bandslash fic: so good for me
Ahaha, nervous much? Anyway, this was started for bandslashmania, but scrapped for another idea and thus finished for disarm_d's pornothon. Porn, ftw!
So Good For Me
Brendon/Spencer
NC-17
Brendon wakes up a girl on Tuesday and he’s really not happy. Still pretty, he insists when Ryan just sort of stares, but not at all happy. Nobody actually seems to mind, though, besides Ryan who goes on about lead singer, can’t fucking believe this and you have got to be kidding me.
But Brendon checks and his body may have changed, he’s got slightly wider hips and boobs, yea, but his voice hasn’t changed. He can hit the same notes and it’s like nothing has even changed. Except the part where he’s a girl.
Jon votes they take advantage of the situation.
“I mean, you’re a girl,” he says with a smile, like this happens every day, but Brendon knows he’s joking, really hopes he’s joking. Spencer’s giving him one of those Spencer looks and Brendon snaps, “I know,” and goes to his room.
It doesn’t take long for someone to follow him, her, and he’s upset enough that he totally forgets to time it.
“You’re kind of hot,” Spencer says once he’s sitting on the bed, legs crossed and facing Brendon. He gives Spencer his best “fuck off and die” look, but Spencer doesn’t even flinch. He just shrugs, says, “At least your pants still fit.”
And really, they do. Everything fits the same way it always did, but Brendon’s a girl. Everything fits the same way it always did, everything but Brendon.
Brendon lays back, curls up as much as he can without kicking, or even touching Spencer.
“I’m a girl, Spence,” he mumbles into his pillow and he’s not even sure Spencer hears him. But then there’s a solid warmth at his back and Spencer is wrapping an arm around his middle, fingers sliding beneath his shirt and rubbing soothing circles into his skin.
“Yea,” Spencer agrees, voice soft. And Spencer must be at a loss for words because he doesn’t continue, just runs his fingers across Brendon’s belly. His movements are getting larger and larger, straying from the edge of Brendon’s waistband all the way up to the edge of his boobs and Brendon’s not sure if the movements are deliberate or Spencer is just being nice, being calming.
Either way, an odd sort of heat starts pooling in his groin, similar to what he’d felt before when he’d still had his dick. But this is different, this is more subtle, not nearly as immediate and he can feel it building slowly.
Brendon’s concentrating on the feel of Spencer’s fingers and the heat when he notices that Spencer’s hard. He can feel Spencer’s erection right in the curve of his ass, can’t help moving back, squirming further into Spencer’s body.
“Spence?” Spencer hums a little, fingers running ever closer to his new boobs. They’re curving through circles and swirls and Brendon sucks in hard when one barely touches the upward slope and then quickly retreats. His next words become a silent slur of ohgodplease as Spencer’s touches get more daring.
Spencer’s mouth opens against the back of Brendon’s neck at the same time his finger finally, finally, brushes against Brendon’s nipple.
Brendon arches into him, hands gripping folds of blankets and the edge of his pillow. It doesn’t take long, a few wet kisses, soft bites, against the side of his neck before Brendon is twisting around, making it easier to get at Spencer’s mouth.
Biting at Brendon’s lip, Spencer rolls him onto his back and lowers himself between Brendon’s legs, legs that fall open of their own accord, Brendon swears to himself. And he hasn’t really changed, not too much, but he’s got a little bit of curve now and he just feels softer somehow, feels it as Spencer sinks against him.
He lifts one leg around Spencer’s hip, pulls him in closer, and kisses his way down Spencer’s neck, biting at his collarbone and hoping to leave a mark.
With Brendon’s mouth still on his neck, Spencer slips a hand into Brendon’s sleep pants, rubs lightly at his hip. But when Brendon tilts his head back up, mouth searching Spencer’s, Spencer pulls back, too far even when Brendon starts to follow.
Eyes wide, Brendon tries not to feel hurt, tries not to show Spencer that he’s hurt.
