Different Ways to Get to Where We Are (3/3), Ryan/Brendon, NC-17
Part Two
Epilogue
Spencer
“Shut up,” Spencer said, throwing his arm over his eyes.
Jon snickered and tucked his face against Spencer’s throat, his grin pressing into Spencer’s skin.
“You thought I was dating Brendon,” Jon said for, like, the fiftieth time in the twelve hours since Spencer’s utter humiliation.
“I said shut up,” Spencer said.
“Brendon,” Jon repeated, and Spencer sighed explosively before rolling over and pinning Jon to the bed. He got the impression from Jon’s huge grin that he had succeeded only because Jon let him.
“Stop talking about Brendon.” He pressed Jon’s wrists into the mattress and glared.
“How could I?” Jon asked, looking perfectly relaxed. “I’m just so in love with him that nothing else matters. Oh, Brendon, Brendon, Bren…”
Spencer mashed his lips against Jon’s in a messy, inelegant kiss that he quickly lost control of when Jon surged up and slicked his tongue into Spencer’s mouth.
“Fuck,” Spencer panted when they broke apart.
“Yeah,” Jon agreed, reaching up and cupping the side of Spencer’s neck. “Spencer Smith, is life with you always going to be this complicated?”
“Probably,” he admitted, wincing. “Sorry.”
"No, no. Now that I know what to expect, I kind of like it. Then again, maybe I just like you. You could tell me you were a cannibal and I'd look up recipes online to make for you. I have it under good authority that human flesh tastes excellent with a nice Chianti."
The last part was said with in a truly horrible Hannibal Lector voice, and Spencer laughed, half-hysterical at the relief washing over him.
"That's...really fucking disgusting, Walker."
“Whatever, it’s only the truth.” He looked up at Spencer, and his smile faded into something more somber. “I have to ask you something serious though.”
Spencer leaned back against his heels and braced himself. “Okay.”
“Just…” Jon said, his gaze darting nervously back and forth between Spencer’s eyes to the wall behind him. “How would you feel about wearing brown contacts?”
Spencer froze a second before grabbing a pillow and smacking Jon with it. “I hate you! You’re such a bastard!”
Jon laughed hysterically as he covered his face with his arms to protect himself from Spencer’s blows. “What? What? I thought you might be into it! I’m not asking for any particular reason!”
Epilogue
Spencer
“Shut up,” Spencer said, throwing his arm over his eyes.
Jon snickered and tucked his face against Spencer’s throat, his grin pressing into Spencer’s skin.
“You thought I was dating Brendon,” Jon said for, like, the fiftieth time in the twelve hours since Spencer’s utter humiliation.
“I said shut up,” Spencer said.
“Brendon,” Jon repeated, and Spencer sighed explosively before rolling over and pinning Jon to the bed. He got the impression from Jon’s huge grin that he had succeeded only because Jon let him.
“Stop talking about Brendon.” He pressed Jon’s wrists into the mattress and glared.
“How could I?” Jon asked, looking perfectly relaxed. “I’m just so in love with him that nothing else matters. Oh, Brendon, Brendon, Bren…”
Spencer mashed his lips against Jon’s in a messy, inelegant kiss that he quickly lost control of when Jon surged up and slicked his tongue into Spencer’s mouth.
“Fuck,” Spencer panted when they broke apart.
“Yeah,” Jon agreed, reaching up and cupping the side of Spencer’s neck. “Spencer Smith, is life with you always going to be this complicated?”
“Probably,” he admitted, wincing. “Sorry.”
"No, no. Now that I know what to expect, I kind of like it. Then again, maybe I just like you. You could tell me you were a cannibal and I'd look up recipes online to make for you. I have it under good authority that human flesh tastes excellent with a nice Chianti."
The last part was said with in a truly horrible Hannibal Lector voice, and Spencer laughed, half-hysterical at the relief washing over him.
"That's...really fucking disgusting, Walker."
“Whatever, it’s only the truth.” He looked up at Spencer, and his smile faded into something more somber. “I have to ask you something serious though.”
Spencer leaned back against his heels and braced himself. “Okay.”
“Just…” Jon said, his gaze darting nervously back and forth between Spencer’s eyes to the wall behind him. “How would you feel about wearing brown contacts?”
Spencer froze a second before grabbing a pillow and smacking Jon with it. “I hate you! You’re such a bastard!”
Jon laughed hysterically as he covered his face with his arms to protect himself from Spencer’s blows. “What? What? I thought you might be into it! I’m not asking for any particular reason!”