gsf = otp?
Happy Wednesday! Here's more fic.
Title: That's What He Said (2/3)
Author: Sara
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon/Spencer/Jon, mentions 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 callsigns for reading bits and pieces along the way - the encouragement is always appreciated.
Note: Part two of three, love and thanks again to those of you who commented on part one. Third and final part will be along in a few days, I promise. And feedback is very much appreciated. :)
It wasn't like it had been a particularly long time since Ryan had last been fucked or anything, not like the streak of, "Eighteen years," Brendon used to say in an awed voice after he finally gave it up to his first girlfriend. Sex hadn't actually ever been a very big deal for Ryan, intense but good, certainly not the axis upon which the world turned, like it was for Brendon. Of course, lots of things were a big deal to Brendon, like who got the nicest hotel room, and the DVDs they watched before shows (horror was good because it got adrenaline going, but Brendon always pouted when Ryan tried to put on something depressing, because it messed with Brendon's chi, or his method acting, or whatever excuse Brendon made up that week for why they had to do what he wanted), and who ate the last bowl of Count Chocula. Ryan and Brendon possibly had slightly different approaches to life.
So Ryan had had a fair amount of sex, he thought, enough to be comfortable but not slutty or anything. It was good, meaningful sex that furthered the relationship, and when he broke up with his high school girlfriend, he maybe jerked off a little more than before, but not too much.
Then Ryan got fucked by Pete Wentz.
-
"Please fuck me," Ryan said, pressing his forehead to the shower wall, wet and overheated and ready now, right now. "Please."
"Oh god, Ry," Spencer murmured, and pushed his fingers deeper into Ryan's ass, twisting three in, slipping on Ryan's wet skin and pressing closer, getting them both under the angled hot spray of water.
"Please," Ryan repeated, really not above begging at this point. Or ever. But especially now.
The thing was - the thing was, Ryan had entertained vague thoughts of sex with Spencer, first time sex, because it was a big deal, a huge deal, they'd been best friends since they were five and that wasn't something that could just be thrown away on a cheap fuck. But also, it was him and Spencer, and although Ryan was actually comfortable with cheap sex, he knew that no matter where he and Spencer fucked, it wouldn't be like that, at all.
At all, which was why it was really important that Spencer fuck him right now, in the shower, as Brendon got dressed in the room, or probably jumped up and down on the bed like he did sometimes, thinking that they didn't know about it, probably doing backflips and cracking his idiot head on the ceiling, which was fine so long as he didn't come in and interrupt.
Spencer was still fingering him, thrusting three in and out, which felt fantastic, actually, but it had been approximately three months since Pete decided that he and Ryan should stop fucking and Ryan was really ready for Spencer to fuck him five minutes ago.
"I swear, Spence," Ryan said, "If you don't fuck me I'll," and then Spencer paused, and Ryan could feel Spencer smiling against the back of his neck.
"What?" Spencer asked. "You'll what?"
"Cry," Ryan said definitively, because Spencer hated it when Ryan cried; he couldn't stand the sight of Ryan crying, and usually started himself, and then Brendon would find them clutching each other in tears because Ryan watched The Notebook again.
"You suck," Spencer said, but then he was pulling his fingers out, lining up and pushing forward and oh yeah, emotional manipulation was great fun for Ryan, but still a distant second to the feeling of a dick in his ass. "Oh god," Spencer groaned, leaning in, pressing his forehead to Ryan's wet hair, licking at the wet skin at the back of Ryan's neck and then biting down.
Ryan sagged a bit against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut at the pressure, the intensity. He squirmed back, taking Spencer in deeper, and Spencer clutched at his hips, digging his fingers in, trying to control the pace but Ryan needed him inside now, deep as he could go, filling Ryan completely. Ryan licked his lips, sliding a hand down to his cock, caught up in the feeling of hot water and Spencer, wanting, wanting.
"Can you just-" Spencer started, but Ryan shook his head, grasping Spencer's side and pulling him closer, struggling for words, needing Spencer to understand, but Spencer knew how much he loved it, he'd told Spencer all about Pete fucking him for the first time, the burn of it, the stretch, how Pete hadn't let up and how goddamned good it had felt, he knew Ryan needed it -
"Hard," Ryan gasped, "Fuck, Spencer, I need it hard," and Spencer muttered, "Fuck," and grabbed his wrists, Ryan unable to avoid the whine when Spencer made him release his cock, but then Spencer had him in place, hands to the wall, gripping him, holding him there. Spencer pulled out and slammed back in, and Ryan choked, arching backwards, his spine bowing as Spencer thrust in again, rough, again, hard, again, deep, and Ryan moaned loud before Spencer murmured, "Shh," and bit his earlobe, but he was fucking Ryan perfectly, god, how was Ryan supposed to be quiet?
"You want Brendon to come in?" Spencer asked, and Ryan jerked in Spencer's grip, his hips twitching forward involuntarily. He hadn't been thinking about Brendon, even, and no, that probably wasn't how Spencer meant it, no, definitely not, judging by how Spencer released one of his wrists to flick him in the side, right below his ribs where he was the most ticklish. "Jesus, Ryan, focus," Spencer hissed, and Ryan clenched around him, retaliatory, so the last word trailed off, sibilant, and ended with Spencer licking along the side of his neck and tonguing the sensitive spot behind his ear where Spencer knew he liked to be touched.
Ryan really wasn't getting an adequate amount of friction from the wall, but when he snuck his hand back down to grasp his cock Spencer smacked his hand away, taking Ryan's cock himself and squeezing a little too hard, so Ryan gasped and shifted backwards, away from Spencer's grip and back onto his cock, which was just about perfect, even if he was suddenly sad he couldn't see Spencer's face. They'd make out later, he promised himself, once they had time, when Ryan hadn't just been forced to sit and have a Danish, the lemon one nobody else wanted, and eat for fifteen minutes with a raging hard-on that had then caused him to grab Spencer bodily when Spencer came into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and threaten to drag him into the shower with his clothes on if he didn't strip right then and get in with Ryan.
"Come on, Ry," Spencer said, stroking him a little more softly, and it could have been encouraging, it could have been that he just really wanted to make Ryan come, hell, it could have been that they had to go in ten minutes and Ryan was taking too long to get off; whatever, it was Spencer, and he pushed deep and Ryan came over Spencer's fist, moaning his name, letting Spencer fuck him through it until Spencer thrust in hard and came too.
They stood there for a few minutes, panting, until Spencer pulled out of Ryan with a groan and Ryan shuffled around for a kiss, feeling that pleasant ache and blissfully unconcerned with the fact that he'd probably be hobbling a bit for the next few hours. It hurt, it felt great. He grinned against Spencer's lips and Spencer said, "Seriously, that's all I have to do to keep you happy? You couldn't have told me this before?"
"Come on, we have to get going," Ryan said, still impossibly pleased, and manhandled Spencer around so they could get all cleaned up and get out.
"This is all I'm good for now," Spencer said, mournful, and Ryan murmured, "Mm-hmm," against his cheek, and ran the washcloth down Spencer's stomach, groping his cock companionably and making Spencer grunt and inch backwards, letting Ryan kiss him and get them ready for the day.
-
"Spencer fucked you in the shower, didn't he?" Brendon hissed.
"God, Brendon," Ryan said. Brendon had him cornered, at the venue, completely in Ryan's space, and it was hard to focus on the fact of Brendon being a pushy, nosy jerk when he was two inches away and Ryan couldn't stop thinking about Brendon's mouth on his that morning, Brendon's dick pressed against his hip. "Maybe," Ryan finished lamely.
Brendon crossed his arms. "What are you doing with him? Are you guys together now?"
"I was making out with you this morning, you idiot," Ryan said, "what do you think?"
"I think he fucked you in the shower."
"What, and you and Jon haven't fucked today? Is that what's making you crabby?" Ryan frowned at him, then paused. "Wait, he's not really freaked or anything, is he?"
"Maybe I'm really freaked," Brendon started, but then Spencer came around the corner, stopping when he saw them and raising an eyebrow.
"What's going on?" Spencer asked. His hand slipped around Ryan's waist, coiling around him and pulling him in. Ryan didn't even realize it was happening until Spencer pressed a kiss to his cheek. He grinned at Ryan. "This guy bothering you?"
"Not really anymore than usual," Ryan said.
"If Jon breaks up with me, I'm joining you," Brendon promised, and then huffed off toward the dressing rooms.
"What if he doesn't?" Spencer asked, and Ryan said, "Hmm."
-
Probably, Ryan thought as he listened to Jon sucking Brendon's cock in the bathroom stall, probably they wouldn't be breaking up anytime soon.
All Ryan had wanted was to wash his hands after William spilled a cup of wine on him (and no, William licking his fingers off had not been an acceptable alternative; Ryan licking it off himself, "Slowly," William said, leering, hadn't been acceptable either), but when he'd walked into the bathroom next to the dressing room, he'd been welcomed by the sound of Brendon gasping and the sight of a pair of jean-clad knees between Brendon's spread legs.
"Seriously," Ryan said over the sound of running water, "seriously, the bathroom? It might not have been me, you know."
Brendon moaned. Ryan rolled his eyes.
"Also, we're on in like, half an hour, so if you guys could hurry it up," Ryan continued, well aware he was just being mean now, but come on, a (more or less) public bathroom? Really?
"Well if someone would just finger my ass," Brendon said, and Ryan heard a small slap, like maybe Jon had smacked Brendon on the hip like he deserved.
Jon said, "Well maybe if you could spread your legs a little better in those pants."
"You like my tight pants, shut up," Brendon said. "Oh god yeah, right there."
"Okay, well," Ryan said loudly, shaking the water off his hands and definitely not thinking about sucking Brendon's cock himself. "I'm just gonna go now, so have a nice blowjob and everything."
"It would be faster if, oh god," Brendon said, and Ryan was probably imagining the sound of his balls hitting Jon's chin, god, could Jon deepthroat? "If you helped."
"Hey," Jon said.
"Not that you aren't doing a good job," Brendon added quickly, and Ryan rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying, if you both wanted to suck my dick," he said, raising his voice for Ryan's benefit, "that'd be cool."
Ryan left the bathroom.
-
"We have to do something about Brendon," Ryan said, agitated, taking Spencer's arm and dragging him into the corner of the dressing room.
Spencer nodded. "Fuck him."
"What?"
"You don't think it would work?" Spencer asked.
"Work how?" Ryan blinked. "What do you think we're trying to accomplish?"
"If he was sucking my dick, he wouldn't be able to talk," Spencer said contemplatively.
Ryan wasn't sure when this conversation had gotten away from him.
"Which would be good," Spencer continued, "because then we wouldn't have to listen."
"How are you supposed to fuck me if Brendon's sucking your dick?" Ryan asked, because really, couldn't he have something nice for like a day without Brendon nosing his way into it?
It was around this point that Ryan noticed William insinuating himself closer.
-
"William just asked me if he was invited to the orgy," Jon said, following Brendon onto the bus after the show.
"Huh." Ryan didn't look up from the video game he was playing with Brent, not even when Brendon brushed his knuckles over the back of Ryan's neck. "That is so random."
"Could you guys not have an orgy on the bus?" Brent said, after a minute.
