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August 11th, 2008


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05:00 pm - Knowledge
Title: Knowledge
Team: Team Brendon
Prompt: Absence makes the heart grow fonder
Rating: PG-14
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer (Brencer)
Summary: Brendon is moving and a few things need to be settled before he goes.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of under-age sex
Word Count: 3,542



It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

That may sound childish, but it’s true. How could they do this to me? They knew how important this place was to me, how much the people here meant to me. How much Spencer meant to me.

“It’s all for the best, we’re not doing this to hurt you. A move will be good for all of us,” my father said, but I can’t bring myself to believe him.

If this was all for my benefit, if this was all for me… they were being stupid.

Spencer’s with me now, entangled with me on his bed at his grandmother’s house. She was out, visiting his grandfather’s grave, just like she did every Wednesday, leaving us alone, to do whatever.

Sometimes we fool around. We have in the past. We haven’t gotten much farther than hand jobs and dry humping though, even though we have all the hours alone. It’s just… nice. To be alone, to night have to worry about our parents catching us cuddling up in either of our rooms in our respective houses.

“So, what did your parents want to talk to you about yesterday?” Spencer asked, referring about when my parents asked him to leave so they could talk to me about moving.

”I’m not going, I don’t want to go!” I yelled at them, glad Spencer was gone, so he couldn’t see my hissy fit and make fun of me for it later.

“We’re doing it for you, Brendon, a change of scenery is just what you need!” Mom called back, even though I was already slamming the door to my room.


“They’re making me leave,” I said with a sigh, still quite pissed off.

“What, why?” he said, half sitting up, almost hovering over me.

“’It’s all for the best,’ ‘a change of scenery is just what you need, Brendon,’” I scoffed.

“What, that’s ridiculous! You have one more year of high school, didn’t they consider that this new stress could very well lead you into flunking school? Stress for kids our age is bad. Makes us rebel and despise authority figures, leads us to being too freaked out about small things to do school work… they should have considered this first, as well as your feelings about the move.”

Spencer; ever a psychologist.

“Exactly! This is absolutely ridiculous! I could hate them forever for it, disown them, in a manner of speaking, run away and become a hairdresser! I bet they never even considered that,” I said, almost smugly.

He scoffed.

“Like you’d become a hairdresser. You have awful taste in hairstyles. Look at your hair now!” he exclaimed.

“Please, you’ve been ruffling up my hair, so of course it’s terrible looking now.”

He smirked and ran his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp a bit with his fingertips.

“I guess I have been, haven’t I?” he said then bit his lip, dawning a mock innocent look on his face.

I leaned in a kissed the corner of his mouth, causing his lips to stretch out into a beaming smile.

“’S okay. I don’t mind.”

I sighed and ran a fingertip up and down the side of his hip.

“When you go, I’m really going to miss you, Bear.”

I didn’t look up at him; I just tucked myself into his chest.

“The feeling is mutual.”

*

Spencer and I had been friends for almost a year when I came out to him.

”Spence?” I asked looking up at him from his bed.

“Yeah?” he said, taking a sip of his Dr. Pepper and plopping down on the bed by my feet.

“I’m gay,” I said, voice unwavering.

It was surprisingly easy to say, seeing as how I’d been telling myself that for months now; every time I catch myself staring at him particularly hard; every time I step out of the shower and check myself out in the mirror, searching for imperfections; every time I masturbate to images of the boys in my gym class, Spencer included more then once.

“Oh,” he said, a hint of surprise in his voice, my confession probably catching him off-guard. “How do you know?”

I shrugged.

“I just do.”

He nodded and let out a noise of confirmation, staring out into space, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Cool,” he finally said, then turned to look at me, a small smile lighting up his face.


A few months after I made my confession, he made his.

”You know how you’re gay?” he said.

“What?”

“What?” he repeated. “Anyways. I think I am too. For you, at least.”

“What?” I said again.

“I think I like you in the sexual sense of that phrase.”

“Oh.”

And nothing else was said for a long time. Just him sitting on my bed, looking down at me while I still was laying down on the floor.

“Is that it?” I asked.

He shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

I nodded slowly.

“And how can you be sure?”

He shrugged again.

“I just am.”

It was surprising how casual conversations like this could be, well, not really for us. It was always casual with us.

“I like you too, Spin.”

