Bandslash: Brendon/Spencer
Title: Slip 'n Slide
Fandom: Bandslash
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,110
Summary: It’s hot. So fucking hot that Brendon can barely stand it.
Notes: Thanks to the wonderful chopsticknoodle for the beta and arabella_hope for the title help and basically putting up with me. hee!
It’s hot. So fucking hot that Brendon can barely stand it. He’s already stripped down to his boxers and sprawled out on the floor, but it’s not doing a damn thing. The damp material is clinging to his thighs, and he’s so fucking sweaty he just keeps imagining himself shriveling up like a raison. A Braison, maybe.
The heat might be affecting his mind as well.
There’s a drop of sweat sliding down his face, but his arms are too heavy to lift, so he lets it go. It trickles down his neck and pools at the base of his throat. The fan across the room is noisy but basically useless. Brendon sighs loudly and contemplates going to stick his head in the freezer again. He ends up staying on the floor, because moving would involve, well, moving.
“All your frustration is just making me hotter,” Spencer says from his spot on the couch. Brendon tilts his head and can make out half of his form, an arm and a leg hanging over the edge. The hand is flicking him off though, so Brendon scowls a bit. When did Spencer get so self-righteous?
Then he remembers that Spencer is Spencer and moves on.
“Go buy another fan,” Brendon tells him, only half-heartedly mean about it. He loves Spencer, he really does, but apparently the cabin’s air-conditioning broke at the worst time ever, because he’s pretty sure his skin is melting. He’s about two minutes from pulling a Wicked Witch of the West and evaporating on the floor. Brendon wonders if he’d rain down in a cooling shower in the middle of the living room.
Ok, the heat is definitely affecting his mind.
“I have an idea,” Spencer says suddenly. And Brendon doesn’t even know how Spencer has the energy to jump off the couch like that, but he’s standing in front of Brendon and reaching out. Their hands are clammy when they touch, but Spencer tugs at Brendon’s arms until he’s on his feet, not letting go as he leads him out into the backyard.
Brendon sees the sprinkler watering the grass and realizes that Spencer Smith is the biggest genius ever. He takes off, Spencer mere footsteps behind him, and races towards the heavenly oasis. The first splash of cold water is a shock and his body freezes up right after he jumps through it.
Spencer makes some sort of strangled noise as he slams into Brendon’s back, and they both collapse on the ground in a pile of laughter and wet limbs. “Idiot,” Spencer says, but his eyes are soft and Brendon can tell he means it in the nicest way possible.
“Not so hot anymore,” Brendon says with a shrug.
“Too bad,” Spencer mumbles. He rolls a little so that he’s straddling Brendon’s hips and smirks down at him. “I hear orgasms are good for cooling off.”
“You’re just making that up,” Brendon says, his nose scrunching up as he contemplates it. There’s absolutely no way that’s a scientifically proven fact. Then again...orgasms.
“Well, they can’t be bad, right?” Spencer asks, laughing as he dips his head and nips at the underside of Brendon’s chin. His lips are slippery against Brendon’s skin, because the sprinkler is right next to them and every few seconds he gets another coating of water. But he is cooler than before, and now he has a lapful of Spencer Smith, so life is exponentially better.
Brendon turns his head, catching Spencer’s mouth in a kiss. He tastes like strawberry lemonade, and Brendon can’t get enough, thrusts his tongue greedily into Spencer’s mouth as he arches his back, pressing himself against Spencer. Spencer moans, and Brendon swallows the sound before letting his hands roam down his back. He rakes his nails over the freckled skin, congratulating himself when Spencer shivers and melts into the touch.
Some things will never, ever get old.
Things like the feeling of Spencer’s skin beneath his fingertips or the hard press of Spencer’s cock against Brendon’s hips. Brendon breaks the kiss with a whimper and looks up at Spencer, pleading with his eyes. Spencer licks his lips slowly, wetting them before working a hand between their bodies. He shoves at Brendon’s boxers and Brendon lifts his hips, raising them just far enough that Spencer can slide his boxers down around his knees. Brendon tugs at Spencer’s boxers, lowering them in a rush before grabbing at Spencer’s hips and pulling him down.
