(no subject)
Asked What The Damage Was
NC-17; Brendon/Ryan (Pete/Ryan)
for jzbell and tragedy.
you're lost in your mind
i believe that anyone can see it
for only one time
we can be together if you want it.
i know what you want
Brendon had sort of gotten the impression that Ryan was kind of a slut. It was sort of like boyband logic, only skewed -- they all had a role they played. Brendon was the innocent one, Spencer the bossy one, and Brent the sort of aloof guy who was kind of just along for the ride. Ryan was the slut.
It wasn’t just his sort of revolving door relationships, even though he had a new girl every week. It was something else. Brendon had seen it with his own eyes, the weekend that Pete Wentz from Fall Out Boy had come down to watch them practice.
Pete seemed like a nice enough guy. Ryan had been so nervous about meeting him that he’d spent half an hour in the bathroom prior to Pete arriving. Brendon had sat in the practice space, picking around absently on his guitar. It was weird, but he wanted Spencer and Brent there. It was kind of weird, that they were just going to play a couple of songs acoustic for Pete, then meet Spencer and Brent for dinner.
Ryan came out of the bathroom just as there was a knock on the door. His face was pale, and he faked a smile as he went over.
Pete was nice. Ryan and Brendon played three songs, and Pete just watched them, then nodded.
“Good,” he said. “You guys are good.”
“Thanks,” Brendon said, smiling brightly. Ryan couldn’t seem to manage more than sitting there wide eyed.
“I want to sign you guys,” Pete continued. Brendon’s eyebrows drooped down into a little bit of a frown. He didn’t like the tone of Pete’s voice.
“But,” Brendon said. Ryan turned his head sharply to look at Brendon.
“But how badly do you really want it?” he asked. “I mean, why not play for me with your whole band?”
“Spencer had to -“ Ryan started.
“Brent’s parents -“ Brendon said at the same time.
Pete held up a hand. “No,” Pete said. “I don’t care where they are. I’ll meet them in a little while. I want you to prove you want it.”
“Um. How?” Ryan finally said. His voice came out a little higher pitched than normal. Scared, Brendon guessed.
“Well, one of you could blow me,” Pete said. The words came out in an offhanded manner, but it was obvious that he was serious. Brendon’s mouth fell open and Ryan’s eyes went wide in shock.
“No way, man,” Brendon said, regaining his voice and shaking his head. “No way, I don’t. I’m not gay. I’m not doing that, no way.”
Pete smirked, then turned toward Ryan. Ryan was still sitting there, his eyes wide. Brendon turned to him, wanting Ryan to say no. It wasn’t worth this. If Pete was like this, then it wasn’t worth it. Not at all.
Ryan took a deep breath. “Will that really get us a deal?” Ryan asked, his voice quiet.
“Yeah,” Pete said, locking eyes with him.
Brendon watched with fascinated horror as Ryan slid off of his seat, went to his knees in front of Pete. “Ryan,” Brendon started to protest, but any other words died on his tongue as Pete reached down to unzip his jeans.
“Ever done this before?” Pete asked, looking down at Ryan. Ryan nodded his head, and that surprised Brendon. He hadn’t expected that. Ryan almost constantly had a girlfriend.
Brendon could see that Ryan’s hands were shaking as he reached out, closing his fingers around Pete’s cock and stroking it slowly, a few times. He looked up at Pete, and Brendon wondered if Ryan had imagined being able to do this. Wondered if Ryan’s fixation on Pete had extended to fantasies like this. He watched Pete’s hand come down, fingertips stroking over Ryan’s cheeks, then tangling up into Ryan’s hair.
Brendon swallowed hard. He wanted to get up and leave. He wanted to quit watching.
He couldn’t.
Ryan lowered his head, taking the head of Pete’s cock into his mouth, sucking lightly. Brendon bit his lip, watching as Ryan sucked on the head, then took more into his mouth, lowering his head down.
Pete was stroking his fingers through Ryan’s hair, pushing Ryan’s too-long hair back off of his forehead. Brendon could see Ryan look up at Pete, pulling back. It was a little awkward, and if Ryan had done this before he hadn’t done it much. “Come on, Ryan. We don’t want to be late to meet the rest of your band.”
Ryan made a noise. It almost sounded like a sob, but he’d lowered his head back down, taking as much of Pete into his mouth as he could. Brendon watched as his head bobbed up and down, his eyes flicking from Ryan to Pete and then back again.
“Fuck yeah,” Pete said, and his hips jerked up off the seat. Ryan choked and jerked back, looking up at Pete with a startled look on his face. Pete looked at him for a moment. “You’ve never done this, have you?”
Ryan didn’t answer, just lowered his head determinedly, reaching one hand up to brace against Pete’s hips, pulling back to the head and wrapping his hand around the base and stroking in rhythm with his bobbing head.
“I want you to swallow,” Pete said, and Ryan froze. Brendon noticed it, just the split second where Ryan froze, and then he continued. He kept going, and Brendon watched as Pete’s face went slack, and he groaned. Ryan gagged, and he was obviously trying to swallow as best he could. He pulled back, the last of Pete’s cum splashing across his lips and chin. He coughed, looking up at Pete as Pete stood up, tucking himself back inside his jeans and zipping them up.
Brendon was staring at them, his eyes wide. Pete just grinned at him.
“I’ll be waiting in the car,” Pete said. “You should fix your hair before you come out, though.”
Brendon and Ryan were both silent as Pete walked out.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Brendon finally whispered.
Ryan coughed again, then reached up and wiped at his face. He looked over at Brendon.
“If you ever,” he said, “tell anyone that I did that, I will fucking kill you.”
“Ryan, you shouldn’t have -“
“I. Will fucking. Kill you, Urie,” Ryan said, carefully enunciating every single word that came out of his mouth. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled toward the bathroom. Brendon noticed that Ryan’s jeans were strained across his erection. Brendon was shocked to realize that he was more than a little turned on himself.
Brendon got up and picked up one of the dirty towels that one of them needed to take home and wash, and wiped up the spot on the floor, throwing the towel back into the pile. He walked back toward the bathroom door, wanting to ask if Ryan was okay. He could hear the retching through the door.
Brendon walked back out to the rehearsal space quickly. He didn’t want Ryan to know that he’d heard. Ryan came back out a few minutes later, his hair perfect again, his face still pale.
