|All Things Ordinary
Author: They-Call-Me-Orange PM
Drew and Adam hit the mall. TORRES BROS FLUFF!Rated: Fiction T - English - Family - Drew & Adam T. - Words: 2,342 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 21 - Follows: 5 - Published: 01-18-11 - Status: Complete - id: 6666367
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi.
AN: Hey, all. I wrote a Torres bros. oneshot! Actually, it was going to be a chapter in my story Damage Done but I found it didn't quite fit the tone, so I decided to post it separately. Read it as a completely independent oneshot or a companion piece to Damage Done! Or maybe as something completely different! Choose your choice, kids!
As per usual, I got this one looked over by TwistedRaver and drevil99.
Prepare for brother-fluff!
Adam woke up when a sudden weight was dropped on his body. The bed sank down and he felt a brief, bright flash of terror and struggled against the oppressive mass. A shocked cry escaped his throat as he fought to free his arms but found them tangled in his bedsheets.
Then the sharp smell of body spray hit his nose and his ears registered the familiar sound of Drew's laughter. He took a deep, relieved breath and blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to wake up.
"Ugh, get the hell off me, you goddamn caveman," Adam slurred angrily as Drew's pointy knee jabbed him in the side.
"Hmmm," Drew pulled the covers away and pushed his face obnoxiously close to Adam's. "Make me, little bro."
Adam reacted quickly, placing his hands firmly on Drew's shoulders and shoving upwards. Drew's body bounced comically upward before he caught himself and re-situated himself atop his brother.
"Come on, Adam, you gotta try harder than that," he teased.
Adam growled, bucking his body roughly, knocking Drew off balance just long enough to sneak his arm out from under the cover and to jab his fingers into Drew's side, just under his ribs.
"Aw shit!" Drew barked out a laugh, immediately abandoning his attempt at subduing Adam to slap away the fingers pounding away at his only ticklish spot.
Adam didn't cease, realizing quickly he had the upper hand in the situation. He maneuvered his body between Drew and the wall and kept up the assault.
"Okay, okay, dude. Stop. Stop it, I'm gonna pee," Drew pleaded, his words peppered with childish giggling.
Adam smirked, pressing his back firmly into the wall and bringing his legs up. He put his feet against Drew's back and used the wall for leverage, knocking the stronger boy off the bed.
The resounding thump of Drew's rough landing brought a proud smile to Adam's face but elicited a shrill warning from his mother downstairs.
Drew's head shot up.
"Not fair, dude," he grumbled petulantly. The pitiful wounded look he sported as he covered his ribs with his hands was enough to cause Adam to break out in a fresh fit of laughter.
"Hey," Adam smirked. "You mess with the bull..."
"You get a load of bullshit?" Drew finished sarcastically.
Adam rolled his eyes. "What the hell are you doing waking me up? It's..."
He glanced at the clock.
"Noon on a Saturday?" Drew offered smugly.
"Damn," Adam blinked.
"Yeah," Drew shrugged. "Mom wanted me to get you up. She didn't admit it but she was starting to freak out..."
Adam swallowed, looking away.
They both knew why something as simple as that would freak their mother out.
"But, listen," Drew continued awkwardly, hoping to move past the dark moment, "I need to hit up the mall and mom decided to let me use the car today." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys, dangling them victoriously for Adam to see. "Want to come with?"
Adam blinked. "Wait. You mean she's actually trusting one of us to do something relatively simple and normal without fucking everything up?"
Drew smirked. "Yeah, I know. Shocker."
Adam raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Oh, come on, Adam," Drew groaned. "She's not that bad."
Yeah, Adam thought bitterly. This is you we're talking about.
"Gimme, like, twenty minutes?" He suggested.
"Fine," Drew sighed dramatically. "But, if you are not completely, ass-in-the-car, ready to go in twenty minutes I'm leaving you here."
Adam rolled his eyes, used to his brother's empty threats.
"Yeah, sure, whatever. Get the hell out of my room, I need to get dressed," he said, rising from the bed and pushing Drew towards the door.
