FIC: We Started From (3/3), P!atD GSF, NC-17
When Ryan wakes up, Brendon's face is maybe a foot away from his.
Ryan recoils with an embarrassing squeak.
"Hi!" Brendon chirps. His hair is flat on one side, and he's lying on top of Ryan's blanket so Ryan can't really move.
"Weren't you Jon when I fell asleep?" Ryan asks when he recovers.
"Nope," Brendon says. "I'm pretty sure I was me, because I don't remember you jerking me off."
Ryan buries his face in his pillow and waits for Brendon to ask about it.
"So did I hear you ask Jon to join the band last night?"
Okay, so that maybe wasn't what Ryan was expecting Brendon to ask. He looks up from his pillow to ask, "How did you even hear that?"
"I have excellent hearing," Brendon says. "Also, my bunk is, like, right on top of yours. But the point is, that was a yes, right? As in, yes, Jon's joining?" Brendon's babbling. It's nothing new, but the sheer excitement in his eyes is more intense than Ryan's ever seen it.
"Yeah," Ryan says, and there's no reason to suppress the smile, so he doesn't.
Brendon doesn't say anything at first. He's too busy grinning, broad and bright, and pulling Ryan into a full-body hug, squeezing tight.
"I knew you'd change your mind!" Brendon says then, letting Ryan go but staying close, touch flitting from Ryan's arms to his ribs to his hands. "This is going to be awesome. Jon's going to be so good for us."
"Where is Jon?" Ryan asks.
"He left as soon as we parked and took Spencer with him. I think they had you-things to talk about. I'd feel kinda left out, but I actually have you here, so maybe not," Brendon says.
Ryan has no idea what to say to that. He considers Jon and Spencer talking about him, talking about what happened. The combined knowledge of Spencer, who knows more about him than anyone, and Jon, who Ryan has told so much to... Ryan knows them. What they're doing now is taking it out of his hands. And usually Ryan would hate that; he can't stand not being in control. But this, he's given it to them, and the loss of power is freeing.
He takes a deep breath and sighs and sinks into the sheets deeper.
"Are you going to take a nap with me?" Brendon asks. He shifts until he can wiggle under the blanket with Ryan, then snuggles closer, warm and natural in Ryan's space. Ryan likes the way Brendon feels like he belongs here.
"I actually just woke up," Ryan says anyway.
"Like you couldn't use more sleep," Brendon says. He pushes his forehead against Ryan's neck, breath fanning across his collarbone, and pushes one leg between Ryan's. "Relax," Brendon murmurs, stroking a hand down Ryan's side, comfortably, like they touch like this all the time.
Ryan does.
* * *
The next time Ryan sees Jon and Spencer is in the dressing room, and just seeing them, meeting their eyes, is enough to make Ryan's heart seize up with so much -- some worry, a lot of uncertainty. More excitement.
"William is way pissed at you guys," Jon says as soon as he and Spencer walk through the door. He doesn't look too upset about it.
"Dude, I haven't even seen him today," Brendon says. "How could I have done anything to piss him off?"
"For stealing Jon, dumbass," Spencer says, but his hand rests fleetingly on Brendon's hip when he slips past him to go get his stage clothes.
"He's mad?" Ryan asks. It makes sense, he guesses. If anyone took Jon away from him, he would set out to ruin their lives, but fuck if he cares if William's upset. Jon is theirs now.
"Well, yeah," Spencer says, voice muffled with distance.
"I am pretty irreplaceable," Jon says. "And awesome." He says it with a self-deprecating smile.
Ryan says, "I think you are," and Jon's smile shifts, turns genuine.
"Poor Bill," Brendon says. "Maybe we should get him a fruit basket or something. As an apology."
"I don't think fruit baskets are very apologetic," Ryan says. "They're more like something a boss would buy for his employees because he doesn't know anything about any of them and what they like."
Brendon thinks for a minute. "So what you're saying is we should buy Bill some Jack and Pixy Stix?" Brendon asks.
"Huh," Jon says. "Bill really does like Jack and Pixy Stix. Not together, but."
"Exactly," Brendon says, and Ryan smiles fondly.
Jon's standing at Ryan's elbow, and he watches in the mirror when Ryan goes back to lining his eyes. When Ryan finishes, he just stands there, looking back at Jon, quiet and warm and so fucking happy. Jon steps forward, wrapping his arms around Ryan from behind, arms looping around his middle until he's pressed against Ryan's back.
Ryan can see Brendon in the mirror, and when he looks at him, Brendon's eyes are bright and interested, but not at all invasive. Because this is his, too, or it will be. The lines are still there -- Jon and Ryan, then Spencer and Brendon -- but the combination of last night and this, here, now, them letting Brendon in on this, they're smudging the lines, letting them bleed into each other.
Ryan wonders if it will happen like this, slow and inexorable: Jon holding onto Ryan in front of Brendon, Spencer touching Brendon so they can see. Then maybe kissing, touching, sharing each other little by little. Or maybe it'll be sudden, Jon pulling Brendon down onto his lap when Brendon gets too hyper, hushing him with his mouth, and the rest crumbling after until all the lines are obliterated.
