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Dec. 30th, 2010 08:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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bandomstuffsitTitle: So Take A Chance
Author:blindingsight
Pairing(s): Mike Carden/Spencer Smith
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Word count: ~1,960
Summary: And it was Brendon's fault for being naked.
It was all Ryan's fault. If he hadn't crawled into Spencer's bedroom window at two in the morning with his huge feet and his fourteen elbows and knocked Spencer's clock off it's safe and secure position on the nightstand then Spencer would have never been late to school.
And if Spencer had never been late to school he never would have gotten detention from Mrs. Ferguson. And it was Brendon's fault for being naked. Yes, none of this was his fault.
Two hours earlier
The detention room was down the activities hallway, past the drama room, and the band department, but before the wood shop. It was a tiny windowless room with a dozen mismatched desks and a long table across the back wall that only had three legs, the fourth corner was supported by a stack of old text books.
Spencer had been to this room a handful of times before, usually he was waiting for Ryan and once it was to deliver a message to the Detention Monitor, Pete Wentz. Mr. Harmon, the principal, liked to assign seniors to watch after school detention, he thought it would give them a sense of authority that would be useful once they graduated and moved on to college or full time jobs. Spencer thought it was because none of the teachers wanted to be in school any longer than they absolutely had to. Not that he blamed them at all.
Mr. Harmon's theory had mixed results, when Spencer was a freshman he had heard horror stories of Zack Hall, who'd graduated two years earlier, he'd heard that Zack had once made a girl cry in detention just because she forgot to bring a pencil. However, after two days of Pete Wentz's tenure the whole school knew that detention had devolved into a glorified dance party. Pete had only lasted three more days before he was replaced by Greta Salpeter.
Spencer had never been in the room though, the closest he came was standing in the doorway. He peered inside, not sure of what to expect. There were three other students in the room already, a small girl with a blonde streak in her dark hair and purple shoes was in the center of the first row staring at the clock like she was trying to make time go faster with the power of her mind. A tall guy was laying across the table in the back, his legs hanging off the edge and his left arm thrown across his eyes. Spencer wasn't sure if he was sleeping or not. The third person was Brendon Urie, he was at the blackboard drawing something that looked like a chicken riding a unicycle. Spencer coughed and scuffed his toe on the floor.
"Spence!" Brendon yelled, startling the girl. "Are you looking for Ryan? Cause I don't think he's here today."
"Uh, no. I mean, I'm." Spencer cleared his throat again, "I'm here for me."
"You? You got detention? What did you do, kill a freshman?"
"No, I was late."
"Dude, you don't get detention for being late, especially not the first time."
"Okay, fine. I sort of, swore. Near a teacher."
"You swore at a teacher? Man, that takes some balls. Was it Mr. Jenson? Cause I wouldn't blame you at all if it was."
"No, I didn't swear at her, just near her." Spencer was swearing at Ryan, it just was that Ryan wasn't in the room at the time. "Mrs. Ferguson wasn't listening to me when I tried to explain, so here I am."
"Dude, Mrs Ferguson is like, 112 years old, you can't even say 'hell' around her."
"Yeah, and now I'm in detention."
"Can't be in detention unless you actually go into the room, Smith." Spencer felt the body behind him practically pushing him into the room. Mike Carden was a senior, was in a band, had incredible hair and he also had the most amazing eyes Spencer had ever seen. Spencer had been, not in love but definitely in something with him since the third day of freshman year when Brendon had dragged him to the gym to spy on the cheerleading practice. They hid under the bleachers and while Brendon had been staring at the girls doing back-flips and basket tosses, Spencer had been watching the basketball practice on the other side of the gym where Mike Carden was working on his lay-ups.
Spencer mumbled something like an apology and quickly took a seat. Brendon turned to Mike with an accusing finger, "Where is Greta? Last time she said she'd bring cookies."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Urie, but I don't just give away my cookies to anyone. Now sit down."
Twenty minutes later Spencer was making paper airplanes with his Spanish notes, the guy in the back was snoring and the girl with the purple shoes was drawing on her arm with a sharpee. Brendon stood up quickly, knocking over his chair, and declared, "I'm hot."
Mike, who was reading a magazine, raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"No one cares, Brendon. Sit back down."
"But, no. Really, I am hot, like sweltering. You know how much I sweat Spence, and I am sweating like a really sweating thing right now." To demonstrate how hot he was, Brendon whipped off his shirt and tossed it across the room.
"Dude, put your shirt back on, that's just unsanitary."
"Were in a school, not a restaurant, no one needs to be sanitary"
"No one wants to see that Brendon, put your shirt on."
