WIP dump, part 2/3 [more bandom]
[girl!Ryan and Z, and some bonus Alex Greenwald.]
The club is small - not a real venue at all, just a shitty bar where Z and some of her friends like to drink cheap beer and take advantage of the karaoke machine - and pretty poorly lit. Z's actually kind of thankful for that, after years of standing under hot stage lighting - it's nice to see the audience a little, especially when she's just rocking out an unpracticed version of Gimme Shelter and not something she's written herself. She likes seeing people's reactions when she's not too invested in them.
So she sees it when Alex walks in - doesn't break, though, because the wailing middle bit is her favourite - with a stranger, a thin girl with brown curls in her eyes. She looks a little familiar, but Alex has introduced Z to any number of girls over the years, and she's learned there's not much point paying attention to them. Z dated her own fair share of hipsters trying to get a leg up in the scene, she's given up on them after realising they're all the same.
She finishes the song with a flourish, because Z is the first person to admit she does a fucking fantastic Jagger, blows a kiss to the room at large, and then goes to drape herself over Alex's lap. He shouldn't be fucking anyone who can't deal with that, after all.
"Hey, baby," Z says, and Alex gives her a kiss on the cheek.
"That was pretty good," he tells her. "Hey, you've met Ryan, right?"
"I don't think so," Z says, although she might have. Ryan's wearing leggings and an American Apparel v-neck and an oversized jacket, and she looks a little familiar, but also like half the other girls in the room - except for the way she's holding her head. Z's willing to bet all that hair is in Ryan's face on purpose. "I'm Z," she adds.
"Nice to meet you," Ryan says, polite but calculated. She's looking up through her bangs at Z, except for when her gaze flickers down to - oh. Z's skirt, short enough to start with, has hiked up high enough that she's hardly fit to be in public. A year ago that wouldn't have bothered her, but Z's trying this whole new ladylike thing. Tennessee is half proud and half amused.
Z shifts, trying to get her skirt to fall a bit more gracefully without actively adjusting it, but it's a lost cause. It could be worse, at least; her nipples could be showing again.
"Ryan and I are going to do a duet later, right?" Alex says as Z reaches for his bottle of PBR.
Ryan winces a little, says "I don't do a lot of singing without my guitar," before taking a sip of her own beer.
"Are you any good?" Z asks, because she knows dozens of people who can pick out a few chords, but only a few who really know how to -play-.
"I'm okay," Ryan says with a shrug.
Alex laughs. "Okay doesn't get you a record deal," he says, and explains to Z, "Ryan and I were on tour together last summer."
Z frowns. She must have lost track of time more than she realised, because she thought that last summer was when Alex had been touring with a bunch of teenybopper bands. "You're in a band?" she asks. "Have I heard of you?"
"Um, maybe," Ryan says, clearly uncomfortable.
"Ryan's in Panic at the Disco," Alex says blithely.
"... Oh," Z says, because she doesn't know what to say. She knows the name - is pretty sure she's made fun of the name, if she's being serious - but can't name a single song. She doesn't listen to a lot of Top 40.
"You don't have to - whatever you're thinking, I've heard it before," Ryan says with a little smile at the corner of her mouth.
"I'm not thinking anything," Z tells her. "I just wasn't expecting that."
"I -told- you," Alex says, exasperated, even though he hasn't. Alex has a lot of conversations in his head that he insists are real. Z's known him for a long time. She's used to it. "I'm going to get another," he says, because Z's still holding onto his beer bottle, taking occasional small sips. She doesn't like beer all that much, would prefer something harder, but she'll always take stolen alcohol over anything else. "Don't take my seat or else," he warns as Z slides off his lap.
She looks behind her at the chair - it's tempting; Alex's revenge usually backfires, so the threat is more hilarious than it is actually frightening - but when Z smooths her skirt down with her free hand, she tries to casually check to see if Ryan's looking. She is.
"Do you mind?" Z asks, and without waiting for an answer, sets herself carefully down on Ryan.
Ryan is thin, but tall, and she feels sturdy under Z. "I don't mind," she says, and her arms cross unnecessarily around Z's waist.
* * *
[different universe where Jon and Spencer are both girls. this totally went off the rails. idek.]
Brendon is a giggly drunk, which is kind of annoying, but also a little bit useful, because Jon had a buzz going in her bunk, and by buzz she means a fifth of Jack and a teeny tiny vibrator.
She's always ridiculously nervous to touch herself when they're on the buses, which is all kinds of dumb, because every dude she's ever toured with has been happy to get his hands down his pants - or to outright just whip it out and jack off over whatever - without worrying too much about people overhearing, but Jon just... can't. She's too self-conscious, as much as she's trained herself out of caring what other people might think, and as much as she's made herself be okay with knowing that sex is good and natural and fun and there is fucking nothing wrong with getting herself off.
Jon maybe also has a speech that she gives to the new girls when there's more than, well, her, and that might be part of it. Usually Jon has the fifth of Jack before the speech, too, because just because she likes sex doesn't mean it's not sometimes awkward to talk about it, especially with like eighteen year olds who are so fresh and new and uncorrupted that you could just about bathe in their blood, if you were creepy and into that kind of thing.
Vicky-T is always great to hang with, because Vicky has even fewer hangups than Jon, and plus they can share pictures of their pets and whine about how they're not allowed puppies on the bus. Stupid label and its rules.
