But you can't be missed (3/3)
Title: But you can't be missed
Author: eleanor_lavish
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer [also Ryan/Keltie; Jon/ofc]
Rating/warning: R [boysex; implied drug use and suicidal thoughts]
Disclaimer: Totally made up, not meant to offend. Please don't google yourself.
Summary:
"No, I mean. It's like you haven't aged a single day." Ryan steals another glance, and Brendon looks uncomfortably out the window. The back streets of Vegas look a lot like he remembers them. The cars in the driveways aren't really different, people are still dressed the same, dragging their trash to the sidewalk in their pajamas. No one's in some sort of space-age suit or wearing a video visor, or walking a robotic dog. If Brendon was going to be dropped unceremoniously into the future without his consent, there could at least be robotic dogs.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
They manage to get dinner brought in by Pete's security detail-- subs and Mexican food and pizza from all of Brendon's favorite local spots. He wants to remind them that, in his own head, he had Port of Subs three weeks ago (and also he's still stuffed on nachos), but they all look so happy watching him eat that he lets it go. Nora falls asleep in Spencer's lap on the floor of Patrick's suite and he hands her off to Keltie with a kiss to the top of her head. "We're going to turn in," Ryan says from the doorway, and everyone takes it as a cue to stand up from their picnic on the floor. It hasn't been explicitly stated where Brendon is spending the night, but he's not surprised when Spencer takes his hand again and tugs him toward the door.
"Your parents should get to the hotel by ten," Ryan says as they all part ways in the hallway. Brendon's stomach flutters at the idea of springing this all on them, knowing that he disappeared when they were still on such rocky terms, but he knows the guys will be there too and tries not to think about it. "I'll pick them up and bring them to Spence's room."
"Okay," Brendon nods, and Jon tucks an arm around his shoulder.
"Sleep tight, Bren," he says and hugs him tightly for a second before letting go. Ryan's hug is even longer, and Keltie smiles fondly at him from where she's holding Nora and propping Sam up as he leans drowsily into her. "We'll see you tomorrow, Brendon," she says, and Brendon tries not to notice the concerned looks Ryan is shooting at Spencer.
When they get back to the room, Spencer lends him a pair of boxers and a t-shirt to sleep in. Brendon looks himself over as he changes in the bathroom. He doesn't see anything different-- same freckles, same too-small hips. He doesn't have any scars that he can see, nothing suggesting an alien implant or a head injury. He's just plain old Brendon Urie, and he sighs in frustration. After tomorrow, he'll be sitting down with the FBI and he hopes they'll be able to come up with some better answers.
The lights are already off when he comes back in the room, and Brendon slips quietly under the covers. "You asleep?" he whispers.
"What do you think," Spencer answers wryly.
"Sorry I took so long," he says and he can hear Spencer turn his head on the pillow to look at him.
"Did you check behind your ears?" He asks, grinning, and Brendon hums in question. "For implants," he says and Brendon shifts lower in the covers, blushing. "Whatever, I know you," Spencer laughs and Brendon reaches out to smack him in the side.
"You think they'll make me take one of those lie detector tests?" Brendon asks, and Spencer turns on his side to look at him.
"Dunno," he says. "You think you're lying about something?"
"I don't know. I don't think so? Maybe hypnotherapy, or regression or something?" He hasn't had a chance to really think about this since it all fell on him at five am, and Brendon finds he's starting to understand Spencer's need for answers.
"Hey," Spencer says, his hand curling around Brendon's wrist. "We'll figure it out." Spencer's thumb brushes over his pulse a few times, and Brendon can feel the rush of blood to his cheeks. Even back in '07, it's been nearly a year since he shared a bed with Spencer, and Brendon hopes he doesn't embarrass himself. He feels strung out, exhausted, and his skin tingles where Spencer's hand is resting. Maybe he's been over-hugged. Before today, Brendon wouldn't have believed that was possible. But before today, Brendon wouldn't have believed a lot of things.
"Okay," he says quietly, and cringes a little at the hitch in his voice. Spencer's hand stills and Brendon closes his eyes. He thinks maybe he'll pull away, but he doesn't, and they lay there breathing quietly in the dark for long enough that Brendon starts to feel himself drifting off. It's been a long day.
"Brendon?" Spencer whispers, quiet enough that Brendon's not entirely sure he heard him.
"Hmm?" Brendon manages, and Spencer pauses. Brendon's listening now, and he can hear the short, uneven breaths Spencer is struggling through. "What's up, Spence?" he prods and Spencer pulls his hand away from Brendon's wrist.
"Nothing, sorry," he whispers, his voice a little hoarse, and Brendon furrows his brow a little.
"No, hey," Brendon murmurs-- he's so tired but Spencer isn't anywhere near sleep, and Brendon misses the warmth of Spencer's hand on his skin. He rolls to his side, eyes still closed, and reaches his hand out to find Spencer in the dark. His palm lands flat on Spencer's hip, and Brendon lets his fingers curl a little in the fabric of Spencer's cotton pajama pants. "'S'okay," he whispers. "M'awake."
Spencer's trembling a little now, and Brendon blinks his eyes open in time to see Spencer close his and take a deep, shuddering breath. "S-sorry, fuck," Spencer says and Brendon tugs Spencer toward him by the hip, scoots as close as he can until he can wrap his arm loosely around Spencer's waist, until their knees are touching under the covers. He doesn't trust himself to get any closer. Spencer's hand fists in the sleeve of Brendon's t-shirt and Brendon wishes he was more awake, wishes he knew the right things to say.
"Spence, hey," he says gently, and their noses are just inches apart, sharing the same pillow. "I wish I had better answers for you. I wish I had better answers for me. But we're okay, right?"
Spencer is quiet for a long time, his eyes still closed as he takes deep, cleansing breaths. Brendon isn't sure, but he thinks Spencer might be counting in his head, focusing. Brendon just rubs his knuckles over Spencer's hip a few times and waits. He forces his eyes open to keep from falling asleep. "Okay, so," Spencer finally speaks and Brendon smiles at him in the dark as his eyes flutter open.
"So."
"People don't get second chances," he starts and Brendon jumps in with his TV announcer voice.
"You never get a second chance to make a first impression," he says, trying to lighten the mood, and Spencer huffs.
"Let me get through this, please?" he says, and Brendon knows its supposed to sound stern, but all he can hear is the way Spencer's voice wavers on the 'please.'
"Yeah, of course," he replies, and squeezes Spencer's hip once when he doesn't start talking again right away.
"I've done a lot of talking to people about you," Spencer finally says, his gaze fixed near Brendon's shoulder, and Brendon just nods. "Talking to you, you know? A lot of sessions where I would get the 'if he was here right now, what would you say to him?' question. 'If you had one more chance, what would you do over?' It's supposed to make it easier to get to the root of why I... of what happened to me."
Brendon scoots a little closer. He can feel Spencer's pulse racing and his own body wakes up some more in response. If he moves his hand up just an inch, he knows he'll find warm skin where Spencer's shirt has ridden up, but he forces his hand still. Not now, he thinks harshly to himself. What Spencer needs right now is for Brendon to be the kind of friend Spencer needs, the kind who pays attention. This Spencer, still his Spencer, but different, has been through more than Brendon can even wrap his head around, and all for him. Whatever Spencer has to say, Brendon knows it will be important. "Did you figure it out?" he asks, and Spencer shivers a little, his body shifting forward a fraction.
"Yeah," he exhales. "I spent a lot of the first year yelling at you for leaving, or apologizing for everything that happened that day, or begging you to come back. I told you to get the fuck out of my head a lot, but you just wouldn't. I thought you were just trying to get me to find you after everyone else gave up; I thought you stuck with me because you knew I wouldn't stop looking. That's why that day in San Diego... that's why. I thought that's where I'd find you. I thought maybe that way, I'd see you again."
"You could have stopped," Brendon says, his heart in his throat. "Seriously, Spence, you have to know that no matter where I was, I wouldn't have wanted you..." He lets go of his hip to reach up and brush Spencer's hair out of his eyes, and when Spencer looks at him, eyes dark but not distant at all, Brendon almost stops breathing. "I'm not worth dying for, Spencer Smith."
"People kept saying that, all of them, doctors and my parents and Ryan, but I don't really think that's true. Sometimes there are people you love who are worth dying for. Even if... especially if you don't figure that out until its too late." Spencer's fingers are so tight in his sleeve, and Brendon's thumb traces his cheekbone. "You scared me so fucking much back then, you have no idea," Spencer says, his voice low and far away. "That's the part I had to deal with. Not the part when you were gone, but the part when you weren't, when I couldn't deal with anything you made me feel. I was the normal one, right? I was the responsible one. You were the one who got to flirt like it didn't mean anything, who got to kiss me in the rain and then ignore that it happened the next day. I fucking hated you for that."
"Spence," Brendon tries, but no sound comes out, and Spencer's eyes close tight, his hand pulling harshly at the fabric of Brendon's shirt.
"I was so fucking in love with you, and I was scared out of my mind, and I really fucking hated you for that, Brendon," he says, his voice wavering and too loud in the small cocoon they've made for themselves in this strange, huge bed, and Brendon's heart aches so much he can feel his throat closing up, the threat of tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He doesn't know what else to do but tug Spencer's face forward until their foreheads are pressed together, until he can kiss the hot skin under Spencer's eye, the corner of his mouth. It's less the revelation that this Spencer loves him, than that his Spencer loved him, the Spencer who didn't ever seem to want Brendon to touch him anymore, who'd been better at hiding than Brendon would ever be. Not that Brendon is surprised by that, really, when he thinks about it. "It's like I pushed you away," Spencer whispers, and Brendon shivers at the warmth of Spencer's breath on his cheek. "I pushed you so far away, you just fell off the edge of the world."
