gsf ftw
I have been working on this story for five months, I'm not even kidding. It is the longest story I've ever written. I hope you like it.
Title: That's What He Said
Author: Sara
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon/Spencer/Jon, mention of Ryan/Pete
Summary: Truckstops and Statelines and boyfriends, etc.
Beta: gigantic did a lovely beta job on this; CJ, thank you. Thanks also to deliberatehips and callsigns for reading bits and pieces along the way - the encouragement is always appreciated.
Note: This fic is completely finished. It's also over 24,000 words long, so! I'm posting it in parts. Next part in a few days. Hurray!
"Admit you're in love with me," Brendon demanded.
"I'm not, jesus," Ryan said, squirming out from under him, or trying to, or sort of halfheartedly making a passing attempt to look like he was. "Would you get off of me?" He sent a pleading look up at Spencer, who just rolled his eyes and poked Brendon's side, right where he was the most ticklish, and then Brendon giggled and twitched above him and Ryan pushed up, only Brendon didn't let go so his clever maneuver sent them both tumbling to the floor and, "Ow," Ryan said pitifully.
Spencer stretched back out on the couch and said, "Wrestle on the floor, you morons."
"Oh baby," Brendon said, pulling Ryan's hips closer and grinding a little, jesus, right as Ryan said, "I'm not in love with you, let me go."
"Then stop acting like a jealous little bitch," Brendon said against Ryan's lips, and Ryan pushed him away.
He was not acting like a jealous little bitch.
-
Well, not really.
He actually liked Jon Walker a lot; he was a nice normal guy and not in the way that Ryan liked to say he was normal, or the way that Brendon liked to lie and say he was normal, too. Jon just liked playing music and being on tour. He liked wearing flip-flops and hanging out and reading and eating at diners. He was a normal dude.
He was a normal dude, and for some reason he tolerated Brendon's attentions, even though Brendon's idea of showing interest in somebody seemed to consist of draping himself over them like an overly friendly pussycat. Jon seemed to think it was cute, or something, and let Brendon hold his hand and hang on his shoulders and snuggle up when they all watched DVDs on Academy's bus.
"Are you trying to turn him or something?" Ryan asked. "Is this like, recreational for you?"
"He works with William," Brendon said, waving him off. "He's gay by osmosis."
"You're not gay," Ryan pointed out, because seriously, Brendon liked girls, and he even slept with them sometimes now that his freakishness had translated itself into stage charisma. Now he was quirky, instead of just weird.
"I'm bi-curious," Brendon said, wide-eyed.
"Shut the fuck up," Ryan told him.
-
"Look," William said to Ryan, "I think Brendon's trying to fuck my guitar tech."
Trying was the operative word. Brendon had bitched for a good twenty minutes the night before about Jon ignoring all of his advances. Of course, Brendon's idea of "advances" seemed to involve feeling Jon up whenever he had the chance and possibly also just thinking about it really hard and hoping it would happen. Brendon was used to flat out rejection or girls falling into his lap, and the in-betweens of ordinary human interaction seemed to just confuse him.
"Your life is so hard," Spencer told him, prompting Brendon to climb onto Spencer's lap, shouting, "I'll show you hard, Smith," and Ryan had watched and hoped they would get naked or something, because it was Brendon, and Spence had been all prowly and slinky lately, and there was something stupidly hot about Brendon tickling Spencer until he giggled. Ryan willed himself not to get hard, but then Spencer was gasping and laughing on his back on the floor with Brendon sprawled over him, and mostly Ryan just wanted to be in the middle.
"Brendon is trying to fuck your guitar tech," Ryan told William.
"Oh shit, really?" William said, eyebrows raised. "Hey, Jon!" he yelled, and Jon ambled over, grinning a hello at Ryan. "Brendon's trying to get in your pants."
Jon looked startled. "No kidding? I thought he was just kinda weird."
"He is weird," Ryan said.
"Huh," Jon said.
William slapped Jon on the back and said, "Good luck with that."
-
Ryan tried brooding in his bunk, thinking about Brendon and Jon laughing and being happy together, but then he thought about them doing all those things naked and instead of being emo he was just sexually frustrated. Brendon came tromping down the hallway humming a Hilary Duff song and Ryan got on his stomach, trying to fake sleep, and a second later the curtain ruffled and Brendon peeked in.
"Did you tell Jon I had a crush on him?" Brendon demanded.
Technically, he hadn't used the word 'crush'. "No," Ryan said.
"Because William said you told him that I liked Jon and then he told Jon and now Jon knows," Brendon continued.
Ryan paused. "Yes," he said.
Brendon looked at him.
"Sorry," Ryan added.
"You know, if you want me to fuck you, you can just ask," Brendon said.
"Will you fuck me?" Ryan asked.
Brendon scowled. "Haha. Get off my back about Jon, okay? I like him. Deal with it." He let the curtain swing closed, and walked off.
"Haha," Ryan said weakly to his empty bunk.
-
Brent had gone missing again, like he seemed to be doing more and more lately, fucking off to wherever as soon as their bus stopped and then wandering back when they had to go on. They took turns finding him when he didn't answer his Sidekick, and this time Ryan had to do it, checking Academy's bus and then roaming the venue. He looked out back, just to be sure, but Brent wasn't there, he wasn't anywhere, and jesus, this needed to stop.
He heard giggling around the corner and when he rounded it he saw Brendon and Jon sitting on the grass, Jon grinning as he ruffled Brendon's hair, Brendon ducking his head and laughing. Ryan stared, caught in the unexpected vortex of adorable, as Brendon smiled at Jon and leaned into his space a little. Ryan felt a sick thrill low in his stomach, knowing he was witnessing something important; a moment later Jon was tilting his head to meet Brendon's lips, and it was sweet, Ryan thought dimly, a sweet first kiss between two nice guys and why, why, why wasn't it him.
Brendon was cupping Jon's face, kissing him deeper, and Ryan watched, kept watching, as they both pushed forward, each trying to move the other back but just ending up kissing harder.
Brendon grinned through the whole show after, and ended up staying the night on Academy's bus.
Ryan crawled into Spencer's bunk later, mumbling something about being cold. Spencer didn't ask questions.
-
"It's not like I'm in love with him or anything," Ryan murmured into Spencer's collarbone the next morning. "It's not like that. I mean, it's Brendon. He's like. A dork."
"Mm-hmm," Spencer said. He curled his fingers into the back of Ryan's t-shirt, and Ryan thought distantly that it might be nice to be shirtless with Spencer. Warmer. He snuggled closer, and Spencer's hand slid down his back, holding him there.
"It'd just be nice, you know," Ryan said. "To...have that."
"Nice," Spencer echoed.
There was a distant clatter of the bus door slamming shut and then a minute later the curtain of Spencer's bunk swung open and Brendon said, "Jon and I made out!" ecstatically, and then, "Whoa, hey, are you guys fucking?"
"Go away," Ryan said.
Brendon frowned, perturbed, then grinned again and bounded back out to the lounge, singing, "Everyone is gay and so am I!"
"That?" Spencer asked, after a minute.
"Maybe not that exactly," Ryan said.
-
"And then he touched my dick!" Brendon finished triumphantly.
"Please never, ever talk to me about your sex life again," Ryan said. It was going to be so awesome next time he saw Jon, about whom he now knew everything from his kissing style ("Really tender, like kissing a girl! Only with stubble, so not really like a girl, but nice! I liked it!") to his prior sexual experience ("I'm not the first guy he's kissed! I told you William makes everyone gay! He's even given a guy a blowjob! He wouldn't tell me who, though. I think it was someone on tour, I'm gonna ask around. Like as research.") to the possible size of his dick ("Like seven inches, I swear! I wanted to give him a handjob, because why not just go for it, right, I'm ready for it, I'm ready for dick, but then he got all skittish about other people being on the bus and I was like 'So what, man? Let me jerk you off!' and I think I almost convinced him but then Chad came by and was like 'I'm not listening to the gay sex in JWalk's bunk, please feel free to continue with the assfucking!' and I was like, 'Hey, assfucking,' but I think I sort of made Jon nervous because after that we just kissed a little more. Fucking Chad.").
"I can't wait to blow him," Brendon continued. "I think I'm gonna be good at it. I have the mouth for it, right?" Spencer came by and Brendon grinned at him. "Don't I have a cocksucking mouth?"
"Please let me die," Ryan said to Spencer.
"There there," Spencer said, patting Ryan on the shoulder. Ryan leaned his head into Spencer's hip and did not look at Brendon and his cocksucking mouth.
