Need You Wild 2/12
Link to full header and warnings - Link to part 1
-
Spencer wakes up to the smell of coffee and burnt toast, and he stretches his arms up until his back cracks, stiff from the weird angle he slept on the couch. At some point Ryan left him, probably to go sleep in his own bed, but Spencer doesn't remember much. Spencer listens to the birds outside and then there's the sound of something dropping on the kitchen floor, and Ryan's groggy "aw, fuck" follows right after. Spencer rolls his eyes, but his mouth is quirked up in a smile.
"You slept down here?" Brendon asks softly, and Spencer startles and twists where he's lying on the couch to face Brendon. Brendon's hair is sticking out a little on one side and he's wearing boxer shorts with pirate flags on them, his arms crossed over his bare chest. Spencer absolutely does not stare at the way Brendon's boner is pressing against the font of his boxers, just watches Brendon's throat bob when he swallows instead. Brendon's looking at him, his eyes groggy but focused in on Spencer's face, and Spencer suddenly feels too warm, feels a little trapped under Brendon's gaze.
There's no point lying, even if Brendon's eyebrows are furrowed together as he stares at Spencer. "Yeah. You're up early."
Brendon shrugs, stepping closer to lean against the couch when he yawns. "I didn't sleep well."
Spencer breathes in without thinking and immediately regrets it. Brendon's scent is strong, strong and thick with sexual frustration that Spencer can nearly taste. He swallows, suddenly very glad for the blanket thrown over his lap.
"I'm gonna." Brendon nods toward the kitchen and Spencer nods back, watching as Brendon walks away, his boxers sliding down low on his hips.
Spencer lets his head fall back on the arm of the couch, running a hand through his hair and trying to figure out the most heterosexual way to convince Brendon it's okay to masturbate, really, and that being turned on all the time would not, in fact, help Spencer deal with this new fixation on the way Brendon smells. He tries not to think about how relieved he is to know that Brendon doesn't hate Spencer for being so fucked up about all this, for the way he acted last night.
When Spencer finally gets up from the couch, he's unbelievably grateful for the smell of burnt toast to focus on, and when he sits down at the table he can almost look Brendon in the eye.
-
Things don't exactly get easier over the next few days, but they do get easier to ignore. Spencer's pretty sure that he's being overtly obvious about his sudden desire to really buckle down in the studio, but no one calls him on it. It's not so bad, when they practice all day and the smell of sweat helps to drown out the smell of Brendon. By the third day of sleeping downstairs and doing everything possible to avoid any one-on-one time with Brendon, though, things are starting to get to him. Brendon's smell is getting stronger and stronger, sexual frustration and arousal and it's like Spencer can't escape it. On the fourth night that Spencer sleeps on the couch, Brendon gets up in the middle of the night and wanders by on his way to the fridge, sleepy and ruffled and scratching idly at his stomach, his cock hard and jutting out in front of him and Spencer nearly bites through the inside of his cheek, trying to stop himself from making a low noise as he breathes Brendon in.
Spencer lies in the dark with his hands clenched at his sides until Brendon heads back upstairs, and listens for Brendon's breathing to even back out before he heads upstairs to Ryan's room. Ryan's kind of a possessive little fucker about his space, and Ryan's room is pretty much the one place in the house Spencer's sure Brendon hasn't been in the past few days.
"Whazzit?" Ryan mumbles when Spencer shuts his door and climbs under the covers.
"I'm sleeping here," Spencer says, kicking Ryan away when he immediately tries to shove his cold feet between Spencer's calves. "Stop that, fucker."
"You're a guest here," Ryan says sleepily, yanking the covers closer.
"Shut up," Spencer says, tugging the covers back over. "Just go to sleep."
Ryan does, almost immediately, and Spencer breathes in deep and sighs in relief at the relatively Brendon-free air. Not that it stops him from thinking about Brendon, sleeping down the hall, about how easy it would be to just slip in and climb into Brendon's bed. Spencer is well aware of how easy it would be to hold him down and bury his face in Brendon's neck, nose down his stomach and to his cock, and holy shit, he is in Ryan's bed right now. Spencer clenches his jaw and keeps his hands over the covers and falls asleep reminding himself over and over that he's not a horny teenager anymore and jerking off in Ryan's bed is not okay.
-
The whole not being a horny teenager thing isn't nearly as convincing when Spencer wakes up with a gasp, his boxers sticky and Ryan staring down at him with big eyes.
"Good morning," Ryan says in his usual monotone, and Spencer drops his head back down to his pillow, laughing just a little at how ridiculous the situation is. His cock is still hard and throbbing between his legs, like he hasn't come yet, and he can still taste Brendon's skin under his tongue, still feel Brendon's wrists flexing under his hands.
"I made breakfast," Ryan says. "Did you just have a wet dream?"
Spencer reaches up and pushes his hair out of his face, glaring up at Ryan. "You cooked again? Because we talked about this."
"I made cereal," he says with a shrug. "Is it a werewolf thing? Having wet dreams?"
"Get the fuck out," Spencer says, closing his eyes and groaning.
"It's my room," Ryan says, but he just sounds amused, and Ryan's smiling when Spencer slits his eyes open and watches Ryan leave.
