If It Wasn't For Hate (You'd Be Dead Right Now), [S/A]
Title: If It Wasn't For Hate (You'd Be Dead Right Now)
Author: Santipathy
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jon/Spencer
POV: Third
Word Count: 4508
Summary: When Spencer came into the bus with an attitude every day for one week, Jon finally has had enough.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Didn't happen (I don't think), but if Jon and Spencer really did have a bitch-off ... I want the video. Title taken from Lostprophets' If It Wasn't For Hate (We'd Be Dead Right Now).
Beta: Heads_only_meds
Author Notes: Okay, Summaries for shitty Standalones are not the best thing about me... So throw me a bone, ‘kay? Props to heads_only_meds for sparking the conversation with the idea that Jon and Spencer really would have a bitch-off if Spencer was being particularly annoying that day. So... Enjoy?
Bitch Fit One - Cymbals
Spencer stumbled into the bus with a loud huff, before slamming the door closed angrily. His footsteps echoed around the tour bus, and he couldn’t care less if someone was asleep.
Okay, he might be a little quieter if Ryan was asleep.
He threw himself onto the leather sofa, face first. Spencer’s plan was to mope around, huff a lot, and maybe even wallow in his own pity in the form of many Hershey Bars. He sighed and buried his fingers into the carpet, he barely even registered the fact that Jon was staring blankly at him from the opposite sofa. “Maybe I could just hang myself...”
“Nuh uh.” Jon said, and Spencer looked up from his lounging position. “Knowing your bad
Luck, the rope will snap.”
Spencer’s face fell. “Oh, thanks for the encouragement.” He sighed dramatically and turned onto his side, facing well away from Jon and his comments.
“Anyway, what’s got you so angsty-emo?” He heard Jon crunch something, and with his mouth full, he said, “That’s Ryan’s job.”
Spencer huffed once more and turned back onto the side that faces Jon. “Well maybe something bad has happened to me, today.” He furrowed his eyebrows dramatically. “Honestly, why do I even bother?”
Jon took another crunch of his food -- Green peppers, but Spencer knew that already. “So then, Mr. Suicidal. What’s happened?”
He sniffs and rubs his eyes, probably to provoke some form of tears that would deserve an Oscar. “Brendon Urie... that’s what’s happened.”
Jon rolled his eyes and switched seats, he nudged Spencer’s legs to sit down, and began to rub soothing -- but totally-not-gay -- circles into the side of his stomach. “What has that goofball done?”
Spencer screwed up his face, and Jon should have so noticed that he was preparing a long and heartfelt bitch. “Well...” Spencer started. “Noel and Ollie from the crew were packing up my drums, and they put it directly behind Motion City’s bus. I left for two seconds to get a Red Bull, and what do I see?” Spencer continued with no pause for Jon. “Brendon running away. It turns out the bastard had harassed Motion City’s driver to let him drive for five minutes. He caved, and let him take the wheel...” He sighed. “He drove right over my Hi-hat just before I saw him run.”
Jon’s face remained stony. “He ruined your ...?”
Spencer nodded solemnly. “Yeah...” He huffed once more. “Know where Urie is?”
Jon smirked and squeezed Spencer’s side slightly. “Will this involve First Degree murder?”
“Second Degree.”
Jon shook his head, a smug grin still plastered on his face. “Nope, you’ve thought about it. Therefore, first degree.”
Spencer hates the law. He really does. “Sigh,” he said aloud. “I suppose I’ll just--”
He was interrupted by the sliding of the bus doors. To Spencer’s dismay; it was the man he really didn’t need to see at that moment in time. He sat up from his lounging position and scowled at him. “Fuck off.”
Brendon grinned, and held something behind his back. “No,” he replied cockily.
“Spencer.” Jon warned softly, he stroked the palm of Spencer’s right hand, just a reminder that he needs to remain calm.
Spencer scoffed and stood up to face Brendon. “Listen, dickhead. I might be younger than you, but this was all your fucking--”
Jon’s mouth hung open as Brendon revealed what was behind his back. One of Spencer’s mangled and bumpy hi-hat cymbals was in his possession. He raised it above Spencer’s head, before swinging it down and smacking him on the top of his skull with a dull thump. Spencer instantly grabbed his throbbing head and spat out curses like they were going out of fashion. Brendon frowned and gritted his teeth. “That’s for calling me a “useless fucking mess” when I accidentally ran over your worthless fucking hi-hat!” He turned on his heel and left, he muttered, “Asshole.” On his way out.
Jon’s mouth was still hanging wide open, his brain unable to form words, and his throat was choked up. “Spence--”
Before Jon could even finish his sentence; Spencer’s fist was flying towards Jon’s nose. It collided and created a blood-curdling thud, and possibly a crack. Jon fell back onto the sofa, clutching his nose as he willed the tears back into their ducts. He looked up with watery eyes to find Spencer had left, leaving only Jon and his throbbing nose. Jon took his hand away to look at the ruby red trickling from his nose. “Jesus...”
He stood from the sofa; he carefully walked over to the tiny sink and tried not to get any blood on the cream carpet. He managed to fix up his nose with shit loads of paper towels he found in one of the many cupboards; the blood already began to soak them after two minutes. Jon looked in the mirror to assess his nose; bloody and bruised -- Much like his ego.
He pulled out his sidekick, and typed with his spare hand.
“To: Ryan.
We need 2 GTFO Tour rn. Spith jst punchd me in the nose. Nt cool.”
Within seconds; Ryan had replied.
“From: Ryan.
lol. PMS, Y/N?”
Jon sighed and didn’t bother to reply. Why do I take this shit from them?
Bitch Fit Two - Breakfast
Jon cracked his sleepy eye to the sound of cursing and the smell of something ... Burnt.
“You absolute motherfucker!” He heard Spencer screech in anger, followed by several clatters and bangs.
Jon groaned and lifted his head from his almost-flat pillow. “Spencer!” He yelled. “What are you doing?” He had barely enough sleep because of his nose, he didn’t need this shit for the guy who punched him.