Ryan doesn't know. What's more, he doesn't want to know just yet. Jon and Spencer probably know, have probably already talked about what will happen, but Ryan just wants it to come to him, unexpected and all the sweeter for it.
Jon's still wrapped around Ryan when Spencer comes back in, clothes hangers hooked over two fingers. Spencer doesn't do anything overdramatic like stop in his tracks, but he does look at Ryan and smile. When Spencer's and Jon's eyes meet, Ryan's assumptions are confirmed by the knowing look they exchange They know, and they'll take care of it. All Ryan has to do is sit back and enjoy. And Brendon... Well, he's always liked surprises.
When they get onstage, Brendon wastes no time introducing Jon as one of them. Jon's smiling so hard, enough to outshine the stage lights, but then, they all are.
* * *
They have a hotel that night, and as much as that just seems really convenient given what Ryan's thinking might happen, it's not just a happy coincidence. When Ryan was working up his courage on the bus last night, it was calculated to be the night before a hotel. As presumptuous as it seemed, he'd also thought that if anything went wrong, at least he'd have a night where he could be alone to be humiliated.
He likes it a lot better this way, though.
Zack hands out keycards when Spencer's still in the shower, so Brendon takes Spencer's for him, which would have left Ryan the odd man out, except.
"Jon," Ryan says.
Jon is toweling his hair dry and lets the towel drop around his shoulders. "Yeah?"
Ryan pushes the extra keycard into Jon's hand, closing Jon's broad fingers around it. "Since you're going to stay with us from now on."
Jon stares down at his hand, expressionless enough that for a moment Ryan thinks of the black scrawl of marker across Jon's wrist and Jon turning away from him to stare out a window. But then Jon nods and slides the key into his back pocket. "Thanks," he says.
Ryan nods.
"I'm. I've got some stuff I need to get from the guys" -- the other guys now, the Academy -- "and put on the bus. It might take me a little while, but I'll be there," Jon says. "Okay?"
Ryan says, "Yeah, okay."
And it is.
* * *
Jon knocks on the door just after Ryan's out of the shower. He'd already showered at the venue, but that was fast, perfunctory, and Ryan was feeling jittery and eager enough that he wasn't going to turn down a chance to take it slow and let hot water pound onto his back and chest and get him loose and relaxed.
That's how he's feeling when he lets Jon in, towel wrapped low on his hips.
Jon steps right into Ryan's space when Ryan doesn't step back, has to get right up against Ryan to get the door closed behind him. Then Jon steps forward more, forcing Ryan back a step at a time, until his knees hit the bed and he sits down hard on the edge of the mattress.
"Hey," Jon says, and he looks calm, but his voice is lower than usual, just a little.
"Hey," Ryan says. He puts his hands on Jon's hips, pulls him right to the bed, so his knees are bumping against it, bracketed by Ryan's. Ryan leans forward and presses his forehead into Jon's sternum. Jon puts his hands on Ryan's shoulders, pets a little, and Ryan pulls at Jon's hips, lowers his head and presses his tongue into Jon's navel through his T-shirt, presses until it's wet and Jon pushes down on Ryan's shoulders, forcing him back on the bed.
"Thought I gave you a keycard," Ryan says even as Jon's urging him all the way onto the mattress, tugging the towel away. The front of Jon's shirt is damp in spots from where it was pressed against Ryan's skin.
"You did," Jon says, dropping to his hands and knees over Ryan. His eyes sweep over Ryan's skin, bare and still a little wet, back sticking to the sheets. Jon's hands skim down Ryan's side easily, then Jon's rubbing at his hip, his thigh, warm and firm and making Ryan feel like melting into the mattress.
Then Jon says, "I gave it to Spencer."
There's enough gap between the question and the answer that Ryan, lulled by Jon's touch, has almost forgotten what the question was. But then, "Wait, what?"
It comes out in a huff when Jon drops down on top of Ryan, licking the space behind Ryan's left ear and pushing between Ryan's legs. Jon's shorts feel soft against Ryan's thighs, against his cock, and as a distraction, it's really effective.
"What?" Ryan repeats, pushing against Jon's chest. Except his hands sort of forget to push and actually sweep up Jon's chest, to his shoulders, then end up wrapping around Jon's biceps instead, dragging him closer. Jon's sucking on Ryan's neck now, has been long enough that he's going to leave a mark, but maybe that's what he's trying to do. Ryan whimpers.
"He's going to bring Brendon," Jon says, "in maybe fifteen, twenty minutes. I wanted you to myself a little bit longer first."
Jon's lips drag across the skin of Ryan's neck damply as he speaks, and Ryan's fingers dig into Jon's arm at the surge of fear and anticipation and arousal that comes with knowing that this isn't going to evolve slowly, it's going to happen now. Spencer and Brendon are going to be here, finally, with him and with Jon, and oh.
Jon pushes forward, fitting one leg between Ryan's and rubbing his cock in the hollow by Ryan's hipbone. "You want it, right?" Jon asks, low and intimate, and Ryan rolls his hips up mindlessly before his brain catches up.
"Want what?" he asks. "Them? You?"
"Both," Jon says.
