(no subject)
Title: If You Don't Have Anything Productive To Say, Suck It
Pairing: Spencer/Mikey/Gerard, established Mikey/Gerard, past Spencer/Ryan
Rating: nc17
Wordcount: 2327
Warnings: All D/s negotiation is off-screen. Spencer gets involved in something he doesn't really get, although there is enthusiastic consent. Reclaiming slurs.
Summary: Spencer kisses Mikey the first time because he's being a brat. Gerard knows exactly how to respond to Mikey's bratting.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Calling himself the nurse’s helper makes it seem like he’s in third grade. It’s really nothing like that at all. Spencer’s not handing out hole punched sheets, or doing roll call. Or really, doing anything helpful. Though, to be fair, the nurse doesn’t do anything that needs help.
It’s supposed to be an extra credit program. Spencer’s got a spare and volunteering with the nurse shows initiative. It’s the kind of shit that looks good on an application, which is good for him. The situation is also good for her; she takes his arrival as a cue to take an hour long smoke break. Neither he or she are worried about it. Hardly anyone ever comes in sick, and if they do he can escort them to the plastic covered foam bed just as well as she could.
It’s a spare like any other when a kid comes in with a red eye and split lip. There’s a smear of blood under his nostrils, but any drops of blood have been swallowed by his t-shirt. It’s a horrible t-shirt. The collar is stretched like the kid tried to push a watermelon through it. It would be sexy and provocative, except it’s clear the guy doesn’t give a shit.
With the nurse gone, it’s officially Spencer’s job to fix him. Spencer panics for a moment before cracking open the mini-fridge that holds the medication the students aren’t allowed to have on them. The top of the fridge has a freezer about the size of a loaf of bread and it’s stuffed with ice cube trays. Spencer pulls out a tray and twists either edge in opposite directions to separate the edges of the ice from the plastic. It makes it easier to pluck a few cubes out and put them in a produce sized plastic bag. Once he ties a knot in the top he passes the bag to the boy. The guy takes it without a word. He doesn’t put it on either of his wounds, just keeps texting.
“Put that ice on your lip. It’s gonna swell.”
The kid -it’s entirely possible he’s older than him, but Spencer’s allowed to think kid when he’s doing something in an official capacity- ignores him.
Spencer rolls his eyes. The boy won’t see him doing it, eyes focused only on his cellphone, but Spencer feels better for it. Sometimes you just have to get your bitchy flamer on. Ryan would agree, if he was here. “Fine. Whatever. Don’t. But it’ll swell.”
“You’re the nurse. Kiss it better.”
And the thing is, not only is Spencer a fag, he’s a reckless one. It’s not that he doesn’t care anymore. It’s that he cares too much. He’s man enough to admit to having emotions. More specifically, for the last two months he’s pretty much constantly felt pissed off and hurt. Ryan is busy being a fag in college, never even considering the possibilities he left behind in Summerlin. So when the weedy punk kid says it Spencer doesn’t roll his eyes a second time, and he doesn’t come up with a cutting remark. He just thinks fuck it and bends down for a kiss.
To his infinite surprise, the kid kisses back. The kiss has an attitude to it, just like his unwashed hair and brown with street filth sneakers and ratty t-shirt. Spencer’s not sure if he’s ever been kissed sarcastically before. It is for sure his first kiss that’s tasted bloody. Neither is enough to make him pull back.
The kiss doesn’t stop until the guy’s phone bleeps with another text. The guy disengages immediately, leaning to the side to read it when Spencer doesn’t move quickly enough. Spencer takes the hint and moves back to the bed in the corner where he’s got his English novel out, pages scattered with post-its so he can remember what he wants to quote when he’s writing the inevitable essay. If the kid wants to sit here texting until the end of the period, Spencer really doesn’t care enough to try to hustle him out.