“Fucking pans! Fucking tins! Fucking--” Spencer’s mindless rant was interrupted by another clatter of metal.
Jon huffed and threw his comforter off his legs; he pulled back his curtain and climbed out. “Fuck this,” he muttered as he shuffled towards the front of the bus and towards the noise.
He was instantly faced with Spencer Smith’s morning attitude. His hair in sleepy wisps’, and his face was fixed to a frown. Jon had just managed to dodge a low-flying can of lentils that were aimed for his chest. “Dude, calm down!”
Spencer glared at him angrily. “No, I won’t fucking “calm down . I’m making breakfast for you, and there’s nothing.” He tossed another tin of lentils across the bus, which just missed Ryan’s laptop.
He frowned. “Breakfast for me?” He thought, but Jon huffed angrily and muttered, “Screw this.”
Before he even realized what he was doing, he was heading over towards Spencer, and he closed the gap between their lips forcefully. He held the back of Spencer’s neck to keep him in place, closing off any chance of escape. He felt him squirm underneath his lips, but Jon pushed his hips forward and pinned him against the nearest object -- Fortunately, a cupboard. He heard something that sounded like a mewl, and Spencer’s lips cracked open slightly, allowing Jon’s tongue inside his mouth. Jon pushed in, and his hands automatically grasped his hips. Oh, God, Spencer’s hips. Why didn’t he notice those before? It was only a matter of time before Spencer’s hands were roaming Jon’s back, and Jon mimicked him too. Tongues colliding. Lips crashing. Jon kind of felt like he was about to be sick, it was so fucking cute.
Jon heard a creak from the bunks, but he didn’t stop the rhythm. He was pretty sure one of the guys were watching. Brendon, Ryan, or possibly even Zack. He didn’t care. He was enjoying this, even if it was too fucking adorable for his stomach to handle. Spencer mumbled something that sounded venomous, and then a sudden punch to the stomach soon got the message through. Jon dropped to his knees and cradled his throbbing belly, groaning heavily. Spencer scoffed with malice and walked away; leaving Jon hunched double in the middle of the bus with a boner and a bruised stomach.
Bitch Fit Three - Heat
Jon really thought he was boiling from the inside out. The bus had broken down in the middle of Houston (fortunately, around five minutes walk away from a Gas station). The air conditioner was down. The fans were down. All in all; they were fucked.
Brendon whimpered pathetically as he fanned his naked chest. “Fuckin’ hot!”
Ryan grimaced in disgust. “Do you have to be naked?” He commented with dignity, despite the fact that he was currently sweating out 90% of his body weight in sweat because of his heavy dress shirt.
Brendon scoffed. “Semi naked, thank you very much.”
Jon smiled and tilted his head back, a desperate attempt to catch some of the gentle breeze that came in from the open window. He enjoyed it like this, everyone was here and no one was arguing, they were all at peace. Admittedly, it would have been better if they broke down somewhere a little cooler than Houston in a freak spring heat-wave. He could only hear the clinking of the mechanics working at the engine, and Ryan and Brendon’s random babbling. Other than that, everything was peaceful. He sighed and sunk in his chair, the leather began to stick to his skin.
A few moments later, Jon heard the bus door close and the stomp of footsteps. Before he could recognize him, Spencer had dumped cool popsicles of a variety of colours over his chest. It was enough to make his breathing falter. “Spencer! What the fuck?!”
Spencer’s eyes looked so focused, Jon was pretty sure he could bend spoons with only his cold stare - Bring on Uri Geller.
He pointed first at Jon, then Brendon, and finally Ryan. “You vile fuckers made me go out there in that stupid sun and heat to go get semi-frozen popsicles!”
Brendon nodded before turning to Ryan. “See? Spence gets the concept of “Semi”.”
“Listen, Spence, can you just chill out?” Jon asked pleadingly.
“NoIcannotbecauseofthisfuckingheat!” He replied in one breath.
Brendon chuckled under his breath and muttered something about weather humour. Jon shook his head and frowned. “Seriously, dude. These past few days... You’ve seemed really pissed off.”
Spencer huffed and stomped off through the bunks and towards the back lounge. Jon was pretty sure he wasn’t thinking clearly, otherwise Spencer would have avoided the hottest part of the bus. Jon screwed up his face and turned to Ryan. “You’ve been friends since he as five, what’s wrong with him?”
Ryan furrowed his brow and shrugged. “I don’t know, dude. He’s rarely this bad. How long has he been like this?”
Jon looked over at Brendon. “Well, the first time he got pissed off was about the hi-hat,” he replied honestly before raising an eyebrow toward Brendon.
He scowled. “Don’t look at me like that, Walker. He actually had one of his hissy fits before I ran over his hi-hat.”
“You ran over his hi-hat?!” Ryan exclaimed.
Brendon shrugged and muttered something under his breath; Jon pushed their conversation out of his head and focused on Spencer. Why was he being so moody? It was really rubbing Jon up the wrong way. Although... There was the puke-inducing kiss. Which, admittedly, wasn’t that bad. But whatever, just because Spencer felt good under his fingertips and lips didn’t mean Spencer enjoyed it too. He did, in fact, punch him hard in the stomach. Yeah, Jon was slightly confused.
“I’m gonna go check on Spencer.” Ryan muttered monotonously.
Jon’s eyes widened. “No!” He exclaimed, before he reclaimed his composure. “No... I’ll go.”
Ryan and Brendon exchanged a knowing glance (which made Jon twice as nervous) before Brendon nodded and chirped. “Okay!”
Jon really had no idea what was going to happen. Brendon and Ryan obviously had some knowledge of what was going on, but they were unwilling to spill the beans. He had to go in. He had to. Throughout this small crisis of courage, Jon’s feet had already carried him halfway to the door. He gulped as he approached the back lounge, his hand reached out nervously towards the handle. Within one swift movement, he was halfway in the door. “Spencer?” He called softly in fear he would wake a sleeping giant.
