I Wish You Could See It From Over There, Ryan/girl!Spencer, NC-17
Title: I Wish You Could See It From Over There
Authors: fallintosilence and boweryd
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryan/girl!Spencer
Word Count: 5,600+
Summary: "Were you just touching yourself?" Ryan says, his voice kind of rough. She doesn't know if she wants to die or if she wants to kill him, but clearly the only answer is that one of them doesn't make it out of this room alive. "Like, seriously?" he adds, waggling his eyebrows in a totally unnecessary way. And, well, that answers that.
Warnings: Both characters are under the age of 18, but everyone's legal.
Author Notes: Written for the kink bingo prompt "exhibitionism." Thanks to fictionalaspect for the beta, even if she's still grudgy that we wouldn't title this fic, "Spencer's Vagina: A Love Story." The actual title is from the song "My Slumbering Heart" by Rilo Kiley.
It's not like Spencer gets a ton of chances to do this, is the thing. She was up late writing a paper and everyone else is asleep. Her hair is still damp from her shower and she's all clean and kind of sleepy, and she kicked ass on that paper, okay? It's just a reward, is all. Way easier than trying to sneak downstairs for ice cream.
Spencer slides under the covers and closes her eyes, thinks about nothing at all at first until she hones in on this one video she likes, a guy spreading a girl open and just licking and licking until she comes. Spencer's just teasing with her fingers a little, is just starting to feel the heat pool in her belly as her legs fall open wider, when she feels a gust of air across her belly where her t-shirt has ridden up.
It almost feels good at first, the cool air on her flushed skin, but Spencer eventually starts to shiver and opens her eyes slowly, annoyed in general at her room for distracting her. She was just getting to the good part, too - her fingers had just found that one spot, right next to her clit, where it always feels so good to rub.
She turns her head toward the window, debating on if she should get up and close it, and that's when she sees Ryan standing in front of her bed, just off to the side. He's standing totally still and holding his limbs awkwardly like he'd actually froze halfway through a moment, and it takes Spencer a second to process what she's seeing before she yelps, jerking her hand out of her pants.
She opens her mouth but can't actually seem to get any sound out, staring at Ryan, who's staring right back, his eyes wide. Her face feels way, way too hot and she knows she must be blushing like crazy and Ryan is just standing there, like a great big creepy creep, hardly even looking sheepish about the whole stupid mess.
Spencer swallows hard and closes her eyes for a second, and when she finally manages to speak, she ends up hissing, "What the fuck, Ryan." She doesn't even know if he saw, if he could tell what she was doing, but he's still just staring at her, so, yeah. Probably.
"Were you just touching yourself?" Ryan says, his voice kind of rough. She doesn't know if she wants to die or if she wants to kill him, but clearly the only answer is that one of them doesn't make it out of this room alive. "Like, seriously?" he adds, waggling his eyebrows in a totally unnecessary way. And, well, that answers that.
"Oh my god, get the fuck out of my room," Spencer says, her voice squeaking embarrassingly as she sits up against the pillows as an excuse to close her legs. She's still so wet that she feels awkward and squirmy with it, and she's going to have to wash the damn sheets now that she's touched them with her fingers. But mostly she just wants Ryan to leave so she can finish because her cunt is buzzing in a rather pleasant, insistent way.
"Do I have to?" Ryan asks, and Spencer feels her jaw drop open.
"Yes, you have to, Ryan, what the fuck?" she says, pulling the covers up over her chest for no discernible reason. It's late and Spencer's tired and she just wants to get off, not deal with Ryan and the embarrassment of getting caught.
"It's really cold outside, Spence," Ryan says, and he sounds more than a little pathetic and he is only wearing a t-shirt and basketball shorts and she hates how easily she crumbles. She sighs heavily, and can't even push him off the bed with her toes when he sits down because she's terrified of moving. Like somehow that could make it worse, even though she's totally been caught.
"Maybe I should just--" she trails off awkward, not really sure how to verbalize, 'Go to the bathroom and clean up, you great big interrupting interrupter.'
"Maybe you should finish," Ryan says, his voice carefully even like he's suggesting Spencer pass him the salt. Spencer jerks her head up to look at his face, where his expression is almost painfully unreadable. "I mean, don't stop just because I'm here."
"You're a pervert and I hate you," Spencer groans, grabbing a pillow to throw at Ryan's head. He dodges it and Spencer hates him just a little bit more. "I'm not-- what the hell, Ryan, I'm not doing that. No."
"What?" he asks. "I know you don't want to stop."
"Ryan," she says evenly, "what the actual fuck is wrong with you?"
Ryan grins at her, just fucking grins like he didn't just suggest she get off in front of him, and it distracts Spencer enough that she totally misses when he makes a grab for her ankle, where her feet are poking out from the covers, wrapping his fingers around to the arch of her foot where he knows she's ticklish.
"Oh you asshole," she hisses, trying to choke back giggles. "Ryan, Ryan, stop, shit, we're going to wake my sisters up."
Ryan stops tickling her, but he keeps his fingers wrapped around her ankle, petting over the bone. "Seriously," he says. "You've seen me, remember?"
And, yes. Spencer remembers. Quite clearly, actually, but that is not the fucking point. She can feel herself blushing again, and she snaps, "That's because you're a freak of nature who doesn't stop jacking off when someone walks in on you."
"I didn't stop because it fucking feels good," he says, like it makes perfect sense. "I don't know why you stopped."
"Because I'm not a freak of nature?" Spencer offers, trying not to get distracted by Ryan's cool fingers on her skin. It feels good, the careful touches, but Spencer knows this trick. She's used it on the back of Ryan's neck dozens of nights when he crawled into her bed, unable to sleep. She has a feeling Ryan's motives are less pure this time.
"Speeence." Ryan drags out her name in a whine and Spencer wants to hit him again, but she also doesn't want to lose her other pillow. "Spence, I know you still want to."
"No, you don't. Go away." Spencer jerks her ankle back again when he brushes his fingers over it, watching the way his eyes linger on her legs before he looks up at her.
"Yes, I do, doofus." Spencer has to bite her lip to keep from smiling at the nickname. "You keep squeezing your legs together. I promise I won't be an ass." Ryan looks up at her with big, sincere eyes and Spencer can feel the heat creeping into her face again at the way Ryan stares at her. She knows this trick. She's used this trick, no way can she fall for it now.
Spencer pushes her hair out of her face, squeezing her legs together again and then groaning when she catches herself doing it.
"You're always an ass."
"Please?" Ryan tries, and Spencer has to glance down at the sheets quickly before she meets Ryan's eyes again.
"I'm not taking my clothes off."
"Okay," Ryan says, fingers tracing light circles over the inside of her ankle. "I just want to see you, you know. Finish."
"Creepiest pervert ever," Spencer mumbles, but already just thinking about reaching down between her legs again has her throbbing, still sticky and wet between her thighs.
"Well," Ryan says, skimming his fingers over the arch of her foot, making her twitch.