"Where are we supposed to have it?" Brendon asked, honestly perplexed. His hand tightened on Ryan's neck, a warm grip, and it was a serious effort for Ryan to not just drop right there and beg.
"I'm going to go call my girlfriend," Brent announced, and retreated to his bunk.
Ryan paused the game. Brendon was rubbing his neck now, slow and hot. "So," Ryan said.
"I knew you were in love with me," Brendon said, grinning.
"Oh for god's sake." Ryan ducked out of his grip, tossing the controller on the ground and shifting around on the couch so he could lie face down and pretend Brendon didn't exist. Jon came around and sat down on the floor in front of him, patting Ryan on the shoulder. Ryan murmured appreciatively. Jon was nice. Ryan thought about him sucking Brendon's cock again.
"Wait, are you in love with Spencer?" Brendon asked. The trouble with guys like Brendon was that they were skinny little fuckers that could easily fit with you on a couch, even when you were sprawling. Brendon clambered over, lying insistently on Ryan until Ryan grunted and shifted, moving enough to let Brendon slide between his back and the couch cushions. Brendon immediately snuggled in, slinging an arm around Ryan's waist and offering, "You can be in love with Jon, I don't mind. He's a really good fuck."
"I'm not-" Ryan started, but then the door back to the bunks opened and Spencer made it half a step in before stopping and raising an eyebrow.
"Brent said to tell you guys not to have an orgy up here," Spencer said, shutting the door behind him. Brendon made an interested noise, thrusting a little against Ryan's ass, and Ryan's huffed out sigh turned into an embarrassing squeak. "Too late?" Spencer asked.
"We're snuggling," Brendon said, his hand sliding down Ryan's stomach. Ryan cracked one eye open. Jon grinned at him and ruffled his hair.
"Snuggling, right," Spencer said. Ryan understood the basis of his skepticism, as Brendon's fingertips were currently pushing past his waistband. "So what is this, free for all?"
"Please, I don't come cheap," Brendon boasted.
"Wow, that's a lie," Jon said. Gosh, Ryan liked Jon a lot.
Spencer watched, looking torn between joining and telling them to quit. Ryan tried not to squirm too much, but Brendon's hand had slipped lower, mercifully atop his jeans but sliding along the outline of his cock, making Ryan bite his lip and press his face into the couch cushions, Brendon breathing hot at the back of his neck, and this was going to become an issue really quickly if Brendon didn't stop, in that Ryan was going to shove his own pants down and beg Brendon to fuck him. And no one wanted to see that. Except for Brendon, and maybe Spencer. Ryan chanced a look at Jon. Okay, Jon maybe wouldn't mind either.
"I-," Ryan started, but then the door pushed open and Brent knocked into Spencer, still standing there. Brendon yanked his hand away from Ryan's dick so fast he might have gotten friction burn from Ryan's jeans.
"Oh," Brent said, blinking.
"Hey Brent," Jon said. This was probably easy for him because he wasn't all flushed and obviously hard like Ryan was, with Brendon still behind him, squirming a bit.
"Um, hey." Brent looked to Spencer. "I didn't know you guys were actually, like. What's going on?"
Ryan buried his face in the couch cushions, trying to disappear. The last time he'd really discussed sex with Brent they'd been twelve, and Brent had been showing off his dad's stash of old Playboy magazines. All Ryan remembered of them was that the girls' makeup had been awful.
"Snuggling," Brendon said, less confident this time.
"Nothing." Spencer walked over, sitting down next to Jon. "We were just gonna watch a movie."
Brendon nudged at Ryan until Ryan sat up, although not before elbowing Brendon in the gut and making him give a pitiful, "ow."
-
"Hey," Ryan whispered, crawling into Spencer's bunk. "So."
In the bunk above them, Brent shifted. Spencer raised an eyebrow.
"Did you want to, um," Ryan started, settling between Spencer and the wall. It seemed an appropriate moment for a hand gesture but god, no.
"We probably shouldn't," Spencer said. Ryan squirmed, pushing his erection against Spencer's hip, and Spencer wormed his hand down between them, palming Ryan's dick through his boxers and squeezing. "Hey, quit."
Ryan bit his lip, thrusting into Spencer's grip. Sometimes Spencer's ideas weren't so effective. "Brendon and Jon get to," Ryan said, and if it edged dangerously close to a whine, then at least Spencer was kind enough not to comment on it.
"That's because they're in the lounge, and they will never, ever tell us what they did there and exactly where," Spencer said. Ryan bit his lip, thrusting plaintively against Spencer's cupped palm. Spencer gave him a long-suffering look, and Ryan nuzzled his neck. "Christ," Spencer swore, and Ryan grinned, licking at his collarbone and wiggling as Spencer pushed his boxers down, finally getting a good grip on him. "I'm not doing acrobatics in here to fuck you."
"Finger me," Ryan murmured, "and I'll blow you."
"Fine," Spencer said after a moment, a little weakly, and the way his voice hitched when Ryan trailed fingers down his side made Ryan want, suddenly, terribly, to see Spencer come, like he hadn't gotten to in the shower, as good as that had felt. He tugged at Spencer's pajama bottoms, getting them down past his hips, down to his thighs and there was his cock, flushed and hard as Ryan ducked down, folding himself up to fit. He couldn't help but lick his lips, already leaning in so his tongue caught the tip and Spencer moaned aloud, then covered his mouth. Ryan raised an eyebrow, and Spencer mouthed, "Brent."
Brent had been falling asleep with his headphones on for most of the tour, a practice he got into when they were still stuck in a van. He still was, as far as Ryan knew, but Ryan put his finger to his lips anyway, shushing Spencer and making him roll his eyes, until Ryan mouthed at the head of his cock and Spencer's head fell back, his hips arching up, pushing into Ryan's mouth as Ryan sank down, taking him in inch by inch.
He had to look, he couldn't help but look, fingers nudging under Spencer's t-shirt, pushing it up until Spencer squirmed out of it. Ryan grinned as best he could, sucking gratefully at Spencer's cock as he ran his fingertips down Spencer's chest, pale and unexpectedly pretty; Spencer was biting his lip, back arching as Ryan took him deeper, thumbed the soft edge of his ribcage, wanting to set his teeth to the white curve of Spencer's throat and bite down. "Ry," Spencer whispered, fumbling for Ryan's hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing. Ryan closed his eyes and slid down as far as he could go.
Spencer's hips jerked, and Ryan choked a bit, backing off. Spencer tightened his grip on Ryan's hand in apology, and Ryan stroked his thigh, blinking up at Spencer as he watched Spencer watch him, pulling off to lick at the head of Spencer's cock, holding onto the base and letting Spencer thrust up into his grip. His thoughts whirled, tangled up, tripping from memory to memory - Spencer's house, down the street from his, where he'd stayed so many nights 'til late, tripping and skinning his knee in the driveway when he was six, tears welling up and Spencer crying too, wringing his hands as Spencer's mom fussed over them. Spencer kissed Ryan's cheek afterwards, fretful, telling him it'd be okay, and maybe this was a stupid time to think of that, but it was Spencer, and Spencer had been so much to him for so long, and now he was more.
Ryan nuzzled Spencer's thigh, licking at the crease and making Spencer twitch, releasing Ryan's hand to slide it into his hair, holding him there,
and Ryan rubbed his cheek against Spencer's palm, taking Spencer in again, letting Spencer guide him, letting Spencer thrust gently up, sucking hard, working his tongue as best he could with Spencer's cock pushing into his throat, wishing so badly that Spencer was fucking him. Ryan pulled off, licking along the underside and murmuring, "You close?" Spencer nodded, and Ryan lowered his mouth, stroking his tongue over the base of Spencer's cock, slowly fisting his cock until Spencer bit his lip, arched up and came, Ryan letting himself taste just a little, just enough to make his mouth water. The rest he let streak Spencer's hips and stomach, glistening white, and when Spencer settled, shifting in Ryan's grip, Ryan crawled up Spencer's body and kissed him hard.
"I want your fingers," Ryan said, moving his lips over Spencer's neck, aiming for requesting and arriving at demanding.
"Fuck, you're," Spencer started, but then seemed to think better of it, stroking his knuckles over Ryan's stomach until Ryan lifted to let him free, then rubbing his fingers over Ryan's lips. Ryan shook his head. "What?" Spencer asked, and Ryan took his hand, guiding it down Spencer's stomach until Spencer's fingers were wet with his own come. Spencer's eyes narrowed, and Ryan pushed his cock against Spencer's hip as Spencer ran his fingers through the mess until they were wet enough, slick. "Spread your legs," Spencer whispered. Ryan tried not to moan out loud.
Tried, but failed, because Spencer was sliding his hand around, fitting his fingers between Ryan's cheeks and stroking him, getting him wet until Ryan was squirming, rubbing up against Spencer's side, needy, gasping, "Please," against Spencer's neck and biting down vengefully when Spencer didn't immediately push his fingers in.
"Hey!" Spencer whispered, testy, and Ryan raised his ass, trying to get Spencer's fingers in, mouthing at Spencer's throat and going willingly when Spencer dragged him closer, half on top of him, Spencer shoving his thigh between Ryan's and lightly smacking his ass with his other hand, grabbing one cheek and spreading him, then thrusting a finger inside. Ryan twitched, then wriggled backwards, Spencer muttering, "Goddamned greedy," before worming another finger into Ryan's ass, wet, aching faintly when Spencer twisted his fingers deep (it had been so long since he'd had this regularly, god), perfectly, just enough to remind Ryan how much he loved this, needed it, needed Spencer.
"Three," Ryan murmured, "Please, I," but Spencer didn't say anything this time, just worked a third finger in, opening Ryan up, getting inside him as Ryan panted against his collarbone, thrusting his ass back shamelessly onto Spencer's fingers. Spencer slid his other hand back up along Ryan's side, curling into his hair and tugging Ryan's head back so they could kiss, sloppy, Ryan mostly just pressing close and letting Spencer lick into his mouth, letting himself be kissed, fingerfucked, shifting against Spencer as Spencer worked his fingers in and out and Ryan rubbed up against his stomach, warm and still a little slick with come.
It surprised Ryan when he came, Spencer biting his lower lip and pushing his fingers deep, kissing and stroking Ryan through it, close and warm until Ryan eased off of him, sliding down to lick his come off of Spencer's belly, cleaning him up, leaving grateful kisses on the soft skin of waist, his hips. He settled against Spencer, after, rubbing his thumb over Spencer's collarbone, murmuring thanks as Spencer ruffled his hair.
"So, Jon and Brendon," Spencer said, and Ryan was pretty sure he didn't mean the fact of them, that they existed, but it was late and he was sleepy.
"I dunno," Ryan murmured. "Let's sleep, okay?"
"'Kay," Spencer said, and kissed his forehead.
His face pressed to Spencer's shoulder, Ryan smiled.
-
"Me and Jon want to fuck you," Brendon said the next morning.
Ryan blinked, momentarily suspended as Brendon continued to eat his way through a frosted Pop-Tart, then lowered his spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios.
"Actually," Brendon frowned, "I think Jon wants to fuck Spencer."
