Fic -- Let Me Save You, Hold this Rope -- Brendon/Spencer -- NC-17
Title: Let Me Save You, Hold this Rope
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer
Word Count: 5,000
Summary: Brendon likes pain, Spencer likes causing pain, and they try to figure things out.
Warnings: BDSM both enacted and discussed, mentions of a prior non-consensual situation
Notes: This will probably end up being a 'verse, but I'm still figuring it all out in my own head, too.
AO3 link: right here
Spencer's lounging on his bed, back flat against the headboard, book in his hands. He's reading it a little, but Brendon's there, snuggled into the V of Spencer's legs, leaning against Spencer's chest as he watches TV on a lazy Tuesday afternoon. Spencer reads a few pages, then looks up when Brendon laughs. Its an episode of South Park they've both seen more than once.
Spencer smiles and presses his face to the warm skin of Brendon's neck, and Brendon tenses. Brendon tenses and holds his breath and his fingers dig into the underside of Spencer's thigh.
Spencer says, "What?"
Brendon lets out a shaky laugh and starts to relax. He shakes his head, "Nothing. Just."
"Just?"
"I thought you were going to bite me," Brendon admits.
Spencer says, "Oh." He hadn't been thinking about it, but now he does. He thinks about sinking his teeth into the flesh of Brendon's shoulder, thinks of the sound Brendon would make, the cut-off protest, the way his entire body would fight against the pain and the way he would relax, suddenly, as he gave himself over to it.
Brendon laughs again, nervously, and starts to sit up.
Spencer drops his book and places his hand flat across Brendon's chest, holding him there. "I, um, I'll always tell you first. Before I hurt you."
Brendon nods.
"Do you want me to hurt you right now?"
That gets another shaky, nervous laugh. Brendon squirms against him, rubbing against where Spencer's starting to get hard. "Maybe," he says, and he sounds uncertain.
Brendon is uncharacteristically shy when it comes to talking about what kinds of pain he wants. "I just want you to hurt me," he'll say whenever Spencer asks.
And Spencer says, "I know, but I want to know how you want me to hurt you."
And Brendon will just usually say, "I don't care. However you want."
So Spencer hurts him, and Brendon gets off on the pain, and Spencer gets off on inflicting it.
It's still new, this thing they've started. The sex isn't new, not really. They've been making out off and on since they were in high school but it was never a big deal. Jerking each other off on tour hadn't been a big deal, either, just something they did sometimes, just a tension release. And when they'd decided to share a house, well, being fuck buddies worked well for both of them.
They'd both been drunk the night it had turned serious, the night Brendon had said, "Hurt me. Please, please, Spence, I need you to hurt me, come on," and Spencer had.
He's terrified thinking about that night, how out of control they both were, and the memories always turn him on.
He slides his hand into Brendon's sweatpants and Brendon's getting hard, too. He jerks him off slowly, squeezes his cock and whispers, "Tell me what you want me to do to you."
Brendon drops his head back onto Spencer's shoulder and says. "Just. Whatever you want. Bite me. All over, I want to feel it all over."
Spencer says, "Take your clothes off," and goes to shut the door. Bogart's probably napping in a beam of sunlight somewhere, but Spencer doesn't want him coming in and jumping up onto the bed while he and Brendon play.
Brendon tugs his clothes off quickly and kicks the covers down and stretches out on his back. He says, "Is this okay? How do you want me?"
Spencer says, "This is fine." He's never bitten anybody before, not really. He's given girlfriends hickeys, had even given Brendon a hickey or two back in high school when they made out any time they were bored. He's scraped his teeth over nipples and clits and cocks, but he's never actually bitten down with the intention of causing pain. The thought of it makes him shaky and a little giddy.
He kisses his way across Brendon's stomach, trails his tongue along one of the sharp lines angling up from Brendon's pelvis. He nips playfully at Brendon's hipbone, then again just below his navel. He kisses his way up and when his lip catches against Brendon's skin, he figures it's as good a spot as any. He licks the skin, first, parts his lips and feels Brendon's muscles tense in anticipation. He digs his teeth in, then, not even really biting at first, just getting a feel for Brendon's skin. He tightens his grip little by little, until Brendon gasps, and then he just holds. He keeps the pressure firm, intense, but he doesn't move, he just waits.
Brendon whimpers and he grabs a hold of Spencer's arm, but he doesn't try to pull him away.
Slowly, Spencer bites down harder. He listens to Brendon groan, feels his deep breaths.
Brendon says, "Oh, fuck," in a choked voice.
Spencer bites a little harder, runs his tongue over the skin between his teeth. He bites down a little bit harder, then a little bit harder still. Brendon makes a soft, desperate noise in the back of his throat. Spencer increases the pressure just a little bit more, then he lets go.
When he pulls back, he watches Brendon's skin move back into place, watches as the oval of teeth marks he'd just left turn from white to pink to red. The mark's just to the upper left of Brendon's navel, and it looks amazing. Spencer wonders if it's going to bruise. He runs his fingers over it and Brendon makes his pleasure-pain noise.
"Think it's going to bruise?" Spencer asks.
Brendon props himself up on his elbows and looks at it. He says, "I hope so. Fuck, Spence, that's hot."
"I want to mark you all over," Spencer tells him. "That okay?"
Brendon falls back onto the mattress and says, "Yeah."
He bites gently across Brendon's belly, then harder whenever the urge strikes. It doesn't take long, only a couple of minutes before the voice in his head starts up. Hurt him, it says, really hurt him. Make him cry. Make him scream. Spencer can feel his heart pounding in his chest and his cock bobbing hard between his legs, but he doesn't reach down to touch it. He bites down one of Brendon's thighs, then back up again, groaning with how good it is every time Brendon writhes and cries out.
It starts to feel out of his control, soon, like he's on autopilot, like he could do this forever. Nothing exists outside of the bed. The whole world is just Brendon and the feel of his skin beneath Spencer's hands and between his teeth. He nips and kisses and licks and bites, bites again, bites hard, nips and kisses and nips his way up to Brendon's mouth.
There are tears in Brendon's eyes, and Spencer says, "You okay? You want me to stop?"
"No," Brendon says, and as he blinks, the tears fall. "Keep going. Please."
Spencer bites harder, with more urgency and desperation than before. It's like he needs to do it, like if he can't make Brendon cry even harder, can't make him gasp and moan, then he doesn't want to do anything at all. The bites to Brendon's stomach are brutal, and he feels Brendon shaking beneath him. He runs his teeth along Brendon's shaft, and Brendon shudders and let out a frightened moan, but he doesn't pull away and he doesn't tell Spencer to stop.
