Just close enough to touch | Spencer/Brendon | NC-17 | ~10 500 words | AU |
Just close enough to touch
Spencer/Brendon | NC-17 | ~10500 words | college!au |
Spencer's had a headache for five days now.
This is for chopsticknoodle, for our two-person-fic-exchange-of-creating-more-Spencer/Brendon-awesomeness!
Thank you SO MUCH to theaerosolkid and imogenedisease for betaing this for me! <3
a.
Spencer's had a headache for five days now.
It started sometime before he handed in his paper on the halo effect and organizational citizenship behaviour as ways of explaining inter-rater discrepancy in performance appraisals, lasted through his accounting midterm, and is lingering still as he searches around the apartment for his cue cards to practice his speech for his presentation for his fundamentals of marketing class tomorrow morning.
It's not that it's bad enough to stop him from doing anything; he's still made it to class, still been studying and writing and preparing. It's just that it hurts all the time.
And Ryan keeps making jokes about how if he keeps scowling like that, his face is going to get stuck and then no one'll ever want to have sex with him again.
Ryan's big on the whole experimenting-sexually aspect of university life, which is fine and great for him, but Spencer would like for them to once have a conversation that didn't loop back to the best way to get the hot blonde who works at the library to let Ryan fuck her. It's been six months. If he hasn't come up with a plan by now, it probably means that it's time to move on. Except that Ryan is totally still sleeping with other people, so Spencer isn't able to make that argument very convincingly.
(Ryan's modus operandi is to put on way too much eyeliner, and jeans that are tight enough to dismember a small child, but hang off his skinny hips. Once at the party, he drinks 7-Up and leaves with the hottest chick there.
His mating dance seem to involve making out with a similarly wide-eyed, skinny-hipped boy until the girls cream themselves, leaving Ryan to pick and choose which one he wants to go home with.
Spencer knows about Ryan's routine partly because they usually go to the same parties, and partly because the videos of Ryan and the other boy doing their thing invariably end up on youtube, which is bad enough, without Ryan always sending him the damn links to the stupid things.)
And Spencer wouldn't even mind that so much, were they not roommates, and were it not for the fact that Ryan made way more noise while having sex than any guy should ever make.
Even that would probably be okay. Spencer's iPod turns up loud, and, though Ryan had sex frequently, it's not like he lasts for a very long time.
Except. Except that Ryan was also an insufferably nosy friend who was always trying to fuss with Spencer's love life, or lack thereof, and that, on top of everything else, on top of the headache, was just more than Spencer could take.
And, oh god. It was worth it. For that brief moment just after Spencer's fist struck out, catching Ryan in the jaw, it was worth it.
Afterwards, it wasn't as good. Afterwards, when Ryan crumpled to the floor in a tremendous pile of bony limbs, and then crawled over to the freezer for the bag of frozen peas. And then bitched for three straight hours about how Spencer had broken his jaw. That part sucked.
"If your jaw was broken, I don't think that you would be able to talk so much," Spencer points out when Ryan finally pauses for breath.
"That does it," Ryan says. "I'm pressing charges. You're going to jail for assault."
"They don't send people to jail for hitting someone once," Spencer says.
"Yeah they do!" Ryan insists.
"No. Dude, you have to like. Cause bleeding, at least."
"That's not true. Bruising counts."
"Like- in hockey. It's not a penalty is there isn't blood."
"-- the fuck are you talking about hockey for?" Ryan asks, voice muffled as he shifts the mostly melted bag of peas around.
"And anyway, I don't even think that you're bruised."
"I am," Ryan says.
"Put the peas away and let me see," says Spencer.
"No."
They sit together on the floor in the kitchen.
Finally, Spencer looks at Ryan and says, "I'm sorry I hit you."
Ryan grunts.
"You okay?" Spencer asks.
"You have to buy us a new bag of peas," Ryan says. "This one has turned to mush and we'll never be able to eat it now."
They were never going to eat a bag of peas anyway, but Spencer just nods and says he'll put it on the grocery list.
--
Over breakfast the next morning, Spencer asks, "Are you wearing foundation or something?"
Ryan gives him a look. "No. It's first thing in the morning."
Spencer gives Ryan a look back, because Ryan has totally worn makeup early in the morning before.
Ryan looks down and stirs at his cereal with his spoon.
"Dude, your face didn't bruise, at all," Spencer says.
"Yeah, you totally hit like a girl."
Spencer sighs, loudly, and lifts up his bowl to drink the rest of the milk.
--
b.
The thing that Ryan doesn't consider when he makes fun of Spencer for not having sex, is that a) Spencer has a girlfriend, so he can't be having sex with strangers even if he wanted to and b) he totally does get laid. When he went back home on the Labour Day weekend, for example.
Depending on how cranky Spencer is feeling, there is sometimes also c) it's not like Spencer has much time for sex anyways, and maybe if Ryan stopped dicking around and actually declared a major, he wouldn't either.
--
He thinks point c), but he doesn't bring it up. The last time he had mentioned it Ryan said, "Dude, whatever. I just have to make an appointment sometime. It'll take five minutes."
"And tell them you're majoring in what?"
"Philosophy," Ryan said. "Or English. Just, you know. Humanities. Unless maybe I'll get a B.F.A. in writing."
--
c.
Spencer probably doesn't spend more time studying than the average university student, but it feels like he does. It feels like he spends every waking minute at the library and it's always just a little bit too quiet there. It smells just a little too old or dry or fucking smart or something, and it doesn't matter which floor he goes to, he just can't find a spot that he can bear to sit in for more than about ten minutes.
Spencer wonders if he's losing his mind. It's a bit early in the year for that though, only late October.
Spencer is actually considering pushing the desks in the basement into a new pattern. There aren't that many other people around, it probably wouldn't be all that disruptive. Maybe they would even want to help him.
Spencer runs a hand over his face and decides that he needs to get out of the building.
He packs up his books and wanders around campus trying to figure out where he is supposed to study instead. There are desks in the hallways of some of the buildings, but he thinks that would probably be even worse. They just set up a new Starbucks, so Spencer decides to try that out. Obviously more caffeine will help calm his nerves.
--
Spencer drops his backpack off at one of the tables and goes to stand in line. He's staring through the glass display at the scones, wondering if he's hungry or not, when it's he turn. As he looks up, "Oh, Jon!" he says.
"Hey, Spence. How's it going?"
"Good, fine," Spencer says. "I didn't know that you worked here."
"Dude, there's only been a here for about two weeks," Jon grins.
"I mean more here in a Starbucks, but yeah, fair enough." Spencer looks behind himself to see if he's holding up the lineup. He's not. "Been to any good shows lately?" Jon takes pictures of the local bands for the university newspaper's entertainment section.
Jon chats happily about the shows that he's seen until another customer comes behind Spencer.
"You want some coffee?" Jon asks.
"Yeah," Spencer says. "Maybe a scone."
"These ones are old," Jon says. "Come back tomorrow, I'm doing the opening shift, so I'm baking the new ones. You can have one of my scones."
Spencer laughs. "Alright."
--
When Spencer gets home that night, he changes and goes for a run.
Spencer runs because the pounding of his feet on the pavement is better than the pounding in his head, and because he likes the aching muscles afterwards, the excuse to take long, punishingly hot showers.
And because he was chubby in high school, but he's not now, and it's better this way.
--
d.
Spencer comes back to the Starbucks the next day, after his last class. Ryan was going to meet him sometime later in the afternoon so that they could engage in their bimonthly attempt at grocery shopping. Neither one of them was any better at it than the other, so they always went together.
The Starbucks is packed when Spencer walks through the door. He finds the only free table and lays out his stuff before going to wait in line. When he reaches the cash register, Jon grins and says that he saved Spencer a special scone. He walks into the back kitchen and comes back with a scone in the shape of an 'S'.
"Coffee, too?" Jon asks, after Spencer has stopped laughing and thanking him.
--
Spencer is halfway through a chapter and wondering quite intently if green was really the best color of highlighter to be using, when a guy wearing a lavender hoodie comes to his table and waits until he looks up.
"Hi," the guys says. "There aren't any free tables, and Jon said that he knew you and maybe you wouldn't mind if I sat at your table?"
Spencer looks over at Jon, who gives him a little wave.
"Um, yeah. That's okay," Spencer says.
He pushes his books into a neater pile and the guy sits down across from him.
"I'm Brendon," the guys says.
"Spencer. You know Jon?"
"Yeah," Brendon says. "We took a class together. Um, this one about making soundtracks? Because Jon's in video and I'm in music. We made this awesome short film together."
"You're in music?"
"Yeah." Brendon holds up a pad of paper that's got rows of music staffs. He's got it filled halfway with notes. "We're doing counterpoint right now, in my theory class."
"What'd you play?"
"Piano. What are you taking?"
"Commerce," Spencer says.
Brendon nods. "At least you're going to get a job one day."
That's what people always say when Spencer tells them about his major. He feels a little disappointed. "I guess," he says. "But I like it, too."
"Yeah?" Brendon asks. And then, "Why's that?" in this tone that sounds honestly interested, like Spencer would have something to say that Brendon had actually always wanted to know.
Spencer feels something relax a little bit inside his stomach, like it hasn't since the second week in September.
--
When Ryan comes into the coffee shop and finds Spencer at the table with Brendon, he does this thing where he quirks his eyebrows and kind of-- Maybe it could be called a smirk? Spencer has a moment of panic that maybe this is one of the pretty, scene boys that Ryan's made out with.
Brendon doesn't react at all though.
"You ready to go, Spence?" Ryan asks. "I can come back later."
"No, it's okay," Spencer says. "I'll see you later?" he says to Brendon.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "I come here all the time."
--
Spencer looks back through the window as he and Ryan walk away. Brendon is watching him leave. Spencer gives a little wave.
"So," Ryan says as they walk down the street. "He seemed nice."
"Do you like. Know him?" Spencer asks. "From somewhere?"
"No," Ryan says. "I've never met him before."
"Okay," Spencer says, and the subject is dropped.
--
e.
Spencer has a lot of classes the next day, so he just goes straight home afterwards. The day after that, he heads back to the Starbacks. It's quiet, so he doesn't bother setting his stuff down, just heads straight up to the counter.
"How many hours a week are you working?" he asks Jon.
"Too many," Jon says. "Too many. But, I have this awesome idea for my next video assignment and I have to buy some really expensive lights for it, so, one does what one must for one's art."
Spencer laughs.
"Brendon's over by the window," Jon says as he hands Spencer over his coffee. "You should go say hi."
"Okay." Spencer shrugs.
He walks over to the window, and when Brendon sees him, he grins hugely. "Hey, Spencer," he says. "Want to sit with me?"
There are lots of other tables free, but Spencer sits down anyways.
--
f.
That Friday, the movie theater on campus shows This is Spinal Tap.
Spencer and Ryan are waiting in line to buy tickets when Ryan says, "Hey, look, there's Jon." He waves him over.
Jon walks up to them, with Brendon following behind.
"Ryan and Spencer," Jon says. "What a surprise. This is Brendon," Jon tells Ryan.
Spencer gives Brendon a little wave.
"Brendon dragged me out here tonight. He says that this is his favorite movie."
"Really?" Ryan says. "Spencer says the same."
Ryan's being pretty weird, but not necessarily weirder than usual, so Spencer just lets it go.
They pay for tickets and walk inside the theater.
"I think I'd like some popcorn," Jon says. "Would you like some popcorn, Ryan?"
"In fact I would," Ryan says. "Spence, you and Brendon should go save us seats."
"Um. Okay?" Spencer says.
--
He and Brendon sing the songs together while they watch the movie. As they are walking out of the theater, Spencer says, "Damn, I need to buy that soundtrack already."
"I have it," Brendon says. "You can borrow if if you want."
"Yeah?" Spencer says.
"I live super close to here, want to come get it right now?"
Spencer turns to Ryan, who says, "I think me and Jon'll be fine. Go ahead."
--
Spencer ends up staying at Brendon's until four in the morning, talking.
--
g.
Brendon calls him on Sunday morning. "I hope this's okay," he says. "Jon gave me your number."
"No, it's fine," Spencer says. "What's up?"
"I bought a whole bunch of berries," Brendon says. "But I forgot to eat most of them, so now I'm making smoothies. And I wondered if you wanted to come over and help me finish?"
"Okay," Spencer says. "Right now?"
"If you aren't busy."
--
When Spencer shows up, Brendon is wearing mittens.
"What're those for?" Spencer asks.
"Spencer. The smoothies. My hands are so cold. And I can't feel my cheeks. Do you think I have frostbite on my tongue?" He sticks out his tongue.
"I don't-- Even know what that would look like," Spencer says, peering forward. "Probably not though."
"Thank god you're here," Brendon says.
He pulls Spencer inside. His entire kitchen counter is covered in glasses, some empty, some still full.
"Well, just dig in," Brendon says. "The rest are yours."
"Dude, how much smoothie did you make?"
