Fic: Paradoxes Are So Two Years Ago
Paradoxes Are So Two Years Ago
[Jon/Spencer, 1600 words, NC-17]
"Future?" Jon asks, scrunching up his face a little, and oh god. Spencer melts a little inside. "You're from the future?"
Sequel to adellyna's brilliant Fuck the Paradox. Time travel revolution, bb! ♥
The first thing Spencer thinks is Jesus, he's so fucking small. The second thing he thinks as he watches Jon's eyes widen is Jesus, his face.
It's not that he's not used to looking at the top of Jon's head, or seeing him clean-shaven. But this Jon - past-Jon, the Jon that's actually a year younger than him - is so innocent-looking, it freaks Spencer out.
Maybe this wasn't such a hot idea.
"Future?" Jon asks, scrunching up his face a little, and oh god. Spencer melts a little inside. "You're from the future?"
"Yeah. A couple years or so." Jon is chewing his lower lip, looking completely baffled, and his eyes are just. Really big and pretty and since when were his lashes so fucking long? "You're in a band with me."
Said big, pretty eyes flare. "I'm in a band again? Like, for real?"
See, the whole point of this little adventure was to let Spencer get a little payback on Jon for going back and taunting Spencer's past self into admitting he'd always wanted to have dirty monkey sex with him from the moment they met. Spencer figured the easiest way would be to go taunt past-Jon, the Jon that had yet to meet him, with hints of what wouldn't be coming to him for at least a year.
But he can't - Jon's blinking at him, his hair all soft and scruffy, wearing some beaten-up blue t-shirt that's seen better days, and he just looks so small and young and...
Spencer doesn't have it in him to taunt. All he wants to do is kiss the shit out of him and rub his face against that soft belly he knows is waiting there, under that t-shirt.
He'd pulled Jon away from Bill and the others as they'd jumped off the bus, and now they're huddled in the shadows of the parking lot, the early autumn night air just cool enough to make Spencer shiver.
"Yeah, for real."
Jon leans back against the bus and sighs wistfully. Then he promptly lifts his head and narrows his eyes at Spencer. "Why are you here?"
"I..." He doesn't really know how to put taunt you sexually so I can get even with the future you into words. Instead, he says, "You don't know me yet, but when you do, you'll want me. Bad."
Jon lifts an eyebrow. "Wow, did Bill put you up to this?"
Spencer finally smirks. "You wish. In about, oh, four months from now, the Academy's gonna tour with us, and you'll think you're being all stealthy and shit with your crush on me, but it'll really just be kind of sad and adorable."
"Wait a sec." Jon crosses his arms over his chest (a little narrower than it is two years from now) and tries to look pissed. He really just looks confused. "Um, first off, I'm straight, so. Pretty sure I'm not gonna be chasing after you or anything."
And that makes Spencer laugh. Hard. Because really, how long has Jon been sharing a bus with Bill Beckett? "Whatever, keep telling yourself that. I know things about you that would make you believe me."
Jon spreads his hands out in front of him. "Such as?"
Spencer licks his lips and takes a step forward, closer, closer still until he's practically pressed against Jon. He hears the slight catch in Jon's breathing, sees the way his eyes dip down to Spencer's mouth before looking away.
"How 'bout the way your lisp comes out more when you're drunk, or the way you talk about your cat like he's your own kid, or the way your face lit up the first time Ryan asked you to write lyrics with him." Spencer leans in as the words fade into a whisper, until his mouth is brushing over the curve of Jon's ear. "Or the maybe the way you stare at my mouth when you're desperate to fuck me and know you can't at the moment."
A quick, tight breath whooshes out of Jon, and Spencer smiles against his jaw. "Yeah, you breathe like that some nights when I call from Vegas and tell you how fucking badly I need to be with you."
"S-Spencer, I - "
He pulls back, takes in Jon's expression; his eyes closed, lips wet and parted, his cheeks smooth, so smooth, and Spencer finally gives in. He kisses Jon's cheek, nuzzles his lips against skin that would normally be covered in soft beard, and then he can't hold back. He licks into Jon's open mouth, kissing him slow and deep, and Jon makes a high-pitched whimper in his throat, something Spencer's Jon would never do, not unless he was beyond desperate. He tastes different, yet the same; traces of whiskey and beer mingling together with something that's always uniquely Jon, and yet he kisses a little too fast, a little too eager.
