Bandslash: Andy/Spencer
Title: Save a Drum
Fandom: Bandslash
Pairing: Andy Hurley/Spencer Smith
Rating: NC-17 2,004
Summary: Andy likes Spencer. Spencer likes Andy. And Pete Wentz is a genius.
Notes: I blame this one on chopsticknoodle. I don't remember why, but I do. She's also wonderful for beta'ing this for me.
Spencer Smith holds his drumsticks like other boys hold lovers. Andy has this weird fascination with Spencer’s fingers and the way they grip his sticks while he drums. He’s zoned out more than once backstage, watching as Panic! plays. The light up drum kit doesn’t help, nor does the way Spencer sticks his tongue out when he’s lost in a song.
Until he met Spencer, Andy was pretty sure he was straight. Relatively sure, at least.
And then out of nowhere there’s this kid who plays drums like some kind of fallen angel and has the sexiest hands Andy’s ever seen. And Andy’s a pretty slick guy. Hell, he’s the designated playboy of the Fall Out Boy tour. But he trips over his words and covers up awkward silence with dreamy smiles whenever the other drummer is around.
It’s kind of pathetic.
Patrick even mentions something, asks what happened to the long line of fans tripping over themselves to get to Andy after the shows. The girls - and boys - are still there, but Andy isn’t anymore. He’s wrapped up in this slightly pudgy yet amazingly sexy boy who doesn’t seem to know his name.
And yeah, that’s a bit melodramatic, but Andy’s kind of sick of hearing Spencer ramble about Patrick or Pete or fucking Brendon instead of paying attention to him. Because he’s a reasonably attractive and interesting guy, and usually that gets him into anyone’s pants.
Just apparently not Spencer Smith’s tiny girl jeans.
--
When Andy Hurley plays his drums, he’s this force of energy and music and everything awesome in the entire world. Once Pete told Spencer that Andy looks like Animal from The Muppets when he plays, and that’s all Spencer can think about when he’s off to the side, hanging out backstage and watching Fall Out Boy play.
Ok, he also spends a lot of time thinking about how Andy’s hands would feel on his hips or what Andy’s tattoos taste like. One day he spent the entire set picturing what Andy would look like sprawled out in his bunk, his hair disheveled and tousled beneath Spencer’s hands. He might have even let out a moan at the image, but Jon’s been kind enough not to bring it up.
It’s becoming a bit of an issue.
Plus, Brendon keeps running around humming that stupid song about kissing in trees, and it’s starting to drive Spencer insane. When he told Brendon he was going to punch him in the face, Brendon just laughed - this really annoyingly high-pitched giggle - and hummed louder. It’s a wonder Ryan can put up with him.
And the thing is, Andy is weird around Spencer; keeps giving him the cold shoulder or spacing out whenever Spencer tries to talk to him. Spencer’s even been hanging out with Andy’s friends more, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk about them. Or, you know, look Spencer in the eye.
Spencer might never get to press quick kisses against the tattoos on Andy’s arms.
--
They’re chilling out backstage, just Andy and Spencer and Pete, and it’s close to being the most awkward moment Spencer’s ever had. He keeps looking down at his white loafers, wondering what they’d look like tossed on the floor next to Andy’s Chucks. Pete is going on and on about some new age gospel that Spencer can’t even wrap his head around, and Andy is far too close to him. It’s distracting.
Then Pete stops, his words trailing off as he studies them. He’s eerily hushed as he looks back and forth between the two of them, and Spencer shivers under the weight of Pete’s gaze.
“You’ve both been quiet lately,” Pete says, looking first at Andy and then settling on Spencer. He tilts his head to the side and crosses his hands over his chest, frowning at them. “You’ve also been far too chaste,” he adds, snorting when Spencer blushes and Andy fidgets in his chair.
“The fans are getting to me,” Andy admits, not bothering to look at Pete. He waves a hand around before adding, “They squeal.”
“Dude,” Pete says with a snort, “You love banging groupies like you love banging drums. And you,” he turns to Spencer, “Shouldn’t you be getting some on your bus or whatever? I know Ryan Ross puts out.”
