Erasing All This Body's Known | Spencer/Brendon | AU | ~ 21 000 words | NC-17 | Part 2/2
Notes | Part One | Part Two | Epilogue |
--
eight.
Spencer aces his playing test, then spends most of the weekend bumming around. He goes to a movie with Ryan and Jon on Saturday, but other than that he doesn't leave his apartment except to walk his dogs, so there's no reason why he should be so tired on Monday that he just stays in bed instead of going to class.
Tired isn't even right though. He just-- doesn't want to get up. So he doesn't.
He pushes the comforters away and lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling until he falls asleep again. He sleeps until three, then finally rolls out of bed, though mostly just because he's hungry.
He eats three bagels, feeds the dogs, and half-heatedly pokes around his apartment. He needs to vacuum, but his head hurts from sleeping too long, and he doesn't want the noise.
He clips the dogs onto their leashes and takes them for a long walk, eventually tying them to a bike rack when he runs into a cafe to grab some supper. He feeds them what is left of his sandwich and finally heads back home.
--
On Wednesday, Spencer realizes that he's gone at least seventy-two hours without actually talking to anyone. He made it up to campus a couple of times, but didn't run into anyone he knew on the way to the practice room, and didn't have anything to add to the class discussion during the lecture he attended.
He wonders if maybe he should give Ryan a call, but he thinks that Wednesdays might be the day that Ryan goes for meetings at Pete's house, and Spencer really, really doesn't want to go to another one of those.
Spencer's actually a little surprised that Ryan hasn't called to invite him to it so he goes to check his cell phone, which, it turns out, is out of batteries. Spencer just sets it back on the bedside table without plugging it into the charger. He'll check his messages in the morning.
Spencer wonders how many days it's been since he's seen Brendon. From what Spencer heard from Ryan, before his phone died, there's some kind of trouble between the Punks and the Dandies. Spencer doesn't really know what that's supposed to mean. Apparently Pete and the others aren't that worried about it; better to let the vampires kill each other than to interfere.
He leaves his window open so that he'll be able to hear it if Brendon climbs up his fire escape again.
--
Spencer is watching reruns of Seinfeld on TV when someone knocks at his door. He doesn't look through the peephole before answering. Ryan stands in the hallway, looking unimpressed.
"I thought you were dead," he says, pushing past Spencer and into Spencer's apartment.
"No you didn't," Spencer says, closing the door again. "You thought I was ignoring you, which would bother you even more."
"Your phone is out of batteries," Ryan says, without bothering to respond to Spencer. "Don't know if you noticed that." Ryan marches over to Spencer's bedroom, and Spencer can hear him searching around through drawers until he finds the phone charger. He comes back out, phone in one hand and charger in the other and makes a point of plugging the phone into to wall.
"There," Ryan says. "Since apparently that was too difficult for you to manage on your own."
"Thanks," Spencer says, dryly.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ryan says.
"I think I'm coming down with something, maybe," Spencer says.
"Have you been going to class?" Ryan asks.
Spencer shrugs.
"Look," Ryan says. "It's almost the end of semester, and I know you've got--"
Spencer cuts him off. "Thanks for the concern and all," he says. "I'm sorry we can't all be as fucking dedicated to our art as you are."
Ryan's either an English major, or a Creative Writing major, depending how frustrated he is feeling by the workshops. Either way, he's carries a notebook around with him, and he never misses class except when he's hung over, and he can be really fucking smug about it, sometimes.
"If you hate school so much, just take a year off and work," Ryan says. "Stop wasting your student loan, if you're not even going to pass your classes."
"I'm going to pass," Spencer says, firmly, though he's not actually as sure of that as he sounds.
"There's nothing wrong with taking a year off," Ryan says. "Jon takes semesters off all the time."
"Well, good for him," Spencer says. He knows he's being petulant and he doesn't really care. Sometimes seeing Ryan is hard because Ryan still remembers everything that Spencer said when he was growing up, about how he was going to play with the symphony or drum for a rock band, and either way he was going to do something. Ryan's another reminder about how Spencer isn't.
"Did you get your car fixed?" Ryan asks, randomly.
"No," Spencer says. "I'm going to."
"It's been six months," Ryan reminds him.
"Yeah, I know. What's your point?"
"No point," Ryan says. "Just an observation."
Spencer briefly considers getting angry at Ryan, but there's nothing to be gained by it. "I'm just in a bit of a funk," Spencer says, in what he hopes is a soothing voice. "It'll be fine."
Ryan huffs at him.
"I'm sorry I didn't charge my phone," Spencer offers.
"Yeah, well," Ryan says. "Cut that shit out."
"Okay," Spencer says. "You want something to drink?"
"Fine," Ryan says, walking over to Spencer's refrigerator and helping himself to the last beer.
--
Ryan leaves before it's too late because he has to pick up Jon from work. He tries to get Spencer to come with him, but Spencer says that he's just going to have an early night.
"Keep your phone charged," Ryan says before he leaves.
"I will," Spencer says.
"I'm not good at this shit," Ryan says. "You're supposed to be the one who reminds me to pay my phone bill. They disconnected me last week, and Jon had to help me get it set up again."
"I'm sorry," Spencer says, his gut churning with guilt. "I don't mean to-- I mean, I'm not trying-- I mean, I am trying, it's just not-- You know?"
"I know," Ryan says. He curls one hand around Spencer's shoulder, and Spencer pats Ryan's back, gently.
"Thanks for coming by," Spencer says.
"You know I'll always come for you," Ryan says, doing his best impression on maniacal laughter.
"Me, too, okay?" Spencer says. "I'll come for you to."
"Just start picking up your damn phone," Ryan says, then waves goodbye over his shoulder as he walks down the hall.
--
Spencer does mean to go to bed early, but when he heads to the bathroom to wash up, he realizes that, since he woke up at two, he hasn't even been awake for twelve hours yet. He feels lethargic, but not sleepy, so he doubles back from the bathroom, and returns to his vigil in front of the TV.
