Need You Wild 8/12
Link to full header and warnings - Link to part 7
Spencer's nervous and restless the next day, his skin tight and itchy, and he can't seem to sit still. He fidgets with the leg of Brendon's jeans, the hem of his t-shirt, the ends of his hair, anything he can reach at any given time. That night Brendon fucks him again, hard and perfect but still not enough to get Spencer out of his head, make him calm down enough to sleep. Then he fucks Brendon deep, staying close and just grinding in until Brendon's hard again. By the time Brendon's finished fucking Spencer a second time, he's pretty much half asleep, slumped over Spencer's chest, exhausted and panting. Spencer curls up behind him and spends the night dozing restlessly, his nose pressed to Brendon's neck and his hand cupping Brendon's soft cock, the moonlight from the open window washing over them.
Spencer doesn't really fall asleep, but at some point the light behind his eyelids goes from blue to orange, and his brain engages enough to realize it's morning, and that Brendon's cock has gone half hard in his hand, warm and heavy. Spencer knows that Brendon's tired, knows that he was kind of demanding last night and Brendon deserves his sleep, but the itch under his skin is almost unbearable now, constant and burning. Spencer squeezes around Brendon's cock without really meaning to, nuzzling at the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon's sweaty where their bodies are pressed together, and Spencer breathes it in, darting his tongue out to lick at the sweat on the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon makes an intrigued noise in his sleep, his hips starting to press forward a little into Spencer's hand, and it's not the first time they've woken each other up for sex, but Spencer still feels vaguely guilty. He's going to take his hand away and kiss Brendon awake, he absolutely is, but then Brendon's turning over sleepily, mumbling as he starts to come to.
Brendon nuzzles into Spencer's neck and throws his leg over Spencer's hips, wiggling around until he's settled in. "Were you just molesting me in my sleep?" he asks, his voice rough and slurred.
"Little bit," Spencer answers honestly. "Couldn't help it."
"S'ok," Brendon says, nosing at Spencer's collarbone. "You smell different," he mumbles, breathing in deep. "Good. Better."
"I think that's my line," Spencer says, but he's a little confused, because he can't smell a difference. He still smells like sweat and sleep and Brendon, which is awesome, but Brendon's pressing closer, rubbing his nose into the hollow of Spencer's throat. His hips start rocking forward softly, like he doesn't realize he's doing it, but it makes his cock drag across Spencer's stomach, makes his scent flare. Before Spencer's even fully processed the idea, he's got Brendon flipped onto his back, nosing down his body until he can get at his cock. Brendon still smells the same, which means he smells fucking amazing, and Spencer spends a few minutes just breathing him in, licking and sucking at the crease of Brendon's thighs and the base of his cock. He keeps going until Brendon's pressing up and whining.
"Spence, c'mon," Brendon says softly, reaching down to touch Spencer's hair, and Spencer nuzzles up into the touch.
"Mine," Spencer says in a low voice, as he licks over the base of Brendon's cock.
"Yeah, yours," Brendon says impatiently, arching up and twisting his hips.
Spencer grips Brendon's hips a little tighter and sinks his mouth down around Brendon's cock, taking him as deep as he can. Brendon gasps, his hips bucking and his cock hitting the back of Spencer's throat. Spencer keeps swallowing, though, tasting pre-come and breathing in the heavy scent of Brendon's arousal and wanting more. It's only when Brendon starts to whine that Spencer pulls off, licking over Brendon's cock, pressing his tongue to the head over and over again until Brendon tugs sharply at Spencer's hair.
"You don't even realize you're teasing, do you?" Brendon rasps out, hips still twisting slowly with Spencer's tongue. "Fuck, Spencer."
"Sorry," Spencer breathes out quietly, but he's not, because Brendon tastes amazing like this, still a little like come from last night. He goes to mouth at the base again, rubbing slow circles into Brendon's hips with his thumbs, feeling the way Brendon's body is strung up tight and almost shaking.
"Please," Brendon says, his voice louder like he's starting to wake up, and Spencer takes Brendon back into his mouth, his tongue flat to the underside of Brendon's cock as he swallows around him. Spencer doesn't want Brendon to come yet, because he could do this for hours, but Brendon's hands are tugging harder at Spencer's hair, his stomach jumping and his breathing shallow. Spencer loves that he can tell when Brendon's close, the way his scent is all Spencer can smell when he breathes in.
"Spence, I'm--" Brendon babbles, and Spencer pulls back a little, just sucking around the head, waiting for Brendon to come. Brendon's breath hitches and then Spencer can taste it, wet on his tongue, and he automatically keeps swallowing around Brendon's cock. Once Brendon's body has relaxed, Spencer pulls off out of habit, not because Brendon yells at him for forgetting he's still a human with a normal dick. He keeps licking at the base of Brendon's cock, though, and when Brendon starts to hum happily, making his interested noise, Spencer stops and blinks.
"Oh, hey," Spencer says, because oh, hey.
"Are you seriously chatting up my--" Brendon stops, lifting his head up to stare down at Spencer, and when he reaches down to grab his still-hard cock, he doesn't hiss from oversensitivity.
"Uh," Brendon says, shaking his dick a little. "What did you do?"
"What did I do?" Spencer repeats. "It's not my dick, dude."
"I know," Brendon says, a little hysterically. "I know it's not, which is why it shouldn't still be hard. Oh my god, I caught it. We had too much sex, and I caught your perma-boner, which I guess isn't so bad as far as STDs go, but--"
"Brendon," Spencer cuts him off. "Maybe it is a wolf thing. I mean, it's the day before the moon, maybe it's a--" Spencer doesn't want to say mate, he really doesn't, but he can't think of how else to phrase it. "Maybe because we're together," he says instead, "it's like a backup plan. Didn't you say I smelled different? Maybe it's like a pheromone thing."
