Need You Wild 12/12
Link to full header and warnings - Link to part 11
"Okay, so first of all," Shane says as he climbs out of his car and starts loading Jon down with camera bags, "I've been putting out ads on Craigslist for participants in my werewolf short film, and dude, you would not believe the weirdos out there. Some dude came to the house and he ate a pound of raw ground meat in front of me to prove he was a werewolf. And then he threw up on the floor."
"Dude," Brendon says sadly.
"I cleaned it up," Shane says. "And oh, hey, man," he moves in for a hug and then pulls back, shooting a glance at Spencer. "This cool?" he asks.
"Yes," Spencer says, entirely not annoyed even a little bit by everyone's reluctance to accept his new superior willpower. "I am secure in my relationship and confident in my self control."
"Dude," Jon says. "Is that, like, a mantra?"
"... Maybe a little," Spencer says. This is the last time he's listening to Ryan about anything, and he means it this time. "But whatever, it worked," Spencer says. "See? Shane is totally still alive."
"Which I appreciate, Foxy."
"Wait. What?" Spencer asks, confused.
"Teen Wolf," Shane says. "Michael J. Fox," like that completely explains it.
"You are not calling me Foxy," Spencer says, shooing Brendon away from the case with Shane's mobile rig and lifting it easily.
"But--" Brendon says.
"No," Spencer repeats sternly. "No one is calling me Foxy."
"Foxy Smith," Ryan says later as he takes a hit from the pipe Jon just packed for him, "would make an amazing porn name."
"Oh come on, who fucking told him?" Spencer groans, staring down at Brendon accusingly where Brendon's sitting against the bottom of the love seat between Spencer's knees. They're all taking a break to relax before they actually have to show Shane their material, because everyone but Ryan knows the wolf musical is shit. They're just postponing the inevitable, but Spencer is fine with that.
"Oops?" Shane says.
"I am seriously rethinking my stance on not murdering you," Spencer growls.
"I'm just saying," Ryan continues, waving the pipe around and sprinkling ashes all over himself. "If you're ever in a bind, you could make some fast money."
"Yeah," Jon says, taking the pipe out of Ryan's hand. "You're done."
"Great idea," Spencer says. "I'll go the whole route. Grow a pornstache, start wearing gold chains, inexplicably oil myself up."
"I could be into that last one," Brendon says, looking up at Spencer and grinning.
"Gross," Ryan says. "Oil is gross. One time when Spencer was little--"
"Do not tell this story," Spencer snaps.
"He poured oil on a garbage bag and skidded down a hill and ran into a tree."
"We were making a slip and slide," Spencer tries to explain. "Which was Ryan's idea in the first place."
"His legs just went straight up in the air!" Ryan says, laughing loudly. "And he had on these octopus swim trunks--"
"Oh, sweet," Shane pipes up.
"--and so it was like. An octopus. With legs. Which would freak me out."
"Well, yeah," Jon agrees. "By definition, octopi don't have legs."
"You know what I never understood about octopuses?" Ryan says. "How their little suckers don't stick to everything. Like, ploop ploop ploop," he says, demonstrating by pinching at Jon's face.
"Okay, you're going to stop that right now," Jon says.
"Like, why don't you just see thousands of octopuses, stuck to rocks and piers and stuff? Just clinging. All alone. That's sad."
"That's not how suction cups work," Brendon says.
"Once, when we were little," Ryan continues, "Spencer got a suction cup stuck to his nipple."
"Oh my god," Brendon says. "Oh my god, I have got to stop totally ignoring you when you're high, Ross, this is amazing."
"How does that even happen?" Jon asks with wide eyes.
Fuck Shane. Spencer might just murder everyone.
"Ryan," Brendon says when he slips into their room later that night, "is currently trying to play his guitar with a fork."
"How much more pot did he smoke?" Spencer asks blearily. He's been lying in bed for almost an hour, trying his very best not to be completely irrational. He can sleep without Brendon, it's just that he wasn't tired. The fact that he could hear Brendon downstairs giggling with Shane had nothing to do with it, and Spencer is really proud of the fact that that's only a little bit of a lie.
"It's an 'experiment in sound' apparently," Brendon says, falling heavily onto the bed. "It was kind of funny at first, but he's going to fuck up his strings and I'll have to restring it for him tomorrow, and that was before he suggested a steak knife."
"Jesus," Spencer groans.
"Yeah," Brendon says, getting up to strip his pants and shirt off before crawling back into bed and pressing himself down on top of Spencer, rocking forward so Spencer can feel that he's hard. "I had better things to do."
"Why did you even bother keeping your underwear on?" Spencer asks, genuinely curious as he grabs at Brendon's ass and presses him closer.
"Because I'm a gentleman," Brendon says, grinning down at Spencer.
"Yes, I could tell from the way you're rubbing your dick all over me right now," Spencer says, but he squeezes where his hands are holding Brendon's ass, arching his hips up a little so their cocks press together.
"Whatever, you like it," Brendon mumbles, his voice trailing off into a groan when Spencer slides his hands down the back of Brendon's underwear, squeezing at his skin.
"Yeah," Spencer replies, shoving Brendon's underwear down to his thighs, freeing his cock. "Yeah, I do."
Brendon doesn't even bother to move to take his underwear off the rest of the way. He just grinds down against Spencer, their cocks sliding together, a little wet already with Brendon's pre-come.
"What were you thinking about that you're already so close?" Spencer asks, his voice low, and it's not teasing. The dark, possessive part of him wants to know, wants to make sure Brendon was thinking of him. Brendon whines, tucking his face into Spencer's neck and mouthing at the skin, his hips pressing down in fast, jerky movements. The smell of his arousal gets stronger and stronger, and Spencer presses down harder on Brendon's ass, shifting underneath him to help with the friction.
