Need You Wild 11/12
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Spencer wakes up insanely close to coming with Brendon straddling his thigh, rocking back and forth as he noses behind Spencer's ear. "Well," Spencer says breathlessly once he's sure he's not dreaming. "Good morning."
"Mmm-hmm," Brendon says, sucking at his jaw. "Fuck me."
Heat rushes into Spencer's stomach, just like that, but he presses his hands firmly to Brendon's lower back, trying to stop Brendon from squirming so much. Things are different this time, they are, even if Spencer's body isn't paying attention to the guilt he still feels for biting Brendon. "Are you sure you don't want to brush your teeth?"
Brendon groans, his mouth open to kiss and suck over Spencer's neck. Spencer doesn't have to ask to figure out that Brendon has heightened smell and taste like last time. "No. I want you to fuck me."
"But what about--"
"For fuck's sake, Spencer. It's a good thing I already fingered myself," Brendon mumbles. Before Spencer can ask - or squeeze the base of his cock before he comes in his boxers, because seriously - Brendon is pulling Spencer's cock out and lining him up, sinking down slowly.
"What-- I-- Brendon," Spencer groans, his hands going straight for Brendon's hips, holding tight as Brendon kneels over Spencer and starts to rock his hips down.
"You sleep too long," Brendon says, and he grabs at Spencer's shoulders and pushes his ass back on Spencer's cock, hard, going tight around Spencer when he does. Brendon plays dirty.
"Holy shit," Spencer whines. Brendon smells so good, feels so good riding Spencer, and he's close again, struggling to hold back. "Shit, Brendon, I'm going to--"
"Then stop talking and come," Brendon moans, and Spencer can't really argue with that. He tilts his head back and lets go, coming as Brendon's still rocking down on his cock, and Spencer doesn't stop himself from reaching back to touch where his cock disappears into Brendon. Spencer's still twitching, his whole body buzzing from his orgasm, and they're both wet with his come as it slides down his cock.
"Okay, wait," Spencer says, voice rough, and he has to reach up to grab at Brendon's hips again because Brendon won't stop moving and Spencer is still hard inside him, but that's not the point. Now that Spencer's fully awake, all the guilt and worry over tomorrow comes flooding back to his mind. "Are you sure-- shouldn't we wait and see how you feel?"
"Spencer," Brendon groans, trying to grind his hips down even with Spencer holding him in place. "I feel horny and I want to have sex. Stop beating yourself up and fuck me already, god."
Spencer feels like making Brendon wait would be the right thing to do, but really, he's only so strong and Brendon is playing really dirty. Spencer makes a frustrated noise and sits up suddenly, his hands sliding down to grab at Brendon's ass when he does. Brendon whines when Spencer's cock sinks in deeper, and he loops his arms around Spencer's neck so he stays upright in Spencer's lap, bracing his feet on the bed behind Spencer and pushing back on his cock.
"Yes, yes, this is good," Brendon moans. He tilts his head back as he works himself on Spencer's cock, and Spencer feels a surge of possession, his wolf brain taking it as submission. Spencer darts forward to suck at the front of Brendon's throat, trailing kisses hard enough to bruise down to his collarbone. Brendon's skin is already a little slick with sweat, his scent growing stronger and stronger as he gets closer to coming.
"Just good?" Spencer asks, using his hands on Brendon's ass to spread him open, jerking his hips up to fuck into him. Brendon shudders, clenching down tightly around Spencer and tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of Spencer's head, tugging.
"Great. This is great, please touch my dick," Brendon whines, leaning forward to kiss Spencer hard on the mouth. Spencer kisses back, lips moving together wetly, and he lets go of Brendon's ass with one hand to reach between them, jerking Brendon off roughly.
Brendon's breath hitches right next to Spencer's ear and he comes between their bodies, hot and wet over their stomachs. Spencer fucks him through it, starting to feel the burn in his thighs from thrusting up into Brendon, but not caring enough to want to stop. Brendon's still hard in Spencer's hand as he kisses Spencer blindly again, tongues and teeth clashing, and it's awesome.
"More," Brendon says, already starting to push his ass back down on Spencer's cock again. "More, more."
Spencer laughs, kissing right underneath Brendon's ear and feeling him shiver. "Whatever you say, greedy. Lie back."
Brendon makes a happy noise and falls back down onto the bed, his legs still spread over Spencer's thighs and Spencer's cock pressed deep inside. Spencer's thighs are still burning with the strain of their earlier position, and he ends up falling down with his legs spread out beneath Brendon's, out on either side of them, instead of on his knees like he had originally intended. "Oh shit," he says, "Sorry, I--"
Brendon cuts him off with a groan, throwing his head back. "Oh my god," he gasps. "Oh my god, stay right there." His chest is flushed dark pink and Spencer feels that rush of heat again, grabbing Brendon's hips and pulling him forward onto Spencer's cock. "Yes, yeah, come on," Brendon groans, trying to press closer even though Spencer's got him firm by the hips, pulled in as close to his body as he can manage. Spencer's tempted to stay like this, pressed as close as he can while he grinds into Brendon's body, but Brendon's thighs are shaking, his entire body straining up under Spencer's hands, trying to get more. Spencer knows what it feels like, knows exactly what it feels like, and he lifts Brendon's hips up to just the right angle and thrusts in hard, letting Brendon arch forward onto his cock. It's really not going to take much for Spencer to come again, and he can smell how close Brendon is, but he wants to draw it out. He doesn't particularly feel like being anywhere else right now.
