Come undone
Teenage dom!Ryan works his kinks out on Spencer. Spencer goes along with it, but doesn't admit how hard it gets him off. Then they meet teenage dom!Brendon, who wants to fuck them both into the floor. Dom!Ryan&Brendon then double team Spencer until he begs and screams.
(aka, more kink please.)
(aftercare would be awesome, especially aftercare that is not sickeningly mushy and sappy.)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: language, underage shenanigans, CBT, D/s, orgasm denial, spanking, the usual suspects.
Disclaimer: not real, Title belongs to Placebo
Spencer knows Ryan better then anyone and that means more then everyone realizes, because the thing is, no one actually knows shit about Ryan at all. Spencer is probably (scratch that, definitely) the only person Ryan trusts.
The guy with the deep thoughtful eyes who never quite relaxes and jumps at any loud noise isn’t all of Ryan. The sullen kid with the note books full of scribbles and painted fragile birds on the cover isn’t all of Ryan. The musician who can rarely stand anyone hearing him play but still practises till his fingers bleed isn’t all of Ryan.
The trembling mess showing up at the door and climbing into Spencer’s bed some nights isn’t all of Ryan.
The bottom line is, people don’t know shit about Ryan’s secrets, they just like to think they do. Spencer does, though. That’s why he’s going along with what that other Ryan, his Ryan, wants. Or so he tells himself.
This secret Ryan likes inflicting pain a little too much for Spencer’s liking. Or so he tells himself. He gives into Ryan’s demands, the ones that make his voice sound different and his posture change, because Ryan needs to figure this out. Spence is just being a friend, that’s all.
Ryan needs the confidence after all, right? If Ryan can get good at this, maybe it’s gonna balance out some of the victim-shit he’s had to deal with. Spencer is doing the right thing, playing along with an air of gruff acceptance because it’s what his friend needs.
Or something. Only, it’s kind of hot sometimes. He thinks about the sharp pull of Ryan’s slender fingers in his hair, about his cock hitting the back of Spencer’s throat and forcing it open, about the small noises of appreciation that fall from Ryan’s lips when he gets to play his game exactly the way he wants to.
Spencer doesn’t dwell on it. He’s just being a friend, period.
When Ryan asks him to do “research” with him on the net, Spencer sits next to him, but he isn’t looking. He isn’t. When Ryan gets himself a profile on one of those sites Spencer didn’t look at, Spencer doesn’t read the messages he receives, not at all.
He’s also not intrigued one little bit when Ryan starts chatting to a guy in earnest, having conversations on messenger for hours at a time while Spencer is sitting next to the chair on the floor, head in Ryan’s lap. Sitting on the floor isn’t really that big a deal, after all. They do it all the time.
This messenger person tells them he’s called Brendon and that he’s just turned sixteen. He chats to Ryan about pain and bondage and butt-plugs like they’re talking ice cream flavours and offers to meet immediately when they figure out they’re all from Vegas. Spencer goes along because that’s what Ryan wants, and to watch out for him. For all they know, Ryan’s new acquaintance could be ancient, gross and possibly a lunatic to boot. Spencer’s just keeping Ryan safe.
They arrange to get together at a diner none of them is a regular at and the only reason Spencer is nervous is that he doesn’t know just how crazy that aim-dude is gonna be. Ryan’s nervous because he’s Ryan and he’s meeting a stranger, so Spencer squeezes his hand a lot and feels like the balance has been re-established for the time being. He’s wrong, he realizes that the second Brendon walks in the door of the diner.
Ryan sort of grows next to him, pulls his shoulders back and stares straight into Brendon as they shake hands awkwardly. Spencer has never seen this Ryan out in public yet and something tugs in his lower abdomen sharply, feeling vaguely like fear. He’s probably just nervous, that’s all.
“Awesome”, Brendon grins when they’ve stared at each other for what seems a ridiculously long time. He sits down opposite Ryan without even so much as acknowledging Spencer’s presence and the weird feeling in Spencer’s stomach intensifies. Still, he can handle this. He’s got nothing to worry about.
Brendon’s relaxed and confident, it’s just this side of annoying really. He immediately starts talking shop with Ryan, who leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table as he drinks in every word, his eyes gleaming.
Spencer isn’t even listening, isn’t hanging onto every word. He doesn’t care. This conversation has nothing to do with him. Brendon isn’t even looking at… well, he is now. Not just looking but blatantly checking Spencer out and grinning at Ryan. “He’s hot”, he observes casually, like Spencer can’t hear. Like Spencer is furniture or decoration or something. He huffs and Brendon leans over to pet his cheek.
He’d really kinda like to jump up or scream at Brendon or at least tell him off or… Ryan’s smiling at him, in that infuriating, indulgent way and Spencer settles back down, biting his lip. Ryan needs this, he reminds himself, sullenly playing with the straw of his milk-shake. Brendon’s eyes are on both of them and he looks so fucking smug, so pleased, Spencer can’t help feeling a little proud for being maybe 50 per cent responsible for that facial expression.
