Panic Fic - There Ain't No Cure For Love (Brendon/Spencer) -Part One
Title: There Ain't No Cure For Love
Author: jewels667
Fandom/Paring: Panic at the Disco, (Brendon/Spencer)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 21,083
Disclaimer: This story is full of lies, falsehoods, and other distortions of the truth. In other words it's fiction.
Author's Notes: This was written for bandombigbang. Title stolen shamelessly from a Leonard Cohen song. Many thanks to stephanometra and floridapeaches for the beta. This wouldn't exist without the two of you. I hope you both know how much I love you, and I'm sorry for all the comma abuse. :D This is for cheapcrowd. I love you, bb.
Summary: Spencer and Brendon fall awkwardly in love before Pete signs Panic, but Brendon's upbringing and his religious conflicts make it hard for him to adjust. While Brendon struggles with growing up and trying to figure out what's right for him, Spencer tries to move on.
"This is Brendon," Brent says, and Spencer stands up and holds out his hand. Brendon shakes it enthusiastically, his eyes flicking around Spencer's garage.
Brendon is tiny and kind of dorky, with hair that sticks up everywhere, and Spencer can't help but smile at him. When Brendon finally gets done checking out Spencer's garage, he looks at Spencer and smiles back.
Brendon says, "Hey, wow. You have a really pretty smile."
That's when Spencer figures out that he might have a problem.
So, Brendon has this smile, and Spencer's maybe a little bit addicted to bringing it out. Spencer always tells him stupid jokes, or makes sure he compliments Brendon on his playing. Sometimes, when it wouldn't be an outright lie, he even tells Brendon his outfit is cool.
"You play this part," Ryan says seriously.
Brendon grunts and says, "I like the other part better."
"Right," Ryan says, and Spencer can tell he's about to get his bitch on. "But I wrote it and that's my part, so you're going to play this part," Ryan says, pointing to the sheet music.
Brendon says, "Fine, whatever."
"Hey guys," Spencer says, interrupting. "How many guitarists does it take to change a light bulb?" Spencer asks.
Brendon smiles like he knows Spencer's trying to distract Ryan, and Ryan glares because he knows for sure. Spencer says, "Twelve, one to change the bulb and eleven to say they could have done it better."
Brendon laughs, just like Spencer hoped he would, and Ryan crosses his arms over his chest and glares harder. "What?" Spencer says innocently.
"You're supposed to be my best friend," Ryan says.
"I am," Spencer says, and he knows he should feel guilty, but Brendon is still smiling, and he just can't.
So yeah, the smile sort of does ridiculous things to Spencer's insides, and he's not sure if he likes it or not, which would explain why he keeps experimenting with it. Eventually, he's sure he'll come to some kind of conclusion.
Brendon comes over early sometimes. They practice from five to seven, but school lets out at three, and at least three times a week, Brendon is at Spencer's house by three-thirty.
The first time Brendon shows up, Spencer shrugs his shoulders and they go up to Spencer's room to play video games. It somehow becomes a regular thing, and Spencer finds himself looking forward to it now.
Brendon's really good at Smash Brothers, and Spencer's not used to getting his ass kicked, since Ryan is his usual competition. Ryan is hopeless at everything except the guitar.
"I'm thirsty," Brendon says, and Spencer gets up and gets them some Capri Suns, which Spencer insisted his mom start buying when he found out Brendon liked them.
Brendon says, "Thanks," when Spencer gets back, and they play some more.
Ten minutes later, Brendon makes slurping noises with his container. Spencer shoots him a look that clearly conveys how disgusting it sounds, but Brendon smiles around his straw and tries to look innocent.
"That's gross," Spencer says, setting his controller down so he can make a grab for Brendon's empty Capri Sun. Brendon laughs and ducks his head and continues to slurp loudly until Spencer has him half pinned to the bed.
He rips the container from Brendon's hand and Brendon is smiling up at him, his mouth and lips red, and Spencer's not really thinking. Or, well, he is; he's thinking he really, really wants to know what Capri Sun tastes like on Brendon's mouth, and before he gives it much more consideration than that, he leans down and kisses him.
Brendon doesn't struggle or freak out or push at Spencer, but he doesn't kiss him back, either. He lies there, still, lips parted slightly, and Spencer presses closer, kisses him a little harder, and wishes, wishes, wishes that Brendon would open his mouth and kiss him back. Spencer makes a needy noise in the back of his throat, and it's only then that Brendon moves, lays his hand on the side of Spencer's neck gently, and moves his fingers softly against the skin there.
"Spencer," Brendon finally says against Spencer's lips.
Spencer pulls back and looks at Brendon's face. He doesn't see anything there, which is frustrating in and of itself, because Brendon always shows everything he's feeling on his face. "Sorry, sorry," Spencer says, because he just basically attacked Brendon's face, and if Brendon's lack of reaction is anything to go by, he wasn't that into it.
"No, it's okay," Brendon says, his fingers still moving soothingly on Spencer's neck. "I just... we should probably go downstairs. It's almost five."
Spencer sits up and nods.
The following week, Ryan comes into practice with a head cold, and the entire band cringes through the first song.
"Okay, guys. I can't do this today," Ryan says.
Brendon says, "I could take it for today. You know, just to get through practice."
Ryan waves his hand and says, "Yeah, sure. Anything has to be better than this."
It turns out that not only is Brendon proficient on the guitar, and more than decent at the piano, but he can apparently sing his heart out, too.
"Why didn't you say so?" Ryan says, and he'd probably be screeching if he were capable of doing so, as it is, he just sounds...earnest, with an edge of something scarier due to his severe congestion.
Brendon looks like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I... You..." he says, and Spencer pats his shoulder and glares at Ryan as hard as he can.
"We brought him on to play guitar, Ryan," Spencer says, and Ryan rolls his eyes toward the ceiling with an expression that clearly says he wishes he weren't surrounded by idiots.
"Well fuck, Spencer, everyone knows I can't sing."
Spencer can't really argue; Ryan's pretty terrible. But it turns out that Brendon's not, and after they practice a couple of songs Spencer's heart trips crazy and wild in his chest, because maybe, just maybe, they might actually be going somewhere now.
Brendon is stupidly hot when he sings. There's just something about the way he walks up to his mic, his face wide open, his voice strong and sure and right.
It gets even better when Spencer's mom comes in to listen, or when Spencer's sisters and all their little girlfriends from around the block decide to crash practice. Whenever he's got an audience, Brendon struts, and paces and pierces everyone who's watching with soulful eyes, and Spencer sometimes wishes he could lay down his sticks and walk around and watch Brendon perform. He wishes it could just be the two of them and that Brendon would pin him with that look, and sing him a song.
As it is, Spencer has to make do with the times Brendon throws a look over his shoulder and smiles.
Brendon doesn't drive, and it's a pretty far bus ride to his house from Spencer's, so Spencer's gotten in the habit of borrowing his mom's car to take him home.
"That was pretty fucking amazing," Spencer says. Brendon shrugs his shoulders and looks out the window, and it's probably the stillest Spencer's ever seen him. "Is everything okay?" Spencer asks, and Brendon nods his head and then says, "No. No. Can you maybe pull over?"
There's a Wal-Mart half a block up, and Spencer pulls the car over and parks out on the edge of the lot where the cars are sparse. "Bren?" Spencer says softly.
Brendon turns in his seat and stares at Spencer forever, and finally he says, "I want you to kiss me."
Spencer's stomach flutters hard, because he's maybe lain in bed at night and fantasized about this, what it would be like to kiss Brendon and have him actually want it; to have Brendon kiss him back.
Brendon is still sitting, holding his breath, looking like he's waiting for Spencer to freak out, or get out of the car, or maybe yell at him, or hit him, or something, and he only relaxes when Spencer says, "Yeah, okay. Come here."
Brendon leans in and Spencer leans in and their mouths brush together, barely touching, and Spencer wants more, but he waits for Brendon to tell him it's okay. Brendon inhales sharply and Spencer takes that as permission, and flicks his tongue out lightly, gently, against Brendon's bottom lip. His lips are chapped, dry, and Spencer can almost taste the warmth of Brendon's mouth, but Brendon is already rigid, strung tight, and Spencer doesn't want to scare him.
He trails his fingers gently up the curve of Brendon's neck, and it's like flipping a switch. Brendon is suddenly malleable, soft in Spencer's hands, and Spencer takes advantage and licks at the inside of Brendon's mouth.
It's better than the fantasies. It's better than anything Spencer's ever done -- better than drumming -- and Spencer's heart is beating so loudly that he can barely hear the soft sounds Brendon's making against his mouth.
They kiss forever, for a long time, until both of their mouths are raw and swollen. Brendon's fingers are curled tight in Spencer's shirt, stiff at the knuckles, and finally Spencer pulls away. "Bren," he says softly, and Brendon's eyes flutter open, his pupils so dilated that his entire eye looks black. "We should get you home."
Brendon nods, looks dazed and sweet, and Spencer can't help himself. He leans back in and kisses him again.
They drive to Brendon's neighborhood in silence, and Brendon makes him pull over to the curb a few houses away. He leans over and kisses Spencer hard on the mouth before he jumps out of the car and runs up the sidewalk.
The band gets better. Ryan insists on longer practices, and they all work hard, sometimes forsaking schoolwork for rhythms and beats.
"I can't come tomorrow," Brendon says at the end of a particularly grueling practice.
Ryan glares and opens his mouth, but Spencer cuts him off. "Why, what's up?" he asks.
Brendon shrugs and taps his foot nervously. "I failed two tests last week, and my parents are coming down on me pretty hard. I need to spend some time at home."
Spencer nods, but Ryan stands up, fists clenched tight at his sides. "This isn't just some pastime for me, Urie. I'm not quitting until I make something of this band, and I need my lead singer to be on the same page, so if this isn't what you want to do, say it now."
"Ryan," Spencer hisses.
