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WIP Amnesty: bandom
Wow, these are from 2009. I really have not cleaned out my WIP folder in ages. If it wasn't 3AM, I'd probably be embarrassed.
cowboy!AU
Brendon woke with a start to the sound of low, angry voices. He was still curled up in the wagon, next to the lone crate of Urie’s Original Cure-All Potion that hadn't sold yet. This town was booming with trade from the new railroad, and people were eager to spend money. The voices were still too quiet to hear clearly, but something was wrong. It was early for anyone to have figured out the medicine was useless – they had only arrived last week – but his family had been run out of towns before when someone got smart. He cursed under his breath, and started pulling his clothes on, just in case.
One of the voices pitched up into a shout suddenly – his father. “This is ridiculous! He’s been with us all night!”
“You’re a damn liar, old man. I saw him at the saloon myself.”
Brendon winced. He had snuck out to the saloon after his parents fell asleep. His parents didn’t approve of drinking, wanted him to stay away from the gambling and whores and all the imagined sins available in the Nevada Territory. But Brendon heard they had a real piano player, all the way from Chicago. The last three towns hadn’t even had a piano, much less a good player.
Brendon couldn’t breathe for a moment. The men grabbed him by the arms, and he tried to jerk away. He gasped, “What? No, I didn’t – I just wanted to see the piano player.”
[IIRC, Brendon got framed for a murder and had to run away. Naturally, he ended up in some frontier town with everyone from bandom, because that's how AUs in this fandom worked]
Greta was exhausted. The new stagecoach line was doing brisk business and their town was the only stop for fifty miles, so every cranky, smelly passenger who couldn't stand the trail anymore came to her place for a decent night's sleep. Between serving in the dining room and cleaning up after all the one-night guests, she'd barely had time to play the piano in weeks. She couldn't ask Bob for help - he was spending so much time at the stove that his beard was singed. But the latest batch of stagecoachers had left at noon, and the local gang of bachelors who couldn't cook had vanished --along with the last of the cherry pie, dammit. She never got any these days, it was so unfair. If no one came by in the next few minutes, she might be able to sit down at the piano and --
"Um. Excuse me. Are you Miss Salpeter?"
Greta sighed, and turned towards the voice. A young man - about her age, she thought, maybe a little older - stood awkwardly in the doorway. He look tired, and dust was streaked across his shirt, like he'd tried to brush it off and only managed to make it worse.
"That's me," she said, pulling a smile onto her face. "Can I help you?" He wasn't carrying any luggage, so he probably wasn't looking for a room, but it couldn't hurt to ask.
"Um. I was hoping - I mean, I'm new to town, and I was looking for work, and hotels are always the best place to start. Even if they don't have any jobs, they always smell better than the saloon, anyway." He smiled tentatively at her.
"I wish I could, but I can't afford to pay you. I can't even afford to pay myself these days, and I'm the owner. Luckily, I can give myself a place to sleep. Occasionally, my cook agrees to feed me."
"So. Are you any good at washing dishes?"
This time, the smile lit up his whole face.
Spencer walked back to Ryan and leaned against the pillar behind him. He carefully didn’t look at the cards, because Ryan always complained that his poker face was terrible and he gave away the hand. He wasn’t that bad
Spencer saw the man reaching for his hip as he rose, and jerked his own pistols out and said sharply, “Don’t even think about it.” The man froze, and the saloon got abruptly quieter as the piano player stopped mid-song.
Spencer stepped up next to Ryan, who was covering the third man at the table with the tiny pistol he hid in his sleeve. “My friend won that money fair and square, and he’s gonna leave with it, so let’s all be smart here. Put your guns on the table, and do it slowly. Ryan, get the –“
“Look out!”
"I've had too many older men come through here wanting to "take care of me", like I was some kind of pet. God knows I've been taking care of myself for years, and I'm not about to give up on riding and wearing pants and drinking just to be a good little wife."
Gerard totally draws the best wanted posters in the territory.
Greta foils Brian's financial plans b/c evil mastermind? Then respect AND lust! (and job at Pete's)
Pansy = Frank's horse
gets killed? replaced with (Texas? Bela? check)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_J._Cook
make a joke about David Cook (Am Idol)?
[MARVEL AT MY SOPHISTICATED PLANNING. sigh.]
pirate!AU
Spencer pulled off his wet shirt and stepped over to the wardrobe for something dry. He only remembered himself when Brendon let out a surprised gasp behind him. "Christ, what happened to your back?"
Spencer tensed and didn't answer. He had never seen the whole ugly, knotted mess himself, just glimpses in polished metal and memories of fiery pain spread across his back. Ryan never spoke of it. Cloth rustled behind him - Brendon setting down his bundle, maybe - and there was a tentative "Spencer?"
