untitled wake-up porn
fiction, 1,090 words, spencer/brendon for disarm_d. i'm not even pretending to beta this one, but i'll fix things as i notice them, i promise. written in about fifty minutes. also on ao3 here.
Spencer wakes up three times in the middle of the night and goes back to sleep each time, restless and confused. He might not sleep enough sometimes, but he pretty much always sleeps through the night.
It's when Brendon wakes him up, shivering, that Spencer realizes, oh hey, it's fucking cold.
"It's fucking cold," Brendon says, and hey, his teeth are actually chattering, that's amazing. "Dude, dude, lemme in there with you."
Spencer, really only half-awake, shifts over a little bit, frowning when Brendon has to pull back the blankets to climb in, curling his cold knees up against Spencer's pajama-clad thighs. "What," he begins, and forgets what he's asking when Brendon buries his face in Spencer's neck. Spencer startles back, "You're nose--it's, Brendon--"
"It's cold," Brendon says, muffled, "I know, c'mon. I'll warm up soon," he draws out the word like a promise, "go back to sleep."
Spencer grumbles under his breath, and then does.
It's warm when he next wakes up, really, really warm. Hot, even, perhaps stifling, but really the best kind of heated pressure--Spencer would never admit it, but he was always the kid who would wrap himself up in his blankets and just dwell in that cozy heat for hours. He shifts around a little before he's fully awake, stretching out his toes, blinking to look at the ceiling, finally lit properly by morning.
Brendon chooses that moment to remind him that he's there by rubbing his erection against Spencer's hip.
It actually takes Spencer a full three seconds to realize that that's what's going on, which is the only reason he takes as long as he does to futilely scoot backwards. He shouts, "Hey, what the fuck," but Brendon has attached himself like a limpet and is apparently still asleep, and Spencer had the side of the bed next to the wall. "Brendon, this is inappropriate touching," he tries, attempting to pull Brendon off of him.
He's rewarded with Brendon grinding closer, which, oh god, is maybe actually making Spencer a little happier than he likes to admit. He had promised himself there would be no shenanigans with his bandmates, he had promised Haley there would be no--no, wait, he hadn't promised her anything like that (she had once told him quite seriously that if there were photos of him and Ryan making out somewhere, she wouldn't be angry, he just had to show them to her, but c'mon, kissing Ryan would be like kissing his sisters or something: ultimately gross and vaguely incestuous and definitely not hot). "Brendon," he says, just barely keeping himself from hissing.
Brendon leans back all of an inch, and okay, Spencer maybe has this thing where he really is most attracted to people when they have that just-woken-up look, pillow creases imprinted in their cheeks, sleep in their eyes and not yet fully forming thoughts. He has no idea what a psychologist would say about this, but Brendon, with his mouth open just a little bit, his teeth just barely visible, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he concentrates--oh, really, c'mon. "What," Brendon says, starting to look cross. "Spencer, it's too early," Brendon says, and then Spencer can see the moment that Brendon understands the implications of their position, the way he's pushed up close against Spencer--
To hell with good intentions, Spencer decides, and twists until he's leaning over Brendon. "It's early enough for this," he says, and straddles Brendon's thigh, leaning down to kiss him, pressing forward with his hips at the same time. He pulls away just in time to see Brendon's eyes roll up, his eyelashes fluttering again as Spencer puts pressure on him in just the right way. Brendon makes a little gasping noise that makes Spencer just want to growl and bite him and hump him gracelessly until they both come.
The bed squeaks when he starts rubbing against Brendon for real, but what the hell, this is in no way the most embarrassing thing he's ever done, not even the most embarrassing he's ever done with Brendon, so he leans down again and bites Brendon's neck, just underneath his ear, and Brendon gasps and shudders underneath him, his hands scrabbling along Spencer's back and finally between both their bodies. "Spencer, Spencer," he says, panting, "wait, hang on," so Spencer hangs on for a second, sucking harder, and then pulls back again. He's maybe actually a little irritated to be stopped in the middle of his plan.