There was a crumb of Pop-Tart clinging to Brendon's lower lip. Ryan was mildly interested in licking it off, if only because it would make Brendon stop talking.
"Kinda, you know," Brendon squinted, "like a wife swap." He finished his Pop-Tart, munching contentedly on the last few bites, then flicking the crumbs off his fingertips and onto the table. "I think you and I would be the wives. But then we could try it the other way, too."
"You and Spencer?" Ryan said, finally locating his voice.
"Sure." Brendon shrugged.
Spencer wandered out from back, hair mussed and bleary-eyed.
"You wanna make out?" Brendon asked him.
"You wanna suck my dick?" Spencer asked, shuffling through the basketful of Brendon's weird imported teas before pulling out a red packet and flinging it at Brendon's head. Brendon blocked it, barely; it landed on Ryan's side of the table, label side up. Erotic Passion. Ryan hadn't been aware there were teas for things like that. "Where the fuck is my instant coffee?"
"I'm a really good kisser," Brendon told him. "You're missing out."
"I thought you were a really good cocksucker, too," Ryan said, immediately regretting it.
Brendon grinned widely. "Word gets around, huh?"
"No, that's what you told us," Spencer said, "did I mention where the fuck is my coffee?"
"You can have one of my Red Bulls," Brendon said, and Spencer looked at him sideways. Brendon guarded his Red Bulls with more ferocity than some wild animals guarded their children. Maybe Brendon really did want in Spencer's pants.
After a moment, Spencer said, "Okay." Brendon beamed.
-
"I think I'm going to fuck you on your back," Brendon said.
Ryan paused in the middle of tying his shoelaces. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.
"At least, the first time," Brendon mused. "Because I'll wanna look at you." He looked over at Ryan until Ryan looked back. "I wanna see you come."
"Yeah?" Ryan said. His voice wavered a bit, and he cleared his throat.
"Yeah. Just you and me, you know? Spencer and Jon can go shopping or something. Just give us an afternoon, a hotel room. I want to come on you, would you let me?"
Ryan swallowed, his eyes slipping shut. He nodded.
"Pull out and come on your stomach, maybe your chest." Brendon reached out, stroking Ryan's face. "All over you. Then fuck you again. You'll be so sore, you won't even be able to move without thinking of me inside you. You want that?"
Ryan nodded again, mindless, leaning into Brendon's palm.
Brendon whispered, "Good," and leaned in, kissing his cheek, his jaw, the corner of Ryan's mouth. Ryan shifted, trying to catch his lips, and next to them, someone coughed.
"We need to head into the venue," Brent said, looking awkward. Ryan blinked. He hadn't even noticed the bus stopping.
"Ryan just needs to get his shoes on," Brendon said, and clapped Brent on the shoulder. He grinned at Ryan, said, "Come on," and followed Brent off the bus.
Ryan stared in despair at his erection. "I'll be there in a minute," he said as the door slammed shut behind them.
-
"Brendon is a fucking cocktease," Ryan muttered at Spencer as they dressed for the show.
"Seriously," William groused, and honestly, as soon as humanly possibly Ryan promised himself they'd get their own damn headlining tour and not have to share dressing rooms anymore, please. "And with that ass? He needs it hard, man."
"You need it hard," Spencer told him, ignoring Ryan's wide eyes and frantic 'no, no, don't engage!' hand motions.
"Are you propositioning me?" William demanded. "Because that's fucking hot, come here."
Spencer backed up, realizing his mistake, and if he thought he could hide behind Ryan he was sorely mistaken, and not only because it was like trying to hide behind a flagpole, or a sapling.
"Bill, you're scaring him," Butcher said mildly, looking up from his book. He was already dressed for the show, which meant pink booty shorts and tattoos, and he didn't even have to put those on. Whenever Ryan thought about getting tattooed, he ended up briefly entertaining getting some Fall Out Boy lyrics somewhere, maybe on his hip (but then Pete would probably get embarrassed and try and cover them up whenever they fucked, or worse, get overexcited and try and come on them or something, which actually might be sort of hot - huh), but then he thought about how easily he bruised, and had horrific fantasies of the needle striking bone, cursive through to the marrow, and he loved Pete's words, but maybe not that much.
"I'm not scared," Spencer said, but he was still edging behind Ryan. Ryan patted his hip, going for comfort but getting distracted by how soft Spencer's skin was.
"Why not?" William demanded.
"Seriously?" Spencer asked, looking William up and down, and Ryan said loudly, "Hey, so we're gonna get ready now."
"You guys almost ready?" Brendon said, oblivious as he came toward them, accidentally knocking into Mike and making an apologetic kissy-face at him. Mike rolled his eyes.
"Ryan said you're a cocktease," William told Brendon.
"Really," Brendon said, staring at Ryan, and somehow Spencer curling his hand protectively around Ryan's waist felt more like a cruel tease than anything. "I could fix that right now, if you want."
-
"So Brendon wants to fuck me," Ryan said, hands clenched on the edge of the table he was leaning against as Spencer licked his cock.
"You really wanna talk about this now?" Spencer asked. He pushed another finger into Ryan's ass, and Ryan moaned.
"Well," Ryan said, then lost his train of thought as Spencer stroked his balls with his thumb.
"You want him to fuck you, right?" Spencer leaned in, fisting Ryan's cock a few times, lapping at the head.
Ryan's head lolled back; it was still stupidly surreal that Spencer was doing this, those same blue eyes he'd been looking into most of his life now looking up at him, Spencer's mouth stretched around his cock, god. Ryan forgot the question.
"I don't mind if you do," Spencer said, pulling off to focus on fingering him, three inside, stretching him, pushing him back and holding him up by his thighs as Ryan's knees buckled. "Figure it out, whatever."
"Yeah?" Ryan gasped, throwing in just enough of an interrogative twist at the end to make it a question.
"Yeah," Spencer said, eyes dark, "as long as you let me fuck you after."
Ryan shuddered, pushing back onto Spencer's fingers as Spencer grasped his cock, and Spencer closed his eyes as Ryan came on his face.
Ryan couldn't help it, he slid downwards, tilting forward so he landed on his knees, awkwardly straddling Spencer with his pants still pushed to his thighs. Spencer looked at him, and Ryan leaned in, licking his come off Spencer's cheeks, kissing it wetly off his chin, his lips, biting at Spencer's lower lip and then kissing Spencer hard enough that Spencer had to put his hands behind them on the floor, bracing them up.
"Fuck," Ryan said, when they broke apart, and maybe it was the room's weird acoustics, an unused back room in the venue, but Ryan could have sworn it echoed, like someone else said it too. When he glanced at the door, it was cracked open, just a bit (he knew they'd closed it), and he saw a flash of someone's foot, someone in - oh fuck, flip flops. "What the - was that -"
Spencer's mouth twitched up at the corners, slow, feline. There was still a smear of come on his cheek.
-
"Jon and I are going to wander around Boise on Sunday," Spencer said to Ryan, as they lounged on the couch, reading and occasionally poking each with their socked feet.
"So I can fuck you at the hotel," Brendon finished, not looking up from his fierce one-man battle with Halo 2. Spencer sighed heavily, and Brendon paused and glanced up at him. "What? That's the plan!"
Ryan wanted to be at least mildly offended - what, they were planning his sex life without him now? What was that? - but then Brendon dropped the controller and twisted around, winding himself up Ryan's legs like an affectionate cat until his head was leaning on Ryan's thigh.
"You okay with that plan, Ross?" Brendon asked, mouthing at his inner thigh through his jeans, and Ryan tried to be huffy, but god, Brendon's hot mouth, fuck denim, Ryan hated it, denim and every day between now and Sunday.
"That's fine," Ryan said, resisting the urge to stroke Brendon's face, touch his hair, push fingers into Brendon's mouth and let him suck them wet, then nudge Brendon off, lift his hips and finger his own ass until Brendon told him to roll over, fuck.
"Did you just want me to surprise him with it, or what?" Brendon demanded, turning to Spencer, who rolled his eyes.
"You could at least have had a little class about it," Spencer told him, and Brendon braced himself on Ryan's thighs, crawling up Ryan's body and straddling him for an entirely unnecessary and thrilling moment before climbing onto Spencer. "Hey, hey," Spencer said, trying to bat him away, but Brendon just leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth, nudging him downwards until Spencer was pressed to the arm of the couch, huffing out a sigh but kissing him back, squirming under him, his hands fisting in Brendon's t-shirt.
Ryan watched, mouth dropped open, wanting to lean around and get a better view, but afraid he'd jostle them and they'd stop, and that would suck because god, Spencer was making noises. Ryan craned his neck up, their entangled legs in his lap a wretched hindrance and oh fuck, Brendon was kissing Spencer's throat, wet little kisses that made Ryan bite his lip, jealous.
He must have made a sound, strangled, because Brendon pulled off, panting a little, and lifted himself up off of Spencer, then slithered back to the floor. Spencer swallowed and sat back up, straightening his clothes.
"So, quit bitching," Brendon said, as if concluding a thought, but he was a little breathless about it, cheeks flushed as he started up his game again, and Spencer just mumbled his assent and went back to concentrating very hard on his book. (Ryan paid attention. Spencer didn't turn a page for the next twenty minutes.)
-
"Jon's cool with this, right?" Ryan said, hands slipping against the back of the hotel room door, needing something to hold onto as Brendon licked his throat, bit down, sucked hard; Brendon groped his thigh helpfully, propping him up, whispered, "He's," then tugged Ryan's earlobe between his teeth, "He's fine, it's cool, come to bed," and it would have been easier, maybe, without Brendon pressing him to the door. Ryan just wanted to get his legs around Brendon's waist, flat on his back so Brendon could fuck him hard, so he could see Brendon's face, god, he wanted it so bad.
Brendon pulled him forward, away from the door and to the bed, and Ryan went willingly, falling backwards onto the bed and moving back, kicking his shoes off and shrugging off his jacket, Brendon pulling his own shirt off and going to work on Ryan's pants, fast, overwhelming. Ryan moaned, "God, Brendon, please," slower, he wanted to say, but then Brendon looked up at him, his breath hot against Ryan's stomach, and what Ryan had meant to say crumbled and disappeared. "I need it," he finished, lifting his hips so Brendon could get his pants off.
"Need it, you need me," Brendon said, asked, and Ryan agreed, "You, please, fuck me," twisting his way out of his shirt until he was naked under Brendon, marked here and there by Spencer's need (thin skin, Spencer knew how easily he bruised but he couldn't help but grip Ryan's hips, hold him still, hold him down) and wanting Brendon's, too, needing Brendon's mark on him, something tangible, something he could see, touch. Brendon's eyes fluttered shut, and he closed his teeth over the curve of Ryan's hipbone, groping for Ryan's cock and then curling his fingers around it, and Ryan fought a moan and lost, tilting his head back, on the verge of begging already.
"I'll go slow," Brendon mumbled, nuzzling Ryan's hip, and Ryan's heart skipped, "later."
Ryan nodded, and Brendon pushed his thighs apart, Ryan arching helpfully up, baring himself to Brendon and Brendon leaned in, stroking his tongue behind Ryan's balls, further back.
"Fuck," Ryan whispered, helpless as Brendon parted his cheeks, licked between, sucked his fingers wet and then pushed one inside Ryan, two, thrusting them in and out, wet with spit but nothing else, stretching him, spreading him open.
