Social Activism
Title: Social Activism (or, How to Make the World a Better Place by Kissing Spencer Smith)
Pairing: Spencer/Gerard
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction, no disrespect intended.
Summary: “This is political,” Gerard announces, and kisses him.
Notes: Written for disarm_d's pornothon, with a disappointing lack of actual porn.
The concert is going to be huge.
Pete calls it the emo-punk Woodstock until they all turn against him, Bill claiming he doesn’t do emo and Ryan refusing to be labeled and Gabe asking who Pete is calling a punk. Then MyChem shows up - which apparently Patrick knew about, but no one else had, and no one knows whether Pete has forgiven him yet - and suddenly they’re not at all sure what genre the concert is supposed to be, just that it’s going to be…well, huge.
Everyone is doing a lot of wandering around on the grounds the morning of the concert, because there’s not a lot to do besides soundchecks and drinking diet sodas, and the major partying already happened last night.
Spencer is walking alongside Jon, talking about how hard it would be to eat Chinese food with drumsticks but how Brendon would probably try to do it anyway if they told him, when they walk into the rough circle of what looks like a fight.
For a second Spencer thinks it’s the Pete/Mikey showdown everyone has been more or less waiting for, but then he realizes it’s actually Gerard and Patrick, in what looks less like a fight and more like an earnest, animated discussion.
“I’m just saying,” Gerard says, and then he sees Spencer and his whole face lights up, like he’s just had a brilliant idea. Spencer starts surreptitiously backing up, but Jon’s behind him and Gerard has hold of his wrist before Spencer decides whether or not to make a break for it.
He’s blinking in apprehension as Gerard drags him into the loose ring of spectators, especially when he glimpses the raised-eyebrow look on Patrick’s face. “Um,” Spencer says nervously, catching Ryan’s eye on the edge of the ring and sending him a pleading look for rescue.
“This is political,” Gerard announces, and kisses him.
Brendon catcalls. Spencer makes a mental note to throw out all of the Capri Sun as soon as he gets back to the bus, and then he goes into full-blown panic mode, because Brendon isn’t the only one. Gabe Saporta is equally enthusiastic, and he’s followed by a whole chorus Spencer can’t even begin to name. One of them is, predictably, Pete Wentz.
And Gerard is still kissing him. Spencer has only known Gerard for about a day, basically waving once in passing and then talking to him last night for a while when everyone else was getting drunk, and he doesn’t think this is necessarily the next logical step in their relationship.
He’s still basically frozen in horror, eyes firmly closed because some part of his brain insists that if he can’t see them, no one else can see him, but Gerard tilts his chin, ridiculous oversized sunglasses bumping Spencer’s cheek, and holy shit, is that his tongue?
Spencer’s eyes fly open, and the first thing he sees (besides Gerard, who is very close up) is Ryan looking caught somewhere between pissed and amused, and Jon not even bothering to pretend he’s not entertained by this, a huge grin on his face.
It’s definitely Gerard’s tongue. Spencer keeps his lips clamped firmly shut - didn’t Gerard already have someone for public displays of (gay) affection? - but Gerard is surprisingly gentle, coaxing and licking very lightly at his lips, and when Spencer doesn’t give in he starts nibbling.
Spencer’s still not sure how Gerard’s tongue ended up successfully penetrating his mouth (he thinks it had something to do with the nibbling), but it’s there now, and they’ve gone past kissing into seriously making out. Spencer’s blush feels hotter than the sun, and he will never live this down. Ever. Even if he tries, the other guys will never let him.
Speaking of. He hasn’t heard any other catcalls, which makes him hope desperately that Brendon (and Ryan and Jon) somehow magically disappeared from this event, but when he cracks his eye open again he sees it’s because Brendon has actually fallen down laughing and is rolling on the grass in a fit of helpless mirth.
All of the Capri Sun and the Red Bull.
Why him? Spencer wonders a bit desperately. Why not William Beckett? He’s more used to the whole gay kissing-fondling-groping thing, and he’s prettier than Spencer is, maybe if Spencer can get Gerard to relinquish his tongue - and his lips, which feel swollen and oh god, he doesn’t want to think about what he’ll look like when they finally break apart - he could suggest Gerard use Bill for this little demonstration instead. Or Gabe. Gabe will kiss anyone. Enthusiastically.
He’s about to try to suggest this, with or without reclaiming his tongue, when Gerard’s hand lands on his ass.
Spencer squeaks. It’s a sound that he never wants to hear again, not from himself, not from anyone watching, and definitely not on youtube, and oh shit, is Pete filming this? Spencer makes another sound, a helpless meep of wordless pleading for this to be over soon, and that’s when Gerard - who has not at all gotten the message that Spencer is not really all that political, thanks - gets a better grip on his ass and squeezes.
If the ground could swallow him, it should do so now. He’s trying to remember the words to the prayers they all said together in Catholic school, only it seems like sacrilege to even be thinking of those now and anyway he can’t find one that seems appropriate to the situation. Over Gerard’s shoulder he sees that Gerard’s band, at least, seems to be of the opinion that this is all par for the course, and maybe it is for them, but this is definitely not Spencer’s course.