"Fuck, Spence," Brendon whispers. "You didn't do this." Spence makes a small, tight sound in his throat and Brendon turns his head a fraction and just like that, they're kissing, soft and tentative giving way to something more as Spencer's fingers slipping tightly into Brendon's hair, pulling him closer. Brendon hums a little, the feeling in his chest stupidly warm, giddy as Spencer tugs Brendon half on top of him, opening his mouth when Brendon's tongue traces the seam of his lips.
Brendon's hand slips down and finds that strip of warm skin; his fingers edge under the hem of Spencer's shirt. "Bren," Spencer gasps and Brendon presses his face into Spencer's pale neck. Spencer's fingers tighten a fraction in Brendon's hair.
"This is all I ever wanted," Brendon says, like it's that simple. He knows it's not, knows that there is nothing about this that isn't a mess, but right now Spencer loves him, Spencer wants him, and Brendon thinks maybe there is some sort of silver lining in this mess that is his life now. Maybe he can be that silver lining for Spencer. Their double shot at a second chance. Spencer's shaking again, tiny tremors under Brendon's fingers, and he pulls back, shifts enough that he can wrap himself around Spencer as much as possible. "Shh, hey," he murmurs and plants light kisses along Spencer's jaw. "I'm here. Let's just get some sleep, and we'll figure this all out in the morning."
*
Brendon's not sure how long he sleeps, but there's still no light coming in from around the curtains when he opens his eyes. There's a finger tracing a tentative line over his temple, dipping to run along the shell of his ear, and when Brendon turns his head to see, Spencer stops short, blinking at him. "Sorry. Hi."
"Hi," Brendon blinks back and stretches his arms out once before letting one flop back onto Spencer's stomach. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Not much of a sleeper anymore," Spencer replies, and there's something halting in his voice that brings Brendon back to the first time Spencer saw him in the hallway.
Brendon lifts up on his elbow and gives Spencer's hip a squeeze. "You okay?"
"That depends." Spencer's eyes flit from Brendon's mouth to his eyes. "You're really here?"
Brendon wonders how many times Spencer's had this dream. He leans forward to brush his lips against Spencer's cheek. "Absolutely here," he confirms, and kisses the tip of Spencer's nose. "At your service."
"I'm just--"
"Hey," Brendon cuts him off. "I'm not going anywhere, all right? I promise."
"I bet you would have said the same thing eight years ago," Spencer says softly, and Brendon's skin flashes cold because it's true. He walked out of the cabin thinking he'd be gone an hour, and he lost eight fucking years. He almost lost Spencer.
"Yeah, I would have," he says. "Fuck, Spence, I'm so, so--"
"Don't, please. I don't need you to be sorry, I just need..." He closes his eyes. "I just don't believe anyone has all the time in the world, you know? The families I work with, every one of them used to think that too, but. You never know what's going to happen. You can't make those kinds of promises."
"Okay," Brendon nods, his throat hot and tight. "How about I promise that I would never hurt you on purpose?"
Spencer nods. "I promise that I won't keep the important things to myself, even if they scare me."
"I like that one." Brendon shifts close enough to sift his fingers through Spencer's hair. He slips his knee between Spencer's and smiles. "I promise that I've wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you play drums."
"That's more of a declaration than a promise," Spencer interjects, but his voice is low and breathless.
"Yeah, I'm not really good with words, you know that," he laughs, and leans in to kiss Spencer once, twice.
"I promise not to put off until tomorrow--" Spencer starts, but Brendon just kisses him again, grinning against Spencer's mouth as he whimpers. Spencer shifts a fraction and their legs line up perfectly, Brendon slipping his thigh snugly between Spencer's and gasping a little at the friction. Spencer's hips roll up to meet his. His fingers slide under Spencer's shirt and spiderwalk up his ribcage until he can brush the calloused pad of his thumb over Spencer's nipple. Spencer bucks up under him and Brendon grins against his mouth and does it again, letting the edge of his nail slip against the bud of skin and Spencer turns his head, eyes open wide as he shivers. "Brendon, fuck, fuck," he says, and he's shaking a little.
Spencer slumps back into the pillows and Brendon raises his head until they're looking at each other, all shadows in the dark except for the pale blue rings of Spencer's eyes. He looks young, Brendon thinks, and its odd because Spencer always had old man eyes. Maybe it was all the hiding, because Brendon's never seen Spencer this open in his entire life -- half-amazed, half-terrified-- and he can't stop himself from leaning in and kissing him again.
"You're sure?" Spencer says when Brendon pulls back for air, and fuck, honestly Brendon's not really sure about most of his life right now, but he needs this. He shoves Spencer's shirt up to his armpits and leans down to flick his tongue over Spencer's nipple. Spencer makes a high keening noise and Brendon actually laughs.
"Okay, how did I not know about this?" he asks and Spencer's blushing pink, his breath still hitching as Brendon mouths his way across Spencer's chest to suck lightly on his other nipple.
"Right, like I was going to give you any more ammunition," Spencer looks down at him and Brendon nods thoughtfully.
"Point."
Spencer tugs him back up and they kiss for a while, stopping to pull their shirts off. Brendon's learning Spencer in ways he never really thought he'd get to-- the nipple thing is pretty awesome, but so is the way Spencer scrapes his teeth lightly over Brendon's neck, and the way his grip tightens in Brendon's hair when Brendon traces his fingers along the waist of Spencer's soft sleep pants. "Bren," he gasps a little when Brendon moves his thigh up, presses down, and fuck. Brendon's been hard for a while, and the hard line of Spencer's cock is pressing into his leg. He pushes his face into the crook of Spencer's neck when he thrusts up, just a little.
"Yeah, yes," Brendon pants, rolling down into Spencer's hips. Spencer moans low in his chest, grabs Brendon's ass with one hand and there's no way they're stopping this.
Spencer's hips are legendary, really, and Brendon knew it would be like this if they ever slept together, all rolling hips and deep kisses that make Brendon dizzy. They rut against each other until Brendon thinks his dick might be rubbed raw from the soft cotton of Spencer's boxers (he's wearing Spencer's boxers, and holy shit, that's a sexy thought in and of itself). His lips are tender from half a million passes over the morning stubble on Spencer's throat. Spencer can have singular focus and he distracts Brendon from any attempt at getting his hand down Spencer's pants. Finally, he slips his hand down the back of Brendon's boxers and his finger slides into the cleft of Brendon's ass, pressing down, teasing just a little. He murmurs "come on, come on," teeth scraping the shell of Brendon's ear, and Brendon doesn't even try to hold back. The noise he makes when he comes would almost be embarrassing if it didn't make Spencer moan. He grabs Spencer's hip when he starts to thrust up again. The sensation is too much, sharp lines of electricity up his still tingling spine. Spencer stills, and Brendon takes a long minute to get his breath back.
"You okay?" Spencer asks, lips pressed to his hair, and Brendon manages a weak laugh.
"Yeah, I think so." Spencer is still hard, his hips practically vibrating with the effort of not moving. Brendon shifts his thigh a fraction and he can feel Spencer's stomach tighten. "Wait, let me," Brendon breathes and pushes back onto his knees. When he tucks his fingers into the hem of Spencer's pants, Spencer's eyes flutter closed for a second.
"Brendon--"
"Don't tell me you haven't thought of this," Brendon smiles. He can almost feel his toes again, and he's slow, deliberate as he pulls Spencer's pants down over his hips until Spencer's cock is laying heavy and hard against his belly.
Spencer doesn't laugh like Brendon thinks he will. He just opens his eyes and gazes down at Brendon with wide, dark eyes, and Brendon's stomach flips. Spencer's thought about this for eight years, more, and Brendon has a sudden desire to make Spencer come so hard he won't be able to see. Spencer deserves that. Spencer deserves everything Brendon can give him. He leans in and kisses the crease of Spencer's hip, runs the tip of his tongue across coarse hair to kiss the other side. He hasn't done this a lot (not as much as Spencer probably thinks seeing as Brendon has a habit of exaggerating his conquests) but Spencer's stomach quivers under his fingers and Brendon thinks he's doing okay.
When his lips brush the base of Spencer's cock, Spencer inhales sharply. His fingers wind in the sheets, but his hips stay still. Brendon grins against his skin and reaches out to untangle Spencer's hand. He slowly works his mouth up until he can slide the plane of his tongue across the head, and gently pushes Spencer's hand into his hair just before he sucks and slides down as far as he can. Spencer's control slips enough that he pulls hard at Brendon's hair with a stuttered "sh-shit".
Brendon can't do anything but moan and Spencer's hips finally jerk, the head of his cock bumping the roof of Brendon's mouth. Brendon smoothes his hand over Spencer's hip and makes what he hopes is an encouraging sound. When he flicks his eyes up, Spencer is watching, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. For a quick second Brendon wonders at how different Spencer looks like this, but he can't tell if it's the angle or the added years.