In the middle of an episode of Family Guy, Spencer hears a voice saying, "Knock, knock," and looks over to see Brendon sticking his head through the open window.
Spencer raises his hand in a little wave, and Brendon takes that as invitation to climb through the window.
"Wow," Brendon says, looking around the room. "It's a party in here." The coffee table is full of dirty dishes, as Spencer has been eating in front of the TV more often than not. There are some dirty clothes on the floor, and Spencer isn't actually sure how they got there. He also isn't sure when he last showered.
He flips Brendon off, then looks around for the remote control. He can't figure out where it went, so he stands up and walks over to turn off the TV.
Spencer sits back on the couch, and Brendon comes over and sits beside him, closer than he needs to be. Spencer doesn't mind the proximity, though. He called his dogs up onto the bed last night, just for want of some warmth in his huge bed. Not that Brendon's body is ever warm.
"How did your piano thing go?" Brendon asks.
Spencer blinks, surprised that Brendon still remembers. "It went good," he says. "Thanks for your help."
Brendon nods. "Do you have another one, soon?"
"Yeah, on Friday," Spencer says, neglecting to mention the one that he had last week that he just didn't bother going to.
"You want help again?" Brendon offers.
Spencer hadn't really planned on going to this one either, but he ends up says, "Sure. If you don't mind."
"Come over tomorrow or something," Brendon says. "You remember where I live?"
"Yeah."
"And take a cab," Brendon says. "Don't walk by yourself at night."
"Okay, okay," Spencer says, rolling his eyes.
"I'm serious," Brendon says. "There's been a bunch of shit going down. Lots of creepy crawlies out at night."
Spencer laughs, and doesn't bother pointing out the irony of Brendon saying something like that.
Brendon glances at his watch, and says, "I should probably head out before too long. The sun will be up soon."
Spencer looks at his own watch, and says, "Huh," surprised that it's so late already.
"What, you don't sleep at night anymore?" Brendon asks.
"Guess not," Spencer says. "My internal clock is all fucked up."
Brendon stands and Spencer does the same. He says, "Stop using the fire escape," and starts steering Brendon towards to door with a hand to his elbow. Spencer realizes what he's doing, and drops his hand away quickly.
"I'm not going to decide to kill you, just because you touched me," Brendon says in a low voice.
Spencer swallows. "Okay," he says. "I mean, I know. I mean-- When are you going to kill me?"
Brendon stares at him, and his eyes are glowing a soft yellow, which is creepy, but not as scary as when they were red that one night. Brendon just says, "Not tonight." Then, “Are you going to finish walking me to the door?"
Spencer nods.
Brendon never bothered to take off his shoes, so once they're at the door, Brendon is all ready to go. Instead of opening the door though, he leans against the wall, and says to Spencer, "Come here."
It's a little less scary when Spencer's the one closing the distance between them, though maybe it would be easier if it were Brendon who was doing so. Spencer takes small steps forward until he is close in front of Brendon. Spencer is slouching, but with the way that Brendon leans back against the wall, Brendon is still noticeably shorter.
Brendon reaches a hand out, curling around the back of Spencer's neck and urging him closer. Spencer's heart is beating so hard that he's sure that Brendon can feel it, pumping beneath the skin. It's better if Spencer doesn't think about Brendon knowing the way Spencer's blood is pumping though, so he tries not to focus on that thought.
Spencer leans in a little, but not quite all the way. Brendon pushes up, coming the rest of the way, and maybe his teeth are sharp, but his mouth is soft, plush lips pressing against Spencer's.
Spencer kisses back because Brendon's mouth is clever, and his fingers are cool and smooth on Spencer's neck, and because Spencer's kind of always been a stupid fuck anyway.
When Brendon opens his mouth, his tongue licking slickly along Spencer's lower lip, Spencer startles. He stands, frozen, heart pounding wildly, before finally parting his lips. It's not so much having Brendon's tongue in his mouth; Brendon's tongue is cool and a little wicked, and when Spencer sucks gently, Brendon rumbles, low in his chest. It's not Brendon's tongue so much as that paralyzing moment when Brendon pulls his own tongue back, and it's Spencer's turn, Spencer's turn to lick past the row of Brendon's teeth, and vampires must be able to control the length of their fangs because Brendon didn't look all toothy before, not like he sometimes does, but still Spencer is scared.
Maybe Brendon can tell, because he licks Spencer's bottom lip again, fucking his tongue slowly into Spencer's mouth until Spencer's knees go all liquid and his hands reach out for Brendon, looking for some kind of purchase. He sets his fingers into the sharp curve of Brendon's hips, and with their tongues moving like this, rubbing together, wet and fast and dirty, Spencer forgets to think about it, and doesn't realize that he's fucking Brendon's mouth with his tongue until Brendon sucks hard, and Spencer moans, the sound muffled between them.
They draw apart slowly, in gradual stages, until finally their mouths aren't touching, even though their hips are still pressed close together. Spencer licks his own lips, which feel swollen and raw, and watches Brendon watching him.
He tilts down to kiss Brendon, just once, just gently, and when he pulls away, Brendon smiles.
Brendon's hand moves down from Spencer's neck to press into his back, and then his other arm comes up, and Spencer forgets to freak out when Brendon's head ends up pressed into his shoulder, close to his neck. He forgets to freeze and wait, because Brendon holds him tightly, and Spencer can't stop clinging back. He doesn't know what's wrong with himself, this strange kind of desperation, but he knows he's hard, knows that he can feel Brendon hard against his leg. Knows that Brendon is holding back, enough that Spencer can almost feel the tension in his body, the energy vibrating just beneath the surface. He doesn't know what Brendon's waiting for, but he does know that he's waiting for Brendon.
Brendon squeezes him even closer, then lets go slowly. "The sun is going to be up soon," he whispers.
Spencer steps back. Makes room for Brendon to get to the door. Stands in the doorway and watches as Brendon walks down the hall, and doesn't think too hard about how, just for a moment, he wishes he was going with Brendon instead of still stuck here in his apartment.
--
nine.
He does take a cab.
