No Circumstances Could Excuse | Spencer/Brendon | NC-17 | ~ 5200 words | AU
No Circumstances Could Excuse
Brendon/Spencer | NC-17 (for sexuality, violence, and disturbing content) | ~ 5 200 words | AU
"I could be the bad guy," Spencer offers.
Many, many thanks to theaerosolkid and sociofemme. Thanks also to everyone of my flist who was supportive when I first threatened to write this. I GUESS YOU'VE LEARNED YOUR LESSON NOW, /o\
Author notes: This is really fucking ridiculous, and I'm sure that it's not going to be most people's cup of tea.
Warnings for violence and disturbing content and fucked up relationship dynamics. This is squicky in all sorts of different ways. SO SQUICKY! Don't read it if you think it's going to upset you.
Warnings: [Contains spoilers! Rollover text.] Spencer is a serial killer. Brendon is his boyfriend. Spencer kills someone on screen, and many people off screen. There is also implied child abuse (in the form of hints about Brendon's past). Does, "I've watched too much Dexter," count as a warning? [/Spoilers!]
"Can you pass me the--" Brendon looks over. They're got three knife blocks on the counter and a whole drawer filled with knives besides. "Pass me-- Whatever, just pass me a small one, please."
Spencer passes one over and Brendon starts cutting the zucchini into rounds. Spencer has so many knives because he goes hunting sometimes. He needs knives that will cut through animal bones.
Brendon finishes slicing the zucchinis and carries them over to the frying pan, drops them in.
"You want a red pepper, too?" he asks.
"I don't know," Spencer says. "How hungry are you?"
"I dunno," Brendon says. He rolls his shoulders and sighs. "It was really fucking busy at the Smoothie Hut today, and I didn't get a chance to break for lunch. I guess I'm hungry." He's tired now, mostly. The heat from the stove is nice.
Spencer walks up behind him and wraps his hands around Brendon's shoulders, fingers digging in. The muscles are tender and Spencer's fingers are just on this side of painful, and it feels amazing. Brendon drops his head, arches back against Spencer. He rests his fingers on the corner of the stove to keep his balance.
Spencer squeezes again, then lets go of Brendon's shoulders, wraps one arm around Brendon, his palm resting flat across Brendon's chest, and pulls Brendon flush against him. Brendon sags back.
"I'll give you a back rub after supper," Spencer says.
"'kay," says Brendon. "Thanks."
Spencer gives Brendon back rubs sometimes, even though he'll never let Brendon return the favour. Spencer's got a really huge personal space bubble. He makes an effort though. It's easier for him if he's the one doing the touching.
"Being the manager means that you're supposed to tell someone else to work so that you can go and eat," Spencer says.
"Being the manager of a Smoothie Hut means that all of my employees are high school students," Brendon says. "I think there would be a revolt if I told them they couldn't have a break. That's when they get to sit in the parking lot and make gooey eyes at each other; it's the most important part of their days."
"Softie," says Spencer.
He bends his neck to rest his chin on Brendon's shoulder. Brendon holds still in hopes that Spencer won't move away.
"You want me to come by tomorrow and bring you lunch? I'll be the bad guy," Spencer offers, "who drags you away and makes them keep working."
Spencer does data entry for an insurance company so it doesn't matter what time he takes his breaks.
"I think it'll be okay," Brendon says. "What are the chances of it being that busy two days in a row?"
Spencer shrugs. Brendon can feel the movement because they're pressed so close together.
"You could come by, anyway. I'll make you a smoothie. Get you away from the computer and in contact with actual human beings."
"I prefer the computer," Spencer says. "I've heard your horror stories about customers."
"That's a good point," Brendon says. The tip of his shoe is stained pink from when a customer let her son dump his smoothie on the floor this afternoon. Brendon put his shoes in the closet when he got home, hiding them under another pair so that Spencer wouldn't notice. Spencer's kind of fanatical about cleaning and Brendon didn't want him to worry about cleaning the stain. Brendon will try and clean the shoe sometime when Spencer isn't around. Spencer doesn't seem to understand the definition of work clothes; if Brendon can't wipe off the spot, Spencer will probably make him buy new shoes instead of going around in shoes that are stained.
"I'll come see you though," Spencer says. "I'm pretty fond of you."
Brendon turns his head and pecks Spencer on the cheek because he can't reach his mouth from this angle. Brendon moves too quickly, though, doesn't give Spencer enough warning, and Spencer flinches a little.
"I think these are done," Brendon says, nodding toward the frying pan. "I guess we don't want peppers. Can you get the chicken out of the oven?"
Spencer tightens his arm around Brendon's chest, holds him close for a moment then lets him go and makes his way over to the oven.
Brendon carries the frying pan over to their table and divides the zucchini between the two plates.
--
\\
--
Spencer comes into the store just before one. Brendon has sweated through his uniform already. He's just glad that he doesn't have to wear a baseball cap like the kids do; he'd be really fucking hot with that. As it is, the button up shirt with the Smoothie Hut logo stitched across the breast feels constrictive.
Brendon sees Spencer standing outside the door, watching him through the window. He smiles, but Spencer doesn't seem to notice him. Spencer does the same thing every time he enters the store: lingers outside and looks in the window first, takes his time actually coming through the door. Even once he's inside, he holds back, waiting for Brendon to call out, "Hey, Spence," before he finally comes up to the counter.
"It seems less busy today," Spencer notes, drumming his fingers absently on the counter as he looks around the room.
"It is," Brendon agrees. "I'll make you a smoothie then we could go outside, maybe?"
Spencer nods.
Brendon turns around and starts working on Spencer's smoothie. He used to try and come up with new drinks each time Spencer came in, but those ended up tasting like shit more often than not, so now he just sticks to the same thing: raspberries, blackberries, banana, and bee pollen. Bee pollen is the only 'healthy additive' that Spencer doesn't hate.
Brendon runs the blender, and when he finishes, he turns to find Spencer making awkward small talk with the kid working with Brendon. Cash is smiling and gesturing dramatically, and Spencer is slouched over, his hands tucked in his pockets. He's making an effort, even though he hates kids, and Brendon appreciates the sentiment. It used to be even more awkward when Spencer would come in and just glower at everyone while he waited for Brendon.
Cash says something that makes Spencer smile. A real smile, not a slight, pinched upturn of the corners of his mouth. He's not grinning, but he's smiling for real, just from talking to this high school kid. It took Brendon weeks before Spencer smiled for real with him.
