Eight Seconds [NaNoRyRo 4]
Title: Eight Seconds [NaNoRyRo 4]
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 3rd, Brendon centric
Summary: Rodeo cowboys AU.
Word Count: 1,405
Disclaimer: Not my boys, never happened. Don't Google yourselves, kids. Especially you, Bden, I see you lurking over there. *SpencerSmithglare*
Beta: None.
Author Notes: My own prompt. DEAR GOD, SO MANY INNUENDOS. /o\ Can't you just imagine those boys with heavy country accents? *swoons* Damn, I am a true Texan, huh? :/
'09 NaNoRyRo Masterlist
"You sure as hell don't look like much to be a rider," Brendon told the young man in front of him. He was a skinny kid, maybe a hair or so taller than Brendon and not a day over twenty, with his hair cropped short and dyed black. His boots were shiny, new, as were the rest of his clothes and Brendon assumed he was a Vegas kid. Number forty-two was the only name Brendon knew him as, but at least his Wranglers fit the way they were supposed to.
Number forty-two looked down at himself before giving Brendon a mischievous grin from under the brim of his cowboy hat. "I don't guess I do, then, huh?"
Brendon couldn't help but crack a grin at that face. "Brendon," he greeted, offering his hand. "Me and my good buddy Jon are the pickup men 'round here."
"Ryan," the kid replied, taking Brendon's hand. "I ride bareback," he added with the slightest hint of suggestiveness, and Brendon was sure he would have winked under different circumstances.
"My favorite boys to get off," Brendon replied, hoping Ryan would catch the double meaning, his heart leaping into his throat when Ryan smirked back at him devilishly. "I'll see you around, kid."
***
"Alright, folks, if you'll turn your attention to the Wells Fargo chute, we've got a young man by the name of Ryan Ross from Las Vegas, Nevada-"
"I fuckin' knew it."
"Shut yer face, Brendon. And get over on yer fuckin' side."
"-And he'll be riding Silver tonight. Say, Bob, ain't there a story behind that'n?"
"Sure is, Gene, that there horse has the reputation of being one of the meanest broncs..."
"Shit, he's on Silver, he's fuckin' toast, Jon."
"He'll be fine, now go get on yer goddamned side, Brendon, 'fore I gotta thump you."
"-And here he goes, folks!"
Brendon had just trotted over to the opposite side of the arena and turned his horse to face the chutes when Ryan's gate clanged open, the sound tech blaring Bad to the Bone over the loudspeakers. As if in slow motion, Silver, a monstrous grey stallion with a bright white mane and tail, shot out of the gate with his hind legs already in the air. Ryan looked like a small child perched atop such a large creature, one skinny arm secured tightly to the horse's back, the other held proudly in the air.
The way Brendon's horse was fidgeting reflected how Brendon felt, watching some kid he barely knew on one of the toughest broncs the rodeo had with bated breath. When the buzzer sounded, he and Jon bolted towards Ryan, Jon grabbing and pulling the cinch off the horse on one side, Brendon trying to get Ryan safely off of said horse on the other.
"My hand's stuck," Ryan called over the noise of the audience, desperately pulling at the ropes binding his hand to the horse's back.
"Well, get it unstuck, genius," Jon called back, keeping Silver pinned against Brendon's horse with his own.
They were halfway around the arena when Ryan finally could pull his hand free, flinging both arms around Brendon's waist.
Brendon tried his best to keep his mind strictly on his job when he felt Ryan's long, slender fingers brush his hip, wrapping an arm around his narrow chest and lifting him up. Silver ran out from under him, and Brendon slowed his horse to a trot before letting Ryan drop to the ground.
"Thanks," he thought he heard Ryan say as he began to help Jon chase down Silver and get him back through the center gate.
***
Long after the rodeo ended, Brendon was out back of the arena taking care of his horses. He was just about to leave when Ryan showed up.
"Hey, Ryan, what are you still doin' here? I figured you'n everyone else'd be off sleepin' in their hotels by now."