It’s a quiet ten minutes, silence only occasionally broken by the texts coming in. Then the peace is obliterated by guy bursting into the room, door shuddering with the force of it slamming into the wall. Spencer thinks for a brief moment it’s the kid’s opponent. They’re both rocking the band shirt and lack of hygiene look, the only differences being the advertised band and that Black Eye Kid has ratty short brown hair and Intruder Kid has ratty long black hair. They’re obviously the same kind of person. Maybe they fought about a sub-genre classification. Rock kids get pretty intense about that shit, only second to indie hipster kids.
“Mikey, I’m like ninety percent sure I parked in a no parking zone. Do you have all your shit so we can leave?”
“He’s not actually sick,” Spencer feels compelled to point out.
He whirls around, acknowledging a second body in the room for the first time. “Who the fuck are you?”
Spencer refused to feel intimidated, even though the guy’s got crazy eyes. He shrugs and puts another post-it on the open page. It doesn’t technically reference anything, but doing something with his hands gives him an excuse to break eye contact.
“Don’t worry about it Gee. Nurse kissed me better.”
“Yeah? Let’s see.” Gee bends forward and kisses the brunet hard enough that Spencer’s sure it has to hurt his bruised lips. His opinion is verified when Mikey breaks away with a gasp. “I guess not.”
Gee sticks his tongue out and runs it the length of his lip, finally landing on the bloody impression the split made. Mikey gasps again, a sexier quality to it. “Gerard.”
“You need to get yourself a better nurse.”
And it’s stupid, it’s fucking stupid, but he finds his temper flaring up again. A month ago Spencer might have been shocked. That was before Ryan told him about going into a handicapped stall with a girl and a guy both, fingering her and jerking him off at the same time. Compared to that a kiss is nothing. Spencer’s gonna do more. For once he’s going to have a story Ryan’s going to be stunned to hear the next time he comes home.
Spencer gets off the bed, book tossed to the side. Crossing the room to close the door only takes a few strides. It doesn’t lock, but seeing as Mikey and Gerard are the first ones to come in during his volunteering time slot in the last three weeks, he’s not exactly worried another person will come in. From there he turns and joins the two of them, dropping to his knees in front of Gerard. He’s assuming Gerard will want it, but if not at least he’ll only get shoved away from one direction. Mikey can’t be mad at Spencer for trying it, not when he cheated on his boyfriend five minutes ago.
Mikey’s not angry. Rude, on the other hand- that seems to fit his persona quite well. “Wow. That’s the first time I’ve seen your ass. Rhinestone pockets? You really are queer.”
“Mikey.” Gerard doesn’t sound impressed. Spencer expects him to maybe hit his boyfriend, at least a punch on the arm. They both look like the fists with meanings type. Gerard doesn’t, instead does something strange. He plucks the bag of ice out of Mikey’s hand and tears a hole in it. “Open up.”
Mikey frowns. He’s either not sure what Gerard means, or not interested in following weird requests. Gerard slaps his face lightly a few times. Spencer wouldn’t call it a violent move, just physical instruction as compared to verbal. When Gerard repeats himself, open up, Mikey does. Gerard’s next action is putting an ice cube on Mikey’s tongue. “Suck on it while he blows me. After it’s done, then you can talk.”
Spencer’s eyes widen at the order. There’s no other word for it, Gerard ordered him. Mikey eyelids shutter half closed. The look on his face is something Spencer thinks he’s never seen before. Even distorted by the way his jaw is dropped, lips pursed closed, Mikey looks happy. Blissful. Unless he’s just got an ice fetish, Mikey’s blissed out because his boyfriend ordered him to do something.
That’s so hot.
Gerard turns from Mikey to look back down at Spencer, who’s still on his knees. “Now that he’s done being a bitch, by all means continue.”
Spencer glares automatically, studying Gerard to see if he’s mocking him too. There’s nothing about Gerard’s expression that makes him untrustworthy. His words are genuine, if assholishly phrased. Feeling something, maybe a sliver of what Mikey is, Spencer tugs at the zipper of Gerard’s jeans and only feels satisfied when he’s got Gerard’s cock in hand.