So of course that's when his stomach growls loudly. Brendon starts laughing, loud and breathless, and Spencer groans when it makes Brendon clench down around his cock in new and entirely interesting ways. "We could always multitask," Brendon gasps out. "Don't even lie and tell me eating bacon off my chest while you fuck me is not something you'd be into."
"Oh my god," Spencer groans, "I should pull out right now and leave you like this."
"I notice that's not a no."
"No," Spencer growls, snapping his hips forward. "Now shut up and come."
"Such a sweet talker," Brendon says, his voice breaking on the end when Spencer shifts his hips and gets just a little bit deeper. "But yeah, okay."
Spencer grins and reaches for Brendon's cock, and it really does not take long before Brendon's body is going tight and he's coming, wet over Spencer's hand, his head tilted to the side and mouth open. It's so hot, the way Brendon looks spread out in front of Spencer like this, the way his stomach muscles twitch and jump. Spencer tries to lean down to sink his mouth around Brendon's cock, but the position makes it impossible and he has to settle for sucking his fingers into his mouth, tasting Brendon shamelessly while Brendon stares up at him, flushed, his eyes wide and dark. Spencer groans and comes like that, his hips jerking forward into Brendon without any rhythm.
"Bring me food," Brendon gasps out after a minute, panting and squeezing around Spencer's cock. "I need sustenance."
"You bring me food," Spencer groans, pulling out and falling flat onto his back. Brendon pokes at Spencer's waist with his toes, digging them into Spencer's ribs until Spencer squawks and smacks at Brendon's foot. "Stop that."
"Fooood," Brendon groans, hauling himself up to rest against the pillows. "Spencer," he says, dropping his voice and running his toes up the inside of Spencer's thigh. "Spencer, don't you want to bring me food?"
"I can't believe you are doing this right now," Spencer says, lifting up on his elbows to stare at Brendon.
"This is all new to me!" Brendon says. "You go make us bacon and I'll stay here and jerk off."
"How is that an incentive for me to leave? You're going to wear yourself out."
"When have you ever worn yourself out?" Brendon asks, letting his fingers stray down to his cock.
"It's happened," Spencer says, forcing himself to sit up on the bed and rummage around the floor for pants. "Once or twice."
"Food," Brendon says, darting forward and kissing at the back of Spencer's neck. "If you're quick, I might even hold off on coming until you're back."
"Gee," Spencer says. "Thanks."
"No bacon," Spencer says sadly when he walks back in the room. "But I just grabbed a pack of ham and-- oh god dammit."
"You can feed me ham while I jerk off?" Brendon suggests, his hand still moving leisurely over his cock.
"I'm never letting you forget that you said that." Spencer sets their food on the side table and swats Brendon's hand away from his dick when Brendon reaches for him. "Please at least use a fork," Spencer says, sitting on the bed with his plate, and Brendon makes a face.
"It's not like you're squeamish when you--"
"Humor me," Spencer mumbles, and he's thankful when Brendon sits up on the bed next to him, eating without trying to initiate sex. Or at least not until he takes the last bite of toast. Spencer's drinking from his glass of milk and Brendon's still chewing as he crawls forward, nuzzling at Spencer's shoulder.
"Oh my god," Spencer says after he swallows, setting his glass down. "Calm the fuck down."
"It's not like you're entirely rational and controlled," Brendon says. "It's all itchy."
"'Cause of the moon," Spencer says around his last bite of egg, trying very hard not to show how much Brendon feeling the itchiness concerns him. "And for the record, I have never once tried to fuck you while still chewing," Spencer says, letting Brendon set his plate and glass down onto the floor.
"Look," Brendon says, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out. "All done."
"I seriously almost don't even want to fuck you right now," Spencer says, but he's lying and Brendon totally knows it. Spencer's hard-on is kind of a dead giveaway, even through his sweatpants.
"Okay," Brendon says in a low voice, sliding his hand down past the waistband of Spencer's pants. "If you're sure, then. I guess I'll just go jerk off some more. By myself."
"Oh, fuck you," Spencer mumbles, pulling his shirt off quickly and ignoring Brendon's wide grin as he helps Spencer out of his pants.
"Now as I was saying," Brendon continues, reaching for his own cock, "I'll just-- oof."
Spencer flips Brendon over onto his stomach, sliding back in all at once and pressing him down into the mattress. "You were saying?"
"I was saying this is good," Brendon gasps, bucking under Spencer's weight. "Great idea, is what I was saying."
"Mmhmm," Spencer hums, letting Brendon relax around his cock before starting to thrust in slowly, his hips pressing against Brendon's ass when he's in deep. Brendon just shudders and arches his back, trying to push his ass up so Spencer will sink in deeper. Now that the edge is off, Spencer doesn't feel rushed to come or to make Brendon come. He just presses his nose down into the crook of Brendon's neck and breathes in, letting Brendon fill his senses, his scent and the heat of his skin. He likes the way Brendon squirms underneath him, open and warm and whining while Spencer just grinds his cock in.
"You're doing this on purpose," Brendon says softly, his voice rough already, and Spencer kisses at the side of Brendon's neck, sucking lightly at the skin when it makes Brendon clench down around Spencer's cock.
"You complaining?" he asks.
"Not really," Brendon says, tilting his head to the side so Spencer can get at his neck. "Just an observation."
Spencer doesn't answer, just rubs his nose along Brendon's hairline as he presses in deep, sliding his hands up Brendon's arms and folding his fingers in with Brendon's, holding on as he pushes Brendon down into the bed.