Spencer catches the door, following behind the woman who walks into the building before him, so he doesn't have to press the buzzer to be let in. He takes the elevator and then walks to Brendon's condo. The door is open a little bit, and Spencer pushes it open as he calls out, "Hello? Brendon?"
All of the lights are off, and Spencer feels along the wall, trying to find the light switch. He calls again, "Brendon?" and he can hear, faintly, Brendon respond with, "In here."
There's a lamp turned on in the living room, and Spencer can see Brendon, standing in the middle of the room. Brendon winces as he struggles to pull off his shirt, and when he finally gets if over his head, Spencer can see gashes and bruises on his skin. Something tightens in his chest.
"What happened?" Spencer asks quietly. Brendon's still bleeding; red drips down from his chest onto the floor. He steels himself then asks, "Did you fight Pete?"
"No, not Pete," Brendon says. "It was one of the Punks."
"Another vampire did this to you?" Spencer asks.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "But, I killed him, so--"
Spencer lets out a breath, and walks closer towards Brendon. He looks even worse up close, his skin peeling back from the long gash that curves along his ribcage. Even where he isn't bleeding, his skin is more bruised than not.
Brendon has a first aid kit on the couch, and he turns around and fumbles with a roll of gauze.
"Dude, are you going to be okay?" Spencer asks.
Brendon nods. "I heal fast," he says. "Just have to stop the bleeding."
The cut that's bleeding the worse is the one around his ribs, so Spencer says, "Stop twisting around like that, you're making it worse." He takes the gauze form Brendon's hands and cuts off a long strip, folding it over on itself and pushing down on the cut. He uses his other hand to try and hold the skin together, and it's pretty fucking gross, honestly, but when he pulls away to get fresh gauze, the bleeding has already slowed considerably.
Spencer manages to tape some gauze over the wound, and it's the sloppiest bandaging imaginable, but at least Brendon doesn't bleed through the gauze.
"Where else?" he asks.
Brendon rolls his shoulders, like he's trying to get in touch with his body again. He says, "My leg," and when Spencer looks down, he can see that blood has soaked through the fabric of Brendon's pants.
"Take 'em off," he says, snipping the scissors he was using to cut the gauze in Brendon's general direction.
Brendon's hands are unsteady when he fumbles with the buttons on his pants, but he gets them off. Spencer motions for him to sit on the couch, and then kneels on the floor in front of him. He wraps the gauze all the way around his leg instead of trying to cut off strips.
"I don't know if I should do it tight to stop the bleeding, or leave it loose enough that it won't fuck with your circulation," Spencer says. "Wait, do you even have circulation?"
Brendon shrugs. "I guess I must, since I keep bleeding everywhere."
"Yeah, man, your room looks like a scene out of CSI," Spencer says. "That's going to be a lot of fun to clean up." He looks around and says, "Hey! For you, is this like the equivalent of the mess from a food fight?"
Brendon groans. "That was terrible," he says. He leans back against the couch.
"Anywhere else?" Spencer asks.
Brendon looks down. "Just kinda... everywhere, I guess. I don't think there's much that's still bleeding though."
Spencer picks up the bottle of rubbing alcohol, and shakes it. "You want me to disinfect you?" he offers.
"Are you implying that I'm dirty?" Brendon asks.
"Always."
Spencer folds up a cloth and wets it with the alcohol. Brendon's skin is caked with dried blood and dirt, so Spencer can't really see where the actual cuts are. He wipes carefully, in long strokes, trying to clean Brendon's skin. As the blood washes away, Spencer can see a whole lot of bruises, and some deep looking scrapes.
"Oh, nasty," Spencer says. "This is, like. An open wound. And I think you've got shit in it."
"I hit the ground pretty hard," Brendon says.
Spencer turns the cloth over and pours new rubbing alcohol over it. He sets it on the scrape and pushes down carefully. He doesn't know if it would be better to use a wiping motion and risk ripping new skin off, or to just press down and risk not cleaning all the dirt away. He doesn't know if vampires get skin infections.
He lifts the cloth up, and looks at the wound; it seems like some of the dirt is getting cleaned away. At least it hasn't started bleeding again.
He starts wiping carefully, and Brendon shifts on the couch. Spencer glances up quickly, but Brendon is staring straight ahead and he doesn't say anything. Spencer looks back down, and through the thin fabric of Brendon's underwear, he can see the outline of Brendon's cock, hard and straining against the fabric. Spencer startles for a minute, his mouth going dry, and then forces himself to blink.
Spencer looks back at the scrape and tries not to let himself glace down again. Instead, he lifts his gaze back to Brendon's face. Brendon's jaw is clenched tight, but he still stares forward, not looking over to Spencer.
Spencer pours more alcohol onto the cloth, blotting over the wound. He doesn't look at Brendon's face when he asks, "Doesn't this hurt?"
"Yes," Brendon says, and doesn't elaborate further.
Spencer finishes, then busies himself with packing the first aid kit back up. Brendon walks to his bedroom and when he comes back, he's fully clothed again.
"Thanks for the help," Brendon says, as he sits again and starts lacing up his shoes, leaning over gingerly.
"Sure," Spencer says. Brendon finishes tying the first shoe, then starts on the other one. "Where are you going?"
Brendon finishes with the laces and then looks up at Spencer. His face is blank when he says, "I need to feed."
"What?" Spencer asks. "You have to-- Now?"
"I bled out all over my living room, and that was just once I got here. It probably took me half an hour to get back."
"What about the guy?" Spencer asks. "The Punk you killed. Aren't his friends going to be looking for you?"
"Yeah, probably," Brendon says. "I have to go though."
"Are you going to kill someone?" Spencer asks.
Brendon shrugs. His voice is kind when he says, "It's not-- It's more that we can't leave any witnesses, right? Can't have someone going back to the police with puncture marks on their neck and a story about someone drinking their blood."
Spencer's palms are wet.
Brendon turns and starts walking to the door, calling over his shoulder, "If you hang out here for a bit, I'll walk you home when I get back. It won't take me too long." Spencer can see the pained effort in his movements, though the longer he walks, the easier it seems to be for him to hide it.