Brendon feels really young suddenly, fumbling, like the time he hooked up with a boy in the seedy green room of a nameless venue. But Spencer's thumb traces over the rise of his cheek and Brendon closes his eyes and focuses on the slick tang of Spencer's cock, the small hitched breaths he's making. He doesn't try for anything fancy because he doesn't know anything fancy, but he does add the press of his tongue to the sensitive underside of Spencer's cock, repeating it a few times when it pulls a low groan from his chest. "Bren, m'close," he gets out through clenched teeth, and Brendon hollows his cheeks and waits until the first few drops land hot and sticky on his tongue before pulling off and jerking Spencer off through the aftershocks. He's gorgeous, pale and perfect where his body expands and contracts through his orgasm, but Brendon can see another scar along his ribcage, harsher than the other, and he presses his forehead to Spencer's belly and closes his eyes.
Spencer's breaths are coming hard and fast as Brendon crawls up his body. Brendon's boxers are a little gross now that he's paying attention, and he plants a line of kisses along Spencer's shoulder before he rolls out of bed and gets himself cleaned up. He pads back to bed naked, warm washcloth in hand, and finds Spencer watching him again. He quirks his eyebrow before tossing the wet cloth on Spencer's chest.
"See something you like, Smith?" he asks, low and teasing. His smile freezes when he remembers saying the exact same thing to Spencer three days ago, Spencer's eyes following him as he got out of the hot tub at the cabin. Those three days were a lifetime to Spencer. It's finally sinking in, he thinks, like his brain is detached from his body-- his chest is too tight, the whole room a little off kilter, and Brendon's eyesight blurs at the edges.
Spencer must see something on his face because he's off the bed like a shot, steering Brendon to the bed by the elbow until they're sitting side by side. Spencer pushes at the back of Brendon's neck until he's bent over double. "Breathe," he murmurs, his thumb stroking behind Brendon's ear. "I know, trust me, just breathe."
"This is so fucked up," Brendon's voice is small and tight in his own ears, and he can feel Spencer stiffen a little. "Not you, fuck," Brendon says, his head still down, and reaches out to squeeze Spencer's knee. "Just. Everything else."
"Yeah," Spencer says, and they just sit there in the quiet until Brendon's breathing normally again.
"What's going to happen now?" Brendon asks, and god, he sounds so fucking young, but he guesses that to the rest of them he actually is that young. He slumps against Spencer's side and presses his nose to the hollow of Spencer's throat.
Spencer takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I don't know. We'll get some sleep, and take things as they come tomorrow. But I'm here, okay?"
"You sure you're going to be up for this?" Brendon asks, because Spencer doesn't seem broken, not really, but there's something about him now that's... fragile.
Spencer just laughs. "I've been in training for this day for years," he says. "Come on, let's sleep."
And they do.
*
The pounding on the door wakes Brendon up at five am. Spencer is wrapped around him sleeping soundly, but the next round of pounding is louder, with a "WAKE UP, COME ON, THERE ISN'T A LOT OF TIME" on the other side. "What the fuck?" Spencer blinks up at him blearily.
"Gabe," Brendon says, and Spencer rolls his eyes. The pounding continues until Spencer finally gets out of bed, tugging on his sleep pants, and goes to open the door.
"Gabe, it's not even dawn--" he starts, but Gabe pushes into the room and points at Brendon.
"Come on, kiddo, get up, we're on a deadline." He's still in his ridiculous t-shirt. Brendon wonders if he's slept at all.
"Gabe," Spencer intervenes, trying to him back to the door by his arm. "This is not the best day for this--"
"I'm sorry, I am," Gabe starts, and he's not high, Brendon can tell. He's not high, and he's awake, and he's serious. Brendon sits up in bed, the covers strategically covering all his naked parts.
"Gabe, what--"
"It was an accident," Gabe says, his voice a little pleading. "But he's going to get you home, Urie, so put on some pants and let's go."
"Home?" Brendon says at the same time Spencer asks "Who?"
Gabe blinks at them. "The Cobra," he says clearly. "He can get you back where you belong. Or, I guess, when. He sort of dropped you off in the wrong year."
Brendon lets out a short, surprised laugh.
Spencer doesn't find this funny at all. In fact, he finds it so not funny he goes to get Ryan, but Brendon can feel his heart pounding in his chest. Gabe doesn't even blink at his nakedness when he goes to the bathroom to put on his clothes. Gabe's crazy, but this whole thing is crazy, and maybe... "Make sure you have all the stuff you came with, and not anything else," Gabe says sternly, like he's practiced this speech before. Alex appears in the doorway.
"Seriously, what the hell is the holdup?" he says, and Gabe throws his arms up in frustration.
"This is so beyond fucked up, I can't even tell you," Spencer says from the hallway, arms crossed, and Ryan is pushing into the room past Alex.
"You don't have to listen to this, Bren," Ryan says, his voice rough with sleep, and Brendon can hear the faint crying down the hall of a baby who's been woken up too soon, and his throat feels tight and hot. He's missed a lot. Too much, maybe.
"What if he's not lying," Brendon says, and looks around for his keys before remembering he didn't have them in the first place.
"That's insane, there are no such thing as time-traveling cobras."
"Yeah, well, people don't come back from the dead either." Jon is in the doorway now, his hair tucked under a Cubs hat. "Maybe we need to redefine 'insane.'" Brendon squeezes Jon's hand. Brendon's lavendar hoodie is still at Ryan's place, but the rest of his clothes are the same, and he nods at Gabe.
*
The whole group of them (Ryan refuses to let Brendon go anywhere alone with Cobra Starship, and Spencer refuses to let Brendon out of his sight, and Brendon refuses to let Jon be left behind) take a service elevator up to the top floor of the hotel, and then all of them are pounding up a small set of metal stairs after Alex and Gabe. The roof is surprisingly unkempt, covered in spare bolts of wire and stacks of roofing paper. The neon shine of the hotel's signature guitar casts a weird light around in the pre-dawn.
In one corner of the rooftop, there is a silver sphere about a hundred feet across, and it's floating a foot off the ground.
Somehow its not the strangest thing that's happened to Brendon all day.
Nate is sitting on the tarred roof next to it, smoking a cigarette. "Man, he was gonna be pissed if you got here after sunrise," he says, putting the butt out on the heel of his shoe and standing up. Brendon has stopped short about fifty feet from the sphere, and he can feel Spencer behind him, Ryan and Jon just to his left.
"Victoria, they're here!" Nate calls and a door falls open seemingly from nowhere. Vicky jogs down the slim metal ramp in a flouncing black and yellow sundress.
"He's all set, just needed to make adjustments for that solar flare, or whatever." She smiles when she sees Brendon. "Hey!" she says cheerfully and Brendon lifts one hand in a half-hearted wave. This actually is insane.
"C'mon," Gabe says impatiently and herds them all forward until Brendon can see inside the sphere. Ryland's head is visible over a console. "Oh, awesome," Ryland says, and waves Brendon toward the ramp. "Come on, we only have a ten minute window."
Brendon balks. Thinking that time travel is possible and actually traveling through time are two very different things. Jon peers over his shoulder. Spencer's hand is tight on his elbow. Ryan's the only one who can find his voice at all.
"So. Um. Where's the cobra?" he asks, and Brendon really thinks he would have started with something else, but okay.
Gabe just tilts his head. "This is The Cobra," he says, and waves his arm at the spaceship, gently bobbing on a cushion of air as Ryland strides down the platform.
"The cobra is a spaceship," Ryan says, deadpan, and Brendon can feel Jon giggle a little next to him. His breathing is also all weird so it's probably a little hysterical.
"The cobra is a starship," Gabe says, a little indignant, and Alex puts a hand on his shoulder.
"The cobra is a symbol," he smiles. "The starship is the starship. And he's really sorry about the mixup-- you weren't supposed to be gone for more than ten minutes."
"What--" Ryan asks, his hands flailing in front of him.
"He picked you up like he picks up everybody," Alex says calmly to Brendon, like this happens every day. Brendon is rethinking his position on Alex as the sane one in Cobra Starship.
"Everybody?" Ryan's voice is a little squeaky.
"Well, everyone he thinks can help us," Ryland says with an apologetic smile. "It's usually a quick scan, then back in time to right back where you came from, none the wiser. But there was some sort of solar flare when he picked you up, and his calculations were off a tiny bit."
"A tiny bit," Jon says, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Look, eight years is like half a second to this guy," Gabe says. "It was an honest mistake, and he's going to fix it, but you've GOT to get a move on, dude."
Spencer puts his hand on the small of Brendon's back. It feels like an anchor and Brendon leans into the touch.
"Brendon is NOT getting in that thing!" Ryan practically shouts, and Brendon winces.
"So you want him to be a freakshow until the end of time? You think the FBI is going to take "I don't know" as an answer forever? Especially since he medically hasn't aged a day? He doesn't belong here," Gabe shoots back.
Spencer goes totally still behind him and Brendon turns around to take his hand. "Hey, it's okay, I promised I wouldn't go, Spence. This is crazy."
"This whole thing is crazy," Spencer whispers, still looking past Brendon at the starship. "But you don't belong here, that's true."
"Spence," Brendon pleads, squeezes his fingers, and when Spencer finally looks at him, Brendon can see that his eyes are clear and focused.
"You have to go," he says firmly and Ryan makes a strangled noise beside them. "No, Ry, he has to go. This is safe?" he shoots at Gabe. "This is going to work?"
"Yes," Gabe says with absolute certainty and Ryland nods next to him.
"Okay," he looks Brendon in the eyes. "I got my second chance."
"Spence--" Brendon tries to cut in desperately because he can't do this to Spencer again, no matter how awful things might get for him here.