Brendon comes up beside Spencer and passes him the smoothie, cutting Cash off in the middle of a sentence.
"The floors better be mopped before I get back," Brendon says and leads Spencer out the door.
He's tempted to put his hand on Spencer's lower back or to try and hold his hand, maybe, but Spencer doesn't really like to be touched, especially not when they're out in public, so Brendon keeps his hands to himself.
"Thanks for coming," he says.
Spencer nods, then drinks from his smoothie. "This is good," Spencer says. "I like it when you don't put any weird shit in it."
"I know," Brendon says.
--
//
--
"We have to go and get our driver's licenses renewed," Brendon says over dinner.
Brendon didn't have a driver's license until he met Spencer. He and Spencer chipped in for this piece of shit used car that Brendon loves dearly, and Spencer waited outside the building while Brendon went inside to take his driver's test.
As far as Brendon knows, Spencer's own license is long expired. He keeps saying that he'll just wait until Brendon needs to renew his and then they can go in together. He takes the bus to work and lets Brendon drive the car when they go to get groceries. Spencer just uses the car sometimes when he wants to go for a drive by himself at night.
"Jesus, I know that," Spencer snaps, pushing his plate away. "Don't fucking nag me."
Brendon sets his fork onto the table carefully, exhales slowly. A few years and a whole new city, but still the sound of raised voices makes Brendon's heart start thudding in his chest.
"You can go renew yours anytime you want," Spencer says in this tightly controlled tone of voice. He knows that Brendon hates yelling and he does the best he can. "I'll take care of myself."
Brendon's water glass is sweating, and the ice clinks around when he picks the glass up. He takes a couple of sips, then sets it back down on the table.
"I thought you said we were going together," Brendon says.
Spencer shoves his chair away from the table so hard that it knocks over, falling backward onto the ground.
Spencer stands and Brendon says, "Sorry," but Spencer's already walking away.
Brendon wants to go after him. Each time that Spencer walks away, Brendon's afraid that he's going to keep walking out the door and that he's not going to come back. It's a stupid thing to think, because this is Spencer's house. He's the one who paid for it. He's been living here longer than Brendon has. It would be easier to just kick Brendon out.
Brendon listens to Spencer slam the door to his den and considers following after him, but the den is Spencer's place and Brendon isn't supposed to go in that room, not when Spencer's there and definitely not when he gone.
Brendon feels this muted panic and then he feels the itch of anger. He picks up his plate and throws it onto the floor, then throws Spencer's plate as well. They both break,the glass shattering loudly.
Brendon wants Spencer to come back and see what he's done. He also thinks that he'd better hurry to clean it up before Spencer gets back. He stands frozen, but Spencer doesn't come and he doesn't come, and then it's clear that he isn't going to come, and in the end Brendon cleans up the mess but he takes his time.
--
Brendon stays in the kitchen until three am, sitting at the table, tracing along the grain of the wood with his finger.
Spencer finally comes out of the den.
"Come to bed," Spencer says.
Brendon nods, and follows him to their bedroom and into the bathroom. They stand in front of the mirror and take turns brushing their teeth.
Spencer puts on pyjamas, full pjs with long sleeves and long pants because that's what he likes wearing, even in the heat of the summer. Brendon strips down to his boxers.
"I'm not renewing my license," Spencer says. "You can have the car."
Brendon nods.
"It's already in your name, anyway," Spencer says. "It's just easier this way."
"Okay," Brendon says. "Thanks."
They lie down in bed and Brendon tries to fall asleep. He's all twitchy and it's hard to keep still. He doesn't know if Spencer has fallen asleep yet and he keeps listening carefully, trying to gauge from Spencer's breathing if he's still awake. It's easier to fall asleep when Brendon knows that Spencer's already sleeping. He's pretty sure that Spencer's still awake right now.
Brendon has to be up in a couple of hours for work. Maybe it'll be quiet and he can sneak off to nap in the back office. Brendon's good at functioning without much sleep, though. It'll be fine.
--
\\
--
Brendon goes to work and he doesn't manage a nap, but he does steal a couple of twenty minute breaks, and just having time alone to himself helps.
He stops at the driver's bureau on the way home and renews his license, then he pops into the grocery story to buy a dozen cupcakes because he wants to have something nice to bring back to Spencer.
When he gets home, there's a message on the answering machine from Spencer, saying that his boss gave him a pile of forms to get through, so he won't be home until late. Brendon calls the office, wanting to ask Spencer if he should save some supper for him, but the receptionist has already gone home and Spencer doesn't pick up when Brendon dials his extension directly. Spencer hates talking on the phone.
Brendon eats in front of the TV.
--
Spencer comes back home and calls out, "Brendon?"
"I'm watching TV," Brendon answers.
There's a brief pause while Spencer takes off his coat and shoes, then he walks across the house to find Brendon. He leans down to peck Brendon on the forehead, then on the lips when Brendon tilts his head up for a real kiss.
"How was your day?" Spencer asks.
"Good," Brendon says. He wonders if he should tell Spencer that he renewed his license, but decides to just leave it alone. He doesn't want to pick another fight. "Have you eaten?"
"I'm alright," Spencer says. "You got my message, right? You didn't wait for me?"
Brendon nods. He reaches for the channel changer and turns off the TV.
"I got something for dessert," Brendon says. "I don't know if you feel like something sweet." Brendon likes sugar-foods better than Spencer does. He should have got something else for Spencer to eat; he doesn't know why he didn't think of that at the grocery store.
Spencer nods and they walk to the kitchen together. Spencer pours them each a tall glass of milk, and they sit beside each other at the table. Brendon licks all of the icing off of his cupcake then helps Spencer finish his icing.
"This was a good idea," Spencer says.
He reaches for a second cupcake and Brendon beams at him. Spencer seems relaxed and he even nudges his foot over so that his ankle rubs up against Brendon's. Brendon likes it when Spencer gets like this, like somehow being away for the house for a little while makes it easier for Spencer to be here with him.
Brendon leans his head sideways onto Spencer's shoulder, and Spencer doesn't pull away.
--
They go to bed early.
Once they're both under the covers, Spencer reaches for him, slides his hand along Brendon's bare stomach, then grabs his hip and rolls Brendon over, pressing him face down into the mattress.
