[pornmas] day 3.
Summary: Brendon gets corset piercings, Spencer gets a hard on. My pornmas summaries are way witty.
Fandom/Pairings: Bandom; Spencer/Brendon
Rating: R.
Pre-Notes: For the record CORSAGE PIERCINGS would be very different from CORSET PIERCINGS, which is what today's porn is about. Also no one should let me twitter while sleep deprived.
Disclaimer: This is lies. Lots of lies.
----
ribbons through rings
The first time Brendon gets the corset piercings, Spencer watches, mesmerized by the six rings being put into the smooth expanse of Brendon's skin. Spencer isn't sure why Brendon wants them, isn't sure what the point is when they'll be coming out in a few days, Brendon had said hey, Spencer, come watch me get the piercings and Spencer had said yes, because how did you turn up something like that? You don't, and so Spencer watches, mesmerized, as the six rings go in and then the guy gives Brendon a ridiculously long list of care and cleaning instructions, which Brendon nods along to at he carefully slips his shirt back on. Then, they're out of there and Spencer can't help but touch his hand to Brendon's lower back, even though that's nowhere near the piercings. Brendon shivers, and Spencer thinks that even if the corset piercings make no sense? They're fucking hot, and Spencer is not someone to look a gift horse in the mouth.
When the rings have healed enough to lace something through them, Spencer steals some black ribbon from Ryan, who won't miss it, and laces the rings on Brendon's back into patterns he remembers from his sisters' clothing. Brendon's breath hitches at even the slightest tug, and Spencer fights to keep his breathing even. When the rings are laced up, Spencer ties the tails into a loose bow and watches as Brendon slips his shirt back out, letting out a hiss of breath as the fabric slid over the rings. Spencer stares, can't do anything but stare, at the faintest hint of the existence of the ribbon and the rings. Once he knows what he's looking for, though, it's almost impossible to look away. Brendon calls him a couple of time, trying to get his attention, and Spencer snapped out of his weird trance and smiled at him.
“Yeah?”
“We have sound check like, five minutes ago.”
“Shit.”
Brendon laughs, but it's fond and exacerbated, not demeaning. Then they're walking to sound check and it suddenly dawns on Spencer that he has to sit behind Brendon for the entire show and he'll have a perfect view of the piercings under Brendon's shirt. He is so totally screwed.
----
The second time, Pete drops Brendon back on their bus and Spencer raises an eyebrow, but Pete only gives him a shit-eating grin before disappearing to wherever. Brendon, for his part, just wanders into the bus and flops down, face first, onto his bunk. Spencer hovers outside the bunk, unsure of what's going on until Brendon gives a half-coherent mumble and Spencer blinks.
“Again?”
“Yeah,” Brendon mumbles, “they're sore at the moment, it was probably a bad idea to do them before a show.”
“You,” Spencer sighs, “are a total idiot.”
Instead of leaving Brendon to wallow in his pain, though, Spencer sits in the narrow walkway between the bunks and talks to Brendon until they have to go to sound check. And if Spencer covers Brendon's weird fuck-ups that night, well. It's unlikely anyone noticed, right?
---
The third time, it's a day or two and Spencer doesn't find out until Brendon materializes in front of time with a length of blue ribbon. For a moment, Spencer finds it hard to breathe, and then he carefully takes the ribbon from Brendon. Brendon takes off his shirt carefully, exposing the smooth expanse of his back, and Spencer resists the urge to run his fingers along Brendon's spine. Instead, he laces the rings deftly, letting the tips of his fingers bush against Brendon's spine for a moment when he's tying the tails into a bow. Spencer thinks that Brendon's breath might hitch the tiniest bit when Spencer's fingers brush over his skin, but it's probably all in Spencer's head.
He's going a little bit crazy. Anyone would, having to play shows watching Brendon's back, watching the sweat soak through and make the ribbon more and more visible as the show goes on. It's fucking mesmerizing, and it's hard to remember how to play drums when he's got that in his line of sight almost the entire show, but Spencer manages somehow. He always manages during those long, grueling weeks where he laces up Brendon every night, fingertips always briefly brushing over the bumps of Brendon's spine.
If Brendon notices Spencer watching, though, he never says a word.
