what if the right part of leaving

Title: i want some steam on my clothes
Jon/Spencer, nc-17, ~1400 words.
A/N: On the occasion of foxxcub 's natal day, I offer, um. Porn? Yep, that's pretty much all this is.
Much thanks to arsenicjade  for the readthrough, and to liketheroad  for her hand-holding and general existence in my life!
Title from 'I want a little sugar in my bowl', Nina Simone.




The bar’s dark and a little hazy - Jon’s had a few drinks, and he’s feeling loose and relaxed and happy as fuck to be off tour for a few weeks. He grins over the top of his beer at Tom from the Plain White Ts and Brendon, who are engaged in some sort of epic shot for shot contest. It’s been pretty serious, with all sorts of glaring and ‘your momma’ insults hurled - Jon’s pretty sure Brendon can’t even stand up straight at this point.

Brendon waves at him, and Jon smirks. He tilts his bottle towards them, a ‘last night of tour’ salute, and then suddenly he’s being grabbed by the wrist and roughly tugged to his feet.

He barely gets out a “The fuck,” before Spencer’s taking the beer from his hand and depositing it on the nearest table, then pulling him none too gently across the bar. Jon’s confused, and sort of sad about his lost beer, but there’s a determined set to Spencer’s shoulders, so he keeps his mouth shut and lets himself be dragged.

Spencer elbows his way through the crowd, oblivious to people’s stares, one hand still hot on Jon’s wrist, and before Jon knows it, he’s being pushed into a tiny, one room bathroom with a Texas flag hanging above the sink and some sort of weird arrangement of dried flowers on the counter.

Jon’s opens his mouth to say something about Spencer wanting to go to the little girl’s room, but he never gets the chance, because Spencer shoves him in, locks the door behind them, then turns Jon around till he’s pushed up against the door. He pins Jon’s wrists to the door behind them, and then Jon’s mind goes completely and utterly blank, because Spencer’s mouth is hot on his, his stubble scratching roughly against Jon’s beard.

And Jon can’t think, can’t even begin to process what’s happening - they are very definitely in public, some bar in the middle of god-knows-where, and then there’s the small, insignificant detail that it’s Spencer tossing him up against a wall and shoving a leg in between Jon’s, which is – well, new. Yeah.

(Which isn’t to say Jon hasn’t thought about it, about Spencer. He’s not fucking blind, as it turns out.)

And Jon should really, really stop this, maybe ask what the actual fuck is going on, but Spencer leans in, his mouth insistent and his leg pressing hot against Jon’s rapidly hardening cock, and Jon can’t help it when he groans at the friction. Spencer takes immediate advantage, his tongue making urgent swipes along Jon’s.

Suddenly the pressure’s gone from Jon’s wrists, and Spencer’s hands are tugging frantically at Jon’s jeans. Jon slams his head against the door and makes a really fucking undignified noise when Spencer finally gets them open and wraps one wide hand around Jon’s cock. He manages a weak “Spence”, but Spencer shakes his head and kisses him long and dirty, tightening his fingers and pulling roughly.

If there was ever a chance of Jon being able to stop this, it’s gone the second Spencer touches his dick, so he closes his eyes and lets Spencer fuck his mouth with his tongue, trying his damndest not to come right then and there. There’s nothing not hot about Spencer like this – pushy and demanding and desperate, and Jon moans into Spencer’s mouth and threads his fingers through Spencer’s hair, tugging him closer, closer.

It’s Spencer making noises then, panting against Jon’s lips with small whimpers, pulling Jon’s cock with a little twist at the end of each stroke. Jon’s legs are shaking underneath him already, and he’s never gonna last, not with Spencer’s weight against him and those fucking noises he keeps groaning into Jon’s mouth. Jon’s whole body is hot and prickly, and he can’t stop the litany of “Fuck, oh fuck, Spencer” that keeps coming out.