He thinks about biting Brendon's cock, but he doesn't. Instead he bites hard into the soft flesh of Brendon's inner thigh, slowly increasing the pressure. Brendon's responding differently than he had been, is no longer tensing and resisting, has started going pliant and open with each bite. He slides his tongue over Brendon's skin, tight between his teeth, and he listens to the soft, helpless noises Brendon's making.
As he relaxes his bite, Brendon laughs. It had thrown Spencer off the first time, made him think he'd done something stupid. But Brendon just laughs when it's good, starts to get giggly as he relaxes into the pain.
He bites his way up Brendon's leg, bites over his hip, sucks bruises along Brendon's ribs. He kisses and bites his way across Brendon's chest, digs his teeth hard into the angle between Brendon's shoulder and his neck.
Then he kisses Brendon's mouth and Brendon barely kisses back. When he leans up, he can see that Brendon's pupils are dilated and his gaze seems far away.
"Hey," Spencer says softly, running his fingers through Brendon's hair. "Hey, you all right?"
Brendon opens his mouth a couple of times like he's going to speak, but he never does. He nods, though, looks up at Spencer with his wide dark eyes and nods once.
It's only happened once before, Brendon going so passive and nonverbal. He'd said it was okay, after, had told Spencer that it felt like being high, but Spencer's not sure if he should stop or just keep going.
"You want me to stop?"
Brendon shakes his head, tips his head back and arches his neck like he's inviting Spencer to bite him there. Spencer does. Spencer bites along Brendon's collarbone, bites his shoulder, sinks his teeth hard into the flesh of Brendon's bicep, really letting his jaw tighten.
Brendon gasps and comes, moaning softly, body shuddering.
Spencer shoves his hand between his legs and he's coming with the first touch, Brendon's flesh between his teeth, Brendon's soft moans of pleasure in his ears.
He kisses Brendon again, kisses him over and over again, doesn't have words for how beautiful Brendon is or how lucky Spencer is to get to touch him the way he does.
After a few minutes, Spencer says, "Come on, let's change beds. We wrecked the sheets."
Brendon doesn't sit up on his own, but when Spencer tugs gently on his arm, he sits up and blinks groggily. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed but doesn't stand until Spencer slides an arm around his shoulders and urges him up.
Spencer pauses in the bathroom on their way, leans Brendon against the counter and looks for a washcloth to dampen and wipe Brendon's skin down with. As soon as he turns, though, Brendon climbs into the tub and sits at the far end. He hunches his shoulders in like he's cold, but he doesn't start the water.
Spencer kneels next to the tub. "You want a bath?" he asks softly.
Brendon nods.
He strokes Brendon's hair, then says, "Pull your feet back a little more while I get the temperature right."
It's strange how protective he feels of Brendon afterwards, how Brendon looks to Spencer to care for him. Like Spencer's not the one who just hurt him. Like Spencer's not the reason he's mute and trembling.
Spencer runs the water and adjusts the knob until it's at a temperature he likes. Then he turns it up just a little bit because Brendon likes it hotter and adds a little of his shower gel, lightly scented with sandalwood. He soaps up Brendon's chest and his arms, slides his hands beneath the water to rub the washcloth gently over Brendon's cock and down his thighs. He keeps every touch slow and tender, leans over the edge of the tub periodically to kiss Brendon's cheek and his temple, his bare shoulder and his mouth.
He dries Brendon off, after, wraps him in a big towel and leads him to his own bed. Once Brendon's under the covers, Spencer turns to go and Brendon reaches out to grab his hand.
"I'm coming back," Spencer tells him. "I'm just going to get you some water."
Brendon shakes his head. He says, "Please."
Spencer kisses him and says, "You're all right here. You just close your eyes and I'll be back before you know it."
Brendon takes a deep breath, then another. His eyes get shiny and he opens his mouth, but no other words come out.
"Brendon, listen to me. I know it's hard, but really listen to me. I'm not leaving you here. I'm going to get you water and I'll be right back. I won't even be gone a minute."
Brendon takes another deep breath, but he looks less like he's going to cry.
Spencer takes the stairs two at a time, grabs two bottles of water and a package of Pop-Tarts in case Brendon's blood sugar is low, then races back upstairs. Brendon's exactly where he left him, propped up on pillows in his bed, eyes still unfocused. He makes Brendon eat a little bit of one of the Pop-Tarts and drink a lot of the water.
"You okay?" Spencer asks. "You hungry?"
Brendon shakes his head.
Spencer breaks off a little piece of Pop-Tart and holds it to Brendon's mouth. "Just a couple more bites," he says. "Just a couple more bites and you'll have eaten half of it and then you can sleep."
Brendon parts his lips and eats everything Spencer feeds him. He drinks more water when Spencer holds the bottle to his lips. When Spencer climbs into bed next to him, he's relaxed and pliant. He curls up with his head on Spencer's chest, one arm thrown over Spencer's body, one leg hooked over Spencer's hips. He breathes slow and deep, and every once in a while he hums softly to himself, pleased and content.
Brendon falls asleep first, but Spencer's not far behind. When he wakes, the sun is starting to set and Brendon's still curled up against his chest. His fingers tickle where they're sliding over Spencer's ribs.
"Hey," Spencer says, rubbing Brendon's back. "How are you doing?"
"Good," Brendon says, voice thick like he hasn't used it for days. "Really good." He pushes himself up so he can look down at Spencer, and his eyes are clear and focused. He's smiling. He says, "That was so fucking intense."
"Yeah," Spencer agrees. He reaches up and runs his thumb over Brendon's lower lip. "You were really out of it for a while."
"I know." Brendon lies back down, presses his face to Spencer's neck. "I never did that with anybody before, like, totally give up control like that."
Spencer says, "Why'd you give it up for me?"
"It's not something I can do on purpose," Brendon says. "I mean, I wanted it to happen. Ever since I heard it was possible, I wanted it to happen. It just never did before. A little bit, once, that time with the clothespins, when you were spanking me."
"I remember," Spencer says, rubbing Brendon's back in slow circles.
"Not like this, though."
"Should I have stopped?"
Brendon shakes his head. "No. God. You could have gone on forever."
A thought occurs to Spencer, and it sends a chill through him. "Brendon. You couldn't talk."
Brendon laughs. "First time for everything, right?"
"If you can't talk, you can't safeword."
"I didn't want to safeword."
"But, I..." Spencer sighs miserably. "Fuck, Brendon, if you can't safeword, how am I supposed to know when to stop?"
"I trust you," Brendon says easily.
