#i larb queue

You scoffed almost as soon as you entered the classroom. There were students scattered around the room, and beside your usual seat, sat you rival. Brendon fucking Urie. Why is he so close to your seat? Why is he staring straight at you?

You hadn't the slightest idea.

You walked over, taking long strides with your head down. Hopefully he wouldn't talk to you if you didn't acknowledge his space in the universe. But then again, he would probably talk to you from three universes away, and laugh about how you believed in the multiverse. You sat down in your chair quickly, praying soundlessly that your professor would hurry and start the lecture.

No such luck.

"I heard from a little birdie that you don't party," Brendon said, "and I'm curious as to why." He wasn't wrong, you never went to parties. Something about the underage drinking, sexual dancing, and smoking made it a complete turn off. You'd rather be at home, studying, watching Game Of Thrones, possibly eating pizza. It was a much better use of the rare spare time you had.

"Why do you want to know?" You challenged. What about you not partying was so interesting to your rival? If he asked around a bit more, he'd find out the reason, so why ask you? He knew you hated him.

"You seem so popular with all the dudes here, and usually that only happens if you suck their dicks," Brendon objected.

"Because my brother used to go to this school, and earned a place in every frat houses heart," you maintained, "are you done asking pointless questions now, Urie?"

"Not in the slightest," he murmured. Before he could ask anymore pointless questions, the professor entered and called for the class to sit down.

--

You shuffle out of the room as soon as the lecture ended, finally having the chance to go to your dormitory. Unfortunately, you hadn't taken a large enough head start because Brendon caught up with you.

"You know, you're very evasive," he claimed. He had a smug smirk on his face and mischief evident in his eyes. You knew better than to trust that look.

"I'm only evasive when the human embodiment of a stubbed toe wants to talk to me," you muttered. You wanted him to take the hint and leave before you said something you would regret.

"Oh, you can't hate me that much," he teased. You were silent for a moment too long and the smug look on his face was replaced with one of surprise, "you really hate me?"

"What have you done to make me like you?" You answered with your own question. Two can play at this game. He stopped walking, frozen in the middle of the hallway. You didn't dare look back and continued walking until he could no longer spot you amongst the crowd of people, young and old.

--

You took a long shower before going back to your room and got changed into your pyjamas. It was time for a well deserved nap.

Not before someone knocked on the door. You let out an exaggerated sigh before walking over to the door. You peeked, timidly, through the peephole and only saw darkness. The person at the door was covering it.

You knew better than to answer it unarmed, so you quickly received your pocket knife from your bedside table, and braced yourself. You swung the door open and was surprised by the figure before you.

"Brendon?" You speculated.

"Hey," he sighed, he didn't have his usual smug smirk, only a look of forlorn.

"What do you want?" You deadpanned. He had no right to be there, that was your safe space, a place to get away from everything that was stressing you. Him, especially.

"Look, I'm sorry for making you believe I was a pretentious douche," he started, "and asking dumb questions about dumb things. I'm dumb."

"You're not dumb, just a smart ass," you laughed dryly.

"And you're smart, so I tried getting your attention the only way I knew how," he scratched the back if his neck, "admittedly, it's never gotten me a girlfriend."

"And you thought it'd be good to use on me?" You asked, "you hear rumours about me left and right, no doubt you heard the one about me punching Jason in the nards."

Not only did you just speak more than a sentence to him, but you said 'nards'. Maybe he was getting to you.

"Yeah, I heard that one. Didn't know if it was true or-"

"It was," you interrupted.

"Right. Well, it didn't stop my small, maybe not that small, crush on you from forming, and I suppose the longer I kept up the act, the longer I put off my inevitable liking toward you," he explained.

"You don't even know me, how do you like me?"

"You ask too many questions," he chuckled, "can we start over? Instead of arguing, how about I come in, we can watch a movie and get to know each other? All problems aside?"

You thought it over for a second. You had no friends, just acquaintances and boys your brother made a deal with to protect you. In return, you tutored them and helped keep their grades up.

However, that was all.

Thus, you did something you never expected to do. You nodded and opened the door wide enough for him to slip through. He did so with a smile and you closed it. He sat down and pat the spot next to him.