Into the Roses
Title: Into the Roses
Author: Telis (theaerosolkid)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Jon
Summary: Jon Walker feels ever-so-slightly left out. Brendon's got a solution to this problem.
A/N: For the gloriously darling notshybutsly, Rachel, you rock my socks. Thanks for the custom header, I swear to God it will end up on this fucking journal, one day.
"Brendon and Jon are sharing, tonight," Zack said, passing out room-keys.
"HOTEL," Brendon said, eyes glazed over. Spencer snorted.
"Poor baby, such a terribly hard life we lead," Ryan mumbled.
"Fuck you," Brendon said good-naturedly. "You're happy to have a bed that's not moving eighty miles per hour, don't lie, Ross."
"Whatever," Ryan said, and went back to his Sidekick. Brendon rolled his eyes at Jon and pressed a wet kiss to Ryan's neck. Ryan squirmed beneath him until Brendon managed to hook both arms around him, nuzzling in.
The elevator dinged! cheerfully, and as the doors slid shut, Zack herded them all inside, ignoring the squabbling between Brendon and Ryan.
"Freak," Spencer said affectionately, tugging at Brendon's hair gently. Brendon pulled back enough to stick his tongue out at Spencer. Without missing a beat, Spencer reached out and pinched Brendon's tongue between his thumb and forefinger and yanked. Brendon let out a yelp of protest and stumbled away from Ryan.
Uneasy, Jon glanced over at Zack, looking for cues. Zack shrugged, and Jon shifted in place. Goddammit. No help, there.
He sighed again. Honestly, it was so fucking difficult right now. Fill-in bassist, okay, but what did that give him rights to? Was he supposed to hang back? Jump into the group? The three of them had a weird dynamic that had been all their own, even back when Brent had been technically a part of the band. They just - did everything separately, somehow.
Jon's gaze settled back on Brendon, pinned to the wall by Spencer, who was leaning in, sliding one slim thigh between Brendon's legs, whispering into his ear.
Oh, yeah. There was also that.
It was kind of common knowledge, the pervading gay orgy of a band that was Panic! At the Disco. Bill had sort of - not warned, per se - but given him the heads-up that knocking was always a good idea when you were looking for someone in that particular group. And it left Jon even more confused. Brendon had gotten more cuddly in the last few weeks, and Spencer had started touching him more, lingering and teasing, almost; Ryan had been giving him meaningful looks over whatever notebook he was scribbling in. Jon was pretty sure what they wanted, but was just unsure enough to not want to take that first step.
Ryan reached over and looped an arm through Jon's, giving him a small, secretive smile.
--
Jon emerged from the shower, sighing with pleasure, steam crowding him. He was wearing nothing but the towel draped loosely around his hips, using another one to rub vigorously at his skull, trying to dry his hair as best he could.
"Hi," Brendon said pertly from the nearest bed.
"Hi, there."
"Good shower?" Brendon asked. He was sitting cross-legged, methodically going through an issue of Vogue, page by page, dog-earing the ones he liked.
"Mmmh," Jon grunted.
"So," Brendon said, and kicked the magazine away casually. He patted the bed next to him invitingly. Jon quirked an eyebrow but sat. "Jon Walker, you are feeling excluded."
"Uhm," Jon said after a beat. "Huh?"
"You can't hide from me," Brendon said wisely. "Dude, my family's bigger than some third world countries, okay, I know when someone feels left out."
"Right," Jon said, after another beat. "Sure."
"So, there's really a simple fix to this problem."
"And that would be?" Jon dropped the towel over the front of his face, breathing in the scent of clean laundry.
"I really think I should blow you."
"What!?"
"Well," Brendon reasoned. "The only reason you have to feel awkward is 'cause we're all fucking, and you aren't. So, like, before the orgies and group sex and stuff, I think you should really just have a nice blowjob. And I happen to be really good at sucking dick, so." He shrugged.
"Uh," Jon managed, choking a little.
"You don't have to," Brendon said, jerking the towel away from Jon. "But, like. You're missing out."
"Oh, really?" Jon said faintly.
"Yeah," Brendon said, nodding. "So?"
Well, what the fuck. Why not. "Uhh, okay, I guess." Brendon crowed in victory, pumping his fists in the air before leaning in and kissing Jon enthusiastically, shoving his hands into Jon's still-dripping hair, climbing into his lap, pinning him to the bed. Jon's hands came up and settled at Brendon's hips automatically and Brendon ground back into him. Obligingly, Jon shifted his hands down to Brendon's ass, squeezing and kneading. Brendon whimpered into his mouth, and bit his bottom lip gently, held it between his teeth before pulling back and crawling to the floor, kneeling before Jon's legs, lightly resting his hands at Jon's knees, spreading them.
