Coda: Second First
Second First
Rating: PG
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer
Notes: This is based in a Historical AU verse that I am currently writing, wherein Brendon and Spencer are orphans taken in by the Walker family. There is more to it, but that is the main jist of what you need to know. Ryan is a foundling that Spencer's parents took in, and the Walkers inherited. Somehow this all leads to first kisses and the beginnings of pining. (Unbeta'ed)
I finished this for nova33 because she deserves epic amounts of fic written for her, and I miss her terribly.
Spencer cannot help but to sigh when Brendon comes out onto the cool lawn with him. It is nearly dark and Spencer has stretched out on the grass far enough that he cannot see the lights from the house. The lights in the stable have long since gone out, and he looks up at the stars and waits for full dark.
But Brendon does not see the point in his desire to see the stars and to think, especially now when the house is in upheaval. Spencer wishes to smack him for it, as he does most days when Brendon does not wish to understand the simplest of tasks.
"I thought you would be with Jon," Brendon says, and Spencer wants to sigh. Jon is nearly eighteen, and he leaves for university in the morning. The house is turned upside down; Mr. Walker has taken to calling Jon a layabout and Jon seems far too eager to leave.
"I am going to look for constellations." It is too dark to read his books, but he enjoys looking at the stars and being reminded that things go on longer than this house or the fact that he is to be courting in two years time. His stomach gives a lurch at the though.
Brendon stretches out beside him. "Do you think Jon will miss us?"
"Of course he will," Spencer says. He does not know for sure. Jon occasionally acts as if they are both the greatest of pests. "He will miss your noise."
"Yes, perhaps." Brendon sounds as if he is smiling. He is not laying on the blanket, and the ground is damp. His clothing will be muddy; Mrs. Walker will be displeased.
"Jon will be back," he says, and he reaches out to touch Brendon's arm again, "He cannot leave us for long."
"Uncle Michael said we are to call him 'Jonathan,' now. He is to be a man. He'll come back and be married off." Brendon shifts a little. "I can't picture Jon married."
Spencer wrinkles his nose. The Walkers insisted that Jon take him on a few carriage rides that could have been courting if Spencer weren't two years too young to be courted and Jonathan three years too young to be courting. And if he had not been Jon. It was a relief to know that Jon felt the same way.
"We shall be married too," Spencer reminds him primly. "Perhaps before Jonathan."
Brendon makes a small disapproving sound in his throat. "I don't see how that can happen. I've only three more seasons to sit out, and then I can court someone that I might not like or might smell." He nudges Spencer's side. "I hope to do not get courted by someone who does not laugh enough." Brendon sighs, heavy and far too dramatic.
Spencer reaches over and prods Brendon in the arm. "You do not have to stay with someone if they do not amuse you. Courting is about the rest of your life, and you should only court people whose company you enjoy." He nods, once, because that is how Mrs. Walker explained it to him, and he has vague memories of his mother doing the same. He thinks, perhaps, that he would like to be the one courting, but no one ever pays much mind to what he wants. More over, he will not be twenty-one for five years.
"Perhaps. I think the entire practice is silly." Brendon pokes Spencer back. "I envy Ryan."
Spencer makes a face. He cannot say the same, not when Ryan could be forced out of their home and no one in the town would blame Mr. or Mrs. Walker. They have not threatened, outside the time that Spencer broke the dining room window when he was thirteen and Ryan covered. Mrs. Walker let an exasperated, "Ryan Ross, we do not have to keep you," slip.
Ryan had not turned that shade of white since the fire, since they knew Spencer's parents were not going to make it out of bed.
"Do you think most people have, um." Brendon sits up, playing with his fingers in his lap. "Is it common to have experience with..." He waves his hand as if to indicate something, but it only reminds Spencer of saving goodbye. "I mean, before they start courting."
Spencer squints up at the stars. He does not want to have this conversation with Brendon. It feels too strange, like he should want to but that desire is caught up somewhere, like it's stopped just on the slope of Brendon's neck or maybe the way he bites his lip when he plays piano after dinner.
"Spencer?" Brendon asks, after Spencer spends too long quiet.
"What sort of experience?" he asks.
Brendon laughs, higher and more nervous. He should be younger than Spencer. It doesn't seem fair that there are five months between them and Brendon will get to experience being an adult before he will.
"Like kissing, I suppose," Brendon says.
Spencer blinks at him. "Like kissing," he repeats without inflection. His cheeks feel warm; Brendon should be having this conversation with Jonathan. Jonathan is the oldest, and Spencer is pretty sure that he has never let his eyes stray to the way Brendon's back curves when he sits at the piano bench.