----
The fourth time, Spencer snaps. He's lacing up the rings, and his fingertips brush along Brendon's spine like always. But then, then Spencer can't take the beauty of satin ribbon criss-crossing Brendon's back any longer. He takes the single step to close the gap between them and presses a kiss to the place between Brendon's shoulder blades where the ribbon first crosses over itself. Brendon's normally regulated and even breathing hitches and Spencer wraps an arm around Brendon's waist, holding them together but not actually applying pressure to the piercings. Brendon's breathing still hasn't recovered.
“Spencer,” Brendon chokes out, “Spencer we have to . . .”
They have to go to sound check. Spencer realizes this, so he removes his arm from around Brendon's waist and presses one more kiss to the ribbons. Brendon takes a ragged breath before carefully pulling his shirt over his head. When he lifts his head to look at Spencer, he's smiling and there's something about it that Spencer can't quite place. It's like a promise and a challenge rolled into one, and Spencer's breath catches in his throat.
“Come one, Bren,” Spencer manages, “we're going to be late.”
“Right.”
Spencer blinks, and then they're themselves again. It's like nothing happened between them, and he isn't sure if it's a dream or not. In fact, he's damned sure it is a dream until Brendon catches his eye during the show and winks. It's the kind of unsubtle Spencer has come to associate with Brendon, and it makes him smile. He smiles through the rest of the show and he's still smiling when they get off stage and shipped to a hotel to get some actual rest. Normally Brendon rooms with Jon, but Brendon must have pulled some strings or bribed Zack somehow, because Brendon and Spencer are sharing that night. Ryan raises an eyebrow, which Spencer knows means something like this is weird. Spencer gives a shrug that means sorry, wasn't my doing back, and then he's being dragged away to the room by Brendon.
They're barely inside the door when Brendon is pushing Spencer up against it and kissing him like Spencer is the only source of oxygen in the world. It's hot and messy and Spencer's hand ghosts over Brendon's back before settling in his hair and on his hip. Brendon moans, and Spencer is a little overwhelmed. He's pretty sure that he doesn't live in a porno, so there isn't just sudden and random sex in his life. Except for how there obviously is going to be some, judging by the way Brendon is moving his hips. Spencer manages to pull away long enough to try and catch his breath.
“There's a bed,” Spencer says, voice huskier than he remembers, “over there.”
“Spencer,” Brendon laughs, a little breathless, “you have the best ideas.”
This is something they'll need to talk about later, but for the moment they stumble toward the bed, Spencer turning them so that he lands on the bed. Straddling him, Brendon pulls his shirt off and Spencer can't help it. He runs his hand over Brendon's back, finger's tracing the path of slightly damp satin ribbon and running lightly over the piercings. Brendon keens, clutching onto Spencer's shoulders tightly. They're not going to get very far like this, so Spencer lets his hand fall to the bed and pulls off his own shirt instead. Brendon runs his hands over the newly exposed skin, and Spencer reaches for Brendon's jeans, fumbling with them for a moment before he gets them open. Unsurprisingly, Brendon isn't wearing any underwear, and Spencer runs a hand over Brendon's hip and Brendon pulls away.
Spencer is going to complain, but Brendon moves away to shimmy out of his jeans. It's something Spencer has seen at least a dozen times before, because they all live together and Brendon has always been bad about keeping his clothes on, but it seems different this time. More sensual. Maybe it's the way Brendon holds his shoulders, trying not to pull the lacing tight, or maybe it's just that Brendon is looking at Spencer with such absolute want that Spencer has to take a deep breath. Brendon smiles the filthy, dirty, “fuck me,” curl of lips that teenage girls everywhere have had their first orgasm to. Spencer can't breathe, can't hear anything but the beat of his heart skipping beats in an awful cacophony . Brendon leans forward, lips to Spencer's ear.
“I've got more wit, a better kiss, hotter touch, a better fuck,” Brendon whispers against Spencer's ear, and it's so cheesy that Spencer wants to laugh but Brendon's voice is mesmerizing. “than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me.”
“Please don't,” Spencer chokes out, “talk about Ryan when we're about to have sex.”
Brendon laughs, the rich, deep sound running counterpoint to Spencer's settling heartbeat. Spencer groans as Brendon's hands settle at the waist of his jeans and linger for a moment before quickly unfastening them and pushing them down. Spencer lifts his hips a little and is only mildly surprised when Brendon pulls Spencr's jeans and boxers down to his knees in one smooth motion. Spencer wiggles the rest of the way out of them to avoid looking at Brendon sitting on his knees, the dark ribbon glistening and absolutely gorgeous against his skin, and just looking at Spencer.
