You've got everything now
Title: You’ve got everything now
Author: Raven
Rating: NC-17 (no kidding)
Pairings: Spencer/Brendon, Shane/Ryan
Warnings: D/s, angsting, language, clusterfucks, excessive use of italics
Disclaimer: yeah, lies. Title by the Smiths.
A/N: I did it! Christ, I never thought I’d actually live to see the day I’d get Ryan to get over himself, but it’s here. Chronicles, obviously. Brendon talking.
Sometimes, there are moments when Spencer and Shane go off to do whatever they’re doing (plotting, Brendon thinks, hatching evil, nasty plans in between joints and bouts of psychoanalysis), moments when Jon’s not around, moments when it’s just Ryan and him, both their minds not on lyrics or guitars but on their men, sitting next door sharing secrets.
Since Ryan pretty much breaking down and confessing he doesn’t want Brendon seeing him with Shane, the mood’s different. The mood’s a lot similar to the beginning of the band, when he couldn’t quite read Ryan. Ryan’s guarded, antsy and sullen, that stupid fucking façade Brendon’s worked so hard on breaking through.
Cause Ryan… while Shane is Brendon’s world, Ryan’s… special. Brendon hasn’t managed to forget how much he needed Ryan’s approval back then, how much he wanted Ryan to like him.
Ryan’s also seriously difficult to talk to in moments like this, Brendon’s learned that the hard way. Peeling away the layers of Ryan’s defences is Ryan’s least favourite thing in the world and he fights dirty to protect himself. He fights in that quiet, snarky, off-hand way that fucking hurts. Cause Ryan’s maybe not good with people, but he’s good at people. He knows how to deliver the kill with a half-shrug and blank facial expression. Brendon knows.
“I’m sorry”, he mumbles quietly, not sure what he’s apologizing for, but he must’ve done something to bring on this awkward mood, something that pissed Ryan off.
Ryan stares at him. “What?”
Stares at him for a moment longer until Brendon starts fidgeting and mentally beating himself up for even… whatever he’s done.
“Bren, seriously, what the fuck?”
“I. I’m sorry, okay? I don’t even know. I didn’t mean to,” he tries again. Ryan just sits there for a long moment before he swallows hard and looks away.
“Bren,” he tries, voice raw and rough. He trails off and runs a hand through his hair, the gesture nervous and frantic. “Bren. Shit.” He doesn’t say anything else, repeating it after another moment of struggling. “Shit!”
And then suddenly, Ryan’s arms are around him and Ryan’s holding on hard enough to bruise and Brendon doesn’t get it, he really doesn’t, but relaxes into the hug slowly, cause hugs are easy. Hugs are a lot easier then conversation.
“Fuck, Brendon”, Ryan mumbles somewhere between his shoulder and his hair and he sounds panicked. “No, okay? You didn’t. You didn’t do anything.”
“I didn’t?” Brendon tries, sounding startled and Ryan pulls away and looks straight at him, not hiding, not even trying to keep his eyes vacant.
“No.” He blinks and Brendon wants to back off, doesn’t want to make this harder on Ryan, cause that expression is damn close to Ryan falling apart.
“No,” Ryan repeats, as if to answer Brendon’s thought. “I. Bren. Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Are we having a moment, guys?” Shane asks from the door, and yeah, Ryan jumps a foot, but his eyes find Shane’s and he calms down again, sort of.
“Shane, I. Fuck.” He gestures at Brendon helplessly and Shane’s next to Brendon in a flash, holding on to him. “Hey, I’ve got you”, he whispers and Brendon wants to crawl inside Shane and hide there forever just so he doesn’t have to see Ryan struggling when Shane looks at him over the top of Brendon’s head. “What the fuck happened?” he prompts quietly.
“I don’t know”, Ryan replies unhappily. “I. He. He apologized. And. Shit, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t. When I said.”
Shane sighs and carefully disentangles himself from Brendon.
“Guys”, he says softly, smile confusion and concern evident in his voice all at once. “How about I get us all some coffee and some Spencer and we talk about this?”
He gets up, not waiting for a reply and when he comes back, he brings four cups of coffee and one Spencer Smith, who settles down behind Ryan on the couch, wrapping his legs around him. Shane quickly follows suite and Brendon leans back into him with a small content sigh.
“Bren, what’s the problem?” Shane mumbles around the rim of his mug and Brendon would kinda like to know, too. He doesn’t.
