FILM NOIR [CHRIS MOTIONLESS] [✔️]

seven; synthetic love

seven; synthetic love

chokehold {adam lambert}

"...all without your touch i suffocate, i could asphxiate, but i kind of like the pain, baby, i can smell you on my clothes, i try to stay composed, but i feel the fever grow..."

~~~

Chris woke slowly, but his eyes snapped open when he registered that he was holding Spencer to his chest, her forehead pressed to his collarbone. Her hair was an absolute fucking mess, of course it was, that was his fault, but in the weak light she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

His thoughts returned to the night before, to the absolutely sinful things they'd done to each other, the sounds that she'd made. He'd breathed her in like cigarette smoke, every inch of her familiar to him now.

She slept soundly, which wasn't surprising; he'd worn her out. What did surprise him was that she didn't show any signs of a bad dream. Just silence and soft breaths, clinging to him tightly like a security blanket.

He gently rubbed circles into her spine with his thumb, his chin resting on the top of her head. He hated the ache in his gut when he thought of having to leave her, what with the tour resuming in three short days. Holding her a little closer, he closed his eyes and breathed in her smell.

They both woke again a few hours later, Spencer stirring for the first time in nearly 8 hours. She sat up with a grimace, casting a playful scowl at Chris.

"Ah, fuck," She groaned, "I'm not gonna be able to walk."

"Whoops." He smirked, hands behind his head.

She grabbed her underwear off of the floor, slipping into it and throwing one of Chris's dress shirts on over it (it'd been lying on the floor too). He smiled darkly, absolutely loving how his clothes looked on her.

She visibly limped to the bathroom, Chris laughing as she flipped him off. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. He had to tell her that he was leaving at some point, but he didn't want to see her sad.

He sighed, not hearing the bathroom door open. He only realized that Spencer was there when he felt her arms go around his shoulders, nuzzling her face into his back. "You okay?" She asked softly, and he turned to face her.

"I'm just thinking," He said, "I'm thinking about the fucking tour that resumes in  three days, and I'm thinking about how much I don't want to leave you here."

Spencer let out a heavy sigh, gently placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned into it, her eyes capturing his attention.

"I'll wait for you." She said, and Chris raised his eyebrows. "Really?'

"Yes. I don't even know what this is, but I'm willing to wait if we want to turn it into something...more."

Chris pulled her into his lap, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Okay."

They stayed in bed all day, Spencer curled into Chris's side as Tim Burton movies played on the TV.

"Do it for the gram!" Spencer smiled, Snapchat open on her phone. Chris pressed his lips to her temple, holding her to his side. The picture was cute, despite neither of them looking remotely ready for the day. Spencer posted it on Instagram, tagging Chris.

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spencerbettleyart 🖤

"They want to know if we're dating." Spencer mumbled, comments upon comments asking the same questions over and over. Chris let out a wry laugh. "This always happens. Hasn't happened in awhile though, obviously."

"I'm just gonna ignore it." She said, locking her phone. "In fact, I'm gonna ignore everything right now except you."

She reached up to kiss him, and Chris laughed devilishly, knowing exactly what she meant by that. "Now you're speaking my language."

A half hour later, Spencer fell next to him, gasping. "Okay, now I'm really not gonna be able to walk."

"Hey," Chris shrugged. "You asked for it."

"Fuckin' right I did." She laughed breathlessly. "Making those three days count."

Chris pulled her to his chest, smiling into her hair. "Don't even talk about that right now. Just...be here with me."

"Gladly." Spencer replied.