Back on the bus Ian plops himself down next to Dallon, who's the only safe one here, really, and snuggles into his side.
"Hey, you," Dallon says, and Ian lifts up Dallon's arm and arranges it around his shoulders when Dallon doesn't immediately ascertain the level of cuddling Ian's after, here.
"It's a good thing I swapped with someone who's mostly the same height as me," Ian says. "I don't know if I could handle all this happening and me being like, way taller than everyone else I know."
Dallon pats Ian's hair and hums in agreement. "Great height is a burden not all of us are cut out to bear, this is true."
"Shut up," Ian says, but he's smiling.
"You know what this party needs?" Spencer asks, looking up from his ipod and pulling one earbud out.
"What," Ian prompts when Spencer just lets the question hang. He doesn't point out that it's just three people sitting on couches, hardly anything that can be called a party.
"Stay right here," Spencer says, pointing at Ian and Dallon seriously. "I'll be right back."
It's only a few minutes before Spencer returns with Brendon and Zack in tow, Zack carrying a bong that's realistically the size of a small child. Spencer looks actually triumphant, and Brendon looks a lot less worn out than Ian feels, and Ian thinks that maybe this night could end up not turning out so bad after all.
"We are going to get high," Spencer proclaims unnecessarily, as if Ian and Dallon had been waiting with baited breath for him to unveil his plan since he'd left.
"So, so high," Brendon says. "Fuck, I need this."
Zack sets the bong down in the middle of the floor and like, tests it for balance. "Party safely, dudes."
Ian rolls his eyes. Zack is the biggest dork. They're all ridiculous dorks in this band; Ian is suddenly filled with love for everyone and he hasn't even started smoking yet.
The feeling doesn't dissipate once they've all got a few good hits in their system. "I wonder if smoking up together will make us switch back – do you think Bill and Sisky tried it that time?" "Oh my god we agreed to talk not about body-switching anymore tonight," Brendon groans, at the same time as Dallon laughs and says "Are we talking about the same Bill and Sisky that I'm thinking of?" and Spencer sits bolt upright and says "Fuck, what if it's the opposite, what if it like, cements you into the wrong bodies or something?"
Ian meets Spencer's eyes, aghast, and then somehow the way Spencer's eyebrows are lifted up so far on his face is unspeakably hilarious, and Ian breaks down laughing at them, and the absurdity of this whole ridiculous situation, how does shit like this even happen to them? And Spencer's eyebrows.
The corner of Spencer's mouth twitches and then he's off too, infectious gales of laughter that set Ian off again as soon as he pauses for air, passing the giggles back and forth until Ian's face hurts and his sides ache.
At some point while Ian's eyes are in the process of tearing up Brendon catches sight of Dallon exaggeratedly looking between Spencer and Ian and putting on his best Very Concerned Headtilt and that gets Brendon going to, high little giggles muffled by his hands.
"No but seriously though," Spencer says, once they've all managed to more or less get it together.
Ian's forgotten what they were talking about seriously before and now Spencer's fixing him in this earnest-as-fuck gaze. "Your eyes are way too blue to be allowed," Ian says, hoping this is an appropriately earnest observation.
"Seriously. Ian. What if you never switch back?" Spencer's gripping Ian's arm now, hand warm on Ian's – Brendon's – mindfuck! – bicep through his t-shirt.
"What if?" Ian asks. It seems so abstract now, a mere intellectual knot. They should stay high ALWAYS, and wow, there's one good way to develop a substance abuse problem.
"Well. You would be in the wrong body."
"Mm-hmm." Ian already knows this much.
"And Brendon would be inside that body," Spencer says, nodding over to where Brendon and Dallon are absorbed in a rapt discussion about something on Brendon's DS.
"Uh-huh." Ian knows this too.
"And then I would be – I'm kind of ridiculously attracted to that body, okay, but Brendon's in it. And that would be a little weird for Brendon, probably. And for you. And me."
"Oh," Ian says, and then "Wow. I did not know any of that, at all."
"Sorry?" Spencer says.
"No, it's, um, you should probably know I've had a crush on you since before we even met?"
Spencer doesn't say anything, just blinks slowly, so Ian rushes on.
"It's really stupid, I know, like who even does that, but I'm pretty sure it's for real. Maybe we should make out." Okay, that's definitely one of the worst things Ian's ever suggested.