“I just thought. Ryan said. Ryan said he didn’t want me there and then you went off and. I don’t want Ryan mad at me?”
Spencer rolls his eyes and pulls Ryan closer. “Ry?”
“I’m not. It’s not that at all.” Spencer mulls that over for a bit.
“Then what, Ry? You should… Brendon’s obviously worried. So maybe, if you told him why you didn’t want him there?”
It takes forever to get another word out of Ryan, but eventually, he caves. He really does cave, too, walls crumbling and fucking earthquakes in his eyes, but then he looks at Brendon.
“Brendon knows”, he begins, “Brendon’s… Brendon’s good at everything I’m not and.” He breaks off abruptly, vaguely struggling against Spencer’s tight hold around him, not managing to get away. Cause if he could, Brendon knows he’d walk away from this, dig in and rebuild for a while and then pretend it never happened.
“Ryan,” Spencer grumbles, muscles in his arms straining to keep his grip.
“But he’s good. And I. I always fuck everything up. And.”
Brendon’s struggling too, for about half a second before Shane lets go of him and he lands somewhere close to Ryan, not quite on the couch and not quite on the floor and he doesn’t even know what to do. At all. Cause Ryan… Ryan’s shiny. When Brendon looks at Ryan, he sees through broken and hurt and defensive and he’s fucking blinded by so much beauty that he doesn’t have words for it. Words that Ryan gives him, in lyrics that blow his mind. Ryan writing… he can just stare at Ryan for hours on end as Ryan battles with thoughts and bleeds them over pages of note books and.
Yeah, he doesn’t manage to get any of that out, just buries his face in Ryan’s lap and starts crying. Cause it hurts and it isn’t fair for Ryan to feel that way. Ryan shouldn’t feel that way. Brendon knows what hating yourself feels like and Ryan just shouldn’t. Ever. Spencer tangles a hand in Brendon’s hair and strokes his head softly while Shane clears his throat.
“Ryan, Brendon loves you. He loves you. He’s not… this isn’t a race, Ryan. It’s not about who is better at anything.”
“I. I made him cry”, Ryan points out weakly, just another argument in a line of endless reasons why Ryan thinks he’s worthless.
Shane shakes his head. “It’s just stuff, okay? It’s. Bren?”
And Brendon needs to explain, really. He can’t let Ryan have this bullet point on his list, it’s not fair. Cause he knows this is his shit, his fear. His demons. Not fair to let pick Ryan up the tab for that, not fair at all.
So he does explain, or tries to, face still hidden away, Spencer’s hand still in his hair. It’s far from easy, even though he’s been over this a million times with Shane. He explains, half whispers and secrets and hurt and fear and humiliation and bullshit. Bullshit. Cause it actually is.
Deep down, Brendon knows. Knows he isn’t a bad person. Knows he isn’t weak. Knows he’s talented and lovable and everything. It’s just so easy to forget sometimes when he remembers things about his parents, about failing to live up to expectations, about unconditional love being everything but.
Ryan listens. Ryan listens to every word and when Brendon finally dares look up, Ryan’s eyes are dark with rage, blazing with so much anger that Brendon almost pulls away, but Spencer holds onto him.
“Fuck”, Ryan spits and immediately lowers his voice when Brendon flinches, shaking his head quickly. “Sorry. No. Don’t be scared, Bren? Please?” He waits until Brendon’s relaxed against him again.
“My dad,” he chokes out and Brendon wants to stop him, wants to tell him he doesn’t have to. They all know, sort of. Ryan struggles ahead, though. Maybe he does need to. “He wasn’t… I, when he was drinking, I knew he didn’t mean it. I could… hold onto that. But your folks... Brendon, they were wrong. They were fucking wrong. They shouldn’t have. You’re the best, for fuck’s sake. You don’t deserve anyone telling you different.”
This time, when Brendon tries to pull away, Spencer doesn’t stop him, lets go of him enough for Brendon to turn his head and look up at Ryan.
“You are”, he replies and there’s a moment’s silence before Shane laughs softly. “Not a race”, he repeats. “You’re both fucking awesome, guys.”
And it’s then that Ryan nods at Brendon, just once, before looking at Shane.
“Do it.”
Shane doesn’t ask, just exchanges a glance with Spencer and jerks his head and Ryan disentangles himself from their pile, sliding down to his knees and moving over to Shane without a word. Crawling.