“Are you okay?” Brendon asked. He was trying to ignore the fact that he was hard. He was so freaked out by the whole thing, by Ryan being sick over it.
“I’m fine,” Ryan snapped at him, heading toward the door.
“Ryan wait,” Brendon said. “Are you just going to pretend like that didn’t happen?”
“No,” Ryan said. Brendon didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t like the way it sounded.
***
Nothing changes, not really. Ryan breaks up and makes up with his latest girlfriend, and Brendon keeps his mouth shut tight about what he saw in the rehearsal space that night. He worries more and more about what it says about him and his sexuality that he got turned on watching it, that he thought about it later when he jerked off. He didn’t want to.
There were late nights in the apartment they all share while they’re recording when Brendon would get out of bed for a glass of water and find Ryan sitting on the floor in the kitchen, whispering into his phone. He always looked so shocked when Brendon walked in, like he didn’t expect the other boy to even be in the apartment.
“I have to go,” Ryan always said as soon as he saw Brendon, and he’d hang up without another word.
Once, Brendon said “is that Pete? That you talk to late at night.”
Ryan had looked him straight in the eye and said “no,” and it wasn’t until later that Brendon realized that Ryan was lying.
Ryan was very good at lying.
***
Ryan sometimes brought people back to the bus. Not a lot of the time. Just occasionally enough that Brendon noticed it. It wasn’t even that it was strange. It was just that none of the rest of them did it. Spencer had his girlfriend, Brent had his, and when Brent was gone, Jon had Cassie and neither Jon or Spencer had any inclination to cheat.
Brendon just didn’t feel comfortable having random sex. Or even randomly making out with people.
Of course, Ryan was kind of a slut.
But Brendon didn’t really pay any attention until Ryan stopped bringing girls. After a while it stopped being cute girls and started just being androgynous boys with sharp hips and too much eyeliner and too tight pants that Ryan let slide into his bunk until last call when the bus was about to leave.
It made Brendon’s stomach do flips, in the bunk above Ryan, to know the boys were there.
Brendon was still trying to get things figured out. He still thought about that night, when they got signed, when Ryan went down on Pete like it was his pleasure, even though Brendon knew that it hadn’t been all that pleasant for Ryan. But he wasn’t a virgin anymore. He wasn’t so innocent anymore. And he could act and rub up on Ryan like it was nothing, but it still scared him.
“What do you do with them?” Brendon asked one afternoon, when he and Ryan were alone in the lounge, Jon and Spencer gone for coffee and probably shoes.
“With what?” Ryan asked, not even looking up from the book he was reading. Brendon watched him for a moment before he answered.
“The boys,” Brendon said.
“What boys?” said Ryan, raising one eyebrow at Brendon. Brendon would’ve believed Ryan if he hadn’t seen the guys with his own eyes. Brendon hated that Ryan was such a good liar.
“The ones you take into your bunk. I notice, Ryan. I mean, the bunk, honestly,” Brendon said.
“Sometimes I bring them to the lounge when none of the rest of you are here,” Ryan said, looking at Brendon with his expression blank, no emotion in his voice at all.
“But what do you do, Ryan, I don’t get it,” Brendon said.
Ryan looked at Brendon for a long moment, then his lips curled up into a smirk. “I fuck them, Urie, what the hell do you think I do with them?” Ryan asked.
“I was trying to believe that you weren’t a slut,” Brendon said.
“Oh, fuck you. How often do I even have the lounge to myself?” Ryan asked.
“You fuck them in the lounge?” Brendon asked.
“Ever heard me fuck them in my bunk?” Ryan asked, then got up and walked out of the lounge, leaving his book lying on the seat.
***
Brendon didn’t know when Ryan stopped bringing people back to the bus all together. He didn’t even realize it until they all went out one night, and he’d come back to the bus to find Ryan curled up under a blanket, asleep in the lounge with only the light of the menu of the movie he’d been watching playing across his face.
He woke up when Brendon clattered onto the bus, sitting up sleepily.
“What time ‘s it?” he murmured.
“Like, one?” Brendon said, flipping his phone open to check the time. “Yeah, fifteen ‘til.”
“Oh,” Ryan said, and sat up, rubbing his hand over his cheek.
“Alone tonight?” Brendon couldn’t resist asking.
“Huh?” Ryan said.
“Didn’t bring anyone back with you?” Brendon asked.
“Brendon what are you talking about?” Ryan asked, frowning.
“I’m saying, you usually bring someone back when you’re going to be alone in the lounge,” Brendon said. “I mean, well, alone on the bus.”
“I haven’t. Not in a long time,” Ryan said, frowning. “I’m not a whore, Brendon.”
“You give it up for free,” Brendon said before he could stop himself. His eyes went wide and startled. He watched as Ryan just looked at him. Then Ryan stood up, stepping close to Brendon.
“I don’t give it up at all, Urie, so fuck you,” Ryan said. He shoved Brendon hard, slamming Brendon’s back against the counter.
“You bring boys back all the time,” Brendon started.
“No,” Ryan said. “I’ve brought boys back. I’ve fucked boys. But that doesn’t make me a slut or a whore, or whatever your fucked up little brain is thinking it does. How many girls have you taken to hotel rooms and talked into blowing you in bathrooms this month, Brendon?”
“It’s not the same, you -“ Ryan cut him off.
“Why isn’t it the same, Brendon?” Ryan snapped, narrowing his eyes. He liked Ryan when he looked sleepy better than when he was being a bitch like this. “Huh? Why isn’t it the same?”
“I don’t sleep with guys,” Brendon blurted out. Ryan’s eyes went wide and hurt. They stood there in silence for a moment.
“You’re an asshole, Urie, and I want to punch you in your fucking face right now,” Ryan told him.
“Then do it,” Brendon said. He didn’t think that Ryan would do it. Ryan didn’t. Instead Ryan shifted his body and pressed his thigh against Brendon’s cock. It was Brendon’s turn to be shocked. He hadn’t even realized that he was, well, kind of getting turned on with Ryan pressed up against him like this.
“Maybe you should sleep with a guy,” Ryan said, then his mouth twisted in a nasty little smirk.
