Need You Wild 7/12
Link to full header and warnings - Link to part 6
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The door creaks open what feels like hours later, and Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, tensing up when he smells Shane walk in with Jon and Ryan.
"Spencer," Ryan says softly, "we think you should tell Shane why you tried to murder him."
"He didn't try to murder anyone," Brendon snaps, leaning over Spencer's body a little. It's a protective move, a claiming one, and he knows Brendon's still pissed, but Spencer's chest loosens anyway, just a little. "But maybe it's a good idea," Brendon says, his voice lower, softer, just for Spencer.
Spencer nods against Brendon's leg and swallows heavily, pushing himself up out of Brendon's lap until he's sitting up. He throws a quick look at Jon, relieved to see Jon totally intact and smiling at Spencer encouragingly. Shane's looking at him with wide eyes, confused and curious, and Spencer takes a deep breath.
"So I was at this party," Spencer says shakily, "and I heard this noise, and--"
"Spencer's a werewolf," Ryan says, cutting Spencer off.
"Ryan," Jon says.
"He was taking too long." Ryan shrugs. "It's not that complicated."
Shane laughs, high and nervous, and looks around at them, eyes darting. "Look," he says, "whatever, so Spencer's a little intense about Brendon, it's cool. I get it. Things are new."
"No, seriously," Brendon says, settling his hand firm on Spencer's lower back. "Spencer's a werewolf, and when you tucked in my tag he saw you by my neck and flipped out. It's really close the full moon and he hasn't been a werewolf for very long, so it's kind of hard to know how he's going to react to things."
"Look," Shane repeats. "Any other day I would find this all very funny, but please don't fuck with me right now."
"Shane," Spencer says, standing up slowly and reaching down to help Brendon to his feet. "You haven't showered in about three days," he says, sniffing at the air, "you either stole Jon's deodorant or you use the same kind, you definitely stole one of Ryan's lady cigarettes, and you jerked off on the phone last night while talking to Regan about her pedicure."
"I-- what?" Shane sputters.
"I knew you were way too into giving her foot rubs," Brendon says triumphantly.
"No really, what?" Shane asks again, his eyes wide.
"Were-woooooooooooolf," Ryan repeats slowly. "And stay away from my cigarettes, they're imported. From France."
"You buy them in bulk off the internet, Ryan," Brendon says, rolling his eyes.
"I import them," Ryan insists.
"Guys," Shane says, holding his hands out and blinking slowly. "Seriously, if this is a joke, or, like, if you all got really stoned this morning, now is the time to tell me."
"I got really stoned this morning," Jon says. "But also Spencer's an actual werewolf."
"That's--" Shane starts, "I--" he stares at Spencer kind of helplessly before letting out a long breath and dropping his head to his hands, breaking out in high-pitched, only slightly hysterical giggles.
"I thought you were just really weird," Shane says breathlessly, and Spencer blinks, taken aback.
"I'm not weird," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You're a little weird," Brendon says, pressing closer and sliding his hand just under Spencer's shirt, stroking at his skin.
"So, yeah," Spencer says, ignoring Brendon and shuffling his feet. "I'm sorry I tried to kill you."
"Hey, yeah," Shane says slowly. "It, you know. It happens. When you're a werewolf. A werewolf."
Spencer's pretty sure Shane is still in shock, but right now he'll take what he can get.
-
They spend a few long, stressful hours downstairs. Shane wants to watch Lord of the Rings, and Spencer makes it through the first movie and part of the second, sitting curled up in the corner of the love seat feeling nauseous and worried. Shane's been cool about things - really cool about things, actually, but it only makes Spencer feel like an even bigger dick. Shane shouldn't be sitting on the couch laughing and drinking beer while Jon shares his deep thoughts on hobbits. None of them should be, and Spencer knows everyone's acting like things are fine for his benefit, and he knows that he should be grateful, but instead he's just sick.
Brendon's lying against the opposite end of the love seat, and even though his feet are in Spencer's lap, toes tucked between Spencer's thighs, Spencer knows he's still mad. It's almost comforting, in a way, knowing that Brendon's upset, knowing he's not just pretending like this isn't happening, but Spencer can't stand the way he smells, can't stand knowing it's his fault. Spencer makes it until everyone is arriving at Helm's Deep before he just can't take it anymore. He shifts Brendon's feet out of his lap and stands up, mumbling something about being tired. He nearly jogs up the stairs, yanking the door to his room open and stumbling to his bed, sitting down heavily and dropping his head between his knees, breathing in deep. The air smells like Brendon - everything in the room smells like Brendon - and Spencer groans, standing up shakily to throw the window open.
Spencer sticks his head out of the window and takes a few deep, calming breaths. He stands there for a few minutes, just breathing in, trying to ignore the weird itch under his skin. It's this strange pull he feels this close to the moon, like he just wants to rip his clothes off and run through the forest, roll in the dirt and throw his head back and howl. Spencer's honestly considering just finding himself a nice cave somewhere in the forest and spending the rest of his days as a werewolf hermit when he hears Brendon start up the stairs, hears the door creak open and Brendon step into the room.
"Hey," Brendon says softly. He doesn't move from the doorway, doesn't come any closer, and Spencer's throat aches. "Spence, you okay?" Brendon asks, and he's worried, Spencer can hear it in his voice. He's worried and sad and closed off, and Spencer doesn't want to answer, doesn't want to hear whatever Brendon has to say. Brendon isn't leaving, though, and Spencer finally turns around.
