I'm Your Density
Bandslash, R, ~1400 words. Spencer/Brendon. Written for the virginity meme. Title from "Back to the Future."
***
Spencer isn't masturbating when Brendon-from-the-future causes a miniature earthquake by materializing in his room. He's looking at porn, yes, and he's hard--at least until the earthquake shocks the erection out of him--but his pants are closed and he's not touching himself.
"I wasn't," he insists, annoyed and still scared slightly shitless from the whole materialization incident. But Spencer is sixteen, and he has priorities. Defending his dignity comes first; asking questions about the laws of spacetime comes later.
Brendon is sprawled on the floor, hooting with laughter. He did not start out on the floor. He somehow managed to stay on his feet throughout the process of traveling through time, shaking the foundations of Spencer's house, and adjusting the ridiculous glasses he apparently still wears when he's twenty-four. But one look at the computer screen and his knees give out like Spencer's porn is the funniest thing he's ever encountered.
"It's not that weird," protests Spencer. "It's called... boo-cake. Lots of dudes are into it."
This seems to be the second-funniest thing Brendon has ever encountered. He rolls over onto his side and buries his face in his knees, gasping for air. Spencer folds his arms and waits, stone-faced, for him to compose himself.
When Brendon finally catches his breath, he says, "First of all, it's pronounced bukkake. Second, that is not bukkake, that's just a pearl necklace. Third, that's a woman. You're old enough to drive a car and you still haven't figured out that you're a big fat homo?"
Spencer gives him his best glare. "Are you here for a reason, or did you just want to pick on me while I'm littler than you?" he demands.
Brendon sits up and puffs out his skinny chest. "I am here to give you the deflowering of your life," he announces.
"Really." Spencer crosses his legs. "I could have sworn you just came barging in here, violated my privacy, mocked my porn, corrected my pronunciation, called me fat, and made assumptions about my sexual orientation. I must have been mistaken. A guy looking to get laid would never behave like that."
Brendon considers this for a moment, then says seriously, "I should tell you that in a few years you tug that stick out of your ass and start to develop a sense of humor. I know it's difficult to imagine now, but I promise it's true."
"Apparently in a few years you turn into a giant asshole," counters Spencer. "What the fuck. Who even gave you a time machine?"
"Oh yeah, you haven't met Gabe yet." Brendon grins. "Good man. If you don't ask too many questions about the other things in his basement besides the time machine. So!" He claps his hands. "Let's get rid of these clothes, huh?"
"No," says Spencer firmly. "I am not having sex with you."
"Your first time is gonna be a total clusterfuck otherwise," warns Brendon. "Your future self asked me to come give you a better one. I'm awesome in the sack, you love my cock."
"I'll take the clusterfuck."
Brendon rubs his head. "I should have had you write me a letter of reference for yourself or something. How about I just suck you off? C'mon, you're not really gonna turn down a blowjob, are you?"
"You're creepy and I don't like you," says Spencer. "Tell me everything that made you who you are so I can save my Brendon from the tragic fate of turning into a douchebag."
"I don't remember you being this much of a brat," says Brendon.
"It's a defense mechanism. When you poke a skunk, it sprays you. When you act like a jerk to me, I turn on bitch mode. Piss me off enough and I'll snap my fingers in a sassy Z-shape. It'll crush your spirit."
Brendon tries to suppress another guffaw and ends up producing a snorting noise Spencer has heard sixteen-year-old Brendon make countless times. It's odd to hear something so familiar from someone so strange.
"Okay," says Brendon. "Obviously I fucked this up. Can I try again?"
"Nope."
"Can I apologize?"
Spencer shakes his head. "That might've worked five minutes ago, but I think 'big fat homo' was the point of no return."
"My penis is enormous," tries Brendon. Spencer doesn't even bother responding to that one. Brendon sighs. "Fine. Mission failed. Don't blame me when your first time sucks donkey balls." He takes something that looks like a tiny microphone out of his pocket. "Beam me up, Gabey. What? Oh. I'm very sorry your illegal surveillance operation did not yield a lucrative underage porn video for you. Ass. Bring me back already or I'll tell Pete what you--"
He vanishes with another earthquake.
Half an hour later, Spencer walks into Brendon's apartment and hops up on the counter. "What would you say to someone if you wanted them to have sex with you?" he asks.
Brendon blinks at him from the floor, where he's sitting with a textbook because he's apparently a better person than Spencer is when it comes to afternoon entertainment. "Huh?"
"If you were trying to get laid," Spencer clarifies patiently. "How would you start the conversation? What lines would you use?"
Brendon closes his book, looking thoughtful. "I wouldn't, I don't think. I'm not really smooth enough to talk anyone into having sex with me right away. I'd try to get to know them. Probably end up friends with them and never get around to letting them know I was into them. I guess that's why I'm a virgin." He smiles a little sadly. "Why?"