“What is your deal,” Brendon said. “Just because you like to fuck around with guys doesn’t mean that I want to. Jesus, fuck, Ryan, did Pete break up with you or something?”
Brendon hadn’t actually expected Ryan to hit him.
***
“Dude, did you get beat up on your way back?” Jon asked the next morning when Brendon appeared in the lounge.
“No,” Brendon said shortly. Jon raised an eyebrow.
“Did you fall, then? Because you have a bruise on your -“
“Ryan punched me in my face,” Brendon snapped. Jon looked startled.
“Oh come on, Brendon, why would Ryan punch you in your face?” Jon asked, confused.
“Because I called him a slut. Because he said I should sleep with a guy and then I asked if Pete broke up with him,” Brendon said.
“Oh,” Jon said. “Uh, well, I can see why he punched you, because you called him a slut.”
“He didn’t punch me until after I asked about Pete,” Brendon said.
“Why would you even say that? That’s stupid. He and Pete are just friends,” Jon said, confused.
“Please, you actually believe that?” Brendon said, his voice rising in volume. “We wouldn’t even have a fucking record deal if Ryan hadn’t sucked Pete off the night we played for him. He said “if you really want it, one of you will blow me” and I’m not like that and I wouldn’t do it, but Ryan went for it. He probably hooked up with Pete when he went to LA last summer. I know he hooked up with Pete on New Year’s Eve, and -“
“Fuck you, Brendon.”
Brendon turned around to see Ryan standing there, his Sidekick clenched in his fist. He looked like he was going to start crying, eyes wide and filled with tears.
“Fuck you, you fucking asshole,” Ryan continued. “You’re out of my fucking band.”
“Ryan -“ Jon started, but Ryan had turned and disappeared back into the bunks. “Is all of that true?”
“Would Ryan be that upset if it wasn’t?” Brendon asked.
***
“Ryan. Ryan, listen to me. You can’t kick him out of the band,” Spencer was saying. He and Ryan were sitting on a curb, on the sidewalk behind the venue, upwind from the bus exhaust.
“I can. I did. I am.” Ryan said.
“Ryan, we don’t have a band without him,” Spencer said.
“We had a band before him, we can have a band after him,” Ryan said.
“Ryan, look. You can’t kick Brendon out of the band. Yeah, he was a dick to say what he said.” Ryan opened his mouth to say something, but Spencer shook his head. “I don’t care whether it was the truth or not.”
“It’s true,” Ryan said quietly. “What Brendon said. It’s all true.”
“What?” Spencer asked, looking startled.
“I threw up. He made me swallow and I threw up. I’d never blown anyone before, Spencer,” Ryan said. “I choked and I gagged and I swore that if I ever had to do it again I would be perfect. The whole sex thing. Whatever he wanted, I’d do it, and I’d do it perfectly because I wanted to make it.”
“Ryan, that’s not. You shouldn’t have. We could’ve made it on our own,” Spencer said.
“No,” Ryan said. “No. It wouldn’t be like this, if I hadn’t done what I did. Who else would’ve signed us?”
“Anyone. We would’ve gotten better, anyone would’ve signed us. We’d still have made it to where we are. It just might have taken longer.”
“Pete said that he didn’t want it anymore,” Ryan said suddenly. “That he didn’t want me to come to LA, that he wasn’t going to come to Vegas, anything. He wanted to be faithful to Ashlee and how fucking ridiculous is that, Spencer? How fucking…”
“He really did break up with you,” Spencer said quietly.
“That’s why I punched Brendon,” Ryan said. “That’s why I stopped fooling around with those boys. With anyone. I wanted him to. I wanted him to.” Ryan stopped helplessly and looked at Spencer.
“Why are you so upset?” Spencer asked. “Pete didn’t love you. He just liked that you kind of worshipped him. No, don’t get fucking mad, Ryan, you did.”
“Okay, but Brendon still shouldn’t have said it,” Ryan said.
“And you shouldn’t have punched Brendon in the face,” Spencer said.
“Well, he shouldn’t act like it’s so horrible that I sleep with boys, then,” Ryan said. “I mean, fuck, it’s not like it’s a secret. He calls me a slut like he doesn’t get around as much as I do.”
“Oh my God, I’m back in high school,” Spencer said, hanging his head and covering his face with his hands. He sat there like that for a moment. “Ryan, you and Brendon can’t do this. Neither one of you needs to be calling the other a slut. That’s just. It’s ridiculous. It’s juvenile.”
“Well, Brendon makes me feel juvenile,” Ryan shot back.
“Why am I the adult in this situation?” Spencer asked.
“Shut up, Spencer,” Ryan said. “You’re supposed to be supporting me.”
“It’s just all really stupid, Ryan. Don’t punch Brendon anymore. I’ll have Jon talk to him, get him to agree not to call you a slut anymore. We’ll work it out. Stop saying he’s out of the band.”
“He is out of the band,” Ryan said stubbornly.
“I’m not above strangling you,” Spencer said. “I have really strong arms.”
“I can run faster,” Ryan said. “You’d never catch me.”
“You’d better start running, then,” Spencer said, and lunged for Ryan. Ryan scrambled up off the concrete and sprinted off to the bus.
***
Ryan wasn’t speaking to Brendon. Ryan was barely even speaking to Jon and Spencer. When he was on the bus, he kept himself tucked into his bunk and pretended that everyone didn’t exist. It wasn’t exactly the best way to start out a new tour for a new album.
Brendon finally cornered him one evening. Ryan was even pretty sure that Brendon had bribed Spencer to trade rooms with him. Ryan flat out refused to share a room with Brendon anymore. And yet, Ryan was stepping out of the shower and walking back into the main part of the room with a towel slung around his waist to see Brendon sitting there.
“We need to talk,” Brendon told him. Ryan just looked at him for a moment.
“No,” Ryan said, and walked over to his bag, rummaging through it and pulling out clean clothes. Brendon started to say something, then sighed and covered his eyes as Ryan tossed his towel on the floor and tugged on his sweatpants.
“Okay, you know how I feel about your nudity thing,” Brendon said.
“And your homophobic thing is why I usually room with Spencer,” Ryan snapped, flopping down on his bed. He reached out and took the remote, turning on the TV and flipping through.
“I really wanted to talk to you. About what happened the other day,” Brendon said. “About the fight.”