-
Ryan's pretty insistent on trying to lay down a demo, and Spencer can tell it's not going to work the second he steps into the studio. Brendon's been in there for about an hour, setting levels and setting up his keyboard, and holy shit, the way Brendon smells. It's worse, so much worse than it's ever been before, and Spencer's been holding back for so long that he just kind of snaps, his wolf brain engaging and forcing him forward. He stalks over to Brendon, pressing up close and crowding Brendon against the wall without even meaning to, pressing close and breathing him in. Brendon goes still, absolutely still, and tips his head back, baring the side of his neck. Spencer lets out a low, rough noise of approval and moves forward, his hand reaching out for Brendon's waist, reaching to hold him in place and keep him there before he hears Jon and Ryan in the hall and somehow manages enough presence of mind to spring back guiltily. Spencer looks at Brendon helplessly, his entire body shaking with the effort of holding back, his nostrils still flaring as he breathes Brendon in. Brendon's pressed against the wall, his eyes wide and his face flushed. His hips are tilted forward and Spencer can see his cock pressing against the front of his sweatpants, can smell him, how frustrated he is.
The only thing that stops him from falling to his knees and burying his face in Brendon's lap is Ryan and Jon, who walk in arguing loudly about the bass line for the song they're trying to demo. When they see how Spencer has Brendon crowded into the wall, however, they shut up almost at once.
Spencer steps back and stalks over to his kit, and even though he doesn't look back, he can hear that it takes Brendon a few more seconds before he moves away from the wall.
"Right, that wasn't weird or anything," Ryan says loudly, leaning down to pick up his guitar and plug it into the amp. Jon gives Spencer a pointed look, but Spencer ignores him. He doesn't even know what just happened, how is he supposed to have an excuse for it? Spencer swears to himself when he drops one of his drumsticks, picking it up and clenching his jaw in frustration. He has to get this under control. No matter how fucking horny Brendon is, Spencer can't keep pushing him into walls, getting closer and closer to doing something he's really, really going to regret.
They make it halfway through the first take before Brendon fumbles a line and curses loudly, smacking at his mic stand. "Fuck," he says again, stalking through the door to reset the soundboard.
Spencer breaks a stick during the second take because he's drumming too hard, Brendon's voice cracks on the third, and when Brendon breaks a string on the fourth he tosses his guitar to the floor and kicks at it, sending it skidding across the studio.
"Fuck this," Ryan says, setting is guitar pointedly on the wall rack. "I'm done."
Spencer clenches his hands around his sticks as he watches Ryan stomp out, and Jon turns and looks warily between Spencer and Brendon.
"Look," he says. "I tried to stay out of this, both of us did, but clearly you two aren't working it out on your own. So, you know, do that. Please. And don't kill each other in the process, preferably."
Spencer stares down at his hands as Jon leaves and continues to stare even when he hears Brendon moving toward him. He's honestly not expecting it when Brendon grabs at the collar of his shirt and pulls, and Spencer flails his hands out as he scrambles to his feet to avoid falling ass-first off his drum throne.
"Brendon, the fuck," he says, trying his best to ignore how being pissed off apparently makes Brendon smell even better.
"No," Brendon says, stalking forward angrily. "Uh uh, you don't get to ask the fuck, I get to ask the fuck, and seriously, Spencer, the fuck." Brendon's panting a little, and he also has Spencer backed literally into a corner. "Why the fuck won't you even look at me? You're completely ignoring me, you won't even sleep in the same room as me, and then all of a sudden after a week of ignoring me you practically molest me?"
"It wasn't a week," Spencer mumbles, still trying to avoid Brendon's eyes.
"Spencer," Brendon says, pushing even closer. "Look at me." Brendon's standing so close that Spencer can feel the heat from his body, smell his sweat and his arousal and his anger, and Spencer can't-- he can't be this close to Brendon right now, not when he's still keyed up and on edge from earlier.
"You need to move," Spencer says, wincing a little at how rough his voice comes out.
"No, fuck you," Brendon says, pressing even closer until Spencer can feel where he's hard, where his whole body is trembling almost imperceptibly.
"You need to move," Spencer repeats desperately, clenching his fists at his sides, "before I end up hurting you again."
"You didn't hurt me," Brendon says, bringing a hand up slowly to rest on Spencer's chest. "I'm fine." Spencer breathes in shallowly, trying to avoid taking in too much of Brendon's scent so he doesn't get lightheaded and dizzy with it, doesn't lose his head and fuck up again.
"What if I want to?" Spencer asks, still breathing shallowly in a last-ditch attempt to keep some semblance of control.
"I don't think hurting me is what you want, Spence," Brendon says softly before wrapping his arms around Spencer's neck and pressing close. Brendon buries his face in Spencer's neck and Spencer can feel where he's still shaking, how his arousal flares up even more once he's pressed close to Spencer. Spencer closes his eyes and gives in, just for a second, pushing his nose to the skin below Brendon's ear and breathing in deep. He exhales shakily and he's reaching up for Brendon's waist before he catches himself, going rigid and pulling back as much as he can.
"Brendon, no," Spencer says, a little desperately. "No, you've got to let go, I can't be close to you like this."
"Yes you can," Brendon almost shouts, pulling back and staring Spencer in the eye. "You can, because I want you to, you fucking idiot. I haven't exactly been subtle about this, Spencer."
"I can't," Spencer says again, his voice almost a whine. "You don't know what it's like, Brendon, how you smell, what it makes me-- I'm going to hurt you, I can't help it."
"Spencer," Brendon says in the tone he usually reserves for explaining the finer points of not being an asshole to Ryan. "Did it ever once occur to you that maybe if you'd stop fighting it, it would stop feeling like something you had to control?"
"You don't-- I can't--" Spencer says, and he has apparently forgotten words at this point. Brendon doesn't know what it's like, he can't know what it's like. The first time Spencer got angry after he was changed - like, really pissed off and not just annoyed - he had torn his bedroom door off the hinges in an effort to slam it. He's had to completely relearn his limits so he doesn't accidentally crack someone's ribs when he hugs them, and that's nothing compared to what he could do to Brendon, or what he wants to do to Brendon, even, if he really lets himself think about it.