"You. Sex. This, fuck, Spencer," Brendon moans, dragging his teeth over Spencer's collarbone. Spencer grunts and thrusts up harder, letting out a low, pleased noise.
"Good," he says, the heat twisting in his stomach whenever Brendon's cock is pressed close. It's not even the friction so much as it is the way Brendon's moving, sleepy and desperate and whining high in his throat. And knowing that Brendon was downstairs thinking about Spencer, about this, is a lot hotter than it should be.
"Yeah, yeah, c'mon," Spencer groans, and then Brendon's letting out a low moan and coming, hot and wet all over Spencer's cock, between their stomachs. Spencer doesn't stop shifting with Brendon or pressing Brendon down with the hands gripping his ass, and Brendon's whines are just starting to sound like it's too much when Spencer comes, rubbing slowly up with Brendon. He doesn't know where it comes from, but he's saying, "Mine, mine," when Brendon leans up to kiss him, fast and messy, their hips still shifting a little even as Brendon's cock goes soft.
"Yours," Brendon says breathlessly against his mouth. "Fuck, it did not take long for you to stockholm me into liking that."
"I know," Spencer says, pulling Brendon closer and nosing at his neck. "It's like a superpower."
"You have enough of those," Brendon says sleepily, shifting around on top of Spencer until he manages to get his underwear kicked off, only digging his elbows and knees into Spencer a little bit in the process.
"But that one's the most fun," Spencer says. "Maybe I can convince Ryan to cluck like a chicken every time he hears a certain word."
"Don't think it works like that," Brendon says, wrapping his arms around Spencer's shoulders and shifting until he's comfortable. "But we should totally take him to one of those hypnotists you see on TV."
"I don't know if those are real," Spencer says, starting to get sleepy himself now that Brendon is warm and heavy on top of him.
"I'll google it," Brendon says around a yawn. "Later. Sleeping is for now."
"Very astute," Spencer whispers in his ear, kissing Brendon's temple and nosing into his hair, breathing Brendon in before pulling away and settling in against the pillows.
Brendon and Spencer promised to make breakfast for everyone the next day, but Brendon is apparently firmly against leaving the bed. Or actually opening his eyes.
"Hey, Brendon, come on," Spencer says softly, leaning down to kiss the back of Brendon's shoulder and rub his hand in slow circles over Brendon's back. Brendon's breathing is still even and soft, his eyes firmly shut while he sleeps through Spencer's attempts to wake him up. Spencer resorts to desperate measures, but Brendon really has only himself to blame.
Spencer pulls down the covers and pushes Brendon over onto his back, rolling his eyes at how easy Brendon is to move while he's asleep. It just makes it easier, though, for Spencer to spread Brendon's legs apart, taking a moment to trail his hands over the goosebumps that form on Brendon's skin from the cool air of the room. He leans in and kisses at the inside of Brendon's thigh, glancing up in case Brendon stirs, but Brendon's breathing is still steady, his eyes closed and head tilted to the side on the pillow.
Brendon's cock is only half-hard when Spencer holds the base and swallows around the rest, the skin soft and a little bitter with the taste of come from the night before. Spencer sucks harder, his free hand coming up to cup Brendon's hip as Brendon's cock starts to swell in his mouth, filling up and getting stiffer. Only then does Brendon make a soft noise, shifting his hips a little underneath Spencer.
Spencer's swallowing faster now, hollowing out his cheeks and bobbing his head now that Brendon's hard and his cock is a warm weight on Spencer's tongue. Brendon makes a strangled moaning noise as he sits up suddenly, his hand grabbing blindly at Spencer's hair.
"What are you--"
"You wouldn't wake up," Spencer says when he pulls off Brendon's cock, his voice hoarse. He uses his hand to jerk Brendon a few times, and Brendon groans, lying back down.
"Shit. Shit, this is so much better than an alarm clock. How long--"
"For two hours, shut up." Spencer takes Brendon back into his mouth, already tasting pre-come when his tongue brushes over Brendon's slit. Brendon's hand is still resting in Spencer's hair, and Spencer kind of wishes Brendon would pull already, like he knows they both want.
"You have not been sucking my dick for two hou--"
Spencer lets his teeth graze just underneath the swollen head of Brendon's cock, and Brendon hisses and finally shuts up, slumping back against the pillows and tugging at Spencer's hair.
Spencer lets out a low noise in his throat as Brendon tugs, the little spikes of pain going straight to his cock, and it's not long at all before Brendon's rocking his hips up, trying to press deeper into Spencer's mouth.
"Spencer," he gasps, "fuck, maybe you were telling the truth, I'm--"
"I know, come on," Spencer says, pulling off of Brendon's cock and stroking at him. "We have like fifteen minutes to shower and go start breakfast."
"Are you seriously putting me on a time schedule right now?" Brendon asks, his hands pulling desperately at Spencer's hair.
"You still have to get me off in the shower," Spencer says. "I'm just being practical." Spencer leans back down to suck the head of Brendon's cock in, and Brendon comes with a noise that's half moan and half laugh, hot and sudden in Spencer's mouth.
Ryan has been weird and twitchy all day, manically insistent on playing some stuff for Shane as soon as possible. Spencer doesn't know when he went from actively avoiding letting Shane hear their stuff to trying to force it on him, but it makes Spencer's stomach coil up nervously. He's seen Ryan in these kinds of moods, and nothing good ever comes from it. Which is why he's not entirely surprised when Ryan finally cracks a few hours later, but he is a little surprised at how Ryan does it.