"You shouldn't. Not that much. You don't know how good it feels when I hurt you, how much I like it. What happens if you're out of it like that and I lose control?"
Brendon says, "You won't."
"How do you know?"
"I just know." Brendon lifts his head up and scratches the stubble on his chin against Spencer's collarbone. "I'm hungry. You want food?"
Spencer sighs and says, "We need to talk about this."
Brendon rolls his shoulders and stretches and says, "I'm thinking sushi. We've still got the menu from that place we liked before, right?"
"In the drawer to the left of the fridge," Spencer says.
"What do you want?" Brendon asks. "Wait, don't tell me. A dragon roll and chef's choice nigiri and sashimi."
"And green tea mochi."
"Of course green tea mochi," Brendon says, getting out of bed. "What am I, new?"
Spencer rubs his hands over his face and breathes for a while before getting up and changing the sheets in his room. He pulls on shorts and a t-shirt and heads downstairs. Brendon's sitting naked on the counter, drinking a beer and knocking his heels against the cabinets.
Spencer runs his hand over the bruise forming on Brendon's arm. He can see the mark of his lower teeth clearly, a little bit of a bruise in the center, and then the marks of his upper teeth are smeared from where he'd dragged them as he'd tightened his jaw.
"Did I break the skin anywhere?" he asks.
Brendon looks down at his stomach. Most of the marks are fading, but some of them are definitely going to leave bruises. "I don't think so. This one's going to hurt for a while, though." He props his foot up on the counter so Spencer can see the bruise there, pink in the center and dark red around the edges. He pokes at it and winces, then grins. "It's going to turn purple by tomorrow for sure."
Spencer runs his fingers over it, then moves Brendon's foot so he's dangling his legs over the edge of the counter again. He stands between Brendon's thighs and puts his hands on his hips and touches their foreheads together. "We have to talk about this," he says.
"Why?"
"Because I get off on doing terrible things to you, I can't even pretend that I don't, but I also don't want to actually hurt you in a bad way. And if you can't stop me, that's. A big part of it for me is knowing that you want it, and I have to be able to check in with you. Do you think, if it happens again, do you think you could squeeze my hand if you want me to stop?"
"I'm never going to want you to stop when I'm flying like that," Brendon admits softly. "Everything, every touch, no matter what it is, reads like the best pleasure I've ever felt."
"So how do I know when to stop?"
"Spence, come on, I've never safeworded with you. Not once."
"We've only been doing this for a couple of months."
"I've safeworded with other people the very first time, but never with you because you know me, you can read me the way no one else can."
"I won't always read you right. I'm going to fuck up eventually."
"Maybe."
"Not maybe. I will."
Brendon shrugs and puts his arms around Spencer's waist. "We're both going to fuck up eventually. But you're asking me to be afraid of something that I'm just not afraid of. You're asking me to stop trusting you, and I don't think I'll ever be able to do that."
Spencer sighs and breathes in the smell of Brendon, his skin and the sandalwood from the bath. "So, we have to actually sit down and talk about this, then. Seriously. So I know for sure what your limits are."
"I just like pain," Brendon tells him. "I don't have limits."
"What if I wanted to cut off one of your toes?" Spencer asks.
Brendon leans back quickly and looks into Spencer's face with a worried expression. "You...you want to do stuff like that?"
"No, I really don't. And you don't want it, either, so you do have limits. And I need to know what the rest of them are."
"There are, like, checklists and stuff," Brendon tells him. "Online. Only, they're like really long worksheets, so I've never filled one out."
"We should probably fill one out," Spencer tells him.
Brendon sighs. "It's going to take forever."
"How long until the food gets here?"
"They said forty five minutes."
"So we find a checklist online and work on it for forty five minutes, and then we've got sushi as a reward."
The checklist they find has a list of more than 200 different activities and they're supposed mark down whether or not they've done them, then rank them on a scale from love it to hate it, plus make marks next to anything that’s essential to them and everything that's an absolute no, not ever. They print out two copies of the list and sit in the living room filling them out. Brendon's still naked, but he's got a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
Spencer's willing to try most anything. He marks bestiality as a definite no, the same with scatplay, drinking blood, and public humiliation. He only has a few essentials, too, both giving and receiving anal and oral sex, and giving spankings. The other stuff is harder to figure out. There's so much he hasn't done, has no idea if he'd actually like it or not. Would it really be hot to piss on Brendon, or would it just be awkward? He doesn't know, so he just marks down what he thinks about the things he hasn't tried and puts a question mark by them to indicate that he's not sure.
The food comes before he's finished, but he's hungry and it's nice to take a break. Brendon had ordered them the large chef's platter, more sushi and sashimi than they'll be able to eat, plus a dragon roll and a rainbow roll.
Spencer digs into the dragon roll immediately and groans at how good it is. He's already eaten two pieces and a slice of sea bass when he notices that Brendon's not eating. He's got a plate on his lap and his chopsticks in his hand, but he just looks down at the rainbow roll and doesn't eat it.
"You okay?" Spencer asks, putting his chopsticks down.
"Fine," Brendon says softly.
Spencer shifts from the chair he'd been sitting in to the couch next to Brendon. He slides his arm around Brendon's shoulder and kisses his temple. "What's up?"
Brendon shakes his head. "Why do we have to talk about it?" he asks. "Why can't we just do it?"
"Brendon, come on. You know why."
"You're going to think I'm a freak. If I tell you everything I want..." He shakes his head. "It's good just the way it is, right? I mean, I love the pain, and you seem to like hurting me, so why change anything?"
"Nothing has to change. And I'm not going to think you're a freak. Jesus, Brendon, I'm a sadist. I get off on hurting you. Don't you think that's freaky?"
Brendon leans against him and says, "I think it's awesome."
"And I think it's awesome that you get off when I hurt you, so I don't see what the problem is. Did you finish the checklist?"
Brendon nods.
"Can I read it?"
Brendon sighs, then reaches out and hands him the papers he'd had ticked next to him on the couch.
"You should eat," Spencer says. "You need something to fuel you back up after this afternoon."
Brendon shrugs.
Spencer says, "Eat." And Brendon picks up the slice wrapped in salmon and eats it. Something starts to simmer low in Spencer's gut, not quite arousal, but close. He takes a deep breath and says, "You don't have to eat it all. Just as much as you want."
Brendon nods and chews and swallows and picks up another piece with his fingers.
