Spencer just glowers. There often is no better response to Brendon.
"Seriously, that, like. No."
"Whatever, man. You're the gay expert, you do it." There really is a limit to Spencer's patience, and that limit is a lot easier to reach when Spencer is naked. Brendon should probably have figured that out by now.
"Oh, hey, man, it's cool, we don't have to! Only. You know. Maybe if I could, uh. Show you." Brendon pastes on a manic grin, which really doesn't help his cause.
"How did this get turned around on my ass?" Spencer asks. "When did that happen?"
Brendon strokes a hand over Spencer's flank, palms his ass. "You'll like it," he says, voice low. "You'll love it, Spence. I'll make it good for you."
"Was this your secret plan all along?" Spencer's rolling over even as he says it, capitulating to Brendon's stupid face like he always does. "Why do I listen to you," he says, and Brendon laughs and kisses Spencer's shoulder blade.
"Because I'm awesome and I have the best ideas," Brendon says. "You'll see."
Spencer rests his face in his arms and tries to relax, listening to Brendon open the lube, squirt some out, re-cap it. There's nothing else to block the tiny sounds, no music and no bouncing bus roar, and Spencer's not great with silence, really.
Luckily, Brendon's about the loudest person Spencer knows. "Okay!" Brendon says brightly. "So lots of lube! Not, like, ridiculous amounts, I mean, you don't want like a slip-n-slide situation, or like a pool--dude, have you ever seen lube wrestling, though? With girls in bikinis?" As he's chattering, he's sliding the tip of one finger over Spencer's hole, just stroking it. "It's not as good as, like, jello wrestling, because lube tastes gross, but--I mean, not that they're eating it, but it's hard not to think about that when you're watching. Maybe that goes away? I've only seen it once. But it was great."
Spencer's half-listening, but it's distracting, having Brendon's finger on him, petting him and pushing in just a little bit. "Calm down," Brendon says, rubbing Spencer's back with his other hand. "Tranquillo, que?"
"Weirdo," Spencer mutters, but he takes a deep breath and lets it out, focuses on loosening up. Loose is just so not his normal, is the thing. There's a reason his PA is a trained masseuse.
"Whatever, you love it when I speak romance languages. You are, like, totally into my sugar. My sucre. My--wait, I don't know what sugar is in Spanish. Doesn't it seem like I should know that? But really, how often does it come up, right?"
Spencer's pretty sure Brendon's got at least one finger in Spencer's ass by now, mostly because he can feel Brendon's knuckles touching him. Maybe it's two. But two would probably feel like more. This just feels like, okay, fine. Not hot, but not bad.
"It's weird, because food words are usually the only things you know in a foreign language. But that's complete foods, like coffee and pasta and stuff. Entrees, not ingredients. Like, what's flour in French? I have no idea. But I know bread, and cake. So, like. I guess I've never baked in France. Or Quebec. Or, like. Have we ever been to Belgium? I can't remember. I should probably be able to remember that sort of thing, Spence."
Now that Brendon's been playing with his ass for a while, Spencer's kind of starting to see the appeal of it, actually. It's--the nerves around the outside of his ass are nice, and, okay, the prostate is not, like, magical unicorn pleasure or whatever but it's good, it's getting him hard, which is pretty much way more than he was expecting.
"Maybe I'm losing my memory. I forgot where my keys were the other day. It turned out they were in the pocket of my hoodie, the one from that Gym Class show we went to in LA last year, you remember? And I was cold and they only had green hoodies and you said it would clash with my outfit and I was like, 'dude, this is not an outfit, this is clothes' and then you laughed at me for, like, an hour. But it's a great hoodie."
Spencer's up on his knees, now, rocking back into Brendon's hand. Brendon's gripping Spencer's hip, leaning over him to press kisses on his back every time he takes a breath.
"Brendon," Spencer says, and pauses to gasp a little when Brendon twists his fingers, "I'm relaxed. Good job. Stop with the chitchat and suck my dick."
"Well," Brendon says, and Spencer turn his head enough to glare a little. "Yeah, all right," Brendon finishes, and pivots onto his back under Spencer, fingers still deep in Spencer's ass. "Pillow," he adds, all faux regal.
"Princess," Spencer says, and helps tuck it under Brendon's head.
"You know it," Brendon says, half muffled by the head of Spencer's cock.
The blowjob out-stimulates the fingering for a minute, and then all of a sudden the fingering is winning, and that's just weird, that Spencer wants to push back into Brendon's fingers more than he wants to push forward into Brendon's mouth. "Witchcraft," he mutters, and Brendon smiles around his cock, sucks a little harder until everything evens up again and Spencer doesn't know what he wants more, except maybe all of it.
"I am going to fuck you so good," Spencer says, "fuck, Brendon," and then he's shaking into it, squeezing around Brendon's fingers and shooting into his mouth.
Brendon swallows, mostly, wipes his face with the back of his free hand and then gently pulls his fingers out of Spencer's ass. "I should get the teacher of the year award," he crows. "I am as a god."
"You are as a dude who's actually had sex with dudes," Spencer say. "All hail you and, like, every guy in San Francisco."
"My unique talents totally gave you an ass orgasm," Brendon says, firmly. "You can't possibly do without me."
"Mmmm," Spencer allows. "I'd rather have you than not, I guess."
"Your declarations of undying devotion and love are so touching, Spence. I don't even know how to contain myself in response to that kind of emotion. I think I have to excuse myself to weep."
"Oh, come here and let me blow you," Spencer says, and that, it seems, is romance enough for Brendon.