Brendon stands up, too, and his whole body is shaking like a leaf on a windy day. "Not everyone has the luxury of not caring if their parents hate them," he snarls.
Ryan flinches like Brendon's slapped him, and Spencer stands up then, gets between them before either of them can say anything else. "Both of you stop it," Spencer says, giving both of them a look that clearly conveys he will kill them both with his bare hands and dispose of the bodies where they'll never be found.
Brendon takes a step back, and Ryan looks at Spencer like he's just stuck a knife in his back.
"I want to go home," Brendon says, quietly, almost inaudible, and Ryan looks at Spencer, like he's daring him to leave with Brendon.
Brent finally speaks up from his spot on the couch, says, "I can take you. I'm heading out anyway."
Brendon looks at Spencer for a long time, and finally he says, "Yeah. Okay. Let's go."
Brendon shows up for practice the next day at five o'clock on the dot, and when Ryan looks up from his guitar Brendon says, "Are we practicing, or what?"
Ryan nods, and they play for two hours.
Spencer gets up after they're done and grabs his mother's keys from the entry table in the hall, but when he gets back out to the garage, Brent and Brendon are already gone.
"Brent took him home," Ryan says, still fiddling with his guitar.
Spencer's stomach curls with disappointment, but he does his best to swallow it down. Ryan is packing his stuff up slowly, and Spencer suddenly doesn't want to be alone. "It's Friday," he says to Ryan. "Are you staying over?"
Ryan stops packing and sends Spencer a smile before he says, "Sure, why not."
Brent calls Spencer on Sunday. Brent's a nice guy, sweet, but kind of boring. Spencer likes him because he's easy; with Ryan Ross for a best friend, easy is sometimes a really nice change of pace.
"Hey," Spencer says, because they're friends, but they're the type of friends who hang out for two hours every weekday and play music together and maybe say hello to each other in the hallway at school, and that's about it. They're not the kind of friends who call each other up on a Sunday just to chit-chat.
"Hey," Brent says. It's quiet for a minute, and Spencer feels awkward, like maybe he should be making small talk, and he's just about to say something about the weather before he remembers that Brent called him, so Spencer feels somewhat justified in his silence. It's like an unspoken rule of phone etiquette that the person who calls is obligated to carry the load of the conversation.
Spencer waits and finally Brent says, "So. I think maybe you should talk to Brendon."
Spencer and Brent make a plan. Brent leaves early on Monday for a completely made-up family obligation that he claims he couldn't get out of. Ryan bitches, because Spencer and Brent both decided it would be easier not to tell him and more realistic if he acted like a prissy bitch about Brent leaving early.
Brendon looks a little panicked when Brent gets up to go, and he fidgets behind his mic stand nervously, and then walks over and picks up Brent's bass and puts the strap over his head. Spencer thinks it looks almost like he's using it as a shield, and he frowns and thinks about saying something to try and calm Brendon's nerves, but before he can, Ryan says, "Can you handle his parts for the rest of practice?"
Brendon nods and they start playing again. Eventually, seven o'clock rolls around, and Brendon goes to get his backpack.
"I'll take you," Spencer says.
Brendon blinks twice, says, "No... It's..."
"I'll take you," Spencer says again, more firmly, and Brendon just nods.
They drive for five minutes before Brendon says, "I... Take the next exit, okay?"
"Sure," Spencer says. "Where are we going?" Spencer's been to Brendon's parents' house a million times, and this isn't the way.
"My parents..." Brendon says, and then he sighs and stares out the window.
This is the part of Brendon that Spencer doesn't know what to do with, the tentative, quiet part. He likes Brendon best when he's laughing and smiling and talking a mile a minute about things absolutely no one but Brendon cares about. He likes Brendon when he's playing guitar, or when he gets a verse right and Ryan smiles at him. He likes Brendon when he's playing video games or eating candy or telling a story about how his sister used to dress him and his brothers up like girls. He likes Brendon in all his various incarnations, but this silent, withdrawn Brendon makes him nervous in a way he can't really explain.
Spencer pulls the car over on the side of the freeway and puts his hazard lights on. They're bright orange in the dark, and Spencer watches the color play over Brendon's cheekbones.
Brendon is still staring out the window when he says, "I guess Brent told you my parents kicked me out."
Spencer's stomach twists, nauseous, because Brent didn't; he just told Spencer to talk to Brendon without letting on about how bad it was.
"Brendon," Spencer says softly. "You could... I can ask my mom if you can..."
"No," Brendon says. "My sister helped me get a place."
"Oh," Spencer says. "It wasn't because you came to practice the other day, was it?"
Brendon looks away guiltily. "A while back, I got caught smoking pot at school and my parents were...pissed. To put it mildly."
Spencer reaches across the car and takes Brendon's hand. Brendon drags in a shaky breath and says, "So I was pissed about fighting with Ryan, and I just wanted to relax a little, and my mom found me out back, and she flipped out. She and my dad yelled at each other, and then she yelled at me, and then they basically said that I could quit the band and get serious about school, or I could get out."
Brendon rubs at his eyes with his free hand and shrugs his shoulders, and they sit silently for a while more. Then Spencer turns off his hazard lights and pulls back onto the freeway. Brendon tells him where to get off and where to turn and eventually they arrive in front of a small, run-down apartment complex. It looks pretty scary to Spencer, but Spencer will happily admit that he's lived his life safely tucked away in middle-class suburbia.
"Do you wanna come up?" Brendon asks. Spencer swallows and looks at Brendon and Brendon looks back and then he says, "Just to hang out. I don't really feel like being alone."
Spencer nods and undoes his seatbelt.
"So Pete Wentz just emailed me," Ryan says.
Spencer blinks and blinks, and Ryan smiles and laughs. Ryan laughs, and it's so beautiful that Spencer laughs too.
"I can't go. My parents have a Christmas party or something, and I have to watch my sisters," Spencer says.
Ryan is pouting, and Brendon and Brent are looking like they're both about to witness the apocalypse.
"I need you there, Spence," Ryan says, and Spencer feels like scum, like the worst person on earth, but still he can't.
Spencer tried everything to get out of it, but his mother wouldn't budge. Spencer understands, because his mother loves him, but he knows, deep in her heart, she's hoping he'll grow out of this whole "musician" thing and go to college like every other kid on their block.
"I'm sorry. I can't, Ryan." Spencer says.
"We can record him and play it back while we play live," Brendon says, looking tentatively at Ryan with a hopeful half-smile.
Spencer smiles at him, feels his chest getting less and less tight. "Yeah, that could work."
Ryan still looks mutinous, and he twists his mouth, half pout, half snarl and says, "Sure, whatever. We'll just audition for Pete Wentz without a drummer."
Spencer looks at Brendon and Brendon rolls his eyes dramatically. Spencer can't help but snicker a little, and when Ryan glares at him again, Brendon starts laughing too.
"I hate you both," Ryan says.
They get signed, but Brendon and Spencer and Brent are all still in school. Spencer's parents give him permission to graduate early, even though he can tell they're worried.
Brendon's don't, and even though he's out of their house, he's still a minor.
"I feel like I'm holding everyone up," Brendon says as they put away groceries in Brendon's tiny kitchen. Spencer gives Brendon a lift to the store once a week, and watches, wide-eyed, as Brendon fills a hand basket up with Pop Tarts and mac-n-cheese.
"Graduating is important," Spencer says, and then he winces, because he knows he totally sounds like his mother.
Brendon laughs and takes a bite out of an uncooked Pop Tart. He's leaning against the counter and his jaw is moving up and down as he chews. He's got his ankles crossed and he doesn't really look happy, but he looks good. Spencer's belly curls with want, and it must show on his face, because Brendon stops smiling and swallows hard before he says, "Spencer?"
Spencer takes three steps forward, and then he's pressed against Brendon. He pins him to the counter with his hands on Brendon's hips and takes two deep breaths.
Brendon is breathing hard, too, and Spencer thinks that maybe this will be enough, maybe just touching him, feeling him, will be enough to take the immediate edge off, but then Brendon tilts his chin up and looks at him, and all of Spencer's willpower leaves him with his next breath.
Brendon's breath is hot against Spencer's jaw, his eyes fluttering, his lashes dark against his cheeks, and Spencer leans in a fraction of an inch and kisses his mouth.
Brendon opens right up this time, and Spencer makes an embarrassing noise and kisses him harder, licking inside his mouth until he feels like he's explored every inch of it. Brendon's tongue is hot against his, his teeth slick, and Spencer feels like he'd be perfectly fine with doing this for the rest of his life.
Brendon lifts his hands, and Spencer can feel them hovering at his shoulders for a second before his fingers find their way into Spencer's hair. Spencer moans, digs his fingers into Brendon's hips and then boosts him onto the counter top so he has better access to Brendon's mouth.
Eventually, Spencer has to stop kissing Brendon long enough to take a couple of deep breaths, and that's when Brendon kisses down Spencer's jaw and sucks hard against the skin of Spencer's neck.
It's the first time Brendon's initiated any kind of contact, and Spencer presses his hips hard where he's cradled against the V of Brendon's body and comes messy and half-embarrassed in his pants.
Brendon sucks on his neck harder, scrapes his teeth across the sensitive skin, and scratches his nails soothingly along Spencer's scalp.
It takes a few minutes of heavy breathing for Spencer to come back to himself, and it's only then that he can pay attention to the hard press of Brendon's cock against his hip. He tries to work his hand between their bodies, but when he cups Brendon through his jeans, Brendon tenses against him.
"Let me," Spencer says, kissing Brendon lightly on the mouth.
Brendon bites his bottom lip hard and closes his eyes and says, "Maybe you could just kiss me again. I like the kissing."
He looks shy and scared, and his cheeks have this pretty blush to them, and he's breathing hard against Spencer's face, breath warm and smelling like cherry Pop Tart. Spencer wants to see him smile, wants him happy and sated, and he knows he could push and show Brendon how amazing it could be, but he's scared he'll push too hard, and Brendon will run away. More than anything, he wants the opportunity to do this again. More than anything, he wants Brendon to stay.
