FIC: There's a Difference (Maybe) -- P!atD, Ryan/Spencer(/Brendon), NC-17 like whoa
Hey, guys! Remember me talking about audreysrev's Kink Meme yesterday? I intended to write a few short snippets for it, but then this kind of got away from me. SO.
Here! Have 2,200~ words of Ryan/Spencer(/Brendon) with voyeurism, exhibitionism, barebacking, rough sex, finger-fucking, masturbation and begging. \o/
Ryan isn't a slut. He isn't a whore for cock.
He's a whore for Spencer. It's an important fucking distinction. An important fucking distinction that Brendon doesn't seem to be getting.
"I'm not going to let you fuck me, Brendon," Ryan snaps, glaring from his spot on the sofa. He's practically sitting in Spencer's goddamn lap, but Brendon just sent him a text message -- from where he's sitting across the room, for God's sake -- saying, "Wanna fuck?"
Ryan doesn't know what the hell is wrong with Brendon. He's pretty sure it's beyond human comprehension.
"The fuck?" Spencer asks.
Brendon has the audacity to roll his eyes. "I wasn't talking about me, dumbfuck," he says. "I just thought you looked like you wanted to be fucked, and Spencer's right there, and I wouldn't mind watching or anything."
"I looked like I wanted to be fucked," Ryan says flatly.
"Fine. You looked like you needed to be fucked. Just like always," Brendon says. He makes a pinched face like he just sucked on a lemon, presumably an imitation of Ryan. Ryan's eyes narrow.
"Yes, that look exactly!" Brendon says.
"Fuck off," Ryan says, enunciating carefully.
Brendon rolls his eyes again. "Fine, whatever. I was just trying to help."
Brendon starts to get up, but Spencer says, "Just a minute," forestalling him.
Then Spencer puts a hand on Ryan's hip, pulling him in closer between Spencer's legs until his ass is snug in the vee of Spencer's thighs. He noses behind Ryan's ear. "Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?"
And just like that, heat curls in Ryan's belly, because Christ, yes, he wants Spencer to fuck him. There's no time when he'll say no to Spencer, apparently not even when Brendon is watching with wide eyes.
Spencer palms Ryan's cock through his pants, rubbing too softly, but enough that Ryan starts hardening, pushing into the touch.
"Yes," Ryan breathes, dropping his head back to Spencer's shoulder. "Yes, fuck me."
"Really?" Spencer asks. He pops open the top button of Ryan's pants, then stops, fingers dipping just below the waistband and resting hot against Ryan's skin. "Even with Brendon watching? You don't mind letting him see you take it? You want him to see how much you love it?"
"I don't care," Ryan whines, pushing his hips back, where he can feel Spencer getting hard against him. "I want it."
A choked sound comes from the floor, closer than Brendon was before. Ryan hears Brendon's zipper going down, and he really doesn't. fucking. care. He wants Spencer's cock, wants to feel the stretch, wants to be pounded into the sofa.
Spencer gives Ryan's cock a hard squeeze, then shoves a hand into his back, pushing him away. "Then get up and take off your clothes."
Ryan scrambles off the sofa, ready to shuck his clothes as quickly as possible and climb back on top of Spencer, but Spencer says, "No," sharply after Ryan tears his fly open.
Ryan freezes, and Spencer cuts his eyes over to Brendon. "You have an audience," Spencer says. "I want you to act like it."
Ryan finally looks at Brendon, annoyed that he's the one who has to slow down when Brendon's the one whose cock is already hard in his own hand. ... Although Brendon seems to have frozen under Ryan's eyes. Brendon licks his lips in what looks like nervousness, and Ryan takes his hands away from his fly.
He arches his back when he pulls his shirt off slowly, knowing his hipbones will jut forward sharply and starkly above his pants. He lets the shirt fall to the floor and looks at Spencer first. Spencer inclines his head toward Brendon in a silent order, so Ryan looks back to him. Brendon is biting his bottom lip and squeezing his cock.
Ryan reaches down, touching his own dick, rubbing through the two layers he has left. The way Brendon's eyes heat is rewarding, almost. Ryan tosses in a moan and then hooks both thumbs under the waistband of his pants and underwear, pushing them down until they pool around his ankles.
