Surprisingly Unsurprising
Title: Surprisingly Unsurprising
Pairing: Gerard/Mikey/Ryan, mild references to Pete/Patrick and Frank/Gerard
Rating: R
Content: Incest, threesome sex, voyeurism, snowballing
Disclaimer: I don't own them, no matter how many times I wish on 11:11, and these events are, as far as I know, the work of fiction. If Google abuse brought you here, and you know and/or are those involved, please don't read.
Summary: Rather unsurprisingly, it's all Pete's fault. Written for turps33 for waysplusone .
Author's Note: Ah, last-minute fics. How I do love them so.
Rather unsurprisingly, it's all Pete's fault. After all, he's the one who planned the whole party-"everyone needs to know everybody!"-and he's the one who decided to sit Mikey down in a makeup chair and sit in his lap.
"Ryan!" he calls, waving a slim boy over. "You need to do him. Now."
Mikey starts, but the boy just grimaces annoyedly, reaching into his pocket-who keeps makeup in their pocket anyways?-and pulls out an eyeliner stick.
"Really, Pete?" he asks.
Mikey shrugs. "Oh, just get it over with."
He closes his eyes in anticipation of the cool press of the pencil point against his eyelid, the slight drag as it traces over his skin. What he isn't prepared for is the hot exhale of smoke nest to his ear, and the whisper in his ear.
"Didn’t know you were a threesome kind of guy, Mikes," Gerard says, leaning close to his brother. "That’s, just-"
"Not happening," Pete says, unfolding himself from Mikey. He gets up and walks over to Patrick, who is leaning on the nearby doorframe. "I'm with Trick."
He shoves him off. "And I'm leaving." He walks away, Pete trailing after him as he discusses some new fantastic world plan, complete with extravagant hand gestures.
"So," Mikey says to the boy-Ryan!-in front of him, "where were we?"
"Oh, yeah." He continues lining, running it along his lash line before circling his eyes and spreading outward.
Gerard cuts in. "Dude, are you doing those bat-bird things? Those were pretty sick."
Ryan responds, "Yeah, I am. You heard of them, then?"
"I them, are you crazy!" Gerard laughs, gesturing towards the eyeliner. "Hey, can I draw something?"
"Sure."
Gerard sit himself down on Mikey's lap, handing his cig off to Ryan. "'S easier this way," he explains, before settling down and holding the tip to his temple, his other hand reaching up to sweep the hair out of his face.
Ryan watches intensely over Gerard's shoulder, his eyes following the swoop, drag, and trace as a skeleton beings to take form on Mikey's forehead. By the time he starts to put the finishing touches on its tailcoat, he's breathing down Gerard's neck, whispering something about "enviable abilities" and "artistic attraction".
It doesn't surprise Mikey that Gerard would find Ryan good-looking; Frank is a testament to his taste for the artsy jailbait. What does surprise him is the ease with which they move from talking to kissing, girlish lips sliding across each other's.
He sits there, still, as they take time to exchange slow, gentle kisses. He feels like he should move, turn away, but he doesn't. Something about their interaction holds him there, strangely enthralled.
That same something keeps his eyes locked on Gerard's as they turn back towards him, as if remembering his existence. Ryan leans towards him, cupping his cheek in his palm, as Gerard walks over and shuts the door.
Ryan grins, finally exposing his smile, as he leans in, towards Mikey's lips. "You look so good in that eyeliner. It's a pity it'll probably end up getting smudged."
He slips down in front of the chair, his hands working at Mikey's fly. Soon enough, his jeans are pooled around his ankles as Ryan slips his hand inside his boxers, grasping his hardening cock. He lets out a sharp gasp at that, and Gerard turns, starting at the sight.
He can see the way Gerard hunches forward, trying to fold in on himself, as Ryan slowly, slowly jacks him, the same way he did whenever Frank walked by shirtless and sweaty while on tour. It's the way he does whenever he gets turned on, and that thought alone is enough to turn himself on, the sight of Gerard tense and his breathing ragged.
"It's okay," he says, before the rest of his sentence is cut off by a moan as Ryan takes him into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the head before slipping around the shaft. And he sees, brokenly, as Gerard slides a hand down his pants, pressing against himself with one hand as he fumbles to undo his belt with the other.
Ryan does something with his tongue, and Mikey looks down, fisting one hand in his hair. Ryan gags a bit before sliding back down, taking him fully into his mouth, and Mikey can hear Gerard's stuttered gasps from across the room as he jacks himself.
The sounds make Mikey's hips jerk up, and he holds tighter to Ryan's hair, fucking his mouth. He takes it, one hand steady on the chair and the other pressing hard against the bulge in the front of his jeans, as Mikey watches, his gaze flickering from Ryan's lips' up-and-down rhythm to Gerard's frantic strokes.
Gerard lets out one last moan, high and keening, and it pushes Mikey over the edge, his hips jerking erratically as he spills into Ryan's mouth and tightens his fingers to the point of whiteness on the armrests.
Ryan pulls off, wiping at his mouth, before moving forward to kiss Mikey, and oh, he's pushing his come into his mouth, and it should feel wrong but it doesn’t, not when Gerard walks over and takes it, his tongue swirling around Mikey's as he licks up every drop.
Exhausted, Mikey slumps back, letting his head hang low as he watches Ryan frantically jack himself, coming within minutes. As he floats around in that post-orgasmic haze, he can't help but think that maybe, Pete doesn't need to be blamed for this one.
