Hey Pretty | Brendon/Shane & Brendon/Spencer/Shane | NC-17 | ~18000 words | AU | Part 1/2
Hey Pretty (don't you want to)
Brendon/Shane, Brendon/Spencer/Shane | NC-17 | ~ 17 750 words | AU
Brendon and Shane, vampire boyfriends, take on Spencer as their pet. Shenanigans ensue.
Warnings for Brendon and Shane deciding that Spencer is going to be their pet, so kidnapping and then weirdy consent stuff; some violence; a section that made airgiodslv say: LAURA I DO NOT LIKE THIS STORY ANYMORE. PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE IS NOT FUN; dirty sex; vampire-related blood stuff; some kink (Brendon and Shane are kinky boyfriends -- there isn't any weirdy consent stuff with regards to the kink); ... crack, idk.
Vampires are evil, yo!
Thanks so much to airgiodslv for letting me spam her with snippets while I was writing this. Thanks to sociofemme and airgiodslv for betaing. Thanks to the person who made this comment, which got me thinking about this in the first place.
Do do do, Evil and domestic vampire boyfriends. This story is set sometime after that time they got a kitten.
Title and cut tag come from the song Hey Pretty by Poe.
"I'm going to kill you with my brain," Spencer says.
"Oh! Can you do that?" Brendon asks.
"Not yet," Spencer replies darkly.
"He's adorable," Shane says, leaning down to kiss Brendon on the cheek. Brendon turns his head to the side and pecks Shane on the lips.
"I know."
"You can't keep me here indefinitely," Spencer says. "People will notice that I don't come home. I have friends."
"Of course you do, sweetpea," Brendon says.
"Spencer," Spencer says. "Does drinking blood make you mentally retarded? Call me by my motherfucking name."
"His cheeks go all pink when he's cranky," Brendon whispers to Shane.
Spencer's eyes widen dramatically. His nostrils flare.
"Calm down, pretty," Brendon says. "You're going to burst a blood vessel in your eye, and that is not the fun kind of bloodletting."
"Stop calling me pretty!" Spencer grits out.
"But you are pretty, prettything," Brendon says.
"That's bullshit," Spencer says. "I have a beard, motherfucker. Also, hello, living-in-a-glasshouse boy."
"I could grow a beard," Brendon sniffs, looking quickly at Shane.
"You could," Shane agrees. "He could," he tells Spencer, after Brendon pokes him in the side.
"Also, you're our pet," Brendon says. "I can call you whatever I want to call you."
"Such. Bullshit." Spencer crosses his arms. "I'm not your pet."
"Yes, you are," Brendon says.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not!"
"Yes, you--" Brendon cuts himself off when Shane reaches over to lace their fingers together.
"Spencer's probably not feeling too good because he's been cooped up in his bedroom all day," Shane says. He asks Spencer, "Do you want to go outside? Will you not cause such a fuss this time when we put you on a leash?"
Spencer glowers.
Brendon gives Shane a sharp look.
Shane sighs. "Of course we're not going to put him on your leash."
Brendon smiles.
"You're not putting me on any leash," Spencer says.
"But then how can we take you on a walk?" Brendon asks.
The muscle under Spencer's eye starts twitching.
--
-- * --
--
"Maybe we've been going about this wrong," Shane says. "If we wanted something to take on walks, we could have just gotten an animal pet."
"But not another kitten," Brendon says.
"Not another kitten," Shane agrees. "We wanted a human pet, though. And why?"
"So that our pet would be tasty and delicious!" Brendon says.
"Exactly."
"Spencer's not going to be tasty and delicious right now," Brendon laments. "He's all stressed out and angry."
Shane nods. "So, I guess we need to, like--"
"Fatten him up," Brendon finishes. "With our love."
"Maybe the collar thing wasn't such a bad idea," Shane says.
"The power of symbolic bondage is very strong," says Brendon. "We will woo him with our friendliness. And then he will be all tasty and delicious."
"Hopefully," Shane says.
"I think he will be," Brendon says. "He looks delicious. All soft, pale neck and--" Brendon trails off, licking his lips. His fangs have gotten pointy.
He glances over at Shane, and sees that Shane's already looking at him, staring at his mouth. Brendon swallows.
"We should go find dinner," Shane says. He's still looking at Brendon's mouth, and his eyes are starting to glow light green.
"Just a little something to take the edge off first?" Brendon sets his teeth into his bottom lip, dragging lightly to break the skin.
Shane makes a noise that rumbles in his chest, lunges forward to grab Brendon's upper arms and lick the blood off of Brendon's lip.
--
-- * --
--
They hadn't exactly planned on grabbing Spencer ("Oh, look at that one!" "The one with the hips?" "Yeah." "Yeah." "Let's go wait for him outside."), so they've been feeding him pizza for the last couple of days, because it's easy to order delivery through the night.
"We should get him some real food," Brendon says. He and Shane are sitting on a couch in the living room. The sounds of Spencer smashing shit in his bedroom are almost completely covered by the music they've turned on.
"I thought pizza was what humans liked to eat?" Shane says. "I wish that there had been pizza around when I was a human."
"I think that's just college students," Brendon says.
"Isn't Spencer a college student?" Shane asks.
"Oh, I didn't think he was," Brendon says. "He was out late on a Wednesday night. Isn't that a school night?"
"I think so," Shane says. "Kids these days don't really value education the same way, from what I can tell. Maybe he didn't have any classes in the morning."
"That's so weird," Brendon says. "I still think we should try to find him some other food."
--
"Prettyprettypretty, come here," Brendon calls, after he's unlocked the door to Spencer's bedroom. It was kind of a happy coincidence that there is a room in the house that locked from the outside, but coincidence implies that their ultimate plan wasn't to hold people captive there, and that's not the case, so maybe coincidence isn't the right word. It was good foresight and planning on their part, is what it was.
"You're demented," Spencer says.
"I prefer nefarious," says Brendon. "Also, what did you hope to accomplish by pushing the desk over? Was that helpful in any way? No, no it wasn't. Now there's just a broken desk in the middle of the room. The room where you live." Brendon shakes his head.
"This is not where I live," Spencer says. "This is where you are keeping me captive."
"Potato, potato," Brendon says. "Now, come here."
"I'm not going anywhere," Spencer says, crossing his arms.
"Yes, you are," Brendon says.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are!"
"No!"
"You are, even if I have to carry you," Brendon says. "I'm being nice here, so stop ruining it."
"You're being demented, and, dude, whatever, you could not carry me. You're, like, a mini-vampire. Vampire-lite."
Brendon gasps. "I am not."
"You're wearing the same jeans that my sisters have, only I'm pretty sure you're in a smaller size."
"I'm pretty sure we're wearing the same size jeans, princess," Brendon says, glaring pointedly at where Spencer's pants are stretched skin-tight over his thighs. "Also, I'm very strong."
He walks over to the desk, grabs the edge with one hand, and pulls it upright easily. The desk is solid oak - and now rather worse for the wear - and Brendon's mildly impressed that Spencer was able to get it pushed over in the first place.
Spencer now looks mildly impressed that Brendon's got it up again.
"Now, come," Brendon says.
Spencer follows.
--
"You can pick whatever you want," Brendon says, hovering over Spencer excitedly.
Spencer cranes his neck around. "Vampires use the internet?" He's sitting at the computer desk. Brendon's got the website for the local grocery store on the screen, the form to make online orders set up.
"We've very savvy," Brendon says. "Shane even figured out about cameras. He uses the computer to edit movies together." Brendon smiles smugly at Spencer. Shane's awesome.
Spencer doesn't look suitably impressed, but he does turn back around and starts clicking, so that's the main thing.
--
-- * --
--
"Your kitchen is completely empty," Spencer says after he's finished opening every single one of the cupboards and drawers.
"Umm, vampire," Shane says, pointing at himself.
Brendon raises his hand. "Also a vampire."
"Why did you get me to order all that food if you don't have any cooking implements?" Spencer asks, standing in the center of their kitchen with his arms crossed across his chest. "That's bullshit."
"He's cranky again," Brendon says, leaning his head against Shane's shoulder. "I really thought our plan was going to work."
Spencer stares at them with complete disgust. It makes Brendon want to pinch his cheeks.
"Listen, prettypet, we can order cooking shit online too, so calm yourself."
"Spencerrrr," Spencer says. "Spencer."
Shane starts grinning, and he turns to press his cheek against the top of Brendon's head.
"You need to order a microwave," Spencer says, after a long minute of glaring.
"There you go," Brendon says. "That wasn't so difficult."
"And three pounds of garlic," Spencer adds.
"He's so feisty," Shane says fondly.
Brendon snaps his teeth at Spencer.
--
-- * --
--
"You need to order a can opener."
--
-- * --
--
"You need to order a pot so that I can boil pasta."
--
-- * --
--
"You need to order a cheese grater."
--
-- * --
--
"You need to order--"
"How about we just give you the credit card?" Brendon says.
Spencer smiles sweetly. "That'll work."
--
Brendon runs off to find Shane, throwing himself at Shane and hugging him tightly.
"The pet is totally adjusting," he says, clinging to Shane.
"That's awesome!" Shane says. He hugs Brendon until Brendon's back cracks.
--
-- * --
--
"Umm, what is all this stuff?" Shane asks.
"Oh, drat," Brendon says.
--
"What's all this shit?" Brendon asks, standing in the doorway to Spencer's bedroom and glaring.