“I don’t want to talk to you, Brendon,” Ryan said. He settled on the Discovery Channel and put the remote down.
“Okay, but Ryan, we’re like, going to destroy the band if we don’t make up,” Brendon said.
“That’s fine,” Ryan said. He didn’t even look at Brendon.
“Ryan!” Brendon said. “I’m not going to let you being pissed off at me ruin this fucking band. You gave up, like, your fucking dignity to get us where we are and you’re not throwing that away!”
“Man, what do you even care?” Ryan asked.
“I care because this is my life, Ryan. This is what I want to do with my life!” Brendon yelled. “And you’re going to fucking ruin that because you’re pissed off at me?”
“You’re not even sorry, Brendon. You’re not even fucking sorry, and all you can think about is how this might mess up the band. How about worrying about how this is fucking up your friendship?” Ryan snapped.
“Ryan, it’s not -“ Brendon began.
“It is. Because you have issues. About me, about how I’m gay or whatever you think I am, because I like to fuck around with guys. You have issues with that and you’re a fucking dick for saying anything to Jon about what I do with Pete. It’s not your business and it’s not Jon’s business and it’s fucking over anyway.”
When Ryan was done, he was breathing hard. Brendon just looked at him.
“It turned me on. To watch you go down on Pete,” Brendon said quietly after a moment.
Ryan turned the TV off and climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets up over his head. “I’m not talking to you,” Ryan snapped.
Brendon sighed and went to take a shower, wanting to calm down. He didn’t want to argue with Ryan. He wanted to make all of this up. He showered and then headed back into the bedroom. Ryan had the TV on again, back on the Discovery Channel, the blankets pulled up to his chin. Brendon was surprised to see that Ryan didn’t look like the angry, bitter, makeup-wearing, bitchy Ryan that he was used to seeing all the time. Ryan without perfect hair.
“I’m sorry, Ryan,” Brendon said, walking over to his own bed and climbing up.
“I’m not,” Ryan said, and Brendon realized that Ryan was crying. “I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry for anything that I did, Brendon. I’m not sorry I went down on Pete and I’m not sorry that I punched you.”
“Ryan,” Brendon said. Ryan sat up.
“I wanted to sleep with Pete. I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do, okay?” Ryan continued. “And he told me that he didn’t want to do anything with me anymore because now he’s got a girlfriend, but it didn’t stop him before and he’s a dick and what you said fucking hurt okay?”
“Ryan, I said I was sorry,” Brendon said.
“Everything I did… and you just called me a slut,” Ryan said. “Fuck you, Brendon.”
Ryan rolled over onto his side, away from Brendon. Brendon got up and went over, sitting down on the bed beside Ryan.
“I’m sorry. This is me telling you that I’m sorry, Ryan,” Brendon said.
“This is me not accepting your apology, Brendon,” Ryan said.
"What do you want me to do?" Brendon asked. "What do you want me to say, Ryan? Because I'll say it."
"You won't mean it, just like you didn't mean your apology," Ryan said, and he turned back toward Brendon, looking at him, not crying anymore, but with his eyes red and his cheeks blotched.
"Do you want me to tell you I thought about it? Is that what you want me to say?" Brendon asked, his cheeks flushed with anger and tears in his eyes. Why did Ryan have to be so fucking stubborn? "That I remembered you going down on Pete and imagined it was me you were doing it to when I jerked off."
"You're lying," Ryan whispered, but something about the way he said it made Brendon think that he was unsure. That Ryan wanted it to be true.
"You always closed yourself in your bunk with those boys, and I wished it was me," Brendon said. And sure, he'd said stupid things, and he tried to be macho and he brought girls back because he wasn't sure about his sexuality anymore, wasn't sure that he was even really all that straight and he was, worst of all, curious.
"Do you think this is going to make things better? That telling me this is going to fix someth--"
Brendon cut Ryan off by pressing their mouths together. Ryan's lips were soft, felt like a girl's underneath Brendon's. Ryan's mouth didn't move. He didn't kiss back. Brendon pulled back after a moment.
"Are you done?" Ryan asked.
Brendon kissed him again, shifting his body and pushing Ryan onto his back, he wanted to make Ryan yield to him, yield to this. He didn't really expect Ryan to push back, to keep Brendon from pushing him onto his back.
Brendon's fantasies had usually involved him in charge. Brendon realized then that they were playing by Ryan's terms, when Ryan's teeth closed around Brendon's lower lip and tugged, then let go and kissed him hard. Brendon pulled back in shock.
”Ryan, I --" Brendon started.
"You want this, you're doing it my way, Brendon," Ryan snapped. "I'm not going to just lay it down for you because you want me all of a sudden."
Ryan pushed Brendon onto his back. Brendon let Ryan do it.
"What are you going to do?" Brendon asked, breaking away from Ryan's mouth a few tense moments.
"What do you want me to do?" Ryan asked, and Brendon's breath caught in his throat as he looked up at Ryan, Ryan's hair still wet and falling across his forehead, lips parted and wet and his face flushed.
"I don't. I don't know. What do you. What do you normally do?" Brendon asked and Ryan actually cracked a little bit of a smile. "I mean, you don't. I'll leave it up to you."
”You have no idea what you're getting yourself into," Ryan said.
That scared Brendon, a little. Ryan sat up, kneeling over Brendon, his knees on either side of Brendon's hips.
"Do you have condoms?" Ryan asked.
"Do you think I'm diseased?" Brendon asked.
"Do you want me to answer that honestly, or do you want me to lie?" Ryan asked.
"Fuck you," Brendon snapped at him.
"You can't just jump into it like that, Brendon," Ryan said. "If you want to fuck me you have to work up to it. I'm not easy like you think I am."
"Okay, I don't even want this," Brendon said, and went to try and push Ryan off of him. Ryan stopped him with one hand on Brendon's already-hard cock.
"You don't?" Ryan asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Fuck," Brendon groaned.
"Condoms, Brendon," Ryan reminded him with a little bit of a squeeze.
"Front zipper of my backpack," Brendon said. Ryan got up off the bed and walked over to the bag, kneeling down to rummage through. Brendon watched him pull out empty candy wrappers and finally a crushed box with one condom left in it. Ryan almost laughed.
"What?" Brendon asked. Ryan shook his head.