"I do," Brendon says, pressing in closer again. "And you can."
"No, you don't," Spencer growls. "You don't have any fucking idea what could happen if I lose control. Brendon, I could-- what if I grab you too hard and fucking crack your ribs? I could do it. I could do it without even meaning to because I can't even think when I'm around you. I want to just grab you and hold you down and--"
"Spencer," Brendon says, cutting him off, his voice low and concerned. "Spencer, you're so careful all the time, why would this be any different?"
"Because I want," Spencer says, his voice raw. He wants to say more, to explain it so Brendon will get it, but he can't find the words. "We shouldn't," Spencer tries. "Is this even what you want? Have you thought about--"
"Spencer, for fuck's sake, why do you think I wanted to share a room here? Why do you think we always share hotel rooms?"
"Because Jon and Ryan snore," Spencer answers helplessly.
"Spencer, you snore," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "This isn't exactly new, and you being a werewolf doesn't change anything. Fuck, Spencer, I haven't jerked off in over a week, not since you told me you could smell it. I was hoping you would maybe take the hint."
"Take the hint," Spencer says incredulously. "Brendon, you've been fucking torturing me."
"You try not jerking off for a week. It hasn't exactly been a picnic for me either," Brendon says, his eyes flashing. "Now seriously, Spencer, I want this. Either you do too or you've got to be straight with me and stop avoiding me, because it's kind of starting to hurt my delicate feelings." Brendon's grinning by the end of it, pressing even closer like he knows what the answer's going to be.
"It's not safe, Brendon," Spencer says. "I'm going to hurt you, even if I don't want to--"
Brendon cuts him off by kissing him, licking at Spencer's lips and pressing forward until he's straddling Spencer's thigh, rocking his hips forward in small, jerky movements. This is a bad idea, a terrible, dangerous idea, but Spencer's been waiting to do this for so long that he can't help it, he has to. He finally unclenches his fists and presses his hands to the small of Brendon's back, holding him there, pressing him closer. Brendon's arousal spikes hot and sudden when Spencer touches him, and Spencer groans against Brendon's lips before tearing his mouth away to kiss down Brendon's jaw, under his chin, down his throat until he has his nose pressed to the hollow of Brendon's throat, breathing him in. He smells incredible, warm and sweet and heavy, and Spencer presses closer, licking at Brendon's neck where he's beginning to sweat a little. Brendon groans and rolls his hips, moving against Spencer's thigh more frantically and clutching desperately at Spencer's shoulders.
Spencer's so caught up in finally getting to touch Brendon that it takes him a minute to realize how close Brendon is, how sharp the smell is now, the way Brendon's thighs are trembling where they're pressed around Spencer's. Spencer grabs Brendon by the waist and picks him up as gently as possible, setting him down far enough away that Spencer can squeeze out from between Brendon's body and the wall.
"You have got to be fucking with me," Brendon says, his eyes dark and wide, breath coming in harsh pants.
"You cannot do that right now," Spencer says, slowly making his way toward the door as Brendon stares at him. "I mean, you can if you want, but I can't be here, not yet."
"I hate you," Brendon says, slumping back against the wall. "I take it all back, I hate you, you're an asshole."
"I'm sorry," Spencer says, his head spinning a little from how turned on he is, how strong Brendon's smell is. "I've got to--"
"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says weakly. "I know. But I swear to god if you sleep on the couch tonight I'm going to jerk off over you while you sleep."
Spencer growls a little, low in his throat, and Brendon's eyes get even wider, dark and considering. "Yeah?"
"No," Spencer says, mortified and still so, so turned on. "No." He tries to sound stern as he backs out of the door, but he's pretty sure he mostly just sounds embarrassed, if Brendon's smirk is anything to go by.
Spencer holds his breath until he can get to the downstairs bathroom, thankful that Jon and Ryan are nowhere in sight, and he barely gets his hand down his pants before he's coming, hot and wet over his fist. It doesn't even feel like a relief, and Spencer leans his head forward against the door and keeps stroking. He comes twice in under five minutes, and only stops when he hears the front door of the cabin open. His cock is still hard when he tucks it under the waistband of his underwear, and Spencer ignores Jon and Ryan's curious looks when he hurries out of the bathroom and out the front door, walking until the trees are all he can smell when he breathes deep.
Spencer is so in over his head with this. He's turned on and terrified and he can still taste Brendon, still smell him, and all he wants to do is turn back around and march back inside, grab Brendon, and drag him up the stairs. The problem is, he knows Brendon would be completely on board with that plan. What Brendon should do is tell him to fuck off so that Spencer can just spend the rest of his life pining hopelessly - and going slowly insane. But of course Brendon has to go and make things complicated by being insane and apparently completely unconcerned for his own safety. Spencer leans heavily against the nearest tree, closing his eyes and breathing in deep until his heart stops pounding in his ears.
-
When Spencer makes his way back inside, Jon, Ryan, and Brendon are all gathered around the TV with pizza boxes spread out between them.
"Brendon said things were okay now, so I decided to feed you," Ryan says. "I even defended your meat from Jon."
Brendon laughs, obnoxiously loud. "Defended your meat from Jon," he says gleefully.
"Oh my god," Spencer groans, walking forward and grabbing the unopened pizza box before sinking the floor, strategically keeping himself away from Brendon for the time being.
"Whatever," Jon says around a mouthful of pepperoni. "Who knew a pizza made entirely of meat could be so good?"
"There's cheese," Spencer says defensively, grabbing a slice. "And the crust. The crust isn't meat."