He wraps his fingers around his cock and tugs once, twice, even though it's too dry.
"Come here," Spencer orders, and Ryan steps out of the fabric, so fucking glad to be barefoot so he doesn't have to deal with shoes and socks. He doesn't think he could've made taking them off sexy. He doesn't think anyone can.
Spencer's sitting up now, jeans open and knees spread, and Ryan stops between them, wants to drop to his knees, but he waits, standing in front of Spencer. Spencer reaches for him, grasps Ryan's hips in his hands and strokes his thumbs over the sharpness of Ryan's hipbones.
"You're being a good boy," Spencer says. His mouth is level with Ryan's cock, and he leans forward just a little, close enough to breathe out hotly over the head. Ryan's hips jerk forward of their own volition, and Spencer pulls back just quickly enough so Ryan's cock doesn't drag across his cheek and paint it with pre-come.
Spencer digs the tips of his fingers into the curve of Ryan's ass and drags them forward, and Ryan can feel the scores Spencer's fingernails leave. "Aw," Spencer says. "You were being a good boy. I might've even sucked you off before I fucked you. But now I think you need to get on your knees for me."
Spencer's hand lifts to Ryan's shoulder and pushes him down, but it's not really necessary. Ryan was already going down all on his own.
Spencer pushes his jeans down over the curve of his ass, and no sooner is his cock free than Ryan's lowering his head and swallowing it down. He doesn't bother to focus on sucking the head and teasing the slit like he might usually, because he knows he's not sucking Spencer to get him off. He's sucking Spencer to get his cock wet. Ryan's sucking Spencer because his spit is going to be all the lube he gets.
Ryan's mouth feels stretched, but not so stretched that he can't slide in two of his own fingers alongside Spencer's cock. He's drooling heavily around Spencer, spit sliding down Spencer's cock, and it helps, gets his fingers slick and dripping enough that it doesn't hurt much when he reaches back and pushes them into his ass.
Then three things happen at once: Ryan grunts around Spencer's cock, Spencer thrusts in deeper, and Brendon gasps loudly.
Ryan nearly chokes on Spencer's cock, because he'd almost fucking forgotten that Brendon's watching them. Ryan flushes a little, but he doesn't care enough to stop. He pushes his fingers in deeper, trying to get stretched enough for Spencer to push in easier.
Spencer twists a hand in Ryan's hair and pulls him off his cock, and Ryan guesses that'll have to be enough. He pulls his fingers out waits until Spencer says, "Get up here," and Ryan scrambles into Spencer's lap. He rubs his cock against Spencer's, wants to clutch Spencer's shoulders and lean back until he can get the angle right, feel it slip slickly in the cleft of his ass. Spencer grabs his hips, stilling him, and kisses him, finally. Ryan kisses back for a minute before he's reduced to panting wetly against Spencer's mouth.
"Please," he says. "Please." He rubs against Spencer again, shamelessly, desperate to feel Spencer's cock where he wants it.
"God," he hears Brendon say, rough and low. It's nothing like reverence. "He's such a whore, wants it so bad."
Spencer laughs, a gravelly sound, and Ryan bites Spencer's shoulder hard. "Fucking fuck me," he demands, even as Spencer's shoving him off his lap and forcing him onto his hands and knees.
Then Spencer's cock is finally there, nudging Ryan's balls first, until Spencer grabs the base and lines himself up. Spencer pushes the head in with a groan, and Ryan bows his back eagerly, pushing his ass up and back, impaling himself further on Spencer's dick.
"Ahh!" he cries out. The stretch and burn of it feels almost impossible, almost too much. It hurts so good, and he fucking loves it, he does, and he doesn't care if Brendon knows.
Spencer stops then and digs his fingers into Ryan's hips hard so he can't move. Ryan whines in the back of his throat, but Spencer ignores him, says, "Brendon. Come up here."
Ryan's eyes fly open -- he hadn't even realized how hard he'd had them squeezed closed -- when he feels the sofa shifting. Then Brendon's sitting in front of him, crowded into the corner of the sofa, back against the arm, as far away from them as he can get. His cock, though, is not so shy. It's hard and red and straining toward them.
