The One Where Brendon Gets Knocked Up [standalone]

Title: The One Where Brendon Gets Knocked Up
Author: arctic_grey
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon, Jon/Brendon, Spencer/Brendon
POV: 3rd, omniscient
Summary: Brendon turns into a girl for a day and his bandmates cannot control their urges. And so, when Brendon turns back into a guy and discovers he is pregnant, no one knows who the father is.
Disclaimer: Not real, for obvious reasons.
Warnings: genderswap, mpreg.
Author Notes: I wanted to write something funny and light-hearted. And um, this is what came out. Despite the rating, most of this is fluff.



They had been touring for three months straight when, one day in late September, Brendon turned into a girl. He woke up and he had breasts. Now, the breasts were ok, but more worryingly, there wasn’t that familiar weight of his dick and balls between his legs. In horror and confusion, Brendon reached between his thighs and his now-small-and-delicate fingers slid into moist warmth.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” he yelled, his voice was high-pitched and girly.

His screaming woke up Ryan sleeping on the bed next to his in the hotel room. Ryan grunted in annoyance; this was their first day off in ages, and he wanted to sleep in. But Brendon was screaming loudly, probably having found Spongebob Squarepants on the television or something.

“Keep it down,” Ryan muttered, but opened his eyes a little. And what he saw made it impossible for him to go back to sleep.

Ryan saw Brendon running to the bathroom in his boxers and slamming the door closed behind him. Not very unusual Brendon behaviour, because that kid always had been a bit weird. But Ryan was convinced he had seen two breasts attached to Brendon’s chest this time.

“What the fuck…?” he whispered as he hurriedly scrambled off the bed, almost falling down on the covers tied around him. He quickly went to the bathroom door. “Brendon? Brendon, are you ok?”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” came a wail from the other side. Ryan heard sobbing mixed with hysterical laughter.

“Brendon, come on man, talk to me,” Ryan insisted. There was no way Brendon was in there, crying because he had boobs. Ryan had just had sleep in his eyes. That kind of shit just didn’t happen.

“NO!” Brendon screamed and Ryan thought he sounded a bit…weird. It was Brendon’s voice, definitely, but…more feminine.

Ryan shook his head. He hadn’t realised he had been this sleep deprived because he was obviously hallucinating. Brendon kept crying on the other side of the locked door, and Ryan didn’t know what to do. In the end he quickly got dressed and fetched Spencer and Jon.

“Yo, Brendon, stop being a bitch and open up,” Jon said and knocked on the bathroom door. This, funnily enough, caused Brendon to wail louder than ever. Jon gave Ryan a confused look and Ryan just shrugged.

“Just tell us what’s the matter,” Spencer offered as Jon went to the bed, sat next to Ryan and waited.

There was a long, long silence before they could hear Brendon’s voice again. “It’s like…” came an extremely quiet response.

“Like what?” Spencer encouraged and leaned towards the door to hear better.

“Like…I…I…like…”

Jon was impatiently tapping his thigh, and Ryan was afraid of what Brendon might say. He hadn’t told Jon or Spencer about the might-have-been-boobs sighting.

To their surprise, they heard the door unlock. Spencer stepped away and they all held in their breaths. And then Brendon walked out, still only in boxers, his hands protectively covering his breasts.

“Like this,” he whined, obviously on the verge of tears.

“Holy mother of god,” Jon said slowly.

“What the fuck is this?” Brendon immediately asked them, his expression distraught. “I like boobs but not on me!”

Spencer didn’t say anything. He simply couldn’t. Brendon’s ass was, if possible, a little rounder than before, his hips more prominent and curved and, yeah, there were those rather pretty-looking breasts Brendon was trying to cover up.

Ryan’s mouth had gone dry. Their lead singer was a girl. They would have to ship Brendon to a Swiss private hospital in secret and do a sex change operation on him. Or something. Also, Brendon should shave. As a girl, hairy legs were not sexy.

“This is a fucking sick joke on my masculinity!” Brendon exclaimed, his hands lifting to the air in frustration. His breasts softly bounced as they were freed, his three bandmates doing a sharp intake of breath at the sight of the pink nipples. “Oops!” Brendon muttered and quickly cupped his breasts again.

“Nice,” Jon said, though he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

“They are not as great as they seem!” Brendon snapped. “I mean, am I going to be a girl for the rest of my life?”

“I don’t think so,” Spencer cut in and everyone turned to look at him in surprise. Spencer smiled a little. “Yeah, um…Pete told me this happened to Patrick once. But, um, apparently he just turned back into a guy after a week or so.”

“A week?!” Brendon cried out.

“Patrick was a chick?” Ryan repeated in astonishment.

“Who the fuck cares if Patrick was a chick!” Brendon spat. “What matters is that I’m a chick and I shouldn’t be! I’m a guy, ok? I am A GUY!”

Jon coughed a little. “So…er…you mean…that…Brendon Junior is also, um, on a holiday?”

“Yeah,” Brendon managed to say through gritted teeth. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

“Wait, what?” Ryan asked, even more bewildered. “You’ve got a vagina now?”

Brendon blushed furiously, confirming that Ryan was right. This was absurd. Brendon went back into the bathroom to get dressed and left his bandmates to assess the worrying situation.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Spencer reasoned. “I mean, yeah, it’s weird as hell, but he’ll turn back into a guy.”

Jon snickered. “I think it’s funny how you can barely notice that he’s a she…”

“Jon, not the point here! God!” Ryan snapped. Jon gave Ryan an innocent look and Ryan grinned a little. “Though, did you see the rack on him?” Ryan asked. Jon and Spencer nodded and they all grinned some more. It was the third month of touring, of no girls, of no sex. Brendon was a rather pretty sight.

Brendon came back from the bathroom, wearing baggy clothes to hide his curves. He almost looked exactly like he normally did, except…the three of them all noticed it, Brendon was different. Delicate? Maybe that was the word for it. Not to mention Brendon looked so lost and helpless, and they almost felt like cuddling with Brendon on the bed, rubbing his back and telling him it would be alright.

“I’m just going to stay inside as much as I can for the following week,” Brendon said. “Maybe we should reschedule the shows until then.”

“I don’t know, with enough make up and the right clothes on you, we could still go on,” Ryan shrugged. “We’ll see how it goes.”

Brendon stood still a bit more before crossing his arms. “Ok, you guys are staring. Stop staring!” he insisted. There was a mumbled chorus of “Sorry” and some coughing.