He slides his hand up and down Gerard’s length a few times. It’s not the first time Spencer’s had another boy’s dick in his hand, but it’s different, the way Mikey is watching them. Spencer keeps looking at him, like Mikey will burst into a Russian judge critique. The only way to make himself stop is to do something that takes a bit more concentration. Spencer leans forward to suck the head of Gerard’s cock into his mouth. It’s already drooling precome. The streak on his tongue is a new experience for Spencer. Ryan always insisted on condoms. It’s not the worst taste in the world, though it’s no Coke Slurpee. Spencer would rather have a condom, for the taste barrier as much as the safety. Unfortunately that’s pretty much impossible. The school got money for switching to abstinence only education, so there are no helpful pamphlets, and no condoms on the premises. He’s just gotta hope and pray that the lack of open sores really does mean a lack of STIs.
Spencer doesn’t hate it, but it’s obvious that both of the boyfriends are enjoying it more than he is. Gerard’s rocking forward, just taking his mouth like it’s his. With the way he and Mikey are, maybe that’s the usual for him. Mikey is staring for all he’s worth. When Spencer gives in and lets Gerard control everything, hands on his ass loosening as he’s no longer trying to hold the reins, Mikey reacts. The words aren’t very clear around the ice cube, but it sounds like suck it.
“Don’t think I won’t make you be quiet.” Gerard sounds incredibly composed for a guy that’s getting a blowjob. Spencer’s kind of impressed. The threat implies a whole range of things, and if Mikey’s full body shudder is anything to go by, he likes the thought of all of them. Hell, Spencer thinks he might like some of them. Once he gets home after school, he has Googling to do. This is obviously a whole thing for them, and Spencer wants to know more.
For now though, he needs to suck Gerard off, and then get off himself. The first is easier to accomplish. Even the sternest of -dominatrixes, Spencer thinks they’re called?- can only withstand so much throatfucking before they come. Gerard’s fingers are heavily curled into his hair, face against his pubes when it happens. There’s no warning, no penultimate groan, no chance of kneewalking a few steps back in time. Gerard just holds him in place as he comes, and Spencer tries to swallow so he doesn’t choke.
“You taste like me. Share it with him.”
Well, fuck. Fuck if that isn’t one of the hottest things he’s ever heard in his life. And Spencer’s watched a good amount of porn. He stands and takes the one step needed to be in Mikey’s space. For all the dirty look, he actually smells pretty good. Spencer angles his head and leans up a little for the kiss. Mikey’s mouth is freezing cold. A sliver of ice still rests on his tongue before it gets swept away by Spencer’s. Spencer spares a second to wonder if Mikey can even feel him, or if his whole mouth is numb with cold, then decides he doesn’t care. Gerard wants them to kiss. The way things have been going Mikey’s probably enjoying the kissing as an order, even if he’s not enjoying it as physical sensation.
Mikey’s hands are just as possessive on his hips as Gerard’s were on his head. Spencer can feel how hard Mikey is, the bulge of his jeans is rubbing against his thigh. It’s impossible to avoid the feeling, and Spencer doesn’t want to. At this point he’s perfectly fine with making a mess of his jeans, as long as he gets off. He jams his body forward, and Mikey presses back, and forward and back and Mikey’s tongue is still cold in his mouth, and he tastes different than Gerard did, and fuck, he just can’t help it. It’s nasty, but as Spencer comes he separates just enough that he can bite on Mikey’s abused lip. Mikey gasps, the sexiest time yet, fingers clenching down hard.
Spencer doesn’t give himself time for afterglow. Instead he goes for the no name brand kleenex and tries to wipe out his underwear before they stain wet. He holds out the box for Mikey to take. Mikey only looks at Gerard.
“Come on. Let’s go. If they actually call about skipping I’ll explain to Mom. It’s still your job to explain the fight though.”
“The guy deserved it,” Mikey replies as he adjusts his t-shirt. It’s ratty and stretched enough that it covers his crotch.
“Yeah. I know.”
Spencer watches them leave. He thinks he should probably be freaked out, but he’s not. The only thing better than ‘I had a BDSM threesome in the nurse’s office’ is ‘I had a BDSM threesome in the nurse’s office with hot brothers.’ Ryan is going to pass out when Spencer tells him.