Jon's been the only girl, though, for a while, and she still hasn't quite adjusted since they started touring with Panic, and especially not since she somehow blinked and clicked her heels together and ten minutes later she was ditching Cassie at her prom and flying back to kind of unofficially sort of become part of Panic. The official part happened not that much longer, and despite the fact that she loves all three of her new bandmates and has hung around with them possibly even more than she ever did with the Farewell Night guys or [Other Band], she's still not entirely used to being around Spencer. Or at least, not to be thinking of Spencer as a girl.
For some reason, Spence is like the only girl Jon hasn't sat down and given the tour safety talk to, the one that they don't even need to have with the guys (which sucks, and it pisses her off so fucking much, but there it is, this is what they have to work with) - hasn't had to say, hey, you probably know this, but: always watch your drink and make sure you trust the guys you're around, because sometimes people are assholes, especially if they're drinking, and you can always ask me for backup, I don't care if I'm hooking up with Brad Pitt or Angelina Jolie at the time (this one usually gets Jon a wide-eyed look from the especially new ones); it's important. And you should totally feel free to jack off in your bunk, guaranteed the guys will, it's not anything person. If you need tampons ask me or one of the merch girls, or just, you know. Hey. This is us. Girls on tour. Welcome to the club.
But Jon hadn't done that with Spencer, and she really wasn't sure why. Possibly it was a sense that Spencer didn't actually need that talk - Spencer had been looking after the rest of her band for years, or so it seemed like to Jon; Spencer didn't really drink (possibly that came under 'looking after Ryan' as it was), Spencer was uniquely terrifyingly competent in all areas of her life. Spencer probably jerked off with perfect aplomb and never took more than two minutes to get there and did so without sweating unattractively, too.
Jon examined that thought for a little bit longer, hand stilling on the control of the vibe, letting it buzz sort of futilely - and thank god, almost inaudibly - against her thigh. She was, she thought, not actually jealous like she would've expected to be, but kind of turned on.
Jon examined that thought a bit more and then let that blossom into imagining Spencer and her perfect technique; strong fingers that would slide easily into slick flesh, go straight to her clit and stroke and rub. Maybe Spencer would finger herself too, Jon thought, mirroring that image, sliding her index finger inside her cunt and stretching, trying to get her shoulder to relax so she didn't wind up pulling something, and trying desperately not to shift too much on the mattress.
Brendon is being helped into his bunk by someone - probably Spencer - and he's burbling loud and chatty, it's probably going to cover any noise Jon might make anyway.
Spencer would probably also touch her breasts, Jon thought, flashing briefly onto a memory of Spencer's tits pushing against the thin cotton of that stupid Journey t shirt she wears all the time, the faint bounce that suggested she wasn't wearing a bra, and also the peek of round nipple Jon had gotten one time when she'd looked up as Spencer was changing out of her stage corset and into a sheer lacy bra.
Jon freed one hand - the vibe was a better option than finger-fucking herself any day; only one of those was going to get her off, as good as they both felt - and slid it underneath her t-shirt, cupping her own breast, feeling the nipple pucker and pebble against her palm.
She hissed out a slow breath and then tried to calm down again, reminded herself to breathe in through her nose and felt her stomach lift as she did so.
The need to get off was growing again, developing tiny little needle-claws and making itself at home in the base of her belly, accompanied by a hot itch that seemed to be trying to consume her from toes to head, and so she moved the vibe back onto her pussy, letting it rock slowly on and off her clit, occasionally making forays down to her cunt, pressing just inside. The vibrations were shoving her faster, and harder, ever-closer to coming, and she was just biting her lip and trying to roll the peak of her nipple between thumb and forefinger, going for that extra tweak of sensation, giving up and yanking her shirt up around her neck so that the cool night air would hit her chest and add an extra dimension, when she felt her sidekick buzz against her knee where she'd kicked it. Talk about spoiling the fucking mood, she thought, and abruptly coming was not something that was about to happen, but something that might happen if she was lucky, and fuck that shit. Jon flicked the vibe off, dropped it onto the sheet and fished around for her phone. It was probably going to smell kind of sex-funky now, but whatever, it was her phone, she could do what she wanted.
The screen was flashing with a message received, and Jon opened it, to read Spencer saying "bden's in bed now; u all good tonite or want someone to fuck who isnt pwred by battries."
"fuck u" Jon sends back, in response, and then five seconds later, "no rly, totally want to fuck u, u ruined my alone time jerkface, better make it up 2 me."
Spencer climbs silently into Jon's bunk five minutes later and has her face between Jon's legs about fifteen seconds later.
"What, no hello?" Jon murmurs, very, very quietly.
"Shut up and take off your underwear," Spencer says, not all that quietly, Jesus.
Jon does.
* * *
[Ryan wears frilly underthings and everyone wants in Jon’s pants.]
"...and all we'd hear was 'Ryan, for fuckssake, your dick doesn't need that much room, put your knees together!'"
"It does!" Ryan put in indignantly, and rather belatedly.
"Whatever," Spencer said, "it would not have killed you to sit like a lady sometimes."
"Like a-?" Ryan sputtered, and then sputtered more as Brendon smugly added "don't contribute to propping up a gendered binary, Ryan," and Jon just knocked back another shot of Jack and laughed.
"Beside," Spencer said, with the tone of one about to score the winning shot, "it wasn't like you didn't have the underwear for it."
"Touche," Ryan said, and dipped his glass to clink it with Spencer's, drinking deeply, not-looking at Jon so casually that it had to be deliberate.
"Wait, what?" Jon said, catching up. "Really?" and there was a slow curl of delight through his words which was exactly what Spencer had been hoping to hear. "Why Ryan Ross, you are a man of many layers."