Brendon spreads his legs and tries to keep his breathing steady. He lifts his hips so that Spencer can take off his boxers. Spencer reaches across him and grabs the bottle of lube from the bedside table, and then there are the wet sounds of him slicking himself up. He clamps his fingers around Brendon's hips and Brendon bites his forearm to muffle the sound when Spencer pushes inside.
It hurts in the bright, sharp way. Spencer fucks him with short thrusts, his cock jabbing inside and Brendon wants Spencer to touch him somewhere other than his hips. He wants to be able to feel Spencer's body pressed up against his. He hides his face in the crook of his arm.
Brendon likes this kind of pain; it feels clean. Spencer fucks him harder and the bed moves. Brendon's body moves, jarred forward when Spencer fucks him hard, but Spencer's hands pull him back, yank him onto Spencer's cock. It burns. The stretch of taking Spencer burns white, but it's good. Spencer's fucking him and grunting. They don't have sex all that often but Brendon's going to be feeling this for days.
He manages to wiggle one hand down, wrapping it around his cock and orgasm crests easily after he strokes a few times. It's easy to come like this, easy to come with this much sensation.
Spencer pulls out, and Brendon lies still and listens to him jerk off. Spencer can't come just from being inside of Brendon; he needs to use his own hand. Brendon stays still and Spencer comes and it's wet and warm on his skin even though it starts cooling quickly.
Brendon's hand is still trapped under his body, and his cock is getting hard. He starts jerking himself off again, listens to Spencer panting behind him. He can feel Spencer's come on his ass and on his lower back and his upper thighs and he probably smells like Spencer right now. He feels like he's still open from Spencer's cock, and the sharp pain from before has turned into the ache that comes from being fucked. Brendon presses his face into the pillow and moves his hand quickly, working to come fast, to come before Spencer moves.
He comes again and rolls onto his side. Spencer lies down, pulling the blankets up over both of them.
Brendon's gotten the bed all sticky, underneath him from when he came, on the sheets from where Spencer's come is still wet on his back.
He tucks his hand under his head and looks at Spencer, who's lying on his back on his own side of the bed.
"I love you," Brendon says. It's dark and he's not wearing his glasses, but he thinks he can see Spencer smile.
"You too," says Spencer.
--
//
--
"You can pick the movie," Spencer says.
"Okay if it's Spinal Tap again?" Brendon asks.
Spencer nods.
Brendon puts in the DVD and then sits beside Spencer on the couch, their feet in a line on the footstool in front of them.
Spencer's got a blanket resting over his legs, and Brendon has one wrapped around his shoulders. He reaches out and holds on lightly to the edge of Spencer's blanket, in lieu of actually touching Spencer. Spencer hates it when he gets clingy.
They watch the movie, and Brendon sings along quietly. He sings louder when Spencer looks over at him and grins, not just smiles, grins.
The movie ends and they both stay still. Brendon continues fingering the edge of Spencer's blanket until Spencer reaches out, catching Brendon's hand in both of his own, his fingers curling tightly around Brendon's. Brendon's chest does that happy clenchy thing, just like it always does when Spencer initiates contact.
--
\\
--
Brendon wakes up in the middle of the night, sweating profusely, his heart hammering in his chest. He sits up in a panic and tries to shake off sleep, to stop dreaming.
He leans back against the wall. Spencer's still asleep, Brendon thinks. He's lying quietly, anyway.
Brendon closes his eyes and tries to distract himself. He tries to remember the order of the smoothies on the menu; that usually does the trick when he wants to turn off his brain. It's not working tonight though. His heart won't stop pounding and his head aches, his hair wet from sweat.
He gets that prickly feeling behind his eyelids. He closes his eyes more tightly, but it doesn't help.
He wipes his cheeks and wipes his cheeks and waits for it to stop, but he can't calm himself back down. He covers his face with his hands and digs his fingernails into his forehead.
He doesn't realize that Spencer's awake until he hears him say, "I hate it when you get like this," in a weary voice.
"I know," Brendon says, wiping his face again. He tries to control his breathing better, to make it quieter at least. "Me too." If he could be the kind of person who didn't wake up crying in the middle of the night, he would.
Spencer rolls over.
--
//
--
"What do you want to do tonight?" Brendon asks as they stand in front of the sink, drying the supper dishes.
It's Friday and Spencer still seems happy, even though it's been a few days now since he came home late from work.
"You have something in mind?" Spencer asks.
Brendon shrugs. "Maybe we could go out," he says. They don't go out a lot; Spencer doesn't like crowds.
Spencer thinks for a minute, then says, "Yeah, we could do that."
"Yeah?" Brendon asks, his voice coming out more excited than he means it to. "I'll drive and then we can leave any time we want. I know you hate waiting for cabs."
"That sounds good," Spencer says. He dries a plate and then puts it in the cupboard. "I'm going to go take a shower before we leave."
--
Brendon doesn't know hardly anywhere to go, so it's just good luck that they end up at a relatively quiet bar. He hadn't lived in this city long before he got together with Spencer, and since meeting Spencer he hasn't had much reason to check out the city's nightlife. Spencer doesn't seem to have any preference; he just shrugged when Brendon suggested places.
Brendon sits at the booth and Spencer brings a pitcher of beer back from the bar.
Brendon sips his slowly, mindful that he still has to drive home. The music is loud so he and Spencer can't talk much, but it's still fun to be here. The music's pretty decent and there are a few people dancing in the middle of the room. Brendon wonders if Spencer would dance with him. Probably not in front of other people like this. Brendon's a fucking awkward dancer, anyway.
Spencer finishes his beer, and Brendon pours him another.
"Thanks," Spencer says.
"Is this okay?" Brendon checks.
Spencer nods and says, "Yeah, it's good."
--
"I'm going to go to the bathroom," Spencer says.
"I'll get the car and meet you around front," Brendon says. Spencer pecks him quickly on the cheek and then starts off toward the washrooms.
Brendon is walking toward the parking lot when he can hear footsteps following behind him. He raises his head, speeds up, but the footsteps move faster as well, and then there's a hand on his shoulders, spinning him around, and fuck. How is Brendon not better at this? Given how many times he got mugged when he was 17 and in between residences, Brendon would have thought he'd actually learn something about avoiding trouble, but here he is.
The guy says, "Faggot." Says, "I saw you in there," and punches Brendon in the face. He hits Brendon's cheekbone and his knuckle catches the corner of Brendon's eye and it hurts like fuck.