"This'll be," Brendon says, grinning up at him, his eyes shining, "so much better." He lifts his hips underneath Spencer's, scooting out of his pajamas just enough to free his dick, and then pulls Spencer's off helpfully as well. "C'mon, Spence," he says, leaning up, pulling Spencer back down with one hot arm around Spencer's neck, kissing him, wetly, eagerly. When they're lined up, which feels fucking amazing, just, yeah, fucking amazing--Brendon takes both their dicks in his hand, and it feels even better.
Spencer feels so fucking hot, like, maybe he'll think better of this later, but right now, with Brendon trying to fuck his mouth with his tongue and their bodies moving against each other under the blankets and Brendon's hand pressing their dicks together like that as they move, holy fuck, seriously, he's maybe never had a better idea than this, ever. He licks into Brendon's mouth and then goes back to his neck, the same place (there's already a bruise starting there), and he's getting so close, he's almost--
Brendon gasps, loud, when Spencer bites down again, and comes first, shuddering, hot and slick against their t-shirts and bellies and in his own hand. Spencer lets his head hang when he comes, only a moment later, still wrapped up in Brendon's now-slick hand, against Brendon's slowly-softening dick.
He lowers himself carefully onto his side, still under the blanket, pressing carefully against Brendon. He wants to take a nap. He feels so comfortable, warm, relaxed--he should have sex every morning, he decides.
"So, uh," Brendon says, surreptitiously wiping his hand on his t-shirt and curling back under Spencer's arm without any apparent consciousness of the action. He looks bright-eyed, which is somewhat unfortunate when Spencer seriously just wants to go back to sleep now, but there's something there that seems serious, in the corner of his smile, maybe. "Not to say I'm against what just happened, but, uh."
Spencer yawns and pulls Brendon closer. "I'm cool if you are, Urie."
"What does that mean," Brendon says, muffled again by Spencer's collarbone but not exactly struggling to free himself.
Spencer closes his eyes, and thinks about sending make-out pictures to Haley.
Spencer wakes up three times in the middle of the night and goes back to sleep each time, restless and confused. He might not sleep enough sometimes, but he pretty much always sleeps through the night.
It's when Brendon wakes him up, shivering, that Spencer realizes, oh hey, it's fucking cold.
"It's fucking cold," Brendon says, and hey, his teeth are actually chattering, that's amazing. "Dude, dude, lemme in there with you."
Spencer, really only half-awake, shifts over a little bit, frowning when Brendon has to pull back the blankets to climb in, curling his cold knees up against Spencer's pajama-clad thighs. "What," he begins, and forgets what he's asking when Brendon buries his face in Spencer's neck. Spencer startles back, "You're nose--it's, Brendon--"
"It's cold," Brendon says, muffled, "I know, c'mon. I'll warm up soon," he draws out the word like a promise, "go back to sleep."
Spencer grumbles under his breath, and then does.
It's warm when he next wakes up, really, really warm. Hot, even, perhaps stifling, but really the best kind of heated pressure--Spencer would never admit it, but he was always the kid who would wrap himself up in his blankets and just dwell in that cozy heat for hours. He shifts around a little before he's fully awake, stretching out his toes, blinking to look at the ceiling, finally lit properly by morning.
Brendon chooses that moment to remind him that he's there by rubbing his erection against Spencer's hip.
It actually takes Spencer a full three seconds to realize that that's what's going on, which is the only reason he takes as long as he does to futilely scoot backwards. He shouts, "Hey, what the fuck," but Brendon has attached himself like a limpet and is apparently still asleep, and Spencer had the side of the bed next to the wall. "Brendon, this is inappropriate touching," he tries, attempting to pull Brendon off of him.