"Don't you manhandle me," Drew frowned, digging his heels into the carpet and fighting against Adam's weight pressing him forward.
"Out, Andrew," Adam commanded, fingers brushing teasingly over the Drew's sides. The older boy yelped and trotted out of the room.
"You'll pay for this, sir," Drew promised darkly.
Adam flipped him off and shut the door behind him, locking it.
"You will pay!" Drew shouted.
"Inside voice, Andrew!" his mother called from downstairs.
Adam grinned, shaking his head and set about getting dressed.
"Oh my God, can we please change it now?" Adam begged, pulling his beanie down over his ears.
"Of course not," Drew said firmly, shaking his head.
"This is completely awful," Adam whined. "And it's, like, the third time in a row you've played the same damn song!"
"It gets better every time!"
"It makes me want to kill myself more every time!"
"What the hell are you talking about? 'Crank That' is a modern classic! Soulja Boy is the Bob Dylan of our generation," Drew opined seriously.
Adam's mouth hung open for a minute. "Okay. I know jack-shit about Bob Dylan but I'm pretty sure there are a couple million people who would kick your ass for saying that."
Drew rolled his eyes.
"Could we at least listen to a better version?" Adam pressed, running his fingers along the iPod in his pocket.
"You mean that emo bullshit version you love so much?" Drew asked. "Hell no."
Adam frowned. "I Set My Friends On Fire are not emo, they're-"
"Don't care!" Drew declared, raising a hand off the steering wheel, as if to physically halt Adam's words. "My car, my rules."
"This isn't even your car," Adam sulked quietly.
Drew smirked, turning up the music.
"So, why are we here again?" Adam asked Drew, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from a tall, leggy blonde hovering around a cellphone kiosk.
"We've been here, like, two months, you realize; and we've yet to really hit the mall," Drew pointed out.
Adam shrugged. "So?"
Drew shot him a disappointed look. "Dude. There are always chicks in the mall."
Adam rolled his eyes, "And? Maybe I'm not really looking for 'chicks' right now..."
Drew hesitated, running his tongue across his bottom lip. "There's... also, um, guys at the mall, if you..."
Adam blushed brightly and smacked Drew on the shoulder. "Shut up. I'm not looking for that either."
Drew held up his hands in surrender, "Alright, alright. Just sayin' – you're never gonna get a... date," he smiled, proud of himself, "if you don't put yourself out there."
"And I'm never going to get brutally and horrifically rejected if I don't put myself out there, either," Adam grumbled.
Drew scoffed. "Dude. You're my brother – that fact alone automatically raises your stock-"
"We're not blood-related," Adam reminded him, having long since decided to be contrary; if only for his own amusement.
"Come on – we've lived together long enough, some of my game has got to have rubbed off on you by now," Drew insisted.
Adam shrugged, not really sure how to respond.
"What about that Clare girl?" Drew pressed. "She's the one that's got you ditching me at lunch nowadays, right?"
"I do not ditch you, Andrew," Adam protested weakly.
"Don't change the subject. Come on – she's pretty cute. I mean, B+ face, A+ chest, y'know?"
Adam found himself nodding before he snapped out of it. "Lay off. We're just friends."
"For now. C'mon, if you're into it, I'll help you out."
"What?" Adam shot him an incredulous look.
"Dude, you know for a fact that I am an expert flirt. I can lend you my experience to improve your technique."
"Wow, if you were only half this serious about school..."
"Oh, cut it out with the smartass comments, yeah? C'mon, little bro, run some game on me."
"... do you have any idea how weird this is?"
"Act like I'm a girl you're into. How would you approach me? Go on, start out with-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I am not doing that-"
"Okay. You're nervous. Don't know where to start. I get that. Lemme give you some tips; girls like when you notice details, but they also don't want too many generic compliments. So, while a "you look amazing today" will get you five points, a "that shirt looks great on you, it really brings out your eyes" will get you ten-"
"You have a point system?"
