oh it's a funny thing you know
Pairings: Brendon/Spencer, Pete/Ashlee. Implied foursome, only not really.
Rating: PG-13? If you're old enough to legally be on LJ, you're probably okay to read this.
Warnings: Pot use, pining, and Pete Wentz (and Ashlee!) being a dick?
Word count: ~1900
In which Pete and Ashlee like pranking Spencer, Spencer might like the idea of sleeping with them, Spencer definitely likes the idea of sleeping with Brendon, and Brendon definitely likes Spencer. Title from here.
oh it's a funny thing you know
Pete doesn't even get a chance to say hello before Spencer's talking. "So, you want to shake things up?"
He grins and shifts his Sidekick to the other ear. "I was thinking about it, yeah."
"Anything in mind?"
"Me and Ash have been talking it over. We've got a few ideas."
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Oh, come on now, Spencer Smith, you don't want me to ruin the surprise for you."
"Fuck off and at least give me a hint." He sounds a little distracted and kind of amused; he probably thinks Pete's just playing with him or being a douche. Which he totally is, but Spencer doesn't need to know that.
"Well, Ashlee keeps talking about your hands. How long your fingers are, and how strong you are. The way no one can keep a rhythm like you can." Pete can actually hear Spencer's breath stutter, which is kind of awesome, really hot, and entirely hilarious. "She loves to watch you when you're drumming. We both do. You're so into the music, and the way you throw your head back, the way your mouth drops open... god, Spencer."
"I, um." Spencer sounds a little lost, and Pete has to hold the phone away from his head for a second just in case he starts laughing.
Ashlee chooses that moment to enter the room. "Is that Spencer?" she asks, and when Pete nods she reaches out and grabs the phone. "Hey, you. We're going to be seeing you tomorrow, right? Bright and early?" She pauses. Pete claps his hand over his mouth to muffle the laughter he's not quite holding in. "Can't wait, Spence. Oh, hey, do us a favor? Bring Brendon with you. See you soon."
She ends the call and slides down next to Pete on the couch, turning her face against his neck and giggling. "We're the worst people ever."
"Totally. Should we let Brendon know what we're doing?"
"What kind of worst people ever would we be if we did that?"
"You," he tells her sincerely, "are an awful human being, and I think I'm going to divorce you just so I can marry you again."
*
"What's up?" Brendon asks, settling down on the couch next to Spencer and offering him a beer.
"Nothing!" Spencer says quickly, jumping. Brendon gives him a weird look, and Spencer realizes a little belatedly that he's still holding out the beer. He takes it and downs half of it in one go. "Um. Thanks."
"No problem. What's got you so nervous?"
"Just thinking. Thoughts, I mean."
"Yeah," Brendon says. "Yeah, thoughts are generally the things that you think."
"Right, which is why I've been thinking them."
Brendon raises his eyebrows. "Did you smoke up without me?"
"Yes," Spencer says, having done no such thing. "I did. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about you. Just me in my thoughts. Me and my weed and no you at all."
"It's cool," Brendon says. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to blaze, but I guess I'll just keep it all to myself, since you're such a thoughtless dick."
"That's fine," Spencer says. "I don't want any, anyway. Any more. Because I already had some. Without you."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Brendon asks.
Spencer is really not okay, because the problem with thoughts (those things that you think, oh god, he is never going to live that down) is that sometimes they get blurted out, especially when you add weed into the picture. Given that right now Spencer is thinking I think my boss and his wife just propositioned me and I think they want to have a foursome with me and my bandmate and I wonder if Brendon would want to?, he doesn't want to take chance. And shit, that last thought is the kind of thing he usually manages to get out of his head pretty quickly, even if it does tend to resurface on a regular basis, namely whenever he looks at Brendon.
This is kind of ridiculous. He blames Pete. He usually blames Pete.
"I need to sleep," he says. "Night, Brendon."