(Spencer had fucked him that morning, crammed in his bunk, Ryan on his hands and knees as Spencer whispered to him, telling him how good he was, how nicely he took it, how much Spencer loved fucking him and how much Brendon would love fucking him, too. Ryan had whimpered, pushing his ass back, begging for it harder but Spencer just bent him low, said he didn't want to wear Ryan out for Brendon, that wouldn't be nice, and he'd fuck Ryan as hard as he wanted later, until Ryan couldn't think of anything but being fucked, anything but them.)
Brendon worked his fingers in and out of Ryan's ass, licking around them, tongue pushing in a bit, stroking inside, and Ryan swore he would lose his mind from this, just from Brendon, fuck, calling up the faintest ache from Spencer already having him earlier, but all it did was make Ryan need it more. It just reminded Ryan how empty he was with just two fingers, wrong without a cock filling him up, without Brendon inside, "Please," Ryan gasped, so terrifyingly needy but maybe Brendon needed it like this too, maybe he needed to be inside Ryan as badly as Ryan needed him there, hot, hard, everything he'd ever wanted.
Brendon pulled his fingers free, moved up Ryan's body, pushing Ryan's legs to his chest and nudging his cock close, right where Ryan wanted it, and oh fuck, Ryan could hardly believe he was here, Brendon looking down at him, eyes desperate, voice cracking when he said, "Ry," and bent Ryan double so he could kiss him, fierce, sloppy, Ryan wrapping his legs high around Brendon's waist and trying to pull him closer, pull him in.
He stayed there for a second, the head of his cock pressing right up to Ryan's ass, almost there, and Ryan whined, couldn't stop himself, arching up to get just the tip inside; Brendon groaned and pushed forward, burying his face in Ryan's neck and his dick in Ryan's ass.
"God, you," Brendon whispered, "so tight, fuck," and Ryan clenched down on him, tangling his fingers in Brendon's hair, tugging his head back so they could kiss again, and Ryan bit Brendon's lower lip, hard.
Brendon drew back, injured, licking his swollen lip, and Ryan snarled, "Move," thrusting back as best he could with Brendon already so deep in him.
"Needy little bitch," Brendon said, his expression shifting to determination, and he pulled out, shrugging free of Ryan's grip and grabbing his wrists before Ryan could really stop him, and then Ryan was blinking up at Brendon, pinned to the bed now, wrists to the mattress with Brendon on top of him. It occurred to Ryan that he may have made a tactical error.
"Please," Ryan said in a small voice.
Brendon's grip tightened on his wrists, and for a terrible second Ryan thought it might be torturously slow like this, but then Brendon slammed his hips forward, driving his cock into Ryan's ass, and Ryan nearly howled.
It wasn't going to last long, not with Brendon pounding him like that, holding him there, fucking him hard, fucking him open. Brendon watched him, his eyes on Ryan's, staring down like Ryan had a secret Brendon desperately needed to know, like all he could do was fuck it out of him, thrust by thrust, rough and unceasing. Ryan gasped for breath under him, spread wide, taking each thrust, each glancing brush of Brendon's stomach against his hard cock, and god, all he wanted was for Brendon to touch him, just once, just grasp his cock and let him come, and then he'd lie back and let Brendon have him.
Ryan whimpered when Brendon gripped him hard, feeling his bones shift and protest and the feel of it, the pressure, knowing he'd bruise, made Ryan jerk up just as Brendon's cock struck him inside right at that spot; Brendon's stomach rubbed against his cock, hardly any pressure at all and Ryan came, hard, Brendon grinding his cock in deep and staring into Ryan's eyes as Ryan gasped and moaned his name.
"Oh fuck," Ryan said, head lolling to the side, going limp in Brendon's hold. Brendon released his wrists and took hold of his hips, bringing them up at a better angle for him to keep thrusting as Ryan rode out the last of it, trembling a little, overwhelmed by the force of his orgasm, of Brendon. He knew, he knew it would be good like this, him and Brendon, it couldn't have been anything but, and now Brendon was dragging his fingers through Ryan's come, licking it off his fingertips, and Ryan shuddered, wanting Brendon's mouth on him, wanting Brendon to keep fucking him and never stop.
Ryan tightened around him, clenching his ass and making Brendon groan and push deep, stay there, shoulders shaking as he came deep inside of Ryan, and when Ryan felt how Brendon was trembling he opened his arms and let Brendon fall into him, shifting a bit when Brendon pulled out, curled up against Ryan's chest and breathed.
"God," Ryan whispered, finally breaking the silence.
"Fuck," Brendon said, sounding awed. Ryan laughed a little, and Brendon rolled them over, pulling Ryan on top of him. "Let's do that again."
-
Ryan bounced up and down on Brendon's cock, hands braced on his chest as Brendon held onto his hips, thrusting up and pulling him down hard, so fucking good it made Ryan's eyes roll back. Brendon growling, "Yeah, ride me," wasn't doing much to keep Ryan from coming right there, fuck, he was already so deliciously stretched, almost sore, almost, one more round and he'd really be feeling it. He worked his hips, twisting and grinding down, throwing his head back and moaning like a whore for it; he'd hold himself back, but he didn't want to, Brendon didn't want him to, it felt so good, fuck.
"Thought you wanted to come on me," Ryan panted out, sweating, struggling for breath, so fucking hot he could hardly bear it. He squeezed Brendon's hips with his thighs, keeping Brendon trapped deep inside, sliding his hand back to feel it, the base of Brendon's cock disappearing into his ass, and Brendon gasped at the extra stimulation.
"Think you can let go of my dick for a minute?" Brendon asked, fingers digging into Ryan's thighs. Ryan clenched around him, and Brendon let out a strangled moan, fingernails digging in, red marks on his white thighs. "No?" He grabbed at Ryan's cock, getting a good grip and stroking him, clever little twists of his wrist and the fact of it, Brendon smirking at him, jerking him off while Ryan rode him, god, Ryan didn't stand a chance, jerking forward into Brendon's grip and coming all over his fist. "Now," Brendon said, "get off my dick, Ross."
Ryan lifted off, huffy, thought about biting Brendon's thigh but decided against it and just stroked his cock instead, all slick, crouched between his legs. Brendon grinned at him, and Ryan stroked up, hard, just licking at the tip, enough to make Brendon moan and come, striping Ryan's cheeks as he gripped Brendon's cock. He blinked up at Brendon, after, licked an errant streak of come off Brendon's thigh, quietly wiped his face off with the back of his hand, and then slowly cleaned his hand off with his tongue. Brendon let his head drop back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, and after a moment, Ryan crawled up and joined him, flat on the bed, his knuckles brushing Brendon's but not touching him otherwise.
"You're fucking dirty," Brendon told him, like he couldn't quit believe it, like he wasn't quite surprised.
"You fucking like it," Ryan said, breathless.
-
"God, I'm starving," Ryan groaned. Lying on his stomach after round three, Ryan was really starting to feel it. He needed food, and a nap. Mostly food, though.
Brendon looked sideways at him.
"Not for cock," Ryan said, rolling his eyes.
Brendon looked down his stomach, petting his cock softly. "Don't listen to him. He doesn't mean it."
"Were you just talking to your dick?" Ryan demanded. Seriously, why did he like this guy?
Brendon frowned at him, then stroked himself once, twice, getting hard again - "Already?" Ryan asked, trying to hide how pleased he was - and then he was up, straddling Ryan, crawling up his chest and rubbing his cock against Ryan's lips.
"Apologize," Brendon demanded.
Ryan opened his mouth.
-
"Maybe Spence and Jon can bring us back some food," Brendon said. He was sprawled out on his back with Ryan draped over his chest, dozing against him. It had been a long afternoon.
Ryan stirred, and muttered, "Fuck you, you're getting us room service."
"Me!" He shifted beneath Ryan, and the movement made Ryan twitch and gasp. Brendon still had two fingers in his ass, keeping him open and stretched, occasionally curling them just to make Ryan squirm.
"I gave you my ass all afternoon," Ryan said peaceably. "You can buy me a damn burger."
"I gave you my dick," Brendon pointed out.
Ryan propped himself up a bit so he could look Brendon in the eye. Surely Brendon was joking. Ryan could get dick easily. He already had Spencer, even. Brendon just wriggled his fingers in Ryan's ass, and Ryan's skeptical look slipped away as he slid his eyes shut, shifting gently back onto Brendon's fingers. Nice. God, that was nice.
Brendon gave him an innocent look, and Ryan sighed, laying back down, defeated.
"I'm hungry," he said, pitiful, mouthing at Brendon's chest.
"Fuck," Brendon sighed. "Fine."
Ryan grinned, and licked Brendon's nipple in appreciation.
-
They were bathing, Ryan between Brendon's legs, leaning against his chest and sinking into in the warm water, eyes closed. Spencer and Jon would be back soon, and the room service veggie burgers had been perfect. Ryan grinned, turning his face up for a kiss, sated, Brendon lazily stroking him under the water, his own erection nudging against Ryan's back, and Brendon obliged, grinning against his lips. It was amazing Brendon was staying still this long, honestly, but Ryan had insisted that after an entire day of sex, they both needed a bath (Brendon liked it, he said, pressing his nose to Ryan's neck, "You smell like me"; "Yeah, and I'm the dirty one?" Ryan said. "Also, you're a caveman."), and why not economize? Save time and all that. Ryan rubbed happily against Brendon, and Brendon stroked a warm wet hand up his arm, cupping his shoulder.
"So you've wanted to do this for awhile, huh?" Brendon said, and maybe it was Ryan's imagination, but he swore he could feel Brendon's heart beat faster. "I mean, me."
"Mmm," Ryan said. It would maybe be more effective, them having a talk, if Brendon would let go of his dick. Ryan thrust his hips gently upward, pushing his cock through Brendon's fist, and Brendon stroked him harder, obliging.
"I mean," Brendon twisted his wrist a bit, and Ryan wondered distantly if Brendon would fuck him right there, just lift Ryan up and set him back down on his cock, "you wanted to? Before this, whatever?"
"Yeah," Ryan murmured. What could it hurt? Brendon knew he liked him, Brendon liked him too, they liked each other. "Since Jon, I didn't know you were, you know." Ryan pushed up into Brendon's grip pointedly. "A little before, you're just." Ryan bit his lip. "You're so annoying."
Brendon stopped stroking. "You're a sweet talker, Ross."
"I don't know," Ryan murmured. "You're annoyingly irresistible."
Brendon started stroking him again. Success. "You managed to resist for awhile, though."
"Well, I got tired of it." He shifted, Brendon's erection pressing insistently against his back. "Besides, it all worked out, didn't it?"
"If by working out, you mean group sex," Brendon said. He pushed Ryan forward a bit, sliding his fingers down Ryan's spine and working one up inside him, wet.
"Yeah," Ryan gasped. Brendon bit his ear as Ryan pushed up into his fist, and Brendon aimed upward so Ryan came mostly over his own wet chest, then sank back down into the water, hot, empty, sated. "You can fuck me, if you want," Ryan said, and let the discussion slip away as Brendon lifted him, cock pressed up against his entrance, and then pulled him down.
more
Title: That's What He Said (2/3)
Author: Sara
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon/Spencer/Jon, mentions 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 callsigns for reading bits and pieces along the way - the encouragement is always appreciated.