He takes his hand off Brendon's cock, and leans in to kiss him breathless.
They start writing in earnest, because they're definitely going to need more than two or three songs if they're going to record an album. Ryan and Brendon start spending more and more time with their heads together, and sometimes, Spencer and Brent spend entire practices playing Spencer's Playstation, while Ryan and Brendon work on lyrics. It's not like Spencer's worried or jealous, because Ryan is mostly straight and finds Brendon pretty annoying most of the time. He knows it's all about the music by the way Ryan's eyes light up when Brendon sings something particularly well. Spencer remembers the look Ryan got in his eyes the first time they played their instruments together back when they were shiny new Christmas presents, and the band was just some faraway dream that Ryan talked about like someone else would talk about a wish they made on a star.
Ryan doesn't love anything so much as he loves music, and Spencer understands that Brendon was kind of like an answer to that wish. Without Brendon, they wouldn't have gotten signed, so he does his best to tamp down on his jealousy.
When that doesn't work, he follows Brendon into the bathroom and pins him against the sink and kisses him until both their mouths are fat and bruised.
Brendon turns eighteen in April. Spencer calls him all day, and when he doesn't get an answer, he shows up on Brendon's door step with two cupcakes, a large pepperoni pizza and a single candle.
Brendon's eyes are red-rimmed when he answers the door, but he smiles at Spencer when he sees the cupcakes.
"Are they chocolate?" he asks.
Spencer says, "Of course they are."
They eat on the floor, and ten minutes before midnight Spencer digs out a lighter and hands Brendon his cupcake. He lights the candle, and Brendon holds it in his hands for a full minute until Spencer says, "Make a wish."
Brendon closes his eyes and blows it out. They eat quietly, and then Brendon crawls across the floor and into Spencer lap, and they kiss and kiss and Brendon tastes like chocolate and icing. Spencer's skin feels like it's on fire and he fucks his tongue into Brendon's mouth to try and soothe the burn.
"I want to touch you," he whispers, and Brendon shivers against him, nodding his head against the crook of Spencer's neck.
Spencer pulls Brendon's shirt off, spreads him out on the floor and lays kisses down his chest and on his stomach until Brendon has half a dozen red marks shaped like Spencer's mouth on his skin.
Brendon throws his head back, and he's breathing hard when Spencer undoes his jeans. Then Spencer wraps his hand around Brendon's cock, gently, slowly, and Brendon bites his bottom lip and makes all these amazing noises.
It doesn't take long, because they're both young and horny and pretty much always ready to go, and Brendon comes messy and sudden over Spencer's hand and his own stomach.
Brendon lays boneless, like a wrecked ship on the carpet and Spencer slides back up his body and kisses his chin and then his lips.
After a few minutes, Brendon moves his hand to Spencer's jeans, and Spencer grabs him by the wrist and twines their fingers together. Brendon quirks his eyebrow, and Spencer says, "It'll keep."
Brendon leans over and kisses him, and Spencer says, "Happy Birthday, Brendon."
Ryan likes to watch really pretentious films with subtitles, or at least Academy Award nominations, but sometimes, Spencer would really just like to sit down and watch things get blown up. Fortunately, Brendon enjoys watching things get blown up, too, and since Spencer is also a big fan of Brendon enjoying things, it sort of becomes his and Brendon's thing on the weekends: Brendon works the morning shift at the Smoothie Hut, and afterward, Spencer picks him up and they go see the biggest, loudest, most pyrotechnic-packed movie they can find.
"I want to see the new Star Wars," Brendon says.
Spencer wrinkles his nose, because the new ones have all pretty much sucked ass, but it also feels like he's invested now too, since he's seen the first two. "Alright," he says.
They buy the tickets and Spencer gets a large popcorn with extra butter and Brendon gets Milk Duds. "I want Mr. Pibb," Brendon says.
Spencer shrugs and says, "Dr. Pepper is better."
Brendon looks horrified. "No way, Spencer Smith, Pibb whips Dr. Pepper's ass. It has ten times the sugar."
Spencer rolls his eyes and orders Brendon's Mr. Pibb. "You know, more sugar is probably not the greatest selling point."
Brendon wrinkles his brow like he's legitimately confused. "It's like you don't know me at all," he says, and Spencer laughs.
The movie is, as expected, kind of lame. But, Brendon lets Spencer hold his hand through most of it and Spencer's pretty sure he'd have made out with him too if the theater hadn't been so packed.
"Well," Spencer says once they're back in Spencer's car. "That was predictably stupid."
"I don't know," Brendon says. "It's like a warning I guess. It's what can happen when we want things we shouldn't want."
Spencer raises his eyebrow and says, "We get melted in a vat of hot lava and turned into a part man, part machine monster?"
Brendon smiles, but he says, "You know what I mean."
There are always parts of Brendon that Spencer feels like he can't reach, but they've been okay lately. Things have been good, and Spencer doesn't like this feeling he sometimes gets, like for every step they take forward, Brendon is taking two back.
"No," Spencer says. "I really don't."
Brendon looks away guiltily and says, "Never mind."
Spencer grips his steering wheel tight and wonders if he should push until Brendon says, "I liked the light saber fight at the end. That was pretty bad ass."
Spencer looks at Brendon and Brendon looks back, his eyes silently pleading, and Spencer's always had a hard time denying Brendon anything, so he lets it go. "I don't know," he says. "I think I liked the one from the last movie better. Yoda kicks ass."
Brendon smiles and says, "Yeah, Yoda kicks so much ass."
Spencer graduates by correspondence in May. Brendon graduates, too, but between the band, and his job, and Spencer, school wasn't exactly high on his list of priorities, so he barely makes it, finishing his required credits by the skin of his teeth.
He decides not to walk the stage, even after Ryan, who at a whole year older than Brendon feels like he's acquired all this excess knowledge, tells him that it's a rite of passage.
"It'll just be a bunch of lame assholes that always made fun of me, anyway," Brendon says.
Spencer is curled up around Brendon on Brendon's crappy mattress, watching Lord of the Rings on a TV and DVD player that Brendon's sister gave him.
Spencer rubs his fingers through Brendon's hair and says, "Yeah."
Brendon doesn't say anything else, but Spencer knows that Brendon's parents aren't going to be there, and they're really the only reason Brendon would have done it anyway. It's the same reason he didn't just get his GED after they kicked him out. Deep down, Spencer knows Brendon's still waiting for them to forgive him.
Spencer pulls Brendon closer and kisses his cheek.
Spencer can't stop thinking about Brendon and Brendon's parents and how basically Brendon has screwed his entire life up to be in the band, and he doesn't really know how to fix it, or even if he can, but he wants to try. He really just wants to do something nice for Brendon, something that'll make him smile.
He pulls out every penny he has in his savings account and takes Brendon out to dinner to celebrate Brendon's graduation and the band and the record deal and the fact that Spencer's pretty sure he's kind of crazy in love with Brendon. They eat steak, and drink Dr Pepper, and order three desserts, which they share and eat in their entirety. Afterward, they walk to Spencer's car together and Brendon grabs Spencer's hand when they cross the parking lot. They get in the car, and Spencer takes a left out of the parking lot when a right would take them back to Brendon's apartment.
"Where are we going now?" Brendon asks. He's smiling over at Spencer, and he has his hand splayed out over his full belly, and he looks relaxed and happy, and Spencer wants to keep him that way.
Spencer's palms are sweating when he says, "I rented a hotel room."
Brendon's eyes get wide, panicked and he swallows and says, whisper-low, "Spencer."
"I don't... We don't have to do anything," Spencer says earnestly. "I just... It's a nice hotel. We can just go and watch cable and sleep on a bed with an actual frame and headboard. It doesn't have to be a big deal."
Brendon lets out a breath and swallows and nods, and they drive the rest of the way in silence.
Spencer's hands are shaking when he tries to slide the key card into the door, and he keeps getting the stupid red light until finally, on his fifth try, Brendon takes the key from his hand, slides it in and gets the green light. Spencer doesn't want to think too hard about what that means.
Once they're inside, Brendon turns around and pulls Spencer's head down a couple of inches and kisses him on the mouth.
Spencer settles his hands on Brendon's hips, slides them up under the hem of Brendon's shirt and splays his hands, warm and tentative, on Brendon's back. Brendon shivers, his skin and muscle moving smoothly under Spencer's hands.
Spencer lets Brendon set the pace, the mood, and Brendon kisses him slow and smooth, like they're both drunk on the taste of each other's mouths alone. Spencer feels like he's sinking; his heart is beating hard in his throat and chest, and Brendon is kissing him along his jaw and down his neck to his collarbone, his fingers moving slow and stupid on Spencer's button-down shirt.
It's all pretty hazy, and Spencer wants to touch every inch of Brendon's skin until there isn't any place on Brendon's body where he won't be feeling Spencer later.
Spencer has lube and condoms -- he didn't want to assume, but he had hoped -- and he prays that Brendon doesn't get the wrong idea when he stops kissing him long enough to go fetch the paper bag he brought up before he picked up Brendon for dinner.
When he turns back around, Brendon has tossed his shirt aside and is working on unbuttoning his pants, and Spencer watches him as he slides them over his hip bones, toeing off his shoes as he drops his pants to the floor and steps out of them.
Spencer tosses the bag back on the bed and walks over to Brendon and kisses him again. Brendon wraps his hands around the back of Spencer's neck and they move together, Brendon walking backwards until the backs of his thighs hit the bed, and then Spencer presses him back until he's laid out, his legs hanging over the edge at his knees. Spencer hooks his fingers in Brendon's briefs and pulls, but doesn't ever take his eyes off Brendon's, just in case Brendon wants to stop and he doesn't know how to say so.
Brendon closes his eyes, and Spencer falls to his knees between Brendon's legs. He's never done this, and he's nervous. He's gotten head before, from some of Ryan's MySpace friends and from the girl he took to his Junior Prom, so he's not completely clueless about how it works, but he's never been on this end of it. And Brendon hasn't let them move much past rubbing against each other and the occasional handjob, but he's letting him now, and Spencer really, really doesn't want to fuck this up.