“You want to do this?” His voice is serious, really serious, and Brendon snorts, looks away, but Spencer doesn’t move, just waits. Finally, Brendon lifts his hips up a little, pushes them against Spencer’s in an obvious yes, please.
And Spencer doesn’t say anything, but it’s in the responding thrust of his hips and the tiny, almost smile on his face. Brendon can see it in his eyes, feel it in fingers on his hip.
“Yes,” Brendon says after a while, after Spencer has rid him of his shirt, gently cupped his brand new boobs in both hands and kissed his way from Brendon’s waistband, tugged lightly at his nipples with his teeth, and finally ends with wet, almost sloppy kisses on his mouth. And he’s not even sure what he’s agreeing to, everything probably, everything Spencer-shaped and he says it again, confident and sure, “Yes.”
Spencer’s fumbling in Brendon’s bedside table, absolutely sure that he’ll find lube, condoms, and Brendon would blush if he wasn’t so turned on, so ready, but he is and he’s far past caring.
He’s tugging at the hem of Spencer’s shirt, desperately wanting it gone, but nowhere near coordinated enough to do anything other than tug. Spencer’s mouth is on his, Spencer’s hands are pushing at his pants, and Spencer’s dick is pressed tight against him and Brendon is having enough trouble trying to breathe, he can’t manage the obstacles of shirts and pants and he sighs in delight when Spencer finally discards all the extra layers.
“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer,” Brendon chants as Spencer moves his fingers over the inside of his thighs, not quite where Brendon needs him to be. When Spencer continues stroking his side with one hand and the other stays resolutely away from Brendon’s clit or anything else that would actually help get Brendon off, he adds a desperate, “Please. Spencer, please.”
With a short laugh, one that quickly turns into a moan as Brendon wraps a hand around his dick, Spencer rubs his fingers along Brendon’s outer lips and then slowly tucks one inside of Brendon as another flicks occasionally across his clit. And Spencer has really, really, nice fingers. So nice and Brendon doesn’t even bother to stop the sounds that escape him, soft whimpers and tiny keening noises.
And then Spencer is pressing a second finger inside of him, working them slowly and Brendon’s hips are moving of their own accord, he’s lost practically all control and he can’t believe it feels this good, that it feels like this.
It’s not slow anymore, it feels like there’s a tidal wave inside of him and just as it’s threatening to break, just as he’s standing at the brink of orgasm, Spencer abruptly pulls his hand away.
Brendon feels like crying, but he merely grabs at Spencer’s hands, hair, whatever he can reach, and tries to communicate morepleasenow with only whimpering sounds. Resting on his heels, Spencer dodges Brendon’s hands long enough to put a condom on, rub some lube onto his dick and then he’s back.
Lining himself up, Spencer kisses Brendon quiet and then pushes slowly inside. And Brendon knows dying is an exaggeration, but Spencer’s not moving and Brendon’s so close, like millimeters away, and Spencer is just watching him, blue eyes deep.
Finally, Spencer starts to move, eyes still on Brendon’s, fingers digging into Brendon’s hips. His thrusts get a little harder, a little faster, with each one, until Brendon is wrapping a hand in his hair and kissing him hard, teeth biting at his lips, and coming.
And it lasts forever and Brendon’s thoughts revolve around girls are awesome and SpencerSpencerSpencer. He’s still going through the aftershocks, legs still wrapped around Spencer’s hips when Spencer’s thrusts take on a frantic touch. Mouth pressed against Brendon’s, they’re not really kissing, merely breathing together and with one last snap of his hips Spencer is following Brendon over the ledge.
A few more thrusts and Spencer is spent, collapsing into Brendon, who grunts and pushes him over.
“Watch the boobs,” Brendon mutters and curls into Spencer anyway. After a long minute, Spencer disentangles himself with a groan and trashes the condom. He pulls the covers back on his way in and curls himself back into Brendon.
“Spencer Smith,” Brendon says after a while, mouth pressed to the skin at Spencer’s shoulder. “You are a sex god.”