Spencer had, somewhat embarrassingly, done some googling after Shane left, and he remembers something about scent bonding in mates, and increased arousal around the moon for better chances of mating. He doesn't want to say all that, because it's not like he's trying to knock Brendon up, but there wasn't exactly an online support group called, "So, You're A Gay Werewolf! What Now?" Maybe he should have sucked it up and watched Ryan's Power Point after all.
"Let me get this straight," Brendon says, pulling Spencer out of his mental freak out. "Your werewolf super powers are making sure I stay hard enough that we can fuck all day."
Spencer winces and nods slowly, bracing himself for a long, sexless day full of having to smell Brendon jerk off every five minutes and then glare at Spencer, but Brendon just breaks out into a wide smile and says, "Holy shit. Awesome."
It is awesome. It turns out sex doesn't get any less fun when you can have orgasms over and over and over again, and Spencer kind of can't believe it when he's the one who has to make them stop for a lunch break when Brendon's stomach keeps growling.
"We can eat later," Brendon says, groaning and snapping his hips forward into Spencer.
"Now is the-- fuck, now is the perfect time," Spencer gasps, and then he plays dirty, clenches down around Brendon's cock until Brendon whines a little and stills his hips.
"Fine," Brendon says, wincing. "Just stop it, oh my god."
"It had to be done," Spencer gasps as Brendon pulls out quickly and not particularly gently. "You've gone sex crazed."
Brendon gives Spencer a pointed look, glancing down at the come that's pretty much everywhere - on Spencer's stomach and his thighs and the sheets. "Fine," Spencer admits, rolling to his side and grabbing his sweats from the floor. "We both went sex crazed. But now it's time to eat delicious, delicious food so we can have a lot more sex."
"Well when you put it that way," Brendon says, catching the shirt Spencer tosses at him with a grimace. "This has come all over it," Brendon says. "I think you wiped off with it last night."
"We really need to do laundry," Spencer says, rooting around through the pile of clothes on the floor. "Hah, here," he says, tossing Brendon a shirt that is stain free.
"We really need to wash more than just our clothes," Brendon mutters, pulling the shirt over his head and stepping closer to Spencer. "But god, Spencer, the way you smell." Brendon nuzzles his face against Spencer's shoulder before he can put on a shirt as well, and Spencer laughs.
"You can never make fun of me again, you know. Never."
"Whatever," Brendon says, pulling on his own sweatpants and making a half-hearted attempt to pat his hair down from where it's sticking up in all directions. "Let's hurry up, though. I think I want you to come on my face after I fuck you again."
"Oh my god," Spencer whines, following Brendon out of their room. He has no idea if he's actually going to live through the rest of the day, not to mention tomorrow, if they're still this horny. Fuck, what is his life.
"Ahh, look at that," Jon says in an exaggerated announcer voice, "the hungry, horny North American Werewolf emerges from its cave!" Spencer flips him off, and Jon grins and continues stirring sugar into his coffee while Brendon and Spencer wander into the kitchen. Brendon puts some water on to boil for hot dogs, and Spencer digs the condiments out from the refrigerator, but not before dropping a quick kiss to the back of Brendon's neck. When Spencer sits down at the table, Ryan is peering at him over a glass of orange juice and looking a little green.
"Hey, Spence," Ryan says. "We've been listening to you two fuck for the last five hours, so I was thinking we should have a talk about boundaries."
"Oh god, please, no," Spencer groans, letting his head fall to the table, and Jon laughs before heading into the living room.
"No, really, we could take the mattresses from the studio and line your bedroom walls with them," Ryan suggests. "Or you guys could, you know, not spend an entire day having loud sex."
"It's not Spencer's fault," Brendon says, walking over to plop down in Spencer's lap. "It's the day before the moon. It's a wolf thing." Spencer knows Brendon is trying to help, but Brendon is also clinging to his neck and nosing into the hair above his ear, and Spencer's pretty sure that's not actually doing much to make Ryan feel better.
"Oh, come on," Ryan groans, "could you at least stop it when you're in communal spaces?"
"Hey, Ryan," Brendon says, sliding one of his hands up the sleeve of Spencer's shirt to get at more skin. "Remember that time Keltie came on tour with us and we all had to listen to you for like a week?"
"That was not nearly as bad," Ryan says, bristling.
"Oh," Brendon gasps, pitching his voice low and deep in a decent impersonation of Ryan. "Oh, god, I'm gonna-- unnnngh."
Spencer grimaces at the realism and Ryan shoves his chair back, pushing his glass to the middle of the table. "Fuck you," he says. "Also, you have come in your hair."
Ryan stomps out, and Spencer can just barely hear him telling Jon to get dressed, and something about sexual harassment, over the sound of Brendon's laughter.
They end up eating an entire pack of hot dogs before they head back upstairs, and Spencer manages to keep Brendon's hands off of him right up until they're actually inside the door.
"Ooof," he says when Brendon pushes him against the wall and starts kissing at his neck. "You are so much worse than I ever was."
"But just today," Brendon says, pressing himself in against Spencer. "You're like this all the time, so technically you're worse."
"What if this is a permanent thing now?" Spencer asks with a grin. "What if both of us have never-ending perma-boners?"
"Then Ryan is going to be even more pissed because we're never leaving this room again," Brendon says, sliding his hands up Spencer's shirt and tugging it over his head. "We're just going to stay right here and never stop having sex."
Spencer laughs and walks Brendon back to the bed, shoving at his shoulders when he tries to hang on and keep kissing Spencer's neck. Brendon finally lets go just long enough for Spencer to get both of them naked, and then Brendon's crawling into Spencer's lap, pushing him down on the bed and kissing him hard on the mouth.
"Fuck," Brendon gasps out between kisses as he rubs himself against Spencer's thigh. "This doesn't get any less hot. And the way you smell."
Spencer grins, his hands sliding down Brendon's back and pushing down, pressing Brendon closer. "I told you so."