*
Going to bed is a good idea, in that he can't ramble in his sleep, or randomly invite his bandmate/friend/roommate/secret jerk-off fantasy to an orgy. It's an awful idea, he realizes in the morning, because it just means that Friday morning came even sooner. He still plans on heading over to Ashlee and Pete's - either they're pranking him or sex is actually on the agenda, and either way, Spencer can roll with it. (So long as he's not being Punk'd or something, because he really doesn't want to say something like "So, about that sex! We should have it," and then have Ashton Kutcher jump out and point him in the direction of all the cameras recording his proposition for all the viewers to see. And with his luck, the viewers would be his mother, and his grandmother, and his kindergarten teacher, and probably a convent full of MTV-watching nuns or something.)
The thing is... the thing is, Brendon. Spencer feels like he's doing an equation where x is him and y is Pete and z is Ashlee, and the solution is either embarrassing or awesome, but either way he knows how to deal with that answer. He can't factor Brendon in when he's spent the last six years or so factoring him out of every equation that would result in either humiliation or sexytimes. Brendon's not something he's willing to risk losing, not for anything. He'd rather spend the rest of his life watching and wanting than spend it not being able to watch at all.
It's still early when he's ready to leave. He's hoping he can get out before Brendon wakes up, thereby solving the whole issue by avoiding it, but he trips on something when he's heading through the living room and ends up half-falling onto the couch. Or, more accurately, onto Brendon, who's passed the fuck out on said couch.
"Nrrrrrg," Brendon says, and Spencer freezes, hoping maybe he'll just go back to sleep, but then his eyes flicker open. He blinks blearily and then his mouth curves up into a soft smile, like it's not weird to wake up to find Spencer hovering over him like he's been watching him sleep. Which he totally hasn't done, not ever, he doesn't care what anyone says, not even if Shane says he has video that proves it. "Hey."
"Hey," Spencer says. "Sorry. I kind of fell on you." He should probably move back, what with the whole thing where he's three inches away from Brendon's face. He stays right where he is, braced awkwardly with his hands on either side of Brendon's head.
"S'okay. You going somewhere?"
"I'm heading over to Pete and Ashlee's," he says, and then, because his mouth is an evil, evil thing that apparently says things without thinking, "you want to come with?"
Brendon makes a little humming sound. "Too tired," he says. "You going to be long?"
That depends, Spencer doesn't say, and makes a non-committal sound.
"Hope not." He tips his head up and kisses Spencer briefly, softly, and wait, what? "Have fun," he murmurs, his eyes slipping closed as he leans back down again.
"What the actual fuck," Spencer says, but Brendon's already asleep.
*
His head's in a fog; if it weren't for his GPS barking out commands in a weirdly mesmerizing tone, he'd probably have gotten lost a dozen times. He gets there quickly, though, and Ashlee lets him in. "No Brendon?" she says.
"No, he, uh. Couldn't make it."
"Rough night?" she asks sympathetically, then grabs his hand and pulls him into the house. "That's okay, we've got you, and that's all we really need, huh?"
Spencer's kind of flattered, except for the fact that by now he's pretty sure he's being set up. She leads him into the room they've been using as a practice space (well, mostly Patrick uses it as a practice space, sometimes Brendon; Spencer's never seen anyone else in it before). Spencer looks around for any hidden cameras, or Ashton-shaped lumps hiding behind curtains, but there's just Pete, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor with an acoustic guitar in his hands.
"Hey, Spencer," he says, grinning. "Glad you could make it."
Then Ashlee's pressing something into his hand, and he scowls without looking to see what he's holding, because he knows what he's holding and his friends are assholes. "Seriously, you guys are assholes," he informs them.
"Because we made you think we wanted to have sex with you, or because we're gonna make you play tambourine?" Ashlee asks.
"Mostly the latter," Spencer says. "Like I'd have sex with you freaks of nature anyway," he adds, and is a little surprised to find out that he means it. Well, maybe the freaks of nature bit is a little harsh, but any desire he might have had to be part of a Wentz sandwich has dwindled down to nothing.