“Fuck,” Spencer hisses as their cocks brush together. Brendon echoes him silently before pushing up on his elbows and nibbling on Spencer’s collarbone. This sets Spencer off, makes him look down at Brendon with wide eyes before rolling his hips. The water cascades off their bodies, slicking them up as they rock together.
It’s almost too much, the sweet glide of their cocks together combined with Spencer’s chest pressed against his and Spencer’s mouth on his neck. Brendon clutches onto Spencer’s hips and thrusts upwards, his heart pounding in his chest, trying to escape as they move in rhythm with each other.
And then Spencer pulls back and smiles down at Brendon. He chews on his lower lip as his eyes widen and his body stills. Spencer cries out as he comes in thick streams across Brendon’s thighs. Brendon loses control seconds after Spencer, digging his nails into Spencer’s hipbones as he explodes between their bodies.
They slump back against the grass, covered in water and come. Brendon shifts slightly, letting Spencer rest in the space between his thighs. Spencer’s panting in Brendon’s ear, his breath harsh and hot against Brendon’s neck. But the sprinkler is cool and the sun’s heat barely has any effect.
After a few minutes Spencer sighs and presses a kiss against the nape of Brendon’s neck. He kneels up and looks down at Brendon. “Did it work?” he asks, grinning.
“Not sure. Might have to try it again,” Brendon tells him with a laugh. And then Spencer’s laughing, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he shakes with it.
“That can be arranged,” Spencer says before snorting and pulling up his boxers.
Brendon just grins up at him, ignoring the way the sun’s beating down on them or the fact that Ryan and Jon will be back from the store with an arsenal of window fans any minute. He stands up and fixes his boxers before holding out a hand. “Run through the sprinkler with me?”
And Spencer doesn’t tell him to grow up or mention how weird he is. He just grabs Brendon’s hand and nods before leaping through the sprinkler again. Spencer Smith is pretty much the best boyfriend ever.
Fandom: Bandslash
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,110
Summary: It’s hot. So fucking hot that Brendon can barely stand it.
Notes: Thanks to the wonderful chopsticknoodle for the beta and arabella_hope for the title help and basically putting up with me. hee!
It’s hot. So fucking hot that Brendon can barely stand it. He’s already stripped down to his boxers and sprawled out on the floor, but it’s not doing a damn thing. The damp material is clinging to his thighs, and he’s so fucking sweaty he just keeps imagining himself shriveling up like a raison. A Braison, maybe.
The heat might be affecting his mind as well.
There’s a drop of sweat sliding down his face, but his arms are too heavy to lift, so he lets it go. It trickles down his neck and pools at the base of his throat. The fan across the room is noisy but basically useless. Brendon sighs loudly and contemplates going to stick his head in the freezer again. He ends up staying on the floor, because moving would involve, well, moving.
“All your frustration is just making me hotter,” Spencer says from his spot on the couch. Brendon tilts his head and can make out half of his form, an arm and a leg hanging over the edge. The hand is flicking him off though, so Brendon scowls a bit. When did Spencer get so self-righteous?
Then he remembers that Spencer is Spencer and moves on.
“Go buy another fan,” Brendon tells him, only half-heartedly mean about it. He loves Spencer, he really does, but apparently the cabin’s air-conditioning broke at the worst time ever, because he’s pretty sure his skin is melting. He’s about two minutes from pulling a Wicked Witch of the West and evaporating on the floor. Brendon wonders if he’d rain down in a cooling shower in the middle of the living room.
Ok, the heat is definitely affecting his mind.
“I have an idea,” Spencer says suddenly. And Brendon doesn’t even know how Spencer has the energy to jump off the couch like that, but he’s standing in front of Brendon and reaching out. Their hands are clammy when they touch, but Spencer tugs at Brendon’s arms until he’s on his feet, not letting go as he leads him out into the backyard.