Note: Part two of three, love and thanks again to those of you who commented on part one. Third and final part will be along in a few days, I promise. And feedback is very much appreciated. :)
It wasn't like it had been a particularly long time since Ryan had last been fucked or anything, not like the streak of, "Eighteen years," Brendon used to say in an awed voice after he finally gave it up to his first girlfriend. Sex hadn't actually ever been a very big deal for Ryan, intense but good, certainly not the axis upon which the world turned, like it was for Brendon. Of course, lots of things were a big deal to Brendon, like who got the nicest hotel room, and the DVDs they watched before shows (horror was good because it got adrenaline going, but Brendon always pouted when Ryan tried to put on something depressing, because it messed with Brendon's chi, or his method acting, or whatever excuse Brendon made up that week for why they had to do what he wanted), and who ate the last bowl of Count Chocula. Ryan and Brendon possibly had slightly different approaches to life.
So Ryan had had a fair amount of sex, he thought, enough to be comfortable but not slutty or anything. It was good, meaningful sex that furthered the relationship, and when he broke up with his high school girlfriend, he maybe jerked off a little more than before, but not too much.
Then Ryan got fucked by Pete Wentz.
-
"Please fuck me," Ryan said, pressing his forehead to the shower wall, wet and overheated and ready now, right now. "Please."
"Oh god, Ry," Spencer murmured, and pushed his fingers deeper into Ryan's ass, twisting three in, slipping on Ryan's wet skin and pressing closer, getting them both under the angled hot spray of water.
"Please," Ryan repeated, really not above begging at this point. Or ever. But especially now.
The thing was - the thing was, Ryan had entertained vague thoughts of sex with Spencer, first time sex, because it was a big deal, a huge deal, they'd been best friends since they were five and that wasn't something that could just be thrown away on a cheap fuck. But also, it was him and Spencer, and although Ryan was actually comfortable with cheap sex, he knew that no matter where he and Spencer fucked, it wouldn't be like that, at all.
At all, which was why it was really important that Spencer fuck him right now, in the shower, as Brendon got dressed in the room, or probably jumped up and down on the bed like he did sometimes, thinking that they didn't know about it, probably doing backflips and cracking his idiot head on the ceiling, which was fine so long as he didn't come in and interrupt.
Spencer was still fingering him, thrusting three in and out, which felt fantastic, actually, but it had been approximately three months since Pete decided that he and Ryan should stop fucking and Ryan was really ready for Spencer to fuck him five minutes ago.
"I swear, Spence," Ryan said, "If you don't fuck me I'll," and then Spencer paused, and Ryan could feel Spencer smiling against the back of his neck.
"What?" Spencer asked. "You'll what?"
"Cry," Ryan said definitively, because Spencer hated it when Ryan cried; he couldn't stand the sight of Ryan crying, and usually started himself, and then Brendon would find them clutching each other in tears because Ryan watched The Notebook again.
"You suck," Spencer said, but then he was pulling his fingers out, lining up and pushing forward and oh yeah, emotional manipulation was great fun for Ryan, but still a distant second to the feeling of a dick in his ass. "Oh god," Spencer groaned, leaning in, pressing his forehead to Ryan's wet hair, licking at the wet skin at the back of Ryan's neck and then biting down.
Ryan sagged a bit against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut at the pressure, the intensity. He squirmed back, taking Spencer in deeper, and Spencer clutched at his hips, digging his fingers in, trying to control the pace but Ryan needed him inside now, deep as he could go, filling Ryan completely. Ryan licked his lips, sliding a hand down to his cock, caught up in the feeling of hot water and Spencer, wanting, wanting.
"Can you just-" Spencer started, but Ryan shook his head, grasping Spencer's side and pulling him closer, struggling for words, needing Spencer to understand, but Spencer knew how much he loved it, he'd told Spencer all about Pete fucking him for the first time, the burn of it, the stretch, how Pete hadn't let up and how goddamned good it had felt, he knew Ryan needed it -
"Hard," Ryan gasped, "Fuck, Spencer, I need it hard," and Spencer muttered, "Fuck," and grabbed his wrists, Ryan unable to avoid the whine when Spencer made him release his cock, but then Spencer had him in place, hands to the wall, gripping him, holding him there. Spencer pulled out and slammed back in, and Ryan choked, arching backwards, his spine bowing as Spencer thrust in again, rough, again, hard, again, deep, and Ryan moaned loud before Spencer murmured, "Shh," and bit his earlobe, but he was fucking Ryan perfectly, god, how was Ryan supposed to be quiet?
"You want Brendon to come in?" Spencer asked, and Ryan jerked in Spencer's grip, his hips twitching forward involuntarily. He hadn't been thinking about Brendon, even, and no, that probably wasn't how Spencer meant it, no, definitely not, judging by how Spencer released one of his wrists to flick him in the side, right below his ribs where he was the most ticklish. "Jesus, Ryan, focus," Spencer hissed, and Ryan clenched around him, retaliatory, so the last word trailed off, sibilant, and ended with Spencer licking along the side of his neck and tonguing the sensitive spot behind his ear where Spencer knew he liked to be touched.
Ryan really wasn't getting an adequate amount of friction from the wall, but when he snuck his hand back down to grasp his cock Spencer smacked his hand away, taking Ryan's cock himself and squeezing a little too hard, so Ryan gasped and shifted backwards, away from Spencer's grip and back onto his cock, which was just about perfect, even if he was suddenly sad he couldn't see Spencer's face. They'd make out later, he promised himself, once they had time, when Ryan hadn't just been forced to sit and have a Danish, the lemon one nobody else wanted, and eat for fifteen minutes with a raging hard-on that had then caused him to grab Spencer bodily when Spencer came into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and threaten to drag him into the shower with his clothes on if he didn't strip right then and get in with Ryan.
"Come on, Ry," Spencer said, stroking him a little more softly, and it could have been encouraging, it could have been that he just really wanted to make Ryan come, hell, it could have been that they had to go in ten minutes and Ryan was taking too long to get off; whatever, it was Spencer, and he pushed deep and Ryan came over Spencer's fist, moaning his name, letting Spencer fuck him through it until Spencer thrust in hard and came too.
They stood there for a few minutes, panting, until Spencer pulled out of Ryan with a groan and Ryan shuffled around for a kiss, feeling that pleasant ache and blissfully unconcerned with the fact that he'd probably be hobbling a bit for the next few hours. It hurt, it felt great. He grinned against Spencer's lips and Spencer said, "Seriously, that's all I have to do to keep you happy? You couldn't have told me this before?"
"Come on, we have to get going," Ryan said, still impossibly pleased, and manhandled Spencer around so they could get all cleaned up and get out.
"This is all I'm good for now," Spencer said, mournful, and Ryan murmured, "Mm-hmm," against his cheek, and ran the washcloth down Spencer's stomach, groping his cock companionably and making Spencer grunt and inch backwards, letting Ryan kiss him and get them ready for the day.
-
"Spencer fucked you in the shower, didn't he?" Brendon hissed.
"God, Brendon," Ryan said. Brendon had him cornered, at the venue, completely in Ryan's space, and it was hard to focus on the fact of Brendon being a pushy, nosy jerk when he was two inches away and Ryan couldn't stop thinking about Brendon's mouth on his that morning, Brendon's dick pressed against his hip. "Maybe," Ryan finished lamely.
Brendon crossed his arms. "What are you doing with him? Are you guys together now?"
"I was making out with you this morning, you idiot," Ryan said, "what do you think?"
"I think he fucked you in the shower."
"What, and you and Jon haven't fucked today? Is that what's making you crabby?" Ryan frowned at him, then paused. "Wait, he's not really freaked or anything, is he?"
"Maybe I'm really freaked," Brendon started, but then Spencer came around the corner, stopping when he saw them and raising an eyebrow.
"What's going on?" Spencer asked. His hand slipped around Ryan's waist, coiling around him and pulling him in. Ryan didn't even realize it was happening until Spencer pressed a kiss to his cheek. He grinned at Ryan. "This guy bothering you?"
"Not really anymore than usual," Ryan said.
"If Jon breaks up with me, I'm joining you," Brendon promised, and then huffed off toward the dressing rooms.
"What if he doesn't?" Spencer asked, and Ryan said, "Hmm."
-
Probably, Ryan thought as he listened to Jon sucking Brendon's cock in the bathroom stall, probably they wouldn't be breaking up anytime soon.
All Ryan had wanted was to wash his hands after William spilled a cup of wine on him (and no, William licking his fingers off had not been an acceptable alternative; Ryan licking it off himself, "Slowly," William said, leering, hadn't been acceptable either), but when he'd walked into the bathroom next to the dressing room, he'd been welcomed by the sound of Brendon gasping and the sight of a pair of jean-clad knees between Brendon's spread legs.
"Seriously," Ryan said over the sound of running water, "seriously, the bathroom? It might not have been me, you know."
Brendon moaned. Ryan rolled his eyes.
"Also, we're on in like, half an hour, so if you guys could hurry it up," Ryan continued, well aware he was just being mean now, but come on, a (more or less) public bathroom? Really?
"Well if someone would just finger my ass," Brendon said, and Ryan heard a small slap, like maybe Jon had smacked Brendon on the hip like he deserved.
Jon said, "Well maybe if you could spread your legs a little better in those pants."
"You like my tight pants, shut up," Brendon said. "Oh god yeah, right there."
"Okay, well," Ryan said loudly, shaking the water off his hands and definitely not thinking about sucking Brendon's cock himself. "I'm just gonna go now, so have a nice blowjob and everything."
"It would be faster if, oh god," Brendon said, and Ryan was probably imagining the sound of his balls hitting Jon's chin, god, could Jon deepthroat? "If you helped."
"Hey," Jon said.
"Not that you aren't doing a good job," Brendon added quickly, and Ryan rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying, if you both wanted to suck my dick," he said, raising his voice for Ryan's benefit, "that'd be cool."
Ryan left the bathroom.
-
"We have to do something about Brendon," Ryan said, agitated, taking Spencer's arm and dragging him into the corner of the dressing room.
Spencer nodded. "Fuck him."
"What?"
"You don't think it would work?" Spencer asked.
"Work how?" Ryan blinked. "What do you think we're trying to accomplish?"
"If he was sucking my dick, he wouldn't be able to talk," Spencer said contemplatively.
Ryan wasn't sure when this conversation had gotten away from him.
"Which would be good," Spencer continued, "because then we wouldn't have to listen."
"How are you supposed to fuck me if Brendon's sucking your dick?" Ryan asked, because really, couldn't he have something nice for like a day without Brendon nosing his way into it?
It was around this point that Ryan noticed William insinuating himself closer.
-
"William just asked me if he was invited to the orgy," Jon said, following Brendon onto the bus after the show.
"Huh." Ryan didn't look up from the video game he was playing with Brent, not even when Brendon brushed his knuckles over the back of Ryan's neck. "That is so random."
"Could you guys not have an orgy on the bus?" Brent said, after a minute.