The towel didn't afford him much modesty, but Brendon grew impatient with it and pushed it away, leaning in, breath ghosting across Jon's skin. He wrapped one hand firmly around the base of Jon's cock and stroked, working him to hardness before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to the slit. Jon flopped back against the bed, cursing under his breath. Brendon let out a chuckle, darkly amused, before rubbing the tip of Jon's cock against full curving lips, tongue darting out to taste, just a little.
"Mhhgh," Jon groaned out and Brendon huffed out a laugh. He relented, though, and took the head into his mouth, sucking gently. Jon gasped as Brendon got to work, bobbing his head and twisting his wrist in tandem.
Oh God.
Brendon sucked cock like it was a privilege to do so, moaning appreciatively around the length, hollowing his cheeks and running blunt, close-cropped fingernails over the sensitized skin of Jon's thigh, pausing to trace designs with his fingertips, not slowing the movements of either his hand or his mouth, sucking harder, now, his tongue undulating. He pulled off, briefly, and kissed his way down to the base, lapping at Jon's balls before licking stripes back up to the head, swirling his tongue just beneath it, kissing and sucking at Jon's dick, purring, almost.
Jon reached down and fisted hands into Brendon's hair, trying his best to keep his hips still - bad manners! - and just barely managed to avoid fucking Brendon's mouth. Then Brendon hummed around him, and Jon sucked in another hard gasp. Brendon was sliding down the length, taking it all, inch by inch, until Jon could feel the back of his throat opening, just taking it, fuck, this was probably the best blowjob in a long time, shit, and he could feel Brendon's chin nudging at his balls, and he let out a low harsh groan, fingers scrabbling at Brendon's scalp, trying to warn him.
Brendon hummed again, sucking harder, working his throat around Jon's cock, and Jon groaned, curling his toes, feeling warmth pooling in his belly. Brendon pulled himself off, slowly, suckling at only the tip, now, grazing his teeth lightly, and fuck, that was enough; Jon came pulsing, choking back a cry. Brendon slipped away nimbly, letting some of Jon's come streak across his mouth and chin, tongue dipping out to lap at the stickiness before reaching up to run his fingers through the mess, drawing it into his mouth.
"Fuck," Jon breathed, and leaned down, hauling Brendon to the bed, pushing him down, straddling him, kissing him into the mattress.
Brendon tilted his head away, coy. "Welcome to the band, Jon Walker."
Author: Telis (theaerosolkid)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Jon
Summary: Jon Walker feels ever-so-slightly left out. Brendon's got a solution to this problem.
A/N: For the gloriously darling notshybutsly, Rachel, you rock my socks. Thanks for the custom header, I swear to God it will end up on this fucking journal, one day.
"Brendon and Jon are sharing, tonight," Zack said, passing out room-keys.
"HOTEL," Brendon said, eyes glazed over. Spencer snorted.
"Poor baby, such a terribly hard life we lead," Ryan mumbled.
"Fuck you," Brendon said good-naturedly. "You're happy to have a bed that's not moving eighty miles per hour, don't lie, Ross."
"Whatever," Ryan said, and went back to his Sidekick. Brendon rolled his eyes at Jon and pressed a wet kiss to Ryan's neck. Ryan squirmed beneath him until Brendon managed to hook both arms around him, nuzzling in.
The elevator dinged! cheerfully, and as the doors slid shut, Zack herded them all inside, ignoring the squabbling between Brendon and Ryan.
"Freak," Spencer said affectionately, tugging at Brendon's hair gently. Brendon pulled back enough to stick his tongue out at Spencer. Without missing a beat, Spencer reached out and pinched Brendon's tongue between his thumb and forefinger and yanked. Brendon let out a yelp of protest and stumbled away from Ryan.
Uneasy, Jon glanced over at Zack, looking for cues. Zack shrugged, and Jon shifted in place. Goddammit. No help, there.
He sighed again. Honestly, it was so fucking difficult right now. Fill-in bassist, okay, but what did that give him rights to? Was he supposed to hang back? Jump into the group? The three of them had a weird dynamic that had been all their own, even back when Brent had been technically a part of the band. They just - did everything separately, somehow.
Jon's gaze settled back on Brendon, pinned to the wall by Spencer, who was leaning in, sliding one slim thigh between Brendon's legs, whispering into his ear.
Oh, yeah. There was also that.
It was kind of common knowledge, the pervading gay orgy of a band that was Panic! At the Disco. Bill had sort of - not warned, per se - but given him the heads-up that knocking was always a good idea when you were looking for someone in that particular group. And it left Jon even more confused. Brendon had gotten more cuddly in the last few weeks, and Spencer had started touching him more, lingering and teasing, almost; Ryan had been giving him meaningful looks over whatever notebook he was scribbling in. Jon was pretty sure what they wanted, but was just unsure enough to not want to take that first step.
