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iris writes awesomely hot porn, jon/spencer, jon/spencer/cassie, the epic love story

Three's Company (Jon/Cassie, Jon/Spencer/Cassie; NC-17)
Three's Company
Part of The Epic Love Story of Brendon Urie and Frank Iero by why_me_why_not and irisgirl12000
NC-17, ~5000 words, Jon/Cassie, Jon/Spencer/Cassie
Just as a reminder: completely, totally untrue. There's a reason it's called Real Person Fiction.

Summary: The tour brings Panic! to Chicago, and Cassie takes in a show.

*


Cassie has only met Dirty at a couple of Pete's parties, so she doesn't have much to say when she greets the security guys. He explains that Zack's with the band, and then escorts her back to the lounge that belongs to Panic! at the Disco for the night. She'd been unable to get away in time for Jon to meet her; he and the other guys were at a meet and greet for some VIPs Pete and Decaydance had put together.

"I'll let Walker know you're here," is all Dirty says when he shows her into the room. She sits down on the sofa, smoothes her dress carefully down over her knees.

Ten seconds.

Thirty seconds.

She tries to sit still, but she can't. Her heartbeat is too fast, and she feels shaky, nervous, but excited, so excited, thinking about what she's about to do.

She's circled the room twice, and is studying a poster listing the United Center's upcoming events when Jon comes in.

"Hey." He pulls her into a tight hug, kisses her lightly before smiling and loosening his hold.

"Hi." And, okay, she maybe needs another one of those to help her gather up her nerve to suggest her idea to Jon, so she stands on her tiptoes—just that little bit higher than her heels already lift her—and slides her hands into his hair, pulling him down for a long, slow kiss that has her heart speeding and her body revving. She forces herself to relax, curve into him, and when their lips part, they're both smiling.

"Spencer around?"

Jon tenses slightly, and she can tell he's afraid there's going to be a scene. Not on her agenda; she meant it when she said she was okay with them. There are some things she can't give Jon: a cock and her constant presence while he's on tour are in that number. She doesn't think Jon knows about it, but she and Spencer had a long, nothing-off-limits conversation after Jon's confession, and that's part of the reason she feels okay about what she plans to ask for tonight.

"He and Andy were arguing socialist theory with a student from the University of Chicago. He'll probably end up staying until they force all the meet-and-greet kids out to the pit."

The knots in her stomach tighten. She wants to do this, but she needs to work herself up to it.

"Mm. What about Brendon and Ryan?"

Cassie's already walking Jon backwards, herding him to the sofa. When he sits, she follows him down, planting herself in his lap. This distracts Jon, and she has to ask again before he mutters against her lips, "Don't know. With Pete? They're around. Somewhere."

Satisfied, she smiles into his kiss, letting her body melt against his and devoting her energy to the next step on the agenda.

Cassie shifts, twisting until she's facing Jon, a knee planted on either side of his thighs, giving her space to slide her hands between them. She cups him through stiff fabric, letting her hand curve to follow the shape and squeezing slightly. Jon's whole body trembles, and his hands move to hold her hips.

Now's the time, on any other day, that Cassie would stop him, tell him that the rest of the band was going to be here any minute, that they didn't have time, that she'd make it up to him later.

Instead of the denial he clearly expects, Cassie unfastens the jeans' button, slides the tab of Jon's zipper down.

"Cass?"

She doesn't stop, though. It only takes a little bit of rearranging and shifting before Jon's cock is bare, hot and hard in her hand. She jacks it a couple of times, enjoying the weight in her hand and the tingle of arousal she gets from knowing she did this to him, and then lifts up slightly on her knees. Jon's hands slide down the outside of her thighs and back up the inside, but he stops short, his thumbs riding the crease of her thighs, the palms of his hands resting beneath the curve of her ass. She reaches down and pushes damp cotton panties out of the way. Looking him in the eye, she deliberately lines herself up and settles over Jon, sliding down in a single smooth motion until he's completely inside.

"Fu-uck," Jon gasps. Cassie can sympathize; she knows what she's doing, what she's going to do, and still the pleasure she feels is breath-stealing. Jon's grip tightens, and she wonders if she'll have bruises. She hopes so.