*
He actually has an awesome time with Pete and Ashlee, even if there's no sex and a whole lot of tambourine playing. Pete relents and tells Spencer he's allowed to play drums, so long as he doesn't tell Patrick that Pete let him touch his kit, and they jam for awhile, Ashlee and Spencer coming up with lyrics that don't make a whole lot of sense, Pete ad-libbing choruses that mostly consist of "that's what she said."
Spencer's head is mostly clear when he leaves, promising to drop in again soon with Brendon ("But not for sex," he tells Ashlee, who's smirking at him). He texts Brendon on his way back, gonna get a sub, you hungry? and then picks up an extra sandwich even though he doesn't get a reply.
He's a little anxious when he gets home and Brendon still hasn't texted him back, but when he lets himself in he finds Brendon still sprawled across the couch. He tosses the bag of food onto the coffee table and pokes at Brendon until his eyes open. "Lazy-ass."
"What time is it?" Brendon asks, stretching.
"Around four. Wake up, asshole, I brought food."
"You, Spencer Smith, are a scholar and a gentleman. Where were you, anyway?" he asks.
"I was hanging out with Ash and Pete, remember?" He can see it written across his face when Brendon does remember what happened that morning.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "Right." He clears his throat, sitting up. His face is a little pink and he doesn't quite meet Spencer's eyes, mostly because his gaze keeps dropping to Spencer's mouth. "So, food?"
Spencer tosses the bag at Brendon. "Take your pick. I wasn't sure if you're vegetarian this week or not, so there's some weird avocado thing and, like, actual awesome normal people food."
"Fuck you," Brendon says. "I'm the best vegetarian ever, but just for that I'm going to make you eat the avocado thing." He finally looks Spencer in the eye, and he's smiling.
They squabble over the subs and end up splitting them, and Spencer tells Brendon about what he missed out on with Ashlee and Pete. Brendon laughs and there's nothing awkward about it, and Spencer thinks, Okay, this isn't so bad, we can still be normal, that's good.
*
Later, though, he remembers Brendon's flushed face, the way he looked at Spencer's lips, the way he kissed him like it was nothing, and maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe, Spencer thinks, and leaves that thought unfinished.
Rating: PG-13? If you're old enough to legally be on LJ, you're probably okay to read this.
Warnings: Pot use, pining, and Pete Wentz (and Ashlee!) being a dick?
Word count: ~1900
In which Pete and Ashlee like pranking Spencer, Spencer might like the idea of sleeping with them, Spencer definitely likes the idea of sleeping with Brendon, and Brendon definitely likes Spencer. Title from here.
oh it's a funny thing you know
Pete doesn't even get a chance to say hello before Spencer's talking. "So, you want to shake things up?"
He grins and shifts his Sidekick to the other ear. "I was thinking about it, yeah."
"Anything in mind?"
"Me and Ash have been talking it over. We've got a few ideas."
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Oh, come on now, Spencer Smith, you don't want me to ruin the surprise for you."
"Fuck off and at least give me a hint." He sounds a little distracted and kind of amused; he probably thinks Pete's just playing with him or being a douche. Which he totally is, but Spencer doesn't need to know that.
"Well, Ashlee keeps talking about your hands. How long your fingers are, and how strong you are. The way no one can keep a rhythm like you can." Pete can actually hear Spencer's breath stutter, which is kind of awesome, really hot, and entirely hilarious. "She loves to watch you when you're drumming. We both do. You're so into the music, and the way you throw your head back, the way your mouth drops open... god, Spencer."
"I, um." Spencer sounds a little lost, and Pete has to hold the phone away from his head for a second just in case he starts laughing.
Ashlee chooses that moment to enter the room. "Is that Spencer?" she asks, and when Pete nods she reaches out and grabs the phone. "Hey, you. We're going to be seeing you tomorrow, right? Bright and early?" She pauses. Pete claps his hand over his mouth to muffle the laughter he's not quite holding in. "Can't wait, Spence. Oh, hey, do us a favor? Bring Brendon with you. See you soon."
She ends the call and slides down next to Pete on the couch, turning her face against his neck and giggling. "We're the worst people ever."