Once Spencer's jeans are discarded, Brendon rises and goes back to straddling Spencer. Spencer's hands automatically go to the sections ribbons, skating over them and every once in a while brushing over one of the piercings. It makes Brendon's breath hitch, and Spencer likes the sound too much so he keep running his fingers over the area, unable to get enough of the way Brendon is writhing against him.
Somehow, Brendon manages to slip a hand between them and fist both their cocks at once and Spencer's hand stutter, accidentally tugging on one of the ribbons. Brendon cries out, pressing himself to Spencer and speeding up his hands. Experimentally, Spencer tugs gently on the ribbons and Brendon whimpers against Spencer which, huh. Interesting to know.
The thought doesn't stay in his brain for much longer, though, because they're both worked up and coming pretty soon after that. They stay put, Brendon's forehead resting on Spencer's shoulder, and just breathe until it doesn't feel like they're both going to die from their heart pounding too hard for their chests to contain. Brendon speaks first.
“Spencer,” Brendon says, barely above a whisper, “I . . .”
“We should talk about this,” Spencer cuts in, “but you need to get some sleep first, okay?”
Spencer feels Brendon's nod more than he sees it, and he's almost sorry when Brendon pulls away to disappear into the bathroom. He never wants the heat of Brendon's body to leave him, and something in him aches at the thought that this may never happen again, but then Brendon returns with a wet washcloth and slowly cleans Spencer off. Then he tosses the washcloth back into the bathroom and kisses Spencer. This kiss is slow and sweet, until the frantic kisses from earlier, and Spencer relaxes into it.
“I love you,” Brendon says against Spencer's lips, “goodnight, Spencer.”
“I love you too,” Spencer replies, “sleep well.”
It's almost too familiar and when Brendon pulls away, all Spencer wants to do is pull him back. Instead, he crawls under the covers and sleeps, hoping that this wasn't all a dream.
When he wakes up, Brendon is missing and he almost panics until he hears the water from the shower running. He stays where he is for a moment before getting out of bed and stretching. In the bathroom, the water shuts off and Spencer freezes. He's not really ready to talk to Brendon, even though they need to talk.
“Spencer.”
Without thinking at all, Spencer turns toward Brendon's voice like flowers turn to the sun. Brendon's hair is wet, dripping really, and he's not wearing anything but a smile. It shouldn't make Spencer blush, seeing as they've already had sex, but it does. He can feel the blood rushing to his face, and Brendon snickers.
“Hi,” Spencer manages.
“Hi,” Brendon grins, “so, we need to talk.”
“Yes. Yes, we need to talk about . . .”
Spencer makes a vague hand motion between the two of them and hopes that Brendon understands what he's trying to convey. He figures it's probably a good bet, considering that Brendon has been dealing with Ryan Ross for a pretty long time and Ryan's hand motions are way worse than Spencer's.
“Yeah. So here's the thing, I'm totally in love with you.”
In all of the times Spencer has played out this exact scene in his head, he's never imagined Brendon naked and he's never imagined it coming after sex. It usually leads to sex in his brain. So Spencer stares at Brendon for a couple of second, trying to form words.
“I . . . I,” Spencer makes a frustrated noise, “fuck. Okay, so Ryan and Pete and everyone else in the world ever knows this, but I'm totally in love with you too and I fucking love the way corset piercings look on you and I want to have gay sex with you for the rest of forever.”
He can't look at Brendon after that confession, instead opting to look toward the floor. Soft fingers cup his chin and gently force him to look straight at Brendon, who kisses him gently. It's a gentle, reassuring kiss, and Spencer kind of melts into it. Brendon pulls away after a moment, though, and smiles at Spencer.
“Spencer Smith,” Brendon touches their foreheads together, “I would love to have gay sex with you for the rest of forever. You should shower before we have to get going, though.”
“Okay. Brendon?”
Brendon tilts his head, “Yeah?”
“Ryan's going to kick our asses.”
The only response Spencer gets to that is Brendon's laughter filling their hotel room and bouncing off the walls.
----
Posit-Notes: Brought to you by a conversation where I said "Oh hey, that's like the fic I wrote only, you know, they're in a band."
(ps: if you're late to the party/just want more porn, go check out the pornmas advent calendar/masterlist.)
