Fic: Hold Me Down, Pull Me 'Round
Title: Hold Me Down, Pull Me 'Round
Rating: R
Word Count: ~1,800
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer (Panic! at the Disco)
Summary: For this prompt at the Pretend Dating Fest. Title from Lux Lisbon's song "Sunflower".
“Mom, Spence isn’t coming to Vegas with me for Thanksgiving.” Brendon interrupts in a small voice. His mom had been mid-sentence, talking about plans and the kids and all when Brendon, just, couldn’t anymore.
“Of course he is, sweetheart.”
Brendon sighed. Here we go. “Mom, Spence and I, we’re-”
“Brendon, your father and I are trying, and we want to be supportive of you and your lifestyle choices.” Oh great, THAT conversation again. “We’d really appreciate it if you both came home for the holidays. Everyone is very excited to see you and Spencer.”
“Mom, it’s not like that.”
“Well then, what is it like?”
To save himself further trouble, because he’s tired and miserable and can’t right now, Brendon backpedals. “Mom, he has family, too. We’ll try to make it work, okay?’
+++
“So we have a problem.” Brendon says matter-of-factly when Spencer answers his phone with nothing more than a short “Hello.”
“And?”
“I haven’t told my folks we’re not together anymore.”
Brendon can hear Spencer sigh over the phone. “And?”
“And they expect us home for the holidays.” Brendon pauses, hoping Spence will get it.
“Bren, if I have to prompt you one more time I’m hanging up.”
“Can you please come out to Vegas with me for Thanksgiving?” Brendon gets out in a rush, trying to breathe around the tightness in his chest. It had been two weeks since that awful afternoon of silence when Spencer had packed his shit and just left, probably out to Ryan’s place. Two weeks of sitting on his couch in his boxers, drinking too much and eating too little and all around feeling miserable and a tad too sorry for himself.
It sucks hearing Spence’s voice again. “Do I have to stay at the house?”
“Probably.”
Brendon can hear background noises. Spencer sighing, the rustle of paper, Hobo’s dogtags clicking together. “Alright, I’ll go with you. But I’m gonna try to stay with Ginger.” Spencer sounds sure, professional. Maybe Spencer is really over him and Brendon is just a pathetic loser.
Brendon breathes out the breath he was holding. “Thanks, Spence.”
“Yeah,” and Spence hangs up. Maybe he isn’t as over this as he expected.
+++
Spencer is exactly as over it as Brendon had originally thought. He had mistaken Spencer not calling for the rest of his stuff as hurt, originally. He thought that it was the pain keeping him away, and not that Spencer didn’t care. But oh, was he wrong. Now, sitting on an airplane merely inches from him, Brendon is acutely aware of just how much Spencer doesn’t care.
They’re sitting side by side, in economy class, goddammit, and not an inch of them touching. And what’s more, Spencer hasn’t paid him an ounce of attention since they took off.
“You know we’re going to have to pretend we’re still together once we’re there.” Brendon says.
Spencer closes his book slowly. “Once we’re there.” He repeats. Ouch. “Brendon, you should have told them.”
“I know.” Brendon looks down at his hands, picking at his sweatshirt. “I’m sorry.”
+++
Seeing everyone should be awesome. It should be fun and cool and not like this. It hurts, to have to smile and be so close, to share a fucking room, a fucking bed with Spencer. Spencer, who no longer loves him, Brendon reminds himself. Spencer, whose smiles are empty. Well, at least the ones he throws Brendon’s way. Spencer loves his family, all his sisters and brothers and their respective children. That is one thing that’ll probably never change.
“I can sleep on the floor.” Spencer says on the second night. Brendon’s old full size bed is not big enough for the two of them, especially when Brendon spends the entire night terrified of accidentally touching Spencer.
“No, this is my fault. I will take the floor.”
They wind up fighting about it for twenty minutes before they give up and flop onto the bed. Brendon doesn’t sleep again that night.
+++
“This is all your fucking fault,” Spencer hisses at him, careful to not raise his voice and have anyone overhear. “If you hadn’t been such a pussy about telling them, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
Brendon had slipped up, kind of. He’d laughed a little too loud, been a little too bouncy, had kissed Spencer for a little too long. Spencer had tensed under the attention and Mason had noticed, raising questioning eyebrows at Brendon. Even Kara had pulled him aside and asked if everything was “okay.”
“If you were better at acting then everything would have been okay!” Brendon hissed right back. “Better yet, if you hadn’t fucking walked out on me then we wouldn’t even be pretending in the first place!”
“Oh, so now this is entirely my fault? You said some pretty nasty shit, too, Bren.”