"Nothing," he said, still smiling as he slid his pants down over his hips and left them discarded on the floor. Then he paused, grabbing his own bag and flipping it open. He rummaged around a bit, before pulling out a tube. He read it for a moment, then sighed and tossed it back in.
"What?" Brendon asked again.
"Do you have any lotion?" Ryan asked. "Or better yet, lube?"
"I'm not a chick and I'm not gay," Brendon said.
"I'll put my pants back on then," Ryan said, dropping his bag back on the floor and reaching for his pants.
"No, don't," Brendon said. Ryan sat back up and looked at him.
"I'm not fucking a virgin with no lube," Ryan said. "Or well, with just the lube on the condom."
"So. We're not..."
"Shut up and let me think," Ryan said.
Brendon snapped his mouth shut and lay there watching Ryan, who was merely sitting there. Then he turned toward Brendon.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, and Brendon looked at him for a long moment.
"I guess," Brendon said.
"Take your clothes off and lay down on your stomach," Ryan said. Brendon looked a little shocked, then did as he was told. "Spread your legs," Ryan continued, once Brendon was lying naked on his stomach.
"What are you going to do?" Brendon asked.
"Make this work the way I want it to," Ryan said. "You're trusting me, remember?"
"Okay," Brendon said.
Ryan leaned over, pressing his lips to the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon shivered underneath Ryan's mouth as Ryan worked his way down Brendon's back, calloused fingers stroking over Brendon's skin. Brendon had never been with a girl who'd had calluses.
Ryan worked his way down, and Brendon jumped as Ryan's hands moved over the swell of his ass, and then gasped as Ryan nipped at his skin with a bit of a laugh.
"This might be really weird," Ryan said. "But kind of. Go up on your knees. Bur keep your legs spread."
Brendon was obedient without protest, but part of him wondered what Ryan was about to do. A shiver raced down his spine as Ryan's fingers slid down the cleft of his ass, between his cheeks, brushing across his entrance and kind of damp.
"What are you using?" Brendon asked.
"You'll see," Ryan said, and his hand slid all the way up, between Brendon's legs to wrap around his cock and stroke slowly. Brendon made a tiny noise in the back of his throat.
The next thing Ryan did made him yelp.
"Is that your mouth?" Brendon almost yelled. Ryan didn't reply, just drew his tongue along Brendon's entrance yet again, stroking Brendon's cock slowly. Brendon couldn't help but moan as Ryan's tongue swirled around, pressed against the tight ring and Brendon was terrified that Ryan was really going to push his tongue inside. Brendon had showered, he was clean and generally hygienic and holy God those were Ryan's lips and he was sucking and his nose was bumping against Brendon's ass cheeks as he tipped his head and -
"Oh fuck," Brendon moaned. Ryan hummed against his skin and the vibrations in the sensitive area made him squirm. Ryan continued, pressing his tongue against the skin, licking an swirling and Brendon was pretty sure he might come soon when Ryan finally pulled back.
Brendon twisted to look over his shoulder, and watched as Ryan slid his fingers into his mouth, moved his tongue - his tongue that had just been against Brendon's ass, for fuck's sake - around them.
He pulled them out, nearly dripping with spit. He leaned down again, and suddenly Brendon felt Ryan's tongue again and then uncomfortably wet. Then Ryan's finger brushed across him.
Then Ryan pushed his finger in. Brendon gasped, because it was weird, a little uncomfortable, and it kind of hurt.
Ryan slapped him lightly on the ass. "Fucking relax, Brendon, it's going to fucking hurt if you don't stop thinking about how God's going to smite you or something and relax and enjoy it."
Brendon hadn't even been thinking about that. He relaxed, and the pain lessened quite a lot as Ryan pushed his finger into Brendon as far as it would go. Pushed it in and then wiggled it around, crooked it a bit, and made Brendon gasp and push back against him. He felt Ryan stretching out, leaning forward, kissing Brendon's shoulder as he worked his finger around, then started to push in a second one.
“Ryan, I can’t -“ Brendon said, pushing back against Ryan’s fingers.
“Do you want me to stop?” Ryan asked. “If it hurts too much, tell me to stop.”
And it hurt, it burned and Brendon wondered if there’d be more give if they had actual lube and not just Ryan’s spit (applied with his tongue), but he did not want to stop. He shook his head.
“No, no I. No.” Brendon said. “Don’t stop. I can’t do this.”
“Uh,” Ryan said, and his fingers had stopped moving, still just inside. “Which is it?”
“Don’t stop,” Brendon repeated and he was digging his fingers into the sheets, gripping them tightly.
“Brendon, hey,” Ryan said. “Hey, look at me.” Brendon twisted so that he could see Ryan, and Ryan leaned forward, sliding back to just his fingertips, and he kissed Brendon softly. “You don’t have to do this. We can wait. We can not do this at all.”
Brendon hadn’t expected Ryan to be so sweet about it at all.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Brendon said. Ryan pulled his fingers away, urged Brendon to turn over onto his back and relax.
“You don’t have to,” Ryan said. “I mean, if you’re not into it you’re not into it, and I’m not going to force --“
“Shut up, Ryan,” Brendon said, and kissed him hard. “We just have to do something else, is all. It’s not. We can do whatever you want. Just not. I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Ryan said.
“I can’t,” Brendon said, starting to get angry. “I can’t, it hurts.”
“It hurts the first few times, Brendon. It always hurts a little. That’s part of the pleasure of it,” Ryan told him.
“But you probably had … well, more than spit the first time you did it,” Brendon said.
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “I also wanted it. I mean, really wanted it. I was going to do it no matter how much it hurt.”
“Pete shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that,” Brendon said, looking up at Ryan.
“I know,” Ryan said, and leaned down, kissing Brendon again. “Do you want to try something else, then?”
“I want to get off,” Brendon said. Ryan laughed at him.
“Of course,” he said, and then he was moving, shifting over to straddle Brendon’s hips again
"What are you going to do?" Brendon asked, a little startled. He was new to the whole gay sex thing, and Ryan was making him jump in with both feet.
"Just relax," Ryan said, and ripped the condom open, moving until he could reach Brendon's cock easily, moving so that he could slide the condom on.
"I don't want to hurt you," Brendon said, rolling his hips upward as Ryan's hands slid down his cock.
