Fic: Tighten
Tighten
by: helena_star
pairing: Brendon/Spencer (Panic! at the Disco)
summary: Written for this prompt. Braces. Brendon gets them. Spencer has feelings.
disclaimer: not mine.
notes: I haven't ficced in years. Forgive me. This is un-edited and un-beta'd and I just wanted to get this posted before I lost my nerve. If it sucks, we'll just pretend it never happened, okay? Okay.
It had taken Spencer ages to get over his whole staring-at-Brendon thing. Ages. There'd been an intervention by Ryan--if shoving him down on the sofa and ranting about his "stupid obsession ruining the band!" and "for the love of all that is holy, shut up about his mouth!" counted as an intervention anyway.
But he had. He'd gotten over it. And Spencer was oddly proud of himself that he was now able to make it through an entire practice without getting caught up with watching Brendon and losing the beat. He'd even stopped dropping his drumsticks when Brendon turned around to smile at him.
He'd been making fucking STRIDES.
So, when Brendon had ducked into the garage a month ago all quiet a month ago--or as quiet as Brendon could manage, anyway--his hands twisting in the pockets of his hoodie, and his lips all swollen...well...
It was a little humiliating that Spencer had reverted back to full-on drumstick-dropping distraction because of BRACES, of all things.
Ryan had laughed his ass off, before pinning him with a look and saying far too seriously, "don't fuck up the band."
So, yeah, it wasn't like Spencer was TRYING to fuck up the band. He was just...distracted.
Because apparently he hadn't been imagining Brendon's mouth ENOUGH when he'd been jerking off to the thought of it night after night, and now there was nothing else he could think about because all the braces did was make Brendon's lips look bigger. And he kept running his tongue over them, as if he was testing out the feel of the metal, and all that did was make Spencer stare and stare and stare.
It was embarrassing.
Braces shouldn't be hot.
Clearly there was something wrong with him.
*****
Brendon's mouth was moving. And that fact alone had managed to distract Spencer enough to
forget that Brendon was talking. To HIM.
Crap.
"Sorry?" he said, shrugging. "I kind of spaced. What were you saying?"
Brendon just huffed out a laugh and shook his head.
"Where are the others? They're late," he said, dropping his backpack to the floor of the garage.
Spencer's brow crinkled.
"Didn't Ryan call you?" he asked. "Practice was canceled."
"What?"
"Yeah, he said he had to work," Spencer said. Likely story. More often than not "working" meant "making out". Life was more than a little unfair.
Brendon groaned, rolling his eyes to the ceiling as he reached into his jeans to pull out his phone. This gave Spencer a view, not only of Brendon's neck--which he wanted to bite at the best of times--but also of Brendon's hand sliding down into the denim of his jeans.
Also, groaning. Enough said.
Spencer was more than a little glad that he was sitting behind the kit at the moment, his own pants feeling a little tight.
"Crap," Brendon muttered, punching the buttons on his cellphone with his thumbs. "Four missed calls. Awesome."
He gave a button one last aggrivated push before turning back to Spencer.
"So, what now?"
*****
"What now?" ended up being Brendon following him into the house, muttering about late buses and what a loser Ryan was to ditch them, and how stupid braces were.
Apparently he'd missed the calls because he'd been getting his braces tightened. And listening to Brendon talk about how sore his jaw was, and about the guy's fingers in his mouth really wasn't helping Spencer to not fuck up the band, because he was pretty sure he wasn't picturing it the way it had happened, and all he wanted to do at the moment was shove Brendon up against his bedroom door and maul him.
In a good way.
At least, SPENCER thought it was good.
So now they were sitting in his living room, flipping back and forth between Zoolander on one channel and a documentary on penguins on another.
"Can I ask you a question?" Brendon asked from his sprawled position next to Spencer on the sofa.
Spencer nodded, trying to drag his gaze away from Brendon's lips and back up to his eyes ke a normal person.
"Do my braces really look that stupid?"
What?
"What?"
Brendon ran his tongue over his lips again, wetting them.
"You keep staring at my mouth."
Crap.
"Um,"
Brendon sighs. "It's okay," he says, leaning back further into the couch. He looks all small and sad and Spencer has no fucking idea what he should do. He wants to flail and hide and kiss him all at the same ti--
Huh.
Apparently he chose the kissing.
Brendon lets out a whimper and Spencer jerks back. He's pretty sure he looks about as stunned as Brendon does right now.
"Crap," he says, remembering what Brendon said about getting his braces tightened. "Did I hurt you?"
Brendon's eyes are huge and dark and unblinking, and Spencer feels his heart stutter in his chest as panic sets in.
Brendon licks his lips and then they're all glossy and swollen and wet again and Spencer's staring and staring and staring.
"Yeah," Brendon whispers, reaching up and tangling his fingers in Spencer's hair. "You did."
His fingers tighten in the strands and Spencer feels himself being tugged closer.