Brendon flops back onto the grass. "It's strange, is all. I don't understand how I am to marry someone if I haven't kissed anyone but them or courted anyone else."
"You can court a few people," Spencer says slowly. He closes his eyes. "And it's not that hard to find someone to kiss you." He is not sure if he should add that, as he would not put it past Brendon to go and find one of the kitchen girls for a kiss.
Brendon taps the ground. "Oh?" His voice raises in a teasing lilt, and Spencer knows he is smiling. He does not have to look at it.
Spencer does not respond. Brendon will go away if you ignore him.
"Spencer Smith," Brendon says, and he reaches over to shake Spencer's shoulder. "Have you been kissing without telling me?" He sounds rather shocked, like he cannot imagine anyone would kiss Spencer.
Spencer scowls and sits up, trying to fix his hair with one hand. "I think the entire household has been kissing without telling you," he says, and he cannot help but to be grumpy about it. They should go indoors soon, as it is sort of improper to have this conversation here.
"That is not fair." Brendon sounds nearly scandalized and put-out at the same time. "I expected Jonathan to be kissing, but I did not think you would, Spencer Smith. You are the baby of us. You are supposed to be innocent."
Spencer can hear the faint mocking in Brendon's tone, but the tips of his ears feel warm anyway. "It was just a silly kiss, Brendon. You don't need to be so worried." He reaches out in the dark to pat Brendon's hand.
Brendon flicks Spencer's fingers away and shifts. The slide of his trousers on the grass seems very loud suddenly, and Spencer can feel the flush traveling onto his cheeks.
"You have to tell me who kissed you, you know." Brendon shifts closer, gleam of his wide eyes easy to spot in the starlight. The laughter is gone from his voice.
"I do not." Spencer leans away. He does not like the way Brendon smells like sugar candy and sweat when he leans this close, and Spencer always wonders if he smells that way because he hangs in the kitchen too often, where there is baking and too-hot ovens, or because that is just how Brendon is intended to smell.
"It was Ryan, wasn't it?" Brendon will not let Spencer get away, crowding into his space. "Please tell me that you didn't kiss Ryan?"
Spencer covers his eyes with his hands. He does not answer Brendon because he is not in the habit of lying, not even about kisses shared back by the stables because William had been teasing and Spencer just wanted to know, ones that were too dry and too much like kissing Jonathan would have been.
He hopes that courting will be nothing like that, but he does not tell Brendon.
"Kissing Ryan hardly counts," Brendon says, and he pokes Spencer's shoulder. "He's Ryan."
"I know." Spencer turns his head to the side. "But that is who did it."
"All right." Brendon goes quiet and then he inches closer to Spencer, close enough that his knees tuck into Spencer's side. "I think you should kiss me. That would be more like a real kiss, I think, and then I could know what it feels like, too."
Spencer sits up and tries to back away from Brendon, but Brendon pushes close and their mouths brush. He does not expect it to be the same as it was with Ryan, but he did not think it would be this different, the sort of shiver-spark that trills up his spine before Brendon tilts his head and they are kissing again.
He curls his hand in the fabric of Brendon's shirt, holding him there, and Brendon's breathing stutters before he is pushing his tongue against Spencer's mouth. Spencer should wrinkle his nose and pull back, but he does not. He opens his mouth instead, and he knows now that Brendon has been eating cookies from the kitchen.
It is not too-dry, and Brendon makes soft noises when Spencer pulls back. His hand is in Spencer's hair, grip a little too tight. His heart feels too big in his chest, and it is nothing like Ryan's kiss. He feels like that kiss was a false start, that it was a fairy tale and this is real because there is cool grass under his palm and Brendon's shirt under his other hand.
"Spencer--" Brendon says, voice strange and deep.
Spencer wants to kiss him again, except that he can hear Mr. Walker calling for them. It is fully dark, and he cannot see Brendon's face anymore. He can feel him breathing, breath hot on Spencer's face. "We need to go inside," he says instead of what he wants to say or do.
"Yes. It must be nearly time for bed." Brendon pulls back, taking his hand out of Spencer's hair and Spencer has to drop his hand from Brendon's shirt.
Spencer nods and stands. He does not say "And now you have been kissed" or anything like it, because he cannot talk to Brendon now. He knows enough about class and social status to know that he cannot kiss Brendon again, because Brendon's father was a younger son. Spencer's father went to university and had estates and a summer home on a lake somewhere that Spencer has not seen since he was nine.
It does not stop him from licking his own lips and trying to remember how they taste, though. He cannot bring himself to scrub away the taste with his shirt sleeve like he did after Ryan's kiss.