"Come on, Mike. I am hot."
"It is a little warm in here," said the girl in the purple shoes. And Spencer had to agree, it was hot. The guy in the back who Spencer was beginning to think might have been dead sat up, "The heat's on, I can feel it coming from the vent back here. Might I suggest that the Detention Monitor seek out some assistance before his charges die of heat stroke?"
"Shut up, Gabe. No one is dying of heat stroke, and no one is leaving this room for the next hour and six minuets. Now sit back down and be quiet. And for fucks sake Urie, put your shirt back on."
Five minuets later everyone was sweating, even Mike, Spencer was watching as a drop of perspiration rolled from his hairline, down his jaw and neck and then disappeared under the collar of his shirt. Spencer was imagining what it would be like to trace that drop with his finger, or his tongue.
"Come on! I am dying here!" Brendon yelled, throwing his hands up.
"Fine, I'll go and find the janitor or something. And if any of you are not in this room when I get back I will tell Mr. Harmon that you skipped out and you'll just be back here again Monday afternoon. Got it?" Brendon and the girl nodded, Gabe flipped him off. Spencer just stared at his mouth, and wondered if the sweat accumulating on his top lip would make his mouth taste salty. "Smith, you're coming with me. Everyone else, do not move."
They walked the halls for ten minuets before deciding that no one else was in the school. "Let's just go to the maintenance room, that's probably where the furnace controls are."
The maintenance room was nothing more than a glorified closet, in fact Spencer's closet at home was bigger. It was full of things like mops and brooms and those collapsible wet floor signs, but nothing that looked like temperature controls. "Okay, looks like we'll just have to suffer for the next forty two minuets."
Spencer turned to open the door but the handle wouldn't move. "Um. It’s locked?"
Mike reached past him, his hand brushing by Spencer's arm and his chest pressing into his back for the second time that day, something in Spencer's stomach did a somersault.
"Fuck." Mike muttered under his breath, Spencer closed his eyes and tried to commit that sound to his memory for his private use later on. "Well, we might as well make ourselves comfortable. At least it's not as fucking hot in here." Mike overturned an empty bucket to sit on, and Spencer had two more words he could file away in his mental 'Mike Carden' folder that he only opened in the privacy of his bedroom, and once in the shower.
Spencer leaned against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, mindful that he wasn't sitting in something gross. "Brendon will get worried about us soon, he'll come looking."
"Brendon is probably already home by now."
"What do you mean, you said for them to stay."
"You really think they'll listen to me? I bet Gabe ushered Brendon and Cassadee out of the room thirty seconds after we left."
"But you said. What about detention?"
"Spencer, it's Friday afternoon, no one gives a fuck about detention on a Friday afternoon." Mike called him Spencer, for the first time ever. He didn't even think he knew his first name.
"I didn't think you even knew my first name."
"Okay, fuck. Look. God, this is so stupid. I sort of bribed Greta to let me do detention today."
"What? Why would you do that, detention sucks."
"Because Gabe found out, don't ask me how, but he found out that you had detention today and he somehow got it in his head that it would be the perfect opportunity. And he got Greta to agree to trade. And he came up with the heat thing so we'd have an excuse to leave the room."
Spencer didn’t get it. "I don't get it."
Mike ran a hand through his still sweat damp hair causing it to stand up in litle tufts. "Christ, Smith. I like you. I've liked you for awhile and Gabe got it in his twisted little head that he could hook us up and it was really stupid idea and I'm sorry, okay? I got us locked in here and now were going to die in a tiny room filled with brooms." Mike spoke very fast, and didn’t make eye contact.
"You like me. You, Mr Star of the Basketball team like me?”
“Sort of. I mean, I get it if you don’t like, reciprocate, it’s not a big deal. We can forget any of this happened.”
“Seriously? That is awesome”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But dude, your plan was to get us trapped in the closet for days? That is a really stupid plan. We’re going to die in here, you know that right?”
“It’s been ten minuets, we’re not going to die in here.”
“No, we totally are, this mmfph” Spencer couldn’t finish his sentence because Mike Carden had him pushed up against the door and yeah, his mouth did taste like salt. But Spencer was really, really okay with that.
One hour later
“Dude, you should have seen your face! It was awesome.”
“Shut up, Brendon.”
“No really, today was the best day. You got yourself a hot boyfriend, even if he does have weird eyes, and you know the girl in detention with us, Cassadee? I so got her number. We’re going mini golfing tomorrow. You and Mike want to double?”
“No really, shut the fuck up Brendon.” Mini golfing did sound like fun. Spencer would have to call and Mike about that later tonight.