Spencer just laughs and tugs the covers over them.
So Good For Me
Brendon/Spencer
NC-17
Brendon wakes up a girl on Tuesday and he’s really not happy. Still pretty, he insists when Ryan just sort of stares, but not at all happy. Nobody actually seems to mind, though, besides Ryan who goes on about lead singer, can’t fucking believe this and you have got to be kidding me.
But Brendon checks and his body may have changed, he’s got slightly wider hips and boobs, yea, but his voice hasn’t changed. He can hit the same notes and it’s like nothing has even changed. Except the part where he’s a girl.
Jon votes they take advantage of the situation.
“I mean, you’re a girl,” he says with a smile, like this happens every day, but Brendon knows he’s joking, really hopes he’s joking. Spencer’s giving him one of those Spencer looks and Brendon snaps, “I know,” and goes to his room.
It doesn’t take long for someone to follow him, her, and he’s upset enough that he totally forgets to time it.
“You’re kind of hot,” Spencer says once he’s sitting on the bed, legs crossed and facing Brendon. He gives Spencer his best “fuck off and die” look, but Spencer doesn’t even flinch. He just shrugs, says, “At least your pants still fit.”
And really, they do. Everything fits the same way it always did, but Brendon’s a girl. Everything fits the same way it always did, everything but Brendon.
Brendon lays back, curls up as much as he can without kicking, or even touching Spencer.
“I’m a girl, Spence,” he mumbles into his pillow and he’s not even sure Spencer hears him. But then there’s a solid warmth at his back and Spencer is wrapping an arm around his middle, fingers sliding beneath his shirt and rubbing soothing circles into his skin.
“Yea,” Spencer agrees, voice soft. And Spencer must be at a loss for words because he doesn’t continue, just runs his fingers across Brendon’s belly. His movements are getting larger and larger, straying from the edge of Brendon’s waistband all the way up to the edge of his boobs and Brendon’s not sure if the movements are deliberate or Spencer is just being nice, being calming.
Either way, an odd sort of heat starts pooling in his groin, similar to what he’d felt before when he’d still had his dick. But this is different, this is more subtle, not nearly as immediate and he can feel it building slowly.
Brendon’s concentrating on the feel of Spencer’s fingers and the heat when he notices that Spencer’s hard. He can feel Spencer’s erection right in the curve of his ass, can’t help moving back, squirming further into Spencer’s body.
“Spence?” Spencer hums a little, fingers running ever closer to his new boobs. They’re curving through circles and swirls and Brendon sucks in hard when one barely touches the upward slope and then quickly retreats. His next words become a silent slur of ohgodplease as Spencer’s touches get more daring.
Spencer’s mouth opens against the back of Brendon’s neck at the same time his finger finally, finally, brushes against Brendon’s nipple.
Brendon arches into him, hands gripping folds of blankets and the edge of his pillow. It doesn’t take long, a few wet kisses, soft bites, against the side of his neck before Brendon is twisting around, making it easier to get at Spencer’s mouth.
Biting at Brendon’s lip, Spencer rolls him onto his back and lowers himself between Brendon’s legs, legs that fall open of their own accord, Brendon swears to himself. And he hasn’t really changed, not too much, but he’s got a little bit of curve now and he just feels softer somehow, feels it as Spencer sinks against him.
He lifts one leg around Spencer’s hip, pulls him in closer, and kisses his way down Spencer’s neck, biting at his collarbone and hoping to leave a mark.
With Brendon’s mouth still on his neck, Spencer slips a hand into Brendon’s sleep pants, rubs lightly at his hip. But when Brendon tilts his head back up, mouth searching Spencer’s, Spencer pulls back, too far even when Brendon starts to follow.
Eyes wide, Brendon tries not to feel hurt, tries not to show Spencer that he’s hurt.