"I need it," Spencer says. "Why? Were you unable to pay off your credit card bill? Are the debt collectors going to be coming for you? Is your entire existence thrown into complete and utter turmoil?"
"You're a little bit of a psycho," Brendon says. He smiles to himself. Their pet is the best pet. "That's the credit card we use to order online stuff, though," he says. "With the low limit. You have to be careful about identity theft in this day and age."
Spencer sighs, disappointed.
"Good try," Brendon offers. "So does this mean that we can send the stuff back?"
"No," Spencer says. "I still need it."
Brendon lifts up one of the boxes. "Guitar Hero? What is this? Why do you need it?"
"Because it's fun," Spencer says. "My entire world has gone to hell and I need some distractions."
"I'm fun," Brendon protests. "We're fun."
"You killed three people last night. There's still blood in the hallway."
"That was fun!" Brendon says.
"I hope your carpets are stained," Spencer says meanly.
Brendon frowns. "Fine. We're keeping the fun games in the living room," he says. "So there."
--
-- * --
--
"What is this?" Shane asks.
Brendon flails his fingers, mashing keys on the plastic guitar. "Ahh," he says. "Ahhh, I don't know, stop talking you're going to make me lose!"
Shane sits quietly for a minute before saying, "I want to play next."
"There are two guitars," Brendon says.
--
"Star power, motherfucker. Star power."
"Calling me names isn't going to help anything."
"Tilt your fucking guitar."
"I am."
"Tilt it faster. Faster! All at once. One quick tilt."
"Fuck youuu."
...
"Well, great, we've used up our fucking star power on the section of long notes. That was very useful."
"I was trying to get us to use it earlier."
"And yet, here we are."
"You can't blame me for this!"
"And yet. Here we are."
"If you'd stop missing notes we could fill up our star power again faster."
"Oh, thanks for that. You're not getting any more than I am. Maybe if you talked less you'd actually strum with the beat. With the beat. With it. Do do do do."
"That's not helpful!"
--
-- * --
--
"Do you people never leave the house anymore?" Spencer asks, lingering in the entrance to the living room.
Brendon pauses the game and looks over at him. "Five more songs and then we'll have beaten co-op mode on hard," he says.
Spencer humphs.
"Why?" Brendon says, after a moment of silence. "Did you want a turn?"
"No," Spencer says, without vehemence.
"My wrist is getting sore," Shane says.
"Mine, too," Brendon chimes in.
"You could start a new campaign," Shane offers.
Spencer takes a step forward, hesitates, then walks into the room the rest of the way. "I guess," he says. "If you needed a break."
Brendon pulls the strap over his head and passes his guitar over to Spencer.
"We totally needed a break," he says, sincerely.
He and Shane sit on the couch and watch Spencer play.
--
-- * --
--
"Come, come," Brendon says, flinging open the door to Spencer's bedroom. "Come." He grabs Spencer's arm and trots down the hall.
"What?" Spencer complains, following along reluctantly.
Brendon pulls him to the front door and stops. "Look," he says, pointing at the door. "Look. Ta da!"
"What?" Spencer says. He makes that face he makes sometimes, the one that looks like, do you know that you're an idiot? Because I know that you're an idiot.
"The door," Brendon says, gesturing. He uses that voice he uses sometimes, the one that says, do you know you're an idiot for missing the obvious? Because I know.
"What the heck is that?" Spencer asks.
"A thumbprint-scanner-lock-thing-a-majig," Brendon says, using his dramatic voice. "Now we don't have to keep you locked in your bedroom! You can roam the house freely."
"How the hell do you have money for a biometric security system?" Spencer asks.
"We got out before the dot com bubble burst," Brendon says.
Spencer's eyes widen.
"Oh, it's nothing," Brendon says modestly. "We had a few troubles on Black Tuesday, and totally learned from our mistakes."
"You were around during the Great Depression?" Spencer asks.
Brendon shudders. "We were. Those were dark, dark times. Do you know how many people you have to eat to feel full when everyone's starving?"
Spencer covers his eyes and sighs.
"So many people!" Brendon says. "All that hunting. It was exhausting. Fortunately, there were so many drifters, it's not like we had to even worry about hiding the bodies."
"I'm shocked and disheartened to hear about how much you suffered," Spencer says.
Brendon mouths, Whatever.
Spencer rolls his eyes.
"My thumbprint opens the door and yours doesn't, so maybe you can just go cry me a river," Brendon says. "Ha!"
--
-- * --
--
Brendon arches forward, lifting up in his toes. He wraps his fingers around the rope that's holding his arms above his head and uses the leverage to lift himself up, kicking his feet off the ground.
Shane stops hitting him, and Brendon is already straightening his legs again when Shane starts saying, "Get. Back. Down."
"S-ry," Brendon mumbles through the gag. He flexes his shoulders, straightens his back and plants his feet more firmly on the floor.
"Actually, you know what, if you want to go up you can go up," Shane says. He drops the strap and walks over to where the end of the rope is looped around a hook on the wall. He starts pulling. The rope is threaded through the loop that's dangling from their ceiling, and as Shane shortens the slack, Brendon's arms are pulled up higher and higher until he has to stand up on his tippy toes. Shane loops the rope around the hook again, and Brendon dances on his toes, trying to find his balance.
Shane walks in front of Brendon. Like this, Brendon's just a little taller than he is. Shane pushes Brendon's sweaty hair off his forehead, then trails his fingers lightly down Brendon's sides. It tickles, and Brendon tries to jerk away. His arms arch as they're yanked at an even more uncomfortable angle.
Shane disappears for a moment and when he comes back, he's holding a thick, black butt plug.
"I'd tell you to get it wet," Shane says, "but I guess you can't right now, so you'll have to make do without."
Shane walks behind him, and Brendon whines when he feels Shane grab his ass with one hand, fingers digging in as he holds Brendon in one hand and starts pushing the plug in with the other. It's pretty big and not slick and Brendon isn't stretched, and Shane pushes with this firm, firm pressure. It doesn't go inside and doesn't go inside and even that hurts, and then Brendon exhales and the tip starts to slip past the resistance. Pain flares sharply. Brendon wants it in deeper. He wants it in all the way where it will feel good, but he can't relax like this. His whole body is tight with the effort to stay up on his toes, and Shane keeps pushing and the plug hardly moves except sometimes the pain spikes a little more sharply, and Brendon thinks that must mean it's gone in deeper.
Brendon's glad Shane gave him the cock ring because they've been playing for a while now, and sometimes Brendon can come just from this, from the sensation of being forced open. It hurts and he wants more. He can't get away, he's already up on the balls of his feet, as high up as he can get, and he can't push back because there's no give to the ropes. His arms burn and his wrists throb, but mostly his ass. There's this low feeling underneath everything. He's so close, and his cock hurts from being this close to the edge and his back hurts from when Shane was hitting him, and Shane's still forcing the toy inside and he's not going to stop until it's in, and Brendon just has to stand here and take it, and, fuck. Brendon closes his eyes.
He opens them again at the sound of the door opening. Spencer's standing at the entrance to the room, staring.
Shane stops putting as much pressure on the toy, and Brendon feels it slide out.
"Oh well," Shane says, not sounding sorry at all. "I guess you'll have to start over." He reaches up and taps the base of the toy against Brendon's fingers, up above his head. "You hold this," he says, and waits until Brendon grabs the toy before letting go.
Shane walks from behind Brendon and tells Spencer, "A closed door means that we're busy."
Spencer blinks, and flushes.
There's a long moment of silence. Brendon closes his eyes, trying to catch his balance. Everything feels more annoying all of the sudden. It's more difficult to stay like this now that he doesn't have Shane's full attention.
He starts wiggling around, and only stops when Shane grabs his hip with one hand.
He says, "Stop." Says, "We're not done yet," and Brendon nods.
When he looks up, he sees that Spencer is still staring at him. Spencer's shoulders are pulled back, his hands curled into fists at his sides.
Shane's been watching him, but he turns his head and notices Spencer.
"Nice try, little buddy," Shane says, grabbing Spencer's shoulder and steering him toward the doorway.
"What are you guys doing?" Spencer asks as he lets Shane lead him out.
"Adult fun," Shane says. "Goodbye, I'm closing the door now."
He pushes the door shut then turns back to Brendon.
Brendon's not making as much fuss as before, but he's still squirming around.
He looks at Shane and makes a sad, I've lost the moment, face.
Shane stares back. He slides his eyes over to the side of the room where their box of toys is pushed up against the wall. He raises his eyebrows, So I'll take you back down.
Brendon flops his wrist, trying to draw Shane's attention back to the toy he's holding.
Shane gives Brendon an unimpressed look.
Shane keeps staring at him, waiting and watching and Brendon feels himself start to calm down.
He makes a, This gag is really big and I'm starting to drool all over the place, face.
Shane smiles.
--
"I'm not going to be able to sleep for a while," Brendon says, lying beside Shane. They've done a barely perfunctory job at cleaning themselves up and there are still ropes hanging from the ceiling. Brendon feels like he's swimming, the endorphin rush is so high.
"You want to go watch TV?" Shane asks.
"You can stay if you want to sleep," Brendon offers.
Shane slaps his hip, just gently, but Brendon still gasps. His skin feels really sensitive. He wiggles, trying to get Shane to tighten his grip.
