fics_by_maple: (Bden/Spence)
[personal profile] fics_by_maple
Again, no beta, no plot. Just random little Brendon/Spencer scenes I've been collecting to enjoy writing without any pressure. Lots touching in the shower in this one. Crit and comments welcome.

Sundays Through the Peephole

When Spencer walked in he expected to be blasted with sound from the TV in the front room, or maybe music, either live or recorded, but he didn't expect silence. There were a few random lights on throughout the house but it was mostly dark.

"Hellooo. What's up?" he called into the quiet. After putting the milk and beer that he'd picked up in the fridge, he peeked into the laundry room entry. Bike and surfboards were there though moved since this morning. That's when he realized that since Bogart hadn't greeted him demanding to know where Brendon was, he must be with Brendon somewhere inside.

The music room was empty so he turned off the light and shut the door. It was futile, the dog was always in there anyway, but his mother's rule about no dogs near his drums still compelled him.

The light was out in the bedroom but on the bed he could just see Bogart's head raise up to peer at him over Brendon, sprawled and sleeping face down, the briny smell of ocean and sweat clung faintly in the air. "Well, yeah," Spencer whispered to himself. If Brendon had gone surfing late in the day he'd be exhausted now.

Spencer made his way to the bathroom, stepping on the heels of shoes to kick them off and dropping clothes across the floor while he undressed. He turned on the light, set the shower running and instinctively put a hand to his dick to adjust. He paused before stepping into the tile bath and looked back out the door to see if he'd woken Brendon.

He hadn't. Yet.

Kneeling on the bed he straddled Brendon's thighs, extending his fingers to let Bogart sniff and say hi before spreading them over Brendon's shoulders. Into the third massaging squeeze, Brendon moaned into the comforter. "Hey. S'good."

"Hey. Come with me," Spencer said, leaning down as he spoke. "Showers running. C'mon."

"Mm, hm?" Brendon slurred, eyes still shut as he pushed himself up and off the bed. "Are you naked?" He squinted through one puffy eye as Spencer pushed him towards the bathroom.

"Well, showering with our clothes on to avoid laundry doesn't actually work. We tried that, remember?"

"I was never a fan of that plan. I just thought we should be allowed to be naked at the Laundromat so we could wash it all at once." Brendon was quick to take up banter upon waking but he still yawned through his last couple of words.

"Funny how that didn't work out either." Spencer stood behind him and lifted his t-shirt over his head, Brendon moving along with a heavy flexibility in his limbs.

"Stupid rules."

"Agreed." Any place that didn't want Brendon naked was definitely stupid. Spencer amused himself but didn't bother smiling. He just busied himself by slipping his hands into the waistband of Brendon's swim trunks and untied the inner string, then the outer tie, and pushed them down over Brendon's ass until they fell to the floor.

"Coming in?" Brendon asked as Spencer guided him forward, hands on his lower back and pulled the glass door open.

"Right behind you."

Brendon stood under the water looking up into the spray and once Spencer shut the door behind him he pulled Brendon's back against his chest, holding him close while the water fell on Brendon's front.

"Good waves today?" he kept his voice low though it still echoed off the walls.

"A few. For a little while at sunset. Some dumb fuck was fishing."

"Serious? Douche." Spencer reached for the shampoo and began lathering Brendon's hair while he talked.

"Yeah, so I just stayed on the south end of the point, you know where the …" He pointed vaguely at the faucet but Spencer knew what he meant.

"Right, but you get that weird little jetty that turns the waves there."

"Yeah." Brendon sounded either disappointed or just relaxed by the treatment he was receiving. "Um, but, yeah so it was okay at max tide, cut back and rode a long one almost down to the Shaved Ice stand thing down there."


"Yeah." He closed his eyes and let his head loll back into Spencer's hands. He'd finished washing his hair, now he was just massaging little circles into Brendon's scalp, taking the time to make him feel good, enjoying touching him in a way that had nothing to do with hardening his cock.

He continued awhile longer before having him rinse. Spencer grabbed the body wash and cleaned himself quickly and when Brendon shook his head like a dog, suds free, Spencer pulled him back again. Brendon smiled, eyes closed, making a happy little hum while Spencer put more bodywash in his palm. He circled his hands over and over Brendon's chest, along his shoulders and arms and took Brendon's wrists and raised his arms up so that he clasped his hands behind his neck. He nudged Spencer's jaw with his nose but otherwise relaxed into the backwards hugs position Spencer put him in.

He slid his hands down Brendon's stomach, down over his hips and didn't hesitate taking his soft cock in hand squeezing downward from base to tip just like he washed his own. Brendon made a quiet sound in his throat but Spencer ignored the firming in his hand and moved on to washing his balls, lifting and cupping carefully, suds rinsing through black hair and down his thighs.

"Very thorough," Brendon murmured, a dry taunt in his tone. Spencer didn't rise to the bait, he just kissed his temple and crossed over Brendon's chest to swirl more soap under his arms, careful to press firmly with the palm of his hand so it wouldn't tickle. Brendon never flinched.

Spencer didn't hurry stroking through the fine hair. He thought how lame it was that it was okay to finger a lover's ass, to fuck their mouth, engage in rough play (all of which he enjoyed, in their own right) and yet something like stroking the soft skin in the arm pit or sliding a finger between toes during a foot massage or licking across teeth in a kiss was considered weird. Conveniently for him, he'd found a boy who wasn't exactly the anti-weird himself.

"Here we go," he said simply, rotating them half under the spray, kissing Brendon one more time on the back of the neck before taking his wrists again, placing his hands on the wall. With more bodywash he swirled figure eights over Brendon's back and shoulders until he emitted a low moan and then Spencer bent down, sliding soapy hands over and then down the crack of his ass. He continued making circles like that, over and up between until Brendon no longer startled and clenched when he did it. Instead he just sighed, shifted his legs a little further apart and leaned against his forearms. When the water rinsed away the slick soap he leaned close, gave a warning kiss and a playful bite before using his tongue.
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