"Jesus," Brendon says, shivering a little beneath Spencer, and seriously. Spencer loves Brendon and he loves sex with Brendon, but nothing is ever as good as this, pressed all along Brendon's body with his cock buried deep while Brendon is all he can smell. Spencer's well aware that this is what got him in trouble the last time, and he's already having to clamp down on his urge to bite down, to hold Brendon in place even though he's not going anywhere. It's always like this, but it's so much worse before the moon. Spencer just needs to take, needs to make sure Brendon knows that he's Spencer's. He settles for licking over Brendon's neck instead, his mouth focusing over the place he bit Brendon, where the skin is still bruised. Brendon hisses and arches up, a fresh wave of arousal washing over him, and Spencer groans into his skin.
"Spencer," Brendon says helplessly, his fingers squeezing down around Spencer's where their hands are still intertwined. "I-- I don't even," he babbles, straining his neck back to give Spencer more access. "Come on, just keep--" Brendon trails off, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching down around Spencer as he comes, his cock trapped between his belly and the mattress. Spencer growls low in his throat at the smell, and Brendon shudders when Spencer sucks even harder at the mark, pressing Brendon's hips down into the bed as he pushes in as deep as he can and comes, wet and hot inside of Brendon.
"More," Brendon says, his voice rough and demanding. "Come on."
"No, like this," Spencer says, finally releasing Brendon's neck and dropping his head to Brendon's shoulder, twisting his neck awkwardly for a kiss. Brendon can mostly just reach the corner of Spencer's mouth, but Spencer moans into it anyway, rolling his hips slowly and thrusting deep into Brendon. He can't help it, he wants to stay close right now, as close as he can. He wants Brendon like this always, warm and sweaty and his, and Spencer doesn't realize just how hard he's snapping his hips into Brendon until Brendon whines, high in his throat.
"Please, Spencer," Brendon gasps. "I need to-- come on, up, up."
Spencer growls again, pressing his hips down harder, but Brendon bucks up beneath him and Spencer pulls back with a groan, letting Brendon rise up to his knees. Brendon drops down to all fours, reaching behind himself to yank at Spencer's hip. "C'mon," he says, his hand letting go of Spencer's hip and going straight for his cock. Spencer rolls his eyes, but it's not like Brendon on his hands and knees is a bad thing. Spencer groans as he presses back in, the slide slick and hot from his come. Brendon presses back against him immediately, rocking his hips in time with the rhythm of his hand, and Spencer lets him, rubbing his hands up and down the slick skin of Brendon's back and watching as his cock slides in and out of Brendon wetly. He can't resist sliding his hands down to Brendon's ass, holding him open while he thrusts in harder, and Brendon's smell grows thicker, his head ducking down when he whines.
Brendon comes again a few seconds later, and Spencer feels dizzy as he watches Brendon clench down around his cock, his hips stuttering back while he jerks himself through it. Spencer leans down and presses himself all along Brendon's back, smiling a little into Brendon's skin when Brendon doesn't let go of his cock. "This is so insane," he pants out. "I keep coming and coming but I still want--"
"Yeah," Spencer says, licking at the sweat at Brendon's hairline. "I know the feeling." Spencer can't quite get close enough like this. It's like he can't feel enough of Brendon's skin, so he keeps his arms tight around Brendon's chest, pressing close behind his body as he pulls them both up on their knees.
"Oh god," Brendon moans. "Spencer, shit." Spencer's cock slips out but he quickly presses back inside, angling his hips up to thrust deep into Brendon. It's more awkward like this, but Spencer doesn't want to pull away from Brendon's back or take his face away from Brendon's neck, where he smells so good, his skin flushed and sweating.
"Closer," Spencer mumbles, "I like it when we're close," and Brendon just nods, one hand reaching back down for his cock and the other coming up to tangle in Spencer's hair.
"Yours," Brendon says softly, so quietly Spencer almost can't hear him over their heartbeats. "No matter what." Just like that, though, Spencer's stilling his hips and coming inside Brendon, mouthing desperately at Brendon's shoulder.
Brendon lets out a cry that's almost pained, and Spencer pulls back reluctantly. "No," Brendon says, his hand tightening in Spencer's hair. "No, it's okay, it's just--"
"A lot, I know," Spencer says, pulling Brendon down onto the bed. "It's okay, we can take a break," he says breathlessly, pushing at Brendon's shoulder until Brendon gets the hint and turns over, resting his head on Spencer's chest.
"But I'm still hard," Brendon says, and Spencer snorts out a loud laugh before he can help himself.
"God, you're going to be insufferable if you become an actual werewolf," Spencer says, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth.
"We'll never get any work done again," Brendon says, hitching his leg up to tangle with Spencer's. "We'll be on VH1 in 20 years, Promising Emo Heartthrobs Derailed by Insatiable Sexual Appetites."
"That sounds more like The Enquirer," Spencer says, letting his hand stray down to Brendon's ass, his fingers petting over Brendon where he's wet and still open.
"That's not exactly encouraging me to take a break," Brendon says, but his heart is beating slower, more even now, and he sounds a little tired.
"Let's nap," Spencer says, wrapping his free arm around Brendon's waist. "You won't sleep long like this, I promise. I'll get us some food when you wake up, and then we can have some more sex."
"A lot more sex," Brendon mumbles into Spencer's chest.
"A lot," Spencer agrees, burying his nose into Brendon's hair.
"No, seriously," Spencer gasps. "We have to stop."
"We can go again," Brendon whines into his throat. Brendon's curled up on Spencer's chest, his legs tucked in on either side of Spencer, and his ass pressing back just far enough to keep Spencer's cock inside. The last thing Spencer wants to do is stop, but his actual dick is tired. Brendon's been even worse than last time, and Spencer's kind of terrified of what that means, but he can't help it. Everything in him is telling him to keep going, to get Brendon closer, but Spencer just can't. Brendon's mostly gone soft, and Spencer's pretty sure he would be too if Brendon weren't clenching around him so hard.