"I was lookin' for you, actually."
Brendon tried to keep the smug look off of his face, but he could still feel it there. "Oh, really?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Brendon. That navy hanky in your back pocket is as plain as day, and don't you dare tell me it's cause you got a cold."
Brendon had almost completely forgotten about it, to be honest. It had been so long since he had gotten laid. Texas just didn't have the amount of fags that Vegas did.
Ryan suddenly pulled his own navy handkerchief from his back right pocket, waving it in Brendon's face. "Wanna go back to my hotel, pretty boy?"
Brendon swatted Ryan's hand away with a grin on his face, pulling the taller boy in for a quick kiss. "I'll follow you out."
The two got into their respective vehicles and drove the four and a half blocks to Ryan's hotel, stealing up to his room as fast as they could. Almost before the door even closed all the way, Brendon had Ryan pinned to the back of it, kissing him fiercely. Ryan's hat fell to the ground as he tilted his head back, allowing Brendon access to his neck as his hands wandered towards Ryan's belt buckle.
Brendon had Ryan's belt and jeans undone, his hand wrapped around Ryan's fully hard cock when Ryan gently pushed him away.
"Bed. Now. I wanna ride you."
Brendon nearly groaned, making a beeline for the bed, leaving behind him a trail of dusty clothes.
Ryan chuckled, picking up his hat and throwing it on a chair before darting towards the bed, quickly grabbing a bottle of lube from his suitcase before stripping down and crawling on top of the other boy. Brendon pulled Ryan down for another kiss, a little softer this time, slicking up his fingers with the proffered lube before teasing Ryan's hole.
Ryan whimpered into Brendon's mouth as he pushed a finger in, and then a second. Brendon lightly brushed over Ryan's prostate, making him moan softly, and added a third. When Ryan was ready, he nodded, and Brendon removed his fingers, just watching Ryan shuffle backwards to position himself.
"No condom?" Brendon asked curiously, not really caring either way as long as Ryan was clean, but he was kind of used to guys being extremely anal about using them, excuse the pun.
"I told you," Ryan whispered, giving Brendon's cock a liberal layer of lube before pressing the head against his hole. "I ride bareback."
Brendon groaned as the meaning of Ryan's words sunk in at the same time Ryan sank down on him, the tight heat catching him a little off guard. Digging his nails into Ryan's thighs, Brendon watched his face as he got used to the feeling, shifting his hips slightly.
Suddenly, Ryan lifted up using his thighs, bracing himself with his hands on Brendon's chest, long pale fingers splayed out over tanned skin. Slamming back down and making both of them moan, Ryan picked up a consistent rhythm that had Brendon bucking up into him.
Ryan eventually changed his angle so that Brendon's cock was digging into his prostate, each downward thrust making him moan like a whore. Besides the fact that Ryan was riding him, which was already hot on too many levels to count, watching him truly enjoy it was even more of a turn on, and Brendon found himself dangerously close to orgasm. Wrapping his hand around Ryan's leaking cock, Brendon stroked him in counter rhythm to the one Ryan had set.
"Oh... fuck," was all Ryan could get out before moaning wantonly as he came across Brendon's stomach and chest, not once pausing in his movements until Brendon gasped and came hard inside of him.
Pulling off, Ryan slumped over onto the bed next to Brendon, both trying to regain control of their breathing.
"So, that's how you make them horses buck, huh?"
Ryan lightly elbowed Brendon in the ribs, grinning. "Maybe, but those rides don't last nearly as long."
"Eight seconds not long enough for ya?" Brendon joked, wiping Ryan's cum off of his torso.
"Not even," Ryan replied, draping an arm around Brendon's chest and snuggling close. "Besides, I only ever see those horses once; I'd rather have one good horse than a million good rides."
Brendon smiled warmly at him. "Am I a good horse?"
"You're better than a good horse, baby," Ryan muttered, pushing sweaty hair out of Brendon's eyes. "You're whatever you want to be."
