Fic? Not exactly.
So. I sat down at my desk today, and I opened my email drafts to go work on the Epic Breakup Angst-fest of Doom (TM) and my brain was just like, fuck this, and came up with porn instead. I don't even know. But here you go!
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer
Word Count: ~1200
Disclaimer: Lies. Brendon, honey, stop googling yourself.
"Pete Wentz," Brendon keeps repeating, and any other day Spencer would roll his eyes, but he's too busy smiling.
"Pete fuckin' Wentz," he agrees.
"Eek," Brendon squeaks happily. Spencer's eyes are practically twitching with the desire to roll.
"Sure you don't want to stay over?" It's kind of belated, as they're pulling into the parking lot of Brendon's apartment complex, but he hates to think of Brendon spending yet another night alone.
"Early shift. Doesn't matter. Spencer, we're gonna be famous!" Brendon grins.
"Yeah." Spencer meets Brendon's eyes, shining and wide, and feels the familiar tug low in his chest.
"Come up for a bit? I'll burn popcorn and we can air guitar to Queen," Brendon says hopefully.
"How can I resist." Spencer makes it sound as sarcastic as possible, but. Well.
He can't, really. Can never resist with Brendon.
Brendon tumbles more than steps into the apartment, practically shivering with excitement, and Spencer follows. Brendon pulls out a bag of popcorn and sets it in the secondhand microwave. Spencer leans against the chipped counter and tries to stop grinning at Brendon's water-stained walls. He must look like a fucking idiot, but really, when Pete Wentz is coming to see your band play...Even Ryan had been beaming, and that alone, in Spencer's book, is cause for celebration.
"When I'm famous, I'm getting a microwave that actually heats on both sides," Brendon says.
"I don't know, I think your gig at Smoothie Hut might be worth keeping. Screw that rock star shit," Spencer laughs. Brendon glares at him reproachfully.
"No more," he swears, and then his face brightens again. "Spencer, no more smoothies!"
Spencer stares at his feet. "We couldn't have done it without you," he says softly. He sees a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye, and then he finds himself with an armful of Brendon, and somehow Brendon's lips end up brushing his mouth, and he freezes.
"Sorry," Brendon whispers. The microwave beeps and they both ignore it. Brendon steps back, face white. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"
Spencer can't really find words, so he settles for shaking his head.
"No, I'm really-" Brendon says again, and he's twisting his hands together. Spencer thinks, not for the first time, of a puppy. "I think I'm maybe a little bit sorta gay," Brendon says, all in one breath, and then his shoulders stiffen like he's expecting to be hit. Spencer's laugh comes out strangled. "I didn't mean to, I was going to tell you guys, I just thought you might not- I'm sorry, I would've told you, I just kind of figured out like recently and I didn't want to- I was scared- I didn't think-" Brendon babbles.
"Brendon," Spencer says firmly. He closes his eyes for a second. This is so not how he planned this happening. "Me too," he forces out, and then he grabs Brendon by the wrist and pulls, and when Brendon stumbles forward Spencer can feel a tingle rush up his spine, and he whispers again, "Me too," and then kisses Brendon to shut himself up.
And oh, god, it's perfect. Spencer's been thinking about this for far too long now and that's not the way things work, nothing is ever better than how you imagine it, but this is. Brendon makes a surprised sort of noise against his mouth and then just melts, pressing himself against Spencer, fitting their bodies together in a way that makes Spencer's head spin, and his mouth is hot and soft and this is actually happening. Spencer licks into Brendon's mouth and feels Brendon shiver before his arms are around Spencer's neck, clinging, pressing Spencer against the counter.
Spencer pulls away to take a breath, ragged and choked, and Brendon stares at him with wide eyes. "Oh," he says, and then he sucks gently at Spencer's lower lip and Spencer honest-to-god whimpers. Brendon's hips are pressing against his and thank fuck Brendon's just as hard as he is, or this would be really embarrassing. He mouths his way down Brendon's jaw and Brendon tilts his head back and lets him, gasping at every nip and tug of Spencer's teeth, rocking his hips up helplessly until Spencer's just groaning into the curve of his neck.
"Can we-" Spencer pants.
"Yeah," and they stumble their way over to the mattress in the corner without really separating, and it's only when they're standing there, looking from the nest of blankets to each other, that Spencer realizes what they're doing.
"You sure?" he asks breathlessly, and Brendon glares at him fiercely and pulls at his shirt.
"Off."
