Author: me! manipulant
Warning: D/s undertones, sort of rough play
Word Count: 1700
Summary: Spencer finds out that Brendon's nipples are wired straight to his dick. Oh exploitable.
Notes: hermette and pennyplainknits wanted porn about Brendon's neck. And nipples. Who was I to pass that reasonable demand right on by? (this is shameless porn.) Thankyou to look_alive for looking this over for me! (title comes from Be Your Bro, by Those Darlins.)
"Shit," Brendon yelps, his eyes closed tight while his hips twitch, jerking up against nothing. His mouth falls open and his back arches, shoving him back against Spencer, who swears he heard Brendon’s neck crack from how fast he just moved in his lap. Brendon’s hair is soft against his neck, and Spencer licks his lips and twists a little, his fingers tugging Brendon’s nipple tight. The skin’s slowly going from just a darker tan, nothing unusual, to flushed-red, almost purple, the longer Spencer messes with it.
"Oh, oh fuck, oh jesus fucking - " Brendon gasps, reaching up to grab Spencer’s wrist and squeeze gently. His ankles are curling around Spencer’s legs, hooking around his shins, and Spencer’s suddenly lightheaded at how gone Brendon is, his hips already shifting restlessly, his fingers sliding down Spencer’s arm, digging in a little. "Spence," he whines, grabbing for Spencer’s other hand, trying to push it back down his belly, into his open jeans.
Spencer hides his smirk in Brendon’s shoulder and then bites there lightly, twisting his fingers past Brendon’s ridiculous underwear until they can close around his dick, hard and leaking a little. He sucks in a breath around Brendon’s skin and tugs him free, automatically swiping his thumb over the tip of Brendon’s cock, slicking pre-come around the head. "Like that," he murmurs, not really a question.
Brendon makes a small, choked-off noise and nods, and then fucks up into Spencer’s grip a little. Spencer can feel Brendon’s hand sliding up his arm again, past his shoulder and into his hair, twining there gently. His eyes slide halfway shut because damn it, Brendon knows that’s a thing, playing with his hair, and Spencer licks Brendon’s bare shoulder, his skin salty and warm and soft.
Brendon’s fingers twist, and tug him closer, pressing Spencer against the side of his neck. Spencer has to hit pause for a second, because god - and then Brendon moans, a soft, juddering sound, and he grinds his ass harder into Spencer’s lap, twisting until he manages to find the insistent nudge of Spencer’s dick and press back against it.
Spencer’s eyes threaten to roll back into his head, but he still leans forward, dutifully licks a line down the side of Brendon’s neck. He sucks lazily at the joining between neck and shoulder, jacking Brendon idly, twisting his wrist every other stroke to feel Brendon tremble. "God, look at you," he breathes, into his ear. He grabs Brendon’s other nipple, rolling it between his fingers for a few seconds before pinching, and Brendon jolts and twitches for a few seconds, his breathing starting to rattle in his chest. "You’re fucking falling apart, and I’ve barely - "
"Shut up," Brendon snaps, getting stuck on the sibilant (sssshut up), gasping a little as Spencer scrapes his fingernail across the tip of sensitive skin in retaliation. "Oh my god, shut up," he hisses, his cheeks going bright red as he fidgets, trying for more friction. "Fucking - god, Spence, just fuck - "
"Fuck you?" Spencer stills the hand on Brendon’s dick and breathes into his ear, darting his tongue out to just touch Brendon’s earlobe. Brendon chokes on a whine and works his hips, frustrated. "Hmm?" Brendon closes his mouth and swallows noisily, and nods.
Spencer can’t help it, his hips twist up, pressing his cock more firmly against Brendon’s ass, and he thrusts against him for a few seconds. He groans, and presses his mouth back to Brendon’s neck, sucking sloppily, the sounds obscenely loud in the room. Brendon’s biting his lip, Spencer can tell by the way the little noises he’s making are suddenly muffled. He smells like - well, sweat, mainly, and a little bit of aftershave still, and then he shifts and Spencer’s rutting up into the cleft between his cheeks. Brendon grunts, and grinds back, and lets out a shaky breath.
"Oh, oh my god," he shudders, twining his fingers around Spencer’s on his cock, trying to get them to move. "Oh my god, fuck, Spence."
Spencer rolls his palm over Brendon’s nipple, and twists it, whimpering as Brendon jumps and rocks back against him. "Fuck, keep - yeah," Brendon breathes, his hand still in Spencer’s hair, still anchoring him to his neck. "God, fuck me, just - oh my god, your dick, I can’t - "
Spencer bites, closing his teeth around skin until Brendon cries out and goes still. His fingers stop twisting in Spencer’s hair, loosening until he’s just petting there, sliding over the back of his head gently. He’s shaking, hard, and Spencer lets up a little, sucking until he knows there’s going to be an angry-looking bruise later, one the collar won’t cover, and then Spencer moves his mouth up, pressing a line of kisses up the cord of his neck.