"I said everything I had to say, and I'll know you're safe, and maybe none of this will ever have happened." Brendon sees a flash of hope in Spencer's eyes at that, and he finally understands.
"You think... I don't know if that's how it works," Brendon whispers and Spencer nods.
"Maybe not, but at least some version of me won't have to live through this," he says tightly. "And you won't have to deal with the insanity that's about to become your life."
Ryan presses in at Brendon's elbow. "You don't have to do this," he says roughly, and Brendon leans into him a little.
He reaches out a hand for Jon. "What do you think?" he asks, because Jon's opinion always mattered. Jon always saw the big picture.
"I think you should do what makes sense to you," he says quietly, looking from Brendon to Spencer. "It's a leap of faith, but sometimes those have the best payout."
"Okay," Brendon says, and takes a deep breath. Spencer smiles. Brendon looks over him shoulder at Gabe. "Okay."
"All right, lets go!" Gabe says with a huge grin. The rest of his band jog a few feet out of the way as the starship starts to hum.
"Bren," Ryan says, and Brendon can tell he's not okay with any of this. He pulls him in for a tight hug.
"You're just fine, Ryan Ross," he says low in his ear. "I'm ridiculously proud of you." Ryan hugs him back hard enough to bruise.
Jon's hugs is less desperate, but somehow more sad. Brendon plants a kiss to his temple before whispering, "They miss you." Jon nods, and Brendon can tell he's trying not to cry. "I'll miss you too," he adds and Jon just holds on tight for a second before stepping back.
"Don't mess up the future with your evil time traveling knowledge," he says with mock seriousness, his eyes shining, and Brendon laughs.
"Like anyone would believe me."
Spencer takes his hand and Brendon can feel the urge to stay tugging on him. Back home, Spencer wouldn't ever look at him like this, with eyes full of warmth and wonder. He leans in for a kiss. "I love you," he says softly and Spencer smiles against his mouth.
"I love you too."
"You sure you can do this?" Brendon asks. "I promised not to disappear--"
"Yeah, but this time I'll know where you are," he says with a squeeze to Brendon's hand. "You'll be with me."
"Yeah," Brendon says, his heart already aching, and Spencer cups his chin, forces his gaze up.
"Don't let me fuck it up, Bren," he says seriously. "I'm going to be a douchewad about it, but don't ever believe me if I say I don't love you. I was a fucking idiot when I was nineteen."
"Noted," Brendon says with a watery smile. "I'll try to tread lightly."
"Not too lightly," Spencer smiles back and Brendon wraps his arms around Spencer's neck for a full body hug.
"I'll see you soon," he whispers low in Spencer's ear before pulling back for one last kiss. It's sweet and soft, with the hint of a gasp at the end, and Brendon files it away in his memory. It might be a long time before he gets to kiss Spencer like this again, but it certainly won't be never. Brendon's tenacious like that.
"Urie, last chance!" Gabe shouts, and suddenly the hum from the starship is loud enough to make the air around them vibrate. Brendon gives one last wave and runs up the ramp.
*
There's nothing inside but the console, covered in strange glowing symbols Brendon doesn't understand. The whole starship raises up fast enough that Brendon can feel the swoosh of it in his stomach. A voice from all around him says "Yo, you may want to sit down."
Brendon just blinks at the console. The spaceship is talking to him?
"Starship," the voice says, like it can read Brendon's mind. "And suit yourself, dude, but we're about to go really fast."
Brendon is halfway to a sitting position, legs crossed under him, when the starship bucks forward with enough force to send him skidding across the slick metal floor. He sees the wall coming and thinks "fuck, not again" before everything goes black.
*
It's dark when he blinks his eyes open, and Brendon's head hurts like a son of a bitch. His ass is cold and a little clammy and there is the rustle of dead leaves when he moves. He scrambles to his knees and yeah, this is the same spot in the woods where he lost his footing. It's deja vu for a moment until he catches sight of his phone sitting on the hill a few feet away. Brendon laughs out loud, his whole body giddy with excitement as he scrambles up the hill, phone in hand, and runs down the path back to the cabin.
He knows for sure the trip back worked when he rounds the corner and Ryan and Spencer's cars are there, a light shining out of the kitchen window. Brendon nearly pulls the door off its hinges trying to open it.
"Hey," Jon says from his seat on the couch. He's got a bowl of mac and cheese in his lap, and his hair is sticking up in back. "We were about to send out a search party," he says with a grin and Brendon launches himself from the doorway to wrap his arms around Jon's neck.
"Don't ever leave us, okay?" he mumbles into Jon's shirt and Jon just laughs and pats him on the arm.
"Okay," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and Brendon thinks this is home.
Ryan appears from the hall and frowns at Brendon. "You went out in a t-shirt? How are you not freezing?" Ryan's haircut (or maybe lack of haircut) is ridiculous, and Brendon can't help his wide, stupid smile.
"Such a mother hen," he says fondly and Ryan huffs.
"Whatever, get pneumonia and die, see if I care," he shrugs and shuffles toward the kitchen.
Brendon catches his arm and gives him a quick squeeze around the waist. "You'd care," he says and Ryan shoves him off, but he's smiling a little.
"You're a total spaz, you know that," he says and Brendon feels like he wants to pick up Jon and Ryan and dance around like a fucking madman, but first. First.
"Is Spence in his room?" he asks and Ryan's smile fades a little.
"Yeah, but I wouldn't go in there. He's fucking pissed at you dude."
"Yeah," Brendon says, and he should be cautious, he knows he should, but it's Spencer, who is probably upstairs pining for him, and he bounces a little on the balls of his feet. "I'll just apologize," he says with a smile and takes the stairs two at a time until he's outside Spencer's door.
Spencer's playing The Eagles loud enough that Brendon can hear every word, so he doesn't bother knocking. He just opens the door wide enough to peek in and sees Spencer laying on his bed, bare feet propped up on his pillow. He's reading a Steinbeck novel, something Brendon remembers from high school. He's sporting almost enough scruff to count as a beard and Brendon wonders what it would feel like on his skin and has to bite his lip to keep from making a sound.
"Hey," he says, stepping into the room and leaning on the door to close it. He keeps his hands tucked behind him, palms against the cool wood of the door. His heart is racing a mile a minute and he forces his face into a friendly half-smile.
Spencer doesn't even put his book down; he hits pause on his stereo and glares at Brendon over the top. "What the fuck do you want?"
"I guess... I wanted to say I'm sorry," he starts.
"You guess," Spencer spits back at him, and Brendon ducks his head. It's only been a day, really, since he's seen Spencer like this, but it's like he's forgotten how closed off Spencer can get, how defensive and arrogant and... scared. It never looked like fear to Brendon before, but he knows better now.
"I'm sorry," Brendon says quietly, trying his best catch Spencer's eyes. He means it to count for a lot more than his hissy fit, but he's not sure how to say it. Spencer puts his book down and sits up, and at least Brendon has his attention.
"You just think everything is about you, Brendon. You think that everyone is just here to fucking entertain you. And sometimes," Spencer pauses, his fingers tightening around the edge of his mattress. "Sometimes there's shit going on you don't fucking know about, okay? Sometimes I just want to be left the fuck alone."
"Okay," Brendon says, and he means it. He's not going to push this, not knowing how amazing the end could be. He's not going to risk pushing Spencer away.
"You're really fucking hard to be friends with sometimes, you know that?" Spencer says, his gaze landing on Brendon's neck. Brendon wonders too late if there's a mark there from the other Spencer, remembers the feeling of teeth against his throat and he can't stop the blush that creeps over his cheeks.
"I know," Brendon manages faintly and Spencer blinks down at the floor. "Maybe that means we're not supposed to be friends," he says and smiles a little when Spencer's head jerks up. He wants to drop to his knees and kiss Spencer senseless, but he grabs the doorknob instead and lets himself out.
He's treading lightly, here. Oh so fucking lightly.
The next morning, Brendon runs into Spencer in the kitchen and bumps his shoulder as they both reach for the coffee pot. Brendon grins at him and Spencer shakes his head and cracks a smile. "Hey, is there sugar?" Brendon says and reaches over Spencer's shoulder for the sugar container on the shelf above the sink.
Spencer snorts. "Like you need it."
As he lowers his hand, Brendon lets his knuckles brush over Spencer's nipple through his t-shirt and licks his lips as Spencer takes a nearly-silent breath. Brendon waits a beat before taking a step back and pouring the sugar into his coffee.
Not too lightly, he remembers, and grins at Spencer over the edge of his mug.
Authors notes: The idea for this fic came from one of my favorite childhood films, Flight of the Navigator, and I want to thank all the people who let me flail at them about my "Flight of the Brendonator" fic for, oh, nearly a year. Thanks to the girls of Oxford House, including the West Coast Chapter and Team Canada, and anyone I was stuck in a car/van/plane/train with for more than an hour. Special thanks to my amazing beta o4fuxache, who is the Statler to my Waldorf and makes me laugh even when mocking my punctuation; to my cheerleading squad/reader/fanmixer siryn99 who actually made those high pitched noises only dogs can hear when I told her I was finished; and to my lovely roommate schuyler. This outtake is for her:
Ryan blinks. "Is there a snake flying that spaceship?" he asks, his eyes widening.
"No. There is a cobra flying that starship," Gabe answers, more than a hint of snugness in his voice and Spencer makes a choked noise.
"Well, then," Jon says calmly and they all look at him. He shrugs. "Well, it explains a LOT."