"Oh, you know. I've been better," Spencer mumbles, trying to ignore how much he wants to go pull Brendon into his arms, or curl up at his feet until Brendon smells right again. Fuck, Spencer's life is seriously so fucked up.
"Spencer, don't--" Brendon says tersely before taking a deep breath and starting again. "Look, things are going to be hard, yeah, a lot harder than I thought they would be, but we have to talk about this. This can't-- we have to make sure this doesn't happen on the road. What if a fan hugs me, or we have to perform close to the full moon? Shit, Spence, just. I don't know what to do," Brendon finishes quietly, and Spencer wants to run. He wants to jump out the fucking window and just sprint, going as far as he can until he runs out of forest. It's not like it hadn't crossed his mind, the idea that this werewolf thing would eventually be too much for Brendon. But it hurts, like a giant hole in his chest, and Spencer's pretty much frozen in place, staring down at the floor and biting back the hurt noise that wants to rip from his throat at the thought of not being with Brendon anymore.
Brendon just stands there, still and silent for a few minutes before he exhales and says, "Spencer. Spencer," as he starts walking forward slowly. Spencer keeps his head down, looking down at Brendon's feet, smelling the anxiety that's pouring off Brendon in waves. "I'm worried about you."
"I'm sorry," Spencer finally chokes out, looking up at Brendon and feeling that horrible pain in his chest spread. "I'm so sorry. You're right, this is a bad idea, we should-- fuck, Brendon, I can't." Spencer's throat is tight, and he steps back to the window to breathe in the cool air. Brendon's scent is everywhere and Spencer doesn't know if he can do this, if he can even be around Brendon if he's not allowed to be with Brendon.
"Wait, what's a bad idea?" Brendon asks, not waiting for Spencer to answer before he continues. "We just have to figure out a way to make this easier on you around the full moon, okay? It's not going to be easy, but we can do this, we can-- seriously, Spencer. You look like I just killed your puppy."
Spencer laughs, the sound short and rough, but then his brain starts to process the rest of what Brendon said. "We?" he chokes out.
"No, Spencer, I'm going to to make you figure it out all on your own, it's not like we're dating or anything," Brendon mumbles.
"We are?" Spencer says, "We're still, you're not--"
"Oh my god, Spencer," Brendon groans, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up. "Okay, listen, short of you actually killing and eating someone dear to me or, like, cheating on me or something, we're good, okay?" Brendon says, his voice going soft as he finally, finally reaches for Spencer, pulling him close. Spencer clings, sinking against Brendon so heavily that Brendon stumbles back a little. Brendon laughs and strokes at Spencer's back, tilts his head so Spencer can rub his face against Brendon's neck.
"I love you, Spencer," Brendon says after a moment. "I'm not going to stop because shit gets hard, but you've got to trust me on that, okay?"
Spencer pulls back, cupping Brendon's face in his hand and pressing their foreheads together. "Okay," he says, tilting his head and pressing his lips to Brendon's softly, hesitantly. Spencer pulls back, looking at Brendon, questioning, and Brendon just rolls his eyes again, pulling Spencer forward by his hips and holding him there, kissing him slow and deep.
Spencer groans into Brendon's mouth, tilting his head and kissing Brendon back a little desperately. He's fucked things up so much with Shane here, and he knows it, they both know it, but he's just so glad that Brendon isn't dumping him. Spencer feels pathetic but he doesn't even care, letting himself cup Brendon's hips and kiss him harder, dragging his teeth over Brendon's lip. Brendon whines, his hips jerking beneath Spencer's hands, and Spencer breathes in deep, smelling how turned on Brendon is already. Spencer wants to walk them over to the bed, or just back Brendon up into the wall again, but he's still with it enough to know that's probably the last thing they need right now.
"Brendon," Spencer says between kisses, both of them panting a little to catch their breath. The smell of arousal just gets stronger, and Spencer presses his forehead to Brendon's, closing his eyes for a second. "Brendon, we shouldn't. After today, what if-- what if I can't control it?"
"Actually," Brendon says, letting his lips brush against Spencer's as he speaks, "I kind of had an idea about that. I want to try something."
"Try what?" Spencer asks, pushing forward just enough to kiss Brendon quick and fleeting.
"I want to fuck you," Brendon says, giving Spencer a soft kiss of his own. "If you want, I mean. But I think it might help."
Spencer can't actually think of anything he wants more right now. "I-- yes," Spencer says, already feeling hot and overwhelmed just thinking about it. "Yes, yeah, that is an awesome idea," Spencer says, tilting his head so he can reach Brendon's mouth properly. Brendon kisses him deep and dirty, nipping at Spencer's lips and sucking at his tongue, and Spencer groans, pulling Brendon closer and closer until he can feel Brendon's cock, hard in his jeans and pressing against Spencer's hip.
"We should, now, I think," Spencer says, panting against Brendon's mouth. "Now is the best time."
Brendon laughs, stepping back and pulling his shirt over his head, and he swats at Spencer's hands when they immediately go for his skin. Spencer can't help it, though; his fingers are tingling, itching to touch Brendon everywhere. There's so much pale, smooth skin, and all of it is his. Brendon is his, still his, and Spencer wants Brendon to be fucking him pretty much as soon as possible. Spencer fumbles with his own pants, pushing them down along with his underwear and stripping off his shirt in the time it takes Brendon to shove his own pants down.
Brendon looks up and laughs, sudden and bright, smiling widely at Spencer. "Now who's impatient," he says, stepping forward and kissing Spencer again, pulling him close. Spencer groans when Brendon's pressed close, their skin touching from shoulders to knees, Brendon hot and warm and perfect. Brendon smiles against his mouth at the noise and grabs Spencer's ass suddenly, squeezing. "Go get on the bed," Brendon says, his eyes dark, and Spencer practically dives at the bed, settling in against the pillows.
