Tour, Chapter 12
Dec. 1st, 2015 08:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i_am_tl_drTitle: BIG GAY POP PUNK INTERNATIONAL TOUR: chapter 12
Characters: Quentin Kinley, Tyler Jordan Graham, Preston Brooks, Max Parker, Olivia Maheu
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1895
Notes: I need to come back and finish this one later, but it's driving me crazy, so I'm posting it before it's actually totally done. Deal with it.
Day 8: 9/19/15
St John
The next day was another long ride in the van, almost seven hours. Olivia did most of the driving, firmly ignoring everything happening behind them, but there wasn’t that much to ignore. Everyone mostly did their own thing before they stopped for lunch: Quentin was listening to podcasts with his head in Tyler Jordan’s lap, Tyler Jordan was playing on his phone and occasionally petting Quentin’s hair, and Max had been given a coloring book for adults and a set of colored pencils to keep him busy in the back seat, which he had initially protested, but quickly found himself totally engrossed by it. That lasted until just after noon when they stopped for lunch just before the border to Canada, when Quentin had to take off his headphones and Max had to pack up his pencils.
“What were you working on?” Tyler Jordan asked, and Max shrugged and sipped his soda.
“Some mandala thing? It’s really relaxing. You should try it. I thought it would be kind of lame but it’s actually super fun.”
“It’s as good as meditation,” Olivia said. “Why do you think I gave it to you? I don’t think you’re a kid. It’s actually a really popular relaxation technique among adults.”
“Cool,” Tyler Jordan said. “Let me see when you’re done.”
“Oh, I’m totally going to show it off.”
“I want to try when you’re done,” Preston said. “I love coloring.”
“Least surprising statement of the day award goes to…” Quentin did a drumroll on the table with his fingers. “Preston Brooks! Congratulations, Preston, you are a completely predictable stoner.”
“Bite me,” Preston said, throwing a french fry at Quentin. Quentin threw one back at him, and Olivia sighed heavily.
“I’m surrounded by children.”
“I didn’t even do anything this time,” Tyler Jordan said.
“You don’t have any fries left,” Olivia pointed out. “Or you would have thrown one too.”
“Yeah, okay, that’s true.”
“I’m not a child,” Max said.
“You got a kids meal,” Quentin said. “Literally you got the meal for the toy.”
“It’s Hello Kitty! No shit I got the meal with the toy!” He held up the toy. “Look, she has glasses! That’s so fucking cute.”
“Okay, it is pretty cute,” Quentin conceded. Max looked surprised, then smiled a little. “You know you can get the toy without the happy meal, though.”
“Don’t dull my sparkle, Quentin,” Max said. “Go big or go home.”
“....so you’re going home?”
“Nobody’s going home,” Tyler Jordan said. “Not for another week. Are you going to finish your fries? Or are you using them as ammunition?”
“Go ahead,” Quentin said, and Tyler Jordan stole a few. “How much farther to St John?”
“Five hours,” Olivia said. “Preston gets to drive the next leg.”
“Gosh, Liv, you’re letting me in the driver’s seat for a border crossing? I feel so special,” Preston said.
“Fuck it up and I’ll mail you back to Detroit in a box,” Olivia said, and Preston laughed.
“If I die, you have to cremate me and get high on the fumes from all the residual THC in my body.”
“Ugh, I’m not breathing your secondhand smoke.”
“I think that would be thirdhand smoke at that point,” Quentin said. “Secondhand is what he exhales.”
“I’m not breathing any of his smoke,” Olivia said. “You guys can smoke him after I murder him.”
“No,” Preston said. “You use what you kill. Or you don’t kill it at all.”
“Fine, I won’t kill you. I’ll just maim you grievously.”
“You can break his legs, but leave his arms alone,” Tyler Jordan said. “We can wheel him up to the drum set if we have to.”
“I can’t use the kick drum with broken legs,” Preston said, marvelously unconcerned at the topic of discussion. “You’re just going to have to settle for beating me up.”
“How about you don’t get us stopped at the border and we won’t need to figure out the best way to damage you,” Olivia said. “I think that’s the best option for everyone.”
“Aye aye, cap’n,” Preston said with a sloppy salute. “Flying under the radar. Everything shipshape and Bristol fashion.”
“You mix those metaphors, Pres,” Quentin said. “Don’t let anyone dull your sparkle.”
“I don’t sparkle, dude. I burn bright.”