Spencer looks over Brendon's checklist. Brendon wants Spencer to fuck him, but his also really wants Spencer to use toys and plugs and maybe even his fist. He wants to be tied up and beaten. He wants to be flogged and spanked and whipped. He wants to kiss Spencer's feet. He wants Spencer to slap his face, to choke him, to torture his nipples and his balls and his cock. He has abduction and rape fantasies he wants to play out. He wants Spencer to pick out his clothes, to choose his food, to play his daddy. He wants to try sounding and electrostimulation and golden showers and figging and hot wax.
Spencer says, "There's not a single thing on here that makes me think you're a freak."
Brendon nods, but he's still looking down at his plate. He's eaten half the rainbow roll and is pushing a slice of ginger around with his finger.
Spencer says, "Grab my plate, load it up with sushi and sashimi, and bring it here."
He watches as Brendon does it, as Brendon picks up the plate with Spencer's dragon roll and fills it with slices of maguro and hamachi sashimi, unagi sushi, all of Spencer's favorites. He even nestles a small dish of shoyu in where it won't spill, right next to pickled ginger and wasabi.
Spencer scoots over a little bit, and Brendon sits with his back against the high side of the couch, his legs over Spencer's lap. He balances the plate on his knees and Spencer eats with his fingers, his left hand curling through Brendon's hair. "I mean it. Nothing about this freaks me out."
Brendon says, "I've done this before, you know."
"I know."
"Never like this. Not with somebody I was dating. I mean, not that we're dating or anything, just--"
Spencer says, "Brendon, be serious. When's the last time you slept with someone who wasn't me?"
"It's been a while. So, um, are we dating?"
Spencer says, "I'm pretty sure we're already past dating and into living together."
Brendon smiles and says, "Cool." Then his face goes serious again. "I've never done it like this, but I have done it. Usually with strangers. And sometimes it was amazing. And sometimes it was boring. And once or twice, it was really bad. And I just. Every time it went bad, I felt like I deserved it for wanting the things I want. Like, if I want people to hurt me, I don't have any right to object when they really hurt me. In a bad way."
Spencer says, "You can tell me what happened if you want."
Brendon shakes his head. "It wasn't, like, traumatic or anything. Just. One time this guy had invited his friends over with the idea that it would be, like, some gang bang thing or whatever, so I just got the fuck out of there. Nothing happened, but it shook me, you know?"
Spencer nods. "Of course."
"And then, last year, I was. There was this guy I'd played with a couple of times, and he wanted to try something new. And things had been good until then, so I wasn't worried. And he tied me up and blindfolded me, and that was okay. And he put plugs in my ears. Like, those foam ones you roll up and they expand? I couldn't see and I couldn't hear and it was too much. I tried to work through it. I didn't say anything right away, figured once he stopped whipping me and started fucking me that I'd be all right, that I'd stop feeling so trapped, like I couldn't breathe. But I didn't. So, I said my safeword." Brendon shrugs and he's looking down and away, like he doesn't want Spencer to see him.
"He didn't stop," Spencer says.
"It was only, like. It was just a few minutes more. Maybe ten at the most. So, I don't know. I could breathe just fine, it just felt like I couldn't, so it's not like he had to stop. It's not like he actually hurt me."
Spencer leans forward and sets his plate on the table, pulls Brendon into his arms. He doesn't hold tightly, just loops his arms around Brendon's shoulders and kisses his temple. He says, "You know what he did was fucked up, right? That it wasn't your fault? You know he should have stopped."
Brendon says, "Yeah, I know. I emailed the lady, the president of the club where'd I'd met him, to tell her that I'd safeworded and he'd ignored it. So she'd know, so other people would know he did stuff like that. She tried to call me, wanted me to tell her what happened in more detail, but I couldn't. That's why I changed my number last summer."
Spencer rubs Brendon's back and he feels like such a sick fucking pervert. He's thought about tying Brendon up, about blindfolding him and spanking him and fucking him senseless. He's jerked off to fantasies about it.
Spencer says, "I'm glad you told me."
Brendon says, "I'm not taking any of that off the table. I don't mind being scared. I like being scared. Just, all of it in combination, that much of the world being blocked out at a time, it's too much." He pulls away and swings his legs over the side of the couch. "Can I read your list?"
"Sure," Spencer says.
Brendon gets up to grab Spencer's list from where he'd left it on the kitchen counter. He snuggles back up to Spencer on the couch, then, and starts to read. He says, "Wow, you haven't done anything."
"You already knew that."
"But, like, you never even put panties on someone? I put panties on myself when I was, like, fourteen."
Spencer laughs and scratches the back of Brendon's neck. "Why?"
"Because it felt dirty and hot. I'd, like, snap myself with rubber bands, on my inner thighs and my nipples mostly, but all over, too, and then when I was so hard I couldn't stand it, I'd put on panties and turn over and hump against my mattress and feel how silky they were over my dick and on my ass. I usually imagined there was a guy there, a grown man, watching me, getting ready to fuck me."
"That's a pretty detailed fantasy for fourteen," says Spencer.
Brendon shrugs. "I was always a prodigy when it came to getting myself off. I even came up with the idea to drip hot wax on my skin without ever hearing about it from somewhere else. I just thought of it and felt like a fucking genius."
Spencer says, "I, uh, I saw Starship Troopers when I was in seventh grade, and there's this one scene?"
"With the blonde muscley dude getting whipped, yeah," Brendon says fondly. "That's a good one."
"I didn't even know why I was so fucking hard all of a sudden. I mean, it just happened sometimes. I was twelve, so I got hard for no reason all the time. But, man, I just knew I liked it and I didn't really know why. And then a year or so later, I was reading this skateboarding forum and one of the guys posted pictures of his bruises from, like, hitting a rail and falling down concrete steps when he fucked up a trick. And I looked at them and I just had to jerk off right that second, and after I came I felt like, I don't know. Such a fucking creep."
Brendon says, "I don't think you're a creep."
"You don't know some of the things I want to do to you. Like, what you just told me, about being blindfolded and tied up? I've thought about that. More than once."
"Well, then I suppose it's a good thing we filled these stupid things out."
Spencer grins.
"Fine. You were right, okay? I'm admitting that you were right."
"It's been known to happen once or twice." Spencer's stomach growls, then, loud and gurgling.
Brendon laughs and says, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, fuck, you keep trying to eat and I keep being all..." He shrugs. "I'm going to let you eat your dinner now, I promise." He grabs the plate off the table and puts it in Spencer's lap, then picks up the remote and turns on the TV.
He finds a Golden Girls marathon on the Hallmark channel and between professing their love for Sophia, drinking a couple of beers, and kissing during the commercials, they manage to finish the sushi after all. They leave the green tea and mango mochi for breakfast.