Spencer literally left the room for five minutes to go pay the pizza guy, so he isn't exactly sure how Ryan ended up on his back on the floor, hitting his guitar strings with one of Spencer's drumsticks. But there he is. And Shane is filming it, while Brendon is laughing hysterically on the floor next to Ryan.
"They've lost their goddamn minds," Jon explains carefully, plucking at the guitar in his lap. He's a safe distance away from the chaos, and Spencer walks over to him, careful not to trip over some water bottles. Their practice room is kind of a mess, and Spencer's really tempted to go grab his drumstick out of Ryan's hands before more damage is done. And maybe yank Brendon's jeans up, because they're sliding down his ass and Shane is filming, for fuck's sake. But Spencer controls himself and turns to Jon instead.
"What the fuck? Did they take something?" Ryan gets up and drops his guitar to the floor, and Spencer winces when it falls. Jon makes a sad noise but keeps talking over the sound of Brendon wailing one of their songs. Really, really badly. It doesn't help when Ryan starts pounding the neck of the guitar on the pedals all lined up in front of the speakers.
"Nope. Ryan is apparently reinventing sound, but as far as I can tell he's sober as fuck. Shit, Ryan, hey! Leave that guitar alone!" Jon calls across the room, but Ryan isn't listening and Shane is crouched down next to Brendon, filming all of it. The guitar makes a crunching noise when Ryan kicks it into the wall and Spencer flinches, going to protect his drum kit. And maybe pull up Brendon's pants while he's at it.
Ryan does not, in fact, leave that guitar alone. He "burns it alive" out back half an hour later, and they all watch as the shiny red coat of paint on the body blackens and peels away, the flames licking at the neck of the guitar as it burns up slowly. Well, all of them except Jon, who didn't want to take part in the murder of an innocent instrument. It's understandable - Ryan is seriously out of his mind, and Spencer pulls him aside when they're back in the studio and Shane is messing with his camera equipment.
"Okay, so what the actual fuck?" Spencer asks, because he isn't sure how he left Ryan and Brendon on the floor acting like assholes and came back to Ryan squirting lighter fluid on his guitar. He had been gone for like three minutes to grab more beer from the fridge, but apparently they were three eventful fucking minutes.
"It's the end of the electric guitar era, Spence," Ryan says seriously.
"Yeah, that's not what I mean and you know it. Talk." Spencer crosses his arms, waiting. He knows Ryan will tell him eventually.
"We played the demos we had so far for Shane and decided to scrap the entire album," Ryan says evenly, and Spencer feels a sudden, brief swell of pride at the fact Ryan was able to push his own ego aside enough to admit that. Even if he did burn a perfectly good guitar in the process.
"Ryan--"
"I want to start over," Ryan says, looking down instead of meeting Spencer's eyes. His fingers are still smudged black from pulling the remains of the guitar out of the fire. "I want to do this right. With all of us."
Spencer wants to move forward and hug Ryan, but Ryan still looks a little jittery, like he's not sure if this is what he really wants. It's a start, though, and Spencer's thankful for that. "I was against a wolf musical from the start, anyway," Spencer says, bumping his shoulder into Ryan's and smiling at him. Then he wanders over to where Brendon's watching the Death of the Guitar playback on Shane's laptop.
Spencer can't sleep, mainly because there is either an extremely large nocturnal bird on the roof or Ryan is up there moping. Either way, whatever it is keeps moving back and forth, and Spencer rolls Brendon off of his chest with a kiss to his temple before sliding out of bed and yanking on some pants. He tiptoes past the sad, closet-sized guest room Shane is sleeping in and manages to haul himself onto the roof without interrupting Shane's snoring. He's busy mentally patting himself on the back when a strange clicking growl starts up from the darkness.
"I know it's you, Ryan. I can smell you and you've been making that same weird-ass noise since we were, like, 12."
"It was scary then and it's scary now," Ryan says, moving out of the shadows.
"Sure it was," Spencer says. "You know you're not supposed to be up here alone."
"Oh, fuck off," Ryan says. "Jon was exaggerating. I did not almost fall off, I just slipped a little. It was completely under control."
"I heard you scream from the kitchen when it happened," Spencer reminds him. "Just saying."
"It was completely under control," Ryan repeats, and he waits all of three seconds after Spencer's settled down on top of the roof to press himself into Spencer's side. "I liked that guitar," he says after a few minutes. "But it was ruining everything."
Spencer laughs, loud and sudden. "Well," he says, "the good news is, now you've destroyed it."
"Yeah. I'm probably going to regret that later."
Spencer turns to look at Ryan's face in the dark. "That is honestly something I never thought I'd hear you say."
"Whatever." Ryan shivers, and Spencer throws his arm around Ryan, pulling him in closer to his side. "It had to be done. Things are going to be better this way. I mean, it wasn't working, right?" Ryan asks quietly.
"It really, really was not," Spencer tells him gently.
"Does everyone think I'm crazy?"
"We already did," Spencer says. "How did you not know that?"
"I'm serious," Ryan says, picking his head up from Spencer's shoulder and staring at him unnervingly. "I know it wasn't perfect from the start, but it was important, because--" Ryan stops abruptly, cutting his eyes to the side.
"I get it," Spencer says quietly, looking out over the moonlit forest. "I had a minor nervous breakdown and fell in love, you had a minor nervous breakdown and wrote a wolf musical and then had another minor nervous breakdown. You just like to show me up."
"I don't know," Ryan says, relaxing under Spencer's arm and dropping his head back down to Spencer's shoulder. "You did try to kill Shane and you almost turned Brendon into a werewolf. That's way more dramatic than setting a guitar on fire."