Brendon laughs at him, walking over slowly enough that Spencer's pretty sure it's a deliberate tease before he crawls onto the bed. Spencer spreads his legs, arching his hips up, and Brendon's eyes go comically wide. "Wow," he says. "Wow. You are never allowed to talk about how bad I want it ever again." Brendon runs his hands up and down Spencer's legs.
"That was one time," Spencer says, already kind of breathless. "It was in the heat of the moment." He can't believe how good it feels just to have Brendon touching him. It's like the weird, insistent itch under Spencer's skin focuses under Brendon's fingertips, trailing up and down his legs, his thighs, his hips. He's so busy focusing on Brendon's touch that he's not expecting it when Brendon leans down and sucks Spencer's cock into his mouth.
Spencer wails, his hands clenching in the sheets and his hips stuttering up under Brendon's mouth. Brendon takes it, pulling back a little so Spencer doesn't actually choke him, and Spencer can feel himself shaking, his entire body going taut. "Brendon," he says breathlessly, "Brendon, come on, come on, fuck me," because he feels like he's about to shake apart.
"Spencer," Brendon says, pulling off Spencer's cock with a wet noise that makes Spencer's hips jerk back up. "You don't want me to fuck you dry. Like, ever. We need lube, and unless you've radically changed your views on using actual lube, you need to come. So shut the fuck up and let me suck your dick."
Spencer's brain mostly just registers the part about lube, and he grabs onto his cock, jerking himself rough and fast, gasping when Brendon grabs his wrist, hard, and pulls his hand away. "No," Brendon says, his voice stern. "You are missing the entire point of this. If you can't keep your hands to yourself, hold on to the headboard." Brendon's staring at him, his eyes dark and considering, and Spencer swallows, whining low in his throat before lifting his hands and gripping onto the slats of the headboard.
"Good," Brendon says, stretching forward to kiss Spencer quickly before moving back down. Brendon just stares at him, sits there and watches for a minute, and Spencer doesn't know how much longer he can just lie there, his cock hard and aching and his entire body itching. Brendon stares and stares, and he keeps staring as he brings his hand up and licks over his palm, and he keeps staring as he wraps his hand around Spencer's cock. Brendon jerks him off quick and rough, squeezing around the head, just the way Spencer loves, and Brendon's still staring when Spencer throws his head back and groans low and rough in his throat as he comes.
"Breathe in," Brendon says, and Spencer is breathing in, he can't stop taking great big gasps of air as he shakes from his orgasm. "Spencer," Brendon says, swiping his fingers through the come on Spencer's belly, "calm down. Just breathe." Spencer does, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter and listening to Brendon breathe, trying to match his inhales. It takes him a few seconds, but he does it. He's about to open his eyes, lift his head back up, and that's when Brendon pushes a wet finger into him, firm and fast and all at once, and Spencer's hips jerk forward violently.
"Shh," Brendon says, petting at Spencer's hip with his free hand and then leaving it there, a warm, steady weight that Spencer could easily buck off even without super werewolf strength, but he lets it keep him down. He stills his hips and tries to breathe through the tingling itch that's centering in his stomach as Brendon starts to move his finger in and out in slow, steady drags. Spencer's just starting to get used to the feeling, just starting to relax around Brendon's finger, when Brendon presses in another. It's not a huge difference, and it doesn't even hurt - it just stretches, makes the itch under his skin settle low in Spencer's gut. Brendon twists his fingers a little, pressing in deeper, and a sudden jolt of pleasure makes Spencer's cock jerk where it's resting on his stomach. He clenches down around Brendon's fingers, groaning.
"Brendon, this is-- I didn't know it felt like this," Spencer moans as Brendon's working in a third finger. Brendon freezes before pressing his fingers back in deep, and Spencer looks up to find Brendon staring at him, wide-eyed.
"You've never done this before?" Brendon asks, his voice rough. Spencer tries to push his ass back onto Brendon's fingers, but Brendon pulls back, not letting them sink in too deep yet.
"No, I-- you're--" Spencer's blushing a little, he can tell, and he's vaguely embarrassed, but mostly he just wants Brendon to move already. "C'mon," he says, clenching down around Brendon's fingers and squirming, trying to work himself down.
"Fuck," Brendon says, pushing his fingers back in deep, twisting them a little until Spencer hisses and bucks up again. "Spencer, you--" he says, but he doesn't finish, just leans up awkwardly to get at Spencer's mouth, kissing him deep and frantic while his fingers press deep inside of Spencer's body.
Spencer wants to reach up and grab at Brendon, but he's still holding onto the headboard, so instead he opens his mouth for Brendon, whining into the kiss when Brendon twists his fingers again. He will never tease Brendon for this again, holy shit.
"Shit, shit, Brendon," Spencer pants, straining up underneath Brendon's body after a minute, but Brendon just kisses his jaw and sits back up, settling back down between Spencer's legs. He slides his fingers out with a wet noise and Spencer's seriously about to beg, but then Brendon's pressing them back in fast, deep, and Spencer has to bite his lip to keep from crying out.
"Okay," Spencer gasps out, his hips jerking back with Brendon's fingers. "Okay, seriously, you should fuck me now."
Brendon laughs, but he doesn't slide his fingers out or even stop thrusting them. Spencer shudders, because he's so close, and all this teasing isn't fair. "Yeah, okay, but I want you to come first."