“Have you ever played with anyone else before?” Brendon’s still talking to Ryan and only Ryan and Spencer stares down at his fingernails. Ryan shakes his head, slowly. “Just us. I’d like to try something new though, so. If you were gonna?” Brendon beams, at both of them this time. Spencer can’t help smiling back tentatively before returning his gaze to his nails, cursing himself for coming over all keen when in reality, this is Ryan’s thing. He’s just helping, damn it.
“I was definitely gonna, man. I’d love to. Only it’s gonna have to be your place or something, my parents are Mormon and I get the feeling a guy hog-tied on my bed with a plug up his ass might not so much be their pace.”
Ryan’s giggling while Spencer freezes at the images his mind helpfully supplies to illustrate Brendon’s words. He’s not going to. Shit. No way.
“My place, no problem,” Ryan shrugs. “If we make it around 6 pm, we should have a good few hours to ourselves.” That’s the time Ryan’s dad usually hits the bars, but still. He could be back early or something. Ryan turns toward him, a tiny smile playing around his glossed lips. “Unless you’d rather we make it your place?”
Both Brendon and Ryan laugh when Spencer blushes and grinds his teeth so hard he’ll probably need dentures soon if he keeps this up. “My place, then”, Ryan decides. “How about Wednesday?” He scribbles down the address for Brendon and Brendon promises to call him to “bounce some ideas around”. “He’s yours, after all. Your rules,” he adds seriously, hugging Ryan and leaning over the table to ruffle Spencer’s hair before he takes off. The insults Spencer is forming in his head are quite creative and colourful even for him, but they don’t find their way out of his mouth.
Only, Ryan seems really happy. Spencer is a slut for Ryan being happy, that’s what got him into this shit in the first place. He’s still dead set on none of this ever happening, though. He’ll make up and excuse, get ill, contract a bad case of crabs, anything at all. He does no such thing, but he blames that on the fact that Ryan kinda almost breaks his window on Tuesday night to get in. He doesn’t tell Spencer what happened, just curls into him and mumbles his name over and over and Spencer melts, like he always does. He simply doesn’t have his guard back up again by the next afternoon so they hang out at Ryan’s house after school waiting for Brendon who arrives five minutes early, all smiles and bouncy anticipation.
By way of greeting, he looks Spencer up and down, frowning and turning around to Ryan. “So, why is he still dressed?” he asks conversationally and Ryan stops mid-shrug to face Spencer. “Get ready.” His voice has dropped to that chilling strange whisper, these are the only times when he ever doesn’t sound disaffected and it does things to Spencer. Things like making him take his clothes off in broad daylight in the living room of the Ross’ home while the other two sit on the couch sharing a soda and talking quietly, pretending they’re not watching his every move.
Spencer makes another mental note that he is not enjoying this. That’s a split second before Brendon gets up from the couch, beaming and walking over and running a hand over Spencer’s back and…
Spencer takes a deep breath and tries not to blush when it hitches in his throat, turning into something suspiciously like a moan.
“He’s beautiful, Ry”, Brendon whispers, sounding awed. Spencer’s never really been beautiful before. Ryan moves over to his other side, matching his hand running down Spencer’s front with the pace of Brendon’s running down the back, keeping the touch light, almost soothing while Brendon starts digging his fingernails into Spencer’s shoulders suddenly. Spencer jerks forward, but Ryan’s pushing back, pushing him into the touch. “Ssh”, he hisses, not calming Spencer but telling him to keep the fuck still. Spencer knows the difference. In a split second, the realisation that this is happening, for real, right now, hits him.
“Get on your knees, Spencer” Brendon whispers, the amusement gone from his voice, his breath ghosting over Spencer’s ear, making him shiver. He doesn’t move, looking up at Ryan helplessly. Ryan just raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think Brendon likes repeating himself very much, Spence.” Ryan is a fucking traitor.
Brendon’s hand is on his neck suddenly, the grip surprisingly strong, the voice level but threatening. “Get on your fucking knees. Now!” Spencer almost falls over when Brendon pushes him down, digging his fingers into Spencer’s neck hard enough to bruise.
“Better”, Brendon drawls and loosens his iron grip a bit, but Ryan looks about ten kinds of pissed off and Spencer swallows hard. Ryan. Helping Ryan, right? Making Ryan happy. Right. He takes a deep breath and leaves his eyes fixed at the floor. Brendon’s hand’s casually fisted into his hair and he doesn’t know what’s going on up there, what they’re planning. He doesn’t dare to check. Ryan steps closer to him and Brendon lets go of Spencer just long enough to open Ryan’s zipper and help him get his pants down. Ryan doesn’t do underwear, so his cock is right there, in front of Spencer’s face, hard and ready. Spencer leans forward and opens his mouth, but Brendon yanks him back roughly.
“Who said you could?” His voice is still even, but Spencer is starting to get scared. It’s never been this way before. Pleasing Ryan is easy compared to this. Or it was, because Ryan is seriously getting ideas here. Brendon is pulling Spencer’s hair back hard enough he has to look up and meet Ryan’s gaze. “Well?”, Ryan asks, “aren’t you going to apologize?” “What the fuck for?” Spencer shoots back, without even thinking. This is too much.