He cannot tell what Brendon does, but he does not hear the furious scrape of cloth over skin.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer
Notes: This is based in a Historical AU verse that I am currently writing, wherein Brendon and Spencer are orphans taken in by the Walker family. There is more to it, but that is the main jist of what you need to know. Ryan is a foundling that Spencer's parents took in, and the Walkers inherited. Somehow this all leads to first kisses and the beginnings of pining. (Unbeta'ed)
I finished this for nova33 because she deserves epic amounts of fic written for her, and I miss her terribly.
Spencer cannot help but to sigh when Brendon comes out onto the cool lawn with him. It is nearly dark and Spencer has stretched out on the grass far enough that he cannot see the lights from the house. The lights in the stable have long since gone out, and he looks up at the stars and waits for full dark.
But Brendon does not see the point in his desire to see the stars and to think, especially now when the house is in upheaval. Spencer wishes to smack him for it, as he does most days when Brendon does not wish to understand the simplest of tasks.
"I thought you would be with Jon," Brendon says, and Spencer wants to sigh. Jon is nearly eighteen, and he leaves for university in the morning. The house is turned upside down; Mr. Walker has taken to calling Jon a layabout and Jon seems far too eager to leave.
"I am going to look for constellations." It is too dark to read his books, but he enjoys looking at the stars and being reminded that things go on longer than this house or the fact that he is to be courting in two years time. His stomach gives a lurch at the though.
Brendon stretches out beside him. "Do you think Jon will miss us?"
"Of course he will," Spencer says. He does not know for sure. Jon occasionally acts as if they are both the greatest of pests. "He will miss your noise."
"Yes, perhaps." Brendon sounds as if he is smiling. He is not laying on the blanket, and the ground is damp. His clothing will be muddy; Mrs. Walker will be displeased.
"Jon will be back," he says, and he reaches out to touch Brendon's arm again, "He cannot leave us for long."
"Uncle Michael said we are to call him 'Jonathan,' now. He is to be a man. He'll come back and be married off." Brendon shifts a little. "I can't picture Jon married."
Spencer wrinkles his nose. The Walkers insisted that Jon take him on a few carriage rides that could have been courting if Spencer weren't two years too young to be courted and Jonathan three years too young to be courting. And if he had not been Jon. It was a relief to know that Jon felt the same way.
"We shall be married too," Spencer reminds him primly. "Perhaps before Jonathan."
Brendon makes a small disapproving sound in his throat. "I don't see how that can happen. I've only three more seasons to sit out, and then I can court someone that I might not like or might smell." He nudges Spencer's side. "I hope to do not get courted by someone who does not laugh enough." Brendon sighs, heavy and far too dramatic.
Spencer reaches over and prods Brendon in the arm. "You do not have to stay with someone if they do not amuse you. Courting is about the rest of your life, and you should only court people whose company you enjoy." He nods, once, because that is how Mrs. Walker explained it to him, and he has vague memories of his mother doing the same. He thinks, perhaps, that he would like to be the one courting, but no one ever pays much mind to what he wants. More over, he will not be twenty-one for five years.
"Perhaps. I think the entire practice is silly." Brendon pokes Spencer back. "I envy Ryan."
Spencer makes a face. He cannot say the same, not when Ryan could be forced out of their home and no one in the town would blame Mr. or Mrs. Walker. They have not threatened, outside the time that Spencer broke the dining room window when he was thirteen and Ryan covered. Mrs. Walker let an exasperated, "Ryan Ross, we do not have to keep you," slip.
Ryan had not turned that shade of white since the fire, since they knew Spencer's parents were not going to make it out of bed.
"Do you think most people have, um." Brendon sits up, playing with his fingers in his lap. "Is it common to have experience with..." He waves his hand as if to indicate something, but it only reminds Spencer of saving goodbye. "I mean, before they start courting."
Spencer squints up at the stars. He does not want to have this conversation with Brendon. It feels too strange, like he should want to but that desire is caught up somewhere, like it's stopped just on the slope of Brendon's neck or maybe the way he bites his lip when he plays piano after dinner.
"Spencer?" Brendon asks, after Spencer spends too long quiet.
"What sort of experience?" he asks.
Brendon laughs, higher and more nervous. He should be younger than Spencer. It doesn't seem fair that there are five months between them and Brendon will get to experience being an adult before he will.
"Like kissing, I suppose," Brendon says.
Spencer blinks at him. "Like kissing," he repeats without inflection. His cheeks feel warm; Brendon should be having this conversation with Jonathan. Jonathan is the oldest, and Spencer is pretty sure that he has never let his eyes stray to the way Brendon's back curves when he sits at the piano bench.