Spencer considers waiting until Brendon is gone and then heading for home alone. He thinks about waiting for Brendon to get back, so that Brendon can come with him. It's late, and maybe Brendon makes for a strange kind of protection, but it's still safer with him than when Spencer's by himself. Thinks of waiting until Brendon comes back, and he'll probably be feeling better then, full of someone's blood, with one more body hidden somewhere.
Spencer doesn't raise his voice, because he knows that Brendon will be able to hear him. He looks at the ground and mumbles, "Just tonight. Just this once," and Brendon freezes, then turns around.
He doesn't pretend like he doesn't understand what Spencer is saying, and he doesn't make Spencer say the words out loud. He walks over to Spencer, and sits back down on the couch. Spencer is still standing, and Brendon looks small when he's seated. Spencer sits down on the other end of the couch, and wipes his hands on his pants.
"Just a little bit," he says, rubbing his palms over the fabric again.
Brendon looks over at Spencer's hands, and then his face and says, "It wouldn't be hard for me to find someone."
Spencer shakes his head. "You're just going to take a little bit?" He clears his throat and says, "You're not going to kill me tonight, right?" -- trying to turn it into a joke, with limited success.
Brendon says, "No, I'm not going to kill you tonight."
Now that Brendon knows he doesn't have to go out, he looks worse, like he's stopped pretending that it doesn't hurt. His face is porcelain, except for the long scrape down his cheekbone, and the bruises spread over his neck.
He turns to Spencer and says, "Come here," instead of crowding into Spencer's space, which Spencer appreciates.
Spencer doesn't move though. He clenches his hands into fists, and then relaxes his fingers. "Not my neck," Spencer says.
Brendon asks, "You don't like having your neck touched?" He reaches out and runs a finger lightly down the skin of Spencer's neck, then trails it over his collarbone.
Spencer doesn't flinch. "No," he says. "Just-- Not my neck. Maybe, maybe like this." He scoots a little further back, then pulls Brendon towards him, encouraging Brendon to twist around, until he's leaning against Spencer, his back to Spencer's chest.
Spencer exhales, then lifts his arm up, turning his hand so that his wrist is facing out, towards Brendon. Brendon hand catches around Spencer's forearm, holding firmly, but not enough that Spencer couldn't pull away if he wanted to.
Spencer's hand shakes visibly, and he curls his fingers into a fist to try and hide the trembling. Brendon's other hand reaches up to wrap his fingers around Spencer's hand, circling Spencer's fist lightly. He pulls gently, coaxing Spencer to wrap his arm closer around Brendon's body, and then Brendon dips his head down and presses his lips to Spencer's pulse.
Spencer wants to pull away, wants to run out of the room because this moment of waiting is more tension than he can bear. He makes himself hold still though.
Brendon moves his lips from the fat pulse point on Spencer's wrist to another spot, further up. His tongue comes out to lick the skin in a broad stroke, and Spencer's breath catches in his throat. Brendon presses his lips down, before opening his mouth, his tongue coming out again, and then the gentle pressure of his teeth. He starts biting down, slowly, and the pressure is so steady that Spencer relaxes a little. It's easier when he knows what's coming, when he can expect the constant pressure downward instead of having to tense against some unknown pain. The bite hurts, and it starts hurting more, and then Brendon gives a little nip and breaks the skin. It takes the space of a breath before it starts to sting, but even when it does, it's not too bad. Brendon's teeth are sharp, and they cut the skin cleanly.
Brendon closes his mouth against the wound and lets the blood flow into his mouth, not sucking to draw it out faster. Spencer can feel it every time Brendon swallows, and that seems to happen infrequently.
Spencer relaxes his arm, letting Brendon hold up the weight instead of trying to do so himself. He loosens his fist, even though Brendon's hand against his own means that the fingers stay curled together.
Brendon slides his mouth a little further down, and then Spencer can feel the press of his teeth again. He does the same thing he did before: biting down slowly to let Spencer get used to the pressure, then nipping lightly to break the skin. He seems to be letting the cuts bleed and then close on their own, instead of trying to open then up again. Spencer thinks that maybe it hurts less that way, and is grateful.
Brendon's tongue traces small circles, licking over the puncture points. He moves to another spot and does the same thing as before, with the careful biting and nipping, and now that Spencer knows what to expect, he relaxes further into the couch.
He whispers, "Just a sec," and then moves his leg, bending it at the knee and scooting backwards so that Brendon is sitting between his thighs instead of beside him. The strain is less on Spencer's arm this way. Brendon waits for him to settle again, before opening his mouth to Spencer's skin. Spencer can't really see what Brendon's doing, but he thinks that there is a line of little marks on his arm; it feels like Brendon is moving up in even increments.
Brendon bites a little deeper now; the pain is a little sharper. Spencer is ready for it though, his head starting to float off somewhere else. His arm hurts, but everywhere else is soft and liquid, and the easy feeling just gets stronger each time Brendon bites. Spencer sighs, opening his legs a little wider and letting his body catch more of Brendon's weight, as Brendon leans back into him.
Brendon sucks for the first time and there is this surge that Spencer wasn't expecting. He gasps and jerks a little, right when Brendon's teeth are cutting through the skin, and because he moved, Brendon ends up ripping deeper than he likely meant too. He pulls away, immediately after, turning his head to look back at Spencer.
Spencer glances at his own arm. He's bleeding and the blood is starting to slide down to the crook of his elbow, but it doesn't look to bad. Nothing that couldn't be cleaned up with a Kleenex. He looks at Brendon, and Brendon's eyes are glowing almost yellow. His mouth is smeared with Spencer's blood, and even though his cheeks are pale, his lips are dark, dark red. His mouth is open a little bit, and Spencer can see just the tip of his tongue.
Spencer whispers, "It's okay; keep going," and Brendon quickly lowers his head back down. He licks up the spilled blood first, then fastens his mouth to the wound, and this time when he sucks, Spencer is ready for it. He's ready for it, but there's still that same surge, only stronger this time, and Spencer's body curls forward, in towards Brendon.