Author: eleanor_lavish
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer [also Ryan/Keltie; Jon/ofc]
Rating/warning: R [boysex; implied drug use and suicidal thoughts]
Disclaimer: Totally made up, not meant to offend. Please don't google yourself.
Summary:
"No, I mean. It's like you haven't aged a single day." Ryan steals another glance, and Brendon looks uncomfortably out the window. The back streets of Vegas look a lot like he remembers them. The cars in the driveways aren't really different, people are still dressed the same, dragging their trash to the sidewalk in their pajamas. No one's in some sort of space-age suit or wearing a video visor, or walking a robotic dog. If Brendon was going to be dropped unceremoniously into the future without his consent, there could at least be robotic dogs.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
They manage to get dinner brought in by Pete's security detail-- subs and Mexican food and pizza from all of Brendon's favorite local spots. He wants to remind them that, in his own head, he had Port of Subs three weeks ago (and also he's still stuffed on nachos), but they all look so happy watching him eat that he lets it go. Nora falls asleep in Spencer's lap on the floor of Patrick's suite and he hands her off to Keltie with a kiss to the top of her head. "We're going to turn in," Ryan says from the doorway, and everyone takes it as a cue to stand up from their picnic on the floor. It hasn't been explicitly stated where Brendon is spending the night, but he's not surprised when Spencer takes his hand again and tugs him toward the door.
"Your parents should get to the hotel by ten," Ryan says as they all part ways in the hallway. Brendon's stomach flutters at the idea of springing this all on them, knowing that he disappeared when they were still on such rocky terms, but he knows the guys will be there too and tries not to think about it. "I'll pick them up and bring them to Spence's room."
"Okay," Brendon nods, and Jon tucks an arm around his shoulder.
"Sleep tight, Bren," he says and hugs him tightly for a second before letting go. Ryan's hug is even longer, and Keltie smiles fondly at him from where she's holding Nora and propping Sam up as he leans drowsily into her. "We'll see you tomorrow, Brendon," she says, and Brendon tries not to notice the concerned looks Ryan is shooting at Spencer.
When they get back to the room, Spencer lends him a pair of boxers and a t-shirt to sleep in. Brendon looks himself over as he changes in the bathroom. He doesn't see anything different-- same freckles, same too-small hips. He doesn't have any scars that he can see, nothing suggesting an alien implant or a head injury. He's just plain old Brendon Urie, and he sighs in frustration. After tomorrow, he'll be sitting down with the FBI and he hopes they'll be able to come up with some better answers.
The lights are already off when he comes back in the room, and Brendon slips quietly under the covers. "You asleep?" he whispers.
"What do you think," Spencer answers wryly.
"Sorry I took so long," he says and he can hear Spencer turn his head on the pillow to look at him.
"Did you check behind your ears?" He asks, grinning, and Brendon hums in question. "For implants," he says and Brendon shifts lower in the covers, blushing. "Whatever, I know you," Spencer laughs and Brendon reaches out to smack him in the side.
"You think they'll make me take one of those lie detector tests?" Brendon asks, and Spencer turns on his side to look at him.
"Dunno," he says. "You think you're lying about something?"
"I don't know. I don't think so? Maybe hypnotherapy, or regression or something?" He hasn't had a chance to really think about this since it all fell on him at five am, and Brendon finds he's starting to understand Spencer's need for answers.
"Hey," Spencer says, his hand curling around Brendon's wrist. "We'll figure it out." Spencer's thumb brushes over his pulse a few times, and Brendon can feel the rush of blood to his cheeks. Even back in '07, it's been nearly a year since he shared a bed with Spencer, and Brendon hopes he doesn't embarrass himself. He feels strung out, exhausted, and his skin tingles where Spencer's hand is resting. Maybe he's been over-hugged. Before today, Brendon wouldn't have believed that was possible. But before today, Brendon wouldn't have believed a lot of things.
"Okay," he says quietly, and cringes a little at the hitch in his voice. Spencer's hand stills and Brendon closes his eyes. He thinks maybe he'll pull away, but he doesn't, and they lay there breathing quietly in the dark for long enough that Brendon starts to feel himself drifting off. It's been a long day.
"Brendon?" Spencer whispers, quiet enough that Brendon's not entirely sure he heard him.
"Hmm?" Brendon manages, and Spencer pauses. Brendon's listening now, and he can hear the short, uneven breaths Spencer is struggling through. "What's up, Spence?" he prods and Spencer pulls his hand away from Brendon's wrist.
"Nothing, sorry," he whispers, his voice a little hoarse, and Brendon furrows his brow a little.
"No, hey," Brendon murmurs-- he's so tired but Spencer isn't anywhere near sleep, and Brendon misses the warmth of Spencer's hand on his skin. He rolls to his side, eyes still closed, and reaches his hand out to find Spencer in the dark. His palm lands flat on Spencer's hip, and Brendon lets his fingers curl a little in the fabric of Spencer's cotton pajama pants. "'S'okay," he whispers. "M'awake."
Spencer's trembling a little now, and Brendon blinks his eyes open in time to see Spencer close his and take a deep, shuddering breath. "S-sorry, fuck," Spencer says and Brendon tugs Spencer toward him by the hip, scoots as close as he can until he can wrap his arm loosely around Spencer's waist, until their knees are touching under the covers. He doesn't trust himself to get any closer. Spencer's hand fists in the sleeve of Brendon's t-shirt and Brendon wishes he was more awake, wishes he knew the right things to say.
"Spence, hey," he says gently, and their noses are just inches apart, sharing the same pillow. "I wish I had better answers for you. I wish I had better answers for me. But we're okay, right?"
Spencer is quiet for a long time, his eyes still closed as he takes deep, cleansing breaths. Brendon isn't sure, but he thinks Spencer might be counting in his head, focusing. Brendon just rubs his knuckles over Spencer's hip a few times and waits. He forces his eyes open to keep from falling asleep. "Okay, so," Spencer finally speaks and Brendon smiles at him in the dark as his eyes flutter open.
"So."
"People don't get second chances," he starts and Brendon jumps in with his TV announcer voice.
"You never get a second chance to make a first impression," he says, trying to lighten the mood, and Spencer huffs.
"Let me get through this, please?" he says, and Brendon knows its supposed to sound stern, but all he can hear is the way Spencer's voice wavers on the 'please.'
"Yeah, of course," he replies, and squeezes Spencer's hip once when he doesn't start talking again right away.
"I've done a lot of talking to people about you," Spencer finally says, his gaze fixed near Brendon's shoulder, and Brendon just nods. "Talking to you, you know? A lot of sessions where I would get the 'if he was here right now, what would you say to him?' question. 'If you had one more chance, what would you do over?' It's supposed to make it easier to get to the root of why I... of what happened to me."
Brendon scoots a little closer. He can feel Spencer's pulse racing and his own body wakes up some more in response. If he moves his hand up just an inch, he knows he'll find warm skin where Spencer's shirt has ridden up, but he forces his hand still. Not now, he thinks harshly to himself. What Spencer needs right now is for Brendon to be the kind of friend Spencer needs, the kind who pays attention. This Spencer, still his Spencer, but different, has been through more than Brendon can even wrap his head around, and all for him. Whatever Spencer has to say, Brendon knows it will be important. "Did you figure it out?" he asks, and Spencer shivers a little, his body shifting forward a fraction.
"Yeah," he exhales. "I spent a lot of the first year yelling at you for leaving, or apologizing for everything that happened that day, or begging you to come back. I told you to get the fuck out of my head a lot, but you just wouldn't. I thought you were just trying to get me to find you after everyone else gave up; I thought you stuck with me because you knew I wouldn't stop looking. That's why that day in San Diego... that's why. I thought that's where I'd find you. I thought maybe that way, I'd see you again."
"You could have stopped," Brendon says, his heart in his throat. "Seriously, Spence, you have to know that no matter where I was, I wouldn't have wanted you..." He lets go of his hip to reach up and brush Spencer's hair out of his eyes, and when Spencer looks at him, eyes dark but not distant at all, Brendon almost stops breathing. "I'm not worth dying for, Spencer Smith."
"People kept saying that, all of them, doctors and my parents and Ryan, but I don't really think that's true. Sometimes there are people you love who are worth dying for. Even if... especially if you don't figure that out until its too late." Spencer's fingers are so tight in his sleeve, and Brendon's thumb traces his cheekbone. "You scared me so fucking much back then, you have no idea," Spencer says, his voice low and far away. "That's the part I had to deal with. Not the part when you were gone, but the part when you weren't, when I couldn't deal with anything you made me feel. I was the normal one, right? I was the responsible one. You were the one who got to flirt like it didn't mean anything, who got to kiss me in the rain and then ignore that it happened the next day. I fucking hated you for that."
"Spence," Brendon tries, but no sound comes out, and Spencer's eyes close tight, his hand pulling harshly at the fabric of Brendon's shirt.
"I was so fucking in love with you, and I was scared out of my mind, and I really fucking hated you for that, Brendon," he says, his voice wavering and too loud in the small cocoon they've made for themselves in this strange, huge bed, and Brendon's heart aches so much he can feel his throat closing up, the threat of tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He doesn't know what else to do but tug Spencer's face forward until their foreheads are pressed together, until he can kiss the hot skin under Spencer's eye, the corner of his mouth. It's less the revelation that this Spencer loves him, than that his Spencer loved him, the Spencer who didn't ever seem to want Brendon to touch him anymore, who'd been better at hiding than Brendon would ever be. Not that Brendon is surprised by that, really, when he thinks about it. "It's like I pushed you away," Spencer whispers, and Brendon shivers at the warmth of Spencer's breath on his cheek. "I pushed you so far away, you just fell off the edge of the world."