Spencer slows him down, sucking gently at his lip. "Easy," he says, and the loud thunk of Jon's head hitting the side of the bus makes him grin. It also makes him think that fucking this Jon Walker - wide-eyed, frat boy Jon with the soft belly that Spencer just so happens to be splaying his hand over - is probably not a bad idea, really.
"So, you believe me?" Spencer says, mumbled into Jon's mouth.
Jon's trying not to paw at Spencer, trying to keep his hands to his sides and failing horrendously. "Um," he replies, and it dissolves into a groan when Spencer shifts his hips and grinds against him. "Um, maybe?"
Excellent. He slides his over Jon's fly and flicks the top button open. "Okay, so turn around."
"Um - "
He kisses the corner of Jon's mouth. "Trust me," he whispers, and Jon's shaking so hard, it's somehow sweet and so fucking hot all at once.
Jon turns, spreads his hands over the slick metal siding of the tour bus. He gasps a little when Spencer kicks his legs apart and jerks his jeans and boxers down his legs to his ankles.
Spencer...did not exactly plan on going this far, so he's sadly bereft of any sort of lube. He didn't think he'd need to improvise with past-Jon, but oh well. He'll manage.
The weirdest part is when Spencer goes to his knees and licks a long, slow stripe over the crack of Jon's ass, and Jon yells, "What?!" Spencer goes so hard, he has to pause with a hand pressed to his crotch; to think that Jon was the one to initiate Spencer into rimming. God.
"Spencer, no, I - "
Spencer licks him again, only this time he dips inside, hands spreading Jon a little, and any protest Jon had abruptly dies on a long, breathless moan. Past-Jon is, evidently, pretty fucking easy, because Spencer's Jon would never give in so soon. He'd make Spencer work for it.
He goes harder, deeper, and almost groans himself when Jon's hips start to canter back. Jon's mumbling half words, profanity mixed with awe-tinged praise, and god yes, Spencer's glad he did this.
He finally pulls back and spits into his hand, tearing into his jeans. Spencer stands up, slow enough to drag the wet tip of his cock over the curve of Jon's ass before his body is fitted right up against Jon. "So, I'm gonna fuck you know, okay?" he says right before sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of Jon's neck, and Jon bucks against him and whimpers something that sounds like please.
Spencer doesn't go easy, even when he knows he should, even when he knows this Jon probably hasn't had sex like this before and will more than likely be laying on his side for a few days. But he just. It's still Jon, only smaller and softer, tighter, and when he looks over his shoulder at Spencer, his eyes are so wide and dark, pupils blown.
He pounds into him, slamming their bodies into the side of the Academy's tour bus and not really caring if anyone hears. Jon is begging - "Oh fuck, yes, Spencer" - and it's not in that growly voice Spencer loves; instead, it's cracked, high-pitched, uneven and uncontrolled, and Spencer might almost love it just as much, if not more.
"Please, please...fuck - " Jon's clawing at the bus, knuckles white. "I need you - I need you to touch me, Spencer, please, god - "
Spencer loves it when he asks.
He slides his hand around, the one not digging a bruise into Jon's hip, and thumbs the slit of Jon's cock, hot and slick. Jon whimpers tightly and thrusts into Spencer's hand, only to shift and push his hips back, impaling Spencer deeper. If Spencer weren't losing his mind he'd laugh, because Jon wants this and he's so fucking obvious.
Jon comes first, shuddering and crying out, "Oh my god," as he spills hotly over Spencer's hand. He clenches around Spencer, and it only takes a few seconds before Spencer's pretty much done. He buries his face into Jon's neck and comes for hours, seriously. He's surprised he's still conscious when it's all over.
"So..." Jon turns his head and smiles faintly, cheeks flushed and damp with sweat. "I, uh." He really can't stop staring at Spencer's mouth, which, okay. It's ridiculously adorable.
Spencer kisses his chin. "Yeah, you're still a decent lay, if that's what you're wondering." I love you, y'know, he thinks, but doesn't say out loud. He's done enough convincing for one day.
