RPS_Advent fic what??
Fandom and Pairing: Ryan Hansen/Chad Michael Murray (CHAMMMMMM), CW
Prompt: Fuck or Die
Readthrough and cheerleading shoutouts to missdeviant and crimsonclad; shoutout to jascott on general principle.
Spelunk, v.
Chad's just straightened out his back from the last length of tunnel he couldn't quite stand up in, putting his hands on his hips and bending backwards, when he hears a muffled curse in front of him; simultaneously, Ryan's headlamp disappears.
"Ryan? The fuck, man?"
"Um," Ryan says. "I can't move anything. It would be great if you could flip me onto my back."
Chad panics inside for a moment. If Ryan's not fucking with him, this could be a disaster on par with the Sophia Incident.
"You what, man? The fuck do you mean, you can't move, dude, get up." Chad edges towards Ryan, who's face down on the cave floor. He doesn't seem to have broken his fall with his arms, which are straight along his sides. Chad flips him over. There's dirt on one of Ryan's cheek and his stupid surfer hair, which started out swept across his forehead, is also dirty. Chad squats down beside him. "Paralyzed?" he asks.
"Yeah," Ryan says, trying to blow his hair off his forehead. Chad could probably brush it back for him, but he refuses to let a little weekend spelunking turn into a Big Faggy Extravaganza. Instead he turns off Ryan's headlamp, which was shining in his eyes. "I'd heard some caves could do it, but I didn't think it was real."
"Do what?" Chad asks. Maybe if he keeps asking questions, things will start making sense.
"Paralyze you, you douchebag. I can't move. I must have kicked up some of that dust I'd heard about, I don't know what it's called, but you breathe this stuff in in the right combination of humidity or whatever, and you get paralyzed."
"You are not paralyzed," Chad says. "Move your arms."
"If I could move my arms, I'd be punching you in the neck," Ryan grits out. "Look in my backpack, I have a book about this cave in there somewhere."
Chad rolls Ryan over and wrestles his backpack off him; after some consideration, he rolls him back onto his back. He rummages through the pack and takes Ryan's last stick of gum. "You're calling this your book about the cave?" he asks, holding up an old leather-bound journal. "This is more what I call, some batshit old dude slowly lost his marbles in a shack and wrote a story about a cave."
"Dude, you're not going to find a book about mystical cave-dust paralysis at Barnes and Noble," Ryan says, and for a guy who can't even move his face right now, he looks pretty irritated.
Chad rolls his eyes and settles on the cave floor, turning the brittle journal pages, squinting at the spidery handwriting. Ryan hums a tuneless little song.
"Apparently this cave has a bottomless pit," Chad says after a bit.
"You know, in Africa, a lot of kids live in a bottomless pit of despair, metaphorically," Ryan says. "Invisible Children--that's this group I work with--tries to help them out."
"I could leave you here," Chad offers. "I bet I'd find my way back out eventually, send somebody to get you. Might be a few days, though."
Ryan blows his breath out of his nose.
"I'm glad I'm not completely paralyzed," he says after a few minutes of blissful silence. "It would really suck if my chest and lungs and diaphragm and everything got paralyzed too and I suffocated from it."
Chad does not dignify this with an answer. He's busy having an epic panic attack from the book.
He rereads the page. Maybe he grossly misread something somewhere.
He rereads it again.
"Um," he says. He clears his throat. "Um."
"What, what, did you find something?" Ryan's looking at him out of the corner of his eyes.
"Dude. Where did you get this book?" Chad asks. "Because I'm not so sure..." he trails off.
"Dude, it's authentic, if that's what you mean. Why, did you find something in there about the cave dust? This shit sucks, man, my leg's been itching for like ten minutes. What does it say?"
Chad takes a moment to glare at Ryan, because this is all his fault, clears his throat, and reads.
"In the western tunnels of the third cave of the rushing waterfall," he reads in a voice without inflection, "there still exists some of the ancient paralysis dust. For this reason no man should venture into the depths alone; the risk is too great of stirring up the mystical poison and becoming trapped into his own death. Should a venturer be struck down, the solution is straightforward but urgent. The companion must be certain to not touch the affected areas of the cave in order to not become infected himself; the only way to quickly and safely remove the condition from the affected expeditioner is to bring him to as intense a paroxysm as possible. The venturer's paralysis will then cease, and he will be able to get up and move about freely."