"Many of them lacy," Brendon said quietly into his rum and coke, and didn't flinch at all when Ryan kicked him, the pointy toe of his ridiculous shoes landing dangerously close to Brendon's balls.
Probably it was a deliberate choice, since Ryan had some fairly self-interested reasons to not damage Brendon's balls, but that being said Ryan was not always the most athletic of people and Spencer certainly wouldn't have wanted to bet on his aim.
Which was why Spencer was well over on the far side of the table, sharing a bottle with Jon.
The uncharitable observer might have added that he was snuggling with Jon, but that was both their normal physical proximity and not exactly something Jon was likely to protest ever, so Spencer figured that anyone watching and judging could go fuck themselves.
"So what prompted this trip down memory lane?" Jon asked, stealing a sip of Spencer's drink, his own apparently containing an inferior Jack-to-coke ratio.
"We were trying to remember the last time we had a band orgy," Ryan said easily, and watched as Jon spluttered and tried to pretend like he wasn't.
"Really," Jon choked out, and then cleared his throat, trying again. "I mean. Really. That's- interesting. I. What?"
"Well," Brendon said, "to be fair, it wasn't a full band orgy; Brent wasn't invited."
"Poor Brent," Spencer said sadly, "he really did miss out."
Jon's eyes couldn't have gotten any wider even if he had been blazed out of his skull, which he wasn't - Spencer had made sure to politely decline Jon's offer to smoke up this evening, and Jon wasn't much of a one for smoking alone. They wanted Jon mostly-sober and in his right mind, and not-unimportantly, functional.
Well, if he agreed, of course. If he didn't, they were all going to have to have a lot more to drink and probably some pot to follow, because it was going to become vitally important to scrub out the memory as soon as possible.
Spencer was quietly, cautiously confident that that wasn't going to happen, though. For once thing, Jon's foot was still rubbing idly over Spencer's calf, and while he'd frozen for a second at Ryan's blunt statement, he'd returned to his usual demeanour in short order.
"Why are you telling me this now?" Jon asked cautiously, a little like he maybe had an idea but he didn't want to make any assumptions.
"We kind of want to fuck you," Brendon said. "Like, a lot."
"Brendon!" Spencer hissed. "Those are not the words we discussed using!"
Brendon shrugged, and knocked back half his tumbler like it was a shot. "They're accurate," he defended himself, completely unrepentant.
"I. Wow," Jon said, and then, "it's kind of sweet that you thought you'd have to seduce me."
"Wait, really?" Spencer said, because this was even easier than he'd been expecting.
Jon shrugged, then, grinning. "I'm kind of easy, Spencer, I don't know if you've noticed."
"Well, we were hoping," Ryan said, a slow grin spreading over his features, and he plucked the glass out of Brendon's hand and set it down behind them, and leaned closer.
"You really want to have a foursome," Jon asked again, checking.
"Yup," Spencer said, and "yes please," Ryan added and "fuck yeah!" Brendon crowed, shoving his chair over so he was closer to Jon and giving him a near-lethal dose of the puppy-dog gaze that he'd been working on.
"Awesome," Jon said. "I am so there. Here. Whatever. Wait, here?" He looked around and then bit his lip. It was stupidly adorable. Spencer tried to drool discreetly.
"Well, we wanted to give you an easy escape if you said no," Ryan explained. "We figured booze and couches would work okay."
"I also put out for cupcakes and pizza," Jon said helpfully, and when had he laid his arm around the back of Spencer's chair?
Jon was sitting even closer, now, and his fingers were playing idly with the short hairs at the base of Spencer's neck. It was stupidly hot, and Spencer tried to remind himself that jumping Jon right this second wasn't in the plan. They really should talk about it a bit first.
"Mostly we were hoping that you'd say yes and then there's the part of the plan which involves Ryan and Brendon's king-size bed." Spencer said, ignoring the part of himself which was somewhat breathless.
"There's a plan?" Jon asked, grinning even bigger, and fuck, this was going to be awesome.
"There are practically blueprints," Ryan confessed. "Spencer likes planning."
"I like to be prepared," Spencer said, not too defensive, but still. If he didn't plan for things, who knew where they'd end up?
"Awesome," Jon said, possibly for the second or third time. He was looking from Spencer, to Ryan, to Brendon, and then back to Spencer, appearing uncertain for the first time.
"Uh, so. How do you guys...play this?"
"Well," Spencer said, "we haven't done it all that much?"
"We have," Brendon said smugly, and groped Ryan, right there at the table.
Ryan donned his patented long-suffering expression, which might have been more convincing if he hadn't been shifting subtly into Brendon's hands, leaning appreciatively close.
"We know," Jon and Spencer said in unison, and shared an eye-rolling look.
"It just didn't seem right to leave you out," Ryan said, "um, that is, we didn't want to do anything without you because we wanted you there, not because we have a fucked up idea about sharing or anything."
"But mostly Spencer really wants in your pants and said you were the deal-breaker," Brendon explained helpfully, and goddammit, Spencer knew he was blushing faintly.
"I didn't-" he tried, but it was no good; he really did want in Jon's pants; with or without the other two.
"Aww, that's so sweet," Jon said, and seriously, Spencer was going to smack him in a minute. "Why didn't you say something, Spence?"
"I did," Spencer gritted out, fucking Jon, why did he like him again? "You laughed at me and told me I'd had too much beer."
"You had had too much beer," Jon said reasonably. "And so had I, I would've come in my pants two seconds after seeing you naked."
Spencer blinked.
"You what?"