Gerard releases him with a triumphant smacking sound as their lips finally tear apart, and now that he’s no longer being held up Spencer stumbles back so fast that he falls on his ass. Gerard’s usual political make-out partner Frank has hit the ground alongside Brendon, giggles blown into all-out howls of laughter. Pete gives him two thumbs up. Jon, who has shown admirable restraint and was in Spencer’s good books until right now, raises his camera and snaps a picture.
The tips of Spencer’s ears have possibly burnt off into ash from humiliation.
Gerard smiles down at him, that sweet giddy smile that makes him look about twelve (and god, Spencer did not need to have that thought just now), and offers Spencer a hand up.
“See?” he says, but he’s actually talking to Patrick, not Spencer, and besides the warm clasp of his hand he makes no move to molest Spencer any further. Spencer isn’t sure whether to be grateful or try to work up some sort of outrage. He can’t be all that outraged, though, while Gerard is still holding onto his hand and talking earnestly to Patrick and Spencer’s lips are still buzzing and kind of, well, numb.
“It’s not whether we personally feel any desire to do it, it’s that we’re saying it’s okay, we’re accepting, and we’re giving them proof that it’s not just talk, we really are okay with it. Kids need that.” Gerard breaks off in the middle of his speech, looking over to smile warmly at Spencer. “Thanks.”
Spencer’s mind is still sort of dazed, and he was raised by a good family who taught him manners and politeness, so his response is automatic. “Anytime.”
Gerard’s smile slowly widens just as Spencer realizes what he’s said. There’s a fresh flush all the way up his neck and Brendon shrieks with laughter, and some very determined part of Spencer tells him that he needs to get back some of his own or he might as well just slink off and die of embarrassment.
Gerard starts to turn back to Patrick and Spencer reaches out, yanks him back in, and smashes their lips together.
Brendon’s laughter abruptly stops. Frank’s doesn’t, but Spencer guesses (hopes) that’s probably because of the startled look on Gerard’s face. It’s not as thorough as their first kiss, but it’s definitely emphatic, and Spencer lets go feeling like he can now possibly walk away from this with a shred of dignity.
Gerard’s lips curl up into another smile. “Thanks,” he says again.
Spencer chooses his words more carefully this time, having learned from his mistakes. “Just…uh, doing my part for social activism.”
Patrick snorts. Spencer heads back to the bus and hopes that his ears stop burning before they actually have to go on in five hours.
Pairing: Spencer/Gerard
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction, no disrespect intended.
Summary: “This is political,” Gerard announces, and kisses him.
Notes: Written for disarm_d's pornothon, with a disappointing lack of actual porn.
The concert is going to be huge.
Pete calls it the emo-punk Woodstock until they all turn against him, Bill claiming he doesn’t do emo and Ryan refusing to be labeled and Gabe asking who Pete is calling a punk. Then MyChem shows up - which apparently Patrick knew about, but no one else had, and no one knows whether Pete has forgiven him yet - and suddenly they’re not at all sure what genre the concert is supposed to be, just that it’s going to be…well, huge.
Everyone is doing a lot of wandering around on the grounds the morning of the concert, because there’s not a lot to do besides soundchecks and drinking diet sodas, and the major partying already happened last night.
Spencer is walking alongside Jon, talking about how hard it would be to eat Chinese food with drumsticks but how Brendon would probably try to do it anyway if they told him, when they walk into the rough circle of what looks like a fight.
For a second Spencer thinks it’s the Pete/Mikey showdown everyone has been more or less waiting for, but then he realizes it’s actually Gerard and Patrick, in what looks less like a fight and more like an earnest, animated discussion.
“I’m just saying,” Gerard says, and then he sees Spencer and his whole face lights up, like he’s just had a brilliant idea. Spencer starts surreptitiously backing up, but Jon’s behind him and Gerard has hold of his wrist before Spencer decides whether or not to make a break for it.
He’s blinking in apprehension as Gerard drags him into the loose ring of spectators, especially when he glimpses the raised-eyebrow look on Patrick’s face. “Um,” Spencer says nervously, catching Ryan’s eye on the edge of the ring and sending him a pleading look for rescue.
“This is political,” Gerard announces, and kisses him.
Brendon catcalls. Spencer makes a mental note to throw out all of the Capri Sun as soon as he gets back to the bus, and then he goes into full-blown panic mode, because Brendon isn’t the only one. Gabe Saporta is equally enthusiastic, and he’s followed by a whole chorus Spencer can’t even begin to name. One of them is, predictably, Pete Wentz.
And Gerard is still kissing him. Spencer has only known Gerard for about a day, basically waving once in passing and then talking to him last night for a while when everyone else was getting drunk, and he doesn’t think this is necessarily the next logical step in their relationship.