Brendon sees the sprinkler watering the grass and realizes that Spencer Smith is the biggest genius ever. He takes off, Spencer mere footsteps behind him, and races towards the heavenly oasis. The first splash of cold water is a shock and his body freezes up right after he jumps through it.
Spencer makes some sort of strangled noise as he slams into Brendon’s back, and they both collapse on the ground in a pile of laughter and wet limbs. “Idiot,” Spencer says, but his eyes are soft and Brendon can tell he means it in the nicest way possible.
“Not so hot anymore,” Brendon says with a shrug.
“Too bad,” Spencer mumbles. He rolls a little so that he’s straddling Brendon’s hips and smirks down at him. “I hear orgasms are good for cooling off.”
“You’re just making that up,” Brendon says, his nose scrunching up as he contemplates it. There’s absolutely no way that’s a scientifically proven fact. Then again...orgasms.
“Well, they can’t be bad, right?” Spencer asks, laughing as he dips his head and nips at the underside of Brendon’s chin. His lips are slippery against Brendon’s skin, because the sprinkler is right next to them and every few seconds he gets another coating of water. But he is cooler than before, and now he has a lapful of Spencer Smith, so life is exponentially better.
Brendon turns his head, catching Spencer’s mouth in a kiss. He tastes like strawberry lemonade, and Brendon can’t get enough, thrusts his tongue greedily into Spencer’s mouth as he arches his back, pressing himself against Spencer. Spencer moans, and Brendon swallows the sound before letting his hands roam down his back. He rakes his nails over the freckled skin, congratulating himself when Spencer shivers and melts into the touch.
Some things will never, ever get old.
Things like the feeling of Spencer’s skin beneath his fingertips or the hard press of Spencer’s cock against Brendon’s hips. Brendon breaks the kiss with a whimper and looks up at Spencer, pleading with his eyes. Spencer licks his lips slowly, wetting them before working a hand between their bodies. He shoves at Brendon’s boxers and Brendon lifts his hips, raising them just far enough that Spencer can slide his boxers down around his knees. Brendon tugs at Spencer’s boxers, lowering them in a rush before grabbing at Spencer’s hips and pulling him down.
“Fuck,” Spencer hisses as their cocks brush together. Brendon echoes him silently before pushing up on his elbows and nibbling on Spencer’s collarbone. This sets Spencer off, makes him look down at Brendon with wide eyes before rolling his hips. The water cascades off their bodies, slicking them up as they rock together.
It’s almost too much, the sweet glide of their cocks together combined with Spencer’s chest pressed against his and Spencer’s mouth on his neck. Brendon clutches onto Spencer’s hips and thrusts upwards, his heart pounding in his chest, trying to escape as they move in rhythm with each other.
And then Spencer pulls back and smiles down at Brendon. He chews on his lower lip as his eyes widen and his body stills. Spencer cries out as he comes in thick streams across Brendon’s thighs. Brendon loses control seconds after Spencer, digging his nails into Spencer’s hipbones as he explodes between their bodies.
They slump back against the grass, covered in water and come. Brendon shifts slightly, letting Spencer rest in the space between his thighs. Spencer’s panting in Brendon’s ear, his breath harsh and hot against Brendon’s neck. But the sprinkler is cool and the sun’s heat barely has any effect.
After a few minutes Spencer sighs and presses a kiss against the nape of Brendon’s neck. He kneels up and looks down at Brendon. “Did it work?” he asks, grinning.
“Not sure. Might have to try it again,” Brendon tells him with a laugh. And then Spencer’s laughing, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he shakes with it.
“That can be arranged,” Spencer says before snorting and pulling up his boxers.
Brendon just grins up at him, ignoring the way the sun’s beating down on them or the fact that Ryan and Jon will be back from the store with an arsenal of window fans any minute. He stands up and fixes his boxers before holding out a hand. “Run through the sprinkler with me?”
And Spencer doesn’t tell him to grow up or mention how weird he is. He just grabs Brendon’s hand and nods before leaping through the sprinkler again. Spencer Smith is pretty much the best boyfriend ever.