"Chill out, asshole," Spencer snaps. "I'll start when I want to start."
"Performance anxiety?" Ryan says. "Sucks." He's sitting there, being stupid, staring right at her, and Spencer seriously does not know if she can do this.
"God, I hate you," Spencer groans, but her cunt is still throbbing and Ryan's still stroking up and down her ankle, and she shoves the pillow back under her head and tilts her head back, closing her eyes. There's no way she's going to be able to do this with Ryan just looking at her like that.
Spencer swallows once and very carefully does not think about Ryan sitting there, watching as she slides her hand down her belly and into her pants. It's not that big of a deal, right? It's not like she's naked, it's not like he can see. Spencer can't help thinking that he still knows, though, knows exactly what she's doing. She can feel herself flush just thinking about it, Ryan watching her, knowing how she gets herself off.
Spencer exhales shakily as her fingers sneak down between her legs, where she's still wet and throbbing, her fingers slipping easily over her clit. It takes her a moment to get over the fact that her underwear is long ruined, and then she finds that spot, right next to her clit, rubbing slow circles as her stomach flutters and tightens again. She feels too hot and too exposed, even like this, but she isn't terrified when she opens her eyes to meet Ryan's heavy gaze.
Her fingers pause long enough for Ryan to quickly glance down to her hand and back up to her face again. Spencer closes her eyes, thinks about what he's seeing, how she must look with her hand between her legs like this. She keeps flexing her hand, trying to reach, wanting something inside, but she can't quite get there. Her pajama pants are too tight, stretched taunt over her knuckles and keeping her hand trapped. She shifts and blushes when she whines without meaning to, her face flushing even redder when Ryan's fingers tighten around her ankle at the noise.
"What's wrong?" Ryan asks, and his voice sounds weird, deeper than usual, strained.
"Nothing," Spencer grits out, trying to keep her voice even.
"Liar," Ryan answers. "Your forehead's all wrinkled. You're mad about something."
Fucking Ryan, oh my god. "Shut up," she says decisively. "I mean it. I'm going to take my pants off now and you're going to shut up and not say one word to me, ever. Understood?"
"If I answer, does that count as saying something?" Ryan asks, and he sounds genuinely confused, is the thing, and Spencer hates him.
"Stop talking. No more words," she says, tilting her hips up and sliding her pants down as quickly as she can, avoiding Ryan's eyes. Spencer feels stupidly exposed, even though this isn't really much worse than anything Ryan's seen before, but before she was changing, or they were at the pool, or she was doing anything that involved pantlessness that was not getting off, oh my god.
Ryan shocks her out of her own head by sliding his hands up her legs, yanking the pajama pants all the way off. "There," he says, and he sounds all accomplished.
"A pox on your house, Ross, oh my god," she groans.
"That's not actually the quote, you know," he says casually, his hand sliding up and down from her knee to her ankle.
"Do not correct me while I'm not wearing pants," Spencer says, trying not to shiver. His fingers tickle. "That's a new rule."
"Noted," he says, pressing in behind her knee until she gasps and her legs jerk open. She really should have stopped this whole touching thing as soon as it got started because now he's using it for evil, but it's making her skin buzz, making her thighs tremble a little.
Ryan smiles at her, almost shy, and sort of folds himself up at the end of her bed, which is already pretty tiny, his fingers briefly letting go of her ankles when she lets her legs fall open. Spencer's still blushing, she knows she is, but Ryan is giving her this look like he's trying so hard to be as uncreepy as possible and it's really endearing, and maybe kind of flattering, and Spencer needs to stop fucking thinking about this already or she is never going to go through with this.
She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she slides her hand back down into her underwear, rubbing slowly over her clit. She's still wet, but she pulls her hand back out quickly to lick at her fingers, more out of habit than anything. Ryan makes a strangled noise, and he sounds so much like he's choking that Spencer's eyes fly open and then she's just stuck there, staring at Ryan with her legs spread open and her hand halfway inside of her underwear.
"What? What? Are you okay?"
"Spence," Ryan says, touching Spencer's ankle lightly again, and his fingers feel sort of shaky, almost as shaky as her own thighs, and oh. Right. Okay, then.
Spencer's hand moves mostly of its own accord, fingers pressing down hard on her clit in a way that makes her hips twitch up. She feels randomly self-conscious about it but she's always liked to go hard on herself, to rub rough and fast until she comes.
Ryan's hand drops away and he shifts forward, just a bit, fisting his hands in the blankets where they're bunched around Spencer's feet. "Yeah," Ryan says, his voice low and kind of breathy, like maybe he didn't mean to say anything at all.
Spencer's torn between wanting Ryan to shut up forever and to never stop, the hitch in his voice making her stomach feel hot and tingly, making her cheeks flush red. She can't seem to stop her stupid traitor brain from thinking about it, about how Ryan is right there, watching her hand moving obscurely underneath her clothing.
Spencer moves her fingers frantically, rubbing circles all around her clit, sliding quick and slippery across her cunt, and her toes are curling, digging into the blankets, brushing Ryan's knee. She kind of misses Ryan's hands on her, holding her feet down, and before she can stop herself she's just talking, saying, "Hey, um. You can touch, if you want. I mean, my feet. Like before. Is what you can touch."
Spencer's pretty sure her face is about to burst into flames, and if the fire doesn't take them out she's going to have to kill herself and Ryan, is the thing. Murder suicide. It's the only way.
Ryan is mercifully quiet when he brushes his fingers over the top of Spencer's foot on his way to wrap his fingers around her ankle. It's seriously stupid how good it feels when it's just her ankle, little tingles that shoot up her leg and right to her clit, but it feels good to have Ryan touching her. It's starting to feel good to have Ryan watching her.
It's still a little awkward; Spencer knows that her underwear aren't overly sexy, just white and cut high enough that she knows her fingers are sticking out on either side when she spreads them open to push two inside and press her thumb to her clit to rub lightly. The noise Ryan makes, though, high and surprised like he's choked on his own breath, it makes the heat in Spencer's stomach flare, makes her speed her thumb up as it rubs hard circles right over her clit.
She can't seem to keep her eyes open anymore, but it doesn't matter, she can feel the way he's staring at her, hear the cut-off breaths he's letting out, and there is no way he doesn't know what she's doing that right now, no way he can't tell that she's fingering herself.
"Spencer," Ryan says, voice hushed, and Spencer can't bring herself to stop moving her fingers or her thumb, not when it feels this good. Ryan repeats her name and Spencer's breath hitches, her toes curling in and digging into his arm as he keeps his fingers circled around her ankle.
"Do you have any idea how hot you look?" Ryan says after a second, and Spencer's hips twitch up with her hand, her thumb pressing down hard and sliding over her clit.
"Oh god, this is so unfair," Spencer whines, angling her fingers so they'll sink in deeper as she fucks herself faster, wiggling them inside and feeling the way she clenches down hard around them. She can hear the fucking wet noises that her fingers are making, so loud and obscene in the quiet of her room, but Ryan just keeps talking.