She moves, little rocking motions that allow her to lean forward into Jon again. They find a familiar rhythm, and the slip-slide of his lips and tongue against hers is a counterpoint to the press and retreat of his cock inside her and his pelvis against hers. It feels so good after being apart so long that Cassie almost regrets that it'll have to end.

But it will. Because this is part of the plan.

When Jon uses his nose and chin to push the neckline of her dress aside and lay a line of wet heat down her collarbone to her nipple, Cassie curls around him and pulls him back up to whisper in his ear.

"I've been thinking about this all day. All week, really." Is that her voice, so husky and low? "I'm going to come, and I want you to come inside me, and then I'm going to pull my panties back into place. You'll think about it all during the show tonight. Can you concentrate enough to play your bass, knowing that I'll spend the whole night wet from you, from thinking about it? " Cassie has to stop to swallow, to take a deep breath, because the idea of what she's about to say makes her shiver in anticipation, and it brings her that much closer to orgasm. "I want you to think about this, too. Tonight, after the show? We're going to take Spencer back to your apartment, and I want him to taste you on me. I want him to fuck me. And while he is, I want you to fuck him."

Jon's hands are moving, shifting to curve over Cassie's hipbones, and he's pulling her down onto him more forcefully. A tiny fragment of her mind catalogues the reaction to her words, files it away as approval.

"It'll be like having both of you inside me at the same time."

And this, riding him, with pressure against her clitoris and Jon hitting her G spot, is good, great, almost enough to make Cassie come. But the idea of that, combined with the jerk of Jon's cock inside her at her words, pushes her over. She lets her weight push her further onto Jon, clenching and squeezing him until the paroxysm passes, and she leans against him, limp. She feels Jon pulsing inside her, feels the combined wetness and heat in her cunt and on her thighs.

When she can speak again, she asks, "I take it that's a yes?"

She can feel his prick twitch, even though it's softening and spent now. Still, Jon looks at her, clearly concerned.

"Are you sure you want to do that? I wouldn't ask for it."

"I know." She smiles, a cat-in-cream expression of satisfaction, and rests her forehead against his. "But I want to. And you do too, if your reaction is anything to go by."

"Fuck, yes. The two of you? Together? My heart may explode. I know my cock will."



****



The thing is, Spencer likes Cassie. She's pretty and smart and sweet, the kind of girl he crushed on when he was in school, but was too shy and dorky to approach. And she's Jon's, so he'd be disposed to like her in any case, but still. The fact that she knows what he and Jon have been doing is just a little bit weird and intimidating. He's expecting the whole evening to be a bit awkward, even though she'd been supercool about the whole thing.

Then again, what could be more awkward than a morning-after (well, afternoon really) telephone conversation about safe sex and sexual histories with your most recent sex partner's girlfriend? Spencer hopes never to have anything like that discussion again, thanksverymuch.

But the weirdness he's expecting never materializes. When they all meet before the show, Cassie greets Ryan and Brendon with her usual cheer. Spencer hangs back, waiting for something, he doesn't know what, so she comes over and hugs him, and it only takes a split second of indecisive relief before he's squeezing her tight.

"Hey."

She smiles, releases him and goes back to her spot on the couch. And now that he looks more closely, hey, hi, Jon is way more relaxed than he usually is before a show. Spencer recognizes that expression. Cassie catches his eye again, smiles widely, and there's a tightening in his stomach that Spencer knows knows is going to get him into trouble. Because, yeah, smart and pretty and sweet and Jon's, but also? Totally hot when she's just the littlest bit mussed and still pink with a just-fucked glow.

But then it's time to get into costume and makeup and get into the headspace for their performance, so he shoves the distraction to the back of his mind and does his job.

(Spencer loves the fact that playing drums for huge audiences at arenas and stadia and fairgrounds counts as his job. Some days he can't believe this is his life. Today is one of them.)

They're waiting their turns for the shower—Ryan went first, the cheater—when Cassie asks Spencer what he's doing tonight. He figures he'll spend the free time they have in Chicago with Pete and Ryan or Brendon (Bob promised to take him and Frank out), because he doesn't want to be a third wheel, but when he says as much, she objects.

"You should come with us."