No response.
The room was in pitch darkness. Jon frowned and stepped into the room fully, and he closed the door behind him with a click. “Spence?” He called with no response. “Spencer, c’mon. Don’t be mad.”
There was a pressure. It was unfamiliar. It was strange. The thing that scared Jon was - He wanted it. He wanted the pressure within his chest and his pants. It was warm and slightly awesome, even if it did make him feel even hotter. He gulped. “Spencer?”
He heard a hush from behind him, which was followed by a set of hands slither around him stomach, the palms rubbing against the sweat-soaked t-shirt. “Don't move, don't make a sound.”
Jon gulped and obeyed, he looked up directly at the ceiling as the hands dipped under Jon's shirt slowly. They pulled the material up slowly, and Jon just let them do their thing. They pulled it over Jon's head and it landed with a flop onto the floor. It felt like a lifetime, but a pair of familiar lips were pressing against the skin of Jon's neck. He sighed and tipped his head back. “Spencer...”
He heard another hushing sound, but this time it was much more affectionate. “I want you.” It was accompanied by another ferocious kiss on his shoulder.
Jon disregarded what Spencer had said previously and turned around to face him. Even in pitch darkness, he could see the lust within him eyes. “You're beautiful.”
He could feel Spencer release a shaky breath, and within a moment his chest was pressed against Jon's. Spencer's tongue pushed it's way into his mouth haphazardly, but did Jon care? Hell no, he had been waiting for this for over weeks - He was even willing to admit he had liked Spencer for much longer than a few days. Spencer made a strangled moan and his hips bucked into Jon's who, in turn, moaned too. Jon pulled back for air, and in between gasps, he said, “I think you need to apologise.”
Spencer shoved him, and he stumbled and fell onto the leather sofa. “I'll apologise to you.” He sauntered over to Jon and straddled Jon's hips. “I'll apologise, but if I apologise in the same way to Brendon and Ryan, it'll make you very jealous.”
Jon gulped. He had never seen Spencer so damn sexy - It was so awesome. He decided to play along. “Oh really?” He told himself silently that he failed. “So apologise. Now.”
Spencer smirked. “Why, mister Walker, aren't you the bitchy one.”
Jon had a sudden urge. He acted on it. His hand automatically grabbed Spencer's dick through his jeans and rubbed. Spencer's eyes snapped closed and his mouth formed a perfect circle, followed by yet another shaky breath. Jon totally knew how to control Spencer now.
Spencer's eyes fluttered open, his mouth was still made into an 'O' shape. “You ass.” Without warning, he rolled his hips on Jon's dick.
Jon really wanted to cut to the chase. He wrapped a hand around the back of Spencer's neck and pulled him down for a sloppy kiss as his free hand popped open his jeans button. They were now both soaked in sweat because of the insane mixture of heat and lust. Their tongues rubbed together as Jon's hand dipped into Spencer's boxers and wrapped around his dick. He let out a loud moan into Jon's mouth - He wouldn't be surprised if Brendon and Ryan were listening to all of this.
“Please... Move.” Spencer begged, and how could Jon resist that?
Jon's hand slowly worked it's way up and down the shaft, not paying any attention to Spencer's face. He flicked his thumb over the tip and a noise pretty much forced Jon to look up. Spencer's forehead was soaked in sweat, his cheat was rising and falling quickly. He was so close, and Jon knew it.
Without a second thought, Jon shuffled up slightly and ducked his head down. Spencer released a strangled moan and came as soon as Jon wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock and sucked hard. The several splatters of come hit the back of Jon throat and forced him to gag, he pulled off and spat it out to the side of the sofa. When he regained composure, he looked back at Spencer. His chest was still rapidly breathing, and his eyes were tightly shut. Jon smiled and rubbed his cheek. “Calm now?”
Spencer's eyes immediately snapped open and he huffed. He climbed awkwardly off Jon without a word and left him alone in the room with a slammed door. Jon could barely respond to the situation. He had really had enough of Spencer's attitude problem. So he gave him a handjob and then took his come in his mouth, and what thanks did he get? A throbbing boner and no relief.
Next time Spencer bitches, he is getting it all back.
Bitch Fit Four - The Confrontation
“Why the fuck won't you let me out?!” Spencer screamed in anger.
Jon woke with a jump to his words. He figured he must have fallen asleep after his and Spencer's little mishap, fortunately his boner was gone. Jon listened closely to the argument.
“Spencer, you know I can't. We're going soon.” Zack said in a calming voice.
Jon frowned. “Spence is arguing with Zack?” He said aloud.
Zack Hall pretty much shares parental responsibility with Jon, and Zack really does love them all, and the band loved him back. Jon knew he would jump in front of a bullet for them, regardless of whether he was payed to or not. He loved Spencer, especially, seeing as though he was the baby of the group. Hell, he let Spencer slam a plastic carry tray over his head, just for fun.
“I hate you, Zack! Jesus, can't you just fuck off?” Spencer screeched again.
He heard Zack huff angrily. “No. I have to stay here, even if you're in a stupid bitch fit.” Spencer growled angrily in reply.
Okay, now this was just plaid stupid.
Jon bared his teeth and stumbled up off the sofa. “Motherfuck...” He said awkwardly as he staggered out of the back lounge.
When he was in view of them all, Jon was automatically pissed off. Zack's face was a fierce red, and Brendon's eyes were the same colour, but his skin was puffy and blotchy. Ryan was rubbing soothing circles into Brendon's back as he almost looked hysterical as his chest heaved up and down in small jumps. Spencer's face as fixed into a frown, but as he turned to meet Jon's eyes, his expression softened into something that resembled fear. “Jon...?”
“Don't fucking Jon me, Spencer James Smith.” Jon spat angrily.
He's upset Brendon.
He's argued with Ryan and Zack.
He's left Jon hard on numerous occasions.