Pairing: Spencer/Mikey/Gerard, established Mikey/Gerard, past Spencer/Ryan
Rating: nc17
Wordcount: 2327
Warnings: All D/s negotiation is off-screen. Spencer gets involved in something he doesn't really get, although there is enthusiastic consent. Reclaiming slurs.
Summary: Spencer kisses Mikey the first time because he's being a brat. Gerard knows exactly how to respond to Mikey's bratting.
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission.
Calling himself the nurse’s helper makes it seem like he’s in third grade. It’s really nothing like that at all. Spencer’s not handing out hole punched sheets, or doing roll call. Or really, doing anything helpful. Though, to be fair, the nurse doesn’t do anything that needs help.
It’s supposed to be an extra credit program. Spencer’s got a spare and volunteering with the nurse shows initiative. It’s the kind of shit that looks good on an application, which is good for him. The situation is also good for her; she takes his arrival as a cue to take an hour long smoke break. Neither he or she are worried about it. Hardly anyone ever comes in sick, and if they do he can escort them to the plastic covered foam bed just as well as she could.
It’s a spare like any other when a kid comes in with a red eye and split lip. There’s a smear of blood under his nostrils, but any drops of blood have been swallowed by his t-shirt. It’s a horrible t-shirt. The collar is stretched like the kid tried to push a watermelon through it. It would be sexy and provocative, except it’s clear the guy doesn’t give a shit.
With the nurse gone, it’s officially Spencer’s job to fix him. Spencer panics for a moment before cracking open the mini-fridge that holds the medication the students aren’t allowed to have on them. The top of the fridge has a freezer about the size of a loaf of bread and it’s stuffed with ice cube trays. Spencer pulls out a tray and twists either edge in opposite directions to separate the edges of the ice from the plastic. It makes it easier to pluck a few cubes out and put them in a produce sized plastic bag. Once he ties a knot in the top he passes the bag to the boy. The guy takes it without a word. He doesn’t put it on either of his wounds, just keeps texting.
“Put that ice on your lip. It’s gonna swell.”
The kid -it’s entirely possible he’s older than him, but Spencer’s allowed to think kid when he’s doing something in an official capacity- ignores him.
Spencer rolls his eyes. The boy won’t see him doing it, eyes focused only on his cellphone, but Spencer feels better for it. Sometimes you just have to get your bitchy flamer on. Ryan would agree, if he was here. “Fine. Whatever. Don’t. But it’ll swell.”
“You’re the nurse. Kiss it better.”
And the thing is, not only is Spencer a fag, he’s a reckless one. It’s not that he doesn’t care anymore. It’s that he cares too much. He’s man enough to admit to having emotions. More specifically, for the last two months he’s pretty much constantly felt pissed off and hurt. Ryan is busy being a fag in college, never even considering the possibilities he left behind in Summerlin. So when the weedy punk kid says it Spencer doesn’t roll his eyes a second time, and he doesn’t come up with a cutting remark. He just thinks fuck it and bends down for a kiss.
To his infinite surprise, the kid kisses back. The kiss has an attitude to it, just like his unwashed hair and brown with street filth sneakers and ratty t-shirt. Spencer’s not sure if he’s ever been kissed sarcastically before. It is for sure his first kiss that’s tasted bloody. Neither is enough to make him pull back.
The kiss doesn’t stop until the guy’s phone bleeps with another text. The guy disengages immediately, leaning to the side to read it when Spencer doesn’t move quickly enough. Spencer takes the hint and moves back to the bed in the corner where he’s got his English novel out, pages scattered with post-its so he can remember what he wants to quote when he’s writing the inevitable essay. If the kid wants to sit here texting until the end of the period, Spencer really doesn’t care enough to try to hustle him out.
It’s a quiet ten minutes, silence only occasionally broken by the texts coming in. Then the peace is obliterated by guy bursting into the room, door shuddering with the force of it slamming into the wall. Spencer thinks for a brief moment it’s the kid’s opponent. They’re both rocking the band shirt and lack of hygiene look, the only differences being the advertised band and that Black Eye Kid has ratty short brown hair and Intruder Kid has ratty long black hair. They’re obviously the same kind of person. Maybe they fought about a sub-genre classification. Rock kids get pretty intense about that shit, only second to indie hipster kids.