I sat up and he leaned down and sealed it with a kiss.


It shocking how quickly time can pass when you absolutely dread it. The time when I had to go was drawing nearer and nearer and I was yelling at my parents more and more and I was avoiding the house as much as possible.

“This move is happening whether you like it or not!” my father yelled for probably the fifth time this week.

“I told you, I’m not going! I’ll run away before I’ll ever move away with you!” I screamed at him.

It was the second time I’d mentioned running away in the past three days.

“This decision is final! The house is bought! Why can’t you just be happy? why can’t you just be normal?” he yelled.

“Because I’m not! I’m just not! Kaitlin’s not happy about the move either, I can’t help it if I’m just more vocal about it!”

“You know what? No more of this! Move is FINAL!” he yelled and turned his back away from me, trying to make a physical statement as well.

“I’m going to Spencer’s!” I yelled, the slammed the door as I left.

Spencer’s wasn’t far, which I had always been grateful for, just a ten minute walk, and if the traffic lights are all working my way, seven minutes.

Spencer’s little sister Tiffany opened the door about thirty seconds after I knocked.

“Hey Brendon, he’s on the toilet, you can just wait in his room,” she said.

“Thanks, Tiff.”

“No problem. And remember, you still owe me three bucks from that bet, I told you they would win.”

“Crap, uh, hang on.”

I flip open my wallet and hand her two and she give me a look.

“All I’ve got right now, besides, my team totally deserved to win,” I said.

“All lies…” she said, walking off and shoving the money in her pocket.

I ran up two steps at a time to Spencer’s room, the second to the right.

He was already out of the bathroom when I walked in, and he didn’t even bother looking up when I did.

“Another fight?”

“Yeah.”

“Over the move?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you pay back Tiffany?”

“Two bucks.”

“You better pay the rest back soon, she’ll be pissed if you don’t.”

“I know.”

“You need to stop betting on them, they always lose against Tiffany.”

“Oh well, too late now.”

He smiled and leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.

“It’s never too late. You’re already in the closet, why not just stay in my closet till this whole move thing blows over?”

I smile and half-punch his shoulder.

“Shut up, I’ll come out to them before we move. Then they might disown me and I can come stay with you.”

“In your dreams, lover boy,” he whispered against my lips, then pressed another kiss to them.

“Oh, yeah, because you’ll just replace me with one of your many other boyfriends once I move huh?”

“Oh yeah. I’m sure Ronaldo will be very happy to finally be promoted to number one.”

I let out a small laugh.

“Shut up!”

“I’ve been thinking about it a long time. I mean, God, you’re so ungrateful, don’t even put out…”

I scoff and tackle him, pinning him to the bed.

“Shut up, Spencer, or I’ll hit you.”

“With your limp wrists?”

“Shut up!” I said with a laugh, biting the middle of his chest.

“Ow! That hurt, asshole.”

“Then shut up, fag.”

“God, you sound like such a girl, you realize this, don’t you? And your comebacks are dreadful.”

I bite his jaw and he jumps again.

“Fuck, stop it.”

“Make me.”

“Okay.”

And he easily flips us over and bites my shoulder.

“Ow!”

“That will teach you next time, fucker.”

I lean up and kiss him, then quickly place my head back down on the bed and look up at him with a smirk. He’s got the same smirk on his face as he leans down to kiss me. We probably make out for a good two minutes before separating for a breath.

“You know, that thing about putting out. I’m thinking maybe I should.”

His face went serious.

“What?”

“Yeah. I mean, I trust you. I think I might kind of love you, and I think I want you to be my first.”

“Uh… when?”

“Whenever you’re ready, I guess.”

We stayed there like that for a while, not saying anything. It wasn’t tense, our silences weren’t really tense anymore. Just… thoughtful. Meaningful, whatever.

“And I guess if you don’t put out soon, I’ll just have to open my ass up to all the boys in town.”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Now who has the bad comebacks?”

*

“Mommy?” I said to her.

She looked up from her book to look at me standing in the archway to the living room.

“You wanna come sit down, sweetheart?” she said.

I didn’t respond with words or even a nod, just simply sitting next to her. She moved her book as I rested my head on her lap, burying my face into her stomach.