"Where are we supposed to have it?" Brendon asked, honestly perplexed. His hand tightened on Ryan's neck, a warm grip, and it was a serious effort for Ryan to not just drop right there and beg.
"I'm going to go call my girlfriend," Brent announced, and retreated to his bunk.
Ryan paused the game. Brendon was rubbing his neck now, slow and hot. "So," Ryan said.
"I knew you were in love with me," Brendon said, grinning.
"Oh for god's sake." Ryan ducked out of his grip, tossing the controller on the ground and shifting around on the couch so he could lie face down and pretend Brendon didn't exist. Jon came around and sat down on the floor in front of him, patting Ryan on the shoulder. Ryan murmured appreciatively. Jon was nice. Ryan thought about him sucking Brendon's cock again.
"Wait, are you in love with Spencer?" Brendon asked. The trouble with guys like Brendon was that they were skinny little fuckers that could easily fit with you on a couch, even when you were sprawling. Brendon clambered over, lying insistently on Ryan until Ryan grunted and shifted, moving enough to let Brendon slide between his back and the couch cushions. Brendon immediately snuggled in, slinging an arm around Ryan's waist and offering, "You can be in love with Jon, I don't mind. He's a really good fuck."
"I'm not-" Ryan started, but then the door back to the bunks opened and Spencer made it half a step in before stopping and raising an eyebrow.
"Brent said to tell you guys not to have an orgy up here," Spencer said, shutting the door behind him. Brendon made an interested noise, thrusting a little against Ryan's ass, and Ryan's huffed out sigh turned into an embarrassing squeak. "Too late?" Spencer asked.
"We're snuggling," Brendon said, his hand sliding down Ryan's stomach. Ryan cracked one eye open. Jon grinned at him and ruffled his hair.
"Snuggling, right," Spencer said. Ryan understood the basis of his skepticism, as Brendon's fingertips were currently pushing past his waistband. "So what is this, free for all?"
"Please, I don't come cheap," Brendon boasted.
"Wow, that's a lie," Jon said. Gosh, Ryan liked Jon a lot.
Spencer watched, looking torn between joining and telling them to quit. Ryan tried not to squirm too much, but Brendon's hand had slipped lower, mercifully atop his jeans but sliding along the outline of his cock, making Ryan bite his lip and press his face into the couch cushions, Brendon breathing hot at the back of his neck, and this was going to become an issue really quickly if Brendon didn't stop, in that Ryan was going to shove his own pants down and beg Brendon to fuck him. And no one wanted to see that. Except for Brendon, and maybe Spencer. Ryan chanced a look at Jon. Okay, Jon maybe wouldn't mind either.
"I-," Ryan started, but then the door pushed open and Brent knocked into Spencer, still standing there. Brendon yanked his hand away from Ryan's dick so fast he might have gotten friction burn from Ryan's jeans.
"Oh," Brent said, blinking.
"Hey Brent," Jon said. This was probably easy for him because he wasn't all flushed and obviously hard like Ryan was, with Brendon still behind him, squirming a bit.
"Um, hey." Brent looked to Spencer. "I didn't know you guys were actually, like. What's going on?"
Ryan buried his face in the couch cushions, trying to disappear. The last time he'd really discussed sex with Brent they'd been twelve, and Brent had been showing off his dad's stash of old Playboy magazines. All Ryan remembered of them was that the girls' makeup had been awful.
"Snuggling," Brendon said, less confident this time.
"Nothing." Spencer walked over, sitting down next to Jon. "We were just gonna watch a movie."
Brendon nudged at Ryan until Ryan sat up, although not before elbowing Brendon in the gut and making him give a pitiful, "ow."
-
"Hey," Ryan whispered, crawling into Spencer's bunk. "So."
In the bunk above them, Brent shifted. Spencer raised an eyebrow.
"Did you want to, um," Ryan started, settling between Spencer and the wall. It seemed an appropriate moment for a hand gesture but god, no.
"We probably shouldn't," Spencer said. Ryan squirmed, pushing his erection against Spencer's hip, and Spencer wormed his hand down between them, palming Ryan's dick through his boxers and squeezing. "Hey, quit."
Ryan bit his lip, thrusting into Spencer's grip. Sometimes Spencer's ideas weren't so effective. "Brendon and Jon get to," Ryan said, and if it edged dangerously close to a whine, then at least Spencer was kind enough not to comment on it.
"That's because they're in the lounge, and they will never, ever tell us what they did there and exactly where," Spencer said. Ryan bit his lip, thrusting plaintively against Spencer's cupped palm. Spencer gave him a long-suffering look, and Ryan nuzzled his neck. "Christ," Spencer swore, and Ryan grinned, licking at his collarbone and wiggling as Spencer pushed his boxers down, finally getting a good grip on him. "I'm not doing acrobatics in here to fuck you."
"Finger me," Ryan murmured, "and I'll blow you."
"Fine," Spencer said after a moment, a little weakly, and the way his voice hitched when Ryan trailed fingers down his side made Ryan want, suddenly, terribly, to see Spencer come, like he hadn't gotten to in the shower, as good as that had felt. He tugged at Spencer's pajama bottoms, getting them down past his hips, down to his thighs and there was his cock, flushed and hard as Ryan ducked down, folding himself up to fit. He couldn't help but lick his lips, already leaning in so his tongue caught the tip and Spencer moaned aloud, then covered his mouth. Ryan raised an eyebrow, and Spencer mouthed, "Brent."
Brent had been falling asleep with his headphones on for most of the tour, a practice he got into when they were still stuck in a van. He still was, as far as Ryan knew, but Ryan put his finger to his lips anyway, shushing Spencer and making him roll his eyes, until Ryan mouthed at the head of his cock and Spencer's head fell back, his hips arching up, pushing into Ryan's mouth as Ryan sank down, taking him in inch by inch.
He had to look, he couldn't help but look, fingers nudging under Spencer's t-shirt, pushing it up until Spencer squirmed out of it. Ryan grinned as best he could, sucking gratefully at Spencer's cock as he ran his fingertips down Spencer's chest, pale and unexpectedly pretty; Spencer was biting his lip, back arching as Ryan took him deeper, thumbed the soft edge of his ribcage, wanting to set his teeth to the white curve of Spencer's throat and bite down. "Ry," Spencer whispered, fumbling for Ryan's hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing. Ryan closed his eyes and slid down as far as he could go.
Spencer's hips jerked, and Ryan choked a bit, backing off. Spencer tightened his grip on Ryan's hand in apology, and Ryan stroked his thigh, blinking up at Spencer as he watched Spencer watch him, pulling off to lick at the head of Spencer's cock, holding onto the base and letting Spencer thrust up into his grip. His thoughts whirled, tangled up, tripping from memory to memory - Spencer's house, down the street from his, where he'd stayed so many nights 'til late, tripping and skinning his knee in the driveway when he was six, tears welling up and Spencer crying too, wringing his hands as Spencer's mom fussed over them. Spencer kissed Ryan's cheek afterwards, fretful, telling him it'd be okay, and maybe this was a stupid time to think of that, but it was Spencer, and Spencer had been so much to him for so long, and now he was more.
Ryan nuzzled Spencer's thigh, licking at the crease and making Spencer twitch, releasing Ryan's hand to slide it into his hair, holding him there,
and Ryan rubbed his cheek against Spencer's palm, taking Spencer in again, letting Spencer guide him, letting Spencer thrust gently up, sucking hard, working his tongue as best he could with Spencer's cock pushing into his throat, wishing so badly that Spencer was fucking him. Ryan pulled off, licking along the underside and murmuring, "You close?" Spencer nodded, and Ryan lowered his mouth, stroking his tongue over the base of Spencer's cock, slowly fisting his cock until Spencer bit his lip, arched up and came, Ryan letting himself taste just a little, just enough to make his mouth water. The rest he let streak Spencer's hips and stomach, glistening white, and when Spencer settled, shifting in Ryan's grip, Ryan crawled up Spencer's body and kissed him hard.
"I want your fingers," Ryan said, moving his lips over Spencer's neck, aiming for requesting and arriving at demanding.
"Fuck, you're," Spencer started, but then seemed to think better of it, stroking his knuckles over Ryan's stomach until Ryan lifted to let him free, then rubbing his fingers over Ryan's lips. Ryan shook his head. "What?" Spencer asked, and Ryan took his hand, guiding it down Spencer's stomach until Spencer's fingers were wet with his own come. Spencer's eyes narrowed, and Ryan pushed his cock against Spencer's hip as Spencer ran his fingers through the mess until they were wet enough, slick. "Spread your legs," Spencer whispered. Ryan tried not to moan out loud.
Tried, but failed, because Spencer was sliding his hand around, fitting his fingers between Ryan's cheeks and stroking him, getting him wet until Ryan was squirming, rubbing up against Spencer's side, needy, gasping, "Please," against Spencer's neck and biting down vengefully when Spencer didn't immediately push his fingers in.
"Hey!" Spencer whispered, testy, and Ryan raised his ass, trying to get Spencer's fingers in, mouthing at Spencer's throat and going willingly when Spencer dragged him closer, half on top of him, Spencer shoving his thigh between Ryan's and lightly smacking his ass with his other hand, grabbing one cheek and spreading him, then thrusting a finger inside. Ryan twitched, then wriggled backwards, Spencer muttering, "Goddamned greedy," before worming another finger into Ryan's ass, wet, aching faintly when Spencer twisted his fingers deep (it had been so long since he'd had this regularly, god), perfectly, just enough to remind Ryan how much he loved this, needed it, needed Spencer.
"Three," Ryan murmured, "Please, I," but Spencer didn't say anything this time, just worked a third finger in, opening Ryan up, getting inside him as Ryan panted against his collarbone, thrusting his ass back shamelessly onto Spencer's fingers. Spencer slid his other hand back up along Ryan's side, curling into his hair and tugging Ryan's head back so they could kiss, sloppy, Ryan mostly just pressing close and letting Spencer lick into his mouth, letting himself be kissed, fingerfucked, shifting against Spencer as Spencer worked his fingers in and out and Ryan rubbed up against his stomach, warm and still a little slick with come.
It surprised Ryan when he came, Spencer biting his lower lip and pushing his fingers deep, kissing and stroking Ryan through it, close and warm until Ryan eased off of him, sliding down to lick his come off of Spencer's belly, cleaning him up, leaving grateful kisses on the soft skin of waist, his hips. He settled against Spencer, after, rubbing his thumb over Spencer's collarbone, murmuring thanks as Spencer ruffled his hair.
"So, Jon and Brendon," Spencer said, and Ryan was pretty sure he didn't mean the fact of them, that they existed, but it was late and he was sleepy.
"I dunno," Ryan murmured. "Let's sleep, okay?"
"'Kay," Spencer said, and kissed his forehead.
His face pressed to Spencer's shoulder, Ryan smiled.
-
"Me and Jon want to fuck you," Brendon said the next morning.
Ryan blinked, momentarily suspended as Brendon continued to eat his way through a frosted Pop-Tart, then lowered his spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios.
"Actually," Brendon frowned, "I think Jon wants to fuck Spencer."
There was a crumb of Pop-Tart clinging to Brendon's lower lip. Ryan was mildly interested in licking it off, if only because it would make Brendon stop talking.