-
The worst part was that they were actually sort of darling. Jon smiled at Brendon in this really sweet way, and Brendon was always trying to grope him in public, but in a way that was less about Brendon being annoying and more about him finding Jon irresistible, and even when Brendon got all thrusty against Jon in the hallway Ryan couldn't bring himself to be too irritated, except that Jon was all he fucking talked about anymore.
"Brendon is such a pain in the ass," Ryan swore.
"Mmm," Spencer said, not looking up from his book.
Ryan flopped onto the couch next to Spencer, leaning his head on his lap. "He's always talking about Jon. Like, Jon is not the greatest person in the world, okay?"
"I think Jon's nice," Spencer said, turning a page.
"Kittens are nice," Ryan said. "Flowers. Rainbows. Those are nice things. Brendon is weird."
"Kittens are nice," Spencer said thoughtfully.
"It's annoying," Ryan continued, "it's like he never shuts up!"
"Really," Spencer said. "What's that like." Ryan looked up at him, and after a second Spencer rolled his eyes and petted Ryan's hair until Ryan looked down again, mollified. "He's just happy."
"He sucks," Ryan muttered, and Spencer snickered. Ryan rolled his eyes. "Shut up," he said, although in fact Brendon did suck ("I finally blew him last night, it was awesome, he was really slow and nice about it and I was like 'fuck my mouth, come on, I can take it!' but then I actually couldn't because Jon's kind of big, you know," and there Brendon made a hand gesture roughly indicating the approximate length and thickness and thank you but Ryan didn't really need to know that, "but I could take him pretty deep for my first try, even though I couldn't swallow it all, but next time I'm definitely going to, it was just more than I expected, you know?" Brendon had paused, waiting for Ryan, apparently, to chime in that of course he totally knew, but Ryan just let out a strangled, "Hysterical deafness, Brendon," and Brendon waved him aside and just kept talking), so it was, really, sort of funny.
-
It turned out there was actually one thing more annoying than Brendon in general, and that was Brendon in general when he was getting laid.
"Jesus christ," Ryan said when Brendon strolled onto the bus and graced him with a heavy-lidded grin. "Could you look a little less like you just got fucked?"
"Jealous?" Brendon asked, and Ryan assumed it was rhetorical, because god, obviously. Brendon wandered over to the couch, where Spencer was sprawled out as usual, and crawled on top of him, sliding a leg between Spencer's and resting comfortably on his chest. Spencer, who had been drowsing in front of the Food Network, just mumbled something and settled deeper into the cushions, petting the back of Brendon's hair. Ryan hated this fucking band.
-
"Hey, so," Jon said, and Ryan nodded hello. Jon had a hickey on his neck, a really blindingly obvious hickey like purple and black graffiti announcing 'Brendon was here 2006 xoxo' or something. "Um, I just wanted to make sure," Ryan thought about Brendon giving him that hickey, his lips moving over Jon's neck, sucking lightly, then harder, "you know, that everything was cool," Brendon's hand sliding into Jon's jeans, stroking him, how maybe Jon would put a hand on the back of Brendon's neck, encouraging, "what with me and Brendon and all that," and maybe Brendon would thrust against Jon's hip a little, needing the friction, "it's not like a big deal or anything, we're just hanging out," and Jon would moan, he had a pretty nice voice, he'd probably moan low, scratchy, "we're not gonna go all gay scandal or whatever, if you were worried about that," and Brendon would sink to his knees and look up at him, probably grinning that stupid hot grin that made Ryan want to either shoot himself in the head or roll over and beg for it, "so, we're cool, right? Because I like you, I want us to be friends," wow, hey, tight pants really weren't the fabulous idea he'd thought, "so, if you could say something, um, that'd be nice."
Ryan blinked at him. "Yeah, absolutely."
"Okay, great!" Jon grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. "I'll see you around!"
Spencer walked over and nudged him, watching Jon appraisingly as he left. "Hey, what was that about?"
"Jon has a hickey," Ryan said.
-
Brendon stopped bragging about his sex life, and it was almost worse. Girly, gossipy Brendon was a handful, but at least he wasn't like this new Brendon who prowled around all sated and pretty and talked to Ryan less because he was spending all his time banging Jon.
"All the blowjobs are fucking up your voice," Ryan said.
"You liar," Brendon said calmly. "Not getting laid is making you kind of mean."
"Actually getting laid for once is making you fucking annoying," Ryan snapped back, knowing he was being a total irrational bitch and yet unable to stop fucking talking. Jesus, not getting laid was making him kind of mean.
"I can take plenty, I have breath control," Brendon told him. "Not that it's any of your business, Ross."
"You're in my band," Ryan said. "Everything you do is my business." Why? Why did he even keep talking?
Brendon gave him a look, and then he was walking toward Ryan, crowding into his space, hips bumping his until Ryan's back hit the wall. "Look," Brendon said, low. "I don't know what your deal is. I don't know if you're stressed, bored, horny, whatever, but it's not my fault, okay?" Ryan closed his eyes, because jesus, this was pathetic, Brendon was inches away from him, bitching him out, and all Ryan could think was closer, please, closer. "Look at me," Brendon said, and Ryan shook his head, hoping Brendon wouldn't close the distance between them and find out how hard he was, almost as much as he hoped he would. "Look," Brendon said softly.
Brendon's fingers were on his jaw, tilting his face down a bit so their eyes met when Ryan opened his, and Brendon's eyes were deep, dark, intent, his mouth inches away. Ryan stared at him, helpless.
"If I've pissed you off or something, you need to tell me," Brendon said. "Did I do something? Seriously, just tell me."
He was so close, so fucking close that Ryan ached to touch him, felt his muscles tense with need, his fingers clench, and he couldn't help but lean into Brendon's touch a little, nuzzling into his hand. He wanted to pull Brendon to him, feel his lips pressing to his, lick at Brendon's lower lip until he opened up and god, fuck, he just wanted, wanted Brendon so badly it hurt.
Brendon blinked at him, startled, and then swept his thumb over Ryan's lower lip, a slow curious touch that made Ryan's breath come faster; Brendon frowned, said, "Hey, is it - you know I'm with Jon, I can't," but his hand was sliding back into Ryan's hair, thumb rubbing at the hinge of his jaw, moving forward without stopping-
Brendon kissed him.
Brendon kissed him, and Ryan felt himself go weak, wanted to lie down, lie down with Brendon on top of him, thrusting against him, wanted to wrap his legs around Brendon's waist and grind up until Brendon stripped him and fucked him.
"Oh god," Ryan gasped against Brendon's lips when they stopped to breathe, and Brendon echoed him a second later, blinking at him slowly and then pushing back, pushing away and, "No, please," Ryan said before he could stop himself, because they'd been so close, another second and Brendon would have been his, he could have had-
"I'm sorry," Brendon said, and when the dressing room door swung shut behind him, Ryan slid down the wall and stayed there.
-
Brendon kissed him, and they didn't mention it again.
Ryan didn't tell Spencer, he sure as fuck didn't tell Brent, and it wasn't like he could talk to Brendon about it, what with Brendon having been there, kissing him. They avoided each other as best they could what with playing shows every night, and Ryan spent the better part of a week hiding in his bunk, being miserable, until Spencer started giving him vaguely injured looks and Brent actually paid enough attention to say, "Dude, your emo is going to kill the band."
"My emo is the band," Ryan had snapped back, and then felt guilty, and then felt justified, and then felt lame because the band was also Brendon's voice and Spencer's drumming and Brent's having happened to grow up with them, Ryan thought uncharitably. He'd tried to sulk off and snuggle with Spencer after that, but Spencer and Brendon were involved in a particularly vicious game of two-player Ms. Pac-Man that culminated with Spencer's wild laughter and Fist of Triumph and Brendon promising to break his face. Ryan waited a while to see if they'd stop wrestling like twelve-year-olds, but it was Brendon and Spencer, and for some reason Brendon always seemed to take Spencer's seriousness as some sort of personal challenge. Brendon eventually started tickling him.
Ryan wanted to sigh and make Brendon give him Spencer back, but Spencer was giggling now, and Ryan hadn't been able to make Spencer giggle like that for years, ever since Spencer learned how and where to tickle him back. "Are you guys finished?" he said instead, once they'd slowed to just panting against each other, which Ryan was determinedly not recontextualizing.
"We are not," Brendon informed him, "Spencer's face is not yet broken, and I always keep my promises."
"No you don't," Ryan said, and it was almost normal, almost like they hadn't kissed, almost like things would be fine. "Can I have Spencer, please?"