"I-- what?" Spencer grits out, his whole body jerking when Brendon wraps his fist around Spencer's cock, his fingers still pressed deep inside. Spencer thinks if he holds any tighter to the headboard it's going to snap in half. "Brendon, please--"
"Come on, Spence, come for me," Brendon says, and just like that, Spencer stops holding back, letting the heat under his skin spread out all over his body as his hips jerk up and he comes with a groan. "Jesus," Brendon says softly, leaning down and kissing at the head of Spencer's cock, flicking his tongue over it to clean Spencer up. Spencer hisses, sensitive, and Brendon pulls away with a quirked eyebrow. "Yeah, see how that feels?" he asks, grinning.
"What, awesome?" Spencer gasps out, his voice low and broken off. His head is kind of swimming with how intense everything feels, the way his skin feels like it's on fire and he can feel every single callus and ridge on Brendon's fingers where they're still pressed inside. "Now?" he asks, squeezing around Brendon's fingers just in case Brendon doesn't get the hint.
"Yeah," Brendon says gruffly, his eyes dark and heavy on Spencer. "Yeah, now. You need to tell me if it hurts, or you don't like it, or anything, Spence," Brendon says as he places his free hand low on Spencer's belly and pulls his fingers out slowly. Spencer gasps when Brendon's fingers slide out. There's the dragging pull, and then he feels stretched open and empty and it's fucking weird. "Spencer," Brendon says, more sharply this time. "I mean it. Tell me."
"Yes," Spencer says in a rush. "Yeah, I promise, I will, just--"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Brendon says, rolling his eyes and smiling fondly down at Spencer. Spencer closes his eyes and tips his head back, arching his hips up, and he feels Brendon swipe his hand through the fresh come on Spencer's stomach. "Look at me," Brendon says, and Spencer does, lifts his head up and cracks his eyes open, watching as Brendon slicks his cock up with Spencer's come and lifts Spencer's legs. He watches as Brendon lines himself up, watches Brendon watch him as he starts to press inside.
Brendon's cock feels like a lot more than his fingers, which makes sense and all, but Spencer wasn't really expecting it to feel like this. Brendon's thick and hard and pressing inside so slowly that Spencer can't do anything but shut his eyes and just feel it, the way Brendon presses him open, the way it makes him feel big and shaky and overwhelmed. The itch under Spencer's skin is spreading all through his stomach as Brendon's hips meet the back of his thighs, spreading out warm and insistent and aching. "You okay?" Brendon asks, breathing heavily through his nose. Spencer can tell he's holding back, can feel Brendon's thighs shaking against his ass, feel his forearms trembling where they're holding Spencer's legs up.
Spencer tries to answer but just gasps, his mouth hanging open stupidly as he pants for air. "Spence?" Brendon asks again, his voice worried, and Spencer shakes his head frantically.
"Yes," he manages. "Yes yes yes, okay, it's okay, just fuck," Spencer says desperately. He wants to close his eyes again, just lie there and feel it, get used to the way it feels to have Brendon inside of him, the way it makes his whole body go taut and his mind go sharp and focused on the heat spreading through his stomach. It's weird, really fucking weird, how much it seems to be helping, making him focus and taking him out of his head. Brendon's hips stutter forward almost imperceptibly, and Spencer clenches down around him, just a little, just enough to see what it feels like.
"Oh fuck," Brendon gasps, leaning his head to the side to rest on Spencer's knee. "Spence, can I--" Brendon shifts his hips forward instead of finishing his sentence, and Spencer nods, clenching down again and again, just feeling Brendon's cock inside of him before Brendon breaks. "Spencer," Brendon says helplessly as he pulls back a bit and then pushes in deep, as far as he can get. "Spencer, fuck."
Spencer groans, because it feels incredible. It's like his skin is on fire now, almost stinging instead of itching. But it feels so good, feels even better once Brendon starts to really fuck him, pressing in deep on every thrust. "Closer," Spencer says, clenching around Brendon's cock like he can actually pull him forward that way. "Closer, come on," he gasps.
Brendon shifts forward, pressing Spencer's legs closer to his chest, and Spencer cries out when the angle changes and Brendon can get even deeper. Spencer grips the slats so hard he hears one start to creak and protest, but he has to hold on to something. He wants to reach up and grab Brendon's hair, pull him down until Spencer can get at his mouth. He wants to run his hands over Brendon's shoulders, wants to grab his own cock because god, he could come like this so easily.
Now that he's thought about it, he kind of can't stop, wondering what it would feel like to come with Brendon inside of him, if it would make the ache in his spine better or worse. His whole body is screwed up tight, everything focused down to the feeling of Brendon's cock as he pushes in and drags out. It's almost too much, but it's also perfect. It's exactly what Spencer needed even if he didn't know it. Brendon fucking him, Brendon making him come, just Brendon. Spencer doesn't have to worry about staying in control or about anything but the ache in his thighs and the way the hot feeling in his stomach is so intense it's starting to make him shake a little.
"Brendon," Spencer groans, tilting his head back. He wants to reach down and jerk himself off, and he even gets as far as letting go of the headboard, but then Brendon's staring down at Spencer, eyes dark and hot, and Spencer shudders. He grabs the slats above his head again and meets Brendon's eyes, his body still strung up tight as Brendon fucks him.
"Were-- were you just going to try to come again?" Brendon asks, his voice rough. He stops thrusting and presses deep into Spencer, just slowly grinding into him. Spencer whines, everything still tense and hot.
"No."