Brendon freezes, but Spencer’s there, right behind him, pulling him up until he’s taken Ryan’s place, back pressed to Spencer’s chest and Spencer holding on to him. Spencer’s incredibly good at holding people. Spencer is everything safe in this world and that’s how Brendon doesn’t scream, doesn’t tell anyone to stop and not break Ryan any more. Also, there’s Shane, who is just as much as a rock at Spencer, who knows how to take what’s offered to him and not abuse it.
Shane’s commands are soft, measured and careful, but they are commands nonetheless, there’s no doubt about that. And Ryan listens. Ryan gives in. Ryan doesn’t fight when Shane slowly starts undressing him, laying him bare inside and out until Ryan’s on his knees again, naked now, head bowed and tentatively leaning into the touch as Shane’s running a hand through his hair.
“Tell me what you want, Ry” Shane asks quietly and without a moments hesitation, Ryan lifts his gaze and fixes it on Brendon before he stares up at Shane, pleading.
“You want Brendon, Ry?” Shane waits for a reply, but Ryan just nods, not saying anything. Ryan giving that up, giving up his one weapon, his fucking words that mean more then anything in the world to him, that’s almost more then Brendon can take.
Shane watches with a stunned smile as Ryan crawls back over to Brendon and buries his face in Brendon’s crotch, nuzzling the fabric of his pants softly and then looking up to see if this is okay, if it’s allowed.
“Shit, Ry. Anything, okay? Anything you want,” Brendon blurts out and he’s not sure how he even manages to speak. Spencer’s arms sneak around Brendon’s waist and struggle with the buckle of his belt and buttons and zippers and fuck, hurry, Brendon thinks, cause it’s too much to watch Ryan licking his lips and almost smiling and his eyes, god, Ryan’s eyes.
And then, when Spencer’s finally got all those stupid layers of clothes out of the way, Ryan turns round to look at Shane and the expression passing over Shane’s face is at least as awesome, it’s… yeah. No words for that one, but Brendon drinks it in and he understands, no words required.
Brendon feels Spencer tensing behind him and tries turning around enough to meet Spencer’s eyes, but that doesn’t quite work, so he just wriggles his hips a little and when that doesn’t seem to get the point across, he whispers “please, Spence? Please fuck me?”
It takes a little manoeuvring for Spencer to get his cock out and Brendon curses the stupid person who figured inventing clothes was a good idea, but somehow, they manage and Brendon’s straddling Spencer’s thighs and Ryan’s still just right there and Shane, somewhere along the line has moved behind Ryan and he’s also found condoms and lube, cause Shane’s magic.
Brendon watches, transfixed as Shane slicks up his fingers and rips open a condom with his teeth and drops his pants carelessly and he can’t, okay? He can’t explain how special this is to him, what these three people mean to him, how much he’s hoped and fantasised and wanted and how it suddenly all becomes real.
Spencer’s pushing into him and Ryan’s taking him into his mouth carefully and Shane’s just as careful easing himself into Ryan, looking at Brendon and smiling that fucking radiant, blissful way and.
“Fuck”, he groans and Spencer chuckles somewhere close to his ear while Shane beams at him and Ryan sighs contently and fucking purrs as he takes him in deeper and there’s just no way. No fucking way Brendon gets all of this, all he’s ever dreamed and more as all of them start moving slowly, deliberately, easily settling into a rhythm that works for all of them.
Shane’s fucking Ryan with long, deep thrusts and that’s guiding everyone else’s pace, Ryan’s mouth moving on his cock and coaxing his hips into slow, gentle rolling motion on Spencer’s dick and when he’s close, so damn close he’s sure he’s not gonna last another second Ryan takes him in even deeper and sucks hard and looks up at him and fuck asking for permission, cause he has no time, he just comes and clenches around Spencer and Ryan’s swallowing and Shane isn’t even glaring and apparently he, too, has totally forgotten that Brendon’s supposed to ask cause he looks like he’s pretty busy just dealing with his own orgasm and when it’s over, Brendon doesn’t even know what to do with all that emotion surging through him, doesn’t know who to thank first.
He leans down, pulling Ryan up into a fierce kiss, tasting his own come on Ryan’s tongue and Ryan kisses him back shyly, nibbling on his lower lip before meeting Brendon’s tongue with his own and as much as he obviously can’t see it, he knows Shane and Spencer are looking at each other somewhere above them. He’d also bet there’s a lot of smirking.
It takes forever for anyone to move, but they end up squashed together on the couch in their various stages of undress and still, no one’s talking. There’s nothing to say, nothing to ask, they all know this is it.