There's a lot of tugging and getting tangled in sleeves and hopping around, and Spencer's laughing without really realizing it but all he can think of is how much he wants to touch Brendon some more, and somehow they end up in just their boxers and Brendon's lunging toward him with this desperate look in his wide puppydog eyes, and Spencer ends up on his back with Brendon on top of him, all smooth pale skin and heat and pressure.
His brain is maybe shorting out from all the sensations. There's Brendon's mouth, nipping and sucking at his, tongue flicking against his lips, and Spencer knows he's never done this before but wow, fast learner. There's the sounds Brendon's making, a low whine in the back of his throat, desperate little moans that he keeps trying to bite back. But most of all it's Brendon's skin, pressing hot all down Spencer's body, heavy and smooth and he just keeps running his hands up Brendon's back, stroking along his sides, rubbing up against Brendon's hips and gasping at the friction.
Brendon pulls away, eyes dark and mouth swollen red, and all Spencer can do is blink at him for a second. And then Brendon grinds down, twisting his hips experimentally, and Spencer's eyes roll back in his head because that. That. There are no words, and his groan rips from his throat at the same time Brendon whimpers, and Spencer arches up and tries not to come. If he wasn't sure before about the gay thing, he definitely is now, because Brendon's cock rubbing against his is by far the best thing he's ever felt in his entire life. There is no way he's lasting at all. Brendon does it again, rolling his hips roughly and panting into Spencer's neck, and Spencer grasps at his waist and rocks up once, twice, and then his vision dissolves into black and white sparkles, and just. Just. Whoa.
Brendon is dead weight on top of him when he comes to, skin sweaty at the dip of his back under Spencer's fingers. He's breathing raggedly against Spencer's collarbone.
"Holy fuck," is the first thing Spencer manages to say.
"Mmph," Brendon whimpers, and then he rolls away, staring at Spencer with a mix of awe and terror.
"Holy fuck," Spencer repeats. Words are just not working. But he's smiling, and Brendon's grinning right back at him, and so he says it again: "Holy fuck." Brendon giggles before looking down between them, to the mess that is Spencer's boxers, and they're both blushing when their eyes meet again.
"Washcloth," Brendon says awkwardly, but Spencer holds him tight.
"Later?" he asks. Brendon beams and settles in the crook of Spencer's arm, and just when Spencer had thought his heart would slow down, it's flip-flopping again.
"Best day ever," Brendon breathes, and Spencer grins stupidly up at the ceiling.
Other fics are here.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer
Word Count: ~1200
Disclaimer: Lies. Brendon, honey, stop googling yourself.
"Pete Wentz," Brendon keeps repeating, and any other day Spencer would roll his eyes, but he's too busy smiling.
"Pete fuckin' Wentz," he agrees.
"Eek," Brendon squeaks happily. Spencer's eyes are practically twitching with the desire to roll.
"Sure you don't want to stay over?" It's kind of belated, as they're pulling into the parking lot of Brendon's apartment complex, but he hates to think of Brendon spending yet another night alone.
"Early shift. Doesn't matter. Spencer, we're gonna be famous!" Brendon grins.
"Yeah." Spencer meets Brendon's eyes, shining and wide, and feels the familiar tug low in his chest.
"Come up for a bit? I'll burn popcorn and we can air guitar to Queen," Brendon says hopefully.
"How can I resist." Spencer makes it sound as sarcastic as possible, but. Well.
He can't, really. Can never resist with Brendon.
Brendon tumbles more than steps into the apartment, practically shivering with excitement, and Spencer follows. Brendon pulls out a bag of popcorn and sets it in the secondhand microwave. Spencer leans against the chipped counter and tries to stop grinning at Brendon's water-stained walls. He must look like a fucking idiot, but really, when Pete Wentz is coming to see your band play...Even Ryan had been beaming, and that alone, in Spencer's book, is cause for celebration.
"When I'm famous, I'm getting a microwave that actually heats on both sides," Brendon says.
"I don't know, I think your gig at Smoothie Hut might be worth keeping. Screw that rock star shit," Spencer laughs. Brendon glares at him reproachfully.
"No more," he swears, and then his face brightens again. "Spencer, no more smoothies!"
Spencer stares at his feet. "We couldn't have done it without you," he says softly. He sees a blur of motion out of the corner of his eye, and then he finds himself with an armful of Brendon, and somehow Brendon's lips end up brushing his mouth, and he freezes.
"Sorry," Brendon whispers. The microwave beeps and they both ignore it. Brendon steps back, face white. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"
Spencer can't really find words, so he settles for shaking his head.