Spencer took a deep breath and said, "The second time we tried to escape -- we made it to land, just barely, before the crew caught up to us. Captain [?] decided to teach us a lesson, so he had me flogged." He had never been whipped before -- Ryan's father was too drunk most of the time to discipline the crew when Spencer joined up, though he hadn't spared Ryan any, deserved or not -- and the captain had been furious at their escape and vicious in his revenge. He'd blacked out fast, mercifully, and still didn't know how many lashes he'd taken. Ryan hadn't said, and Spencer never asked. "I was sick for a long time, and Ryan decided we shouldn't try again."
He remembered waking up, dizzy with fever and pain, to see Ryan crying silently at his bedside, hunched in on himself like he was the one being beaten. He passed out again before Ryan saw, but the memory was branded into his mind, sharp and fever-bright. Later, Ryan made him swear they wouldn't try again, saying, //We'll find another way, Spencer, we can't -- *You* can't -- Just, not again, okay, please?// Spencer agreed without argument, because he hadn't seen Ryan cry since they were children, and he knew how close he must have come to leaving Ryan forever.
A light touch on his back startled him out his memories. Brendon was tracing along one of the long, white scars, sliding up his spine to his shoulder with whisper-soft pressure. Spencer turned to face him. Brendon's fingers never left his skin, trailing across his shoulder and chest to rest, curled slightly, against his heart. He didn't step away, wide-eyed and face tilted up to his from being too close.
He leaned in and pressed wet kisses along the elegant line of Brendon's neck, the ridge of his collarbone. Brendon inhaled sharply, his hands coming up to clutch at Spencer's shoulders. Spencer bent lower, pushing aside his half-open shirt to kiss his nipple, hot and sucking. He was rewarded with a soft moan, low and uneven, and Brendon's hand slid up into his hair.
plotbunnies
Cinderella rewrite with one of the bandom guys, where he has a child and remarries and dies young, and the stepmother won't let the other guys see the child after his death. And they all try to follow her from a distance as she grows up, and then play fairy goduncles when she's grown and trying to [modern equivalent of going to the ball]. Maybe the prince is one of the other bandom babies?
silent era Brendon as theater pianist/set accompanist; FBR = studio amalgam, with Pete as head, Patrick star director, etc.
Brendon works as a paleontologist (or maybe intern?) at the Field Museum, meets Jon
Jon-joins-the-band fic, where Jon is a slave/indentured servant they get because they want control over their new bassist because they got burned so bad by Brent, and there's ethics and awkwardness. Or maybe Jon was when he was a tech? And they free him when they hire him?
http://disarm-d.livejournal.com/155409.html?thread=6999569&style=mine#t6999569
http://harriet-vane.livejournal.com/494766.html?thread=5211822#t5211822
Summer camp AU, where Spencer and Ryan always go to camp together (for fun and to get away, respectively), and they're going to be counselors this year. But this is the first year Ryan went off to college, and came back with Jon Walker as another counselor, and Spencer is jealous because he talks about him all the time and he's worried that he's losing Ryan as a friend. So he makes friends with the really annoying music/young kids counselor, Brendon, who Ryan hates, as petty revenge. Only Brendon is all messed up because he just got kicked out after he graduated, and he took this job because it payed and he had somewhere to sleep, so he's freakishly good with homesick kids because he just says exactly what he wished someone would tell him. And Spencer slowly realizes that Brendon isn't so annoying, and there's something going on, and possibly he's hotter than first glance. Only he gets into a huge fight with Ryan and says that he only made friends with Brendon to get back at Ryan, and Brendon overhears and there is angst! And eventually everyone makes up and makes out through the MAGIC OF CAMP.
Panic! at the Boxcar (Children)
http://harriet-vane.livejournal.com/494766.html?thread=5211054#t5211054
Pete/Patrick Cold War AU - Pete's totally self-destructive enough to be a spy, and Patrick's his handler. Patrick soothes him by talking about music, and Pete asks him to sing for him.
"Another thing I really really love about them is that Brendon never seems aggressive. He always seems so sweet and gentle and in love. Look at his hand. He's not gripping Ryan's neck, he's holding it, brushing the back of his neck with the tips of his fingers. It wouldn't take much to just take Ryan's hair and start twirling it in his fingers, you know?"
http://thefirstpromise.livejournal.com/132671.html
Something from Ryan's POV, about how Brendon is firm but never demanding, confident but gentle, like he doesn't know how to hurt.