"Kinda, you know," Brendon squinted, "like a wife swap." He finished his Pop-Tart, munching contentedly on the last few bites, then flicking the crumbs off his fingertips and onto the table. "I think you and I would be the wives. But then we could try it the other way, too."
"You and Spencer?" Ryan said, finally locating his voice.
"Sure." Brendon shrugged.
Spencer wandered out from back, hair mussed and bleary-eyed.
"You wanna make out?" Brendon asked him.
"You wanna suck my dick?" Spencer asked, shuffling through the basketful of Brendon's weird imported teas before pulling out a red packet and flinging it at Brendon's head. Brendon blocked it, barely; it landed on Ryan's side of the table, label side up. Erotic Passion. Ryan hadn't been aware there were teas for things like that. "Where the fuck is my instant coffee?"
"I'm a really good kisser," Brendon told him. "You're missing out."
"I thought you were a really good cocksucker, too," Ryan said, immediately regretting it.
Brendon grinned widely. "Word gets around, huh?"
"No, that's what you told us," Spencer said, "did I mention where the fuck is my coffee?"
"You can have one of my Red Bulls," Brendon said, and Spencer looked at him sideways. Brendon guarded his Red Bulls with more ferocity than some wild animals guarded their children. Maybe Brendon really did want in Spencer's pants.
After a moment, Spencer said, "Okay." Brendon beamed.
-
"I think I'm going to fuck you on your back," Brendon said.
Ryan paused in the middle of tying his shoelaces. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.
"At least, the first time," Brendon mused. "Because I'll wanna look at you." He looked over at Ryan until Ryan looked back. "I wanna see you come."
"Yeah?" Ryan said. His voice wavered a bit, and he cleared his throat.
"Yeah. Just you and me, you know? Spencer and Jon can go shopping or something. Just give us an afternoon, a hotel room. I want to come on you, would you let me?"
Ryan swallowed, his eyes slipping shut. He nodded.
"Pull out and come on your stomach, maybe your chest." Brendon reached out, stroking Ryan's face. "All over you. Then fuck you again. You'll be so sore, you won't even be able to move without thinking of me inside you. You want that?"
Ryan nodded again, mindless, leaning into Brendon's palm.
Brendon whispered, "Good," and leaned in, kissing his cheek, his jaw, the corner of Ryan's mouth. Ryan shifted, trying to catch his lips, and next to them, someone coughed.
"We need to head into the venue," Brent said, looking awkward. Ryan blinked. He hadn't even noticed the bus stopping.
"Ryan just needs to get his shoes on," Brendon said, and clapped Brent on the shoulder. He grinned at Ryan, said, "Come on," and followed Brent off the bus.
Ryan stared in despair at his erection. "I'll be there in a minute," he said as the door slammed shut behind them.
-
"Brendon is a fucking cocktease," Ryan muttered at Spencer as they dressed for the show.
"Seriously," William groused, and honestly, as soon as humanly possibly Ryan promised himself they'd get their own damn headlining tour and not have to share dressing rooms anymore, please. "And with that ass? He needs it hard, man."
"You need it hard," Spencer told him, ignoring Ryan's wide eyes and frantic 'no, no, don't engage!' hand motions.
"Are you propositioning me?" William demanded. "Because that's fucking hot, come here."
Spencer backed up, realizing his mistake, and if he thought he could hide behind Ryan he was sorely mistaken, and not only because it was like trying to hide behind a flagpole, or a sapling.
"Bill, you're scaring him," Butcher said mildly, looking up from his book. He was already dressed for the show, which meant pink booty shorts and tattoos, and he didn't even have to put those on. Whenever Ryan thought about getting tattooed, he ended up briefly entertaining getting some Fall Out Boy lyrics somewhere, maybe on his hip (but then Pete would probably get embarrassed and try and cover them up whenever they fucked, or worse, get overexcited and try and come on them or something, which actually might be sort of hot - huh), but then he thought about how easily he bruised, and had horrific fantasies of the needle striking bone, cursive through to the marrow, and he loved Pete's words, but maybe not that much.
"I'm not scared," Spencer said, but he was still edging behind Ryan. Ryan patted his hip, going for comfort but getting distracted by how soft Spencer's skin was.
"Why not?" William demanded.
"Seriously?" Spencer asked, looking William up and down, and Ryan said loudly, "Hey, so we're gonna get ready now."
"You guys almost ready?" Brendon said, oblivious as he came toward them, accidentally knocking into Mike and making an apologetic kissy-face at him. Mike rolled his eyes.
"Ryan said you're a cocktease," William told Brendon.
"Really," Brendon said, staring at Ryan, and somehow Spencer curling his hand protectively around Ryan's waist felt more like a cruel tease than anything. "I could fix that right now, if you want."
-
"So Brendon wants to fuck me," Ryan said, hands clenched on the edge of the table he was leaning against as Spencer licked his cock.
"You really wanna talk about this now?" Spencer asked. He pushed another finger into Ryan's ass, and Ryan moaned.
"Well," Ryan said, then lost his train of thought as Spencer stroked his balls with his thumb.
"You want him to fuck you, right?" Spencer leaned in, fisting Ryan's cock a few times, lapping at the head.
Ryan's head lolled back; it was still stupidly surreal that Spencer was doing this, those same blue eyes he'd been looking into most of his life now looking up at him, Spencer's mouth stretched around his cock, god. Ryan forgot the question.
"I don't mind if you do," Spencer said, pulling off to focus on fingering him, three inside, stretching him, pushing him back and holding him up by his thighs as Ryan's knees buckled. "Figure it out, whatever."
"Yeah?" Ryan gasped, throwing in just enough of an interrogative twist at the end to make it a question.
"Yeah," Spencer said, eyes dark, "as long as you let me fuck you after."
Ryan shuddered, pushing back onto Spencer's fingers as Spencer grasped his cock, and Spencer closed his eyes as Ryan came on his face.
Ryan couldn't help it, he slid downwards, tilting forward so he landed on his knees, awkwardly straddling Spencer with his pants still pushed to his thighs. Spencer looked at him, and Ryan leaned in, licking his come off Spencer's cheeks, kissing it wetly off his chin, his lips, biting at Spencer's lower lip and then kissing Spencer hard enough that Spencer had to put his hands behind them on the floor, bracing them up.
"Fuck," Ryan said, when they broke apart, and maybe it was the room's weird acoustics, an unused back room in the venue, but Ryan could have sworn it echoed, like someone else said it too. When he glanced at the door, it was cracked open, just a bit (he knew they'd closed it), and he saw a flash of someone's foot, someone in - oh fuck, flip flops. "What the - was that -"
Spencer's mouth twitched up at the corners, slow, feline. There was still a smear of come on his cheek.
-
"Jon and I are going to wander around Boise on Sunday," Spencer said to Ryan, as they lounged on the couch, reading and occasionally poking each with their socked feet.
"So I can fuck you at the hotel," Brendon finished, not looking up from his fierce one-man battle with Halo 2. Spencer sighed heavily, and Brendon paused and glanced up at him. "What? That's the plan!"
Ryan wanted to be at least mildly offended - what, they were planning his sex life without him now? What was that? - but then Brendon dropped the controller and twisted around, winding himself up Ryan's legs like an affectionate cat until his head was leaning on Ryan's thigh.
"You okay with that plan, Ross?" Brendon asked, mouthing at his inner thigh through his jeans, and Ryan tried to be huffy, but god, Brendon's hot mouth, fuck denim, Ryan hated it, denim and every day between now and Sunday.
"That's fine," Ryan said, resisting the urge to stroke Brendon's face, touch his hair, push fingers into Brendon's mouth and let him suck them wet, then nudge Brendon off, lift his hips and finger his own ass until Brendon told him to roll over, fuck.
"Did you just want me to surprise him with it, or what?" Brendon demanded, turning to Spencer, who rolled his eyes.
"You could at least have had a little class about it," Spencer told him, and Brendon braced himself on Ryan's thighs, crawling up Ryan's body and straddling him for an entirely unnecessary and thrilling moment before climbing onto Spencer. "Hey, hey," Spencer said, trying to bat him away, but Brendon just leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth, nudging him downwards until Spencer was pressed to the arm of the couch, huffing out a sigh but kissing him back, squirming under him, his hands fisting in Brendon's t-shirt.
Ryan watched, mouth dropped open, wanting to lean around and get a better view, but afraid he'd jostle them and they'd stop, and that would suck because god, Spencer was making noises. Ryan craned his neck up, their entangled legs in his lap a wretched hindrance and oh fuck, Brendon was kissing Spencer's throat, wet little kisses that made Ryan bite his lip, jealous.
He must have made a sound, strangled, because Brendon pulled off, panting a little, and lifted himself up off of Spencer, then slithered back to the floor. Spencer swallowed and sat back up, straightening his clothes.
"So, quit bitching," Brendon said, as if concluding a thought, but he was a little breathless about it, cheeks flushed as he started up his game again, and Spencer just mumbled his assent and went back to concentrating very hard on his book. (Ryan paid attention. Spencer didn't turn a page for the next twenty minutes.)
-
"Jon's cool with this, right?" Ryan said, hands slipping against the back of the hotel room door, needing something to hold onto as Brendon licked his throat, bit down, sucked hard; Brendon groped his thigh helpfully, propping him up, whispered, "He's," then tugged Ryan's earlobe between his teeth, "He's fine, it's cool, come to bed," and it would have been easier, maybe, without Brendon pressing him to the door. Ryan just wanted to get his legs around Brendon's waist, flat on his back so Brendon could fuck him hard, so he could see Brendon's face, god, he wanted it so bad.
Brendon pulled him forward, away from the door and to the bed, and Ryan went willingly, falling backwards onto the bed and moving back, kicking his shoes off and shrugging off his jacket, Brendon pulling his own shirt off and going to work on Ryan's pants, fast, overwhelming. Ryan moaned, "God, Brendon, please," slower, he wanted to say, but then Brendon looked up at him, his breath hot against Ryan's stomach, and what Ryan had meant to say crumbled and disappeared. "I need it," he finished, lifting his hips so Brendon could get his pants off.
"Need it, you need me," Brendon said, asked, and Ryan agreed, "You, please, fuck me," twisting his way out of his shirt until he was naked under Brendon, marked here and there by Spencer's need (thin skin, Spencer knew how easily he bruised but he couldn't help but grip Ryan's hips, hold him still, hold him down) and wanting Brendon's, too, needing Brendon's mark on him, something tangible, something he could see, touch. Brendon's eyes fluttered shut, and he closed his teeth over the curve of Ryan's hipbone, groping for Ryan's cock and then curling his fingers around it, and Ryan fought a moan and lost, tilting his head back, on the verge of begging already.
"I'll go slow," Brendon mumbled, nuzzling Ryan's hip, and Ryan's heart skipped, "later."
Ryan nodded, and Brendon pushed his thighs apart, Ryan arching helpfully up, baring himself to Brendon and Brendon leaned in, stroking his tongue behind Ryan's balls, further back.
"Fuck," Ryan whispered, helpless as Brendon parted his cheeks, licked between, sucked his fingers wet and then pushed one inside Ryan, two, thrusting them in and out, wet with spit but nothing else, stretching him, spreading him open.