This entry was originally posted at http://janesays.dreamwidth.org/3133.html. Comment wherever you'd like.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer
Word Count: 5,000
Summary: Brendon likes pain, Spencer likes causing pain, and they try to figure things out.
Warnings: BDSM both enacted and discussed, mentions of a prior non-consensual situation
Notes: This will probably end up being a 'verse, but I'm still figuring it all out in my own head, too.
AO3 link: right here
Spencer's lounging on his bed, back flat against the headboard, book in his hands. He's reading it a little, but Brendon's there, snuggled into the V of Spencer's legs, leaning against Spencer's chest as he watches TV on a lazy Tuesday afternoon. Spencer reads a few pages, then looks up when Brendon laughs. Its an episode of South Park they've both seen more than once.
Spencer smiles and presses his face to the warm skin of Brendon's neck, and Brendon tenses. Brendon tenses and holds his breath and his fingers dig into the underside of Spencer's thigh.
Spencer says, "What?"
Brendon lets out a shaky laugh and starts to relax. He shakes his head, "Nothing. Just."
"Just?"
"I thought you were going to bite me," Brendon admits.
Spencer says, "Oh." He hadn't been thinking about it, but now he does. He thinks about sinking his teeth into the flesh of Brendon's shoulder, thinks of the sound Brendon would make, the cut-off protest, the way his entire body would fight against the pain and the way he would relax, suddenly, as he gave himself over to it.
Brendon laughs again, nervously, and starts to sit up.
Spencer drops his book and places his hand flat across Brendon's chest, holding him there. "I, um, I'll always tell you first. Before I hurt you."
Brendon nods.
"Do you want me to hurt you right now?"
That gets another shaky, nervous laugh. Brendon squirms against him, rubbing against where Spencer's starting to get hard. "Maybe," he says, and he sounds uncertain.
Brendon is uncharacteristically shy when it comes to talking about what kinds of pain he wants. "I just want you to hurt me," he'll say whenever Spencer asks.
And Spencer says, "I know, but I want to know how you want me to hurt you."
And Brendon will just usually say, "I don't care. However you want."
So Spencer hurts him, and Brendon gets off on the pain, and Spencer gets off on inflicting it.
It's still new, this thing they've started. The sex isn't new, not really. They've been making out off and on since they were in high school but it was never a big deal. Jerking each other off on tour hadn't been a big deal, either, just something they did sometimes, just a tension release. And when they'd decided to share a house, well, being fuck buddies worked well for both of them.
They'd both been drunk the night it had turned serious, the night Brendon had said, "Hurt me. Please, please, Spence, I need you to hurt me, come on," and Spencer had.
He's terrified thinking about that night, how out of control they both were, and the memories always turn him on.
He slides his hand into Brendon's sweatpants and Brendon's getting hard, too. He jerks him off slowly, squeezes his cock and whispers, "Tell me what you want me to do to you."
Brendon drops his head back onto Spencer's shoulder and says. "Just. Whatever you want. Bite me. All over, I want to feel it all over."
Spencer says, "Take your clothes off," and goes to shut the door. Bogart's probably napping in a beam of sunlight somewhere, but Spencer doesn't want him coming in and jumping up onto the bed while he and Brendon play.
Brendon tugs his clothes off quickly and kicks the covers down and stretches out on his back. He says, "Is this okay? How do you want me?"
Spencer says, "This is fine." He's never bitten anybody before, not really. He's given girlfriends hickeys, had even given Brendon a hickey or two back in high school when they made out any time they were bored. He's scraped his teeth over nipples and clits and cocks, but he's never actually bitten down with the intention of causing pain. The thought of it makes him shaky and a little giddy.
He kisses his way across Brendon's stomach, trails his tongue along one of the sharp lines angling up from Brendon's pelvis. He nips playfully at Brendon's hipbone, then again just below his navel. He kisses his way up and when his lip catches against Brendon's skin, he figures it's as good a spot as any. He licks the skin, first, parts his lips and feels Brendon's muscles tense in anticipation. He digs his teeth in, then, not even really biting at first, just getting a feel for Brendon's skin. He tightens his grip little by little, until Brendon gasps, and then he just holds. He keeps the pressure firm, intense, but he doesn't move, he just waits.
Brendon whimpers and he grabs a hold of Spencer's arm, but he doesn't try to pull him away.
Slowly, Spencer bites down harder. He listens to Brendon groan, feels his deep breaths.
Brendon says, "Oh, fuck," in a choked voice.
Spencer bites a little harder, runs his tongue over the skin between his teeth. He bites down a little bit harder, then a little bit harder still. Brendon makes a soft, desperate noise in the back of his throat. Spencer increases the pressure just a little bit more, then he lets go.
When he pulls back, he watches Brendon's skin move back into place, watches as the oval of teeth marks he'd just left turn from white to pink to red. The mark's just to the upper left of Brendon's navel, and it looks amazing. Spencer wonders if it's going to bruise. He runs his fingers over it and Brendon makes his pleasure-pain noise.
"Think it's going to bruise?" Spencer asks.
Brendon props himself up on his elbows and looks at it. He says, "I hope so. Fuck, Spence, that's hot."
"I want to mark you all over," Spencer tells him. "That okay?"
Brendon falls back onto the mattress and says, "Yeah."
He bites gently across Brendon's belly, then harder whenever the urge strikes. It doesn't take long, only a couple of minutes before the voice in his head starts up. Hurt him, it says, really hurt him. Make him cry. Make him scream. Spencer can feel his heart pounding in his chest and his cock bobbing hard between his legs, but he doesn't reach down to touch it. He bites down one of Brendon's thighs, then back up again, groaning with how good it is every time Brendon writhes and cries out.
It starts to feel out of his control, soon, like he's on autopilot, like he could do this forever. Nothing exists outside of the bed. The whole world is just Brendon and the feel of his skin beneath Spencer's hands and between his teeth. He nips and kisses and licks and bites, bites again, bites hard, nips and kisses and nips his way up to Brendon's mouth.
There are tears in Brendon's eyes, and Spencer says, "You okay? You want me to stop?"
"No," Brendon says, and as he blinks, the tears fall. "Keep going. Please."
Spencer bites harder, with more urgency and desperation than before. It's like he needs to do it, like if he can't make Brendon cry even harder, can't make him gasp and moan, then he doesn't want to do anything at all. The bites to Brendon's stomach are brutal, and he feels Brendon shaking beneath him. He runs his teeth along Brendon's shaft, and Brendon shudders and let out a frightened moan, but he doesn't pull away and he doesn't tell Spencer to stop.