"Fuck, Spence," Brendon whispers. "You didn't do this." Spence makes a small, tight sound in his throat and Brendon turns his head a fraction and just like that, they're kissing, soft and tentative giving way to something more as Spencer's fingers slipping tightly into Brendon's hair, pulling him closer. Brendon hums a little, the feeling in his chest stupidly warm, giddy as Spencer tugs Brendon half on top of him, opening his mouth when Brendon's tongue traces the seam of his lips.
Brendon's hand slips down and finds that strip of warm skin; his fingers edge under the hem of Spencer's shirt. "Bren," Spencer gasps and Brendon presses his face into Spencer's pale neck. Spencer's fingers tighten a fraction in Brendon's hair.
"This is all I ever wanted," Brendon says, like it's that simple. He knows it's not, knows that there is nothing about this that isn't a mess, but right now Spencer loves him, Spencer wants him, and Brendon thinks maybe there is some sort of silver lining in this mess that is his life now. Maybe he can be that silver lining for Spencer. Their double shot at a second chance. Spencer's shaking again, tiny tremors under Brendon's fingers, and he pulls back, shifts enough that he can wrap himself around Spencer as much as possible. "Shh, hey," he murmurs and plants light kisses along Spencer's jaw. "I'm here. Let's just get some sleep, and we'll figure this all out in the morning."
*
Brendon's not sure how long he sleeps, but there's still no light coming in from around the curtains when he opens his eyes. There's a finger tracing a tentative line over his temple, dipping to run along the shell of his ear, and when Brendon turns his head to see, Spencer stops short, blinking at him. "Sorry. Hi."
"Hi," Brendon blinks back and stretches his arms out once before letting one flop back onto Spencer's stomach. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Not much of a sleeper anymore," Spencer replies, and there's something halting in his voice that brings Brendon back to the first time Spencer saw him in the hallway.
Brendon lifts up on his elbow and gives Spencer's hip a squeeze. "You okay?"
"That depends." Spencer's eyes flit from Brendon's mouth to his eyes. "You're really here?"
Brendon wonders how many times Spencer's had this dream. He leans forward to brush his lips against Spencer's cheek. "Absolutely here," he confirms, and kisses the tip of Spencer's nose. "At your service."
"I'm just--"
"Hey," Brendon cuts him off. "I'm not going anywhere, all right? I promise."
"I bet you would have said the same thing eight years ago," Spencer says softly, and Brendon's skin flashes cold because it's true. He walked out of the cabin thinking he'd be gone an hour, and he lost eight fucking years. He almost lost Spencer.
"Yeah, I would have," he says. "Fuck, Spence, I'm so, so--"
"Don't, please. I don't need you to be sorry, I just need..." He closes his eyes. "I just don't believe anyone has all the time in the world, you know? The families I work with, every one of them used to think that too, but. You never know what's going to happen. You can't make those kinds of promises."
"Okay," Brendon nods, his throat hot and tight. "How about I promise that I would never hurt you on purpose?"
Spencer nods. "I promise that I won't keep the important things to myself, even if they scare me."
"I like that one." Brendon shifts close enough to sift his fingers through Spencer's hair. He slips his knee between Spencer's and smiles. "I promise that I've wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you play drums."
"That's more of a declaration than a promise," Spencer interjects, but his voice is low and breathless.
"Yeah, I'm not really good with words, you know that," he laughs, and leans in to kiss Spencer once, twice.
"I promise not to put off until tomorrow--" Spencer starts, but Brendon just kisses him again, grinning against Spencer's mouth as he whimpers. Spencer shifts a fraction and their legs line up perfectly, Brendon slipping his thigh snugly between Spencer's and gasping a little at the friction. Spencer's hips roll up to meet his. His fingers slide under Spencer's shirt and spiderwalk up his ribcage until he can brush the calloused pad of his thumb over Spencer's nipple. Spencer bucks up under him and Brendon grins against his mouth and does it again, letting the edge of his nail slip against the bud of skin and Spencer turns his head, eyes open wide as he shivers. "Brendon, fuck, fuck," he says, and he's shaking a little.
Spencer slumps back into the pillows and Brendon raises his head until they're looking at each other, all shadows in the dark except for the pale blue rings of Spencer's eyes. He looks young, Brendon thinks, and its odd because Spencer always had old man eyes. Maybe it was all the hiding, because Brendon's never seen Spencer this open in his entire life -- half-amazed, half-terrified-- and he can't stop himself from leaning in and kissing him again.
"You're sure?" Spencer says when Brendon pulls back for air, and fuck, honestly Brendon's not really sure about most of his life right now, but he needs this. He shoves Spencer's shirt up to his armpits and leans down to flick his tongue over Spencer's nipple. Spencer makes a high keening noise and Brendon actually laughs.
"Okay, how did I not know about this?" he asks and Spencer's blushing pink, his breath still hitching as Brendon mouths his way across Spencer's chest to suck lightly on his other nipple.
"Right, like I was going to give you any more ammunition," Spencer looks down at him and Brendon nods thoughtfully.
"Point."
Spencer tugs him back up and they kiss for a while, stopping to pull their shirts off. Brendon's learning Spencer in ways he never really thought he'd get to-- the nipple thing is pretty awesome, but so is the way Spencer scrapes his teeth lightly over Brendon's neck, and the way his grip tightens in Brendon's hair when Brendon traces his fingers along the waist of Spencer's soft sleep pants. "Bren," he gasps a little when Brendon moves his thigh up, presses down, and fuck. Brendon's been hard for a while, and the hard line of Spencer's cock is pressing into his leg. He pushes his face into the crook of Spencer's neck when he thrusts up, just a little.
"Yeah, yes," Brendon pants, rolling down into Spencer's hips. Spencer moans low in his chest, grabs Brendon's ass with one hand and there's no way they're stopping this.
Spencer's hips are legendary, really, and Brendon knew it would be like this if they ever slept together, all rolling hips and deep kisses that make Brendon dizzy. They rut against each other until Brendon thinks his dick might be rubbed raw from the soft cotton of Spencer's boxers (he's wearing Spencer's boxers, and holy shit, that's a sexy thought in and of itself). His lips are tender from half a million passes over the morning stubble on Spencer's throat. Spencer can have singular focus and he distracts Brendon from any attempt at getting his hand down Spencer's pants. Finally, he slips his hand down the back of Brendon's boxers and his finger slides into the cleft of Brendon's ass, pressing down, teasing just a little. He murmurs "come on, come on," teeth scraping the shell of Brendon's ear, and Brendon doesn't even try to hold back. The noise he makes when he comes would almost be embarrassing if it didn't make Spencer moan. He grabs Spencer's hip when he starts to thrust up again. The sensation is too much, sharp lines of electricity up his still tingling spine. Spencer stills, and Brendon takes a long minute to get his breath back.
"You okay?" Spencer asks, lips pressed to his hair, and Brendon manages a weak laugh.
"Yeah, I think so." Spencer is still hard, his hips practically vibrating with the effort of not moving. Brendon shifts his thigh a fraction and he can feel Spencer's stomach tighten. "Wait, let me," Brendon breathes and pushes back onto his knees. When he tucks his fingers into the hem of Spencer's pants, Spencer's eyes flutter closed for a second.
"Brendon--"
"Don't tell me you haven't thought of this," Brendon smiles. He can almost feel his toes again, and he's slow, deliberate as he pulls Spencer's pants down over his hips until Spencer's cock is laying heavy and hard against his belly.
Spencer doesn't laugh like Brendon thinks he will. He just opens his eyes and gazes down at Brendon with wide, dark eyes, and Brendon's stomach flips. Spencer's thought about this for eight years, more, and Brendon has a sudden desire to make Spencer come so hard he won't be able to see. Spencer deserves that. Spencer deserves everything Brendon can give him. He leans in and kisses the crease of Spencer's hip, runs the tip of his tongue across coarse hair to kiss the other side. He hasn't done this a lot (not as much as Spencer probably thinks seeing as Brendon has a habit of exaggerating his conquests) but Spencer's stomach quivers under his fingers and Brendon thinks he's doing okay.
When his lips brush the base of Spencer's cock, Spencer inhales sharply. His fingers wind in the sheets, but his hips stay still. Brendon grins against his skin and reaches out to untangle Spencer's hand. He slowly works his mouth up until he can slide the plane of his tongue across the head, and gently pushes Spencer's hand into his hair just before he sucks and slides down as far as he can. Spencer's control slips enough that he pulls hard at Brendon's hair with a stuttered "sh-shit".
Brendon can't do anything but moan and Spencer's hips finally jerk, the head of his cock bumping the roof of Brendon's mouth. Brendon smoothes his hand over Spencer's hip and makes what he hopes is an encouraging sound. When he flicks his eyes up, Spencer is watching, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. For a quick second Brendon wonders at how different Spencer looks like this, but he can't tell if it's the angle or the added years.