"Are you sure?" Brendon reaches between them and brushes his fingers over the leaking head of Spencer's cock. Spencer hisses, his hips bucking up underneath Brendon.
"Okay! Okay, maybe. Fuck, Brendon, fuck, I need to. Please, please."
Brendon wraps his hand around Spencer's cock and starts to stroke, his grip slick with pre-come. "Right, but I'm going to pretend it's because I'm amazing in bed and not because you're a hair-trigger werewolf who's never been fucked before."
"Brendon, I can't, just-- please," Spencer groans, thighs shaking and his knees still pushed up to his chest. Brendon pulls back to start thrusting again, snapping his hips forward in short, hard movements, and Spencer can feel the heat spread out like liquid through his whole body when he comes, clenching tightly around Brendon's cock. The headboard creaks again, a little louder and a little more threatening, but Spencer keeps holding tight to it as he comes down from his orgasm, his whole lower body throbbing.
"Oh god, I'm going to die," Brendon moans, letting go of Spencer's cock to squeeze at the base of his own. Spencer can still smell how turned on Brendon is, thick and heavy in the air all around them.
"You're not going to die," Spencer grits out, slowly letting go of the headboard. His fingers are a little cramped up, but he flexes them and reaches up for Brendon anyway, running his hands up over Brendon's arms. He cups the back of Brendon's neck and tugs him down, kissing him hard on the mouth. Brendon opens up immediately, kissing back fast and desperate, and Spencer thinks he can almost taste how close Brendon is, how turned on he is. He drags his teeth over Brendon's lip, and then Brendon's moaning and sitting back up, twisting his hips a little where he's still pressed inside Spencer.
"Is this still okay?" Brendon asks, panting, sweat dripping down his temples, and Spencer nods. He stretches his legs out to brace his feet back on the bed, and Brendon stays snuggled between his hips, thrusting slowly. It feels insane, the way Spencer's whole body is buzzing, oversensitive and full and still itchy for more. He wants Brendon to go hard, to see how fast he can come again, but Brendon's face is scrunched up like holding back is almost painful for him.
"Are you okay?" Spencer asks, hands sliding down to Brendon's hips, and Brendon chokes out a laugh.
"You feel really fucking good, Spence," Brendon groans, dropping his head forward. Brendon's hips are moving in a sloppy, uneven rhythm. He can't seem to decide if he wants to stay in deep and grind or thrust into Spencer hard and fast, and he smells incredible. He's so, so close, his entire body tense and shining with sweat.
"Come on," Spencer says, arching his hips up and clenching down around Brendon. "Brendon, come on, it's okay. I'm good, I promise," Spencer gasps out, reaching out and tugging Brendon down until Brendon collapses onto his chest with a moan that sounds more pained than anything else. "Come on," Spencer repeats desperately, reaching down and grabbing at Brendon's ass, trying to get him deeper.
"Holy fuck," Brendon gasps, his hips slamming forward hard when Spencer spreads his legs and wraps them around Brendon's hips, pressing him even deeper. "Spencer," he groans, his hips snapping forward fast and desperate. "I can't-- I've got to--"
"That's what I'm saying," Spencer groans, straining up until he can get at Brendon's neck. He's tempted to just bury his face there and close his eyes and let the his wolf brain take over, but Brendon is so close his entire body is straining forward toward Spencer, and Spencer's pretty sure it's time to play dirty. He reaches up and kisses at Brendon's ear, sucking on the sensitive skin behind it, licking around the shell of it. Brendon groans, his hips jerking forward helplessly as he grunts, a harsh, ugly sound that only gets more raw when Spencer bites down gently on his ear lobe. Brendon thrusts in deep, his whole body shaking as he comes, and it's-- it's insane, seriously. It feels so much better than Spencer was expecting, hot and wet and so deep inside of him, and Spencer groans just as loud as Brendon, his hands squeezing even harder at Brendon's ass, keeping him close, keeping him there.
"Fuck. Seriously, fuck," Brendon pants into Spencer's shoulder. Spencer rubs slowly over Brendon's lower back, but he makes a whining noise when Brendon starts to pull back, his cock sliding out.
"Hey, wait, c'mon--"
"No. Spence, no, I'll die," Brendon groans, and Spencer knows how sensitive Brendon gets, knows the way he's still clenching down around Brendon just to feel him inside can't be comfortable, but he doesn't want Brendon to pull out. Spencer forces himself to relax, to stop clenching down around Brendon and let Brendon pull out, but he can't help the distressed noise he makes when Brendon's gone. He feels empty, empty and kind of raw, and he pulls Brendon back over his body as soon as Brendon's cock is free.
"Hey," Brendon says, wrapping his arms around Spencer's shoulders and petting at his hair. "Hey, hey, shh," he says, and Spencer wants to but he can't, can't do anything but grab onto Brendon with his arms and his legs and cling. He buries his face in Brendon's neck, breathing in deep and shifting gently against Brendon's stomach at the smell, just enough for his cock to drag against Brendon's stomach. "Oh my god," Brendon says, laughing breathlessly into Spencer's hair. "Spencer, seriously?"
"I can't help it," Spencer whines, trying and failing to still his hips. "Just stay, let's stay like this until you're hard again, come on," he says desperately, kissing at Brendon's ear, rubbing at the small of his back, using every dirty trick he knows.
"Yeah," Brendon says, pulling back, twisting himself out of Spencer's grip. "No."
"No?" Spencer repeats stupidly. "No, no, not no, yes. Yes is the answer," he says, reaching for Brendon helplessly.
