Fic: So wrong
So Wrong
adult
Spencer POV ficlet, companion to About A Girl
master post
This is wrong on so many levels.
Spencer bites his lip and strokes a little bit faster.
So wrong.
He doesn't think of Bren in a sexual way. He doesn't. Or, well, he didn't.
It's not that he doesn't think she has sex. Bren's his age, and he knows all about teenaged hormones; she's hot, objectively speaking; it's not that he would think less of her, even though he knows that it's way easier for women on tour to earn a reputation than a guy. So, yeah, if Spencer thinks about it (which he doesn't, absolutely does NOT) he figures she hooks up every so often when they're on the road. But Bren belongs to the band in his mind, not the girl-he'd-like-to-bang category.
After he first realizes that Audrey isn't just hanging out with Bren to giggle about Andy (he knows they both totally hit that; no matter how discreet Bren is, there's no hiding the just-fucked glow she had some mornings on Nintendo Fusion), Spencer spends a solid week forcing himself not to think about the pair of them in a tangle of soft hair and smooth skin in Bren's bunk. He's okay with it; Spencer doesn't care that Bren's fucking a chick instead of a guy - except that if he lets himself think about it, brain cells might die of the overload of hot - because Spencer is not a hypocrite. His first kiss, his first blow job, his first everything was Ryan, back when they were figuring things out. He just worries that it's going to blow up in Bren's face, and they'll be the ones dealing with the fallout. He asks her once, and her response is so resigned and cynical that it hurts him to hear it.
He tries not to worry about it after that, tries not to think about it at all. That works fine until the day he, Ryan, and Brent interrupt Bren and Audrey in the back lounge.
They've only been gone a half-hour, and he doesn't expect them to be there or he totally would have knocked before pushing open the door. Instead he barges in, and holy hell, the scene in front him.
Bren is stretched across the sofa, her shirt half-done and pushed up under her chin. Clear, pale skin is bared from sternum to the sharp cut of her hipbones, perfect round breasts with dark, tight nipples pointing upward, one half-covered by Audrey's hand. Audrey herself is kneeling between Bren's spread legs, her nose bumping Bren's bellybutton and her lips brushing the edge of a scrap of pink, her chin pushing the opened zip of Bren's jeans down.
There's a dreamy smile on Bren's face, sharp white teeth caught in her lip. Her eyes are closed, her neck arched, and she's holding onto the sofa with one hand and tugging on a hank of Audrey's hair with the other.
It only lasts for a second before Bren's scrambling up and Brent's stomping off the bus, but that second is etched in Spencer's brain permanently. It's there when Bren smiles at him sleepily over Froot Loops, it's there when she talks to him about this crazy dream she had about a drumline, it WILL NOT GO AWAY when he watches her bounce and swagger and sashay all over the stage in tight skirts and tighter jeans.
It's there when he sleeps and it's there, stuck in his brain, when he wakes up hard and leaking. When he reaches down to take care of business, no matter how hard he tries to think about nameless, faceless scene kids or porn stars, it's Bren's face that he sees as he gets off.
adult
Spencer POV ficlet, companion to About A Girl
master post
This is wrong on so many levels.
Spencer bites his lip and strokes a little bit faster.
So wrong.
He doesn't think of Bren in a sexual way. He doesn't. Or, well, he didn't.
It's not that he doesn't think she has sex. Bren's his age, and he knows all about teenaged hormones; she's hot, objectively speaking; it's not that he would think less of her, even though he knows that it's way easier for women on tour to earn a reputation than a guy. So, yeah, if Spencer thinks about it (which he doesn't, absolutely does NOT) he figures she hooks up every so often when they're on the road. But Bren belongs to the band in his mind, not the girl-he'd-like-to-bang category.
After he first realizes that Audrey isn't just hanging out with Bren to giggle about Andy (he knows they both totally hit that; no matter how discreet Bren is, there's no hiding the just-fucked glow she had some mornings on Nintendo Fusion), Spencer spends a solid week forcing himself not to think about the pair of them in a tangle of soft hair and smooth skin in Bren's bunk. He's okay with it; Spencer doesn't care that Bren's fucking a chick instead of a guy - except that if he lets himself think about it, brain cells might die of the overload of hot - because Spencer is not a hypocrite. His first kiss, his first blow job, his first everything was Ryan, back when they were figuring things out. He just worries that it's going to blow up in Bren's face, and they'll be the ones dealing with the fallout. He asks her once, and her response is so resigned and cynical that it hurts him to hear it.
He tries not to worry about it after that, tries not to think about it at all. That works fine until the day he, Ryan, and Brent interrupt Bren and Audrey in the back lounge.
They've only been gone a half-hour, and he doesn't expect them to be there or he totally would have knocked before pushing open the door. Instead he barges in, and holy hell, the scene in front him.
Bren is stretched across the sofa, her shirt half-done and pushed up under her chin. Clear, pale skin is bared from sternum to the sharp cut of her hipbones, perfect round breasts with dark, tight nipples pointing upward, one half-covered by Audrey's hand. Audrey herself is kneeling between Bren's spread legs, her nose bumping Bren's bellybutton and her lips brushing the edge of a scrap of pink, her chin pushing the opened zip of Bren's jeans down.
There's a dreamy smile on Bren's face, sharp white teeth caught in her lip. Her eyes are closed, her neck arched, and she's holding onto the sofa with one hand and tugging on a hank of Audrey's hair with the other.
It only lasts for a second before Bren's scrambling up and Brent's stomping off the bus, but that second is etched in Spencer's brain permanently. It's there when Bren smiles at him sleepily over Froot Loops, it's there when she talks to him about this crazy dream she had about a drumline, it WILL NOT GO AWAY when he watches her bounce and swagger and sashay all over the stage in tight skirts and tighter jeans.
It's there when he sleeps and it's there, stuck in his brain, when he wakes up hard and leaking. When he reaches down to take care of business, no matter how hard he tries to think about nameless, faceless scene kids or porn stars, it's Bren's face that he sees as he gets off.