"Brendon," Spencer says. "It's bedtime."
"A good night fuck, then," Brendon says sleepily.
"You are fucking ridiculous," Spencer says, brushing Brendon's sweaty hair back and kissing his forehead. Brendon finally relaxes a little, thankfully easing up on Spencer's cock, and Spencer slides out with a wet noise that's hot even though it shouldn't be. "We should shower," he says, hoping Brendon will say no.
"No," Brendon says, and, well, that was easy. "I'm not moving. You're not moving. We're staying right here." Brendon pushes his ass back once more, dragging over Spencer's cock, but when he grins at Spencer's groan, Spencer's pretty sure it's just because Brendon is an asshole. He stretches his legs out and shifts until he's lying half on top of Spencer, his cheek resting on Spencer's chest, and Spencer slides an arm around Brendon's back, cupping his hip. It takes a little more shifting until they're both comfortable, or as comfortable as they can be when they're both covered in sweat and drying come. Spencer doesn't mind so much, though, as he noses at the top of Brendon's head, and when Brendon snuggles in closer, Spencer assumes Brendon's doesn't mind that much either.
"'Night. Love you," Brendon mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to Spencer's collarbone, and Spencer's chest tightens.
"Love you too," Spencer says. He's warm and exhausted and has Brendon close and safe in his arms, but Spencer still can't quite fall asleep. All he can think about is the moon tomorrow. He hopes Brendon doesn't notice the way his heart speeds up just from thinking about it, thinking about Brendon going through the same painful, disorienting change that Spencer has to go through. Brendon's his mate, and Spencer's supposed to protect him, not possibly change his entire life because he couldn't control himself during sex.
Spencer closes his eyes and listens to Brendon breathe, trying to keep his mind blank, but he keeps coming back to Brendon, huddled on the floor and crying out as his bones crack and reform, his face twisted up in pain. Spencer pulls Brendon closer, and Brendon makes a tiny noise in his sleep, snuggling closer. Spencer's chest is tight and his throat aches, and he squeezes his eyes shut until they stop burning. There's no use in crying until he knows for sure if he's ruined Brendon's life or not. Spencer tips his head to the side to stare out the window, the moon heavy and round in the sky, making his skin tight and itchy with anticipation. He doesn't get to sleep any time soon, the moon and heavy weight of his guilt keeping him up, but exhaustion eventually takes over right before sunrise, and Spencer finally drifts off to sleep.
Brendon's still mostly curled up on his chest when Spencer wakes up, and his muscles protest from the extra weight when he tries to stretch.
"Stoppit," Brendon mumbles into Spencer's shoulder, his knee digging into Spencer's side.
"You stop it," Spencer groans. "How did you even stay asleep like that, oh my god."
"It was comfortable," Brendon whines, nosing at Spencer's collarbone. "I miss being able to smell you."
"Pretty sure you can still smell me," Spencer says, squeezing Brendon's hips before he turns them over onto their sides. "We reek."
"You know what I mean," Brendon says, shifting himself around until he's curled up against Spencer again.
"Are you still itchy?" Spencer asks, dreading Brendon's answer.
"Oh god, yes," Brendon says, his hand immediately going for his stomach. "Thanks for reminding me, asshole."
"Not that kind of itchy," Spencer says.
"Oh, that. No," Brendon says. "That's just on the day before the moon. It's your weirdo wolf pheromone thing."
"Oh," Spencer breathes. "Oh, you didn't mention it last time."
"I was too distracted by my never-ending boner," Brendon says around a yawn. "What's it matter?"
"Nothing," Spencer says, fidgeting with the hair at the nape of Brendon's neck. "It's nothing. You want to take a shower and then I'll make us breakfast?"
"Or," Brendon says, pulling back from Spencer and snuggling back down into his pillow, "you could go make us breakfast and I'll sleep until you bring me food."
"Yeah, or that," Spencer says, rolling his eyes and dropping a kiss to the top of Brendon's head. Brendon's already snoring lightly by the time he finds his clothes and slips out the door.
"Hey," Ryan says, shuffling his feet when Spencer comes into the kitchen. "I, um," and then he cuts off and darts in, hugging Spencer awkwardly with one arm. "So, sorry," he says. "I know the whole Brendon thing is kind of fucked up, and I didn't want to make it worse on you."
"Aww," Spencer says, "that was like an actual adult apology!"
"Oh, fuck you," Ryan snaps, struggling under Spencer's arm in an attempt to get away.
"Thanks," Spencer says quietly, squeezing Ryan against him before letting him go.
Ryan still looks a little miffed, but he just rolls his eyes at Spencer and reaches around him to grab a mug. "Is he going to be okay?" Ryan asks quietly a moment later as he's stirring creamer into his coffee.
"I don't know," Spencer says. "I guess we get to find out tonight." Spencer walks over to the fridge to distract himself, his chest already getting that horrible achey feeling again.
"Shit will work out," Ryan says seriously, and Spencer grabs some eggs hastily before he's tempted to hug Ryan again. "I mean, look how you turned out."
"Gee, thanks," Spencer mumbles, cracking the eggs into a mixing bowl.
"Ooh, eggs. Can I have some?"
"I'm making them with cheese," Spencer says, grinning at Ryan's disgusted face.
"Ugh. Gross. I'll eat a Pop-Tart instead."
"You do that," Spencer says, patting Ryan on the head with the spatula.