He kisses the side of Brendon's knee and then watches, fascinated, as the muscles in Brendon's stomach jump. He does it again, a little higher, and noses along Brendon's thigh, mapping out a path with lips and teeth. Brendon's thigh is milky white and firm, and the closer Spencer gets to Brendon's cock, the better he smells, like Brendon, but different, more. Brendon is hard and leaking against his stomach and Spencer closes his eyes and shudders, a little awestruck that he's the cause of it.
He wraps his hand around the base of Brendon's cock, and Brendon makes a noise in the back of his throat that Spencer interprets as approval. He licks experimentally at the head, and Brendon moans.
The taste isn't bad exactly, a little salty, but underneath that, Spencer is acutely aware that it's Brendon, and that makes it good somehow. Spencer takes Brendon all the way into his mouth as far as he can, and hums his approval when Brendon twists his fingers in Spencer's hair and bucks his hips up erratically.
It doesn't take long, five minutes maybe, and then Brendon is saying Spencer's name, breathy and frantic, but Spencer doesn't pull off, just sucks harder until Brendon comes in his mouth. It's messy, and Spencer can't swallow it all; some of it slides out along his chin, but he doesn't care.
Brendon is still breathing hard, sweat lightly coating his body, and Spencer makes quick work of his own clothes, and then crawls up the bed, kissing lightly at Brendon's hip, belly button, chest, and clavicle until Brendon's eyes flutter open and Spencer kisses him on the mouth.
"Hey," Spencer says, and Brendon smiles and leans up to kiss at Spencer's mouth again.
"Hi," Brendon says.
They stay like that for awhile, just touching and kissing and breathing into each other's mouths, until Brendon's fingers eventually find their way around Spencer's cock. "I could try and blow you," Brendon says quietly.
Spencer shivers and closes his eyes tight, because he thinks he could actually come from this, Brendon's voice, and Brendon's hand, loose around his cock. "Okay," Spencer says.
Brendon hesitates for a minute and then kisses Spencer hard before he says, "Or, you could fuck me if you want to."
Spencer stops breathing for a second, all the air rushing from his lungs suddenly, and he kind of forgets how to pull it back in. It takes Brendon touching his cheek lightly to bring him back, and then he sucks in a breath and says, "If you're sure. Yes, please. Brendon."
Brendon reaches for the brown bag still laying on the bed and when he twists back around, Spencer kisses him.
He puts Brendon on his hands and knees, and it's awkward, strange, and Brendon breathes hard when Spencer pushes in the first lubed finger. "Easy, I got you," Spencer says. He works his finger in and out slowly and sends a silent prayer of thanks to the Internet when he crooks his finger and Brendon lets out a euphoric moan. "Want another one?" Spencer asks as he crooks his finger again.
Brendon says, "Oh, God. Oh, fuck," and Spencer thinks that means yes, so he pulls his finger out, squirts more lube over his fingers, and goes back in with two.
Brendon's spine arches, and Spencer leans forward to lay kisses along the knobby bones. Brendon's skin is warm and flushed, and Spencer watches him, fascinated, as he presses his fingers in and crooks them. Every time Spencer pushes into Brendon's prostate, Brendon whines pathetically, and Spencer's so hard, so ready, that he thinks he was wrong before. He could actually come just from this, Brendon's noises, and the arched, needy line of Brendon's back, and Spencer's fingers surrounded by tight, hot muscle. Spencer can't even contemplate his cock taking the place of his fingers right now, or this is all going to be over before it starts.
"Are you ready?" Spencer asks, and he's trying to sound firm, sure, but he sounds mostly desperate and pathetic to his own ears.
The muscles in Brendon's shoulders tighten, and Spencer's not sure if it's reservation, or a reaction to Spencer tapping Brendon's prostate one last time, but Brendon says, "Yes, yes. Please," so Spencer pulls his fingers out and rolls a condom on.
It's a tight fit, and Spencer nudges in as slowly as he can, but he can still tell by the way Brendon is holding himself, by the noises he's making, that Spencer is hurting him.
"I can stop," Spencer says, even though the idea of it makes him want to cry.
Brendon shakes his head and says, "No. It hurts, but it's not bad. Just... I don't know. Move or something."
Spencer rocks his hips experimentally and Brendon makes a noise, different and better than before, so Spencer does it again. They get a rhythm going, and before too long, Brendon is rocking back into Spencer's thrusts. It's amazing, so good, and Brendon finally says, "Spencer, please, please," and Spencer reaches underneath Brendon and wraps his hand around Brendon's cock.
It takes exactly four strokes, and Spencer's thumb pressing hard under the head of Brendon's dick, and then Brendon is coming in hot spurts over Spencer's fist. Brendon's spine goes rigid, and his shoulders shake, and every muscle around Spencer's dick tightens until Spencer's eyes roll back in his head, and his own orgasm hits him hard.
Brendon slumps forward and Spencer falls pretty much on top of him. Spencer knows it can't be comfortable, and as soon as he's able, he pulls out of Brendon's body gently and rearranges them so that Brendon is lying along his side, their legs tangled together.
Brendon snakes his arms around Spencer's hips. Spencer knows that if they stay like this, Brendon's arm will probably fall asleep from lack of circulation, but Brendon doesn't seem to care, so Spencer tries not to worry about it.
Brendon tucks his face against Spencer's neck, and tucks one hand in Spencer's hair. They're wrapped up together, so twisted and intertwined that Spencer doesn't think he can tell what's his and what's Brendon's anymore. Brendon lays a sleepy, open-mouthed kiss to Spencer's neck, and Spencer's heart twists, hard and vicious in his chest, and Spencer knows without a doubt that he won't be getting it back come morning.
In June, they move up to Maryland to record the album. Ryan and Brendon fight a lot about the vocals. Spencer knows they're both frustrated because Ryan has this idea of what each song should sound like and no real way to convey that to Brendon. It's easier with Brent and Spencer, because their instruments are constant and unchanging in a way that Brendon's voice isn't. Sometimes, Brent can't get certain parts down right, but Brendon is more than capable on the bass, and he just picks up the slack in that department too.
"You're not doing it right," Ryan says as he pulls his guitar over his head and throws it down a little too hard.
Spencer winces, and Brent ambles off to the side stage, and takes his sidekick out, already used to -- and bored by -- Ryan's tantrums.
Brendon closes his eyes and sighs and says calmly, "Well, why don't you explain it to me again."
"I've explained it to you a hundred times already, and you still don't get it. You're fucking hopeless, Brendon."
"Maybe you just suck at communication, Ryan," Brendon says sweetly. "It's probably not a coincidence that everyone who's had any contact with you since we got here thinks you're an uptight, prissy bitch."
Ryan's cheeks flame red and Spencer stands up to get in between them, but he's a second too late: Ryan rears back and slaps Brendon hard across the cheek.
"Ryan!" Spencer says sharply, but Ryan is already storming out the door, his shoulders held so tightly that Spencer thinks someone could probably snap him with a touch.
The room gets eerily quiet after Ryan's exit, and Brendon stares over Spencer's shoulder for a few seconds, just breathing in and out slowly, until Spencer takes a step toward him. Then, Brendon snaps to attention, takes a step back, and says, "Just go after him. I know you want to."
The thing is, Spencer does want to. He's spent more than a decade of his life going after Ryan, but he also wants to grab on to Brendon and hug him and maybe kiss him, but he doesn't think Brendon will let him right now. Ryan, he knows, will let Spencer wrap his arms around him, hug him, comfort him -- and it really sucks being stuck in the middle. Spencer doesn't like it at all.
"Brendon," Spencer says softly, and it sounds like a question and an apology all at once.
Brendon closes his eyes and takes another step back and says, "Just go."
There's nothing he can say to Brendon right now that won't sound like an excuse, so he goes to deal with Ryan. Ryan he can navigate with his eyes closed.
He finds Ryan outside smoking a cigarette, and he rolls his eyes. Ryan has this thing where he tries to act more grown up than he really is by emulating whatever someone else is doing; their producer smokes like a chimney stack, so Ryan picked up the habit a few weeks ago.
"Hey," Spencer says, sitting down next to Ryan and bumping their shoulders together.
Ryan turns his head away from Spencer and blows smoke out of his mouth awkwardly. Ryan's in this amazingly gawky stage where pretty much everything he does is awkward. "I figured you'd be inside soothing your boyfriend's hurt feelings," Ryan says nonchalantly.
Spencer raises an eyebrow, because they haven't exactly talked about Brendon, but Ryan's known Spencer forever, and Ryan isn't stupid, so of course he knows.
"He isn't my boyfriend," Spencer says, because he's not, or well, they haven't really talked about it in terms of labels. Honestly, Spencer doesn't know what they are, just that whatever it is, Spencer would like to keep being it for a long, long time.
"You're having sex with him, and when you're not having sex with him, you're staring at him all moony-eyed, like you'd like to be having sex with him. I'd say you're his boyfriend," Ryan says.
"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean I'm not your friend anymore," Spencer says.
Ryan shrugs and tilts his head back so that he has to squint his eyes at the sun. "I wish I had his voice," Ryan says before he rubs his right eye with the heel of his hand.
Spencer's quiet for a minute, trying to figure out how hard he can push, until he remembers that this is Ryan, not Brendon, and there's never a distance he can push Ryan that's too far for him to reach. "I think maybe he wishes that, too. Then he wouldn't always feel imperfect every time you look at him," Spencer says, watching Ryan's face closely.
Ryan inhales sharply and squeezes his eyes shut tight before he gets up off the bench and throws his cigarette butt on the ground.
"Where are you going?" Spencer asks gently.
"To apologize to your boyfriend and then finish making this album before we kill each other. You wanna come play the drums?" Ryan says.
Spencer smiles and follows him inside.