"Yes," Ryan moans it out, arching again. "All of it."
"Good," Jon says, and he's lifting off of Ryan, stripping quickly and efficiently. But then it's like Jon gets distracted once he's naked, because he doesn't get back in bed right away. He stands there, looking down at Ryan, and smiles.
Ryan frowns, asks, "What are you doing?" and reaches for Jon's hand.
Only, before Ryan can grasp his hand, pull Jon back to him, Jon wraps that hand around his cock. He pumps his fist slowly a few times, and Ryan watches. Ryan's hand is reaching out still, forgotten, because Jon's cock is hardening in his hand, filling, and there's an ache in Ryan's chest from wanting so much. He wonders if this is how Jon felt when he was watching Ryan last night.
"Come here, come here," Ryan demands.
Jon twists his wrist, and Ryan stares, transfixed, because the head of Jon's cock is slick and dark and shiny, and Jon's being such a fucking tease, Christ.
Ryan's moving before he's even thought about it. He rolls closer to the edge of the bed and grabs Jon's free wrist. He jerks on it, tumbling Jon down onto the bed.
"Goddamnit, Jon," he says, and Jon just laughs.
"I like you impatient," Jon says around a smug grin, and Ryan rolls his eyes.
"Come here," Ryan says again, settling onto to his back. Jon starts to roll on top of him, but Ryan says, "Up," urging Jon onto his knees until Jon's straddling Ryan's hips. Ryan curls forward enough to get at the backs of Jon's thighs, presses his fingers there and tugs.
"Up," Ryan says again.
He can tell when Jon gets it because Jon goes totally still for just the barest moment, then his eyes drop to Ryan's mouth. Ryan licks at his lips, letting his tongue rest invitingly against his bottom lip.
Jon moves.
When Jon's there, straddling Ryan's chest, he leans forward, and Ryan's hands slide from Jon's thighs up to his ass, squeezing a little, can't help it, before one hand goes for Jon's cock. That's when he feels what Jon was leaning forward for -- he's tucking two pillows carefully under Ryan's head, propping him up and supporting his neck.
"Fucking sweet guy, aren't you, Jon Walker?" Ryan asks, and Jon looks down at him again, smiling a little. Then he rests his thumb against Ryan's chin, drawing Ryan's jaw down, getting his mouth open.
Ryan thinks it's times like these when people say their mouths go dry, but Jon opening up Ryan's mouth for his cock is one of the hottest things that's ever happened to Ryan. His mouth is fucking watering, saliva pooling from the wait. It feels like forever but really can't be long at all, because Ryan doesn't even have time to swallow before Jon's rubbing the head of his cock, full and flushed, across Ryan's bottom lip. Ryan just has time to dart his tongue out, lick across the head, before Jon presses his hips forward. He pushes into Ryan's mouth, stretching it wide and sliding heavy and hot across Ryan's tongue.
Jon pushes in and pulls back and starts a rhythm, so careful. He has one hand wrapped around the base of his dick, there initially to guide him into Ryan's mouth, probably, but Jon keeps it there even after. Ryan fucking knows why -- so Jon doesn't lose himself and push too deep, choke Ryan.
And okay, honestly, Ryan can kind of appreciate that, because sure he's sucked cock before, but not like this. He's never given anyone this much power before, free reign to fuck his mouth. It's a little thrilling and a lot stupid how much he wishes Jon would.
So when Jon thrusts forward shallowly and Ryan feels the gush of precome across his tongue, he digs his fingers into Jon's ass and pulls him forward. He makes Jon let go of his dick so Ryan can take it as deep as he can. Ryan gags a little, can't pull back, but Jon does it for him.
"Don't be so greedy," Jon pants, even as he drives forward, more than before. Ryan breathes in hard through his nose, working his tongue against the underside of Jon's cock and trying to swallow. Jon's hips are still pushing too even and careful, when Ryan wants hard and deep and everything. It isn't even so much that Ryan wants to give up control; it's that he wants to see Jon lose it. Jon, who always seems so calm and self-possessed, Ryan wants him to break. He wants to be the one to make him break.
Ryan moans around Jon's cock, just to see what it'll do, and Jon's hips jerk a little even as Jon barks out a laugh.
"No fake porn noises," he tells Ryan, taking one hand off the headboard and touching Ryan's cheek. His fingers skate along where Ryan's sucking his cheeks hollow. He presses, and Ryan really does moan this time at the thought of Jon feeling his cock moving inside Ryan's mouth from the outside.
"Yeah," Jon grates out, driving a little deeper, a little harder, a little uneven, and Ryan can almost see the break point coming.
The door opens.
"Holy shit," Brendon says.
"Close the fucking door," Spencer orders. The door slams shut.
Jon's hand flies back up, grabs the headboard, and he finally loses it, really fucking Ryan's mouth. Ryan sucks eagerly and opens his throat as much as he can and takes it when Jon comes down his throat.
Jon's breathing hard, and Ryan can hear Brendon repeating, "Oh shit, oh shit," to himself, and the slow drag of Jon's cock out of his mouth feels like a loss. Ryan would look at Spencer and Brendon, but Jon's got his attention, sliding his hand behind Ryan's neck and lifting Ryan's mouth to his, and shit, they haven't even kissed since Jon came in the room. The kiss is slow and soft, deep and filthy, and Ryan's still so hard.