"Hey, Spence," Ryan says a few minutes later. "Seriously. Do you need me to do anything? Me, or Jon, both of us, we'll help. We want to, if you need something or like--"
"A pony," Brendon says, stumbling sleepily down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Tell Jon to get me a fucking pony."
"Why are you not upstairs?" Spencer asks.
"Why are you not wearing pants?" Ryan asks, horrified.
"Oh my god, Brendon," Spencer groans, because Brendon is wearing a giant hoodie that Spencer is pretty sure used to be Zack's and was stolen by Ryan. His skinny legs are sticking out from the bottom, because he is definitely not wearing pants.
"I couldn't find pants," he says, going up on his tiptoes to kiss Spencer's cheek but mostly hitting the corner of his eye. "Do those have cheese in them?"
"Yes, Brendon," Spencer says, smiling fondly in spite of himself.
"Excellent," Brendon declares, falling heavily into a chair. "Ross, go fetch me some coffee, I might be a werewolf."
"You're disgusting. You like gross eggs and you don't wear pants and I don't even care if you turn into a werewolf," Ryan says, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest.
"You'll care when I piss on your shoes," Brendon says. "It's the first thing on my list if I turn into a werewolf."
"I don't have to take this," Ryan says. "Spencer, I was going to suggest we all go hiking if you were up for it, but now I'm too scared I'd push Brendon over the edge of a mountain."
"Ooh," Brendon says. "We should totally do that. We can have a picnic and see if the ants carry Ryan away!"
"That'd be kind of neat," Jon says, rubbing his eyes as he wanders into the kitchen. "Oh hey, cheesy eggs."
"Fuck all of you," Ryan groans, dropping his head to the table.
Spencer only just manages to keep Ryan from pushing Brendon off the mountain for real, but otherwise the hike is pretty uneventful. Jon takes some pictures he thinks Shane would appreciate, and Spencer tries to stop himself from running out into the thick of the woods, the weird itchiness of his body preparing to change making him want to get away. Spencer tries not to let himself hope that Brendon isn't feeling that, the way the change pulls at your body, let's you know something's not right, but he's scared to ask. He herds everyone back after a few hours, the smells too overwhelming this close to the moon, and they all pile into the game room to watch Prisoner of Azkaban, on Jon's insistence.
"Jon," Ryan hisses when Lupin changes on screen. "Really?"
"Oh, right," Jon says. "Uh. Oops?"
Brendon just laughs, throwing his head back on Spencer's shoulder and cuddling closer to his chest, but Spencer can't quite take his eyes off the screen, watching as CGI turns Lupin into a werewolf. He only wishes it were that easy, and he gets a cold shiver of dread down his spine again at the thought of Brendon going through that. "You okay?" Brendon asks quietly when Spencer squeezes him closer.
"Yeah," Spencer says, "just-- you want to go upstairs now?" Brendon nods, grabbing Spencer's hand and pulling him off the couch.
"No offense, Jonathan," Brendon says, "but making out trumps wizards, and Ryan gets so testy when we make out in front of him."
Spencer's seriously glad for the out, and he nods reassuringly at Ryan when Ryan throws him a concerned look. "It's fine," he says, "just maybe leave the back door open and hang out in the studio or something? Just in case?"
"Spencer," Ryan says hesitantly. "Don't you think we should be there? Or at least me? What if--"
"It's fine," Spencer snaps, wincing as soon as the words are out of his mouth. "Ryan, I promise," he says, softer and apologetic. "I can't hurt Brendon, even if he does turn into a wolf. It's a mate thing," he says, trailing off into a mumble into the end.
"Aww," Jon says. "You guys are like penguins! Penguins mate for life!"
"... and so do wolves," Brendon says slowly.
"I like penguins better," Jon says with a shrug. "Or maybe beavers."
"Really?" Ryan says, his voice strained. "Are you honestly having this conversation right now?"
"Ryan," Spencer says, "let's go out back. I want to make sure the outside lights work, and you with your freaky Gumby arms are the only one who can reach them."
"You're just not subtle at all, are you?" Ryan says, but he gets up and follows Spencer with a sigh.
"This," Spencer says as soon as they're outside, "is not your fault."
"It kind of is," Ryan says, staring out at the forest and refusing to meet Spencer's eyes. "I got you bitten, and then you bit Brendon. I'm like, his grand-sire."
"A, that's vampires, and B, that would only work if you were the one who bit me," Spencer says, rubbing at his forehead. He's getting a dull headache right between his eyes. "Look. It's going to be fine, okay? I promise. If Brendon doesn't change then he can--" Spencer stops short, his stomach sinking even lower. He hadn't even thought of that, too worried about what would happen if Brendon did change. If he doesn't, then Brendon's going to see Spencer change. He's going to stand there and watch while Spencer writhes and cries and shouts, and just the thought of it makes Spencer feel sick.
"Spence," Ryan says, questioning.
"No," he says. "It's okay, I'm good, just. Leave this door open okay? And you guys go to the studio or the practice space or something. You know how-- you know that it's loud."
Ryan nods, his jaw clenched, and pats at Spencer's shoulder awkwardly as he walks past.
"I honestly thought we were going to make out. You lied to me."
"I didn't lie, I'm just--"
"Pacing?"
"Thinking," Spencer shoots back, but then he realizes this is about the fourteenth time he's walked from the door to the window. He feels restless, worried, nervous, fucking terrified, and it's hard to stay still when there's just all this waiting.
"You think too much, man. C'mere," Brendon says, holding out his hand, and Spencer looks at it warily. "Okay, how about I promise not to pull you onto the bed and sit on your dick? Come here."