“You want to do this?” His voice is serious, really serious, and Brendon snorts, looks away, but Spencer doesn’t move, just waits. Finally, Brendon lifts his hips up a little, pushes them against Spencer’s in an obvious yes, please.
And Spencer doesn’t say anything, but it’s in the responding thrust of his hips and the tiny, almost smile on his face. Brendon can see it in his eyes, feel it in fingers on his hip.
“Yes,” Brendon says after a while, after Spencer has rid him of his shirt, gently cupped his brand new boobs in both hands and kissed his way from Brendon’s waistband, tugged lightly at his nipples with his teeth, and finally ends with wet, almost sloppy kisses on his mouth. And he’s not even sure what he’s agreeing to, everything probably, everything Spencer-shaped and he says it again, confident and sure, “Yes.”
Spencer’s fumbling in Brendon’s bedside table, absolutely sure that he’ll find lube, condoms, and Brendon would blush if he wasn’t so turned on, so ready, but he is and he’s far past caring.
He’s tugging at the hem of Spencer’s shirt, desperately wanting it gone, but nowhere near coordinated enough to do anything other than tug. Spencer’s mouth is on his, Spencer’s hands are pushing at his pants, and Spencer’s dick is pressed tight against him and Brendon is having enough trouble trying to breathe, he can’t manage the obstacles of shirts and pants and he sighs in delight when Spencer finally discards all the extra layers.
“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer,” Brendon chants as Spencer moves his fingers over the inside of his thighs, not quite where Brendon needs him to be. When Spencer continues stroking his side with one hand and the other stays resolutely away from Brendon’s clit or anything else that would actually help get Brendon off, he adds a desperate, “Please. Spencer, please.”
With a short laugh, one that quickly turns into a moan as Brendon wraps a hand around his dick, Spencer rubs his fingers along Brendon’s outer lips and then slowly tucks one inside of Brendon as another flicks occasionally across his clit. And Spencer has really, really, nice fingers. So nice and Brendon doesn’t even bother to stop the sounds that escape him, soft whimpers and tiny keening noises.
And then Spencer is pressing a second finger inside of him, working them slowly and Brendon’s hips are moving of their own accord, he’s lost practically all control and he can’t believe it feels this good, that it feels like this.
It’s not slow anymore, it feels like there’s a tidal wave inside of him and just as it’s threatening to break, just as he’s standing at the brink of orgasm, Spencer abruptly pulls his hand away.
Brendon feels like crying, but he merely grabs at Spencer’s hands, hair, whatever he can reach, and tries to communicate morepleasenow with only whimpering sounds. Resting on his heels, Spencer dodges Brendon’s hands long enough to put a condom on, rub some lube onto his dick and then he’s back.
Lining himself up, Spencer kisses Brendon quiet and then pushes slowly inside. And Brendon knows dying is an exaggeration, but Spencer’s not moving and Brendon’s so close, like millimeters away, and Spencer is just watching him, blue eyes deep.
Finally, Spencer starts to move, eyes still on Brendon’s, fingers digging into Brendon’s hips. His thrusts get a little harder, a little faster, with each one, until Brendon is wrapping a hand in his hair and kissing him hard, teeth biting at his lips, and coming.
And it lasts forever and Brendon’s thoughts revolve around girls are awesome and SpencerSpencerSpencer. He’s still going through the aftershocks, legs still wrapped around Spencer’s hips when Spencer’s thrusts take on a frantic touch. Mouth pressed against Brendon’s, they’re not really kissing, merely breathing together and with one last snap of his hips Spencer is following Brendon over the ledge.
A few more thrusts and Spencer is spent, collapsing into Brendon, who grunts and pushes him over.
“Watch the boobs,” Brendon mutters and curls into Spencer anyway. After a long minute, Spencer disentangles himself with a groan and trashes the condom. He pulls the covers back on his way in and curls himself back into Brendon.
“Spencer Smith,” Brendon says after a while, mouth pressed to the skin at Spencer’s shoulder. “You are a sex god.”
Spencer just laughs and tugs the covers over them.