"Spencer," Brendon says, his voice fond but stern. "Just hold on," he says, settling between Spencer's knees and brushing his fingers over Spencer's hole, where he's still wet and sensitive. Spencer whines low in his throat and pushes his hips up, pressing against Brendon's fingers.
"Yeah?" Brendon asks.
"Yes," Spencer says vehemently. "Yes, yes, come on."
"Do I even have to remind you that you've already had three orgasms, greedy?" Brendon mutters, but then he places one hand on Spencer's knee and starts to press three fingers inside, where it's still slick with come. Spencer moans and arches his hips instinctively at the pressure inside, full in a different way but still full. It makes the itch under his skin flare back to life, turning into a hot ache low in his gut when Brendon drags his fingers slowly inside of Spencer. Spencer can feel how slick everything is, how easily Brendon's fingers move inside of him, and it's Brendon's come, he's rubbing his fingers through his come inside of Spencer. Spencer can't get enough.
"Just-- harder, please," Spencer begs, and Brendon twists his fingers in roughly, pressing hard in a way that makes Spencer cry out sudden and rough. Brendon leans down and kisses the inside of Spencer's knee, keeping the pressure in that same spot when he works his fingers in and out. Spencer can't quite get over how hot it is, can't wrap his mind around just how good it feels for Brendon to be inside of him, for Brendon to rub his come inside of Spencer. Brendon's his, but it's easy for Spencer to forget that he's Brendon's, too, and he still distantly wishes that Brendon could stay hard, could keep fucking him, but Brendon's fingers still feel amazing. Spencer's still hot and overwhelmed and so fucking close.
"Look at me, Spence," Brendon says, his voice raw and dark. Spencer opens his eyes to see Brendon staring at him, steady and intent, and Spencer's cock twitches, hard on his belly. "Come on, Spencer," Brendon says, hot and urgent. "Can you come now?"
Spencer's flushed and shaking and he feels like he's going to shake apart when he comes seconds later, squeezing desperately around Brendon's fingers. It's only when he lets go of his desperate grip on the sheets that Spencer realizes Brendon didn't even touch his cock, holy shit.
"Holy shit," Brendon says, and Spencer laughs weakly, his cock actually softening a little by the time Brendon pulls his fingers out slowly. He pets over Spencer's hole, his fingers wet and sticky, and Spencer shivers, so sensitive he actually twitches away. "Aha," Brendon says. "It can be tamed."
"Oh god," Spencer groans, rolling his eyes. "You say that every time my cock goes soft, and it's still not funny."
"Says you," Brendon pouts, and Spencer reaches out, flapping his hand around until he finds Brendon's shoulder and pulls him closer. Brendon goes easily, lying half on top of Spencer's chest and tucking his head under Spencer's chin. He goes to rest his hand on Spencer's shoulder and then grimaces a little. "Fuck," he whines, "I don't want to move."
"Not a problem," Spencer says, because he was already considering going for it anyway. He tugs Brendon's hand up and licks over his palm, sucks at his fingers until Brendon's eyes roll back in his head.
"Stop that," Brendon groans after a second, pulling his hand away. "I am way too tired to get it up again."
"Oh, hey," Spencer says, "Really? Because I am totally cool to go again." He's kind of lying; his thighs are burning and he feels open and raw, but in a good way, a way where he wouldn't mind Brendon making it even worse.
"No," Brendon repeats, reaching across Spencer to turn off the lamp and pulling the covers up over them. "It's been a long day, Spencer, and it's time to sleep," he says around a yawn. "Now turn around, and I'll let you be the little spoon."
Spencer grins, leaning down to kiss Brendon softly before he turns around and lets Brendon press up close behind him, wrapping his arm around Spencer's waist and pressing his hand to the middle of Spencer's chest. Spencer not-so-secretly loves being the little spoon sometimes, and it's especially nice now, Brendon solid and warm at his back, his cock soft and a little sticky where it's pressed against Spencer's ass. Brendon falls asleep almost immediately, his hand still pressed warm and reassuring against Spencer's chest. Spencer feels loose and relaxed with Brendon's hand anchoring him, like the itch under his skin that's been bothering him the past few days has finally settled down, just enough for him to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.
-
"So I'm a douchebag," Spencer says when they both walk out of the bathroom, Brendon still toweling his hair dry.
Brendon raises his eyebrows. "Is this about the blow job in the shower? Because you seemed fine with it at the time."
"No, it's--" Spencer turns to the pile of mostly-clean clothes next to his bed, waiting until Brendon's pulled on some underwear to turn back around. "I really need to apologize to Shane. Holy shit, I'm a douchebag."
Brendon laughs, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Spencer's waist from behind, pressing his nose to the back of Spencer's shoulder. "Dude, it's fine. He understands. We all understand, and you're doing a lot better now."
Spencer leans back a little into Brendon, closing his eyes and breathing in the smell of Brendon, fresh and clean and still damp from the shower. "Okay. But I'm still apologizing."
"Yeah, you probably should. Let me get dressed and we can--"
"Um, I was thinking," Spencer interrupts, turning around to drop a quick kiss to Brendon's lips, "that I should do it alone? You're kind of--"
"Supportive?"
"--distracting," Spencer finishes with a shrug.
Brendon squeezes his arms a little tighter around Spencer and says, "No offense, but if I'm distracting you from killing him, that could be a good thing."
"I'm not going to kill him," Spencer groans, rolling his eyes when Brendon squeezes him tighter and kisses the side of his neck in apology. "I just, I'll be able to think clearer if you're not in the room with me."
"Fine," Brendon says, smacking at Spencer's hip as he pulls back and rummages for his pants. "But if you eat Shane and spoil your dinner, you don't get any dessert."
