BBB ;; Void & Null [Part Five]

[bootson]

Part Four


[Part Five]

There were a few flaws in his plan. Bob was giving Spencer more looks, all wrinkled forehead and questioning eyes. Brendon was worse, if only because his sad baby deer eyes didn’t hold anything back, and Spencer hated being the one to dull Brendon’s shine.

Then there was Travie, who always had to be all fucking concerned and involved.

It took a week, but Travis finally managed to pin Spencer down. He did it by following him out to the fieldhouse after breakfast one day.

“You doing okay, Smith?”

Spencer shrugged and pushed the door open. He glanced around. The windows were repaired and cleaned, the roof shouldn’t leak anymore, and the door was fully functional. He was mostly left with a few patches where the floor needed to be reinforced.

“Yeah,” Spencer told him, off-handedly. “It’s almost done. I figure Brendon can move in the week after his party.”

Travie hummed. “You guys going to need help packing your stuff? I’ll make Bill help; he likes organizing shit.”

“I don’t know. Ask Brendon. Neither of us has much, anyway.”

“Yo,” Travie laughed. “Brendon’s not going to give a fuck about logistics. You’re the brains behind this operation.”

“You’re thinking of Bob,” Spencer pointed out. He went to the corner he’d blocked off and started carefully pressing his foot against the boards to find the three he knew needed to be pulled up.

“Why would Bob care how you move? He probably won’t let you actually do anything yourself, but that’s just what he does.” When Spencer turned to look at him, Travie was rolling his eyes.

“He’ll be too busy with his own stuff anyway.” Spencer turned away before Travie could catch the way his face heated with irritation.

Travis coughed. “Woah, man. I didn’t know you guys had actually... Brendon didn’t say anything and I figured he’d be telling everyone once that happened.” He sounded pained; Spencer ignored it.

“Whatever. He’s surprisingly full of secrets lately.”

“Wait. I think we’re talking about two different things.” Travis stepped closer, and the floor creaked; Spencer had forgotten about that one. “What kind of secrets are we talking?”

If Brendon couldn’t be bothered to say anything to Spencer, Spencer wasn’t going to be the one to tell Travis.

Setting his expression, Spencer turned to give Travis his best glower. “Ask Brendon.” He cocked his hip out and raised his eyebrows in challenge. “And please go away. I need to tear the floor up and you’re in the way.”

Travis didn’t look like he approved of the suggestion, but he just shook his head and turned around, muttering on his way out. Not that it mattered; he probably just didn’t appreciate taking orders from a slave. Spencer should probably work on remembering his place a little more often.

“Who has that sort of time anymore,” Spencer sighed and got to work. No use worrying about anything until someone called him out; they would eventually.

**********

With the invitations out and only a week left before Brendon’s party, Spencer had to alter his plan to do more work on the fieldhouse. That was all good and well, but he didn’t have any idea what else he needed to do. Once he could convince someone to move the furniture Bill had said they could swipe from the attic, Spencer could tell Brendon and Bob to get on with it.

That had to be what they were waiting for.

Spencer was halfway to the attic when he heard the exclamations. He was pretty sure that was Brendon, yelling something from outside. Much as Spencer didn’t want to be in the way, his heart was still conditioned to race when he couldn’t make out Brendon’s tone.

He squeezed the railing as he turned around, trying to force his feet to carry him back downstairs. Something was happening and he shouldn’t try to get in the way, but Brendon might need something... he might... there might be something happening down there.

Before he could remember what walking was like, Brendon was sliding around the corner.

“You are not going to fucking believe this!” He sounded caught somewhere between excited and completely confused. “We have party guests. From up North. You are going to die when you see them!”

“What?” A laugh startled out of his chest. “Who is it?”

“Come see!” Brendon was making grabby hands at him, tapping his feet to hurry Spencer along.

Spencer took a deep breath and managed to make it down. He grabbed Brendon’s hand, trying not to be too thrilled at the way Brendon squeezed.

When they reached the entrance hall, Spencer froze. This could not be fucking happening.

Blackinton and Suarez were leaning against the wall by the door, their suits completely matching except for the cravats, slapping backs and accepting hugs from half of Bill’s staff. Victoria looked perfect in her deep purple swirl skirt and the intricately embroidered red corset over her lacy camisole. She looked happy, too, batting at Travis’ hands, laughing as she reached up to tug at his hair. And Gabe fucking Saporta - looking deranged in his blue waistcoat, green shirt and gray pinstripe pants - was all wrapped up in Beckett.

“Settle down, Billvy! One spin!” Saporta pleaded, but he was laughing. “One spin between old friends.”

“You’ll drop me on my head. Put me the fuck down.” Bill practically giggled.

It was an interesting sight, Saporta leaning back to hold Bill about five inches off the floor. Bill and Saporta were roughly the same height, but Bill was little more than a twig.

Spencer stumbled back a step, and Brendon made a quiet sound when his arm was pulled. No one should have heard it, but Victoria was suddenly turning around. When she caught sight of them, her mouth dropped open and her whole face lit up.

“Little Brendon Urie and semi-scary Spencer Smith!” She crossed the room, purposefully, her long legs making the distance seem impossibly short. “How the hell have you boys been? I’ve been absolutely lost without you both.”

Before Spencer could stop it, she had her arms around both of them. Spencer tried not to, but he wrapped an arm around her shoulders while Brendon laughed into her hair. God. He’d missed her.

“Vicky-T,” he whispered, low and awed.

“You doing okay?” She pulled away to look at both of them. “They treating you all right out here? I’ll break every one of Carden’s limbs if he’s been untoward.” Victoria usually dragged her words out - it somehow made Saporta, Blackinton, Suarez, and Nate hang off her every word - but she was almost jumbling her phrases, pushing them out too quickly to be her usual wry jokes.

“Harpy!” Carden yelled from somewhere behind her. She ignored him.

Spencer surprised himself by nodding. “Yeah. They’re... It’s good. Here. It’s... nice.”

“That’s what we like to hear!” Saporta called. He was to them in a second, wrapping Brendon up in a tight hug and swinging him around. Brendon was laughing the second his feet left the floor. “See! Urie lets me swing him!”

“Sorry, I just don’t swing that way,” Bill laughed. Travie’s “He damn well better not” just made him cackle.

“How’s being free, Urie?” Saporta asked when he’d set Brendon back down.

Glancing over his shoulder at Spencer, Brendon bit his lip. His cheeks were a little pink when he turned away again. “Fucking amazing.”

“Good,” Saporta nodded. Turning then, he held a hand out to Spencer. “Smith. Still glaring all around, I see.”

“Only at you,” Spencer choked out as he shook Saporta’s hand.

“Always knew I liked you,” Saporta grinned. He clapped his hands together. “All right! We’ve been on the road for a year - “

“A day and a half,” Suarez corrected.