"Hey," Spencer said, and Brendon said, "No, sorry, I like him. He's mine now. You'll have to find another one." Spencer struggled up from underneath him, pushing Brendon off.
Brendon scowled. "Are you guys going to go cuddle now? How come you never invite me?"
"You have a boyfriend," Spencer said. "It would be morally wrong. And the bunks aren't big enough."
Ryan almost said, "Mine," and stuck his tongue out at Brendon, but that would have been childish, so he just smirked instead. Brendon's stare dropped to his mouth, and Ryan had been doing fine, he'd gone a number of seconds without thinking about kissing Brendon, but now Brendon was looking at him and it wasn't fair, it wasn't right, Brendon couldn't just do this to him-
"You guys are totally gay, you know," Brendon said, crawling up to the couch and rolling over onto his stomach to sulk.
"Mm-hmm," Spencer said. "Cocksucker."
"I am a fantastic cocksucker!" Brendon shouted after them, and Ryan tugged Spencer's hand, leading him to his bunk.
He thought it'd be difficult to get out, but Spencer pulled him close, his hand sliding to Ryan's back to stroke at the base of his spine, and Ryan said, "We kissed." Spencer drew back a little, and Ryan clutched at the front of Spencer's shirt, murmuring, "Please, don't stop touching me."
"You and Brendon?" Spencer asked, his thumb dipping beneath the waist of Ryan's jeans, and Ryan tried not to squirm, but he could hardly help it, Spencer was so warm, touching him so softly and oh, god.
"Mm-hmm," Ryan managed, inching closer, not even inching, just pressing into Spencer as best he could without being obvious.
"How was it?" Spencer said, his lips against Ryan's forehead. His hand on Ryan's back got a bit more forceful, pulling Ryan against him, and Ryan was trying not to get hard, trying but then he felt Spencer thrust against him, just a little.
"Spence," Ryan gasped. "Fuck, please." Spencer slid a hand into his hair, tilting his face up until he was looking Spencer in the eye, close enough to share breath, and their lips were centimeters away, so close, so goddamn close.
"Did you like it?" Spencer asked. Ryan swallowed, forgetting the question, and Spencer leaned in, brushing their mouths together, soft and tentative for a second and then Ryan moaned, opening for him. Spencer murmured, "Fuck, Ry," all traces of coolness gone from his voice, and rolled them over, getting Ryan beneath him and kissing him hard.
When Ryan reached up to touch Spencer he realized he was trembling; it had been so long that he almost didn't know where to start, he wanted Spencer to keep kissing him, he wanted Spencer's lips on his throat, his stomach, Spencer's mouth on his cock, god. Spencer pressed against him, heavy and warm and perfect on top of him, and Ryan couldn't help but moan a little, needing to feel his skin, needing- "Fuck me," Ryan mumbled, helpless, "Spence, please, I need it, I need it so bad."
Spencer's hand slid down his side, thumbing the lower curve of his ribs before cupping his ass, fitting his leg between Ryan's so Ryan had to spread for him, arching up into the press of Spencer's body, hiking his leg up around Spencer's waist. Spencer worked at Ryan's fly with his other hand, and it took him a minute, struggling. Ryan reached down to help him, and when he touched Spencer's wrist he realized that Spencer was shaking too, his breath a hot shudder against Ryan's collarbone, and Ryan shifted under him, suddenly afraid Spencer was going to back out, and god, Ryan thought he would die if that happened now. He was so hard and Spencer's fingers were inching down his back, rubbing at the base of his spine before slipping lower, past the waistband of Ryan's jeans and stroking down.
Ryan squirmed, trying to push up into Spencer's touch, trying to get him closer, trying not to think at all, he just wanted this, he wanted Spencer-
"Okay, seriously, what the fuck are you guys doing back here- oh my GOD," Brendon said, and Ryan just caught his startled face before the curtain snapped back shut and Spencer sagged against him.
"Um," Spencer said. He carefully drew his hand out of the back of Ryan's pants, and then looked at him, his face bright red.
Ryan was never going to get fucked again in his life.
-
"Hey, have you seen Brendon?" Jon asked, and Ryan looked up from the couch where he'd been sitting in the hotel lobby, avoiding Brendon, Spencer, Brent, and every other person he knew in the world, although apparently not Jon, at least not with any measurable success. "Are you reading Teen Vogue?"
"No," Ryan said, "and no," he added, stuffing the magazine under his thigh with his thumb holding page thirty-eight in place.
"Oh," Jon said. "What are you doing down here?"
There were several levels of truth Ryan could cop to there and none of them seemed particularly appealing, but he sort of had to have a reason to be sitting in a hotel lobby while everyone else was getting ready to go out, or already out, or doing something that wasn't hiding under a pink newsboy cap reading girl magazines. Ryan sighed and flipped open Teen Vogue. "This eyeshadow thing, I think I might try it. It looks cool?"
"Huh," Jon said, sitting down next to Ryan; oh god, were they hanging out now? "Like on yourself?"
"Well, yeah," Ryan mumbled, "Not for- just, nevermind."
"Hey, it's cool, it'd look good on you." Jon smiled. Ryan smiled back, then realized he was smiling and stopped. "Seriously, what are you doing down here? Is everything okay? Are you going out with the others? I think they've mostly left."
"I was just gonna head upstairs, actually," Ryan said. "So."
Jon nodded.
"So, you could come hang out, if you want," Ryan finished, noticing the words as he said them as if they were from an overheard conversation. There they were.
"Sure," Jon said, after a pause. "We could get a movie or something."
"Yeah," Ryan said, having no idea what he was doing.
-
Maybe Jon could fuck me, Ryan thought to himself as they watched a regrettably bad Kate Hudson movie.
Jon laughed at a joke that hadn't been particularly funny. No wonder he got along so well with Brendon.
Of course, fucking Jon would probably get in the way of him figuring this thing out with Spencer.
Jon stretched his legs, smiling at Ryan and sliding a little further down the bed.
Still, Jon was pretty cute now that he didn't have Brendon wrapped around him like some sort of parasitic vine.
Ryan propped the pillow up under his head, settling onto his back and thinking about Jon shifting over a few feet and sliding on top of him. It might be nice, Jon holding him down. No, it would be. Ryan wanted to try it.
"What?" Jon asked, smiling like he wanted to be let in on the joke.
Ryan said, "Nothing."
-
It was innocent, really - the movie was lame, they'd been on the road all day, it was all warm and comfortable in there. Ryan was tired. He needed sleep, dammit, it wasn't his fault.
The light snapped on and, "What the fuck?" Brendon asked, and Ryan realized several things at once: he'd fallen asleep - with Jon - with Jon - Jon who was really, really nice and warm against his back - because they were snuggling, and if Ryan was pressed up close to him, well, Jon's arm was also around his waist - oh god, "Um," Ryan said, and Brendon repeated, "What the fuck?"
Jon nuzzled the back of Ryan's neck, mumbling sleepily, and geez, it was sort of adorable, no wonder Brendon liked him so much. Jon squeezed his waist and said, "Hey," and then, "Oh hey, Brendon," pulling back from Ryan.
Brendon's hands were at his hips, fully indignant, and Ryan wanted to laugh really, really badly, and he wasn't sure if it was because Brendon looked like a really pissed-off puppy dog, or because life was just funny, or because hysterical screaming seemed like an inferior plan. He didn't think Brendon would appreciate any of those explanations.
"We fell asleep," Jon said to Brendon, sitting up. "What time is it?"
"He - you," Brendon started, but he couldn't seem to find the words, and when Ryan looked back Jon was just blinking at him, his hair all mussed and flat on one side, sleepy-eyed, and Ryan stared for a moment, contemplating Jon Walker. When he turned back Brendon was deflated, the rage drained out of him; he just sighed and said, "Do you want to stay here tonight?"
"Sure!" Jon said happily, and rolled off of Ryan's bed, shucking his jeans and getting under the covers of the other bed. Ryan shut off the TV, studiously not watching as Brendon stripped down to his boxers and slid into bed with Jon, and Ryan could barely respond to Jon's, "Goodnight Ryan!"
The minutes ticked by in the dark, Jon and Brendon shuffling into place with each other, and Ryan didn't think about how Jon was actually a pretty good guy, or how Brendon was with him, and how good they seemed to be with each other; he didn't keep still to hear each movement, Jon's t-shirt hitting the ground, their soft goodnight kiss.
