we're not on the map but we're on our way

2/3

"We've got gas now," Jon says, shielding his eyes in the morning sun blinding his vision.

"'Kay," Brendon replies with a timid nod. He stays still, and he's been out in the wild by himself for five hours, and Jon thinks he looks terrible.

Jon nods and buries his hands in his pockets. In the car, Spencer reaches over to the steering wheel and presses down, the car honking.

Jon starts walking back to the car. He looks over his shoulder and asks, "You coming?"

Brendon hesitates for a split second, but then rushes after him, clutching his bag nervously. They get back in the car and no one says anything. Jon has never been too good with apologies.

* * *

Brendon has a nightmare. He can't remember much of it, except that he was alone and bleeding, he was being chased. He wakes up terrified, tears on his cheeks. But he isn't alone, bleeding or being chased. He is lying on his back between Jon and Spencer on a king sized bed in yet another motel. This room was the only one they had left. It's early in the afternoon, but they were all exhausted after a night of being stuck by the side of the road.

Brendon breathes in deep, tries to stop shaking, but can't. He feels like he is going to die.

"What is it?" Spencer murmurs from his other side, cracking an eye open.

"N-n-nothing," Brendon whispers.

"C'mere," Spencer says, but Brendon stays still as Spencer moves closer to him under the covers, pressing to his side. Brendon freezes completely as Spencer's erection digs against his hip, he is quite sure his eyes drop out of his head. "It's okay," Spencer assures him, pressing a kiss to his neck, letting the tip of his tongue brush Brendon's skin.

Brendon is shaking, still, but now it's different. Spencer wakes up more, he lets out a sigh and presses even closer. He begins to kiss Brendon's neck slowly but hungrily. Brendon can't say a word because no one has touched him like this before. Spencer's hand is on his t-shirt, slipping down to snake under it, Spencer's fingers graze his stomach, and it shouldn't be affecting Brendon like this. Spencer is a guy, a guy he barely knows, but Brendon is already hard, and he is too terrified to say "Stop!" and he is too terrified to say "Don't stop."

Spencer kisses Brendon on the lips. He captures Brendon's lower lip, sucking on it slightly. He keeps going until Brendon relaxes a little, not much, but a little, and Spencer eventually gets Brendon to part his lips.

When Jon wakes up, he sees Spencer partly on top of Brendon, kissing him. Brendon is shaking beneath him, and he is moaning, but the moans are lost and helpless. Jon can't see where Spencer's hand is, but it disappears under the duvet they're all sharing. From the way Brendon sounds and pulls in air, Jon knows Spencer is stroking him. The sight of it makes it difficult for Jon to breathe, makes him so hard he can barely believe it.

"Hey," Jon says, his voice heavy with sleep and arousal.

Spencer pulls back from kissing Brendon and looks at Jon. Spencer says nothing, but pulls off his shirt and tugs the covers aside. Brendon looks from Jon to Spencer, eyes wide and lips glistening. Jon takes a hold of the hem of Brendon's t-shirt and begins to pull it off him, and Brendon doesn't say "Stop" and he doesn't say "Don't stop."

"Relax," Jon whispers in his ear, and then it's Jon's mouth on his, Jon's tongue in his mouth. There are four hands on him, and Brendon doesn't know which belongs to whom, but they are everywhere, making his skin tingle. Brendon feels air hit his lower half as Spencer removes his boxers, and he can't think, because everything feels warm and wet and good. Brendon lets out a loud, surprised moan against Jon's mouth when Spencer wraps his lips around Brendon's cock. Jon is hard against Brendon, and Brendon knows it's wrong in many ways, wrong, wrong, wrong, but it manages to feel right in that small motel room.