"No, I. I mean it. Like, fuck, Spence, if you could see. Your face, and the way your hips keep moving, and--"
"Shut up, I hate you, oh my god," Spencer gasps out, but she can't stop now, it feels too good to clench down around her fingers. Ryan just keeps talking, though, stupid nonsense commentary that only eggs her on, makes her stomach draw up tight and gives her the push she needs to spread her legs a bit wider, twist her fingers in deep and push up until she gasps out and lets her hips raise up off the bed.
"Spencer," Ryan says, his voice low and hot. "Spencer, fuck, you look--"
She wants to cringe, because she can only imagine how she looks. Her legs are spread as far as they'll go while she's arching up off the bed like this, and she can feel cool air ghosting over her cunt where her underwear are stretched out and soaked. She knows Ryan must be able to see something, fuck, he can probably see everything, but she can't stop now, she's too close. Ryan's fingers tighten around her ankle, and he's breathing so loudly she can hear it, just his breath and her breath and the stupid wet noises her fingers are making.
Spencer would be embarrassed, really, she would, but she's so close, and clearly the impending orgasm is taking away her ability to reason, because for some reason knowing that Ryan's watching, that he's listening, only makes it better. She wants him to hear, she thinks frantically, pressing her fingers up and rubbing fast at her clit. She wants him to see, and--
"Spencer," Ryan says. "Spence, hey, hey, hold on."
"Hold on?" Spencer hisses, letting her hips drop down to the bed. "Hold on, Ryan I was about to-- I'm going to murder you."
"That's cool, maybe later," Ryan says. "You should take your underwear off."
"Sure," Spencer says, her fingers starting up again, but then her brain catches up and actually processes Ryan's words, and she freezes. "Ryan, the fuck? No!"
Ryan squeezes her ankle, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, and god, he probably doesn't even realize how much just him watching is doing for Spencer. "Why not? It'll be easier that way."
"That's-- that's not the point, jackass, I'm not getting naked in front of you--"
"Not all the way naked. When you walked in on me--"
"We already established that you're a huge pervert and that doesn't count," Spencer groans, but the more she thinks about sliding her underwear down and spreading her legs, letting her fingers sink in deep, the more appealing it sounds.
"I've pretty much already seen--"
"Not helping your case," Spencer snaps, interrupting Ryan before he can choose any colorful descriptive adjectives. Ryan's just looking at her, like he does when he really, really wants the last pudding cup or slice of pizza and oh god she's comparing her vagina to food and she's never going to live this down, not ever. Spencer tries to squeeze her legs shut, but Ryan's still got a hold of her ankle so she settles for throwing her arm over her face instead.
"You keep pressing up," Ryan says after a moment, and his voice is different this time, lower, less pleading. "And spreading your fingers like you can't move them enough."
"Oh, right, so this is for my benefit then?" Spencer says into the crook of her elbow.
"And also I want to see you half naked," Ryan says, poking at the arch of her foot. It works - she laughs and kicks out at him, and then she moves her arms down and hitches her thumbs in the sides of her underwear before she can think herself out of it.
"Oh," Ryan says, his fingers stilling where they'd been tickling at her foot.
"Don't talk," Spencer says, trying to wiggle free of her underwear without spreading her legs any more than they're already spread.
"Not talking," Ryan says, reaching up and pulling her underwear the rest of the way down her thighs and over her knees. Spencer slides one foot out, but Ryan's not letting go of her ankle, and the underwear just sort of get trapped there, balled up between Ryan's hand and her ankle and she can feel them pressing wetly against her skin, which means Ryan can feel the same thing and--
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Spencer says, her hand tapping nervously on her thigh.
"Remember when I had my dick out?" Ryan says, and he sounds stupid, stupid and choked up and really, really hot and she can feel his eyes on her now, like it's an actual touch sweeping over her body. "Don't stop."
"Right," Spencer says, squeezing her eyes shut. It doesn't really help. She can feel the cool air on her hot skin, chilling her cunt and the insides of her thighs where she's wet, and she can hear Ryan breathing, hear her heart beating. She takes a shaky breath and slides her hand back down between her legs.
It feels different like this, even though it's really not that different, not that much of a bigger deal. It's not even that Ryan's never seen things, they practically live on top of each other and she's caught glances of her own, but never like this. She's never been spread open and naked in front of Ryan, and the thought makes her whine embarrassingly as she slides her fingers back in.
And Ryan was right, it is better, she can get her fingers deeper, press in and rub where she likes it, can arch her hips up and press her swollen clit against the heel of her hand. She drags her fingers out so she can slide a third one in and moans appreciatively at the fullness of it, smiling to herself a little smugly at Ryan's sharp intake of breath. She feels stupid and hot, his heavy gaze making her flush, making her feel like she's even more exposed than she is, but she only hesitates for a second before spreading her legs wide apart again. She braces her feet on the mattress and lifts her hips to rock up with the short, hard thrusts of her fingers, her thumb reaching up to brush over her clit, panting too loudly in the quiet dark of the room. She can feel how wet she is, her hand soaked with it now, her fingers making wet noises the faster she moves them. Spencer feels stretched out, open, like she's on display, and she can only imagine what it looks like to Ryan.
Ryan trails shaky fingers over her ankle, back and forth almost in time with the thrust of her fingers, and Spencer whines, her entire body straining, her hand moving frantically as she pushes her fingers deep inside. She doesn't even care anymore, it doesn't matter how she stupid she looks or how ridiculous she sounds or how intently Ryan's staring, she's so close. Ryan squeezes down on her ankle, starts babbling about how hot she looks again and she only hears half of it, her heartbeat loud in her ears, but she does catch, "Come on, Spence, c'mon," and apparently that's all it takes.
Spencer presses her fingers up hard, harder than she normally would, and suddenly everything is tensing up and then crashing as Spencer comes hard, gasping, her hips arched up off the bed. She rides out the best part of her orgasm and then falls back on the bed, sliding her fingers out carefully to rest her hand on her thigh. She feels boneless, tingly, and she hates herself just a little bit for giggling when Ryan pets weakly at her ankle.
"Spencer," Ryan says, his voice high and tight. "Spencer, fuck, you just--" He's just kind of staring at her, still clutching her underwear and clinging to her ankle and his mouth is hanging open and she's about to start laughing, oh my god.
"Yes," she says, rolling her eyes and trying to quell the hysterical laughter she can feel bubbling up. Her breath is still coming in harsh pants and Ryan is squirming and pressing his forearm to his dick and staring at her. "Yes, I did, and you're ruining my afterglow, you perv, c'mere."
"Huh?" Ryan says stupidly. He's breathing hard and he's flushed and he's just pressing his hand to the front of his basketball shorts now, and Spencer's brain is telling her to rethink this, but Spencer also just came harder than she ever has before and she can see Ryan's dick straining at his shorts, so her brain can just shut right the fuck up.