"That's subjective," Spencer replies, smiling to himself when Ryan finally laughs.
Spencer finds Ryan outside the next day, poking at the ashes of his burned guitar with his bare toes. "Already regretting it?"
"Yep," Ryan says.
Spencer laughs and tugs at Ryan's wrist. "C'mon, Shane's leaving," he says. "We're paying him off in beer so he doesn't sell the footage of your mental breakdown to the paparazzi."
"I'd be more worried about him splicing together all your gross PDA with Brendon and selling a sex tape," Ryan grumbles, slipping Jon's flip-flops back on before they head inside.
"Oh, whatever," Spencer says. "We're not that bad."
"He has Brendon grabbing your crotch on tape, dude. I know because we all watched it and made fun of you the other night."
"Oh," Spencer says, blushing a little. "Oops?"
"Just get it out of your system before we start touring again," Ryan says. "If there's a sex scandal about this band, I want it to be about me."
"Wow," Spencer says as he holds open the door. "That's a pretty lofty goal."
"I'm not like planning it or anything," Ryan assures him, heading for the kitchen. "I'm just saying, if it happens, it's not like I'd be that embarrassed."
"Embarrassed about what?" Shane asks from the table where he's playing footage back for Jon and Brendon.
"His dick," Spencer says, flopping down in the chair next to Brendon and nuzzling into his neck.
"See?" Ryan says. "See what I'm saying about the PDA?"
"Wait," Jon says, "are we talking about Brendon and Spencer's gross PDA or Ryan's gross dick?"
"Hey," Ryan says. "My dick is not gross."
"You're right," Jon says. "It's a delicate, blooming flower."
"Yeah," Shane says, closing his laptop and pushing back his chair. "I should go start packing up. You guys talk about each other's dicks way too much."
"I know you think it's my fault," Brendon calls down the hallway after him, "but Jon is a surprisingly homoerotic presence in this band!"
Ryan pushes for picking up and leaving almost as soon as Shane's gone, but Jon convinces him to chill out for a few days and let them breathe. It also gives Jon time to plan a truly epic feast of all the meat they have left in the fridge and time to get them all thoroughly stoned, so Spencer is not complaining.
He is not complaining at all, really, because Brendon's got his head in Spencer's lap, letting Spencer pet his hair and rub at the back of his neck. Everything feels weird, like his fingertips aren't properly connected, and Spencer realizes distantly that this is the first time he's been well and truly high since he was turned. Pot and alcohol don't seem to hit him as strongly anymore, and whereas Spencer used to get pretty stoned off half a joint, it apparently now takes almost two shared with Brendon before he starts to feel it.
It's strange, though, and Spencer starts wondering if maybe his hands have always worked like this, and he just hadn't noticed. Maybe all his other enhanced senses made him totally ignore that he has, like, super touch too. Maybe Brendon's skin was always electrified and Spencer just never noticed.
"What are you thinking?" Brendon asks, and Spencer realizes that he's just staring down at Brendon, trailing his fingers up and down the side of Brendon's cheek.
"You're pretty," Spencer says, because it's the first thing that comes to mind.
"You're high," Brendon replies with a giggle.
"I miss my cats," Jon says from his recliner. "What if they don't remember me?"
"What if they formed a cat army while you were gone and they're just, like, waiting. Waiting to capture you?" Ryan asks.
"I-- why would they do that?" Jon asks, sounding genuinely stricken. "I'm nice. I get them toys."
"You can't trust cats," Ryan says. "I'm just saying, be careful."
"My cats love me," Jon says. "They love me."
"I want to sleep in my own bed," Ryan says, sitting up and then lying back down. "Like. This floor is not my bed."
"I'm kind of scared Shane is using my room at home to store cameras," Brendon says. "He has a lot of them."
"I can feel everything," Spencer says, wiggling his fingers in the air. But oh, hey, wait. Brendon's statement is just starting to cut through the fog in his brain. His bed, Brendon's bed, at Brendon's place, which is also Shane's place, but it is definitely not Spencer's place.
"I don't own your home," Spencer tells Brendon sadly. Brendon just pats at Spencer's arm, and Spencer is pretty sure Brendon's too stoned to understand how bad this is. Spencer can't be without Brendon for that long. Well, maybe he can, but he doesn't want to, dammit.
"Do you think I have enough money to buy your house?" Spencer wonders out loud. "Maybe if Shane gave me a discount."
"I... what?" Brendon asks. "You are stoned."
"You're a homeowner," Spencer says desperately.
"I think it's time to go upstairs," Brendon says, and Spencer's about to argue until he catches sight of Brendon's eyes, dark and shining, and, well. Yes please.
"Upstairs," Spencer repeats, letting Brendon tug him to his feet. "Okay."
Spencer means to find his words and have an actual talk with Brendon, he really, really does, but then Brendon has to go and walk up the stairs in front of him, and seriously, Brendon's ass. By the time Brendon opens the door to their room, Spencer's focus has mostly narrowed to getting his hands on Brendon, and he kicks the door shut behind him and half hugs, half tackles Brendon onto the bed.
"Okay," Brendon says, his legs still mostly hanging off the bed while Spencer sniffs under his ear. "Sure."
"Awesome," Spencer says, pushing his hands up under Brendon's shirt, and seriously, his hands. It's like he can feel every hair on Brendon's body brushing against his palms, can feel the blood pumping under Brendon's skin. It's kind of creepy, but mostly hot, and Spencer grabs Brendon by the waist and hauls him the rest of the way onto the bed, bending back down to trail his nose from Brendon's ear to his throat, just taking in his scent. It's different when Brendon's high, a little sweeter and a lot earthier, and it kind of drives Spencer crazy. He can't decide what to focus on: the way Brendon feels or the way he smells.