"Um," Brendon says. His fingers creep up his thigh, back toward his cock.
"It's okay," Spencer says almost conversationally. "Go ahead and touch yourself. I just wanted you to be able to see Ryan's face better. He's gorgeous when he's getting fucked."
Ryan can't look Brendon in the eye, not a fucking chance, so instead he watches Brendon's fingers curl back around his cock, watches his thumb sweep across the head, spreading pre-come until the tip is slick and shiny.
Ryan barely has enough time to register that his mouth feels empty, wants to be full again, before Spencer pulls out and shoves back in roughly, and Ryan's eyes fall closed.
Ryan doesn't have any time or inclination to think then. He can only shove his hips back, crying out in pleasure when Spencer starts fucking him deeper. The slap of skin on skin makes Ryan pant hard, but even over those sounds he can still hear it, the wet sound of Brendon's hand on his cock, the little grunts he's letting out.
Then the grunts stop long enough for Brendon to ask, "Will he take it harder?" His voice is breathless and uneven, and Ryan cries out, ass clenching involuntarily around Spencer's cock.
"He'll take whatever I want him to take," Spencer says. His voice is maddeningly even, despite the sharp snap of his hips.
Still, he fucks Ryan harder.
Spencer's fingers are digging into Ryan's hips again, holding Ryan where he wants him so he can pound his ass just fucking right. Sometimes the angle shifts enough that Spencer hits Ryan's prostate, but mostly he doesn't, and Ryan doesn't care. What he's always loved about Spencer fucking him is the feeling of being forced open around Spencer's thick cock, the feel of Spencer's hipbones slamming against his ass, the feeling of being so well used.
When Ryan feels Spencer's rhythm start to falter, he moans desperately and drops down to one elbow, pushing his forehead against Brendon's thigh, because it's right there, and Ryan has to, has to close his fist around his own cock and start jerking it, before Spencer can come, before he can pull out and leave Ryan empty.
Ryan can feel Brendon's thigh muscles shaking against him, can smell the heavy musk of him now, and it just makes Ryan's hand move faster on his dick. Then Ryan feels Brendon's thigh muscles jerking, hears him crying out, feels Brendon's come spatter his shoulder. Ryan freezes.
Spencer doesn't. He slams into Ryan, hips jerking. He comes deep inside Ryan's ass, groaning.
Spencer pulls out almost immediately, and Ryan's too slow, can't stop him, and he nearly sobs at the loss.
"Shhh," Spencer says. He plasters himself half over Ryan's back and reaches down, wrapping his hand around Ryan's. He slides their hands up and down Ryan's cock slowly while his other hand smoothes down Ryan's back. Ryan shivers when Spencer slides his fingers down between Ryan's asscheeks and rubs them across his hole. He doesn't ask first, just pushes three fingers in and starts fucking Ryan with them. Ryan shudders, bucks into their hands, and Spencer drags his tongue across Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan doesn't make the connection right then. He feels the heat of Spencer's mouth, the wetness, but it isn't until Brendon jerks and says, "Fuuuuck," that Ryan realizes. Spencer's licking Brendon's come off of Ryan's skin.
Ryan comes.
Spencer squeezes Ryan's fingers tighter around his cock and forces him to keep stroking himself all the way through it, until his muscles are jerking, ass clenching around Spencer's fingers, but he can't come anymore.
Then Spencer lets Ryan collapse, mouth pressed against Brendon's thigh. He pulls his fingers out of Ryan's ass and slaps it lightly. Ryan moans.
"Uhn, you're such a slut for it," Brendon says, and he doesn't even sound smug; he actually sounds awed.
Ryan doesn't have any energy to do more than turn his head enough to bite Brendon's thigh. "Not for it. For Spencer. There's a difference."
He sounds petulant, and he knows it. He hears Spencer laugh behind him, and then Spencer's sliding his hand up Ryan's back, touching his shoulder lightly, where it's sticky.
"Just for me?" Spencer asks. "You wouldn't suck Brendon if I told you to?"
Ryan remembers how his mouth ached before, wanted to be full when he was watching Brendon touch himself. He's silent for a minute.
"Maybe," he says.
