Far From Last

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Far From Last
by templemarker

Notes: For natacup82 in [info]popoffacork 2009. With great thanks to for her exemplary beta skills, and to for running the challenge tirelessly, year after year. Brendon/Shane, PG13, circa late 2008/early 2009. Oh, how I miss the days.

Originally posted here.

***

Kissing Shane was like–like a breaking dawn, or something else lyrical and grand and everyday.

It wasn’t the first time, and if Brendon had his way it would be far from last; but this time, standing on the edge of a lookout point in the Cascades, half a tour under his belt and miles more to go–this time, their kisses felt big.

Shane kissed him back, of course, matching Brendon gasp for gasp, moan for moan, but it was never a competition. Brendon had kissed, well, too many people probably. He’d been as foolish with his young freedom as only famous teenagers could really be, and he’d made mistakes he regretted now. But this, this thing with Shane, had changed everything.

It wasn’t even huge or whatever. Or, not huge in a Ryan Ross kind of way: flowery and Victorian and the kind of love you scribble down into leather journals bound in ribbon and hidden in mattresses. It was just easy, easy like Brendan always thought happiness could be, even when he’d never had it for himself. It was a weirdly normal domesticity, like buying a house and taking care of dogs and paying the phone bill were things to cherish, special things, instead of boring responsibilities meant to be ignored. Brendon liked going home, knowing that he’d see Shane’s photographs scattered on the dining room table, that there’d be mismatched sneakers by the door.

He knew he was young, younger than Shane, young enough to have a first love and lose it still. It didn’t feel like that though, like something that could be lost. It felt real, and forever, and right now Brendon tightened his arms around Shane like he’d never need to let go.

The buses had stopped in the mountain pass for one of the vehicles in the convoy, something about brakes or tires or another car-related thing Brendon didn’t pay much attention to. He’d seen the sign for the lookout point about half a mile back, and after checking to see that they’d be stuck there for awhile longer, he cleared it with Spencer and Zack, grabbed Shane’s hand, and started walking.

"I wish I’d brought my camera," Shane said wistfully, looking out at the half-dark sky. They could see for miles, pointy green hills everywhere they looked. Shane pushed his hands into the pockets of Brendon’s hoodie, hooking his fingers in with Brendon’s.

"You’ll just have to remember it," Brendon said, knocking his head back onto Shane’s shoulder, shivering a little in the cooling night air. "You don’t need a picture for a memory."

Brendon felt Shane smile against his skin. "Yeah, but pictures are like memories you can share with people who weren’t there."

Brendon snorted. "I thought pictures were art," he teased. "Maybe you should give up this whole artist thing, put ‘scrapbooker’ on your cards instead."

Shane poked Brendon’s side through the hoodie, and Brendon yelped and squirmed in Shane’s arms as Shane laughed.

"Shane Valdez, Professional Scrapbooker," Shane whispered into Brendon’s ear, and Brendon smiled.

"It’s pretty here," he said. Shane nodded.

"Kiss me again," said Brendon, and turned to meet Shane’s mouth.

There were insects buzzing in the trees, and the noise got louder when Brendon focused only on Shane, on drawing those sounds out of him that Brendon craved. Brendon bit Shane’s lip and ground against the groove of Shane’s hip, feeling Shane’s fingers tighten on his waist.

"I think you should reconsider your stance on public sex," Brendon suggested, pulling away briefly to tug Shane’s sweater up so Brendon could feel hot skin against his palm.

Shane laughed. "There’s no public around," he said. "Technically, I think you need an audience for it to be public sex."

"Nah, I’m pretty sure it just means any place other people might be," Brendon countered, frowning down at Shane’s stupid Idaho belt buckle, trying to figure out how to undo it from the wrong side.

"Semantic point," Shane said. "Though it does make the difference as to whether I’m going to let you touch my dick in the forest or not."

"It’s not really a forest," Brendon said, happily tugging Shane’s belt away from his zipper, and starting to work on that too. "And I’m pretty sure you’d let me touch your dick even if it were."

"It’s totally a forest," Shane protested, thumbing Brendon’s nipples through his shirt. "See all the trees?"

"Too dark to see," Brendon mumbled, tilting his head up for a kiss again. Brendan pushed against Shane, just about to push his fingers into Shane’s underwear, when Brendon started vibrating.

They jumped apart, surprised, and started laughing. "Fuck," Brendon said with a grin, digging his phone out of his pants.

"Seriously, I was just about to get laid, Zach," Brendon complained. Shane rolled his eyes and started doing up his zipper while Brendon looked on mournfully.

"Yes," Brendon said, "of course I get laid all the time, but you interrupted me getting laid this time. Fine. Fine! It’ll take us fifteen minutes to walk back. No, I will not get eaten by a chupacabra. Yes, I will let Shane be in charge. No, you can go fuck yourself." He clicked off the line.

"Hey, at least we got half an hour by ourselves to make out," Shane pointed out.

"Your optimism is a constant annoyance," Brendon said, sticking his tongue out when Shane laughed at him.

"C’mon, loverboy," Shane said, pulling him close and tucking a hand into Brendon’s back pocket. "Let’s walk slow and pretend it’s a fifties movie."

"Oooh, can I give you an Elvis coif when we get back?" Brendon asked, threading his arm around Shane’s back. "Wait, don’t say no, just contemplate and then I’ll see if I can find my mousse when we get back."

"Tell you what, you do Spencer’s hair, and I’ll point and laugh, and break out the Polaroid so we can mortify him later," Shane said.

"Why Mr. Valdez, I do so love your evil streak," Brendon said, pulling him down for another kiss as they walked back.

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