The previous night they had planned on going out that day, just hanging out or maybe going to the cinema. Now, Brendon obviously wasn’t going to want to go with them, so Spencer, Jon and Ryan got ready to leave.

Brendon kept fidgeting, unable to stay still. When asked what his problem was, Brendon said that his body just felt weird.

Jon shrugged. “Dude, consider yourself lucky. I mean, if I had, you know,” he said and nodded towards Brendon’s crotch, “I’d spend my week experimenting and having a hell of a lot of fun.”

“Stop giving him ideas,” Spencer told Jon sternly and smacked the top of Jon’s head as they left the hotel room. They left behind a very confused, but now intrigued Brendon.

* * *

When the guys came back to the hotel several hours later with a takeaway pizza for their good friend with “the situation,” as they had labelled it, they all froze upon entering Brendon and Ryan’s hotel room.

The smell. The room smelled distinctively of pussy. Maybe it sounded vulgar, but all three of them had had enough sex to recognise it. At the same time, though, the room smelled of Brendon. And that’s when they realised that the room smelled of Brendon’s pussy.

“Fuck,” Ryan breathed, his throat feeling unnaturally tight. He could feel something primitive stir at the pit of his stomach, a fire to…locate the source of this goddamn delicious smell and…and…

Spencer walked in further and his bandmates followed. The sheets on Brendon’s bed were a mess. He could envision Brendon on it, with his hand between his legs, arching into the touch…Spencer’s jeans suddenly felt a bit too tight.

Jon placed the pizza on the small coffee table just as the bathroom door opened and Brendon walked out.

“Oh hey!” he greeted them cheerfully. Brendon had a…a glow about him. Brendon had a white towel around his waist, his hair still wet from a shower. “Yay, pizza!” Brendon said as he spotted the box and immediately skipped over.

The three of them stared at Brendon, who was…topless. Brendon was topless, his nipples slightly sticking out, his breasts pale, round, perfect, inviting…Brendon noticed the staring and looked down.

“Shit, sorry! I keep forgetting,” he lamented.

“That’s ok,” Jon managed to murmur, his voice husky.

Brendon began to move his towel further up, but only ended up flashing the entire room. “Sorry, sorry! My girl hands are fucking clumsy!” he told them apologetically.

Spencer looked from Jon to Ryan, his eyes wide and a little desperate. Brendon covered himself up and started munching on the pizza.

“It’s totally weird, being a girl, like, I shaved my legs and shit, because I felt like I had to, you know? Not to mention I put on make up earlier because I just really felt like I had to, you know, being a girl is totally weird,” Brendon babbled. “I mean, I shaved my armpits too! No armpit hair! Weird!”

Brendon bent over to pick up another slice as his bandmates stared at his ass. Ryan’s hands were curling into fists as he so desperately wanted to touch something…

“Anyway, what did you guys do?” Brendon asked as he swirled around, his hip bent suggestively, the tiny towel barely covering him.

“I was more thinking of…what have you been doing, Brendon?” Ryan asked, his voice filled with lust Brendon was completely oblivious to.

“I just, you know, been doing nothing,” Brendon lied. He hadn’t realised that his bandmates could smell his exploration of his female body parts very distinctively. He contently ate half of the pizza in the space of two minutes because, man, having multiple orgasms kind of made him hungry.

“I think you’re a very pretty girl,” Jon admitted, his voice oozing seduction.

“Thanks!” Brendon beamed happily. “Anything to drink?”

Spencer took a tentative step towards Brendon, afraid of launching on top of him. He handed Brendon a can of Red Bull and Brendon grinned wider. “Awesome!”

Brendon drank it as Ryan, Spencer and Jon all looked at each other. At this point they all were hard and desperate to fuck this beautiful girl, er, Brendon, in front of them. They read each other’s expressions clearly and the air in the room suddenly felt very heavy.

“Brendon…remember how just a few days ago we were talking about how great it’d be to get laid?” Ryan began carefully.

“Yeah, but, with a you-know-what between my legs that’s sort of on hold, you know?” Brendon laughed as he finished his drink.

God, Brendon just wasn’t getting it.

“Brendon,” Jon now tried, “you should totally try to have sex as a girl. With…a guy. You know, someone you trust and wouldn’t, er, take advantage of your situation.”

There was nodding as Ryan and Spencer agreed. Brendon looked confused. “You think so?” he asked in a wondering tone.

Spencer groaned in frustration. “Brendon, I’m going to fuck you now,” he said.

Brendon’s jaw dropped in shock and realisation, but Spencer had already roughly pulled the towel of off him, leaving him naked.

“But - ” Brendon tried to protest, but he was already being pushed to lie on Ryan’s bed. Without missing a beat Spencer pulled Brendon’s legs apart, leaned down between the smooth thighs and let his tongue slide into Brendon’s heat.

Brendon gasped, because god, his fingers had been nothing compared to this. Ok, so his bandmate was now licking him, the flat of Spencer’s tongue moving in broad strokes over him. It was weird and it should have been wrong, but it was unbelievably good. Brendon spread his legs further, because he had never felt anything like it.

Jon and Ryan watched in an aroused state the way Brendon’s hips began to move restlessly as Spencer licked him. Brendon’s hands curled into fists around the sheets as he tried to fuck himself against Spencer’s mouth. When Spencer sucked on Brendon’s clit, and let two fingers slide into him, Brendon came. And it was even better than any of the orgasms he had given himself so far.

Spencer pulled back a little, completely lost in the taste on his tongue. He nibbled on Brendon’s inner thighs as the muscles still contracted in the aftershock of Brendon’s orgasm.

“Me now,” Ryan said as he was already pulling off his clothes.

“I’ve just got started,” Spencer protested.

“Too bad,” Ryan said as he hurried to get his jeans off. Jon decided to be helpful by going through Ryan’s stuff and finding a pack of condoms. He handed Ryan one as Spencer reluctantly climbed off the bed. Brendon was just staring at the ceiling, thinking that this might very well be the best day of his life.

Ryan was too horny to care that Jon and Spencer would now see him naked, hard, and fucking someone. He rolled the condom on and quickly got on the bed, between Brendon’s legs. And though his dick was screaming him to get in there, right now, he had to stop for a second as Brendon made eyecontact with him.

Ryan’s hand moved up between Brendon’s thighs and he pushed a finger in him. Brendon moaned and his eyes slid closed. God that was beautiful. Ryan leaned over his friend of many years and kissed Brendon. They had kissed before, but they had never…and there was that one time they had been a bit drunk and they had made out, but the day after they pretended it never had happened. But Ryan had a feeling this might be harder to ignore.