Spencer means to decline, he really does, but Jon is standing there, his hair wet, a sweaty towel on his shoulder, smiling encouragingly at him, and he forgets how to say no.

He regrets it a little when they get to Jon's apartment. It's got a closed-off air—Jon and Cassie have talked about her moving in, but it's a longer commute for her from here and she's tied into a lease with her roommates for a few more months—but the single houseplant is only slightly wilted.

"Make yourself comfortable." Cassie disappears down the hallway to the bathroom and Jon takes his bag into the bedroom, and Spencer's left standing in the living room. Then Cassie's back, and he watches as she moves confidently around the kitchen. He feels out of place, even though he's been here before. The feeling of otherness is exacerbated when she comes back with a glass of club soda for him and wine for herself.

She sits down next to him on the sofa (and hello, it's not like there wasn't any space left; he was occupying a tiny corner, folded in on himself in his unease) and starts talking, chattering about her roommate, Jon's cat, about the night's show, and Spencer just nods and makes agreeable noises whenever he thinks it's appropriate. He's wondering if it would be rude to leave, to head back to the hotel where the other guys are staying, when he realizes that she's asked a question and is apparently waiting on an answer.

"Um, sorry. What?" Spencer shifts restlessly, feels the rub of her leg against his jeans with the motion.

Cassie just looks at him seriously for a long moment, then puts about an inch of space between them. "I won't bite."

"That's a lie," Jon says. He's just standing there, watching them, and Spencer has no idea how long he's been there.

"I promise he'll want me to bite when or if I do, then." Spencer's pretty sure he's never seen such a predatory expression on Cassie's face. She gets up, walks—saunters, really—toward Jon, and lets her body brush his. She puts a scrap of fabric into Jon's hand (Where did that come from? Spencer wonders) before saying quite clearly, "Bedtime. Now," before disappearing into the bedroom.

And, okay, that is definitely his cue to leave. Spencer gets up.

"I should go."

"Actually, no, you should stay." Jon moves, and he's not blocking Spencer's path exactly, but he's not letting him go, either.

"Jon, c'mon. It's fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

But Jon shakes his head. He lifts his hand, and Spencer can see now, oh Christ, the fabric. It's a little black bit of elastic and cotton and lace and it's Cassie's underwear, and he was sitting there with her bare next to him all that time? Spencer chokes a little, because no matter what Cassie's cool about and Jon is willing to do with him while they're on tour, he thinks maybe perving on Cassie is a little inappropriate. (But that won't stop him from jerking off to the thought when he gets back to the hotel, he thinks with a small amount of shame.)

"Don't go." Jon reaches out, and his hand circles Spencer's wrist, twisting it so that he can put the panties in Spencer's hand. "We had sex earlier, before the show."

Well, duh.

Spencer waits.

Spencer's never seen Jon so hesitant before, but then he apparently gathers his courage and pushes everything out, stumbling over his words. "She mentioned it then, and it was—god. She—We want you to have sex with us. With her. Cassie, I mean. And me. We—she—yeah." He huffs out a breath and closes his eyes.

It isn't appealing, how embarrassed and awkward Jon is. Or, maybe it would be if Spencer wasn't completely and utterly turned on by the idea of Jon and Cassie together. With him. In the same bed. Something in his brain fizzles.

"Spence? Say something?"

Spencer isn't sure he's capable of speech at the moment, so he just nods. The grip on his wrist tightens fractionally, then Jon is tugging Spencer into the bedroom.

When they get there, Cassie is lighting a candle on the nightstand, and Spencer stops to admire the feminine gesture, the way her lips purse to blow out the match. Jon continues, moves behind her. Spencer watches as she straightens, watches as Jon puts his hand on her shoulders, kisses the nape of her neck, and then moves his hand from her neck down, lowering the zipper of her dress. It falls, and Cassie catches it, holds it against her chest for a second before she lets it fall to the floor.

The nervous gesture undoes Spencer.

"Cassie… you don't have to do this."

"I want to. It's just been a while since I've done this in front of anybody but Jon. I forgot how nerve-wracking it can be."

Spencer gets that. "I, um, I haven't been with anybody except Jon since I broke up with Haley. You know that, right?" He waits until Cassie nods. "And she's the only real girlfriend I've had. So we can be nervous together."