"But if they made a pizza with meat crust, you'd eat it, wouldn't you?" Jon asks curiously.
"Dude," Ryan says. "Dude, like. Pizza on top of a steak instead of dough. That's amazing. And disgusting. But amazing."
"You totally smoked up without me, didn't you?" Spencer says, looking around the room.
"Just a little," Brendon replies, his eyes wide and shining. His hair is all messed up and he has tomato sauce at the corner of his mouth, and Spencer swallows his bite of pizza and forces himself to keep his eyes on Jon and Ryan as they discuss the finer points of porkchop pizza. Which actually does sound sort of good, if Spencer is being honest with himself.
-
Brendon hauls himself up from the floor relatively early, saying he's tired, and Spencer does his best to ignore the pointed look Brendon throws him on his way up the stairs. Any illusions he had that things would be easier now go out the window a few minutes later, when he gets distracted from the conversation by a faint groan. And. Son of a bitch. Spencer tries - valiantly, he thinks - to ignore the sound and the smell of Brendon jerking off upstairs as he watches the end of the movie Jon picked, something about a killer with a giant knife and an endless string of bad catch phrases.
He makes it all of five minutes before he stands up and says good night over the sound of the gruesome murder on the screen. When he walks into his room, Brendon is spread out on top his bed, his briefs crooked on his hips and an entirely self-satisfied look on his face. Also, the entire room smells like come.
"That was mean," Spencer says, hovering in the doorway.
"That was necessary," Brendon says, patting the bed next to him. "I was trying to be nice."
"You failed epically," Spencer says, going to sit beside Brendon reluctantly. "Hey, seriously, we can't-- slow, okay? I don't want to fuck things up by violently murdering you or anything, so. Slow."
"You're such a sweet talker," Brendon says, leaning in and kissing Spencer softly. Spencer has things mostly under control until Brendon brings his hand up to tangle in Spencer's hair, and Spencer's hit with the sudden smell of Brendon's come, and jesus, fuck, son of a bitch. Spencer groans and pulls away, turning his face to nuzzle into Brendon's palm.
"What are-- oh," Brendon says after a moment. "Seriously?"
"I told you how good you smell," Spencer whines, and he can't help it, not with his mouth already so close to Brendon's hand, the smell of Brendon's come. He leans up and licks over Brendon's palm, between his fingers, sucking on the webbing between Brendon's thumb and pointer finger where the taste is strongest.
Brendon gasps, his hips jerking, and Spencer pulls back at the sudden flare in Brendon's scent, and-- no, no. He cannot do this right now. Spencer scrambles to his feet and ignores Brendon's confused noise, heading for the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower," Spencer says from the doorway, still breathing heavily. "I'm going to take a shower, and you're going to go to sleep, and then I'm going to go to sleep."
"I think you meant you're going to jerk off in the shower, and I am going to come and watch you jerk off in the shower, and then we are going to go to sleep?" Brendon asks hopefully.
"Only part of that is true," Spencer says as he closes the door.
-
They head back to the studio the next day for a second try at recording the demo, and things go significantly better. Spencer feels more relaxed, Brendon isn't as wound up, and now the only problem is Ryan and Jon, and how they keep looking nervously between the two of them, like they're waiting for something to go wrong.
"What?" Spencer finally snaps after their third run-through. "What is the issue?"
"Nothing!" Jon says entirely too quickly. "We were just. You know. Looking?" he trails off.
"It's fine," Spencer says sternly.
"Yes," Ryan replies. "Yes, I can see that you're happier than you've ever been."
Brendon snorts quietly before heading over to Spencer and wrapping his arms around Spencer's shoulders. "Look," he says. "Look, we're total BFFs again. We have a double's bike ride planned for this afternoon, and tomorrow we're going to visit the farmers' market!"
Spencer rolls his eyes and shrugs Brendon off his shoulders, grinning a little to himself when Brendon squeezes before he lets go. "Can we record now?" Spencer asks.
"Wait," Ryan says. "Was that farmers' market thing a joke? Because I want apples."
-
Recording goes kind of awesomely. They lay down something passable in three takes, and Ryan scurries off to email Pete a few minutes after Jon wanders off on the phone with Cassie. Spencer feels pretty good about things, and he starts running through some practice rolls on his kit while Brendon rearranges the guitars on the rack.
He gets kind of into it, and starts pushing the tempo until he's just playing one of the beats he came up with a few days ago. It's fast and complicated, and Spencer totally loses himself in it until he feels Brendon's hand on his shoulder. Spencer startles a little, one of his drumsticks flying out of his hand and hitting the wall. Brendon and Spencer wince.
"Oops."
"Right, well, this had better be good," Spencer says, turning away from his kit and toward Brendon. Brendon's grinning, and Spencer isn't sure why until Brendon settles down into Spencer's lap, his knees thrown over Spencer's thighs, straddling him. Spencer makes a startled noise and grabs onto Brendon's hips before Brendon falls to the floor, loosening his grip as soon as he knows Brendon's secure on his lap.
"Um," Spencer says, and he immediately regrets it when he breathes in and is hit by a fresh wave of Brendon's scent, thick and warm around him.
"I've actually been wanting to do this for a while, so just shut up for a minute and let me have my moment."
"I'm going to drop you," Spencer says faintly, watching the way Brendon's throat bobs when he swallows.
Brendon just grins at him and says, "No, you're not," as he leans in to kiss Spencer.
Brendon's t-shirt has ridden up a little, and when Spencer squeezes carefully at Brendon's hips there's so much skin, skin and Brendon kissing him slowly, the smell of his arousal growing steadily in the air around them. Spencer squeezes again, enjoying the way Brendon shifts forward a little when he does it. This is so not a good idea, and Spencer should be getting up and walking away, but then Brendon's opening his mouth and Spencer can't help kissing deeper. It's overwhelming and it's dangerous and Spencer is fucking intoxicated by all of it.
