Teen Wolves in Heat, or (Together We'll Be) Fierce and Wild - Spencer/Brendon - PG-13
Title: Teen Wolves in Heat, or (Together We'll Be) Fierce and Wild
Author: alljustlovers
Rating: PG-13ish for language
Pairing: Spencer/Brendon
POV: 3rd
Summary: This whole being a werewolf thing is really, really not helping Spencer get excited for the start of his junior year.
Wordcount: 2,703
Disclaimer: If you think this is real, or if your RL persona is a basis for these characters, it'd be best for everyone involved if you closed out of this window.
Beta: dr_jasley gave this a read through for me; any remaining errors are my own [and I would love if you could point them out to me!]
A/N: This is in equal parts for my schmoop_bingo card, prompt: wild card - soulmates/soulbonding and for Rachel, because I love you always; I took major liberties with this, please don't mind. This is also my own weird way of welcoming myself back into bandom after my 4 month break. 'Ello, 'ello, 'ello again. Parenthetical title comes from a Tanglefoot song.
This whole being a werewolf thing is really, really not helping Spencer get excited for the start of his junior year. As if it wasn’t bad enough moving to a new school district as a chubby 16 year-old with a passion for science - and who had just had that big oh-God-I’m-gay epiphany - he had to go and get bitten by a fucking werewolf as he was taking the garbage out to the bin at the end of his unfamiliar street. Well, shit. If this doesn’t qualify Spencer for some well-deserved teen angst, he figures there isn’t much else that will.
His first day at his new school is dreadful. Honestly, dreadful. Spencer has never been much for dramatics, but this day, on top of the clusterfuck that is his entire life right now, has him nearly clawing his hair out. Or howling at the moon, he guesses, since that’s kind of what werewolves do, right? He doesn’t even know anything anymore except that he’s got an off-colored scar running down his right leg that makes him feel things ten times more than he used to and that a week ago he turned into a fucking wolf just because the moon was full. He also knows that there is nothing okay about eating lunch alone and as he walks to his final class for the day, Spencer just wishes he could rewind to last year and at least have things be okay for a little while again, even if it means time would play out exactly the same and that he would still end up where he is today. Spencer just wants a break, just needs three seconds to calm himself and realize that, yeah, okay, everything is going to be alright.
As if his prayers were being answered, Spencer gets reprieve from his horrible life as soon as he steps into the chemistry lab. His savior comes fully equipped with ugly shoes and a gorgeous pair of lips, but the second Spencer sees him, he feels something kick in, a flood of emotion he‘s never felt before. It crashes through his entire being with warmth, taking over his body and filling it with something hot and tingly until even the darkest recesses of his brain are filled with a litany of gleeful giggles and a giddy ohmygod. Under the initial wave, though, is something more pressing, an insistent voice whispering mineminemineminemine that Spencer can’t quite seem to tune out. Like he knows he’s being looked at [gawked at] the boy suddenly looks up. A flush spreads across the bridge of Spencer’s nose as their eyes lock, and the other boy’s mouth shows the fresh hint of a smile. Spencer walks over.
Without so much as a shared word, Spencer sits down in the empty seat next to the boy.
“Brendon,” the boy says, brown eyes shining bright. “Who are you and why don’t I know you yet?”
Before Spencer has a chance to reply, the bell rings and their teacher calls attention to the front of the classroom. The syllabus is passed around while Mr. Beckett softly explains safety procedures, and Spencer can’t wait anymore. He writes the replies to Brendon’s earlier questions on the corner of one of the handouts, and nudges it just enough in the others direction for it to be easily read.
I’m Spencer. My family just moved here.
Welcome to the block Brendon writes on the corner of his own paper.
Spencer bites down on his lip to try and keep his glee in. Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer sees Brendon’s lips turn into this shy, sweet slip of a smile. Both boys spent the remainder of the class sneaking quick glances at the other, smiling all the while.
After the final bell for the day rings, Brendon zips up his bag and looks fully at Spencer. Letting out a burst of nervous laughter, he asks “Uh. Want to come to my house?”
Spencer does.
The walk to Brendon’s is a quiet, quick one. The pair only has to make their way down two streets and over one until they are coming up the walkway of a beige house with brown trim. Brendon lets them in and heads down the hall, Spencer following shortly after. It’s only once the two are in the room with the door closed behind them that Spencer actually realizes, oh hey, he just followed some kid home from school. Cool. Good job.
“Want to sit?” Brendon asks, gesturing to his bed with a small nod. Spencer nods back, and the two sit side-by-side on the single bed.