-
Jon ducked out early, or at least Ryan assumed he had, judging by the fact that Brendon was shaking his shoulder and saying, "Hey, hey, wake the fuck up." Usually Brendon was somewhat less of a jackass with Jon around to temper him. Ryan cracked one eye open. Brendon was leaning over him, backlit by thin streams of daylight coming through the motel curtains, and for a second Ryan let himself drift into thoughts of Brendon on top of him, looking into his eyes while fucking him hard, and then he glanced at the clock, saw that it was nine a.m. and they weren't on call 'til eleven, and his fantasies shifted to grabbing the clock and beating Brendon over the head with it.
"Why," Ryan asked, putting all the emotion he could into that word.
"Are you trying to sleep with everyone on this tour?" Brendon demanded and oh, wonderful, this was absolutely the conversation Ryan wanted to have at nine a.m., or like, ever.
"Don't be stupid," Ryan said, knowing it was a futile request, and rolled over so he wouldn't have to look at Brendon and his tufty hair and unseemly half nakedness and his stupid face.
Brendon paused, then climbed over Ryan and laid down on the bed next to him, pushing his way beneath the covers like a stupid pushy jerk, god, and then he stared at Ryan until Ryan sighed heavily. "I mean, Spencer, okay," Brendon said, "but if you could like, leave Jon out of it, I mean, I know how you are-"
"How I am?" Ryan snapped, and god, Brendon was wearing nothing but his boxers, and he was in bed with Ryan, and Ryan had really thought the two of them in bed together would go differently than this. "You kissed me," Ryan said, because what the fuck, where did Brendon even get off throwing accusations around?
"That was a mistake," Brendon said, "I didn't mean to."
"What, my lips just got in the way?" Ryan scoffed, and this was just impossibly fucking unfair, Brendon was right there in front of him, close enough to touch, so close and Ryan couldn't.
"Look," Brendon started, and then the doorknob rattled and a second later Jon pushed his way in with a small paper bag and a few bottles of juice. Ryan froze.
"Hey, what's going on?" Jon asked, sounding more curious than anything as the door swung shut behind him.
A second passed, and then Brendon said, "Ryan wouldn't talk to me."
"Oh." Jon seemed to consider that one for a moment, then shrugged and said, "I brought Danishes."
"Fuck yes," Brendon said, suddenly enthused. "Cherry?"
"Of course," Jon said, leaving everything on the table and walking over to nudge Brendon over. "Get up."
"You get down," Brendon insisted, and oh boy, now Ryan got to witness Adorable Boyfriend Theater firsthand, fucking joy. Jon smiled at Ryan apologetically and slid into bed next to Brendon, looping an arm around Brendon's waist. "I'm still tired."
"It's nine a.m.," Ryan pointed out, still deeply irked by that fact and rather sleepy, thank you.
"Did you talk to him?" Jon asked Ryan. Brendon was leaning back into Jon's embrace, his eyes slipping shut like he intended to go back to sleep, which Ryan thought sounded like an excellent opportunity to get some cheap snuggling out of the deal, even from stupid bony Brendon. Maybe he could convince Jon into the middle.
"Yes," Ryan said, shuffling a little closer to Brendon. So Jon could hear him, of course. Brendon looked to be already back asleep, just making an annoyed noise when Jon tried to reclaim his arm, and Jon sighed. Ryan quirked his lip up in a half-smile and scooted closer, just enough so that he could feel Brendon's warmth in the space around him.
"Good," Jon said, smiling, but it seemed like an effort for him to keep his head up, and a minute later he relaxed against Brendon's back, settling in.
Jon and Brendon were fast asleep and Ryan was dozing by the time Spencer came in through the connecting door, and by the time he reached the bed he seemed to have assessed the situation, realized there was no explanation that could really make that much sense, and then decided to accept that, because he just whispered to Ryan, "Hey, I couldn't get back to sleep."
There really, Ryan thought to himself, wasn't much he could do aside from scoot closer to Brendon and let Spencer slip into bed beside him, tucking himself against Ryan's back and kissing him hesitantly on the cheek. Spencer's presence was enough to send Ryan comfortably back to sleep, close enough to Brendon that their hands were almost touching, Brendon's palm curled up like he was waiting for Ryan to take his hand and hold on.
-
They woke up in an overheated tangle, Brendon and Ryan smushed together in the middle, one of Brendon's thighs pushed between Ryan's legs and one of Ryan's hands on the hot curve of Brendon's neck, Spencer and Jon near enough to reach out and touch with the minimal space between them that Ryan and Brendon took up.
Ryan blinked awake and Brendon was already looking at him, at his - at his mouth, Ryan realized, flushing. They were close enough that Ryan would only barely have to stretch to kiss him, and he watched as his thumb stroked over Brendon's jaw, almost independently of the rest of him, and then Jon peered sleepily at him, lifting up to look at him from behind Brendon, and Ryan stilled. Jon just smiled, though, and reached out to rub his knuckles over Ryan's stomach, barely edging beneath his t-shirt, light enough to make Ryan shiver and wake up Spencer, who nuzzled against the back of Ryan's neck and murmured something Ryan couldn't quite make out. Spencer wasn't a morning person.
Brendon really wasn't either (although he really wasn't a night person, either, or even an afternoon person - Ryan eventually concluded he just wasn't a person), and so he must have been half-asleep still, Ryan thought, when he nudged further into Ryan's space until their foreheads were pressed together. He must not have been thinking when he leaned in close enough that Ryan could almost feel his lips move, and Brendon's leg was pushed between his, each tiny movement a slow rich drag of friction on his inner thighs. It didn't take much, less than this, even, for Ryan to get hard, and he was, oh, shamefully hard, Brendon in front of him and Spencer behind, Jon watching, brow creased in frustration, confusion, interest, Ryan wasn't sure. Ryan bit his lip - wanted to bite Brendon's lip - and tried not to move, tried not to squirm back against Spencer, tried not to shift closer still to Brendon.
Spencer's hand slid down to his hip, and Ryan was suddenly, deeply aware of the press of Spencer's erection against his ass; he couldn't even make himself look down, if Brendon was hard too he didn't need to know it, Brendon could surely feel him, and the thought barely passed through his mind before Brendon curled his hand over Spencer's and dragged Ryan closer, closing the space between them completely, erasing all doubt.
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut and felt every inch of skin pressed against him, so surrounded, and even though his heart was pounding and nerves were making his fingers cold and his breathing quick, he still had never felt safer than he did with them around him, against all reason and rationality. Spencer kissed the back of his neck, a light graze of teeth as Ryan shuddered out a breath against Brendon's lips, and Jon spread his fingertips out along Brendon's stomach, Ryan could feel it, the movement of Jon's hand against his skin, and then he felt Jon draw back.
"You guys?" Jon said, hesitant, and Ryan wanted to cry. Not now, god, not now when it was so, so perfect.
"It's just a kiss good morning," Brendon said, and before Ryan could do much Brendon leaned in that bare millimeter and brushed his lips against Ryan's, warm and soft and startlingly tender, thrusting gently against his stomach until Ryan gasped and opened for him. Brendon stroked his tongue over Ryan's lower lip before licking into his mouth, and this was accelerating past friendly at an alarming speed, way past it; Ryan could feel Spencer raise up a bit behind him to watch, still pressed up to his back as Brendon pulled him closer, and he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes for fear that Jon would hate him.
"Jesus," Jon said, "that's how you guys say good morning?"
"We're friendly," Spencer said, squeezing Ryan's hip until he broke away, leaving Brendon watching him dark-eyed, hand still on his side so it wasn't easy to twist around and kiss Spencer too, but Ryan managed. There wasn't much space to work with, but Ryan maneuvered until he was on his back under Spencer, tilting his head up so Spencer could kiss him more deeply, feeling Jon and Brendon's eyes on him, watching them. When he broke away for air it was to Brendon's lips on his cheek, nuzzling his face, and he turned into it, kissing Brendon again, Jon still watching like he didn't know what to think, and Ryan was scared to even move too much in case everything shattered. Spencer shifted on top of him, kissing his throat, and Ryan gasped against Brendon's mouth when Spencer ground down against him.
"I'm just gonna," Jon said, and Ryan could feel him backing away; he grabbed for Jon's hand but Brendon already had it, and then Ryan was watching Brendon kiss Jon, holding him there when Jon tried to back off.
"Good morning," Brendon said, grinning. Jon blinked, and after an unsure moment, sat up, seeming to get distracted by Brendon's half-nakedness but then working past it. Brendon sat up with him, and kissed him again, quick.
Ryan coughed, and Spencer looked down, inhaled like he was going to say something, but then just rolled off of him.
"I brought breakfast," Jon said, after a minute.