“- show me to a room!”

Travie waved a hand. “Same ones as always. Except Alex and Nate’s. We gave it to Brendon and Spencer.”

“I’ll move in with Ryland,” Suarez told him, already halfway to the stairs. “Nate doesn’t know when he’ll get here.”

Spencer thought he might be imagining the bitterness in Suarez’s voice. Thinking back, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Nate anywhere without Alex on his heels or vice versa; maybe the slightly dejected tone wasn’t imaginary.

“Where’s Nate?” Spencer asked, turning to Blackinton before he could help it.

Blackinton shrugged and flapped his hands in a way that Gerard would envy. “We ran into some issues with our suppliers across the bay. They’ve gotten into the business of bed slaves. Nate’s trying to catch Tom before he finalizes another deal with them.”

Spencer’s blood ran cold. Brendon took a couple steps back, angling himself half behind Spencer, like he expected someone to grab him. But he was a freeman now: legally, no one could touch him. Spencer wouldn’t let them anyway; Bob probably wouldn’t either.

“My company doesn’t deal with human traffickers,” Beckett said. He wasn’t looking at them, but Spencer knew it was for their benefit. “Nate will be telling Tom so Tom finishes the contract, but he’ll be discontinuing our business relationship. Gabanti, come. Tell me who you’ve found to sell me textiles instead.”

“Wonderful woman. Could probably break me. It’s sexy as hell,” Saporta started, following Beckett back toward the office.

Well. Spencer sighed. “This just got a hell of a lot more interesting.”

Brendon nodded. His smile was brittle around the edges when he looked at Spencer. Neither of them said anything for a long time.

**********

With Saporta and his merry band of misfits taking over the estate, Spencer had a harder time keeping track of things. It was easy to pay too much attention to Saporta yelling nonsense at Bill, or take Blackinton and Alex up on their offers of card games at all hours of the night. No one was doing anything that wasn’t absolutely mandatory or party related. Spencer wanted to be like that, just carefree and relaxed, but he couldn’t shake the way he completely stilled every time Saporta got a little loud, or someone started talking about before.

No one seemed to want to talk about when Saporta had owned them, save for Gerard.

Spencer was sitting in the floor of the lounge, leaned back against Brendon’s knees. Brendon was busy showing Victoria a song he’d been writing on his autoharp, when Gerard finally stopped dancing around it. He’d clearly been gearing up to something over the past few days, but Mikey or Frank had been able to distract him. This time, Mikey was out with Pete for the day, and Frank was harassing Ray in the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you free them?” Gerard asked, apropos of nothing. “Spencer said he was with you for two years, and Brendon was there before him. Isn’t Suarez your attorney? Couldn’t he have made it happen?”

No one said anything, all eyes turning to where Saporta was perched on the bar.

“It’s a good question,” Bob added. He was leaning against the fireplace, staring at the flames. When he looked up, Spencer almost closed his eyes at how dark Bob’s expression was.

Saporta cleared his throat. “I wanted to,” he said slowly. “But I had too many at one time. You send in emancipation papers for fifteen slaves and people talk.”

“So it was your reputation, then.” Gerard practically snarled. Expressions like that should never be on Gerard’s face; it was sort of frightening. Spencer absolutely appreciated it.

“No,” Saporta snapped. He slid off the bar and shook his head. “Look, I don’t have to explain shit to you, Way.”

“Explain it to them.”

Saporta turned to look at Bob, and Bob nodded toward the sofa. Brendon’s fingers were frozen on the autoharp strings. and Spencer was gripping his own trousers so hard he thought he was ripping the fabric. Saporta took a breath and walked around to stand in front of Spencer.

“That’s fair,” he admitted. “Look, I thought it was safer for you all if I kept your papers. I gave you a good place to stay, right? Best I could. I let you do whatever you wanted.” His voice was quieter than Spencer had ever remembered hearing it before. “I honestly thought it was better for you if I took care of everything.”

“It’s not the same as having a choice,” Gerard whispered.

Saporta nodded. “I know. I should... I should have asked you guys what you wanted. All of you.”

Victoria whispered something and Brendon spoke up. “What about later? When the tax collectors came.”

“That wasn’t his fault,” Blackinton cut in. “This one bank manager had some issues with Gabe cleaning him out in poker every week. He called in some favors and changed some records. It took us too long to clear it up.”

“He’s currently serving five years at the debtor’s prison back east. Or is that the one for violent offenders?” Alex added. He had a wry smile on his face, contradicting his next comment. “I can’t ever remember.”

It didn’t sound like the whole story, but Spencer had more important things to worry about than the details.

“Why didn’t you get us back?” Spencer heard himself say. It’s like his mouth had disconnected from his brain and was pushing out strings of words that were pulling him apart at the seams. Brendon’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Ryland came for Victoria. Jon, he was on contract to work off his debts with you, but you left him there. You left us all there. If you cared so fucking much...”

“Spencer, I’m sorry.” Saporta sounded wretched. His forehead was creased and his mouth turned down further than Spencer had ever seen it. “All my accounts were frozen for weeks. We had Vicky-T’s papers, but I have no idea where the hell Jon’s were. And that fucker with the sales house had already laid down money on all of you. Alex tried to pull some legal voodoo and make him hold off on moving, but without government clearance, we couldn’t do anything. We tried to track you down, but we were too late.”

“What are you doing now? Brendon, he’s free. I’m here.” Each word was more clipped than the last. It sounded more like a string of single words than full sentences. He almost stopped there, but Brendon’s nails were digging harder into his shoulder; they both needed answers. “They could be anywhere with anything happening to them. What are you doing about that?”

Saporta took a step back. “Everything we can. Tom’s hitting the main ports, and we’ve paid a few detectives to run some inland searches. We thought we were close, but they must have changed hands or been taken to a summer estate or some shit.” Gabe shoved a hand through his hair, distracted and agitated. “We’re going to get them back. I swear on...whatever you want me to. I swear; I’m getting them back. I’ll pay whatever it takes.

Spencer pushed to his feet, somehow making himself ignore the way Brendon clutched at him. “Thank you. For that. It’s not going to help Ryan or Jon, but. Thank you.” Surprisingly, he meant it. Taking a deep breath, Spencer nodded again and headed for the door.

A few discordant notes filled the silence; there was fabric shifting on the sofa. Just before the door shut behind him, Spencer heard Bob say “I’ll go.” Spencer didn’t stop to ask questions.

There were footsteps not far behind him the whole way through the house and up the stairs, through the trapdoor and into the attic. Spencer kept moving, not sure where he was going but just walking aimlessly. He reached the far back wall and its sheet-covered sofa before he considered stopping.

Stepping up onto seat cushions, Spencer turned and sat on the back, leaning against the wall. He stared down at the gray sheet and tried not to wince when Bob sat down.