"I said come here, unless you don't want me to jerk you off."
"Oh my god, yes," Ryan says, scrambling up to the head of the bed and blinking down at Spencer with wide eyes.
Spencer lets herself giggle a little, says, "Take your pants off, Ryan," and then ducks about 19 elbows that Ryan didn't have two seconds ago.
"If you brain me," she says very seriously, "you're jerking yourself off."
Ryan grins at her, goofy and wide, and then bucks up and almost yelps when she wraps her wet hand around him. "Fuck, Spencer!" he says.
"Be quiet," she says, staring at Ryan's dick as it slides through her fist. "If you wake my mom up you're fucked."
"Please do not talk about your mom right now," Ryan gasps out. "Please."
Spencer hums an agreeable noise because she can't stop looking, and she feels kind of bad for getting so annoyed at Ryan for the same thing. Ryan's hips keep bucking forward in sharp, uneven thrusts and he's making these gaspy noises with each breath and she can feel his dick throbbing in her hand. She doesn't know if it's supposed to feel like that, but it's kind of cool, and she's thinking about how awkward it would be to ask when Ryan lets out a harsh, strangled noise and leans down to kiss her.
It's an awkward angle. He's not doing much but pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth, breathing against the skin there, but then his dick jerks and he's coming, hot and wet over her hand. Spencer makes a shocked noise without really meaning to because hey, Ryan just came but also he just kissed her, and they haven't really done that, not for real. They're doing it kind of backwards, sure, but still.
"Oh my god, Spencer," Ryan says softly, his breath hot on Spencer's cheek, and Spencer smiles, feels Ryan's lips brush over the corner of her mouth before she lets go of his dick and makes a small, distressed noise.
"Eww," Spencer says to break the silence, looking up at Ryan's face and shifting underneath him to reach for the towel she'd dropped at the end of her bed after her shower. She can still feel the faint throbbing of her pulse between her legs, but she ignores it as she cleans her hand off and sits up, throwing the towel at Ryan's lap. Ryan doesn't look like he wants to move and Spencer has to hide her smile. Spencer feels flushed and weirdly proud, because she did that, she made him come. Ryan was probably pretty hair-trigger anyway, but whatever, it counts, and Spencer feels her ego swell at the thought.
"'Ew?' That's it?" Ryan tries to sound hurt but his voice is hoarse and slow, still orgasm-lazy. Spencer squeezes her thighs together empathetically. No way could she still be turned on right now, and yet.
"You came on me," she says, and then flinches because oh, hey, that's something she just said out loud.
"Yeah," Ryan says sleepily, settling back down and nuzzling his face into her shoulder. "It was awesome."
"Super awesome, totally, do you maybe want to pull your shorts up now?" Spencer asks all in a rush. She's trying to reach her pajama pants with her toes but Ryan is half on top of her and he's heavy, and she can feel his dick against her thigh, soft and sort of sticky.
"Not really," Ryan says, his breath sweeping over her neck and making her squirm.
"Are you-- Spencer, jesus, seriously?" Ryan asks, lifting his head up from her shoulder and looking at her in a way that does nothing to help the heat that's starting back up in her belly.
"No, shut up and pull your fucking shorts up, oh my god," Spencer says, and she takes the opportunity to turn on her side when Ryan shifts off of her, scrabbling for her pants and trying to pull them on as fast she can. She settles back down with her back to Ryan and squeezes her eyes shut and she wants to die, and she can feel Ryan moving around behind her, just hovering like a stupid hovering thing.
"I have your underwear?" he says eventually when she doesn't turn back over.
"What?" Spencer says, because what?
"What should I-- where do you want me to put them?"
"Somewhere that's not your hands, oh my god," Spencer hisses out.
"I'm just gonna--" Ryan says, shuffling around a little. "There. They're under the mattress," he says, like this is some grand accomplishment.
"I want to die," Spencer says, quietly, and then, louder, "Just-- go to sleep, okay? Let's just go to sleep." She suddenly feels really, really stupid and kind of like she wants to cry and that just makes her feel even more stupid.
"Okay," Ryan answers quietly, and he's still hovering, and Spencer wants to turn over and stick her face in his neck and hold on, so she scoots closer to the edge of the bed and clenches her hands up tight in the sheets.
She can feel Ryan behind her, too close, and after a minute he drops a hand to her shoulder, strokes up and down her arm clumsily a few times. "Night," he says, and Spencer feels a gust of breath puff through the hair at her temple, feels Ryan drop heavily down onto the mattress.
Ryan's farther away now but he still feels too close. She can feel the heat from his body under the sheets, can hear him breathing and it all feels like a stupidly big deal when it's nothing they haven't done before, and Spencer sniffles quietly to herself because she is clearly losing her mind and it's all Ryan's fault.
"Hey," Ryan says, touching at her shoulder. "Hey, turn over, this is stupid."
"You're stupid," Spencer grumbles thickly, but she turns anyway, sinks back down onto her pillow facing him. "Hi," she says, and she is very resolutely not looking at him.
"Hi," Ryan says, smoothing back the hair that's fallen in her eyes. "Can I?" He motions vaguely toward her face, and Spencer's about to ask what the fuck he's talking about when he ducks down and kisses her, a quick, dry press of lips.
"Oh," she says. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, that's-- we kind of just had sex, it would be pretty fucked up if I wouldn't let you kiss me."
"Well there's that movie, where Julia Roberts won't kiss on the lips but--"
"That's because she's a hooker, dickwad, please re-think what you're about to say," Spencer says with a sigh. He's such a jackass, he's always such a jackass, and she feels a million times better all at once when he rolls his eyes at her.
"Whatever," Ryan says, leaning back down to kiss her. It's better this time, the angle is an actual physical possibility and their lips line up and Ryan's touching her face, cupping the back of her head and petting at her hair. Ryan doesn't kiss the way Spencer thought he would; he's slow, thorough, and he's rubbing up and down her arm with his free hand, shifting closer bit by bit until their knees knock together under the covers.
His teeth catch on her lip by accident and Spencer makes an unintentional noise in the back of her throat, pushes closer, lets Ryan settle his hand at the small of her back and draw her in until their chests are pressed together and their toes tangle up.
"Your feet are cold," Spencer says when Ryan pulls back for air. "Your feet are always fucking cold."
"I know," Ryan says, leaning back in almost immediately. "Yours are warm though, it's awesome," he says into her mouth, and it feels weird, someone else's words rumbling over her lips. Spencer grins at the feeling, still kind of giddy and definitely tired, and laughs low and easy as Ryan shifts her closer.
"Are you-- this okay? You okay?" Ryan asks, and he's staring at her face in a way that's probably supposed to be comforting but is mostly a little creepy.
It's so familiar, so normal, and Spencer lets out a breath against his lips and nods, her nose bumping into Ryan's.
"Okay," Ryan says, kissing her again, lazy and soft. "Good. Because that was awesome."