"No, I'm really-" Brendon says again, and he's twisting his hands together. Spencer thinks, not for the first time, of a puppy. "I think I'm maybe a little bit sorta gay," Brendon says, all in one breath, and then his shoulders stiffen like he's expecting to be hit. Spencer's laugh comes out strangled. "I didn't mean to, I was going to tell you guys, I just thought you might not- I'm sorry, I would've told you, I just kind of figured out like recently and I didn't want to- I was scared- I didn't think-" Brendon babbles.
"Brendon," Spencer says firmly. He closes his eyes for a second. This is so not how he planned this happening. "Me too," he forces out, and then he grabs Brendon by the wrist and pulls, and when Brendon stumbles forward Spencer can feel a tingle rush up his spine, and he whispers again, "Me too," and then kisses Brendon to shut himself up.
And oh, god, it's perfect. Spencer's been thinking about this for far too long now and that's not the way things work, nothing is ever better than how you imagine it, but this is. Brendon makes a surprised sort of noise against his mouth and then just melts, pressing himself against Spencer, fitting their bodies together in a way that makes Spencer's head spin, and his mouth is hot and soft and this is actually happening. Spencer licks into Brendon's mouth and feels Brendon shiver before his arms are around Spencer's neck, clinging, pressing Spencer against the counter.
Spencer pulls away to take a breath, ragged and choked, and Brendon stares at him with wide eyes. "Oh," he says, and then he sucks gently at Spencer's lower lip and Spencer honest-to-god whimpers. Brendon's hips are pressing against his and thank fuck Brendon's just as hard as he is, or this would be really embarrassing. He mouths his way down Brendon's jaw and Brendon tilts his head back and lets him, gasping at every nip and tug of Spencer's teeth, rocking his hips up helplessly until Spencer's just groaning into the curve of his neck.
"Can we-" Spencer pants.
"Yeah," and they stumble their way over to the mattress in the corner without really separating, and it's only when they're standing there, looking from the nest of blankets to each other, that Spencer realizes what they're doing.
"You sure?" he asks breathlessly, and Brendon glares at him fiercely and pulls at his shirt.
"Off."
There's a lot of tugging and getting tangled in sleeves and hopping around, and Spencer's laughing without really realizing it but all he can think of is how much he wants to touch Brendon some more, and somehow they end up in just their boxers and Brendon's lunging toward him with this desperate look in his wide puppydog eyes, and Spencer ends up on his back with Brendon on top of him, all smooth pale skin and heat and pressure.
His brain is maybe shorting out from all the sensations. There's Brendon's mouth, nipping and sucking at his, tongue flicking against his lips, and Spencer knows he's never done this before but wow, fast learner. There's the sounds Brendon's making, a low whine in the back of his throat, desperate little moans that he keeps trying to bite back. But most of all it's Brendon's skin, pressing hot all down Spencer's body, heavy and smooth and he just keeps running his hands up Brendon's back, stroking along his sides, rubbing up against Brendon's hips and gasping at the friction.
Brendon pulls away, eyes dark and mouth swollen red, and all Spencer can do is blink at him for a second. And then Brendon grinds down, twisting his hips experimentally, and Spencer's eyes roll back in his head because that. That. There are no words, and his groan rips from his throat at the same time Brendon whimpers, and Spencer arches up and tries not to come. If he wasn't sure before about the gay thing, he definitely is now, because Brendon's cock rubbing against his is by far the best thing he's ever felt in his entire life. There is no way he's lasting at all. Brendon does it again, rolling his hips roughly and panting into Spencer's neck, and Spencer grasps at his waist and rocks up once, twice, and then his vision dissolves into black and white sparkles, and just. Just. Whoa.
Brendon is dead weight on top of him when he comes to, skin sweaty at the dip of his back under Spencer's fingers. He's breathing raggedly against Spencer's collarbone.
"Holy fuck," is the first thing Spencer manages to say.
"Mmph," Brendon whimpers, and then he rolls away, staring at Spencer with a mix of awe and terror.
"Holy fuck," Spencer repeats. Words are just not working. But he's smiling, and Brendon's grinning right back at him, and so he says it again: "Holy fuck." Brendon giggles before looking down between them, to the mess that is Spencer's boxers, and they're both blushing when their eyes meet again.
"Washcloth," Brendon says awkwardly, but Spencer holds him tight.
"Later?" he asks. Brendon beams and settles in the crook of Spencer's arm, and just when Spencer had thought his heart would slow down, it's flip-flopping again.
"Best day ever," Brendon breathes, and Spencer grins stupidly up at the ceiling.
Other fics are here.