"That is a great idea," Spencer says slowly, Ian takes it all back, this is the most awesome thing he's ever come up with, even if his head's still reeling like he lost track of the conversation several million turns ago. It'll all make sense tomorrow.
"But what if it doesn't turn you back?" Spencer asks.
"What? Why would you say that?"
"Because then I would never be able to kiss you," Spencer says, sounding utterly mournful.
"You could be kissing me right now," Ian points out.
Spencer eyes him sadly. Seriously, Ian cannot and does not even want to keep up with the turns of this conversation. He wants to go back to the part where Spencer wants his body and isn't opposed to making out on the floor in the back lounge.
"We could at least try? If it's not too weird," Ian amends, glancing across the room to where Brendon's still engrossed in his game, sprawled halfway across Dallon's lap. Somewhere in the back of his mind there's an alarm bell going off, something about Brendon-and-Spencer, but he ignores it.
"Weird, but I think I can handle it," Spencer says, looking grave and mischievous and like he really wants to kiss the hell out of Ian right now. "Cross your fingers."
Fuck, he really does think this might switch them back. Ian crosses his fingers and tilts his head up and Spencer scoots over into his space, adjusts his hold on Ian's arm, and slides his mouth over Ian's parted lips. His eyes are closed, but Ian tries to keep his own open even when Spencer licks over his lower lip, his mouth so soft and warm that Ian just wants to melt into the sensation, leaning into Spencer's chest, but the angle is all wrong. He keeps his palms firmly planted on the carpet instead, carefully taking in details like eyelashes and freckles and the way Spencer sighs when he pulls away.
"C'mon," Ian says, following Spencer back. "Not yet, we gotta make sure."
"Okay," Spencer huffs out a laugh and smiles against Ian's mouth when Ian crowds him against the couch behind them, sliding his fingers into Spencer's hair and taking a self-indulgent moment to rub his face against Spencer's beard. Hell, this whole thing is self-indulgent as fuck, but Ian honestly doesn't care.
They make out lazily against the couch for a slippery, indefinite amount of time, hands staying chastely around shoulder level by unspoken agreement. Spencer's thumb drags across Ian's collarbone where the neck of his t-shirt has slipped down, and Ian whines softly into Spencer's mouth, thrown out of the mood.
"Do that again," he says.
Spencer complies, with a questioning hum. "S'too weird," Ian says, shrugging Spencer's hand off.
"What is?" Spencer doesn't let Ian pull away, just tugs him down and tucks his chin over the top of Ian's head, enclosing him in a circle of stubbly Spencer-smelling warmth.
Ian sighs and cuddles in. "That thing you did – that usually feels really good, on me, but this time it was just...nothing. I dunno. This is probably pretty weird for you, too."
Spencer's chest flexes as he shrugs. "I can't say I've gone through life without ever kissing Brendon, and this just now was not much like that. As long as I kept my eyes shut."
"Oh," Ian says, and then "Oh," as it hits him that what Spencer just said isn't the way people usually talk about their boyfriends.
"We should get you to bed," Spencer says, and Ian can hear the smile in his voice.
"Bed's good," Ian agrees sleepily as he lets Spencer untangle them and help him to his feet. "Maybe it'll change me back."
–
Sleeping does not switch Brendon and Ian back.
Zack calls Pete and Pete calls Gabe, who apparently knows everything there is to know about body swapping because he does this as a recreational activity, what the fuck, and Gabe agrees to fly down overnight and sort them out first thing the next morning and then all there is to do is wait.
They don't have a show that day, and Ian thinks he might go mad waiting through all that dead time, because Spencer keeps looking at him. Knowing that Spencer probably definitely wants to make out with him and is just waiting until he's inhabiting the right body is the worst kind of torture, because there's nothing Ian can do about it and he's 90% convinced that Spencer just decided to be attracted to him to screw him up, no matter how little actual sense that makes.
After an uncomfortably tense group lunch at an unremarkable diner, Ian and Brendon decide it's better for both of them if they stay out of public and away from each other until it's time to switch back. Ian's started getting an involuntary little twitch every time he looks over and sees his own face not attached to him, and while Brendon seems better adjusted to the whole out-of-body thing (Ian totally caught him checking out his own ass on three separate occasions), he still winces in sympathy every time he sees Ian twitch.