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D
Fandom/Pairings: Bandom; Spencer/Brendon
Rating: R.
Pre-Notes: For the record CORSAGE PIERCINGS would be very different from CORSET PIERCINGS, which is what today's porn is about. Also no one should let me twitter while sleep deprived.
Disclaimer: This is lies. Lots of lies.
----
ribbons through rings
The first time Brendon gets the corset piercings, Spencer watches, mesmerized by the six rings being put into the smooth expanse of Brendon's skin. Spencer isn't sure why Brendon wants them, isn't sure what the point is when they'll be coming out in a few days, Brendon had said hey, Spencer, come watch me get the piercings and Spencer had said yes, because how did you turn up something like that? You don't, and so Spencer watches, mesmerized, as the six rings go in and then the guy gives Brendon a ridiculously long list of care and cleaning instructions, which Brendon nods along to at he carefully slips his shirt back on. Then, they're out of there and Spencer can't help but touch his hand to Brendon's lower back, even though that's nowhere near the piercings. Brendon shivers, and Spencer thinks that even if the corset piercings make no sense? They're fucking hot, and Spencer is not someone to look a gift horse in the mouth.
When the rings have healed enough to lace something through them, Spencer steals some black ribbon from Ryan, who won't miss it, and laces the rings on Brendon's back into patterns he remembers from his sisters' clothing. Brendon's breath hitches at even the slightest tug, and Spencer fights to keep his breathing even. When the rings are laced up, Spencer ties the tails into a loose bow and watches as Brendon slips his shirt back out, letting out a hiss of breath as the fabric slid over the rings. Spencer stares, can't do anything but stare, at the faintest hint of the existence of the ribbon and the rings. Once he knows what he's looking for, though, it's almost impossible to look away. Brendon calls him a couple of time, trying to get his attention, and Spencer snapped out of his weird trance and smiled at him.
“Yeah?”
“We have sound check like, five minutes ago.”
“Shit.”
Brendon laughs, but it's fond and exacerbated, not demeaning. Then they're walking to sound check and it suddenly dawns on Spencer that he has to sit behind Brendon for the entire show and he'll have a perfect view of the piercings under Brendon's shirt. He is so totally screwed.
----
The second time, Pete drops Brendon back on their bus and Spencer raises an eyebrow, but Pete only gives him a shit-eating grin before disappearing to wherever. Brendon, for his part, just wanders into the bus and flops down, face first, onto his bunk. Spencer hovers outside the bunk, unsure of what's going on until Brendon gives a half-coherent mumble and Spencer blinks.
“Again?”
“Yeah,” Brendon mumbles, “they're sore at the moment, it was probably a bad idea to do them before a show.”
“You,” Spencer sighs, “are a total idiot.”
Instead of leaving Brendon to wallow in his pain, though, Spencer sits in the narrow walkway between the bunks and talks to Brendon until they have to go to sound check. And if Spencer covers Brendon's weird fuck-ups that night, well. It's unlikely anyone noticed, right?
---
The third time, it's a day or two and Spencer doesn't find out until Brendon materializes in front of time with a length of blue ribbon. For a moment, Spencer finds it hard to breathe, and then he carefully takes the ribbon from Brendon. Brendon takes off his shirt carefully, exposing the smooth expanse of his back, and Spencer resists the urge to run his fingers along Brendon's spine. Instead, he laces the rings deftly, letting the tips of his fingers bush against Brendon's spine for a moment when he's tying the tails into a bow. Spencer thinks that Brendon's breath might hitch the tiniest bit when Spencer's fingers brush over his skin, but it's probably all in Spencer's head.
He's going a little bit crazy. Anyone would, having to play shows watching Brendon's back, watching the sweat soak through and make the ribbon more and more visible as the show goes on. It's fucking mesmerizing, and it's hard to remember how to play drums when he's got that in his line of sight almost the entire show, but Spencer manages somehow. He always manages during those long, grueling weeks where he laces up Brendon every night, fingertips always briefly brushing over the bumps of Brendon's spine.
If Brendon notices Spencer watching, though, he never says a word.