Brendon keeps sucking and it's like there's a pull from all over Brendon, not just from the suction on his mouth, and Spencer wants to be closer. He leans down until his forehead is resting on the back of Brendon's shoulders, Spencer's back bowing sharply. Spencer's other hand comes up to grab Brendon's arm, the one that's holding Spencer's right hand. He grabs Brendon's arm, almost hugging Brendon from behind, and when Brendon sucks hard, at least there is something for Spencer to cling to. His erection digs into Brendon's lower back and every time Spencer shifts forward, there's a pressure against his cock, which is good, which is a relief, but nothing like that of Brendon's mouth.
Brendon lifts Spencer's arm up higher, his own head tipping back, and Spencer can see a little trail of blood slide down from the corner of Brendon's mouth. He watches that, watches Brendon's lips, and his hips keep rocking forward, the rhythmic suckling of Brendon's mouth translating directly to a throb of Spencer's cock.
Spencer makes a little noise into Brendon's shirt, holding on tighter with his free hand. Brendon moves his mouth to a new spot of skin and bites right in, no slow build up, and the bite is this bright flash of sensation, and it hurts, Spencer knows this, but his head is so floaty and his cock is so hard, and he moans into Brendon's back.
This time when Brendon sucks, Spencer whimpers, and his hips jerk forward. Spencer's not sure how much more he can take without-- something, he doesn't even know what, but he's not sure how much more he can take before this not-quite-enough feeling overwhelms him completely.
Brendon finishes with the bite, but instead of sinking his teeth in again, he starts licking in long strokes over Spencer's forearm, cleaning up the skin, soothing the wounds. He lingers over each puncture point, tonguing the new scabs, and the sensation of his tongue creates a dull ache that kind of throbs, and kind of makes Spencer wants to push his arm up harder into Brendon's teeth.
Brendon sets Spencer's arm down gently, and moves away from Spencer, not off the couch, but slowly separating their bodies. Without Brendon to lean into, Spencer realizes how woozy he's feeling. He sways a little, and then leans back more firmly to the couch. He nestles into the arm, slowly sliding lower. He pulls up his other leg, so that his whole body is on the couch.
Brendon has turned around to regard Spencer. When Spencer stops shifting, Brendon reaches out a hand, and runs his thumb down the line of scabs on Spencer's inner arm. Then he lifts his hand to run his thumb over the line of Spencer's jaw.
Spencer feels embarrassed asking, but his body is all floaty, except for the steady throb between his legs, and Spencer says, "Can we just lie here for a minute?"
Brendon nods, and waits for Spencer to stretch out all the way before lying down beside him. The couch is large, but there isn't enough room for them both to lie without squishing together. Brendon's arm wraps firmly around Spencer's waist, and he holds his head up with his other arm, his elbow bent and chin resting on his palm. He looks down at Spencer, and Spencer kind of misses when Brendon's body was still between his legs and he has something to grind against, but before he can work that thought through to anything concrete, Spencer's eyes slip closed and he falls fast asleep.
--
When he wakes, he has no idea how much time has passed, or where he is. He opens his eyes, and slowly focuses on Brendon, sitting on the edge of the couch and staring down at him. The room is dark except for the small lamp on the coffee table, and Brendon's eyes flash a warm yellow.
Spencer licks his lips, then pushes himself back until he's propped up against the arm of the couch. He blinks and few times, and tries to wake up enough to understand what's going on.
"I'm hungry," Brendon says. His voice is low. Spencer doesn't think his dick ever stopped throbbing, and hearing Brendon's voice makes that surge thing happen again, almost as much as Brendon sucking did.
"'kay," says Spencer, sleepily. "Not my neck."
Brendon smiles at him, all sharp teeth and soft lips, and he touches Spencer's arm, lying on the couch, and, when Spencer nods, he helps Spencer lift it up until he can reach with his mouth. It's the same arm as before, and Spencer wonders if he's still going to be sore from last time; wonders, but doesn't care.
Brendon's tongue runs over his skin, and it feels warmer this time, like Spencer's blood has heated him. Warmer and wet and soft when he licks, and Spencer's hip shift up, rocking into the air. He wishes that there was something for him to rock against.
Spencer's skin itches now, and when Brendon bites in, the pain is sharp and sweet. He sucks steadily, and Spencer's eyes roll back in his head.
Brendon drinks from that bite for what feels like a long time, and Spencer can't stop shifting on the couch, looking for some kind of friction and finding none. He pants, his head spinning fiercely, and the throb of his cock is more of an ache now.
Spencer gasps then mutters, "Brendon, Brendon." Brendon moves his mouth up a little and bites down again, and Spencer's voice cracks over the syllables.
He gropes at Brendon's shoulder and tugs, keeps tugging until Brendon lifts his mouth away, his lips slick and his eyes unfocused. Spencer pulls on him, and chants, "Brendon, Brendon," tugging until Brendon finally lowers himself down to the couch, stretching out on top of Spencer, and Spencer shudders at the weight of Brendon's body pressing against him.
Spencer tries to give Brendon his arm again, but the angle is awkward now. Instead, Brendon pushes up the sleeve of Spencer's t-shirt and bites into the soft white skin of Spencer's upper arm. Spencer lifts his arm out to the side, rolling his shoulder backward so that Brendon's mouth can reach the inner skin. It hurts more here, the pain translating into something almost like a tickle. Spencer's other hand tangles into Brendon's hair, cupping the back of Brendon's head and trying to pull him in closer.
Spencer spreads his legs wider, rocking up into the solid press of Brendon's body. He says, "Oh," and Brendon hums something into Spencer's skin.
Spencer ducks his head down, neck curving painfully, until he can touch Brendon's head with his own. His skin is crawling, little flashes of sensation every time Brendon sucks, and Spencer can't take it any more.
He whispers, "Please, please," clinging to Brendon's upper back and hoping that Brendon knows what to do.
