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"...but we don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to," Spencer says. He's feeling at peace with the world, happy to be home and with nothing to do for days.
"I'm not a virgin anymore, you know," Brendon disagrees, smirking like that's an accomplishment after years of touring as a front man for a band.
"I know that," Spencer says. "That's not what I meant and you know it." He drains the last of his beer and reaches back to the cooler for another one. Brendon makes 'gimme' hands and Spencer passes him one, too.
"Just saying," Brendon says, still smiling. "I can talk about rimming and everything. No need to tone it down for the Mormon boy."
Spencer laughs. "Oh yeah baby," he says, "li-li-li-lick me!"
Brendon cracks his new beer open. "Yeah, I like that," he says, except, it doesn't sound like a continuation of Spencer's swagger joke — more like a simple declaration.
"Wait, what, really?" Rimming is something Spencer has only seem in porn. It was always hot. Dirty, sure, but viscerally hot.
Brendon sucks on his beer. "Yeah man," he says. "It's good. You haven't tried it?"
"Uh, no," Spencer says, because the way Brendon isn't so much drinking his beer as tonguing it isn't exactly conducive to complicated vocabulary.
"You should. It's really cool." Brendon sits back, smiling a tiny smile like he's reminiscing or something.
Spencer wonders if Brendon has been the rimmer or the rimm-ee, but he doesn't think he can ask that, not right out. They've already had three beers each, but that seems like the kind of question you'd need to be shitfaced for. Instead he belatedly opens his own beer and takes a drink.
"You done a lot of shit like that?" he asks. Spencer himself hasn't tried rimming, but he's not entirely vanilla, he doesn't think. He tied Haley up once and spanked her. She never suggested that again, but it was really hot.
"Umm," Brendon considers. He gets more mellow on beer than Spencer. Spencer mostly gets flushed and horny. "Like, stuff that's not fucking and sucking and stuff? Is that what you mean?"
"Yeah," Spencer says. He knows Brendon's been with guys and girls, but Brendon's never talked much about what he got up to with them. Spencer always figured Brendon was kind of repressed about sex.
"Well okay, then I guess there's... some bondage, yeah, and wax, and fire play once, and clothespins, and some servitude, which was cool. And double penetration once, although that was kind of intense. Oh, and yeah, a lot of impact play."
"Huh?" Spencer says.
Brendon leans back into his chair, taking a long drink. "Yeah, like, you know, paddles and floggers and things."
Spencer blinks. Impact play. That sounds like a drummer thing.
"Wait, what? Did you say double penetration?"
Brendon shakes his head ruefully. "Yeah, that was a bit much. But it was good, I don't regret it. I mean, fisting was easier."
"What?"
Brendon looks at Spencer. "Oh," he says, "Right, you're like, vanilla, aren't you?"
Spencer head is buzzing. He doesn't think that's the alcohol. He puts his beer bottle down on the floor. "I, uh, thought I wasn't," he says, because he knows when he's been outclassed, and Brendon just listed a whole lot of things Spencer isn't entirely sure he knows what they are.
Brendon laughs, but it's not unkind, and Spencer wonders how they got into this conversation in the first place. Right, it was Spencer implying that Brendon might not want to talk about sex. Which is apparently really not the case.
"It's okay man, we don't have to talk about it. It's just, you asked."
Spencer is still kind of reeling from the shift in perspective — geeky, sometimes really awkward Brendon being into all this stuff and doing it — but he's not about to back away and pretend he didn't ask now.
Also, the images of Brendon getting off on, what was it, clothespins? Getting beat on with floggers, and fisting, what the fuck?
All of that is really, really hot. Suddenly, Spencer can't get the images of Brendon, sweaty and naked, out of his mind. He is getting almost painfully turned on, but what's a hardon between friends, right?
"Did you really?" he finds himself asking, because out of all of that... "Fisting?"
Brendon drinks more beer. "Yeah," he says. "I wanted to see if I could do it, you know? And I could. It just took a little patience."
Spencer laughs, because he just can't help himself. "Patience? When have you ever been patient about anything?"
"I can be patient," Brendon says, smiling a little smile that somehow looks secret. He's playing with his bottle, moving the pad of his thumb back and forth over the edge of the label. "If someone makes me."
Oh fuck.
Spencer moves in his chair, trying to adjust himself without making it entirely obvious that's what he's doing. Brendon, staying still for someone, because they made him. Maybe he was even tied down.