Pete/Patrick version of The Sheik
Decaydance as Chess, c. 1950-55? Pete as Alan Freed type; Patrick, Jon as studio musicians
bandom Ugly Betty AU, with Pete as Daniel and Patrick as Betty. Ryan/Amanda, Spencer/Marc, Gabe/Faye, Brendon = messenger boy with Ryan crush? Justin?, Joe/Christina, William/Hilda
dude, no, Gabe as the minimalist guy! white suits!
cowboy!AU
Brendon woke with a start to the sound of low, angry voices. He was still curled up in the wagon, next to the lone crate of Urie’s Original Cure-All Potion that hadn't sold yet. This town was booming with trade from the new railroad, and people were eager to spend money. The voices were still too quiet to hear clearly, but something was wrong. It was early for anyone to have figured out the medicine was useless – they had only arrived last week – but his family had been run out of towns before when someone got smart. He cursed under his breath, and started pulling his clothes on, just in case.
One of the voices pitched up into a shout suddenly – his father. “This is ridiculous! He’s been with us all night!”
“You’re a damn liar, old man. I saw him at the saloon myself.”
Brendon winced. He had snuck out to the saloon after his parents fell asleep. His parents didn’t approve of drinking, wanted him to stay away from the gambling and whores and all the imagined sins available in the Nevada Territory. But Brendon heard they had a real piano player, all the way from Chicago. The last three towns hadn’t even had a piano, much less a good player.
Brendon couldn’t breathe for a moment. The men grabbed him by the arms, and he tried to jerk away. He gasped, “What? No, I didn’t – I just wanted to see the piano player.”
[IIRC, Brendon got framed for a murder and had to run away. Naturally, he ended up in some frontier town with everyone from bandom, because that's how AUs in this fandom worked]
Greta was exhausted. The new stagecoach line was doing brisk business and their town was the only stop for fifty miles, so every cranky, smelly passenger who couldn't stand the trail anymore came to her place for a decent night's sleep. Between serving in the dining room and cleaning up after all the one-night guests, she'd barely had time to play the piano in weeks. She couldn't ask Bob for help - he was spending so much time at the stove that his beard was singed. But the latest batch of stagecoachers had left at noon, and the local gang of bachelors who couldn't cook had vanished --along with the last of the cherry pie, dammit. She never got any these days, it was so unfair. If no one came by in the next few minutes, she might be able to sit down at the piano and --
"Um. Excuse me. Are you Miss Salpeter?"
Greta sighed, and turned towards the voice. A young man - about her age, she thought, maybe a little older - stood awkwardly in the doorway. He look tired, and dust was streaked across his shirt, like he'd tried to brush it off and only managed to make it worse.
"That's me," she said, pulling a smile onto her face. "Can I help you?" He wasn't carrying any luggage, so he probably wasn't looking for a room, but it couldn't hurt to ask.
"Um. I was hoping - I mean, I'm new to town, and I was looking for work, and hotels are always the best place to start. Even if they don't have any jobs, they always smell better than the saloon, anyway." He smiled tentatively at her.
"I wish I could, but I can't afford to pay you. I can't even afford to pay myself these days, and I'm the owner. Luckily, I can give myself a place to sleep. Occasionally, my cook agrees to feed me."
"So. Are you any good at washing dishes?"
This time, the smile lit up his whole face.
Spencer walked back to Ryan and leaned against the pillar behind him. He carefully didn’t look at the cards, because Ryan always complained that his poker face was terrible and he gave away the hand. He wasn’t that bad
Spencer saw the man reaching for his hip as he rose, and jerked his own pistols out and said sharply, “Don’t even think about it.” The man froze, and the saloon got abruptly quieter as the piano player stopped mid-song.
Spencer stepped up next to Ryan, who was covering the third man at the table with the tiny pistol he hid in his sleeve. “My friend won that money fair and square, and he’s gonna leave with it, so let’s all be smart here. Put your guns on the table, and do it slowly. Ryan, get the –“
“Look out!”
"I've had too many older men come through here wanting to "take care of me", like I was some kind of pet. God knows I've been taking care of myself for years, and I'm not about to give up on riding and wearing pants and drinking just to be a good little wife."
Gerard totally draws the best wanted posters in the territory.
Greta foils Brian's financial plans b/c evil mastermind? Then respect AND lust! (and job at Pete's)
Pansy = Frank's horse
gets killed? replaced with (Texas? Bela? check)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_J._Cook
make a joke about David Cook (Am Idol)?
[MARVEL AT MY SOPHISTICATED PLANNING. sigh.]
pirate!AU
Spencer pulled off his wet shirt and stepped over to the wardrobe for something dry. He only remembered himself when Brendon let out a surprised gasp behind him. "Christ, what happened to your back?"
Spencer tensed and didn't answer. He had never seen the whole ugly, knotted mess himself, just glimpses in polished metal and memories of fiery pain spread across his back. Ryan never spoke of it. Cloth rustled behind him - Brendon setting down his bundle, maybe - and there was a tentative "Spencer?"