"Your skin is like one of those things," Spencer says into Brendon's throat. "One of those big balls of electricity that makes your hair stand up."
"I-- thanks?" Brendon says, tugging at Spencer's shoulder. "Spencer hey, hey, come here," he says, trying to pull Spencer up closer to his mouth. Which hey, yes, kissing, awesome, but Spencer has found this one spot right in the dip of Brendon's collarbone where he can smell everything, and feel Brendon's heart beat, and he kind of wants to just, like, live there.
"Your head is heavy like a rock," Brendon mumbles, holding Spencer's face with both hands and tilting his head so they can kiss. Spencer tries to struggle for a second, tries to get back to Brendon's neck, before he realizes, oh, hey, kissing.
Brendon's lips feel fucking amazing, and Spencer is a fan of kissing in the first place. He can't count how many times he's come just from kissing Brendon in the past two months, but this, this is, like, insane. Brendon's lips are sending little trails of electricity all through Spencer's body every time they move, and when Brendon sucks on his bottom lip a little, Spencer gasps and grinds down so hard against Brendon that Brendon whimpers a little.
"Sorry, sorry, shit," Spencer says, pulling back with a gasp. "It was like you were sucking my dick, Brendon, shit," Spencer says, leaning back in and trying to get back at Brendon's mouth.
"Hey, hey," Brendon says, pushing at his shoulder. "Come on, on your back," and yeah, that's a plan, he can do that. Spencer grabs a hold of Brendon and flips them, settling Brendon back down on top of him with a yelp. "That is even weirder when I'm really high," Brendon says before moving back down.
Spencer doesn't even give Brendon time to get there, leaning up to meet Brendon's mouth halfway, and he groans against Brendon's lips because seriously, damn. Brendon kisses him light and shallow for a few minutes, and Spencer distantly registers that Brendon's doing it on purpose, but fuck if he cares right now because it still feels amazing. He keeps rolling his hips up against Brendon's thigh, liking the way it makes his whole stomach tingle, and he's not expecting it when Brendon sucks his lip back in, hard, and scrapes his teeth over the sensitive skin.
Spencer shouts as his hips buck up, and he's pretty sure he would have knocked Brendon off of him if he hadn't had a firm grip on Brendon's waist. Brendon keeps sucking and then bites down, and Spencer comes with a groan, hot and sudden against Brendon's thigh.
"Fuck," Brendon says, pulling back and licking his lips. "That's still so fucking hot." Spencer nods kind of dazedly and reaches up, running his thumb along Brendon's swollen bottom lip. Brendon shivers a little and pushes forward with his hips as he sucks Spencer's thumb in, and Spencer is so close to coming again that he's a little dizzy with it.
Brendon leans down and sucks at Spencer's fingers until Spencer raises them up and pushes them past Brendon's lips. Spencer's cock jerks at the look in Brendon's eyes, dark and heated, and Spencer growls low in his throat as Brendon sucks his fingers and licks over them, getting them wet. Spencer can smell how turned on Brendon's getting, his scent hotter and stronger all of a sudden as Brendon closes his eyes and groans a little around Spencer's fingers.
"Sex," Spencer gasps out when Brendon nips at the pad of his pointer finger. "Sex now."
Brendon laughs around his fingers, which is fucking weird but also weirdly hot, the way his mouth stretches even further around Spencer's fingers and his laughter vibrates against them. Brendon grabs Spencer's wrist and pushes, letting go of his fingers with a wet pop that goes straight to Spencer's dick. "You Spencer, you do sex now?" Brendon says in an exaggerated caveman voice.
"Yes," Spencer says, not even caring that Brendon's making fun of him. "Yes, let's do sex now, fuck," Spencer whines, and Brendon laughs, loud and bright. Spencer pulls at the hem of Brendon's shirt, and Brendon swats at his hand, pulling back.
"No," he says firmly. "I like this shirt and you are not ripping it."
"That was an accident," Spencer says, wiggling around until he can yank his own shirt off.
"All five times?" Brendon asks, his head still trapped in his shirt. "Because the first time it was kind of cute, but now I'm down to like four shirts." Brendon's hair is everywhere as he yanks his shirt over his head, and Spencer leans forward and grabs at it, pulling Brendon's head back down to kiss him again. "Hey," Brendon says against his lips after a minute or two when Spencer starts rubbing himself against Brendon's hip. "Pants are kind of in the way when it comes to sex."
"Pants suck," Spencer says, fumbling with Brendon's fly. "I agree. Let's never wear them again."
Brendon laughs and pulls back, shifting off of Spencer's lap so he can pull his pants down his legs. "Come on," he says, rolling his eyes at Spencer.
"Oh, right," Spencer says, pushing his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. He had maybe gotten a little distracted watching Brendon take his pants off. It's not his fault. He's still pretty high. And hard, which he's reminded of when Brendon shifts back on top of Spencer and rubs his thigh between Spencer's legs. Spencer can feel where his skin is still sticky with come, and he reaches down, gripping Brendon's hips to keep him still when Spencer leans up and sniffs at his neck.
"What's so awesome about my neck? Are you sure you're not a vampire?" Brendon asks quietly, his breath hitching when Spencer kisses right underneath Brendon's ear.
"Mine," Spencer says in a low voice, thrusting up a little so his cock slides against Brendon's ass.
"Yours," Brendon says, shifting his hips down against Spencer's. "Spence, come on, come on." Brendon's voice is strained and his face is flushed and Spencer can smell his desperation, smell how badly he wants this.