"I'm not going to sleep," Shane says, rolling his eyes, then smiling fondly at Brendon. Brendon beams back at him.
Shane pulls on some sweats; Brendon just wraps a blanket around his shoulders. They make their way to the living room.
Spencer's already sitting on the couch, watching TV.
He makes a little, Ack, sound when he sees them walk into the room.
"Hi, precious," Brendon says, sitting down on the couch beside him. Shane sits down beside Brendon and Brendon immediately starts squirming around so that his and Shane's bodies fit closer together.
"Hi," Spencer says. He passes the remote over. Brendon pulls his hands back and lets Shane take it from Spencer.
"What were you watching?" Shane asks.
"Infomercials," Spencer says. "Do you feel like maybe our lives have been a little meaningless because we don't have a blender that also doubles as a juicer?"
"Ah," Shane says. "So that's what it was."
"Try and find something better to watch," Spencer says.
Shane flips around for a while, but he eventually takes them back to the original channel.
"So," Spencer says after a number of minutes. "Long night?"
Brendon grins, mostly to himself. "Good night," he says.
Spencer shakes his head, looking at Brendon incredulously. Brendon sighs happily. He shifts around, holding the blanket around his body even though more of his limbs than not remain uncovered, until he's leaning back against Shane. He lifts his legs onto Spencer's lap.
Shane's arms come to wrap around his torso, and he turns so that Brendon can settle back against him more comfortably.
After a moment, Spencer settles into it too, his warm hand coming to wrap around Brendon's bare calf.
--
-- * --
--
"What are you making?" Brendon asks, coming up behind Spencer.
Spencer's standing in front of the stove. "Just stir fry," he says.
"Smells good."
"Umm, thanks," says Spencer. "Do you, um, I mean. Can you even eat?"
"We can," Brendon says. "It's just not really--"
"How does it even-- work?" Spencer asks, staring down at the frying pan and pushing around vegetables with the wooden spatula.
"You know how blood carries around all of the good stuff to your organs?"
"Yeah."
"So, we drink blood and then we get all of the good stuff."
"Huh," Spencer says. "Does it matter what kind of blood you drink?"
"Sure," Brendon says. "If someone's malnourished, it's not like it's going to do a lot of good to drink from them. It's better if they're all healthy and happy."
Spencer's hand freezes.
"Eat up," Brendon says, clasping Spencer on the shoulder and leaving him to finish cooking.
--
-- * --
--
Brendon and Shane are in the middle of rearranging the furniture in the den - it'll be better with the couch facing the door, instead of pushed up against the side wall -when Spencer clears his throat, announcing his presence.
Brendon puts down the coffee table and looks up.
Spencer is silent for a long moment before he bursts out with, "You've been keeping me for weeks. Weeks! When are you going to do something?"
"Do you want us to do something?" Brendon asks, raising his eyebrows. He shares an anticipatory look with Shane.
"No!" Spencer snaps. "I just-- This level of suspense is entirely unnecessarily. It's bullshit!"
"It's not suspense," Shane says.
Brendon shakes his head in agreement. "You're our pet," he says. He doesn't get why that's so hard for Spencer to understand.
"Is this some kind of perverse psychological torture?" Spencer asks. "If you're going to kill me, you should cut the bullshit and just do it already."
"We're not going to kill you," Shane says.
"Pets are for nibbling," Brendon explains. "Not for draining."
Spencer makes a little wrinkly face and gives them dubious looks.
"We're so patient," Brendon assures him. "And friendly, as you've surely noticed."
"And it's not like it's hard to find people to eat," Shane says.
"So, instead of... nibbling on me, you're killing other people?" Spencer asks.
Brendon exchanges a look with Shane.
"Something like that," Shane says.
"Oh," Spencer says.
"Do you like the couch better over here?" Brendon asks. "I feel like maybe the room looks lopsided now."
Spencer stares up at the ceiling for a long time before he looks back at the room again.
"You should move the armchair over there," he mutters, then walks away.
--
-- * --
--
Shane's hands dig into Brendon's lower back, pulling him in, holding him close.
Brendon grinds his hips in slow circles. He feathers kisses across Shane's jaw before whispering, "I can't move like this."
Shane's hands reluctantly loosen, finally moving up to rest on Brendon's shoulders.
"Sorry," Shane says. He tips his head back and squeezes his eyes closed at Brendon's first full stroke.
Brendon holds himself up over Shane, arching his back so that their bellies brush together, Shane's cock trapped between them.
"Brendon," Shane mouths, his head moving from side to side on the pillow. "Fuck. Please."
Brendon kisses the crease between Shane's eyebrows. He says, "Touch yourself," and pulls back a little to give Shane room to move his hand down.
Shane curses when he gets his hand around his erection. He says again, "Brendon," wiggling his hips to meet Brendon's thrusts as best he can.
Brendon speeds up a little, and Shane murmurs appreciatively.
He opens his eyes. Looks up and says, "I love you."
Brendon grinds in hard, says, "Love you." He starts fucking Shane quickly. He says again, "Love you." Asks, "Are you--?"
Shane nods quickly, the lines in his neck standing out in sharp definition. He groans softly, shaking through orgasm as Brendon comes inside of him, their bodies jerking together.
Brendon drops his forehead to rest against Shane's collarbone, panting shallowly. He closes his eyes, breathes in the scent of Shane's skin. He ducks to press a kiss just above Shane's nipple before raising his head again.
Shane's hand comes up, cupping the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon says, "I love you." Shane hums his agreement before pulling Brendon down for a kiss.
Eventually, Brendon rolls off, settling on the bed beside Shane. He's facing the door, and from across Shane's shoulder, he thinks he can see movement. They've left the door open. He listens, and he thinks he can hear movement, but it's hard to be sure, and it doesn't really matter either way. They've filmed themselves lots of times; he knows they look good while fucking.
He kisses Shane's shoulder and wraps his arm around Shane's chest.
--
-- * --
--
Brendon lifts up the box that's just been delivered, raising an eyebrow. "Don't we already own Guitar Hero?"
"Encore," Spencer says. "Rocks the 80s!"
"Ooh, more songs for us to beat?" Brendon asks, lighting up.
"More songs," Spencer agrees.
Brendon dashes off to the living room, the box ducked under his arm. He doubles back after passing Spencer, and gives him a quick squeeze with his free arm.
"This is awesome, pretty one," he says. "Good thinking."
Spencer rolls his eyes, but he doesn't flinch away.
Brendon lets go and starts calling out, "Shane! Shane, more songs to play! Shane!"
Spencer trails behind him. "You have to share," he says.
Brendon turns his head to grin at Spencer over his shoulder. "Don't worry," he says. "No one's going to forget about you."
--
-- * --
--
The blood is gushing into his mouth faster than he can swallow it. It slides past his lips and down his neck.
Brendon takes a couple more gulps before giving up. He shoves the body away.
"I want a new one," he tells Shane. "I bit down too hard." He takes a step backwards. The body is bleeding onto the floor and it's going to get his shoes dirty soon. His shirt can be thrown away, but he liked these shoes.
Shane looks up. His eyes are glowing dark yellow, and his mouth is wet and red. He doesn't have a mess all over his face though. Brendon wipes at his chin with the back of his hand, then licks it off.
"You want to share this one?" Shane offers. He's drinking from a girl with long brown hair.
"How much is left?" Brendon asks.
Shane licks his lips. "I dunno. She's still alive." In demonstration, the girl starts struggling weakly. Shane gathers up her hair in one hand and uses it to yank her head to the side. She doesn't stop struggling, but now there's room for Brendon to come up behind her.
He pecks Shane on the lips in thank you, then bends to the girl's neck. He bites down just over from where Shane had bitten, carefully this time.
He only raises his head again when he feels Shane nuzzling his cheek. Brendon sucks hard, filling his mouth with blood, then presses his lips to Shane's, sealing their mouths together and feeding his mouthful to Shane. Shane swallows, licks the taste off of Brendon's tongue, continues fucking his tongue into Brendon's mouth long after the blood is gone.
When he pulls away, Shane says, "Let's find another one."
Brendon isn't hungry anymore, but he says, "Yeah."
--
They come home and find Spencer on the couch in the front room, flipping through a magazine.
He smiles when he sees them, but his expression changes quickly.
"You're covered in blood," he says, flatly.
"Brendon's covered in blood," Shane clarifies.
"Um, no, it's both of you," Spencer says.
Shane looks down. His shirt isn't drenched, but there are a couple of red patches.
"Well, only because of Brendon," Shane says.
Brendon shrugs. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head.
"Better?" he asks.
Shane slides his hand across Brendon's lower back, cupping his hand over Brendon's hip. He rubs his cheek over Brendon's now-bare shoulder, and hums, mm hm.
Spencer throws the magazine on the floor and storms past them, muttering, "You don't have to be so blatant about it," as he passes.
Shane leaves one arm wrapped around Brendon, but reaches for Spencer with his other hand.
"What?" he asks, holding onto Spencer's wrist so that he can't leave.
Spencer jiggles his hand, but he doesn't try too hard to get away.
"You're all, 'Oh, look at me, I just killed a bunch of people,'" says Spencer.
"It wasn't a bunch," Brendon says. He mouths, Three? to Shane, who mouths back, Four. "Three and a half," Brendon says, "is not a bunch."
Spencer doesn't look soothed.
"Don't be ornery, precious," Brendon says. "We have to eat."