"Fuck, Spencer," Brendon groans, shifting forward in Spencer's lap, trying to press the hard line of his cock against Spencer's. Spencer growls low in his throat, his mouth moving down to Brendon's jaw, sucking at a spot under Brendon's ear. The smell of arousal spikes, and Spencer squeezes Brendon's hips again, just a little tighter, as he sucks harder at Brendon's skin, the sound of Brendon's moans and rough panting filling his ears.
"Let's just-- c'mon, Spence, can we please. I want you," Brendon whines, leaning heavily into Spencer, tilting his head so his neck is bared for Spencer's mouth.
Spencer doesn't want to stop. He really, really fucking does not want to stop, but he knows he's close to coming and he knows that if they go that far he won't be able to stop if Brendon asks again.
"You are such a fucking cocktease," Spencer groans, pulling back and kissing Brendon hard on the mouth, lips sliding together. He picks Brendon up and moves him out of his lap as he stands up.
"I'm. What?" Brendon's lips are red and his t-shirt is still stuck right above the strip of belly before his jeans, and Spencer wants to go jerk off forever. "You're calling me a cocktease? Seriously?"
"You," Spencer says, reaching out in spite of his common sense and running his hand over Brendon's exposed stomach, "are teasing my cock. Ergo."
"Please take stock of this situation and then call me a cocktease again," Brendon says, pushing his hips forward into Spencer's hand.
"Fuck," Spencer says, dropping his hand quickly. "I'm sorry, just, not yet."
"See?" Brendon says, heading toward the door of the studio. "Cock. Tease."
Brendon's been gone for about two seconds before Spencer shoves his hand down his shorts, but then something occurs to him and he stops himself, staring at the half-open door.
"Brendon," Spencer calls after him. "Brendon, please do not jerk off in our bedroom!"
-
Brendon jerks off in their bedroom. Spencer can smell it when he walks in later to change his boxers, and he groans, letting his head fall heavily against the wall once he's changed.
"Oh hey," Brendon says, sticking his head out of the bathroom. "Jon and Ryan are making a campfire. I just took a shower because of how I jerked off all over myself."
"I really hate you," Spencer says.
"I could have not showered," Brendon says with a grin. "That would have been meaner. Now come here."
"Jon and Ryan are building a fire. Like, in the wilderness. I have to supervise," Spencer says.
"Cock. Tease," Brendon calls at his retreating back. "And also make sure they don't eat all the marshmallows before I get there. And don't you eat them all either. I know you can hear me."
-
"That has never worked," Ryan's saying when Spencer heads out to the backyard. "I've seen you try this like six times. It's never worked."
"I did it once. I told you I did it once. I got a badge," Jon says, furiously rubbing two sticks together.
"We believe you," Spencer says, walking over and taking the sticks away from Jon. "You've told us several times that your mom has pictures. Why don't we just use some newspaper and matches since we're not actually stuck in the wilderness and I'd prefer that none of us died."
"But if we were," Jon says, "I could totally make us a fire."
"It's okay, Jon," Ryan says seriously. "We know how awesome you are."
"Voila," Spencer says, stepping away and grabbing a paper plate to fan at the glowing embers. "We have fire. Ryan, don't step in it." He can distantly smell Brendon over the smoke. He must be coming outside.
"That was once," Ryan says with a groan, falling back onto a lawn chair. "I was eight. Let it go."
"Is that why your feet look so weird?" Jon asks.
"What?" Ryan says. "What's wrong with my feet?"
"They have finger-toes," Jon says. "Like, it's neat, but then sometimes they make me nervous."
"You smoke way too much weed," Brendon says, walking up to the campfire.
"Agreed," Ryan says. "My feet are fine."
"Your feet are totally weird looking, but Jon's still a paranoid motherfucker," Brendon says, falling down into one of the deck chairs they'd dragged outside. "Now, Spencer, prepare me a s'more. Bonus points if you burn the marshmallow and then feed it to me."
Spencer hears him, and he rolls his eyes, but he's mostly staring out into the forest, because seriously, holy shit, it's like a Disney movie out there. There's a deer and three rabbits and some squirrels and at least four raccoons all within a mile radius of their campfire. Spencer can't smell anything dangerous, no coyotes or bears or mountain lions or anything, but it's still a little troubling to be surrounded by wildlife. Spencer grew up in the suburbs. He mostly likes dogs.
"Dude," Ryan says. "Why are you sniffing?"
"Huh?" Spencer asks, whipping his head around. "Oh. Just. There's... animals. And stuff."
"Holy shit," Jon says, laughing. "Oh my god, this is priceless, are you seriously daydreaming about chasing rabbits right now?"
"No, fuck you," Spencer snaps, because he maybe was. Just a little.
"Do you think you could catch me a squirrel?" Ryan asks. "I always felt like squirrels would understand me."
"I don't even know how to respond to that," Spencer says.
"I wouldn't mind a bunny," Brendon adds. "One with the floppy ears."
"You're all assholes," Spencer says.
"Hey," Jon says, sounding affronted. "I didn't ask for anything. Because I want a mountain lion but I know that would be dangerous."
"Congratulations," Spencer says dryly. "It's refreshing that you're so rational."
"There's nothing irrational about a pet bunny," Brendon grumbles, walking over to the picnic table to grab some marshmallows and the fancy and unnecessary marshmallow roasting sticks they got at the store.