Ryan moved down to Brendon’s breasts. He kept pushing a finger in and out of Brendon’s dripping heat as he sucked on one nipple at a time. Brendon was moaning helplessly, he was moaning Ryan’s name, and Ryan had never thought his name could sound so sexy coming from Brendon.

Brendon wrapped his legs around Ryan as Ryan pushed in. Brendon didn’t mean to say “Oh god, oh fucking god” at the feel of Ryan’s cock in him, but he did. Ryan thought that Brendon had had enough foreplay by then, and proceeded to fuck Brendon.

“Is he tight?” Jon asked, suddenly reminding Ryan of the presence of on-lookers. And to Ryan’s surprise it turned him on to know they were being watched.

“Yeah,” Ryan managed to moan in response. It then occurred to Ryan that, holy fuck, what if Brendon’s pussy had been a virgin up until then? But Brendon was pushing his hips against Ryan’s feverishly, his actions needy, and Ryan hadn’t felt any resistance when he buried his cock in Brendon. Maybe girl-Brendon wasn’t a virgin because the guy-Brendon wasn’t.

Brendon had lost count of the number of orgasms he had had that day. He was digging his nails into Ryan’s back, begging for Ryan to go harder and faster. Every time Ryan thrust in, his pelvic bone made contact with Brendon’s swollen clit and, within a few minutes, Brendon came again. The feel of his muscles squeezing around Ryan’s cock was heavenly.

As having been deprived of sex for too long, that was all it took for Ryan to come. He collapsed on top of Brendon and kissed him feverishly. But there was no chance of enjoying the afterglow here.

“Right, move,” Jon said impatiently. He had now watched Spencer go down on Brendon and Ryan fuck Brendon. It was his turn. Ryan grunted and rolled off of Brendon. Jon was already naked and good to go.

Brendon was panting and covered in sweat. The sheets beneath his pussy were wet, the heat between his thighs seemingly insatiable. Jon tried to decide how he wanted to fuck Brendon and then just decided to go with his favourite.

He got on the bed as Ryan got off it. “Turn around,” he told Brendon and it took Brendon five seconds to register his words. Brendon turned around on the bed and Jon guided him to the position he wanted. Brendon was on his knees with his legs parted and Jon took Brendon’s hands to the barred headboard.

“It’ll help if you hold on to something,” Jon murmured in Brendon’s ear. Brendon nodded a little and then cried out as Jon’s cock pushed in him. Brendon’s knuckles were white as he held onto the bars, his body shaking.

Jon fucked him harder than Ryan had, letting his nails dig into Brendon’s hips as he held the younger boy still. Ryan had been right, Brendon did have a tight pussy. Jon looked down to marvel the view of his cock sliding into Brendon, the condom glistening with Brendon’s juices when he pulled out. Jon snaked his hand to Brendon’s front and pressed his forefinger against Brendon’s clit.

Brendon moaned louder than before and slurred a plea of, “J-Jon, that’s too much, that’s - ”

“There’s no such thing…as too much,” Jon replied in between thrusts and let his finger move in circles over Brendon’s clit. He kept pounding into him and Brendon was shaking beneath him. Brendon’s whole body jerked when he came with a cry of Jon’s name. Jon fucked Brendon through it before eventually releasing himself inside the condom.

Jon’s chest pressed against Brendon’s back when he leaned over. “You did good, Bren,” Jon panted in his friend’s ear before sliding out of the tight pussy. Brendon groaned at the loss, but simply collapsed on the bed the second Jon was out of him.

Brendon was exhausted. This was more exhausting than a two-hour show, and his mind was hazy and unwilling to form sentences. But just as Brendon thought he was now in the clear, there was a weight shift on the bed. He was being pulled upwards and soon realised that Spencer hadn’t had his way with him yet.

“You can top now,” Spencer told Brendon. Brendon was about to say he was too tired, that he just couldn’t, but as Spencer moved beneath him and Brendon was above Spencer with his legs spread and Spencer’s cock inches away…the situation was too hot for Brendon not to.

Brendon positioned himself hungrily and then pushed himself down on Spencer’s cock. They both gasped as Brendon’s hands settled on Spencer’s chest. His fingertips kept touching Spencer, in need of the support, as Brendon began to move his hips against Spencer. He wasn’t at all sure how this was supposed to work, how much he was supposed to move his hips, but it was good. And as long as it was good, Brendon reasoned he was doing an alright job.

Spencer thought Brendon was doing a fantastic job. Brendon’s breasts bounced beautifully as Brendon’s head rolled back at the feel of their bodies working together. Spencer’s hands were on Brendon’s hips, guiding him a little. He was pushing upwards every time Brendon pushed down, and when Brendon started to push down in a circular motion, Spencer had to use all his willpower not to come. Spencer pressed one of Brendon’s hands towards the heated area where their bodies were joined and groaned, “Touch yourself.”

Brendon moaned and did, his muscles immediately tightening around Spencer as Brendon rubbed his clit. And when Brendon came, Spencer forced him to keep moving. Spencer took a firm hold of Brendon’s hips and kept the friction going, kept pounding into Brendon. When Brendon came a second time, Spencer let go and came with him.

Brendon collapsed on top of Spencer and Spencer wasn’t sure if it was sweat or tears on Brendon’s cheeks. Maybe both. They kissed before Brendon rolled off of Spencer. Spencer pulled off the condom and tied it. He threw it to the nearest bin and saw Ryan and Jon lying on Brendon’s bed. He lay back down next to Brendon on the other bed.

“That was pretty good,” Brendon said weakly, realising it was an understatement and began to laugh a little hysterically. “My pussy is so sore right now.”

Jon chuckled a little and the sound of it was the last thing Ryan heard before falling asleep, feeling content. And within minutes silence fell in the room and all was left was the steady breathing of four exhausted guys.

* * *

The next day Spencer woke up to Brendon’s morningwood pressing uncomfortably against the small of his back.

“Dude, not cool,” Spencer grunted and pushed Brendon off. Brendon accidentally fell off the bed, but instantly jumped back up.

“I’ve got my penis back!” he screamed in overflowing happiness. Ryan opened his eyes a little and this time got a full flash of Urie ass before Brendon ran to the bathroom.

Jon, Spencer and Ryan were all quick enough to get dressed. They were in the same room together, and there was nudity, and that was a little weird. Brendon came back from the toilet, now wearing boxers and this time he had no boobs.