“He’s not queer enough to sparkle,” Tyler Jordan said. “That’s on the rest of us.”
“Yeah, well, the rest of us are pretty fucking queer,” Olivia said. “Dibs on the silver sparkles. I’m classy like that.”
“I don’t sparkle,” Quentin said, and Tyler Jordan snorted. “I don’t!”
“Quentin, honey, you glimmer with incandescent rage. You’re like Katniss before the Hunger Games. You walk around wearing fire.”
“Peeta wore fire too,” Quentin pointed out, one brow arched, and Tyler Jordan shook his head.
“Peeta wore it, but Katniss owned it.”
“I’ll let it slide this time.”
“I want all the sparkles,” Max said. “I am a sparkle.”
“You’re a fruit loop,” Quentin said, and Max laughed.
“No way. I’m a bowl of Trix. And not the boring round Trix either. I’m the fruit-shaped Trix.”
“You know why they look round now?” Preston asked. Everyone looked at him. “Because Trix are for kids and we’re not kids any more.”
“Fuck,” Max said.
“Aren’t you so insistent that you aren’t a kid?” Tyler Jordan asked.
“It’s the principle of the thing,” Max said. Quentin shook his head and threw his last fry at Max.
“Okay, boys, settle down,” Olivia said. “Can we get back on the road?”
“Olivia is Raisin Bran,” Max said, and Olivia rolled their eyes.
“Yes. I’m so adult and boring. But still fruity. And you’ll appreciate me more when you grow the fuck up.”
“We appreciate you, Liv,” Tyler Jordan said. “It’s just hard to tell sometimes.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Olivia said. “You’re the only one who’s paid proper tribute to me lately. The rest of you should learn something from Tyler Jordan and give me cupcakes.”
“We’re just looking out for your boyishly slim figure,” Preston said, snagging Olivia’s trash and his own and pitching it as they walked out of the rest stop.
“The rest of you can be boyishly slim. I want the cupcakes.”
“Hey, I’m not boyishly slim, I’m buff as hell,” Tyler Jordan said.
“Yeah you are,” Quentin said, looping an arm around his waist before they got to the van. “The rest of us are just skinny.”
“Featherweight,” Max reminded them. “You’re probably a featherweight too.”
“You guys are only featherweights in boxing,” Preston said. “You’re like flyweights in UFC fighting.”
“I like the term featherweight though,” Max said. “Cause I like feathers.”
“That’s because you’re super gay,” Preston said.
“I am not,” Max said, offended. “I’m super bisexual. Don’t erase my identity.”
“Whatever, sorry, you’re half super gay.”
“You need education,” Max sighed. “Desperately. Olivia, do you think he can learn?”
“I don’t know, honestly. He learns if you hit him often enough, but you’re too nonviolent,” Olivia said. “Preston…” They dangled the keys in front of Preston. “Do not get us stopped at the border. Don’t do it. Don’t say anything stupid, don’t do anything suspicious, don’t get us stopped at the border.”
“I won’t,” Preston said, and Olivia dropped the keys into his hand. “I’m too scared of what you’ll do to me.”
“Good,” Olivia said, and they punched him on the shoulder playfully. “Come on, guys. The faster we get to St. John, the faster I can ditch you losers and meet up with Jeanne.”
“Wait, are we only stopping in St. John because you want to hang out with someone?” Quentin asked. “There’s no show tonight, right?”
“We’re stopping in St. John because it’s on the way to Halifax,” Olivia said, “....and maybe so I can get laid, yes.”
“All in favor of Liv getting some and chilling the fuck out, say aye,” Preston said. Everyone immediately said “aye.” “Okay then! Allons-y, dudes.”
Max pulled the colored pencils out again as soon as he buckled in, and Tyler Jordan turned to watch him for a minute. “That looks pretty nice so far,” he said, and Max beamed.
“I like artsy stuff.” Quentin turned to look too, and he arched his eyebrows.
“It doesn’t suck,” he said, and Max snorted.
“You know, if I translate that out of Quentin-speak, I think it’s a compliment,” he said. Quentin rolled his eyes and turned back around, and Max shook his head slightly and got back to coloring. Quentin didn’t put his headphones back on, but he did pull his notebook out of his messenger bag and start scribbling something, turning the notebook away when Tyler Jordan peered over.
“Don’t be nosy,” he said. Tyler Jordan laughed.
“That’s the least likely thing you’ve ever said to me, lemon drop.”