"You guys are heading into basket case territory," Zack informs them after he gets off the phone with Gabe. "You gotta figure out a way to keep it together for one more day, alright?"
Brendon goes directly to his bunk as soon as they get back to the bus, and once again Ian finds himself bitterly envious of those with the power to take actual naps.
"Want company, or is it better if I stay away for now?" Spencer asks.
"Probably the latter," Ian says, "But I need company worse, so don't go." No one's ever actually died of sexual tension before, right?
They spend the rest of the afternoon playing Halo in the back lounge with the volume turned up so they don't have to talk, and occasionally Ian's able to forget for whole minutes at a time the warmth radiating from Spencer's body just a foot away on the couch and how he wants to lean into it, and how Spencer probably wants him to.
Somehow the entire afternoon passes this way, and then Dallon, who apparently left at some point, is coming back weighed down with bags of takeout and most importantly, two large bottles of whiskey.
"You are a wonderful, wonderful man who deserves wonderful, wonderful things," Ian informs him, and Dallon laughs and messes up Ian's hair. "Hey!" Ian says, pushing the bangs out of his eyes.
"Just don't try and make out with me, okay?" Dallon winks.
"Ugh, that was totally different, because Spencer –" Ian makes flappy inarticulate hands and Dallon just laughs.
The takeout is delicious and the whiskey gets them drunk and no one makes out with anyone. Ian can feel Spencer's eyes on him all night and it makes him squirm, but not as much as when Spencer finally gets totally wasted and starts looking at Brendon instead, which, okay. Ian understands, he does, it's hard enough to wrap your mind around sober, but it doesn't make his stomach stop clenching up painfully whenever he catches one of those hungry looks directed at Brendon-in-Ian's-body. He ends up going to bed first, head swimming. The sooner this is over, seriously.
–
And then suddenly it is. Zack wakes them up at buttcrack o'clock saying to haul their asses out to the parking lot where Gabe's waiting. Gabe takes seriously one look at them, makes them do a move Ian had previously though only possible for breakdancers involving a lot of stretching and holding hands and being way too upside down for the amount of hungover that Ian is right now. They maintain the tremendously precariously center of gravity for about as long as it takes for all the blood in Ian's body to rush to his head before they both go toppling down, and then when they pick themselves back up suddenly everything's right again.
Ian staggers to his feet, feeling like he's catching his balance for the first time in days, and gingerly brushes gravel out of the scrapes on his own palms. It's seriously the best feeling in the world.
Brendon catches his eye and flashes him a grin and then Dallon and Spencer are whooping and rushing them and everyone's hugging everyone all at once and jumping up and down and it's great, Ian has never felt so awesome in his life.
Then Spencer fights through the tangle of arms to Ian and swoops him up by the waist, spinning him around and nearly taking out both Zack's kneecaps in the process. Ian can't stop laughing and neither can Spencer, and when Spencer sets him down his hands don't leave Ian's waist and Ian's breath catches slightly.
"Hey," he says, still grinning like a doofus.
"Hey hey," Spencer says, smiling back. "So I realize I probably should have said this way earlier, but I've noticed the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention and it's really fucking hot. You should probably know."
Ian's chest is doing stupid fluttery things and he feels his face heating up, so he tugs Spencer down to kiss him before he loses his nerve. Then of course he loses it anyway and laughs right against Spencer's lips, ruining the kiss before it even starts. Ian buries his face against Spencer's neck and just breathes in his smell.
"So it took the threat of me being stuck in Brendon's body forever for you to finally make a move, huh?"
"Well," Spencer says, stepping back so he can look Ian in the eye, "I got a little worried that I was misreading everything, so."
"You are exactly as bad at this as I am," Ian crows delightedly. "And shut up, that's totally a good thing."
"I – okay," Spencer says, grinning and brushing a piece of dry grass off Ian's arm.
They haven't been able to stop touching yet, still too happy-tense to settle but hungry for those little points of contact, and it occurs to Ian that they're out in a relatively public space, in a commuter lot next to the highway, and Gabe and Zack and the rest of their band are right there, probably watching. An appreciative catcall from Dallon confirms this suspicion.