Brendon sleeps on the couch that night. When his dad asks, he says “That bed is way too damn small anymore.” Laughing it off until he can escape.
+++
It all comes to a head on Thursday. Since the family is so big, they split up the I’m thankful for’s into two meals, girls at lunch, boys at dinner.
Spence makes his short, but then he’s always been a man of few words.
When it comes to Brendon, he keeps his eyes on his plate the entire time. He goes through the usual list of crap, and when he gets towards the end he says “I’m thankful most of all for Spencer, who’s stuck by me through thick and thin, and is the best bandmate, partner and friend anyone could ever ask for.” A teardrop lands on the edge of his plate, and he pushes it around with a fingertip until the food comes around.
+++
When they get back to Brendon’s bedroom, Spencer grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him against the door. “Did you mean it?”
“Spence?” Brendon says warily. He’s got the patented “Don’t fuck with me” look on.
“Your I’m Thankful For speech, did you mean it?”
“Of course I meant it. Spence, I still love you, okay? I know you were able to cut the strings worry-free, but I- I can’t. It sucks, like this, and I just can’t, Spencer.” Brendon meets his eyes, and Spencer looks like, well, he looks stung. Or surprised, or. something.
They breathe like that for a second, just staring. Brendon can tell Spencer is forming a retort in his head, but all that comes out is a soft “Fuck,” before Spencer hauls Brendon in and kisses him. Brendon clings to him, kissing him back like his life depends on it. If this is the last chance he has before Spencer is gone for good, well Brendon’s not going to waste it.
“Shit, Brendon.” Spencer says when they break, starved for air. “Brendon, me too. I was miserable. I couldn’t- shit,” Brendon’s kissing him again, swallowing his apology with soothing swipes of his tongue.
“Spence, Spencer, I’m so sorry.” Brendon says when they break apart again. “It’s been terrible without you. I’m so sorry I said all those things.”
“No, I should be sorry. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have run from you. I shouldn’t have hid like that. I’m so sorry, Bren,”
It’s fast, and sloppy, and they should probably stop before someone catches them. But this is Brendon’s only chance and he’s grabbing on with both hands. Spencer walks them back to the bed, pulling Brendon into his lap. “Fuck, Brendon, it’s been too long.” Spencer’s warm and familiar, like home. It makes the breath in Brendon’s chest catch.
“This is sick,” Brendon says, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “We’re about to have make-up sex and all I want to do is cry.”
Spencer snorts. “I know, me too.” Spencer has him by the hips, pressing and tugging and Brendon has to think really hard about not making any noise.
“Spence, Spencer,” He pants, pushing against Spencer’s shoulders to get some air. “Maybe we should wait, make up some excuse and get a hotel room or something.”
“I need you,” Spencer says, and it comes out muffled against his skin. When did he get Brendon’s shirt open? “Please, Bren. I need you too much.”
“Okay, okay, but we need to be dead quiet. I’m serious, we’ll be killed.”
“Alright, just, let me” Spencer gets out, snaking his hand between them to loosen Brendon’s belt. Brendon has to relinquish his hold on Spencer so Spencer can get enough room to get his hand into Brendon’s pants and pull him out. Brendon very deliberately holds his breath when Spencer gets a hand around him, working him in those tight little twists that he loves. It’s good, amazing, and Brendon knows it’s going to be over far too soon. But they’ve got time, now.
“Jesus, I’ve missed you so much, Brendon. I’m so sorry.”
Brendon just shakes his head and pulls Spencer in for a kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing all of his noises. Brendon nips at his lips to signal he’s close. Brendon comes, and it’s like all the air’s been kicked out of his chest.
Still shaking from his orgasm, Brendon slithers to the floor and attacks Spencer’s fly with shaking hands. Brendon gets his mouth around Spencer and moans, wanton, until he remembers. Shit. Spencer’s leaking already, and Brendon’s mouth waters. He works quickly, Spencer’s hands guiding him at the back of his neck, gentle and shaking.
“Bren, love you,” is all Spencer whispers before he’s jerking in Brendon’s hand, his mouth flooding. Brendon swallows it all down, waiting until Spencer stops twitching to let him go.
“Brendon,” Spencer says, quiet, voice back to normal. Brendon looks up from where his head is resting on his thigh. “I love you.”
Brendon smiles. “I love you, too.”
Brendon’s still shaky, exhausted, so he lets Spencer manhandle him into pajamas and into the bed. When he’s safely curled around Spencer, sated and truly relaxed for the first time in far too long, he asks “Does this mean you’re coming home?”
Spencer presses a kiss to his forehead. “Of course.” Spencer laughs. “We’re totally getting that hotel room, though.”
