fic: Panic! OT3
You know what? I really love you guys. So I'm going to post the Panic! threesome porn I've been sitting on and halfheartedly editing for a month now.
First public fanfic in over two years, first DYW fic, I'm kind of terrified, please be at least kind of gentle with me, blah blah blah.
If I don't do this now, it'll probably be another week or more or never, so...
Side by Side... by Side
What, you want a summary? I said threesome porn. That should be good enough.
2238 words, NC-17
Disclaimer: Yes, I made it all up.
Automatic point deduction for completely ignoring JWalk. I'm sorry, I wrote it before I joined Team Jon Walker.
It's been bothering Spencer for awhile now.
Tonight, he can't make out any details because the lights are reflecting just right off his cymbals, but he sees enough (his imagination can supply the rest). Brendon shimmying up to Ryan, his voice echoing in distortion around them all, then a press, and a flickerflash of Brendon's mouth against Ryan's neck; the way Ryan's body tenses and then rolls with it. Spencer can't see Ryan's eyes and he's glad because it looks... it's. Something.
Spencer doesn't like it.
Except.
Except okay, maybe he does. Brendon sliding his hand around Ryan's waist and Spencer imagines that pale hand sliding elsewhere on Ryan's body. Brendon hits his knees and yeah, Spencer imagines that, too. Brendon sashays back toward Spencer, eyes dark under his halo of stage lights, and Spencer keeps pounding on his drums.
It makes him kind of sick later, when he's thinking about it. His stomach twists up and blood throbs in his groin and he's queasy and horny and confused as fuck. Because it's Ryan, he's known Ryan since forever. And Ryan used to be his, somehow, was always his, but never like that, and Spencer's not sure he knows that Ryan. He thinks he wants to, though, and the thought makes him shiver. It's kind of weird and it's definitely not fair.
It wasn't always like this (whatever this is). Spencer can't say what's changed between them, exactly, but he knows that something's different now. It's not... it doesn't feel like he was in love with Ryan all along and only just realized it; it doesn't feel like he fell in love with him all of a sudden, either. Hell, he's not even convinced he's in love with Ryan at all, or if. It has something to do with Brendon, he thinks. It has everything to do with Brendon, because Spencer wouldn't have known about that Ryan if it weren't for him. You never see what's right in front of your nose until you have a reason to look, until something new and unexpected waltzes up from the periphery, grinning and draping himself all over your best friend, and it makes you step back, suddenly bringing the whole damn thing into focus.
They say you don't know what you have until it's gone, except nothing's really gone and Spencer misses it anyway.
Ryan smiles at him on the bus the next morning and it is the same smile as always. Then Brendon walks in and the smile shifts, eyes growing smoky and hot and Spencer wants Ryan to look at him like that. Brendon's fingers brush Ryan's shoulder as he falls beside him; Ryan sizzles with it, and ooh, fuck, Spencer wants Brendon to touch him like that.
And in a nutshell, that's the problem.
"Spence?" Ryan's voice says, and Spencer realizes he's been frowning.
"Hey, you okay, man?" Brendon asks, and Spencer meets his eyes, dark, darker (darkest, Spencer thinks, when he's fucking Ryan maybe, and shitshitshit). Spencer shivers again.
"I'm fine," he snaps, and the words sound so crisp he thinks they might crackle and break. Brendon and Ryan exchange a look that he can't read, and he can't call this jealousy in his head because he doesn't mind either of them doing it so much, he doesn't want them to stop, he just kind of wants in on it. Maybe.
Definitely.
They have a quiet breakfast even though it's lunch time; on the bus meals usually consist of sugar and cereal no matter what time of day it is. The silence, however, is significantly less usual, and so afterward, Spencer goes to look for and can't find his fucking iPod. Which is inconvenient because he really wanted nothing more than to blare something incredibly noisy to balance out that awkward hush, ignoring the world. (Or at least Brendon and Ryan, the knot in his gut and the heaviness between his legs.)