-
Brendon is lurking just down the hall as Spencer stands outside the door to the game room, acting like Spencer can't smell him, but Spencer's heart is pounding nervously and his stomach is twisted up in knots. He's got bigger things to worry about than Brendon playing boy detective. Spencer pushes the door open slowly, and is relieved that Shane's back is to him. He's sitting on the sofa, hunched over his laptop, and Spencer takes a deep, shaky breath before he says, "So."
Spencer winces. That was a horrible opening.
"Dude," Shane says without even looking up. "Dude, so, I was googling werewolves, and I totally get it! It's the lunar cycle, man, it makes you go all crazy, and plus Brendon is like your mate, right? It totally makes sense that you tried to kill me. I'm just glad you didn't pee on me to assert your dominance or whatever."
"I--" Spencer says, his mouth hanging open stupidly. "What?"
Shane turns around on the couch, facing him, his eyes wide and kind of excited, and what? "There is some seriously fascinating stuff about this if you dig deep enough," Shane says, waving Spencer over to the couch. "Did you know that Scandinavian werewolves were supposed to be old women with poison claws? How kick-ass is that? And they could paralyze kids with their eyes. I'm guessing so they could eat them?" Shane asks.
"No," Spencer says. "No, I did not know that."
"I'm thinking about writing a screenplay," Shane says thoughtfully.
"I-- that's cool," Spencer says. "So, I'm sorry."
"Huh?" Shane says. "Oh, dude, I told you, it's cool. I mean it was really weird at the time, but I get it. It's all good. We're fine, and I know you and Brendon made up. We all heard you and Brendon making up."
"Oh," Spencer says slowly. "Oh god."
Shane snickers, and Spencer manages to slip out of the room in time to pretend like he doesn't hear Shane's question about werewolves having bristles beneath their tongues.
"Thank god that one's not true," Brendon says with a shudder when Spencer leans back heavily against the door.
"Oh god," Spencer says, his face still red. "Oh god, just shut up. I don't want to talk to anyone ever again."
"Well that's unfortunate," Brendon says, tugging on Spencer's wrist. "You still need to apologize to Jon, and Ryan so he doesn't feel left out that he's the only one who doesn't get an apology."
"I hate everyone," Spencer groans, letting Brendon drag him down the hall.
-
Hating everyone does not get any easier later that day when Shane emerges from the game room, shifting his camera restlessly in his hands and saying, "Dude. Dude. Have you ever tried to commune with a dog?"
"I-- what?" Spencer asks, his fork halfway to his mouth.
"It's possible you might have a psychic link with dogs now, you should look into that," Shane says. Brendon laughs obnoxiously, spitting milk onto the table.
Spencer shoots him a dirty look as he wipes milk off his arm, and then he takes a deep breath and does a very, very good job of not getting annoyed as Shane runs through a list of the coolest supposed werewolf powers. He almost feels bad at the way Shane's face falls more and more every time Spencer debunks them.
"Well what can you do?" Shane finally asks. "Aside from the usual stuff, I mean, that's boring."
"Is not," Spencer says, a little offended. "There's an entire family of deer right at the edge of the forest right now. I know that. That's cool."
"Eh," Shane shrugs.
"Fine," Spencer says. "Fine, come on. We're going to the bathroom."
"Um, Spencer," Brendon says. "Spencer, that's maybe not the best thing to show him." Brendon's eyes are wide and panicked and Spencer doesn't get what the big deal is until Brendon glances down nervously at Spencer's pants.
"Oh, not that," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "Jesus, Brendon."
"Well! I mean, it is pretty cool."
"You're not going to show me your dick, right?" Shane asks, looking back and forth between them nervously.
"No," Spencer says. "No, I am not. I promise. Now come on."
Shane follows him up the stairs hesitantly, hovering in the doorway and fidgeting with his camera strap while Spencer plucks his electric razor off the charger.
"Oh," Shane says, his voice kind of awed as Spencer shaves a stripe up his cheek. "Weird."
He reaches out to poke at Spencer's face, his mouth dropping open hilariously when the smooth skin Spencer just exposed with his razor starts to sprout back up, the stubble poking up and growing back out.
"Dude," Shane says. "Mind fuck."
"No kidding," Spencer says, shaving another stripe up his cheek just because it is kind of fun, watching it grow back. He blinks when Shane's camera flashes, bright and sudden.
"Come on," he says. "Come on, I have amazing exposure on this thing, let's do a progression shot."
Spencer rolls his eyes, but he picks the razor back up, and waits until Shane fiddles with a few settings and then nods. It's kind of the least of what he owes Shane.
-
Later that night, Ryan steals Spencer's last egg roll right off of his plate and says, "Spencer, did you seriously never think to google werewolves?"
Brendon starts snickering and Spencer grabs Ryan's fortune cookie, dropping it in his lap so Ryan can't steal it back. "Why would I? Who thinks to google werewolves?"
"I would," Jon says.
"It's kind of a logical next step," Shane adds.
"Me too, actually," Brendon mumbles, and Spencer groans.
"Whatever," Spencer says, "I was a little preoccupied with being a werewolf, okay?"
"Well, I'm just saying," Ryan says, making a play for his fortune cookie but mostly ending up groping Spencer, "it's like the first thing I did after we figured out what was going on with you."
"Stop grabbing my dick," Spencer says, swatting Ryan's hand away and tossing his fortune cookie onto the top of the bookshelf that's too high for any of them to reach without assistance.