He's punched Jon twice.
He's dumped freezing popsicles over his body.
This was fucking payback.
“How fucking dare you do this, you selfish fucking bastard. How dare you? You have no reason to make Brendon cry and argue with Zack.” He waved over to Brendon.
“Yeah, but--”
“Shut the fuck up, Smith. It's my turn to talk now, you've had your bitchy say over these past few days. We're sick of your fucking attitude.” He turned to Brendon and calmly asked, “Why are you crying, Brenny?”
Brendon looked down and let out an odd audible breath. “He told me that I was useless and I shouldn't have joined the band.” He noticed Ryan 's hand rubbed just a little extra harder on his back.
Jon's mouth hung open. “He...?” He looked back at Spencer, and he almost looked like he was going to cry too, this was too fucked up. “Spencer...”
“I'm sorry,” he said timidly and shakily.
“No, you're not though, are you? Not really. You're attitude is so fucked up, Smith. How the fuck can you say that to him?! I thought you were friends?! Hell, I thought we were friends! Actually, no, scratch that, I thought we were something more.”
Zack's and Ryan's faces switched to surprise, even Brendon had stopped sobbing. Spencer's eyes narrowed, like he was trying to hold back tears.
“But no, you gave me a nosebleed, punched me in the stomach, and left me hard twice.” Jon shouted, he was on the verge of tears too.
“I just--”
Jon scoffed. “Spencer, can you just...” He shook his head. “Forget it. Just get a grip and stop acting like the whole fucking world is hating on you, when you're hating the world.”
And with that, Jon turned on his heel and headed for the back lounge, his uncovered feet slamming along the floor angrily. He entered the lounge and locked the door behind him. He stripped down and lay on the sofa. For the first time in nine years, he cried himself to sleep.
*~*~*
Jon was woken by a wet feeling on his neck, it was familiar, and he wondered how the fuck did Spencer get in. “Please don't send me away, Jon.” He heard Spencer say shakily, his voice sounded rough, like he had been sobbing too.
He cracked open his sleep-filled eye and saw Spencer's red and sore-looking eyes staring back, his iris' looked even bluer than normal. “I'm sorry.” He wrapped his arms around Jon's waist and hugged tight. “I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I don't want to lose you. I love you.”
Jon's lip started to shake childishly, he hugged Spencer close and kissed the top of his head. “I'm not going anywhere, just don't be like that again.”
He felt Spencer kiss the thin exposed strip of skin between his t-shirt and boxers. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through the drummers wispy hair. He felt the repeated kisses get harder until his eyes shot open as Spencer's mouth kissed his fabric-covered dick. “Oh god.”
Spencer looked up with apologetic eyes. “Can I make it up to you?”
Jon frowned but nodded anyway. Spencer stood from lying next to him and reached down to the end of the sofa, where he revealed a small green foil square and a small bottle - A condom and lube. Jon thought he might just explode if he got any harder. He nodded eagerly and stroked Spencer's wrist in acceptance.
Spencer tugged down Jon's boxers and licked the leaking tip teasingly. “Bottom or top?”
Jon bit his lip as he decided. “Top, lie on your back.”
He nodded without a word and obeyed his command. Jon popped open the cap of the lube and slicked up three fingers. He positioned himself in front of Spencer as the blood in his head began to pound in his ears. He pushed his index finger through the tight ring of muscle and felt Spencer contract only slightly. Jon smirked underneath him and kissed the inside of his thigh. He felt Spencer push against him, and he took that as a signal to add another finger.
Without any other delay Jon added a second finger, and yet again, Spencer barely flinched. This time, Jon bit the flesh of his thigh slightly. Spencer bucked his hips hard and panted, “Third. Now.”
Jon licked his lips and pushed in his third finger, all the way up to his knuckle. The ring of muscle was now so freaking tight that Jon feared he may actually lose his three fingers. He heard Spencer pant heavily and grab his shoulder. “Curl, please.”
Jon obeyed and curled his three fingers in synchrony; It was safe to say he hit something good when he bucked his hips yet again and released a low sexy moan.
He pulled out without a word and wiped off the excess lube onto the sofa (Fuck it, he'll clean later). Jon tore open the condom with his teeth and slipped it on, before he coated his dick with lube - All of this within a minute, a new personal record, if Jon remembers correctly.
He angles his hips as best as he can, and the only thing he can look at are those eyes, blue and lust-filled and God. Without thinking about it any more, he pushed in slowly, not breaking eye-contact at all with him. He saw Spencer's eyebrows furrow in pain and immediately stopped. “You ok--”
“Fucking move.” Spencer commanded through gritted teeth.
Jon raised an eyebrow and smirked, before he pushed fully into Spencer and watched as his jaw dropped and a moan escaped. They continued a rhythm, but quickly enough, the younger man began to push back, clearly asking for more. Jon complied and slammed harder into him, the lube clearly wearing out quickly. He watched as Spencer turned into a spluttering mess underneath him, and when Jon wrapped his hand around his dick - Well, there was only so much a man can take.
Without warning, Spencer came in white splatters along him stomach and hand. The tension of his orgasm carried through into Jon's dick and, in turn, caused him to climax, painting the inside of the condom white.
They stilled. Jon was still inside. Spencer was still full. They didn't want to move because they were just too damn exhausted. Ever since Spencer's infinite days of bitching had caught up with them during their “forgiveness”, but Jon still hadn't achieved anything other than some relief- Brendon was still upset.
“Apologise to Brendon.” Jon commanded breathlessly.
Spencer whimpered in confusion. “What?”
Jon pulled away, their bodies were coated in a thin film of sweat. “Apologise. To Brendon.”
Spencer huffed out a laugh and nodded weakly. “I will.”
He nodded, satisfied. He slipped out and tied the condom, before he threw it into the trash can. Jon ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at Spencer - The younger man smirked and bitched, “You suck at sex.”
Jon shook his head and grinned. “Don't start, Smith.”