FILL: Patter, Brendon/Spencer, 1/1
Spencer just glowers. There often is no better response to Brendon.
"Seriously, that, like. No."
"Whatever, man. You're the gay expert, you do it." There really is a limit to Spencer's patience, and that limit is a lot easier to reach when Spencer is naked. Brendon should probably have figured that out by now.
"Oh, hey, man, it's cool, we don't have to! Only. You know. Maybe if I could, uh. Show you." Brendon pastes on a manic grin, which really doesn't help his cause.
"How did this get turned around on my ass?" Spencer asks. "When did that happen?"
Brendon strokes a hand over Spencer's flank, palms his ass. "You'll like it," he says, voice low. "You'll love it, Spence. I'll make it good for you."
"Was this your secret plan all along?" Spencer's rolling over even as he says it, capitulating to Brendon's stupid face like he always does. "Why do I listen to you," he says, and Brendon laughs and kisses Spencer's shoulder blade.
"Because I'm awesome and I have the best ideas," Brendon says. "You'll see."
Spencer rests his face in his arms and tries to relax, listening to Brendon open the lube, squirt some out, re-cap it. There's nothing else to block the tiny sounds, no music and no bouncing bus roar, and Spencer's not great with silence, really.
Luckily, Brendon's about the loudest person Spencer knows. "Okay!" Brendon says brightly. "So lots of lube! Not, like, ridiculous amounts, I mean, you don't want like a slip-n-slide situation, or like a pool--dude, have you ever seen lube wrestling, though? With girls in bikinis?" As he's chattering, he's sliding the tip of one finger over Spencer's hole, just stroking it. "It's not as good as, like, jello wrestling, because lube tastes gross, but--I mean, not that they're eating it, but it's hard not to think about that when you're watching. Maybe that goes away? I've only seen it once. But it was great."
Spencer's half-listening, but it's distracting, having Brendon's finger on him, petting him and pushing in just a little bit. "Calm down," Brendon says, rubbing Spencer's back with his other hand. "Tranquillo, que?"
"Weirdo," Spencer mutters, but he takes a deep breath and lets it out, focuses on loosening up. Loose is just so not his normal, is the thing. There's a reason his PA is a trained masseuse.
"Whatever, you love it when I speak romance languages. You are, like, totally into my sugar. My sucre. My--wait, I don't know what sugar is in Spanish. Doesn't it seem like I should know that? But really, how often does it come up, right?"
Spencer's pretty sure Brendon's got at least one finger in Spencer's ass by now, mostly because he can feel Brendon's knuckles touching him. Maybe it's two. But two would probably feel like more. This just feels like, okay, fine. Not hot, but not bad.
"It's weird, because food words are usually the only things you know in a foreign language. But that's complete foods, like coffee and pasta and stuff. Entrees, not ingredients. Like, what's flour in French? I have no idea. But I know bread, and cake. So, like. I guess I've never baked in France. Or Quebec. Or, like. Have we ever been to Belgium? I can't remember. I should probably be able to remember that sort of thing, Spence."
Now that Brendon's been playing with his ass for a while, Spencer's kind of starting to see the appeal of it, actually. It's--the nerves around the outside of his ass are nice, and, okay, the prostate is not, like, magical unicorn pleasure or whatever but it's good, it's getting him hard, which is pretty much way more than he was expecting.
"Maybe I'm losing my memory. I forgot where my keys were the other day. It turned out they were in the pocket of my hoodie, the one from that Gym Class show we went to in LA last year, you remember? And I was cold and they only had green hoodies and you said it would clash with my outfit and I was like, 'dude, this is not an outfit, this is clothes' and then you laughed at me for, like, an hour. But it's a great hoodie."
Spencer's up on his knees, now, rocking back into Brendon's hand. Brendon's gripping Spencer's hip, leaning over him to press kisses on his back every time he takes a breath.
"Brendon," Spencer says, and pauses to gasp a little when Brendon twists his fingers, "I'm relaxed. Good job. Stop with the chitchat and suck my dick."
"Well," Brendon says, and Spencer turn his head enough to glare a little. "Yeah, all right," Brendon finishes, and pivots onto his back under Spencer, fingers still deep in Spencer's ass. "Pillow," he adds, all faux regal.
"Princess," Spencer says, and helps tuck it under Brendon's head.
"You know it," Brendon says, half muffled by the head of Spencer's cock.
The blowjob out-stimulates the fingering for a minute, and then all of a sudden the fingering is winning, and that's just weird, that Spencer wants to push back into Brendon's fingers more than he wants to push forward into Brendon's mouth. "Witchcraft," he mutters, and Brendon smiles around his cock, sucks a little harder until everything evens up again and Spencer doesn't know what he wants more, except maybe all of it.
"I am going to fuck you so good," Spencer says, "fuck, Brendon," and then he's shaking into it, squeezing around Brendon's fingers and shooting into his mouth.
Brendon swallows, mostly, wipes his face with the back of his free hand and then gently pulls his fingers out of Spencer's ass. "I should get the teacher of the year award," he crows. "I am as a god."
"You are as a dude who's actually had sex with dudes," Spencer say. "All hail you and, like, every guy in San Francisco."
"My unique talents totally gave you an ass orgasm," Brendon says, firmly. "You can't possibly do without me."
"Mmmm," Spencer allows. "I'd rather have you than not, I guess."
"Your declarations of undying devotion and love are so touching, Spence. I don't even know how to contain myself in response to that kind of emotion. I think I have to excuse myself to weep."
"Oh, come here and let me blow you," Spencer says, and that, it seems, is romance enough for Brendon.