"Too much," Brendon says, dropping to the floor. "I can feel my insides sloping around. I don't think there's room for my internal organs with all the smoothie. Just. Grab a glass and join me."
Spencer grabs a red one and sits down beside Brendon.
--
h.
Spencer has always had some degree of trouble being friends with other guys, though not for any reason that Spencer's been able to figure out. He and Ryan have known each other since childhood, and they mostly don't have any trouble. As long as neither one of them pay too much attention to what the other says, that is. But, for some reason, most friendships with guys-not-Ryan have had a very short lifespan. Often, the other guy would get a girlfriend, and it's not like Spencer gets jealous or whatever. It's just that it doesn't feel the same anymore, and they drift apart.
It isn't like that with Brendon. Not the 'Brendon not having a girlfriend' part, although Spencer's nearly positive that he doesn't. Just. The awkwardness. It feels natural, him and Brendon. Sort of like with him and Ryan except really. Not. Probably because they haven't know each other forever.
The point is, it works. Ryan doesn't even seem to care that Spencer calls Brendon when he wants to see a movie now, instead of waiting for Ryan to get home.
Ryan will walk through the door and find Spencer getting dressed. He'll just say, "Going out?" like he already knows who Spencer is seeing or something.
Spencer usually just says, "Yup." Then he asks some variation of, "Does this look weird?" Because maybe a blue t-shirt with blue jeans is too much blue?
And then Ryan will try to convince him to just wear some of Ryan's clothes, because Spencer's wardrobe makes him, "look like a scrub."
And sometimes Spencer listens to him, and sometimes he doesn't.
--
i.
The first time Spencer hears Brendon play piano, it's an accident. Brendon had said to meet him by the vending machine in the A-wing of the music building. Spencer has never been there before, and he wanders, lost, down a hallway that has a whole bunch of doors, not like normal classrooms. He looks through the windows and sees that the little rooms are practice rooms. As he continues down the hall, peeking through the windows, he happens to catch sight of Brendon pounding away at a piano, which takes up the entirety of the small room.
Spencer stands on his toes and looks through the window. Brendon is alone and he seems to be concentrating hard. Spencer turns the door handle very slowly and tries to creep silently into the room.
Brendon hears him though, and turns his head around.
"Sorry," Spencer says. "Just keep going."
"Am I late?" Brendon asks. "What time is it?"
"No, I just got lost," Spencer says. "Play."
Brendon turns to the keys and takes off where he stopped. He's got sheets and sheets of music in front of him, photocopied out of the book so that he doesn't have to turn the pages. Brendon plays all the way to the end of the song, and frowns when it's done.
"I'm sorry," Brendon says. "I suck at that one."
Spencer doesn't know what he's talking about, and says as much.
"It doesn't matter," Brendon says. "I just. It's not right. I don't know if I'll have it ready in time."
"You have to perform it?" Spencer asks.
Brendon nods.
"Play me something you like," Spencer says.
Brendon grins and start playing without pulling out any music.
--
Spencer only become aware of how much time has passed when Ryan calls and asks where the fuck he is.
--
j.
"I got a Dear John letter," Spencer tells Brendon. "Except for the part where it was a phone call. And also my name is Spencer."
"Dude, it's their loss," Brendon says. They are lying on the floor of Spencer apartment, attempting to build a log cabin out of toothpicks. Brendon claimed it was good for his manual dexterity.
"I guess. I mean-- she was quite a bit younger," Spencer says.
"You'll be better off without," Brendon pauses. "Her."
Spencer shrugs. "We could get some food now," he says, rolling onto his side. His back cracks loudly. "It's your turn to choose from where."
"I want pizza," Brendon says.
"You always pick pizza," says Spencer. "No olives this time, at least."
"I'll just eat yours. Again."
"Fucking disgusting little black... salty. Things," Spencer grumbles.
Brendon laughs and cuffs him on the side of his head.
--
k.
Spencer often brings his homework into the practice room and works while Brendon practices, especially after his schedule changes in January. It probably isn't as comfortable on the floor as it would be at a desk, but for some reason, it helps Spencer concentrate. Probably the classical music. Maybe it really is good for the brain.
--
One day, Brendon is waiting for Spencer outside in the hallway.
"I get to practice on the grand piano today," he beams. "Wanna come?"
"Yeah," Spencer says. "What do you mean, the grand piano?"
Brendon leads in down the hall into a new wing of the building. He opens up a door, and suddenly they are walking on stage.
"This is the recital hall," Brendon says. "We get to take turns practicing on the big piano."
"Whoa," Spencer says, looking around. He's never been on stage before, and as he looks out over the rows of chairs, the room looks huge. "Are you going to perform here?"
"Yup," Brendon says. "Cool, huh?"
"Yeah."
Brendon walks over to the piano and sits down. "Too bad I still can't play this fucking song though."
"Play it again. I remember the way it sounded on the CD you played for me. I'll tell you if I can hear what's different."
Brendon starts playing.
"You're not quite. It's just. You're rushing on the fast parts, I think," Spencer finally says.
"What?" Brendon asks. He turns to look at Spencer, and Spencer comes to up stand behind him.
"Umm. Just start playing."
Brendon starts the song again.
Spencer steps up close behind him, and when the time signature changes and the pieces moves into the fast section, he reaches out and taps out the beat on Brendon's shoulder.
Brendon freezes for a moment, then tilts his head to the other side, giving Spencer more room. Spencer lets his hand curve around Brendon's shoulder, keeping the rhythm by tapping his thumb against Brendon's bare skin, just past the collar of his t-shirt. As Brendon plays, against his open palm, Spencer can feel Brendon's muscles flexing and rolling with the movement of his arms.
The song changes back into the slow section, and Spencer stills his hand, leaving it where it rests. Brendon's shoulder is warm through the thin layer of his t-shirt, his skin soft where Spencer's thumb lingers.
--
Spencer sits in the audience chairs for the rest of the time Brendon practices, but he doesn't manage to get any homework done.
"Want to come to my place, now?" Brendon asks as he walks down the stairs off the stage.
"Okay," Spencer says.
Brendon doesn't talk much on the walk back to his place, but when Spencer looks over him, he smiles.
--
They get into Brendon's apartment, and Brendon goes into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and Spencer follows him. The space is tiny, hardly room for two people between the fridge and the counters.
Brendon tilts his head back when he drinks. He sets the glass on the counter and wipes his hand across his mouth. He turns toward Spencer, letting his hand fall away, and he's right there, right in front of Spencer, and his mouth and Spencer leans in to kiss him before he can stop himself.
Spencer's never done this before, not ever with guys. He wonders if Brendon has, if Brendon's been with other boys. His hands aren't shaking like Spencer's are, anyway. His hands and his fucking wrists and Spencer's tried not to look, he really has. But now, for this moment, Spencer has this sudden rush of longing hitting him all at once: maybe Brendon will touch him, maybe Brendon will slide his hands up over Spencer's arms and rest them on his shoulders and lean back and let Spencer kiss him deeper.
Spencer is trying not to push. He doesn't want to scare Brendon away, but once he gets that thought into his head, it's all he can do not to press into Brendon and try to just make it happen. Touch me, he thinks. Touch me touch me let me feel you.
Brendon's still kissing him just as softly, just as slowly, but the tip of his tongue comes out to graze over Spencer's lip, and fuck. Spencer surges against him, reaching out to pull him in closer, and please don't stop me, he thinks. Please let me have this, just for a minute. Then I'll leave you alone.
Everywhere Spencer touches, Brendon feels knobby and sharp, and if Spencer could still think, he'd rub his hands over the hollows to see where his fingers fit best. As it is, Spencer just clutches at his back and tries to pull him closer, tries to keep him near.
Brendon is stiff, maybe uncertain, for half a breath and then he just seems to melt in. Spencer holds him tight, and there, Brendon curls one hand around Spencer's neck.
If Brendon doesn't hear the noise that Spencer makes in response, he certainly must feel it, vibrating against where his fingers smooth along Spencer's throat.
Spencer starts to feel panicked. What is he doing? Brendon must be able to tell, because he pulls away and says, "Let's just watch a movie now, okay?"
Spencer nods. Brendon takes him by the hand to the couch and doesn't let go.
--
l.
"What's that?" Spencer asks. He was waiting outside of the library for Brendon, who showed up carrying a strange looking black case.
"An oboe," Brendon says.
"Why do you have an oboe?"
"'Cause we have to learn another instrument. Being well rounded and all that."
"Why'd you pick oboe?" Spencer asks. Those were the ones that looked like a clarinet, right?
"I didn't pick oboe. I mean. Well, I might go with that. I was thinking guitar. You know, like, classical guitar? It's actually pretty cool."
Spencer doesn't actually know, but he nods anyways.
"Or," Brendon continues. "I'm pretty good at the trombone, actually. Maybe that. I was going to just go with cello, but everyone picks cello for their second instrument. So. We'll see, I guess."
"Don't you graduate in like, three months?" Spencer asks.
"Well, yeah," Brendon says.
"So, isn't it a bit late to be deciding?"
"I can play all of them already," Brendon says. "I just have to decide what I want to use for the recital."
"Recital?"
"We have our solo recital, which is basically how they decide if you graduate or not. It's worth. A lot. And then, in larger groups, we have another recital type thing for the second instruments. You just play three or four songs."
"Huh," Spencer says.
"It should be fun, actually," Brendon says. "I love performing."
"Is that what you're going to do?" Spencer asks. "After you're finished."
"Maybe one day," Brendon says. "I got into grad school though. I'm going to get a master's degree first."
"Good for you," Spencer says. "I want to get an MBA, but you can't even apply until you have at least three years of full time work experience."
"Ugh, the real world," Brendon shudders dramatically.
Spencer sighs. "I know. So, um. Ryan's not going to be home tonight. If you. Ah. If you wanted."
Brendon grins.
--
Spencer is too nervous to eat, and as he paces around the apartment he wonders for the six hundredth time what the hell he was doing.
He is thisclose to picking up the phone and telling Brendon not to come after all when there is a knock on the door.
"I came early," Brendon says. "So that you wouldn't have time to get yourself all worked up. But it looks like I was too late."
"Brendon," Spencer says, helplessly. "I don't know-- I haven't-- I mean. I'm not even. Oh fuck."
Brendon smiles at him softly and walks inside. "How about we just play Guitar Hero?"
"Okay," Spencer says. "I can do that."
They play against each other, and Brendon wins again and again.
"I blame the guitar," Spencer says.
"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says. "We can trade if you want."
Spencer pulls the little guitar strap over his head and holds it out to Brendon while he waits for Brendon to do the same. Except that instead of grabbing the guitar away from Brendon, he lets the toy fall onto the floor and pulls Brendon in close, leaning over and kissing him hard.
They fall back onto the couch, Brendon kneeling with over Spencer. Spencer pulls him in close and kisses him until his mouth feels raw, and even then he doesn't want to stop. Spencer doesn't know how long they've been kissing for, but it isn't slow and easy like Spencer used to when he makes out. He's hard and shaking and trying to figure out what he's supposed to do about it when Brendon trails his hand down and cups him through his jeans.
"Can I touch you?" Brendon says.
Spencer arches into him, "Please, please."
Brendon moves above him and manages to get his pants open and pushed part way down his thighs. Brendon kisses him, slick and wet and nasty as he rubs his palm over Spencer's cock, and fuck, his hands.
Spencer opens his mouth wider and cups the back of Brendon's head, rubbing down and over his neck.
Brendon kisses him for a minute longer before pulling away. He bites at Spencer's lip, just quickly and jerks harder at Spencer's cock. Then, Brendon slides to the floor and tugs Spencer's pants the rest of the way off as he goes.
"Spencer," Brendon says clearly. "I'm going to suck your cock now. You have to say if you want me to stop."
Spencer just groans louder and pushes into his hand.
"Oh fuck," he says when Brendon's mouth closes over him. "Oh fuck. Oh. Fuckfuckfuck."
Spencer had been so distracted by Brendon's hands that he forgot about his mouth. But. Fuck. His mouth. Spencer grabs hard at the cushions and moves when Brendon pulls at his thighs until he's sitting up more. Spencer leans back against the couch and parts his legs further so that Brendon can lean in better.
Spencer's gotten head before, but never like this. Never like he couldn't think about anything but the mouth and the fucking tongue licking over him, taking him in deeper. Never like his spine was sizzling and, fuck, he hopes he's not whimpering as loudly as it sounds like he is.
Brendon sucks hard, and Spencer says, urgently, "Brendon, you have to. Fuck, Brendon. I'm--" But Brendon doesn't pull away and Spencer comes in his mouth.
Brendon stays on the floor, rubbing his hands over Spencer's calves gently, until Spencer slumps forward, down onto the floor, and tangles them up together.
"I want to keep you, please," Spencer says, and pecks Brendon on the mouth. He nuzzles against Brendon's neck and enjoys how they are pressed together. He can feel Brendon, hard against his leg, and even though he's still freaking out, just a little bit in one corner of his brain, he pulls away enough so that he can reach his hand into Brendon's pants.