PART TWO
PART THREE
Fanmixes and Fanart
Author: jewels667
Fandom/Paring: Panic at the Disco, (Brendon/Spencer)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 21,083
Disclaimer: This story is full of lies, falsehoods, and other distortions of the truth. In other words it's fiction.
Author's Notes: This was written for bandombigbang. Title stolen shamelessly from a Leonard Cohen song. Many thanks to stephanometra and floridapeaches for the beta. This wouldn't exist without the two of you. I hope you both know how much I love you, and I'm sorry for all the comma abuse. :D This is for cheapcrowd. I love you, bb.
Summary: Spencer and Brendon fall awkwardly in love before Pete signs Panic, but Brendon's upbringing and his religious conflicts make it hard for him to adjust. While Brendon struggles with growing up and trying to figure out what's right for him, Spencer tries to move on.
"This is Brendon," Brent says, and Spencer stands up and holds out his hand. Brendon shakes it enthusiastically, his eyes flicking around Spencer's garage.
Brendon is tiny and kind of dorky, with hair that sticks up everywhere, and Spencer can't help but smile at him. When Brendon finally gets done checking out Spencer's garage, he looks at Spencer and smiles back.
Brendon says, "Hey, wow. You have a really pretty smile."
That's when Spencer figures out that he might have a problem.
So, Brendon has this smile, and Spencer's maybe a little bit addicted to bringing it out. Spencer always tells him stupid jokes, or makes sure he compliments Brendon on his playing. Sometimes, when it wouldn't be an outright lie, he even tells Brendon his outfit is cool.
"You play this part," Ryan says seriously.
Brendon grunts and says, "I like the other part better."
"Right," Ryan says, and Spencer can tell he's about to get his bitch on. "But I wrote it and that's my part, so you're going to play this part," Ryan says, pointing to the sheet music.
Brendon says, "Fine, whatever."
"Hey guys," Spencer says, interrupting. "How many guitarists does it take to change a light bulb?" Spencer asks.
Brendon smiles like he knows Spencer's trying to distract Ryan, and Ryan glares because he knows for sure. Spencer says, "Twelve, one to change the bulb and eleven to say they could have done it better."
Brendon laughs, just like Spencer hoped he would, and Ryan crosses his arms over his chest and glares harder. "What?" Spencer says innocently.
"You're supposed to be my best friend," Ryan says.
"I am," Spencer says, and he knows he should feel guilty, but Brendon is still smiling, and he just can't.
So yeah, the smile sort of does ridiculous things to Spencer's insides, and he's not sure if he likes it or not, which would explain why he keeps experimenting with it. Eventually, he's sure he'll come to some kind of conclusion.
Brendon comes over early sometimes. They practice from five to seven, but school lets out at three, and at least three times a week, Brendon is at Spencer's house by three-thirty.
The first time Brendon shows up, Spencer shrugs his shoulders and they go up to Spencer's room to play video games. It somehow becomes a regular thing, and Spencer finds himself looking forward to it now.
Brendon's really good at Smash Brothers, and Spencer's not used to getting his ass kicked, since Ryan is his usual competition. Ryan is hopeless at everything except the guitar.
"I'm thirsty," Brendon says, and Spencer gets up and gets them some Capri Suns, which Spencer insisted his mom start buying when he found out Brendon liked them.
Brendon says, "Thanks," when Spencer gets back, and they play some more.
Ten minutes later, Brendon makes slurping noises with his container. Spencer shoots him a look that clearly conveys how disgusting it sounds, but Brendon smiles around his straw and tries to look innocent.
"That's gross," Spencer says, setting his controller down so he can make a grab for Brendon's empty Capri Sun. Brendon laughs and ducks his head and continues to slurp loudly until Spencer has him half pinned to the bed.
He rips the container from Brendon's hand and Brendon is smiling up at him, his mouth and lips red, and Spencer's not really thinking. Or, well, he is; he's thinking he really, really wants to know what Capri Sun tastes like on Brendon's mouth, and before he gives it much more consideration than that, he leans down and kisses him.
Brendon doesn't struggle or freak out or push at Spencer, but he doesn't kiss him back, either. He lies there, still, lips parted slightly, and Spencer presses closer, kisses him a little harder, and wishes, wishes, wishes that Brendon would open his mouth and kiss him back. Spencer makes a needy noise in the back of his throat, and it's only then that Brendon moves, lays his hand on the side of Spencer's neck gently, and moves his fingers softly against the skin there.
"Spencer," Brendon finally says against Spencer's lips.
Spencer pulls back and looks at Brendon's face. He doesn't see anything there, which is frustrating in and of itself, because Brendon always shows everything he's feeling on his face. "Sorry, sorry," Spencer says, because he just basically attacked Brendon's face, and if Brendon's lack of reaction is anything to go by, he wasn't that into it.
"No, it's okay," Brendon says, his fingers still moving soothingly on Spencer's neck. "I just... we should probably go downstairs. It's almost five."
Spencer sits up and nods.
The following week, Ryan comes into practice with a head cold, and the entire band cringes through the first song.
"Okay, guys. I can't do this today," Ryan says.
Brendon says, "I could take it for today. You know, just to get through practice."
Ryan waves his hand and says, "Yeah, sure. Anything has to be better than this."
It turns out that not only is Brendon proficient on the guitar, and more than decent at the piano, but he can apparently sing his heart out, too.
"Why didn't you say so?" Ryan says, and he'd probably be screeching if he were capable of doing so, as it is, he just sounds...earnest, with an edge of something scarier due to his severe congestion.
Brendon looks like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I... You..." he says, and Spencer pats his shoulder and glares at Ryan as hard as he can.
"We brought him on to play guitar, Ryan," Spencer says, and Ryan rolls his eyes toward the ceiling with an expression that clearly says he wishes he weren't surrounded by idiots.
"Well fuck, Spencer, everyone knows I can't sing."
Spencer can't really argue; Ryan's pretty terrible. But it turns out that Brendon's not, and after they practice a couple of songs Spencer's heart trips crazy and wild in his chest, because maybe, just maybe, they might actually be going somewhere now.
Brendon is stupidly hot when he sings. There's just something about the way he walks up to his mic, his face wide open, his voice strong and sure and right.
It gets even better when Spencer's mom comes in to listen, or when Spencer's sisters and all their little girlfriends from around the block decide to crash practice. Whenever he's got an audience, Brendon struts, and paces and pierces everyone who's watching with soulful eyes, and Spencer sometimes wishes he could lay down his sticks and walk around and watch Brendon perform. He wishes it could just be the two of them and that Brendon would pin him with that look, and sing him a song.
As it is, Spencer has to make do with the times Brendon throws a look over his shoulder and smiles.
Brendon doesn't drive, and it's a pretty far bus ride to his house from Spencer's, so Spencer's gotten in the habit of borrowing his mom's car to take him home.
"That was pretty fucking amazing," Spencer says. Brendon shrugs his shoulders and looks out the window, and it's probably the stillest Spencer's ever seen him. "Is everything okay?" Spencer asks, and Brendon nods his head and then says, "No. No. Can you maybe pull over?"
There's a Wal-Mart half a block up, and Spencer pulls the car over and parks out on the edge of the lot where the cars are sparse. "Bren?" Spencer says softly.
Brendon turns in his seat and stares at Spencer forever, and finally he says, "I want you to kiss me."
Spencer's stomach flutters hard, because he's maybe lain in bed at night and fantasized about this, what it would be like to kiss Brendon and have him actually want it; to have Brendon kiss him back.
Brendon is still sitting, holding his breath, looking like he's waiting for Spencer to freak out, or get out of the car, or maybe yell at him, or hit him, or something, and he only relaxes when Spencer says, "Yeah, okay. Come here."
Brendon leans in and Spencer leans in and their mouths brush together, barely touching, and Spencer wants more, but he waits for Brendon to tell him it's okay. Brendon inhales sharply and Spencer takes that as permission, and flicks his tongue out lightly, gently, against Brendon's bottom lip. His lips are chapped, dry, and Spencer can almost taste the warmth of Brendon's mouth, but Brendon is already rigid, strung tight, and Spencer doesn't want to scare him.
He trails his fingers gently up the curve of Brendon's neck, and it's like flipping a switch. Brendon is suddenly malleable, soft in Spencer's hands, and Spencer takes advantage and licks at the inside of Brendon's mouth.
It's better than the fantasies. It's better than anything Spencer's ever done -- better than drumming -- and Spencer's heart is beating so loudly that he can barely hear the soft sounds Brendon's making against his mouth.
They kiss forever, for a long time, until both of their mouths are raw and swollen. Brendon's fingers are curled tight in Spencer's shirt, stiff at the knuckles, and finally Spencer pulls away. "Bren," he says softly, and Brendon's eyes flutter open, his pupils so dilated that his entire eye looks black. "We should get you home."
Brendon nods, looks dazed and sweet, and Spencer can't help himself. He leans back in and kisses him again.
They drive to Brendon's neighborhood in silence, and Brendon makes him pull over to the curb a few houses away. He leans over and kisses Spencer hard on the mouth before he jumps out of the car and runs up the sidewalk.
The band gets better. Ryan insists on longer practices, and they all work hard, sometimes forsaking schoolwork for rhythms and beats.
"I can't come tomorrow," Brendon says at the end of a particularly grueling practice.
Ryan glares and opens his mouth, but Spencer cuts him off. "Why, what's up?" he asks.
Brendon shrugs and taps his foot nervously. "I failed two tests last week, and my parents are coming down on me pretty hard. I need to spend some time at home."
Spencer nods, but Ryan stands up, fists clenched tight at his sides. "This isn't just some pastime for me, Urie. I'm not quitting until I make something of this band, and I need my lead singer to be on the same page, so if this isn't what you want to do, say it now."
"Ryan," Spencer hisses.
Brendon stands up, too, and his whole body is shaking like a leaf on a windy day. "Not everyone has the luxury of not caring if their parents hate them," he snarls.