Brendon moves his mouth to bite one last time, and he sucks hard so that there's surge after surge and it keeps on building, and Spencer can't some making these high, desperate noises, until finally Brendon licks over the cuts one last time. He lifts his mouth away and Spencer doesn't know if he's grateful or anxious to have it back, but either way he needs more.
He presses his forehead to Brendon's and hopes, and hopes, and hopes that Brendon knows what to do because he can't. Brendon's eyes flash, and when his lips pull back Spencer can see his teeth, sharp teeth, soft mouth, and Spencer arches into the press of Brendon's body and aches for more.
Brendon snarls when Spencer rolls his hips up, staring down at Spencer for one more long moment before exploding into movement. He stands, leaning over Spencer and going straight for his pants, and Spencer just lifts his hips up to help Brendon get them down over his hips. Brendon pulls his underwear down too, until Spencer is bare. He braces one hand on the couch and ducks down to lick the precome off Spencer's cock before pulling back, tugging his own pants off and then throwing himself back on top of Spencer.
They rub together, and Spencer can't stop moaning at the feel of Brendon's bare skin. Brendon's hands settle on Spencer's waist, helping Spencer tilt his hips up, and Spencer does, he opens for Brendon and doesn't try to move away from his hands, but he reaches down to touch Brendon's wrist with soft fingers, and whispers, "I can't take it without lube."
Brendon doesn't move at first, and Spencer closes his eyes and waits, but finally Brendon's hands let go, and he pulls away from Spencer, standing up, walking over somewhere else, and Spencer wants him back, misses his weight and the feel of his skin, because now that Brendon's gone, Spencer's hips are rocking up into the air again.
Brendon comes back though, and he's holding a bottle, and when he settles on top of Spencer again, Spencer sobs out, "Thank you," because Brendon came back, and this time his fingers are reaching between Spencer's legs and they're slick, and it hurts when he slides two in right away, but it doesn't tear. The pain settles into a throb, settles into a sharp flare of pleasure when Brendon crooks his fingers, and Spencer's isn't open yet, but he's slick, and Brendon's cock is slick, and it's hard to take him when Brendon pushes inside, but Spencer just bares down against the burning, rocks into it, even though it hurts, and wails when Brendon's hips snap forward.
He needs, and he needs and Brendon is fucking him, and Spencer can't stop clinging to Brendon's shoulders, trying to pull him even closer. Brendon fucks him hard, and it never stops hurting, but it's the more that Spencer needed.
There's no room on the couch, and Spencer is caught between the arm and the back and Brendon on top of him. He can't move, and his head keeps bumping up against the arm rest, and it's hard to breathe like this, so much of Brendon's weight resting on top of him. Spencer reaches his arm up above his head, trying to stop the bump of his head. When he twists his arm, one of the cuts tears open again, and Brendon's eyes snap to it immediately. He inhales deeply, like he can smell the blood, and he reaches up, stretching his neck until he can fix his mouth onto Spencer's arm, licking up the blood, sucking on the newly opened cut.
Brendon's mouth is wet, and the pressure as he sucks goes straight to Spencer's cock, that same surge, surge, surge, but more now, because Brendon's cock deep in his ass is completing the circuit. The fingers of Spencer's other hand dig in hard to Brendon's shoulders, and his back arches, and when Brendon sucks hard, Spencer can feel it all down his body until it pools in his dick, and Spencer comes. Brendon keeps sucking, keeps fucking him, and it's more until it's too much, until Spencer's cock jerks again, dry this time and more intense because of it, and when Brendon comes, he bites Spencer's arm, teeth setting in, but not enough to break the skin.
Brendon rolls to the side, and Spencer gasps for air, but before his breathing has evened out, he has passed out again, sandwiched between Brendon and the back of the couch.
--
ten.
Spencer wakes up sore and disgustingly sticky. He stretches out on the couch and winces, then makes a face when he feels the slickness between his thighs, the come that has dried on his belly. His head throbs and aches, worse than any hangover he's ever felt. He sits up gingerly, and from a chair on the other side of the room, Brendon says, "Morning, sunshine."
"You hate the sunshine," Spencer mumbles. He squints at the face of his watch. "And it isn't morning."
Sitting up is not the most comfortable thing Spencer's ever had to do, and it's worse when he bends over, trying to grab his clothes off of the floor. He pulls his pants up onto his lap, which affords him a little modesty at least, and then sits and blinks for a few minutes, waiting for the fuzziness of sleep to sharpen into awareness again.
He reaches down and absently scratches at his forearm, which itches like crazy. His fingernail catches one of the scabs, tearing if off, and Spencer looks down and says, "Damn." Blood oozes up and starts to trickle down his arm.
Brendon stands, and walks over, his footsteps silent like he's moving carefully to try not to scare Spencer away. He kneels down on the floor in front of Spencer, resting back on his heels, his feet crossed under him, and reaches out slowly to grasp Spencer's arm, pulling even slower once his hand is around Spencer's wrist. He gently tugs until Spencer's arm is stretched out, and then leans forward and licks lightly over the trail of blood, his tongue barely brushing Spencer's skin.
He licks up the blood that has spilled, then moves to the wound. Brendon doesn't close his mouth and suck; each time he licks, Spencer can see Brendon's tongue, dark and wet with blood, before he closes his mouth quickly to swallow, then his tongue darting quickly back out again.
Brendon finishes licking the blood clean, then looks up at Spencer. "These itchy?" he asks.
"Yeah," Spencer says.
"You want me to do something so they'll heal faster?" Brendon offers.
Spencer looks down at Brendon, and then nods.
"Okay," Brendon says. He bites his own lip, dragging his sharp teeth across the flesh until blood wells up, and then kisses Spencer's arm, bloody imprints onto each of the puncture marks.
The itching starts to fade away almost immediately.
"You couldn't have done this last night?" Spencer asks.
Brendon looks up and licks his own blood off of his lips. "Maybe I wanted to know what you'd wake up with my marks on you," he says.
Spencer exhales loudly.
Brendon runs his finger over his bottom lip, then touches it to the marks higher up on Spencer's arm, the ones he couldn't reach with his mouth.