"It was a guy, right?" Spencer asks, because he has to know. "A guy that did that?" He's looking away into the summer night, but all he's taking in is what's inside his own mind right now.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "There's women who do it too, but yeah, this was a guy. He eased me into it. It took a while, but it was something I wanted, and he was good at knowing when to push and when to wait, so we got there."
Spencer looks back up into Brendon's face. He feels hot, and he's probably bright red, but he doesn't think he cares about that. Brendon is watching Spencer, almost like he's studying him. Like Spencer is interesting somehow.
"Yeah, he used his fingers first, stretched me out, slow, with so much slick."
Spencer can't breathe. All he can do is stare at Brendon, and listen to the incredibly hot words coming out of Brendon's mouth.
"And then he tucked his thumb in," Brendon says, dark eyes staring into Spencer's face. "And he just pushed, until it was all inside."
Spencer breathes out with a small sound he can't hold back and gasps another breath in.
"You're into that," Brendon says. "You're into that, big time."
Spencer doesn't have anything to say in reply. Brendon, writhing on some guy's whole hand, clamping down on his wrist. It's too much for him to handle.
Brendon puts his empty bottle on the table with the others. He leans forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees. "Spencer," he says. "How drunk are you?"
Spencer recognizes a crucial question when he hears it. He just doesn't know where Brendon is going with it, which answer would be the best one.
"Spence?"
"I've had three and a half beers," Spencer says, because facts are easy, facts are good.
"Wanna make out?"
Spencer blinks. "I thought you were going to offer to demonstrate fisting," he blurts. Then he feels his face getting even hotter, because fuck, why would he even say that? What the fuck is wrong with him?
Brendon bursts out giggling, folding himself until he's burying his face in his knees. "No dude," he manages when he comes up again, "I think that's best done sober. Seriously though, wanna make out?"
Right now, that's a no-brainer.
"Uh, yeah," Spencer says. He doesn't normally make out with guys, but Brendon is his best friend. He wouldn't make it weird. And he can't get over how fucking hot Brendon is right now.
Brendon gets up from his chair, and Spencer thinks he's going to suggest they move somewhere else, but instead Brendon climbs onto Spencer's lap, planting his knees on either side of Spencer's thighs. For a moment there, Spencer doesn't know what to do with Brendon suddenly so close, right up against him. Spencer kind of can't comprehend how Brendon can be regular Brendon, just his friend, and then the next moment so devastatingly hot. It's giving him whiplash of the brain or something. It's not making him any less turned on, though.
But then he shakes his head. He's done this. He knows how to kiss someone.
He goes to kiss Brendon, but Brendon puts his hands in Spencer's hair, on either side of his head, and holds him there. Brendon watches him for a moment, looking into his face as if Spencer is something worth studying very closely.
"What?" Spencer finally asks, whispering, because Brendon is so close, but not coming any closer, and he's kind of hovering over Spencer's lap instead of settling down. Spencer would really like Brendon to settle down, to grind against him and kiss him, but maybe Brendon has changed his mind after all.
"Nothing," Brendon says, a small smile growing on his face.
Then he kisses Spencer, and it's so fucking good.
Spencer puts his hands on Brendon's hips, tugging him down. He likes doing this with girls, the way he can just grab their hips and put them where he wants them. He's even fucked girls like this a couple of times.
Brendon is a guy, though, and feels different. He even smells different, a distinct guy smell that permeates everything.
Spencer can't get what Brendon told him out of his mind. All the while he kisses Brendon, he thinks about that unknown guy, putting his fingers into Brendon's ass, pushing his whole hand into him, while Brendon stayed still for him and let him do it. Brendon, who never stays still for anything.
It's exciting, in a way sex hasn't been since... maybe since he was new to sex.
Spencer leans his head back, breathing through his mouth, and Brendon immediately attacks his neck with his lips and teeth. Spencer digs his fingers into Brendon's shoulder, and Brendon hums against his skin.
"Would you," Spencer starts.
Brendon bites under Spencer's ear and Spencer groans. "What?" Brendon says when Spencer doesn't continue. "Would I what?"
Spencer tries again. "Would you let me..." There's probably a better way to ask, but Spencer doesn't know it. "Would you, for me? Would you let me?"
Brendon rolls his hips against Spencer and Spencer sinks lower into his seat, tilting his own hips and using Brendon as leverage to push back. It feels good, really good, like the possibility of something great.