Brendon flops back onto the grass. "It's strange, is all. I don't understand how I am to marry someone if I haven't kissed anyone but them or courted anyone else."
"You can court a few people," Spencer says slowly. He closes his eyes. "And it's not that hard to find someone to kiss you." He is not sure if he should add that, as he would not put it past Brendon to go and find one of the kitchen girls for a kiss.
Brendon taps the ground. "Oh?" His voice raises in a teasing lilt, and Spencer knows he is smiling. He does not have to look at it.
Spencer does not respond. Brendon will go away if you ignore him.
"Spencer Smith," Brendon says, and he reaches over to shake Spencer's shoulder. "Have you been kissing without telling me?" He sounds rather shocked, like he cannot imagine anyone would kiss Spencer.
Spencer scowls and sits up, trying to fix his hair with one hand. "I think the entire household has been kissing without telling you," he says, and he cannot help but to be grumpy about it. They should go indoors soon, as it is sort of improper to have this conversation here.
"That is not fair." Brendon sounds nearly scandalized and put-out at the same time. "I expected Jonathan to be kissing, but I did not think you would, Spencer Smith. You are the baby of us. You are supposed to be innocent."
Spencer can hear the faint mocking in Brendon's tone, but the tips of his ears feel warm anyway. "It was just a silly kiss, Brendon. You don't need to be so worried." He reaches out in the dark to pat Brendon's hand.
Brendon flicks Spencer's fingers away and shifts. The slide of his trousers on the grass seems very loud suddenly, and Spencer can feel the flush traveling onto his cheeks.
"You have to tell me who kissed you, you know." Brendon shifts closer, gleam of his wide eyes easy to spot in the starlight. The laughter is gone from his voice.
"I do not." Spencer leans away. He does not like the way Brendon smells like sugar candy and sweat when he leans this close, and Spencer always wonders if he smells that way because he hangs in the kitchen too often, where there is baking and too-hot ovens, or because that is just how Brendon is intended to smell.
"It was Ryan, wasn't it?" Brendon will not let Spencer get away, crowding into his space. "Please tell me that you didn't kiss Ryan?"
Spencer covers his eyes with his hands. He does not answer Brendon because he is not in the habit of lying, not even about kisses shared back by the stables because William had been teasing and Spencer just wanted to know, ones that were too dry and too much like kissing Jonathan would have been.
He hopes that courting will be nothing like that, but he does not tell Brendon.
"Kissing Ryan hardly counts," Brendon says, and he pokes Spencer's shoulder. "He's Ryan."
"I know." Spencer turns his head to the side. "But that is who did it."
"All right." Brendon goes quiet and then he inches closer to Spencer, close enough that his knees tuck into Spencer's side. "I think you should kiss me. That would be more like a real kiss, I think, and then I could know what it feels like, too."
Spencer sits up and tries to back away from Brendon, but Brendon pushes close and their mouths brush. He does not expect it to be the same as it was with Ryan, but he did not think it would be this different, the sort of shiver-spark that trills up his spine before Brendon tilts his head and they are kissing again.
He curls his hand in the fabric of Brendon's shirt, holding him there, and Brendon's breathing stutters before he is pushing his tongue against Spencer's mouth. Spencer should wrinkle his nose and pull back, but he does not. He opens his mouth instead, and he knows now that Brendon has been eating cookies from the kitchen.
It is not too-dry, and Brendon makes soft noises when Spencer pulls back. His hand is in Spencer's hair, grip a little too tight. His heart feels too big in his chest, and it is nothing like Ryan's kiss. He feels like that kiss was a false start, that it was a fairy tale and this is real because there is cool grass under his palm and Brendon's shirt under his other hand.
"Spencer--" Brendon says, voice strange and deep.
Spencer wants to kiss him again, except that he can hear Mr. Walker calling for them. It is fully dark, and he cannot see Brendon's face anymore. He can feel him breathing, breath hot on Spencer's face. "We need to go inside," he says instead of what he wants to say or do.
"Yes. It must be nearly time for bed." Brendon pulls back, taking his hand out of Spencer's hair and Spencer has to drop his hand from Brendon's shirt.
Spencer nods and stands. He does not say "And now you have been kissed" or anything like it, because he cannot talk to Brendon now. He knows enough about class and social status to know that he cannot kiss Brendon again, because Brendon's father was a younger son. Spencer's father went to university and had estates and a summer home on a lake somewhere that Spencer has not seen since he was nine.
It does not stop him from licking his own lips and trying to remember how they taste, though. He cannot bring himself to scrub away the taste with his shirt sleeve like he did after Ryan's kiss.
He cannot tell what Brendon does, but he does not hear the furious scrape of cloth over skin.