#briem

A Sapphire In The Snow

Chapter 12

The next chapter of my Briemund Fanfic.

Tormund takes Brienne to Tarth to heal from her battle wounds and tries his best to win over her father, Lord Selwyn.

Brandon stood just outside Cassidy hall, next to a trio of Black Dragons under his command. It was about 9:30 at night, and the fifth member of their group had run into the building.

He sent a text, both to Diem and the Dragon who'd just run inside. "Coming over now!"

If all went right, his disciple would knock on the door right after that message was sent.

"Okay, boys!" Brandon called out. "It's go time!"  He snapped his fingers. Once, twice. Three times. "Human pyramid, let's roll!"

And so the Dragons complied, lifting him up to the.... wrong second floor window. Brandon stomped on the head of the person behind him. "Two windows over, genius!"

Once they shifted him over, as he requested, he knocked on Diem's window. She heard the light knocking coming from her window and raised her head, quirking a brow suspiciously. What in the hell? She slowly stood, making her way over to it and there was Brandon's stupid face. She rolled her eyes and opened her window. "What the hell are you doing now, Hurst? Practicing for cheerleading?"

When it came open, Brandon leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Like he always just showed up at her window. Like this was a normal thing that happened in his life. He climbed in through the window and then turned back around to dismiss the younger Dragons. "Alright, you guys just go.... jerk off, or fire off some fireworks, or whatever you're doing the celebrate the holidays! I'm good up here!" 

He shut the window, then turned back to Diem.

"Just felt like visiting. Why? Am I interrupting something?"

Diem shivered melodramatically when he slipped in, as if by opening the window, he was subjecting her to the threat of hypothermia by pulling that little stunt (even though she was happy that he'd done it.) 

"Now, how in the world did you manage to get them to do that?" She gestured towards the Dragons who were now scampering off. "And oh yes, indeed you did. I was just in the middle of a very steamy make out session with James Vega."

Brandon leaned back against the wall and shrugged. 

"I told them you were in the middle of a very steamy makeout session with James Vega and I had to go wake you up before he rounded home plate." He shot her a grin. "So at least we're on the same wave length."

Actually, he'd just said that if they helped him out with this stunt, he wouldn't officially name Vega trialmaster. Which he hadn't planned on doing in the first place, but they didn't need to know that. They'd come to him about it, after all.

"Aww, what a gentleman you are." She lifted a hand to her chest, resting it on top of where she believed her heart to be. "What, were you jealous? Brandon Hurst, jealous of James Vega. Now that is a story."

Brandon tilted his head, confused at the thought that he might have been jealous. "Hey now, I was just looking out for you. Let's keep the J-word out of this."

"...Or are you too proud to admit that you need to see what happens with Seth and Summer?"

He stood up straighter, stepping off the wall. "I'm still pretty sure there's gonna be a Summer-Seth-Anna threesome, and that's how they're gonna solve this whole triangle, but I mean... That's not why I came here. Maybe I just wanted to hang out?"

She chuckled, sitting down on her bed and patting the spot next to her. She was surprised that he hadn't already made himself comfortable, like he always did when he came calling. "Well, get over here so we can find out, will you?"

Brandon took a running start toward the bed and flopped down on it, face first, rolling around in mid-air when he bounced back up and making himself comfortable. Re-arranging her pillows, just setting himself up to watch. "I mean, I guess if you really want to, I can deal with a few more episodes."

"Right, right, it's all me, my mistake."

Diem burrowed down, letting her head find the crook of his armpit before offering him the blanket she still had draped around herself. Brandon wrapped his arm around her, almost habitually, his fingers trailing gently through her hair. He accepted the offer of blanket space, pulling it over himself as well. He glanced down at Diem, then wrapped his other arm around her as well. She let herself melt into him a touch, certainly thankful for the extra heat. He couldn't quite keep the lazy grin off his face.

"You start snoring halfway through again and I will dye your hair fucking pink, I hope you know that."

"You dye my hair pink, I'm gonna turn everything in this room pink and then move Vega in under your bed." 