"You're right," Spencer says, getting up and reaching around Brendon to grab a stick. Brendon still smells a little turned on, a little like come, and Spencer presses closer to him without thinking about it, dropping his head to sniff behind Brendon's ear. He doesn't realize what he's doing until Brendon shivers, pressing back into Spencer a little, solid and warm, and only then does Spencer's head jerk up. "Totally rational and totally delicious," Spencer says into Brendon's ear, and Brendon groans.
"Now who's the asshole," Brendon says, walking back over to the campfire. He crouches down in front of the fire, holding the end of the stick near the burning orange embers at the center of the logs. Spencer's a little surprised - usually Brendon just waves his marshmallows over the top until they catch fire. He's only a little weirded out with himself that he knows Brendon's s'mores-making habits.
Spencer stops watching Brendon and walks back to the campfire just to catch Ryan in the process of picking his s'more apart to eat it, getting gooey marshmallow all over his fingers. Spencer doesn't find it weird at all that he knows how Ryan eats s'mores. They had their share of sleepovers and playing with fire as kids, so Spencer has become very familiar with Ryan's weird habits over the years. Like meticulously roasting a marshmallow to perfection, using an exact amount of a chocolate bar, and then picking the whole thing apart to eat it after all the effort of putting it together.
"What if," Ryan says as he wipes his sticky hands on Jon's jeans once he's done eating the s'more, "we have a mountain lion in the musical. It can be, like, a foil for the wolf. They can be enemies."
"Oh god," Spencer says.
"As long as you don't kill it, Ryan," Jon says, pushing Ryan's hands away. "I mean it. Don't kill the kitty."
"It's a lion, Jon," Ryan says. "A warrior."
"Are you guys sure you didn't smoke up?" Brendon asks. "I don't want to sing about ninja cats."
"Ninja cats," Jon says contemplatively. "That actually sounds fully awesome. We should write a musical about ninja cats."
"No," Spencer says automatically. "This is how we ended up with a wolf musical. I will not stand for this."
"As awesome as ninja cats probably are, I really don't want to sing about them," Brendon repeats, standing up to go assemble his s'more.
They each make a few more s'mores before the chocolate runs out, and then Spencer makes a few hot dogs, much to the amusement of everyone else. Spencer almost forgets he's supposed to be behaving around Brendon when he looks over and Brendon is licking marshmallow and chocolate off his fingers, though. Spencer watches Brendon suck his sticky fingers past his lips and instantly something hot unfurls low in his stomach, hot and possessive and wanting. Brendon catches Spencer's gaze, grinning as he finishes cleaning off his fingers. He has to be aware of what shit like that does to Spencer, and seriously, he is such a fucking tease.
"What should we do now?" Ryan says, swatting at a bug on his arm. "The food's gone."
"We could enjoy the majestic beauty of nature," Spencer says, tearing his eyes away from Brendon.
"Or," Jon says, "we could get high."
"Around an open fire? While Ryan exists?" Spencer asks. "Uh uh. No."
"I could get high," Jon says sadly. "Can I get high?"
"That's not fair," Ryan says immediately. "Maybe we should sing campfire songs."
"Do you know any campfire songs?" Spencer asks, because he knows for a fact that Ryan does not.
"I know that they exist," Ryan says.
"All the ones I know are about God," Brendon pipes up. "And one really dirty one I learned on a scout retreat."
"Your life is strange," Spencer tells him, because, seriously.
"That is an awesome idea," Jon says excitedly. "Let's write a dirty campfire song. Like, the dirtiest campfire song ever."
"Or we could go inside," Spencer says. The raccoons keep moving closer to them, probably after the leftover bits of food. It's making him a little nervous.
"No, wait," Ryan says. "Wait, I've got this, what rhymes with ejaculate?"
"Exterminate," Brendon says immediately in his best Dalek voice. "Also, exfoliate. Procreate. Inseminate?"
"Inseminate!" Ryan says excitedly. "That'll work."
"That's it," Spencer says. "I'm out. If you guys get high and someone dies, I don't want to hear about it."
"What about alleviate?" Jon asks. "That could work too."
Spencer ignores them all, and he's halfway to the house when he hears Brendon make a flimsy excuse about bugs and start heading his way. Spencer slows his steps down, grinning a little to himself when he hears Brendon start to jog toward him, trying to catch up.
"Not up for writing songs about come?" Spencer asks when Brendon rounds the corner. Brendon stops short, skidding kind of hilariously.
"You know Ryan. It would have just turned into a struggle for artistic control," Brendon says, falling into step beside Spencer as they head toward the cabin. "I'm up for other stuff, though," Brendon says around a yawn.
"Yes, that was very convincing," Spencer says. Brendon stops in front of the door and turns toward him, pressing his face to the middle of Spencer's chest. Spencer can tell Brendon's still turned on, but he's also pretty obviously tired, and Spencer has to shuffle him inside when he reaches around Brendon to open the door.
Spencer's still a little concerned that Ryan and Jon are going to fall in the fire and die a horrible, fiery death, but they'll probably come in once the raccoons lurking at the edge of the woods decide to come and join their campfire. Maybe it was just a little bit mean Spencer didn't tell them about the raccoons. Ryan has never trusted raccoons, because they have people hands.
"Okay, so, hey, you know how you have super werewolf strength that you're scared you'll use to accidentally kill me?" Brendon asks when they get inside and Spencer leads him toward the stairs.
"Nope, I've forgotten all about that," Spencer says. "Thanks so much for reminding me."
"That's not what I meant." Brendon sticks his bottom lip out at Spencer, and Spencer feels something hot coil in his stomach. He's so gone.