Brendon feels really young suddenly, fumbling, like the time he hooked up with a boy in the seedy green room of a nameless venue. But Spencer's thumb traces over the rise of his cheek and Brendon closes his eyes and focuses on the slick tang of Spencer's cock, the small hitched breaths he's making. He doesn't try for anything fancy because he doesn't know anything fancy, but he does add the press of his tongue to the sensitive underside of Spencer's cock, repeating it a few times when it pulls a low groan from his chest. "Bren, m'close," he gets out through clenched teeth, and Brendon hollows his cheeks and waits until the first few drops land hot and sticky on his tongue before pulling off and jerking Spencer off through the aftershocks. He's gorgeous, pale and perfect where his body expands and contracts through his orgasm, but Brendon can see another scar along his ribcage, harsher than the other, and he presses his forehead to Spencer's belly and closes his eyes.
Spencer's breaths are coming hard and fast as Brendon crawls up his body. Brendon's boxers are a little gross now that he's paying attention, and he plants a line of kisses along Spencer's shoulder before he rolls out of bed and gets himself cleaned up. He pads back to bed naked, warm washcloth in hand, and finds Spencer watching him again. He quirks his eyebrow before tossing the wet cloth on Spencer's chest.
"See something you like, Smith?" he asks, low and teasing. His smile freezes when he remembers saying the exact same thing to Spencer three days ago, Spencer's eyes following him as he got out of the hot tub at the cabin. Those three days were a lifetime to Spencer. It's finally sinking in, he thinks, like his brain is detached from his body-- his chest is too tight, the whole room a little off kilter, and Brendon's eyesight blurs at the edges.
Spencer must see something on his face because he's off the bed like a shot, steering Brendon to the bed by the elbow until they're sitting side by side. Spencer pushes at the back of Brendon's neck until he's bent over double. "Breathe," he murmurs, his thumb stroking behind Brendon's ear. "I know, trust me, just breathe."
"This is so fucked up," Brendon's voice is small and tight in his own ears, and he can feel Spencer stiffen a little. "Not you, fuck," Brendon says, his head still down, and reaches out to squeeze Spencer's knee. "Just. Everything else."
"Yeah," Spencer says, and they just sit there in the quiet until Brendon's breathing normally again.
"What's going to happen now?" Brendon asks, and god, he sounds so fucking young, but he guesses that to the rest of them he actually is that young. He slumps against Spencer's side and presses his nose to the hollow of Spencer's throat.
Spencer takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I don't know. We'll get some sleep, and take things as they come tomorrow. But I'm here, okay?"
"You sure you're going to be up for this?" Brendon asks, because Spencer doesn't seem broken, not really, but there's something about him now that's... fragile.
Spencer just laughs. "I've been in training for this day for years," he says. "Come on, let's sleep."
And they do.
*
The pounding on the door wakes Brendon up at five am. Spencer is wrapped around him sleeping soundly, but the next round of pounding is louder, with a "WAKE UP, COME ON, THERE ISN'T A LOT OF TIME" on the other side. "What the fuck?" Spencer blinks up at him blearily.
"Gabe," Brendon says, and Spencer rolls his eyes. The pounding continues until Spencer finally gets out of bed, tugging on his sleep pants, and goes to open the door.
"Gabe, it's not even dawn--" he starts, but Gabe pushes into the room and points at Brendon.
"Come on, kiddo, get up, we're on a deadline." He's still in his ridiculous t-shirt. Brendon wonders if he's slept at all.
"Gabe," Spencer intervenes, trying to him back to the door by his arm. "This is not the best day for this--"
"I'm sorry, I am," Gabe starts, and he's not high, Brendon can tell. He's not high, and he's awake, and he's serious. Brendon sits up in bed, the covers strategically covering all his naked parts.
"Gabe, what--"
"It was an accident," Gabe says, his voice a little pleading. "But he's going to get you home, Urie, so put on some pants and let's go."
"Home?" Brendon says at the same time Spencer asks "Who?"
Gabe blinks at them. "The Cobra," he says clearly. "He can get you back where you belong. Or, I guess, when. He sort of dropped you off in the wrong year."
Brendon lets out a short, surprised laugh.
Spencer doesn't find this funny at all. In fact, he finds it so not funny he goes to get Ryan, but Brendon can feel his heart pounding in his chest. Gabe doesn't even blink at his nakedness when he goes to the bathroom to put on his clothes. Gabe's crazy, but this whole thing is crazy, and maybe... "Make sure you have all the stuff you came with, and not anything else," Gabe says sternly, like he's practiced this speech before. Alex appears in the doorway.
"Seriously, what the hell is the holdup?" he says, and Gabe throws his arms up in frustration.
"This is so beyond fucked up, I can't even tell you," Spencer says from the hallway, arms crossed, and Ryan is pushing into the room past Alex.
"You don't have to listen to this, Bren," Ryan says, his voice rough with sleep, and Brendon can hear the faint crying down the hall of a baby who's been woken up too soon, and his throat feels tight and hot. He's missed a lot. Too much, maybe.
"What if he's not lying," Brendon says, and looks around for his keys before remembering he didn't have them in the first place.
"That's insane, there are no such thing as time-traveling cobras."
"Yeah, well, people don't come back from the dead either." Jon is in the doorway now, his hair tucked under a Cubs hat. "Maybe we need to redefine 'insane.'" Brendon squeezes Jon's hand. Brendon's lavendar hoodie is still at Ryan's place, but the rest of his clothes are the same, and he nods at Gabe.
*
The whole group of them (Ryan refuses to let Brendon go anywhere alone with Cobra Starship, and Spencer refuses to let Brendon out of his sight, and Brendon refuses to let Jon be left behind) take a service elevator up to the top floor of the hotel, and then all of them are pounding up a small set of metal stairs after Alex and Gabe. The roof is surprisingly unkempt, covered in spare bolts of wire and stacks of roofing paper. The neon shine of the hotel's signature guitar casts a weird light around in the pre-dawn.
In one corner of the rooftop, there is a silver sphere about a hundred feet across, and it's floating a foot off the ground.
Somehow its not the strangest thing that's happened to Brendon all day.
Nate is sitting on the tarred roof next to it, smoking a cigarette. "Man, he was gonna be pissed if you got here after sunrise," he says, putting the butt out on the heel of his shoe and standing up. Brendon has stopped short about fifty feet from the sphere, and he can feel Spencer behind him, Ryan and Jon just to his left.
"Victoria, they're here!" Nate calls and a door falls open seemingly from nowhere. Vicky jogs down the slim metal ramp in a flouncing black and yellow sundress.
"He's all set, just needed to make adjustments for that solar flare, or whatever." She smiles when she sees Brendon. "Hey!" she says cheerfully and Brendon lifts one hand in a half-hearted wave. This actually is insane.
"C'mon," Gabe says impatiently and herds them all forward until Brendon can see inside the sphere. Ryland's head is visible over a console. "Oh, awesome," Ryland says, and waves Brendon toward the ramp. "Come on, we only have a ten minute window."
Brendon balks. Thinking that time travel is possible and actually traveling through time are two very different things. Jon peers over his shoulder. Spencer's hand is tight on his elbow. Ryan's the only one who can find his voice at all.
"So. Um. Where's the cobra?" he asks, and Brendon really thinks he would have started with something else, but okay.
Gabe just tilts his head. "This is The Cobra," he says, and waves his arm at the spaceship, gently bobbing on a cushion of air as Ryland strides down the platform.
"The cobra is a spaceship," Ryan says, deadpan, and Brendon can feel Jon giggle a little next to him. His breathing is also all weird so it's probably a little hysterical.
"The cobra is a starship," Gabe says, a little indignant, and Alex puts a hand on his shoulder.
"The cobra is a symbol," he smiles. "The starship is the starship. And he's really sorry about the mixup-- you weren't supposed to be gone for more than ten minutes."
"What--" Ryan asks, his hands flailing in front of him.
"He picked you up like he picks up everybody," Alex says calmly to Brendon, like this happens every day. Brendon is rethinking his position on Alex as the sane one in Cobra Starship.
"Everybody?" Ryan's voice is a little squeaky.
"Well, everyone he thinks can help us," Ryland says with an apologetic smile. "It's usually a quick scan, then back in time to right back where you came from, none the wiser. But there was some sort of solar flare when he picked you up, and his calculations were off a tiny bit."
"A tiny bit," Jon says, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Look, eight years is like half a second to this guy," Gabe says. "It was an honest mistake, and he's going to fix it, but you've GOT to get a move on, dude."
Spencer puts his hand on the small of Brendon's back. It feels like an anchor and Brendon leans into the touch.
"Brendon is NOT getting in that thing!" Ryan practically shouts, and Brendon winces.
"So you want him to be a freakshow until the end of time? You think the FBI is going to take "I don't know" as an answer forever? Especially since he medically hasn't aged a day? He doesn't belong here," Gabe shoots back.
Spencer goes totally still behind him and Brendon turns around to take his hand. "Hey, it's okay, I promised I wouldn't go, Spence. This is crazy."
"This whole thing is crazy," Spencer whispers, still looking past Brendon at the starship. "But you don't belong here, that's true."
"Spence," Brendon pleads, squeezes his fingers, and when Spencer finally looks at him, Brendon can see that his eyes are clear and focused.
"You have to go," he says firmly and Ryan makes a strangled noise beside them. "No, Ry, he has to go. This is safe?" he shoots at Gabe. "This is going to work?"
"Yes," Gabe says with absolute certainty and Ryland nods next to him.
"Okay," he looks Brendon in the eyes. "I got my second chance."
"Spence--" Brendon tries to cut in desperately because he can't do this to Spencer again, no matter how awful things might get for him here.