Maybe.
end
BTW, this is totally the filthiest thing I've ever written and definitely not for young eyes. So if you are under the age where it's okay to read it, please go away.
Here! Have 2,200~ words of Ryan/Spencer(/Brendon) with voyeurism, exhibitionism, barebacking, rough sex, finger-fucking, masturbation and begging. \o/
Ryan isn't a slut. He isn't a whore for cock.
He's a whore for Spencer. It's an important fucking distinction. An important fucking distinction that Brendon doesn't seem to be getting.
"I'm not going to let you fuck me, Brendon," Ryan snaps, glaring from his spot on the sofa. He's practically sitting in Spencer's goddamn lap, but Brendon just sent him a text message -- from where he's sitting across the room, for God's sake -- saying, "Wanna fuck?"
Ryan doesn't know what the hell is wrong with Brendon. He's pretty sure it's beyond human comprehension.
"The fuck?" Spencer asks.
Brendon has the audacity to roll his eyes. "I wasn't talking about me, dumbfuck," he says. "I just thought you looked like you wanted to be fucked, and Spencer's right there, and I wouldn't mind watching or anything."
"I looked like I wanted to be fucked," Ryan says flatly.
"Fine. You looked like you needed to be fucked. Just like always," Brendon says. He makes a pinched face like he just sucked on a lemon, presumably an imitation of Ryan. Ryan's eyes narrow.
"Yes, that look exactly!" Brendon says.
"Fuck off," Ryan says, enunciating carefully.
Brendon rolls his eyes again. "Fine, whatever. I was just trying to help."
Brendon starts to get up, but Spencer says, "Just a minute," forestalling him.
Then Spencer puts a hand on Ryan's hip, pulling him in closer between Spencer's legs until his ass is snug in the vee of Spencer's thighs. He noses behind Ryan's ear. "Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?"
And just like that, heat curls in Ryan's belly, because Christ, yes, he wants Spencer to fuck him. There's no time when he'll say no to Spencer, apparently not even when Brendon is watching with wide eyes.
Spencer palms Ryan's cock through his pants, rubbing too softly, but enough that Ryan starts hardening, pushing into the touch.
"Yes," Ryan breathes, dropping his head back to Spencer's shoulder. "Yes, fuck me."
"Really?" Spencer asks. He pops open the top button of Ryan's pants, then stops, fingers dipping just below the waistband and resting hot against Ryan's skin. "Even with Brendon watching? You don't mind letting him see you take it? You want him to see how much you love it?"
"I don't care," Ryan whines, pushing his hips back, where he can feel Spencer getting hard against him. "I want it."
A choked sound comes from the floor, closer than Brendon was before. Ryan hears Brendon's zipper going down, and he really doesn't. fucking. care. He wants Spencer's cock, wants to feel the stretch, wants to be pounded into the sofa.
Spencer gives Ryan's cock a hard squeeze, then shoves a hand into his back, pushing him away. "Then get up and take off your clothes."
Ryan scrambles off the sofa, ready to shuck his clothes as quickly as possible and climb back on top of Spencer, but Spencer says, "No," sharply after Ryan tears his fly open.
Ryan freezes, and Spencer cuts his eyes over to Brendon. "You have an audience," Spencer says. "I want you to act like it."
Ryan finally looks at Brendon, annoyed that he's the one who has to slow down when Brendon's the one whose cock is already hard in his own hand. ... Although Brendon seems to have frozen under Ryan's eyes. Brendon licks his lips in what looks like nervousness, and Ryan takes his hands away from his fly.
He arches his back when he pulls his shirt off slowly, knowing his hipbones will jut forward sharply and starkly above his pants. He lets the shirt fall to the floor and looks at Spencer first. Spencer inclines his head toward Brendon in a silent order, so Ryan looks back to him. Brendon is biting his bottom lip and squeezing his cock.
Ryan reaches down, touching his own dick, rubbing through the two layers he has left. The way Brendon's eyes heat is rewarding, almost. Ryan tosses in a moan and then hooks both thumbs under the waistband of his pants and underwear, pushing them down until they pool around his ankles.
He wraps his fingers around his cock and tugs once, twice, even though it's too dry.