Spencer James Smith will always be a bitch - Even after sex.
Author: Santipathy
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jon/Spencer
POV: Third
Word Count: 4508
Summary: When Spencer came into the bus with an attitude every day for one week, Jon finally has had enough.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Didn't happen (I don't think), but if Jon and Spencer really did have a bitch-off ... I want the video. Title taken from Lostprophets' If It Wasn't For Hate (We'd Be Dead Right Now).
Beta: Heads_only_meds
Author Notes: Okay, Summaries for shitty Standalones are not the best thing about me... So throw me a bone, ‘kay? Props to heads_only_meds for sparking the conversation with the idea that Jon and Spencer really would have a bitch-off if Spencer was being particularly annoying that day. So... Enjoy?
Bitch Fit One - Cymbals
Spencer stumbled into the bus with a loud huff, before slamming the door closed angrily. His footsteps echoed around the tour bus, and he couldn’t care less if someone was asleep.
Okay, he might be a little quieter if Ryan was asleep.
He threw himself onto the leather sofa, face first. Spencer’s plan was to mope around, huff a lot, and maybe even wallow in his own pity in the form of many Hershey Bars. He sighed and buried his fingers into the carpet, he barely even registered the fact that Jon was staring blankly at him from the opposite sofa. “Maybe I could just hang myself...”
“Nuh uh.” Jon said, and Spencer looked up from his lounging position. “Knowing your bad
Luck, the rope will snap.”
Spencer’s face fell. “Oh, thanks for the encouragement.” He sighed dramatically and turned onto his side, facing well away from Jon and his comments.
“Anyway, what’s got you so angsty-emo?” He heard Jon crunch something, and with his mouth full, he said, “That’s Ryan’s job.”
Spencer huffed once more and turned back onto the side that faces Jon. “Well maybe something bad has happened to me, today.” He furrowed his eyebrows dramatically. “Honestly, why do I even bother?”
Jon took another crunch of his food -- Green peppers, but Spencer knew that already. “So then, Mr. Suicidal. What’s happened?”
He sniffs and rubs his eyes, probably to provoke some form of tears that would deserve an Oscar. “Brendon Urie... that’s what’s happened.”
Jon rolled his eyes and switched seats, he nudged Spencer’s legs to sit down, and began to rub soothing -- but totally-not-gay -- circles into the side of his stomach. “What has that goofball done?”
Spencer screwed up his face, and Jon should have so noticed that he was preparing a long and heartfelt bitch. “Well...” Spencer started. “Noel and Ollie from the crew were packing up my drums, and they put it directly behind Motion City’s bus. I left for two seconds to get a Red Bull, and what do I see?” Spencer continued with no pause for Jon. “Brendon running away. It turns out the bastard had harassed Motion City’s driver to let him drive for five minutes. He caved, and let him take the wheel...” He sighed. “He drove right over my Hi-hat just before I saw him run.”
Jon’s face remained stony. “He ruined your ...?”
Spencer nodded solemnly. “Yeah...” He huffed once more. “Know where Urie is?”
Jon smirked and squeezed Spencer’s side slightly. “Will this involve First Degree murder?”
“Second Degree.”
Jon shook his head, a smug grin still plastered on his face. “Nope, you’ve thought about it. Therefore, first degree.”
Spencer hates the law. He really does. “Sigh,” he said aloud. “I suppose I’ll just--”
He was interrupted by the sliding of the bus doors. To Spencer’s dismay; it was the man he really didn’t need to see at that moment in time. He sat up from his lounging position and scowled at him. “Fuck off.”
Brendon grinned, and held something behind his back. “No,” he replied cockily.
“Spencer.” Jon warned softly, he stroked the palm of Spencer’s right hand, just a reminder that he needs to remain calm.
Spencer scoffed and stood up to face Brendon. “Listen, dickhead. I might be younger than you, but this was all your fucking--”
Jon’s mouth hung open as Brendon revealed what was behind his back. One of Spencer’s mangled and bumpy hi-hat cymbals was in his possession. He raised it above Spencer’s head, before swinging it down and smacking him on the top of his skull with a dull thump. Spencer instantly grabbed his throbbing head and spat out curses like they were going out of fashion. Brendon frowned and gritted his teeth. “That’s for calling me a “useless fucking mess” when I accidentally ran over your worthless fucking hi-hat!” He turned on his heel and left, he muttered, “Asshole.” On his way out.
Jon’s mouth was still hanging wide open, his brain unable to form words, and his throat was choked up. “Spence--”
Before Jon could even finish his sentence; Spencer’s fist was flying towards Jon’s nose. It collided and created a blood-curdling thud, and possibly a crack. Jon fell back onto the sofa, clutching his nose as he willed the tears back into their ducts. He looked up with watery eyes to find Spencer had left, leaving only Jon and his throbbing nose. Jon took his hand away to look at the ruby red trickling from his nose. “Jesus...”
He stood from the sofa; he carefully walked over to the tiny sink and tried not to get any blood on the cream carpet. He managed to fix up his nose with shit loads of paper towels he found in one of the many cupboards; the blood already began to soak them after two minutes. Jon looked in the mirror to assess his nose; bloody and bruised -- Much like his ego.
He pulled out his sidekick, and typed with his spare hand.
“To: Ryan.
We need 2 GTFO Tour rn. Spith jst punchd me in the nose. Nt cool.”
Within seconds; Ryan had replied.
“From: Ryan.
lol. PMS, Y/N?”
Jon sighed and didn’t bother to reply. Why do I take this shit from them?
Bitch Fit Two - Breakfast
Jon cracked his sleepy eye to the sound of cursing and the smell of something ... Burnt.
“You absolute motherfucker!” He heard Spencer screech in anger, followed by several clatters and bangs.
Jon groaned and lifted his head from his almost-flat pillow. “Spencer!” He yelled. “What are you doing?” He had barely enough sleep because of his nose, he didn’t need this shit for the guy who punched him.