“Um. So what do you like to do?” Spencer asks the floor in front of him. He feels Brendon shrug slightly, hears him hum a little before he finally answers.
“I really like music?” His answer comes out a question, and Brendon clears his throat. “That’s mostly it. Movies and stuff are cool too, but music is really my thing. What about you?”
“Pretty much the same. Do you play anything?” Spencer asks, turning a little on the bed to face Brendon.
“Piano mostly. And drums. Some guitar and bass, too. Um, and I sing?” Brendon lets out a soft chuckle. “I have ADD, I guess. Well, no, I do, hah, but with music stuff too, I think. I like learning things, really.”
“That’s awesome. I’ve been playing drums for a few years, but we couldn’t bring my kit when we moved.”
“Bummer!” Brendon hisses.
They talk until Spencer’s phone buzzes with a text from his mom asking where he is and he realizes that hours have passed without him realizing it. As he’s heading out the door, Brendon calls him back. He asks Spencer for his number, and the two exchange phones and program their numbers in. Grabbing his phone back and shoving it hastily into his pocket, Spencer hurries home.
That night, while Spencer is laying in bed and trying to force himself to sleep, he gets a message on his phone. The name reads ‘Bden :)’. Spencer opens the text, and all it says is <33. He shoots back a smiley face and falls asleep shortly thereafter.
The next three weeks are a whirlwind of schoolwork and Brendon, and before he knows it, Spencer wakes up one Friday morning feeling on edge. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck are all on end, and his skin feels taught, like his bones are growing but the rest of him is staying exactly as is. He pushes the uneasy feeling aside to shower and get ready for the day. While he’s getting dressed, Spencer is overcome with the salty smell of bacon; he feels his mouth start watering, can feel himself start to pant as he slips away from all thoughts that don’t center around that bacon and having it inside him right now. The next thing he knows, Spencer hears his mother gasp out his name, and it’s like coming out of a fog as he realizes that he’s standing half naked in the kitchen with raw bacon in his mouth. Fuck. Fuck this fucking werewolf shit, he thinks as he stalks back to his room to finish getting ready for the day, because nothing else would explain why he just blacked out and started eating raw meat unless it was already time for a full moon again.
Spencer’s day is awful. As the sun crawls its way across the sky, Spencer finds himself growing more and more tense, finds himself smelling and tasting things stronger than he should. He doesn’t remember this from last month, was it different then or did he just not realize it since he spent the day inside? He’s not even sure anymore. The one thing screaming through Spencer’s brain all day is runrunrun, and as soon as he can, he plans on it. Right until he starts to walk into Mr. Beckett’s class.
Before he even sees Brendon, he’s nearly knocked to the floor by the relief flooding through him. Spencer can smell Brendon, and God, does he smell like everything good in the world, everything perfect and happy and right. It’s this feeling that makes Spencer keep his head down as he walks into the room, keeps his head down until he feels that same sweet burn that he felt the first time he ever saw Brendon. As he looks up, Spencer’s eyes lock immediately with Brendon’s. It’s the first time the two have seen each other all day since this is the only period they share, and Spencer can’t even believe what he’s seeing.
The hairs on Brendon’s arms are all on end, and he’s panting as he stares at Spencer. In his head, Spencer thinks mineminemineminemine, and also holy shit because Brendon? Well, Spencer’s pretty fucking sure that Brendon is a werewolf too. Taking his seat, Spencer looks over at Brendon. Brendon stares back until Mr. Beckett calls attention to the front of the room, and the two boys break eye contact and face forward. The scent of Brendon fills each breath Spencer takes, and every minute that passes takes him further and further into that terrible place that he’s only been once before.
It seems like hours before the final bell rings. Without saying anything, Brendon wraps a hand too tightly around Spencer’s wrist and practically drags him from his seat and down the hall. Brendon doesn’t loosen his hand until they’re half-way to his house, and even then it’s only to let his fingers slide down the curve of Spencer’s hand and tangle their fingers together. It’s the first time they’ve ever held hands, and Spencer can’t even concentrate properly on the elation he feels because he’s so caught up in the transformation he feels coming on. It’s late afternoon already, he doesn’t have much time.
“Call home. Tell your mom you’re sleeping over, and then meet me in my room.” Brendon orders in a gruff voice once they reach their destination. He unlocks the door and slips inside, leaving Spencer alone on the front lawn. He calls his mom and lets her know that he’s at Brendon‘s that night, and she tells him to be safe and have fun; Spencer nearly barks out a laugh at the way she couldn’t even begin to understand the irony of that statement.