(Spencer had fucked him that morning, crammed in his bunk, Ryan on his hands and knees as Spencer whispered to him, telling him how good he was, how nicely he took it, how much Spencer loved fucking him and how much Brendon would love fucking him, too. Ryan had whimpered, pushing his ass back, begging for it harder but Spencer just bent him low, said he didn't want to wear Ryan out for Brendon, that wouldn't be nice, and he'd fuck Ryan as hard as he wanted later, until Ryan couldn't think of anything but being fucked, anything but them.)
Brendon worked his fingers in and out of Ryan's ass, licking around them, tongue pushing in a bit, stroking inside, and Ryan swore he would lose his mind from this, just from Brendon, fuck, calling up the faintest ache from Spencer already having him earlier, but all it did was make Ryan need it more. It just reminded Ryan how empty he was with just two fingers, wrong without a cock filling him up, without Brendon inside, "Please," Ryan gasped, so terrifyingly needy but maybe Brendon needed it like this too, maybe he needed to be inside Ryan as badly as Ryan needed him there, hot, hard, everything he'd ever wanted.
Brendon pulled his fingers free, moved up Ryan's body, pushing Ryan's legs to his chest and nudging his cock close, right where Ryan wanted it, and oh fuck, Ryan could hardly believe he was here, Brendon looking down at him, eyes desperate, voice cracking when he said, "Ry," and bent Ryan double so he could kiss him, fierce, sloppy, Ryan wrapping his legs high around Brendon's waist and trying to pull him closer, pull him in.
He stayed there for a second, the head of his cock pressing right up to Ryan's ass, almost there, and Ryan whined, couldn't stop himself, arching up to get just the tip inside; Brendon groaned and pushed forward, burying his face in Ryan's neck and his dick in Ryan's ass.
"God, you," Brendon whispered, "so tight, fuck," and Ryan clenched down on him, tangling his fingers in Brendon's hair, tugging his head back so they could kiss again, and Ryan bit Brendon's lower lip, hard.
Brendon drew back, injured, licking his swollen lip, and Ryan snarled, "Move," thrusting back as best he could with Brendon already so deep in him.
"Needy little bitch," Brendon said, his expression shifting to determination, and he pulled out, shrugging free of Ryan's grip and grabbing his wrists before Ryan could really stop him, and then Ryan was blinking up at Brendon, pinned to the bed now, wrists to the mattress with Brendon on top of him. It occurred to Ryan that he may have made a tactical error.
"Please," Ryan said in a small voice.
Brendon's grip tightened on his wrists, and for a terrible second Ryan thought it might be torturously slow like this, but then Brendon slammed his hips forward, driving his cock into Ryan's ass, and Ryan nearly howled.
It wasn't going to last long, not with Brendon pounding him like that, holding him there, fucking him hard, fucking him open. Brendon watched him, his eyes on Ryan's, staring down like Ryan had a secret Brendon desperately needed to know, like all he could do was fuck it out of him, thrust by thrust, rough and unceasing. Ryan gasped for breath under him, spread wide, taking each thrust, each glancing brush of Brendon's stomach against his hard cock, and god, all he wanted was for Brendon to touch him, just once, just grasp his cock and let him come, and then he'd lie back and let Brendon have him.
Ryan whimpered when Brendon gripped him hard, feeling his bones shift and protest and the feel of it, the pressure, knowing he'd bruise, made Ryan jerk up just as Brendon's cock struck him inside right at that spot; Brendon's stomach rubbed against his cock, hardly any pressure at all and Ryan came, hard, Brendon grinding his cock in deep and staring into Ryan's eyes as Ryan gasped and moaned his name.
"Oh fuck," Ryan said, head lolling to the side, going limp in Brendon's hold. Brendon released his wrists and took hold of his hips, bringing them up at a better angle for him to keep thrusting as Ryan rode out the last of it, trembling a little, overwhelmed by the force of his orgasm, of Brendon. He knew, he knew it would be good like this, him and Brendon, it couldn't have been anything but, and now Brendon was dragging his fingers through Ryan's come, licking it off his fingertips, and Ryan shuddered, wanting Brendon's mouth on him, wanting Brendon to keep fucking him and never stop.
Ryan tightened around him, clenching his ass and making Brendon groan and push deep, stay there, shoulders shaking as he came deep inside of Ryan, and when Ryan felt how Brendon was trembling he opened his arms and let Brendon fall into him, shifting a bit when Brendon pulled out, curled up against Ryan's chest and breathed.
"God," Ryan whispered, finally breaking the silence.
"Fuck," Brendon said, sounding awed. Ryan laughed a little, and Brendon rolled them over, pulling Ryan on top of him. "Let's do that again."
-
Ryan bounced up and down on Brendon's cock, hands braced on his chest as Brendon held onto his hips, thrusting up and pulling him down hard, so fucking good it made Ryan's eyes roll back. Brendon growling, "Yeah, ride me," wasn't doing much to keep Ryan from coming right there, fuck, he was already so deliciously stretched, almost sore, almost, one more round and he'd really be feeling it. He worked his hips, twisting and grinding down, throwing his head back and moaning like a whore for it; he'd hold himself back, but he didn't want to, Brendon didn't want him to, it felt so good, fuck.
"Thought you wanted to come on me," Ryan panted out, sweating, struggling for breath, so fucking hot he could hardly bear it. He squeezed Brendon's hips with his thighs, keeping Brendon trapped deep inside, sliding his hand back to feel it, the base of Brendon's cock disappearing into his ass, and Brendon gasped at the extra stimulation.
"Think you can let go of my dick for a minute?" Brendon asked, fingers digging into Ryan's thighs. Ryan clenched around him, and Brendon let out a strangled moan, fingernails digging in, red marks on his white thighs. "No?" He grabbed at Ryan's cock, getting a good grip and stroking him, clever little twists of his wrist and the fact of it, Brendon smirking at him, jerking him off while Ryan rode him, god, Ryan didn't stand a chance, jerking forward into Brendon's grip and coming all over his fist. "Now," Brendon said, "get off my dick, Ross."
Ryan lifted off, huffy, thought about biting Brendon's thigh but decided against it and just stroked his cock instead, all slick, crouched between his legs. Brendon grinned at him, and Ryan stroked up, hard, just licking at the tip, enough to make Brendon moan and come, striping Ryan's cheeks as he gripped Brendon's cock. He blinked up at Brendon, after, licked an errant streak of come off Brendon's thigh, quietly wiped his face off with the back of his hand, and then slowly cleaned his hand off with his tongue. Brendon let his head drop back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, and after a moment, Ryan crawled up and joined him, flat on the bed, his knuckles brushing Brendon's but not touching him otherwise.
"You're fucking dirty," Brendon told him, like he couldn't quit believe it, like he wasn't quite surprised.
"You fucking like it," Ryan said, breathless.
-
"God, I'm starving," Ryan groaned. Lying on his stomach after round three, Ryan was really starting to feel it. He needed food, and a nap. Mostly food, though.
Brendon looked sideways at him.
"Not for cock," Ryan said, rolling his eyes.
Brendon looked down his stomach, petting his cock softly. "Don't listen to him. He doesn't mean it."
"Were you just talking to your dick?" Ryan demanded. Seriously, why did he like this guy?
Brendon frowned at him, then stroked himself once, twice, getting hard again - "Already?" Ryan asked, trying to hide how pleased he was - and then he was up, straddling Ryan, crawling up his chest and rubbing his cock against Ryan's lips.
"Apologize," Brendon demanded.
Ryan opened his mouth.
-
"Maybe Spence and Jon can bring us back some food," Brendon said. He was sprawled out on his back with Ryan draped over his chest, dozing against him. It had been a long afternoon.
Ryan stirred, and muttered, "Fuck you, you're getting us room service."
"Me!" He shifted beneath Ryan, and the movement made Ryan twitch and gasp. Brendon still had two fingers in his ass, keeping him open and stretched, occasionally curling them just to make Ryan squirm.
"I gave you my ass all afternoon," Ryan said peaceably. "You can buy me a damn burger."
"I gave you my dick," Brendon pointed out.
Ryan propped himself up a bit so he could look Brendon in the eye. Surely Brendon was joking. Ryan could get dick easily. He already had Spencer, even. Brendon just wriggled his fingers in Ryan's ass, and Ryan's skeptical look slipped away as he slid his eyes shut, shifting gently back onto Brendon's fingers. Nice. God, that was nice.
Brendon gave him an innocent look, and Ryan sighed, laying back down, defeated.
"I'm hungry," he said, pitiful, mouthing at Brendon's chest.
"Fuck," Brendon sighed. "Fine."
Ryan grinned, and licked Brendon's nipple in appreciation.
-
They were bathing, Ryan between Brendon's legs, leaning against his chest and sinking into in the warm water, eyes closed. Spencer and Jon would be back soon, and the room service veggie burgers had been perfect. Ryan grinned, turning his face up for a kiss, sated, Brendon lazily stroking him under the water, his own erection nudging against Ryan's back, and Brendon obliged, grinning against his lips. It was amazing Brendon was staying still this long, honestly, but Ryan had insisted that after an entire day of sex, they both needed a bath (Brendon liked it, he said, pressing his nose to Ryan's neck, "You smell like me"; "Yeah, and I'm the dirty one?" Ryan said. "Also, you're a caveman."), and why not economize? Save time and all that. Ryan rubbed happily against Brendon, and Brendon stroked a warm wet hand up his arm, cupping his shoulder.
"So you've wanted to do this for awhile, huh?" Brendon said, and maybe it was Ryan's imagination, but he swore he could feel Brendon's heart beat faster. "I mean, me."
"Mmm," Ryan said. It would maybe be more effective, them having a talk, if Brendon would let go of his dick. Ryan thrust his hips gently upward, pushing his cock through Brendon's fist, and Brendon stroked him harder, obliging.
"I mean," Brendon twisted his wrist a bit, and Ryan wondered distantly if Brendon would fuck him right there, just lift Ryan up and set him back down on his cock, "you wanted to? Before this, whatever?"
"Yeah," Ryan murmured. What could it hurt? Brendon knew he liked him, Brendon liked him too, they liked each other. "Since Jon, I didn't know you were, you know." Ryan pushed up into Brendon's grip pointedly. "A little before, you're just." Ryan bit his lip. "You're so annoying."
Brendon stopped stroking. "You're a sweet talker, Ross."
"I don't know," Ryan murmured. "You're annoyingly irresistible."
Brendon started stroking him again. Success. "You managed to resist for awhile, though."
"Well, I got tired of it." He shifted, Brendon's erection pressing insistently against his back. "Besides, it all worked out, didn't it?"
"If by working out, you mean group sex," Brendon said. He pushed Ryan forward a bit, sliding his fingers down Ryan's spine and working one up inside him, wet.
"Yeah," Ryan gasped. Brendon bit his ear as Ryan pushed up into his fist, and Brendon aimed upward so Ryan came mostly over his own wet chest, then sank back down into the water, hot, empty, sated. "You can fuck me, if you want," Ryan said, and let the discussion slip away as Brendon lifted him, cock pressed up against his entrance, and then pulled him down.
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