Bob leaned against the sofa, pressed close to Spencer’s right leg. Spencer waited for him to say something, waited for questions and comments he should have known wouldn’t come. Brendon would have been talking. He would have been on his knees so he could look at Spencer with concerned eyes and asked a million questions, coaxed Spencer into talking until he was sure Spencer was okay again. Spencer probably would have kissed him to both thank him and shut him up.

This wasn’t like that. Bob seemed content to wait. He sat there, staring straight ahead and not saying anything. It was about as maddening as it was calming. Spencer sort of wanted to jump on him, but he knew he couldn’t.

“You should go check on Brendon,” Spencer finally told him.

Bob scoffed. “He’s fine. He’s with Victoria. He doesn’t really hold the grudge against them that you do.”

“Are you saying,” Spencer snapped, “that I shouldn’t be mad at Saporta for not letting us go? I get it, but -”

“Not what I meant, Spencer.” Bob turned then. He pressed his arm to the back of the sofa, fingers lightly brushing Spencer’s side; it wasn’t helping matters. “Saporta was the first kind person Brendon was around. He’s a little grateful. You’re family loved you; they didn’t sell you to make rent.”

“Dowry,” Spencer corrected, feeling a little sick like he did every time Brendon’s story came up. “They sold him to get a dowry so his sister could marry some minor lord.”

“Still. Gabe gave Brendon a family. He gave him you.”

“Stop,” Spencer whispered. “You can’t say things like that. Not when... Not when you and Brendon are doing whatever you’re doing and I’m just distracting him.”

“Spencer?”

Leaning forward, Spencer pressed his face to his knees. He let his hands curl around his ankles in an effort to hold himself still. He wasn’t sure it worked but it was the best he could do.

“I know,” he mumbled into his knees. “I saw you in the stable. I tried to stay out of your way, but... he’s Brendon. I can’t just let that go, not until he says. Not until that’s what he wants, what’s going to make him happy. I... I’m sorry, but I can’t just let him go. Not even for you. Maybe not even if you ask me to.”

Forcing himself to look at Bob, Spencer turned his head until his cheek was against his knee. For the first time ever, Bob’s mouth was slightly agape. His eyes were wide and his forehead wrinkled. He looked absolutely ridiculous; Spencer wanted to crawl into his lap anyway.

“You’re such a dumb little fuck,” Bob whispered. He shook his head and smiled sort of softly.

Bob reached out to run his fingers over Spencer’s cheek. Spencer’s eyes closed for all of a second, just to savor the feeling, before Bob told him he wanted Spencer to stay away from Brendon. Somewhere in that second, Bob leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Spencer’s lips.

Spencer’s eyes flew open; he took a deep breath, leaning away. “What...”

Shaking his head, Bob slipped his fingers into Spencer’s hair. He moved his fingers in a light massage, and Spencer bit down on his lip. “And people think Brendon is the oblivious one.”

Opening his mouth to ask just what the hell that meant, Spencer lost his train of thought. Bob was just looking at him with these bright blue eyes, and his face was open in this way that showed everything he was feeling: fondness, hope, something Spencer didn’t know how to name. It was heady and Spencer didn’t know how to deal with it.

He probably shouldn’t have chosen to lean forward and meet Bob halfway, but he never claimed to have much willpower. The angle was awkward, and Spencer was practically falling off the back of the sofa, but, Bob’s mouth.

Bob coaxed his lips open, hesitant, in this way where Spencer didn’t even notice it happening until Bob’s tongue was stroking his. Spencer made this tiny sound, something like a whimper that he wanted to be embarrassed about but couldn’t find the energy. He shifted, trying to get closer, nearly slipping off the sofa, but Bob caught him.

Using a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, Bob guided him down until Spencer was straddling his lap. It was so much better like this. Spencer cupped Bob’s face in his hands - Bob’s beard scratchy and somehow the hottest thing ever - and tilted Bob’s head back. Bob ran his hands up the back of Spencer’s shirt, his blunt nails catching against the scars Spencer tried to forget were there.

Spencer rocked his hips down against Bob’s, trying to press closer if only by inches, and earned a groan for his trouble. That’s about the part where Spencer stopped thinking all together. Bob’s fingers were digging into his back, and Bob was biting at his lips. Spencer broke out of the kiss, gasping for air and pressing more insistently down against Bob.

“Fuck, look at you,” Bob whispered. He sounded awed; Spencer hid his face by sucking at the soft skin hidden behind Bob’s ear.

Bob grunted, tangling a hand in Spencer’s hair to pull his head back. He went straight for Spencer’s neck, skimming his teeth down his throat and sucking at this spot just above his collarbone. Spencer whined, holding onto the back of Bob’s head with one hand and using the other to brace against the wall.

When Bob bit down, Spencer cried out and thrust sharply down, the sharp pain going straight to his cock. Bob moved against him, tiny shifts of his hips. The friction of Spencer’s clothes against his hardening cock was just the right side of too much.

Spencer tugged Bob’s head back up to get at his mouth. His hands were gripping Bob’s shoulders, and shit, why were there so many clothes in the way?

“Off,” Spencer whined, mostly saying it around Bob’s tongue.

Bob chuckled; the vibrations tickled against Spencer’s face. Spencer kissed him again, biting down at the same time he pressed their hips together just enough to have them both panting. Bob pushed Spencer back, not far but enough to tug his own shirt over his head before tackling Spencer’s. As soon as his shirt was out of the way, Spencer leaned back in, gasping at the feel of skin on skin.

He arched his back, trying to feel as much as he could, his skin burning from how warm Bob was. It was almost like being with Brendon, the ridiculous heat of it all. Spencer tried not to picture Brendon’s face; that was easier when he caught Bob’s lower lip between his teeth and heard Bob hiss.

Bob slid his hand down Spencer’s back, his calluses slipping over the thin sheen of sweat already forming all over Spencer’s body. Dropping his hands lower, Bob caressed his ass, gripping down suddenly. Spencer whined, squirming even as Bob pulled him down until the hard lines of their cocks lined up in a dirty grind.

Spencer licked and nipped his way down Bob’s throat, scratching his blunt nails down Bob’s chest. When his hands hit Bob’s trousers, he went straight for the fastenings. There was a small bow tied in the strings instead of buttons. It should have been easier, but what the fuck.

“Who the hell ties themselves into their clothes?” Spencer most certainly did not pout when he leaned back to see what he was doing.

Bob chuckled, low and gravelly enough to make Spencer shudder. “Here, let me.”

The next thing Spencer knew, Bob had lifted him by the waist and dropped him onto his back on the sofa. Spencer stared as Bob went to work on the buttons of Spencer’s pants. “The manhandling is kind of turning me on.” He meant it to be sarcastic, but, well.

