Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/716626.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Panic!_at_the_Disco, Bandom
  Relationship:
      Spencer_Smith/Brendon_Urie
  Additional Tags:
      Phone_Sex, Dirty_Talk, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Series:
      Part 3 of Carmen_'Verse
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-11 Words: 1974
****** he speaks the languages of love ******
by mokuyoubi
Summary
     Spencer’s in a meeting, Brendon’s alone on the bus, boredom and
     something about idle hands being the devil’s playground...
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Okay, so Spencer was the one to express an interest in the business side of
things, but that was mainly because Ryan fails so extensively at them, and
Brendon hates that aspect of being a rock star, and frankly Spencer doesn’t
trust Brent. One of them should know what’s going on between the lines of their
contract and behind the scenes of the industry, though. Since future Spencer is
apparently into all of that shit, Spencer sort of assumed he would be, too, but
he was, apparently wrong. Because this is boring as hell, and on top of it all
he’s in a really uncomfortable jacket, and his shirt is done all the way up,
and the tie he’s wearing is too tight.
In the midst of the meeting, the sound of his phone vibrating against his leg
seems deafening. Spencer looks around, feeling vaguely hunted, but no one else
has noticed. So he fishes his cell out of his pocket, angling it under the edge
of the table so he can feel the screen. The whole thing feels so high school;
it’s ridiculous.
what r u wearing
Spencer has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. You saw me this morning.
those pants were 2tight @urhips made the fabric pull
Fuck you I didnt exactly have time to go shopping. Spencer shifts self-
consciously in his seat. Patrick hadn’t said anything.
made me wanan get on my knees and suck u
Spencer’s breath catches and he casts a quick glance around him, but no one’s
paying him the least attention. Spencer doesn’t know if it’s some left over
Mormon thing, but for someone so shameless about sex, Brendon’s dirty talk sort
of fails. His past attempts have been endearing enough, but he gets embarrassed
pretty easily, and resorts to letting his actions speak for him.
right through ur pants til there all wet
u havnt asked what im wearing yet
In the background, some suit was droning about profit margins or some shit.
Spencer shifted in his seat and tried to keep his buttons from clicking as he
tapped out his response. What are u wearing?
There’s a pause, long enough that Spencer is starting to think that Brendon was
just bored while he was waiting for his pop-tarts to toast, or something, and
has now wandered on to something more interesting. Then the screen lights up
with a new text and Spencer selects read. It’s a picture, dark and grainy,
Brendon’s thumb and index finger wrapped loosely around his dick, his bare legs
stretched out towards the end of his bunk. The quality of the photo is absolute
shit, but maybe that’s what makes it so hot.
Spencer closes the phone in an automatic gesture and looks wildly left to
right, but no one’s looking, and the position of the phone would make it
impossible for anyone else to see. The phone vibrates in his hand, and he flips
it open again, unable to help himself.
ry n brent went out with zack its lonely
just sittin here pretneding my hnad is urs
Spencer swallows hard and has to fight the urge to tug at his collar or palm
his dick through his pants. Id lick my palm and get my whole hand around you
and squeeze, he writes.
fuck yea, im so fukcing hard been thinkin bout u all morning
just unzip those pants and pull ur dick ou tand suck u off like that still in
ur suit
ur hands in my hair pullin\i gotta fumble 2 get my hand down mw jeans and jerk
off whi5e im suckin
lick allover ur cock
It’s sort of a stupid thing to get turned on by, with everything else, but
Brendon’s never said the word cock before, at least not in this sort of
context, like somehow it’s okay to say dick, but cock is crossing some line. It
sounds less matter-of-fact and more…desperate. Slutty. And Spencer sort of
wants to hear Brendon actually say it. He wants to hear Brendon beg for his
cock.
Id rub it all over your lips, Spencer writes, heart thumping loudly in his
ears. Shove my cock in your mouth.
mmmm
There’s another long pause and then the screen lights up with a second picture,
this one slightly blurry, Brendon sucking on three fingers slick with saliva.
want ur cum so bad.a can tastf it
Your spelling is atrocious Spencer writes back, but his hand is shaking and he
has to delete and retype several times before it comes out legible.
cant help it ahnds r bsy
cant get my fingrs as deep as u can angels all wrong
Andfuck, Spencer can see it, Brendon all twisted around in his bunk, skin
covered in a sheen of sweat, hand between his thighs. He loves thinking of the
way Brendon’s hand looks when he’s fingering himself, three fingers tucked
tight together, working inside, pinky and thumb splayed over his ass,
alternating between jerking himself off and texting.
im drooling around ur cock want it so bad 4 u 2 cum dovwn my thr6at
fukc so close Spence
Spencer’s in the back of the conference room, just across from the door, and no
one so much as bats an eye as he ducks out. Probably used to silly rock stars
demanding to know more about the business end of things then getting bored out
of their minds. Spencer really doesn’t give a flying fuck what they think about
him, but he still can’t help but hope no one saw the way his dick was straining
against his zipper, or notice his slightly hobbled walk.
There’s a bathroom at the end of the hall, blissfully, thankfully empty.
Spencer goes into the last stall and bangs the door shut behind him, sliding
the lock in place as he thumbs through his phonebook for Brendon’s number and
hits call.