He thinks about biting Brendon's cock, but he doesn't. Instead he bites hard into the soft flesh of Brendon's inner thigh, slowly increasing the pressure. Brendon's responding differently than he had been, is no longer tensing and resisting, has started going pliant and open with each bite. He slides his tongue over Brendon's skin, tight between his teeth, and he listens to the soft, helpless noises Brendon's making.
As he relaxes his bite, Brendon laughs. It had thrown Spencer off the first time, made him think he'd done something stupid. But Brendon just laughs when it's good, starts to get giggly as he relaxes into the pain.
He bites his way up Brendon's leg, bites over his hip, sucks bruises along Brendon's ribs. He kisses and bites his way across Brendon's chest, digs his teeth hard into the angle between Brendon's shoulder and his neck.
Then he kisses Brendon's mouth and Brendon barely kisses back. When he leans up, he can see that Brendon's pupils are dilated and his gaze seems far away.
"Hey," Spencer says softly, running his fingers through Brendon's hair. "Hey, you all right?"
Brendon opens his mouth a couple of times like he's going to speak, but he never does. He nods, though, looks up at Spencer with his wide dark eyes and nods once.
It's only happened once before, Brendon going so passive and nonverbal. He'd said it was okay, after, had told Spencer that it felt like being high, but Spencer's not sure if he should stop or just keep going.
"You want me to stop?"
Brendon shakes his head, tips his head back and arches his neck like he's inviting Spencer to bite him there. Spencer does. Spencer bites along Brendon's collarbone, bites his shoulder, sinks his teeth hard into the flesh of Brendon's bicep, really letting his jaw tighten.
Brendon gasps and comes, moaning softly, body shuddering.
Spencer shoves his hand between his legs and he's coming with the first touch, Brendon's flesh between his teeth, Brendon's soft moans of pleasure in his ears.
He kisses Brendon again, kisses him over and over again, doesn't have words for how beautiful Brendon is or how lucky Spencer is to get to touch him the way he does.
After a few minutes, Spencer says, "Come on, let's change beds. We wrecked the sheets."
Brendon doesn't sit up on his own, but when Spencer tugs gently on his arm, he sits up and blinks groggily. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed but doesn't stand until Spencer slides an arm around his shoulders and urges him up.
Spencer pauses in the bathroom on their way, leans Brendon against the counter and looks for a washcloth to dampen and wipe Brendon's skin down with. As soon as he turns, though, Brendon climbs into the tub and sits at the far end. He hunches his shoulders in like he's cold, but he doesn't start the water.
Spencer kneels next to the tub. "You want a bath?" he asks softly.
Brendon nods.
He strokes Brendon's hair, then says, "Pull your feet back a little more while I get the temperature right."
It's strange how protective he feels of Brendon afterwards, how Brendon looks to Spencer to care for him. Like Spencer's not the one who just hurt him. Like Spencer's not the reason he's mute and trembling.
Spencer runs the water and adjusts the knob until it's at a temperature he likes. Then he turns it up just a little bit because Brendon likes it hotter and adds a little of his shower gel, lightly scented with sandalwood. He soaps up Brendon's chest and his arms, slides his hands beneath the water to rub the washcloth gently over Brendon's cock and down his thighs. He keeps every touch slow and tender, leans over the edge of the tub periodically to kiss Brendon's cheek and his temple, his bare shoulder and his mouth.
He dries Brendon off, after, wraps him in a big towel and leads him to his own bed. Once Brendon's under the covers, Spencer turns to go and Brendon reaches out to grab his hand.
"I'm coming back," Spencer tells him. "I'm just going to get you some water."
Brendon shakes his head. He says, "Please."
Spencer kisses him and says, "You're all right here. You just close your eyes and I'll be back before you know it."
Brendon takes a deep breath, then another. His eyes get shiny and he opens his mouth, but no other words come out.
"Brendon, listen to me. I know it's hard, but really listen to me. I'm not leaving you here. I'm going to get you water and I'll be right back. I won't even be gone a minute."
Brendon takes another deep breath, but he looks less like he's going to cry.
Spencer takes the stairs two at a time, grabs two bottles of water and a package of Pop-Tarts in case Brendon's blood sugar is low, then races back upstairs. Brendon's exactly where he left him, propped up on pillows in his bed, eyes still unfocused. He makes Brendon eat a little bit of one of the Pop-Tarts and drink a lot of the water.
"You okay?" Spencer asks. "You hungry?"
Brendon shakes his head.
Spencer breaks off a little piece of Pop-Tart and holds it to Brendon's mouth. "Just a couple more bites," he says. "Just a couple more bites and you'll have eaten half of it and then you can sleep."
Brendon parts his lips and eats everything Spencer feeds him. He drinks more water when Spencer holds the bottle to his lips. When Spencer climbs into bed next to him, he's relaxed and pliant. He curls up with his head on Spencer's chest, one arm thrown over Spencer's body, one leg hooked over Spencer's hips. He breathes slow and deep, and every once in a while he hums softly to himself, pleased and content.
Brendon falls asleep first, but Spencer's not far behind. When he wakes, the sun is starting to set and Brendon's still curled up against his chest. His fingers tickle where they're sliding over Spencer's ribs.
"Hey," Spencer says, rubbing Brendon's back. "How are you doing?"
"Good," Brendon says, voice thick like he hasn't used it for days. "Really good." He pushes himself up so he can look down at Spencer, and his eyes are clear and focused. He's smiling. He says, "That was so fucking intense."
"Yeah," Spencer agrees. He reaches up and runs his thumb over Brendon's lower lip. "You were really out of it for a while."
"I know." Brendon lies back down, presses his face to Spencer's neck. "I never did that with anybody before, like, totally give up control like that."
Spencer says, "Why'd you give it up for me?"
"It's not something I can do on purpose," Brendon says. "I mean, I wanted it to happen. Ever since I heard it was possible, I wanted it to happen. It just never did before. A little bit, once, that time with the clothespins, when you were spanking me."
"I remember," Spencer says, rubbing Brendon's back in slow circles.
"Not like this, though."
"Should I have stopped?"
Brendon shakes his head. "No. God. You could have gone on forever."
A thought occurs to Spencer, and it sends a chill through him. "Brendon. You couldn't talk."
Brendon laughs. "First time for everything, right?"
"If you can't talk, you can't safeword."
"I didn't want to safeword."
"But, I..." Spencer sighs miserably. "Fuck, Brendon, if you can't safeword, how am I supposed to know when to stop?"
"I trust you," Brendon says easily.