“I’m just getting started,” Bob promised, with a completely wicked slant to his lips.

Bob let his touches linger, fingers digging in just enough for Spencer to feel it as he deftly undid the buttons and worked Spencer’s trousers down his legs. He stopped to tug at Spencer’s shoes, kissing the inside of Spencer’s thighs as he worked.

“Too slow,” Spencer panted.

Shaking his head, Bob managed to pull Spencer’s clothes all the way off. Spencer took a minute to let his mind freak out about being so sprawled out, cock flushed and resting against his stomach, and vulnerable in a way he didn’t have to be with Brendon. He almost wanted to cover himself up; Bob was with Brendon, and no one in the right mind would want to trade him and his perfect ass for Spencer and his too-wide hips and burn marks on his chest.

Bob stood, staring. He licked his lips, fingers paused where they were on his still mostly tied trousers. Spencer squirmed and thought, what the hell, might as well give Bob a show. He slid a hand down his chest, fingers tickling his stomach before tracing the stiff line of his cock. He groaned, hips jerking up into his own touch. The sound Bob made was neither human nor machine.

Spencer wanted to hear it all the time. Except there was one thing he wanted more. “Bob. Please. Want to see.”

Without waiting for any more permission than that, Bob shucked off the rest of the clothes. He was on Spencer immediately, body wider than Spencer’s, stronger, holding him down. Spencer would feel disappointed that he didn’t get to look, but he had all of Bob’s hot, hot skin against his own.

Bob’s stomach brushed Spencer’s cock. Spencer thrust up, trying to sustain the touch, and reached down to hold tight to Bob’s hips. Whining - honest to God whining - Bob wedged his hand between them, using his thumb to swipe over the head of Spencer’s cock. Spencer writhed – wanton and unashamed – when Bob shifted and wrapped his hand around both of them.

Bob’s rhythm was slower than Brendon usually allowed, but it was perfect, helping the pressure curl and build in Spencer’s stomach. Spencer tried to keep up, but Bob’s cock was sliding against his, the heads catching in a not unpleasant way. God. Spencer just wanted more.

He was babbling, talking nonsense that he couldn’t concentrate on. Boldly, he gripped Bob’s ass, pulling him down hard. Bob bit down on the juncture of Spencer’s shoulder and neck. That was all it took for the pressure to break. Spencer threw his head back, eyes unseeing as Bob stroked him through it. The slide was easier, wet and sticky with Spencer’s come.

Spencer lost track of everything, but Bob was suddenly stilling above him, hand squeezing tight enough to make Spencer whimper if not for how delicious the heat of Bob coming against his skin was.

“Fucking...” Bob didn’t finish, collapsing against Spencer’s body and kissing him with something close to possession.

The afterglow didn’t last as long as Spencer would have liked.

He was still staring at Bob’s face, watching his cheeks start to lose their flush and his eyes stop sparkling quite so much. And this was the part where Spencer got to hear that he was a mistake. Wonderful!

But Bob didn’t say anything. He just tugged at the corner of the sofa cover-slash-sheet and wiped his hand, cleaned them both up. Spencer hated the way his breath caught and his stomach jumped at the touch, his dick aching like it was trying to stir in interest even though it was too soon. Spencer tried to think of something to say, something that would make the squirmy, uncomfortable feeling in his chest go away.

Before he could work out his thoughts, Ray was yelling up the stairs, something about dinner or desserts or death, something with a ‘d’ anyway. Spencer stared at Bob for a long moment, biting his lip hard enough to leave marks and fighting a blush. Bob leaned up, catching his mouth for a kiss, forcing Spencer to stop hurting himself.

“Give us a minute!” He yelled in the general direction of the door. Bob smiled at him, soft and sated, before moving to get dressed.

Spencer was mostly on autopilot as he did the same.

**********

Dinner was louder than normal, even though Gabe seemed unusually subdued. Gerard was looking smug, but Spencer didn’t really care about what had happened once he left. He just sat in his seat beside Brendon and picked at his vegetables. He spent a lot of time pretending he didn’t see the looks Bob kept sending him, but he couldn’t help it.

Fuck. Brendon was going to be so pissed. Or maybe not. This was all getting too confusing.

He sent one last sad look at Brendon and excused himself while everyone was laughing about Nate setting fire to Alex’s room under questionable circumstances.

Spencer wanted to wander around, but it was too dark out and he didn’t like carrying lanterns when it was windy. Instead, he headed upstairs and tried to get ready for bed.

It was still too early to sleep when he slid under his quilt. He pulled the oil lamp a little closer and reached for the book he and Brendon were both reading. Brendon was about twenty pages ahead, and Spencer was trying to catch up because Brendon was shit at keeping the plot twists to himself.

He was two pages in when Brendon came to find him.

“Hey,” Brendon smiled. He pulled the door closed and put his candle out before getting ready for bed. His clothes ended up in a misshapen pile by one of the chairs, but Spencer would deal with that in the morning, as always.

Stripped down to his underwear, Brendon inched closer to Spencer’s bed. Head tilted down, Brendon looked up through his eyelashes. Something sick curled in Spencer’s stomach. He put the book away and closed his eyes.

“Bren... I. I have to tell you something.” His voice was rougher than usual, but clearing his throat didn’t help.

Brendon sat on the edge of the bed, scooting back until he was against the headboard beside Spencer. “Okay. What is it?”

“You’re not going to like it,” Spencer told him. “You might hate me for it.”

“I’m not going to hate you.” So, so earnest.

His head made a low thunk when it hit the wall. “I had sex with Bob. Earlier. In the attic.” Spencer very carefully kept his eyes trained on the ceiling.

This was it. Right now was when Brendon told him to go, that he didn’t want Spencer here anymore, that he couldn’t trust Spencer anymore. He was going to say Spencer was stealing from him, something. It was going to hurt and Spencer didn’t know if he’d physically be able to keep it together before Brendon left him behind with a slammed door to keep him company.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Spencer repeated, incredulous.

Brendon rested his head against Spencer’s shoulder and reached for his hand. When their fingers were linked, he went on. “Yeah. It’s okay. We had sex in the lounge last week. Don’t tell Bill.”

Spencer laughed because it was expected, even if he didn’t feel it. “Yeah, okay.” He knew something had happened with Brendon and Bob, but he wasn’t sure. Somehow, hearing it come from Brendon made it worse.

“Are you upset?”

“No,” Spencer promised. “I really can’t be now, right?”

“Hey.” Brendon turned until he was fully facing Spencer. “Hey, look at me.” As soon as Spencer turned, Brendon pressed a kiss to his chin. “It’s okay.”

“It’s really not,” Spencer insisted. He hoped he didn’t sound as miserable as he felt.