"No offense," Jon said, waving his hand blithely towards Ryan and Brendon, "I love you guys and everything, and I think it's going to be stupidly hot to fuck around with you on special occasions, but I'd kind of like to fuck Spencer on a regular basis, I just didn't want to screw up the band. Also I guess we could, like, go on dates and whatever."
"Sounds great to me," Brendon said, leaning back in his chair. "Really, that's so convenient. Awesome."
"Hey!" Spencer objected. "Don't I actually get a say?"
"Jon said he wanted to be your boyfriend and also have a foursome," Ryan explained helpfully. "I didn't really see anything in that which contradicted your plan."
"I," Spencer started, because that was true, but this was. Not in the plan? What was his problem, he could totally be having sex right now. The league of teenage dudes was probably about to send a representative to demand his membership card back.
"No," Jon said earnestly, and whoa, his hand was on Spencer's thigh now, petting. Spencer could definitely get used to this. "You wanted to, like, woo me. I get it. I totally would do the same."
"That's why you keep bringing me coffee!" Spencer said, enlightened.
"The mating ritual of a Jon Walker," Brendon said thoughtfully. "Very nice."
"Okay, but we're all going to have sex, right?" Ryan said, and Jon and Spencer shared another look; Spencer thought not just 'oh, this is going to work', but also 'oh, this is going to be so good'.
"In a minute," Spencer said. "I just have to do one thing first."
"What?" Ryan asked, impatient, and Spencer didn't need to look to know he was tapping his foot restlessly under the table, as fidgety as Brendon but just better at hiding it.
"Me," Jon said, and leaned the crucial inch closer to bring his face in kissing distance.
Spencer cupped Jon's face in his palms and leaned in. It started as just a light brush of their mouths; lip-to-lip, breathing each other in, but Jon made this awesome little growl-kind-of noise and pushed abruptly closer, and the kiss got a lot dirtier, faster.
Spencer actually found himself gasping, Jon's tongue in his mouth and his hand scrunched up in his t-shirt, holding him close, and shit, this was amazing.
"Oh shit, that's hot," he heard Ryan say, from some distance off.
"We're not making it to the bed, are we?" Brendon asked, probably pouting.
Spencer pulled back, just a fraction, just for a moment, forcing himself to open his eyes and pretend to be a calm, rational adult.
"Can we," he said, and then started over. "Do you want to do this now, or do you want to go back to our room and just try this with two of us first?"
Jon's eyes looked kind of glazed, and he was licking his lips while staring at Spencer's mouth, and Spencer wasn't entirely sure how much of that sentence had actually penetrated.
"It's just," Spencer said, "Ryan and Brendon are great in bed and all, but I'm sort of worried they'll set a bar I can't reach on my own later. Also, if this is over embarrassingly quickly then I don't want any witnesses."
"Hey!" Brendon objected. "We can be sensitive to your weaknesses!"
"Brendon, you'll mock me in public inappropriately about it in less than a week," Spencer says, and Brendon pauses a second, and then nods agreement with the truth of that statement.
"Also," Spencer said, bringing out his winning argument, "I want you to myself, first."
Jon's eyes were boring into his, and Spencer could read his expression as well as he could Ryan or Brendon's by now, so it was no surprise to him when Jon said "Yes," and stood up, curling his hand around Spencer's biceps to tug him to his feet.
"Bye guys," Jon said, dragging Spencer purposefully to the door.
"Oh god," he could hear Ryan saying mournfully as they left, and about as Jon started working on Spencer's belt, multi-tasking their way down the hall, "we're never going to get that foursome. I don't think they'll be leaving the bedroom for like a week."
"Yeah we will," Spencer yelled back, "we're going to want to eat! There better be waffles in the morning, Brendon, you promised!"
"Those waffles were dependant on me getting laid!" Brendon yelled back, and then Jon slammed the bedroom door and shoved Spencer up against it, and pointing out that Ryan and his stupidly enormous dick were still there was suddenly the very last thing on Spencer's mind.
* * *
The first time they get past making out, Tennessee finds out the down side to Z's polished flower child look.
"Z," she says, "you have to be a lot more naked for this to work." And "oh my lord, how many buttons does this dress have?" and "Oops," because whatever the number, it's now one less.
Z's underthings are as modern as her dress is not, though, and Tennessee unsnaps the sheer polka-dotted bra easily, lets her fingers linger at the hem of the matching pants.
"Mmm," Z gasps, and helps Tennessee shed her own with more grace, and more importantly, more speed.
"I was expecting a suspender belt and corsetry," Tennessee confesses, tracing her fingertips featherlight over the tips of Z's nipples, almost an afterthought rather than teasing, like she's testing something out. "Or maybe a girdle."
Z gasps out a laugh, and ducks her head down to rest it against Tennessee's shoulder, nuzzling her soft skin. "A girdle? Really, Tenn, I don't think so."
"It would go with your look," Tennessee argues, and rubs her thumb over Z's belly, stroking firmly along the jut of her hip.
"It would show right through!" Z protests, and bites her lip as Tennessee's hand continues inexorably lower, her fingers scritching through the hair between her legs, finding slick flesh and exploring in delicate sweeping touches that make Z shiver all over.
"Oh my lord," Tennessee says again, "you're so, I mean, you are so wet, Z, I could, I could just fuck you right now."
"I am never going to be able to hear you say ‘oh my lord’ again without having filthy thoughts," Z replies, and then chokes in a hasty breath, swallowing the rest of her comment as Tennessee does her best to suit action to words and slides two fingers quick and easy into Z's cunt, crooking them for a little bit of a stretch, but mostly focusing on pushing in and out, fingering her rhythmically.