There were a few seconds of uncertainty. Had they completely and utterly taken advantage of a vulnerable girl last night? Did Brendon feel violated?

“I love my cock,” Brendon said as he held back a tear of joy. This seemed to be the only thought on his mind and his bandmates were happy to leave it at that.

“I’m sure you’ll do great deeds with it,” Jon told him and Brendon nodded in agreement.

And things went back to normal after that. After all, they hadn’t fucked Brendon exactly, it had been a different person. And Brendon even joked about it a few times if he got really bored, exclaiming, “Do you know which one of you has the biggest cock? Because I do!” and got pillows thrown at him.

So they finished the North American tour and took a short break. Come November they headed over to Asia and Europe, and in Tokyo Brendon got food poisoning. They took him to a doctor, who only spoke Japanese. The doctor gave them some kinds of pills, which Brendon took. The pills, however, did nothing.

Brendon kept getting sick, usually in the mornings. He became irritable and slept all the time. Spencer made the lethal mistake of saying he was PMSing and Brendon smacked him.

In Beijing, Brendon disappeared for an afternoon. While his bandmates tried to figure out where their lead singer was, Brendon was calmly sitting in the doctor’s waiting room. He had googled an English speaking doctor in the city and had made an appointment. What the doctor told Brendon didn’t surprise him at all. Brendon had felt it growing inside him.

They did an ultrasound and the doctor pointed at the small lump of…well, it wasn’t much yet. But it was there. And it had a heartbeat.

Brendon left the doctor’s feeling a strange mix of parental pride and terror.

Back at the hotel, he got bitched at and he shrugged and said he had gone to “check out the scene.” As they headed over to a radio station for an interview, Brendon sat in the back of the car, looking at his bandmates. He looked at Jon picking his teeth, at Ryan snoring in his sleep and at Spencer impatiently drumming his thigh.

Unconsciously, Brendon put his hand over his stomach as he wondered…who was the father?

* * *

Brendon wasn’t sure how to tell his bandmates that he was pregnant. Not to mention he didn’t know how to tell them that one of them was the father. Or rather, that he didn’t know which one of them was the father. It took Brendon over a week to finally spit it out. At that point they had a week of touring left before they were flying back home.

Brendon could have been a bit smoother about telling the news to his bandmates.

That night they left the stage and stood in the shadows, listening to the crowd chant “More, more, more!” repeatedly. Just as it had been long enough for them to go and do the encore, Brendon turned to Spencer, smiled and said, “Guess what, Spence! I’m pregnant and it could be yours!”

Spencer’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped, and Brendon quickly ran back to the stage. During their last song Brendon walked up to Ryan and gave him a sexy smile. He leaned into his ear like he sometimes did and he whispered, “Ryan, I’m knocked up and it could be yours.”

Ryan kept playing, although he froze. He actually forgot to play, but luckily his hands were so used to playing the chords that they did it automatically.

“What?” he asked Brendon in horror, but Brendon quickly went back to his microphone stand in the middle of the stage.

As they walked off the stage, and Brendon could see both Ryan and Spencer walking over to him in hurried steps, Brendon brotherly put his arm over Jon’s shoulder and said, “You know what, Jon? I’ve got one in the oven and it could be yours.”

Jon stumbled on his feet, and Brendon thought it best to flee.

Brendon was hiding in the lounge area of the back of the bus after having showered and changed clothes when his bandmates finally found him. They all spoke at once as Brendon gave them his cute face and feigned innocence.

“You think that’s funny, saying shit like that?” Spencer snapped.

“Is it true?” Ryan asked with big eyes.

“Fuck, this is cool!” Jon beamed.

“Jon, he’s not pregnant, guys don’t get pregnant,” Spencer reminded the bassist.

“Spencer is right, but,” Brendon cut in, because he had done his research at that point, “you seem to be forgetting I was a girl. And girls can get pregnant. Now, I was looking around online, and it’s really quite simple. I got pregnant that day and, although I changed back into a guy, the embryo stayed. And with what the doctor said, it seems I’ve still got the womb as well, which is kind of fucked up because I don’t have ovaries or a vagina or…but point being, that I’ve got a womb and there’s a…a thing in it. Growing.”

“I’m gonna be a dad!” Jon exclaimed enthusiastically.

“Who said it was yours, Walker?” Ryan snapped and glared at Jon.

“This has to be against the laws of nature,” Spencer whispered as his mouth hung open. “How far along are you?”

“Eleven weeks,” Brendon replied.

“Are you showing? Can I touch it?” Jon enquired.

“I want to touch it,” Ryan cut in demandingly.

“But we used protection!” Spencer said. “How can you be pregnant?”

“Even condoms aren’t 100% safe,” Brendon shrugged. Some more yelling followed, including a lot of head shaking from Spencer, baby name suggestions from Jon and brooding from Ryan. Brendon sat still quietly, biting his lip a little.

“I’ve got an idea!” Spencer piped in after a minute, “it starts with an ‘a’ and ends in ‘bortion!’”

For the first time Jon’s smile faltered. “Never say that again, you jackass! That might be my kid in there,” he said and motioned at Brendon. At this stage Brendon wasn’t showing yet, though he no longer could wear his favourite pair of tight jeans.

“It might not be,” Spencer reminded Jon dutifully.

“But it could be. My flesh and blood!” Jon insisted and turned to Brendon. “I promise you, I’ll take care of you both, I’ll move to Vegas or anything you want, I’ll be the kind of dad who is there - ”

“Whoa, whoa!” Ryan interrupted. “Firstly, Spencer, shut the fuck up. Don’t say the ‘a’ word again. Secondly, Jon, I think Brendon and I have got it from here, thanks, you can just stay in Chicago - ”

“I’m twenty! I’m not ready to have a kid!” Spencer exclaimed in frustration.

“And you think I am?”

At this they all stopped their ranting and properly looked at Brendon for the first time in minutes. Brendon was biting his lip a little, his arms crossed and his eyes fixed to the floor.

“I’m only twenty,” he said. “I’m a guy and I’m pregnant and I don’t even know who the father is. So it kind of sucks to be me right now.”

There was a long, embarrassed silence before Spencer sighed. “Look…it’s your decision, Brendon. Whatever you decide…we’ll stand by it.”

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed softly and Jon nodded a little.