Cassie nods again, and when Jon steps back she lets go, lets her dress fall to the floor, and then she's closer, close enough to slide an arm around her waist and pull her into the curve of his arm, to card his fingers through her hair and admire as she leans into the caress. Spencer deliberately doesn't look at Jon, doesn't want to feel like he's asking permission before he cups her cheek in one hand and lets his other fall to Cassie's hip, anchoring her. He moves the last few inches slowly, though, giving her a chance to back out.

She doesn't. She tilts her head and her eyes are sliding closed when Spencer's lips brush hers. He kisses her lightly at first, enjoying the slick slide and taste of lip-gloss, the curve of her cheek under his hand. He waits for her to invite him to deepen the kiss, waits for her lips to part and for her to become a more active participant, dropping small kisses and nips on her lower lip until she does. When she does, her head tilts back and her lips part, and Spencer looks over her shoulder at Jon, who seems incapable of looking away.

Lately all of Spencer's kisses have been for Jon, and he likes, loves the way Jon kisses, but he enjoys the contrast here. Cassie's smaller, slimmer, and there's no stubble against his chin but there are breasts against his chest, and he really likes that. A lot. Cassie does too, apparently, because she's rubbing against him, and she's got one hand on the nape of his neck, sliding into his hair to hold him where she wants him. Spencer has no idea how much time passes, and he really doesn't care: he can hear Jon moving, and the room dims but doesn't darken completely, and he's got soft, curvy woman in his arms and against his tongue, so life is good.

He finally lifts his head when he feels Cassie's hand untangling from his hair, moving down his chest to the hem of his shirt. She tugs it up, and as soon as it clears his head, he bends back to her, brushing his lips over her lips and cheeks, over to her ear.

"Bed?" he whispers, and when she nods he steers her backwards. When they reach the bed he lifts her onto it, and Jon's there, shifting her so that she's got a pillow at her back, then he sprawls at the foot of the bed, barefoot but fully dressed, his shirt untucked. Spencer shucks his jeans and climbs on, coming to rest on his side, draped against Cassie's.

"Okay?"

Okay, so he's not brilliant at the seduction routine. At the moment, all his brain cells are occupied by the sheer beauty of Cassie's skin, bare and golden, and the fact that Jon is sitting quietly, watching, and even though they've just been kissing, nothing more explicit than that, Spencer is as hard as he's ever been.

"Spencer, c'mere."

So Spencer props himself on his elbow and kisses Cassie again. He lets his hand rest on her ribcage at first, then tentatively slides it down to her waist and back up so that his fingertips brush the curve of her breast. That teasing touch has her pressing upward into his mouth, dragging his hand higher, pressing it more firmly, and Spencer feels Cassie's legs shift restlessly against him.

There's a muffled groan, and Spencer and Cassie separate enough to look at Jon, who has his hand pressed against his cock and his eyes fixed on them, his lower lip caught between sharp white teeth.

Holy Christ, Jon's as turned on by watching this as Spencer is by doing it. And if the flushed skin and beaded nipples are any indication, so is Cassie.

Spencer leans over her again, brushes his nose and then his lips over the curve of her breast, then opens his mouth over her nipple and blows a warm breath over it. Her hands tangle in his hair and pull him down. While his lips and tongue are engaged there, he lets his hand wander down her belly, over smooth, soft skin. His fingers drift over the sharp curve of her hipbones and down to the thatch of dark blonde curls at the apex of her thighs. He pauses there to feel the heat and moisture against his palm, enjoys the way her hips rock and her back arches, pushing herself into his mouth, against his hand. Her knee lifts.

Spencer is enjoying the steady buildup, wants to savor it. He shifts, moves and maneuvers until he's sliding down on top of and against Cassie's body. He presses a kiss to her pubic mound, really just a touch with open mouth and a gust of warm breath before he slides the last little bit and settles between her legs.