"Cherry Danishes?" Spencer asked, his eyes lighting up.
more
Title: That's What He Said
Author: Sara
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon/Spencer/Jon, mention of Ryan/Pete
Summary: Truckstops and Statelines and boyfriends, etc.
Beta: gigantic did a lovely beta job on this; CJ, thank you. Thanks also to deliberatehips and callsigns for reading bits and pieces along the way - the encouragement is always appreciated.
Note: This fic is completely finished. It's also over 24,000 words long, so! I'm posting it in parts. Next part in a few days. Hurray!
"Admit you're in love with me," Brendon demanded.
"I'm not, jesus," Ryan said, squirming out from under him, or trying to, or sort of halfheartedly making a passing attempt to look like he was. "Would you get off of me?" He sent a pleading look up at Spencer, who just rolled his eyes and poked Brendon's side, right where he was the most ticklish, and then Brendon giggled and twitched above him and Ryan pushed up, only Brendon didn't let go so his clever maneuver sent them both tumbling to the floor and, "Ow," Ryan said pitifully.
Spencer stretched back out on the couch and said, "Wrestle on the floor, you morons."
"Oh baby," Brendon said, pulling Ryan's hips closer and grinding a little, jesus, right as Ryan said, "I'm not in love with you, let me go."
"Then stop acting like a jealous little bitch," Brendon said against Ryan's lips, and Ryan pushed him away.
He was not acting like a jealous little bitch.
-
Well, not really.
He actually liked Jon Walker a lot; he was a nice normal guy and not in the way that Ryan liked to say he was normal, or the way that Brendon liked to lie and say he was normal, too. Jon just liked playing music and being on tour. He liked wearing flip-flops and hanging out and reading and eating at diners. He was a normal dude.
He was a normal dude, and for some reason he tolerated Brendon's attentions, even though Brendon's idea of showing interest in somebody seemed to consist of draping himself over them like an overly friendly pussycat. Jon seemed to think it was cute, or something, and let Brendon hold his hand and hang on his shoulders and snuggle up when they all watched DVDs on Academy's bus.
"Are you trying to turn him or something?" Ryan asked. "Is this like, recreational for you?"
"He works with William," Brendon said, waving him off. "He's gay by osmosis."
"You're not gay," Ryan pointed out, because seriously, Brendon liked girls, and he even slept with them sometimes now that his freakishness had translated itself into stage charisma. Now he was quirky, instead of just weird.
"I'm bi-curious," Brendon said, wide-eyed.
"Shut the fuck up," Ryan told him.
-
"Look," William said to Ryan, "I think Brendon's trying to fuck my guitar tech."
Trying was the operative word. Brendon had bitched for a good twenty minutes the night before about Jon ignoring all of his advances. Of course, Brendon's idea of "advances" seemed to involve feeling Jon up whenever he had the chance and possibly also just thinking about it really hard and hoping it would happen. Brendon was used to flat out rejection or girls falling into his lap, and the in-betweens of ordinary human interaction seemed to just confuse him.
"Your life is so hard," Spencer told him, prompting Brendon to climb onto Spencer's lap, shouting, "I'll show you hard, Smith," and Ryan had watched and hoped they would get naked or something, because it was Brendon, and Spence had been all prowly and slinky lately, and there was something stupidly hot about Brendon tickling Spencer until he giggled. Ryan willed himself not to get hard, but then Spencer was gasping and laughing on his back on the floor with Brendon sprawled over him, and mostly Ryan just wanted to be in the middle.
"Brendon is trying to fuck your guitar tech," Ryan told William.
"Oh shit, really?" William said, eyebrows raised. "Hey, Jon!" he yelled, and Jon ambled over, grinning a hello at Ryan. "Brendon's trying to get in your pants."
Jon looked startled. "No kidding? I thought he was just kinda weird."
"He is weird," Ryan said.
"Huh," Jon said.
William slapped Jon on the back and said, "Good luck with that."
-
Ryan tried brooding in his bunk, thinking about Brendon and Jon laughing and being happy together, but then he thought about them doing all those things naked and instead of being emo he was just sexually frustrated. Brendon came tromping down the hallway humming a Hilary Duff song and Ryan got on his stomach, trying to fake sleep, and a second later the curtain ruffled and Brendon peeked in.
"Did you tell Jon I had a crush on him?" Brendon demanded.
Technically, he hadn't used the word 'crush'. "No," Ryan said.
"Because William said you told him that I liked Jon and then he told Jon and now Jon knows," Brendon continued.
Ryan paused. "Yes," he said.
Brendon looked at him.
"Sorry," Ryan added.
"You know, if you want me to fuck you, you can just ask," Brendon said.
"Will you fuck me?" Ryan asked.
Brendon scowled. "Haha. Get off my back about Jon, okay? I like him. Deal with it." He let the curtain swing closed, and walked off.
"Haha," Ryan said weakly to his empty bunk.
-
Brent had gone missing again, like he seemed to be doing more and more lately, fucking off to wherever as soon as their bus stopped and then wandering back when they had to go on. They took turns finding him when he didn't answer his Sidekick, and this time Ryan had to do it, checking Academy's bus and then roaming the venue. He looked out back, just to be sure, but Brent wasn't there, he wasn't anywhere, and jesus, this needed to stop.
He heard giggling around the corner and when he rounded it he saw Brendon and Jon sitting on the grass, Jon grinning as he ruffled Brendon's hair, Brendon ducking his head and laughing. Ryan stared, caught in the unexpected vortex of adorable, as Brendon smiled at Jon and leaned into his space a little. Ryan felt a sick thrill low in his stomach, knowing he was witnessing something important; a moment later Jon was tilting his head to meet Brendon's lips, and it was sweet, Ryan thought dimly, a sweet first kiss between two nice guys and why, why, why wasn't it him.
Brendon was cupping Jon's face, kissing him deeper, and Ryan watched, kept watching, as they both pushed forward, each trying to move the other back but just ending up kissing harder.
Brendon grinned through the whole show after, and ended up staying the night on Academy's bus.
Ryan crawled into Spencer's bunk later, mumbling something about being cold. Spencer didn't ask questions.
-
"It's not like I'm in love with him or anything," Ryan murmured into Spencer's collarbone the next morning. "It's not like that. I mean, it's Brendon. He's like. A dork."
"Mm-hmm," Spencer said. He curled his fingers into the back of Ryan's t-shirt, and Ryan thought distantly that it might be nice to be shirtless with Spencer. Warmer. He snuggled closer, and Spencer's hand slid down his back, holding him there.
"It'd just be nice, you know," Ryan said. "To...have that."
"Nice," Spencer echoed.
There was a distant clatter of the bus door slamming shut and then a minute later the curtain of Spencer's bunk swung open and Brendon said, "Jon and I made out!" ecstatically, and then, "Whoa, hey, are you guys fucking?"
"Go away," Ryan said.
Brendon frowned, perturbed, then grinned again and bounded back out to the lounge, singing, "Everyone is gay and so am I!"
"That?" Spencer asked, after a minute.
"Maybe not that exactly," Ryan said.
-
"And then he touched my dick!" Brendon finished triumphantly.
"Please never, ever talk to me about your sex life again," Ryan said. It was going to be so awesome next time he saw Jon, about whom he now knew everything from his kissing style ("Really tender, like kissing a girl! Only with stubble, so not really like a girl, but nice! I liked it!") to his prior sexual experience ("I'm not the first guy he's kissed! I told you William makes everyone gay! He's even given a guy a blowjob! He wouldn't tell me who, though. I think it was someone on tour, I'm gonna ask around. Like as research.") to the possible size of his dick ("Like seven inches, I swear! I wanted to give him a handjob, because why not just go for it, right, I'm ready for it, I'm ready for dick, but then he got all skittish about other people being on the bus and I was like 'So what, man? Let me jerk you off!' and I think I almost convinced him but then Chad came by and was like 'I'm not listening to the gay sex in JWalk's bunk, please feel free to continue with the assfucking!' and I was like, 'Hey, assfucking,' but I think I sort of made Jon nervous because after that we just kissed a little more. Fucking Chad.").
"I can't wait to blow him," Brendon continued. "I think I'm gonna be good at it. I have the mouth for it, right?" Spencer came by and Brendon grinned at him. "Don't I have a cocksucking mouth?"
"Please let me die," Ryan said to Spencer.
"There there," Spencer said, patting Ryan on the shoulder. Ryan leaned his head into Spencer's hip and did not look at Brendon and his cocksucking mouth.