Ryan stares silently up into the dark for a moment. "Paroxysm, huh," he eventually says.
"Paroxysm," Chad spits out.
"Well, whenever you're ready, man," Ryan practically sings out, and Chad wants to punch him in the neck like Ryan threatened to do to him, like he's not married, like he's not the only CW cast member that Chad has never heard rumors about, and really, Chad should probably be commended for not reaching out and grabbing Ryan's balls as hard as he wants to.
Ryan grunts, and twitches under Chad's hand. Chad rolls his eyes. At least it's going to be easy, he thinks.
Chad unzips Ryan's fly and moves closer. After a moment's hesitation he throws a leg over Ryan's, so he's sitting more or less on his knees. "You're going to love this, aren't you," he says, glaring through slitted eyes as Ryan's cock starts to poke through his boxers.
"Well, the likelihood of success is heightened in direct proportion with the-- intensity of my pleasure," Ryan ends on a gasp as Chad yanks down his pants and boxers. "You could at least put something underneath me, jackass," he adds. "Cave dirt--I'd shudder if I could."
"Fine," Chad grits out, rising up enough to roll Ryan to the side and shove a jacket under him. It doesn't escape his notice that Ryan's cock twitches.
"Oh, my god, you're a total bottom, aren't you," Chad says in horror. "Why haven't I ever heard anything about you?"
"Chad, just--shut up, seriously. I mean, I'm sorry you have to have your Big Gay Epiphany in a cave, but--" Chad twists his hand around Ryan's cock, and Ryan's mouth snaps shut.
Chad smirks.
"Big Gay Epiphany, huh," he says, shoving Ryan's legs apart and putting his fingers in his mouth.
For about ninety seconds the only sounds are the small helpless noises Ryan is making, and a bit of a smacky smacky sound, and, okay, maybe the increasingly-fast sound of Chad's breathing, and possibly the deafening sound of his heart. So there's actually a lot of noise, except that Ryan is mercifully shut up by what Chad's doing, and then he ruins it by opening his mouth.
"This is kind of awkward," Ryan grunts. "I mean, you and I don't even hang out that much."
"Why couldn't your mouth have gotten paralyzed too?" Chad bitches. "And," he adds, watching his fingers disappear back into Ryan's ass, "could you have picked a more inopportune time to talk about fucking awkward? Maybe when you can walk again we can call our moms and tell 'em about our big gay spelunking adventure."
"At this rate I'm not going to be able to walk normal for a week," Ryan says, with a pretty good approximation of a smirk, for a paralyzed guy, and Chad just really does not want him to be talking anymore--no one should be able to talk during this, so he curls his fingers inside Ryan's body, just to hear him gasp. And, maybe, okay, Chad is getting off on this a little, which is-- not to be considered. He presses the heel of his other hand against his cock through his pants, and moves his right hand faster. Ryan's breath gets even faster, and when Chad reaches his left hand out and makes a loose circle around Ryan's cock, then squeezes, Ryan gulps in a huge gasp of air and comes all over Chad's hand.
"Oh thank god," he pants, "I can move. Look, I can move." He wiggles his toes and wipes off his face.
"I'm so thrilled for you," Chad says. "Why don't you put your newfound mobility to good use and turn the fuck over."
Miraculously Ryan doesn't mouthe off, just flips over onto his hands and knees and stretches his back like some sex-crazed cat, and Chad can hear some joints somewhere popping before he stills Ryan with a hand on his hip, gripping hard enough that he hopes he leaves bruises, and shoves Ryan's shirt up his back and his own pants down his thighs. He takes a second to wipe his come-covered hand onto his cock--who goes spelunking with lube--and presses into Ryan, who is not quiet about it.
Ryan takes it like a pro, and Chad is planning how he'll storm onto the Veronica Mars set and demand why no one ever told him, and his general irritation at being kept out of the loop on what is frankly some of the hottest sex of his life, submerged deep in the earth or no, makes him pound harder and faster into Ryan, so before he even realizes it, really, Ryan's making even louder noises and coming onto the jacket on the ground and clenching around Chad, who does not resist the urge to bite down on Ryan's neck, hard, when he comes.
Chad gasps for a second and then pulls out, barely managing to pull his pants back up before he flops onto the cave floor on his back.
"Oh my god," Ryan says vacantly.
"Big Gay Epiphany, huh," Chad says again, to be an asshole.
