The Brendon Urie Pain Kink Pornathon!
There are so many things to love about Brendon Urie: his muppet face, his ridiculous body, how much he loves his band.
His giant, raging pain kink.
With that in mind, I bring you
( Read more... )
His giant, raging pain kink.
With that in mind, I bring you
( Read more... )
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"Dude, get out!" he says quickly. After Spencer, without even knocking, pulls the bathroom door open.
"Sorry," Spencer says and leaves, shutting the door behind him.
"It's not a thing," he says to himself. He's not embarrassed. He steps out of the tub, pulls on his boxers and checks the mirror.
He looks fine.
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Spencer's in the kitchen pulling out the ingredients for his special nachos. Brendon knows from that how weird Spence must be feeling because his special nachos take like an hour to make and aren't even all that good. They're just busy work that end in nachos.
"It's not a thing," he says and watches Spencer jump. "I don't get off on it, it's just something I do so don't get all weird okay?"
Spencer stays turned toward his ingredients as he says, "Sure. I mean it's just a hygiene thing right? A little manscaping?"
Brendon knows he should stay quiet and let Spencer smooth it over, make his nachos and forget it but lying would be wrong. It'd make it a thing and he doesn't want that. Before he can stop himself he says, "It's not sexual."
Spencer stops and turns to face him, "B, you were hard. You were pulling out your leg hairs and it got you hard. I'm pretty sure it was sexual."
He needs to leave. He's headed for the door before he remembers he's in just his boxers. He takes a quick left and hops the back of the couch before pulling a few pillows around him. "It's not a thing," he says.
Spencer goes back to fixing his nachos.
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They don't talk about it. Not for weeks, not during recording, not during tour, not at all.
Not until after they make-out.
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They're lying on the couch. They're both worried about going to fast. Which is kind of a joke at this point but they've already lost people they thought they'd have forever. They're willing to be cautious.
They've been making out for what feels like days but has really only been about 20 minutes. Spencer beard isn't scratchy like he'd thought it'd be. He thought he'd have to get used to it.
He doesn't. What he does have to get used to is how Spence makes him take charge. He never thought Spence would be the one saying, "please," and, "more." He thought he'd be gentling kisses not deepening them.
"Bren," Spencer says with a panted breath. "Bren, please."
And he wants to. Fuck but he wants to. He wants to turn Spence over, slip down his back, slide off his jeans. Fucking hell does he want to.
"Not yet," he says instead. "We're going slow. No sex yet."
Spencer's eyes open and catch his. "No sex, right," he says. "What about something else?"
"You want me to jerk you off?" He asks back, starting to picture it. Imagining the slide and how Spence would arch into him.
But Spencer's already shaking his head no. "I wanted to try something," he says, nervously. "You know the thing you do? With the tweezers?"
And now he's the nervous one. "What? No," he says, "That's not-"
"It is," Spencer says, cutting him off. "Or at least," he pauses, "it is for me."
"What?"
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"I keep thinking about it," Spencer says. "About you doing it. About me doing it."
And that's not something Brendon's ever thought about. Someone else doing it to him. He knows people do that, go to the salon or whatever and have the hairdresser shape their eyebrows. But he'd never considered it. After all he doesn't do it where anyone can see. It's not about looking good, it's just something he does to relax.
"We don't have to," Spencer says and looks down to where their hands had found each other. "I just... I know you don't like get off on it or whatever but I." He took a breath, "I do. I know we're being slow and I want us to be but I also want that. Want to see you like that."
He's not really sure what to say. He's always kept it private and he'd known that Spence knew but he'd hadn't thought this would ever come up. He needs more time, so he says, "Maybe. But not tonight, okay? Can we just make out some more? And we'll talk about that later."
So they make out, then they watch some infomercials, then they fall asleep.
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Spencer gives him a few days. Which is good and bad. It gives him time to think but it also gives him time to worry. It's not a thing, it's never been a thing. What if they do this and it becomes a thing and Spencer leaves him and it stays a thing forever?
But know that he's thinking, he can't stop imagining it. Spencer could get the places he can't reach. The annoying little hairs on the backs of his thighs, the outsides of his ankles, the curly ones under his balls.
He can do his happy trail and tidy up the top. Not too much, he doesn't want to be bald or look like a kid. But he's never been able to reach below.
He can't stop thinking about it. And just when he's about to break down and make himself bring it up, talk about it, when he never talks about it, Spencer does it for him.
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He doesn't ask about it. Not out loud, but when they're making dinner, Brendon looks into the living room and his first aid kit is on the coffee table. Just sitting there like it's no big deal.
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