He doesn’t see it coming when Ryan backhands him and his head snaps to the side, straining against Brendon’s grip of his hair. It hurts. It hurts even more because it’s Ryan. Ryan’s his friend, right? A friend who stands there looking down at him, frowning and shaking his head slightly. “Don’t let me down, Spence”, he mumbles quietly and Spencer bites his lip, blushes. He won’t. Ryan knows that. He won’t let Ryan down ever.
“I’msorry”, he grits out and Ryan’s face relaxes into a tiny smile. “Good.” Ryan takes a tiny step forward and rubs the tip of his cock against Spencer’s closed lips, coating them with pre come. Spencer doesn’t open his mouth until Brendon tells him to and he doesn’t do anything else, just waits as Brendon pushes his head forward and pulls him back again, not forcing him to take Ryan in all the way, but not exactly going easy either.
Spencer breathes through his nose and concentrates hard on keeping his throat relaxed. He’s had practice with this and it shows. Brendon picks up the pace slightly. “Fuck, he’s good,” he mumbles as he pushes Spencer’s head all the way forward, holding him there for a moment before letting him pull back. Ryan makes a sound that’s probably approval. Then, he pulls away.
“Show him, Spence.” Brendon grins as Spencer looks up, his eyes huge. “Not like this,” Brendon decides and pulls him to his feet. “Get on the couch.”
Spencer freezes again and Brendon swats his ass, hard. “You’ve gotta quit the princess routine, pretty boy, or you’ll get in deep shit trouble.” Spencer doesn’t reply, but he gets on the couch, lets himself be tugged into position until he’s on his back with his head lolling over the low arm rest. It’s an awkward position and he can feel the tension in his neck as all his muscles are stretched. Ryan climbs on top of him, trapping his cock with his hips, grinding down hard. Spencer gasps and Brendon just grins wider.
“If you reckon you’re gonna get off anytime soon, think again” he smiles pleasantly while he tugs his pants down. He’s moving close and nodding shortly at Ryan, some silent exchange Spencer doesn’t understand until Ryan reaches round to cup his head, pulling it back further, making it feel like his neck is going to snap. He opens his mouth, panting for air and Brendon slides in easily, immediately hitting the back of his throat so hard he chokes. Brendon keeps smiling and pulls out a little, only to slam back in, harder. Brendon’s dick is probably shorter then Ryan’s if anything, but he makes up for that in girth, Spencer can feel his lips straining, the corners of his mouth feeling ready to split any second.
He can’t really use his tongue in this position so he keeps still, focusing on breathing, on keeping his jaw slack, on covering his teeth. Ryan lets go of his hair once he’s given into the pace and strokes him idly with one hand, using the other to wander all over his chest, occasionally digging his nails into the skin. Spencer can feel his own moans vibrating around Brendon’s cock and if the appreciative noises are anything to go by, so can Brendon.
“Damn, so fucking good,” Brendon mumbles before pulling away. “Enough for now, pretty. I’ve got other plans.” Ryan moves beside him, but he doesn’t get up. “He’s getting there,” Brendon observes smugly and Ryan beams at him proudly. “Yeah”, he whispers, “he’s getting there.” Spencer isn’t sure if they’re both talking about the same thing, all he can think about is that he’s hard. Much, much harder then he should be if this was just a friend thing.
Ryan knows him well enough to pick up on the thought and leans forward. “You like this, Spencer?” He’s asked this same question many times and Spencer always said yes, regardless of whether or not he actually did. This time though, he’s surprised to find he completely means it when he nods and chokes out a “yes”, neck still strained, voice sounding breathy and rough.
“I’m thinking I’d really like to beat your ass.” Brendon has that way of saying shit like that so casually, like there’s nothing to it. Ryan eyes Brendon suspiciously for a long moment, but then he nods. “Just… no punches, okay?” Brendon shakes his head. “I wouldn’t.”
Which is a small blessing really, seeing that Brendon really knows how to hurt with just his flat hand. Ryan’s spanked Spencer a couple of times, even tried a belt once, but those were pretty half-hearted attempts apparently. Brendon just goes for it, not letting up, one leg hooked over the back of Spencer’s knees, his hand coming down in a quick, deliberate rhythm. Spencer’s head is buried in Ryan’s lap and he feels Ryan’s fingers combing through his hair, comforting and so familiar. It’s not Ryan’s part in this that has him leaking pre-come all over Brendon’s thighs and he knows it. The pain spreads into an even burn, each slap building up the heat, and he moans, he can’t help it.
Ryan’s hand stills in his hair for a moment and Brendon pauses briefly and Spencer can’t not arch his back, can’t not stick his ass out, can’t not silently beg for more. “Oh wow,” he hears Brendon exclaim behind him before he picks up the pace again, hitting harder, moving down to the sensitive spot between his ass and thighs. Spencer squirms, willing Brendon to move on to another area, but Brendon’s set on keeping it right there for the moment.