"I wish we had some toys," Tennessee says, and it's not that Z had expected her to be a particularly vanilla person, nor that Tennesse doesn't come out with some outright filthy comments even when they're not having sex, but the contrast between that matter-of-fact-ness and Tennessee's prim accent... it's somewhat mind-blowing.
'What do you like?" Z manages to ask, trying not to grind down into Tennessee's fingers too obviously. She has a reputation to maintain. Well, possibly.
"I have this strap-on," Tennesee says with enthusiasm, sliding her fingers out of Z (who protests with a little put-out moan) in order to demonstrate approximate size with her hands held yea-distance apart, "with a vibe in each end. It's a little thick, but I think you could take it."
Z imagines that for a second, imagines wrapping her legs around Tennessee's waist and riding her, while batteries make a silicon dick buzz-buzz-buzz against her g-spot and Tennessee's clit, and bites her lip so hard that for a second she's worried she might have actually drawn blood.
"That might be hot," she says, cautious still.
"Liar," Tennessee laughs, pushing Z onto her back and crawling down her body. "Your eyes went all big and want-y as soon as I mentioned it."
"Want-y?" Z tries to criticise, but Tennessee is fairly committed, apparently, to making a headstart on getting Tennessee off, by virtue of sticking her tongue into Z's pussy and applying a lot of pressure where it does best, and Z is far too close to coming far too soon to be able to do anything like keep her composure or think intelligent thoughts. The fact that Tennessee's bare breasts are rubbing against the tops of her thighs isn't helping; Z's mouth is practically watering at the sheer thought of getting her hands on her.
She gives a little moue of displeasure when she realised Tennessee is fingering herself while she eats Z out; but if she was interested in being fair (which she's not; Z is interesting in fucking Tennessee into next century), Z might actually be forced to admit that she's too far gone to do anything for Tenn right now as it is, and also that she's tried sixty-nining before and it ended badly for all concerned.
"You better be ready to go again after you get me off," she warns anyway though, because seriously, she can see Tennessee's fingers are sticky and wet. She’s getting even hotter herself as she watches how fast Teneessee is moving her hand, the way she's rubbing almost viciously at her clit, and her mouth is ruthless on Z's, sucking and licking and adding the very occasional barest scrape of her teeth, a shock which sends a shudder through Z's entire body every time.
"Always," Tennessee says with a grin, "take more than you to wear me out."
"I will take that bet," Z says determinedly, and then arches and ripples under Tennessee's mouth as she comes and comes and comes.
* * *
[I forget if this was going to be a V relationship - I think probably? - but mostly it just reads kind of clumsy. Needed more work, for sure.]
Jon hit on Spencer about zero point five minutes after they met for the second time.
The first time he was all business, friendly and efficient; cheerfully helping Ryan with his colossal ineptness, and joking around with Brendon, who had been the one to find him and coo over him and bring him home. The friendly puppy analogy had a lot going for it, actually, because the second time Spencer met Jon, he was doing his level best to hump Spencer's leg. On the metaphorical level, thankfully - Spencer isn't sure he could actually ever want to have sex with someone who did that literally, or at least did that in front of other people and without encouragement - but still, it was some serious flirting.
(If you didn't kiss someone but you let them put their hands down your pants that was still just flirting, right? It wasn't like Spencer had gotten naked or anything.)
Jon had been charming and direct and hadn't given Spencer a hard time about the fact he was drinking Jack-and-coke, hold the Jack; Jon had sat right down in Spencer's lap and made eye contact and wiggled suggestively and RSVP'd promptly to every invitation Spencer had then extended to him. He'd clasped his hand in Spencer's and taken him into a dimly lit room behind the green room and given Spencer a series of hickeys marching along his collar and a handjob besides.
"Get me later," Jon had said, cheerful and direct when Spencer made feeble, post-coital motions towards Jon's waistband. Jon's jeans were loose and starting to slouch down his hips - direct contrast to basically everyone else Spencer knew, and in theory it should have made it a lot easier to get into his pants - but Spencer was a little high on endorphins and the vague sensation he probably shouldn't be hooking up with random guys he was on tour with. He had a strong feeling he'd be willing to do it again anyway, and it was just difficult, frankly.
"Are you sure?" Spencer had asked, biting his lip, dubious. Maybe Jon was having some kind of gay panic? Except usually that was the guy who was getting jerked off or blown, and not the one actually doing it. He was sure Jon was hard, he didn't know anyone their age who wouldn't be, under the circumstances.
Jon leaned in and gave Spencer a surprisingly platonic hug. "Totally. You look beat; go get some sleep or something and we can do this again sometime. Er, if you want."
"Oh yes," Spencer said, without thinking, and probably he shouldn't have been so eager, like it would give away just how not often he'd done this, but Jon was scruffy and good with his hands and sweet and funny. Jon was hot. So yeah, Spencer was definitely on board with hitting that again. and he was probably even going to want to kiss him next time. Spencer was kind of weird about kissing.
"Awesome," Jon had said, and then he'd strolled off as casually as if they'd been holed up together sneaking a smoke and not flirting in dimly-lit backstage rooms.
Okay, Spencer had to admit, straightening up, and newly aware of how his underwear was kind of sticking to him in the worst way. Having sex in dimly-lit backstage rooms.