"C'mon," Spencer says, heading toward the stairs. "We can argue upstairs. While I'm asleep."
"Aw, Spence, hey," Brendon says, grabbing at the back of his shirt. "My point was that instead of worrying about using your super strength for murder, you can start using it for good! Good meaning you should carry me up the stairs. Please?" Brendon's only had a few beers, so he can't be that drunk, but he does sound tired. Spencer groans. He really doesn't know if he can take Brendon pressed all against him right now.
"No. It's like twelve steps. I have faith that you can make it."
Brendon reluctantly follows Spencer as he starts up the stairs. "I'm not even that heavy! I've lost, like, 5 pounds."
Spencer stops in the middle of the staircase, turning to look down at Brendon. "Wait, really? Why? What the fuck are you losing weight for?"
Brendon shrugs. "It's just all the hiking we've been doing, I guess."
"That's not--" Spencer pauses, feeling more than a little ridiculous at how much this is upsetting him. "You don't need to lose weight, Brendon. You weigh like ten pounds. Fuck." Spencer already has all these insane ideas about feeding Brendon until he gains the weight back and he's starting to freak himself out.
"So you'll carry me, then?"
"No," Spencer says shortly, starting back up the stairs.
"Not even if I beg?"
Spencer has to take a deep breath, and he almost groans at the faint scent of arousal that's coming from Brendon. "No. Also, fuck you."
There's the sound of soft footsteps coming up behind Spencer, and then Brendon's launching himself at Spencer's back, grabbing at his shoulders. Spencer leans forward to steady himself, reaching back instinctively to grab at Brendon's thighs, making sure to keep his grip steady without being too tight. It takes him a minute before he starts climbing again, way too aware of the way Brendon's pressed all along his back, warm and heavy and tired.
"That's cheating. You're an asshole."
"Uh huh," Brendon says, yawning into the back of Spencer's neck. Spencer's fingers grip Brendon's legs just a little tighter, holding on as he heads for their room. Luckily the door isn't shut all the way, so Spencer kicks it open and carries Brendon inside, sitting down slowly on top of Brendon's mattress.
"Bedtime," Spencer says softly, closing his eyes to take a minute to memorize the way Brendon feels, all warm and solid, pressed against Spencer's back. Spencer shifts on the bed after a minute, trying to get Brendon to let go, but Brendon just clings tighter and nuzzles his face into Spencer's neck. Brendon smells warm and sleepy and perfect, like wood smoke and faint arousal. Spencer shudders at the touch of Brendon's lips to the back of his neck and says, "Hey, Brendon. Come on."
"Just stay," Brendon murmurs, voice thick with sleep, and Spencer's pulse speeds up at the idea of it, of curling up around Brendon and holding him all night, smelling him and listening to his heartbeat. "Please."
"I can't. I'm sorry, I just." Spencer stands up and Brendon reluctantly lets go, collapsing on his bed.
"When I die in my sleep from hunger, you'll be sorry we didn't spend these last precious moments together," Brendon says sleepily, burrowing his face into his pillow.
"I'll be real torn up," Spencer says, ignoring the sudden surge of anger he feels even at the joking prospect of Brendon dying. "Go to sleep," he says, leaning down and kissing Brendon softly. Brendon makes a happy, rumbly noise against Spencer's lips, and by the time Spencer's pulled off his pants and climbed under the covers of his own bed, he can already hear Brendon's slow, even breathing.
-
Spencer wakes up the next morning, looks over at Brendon, then heads downstairs to make waffles. He is completely and totally crazy, but it's kind of worth it when Brendon stumbles downstairs at the first smell of bacon and looks at Spencer with wide eyes.
"You are so insane," Brendon says around a yawn.
"Shut up, maybe I wanted waffles," Spencer says, turning around to face the waffle iron so Brendon won't see him blush.
"Did you?" Brendon asks, pressing in close against Spencer's back and kissing under his ear.
"I wanted bacon," Spencer says. He kind of wants to shiver and he definitely wants to turn around and stick his face in Brendon's neck and get a deeper smell. It's not that Spencer's not fond of it, but the wolf part of him seems to really, really enjoy Brendon first thing in the morning, when he smells like sweat and faded soap.
Spencer's saved from having to make a decision one way or the other when Jon comes shuffling down the stairs heavily. "Dude," he says as he walks into the kitchen about a second after Brendon's detached himself from Spencer's back. "Dude, if that is bacon I will fuck your mother."
"I don't see how that is possibly supposed to encourage me to give you any of my bacon," Spencer says.
"I love you so much, dude," Jon says gravely, dropping a hand on Spencer's shoulder and looking at him very seriously, "that I want to be your dad."
"There's something wrong with you," Spencer says, reaching for a piece of bacon and eating in front of Jon just to be a dick. "Like, seriously wrong."
Jon just shrugs and nabs a piece of bacon off the plate. Ryan shows up about five minutes after the coffee is done and Spencer is handing out waffles, falling heavily into a chair and pushing his plate forward before dropping his head back down to his arms. "Five," he says into the tabletop. "Five waffles."
Spencer gives Brendon five and everyone else three, and he's pretty sure he's going to get away with it when Brendon just gives him a smile that's half amused and half genuinely happy. Then Ryan notices.
"Wait," he says. "Wait, what the fuck."
"Brendon's skinny," Spencer says, staring at his own plate.
"I'm skinny," Ryan says, sounding affronted. "I'm way skinnier than Brendon, fuck you."
"You're welcome," Spencer says, looking at Ryan pointedly. "It was no trouble at all, so glad you're enjoying your waffles."
"This is bullshit," Ryan says, reaching over and grabbing bacon from Spencer's plate. It's only because he has known Ryan for a very long time and he would probably feel pretty bad about it later that he doesn't kill Ryan.