Brendon should fight back. He thinks that he should fight back. He's an adult now; he's not that much smaller than this guy. He lashes out, but he misses and the guy uses the opportunity to punch him in the stomach. Brendon opens his mouth and makes this whooshing sound.
He wheezes and tries to catch his breath, but the guy hits him again and Brendon can't think straight to try and fight back. His body takes over and goes limp, curling in and trying to seem smaller. The guy's just using his hands. It's fine; Brendon's had much worse than this. Maybe Brendon's never learned how to stay out of trouble, but he knows how to take a beating.
The guy is drunk which means that he's hitting hard, but only making contact half the time. Brendon doesn't want to end up on the ground because kicking hurts. Kicking fucking sucks, but the guy hits him in the face and he hits him in the face and Brendon's nose starts bleeding, and then the guy hits him in the stomach and Brendon goes down without meaning to.
The guy kicks him and it hurts and it hurts but Brendon curls in and the guy's mostly just getting his arms and his legs so it's okay, it's not that bad.
The sounds of flesh hitting flesh continue and it takes Brendon a minute to realize that he's not feeling the blows any more. Has he passed out already? It's been a long time since he's been hit; he didn't used to be this much of a baby.
But, no, there're definitely the sounds of a struggle, and Brendon's definitely still conscious. He uncurls his arms, slowly, from where they're covering his face, then looks around, and fuck, the guy is on the ground now and there's someone on top of him, and fuck, fuck, fuck, it's Spencer.
Brendon crawls over, touches Spencer's leg, but Spencer just keeps hitting the guy. The sounds of Spencer's fists on the guy's face are wet and it makes Brendon feel sick to his stomach.
He coughs and tries to tell Spencer that it's okay. He's okay, Spencer can stop now, but Spencer doesn't hear him or he doesn't pay attention, and he keeps hitting the guy, and the guy's head is banging against the concrete, and there are these low crunching noises and blood all over Spencer's hands, dripping down his forearms, and Brendon doesn't know why he's still hitting the guy because the guy hasn't moved in a long time.
Brendon crawls closer, peers over Spencer's shoulder, then moves away quickly when he catches on glimpse at the guy's face.
"Spencer," Brendon says. It's hard to talk; his throat is really fucking sore, and his neck, and his ribs. "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer." Brendon's never seen that much blood, not even when things were at their worst back home. "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer."
Brendon touches Spencer's shoulder and Spencer spins around, and for half a second Brendon thinks that Spencer is going to hit him now, but he doesn't. He just stares at Brendon, and then turns back and hits the guy some more.
Brendon crawls away and sits down on the pavement, far enough from Spencer that he doesn't have to see the guy anymore, even though he can still hear the noises. He tries to wipe the blood off his face, but once his nose starts bleeding it's hard to get it to stop and Brendon's hands are wet and slimy long before his face is any cleaner.
He looks up and Spencer is standing in front of him. Spencer reaches out his hand and it's covered in blood, but Brendon's hands are all bloody, too, so what does it matter? He takes Spencer's hand and Spencer pulls him to his feet.
Brendon says, "We have to go, the police will be here soon."
"You okay?" Spencer asks.
Brendon nods, and says again, "Spence, we have to go."
There's a body on the ground some feet away from them, but Brendon tries to look at Spencer instead of at the mess on the pavement.
"Go get the car," Spencer says.
"What?"
"Get the car," Spencer says. He touches Brendon's shoulder to focus his attention. "Brendon, get the car and come back here for me."
Brendon stares blankly, but when Spencer repeats his name, he nods.
Spencer lets go and Brendon walks toward the car. He thinks it hurts to walk, but he's not sure because the buzzing in his ears is overwhelming all of his other senses.
He gets to the car and he wipes away the blood that's dripping down his forehead and into his eyes. He puts the key in the ignition and turns the car on and drives slowly back to Spencer and Spencer, fuck, Spencer lifts up the body and yells for Brendon to open the trunk and Brendon does.
"We should have left it for the police," Brendon says when Spencer settles into the passenger seat.
"People saw us," Spencer says. "There were witnesses. You want for there to be a body, too?"
Brendon clenches his hand on the steering wheel. "Where should I go?"
Spencer sits quietly for a minute, like he's considering his options. Like there are options about this kind of thing, about where he could go when they have a body to dump.
"We've got the car," Spencer says, like that makes a difference in the decision. "Start driving out of town, I'll tell you where to turn off."
So Brendon starts driving.
--
He has no idea where the fuck they are, but Spencer tells him to turn and to turn and to turn and to keep driving and then they're on this deserted road and Spencer tells him, "Stay in the car."
Spencer's gone for a long time, and Brendon opens the door and steps outside. He just wants to stand for a minute but he ends up walking and he finds Spencer, and Spencer is dragging branches over the body.
"I don't have anything to use to bury him with," Spencer says, looking up at Brendon. "And I want to get you home, soon."
It's dark and Brendon can't see very well, but it seems like the ground is uneven, seems like Brendon is standing on a pile of soil. Brendon steps back quickly, moving too fast so he stumbles, but he doesn't fall, he just scrambles backward.
He runs back to the car and he sits down in the driver's seat and he waits for Spencer.
When Spencer finally gets in again, Brendon opens his mouth, and he asks, "Are there-- Spencer? Spencer, are there other bodies out there?" But Spencer doesn't answer. He just buckles up his seat belt and looks pointedly forward at the road, and Brendon turns the car on and follows Spencer's directions for how to get back to their home.
--
\\
--
Spencer showers and then Brendon showers and then Spencer stands beside Brendon while Brendon looks in the mirror and tries to clean the gravel out of his face.
Brendon touches a cold wash cloth to the skin under his eye, but since his eye is mostly swollen shut anyway it doesn't do much good. He sets the cloth down in the sink.
Spencer takes a step closer and reaches out his arm, curling his fingers possessively around the back of Brendon's neck.
He asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Brendon says. "You showed up before-- I mean, you showed up quickly, so, it's good. I'm fine."
Spencer slides his hand down Brendon's back then grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling up. Brendon raises his arms, even though it makes his ribs throb. He stands and watches Spencer in the mirror, watches while Spencer traces his fingers over the swollen, mottled skin of Brendon's back.
Spencer pushes his fingers into tender skin until Brendon hisses, then he gentles the pressure of his hand.
"I will never let anyone hurt you," Spencer says, touching the nape of Brendon's neck again.