"Stay," Spencer says, pressing one last deep kiss to Brendon's lips before sliding out from under Brendon and shuffling on his knees to the end of the bed.
Spencer had every intention of jerking off so he could get Brendon wet, but when he sees Brendon spread out in front of him, his back arched and his ass in the air, Spencer can't help it when he leans down and holds Brendon open, licking over him. Brendon gasps and bucks forward, and Spencer grips tightly at Brendon's ass, squeezing until he stills. He wasn't planning on doing more than licking over Brendon a few times, listening to the little whining gasps Brendon always makes, but it feels so different this time. Spencer gets distracted with it, running the very tip of his tongue along Brendon's rim for a while and feeling Brendon shiver. The tip of his tongue feels hot and oversensitive where he licks at Brendon, and he switches to broad strokes of his tongue, his own hips jerking forward this time at the feel of his tongue dragging over Brendon. It's like it shoots straight to his cock and wow, wow, they are definitely going to be having sex every time they get stoned out of their minds from now on.
Brendon starts to wiggle, to push back against Spencer's tongue. "Spencer, Spencer," he gasps, "come on, please fuck me already, christ."
It's tempting to keep on going, keep shifting his hips with the drag of his tongue, but fucking Brendon sounds like a really good idea right now, so Spencer makes himself pull back from Brendon and sit back up on his knees. Spencer shifts forward and takes hold of his cock, rubbing the head over Brendon's hole where he's still wet from Spencer's mouth. Brendon tries to push back and Spencer grabs onto Brendon's hip with his free hand, keeping him still.
"Spence, what?" Brendon asks, raising his head up and looking over his shoulder at Spencer with wide, desperate eyes.
"Almost," Spencer says as he starts to move his hand in earnest, holding the head of his cock to Brendon's hole as he jerks himself off fast and rough. It really doesn't take much; all Spencer has to do is breathe in deep and get Brendon's scent, focus and listen to his heartbeat, the tiny pants he's letting out, and Spencer's coming. Brendon lets out a strangled whimper as Spencer's come drips down his ass, and Spencer slides his fingers down, running them over Brendon's balls to catch the come there before sliding them inside of Brendon. Brendon groans and clenches down around Spencer almost immediately, trying to draw his fingers in deeper.
Spencer lets Brendon squeeze around him for a few moments as he rubs, pressing his come deeper inside of Brendon, getting him wet. Spencer pulls his fingers out slowly, pushing more come in when he thrusts them back inside. Brendon's thighs are shaking, and Spencer can smell him everywhere - the pre-come dripping from his cock, the sweat springing up on his forehead, the constant, thick smell of his arousal. Spencer takes his fingers back out, sliding them over his cock and getting himself slick before pressing the head of his cock back to Brendon's hole. He goes slow, just pushing the head in at first, watching the way Brendon spreads around him, how the head of his cock stretches Brendon open when he pulls back out. Spencer groans when he sees his own come clinging to the head of his cock and shining wetly around Brendon's rim, and he presses back against Brendon's hole, watching the way Brendon tries to push back, the way he clenches from wanting Spencer inside.
Spencer shakes his head a little, trying to snap himself out of it, but he can't quite pull his eyes away as he pushes back in, deeper this time, just watching his cock slide in and out of Brendon. Brendon keeps squirming impatiently, but Spencer can't help it, he's facinated by the way Brendon clings to his cock. Spencer reaches down to touch, his fingers sliding wetly over Brendon's rim, and Brendon groans. "Spencer," he says. "Come on."
Spencer's going to stop teasing and actually fuck Brendon, he absolutely is, just as soon as it stops feeling so good to press his fingers down and feel his cock moving in and out of Brendon through the stretched skin. He keeps rubbing, his thrusts getting faster the better it feels, and before he even realizes what he's doing, Spencer is pressing his finger in alongside his cock, groaning at how it feels. "Fuck," Brendon gasps, his hips jerking forward. "Spencer, fuck."
"Hurts?" Spencer asks, forcing himself to still his hips. Brendon is so tight around him, tight and slick from Spencer's come.
"No, just--" Brendon groans, clenching down around Spencer's cock, around his finger, and then he's pushing back, hard, until his ass is pressed in close against Spencer's hips. Spencer slides his finger out slowly, letting it drag inside Brendon, and Brendon hisses, says, "Wait, no, I want-- Spencer, please."
Spencer brings his two fingers up to his mouth and sucks them in quickly, tasting Brendon and his come. He makes sure his fingers are wet before pressing them back in, alongside his cock, and Brendon cries out, squeezing down so hard it's almost painful.
"Brendon," Spencer grits out, his voice gone low and rough. "You're so tight, taking so much." Spencer stares as he starts to work his fingers in and out with his cock, listening to Brendon's hitched breaths and trying not to come again.
"Trust me," Brendon groans, "I know, fuck." Brendon drops his head, pushing back as much as he can and just clenching down around Spencer, tight and hot and incredible. Spencer groans at the feeling and squeezes at Brendon's hip with his free hand, but he lets him keep rocking back, watches as Brendon speeds up and loses his rhythm, already so close just from rocking back against Spencer's cock and the stretch of his fingers. Brendon presses back even closer, still clenching around Spencer, trying to pull him deeper when there's no deeper to go. Brendon makes a frustrated noise as he keeps rocking back and hooks his ankles around Spencer's thighs, still trying to pull him closer.
