Fic | Brendon/Spencer
I'll Be Captivating
Brendon/Spencer | ~560 words | R | Panic! At The Porno Cabin
Closet kissing. "Out of the closet" joke. Need I say more?
So panicatthecobra and I are playing a very unofficial game of cliché bingo, and this goes with the prompt of: Closets, caves and other tight spaces. Title comes from I'll Be by Edwin McCain.
Spencer's totally just minding his own business, walking down the hallway around 1AM. He'd turned in extremely early, because he hadn't felt like he'd been contributing at all - Ryan and Brendon were at it, per usual, and Jon was watching them go back-and-forth like it was a tennis match - and he's secretly eighty and lame.
He's in pajama bottoms, bare feet and a t-shirt that may've at one point been Brendon's, - he thinks this because it doesn't exactly fit him, but it's fine for sleeping - not that he'll ever admit to that part. Not the fact that he stole it, or the fact that he still wears it, because that's kind of sort of normal for them, but because that Ryan would mock him for years over it. Because Ryan is nothing but an awful best friend with the ability to read Spencer's mind. (See? Lame.)
The one closet they have in this cabin is right next to the bathroom - obviously because the world hates Spencer and constantly enjoys reminding him of such - and Brendon pounces out like a serious ninja and tackles Spencer and pulls him into the closet.
Before Spencer can blink, him and Brendon are squished up together in the closet and Spencer only vaguely realizes how he just got here and why he's not in the bathroom or the hallway.
"What did you do now," Spencer sighs, because Brendon never literally hides unless he thinks he's done something scandalously wrong and nefarious and thinks that Ryan's going to kill him for it. And then he gets Spencer in on it, because Spencer knows which buttons to push to make the Ryan Robot happy again - seriously, Brendon's explained it like that to Spencer before. Robot Ryan was about the point he'd stopped listening.
"Um, nothing important?" Brendon tries. "Just, uh, something Ryan doesn't encourage and is going to literally slay me after I do it?"
"Your vagueness never ceases to amaze me," Spencer deadpans, and then, oh hey, Brendon's crawling onto his lap. Spencer's breath maybe hitches a little and he wishes he could see right now.
Brendon straddles his hips and traces his hands up and down the fraying fabric of Spencer's (Brendon's) t-shirt. "So is it okay if I do the something Ryan doesn't encourage?"
"I might be able to handle that," Spencer chokes out and before he's reached the end of his words, Brendon's sucking on his neck.
"Hey, hey," Spencer moans and moves Brendon's head away.
"What?" Brendon says quietly, and Spencer can hear the timid confusion in his voice.
"I think we should do this first," Spencer explains in a whisper, finds Brendon's jaw line with his hands, and pulls him in and kisses him.
Just when it's starting to get somewhere, - somewhere like Spencer's trying to get Brendon's shirt off - there's a banging from the door. And not just an average banging, more like someone's furiously kicking the shit out of the door.
"Hey, you two," Ryan calls in. "Get the hell out of the closet!"
Brendon laughs and Spencer tugs Brendon's shirt up more, replying, "I think we've already got that part covered, Ry, but thanks."
"What?" Ryan says. "You're still in the clos - oh. I hate you both!"
"This is going to fuck up the band, we know," Brendon responds in a pant.
"Ew, noises," Ryan mutters and walks away.
. end