" - need it so much, just push my pants down and do it, jesus, get it out, I need you to - " Brendon’s babbling, still petting Spencer’s hair, shivering against him. His voice is wrecked, like he’s been going down on Spencer for hours, and when Spencer cranes his head he can see over Brendon’s shoulder, down his chest, and fucking christ his nipples are flushed dark and red and - and used looking.
"Fuck," Spencer whimpers, overcome. He squeezes Brendon’s fingers and cock a little, and then starts moving his hand, less of a tease this time, the quick rhythm he knows Brendon likes best. "Just push your clothes out of the way and make you sit on my dick, fucking take it."
"Oh my god," Brendon gasps, fucking up into their hands, cupping the back of Spencer’s head, pressing his cheek to Spencer’s hair. "Oh, fuck, I would, Spence, I’d be so good, you feel so good. Fucking just - push up in me, stretch me out, til I’m fucking filled up - "
Spencer groans softly, his mouth open against Brendon’s neck, his face flushed and sweaty, and he rocks up against him, using the hand on Brendon’s chest to push them tight together. "So tight, you’re always so - I’d have to go so slow, make you go slow, fucking hold you down til you can’t take it."
Brendon’s whining now, a low, constant keen in the back of his throat, his hips juddering up and back as he tries to ride down onto Spencer and then buck up into their hands. He’s a fucking furnace, burning them both up. "Oh my god," he pants, his fingers twisting back in Spencer’s hair, his voice ratcheting up a little. "Oh, oh my - fuck, Spence."
"Yeah, just - keep you still," Spencer rasps, his hand sliding over Brendon’s chest possessively, before his palm slips over Brendon’s nipple again and he presses down against the abused skin, sliding his fingertips across it. "Still and full, til I decide you’re ready. Fuck up into you, hard, and - " his breath catches on a moan, and Spencer has to press his forehead to Brendon’s shoulder, " - oh, god, you can’t touch your dick, just me fucking you, you have to come from my dick and me playing with your - your fucking tits - "
"Spence," Brendon whines, his legs tightening where they’re twined around Spencer’s. "Spence, oh my fuck, I’m gonna - "
Spencer shudders, and twists his hand on Brendon’s cock, rocking up into him hard, thrusting against him until his own hips leave the couch. He turns his face back into Brendon’s neck, setting his teeth there, feeling Brendon tense and shake against him. "Nnh, fuck," he groans, licking Brendon’s neck, "til they’re sore the next day and your suspenders rub against them all night."
"Ohhhh, jesus, jesus jesus," Brendon pants, his voice climbing higher and higher until he breaks, his fingers in Spencer’s hair shaking and spasming, his whole body going taut as he comes. Spencer can sort of feel the warmth of come sliding through their fingers, slicking them up, and he moans and untangles his hand, pressing it tight to Brendon’s belly, holding him in place as he thrusts against his ass. Brendon shivers and whimpers, the hand in Spencer’s hair sliding against the nape of his neck. "I’d be so sore the next day," he whispers, completely wrung out. "All over. God, every time I moved."
Spencer gasps and writhes, pulling Brendon tight to him, both hands on his hips now. "Fuck, almost," he pants. "Almost, Brendon, jesus."
Brendon groans a little, his head dropping back til it’s on Spencer’s shoulder. "Mmh, fuck, I’d be so hard. Shit, it’d be so hard to sing, they’d be so hard all night. You’d have to fuck me before we went on, just so I could get through the show."
"...Oh my god," Spencer says, kind of lightheaded at the image, not knowing whether to come all over himself or laugh. "Fucking shit, B, jesus."
Brendon shivers again, and works his hips back, little grunts being punched out of him every time Spencer rocks him particularly hard. "Backstage sex. That’d be good. I’d get ready beforehand, so you could just slide right in, fuck me right there."
Spencer chokes, and - fuck, the idea of it, the sudden mental image of finding Brendon in the dark and shoving his pants down and then just shoving in (taking him) - it’s enough, and Spencer curls against Brendon, jerking up against him, gasping and shaking and trying not to just fly apart in a million pieces as he shoots off in his jeans. His vision goes swimmy for a few seconds, and he slumps against Brendon’s back afterward, pressing his cheek to the knobs of Brendon’s spine. "Holy shit."
Brendon hums his agreement, and then sags back against him, turning his head to give him a weirdly shy smile. "Man, for real."
Spencer looks at him for a moment - takes in the sex hair, and the scratches on his hips, and the reddened skin around his nipples, and the - oh, jesus wept, the fucking huge bruises on his neck - and gives Brendon a sheepish smile back. "Do I look as completely fucked out as you do?"
Brendon bites his lip, and nods. Spencer considers this for a second, and then leans in, kissing him sweetly. "Good."