Brendon had had a week to think about it. It was his baby. Yes, one of his male best friends was the father, which was fucked up and most certainly unplanned. Brendon knew nothing about babies, pregnancy or any of it. And Brendon was a guy, so he must have been the dad, but he was carrying it, which kind of made him a mum. And he wasn’t sure which one he was and the whole thing confused him a great deal.

But the fact remained: the baby was his.

Brendon was quiet for a few more minutes before looking at his friends again. “I’m keeping it,” he said.

And that was that.

* * *

For the rest of the tour, which only lasted for a week anyway, Ryan and Jon kept murmuring how Brendon really shouldn’t be on stage every night, wearing himself out like that. Spencer was having a crisis, and Brendon was embracing his pregnancy. The first thing Brendon did was eat a ton of Skittles, he justified it by “having to eat for two.”

If there was one good thing about the whole mess, it was that the band was now taking a break. Ryan did the maths in his head, and concluded that the baby would be born in the summer. In fact, Brendon might give birth just in time for the band to be able to perform in festivals in August. The spring they were meant to spend working on a new album, and they could still go ahead with that; Brendon was pregnant, not incapable of composing and singing. So at least it seemed Brendon could have the baby in peace.

Brendon had recently bought himself a house in Las Vegas, and upon his arrival back home, settled there and began fixing it up to his liking. Ryan’s house was a twenty-minute drive away, but Ryan still thought it a too far a distance to his liking. Jon, to Ryan’s great annoyance, indefinitely moved to a five-star hotel in Vegas, just to be close by.

But it hardly mattered where they lived, because Brendon’s house soon became their headquarters. Ryan stumbled in with ten different baby books, Jon with flowers and a stuffed animal, and even Spencer came around, though he didn’t bring anything.

“I was looking at different nurseries in Las Vegas, and in this one they teach the kids to speak Chinese!” Ryan told Brendon and shoved a brochure at him.

Brendon frowned. “Why would I want my kid to speak Chinese?”

Ryan’s smile faltered. “Well…he or she could order Chinese food in China Town in Chinese.”

“There are some awesome universities back in Illinois,” Jon piped in.

“How about we wait for it to be born first, ok?” Spencer asked and kept his eyes on the TV. Ryan and Jon glared at Spencer, who obviously just didn’t get it.

Brendon got himself a rather dodgy Mexican doctor. His clinic was in a spare room of his house, but it had all the equipment you see on TV, so it seemed alright. For reasons such as being famous, being a guy, Brendon had decided that secrecy was key here.

The first time Brendon asked one of the guys to come along for the ultrasound, they ended up drawing sticks. Ryan won. The smile on Ryan’s face when their doctor, Dr. Sanchez, let Ryan listen to the baby’s heartbeat was so wide Ryan’s cheek muscles almost froze. And then Ryan saw it on the screen, and apparently that was a hand and that was a leg.

“I don’t want to know its sex,” Brendon said firmly, though Ryan would have liked to have known. Dr. Sanchez said it was too early to tell, anyway.

The paternity of the child could not be determined until after birth. Ryan was convinced it was his. He had been the first one to have sex with Brendon that time and, for that simple reason, he was sure it was his sperm that got there first. Jon, also, was convinced it was his. He had always loved kids, he had always dreamt of being a dad. So, ok, having a kid with Brendon hadn’t been something he had ever imagined he’d do, but he loved Brendon and he already loved the baby. Spencer prayed it wasn’t his. He reasoned that Brendon had been on top of him, and, thus, gravity hopefully had prevented his sperm from reaching the egg. But Spencer knew it was rather far-fetched that that had actually happened.

In truth, there was no way of knowing who the dad was. But one thing they all did know, was that it was going to be a long, long nine months.

* * *

After the holiday break the band took, Ryan came to Brendon’s house when no one else was there. Brendon was four months pregnant and there definitely was a bump there now, but Brendon could wear a loose shirt and still get away with it. Brendon let Ryan in as Ryan did the usual, “How are you feeling? How’s the baby?” routine. But soon enough Ryan had cornered Brendon in the kitchen, his hands flat against the wall on both sides of Brendon’s head.

“You know how there always has been this…massive amount of attraction between you and me, Bren?” Ryan began the conversation as Brendon was trapped in front of him.

“What?” Brendon repeated rather feebly with wide eyes.

“You know,” Ryan said casually, “this electrifying, chemical, raw sexual attraction that sometimes I just look at you and think, ‘I have to have that boy right now?’ That sort of burning need that we feel for each other?”

Brendon gulped. “…er…yes?”

“Why do you think that is?” Ryan questioned him.

Ryan had always wanted a family of his own. His childhood had by no means been ideal, and he wanted the chance to try again and get it right the second time. He would be the kind of dad who helped his kid with the homework, played football in the park, who would be there for the first word and first step. Now, if only Brendon could see that all this required was for them to be together, Ryan would have all of that.

“It’s because…um…you’re hot?” Brendon asked uncertainly.

“Hey thanks, but not the right answer,” Ryan said and gave Brendon a sexy smile. Brendon gave a nervous laugh. “I was thinking, Brendon…could it be because we are, in fact, destined to be together?” he asked and leaned in closer.

“Uh, I don’t know about that,” Brendon replied helplessly.

Ryan placed one hand on Brendon’s stomach, which was becoming more and more distinctive every day. “And it took this for us to realise we’re meant to be,” Ryan continued and pressed on Brendon’s belly a little.

Brendon was about to point out how they couldn’t know who the father was, when Ryan leaned to Brendon’s ear and whispered, “I want to make love to you…slow…excruciatingly slow…”

Brendon and Ryan had never even had sex, and Brendon was trying to figure out where the fuck this was coming from. Yes, girl-Brendon had slept with Ryan, but the boy-Brendon had only made out with the guitarist a little bit.

And now they were making out again in Brendon’s kitchen, and Brendon felt incredibly horny. But that’s when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll, uh, go answer it real quick,” Brendon promised Ryan. He went to the door, wiping his mouth a little, and it was Jon.

“Hey,” Jon smiled happily and pecked Brendon’s cheek. “How you feeling?”

“Er, fine, um, Jon, if you could come back a bit later,” Brendon started and Jon frowned.

Jon looked over Brendon’s shoulder and his eyes darkened. “Ryan, didn’t think you’d be here. Didn’t you say on the phone, oh thirty minutes ago, that you had an appointment with the dentist?”

Ryan walked to the door, looking slightly guilty. “Yeah, my dentist cancelled it. Er, um, he had a family emergency.”