"Let you fist me?" Brendon asks against Spencer's throat, and Spencer shivers from the way the air flows over his skin. "Or would I just let you, period?"
Spencer would definitely like to put his hand inside Brendon, feel him so tight and hot around his wrist, but that's not what he meant.
"Would you stay still for me?" he asks, the words and meaning suddenly flashing clearly into his mind. "Would you give that to me?"
"Oh," Brendon says.
He crosses his forearms across Spencer's chest, supporting himself. He presses his forehead against Spencer's.
"Is that what you want from me?" he asks.
Spencer breathes a few moments, trying to think, because it's a serious question, and he doesn't have a clear answer. He does want it, of course, but Brendon's question seems like the kind that has a lot of implications that Spencer had better be sure he understands completely before he answers it.
This would probably be easier if he wasn't so horny.
"Is it what you want?" he counters.
"Maybe," Brendon says, kissing him quickly. "But not right now."
Spencer feels a release of tension he didn't even know was building. He slides his hands over Brendon's back, beneath his shirt, and Brendon presses his hips down, breathing against Spencer's face. It feels quiet and intimate, and Spencer is suddenly fiercely happy with just this, Brendon in his lap like this.
"Right now," Brendon continues, "I want to get off. That okay with you?"
"Yeah, that's good," Spencer says and kisses Brendon again.
He doesn't want to come in his pants, but that seems to be what Brendon is aiming for. Brendon grinds himself down onto Spencer's cock, hard enough that it's a little painful. Spencer thinks he should probably be more freaked out by Brendon's cock, hard and unmistakable against him, but all that does is make it more exciting.
Spencer follows the line of Brendon's thighs to the curve of his ass with his hands, and it suddenly occurs to him that Brendon might let Spencer fuck him. The thought makes his breathing stutter, and he digs his fingers into Brendon's ass hard, imagining how that would spread Brendon's ass cheeks wide if he was naked. Spencer would be able to see, if he had Brendon on a bed. If Brendon was on his stomach, with his knees pulled wide apart like this, and Spencer was behind him, spreading him open so he could see.
"Yeah, come on," Brendon mutters, as if cheering Spencer's thought processes on.
Spencer moans and closes his eyes, giving up on the idea of not coming in his pants. Instead he uses his grip on Brendon's ass to rub himself off against Brendon. He lets his head fall forward, mouthing at Brendon's neck.
"I want, I want... please," Brendon mumbles, but Spencer doesn't think that's directed at him in particular. Brendon likes to talk, and this probably isn't anything different.
"Bite me," Brendon says, the tone of his voice plaintive, begging.
Spencer bites down on Brendon's neck, on the curve of muscle close to his shoulder. It's possibly a little too hard, because Brendon gives a wordless shout. Spencer is prepared to apologize, but Brendon shoves himself almost desperately against Spencer and comes, his breathing shuddering and loud close to Spencer's ear. It's hot enough that Spencer is unexpectedly almost there, dragging his tongue against the slight indentation of where he bit Brendon, because that's suddenly the hottest thing about this whole situation — the way Spencer can lick into the marks he made on Brendon's skin.
He comes, shaking, with his mouth open and tongue pushed against Brendon's neck.
It takes a minute after that for Spencer to collect himself. He swallows and wipes his cheek on Brendon's wet skin, still breathing hard. Brendon is a good and comfortable weight against him, but Spencer is rapidly beginning to regret that they didn't pause long enough to take their clothes off. His pants are starting to feel pretty disgusting.
"So," he says, immediately regretting opening his mouth when Brendon tenses against him and climbs off. Brendon stumbles a little, getting up.
"Gonna go take a shower," Brendon says, waving his hand vaguely at the patio door. He does meet Spencer's eyes saying it, but he disappears through the door before Spencer can think of something to reply with.
Spencer sits there for a moment. He's pretty sure it's weird that Brendon left like that. Spencer is the one who should be freaking out about gay sex — Brendon has had gay sex a lot of times, after all. Although possibly it's not the gay sex that had Brendon escaping to the shower. Maybe it's the gay sex with Spencer that was somehow upsetting.
Spencer bites his lip and contemplates what to do about that, but nothing obvious comes to mind. He sighs and heaves himself up out of the chair. He looks at the empty beer bottles, and the cooler where the full bottles that are left are slowly becoming lukewarm.
He doubts Brendon will come back after his shower. Spencer might as well go wash himself up and go to bed. He can always talk to Brendon tomorrow.