Spencer could have sworn he left the damn thing right in his bunk, but it's not there now, and he sighs, glancing toward the back. Brendon and Ryan went in there earlier, but the door is still slitted open and they usually close it when they, you know, want to be left alone, so. He walks back. "Guys, have you seen my--"
He freezes in the doorway, his hand on the knob, and Ryan and Brendon freeze on the couch, Brendon between Ryan's legs.
Technically, they're still clothed, although they look like they'd much rather not be. Spencer takes in the angles of Ryan's denim-clad legs wrapped around Brendon's hips, and he swallows. Hard. It's kind of one of those horrible awkward movie pauses where you actually ache for the actor on screen except hey it's actually you and not an actor, and Spencer thinks maybe he should turn around and run out, and also thinks maybe it would have been more polite if they had, you know, untangled themselves before staring at him like that, like they're waiting for something from him.
Okay, Brendon rocking against Ryan's pelvis until Ryan has to bite his lip, that's not exactly appropriate for mixed company, either, bad etiquette or something, at least, and Spencer decides he really cannot take this. He blinks away and starts to back out the door.
"Spence?" Ryan says, the same way he did earlier, except now his voice is all hoarse, and fuck it, Spencer stops; he looks up.
"C'mere," Brendon says, and Spencer narrows his eyes at him. "Please," Brendon adds, and he's not really pleading, not honestly, but Spencer was planning on coming back, anyway. Really.
"Shut the door." Ryan nods at him, and okay. Spencer latches it.
"What..."
"Just..." Ryan looks like he's trying to move, but it's obvious Brendon isn't giving up his perch anytime soon.
Spencer comes closer, can't not, and Ryan reaches out, so does Brendon, they pull him in, pull him down, until he's kneeling beside the seat. Ryan's hand slips around his neck and tugs on the back of his head and it feels okay somehow, so Spencer ignores the warning lights flashing in his brain and the sudden stream of "hey, wait, this is new, what the fuck are you--" and just goes with it. He's thought about it plenty and he's done with thinking now, thanks. He kisses Ryan and Ryan kisses him back like this (this) is what he's been waiting for.
But there are more hands on him than just Ryan's, and he's being turned, twisting, and then it's Brendon's mouth on his. Spencer pushes his groin against the side of the seat, and. Jesus, he doesn't know what's happening, but it feels so easy, so perfect, like circuit that's finally complete, maybe (Spencer never quite understood electronics). There's just this energy flowing between them now, hot and unhindered. Brendon's hands are on his body, all over, and they feel just like he'd imagined. And kissing Ryan, god, what a waste of all those years they were just friends. He feels an odd pang of remorse, but it departs quickly enough. Ryan tilts his head back and opens up and just gives, and yet Spencer can feel a strength, too, and the scratch of his stubble.
Brendon sucks on Spencer's neck and Spencer thinks of Brendon nuzzling up to Ryan on stage.
At some point, Ryan suggests that Spencer get naked (his voice is fucking gravelly), and Spencer (okay, maybe a little raspy) suggests that Ryan get naked. Brendon says that they should probably all be naked, and he volunteers to go first; Spencer thinks this is actually a pretty good idea, possibly the first good one Brendon's had. Brendon's grin is appropriately triumphant. After the shuffle of clothing being peeled off and whipped away, Spencer ends up on the couch, grinding down against Ryan, who's wiry as hell but also very warm and kind of yielding, and who parts his legs helpfully so that Spencer can fit nicely between them.
Brendon, also helpful for once, displays a tube of lube, and Spencer just about passes out, but lets Brendon squirt some into his hand and then guide Spencer's fingers down.
Brendon and Spencer prep Ryan together, fingers sliding in side by side, and Ryan makes these little throaty noises that make Spencer quiver.
"You want him?" Brendon asks, as if Ryan's his to offer. Spencer thinks the question is fucking ridiculous, and also maybe hot as hell.
"Yes," Spencer breathes. Ryan's looking up at him with hooded eyes. "No. No, I mean. Yeah, but both of you," he turns his head to try to see Brendon but instead he feels Brendon's mouth on the side of his neck, his hand on Spencer's hip.