“Huh. What a coincidence,” Jon marked. He then let himself in and turned around to face Brendon and Ryan. “Hey, now that we’re all here, how about we watch a film!”

Jon sat on the couch between Ryan and Brendon through a nearly three-hour The Sound of Music. Ryan kept fiddling with his fingers and tried to look over at Brendon. Whenever he did Jon moved in the way or exclaimed, “Look, now the kids are singing again!”

When Jon left that night, he made damn sure that Ryan left with him.

* * *

“Brendon, marry me,” Jon said all of a sudden as Brendon and him were having lunch at Taco Bell (Brendon had recently developed a craving for their vegetarian Crunchwrap Supreme).

“What?” Brendon asked with wide eyes with a bit of salsa on the corner of his mouth.

Jon gave him a warm smile. “Marry me.”

“Er…”

“I’ll buy us a house here in Vegas, one with a nice yard for our kid to mess about in,” Jon assured, “I’ll be a great husband, Brendon, I’ll respect you and take care of you and love you until I die,” Jon promised and took a hold of Brendon’s hand.

Brendon cleared his throat a little and wiped his mouth. “Jon…don’t you think you’re rushing this a bit?”

“I’m only thinking what’s best for our child! I think stability is something he or she will need, the baby will need loving parents,” Jon reasoned.

“But you’re not in love with me,” Brendon pointed out.

Jon frowned. “So?”

“And it might not be yours.”

Jon scoffed disbelievingly. “Whose would it be then? Ryan’s?” he asked mockingly.

“Look! It’s Kate Winslet!” Brendon said and pointed behind Jon.

Jon immediately turned around, because he had had a crush on Kate Winslet ever since he had seen her tits in Titanic. “Really?” he asked enthusiastically. When he turned back around, Brendon had disappeared.

“I can’t believe I fell for that,” Jon muttered.

* * *

The band was practising in Ryan’s house, where Ryan had a small music room. It was big enough for all their instruments (and five of Ryan’s guitars). Brendon had been in a bad mood, because his shoes no longer fit him. He had been fine with getting bigger clothes, but shoes? He had to give up his beloved shoes? It sucked. He was halfway through his pregnancy now, and kind of wished the whole thing would be over already.

Brendon was singing the chorus to a new song, when he went quiet and said “oh.”

“Stop, stop, stop!” Ryan sighed and they all stopped playing. “Oh?” he repeated, “My lyrics go ‘oh?’”

Brendon was looking at him with wide eyes. “No, the baby is kicking ‘oh!’”

Jon literally dropped his bass as he hurried over and placed his hand on Brendon’s stomach. “Where? Where?” he asked enthusiastically.

Ryan joined them and soon the two of them were patiently violating Brendon’s personal space or so Brendon thought. “The baby’s not moving anymore,” he said. “You freaks scared it.”

Ryan looked at Brendon with big eyes and a pouty lip. “Make it move, Bren!” he whined unhappily. He wanted to feel his kid move in there! How amazing was pregnancy! It was totally insane!

“He can’t make it move, it’s not a dog,” Spencer pointed out from behind his drum kit.

“This is so cool,” Jon smiled and kissed Brendon on the lips. Brendon kissed him back and Ryan glared at them unhappily.

“Jon, stop making out with the father of my child,” Ryan snapped.

Jon pulled back and glared at Ryan. “Your child? I don’t think so.”

“Oh I know so,” Ryan replied.

This was followed by a ten-minute shouting match during which Jon and Ryan questioned each other’s masculinity and sperm count at least a dozen times. It didn’t stop when Brendon walked out, saying that he couldn’t deal with the negative energy, and it didn’t stop when Spencer threw drumsticks at Jon and Ryan in a bored manner.

The next day when they practised again, the baby kicked five times. Brendon didn’t say anything of it.

* * *

When Spencer stopped at Brendon’s to drop off recordings for new songs, he stumbled into a very awkward situation. Brendon opened the door, eyes red and cheeks wet, saw Spencer, burst into tears, and ran back into the house.

Spencer’s jaw dropped open and he hesitated before walking in and closing the door. He found Brendon curled up on the living room couch, crying hysterically.

“Brendon? What’s the matter?” Spencer asked carefully as he sat next to his friend.

“Everything!” Brendon wailed.

Spencer thought this was a slightly dramatic response, but decided to let it slide. Spencer assumed Brendon was having a mood swing. He had heard it was part of the picture.

“You want to talk about it?” Spencer asked and gave Brendon’s shoulder a squeeze.

Brendon sobbed even more, but straightened up a little. He was definitely showing by now in the way that, if you looked closely, you could tell it wasn’t just some extra weight, but being very much knocked up. Brendon sniffled a little and wiped his nose.

“I went to buy some ice cream earlier,” he began and Spencer nodded understandingly. “I really wanted some ice cream…and the girl behind the counter was really cute and I…I flirted a little bit, you know? And she looked at me like I was this disgusting, ugly, hideous thing!” he finished and burst into tears again.

There was something hilarious and heartbreaking about the thought of a pregnant Brendon trying to chat up a girl, but Spencer bit his tongue. “Come on, Bren, you’re really beautiful,” Spencer assured him.

“I’m fat!” Brendon cried.

“No, you’re pregnant,” Spencer corrected him, “And I mean, she obviously didn’t know that, did she? And I know it’s a cliché, but you’re glowing, you really are.”

“I’m going to end up alone and fat!” Brendon insisted, “How can I date after I’ve had the kid? Who would want to date a single dad? I’ll be all alone!”

Brendon started crying harder than ever, and he was genuinely upset. Spencer wrapped his arm around Brendon and Brendon snuggled to his side, although he kept crying.

“Firstly, you’re the singer of a famous band. You can always get a date, and, you know, when you’ve got a date you can get a babysitter. And secondly, you are not alone. You’ve got Jon, Ryan and me,” Spencer soothed him. “We’re all in this together.”

“I’m fucking alone!” Brendon insisted. “Ryan and Jon just fight over who’s the dad! And you hate me and the baby, because you don’t want to be the dad!”

Spencer suddenly felt incredibly guilty over his past behaviour. “Oh god, Bren, I don’t hate you or the baby, I could never hate him, or her, or,” he began and just sighed. He pressed a kiss on top of Brendon’s head. “I’m sorry I’ve been an ass, but I just…I don’t think I’m ready to have a kid.”

“And you think I am?” Brendon asked, still crying, but a bit less now. “What if you’re the dad?” Brendon asked, “What are we going to do, Spence? You and me as parents?”