He saw Jon in passing a couple times the next day, but they didn't hook up again until the end of the week, when they were about to hit a three day break from actual shows, and they had a whole glorious day in a hotel to recover from the long-ass drive across the prairies they'd just completed. Jon somehow - Spencer figured later it was his magical powers of persuasion coupled with an understanding beyond his years of how touring worked and how to effectively suck up to the tour manager - got a room to himself, and Spencer lasted a whole two hours at the room party the Academy were throwing before Jon talked him out of there and into an epic makeout session that took them through at least half of a Real World marathon on the shitty in-room cable.
"This is so not exactly setting the mood," Spencer said, surfacing from Jon's mouth briefly, just in time to see a blonde with improbable breasts do something unscripted which involved a lot of bleeping and a censor box.
Jon looked up, and brushed his bangs back out of his eyes. "What, you don't find this a turn-on?" He stopped to think for a second, eyes focusing on the TV. "Shit, why did I expect there to be actual music on MTV anyway, I should know better by now. On reflection, kinda glad you don't find that a turn-on."
Jon rolled him over, fished around for the remote and waved it vaguely over his shoulder till the TV shut off, and then set back to work on getting Spencer hot and flustered.
Spencer figured it was only fair play if he take advantage of the silence to talk Jon out of his pants.
This extremely agreeable state of affairs continued across three states and for a good solid week, and what Spencer was losing in sleep he was making up in bounds with good humour, endorphins and fantastically jealous and/or sexually frustrated bandmates. Jon seemed pretty happy as well, which was why it came as even more of a shock when Spencer - sitting leant back against the wall of the bus, Jon sitting between his spread legs playing poker with Tom and Ryan and Brendon and the Butcher, occasionally pausing to drag Spencer's questing hand back up from where it was playing with his waistband - heard the phrase "my girlfriend" come out of Jon's mouth.
"Excuse me?" he asked, and fuck, why did he always default to polite? His mom would be really pleased with him except it was so embarrassing and also kind of disatisfying to not actually start cussing until you remembered to do so.
"Cassie," Jon repeated, running his palm up Spencer's thigh, "my girlfriend."
"I think we need to talk," Spencer said grimly, scrambling to his feet.
"Oh," Jon said, twisting around and looking up, and then "oh, Spencer, shit, you didn't-"
"Busted," Tom grinned, sing-song, but Ryan just glared and the other two looked uncertain and awkward.
"I'll be in my bunk," Spencer said shortly and spun on his heel, taking off.
"You know," Tom said to nobody in particular, "normally when he says that it's implying someone's getting lucky. Kinda don't think you will be right now, Jonny," and it's Jon's turn to look cranky, throwing his hand of cards down with unnecessary force.
"Not funny, Tom," Jon had said, and then he'd gone after Spencer, cursing himself for not actually having gotten around to sitting him down to explain yet. He'd meant to, he really had, he just kept getting distracted. Spencer was all... hot and frequently naked and basically overall distracting. It made things hard.
And by things Jon usually meant his dick.
But really, he was meant to be better than this, and he certainly knew better. "Fuck," he said again, and went to try and explain things to Spencer, who was hopefully going to be as amenable as Jon had thought he would be to start with, and was hopefully also going to continue to let Jon see him naked.
* * *
It actually took some fast talking - mostly of the "oh my god, Spencer, don't make me yell through the curtain at you, we're not a fucking lifetime movie" type - for Jon to actually get Spencer communicating again.
Jon shoved Spencer's feet back into the corridor and sat next to him, just their shoulders touching. He knew full goddamn well they should've had this conversation at least a week ago, whenever they'd crossed the invisible line from "hooking up casually" into "having regular sex and also cuddling".
"This is my fault," Jon started carefully, trying not to be discouraged by the fact that Spencer was still not actually making eye contact. Jon was so not doing a good job of this at all.
"I'm-," Spence said, and then he sighed, slumping back against the wall. "I'm really not okay with being the other woman. The other guy. Whatever. I didn't realise you had a girlfriend. Sorry, Jon, I just can't."
Jon bit his lip. This was so much easier in, like, theory. Also, when Cassie did the talking for him. Maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to try this on the road after all. But he really, really liked Spencer. Fuck.
"My girlfriend," Jon said, slightly encouraged by the fact that Spencer looked kind of sick and a little jealous at the words, "is called Cassie. She's a wonderful lady, and I love her a lot. She also lives with her girlfriend and our cats in Chicago. I promise you, I am not cheating on her with you."
"She lives with- what?" Spencer asked, forgetting to sulk and staring at Jon. "Okay, you're gonna have to start over."
Jon grinned. While it was entirely possible Spencer wasn't actually going to be down with sharing him with another woman, he was at least going to listen. And Jon was going to lay odds on Spencer being... open-minded enough to give it a try, at least.
"Cassie and I have an agreement," Jon said. "Which essentially means that so long as we're honest with each other, we can see other people as well."
"So you have like an open relationship?" Spencer asked, having helpless flashbacks to about a hundred episodes of Jerry, Sally Jessie, Dr Phil and Oprah.
"Not exactly," Jon corrected. "We're polyamorous. Which means that sometimes she has another boyfriend, and sometimes she hooks up with girls-" "Oh, man, hot," Spencer interrupted, and Jon just nodded. "And," Jon went on, "it means that if I call her and say that I've been hooking up with this guy I like a lot, and I'd kind of like him to be my boyfriend, she just says 'okay, he better treat you right, have fun'. And then we have phone sex."
Spencer narrowed his eyes at Jon. He had a funny feeling that wasn't exactly how that phone call might have gone, but he was also fairly certain Jon wasn't lying about the phone sex. Fucking Jon, how was he so good at getting laid? He was only like two years older than Spencer, it shouldn't be that much easier for him.