He takes a second to admire the damp skin, flushed with blood and swollen. The glistening smear of wetness is more temptation than Spencer can resist. He brushes his thumb down and up the labia, circles her clit. A whimper has him looking up her body to see Cassie biting her lip. He turns his head, checks to see Jon's opinion of the proceedings, and finds that Jon's pants are unzipped now, his shirt unbuttoned. One hand is curled around Cassie's ankle, and the other his moving in a rhythm Spencer recognizes. His dick twitches in anticipation, and Spencer presses his forehead to Cassie's thigh, thinks the most disgusting thoughts he can, and when he has himself under control he refocuses on Cassie. He lets his thumb retrace its path, settling against her clit with barely-there pressure, and while Cassie's still reacting to the touch, he follows it with his tongue.

Spencer loves doing this, has missed it. He likes blowjobs, giving and receiving, and he'd had fun learning to give a good one, but they're instinctive. He knows what he likes, and it's easy to imitate that. Going down on a girl—woman—though, is different. It had taken practice, and Haley telling him, guiding him, showing him what felt good. He's a goals-oriented guy, and he really likes knowing that what he's doing is giving pleasure. He likes the way Cassie's hips feel against his hand, the soft sounds she makes when he moves his fingers, the way she smells, the way she tastes. Which, yeah, is female, but that's not all. She tastes like Jon. And, fuck, Spencer knows, because they talked about this, that Cassie and Jon have been together long enough that they don't use condoms anymore, but somehow that didn't connect in his brain until he had the flavor of Cassie and Jon and sheer want on his tongue.

His thumb slides down again, rubs lightly as Spencer seals his mouth over her clit and sucks gently. Spencer's name is a broken hiss on Cassie's lips, and she shudders and arches against him before tension flows out of her body.

Spencer lifts his head and looks up her torso, admiring the flush on her chest as it rises and falls with quickened breaths.

He drops a kiss on her thigh before kneeling up and turning to Jon. Jon's gaze holds the heat of a thousand suns, but he's still stroking himself leisurely. Spencer crawls over Cassie's leg to get to him, fists a hand in his shirt, and opens his mouth over Jon's. It's sloppy and wet and desperate, and Spencer has no idea how to ask for what he wants, because he really wants to come and he wants Jon to, but he's not sure what permutations of the three of them they'd been thinking when they suggested this. But then Cassie whimpers, and they pull apart long enough to see that she's watching them, and even though she just came, there's undiluted desire in her eyes.

She doesn't say anything, but Jon must know what she wants because he nods, rubs his hand up her calf soothingly. Then he tells Spencer, "Tonight, earlier, she told me what she wanted. You, coming inside her, and me fucking you. Both of us, together," and he sounds like he actually thinks that Spencer might say no.

As. If.

Spencer's pretty sure that if he thinks too much about what they're about to do, events will be over before they're even started.

Deep breaths.

Really gross thoughts.

Yeah.

When he has a firm grip on himself again, he crashes his lips against Jon's for a short, hard kiss, then turns back to Cassie.

His "I'm not done with you yet," has her eyes closing, and she knots her fists in the sheets and arches like a cat. Spencer crawls back into position, dragging his fingertips over Jon's as he moves, drawing them up, up, until he's framing her pussy with his hands. He presses his mouth to warm, wet flesh, licking and sucking and biting gently, cataloguing what earns a moan and what has her hands settling in his hair and tugging. When she's flexing restlessly against him, he uses his thumbs to open her, thrusts two fingers and his tongue in hard, and is rewarded by a keened, "Please!"

When Spencer lifts his head, he sees that Jon's been busy. He's naked now, and there's lube and two condoms on the bed next to him.

"It's up to you."

Spencer trusts Jon. He's trusted him with his band, with his best friend, with himself, but wow. This, this is big.

He looks at Jon, at the foil wrappers, at Cassie, and he nods. He can do this. They can do this.

He withdraws his hand, stretches himself back over Cassie, his pelvis resting over hers, and tucks her knee up by his hip. She bucks up into him, and the head of his cock brushes against wet, swollen flesh. She pushes up on her elbows and takes his bottom lip between her teeth, pulling him back with her as she collapses to the mattress, and he lines up and slides home.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Intellectually, Spencer knows that there's a reason most guys hate condoms. But before tonight he's never been tempted: STDs, HIV, pregnancy are not on his agenda. All good reasons to be safe. But this, inside Cassie, hot and wet and tight and soverygood, with no latex between her skin and his? It feels more intimate than anything he's ever done before, and he shudders uncontrollably when he thinks about sharing the same feeling with Jon.