Author:
blindingsightPairing(s): Mike Carden/Spencer Smith
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Word count: ~1,960
Summary: And it was Brendon's fault for being naked.
It was all Ryan's fault. If he hadn't crawled into Spencer's bedroom window at two in the morning with his huge feet and his fourteen elbows and knocked Spencer's clock off it's safe and secure position on the nightstand then Spencer would have never been late to school.
And if Spencer had never been late to school he never would have gotten detention from Mrs. Ferguson. And it was Brendon's fault for being naked. Yes, none of this was his fault.
Two hours earlier
The detention room was down the activities hallway, past the drama room, and the band department, but before the wood shop. It was a tiny windowless room with a dozen mismatched desks and a long table across the back wall that only had three legs, the fourth corner was supported by a stack of old text books.
Spencer had been to this room a handful of times before, usually he was waiting for Ryan and once it was to deliver a message to the Detention Monitor, Pete Wentz. Mr. Harmon, the principal, liked to assign seniors to watch after school detention, he thought it would give them a sense of authority that would be useful once they graduated and moved on to college or full time jobs. Spencer thought it was because none of the teachers wanted to be in school any longer than they absolutely had to. Not that he blamed them at all.
Mr. Harmon's theory had mixed results, when Spencer was a freshman he had heard horror stories of Zack Hall, who'd graduated two years earlier, he'd heard that Zack had once made a girl cry in detention just because she forgot to bring a pencil. However, after two days of Pete Wentz's tenure the whole school knew that detention had devolved into a glorified dance party. Pete had only lasted three more days before he was replaced by Greta Salpeter.
Spencer had never been in the room though, the closest he came was standing in the doorway. He peered inside, not sure of what to expect. There were three other students in the room already, a small girl with a blonde streak in her dark hair and purple shoes was in the center of the first row staring at the clock like she was trying to make time go faster with the power of her mind. A tall guy was laying across the table in the back, his legs hanging off the edge and his left arm thrown across his eyes. Spencer wasn't sure if he was sleeping or not. The third person was Brendon Urie, he was at the blackboard drawing something that looked like a chicken riding a unicycle. Spencer coughed and scuffed his toe on the floor.
"Spence!" Brendon yelled, startling the girl. "Are you looking for Ryan? Cause I don't think he's here today."
"Uh, no. I mean, I'm." Spencer cleared his throat again, "I'm here for me."
"You? You got detention? What did you do, kill a freshman?"
"No, I was late."
"Dude, you don't get detention for being late, especially not the first time."
"Okay, fine. I sort of, swore. Near a teacher."
"You swore at a teacher? Man, that takes some balls. Was it Mr. Jenson? Cause I wouldn't blame you at all if it was."
"No, I didn't swear at her, just near her." Spencer was swearing at Ryan, it just was that Ryan wasn't in the room at the time. "Mrs. Ferguson wasn't listening to me when I tried to explain, so here I am."
"Dude, Mrs Ferguson is like, 112 years old, you can't even say 'hell' around her."
"Yeah, and now I'm in detention."
"Can't be in detention unless you actually go into the room, Smith." Spencer felt the body behind him practically pushing him into the room. Mike Carden was a senior, was in a band, had incredible hair and he also had the most amazing eyes Spencer had ever seen. Spencer had been, not in love but definitely in something with him since the third day of freshman year when Brendon had dragged him to the gym to spy on the cheerleading practice. They hid under the bleachers and while Brendon had been staring at the girls doing back-flips and basket tosses, Spencer had been watching the basketball practice on the other side of the gym where Mike Carden was working on his lay-ups.
Spencer mumbled something like an apology and quickly took a seat. Brendon turned to Mike with an accusing finger, "Where is Greta? Last time she said she'd bring cookies."
"Sorry to disappoint you, Urie, but I don't just give away my cookies to anyone. Now sit down."
Twenty minutes later Spencer was making paper airplanes with his Spanish notes, the guy in the back was snoring and the girl with the purple shoes was drawing on her arm with a sharpee. Brendon stood up quickly, knocking over his chair, and declared, "I'm hot."
Mike, who was reading a magazine, raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"No one cares, Brendon. Sit back down."
"But, no. Really, I am hot, like sweltering. You know how much I sweat Spence, and I am sweating like a really sweating thing right now." To demonstrate how hot he was, Brendon whipped off his shirt and tossed it across the room.
"Dude, put your shirt back on, that's just unsanitary."
"Were in a school, not a restaurant, no one needs to be sanitary"
"No one wants to see that Brendon, put your shirt on."
