fics_by_maple: (Spencer)
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This is the first of what may be a series of ficlets written as my sort-of non-nano writing challenge. As such there is NO BETA. There is NO PLOT. Just random little Brendon/Spencer scenes I've been collecting to enjoy writing without any pressure. Crit and comments welcome.

Sundays Through the Peephole


Sundays had long since been declared No Pants Days, the uniform consisting of a pair of boxers. In Spencer's case, usually a t-shirt as well. After nearly two hours in the bathroom spent clipping, trimming and washing, Spencer stretched out on his side with his laptop on the bed in front of him as he clicked through his Facebook feed.

"Hey. You being alone?" Brendon asked, hovering in the doorway. It was his bedroom too but he tried to give Spencer his space when he could. Spencer thought it was to somehow make up for all the time when Spencer couldn't get away from. He didn't really mind but Brendon seemed apologetic anyway.

"Nah, come in," Spencer only glanced over his shoulder but he heard Brendon inhale the scent of shampoo and soap still humid in the air as he climbed onto the bed behind him.

"Mm," he hummed into Spencer's damp hair. "What's up?"

"Looking at pictures Crys put up. I think she forgets I'm on here." He clicked through a few for Brendon who made polite, amused noises from where he had his chin hooked over Spencer's shoulder.

"Whoa, who's that?" Brendon glared at the next photo and Spencer snorted his annoyed agreement. Sometimes it was hard to believe the girls were adults already.

"I don't know but obviously we hate him."

"We totally hate him."

Spencer turned and Brendon's expression went from stern to surprised when Spencer kissed him, a thank you for the solidarity in big brotherly protectiveness.

Brendon smiled and bent his head, peeling Spencer's waistband back to kiss the faint line the elastic left on Spencer's hip. He stroked his thumb over the spot and replaced the material carefully, not letting it snap his skin and then pushed up the looser leg of Spencer's boxers and kissed the crease at the back of his thigh where his ass cheek swelled.

"They do come off if they're in your way," Spencer said with a face so strait that the smirk playing the corner of his mouth betrayed itself.

Brendon purred a deep, quiet laugh against Spencer's thigh. "Actually, I think I'm gonna go ride my bike."

"Oh. Okay. Cool."

"Yeah?" Brendon looked up at him all brown eyes of chocolate through long dark lashes and shit. Whatever ridiculous description was put to it, it was one of those moments where Brendon looked more stupidly pretty than he ought to. He'd also got much better at tuning inward and knowing when he had to expend the excess energy in his body and Spencer wasn't about to question that.

"Yeah. Go."

Brendon leaned up and smooshed his face against Spencer's cheek, kissing him on the jaw as he slipped his hand up inside the leg of Spencer's boxers and cupped his balls. "Maybe we can have sex later?" His voice was deeper than usual, his attempt at seduction mostly mock worthy.

"Well now that we have it all planned, sure."

Brendon gripped Spencer's thigh before sliding backwards off the bed. "Sweet."

"Wear your helmet."

"Yeah, I won't."

"I'll be the one laughing when you crack your head open."

But Brendon was already down the hall and Spencer couldn't make out his retort.

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