Spencer kicks his heels against Brendon's kitchen cabinets. "So you wouldn't say something like, 'my penis is enormous.'"
Brendon's eyes go wide. He giggles uncomfortably. "I don't think anyone would actually say that."
"You'd be surprised," says Spencer darkly. He hops off the counter and sits down next to Brendon, leaning on his shoulder. "Stay you, okay? I like you this way."
Brendon's hand is shaking. Spencer looks at it for a moment, then at Brendon. "You okay?"
"Yeah," whispers Brendon, but he sounds weird. Spencer is about to press further when he suddenly blurts out, "I'm not smooth, I'm not smooth at all, I can't even stop, like, quivering here, and my penis is not enormous, but I want to have sex with you." He squeezes his eyes shut tight, like he's expecting Spencer to slap him or something.
Spencer doesn't slap him. He puts a hand on Brendon's cheek softly, waits for him to open his eyes, and kisses him. Brendon kisses back sloppily, like maybe he's never kissed anyone before. Spencer doesn't mind. Sloppy and sweet is better than skilled and douchebag.
They topple over slowly until they're on the floor, Spencer half on top. The textbook is digging into his leg a little. He knees at it clumsily and accidentally jabs Brendon in the hip. "Sorry," he murmurs. Brendon just pulls him closer, so he figures he's forgiven.
Normally Spencer might take it slow, just make out today and try for higher bases some other time, but he's a little freaked by Brendon-from-the-future's assurances about the horror of his first time. And Brendon did say he wanted sex. So Spencer goes for the pants.
Brendon does not object. The second he realizes where Spencer's hand is, he reaches down and eagerly shoves his pants and underwear around his thighs. Spencer suppresses a laugh (it's mean to laugh at people, he's taking a vow never to do it again) and rubs his hand tentatively over Brendon's dick. It's the first time he's touched anyone's besides his own, the first time he's even seen one hard in real life. He strokes it, gripping firmly the way he likes it. Brendon moans and comes in about twenty seconds.
Brendon smiles up at him beautifully, breathing hard. "So glad it's you," he says. "There's this creepy college guy who hangs out at the mall and hits on me all the time, and I was just about frustrated enough to take him up on it."
Something about the words hits Spencer hard in the chest. "Don't joke about that."
"Not joking." Brendon strokes Spencer's side, rucking up his shirt, dipping his fingers under Spencer's waistband. "I was seriously going to. Next week. I just wanted to get it over with, I didn't even care if it was good. I'm really glad it's you and not him."
"Yeah," says Spencer, and lets out a whooshing breath. "Yeah, me too."
***
Spencer isn't masturbating when Brendon-from-the-future causes a miniature earthquake by materializing in his room. He's looking at porn, yes, and he's hard--at least until the earthquake shocks the erection out of him--but his pants are closed and he's not touching himself.
"I wasn't," he insists, annoyed and still scared slightly shitless from the whole materialization incident. But Spencer is sixteen, and he has priorities. Defending his dignity comes first; asking questions about the laws of spacetime comes later.
Brendon is sprawled on the floor, hooting with laughter. He did not start out on the floor. He somehow managed to stay on his feet throughout the process of traveling through time, shaking the foundations of Spencer's house, and adjusting the ridiculous glasses he apparently still wears when he's twenty-four. But one look at the computer screen and his knees give out like Spencer's porn is the funniest thing he's ever encountered.
"It's not that weird," protests Spencer. "It's called... boo-cake. Lots of dudes are into it."
This seems to be the second-funniest thing Brendon has ever encountered. He rolls over onto his side and buries his face in his knees, gasping for air. Spencer folds his arms and waits, stone-faced, for him to compose himself.
When Brendon finally catches his breath, he says, "First of all, it's pronounced bukkake. Second, that is not bukkake, that's just a pearl necklace. Third, that's a woman. You're old enough to drive a car and you still haven't figured out that you're a big fat homo?"
Spencer gives him his best glare. "Are you here for a reason, or did you just want to pick on me while I'm littler than you?" he demands.
Brendon sits up and puffs out his skinny chest. "I am here to give you the deflowering of your life," he announces.
"Really." Spencer crosses his legs. "I could have sworn you just came barging in here, violated my privacy, mocked my porn, corrected my pronunciation, called me fat, and made assumptions about my sexual orientation. I must have been mistaken. A guy looking to get laid would never behave like that."
Brendon considers this for a moment, then says seriously, "I should tell you that in a few years you tug that stick out of your ass and start to develop a sense of humor. I know it's difficult to imagine now, but I promise it's true."
"Apparently in a few years you turn into a giant asshole," counters Spencer. "What the fuck. Who even gave you a time machine?"
"Oh yeah, you haven't met Gabe yet." Brendon grins. "Good man. If you don't ask too many questions about the other things in his basement besides the time machine. So!" He claps his hands. "Let's get rid of these clothes, huh?"
"No," says Spencer firmly. "I am not having sex with you."