"Do you want to play Rock Band?" Shane asks. Brendon can see the movement of his thumb, rubbing slowly up and down the soft skin of Spencer's inner wrist.
Spencer doesn't answer, but when Shane coaxes, "You can play drums," he allows himself to be led to the living room.
--
-- * --
--
"Motherfucker!"
Shane looks up.
Brendon lifts his arm, showing the spot on his sleeve. "My favorite jacket! Ruined!"
"We can take it the the dry cleaners," Shane says. "Maybe they can get the stain out."
"Blood's so hard to remove once it has set," Brendon says.
Shane reaches out and pinches Brendon's pouty lower lip, then replaces his fingers with his mouth.
"We'll go shopping for a new jacket," Shane says. "You should get a black one. It was just a matter of time before that jacket got stained, especially because you've been wearing it nonstop."
"Just because you like wearing all black doesn't mean I have to," Brendon says.
"Black doesn't stain," says Shane.
"Well. Yes, okay, fair enough. Still. My jacket."
Shane kisses him again.
"You want to borrow one of my coats to wear tonight?" Shane asks.
They're rummaging through the closet when Spencer comes into the entrance.
"Where are you going?" Spencer asks.
Brendon turns.
"Where do you think we're going?" Shane asks.
Spencer says, "But, you just went out last night."
"And now we're hungry again," says Brendon.
"You killed four people last night!"
"Three and a half," Brendon corrects.
"Brendon's a bit distracting sometimes," Shane says, nudging Brendon with his elbow.
Brendon grins to himself, then reaches for Shane's hand, lacing their fingers together.
"We didn't actually eat all that much," Shane finishes.
Spencer opens his mouth, but doesn't say anything, so Brendon turns back to the closet to continue finding a coat.
He laces up his shoes, grabs his wallet and puts it in his back pocket.
"You ready?" he asks Shane.
"Yup," Shane says.
Brendon is reaching for the door handle when Spencer finally blurts out, "Stop."
Brendon drops his hand and turns around. He tilts his head and waits.
"Don't go kill people," Spencer says. His face is flushed.
"We've got to eat," Brendon says, dragging out the words a little.
"Okay," Spencer snaps. "Jesus. Okay. Fine."
"Fine, what?"
"Don't be a jerk," Spencer says. He doesn't sound angry anymore.
Brendon looks at Shane.
"Well," Shane says.
"Since you offered so nicely," Brendon continues.
Shane starts unbuttoning his coat, and Brendon bends to untie his shoes.
Brendon asks, "Where do you want to do this?" Spencer's slouching and leaning against the wall as he waits for them to finish taking off their coats and shoes.
Spencer shrugs. His shoulders are already up around his ears, so it's only a very small movement.
Brendon walks over to him, touching the tips of his fingers to Spencer's arm, just above his elbow. Spencer lets Brendon guide him away from the wall, but once they're standing in the hallway, Brendon pauses, waiting for Spencer to answer.
"Where do you want to go?" Shane asks. He comes up on Spencer's other side. Brendon can see Shane rubbing his knuckles lightly over the back of Spencer's neck.
Spencer stands quietly for a minute, before taking a tiny step forward, twitching away.
Brendon and Shane take a step in unison so that they continue touching him.
Spencer twitches a little harder.
"Stop it," he says. "It's too brides of the night when you do the creepy simultaneous thing."
Brendon glances over Spencer's shoulder and grins at Shane. He says, "We're," and Shane finishes, "Sorry."
Spencer huffs. "You're hilarious."
"Sweetheart," Brendon says, rubbing his hand up the back of Spencer's arm. "Where do you want to go?"
"It doesn't matter," Spencer says. His fingers twitch at his side.
Shane says, "It does matter."
Brendon says, "We want you to be comfortable."
Spencer rolls his shoulders. He's still slouched, but not so much as to make him shorter than Brendon anymore.
"The den, I guess," Spencer says.
Shane rubs his thumb over the nape of Spencer's neck. "Whatever you want."
--
Brendon sits on the couch and pulls Spencer down beside him. Spencer sits with his feet flat on the floor, his back pressed to the couch. Brendon turns sideways, drawing one leg up to his chest. He wraps his arm around his leg and leans against Spencer.
"Relax," he says, rubbing his cheek against Spencer's shoulder.
"Are you going to rock-paper-scissors over who gets to go first?" Spencer asks. He's trying to make a joke, but there isn't much humour in his voice.
"Shane's going to go first," Brendon says. He'd like to go first, but he knows it'll be better if it's Shane; Shane's better at being careful than Brendon is.
"Okay," Spencer says in a small voice. "I don't know, ah."
Brendon glances at Shane, who nods.
"Come here, pretty thing," Brendon says. He spreads his legs, one dangling off the side of the couch, the other bent against the back of the couch, and pulls Spencer backwards. "Lean against me. There you go, now give your arm to Shane, prettypretty."
Spencer's back is just barely touching Brendon's chest. He holds himself tightly, pausing for a moment before raising his arm toward Shane. Brendon wraps his arm around Spencer's side, opening his palm over Spencer's chest. He can feel the frantic fluttering of Spencer's heart.
"Calm," Brendon reminds him. "Be calm, sweet one."
"I'm trying," Spencer says, choking out something like a laugh.
"Shane's so good," Brendon assures him.
Brendon watches over Spencer's shoulder. Shane smiles at Spencer, tracing over the veins in Spencer's inner arm with the tips of his fingers. He trails his hand up from Spencer's wrist to the crook of his elbow and then back down again.
Shane lifts Spencer's arm and Spencer gets even tenser.
Brendon makes shushing noises in Spencer's ear, resting his chin on Spencer's shoulder so that he can watch. "No, it's okay, just relax," he murmurs. "It's okay, it's going to feel so good."
Shane opens his mouth, and Spencer's shoulders rise up. Brendon nuzzles his head against Spencer's cheek, trying to get him to loosen up.
"He's going to go slow," Brendon says. "So slow, it's okay, it feels good."
Shane bites down and Spencer's body jerks. He inhales sharply.
"There you go," Brendon says. He rubs his nose behind Spencer's ear. Spencer tilts his head forward to give Brendon more room, and Brendon kisses his neck softly. "There you go, just like that, stop trying to pull away from him."
Spencer exhales shakily.
Brendon watches Shane's jaw flex, his mouth opening wider. Shane makes a low noise, and Brendon hisses.
Spencer squirms, but not away from Shane. Brendon sees Shane move his mouth up a little, sees him bite down again, and he can feel Spencer arching against him.
"Yeah, yeah, see, there you go," Brendon says. "It's good, his mouth, it feels good, it's so good."
Spencer reaches down with his free hand, groping until he finds Brendon's leg. His fingers wrap around Brendon's leg, just above his knee. Brendon strokes his hand down Spencer's chest, kisses his neck again, then opens his mouth wider and starts to bite.
Spencer makes this, "Uh," sound the whole time that Brendon's biting, "Uh, uh, uh," little bubbles of sound. His fingers scrabble around on Brendon's leg, but he doesn't let go, just reaches for a better grip, clinging tightly.
Brendon bites steadily until he tastes blood, hums happily into Spencer's neck. He drinks slowly. He feels Spencer squirming on the couch.
Brendon continues holding Spencer with one arm, and reaches for Shane with the other, reaching his hand forward and waiting until Shane's fingers wrap around him.
The wound on Spencer's neck starts to clot, and he moves down to bite again, a little bit harder this time, a little bit sharper. Spencer makes a high, breathy sound. He tastes even better than Brendon thought he would.
Brendon drinks and drinks until Shane says, "Brendon," giving his hand a warning squeeze.
Brendon licks up the rest of the blood, then pulls away reluctantly. He raises his head, and sees Shane staring up at him, all sharp teeth and glowing eyes. Shane's got a smudge of blood on the corner of his mouth. Brendon licks his lips again.
He lets go of Shane's hand, and starts manoeuvring himself out from behind Spencer. He holds Spencer's shoulders and lowers him down so that he's lying on the couch.
Spencer goes easily, blinking up at him. He looks dazed.
"Thanks, lovely," Brendon says, bending to smack his lips wetly over Spencer's forehead.
Shane rises off the couch, and they head toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Spencer asks. He pushes himself up with one arm, but doesn't make it to a completely upright position.
Brendon turns around, standing at the doorway. "Places to go, people to eat," he says.
Spencer blanches, balling his hands into fists. "But-- You just--"
Brendon reaches for Shane, lacing their fingers together. "You're sweet," he tells Spencer. "And delicious. And we only took a few mouthfuls."
"Try to sleep," Shane says. "Rest up."
Spencer opens and closes his mouth a few times. His cheeks are flushed red, which is especially noticeable given that his skin is even paler than normal.
Brendon wiggles his fingers goodbye then closes the door.
They're only a few feet down the hall before Shane grabs his hip, pushing him up against the wall. Brendon groans softly upon impact.
Shane licks a line up his throat before biting down. When he lifts his head up, his mouth is wet and red.
Shane says, "You taste like him."
Brendon feels the blood from the bite bead up and start to trail down his neck. He lifts his chin, exposing his throat, and Shane ducks down to lick the blood away. Shane grazes his teeth over the puncture marks, and pain flares sharply. Brendon moans, his hip jerking forward.
Shane drags his lips up, kisses over Brendon's jaw before meeting Brendon's lips. Brendon bites Shane's lip, hard. Their mouths slide wetly together, Brendon tastes Shane and Spencer and himself.