Ryan flinches like Brendon's slapped him, and Spencer stands up then, gets between them before either of them can say anything else. "Both of you stop it," Spencer says, giving both of them a look that clearly conveys he will kill them both with his bare hands and dispose of the bodies where they'll never be found.
Brendon takes a step back, and Ryan looks at Spencer like he's just stuck a knife in his back.
"I want to go home," Brendon says, quietly, almost inaudible, and Ryan looks at Spencer, like he's daring him to leave with Brendon.
Brent finally speaks up from his spot on the couch, says, "I can take you. I'm heading out anyway."
Brendon looks at Spencer for a long time, and finally he says, "Yeah. Okay. Let's go."
Brendon shows up for practice the next day at five o'clock on the dot, and when Ryan looks up from his guitar Brendon says, "Are we practicing, or what?"
Ryan nods, and they play for two hours.
Spencer gets up after they're done and grabs his mother's keys from the entry table in the hall, but when he gets back out to the garage, Brent and Brendon are already gone.
"Brent took him home," Ryan says, still fiddling with his guitar.
Spencer's stomach curls with disappointment, but he does his best to swallow it down. Ryan is packing his stuff up slowly, and Spencer suddenly doesn't want to be alone. "It's Friday," he says to Ryan. "Are you staying over?"
Ryan stops packing and sends Spencer a smile before he says, "Sure, why not."
Brent calls Spencer on Sunday. Brent's a nice guy, sweet, but kind of boring. Spencer likes him because he's easy; with Ryan Ross for a best friend, easy is sometimes a really nice change of pace.
"Hey," Spencer says, because they're friends, but they're the type of friends who hang out for two hours every weekday and play music together and maybe say hello to each other in the hallway at school, and that's about it. They're not the kind of friends who call each other up on a Sunday just to chit-chat.
"Hey," Brent says. It's quiet for a minute, and Spencer feels awkward, like maybe he should be making small talk, and he's just about to say something about the weather before he remembers that Brent called him, so Spencer feels somewhat justified in his silence. It's like an unspoken rule of phone etiquette that the person who calls is obligated to carry the load of the conversation.
Spencer waits and finally Brent says, "So. I think maybe you should talk to Brendon."
Spencer and Brent make a plan. Brent leaves early on Monday for a completely made-up family obligation that he claims he couldn't get out of. Ryan bitches, because Spencer and Brent both decided it would be easier not to tell him and more realistic if he acted like a prissy bitch about Brent leaving early.
Brendon looks a little panicked when Brent gets up to go, and he fidgets behind his mic stand nervously, and then walks over and picks up Brent's bass and puts the strap over his head. Spencer thinks it looks almost like he's using it as a shield, and he frowns and thinks about saying something to try and calm Brendon's nerves, but before he can, Ryan says, "Can you handle his parts for the rest of practice?"
Brendon nods and they start playing again. Eventually, seven o'clock rolls around, and Brendon goes to get his backpack.
"I'll take you," Spencer says.
Brendon blinks twice, says, "No... It's..."
"I'll take you," Spencer says again, more firmly, and Brendon just nods.
They drive for five minutes before Brendon says, "I... Take the next exit, okay?"
"Sure," Spencer says. "Where are we going?" Spencer's been to Brendon's parents' house a million times, and this isn't the way.
"My parents..." Brendon says, and then he sighs and stares out the window.
This is the part of Brendon that Spencer doesn't know what to do with, the tentative, quiet part. He likes Brendon best when he's laughing and smiling and talking a mile a minute about things absolutely no one but Brendon cares about. He likes Brendon when he's playing guitar, or when he gets a verse right and Ryan smiles at him. He likes Brendon when he's playing video games or eating candy or telling a story about how his sister used to dress him and his brothers up like girls. He likes Brendon in all his various incarnations, but this silent, withdrawn Brendon makes him nervous in a way he can't really explain.
Spencer pulls the car over on the side of the freeway and puts his hazard lights on. They're bright orange in the dark, and Spencer watches the color play over Brendon's cheekbones.
Brendon is still staring out the window when he says, "I guess Brent told you my parents kicked me out."
Spencer's stomach twists, nauseous, because Brent didn't; he just told Spencer to talk to Brendon without letting on about how bad it was.
"Brendon," Spencer says softly. "You could... I can ask my mom if you can..."
"No," Brendon says. "My sister helped me get a place."
"Oh," Spencer says. "It wasn't because you came to practice the other day, was it?"
Brendon looks away guiltily. "A while back, I got caught smoking pot at school and my parents were...pissed. To put it mildly."
Spencer reaches across the car and takes Brendon's hand. Brendon drags in a shaky breath and says, "So I was pissed about fighting with Ryan, and I just wanted to relax a little, and my mom found me out back, and she flipped out. She and my dad yelled at each other, and then she yelled at me, and then they basically said that I could quit the band and get serious about school, or I could get out."
Brendon rubs at his eyes with his free hand and shrugs his shoulders, and they sit silently for a while more. Then Spencer turns off his hazard lights and pulls back onto the freeway. Brendon tells him where to get off and where to turn and eventually they arrive in front of a small, run-down apartment complex. It looks pretty scary to Spencer, but Spencer will happily admit that he's lived his life safely tucked away in middle-class suburbia.
"Do you wanna come up?" Brendon asks. Spencer swallows and looks at Brendon and Brendon looks back and then he says, "Just to hang out. I don't really feel like being alone."
Spencer nods and undoes his seatbelt.
"So Pete Wentz just emailed me," Ryan says.
Spencer blinks and blinks, and Ryan smiles and laughs. Ryan laughs, and it's so beautiful that Spencer laughs too.
"I can't go. My parents have a Christmas party or something, and I have to watch my sisters," Spencer says.
Ryan is pouting, and Brendon and Brent are looking like they're both about to witness the apocalypse.
"I need you there, Spence," Ryan says, and Spencer feels like scum, like the worst person on earth, but still he can't.
Spencer tried everything to get out of it, but his mother wouldn't budge. Spencer understands, because his mother loves him, but he knows, deep in her heart, she's hoping he'll grow out of this whole "musician" thing and go to college like every other kid on their block.
"I'm sorry. I can't, Ryan." Spencer says.
"We can record him and play it back while we play live," Brendon says, looking tentatively at Ryan with a hopeful half-smile.
Spencer smiles at him, feels his chest getting less and less tight. "Yeah, that could work."
Ryan still looks mutinous, and he twists his mouth, half pout, half snarl and says, "Sure, whatever. We'll just audition for Pete Wentz without a drummer."
Spencer looks at Brendon and Brendon rolls his eyes dramatically. Spencer can't help but snicker a little, and when Ryan glares at him again, Brendon starts laughing too.
"I hate you both," Ryan says.
They get signed, but Brendon and Spencer and Brent are all still in school. Spencer's parents give him permission to graduate early, even though he can tell they're worried.
Brendon's don't, and even though he's out of their house, he's still a minor.
"I feel like I'm holding everyone up," Brendon says as they put away groceries in Brendon's tiny kitchen. Spencer gives Brendon a lift to the store once a week, and watches, wide-eyed, as Brendon fills a hand basket up with Pop Tarts and mac-n-cheese.
"Graduating is important," Spencer says, and then he winces, because he knows he totally sounds like his mother.
Brendon laughs and takes a bite out of an uncooked Pop Tart. He's leaning against the counter and his jaw is moving up and down as he chews. He's got his ankles crossed and he doesn't really look happy, but he looks good. Spencer's belly curls with want, and it must show on his face, because Brendon stops smiling and swallows hard before he says, "Spencer?"
Spencer takes three steps forward, and then he's pressed against Brendon. He pins him to the counter with his hands on Brendon's hips and takes two deep breaths.
Brendon is breathing hard, too, and Spencer thinks that maybe this will be enough, maybe just touching him, feeling him, will be enough to take the immediate edge off, but then Brendon tilts his chin up and looks at him, and all of Spencer's willpower leaves him with his next breath.
Brendon's breath is hot against Spencer's jaw, his eyes fluttering, his lashes dark against his cheeks, and Spencer leans in a fraction of an inch and kisses his mouth.
Brendon opens right up this time, and Spencer makes an embarrassing noise and kisses him harder, licking inside his mouth until he feels like he's explored every inch of it. Brendon's tongue is hot against his, his teeth slick, and Spencer feels like he'd be perfectly fine with doing this for the rest of his life.
Brendon lifts his hands, and Spencer can feel them hovering at his shoulders for a second before his fingers find their way into Spencer's hair. Spencer moans, digs his fingers into Brendon's hips and then boosts him onto the counter top so he has better access to Brendon's mouth.
Eventually, Spencer has to stop kissing Brendon long enough to take a couple of deep breaths, and that's when Brendon kisses down Spencer's jaw and sucks hard against the skin of Spencer's neck.
It's the first time Brendon's initiated any kind of contact, and Spencer presses his hips hard where he's cradled against the V of Brendon's body and comes messy and half-embarrassed in his pants.
Brendon sucks on his neck harder, scrapes his teeth across the sensitive skin, and scratches his nails soothingly along Spencer's scalp.
It takes a few minutes of heavy breathing for Spencer to come back to himself, and it's only then that he can pay attention to the hard press of Brendon's cock against his hip. He tries to work his hand between their bodies, but when he cups Brendon through his jeans, Brendon tenses against him.
"Let me," Spencer says, kissing Brendon lightly on the mouth.
Brendon bites his bottom lip hard and closes his eyes and says, "Maybe you could just kiss me again. I like the kissing."
He looks shy and scared, and his cheeks have this pretty blush to them, and he's breathing hard against Spencer's face, breath warm and smelling like cherry Pop Tart. Spencer wants to see him smile, wants him happy and sated, and he knows he could push and show Brendon how amazing it could be, but he's scared he'll push too hard, and Brendon will run away. More than anything, he wants the opportunity to do this again. More than anything, he wants Brendon to stay.