“He’s kind of taken,” Spencer mumbles. “And I don’t want to scare Jon and I don’t want buddy sex anymore. You know?” It’s a lie, because he’s pretty sure he’d take any kind of sex he could get from Andy, but Pete doesn’t need to know that.
“Man, you two should just fuck each other,” Pete finally tells them, laughing loudly as he claps his hands together.
There’s a moment of pure silence, and then Spencer feels his cheeks burning up and has to look down at the ground again. His shoes are pretty scuffed up. Andy’s feet are tapping crazy patterns on the floor, like he has all this pent up energy that’s crawling under his skin, waiting to get out.
“Oh, you want to,” Pete murmurs. Spencer doesn’t even stay to see Andy’s reaction, because he’s not one for being called out. He’s out of his chair and racing - in a completely non-cowardly way - out of the venue and towards his bus. Brendon and Ryan will just have to be quiet.
--
Spencer avoids Andy for two days. It’s not that hard to do, and it’s not like he really has any reason to be following him around anyway. Plus, he survived for years without hearing Andy’s laugh or seeing the little bit of brightly colored skin that gets exposed whenever he stretches his arms above his head. It’s not like he can’t go a few days without staring longingly at it.
Only it sucks. It really, really sucks.
Because the more he tries not to think about Andy, the more his fingers ache to touch him. So he holes up in his bunk with his iPod and his embarrassment and does his best to get lost in the music and the dark.
Then there are footsteps in the hallway, and they’re too heavy to be Ryan’s, too loud to be Jon’s, and not spastic enough to be Brendon’s. He holds his breath and pauses the music on his iPod. Spencer inhales sharply when his curtain is pulled back by fingers he’s used to seeing wrapped around a pair of drum sticks. Andy’s right there, inches from his face, and Spencer struggles to sit up before he realizes he doesn’t have the room to.
“Hey,” Andy says as he opens the curtain further and sits on the edge of Spencer mattress. Spencer’s heart is trying to escape his chest, and it’s all he can do to lie still and smile up at Andy. “So…I know this is awkward and you’ve been avoiding me since that thing Pete said the other day, but I’ve been talking with him a lot lately. And that kid knows what he’s talking about. Or at least I hope he does, because I’m going to kiss you now and hopefully you’re not going to kick me in the nuts.”
Spencer leans up on his elbows just as Andy is bending down and they meet somewhere in the middle, lips and mouths and teeth clashing together. Spencer moans into the kiss, arching his body up as he slides his tongue past Andy’s lips. He tastes like sunshine and strawberries and everything Spencer’s been missing in his life thus far.
Seriously. He’ll kick you if you try to argue.
Andy moves all the way into the bunk, letting the curtain fall shut behind him, and straddles Spencer’s thighs. His hair is soft against Spencer’s fingers, and his beard is pleasantly rough against Spencer’s cheeks. Spencer lets his eyes close, his head spinning as he licks into Andy’s mouth.
Then Andy’s tugging at Spencer’s shirt, pulling it up and over his head, and Spencer lets him, falling back against the mattress as soon as he’s shirtless. He’s also breathless, but that’s a whole different matter.
Spencer grabs Andy by the ears and drags him down, pausing to lick his piercing before bringing their mouths together again. He slides his hands beneath Andy’s t-shirt and slides it upwards, baring as much of that beautiful skin as he can. Andy’s a smart boy and breaks the kiss long enough to shrug out of his shirt.
Running his hands down Andy’s sides, Spencer stares up at him - slightly in awe - because as hot as the tattoos looked from across a stage, they’re that much more scorching in person. It barely registers that he’s allowed to openly study them, allowed to touch them, allowed to do things like lean up and flicker his tongue across Andy’s nipple before working his way across the colors covering his chest.
Andy whimpers and arches into the touch, one hand coming down to cup the back of Spencer’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. He tugs lightly, the pleasure-pain going straight to Spencer’s groin. He’s been hard since Andy slipped into his bunk, and lets out a strained groan when Andy reaches down to undo his belt.
Spencer knows there’s not enough room in the buck to fuck. His mind is half gone, but he can still grasp how illogical it is. Andy’s lowering his zipper and shoving his jeans past his hips, though, so Spencer just goes with it. He reaches up and palms the bulge in the front of Andy’s jeans, massaging it a couple times before returning the favor and baring them both to their knees.