----
The fourth time, Spencer snaps. He's lacing up the rings, and his fingertips brush along Brendon's spine like always. But then, then Spencer can't take the beauty of satin ribbon criss-crossing Brendon's back any longer. He takes the single step to close the gap between them and presses a kiss to the place between Brendon's shoulder blades where the ribbon first crosses over itself. Brendon's normally regulated and even breathing hitches and Spencer wraps an arm around Brendon's waist, holding them together but not actually applying pressure to the piercings. Brendon's breathing still hasn't recovered.
“Spencer,” Brendon chokes out, “Spencer we have to . . .”
They have to go to sound check. Spencer realizes this, so he removes his arm from around Brendon's waist and presses one more kiss to the ribbons. Brendon takes a ragged breath before carefully pulling his shirt over his head. When he lifts his head to look at Spencer, he's smiling and there's something about it that Spencer can't quite place. It's like a promise and a challenge rolled into one, and Spencer's breath catches in his throat.
“Come one, Bren,” Spencer manages, “we're going to be late.”
“Right.”
Spencer blinks, and then they're themselves again. It's like nothing happened between them, and he isn't sure if it's a dream or not. In fact, he's damned sure it is a dream until Brendon catches his eye during the show and winks. It's the kind of unsubtle Spencer has come to associate with Brendon, and it makes him smile. He smiles through the rest of the show and he's still smiling when they get off stage and shipped to a hotel to get some actual rest. Normally Brendon rooms with Jon, but Brendon must have pulled some strings or bribed Zack somehow, because Brendon and Spencer are sharing that night. Ryan raises an eyebrow, which Spencer knows means something like this is weird. Spencer gives a shrug that means sorry, wasn't my doing back, and then he's being dragged away to the room by Brendon.
They're barely inside the door when Brendon is pushing Spencer up against it and kissing him like Spencer is the only source of oxygen in the world. It's hot and messy and Spencer's hand ghosts over Brendon's back before settling in his hair and on his hip. Brendon moans, and Spencer is a little overwhelmed. He's pretty sure that he doesn't live in a porno, so there isn't just sudden and random sex in his life. Except for how there obviously is going to be some, judging by the way Brendon is moving his hips. Spencer manages to pull away long enough to try and catch his breath.
“There's a bed,” Spencer says, voice huskier than he remembers, “over there.”
“Spencer,” Brendon laughs, a little breathless, “you have the best ideas.”
This is something they'll need to talk about later, but for the moment they stumble toward the bed, Spencer turning them so that he lands on the bed. Straddling him, Brendon pulls his shirt off and Spencer can't help it. He runs his hand over Brendon's back, finger's tracing the path of slightly damp satin ribbon and running lightly over the piercings. Brendon keens, clutching onto Spencer's shoulders tightly. They're not going to get very far like this, so Spencer lets his hand fall to the bed and pulls off his own shirt instead. Brendon runs his hands over the newly exposed skin, and Spencer reaches for Brendon's jeans, fumbling with them for a moment before he gets them open. Unsurprisingly, Brendon isn't wearing any underwear, and Spencer runs a hand over Brendon's hip and Brendon pulls away.
Spencer is going to complain, but Brendon moves away to shimmy out of his jeans. It's something Spencer has seen at least a dozen times before, because they all live together and Brendon has always been bad about keeping his clothes on, but it seems different this time. More sensual. Maybe it's the way Brendon holds his shoulders, trying not to pull the lacing tight, or maybe it's just that Brendon is looking at Spencer with such absolute want that Spencer has to take a deep breath. Brendon smiles the filthy, dirty, “fuck me,” curl of lips that teenage girls everywhere have had their first orgasm to. Spencer can't breathe, can't hear anything but the beat of his heart skipping beats in an awful cacophony . Brendon leans forward, lips to Spencer's ear.
“I've got more wit, a better kiss, hotter touch, a better fuck,” Brendon whispers against Spencer's ear, and it's so cheesy that Spencer wants to laugh but Brendon's voice is mesmerizing. “than any boy you'll ever meet, sweetie you had me.”
“Please don't,” Spencer chokes out, “talk about Ryan when we're about to have sex.”
Brendon laughs, the rich, deep sound running counterpoint to Spencer's settling heartbeat. Spencer groans as Brendon's hands settle at the waist of his jeans and linger for a moment before quickly unfastening them and pushing them down. Spencer lifts his hips a little and is only mildly surprised when Brendon pulls Spencr's jeans and boxers down to his knees in one smooth motion. Spencer wiggles the rest of the way out of them to avoid looking at Brendon sitting on his knees, the dark ribbon glistening and absolutely gorgeous against his skin, and just looking at Spencer.