"Come here," Spencer orders, and Ryan steps out of the fabric, so fucking glad to be barefoot so he doesn't have to deal with shoes and socks. He doesn't think he could've made taking them off sexy. He doesn't think anyone can.
Spencer's sitting up now, jeans open and knees spread, and Ryan stops between them, wants to drop to his knees, but he waits, standing in front of Spencer. Spencer reaches for him, grasps Ryan's hips in his hands and strokes his thumbs over the sharpness of Ryan's hipbones.
"You're being a good boy," Spencer says. His mouth is level with Ryan's cock, and he leans forward just a little, close enough to breathe out hotly over the head. Ryan's hips jerk forward of their own volition, and Spencer pulls back just quickly enough so Ryan's cock doesn't drag across his cheek and paint it with pre-come.
Spencer digs the tips of his fingers into the curve of Ryan's ass and drags them forward, and Ryan can feel the scores Spencer's fingernails leave. "Aw," Spencer says. "You were being a good boy. I might've even sucked you off before I fucked you. But now I think you need to get on your knees for me."
Spencer's hand lifts to Ryan's shoulder and pushes him down, but it's not really necessary. Ryan was already going down all on his own.
Spencer pushes his jeans down over the curve of his ass, and no sooner is his cock free than Ryan's lowering his head and swallowing it down. He doesn't bother to focus on sucking the head and teasing the slit like he might usually, because he knows he's not sucking Spencer to get him off. He's sucking Spencer to get his cock wet. Ryan's sucking Spencer because his spit is going to be all the lube he gets.
Ryan's mouth feels stretched, but not so stretched that he can't slide in two of his own fingers alongside Spencer's cock. He's drooling heavily around Spencer, spit sliding down Spencer's cock, and it helps, gets his fingers slick and dripping enough that it doesn't hurt much when he reaches back and pushes them into his ass.
Then three things happen at once: Ryan grunts around Spencer's cock, Spencer thrusts in deeper, and Brendon gasps loudly.
Ryan nearly chokes on Spencer's cock, because he'd almost fucking forgotten that Brendon's watching them. Ryan flushes a little, but he doesn't care enough to stop. He pushes his fingers in deeper, trying to get stretched enough for Spencer to push in easier.
Spencer twists a hand in Ryan's hair and pulls him off his cock, and Ryan guesses that'll have to be enough. He pulls his fingers out waits until Spencer says, "Get up here," and Ryan scrambles into Spencer's lap. He rubs his cock against Spencer's, wants to clutch Spencer's shoulders and lean back until he can get the angle right, feel it slip slickly in the cleft of his ass. Spencer grabs his hips, stilling him, and kisses him, finally. Ryan kisses back for a minute before he's reduced to panting wetly against Spencer's mouth.
"Please," he says. "Please." He rubs against Spencer again, shamelessly, desperate to feel Spencer's cock where he wants it.
"God," he hears Brendon say, rough and low. It's nothing like reverence. "He's such a whore, wants it so bad."
Spencer laughs, a gravelly sound, and Ryan bites Spencer's shoulder hard. "Fucking fuck me," he demands, even as Spencer's shoving him off his lap and forcing him onto his hands and knees.
Then Spencer's cock is finally there, nudging Ryan's balls first, until Spencer grabs the base and lines himself up. Spencer pushes the head in with a groan, and Ryan bows his back eagerly, pushing his ass up and back, impaling himself further on Spencer's dick.
"Ahh!" he cries out. The stretch and burn of it feels almost impossible, almost too much. It hurts so good, and he fucking loves it, he does, and he doesn't care if Brendon knows.
Spencer stops then and digs his fingers into Ryan's hips hard so he can't move. Ryan whines in the back of his throat, but Spencer ignores him, says, "Brendon. Come up here."
Ryan's eyes fly open -- he hadn't even realized how hard he'd had them squeezed closed -- when he feels the sofa shifting. Then Brendon's sitting in front of him, crowded into the corner of the sofa, back against the arm, as far away from them as he can get. His cock, though, is not so shy. It's hard and red and straining toward them.
"Um," Brendon says. His fingers creep up his thigh, back toward his cock.