When Andy settles on top of Spencer, he cries out, bucking his hips and trying to get every inch of Andy’s skin plastered against his own. Andy sucks on the hollow of his neck and whispers, “So gorgeous,” against his collarbone.
It’s all Spencer can do to hold on, to clutch at Andy’s hips as their bodies rock together. Andy takes control, grinding down against Spencer, their cocks brushing together as he pants in Spencer’s ear. Spencer lets his hands wander, tracing the lines of ink across Andy’s back that are so familiar that he could draw them with his eyes closed.
It’s a surprise when Spencer comes, his eyes going wide as his hips fly up and he loses it, Andy’s name on the tip of his tongue. Andy bites down on Spencer’s neck and thrusts down hard, following him seconds later, his teeth digging into Spencer’s flesh. Spencer gasps as he feels Andy come between them, adding to the mess between their abdomens.
They lie there for a few moments, just breathing heavily in the darkness of Spencer’s bunk and holding each other. Andy’s a comfortable weight on top of Spencer, and he shifts so he can feel more of him, have a little more of his skin against his.
It’s kind of perfect.
“We should send Pete flowers,” Andy finally says, and Spencer’s laughter fills the bunk. Andy joins him, his laugh muffled by Spencer’s hair. Then he pushes up on his elbows and presses a quick kiss to the tip of Spencer’s nose before running a finger down the slant of it. Spencer shivers at the gesture, not quite sure when it went from cute to insanely hot.
“We could just send him Patrick,” Spencer suggests, grinning wider when Andy laughs again. Because as good as Pete Wentz is at figuring out other people’s love lives, he’s sadly lacking in his own.
And then they’re kissing again, mouths slanting lazily together, and Spencer can’t think of anything past the curtain of his bunk. All he can focus on is the warmth of Andy’s body and the sharp press of his hipbones against his own.
Spencer knows the guys will come looking for them soon, or there’ll be a show to put on, but right now? He could stay here forever. And he’s pretty sure Andy’s on board with that, which is just the coolest thing ever.
Fandom: Bandslash
Pairing: Andy Hurley/Spencer Smith
Rating: NC-17 2,004
Summary: Andy likes Spencer. Spencer likes Andy. And Pete Wentz is a genius.
Notes: I blame this one on chopsticknoodle. I don't remember why, but I do. She's also wonderful for beta'ing this for me.
Spencer Smith holds his drumsticks like other boys hold lovers. Andy has this weird fascination with Spencer’s fingers and the way they grip his sticks while he drums. He’s zoned out more than once backstage, watching as Panic! plays. The light up drum kit doesn’t help, nor does the way Spencer sticks his tongue out when he’s lost in a song.
Until he met Spencer, Andy was pretty sure he was straight. Relatively sure, at least.
And then out of nowhere there’s this kid who plays drums like some kind of fallen angel and has the sexiest hands Andy’s ever seen. And Andy’s a pretty slick guy. Hell, he’s the designated playboy of the Fall Out Boy tour. But he trips over his words and covers up awkward silence with dreamy smiles whenever the other drummer is around.
It’s kind of pathetic.
Patrick even mentions something, asks what happened to the long line of fans tripping over themselves to get to Andy after the shows. The girls - and boys - are still there, but Andy isn’t anymore. He’s wrapped up in this slightly pudgy yet amazingly sexy boy who doesn’t seem to know his name.
And yeah, that’s a bit melodramatic, but Andy’s kind of sick of hearing Spencer ramble about Patrick or Pete or fucking Brendon instead of paying attention to him. Because he’s a reasonably attractive and interesting guy, and usually that gets him into anyone’s pants.
Just apparently not Spencer Smith’s tiny girl jeans.
--
When Andy Hurley plays his drums, he’s this force of energy and music and everything awesome in the entire world. Once Pete told Spencer that Andy looks like Animal from The Muppets when he plays, and that’s all Spencer can think about when he’s off to the side, hanging out backstage and watching Fall Out Boy play.