Ryan pushes his hips up off the mattress, and Jon's moved back down Ryan's body far enough that Ryan's cock finds skin, sliding against Jon's ass. Ryan's hips thrust again, reflexively.
That's when he feels a light touch on his thigh. He makes a startled sound into Jon's mouth, and Jon lets go, twists around enough for Ryan to see Spencer. Just his fingertips are stroking the inside of Ryan's thigh, and he looks at Jon first, eyes sliding hotly over his ass and thighs, still spread over Ryan, up his back, eventually meeting his eyes. Ryan can't see Jon's face, so he doesn't know what Spencer's seeing there, but whatever it is has Spencer smiling when his gaze finally makes it to Ryan.
"Are we going to do this?" Spencer asks, straight to the point. Then, "Is this what you want?" directed at Ryan, because Spencer's always gotten him, even when Ryan's lied to him.
Ryan can't speak, throat too raw from Jon and tight with everything he wants to say. He nods instead.
"Holy shit," Brendon says again. He's still standing in front of the door, back pressed against it like he can hold back anyone who tries to come in. "Are we really going to have an orgy?"
A laugh rumbles in Jon's chest. He slides off of Ryan and settles on his side next to him. "I don't know," he says. "Does four people count as an orgy?"
"A fourgy?" Brendon suggests.
"I don't care what you call it," Ryan says impatiently, "if no one's touching me."
"Oh," Brendon says, staring dazedly. Then he's moving fast, climbing into bed and settling along Ryan's side. He and Jon are facing each other over Ryan's chest, and even as Brendon touches Ryan's chest lightly, Jon reaches one hand out. It drags across Brendon's shoulder, to his neck, then his fingers burrow into Brendon's hair and draw his head down, slowly, toward Ryan. He stops pushing when Brendon's face is inches from Ryan's, his dark eyes darting from Ryan's eyes to his mouth and back again.
"Kiss him," Jon urges quietly, and Brendon does, lush mouth open just barely when his lips meet Ryan's. Brendon's mouth is perfect for kissing, soft and full and moving more patiently, more sensuously than Ryan ever would have given him credit for.
Ryan vaguely feels the bed dip behind Brendon, and the bed isn't that big -- it's only a queen -- but it has to be Spencer, fitting himself against Brendon's back.
Sure enough, a hand tangles in Ryan's hair, guiding his motions, and Ryan groans a little at the thought of Jon and Spencer orchestrating his and Brendon's actions like this. Ryan's pretty sure he'd do anything they asked at this point, or maybe at any point.
Eventually Jon lets Brendon pull back, lets them both pull in air. Only, Brendon doesn't get much before Spencer grasps his chin and makes Brendon crane his neck back so Spencer can get at his mouth. Their kiss this time is in no way innocent. It's lewd and wet and fucking gorgeous.
Spencer finally lets Brendon go, and Ryan manages to tear his gaze from Brendon -- who's gasping and open-mouthed -- to look back at Jon. Jon's breathing open-mouthed, too, tongue pressed against the back of his top teeth, watching Spencer.
Jon lifts his chin a little, says, "Watch them," and Ryan turns back to see Spencer unzipping Brendon's jeans and easing a hand inside, rubbing. Ryan watches Brendon pant and push himself back against Spencer, then forward into his hand, and Ryan rolls onto his side so he can press back against Jon. Jon's cock is soft and a little sticky against Ryan's ass, but he palms Ryan's stomach and pulls him back, anyway, hooking his chin over Ryan's shoulder to watch Brendon and Spencer.
Spencer peels Brendon's jeans and underwear down while Brendon struggles out of his shirt, and then they're all naked but Spencer. Spencer fits himself against Brendon's back again, though, and Ryan isn't about to tell him to stop reaching for Brendon's dick, pumping it slowly, so that he can get undressed instead.
"You were right. They're gorgeous together," Jon whispers against Ryan's ear. Ryan just nods. They are.
Brendon's eyes are closed, one hand clenched in the sheets. The other one is reaching back over Spencer's flexing forearm to clutch at Spencer's hip. Spencer is watching Brendon's profile like he's never seen anything like it and never wants to forget the way it looks.
"Hey," Spencer says to Brendon. His hand abandons Brendon's cock and Brendon's eyes fly open as he makes a wordless sound of protest. But then Spencer's hand moves down, rolls Brendon's balls in his palm before dropping farther back. Ryan can't see, but he knows what Spencer's doing, fingers sliding in the cleft of Brendon's ass and pressing. Brendon's hips roll, and Spencer asks. "Are you still sore, or are you okay?"
Ryan's breath shudders out and he presses back into Jon harder. Jon's hand tightens against Ryan's stomach, pulling him in.
"I'm fine," Brendon breathes. "Yes, yeah." His eyelids are half-closed even as he meets Ryan's eyes. They're a scant few feet apart, but even that distance is too much. Ryan's dick is still hard, still untouched. Fuck.