Tugging until Spencer’s arm was around his shoulders, Brendon snuggled up close. He nosed against Spencer’s neck, pressing light kisses up to his ear. He laughed, just a little. “You’ll see,” he whispered, breath brushing Spencer’s skin. He nipped at the spot behind Spencer’s ear, the place that always made Spencer whine and beg. “Just wait. It’ll all be fine.”

Wanting so desperately to believe him, Spencer turned until he found Brendon’s mouth with his. He could worry about all of this falling down around his ears tomorrow.

**********

Except that didn’t happen. Nothing crashed down on him, no one told him to go away or that he was a horrible friend and an even worse boyfriend. None of that happened, but things started to get weird. Weirder, really, since things were pretty fucked up to begin with.

Mostly, it was Bob and Brendon. Whenever Spencer stumbled across them, they were always leaned close together, whispering. Brendon almost always seemed downright frantic, but Bob’s voice was level and soft. It seemed to work wonders at getting Brendon to calm down, or maybe that was just Spencer showing up and interrupting.

Spencer spent a lot of time trying to avoid them, which turned out to be pretty easy. Ryland and Alex were doing this weird thing where they kept trying to pull him into conversation. He showed them the fieldhouse just because they asked, and Spencer sort of liked the way Bob’s expression went just a little pinched when Spencer agreed.

He stayed up late playing cards and alternately winning enough to make Ryland bitch and losing it all to Alex a couple hands later. They were all trying to break even, and Spencer refused to be the one to call it quits, even when Brendon came along and practically climbed in his lap with covered yawns and pleading eyes.

Then there was the touching. Whenever Bob got the chance, he had at least one hand on Spencer. Fingers pressing against the small of Spencer’s back, shoulders pressed close together, hand running through Spencer’s hair: it was always something, and Frank seemed to find it positively hysterical. Spencer didn’t want to like it so much, but he couldn’t resist leaning back into the touches when he could.

For his part, Brendon had taken to laying some sort of claim on Spencer. Every time he left a room, Brendon stopped to press a quick kiss to Spencer’s lips. When he came back, there was always a kiss to Spencer’s cheek. Whenever they sat together, Brendon burrowed in closer than usual and breathed heavily against Spencer’s skin.

All of this was great, but it was also incredibly maddening. It was always the worst when all three of them were together.

Spencer tried to hide after dinner, but Brendon followed him, and, as was becoming the norm, Bob followed where Brendon led.

“So,” Brendon started, pushing Bob to sit beside Spencer on the bed. He flopped down on Bob’s other side. “Pete’s delivering our clothes for the party tomorrow. You’re going to let me dress you, right?”

Although he tried not to, Spencer laughed. “As long as I don’t have to match the purple waistcoat you want.”

“Don’t hate on my master plan of introducing color into your life.” Brendon leaned around Bob to stick his tongue out.

“At least he’s not letting Pete have free rein again,” Bob chuckled.

Spencer rolled his eyes and groaned. “I was new. I didn’t know better than to let Pete make whatever the hell he wanted.”

Bob ran his fingers through Spencer’s hair in apology. The movement was smooth and soothing; Spencer sighed.

“Maybe we should get you in blue,” Bob decided. “It’ll work with your eyes.”

Spencer turned his head, not enough to dislodge the hold Bob had on his hair, but enough to catch his eyes. “Does that mean we get you in color, too?”

Brendon cut off Bob’s response. “He refuses to put on anything not black, white, or boring.”

“Practical,” Bob corrected, poking Brendon in the shoulder.

Spencer saw it coming, but he still laughed fondly when Brendon caught Bob’s finger with his teeth. Bob growled and flicked Brendon’s nose. Brendon pouted, and Spencer kept laughing.

The sound seemed to capture Brendon’s interest. Always going for shock value, Brendon climbed over Bob. It took a little maneuvering, but he settled himself over Spencer’s lap, thighs bracketing Spencer’s. He traced his fingers over Spencer’s nose, along his eyebrows, down to his lips.

Eyes sliding half-closed, Spencer didn’t bother hiding his goofy smile when Brendon nuzzled their noses together.

Spencer stopped, his mouth going slack against Brendon’s. His heart was racing, mind spinning, and he felt a little like he was going to throw up.

“Brendon. Brendon, stop,” Spencer begged. He shook Bob’s hand out of his hair and tightened his hold on Brendon’s waist. Lifting with everything he had – not that it took much effort since Brendon was still kind of tiny – Spencer pulled Brendon up. Somehow, he managed to shove Brendon into Bob’s lap and get to his feet.

Once standing, he couldn’t seem to hold still. His whole body seemed to be wracked with tiny shivers, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He alternated between shoving them in his pockets and just waving them around in meaningless gestures. Pacing wasn’t helping either. Spencer kept stopping to glance back at the bed, back to where Brendon was pressed close to Bob’s side.

Brendon’s eyes were wide and a little wet-looking. He was hunched over, making himself smaller. Bob, in contrast, was sitting perfectly straight, his back and shoulders rigid. His eyes looked hard, like he’d made a decision and was just waiting to spring it on Spencer.

None of it was right; it was all so utterly wrong. Spencer needed to make it stop, make everything normal again. That was the only reason he had for the words spilling from his lips.

“You have to stop. Okay? Just... No more. I can’t,” Spencer rubbed his hands over his face and stopped in the center of the room. He felt lost in his own surroundings. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” Brendon asked, subdued.

“I can’t be in the middle. It’s... it hurts, okay?” Spencer tried to pretend he didn’t hear the soft, pained sound Brendon made. Biting his lip, he blinked as rapidly as he could. “When you...kiss me like that and when you touch me like that I can’t think and it’s too much.” He didn’t specify who went with which action; it didn’t even matter.

“Spen-”

Spencer shook his head before Brendon could finish. If one of them was ending this... thing... it might as well be Spencer, and it might as well be then. “I get it, okay? I see why you want each other.” He forced himself to breathe through the ache that had taken up residence in his chest. “I see it. Bob’s all solid and shit. And Bren, you’re like the fucking personification of hope. I’m a fucking mess.”

“Spencer, you-”

“Brendon, shut up!” Spencer snapped, ignoring the way Bob glared afterwards. After a few breaths, Spencer looked up and willed his face to stay blank, his eyes to stay dry just a little while longer. The burn in his throat was getting worse, threatening to close off his airway until Spencer gave in and let everything rush out. He just had to make it a little longer… then he could run. “I was never going to be able to make it work with either of you. I don’t deserve to, really. Not with how I always lose things. And just look at both of you. Who’d trade that for me?”

Bob, oddly enough, waved a hand at him. He shook his head, making a slicing motion through the air with his hand. He basically flailed enough to make Spencer think of Gerard; it would have been funny if Spencer wasn’t too busy ripping his own heart out.