He takes his hand off Brendon's cock, and leans in to kiss him breathless.
They start writing in earnest, because they're definitely going to need more than two or three songs if they're going to record an album. Ryan and Brendon start spending more and more time with their heads together, and sometimes, Spencer and Brent spend entire practices playing Spencer's Playstation, while Ryan and Brendon work on lyrics. It's not like Spencer's worried or jealous, because Ryan is mostly straight and finds Brendon pretty annoying most of the time. He knows it's all about the music by the way Ryan's eyes light up when Brendon sings something particularly well. Spencer remembers the look Ryan got in his eyes the first time they played their instruments together back when they were shiny new Christmas presents, and the band was just some faraway dream that Ryan talked about like someone else would talk about a wish they made on a star.
Ryan doesn't love anything so much as he loves music, and Spencer understands that Brendon was kind of like an answer to that wish. Without Brendon, they wouldn't have gotten signed, so he does his best to tamp down on his jealousy.
When that doesn't work, he follows Brendon into the bathroom and pins him against the sink and kisses him until both their mouths are fat and bruised.
Brendon turns eighteen in April. Spencer calls him all day, and when he doesn't get an answer, he shows up on Brendon's door step with two cupcakes, a large pepperoni pizza and a single candle.
Brendon's eyes are red-rimmed when he answers the door, but he smiles at Spencer when he sees the cupcakes.
"Are they chocolate?" he asks.
Spencer says, "Of course they are."
They eat on the floor, and ten minutes before midnight Spencer digs out a lighter and hands Brendon his cupcake. He lights the candle, and Brendon holds it in his hands for a full minute until Spencer says, "Make a wish."
Brendon closes his eyes and blows it out. They eat quietly, and then Brendon crawls across the floor and into Spencer lap, and they kiss and kiss and Brendon tastes like chocolate and icing. Spencer's skin feels like it's on fire and he fucks his tongue into Brendon's mouth to try and soothe the burn.
"I want to touch you," he whispers, and Brendon shivers against him, nodding his head against the crook of Spencer's neck.
Spencer pulls Brendon's shirt off, spreads him out on the floor and lays kisses down his chest and on his stomach until Brendon has half a dozen red marks shaped like Spencer's mouth on his skin.
Brendon throws his head back, and he's breathing hard when Spencer undoes his jeans. Then Spencer wraps his hand around Brendon's cock, gently, slowly, and Brendon bites his bottom lip and makes all these amazing noises.
It doesn't take long, because they're both young and horny and pretty much always ready to go, and Brendon comes messy and sudden over Spencer's hand and his own stomach.
Brendon lays boneless, like a wrecked ship on the carpet and Spencer slides back up his body and kisses his chin and then his lips.
After a few minutes, Brendon moves his hand to Spencer's jeans, and Spencer grabs him by the wrist and twines their fingers together. Brendon quirks his eyebrow, and Spencer says, "It'll keep."
Brendon leans over and kisses him, and Spencer says, "Happy Birthday, Brendon."
Ryan likes to watch really pretentious films with subtitles, or at least Academy Award nominations, but sometimes, Spencer would really just like to sit down and watch things get blown up. Fortunately, Brendon enjoys watching things get blown up, too, and since Spencer is also a big fan of Brendon enjoying things, it sort of becomes his and Brendon's thing on the weekends: Brendon works the morning shift at the Smoothie Hut, and afterward, Spencer picks him up and they go see the biggest, loudest, most pyrotechnic-packed movie they can find.
"I want to see the new Star Wars," Brendon says.
Spencer wrinkles his nose, because the new ones have all pretty much sucked ass, but it also feels like he's invested now too, since he's seen the first two. "Alright," he says.
They buy the tickets and Spencer gets a large popcorn with extra butter and Brendon gets Milk Duds. "I want Mr. Pibb," Brendon says.
Spencer shrugs and says, "Dr. Pepper is better."
Brendon looks horrified. "No way, Spencer Smith, Pibb whips Dr. Pepper's ass. It has ten times the sugar."
Spencer rolls his eyes and orders Brendon's Mr. Pibb. "You know, more sugar is probably not the greatest selling point."
Brendon wrinkles his brow like he's legitimately confused. "It's like you don't know me at all," he says, and Spencer laughs.
The movie is, as expected, kind of lame. But, Brendon lets Spencer hold his hand through most of it and Spencer's pretty sure he'd have made out with him too if the theater hadn't been so packed.
"Well," Spencer says once they're back in Spencer's car. "That was predictably stupid."
"I don't know," Brendon says. "It's like a warning I guess. It's what can happen when we want things we shouldn't want."
Spencer raises his eyebrow and says, "We get melted in a vat of hot lava and turned into a part man, part machine monster?"
Brendon smiles, but he says, "You know what I mean."
There are always parts of Brendon that Spencer feels like he can't reach, but they've been okay lately. Things have been good, and Spencer doesn't like this feeling he sometimes gets, like for every step they take forward, Brendon is taking two back.
"No," Spencer says. "I really don't."
Brendon looks away guiltily and says, "Never mind."
Spencer grips his steering wheel tight and wonders if he should push until Brendon says, "I liked the light saber fight at the end. That was pretty bad ass."
Spencer looks at Brendon and Brendon looks back, his eyes silently pleading, and Spencer's always had a hard time denying Brendon anything, so he lets it go. "I don't know," he says. "I think I liked the one from the last movie better. Yoda kicks ass."
Brendon smiles and says, "Yeah, Yoda kicks so much ass."
Spencer graduates by correspondence in May. Brendon graduates, too, but between the band, and his job, and Spencer, school wasn't exactly high on his list of priorities, so he barely makes it, finishing his required credits by the skin of his teeth.
He decides not to walk the stage, even after Ryan, who at a whole year older than Brendon feels like he's acquired all this excess knowledge, tells him that it's a rite of passage.
"It'll just be a bunch of lame assholes that always made fun of me, anyway," Brendon says.
Spencer is curled up around Brendon on Brendon's crappy mattress, watching Lord of the Rings on a TV and DVD player that Brendon's sister gave him.
Spencer rubs his fingers through Brendon's hair and says, "Yeah."
Brendon doesn't say anything else, but Spencer knows that Brendon's parents aren't going to be there, and they're really the only reason Brendon would have done it anyway. It's the same reason he didn't just get his GED after they kicked him out. Deep down, Spencer knows Brendon's still waiting for them to forgive him.
Spencer pulls Brendon closer and kisses his cheek.
Spencer can't stop thinking about Brendon and Brendon's parents and how basically Brendon has screwed his entire life up to be in the band, and he doesn't really know how to fix it, or even if he can, but he wants to try. He really just wants to do something nice for Brendon, something that'll make him smile.
He pulls out every penny he has in his savings account and takes Brendon out to dinner to celebrate Brendon's graduation and the band and the record deal and the fact that Spencer's pretty sure he's kind of crazy in love with Brendon. They eat steak, and drink Dr Pepper, and order three desserts, which they share and eat in their entirety. Afterward, they walk to Spencer's car together and Brendon grabs Spencer's hand when they cross the parking lot. They get in the car, and Spencer takes a left out of the parking lot when a right would take them back to Brendon's apartment.
"Where are we going now?" Brendon asks. He's smiling over at Spencer, and he has his hand splayed out over his full belly, and he looks relaxed and happy, and Spencer wants to keep him that way.
Spencer's palms are sweating when he says, "I rented a hotel room."
Brendon's eyes get wide, panicked and he swallows and says, whisper-low, "Spencer."
"I don't... We don't have to do anything," Spencer says earnestly. "I just... It's a nice hotel. We can just go and watch cable and sleep on a bed with an actual frame and headboard. It doesn't have to be a big deal."
Brendon lets out a breath and swallows and nods, and they drive the rest of the way in silence.
Spencer's hands are shaking when he tries to slide the key card into the door, and he keeps getting the stupid red light until finally, on his fifth try, Brendon takes the key from his hand, slides it in and gets the green light. Spencer doesn't want to think too hard about what that means.
Once they're inside, Brendon turns around and pulls Spencer's head down a couple of inches and kisses him on the mouth.
Spencer settles his hands on Brendon's hips, slides them up under the hem of Brendon's shirt and splays his hands, warm and tentative, on Brendon's back. Brendon shivers, his skin and muscle moving smoothly under Spencer's hands.
Spencer lets Brendon set the pace, the mood, and Brendon kisses him slow and smooth, like they're both drunk on the taste of each other's mouths alone. Spencer feels like he's sinking; his heart is beating hard in his throat and chest, and Brendon is kissing him along his jaw and down his neck to his collarbone, his fingers moving slow and stupid on Spencer's button-down shirt.
It's all pretty hazy, and Spencer wants to touch every inch of Brendon's skin until there isn't any place on Brendon's body where he won't be feeling Spencer later.
Spencer has lube and condoms -- he didn't want to assume, but he had hoped -- and he prays that Brendon doesn't get the wrong idea when he stops kissing him long enough to go fetch the paper bag he brought up before he picked up Brendon for dinner.
When he turns back around, Brendon has tossed his shirt aside and is working on unbuttoning his pants, and Spencer watches him as he slides them over his hip bones, toeing off his shoes as he drops his pants to the floor and steps out of them.
Spencer tosses the bag back on the bed and walks over to Brendon and kisses him again. Brendon wraps his hands around the back of Spencer's neck and they move together, Brendon walking backwards until the backs of his thighs hit the bed, and then Spencer presses him back until he's laid out, his legs hanging over the edge at his knees. Spencer hooks his fingers in Brendon's briefs and pulls, but doesn't ever take his eyes off Brendon's, just in case Brendon wants to stop and he doesn't know how to say so.
Brendon closes his eyes, and Spencer falls to his knees between Brendon's legs. He's never done this, and he's nervous. He's gotten head before, from some of Ryan's MySpace friends and from the girl he took to his Junior Prom, so he's not completely clueless about how it works, but he's never been on this end of it. And Brendon hasn't let them move much past rubbing against each other and the occasional handjob, but he's letting him now, and Spencer really, really doesn't want to fuck this up.