[Jon/Spencer, 1600 words, NC-17]
"Future?" Jon asks, scrunching up his face a little, and oh god. Spencer melts a little inside. "You're from the future?"
Sequel to adellyna's brilliant Fuck the Paradox. Time travel revolution, bb! ♥
The first thing Spencer thinks is Jesus, he's so fucking small. The second thing he thinks as he watches Jon's eyes widen is Jesus, his face.
It's not that he's not used to looking at the top of Jon's head, or seeing him clean-shaven. But this Jon - past-Jon, the Jon that's actually a year younger than him - is so innocent-looking, it freaks Spencer out.
Maybe this wasn't such a hot idea.
"Future?" Jon asks, scrunching up his face a little, and oh god. Spencer melts a little inside. "You're from the future?"
"Yeah. A couple years or so." Jon is chewing his lower lip, looking completely baffled, and his eyes are just. Really big and pretty and since when were his lashes so fucking long? "You're in a band with me."
Said big, pretty eyes flare. "I'm in a band again? Like, for real?"
See, the whole point of this little adventure was to let Spencer get a little payback on Jon for going back and taunting Spencer's past self into admitting he'd always wanted to have dirty monkey sex with him from the moment they met. Spencer figured the easiest way would be to go taunt past-Jon, the Jon that had yet to meet him, with hints of what wouldn't be coming to him for at least a year.
But he can't - Jon's blinking at him, his hair all soft and scruffy, wearing some beaten-up blue t-shirt that's seen better days, and he just looks so small and young and...
Spencer doesn't have it in him to taunt. All he wants to do is kiss the shit out of him and rub his face against that soft belly he knows is waiting there, under that t-shirt.
He'd pulled Jon away from Bill and the others as they'd jumped off the bus, and now they're huddled in the shadows of the parking lot, the early autumn night air just cool enough to make Spencer shiver.
"Yeah, for real."
Jon leans back against the bus and sighs wistfully. Then he promptly lifts his head and narrows his eyes at Spencer. "Why are you here?"
"I..." He doesn't really know how to put taunt you sexually so I can get even with the future you into words. Instead, he says, "You don't know me yet, but when you do, you'll want me. Bad."
Jon lifts an eyebrow. "Wow, did Bill put you up to this?"
Spencer finally smirks. "You wish. In about, oh, four months from now, the Academy's gonna tour with us, and you'll think you're being all stealthy and shit with your crush on me, but it'll really just be kind of sad and adorable."
"Wait a sec." Jon crosses his arms over his chest (a little narrower than it is two years from now) and tries to look pissed. He really just looks confused. "Um, first off, I'm straight, so. Pretty sure I'm not gonna be chasing after you or anything."
And that makes Spencer laugh. Hard. Because really, how long has Jon been sharing a bus with Bill Beckett? "Whatever, keep telling yourself that. I know things about you that would make you believe me."
Jon spreads his hands out in front of him. "Such as?"
Spencer licks his lips and takes a step forward, closer, closer still until he's practically pressed against Jon. He hears the slight catch in Jon's breathing, sees the way his eyes dip down to Spencer's mouth before looking away.
"How 'bout the way your lisp comes out more when you're drunk, or the way you talk about your cat like he's your own kid, or the way your face lit up the first time Ryan asked you to write lyrics with him." Spencer leans in as the words fade into a whisper, until his mouth is brushing over the curve of Jon's ear. "Or the maybe the way you stare at my mouth when you're desperate to fuck me and know you can't at the moment."
A quick, tight breath whooshes out of Jon, and Spencer smiles against his jaw. "Yeah, you breathe like that some nights when I call from Vegas and tell you how fucking badly I need to be with you."
"S-Spencer, I - "
He pulls back, takes in Jon's expression; his eyes closed, lips wet and parted, his cheeks smooth, so smooth, and Spencer finally gives in. He kisses Jon's cheek, nuzzles his lips against skin that would normally be covered in soft beard, and then he can't hold back. He licks into Jon's open mouth, kissing him slow and deep, and Jon makes a high-pitched whimper in his throat, something Spencer's Jon would never do, not unless he was beyond desperate. He tastes different, yet the same; traces of whiskey and beer mingling together with something that's always uniquely Jon, and yet he kisses a little too fast, a little too eager.