“Yeah, I realized as the words were leaving my mouth what a dumb thing it was to say,” Quentin said. “Still. Don’t.”
“Let me borrow your DS, then.” Quentin handed it over and Tyler Jordan kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks.” Everyone settled into their individual entertainments. Up in the passenger seat Olivia was giggling every now and then as they texted furiously. Preston tapped his fingers against the wheel to his music, and everything was peaceful for the twenty minutes it took them to hit the border.
“Remember,” OIivia said as they came in view of the crossing. “Grievous harm.”
“I’m not going to fuck it up,” Preston sighed, “I have more to lose than anyone else in this van, you know.”
“Everyone look normal,” Tyler Jordan chirped. When they actually made it to the border crossing agent, she only gave the most cursory glance at their passports before waving them through.
“Well, she was clearly waiting for her lunch break,” Quentin said as they drove through. “Good thing we aren’t devilishly attractive pop punk terrorists.”
“What the fuck would a pop punk terrorist even do?” Max asked. “I can’t imagine it.”
“Glitter bombs?” Tyler Jordan asked. “Releasing the gayest sex tape ever ‘accidentally’ leaked?”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Quentin told him seriously. Tyler Jordan just grinned at him. “I mean it. Don’t even start with me.”
“Come on, one little flick.”
“I’ll never touch your dick again.”
“Oh, ouch. You don’t fight fair.”
“I never have,” Quentin said, absolutely shamelessly. “Fighting fair is a luxury you don’t get when you’re the youngest and the smallest and the least liked. I learned real fucking early that fighting fair meant I’d always lose.” He leaned against Tyler Jordan and added, “I’m banking on you liking sex with me enough to want to keep doing it, minus the camera.”
“Like I’ve ever been able to keep my hands off you,” Tyler Jordan said. “Ever. Since before we even started sleeping together.”
“Nope. You’ve always been touchy.”
“And you’ve always encouraged me.”
“You guys are gross,” Olivia said. “You seriously don’t know the meaning of the word restraint.”
“I know what restraints are,” Quentin said. “Tyler Jordan doesn’t like them, but I don’t mind them.”
“Ew,” Olivia said, “I did not need to know that.”
“I think it’s a fun fact,” Max chimed in from the backseat.
“Please stop,” Preston said. “For my sake. It’s too gay in here. I’m starting to see rainbow spots at the edge of my vision.”
Characters: Quentin Kinley, Tyler Jordan Graham, Preston Brooks, Max Parker, Olivia Maheu
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1895
Notes: I need to come back and finish this one later, but it's driving me crazy, so I'm posting it before it's actually totally done. Deal with it.
Day 8: 9/19/15
St John
The next day was another long ride in the van, almost seven hours. Olivia did most of the driving, firmly ignoring everything happening behind them, but there wasn’t that much to ignore. Everyone mostly did their own thing before they stopped for lunch: Quentin was listening to podcasts with his head in Tyler Jordan’s lap, Tyler Jordan was playing on his phone and occasionally petting Quentin’s hair, and Max had been given a coloring book for adults and a set of colored pencils to keep him busy in the back seat, which he had initially protested, but quickly found himself totally engrossed by it. That lasted until just after noon when they stopped for lunch just before the border to Canada, when Quentin had to take off his headphones and Max had to pack up his pencils.
“What were you working on?” Tyler Jordan asked, and Max shrugged and sipped his soda.
“Some mandala thing? It’s really relaxing. You should try it. I thought it would be kind of lame but it’s actually super fun.”
“It’s as good as meditation,” Olivia said. “Why do you think I gave it to you? I don’t think you’re a kid. It’s actually a really popular relaxation technique among adults.”
“Cool,” Tyler Jordan said. “Let me see when you’re done.”
“Oh, I’m totally going to show it off.”
“I want to try when you’re done,” Preston said. “I love coloring.”
“Least surprising statement of the day award goes to…” Quentin did a drumroll on the table with his fingers. “Preston Brooks! Congratulations, Preston, you are a completely predictable stoner.”
“Bite me,” Preston said, throwing a french fry at Quentin. Quentin threw one back at him, and Olivia sighed heavily.
“I’m surrounded by children.”
“I didn’t even do anything this time,” Tyler Jordan said.
“You don’t have any fries left,” Olivia pointed out. “Or you would have thrown one too.”
“Yeah, okay, that’s true.”
“I’m not a child,” Max said.
“You got a kids meal,” Quentin said. “Literally you got the meal for the toy.”