Spencer took a deep breath and said, "The second time we tried to escape -- we made it to land, just barely, before the crew caught up to us. Captain [?] decided to teach us a lesson, so he had me flogged." He had never been whipped before -- Ryan's father was too drunk most of the time to discipline the crew when Spencer joined up, though he hadn't spared Ryan any, deserved or not -- and the captain had been furious at their escape and vicious in his revenge. He'd blacked out fast, mercifully, and still didn't know how many lashes he'd taken. Ryan hadn't said, and Spencer never asked. "I was sick for a long time, and Ryan decided we shouldn't try again."
He remembered waking up, dizzy with fever and pain, to see Ryan crying silently at his bedside, hunched in on himself like he was the one being beaten. He passed out again before Ryan saw, but the memory was branded into his mind, sharp and fever-bright. Later, Ryan made him swear they wouldn't try again, saying, //We'll find another way, Spencer, we can't -- *You* can't -- Just, not again, okay, please?// Spencer agreed without argument, because he hadn't seen Ryan cry since they were children, and he knew how close he must have come to leaving Ryan forever.
A light touch on his back startled him out his memories. Brendon was tracing along one of the long, white scars, sliding up his spine to his shoulder with whisper-soft pressure. Spencer turned to face him. Brendon's fingers never left his skin, trailing across his shoulder and chest to rest, curled slightly, against his heart. He didn't step away, wide-eyed and face tilted up to his from being too close.
He leaned in and pressed wet kisses along the elegant line of Brendon's neck, the ridge of his collarbone. Brendon inhaled sharply, his hands coming up to clutch at Spencer's shoulders. Spencer bent lower, pushing aside his half-open shirt to kiss his nipple, hot and sucking. He was rewarded with a soft moan, low and uneven, and Brendon's hand slid up into his hair.
plotbunnies
Cinderella rewrite with one of the bandom guys, where he has a child and remarries and dies young, and the stepmother won't let the other guys see the child after his death. And they all try to follow her from a distance as she grows up, and then play fairy goduncles when she's grown and trying to [modern equivalent of going to the ball]. Maybe the prince is one of the other bandom babies?
silent era Brendon as theater pianist/set accompanist; FBR = studio amalgam, with Pete as head, Patrick star director, etc.
Brendon works as a paleontologist (or maybe intern?) at the Field Museum, meets Jon
Jon-joins-the-band fic, where Jon is a slave/indentured servant they get because they want control over their new bassist because they got burned so bad by Brent, and there's ethics and awkwardness. Or maybe Jon was when he was a tech? And they free him when they hire him?
http://disarm-d.livejournal.com/155409.html?thread=6999569&style=mine#t6999569
http://harriet-vane.livejournal.com/494766.html?thread=5211822#t5211822
Summer camp AU, where Spencer and Ryan always go to camp together (for fun and to get away, respectively), and they're going to be counselors this year. But this is the first year Ryan went off to college, and came back with Jon Walker as another counselor, and Spencer is jealous because he talks about him all the time and he's worried that he's losing Ryan as a friend. So he makes friends with the really annoying music/young kids counselor, Brendon, who Ryan hates, as petty revenge. Only Brendon is all messed up because he just got kicked out after he graduated, and he took this job because it payed and he had somewhere to sleep, so he's freakishly good with homesick kids because he just says exactly what he wished someone would tell him. And Spencer slowly realizes that Brendon isn't so annoying, and there's something going on, and possibly he's hotter than first glance. Only he gets into a huge fight with Ryan and says that he only made friends with Brendon to get back at Ryan, and Brendon overhears and there is angst! And eventually everyone makes up and makes out through the MAGIC OF CAMP.
Panic! at the Boxcar (Children)
http://harriet-vane.livejournal.com/494766.html?thread=5211054#t5211054
Pete/Patrick Cold War AU - Pete's totally self-destructive enough to be a spy, and Patrick's his handler. Patrick soothes him by talking about music, and Pete asks him to sing for him.
"Another thing I really really love about them is that Brendon never seems aggressive. He always seems so sweet and gentle and in love. Look at his hand. He's not gripping Ryan's neck, he's holding it, brushing the back of his neck with the tips of his fingers. It wouldn't take much to just take Ryan's hair and start twirling it in his fingers, you know?"
http://thefirstpromise.livejournal.com/132671.html
Something from Ryan's POV, about how Brendon is firm but never demanding, confident but gentle, like he doesn't know how to hurt.
Pete/Patrick version of The Sheik
Decaydance as Chess, c. 1950-55? Pete as Alan Freed type; Patrick, Jon as studio musicians
bandom Ugly Betty AU, with Pete as Daniel and Patrick as Betty. Ryan/Amanda, Spencer/Marc, Gabe/Faye, Brendon = messenger boy with Ryan crush? Justin?, Joe/Christina, William/Hilda
dude, no, Gabe as the minimalist guy! white suits!