Brendon doesn't answer, just kisses Spencer again and starts rocking down in his lap, gasping against Spencer's lips when their cocks slide together. Brendon grabs at Spencer's hair, pulling his head back so Brendon can get at his neck. Spencer groans, closing his eyes and pressing back against the sharp pull of Brendon's hand as Brendon kisses and sucks at his neck. He should be tired, should be exhausted and sore by now, but mostly Spencer just wants more, wants to fuck Brendon, wants Brendon to fuck him, wants anything. The itch under his skin has settled into this constant, dull ache that gets stronger and stronger the more turned on Spencer gets, and he can't seem to get enough.
"Is this what I smell like all the time?" Brendon asks gruffly as he sniffs under Spencer's ear and down his neck, stopping to suck at the hollow of Spencer's throat.
"Better," Spencer says, arching his hips up and rubbing his cock into the crease of Brendon's thigh when Brendon bites down on the muscle in his neck. There's no way he can smell as good as Brendon does - nothing smells as good as Brendon does - but the way Brendon can't seem to stop sniffing and mouthing at his neck is so familiar that Spencer figures he must at least be close. Spencer slides his hands down from Brendon's hips to his ass, trying to pull him even closer. The tips of his fingers just barely brush between Brendon's ass, but Brendon still gasps and bites down on the skin of Spencer's throat again, rocking his hips forward.
Brendon's teeth send a sharp jolt up Spencer's spine, and he squeezes harder at Brendon's ass, holding him open and reaching out to touch, loving the way it makes Brendon squirm. Spencer touches at Brendon's hole and groans at how wet Brendon is, still stretched and ready from earlier. Spencer can't resist pushing two fingers inside, crying out when Brendon bites down on his throat even harder, his teeth digging in and holding on tight as Spencer starts to move his fingers. Brendon's making high, needy sounds that are muffled by Spencer's neck as he rocks back on Spencer's fingers and pushes his cock forward against Spencer's hip. Spencer's so sensitive, so on edge that he can feel the vibration of them against his skin between Brendon's teeth, and he twists his fingers up, hard and purposeful, until Brendon clenches down around them and bucks forward, coming hot and wet across Spencer's stomach.
"Fuck," Brendon pants out, his voice shaky and his mouth red and wet when he finally releases Spencer's neck from his mouth. Brendon reaches back and grabs onto Spencer's wrist, digging his fingers in as he pulls Spencer's hand away.
"Hey," Spencer says, "I was busy with that," and then, "Oh shit," because Brendon lifts up just enough to sink back down onto Spencer's cock, sudden and fast and without warning. It makes Spencer's head spin - one second his cock is sliding against the soft skin of Brendon's thigh and the next he's as deep as he can get in Brendon's ass, just like that. Spencer blinks dazedly a few times before he can remember how to talk. "I thought," he says brokenly, "I thought you were gonna fuck me."
"Change of plans," Brendon says, his eyes dark and intent as he stares down at Spencer and starts shifting forward slowly. "That okay?"
"Yes," Spencer says, his eyes going a little unfocused as Brendon starts to move. He doesn't pull up, just spreads his knees wider and wider until he's as far down as he can get and starts rocking back and forth, working Spencer's cock inside of him. It feels fucking amazing. He's so deep and Brendon's so wet and warm, clenching down around Spencer's cock like he just wants to feel it.
"Brendon," Spencer says helplessly because all of a sudden he's right there, his stomach drawn up tight and hot, and Brendon just nods, closing his eyes and bracing his hands on Spencer's shoulders as Spencer comes with a groan. Brendon keeps rocking in his lap, squeezing around Spencer, and Spencer's thighs are shaking, the ache under his skin still flaring, still pounding in his gut. Spencer's never felt like this before, never been so close so fast, and it almost hurts, making everything feel bright and sharp. Brendon's still clenching around Spencer's cock as he moves in his lap, and Spencer lets out a noise that sounds almost like a yelp when he comes again, staring up into Brendon's eyes.
"Jesus," Brendon says roughly, finally stilling when Spencer grabs at his hips and squeezes, hard, much harder than he'd normally let himself. "Spencer, how did--" Brendon trails off, his eyes going wide, and Spencer nearly shouts when Brendon shifts his knees so he can lift up and sink back down onto Spencer's cock.
"Brendon, fuck, wait," Spencer says desperately, panting, because his whole body is screaming that it's too much, too soon after his weird, intense double orgasm.
"Just," Brendon says, grabbing Spencer's hand and guiding it back, and Spencer's thoroughly confused until Brendon guides Spencer's fingers to where Brendon's stretched around his cock.
"Oh," Spencer says. "Oh, fuck," because he can feel his come dripping out, sliding out of Brendon and down the length of his cock.
"Please, Spence, let me," Brendon whines as he tries to move again, lifting himself up on Spencer's cock. Spencer still feels kind of raw, like his skin's been scrubbed too hard, but he can feel how wet Brendon is inside, and Spencer groans and lets go of Brendon's hip, letting Brendon move. Brendon doesn't waste any time, lifts himself up and sinks back down in long, slow strokes, and Spencer can feel it, feel the way his come is dripping out down the length of his cock. Spencer lifts his hand back up, rubbing his fingers over Brendon's hole, down his own cock, getting them wet with come.
Spencer can smell it, smell them, thick and heavy in the air, and he doesn't realize he's bringing his fingers up to his mouth until Brendon grabs his wrist and stops him. "Sorry," Spencer says, too turned on to be embarrassed, but then Brendon rolls his eyes and sucks Spencer's fingers into his own mouth, moaning around them. "Fucking fuck," Spencer says, his eyes going so wide it hurts a little.
"Does it always taste like this?" Brendon asks, letting Spencer's fingers out of his mouth reluctantly.
"Yes," Spencer says, still staring at Brendon's mouth.
Brendon makes a considering noise and then lifts off of Spencer's cock suddenly, leaving Spencer's hips jerking stupidly up into thin air. "Hey, wait," he says, confused, but then Brendon's kneeling between his legs, taking Spencer's cock into his mouth, and Spencer is going to die. "Fuck, Brendon," Spencer groans, tangling his hands in Brendon's hair as Brendon sucks at him, his tongue curling around to take in the taste. Brendon pulls off wetly after a moment, leaning down to lick at the base of Spencer's cock and up, long stripes of his tongue.