"I'd be even more okay if you'd shut up for real, though," Spencer mutters back against his lips. "You're ruining the fucking moment again."
Authors: fallintosilence and boweryd
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryan/girl!Spencer
Word Count: 5,600+
Summary: "Were you just touching yourself?" Ryan says, his voice kind of rough. She doesn't know if she wants to die or if she wants to kill him, but clearly the only answer is that one of them doesn't make it out of this room alive. "Like, seriously?" he adds, waggling his eyebrows in a totally unnecessary way. And, well, that answers that.
Warnings: Both characters are under the age of 18, but everyone's legal.
Author Notes: Written for the kink bingo prompt "exhibitionism." Thanks to fictionalaspect for the beta, even if she's still grudgy that we wouldn't title this fic, "Spencer's Vagina: A Love Story." The actual title is from the song "My Slumbering Heart" by Rilo Kiley.
It's not like Spencer gets a ton of chances to do this, is the thing. She was up late writing a paper and everyone else is asleep. Her hair is still damp from her shower and she's all clean and kind of sleepy, and she kicked ass on that paper, okay? It's just a reward, is all. Way easier than trying to sneak downstairs for ice cream.
Spencer slides under the covers and closes her eyes, thinks about nothing at all at first until she hones in on this one video she likes, a guy spreading a girl open and just licking and licking until she comes. Spencer's just teasing with her fingers a little, is just starting to feel the heat pool in her belly as her legs fall open wider, when she feels a gust of air across her belly where her t-shirt has ridden up.
It almost feels good at first, the cool air on her flushed skin, but Spencer eventually starts to shiver and opens her eyes slowly, annoyed in general at her room for distracting her. She was just getting to the good part, too - her fingers had just found that one spot, right next to her clit, where it always feels so good to rub.
She turns her head toward the window, debating on if she should get up and close it, and that's when she sees Ryan standing in front of her bed, just off to the side. He's standing totally still and holding his limbs awkwardly like he'd actually froze halfway through a moment, and it takes Spencer a second to process what she's seeing before she yelps, jerking her hand out of her pants.
She opens her mouth but can't actually seem to get any sound out, staring at Ryan, who's staring right back, his eyes wide. Her face feels way, way too hot and she knows she must be blushing like crazy and Ryan is just standing there, like a great big creepy creep, hardly even looking sheepish about the whole stupid mess.
Spencer swallows hard and closes her eyes for a second, and when she finally manages to speak, she ends up hissing, "What the fuck, Ryan." She doesn't even know if he saw, if he could tell what she was doing, but he's still just staring at her, so, yeah. Probably.
"Were you just touching yourself?" Ryan says, his voice kind of rough. She doesn't know if she wants to die or if she wants to kill him, but clearly the only answer is that one of them doesn't make it out of this room alive. "Like, seriously?" he adds, waggling his eyebrows in a totally unnecessary way. And, well, that answers that.
"Oh my god, get the fuck out of my room," Spencer says, her voice squeaking embarrassingly as she sits up against the pillows as an excuse to close her legs. She's still so wet that she feels awkward and squirmy with it, and she's going to have to wash the damn sheets now that she's touched them with her fingers. But mostly she just wants Ryan to leave so she can finish because her cunt is buzzing in a rather pleasant, insistent way.
"Do I have to?" Ryan asks, and Spencer feels her jaw drop open.
"Yes, you have to, Ryan, what the fuck?" she says, pulling the covers up over her chest for no discernible reason. It's late and Spencer's tired and she just wants to get off, not deal with Ryan and the embarrassment of getting caught.
"It's really cold outside, Spence," Ryan says, and he sounds more than a little pathetic and he is only wearing a t-shirt and basketball shorts and she hates how easily she crumbles. She sighs heavily, and can't even push him off the bed with her toes when he sits down because she's terrified of moving. Like somehow that could make it worse, even though she's totally been caught.
"Maybe I should just--" she trails off awkward, not really sure how to verbalize, 'Go to the bathroom and clean up, you great big interrupting interrupter.'
"Maybe you should finish," Ryan says, his voice carefully even like he's suggesting Spencer pass him the salt. Spencer jerks her head up to look at his face, where his expression is almost painfully unreadable. "I mean, don't stop just because I'm here."
"You're a pervert and I hate you," Spencer groans, grabbing a pillow to throw at Ryan's head. He dodges it and Spencer hates him just a little bit more. "I'm not-- what the hell, Ryan, I'm not doing that. No."
"What?" he asks. "I know you don't want to stop."
"Ryan," she says evenly, "what the actual fuck is wrong with you?"
Ryan grins at her, just fucking grins like he didn't just suggest she get off in front of him, and it distracts Spencer enough that she totally misses when he makes a grab for her ankle, where her feet are poking out from the covers, wrapping his fingers around to the arch of her foot where he knows she's ticklish.
"Oh you asshole," she hisses, trying to choke back giggles. "Ryan, Ryan, stop, shit, we're going to wake my sisters up."
Ryan stops tickling her, but he keeps his fingers wrapped around her ankle, petting over the bone. "Seriously," he says. "You've seen me, remember?"
And, yes. Spencer remembers. Quite clearly, actually, but that is not the fucking point. She can feel herself blushing again, and she snaps, "That's because you're a freak of nature who doesn't stop jacking off when someone walks in on you."
"I didn't stop because it fucking feels good," he says, like it makes perfect sense. "I don't know why you stopped."
"Because I'm not a freak of nature?" Spencer offers, trying not to get distracted by Ryan's cool fingers on her skin. It feels good, the careful touches, but Spencer knows this trick. She's used it on the back of Ryan's neck dozens of nights when he crawled into her bed, unable to sleep. She has a feeling Ryan's motives are less pure this time.
"Speeence." Ryan drags out her name in a whine and Spencer wants to hit him again, but she also doesn't want to lose her other pillow. "Spence, I know you still want to."
"No, you don't. Go away." Spencer jerks her ankle back again when he brushes his fingers over it, watching the way his eyes linger on her legs before he looks up at her.
"Yes, I do, doofus." Spencer has to bite her lip to keep from smiling at the nickname. "You keep squeezing your legs together. I promise I won't be an ass." Ryan looks up at her with big, sincere eyes and Spencer can feel the heat creeping into her face again at the way Ryan stares at her. She knows this trick. She's used this trick, no way can she fall for it now.
Spencer pushes her hair out of her face, squeezing her legs together again and then groaning when she catches herself doing it.
"You're always an ass."
"Please?" Ryan tries, and Spencer has to glance down at the sheets quickly before she meets Ryan's eyes again.
"I'm not taking my clothes off."
"Okay," Ryan says, fingers tracing light circles over the inside of her ankle. "I just want to see you, you know. Finish."
"Creepiest pervert ever," Spencer mumbles, but already just thinking about reaching down between her legs again has her throbbing, still sticky and wet between her thighs.
"Well," Ryan says, skimming his fingers over the arch of her foot, making her twitch.
"Chill out, asshole," Spencer snaps. "I'll start when I want to start."