“You wanna be good or you wanna be tied down?” Spencer forces himself to still again, to not wriggle around, to not buck up. It’s hard. He’s hard. It hurts, but in a good way, in a way that makes him forget how all this is meant to be for Ryan, how he’s just playing along.
“I’m pretty sure he’d be happy to do this all night,” he hears Brendon chuckle, “but my hand’s starting to hurt.” “Please.” The word escapes before he can stop himself and he just knows this is it. Now they know. Ryan leans down a little. “Please what, Spence?” “Please, I… just please. Don’t stop.” He breathes a sigh of relief when Brendon starts up again without commenting. Spencer briefly wonders if there are gonna be bruises, if he’s gonna feel this the next day whenever he sits down maybe. He hopes so.
“You wanna remember this, right?” Ryan asks from somewhere far away and Spencer nods helplessly, whimpering as Brendon focuses his onslaught on his thighs once more. Ryan knows him too well for hiding, especially right now. He feels like he’s been ripped open, like he’s coming undone in their hands and meeting some alien person that’s been living inside of him all this time, terrified to come out. He’s babbling into Ryan’s lap incoherently, something about how much he wants, needs, anything at all, please, whatthefuckever. He is so gone.
Brendon stops. “You want real pain, Spencer?” he asks, sounding like he means it. Spencer nods weakly and Brendon kicks his legs apart roughly, grabbing his balls and tugging. Spencer screams as white hot flashes of light explode behind his eyes. Brendon lets up for a moment, only to squeeze tighter moments later. “Like that?” Spencer can’t speak, the words turn into garbled nonsense in his throat, a choked sob that should make no sense except they understand anyway. Brendon leans forward, his crotch pressing into Spencer’s burning ass, he’s sliding his arms underneath Spencer’s chest, finding nipples and pinching, hard. Spencer jolts, almost throwing Brendon off balance. Brendon moves back and turns him round. Ryan’s looking down at him, his expression pleased. “Shit, Spence,” he mumbles.
“Hold his wrists, Ryan.” Spencer lifts his arms above his head and Ryan grabs them with one hand, bearing down on them with as much force as his position permits before deciding it’s awkward. He casually pushes Spencer off and gets up, moving far enough up on the couch to really pin Spencer’s hands down, holding on tightly.
Brendon’s biting his way down Spencer’s neck and towards his nipples, trapping each of them in turn between his sharp teeth until Spencer can’t feel anything but fucking burning heat washing over him. When Brendon’s hand moves back down to stroke his cock, he bites his lips hard enough to draw blood.
“Ryan, please…” Ryan looks down at him, still clenching his hands around Spencer’s wrists. “No.” he says curtly. “Please, Ryan, please, fuck…” “DON’T FUCKING BEG. I SAID NO.” Spencer knows Brendon is smiling as he’s teasing his cock, running his fingers up and down the shaft with too little friction to make him come, but jesus, he wants to. Ryan said no, though. He can’t. He’s not allowed. When Brendon slaps his cock, he arches off the couch so violently he can hear his spine crack. “Fuck!”
Brendon does it again, harder. Then, he moves away. Spencer wants to cry out for him to come back, but he doesn’t dare. Ryan said not to.
“Fuck his brains out, Ry. All yours now.” Brendon sits down on one of the armchairs, a relaxed, content smile on his face as he reaches down to wrap a hand around his own dick. Ryan doesn’t even waste a second, getting up and flipping Spencer over with surprising strength before spitting on his fingers carelessly and forcing three of them into Spencer quickly, barely giving him time to adjust before he yanks them out and pushes back in again. Spencer’s still not making a sound, he’s biting his own arm to hold it back until Ryan says it’s okay to.
“Wanna hear you”, Ryan grits out, roughly pulling Spencer’s cheeks apart. “Ask for it.” “JesusRyanplease. Fuck me,” Spencer all but screams and Ryan drives into him, burying himself to the hilt. Brendon gasps softly and tightens his grip on his own cock.
“PleaseRy. Jesusfuckingharderplease.” Ryan complies. Spencer’s gonna feel this tomorrow for sure, probably a good while beyond that. Brendon’s so fucking close now, watching Spencer writhing and moaning and fucking begging, his pale body pushing back against Ryan. He gets up from the arm-chair and comes all over Spencer’s back with a small groan, smiling at Ryan, grateful that he’d let him. Ryan smirks and licks some of the sticky white stuff off Spencer’s back, running his tongue over his full lips appreciatively. “Come. Now,” he gasps and sinks his teeth into Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer complies, coming hard enough so his vision blurs briefly, shaking as he feels Ryan shooting his load, hot and deep inside him.
All three of them are panting and Ryan collapses on the sofa without bothering to pull out while Brendon slumps down on the floor, one hand on Ryan’s neck, one in Spencer’s hair. They remain like that for a long time, but eventually, Ryan moves, carefully detaching himself from Spencer only to help him up.
Spencer realizes just how much his ass hurts, inside and out, but it doesn’t matter anymore, not after this. He curls up against Ryan and reaches out to pull Brendon closer, too. “Thanks,” he whispers, not even sure why he feels he needs to say it. Both of them smile at him and Ryan kisses his forehead. “Anytime.” Brendon giggles.