"Hmm," he says after a moment, pulling back and resting his head against Spencer's hip so he can bury his nose in the hair above Spencer's cock. "This is awesome." Spencer mumbles his agreement and pets at Brendon's hair weakly. He's not even tired - he's still hard and aching and turned on - but Spencer's never in his life come that hard before, and he feels drained, his limbs heavy and his mind going slow. Which is why, he's pretty sure, it takes him a second to work out exactly what Brendon means when he kisses the base of Spencer's cock and sits up, his eyes dark and wild and trained on Spencer, and says, "Okay. Your turn."
He figures it out by the time Brendon's kneeling between his legs and rubbing his cock against Spencer's ass, but it still takes him far longer than he's proud of.
A few hours later they finally agree to take a shower (or rather, Spencer drags Brendon into the bathroom), even though Brendon insists there's no point changing the sheets. He's kind of right, although Spencer still feels bad for the general state of the bed. He cracks open a window to sort of even it out, and then, still damp from the shower, Brendon's crawling on top of Spencer on the bed and nuzzling into his neck.
"I'm glad the shower didn't wash your smell away," Brendon says, and Spencer squeezes at Brendon's hip.
"If it did, do you think I would ever let you shower?"
Brendon pokes him in the belly, but whatever, it's true.
"Um," Jon says tentatively from outside their door. "Knock knock."
Brendon makes to spring apart, but Spencer holds Brendon in place, grabbing a sheet to pull over them instead. "Uh, we're under the covers? You can come in."
Jon opens the door slowly, almost comically so, and when he sees that they're both indeed under the covers, his shoulders slump a little in relief.
"The sex noises had stopped for, like, ten minutes, so I figured I was safe. And that this would save Ryan unnecessary trauma." Jon holds up a bag with carry-out boxes in it. "I come bearing chicken."
"You're a good man," Spencer says at the same time Brendon says, "I love you."
"As long as you never express that love without your pants on, we're good," Jon says, setting the bag on the bed. "Careful, there's drinks in there."
"Full service!" Brendon says, grinning.
"I really, really recommend not coming back down stairs," Jon says. "Ryan keeps ranting about propriety and how we don't have enough money for separate buses. Trust me, it's killing my boner."
"Noted," Spencer says, grinning as Brendon sits up and Jon quickly looks away when the sheets slide down.
"Right," Jon says. "I'm going to leave before I have to see someone's dick."
"Thank you for the chicken," Brendon calls after him. "Make sure you tell Ryan it will give us the strength to fuck for several more hours!"
"Fuck you!" Ryan shouts, loud enough that Spencer doesn't even have to strain to hear it.
"We have got to stop at some point," Spencer groans into Brendon's neck.
"No we don't," Brendon says sleepily, barely rocking his hips up. "This is great, I feel fine."
"You're yawning," Spencer says, grinding forward until Brendon's hips are trapped against the bed. He's pretty much just lying on top of Brendon, keeping his cock deep and moving in slow, lazy circles.
"So," Brendon says around another yawn. "This is fine, let's just-- come on, stay like this."
"And what, fuck you to sleep?" Spencer groans. It's not that today hasn't been the best thing ever, but Spencer doesn't know if he can actually come anymore, which is a problem he never thought he'd have. As it is, his cock is only half hard, and Brendon's clenching down around him less and less as he gets more and more tired.
"It's not the worst idea I've ever heard," Brendon says, his voice slurred. Spencer can feel him relaxing, his body going loose and boneless bit by bit.
"Oh my god, you're actually falling asleep, aren't you?" Spencer says, nuzzling his nose into Brendon's neck.
"Am not," Brendon says, but Spencer can hear his heartbeat starting to even out and go slow and steady, feel the way his breath is coming out deep and even. Spencer means to pull out, he really does, but Brendon is warm and familiar beneath him, around him, and he's all Spencer can smell, all he can feel. He falls asleep with his mouth skimming the curve of Brendon's shoulder and his hand still curled around Brendon's wrists, Brendon's breath tickling the hair on his arms.
Spencer can't help the slight disappointment he feels when he wakes up and his cock isn't still buried in Brendon's ass, but he settles for pulling Brendon closer to his chest, nuzzling into his neck, and that isn't so bad. They slept in late, because the sun is up and he has to pee, and he thinks he can feel Brendon's stomach rumbling under his hand. Even with Brendon close and the not-so-distant memories of their all-day sex-a-thon, Spencer still has a heavy, unsettled feeling in his stomach, a little like dread. He presses soft kisses to Brendon's neck, trying to ignore the itchiness under his skin, like it's already trying to shift and change shape.
"Mmm, 'morning," Brendon mumbles as he starts to stir in Spencer's arms, his toes curling against Spencer's shins when he stretches.
"It's kind of afternoon."
"Same difference," Brendon says right before tilting his head back and yawning. He's still warm and his heartbeat is steady, and Spencer buries his face into the hair at the nape of Brendon's neck, breathing in slowly to try and stave off his panic attack.
"Hey. Hey, Spence, are you okay? Is today--"
"Uh huh," Spencer says into Brendon's skin, pulling Brendon closer to himself.
"Oh. Oh, hey, let's--" Brendon twists around in Spencer's arms and Spencer's a little surprised when Brendon breaks his hold to wrap his arms around Spencer, hugging him close. Spencer doesn't fight it, though, pressing his ear to Brendon's chest and trying not to whimper. He doesn't care if he's being stupid - he's terrified. Brendon rubs slowly over Spencer's back, and Spencer tries to snuggle closer. He knows he logically can't get so close they fuse into one being, but. Spencer might as well try.
"Come on, Spencer, you got this. Stop worrying when it's still hours away."
"Easy for you to say when you're not going to kill all your friends," Spencer mumbles, squeezing at Brendon's hip. Brendon snorts.