End
Rating: R
Word Count: ~1,800
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer (Panic! at the Disco)
Summary: For this prompt at the Pretend Dating Fest. Title from Lux Lisbon's song "Sunflower".
“Mom, Spence isn’t coming to Vegas with me for Thanksgiving.” Brendon interrupts in a small voice. His mom had been mid-sentence, talking about plans and the kids and all when Brendon, just, couldn’t anymore.
“Of course he is, sweetheart.”
Brendon sighed. Here we go. “Mom, Spence and I, we’re-”
“Brendon, your father and I are trying, and we want to be supportive of you and your lifestyle choices.” Oh great, THAT conversation again. “We’d really appreciate it if you both came home for the holidays. Everyone is very excited to see you and Spencer.”
“Mom, it’s not like that.”
“Well then, what is it like?”
To save himself further trouble, because he’s tired and miserable and can’t right now, Brendon backpedals. “Mom, he has family, too. We’ll try to make it work, okay?’
+++
“So we have a problem.” Brendon says matter-of-factly when Spencer answers his phone with nothing more than a short “Hello.”
“And?”
“I haven’t told my folks we’re not together anymore.”
Brendon can hear Spencer sigh over the phone. “And?”
“And they expect us home for the holidays.” Brendon pauses, hoping Spence will get it.
“Bren, if I have to prompt you one more time I’m hanging up.”
“Can you please come out to Vegas with me for Thanksgiving?” Brendon gets out in a rush, trying to breathe around the tightness in his chest. It had been two weeks since that awful afternoon of silence when Spencer had packed his shit and just left, probably out to Ryan’s place. Two weeks of sitting on his couch in his boxers, drinking too much and eating too little and all around feeling miserable and a tad too sorry for himself.
It sucks hearing Spence’s voice again. “Do I have to stay at the house?”
“Probably.”
Brendon can hear background noises. Spencer sighing, the rustle of paper, Hobo’s dogtags clicking together. “Alright, I’ll go with you. But I’m gonna try to stay with Ginger.” Spencer sounds sure, professional. Maybe Spencer is really over him and Brendon is just a pathetic loser.
Brendon breathes out the breath he was holding. “Thanks, Spence.”
“Yeah,” and Spence hangs up. Maybe he isn’t as over this as he expected.
+++
Spencer is exactly as over it as Brendon had originally thought. He had mistaken Spencer not calling for the rest of his stuff as hurt, originally. He thought that it was the pain keeping him away, and not that Spencer didn’t care. But oh, was he wrong. Now, sitting on an airplane merely inches from him, Brendon is acutely aware of just how much Spencer doesn’t care.
They’re sitting side by side, in economy class, goddammit, and not an inch of them touching. And what’s more, Spencer hasn’t paid him an ounce of attention since they took off.
“You know we’re going to have to pretend we’re still together once we’re there.” Brendon says.
Spencer closes his book slowly. “Once we’re there.” He repeats. Ouch. “Brendon, you should have told them.”
“I know.” Brendon looks down at his hands, picking at his sweatshirt. “I’m sorry.”
+++
Seeing everyone should be awesome. It should be fun and cool and not like this. It hurts, to have to smile and be so close, to share a fucking room, a fucking bed with Spencer. Spencer, who no longer loves him, Brendon reminds himself. Spencer, whose smiles are empty. Well, at least the ones he throws Brendon’s way. Spencer loves his family, all his sisters and brothers and their respective children. That is one thing that’ll probably never change.
“I can sleep on the floor.” Spencer says on the second night. Brendon’s old full size bed is not big enough for the two of them, especially when Brendon spends the entire night terrified of accidentally touching Spencer.
“No, this is my fault. I will take the floor.”
They wind up fighting about it for twenty minutes before they give up and flop onto the bed. Brendon doesn’t sleep again that night.
+++
“This is all your fucking fault,” Spencer hisses at him, careful to not raise his voice and have anyone overhear. “If you hadn’t been such a pussy about telling them, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”
Brendon had slipped up, kind of. He’d laughed a little too loud, been a little too bouncy, had kissed Spencer for a little too long. Spencer had tensed under the attention and Mason had noticed, raising questioning eyebrows at Brendon. Even Kara had pulled him aside and asked if everything was “okay.”
“If you were better at acting then everything would have been okay!” Brendon hissed right back. “Better yet, if you hadn’t fucking walked out on me then we wouldn’t even be pretending in the first place!”
“Oh, so now this is entirely my fault? You said some pretty nasty shit, too, Bren.”
Brendon sleeps on the couch that night. When his dad asks, he says “That bed is way too damn small anymore.” Laughing it off until he can escape.
