Summary: In which, Brendon can't quite make himself be easy with being left behind.
Notes: A remix of Seratonation's Picture in My Mind, for the Remix Redux; part of the Journey 'Verse
Brendon knows he's being stupid.
He does, okay? It's just a week. A tiny little week which so totally does not count in the scheme of things at all, and Spencer will be back, and it's not like he's going to hook up with Zack while they're in Vegas. Or like Zack will let Spencer hook up with anyone else, because Zack--Brendon knows, deep down in his soul where it counts--likes Brendon best of everyone.
So Spencer isn't going to find someone new, and he's coming back to Brendon, and in the meantime they can try phone sex--Brendon is really excited about the phone sex. He hasn't been in enough of a relationship to call somebody at eleven o'clock and demand phone sex since--fuck, since Audrey, and the whole thing with Audrey had been. Well. Brendon had been shy and overeager and intimidated, and Audrey had been essentially Audrey, and calling her up and asking for phone sex had been completely out of the question. And now Brendon has grown into his sexual self or whatever, and he's in a relationship, and the point is: phone sex. About to be happening. Between Brendon and Spencer.
But despite all this--despite the week, and the coming back, and the phone sex--Brendon finds that he wants to cling. He trails in and out of Spencer's room as he packs and makes phone calls, trying not to seem needy.
It doesn't seem to be working.
"Yeah," Spencer says into his cell, pinching it between his chin and shoulder while he folds a shirt neatly in thirds. He raises an eyebrow at Brendon--his fourth raised eyebrow this morning, and they're starting to look irritated. "I got the manager, and he says we're clear as far as that goes, but apparently there's an assistant manager who'll be on duty and God knows whether the orders will get passed along or not--"
He puts the folded shirt into his suitcase and switches ears.
"Uh-huh," he says, and reaches out with his other hand to wrap around Brendon's wrist. "Yeah, I know you're an intimidating mountain of a man, Zack, but--" he tugs, and Brendon narrowly avoids crashlanding his nose into Spencer's shoulder. "--but some people are too stupid to be intimidated, and I think bureaucrats probably qualify." Spencer lets go of Brendon's wrist and wraps the hand around his waist instead.
"Bureaucrats of a storage facility, Zack," he says, and raises one hand to his phone so he can turn and swiftly bite the crest of Brendon's ear, hard. Brendon melts into Spencer's side and tries not to make any obvious noises.
"Yeah, okay. But double-check the paperwork anyway, all right? For me?
"Yeah. I'll tell him. Smith out." Spencer taps the "end call" button flashing on the screen and drops the phone on the bed.
"Smith out?" Brendon says, leaning back just a little so he can smirk at Spencer.
"I'm being very cool and secret-agenty, I'll have you know," Spencer says, smacking Brendon on the ass lightly.
"Suuuuure," Brendon says, and loses his smirk when Spencer bends down to suck lightly on his pulse point.
"You okay?" Spencer asks softly, letting go of his mouthful of flesh with a soft, wet sound.
"Yeah," Brendon says, smiling brightly and determinedly looking at the pretty little ceramic angel Jackie made Spencer for Christmas one year, perched on Spencer's dresser. "I mean, it's just a week, right? Do me good to get away from your ugly mug for a while."
"I'll miss you, too, asshole," Spencer says, and nips at Brendon's neck again. "I was thinking..."
Brendon sucks in a breath and tilts his head to leave Spencer a little more space to work with. "Yeah?" he says.
"If you were worried," Spencer says, biting his way down from Brendon's earlobe to to his collarbone. "Even just a little..."
"Yeah?" Brendon breathes again, and then realizes he's just admitted it, and wants to die a little.
"I could do something special," Spencer says, with a final sinking of his teeth. "Tonight. Something to remember me by. Something that could help."
Brendon ducks his head and buries his shaky grin in Spencer's neck. "Okay," he says, and tries to make himself sound coy and intrigued instead of just desperately grasping at this straw. "What did you have in mind, studmuffin?"
Spencer snorts and pinches the inside of Brendon's elbow. "That would be telling, honey-lambkin," he says, and steps away, leaving Brendon to pout at him.
"That's not fair!" Brendon objects.
"It's very fair," Spencer says. "If you figure it out before I go, you can have a special bonus sexual act of your choice, how's that for a distraction?"
Brendon rolls his eyes. "Not much of a distraction if you tell me all about it, now is it?" he says, trying for a snooty, haughty tone that doesn't reveal how wildly intrigued he is, both by the promised "something" and the bonus prize.
"Oh, I think you'll be distracted anyway," Spencer says, and licks his lips. On purpose and everything. Oh, that is completely not fair.
Spencer shoos Brendon out the door, and Brendon pouts at the closed panels a moment before he shakes his head and gives up. For the moment.
The thing is, a few weeks after they got together, Spencer curled up close around Brendon and coaxed his fantasies out of him. And some of them were hugely embarrassing; some of them were intensely private; some of them were impossible, and some...weren't. Spencer had been sneaking them into regular old practically-married-couple sex nights ever since, pulling out blindfolds and edible lube like they were exactly what he'd been planning to incorporate into their sex life all along.
Brendon isn't--quite--sure whether tonight will be something he asked for, something near-impossible that can never be an everyday thing, or whether it will be something he never thought to dream of.
The more he thinks about it, though, the more the possibilities drift through his mind and explode like the spaceships on the screen as he waits for Spencer to finish packing and come to him, the more he realizes--whatever it will be, Spencer's planned it. Spencer put thought into Brendon, into them, into leaving for a week and into how crazy it would make Brendon to be left behind.
Something inside him settles.
When Spencer calls him upstairs at half-past eight, he goes with a nervous squirm in his stomach.
"So," Spencer says, standing dimly-lit beside the bed. "You want to see what I'll be doing when I'm alone in a hotel room, thinking of you?"