Work Text:
"BREEEEEENDOOOOOON!" Ian's voice calls from the bedroom. Brendon is snapped out of the extreme focus required to properly set up movie night.
"What?" He yells back.
"Come help me!"
Brendon starts moving immediately, his brain coming up with a thousand different scenarios that could lead to Ian needing help. Could someone have broken in? No, Brendon would've heard that. A spider? No, Ian can take care of those himself.
Brendon stumbles into the bedroom, and almost starts laughing at the sight before him. Ian was stuck in his binder. For the third time that week.
"Stop smiling, this isn't funny!"
"It's kinda funny."
"No it's not, you dick. Help me."
Brendon stepped over to do ask asked, guiding Ian's arms until he was free. Ian took a few deep breaths, before covering his chest with his arms.
"Okay okay, you can get out now!"
It's a few moments later, after Brendon has narrowed down the movie choices, that Ian steps out into the living room, wearing a Frank Sinatra shirt that's a little bit too big and shorts.
"That's mine." Brendon says, gesturing vaguely towards Ian's upper body. He's not ma, though, as the smile on his face tells.
"What makes you think that?'
"I remember buying it? For myself?"
"Oh. Tragic. It's mine now."
Brendon laughs, "What movie do you wanna watch?"
"Bolt. The Disney one," Ian responds enthusiastically, sitting on the couch and snuggling into Brendon's side. Brendon sects the movie on Netflix, and the night truly begins.