Pairing: Gerard/Mikey/Ryan, mild references to Pete/Patrick and Frank/Gerard
Rating: R
Content: Incest, threesome sex, voyeurism, snowballing
Disclaimer: I don't own them, no matter how many times I wish on 11:11, and these events are, as far as I know, the work of fiction. If Google abuse brought you here, and you know and/or are those involved, please don't read.
Summary: Rather unsurprisingly, it's all Pete's fault. Written for turps33 for waysplusone .
Author's Note: Ah, last-minute fics. How I do love them so.
Rather unsurprisingly, it's all Pete's fault. After all, he's the one who planned the whole party-"everyone needs to know everybody!"-and he's the one who decided to sit Mikey down in a makeup chair and sit in his lap.
"Ryan!" he calls, waving a slim boy over. "You need to do him. Now."
Mikey starts, but the boy just grimaces annoyedly, reaching into his pocket-who keeps makeup in their pocket anyways?-and pulls out an eyeliner stick.
"Really, Pete?" he asks.
Mikey shrugs. "Oh, just get it over with."
He closes his eyes in anticipation of the cool press of the pencil point against his eyelid, the slight drag as it traces over his skin. What he isn't prepared for is the hot exhale of smoke nest to his ear, and the whisper in his ear.
"Didn’t know you were a threesome kind of guy, Mikes," Gerard says, leaning close to his brother. "That’s, just-"
"Not happening," Pete says, unfolding himself from Mikey. He gets up and walks over to Patrick, who is leaning on the nearby doorframe. "I'm with Trick."
He shoves him off. "And I'm leaving." He walks away, Pete trailing after him as he discusses some new fantastic world plan, complete with extravagant hand gestures.
"So," Mikey says to the boy-Ryan!-in front of him, "where were we?"
"Oh, yeah." He continues lining, running it along his lash line before circling his eyes and spreading outward.
Gerard cuts in. "Dude, are you doing those bat-bird things? Those were pretty sick."
Ryan responds, "Yeah, I am. You heard of them, then?"
"I them, are you crazy!" Gerard laughs, gesturing towards the eyeliner. "Hey, can I draw something?"
"Sure."
Gerard sit himself down on Mikey's lap, handing his cig off to Ryan. "'S easier this way," he explains, before settling down and holding the tip to his temple, his other hand reaching up to sweep the hair out of his face.
Ryan watches intensely over Gerard's shoulder, his eyes following the swoop, drag, and trace as a skeleton beings to take form on Mikey's forehead. By the time he starts to put the finishing touches on its tailcoat, he's breathing down Gerard's neck, whispering something about "enviable abilities" and "artistic attraction".
It doesn't surprise Mikey that Gerard would find Ryan good-looking; Frank is a testament to his taste for the artsy jailbait. What does surprise him is the ease with which they move from talking to kissing, girlish lips sliding across each other's.
He sits there, still, as they take time to exchange slow, gentle kisses. He feels like he should move, turn away, but he doesn't. Something about their interaction holds him there, strangely enthralled.
That same something keeps his eyes locked on Gerard's as they turn back towards him, as if remembering his existence. Ryan leans towards him, cupping his cheek in his palm, as Gerard walks over and shuts the door.
Ryan grins, finally exposing his smile, as he leans in, towards Mikey's lips. "You look so good in that eyeliner. It's a pity it'll probably end up getting smudged."
He slips down in front of the chair, his hands working at Mikey's fly. Soon enough, his jeans are pooled around his ankles as Ryan slips his hand inside his boxers, grasping his hardening cock. He lets out a sharp gasp at that, and Gerard turns, starting at the sight.
He can see the way Gerard hunches forward, trying to fold in on himself, as Ryan slowly, slowly jacks him, the same way he did whenever Frank walked by shirtless and sweaty while on tour. It's the way he does whenever he gets turned on, and that thought alone is enough to turn himself on, the sight of Gerard tense and his breathing ragged.
"It's okay," he says, before the rest of his sentence is cut off by a moan as Ryan takes him into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the head before slipping around the shaft. And he sees, brokenly, as Gerard slides a hand down his pants, pressing against himself with one hand as he fumbles to undo his belt with the other.
Ryan does something with his tongue, and Mikey looks down, fisting one hand in his hair. Ryan gags a bit before sliding back down, taking him fully into his mouth, and Mikey can hear Gerard's stuttered gasps from across the room as he jacks himself.
The sounds make Mikey's hips jerk up, and he holds tighter to Ryan's hair, fucking his mouth. He takes it, one hand steady on the chair and the other pressing hard against the bulge in the front of his jeans, as Mikey watches, his gaze flickering from Ryan's lips' up-and-down rhythm to Gerard's frantic strokes.
Gerard lets out one last moan, high and keening, and it pushes Mikey over the edge, his hips jerking erratically as he spills into Ryan's mouth and tightens his fingers to the point of whiteness on the armrests.
Ryan pulls off, wiping at his mouth, before moving forward to kiss Mikey, and oh, he's pushing his come into his mouth, and it should feel wrong but it doesn’t, not when Gerard walks over and takes it, his tongue swirling around Mikey's as he licks up every drop.
Exhausted, Mikey slumps back, letting his head hang low as he watches Ryan frantically jack himself, coming within minutes. As he floats around in that post-orgasmic haze, he can't help but think that maybe, Pete doesn't need to be blamed for this one.