He's rewarded with Brendon grinding closer, which, oh god, is maybe actually making Spencer a little happier than he likes to admit. He had promised himself there would be no shenanigans with his bandmates, he had promised Haley there would be no--no, wait, he hadn't promised her anything like that (she had once told him quite seriously that if there were photos of him and Ryan making out somewhere, she wouldn't be angry, he just had to show them to her, but c'mon, kissing Ryan would be like kissing his sisters or something: ultimately gross and vaguely incestuous and definitely not hot). "Brendon," he says, just barely keeping himself from hissing.
Brendon leans back all of an inch, and okay, Spencer maybe has this thing where he really is most attracted to people when they have that just-woken-up look, pillow creases imprinted in their cheeks, sleep in their eyes and not yet fully forming thoughts. He has no idea what a psychologist would say about this, but Brendon, with his mouth open just a little bit, his teeth just barely visible, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he concentrates--oh, really, c'mon. "What," Brendon says, starting to look cross. "Spencer, it's too early," Brendon says, and then Spencer can see the moment that Brendon understands the implications of their position, the way he's pushed up close against Spencer--
To hell with good intentions, Spencer decides, and twists until he's leaning over Brendon. "It's early enough for this," he says, and straddles Brendon's thigh, leaning down to kiss him, pressing forward with his hips at the same time. He pulls away just in time to see Brendon's eyes roll up, his eyelashes fluttering again as Spencer puts pressure on him in just the right way. Brendon makes a little gasping noise that makes Spencer just want to growl and bite him and hump him gracelessly until they both come.
The bed squeaks when he starts rubbing against Brendon for real, but what the hell, this is in no way the most embarrassing thing he's ever done, not even the most embarrassing he's ever done with Brendon, so he leans down again and bites Brendon's neck, just underneath his ear, and Brendon gasps and shudders underneath him, his hands scrabbling along Spencer's back and finally between both their bodies. "Spencer, Spencer," he says, panting, "wait, hang on," so Spencer hangs on for a second, sucking harder, and then pulls back again. He's maybe actually a little irritated to be stopped in the middle of his plan.
"This'll be," Brendon says, grinning up at him, his eyes shining, "so much better." He lifts his hips underneath Spencer's, scooting out of his pajamas just enough to free his dick, and then pulls Spencer's off helpfully as well. "C'mon, Spence," he says, leaning up, pulling Spencer back down with one hot arm around Spencer's neck, kissing him, wetly, eagerly. When they're lined up, which feels fucking amazing, just, yeah, fucking amazing--Brendon takes both their dicks in his hand, and it feels even better.
Spencer feels so fucking hot, like, maybe he'll think better of this later, but right now, with Brendon trying to fuck his mouth with his tongue and their bodies moving against each other under the blankets and Brendon's hand pressing their dicks together like that as they move, holy fuck, seriously, he's maybe never had a better idea than this, ever. He licks into Brendon's mouth and then goes back to his neck, the same place (there's already a bruise starting there), and he's getting so close, he's almost--
Brendon gasps, loud, when Spencer bites down again, and comes first, shuddering, hot and slick against their t-shirts and bellies and in his own hand. Spencer lets his head hang when he comes, only a moment later, still wrapped up in Brendon's now-slick hand, against Brendon's slowly-softening dick.
He lowers himself carefully onto his side, still under the blanket, pressing carefully against Brendon. He wants to take a nap. He feels so comfortable, warm, relaxed--he should have sex every morning, he decides.
"So, uh," Brendon says, surreptitiously wiping his hand on his t-shirt and curling back under Spencer's arm without any apparent consciousness of the action. He looks bright-eyed, which is somewhat unfortunate when Spencer seriously just wants to go back to sleep now, but there's something there that seems serious, in the corner of his smile, maybe. "Not to say I'm against what just happened, but, uh."
Spencer yawns and pulls Brendon closer. "I'm cool if you are, Urie."
"What does that mean," Brendon says, muffled again by Spencer's collarbone but not exactly struggling to free himself.
Spencer closes his eyes, and thinks about sending make-out pictures to Haley.