Chad makes Ryan walk in front of him the whole way out of the cave.
Prompt: Fuck or Die
Readthrough and cheerleading shoutouts to missdeviant and crimsonclad; shoutout to jascott on general principle.
Spelunk, v.
Chad's just straightened out his back from the last length of tunnel he couldn't quite stand up in, putting his hands on his hips and bending backwards, when he hears a muffled curse in front of him; simultaneously, Ryan's headlamp disappears.
"Ryan? The fuck, man?"
"Um," Ryan says. "I can't move anything. It would be great if you could flip me onto my back."
Chad panics inside for a moment. If Ryan's not fucking with him, this could be a disaster on par with the Sophia Incident.
"You what, man? The fuck do you mean, you can't move, dude, get up." Chad edges towards Ryan, who's face down on the cave floor. He doesn't seem to have broken his fall with his arms, which are straight along his sides. Chad flips him over. There's dirt on one of Ryan's cheek and his stupid surfer hair, which started out swept across his forehead, is also dirty. Chad squats down beside him. "Paralyzed?" he asks.
"Yeah," Ryan says, trying to blow his hair off his forehead. Chad could probably brush it back for him, but he refuses to let a little weekend spelunking turn into a Big Faggy Extravaganza. Instead he turns off Ryan's headlamp, which was shining in his eyes. "I'd heard some caves could do it, but I didn't think it was real."
"Do what?" Chad asks. Maybe if he keeps asking questions, things will start making sense.
"Paralyze you, you douchebag. I can't move. I must have kicked up some of that dust I'd heard about, I don't know what it's called, but you breathe this stuff in in the right combination of humidity or whatever, and you get paralyzed."
"You are not paralyzed," Chad says. "Move your arms."
"If I could move my arms, I'd be punching you in the neck," Ryan grits out. "Look in my backpack, I have a book about this cave in there somewhere."
Chad rolls Ryan over and wrestles his backpack off him; after some consideration, he rolls him back onto his back. He rummages through the pack and takes Ryan's last stick of gum. "You're calling this your book about the cave?" he asks, holding up an old leather-bound journal. "This is more what I call, some batshit old dude slowly lost his marbles in a shack and wrote a story about a cave."
"Dude, you're not going to find a book about mystical cave-dust paralysis at Barnes and Noble," Ryan says, and for a guy who can't even move his face right now, he looks pretty irritated.
Chad rolls his eyes and settles on the cave floor, turning the brittle journal pages, squinting at the spidery handwriting. Ryan hums a tuneless little song.
"Apparently this cave has a bottomless pit," Chad says after a bit.
"You know, in Africa, a lot of kids live in a bottomless pit of despair, metaphorically," Ryan says. "Invisible Children--that's this group I work with--tries to help them out."
"I could leave you here," Chad offers. "I bet I'd find my way back out eventually, send somebody to get you. Might be a few days, though."
Ryan blows his breath out of his nose.
"I'm glad I'm not completely paralyzed," he says after a few minutes of blissful silence. "It would really suck if my chest and lungs and diaphragm and everything got paralyzed too and I suffocated from it."
Chad does not dignify this with an answer. He's busy having an epic panic attack from the book.
He rereads the page. Maybe he grossly misread something somewhere.
He rereads it again.
"Um," he says. He clears his throat. "Um."
"What, what, did you find something?" Ryan's looking at him out of the corner of his eyes.
"Dude. Where did you get this book?" Chad asks. "Because I'm not so sure..." he trails off.
"Dude, it's authentic, if that's what you mean. Why, did you find something in there about the cave dust? This shit sucks, man, my leg's been itching for like ten minutes. What does it say?"
Chad takes a moment to glare at Ryan, because this is all his fault, clears his throat, and reads.
"In the western tunnels of the third cave of the rushing waterfall," he reads in a voice without inflection, "there still exists some of the ancient paralysis dust. For this reason no man should venture into the depths alone; the risk is too great of stirring up the mystical poison and becoming trapped into his own death. Should a venturer be struck down, the solution is straightforward but urgent. The companion must be certain to not touch the affected areas of the cave in order to not become infected himself; the only way to quickly and safely remove the condition from the affected expeditioner is to bring him to as intense a paroxysm as possible. The venturer's paralysis will then cease, and he will be able to get up and move about freely."
Ryan stares silently up into the dark for a moment. "Paroxysm, huh," he eventually says.