"Good," Spencer says approvingly, like Brendon's done something to be proud of. "Because I think Ryan wants to fuck you."
Brendon cries out, and something primal twists in Ryan's gut because yes. Yes, he wants that. Spencer smiles at him smugly. He knows.
"I fucked him before," Spencer tells them conversationally, as if his fingers aren't teasing at Brendon's asshole, circling but not pushing in. "Last hotel. He's so tight, Ryan. And he likes it." He looks at Brendon's profile again. "You're going to love it," he says, and Ryan doesn't even know who the last sentence is directed at -- if Spencer's telling Ryan he's going to love fucking Brendon's ass, or if Spencer's telling Brendon he's going to love getting fucked again. It doesn't matter. It's incendiary either way.
Brendon groans, says, "Fuck, Spence. Give me something. Your fingers, please."
Spencer laughs low. "You don't want lube?"
"Shut the fuck up and get the fucking lube, then," Brendon growls.
With no warning, Jon lets go of Ryan and rolls away. Ryan flails a little at the loss of solid warmth along his back, but soon enough Jon's back. He holds up a travel size bottle of lotion for Spencer's approval. "Unless you have something better?" he asks.
"We need to plan our orgies better," Spencer says, scowling. He takes the lotion, anyway, touching Jon's hip briefly. "I had lube in my bag. I'd've brought it if you'd told me I'd need it."
"It wasn't exactly my main concern," Jon says, skirting the edge of the bed and settling at the foot. Ryan frowns at him, wants Jon back beside him, but Jon seems pretty fixated on Brendon and Spencer.
For good reason. Spencer's urging Brendon onto his stomach, nudging his knees apart and sliding a pillow under his stomach so Brendon's ass is lifted in the air. As asses go, it's pretty spectacular, full and firm and high. It's even better when Brendon spreads further for Spencer, burying his face in his arms.
Spencer rests one hand lightly on the swell of Brendon's ass, thumb trailing teasingly down the sweet split in the middle, close but not there. Brendon whines high in his throat and pushes back, and Ryan rises onto his hands and knees to move even closer, to get a better view. He settles back on his side, propped up on one elbow. He's close enough to push his dick against Brendon's hip, let him feel it, and Jon catches Ryan's ankle in one hand, rubbing lightly.
Ryan watches wide-eyed so as not to miss anything when Spencer coats his fingers with lotion and presses one back where Brendon wants it. He teases Brendon with it, barely slipping the tip in, because he's Spencer and he loves making people go his speed. Always has.
"Spence," Brendon moans, muffled into his arms, and Spencer relents, sinking his finger in slowly, slowly, until it's all the way in. Brendon isn't making a sound, and Ryan is sort of amazed by that. He leans down enough to kiss Brendon's shoulder, because Brendon looks so good, spread out and silent. Ryan turns his head and rests his temple where his lips just were, looking down the length of Brendon's back to where Spencer's hand is working between Brendon's legs. Brendon's back heaves as he draws in big, shaky breaths and shudders on every exhale.
Ryan doesn't want to move, but he wants to see. As a compromise, he slides one hand down Brendon's back, trailing his fingers down to where Spencer's opening Brendon up. Ryan touches blindly where Spencer's got two fingers disappearing into Brendon now, and Ryan rubs where Brendon's stretched around them. Brendon's breath catches under Ryan's ear, and he whimpers, starts pushing his hips into the pillow beneath him.
"Stay still, Brendon," Spencer orders, and fuck if Brendon doesn't just stop. Ryan rubs harder around Spencer's fingers, until Spencer says, "Here," and slicks up one of Ryan's fingers with lotion. "Come on," he says.
Ryan presses where Spencer's fingers are holding Brendon open, sliding in slowly until his finger is in alongside Spencer's in the hot, tight press of Brendon's ass.
Ryan breathes damply across Brendon's back, watches the muscles in his arm flex while he and Spencer finger-fuck Brendon open.
"He's so tight, Spencer," Ryan says, and he knows he sounds hushed and amazed, but God. He doesn't know if Brendon's going to be able to take him.
"Hey, I'm right here," Brendon probably tries to snap, but it comes out breathless.
"Fine," Ryan says, moving his head from Brendon's back until his lips are right next to Brendon's ear. "You're so tight, Brendon. You know how good that's going to feel on my cock?" He twists his finger deeper, feels Spencer's curl, and Brendon cries out again, a raw sound.
Then Spencer's free hand is curling around Ryan's wrist, pulling his hand away, and Ryan sits up abruptly to protest just in time to see Spencer sliding in a third finger. Brendon shoves back into it.
"I've got this," Spencer says. "Jon, get Ryan ready. You do have condoms, right?" Ryan wonders how Spencer manages to sound sarcastic with Brendon writhing on his fingers like that.
Jon leans across the space between him and Spencer, says, "Plenty," and presses their mouths together for the first time. Spencer's fingers stop moving and he leans into the kiss, beautiful and needful, and Ryan feels bad for ignoring him, letting Spencer do all the taking care of when it's so obvious he needs attention, too.
Jon pulls back, gets off the bed to get to Ryan's bag -- and when did he put condoms in Ryan's bag? -- and Ryan shifts closer to Spencer.