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 3rd, Brendon centric
Summary: Rodeo cowboys AU.
Word Count: 1,405
Disclaimer: Not my boys, never happened. Don't Google yourselves, kids. Especially you, Bden, I see you lurking over there. *SpencerSmithglare*
Beta: None.
Author Notes: My own prompt. DEAR GOD, SO MANY INNUENDOS. /o\ Can't you just imagine those boys with heavy country accents? *swoons* Damn, I am a true Texan, huh? :/
'09 NaNoRyRo Masterlist
"You sure as hell don't look like much to be a rider," Brendon told the young man in front of him. He was a skinny kid, maybe a hair or so taller than Brendon and not a day over twenty, with his hair cropped short and dyed black. His boots were shiny, new, as were the rest of his clothes and Brendon assumed he was a Vegas kid. Number forty-two was the only name Brendon knew him as, but at least his Wranglers fit the way they were supposed to.
Number forty-two looked down at himself before giving Brendon a mischievous grin from under the brim of his cowboy hat. "I don't guess I do, then, huh?"
Brendon couldn't help but crack a grin at that face. "Brendon," he greeted, offering his hand. "Me and my good buddy Jon are the pickup men 'round here."
"Ryan," the kid replied, taking Brendon's hand. "I ride bareback," he added with the slightest hint of suggestiveness, and Brendon was sure he would have winked under different circumstances.
"My favorite boys to get off," Brendon replied, hoping Ryan would catch the double meaning, his heart leaping into his throat when Ryan smirked back at him devilishly. "I'll see you around, kid."
***
"Alright, folks, if you'll turn your attention to the Wells Fargo chute, we've got a young man by the name of Ryan Ross from Las Vegas, Nevada-"
"I fuckin' knew it."
"Shut yer face, Brendon. And get over on yer fuckin' side."
"-And he'll be riding Silver tonight. Say, Bob, ain't there a story behind that'n?"
"Sure is, Gene, that there horse has the reputation of being one of the meanest broncs..."
"Shit, he's on Silver, he's fuckin' toast, Jon."
"He'll be fine, now go get on yer goddamned side, Brendon, 'fore I gotta thump you."
"-And here he goes, folks!"
Brendon had just trotted over to the opposite side of the arena and turned his horse to face the chutes when Ryan's gate clanged open, the sound tech blaring Bad to the Bone over the loudspeakers. As if in slow motion, Silver, a monstrous grey stallion with a bright white mane and tail, shot out of the gate with his hind legs already in the air. Ryan looked like a small child perched atop such a large creature, one skinny arm secured tightly to the horse's back, the other held proudly in the air.
The way Brendon's horse was fidgeting reflected how Brendon felt, watching some kid he barely knew on one of the toughest broncs the rodeo had with bated breath. When the buzzer sounded, he and Jon bolted towards Ryan, Jon grabbing and pulling the cinch off the horse on one side, Brendon trying to get Ryan safely off of said horse on the other.
"My hand's stuck," Ryan called over the noise of the audience, desperately pulling at the ropes binding his hand to the horse's back.
"Well, get it unstuck, genius," Jon called back, keeping Silver pinned against Brendon's horse with his own.
They were halfway around the arena when Ryan finally could pull his hand free, flinging both arms around Brendon's waist.
Brendon tried his best to keep his mind strictly on his job when he felt Ryan's long, slender fingers brush his hip, wrapping an arm around his narrow chest and lifting him up. Silver ran out from under him, and Brendon slowed his horse to a trot before letting Ryan drop to the ground.
"Thanks," he thought he heard Ryan say as he began to help Jon chase down Silver and get him back through the center gate.
***
Long after the rodeo ended, Brendon was out back of the arena taking care of his horses. He was just about to leave when Ryan showed up.
"Hey, Ryan, what are you still doin' here? I figured you'n everyone else'd be off sleepin' in their hotels by now."