Ryan reached over and looped an arm through Jon's, giving him a small, secretive smile.
--
Jon emerged from the shower, sighing with pleasure, steam crowding him. He was wearing nothing but the towel draped loosely around his hips, using another one to rub vigorously at his skull, trying to dry his hair as best he could.
"Hi," Brendon said pertly from the nearest bed.
"Hi, there."
"Good shower?" Brendon asked. He was sitting cross-legged, methodically going through an issue of Vogue, page by page, dog-earing the ones he liked.
"Mmmh," Jon grunted.
"So," Brendon said, and kicked the magazine away casually. He patted the bed next to him invitingly. Jon quirked an eyebrow but sat. "Jon Walker, you are feeling excluded."
"Uhm," Jon said after a beat. "Huh?"
"You can't hide from me," Brendon said wisely. "Dude, my family's bigger than some third world countries, okay, I know when someone feels left out."
"Right," Jon said, after another beat. "Sure."
"So, there's really a simple fix to this problem."
"And that would be?" Jon dropped the towel over the front of his face, breathing in the scent of clean laundry.
"I really think I should blow you."
"What!?"
"Well," Brendon reasoned. "The only reason you have to feel awkward is 'cause we're all fucking, and you aren't. So, like, before the orgies and group sex and stuff, I think you should really just have a nice blowjob. And I happen to be really good at sucking dick, so." He shrugged.
"Uh," Jon managed, choking a little.
"You don't have to," Brendon said, jerking the towel away from Jon. "But, like. You're missing out."
"Oh, really?" Jon said faintly.
"Yeah," Brendon said, nodding. "So?"
Well, what the fuck. Why not. "Uhh, okay, I guess." Brendon crowed in victory, pumping his fists in the air before leaning in and kissing Jon enthusiastically, shoving his hands into Jon's still-dripping hair, climbing into his lap, pinning him to the bed. Jon's hands came up and settled at Brendon's hips automatically and Brendon ground back into him. Obligingly, Jon shifted his hands down to Brendon's ass, squeezing and kneading. Brendon whimpered into his mouth, and bit his bottom lip gently, held it between his teeth before pulling back and crawling to the floor, kneeling before Jon's legs, lightly resting his hands at Jon's knees, spreading them.
The towel didn't afford him much modesty, but Brendon grew impatient with it and pushed it away, leaning in, breath ghosting across Jon's skin. He wrapped one hand firmly around the base of Jon's cock and stroked, working him to hardness before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to the slit. Jon flopped back against the bed, cursing under his breath. Brendon let out a chuckle, darkly amused, before rubbing the tip of Jon's cock against full curving lips, tongue darting out to taste, just a little.
"Mhhgh," Jon groaned out and Brendon huffed out a laugh. He relented, though, and took the head into his mouth, sucking gently. Jon gasped as Brendon got to work, bobbing his head and twisting his wrist in tandem.
Oh God.
Brendon sucked cock like it was a privilege to do so, moaning appreciatively around the length, hollowing his cheeks and running blunt, close-cropped fingernails over the sensitized skin of Jon's thigh, pausing to trace designs with his fingertips, not slowing the movements of either his hand or his mouth, sucking harder, now, his tongue undulating. He pulled off, briefly, and kissed his way down to the base, lapping at Jon's balls before licking stripes back up to the head, swirling his tongue just beneath it, kissing and sucking at Jon's dick, purring, almost.
Jon reached down and fisted hands into Brendon's hair, trying his best to keep his hips still - bad manners! - and just barely managed to avoid fucking Brendon's mouth. Then Brendon hummed around him, and Jon sucked in another hard gasp. Brendon was sliding down the length, taking it all, inch by inch, until Jon could feel the back of his throat opening, just taking it, fuck, this was probably the best blowjob in a long time, shit, and he could feel Brendon's chin nudging at his balls, and he let out a low harsh groan, fingers scrabbling at Brendon's scalp, trying to warn him.
Brendon hummed again, sucking harder, working his throat around Jon's cock, and Jon groaned, curling his toes, feeling warmth pooling in his belly. Brendon pulled himself off, slowly, suckling at only the tip, now, grazing his teeth lightly, and fuck, that was enough; Jon came pulsing, choking back a cry. Brendon slipped away nimbly, letting some of Jon's come streak across his mouth and chin, tongue dipping out to lap at the stickiness before reaching up to run his fingers through the mess, drawing it into his mouth.
"Fuck," Jon breathed, and leaned down, hauling Brendon to the bed, pushing him down, straddling him, kissing him into the mattress.
Brendon tilted his head away, coy. "Welcome to the band, Jon Walker."