"Hey," he says. "Do you want to try this again?"
Spencer just nods, strangely shy, and Ryan kisses him, soft and careful, and it's so achingly familiar. Ryan feels like he's still sixteen, and they're pressed together in Spencer's twin bed, kissing awkwardly and touching each other tentatively.
Spencer's actually blushing when their lips part, and Ryan has to surge back forward and kiss him again, trying to remember why they ever would have stopped doing this together.
The bed shifts again, Jon climbing back on behind Ryan. "Stop distracting Spencer," Jon reprimands lightly, wrapping an arm around Ryan's middle. "Brendon's getting unruly."
Ryan doesn't know if he'd call it unruly, but Brendon is rubbing his hips into the pillow again, pushing into Spencer's fingers.
"Shh," Spencer says, rubbing at Brendon's lower back. "Just a little longer." Then, to Jon and Ryan, "I'm going to fuck him myself if you don't get moving."
Jon says, "Just a minute," and draws Ryan back against his chest, between his spread legs. "Come here," he rumbles against Ryan's back, even though Ryan's already there. Ryan goes pliant, trusts Jon to take charge of his body. Jon lifts Ryan's legs one at a time, spreads them until they're draped over Jon's thighs, wide open. Ryan's head drops back to Jon's shoulder, then Jon's ripping open foil and finally touching Ryan's cock.
Jon doesn't need to make sure Ryan's hard, because he has been for a long time, but he still fists Ryan's cock, palm dry and rough on Ryan's skin, before he rolls the condom on him. When Jon's hand comes back, it glides easily over the latex, slicking Ryan up with lotion and getting him ready for Brendon. Ryan thrusts up as much as he can, fucking into Jon's fist until Jon takes it away.
"Save it for Brendon," Jon says. His cock is hard against Ryan's ass now, and Ryan rubs back into it to feel Jon shiver.
"Look," Jon says urgently, and Ryan opens his eyes Spencer's repositioning Brendon, rolling him onto his back, tucking the pillow under him and sinking his fingers back into Brendon's ass. Brendon arches into it, cock hard and tight against his belly. His feet are set flat against the mattress, pushing his hips up.
"You ready?" Spencer asks, as if it isn't obvious. Brendon nods, hair mussed against the sheets.
"Ryan," Spencer says, but Ryan's already moving. He's off Jon's lap, crawling between Brendon's legs and kissing his mouth open. He can feel Spencer's arm pressed between them until Spencer pulls out of Brendon, draws back, and Brendon whines into Ryan's mouth. Ryan presses his hips in tight, cock riding against Brendon's, and fuck, he could get off like this so easily, but he wants inside.
Ryan lifts back onto his knees for his own self-preservation, hooking Brendon's legs over his shoulders and stroking Brendon's hips.
"Ready?" he asks, knowing it's unnecessary but wanting to make sure.
"Yes," Brendon hisses, looking down his body when Ryan reaches down to grip his own cock, ready to line up and push in. "Just... Go slow," Brendon says, then flushes. "I'm not trying to be a girl about it or anything, but your dick is kind of huge."
Ryan laughs, can't remember anytime before all this started that he wanted to laugh during sex.
"I'll try," he says honestly. He guides his cock to rest against Brendon's ass, then nudges his hips forward enough to get inside, just the barest inch.
Ryan can feel his lips drawing back, baring his teeth in a growl, because there's never been anything like this. Never anything like sliding into Brendon's ass, cock breaching the tight resistance and forcing him open in tiny, rocking thrusts.
Brendon should be ugly right now. His face is contorted into a grimace, eyebrows drawn together, eyes clenched tight. His mouth is wet and open while raw, guttural sounds spill out. He's not ugly; not even close. He's the fucking hottest Ryan's ever seen him, flushed and determined. Ryan's cock slides in a little more, until he's fully seated in Brendon's ass, and Ryan can't just wait while Brendon clenches around him. He has to push Brendon's legs back farther even as Brendon groans. Ryan leans most of his weight onto his hands, pressing into the mattress, just so he can get at Brendon's mouth, push his tongue inside and at least taste Brendon's sounds while he waits for him to adjust.
Brendon's thighs shake where Ryan's pushing against him, but his tongue curls against Ryan's, welcoming, and he relaxes by degrees. He goes liquid and pliant, the tight clench around Ryan's cock loosening enough for Ryan to pull out, just a little, and push back forward.
Ryan rocks his hips in short, shallow thrusts at first, gentler than he wants to be, but he doesn't want to hurt Brendon. He waits until Brendon's forehead smoothes out -- his eyes are still clenched and his mouth slack, but the sounds breaking loose are quieter, sweeter. Ryan withdraws a little farther, thrusts in harder, and Brendon gasps, hot and needy, so Ryan keeps it up, driving progressively deeper and harder until his hips are snapping forward, balls slapping against Brendon's ass, and Brendon's moaning at every other thrust.
It's good, so good. Ryan wants to touch Brendon -- his belly, his hips, his cock, the place where he's stretched around Ryan, everything -- but he can't. He can barely keep holding himself up, palms flattened against the mattress for leverage to fuck Brendon's ass hard and deep.