"I was lookin' for you, actually."
Brendon tried to keep the smug look off of his face, but he could still feel it there. "Oh, really?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Brendon. That navy hanky in your back pocket is as plain as day, and don't you dare tell me it's cause you got a cold."
Brendon had almost completely forgotten about it, to be honest. It had been so long since he had gotten laid. Texas just didn't have the amount of fags that Vegas did.
Ryan suddenly pulled his own navy handkerchief from his back right pocket, waving it in Brendon's face. "Wanna go back to my hotel, pretty boy?"
Brendon swatted Ryan's hand away with a grin on his face, pulling the taller boy in for a quick kiss. "I'll follow you out."
The two got into their respective vehicles and drove the four and a half blocks to Ryan's hotel, stealing up to his room as fast as they could. Almost before the door even closed all the way, Brendon had Ryan pinned to the back of it, kissing him fiercely. Ryan's hat fell to the ground as he tilted his head back, allowing Brendon access to his neck as his hands wandered towards Ryan's belt buckle.
Brendon had Ryan's belt and jeans undone, his hand wrapped around Ryan's fully hard cock when Ryan gently pushed him away.
"Bed. Now. I wanna ride you."
Brendon nearly groaned, making a beeline for the bed, leaving behind him a trail of dusty clothes.
Ryan chuckled, picking up his hat and throwing it on a chair before darting towards the bed, quickly grabbing a bottle of lube from his suitcase before stripping down and crawling on top of the other boy. Brendon pulled Ryan down for another kiss, a little softer this time, slicking up his fingers with the proffered lube before teasing Ryan's hole.
Ryan whimpered into Brendon's mouth as he pushed a finger in, and then a second. Brendon lightly brushed over Ryan's prostate, making him moan softly, and added a third. When Ryan was ready, he nodded, and Brendon removed his fingers, just watching Ryan shuffle backwards to position himself.
"No condom?" Brendon asked curiously, not really caring either way as long as Ryan was clean, but he was kind of used to guys being extremely anal about using them, excuse the pun.
"I told you," Ryan whispered, giving Brendon's cock a liberal layer of lube before pressing the head against his hole. "I ride bareback."
Brendon groaned as the meaning of Ryan's words sunk in at the same time Ryan sank down on him, the tight heat catching him a little off guard. Digging his nails into Ryan's thighs, Brendon watched his face as he got used to the feeling, shifting his hips slightly.
Suddenly, Ryan lifted up using his thighs, bracing himself with his hands on Brendon's chest, long pale fingers splayed out over tanned skin. Slamming back down and making both of them moan, Ryan picked up a consistent rhythm that had Brendon bucking up into him.
Ryan eventually changed his angle so that Brendon's cock was digging into his prostate, each downward thrust making him moan like a whore. Besides the fact that Ryan was riding him, which was already hot on too many levels to count, watching him truly enjoy it was even more of a turn on, and Brendon found himself dangerously close to orgasm. Wrapping his hand around Ryan's leaking cock, Brendon stroked him in counter rhythm to the one Ryan had set.
"Oh... fuck," was all Ryan could get out before moaning wantonly as he came across Brendon's stomach and chest, not once pausing in his movements until Brendon gasped and came hard inside of him.
Pulling off, Ryan slumped over onto the bed next to Brendon, both trying to regain control of their breathing.
"So, that's how you make them horses buck, huh?"
Ryan lightly elbowed Brendon in the ribs, grinning. "Maybe, but those rides don't last nearly as long."
"Eight seconds not long enough for ya?" Brendon joked, wiping Ryan's cum off of his torso.
"Not even," Ryan replied, draping an arm around Brendon's chest and snuggling close. "Besides, I only ever see those horses once; I'd rather have one good horse than a million good rides."
Brendon smiled warmly at him. "Am I a good horse?"
"You're better than a good horse, baby," Ryan muttered, pushing sweaty hair out of Brendon's eyes. "You're whatever you want to be."