Brendon picks up on the first ring. His breathing is heavy and Spencer can hear
the slick slide of wet skin on skin. “Are you touching yourself?” Brendon
pants. There’s a little grunt at the end of his question, and Spencer knows
just how close he is.
“Getting there,” Spencer answers, and almost pops the button on his slacks
getting them open, phone wedged between shoulder and ear. He hisses at the
first touch of skin on skin and rubs his fingers over the head, thinks about
Brendon on his knees.
“I’m gonna lick you all over,” Brendon says. “Gonna suck and bite that place on
your hip that makes you squirm, ‘til it’s all purple, get one of those cock
rings so I can suck your cock as long as I want, and you can’t come until I
want you to.”
“Fuck, Brendon,” Spencer moans, trying desperately to keep his voice down, and
failing miserably, no doubt. His hips arch off the wall and he thrusts up into
his fist.
“Would you like that, Spence?” Brendon asks, and it’s like Spencer can feel
Brendon’s breath, warm, tickling his ear. “Like me telling you when you can get
off?”
“Fuck,” Spencer whines. “Yeah, that’s…”
“Don’t worry,” Brendon says, with a breathless chuckle, and Spencer can image
the look on his face, mischievous and wry. “I’ll be nice this time, I’m so
close, Spence.” He pauses and Spencer can hear all sorts of obscene sounds in
the background, knows that Brendon’s using both hands on himself now, can see
that look of concentration he gets trying to crook his fingers just right over
his prostate.
“Wish you were in here with me, Spence,” he continues. “Want your cock in my
ass almost as much as I want it in my mouth. My fingers aren’t big enough. Want
you pounding into me so hard I won’t be able to move around very much on the
stage tonight, and all throughout the show I’ll feel that sting and I won’t be
able to stop thinking about you. Would that get you hard up there behind your
kit, seeing me like that?”
Spencer makes a grunting noise that he hopes Brendon takes for assent. Brendon
huffs a laugh. “Yeah; maybe we should get a toy, an anal plug, and you can put
it in me before a show sometime, and I’ll be stretched and ready the whole
show, opened up for you, wishing it was your cock.”
“Jesus Christ,” Spencer manages, in nothing more than a strangled groan. His
dick jerks in his hand. “Brendon.”
“Wait for me,” Brendon says, and Spencer doesn’t know if he can, but Brendon
sounds so calmly confident that Spencer can’t help but try. “Do that thing at
the end you do,” he says. “Twist your wrist and do that thing with your thumb.”
Spencer does as he’s told, thighs trembling with the effort of holding back
against his orgasm, but it feels inevitable anyway. “Brendon,” he whines, and
doesn’t care that it sounds like begging.
“It’s okay, Spence, almost there,” Brendon promises. “Fuck, if I was there, so
many things I wanna do to you. Bite that place on your neck, where you still
have a bruise from the other night, suck on it so I can hear that noise you
make, in the back of your throat, suck one of my fingers in my mouth and rub it
against your hole.”
Spencer doesn’t have enough hands for all that he wants to do, and the stall is
too small, his pants tight where they’re pushed down around his thighs. “Wrap
my hand around your cock and jerk you off fast and—oh, fuck—tight,” Brendon
says, breaking on a moan. “Spence, oh fuck.”
Spencer’s right on the edge, it’s almost painful, and he knows the look on
Brendon’s face now, eyes squeezed tightly shut, bottom lip caught between his
teeth. “Fuck, Brendon, come on, please,” he breathes.
Brendon lets out a harsh breath and says “Yeah, Spence, you can do it, come for
me,” and that’s all Spencer needs. His whole body shakes with it, as he pulses
hot in his hand and down the front of his shirt. He’s vaguely aware of the
noise he makes, low and desperate, and Brendon’s answering cry as he comes,
too.
There’s nothing but the sound of their mingled breathing, in the aftermath, and
Spencer is so, so fucking thankful that no one came in during the call, and now
that he’s not on the edge any more, he can’t quite believe that they did
this—that he did this, in public, where anyone could have heard. Oddly enough,
he doesn’t mind. Brendon sort of does that to him.
He’s expecting Brendon to be shy about it, now, but after a moment Brendon
catches his breath, and Spencer can hear the wet sound of him licking his lips.
“How much longer til you’re back?” Brendon asks, his tone low and very pointed.
It makes want settle low in Spencer’s gut, and it won’t be long before
Spencer’s hard again, just thinking of Brendon, in his bunk.
“I don’t think anyone noticed that I skipped out of the meeting,” Spencer says,
checking his watch. “It’s supposed to be over in another twenty minutes.”
Brendon draws a slow breath. “The guys are gonna be gone until this afternoon.
I think you should get the driver to bring you back now.”
“Do you?” Spencer asks, and he doesn’t mean for his voice to come out so
rumbly, but Brendon makes a soft noise that says he really doesn’t mind.
“I do, Spence,” Brendon tells him earnestly. “I really need you to come fuck me
right now.”
And really, how can Spencer argue with that. He wipes his hand off on a length
of toilet paper and buttons his jacket over the wet spot on his shirt. “Be
there in ten minutes.”
End Notes
     Title from Blondie's "Call Me." Written for my wonderful and patient
     xbeax, as a very late, very apologetic bday present.
     As ever, thanks to okubyo_kitsune for looking it over and assuring me
     it didn’t suck
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