Spencer had never even thought of it with that much detail. Now he did: he envisioned Brendon and him bringing back the baby from the hospital. And the baby would be crying and they’d be looking at the small, pink thing, trying to figure out what the fuck they should do. And Spencer started laughing.

Brendon blinked in confusion and Spencer just laughed. “Oh god, we’d be…we’d be disastrous parents,” he told Brendon. “We’d really fuck up the kid for good.”

Brendon’s frown turned slowly into a grin. “We would, wouldn’t we?”

Spencer nodded and they laughed on the couch. And Brendon wasn’t crying anymore and that was the most important thing.

After a while Spencer placed a kiss on the side of Brendon’s head and grinned. “You should try and ease on flirting with girls for now, though,” Spencer said.

Brendon chuckled and pulled back a little. “Yeah,” he agreed and then looked a bit embarrassed. “I couldn’t help it though…it’s like…lately…I’ve been having these…urges,” he finally admitted and blushed a little.

“Oh,” Spencer replied in realisation. He paused before adding, “I could always help you with that.”

Brendon turned to him with the eyes the size of plates. Spencer shrugged a little and, before he knew it, Brendon was dragging him to his bedroom.

They made love that night. It was Spencer’s first time with a guy, but he didn’t tell Brendon that. Yes, he had slept with Brendon before, but Brendon had been a girl then. And he had had his cock buried in asses before, but those had always been girls. And Spencer thought that the whole thing would have freaked him out, but…it didn’t. At all.

They lay side by side with Spencer behind Brendon. Spencer made sure Brendon was entirely comfortable and was extremely careful. You know, because of the baby and all. It was slow at first, but when Brendon moaned for Spencer to thrust in harder, he did.

Because Brendon had a few months of “urges” piled up, they had three goes. And when they finally settled to sleep, exhausted, sweaty, but feeling content and blown away, Spencer thought Brendon glowed more than ever. Brendon snuggled against Spencer with Spencer’s hand protectively resting on Brendon’s bump.

Just then the baby kicked a little and Spencer froze.

“The baby likes you,” Brendon murmured sleepily.

Spencer stared at Brendon’s stomach in bewilderment and felt movement again. It was the weirdest, coolest thing he had ever experienced.

“Yeah,” Spencer whispered in awe.

And as Spencer fell asleep, with Brendon already asleep in his arms, he couldn’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the kid was his. He was sure they’d make decent parents after all.

* * *

A week after that, Dr. Sanchez disappeared. They went to his house for a normal check up and someone else lived there. The new occupant said something about the police having “finally found and arrested that lunatic with his organ stealing schemes.” At that point, Jon and Brendon quickly pretended they were in the wrong place and left.

This forced Brendon to go an overly-expensive, private clinic, which was actually a nice change, because they had pretty flowers in the halls. And apparently, as their new doctor, Laura Whitstable explained, male pregnancies happened all the time! It was just a very sensitive issue and therefore had little publicity.

It was a good thing they went to a real doctor then. It was a really, really good thing. They did the ultrasound and she looked at the screen and smiled. “Oh, they’re doing just fine!”

“They?” Brendon repeated.

“The twins!” she beamed happily.

That’s when Jon had let go of Brendon’s hand and passed out. Brendon had stared at the monitor in horror.

Twins.

* * *

The nursery in Brendon’s house had been completed in good time. For one kid. Not for two, but for one. Now they needed a second cradle, a second baby car seat, a second everything.

Ryan could hardly believe he was going to have two kids. Jon could barely believe the same thing of himself. The one good thing to come out of their rivalry was, however, that the nursery had been redone to accommodate two babies within three weeks of them finding out of the twins.

“I wonder if they’re identical,” Jon pondered as he rested his hand on Brendon’s bump. Brendon was almost seven months pregnant now, and he felt huge.

“I hope not. Then I’ll get them mixed,” Brendon lamented.

“No, you won’t,” Jon assured him and kissed his nose.

The twins kicked a lot. A lot. They kicked during the day, they kicked during the night. Brendon had a hard time trying to sleep, because it kept waking him up. One thing seemed to make it better and that was the presence of someone else in the bed. Brendon noticed this by a coincidence when Ryan had stayed over after painting the nursery walls well into the night.

Jon wasn’t there, thank god, because Jon was really getting on Ryan’s nerves. And so Ryan had spooned Brendon against him, and the twins had behaved themselves that night. It was like the twins didn’t like Brendon being alone and, therefore, were calmer when Brendon was protectively being held as he slept. This started an unofficial rota within the band as they took turns to crash at Brendon’s and sleep in his bed with him. They all enjoyed it a lot more than they were willing to admit, even when Brendon woke them up by going to the bathroom three times a night. It was worth every second of it.

It was also worth it, because soon enough everyone was chipping in to deal with Brendon’s “urges.” And, unsurprisingly, no one minded doing that either.

Another thing that calmed down the babies was Brendon’s singing. The doctor said that they could hear voices now and Brendon’s voice would be the one thing they’d recognise after birth. Brendon thought it was ridiculously awesome, and began talking to the twins nonstop.

Brendon could be making a sandwich while happily talking, “Never ever buy low fat mayo. Seriously, it’s disgusting stuff. In fact, never buy anything low fat. It’s a scheme, I tell you, and you should listen to your father.”

This encouraged the rest of the guys to start talking to the twins too, but Brendon found it annoying when people stared at his stomach and talked gibberish. It was probably how women felt like when men stared at their breasts.

Sometimes Ryan might be in the middle of a sentence to the twins, and Brendon would turn around and waddle out of the room in protest.

The twins liked it when Brendon sang Frank Sinatra or Panic! At The Disco songs. Spencer concluded that the twins obviously had taste. Ryan said that he’d buy the twins guitars for their third birthday, Spencer insisted on drum kits, Jon called them fools and vouched for basses. Brendon said that they all should shut it, because the twins would be pianists.

In the end, they decided that the twins should be brought up to be multi-instrumentalists.

* * *

Towards the end of Brendon’s pregnancy, the doctor ordered him to bed rest. This was an attempt doomed to fail, but Spencer, Jon and Ryan were determined to make Brendon obey.

As Brendon had no vagina to squeeze the twins through into this world, he was having a C-section. Once the twins were out, the whole womb would be removed, as it was the only remainder of Brendon having been a girl. After that he would be just like any other guy – he would just have an odd scar across his lower abdomen.