-
The worst part was that they were actually sort of darling. Jon smiled at Brendon in this really sweet way, and Brendon was always trying to grope him in public, but in a way that was less about Brendon being annoying and more about him finding Jon irresistible, and even when Brendon got all thrusty against Jon in the hallway Ryan couldn't bring himself to be too irritated, except that Jon was all he fucking talked about anymore.
"Brendon is such a pain in the ass," Ryan swore.
"Mmm," Spencer said, not looking up from his book.
Ryan flopped onto the couch next to Spencer, leaning his head on his lap. "He's always talking about Jon. Like, Jon is not the greatest person in the world, okay?"
"I think Jon's nice," Spencer said, turning a page.
"Kittens are nice," Ryan said. "Flowers. Rainbows. Those are nice things. Brendon is weird."
"Kittens are nice," Spencer said thoughtfully.
"It's annoying," Ryan continued, "it's like he never shuts up!"
"Really," Spencer said. "What's that like." Ryan looked up at him, and after a second Spencer rolled his eyes and petted Ryan's hair until Ryan looked down again, mollified. "He's just happy."
"He sucks," Ryan muttered, and Spencer snickered. Ryan rolled his eyes. "Shut up," he said, although in fact Brendon did suck ("I finally blew him last night, it was awesome, he was really slow and nice about it and I was like 'fuck my mouth, come on, I can take it!' but then I actually couldn't because Jon's kind of big, you know," and there Brendon made a hand gesture roughly indicating the approximate length and thickness and thank you but Ryan didn't really need to know that, "but I could take him pretty deep for my first try, even though I couldn't swallow it all, but next time I'm definitely going to, it was just more than I expected, you know?" Brendon had paused, waiting for Ryan, apparently, to chime in that of course he totally knew, but Ryan just let out a strangled, "Hysterical deafness, Brendon," and Brendon waved him aside and just kept talking), so it was, really, sort of funny.
-
It turned out there was actually one thing more annoying than Brendon in general, and that was Brendon in general when he was getting laid.
"Jesus christ," Ryan said when Brendon strolled onto the bus and graced him with a heavy-lidded grin. "Could you look a little less like you just got fucked?"
"Jealous?" Brendon asked, and Ryan assumed it was rhetorical, because god, obviously. Brendon wandered over to the couch, where Spencer was sprawled out as usual, and crawled on top of him, sliding a leg between Spencer's and resting comfortably on his chest. Spencer, who had been drowsing in front of the Food Network, just mumbled something and settled deeper into the cushions, petting the back of Brendon's hair. Ryan hated this fucking band.
-
"Hey, so," Jon said, and Ryan nodded hello. Jon had a hickey on his neck, a really blindingly obvious hickey like purple and black graffiti announcing 'Brendon was here 2006 xoxo' or something. "Um, I just wanted to make sure," Ryan thought about Brendon giving him that hickey, his lips moving over Jon's neck, sucking lightly, then harder, "you know, that everything was cool," Brendon's hand sliding into Jon's jeans, stroking him, how maybe Jon would put a hand on the back of Brendon's neck, encouraging, "what with me and Brendon and all that," and maybe Brendon would thrust against Jon's hip a little, needing the friction, "it's not like a big deal or anything, we're just hanging out," and Jon would moan, he had a pretty nice voice, he'd probably moan low, scratchy, "we're not gonna go all gay scandal or whatever, if you were worried about that," and Brendon would sink to his knees and look up at him, probably grinning that stupid hot grin that made Ryan want to either shoot himself in the head or roll over and beg for it, "so, we're cool, right? Because I like you, I want us to be friends," wow, hey, tight pants really weren't the fabulous idea he'd thought, "so, if you could say something, um, that'd be nice."
Ryan blinked at him. "Yeah, absolutely."
"Okay, great!" Jon grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. "I'll see you around!"
Spencer walked over and nudged him, watching Jon appraisingly as he left. "Hey, what was that about?"
"Jon has a hickey," Ryan said.
-
Brendon stopped bragging about his sex life, and it was almost worse. Girly, gossipy Brendon was a handful, but at least he wasn't like this new Brendon who prowled around all sated and pretty and talked to Ryan less because he was spending all his time banging Jon.
"All the blowjobs are fucking up your voice," Ryan said.
"You liar," Brendon said calmly. "Not getting laid is making you kind of mean."
"Actually getting laid for once is making you fucking annoying," Ryan snapped back, knowing he was being a total irrational bitch and yet unable to stop fucking talking. Jesus, not getting laid was making him kind of mean.
"I can take plenty, I have breath control," Brendon told him. "Not that it's any of your business, Ross."
"You're in my band," Ryan said. "Everything you do is my business." Why? Why did he even keep talking?
Brendon gave him a look, and then he was walking toward Ryan, crowding into his space, hips bumping his until Ryan's back hit the wall. "Look," Brendon said, low. "I don't know what your deal is. I don't know if you're stressed, bored, horny, whatever, but it's not my fault, okay?" Ryan closed his eyes, because jesus, this was pathetic, Brendon was inches away from him, bitching him out, and all Ryan could think was closer, please, closer. "Look at me," Brendon said, and Ryan shook his head, hoping Brendon wouldn't close the distance between them and find out how hard he was, almost as much as he hoped he would. "Look," Brendon said softly.
Brendon's fingers were on his jaw, tilting his face down a bit so their eyes met when Ryan opened his, and Brendon's eyes were deep, dark, intent, his mouth inches away. Ryan stared at him, helpless.
"If I've pissed you off or something, you need to tell me," Brendon said. "Did I do something? Seriously, just tell me."
He was so close, so fucking close that Ryan ached to touch him, felt his muscles tense with need, his fingers clench, and he couldn't help but lean into Brendon's touch a little, nuzzling into his hand. He wanted to pull Brendon to him, feel his lips pressing to his, lick at Brendon's lower lip until he opened up and god, fuck, he just wanted, wanted Brendon so badly it hurt.
Brendon blinked at him, startled, and then swept his thumb over Ryan's lower lip, a slow curious touch that made Ryan's breath come faster; Brendon frowned, said, "Hey, is it - you know I'm with Jon, I can't," but his hand was sliding back into Ryan's hair, thumb rubbing at the hinge of his jaw, moving forward without stopping-
Brendon kissed him.
Brendon kissed him, and Ryan felt himself go weak, wanted to lie down, lie down with Brendon on top of him, thrusting against him, wanted to wrap his legs around Brendon's waist and grind up until Brendon stripped him and fucked him.
"Oh god," Ryan gasped against Brendon's lips when they stopped to breathe, and Brendon echoed him a second later, blinking at him slowly and then pushing back, pushing away and, "No, please," Ryan said before he could stop himself, because they'd been so close, another second and Brendon would have been his, he could have had-
"I'm sorry," Brendon said, and when the dressing room door swung shut behind him, Ryan slid down the wall and stayed there.
-
Brendon kissed him, and they didn't mention it again.
Ryan didn't tell Spencer, he sure as fuck didn't tell Brent, and it wasn't like he could talk to Brendon about it, what with Brendon having been there, kissing him. They avoided each other as best they could what with playing shows every night, and Ryan spent the better part of a week hiding in his bunk, being miserable, until Spencer started giving him vaguely injured looks and Brent actually paid enough attention to say, "Dude, your emo is going to kill the band."
"My emo is the band," Ryan had snapped back, and then felt guilty, and then felt justified, and then felt lame because the band was also Brendon's voice and Spencer's drumming and Brent's having happened to grow up with them, Ryan thought uncharitably. He'd tried to sulk off and snuggle with Spencer after that, but Spencer and Brendon were involved in a particularly vicious game of two-player Ms. Pac-Man that culminated with Spencer's wild laughter and Fist of Triumph and Brendon promising to break his face. Ryan waited a while to see if they'd stop wrestling like twelve-year-olds, but it was Brendon and Spencer, and for some reason Brendon always seemed to take Spencer's seriousness as some sort of personal challenge. Brendon eventually started tickling him.
Ryan wanted to sigh and make Brendon give him Spencer back, but Spencer was giggling now, and Ryan hadn't been able to make Spencer giggle like that for years, ever since Spencer learned how and where to tickle him back. "Are you guys finished?" he said instead, once they'd slowed to just panting against each other, which Ryan was determinedly not recontextualizing.
"We are not," Brendon informed him, "Spencer's face is not yet broken, and I always keep my promises."
"No you don't," Ryan said, and it was almost normal, almost like they hadn't kissed, almost like things would be fine. "Can I have Spencer, please?"