“Fucking pans! Fucking tins! Fucking--” Spencer’s mindless rant was interrupted by another clatter of metal.
Jon huffed and threw his comforter off his legs; he pulled back his curtain and climbed out. “Fuck this,” he muttered as he shuffled towards the front of the bus and towards the noise.
He was instantly faced with Spencer Smith’s morning attitude. His hair in sleepy wisps’, and his face was fixed to a frown. Jon had just managed to dodge a low-flying can of lentils that were aimed for his chest. “Dude, calm down!”
Spencer glared at him angrily. “No, I won’t fucking “calm down . I’m making breakfast for you, and there’s nothing.” He tossed another tin of lentils across the bus, which just missed Ryan’s laptop.
He frowned. “Breakfast for me?” He thought, but Jon huffed angrily and muttered, “Screw this.”
Before he even realized what he was doing, he was heading over towards Spencer, and he closed the gap between their lips forcefully. He held the back of Spencer’s neck to keep him in place, closing off any chance of escape. He felt him squirm underneath his lips, but Jon pushed his hips forward and pinned him against the nearest object -- Fortunately, a cupboard. He heard something that sounded like a mewl, and Spencer’s lips cracked open slightly, allowing Jon’s tongue inside his mouth. Jon pushed in, and his hands automatically grasped his hips. Oh, God, Spencer’s hips. Why didn’t he notice those before? It was only a matter of time before Spencer’s hands were roaming Jon’s back, and Jon mimicked him too. Tongues colliding. Lips crashing. Jon kind of felt like he was about to be sick, it was so fucking cute.
Jon heard a creak from the bunks, but he didn’t stop the rhythm. He was pretty sure one of the guys were watching. Brendon, Ryan, or possibly even Zack. He didn’t care. He was enjoying this, even if it was too fucking adorable for his stomach to handle. Spencer mumbled something that sounded venomous, and then a sudden punch to the stomach soon got the message through. Jon dropped to his knees and cradled his throbbing belly, groaning heavily. Spencer scoffed with malice and walked away; leaving Jon hunched double in the middle of the bus with a boner and a bruised stomach.
Bitch Fit Three - Heat
Jon really thought he was boiling from the inside out. The bus had broken down in the middle of Houston (fortunately, around five minutes walk away from a Gas station). The air conditioner was down. The fans were down. All in all; they were fucked.
Brendon whimpered pathetically as he fanned his naked chest. “Fuckin’ hot!”
Ryan grimaced in disgust. “Do you have to be naked?” He commented with dignity, despite the fact that he was currently sweating out 90% of his body weight in sweat because of his heavy dress shirt.
Brendon scoffed. “Semi naked, thank you very much.”
Jon smiled and tilted his head back, a desperate attempt to catch some of the gentle breeze that came in from the open window. He enjoyed it like this, everyone was here and no one was arguing, they were all at peace. Admittedly, it would have been better if they broke down somewhere a little cooler than Houston in a freak spring heat-wave. He could only hear the clinking of the mechanics working at the engine, and Ryan and Brendon’s random babbling. Other than that, everything was peaceful. He sighed and sunk in his chair, the leather began to stick to his skin.
A few moments later, Jon heard the bus door close and the stomp of footsteps. Before he could recognize him, Spencer had dumped cool popsicles of a variety of colours over his chest. It was enough to make his breathing falter. “Spencer! What the fuck?!”
Spencer’s eyes looked so focused, Jon was pretty sure he could bend spoons with only his cold stare - Bring on Uri Geller.
He pointed first at Jon, then Brendon, and finally Ryan. “You vile fuckers made me go out there in that stupid sun and heat to go get semi-frozen popsicles!”
Brendon nodded before turning to Ryan. “See? Spence gets the concept of “Semi”.”
“Listen, Spence, can you just chill out?” Jon asked pleadingly.
“NoIcannotbecauseofthisfuckingheat!” He replied in one breath.
Brendon chuckled under his breath and muttered something about weather humour. Jon shook his head and frowned. “Seriously, dude. These past few days... You’ve seemed really pissed off.”
Spencer huffed and stomped off through the bunks and towards the back lounge. Jon was pretty sure he wasn’t thinking clearly, otherwise Spencer would have avoided the hottest part of the bus. Jon screwed up his face and turned to Ryan. “You’ve been friends since he as five, what’s wrong with him?”
Ryan furrowed his brow and shrugged. “I don’t know, dude. He’s rarely this bad. How long has he been like this?”
Jon looked over at Brendon. “Well, the first time he got pissed off was about the hi-hat,” he replied honestly before raising an eyebrow toward Brendon.
He scowled. “Don’t look at me like that, Walker. He actually had one of his hissy fits before I ran over his hi-hat.”
“You ran over his hi-hat?!” Ryan exclaimed.
Brendon shrugged and muttered something under his breath; Jon pushed their conversation out of his head and focused on Spencer. Why was he being so moody? It was really rubbing Jon up the wrong way. Although... There was the puke-inducing kiss. Which, admittedly, wasn’t that bad. But whatever, just because Spencer felt good under his fingertips and lips didn’t mean Spencer enjoyed it too. He did, in fact, punch him hard in the stomach. Yeah, Jon was slightly confused.
“I’m gonna go check on Spencer.” Ryan muttered monotonously.
Jon’s eyes widened. “No!” He exclaimed, before he reclaimed his composure. “No... I’ll go.”
Ryan and Brendon exchanged a knowing glance (which made Jon twice as nervous) before Brendon nodded and chirped. “Okay!”
Jon really had no idea what was going to happen. Brendon and Ryan obviously had some knowledge of what was going on, but they were unwilling to spill the beans. He had to go in. He had to. Throughout this small crisis of courage, Jon’s feet had already carried him halfway to the door. He gulped as he approached the back lounge, his hand reached out nervously towards the handle. Within one swift movement, he was halfway in the door. “Spencer?” He called softly in fear he would wake a sleeping giant.