“Mikey, I’m like ninety percent sure I parked in a no parking zone. Do you have all your shit so we can leave?”
“He’s not actually sick,” Spencer feels compelled to point out.
He whirls around, acknowledging a second body in the room for the first time. “Who the fuck are you?”
Spencer refused to feel intimidated, even though the guy’s got crazy eyes. He shrugs and puts another post-it on the open page. It doesn’t technically reference anything, but doing something with his hands gives him an excuse to break eye contact.
“Don’t worry about it Gee. Nurse kissed me better.”
“Yeah? Let’s see.” Gee bends forward and kisses the brunet hard enough that Spencer’s sure it has to hurt his bruised lips. His opinion is verified when Mikey breaks away with a gasp. “I guess not.”
Gee sticks his tongue out and runs it the length of his lip, finally landing on the bloody impression the split made. Mikey gasps again, a sexier quality to it. “Gerard.”
“You need to get yourself a better nurse.”
And it’s stupid, it’s fucking stupid, but he finds his temper flaring up again. A month ago Spencer might have been shocked. That was before Ryan told him about going into a handicapped stall with a girl and a guy both, fingering her and jerking him off at the same time. Compared to that a kiss is nothing. Spencer’s gonna do more. For once he’s going to have a story Ryan’s going to be stunned to hear the next time he comes home.
Spencer gets off the bed, book tossed to the side. Crossing the room to close the door only takes a few strides. It doesn’t lock, but seeing as Mikey and Gerard are the first ones to come in during his volunteering time slot in the last three weeks, he’s not exactly worried another person will come in. From there he turns and joins the two of them, dropping to his knees in front of Gerard. He’s assuming Gerard will want it, but if not at least he’ll only get shoved away from one direction. Mikey can’t be mad at Spencer for trying it, not when he cheated on his boyfriend five minutes ago.
Mikey’s not angry. Rude, on the other hand- that seems to fit his persona quite well. “Wow. That’s the first time I’ve seen your ass. Rhinestone pockets? You really are queer.”
“Mikey.” Gerard doesn’t sound impressed. Spencer expects him to maybe hit his boyfriend, at least a punch on the arm. They both look like the fists with meanings type. Gerard doesn’t, instead does something strange. He plucks the bag of ice out of Mikey’s hand and tears a hole in it. “Open up.”
Mikey frowns. He’s either not sure what Gerard means, or not interested in following weird requests. Gerard slaps his face lightly a few times. Spencer wouldn’t call it a violent move, just physical instruction as compared to verbal. When Gerard repeats himself, open up, Mikey does. Gerard’s next action is putting an ice cube on Mikey’s tongue. “Suck on it while he blows me. After it’s done, then you can talk.”
Spencer’s eyes widen at the order. There’s no other word for it, Gerard ordered him. Mikey eyelids shutter half closed. The look on his face is something Spencer thinks he’s never seen before. Even distorted by the way his jaw is dropped, lips pursed closed, Mikey looks happy. Blissful. Unless he’s just got an ice fetish, Mikey’s blissed out because his boyfriend ordered him to do something.
That’s so hot.
Gerard turns from Mikey to look back down at Spencer, who’s still on his knees. “Now that he’s done being a bitch, by all means continue.”
Spencer glares automatically, studying Gerard to see if he’s mocking him too. There’s nothing about Gerard’s expression that makes him untrustworthy. His words are genuine, if assholishly phrased. Feeling something, maybe a sliver of what Mikey is, Spencer tugs at the zipper of Gerard’s jeans and only feels satisfied when he’s got Gerard’s cock in hand.