"It's okay," Spencer says almost conversationally. "Go ahead and touch yourself. I just wanted you to be able to see Ryan's face better. He's gorgeous when he's getting fucked."
Ryan can't look Brendon in the eye, not a fucking chance, so instead he watches Brendon's fingers curl back around his cock, watches his thumb sweep across the head, spreading pre-come until the tip is slick and shiny.
Ryan barely has enough time to register that his mouth feels empty, wants to be full again, before Spencer pulls out and shoves back in roughly, and Ryan's eyes fall closed.
Ryan doesn't have any time or inclination to think then. He can only shove his hips back, crying out in pleasure when Spencer starts fucking him deeper. The slap of skin on skin makes Ryan pant hard, but even over those sounds he can still hear it, the wet sound of Brendon's hand on his cock, the little grunts he's letting out.
Then the grunts stop long enough for Brendon to ask, "Will he take it harder?" His voice is breathless and uneven, and Ryan cries out, ass clenching involuntarily around Spencer's cock.
"He'll take whatever I want him to take," Spencer says. His voice is maddeningly even, despite the sharp snap of his hips.
Still, he fucks Ryan harder.
Spencer's fingers are digging into Ryan's hips again, holding Ryan where he wants him so he can pound his ass just fucking right. Sometimes the angle shifts enough that Spencer hits Ryan's prostate, but mostly he doesn't, and Ryan doesn't care. What he's always loved about Spencer fucking him is the feeling of being forced open around Spencer's thick cock, the feel of Spencer's hipbones slamming against his ass, the feeling of being so well used.
When Ryan feels Spencer's rhythm start to falter, he moans desperately and drops down to one elbow, pushing his forehead against Brendon's thigh, because it's right there, and Ryan has to, has to close his fist around his own cock and start jerking it, before Spencer can come, before he can pull out and leave Ryan empty.
Ryan can feel Brendon's thigh muscles shaking against him, can smell the heavy musk of him now, and it just makes Ryan's hand move faster on his dick. Then Ryan feels Brendon's thigh muscles jerking, hears him crying out, feels Brendon's come spatter his shoulder. Ryan freezes.
Spencer doesn't. He slams into Ryan, hips jerking. He comes deep inside Ryan's ass, groaning.
Spencer pulls out almost immediately, and Ryan's too slow, can't stop him, and he nearly sobs at the loss.
"Shhh," Spencer says. He plasters himself half over Ryan's back and reaches down, wrapping his hand around Ryan's. He slides their hands up and down Ryan's cock slowly while his other hand smoothes down Ryan's back. Ryan shivers when Spencer slides his fingers down between Ryan's asscheeks and rubs them across his hole. He doesn't ask first, just pushes three fingers in and starts fucking Ryan with them. Ryan shudders, bucks into their hands, and Spencer drags his tongue across Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan doesn't make the connection right then. He feels the heat of Spencer's mouth, the wetness, but it isn't until Brendon jerks and says, "Fuuuuck," that Ryan realizes. Spencer's licking Brendon's come off of Ryan's skin.
Ryan comes.
Spencer squeezes Ryan's fingers tighter around his cock and forces him to keep stroking himself all the way through it, until his muscles are jerking, ass clenching around Spencer's fingers, but he can't come anymore.
Then Spencer lets Ryan collapse, mouth pressed against Brendon's thigh. He pulls his fingers out of Ryan's ass and slaps it lightly. Ryan moans.
"Uhn, you're such a slut for it," Brendon says, and he doesn't even sound smug; he actually sounds awed.
Ryan doesn't have any energy to do more than turn his head enough to bite Brendon's thigh. "Not for it. For Spencer. There's a difference."
He sounds petulant, and he knows it. He hears Spencer laugh behind him, and then Spencer's sliding his hand up Ryan's back, touching his shoulder lightly, where it's sticky.
"Just for me?" Spencer asks. "You wouldn't suck Brendon if I told you to?"
Ryan remembers how his mouth ached before, wanted to be full when he was watching Brendon touch himself. He's silent for a minute.
"Maybe," he says.
Maybe.
end
BTW, this is totally the filthiest thing I've ever written and definitely not for young eyes. So if you are under the age where it's okay to read it, please go away.