He's got Cassie to think about right now, though, so he moves, making shallow, gentle thrusts in time with the motion of his tongue against hers. Spencer just barely sets up a rhythm that has her humming against his lips when he feels Jon move in close behind them. There's a flutter of lips against his shoulder, and then Jon is leaning against his back, and three mouths tangle together.

They manage to shift so that Cassie's knees buttress Spencer's hips, and Jon is pressed to Spencer's back. Spencer knows he probably means to be slow and careful, but even the snick of the lube's cap opening is almost too much stimulus. The brush of fingertips down the curve of his ass and against his entrance has his hips stuttering, and he can't control his groan when two slick fingers push in.

"Just do it," he gasps, hoping that the burning stretch that is sure to result will keep him from coming embarrassingly early.

Jon complies, fitting himself against Spencer's back like a matched puzzle piece and pushing into Spencer, and Spencer savors the scrape-slide that ends when Jon's deep as he can go, his forehead pressed to the back of Spencer's neck. Spencer feels a puff of hot breath against his shoulder blade, then Jon's arms are shifting under his, moving so he can hold Cassie's shoulder on one side and Spencer's hip on the other.

Spencer is still, so still, waiting. He knows if he moves, it'll put pressure where Cassie wants it, but he's pretty sure any motion will have Jon's cock dragging against his prostate, and there'll be no stopping the orgasm he feels coming.

Cassie rocks her hips, the littlest bit, and Spencer shifts reflexively, and, "I can't—god, just move."

That's apparently all Jon needs, because he's moving now, and Spencer uses his momentum to drive up, into Cassie. He tries to touch her, to wedge his hand between them and touch where they're joined, because there's no way he's going to last long, and he wants, needs her to come too.

He buries his head in the crook of her neck and feels Jon stretch over his shoulder as he and Cassie kiss awkwardly. Jon doesn't stop moving, and the steady stroke of his cock inside Spencer has him whispering into Cassie's ear, begging her.

"I'm gonna come, can't stop it. Want you to come, and then I'll come inside you, just like you wanted. So good, so hot and tight around me and Jon's so hard inside me and please. " He doesn't even know what he's saying anymore, and finally, to stop the babble, he licks up to her ear and sucks the lobe into his mouth.

There's a hiccup-ing gasp, then a moan Spencer recognizes as Jon's. Cassie's arms tighten around him, and she's squeezing and pulsing around his cock, against his fingers, and that's all it takes. Spencer's hips jerk into Cassie, disrupting Jon's rhythm, and he keeps his promise.

"Oh god, Spence. Cassie."

Jon's hips jerk once, twice, three times, and his belly is pushed tight against Spencer's ass as he rides out his own orgasm. Part of Spencer thinks that if he wasn't already in the midst of coming, knowing that Jon was coming in his ass would be enough to make it happen.

Spencer's arms are shaking when Jon carefully pulls out and collapses. Spencer rolls to his side, pulling Cassie with him, and Jon spoons against her back. Cassie's eyes are closed but she's smiling, almost purring. Spencer tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and kisses her gently, while Jon presses his lips to her shoulder. Both of them drape an arm over her torso, keeping her close and managing to touch each other as well. Spencer is extremely conscious of the humid warmth against his hip, of the trickle of wetness on the back of his thigh. He kisses Cassie again, squeezes Jon's hand; he extricates himself from the tangle of arms and legs and goes to the bathroom. He brings back a couple of washcloths. He cleans Cassie gently, then Jon, before wiping himself off. He tosses them in the sink, and when he comes back to the bedroom, Jon and Cassie are curled around each other.

Spencer stands there and just looks, imprinting the image on his memory. He wonders if he maybe should go. He also wonders where his clothes are, and how he'll get back to the hotel.

"Are you coming back to bed?" Jon's voice is sleepy.

"Don't you want to be alone?"

Cassie yawns, then murmurs, "No, we want you to stay."


ETA: Morning Coffee is a morning-after scene. Mmm, more Jon/Cassie/Spencer.

Also, the Epic continues with The Life of The Slumber Party and Boyfriends and Babies.

Part VII