Brendon says, "I know."
Brendon/Spencer | NC-17 (for sexuality, violence, and disturbing content) | ~ 5 200 words | AU
"I could be the bad guy," Spencer offers.
Many, many thanks to theaerosolkid and sociofemme. Thanks also to everyone of my flist who was supportive when I first threatened to write this. I GUESS YOU'VE LEARNED YOUR LESSON NOW, /o\
Author notes: This is really fucking ridiculous, and I'm sure that it's not going to be most people's cup of tea.
Warnings for violence and disturbing content and fucked up relationship dynamics. This is squicky in all sorts of different ways. SO SQUICKY! Don't read it if you think it's going to upset you.
Warnings: [Contains spoilers! Rollover text.] Spencer is a serial killer. Brendon is his boyfriend. Spencer kills someone on screen, and many people off screen. There is also implied child abuse (in the form of hints about Brendon's past). Does, "I've watched too much Dexter," count as a warning? [/Spoilers!]
"Can you pass me the--" Brendon looks over. They're got three knife blocks on the counter and a whole drawer filled with knives besides. "Pass me-- Whatever, just pass me a small one, please."
Spencer passes one over and Brendon starts cutting the zucchini into rounds. Spencer has so many knives because he goes hunting sometimes. He needs knives that will cut through animal bones.
Brendon finishes slicing the zucchinis and carries them over to the frying pan, drops them in.
"You want a red pepper, too?" he asks.
"I don't know," Spencer says. "How hungry are you?"
"I dunno," Brendon says. He rolls his shoulders and sighs. "It was really fucking busy at the Smoothie Hut today, and I didn't get a chance to break for lunch. I guess I'm hungry." He's tired now, mostly. The heat from the stove is nice.
Spencer walks up behind him and wraps his hands around Brendon's shoulders, fingers digging in. The muscles are tender and Spencer's fingers are just on this side of painful, and it feels amazing. Brendon drops his head, arches back against Spencer. He rests his fingers on the corner of the stove to keep his balance.
Spencer squeezes again, then lets go of Brendon's shoulders, wraps one arm around Brendon, his palm resting flat across Brendon's chest, and pulls Brendon flush against him. Brendon sags back.
"I'll give you a back rub after supper," Spencer says.
"'kay," says Brendon. "Thanks."
Spencer gives Brendon back rubs sometimes, even though he'll never let Brendon return the favour. Spencer's got a really huge personal space bubble. He makes an effort though. It's easier for him if he's the one doing the touching.
"Being the manager means that you're supposed to tell someone else to work so that you can go and eat," Spencer says.
"Being the manager of a Smoothie Hut means that all of my employees are high school students," Brendon says. "I think there would be a revolt if I told them they couldn't have a break. That's when they get to sit in the parking lot and make gooey eyes at each other; it's the most important part of their days."
"Softie," says Spencer.
He bends his neck to rest his chin on Brendon's shoulder. Brendon holds still in hopes that Spencer won't move away.
"You want me to come by tomorrow and bring you lunch? I'll be the bad guy," Spencer offers, "who drags you away and makes them keep working."
Spencer does data entry for an insurance company so it doesn't matter what time he takes his breaks.
"I think it'll be okay," Brendon says. "What are the chances of it being that busy two days in a row?"
Spencer shrugs. Brendon can feel the movement because they're pressed so close together.
"You could come by, anyway. I'll make you a smoothie. Get you away from the computer and in contact with actual human beings."
"I prefer the computer," Spencer says. "I've heard your horror stories about customers."
"That's a good point," Brendon says. The tip of his shoe is stained pink from when a customer let her son dump his smoothie on the floor this afternoon. Brendon put his shoes in the closet when he got home, hiding them under another pair so that Spencer wouldn't notice. Spencer's kind of fanatical about cleaning and Brendon didn't want him to worry about cleaning the stain. Brendon will try and clean the shoe sometime when Spencer isn't around. Spencer doesn't seem to understand the definition of work clothes; if Brendon can't wipe off the spot, Spencer will probably make him buy new shoes instead of going around in shoes that are stained.
"I'll come see you though," Spencer says. "I'm pretty fond of you."
Brendon turns his head and pecks Spencer on the cheek because he can't reach his mouth from this angle. Brendon moves too quickly, though, doesn't give Spencer enough warning, and Spencer flinches a little.
"I think these are done," Brendon says, nodding toward the frying pan. "I guess we don't want peppers. Can you get the chicken out of the oven?"
Spencer tightens his arm around Brendon's chest, holds him close for a moment then lets him go and makes his way over to the oven.
Brendon carries the frying pan over to their table and divides the zucchini between the two plates.
--
\\
--
Spencer comes into the store just before one. Brendon has sweated through his uniform already. He's just glad that he doesn't have to wear a baseball cap like the kids do; he'd be really fucking hot with that. As it is, the button up shirt with the Smoothie Hut logo stitched across the breast feels constrictive.
Brendon sees Spencer standing outside the door, watching him through the window. He smiles, but Spencer doesn't seem to notice him. Spencer does the same thing every time he enters the store: lingers outside and looks in the window first, takes his time actually coming through the door. Even once he's inside, he holds back, waiting for Brendon to call out, "Hey, Spence," before he finally comes up to the counter.
"It seems less busy today," Spencer notes, drumming his fingers absently on the counter as he looks around the room.
"It is," Brendon agrees. "I'll make you a smoothie then we could go outside, maybe?"
Spencer nods.
Brendon turns around and starts working on Spencer's smoothie. He used to try and come up with new drinks each time Spencer came in, but those ended up tasting like shit more often than not, so now he just sticks to the same thing: raspberries, blackberries, banana, and bee pollen. Bee pollen is the only 'healthy additive' that Spencer doesn't hate.
Brendon runs the blender, and when he finishes, he turns to find Spencer making awkward small talk with the kid working with Brendon. Cash is smiling and gesturing dramatically, and Spencer is slouched over, his hands tucked in his pockets. He's making an effort, even though he hates kids, and Brendon appreciates the sentiment. It used to be even more awkward when Spencer would come in and just glower at everyone while he waited for Brendon.
Cash says something that makes Spencer smile. A real smile, not a slight, pinched upturn of the corners of his mouth. He's not grinning, but he's smiling for real, just from talking to this high school kid. It took Brendon weeks before Spencer smiled for real with him.