"How about we take this back to the bus?" Ian asks, leaning into Spencer's space on the balls of his feet. "I know of a couch that's pretty empty right now and I believe I owe you a proper makeout."
fanboy!Ian/Spencer with bonus bodyswap! 2/2
"Hey, you," Dallon says, and Ian lifts up Dallon's arm and arranges it around his shoulders when Dallon doesn't immediately ascertain the level of cuddling Ian's after, here.
"It's a good thing I swapped with someone who's mostly the same height as me," Ian says. "I don't know if I could handle all this happening and me being like, way taller than everyone else I know."
Dallon pats Ian's hair and hums in agreement. "Great height is a burden not all of us are cut out to bear, this is true."
"Shut up," Ian says, but he's smiling.
"You know what this party needs?" Spencer asks, looking up from his ipod and pulling one earbud out.
"What," Ian prompts when Spencer just lets the question hang. He doesn't point out that it's just three people sitting on couches, hardly anything that can be called a party.
"Stay right here," Spencer says, pointing at Ian and Dallon seriously. "I'll be right back."
It's only a few minutes before Spencer returns with Brendon and Zack in tow, Zack carrying a bong that's realistically the size of a small child. Spencer looks actually triumphant, and Brendon looks a lot less worn out than Ian feels, and Ian thinks that maybe this night could end up not turning out so bad after all.
"We are going to get high," Spencer proclaims unnecessarily, as if Ian and Dallon had been waiting with baited breath for him to unveil his plan since he'd left.
"So, so high," Brendon says. "Fuck, I need this."
Zack sets the bong down in the middle of the floor and like, tests it for balance. "Party safely, dudes."
Ian rolls his eyes. Zack is the biggest dork. They're all ridiculous dorks in this band; Ian is suddenly filled with love for everyone and he hasn't even started smoking yet.
The feeling doesn't dissipate once they've all got a few good hits in their system. "I wonder if smoking up together will make us switch back – do you think Bill and Sisky tried it that time?"
"Oh my god we agreed to talk not about body-switching anymore tonight," Brendon groans, at the same time as Dallon laughs and says "Are we talking about the same Bill and Sisky that I'm thinking of?" and Spencer sits bolt upright and says "Fuck, what if it's the opposite, what if it like, cements you into the wrong bodies or something?"
Ian meets Spencer's eyes, aghast, and then somehow the way Spencer's eyebrows are lifted up so far on his face is unspeakably hilarious, and Ian breaks down laughing at them, and the absurdity of this whole ridiculous situation, how does shit like this even happen to them? And Spencer's eyebrows.
The corner of Spencer's mouth twitches and then he's off too, infectious gales of laughter that set Ian off again as soon as he pauses for air, passing the giggles back and forth until Ian's face hurts and his sides ache.
At some point while Ian's eyes are in the process of tearing up Brendon catches sight of Dallon exaggeratedly looking between Spencer and Ian and putting on his best Very Concerned Headtilt and that gets Brendon going to, high little giggles muffled by his hands.
"No but seriously though," Spencer says, once they've all managed to more or less get it together.
Ian's forgotten what they were talking about seriously before and now Spencer's fixing him in this earnest-as-fuck gaze. "Your eyes are way too blue to be allowed," Ian says, hoping this is an appropriately earnest observation.
"Seriously. Ian. What if you never switch back?" Spencer's gripping Ian's arm now, hand warm on Ian's – Brendon's – mindfuck! – bicep through his t-shirt.
"What if?" Ian asks. It seems so abstract now, a mere intellectual knot. They should stay high ALWAYS, and wow, there's one good way to develop a substance abuse problem.
"Well. You would be in the wrong body."
"Mm-hmm." Ian already knows this much.
"And Brendon would be inside that body," Spencer says, nodding over to where Brendon and Dallon are absorbed in a rapt discussion about something on Brendon's DS.
"Uh-huh." Ian knows this too.
"And then I would be – I'm kind of ridiculously attracted to that body, okay, but Brendon's in it. And that would be a little weird for Brendon, probably. And for you. And me."
"Oh," Ian says, and then "Wow. I did not know any of that, at all."
"Sorry?" Spencer says.
"No, it's, um, you should probably know I've had a crush on you since before we even met?"
Spencer doesn't say anything, just blinks slowly, so Ian rushes on.
"It's really stupid, I know, like who even does that, but I'm pretty sure it's for real. Maybe we should make out." Okay, that's definitely one of the worst things Ian's ever suggested.