Spencer’s hand suddenly stills, and Jon almost whines at the loss of friction. Spencer pulls back slightly, just enough to whisper, “Are you close?”

And Jon knows exactly how desperate he must sound when he says, “Jesus, Spencer, yes, so fucking close.” He can’t quite stop himself from thrusting up into Spencer’s loosely curled fist, or from digging his fingers in to Spencer’s shoulders.

“Wait.” Spencer’s murmuring, but there’s no mistaking the command in his voice, and Jon has to close his eyes because so fucking hot, jesus. Spencer leans in and kisses him again, less frantic this time, licking lazily at Jon’s tongue, and christ. Jon’s never come just from being kissed, but there’s a first time for everything.

Then Spencer’s mouth is gone, and Jon makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat till he realizes Spencer’s sliding to his knees, looking up at Jon with a knowing smirk on his face.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, and Spencer tightens his fist on the base of Jon’s dick, then leans forward and tongues at the slit.

It takes every ounce of willpower Jon has to not just thrust forward, hard and fast into Spencer’s mouth, but then, he doesn’t really need to since Spencer’s apparently a fucking genius at giving head. He sucks hard at the tip, moving his hand in time with perfect amount of pressure and Jon closes his eyes tight and grits his teeth. “This isn’t gonna – fuck – take long.”

Spencer makes an approving noise around Jon’s dick, and Jon opens his eyes and looks down. Spencer’s got his other hand shoved down the front of his jeans, not moving, just pressing, and his mouth is red and swollen around Jon’s cock, and Jon doesn’t even have time to get out a warning before he’s coming so hard he can’t even see. He slams his head against the door again, swearing a blue streak, Spencer sucking him through it till he’s come longer and harder than he ever has in his life.

Jon comes down slowly, vaguely aware of Spencer’s forehead resting against his hip. He manages to pry his eyes open, and slides down the wall till he’s sitting with his legs spread out on either side of where Spencer’s kneeling. He can hear the ragged sound of Spencer’s breathing, and looks for a moment at where Spencer’s hand is shoved in his jeans, unmoving. Hesitating only for a moment, Jon reaches out and wiggles his hand into the tight space between the front of Spencer’s pants and where his hand is pressed up against his dick. Jon rests his fingers on Spencer’s, but doesn’t move them, just watches as Spencer’s breath picks up speed.

Spencer’s eyes screw shut and he groans, loud and low. He thrusts against his own hand, the one Jon’s is resting on, but Jon doesn’t move to help. Spencer whimpers, and bucks up once, twice, then throws his head back and comes. Jon watches the lines of Spencer’s throat as he feels warm wetness spread through his fingers to the front of Spencer’s jeans, and leans forward and licks a long stripe up his neck. Spencer moans and shudders his was through his orgasm until he’s panting and leaning his forehead heavily against Jon’s.

There’s a long moment of silence, nothing but the harsh sounds of their breathing, and then Spencer pulls back slightly and murmurs, “Maybe we should get up off the probably completely gross bathroom floor, yeah?”

Jon hums in agreement, and allows himself to be tugged to his feet. They both face the mirror, adjusting their clothing and cleaning up as well as they can. Jon’s not sure what to say, so he clears his throat nervously. Spencer’s eyes meet in his in the mirror’s reflection, and Jon says, lightly, “So, ‘last night of tour’ shenanigans, huh.”

Spencer looks at him long and hard, then looks away and says, “Well, you know. It seemed like the thing to do.” His eyes flick up to meet Jon’s again, and heat blooms in Jon’s stomach at the expression on Spencer’s face.

Spencer’s tone is challenging when he says “I can’t wait to see what you come up with for the start of the next tour to beat this.”

There’s a question there, and Jon’s many things (including, apparently, oblivious), but he’s not stupid.

Jon grabs Spencer, spins him around, and crowds him against the door, biting at his jaw line. He kisses him once, hard, before pulling back slightly and saying, “Yeah. I’m sure I can come up with something.