"You said honest with each other," Spencer said, grasping for the straw which seemed most obvious to him.
Jon made a face. "Okay, she said to be careful and use protection and that I should be careful with you because you probably didn't know what you were doing-" "hey!" Spencer objected. "-in a poly relationship," Jon continued, "and that I should front up to you about all that. Um. Which I'm doing?"
"Nice to see you trying so hard to get that done right away," Spencer mutters, but then if there's anything he's learned by now, it's that anything Jon can procrastinate on, especially if it's uncomfortable or awkward, he is by god going to. Sometimes it's kind of cute, in a frustrating way; other times it just makes Spencer want to smack him. He's definitely old enough to know better.
"I... haven't done this much," Jon admitted, swinging his feet and wincing as he overcorrects and kicks the drawers under Spencer's bunk with a dull thud. "Like, normally Cassie does most of the negotiating and then I say 'Yeah, I'm totally cool with this' - which I am! - and then we, you know. Have sex. This part is new."
"You'll forgive me if I'm not all that sympathetic," Spencer said, still slightly grouchy. "You should have told me."
"Yeah, I should," Jon admitted. "I really am sorry. I just. I wasn't sure, at first. If you were actually as awesome as you seemed. And then I just kept getting distracted by how hot you are." Jon looked up through his eyelashes to see how Spencer took that.
Spencer was still giving him a look of deepest suspicion. "So you're saying that it's my fault that you didn't get around to telling me about your girlfriend."
"Yes- no?" Jon tried. "I'm really bad at this," he said after a pause.
Spencer snorted. "Yeah, no kidding."
"Fuck, Spencer," Jon said, a little desperate, and blunter now with it. "I really, really like you. But I love Cassie, too, and I want to be with both of you."
"I'm going to have to think about this," Spencer said slowly. "Because it just sounds like you're being greedy, to be honest."
"It's not," Jon said, floundering. He really didn't know how to explain this properly. "It's not about not wanting to choose when I should, or whatever, it's just. We don't need to choose. Not if you think you can handle that. I feel like I'm so much more balanced, being able to love more than one person. It's not, like, something people talk about a lot, but a lot of people do it. Really. There's like. Books. And websites. I can show you some, if you're curious?"
"I've seen porn," Spencer said, rolling his eyes again, and Jon flinched, because that wasn't it, not at all, and that did actually hurt.
"It's not about sex," he said sharply. "Or, it can be, but it's not just about sex. If I just wanted to fuck you we'd never have needed to have this conversation."
He could feel Spencer staring at him, but he had no idea what he was thinking, now. Spencer was fairly opaque at the best of times, and right now he was doing inscrutable with all his might.
"So..." Spencer said slowly, "you want to keep fucking me, but you also want to be, like. Boyfriends?"
Despite himself, he came off sounding younger and much less certain than Jon thought he would have liked.
"Yeah," Jon said quietly. "I've fooled around with a few guys before, I've known I was bi for years, but Cassie was- I haven't had anything serious with anyone else yet. But I want to try with you."
"You want. You want us to be boyfriends?" Spencer repeated, clearly checking.
"If you want," Jon said, and then corrected. "If you're okay with that. You have to be okay with it, Spence, you have to be really, really okay with it, because otherwise it's not going to work. I've seen this end really fucking badly," he doesn't explain, but Spencer can see there's a story there, hiding behind his eyes, "and I don't want to do that to you. If it's not what you want, then I'd rather just break up now and try to be friends later."
Spencer opened his mouth to say something - anything, he wasn't really sure what, this was kind of a flood of new and unexpected information regardless - and Jon shook his head, standing up again.
"Don't answer right now," he said, giving Spencer a sympathetic look. "Think about it first. Think about what you, you know, want. And everything. Talk to Ryan or something, if you want."
"Okay," Spencer said, obscurely feeling like he should stand as well, like he needed to be on a level with Jon right now. "But- can I ask you something?"
Jon paused, his hand curling around the edge of the bunk as he shifted his weight, looking consideringly at Spencer. He didn't even look at the door.
"Sure," he said. "Anything. You can, like, text me, too, if you think of something later that you need to ask. If we do this, there's going to be a fucktonne of talking that goes along with it anyway."
"Great," Spencer said, making a face. He liked relationship talks about as much as the next guy, which... made the prospect of having Jon - sharing Jon - somewhat less attractive. Probably he should feel bad about that, but it was the truth.
"How did you-? If you haven't done this part before, how'd you wind up like this? I mean, in this situation," he asked.
Jon rocked back on his heels a bit, face scrunching up as he thought about how to answer that.
"I've been with Cassie since high school," he said. "And I think she knew I also liked guys longer than I did-," "You certainly strike me as the most self-aware guy on the block," Spencer interrupted. "-shut up, we can't all be best friends with Ryan Ross," Jon retorted, before going back to his story.
"And one night we got kind of drunk and ended up confessing that we both wanted to sleep with- a mutual friend." "Tom," Spencer said confidently, because he had eyes. "Yeah," Jon admitted, "but that part isn't really my story to tell, so. Cassie said she didn't mind if I hooked up with him - or anyone else I liked, on the road, so long as I was safe and told her about it. And she asked me if I would be okay with her doing the same." Jon shrugged, and Spencer marvelled at how he could talk about this, like it was something normal, like it was ordinary. "And I thought about it some more and realised that, yeah, I was actually okay with that. It's not that I don't get jealous, sometimes," he hastened to add. "But I can admit to it, and it's usually fucking irrational, anyway."