I had always been close to my mother, except for now, ever since they told me we were moving. I distanced myself from her. I know people might think that that’s the reason I’m gay, my close bond with my mother, but I know plenty of straight guys who are close to their mothers, and one or two that have a disturbing relationship with their mothers. Sure, I still called her Mommy when we were alone, but that doesn’t mean anything. Hopefully.

“You know how I’ve been spending so much time with Spencer lately, more than usual?”

She smiled and nodded then said, “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

She let out a short laugh, “Of course I know. You two weren’t exactly hiding it. You’re father and sisters may be oblivious, but I’m your mother. I know.”

There was silence for a while.

“How long?”

“Almost a year.”

“How long have you known I was gay?”

“Since you were fourteen.”

“How did you find out?”

“I just knew. I’m your mother, Brendon. Not a judge or a lawyer. I don’t need evidence to see the truth. I just know these things. Don’t question my wisdom.”

“I’ll try not to,” I said with a smile, her smiling back down at me. “What are you reading?”

“Killing Yourself To Live by Chuck Klosterman. Pretty good.”

“What’s it about?”

“It’s constructed around the premise of writing a magazine featuring the deaths of rock-‘n-rollers.”

“’Rock-‘n-rollers’? You’re so cool.”

She smiled, eying the book.

“I know.”

*

It’s not long till we’re supposed to move, and Spencer finally tells me he’s ready.

“I’m ready.”

“For your ass to be beat? Don’t worry Mario, it’s happenin’.”

“No,” he said as he paused the game. “I’m already beating you. I’m ready for. You know. Sex.”

“Oh.”

It was weird that he should just say it then. Not that he said it, just. A weird time to tell me he wants to fuck me.

“When do you want to…”

“Whenever you want,” he said. “Whenever you think is right.”

I thought about it a minute.

“How about Wednesday?”

*

The irony of my mother asking me the next day while my father was out:

“Are you sexually active, Brendon?”

“What?!”

“Are you sexually active?”

I made a face.

“Why are you asking?”

“I’m your mother, naturally I’m worried about you. Are you sexually active?”

I didn’t say anything for a while before I answered.

“No, not yet.”

“Yet?”

“Well, I’m going to pop my cherry someday.”

“With Spencer?”

Again, I didn’t respond for a long time.

“Why do you think Spencer?”

“Because his mother told me she overheard you two. She’s not deaf, you know. She and I are in close contact.”

A blush made it’s way across my face, obvious embarrassment over my mother and my boyfriend’s mother hearing everything we’ve said to each other, everything we’ve… done with each other. I’ll have to warn him about that.

“It’s not your business what he and I do with each other.”

“I know. I just… want to make sure you’re safe. That you do it right. You don’t want to think back on the first time you were touched in that way and see it as a bad memory, do you?”

I didn’t respond, knowing she’d just continue.

“My first time wasn’t very pleasant, Brendon. And it’s not something I’m particularly proud of either. You know my first time wasn’t with your father? It was with my boyfriend when I was seventeen. Kevin Weller. He was so handsome, not a very nice guy though. Kind of a jerk, looking back now. But I thought I was in love with him. It was a terrible way to loose that special part of myself, that part I can never get back. Not that I don’t love you kids,” she assured me. “I just don’t want you to be upset or disappointed or hurt. So I picked you up some things.”

“Oh my God,” I said, turning away from her, out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“Brendon!”

“No! I do NOT want sex toys from my mother, that is SO creepy!”

“It’s not what you think, damn it, boy!”

I sighed, unburied my face from the cushion, and faced her.

“What is it? What do I absolutely need for my first time?”

Her face lit up as she plopped herself down next to me, in the most lady-like way possible, of course, and opened the bag she had in her hand.

“Okay, I’ve got The Joys Of Gay Sex, condoms, and lubricant. I figured anything else they had in that fascinating shop would just embarrass you more than just the necessities.”

“How is The Joys Of Gay Sex a necessity?” I asked, eying the inside of the bag. “I think we kind of know the basics, his penis, my butt…”

“Well, there’s much more to sex than that! I read through it, actually, very informative. I flagged the parts that would be most helpful for you.”

Oh my God.

“Oh my God, like this can get any creepier.”

“Well, a little bit, but I’m just trying to help, sweetie.”

“I know, I know. Thanks.”

I gave her a half smile and took the stuff up to my room.

Helpful, but seriously creepy and messed up.