"I'm telling your mother next time she calls," Ryan says.
"Hey speaking of, I wouldn't mind talking to your mom next time she calls," Jon says, waggling his eyebrows. "I think we have some stuff to work out."
"Wait, what?" Ryan asks.
"Fuck you," Spencer says, grabbing a waffle from Jon's plate, licking it, and sticking it on top of Ryan's pile.
"Dude," Jon says, when Ryan happily digs in. "You guys are way too close."
Spencer just rolls his eyes and tries to hide his smile around a bite of waffle when Brendon kicks his foot under the table.
-
Spencer has laid down some very strict rules about where Brendon is not allowed to initiate making out, and their bedroom is numbers one, two, and three on that list. He had to get pretty specific. Brendon's still pretty shit at following the rules, but Spencer can't actually blame him for taking the opportunity to straddle Spencer on the couch when Ryan and Jon go into town for groceries.
"So," Brendon says, looking down at him. "We are not in our bedroom. Not even a little."
"That's true," Spencer says, settling his hands on Brendon's hips. He's not actually in the mood to put up a fight right now, not when Brendon's been vaguely turned on all day.
Brendon grins and leans down, kissing at Spencer's bottom lip and shifting closer, wiggling in Spencer's lap until he's settled in and comfortable.
"Oh," he says when he ends up with a thigh pressed up against Spencer's erection. "Really?"
"Shut up," Spencer says, kissing Brendon back.
"No, really," Brendon says, pulling back. "Is this like a werewolf thing or am I just exceptionally good at kissing?"
"Kind of both," Spencer says, blushing just a little and sliding his hand up Brendon's back, pushing him closer to get at his lips again. The "So, I kind of have a perma-boner for you!" conversation isn't one he's exactly looking forward to having.
"Well, whatever it is, I like it. I think it's your body's way of saying we should get past first base."
"Fuck you," Spencer growls, his hands sliding down to grab at Brendon's ass, keeping his grip as light as he can even though he wants to squeeze down, wants to hold Brendon close. Brendon moans into Spencer's mouth, kissing harder, and Spencer loves the way Brendon's lips feel, the way their mouths meet when Brendon tilts his head slightly and kisses Spencer desperately, like he's making up for the fact that this is all they can do.
"Like this," Brendon says as Spencer's lips trail down his jaw, over his throat. "We should do this, this is good." He shifts forward harder, starting to rock a little against Spencer's thigh. "Fuck."
Brendon's smell is much stronger now, thicker and heavy with arousal, and Spencer can't stop kissing him. He presses open-mouthed kisses to Brendon's neck, the skin sweet and soft under Spencer's lips, and when he finally starts to suck, Brendon tilts his head back and moans.
"Seriously, Spence, fuck," Brendon whines, rocking down harder and tilting his head forward onto Spencer's shoulder. It just brings his neck closer, his smell filling Spencer's senses and making him dizzy, his cock throbbing. Spencer takes a deep breath and reasons with himself that this is okay, just kissing and grinding through clothes is nothing like losing control. But fuck, who is he kidding?
Spencer's hands squeeze down again where they're holding Brendon's ass, and he pushes at Brendon a little harder than he means to, pressing Brendon closer to his body. He feels something sharp at his shoulder, and oh god, Brendon is biting him. Spencer growls low in his throat and feels about two seconds away from coming when Ryan walks into the room.
"Dude," Ryan says, and they pull apart, but Brendon stays in Spencer's lap, both of them flushed and panting. "Dude, is that why he got more waffles? Seriously?"
Spencer wants to laugh and cry at the same time, his cock still throbbing in his pants. "What the fuck, Ryan, let it go."
Brendon tilts his head forward and starts snickering into Spencer's shoulder, and seriously, it's a good thing Spencer has Brendon in his lap, or else he really would get up and kill Ryan.
"But seriously," Ryan says, "if I make out with you, do I get extra waffles?"
"No," Brendon says, lifting his head and glaring at Ryan.
"Oh, that's adorable," Ryan says, smirking. "Maybe I should make out with you instead and Spencer can bribe me with waffles to stop."
"No," Spencer says, his voice coming out in a growl. Not to mention the fact that his first instinct was to grab Brendon's ass again and seriously, seriously, he's going to die of embarrassment long before he dies of sexual frustration.
"Did you really just growl at me? Over Brendon? This is even funnier than that thing with the saran wrap and the Cheerios, holy shit."
"Saran wrap and Cheerios?" Brendon says curiously.
"Ryan," Spencer hisses. "Leave. Go. Now."
"Whatever," Ryan says. "Jon owes me $20 now anyway."
-
To his credit, Jon lasts a few hours before he says anything. Spencer would almost be proud of him if Jon hadn't opened with, "You know, guys, they say that the road ain't no place to start a family."
"I hate you," Spencer says, dropping his head back against the love seat.
"And just remember, Spence, that loving a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be," Ryan adds seriously.
"No, really, I want to murder you both right now," Spencer says, staring up at the ceiling.
"Oooh, girl," Brendon sings softly, getting up to his knees on the love seat so that he can stare down at Spencer. "Staaaaaaaaaand by meeeeeeee!"
"You're all assholes," Spencer says. "And you," he adds, looking at Brendon, "are a fucking traitor."
He grits his teeth when Brendon throws himself across Spencer's lap and starts singing the "oh oh oh oh ohs," but by the time Ryan picks up the chorus and Jon starts air-guitaring, he's grinning to himself and tapping out the drum beat on Brendon's shoulder. It could have gone much worse, at any rate.
-
Link to part 3