"Of course," Brendon says, rolling a condom onto Spencer's cock. Then the hand is back on his hip, directing him, and he pushes forward, and oh. Oh.
Ryan bites his lip but his hips tilt upward toward the intrusion. Toward Spencer. Fuck.
"Brendon?" Spencer gasps as his brain echoes Ryan.
"I'm here," Brendon replies, so fucking low, and so fucking Brendon. Ryan blinks up at him and exhales.
Spencer rolls his hips, just a little, and even that shows on Ryan's face. "Fuck," Spencer says.
"Yeah," Brendon replies.
Spencer is kind of afraid to move, afraid if he does he'll break the spell or wake up or come immediately or something lame like that, and he really needs this to not end now, not yet. He thrusts his hips hesitantly, experimentally, and tries to choke back whatever sound his throat was trying to make, because he's pretty sure it would have been embarrassing.
He feels the cushion sink behind him, and in some part of his brain, maybe the part with fewer warning lights, he knows that this is what he was hoping for, Brendon's fingers pushing into him, and then yeah, his cock, thick and almost burning but also perfect.
Spencer's not sure how they're going to coordinate this, it seems excessively complicated, but he's not sure it really even matters, because if he could just die like this, exactly like this, he'd be pretty damn content, with Ryan ridiculously tight and hot and Brendon thick and solid and thick--
--and yeah, that is really pretty awesome and synchronized movement is overrated anyway.
Then Brendon kind of thrusts behind him, shallow but with enough force to push Spencer against Ryan, into Ryan. Ryan jerks his hips up against him so hard that he's shoved back against Brendon. Ryan sort of squeezes down around him, and that, with the little bit of motion, it's too much, he's been waiting too long for this, and, ricocheted between them, he comes with a shudder.
Everything softens around the edges, and he stretches up to lean his head against Ryan's forehead (Ryan tilts to meet him), feeling kind of pathetic, but also good, really fucking good and he can see why Brendon's always nuzzling Ryan on stage, because damn, this's pretty good, too.
And hey, Brendon's cock is still in his ass, and that in and of itself is pretty great, because every time Brendon moves it sends sparkles of pleasure chasing up Spencer's spine. After a moment, Brendon grunts, and jolts behind him, and yeah. Spencer pulls himself up enough to look at Ryan, who's almost smiling (his eyes totally are). Spencer realizes with a thrill that there's come on his stomach, and it's not his because his is, oh god, his is still inside Ryan, except for the condom but that totally doesn't count, totally inside Ryan, and oh fuck. He shivers so hard that it makes Ryan gasp, and Brendon chuckles and that's kind of obnoxious and also kind of cool. Spencer glances over his shoulder at Brendon, who looks dazed and happy, and Spencer thinks it's a pretty good look for him.
Spencer just breathes for a moment, or, well, tries. He thinks that eventually he is going to have to pull out and move, but. He bends down and kisses Ryan again, and reaches down to hold onto the condom. Ryan kind of squirms under him, and it throws off his balance. His arm shifts, and the hand bearing his weight slips right between the cushions. Something cold but smooth scrapes his knuckles.
"Hey, what the--" He touches it again. "Is this my iPod?" he asks, drawing his hand up. The white cord trails behind.
Ryan looks entirely too satisfied.
"Oh, hey, look at that," Brendon says cheerily.
Spencer cranes his neck to stare at him. "Oh, my God. You didn't."
"Didn't what?" Brendon asks, all puppy-dog innocence.
Ryan touches his hip. "It worked," he notes, bright and smug. Spencer, while he thinks that they are both complete morons, can't really argue with Ryan on that particular point.
Naturally, something about the show that night is different. From behind his flashing cymbals Spencer still watches Brendon sidle up to Ryan, all hands and dark looks, but after Brendon tilts his face against Ryan's, for a brief second, he turns enough to meet Spencer's gaze and winks. (Spencer smiles.) Brendon's off again, just as quick, and later, when he struts closer to Spencer's drum set, Spencer can see Ryan watching. Their eyes meet, and even thought Spencer's grinning, Ryan's expression is serious, all art, no smile. His eyes, however, are light with a promise. And yeah, that's different, too. Spencer likes it, maybe.