Author: Raven
Rating: NC-17 (no kidding)
Pairings: Spencer/Brendon, Shane/Ryan
Warnings: D/s, angsting, language, clusterfucks, excessive use of italics
Disclaimer: yeah, lies. Title by the Smiths.
A/N: I did it! Christ, I never thought I’d actually live to see the day I’d get Ryan to get over himself, but it’s here. Chronicles, obviously. Brendon talking.
Sometimes, there are moments when Spencer and Shane go off to do whatever they’re doing (plotting, Brendon thinks, hatching evil, nasty plans in between joints and bouts of psychoanalysis), moments when Jon’s not around, moments when it’s just Ryan and him, both their minds not on lyrics or guitars but on their men, sitting next door sharing secrets.
Since Ryan pretty much breaking down and confessing he doesn’t want Brendon seeing him with Shane, the mood’s different. The mood’s a lot similar to the beginning of the band, when he couldn’t quite read Ryan. Ryan’s guarded, antsy and sullen, that stupid fucking façade Brendon’s worked so hard on breaking through.
Cause Ryan… while Shane is Brendon’s world, Ryan’s… special. Brendon hasn’t managed to forget how much he needed Ryan’s approval back then, how much he wanted Ryan to like him.
Ryan’s also seriously difficult to talk to in moments like this, Brendon’s learned that the hard way. Peeling away the layers of Ryan’s defences is Ryan’s least favourite thing in the world and he fights dirty to protect himself. He fights in that quiet, snarky, off-hand way that fucking hurts. Cause Ryan’s maybe not good with people, but he’s good at people. He knows how to deliver the kill with a half-shrug and blank facial expression. Brendon knows.
“I’m sorry”, he mumbles quietly, not sure what he’s apologizing for, but he must’ve done something to bring on this awkward mood, something that pissed Ryan off.
Ryan stares at him. “What?”
Stares at him for a moment longer until Brendon starts fidgeting and mentally beating himself up for even… whatever he’s done.
“Bren, seriously, what the fuck?”
“I. I’m sorry, okay? I don’t even know. I didn’t mean to,” he tries again. Ryan just sits there for a long moment before he swallows hard and looks away.
“Bren,” he tries, voice raw and rough. He trails off and runs a hand through his hair, the gesture nervous and frantic. “Bren. Shit.” He doesn’t say anything else, repeating it after another moment of struggling. “Shit!”
And then suddenly, Ryan’s arms are around him and Ryan’s holding on hard enough to bruise and Brendon doesn’t get it, he really doesn’t, but relaxes into the hug slowly, cause hugs are easy. Hugs are a lot easier then conversation.
“Fuck, Brendon”, Ryan mumbles somewhere between his shoulder and his hair and he sounds panicked. “No, okay? You didn’t. You didn’t do anything.”
“I didn’t?” Brendon tries, sounding startled and Ryan pulls away and looks straight at him, not hiding, not even trying to keep his eyes vacant.
“No.” He blinks and Brendon wants to back off, doesn’t want to make this harder on Ryan, cause that expression is damn close to Ryan falling apart.
“No,” Ryan repeats, as if to answer Brendon’s thought. “I. Bren. Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Are we having a moment, guys?” Shane asks from the door, and yeah, Ryan jumps a foot, but his eyes find Shane’s and he calms down again, sort of.
“Shane, I. Fuck.” He gestures at Brendon helplessly and Shane’s next to Brendon in a flash, holding on to him. “Hey, I’ve got you”, he whispers and Brendon wants to crawl inside Shane and hide there forever just so he doesn’t have to see Ryan struggling when Shane looks at him over the top of Brendon’s head. “What the fuck happened?” he prompts quietly.
“I don’t know”, Ryan replies unhappily. “I. He. He apologized. And. Shit, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t. When I said.”
Shane sighs and carefully disentangles himself from Brendon.
“Guys”, he says softly, smile confusion and concern evident in his voice all at once. “How about I get us all some coffee and some Spencer and we talk about this?”
He gets up, not waiting for a reply and when he comes back, he brings four cups of coffee and one Spencer Smith, who settles down behind Ryan on the couch, wrapping his legs around him. Shane quickly follows suite and Brendon leans back into him with a small content sigh.
“Bren, what’s the problem?” Shane mumbles around the rim of his mug and Brendon would kinda like to know, too. He doesn’t.
“I just thought. Ryan said. Ryan said he didn’t want me there and then you went off and. I don’t want Ryan mad at me?”