He kisses the side of Brendon's knee and then watches, fascinated, as the muscles in Brendon's stomach jump. He does it again, a little higher, and noses along Brendon's thigh, mapping out a path with lips and teeth. Brendon's thigh is milky white and firm, and the closer Spencer gets to Brendon's cock, the better he smells, like Brendon, but different, more. Brendon is hard and leaking against his stomach and Spencer closes his eyes and shudders, a little awestruck that he's the cause of it.
He wraps his hand around the base of Brendon's cock, and Brendon makes a noise in the back of his throat that Spencer interprets as approval. He licks experimentally at the head, and Brendon moans.
The taste isn't bad exactly, a little salty, but underneath that, Spencer is acutely aware that it's Brendon, and that makes it good somehow. Spencer takes Brendon all the way into his mouth as far as he can, and hums his approval when Brendon twists his fingers in Spencer's hair and bucks his hips up erratically.
It doesn't take long, five minutes maybe, and then Brendon is saying Spencer's name, breathy and frantic, but Spencer doesn't pull off, just sucks harder until Brendon comes in his mouth. It's messy, and Spencer can't swallow it all; some of it slides out along his chin, but he doesn't care.
Brendon is still breathing hard, sweat lightly coating his body, and Spencer makes quick work of his own clothes, and then crawls up the bed, kissing lightly at Brendon's hip, belly button, chest, and clavicle until Brendon's eyes flutter open and Spencer kisses him on the mouth.
"Hey," Spencer says, and Brendon smiles and leans up to kiss at Spencer's mouth again.
"Hi," Brendon says.
They stay like that for awhile, just touching and kissing and breathing into each other's mouths, until Brendon's fingers eventually find their way around Spencer's cock. "I could try and blow you," Brendon says quietly.
Spencer shivers and closes his eyes tight, because he thinks he could actually come from this, Brendon's voice, and Brendon's hand, loose around his cock. "Okay," Spencer says.
Brendon hesitates for a minute and then kisses Spencer hard before he says, "Or, you could fuck me if you want to."
Spencer stops breathing for a second, all the air rushing from his lungs suddenly, and he kind of forgets how to pull it back in. It takes Brendon touching his cheek lightly to bring him back, and then he sucks in a breath and says, "If you're sure. Yes, please. Brendon."
Brendon reaches for the brown bag still laying on the bed and when he twists back around, Spencer kisses him.
He puts Brendon on his hands and knees, and it's awkward, strange, and Brendon breathes hard when Spencer pushes in the first lubed finger. "Easy, I got you," Spencer says. He works his finger in and out slowly and sends a silent prayer of thanks to the Internet when he crooks his finger and Brendon lets out a euphoric moan. "Want another one?" Spencer asks as he crooks his finger again.
Brendon says, "Oh, God. Oh, fuck," and Spencer thinks that means yes, so he pulls his finger out, squirts more lube over his fingers, and goes back in with two.
Brendon's spine arches, and Spencer leans forward to lay kisses along the knobby bones. Brendon's skin is warm and flushed, and Spencer watches him, fascinated, as he presses his fingers in and crooks them. Every time Spencer pushes into Brendon's prostate, Brendon whines pathetically, and Spencer's so hard, so ready, that he thinks he was wrong before. He could actually come just from this, Brendon's noises, and the arched, needy line of Brendon's back, and Spencer's fingers surrounded by tight, hot muscle. Spencer can't even contemplate his cock taking the place of his fingers right now, or this is all going to be over before it starts.
"Are you ready?" Spencer asks, and he's trying to sound firm, sure, but he sounds mostly desperate and pathetic to his own ears.
The muscles in Brendon's shoulders tighten, and Spencer's not sure if it's reservation, or a reaction to Spencer tapping Brendon's prostate one last time, but Brendon says, "Yes, yes. Please," so Spencer pulls his fingers out and rolls a condom on.
It's a tight fit, and Spencer nudges in as slowly as he can, but he can still tell by the way Brendon is holding himself, by the noises he's making, that Spencer is hurting him.
"I can stop," Spencer says, even though the idea of it makes him want to cry.
Brendon shakes his head and says, "No. It hurts, but it's not bad. Just... I don't know. Move or something."
Spencer rocks his hips experimentally and Brendon makes a noise, different and better than before, so Spencer does it again. They get a rhythm going, and before too long, Brendon is rocking back into Spencer's thrusts. It's amazing, so good, and Brendon finally says, "Spencer, please, please," and Spencer reaches underneath Brendon and wraps his hand around Brendon's cock.
It takes exactly four strokes, and Spencer's thumb pressing hard under the head of Brendon's dick, and then Brendon is coming in hot spurts over Spencer's fist. Brendon's spine goes rigid, and his shoulders shake, and every muscle around Spencer's dick tightens until Spencer's eyes roll back in his head, and his own orgasm hits him hard.
Brendon slumps forward and Spencer falls pretty much on top of him. Spencer knows it can't be comfortable, and as soon as he's able, he pulls out of Brendon's body gently and rearranges them so that Brendon is lying along his side, their legs tangled together.
Brendon snakes his arms around Spencer's hips. Spencer knows that if they stay like this, Brendon's arm will probably fall asleep from lack of circulation, but Brendon doesn't seem to care, so Spencer tries not to worry about it.
Brendon tucks his face against Spencer's neck, and tucks one hand in Spencer's hair. They're wrapped up together, so twisted and intertwined that Spencer doesn't think he can tell what's his and what's Brendon's anymore. Brendon lays a sleepy, open-mouthed kiss to Spencer's neck, and Spencer's heart twists, hard and vicious in his chest, and Spencer knows without a doubt that he won't be getting it back come morning.
In June, they move up to Maryland to record the album. Ryan and Brendon fight a lot about the vocals. Spencer knows they're both frustrated because Ryan has this idea of what each song should sound like and no real way to convey that to Brendon. It's easier with Brent and Spencer, because their instruments are constant and unchanging in a way that Brendon's voice isn't. Sometimes, Brent can't get certain parts down right, but Brendon is more than capable on the bass, and he just picks up the slack in that department too.
"You're not doing it right," Ryan says as he pulls his guitar over his head and throws it down a little too hard.
Spencer winces, and Brent ambles off to the side stage, and takes his sidekick out, already used to -- and bored by -- Ryan's tantrums.
Brendon closes his eyes and sighs and says calmly, "Well, why don't you explain it to me again."
"I've explained it to you a hundred times already, and you still don't get it. You're fucking hopeless, Brendon."
"Maybe you just suck at communication, Ryan," Brendon says sweetly. "It's probably not a coincidence that everyone who's had any contact with you since we got here thinks you're an uptight, prissy bitch."
Ryan's cheeks flame red and Spencer stands up to get in between them, but he's a second too late: Ryan rears back and slaps Brendon hard across the cheek.
"Ryan!" Spencer says sharply, but Ryan is already storming out the door, his shoulders held so tightly that Spencer thinks someone could probably snap him with a touch.
The room gets eerily quiet after Ryan's exit, and Brendon stares over Spencer's shoulder for a few seconds, just breathing in and out slowly, until Spencer takes a step toward him. Then, Brendon snaps to attention, takes a step back, and says, "Just go after him. I know you want to."
The thing is, Spencer does want to. He's spent more than a decade of his life going after Ryan, but he also wants to grab on to Brendon and hug him and maybe kiss him, but he doesn't think Brendon will let him right now. Ryan, he knows, will let Spencer wrap his arms around him, hug him, comfort him -- and it really sucks being stuck in the middle. Spencer doesn't like it at all.
"Brendon," Spencer says softly, and it sounds like a question and an apology all at once.
Brendon closes his eyes and takes another step back and says, "Just go."
There's nothing he can say to Brendon right now that won't sound like an excuse, so he goes to deal with Ryan. Ryan he can navigate with his eyes closed.
He finds Ryan outside smoking a cigarette, and he rolls his eyes. Ryan has this thing where he tries to act more grown up than he really is by emulating whatever someone else is doing; their producer smokes like a chimney stack, so Ryan picked up the habit a few weeks ago.
"Hey," Spencer says, sitting down next to Ryan and bumping their shoulders together.
Ryan turns his head away from Spencer and blows smoke out of his mouth awkwardly. Ryan's in this amazingly gawky stage where pretty much everything he does is awkward. "I figured you'd be inside soothing your boyfriend's hurt feelings," Ryan says nonchalantly.
Spencer raises an eyebrow, because they haven't exactly talked about Brendon, but Ryan's known Spencer forever, and Ryan isn't stupid, so of course he knows.
"He isn't my boyfriend," Spencer says, because he's not, or well, they haven't really talked about it in terms of labels. Honestly, Spencer doesn't know what they are, just that whatever it is, Spencer would like to keep being it for a long, long time.
"You're having sex with him, and when you're not having sex with him, you're staring at him all moony-eyed, like you'd like to be having sex with him. I'd say you're his boyfriend," Ryan says.
"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean I'm not your friend anymore," Spencer says.
Ryan shrugs and tilts his head back so that he has to squint his eyes at the sun. "I wish I had his voice," Ryan says before he rubs his right eye with the heel of his hand.
Spencer's quiet for a minute, trying to figure out how hard he can push, until he remembers that this is Ryan, not Brendon, and there's never a distance he can push Ryan that's too far for him to reach. "I think maybe he wishes that, too. Then he wouldn't always feel imperfect every time you look at him," Spencer says, watching Ryan's face closely.
Ryan inhales sharply and squeezes his eyes shut tight before he gets up off the bench and throws his cigarette butt on the ground.
"Where are you going?" Spencer asks gently.
"To apologize to your boyfriend and then finish making this album before we kill each other. You wanna come play the drums?" Ryan says.
Spencer smiles and follows him inside.
PART TWO
PART THREE
Fanmixes and Fanart