"Also, also – that pick-up artist shit is crap. It only works on drunken club girls and even then – pretty iffy. 'Negging' is bullshit-"
"What the hell is 'negging'?"
"Exactly. That's the attitude you need to take. Anyway-"
Drew kept drilling flirting tips into Adam until they ran across a Cinnabon stand and he lost focus.
"Let's go in there," Drew said, grabbing Adam by the sleeve and pulling him toward the store.
"A&F?" Adam raised his eyebrows. "I thought you said you were here to meet girls, not to shop."
"God, Adam," Drew rolled his eyes. "Multitasking."
"Yeah," Adam said flatly. "Not buying it. You never go shopping without an occasion..."
Drew bit his lip. "There's this girl I know. She's throwing a party tonight..."
"Oh," Adam said. "Cool."
"Did you want to come?" Drew asked nervously. "I didn't say anything before – I mean, it didn't even occur to me. Did-"
"It's cool, it's cool," Adam waved him off. "Parties, y'know. Not really my scene, Drew..."
Drew busied himself, flipping through a rack of sweaters. "Right. Yeah, of course."
"The blue one," Adam pointed out helpfully.
Drew made to grab a sweater.
"No, the other one. The darker one," Adam clarified.
"This one?" Drew held the sweater up against his body.
"Yeah," Adam said, nodding and taking a step back, glancing over his brother with a critical eye. "Looks good. Maybe with those black jeans mom bought you for church."
"I don't like those jeans," Drew complained. "They're kind tight on the legs..."
"If you don't want my advice," Adam held up his hands backing slowly away.
"No, nonono, c'mon. Okay. I trust you," Drew relented, throwing the sweater over his arm. "Come on, let's keep looking around."
Adam nodded, silently falling into step behind Drew and accompanying him around the store.
"I actually got a pretty decent score on my last science test," Drew commented.
"You're welcome," Adam smiled smugly.
"Don't get a big head," Drew started to warn him.
"Oh come on, Andrew, your ass would have been toast if I hadn't forced you to study," Adam interrupted.
"True as that may be... don't be a cock about it. As I was saying, mom was pretty pleased with the test so we've got a sweet budget this trip. If you see anything you want to get..."
"No thanks," Adam said automatically. The clothes were all quite nice and rather flattering...
On male bodies, he thought bitterly.
Truth be told he hadn't felt too bad leaving the house this morning – and he usually liked to be out and about among perfect strangers. He passed pretty well and didn't have to worry too much of their opinions because he'd likely never meet them again. But being in spaces like this; walls adorned with obnoxiously large profiles of obnoxiously handsome men; racks upon racks of nice clothing; the smell of cologne and new fabric hanging in the air. It all left him feeling an awful mixture of self-consciousness and envy.
He felt like all eyes were on him. Like everyone was staring at his chest, and the soft lines of his face, and that they knew and...
"Come on, Adam," Drew whined. "You can't shop at thrift stores forever. It's totally not fair – you're the only one of us that actuallyknows how to pull this shit off and you don't even shop here."
Adam shrugged. "I like the clothes I have."
"Is that why you're always taking shit from my closet?" Drew tested.
"Dude," Drew cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. "We are not leaving the store unless you pick something out."
Adam scoffed. "Yeah right."
"If you don't pick something, I'll pick something for you," he warned, his eyes drifting towards a rack of garishly patterned sweater-vests. "What do you think? The yellow argyle or the, oh, what's this? Snowflakes..."
Adam's eyes widened. "What? No. Okay, come on. Maybe a button-down or something," he relented, wandering across the store.
Drew smirked, following patiently after him.
"Score one for the Drewster."
"I swear to God, if you start calling yourself 'the Drewster' again I'm flat out leaving. I'll take the bus home, Andrew."
AN: It was going to be longer but I couldn't really think of more to do. Also, I got lazy. Writing is hard, y'all. Maybe if everyone decides they love this and can't live without it I'll add some more or something.
In any case: thanks for reading! Review, if you've got the time!