"Hey," Spencer said, and Brendon said, "No, sorry, I like him. He's mine now. You'll have to find another one." Spencer struggled up from underneath him, pushing Brendon off.
Brendon scowled. "Are you guys going to go cuddle now? How come you never invite me?"
"You have a boyfriend," Spencer said. "It would be morally wrong. And the bunks aren't big enough."
Ryan almost said, "Mine," and stuck his tongue out at Brendon, but that would have been childish, so he just smirked instead. Brendon's stare dropped to his mouth, and Ryan had been doing fine, he'd gone a number of seconds without thinking about kissing Brendon, but now Brendon was looking at him and it wasn't fair, it wasn't right, Brendon couldn't just do this to him-
"You guys are totally gay, you know," Brendon said, crawling up to the couch and rolling over onto his stomach to sulk.
"Mm-hmm," Spencer said. "Cocksucker."
"I am a fantastic cocksucker!" Brendon shouted after them, and Ryan tugged Spencer's hand, leading him to his bunk.
He thought it'd be difficult to get out, but Spencer pulled him close, his hand sliding to Ryan's back to stroke at the base of his spine, and Ryan said, "We kissed." Spencer drew back a little, and Ryan clutched at the front of Spencer's shirt, murmuring, "Please, don't stop touching me."
"You and Brendon?" Spencer asked, his thumb dipping beneath the waist of Ryan's jeans, and Ryan tried not to squirm, but he could hardly help it, Spencer was so warm, touching him so softly and oh, god.
"Mm-hmm," Ryan managed, inching closer, not even inching, just pressing into Spencer as best he could without being obvious.
"How was it?" Spencer said, his lips against Ryan's forehead. His hand on Ryan's back got a bit more forceful, pulling Ryan against him, and Ryan was trying not to get hard, trying but then he felt Spencer thrust against him, just a little.
"Spence," Ryan gasped. "Fuck, please." Spencer slid a hand into his hair, tilting his face up until he was looking Spencer in the eye, close enough to share breath, and their lips were centimeters away, so close, so goddamn close.
"Did you like it?" Spencer asked. Ryan swallowed, forgetting the question, and Spencer leaned in, brushing their mouths together, soft and tentative for a second and then Ryan moaned, opening for him. Spencer murmured, "Fuck, Ry," all traces of coolness gone from his voice, and rolled them over, getting Ryan beneath him and kissing him hard.
When Ryan reached up to touch Spencer he realized he was trembling; it had been so long that he almost didn't know where to start, he wanted Spencer to keep kissing him, he wanted Spencer's lips on his throat, his stomach, Spencer's mouth on his cock, god. Spencer pressed against him, heavy and warm and perfect on top of him, and Ryan couldn't help but moan a little, needing to feel his skin, needing- "Fuck me," Ryan mumbled, helpless, "Spence, please, I need it, I need it so bad."
Spencer's hand slid down his side, thumbing the lower curve of his ribs before cupping his ass, fitting his leg between Ryan's so Ryan had to spread for him, arching up into the press of Spencer's body, hiking his leg up around Spencer's waist. Spencer worked at Ryan's fly with his other hand, and it took him a minute, struggling. Ryan reached down to help him, and when he touched Spencer's wrist he realized that Spencer was shaking too, his breath a hot shudder against Ryan's collarbone, and Ryan shifted under him, suddenly afraid Spencer was going to back out, and god, Ryan thought he would die if that happened now. He was so hard and Spencer's fingers were inching down his back, rubbing at the base of his spine before slipping lower, past the waistband of Ryan's jeans and stroking down.
Ryan squirmed, trying to push up into Spencer's touch, trying to get him closer, trying not to think at all, he just wanted this, he wanted Spencer-
"Okay, seriously, what the fuck are you guys doing back here- oh my GOD," Brendon said, and Ryan just caught his startled face before the curtain snapped back shut and Spencer sagged against him.
"Um," Spencer said. He carefully drew his hand out of the back of Ryan's pants, and then looked at him, his face bright red.
Ryan was never going to get fucked again in his life.
-
"Hey, have you seen Brendon?" Jon asked, and Ryan looked up from the couch where he'd been sitting in the hotel lobby, avoiding Brendon, Spencer, Brent, and every other person he knew in the world, although apparently not Jon, at least not with any measurable success. "Are you reading Teen Vogue?"
"No," Ryan said, "and no," he added, stuffing the magazine under his thigh with his thumb holding page thirty-eight in place.
"Oh," Jon said. "What are you doing down here?"
There were several levels of truth Ryan could cop to there and none of them seemed particularly appealing, but he sort of had to have a reason to be sitting in a hotel lobby while everyone else was getting ready to go out, or already out, or doing something that wasn't hiding under a pink newsboy cap reading girl magazines. Ryan sighed and flipped open Teen Vogue. "This eyeshadow thing, I think I might try it. It looks cool?"
"Huh," Jon said, sitting down next to Ryan; oh god, were they hanging out now? "Like on yourself?"
"Well, yeah," Ryan mumbled, "Not for- just, nevermind."
"Hey, it's cool, it'd look good on you." Jon smiled. Ryan smiled back, then realized he was smiling and stopped. "Seriously, what are you doing down here? Is everything okay? Are you going out with the others? I think they've mostly left."
"I was just gonna head upstairs, actually," Ryan said. "So."
Jon nodded.
"So, you could come hang out, if you want," Ryan finished, noticing the words as he said them as if they were from an overheard conversation. There they were.
"Sure," Jon said, after a pause. "We could get a movie or something."
"Yeah," Ryan said, having no idea what he was doing.
-
Maybe Jon could fuck me, Ryan thought to himself as they watched a regrettably bad Kate Hudson movie.
Jon laughed at a joke that hadn't been particularly funny. No wonder he got along so well with Brendon.
Of course, fucking Jon would probably get in the way of him figuring this thing out with Spencer.
Jon stretched his legs, smiling at Ryan and sliding a little further down the bed.
Still, Jon was pretty cute now that he didn't have Brendon wrapped around him like some sort of parasitic vine.
Ryan propped the pillow up under his head, settling onto his back and thinking about Jon shifting over a few feet and sliding on top of him. It might be nice, Jon holding him down. No, it would be. Ryan wanted to try it.
"What?" Jon asked, smiling like he wanted to be let in on the joke.
Ryan said, "Nothing."
-
It was innocent, really - the movie was lame, they'd been on the road all day, it was all warm and comfortable in there. Ryan was tired. He needed sleep, dammit, it wasn't his fault.
The light snapped on and, "What the fuck?" Brendon asked, and Ryan realized several things at once: he'd fallen asleep - with Jon - with Jon - Jon who was really, really nice and warm against his back - because they were snuggling, and if Ryan was pressed up close to him, well, Jon's arm was also around his waist - oh god, "Um," Ryan said, and Brendon repeated, "What the fuck?"
Jon nuzzled the back of Ryan's neck, mumbling sleepily, and geez, it was sort of adorable, no wonder Brendon liked him so much. Jon squeezed his waist and said, "Hey," and then, "Oh hey, Brendon," pulling back from Ryan.
Brendon's hands were at his hips, fully indignant, and Ryan wanted to laugh really, really badly, and he wasn't sure if it was because Brendon looked like a really pissed-off puppy dog, or because life was just funny, or because hysterical screaming seemed like an inferior plan. He didn't think Brendon would appreciate any of those explanations.
"We fell asleep," Jon said to Brendon, sitting up. "What time is it?"
"He - you," Brendon started, but he couldn't seem to find the words, and when Ryan looked back Jon was just blinking at him, his hair all mussed and flat on one side, sleepy-eyed, and Ryan stared for a moment, contemplating Jon Walker. When he turned back Brendon was deflated, the rage drained out of him; he just sighed and said, "Do you want to stay here tonight?"
"Sure!" Jon said happily, and rolled off of Ryan's bed, shucking his jeans and getting under the covers of the other bed. Ryan shut off the TV, studiously not watching as Brendon stripped down to his boxers and slid into bed with Jon, and Ryan could barely respond to Jon's, "Goodnight Ryan!"
The minutes ticked by in the dark, Jon and Brendon shuffling into place with each other, and Ryan didn't think about how Jon was actually a pretty good guy, or how Brendon was with him, and how good they seemed to be with each other; he didn't keep still to hear each movement, Jon's t-shirt hitting the ground, their soft goodnight kiss.