Back inside the house, Brendon is doubled over heaving for air, the knots of his spine poking through his shirt like an army marching off to war. This is how Spencer finds him when he lets himself inside. His first instinct is to rush to Brendon and ask what he can do; that thought is immediately taken over by a searing pain in his back. Hunching in on himself, Spencer feels his vertebrae stretching, snapping into a grisly line running the length of his torso. It’s unbearable. Letting out a cry that sounds more animal than human, Spencer falls to the floor. He feels a rough hand dragging across his cheek, smells the overpowering stench of sweat, tastes a metallic tang in his throat.
“It gets easier over time, I promise.” Brendon’s voice comes out soft, dark. Then he says, “I knew there was something about you. I knew there was something pulling me to you.”
And there’s no denying it after that, no point in even pretending that either of them are normal kids anymore.
“How long has it been?” Brendon asks eventually. “You smell so sweet, so fresh.”
“This is the second time.” Spencer grits through his teeth, the pain still nearly intolerable. “Only my second time and I’m ready for this to never happen again.”
Brendon whistles out something sharp, pets down Spencer’s back as he tells him, “It does get easier, I promise, but these next few times are going to be pretty bad. I got bit a little over 4 years ago, now. I’m finally getting the hang of it.”
It’s the last thing Spencer hears before he feels the tightness in his chest, the taste of metal on his teeth, and he’s up and out of the room. He runs through the house, bursting through the back door and running towards the wooded area he knows lays beyond. Spencer reaches a clearing that comes just before the trees when his head jerks up against his will, finding the sky darkened and the moon hanging low and yellow in the sky. His feet carry him closer and closer to the overgrowth that he knows will bring him shelter for the night as his entire body is wracked by sobs. The closer he gets to the woods, the less his cries sound human. Ten feet into the woods, and Spencer’s face stretches and pulls into something hideous. He can tell where each coarse hair is bursting through his skin, can feel every millimeter of growth that turns his nails into claws and his teeth into fangs. The pain shoots through his entire body, pulls him onto his hind legs as he sits there folded in on himself while the transformation finishes. It’s done almost as suddenly as it started, and Spencer throws his head back and screams.
It comes out as a wolf’s howl.
Minutes later, hours even, or maybe just seconds, another wolf joins Spencer. He sniffs, and is overcome again with that mantra of mineminemineminemine. The two stalk toward one another and butt noses in greeting once they’re close enough. They spend the night curled up together under the star-filled sky.
In the morning, Spencer wakes up naked, alone and feeling more relaxed than he has in days. He streaks quickly back to Brendon’s house; the back door is unlocked and it’s early enough in the morning that everyone is still in their respective rooms. Sneaking into Brendon’s room, Spencer finds clothes already laid out for him. He dresses quickly and stands in the middle of the floor, unsure of what he should do next. Brendon lifts his head enough that it draws Spencer’s attention, motions with his chin to the bed, and holds the blanket up. Spencer crawls into bed next to Brendon, and the two lay side-by-side for an unsure minute. Then it’s like the bed itself is shifting, working their bodies closer together until there’s no space between them, until there’s nothing stopping one boy from flowing into the other. They fall back asleep like that.
When Spencer wakes up for the second time that day, it’s because his heart clenches like there’s a vice around it. He hisses, gasps, clutches at his chest, and hears something similar coming from the other side of the bed. Reaching out blindly, Spencer finds Brendon’s hand with his own and squeezes as tight as he can. Almost immediately, there’s relief from the pain in the form of the tingling that he’s only felt a few times before. It’s stronger this time though, nearly vibrating through his veins. Then it hits him, it is vibrating. Not within him, but through him, through his hand and into Brendon’s where their palms are pressed together. Spencer’s eyes lock with Brendon’s, their hands finally stilling between them, and Spencer leans over and kisses Brendon.
“I’m not sure if you knew,” Brendon whispers into the scant space between their lips after the two break their kiss, “but werewolves pick a mate for life.”
Brendon then flips Spencer’s hand over so the palm is facing up, and sure enough, Spencer sees a faint X on his palm. It’s hardly noticeable, looking more like palm lines than anything else, but it’s something that wasn’t there before.
“That means you’re taken.” Brendon says softly, smiling down at the mark. “It’s kind of like a fate thing, all this werewolf business. You were supposed to be bitten and turned, and you were supposed to find me. I hope you don’t mind.” The last part is spoken softly, sheepishly, and Spencer smiles.
“I knew there was something about you.” Spencer repeats Brendon’s words from the day before.
They kiss again, lacing their fingers back together, each pressing their crossed palm into the others.
So, okay, maybe Spencer’s going to be pretty okay with being a werewolf after all.