Brendon's cock jumps in his hand. Brendon's flushed and twisting his fingers into the carpet, but still he says, "You don't have to do that."
Spencer kisses him quiet, and pushes his pants down so that when he comes, he doesn't get them dirty.
--
It takes half an hour for Spencer to finish kissing Brendon goodbye, pressed close together against the wall. Spencer's neck feels raw from Brendon's stubble, and he's hard again, rubbing up against Brendon's hip as Brendon pushes back against him.
Spencer finally lets him leave, jerks off in the shower, and is asleep before Ryan gets home.
--
m.
They don't do anything more than kiss the next time they get together. And the time after that. And again a few more times beyond that, until finally Spencer realizes that Brendon is waiting for him to make the first move, and tackles him onto the bed.
--
Spencer's grinding up against Brendon, tugging at his lower lip with his teeth. He's got his hands digging into Brendon's lower back, harder than he would ever let himself grab a girl, but Brendon just rocks against him, just presses closer. Spencer feels raw and desperate already, and they haven't even gotten their pants off yet. He rocks against Brendon's thigh, and would be embarrassed at his lack of control and how badly he fucking needs right now, except that his cock is hard to the point of distraction, and he can't help himself.
He reaches for one of Brendon's hands and presses it against the seam of his jeans, holding it there until Brendon's fingers curl around the outline of his cock. Then he lets go and starts struggling with his button, with the zipper on his fly, because he wants skin on skin contact now and Brendon's hands are so close, and he just needs-- And fuck, Brendon helps him push his boxers away and he's grabbing Spencer's cock.
Spencer doesn't want to be needy like this, doesn't know why he's unravelling at a fucking handjob, but he can't stop little noises from tearing away from his throat, can't stop from clutching at Brendon's back and thrusting up into his hands. His hands, his clever, strong, fucking beautiful hands. One is curled around the base of Spencer's cock, holding him in place, while the other twists up and over the head, and Spencer's leaking, smearing against the palm of his hand, and each downward stroke gets a little easier, gets a little slicker.
Brendon works over him quickly, jerking him hard, just how he likes it, until Spencer's twisting his head from side to side, and coming hard. Brendon's still pulling him through it and Spencer can't breathe, so he hopes that means he isn't moaning out anything embarrassing.
Brendon pulls away and sits back on his heels, giving Spencer space to catch his breath.
Once Spencer can think straight, he sits up and reaches for Brendon, pulling him in close and kissing him softly. As he slips his tongue into Brendon's mouth, he reaches down to tug off his pants, pulls away quickly to remove his t-shirt as well. Brendon helps him, until they are lying naked beside each other. Spencer pushes one leg in between Brendon's thighs and rolls over so he is on top. He's kissing him hard now, rubbing their cocks together, more than half hard again already.
Brendon spreads under him, sliding one heel up the back of Spencer's thigh, and just like that Spencer's aching again, frantic as he bites at Brendon's lip and tries to pull him even closer.
"You could, um. Want to fuck me?" Brendon says. Spencer stills. "Don't freak out," Brendon says.
Spencer lets his head drop down, and rubs down harder against Brendon. "I'm not," he says. "Yes, please."
"Do you have something to make it slippery?" Brendon asks.
Spencer passes him a bottle of lotion before getting up and rummaging around for a condom. He crawls back onto the bed, and rolls the condom on. Brendon grabs his hand and rubs lotion over it before taking his wrist and guiding him gently down.
"Okay?" Brendon asks and instead of answering, Spencer pushes his finger inside. Brendon pulls his legs further apart.
"Should I-- Another?" Spencer asks.
"Yeah," Brendon says. His hips are rocking up against Spencer's hand and he gasps when Spencer pushes another finger inside.
"Are you okay?" Spencer asks.
"Yes," Brendon hisses. "Keep going."
Spencer works his fingers, pulling them apart and open Brendon up, until Brendon is whining in the back of his throat. "Now," he says. "Spence, now."
Spencer pulls his hand away, and Brendon smooths a handful of lotion over Spencer's cock.
Spencer lines himself up. "Okay?" he asks as he pushes forward.
"It's good," Brendon says, voice cracking. He reaches up and grabs onto Spencer shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. "Fuck," he groans into Spencer's mouth. "Will you. Harder?"
Spencer braces himself on his forearm and pushes in faster and faster until Brendon's fingers dig sharply into his shoulder. He kisses Brendon again, licking in deep for a moment before kissing down his neck. He bites just under Brendon's ear, and Brendon jerks his hips up hard. He wraps his feet over Spencer's calves, bracing himself so that he can push up hard to meet Spencer's thrusts, and Spencer groans into his ear.
Brendon feels amazing beneath him, as they move together. Better even than Spencer thought he might, when he let himself think about it, rocking forward into his own hand late at night and aching for more.
Brendon shifts under him, and pulls one of his hands away from Spencer's shoulder to grab his cock. Spencer can feel his knuckles brushing over his stomach, quickly, and when Brendon gasps, "I'm close," Spencer says, "Me too."
Brendon's mouth falls open and he shudders, hips snapping up hard as he comes. Spencer feels it wet against his stomach.
Spencer groans out, "Brendon," and then he's coming as well.
--
n.
Brendon gets sore arms from practicing for a long time, and Spencer gets stiff shoulders from leaning over his books.
Brendon will spread him out on the bed, straddle him and rub out the kinks until Spencer feels like maybe his bones melted into the bed.
Spencer rubs Brendon's fingers, pressing into the hollows of Brendon's wrists until Brendon says that his skin is tingling and kisses Spencer until his mouth is as well.
Spencer knows that he gets the better end of the deal.
--
o.
Spencer wanders around the music building after he gets out of class until he finds the room that Brendon is practicing in. He stand outside the door for a minute, just watching, before he finally opens the door.
Brendon look surprised but happy to see him.
"Hey," he says. "What I supposed to meet you?"
"No," Spencer says. "I just-- No."
Brendon smiles at him, and Spencer swallows hard against the lump that forms in his throat.
"I could probably be done now," Brendon offers. "Do you want to do something?"
Spencer nods.
"You want to get some food or something?"
"Let's just. Can we just go back to your place?" Spencer asks.
"Okay," Brendon says. He collects together all of his music and stuffs it into his case. "I think...yeah. That's it. I'm good to go."
Spencer leaves the room first and waits in the hallway while Brendon turns out the lights and locks the door behind him.
--
Brendon does most of the talking on the way home, which isn't exactly unusual, except that Spencer is having a difficult time following along with what he's saying.
"Are you okay?" Brendon finally asks.
"Yes," Spencer says. Brendon just looks at him until he adds, "I just. Got a bad test mark back. It isn't even anything."
Except that Spencer's been going it over and over and he doesn't know how he did on the latest essay, but unless he really blew that one out of the water, it's going to take a fucking 93.5% on the final to get an A- in the class. Which wouldn't even matter, he doesn't like to fuss about and A-, except that he's definitely looking at a B in his accounting class, and he needs an A- to make up for that if he wants to graduate with distinction.
He tries to explain this to Brendon, and he knows he isn't doing a very good job, but Brendon nods and palms over his shoulder, just once, and Spencer feels better.
--
When they get to Brendon's apartment, he waits until Brendon locks the doors before pulling him close and kissing him hard. Brendon kisses back, and walks them slowly over to his bed.
Spencer lays down on his back and spreads his legs, pulling Brendon down on top of him. He wraps his leg up around Brendon's waist and stops kissing him long enough to say, "I want you to. This. Okay?"
Brendon pulls back further, wrapping his hand around Spencer's thigh before sliding it lower. "Are you sure?" he asks, seriously.
Spencer nods, and when Brendon breaks away to reach into the drawer of the bedside table, he wiggles out of his clothes. When Brendon comes in close again, Spencer tugs at the material of his shirt, of his pants, until Brendon undresses as well.
Brendon kisses him again, before sinking lower on the bed. He licks over Spencer's cock and, looking up to watch Spencer's reactions carefully, he reaches down to rub lower. He rubs the tip of his finger over Spencer's entrance until Spencer pushes back against him and says, "Just do it." Brendon pushes inside, slowly. He's being careful, Spencer knows, but it still feels weird.
Brendon opens his mouth wider, and swallows around Spencer's cock at he pushes a second finger inside. Spencer chokes out a sound without meaning to. Brendon looks up quickly, so Spencer says, "No, just keep. Keep going."
Brendon works his fingers inside until the slide gets easier, until Spencer's panting and pushing back against him. He twists in deeper and Spencer pushes at his shoulder, "You have to. Now. Before I--"
Brendon sucks hard, one last time before pulling his mouth away. He leaves his fingers inside, so Spencer tears open the condom and rolls it on for him.
"Okay?" Brendon asks, and he waits until Spencer says yes before he pulls his fingers away and pushes his cock forward.
Spencer would be embarrassed by how much he wants this, how he's falling apart already to the blunt head of Brendon's cock nudging just inside. He would be embarrassed, if he didn't remember all of the times he's had Brendon panting and writhing beneath him, cursing and pressing back, up, down, trying to get Spencer's cock in a little bit deeper. So, if Brendon could do that, maybe it's okay now, with the little noises Spencer can't stifle, sneaking out with each hitch in his breathing.
Brendon's-- fuck. Brendon's pushing in now, in deeper. And it hurts, the stretch, the give as Brendon works his way inside. The pain is sharp and raw and Spencer has this moment where he's sure that he's going to come, just like that.
Brendon starts fucking him, gentle and smooth until the pleasure is just as sharp as the pain, and Spencer is clutching at Brendon's lower back, trying to pull him in deeper.
Brendon stills under his hands. "You okay?" he asks.
And Spencer isn't. He's not okay. But it's going to be even worse if Brendon stops. He flexes his fingers against Brendon's skin and says, "Just--"
Brendon seems to understand, because he's moving his hips again, mostly just grinding in deep.
Brendon rubs his nose over Spencer's cheek until Spencer rolls his head away from the pillow and looks up at him. He kisses Spencer before puling away a bit so that he can reach Spencer's cock. "It's okay," he says. "I've got you."
He's hardly moving his hips now, just pushing as he works his hand over Spencer's cock.
Spencer grabs his upper arms and holds on tight in case he falls to pieces as his cock jerks and his ass clenches. He feels Brendon everywhere. In that moment, he's everything, Brendon's all he needs, and it's enough.
Brendon's cock is still causing little shocks of pleasure inside of Spencer, and it's maybe too much so soon after orgasm, maybe too much against the ache that's spreading, but somehow, Spencer still wants him.
He looks up at Brendon who is studying him carefully, and says, "It's okay."
Brendon rocks in a little harder, still watching Spencer intently. Spencer's lips fall open, but it's not bad, and he tries to rock up to meet Brendon when he thrusts in again. Spencer thinks he almost has it figured out, the rhythm between them, when Brendon jerks unsteadily a few times and drops his head to groan into Spencer's neck.
Spencer wraps his arms around Brendon's back, and for the first time that night, Brendon feels smaller than him again.
--
p.
It's not that he's avoiding him, but Spencer gets pretty busy at school for the week following that and doesn't have time to see Brendon for a while after that.
--
Eventually, he buys Brendon's favourite kind of ice cream and shows up unannounced at Brendon's apartment. Brendon looks relieved to see him, and maybe a little bit pissed off, but he lets him in all the same.
"If it was too much, you just should have told me," Brendon says as they are rinsing their bowl in the sink.
"I was just busy," Spencer says.
He pushes Brendon into the bedroom, then sucks his cock until it's flushed dark red. He stands, bent over Brendon's bed, with his elbows digging in to the mattress when Brendon fucks him, chanting, "Harder, Brendon. Come on, more," into the sheets.
They shower together, after, and he slicks Brendon up using hair conditioner and fucks him into the tiles, hot water rushing down his back.
--
q.
Spencer sleeps over, just sometimes, and only at Brendon's because Brendon doesn't have a roommate.
--
Spencer dreams that he and Brendon are in the middle of an orchard, full of trees that have just blossomed, and the air around them is thick and sweet with the fluffy, white petals.
They are lying on a thick blanket, and Brendon is moving over him, touching him everywhere, strong fingers through the fabric of Spencer's clothes. Brendon's mouth tastes like apple juice and his tongue feels soft and white like the petals.
Spencer tries to reach out and touch Brendon, to pull his clothes away so they can rub bare skin together, but there is something holding him back, something pinning him to the ground. He tries to ask Brendon what's happening, to ask for help, but Brendon just stares down at him and says, "There's nothing stopping you, Spencer."
--
Spencer wakes up, covered in sweat, heart pounding. And achingly hard. As he adjusts to the darkness, blinking himself awake, he has to forcing himself not to rock up against Brendon. He tries to edge away, feeling suddenly desperate and claustrophobic under Brendon's weight in the dark.
Brendon wakes up and moves his hand slowly over Spencer's chest, where it had been fisted into Spencer's t-shirt. "Wha's wrong," he mumbles.