"You're not going to kill all your friends, idiot. I can't believe that the werewolf part of you would kill me after having, like, fifteen hours of sex with me yesterday."
"I think you're missing the point," Spencer says, but he's grinning despite himself. "I still think we should stay here as long as we possibly can, though." Spencer says, right as his stomach growls loudly.
Brendon laughs, loud and happy in his ear. "Come on," he says, hoisting them up. "Shower, and then we'll go find food."
Spencer groans, trying to make himself heavy and limp. It works for all of thirty seconds before Brendon glares at him and digs his fingers in under Spencer's ribs, right where he's the most ticklish.
"Asshole," Spencer gasps, squirming. "Stop that, I have to pee."
"Up, then," Brendon says, standing up and pulling at Spencer's hands. Spencer sighs and sits up, wrapping his arms around Brendon's waist and resting his head on Brendon's stomach. "Come on, Spence. It's going to be fine," Brendon says, petting lightly at his hair.
Brendon sounds so sure, and Spencer wishes he could believe him. He kisses at Brendon's stomach for a second before letting Brendon haul him all the way up off the bed.
"When I kill you all," Spencer says as he follows Brendon the bathroom, "I'm going to say I told you so to your corpses."
Spencer's nervous and clingy all day, despite how hard he tries to snap himself out of it. He can't help it; he wants to be near Brendon. He's at least thankful Brendon doesn't call him on it, like when Spencer barely lets go of Brendon's hips while they're in the shower, or when he pulls Brendon's chair close to his at breakfast - or more accurately, lunch. Ryan wants to watch a movie, and Spencer's so, so tempted to say no and just pull Brendon back into their bed with him until Spencer has to leave, but Ryan's eyes are wide and hopeful and he's holding out the Jurassic Park box set, and Spencer can't tell him no. He knows how Ryan gets, equal parts protective and guilty, and Spencer doesn't want to make it worse on him. Besides, he does fucking love Jurassic Park.
"You know we don't have time to watch all of those, right?" Spencer reminds Ryan as he pulls Brendon down onto the love seat beside him.
"We'll skip the third one, it sucks anyway," Ryan says with a shrug.
"What?" Brendon says. "What? Ryan, how can you say that?"
"There's no Jeff Goldblum," Ryan says.
"Spinosaurus," Brendon says, outraged. "Like, what else do I need to say?"
"He does kick the T-Rex's ass," Jon adds.
"Besides, the second one doesn't even have Sam Neill," Brendon says. "You're insane."
"Jeff Goldblum," Ryan snaps, "will always trump Sam Neill."
"I don't even know how to talk to you right now," Brendon says sadly.
"Well," Spencer says loudly. "The good news is, at this rate, we'll only have time for the first one anyway."
Ryan rolls his eyes at Brendon and puts the first movie in, stopping to ruffle Spencer's hair on his way back to the sofa. Spencer smiles up at him and leans his head in to press against Ryan's wrist. Ryan's answering smile is more reassuring than guilty, which is pretty much all Spencer can ask for right now. He settles himself in against the pillows and pulls Brendon close, dropping his head to rest on top of Brendon's as Brendon settles in with his head on Spencer's chest. Ryan pushes play, and Spencer buries his nose in Brendon's hair, breathing him in as the Universal Logo spins on the screen.
They make it through the first movie and the first half of the third movie, after Ryan was outvoted, before Spencer starts to feel it. He's still got at least thirty minutes before the sun sets, but it's already starting, the pull under his skin, the feeling of his bones almost shaking, getting ready to bend and shift into something else. The feeling hasn't gotten any less weird, or less painful, and Spencer wasn't expecting it to be so soon. He must have gotten caught up in the movie, in Brendon's scent, in the reassuring weight of Ryan's eyes flickering over him every few minutes.
The first time he'd changed he'd been alone and completely fucking terrified, and the second time Ryan had tried to stay with him. He'd tried to sit by Spencer in his backyard and hold his hand, but when Spencer saw the look on his face, the way his eyes got wide and scared and he started to smell sick as the bones in Spencer's hand had started to shift and reform, he'd made Ryan leave. Had shouted for him to go until his voice didn't work anymore and kept trying even after his words turned into growls. Ryan didn't leave until Spencer dropped down to all fours, and Spencer's pretty sure he saw Ryan run. He'd been there in the morning when Spencer came home, but he wouldn't meet Spencer's eyes and he'd booked the cabin the very next day.
He's not going through that again, even though Brendon offered, practically begged Spencer to let him be there. He knows Brendon doesn't get it, but he can't stand the thought of-- couldn't bear for Brendon to smell as sick as Ryan had, not even for a second.
Spencer waits for ten more painfully slow minutes before he realizes that ignoring it isn't helping. Even dinosaurs can't save Spencer from the way his heart speeds up and panic starts to seize his chest. His joints are starting to ache, and he gets up without thinking about it, jostling Brendon from where he was resting his head on Spencer's shoulder.
"Um, I have to go. Like, now. See you guys later." Spencer's voice is strangled and rough, and he rushes over to the patio doors without looking back. He feels like such a dick, but he can't-- he can't risk anything.
"Okay, the brave solider act is great, but hold on a fucking second, Spence," Brendon says. Apparently Spencer was too busy freaking out to notice Brendon get up and follow him to the patio.
"I'm running out of time," Spencer says, shuddering a little from the way his bones keep shifting, his skin stretching. He keeps shifting from foot to foot, eager to just run until he's far away.
"Just give me two minutes." Brendon reaches up and cups the back of Spencer's neck, pulling his face down to kiss him. It's hard and open-mouthed, and Spencer has his eyes shut tightly, keeping his hands curled up into fists at his sides because he's afraid that if he grabs onto Brendon, he won't let go.
"Try not to eat any bunnies or girls in red capes," Brendon says, his voice tight and shaky.
Spencer chokes out a laugh against Brendon's mouth, and he does let himself grab at Brendon's hips then, just for a second, holding him tight. "Right. I can't make any promises."