"Come on, Mike. I am hot."
"It is a little warm in here," said the girl in the purple shoes. And Spencer had to agree, it was hot. The guy in the back who Spencer was beginning to think might have been dead sat up, "The heat's on, I can feel it coming from the vent back here. Might I suggest that the Detention Monitor seek out some assistance before his charges die of heat stroke?"
"Shut up, Gabe. No one is dying of heat stroke, and no one is leaving this room for the next hour and six minuets. Now sit back down and be quiet. And for fucks sake Urie, put your shirt back on."
Five minuets later everyone was sweating, even Mike, Spencer was watching as a drop of perspiration rolled from his hairline, down his jaw and neck and then disappeared under the collar of his shirt. Spencer was imagining what it would be like to trace that drop with his finger, or his tongue.
"Come on! I am dying here!" Brendon yelled, throwing his hands up.
"Fine, I'll go and find the janitor or something. And if any of you are not in this room when I get back I will tell Mr. Harmon that you skipped out and you'll just be back here again Monday afternoon. Got it?" Brendon and the girl nodded, Gabe flipped him off. Spencer just stared at his mouth, and wondered if the sweat accumulating on his top lip would make his mouth taste salty. "Smith, you're coming with me. Everyone else, do not move."
They walked the halls for ten minuets before deciding that no one else was in the school. "Let's just go to the maintenance room, that's probably where the furnace controls are."
The maintenance room was nothing more than a glorified closet, in fact Spencer's closet at home was bigger. It was full of things like mops and brooms and those collapsible wet floor signs, but nothing that looked like temperature controls. "Okay, looks like we'll just have to suffer for the next forty two minuets."
Spencer turned to open the door but the handle wouldn't move. "Um. It’s locked?"
Mike reached past him, his hand brushing by Spencer's arm and his chest pressing into his back for the second time that day, something in Spencer's stomach did a somersault.
"Fuck." Mike muttered under his breath, Spencer closed his eyes and tried to commit that sound to his memory for his private use later on. "Well, we might as well make ourselves comfortable. At least it's not as fucking hot in here." Mike overturned an empty bucket to sit on, and Spencer had two more words he could file away in his mental 'Mike Carden' folder that he only opened in the privacy of his bedroom, and once in the shower.
Spencer leaned against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, mindful that he wasn't sitting in something gross. "Brendon will get worried about us soon, he'll come looking."
"Brendon is probably already home by now."
"What do you mean, you said for them to stay."
"You really think they'll listen to me? I bet Gabe ushered Brendon and Cassadee out of the room thirty seconds after we left."
"But you said. What about detention?"
"Spencer, it's Friday afternoon, no one gives a fuck about detention on a Friday afternoon." Mike called him Spencer, for the first time ever. He didn't even think he knew his first name.
"I didn't think you even knew my first name."
"Okay, fuck. Look. God, this is so stupid. I sort of bribed Greta to let me do detention today."
"What? Why would you do that, detention sucks."
"Because Gabe found out, don't ask me how, but he found out that you had detention today and he somehow got it in his head that it would be the perfect opportunity. And he got Greta to agree to trade. And he came up with the heat thing so we'd have an excuse to leave the room."
Spencer didn’t get it. "I don't get it."
Mike ran a hand through his still sweat damp hair causing it to stand up in litle tufts. "Christ, Smith. I like you. I've liked you for awhile and Gabe got it in his twisted little head that he could hook us up and it was really stupid idea and I'm sorry, okay? I got us locked in here and now were going to die in a tiny room filled with brooms." Mike spoke very fast, and didn’t make eye contact.
"You like me. You, Mr Star of the Basketball team like me?”
“Sort of. I mean, I get it if you don’t like, reciprocate, it’s not a big deal. We can forget any of this happened.”
“Seriously? That is awesome”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But dude, your plan was to get us trapped in the closet for days? That is a really stupid plan. We’re going to die in here, you know that right?”
“It’s been ten minuets, we’re not going to die in here.”
“No, we totally are, this mmfph” Spencer couldn’t finish his sentence because Mike Carden had him pushed up against the door and yeah, his mouth did taste like salt. But Spencer was really, really okay with that.
One hour later
“Dude, you should have seen your face! It was awesome.”
“Shut up, Brendon.”
“No really, today was the best day. You got yourself a hot boyfriend, even if he does have weird eyes, and you know the girl in detention with us, Cassadee? I so got her number. We’re going mini golfing tomorrow. You and Mike want to double?”
“No really, shut the fuck up Brendon.” Mini golfing did sound like fun. Spencer would have to call and Mike about that later tonight.
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