"Performance anxiety?" Ryan says. "Sucks." He's sitting there, being stupid, staring right at her, and Spencer seriously does not know if she can do this.
"God, I hate you," Spencer groans, but her cunt is still throbbing and Ryan's still stroking up and down her ankle, and she shoves the pillow back under her head and tilts her head back, closing her eyes. There's no way she's going to be able to do this with Ryan just looking at her like that.
Spencer swallows once and very carefully does not think about Ryan sitting there, watching as she slides her hand down her belly and into her pants. It's not that big of a deal, right? It's not like she's naked, it's not like he can see. Spencer can't help thinking that he still knows, though, knows exactly what she's doing. She can feel herself flush just thinking about it, Ryan watching her, knowing how she gets herself off.
Spencer exhales shakily as her fingers sneak down between her legs, where she's still wet and throbbing, her fingers slipping easily over her clit. It takes her a moment to get over the fact that her underwear is long ruined, and then she finds that spot, right next to her clit, rubbing slow circles as her stomach flutters and tightens again. She feels too hot and too exposed, even like this, but she isn't terrified when she opens her eyes to meet Ryan's heavy gaze.
Her fingers pause long enough for Ryan to quickly glance down to her hand and back up to her face again. Spencer closes her eyes, thinks about what he's seeing, how she must look with her hand between her legs like this. She keeps flexing her hand, trying to reach, wanting something inside, but she can't quite get there. Her pajama pants are too tight, stretched taunt over her knuckles and keeping her hand trapped. She shifts and blushes when she whines without meaning to, her face flushing even redder when Ryan's fingers tighten around her ankle at the noise.
"What's wrong?" Ryan asks, and his voice sounds weird, deeper than usual, strained.
"Nothing," Spencer grits out, trying to keep her voice even.
"Liar," Ryan answers. "Your forehead's all wrinkled. You're mad about something."
Fucking Ryan, oh my god. "Shut up," she says decisively. "I mean it. I'm going to take my pants off now and you're going to shut up and not say one word to me, ever. Understood?"
"If I answer, does that count as saying something?" Ryan asks, and he sounds genuinely confused, is the thing, and Spencer hates him.
"Stop talking. No more words," she says, tilting her hips up and sliding her pants down as quickly as she can, avoiding Ryan's eyes. Spencer feels stupidly exposed, even though this isn't really much worse than anything Ryan's seen before, but before she was changing, or they were at the pool, or she was doing anything that involved pantlessness that was not getting off, oh my god.
Ryan shocks her out of her own head by sliding his hands up her legs, yanking the pajama pants all the way off. "There," he says, and he sounds all accomplished.
"A pox on your house, Ross, oh my god," she groans.
"That's not actually the quote, you know," he says casually, his hand sliding up and down from her knee to her ankle.
"Do not correct me while I'm not wearing pants," Spencer says, trying not to shiver. His fingers tickle. "That's a new rule."
"Noted," he says, pressing in behind her knee until she gasps and her legs jerk open. She really should have stopped this whole touching thing as soon as it got started because now he's using it for evil, but it's making her skin buzz, making her thighs tremble a little.
Ryan smiles at her, almost shy, and sort of folds himself up at the end of her bed, which is already pretty tiny, his fingers briefly letting go of her ankles when she lets her legs fall open. Spencer's still blushing, she knows she is, but Ryan is giving her this look like he's trying so hard to be as uncreepy as possible and it's really endearing, and maybe kind of flattering, and Spencer needs to stop fucking thinking about this already or she is never going to go through with this.
She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she slides her hand back down into her underwear, rubbing slowly over her clit. She's still wet, but she pulls her hand back out quickly to lick at her fingers, more out of habit than anything. Ryan makes a strangled noise, and he sounds so much like he's choking that Spencer's eyes fly open and then she's just stuck there, staring at Ryan with her legs spread open and her hand halfway inside of her underwear.
"What? What? Are you okay?"
"Spence," Ryan says, touching Spencer's ankle lightly again, and his fingers feel sort of shaky, almost as shaky as her own thighs, and oh. Right. Okay, then.
Spencer's hand moves mostly of its own accord, fingers pressing down hard on her clit in a way that makes her hips twitch up. She feels randomly self-conscious about it but she's always liked to go hard on herself, to rub rough and fast until she comes.
Ryan's hand drops away and he shifts forward, just a bit, fisting his hands in the blankets where they're bunched around Spencer's feet. "Yeah," Ryan says, his voice low and kind of breathy, like maybe he didn't mean to say anything at all.
Spencer's torn between wanting Ryan to shut up forever and to never stop, the hitch in his voice making her stomach feel hot and tingly, making her cheeks flush red. She can't seem to stop her stupid traitor brain from thinking about it, about how Ryan is right there, watching her hand moving obscurely underneath her clothing.
Spencer moves her fingers frantically, rubbing circles all around her clit, sliding quick and slippery across her cunt, and her toes are curling, digging into the blankets, brushing Ryan's knee. She kind of misses Ryan's hands on her, holding her feet down, and before she can stop herself she's just talking, saying, "Hey, um. You can touch, if you want. I mean, my feet. Like before. Is what you can touch."
Spencer's pretty sure her face is about to burst into flames, and if the fire doesn't take them out she's going to have to kill herself and Ryan, is the thing. Murder suicide. It's the only way.
Ryan is mercifully quiet when he brushes his fingers over the top of Spencer's foot on his way to wrap his fingers around her ankle. It's seriously stupid how good it feels when it's just her ankle, little tingles that shoot up her leg and right to her clit, but it feels good to have Ryan touching her. It's starting to feel good to have Ryan watching her.
It's still a little awkward; Spencer knows that her underwear aren't overly sexy, just white and cut high enough that she knows her fingers are sticking out on either side when she spreads them open to push two inside and press her thumb to her clit to rub lightly. The noise Ryan makes, though, high and surprised like he's choked on his own breath, it makes the heat in Spencer's stomach flare, makes her speed her thumb up as it rubs hard circles right over her clit.
She can't seem to keep her eyes open anymore, but it doesn't matter, she can feel the way he's staring at her, hear the cut-off breaths he's letting out, and there is no way he doesn't know what she's doing that right now, no way he can't tell that she's fingering herself.
"Spencer," Ryan says, voice hushed, and Spencer can't bring herself to stop moving her fingers or her thumb, not when it feels this good. Ryan repeats her name and Spencer's breath hitches, her toes curling in and digging into his arm as he keeps his fingers circled around her ankle.
"Do you have any idea how hot you look?" Ryan says after a second, and Spencer's hips twitch up with her hand, her thumb pressing down hard and sliding over her clit.
"Oh god, this is so unfair," Spencer whines, angling her fingers so they'll sink in deeper as she fucks herself faster, wiggling them inside and feeling the way she clenches down hard around them. She can hear the fucking wet noises that her fingers are making, so loud and obscene in the quiet of her room, but Ryan just keeps talking.