(aka, more kink please.)
(aftercare would be awesome, especially aftercare that is not sickeningly mushy and sappy.)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: language, underage shenanigans, CBT, D/s, orgasm denial, spanking, the usual suspects.
Disclaimer: not real, Title belongs to Placebo
Spencer knows Ryan better then anyone and that means more then everyone realizes, because the thing is, no one actually knows shit about Ryan at all. Spencer is probably (scratch that, definitely) the only person Ryan trusts.
The guy with the deep thoughtful eyes who never quite relaxes and jumps at any loud noise isn’t all of Ryan. The sullen kid with the note books full of scribbles and painted fragile birds on the cover isn’t all of Ryan. The musician who can rarely stand anyone hearing him play but still practises till his fingers bleed isn’t all of Ryan.
The trembling mess showing up at the door and climbing into Spencer’s bed some nights isn’t all of Ryan.
The bottom line is, people don’t know shit about Ryan’s secrets, they just like to think they do. Spencer does, though. That’s why he’s going along with what that other Ryan, his Ryan, wants. Or so he tells himself.
This secret Ryan likes inflicting pain a little too much for Spencer’s liking. Or so he tells himself. He gives into Ryan’s demands, the ones that make his voice sound different and his posture change, because Ryan needs to figure this out. Spence is just being a friend, that’s all.
Ryan needs the confidence after all, right? If Ryan can get good at this, maybe it’s gonna balance out some of the victim-shit he’s had to deal with. Spencer is doing the right thing, playing along with an air of gruff acceptance because it’s what his friend needs.
Or something. Only, it’s kind of hot sometimes. He thinks about the sharp pull of Ryan’s slender fingers in his hair, about his cock hitting the back of Spencer’s throat and forcing it open, about the small noises of appreciation that fall from Ryan’s lips when he gets to play his game exactly the way he wants to.
Spencer doesn’t dwell on it. He’s just being a friend, period.
When Ryan asks him to do “research” with him on the net, Spencer sits next to him, but he isn’t looking. He isn’t. When Ryan gets himself a profile on one of those sites Spencer didn’t look at, Spencer doesn’t read the messages he receives, not at all.
He’s also not intrigued one little bit when Ryan starts chatting to a guy in earnest, having conversations on messenger for hours at a time while Spencer is sitting next to the chair on the floor, head in Ryan’s lap. Sitting on the floor isn’t really that big a deal, after all. They do it all the time.
This messenger person tells them he’s called Brendon and that he’s just turned sixteen. He chats to Ryan about pain and bondage and butt-plugs like they’re talking ice cream flavours and offers to meet immediately when they figure out they’re all from Vegas. Spencer goes along because that’s what Ryan wants, and to watch out for him. For all they know, Ryan’s new acquaintance could be ancient, gross and possibly a lunatic to boot. Spencer’s just keeping Ryan safe.
They arrange to get together at a diner none of them is a regular at and the only reason Spencer is nervous is that he doesn’t know just how crazy that aim-dude is gonna be. Ryan’s nervous because he’s Ryan and he’s meeting a stranger, so Spencer squeezes his hand a lot and feels like the balance has been re-established for the time being. He’s wrong, he realizes that the second Brendon walks in the door of the diner.
Ryan sort of grows next to him, pulls his shoulders back and stares straight into Brendon as they shake hands awkwardly. Spencer has never seen this Ryan out in public yet and something tugs in his lower abdomen sharply, feeling vaguely like fear. He’s probably just nervous, that’s all.
“Awesome”, Brendon grins when they’ve stared at each other for what seems a ridiculously long time. He sits down opposite Ryan without even so much as acknowledging Spencer’s presence and the weird feeling in Spencer’s stomach intensifies. Still, he can handle this. He’s got nothing to worry about.
Brendon’s relaxed and confident, it’s just this side of annoying really. He immediately starts talking shop with Ryan, who leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table as he drinks in every word, his eyes gleaming.
Spencer isn’t even listening, isn’t hanging onto every word. He doesn’t care. This conversation has nothing to do with him. Brendon isn’t even looking at… well, he is now. Not just looking but blatantly checking Spencer out and grinning at Ryan. “He’s hot”, he observes casually, like Spencer can’t hear. Like Spencer is furniture or decoration or something. He huffs and Brendon leans over to pet his cheek.
He’d really kinda like to jump up or scream at Brendon or at least tell him off or… Ryan’s smiling at him, in that infuriating, indulgent way and Spencer settles back down, biting his lip. Ryan needs this, he reminds himself, sullenly playing with the straw of his milk-shake. Brendon’s eyes are on both of them and he looks so fucking smug, so pleased, Spencer can’t help feeling a little proud for being maybe 50 per cent responsible for that facial expression.