And that was if he was feeling especially merciful that day. Brandon's thumb traced absentmindedly over her cheek, and he leaned down and kissed her temple.  

"Have I ever told you before that your idea of revenge tends to go way fucking overboard?" Diem asked. For the time being, the question fell on deaf ears. Brandon was planning.

"...And then I'll convince your mom that she and I should have an Alaska wedding. Swimsuit-themed and everything."

Diem rolled her eyes, shifting in his arms as if she was going to pull away from him when both of them knew full well that there was no way in hell she would actually do that. Not that she minded most of the time; it was funny to see his retribution and it never was her who had to deal with it. 

"Brandon, I've already told you, you will never be the boy I call daddy."

"That's what you think. But Ramsey and I are banking on you eventually coming around to the idea. Preferably in time for graduation, because we're setting grad as the date. You know, throw the bouquet in the air with our caps?"

"What is it with guys and overestimating things?" She smirked, reaching her hand to to pat his cheek like a mother would do for a child that lost the race but had really tried their hardest. "I don't get this whole cougar fixation you have but I'd really rather you try to fuck someone else's mother. I came out of that vagina, I don't need my best friend trying to find his way back into it."

"Hey, don't do the crime if you can't do the time." He was relatively certain that if anyone else patted his cheek like Diem did, he'd have kicked their ass. "And In my defense, the apple didn't fall far from the tree, looks-wise."

Brandon bit down on his cheek, and stifled a laugh. He knew that one would bug her. He knew how much she hated being compared to her mother, though he never recalled her telling him the exact reason as to why.

"You take that back right now, Hurst."

"...Fine, you're right. The apple fell out of the tree, landed in a cannon, and got shot into a whole other country from the tree."

"There we go. Now, shut up and watch, I'm not explaining anything to you." 

Diem tried pat his cheek again, but Brandon ducked away from her hand. Finally, their collective attentions were turned back to the television instead of each other. 

"...This Zach guy is rubbing me the wrong way," Brandon observed. "His face looks kind of like a foot."

"See, that's what I thought too! I don't know, I think his face is so weirdly proportioned."

"They should have brought back Luke," Brandon crossed one leg over the other, tracing circles against her bicep with his fingers. "Luke was the man, Zach's just boring."

"Sometimes," Diem said. "I worry about how invested in this you are."

"I'm just saying!"

Brandon pulled a pillow out from behind his back and half-heartedly pretended to muffle her with it.

"Hey, stop!" Her voice was somewhat muffled. "This isn't the kind of pillow biting I'm into!"

"Too bad!" Brandon gave her one last whack with the pillow, then rested it on his lap. "Talk shit, get hit. Them's the rules."

"Not in my room!"

She grabbed the blanket that now lay bundled up beside her and pounced him, using the blanket as a net to wrap him up. She was on top of him now. Brandon tried to wriggle free, rolling away from her, not-so-seriously trying to reverse her attempts to wrap him up and get her instead. Eventually he tackled her, trying to cocoon her in both their blankets, but she resisted that effort. Eventually, Brandon just gave up and flopped down on top of her.

"You ready to tap?" He mumbled this into her pillow.

Diem laughed, and let her body go completely limp. The boy had way too much on her to do much resisting. "Aww Brandon, you want to tap me? I knew even you couldn't resist my charm."

"I've only been trying to for the last four years, obviously."

"Oh, is that right? And then I friendzoned you."

"And that friendzoned rage propelled me to become the Infernal Grand Master of the Black Dragons." 

"Don't worry, you're not the only dragon I reject on a daily basis."

Truthfully, there were only a handful of others who she didn't fuck with, mainly because Diem didn't particularly think fearing for her life during sex would be sexy. Brandon turned his face away from the pillow, so he could look at her. 

"That's very comforting, actually."

"Well then, the school has me to thank for you becoming the manliest man to ever man. Now, can you get off of me? I think you went up like fifteen weight classes since the last time we hung out."

Brandon grunted, and moved an arm over her face.