--
-- * --
--
Part Two
Brendon/Shane, Brendon/Spencer/Shane | NC-17 | ~ 17 750 words | AU
Brendon and Shane, vampire boyfriends, take on Spencer as their pet. Shenanigans ensue.
Warnings for Brendon and Shane deciding that Spencer is going to be their pet, so kidnapping and then weirdy consent stuff; some violence; a section that made airgiodslv say: LAURA I DO NOT LIKE THIS STORY ANYMORE. PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE IS NOT FUN; dirty sex; vampire-related blood stuff; some kink (Brendon and Shane are kinky boyfriends -- there isn't any weirdy consent stuff with regards to the kink); ... crack, idk.
Vampires are evil, yo!
Thanks so much to airgiodslv for letting me spam her with snippets while I was writing this. Thanks to sociofemme and airgiodslv for betaing. Thanks to the person who made this comment, which got me thinking about this in the first place.
Do do do, Evil and domestic vampire boyfriends. This story is set sometime after that time they got a kitten.
Title and cut tag come from the song Hey Pretty by Poe.
"I'm going to kill you with my brain," Spencer says.
"Oh! Can you do that?" Brendon asks.
"Not yet," Spencer replies darkly.
"He's adorable," Shane says, leaning down to kiss Brendon on the cheek. Brendon turns his head to the side and pecks Shane on the lips.
"I know."
"You can't keep me here indefinitely," Spencer says. "People will notice that I don't come home. I have friends."
"Of course you do, sweetpea," Brendon says.
"Spencer," Spencer says. "Does drinking blood make you mentally retarded? Call me by my motherfucking name."
"His cheeks go all pink when he's cranky," Brendon whispers to Shane.
Spencer's eyes widen dramatically. His nostrils flare.
"Calm down, pretty," Brendon says. "You're going to burst a blood vessel in your eye, and that is not the fun kind of bloodletting."
"Stop calling me pretty!" Spencer grits out.
"But you are pretty, prettything," Brendon says.
"That's bullshit," Spencer says. "I have a beard, motherfucker. Also, hello, living-in-a-glasshouse boy."
"I could grow a beard," Brendon sniffs, looking quickly at Shane.
"You could," Shane agrees. "He could," he tells Spencer, after Brendon pokes him in the side.
"Also, you're our pet," Brendon says. "I can call you whatever I want to call you."
"Such. Bullshit." Spencer crosses his arms. "I'm not your pet."
"Yes, you are," Brendon says.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not!"
"Yes, you--" Brendon cuts himself off when Shane reaches over to lace their fingers together.
"Spencer's probably not feeling too good because he's been cooped up in his bedroom all day," Shane says. He asks Spencer, "Do you want to go outside? Will you not cause such a fuss this time when we put you on a leash?"
Spencer glowers.
Brendon gives Shane a sharp look.
Shane sighs. "Of course we're not going to put him on your leash."
Brendon smiles.
"You're not putting me on any leash," Spencer says.
"But then how can we take you on a walk?" Brendon asks.
The muscle under Spencer's eye starts twitching.
--
-- * --
--
"Maybe we've been going about this wrong," Shane says. "If we wanted something to take on walks, we could have just gotten an animal pet."
"But not another kitten," Brendon says.
"Not another kitten," Shane agrees. "We wanted a human pet, though. And why?"
"So that our pet would be tasty and delicious!" Brendon says.
"Exactly."
"Spencer's not going to be tasty and delicious right now," Brendon laments. "He's all stressed out and angry."
Shane nods. "So, I guess we need to, like--"
"Fatten him up," Brendon finishes. "With our love."
"Maybe the collar thing wasn't such a bad idea," Shane says.
"The power of symbolic bondage is very strong," says Brendon. "We will woo him with our friendliness. And then he will be all tasty and delicious."
"Hopefully," Shane says.
"I think he will be," Brendon says. "He looks delicious. All soft, pale neck and--" Brendon trails off, licking his lips. His fangs have gotten pointy.
He glances over at Shane, and sees that Shane's already looking at him, staring at his mouth. Brendon swallows.
"We should go find dinner," Shane says. He's still looking at Brendon's mouth, and his eyes are starting to glow light green.
"Just a little something to take the edge off first?" Brendon sets his teeth into his bottom lip, dragging lightly to break the skin.
Shane makes a noise that rumbles in his chest, lunges forward to grab Brendon's upper arms and lick the blood off of Brendon's lip.
--
-- * --
--
They hadn't exactly planned on grabbing Spencer ("Oh, look at that one!" "The one with the hips?" "Yeah." "Yeah." "Let's go wait for him outside."), so they've been feeding him pizza for the last couple of days, because it's easy to order delivery through the night.
"We should get him some real food," Brendon says. He and Shane are sitting on a couch in the living room. The sounds of Spencer smashing shit in his bedroom are almost completely covered by the music they've turned on.
"I thought pizza was what humans liked to eat?" Shane says. "I wish that there had been pizza around when I was a human."
"I think that's just college students," Brendon says.
"Isn't Spencer a college student?" Shane asks.
"Oh, I didn't think he was," Brendon says. "He was out late on a Wednesday night. Isn't that a school night?"
"I think so," Shane says. "Kids these days don't really value education the same way, from what I can tell. Maybe he didn't have any classes in the morning."
"That's so weird," Brendon says. "I still think we should try to find him some other food."
--
"Prettyprettypretty, come here," Brendon calls, after he's unlocked the door to Spencer's bedroom. It was kind of a happy coincidence that there is a room in the house that locked from the outside, but coincidence implies that their ultimate plan wasn't to hold people captive there, and that's not the case, so maybe coincidence isn't the right word. It was good foresight and planning on their part, is what it was.
"You're demented," Spencer says.
"I prefer nefarious," says Brendon. "Also, what did you hope to accomplish by pushing the desk over? Was that helpful in any way? No, no it wasn't. Now there's just a broken desk in the middle of the room. The room where you live." Brendon shakes his head.
"This is not where I live," Spencer says. "This is where you are keeping me captive."
"Potato, potato," Brendon says. "Now, come here."
"I'm not going anywhere," Spencer says, crossing his arms.
"Yes, you are," Brendon says.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are!"
"No!"
"You are, even if I have to carry you," Brendon says. "I'm being nice here, so stop ruining it."
"You're being demented, and, dude, whatever, you could not carry me. You're, like, a mini-vampire. Vampire-lite."
Brendon gasps. "I am not."
"You're wearing the same jeans that my sisters have, only I'm pretty sure you're in a smaller size."
"I'm pretty sure we're wearing the same size jeans, princess," Brendon says, glaring pointedly at where Spencer's pants are stretched skin-tight over his thighs. "Also, I'm very strong."
He walks over to the desk, grabs the edge with one hand, and pulls it upright easily. The desk is solid oak - and now rather worse for the wear - and Brendon's mildly impressed that Spencer was able to get it pushed over in the first place.
Spencer now looks mildly impressed that Brendon's got it up again.
"Now, come," Brendon says.
Spencer follows.
--
"You can pick whatever you want," Brendon says, hovering over Spencer excitedly.
Spencer cranes his neck around. "Vampires use the internet?" He's sitting at the computer desk. Brendon's got the website for the local grocery store on the screen, the form to make online orders set up.
"We've very savvy," Brendon says. "Shane even figured out about cameras. He uses the computer to edit movies together." Brendon smiles smugly at Spencer. Shane's awesome.
Spencer doesn't look suitably impressed, but he does turn back around and starts clicking, so that's the main thing.
--
-- * --
--
"Your kitchen is completely empty," Spencer says after he's finished opening every single one of the cupboards and drawers.
"Umm, vampire," Shane says, pointing at himself.
Brendon raises his hand. "Also a vampire."
"Why did you get me to order all that food if you don't have any cooking implements?" Spencer asks, standing in the center of their kitchen with his arms crossed across his chest. "That's bullshit."
"He's cranky again," Brendon says, leaning his head against Shane's shoulder. "I really thought our plan was going to work."
Spencer stares at them with complete disgust. It makes Brendon want to pinch his cheeks.
"Listen, prettypet, we can order cooking shit online too, so calm yourself."
"Spencerrrr," Spencer says. "Spencer."
Shane starts grinning, and he turns to press his cheek against the top of Brendon's head.
"You need to order a microwave," Spencer says, after a long minute of glaring.
"There you go," Brendon says. "That wasn't so difficult."
"And three pounds of garlic," Spencer adds.
"He's so feisty," Shane says fondly.
Brendon snaps his teeth at Spencer.
--
-- * --
--
"You need to order a can opener."
--
-- * --
--
"You need to order a pot so that I can boil pasta."
--
-- * --
--
"You need to order a cheese grater."
--
-- * --
--
"You need to order--"
"How about we just give you the credit card?" Brendon says.
Spencer smiles sweetly. "That'll work."
--
Brendon runs off to find Shane, throwing himself at Shane and hugging him tightly.
"The pet is totally adjusting," he says, clinging to Shane.
"That's awesome!" Shane says. He hugs Brendon until Brendon's back cracks.
--
-- * --
--
"Umm, what is all this stuff?" Shane asks.
"Oh, drat," Brendon says.
--
"What's all this shit?" Brendon asks, standing in the doorway to Spencer's bedroom and glaring.