Definitely.
First public fanfic in over two years, first DYW fic, I'm kind of terrified, please be at least kind of gentle with me, blah blah blah.
If I don't do this now, it'll probably be another week or more or never, so...
Side by Side... by Side
What, you want a summary? I said threesome porn. That should be good enough.
2238 words, NC-17
Disclaimer: Yes, I made it all up.
Automatic point deduction for completely ignoring JWalk. I'm sorry, I wrote it before I joined Team Jon Walker.
It's been bothering Spencer for awhile now.
Tonight, he can't make out any details because the lights are reflecting just right off his cymbals, but he sees enough (his imagination can supply the rest). Brendon shimmying up to Ryan, his voice echoing in distortion around them all, then a press, and a flickerflash of Brendon's mouth against Ryan's neck; the way Ryan's body tenses and then rolls with it. Spencer can't see Ryan's eyes and he's glad because it looks... it's. Something.
Spencer doesn't like it.
Except.
Except okay, maybe he does. Brendon sliding his hand around Ryan's waist and Spencer imagines that pale hand sliding elsewhere on Ryan's body. Brendon hits his knees and yeah, Spencer imagines that, too. Brendon sashays back toward Spencer, eyes dark under his halo of stage lights, and Spencer keeps pounding on his drums.
It makes him kind of sick later, when he's thinking about it. His stomach twists up and blood throbs in his groin and he's queasy and horny and confused as fuck. Because it's Ryan, he's known Ryan since forever. And Ryan used to be his, somehow, was always his, but never like that, and Spencer's not sure he knows that Ryan. He thinks he wants to, though, and the thought makes him shiver. It's kind of weird and it's definitely not fair.
It wasn't always like this (whatever this is). Spencer can't say what's changed between them, exactly, but he knows that something's different now. It's not... it doesn't feel like he was in love with Ryan all along and only just realized it; it doesn't feel like he fell in love with him all of a sudden, either. Hell, he's not even convinced he's in love with Ryan at all, or if. It has something to do with Brendon, he thinks. It has everything to do with Brendon, because Spencer wouldn't have known about that Ryan if it weren't for him. You never see what's right in front of your nose until you have a reason to look, until something new and unexpected waltzes up from the periphery, grinning and draping himself all over your best friend, and it makes you step back, suddenly bringing the whole damn thing into focus.
They say you don't know what you have until it's gone, except nothing's really gone and Spencer misses it anyway.
Ryan smiles at him on the bus the next morning and it is the same smile as always. Then Brendon walks in and the smile shifts, eyes growing smoky and hot and Spencer wants Ryan to look at him like that. Brendon's fingers brush Ryan's shoulder as he falls beside him; Ryan sizzles with it, and ooh, fuck, Spencer wants Brendon to touch him like that.
And in a nutshell, that's the problem.
"Spence?" Ryan's voice says, and Spencer realizes he's been frowning.
"Hey, you okay, man?" Brendon asks, and Spencer meets his eyes, dark, darker (darkest, Spencer thinks, when he's fucking Ryan maybe, and shitshitshit). Spencer shivers again.
"I'm fine," he snaps, and the words sound so crisp he thinks they might crackle and break. Brendon and Ryan exchange a look that he can't read, and he can't call this jealousy in his head because he doesn't mind either of them doing it so much, he doesn't want them to stop, he just kind of wants in on it. Maybe.
Definitely.
They have a quiet breakfast even though it's lunch time; on the bus meals usually consist of sugar and cereal no matter what time of day it is. The silence, however, is significantly less usual, and so afterward, Spencer goes to look for and can't find his fucking iPod. Which is inconvenient because he really wanted nothing more than to blare something incredibly noisy to balance out that awkward hush, ignoring the world. (Or at least Brendon and Ryan, the knot in his gut and the heaviness between his legs.)
Spencer could have sworn he left the damn thing right in his bunk, but it's not there now, and he sighs, glancing toward the back. Brendon and Ryan went in there earlier, but the door is still slitted open and they usually close it when they, you know, want to be left alone, so. He walks back. "Guys, have you seen my--"
He freezes in the doorway, his hand on the knob, and Ryan and Brendon freeze on the couch, Brendon between Ryan's legs.