"Just promise you'll come back," Brendon says quietly, his breath warm on Spencer's face, and Spencer stops fidgeting for a moment, his chest suddenly feeling too tight. "I know you're not going to kill us, but don't be stupid and talk yourself into running away for our good or something dumb like that, because I swear I will hunt you down and then kill you."
"I'll try--"
"Promise, dickhead," Brendon says, his voice fierce.
"I promise. Love you," Spencer adds, pressing one more kiss to Brendon's mouth before letting go of him and stepping back. Brendon blinks up at Spencer, and fuck, of course Spencer will come back. He has to.
"Love you too," Brendon says, his voice thick. Spencer watches Brendon's throat bob as he swallows heavily. "Now go be a wolf and shit," Brendon says, brushing Spencer's hair back from his face.
Spencer darts in for one more kiss, and he keeps his eyes closed until he turns away, trying to keep his steps even and measured as he walks down the stairs. His whole body is starting to seize up, pain shooting through him, but Brendon hasn't left yet. He's still standing on the patio and watching Spencer go, so Spencer bites at the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. He wants to run, wants to get to the forest and drop to all fours and scream from the pain until he starts to howl, but he can't. He can't fuck this up, can't fuck Brendon up, so he forces himself to breathe, great, gasping breaths as he forces his feet forward down the trail to the woods, ignoring the pain that spikes up his legs each time he moves.
Spencer almost sobs in relief when he hears the door finally click shut behind him, and he lets out a loud groan as he starts to sprint, racing for the woods even as the bones in his arms start to pop and shift. He's right at the edge of the trees when the sun finally sinks out of sight and his legs start to go, ripping a cry from his throat as he falls to his knees. Spencer forces himself forward on his hands and knees before collapsing back against a tree. He watches as his hands sprout fur, watches as they shift and spread into paws, watches until the pain is too much and he squeezes his eyes shut, throwing his head back and letting out a pained shout that turns into a howl halfway through.
Spencer doesn't actually remember a lot from when he changes. It's mostly overall impressions of things and random snippets that stick out clearly in his mind, like dreams that stay with you for a while. The first time he changed he woke up naked and shivering in the bushes outside the hotel they'd been staying at, with a vivid memory of a Ferris wheel spinning round and round above him while he ate leftover funnel cake from a dumpster. He could still smell the oil they were cooked in days later, and it took almost a week for him to get the carnival music out of his head. The second time he'd changed he remembered more, remembered running until his legs hurt and he couldn't smell the city anymore, remembered the way the sand of the desert felt under his paws and the exact smell of the bobcat he'd run across.
This time Spencer wakes up somewhere warm and soft, and all he's thinking about is Brendon. He can vaguely recall running through the forest, chasing a deer across a stream and stopping to drink, but mostly it's just Brendon, the way he smells and the way he tastes and the way his hand had felt patting sleepily at the top of Spencer's head and scratching at his neck. Which. Oh. Spencer sits up, blinking blearily, and realizes he's curled up around Brendon's feet on the end of the bed. The sunlight is weak where it's filtering in through the blinds. It must still be early, and Brendon is still asleep, curled around a pillow with the covers tossed off to one side of the bed.
Spencer stretches carefully, warily, wincing at the way his shoulders crack and how his skin feels too tight, like it hasn't really settled back in over his bones yet. It's something he's slowly getting to used to, the way it feels after he changes, a bone-deep ache that takes a day or two to go away. Spencer's hungry, starving actually, but he can't bring himself to leave Brendon. Brendon was all he'd really thought about last night, and Spencer starts to remember coming back home, into the house through the screen door Ryan had left open just in case. He remembers the way it scratched across his side when he came in, remembers whining low and pleased in his throat when he'd found the door to his room cracked open. Mostly, though, he remembers how relieved he felt when he nosed at Brendon's hand and Brendon had patted at his head before curling back in on himself and going to sleep, and how he'd curled up at Brendon's feet, his nose pressed against Brendon's ankle as he drifted off to sleep.
"Hey," Brendon says around a yawn, as he cracks his eyes open. He groans a little as he twists and stretches. "You're you again."
"I missed you," Spencer says, his voice hoarse. It always takes a second to get used to talking again. The first time Spencer changed he must have spent most of the night howling, because it took him hours to get his voice back.
"You were here almost all night, Spence," Brendon says, smiling softly at him. "You came back a few hours after sundown."
'I-- oh," Spencer says. It had seemed like longer, seemed like he was away from Brendon for days.
"Can you go back to sleep?" Brendon says, yawning again. "A few more hours, okay, and then I'll make you breakfast."
"Yeah," Spencer says, hesitating a second before turning back to the end of the bed.
"Spencer," Brendon says, sounding amused. "Up here."
"Right," Spencer says, shaking his head. "Right, no, yes."
"C'mere," Brendon says, grinning, and pulls Spencer in against his chest. Spencer hums happily and snuggles into Brendon's chest, rubbing his nose against Brendon's skin. Brendon scratches at the back of his neck, running his fingers through Spencer's hair, and Spencer makes a noise that he intends to be a moan but turns out more like a whine.
"Good boy," Brendon says, laughing softly. "Stay."
"Shut the fuck up," Spencer says, squeezing Brendon around the waist and kissing gently at the center of his chest.
"See?" Brendon says, throwing the covers over them. "All that worrying for nothing. You didn't kill me even a little bit."
Spencer knows Brendon is joking. He knows that, but he still growls low in his throat, shuffling closer to Brendon. His wolf-brain is still pretty firmly engaged, and he squeezes Brendon's hip, tilts his head up until he can press a kiss to Brendon's throat. "No," he says gruffly. "I'd never hurt you, you're mine. I have to keep you safe."
Brendon laughs a little, and Spencer growls, scraping his teeth over Brendon's collarbone. "Mine," he repeats, desperately trying to stop talking. It doesn't quite work though, and when he's done licking over Brendon's collarbone, he says, "You're mine, that's how it works, I picked you."