"Oh, you asshole," Ryan says. "And I googled because I care, Spencer," he says, pouting a little. "Because I'm your best friend."
"You did it to make sure you could still wear your silver jewelry without it accidentally killing Spencer," Brendon says. "You told me."
"Because I care," Ryan repeats, looking back and forth between the rocking chair in the corner and the bookcase.
"No," Jon says when Ryan heads toward the rocking chair. "Absolutely not."
"But my fortune cookie," Ryan says. "Now I'll never know."
"He who chases cookie catches broken neck," Jon says sagely.
"I bet if you tried you could jump up high enough to reach it, Spencer," Ryan says. "I read all about it. On the internet."
"Oh, shut the fuck up," Spencer says. "If you were that concerned with my tragic lack of information, you should have made me a fucking PowerPoint."
Ryan's eyes actually light up, and Spencer groans. "No," Spencer says firmly. "Ryan, no, that wasn't a request."
"Great job," Jon says. "Really, awesome idea, Spencer."
Ryan is kind of obsessed with PowerPoints. It's been a long standing joke, but it always seems far less funny when they actually have to sit through one. The last time Ryan had made one about alpacas while he was high, and it had included an entire slide of the word "alpaca" over and over again in a variety of fonts.
"Actually," Shane says, "that sounds kind of fun. I was looking at this site today, right, about different werewolf myths? And I was thinking of making a short film about the weirdest ones."
"Oh," Ryan says, his fortune cookie apparently forgotten when Shane opens up his laptop. "Oh, your screen is so big."
-
The very first slide of Ryan's PowerPoint features an animated gif of a werewolf howling at the moon and the title, "In Between The Moon and You: An Introduction to Spencer's Changing Body, presented by Ryan Ross."
Spencer walks out right then and there, but according to Brendon, Ryan did some pretty interesting things with paisley overlays.
-
Spencer's been so preoccupied with Shane's visit that when Shane does leave, giving Brendon a quick hug that doesn't even make Spencer want to kill him, it takes a little while to remember just how close it is to the full moon. They have hamburgers for dinner and Spencer eats five and a half before realizing that, holy shit, it's only three days until he changes. Suddenly Spencer isn't as hungry, and Brendon gives him a brief, concerned look when Spencer sets the other half of his hamburger on Brendon's plate.
"Eat," Spencer says, and Brendon rolls his eyes, but he eats it anyway after a quick check to make sure it's not underdone. He softly brushes his ankle against Spencer's under the table.
Spencer takes a deep breath, smelling the outside from where the patio door is standing open and, faintly, the familiar and comforting smell of Brendon right next to him. It calms him down a little, but not enough to stop his brain from anticipating the worst. Spencer's change is still something he only half-understands - he changes and runs away, away from people, running and running until he's tired and his senses are overwhelmed, and then he wakes up naked near wherever he's supposed to be. But what if Spencer tries to stay close to Brendon? What if he hurts Jon and Ryan for being near Brendon, or scares Brendon as a wolf? Spencer doesn't understand it that well, but he does understand that he would never do harm to his mate, as fucked up as it is that his wolf-brain considers Brendon his mate.
"Hey," Brendon says suddenly, licking ketchup off his lip and pulling Spencer from his thoughts. Spencer almost leans forward to help Brendon with his ketchup-lip problem but then Brendon's standing up, heading out toward the patio. "Come on, let's bring in the barbecue stuff."
Spencer's getting better at reading cues, so he gets up from the table to follow Brendon, even when Ryan calls after them, "See, that's how you do subtle!"
Brendon flips Ryan off and shuts the heavy patio door, leaning against the side of the cabin while Spencer opens the grill and pokes at the still-hot coals.
"So, hey, what's up?" Brendon asks after a minute, and Spencer startles and stops focusing on the two deer in the forest behind the cabin, about a hundred yards away.
"I think I should go away when I change," Spencer says, and he clears his throat when his voice comes out quiet. "I think I should be locked up, too. Like a cellar or, I don't know. A vault."
"A vault," Brendon repeats.
"Um. Yes?"
Brendon takes a step forward. "Spence, you know--"
"It's-- we don't know how I'm going to react, Brendon. I don't want to risk this. To risk anyone's life. You saw how things were with Shane. I don't know how much control I have, what I'll do or be able to stop myself from doing..." Spencer trails off, realizing that his voice is raw like he's about to cry, fuck.
"C'mere," Brendon says, reaching out and grabbing Spencer's hands, trying to pull him close. "Spence, where's all this coming from? You've never hurt any of us before. Even back before you had any idea what was going on."
Brendon's hands are warm, his heartbeat steady, and Spencer wants nothing more to lay his head on Brendon's chest right now. "I wasn't with you before, though."
"So that'll... make you want to kill me more?" Brendon asks, brow wrinkled, and Spencer groans.
"Stop-- just stop--"
"Making sense?" Brendon offers, and Spencer finally chokes out a laugh and steps forward, pushing Brendon into the outside wall of the cabin.
"Yeah. Stop making sense, asshole," Spencer says, about to lean down and kiss at the fading bruises on Brendon's collarbone when he realizes that he had a point - a totally valid one - that didn't involve wanting to make out with Brendon until they both fell asleep.
"It's really funny to watch your face when you're thinking hard about something," Brendon says, bringing Spencer out of his thoughts and looping his arms up around Spencer's neck. "Now kiss me to get it out of your system so we can go back inside."
"You're too good to me," Spencer says softly, pressing his mouth to Brendon's, and Brendon squeezes a little at the back of Spencer's neck, kissing him back.
Link to part 8