"And so here you are," Spencer said, trying to act cool and adult and totally mature about this, now. If Jon could do it, so could he.
"Well, here after a lot of phone calls and emails and packages from Amazon that I hope my mom never opens, sure," Jon said. "I think Cassie knew more about what she wanted then than I did. Her reading lists have always been, hrm, eclectic? I don't think it was as much of a shock to her, that she wanted to live this way."
"Do your parents know?" Spencer asks, thinking about how he's not even sure he'd be able to tell his family he likes guys right now, extrapolates out to how much more difficult it would have to be to introduce your family to not one but two or more people. Jesus.
Jon nodded, looking rueful. "They accept it. They don't really understand, mostly, and sometimes people are assholes, but my folks are pretty good. We trained 'em well." His gaze narrowed onto Spencer, speculative. "My mom would really like you."
"Oh god," Spencer said weakly. It was probably true, though. Moms loved him. He wasn't sure why, but it probably had something to do with being adorable and not being sexy. Stupid fucking -- genetics. Something.
"Not the same way I like you," Jon added, a slow grin creeping across his face.
Spencer was pretty sure he looked as horrified as he felt.
"You are a dick," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to glare. He was definitely getting better at the glaring thing.
"And yet, you would totally do me," Jon said, smug.
"Don't remind me," Spencer groaned, and narrowed his eyes again. "Is there- anything else you need to tell me about? Wife in North Dakota? Pool boys in LA? Some sick new kinky furry fantasy you want to try?"
It was Jon's turn to make a face then. "God, Pete is a bad influence," he said, and then leaned in to press a quick kiss to Spencer's mouth. "No, that's it. Now think about it for a bit, and get back to me. If you can't- if you don't think you can do this, that's totally fine. It's not for everyone, and I'm not gonna, like, give you shit about it if you can't do it."
"Thanks?" Spencer ventured, feeling uncertain again.
"Seriously, think about it." Jon said, wavering on the doorstep, clearly a guy who didn't actually want to leave.
"Or," Spencer said, knowing it was a bad idea anyway and choosing to not care. "You could stay here and give me an incentive."
"Really," Jon said, drifting a step closer, almost into grabbing range.
"I think better after I come," Spencer said quite seriously, trying to look fuckable and endearing and not nervous or like he knew how stupid he probably sounded.
"Spencer," Jon said, grinning again, "you fall the fuck asleep after you come. I should know, you drool on my pillow half the time. And then I have to get myself off."
"Hey!" Spencer replied indignantly, "that is not true. I am always good for a handjob!"
"Oh my god, just shut up and fuck already," Brendon yelled from the front lounge and oops, maybe Spencer had not been using his inside voice.
"I think Brendon's pissed," Jon stage-whispered, scooting back to sit beside Spencer, his hand clasped with Spencer's.
"I think Brendon's sexually frustrated," Spencer said, pitching that one to carry, and there was a muffled crunch in response that neither of them had any difficulty in diagnosing as a red bull can being violently introduced to the trash.
"Want to make him jealous?" Jon asked, sliding his hand up Spencer's thigh, and oh yeah, Spencer really, really did.
"Yes," he said, just in case Jon hadn't got that memo, and Jon circled his fingers lightly around Spencer's dick, stroking him through his jeans, and then pulled away, sitting back with an expression of reluctance.
"You really do need to think this over," Jon said, much more quietly this time, and he was right and it sucked. Spencer firmly told his dick to stand down, and bit at his thumbnail, worrying the corner of it.
"Yeah, okay," he said finally. "I'll think. But you really should go now, before I am compelled to jump you and traumatise Brendon's virgin eyes all the more."
"Fuck you," Brendon yelled, suddenly closer, "for the ten millionth time, I am not a virgin."
"Anymore," Jon said quietly, and shook his head when Spencer gave him a raised-eyebrow look; snickering, although not meanly. "I'll tell you later," he promised quietly, and then squeezed Spencer's hand one last time before letting himself out of the bus.
Brendon waited a whole two and a half minutes before flinging himself through the dividing door and onto Spencer's bunk beside him. He politely ignored the fact Spencer was still clearly hard, and gave him a surprisingly firm bro-like punch to the biceps.
"I really do believe you two crazy kids will figure it out," he said solemnly, and Spencer had to roll his eyes again.
"Brendon, you're like three months older, stop pretending to be eighty."
"Hey, just because I am supportive of your wacky gay lifestyle," Brendon said, shrugging a 'whaddaya gonna do'.
"It's not wacky," Spencer said, a trifle defensive.
"It's really gay though," Brendon replied almost instantly, and Spencer had to give him that one. "Like, seriously Sir Ian McKellen level gay. Sometimes I'm not sure whether I should be turned on or trying to blind myself."
"Brendon," Spencer said, after a second. "I'm pretty sure that was tmi."
"Probably," Brendon said cheerfully, and then he punched Spencer in the shoulder again and bounced to his feet. "Carry on, soldier!" he admonished him, and then wandered off again.
"God it's creepy when you do that," Spencer said to his back, and then swung his feet up into his bunk, lying back to think, staring sightlessly at Brent's bunk above his. He really did need to think about this.
Because as much as he liked Jon, and as much fun as this was... was there anything more than just a convenient tour hook-up going on, and if so, could he actually handle seeing Jon with someone else? Could he live with that, or even find someone else himself, if Jon agreed and they gave it a shot and it worked?
Spencer was pretty sure there were a ton of people who'd kill to have his problems, but even so, he really didn't know what to do with this one. All he was sure of was that he wasn't ready to let go of Jon yet.
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