+++
It all comes to a head on Thursday. Since the family is so big, they split up the I’m thankful for’s into two meals, girls at lunch, boys at dinner.
Spence makes his short, but then he’s always been a man of few words.
When it comes to Brendon, he keeps his eyes on his plate the entire time. He goes through the usual list of crap, and when he gets towards the end he says “I’m thankful most of all for Spencer, who’s stuck by me through thick and thin, and is the best bandmate, partner and friend anyone could ever ask for.” A teardrop lands on the edge of his plate, and he pushes it around with a fingertip until the food comes around.
+++
When they get back to Brendon’s bedroom, Spencer grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him against the door. “Did you mean it?”
“Spence?” Brendon says warily. He’s got the patented “Don’t fuck with me” look on.
“Your I’m Thankful For speech, did you mean it?”
“Of course I meant it. Spence, I still love you, okay? I know you were able to cut the strings worry-free, but I- I can’t. It sucks, like this, and I just can’t, Spencer.” Brendon meets his eyes, and Spencer looks like, well, he looks stung. Or surprised, or. something.
They breathe like that for a second, just staring. Brendon can tell Spencer is forming a retort in his head, but all that comes out is a soft “Fuck,” before Spencer hauls Brendon in and kisses him. Brendon clings to him, kissing him back like his life depends on it. If this is the last chance he has before Spencer is gone for good, well Brendon’s not going to waste it.
“Shit, Brendon.” Spencer says when they break, starved for air. “Brendon, me too. I was miserable. I couldn’t- shit,” Brendon’s kissing him again, swallowing his apology with soothing swipes of his tongue.
“Spence, Spencer, I’m so sorry.” Brendon says when they break apart again. “It’s been terrible without you. I’m so sorry I said all those things.”
“No, I should be sorry. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have run from you. I shouldn’t have hid like that. I’m so sorry, Bren,”
It’s fast, and sloppy, and they should probably stop before someone catches them. But this is Brendon’s only chance and he’s grabbing on with both hands. Spencer walks them back to the bed, pulling Brendon into his lap. “Fuck, Brendon, it’s been too long.” Spencer’s warm and familiar, like home. It makes the breath in Brendon’s chest catch.
“This is sick,” Brendon says, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “We’re about to have make-up sex and all I want to do is cry.”
Spencer snorts. “I know, me too.” Spencer has him by the hips, pressing and tugging and Brendon has to think really hard about not making any noise.
“Spence, Spencer,” He pants, pushing against Spencer’s shoulders to get some air. “Maybe we should wait, make up some excuse and get a hotel room or something.”
“I need you,” Spencer says, and it comes out muffled against his skin. When did he get Brendon’s shirt open? “Please, Bren. I need you too much.”
“Okay, okay, but we need to be dead quiet. I’m serious, we’ll be killed.”
“Alright, just, let me” Spencer gets out, snaking his hand between them to loosen Brendon’s belt. Brendon has to relinquish his hold on Spencer so Spencer can get enough room to get his hand into Brendon’s pants and pull him out. Brendon very deliberately holds his breath when Spencer gets a hand around him, working him in those tight little twists that he loves. It’s good, amazing, and Brendon knows it’s going to be over far too soon. But they’ve got time, now.
“Jesus, I’ve missed you so much, Brendon. I’m so sorry.”
Brendon just shakes his head and pulls Spencer in for a kiss, licking into his mouth and swallowing all of his noises. Brendon nips at his lips to signal he’s close. Brendon comes, and it’s like all the air’s been kicked out of his chest.
Still shaking from his orgasm, Brendon slithers to the floor and attacks Spencer’s fly with shaking hands. Brendon gets his mouth around Spencer and moans, wanton, until he remembers. Shit. Spencer’s leaking already, and Brendon’s mouth waters. He works quickly, Spencer’s hands guiding him at the back of his neck, gentle and shaking.
“Bren, love you,” is all Spencer whispers before he’s jerking in Brendon’s hand, his mouth flooding. Brendon swallows it all down, waiting until Spencer stops twitching to let him go.
“Brendon,” Spencer says, quiet, voice back to normal. Brendon looks up from where his head is resting on his thigh. “I love you.”
Brendon smiles. “I love you, too.”
Brendon’s still shaky, exhausted, so he lets Spencer manhandle him into pajamas and into the bed. When he’s safely curled around Spencer, sated and truly relaxed for the first time in far too long, he asks “Does this mean you’re coming home?”
Spencer presses a kiss to his forehead. “Of course.” Spencer laughs. “We’re totally getting that hotel room, though.”
End