"That is a great idea," Spencer says slowly, Ian takes it all back, this is the most awesome thing he's ever come up with, even if his head's still reeling like he lost track of the conversation several million turns ago. It'll all make sense tomorrow.
"But what if it doesn't turn you back?" Spencer asks.
"What? Why would you say that?"
"Because then I would never be able to kiss you," Spencer says, sounding utterly mournful.
"You could be kissing me right now," Ian points out.
Spencer eyes him sadly. Seriously, Ian cannot and does not even want to keep up with the turns of this conversation. He wants to go back to the part where Spencer wants his body and isn't opposed to making out on the floor in the back lounge.
"We could at least try? If it's not too weird," Ian amends, glancing across the room to where Brendon's still engrossed in his game, sprawled halfway across Dallon's lap. Somewhere in the back of his mind there's an alarm bell going off, something about Brendon-and-Spencer, but he ignores it.
"Weird, but I think I can handle it," Spencer says, looking grave and mischievous and like he really wants to kiss the hell out of Ian right now. "Cross your fingers."
Fuck, he really does think this might switch them back. Ian crosses his fingers and tilts his head up and Spencer scoots over into his space, adjusts his hold on Ian's arm, and slides his mouth over Ian's parted lips. His eyes are closed, but Ian tries to keep his own open even when Spencer licks over his lower lip, his mouth so soft and warm that Ian just wants to melt into the sensation, leaning into Spencer's chest, but the angle is all wrong. He keeps his palms firmly planted on the carpet instead, carefully taking in details like eyelashes and freckles and the way Spencer sighs when he pulls away.
"C'mon," Ian says, following Spencer back. "Not yet, we gotta make sure."
"Okay," Spencer huffs out a laugh and smiles against Ian's mouth when Ian crowds him against the couch behind them, sliding his fingers into Spencer's hair and taking a self-indulgent moment to rub his face against Spencer's beard. Hell, this whole thing is self-indulgent as fuck, but Ian honestly doesn't care.
They make out lazily against the couch for a slippery, indefinite amount of time, hands staying chastely around shoulder level by unspoken agreement. Spencer's thumb drags across Ian's collarbone where the neck of his t-shirt has slipped down, and Ian whines softly into Spencer's mouth, thrown out of the mood.
"Do that again," he says.
Spencer complies, with a questioning hum.
"S'too weird," Ian says, shrugging Spencer's hand off.
"What is?" Spencer doesn't let Ian pull away, just tugs him down and tucks his chin over the top of Ian's head, enclosing him in a circle of stubbly Spencer-smelling warmth.
Ian sighs and cuddles in. "That thing you did – that usually feels really good, on me, but this time it was just...nothing. I dunno. This is probably pretty weird for you, too."
Spencer's chest flexes as he shrugs. "I can't say I've gone through life without ever kissing Brendon, and this just now was not much like that. As long as I kept my eyes shut."
"Oh," Ian says, and then "Oh," as it hits him that what Spencer just said isn't the way people usually talk about their boyfriends.
"We should get you to bed," Spencer says, and Ian can hear the smile in his voice.
"Bed's good," Ian agrees sleepily as he lets Spencer untangle them and help him to his feet. "Maybe it'll change me back."
–
Sleeping does not switch Brendon and Ian back.
Zack calls Pete and Pete calls Gabe, who apparently knows everything there is to know about body swapping because he does this as a recreational activity, what the fuck, and Gabe agrees to fly down overnight and sort them out first thing the next morning and then all there is to do is wait.
They don't have a show that day, and Ian thinks he might go mad waiting through all that dead time, because Spencer keeps looking at him. Knowing that Spencer probably definitely wants to make out with him and is just waiting until he's inhabiting the right body is the worst kind of torture, because there's nothing Ian can do about it and he's 90% convinced that Spencer just decided to be attracted to him to screw him up, no matter how little actual sense that makes.
After an uncomfortably tense group lunch at an unremarkable diner, Ian and Brendon decide it's better for both of them if they stay out of public and away from each other until it's time to switch back. Ian's started getting an involuntary little twitch every time he looks over and sees his own face not attached to him, and while Brendon seems better adjusted to the whole out-of-body thing (Ian totally caught him checking out his own ass on three separate occasions), he still winces in sympathy every time he sees Ian twitch.