Spencer slides his fingers out of Brendon's body and grabs onto Brendon's waist as he gasps at the loss. Spencer leans in close, pushing them to the bed and trying to press closer, even just a little. He leans down, pressing himself along Brendon's back, and Brendon cries out sharply as the angle changes and he goes impossibly tighter around Spencer's cock as he comes, before Spencer can even get a hand around him. Spencer stays deep inside, holding Brendon's hips as he comes, listening to the broken noises that tear themselves out of Brendon's throat. Brendon keeps pressing back, rocking through his orgasm. As soon as he stops clenching around Spencer, he falls to his elbows on the bed, and Spencer pulls out and presses the head of his cock where Brendon's swollen and open. Spencer comes wet over Brendon's hole and watches intently as most of it goes inside, a little catching at Brendon's rim and sliding down.
Brendon whimpers and collapses forward on the bed, and Spencer slides down Brendon's body, holding him open and licking fast, tasting himself still warm inside of Brendon. Spencer's tongue slides in easily and Brendon shivers as Spencer licks inside before pulling back to lick carefully over Brendon's rim, where he's still open and a little swollen up.
Spencer gets distracted for a minute, licking slowly over Brendon's rim and watching the way Brendon clenches, but then Brendon's babbling Spencer's name and shifting his hips forward, shifting away. Spencer licks a wet stripe down the back of Brendon's balls, reaching beneath Brendon to pull his cock back so he can sink his mouth over the tip, still wet with Brendon's come. Brendon shivers, and Spencer can tell he's overwhelmed, even more sensitive than usual after coming untouched.
Spencer opens his mouth wider and lifts up on Brendon's hips, holding Brendon up so he can suck the head in gently, cleaning Brendon up, listening to Brendon's quiet whimpers and feeling his toes curl up hard in the sheets. Brendon holds out for longer than Spencer thought he could, makes it until his cock is soft and twitching in Spencer's mouth before Brendon's body finally gives despite Spencer's support and he falls down onto the sheets.
Spencer presses a kiss to the small of Brendon's back before moving up the bed to settle in next to Brendon. Brendon turns over gingerly to give Spencer room, groaning as he does. Spencer strokes his hand up and down Brendon's back, grinning widely as he pulls Brendon close. He can't tell if he's still high or just really, really stupid from his orgasm, but he's pretty sure it's a combination of both.
"Oh my god," Brendon pants out, his voice hoarse. "You broke my ass. I have to sit in a car for hours tomorrow, why did I let this happen?" Brendon groans, dropping his head to Spencer's shoulder.
Spencer's chest clenches up as it all comes flooding back to him, that this is their last night here, that they're leaving tomorrow, leaving to go to separate houses. Spencer should just say something, he knows he should, but instead he catches Brendon's hand, kissing at Brendon's wrist and letting his lips linger, feeling Brendon's pulse beat against his skin. "Love you," Spencer whispers, dropping Brendon's hand and scooting down until he's face to face with Brendon. "Love you," Spencer says again, fiercely, pressing kisses to Brendon's sweaty forehead, his eyelids, the corner of his jaw.
"Hey, shh," Brendon says, squirming closer gingerly and pulling Spencer in, tilting his head back so Spencer can bury his face in the crook of Brendon's neck. "I love you too," Brendon says, petting at Spencer's hair, dragging his fingers over the spot just behind Spencer's ear that always seems to calm him down. "I'm going to love you even more when you carry me to the shower and hold me up," Brendon says, poking at Spencer's shin with his toes. "Because I don't know if my legs work, but there is no way I'm sitting on a sore ass for four hours in a car with Ryan tomorrow, still smelling like come."
Spencer squeezes Brendon tighter for just a second, breathing in deep, before pulling back and forcing a smile. "Just this once," he says, hoping he can blame the slight shake in his voice on the really awesome sex. "I don't want you getting lazy."
"Onward, noble steed," Brendon says sleepily, holding his arms out for Spencer.
Spencer wakes up to Brendon shoving t-shirts into his suitcase. "We need to leave soon," Brendon says as he tosses the clothing of Spencer's he finds onto the foot of Spencer's bed. "You know how Ryan drives."
Spencer nods, watching the way Brendon moves a little stiffly, and winces when he bends over to grab clothes off the floor. He can't make himself move. He's just frozen, watching Brendon pack and feeling a little sick. He needs to-- they're-- Brendon's his mate, and Spencer had become so secure in that knowledge that he'd never thought to wonder what would happen when they left the cabin. He and Brendon don't share a room outside of the cabin. In fact, they live a good 20 or 30 minutes away from each other, and Spencer's stomach clenches and rolls sickly when he thinks about waking up every morning without even being able to smell Brendon, much less pull him close and nuzzle into his neck.
Spencer opens his mouth, trying to say something that doesn't sound completely insane, but Brendon just tosses a pair of his boxers at him and drops a kiss on Spencer's forehead. "I'm going downstairs before Ryan eats the last of the Pop-Tarts," he says. "If you shove the rest of this shit into our suitcases, I might even save you one."
Spencer nods blankly, still frozen on the bed for a few minutes after Brendon leaves. He should have realized. Brendon has his own place, his own life, and he didn't ask for any of this, but that doesn't mean Spencer had actually used his damn brain to realize any of this beforehand, and it's kind of a shock. He feels numb, even after he makes himself get off the bed and carefully separate the last of the dirty clothes on the floor.
He feels like crying as he shoves his own clothes into his suitcase and carefully folds Brendon's, stacking them inside the open suitcase on Brendon's bed. Brendon's unused bed, for weeks now, because why did he need it when he had Spencer's bed? Spencer sits down between their suitcases, staring across at their-- at his bed, unmade and messy and smelling like Brendon, smelling like them. Spencer gets up stiffly and walks over to his bed, carefully stripping the pillowcase from Brendon's pillow and folding it neatly. He very determinedly does not think about what a pathetic creeper he's being as he slides it into the front pocket of his suitcase, but he can't-- he needs something.
