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When it comes right down to it, counting backwards from ten is about as effective as sticking his fingers in his ears (he'd tried it -- Brendon only pouted at him and then talked louder). Spencer thinks he should hunt down and then kill whoever it was that thought up the idea of the counting backwards thing. But then again, Spencer muses, the person who thought it up didn't know Brendon and therefore probably didn't know how stupid the technique actually was. Because Brendon's about as infuriating and annoying as anyone in the history of human existence has ever been. So annoying and infuriating that he has rendered a tried and true method completely useless.
"But Spencer, man, you have to try it," Brendon whined. And Spencer would be willing to bet just about anything that Brendon also whines more than anyone else in the history of human existence. "I mean, it's like... I don't even know what it's like, obviously. It's like really awesome, though. Trust me."
Spencer tried, once more, to count backwards from ten. This time he reached seven before Brendon broke his concentration. By kissing him.
"Told you," Brendon murmured as he pulled away, a soft smile threatening to become face-splitting. "Ryan said I was a great kisser, he said I'm, like, better than anyone else he's ever kissed. And I mean, that's no insult to you because I'm sure you're good, too, but--"
Spencer knew when to submit. So he did. And he pulled Brendon back in for another kiss. Just to shut him up.