"Nothing," Spencer whispers. "Go to sleep."
"'d you have a bad dream?" Brendon asks.
"Yeah, I guess," Spencer says. "I just. I'll be back, okay?" He tries to roll off the bed, but Brendon catches him and pulls him back.
"Dude," he says, sounding more and more awake. "Don't be silly, I'll take care of it for you."
Brendon rolls on top of him and pushes his knee between Spencer's legs. Just like that, Spencer feels calm again. Mostly.
He pulls Brendon in closer and whispers, "I want you."
Brendon presses down against him with his whole body and says, "Me too."
--
r.
Spencer and Brendon go to Starbucks. Brendon sets up at a table while Spencer goes to order the drinks.
"Hey Jon," Spencer says.
"You want coffee?" Jon asks.
"Please," Spencer says.
"And what does your gentleman over there want?" Jon asks.
Spencer doesn't know what that's supposed to mean, but he orders Brendon hot chocolate.
--
s.
"So," Brendon says. "The lease on my apartment runs out at the end of May. And I thought that. I wondered if maybe. If you wanted to find a place and live with me."
Spencer blinks hard.
"It could just be for the summer," Brendon rushes on. "I know Ryan's going to be going to school again in the fall, and I don't know if you'll want to live with him again then, or find your own place when you start working or, I don't know, but-- It could just be for the summer if that's what you wanted."
"I don't think I can," Spencer finally says.
"Is it because of Ryan?" Brendon asks.
"It's not. I just mean." Spencer fidgets with the hem of his t-shirt. "I have a plan," he finally says. "Like, of what I want from life. And there is getting married and a wife and babies and the job. And it sounds stupid when I say it out loud," Spencer trails off. "I keep it in a drawer," he mutters. "You can see it if you want."
"You have a life plan, and you keep it in a drawer?" Brendon asks. "And that's why you won't move it with me this summer?"
"Not because of the drawer part," Spencer says. "Just the first bit."
"But what does that have to do with anything?" Brendon asks. "You can move in with me this summer. There will still be lots of time to dump me for your wife later. It isn't-- It's not going to ruin anything."
"I don't think that it would ruin anything," Spencer says. "I'm not explaining this well. But. I wouldn't do that to you. If we moved into together. I mean, I would only do that if I meant it. Does that make sense?"
"About as much as everything else," Brendon says. "But that's not saying a lot."
Spencer rubs over his eyes until he gets white spots in his vision.
"How old were you when you made your plan, Spencer?" Brendon asks.
"Seventeen," says Spencer.
"And it's still the same?"
Spencer shrugs.
"It's just. We all had ideas about what we thought we wanted when we were seventeen. I thought that I was going to be a hairdresser because I was so fucking sick of practicing until my wrists ached. I thought anything, anything but having to practice all the fucking time. So I told my parents I was quitting piano, and they stopped speaking to me, and I still thought, fine. It would be worth it not to have to play anymore. To have some space in my life to think about something else, just for once.
"But then, I couldn't make it four days without playing. I had to sneak into the piano room and play with the mute on, because I didn't want my parents to know. I didn't tell them that I was playing again. Not for two weeks. I just played quietly at night when they were asleep, and for once it was just about me, and there wasn't any pressure, and the piano had never sounded as good as when I was pressing the keys halfway down so that the notes wouldn't resonate. I didn't tell anyone, but two weeks later my parents started speaking to me anyway. Like, that they'd let me quit, if I wanted to, that much. My parents have learned to accept a lot of things about me, actually."
Brendon goes quiet, but Spencer doesn't say anything.
"It wasn't really a choice, I guess that's all I'm saying," Brendon says. "I know you don't like. I know you don't understand why I would spend so much time doing this, when maybe there's a job at the end of it, and maybe there isn't."
"I never said that," Spencer says.
"You didn't have to."
"I don't think it's bad. I don't think you should be doing something else or anything."
"Except that sometimes you wonder why I don't."
"It's just that." Spencer frowns. "It's just that I don't get how you don't worry more. Or. That's not the right word. It's your life, what if you wake up in five years and think, 'fuck, why didn't I do something that paid off in the long run'?" Spencer says. "No, that's not. I don't mean that what you're doing doesn't count in the long run. Just nevermind."
"It's going to work out okay, Spence. For me," he says, "and for you. It's going to work out okay for you. You don't have to hold on so tightly all the time."
"I just don't want to fuck this up," Spencer says. "It feels like I'm close to getting what I've always wanted. I'm going to graduate and just. Everything's on schedule. I'm so close now."
Brendon looks down at his hands for a long time. When he finally looks up, he says, "Okay."
Spencer frowns, confused.
Brendon stands. "I'll see you later, maybe. You could still come to the recital, if you wanted."
"What do you mean?" Spencer says. "What, is this-- Are you?"
"I don't want to stop you from getting what you want," Brendon says softly. "I'm not going to try and stand in your way."
"That's not what I-- I didn't mean to say that you were," Spencer stumbles over his words.
"Okay," Brendon says again. He looks calm or sad or something that Spencer has never seen before. This isn't want he meant to happen. He hadn't meant for Brendon to give up on him, except for maybe all the times when he really had.
"I'm going to come," he says, firmly. "I wouldn't miss it, I swear."
Brendon presses his lips tight, in what could almost pass for a smile on anyone else, but on Brendon? Spencer is feeling nauseated. He tries to think of something to say to make Brendon smile for real, but Brendon is already walking away.
--
t.
Brendon's recital is three weeks away. Spencer still wanders the halls looking for which room Brendon's practicing in, but now when he finds him, he just watches through the window, instead of going in.
He studies a lot, starts preparing way ahead of time for his finals.
Ryan leaves him alone for the most part, which Spencer appreciates. He makes Spencer coffee, and brings him granola bars sometimes.
"I liked the person you were when you were with him," Ryan says one day.
Spencer considers play dumb, but instead just says, "Me too."
--
u.
Ryan offers to come to the recital with him, but Spencer say he wants to go alone. He knows that Ryan would probably like it, like the music and the chance to dress up, but Spencer wants the afternoon for himself.
He sits on an aisle seat and tries to remember to breathe as he waits for Brendon to come on stage. The hall is surprisingly full and Spencer looks around to see if he recognizes anyone. He doesn't.
Finally, Brendon walks across the stage. Spencer's hands are sweating when he joins the applause.
--
As Brendon plays, Spencer feels inexplicably proud of him. It wells up inside and gets caught in his throat, and when Brendon starts playing the song that they practiced together, Spencer's chest tightens to the point of pain.
He spreads his program out over his lap, and they're in a fucking public place, but Brendon plays with his whole body, and Spencer remembers what Brendon looked like when they moved together, the texture of his skin, the way that he smelled. Spencer squirms in his seat. He knows he should look away, get himself under control before the old lady sitting beside him notices that he's acting weirdly, but he can't take his eyes off of Brendon.
Brendon's head moves while he plays, twisting from side to side but not looking anywhere in particular. Spencer can see his expressions shifting, reacting to the music. Spencer wonders what Brendon is thinking right now, if he knows how he looks, flushed and lush and almost wanton as he pounds the keys. He wonders if Brendon can feel him staring.
Spencer watches him play, stroking his gaze over his entire body. His shiny black dress shoes working the pedals. Spencer can imagine the muscles in his calves flexing beneath his pants as he rocks his foot. Brendon's wearing a suit, with a jacket and tie and Spencer knows that he's probably hot. Brendon's body temperature always runs a couple of degrees higher than normal.
--
Brendon is playing his last song now, a final showy number. Spencer can't believe how quickly time has passed. He wonders if he has been remembering to blink. Brendon's hair is sticking to the side of his face. He's bitten his lips red while he played, sharp white teeth digging in as he concentrated.
The song finishes. Brendon stands and takes a proper bow. When he straightens again, he pushes his hair way from his face and breaks into a huge, goofy grin. Something inside of Spencer twists sharply.
He looks away. Finally.
--
Brendon is standing with a group of his classmates who are all laughing and poking at him as Brendon beams and halfheartedly bats their hands away. Just off to the side are a couple of Brendon's teachers talking with an older couple who Spencer assumes are Brendon's parents. Other groups are scattered around the room: siblings? grandparents? maybe some of his friends from back home?
Spencer stand by himself, learning against a wall. He's the only one who doesn't belong here. As he watches the people interacting with each other, interacting with Brendon, Spencer comes to the overwhelming realization that he's watching Brendon's life, watching Brendon's people, and he isn't at all a part of it. He knows that he should just go, should leave Brendon to his moment, but. He's not ready to go yet. Not ready to leave without saying goodbye. He doesn't want to interrupt Brendon and put him in the awkward position of having to explain why Spencer is here.
Spencer fiddles with his car keys. He ties, then reties his shoelaces. When he rises after adjusting the laces for a third time, Brendon is standing right beside him.
"Ack," Spencer startles. Brendon just looks steadily at him.
"That was, fuck. You were just--" Now that Brendon's standing right in front of him, Spencer doesn't know what to say. He doesn't have the words to describe what he's feeling right now.
"I have to go get my stuff," Brendon says. He turns and walks out the back hallway, looking over his shoulder as he leaves.
Spencer follows.
--
Brendon holds the door open for him when they get to one of the back rooms.
As the door closes behind them, Spencer turns and grabs Brendon, pushing him up against the wall and crushing their lips together.
"You were so good," Spencer gasps as he reaches down to pull Brendon's hips into his own.
"Thanks," Brendon says, leaning his head back against the wall and looking at Spencer.
Spencer's blood is strumming, and the need to touch Brendon everywhere, right now, is almost painful.
Spencer falls to his knees and tugs at Brendon's pants until somehow he manages to get them open, manages to get Brendon's cock free. Spencer sucks him down, bobbing his head quickly, sucking hard. He rests his hands on Brendon's hips, fitting his fingers into the hollows by the bone.
Brendon's cock is heavy on his tongue, thick in his throat when Spencer swallows around him. Spencer's nose is crushed against Brendon's pubic hair, and the smell of him makes Spencer's mouth water. When Spencer pulls off to tongue at the head of Brendon's cock, Spencer can taste him, heady and salty and a little bitter, and when Spencer wraps a hand around the base and starts jerking him, the taste grows stronger. Spencer can't help the little noise he makes.
Brendon's breathing heavily and cursing under his breath. Spencer's licking and licking and fuck, he can't help himself. He reaches his free hand down to tug on his own cock. He twists his wrist hard, and gasps around Brendon's cock.
He's gotten Brendon slick, and his other hand slides easily, quickly over the wet skin. Spencer squeezes his own cock in time with his tongue as he licks along Brendon's cock.
He wraps his lips around his teeth and sucks hard. The noise Brendon makes when he comes is raw and. Spencer can't hold back. He comes over his fingers, catching most of the mess in his palm. He's groaning around Brendon's cock, trying not to choke as Brendon jerks in his mouth. Spencer pulls back and swallows.
Spencer rests his head against Brendon's thigh and tries to catch his breath. He's still panting when Brendon rocks away from the wall and slumps to the floor in front of Spencer. Spencer's hand is a mess and he tries not to smear it on Brendon's nice clothes. He licks his lips, still swallowing the taste of Brendon away. Spencer's neck feels sticky and he thinks that maybe he didn't quite get it all.
Spencer is still hard, still hanging out of his pants. He needs to find a Kleenex and get cleaned up, but he and Brendon are tangled together on the floor and he doesn't want to move.
Brendon runs a hand through Spencer's hair, tilting his head back until their kips are pressed together. Brendon kisses him, lingering and closed mouthed.
"Hey," he whispers into Spencer's lips.
Spencer feels embarrassed now, wonders if Brendon can see his flush or if his cheeks are already too red.
Spencer pulls back a bit. "Is there a bathroom around here?" He holds up his sticky hand, but can't meet Brendon's eye.
Brendon groans, low and raw in his throat, and cups Spencer's face with both hands, kissing him hard. He smooths his hands over Spencer's cheeks, and says, "Yeah, I know where one is," before leaning in to kiss Spencer again.
Brendon stands first, and helps Spencer to his feet. He dresses both of them as best he can and then leads Spencer to the washroom. Spencer washes his hands and splashes cold water over his face.
"I'm sorry," he says as he pats his face dry with paper towel. "For molesting you in the backroom when you should be with your family. And for all the other stuff."
Brendon quirks the side of his mouth up. "What, um. What does that mean?"
"I," Spencer starts. He runs his hand through his hair. "I've never wanted anything like I want you. Not just like-- But, everything. I didn't know what that meant, I guess. And I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you this sooner." He rubs his hands over his eyes and then peeks at Brendon through his fingers. "I know you have to go back. We can just talk later. If that's okay, I mean, if you want to. I'll let you go now."
Brendon pulls his hands away from his face and kisses him firmly. "You want to come meet my family?" he asks.
Spencer nods.
Brendon reaches down to grab his fingers, giving him a quick, tight squeeze, but as they walk down the hall, Spencer doesn't let go.