“Have you ever played with anyone else before?” Brendon’s still talking to Ryan and only Ryan and Spencer stares down at his fingernails. Ryan shakes his head, slowly. “Just us. I’d like to try something new though, so. If you were gonna?” Brendon beams, at both of them this time. Spencer can’t help smiling back tentatively before returning his gaze to his nails, cursing himself for coming over all keen when in reality, this is Ryan’s thing. He’s just helping, damn it.
“I was definitely gonna, man. I’d love to. Only it’s gonna have to be your place or something, my parents are Mormon and I get the feeling a guy hog-tied on my bed with a plug up his ass might not so much be their pace.”
Ryan’s giggling while Spencer freezes at the images his mind helpfully supplies to illustrate Brendon’s words. He’s not going to. Shit. No way.
“My place, no problem,” Ryan shrugs. “If we make it around 6 pm, we should have a good few hours to ourselves.” That’s the time Ryan’s dad usually hits the bars, but still. He could be back early or something. Ryan turns toward him, a tiny smile playing around his glossed lips. “Unless you’d rather we make it your place?”
Both Brendon and Ryan laugh when Spencer blushes and grinds his teeth so hard he’ll probably need dentures soon if he keeps this up. “My place, then”, Ryan decides. “How about Wednesday?” He scribbles down the address for Brendon and Brendon promises to call him to “bounce some ideas around”. “He’s yours, after all. Your rules,” he adds seriously, hugging Ryan and leaning over the table to ruffle Spencer’s hair before he takes off. The insults Spencer is forming in his head are quite creative and colourful even for him, but they don’t find their way out of his mouth.
Only, Ryan seems really happy. Spencer is a slut for Ryan being happy, that’s what got him into this shit in the first place. He’s still dead set on none of this ever happening, though. He’ll make up and excuse, get ill, contract a bad case of crabs, anything at all. He does no such thing, but he blames that on the fact that Ryan kinda almost breaks his window on Tuesday night to get in. He doesn’t tell Spencer what happened, just curls into him and mumbles his name over and over and Spencer melts, like he always does. He simply doesn’t have his guard back up again by the next afternoon so they hang out at Ryan’s house after school waiting for Brendon who arrives five minutes early, all smiles and bouncy anticipation.
By way of greeting, he looks Spencer up and down, frowning and turning around to Ryan. “So, why is he still dressed?” he asks conversationally and Ryan stops mid-shrug to face Spencer. “Get ready.” His voice has dropped to that chilling strange whisper, these are the only times when he ever doesn’t sound disaffected and it does things to Spencer. Things like making him take his clothes off in broad daylight in the living room of the Ross’ home while the other two sit on the couch sharing a soda and talking quietly, pretending they’re not watching his every move.
Spencer makes another mental note that he is not enjoying this. That’s a split second before Brendon gets up from the couch, beaming and walking over and running a hand over Spencer’s back and…
Spencer takes a deep breath and tries not to blush when it hitches in his throat, turning into something suspiciously like a moan.
“He’s beautiful, Ry”, Brendon whispers, sounding awed. Spencer’s never really been beautiful before. Ryan moves over to his other side, matching his hand running down Spencer’s front with the pace of Brendon’s running down the back, keeping the touch light, almost soothing while Brendon starts digging his fingernails into Spencer’s shoulders suddenly. Spencer jerks forward, but Ryan’s pushing back, pushing him into the touch. “Ssh”, he hisses, not calming Spencer but telling him to keep the fuck still. Spencer knows the difference. In a split second, the realisation that this is happening, for real, right now, hits him.
“Get on your knees, Spencer” Brendon whispers, the amusement gone from his voice, his breath ghosting over Spencer’s ear, making him shiver. He doesn’t move, looking up at Ryan helplessly. Ryan just raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think Brendon likes repeating himself very much, Spence.” Ryan is a fucking traitor.
Brendon’s hand is on his neck suddenly, the grip surprisingly strong, the voice level but threatening. “Get on your fucking knees. Now!” Spencer almost falls over when Brendon pushes him down, digging his fingers into Spencer’s neck hard enough to bruise.
“Better”, Brendon drawls and loosens his iron grip a bit, but Ryan looks about ten kinds of pissed off and Spencer swallows hard. Ryan. Helping Ryan, right? Making Ryan happy. Right. He takes a deep breath and leaves his eyes fixed at the floor. Brendon’s hand’s casually fisted into his hair and he doesn’t know what’s going on up there, what they’re planning. He doesn’t dare to check. Ryan steps closer to him and Brendon lets go of Spencer just long enough to open Ryan’s zipper and help him get his pants down. Ryan doesn’t do underwear, so his cock is right there, in front of Spencer’s face, hard and ready. Spencer leans forward and opens his mouth, but Brendon yanks him back roughly.
“Who said you could?” His voice is still even, but Spencer is starting to get scared. It’s never been this way before. Pleasing Ryan is easy compared to this. Or it was, because Ryan is seriously getting ideas here. Brendon is pulling Spencer’s hair back hard enough he has to look up and meet Ryan’s gaze. “Well?”, Ryan asks, “aren’t you going to apologize?” “What the fuck for?” Spencer shoots back, without even thinking. This is too much.