"I've lost weight, fuck you very much." He rolled off of her, eyes trained back up at the ceiling, and he stretched. "I'm at 185, and I've gotta stay there until the twenty-second." He sighed wistfully. "After that, I can eat whatever I want."

Except not really, because when he went home for winter break, he had a kickboxing match in Oregon, and he had to be at 186 or lower for that. But then after new years? He was home free! For Diem, it was nice to see Brandon get all passionate with his kickboxing, even if she did heckle him to no end when she actually would attend some of his matches. It got so bad that once, she was even escorted out of the gym for unsportsmanlike conduct.

"Well I wish you luck as usual, Hurst."

Brandon looked over at her, then leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. He put his arm back around her, cuddled her into him, and almost thanked her. But didn't. She rubbed his back. Almost affectionately.  

"You don't need luck when you're this good." His smile softened a little bit when he looked back at her. "Unless you mean luck at that buffet I'm gonna be raiding once I don't have to watch my weight anymore."

Well, that wasn't entirely true: He had Golden Gloves halfway through January, so he had to pack on about ten pounds by then, but that would be much easier. Adjusting to the rapid fluctuation of his weight during that time would be the hard part. He was half-expecting some kind of joke about his figure, some kind of dress-fitting, a jab at his masculinity. Instead, she just burrowed her face into the crook of his neck and kissed him there.  

"The buffet of course. And I'm sending most of that luck to whoever has to follow after you. The only thing that'll be left is the salad bar."

Brandon rolled toward her, so he could cuddle in closer.

"Well, I have to leave the salad. There's got to be something left for my food to eat, right?"

"What, you going to kill your own burger? How primal of you." Her eyes fluttered closed and she let herself press a little closer. "Remind me to invite you over more often. you're even better than an electric blanket."

"That's gonna be a Black Dragon policy." Brandon nodded in agreement. "If you didn't kill it, you don't get to eat it. Modern society is making our members too soft, I always say." 

"I can think of at least one dragon who would certainly not mind that idea."

The night was already shaping up to be another one of their impromptu sleepovers, the ones that happened so often during the week that teachers barely even tried to stop anymore.  He rested his chin against the top of her head, one hand rubbing idly up and down her back.

"I guess you're not completely uncomfortable yourself, by the way."

"Wow, just what I aspire to be. By the way, you're staying the night, Brandon. I'd rather not freeze to death tonight."

"Good." He nodded in agreement. "Wasn't exactly planning on getting up, anyway." 

He shifted them over a little bit, pulling her over onto his chest, trying to find a position that was comfortable for her while still allowing him to see the television. It was raining in Southern California, and he wanted to see what went down.

"Knew you were invested in this shit."

"Shut up."

Sleepy as Diem's smile was, there was still a distinctly shit-eating element to it.

"I'm just making sure I know where the remote is, that's all," Brandon argued. "The TV won't turn itself over to Sportscenter, now will it?"

"Mmhm," She mumbled against his chest.

"Mhm yourself."

Brandon rolled his eyes, turning up the volume a little bit on the TV. Seth was trying to fix his cable, wearing a spider-man mask. This was good shit. He was half wondering if they were about to kill off Seth Cohen. He snuck another little glance at Diem, absentmindedly brushing his fingers through her hair, every flickering between her and the TV. Eventually, the TV won out. But he was still very aware of her breathing in and out, her weight against his chest. 

Imagefoto für das Wein Cabinet Briem © Till Erdmenger – Businessfotos

Imagefoto für das Wein Cabinet Briem © Till Erdmenger – Businessfotos

Imagefoto für das Wein Cabinet Briem © Till Erdmenger – Businessfotos

Imagefoto für das Wein Cabinet Briem © Till Erdmenger – Businessfotos

Imagefoto für das Wein Cabinet Briem © Till Erdmenger – Businessfotos

Imagefoto für das Wein Cabinet Briem © Till Erdmenger – Businessfotos

Imagefoto für das Wein Cabinet Briem © Till Erdmenger – Businessfotos