"No, I. I mean it. Like, fuck, Spence, if you could see. Your face, and the way your hips keep moving, and--"
"Shut up, I hate you, oh my god," Spencer gasps out, but she can't stop now, it feels too good to clench down around her fingers. Ryan just keeps talking, though, stupid nonsense commentary that only eggs her on, makes her stomach draw up tight and gives her the push she needs to spread her legs a bit wider, twist her fingers in deep and push up until she gasps out and lets her hips raise up off the bed.
"Spencer," Ryan says, his voice low and hot. "Spencer, fuck, you look--"
She wants to cringe, because she can only imagine how she looks. Her legs are spread as far as they'll go while she's arching up off the bed like this, and she can feel cool air ghosting over her cunt where her underwear are stretched out and soaked. She knows Ryan must be able to see something, fuck, he can probably see everything, but she can't stop now, she's too close. Ryan's fingers tighten around her ankle, and he's breathing so loudly she can hear it, just his breath and her breath and the stupid wet noises her fingers are making.
Spencer would be embarrassed, really, she would, but she's so close, and clearly the impending orgasm is taking away her ability to reason, because for some reason knowing that Ryan's watching, that he's listening, only makes it better. She wants him to hear, she thinks frantically, pressing her fingers up and rubbing fast at her clit. She wants him to see, and--
"Spencer," Ryan says. "Spence, hey, hey, hold on."
"Hold on?" Spencer hisses, letting her hips drop down to the bed. "Hold on, Ryan I was about to-- I'm going to murder you."
"That's cool, maybe later," Ryan says. "You should take your underwear off."
"Sure," Spencer says, her fingers starting up again, but then her brain catches up and actually processes Ryan's words, and she freezes. "Ryan, the fuck? No!"
Ryan squeezes her ankle, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, and god, he probably doesn't even realize how much just him watching is doing for Spencer. "Why not? It'll be easier that way."
"That's-- that's not the point, jackass, I'm not getting naked in front of you--"
"Not all the way naked. When you walked in on me--"
"We already established that you're a huge pervert and that doesn't count," Spencer groans, but the more she thinks about sliding her underwear down and spreading her legs, letting her fingers sink in deep, the more appealing it sounds.
"I've pretty much already seen--"
"Not helping your case," Spencer snaps, interrupting Ryan before he can choose any colorful descriptive adjectives. Ryan's just looking at her, like he does when he really, really wants the last pudding cup or slice of pizza and oh god she's comparing her vagina to food and she's never going to live this down, not ever. Spencer tries to squeeze her legs shut, but Ryan's still got a hold of her ankle so she settles for throwing her arm over her face instead.
"You keep pressing up," Ryan says after a moment, and his voice is different this time, lower, less pleading. "And spreading your fingers like you can't move them enough."
"Oh, right, so this is for my benefit then?" Spencer says into the crook of her elbow.
"And also I want to see you half naked," Ryan says, poking at the arch of her foot. It works - she laughs and kicks out at him, and then she moves her arms down and hitches her thumbs in the sides of her underwear before she can think herself out of it.
"Oh," Ryan says, his fingers stilling where they'd been tickling at her foot.
"Don't talk," Spencer says, trying to wiggle free of her underwear without spreading her legs any more than they're already spread.
"Not talking," Ryan says, reaching up and pulling her underwear the rest of the way down her thighs and over her knees. Spencer slides one foot out, but Ryan's not letting go of her ankle, and the underwear just sort of get trapped there, balled up between Ryan's hand and her ankle and she can feel them pressing wetly against her skin, which means Ryan can feel the same thing and--
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Spencer says, her hand tapping nervously on her thigh.
"Remember when I had my dick out?" Ryan says, and he sounds stupid, stupid and choked up and really, really hot and she can feel his eyes on her now, like it's an actual touch sweeping over her body. "Don't stop."
"Right," Spencer says, squeezing her eyes shut. It doesn't really help. She can feel the cool air on her hot skin, chilling her cunt and the insides of her thighs where she's wet, and she can hear Ryan breathing, hear her heart beating. She takes a shaky breath and slides her hand back down between her legs.
It feels different like this, even though it's really not that different, not that much of a bigger deal. It's not even that Ryan's never seen things, they practically live on top of each other and she's caught glances of her own, but never like this. She's never been spread open and naked in front of Ryan, and the thought makes her whine embarrassingly as she slides her fingers back in.
And Ryan was right, it is better, she can get her fingers deeper, press in and rub where she likes it, can arch her hips up and press her swollen clit against the heel of her hand. She drags her fingers out so she can slide a third one in and moans appreciatively at the fullness of it, smiling to herself a little smugly at Ryan's sharp intake of breath. She feels stupid and hot, his heavy gaze making her flush, making her feel like she's even more exposed than she is, but she only hesitates for a second before spreading her legs wide apart again. She braces her feet on the mattress and lifts her hips to rock up with the short, hard thrusts of her fingers, her thumb reaching up to brush over her clit, panting too loudly in the quiet dark of the room. She can feel how wet she is, her hand soaked with it now, her fingers making wet noises the faster she moves them. Spencer feels stretched out, open, like she's on display, and she can only imagine what it looks like to Ryan.
Ryan trails shaky fingers over her ankle, back and forth almost in time with the thrust of her fingers, and Spencer whines, her entire body straining, her hand moving frantically as she pushes her fingers deep inside. She doesn't even care anymore, it doesn't matter how she stupid she looks or how ridiculous she sounds or how intently Ryan's staring, she's so close. Ryan squeezes down on her ankle, starts babbling about how hot she looks again and she only hears half of it, her heartbeat loud in her ears, but she does catch, "Come on, Spence, c'mon," and apparently that's all it takes.
Spencer presses her fingers up hard, harder than she normally would, and suddenly everything is tensing up and then crashing as Spencer comes hard, gasping, her hips arched up off the bed. She rides out the best part of her orgasm and then falls back on the bed, sliding her fingers out carefully to rest her hand on her thigh. She feels boneless, tingly, and she hates herself just a little bit for giggling when Ryan pets weakly at her ankle.
"Spencer," Ryan says, his voice high and tight. "Spencer, fuck, you just--" He's just kind of staring at her, still clutching her underwear and clinging to her ankle and his mouth is hanging open and she's about to start laughing, oh my god.
"Yes," she says, rolling her eyes and trying to quell the hysterical laughter she can feel bubbling up. Her breath is still coming in harsh pants and Ryan is squirming and pressing his forearm to his dick and staring at her. "Yes, I did, and you're ruining my afterglow, you perv, c'mere."
"Huh?" Ryan says stupidly. He's breathing hard and he's flushed and he's just pressing his hand to the front of his basketball shorts now, and Spencer's brain is telling her to rethink this, but Spencer also just came harder than she ever has before and she can see Ryan's dick straining at his shorts, so her brain can just shut right the fuck up.
"I said come here, unless you don't want me to jerk you off."