Spencer slows him down, sucking gently at his lip. "Easy," he says, and the loud thunk of Jon's head hitting the side of the bus makes him grin. It also makes him think that fucking this Jon Walker - wide-eyed, frat boy Jon with the soft belly that Spencer just so happens to be splaying his hand over - is probably not a bad idea, really.
"So, you believe me?" Spencer says, mumbled into Jon's mouth.
Jon's trying not to paw at Spencer, trying to keep his hands to his sides and failing horrendously. "Um," he replies, and it dissolves into a groan when Spencer shifts his hips and grinds against him. "Um, maybe?"
Excellent. He slides his over Jon's fly and flicks the top button open. "Okay, so turn around."
"Um - "
He kisses the corner of Jon's mouth. "Trust me," he whispers, and Jon's shaking so hard, it's somehow sweet and so fucking hot all at once.
Jon turns, spreads his hands over the slick metal siding of the tour bus. He gasps a little when Spencer kicks his legs apart and jerks his jeans and boxers down his legs to his ankles.
Spencer...did not exactly plan on going this far, so he's sadly bereft of any sort of lube. He didn't think he'd need to improvise with past-Jon, but oh well. He'll manage.
The weirdest part is when Spencer goes to his knees and licks a long, slow stripe over the crack of Jon's ass, and Jon yells, "What?!" Spencer goes so hard, he has to pause with a hand pressed to his crotch; to think that Jon was the one to initiate Spencer into rimming. God.
"Spencer, no, I - "
Spencer licks him again, only this time he dips inside, hands spreading Jon a little, and any protest Jon had abruptly dies on a long, breathless moan. Past-Jon is, evidently, pretty fucking easy, because Spencer's Jon would never give in so soon. He'd make Spencer work for it.
He goes harder, deeper, and almost groans himself when Jon's hips start to canter back. Jon's mumbling half words, profanity mixed with awe-tinged praise, and god yes, Spencer's glad he did this.
He finally pulls back and spits into his hand, tearing into his jeans. Spencer stands up, slow enough to drag the wet tip of his cock over the curve of Jon's ass before his body is fitted right up against Jon. "So, I'm gonna fuck you know, okay?" he says right before sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of Jon's neck, and Jon bucks against him and whimpers something that sounds like please.
Spencer doesn't go easy, even when he knows he should, even when he knows this Jon probably hasn't had sex like this before and will more than likely be laying on his side for a few days. But he just. It's still Jon, only smaller and softer, tighter, and when he looks over his shoulder at Spencer, his eyes are so wide and dark, pupils blown.
He pounds into him, slamming their bodies into the side of the Academy's tour bus and not really caring if anyone hears. Jon is begging - "Oh fuck, yes, Spencer" - and it's not in that growly voice Spencer loves; instead, it's cracked, high-pitched, uneven and uncontrolled, and Spencer might almost love it just as much, if not more.
"Please, please...fuck - " Jon's clawing at the bus, knuckles white. "I need you - I need you to touch me, Spencer, please, god - "
Spencer loves it when he asks.
He slides his hand around, the one not digging a bruise into Jon's hip, and thumbs the slit of Jon's cock, hot and slick. Jon whimpers tightly and thrusts into Spencer's hand, only to shift and push his hips back, impaling Spencer deeper. If Spencer weren't losing his mind he'd laugh, because Jon wants this and he's so fucking obvious.
Jon comes first, shuddering and crying out, "Oh my god," as he spills hotly over Spencer's hand. He clenches around Spencer, and it only takes a few seconds before Spencer's pretty much done. He buries his face into Jon's neck and comes for hours, seriously. He's surprised he's still conscious when it's all over.
"So..." Jon turns his head and smiles faintly, cheeks flushed and damp with sweat. "I, uh." He really can't stop staring at Spencer's mouth, which, okay. It's ridiculously adorable.
Spencer kisses his chin. "Yeah, you're still a decent lay, if that's what you're wondering." I love you, y'know, he thinks, but doesn't say out loud. He's done enough convincing for one day.