He doesn’t see it coming when Ryan backhands him and his head snaps to the side, straining against Brendon’s grip of his hair. It hurts. It hurts even more because it’s Ryan. Ryan’s his friend, right? A friend who stands there looking down at him, frowning and shaking his head slightly. “Don’t let me down, Spence”, he mumbles quietly and Spencer bites his lip, blushes. He won’t. Ryan knows that. He won’t let Ryan down ever.
“I’msorry”, he grits out and Ryan’s face relaxes into a tiny smile. “Good.” Ryan takes a tiny step forward and rubs the tip of his cock against Spencer’s closed lips, coating them with pre come. Spencer doesn’t open his mouth until Brendon tells him to and he doesn’t do anything else, just waits as Brendon pushes his head forward and pulls him back again, not forcing him to take Ryan in all the way, but not exactly going easy either.
Spencer breathes through his nose and concentrates hard on keeping his throat relaxed. He’s had practice with this and it shows. Brendon picks up the pace slightly. “Fuck, he’s good,” he mumbles as he pushes Spencer’s head all the way forward, holding him there for a moment before letting him pull back. Ryan makes a sound that’s probably approval. Then, he pulls away.
“Show him, Spence.” Brendon grins as Spencer looks up, his eyes huge. “Not like this,” Brendon decides and pulls him to his feet. “Get on the couch.”
Spencer freezes again and Brendon swats his ass, hard. “You’ve gotta quit the princess routine, pretty boy, or you’ll get in deep shit trouble.” Spencer doesn’t reply, but he gets on the couch, lets himself be tugged into position until he’s on his back with his head lolling over the low arm rest. It’s an awkward position and he can feel the tension in his neck as all his muscles are stretched. Ryan climbs on top of him, trapping his cock with his hips, grinding down hard. Spencer gasps and Brendon just grins wider.
“If you reckon you’re gonna get off anytime soon, think again” he smiles pleasantly while he tugs his pants down. He’s moving close and nodding shortly at Ryan, some silent exchange Spencer doesn’t understand until Ryan reaches round to cup his head, pulling it back further, making it feel like his neck is going to snap. He opens his mouth, panting for air and Brendon slides in easily, immediately hitting the back of his throat so hard he chokes. Brendon keeps smiling and pulls out a little, only to slam back in, harder. Brendon’s dick is probably shorter then Ryan’s if anything, but he makes up for that in girth, Spencer can feel his lips straining, the corners of his mouth feeling ready to split any second.
He can’t really use his tongue in this position so he keeps still, focusing on breathing, on keeping his jaw slack, on covering his teeth. Ryan lets go of his hair once he’s given into the pace and strokes him idly with one hand, using the other to wander all over his chest, occasionally digging his nails into the skin. Spencer can feel his own moans vibrating around Brendon’s cock and if the appreciative noises are anything to go by, so can Brendon.
“Damn, so fucking good,” Brendon mumbles before pulling away. “Enough for now, pretty. I’ve got other plans.” Ryan moves beside him, but he doesn’t get up. “He’s getting there,” Brendon observes smugly and Ryan beams at him proudly. “Yeah”, he whispers, “he’s getting there.” Spencer isn’t sure if they’re both talking about the same thing, all he can think about is that he’s hard. Much, much harder then he should be if this was just a friend thing.
Ryan knows him well enough to pick up on the thought and leans forward. “You like this, Spencer?” He’s asked this same question many times and Spencer always said yes, regardless of whether or not he actually did. This time though, he’s surprised to find he completely means it when he nods and chokes out a “yes”, neck still strained, voice sounding breathy and rough.
“I’m thinking I’d really like to beat your ass.” Brendon has that way of saying shit like that so casually, like there’s nothing to it. Ryan eyes Brendon suspiciously for a long moment, but then he nods. “Just… no punches, okay?” Brendon shakes his head. “I wouldn’t.”
Which is a small blessing really, seeing that Brendon really knows how to hurt with just his flat hand. Ryan’s spanked Spencer a couple of times, even tried a belt once, but those were pretty half-hearted attempts apparently. Brendon just goes for it, not letting up, one leg hooked over the back of Spencer’s knees, his hand coming down in a quick, deliberate rhythm. Spencer’s head is buried in Ryan’s lap and he feels Ryan’s fingers combing through his hair, comforting and so familiar. It’s not Ryan’s part in this that has him leaking pre-come all over Brendon’s thighs and he knows it. The pain spreads into an even burn, each slap building up the heat, and he moans, he can’t help it.
Ryan’s hand stills in his hair for a moment and Brendon pauses briefly and Spencer can’t not arch his back, can’t not stick his ass out, can’t not silently beg for more. “Oh wow,” he hears Brendon exclaim behind him before he picks up the pace again, hitting harder, moving down to the sensitive spot between his ass and thighs. Spencer squirms, willing Brendon to move on to another area, but Brendon’s set on keeping it right there for the moment.
“You wanna be good or you wanna be tied down?” Spencer forces himself to still again, to not wriggle around, to not buck up. It’s hard. He’s hard. It hurts, but in a good way, in a way that makes him forget how all this is meant to be for Ryan, how he’s just playing along.