"You guys are heading into basket case territory," Zack informs them after he gets off the phone with Gabe. "You gotta figure out a way to keep it together for one more day, alright?"
Brendon goes directly to his bunk as soon as they get back to the bus, and once again Ian finds himself bitterly envious of those with the power to take actual naps.
"Want company, or is it better if I stay away for now?" Spencer asks.
"Probably the latter," Ian says, "But I need company worse, so don't go." No one's ever actually died of sexual tension before, right?
They spend the rest of the afternoon playing Halo in the back lounge with the volume turned up so they don't have to talk, and occasionally Ian's able to forget for whole minutes at a time the warmth radiating from Spencer's body just a foot away on the couch and how he wants to lean into it, and how Spencer probably wants him to.
Somehow the entire afternoon passes this way, and then Dallon, who apparently left at some point, is coming back weighed down with bags of takeout and most importantly, two large bottles of whiskey.
"You are a wonderful, wonderful man who deserves wonderful, wonderful things," Ian informs him, and Dallon laughs and messes up Ian's hair. "Hey!" Ian says, pushing the bangs out of his eyes.
"Just don't try and make out with me, okay?" Dallon winks.
"Ugh, that was totally different, because Spencer –" Ian makes flappy inarticulate hands and Dallon just laughs.
The takeout is delicious and the whiskey gets them drunk and no one makes out with anyone. Ian can feel Spencer's eyes on him all night and it makes him squirm, but not as much as when Spencer finally gets totally wasted and starts looking at Brendon instead, which, okay. Ian understands, he does, it's hard enough to wrap your mind around sober, but it doesn't make his stomach stop clenching up painfully whenever he catches one of those hungry looks directed at Brendon-in-Ian's-body. He ends up going to bed first, head swimming. The sooner this is over, seriously.
–
And then suddenly it is. Zack wakes them up at buttcrack o'clock saying to haul their asses out to the parking lot where Gabe's waiting. Gabe takes seriously one look at them, makes them do a move Ian had previously though only possible for breakdancers involving a lot of stretching and holding hands and being way too upside down for the amount of hungover that Ian is right now. They maintain the tremendously precariously center of gravity for about as long as it takes for all the blood in Ian's body to rush to his head before they both go toppling down, and then when they pick themselves back up suddenly everything's right again.
Ian staggers to his feet, feeling like he's catching his balance for the first time in days, and gingerly brushes gravel out of the scrapes on his own palms. It's seriously the best feeling in the world.
Brendon catches his eye and flashes him a grin and then Dallon and Spencer are whooping and rushing them and everyone's hugging everyone all at once and jumping up and down and it's great, Ian has never felt so awesome in his life.
Then Spencer fights through the tangle of arms to Ian and swoops him up by the waist, spinning him around and nearly taking out both Zack's kneecaps in the process. Ian can't stop laughing and neither can Spencer, and when Spencer sets him down his hands don't leave Ian's waist and Ian's breath catches slightly.
"Hey," he says, still grinning like a doofus.
"Hey hey," Spencer says, smiling back. "So I realize I probably should have said this way earlier, but I've noticed the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention and it's really fucking hot. You should probably know."
Ian's chest is doing stupid fluttery things and he feels his face heating up, so he tugs Spencer down to kiss him before he loses his nerve. Then of course he loses it anyway and laughs right against Spencer's lips, ruining the kiss before it even starts. Ian buries his face against Spencer's neck and just breathes in his smell.
"So it took the threat of me being stuck in Brendon's body forever for you to finally make a move, huh?"
"Well," Spencer says, stepping back so he can look Ian in the eye, "I got a little worried that I was misreading everything, so."
"You are exactly as bad at this as I am," Ian crows delightedly. "And shut up, that's totally a good thing."
"I – okay," Spencer says, grinning and brushing a piece of dry grass off Ian's arm.
They haven't been able to stop touching yet, still too happy-tense to settle but hungry for those little points of contact, and it occurs to Ian that they're out in a relatively public space, in a commuter lot next to the highway, and Gabe and Zack and the rest of their band are right there, probably watching. An appreciative catcall from Dallon confirms this suspicion.
"How about we take this back to the bus?" Ian asks, leaning into Spencer's space on the balls of his feet. "I know of a couch that's pretty empty right now and I believe I owe you a proper makeout."