Technically, they're still clothed, although they look like they'd much rather not be. Spencer takes in the angles of Ryan's denim-clad legs wrapped around Brendon's hips, and he swallows. Hard. It's kind of one of those horrible awkward movie pauses where you actually ache for the actor on screen except hey it's actually you and not an actor, and Spencer thinks maybe he should turn around and run out, and also thinks maybe it would have been more polite if they had, you know, untangled themselves before staring at him like that, like they're waiting for something from him.
Okay, Brendon rocking against Ryan's pelvis until Ryan has to bite his lip, that's not exactly appropriate for mixed company, either, bad etiquette or something, at least, and Spencer decides he really cannot take this. He blinks away and starts to back out the door.
"Spence?" Ryan says, the same way he did earlier, except now his voice is all hoarse, and fuck it, Spencer stops; he looks up.
"C'mere," Brendon says, and Spencer narrows his eyes at him. "Please," Brendon adds, and he's not really pleading, not honestly, but Spencer was planning on coming back, anyway. Really.
"Shut the door." Ryan nods at him, and okay. Spencer latches it.
"What..."
"Just..." Ryan looks like he's trying to move, but it's obvious Brendon isn't giving up his perch anytime soon.
Spencer comes closer, can't not, and Ryan reaches out, so does Brendon, they pull him in, pull him down, until he's kneeling beside the seat. Ryan's hand slips around his neck and tugs on the back of his head and it feels okay somehow, so Spencer ignores the warning lights flashing in his brain and the sudden stream of "hey, wait, this is new, what the fuck are you--" and just goes with it. He's thought about it plenty and he's done with thinking now, thanks. He kisses Ryan and Ryan kisses him back like this (this) is what he's been waiting for.
But there are more hands on him than just Ryan's, and he's being turned, twisting, and then it's Brendon's mouth on his. Spencer pushes his groin against the side of the seat, and. Jesus, he doesn't know what's happening, but it feels so easy, so perfect, like circuit that's finally complete, maybe (Spencer never quite understood electronics). There's just this energy flowing between them now, hot and unhindered. Brendon's hands are on his body, all over, and they feel just like he'd imagined. And kissing Ryan, god, what a waste of all those years they were just friends. He feels an odd pang of remorse, but it departs quickly enough. Ryan tilts his head back and opens up and just gives, and yet Spencer can feel a strength, too, and the scratch of his stubble.
Brendon sucks on Spencer's neck and Spencer thinks of Brendon nuzzling up to Ryan on stage.
At some point, Ryan suggests that Spencer get naked (his voice is fucking gravelly), and Spencer (okay, maybe a little raspy) suggests that Ryan get naked. Brendon says that they should probably all be naked, and he volunteers to go first; Spencer thinks this is actually a pretty good idea, possibly the first good one Brendon's had. Brendon's grin is appropriately triumphant. After the shuffle of clothing being peeled off and whipped away, Spencer ends up on the couch, grinding down against Ryan, who's wiry as hell but also very warm and kind of yielding, and who parts his legs helpfully so that Spencer can fit nicely between them.
Brendon, also helpful for once, displays a tube of lube, and Spencer just about passes out, but lets Brendon squirt some into his hand and then guide Spencer's fingers down.
Brendon and Spencer prep Ryan together, fingers sliding in side by side, and Ryan makes these little throaty noises that make Spencer quiver.
"You want him?" Brendon asks, as if Ryan's his to offer. Spencer thinks the question is fucking ridiculous, and also maybe hot as hell.
"Yes," Spencer breathes. Ryan's looking up at him with hooded eyes. "No. No, I mean. Yeah, but both of you," he turns his head to try to see Brendon but instead he feels Brendon's mouth on the side of his neck, his hand on Spencer's hip.
"Of course," Brendon says, rolling a condom onto Spencer's cock. Then the hand is back on his hip, directing him, and he pushes forward, and oh. Oh.