He’s still basically frozen in horror, eyes firmly closed because some part of his brain insists that if he can’t see them, no one else can see him, but Gerard tilts his chin, ridiculous oversized sunglasses bumping Spencer’s cheek, and holy shit, is that his tongue?
Spencer’s eyes fly open, and the first thing he sees (besides Gerard, who is very close up) is Ryan looking caught somewhere between pissed and amused, and Jon not even bothering to pretend he’s not entertained by this, a huge grin on his face.
It’s definitely Gerard’s tongue. Spencer keeps his lips clamped firmly shut - didn’t Gerard already have someone for public displays of (gay) affection? - but Gerard is surprisingly gentle, coaxing and licking very lightly at his lips, and when Spencer doesn’t give in he starts nibbling.
Spencer’s still not sure how Gerard’s tongue ended up successfully penetrating his mouth (he thinks it had something to do with the nibbling), but it’s there now, and they’ve gone past kissing into seriously making out. Spencer’s blush feels hotter than the sun, and he will never live this down. Ever. Even if he tries, the other guys will never let him.
Speaking of. He hasn’t heard any other catcalls, which makes him hope desperately that Brendon (and Ryan and Jon) somehow magically disappeared from this event, but when he cracks his eye open again he sees it’s because Brendon has actually fallen down laughing and is rolling on the grass in a fit of helpless mirth.
All of the Capri Sun and the Red Bull.
Why him? Spencer wonders a bit desperately. Why not William Beckett? He’s more used to the whole gay kissing-fondling-groping thing, and he’s prettier than Spencer is, maybe if Spencer can get Gerard to relinquish his tongue - and his lips, which feel swollen and oh god, he doesn’t want to think about what he’ll look like when they finally break apart - he could suggest Gerard use Bill for this little demonstration instead. Or Gabe. Gabe will kiss anyone. Enthusiastically.
He’s about to try to suggest this, with or without reclaiming his tongue, when Gerard’s hand lands on his ass.
Spencer squeaks. It’s a sound that he never wants to hear again, not from himself, not from anyone watching, and definitely not on youtube, and oh shit, is Pete filming this? Spencer makes another sound, a helpless meep of wordless pleading for this to be over soon, and that’s when Gerard - who has not at all gotten the message that Spencer is not really all that political, thanks - gets a better grip on his ass and squeezes.
If the ground could swallow him, it should do so now. He’s trying to remember the words to the prayers they all said together in Catholic school, only it seems like sacrilege to even be thinking of those now and anyway he can’t find one that seems appropriate to the situation. Over Gerard’s shoulder he sees that Gerard’s band, at least, seems to be of the opinion that this is all par for the course, and maybe it is for them, but this is definitely not Spencer’s course.
Gerard releases him with a triumphant smacking sound as their lips finally tear apart, and now that he’s no longer being held up Spencer stumbles back so fast that he falls on his ass. Gerard’s usual political make-out partner Frank has hit the ground alongside Brendon, giggles blown into all-out howls of laughter. Pete gives him two thumbs up. Jon, who has shown admirable restraint and was in Spencer’s good books until right now, raises his camera and snaps a picture.
The tips of Spencer’s ears have possibly burnt off into ash from humiliation.
Gerard smiles down at him, that sweet giddy smile that makes him look about twelve (and god, Spencer did not need to have that thought just now), and offers Spencer a hand up.
“See?” he says, but he’s actually talking to Patrick, not Spencer, and besides the warm clasp of his hand he makes no move to molest Spencer any further. Spencer isn’t sure whether to be grateful or try to work up some sort of outrage. He can’t be all that outraged, though, while Gerard is still holding onto his hand and talking earnestly to Patrick and Spencer’s lips are still buzzing and kind of, well, numb.
“It’s not whether we personally feel any desire to do it, it’s that we’re saying it’s okay, we’re accepting, and we’re giving them proof that it’s not just talk, we really are okay with it. Kids need that.” Gerard breaks off in the middle of his speech, looking over to smile warmly at Spencer. “Thanks.”
Spencer’s mind is still sort of dazed, and he was raised by a good family who taught him manners and politeness, so his response is automatic. “Anytime.”
Gerard’s smile slowly widens just as Spencer realizes what he’s said. There’s a fresh flush all the way up his neck and Brendon shrieks with laughter, and some very determined part of Spencer tells him that he needs to get back some of his own or he might as well just slink off and die of embarrassment.
Gerard starts to turn back to Patrick and Spencer reaches out, yanks him back in, and smashes their lips together.
Brendon’s laughter abruptly stops. Frank’s doesn’t, but Spencer guesses (hopes) that’s probably because of the startled look on Gerard’s face. It’s not as thorough as their first kiss, but it’s definitely emphatic, and Spencer lets go feeling like he can now possibly walk away from this with a shred of dignity.
Gerard’s lips curl up into another smile. “Thanks,” he says again.
Spencer chooses his words more carefully this time, having learned from his mistakes. “Just…uh, doing my part for social activism.”
Patrick snorts. Spencer heads back to the bus and hopes that his ears stop burning before they actually have to go on in five hours.