“Brendon.” Spencer bit his lip. “I can’t be, I don’t know, the catalyst for you guys. You’re... everything. And, Bob, you’re... You’re not Brendon, but you’re something. And you make each other happy and that’s more important, okay? You fit and I know there’s nowhere – There’s not. Not for me... So. Just. Just stop. Please.”

His voice broke, cracking on the last word, splitting the vowel sound and creating an extra syllable. Spencer was proud he’d made it that far, but now he needed to get away, and his stupid fucking feet wouldn’t cooperate. He squeezed his eyes shut until he couldn’t see even their outlines anymore.

Being so wrapped up in his own misery, Spencer missed Brendon getting up. Missed it right until Brendon’s body slammed into his chest. Instinctively, Spencer brought his arms up to wrap around him. Brendon was tilting his head, trying to force eye contact, and he was rambling.

“How can you be so damn stupid?” Brendon sounded like his heart was breaking. “You’re not getting replaced or pushed out or what-the-hell-ever.”

“But I see-”

Then Bob was behind him, resting his hands on Spencer’s hips. “Don’t want you to go away. Fuck, Smith.” He squeezed until Spencer wanted to pull away.

Brendon stretched up, pressing quick kisses all over Spencer’s cheeks and lips. “We want you with us. Nothing... nothing is the same without you.”

Spencer startled, tried to pull away. But he was stuck between their bodies, trapped in Brendon’s hold on his neck and Bob’s grip on his hips. “But that’s crazy. You can’t really mean, not all three of us. That doesn’t...”

“Do you want us?” Bob whispered, breath ghosting across Spencer’s ear.

Turning his head until his eyes were hidden against Brendon’s temple, Spencer tried to think of how to answer. This whole thing was such a delicate situation, and he didn’t know how to tell them he was scared out of his mind.

Fingers threaded into his hair, jittery - Brendon. “You get to decide. Do you want to try? With us? Because I think we could be good together.”

“We,” Bob repeated.

Spencer wanted to give in, just go with it, because Brendon had good instincts. It would be so easy for Spencer to just fall into this with them and not think twice. Not thinking had gotten him into trouble more than once.

“I... want to. But,” Spencer sighed. “What if it falls apart?”

“It won’t,” Brendon promised. He was intense, as always. “And we’ll fix it if it does.”

“What if...”

Bob kissed his crown. “Trust us. We’ve talked about it.”

“Really?” Spencer stood up straighter. Brendon never discussed serious things, not if he could help it, not unless it was absolutely necessary or unavoidable.

Brendon stretched up to kiss him. “Yeah,” he whispered against Spencer’s lips.

This time, Spencer didn’t startle or pull away. He leaned back into Bob and let Brendon have his mouth, kiss slow and deliberate.

Bob's fingers twitched on his hips. Spencer smiled against Brendon's mouth, bringing his hands up to Brendon's face to tilt him to a better angle. Brendon's fingers slipped into his hair, tugging his head to the side, letting Bob set his lips against the sensitive spot where Spencer's neck met his shoulder.

Two sets of lips and hands touching him had Spencer moaning. He was starting to lose the ability to think straight, but his body was willing to act without guidance. He dropped his hands to Brendon's shoulders, hips twitching forward against Brendon's then grinding back against Bob when he couldn't decide which sensation to chase. Brendon stepped forward enough that Spencer could slip a knee between Brendon's, press up against Brendon's crotch.

Brendon groaned, biting into Spencer's lip. Bob hummed, sucking hard enough to leave marks.

Spencer reached back, clutching until he got a hand on the back of Bob's head, holding him in place. Bob's hands left his hips, making Spencer frown around Brendon's tongue. Before Spencer had time to get worked up over the loss, Bob's hands were back, stroking over Spencer's chest and playing with the buttons of his shirt.

Bob ran his thumbs over Spencer's nipples, teasing before suddenly squeezing down. A groan tore out of Spencer's throat, hips twitching. He broke his mouth away to breathe, head falling back against Bob's shoulder as Brendon started helping with Spencer’s buttons.

The angle gave him a perfect close-up of Brendon stretching up on his tip-toes to kiss Bob over Spencer's shoulder. Spencer could see flashes of tongue, the fleeting moments where Bob let Brendon control the kiss. He tightened his fingers in Bob's hair until Bob groaned, pressing his erection against Spencer's ass. Spencer rolled his hips in counterpoint; Brendon followed and rocked against Spencer's thigh.

Fingertips calloused from guitar strings were pulling Spencer's shirt over his shoulders. He couldn't focus enough to let Brendon go, but Bob pulled Spencer’s hands away until the shirt fell to the floor.

Brendon stepped back, fingers tracing a pattern down Spencer's chest before he pulled away to deal with his own shirt. Spencer stared, still not used to seeing Brendon like this, fairly sure he never would be. Brendon smirked, throwing in a wink as his hands stroked down his own body, nails dragging in a way Spencer wouldn't have tried with Brendon - he was always a little cautious with his touches. When Brendon reached his waistband, he made short work of the ties and shucked his pants in one seriously sinful shimmy. He wasn't wearing underwear and Spencer suddenly knew this wasn't as spontaneous as he was led to believe.

"God," Bob whispered, awed. Spencer could relate.

Biting his lip, Spencer was trying not to let himself reach out, because Bob was there. But that was ridiculous. He was allowed to have Brendon, even with Bob watching. Somehow, that made a spark shoot straight to his cock.

He must have twitched with the sensation, because Bob's hands were suddenly at his waist and Brendon was falling to his knees, pulling Spencer's remaining clothes with him. Spencer stepped out of them on autopilot; he wasn't sure how he was moving when he was entranced by the naked line of Brendon's back and the way Brendon was hard already just from the promise of what was to come.

Brendon pressed his lips to Spencer's hipbone, nipping and sucking like he was trying to leave marks. Spencer dropped a hand to Brendon's hair and tried not to beg too much.

"Bob," Spencer said in a voice so rough he barely recognized it as his own. "May never say this again." He broke off to groan as Brendon started stroking at his thighs and nuzzling against the line of hair trailing down from his bellybutton. "You're fucking overdressed."

Chuckling and muttering something about bossiness, Bob stepped away. Spencer started to fall back, but Brendon's hands on his ass caught him. Brendon's grip was a little too tight, but he eased it into a sort of kneading motion that had Spencer's head spinning. He was distantly aware of clothes rustling around behind him, but Brendon chose that moment to lap at the head of Spencer's cock.

"Fuck. Your mouth," Spencer murmured.

"Fucking amazing, right." It wasn't actually a question; Bob apparently already knew.

Spencer almost wanted to get indignant about how Bob had had Brendon on his knees first, but Bob was pressing close again, warm skin and chest hair catching against Spencer's back. Bob wiggled closer as Brendon pushed Spencer back. For one moment, Spencer felt how hard Bob was, nestled close to his ass. Suddenly, Spencer had never wanted anything more.