"You shouldn't. Not that much. You don't know how good it feels when I hurt you, how much I like it. What happens if you're out of it like that and I lose control?"
Brendon says, "You won't."
"How do you know?"
"I just know." Brendon lifts his head up and scratches the stubble on his chin against Spencer's collarbone. "I'm hungry. You want food?"
Spencer sighs and says, "We need to talk about this."
Brendon rolls his shoulders and stretches and says, "I'm thinking sushi. We've still got the menu from that place we liked before, right?"
"In the drawer to the left of the fridge," Spencer says.
"What do you want?" Brendon asks. "Wait, don't tell me. A dragon roll and chef's choice nigiri and sashimi."
"And green tea mochi."
"Of course green tea mochi," Brendon says, getting out of bed. "What am I, new?"
Spencer rubs his hands over his face and breathes for a while before getting up and changing the sheets in his room. He pulls on shorts and a t-shirt and heads downstairs. Brendon's sitting naked on the counter, drinking a beer and knocking his heels against the cabinets.
Spencer runs his hand over the bruise forming on Brendon's arm. He can see the mark of his lower teeth clearly, a little bit of a bruise in the center, and then the marks of his upper teeth are smeared from where he'd dragged them as he'd tightened his jaw.
"Did I break the skin anywhere?" he asks.
Brendon looks down at his stomach. Most of the marks are fading, but some of them are definitely going to leave bruises. "I don't think so. This one's going to hurt for a while, though." He props his foot up on the counter so Spencer can see the bruise there, pink in the center and dark red around the edges. He pokes at it and winces, then grins. "It's going to turn purple by tomorrow for sure."
Spencer runs his fingers over it, then moves Brendon's foot so he's dangling his legs over the edge of the counter again. He stands between Brendon's thighs and puts his hands on his hips and touches their foreheads together. "We have to talk about this," he says.
"Why?"
"Because I get off on doing terrible things to you, I can't even pretend that I don't, but I also don't want to actually hurt you in a bad way. And if you can't stop me, that's. A big part of it for me is knowing that you want it, and I have to be able to check in with you. Do you think, if it happens again, do you think you could squeeze my hand if you want me to stop?"
"I'm never going to want you to stop when I'm flying like that," Brendon admits softly. "Everything, every touch, no matter what it is, reads like the best pleasure I've ever felt."
"So how do I know when to stop?"
"Spence, come on, I've never safeworded with you. Not once."
"We've only been doing this for a couple of months."
"I've safeworded with other people the very first time, but never with you because you know me, you can read me the way no one else can."
"I won't always read you right. I'm going to fuck up eventually."
"Maybe."
"Not maybe. I will."
Brendon shrugs and puts his arms around Spencer's waist. "We're both going to fuck up eventually. But you're asking me to be afraid of something that I'm just not afraid of. You're asking me to stop trusting you, and I don't think I'll ever be able to do that."
Spencer sighs and breathes in the smell of Brendon, his skin and the sandalwood from the bath. "So, we have to actually sit down and talk about this, then. Seriously. So I know for sure what your limits are."
"I just like pain," Brendon tells him. "I don't have limits."
"What if I wanted to cut off one of your toes?" Spencer asks.
Brendon leans back quickly and looks into Spencer's face with a worried expression. "You...you want to do stuff like that?"
"No, I really don't. And you don't want it, either, so you do have limits. And I need to know what the rest of them are."
"There are, like, checklists and stuff," Brendon tells him. "Online. Only, they're like really long worksheets, so I've never filled one out."
"We should probably fill one out," Spencer tells him.
Brendon sighs. "It's going to take forever."
"How long until the food gets here?"
"They said forty five minutes."
"So we find a checklist online and work on it for forty five minutes, and then we've got sushi as a reward."
The checklist they find has a list of more than 200 different activities and they're supposed mark down whether or not they've done them, then rank them on a scale from love it to hate it, plus make marks next to anything that’s essential to them and everything that's an absolute no, not ever. They print out two copies of the list and sit in the living room filling them out. Brendon's still naked, but he's got a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
Spencer's willing to try most anything. He marks bestiality as a definite no, the same with scatplay, drinking blood, and public humiliation. He only has a few essentials, too, both giving and receiving anal and oral sex, and giving spankings. The other stuff is harder to figure out. There's so much he hasn't done, has no idea if he'd actually like it or not. Would it really be hot to piss on Brendon, or would it just be awkward? He doesn't know, so he just marks down what he thinks about the things he hasn't tried and puts a question mark by them to indicate that he's not sure.
The food comes before he's finished, but he's hungry and it's nice to take a break. Brendon had ordered them the large chef's platter, more sushi and sashimi than they'll be able to eat, plus a dragon roll and a rainbow roll.
Spencer digs into the dragon roll immediately and groans at how good it is. He's already eaten two pieces and a slice of sea bass when he notices that Brendon's not eating. He's got a plate on his lap and his chopsticks in his hand, but he just looks down at the rainbow roll and doesn't eat it.
"You okay?" Spencer asks, putting his chopsticks down.
"Fine," Brendon says softly.
Spencer shifts from the chair he'd been sitting in to the couch next to Brendon. He slides his arm around Brendon's shoulder and kisses his temple. "What's up?"
Brendon shakes his head. "Why do we have to talk about it?" he asks. "Why can't we just do it?"
"Brendon, come on. You know why."
"You're going to think I'm a freak. If I tell you everything I want..." He shakes his head. "It's good just the way it is, right? I mean, I love the pain, and you seem to like hurting me, so why change anything?"
"Nothing has to change. And I'm not going to think you're a freak. Jesus, Brendon, I'm a sadist. I get off on hurting you. Don't you think that's freaky?"
Brendon leans against him and says, "I think it's awesome."
"And I think it's awesome that you get off when I hurt you, so I don't see what the problem is. Did you finish the checklist?"
Brendon nods.
"Can I read it?"
Brendon sighs, then reaches out and hands him the papers he'd had ticked next to him on the couch.
"You should eat," Spencer says. "You need something to fuel you back up after this afternoon."
Brendon shrugs.
Spencer says, "Eat." And Brendon picks up the slice wrapped in salmon and eats it. Something starts to simmer low in Spencer's gut, not quite arousal, but close. He takes a deep breath and says, "You don't have to eat it all. Just as much as you want."
Brendon nods and chews and swallows and picks up another piece with his fingers.