”You won't," Ryan said, and Brendon wasn't sure that Ryan wasn't lying. Brendon had thought that you had to get ready for this, but Ryan wasn't, and that scared Brendon. But Ryan was moving, bringing his body up, his hand wrapped around Brendon's cock as he guided Brendon in.
Brendon looked up, watching Ryan's face as Brendon's cock slid into him. Ryan's eyes were closed, his lashes dark along his cheek. Brendon moved his hands up to rest on Ryan's hips, sliding along his thighs. Brendon wanted to see any sign of pain on Ryan's face, wanted to watch for that and put a stop to it if he could, but the sensation of Ryan closed so tight around him forced his eyes shut and a noise from his throat. He hadn't expected this. Not at all.
Ryan moaned, his head falling back as he came to rest on the bed. He stayed like that for a moment, then opened his eyes, looking down at Brendon.
"Now what?" Brendon asked, and Ryan smiled, lifting himself up, then settling back with a little bit of a gasp.
This feels right, Brendon thought, and wondered why he hadn't been doing this all along. He lifted his hips up, tentative, testing whether he'd get away with doing it. The motion made Ryan gasp, made him go slack jawed, and Brendon liked that. He liked knowing he'd done that. Brendon liked the reassurance that he was doing a good job.
"Brendon," Ryan gasped out. "Brendon, do that." He rocked his hips and Brendon rolled his own hips up to Ryan's until they're moving together, slow, hot friction and this, the look on Ryan's face, the feeling of Ryan tight around him, was almost more than he could stand, but he wanted this to last. He was pretty sure Ryan would probably laugh at him if he came that fast.
Ryan leaned down, his lips almost close enough to touch Brendon’s, but not quite, and his breath was hot against Brendon’s mouth as he moaned, his eyes closed and Brendon was staring and he couldn’t help it. He thrust up hard and made Ryan gasp, gasp out his name and squeeze tight around him.
Brendon cried out and slammed his hips up, making Ryan yelp, as he came. Ryan looked at him, a little startled.
“Sorry,” Brendon said, and Ryan laughed, lowering his face down and really kissing Brendon, sucking the other boy’s bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at it gently before letting go.
“Don’t be sorry,” Ryan said. Brendon went limp, lying back on the bed. He was at least glad that Ryan wasn’t going to hold his lack of stamina against him.
Ryan pulled away, rolling onto his back, and Brendon watched as Ryan’s hand slid down, stroking his own cock slowly, and Brendon sat up, sliding the condom off and throwing it away before climbing back onto the bed, leaning over and kissing Ryan softly.
“Let me,” he said quietly. “Let me do it.”
Ryan moved his hand away and Brendon replaced it with his own stroking slowly, watching Ryan’s face as Brendon moved his hand over Ryan’s cock. Ryan bit his lip as Brendon touched him, making a tiny noise in the back of his throat. Brendon watched Ryan’s hands flutter, looking for a place to rest as Brendon jerked him off, before settling one in Brendon’s hair and the other tangled in the sheets.
Brendon’s strokes got rougher and faster until Ryan gasped, spilling sticky over Brendon’s hand and onto his own stomach, and he lay there, breathing hard and his eyes closed. Brendon kissed over Ryan’s face, damp with sweat now, and wiped his hand on the sheets.
“We can clean up in the morning,” Brendon murmured against Ryan’s skin, tasting the salt from the sweat and the taste of Ryan’s skin itself. Ryan nodded with a sigh.
Later, Brendon pulled the blankets up around them, and Ryan sighed again in his sleep, his body unconsciously shifting closer to Brendon’s.
***
Ryan doesn’t talk about it the next day, and Brendon can’t get him alone for long enough to say anything about it. The next day stretches into the day after, and then the day after that and Brendon begins to wonder if Ryan is still angry with him, going to keep avoiding him, until one afternoon he bounds back onto the bus to grab a hoodie to keep from being frozen out of the dressing room, and finds a present left for him on his pillow.
It’s another week before they’re in a hotel, and Brendon doesn’t dare try to say anything about it on the bus, or stay behind when Jon and Spencer decide it’s time for a night out. Ryan always turns them down, but Brendon never does and he’s too paranoid about seeming suspicious that he can’t tell them he’s staying behind now without thinking they’ll say something.
He doesn’t want Jon and Spencer to know what happened. He doesn’t want Jon and Spencer to know that he wants it to happen again.
He has no idea why he wants to keep it a secret, but that doesn’t change things.
The night they’re finally in a hotel room, he switched with Spencer, claiming that he just needed to talk to Ryan. Spencer only looked at him with a frown and dragged his bag into the room he was going to share with Jon.
Once they’re inside the room, Ryan sits down on the end of the bed, untying his shoes dropping them on the floor.
“Um. Ryan. Can we talk about. You know, what happened?” Brendon said.
“It’s called sex, Brendon,” Ryan said. “You’re an adult. You can say the word sex.”
He slid his shirt off and dropped it on the floor next to his bag before kneeling down and opening it up, sliding his belt off and winding it carefully before tucking it away. Brendon watched as Ryan tugged off his socks and then started rummaging through his bag.
“Okay, so we had sex and now you won’t talk to me?” Brendon said. Ryan stood up, walking over to the bed, where Brendon was sitting on the edge.
“I didn’t know we needed to talk about it. We had sex,” Ryan said, and Brendon looked up at Ryan, and Ryan was suddenly straddling Brendon’s knees, kneeling on the bed and looking down at Brendon. “There’s not thing to talk about. Except maybe about how we should do it again.”
“Uh. What?”
“I think you should take your pants off, Brendon,” Ryan said, then stood back up. It was then that Brendon realized that Ryan had a small tube in his hand.
Brendon suddenly thought that maybe skintight jeans were not the most prudent idea. He shimmied out of them in record time, tossing his t-shirt to the side as well. He watched as Ryan tossed the tube onto the bed, then slid his own jeans off.
“Lay down. On the bed. On your back,” Ryan said, motioning, and Ryan followed him right up, crawling up to lay beside him. “Let me fuck you this time.”
“Okay,” Brendon breathed, nodding, and Ryan reached out, turning Brendon’s face toward his and kissing him slowly. Then his hand slid over Brendon’s neck, down his chest and stomach to curl around his cock, stroking slowly. “Mmm,” said Brendon, arching his hips up into the touch, and whining a bit when Ryan’s hand moved away.