Ryan's making his own noises, knows he's being too loud. But Brendon's so tight and perfect, clenching around him, that the grunts are ripped from his chest to match the rhythm of his hips.
There are other sounds, too, coming from the other side of the bed. Ryan doesn't want to look away from Brendon's face, but the sound Spencer's making. Ryan has to look.
Spencer's shirt is gone now, his pants being dropped off the side of the bed to join it on the floor. Jon's rubbing his palm over the ridge of Spencer's cock through his underwear, and they're both watching Ryan drive into Brendon.
"Fuck," Spencer gasps when their eyes catch. "How is it?"
"You know," Ryan says, voice as uneven as the jerking of his hips. He's close.
"Yeah." Jon strips off Spencer's underwear, and Spencer crawls closer, followed by Jon. Spencer fits his hand between Ryan and Brendon to touch Brendon's cock.
"Ah!" Brendon says, pushing into the touch.
Ryan can feel Jon's hand moving on Spencer's cock still, because Spencer's that close to them. Jon's jerking Spencer while he grinds against Spencer's ass, and Ryan starts to lose it. He tries to hold back, biting his tongue, but Spencer's fist keeps brushing against Ryan's stomach while he's jacking Brendon. The second Ryan feels the hot splash of Brendon coming between them, he slams his cock deep and lets the spasms of Brendon's muscles around him draw out his orgasm.
He collapses on Brendon, breathless and spent, bending Brendon in half. Brendon groans a little, the backs of his thighs flexing against Ryan's shoulders, so Ryan pushes up reluctantly, lets Brendon slide his legs down. Ryan's cock slides out when the angle changes, and Brendon gasps.
Ryan takes off the condom and ties it without looking, because God, Jon's still working Spencer's cock, pushing against his ass, and they're kissing awkwardly over Spencer's shoulder. Ryan drapes himself half on top of Brendon, feeling the wet slide of Brendon's come between them and not caring.
Spencer tears his mouth from Jon's, panting raggedly, and Jon asks, "Is this good? This what you want?"
Spencer cries out in response, and Brendon reaches for him clumsily, palming Spencer's thigh and rubbing. "Come on, baby," he mumbles, stroking a finger behind Spencer's balls, pressing up, and Ryan grins because only Brendon could call Spencer "baby" like that and sound like he means it.
Spencer does not grin. Spencer shakes and comes, Jon's hand drawing it out while Brendon leans forward to kiss him.
Ryan watches Jon move his hand from Spencer's cock to Spencer's hip, come smearing messily across Spencer's skin where Jon takes hold. He's gripping Spencer's hip, holding him still, and from the movement of his hips and the angle of his thrusts, Ryan's almost positive Jon's sliding his dick between the cheeks of Spencer's ass, rutting there and then freezing, fingers digging into Spencer's skin. Spencer moans and Ryan imagines what it must feel like to have Jon's come streaking his ass, thinks he might do a little more than just moan. Ryan might spread for Jon and beg for him to come inside the next time.
It's quiet then, except for the sounds of their breathing evening out, and just when Ryan's starting to think that shit, this is when things get awkward, Brendon says, "Fuck, I'm all dirty. Now I'm going to have to take another shower." He pouts, until it shifts into a mischievous smile. "Who wants to take one with me?"
Jon kisses the back of Spencer's neck before he pulls back, rolls off the bed and says, "I will." He comes around the bed and holds out a hand. Brendon pushes against Ryan's chest. "Get off me," he says even as he's leaning up to peck at Ryan's lips. Ryan lifts up, lets Jon help Brendon get up on shaky legs. Jon follows him into the bathroom and the shower starts running.
Ryan turns back to Spencer, who's yawning, nose scrunched up. It's been so long since he's seen Spencer like this, sated and sleepy, and he can't stop staring.
"How about you?" Ryan asks. "You feel dirty?"
Spencer smirks. "I feel fucking filthy."
Ryan hears Brendon laugh, high and happy, from the bathroom, hears the slow cadence of Jon's voice. He smiles and scoots closer to Spencer, pressing his hand against Spencer's hip where Jon had been gripping it. He kisses Spencer's bicep, then his shoulder. Then his mouth. Spencer kisses back.
When their lips part, Spencer murmurs, "Last night, on the bus. Jon said he wanted to see you come again. When?"
"Last hotel," Ryan says into Spencer's collarbone, licking at it lightly. "You and Brendon were probably fucking when Jon and I were."
"Oh," Spencer says, sliding his fingers into Ryan's hair, sifting through it softly. "Did he?" Spencer touches Ryan's ass, stroking a little.
Ryan pushes into Spencer's touch. It's not arousing, isn't trying to be, but it's warm and pleasant. "No," he says. "We just... hands. What about you and Brendon? How long?" Ryan holds his breath, trying not to make it obvious how fiercely he wants to know.
"That night you spent in the back lounge," Spencer says. "That was the first time we kissed."
Ryan pulls back from Spencer so he can see his eyes. "Really?"
He thinks back to what he saw -- how sweet it was, how innocent, how he'd thought then that it was gentle and familiar. But it was them being tentative, learning each other. No wonder it had felt so much like spying.