Spencer snorts, pretending his cock doesn't twitch a little at that, and he lets Brendon take his hand, tugging him onto the bed. It's comforting, the way it smells like them, and how warm Brendon's hand is where his fingers are touching Spencer's. Brendon leans in to kiss Spencer slowly, and Spencer kisses back after a few seconds, their lips dry but the kiss still nice, still an easy distraction from Spencer's busy mind and the nervous churning in his stomach.
"Shh," Brendon says, like he's reading Spencer's thoughts, and he brings his hand up to cup the back of Spencer's head, kissing him deeper and opening his mouth with Spencer's. Spencer kisses back, trying to keep himself in control, but before long he's kissing Brendon desperate and messy, his hands clinging to the back of Brendon's shirt. "Spencer," Brendon says, pulling back a little. "Hey, hey, it's okay."
"It's not," Spencer says, his voice raw.
"Well, it's going to be, then," Brendon says, pulling him close and letting Spencer cling, letting him bury his nose in Brendon's neck.
"It's going to hurt," Spencer says quietly into Brendon's skin. "If you change, it's going to hurt and it's going to be my fault. And if you don't change, you're going to have watch me change and I can't-- I don't want you to see me like that," Spencer finishes, his voice cracking at the end.
"I don't care," Brendon says fiercely, pulling back until Spencer's forced to look at him. "I told you last time, and I meant it, and I still do. I don't want to see you in pain or anything, but it's not going to-- Spencer, you know it's not going to freak me out, right? Or make me reconsider anything."
"It's just-- I can't explain it," Spencer says. "Ryan, when he tried to stay with me. The look on his face. He couldn't look me in the eye for weeks."
"Ryan threw up when we watched Saw," Brendon says incredulously. "I love the guy and everything, but do you really want to base your expected reactions on Ryan?"
Spencer laughs in spite of everything, stupidly grateful for Brendon being Brendon. "I love you," he chokes out, because it's important that Brendon knows.
"I love you too," Brendon says, rolling his eyes.
"Aren't you scared?" Spencer asks. "How can you just sit there and--"
"Because if I don't then both of us will be complete messes and then who's going to be the rational one?" Brendon asks. "Yeah," he says. "I'm scared. I'm actually pretty fucking terrified because when I was kid I used to cry when I got splinters and like-- does it hurt more than a bottle to the face?"
Spencer chokes out a startled laugh. "Yeah," he says. "I'm going to say probably so, unless that bottle broke apart every bone in your body and then rearranged them all back together."
"Okay," Brendon says, swallowing. "Yeah, no, I think you win."
"Brendon--" Spencer says, but Brendon just leans forward and kisses him again, soft and a little shaky.
"Hey, you can do it, right?" Brendon says. "And I'm totally tougher than you."
"We have already had this conversation," Spencer says.
"Yet we never came to an agreement. Curious."
"You're an idiot," Spencer says fondly.
"And you're a total wimp. Now chill the fuck out and kiss me." It's a little fucked up, but knowing that Brendon is at least worried about things, even if he won't show it, goes a long way to make Spencer feel better, even if it is dangerously close to sunset.
"How do you feel?" he asks after a few minutes, pulling back. The sun's just starting to set, and Spencer's on edge, his entire body tight and itchy.
"Nervous?" Brendon answers, biting at his swollen lips. "What do you mean?"
"Like, your skin," Spencer says. He tries desperately to remember if it had felt this way the first time, but most of those memories are nothing but hazy impressions of being completely and utterly terrified.
"It feels like skin?" Brendon tries.
"You're not, like, itchy and tight?" Spencer asks. "Or like there's something in your stomach that's trying to get out?" Brendon's eyes light up, and Spencer snaps, "Brendon, do not do the Alien chest burster thing right now, I swear to god."
"No," Brendon says. "I feel normal, just worried, and now a little disappointed because I do an awesome Alien chest burster."
"The very best," Spencer says, getting up from the bed and starting to pace again. "What about your bones? Are they aching?"
"No," Brendon says. "No, Spencer, I feel fine, but maybe you should--"
"Anything at all," Spencer asks desperately. His joints are starting to crack with every step he takes, his bones aching as they prepare to change. He knows that if Brendon was feeling the same thing, he would know, he'd be able to smell Brendon's distress, his pain. But all he can smell coming off of Brendon right now is worry and nerves. Spencer's body is telling him to run, to turn around and run out the door and out into the forest, but he can't. What if he's wrong and it's not like this the first time? He can't leave Brendon to go through this alone.
"Spencer," Brendon says, getting up with ease, his movements smooth and easy, not pained and jerky like Spencer's. "Spence, I think it's going to be-- is it time? Because I don't feel anything. I think it's going to be fine."
Spencer can feel his spine ripple as Brendon walks toward him, his skin stretching out tight, and when Brendon reaches for his hand, Spencer's knuckles and wrists start to pop, shifting, getting ready. Brendon startles a little, looking down at Spencer's hand with something like fascination as his bones press up and settle back down, and all of a sudden Spencer-- he can't. He can't be here, can't let Brendon see him like this.
"If anything happens," Spencer says, his voice strained and rough. "If we're wrong, and you change, you find me. You'll be able to smell me, I promise, and I won't go far, but I can't-- promise me."
"Spencer," Brendon says, as he heads toward the door. "Spencer, don't go. You don't have to do that."
"Promise," Spencer groans, his hand shaking on the door knob.