He opened his eyes in time to see Ryan squeezing lube out onto long fingers, coating them liberally in the stuff before bringing them down, using his palms to push Brendon’s legs apart, bringing his fingers down and pressing them against Brendon, not inside, but only barely. He rubbed, then slid the first finger in, making Brendon gasp.
It still hurt, even with the large amount of the slick lube on Ryan’s fingers, but Ryan was going slowly, steadily working him open with first one finger, then once Brendon was relaxed, a second. He moved his mouth slowly over Brendon’s jaw, lips and tongue and teeth, tasting the sweat dried there from the show, remnants of stage makeup, all Brendon. He worked his fingers in and out, scissoring them once, twice, making Brendon gasp.
“Does it hurt?” Ryan whispered to him.
“A little,” Brendon said, and shifted his knees, letting Ryan slide his fingers in and out. Brendon thought that he should maybe be offended by the fact that Ryan was finger fucking him like he was a girl, but part of it felt so good that he couldn’t complain.
Ryan added a third finger, making Brendon gasp. “No,” he whispered. “It’s too. It’s too much, I -“
“Shh,” said Ryan, pressing one finger of his free hand against Brendon’s lips. “Just relax. It’ll get better.” Brendon hoped that Ryan’s cock was not so much larger than his three slender fingers working in and out of Brendon’s body.
Brendon tried, he honestly did. And Ryan was right, once he was more relaxed, once he was adjusted to Ryan’s fingers there, pushed inside him as far as Ryan could make them go, curling and shifting and moving, it wasn’t so bad. In fact, after he was almost used to the sensation, it felt good. Good enough that he whispered Ryan’s name over and over again.
Until Ryan pulled his fingers away.
“No, I want -“ Brendon started.
Ryan cut him off with a warm press of lips, reaching out for the lube again, this time slicking his hand down his own cock, stroking it harder and harder, kneeling now between Brendon’s legs. “Just make sure you’re relaxed,” Ryan told him.
“I’m fine,” Brendon said, and Ryan’s hand wrapped around his cock, and Brendon whimpered just the slightest bit as Ryan’s cock touched him for the first time, pressed against him, started to push in. It hurt, it made Brendon cry out and shift, try to move away, but Ryan put his hand against Brendon’s hip and held him still, pushed in slowly, steadily, until he could go no farther.
“You’re okay,” Ryan whispered, kissing him softly. “You’re fine. Just relax and take a minute and you’ll be fine.”
“That’s way more than three fingers was,” Brendon said breathlessly, his eyes crushed shut and his eyebrows drawn together.
“Thank you,” said Ryan, and Brendon let out a nearly hysterical little laugh. “It’ll stop hurting.”
Brendon wondered if it had hurt this much the first time Ryan had done this, if Pete had been so nice or if he’d just started pounding into Ryan with complete disregard for how Ryan felt about it. Brendon lay there for a moment, wrapping his arms around Ryan, tracing fingers over Ryan’s bare back.
“Okay,” he finally said after what felt like infinite minutes laying there silently and unmoving. “Okay, I’m okay. Ryan I’m okay.” He repeated it over and over until Ryan kissed him, pulled back slowly, and pushed back in.
Brendon gasped and cried out.
“No I can’t do this. Ryan, I can’t do this, I -“
“Shut up, Brendon,” Ryan said, moving his hips slowly, letting Brendon adjust.
“No, it’s too much -“
Ryan closed his hand over Brendon’s mouth, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before he moved his hips again and Brendon’s eyes fluttered shut, his hips shifted up to meet Ryan’s. Ryan left his hand there, muffling Brendon’s moans, Brendon’s gasps, as he worked his way into a slow rhythm. He waited until Brendon started to meet his thrusts until he moved faster, moved his hand over to wrap around Brendon’s cock and stroke him in time.
Brendon opened his eyes again, looking up at Ryan, his eyes wide and dark and he just watched the other boy’s face, watched Ryan’s hair hanging down, sticking to the sweat, brushing across his cheeks. He watched Ryan’s face, the slight crease that meant he was concentrating, the way he bit his lip as he moved.
Ryan moved his hand away from Brendon’s mouth after few long moments, braced himself with it against the mattress next to Brendon’s head, leaned down and kissed Brendon, snapping his hips forward and making Brendon yelp, muffling it with his own mouth. He moaned himself, the sound lost in Brendon’s mouth as Brendon’s body went tight around him and spilled across Ryan’s hand, and he gasped as he came himself, buried into Brendon.
Brendon lay there in a daze as Ryan shifted, rested his head against Brendon’s shoulder. “You okay?” Ryan whispered once he’d caught his breath. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry if I did.”
“I’m glad you didn’t stop,” was all Brendon said. Ryan laughed softly, then pulled out, shifting to lay beside Brendon.
Ryan’s hand was sticky where it rested against Brendon’s chest, and he fell asleep so quickly, laying there with the tiniest hint of a smile on his face. Brendon stroked his hand over Ryan’s hair as the other boy slept. This was so fucking weird, Brendon thought. His body felt sore and strangely stretched, and he could only imagine what it would feel like in the morning.
He didn’t care. He wanted it again. Maybe he could persuade Ryan to do it again in the morning.
***
“So,” said Spencer, walking into the kitchenette of the bus where Jon was busily shoveling cereal into his mouth and trying to text at the same time. He looked up at Spencer. “Ryan and Brendon are fucking now.”
Jon swallowed. “You owe me 200 bucks,” he informed Spencer.
“What? Fuck you, I don’t owe you shit.” Spencer looked startled, pausing with the refrigerator door open.
“Oh yes,” Jon said. “I seem to remember that we made a bet. And I seem to remember that we shook hands on it. And I seem to remember that there were witnesses, and I said that Ryan and Brendon would start fucking before the end of the tour.”
“You lie,” Spencer said.
“I said to you, Spencer Smith, I will bet you 200 dollars that they will fuck by the end of tour,” Jon continued. “And you said, no way Jon Walker, Ryan has standards, and we shook on it. I will get Zack to refresh your memory if -“
“I hate you,” Spencer said dramatically. “I don’t have that much cash on me.”