Spencer looks over Brendon's checklist. Brendon wants Spencer to fuck him, but his also really wants Spencer to use toys and plugs and maybe even his fist. He wants to be tied up and beaten. He wants to be flogged and spanked and whipped. He wants to kiss Spencer's feet. He wants Spencer to slap his face, to choke him, to torture his nipples and his balls and his cock. He has abduction and rape fantasies he wants to play out. He wants Spencer to pick out his clothes, to choose his food, to play his daddy. He wants to try sounding and electrostimulation and golden showers and figging and hot wax.
Spencer says, "There's not a single thing on here that makes me think you're a freak."
Brendon nods, but he's still looking down at his plate. He's eaten half the rainbow roll and is pushing a slice of ginger around with his finger.
Spencer says, "Grab my plate, load it up with sushi and sashimi, and bring it here."
He watches as Brendon does it, as Brendon picks up the plate with Spencer's dragon roll and fills it with slices of maguro and hamachi sashimi, unagi sushi, all of Spencer's favorites. He even nestles a small dish of shoyu in where it won't spill, right next to pickled ginger and wasabi.
Spencer scoots over a little bit, and Brendon sits with his back against the high side of the couch, his legs over Spencer's lap. He balances the plate on his knees and Spencer eats with his fingers, his left hand curling through Brendon's hair. "I mean it. Nothing about this freaks me out."
Brendon says, "I've done this before, you know."
"I know."
"Never like this. Not with somebody I was dating. I mean, not that we're dating or anything, just--"
Spencer says, "Brendon, be serious. When's the last time you slept with someone who wasn't me?"
"It's been a while. So, um, are we dating?"
Spencer says, "I'm pretty sure we're already past dating and into living together."
Brendon smiles and says, "Cool." Then his face goes serious again. "I've never done it like this, but I have done it. Usually with strangers. And sometimes it was amazing. And sometimes it was boring. And once or twice, it was really bad. And I just. Every time it went bad, I felt like I deserved it for wanting the things I want. Like, if I want people to hurt me, I don't have any right to object when they really hurt me. In a bad way."
Spencer says, "You can tell me what happened if you want."
Brendon shakes his head. "It wasn't, like, traumatic or anything. Just. One time this guy had invited his friends over with the idea that it would be, like, some gang bang thing or whatever, so I just got the fuck out of there. Nothing happened, but it shook me, you know?"
Spencer nods. "Of course."
"And then, last year, I was. There was this guy I'd played with a couple of times, and he wanted to try something new. And things had been good until then, so I wasn't worried. And he tied me up and blindfolded me, and that was okay. And he put plugs in my ears. Like, those foam ones you roll up and they expand? I couldn't see and I couldn't hear and it was too much. I tried to work through it. I didn't say anything right away, figured once he stopped whipping me and started fucking me that I'd be all right, that I'd stop feeling so trapped, like I couldn't breathe. But I didn't. So, I said my safeword." Brendon shrugs and he's looking down and away, like he doesn't want Spencer to see him.
"He didn't stop," Spencer says.
"It was only, like. It was just a few minutes more. Maybe ten at the most. So, I don't know. I could breathe just fine, it just felt like I couldn't, so it's not like he had to stop. It's not like he actually hurt me."
Spencer leans forward and sets his plate on the table, pulls Brendon into his arms. He doesn't hold tightly, just loops his arms around Brendon's shoulders and kisses his temple. He says, "You know what he did was fucked up, right? That it wasn't your fault? You know he should have stopped."
Brendon says, "Yeah, I know. I emailed the lady, the president of the club where'd I'd met him, to tell her that I'd safeworded and he'd ignored it. So she'd know, so other people would know he did stuff like that. She tried to call me, wanted me to tell her what happened in more detail, but I couldn't. That's why I changed my number last summer."
Spencer rubs Brendon's back and he feels like such a sick fucking pervert. He's thought about tying Brendon up, about blindfolding him and spanking him and fucking him senseless. He's jerked off to fantasies about it.
Spencer says, "I'm glad you told me."
Brendon says, "I'm not taking any of that off the table. I don't mind being scared. I like being scared. Just, all of it in combination, that much of the world being blocked out at a time, it's too much." He pulls away and swings his legs over the side of the couch. "Can I read your list?"
"Sure," Spencer says.
Brendon gets up to grab Spencer's list from where he'd left it on the kitchen counter. He snuggles back up to Spencer on the couch, then, and starts to read. He says, "Wow, you haven't done anything."
"You already knew that."
"But, like, you never even put panties on someone? I put panties on myself when I was, like, fourteen."
Spencer laughs and scratches the back of Brendon's neck. "Why?"
"Because it felt dirty and hot. I'd, like, snap myself with rubber bands, on my inner thighs and my nipples mostly, but all over, too, and then when I was so hard I couldn't stand it, I'd put on panties and turn over and hump against my mattress and feel how silky they were over my dick and on my ass. I usually imagined there was a guy there, a grown man, watching me, getting ready to fuck me."
"That's a pretty detailed fantasy for fourteen," says Spencer.
Brendon shrugs. "I was always a prodigy when it came to getting myself off. I even came up with the idea to drip hot wax on my skin without ever hearing about it from somewhere else. I just thought of it and felt like a fucking genius."
Spencer says, "I, uh, I saw Starship Troopers when I was in seventh grade, and there's this one scene?"
"With the blonde muscley dude getting whipped, yeah," Brendon says fondly. "That's a good one."
"I didn't even know why I was so fucking hard all of a sudden. I mean, it just happened sometimes. I was twelve, so I got hard for no reason all the time. But, man, I just knew I liked it and I didn't really know why. And then a year or so later, I was reading this skateboarding forum and one of the guys posted pictures of his bruises from, like, hitting a rail and falling down concrete steps when he fucked up a trick. And I looked at them and I just had to jerk off right that second, and after I came I felt like, I don't know. Such a fucking creep."
Brendon says, "I don't think you're a creep."
"You don't know some of the things I want to do to you. Like, what you just told me, about being blindfolded and tied up? I've thought about that. More than once."
"Well, then I suppose it's a good thing we filled these stupid things out."
Spencer grins.
"Fine. You were right, okay? I'm admitting that you were right."
"It's been known to happen once or twice." Spencer's stomach growls, then, loud and gurgling.
Brendon laughs and says, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, fuck, you keep trying to eat and I keep being all..." He shrugs. "I'm going to let you eat your dinner now, I promise." He grabs the plate off the table and puts it in Spencer's lap, then picks up the remote and turns on the TV.
He finds a Golden Girls marathon on the Hallmark channel and between professing their love for Sophia, drinking a couple of beers, and kissing during the commercials, they manage to finish the sushi after all. They leave the green tea and mango mochi for breakfast.
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