Spencer/Brendon | NC-17 | ~10500 words | college!au |
Spencer's had a headache for five days now.
This is for chopsticknoodle, for our two-person-fic-exchange-of-creating-more-Spencer/Brendon-awesomeness!
Thank you SO MUCH to theaerosolkid and imogenedisease for betaing this for me! <3
a.
Spencer's had a headache for five days now.
It started sometime before he handed in his paper on the halo effect and organizational citizenship behaviour as ways of explaining inter-rater discrepancy in performance appraisals, lasted through his accounting midterm, and is lingering still as he searches around the apartment for his cue cards to practice his speech for his presentation for his fundamentals of marketing class tomorrow morning.
It's not that it's bad enough to stop him from doing anything; he's still made it to class, still been studying and writing and preparing. It's just that it hurts all the time.
And Ryan keeps making jokes about how if he keeps scowling like that, his face is going to get stuck and then no one'll ever want to have sex with him again.
Ryan's big on the whole experimenting-sexually aspect of university life, which is fine and great for him, but Spencer would like for them to once have a conversation that didn't loop back to the best way to get the hot blonde who works at the library to let Ryan fuck her. It's been six months. If he hasn't come up with a plan by now, it probably means that it's time to move on. Except that Ryan is totally still sleeping with other people, so Spencer isn't able to make that argument very convincingly.
(Ryan's modus operandi is to put on way too much eyeliner, and jeans that are tight enough to dismember a small child, but hang off his skinny hips. Once at the party, he drinks 7-Up and leaves with the hottest chick there.
His mating dance seem to involve making out with a similarly wide-eyed, skinny-hipped boy until the girls cream themselves, leaving Ryan to pick and choose which one he wants to go home with.
Spencer knows about Ryan's routine partly because they usually go to the same parties, and partly because the videos of Ryan and the other boy doing their thing invariably end up on youtube, which is bad enough, without Ryan always sending him the damn links to the stupid things.)
And Spencer wouldn't even mind that so much, were they not roommates, and were it not for the fact that Ryan made way more noise while having sex than any guy should ever make.
Even that would probably be okay. Spencer's iPod turns up loud, and, though Ryan had sex frequently, it's not like he lasts for a very long time.
Except. Except that Ryan was also an insufferably nosy friend who was always trying to fuss with Spencer's love life, or lack thereof, and that, on top of everything else, on top of the headache, was just more than Spencer could take.
And, oh god. It was worth it. For that brief moment just after Spencer's fist struck out, catching Ryan in the jaw, it was worth it.
Afterwards, it wasn't as good. Afterwards, when Ryan crumpled to the floor in a tremendous pile of bony limbs, and then crawled over to the freezer for the bag of frozen peas. And then bitched for three straight hours about how Spencer had broken his jaw. That part sucked.
"If your jaw was broken, I don't think that you would be able to talk so much," Spencer points out when Ryan finally pauses for breath.
"That does it," Ryan says. "I'm pressing charges. You're going to jail for assault."
"They don't send people to jail for hitting someone once," Spencer says.
"Yeah they do!" Ryan insists.
"No. Dude, you have to like. Cause bleeding, at least."
"That's not true. Bruising counts."
"Like- in hockey. It's not a penalty is there isn't blood."
"-- the fuck are you talking about hockey for?" Ryan asks, voice muffled as he shifts the mostly melted bag of peas around.
"And anyway, I don't even think that you're bruised."
"I am," Ryan says.
"Put the peas away and let me see," says Spencer.
"No."
They sit together on the floor in the kitchen.
Finally, Spencer looks at Ryan and says, "I'm sorry I hit you."
Ryan grunts.
"You okay?" Spencer asks.
"You have to buy us a new bag of peas," Ryan says. "This one has turned to mush and we'll never be able to eat it now."
They were never going to eat a bag of peas anyway, but Spencer just nods and says he'll put it on the grocery list.
--
Over breakfast the next morning, Spencer asks, "Are you wearing foundation or something?"
Ryan gives him a look. "No. It's first thing in the morning."
Spencer gives Ryan a look back, because Ryan has totally worn makeup early in the morning before.
Ryan looks down and stirs at his cereal with his spoon.
"Dude, your face didn't bruise, at all," Spencer says.
"Yeah, you totally hit like a girl."
Spencer sighs, loudly, and lifts up his bowl to drink the rest of the milk.
--
b.
The thing that Ryan doesn't consider when he makes fun of Spencer for not having sex, is that a) Spencer has a girlfriend, so he can't be having sex with strangers even if he wanted to and b) he totally does get laid. When he went back home on the Labour Day weekend, for example.
Depending on how cranky Spencer is feeling, there is sometimes also c) it's not like Spencer has much time for sex anyways, and maybe if Ryan stopped dicking around and actually declared a major, he wouldn't either.
--
He thinks point c), but he doesn't bring it up. The last time he had mentioned it Ryan said, "Dude, whatever. I just have to make an appointment sometime. It'll take five minutes."
"And tell them you're majoring in what?"
"Philosophy," Ryan said. "Or English. Just, you know. Humanities. Unless maybe I'll get a B.F.A. in writing."
--
c.
Spencer probably doesn't spend more time studying than the average university student, but it feels like he does. It feels like he spends every waking minute at the library and it's always just a little bit too quiet there. It smells just a little too old or dry or fucking smart or something, and it doesn't matter which floor he goes to, he just can't find a spot that he can bear to sit in for more than about ten minutes.
Spencer wonders if he's losing his mind. It's a bit early in the year for that though, only late October.
Spencer is actually considering pushing the desks in the basement into a new pattern. There aren't that many other people around, it probably wouldn't be all that disruptive. Maybe they would even want to help him.
Spencer runs a hand over his face and decides that he needs to get out of the building.
He packs up his books and wanders around campus trying to figure out where he is supposed to study instead. There are desks in the hallways of some of the buildings, but he thinks that would probably be even worse. They just set up a new Starbucks, so Spencer decides to try that out. Obviously more caffeine will help calm his nerves.
--
Spencer drops his backpack off at one of the tables and goes to stand in line. He's staring through the glass display at the scones, wondering if he's hungry or not, when it's he turn. As he looks up, "Oh, Jon!" he says.
"Hey, Spence. How's it going?"
"Good, fine," Spencer says. "I didn't know that you worked here."
"Dude, there's only been a here for about two weeks," Jon grins.
"I mean more here in a Starbucks, but yeah, fair enough." Spencer looks behind himself to see if he's holding up the lineup. He's not. "Been to any good shows lately?" Jon takes pictures of the local bands for the university newspaper's entertainment section.
Jon chats happily about the shows that he's seen until another customer comes behind Spencer.
"You want some coffee?" Jon asks.
"Yeah," Spencer says. "Maybe a scone."
"These ones are old," Jon says. "Come back tomorrow, I'm doing the opening shift, so I'm baking the new ones. You can have one of my scones."
Spencer laughs. "Alright."
--
When Spencer gets home that night, he changes and goes for a run.
Spencer runs because the pounding of his feet on the pavement is better than the pounding in his head, and because he likes the aching muscles afterwards, the excuse to take long, punishingly hot showers.
And because he was chubby in high school, but he's not now, and it's better this way.
--
d.
Spencer comes back to the Starbucks the next day, after his last class. Ryan was going to meet him sometime later in the afternoon so that they could engage in their bimonthly attempt at grocery shopping. Neither one of them was any better at it than the other, so they always went together.
The Starbucks is packed when Spencer walks through the door. He finds the only free table and lays out his stuff before going to wait in line. When he reaches the cash register, Jon grins and says that he saved Spencer a special scone. He walks into the back kitchen and comes back with a scone in the shape of an 'S'.
"Coffee, too?" Jon asks, after Spencer has stopped laughing and thanking him.
--
Spencer is halfway through a chapter and wondering quite intently if green was really the best color of highlighter to be using, when a guy wearing a lavender hoodie comes to his table and waits until he looks up.
"Hi," the guys says. "There aren't any free tables, and Jon said that he knew you and maybe you wouldn't mind if I sat at your table?"
Spencer looks over at Jon, who gives him a little wave.
"Um, yeah. That's okay," Spencer says.
He pushes his books into a neater pile and the guy sits down across from him.
"I'm Brendon," the guys says.
"Spencer. You know Jon?"
"Yeah," Brendon says. "We took a class together. Um, this one about making soundtracks? Because Jon's in video and I'm in music. We made this awesome short film together."
"You're in music?"
"Yeah." Brendon holds up a pad of paper that's got rows of music staffs. He's got it filled halfway with notes. "We're doing counterpoint right now, in my theory class."
"What'd you play?"
"Piano. What are you taking?"
"Commerce," Spencer says.
Brendon nods. "At least you're going to get a job one day."
That's what people always say when Spencer tells them about his major. He feels a little disappointed. "I guess," he says. "But I like it, too."
"Yeah?" Brendon asks. And then, "Why's that?" in this tone that sounds honestly interested, like Spencer would have something to say that Brendon had actually always wanted to know.
Spencer feels something relax a little bit inside his stomach, like it hasn't since the second week in September.
--
When Ryan comes into the coffee shop and finds Spencer at the table with Brendon, he does this thing where he quirks his eyebrows and kind of-- Maybe it could be called a smirk? Spencer has a moment of panic that maybe this is one of the pretty, scene boys that Ryan's made out with.
Brendon doesn't react at all though.
"You ready to go, Spence?" Ryan asks. "I can come back later."
"No, it's okay," Spencer says. "I'll see you later?" he says to Brendon.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "I come here all the time."
--
Spencer looks back through the window as he and Ryan walk away. Brendon is watching him leave. Spencer gives a little wave.
"So," Ryan says as they walk down the street. "He seemed nice."
"Do you like. Know him?" Spencer asks. "From somewhere?"
"No," Ryan says. "I've never met him before."
"Okay," Spencer says, and the subject is dropped.
--
e.
Spencer has a lot of classes the next day, so he just goes straight home afterwards. The day after that, he heads back to the Starbacks. It's quiet, so he doesn't bother setting his stuff down, just heads straight up to the counter.
"How many hours a week are you working?" he asks Jon.
"Too many," Jon says. "Too many. But, I have this awesome idea for my next video assignment and I have to buy some really expensive lights for it, so, one does what one must for one's art."
Spencer laughs.
"Brendon's over by the window," Jon says as he hands Spencer over his coffee. "You should go say hi."
"Okay." Spencer shrugs.
He walks over to the window, and when Brendon sees him, he grins hugely. "Hey, Spencer," he says. "Want to sit with me?"
There are lots of other tables free, but Spencer sits down anyways.
--
f.
That Friday, the movie theater on campus shows This is Spinal Tap.
Spencer and Ryan are waiting in line to buy tickets when Ryan says, "Hey, look, there's Jon." He waves him over.
Jon walks up to them, with Brendon following behind.
"Ryan and Spencer," Jon says. "What a surprise. This is Brendon," Jon tells Ryan.
Spencer gives Brendon a little wave.
"Brendon dragged me out here tonight. He says that this is his favorite movie."
"Really?" Ryan says. "Spencer says the same."
Ryan's being pretty weird, but not necessarily weirder than usual, so Spencer just lets it go.
They pay for tickets and walk inside the theater.
"I think I'd like some popcorn," Jon says. "Would you like some popcorn, Ryan?"
"In fact I would," Ryan says. "Spence, you and Brendon should go save us seats."
"Um. Okay?" Spencer says.
--
He and Brendon sing the songs together while they watch the movie. As they are walking out of the theater, Spencer says, "Damn, I need to buy that soundtrack already."
"I have it," Brendon says. "You can borrow if if you want."
"Yeah?" Spencer says.
"I live super close to here, want to come get it right now?"
Spencer turns to Ryan, who says, "I think me and Jon'll be fine. Go ahead."
--
Spencer ends up staying at Brendon's until four in the morning, talking.
--
g.
Brendon calls him on Sunday morning. "I hope this's okay," he says. "Jon gave me your number."
"No, it's fine," Spencer says. "What's up?"
"I bought a whole bunch of berries," Brendon says. "But I forgot to eat most of them, so now I'm making smoothies. And I wondered if you wanted to come over and help me finish?"
"Okay," Spencer says. "Right now?"
"If you aren't busy."
--
When Spencer shows up, Brendon is wearing mittens.
"What're those for?" Spencer asks.
"Spencer. The smoothies. My hands are so cold. And I can't feel my cheeks. Do you think I have frostbite on my tongue?" He sticks out his tongue.
"I don't-- Even know what that would look like," Spencer says, peering forward. "Probably not though."
"Thank god you're here," Brendon says.
He pulls Spencer inside. His entire kitchen counter is covered in glasses, some empty, some still full.
"Well, just dig in," Brendon says. "The rest are yours."
"Dude, how much smoothie did you make?"
"Too much," Brendon says, dropping to the floor. "I can feel my insides sloping around. I don't think there's room for my internal organs with all the smoothie. Just. Grab a glass and join me."