Brendon comes up beside Spencer and passes him the smoothie, cutting Cash off in the middle of a sentence.
"The floors better be mopped before I get back," Brendon says and leads Spencer out the door.
He's tempted to put his hand on Spencer's lower back or to try and hold his hand, maybe, but Spencer doesn't really like to be touched, especially not when they're out in public, so Brendon keeps his hands to himself.
"Thanks for coming," he says.
Spencer nods, then drinks from his smoothie. "This is good," Spencer says. "I like it when you don't put any weird shit in it."
"I know," Brendon says.
--
//
--
"We have to go and get our driver's licenses renewed," Brendon says over dinner.
Brendon didn't have a driver's license until he met Spencer. He and Spencer chipped in for this piece of shit used car that Brendon loves dearly, and Spencer waited outside the building while Brendon went inside to take his driver's test.
As far as Brendon knows, Spencer's own license is long expired. He keeps saying that he'll just wait until Brendon needs to renew his and then they can go in together. He takes the bus to work and lets Brendon drive the car when they go to get groceries. Spencer just uses the car sometimes when he wants to go for a drive by himself at night.
"Jesus, I know that," Spencer snaps, pushing his plate away. "Don't fucking nag me."
Brendon sets his fork onto the table carefully, exhales slowly. A few years and a whole new city, but still the sound of raised voices makes Brendon's heart start thudding in his chest.
"You can go renew yours anytime you want," Spencer says in this tightly controlled tone of voice. He knows that Brendon hates yelling and he does the best he can. "I'll take care of myself."
Brendon's water glass is sweating, and the ice clinks around when he picks the glass up. He takes a couple of sips, then sets it back down on the table.
"I thought you said we were going together," Brendon says.
Spencer shoves his chair away from the table so hard that it knocks over, falling backward onto the ground.
Spencer stands and Brendon says, "Sorry," but Spencer's already walking away.
Brendon wants to go after him. Each time that Spencer walks away, Brendon's afraid that he's going to keep walking out the door and that he's not going to come back. It's a stupid thing to think, because this is Spencer's house. He's the one who paid for it. He's been living here longer than Brendon has. It would be easier to just kick Brendon out.
Brendon listens to Spencer slam the door to his den and considers following after him, but the den is Spencer's place and Brendon isn't supposed to go in that room, not when Spencer's there and definitely not when he gone.
Brendon feels this muted panic and then he feels the itch of anger. He picks up his plate and throws it onto the floor, then throws Spencer's plate as well. They both break,the glass shattering loudly.
Brendon wants Spencer to come back and see what he's done. He also thinks that he'd better hurry to clean it up before Spencer gets back. He stands frozen, but Spencer doesn't come and he doesn't come, and then it's clear that he isn't going to come, and in the end Brendon cleans up the mess but he takes his time.
--
Brendon stays in the kitchen until three am, sitting at the table, tracing along the grain of the wood with his finger.
Spencer finally comes out of the den.
"Come to bed," Spencer says.
Brendon nods, and follows him to their bedroom and into the bathroom. They stand in front of the mirror and take turns brushing their teeth.
Spencer puts on pyjamas, full pjs with long sleeves and long pants because that's what he likes wearing, even in the heat of the summer. Brendon strips down to his boxers.
"I'm not renewing my license," Spencer says. "You can have the car."
Brendon nods.
"It's already in your name, anyway," Spencer says. "It's just easier this way."
"Okay," Brendon says. "Thanks."
They lie down in bed and Brendon tries to fall asleep. He's all twitchy and it's hard to keep still. He doesn't know if Spencer has fallen asleep yet and he keeps listening carefully, trying to gauge from Spencer's breathing if he's still awake. It's easier to fall asleep when Brendon knows that Spencer's already sleeping. He's pretty sure that Spencer's still awake right now.
Brendon has to be up in a couple of hours for work. Maybe it'll be quiet and he can sneak off to nap in the back office. Brendon's good at functioning without much sleep, though. It'll be fine.
--
\\
--
Brendon goes to work and he doesn't manage a nap, but he does steal a couple of twenty minute breaks, and just having time alone to himself helps.
He stops at the driver's bureau on the way home and renews his license, then he pops into the grocery story to buy a dozen cupcakes because he wants to have something nice to bring back to Spencer.
When he gets home, there's a message on the answering machine from Spencer, saying that his boss gave him a pile of forms to get through, so he won't be home until late. Brendon calls the office, wanting to ask Spencer if he should save some supper for him, but the receptionist has already gone home and Spencer doesn't pick up when Brendon dials his extension directly. Spencer hates talking on the phone.
Brendon eats in front of the TV.
--
Spencer comes back home and calls out, "Brendon?"
"I'm watching TV," Brendon answers.
There's a brief pause while Spencer takes off his coat and shoes, then he walks across the house to find Brendon. He leans down to peck Brendon on the forehead, then on the lips when Brendon tilts his head up for a real kiss.
"How was your day?" Spencer asks.
"Good," Brendon says. He wonders if he should tell Spencer that he renewed his license, but decides to just leave it alone. He doesn't want to pick another fight. "Have you eaten?"
"I'm alright," Spencer says. "You got my message, right? You didn't wait for me?"
Brendon nods. He reaches for the channel changer and turns off the TV.
"I got something for dessert," Brendon says. "I don't know if you feel like something sweet." Brendon likes sugar-foods better than Spencer does. He should have got something else for Spencer to eat; he doesn't know why he didn't think of that at the grocery store.
Spencer nods and they walk to the kitchen together. Spencer pours them each a tall glass of milk, and they sit beside each other at the table. Brendon licks all of the icing off of his cupcake then helps Spencer finish his icing.
"This was a good idea," Spencer says.
He reaches for a second cupcake and Brendon beams at him. Spencer seems relaxed and he even nudges his foot over so that his ankle rubs up against Brendon's. Brendon likes it when Spencer gets like this, like somehow being away for the house for a little while makes it easier for Spencer to be here with him.
Brendon leans his head sideways onto Spencer's shoulder, and Spencer doesn't pull away.
--
They go to bed early.
Once they're both under the covers, Spencer reaches for him, slides his hand along Brendon's bare stomach, then grabs his hip and rolls Brendon over, pressing him face down into the mattress.