Spencer takes a deep breath when he hears Ryan start arguing about first come, first served, and steels himself as he heads downstairs and into the kitchen with his eyes downcast. He takes his seat beside Brendon wordlessly and eats half of the Pop-Tart Brendon holds out in one bite. Spencer's so wrapped up in his thoughts he doesn't realize Brendon's saying something until Brendon snaps his fingers in front of Spencer's face, sharp and sudden. "Spence. Are you listening at all? I want to stop by Shane's on the way home and drop my guitar off, but I'm going to do laundry at your place, is that cool? I'll do yours too if you're nice to me."
"I think I want to steal the curtains from my room," Ryan says, talking over Brendon.
"No one stole anything," Spencer says quickly, panicked, before he processes exactly what Ryan had said. Then he processes what Brendon had said, and whips his head up. "Wait, what?" Spencer says.
"I like the aesthetic," Ryan continues as he tries to slide Brendon's Pop-Tart off his plate.
"Not the curtains, those curtains are god awful ugly, and I'm pretty sure someone would notice if they were gone, now shut up," Spencer says, turning back to Brendon. "I-- what?" Spencer asks dazedly. "You're coming home with me?"
"Do you really want to go to my place?" Brendon asks, sliding his plate away from Ryan's grabbing hands. "Regan's usually there and the walls are really thin. Trust me."
"And you're loud, Spencer," Ryan says, making an abortive grab for Brendon's Pop-Tart again. "But really, those curtains aren't ugly, they're distinctive."
"Like, really loud," Jon adds without looking up from his cup of coffee. "And Ryan, those curtains are distinctively ugly."
"Hey," Spencer says, vaguely offended but mostly incredibly fucking relieved.
"Right?" Ryan says.
"Not the curtains, idiot," Spencer says, rolling his eyes at Ryan.
"Spencer, I love you," Brendon says, still blatantly ignoring Ryan, "but you really are fucking loud."
Brendon shoves the last of his Pop-Tart in his mouth and turns around to chew it obnoxiously in Ryan's face. Spencer smiles softly to himself as Brendon's bare foot tangles with his under the table, toes rubbing at his ankles. Besides, they're right. He is pretty loud. It's the reason Spencer had the foresight to buy a place without any immediate neighbors.
"Jesus," Brendon says, panting a little when he finishes pushing Spencer's drum case to the back of the Uhaul. "That shit was heavy."
"That's why I told you to let me do it," Spencer says, rolling his eyes and catching Brendon around the waist when he trips over a strap.
"I'm kind of going to miss this place," Brendon says, not bothering to move from Spencer's arms, just twisting around a little until he's more comfortable.
"The Uhaul?" Spencer says, even though he knows exactly what Brendon means. "Because we haven't exactly made any memories here, but there's still time," Spencer says, waggling his eyebrows at Brendon.
"Can you imagine Ryan's face if we got come on his guitar case?" Brendon says with a snort.
"Me too, though," Spencer says after a minute, leaning down to kiss the side of Brendon's cheek. "I'm going to miss it here, I mean. Not the Uhaul. The cabin."
"Yeah, I got you about three clarifications ago," Brendon says, leaning up and kissing Spencer softly.
"It's just going to be weird. Going back to, like, civilization. And touring. And being a band. And oh god, the bus. The bunks," Spencer says in dismay.
"Hey," Brendon says quietly, rubbing his thumbs against Spencer's waist. "First of all, I'm bendy. You'd be surprised. Also, I bet we could get Ryan to bankroll a second bus out of pocket by threatening to have sex all over the place."
"No," Ryan says, peering around the corner of the Uhaul. "No you could not, and if you two are done having a moment, Jon's standing here with an amp and it looks really heavy."
"By all means," Brendon says, pressing himself closer to Spencer with a grin so Jon can haul the amp up.
"We have too much shit," Ryan says as he watches Spencer and Jon haul the last of the amps to the back.
"I am not the one who brought my own duvet," Brendon reminds Ryan.
"That duvet is fluffy," Ryan says. "It's easily packed into small places."
"It doesn't change the fact that you brought a duvet."
"The more you say that," Jon says, grunting as he pushes a trunk out of the way, "the less sounds it like a real word."
"It's like paste," Ryan says. "Paste is the same way."
Brendon snickers as he tries to lift one of the bigger keyboards and re-position it, but Spencer grabs it from him before Brendon can get very far, pushing it in to the side so it won't move around. Brendon gives Spencer a look, but Spencer ignores him. Whatever, what's the point of having werewolf strength if he never uses it?
"You know, I'm not sure if I trust Ryan to drive after all. Jon, you should drive," Spencer says after a minute of Ryan repeating the word "paste" to himself over and over again.
Jon holds up his hands. "No way, man. I called shotgun."
"Wait, what?" Ryan says, standing up straight and pushing his giant sunglasses up to the top of his head. "No. No way, they are not sitting together. They cannot have sex in the car while I'm driving."
"So it's okay while I'm driving?" Jon asks, mock offended, but Spencer can hear the smile in his voice.
"No! It's never okay! You seriously cannot have sex in the car," Ryan says, turning to glare at Brendon accusingly.
"We don't need to, Ross, we already did it in your bed," Brendon says, fist-bumping Jon before heading back inside to grab the last of the equipment.
"... He's kidding, right?" Ryan asks as soon as Brendon's inside. "Spencer. Spencer, you wouldn't do that to me, right?"