"Your first time is gonna be a total clusterfuck otherwise," warns Brendon. "Your future self asked me to come give you a better one. I'm awesome in the sack, you love my cock."
"I'll take the clusterfuck."
Brendon rubs his head. "I should have had you write me a letter of reference for yourself or something. How about I just suck you off? C'mon, you're not really gonna turn down a blowjob, are you?"
"You're creepy and I don't like you," says Spencer. "Tell me everything that made you who you are so I can save my Brendon from the tragic fate of turning into a douchebag."
"I don't remember you being this much of a brat," says Brendon.
"It's a defense mechanism. When you poke a skunk, it sprays you. When you act like a jerk to me, I turn on bitch mode. Piss me off enough and I'll snap my fingers in a sassy Z-shape. It'll crush your spirit."
Brendon tries to suppress another guffaw and ends up producing a snorting noise Spencer has heard sixteen-year-old Brendon make countless times. It's odd to hear something so familiar from someone so strange.
"Okay," says Brendon. "Obviously I fucked this up. Can I try again?"
"Nope."
"Can I apologize?"
Spencer shakes his head. "That might've worked five minutes ago, but I think 'big fat homo' was the point of no return."
"My penis is enormous," tries Brendon. Spencer doesn't even bother responding to that one. Brendon sighs. "Fine. Mission failed. Don't blame me when your first time sucks donkey balls." He takes something that looks like a tiny microphone out of his pocket. "Beam me up, Gabey. What? Oh. I'm very sorry your illegal surveillance operation did not yield a lucrative underage porn video for you. Ass. Bring me back already or I'll tell Pete what you--"
He vanishes with another earthquake.
Half an hour later, Spencer walks into Brendon's apartment and hops up on the counter. "What would you say to someone if you wanted them to have sex with you?" he asks.
Brendon blinks at him from the floor, where he's sitting with a textbook because he's apparently a better person than Spencer is when it comes to afternoon entertainment. "Huh?"
"If you were trying to get laid," Spencer clarifies patiently. "How would you start the conversation? What lines would you use?"
Brendon closes his book, looking thoughtful. "I wouldn't, I don't think. I'm not really smooth enough to talk anyone into having sex with me right away. I'd try to get to know them. Probably end up friends with them and never get around to letting them know I was into them. I guess that's why I'm a virgin." He smiles a little sadly. "Why?"
Spencer kicks his heels against Brendon's kitchen cabinets. "So you wouldn't say something like, 'my penis is enormous.'"
Brendon's eyes go wide. He giggles uncomfortably. "I don't think anyone would actually say that."
"You'd be surprised," says Spencer darkly. He hops off the counter and sits down next to Brendon, leaning on his shoulder. "Stay you, okay? I like you this way."
Brendon's hand is shaking. Spencer looks at it for a moment, then at Brendon. "You okay?"
"Yeah," whispers Brendon, but he sounds weird. Spencer is about to press further when he suddenly blurts out, "I'm not smooth, I'm not smooth at all, I can't even stop, like, quivering here, and my penis is not enormous, but I want to have sex with you." He squeezes his eyes shut tight, like he's expecting Spencer to slap him or something.
Spencer doesn't slap him. He puts a hand on Brendon's cheek softly, waits for him to open his eyes, and kisses him. Brendon kisses back sloppily, like maybe he's never kissed anyone before. Spencer doesn't mind. Sloppy and sweet is better than skilled and douchebag.
They topple over slowly until they're on the floor, Spencer half on top. The textbook is digging into his leg a little. He knees at it clumsily and accidentally jabs Brendon in the hip. "Sorry," he murmurs. Brendon just pulls him closer, so he figures he's forgiven.
Normally Spencer might take it slow, just make out today and try for higher bases some other time, but he's a little freaked by Brendon-from-the-future's assurances about the horror of his first time. And Brendon did say he wanted sex. So Spencer goes for the pants.
Brendon does not object. The second he realizes where Spencer's hand is, he reaches down and eagerly shoves his pants and underwear around his thighs. Spencer suppresses a laugh (it's mean to laugh at people, he's taking a vow never to do it again) and rubs his hand tentatively over Brendon's dick. It's the first time he's touched anyone's besides his own, the first time he's even seen one hard in real life. He strokes it, gripping firmly the way he likes it. Brendon moans and comes in about twenty seconds.
Brendon smiles up at him beautifully, breathing hard. "So glad it's you," he says. "There's this creepy college guy who hangs out at the mall and hits on me all the time, and I was just about frustrated enough to take him up on it."
Something about the words hits Spencer hard in the chest. "Don't joke about that."
"Not joking." Brendon strokes Spencer's side, rucking up his shirt, dipping his fingers under Spencer's waistband. "I was seriously going to. Next week. I just wanted to get it over with, I didn't even care if it was good. I'm really glad it's you and not him."
"Yeah," says Spencer, and lets out a whooshing breath. "Yeah, me too."