Coitus Interruptus
Spencer rested his shoulder against one beige wall and waited, trying his
best to look nonchalant. The other guys were lured into the Butcher’s hotel room
with the promise of a Cross-Band Ultimate Halo Deathmatch. Spencer faked a
headache and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling when Joe asked him
to join. Ryan may have been a little suspicious, but he didn’t say anything.
A door down the hall opened, and Spencer’s hand smoothed down his peach t-shirt
unconsciously as Patrick appeared. He let a slow grin spread over his face when
Patrick looked down one side of the hall and then the other before spotting
Spencer. Patrick wore a blue hat with some kind of monkey on it, a bright blue
shirt and black jeans that emphasized the tight, thick curve of his thighs.
Spencer’s grin widened. He was going to bite those thighs, right in the crease
where Patrick’s legs met his stomach.
“Hey,” Spencer said, when Patrick reached him. He pushed his hair out of his
face and let his eyes travel the length of Patrick’s body.
“Hey,” Patrick said, giving Spencer a similar, if more hesitant, once-over.
“Where’s the rest of your band?”
“Halo tournament. Yours?” Spencer asked, already knowing the answer.
“Same,” Patrick said. He took off his hat and put it back on in one swift,
nervous motion. “So do you still want to…you know?” Patrick’s face flushed a
pale pink.
God, he was fucking unbelievable. The lead singer of one of the biggest
bands on the planet, and he still blushed when talking about sex. Spencer sucked
his bottom lip between his teeth. Did he still want to? He hadn’t been able to
think about anything else since their last thwarted attempt three days ago.
It had been Andy that time, needing to use the bathroom Spencer and Patrick had
crammed themselves into. Before that it was William, drunk and pounding on the
door to Patrick’s bus, having mistaken it for his own. The three times before
that it was Pete, whose co-dependence led him to seek out Patrick at the most
inopportune times. Jon had accidentally stumbled in the first time they’d
kissed, and Spencer just wanted to have sex. He just wanted to see Patrick’s
dick. Was that too much to ask?
He was almost tempted to think it was one big practical joke, or that his
friends got off on being the biggest cockblockers in human history, until he
remembered that none of them were that subtly sadistic. Pete Wentz’s idea of
subtle was wearing a bright pink thong instead of being completely naked when he
launched himself on top of you.
“I wouldn’t usually be so abrupt about it,” Patrick continued, “but I feel like
we’ve got a limited window of opportunity with which to work here.”
“My room’s two doors down,” Spencer answered. He didn’t wait for Patrick to
respond before grabbing him by the arm and yanking him towards the door.
They were halfway there when a voice called out from behind them. “Yo, Patrick.”
“Don’t stop,” Patrick hissed, and Spencer didn’t need to be told twice.
They got to the door, and Spencer’s heart pounded as he fumbled with the room
key.
“Go, go,” Patrick murmured, his body plastered along Spencer’s. Spencer swiped
the card through, but the light stayed red. “Come on.”
“I’m trying,” Spencer said. His hand began to shake. “Maybe you need to do
this.”
“Gimme,” Patrick said, stealing the card out of Spencer’s hand and running it
through the scanner in one smooth motion that Spencer, in his lust-adled mind,
found incredibly hot.
“Patrick,” the voice said again, sounding closer. Spencer turned his head as
Patrick shoved him into the room and caught a glimpse of Charlie striding down
the hall. “Pete’s looking for you, man.”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Of course he is.”
“I’ll be right there,” Patrick said, following Spencer inside the room. “Spencer
just wants to show me this thing.”
“In my pants,” Spencer snickered as Patrick shut the door in Charlie’s face.
“God, it should not be this hard to get laid,” Patrick said, curling his hand in
Spencer’s shirt and reeling him in.
“Blame…mmm…Blame your bassist,” Spencer muttered between kisses before finally
giving up on speaking altogether.
Somehow they managed to toe off their shoes and maneuver their way to the bed,
which Spencer had re-made especially for the occasion. His mother would be so
proud. And wow, that was the last time he was having that thought with
someone else’s tongue in his mouth.
Pulling back, Spencer hit that stupid monkey hat off of Patrick’s head with a
flourish and pushed him down to the mattress. Patrick leaned back on his elbows,
looking about as wrecked as Spencer felt, his lips swollen and red.
“Shit,” Spencer groaned. He crawled onto the bed to straddle Patrick’s lap and
capture the bottom one between his teeth. “Jesus, you’re so – “ He snapped his
mouth shut before he could say something that he’d regret.
Patrick smiled, a small quirk of his lips, and said, “You too.”
“I want to see your dick,” Spencer said honestly, too turned on to be
embarrassed about the confession.