"Okay," Brendon says, hurriedly. "Okay, I promise, but Spencer--"
Spencer's out the door and down the stairs before Brendon's sentence is over, racing onto the patio and tossing himself over the rail. He lands shakily on his feet on the ground below before falling to his knees as his legs start to crack and reform. Spencer can see the window to their room from here, can see the curtain pull back, but he drags himself under the edge of the porch before he can see Brendon's face. He collapses onto the cold, rocky ground and tries his best not to scream.
Each time he changes, there's this weird moment where Spencer, as far as he can tell, just blacks out. It's this in-between time he doesn't think he'll ever get back, when he's not strictly human but he's not exactly a wolf yet. He comes to fully changed, recent enough that everything still hurts and he's still shaky in his body, still stumbles when he tries to stand up on two legs instead of four paws. This time, though, Spencer comes to halfway up the patio stairs, his back paws scrabbling at the back steps as he regains consciousness and his brain takes over. Spencer's confused and disoriented, more so than usual, but when he reaches the top of the stairs and takes a shaky step onto the patio, all of a sudden it's clear, entirely clear. Spencer focuses and sprints through the open door and up the staircase, bursting through the half-open door into his room. He lets out a low, relieved whine he sees Brendon sitting on the bed, looking at Spencer with wide, surprised eyes.
Brendon speaks, but Spencer can't really understand him. He hears his name, and he recognizes Brendon's voice, but all he can do is whine and whimper, so he pads forward and noses at Brendon's palm, sniffing at his arms and legs, making sure he's okay. Brendon pets his head tentatively and Spencer pushes up into it, crawling up onto the bed and settling himself across Brendon's legs. He recognizes Brendon's laughter, his scent, and Spencer makes a pleased, rumbling noise deep in his chest as he curls up at Brendon's feet.
When Spencer wakes up, he's curled up around Brendon's legs, his nose pressed into the back of Brendon's knee. He remembers vague, sporadic things from the night before - finding Brendon, following him down to the kitchen and eating what he seriously hopes was chili and not actual dog food, curling up behind Brendon's knees when he got into bed and falling asleep with Brendon's hand patting at his head - but mostly he just remembers relief. He sits up, groaning loudly at his stiff muscles and bones before freezing and remembering that Brendon's probably still asleep.
"Shit," Spencer swears, and his voice isn't as rough as it usually is. He thinks he probably didn't howl as much, but then Brendon's sitting up, stretching out on the bed next to Spencer.
"'M awake, idiot."
"Right. I knew that," Spencer mumbles, stretching out a little and winching when his joints pop and his bones shift in protest.
"So, hey, why do you stay down there all night anyway? I'd be okay if you wanted to, like, share a pillow with me up here. You're pretty fuzzy for a mutt."
Spencer shoots Brendon a glare and is mildly annoyed with himself for actually getting defensive. Brendon laughs, and Spencer ignores him as he crawls up the bed, sliding an arm around Brendon's waist. "I'm not a mutt. I'm a ferocious werewolf, asshole." He shoves his nose into the crook of Brendon's neck and lets Brendon's scent help him relax and forget about how his skin still feels weird, like it's too stretched and doesn't fit quite right.
"The worst you could do to me is slobber all over the pillow, and sometimes you do that anyway. I guess you could nuzzle me to death."
"I'll show you nuzzling to death," Spencer says, rubbing his nose over Brendon's collarbone, and Brendon laughs and turns around in Spencer's arms, kissing him on the mouth. Spencer kisses back until Brendon breaks the kiss to yawn, laughing as soon as he's finished.
"Oh god, sorry, sorry."
Spencer smiles, sliding his hand down to rub at Brendon's hip. "Okay, yeah, we should just go back to bed. C'mon, sleepy," Spencer says, reaching for the blankets, but Brendon sits up.
"No, no, I'm good! I think Ryan and Jon are attempting to make breakfast for us, anyway. There's no point going to sleep now. And hey," Brendon adds, moving the pillows around so he can settle himself behind Spencer, "wouldn't you rather have a back rub? I have magic hands, Spencer, you know this."
"You're ridiculous," Spencer says, moving forward on the bed, "and I love you. A back rub sounds amazing."
Brendon settles in close behind Spencer, using his thumbs to start pressing at the muscles of Spencer's shoulders, where he's most tense. Spencer drops his head forward and moans shamelessly, the hard pressure just what he needs right now.
"How long does the pain last?" Brendon asks, a little softer, and Spencer reaches back to touch Brendon's knee in what he hopes in a comforting gesture.
"Not long. After a few days I don't even feel it anymore."
"Why do you think I didn't change?" Brendon says after a minute or two, his voice oddly tight.
"I guess I would have to bite you as a wolf," Spencer says. "Which obviously shouldn't be a problem since my number one priority as a wolf seems to be cuddling."
"You're definitely the cuddliest werewolf I've ever met," Brendon says, his hands warm and strong on Spencer's back. He's quiet for a few minutes, just rubbing at Spencer's neck and back and shoulders until Spencer's drifting, warm and happy and pleasantly relaxed. "Are you disappointed I didn't change?" Brendon blurts out suddenly, and Spencer can't hide the way he goes tense everywhere under Brendon's hands. Brendon rests his hands on Spencer's shoulders and Spencer twists around, looking at the worried expression on Brendon's face.
"Brendon, what the actual fuck? Of course I'm not disappointed," Spencer says. "Why would I be?"
"I don't know," Brendon says, reaching up to rub at Spencer's neck until he has to turn his head back around. It's a sneaky move, but it also feels amazing enough that Spencer can't quite bring himself to protest. "I just thought maybe it would be easier for you if I was a werewolf too."
"Did we not already discuss this?" Spencer groans. "All we'd do is fuck, like, all the time, which would seriously hinder the whole paid touring musicians thing."