"Oh my god, yes," Ryan says, scrambling up to the head of the bed and blinking down at Spencer with wide eyes.
Spencer lets herself giggle a little, says, "Take your pants off, Ryan," and then ducks about 19 elbows that Ryan didn't have two seconds ago.
"If you brain me," she says very seriously, "you're jerking yourself off."
Ryan grins at her, goofy and wide, and then bucks up and almost yelps when she wraps her wet hand around him. "Fuck, Spencer!" he says.
"Be quiet," she says, staring at Ryan's dick as it slides through her fist. "If you wake my mom up you're fucked."
"Please do not talk about your mom right now," Ryan gasps out. "Please."
Spencer hums an agreeable noise because she can't stop looking, and she feels kind of bad for getting so annoyed at Ryan for the same thing. Ryan's hips keep bucking forward in sharp, uneven thrusts and he's making these gaspy noises with each breath and she can feel his dick throbbing in her hand. She doesn't know if it's supposed to feel like that, but it's kind of cool, and she's thinking about how awkward it would be to ask when Ryan lets out a harsh, strangled noise and leans down to kiss her.
It's an awkward angle. He's not doing much but pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth, breathing against the skin there, but then his dick jerks and he's coming, hot and wet over her hand. Spencer makes a shocked noise without really meaning to because hey, Ryan just came but also he just kissed her, and they haven't really done that, not for real. They're doing it kind of backwards, sure, but still.
"Oh my god, Spencer," Ryan says softly, his breath hot on Spencer's cheek, and Spencer smiles, feels Ryan's lips brush over the corner of her mouth before she lets go of his dick and makes a small, distressed noise.
"Eww," Spencer says to break the silence, looking up at Ryan's face and shifting underneath him to reach for the towel she'd dropped at the end of her bed after her shower. She can still feel the faint throbbing of her pulse between her legs, but she ignores it as she cleans her hand off and sits up, throwing the towel at Ryan's lap. Ryan doesn't look like he wants to move and Spencer has to hide her smile. Spencer feels flushed and weirdly proud, because she did that, she made him come. Ryan was probably pretty hair-trigger anyway, but whatever, it counts, and Spencer feels her ego swell at the thought.
"'Ew?' That's it?" Ryan tries to sound hurt but his voice is hoarse and slow, still orgasm-lazy. Spencer squeezes her thighs together empathetically. No way could she still be turned on right now, and yet.
"You came on me," she says, and then flinches because oh, hey, that's something she just said out loud.
"Yeah," Ryan says sleepily, settling back down and nuzzling his face into her shoulder. "It was awesome."
"Super awesome, totally, do you maybe want to pull your shorts up now?" Spencer asks all in a rush. She's trying to reach her pajama pants with her toes but Ryan is half on top of her and he's heavy, and she can feel his dick against her thigh, soft and sort of sticky.
"Not really," Ryan says, his breath sweeping over her neck and making her squirm.
"Are you-- Spencer, jesus, seriously?" Ryan asks, lifting his head up from her shoulder and looking at her in a way that does nothing to help the heat that's starting back up in her belly.
"No, shut up and pull your fucking shorts up, oh my god," Spencer says, and she takes the opportunity to turn on her side when Ryan shifts off of her, scrabbling for her pants and trying to pull them on as fast she can. She settles back down with her back to Ryan and squeezes her eyes shut and she wants to die, and she can feel Ryan moving around behind her, just hovering like a stupid hovering thing.
"I have your underwear?" he says eventually when she doesn't turn back over.
"What?" Spencer says, because what?
"What should I-- where do you want me to put them?"
"Somewhere that's not your hands, oh my god," Spencer hisses out.
"I'm just gonna--" Ryan says, shuffling around a little. "There. They're under the mattress," he says, like this is some grand accomplishment.
"I want to die," Spencer says, quietly, and then, louder, "Just-- go to sleep, okay? Let's just go to sleep." She suddenly feels really, really stupid and kind of like she wants to cry and that just makes her feel even more stupid.
"Okay," Ryan answers quietly, and he's still hovering, and Spencer wants to turn over and stick her face in his neck and hold on, so she scoots closer to the edge of the bed and clenches her hands up tight in the sheets.
She can feel Ryan behind her, too close, and after a minute he drops a hand to her shoulder, strokes up and down her arm clumsily a few times. "Night," he says, and Spencer feels a gust of breath puff through the hair at her temple, feels Ryan drop heavily down onto the mattress.
Ryan's farther away now but he still feels too close. She can feel the heat from his body under the sheets, can hear him breathing and it all feels like a stupidly big deal when it's nothing they haven't done before, and Spencer sniffles quietly to herself because she is clearly losing her mind and it's all Ryan's fault.
"Hey," Ryan says, touching at her shoulder. "Hey, turn over, this is stupid."
"You're stupid," Spencer grumbles thickly, but she turns anyway, sinks back down onto her pillow facing him. "Hi," she says, and she is very resolutely not looking at him.
"Hi," Ryan says, smoothing back the hair that's fallen in her eyes. "Can I?" He motions vaguely toward her face, and Spencer's about to ask what the fuck he's talking about when he ducks down and kisses her, a quick, dry press of lips.
"Oh," she says. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, that's-- we kind of just had sex, it would be pretty fucked up if I wouldn't let you kiss me."
"Well there's that movie, where Julia Roberts won't kiss on the lips but--"
"That's because she's a hooker, dickwad, please re-think what you're about to say," Spencer says with a sigh. He's such a jackass, he's always such a jackass, and she feels a million times better all at once when he rolls his eyes at her.
"Whatever," Ryan says, leaning back down to kiss her. It's better this time, the angle is an actual physical possibility and their lips line up and Ryan's touching her face, cupping the back of her head and petting at her hair. Ryan doesn't kiss the way Spencer thought he would; he's slow, thorough, and he's rubbing up and down her arm with his free hand, shifting closer bit by bit until their knees knock together under the covers.
His teeth catch on her lip by accident and Spencer makes an unintentional noise in the back of her throat, pushes closer, lets Ryan settle his hand at the small of her back and draw her in until their chests are pressed together and their toes tangle up.
"Your feet are cold," Spencer says when Ryan pulls back for air. "Your feet are always fucking cold."
"I know," Ryan says, leaning back in almost immediately. "Yours are warm though, it's awesome," he says into her mouth, and it feels weird, someone else's words rumbling over her lips. Spencer grins at the feeling, still kind of giddy and definitely tired, and laughs low and easy as Ryan shifts her closer.
"Are you-- this okay? You okay?" Ryan asks, and he's staring at her face in a way that's probably supposed to be comforting but is mostly a little creepy.
It's so familiar, so normal, and Spencer lets out a breath against his lips and nods, her nose bumping into Ryan's.
"Okay," Ryan says, kissing her again, lazy and soft. "Good. Because that was awesome."
"I'd be even more okay if you'd shut up for real, though," Spencer mutters back against his lips. "You're ruining the fucking moment again."