No response.
The room was in pitch darkness. Jon frowned and stepped into the room fully, and he closed the door behind him with a click. “Spence?” He called with no response. “Spencer, c’mon. Don’t be mad.”
There was a pressure. It was unfamiliar. It was strange. The thing that scared Jon was - He wanted it. He wanted the pressure within his chest and his pants. It was warm and slightly awesome, even if it did make him feel even hotter. He gulped. “Spencer?”
He heard a hush from behind him, which was followed by a set of hands slither around him stomach, the palms rubbing against the sweat-soaked t-shirt. “Don't move, don't make a sound.”
Jon gulped and obeyed, he looked up directly at the ceiling as the hands dipped under Jon's shirt slowly. They pulled the material up slowly, and Jon just let them do their thing. They pulled it over Jon's head and it landed with a flop onto the floor. It felt like a lifetime, but a pair of familiar lips were pressing against the skin of Jon's neck. He sighed and tipped his head back. “Spencer...”
He heard another hushing sound, but this time it was much more affectionate. “I want you.” It was accompanied by another ferocious kiss on his shoulder.
Jon disregarded what Spencer had said previously and turned around to face him. Even in pitch darkness, he could see the lust within him eyes. “You're beautiful.”
He could feel Spencer release a shaky breath, and within a moment his chest was pressed against Jon's. Spencer's tongue pushed it's way into his mouth haphazardly, but did Jon care? Hell no, he had been waiting for this for over weeks - He was even willing to admit he had liked Spencer for much longer than a few days. Spencer made a strangled moan and his hips bucked into Jon's who, in turn, moaned too. Jon pulled back for air, and in between gasps, he said, “I think you need to apologise.”
Spencer shoved him, and he stumbled and fell onto the leather sofa. “I'll apologise to you.” He sauntered over to Jon and straddled Jon's hips. “I'll apologise, but if I apologise in the same way to Brendon and Ryan, it'll make you very jealous.”
Jon gulped. He had never seen Spencer so damn sexy - It was so awesome. He decided to play along. “Oh really?” He told himself silently that he failed. “So apologise. Now.”
Spencer smirked. “Why, mister Walker, aren't you the bitchy one.”
Jon had a sudden urge. He acted on it. His hand automatically grabbed Spencer's dick through his jeans and rubbed. Spencer's eyes snapped closed and his mouth formed a perfect circle, followed by yet another shaky breath. Jon totally knew how to control Spencer now.
Spencer's eyes fluttered open, his mouth was still made into an 'O' shape. “You ass.” Without warning, he rolled his hips on Jon's dick.
Jon really wanted to cut to the chase. He wrapped a hand around the back of Spencer's neck and pulled him down for a sloppy kiss as his free hand popped open his jeans button. They were now both soaked in sweat because of the insane mixture of heat and lust. Their tongues rubbed together as Jon's hand dipped into Spencer's boxers and wrapped around his dick. He let out a loud moan into Jon's mouth - He wouldn't be surprised if Brendon and Ryan were listening to all of this.
“Please... Move.” Spencer begged, and how could Jon resist that?
Jon's hand slowly worked it's way up and down the shaft, not paying any attention to Spencer's face. He flicked his thumb over the tip and a noise pretty much forced Jon to look up. Spencer's forehead was soaked in sweat, his cheat was rising and falling quickly. He was so close, and Jon knew it.
Without a second thought, Jon shuffled up slightly and ducked his head down. Spencer released a strangled moan and came as soon as Jon wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock and sucked hard. The several splatters of come hit the back of Jon throat and forced him to gag, he pulled off and spat it out to the side of the sofa. When he regained composure, he looked back at Spencer. His chest was still rapidly breathing, and his eyes were tightly shut. Jon smiled and rubbed his cheek. “Calm now?”
Spencer's eyes immediately snapped open and he huffed. He climbed awkwardly off Jon without a word and left him alone in the room with a slammed door. Jon could barely respond to the situation. He had really had enough of Spencer's attitude problem. So he gave him a handjob and then took his come in his mouth, and what thanks did he get? A throbbing boner and no relief.
Next time Spencer bitches, he is getting it all back.
Bitch Fit Four - The Confrontation
“Why the fuck won't you let me out?!” Spencer screamed in anger.
Jon woke with a jump to his words. He figured he must have fallen asleep after his and Spencer's little mishap, fortunately his boner was gone. Jon listened closely to the argument.
“Spencer, you know I can't. We're going soon.” Zack said in a calming voice.
Jon frowned. “Spence is arguing with Zack?” He said aloud.
Zack Hall pretty much shares parental responsibility with Jon, and Zack really does love them all, and the band loved him back. Jon knew he would jump in front of a bullet for them, regardless of whether he was payed to or not. He loved Spencer, especially, seeing as though he was the baby of the group. Hell, he let Spencer slam a plastic carry tray over his head, just for fun.
“I hate you, Zack! Jesus, can't you just fuck off?” Spencer screeched again.
He heard Zack huff angrily. “No. I have to stay here, even if you're in a stupid bitch fit.” Spencer growled angrily in reply.
Okay, now this was just plaid stupid.
Jon bared his teeth and stumbled up off the sofa. “Motherfuck...” He said awkwardly as he staggered out of the back lounge.
When he was in view of them all, Jon was automatically pissed off. Zack's face was a fierce red, and Brendon's eyes were the same colour, but his skin was puffy and blotchy. Ryan was rubbing soothing circles into Brendon's back as he almost looked hysterical as his chest heaved up and down in small jumps. Spencer's face as fixed into a frown, but as he turned to meet Jon's eyes, his expression softened into something that resembled fear. “Jon...?”
“Don't fucking Jon me, Spencer James Smith.” Jon spat angrily.
He's upset Brendon.
He's argued with Ryan and Zack.
He's left Jon hard on numerous occasions.
He's punched Jon twice.
He's dumped freezing popsicles over his body.
This was fucking payback.