“It’s Hello Kitty! No shit I got the meal with the toy!” He held up the toy. “Look, she has glasses! That’s so fucking cute.”
“Okay, it is pretty cute,” Quentin conceded. Max looked surprised, then smiled a little. “You know you can get the toy without the happy meal, though.”
“Don’t dull my sparkle, Quentin,” Max said. “Go big or go home.”
“....so you’re going home?”
“Nobody’s going home,” Tyler Jordan said. “Not for another week. Are you going to finish your fries? Or are you using them as ammunition?”
“Go ahead,” Quentin said, and Tyler Jordan stole a few. “How much farther to St John?”
“Five hours,” Olivia said. “Preston gets to drive the next leg.”
“Gosh, Liv, you’re letting me in the driver’s seat for a border crossing? I feel so special,” Preston said.
“Fuck it up and I’ll mail you back to Detroit in a box,” Olivia said, and Preston laughed.
“If I die, you have to cremate me and get high on the fumes from all the residual THC in my body.”
“Ugh, I’m not breathing your secondhand smoke.”
“I think that would be thirdhand smoke at that point,” Quentin said. “Secondhand is what he exhales.”
“I’m not breathing any of his smoke,” Olivia said. “You guys can smoke him after I murder him.”
“No,” Preston said. “You use what you kill. Or you don’t kill it at all.”
“Fine, I won’t kill you. I’ll just maim you grievously.”
“You can break his legs, but leave his arms alone,” Tyler Jordan said. “We can wheel him up to the drum set if we have to.”
“I can’t use the kick drum with broken legs,” Preston said, marvelously unconcerned at the topic of discussion. “You’re just going to have to settle for beating me up.”
“How about you don’t get us stopped at the border and we won’t need to figure out the best way to damage you,” Olivia said. “I think that’s the best option for everyone.”
“Aye aye, cap’n,” Preston said with a sloppy salute. “Flying under the radar. Everything shipshape and Bristol fashion.”
“You mix those metaphors, Pres,” Quentin said. “Don’t let anyone dull your sparkle.”
“I don’t sparkle, dude. I burn bright.”
“He’s not queer enough to sparkle,” Tyler Jordan said. “That’s on the rest of us.”
“Yeah, well, the rest of us are pretty fucking queer,” Olivia said. “Dibs on the silver sparkles. I’m classy like that.”
“I don’t sparkle,” Quentin said, and Tyler Jordan snorted. “I don’t!”
“Quentin, honey, you glimmer with incandescent rage. You’re like Katniss before the Hunger Games. You walk around wearing fire.”
“Peeta wore fire too,” Quentin pointed out, one brow arched, and Tyler Jordan shook his head.
“Peeta wore it, but Katniss owned it.”
“I’ll let it slide this time.”
“I want all the sparkles,” Max said. “I am a sparkle.”
“You’re a fruit loop,” Quentin said, and Max laughed.
“No way. I’m a bowl of Trix. And not the boring round Trix either. I’m the fruit-shaped Trix.”
“You know why they look round now?” Preston asked. Everyone looked at him. “Because Trix are for kids and we’re not kids any more.”
“Fuck,” Max said.
“Aren’t you so insistent that you aren’t a kid?” Tyler Jordan asked.
“It’s the principle of the thing,” Max said. Quentin shook his head and threw his last fry at Max.
“Okay, boys, settle down,” Olivia said. “Can we get back on the road?”
“Olivia is Raisin Bran,” Max said, and Olivia rolled their eyes.
“Yes. I’m so adult and boring. But still fruity. And you’ll appreciate me more when you grow the fuck up.”
“We appreciate you, Liv,” Tyler Jordan said. “It’s just hard to tell sometimes.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Olivia said. “You’re the only one who’s paid proper tribute to me lately. The rest of you should learn something from Tyler Jordan and give me cupcakes.”
“We’re just looking out for your boyishly slim figure,” Preston said, snagging Olivia’s trash and his own and pitching it as they walked out of the rest stop.
“The rest of you can be boyishly slim. I want the cupcakes.”
“Hey, I’m not boyishly slim, I’m buff as hell,” Tyler Jordan said.
“Yeah you are,” Quentin said, looping an arm around his waist before they got to the van. “The rest of us are just skinny.”
“Featherweight,” Max reminded them. “You’re probably a featherweight too.”
“You guys are only featherweights in boxing,” Preston said. “You’re like flyweights in UFC fighting.”