His bandmates kept Brendon entertained by discussing baby names. They hadn’t really given it a lot of thought yet and they all sat on Brendon’s bed to discuss the matter.

“Two girls? Two boys? One each?” Spencer wondered.

“I like the name Catherine,” Jon said.

“I like names that run in the family,” Ryan said.

Brendon looked at him. “No way in hell am I naming either one of them George.”

“Piss off,” Ryan muttered and Brendon laughed.

“I like Josephine,” Spencer said, “And Ted.”

“What?” Ryan repeated in horror, “Josephine and Ted? That’s murder! They don’t go together at all!”

“They don’t have to go together,” Spencer argued. “I hate it when people name their kids Tim and Tom or whatever.”

“I like Oliver,” Brendon said.

Jon grimaced, but bit his tongue. “Yeah, Oliver, that’s a good one.”

As long as nothing was being named Boyd or George, Jon was pretty sure he could live with Oliver.

* * *

As Brendon could not have birth naturally, and therefore could not have contractions or any of that, the doctors simply told him that now was the time to get the twins out. There was hours of discussion who should be the one to go with Brendon and hold his hands and see the birth of the twins. Nothing was agreed upon and, in the end, one Pete Wentz was the guy who went and held Brendon’s hand. Pete had randomly been visiting Vegas at the time and, you know, he had nothing better to do.

So Jon, Spencer and Ryan paced around the waiting room, absolutely terrified. It seemed to go on forever, while in reality they only had to wait for two hours. Another guy was in there and, after seeing that the three of them were there together, had asked, “So who’s the father?”

“I am,” all three of them replied. The guy had shut up after that.

Finally Pete had staggered into the waiting room with wide eyes. “That…was the most intense experience of my life,” he told them, looking like he was high on drugs.

“Well?” Ryan yelled in his face.

“Absolutely…insane,” Pete said and stared into the distance unseeingly.

Then Dr. Whitstable had come along, smiling brightly. “Congratulations,” she told the three of them. “Brendon’s had a son and a daughter.”

At that Jon screamed a triumphant “Yes!”, Spencer smiled so wide that all the cancer patients in the building were magically cured, and Ryan began weeping against Dr. Whitstable’s coat.

The three of them were escorted to Brendon’s room where Brendon had been lying in bed, looking terrible in all honesty, but Brendon’s eyes were shining brighter than ever as he had two newborn babies in his arms.

Maybe they all cried a little. Just a little.

Spencer was holding the boy, looking at the pink thing. “He’s got Brendon’s lips,” he said.

“Trust the boy to inherit those,” Jon smirked.

The boy yawned and waved his little fists and Spencer’s heart melted.

Ryan was sitting on the edge of Brendon’s bed with the girl in his arms. “One, two, three, four five,” he counted her fingers, “six, seven, eight, nine, ten. See? Ten fingers. You’re perfect, see that? You’ve got ten fingers,” he cooed, completely lost in his own world.

The three of them had already given their blood samples for paternity tests. The doctor told them that the results would be in within three days. Ryan desperately tried to determine whether the twins looked like him or not, but mostly he thought they looked like Brendon.

Jon was holding the boy and started giggling insanely. “He’s trying to find a nipple!” he laughed as the baby that he held against his chest was opening and closing his mouth in a hungry fashion.

Dr. Whitstable had to force the three father candidates to leave. She insisted that Brendon and the twins needed rest and that they could come back the next day.

When the three came back the first thing in the morning, Brendon’s room got littered with flowers, balloons and stuffed toys.

* * *

The lab results came in on the third day. Brendon was sitting on the bed, already bored of the hospital and eager to go home, but it would be one more day before he and the twins would be discharged. Jon, Ryan and Spencer all had unconsciously dressed up for the occasion and stood like men on death row, waiting with serious expressions.

Brendon had now named the twins. He had decided to do it before they found out who the dad was, because Spencer liked “Ted” and Ryan might go for “George” and Jon had said he thought “Winston” was a rocking name. No way in hell. Brendon had named them, and expected the dad to stick to his decisions. The middle name could still be discussed, though.

The boy had been born first and was therefore a whole minute older than the girl. Brendon had named the boy Daniel, because he liked the name and it sounded the kind of a name that a big brother should have. The girl Brendon had named Fiona, which had made Ryan wrinkle his nose, though Ryan hadn’t said anything. But Fiona looked like a Fiona, and Brendon was happy with that

Dr. Whitstable gave them a smile as she walked in with the test results. She enquired after Brendon’s health and had a look at the twins.

“Wonderful,” she said as she admired the newborns in their squared, transparent hospital cradles by Brendon’s bed.

“So who is it?” Brendon finally asked.

“Oh, but of course,” the doctor smiled and turned back to the men in the room. The tension in the room was palpable as she looked at the results. “It seems that the father of the twins is Candidate B, who is…” she began and scanned the papers, “Jonathan Walker.”

Jon, as he was often reminded afterwards, burst into tears. Spencer, as much as he adored the twins, felt a little relieved. Ryan felt crushed. Jon went and gently picked up Daniel, cooing and sobbing about “daddy’s handsome boy.” He then picked up Fiona and cried some more over “daddy’s little princess.”

Now Ryan might have felt slightly better if he had know then, that, six months down the line, Brendon would turn into a girl again. And when Brendon did, Ryan would lock Brendon into his bedroom to have a variety of adult rated activities with him whilst leaving the condoms in the drawer. Only fifteen months onwards Ryan would be holding his baby daughter for the first time. But as it was, Ryan didn’t know it then.

Spencer, on the other hand, would have castrated Jonathan Walker on the spot, if he had known that two years into the future, Jon would knock him up when Spencer, to his utter horror, turned into a girl. Or maybe Spencer wouldn’t have, if someone had told him of the warmth that would spread in his heart, when his and Jon’s son smiled at him for the very first time.

And Brendon, to be sure, would have laughed himself to death if he had known that he would spend the next twenty years living in Las Vegas’ most expensive neighbourhood, in a gigantic house with three floors, two garages, six cars, five dogs, four cats, three bandmates, raising kids that they would eventually begin to call “the little Panics.” (This name was derived from Jon’s slip of “The little bastards!” when the kids thought it appropriate to paint Jon’s new car.) Brendon would have pissed himself laughing if he had known any of this.

But on that day they mostly watched in bemusement as Jon cried more than they ever had seen him cry. But they didn’t try to tell him not to because Jon was crying out of happiness.

And happiness was a term that each and every one of them would soon fully understand for the first time in their lives.