"I said everything I had to say, and I'll know you're safe, and maybe none of this will ever have happened." Brendon sees a flash of hope in Spencer's eyes at that, and he finally understands.
"You think... I don't know if that's how it works," Brendon whispers and Spencer nods.
"Maybe not, but at least some version of me won't have to live through this," he says tightly. "And you won't have to deal with the insanity that's about to become your life."
Ryan presses in at Brendon's elbow. "You don't have to do this," he says roughly, and Brendon leans into him a little.
He reaches out a hand for Jon. "What do you think?" he asks, because Jon's opinion always mattered. Jon always saw the big picture.
"I think you should do what makes sense to you," he says quietly, looking from Brendon to Spencer. "It's a leap of faith, but sometimes those have the best payout."
"Okay," Brendon says, and takes a deep breath. Spencer smiles. Brendon looks over him shoulder at Gabe. "Okay."
"All right, lets go!" Gabe says with a huge grin. The rest of his band jog a few feet out of the way as the starship starts to hum.
"Bren," Ryan says, and Brendon can tell he's not okay with any of this. He pulls him in for a tight hug.
"You're just fine, Ryan Ross," he says low in his ear. "I'm ridiculously proud of you." Ryan hugs him back hard enough to bruise.
Jon's hugs is less desperate, but somehow more sad. Brendon plants a kiss to his temple before whispering, "They miss you." Jon nods, and Brendon can tell he's trying not to cry. "I'll miss you too," he adds and Jon just holds on tight for a second before stepping back.
"Don't mess up the future with your evil time traveling knowledge," he says with mock seriousness, his eyes shining, and Brendon laughs.
"Like anyone would believe me."
Spencer takes his hand and Brendon can feel the urge to stay tugging on him. Back home, Spencer wouldn't ever look at him like this, with eyes full of warmth and wonder. He leans in for a kiss. "I love you," he says softly and Spencer smiles against his mouth.
"I love you too."
"You sure you can do this?" Brendon asks. "I promised not to disappear--"
"Yeah, but this time I'll know where you are," he says with a squeeze to Brendon's hand. "You'll be with me."
"Yeah," Brendon says, his heart already aching, and Spencer cups his chin, forces his gaze up.
"Don't let me fuck it up, Bren," he says seriously. "I'm going to be a douchewad about it, but don't ever believe me if I say I don't love you. I was a fucking idiot when I was nineteen."
"Noted," Brendon says with a watery smile. "I'll try to tread lightly."
"Not too lightly," Spencer smiles back and Brendon wraps his arms around Spencer's neck for a full body hug.
"I'll see you soon," he whispers low in Spencer's ear before pulling back for one last kiss. It's sweet and soft, with the hint of a gasp at the end, and Brendon files it away in his memory. It might be a long time before he gets to kiss Spencer like this again, but it certainly won't be never. Brendon's tenacious like that.
"Urie, last chance!" Gabe shouts, and suddenly the hum from the starship is loud enough to make the air around them vibrate. Brendon gives one last wave and runs up the ramp.
*
There's nothing inside but the console, covered in strange glowing symbols Brendon doesn't understand. The whole starship raises up fast enough that Brendon can feel the swoosh of it in his stomach. A voice from all around him says "Yo, you may want to sit down."
Brendon just blinks at the console. The spaceship is talking to him?
"Starship," the voice says, like it can read Brendon's mind. "And suit yourself, dude, but we're about to go really fast."
Brendon is halfway to a sitting position, legs crossed under him, when the starship bucks forward with enough force to send him skidding across the slick metal floor. He sees the wall coming and thinks "fuck, not again" before everything goes black.
*
It's dark when he blinks his eyes open, and Brendon's head hurts like a son of a bitch. His ass is cold and a little clammy and there is the rustle of dead leaves when he moves. He scrambles to his knees and yeah, this is the same spot in the woods where he lost his footing. It's deja vu for a moment until he catches sight of his phone sitting on the hill a few feet away. Brendon laughs out loud, his whole body giddy with excitement as he scrambles up the hill, phone in hand, and runs down the path back to the cabin.
He knows for sure the trip back worked when he rounds the corner and Ryan and Spencer's cars are there, a light shining out of the kitchen window. Brendon nearly pulls the door off its hinges trying to open it.
"Hey," Jon says from his seat on the couch. He's got a bowl of mac and cheese in his lap, and his hair is sticking up in back. "We were about to send out a search party," he says with a grin and Brendon launches himself from the doorway to wrap his arms around Jon's neck.
"Don't ever leave us, okay?" he mumbles into Jon's shirt and Jon just laughs and pats him on the arm.
"Okay," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and Brendon thinks this is home.
Ryan appears from the hall and frowns at Brendon. "You went out in a t-shirt? How are you not freezing?" Ryan's haircut (or maybe lack of haircut) is ridiculous, and Brendon can't help his wide, stupid smile.
"Such a mother hen," he says fondly and Ryan huffs.
"Whatever, get pneumonia and die, see if I care," he shrugs and shuffles toward the kitchen.
Brendon catches his arm and gives him a quick squeeze around the waist. "You'd care," he says and Ryan shoves him off, but he's smiling a little.
"You're a total spaz, you know that," he says and Brendon feels like he wants to pick up Jon and Ryan and dance around like a fucking madman, but first. First.
"Is Spence in his room?" he asks and Ryan's smile fades a little.
"Yeah, but I wouldn't go in there. He's fucking pissed at you dude."
"Yeah," Brendon says, and he should be cautious, he knows he should, but it's Spencer, who is probably upstairs pining for him, and he bounces a little on the balls of his feet. "I'll just apologize," he says with a smile and takes the stairs two at a time until he's outside Spencer's door.
Spencer's playing The Eagles loud enough that Brendon can hear every word, so he doesn't bother knocking. He just opens the door wide enough to peek in and sees Spencer laying on his bed, bare feet propped up on his pillow. He's reading a Steinbeck novel, something Brendon remembers from high school. He's sporting almost enough scruff to count as a beard and Brendon wonders what it would feel like on his skin and has to bite his lip to keep from making a sound.
"Hey," he says, stepping into the room and leaning on the door to close it. He keeps his hands tucked behind him, palms against the cool wood of the door. His heart is racing a mile a minute and he forces his face into a friendly half-smile.
Spencer doesn't even put his book down; he hits pause on his stereo and glares at Brendon over the top. "What the fuck do you want?"
"I guess... I wanted to say I'm sorry," he starts.
"You guess," Spencer spits back at him, and Brendon ducks his head. It's only been a day, really, since he's seen Spencer like this, but it's like he's forgotten how closed off Spencer can get, how defensive and arrogant and... scared. It never looked like fear to Brendon before, but he knows better now.
"I'm sorry," Brendon says quietly, trying his best catch Spencer's eyes. He means it to count for a lot more than his hissy fit, but he's not sure how to say it. Spencer puts his book down and sits up, and at least Brendon has his attention.
"You just think everything is about you, Brendon. You think that everyone is just here to fucking entertain you. And sometimes," Spencer pauses, his fingers tightening around the edge of his mattress. "Sometimes there's shit going on you don't fucking know about, okay? Sometimes I just want to be left the fuck alone."
"Okay," Brendon says, and he means it. He's not going to push this, not knowing how amazing the end could be. He's not going to risk pushing Spencer away.
"You're really fucking hard to be friends with sometimes, you know that?" Spencer says, his gaze landing on Brendon's neck. Brendon wonders too late if there's a mark there from the other Spencer, remembers the feeling of teeth against his throat and he can't stop the blush that creeps over his cheeks.
"I know," Brendon manages faintly and Spencer blinks down at the floor. "Maybe that means we're not supposed to be friends," he says and smiles a little when Spencer's head jerks up. He wants to drop to his knees and kiss Spencer senseless, but he grabs the doorknob instead and lets himself out.
He's treading lightly, here. Oh so fucking lightly.
The next morning, Brendon runs into Spencer in the kitchen and bumps his shoulder as they both reach for the coffee pot. Brendon grins at him and Spencer shakes his head and cracks a smile. "Hey, is there sugar?" Brendon says and reaches over Spencer's shoulder for the sugar container on the shelf above the sink.
Spencer snorts. "Like you need it."
As he lowers his hand, Brendon lets his knuckles brush over Spencer's nipple through his t-shirt and licks his lips as Spencer takes a nearly-silent breath. Brendon waits a beat before taking a step back and pouring the sugar into his coffee.
Not too lightly, he remembers, and grins at Spencer over the edge of his mug.
Authors notes: The idea for this fic came from one of my favorite childhood films, Flight of the Navigator, and I want to thank all the people who let me flail at them about my "Flight of the Brendonator" fic for, oh, nearly a year. Thanks to the girls of Oxford House, including the West Coast Chapter and Team Canada, and anyone I was stuck in a car/van/plane/train with for more than an hour. Special thanks to my amazing beta o4fuxache, who is the Statler to my Waldorf and makes me laugh even when mocking my punctuation; to my cheerleading squad/reader/fanmixer siryn99 who actually made those high pitched noises only dogs can hear when I told her I was finished; and to my lovely roommate schuyler. This outtake is for her:
Ryan blinks. "Is there a snake flying that spaceship?" he asks, his eyes widening.
"No. There is a cobra flying that starship," Gabe answers, more than a hint of snugness in his voice and Spencer makes a choked noise.
"Well, then," Jon says calmly and they all look at him. He shrugs. "Well, it explains a LOT."