Ok, he also spends a lot of time thinking about how Andy’s hands would feel on his hips or what Andy’s tattoos taste like. One day he spent the entire set picturing what Andy would look like sprawled out in his bunk, his hair disheveled and tousled beneath Spencer’s hands. He might have even let out a moan at the image, but Jon’s been kind enough not to bring it up.
It’s becoming a bit of an issue.
Plus, Brendon keeps running around humming that stupid song about kissing in trees, and it’s starting to drive Spencer insane. When he told Brendon he was going to punch him in the face, Brendon just laughed - this really annoyingly high-pitched giggle - and hummed louder. It’s a wonder Ryan can put up with him.
And the thing is, Andy is weird around Spencer; keeps giving him the cold shoulder or spacing out whenever Spencer tries to talk to him. Spencer’s even been hanging out with Andy’s friends more, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk about them. Or, you know, look Spencer in the eye.
Spencer might never get to press quick kisses against the tattoos on Andy’s arms.
--
They’re chilling out backstage, just Andy and Spencer and Pete, and it’s close to being the most awkward moment Spencer’s ever had. He keeps looking down at his white loafers, wondering what they’d look like tossed on the floor next to Andy’s Chucks. Pete is going on and on about some new age gospel that Spencer can’t even wrap his head around, and Andy is far too close to him. It’s distracting.
Then Pete stops, his words trailing off as he studies them. He’s eerily hushed as he looks back and forth between the two of them, and Spencer shivers under the weight of Pete’s gaze.
“You’ve both been quiet lately,” Pete says, looking first at Andy and then settling on Spencer. He tilts his head to the side and crosses his hands over his chest, frowning at them. “You’ve also been far too chaste,” he adds, snorting when Spencer blushes and Andy fidgets in his chair.
“The fans are getting to me,” Andy admits, not bothering to look at Pete. He waves a hand around before adding, “They squeal.”
“Dude,” Pete says with a snort, “You love banging groupies like you love banging drums. And you,” he turns to Spencer, “Shouldn’t you be getting some on your bus or whatever? I know Ryan Ross puts out.”
“He’s kind of taken,” Spencer mumbles. “And I don’t want to scare Jon and I don’t want buddy sex anymore. You know?” It’s a lie, because he’s pretty sure he’d take any kind of sex he could get from Andy, but Pete doesn’t need to know that.
“Man, you two should just fuck each other,” Pete finally tells them, laughing loudly as he claps his hands together.
There’s a moment of pure silence, and then Spencer feels his cheeks burning up and has to look down at the ground again. His shoes are pretty scuffed up. Andy’s feet are tapping crazy patterns on the floor, like he has all this pent up energy that’s crawling under his skin, waiting to get out.
“Oh, you want to,” Pete murmurs. Spencer doesn’t even stay to see Andy’s reaction, because he’s not one for being called out. He’s out of his chair and racing - in a completely non-cowardly way - out of the venue and towards his bus. Brendon and Ryan will just have to be quiet.
--
Spencer avoids Andy for two days. It’s not that hard to do, and it’s not like he really has any reason to be following him around anyway. Plus, he survived for years without hearing Andy’s laugh or seeing the little bit of brightly colored skin that gets exposed whenever he stretches his arms above his head. It’s not like he can’t go a few days without staring longingly at it.
Only it sucks. It really, really sucks.
Because the more he tries not to think about Andy, the more his fingers ache to touch him. So he holes up in his bunk with his iPod and his embarrassment and does his best to get lost in the music and the dark.
Then there are footsteps in the hallway, and they’re too heavy to be Ryan’s, too loud to be Jon’s, and not spastic enough to be Brendon’s. He holds his breath and pauses the music on his iPod. Spencer inhales sharply when his curtain is pulled back by fingers he’s used to seeing wrapped around a pair of drum sticks. Andy’s right there, inches from his face, and Spencer struggles to sit up before he realizes he doesn’t have the room to.
“Hey,” Andy says as he opens the curtain further and sits on the edge of Spencer mattress. Spencer’s heart is trying to escape his chest, and it’s all he can do to lie still and smile up at Andy. “So…I know this is awkward and you’ve been avoiding me since that thing Pete said the other day, but I’ve been talking with him a lot lately. And that kid knows what he’s talking about. Or at least I hope he does, because I’m going to kiss you now and hopefully you’re not going to kick me in the nuts.”