“It wants to see you,” Patrick replied, and Spencer snorted out a surprised
laugh before reaching out a hand to massage the sharp outline of Patrick’s
erection through his jeans. Patrick pulled in a quick, harsh sounding breath and
then his hands were tangling with Spencer’s in his haste to get his pants off.
“Now. It wants to see you too, a lot, right now. And god, I’m going to stop
talking about my dick like it’s a third person in the room, okay, but really,
let’s…”
Spencer bit at Patrick’s neck as he laughed and helped him peel his pants and
underwear down his ankles where Patrick kicked them off. Spencer wiggled out of
his own pants and moved back over Patrick, hissing when their bare skin made
contact.
“Shirt, shirt,” Spencer panted. He wrapped a hand around Patrick’s erection,
flushed and slightly curved against his soft belly, and gave it a slow stroke.
“God, yeah, okay,” Patrick gasped, ripping his shirt over his head and then
doing the same for Spencer. He rested his warm hands on Spencer’s hips and
sighed, his head tipping back and his eyes closing. “I’m probably not…probably…”
Spencer leaned down to lick the long, pale expanse of Patrick’s throat before
sitting back up, hand working furiously. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted
to…”
They both froze suddenly at the knock on the door.
“Spencer?” Brendon’s voice came filtering in and Spencer’s hand unconsciously
tightened around Patrick’s dick. Patrick arched into the touch and stuffed a
fist into his mouth, his eyes wide. “Spencer? Pete won’t take his turn in Halo
until he finds Patrick and Charlie said you guys came in here so…”
Spencer looked at Patrick a moment before steeling himself. No way was Pete
Wentz going to screw him over a fourth time. He began slowly stroking Patrick’s
dick again, even as Brendon pounded on the door. Patrick shook his head and made
a weak attempt to push Spencer off before giving in and flopping back down on
the bed.
“What was that sound? Spencer, I know you’re in there! Patrick, Pete has to tell
you something really important! I want my turn, Patrick!” There was a sound that
might have been a kick against the base of the door.
Spencer used his free hand to rub Patrick’s thigh in the way he’d learned from
their previous attempts that Patrick liked. Patrick grunted, a sound barely
audible from around his fist, and spread his legs farther apart.
“Yeah,” Spencer whispered.
“Spencer, Spencer!” Brendon called from behind the door. “What the hell! Open
the door! Spencer! Spencer! Spencer! Spencer!”
“Brendon, shut the hell up!” Spencer finally called back.
“Open the door!”
“I’m…busy!” Spencer said through grit teeth.
“How long does it take to open the door?” Brendon asked.
“God, Brendon, are you retarded?” Spencer demanded. “Go away!”
"Just send Patrick out! You don't have to leave!"
“We're busy!” Spencer yelled.
“What are you doing? Are you…oh my god, are you having sex? With Patrick in the
room, man? That’s pretty inconsider…” Brendon trailed off and Spencer shut his
eyes, waiting for the moment when realization hit. “OH MY GOD, are you having
sex with Patrick?”
“Go away, Brendon!” Spencer yelled, flustered and afraid Brendon’s fucking
grand proclamation would send Patrick running out the door.
Instead, Patrick pulled the wet fist from his mouth and shouted, “He’s trying
to!”
Spencer stared down at Patrick in shock and more than a little arousal. He
barely heard the excited patter of Brendon’s footsteps running down the hall.
“You know he’s going to tell everyone,” Spencer said.
“Yeah,” Patrick replied, rolling his hips beneath Spencer’s hands. “Go faster.”
Spencer sped up his strokes and gripped his own dick, somehow as turned on as he
was annoyed. He let out a relieved sigh and then bucked when one of Patrick’s
hands wrapped around his. Spencer bent over, tilting so that their dicks met
with a wet sound. Their hands tangled as they both moved together.
Vaguely, Spencer could hear the sounds of a stampede outside the door, and then
there was more pounding, but he didn’t register what was being said. All his
attention was focused on their hands between their bodies and his fast
approaching climax. Patrick’s hand still on Spencer’s hip tightened and then
Patrick was coming, mouth open and breathing heavy.
“Come on, come on,” Spencer murmured quietly, conscious of their audience. “I
need to, Patrick, come on.” Two more tight strokes and his orgasm hit so
violently that he tipped forward, his head falling onto Patrick’s chest.
After a moment, he could hear the catcalls.
“Does anyone else have a key to this fucking door!” Pete was saying. “Where’s my
camera?”
“Jesus,” Patrick groaned, then said louder, “Fuck off, Pete!”
There was an explosion of laughter behind the door, and then more pounding.
“Our friends are assholes,” Spencer said.
“Uh huh,” Patrick agreed. “But they’re assholes on the other side of that door.”
“Dirty, get your sledgehammer!” Pete yelled down the hall.