"Hey," Brendon says, tilting his head back and letting Spencer get at his neck more easily. "Hey, I know. I picked you too, Spence. I'm yours." Spencer's brain translates it as agreement, submission, and he nuzzles into Brendon's neck, licking at his skin.
"Good," Spencer says, sucking hard at the side of Brendon's neck. He feels desperate and overwhelmed, everything in him wanting to be closer to Brendon, like no matter how much he gets it's not enough.
Spencer holds onto him more tightly, wrapping his leg around Brendon's and resting his nose in the hollow of Brendon's throat, his hands running up and down Brendon's sides, his arms, his hips. Brendon shivers under his touch and Spencer leans up, catching the edge of Brendon's mouth in a wet kiss. He shifts until he can get at Brendon properly, kissing him wet and deep and desperate while Brendon pets at his back, his hair, holding Spencer tight against him.
It takes him a few minutes to calm down and for the desperate, urgent feeling under his skin to go away. He pulls away from Brendon's mouth, breathing heavily, and rests his forehead against Brendon's, staring down at him. "I love you," he whispers raggedly, and Brendon pats at the small of his back, pressing forward to kiss Spencer soft and light.
"I love you too," Brendon says softly, turning his head so Spencer can rest his face there. "Now come on," he says after a moment, sliding his fingers through Spencer's hair soothingly. "Let's get some more sleep and then I'll cook you all the bacon in this house."
It doesn't take Brendon any time at all to fall back asleep, and Spencer settles in against him, wrapping himself around Brendon until he's touching as much skin as possible. He's smiling softly to himself as he falls asleep listening to the steady beat of Brendon's heart, the in and out of his breathing.
Spencer wakes up to the smell of bacon. It's strong, and Spencer's pretty sure that has nothing to do with his enhanced werewolf senses, because bacon.
Spencer stretches and sits up, and his heart skips a beat when he realizes that Brendon isn't in their bed. Spencer tries to find his scent in the house, but everything is still bacon. Spencer's considering pressing his nose to the carpet and trailing it until he figures out where Brendon's gone, but then his human brain kicks in and reminds him that, oh yeah, Brendon is probably the one cooking breakfast. Spencer's only a little ashamed that he runs downstairs, his heart still pounding until he gets to the kitchen.
"You left," Spencer says automatically, but already the familiar warmness is starting to spread across his chest at the sight of Brendon, standing shirtless in front of the stove and humming what might be Van Halen.
"I promised you breakfast, didn't I?" Brendon says with a grin, his voice muffled by the sound of bacon sizzling in the pan.
Spencer walks over to the stove, fitting himself behind Brendon and kissing his neck, his bare shoulder. "You're amazing. You made me bacon. Fuck, I love you."
Brendon laughs loudly, kicking his foot back and hitting Spencer in the shin. "Go sit down, asshole, your meat is almost done."
Spencer waits a few seconds and then presses a kiss to Brendon's neck before walking over to the fridge and grabbing the milk. "You know," he says, taking a swig straight from the jug, "I'm a little surprised that you didn't follow that up with a 'that's what she said' joke."
"I know, right? Personal growth! Oh, shit, hold on," Brendon says, turning back to the stove, and Spencer's still smiling to himself when he sits down.
"Dude," Jon says as he wanders in. "You could at least use a glass."
"No time," Spencer says, taking another long drink. "There's still juice."
"Coffee," Jon says. "I need coffee. Glad you didn't kill us last night, dude," Jon says, punching Spencer in the shoulder light as he heads to the coffee maker.
"Right there with you," Spencer says, smiling happily as Brendon sets the first plate of bacon in front of him. "Seriously, you're my favorite person," he says vehemently, and he's too busy shoving bacon into his mouth to stop Jon from swiping a piece.
"No," Spencer says once he's swallowed. "Mine."
"I'm going to make pancakes in a second," Brendon says. "I seriously would not recommend trying to touch Spencer's bacon. There's still time for him to kill us all."
"Not you," Spencer says, grinning at Brendon. "You made me bacon."
"You're so easy." Brendon laughs before turning around to flip the rest of the bacon.
"Dude," Ryan says, skidding into the kitchen. "Dude, bacon."
Spencer growls, hunching over his plate and glaring at Ryan.
"Brendon," Ryan says, imploring. "You were always my favorite."
"I'm not even going to justify that with a response," Brendon says. "This is Spencer's bacon. You're not the one who turned into a wolf last night. Get back to me when you do, and then I'll make you bacon."
"Jon," Ryan says. "Jon, you can make me bacon."
"There is no more bacon," Jon says with a shrug. "All your bacon are belong to Spencer."
"We had two pounds," Ryan says incredulously.
"And it's all delicious," Spencer says, grinning gleefully as Brendon shovels the rest of the bacon onto his plate.
"That's like half a pig," Ryan gripes. "You're going to turn into a were-pig."
"Aww," Jon says, stirring sugar into his cup of coffee. "That'd be adorable. Little were-pig Spencer."
"You're supposed to be on my side," Ryan says, reaching around Jon to steal his cup of coffee. "You deserved this."
Spencer crunches his bacon happily, grabbing Brendon around the waist as he walks by to grab the pancake mix. Brendon yelps as Spencer pulls him into his lap, then grins when Spencer holds up a piece of bacon.
"Unfair," Ryan says as Brendon makes a show of taking a bite. "First waffles, now this. Since when does fucking Spencer come with perks?"
"Don't be bitter, Ryan," Spencer says, tipping his head onto Brendon's shoulder as he eats his last piece of bacon. "Or you can't have any pancakes either."
"Oooh," Ryan says, stopping with his stolen cup of coffee halfway to his mouth. "Pancakes?"
After breakfast, and what ends up being a second breakfast of pancakes, Spencer convinces Brendon to go back up to their room. Both Brendon and Jon waggle their eyebrows at the same time, but Spencer is way too sore from changing to even think about sex right now. Well, he's still going to think about it, but he can definitely wait until he's able to walk up the stairs without groaning before he pounces Brendon again.