Spencer grabs a red one and sits down beside Brendon.
--
h.
Spencer has always had some degree of trouble being friends with other guys, though not for any reason that Spencer's been able to figure out. He and Ryan have known each other since childhood, and they mostly don't have any trouble. As long as neither one of them pay too much attention to what the other says, that is. But, for some reason, most friendships with guys-not-Ryan have had a very short lifespan. Often, the other guy would get a girlfriend, and it's not like Spencer gets jealous or whatever. It's just that it doesn't feel the same anymore, and they drift apart.
It isn't like that with Brendon. Not the 'Brendon not having a girlfriend' part, although Spencer's nearly positive that he doesn't. Just. The awkwardness. It feels natural, him and Brendon. Sort of like with him and Ryan except really. Not. Probably because they haven't know each other forever.
The point is, it works. Ryan doesn't even seem to care that Spencer calls Brendon when he wants to see a movie now, instead of waiting for Ryan to get home.
Ryan will walk through the door and find Spencer getting dressed. He'll just say, "Going out?" like he already knows who Spencer is seeing or something.
Spencer usually just says, "Yup." Then he asks some variation of, "Does this look weird?" Because maybe a blue t-shirt with blue jeans is too much blue?
And then Ryan will try to convince him to just wear some of Ryan's clothes, because Spencer's wardrobe makes him, "look like a scrub."
And sometimes Spencer listens to him, and sometimes he doesn't.
--
i.
The first time Spencer hears Brendon play piano, it's an accident. Brendon had said to meet him by the vending machine in the A-wing of the music building. Spencer has never been there before, and he wanders, lost, down a hallway that has a whole bunch of doors, not like normal classrooms. He looks through the windows and sees that the little rooms are practice rooms. As he continues down the hall, peeking through the windows, he happens to catch sight of Brendon pounding away at a piano, which takes up the entirety of the small room.
Spencer stands on his toes and looks through the window. Brendon is alone and he seems to be concentrating hard. Spencer turns the door handle very slowly and tries to creep silently into the room.
Brendon hears him though, and turns his head around.
"Sorry," Spencer says. "Just keep going."
"Am I late?" Brendon asks. "What time is it?"
"No, I just got lost," Spencer says. "Play."
Brendon turns to the keys and takes off where he stopped. He's got sheets and sheets of music in front of him, photocopied out of the book so that he doesn't have to turn the pages. Brendon plays all the way to the end of the song, and frowns when it's done.
"I'm sorry," Brendon says. "I suck at that one."
Spencer doesn't know what he's talking about, and says as much.
"It doesn't matter," Brendon says. "I just. It's not right. I don't know if I'll have it ready in time."
"You have to perform it?" Spencer asks.
Brendon nods.
"Play me something you like," Spencer says.
Brendon grins and start playing without pulling out any music.
--
Spencer only become aware of how much time has passed when Ryan calls and asks where the fuck he is.
--
j.
"I got a Dear John letter," Spencer tells Brendon. "Except for the part where it was a phone call. And also my name is Spencer."
"Dude, it's their loss," Brendon says. They are lying on the floor of Spencer apartment, attempting to build a log cabin out of toothpicks. Brendon claimed it was good for his manual dexterity.
"I guess. I mean-- she was quite a bit younger," Spencer says.
"You'll be better off without," Brendon pauses. "Her."
Spencer shrugs. "We could get some food now," he says, rolling onto his side. His back cracks loudly. "It's your turn to choose from where."
"I want pizza," Brendon says.
"You always pick pizza," says Spencer. "No olives this time, at least."
"I'll just eat yours. Again."
"Fucking disgusting little black... salty. Things," Spencer grumbles.
Brendon laughs and cuffs him on the side of his head.
--
k.
Spencer often brings his homework into the practice room and works while Brendon practices, especially after his schedule changes in January. It probably isn't as comfortable on the floor as it would be at a desk, but for some reason, it helps Spencer concentrate. Probably the classical music. Maybe it really is good for the brain.
--
One day, Brendon is waiting for Spencer outside in the hallway.
"I get to practice on the grand piano today," he beams. "Wanna come?"
"Yeah," Spencer says. "What do you mean, the grand piano?"
Brendon leads in down the hall into a new wing of the building. He opens up a door, and suddenly they are walking on stage.
"This is the recital hall," Brendon says. "We get to take turns practicing on the big piano."
"Whoa," Spencer says, looking around. He's never been on stage before, and as he looks out over the rows of chairs, the room looks huge. "Are you going to perform here?"
"Yup," Brendon says. "Cool, huh?"
"Yeah."
Brendon walks over to the piano and sits down. "Too bad I still can't play this fucking song though."
"Play it again. I remember the way it sounded on the CD you played for me. I'll tell you if I can hear what's different."
Brendon starts playing.
"You're not quite. It's just. You're rushing on the fast parts, I think," Spencer finally says.
"What?" Brendon asks. He turns to look at Spencer, and Spencer comes to up stand behind him.
"Umm. Just start playing."
Brendon starts the song again.
Spencer steps up close behind him, and when the time signature changes and the pieces moves into the fast section, he reaches out and taps out the beat on Brendon's shoulder.
Brendon freezes for a moment, then tilts his head to the other side, giving Spencer more room. Spencer lets his hand curve around Brendon's shoulder, keeping the rhythm by tapping his thumb against Brendon's bare skin, just past the collar of his t-shirt. As Brendon plays, against his open palm, Spencer can feel Brendon's muscles flexing and rolling with the movement of his arms.
The song changes back into the slow section, and Spencer stills his hand, leaving it where it rests. Brendon's shoulder is warm through the thin layer of his t-shirt, his skin soft where Spencer's thumb lingers.
--
Spencer sits in the audience chairs for the rest of the time Brendon practices, but he doesn't manage to get any homework done.
"Want to come to my place, now?" Brendon asks as he walks down the stairs off the stage.
"Okay," Spencer says.
Brendon doesn't talk much on the walk back to his place, but when Spencer looks over him, he smiles.
--
They get into Brendon's apartment, and Brendon goes into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and Spencer follows him. The space is tiny, hardly room for two people between the fridge and the counters.
Brendon tilts his head back when he drinks. He sets the glass on the counter and wipes his hand across his mouth. He turns toward Spencer, letting his hand fall away, and he's right there, right in front of Spencer, and his mouth and Spencer leans in to kiss him before he can stop himself.
Spencer's never done this before, not ever with guys. He wonders if Brendon has, if Brendon's been with other boys. His hands aren't shaking like Spencer's are, anyway. His hands and his fucking wrists and Spencer's tried not to look, he really has. But now, for this moment, Spencer has this sudden rush of longing hitting him all at once: maybe Brendon will touch him, maybe Brendon will slide his hands up over Spencer's arms and rest them on his shoulders and lean back and let Spencer kiss him deeper.
Spencer is trying not to push. He doesn't want to scare Brendon away, but once he gets that thought into his head, it's all he can do not to press into Brendon and try to just make it happen. Touch me, he thinks. Touch me touch me let me feel you.
Brendon's still kissing him just as softly, just as slowly, but the tip of his tongue comes out to graze over Spencer's lip, and fuck. Spencer surges against him, reaching out to pull him in closer, and please don't stop me, he thinks. Please let me have this, just for a minute. Then I'll leave you alone.
Everywhere Spencer touches, Brendon feels knobby and sharp, and if Spencer could still think, he'd rub his hands over the hollows to see where his fingers fit best. As it is, Spencer just clutches at his back and tries to pull him closer, tries to keep him near.
Brendon is stiff, maybe uncertain, for half a breath and then he just seems to melt in. Spencer holds him tight, and there, Brendon curls one hand around Spencer's neck.
If Brendon doesn't hear the noise that Spencer makes in response, he certainly must feel it, vibrating against where his fingers smooth along Spencer's throat.
Spencer starts to feel panicked. What is he doing? Brendon must be able to tell, because he pulls away and says, "Let's just watch a movie now, okay?"
Spencer nods. Brendon takes him by the hand to the couch and doesn't let go.
--
l.
"What's that?" Spencer asks. He was waiting outside of the library for Brendon, who showed up carrying a strange looking black case.
"An oboe," Brendon says.
"Why do you have an oboe?"
"'Cause we have to learn another instrument. Being well rounded and all that."
"Why'd you pick oboe?" Spencer asks. Those were the ones that looked like a clarinet, right?
"I didn't pick oboe. I mean. Well, I might go with that. I was thinking guitar. You know, like, classical guitar? It's actually pretty cool."
Spencer doesn't actually know, but he nods anyways.
"Or," Brendon continues. "I'm pretty good at the trombone, actually. Maybe that. I was going to just go with cello, but everyone picks cello for their second instrument. So. We'll see, I guess."
"Don't you graduate in like, three months?" Spencer asks.
"Well, yeah," Brendon says.
"So, isn't it a bit late to be deciding?"
"I can play all of them already," Brendon says. "I just have to decide what I want to use for the recital."
"Recital?"
"We have our solo recital, which is basically how they decide if you graduate or not. It's worth. A lot. And then, in larger groups, we have another recital type thing for the second instruments. You just play three or four songs."
"Huh," Spencer says.
"It should be fun, actually," Brendon says. "I love performing."
"Is that what you're going to do?" Spencer asks. "After you're finished."
"Maybe one day," Brendon says. "I got into grad school though. I'm going to get a master's degree first."
"Good for you," Spencer says. "I want to get an MBA, but you can't even apply until you have at least three years of full time work experience."
"Ugh, the real world," Brendon shudders dramatically.
Spencer sighs. "I know. So, um. Ryan's not going to be home tonight. If you. Ah. If you wanted."
Brendon grins.
--
Spencer is too nervous to eat, and as he paces around the apartment he wonders for the six hundredth time what the hell he was doing.
He is thisclose to picking up the phone and telling Brendon not to come after all when there is a knock on the door.
"I came early," Brendon says. "So that you wouldn't have time to get yourself all worked up. But it looks like I was too late."
"Brendon," Spencer says, helplessly. "I don't know-- I haven't-- I mean. I'm not even. Oh fuck."
Brendon smiles at him softly and walks inside. "How about we just play Guitar Hero?"
"Okay," Spencer says. "I can do that."
They play against each other, and Brendon wins again and again.
"I blame the guitar," Spencer says.
"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says. "We can trade if you want."
Spencer pulls the little guitar strap over his head and holds it out to Brendon while he waits for Brendon to do the same. Except that instead of grabbing the guitar away from Brendon, he lets the toy fall onto the floor and pulls Brendon in close, leaning over and kissing him hard.
They fall back onto the couch, Brendon kneeling with over Spencer. Spencer pulls him in close and kisses him until his mouth feels raw, and even then he doesn't want to stop. Spencer doesn't know how long they've been kissing for, but it isn't slow and easy like Spencer used to when he makes out. He's hard and shaking and trying to figure out what he's supposed to do about it when Brendon trails his hand down and cups him through his jeans.
"Can I touch you?" Brendon says.
Spencer arches into him, "Please, please."
Brendon moves above him and manages to get his pants open and pushed part way down his thighs. Brendon kisses him, slick and wet and nasty as he rubs his palm over Spencer's cock, and fuck, his hands.
Spencer opens his mouth wider and cups the back of Brendon's head, rubbing down and over his neck.
Brendon kisses him for a minute longer before pulling away. He bites at Spencer's lip, just quickly and jerks harder at Spencer's cock. Then, Brendon slides to the floor and tugs Spencer's pants the rest of the way off as he goes.
"Spencer," Brendon says clearly. "I'm going to suck your cock now. You have to say if you want me to stop."
Spencer just groans louder and pushes into his hand.
"Oh fuck," he says when Brendon's mouth closes over him. "Oh fuck. Oh. Fuckfuckfuck."
Spencer had been so distracted by Brendon's hands that he forgot about his mouth. But. Fuck. His mouth. Spencer grabs hard at the cushions and moves when Brendon pulls at his thighs until he's sitting up more. Spencer leans back against the couch and parts his legs further so that Brendon can lean in better.
Spencer's gotten head before, but never like this. Never like he couldn't think about anything but the mouth and the fucking tongue licking over him, taking him in deeper. Never like his spine was sizzling and, fuck, he hopes he's not whimpering as loudly as it sounds like he is.
Brendon sucks hard, and Spencer says, urgently, "Brendon, you have to. Fuck, Brendon. I'm--" But Brendon doesn't pull away and Spencer comes in his mouth.
Brendon stays on the floor, rubbing his hands over Spencer's calves gently, until Spencer slumps forward, down onto the floor, and tangles them up together.
"I want to keep you, please," Spencer says, and pecks Brendon on the mouth. He nuzzles against Brendon's neck and enjoys how they are pressed together. He can feel Brendon, hard against his leg, and even though he's still freaking out, just a little bit in one corner of his brain, he pulls away enough so that he can reach his hand into Brendon's pants.