“How fucking dare you do this, you selfish fucking bastard. How dare you? You have no reason to make Brendon cry and argue with Zack.” He waved over to Brendon.
“Yeah, but--”
“Shut the fuck up, Smith. It's my turn to talk now, you've had your bitchy say over these past few days. We're sick of your fucking attitude.” He turned to Brendon and calmly asked, “Why are you crying, Brenny?”
Brendon looked down and let out an odd audible breath. “He told me that I was useless and I shouldn't have joined the band.” He noticed Ryan 's hand rubbed just a little extra harder on his back.
Jon's mouth hung open. “He...?” He looked back at Spencer, and he almost looked like he was going to cry too, this was too fucked up. “Spencer...”
“I'm sorry,” he said timidly and shakily.
“No, you're not though, are you? Not really. You're attitude is so fucked up, Smith. How the fuck can you say that to him?! I thought you were friends?! Hell, I thought we were friends! Actually, no, scratch that, I thought we were something more.”
Zack's and Ryan's faces switched to surprise, even Brendon had stopped sobbing. Spencer's eyes narrowed, like he was trying to hold back tears.
“But no, you gave me a nosebleed, punched me in the stomach, and left me hard twice.” Jon shouted, he was on the verge of tears too.
“I just--”
Jon scoffed. “Spencer, can you just...” He shook his head. “Forget it. Just get a grip and stop acting like the whole fucking world is hating on you, when you're hating the world.”
And with that, Jon turned on his heel and headed for the back lounge, his uncovered feet slamming along the floor angrily. He entered the lounge and locked the door behind him. He stripped down and lay on the sofa. For the first time in nine years, he cried himself to sleep.
*~*~*
Jon was woken by a wet feeling on his neck, it was familiar, and he wondered how the fuck did Spencer get in. “Please don't send me away, Jon.” He heard Spencer say shakily, his voice sounded rough, like he had been sobbing too.
He cracked open his sleep-filled eye and saw Spencer's red and sore-looking eyes staring back, his iris' looked even bluer than normal. “I'm sorry.” He wrapped his arms around Jon's waist and hugged tight. “I'm so sorry, please forgive me. I don't want to lose you. I love you.”
Jon's lip started to shake childishly, he hugged Spencer close and kissed the top of his head. “I'm not going anywhere, just don't be like that again.”
He felt Spencer kiss the thin exposed strip of skin between his t-shirt and boxers. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers through the drummers wispy hair. He felt the repeated kisses get harder until his eyes shot open as Spencer's mouth kissed his fabric-covered dick. “Oh god.”
Spencer looked up with apologetic eyes. “Can I make it up to you?”
Jon frowned but nodded anyway. Spencer stood from lying next to him and reached down to the end of the sofa, where he revealed a small green foil square and a small bottle - A condom and lube. Jon thought he might just explode if he got any harder. He nodded eagerly and stroked Spencer's wrist in acceptance.
Spencer tugged down Jon's boxers and licked the leaking tip teasingly. “Bottom or top?”
Jon bit his lip as he decided. “Top, lie on your back.”
He nodded without a word and obeyed his command. Jon popped open the cap of the lube and slicked up three fingers. He positioned himself in front of Spencer as the blood in his head began to pound in his ears. He pushed his index finger through the tight ring of muscle and felt Spencer contract only slightly. Jon smirked underneath him and kissed the inside of his thigh. He felt Spencer push against him, and he took that as a signal to add another finger.
Without any other delay Jon added a second finger, and yet again, Spencer barely flinched. This time, Jon bit the flesh of his thigh slightly. Spencer bucked his hips hard and panted, “Third. Now.”
Jon licked his lips and pushed in his third finger, all the way up to his knuckle. The ring of muscle was now so freaking tight that Jon feared he may actually lose his three fingers. He heard Spencer pant heavily and grab his shoulder. “Curl, please.”
Jon obeyed and curled his three fingers in synchrony; It was safe to say he hit something good when he bucked his hips yet again and released a low sexy moan.
He pulled out without a word and wiped off the excess lube onto the sofa (Fuck it, he'll clean later). Jon tore open the condom with his teeth and slipped it on, before he coated his dick with lube - All of this within a minute, a new personal record, if Jon remembers correctly.
He angles his hips as best as he can, and the only thing he can look at are those eyes, blue and lust-filled and God. Without thinking about it any more, he pushed in slowly, not breaking eye-contact at all with him. He saw Spencer's eyebrows furrow in pain and immediately stopped. “You ok--”
“Fucking move.” Spencer commanded through gritted teeth.
Jon raised an eyebrow and smirked, before he pushed fully into Spencer and watched as his jaw dropped and a moan escaped. They continued a rhythm, but quickly enough, the younger man began to push back, clearly asking for more. Jon complied and slammed harder into him, the lube clearly wearing out quickly. He watched as Spencer turned into a spluttering mess underneath him, and when Jon wrapped his hand around his dick - Well, there was only so much a man can take.
Without warning, Spencer came in white splatters along him stomach and hand. The tension of his orgasm carried through into Jon's dick and, in turn, caused him to climax, painting the inside of the condom white.
They stilled. Jon was still inside. Spencer was still full. They didn't want to move because they were just too damn exhausted. Ever since Spencer's infinite days of bitching had caught up with them during their “forgiveness”, but Jon still hadn't achieved anything other than some relief- Brendon was still upset.
“Apologise to Brendon.” Jon commanded breathlessly.
Spencer whimpered in confusion. “What?”
Jon pulled away, their bodies were coated in a thin film of sweat. “Apologise. To Brendon.”
Spencer huffed out a laugh and nodded weakly. “I will.”
He nodded, satisfied. He slipped out and tied the condom, before he threw it into the trash can. Jon ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at Spencer - The younger man smirked and bitched, “You suck at sex.”
Jon shook his head and grinned. “Don't start, Smith.”
Spencer James Smith will always be a bitch - Even after sex.