Brendon spreads his legs and tries to keep his breathing steady. He lifts his hips so that Spencer can take off his boxers. Spencer reaches across him and grabs the bottle of lube from the bedside table, and then there are the wet sounds of him slicking himself up. He clamps his fingers around Brendon's hips and Brendon bites his forearm to muffle the sound when Spencer pushes inside.
It hurts in the bright, sharp way. Spencer fucks him with short thrusts, his cock jabbing inside and Brendon wants Spencer to touch him somewhere other than his hips. He wants to be able to feel Spencer's body pressed up against his. He hides his face in the crook of his arm.
Brendon likes this kind of pain; it feels clean. Spencer fucks him harder and the bed moves. Brendon's body moves, jarred forward when Spencer fucks him hard, but Spencer's hands pull him back, yank him onto Spencer's cock. It burns. The stretch of taking Spencer burns white, but it's good. Spencer's fucking him and grunting. They don't have sex all that often but Brendon's going to be feeling this for days.
He manages to wiggle one hand down, wrapping it around his cock and orgasm crests easily after he strokes a few times. It's easy to come like this, easy to come with this much sensation.
Spencer pulls out, and Brendon lies still and listens to him jerk off. Spencer can't come just from being inside of Brendon; he needs to use his own hand. Brendon stays still and Spencer comes and it's wet and warm on his skin even though it starts cooling quickly.
Brendon's hand is still trapped under his body, and his cock is getting hard. He starts jerking himself off again, listens to Spencer panting behind him. He can feel Spencer's come on his ass and on his lower back and his upper thighs and he probably smells like Spencer right now. He feels like he's still open from Spencer's cock, and the sharp pain from before has turned into the ache that comes from being fucked. Brendon presses his face into the pillow and moves his hand quickly, working to come fast, to come before Spencer moves.
He comes again and rolls onto his side. Spencer lies down, pulling the blankets up over both of them.
Brendon's gotten the bed all sticky, underneath him from when he came, on the sheets from where Spencer's come is still wet on his back.
He tucks his hand under his head and looks at Spencer, who's lying on his back on his own side of the bed.
"I love you," Brendon says. It's dark and he's not wearing his glasses, but he thinks he can see Spencer smile.
"You too," says Spencer.
--
//
--
"You can pick the movie," Spencer says.
"Okay if it's Spinal Tap again?" Brendon asks.
Spencer nods.
Brendon puts in the DVD and then sits beside Spencer on the couch, their feet in a line on the footstool in front of them.
Spencer's got a blanket resting over his legs, and Brendon has one wrapped around his shoulders. He reaches out and holds on lightly to the edge of Spencer's blanket, in lieu of actually touching Spencer. Spencer hates it when he gets clingy.
They watch the movie, and Brendon sings along quietly. He sings louder when Spencer looks over at him and grins, not just smiles, grins.
The movie ends and they both stay still. Brendon continues fingering the edge of Spencer's blanket until Spencer reaches out, catching Brendon's hand in both of his own, his fingers curling tightly around Brendon's. Brendon's chest does that happy clenchy thing, just like it always does when Spencer initiates contact.
--
\\
--
Brendon wakes up in the middle of the night, sweating profusely, his heart hammering in his chest. He sits up in a panic and tries to shake off sleep, to stop dreaming.
He leans back against the wall. Spencer's still asleep, Brendon thinks. He's lying quietly, anyway.
Brendon closes his eyes and tries to distract himself. He tries to remember the order of the smoothies on the menu; that usually does the trick when he wants to turn off his brain. It's not working tonight though. His heart won't stop pounding and his head aches, his hair wet from sweat.
He gets that prickly feeling behind his eyelids. He closes his eyes more tightly, but it doesn't help.
He wipes his cheeks and wipes his cheeks and waits for it to stop, but he can't calm himself back down. He covers his face with his hands and digs his fingernails into his forehead.
He doesn't realize that Spencer's awake until he hears him say, "I hate it when you get like this," in a weary voice.
"I know," Brendon says, wiping his face again. He tries to control his breathing better, to make it quieter at least. "Me too." If he could be the kind of person who didn't wake up crying in the middle of the night, he would.
Spencer rolls over.
--
//
--
"What do you want to do tonight?" Brendon asks as they stand in front of the sink, drying the supper dishes.
It's Friday and Spencer still seems happy, even though it's been a few days now since he came home late from work.
"You have something in mind?" Spencer asks.
Brendon shrugs. "Maybe we could go out," he says. They don't go out a lot; Spencer doesn't like crowds.
Spencer thinks for a minute, then says, "Yeah, we could do that."
"Yeah?" Brendon asks, his voice coming out more excited than he means it to. "I'll drive and then we can leave any time we want. I know you hate waiting for cabs."
"That sounds good," Spencer says. He dries a plate and then puts it in the cupboard. "I'm going to go take a shower before we leave."
--
Brendon doesn't know hardly anywhere to go, so it's just good luck that they end up at a relatively quiet bar. He hadn't lived in this city long before he got together with Spencer, and since meeting Spencer he hasn't had much reason to check out the city's nightlife. Spencer doesn't seem to have any preference; he just shrugged when Brendon suggested places.
Brendon sits at the booth and Spencer brings a pitcher of beer back from the bar.
Brendon sips his slowly, mindful that he still has to drive home. The music is loud so he and Spencer can't talk much, but it's still fun to be here. The music's pretty decent and there are a few people dancing in the middle of the room. Brendon wonders if Spencer would dance with him. Probably not in front of other people like this. Brendon's a fucking awkward dancer, anyway.
Spencer finishes his beer, and Brendon pours him another.
"Thanks," Spencer says.
"Is this okay?" Brendon checks.
Spencer nods and says, "Yeah, it's good."
--
"I'm going to go to the bathroom," Spencer says.
"I'll get the car and meet you around front," Brendon says. Spencer pecks him quickly on the cheek and then starts off toward the washrooms.
Brendon is walking toward the parking lot when he can hear footsteps following behind him. He raises his head, speeds up, but the footsteps move faster as well, and then there's a hand on his shoulders, spinning him around, and fuck. How is Brendon not better at this? Given how many times he got mugged when he was 17 and in between residences, Brendon would have thought he'd actually learn something about avoiding trouble, but here he is.
The guy says, "Faggot." Says, "I saw you in there," and punches Brendon in the face. He hits Brendon's cheekbone and his knuckle catches the corner of Brendon's eye and it hurts like fuck.