Spencer rolls his eyes and pulls Ryan closer. “Ry?”
“I’m not. It’s not that at all.” Spencer mulls that over for a bit.
“Then what, Ry? You should… Brendon’s obviously worried. So maybe, if you told him why you didn’t want him there?”
It takes forever to get another word out of Ryan, but eventually, he caves. He really does cave, too, walls crumbling and fucking earthquakes in his eyes, but then he looks at Brendon.
“Brendon knows”, he begins, “Brendon’s… Brendon’s good at everything I’m not and.” He breaks off abruptly, vaguely struggling against Spencer’s tight hold around him, not managing to get away. Cause if he could, Brendon knows he’d walk away from this, dig in and rebuild for a while and then pretend it never happened.
“Ryan,” Spencer grumbles, muscles in his arms straining to keep his grip.
“But he’s good. And I. I always fuck everything up. And.”
Brendon’s struggling too, for about half a second before Shane lets go of him and he lands somewhere close to Ryan, not quite on the couch and not quite on the floor and he doesn’t even know what to do. At all. Cause Ryan… Ryan’s shiny. When Brendon looks at Ryan, he sees through broken and hurt and defensive and he’s fucking blinded by so much beauty that he doesn’t have words for it. Words that Ryan gives him, in lyrics that blow his mind. Ryan writing… he can just stare at Ryan for hours on end as Ryan battles with thoughts and bleeds them over pages of note books and.
Yeah, he doesn’t manage to get any of that out, just buries his face in Ryan’s lap and starts crying. Cause it hurts and it isn’t fair for Ryan to feel that way. Ryan shouldn’t feel that way. Brendon knows what hating yourself feels like and Ryan just shouldn’t. Ever. Spencer tangles a hand in Brendon’s hair and strokes his head softly while Shane clears his throat.
“Ryan, Brendon loves you. He loves you. He’s not… this isn’t a race, Ryan. It’s not about who is better at anything.”
“I. I made him cry”, Ryan points out weakly, just another argument in a line of endless reasons why Ryan thinks he’s worthless.
Shane shakes his head. “It’s just stuff, okay? It’s. Bren?”
And Brendon needs to explain, really. He can’t let Ryan have this bullet point on his list, it’s not fair. Cause he knows this is his shit, his fear. His demons. Not fair to let pick Ryan up the tab for that, not fair at all.
So he does explain, or tries to, face still hidden away, Spencer’s hand still in his hair. It’s far from easy, even though he’s been over this a million times with Shane. He explains, half whispers and secrets and hurt and fear and humiliation and bullshit. Bullshit. Cause it actually is.
Deep down, Brendon knows. Knows he isn’t a bad person. Knows he isn’t weak. Knows he’s talented and lovable and everything. It’s just so easy to forget sometimes when he remembers things about his parents, about failing to live up to expectations, about unconditional love being everything but.
Ryan listens. Ryan listens to every word and when Brendon finally dares look up, Ryan’s eyes are dark with rage, blazing with so much anger that Brendon almost pulls away, but Spencer holds onto him.
“Fuck”, Ryan spits and immediately lowers his voice when Brendon flinches, shaking his head quickly. “Sorry. No. Don’t be scared, Bren? Please?” He waits until Brendon’s relaxed against him again.
“My dad,” he chokes out and Brendon wants to stop him, wants to tell him he doesn’t have to. They all know, sort of. Ryan struggles ahead, though. Maybe he does need to. “He wasn’t… I, when he was drinking, I knew he didn’t mean it. I could… hold onto that. But your folks... Brendon, they were wrong. They were fucking wrong. They shouldn’t have. You’re the best, for fuck’s sake. You don’t deserve anyone telling you different.”
This time, when Brendon tries to pull away, Spencer doesn’t stop him, lets go of him enough for Brendon to turn his head and look up at Ryan.
“You are”, he replies and there’s a moment’s silence before Shane laughs softly. “Not a race”, he repeats. “You’re both fucking awesome, guys.”
And it’s then that Ryan nods at Brendon, just once, before looking at Shane.
“Do it.”
Shane doesn’t ask, just exchanges a glance with Spencer and jerks his head and Ryan disentangles himself from their pile, sliding down to his knees and moving over to Shane without a word. Crawling.