“I like the term featherweight though,” Max said. “Cause I like feathers.”
“That’s because you’re super gay,” Preston said.
“I am not,” Max said, offended. “I’m super bisexual. Don’t erase my identity.”
“Whatever, sorry, you’re half super gay.”
“You need education,” Max sighed. “Desperately. Olivia, do you think he can learn?”
“I don’t know, honestly. He learns if you hit him often enough, but you’re too nonviolent,” Olivia said. “Preston…” They dangled the keys in front of Preston. “Do not get us stopped at the border. Don’t do it. Don’t say anything stupid, don’t do anything suspicious, don’t get us stopped at the border.”
“I won’t,” Preston said, and Olivia dropped the keys into his hand. “I’m too scared of what you’ll do to me.”
“Good,” Olivia said, and they punched him on the shoulder playfully. “Come on, guys. The faster we get to St. John, the faster I can ditch you losers and meet up with Jeanne.”
“Wait, are we only stopping in St. John because you want to hang out with someone?” Quentin asked. “There’s no show tonight, right?”
“We’re stopping in St. John because it’s on the way to Halifax,” Olivia said, “....and maybe so I can get laid, yes.”
“All in favor of Liv getting some and chilling the fuck out, say aye,” Preston said. Everyone immediately said “aye.” “Okay then! Allons-y, dudes.”
Max pulled the colored pencils out again as soon as he buckled in, and Tyler Jordan turned to watch him for a minute. “That looks pretty nice so far,” he said, and Max beamed.
“I like artsy stuff.” Quentin turned to look too, and he arched his eyebrows.
“It doesn’t suck,” he said, and Max snorted.
“You know, if I translate that out of Quentin-speak, I think it’s a compliment,” he said. Quentin rolled his eyes and turned back around, and Max shook his head slightly and got back to coloring. Quentin didn’t put his headphones back on, but he did pull his notebook out of his messenger bag and start scribbling something, turning the notebook away when Tyler Jordan peered over.
“Don’t be nosy,” he said. Tyler Jordan laughed.
“That’s the least likely thing you’ve ever said to me, lemon drop.”
“Yeah, I realized as the words were leaving my mouth what a dumb thing it was to say,” Quentin said. “Still. Don’t.”
“Let me borrow your DS, then.” Quentin handed it over and Tyler Jordan kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks.” Everyone settled into their individual entertainments. Up in the passenger seat Olivia was giggling every now and then as they texted furiously. Preston tapped his fingers against the wheel to his music, and everything was peaceful for the twenty minutes it took them to hit the border.
“Remember,” OIivia said as they came in view of the crossing. “Grievous harm.”
“I’m not going to fuck it up,” Preston sighed, “I have more to lose than anyone else in this van, you know.”
“Everyone look normal,” Tyler Jordan chirped. When they actually made it to the border crossing agent, she only gave the most cursory glance at their passports before waving them through.
“Well, she was clearly waiting for her lunch break,” Quentin said as they drove through. “Good thing we aren’t devilishly attractive pop punk terrorists.”
“What the fuck would a pop punk terrorist even do?” Max asked. “I can’t imagine it.”
“Glitter bombs?” Tyler Jordan asked. “Releasing the gayest sex tape ever ‘accidentally’ leaked?”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Quentin told him seriously. Tyler Jordan just grinned at him. “I mean it. Don’t even start with me.”
“Come on, one little flick.”
“I’ll never touch your dick again.”
“Oh, ouch. You don’t fight fair.”
“I never have,” Quentin said, absolutely shamelessly. “Fighting fair is a luxury you don’t get when you’re the youngest and the smallest and the least liked. I learned real fucking early that fighting fair meant I’d always lose.” He leaned against Tyler Jordan and added, “I’m banking on you liking sex with me enough to want to keep doing it, minus the camera.”
“Like I’ve ever been able to keep my hands off you,” Tyler Jordan said. “Ever. Since before we even started sleeping together.”
“Nope. You’ve always been touchy.”
“And you’ve always encouraged me.”
“You guys are gross,” Olivia said. “You seriously don’t know the meaning of the word restraint.”
“I know what restraints are,” Quentin said. “Tyler Jordan doesn’t like them, but I don’t mind them.”
“Ew,” Olivia said, “I did not need to know that.”
“I think it’s a fun fact,” Max chimed in from the backseat.
“Please stop,” Preston said. “For my sake. It’s too gay in here. I’m starting to see rainbow spots at the edge of my vision.”