Ryan bites his lip but his hips tilt upward toward the intrusion. Toward Spencer. Fuck.
"Brendon?" Spencer gasps as his brain echoes Ryan.
"I'm here," Brendon replies, so fucking low, and so fucking Brendon. Ryan blinks up at him and exhales.
Spencer rolls his hips, just a little, and even that shows on Ryan's face. "Fuck," Spencer says.
"Yeah," Brendon replies.
Spencer is kind of afraid to move, afraid if he does he'll break the spell or wake up or come immediately or something lame like that, and he really needs this to not end now, not yet. He thrusts his hips hesitantly, experimentally, and tries to choke back whatever sound his throat was trying to make, because he's pretty sure it would have been embarrassing.
He feels the cushion sink behind him, and in some part of his brain, maybe the part with fewer warning lights, he knows that this is what he was hoping for, Brendon's fingers pushing into him, and then yeah, his cock, thick and almost burning but also perfect.
Spencer's not sure how they're going to coordinate this, it seems excessively complicated, but he's not sure it really even matters, because if he could just die like this, exactly like this, he'd be pretty damn content, with Ryan ridiculously tight and hot and Brendon thick and solid and thick--
--and yeah, that is really pretty awesome and synchronized movement is overrated anyway.
Then Brendon kind of thrusts behind him, shallow but with enough force to push Spencer against Ryan, into Ryan. Ryan jerks his hips up against him so hard that he's shoved back against Brendon. Ryan sort of squeezes down around him, and that, with the little bit of motion, it's too much, he's been waiting too long for this, and, ricocheted between them, he comes with a shudder.
Everything softens around the edges, and he stretches up to lean his head against Ryan's forehead (Ryan tilts to meet him), feeling kind of pathetic, but also good, really fucking good and he can see why Brendon's always nuzzling Ryan on stage, because damn, this's pretty good, too.
And hey, Brendon's cock is still in his ass, and that in and of itself is pretty great, because every time Brendon moves it sends sparkles of pleasure chasing up Spencer's spine. After a moment, Brendon grunts, and jolts behind him, and yeah. Spencer pulls himself up enough to look at Ryan, who's almost smiling (his eyes totally are). Spencer realizes with a thrill that there's come on his stomach, and it's not his because his is, oh god, his is still inside Ryan, except for the condom but that totally doesn't count, totally inside Ryan, and oh fuck. He shivers so hard that it makes Ryan gasp, and Brendon chuckles and that's kind of obnoxious and also kind of cool. Spencer glances over his shoulder at Brendon, who looks dazed and happy, and Spencer thinks it's a pretty good look for him.
Spencer just breathes for a moment, or, well, tries. He thinks that eventually he is going to have to pull out and move, but. He bends down and kisses Ryan again, and reaches down to hold onto the condom. Ryan kind of squirms under him, and it throws off his balance. His arm shifts, and the hand bearing his weight slips right between the cushions. Something cold but smooth scrapes his knuckles.
"Hey, what the--" He touches it again. "Is this my iPod?" he asks, drawing his hand up. The white cord trails behind.
Ryan looks entirely too satisfied.
"Oh, hey, look at that," Brendon says cheerily.
Spencer cranes his neck to stare at him. "Oh, my God. You didn't."
"Didn't what?" Brendon asks, all puppy-dog innocence.
Ryan touches his hip. "It worked," he notes, bright and smug. Spencer, while he thinks that they are both complete morons, can't really argue with Ryan on that particular point.
Naturally, something about the show that night is different. From behind his flashing cymbals Spencer still watches Brendon sidle up to Ryan, all hands and dark looks, but after Brendon tilts his face against Ryan's, for a brief second, he turns enough to meet Spencer's gaze and winks. (Spencer smiles.) Brendon's off again, just as quick, and later, when he struts closer to Spencer's drum set, Spencer can see Ryan watching. Their eyes meet, and even thought Spencer's grinning, Ryan's expression is serious, all art, no smile. His eyes, however, are light with a promise. And yeah, that's different, too. Spencer likes it, maybe.
Definitely.