-
Jon ducked out early, or at least Ryan assumed he had, judging by the fact that Brendon was shaking his shoulder and saying, "Hey, hey, wake the fuck up." Usually Brendon was somewhat less of a jackass with Jon around to temper him. Ryan cracked one eye open. Brendon was leaning over him, backlit by thin streams of daylight coming through the motel curtains, and for a second Ryan let himself drift into thoughts of Brendon on top of him, looking into his eyes while fucking him hard, and then he glanced at the clock, saw that it was nine a.m. and they weren't on call 'til eleven, and his fantasies shifted to grabbing the clock and beating Brendon over the head with it.
"Why," Ryan asked, putting all the emotion he could into that word.
"Are you trying to sleep with everyone on this tour?" Brendon demanded and oh, wonderful, this was absolutely the conversation Ryan wanted to have at nine a.m., or like, ever.
"Don't be stupid," Ryan said, knowing it was a futile request, and rolled over so he wouldn't have to look at Brendon and his tufty hair and unseemly half nakedness and his stupid face.
Brendon paused, then climbed over Ryan and laid down on the bed next to him, pushing his way beneath the covers like a stupid pushy jerk, god, and then he stared at Ryan until Ryan sighed heavily. "I mean, Spencer, okay," Brendon said, "but if you could like, leave Jon out of it, I mean, I know how you are-"
"How I am?" Ryan snapped, and god, Brendon was wearing nothing but his boxers, and he was in bed with Ryan, and Ryan had really thought the two of them in bed together would go differently than this. "You kissed me," Ryan said, because what the fuck, where did Brendon even get off throwing accusations around?
"That was a mistake," Brendon said, "I didn't mean to."
"What, my lips just got in the way?" Ryan scoffed, and this was just impossibly fucking unfair, Brendon was right there in front of him, close enough to touch, so close and Ryan couldn't.
"Look," Brendon started, and then the doorknob rattled and a second later Jon pushed his way in with a small paper bag and a few bottles of juice. Ryan froze.
"Hey, what's going on?" Jon asked, sounding more curious than anything as the door swung shut behind him.
A second passed, and then Brendon said, "Ryan wouldn't talk to me."
"Oh." Jon seemed to consider that one for a moment, then shrugged and said, "I brought Danishes."
"Fuck yes," Brendon said, suddenly enthused. "Cherry?"
"Of course," Jon said, leaving everything on the table and walking over to nudge Brendon over. "Get up."
"You get down," Brendon insisted, and oh boy, now Ryan got to witness Adorable Boyfriend Theater firsthand, fucking joy. Jon smiled at Ryan apologetically and slid into bed next to Brendon, looping an arm around Brendon's waist. "I'm still tired."
"It's nine a.m.," Ryan pointed out, still deeply irked by that fact and rather sleepy, thank you.
"Did you talk to him?" Jon asked Ryan. Brendon was leaning back into Jon's embrace, his eyes slipping shut like he intended to go back to sleep, which Ryan thought sounded like an excellent opportunity to get some cheap snuggling out of the deal, even from stupid bony Brendon. Maybe he could convince Jon into the middle.
"Yes," Ryan said, shuffling a little closer to Brendon. So Jon could hear him, of course. Brendon looked to be already back asleep, just making an annoyed noise when Jon tried to reclaim his arm, and Jon sighed. Ryan quirked his lip up in a half-smile and scooted closer, just enough so that he could feel Brendon's warmth in the space around him.
"Good," Jon said, smiling, but it seemed like an effort for him to keep his head up, and a minute later he relaxed against Brendon's back, settling in.
Jon and Brendon were fast asleep and Ryan was dozing by the time Spencer came in through the connecting door, and by the time he reached the bed he seemed to have assessed the situation, realized there was no explanation that could really make that much sense, and then decided to accept that, because he just whispered to Ryan, "Hey, I couldn't get back to sleep."
There really, Ryan thought to himself, wasn't much he could do aside from scoot closer to Brendon and let Spencer slip into bed beside him, tucking himself against Ryan's back and kissing him hesitantly on the cheek. Spencer's presence was enough to send Ryan comfortably back to sleep, close enough to Brendon that their hands were almost touching, Brendon's palm curled up like he was waiting for Ryan to take his hand and hold on.
-
They woke up in an overheated tangle, Brendon and Ryan smushed together in the middle, one of Brendon's thighs pushed between Ryan's legs and one of Ryan's hands on the hot curve of Brendon's neck, Spencer and Jon near enough to reach out and touch with the minimal space between them that Ryan and Brendon took up.
Ryan blinked awake and Brendon was already looking at him, at his - at his mouth, Ryan realized, flushing. They were close enough that Ryan would only barely have to stretch to kiss him, and he watched as his thumb stroked over Brendon's jaw, almost independently of the rest of him, and then Jon peered sleepily at him, lifting up to look at him from behind Brendon, and Ryan stilled. Jon just smiled, though, and reached out to rub his knuckles over Ryan's stomach, barely edging beneath his t-shirt, light enough to make Ryan shiver and wake up Spencer, who nuzzled against the back of Ryan's neck and murmured something Ryan couldn't quite make out. Spencer wasn't a morning person.
Brendon really wasn't either (although he really wasn't a night person, either, or even an afternoon person - Ryan eventually concluded he just wasn't a person), and so he must have been half-asleep still, Ryan thought, when he nudged further into Ryan's space until their foreheads were pressed together. He must not have been thinking when he leaned in close enough that Ryan could almost feel his lips move, and Brendon's leg was pushed between his, each tiny movement a slow rich drag of friction on his inner thighs. It didn't take much, less than this, even, for Ryan to get hard, and he was, oh, shamefully hard, Brendon in front of him and Spencer behind, Jon watching, brow creased in frustration, confusion, interest, Ryan wasn't sure. Ryan bit his lip - wanted to bite Brendon's lip - and tried not to move, tried not to squirm back against Spencer, tried not to shift closer still to Brendon.
Spencer's hand slid down to his hip, and Ryan was suddenly, deeply aware of the press of Spencer's erection against his ass; he couldn't even make himself look down, if Brendon was hard too he didn't need to know it, Brendon could surely feel him, and the thought barely passed through his mind before Brendon curled his hand over Spencer's and dragged Ryan closer, closing the space between them completely, erasing all doubt.
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut and felt every inch of skin pressed against him, so surrounded, and even though his heart was pounding and nerves were making his fingers cold and his breathing quick, he still had never felt safer than he did with them around him, against all reason and rationality. Spencer kissed the back of his neck, a light graze of teeth as Ryan shuddered out a breath against Brendon's lips, and Jon spread his fingertips out along Brendon's stomach, Ryan could feel it, the movement of Jon's hand against his skin, and then he felt Jon draw back.
"You guys?" Jon said, hesitant, and Ryan wanted to cry. Not now, god, not now when it was so, so perfect.
"It's just a kiss good morning," Brendon said, and before Ryan could do much Brendon leaned in that bare millimeter and brushed his lips against Ryan's, warm and soft and startlingly tender, thrusting gently against his stomach until Ryan gasped and opened for him. Brendon stroked his tongue over Ryan's lower lip before licking into his mouth, and this was accelerating past friendly at an alarming speed, way past it; Ryan could feel Spencer raise up a bit behind him to watch, still pressed up to his back as Brendon pulled him closer, and he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes for fear that Jon would hate him.
"Jesus," Jon said, "that's how you guys say good morning?"
"We're friendly," Spencer said, squeezing Ryan's hip until he broke away, leaving Brendon watching him dark-eyed, hand still on his side so it wasn't easy to twist around and kiss Spencer too, but Ryan managed. There wasn't much space to work with, but Ryan maneuvered until he was on his back under Spencer, tilting his head up so Spencer could kiss him more deeply, feeling Jon and Brendon's eyes on him, watching them. When he broke away for air it was to Brendon's lips on his cheek, nuzzling his face, and he turned into it, kissing Brendon again, Jon still watching like he didn't know what to think, and Ryan was scared to even move too much in case everything shattered. Spencer shifted on top of him, kissing his throat, and Ryan gasped against Brendon's mouth when Spencer ground down against him.
"I'm just gonna," Jon said, and Ryan could feel him backing away; he grabbed for Jon's hand but Brendon already had it, and then Ryan was watching Brendon kiss Jon, holding him there when Jon tried to back off.
"Good morning," Brendon said, grinning. Jon blinked, and after an unsure moment, sat up, seeming to get distracted by Brendon's half-nakedness but then working past it. Brendon sat up with him, and kissed him again, quick.
Ryan coughed, and Spencer looked down, inhaled like he was going to say something, but then just rolled off of him.
"I brought breakfast," Jon said, after a minute.
"Cherry Danishes?" Spencer asked, his eyes lighting up.
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