“I’m pretty sure he’d be happy to do this all night,” he hears Brendon chuckle, “but my hand’s starting to hurt.” “Please.” The word escapes before he can stop himself and he just knows this is it. Now they know. Ryan leans down a little. “Please what, Spence?” “Please, I… just please. Don’t stop.” He breathes a sigh of relief when Brendon starts up again without commenting. Spencer briefly wonders if there are gonna be bruises, if he’s gonna feel this the next day whenever he sits down maybe. He hopes so.
“You wanna remember this, right?” Ryan asks from somewhere far away and Spencer nods helplessly, whimpering as Brendon focuses his onslaught on his thighs once more. Ryan knows him too well for hiding, especially right now. He feels like he’s been ripped open, like he’s coming undone in their hands and meeting some alien person that’s been living inside of him all this time, terrified to come out. He’s babbling into Ryan’s lap incoherently, something about how much he wants, needs, anything at all, please, whatthefuckever. He is so gone.
Brendon stops. “You want real pain, Spencer?” he asks, sounding like he means it. Spencer nods weakly and Brendon kicks his legs apart roughly, grabbing his balls and tugging. Spencer screams as white hot flashes of light explode behind his eyes. Brendon lets up for a moment, only to squeeze tighter moments later. “Like that?” Spencer can’t speak, the words turn into garbled nonsense in his throat, a choked sob that should make no sense except they understand anyway. Brendon leans forward, his crotch pressing into Spencer’s burning ass, he’s sliding his arms underneath Spencer’s chest, finding nipples and pinching, hard. Spencer jolts, almost throwing Brendon off balance. Brendon moves back and turns him round. Ryan’s looking down at him, his expression pleased. “Shit, Spence,” he mumbles.
“Hold his wrists, Ryan.” Spencer lifts his arms above his head and Ryan grabs them with one hand, bearing down on them with as much force as his position permits before deciding it’s awkward. He casually pushes Spencer off and gets up, moving far enough up on the couch to really pin Spencer’s hands down, holding on tightly.
Brendon’s biting his way down Spencer’s neck and towards his nipples, trapping each of them in turn between his sharp teeth until Spencer can’t feel anything but fucking burning heat washing over him. When Brendon’s hand moves back down to stroke his cock, he bites his lips hard enough to draw blood.
“Ryan, please…” Ryan looks down at him, still clenching his hands around Spencer’s wrists. “No.” he says curtly. “Please, Ryan, please, fuck…” “DON’T FUCKING BEG. I SAID NO.” Spencer knows Brendon is smiling as he’s teasing his cock, running his fingers up and down the shaft with too little friction to make him come, but jesus, he wants to. Ryan said no, though. He can’t. He’s not allowed. When Brendon slaps his cock, he arches off the couch so violently he can hear his spine crack. “Fuck!”
Brendon does it again, harder. Then, he moves away. Spencer wants to cry out for him to come back, but he doesn’t dare. Ryan said not to.
“Fuck his brains out, Ry. All yours now.” Brendon sits down on one of the armchairs, a relaxed, content smile on his face as he reaches down to wrap a hand around his own dick. Ryan doesn’t even waste a second, getting up and flipping Spencer over with surprising strength before spitting on his fingers carelessly and forcing three of them into Spencer quickly, barely giving him time to adjust before he yanks them out and pushes back in again. Spencer’s still not making a sound, he’s biting his own arm to hold it back until Ryan says it’s okay to.
“Wanna hear you”, Ryan grits out, roughly pulling Spencer’s cheeks apart. “Ask for it.” “JesusRyanplease. Fuck me,” Spencer all but screams and Ryan drives into him, burying himself to the hilt. Brendon gasps softly and tightens his grip on his own cock.
“PleaseRy. Jesusfuckingharderplease.” Ryan complies. Spencer’s gonna feel this tomorrow for sure, probably a good while beyond that. Brendon’s so fucking close now, watching Spencer writhing and moaning and fucking begging, his pale body pushing back against Ryan. He gets up from the arm-chair and comes all over Spencer’s back with a small groan, smiling at Ryan, grateful that he’d let him. Ryan smirks and licks some of the sticky white stuff off Spencer’s back, running his tongue over his full lips appreciatively. “Come. Now,” he gasps and sinks his teeth into Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer complies, coming hard enough so his vision blurs briefly, shaking as he feels Ryan shooting his load, hot and deep inside him.
All three of them are panting and Ryan collapses on the sofa without bothering to pull out while Brendon slumps down on the floor, one hand on Ryan’s neck, one in Spencer’s hair. They remain like that for a long time, but eventually, Ryan moves, carefully detaching himself from Spencer only to help him up.
Spencer realizes just how much his ass hurts, inside and out, but it doesn’t matter anymore, not after this. He curls up against Ryan and reaches out to pull Brendon closer, too. “Thanks,” he whispers, not even sure why he feels he needs to say it. Both of them smile at him and Ryan kisses his forehead. “Anytime.” Brendon giggles.