"Were you this sore the last times?" Brendon asks, a hint of concern in his voice as his lips brush over Spencer's, and Spencer sighs.
"I just wasn't as whiny about it. Sorry, I can--"
"Hey, wait, no. This is Spencer Day."
"Was two days ago Brendon Day?" Spencer asks with a smirk, and he yelps when Brendon pinches him. Hard.
"I fucking know I wasn't the only one enjoying all that sex. But seriously, get on your stomach, let me help," Brendon says, crawling away from Spencer, and Spencer reluctantly does as Brendon says. He's not sure how he feels about Brendon feeling like he has to do stuff for him, but then again, back rubs.
"Tell me if I'm hurting you," Brendon says softly, kneeling next to Spencer. Spencer listens as Brendon rubs the lotion onto his hands, making sure it's warm before he glides his hands over Spencer's back - wide, glancing brushes of his hands, spreading the lotion on Spencer's skin before he moves back up to Spencer's neck, his fingers digging into the tight muscles there.
Spencer moans.
"That's a good noise, right?" Brendon asks, his hands stilling.
"That is an excellent noise," Spencer says. "Please don't stop."
Brendon drops a kiss to the top of Spencer's head and works his way down to Spencer's shoulders, fingers digging in just right as he works at the knotted-up muscles.
"Damn," Brendon says, "how did you drum like this?"
"It helped, actually," Spencer says. "I mean, it hurt like fucking hell at first, but by the end of the show it wasn't so bad."
"You should have told someone," Brendon says, his voice worried as he smooths the heels of his hands up and down Spencer's spine. "At least Ryan. I know he would have helped."
"Yeah," Spencer says, swallowing nervously. "I try not to bug Ryan with this stuff. He feels bad enough already, and I think I kind of freak him out now."
"Spencer--" Brendon starts, but Spencer cuts him off.
"No, it's fine, it's not some big thing."
"You do realize I can feel you tensing back up, right?" Brendon asks. "Stop lying to me."
"Just--" Spencer starts, before freezing back up.
"Spence," Brendon says, leaning down to lay his head on Spencer's stretched out arms. "You don't have to tell me, but I'm pretty sure you'll feel better if you do. Plus, the more you talk, the more I rub," Brendon says, punctuating his sentence by pulling back and straddling Spencer's thighs. "This okay?" he asks. "I'll be able to reach better."
"It's fine," Spencer says, shifting a little until Brendon's weight is settled more evenly on his thighs. "It feels good, actually."
"Good," Brendon says, leaning forward until he's spread over Spencer's back, his hands kneading at Spencer's shoulders in a way that's making him go loose and boneless. "Now talk."
Surprisingly, Spencer does. He's pretty sure it's because of how relaxing Brendon's hands are, how he's melting further and further into the mattress, or maybe Brendon's just a secret wizard or something. Either way, Spencer is opening his mouth and just kind of putting it all out there.
"That party," he starts, "where it happened?"
"At that pretentious douchebag's house?" Brendon asks.
"Yeah," Spencer says with a wince as Brendon's hands work at a particularly sore muscle. "Zack wouldn't let Ryan go alone and Ryan begged, and I technically still owed him one from like six years ago when he went to a school dance with me. But that school dance was not thrown by some dude named Alasdair who has a pet aardvark."
"No way his name is actually Alasdair," Brendon snorts, digging his thumbs into the sore spot at the small of Spencer's back.
"I think it's Jeff or something. I know Ryan knew him in school. But the point is, that party was a fucking disaster. They were drinking absinthe and talking about the beauty of suffering, and I wanted to punch everyone in the face."
"A completely logical reaction," Brendon says, dropping a kiss on the nape of Spencer's neck as he leans forward to grab some more lotion. "That's why I ditched and Jon pretended to be asleep."
"No shit," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. Ryan had bitched about it the whole way there. "I ended up waiting outside for Ryan because I think I was starting to get a contact douchebag high. Then I heard this dog, like, yelping and--"
"And of course you had to save it," Brendon says with a sigh.
"You would have done the same fucking thing, so don't even," Spencer says. Brendon once climbed a tree in shorts to rescue his neighbor's kitten, and his legs were scraped up for weeks.
"Whatever," Brendon says, rubbing his hands up and down Spencer's arms.
"Anyway, I thought it was just two dogs fighting at first, so I yelled, but the little dog was getting pretty torn up, so I grabbed a rock and tossed it at the bigger one, and, well. The rest is kind of obvious. And embarrassing," Spencer says.
"As far as origin stories go, it's not as dumb as a radioactive spider," Brendon says. "It's kind of heroic, actually."
"I got bit by a werewolf trying to save a dog," Spencer says, rolling his eyes even though Brendon can't see him.
"But you saved the dog," Brendon says, leaning over Spencer's back and kissing at his ear, his cheek, his jaw. "That'll still get you laid."
"I'm not exactly foreseeing any problems with that in the future," Spencer says, lifting his head up just enough to press his mouth to the corner of Brendon's. "The point is," he mumbles as he slumps back down onto the pillow, "Ryan blames himself for dragging me to the party and not wanting to leave. I've tried to tell him like ten times, but you know Ryan."
"Yeah," Brendon says, settling in on Spencer's back and curling his fingers with Spencer's under the pillow. "I think," he says after a minute, "I think it's not so much that he's freaked out by you, as he is freaked out that he did this to you. In his head, anyway, and fuck knows how Ryan's head works. Trust me, though. You're still Spencer, and he's still Ryan, and you two will always be weird as all fuck. Who else is going to put up with either of you?"
"You're doing a decent job," Spencer says sleepily. His muscles are loose and warm, and Brendon's a solid, reassuring weight on his back. Spencer feels like he could sleep for days, just as long as Brendon was here.
"I'm only in it for the sex," Brendon says, kissing at the bit of smooth skin between Spencer's ear and the place on his jaw where his beard starts.
"I knew it," Spencer says, and falls asleep in the time it takes Brendon to answer.