"Totally. Should we let Brendon know what we're doing?"
"What kind of worst people ever would we be if we did that?"
"You," he tells her sincerely, "are an awful human being, and I think I'm going to divorce you just so I can marry you again."
*
"What's up?" Brendon asks, settling down on the couch next to Spencer and offering him a beer.
"Nothing!" Spencer says quickly, jumping. Brendon gives him a weird look, and Spencer realizes a little belatedly that he's still holding out the beer. He takes it and downs half of it in one go. "Um. Thanks."
"No problem. What's got you so nervous?"
"Just thinking. Thoughts, I mean."
"Yeah," Brendon says. "Yeah, thoughts are generally the things that you think."
"Right, which is why I've been thinking them."
Brendon raises his eyebrows. "Did you smoke up without me?"
"Yes," Spencer says, having done no such thing. "I did. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about you. Just me in my thoughts. Me and my weed and no you at all."
"It's cool," Brendon says. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to blaze, but I guess I'll just keep it all to myself, since you're such a thoughtless dick."
"That's fine," Spencer says. "I don't want any, anyway. Any more. Because I already had some. Without you."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Brendon asks.
Spencer is really not okay, because the problem with thoughts (those things that you think, oh god, he is never going to live that down) is that sometimes they get blurted out, especially when you add weed into the picture. Given that right now Spencer is thinking I think my boss and his wife just propositioned me and I think they want to have a foursome with me and my bandmate and I wonder if Brendon would want to?, he doesn't want to take chance. And shit, that last thought is the kind of thing he usually manages to get out of his head pretty quickly, even if it does tend to resurface on a regular basis, namely whenever he looks at Brendon.
This is kind of ridiculous. He blames Pete. He usually blames Pete.
"I need to sleep," he says. "Night, Brendon."
*
Going to bed is a good idea, in that he can't ramble in his sleep, or randomly invite his bandmate/friend/roommate/secret jerk-off fantasy to an orgy. It's an awful idea, he realizes in the morning, because it just means that Friday morning came even sooner. He still plans on heading over to Ashlee and Pete's - either they're pranking him or sex is actually on the agenda, and either way, Spencer can roll with it. (So long as he's not being Punk'd or something, because he really doesn't want to say something like "So, about that sex! We should have it," and then have Ashton Kutcher jump out and point him in the direction of all the cameras recording his proposition for all the viewers to see. And with his luck, the viewers would be his mother, and his grandmother, and his kindergarten teacher, and probably a convent full of MTV-watching nuns or something.)
The thing is... the thing is, Brendon. Spencer feels like he's doing an equation where x is him and y is Pete and z is Ashlee, and the solution is either embarrassing or awesome, but either way he knows how to deal with that answer. He can't factor Brendon in when he's spent the last six years or so factoring him out of every equation that would result in either humiliation or sexytimes. Brendon's not something he's willing to risk losing, not for anything. He'd rather spend the rest of his life watching and wanting than spend it not being able to watch at all.
It's still early when he's ready to leave. He's hoping he can get out before Brendon wakes up, thereby solving the whole issue by avoiding it, but he trips on something when he's heading through the living room and ends up half-falling onto the couch. Or, more accurately, onto Brendon, who's passed the fuck out on said couch.
"Nrrrrrg," Brendon says, and Spencer freezes, hoping maybe he'll just go back to sleep, but then his eyes flicker open. He blinks blearily and then his mouth curves up into a soft smile, like it's not weird to wake up to find Spencer hovering over him like he's been watching him sleep. Which he totally hasn't done, not ever, he doesn't care what anyone says, not even if Shane says he has video that proves it. "Hey."
"Hey," Spencer says. "Sorry. I kind of fell on you." He should probably move back, what with the whole thing where he's three inches away from Brendon's face. He stays right where he is, braced awkwardly with his hands on either side of Brendon's head.
"S'okay. You going somewhere?"
"I'm heading over to Pete and Ashlee's," he says, and then, because his mouth is an evil, evil thing that apparently says things without thinking, "you want to come with?"