"I need it," Spencer says. "Why? Were you unable to pay off your credit card bill? Are the debt collectors going to be coming for you? Is your entire existence thrown into complete and utter turmoil?"
"You're a little bit of a psycho," Brendon says. He smiles to himself. Their pet is the best pet. "That's the credit card we use to order online stuff, though," he says. "With the low limit. You have to be careful about identity theft in this day and age."
Spencer sighs, disappointed.
"Good try," Brendon offers. "So does this mean that we can send the stuff back?"
"No," Spencer says. "I still need it."
Brendon lifts up one of the boxes. "Guitar Hero? What is this? Why do you need it?"
"Because it's fun," Spencer says. "My entire world has gone to hell and I need some distractions."
"I'm fun," Brendon protests. "We're fun."
"You killed three people last night. There's still blood in the hallway."
"That was fun!" Brendon says.
"I hope your carpets are stained," Spencer says meanly.
Brendon frowns. "Fine. We're keeping the fun games in the living room," he says. "So there."
--
-- * --
--
"What is this?" Shane asks.
Brendon flails his fingers, mashing keys on the plastic guitar. "Ahh," he says. "Ahhh, I don't know, stop talking you're going to make me lose!"
Shane sits quietly for a minute before saying, "I want to play next."
"There are two guitars," Brendon says.
--
"Star power, motherfucker. Star power."
"Calling me names isn't going to help anything."
"Tilt your fucking guitar."
"I am."
"Tilt it faster. Faster! All at once. One quick tilt."
"Fuck youuu."
...
"Well, great, we've used up our fucking star power on the section of long notes. That was very useful."
"I was trying to get us to use it earlier."
"And yet, here we are."
"You can't blame me for this!"
"And yet. Here we are."
"If you'd stop missing notes we could fill up our star power again faster."
"Oh, thanks for that. You're not getting any more than I am. Maybe if you talked less you'd actually strum with the beat. With the beat. With it. Do do do do."
"That's not helpful!"
--
-- * --
--
"Do you people never leave the house anymore?" Spencer asks, lingering in the entrance to the living room.
Brendon pauses the game and looks over at him. "Five more songs and then we'll have beaten co-op mode on hard," he says.
Spencer humphs.
"Why?" Brendon says, after a moment of silence. "Did you want a turn?"
"No," Spencer says, without vehemence.
"My wrist is getting sore," Shane says.
"Mine, too," Brendon chimes in.
"You could start a new campaign," Shane offers.
Spencer takes a step forward, hesitates, then walks into the room the rest of the way. "I guess," he says. "If you needed a break."
Brendon pulls the strap over his head and passes his guitar over to Spencer.
"We totally needed a break," he says, sincerely.
He and Shane sit on the couch and watch Spencer play.
--
-- * --
--
"Come, come," Brendon says, flinging open the door to Spencer's bedroom. "Come." He grabs Spencer's arm and trots down the hall.
"What?" Spencer complains, following along reluctantly.
Brendon pulls him to the front door and stops. "Look," he says, pointing at the door. "Look. Ta da!"
"What?" Spencer says. He makes that face he makes sometimes, the one that looks like, do you know that you're an idiot? Because I know that you're an idiot.
"The door," Brendon says, gesturing. He uses that voice he uses sometimes, the one that says, do you know you're an idiot for missing the obvious? Because I know.
"What the heck is that?" Spencer asks.
"A thumbprint-scanner-lock-thing-a-majig," Brendon says, using his dramatic voice. "Now we don't have to keep you locked in your bedroom! You can roam the house freely."
"How the hell do you have money for a biometric security system?" Spencer asks.
"We got out before the dot com bubble burst," Brendon says.
Spencer's eyes widen.
"Oh, it's nothing," Brendon says modestly. "We had a few troubles on Black Tuesday, and totally learned from our mistakes."
"You were around during the Great Depression?" Spencer asks.
Brendon shudders. "We were. Those were dark, dark times. Do you know how many people you have to eat to feel full when everyone's starving?"
Spencer covers his eyes and sighs.
"So many people!" Brendon says. "All that hunting. It was exhausting. Fortunately, there were so many drifters, it's not like we had to even worry about hiding the bodies."
"I'm shocked and disheartened to hear about how much you suffered," Spencer says.
Brendon mouths, Whatever.
Spencer rolls his eyes.
"My thumbprint opens the door and yours doesn't, so maybe you can just go cry me a river," Brendon says. "Ha!"
--
-- * --
--
Brendon arches forward, lifting up in his toes. He wraps his fingers around the rope that's holding his arms above his head and uses the leverage to lift himself up, kicking his feet off the ground.
Shane stops hitting him, and Brendon is already straightening his legs again when Shane starts saying, "Get. Back. Down."
"S-ry," Brendon mumbles through the gag. He flexes his shoulders, straightens his back and plants his feet more firmly on the floor.
"Actually, you know what, if you want to go up you can go up," Shane says. He drops the strap and walks over to where the end of the rope is looped around a hook on the wall. He starts pulling. The rope is threaded through the loop that's dangling from their ceiling, and as Shane shortens the slack, Brendon's arms are pulled up higher and higher until he has to stand up on his tippy toes. Shane loops the rope around the hook again, and Brendon dances on his toes, trying to find his balance.
Shane walks in front of Brendon. Like this, Brendon's just a little taller than he is. Shane pushes Brendon's sweaty hair off his forehead, then trails his fingers lightly down Brendon's sides. It tickles, and Brendon tries to jerk away. His arms arch as they're yanked at an even more uncomfortable angle.
Shane disappears for a moment and when he comes back, he's holding a thick, black butt plug.
"I'd tell you to get it wet," Shane says, "but I guess you can't right now, so you'll have to make do without."
Shane walks behind him, and Brendon whines when he feels Shane grab his ass with one hand, fingers digging in as he holds Brendon in one hand and starts pushing the plug in with the other. It's pretty big and not slick and Brendon isn't stretched, and Shane pushes with this firm, firm pressure. It doesn't go inside and doesn't go inside and even that hurts, and then Brendon exhales and the tip starts to slip past the resistance. Pain flares sharply. Brendon wants it in deeper. He wants it in all the way where it will feel good, but he can't relax like this. His whole body is tight with the effort to stay up on his toes, and Shane keeps pushing and the plug hardly moves except sometimes the pain spikes a little more sharply, and Brendon thinks that must mean it's gone in deeper.
Brendon's glad Shane gave him the cock ring because they've been playing for a while now, and sometimes Brendon can come just from this, from the sensation of being forced open. It hurts and he wants more. He can't get away, he's already up on the balls of his feet, as high up as he can get, and he can't push back because there's no give to the ropes. His arms burn and his wrists throb, but mostly his ass. There's this low feeling underneath everything. He's so close, and his cock hurts from being this close to the edge and his back hurts from when Shane was hitting him, and Shane's still forcing the toy inside and he's not going to stop until it's in, and Brendon just has to stand here and take it, and, fuck. Brendon closes his eyes.
He opens them again at the sound of the door opening. Spencer's standing at the entrance to the room, staring.
Shane stops putting as much pressure on the toy, and Brendon feels it slide out.
"Oh well," Shane says, not sounding sorry at all. "I guess you'll have to start over." He reaches up and taps the base of the toy against Brendon's fingers, up above his head. "You hold this," he says, and waits until Brendon grabs the toy before letting go.
Shane walks from behind Brendon and tells Spencer, "A closed door means that we're busy."
Spencer blinks, and flushes.
There's a long moment of silence. Brendon closes his eyes, trying to catch his balance. Everything feels more annoying all of the sudden. It's more difficult to stay like this now that he doesn't have Shane's full attention.
He starts wiggling around, and only stops when Shane grabs his hip with one hand.
He says, "Stop." Says, "We're not done yet," and Brendon nods.
When he looks up, he sees that Spencer is still staring at him. Spencer's shoulders are pulled back, his hands curled into fists at his sides.
Shane's been watching him, but he turns his head and notices Spencer.
"Nice try, little buddy," Shane says, grabbing Spencer's shoulder and steering him toward the doorway.
"What are you guys doing?" Spencer asks as he lets Shane lead him out.
"Adult fun," Shane says. "Goodbye, I'm closing the door now."
He pushes the door shut then turns back to Brendon.
Brendon's not making as much fuss as before, but he's still squirming around.
He looks at Shane and makes a sad, I've lost the moment, face.
Shane stares back. He slides his eyes over to the side of the room where their box of toys is pushed up against the wall. He raises his eyebrows, So I'll take you back down.
Brendon flops his wrist, trying to draw Shane's attention back to the toy he's holding.
Shane gives Brendon an unimpressed look.
Shane keeps staring at him, waiting and watching and Brendon feels himself start to calm down.
He makes a, This gag is really big and I'm starting to drool all over the place, face.
Shane smiles.
--
"I'm not going to be able to sleep for a while," Brendon says, lying beside Shane. They've done a barely perfunctory job at cleaning themselves up and there are still ropes hanging from the ceiling. Brendon feels like he's swimming, the endorphin rush is so high.
"You want to go watch TV?" Shane asks.
"You can stay if you want to sleep," Brendon offers.
Shane slaps his hip, just gently, but Brendon still gasps. His skin feels really sensitive. He wiggles, trying to get Shane to tighten his grip.
"I'm not going to sleep," Shane says, rolling his eyes, then smiling fondly at Brendon. Brendon beams back at him.