Spencer looks down at his arm, his skin smeared with blood. "How long do I have to leave this?" he asks. The backs of his thighs are sticking to the couch, his hair is matted to the top of his head, and Spencer wants a shower like he's never wanted a shower before.
"Not too long," Brendon says. "You want to use my shower?"
Spencer nods. "Maybe that will help my head."
"Headache?" Brendon asks.
"Yeah."
Brendon starts asking, "You want me to--" and maybe Spencer already knows where this is going because he just leans his head down and licks Brendon's bottom lip, his mouth still open, and then he licks Brendon's tongue just because he wants to. Brendon's blood tastes like blood, tastes like copper and is hard to swallow back, but Spencer does.
Brendon kisses back, and when Spencer finally comes up for air, he realizes that the pounding in his head has settled.
He blinks, surprised. "That actually worked," Spencer says.
Brendon just winks. He pushes up to his feet and reaches out a hand towards Spencer. "Shower?"
--
Spencer showers and Brendon must use the chance to clean up, because when Spencer steps out of the bathroom, Brendon's living room looks less like the scene of a massacre. There's still blood staining the carpets, but at least there aren't bloody towels lying on the floor anymore.
"I can't believe I slept all the way until sundown," Spencer says.
"You ready for me to walk you home?" Brendon asks.
"I guess. I've already missed all my classes, but I should get back and feed the dogs."
--
Spencer shouldn't be surprised when they're attacked as they walk down the street, away for Brendon's apartment, but he is.
He lets out a little scream as someone rushes them from behind, and then a low groan when Brendon shoves him aside, and he hit the ground hard.
The other vampire -- a Punk, he must be a Punk, with the piercings and the way he's trying to kill Brendon and all -- snarls at Brendon then punches him in the face. Spencer winces just from watching it, but Brendon doesn't flinch.
Brendon's a better fighter than Spencer would have guessed. The other vampire is larger than Brendon by a lot, but Brendon has him on the ground in minutes. Brendon wraps his head around the other vampires head, bashing it back into the concrete, and Spencer doesn't know if that's enough to kill a vampire, but the guy stops moving after that.
Brendon stands, wipes the blood off his chin with the side of his hand, and says to Spencer, "Come on, let's get you home before someone else comes."
Spencer stands quickly, stumbling in his hurry to get to Brendon's side.
"You okay?" he asks.
Brendon nods. "Fine."
As they walk down the street, Spencer can hear screaming coming from up ahead. Brendon says in a low voice, just as they're approaching the alley, "Don't look," but Spencer's eyes shift over, anyway.
There's a vampire, Spencer guesses it's a vampire anyway. There's a body, crouched over another body, and the body on the ground is the one screaming. There are wet, wet noises, and in the brief glance that Spencer gets, it actually looks like the vampire is chewing on the other person's neck. Not drinking, not biting, but chewing. Crouched over like a dog and gnawing away as the person screams.
Spencer thinks that he might throw up, his steps slowing unintentionally, but Brendon grabs his elbow and hurries him forward.
"Breathe," Brendon says, and Spencer tries to find air again.
"Is that-- Is that what-- When you, is that what you--" he stutters. This is not a question that he should be asking.
Brendon looks over at him, eyes sharp and hand tight around Spencer's arm.
"No," Brendon says firmly. "No, that's not what it's like."
Spencer nods, letting Brendon's strong hand pull him along.
"That vampire is-- That's not what most vampires are like," Brendon says.
"What was wrong with him?" Spencer asks, trying to calm the frantic racing of his heart.
"It's like--" Brendon considers for a minute. "It matters how a vampire is changed, right? Like, so for the ones that are really scared when they're turned, that never really goes away, kind of, and fear makes people really aggressive, and really stupid."
Spencer nods. He asks, "Do you know what it is that made Pete different?"
"When Pete was changed, he had a whole lot of unfinished business," Brendon says. "It's not like he's, you know, more human or anything, just that he wasn't ready to stop fighting, and wasn't ready to let go of the things he was still looking for."
"Like what?" Spencer asks.
"Like Patrick," Brendon says. "Like the band. Like the human life that he was trying to set up. Mostly Patrick though, I think."
"That would make sense," Spencer says, then asks, "What about you?"
"What was I like when I was changed?" Brendon clarifies.
Spencer nods.
"I was--" Brendon look over as he considers the question. "I was ready to belong somewhere, I guess. I don't know, it's not exactly like that for everyone. I wasn't scared, though, and there wasn't anything left that I was still holding on to."
They both fall quiet, and Spencer listens to the sounds of their footsteps as they walk down the street.
--
Brendon stands and waits while Spencer walks up the stairs in front of his apartment building. Spencer pauses at the top, looking back towards Brendon and wondering if he should ask if Brendon is going to be all right. Brendon can look after himself; Brendon has demonstrated that he knows what he's doing. Spencer wonders what the injuries on his body look like now. He hasn't seen them since last night, and he wonders if Brendon is healed yet. Spencer doesn't know how fast vampires heal, but the marks on Spencer's arms have already healed to nothing but faint pink circles.
Spencer wants to ask what Brendon is planning on doing for the rest of the night, but he's pretty sure he knows what the answer would be, and Spencer doesn't really want to hear Brendon say that he's going hunting. Doesn't want to try and picture what Brendon would look like feeding. Brendon said that it wasn't like that other vampire, which is somewhat comforting, but Spencer doesn't really want to think about Brendon feeding on someone else the same way he drank from Spencer, and either way, it's just better if he doesn't ask.
In the end, Spencer says nothing, just waves to Brendon, who calls up, "Night." Spencer lets himself into his apartment building, walks up the starts to his place, feeds both of the dogs, refills their water bowls, then stands in front of his window, looking out into the night. It's dark, and Spencer can't see anyone. Spencer wonders if anyone can see him.
--
Spencer falls asleep, just as the sun is starting to light up the cracks that aren't covered by his drapes. When he wakes up, the room is bright, and the skin on his arm is smooth white, all of the cuts completely healed.
--
eleven.