Brendon freezes, but Spencer’s there, right behind him, pulling him up until he’s taken Ryan’s place, back pressed to Spencer’s chest and Spencer holding on to him. Spencer’s incredibly good at holding people. Spencer is everything safe in this world and that’s how Brendon doesn’t scream, doesn’t tell anyone to stop and not break Ryan any more. Also, there’s Shane, who is just as much as a rock at Spencer, who knows how to take what’s offered to him and not abuse it.
Shane’s commands are soft, measured and careful, but they are commands nonetheless, there’s no doubt about that. And Ryan listens. Ryan gives in. Ryan doesn’t fight when Shane slowly starts undressing him, laying him bare inside and out until Ryan’s on his knees again, naked now, head bowed and tentatively leaning into the touch as Shane’s running a hand through his hair.
“Tell me what you want, Ry” Shane asks quietly and without a moments hesitation, Ryan lifts his gaze and fixes it on Brendon before he stares up at Shane, pleading.
“You want Brendon, Ry?” Shane waits for a reply, but Ryan just nods, not saying anything. Ryan giving that up, giving up his one weapon, his fucking words that mean more then anything in the world to him, that’s almost more then Brendon can take.
Shane watches with a stunned smile as Ryan crawls back over to Brendon and buries his face in Brendon’s crotch, nuzzling the fabric of his pants softly and then looking up to see if this is okay, if it’s allowed.
“Shit, Ry. Anything, okay? Anything you want,” Brendon blurts out and he’s not sure how he even manages to speak. Spencer’s arms sneak around Brendon’s waist and struggle with the buckle of his belt and buttons and zippers and fuck, hurry, Brendon thinks, cause it’s too much to watch Ryan licking his lips and almost smiling and his eyes, god, Ryan’s eyes.
And then, when Spencer’s finally got all those stupid layers of clothes out of the way, Ryan turns round to look at Shane and the expression passing over Shane’s face is at least as awesome, it’s… yeah. No words for that one, but Brendon drinks it in and he understands, no words required.
Brendon feels Spencer tensing behind him and tries turning around enough to meet Spencer’s eyes, but that doesn’t quite work, so he just wriggles his hips a little and when that doesn’t seem to get the point across, he whispers “please, Spence? Please fuck me?”
It takes a little manoeuvring for Spencer to get his cock out and Brendon curses the stupid person who figured inventing clothes was a good idea, but somehow, they manage and Brendon’s straddling Spencer’s thighs and Ryan’s still just right there and Shane, somewhere along the line has moved behind Ryan and he’s also found condoms and lube, cause Shane’s magic.
Brendon watches, transfixed as Shane slicks up his fingers and rips open a condom with his teeth and drops his pants carelessly and he can’t, okay? He can’t explain how special this is to him, what these three people mean to him, how much he’s hoped and fantasised and wanted and how it suddenly all becomes real.
Spencer’s pushing into him and Ryan’s taking him into his mouth carefully and Shane’s just as careful easing himself into Ryan, looking at Brendon and smiling that fucking radiant, blissful way and.
“Fuck”, he groans and Spencer chuckles somewhere close to his ear while Shane beams at him and Ryan sighs contently and fucking purrs as he takes him in deeper and there’s just no way. No fucking way Brendon gets all of this, all he’s ever dreamed and more as all of them start moving slowly, deliberately, easily settling into a rhythm that works for all of them.
Shane’s fucking Ryan with long, deep thrusts and that’s guiding everyone else’s pace, Ryan’s mouth moving on his cock and coaxing his hips into slow, gentle rolling motion on Spencer’s dick and when he’s close, so damn close he’s sure he’s not gonna last another second Ryan takes him in even deeper and sucks hard and looks up at him and fuck asking for permission, cause he has no time, he just comes and clenches around Spencer and Ryan’s swallowing and Shane isn’t even glaring and apparently he, too, has totally forgotten that Brendon’s supposed to ask cause he looks like he’s pretty busy just dealing with his own orgasm and when it’s over, Brendon doesn’t even know what to do with all that emotion surging through him, doesn’t know who to thank first.
He leans down, pulling Ryan up into a fierce kiss, tasting his own come on Ryan’s tongue and Ryan kisses him back shyly, nibbling on his lower lip before meeting Brendon’s tongue with his own and as much as he obviously can’t see it, he knows Shane and Spencer are looking at each other somewhere above them. He’d also bet there’s a lot of smirking.
It takes forever for anyone to move, but they end up squashed together on the couch in their various stages of undress and still, no one’s talking. There’s nothing to say, nothing to ask, they all know this is it.