*

The same thing happened to Spencer, who was also very traumatized coming out of it; apparently his mother offered to rent us a hotel room for a night, which he had to take, or else the would have figured out we originally planned to do it at his grandma’s house and they would tell on us. It was still scheduled for today, Wednesday, only now we were doing it in a hotel room.

“You don’t think they put cameras in here to, you know, see how we’re doing?” Spencer said trying to look for any spy cameras they might have placed anywhere.

“Maybe they rented out the room next to this one and they can hear every move we make,” I speculated, checking corners and walls.

He took a quick peek out side.

“No one’s out there,” he said, sticking his head back in and closing and locking the door.

“I think it’s safe in here, I don’t think they’ve planted any bugs.”

“I hope not. Otherwise they’ll see this,” he said, and he pressed himself and his lips up against me and my lips.

I pushed him over to the bed, his knees giving out when the back of them pressed against the edge of the mattress. He crawled over so that he was laying on the bed how one is supposed to lay and I crawled over to him, my knees on either sides of his hips. I pressed kisses all over his neck then whispered to him:

“I really hope they didn’t put cameras in here.”

*

Afterwards, I felt weird. Different. I guess our health teacher was right when he said sex changes people. But my feelings haven’t changed. I’m still me. There’s just a part of me that’s different. And sore. It felt good at the time, but now I’m sore. Not just… there. But generally everywhere. Sex takes a lot out of you. I liked it though. The sex and kind of the sore part. That might sound weird, but its just… having him there… the soreness just kind of reminds me he’s worth it. And how much I’m going to miss him when I’m gone.

I’m kissing him again, and he’s kissing back, and it feels good, having him with me, touching me, feeling his body on my body. That feeling a skin slick against mine, hot and soft and sweaty because we’ve just barely finished and I’ve always sweat a lot.

“I don’t want to leave,” I said, playing with the small patch of hair at the center of his chest.

“I know the feeling,” he said then he grabbed my ass.

“Perv,” I said with a small smirk, then my face turned serious again. “I don’t want to move though.”

“Again, I know how you feel,” and he cuddled his face into the side of my neck, pressing a little kiss to my jugular.

“I’m serious.”

“And so am I.”

We stayed like that for a long time till he spoke again:

“We’ve just got to make the best of what time we have left together. I know you’ve been bitching and moaning about it-“

“I have not!” I interrupted him, causing a smile to split across his face.

“You have, but what’s going to happen is inevitable. You’re going to move, you’re going to visit every once in a while and vice versa and we’ll have hot phone sex till you’re of age and you move back in with me into what will be my killer pad.”

“Oh, you’re killer pad, right,” I said sarcastically.

“Don’t mock me, it will be awesome.”

“You’ll have to get a job to afford your killer pad, what are you going to do? Wait tables, give blow jobs…?”

“Please, you’ll be the one whoring yourself out, just like you already do. And I’ll be damned if I’m waiting tables.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“My life-long dream… I’m going to work at the DMV.”

I scoffed.

“The DMV, why the DMV?”

“Because,” he said then made a dramatic pause, “I’m a sadist.”

*

It was time to go, the moving vans were heading out. It would be a five, six-hour drive from Las Vegas to Ventura. Not too long for me to go see Spencer every weekend, every-other weekend, whatever we work out, which it will. It will work out. Some say long-distance relationships never work, but I beg to differ. I think it will work, at least I hope so, and Spencer hopes too. He gave me a kiss goodbye, right in front of my dad, who deserved a good shock. He deserved to feel crappy, like how I feel right now. Fuck everyone else’s feelings, this is about me and my fucking boyfriend.

“If you promote Ronaldo, you’re dick will be cut off in the middle of the night and thrown out the window onto a moving truck, I fucking guaranty you that.”

He laughed.

“Don’t worry, everyone’s second place to you.”

“Way to sound hokey there, Smith.”

“Way to be a douche bag about me telling you I love you, Urie.”

“Way to presume I don’t love you back, Smith.”

“Oh no, I already know.”

“Is that so? Well it is presumptuous to assume that I didn’t know the same.”

“Well, I am rather presumptuous.”

“Stay that way, so I can beat the crap out of you for it the next time I see you.”

“Will do.”

And he kissed me, and we were gone. Until I come back, or he comes, or whatever the future has in store.
Current Mood: tired
Current Music: The White Stripes - Conquest

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