Spencer wonders how many days it's been since he went to class. He can't remember what day of the week it is today, but he rushes around his apartment, trying to get ready to leave because he needs groceries, and the grocery store is going to close soon. Spencer only woke up an hour ago, but the store closes at seven, and if he doesn't make it before then, there will be nothing for him to eat. Maybe he could order pizza or something.
He walks over to see if he has the number for pizza programmed into his cell phone, but finds instead that his cell phone is again out of batteries. He sets it back down, right beside the charger without bothering to plug it back in.
He does make it before the store closes, with twenty minutes to spare. He buys cereal and bagels and juice and pushes his cart around aimlessly, trying to find something that looks appealing to eat. Spencer does his best grocery shopping when he's stoned; as it is, nothing looks appetizing.
A voice announces that the store is closing in five minutes, so Spencer pushes his mostly empty cart up to the cash registers.
--
It doesn't take Spencer long to unpack his groceries. His dogs come into the kitchen, looking up at him with big eyes, so he clips on their leashes and sets off for a walk. He knows that it's too late for him to be walking alone, but sticks close to his apartment block, and figures that he'll be safe enough.
He doesn't walk for long, but the dogs seem happy enough to head home, and they curl up under the coffee table in the living room when he lets them into the house. Spencer puts their leashes away, then walks and stands in front of his window again, hating how small his apartment seems, hating that he still can't see anything when he looks out into the night.
--
It's late when Spencer phones for a cab, but he asks the driver to wait as he runs up to ring the buzzer to Brendon's condo, so that even if Brendon isn't there, he'll still have a ride home. He doesn't really think that Brendon's going to be home-- it's the middle of the night, and from what Spencer understands, there's a whole lot going on for Brendon right now-- but he answers when Spencer buzzes.
Spencer says, "Just a sec," runs off to pay the cabbie, and then Brendon buzzes him up.
"I didn't think you'd actually be here," Spencer says, when Brendon opens up his door.
Brendon lets him inside, and says, "I'm laying low, for now. Things are kind of fucked up."
"Is it-- What, like turf wars or something?" Spencer asks.
"Basically," Brendon says. "William has something planned though; it shouldn't drag on for too much longer."
"That's good?" Spencer says, raising his voice at the end to turn it into a question. The lines of what's good and what's bad have started to blur a little in his head. Ryan said that Pete said that William is bad, but that doesn't mean as much to Spencer as it would have once.
Spencer follows Brendon into his living room, then stands, feeling awkward all of the sudden. Brendon stoops over to pick up a pillow from the floor, throwing it onto the couch, then turns to stand in front of Spencer.
Brendon is close enough to touch, and Spencer clears his throat and says in a low voice, "Brendon," and Brendon smiles, his lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth.
Spencer thinks that he should say something, or maybe that Brendon should say something, or at least that they shouldn't be standing in the middle of Brendon's living room. Brendon must be thinking something similar, because he wraps his fingers around Spencer's wrist and says, "Come on," leading Spencer over to his bedroom.
Spencer doesn't say anything, just follows Brendon, and when Brendon turns, pressing close to Spencer as they stand by the foot of the bed, Spencer bends down and meets Brendon's mouth.
Brendon's teeth are sharp and long, and Spencer thinks it's his own blood he's tasting, but it's hard to tell. By the time Brendon pushes him back onto the bed, Spencer's lips feel pulverized.
Brendon crawls onto the bed, resting on Spencer's thighs so that Spencer can sit up enough for them to get his shirt off. Brendon's fingers are cool against his skin, but it's okay because Spencer is sweating anyway, his skin tight and too hot over his bones.
Brendon kisses Spencer's mouth, pulls back enough to look Spencer in the eye, then leans down to kiss him again. Spencer's hands come up to rest high on Brendon's thighs, fingers digging in, and Brendon's body comes down even more, covering Spencer's, pressing him into the mattress, and Spencer can't breathe. He can't breathe, but when Brendon licks up his neck, his tongue soothing up in a long line before he sets his teeth into Spencer's skin, at least there's a weight for Spencer to rub his hips up against.
He spreads his thighs wider so that there's more room for Brendon between his legs, then he wraps his heels around, trying to anchor Brendon to him. Brendon bruises him, but Spencer doesn't think the skin has broken yet.
He's sure of it when Brendon reaches up for his mouth again, and his lips don't taste like blood. Spencer lets Brendon kiss him, breathes only when the seal between their lips is broken, and by the time Brendon pulls away properly, Spencer's head is floating, light and warm and far away.
Brendon's teeth are back on his neck, and when they finally pierce the skin, Spencer shudders so hard the bed squeaks. He wraps his arms around Brendon's back, his calves along the backs of Brendon's knees, and he holds on as tightly as he can, because Brendon is sucking, and that surge is flooding his entire body, even stronger now than it was when Brendon drank from his arm. Light prickles white hot behind Spencer's eyes, and he thinks he's burning up from inside. Brendon's cool mouth on his skin is such a relief, Spencer can't stop pulling his head back, trying to offer up more skin to Brendon.
Brendon moves his mouth a little and bites down again. Spencer moans loudly, and he can't stop, rubbing up against Brendon as hard as he can, trying to pull Brendon down against himself. He moans and Brendon bites down again, hard, and it hurts, and Spencer can't stop moaning, clinging to Brendon's shoulders and writhing.
Spencer rocks closer and closer to the edge, riding high on a giant wave until everything goes sparkly around the edges, fading in and out. Brendon moves away and Spencer doesn't know why. Brendon pulls back, and then his hand comes out, cupping underneath Spencer's head, holding him gently, Brendon's other wrist pressing to Spencer's mouth, all wet and slippery against Spencer's lips until Spencer finally opens his mouth. Brendon's blood is cool and soothes the dry burn crawling underneath Spencer's skin. Spencer swallows and swallows, even though his can feel his body going limp, floating further and further away. That feeling sucks, because he wants to be able to continue to hold Brendon close, to keep him near, but Spencer's hands are a long way off, and he just lets them go, lets them fly away, lets the cool feeling sink into his body and closes his eyes.
--
Onto Epilogue.