“Please,” Spencer whined.

“What do you want?” Bob asked. But when Spencer opened his mouth the answer, Brendon licked up his cock and sucked the head into his mouth. All Spencer got out was a loud gasp. His hips tried to shift forward, but Bob held him still. Bob was breathing heavily when he said, “What, Spencer?”

A blush spread up his chest. Spencer shook his head, but Bob seemed insistent. Brendon sucked hard, and Spencer felt the tug straight through his stomach.

“Bed,” Spencer forced out. “Want. Inside. Please.” For once, he didn’t care if he was begging.

Brendon moaned around Spencer, and the vibrations made Spencer thrust his hips before he could stop it. Spencer tightened his hand in Brendon's hair and tugged until Brendon pulled away with an obscene, wet noise.

"Yeah," Bob agreed. He kissed Spencer's shoulder, then stepped away.

Moving around to stand behind Brendon, Bob reached down to grip his arms, help him up. Brendon pressed a hand to Spencer's cheek before turning to reach for Bob.

Spencer watched, mesmerized. They looked amazing together: Brendon's darker skin and hair against Bob. They were both distracted, mouths crashing and bodies pressing together. Bob let his hands fall down Brendon's back until he was palming Brendon's ass, and Brendon's hands moved restlessly over Bob's shoulders and down his sides. Bob tugged Brendon closer, practically lifting him off the floor to grind against him, and Spencer had to grab his dick, hard, a little afraid of coming without being touched.

Spencer could have watched them for days, except the throbbing between his legs was getting more insistent, and want was coursing through his body in waves. He stepped around Bob, gripping his hips and tugging backwards. Bob moved with the pressure, bringing Brendon with them.

Spencer set his mouth against the nape of Bob's neck, backing up until his legs hit the edge of his bed. He sucked hard against Bob's skin before letting go and crawling backwards onto the mattress to settle against the pillows.

Bob and Brendon were watching him suddenly, making his entire body heat up in something that might have been embarrassment. Brendon bit his lip to cover his grin while Bob climbed onto the bed beside him.

"Fucking hell," Bob muttered before catching Spencer's lips. It wasn't a kiss, just a tease before he was pulling away and rummaging around in the bedside table Brendon had taken over. When he came back, he was holding a small glass bottle of some sort of colorless oil. He poured a bit into his palm, coating his fingers.

Spencer's breath stopped. He let his eyes travel from Bob's hand to his eyes then down his body to the hard line of his cock. It's not that Spencer wanted it any less, but Spencer maybe hadn't thought this all the way through.

Bob must have caught the mild panic in his eyes. He leaned back down to kiss Spencer, keeping it light until Spencer started stretching up to follow Bob whenever he pulled back.

"You sure you want to do this?" Bob sounded doubtful, but Spencer didn't listen; that way laid madness. Instead, he nodded and shut his eyes to catch his breath.

"You're going to love it," Brendon piped up as he curled up at Spencer's other side. "Bob's fingers are fucking awesome. He'll have you begging in about three seconds."

"No pressure or anything." Bob chuckled, and Spencer could see him roll his eyes.

Spencer let out a shaky laugh. "I've got a lot of expectations here," he told them with more bravado than he felt. The nerves were swimming in his stomach, but he could deal with minor anxiety if Bob would just fucking touch him.

"Okay, okay.” Bob nudged at Spencer's shoulder, exerting enough pressure to have him roll onto his stomach.

Spencer lifted up onto his knees, dropping his head down to press his face into the pillow.

The oil made Bob's fingers cool when he touched Spencer, his hand sliding over Spencer's back then lower, tracing around Spencer’s rim. Bob kissed at the dimples above Spencer’s ass, then up his spine as he sank the first finger inside.

It was... not bad. Different or strange, maybe, but not bad. When Bob started thrusting his finger, Spencer felt his hips move into it. The second finger was different, felt like a lot more even though it couldn’t be. Bob scissored his fingers and Spencer whined.

Brendon was there, pulling Spencer’s face up to pepper kisses all over his cheeks and forehead, his eyelids and hairline. He pulled away when Spencer started rocking backwards with every stroke of Bob’s fingers.

"God, Spence," Brendon murmured. "If you could see..." He broke off to press kisses to Spencer's back. He seemed distracted by what he was seeing, and it brought some of Spencer's urgency back.

"Bren. Kiss. Brendon," Spencer whined until Brendon was back. His hand was in Spencer's hair when he finally brought their mouths together. Spencer tried to focus on that.

He did a passable job until Bob added a third finger, the stretching a lot more noticeable. Spencer started to whimper, but it broke off into a moan when Bob did... something with his fingers. He did it again, and Spencer's back arched, trying to press into the touch. He broke away from Brendon's mouth to groan into the pillow.

Suddenly, Bob's fingers were gone. Spencer felt oddly empty and discontent until there was a blunt pressure against him, thicker than fingers. It should have been worrisome, but fuck that; Spencer wanted more. He pressed back, trying to give Bob some kind of cue. It must have translated; Bob's cock was pressing into him, a slow pressure that almost felt like it was splitting him in two.

Something finally gave and Spencer could feel Bob's hips pressed to his ass. Spencer panted into the pillow, forcing his body to relax. It was a lot to feel all at once, but after a second he nodded.

"Can you..." Spencer squirmed. "You can move."

Bob didn't make him repeat himself. He moved carefully, pulsing his hips a few times before pulling away and thrusting back in. Spencer bit his lip, trying to quiet the tiny sounds bubbling up in his chest. Brendon's hand wrapped around Spencer's cock, a sudden pressure Spencer didn't expect. He moaned, loudly, and tried to chase both feelings at once.

"Perfect," Bob whispered against his ear before pulling away from Spencer's back. When he thrust back in, the angle was different, and Bob was brushing that spot Spencer was realizing he fucking loved. Spencer used his hands to shove himself back, not really letting Bob pull out.

Bob suddenly rolled to the side, taking Spencer with him. He gripped Spencer's knee hard enough to sting and held his leg higher. Then Brendon's mouth was closing over Spencer's cock, this perfect suction that Brendon knew made Spencer melt.

They set opposing rhythms. One minute, Bob was pressed deep inside, right against that spot, and Spencer's cock was buried as far into Brendon's mouth as Brendon could take him. The next, Brendon was mouthing the head and Bob had pulled almost completely out.

Everything was moving too fast and too slow all at the same time. It was driving Spencer out of his mind. He knew he was talking, saying nonsense mixed with names and inarticulate breathy sounds. The pressure was building, fast and hot. Spencer tried to hang on, vaguely aware that it would be embarrassing to come immediately.