"Yeah," Spencer says. "After you and I talked, after you," Spencer stops, and he still looks hurt, doesn't understand why Ryan said no. "After that we, um, we started fooling around. I sucked him off in the back lounge once while you were asleep." Spencer flushes. "The hotel was the only time we've fucked."
Ryan stares at Spencer's cheeks, pink and hot, and says, "Oh." Because Spencer doesn't blush about sex. Ryan wasn't wrong about this, at least: It's not just about sex. Spencer isn't fooling around; it's more than that.
Ryan touches Spencer's chin with careful fingers, bites his own bottom lip and tries not to smile. "Hey, Spence. It's just me. You can call it making love if you want; I won't judge you." Then he ruins it by snickering.
"You little shit," Spencer says, swatting his hand away. He laughs, but he's still blushing.
Ryan waits for the moment when Spencer's laughter trails off but he's still smiling to himself. Then he says, "We could have had this so much sooner, couldn't we?" If not for him. If he hadn't been so caught up inside his own head.
Spencer sobers. "Maybe," he says. "But it wouldn't have been that much sooner, and maybe we wouldn't have Jon."
Like he's heard them talking, Jon's there. Carrying Brendon to bed. Like, bride-over-the-threshold carrying Brendon.
Spencer lifts an eyebrow.
"My ass hurts," Brendon says, like that explains why he can't walk the distance from the shower to the bed. "And don't tell me to stop whining until you've had Ryan's cock up your ass."
"Stop whining," Spencer says.
"Holy shit, really?" Brendon says when Jon deposits him on the bed. Jon looks surprised, too. "So you two weren't kidding. Wow."
Ryan gets out of bed when Brendon starts crawling closer. He stretches expansively, loving the way they watch him. "Time for shower number three," he says. "Spencer?"
Spencer follows him.
Ryan has to touch in the shower. He likes it, soaping up the washcloth and turning Spencer under his hands, cleaning the dried come from Spencer's stomach (Spencer's) and his ass and lower back (Jon's). He likes dipping the cloth down, rubbing down the cleft of Spencer's ass, lower and lower, and having Spencer get hard against his belly.
"Bedtime," Ryan says when Spencer starts pushing against him. Shower sex always sounds good in theory, but Ryan refuses to fall and put an end to the sex because he has to go to the hospital for a concussion.
They're mostly dry, pausing for kisses while they towel off, by the time they make it to the bedroom.
That's where they find Brendon melted into the bed, legs spread wantonly, ass lifted again while Jon licks there and pushes his tongue inside over and over. Brendon is moaning and biting his lips red and swollen.
Ryan and Spencer both stop in their tracks because this isn't something you don't stop to appreciate.
Spencer has never been too sentimental, though.
"I thought your ass hurt," he says.
"Mph," Brendon says, voice hazy and slurred. "Shut th' fuck up. Jon's kissing it better."
Ryan laughs and sees Jon's shoulders shaking, too.
"Okay, well," Ryan says. Four showers in the span of a few hours would be way too many, but Spencer's pulling Ryan down onto the bed and licking his lips, and really, resistance would just be stupid.
* * *
Waking up has never been better.
Ryan doesn't even mind having to take another shower.
* * *
Brendon declares it JWalk Day over breakfast.
"Jon gets whatever he wants today," Brendon says around a mouthful of cheese danish. He plants himself in Jon's lap and asks, "Have anything in mind?" rubbing himself shamelessly against Jon.
"I do," Jon says. "It involves you and me and Spencer and Ryan in the back lounge, possibly all on the couch at the same time."
"I like the way you think," Brendon says approvingly.
* * *
"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind," Brendon says later.
Ryan smiles because Jon's smiling at getting to share this with them all.
"Come on, it's awesome," Jon says. "Ryan thinks so, too."
Ryan nods solemnly when Spencer casts a skeptical look in his direction.
Spencer sighs and eyes the DVD case. "What's this about again?"
Ryan prepares for Jon's usual spiel, but Jon just catches his eye and says, "It's about a lost boy named Ryan who finds people who love him and make him happy."
Ryan would roll his eyes, he really would, except for the part where he can't stop smiling.
"N'awww, that sounds sweet," Brendon says. He doesn't even sound like he's joking.
"Fine, let's get it over with," Spencer says. He sounds less resigned than Ryan would have thought, and he peeks to see Spencer's mouth curling up at the corners.
"I'm telling you, you're gonna love it," Jon says.
Ryan settles back against him, Brendon on his left, head resting on Jon's shoulder, and Spencer on his right, just their hands touching lightly.
Jon pushes play.
end.
P.S. Yes, the title is totally ganked from Phantom Planet's "California." No, I don't have any shame. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to make a mix for this just so I can put that song on it.
Also, for some reason in my mind, at this point in band history Ryan Ross shuffled around in, like, plaid pajama pants and his ridiculous v-neck t-shirts, eating cereal ALL THE TIME. Not onstage? BOOM! Sleep pants and Froot Loops! Hanging out on the bus? BAM! Plaid flannel bottoms and Cocoa Krispies! I DON'T KNOW, PEOPLE.