Spencer leans up on his elbows just as Andy is bending down and they meet somewhere in the middle, lips and mouths and teeth clashing together. Spencer moans into the kiss, arching his body up as he slides his tongue past Andy’s lips. He tastes like sunshine and strawberries and everything Spencer’s been missing in his life thus far.
Seriously. He’ll kick you if you try to argue.
Andy moves all the way into the bunk, letting the curtain fall shut behind him, and straddles Spencer’s thighs. His hair is soft against Spencer’s fingers, and his beard is pleasantly rough against Spencer’s cheeks. Spencer lets his eyes close, his head spinning as he licks into Andy’s mouth.
Then Andy’s tugging at Spencer’s shirt, pulling it up and over his head, and Spencer lets him, falling back against the mattress as soon as he’s shirtless. He’s also breathless, but that’s a whole different matter.
Spencer grabs Andy by the ears and drags him down, pausing to lick his piercing before bringing their mouths together again. He slides his hands beneath Andy’s t-shirt and slides it upwards, baring as much of that beautiful skin as he can. Andy’s a smart boy and breaks the kiss long enough to shrug out of his shirt.
Running his hands down Andy’s sides, Spencer stares up at him - slightly in awe - because as hot as the tattoos looked from across a stage, they’re that much more scorching in person. It barely registers that he’s allowed to openly study them, allowed to touch them, allowed to do things like lean up and flicker his tongue across Andy’s nipple before working his way across the colors covering his chest.
Andy whimpers and arches into the touch, one hand coming down to cup the back of Spencer’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. He tugs lightly, the pleasure-pain going straight to Spencer’s groin. He’s been hard since Andy slipped into his bunk, and lets out a strained groan when Andy reaches down to undo his belt.
Spencer knows there’s not enough room in the buck to fuck. His mind is half gone, but he can still grasp how illogical it is. Andy’s lowering his zipper and shoving his jeans past his hips, though, so Spencer just goes with it. He reaches up and palms the bulge in the front of Andy’s jeans, massaging it a couple times before returning the favor and baring them both to their knees.
When Andy settles on top of Spencer, he cries out, bucking his hips and trying to get every inch of Andy’s skin plastered against his own. Andy sucks on the hollow of his neck and whispers, “So gorgeous,” against his collarbone.
It’s all Spencer can do to hold on, to clutch at Andy’s hips as their bodies rock together. Andy takes control, grinding down against Spencer, their cocks brushing together as he pants in Spencer’s ear. Spencer lets his hands wander, tracing the lines of ink across Andy’s back that are so familiar that he could draw them with his eyes closed.
It’s a surprise when Spencer comes, his eyes going wide as his hips fly up and he loses it, Andy’s name on the tip of his tongue. Andy bites down on Spencer’s neck and thrusts down hard, following him seconds later, his teeth digging into Spencer’s flesh. Spencer gasps as he feels Andy come between them, adding to the mess between their abdomens.
They lie there for a few moments, just breathing heavily in the darkness of Spencer’s bunk and holding each other. Andy’s a comfortable weight on top of Spencer, and he shifts so he can feel more of him, have a little more of his skin against his.
It’s kind of perfect.
“We should send Pete flowers,” Andy finally says, and Spencer’s laughter fills the bunk. Andy joins him, his laugh muffled by Spencer’s hair. Then he pushes up on his elbows and presses a quick kiss to the tip of Spencer’s nose before running a finger down the slant of it. Spencer shivers at the gesture, not quite sure when it went from cute to insanely hot.
“We could just send him Patrick,” Spencer suggests, grinning wider when Andy laughs again. Because as good as Pete Wentz is at figuring out other people’s love lives, he’s sadly lacking in his own.
And then they’re kissing again, mouths slanting lazily together, and Spencer can’t think of anything past the curtain of his bunk. All he can focus on is the warmth of Andy’s body and the sharp press of his hipbones against his own.
Spencer knows the guys will come looking for them soon, or there’ll be a show to put on, but right now? He could stay here forever. And he’s pretty sure Andy’s on board with that, which is just the coolest thing ever.