Once Spencer's jeans are discarded, Brendon rises and goes back to straddling Spencer. Spencer's hands automatically go to the sections ribbons, skating over them and every once in a while brushing over one of the piercings. It makes Brendon's breath hitch, and Spencer likes the sound too much so he keep running his fingers over the area, unable to get enough of the way Brendon is writhing against him.
Somehow, Brendon manages to slip a hand between them and fist both their cocks at once and Spencer's hand stutter, accidentally tugging on one of the ribbons. Brendon cries out, pressing himself to Spencer and speeding up his hands. Experimentally, Spencer tugs gently on the ribbons and Brendon whimpers against Spencer which, huh. Interesting to know.
The thought doesn't stay in his brain for much longer, though, because they're both worked up and coming pretty soon after that. They stay put, Brendon's forehead resting on Spencer's shoulder, and just breathe until it doesn't feel like they're both going to die from their heart pounding too hard for their chests to contain. Brendon speaks first.
“Spencer,” Brendon says, barely above a whisper, “I . . .”
“We should talk about this,” Spencer cuts in, “but you need to get some sleep first, okay?”
Spencer feels Brendon's nod more than he sees it, and he's almost sorry when Brendon pulls away to disappear into the bathroom. He never wants the heat of Brendon's body to leave him, and something in him aches at the thought that this may never happen again, but then Brendon returns with a wet washcloth and slowly cleans Spencer off. Then he tosses the washcloth back into the bathroom and kisses Spencer. This kiss is slow and sweet, until the frantic kisses from earlier, and Spencer relaxes into it.
“I love you,” Brendon says against Spencer's lips, “goodnight, Spencer.”
“I love you too,” Spencer replies, “sleep well.”
It's almost too familiar and when Brendon pulls away, all Spencer wants to do is pull him back. Instead, he crawls under the covers and sleeps, hoping that this wasn't all a dream.
When he wakes up, Brendon is missing and he almost panics until he hears the water from the shower running. He stays where he is for a moment before getting out of bed and stretching. In the bathroom, the water shuts off and Spencer freezes. He's not really ready to talk to Brendon, even though they need to talk.
“Spencer.”
Without thinking at all, Spencer turns toward Brendon's voice like flowers turn to the sun. Brendon's hair is wet, dripping really, and he's not wearing anything but a smile. It shouldn't make Spencer blush, seeing as they've already had sex, but it does. He can feel the blood rushing to his face, and Brendon snickers.
“Hi,” Spencer manages.
“Hi,” Brendon grins, “so, we need to talk.”
“Yes. Yes, we need to talk about . . .”
Spencer makes a vague hand motion between the two of them and hopes that Brendon understands what he's trying to convey. He figures it's probably a good bet, considering that Brendon has been dealing with Ryan Ross for a pretty long time and Ryan's hand motions are way worse than Spencer's.
“Yeah. So here's the thing, I'm totally in love with you.”
In all of the times Spencer has played out this exact scene in his head, he's never imagined Brendon naked and he's never imagined it coming after sex. It usually leads to sex in his brain. So Spencer stares at Brendon for a couple of second, trying to form words.
“I . . . I,” Spencer makes a frustrated noise, “fuck. Okay, so Ryan and Pete and everyone else in the world ever knows this, but I'm totally in love with you too and I fucking love the way corset piercings look on you and I want to have gay sex with you for the rest of forever.”
He can't look at Brendon after that confession, instead opting to look toward the floor. Soft fingers cup his chin and gently force him to look straight at Brendon, who kisses him gently. It's a gentle, reassuring kiss, and Spencer kind of melts into it. Brendon pulls away after a moment, though, and smiles at Spencer.
“Spencer Smith,” Brendon touches their foreheads together, “I would love to have gay sex with you for the rest of forever. You should shower before we have to get going, though.”
“Okay. Brendon?”
Brendon tilts his head, “Yeah?”
“Ryan's going to kick our asses.”
The only response Spencer gets to that is Brendon's laughter filling their hotel room and bouncing off the walls.
----
Posit-Notes: Brought to you by a conversation where I said "Oh hey, that's like the fic I wrote only, you know, they're in a band."
(ps: if you're late to the party/just want more porn, go check out the pornmas advent calendar/masterlist.)
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D