Brendon's cock jumps in his hand. Brendon's flushed and twisting his fingers into the carpet, but still he says, "You don't have to do that."
Spencer kisses him quiet, and pushes his pants down so that when he comes, he doesn't get them dirty.
--
It takes half an hour for Spencer to finish kissing Brendon goodbye, pressed close together against the wall. Spencer's neck feels raw from Brendon's stubble, and he's hard again, rubbing up against Brendon's hip as Brendon pushes back against him.
Spencer finally lets him leave, jerks off in the shower, and is asleep before Ryan gets home.
--
m.
They don't do anything more than kiss the next time they get together. And the time after that. And again a few more times beyond that, until finally Spencer realizes that Brendon is waiting for him to make the first move, and tackles him onto the bed.
--
Spencer's grinding up against Brendon, tugging at his lower lip with his teeth. He's got his hands digging into Brendon's lower back, harder than he would ever let himself grab a girl, but Brendon just rocks against him, just presses closer. Spencer feels raw and desperate already, and they haven't even gotten their pants off yet. He rocks against Brendon's thigh, and would be embarrassed at his lack of control and how badly he fucking needs right now, except that his cock is hard to the point of distraction, and he can't help himself.
He reaches for one of Brendon's hands and presses it against the seam of his jeans, holding it there until Brendon's fingers curl around the outline of his cock. Then he lets go and starts struggling with his button, with the zipper on his fly, because he wants skin on skin contact now and Brendon's hands are so close, and he just needs-- And fuck, Brendon helps him push his boxers away and he's grabbing Spencer's cock.
Spencer doesn't want to be needy like this, doesn't know why he's unravelling at a fucking handjob, but he can't stop little noises from tearing away from his throat, can't stop from clutching at Brendon's back and thrusting up into his hands. His hands, his clever, strong, fucking beautiful hands. One is curled around the base of Spencer's cock, holding him in place, while the other twists up and over the head, and Spencer's leaking, smearing against the palm of his hand, and each downward stroke gets a little easier, gets a little slicker.
Brendon works over him quickly, jerking him hard, just how he likes it, until Spencer's twisting his head from side to side, and coming hard. Brendon's still pulling him through it and Spencer can't breathe, so he hopes that means he isn't moaning out anything embarrassing.
Brendon pulls away and sits back on his heels, giving Spencer space to catch his breath.
Once Spencer can think straight, he sits up and reaches for Brendon, pulling him in close and kissing him softly. As he slips his tongue into Brendon's mouth, he reaches down to tug off his pants, pulls away quickly to remove his t-shirt as well. Brendon helps him, until they are lying naked beside each other. Spencer pushes one leg in between Brendon's thighs and rolls over so he is on top. He's kissing him hard now, rubbing their cocks together, more than half hard again already.
Brendon spreads under him, sliding one heel up the back of Spencer's thigh, and just like that Spencer's aching again, frantic as he bites at Brendon's lip and tries to pull him even closer.
"You could, um. Want to fuck me?" Brendon says. Spencer stills. "Don't freak out," Brendon says.
Spencer lets his head drop down, and rubs down harder against Brendon. "I'm not," he says. "Yes, please."
"Do you have something to make it slippery?" Brendon asks.
Spencer passes him a bottle of lotion before getting up and rummaging around for a condom. He crawls back onto the bed, and rolls the condom on. Brendon grabs his hand and rubs lotion over it before taking his wrist and guiding him gently down.
"Okay?" Brendon asks and instead of answering, Spencer pushes his finger inside. Brendon pulls his legs further apart.
"Should I-- Another?" Spencer asks.
"Yeah," Brendon says. His hips are rocking up against Spencer's hand and he gasps when Spencer pushes another finger inside.
"Are you okay?" Spencer asks.
"Yes," Brendon hisses. "Keep going."
Spencer works his fingers, pulling them apart and open Brendon up, until Brendon is whining in the back of his throat. "Now," he says. "Spence, now."
Spencer pulls his hand away, and Brendon smooths a handful of lotion over Spencer's cock.
Spencer lines himself up. "Okay?" he asks as he pushes forward.
"It's good," Brendon says, voice cracking. He reaches up and grabs onto Spencer shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. "Fuck," he groans into Spencer's mouth. "Will you. Harder?"
Spencer braces himself on his forearm and pushes in faster and faster until Brendon's fingers dig sharply into his shoulder. He kisses Brendon again, licking in deep for a moment before kissing down his neck. He bites just under Brendon's ear, and Brendon jerks his hips up hard. He wraps his feet over Spencer's calves, bracing himself so that he can push up hard to meet Spencer's thrusts, and Spencer groans into his ear.
Brendon feels amazing beneath him, as they move together. Better even than Spencer thought he might, when he let himself think about it, rocking forward into his own hand late at night and aching for more.
Brendon shifts under him, and pulls one of his hands away from Spencer's shoulder to grab his cock. Spencer can feel his knuckles brushing over his stomach, quickly, and when Brendon gasps, "I'm close," Spencer says, "Me too."
Brendon's mouth falls open and he shudders, hips snapping up hard as he comes. Spencer feels it wet against his stomach.
Spencer groans out, "Brendon," and then he's coming as well.
--
n.
Brendon gets sore arms from practicing for a long time, and Spencer gets stiff shoulders from leaning over his books.
Brendon will spread him out on the bed, straddle him and rub out the kinks until Spencer feels like maybe his bones melted into the bed.
Spencer rubs Brendon's fingers, pressing into the hollows of Brendon's wrists until Brendon says that his skin is tingling and kisses Spencer until his mouth is as well.
Spencer knows that he gets the better end of the deal.
--
o.
Spencer wanders around the music building after he gets out of class until he finds the room that Brendon is practicing in. He stand outside the door for a minute, just watching, before he finally opens the door.
Brendon look surprised but happy to see him.
"Hey," he says. "What I supposed to meet you?"
"No," Spencer says. "I just-- No."
Brendon smiles at him, and Spencer swallows hard against the lump that forms in his throat.
"I could probably be done now," Brendon offers. "Do you want to do something?"
Spencer nods.
"You want to get some food or something?"
"Let's just. Can we just go back to your place?" Spencer asks.
"Okay," Brendon says. He collects together all of his music and stuffs it into his case. "I think...yeah. That's it. I'm good to go."
Spencer leaves the room first and waits in the hallway while Brendon turns out the lights and locks the door behind him.
--
Brendon does most of the talking on the way home, which isn't exactly unusual, except that Spencer is having a difficult time following along with what he's saying.
"Are you okay?" Brendon finally asks.
"Yes," Spencer says. Brendon just looks at him until he adds, "I just. Got a bad test mark back. It isn't even anything."
Except that Spencer's been going it over and over and he doesn't know how he did on the latest essay, but unless he really blew that one out of the water, it's going to take a fucking 93.5% on the final to get an A- in the class. Which wouldn't even matter, he doesn't like to fuss about and A-, except that he's definitely looking at a B in his accounting class, and he needs an A- to make up for that if he wants to graduate with distinction.
He tries to explain this to Brendon, and he knows he isn't doing a very good job, but Brendon nods and palms over his shoulder, just once, and Spencer feels better.
--
When they get to Brendon's apartment, he waits until Brendon locks the doors before pulling him close and kissing him hard. Brendon kisses back, and walks them slowly over to his bed.
Spencer lays down on his back and spreads his legs, pulling Brendon down on top of him. He wraps his leg up around Brendon's waist and stops kissing him long enough to say, "I want you to. This. Okay?"
Brendon pulls back further, wrapping his hand around Spencer's thigh before sliding it lower. "Are you sure?" he asks, seriously.
Spencer nods, and when Brendon breaks away to reach into the drawer of the bedside table, he wiggles out of his clothes. When Brendon comes in close again, Spencer tugs at the material of his shirt, of his pants, until Brendon undresses as well.
Brendon kisses him again, before sinking lower on the bed. He licks over Spencer's cock and, looking up to watch Spencer's reactions carefully, he reaches down to rub lower. He rubs the tip of his finger over Spencer's entrance until Spencer pushes back against him and says, "Just do it." Brendon pushes inside, slowly. He's being careful, Spencer knows, but it still feels weird.
Brendon opens his mouth wider, and swallows around Spencer's cock at he pushes a second finger inside. Spencer chokes out a sound without meaning to. Brendon looks up quickly, so Spencer says, "No, just keep. Keep going."
Brendon works his fingers inside until the slide gets easier, until Spencer's panting and pushing back against him. He twists in deeper and Spencer pushes at his shoulder, "You have to. Now. Before I--"
Brendon sucks hard, one last time before pulling his mouth away. He leaves his fingers inside, so Spencer tears open the condom and rolls it on for him.
"Okay?" Brendon asks, and he waits until Spencer says yes before he pulls his fingers away and pushes his cock forward.
Spencer would be embarrassed by how much he wants this, how he's falling apart already to the blunt head of Brendon's cock nudging just inside. He would be embarrassed, if he didn't remember all of the times he's had Brendon panting and writhing beneath him, cursing and pressing back, up, down, trying to get Spencer's cock in a little bit deeper. So, if Brendon could do that, maybe it's okay now, with the little noises Spencer can't stifle, sneaking out with each hitch in his breathing.
Brendon's-- fuck. Brendon's pushing in now, in deeper. And it hurts, the stretch, the give as Brendon works his way inside. The pain is sharp and raw and Spencer has this moment where he's sure that he's going to come, just like that.
Brendon starts fucking him, gentle and smooth until the pleasure is just as sharp as the pain, and Spencer is clutching at Brendon's lower back, trying to pull him in deeper.
Brendon stills under his hands. "You okay?" he asks.
And Spencer isn't. He's not okay. But it's going to be even worse if Brendon stops. He flexes his fingers against Brendon's skin and says, "Just--"
Brendon seems to understand, because he's moving his hips again, mostly just grinding in deep.
Brendon rubs his nose over Spencer's cheek until Spencer rolls his head away from the pillow and looks up at him. He kisses Spencer before puling away a bit so that he can reach Spencer's cock. "It's okay," he says. "I've got you."
He's hardly moving his hips now, just pushing as he works his hand over Spencer's cock.
Spencer grabs his upper arms and holds on tight in case he falls to pieces as his cock jerks and his ass clenches. He feels Brendon everywhere. In that moment, he's everything, Brendon's all he needs, and it's enough.
Brendon's cock is still causing little shocks of pleasure inside of Spencer, and it's maybe too much so soon after orgasm, maybe too much against the ache that's spreading, but somehow, Spencer still wants him.
He looks up at Brendon who is studying him carefully, and says, "It's okay."
Brendon rocks in a little harder, still watching Spencer intently. Spencer's lips fall open, but it's not bad, and he tries to rock up to meet Brendon when he thrusts in again. Spencer thinks he almost has it figured out, the rhythm between them, when Brendon jerks unsteadily a few times and drops his head to groan into Spencer's neck.
Spencer wraps his arms around Brendon's back, and for the first time that night, Brendon feels smaller than him again.
--
p.
It's not that he's avoiding him, but Spencer gets pretty busy at school for the week following that and doesn't have time to see Brendon for a while after that.
--
Eventually, he buys Brendon's favourite kind of ice cream and shows up unannounced at Brendon's apartment. Brendon looks relieved to see him, and maybe a little bit pissed off, but he lets him in all the same.
"If it was too much, you just should have told me," Brendon says as they are rinsing their bowl in the sink.
"I was just busy," Spencer says.
He pushes Brendon into the bedroom, then sucks his cock until it's flushed dark red. He stands, bent over Brendon's bed, with his elbows digging in to the mattress when Brendon fucks him, chanting, "Harder, Brendon. Come on, more," into the sheets.
They shower together, after, and he slicks Brendon up using hair conditioner and fucks him into the tiles, hot water rushing down his back.
--
q.
Spencer sleeps over, just sometimes, and only at Brendon's because Brendon doesn't have a roommate.
--
Spencer dreams that he and Brendon are in the middle of an orchard, full of trees that have just blossomed, and the air around them is thick and sweet with the fluffy, white petals.
They are lying on a thick blanket, and Brendon is moving over him, touching him everywhere, strong fingers through the fabric of Spencer's clothes. Brendon's mouth tastes like apple juice and his tongue feels soft and white like the petals.
Spencer tries to reach out and touch Brendon, to pull his clothes away so they can rub bare skin together, but there is something holding him back, something pinning him to the ground. He tries to ask Brendon what's happening, to ask for help, but Brendon just stares down at him and says, "There's nothing stopping you, Spencer."
--
Spencer wakes up, covered in sweat, heart pounding. And achingly hard. As he adjusts to the darkness, blinking himself awake, he has to forcing himself not to rock up against Brendon. He tries to edge away, feeling suddenly desperate and claustrophobic under Brendon's weight in the dark.
Brendon wakes up and moves his hand slowly over Spencer's chest, where it had been fisted into Spencer's t-shirt. "Wha's wrong," he mumbles.