"Do it again."
fin
by: helena_star
pairing: Brendon/Spencer (Panic! at the Disco)
summary: Written for this prompt. Braces. Brendon gets them. Spencer has feelings.
disclaimer: not mine.
notes: I haven't ficced in years. Forgive me. This is un-edited and un-beta'd and I just wanted to get this posted before I lost my nerve. If it sucks, we'll just pretend it never happened, okay? Okay.
It had taken Spencer ages to get over his whole staring-at-Brendon thing. Ages. There'd been an intervention by Ryan--if shoving him down on the sofa and ranting about his "stupid obsession ruining the band!" and "for the love of all that is holy, shut up about his mouth!" counted as an intervention anyway.
But he had. He'd gotten over it. And Spencer was oddly proud of himself that he was now able to make it through an entire practice without getting caught up with watching Brendon and losing the beat. He'd even stopped dropping his drumsticks when Brendon turned around to smile at him.
He'd been making fucking STRIDES.
So, when Brendon had ducked into the garage a month ago all quiet a month ago--or as quiet as Brendon could manage, anyway--his hands twisting in the pockets of his hoodie, and his lips all swollen...well...
It was a little humiliating that Spencer had reverted back to full-on drumstick-dropping distraction because of BRACES, of all things.
Ryan had laughed his ass off, before pinning him with a look and saying far too seriously, "don't fuck up the band."
So, yeah, it wasn't like Spencer was TRYING to fuck up the band. He was just...distracted.
Because apparently he hadn't been imagining Brendon's mouth ENOUGH when he'd been jerking off to the thought of it night after night, and now there was nothing else he could think about because all the braces did was make Brendon's lips look bigger. And he kept running his tongue over them, as if he was testing out the feel of the metal, and all that did was make Spencer stare and stare and stare.
It was embarrassing.
Braces shouldn't be hot.
Clearly there was something wrong with him.
*****
Brendon's mouth was moving. And that fact alone had managed to distract Spencer enough to
forget that Brendon was talking. To HIM.
Crap.
"Sorry?" he said, shrugging. "I kind of spaced. What were you saying?"
Brendon just huffed out a laugh and shook his head.
"Where are the others? They're late," he said, dropping his backpack to the floor of the garage.
Spencer's brow crinkled.
"Didn't Ryan call you?" he asked. "Practice was canceled."
"What?"
"Yeah, he said he had to work," Spencer said. Likely story. More often than not "working" meant "making out". Life was more than a little unfair.
Brendon groaned, rolling his eyes to the ceiling as he reached into his jeans to pull out his phone. This gave Spencer a view, not only of Brendon's neck--which he wanted to bite at the best of times--but also of Brendon's hand sliding down into the denim of his jeans.
Also, groaning. Enough said.
Spencer was more than a little glad that he was sitting behind the kit at the moment, his own pants feeling a little tight.
"Crap," Brendon muttered, punching the buttons on his cellphone with his thumbs. "Four missed calls. Awesome."
He gave a button one last aggrivated push before turning back to Spencer.
"So, what now?"
*****
"What now?" ended up being Brendon following him into the house, muttering about late buses and what a loser Ryan was to ditch them, and how stupid braces were.
Apparently he'd missed the calls because he'd been getting his braces tightened. And listening to Brendon talk about how sore his jaw was, and about the guy's fingers in his mouth really wasn't helping Spencer to not fuck up the band, because he was pretty sure he wasn't picturing it the way it had happened, and all he wanted to do at the moment was shove Brendon up against his bedroom door and maul him.
In a good way.
At least, SPENCER thought it was good.
So now they were sitting in his living room, flipping back and forth between Zoolander on one channel and a documentary on penguins on another.
"Can I ask you a question?" Brendon asked from his sprawled position next to Spencer on the sofa.
Spencer nodded, trying to drag his gaze away from Brendon's lips and back up to his eyes ke a normal person.
"Do my braces really look that stupid?"
What?
"What?"
Brendon ran his tongue over his lips again, wetting them.
"You keep staring at my mouth."
Crap.
"Um,"
Brendon sighs. "It's okay," he says, leaning back further into the couch. He looks all small and sad and Spencer has no fucking idea what he should do. He wants to flail and hide and kiss him all at the same ti--
Huh.
Apparently he chose the kissing.
Brendon lets out a whimper and Spencer jerks back. He's pretty sure he looks about as stunned as Brendon does right now.
"Crap," he says, remembering what Brendon said about getting his braces tightened. "Did I hurt you?"
Brendon's eyes are huge and dark and unblinking, and Spencer feels his heart stutter in his chest as panic sets in.
Brendon licks his lips and then they're all glossy and swollen and wet again and Spencer's staring and staring and staring.
"Yeah," Brendon whispers, reaching up and tangling his fingers in Spencer's hair. "You did."
His fingers tighten in the strands and Spencer feels himself being tugged closer.
"Do it again."
fin