Shane pulls on some sweats; Brendon just wraps a blanket around his shoulders. They make their way to the living room.
Spencer's already sitting on the couch, watching TV.
He makes a little, Ack, sound when he sees them walk into the room.
"Hi, precious," Brendon says, sitting down on the couch beside him. Shane sits down beside Brendon and Brendon immediately starts squirming around so that his and Shane's bodies fit closer together.
"Hi," Spencer says. He passes the remote over. Brendon pulls his hands back and lets Shane take it from Spencer.
"What were you watching?" Shane asks.
"Infomercials," Spencer says. "Do you feel like maybe our lives have been a little meaningless because we don't have a blender that also doubles as a juicer?"
"Ah," Shane says. "So that's what it was."
"Try and find something better to watch," Spencer says.
Shane flips around for a while, but he eventually takes them back to the original channel.
"So," Spencer says after a number of minutes. "Long night?"
Brendon grins, mostly to himself. "Good night," he says.
Spencer shakes his head, looking at Brendon incredulously. Brendon sighs happily. He shifts around, holding the blanket around his body even though more of his limbs than not remain uncovered, until he's leaning back against Shane. He lifts his legs onto Spencer's lap.
Shane's arms come to wrap around his torso, and he turns so that Brendon can settle back against him more comfortably.
After a moment, Spencer settles into it too, his warm hand coming to wrap around Brendon's bare calf.
--
-- * --
--
"What are you making?" Brendon asks, coming up behind Spencer.
Spencer's standing in front of the stove. "Just stir fry," he says.
"Smells good."
"Umm, thanks," says Spencer. "Do you, um, I mean. Can you even eat?"
"We can," Brendon says. "It's just not really--"
"How does it even-- work?" Spencer asks, staring down at the frying pan and pushing around vegetables with the wooden spatula.
"You know how blood carries around all of the good stuff to your organs?"
"Yeah."
"So, we drink blood and then we get all of the good stuff."
"Huh," Spencer says. "Does it matter what kind of blood you drink?"
"Sure," Brendon says. "If someone's malnourished, it's not like it's going to do a lot of good to drink from them. It's better if they're all healthy and happy."
Spencer's hand freezes.
"Eat up," Brendon says, clasping Spencer on the shoulder and leaving him to finish cooking.
--
-- * --
--
Brendon and Shane are in the middle of rearranging the furniture in the den - it'll be better with the couch facing the door, instead of pushed up against the side wall -when Spencer clears his throat, announcing his presence.
Brendon puts down the coffee table and looks up.
Spencer is silent for a long moment before he bursts out with, "You've been keeping me for weeks. Weeks! When are you going to do something?"
"Do you want us to do something?" Brendon asks, raising his eyebrows. He shares an anticipatory look with Shane.
"No!" Spencer snaps. "I just-- This level of suspense is entirely unnecessarily. It's bullshit!"
"It's not suspense," Shane says.
Brendon shakes his head in agreement. "You're our pet," he says. He doesn't get why that's so hard for Spencer to understand.
"Is this some kind of perverse psychological torture?" Spencer asks. "If you're going to kill me, you should cut the bullshit and just do it already."
"We're not going to kill you," Shane says.
"Pets are for nibbling," Brendon explains. "Not for draining."
Spencer makes a little wrinkly face and gives them dubious looks.
"We're so patient," Brendon assures him. "And friendly, as you've surely noticed."
"And it's not like it's hard to find people to eat," Shane says.
"So, instead of... nibbling on me, you're killing other people?" Spencer asks.
Brendon exchanges a look with Shane.
"Something like that," Shane says.
"Oh," Spencer says.
"Do you like the couch better over here?" Brendon asks. "I feel like maybe the room looks lopsided now."
Spencer stares up at the ceiling for a long time before he looks back at the room again.
"You should move the armchair over there," he mutters, then walks away.
--
-- * --
--
Shane's hands dig into Brendon's lower back, pulling him in, holding him close.
Brendon grinds his hips in slow circles. He feathers kisses across Shane's jaw before whispering, "I can't move like this."
Shane's hands reluctantly loosen, finally moving up to rest on Brendon's shoulders.
"Sorry," Shane says. He tips his head back and squeezes his eyes closed at Brendon's first full stroke.
Brendon holds himself up over Shane, arching his back so that their bellies brush together, Shane's cock trapped between them.
"Brendon," Shane mouths, his head moving from side to side on the pillow. "Fuck. Please."
Brendon kisses the crease between Shane's eyebrows. He says, "Touch yourself," and pulls back a little to give Shane room to move his hand down.
Shane curses when he gets his hand around his erection. He says again, "Brendon," wiggling his hips to meet Brendon's thrusts as best he can.
Brendon speeds up a little, and Shane murmurs appreciatively.
He opens his eyes. Looks up and says, "I love you."
Brendon grinds in hard, says, "Love you." He starts fucking Shane quickly. He says again, "Love you." Asks, "Are you--?"
Shane nods quickly, the lines in his neck standing out in sharp definition. He groans softly, shaking through orgasm as Brendon comes inside of him, their bodies jerking together.
Brendon drops his forehead to rest against Shane's collarbone, panting shallowly. He closes his eyes, breathes in the scent of Shane's skin. He ducks to press a kiss just above Shane's nipple before raising his head again.
Shane's hand comes up, cupping the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon says, "I love you." Shane hums his agreement before pulling Brendon down for a kiss.
Eventually, Brendon rolls off, settling on the bed beside Shane. He's facing the door, and from across Shane's shoulder, he thinks he can see movement. They've left the door open. He listens, and he thinks he can hear movement, but it's hard to be sure, and it doesn't really matter either way. They've filmed themselves lots of times; he knows they look good while fucking.
He kisses Shane's shoulder and wraps his arm around Shane's chest.
--
-- * --
--
Brendon lifts up the box that's just been delivered, raising an eyebrow. "Don't we already own Guitar Hero?"
"Encore," Spencer says. "Rocks the 80s!"
"Ooh, more songs for us to beat?" Brendon asks, lighting up.
"More songs," Spencer agrees.
Brendon dashes off to the living room, the box ducked under his arm. He doubles back after passing Spencer, and gives him a quick squeeze with his free arm.
"This is awesome, pretty one," he says. "Good thinking."
Spencer rolls his eyes, but he doesn't flinch away.
Brendon lets go and starts calling out, "Shane! Shane, more songs to play! Shane!"
Spencer trails behind him. "You have to share," he says.
Brendon turns his head to grin at Spencer over his shoulder. "Don't worry," he says. "No one's going to forget about you."
--
-- * --
--
The blood is gushing into his mouth faster than he can swallow it. It slides past his lips and down his neck.
Brendon takes a couple more gulps before giving up. He shoves the body away.
"I want a new one," he tells Shane. "I bit down too hard." He takes a step backwards. The body is bleeding onto the floor and it's going to get his shoes dirty soon. His shirt can be thrown away, but he liked these shoes.
Shane looks up. His eyes are glowing dark yellow, and his mouth is wet and red. He doesn't have a mess all over his face though. Brendon wipes at his chin with the back of his hand, then licks it off.
"You want to share this one?" Shane offers. He's drinking from a girl with long brown hair.
"How much is left?" Brendon asks.
Shane licks his lips. "I dunno. She's still alive." In demonstration, the girl starts struggling weakly. Shane gathers up her hair in one hand and uses it to yank her head to the side. She doesn't stop struggling, but now there's room for Brendon to come up behind her.
He pecks Shane on the lips in thank you, then bends to the girl's neck. He bites down just over from where Shane had bitten, carefully this time.
He only raises his head again when he feels Shane nuzzling his cheek. Brendon sucks hard, filling his mouth with blood, then presses his lips to Shane's, sealing their mouths together and feeding his mouthful to Shane. Shane swallows, licks the taste off of Brendon's tongue, continues fucking his tongue into Brendon's mouth long after the blood is gone.
When he pulls away, Shane says, "Let's find another one."
Brendon isn't hungry anymore, but he says, "Yeah."
--
They come home and find Spencer on the couch in the front room, flipping through a magazine.
He smiles when he sees them, but his expression changes quickly.
"You're covered in blood," he says, flatly.
"Brendon's covered in blood," Shane clarifies.
"Um, no, it's both of you," Spencer says.
Shane looks down. His shirt isn't drenched, but there are a couple of red patches.
"Well, only because of Brendon," Shane says.
Brendon shrugs. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head.
"Better?" he asks.
Shane slides his hand across Brendon's lower back, cupping his hand over Brendon's hip. He rubs his cheek over Brendon's now-bare shoulder, and hums, mm hm.
Spencer throws the magazine on the floor and storms past them, muttering, "You don't have to be so blatant about it," as he passes.
Shane leaves one arm wrapped around Brendon, but reaches for Spencer with his other hand.
"What?" he asks, holding onto Spencer's wrist so that he can't leave.
Spencer jiggles his hand, but he doesn't try too hard to get away.
"You're all, 'Oh, look at me, I just killed a bunch of people,'" says Spencer.
"It wasn't a bunch," Brendon says. He mouths, Three? to Shane, who mouths back, Four. "Three and a half," Brendon says, "is not a bunch."
Spencer doesn't look soothed.
"Don't be ornery, precious," Brendon says. "We have to eat."
"Do you want to play Rock Band?" Shane asks. Brendon can see the movement of his thumb, rubbing slowly up and down the soft skin of Spencer's inner wrist.