Brendon makes a little humming sound. "Too tired," he says. "You going to be long?"
That depends, Spencer doesn't say, and makes a non-committal sound.
"Hope not." He tips his head up and kisses Spencer briefly, softly, and wait, what? "Have fun," he murmurs, his eyes slipping closed as he leans back down again.
"What the actual fuck," Spencer says, but Brendon's already asleep.
*
His head's in a fog; if it weren't for his GPS barking out commands in a weirdly mesmerizing tone, he'd probably have gotten lost a dozen times. He gets there quickly, though, and Ashlee lets him in. "No Brendon?" she says.
"No, he, uh. Couldn't make it."
"Rough night?" she asks sympathetically, then grabs his hand and pulls him into the house. "That's okay, we've got you, and that's all we really need, huh?"
Spencer's kind of flattered, except for the fact that by now he's pretty sure he's being set up. She leads him into the room they've been using as a practice space (well, mostly Patrick uses it as a practice space, sometimes Brendon; Spencer's never seen anyone else in it before). Spencer looks around for any hidden cameras, or Ashton-shaped lumps hiding behind curtains, but there's just Pete, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor with an acoustic guitar in his hands.
"Hey, Spencer," he says, grinning. "Glad you could make it."
Then Ashlee's pressing something into his hand, and he scowls without looking to see what he's holding, because he knows what he's holding and his friends are assholes. "Seriously, you guys are assholes," he informs them.
"Because we made you think we wanted to have sex with you, or because we're gonna make you play tambourine?" Ashlee asks.
"Mostly the latter," Spencer says. "Like I'd have sex with you freaks of nature anyway," he adds, and is a little surprised to find out that he means it. Well, maybe the freaks of nature bit is a little harsh, but any desire he might have had to be part of a Wentz sandwich has dwindled down to nothing.
*
He actually has an awesome time with Pete and Ashlee, even if there's no sex and a whole lot of tambourine playing. Pete relents and tells Spencer he's allowed to play drums, so long as he doesn't tell Patrick that Pete let him touch his kit, and they jam for awhile, Ashlee and Spencer coming up with lyrics that don't make a whole lot of sense, Pete ad-libbing choruses that mostly consist of "that's what she said."
Spencer's head is mostly clear when he leaves, promising to drop in again soon with Brendon ("But not for sex," he tells Ashlee, who's smirking at him). He texts Brendon on his way back, gonna get a sub, you hungry? and then picks up an extra sandwich even though he doesn't get a reply.
He's a little anxious when he gets home and Brendon still hasn't texted him back, but when he lets himself in he finds Brendon still sprawled across the couch. He tosses the bag of food onto the coffee table and pokes at Brendon until his eyes open. "Lazy-ass."
"What time is it?" Brendon asks, stretching.
"Around four. Wake up, asshole, I brought food."
"You, Spencer Smith, are a scholar and a gentleman. Where were you, anyway?" he asks.
"I was hanging out with Ash and Pete, remember?" He can see it written across his face when Brendon does remember what happened that morning.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "Right." He clears his throat, sitting up. His face is a little pink and he doesn't quite meet Spencer's eyes, mostly because his gaze keeps dropping to Spencer's mouth. "So, food?"
Spencer tosses the bag at Brendon. "Take your pick. I wasn't sure if you're vegetarian this week or not, so there's some weird avocado thing and, like, actual awesome normal people food."
"Fuck you," Brendon says. "I'm the best vegetarian ever, but just for that I'm going to make you eat the avocado thing." He finally looks Spencer in the eye, and he's smiling.
They squabble over the subs and end up splitting them, and Spencer tells Brendon about what he missed out on with Ashlee and Pete. Brendon laughs and there's nothing awkward about it, and Spencer thinks, Okay, this isn't so bad, we can still be normal, that's good.
*
Later, though, he remembers Brendon's flushed face, the way he looked at Spencer's lips, the way he kissed him like it was nothing, and maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe, Spencer thinks, and leaves that thought unfinished.