Bob slammed in, hard, grinding deliberately. Brendon flattened his tongue along the underside of Spencer's cock and pulled back, sucking the whole way. It was messy and delicious. Bob said something, words Spencer couldn't focus on, and caught Spencer's earlobe between his teeth. Spencer tried to press back, pull him in closer and tug Brendon's head tighter against him.

Brendon scraped his teeth gently against Spencer's cock, and Spencer tugged his hair. He tried to choke out a warning, but Bob shifted in this way that made Spencer's eyes roll. His muscles tightened, and a jolt raced through him. His body shook, and Brendon was still sucking. Bob was thrusting again, faster and harder this time.

It was almost too much in the aftermath. Spencer's body seemed to want to do nothing but shake and feel clumsy. He pushed weakly at Brendon's shoulder until Brendon fell to his back. Spencer moaned Bob's name and gripped the sheet in one hand, reaching back for Bob's hip with the other. Bob slammed in one more time, grunted, and kissed at Spencer's back.

Heat flooded Spencer when Bob came, and shit, shit. It was too intense. Spencer whined, gasped, squirmed back until Bob stopped moving and sank down into the mattress. He seemed to be as boneless as Spencer felt.

Bob was still huffing wet breaths against Spencer's neck, stirring his hair, and Spencer was still clinging to the sheet and shifting with how full he felt.

He forced his eyes open when he heard Brendon whine, low and plaintive. Brendon looked fucking amazing. He was writhing, thrusting against his own hand as he rubbed down his cock. His lip was caught between his teeth, cheeks flushed, hair a complete mess. He whined again, and Spencer turned his head to glance at Bob. Bob smiled his slow, sated grin and nodded.

Even though he moved carefully, Spencer bit back a slightly pained sound when Bob pulled out. Bob pressed a kiss to Spencer's shoulder before climbing over both Spencer and Brendon. He waved a hand in Spencer's general direction until Spencer clued in and snatched the bottle of oil from the bedside table. His fingers lingered a little when he handed the bottle to Bob, but Bob only smiled with his eyes at Spencer.

Spencer helped Bob turn Brendon to his side. Just watching for a moment, Spencer reached up to trace Brendon’s swollen lips with his thumb. Brendon pressed a kiss to the pad of his finger, sighing softly. Spencer moved his hand down, tracing Brendon’s ribs before finally knocking Brendon's hand away from his own cock. Spencer replaced it with his own. He rubbed his palm over the head to gather the moisture before circling Brendon's cock in his fist. He didn't actually have to move his hand much; Brendon threw his head back and thrust against Spencer's hand in desperation.

He was babbling, saying broken phrases and nothing at all. Spencer inched closer, nosing under Brendon's chin until Brendon clawed at his neck to pull him into a kiss. It was chaotic, Brendon too distracted to actually kiss with any finesse. Brendon tasted different, sharper, and that must be Spencer's taste on his tongue. Spencer groaned and forced Brendon's mouth open to chase the taste.

Spencer didn't mind, not at all. Especially since he knew the second Bob slid the first finger inside by the way Brendon stilled for a moment. His whole body froze, and Spencer bit his lip to distract him, twisting his wrist and squeezing on the upstroke. Brendon moaned and moved with it.

He seemed much looser after that, only gasping when Bob added another finger. Bob must have done that amazing crook-thing with his fingers. because Brendon cried out. He rocked back hard against Bob's fingers, his hips twisting hard enough to jamb Spencer's wrist when he moved back into Spencer's hand. Spencer tightened his hold and sped up his motions. Spencer could see Bob's arm moving in counterpoint so that Brendon was thrusting into Spencer's hand one minute and then grinding on Bob's fingers in the next move.

Bringing a hand down, Brendon squeezed Spencer's fingers, forcing him to move fast and hold tighter. They weren't so much kissing as they were sharing air at this point. Brendon dropped his head back, and Spencer heard Bob's voice, rough and quiet.

"Come on, Bren," Bob said. "Want to see you again."

When Bob pressed his lips to Brendon's shoulder, Spencer took over. "You're so close. So gorgeous."

Whining, Brendon thrust into Spencer's hand a couple more times before freezing. His body stilled for a second before shivering, shuddering between the press of Bob and Spencer's bodies. Spencer stroked him through it and waited until he saw Bob pull his fingers away. He let go, pressing his fingers to Brendon's stomach, tracing across his hip until Spencer found Bob's wrist and held on.

Brendon was still moaning with nearly every breath he took, blinking slowly up at both of them. He stretched out, arching his back enough to make Spencer groan and Bob growl; Brendon laughed. He sounded so genuinely carefree that Spencer startled when Brendon shimmied down to the end of the bed and got to his feet.

He had a moment of panic so acute that the only thing he heard over the pounding in his ears was Bob’s quiet shushing noises. Spencer went easily when Bob tugged on his arm. He let Bob turn his head for a kiss, but Spencer was obviously distracted. He didn’t actually kiss back until the bed dipped behind him. Brendon ran a cloth over Spencer’s ass, across his hip, along his stomach, then moved onto Bob. When Brendon pulled away and there was a wet plop sound from the nightstand, Spencer rolled until he was on his side, facing Brendon.

“You better not expect me to deal with that later.” His glower didn’t feel as strong as usual, but he didn’t really care.

Brendon shrugged, his eyes starting to droop. His voice was rough and abused when he spoke. “I don’t. Promise, Spencer Smith.” It was easier to accept that, especially since Brendon fought dirty by snuggling up to Spencer’s chest and kissing Spencer’s nose. Bob spooned up behind Spencer but didn’t say anything.

Feeling Brendon against his chest with a leg tossed casually over Spencer’s was normal, but Bob pressed tight against his back was new. The heavy weight of an extra arm thrown over his side and being able to look down and see Bob holding onto Brendon from across Spencer... It was all so novel.

Somehow, it was the safest he’d felt in longer than he could remember. He took a deep breath, taking in the scent of sex and sweat that was all around him. He wiggled a little, trying to get comfortable.

Brendon shifted closer. “Go t’ sleep.”

Spencer made a noncommittal sound, something that wasn’t agreement but wasn’t a denial either.

“Please?” Brendon pouted. “We can get all overly introspective tomorrow.”

“You’ll still...” Spencer hated himself for saying it, but he couldn’t help it. “This will still work tomorrow?”

“Mm Hm,” Brendon hummed. He snuggled in, buried his face against Spencer’s chest.

Spencer pressed his face against Brendon’s head, trying not to breathe too deeply and choke on Brendon’s hair.

“We’ll make it work,” Bob rumbled, lips brushing the nape of Spencer’s neck. He pressed a kiss there. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Spencer nodded, slipping his hand down to cover Bob’s on Brendon’s side. Closing his eyes, Spencer fought a yawn and tried to quiet his mind.

“Yeah. Okay.” This time, Spencer actually meant it.


Epilogue