"Nothing," Spencer whispers. "Go to sleep."
"'d you have a bad dream?" Brendon asks.
"Yeah, I guess," Spencer says. "I just. I'll be back, okay?" He tries to roll off the bed, but Brendon catches him and pulls him back.
"Dude," he says, sounding more and more awake. "Don't be silly, I'll take care of it for you."
Brendon rolls on top of him and pushes his knee between Spencer's legs. Just like that, Spencer feels calm again. Mostly.
He pulls Brendon in closer and whispers, "I want you."
Brendon presses down against him with his whole body and says, "Me too."
--
r.
Spencer and Brendon go to Starbucks. Brendon sets up at a table while Spencer goes to order the drinks.
"Hey Jon," Spencer says.
"You want coffee?" Jon asks.
"Please," Spencer says.
"And what does your gentleman over there want?" Jon asks.
Spencer doesn't know what that's supposed to mean, but he orders Brendon hot chocolate.
--
s.
"So," Brendon says. "The lease on my apartment runs out at the end of May. And I thought that. I wondered if maybe. If you wanted to find a place and live with me."
Spencer blinks hard.
"It could just be for the summer," Brendon rushes on. "I know Ryan's going to be going to school again in the fall, and I don't know if you'll want to live with him again then, or find your own place when you start working or, I don't know, but-- It could just be for the summer if that's what you wanted."
"I don't think I can," Spencer finally says.
"Is it because of Ryan?" Brendon asks.
"It's not. I just mean." Spencer fidgets with the hem of his t-shirt. "I have a plan," he finally says. "Like, of what I want from life. And there is getting married and a wife and babies and the job. And it sounds stupid when I say it out loud," Spencer trails off. "I keep it in a drawer," he mutters. "You can see it if you want."
"You have a life plan, and you keep it in a drawer?" Brendon asks. "And that's why you won't move it with me this summer?"
"Not because of the drawer part," Spencer says. "Just the first bit."
"But what does that have to do with anything?" Brendon asks. "You can move in with me this summer. There will still be lots of time to dump me for your wife later. It isn't-- It's not going to ruin anything."
"I don't think that it would ruin anything," Spencer says. "I'm not explaining this well. But. I wouldn't do that to you. If we moved into together. I mean, I would only do that if I meant it. Does that make sense?"
"About as much as everything else," Brendon says. "But that's not saying a lot."
Spencer rubs over his eyes until he gets white spots in his vision.
"How old were you when you made your plan, Spencer?" Brendon asks.
"Seventeen," says Spencer.
"And it's still the same?"
Spencer shrugs.
"It's just. We all had ideas about what we thought we wanted when we were seventeen. I thought that I was going to be a hairdresser because I was so fucking sick of practicing until my wrists ached. I thought anything, anything but having to practice all the fucking time. So I told my parents I was quitting piano, and they stopped speaking to me, and I still thought, fine. It would be worth it not to have to play anymore. To have some space in my life to think about something else, just for once.
"But then, I couldn't make it four days without playing. I had to sneak into the piano room and play with the mute on, because I didn't want my parents to know. I didn't tell them that I was playing again. Not for two weeks. I just played quietly at night when they were asleep, and for once it was just about me, and there wasn't any pressure, and the piano had never sounded as good as when I was pressing the keys halfway down so that the notes wouldn't resonate. I didn't tell anyone, but two weeks later my parents started speaking to me anyway. Like, that they'd let me quit, if I wanted to, that much. My parents have learned to accept a lot of things about me, actually."
Brendon goes quiet, but Spencer doesn't say anything.
"It wasn't really a choice, I guess that's all I'm saying," Brendon says. "I know you don't like. I know you don't understand why I would spend so much time doing this, when maybe there's a job at the end of it, and maybe there isn't."
"I never said that," Spencer says.
"You didn't have to."
"I don't think it's bad. I don't think you should be doing something else or anything."
"Except that sometimes you wonder why I don't."
"It's just that." Spencer frowns. "It's just that I don't get how you don't worry more. Or. That's not the right word. It's your life, what if you wake up in five years and think, 'fuck, why didn't I do something that paid off in the long run'?" Spencer says. "No, that's not. I don't mean that what you're doing doesn't count in the long run. Just nevermind."
"It's going to work out okay, Spence. For me," he says, "and for you. It's going to work out okay for you. You don't have to hold on so tightly all the time."
"I just don't want to fuck this up," Spencer says. "It feels like I'm close to getting what I've always wanted. I'm going to graduate and just. Everything's on schedule. I'm so close now."
Brendon looks down at his hands for a long time. When he finally looks up, he says, "Okay."
Spencer frowns, confused.
Brendon stands. "I'll see you later, maybe. You could still come to the recital, if you wanted."
"What do you mean?" Spencer says. "What, is this-- Are you?"
"I don't want to stop you from getting what you want," Brendon says softly. "I'm not going to try and stand in your way."
"That's not what I-- I didn't mean to say that you were," Spencer stumbles over his words.
"Okay," Brendon says again. He looks calm or sad or something that Spencer has never seen before. This isn't want he meant to happen. He hadn't meant for Brendon to give up on him, except for maybe all the times when he really had.
"I'm going to come," he says, firmly. "I wouldn't miss it, I swear."
Brendon presses his lips tight, in what could almost pass for a smile on anyone else, but on Brendon? Spencer is feeling nauseated. He tries to think of something to say to make Brendon smile for real, but Brendon is already walking away.
--
t.
Brendon's recital is three weeks away. Spencer still wanders the halls looking for which room Brendon's practicing in, but now when he finds him, he just watches through the window, instead of going in.
He studies a lot, starts preparing way ahead of time for his finals.
Ryan leaves him alone for the most part, which Spencer appreciates. He makes Spencer coffee, and brings him granola bars sometimes.
"I liked the person you were when you were with him," Ryan says one day.
Spencer considers play dumb, but instead just says, "Me too."
--
u.
Ryan offers to come to the recital with him, but Spencer say he wants to go alone. He knows that Ryan would probably like it, like the music and the chance to dress up, but Spencer wants the afternoon for himself.
He sits on an aisle seat and tries to remember to breathe as he waits for Brendon to come on stage. The hall is surprisingly full and Spencer looks around to see if he recognizes anyone. He doesn't.
Finally, Brendon walks across the stage. Spencer's hands are sweating when he joins the applause.
--
As Brendon plays, Spencer feels inexplicably proud of him. It wells up inside and gets caught in his throat, and when Brendon starts playing the song that they practiced together, Spencer's chest tightens to the point of pain.
He spreads his program out over his lap, and they're in a fucking public place, but Brendon plays with his whole body, and Spencer remembers what Brendon looked like when they moved together, the texture of his skin, the way that he smelled. Spencer squirms in his seat. He knows he should look away, get himself under control before the old lady sitting beside him notices that he's acting weirdly, but he can't take his eyes off of Brendon.
Brendon's head moves while he plays, twisting from side to side but not looking anywhere in particular. Spencer can see his expressions shifting, reacting to the music. Spencer wonders what Brendon is thinking right now, if he knows how he looks, flushed and lush and almost wanton as he pounds the keys. He wonders if Brendon can feel him staring.
Spencer watches him play, stroking his gaze over his entire body. His shiny black dress shoes working the pedals. Spencer can imagine the muscles in his calves flexing beneath his pants as he rocks his foot. Brendon's wearing a suit, with a jacket and tie and Spencer knows that he's probably hot. Brendon's body temperature always runs a couple of degrees higher than normal.
--
Brendon is playing his last song now, a final showy number. Spencer can't believe how quickly time has passed. He wonders if he has been remembering to blink. Brendon's hair is sticking to the side of his face. He's bitten his lips red while he played, sharp white teeth digging in as he concentrated.
The song finishes. Brendon stands and takes a proper bow. When he straightens again, he pushes his hair way from his face and breaks into a huge, goofy grin. Something inside of Spencer twists sharply.
He looks away. Finally.
--
Brendon is standing with a group of his classmates who are all laughing and poking at him as Brendon beams and halfheartedly bats their hands away. Just off to the side are a couple of Brendon's teachers talking with an older couple who Spencer assumes are Brendon's parents. Other groups are scattered around the room: siblings? grandparents? maybe some of his friends from back home?
Spencer stand by himself, learning against a wall. He's the only one who doesn't belong here. As he watches the people interacting with each other, interacting with Brendon, Spencer comes to the overwhelming realization that he's watching Brendon's life, watching Brendon's people, and he isn't at all a part of it. He knows that he should just go, should leave Brendon to his moment, but. He's not ready to go yet. Not ready to leave without saying goodbye. He doesn't want to interrupt Brendon and put him in the awkward position of having to explain why Spencer is here.
Spencer fiddles with his car keys. He ties, then reties his shoelaces. When he rises after adjusting the laces for a third time, Brendon is standing right beside him.
"Ack," Spencer startles. Brendon just looks steadily at him.
"That was, fuck. You were just--" Now that Brendon's standing right in front of him, Spencer doesn't know what to say. He doesn't have the words to describe what he's feeling right now.
"I have to go get my stuff," Brendon says. He turns and walks out the back hallway, looking over his shoulder as he leaves.
Spencer follows.
--
Brendon holds the door open for him when they get to one of the back rooms.
As the door closes behind them, Spencer turns and grabs Brendon, pushing him up against the wall and crushing their lips together.
"You were so good," Spencer gasps as he reaches down to pull Brendon's hips into his own.
"Thanks," Brendon says, leaning his head back against the wall and looking at Spencer.
Spencer's blood is strumming, and the need to touch Brendon everywhere, right now, is almost painful.
Spencer falls to his knees and tugs at Brendon's pants until somehow he manages to get them open, manages to get Brendon's cock free. Spencer sucks him down, bobbing his head quickly, sucking hard. He rests his hands on Brendon's hips, fitting his fingers into the hollows by the bone.
Brendon's cock is heavy on his tongue, thick in his throat when Spencer swallows around him. Spencer's nose is crushed against Brendon's pubic hair, and the smell of him makes Spencer's mouth water. When Spencer pulls off to tongue at the head of Brendon's cock, Spencer can taste him, heady and salty and a little bitter, and when Spencer wraps a hand around the base and starts jerking him, the taste grows stronger. Spencer can't help the little noise he makes.
Brendon's breathing heavily and cursing under his breath. Spencer's licking and licking and fuck, he can't help himself. He reaches his free hand down to tug on his own cock. He twists his wrist hard, and gasps around Brendon's cock.
He's gotten Brendon slick, and his other hand slides easily, quickly over the wet skin. Spencer squeezes his own cock in time with his tongue as he licks along Brendon's cock.
He wraps his lips around his teeth and sucks hard. The noise Brendon makes when he comes is raw and. Spencer can't hold back. He comes over his fingers, catching most of the mess in his palm. He's groaning around Brendon's cock, trying not to choke as Brendon jerks in his mouth. Spencer pulls back and swallows.
Spencer rests his head against Brendon's thigh and tries to catch his breath. He's still panting when Brendon rocks away from the wall and slumps to the floor in front of Spencer. Spencer's hand is a mess and he tries not to smear it on Brendon's nice clothes. He licks his lips, still swallowing the taste of Brendon away. Spencer's neck feels sticky and he thinks that maybe he didn't quite get it all.
Spencer is still hard, still hanging out of his pants. He needs to find a Kleenex and get cleaned up, but he and Brendon are tangled together on the floor and he doesn't want to move.
Brendon runs a hand through Spencer's hair, tilting his head back until their kips are pressed together. Brendon kisses him, lingering and closed mouthed.
"Hey," he whispers into Spencer's lips.
Spencer feels embarrassed now, wonders if Brendon can see his flush or if his cheeks are already too red.
Spencer pulls back a bit. "Is there a bathroom around here?" He holds up his sticky hand, but can't meet Brendon's eye.
Brendon groans, low and raw in his throat, and cups Spencer's face with both hands, kissing him hard. He smooths his hands over Spencer's cheeks, and says, "Yeah, I know where one is," before leaning in to kiss Spencer again.
Brendon stands first, and helps Spencer to his feet. He dresses both of them as best he can and then leads Spencer to the washroom. Spencer washes his hands and splashes cold water over his face.
"I'm sorry," he says as he pats his face dry with paper towel. "For molesting you in the backroom when you should be with your family. And for all the other stuff."
Brendon quirks the side of his mouth up. "What, um. What does that mean?"
"I," Spencer starts. He runs his hand through his hair. "I've never wanted anything like I want you. Not just like-- But, everything. I didn't know what that meant, I guess. And I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you this sooner." He rubs his hands over his eyes and then peeks at Brendon through his fingers. "I know you have to go back. We can just talk later. If that's okay, I mean, if you want to. I'll let you go now."
Brendon pulls his hands away from his face and kisses him firmly. "You want to come meet my family?" he asks.
Spencer nods.
Brendon reaches down to grab his fingers, giving him a quick, tight squeeze, but as they walk down the hall, Spencer doesn't let go.