Spencer doesn't answer, but when Shane coaxes, "You can play drums," he allows himself to be led to the living room.
--
-- * --
--
"Motherfucker!"
Shane looks up.
Brendon lifts his arm, showing the spot on his sleeve. "My favorite jacket! Ruined!"
"We can take it the the dry cleaners," Shane says. "Maybe they can get the stain out."
"Blood's so hard to remove once it has set," Brendon says.
Shane reaches out and pinches Brendon's pouty lower lip, then replaces his fingers with his mouth.
"We'll go shopping for a new jacket," Shane says. "You should get a black one. It was just a matter of time before that jacket got stained, especially because you've been wearing it nonstop."
"Just because you like wearing all black doesn't mean I have to," Brendon says.
"Black doesn't stain," says Shane.
"Well. Yes, okay, fair enough. Still. My jacket."
Shane kisses him again.
"You want to borrow one of my coats to wear tonight?" Shane asks.
They're rummaging through the closet when Spencer comes into the entrance.
"Where are you going?" Spencer asks.
Brendon turns.
"Where do you think we're going?" Shane asks.
Spencer says, "But, you just went out last night."
"And now we're hungry again," says Brendon.
"You killed four people last night!"
"Three and a half," Brendon corrects.
"Brendon's a bit distracting sometimes," Shane says, nudging Brendon with his elbow.
Brendon grins to himself, then reaches for Shane's hand, lacing their fingers together.
"We didn't actually eat all that much," Shane finishes.
Spencer opens his mouth, but doesn't say anything, so Brendon turns back to the closet to continue finding a coat.
He laces up his shoes, grabs his wallet and puts it in his back pocket.
"You ready?" he asks Shane.
"Yup," Shane says.
Brendon is reaching for the door handle when Spencer finally blurts out, "Stop."
Brendon drops his hand and turns around. He tilts his head and waits.
"Don't go kill people," Spencer says. His face is flushed.
"We've got to eat," Brendon says, dragging out the words a little.
"Okay," Spencer snaps. "Jesus. Okay. Fine."
"Fine, what?"
"Don't be a jerk," Spencer says. He doesn't sound angry anymore.
Brendon looks at Shane.
"Well," Shane says.
"Since you offered so nicely," Brendon continues.
Shane starts unbuttoning his coat, and Brendon bends to untie his shoes.
Brendon asks, "Where do you want to do this?" Spencer's slouching and leaning against the wall as he waits for them to finish taking off their coats and shoes.
Spencer shrugs. His shoulders are already up around his ears, so it's only a very small movement.
Brendon walks over to him, touching the tips of his fingers to Spencer's arm, just above his elbow. Spencer lets Brendon guide him away from the wall, but once they're standing in the hallway, Brendon pauses, waiting for Spencer to answer.
"Where do you want to go?" Shane asks. He comes up on Spencer's other side. Brendon can see Shane rubbing his knuckles lightly over the back of Spencer's neck.
Spencer stands quietly for a minute, before taking a tiny step forward, twitching away.
Brendon and Shane take a step in unison so that they continue touching him.
Spencer twitches a little harder.
"Stop it," he says. "It's too brides of the night when you do the creepy simultaneous thing."
Brendon glances over Spencer's shoulder and grins at Shane. He says, "We're," and Shane finishes, "Sorry."
Spencer huffs. "You're hilarious."
"Sweetheart," Brendon says, rubbing his hand up the back of Spencer's arm. "Where do you want to go?"
"It doesn't matter," Spencer says. His fingers twitch at his side.
Shane says, "It does matter."
Brendon says, "We want you to be comfortable."
Spencer rolls his shoulders. He's still slouched, but not so much as to make him shorter than Brendon anymore.
"The den, I guess," Spencer says.
Shane rubs his thumb over the nape of Spencer's neck. "Whatever you want."
--
Brendon sits on the couch and pulls Spencer down beside him. Spencer sits with his feet flat on the floor, his back pressed to the couch. Brendon turns sideways, drawing one leg up to his chest. He wraps his arm around his leg and leans against Spencer.
"Relax," he says, rubbing his cheek against Spencer's shoulder.
"Are you going to rock-paper-scissors over who gets to go first?" Spencer asks. He's trying to make a joke, but there isn't much humour in his voice.
"Shane's going to go first," Brendon says. He'd like to go first, but he knows it'll be better if it's Shane; Shane's better at being careful than Brendon is.
"Okay," Spencer says in a small voice. "I don't know, ah."
Brendon glances at Shane, who nods.
"Come here, pretty thing," Brendon says. He spreads his legs, one dangling off the side of the couch, the other bent against the back of the couch, and pulls Spencer backwards. "Lean against me. There you go, now give your arm to Shane, prettypretty."
Spencer's back is just barely touching Brendon's chest. He holds himself tightly, pausing for a moment before raising his arm toward Shane. Brendon wraps his arm around Spencer's side, opening his palm over Spencer's chest. He can feel the frantic fluttering of Spencer's heart.
"Calm," Brendon reminds him. "Be calm, sweet one."
"I'm trying," Spencer says, choking out something like a laugh.
"Shane's so good," Brendon assures him.
Brendon watches over Spencer's shoulder. Shane smiles at Spencer, tracing over the veins in Spencer's inner arm with the tips of his fingers. He trails his hand up from Spencer's wrist to the crook of his elbow and then back down again.
Shane lifts Spencer's arm and Spencer gets even tenser.
Brendon makes shushing noises in Spencer's ear, resting his chin on Spencer's shoulder so that he can watch. "No, it's okay, just relax," he murmurs. "It's okay, it's going to feel so good."
Shane opens his mouth, and Spencer's shoulders rise up. Brendon nuzzles his head against Spencer's cheek, trying to get him to loosen up.
"He's going to go slow," Brendon says. "So slow, it's okay, it feels good."
Shane bites down and Spencer's body jerks. He inhales sharply.
"There you go," Brendon says. He rubs his nose behind Spencer's ear. Spencer tilts his head forward to give Brendon more room, and Brendon kisses his neck softly. "There you go, just like that, stop trying to pull away from him."
Spencer exhales shakily.
Brendon watches Shane's jaw flex, his mouth opening wider. Shane makes a low noise, and Brendon hisses.
Spencer squirms, but not away from Shane. Brendon sees Shane move his mouth up a little, sees him bite down again, and he can feel Spencer arching against him.
"Yeah, yeah, see, there you go," Brendon says. "It's good, his mouth, it feels good, it's so good."
Spencer reaches down with his free hand, groping until he finds Brendon's leg. His fingers wrap around Brendon's leg, just above his knee. Brendon strokes his hand down Spencer's chest, kisses his neck again, then opens his mouth wider and starts to bite.
Spencer makes this, "Uh," sound the whole time that Brendon's biting, "Uh, uh, uh," little bubbles of sound. His fingers scrabble around on Brendon's leg, but he doesn't let go, just reaches for a better grip, clinging tightly.
Brendon bites steadily until he tastes blood, hums happily into Spencer's neck. He drinks slowly. He feels Spencer squirming on the couch.
Brendon continues holding Spencer with one arm, and reaches for Shane with the other, reaching his hand forward and waiting until Shane's fingers wrap around him.
The wound on Spencer's neck starts to clot, and he moves down to bite again, a little bit harder this time, a little bit sharper. Spencer makes a high, breathy sound. He tastes even better than Brendon thought he would.
Brendon drinks and drinks until Shane says, "Brendon," giving his hand a warning squeeze.
Brendon licks up the rest of the blood, then pulls away reluctantly. He raises his head, and sees Shane staring up at him, all sharp teeth and glowing eyes. Shane's got a smudge of blood on the corner of his mouth. Brendon licks his lips again.
He lets go of Shane's hand, and starts manoeuvring himself out from behind Spencer. He holds Spencer's shoulders and lowers him down so that he's lying on the couch.
Spencer goes easily, blinking up at him. He looks dazed.
"Thanks, lovely," Brendon says, bending to smack his lips wetly over Spencer's forehead.
Shane rises off the couch, and they head toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Spencer asks. He pushes himself up with one arm, but doesn't make it to a completely upright position.
Brendon turns around, standing at the doorway. "Places to go, people to eat," he says.
Spencer blanches, balling his hands into fists. "But-- You just--"
Brendon reaches for Shane, lacing their fingers together. "You're sweet," he tells Spencer. "And delicious. And we only took a few mouthfuls."
"Try to sleep," Shane says. "Rest up."
Spencer opens and closes his mouth a few times. His cheeks are flushed red, which is especially noticeable given that his skin is even paler than normal.
Brendon wiggles his fingers goodbye then closes the door.
They're only a few feet down the hall before Shane grabs his hip, pushing him up against the wall. Brendon groans softly upon impact.
Shane licks a line up his throat before biting down. When he lifts his head up, his mouth is wet and red.
Shane says, "You taste like him."
Brendon feels the blood from the bite bead up and start to trail down his neck. He lifts his chin, exposing his throat, and Shane ducks down to lick the blood away. Shane grazes his teeth over the puncture marks, and pain flares sharply. Brendon moans, his hip jerking forward.
Shane drags his lips up, kisses over Brendon's jaw before meeting Brendon's lips. Brendon bites Shane's lip, hard. Their mouths slide wetly together, Brendon tastes Shane and Spencer and himself.
--
-- * --
--
Part Two