Brendon should fight back. He thinks that he should fight back. He's an adult now; he's not that much smaller than this guy. He lashes out, but he misses and the guy uses the opportunity to punch him in the stomach. Brendon opens his mouth and makes this whooshing sound.
He wheezes and tries to catch his breath, but the guy hits him again and Brendon can't think straight to try and fight back. His body takes over and goes limp, curling in and trying to seem smaller. The guy's just using his hands. It's fine; Brendon's had much worse than this. Maybe Brendon's never learned how to stay out of trouble, but he knows how to take a beating.
The guy is drunk which means that he's hitting hard, but only making contact half the time. Brendon doesn't want to end up on the ground because kicking hurts. Kicking fucking sucks, but the guy hits him in the face and he hits him in the face and Brendon's nose starts bleeding, and then the guy hits him in the stomach and Brendon goes down without meaning to.
The guy kicks him and it hurts and it hurts but Brendon curls in and the guy's mostly just getting his arms and his legs so it's okay, it's not that bad.
The sounds of flesh hitting flesh continue and it takes Brendon a minute to realize that he's not feeling the blows any more. Has he passed out already? It's been a long time since he's been hit; he didn't used to be this much of a baby.
But, no, there're definitely the sounds of a struggle, and Brendon's definitely still conscious. He uncurls his arms, slowly, from where they're covering his face, then looks around, and fuck, the guy is on the ground now and there's someone on top of him, and fuck, fuck, fuck, it's Spencer.
Brendon crawls over, touches Spencer's leg, but Spencer just keeps hitting the guy. The sounds of Spencer's fists on the guy's face are wet and it makes Brendon feel sick to his stomach.
He coughs and tries to tell Spencer that it's okay. He's okay, Spencer can stop now, but Spencer doesn't hear him or he doesn't pay attention, and he keeps hitting the guy, and the guy's head is banging against the concrete, and there are these low crunching noises and blood all over Spencer's hands, dripping down his forearms, and Brendon doesn't know why he's still hitting the guy because the guy hasn't moved in a long time.
Brendon crawls closer, peers over Spencer's shoulder, then moves away quickly when he catches on glimpse at the guy's face.
"Spencer," Brendon says. It's hard to talk; his throat is really fucking sore, and his neck, and his ribs. "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer." Brendon's never seen that much blood, not even when things were at their worst back home. "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer."
Brendon touches Spencer's shoulder and Spencer spins around, and for half a second Brendon thinks that Spencer is going to hit him now, but he doesn't. He just stares at Brendon, and then turns back and hits the guy some more.
Brendon crawls away and sits down on the pavement, far enough from Spencer that he doesn't have to see the guy anymore, even though he can still hear the noises. He tries to wipe the blood off his face, but once his nose starts bleeding it's hard to get it to stop and Brendon's hands are wet and slimy long before his face is any cleaner.
He looks up and Spencer is standing in front of him. Spencer reaches out his hand and it's covered in blood, but Brendon's hands are all bloody, too, so what does it matter? He takes Spencer's hand and Spencer pulls him to his feet.
Brendon says, "We have to go, the police will be here soon."
"You okay?" Spencer asks.
Brendon nods, and says again, "Spence, we have to go."
There's a body on the ground some feet away from them, but Brendon tries to look at Spencer instead of at the mess on the pavement.
"Go get the car," Spencer says.
"What?"
"Get the car," Spencer says. He touches Brendon's shoulder to focus his attention. "Brendon, get the car and come back here for me."
Brendon stares blankly, but when Spencer repeats his name, he nods.
Spencer lets go and Brendon walks toward the car. He thinks it hurts to walk, but he's not sure because the buzzing in his ears is overwhelming all of his other senses.
He gets to the car and he wipes away the blood that's dripping down his forehead and into his eyes. He puts the key in the ignition and turns the car on and drives slowly back to Spencer and Spencer, fuck, Spencer lifts up the body and yells for Brendon to open the trunk and Brendon does.
"We should have left it for the police," Brendon says when Spencer settles into the passenger seat.
"People saw us," Spencer says. "There were witnesses. You want for there to be a body, too?"
Brendon clenches his hand on the steering wheel. "Where should I go?"
Spencer sits quietly for a minute, like he's considering his options. Like there are options about this kind of thing, about where he could go when they have a body to dump.
"We've got the car," Spencer says, like that makes a difference in the decision. "Start driving out of town, I'll tell you where to turn off."
So Brendon starts driving.
--
He has no idea where the fuck they are, but Spencer tells him to turn and to turn and to turn and to keep driving and then they're on this deserted road and Spencer tells him, "Stay in the car."
Spencer's gone for a long time, and Brendon opens the door and steps outside. He just wants to stand for a minute but he ends up walking and he finds Spencer, and Spencer is dragging branches over the body.
"I don't have anything to use to bury him with," Spencer says, looking up at Brendon. "And I want to get you home, soon."
It's dark and Brendon can't see very well, but it seems like the ground is uneven, seems like Brendon is standing on a pile of soil. Brendon steps back quickly, moving too fast so he stumbles, but he doesn't fall, he just scrambles backward.
He runs back to the car and he sits down in the driver's seat and he waits for Spencer.
When Spencer finally gets in again, Brendon opens his mouth, and he asks, "Are there-- Spencer? Spencer, are there other bodies out there?" But Spencer doesn't answer. He just buckles up his seat belt and looks pointedly forward at the road, and Brendon turns the car on and follows Spencer's directions for how to get back to their home.
--
\\
--
Spencer showers and then Brendon showers and then Spencer stands beside Brendon while Brendon looks in the mirror and tries to clean the gravel out of his face.
Brendon touches a cold wash cloth to the skin under his eye, but since his eye is mostly swollen shut anyway it doesn't do much good. He sets the cloth down in the sink.
Spencer takes a step closer and reaches out his arm, curling his fingers possessively around the back of Brendon's neck.
He asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Brendon says. "You showed up before-- I mean, you showed up quickly, so, it's good. I'm fine."
Spencer slides his hand down Brendon's back then grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling up. Brendon raises his arms, even though it makes his ribs throb. He stands and watches Spencer in the mirror, watches while Spencer traces his fingers over the swollen, mottled skin of Brendon's back.
Spencer pushes his fingers into tender skin until Brendon hisses, then he gentles the pressure of his hand.
"I will never let anyone hurt you," Spencer says, touching the nape of Brendon's neck again.
Brendon says, "I know."