"Yeah, but, I don't know. What if you meet some exotic lady werewolf, like on Buffy, and you have an instant connection, and I'm just Willow in a fuzzy sweater and you drive away in your van and then I become a lesbian?"
"Yes," Spencer says. "Yes, that's exactly what will happen, so sorry."
"You know what I mean," Brendon says, frustration creeping into his voice. "What if you're supposed to be with another werewolf and you can't help it?"
"That's not how it works," Spencer says, his voice calm and gentle. He's pretty sure Brendon's actually upset; his hands have stopped rubbing and started just stroking over Spencer's skin, soft and shaky. "You're my mate, Brendon. I can't really-- it's hard to explain. I just know. It's why I came back. I couldn't help it. I had to stay with you."
"See?" Brendon says. "If I was a wolf too--"
"Yeah, no," Spencer says. "That's not. I like it like this. I like knowing you'll be here when I get back. I like having a reason to come back. Those first times I changed, it was just... running, you know? Running and trying to get away from things, not trying to get to something."
"That was almost deep," Brendon says, but he sounds a little more relaxed, his hands starting back up, rubbing at Spencer's shoulders.
"Fuck you," Spencer says sleepily, rolling his shoulders into Brendon's hands. "Besides, I could never leave you and your magic hands."
"We could have chased squirrels together," Brendon says sadly. "Finally gotten Ryan the friend he's always dreamed of."
"And end up writing a record full of squirrel soliloquies? I'll pass."
Brendon leans down over Spencer's back, pressing himself close and nosing through Spencer's hair so he can kiss Spencer's cheek, press his lips to the parts of Spencer's jaw he can get to under his beard. "You promise you'll never leave me for another sexy werewolf, and I'll keep my hands off of underage bag boys, okay?" he whispers into Spencer's ear.
"Deal," Spencer replies, turning his head and straining his neck up so he can meet Brendon's mouth. "But if I ever meet a sexy mermaid, we may have to renegotiate."
"Well, duh," Brendon says against his lips. "Sea-shell bra. We could probably work something out."
"We made breakfast," Ryan says as soon as Spencer steps into the kitchen. Jon shoots him a pointed look. "Jon made breakfast, and I helped."
"What'd you burn?" Spencer asks, automatically reaching behind himself and grabbing at Brendon's waist as he comes into the kitchen.
"Everything," Jon says. "Apparently I don't know how to make pancakes the way you like them, so Ryan had to do it himself. That was an hour and half a box of pancake mix ago."
"I poured the milk," Ryan says. "So fuck you."
"And a lovely job you did," Brendon says, voice serious.
"Don't think I don't know you're mocking me," Ryan says. "I know. I'm just being the bigger person."
"You have fun with that," Brendon says, grabbing a pancake off the top of the stack and dipping in into the center of the bowl of butter.
"Dude," Jon says. "Dude, communal."
"I'm not going to double dip," Brendon says around a mouthful of food. "See?" He dips the opposite end of his pancake into the butter next.
"Now what, genius?" Ryan says when Brendon takes a bite and has half the pancake left.
"Now I am going to double dip," Brendon explains, doing so obnoxiously slow.
"You're disgusting," Spencer says, dropping a kiss to the nape of Brendon's neck. "Now go find the syrup."
"Oh, fuck," Ryan says. "Syrup. That's what I forgot."
"I have to say," Jon tells Spencer as he puts a plate of eggs on the table, "watching you follow Brendon around like a very large puppy last night was, like, the highlight of my year."
"Oh, fuck you," Spencer groans. Of course Jon would have seen that. Spencer's never felt aggression toward Ryan or Jon when he was a wolf, and he's pretty sure he can't since he feels like they're part of his pack, but it makes him feel better regardless that there's no immediate worry of him hurting Ryan or Jon, at least.
"I was thinking," Jon continues, "that if you're going to be sticking close to home when you change now, we should invest in some tennis balls. You'd be so cute running down the hallway after them."
"I will stab you with this fork," Spencer says. "Don't think I won't."
"We could get you a collar," Ryan says, thumping the syrup down in the middle of the table and sitting down. "One with spikes, so you can look all tough."
"Actually, Spencer, speaking of collars--" Brendon says, and Spencer groans right along with Ryan and Jon.
"Stop talking immediately," Spencer tells Brendon.
"I was on this website with all this leather stuff--"
"I hate you," Ryan whines, getting up and walking out of the room with his plate of pancakes clutched to his chest.
"So," Brendon says later that day, tossing his phone onto the table and straddling Spencer on the love seat. "Shane would like you to know he's coming by tomorrow to film some stuff and would like to request that you let him know if you're likely to murder him."
"I know," Spencer says. "I heard you on the phone. Also, you did not heroically save me from near death, Brendon, you just stopped Ryan from falling on top of my kit when he tripped."
"Which would have killed you, because you would have gone into a violent rage and burst a blood vessel in your forehead and gotten a brain aneurysm and died."
"I take it back," Spencer says. "You're a true hero."
"Thought so," Brendon says, ducking down to kiss Spencer softly. "So, Shane. You okay with that?"
"Yes," Spencer says rolling his eyes. "How many times have I told you that last time was a result of special circumstances."
"Special circumstances like you being a jealous werewolf, which you still are."
"But it's not close to the moon this time," Spencer says. "I'm totally cool. I am completely chill and completely awesome, and I'm not going to murder Shane even a little."
"Personal growth," Brendon says happily, holding out his hand. "Dude, high five."
"This is what I've been saying," Spencer grumbles, but he smacks Brendon's hand anyway.