He slides his hand up and down Gerard’s length a few times. It’s not the first time Spencer’s had another boy’s dick in his hand, but it’s different, the way Mikey is watching them. Spencer keeps looking at him, like Mikey will burst into a Russian judge critique. The only way to make himself stop is to do something that takes a bit more concentration. Spencer leans forward to suck the head of Gerard’s cock into his mouth. It’s already drooling precome. The streak on his tongue is a new experience for Spencer. Ryan always insisted on condoms. It’s not the worst taste in the world, though it’s no Coke Slurpee. Spencer would rather have a condom, for the taste barrier as much as the safety. Unfortunately that’s pretty much impossible. The school got money for switching to abstinence only education, so there are no helpful pamphlets, and no condoms on the premises. He’s just gotta hope and pray that the lack of open sores really does mean a lack of STIs.
Spencer doesn’t hate it, but it’s obvious that both of the boyfriends are enjoying it more than he is. Gerard’s rocking forward, just taking his mouth like it’s his. With the way he and Mikey are, maybe that’s the usual for him. Mikey is staring for all he’s worth. When Spencer gives in and lets Gerard control everything, hands on his ass loosening as he’s no longer trying to hold the reins, Mikey reacts. The words aren’t very clear around the ice cube, but it sounds like suck it.
“Don’t think I won’t make you be quiet.” Gerard sounds incredibly composed for a guy that’s getting a blowjob. Spencer’s kind of impressed. The threat implies a whole range of things, and if Mikey’s full body shudder is anything to go by, he likes the thought of all of them. Hell, Spencer thinks he might like some of them. Once he gets home after school, he has Googling to do. This is obviously a whole thing for them, and Spencer wants to know more.
For now though, he needs to suck Gerard off, and then get off himself. The first is easier to accomplish. Even the sternest of -dominatrixes, Spencer thinks they’re called?- can only withstand so much throatfucking before they come. Gerard’s fingers are heavily curled into his hair, face against his pubes when it happens. There’s no warning, no penultimate groan, no chance of kneewalking a few steps back in time. Gerard just holds him in place as he comes, and Spencer tries to swallow so he doesn’t choke.
“You taste like me. Share it with him.”
Well, fuck. Fuck if that isn’t one of the hottest things he’s ever heard in his life. And Spencer’s watched a good amount of porn. He stands and takes the one step needed to be in Mikey’s space. For all the dirty look, he actually smells pretty good. Spencer angles his head and leans up a little for the kiss. Mikey’s mouth is freezing cold. A sliver of ice still rests on his tongue before it gets swept away by Spencer’s. Spencer spares a second to wonder if Mikey can even feel him, or if his whole mouth is numb with cold, then decides he doesn’t care. Gerard wants them to kiss. The way things have been going Mikey’s probably enjoying the kissing as an order, even if he’s not enjoying it as physical sensation.
Mikey’s hands are just as possessive on his hips as Gerard’s were on his head. Spencer can feel how hard Mikey is, the bulge of his jeans is rubbing against his thigh. It’s impossible to avoid the feeling, and Spencer doesn’t want to. At this point he’s perfectly fine with making a mess of his jeans, as long as he gets off. He jams his body forward, and Mikey presses back, and forward and back and Mikey’s tongue is still cold in his mouth, and he tastes different than Gerard did, and fuck, he just can’t help it. It’s nasty, but as Spencer comes he separates just enough that he can bite on Mikey’s abused lip. Mikey gasps, the sexiest time yet, fingers clenching down hard.
Spencer doesn’t give himself time for afterglow. Instead he goes for the no name brand kleenex and tries to wipe out his underwear before they stain wet. He holds out the box for Mikey to take. Mikey only looks at Gerard.
“Come on. Let’s go. If they actually call about skipping I’ll explain to Mom. It’s still your job to explain the fight though.”
“The guy deserved it,” Mikey replies as he adjusts his t-shirt. It’s ratty and stretched enough that it covers his crotch.
“Yeah. I know.”
Spencer watches them leave. He thinks he should probably be freaked out, but he’s not. The only thing better than ‘I had a BDSM threesome in the nurse’s office’ is ‘I had a BDSM threesome in the nurse’s office with hot brothers.’ Ryan is going to pass out when Spencer tells him.