"Paroxysm," Chad spits out.
"Well, whenever you're ready, man," Ryan practically sings out, and Chad wants to punch him in the neck like Ryan threatened to do to him, like he's not married, like he's not the only CW cast member that Chad has never heard rumors about, and really, Chad should probably be commended for not reaching out and grabbing Ryan's balls as hard as he wants to.
Ryan grunts, and twitches under Chad's hand. Chad rolls his eyes. At least it's going to be easy, he thinks.
Chad unzips Ryan's fly and moves closer. After a moment's hesitation he throws a leg over Ryan's, so he's sitting more or less on his knees. "You're going to love this, aren't you," he says, glaring through slitted eyes as Ryan's cock starts to poke through his boxers.
"Well, the likelihood of success is heightened in direct proportion with the-- intensity of my pleasure," Ryan ends on a gasp as Chad yanks down his pants and boxers. "You could at least put something underneath me, jackass," he adds. "Cave dirt--I'd shudder if I could."
"Fine," Chad grits out, rising up enough to roll Ryan to the side and shove a jacket under him. It doesn't escape his notice that Ryan's cock twitches.
"Oh, my god, you're a total bottom, aren't you," Chad says in horror. "Why haven't I ever heard anything about you?"
"Chad, just--shut up, seriously. I mean, I'm sorry you have to have your Big Gay Epiphany in a cave, but--" Chad twists his hand around Ryan's cock, and Ryan's mouth snaps shut.
Chad smirks.
"Big Gay Epiphany, huh," he says, shoving Ryan's legs apart and putting his fingers in his mouth.
For about ninety seconds the only sounds are the small helpless noises Ryan is making, and a bit of a smacky smacky sound, and, okay, maybe the increasingly-fast sound of Chad's breathing, and possibly the deafening sound of his heart. So there's actually a lot of noise, except that Ryan is mercifully shut up by what Chad's doing, and then he ruins it by opening his mouth.
"This is kind of awkward," Ryan grunts. "I mean, you and I don't even hang out that much."
"Why couldn't your mouth have gotten paralyzed too?" Chad bitches. "And," he adds, watching his fingers disappear back into Ryan's ass, "could you have picked a more inopportune time to talk about fucking awkward? Maybe when you can walk again we can call our moms and tell 'em about our big gay spelunking adventure."
"At this rate I'm not going to be able to walk normal for a week," Ryan says, with a pretty good approximation of a smirk, for a paralyzed guy, and Chad just really does not want him to be talking anymore--no one should be able to talk during this, so he curls his fingers inside Ryan's body, just to hear him gasp. And, maybe, okay, Chad is getting off on this a little, which is-- not to be considered. He presses the heel of his other hand against his cock through his pants, and moves his right hand faster. Ryan's breath gets even faster, and when Chad reaches his left hand out and makes a loose circle around Ryan's cock, then squeezes, Ryan gulps in a huge gasp of air and comes all over Chad's hand.
"Oh thank god," he pants, "I can move. Look, I can move." He wiggles his toes and wipes off his face.
"I'm so thrilled for you," Chad says. "Why don't you put your newfound mobility to good use and turn the fuck over."
Miraculously Ryan doesn't mouthe off, just flips over onto his hands and knees and stretches his back like some sex-crazed cat, and Chad can hear some joints somewhere popping before he stills Ryan with a hand on his hip, gripping hard enough that he hopes he leaves bruises, and shoves Ryan's shirt up his back and his own pants down his thighs. He takes a second to wipe his come-covered hand onto his cock--who goes spelunking with lube--and presses into Ryan, who is not quiet about it.
Ryan takes it like a pro, and Chad is planning how he'll storm onto the Veronica Mars set and demand why no one ever told him, and his general irritation at being kept out of the loop on what is frankly some of the hottest sex of his life, submerged deep in the earth or no, makes him pound harder and faster into Ryan, so before he even realizes it, really, Ryan's making even louder noises and coming onto the jacket on the ground and clenching around Chad, who does not resist the urge to bite down on Ryan's neck, hard, when he comes.
Chad gasps for a second and then pulls out, barely managing to pull his pants back up before he flops onto the cave floor on his back.
"Oh my god," Ryan says vacantly.
"Big Gay Epiphany, huh," Chad says again, to be an asshole.
Chad makes Ryan walk in front of him the whole way out of the cave.