“You’d better find it, then, because you owe me,” Jon said.
Spencer stalked back into the bunks in search of his wallet.
***
Title and lyrics from “A Break, A Pause” by As Tall As Lions, who are wonderful.
PS: this is not fucking "dub-con" or "non-con" you dumbasses. everyone consents to everything in it. CONSENTS. no one is forced to do anything. so shut the goddamned hell up.
NC-17; Brendon/Ryan (Pete/Ryan)
for jzbell and tragedy.
you're lost in your mind
i believe that anyone can see it
for only one time
we can be together if you want it.
i know what you want
Brendon had sort of gotten the impression that Ryan was kind of a slut. It was sort of like boyband logic, only skewed -- they all had a role they played. Brendon was the innocent one, Spencer the bossy one, and Brent the sort of aloof guy who was kind of just along for the ride. Ryan was the slut.
It wasn’t just his sort of revolving door relationships, even though he had a new girl every week. It was something else. Brendon had seen it with his own eyes, the weekend that Pete Wentz from Fall Out Boy had come down to watch them practice.
Pete seemed like a nice enough guy. Ryan had been so nervous about meeting him that he’d spent half an hour in the bathroom prior to Pete arriving. Brendon had sat in the practice space, picking around absently on his guitar. It was weird, but he wanted Spencer and Brent there. It was kind of weird, that they were just going to play a couple of songs acoustic for Pete, then meet Spencer and Brent for dinner.
Ryan came out of the bathroom just as there was a knock on the door. His face was pale, and he faked a smile as he went over.
Pete was nice. Ryan and Brendon played three songs, and Pete just watched them, then nodded.
“Good,” he said. “You guys are good.”
“Thanks,” Brendon said, smiling brightly. Ryan couldn’t seem to manage more than sitting there wide eyed.
“I want to sign you guys,” Pete continued. Brendon’s eyebrows drooped down into a little bit of a frown. He didn’t like the tone of Pete’s voice.
“But,” Brendon said. Ryan turned his head sharply to look at Brendon.
“But how badly do you really want it?” he asked. “I mean, why not play for me with your whole band?”
“Spencer had to -“ Ryan started.
“Brent’s parents -“ Brendon said at the same time.
Pete held up a hand. “No,” Pete said. “I don’t care where they are. I’ll meet them in a little while. I want you to prove you want it.”
“Um. How?” Ryan finally said. His voice came out a little higher pitched than normal. Scared, Brendon guessed.
“Well, one of you could blow me,” Pete said. The words came out in an offhanded manner, but it was obvious that he was serious. Brendon’s mouth fell open and Ryan’s eyes went wide in shock.
“No way, man,” Brendon said, regaining his voice and shaking his head. “No way, I don’t. I’m not gay. I’m not doing that, no way.”
Pete smirked, then turned toward Ryan. Ryan was still sitting there, his eyes wide. Brendon turned to him, wanting Ryan to say no. It wasn’t worth this. If Pete was like this, then it wasn’t worth it. Not at all.
Ryan took a deep breath. “Will that really get us a deal?” Ryan asked, his voice quiet.
“Yeah,” Pete said, locking eyes with him.
Brendon watched with fascinated horror as Ryan slid off of his seat, went to his knees in front of Pete. “Ryan,” Brendon started to protest, but any other words died on his tongue as Pete reached down to unzip his jeans.
“Ever done this before?” Pete asked, looking down at Ryan. Ryan nodded his head, and that surprised Brendon. He hadn’t expected that. Ryan almost constantly had a girlfriend.
Brendon could see that Ryan’s hands were shaking as he reached out, closing his fingers around Pete’s cock and stroking it slowly, a few times. He looked up at Pete, and Brendon wondered if Ryan had imagined being able to do this. Wondered if Ryan’s fixation on Pete had extended to fantasies like this. He watched Pete’s hand come down, fingertips stroking over Ryan’s cheeks, then tangling up into Ryan’s hair.
Brendon swallowed hard. He wanted to get up and leave. He wanted to quit watching.
He couldn’t.
Ryan lowered his head, taking the head of Pete’s cock into his mouth, sucking lightly. Brendon bit his lip, watching as Ryan sucked on the head, then took more into his mouth, lowering his head down.
Pete was stroking his fingers through Ryan’s hair, pushing Ryan’s too-long hair back off of his forehead. Brendon could see Ryan look up at Pete, pulling back. It was a little awkward, and if Ryan had done this before he hadn’t done it much. “Come on, Ryan. We don’t want to be late to meet the rest of your band.”
Ryan made a noise. It almost sounded like a sob, but he’d lowered his head back down, taking as much of Pete into his mouth as he could. Brendon watched as his head bobbed up and down, his eyes flicking from Ryan to Pete and then back again.
“Fuck yeah,” Pete said, and his hips jerked up off the seat. Ryan choked and jerked back, looking up at Pete with a startled look on his face. Pete looked at him for a moment. “You’ve never done this, have you?”
Ryan didn’t answer, just lowered his head determinedly, reaching one hand up to brace against Pete’s hips, pulling back to the head and wrapping his hand around the base and stroking in rhythm with his bobbing head.
“I want you to swallow,” Pete said, and Ryan froze. Brendon noticed it, just the split second where Ryan froze, and then he continued. He kept going, and Brendon watched as Pete’s face went slack, and he groaned. Ryan gagged, and he was obviously trying to swallow as best he could. He pulled back, the last of Pete’s cum splashing across his lips and chin. He coughed, looking up at Pete as Pete stood up, tucking himself back inside his jeans and zipping them up.
Brendon was staring at them, his eyes wide. Pete just grinned at him.
“I’ll be waiting in the car,” Pete said. “You should fix your hair before you come out, though.”
Brendon and Ryan were both silent as Pete walked out.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Brendon finally whispered.
Ryan coughed again, then reached up and wiped at his face. He looked over at Brendon.
“If you ever,” he said, “tell anyone that I did that, I will fucking kill you.”
“Ryan, you shouldn’t have -“
“I. Will fucking. Kill you, Urie,” Ryan said, carefully enunciating every single word that came out of his mouth. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled toward the bathroom. Brendon noticed that Ryan’s jeans were strained across his erection. Brendon was shocked to realize that he was more than a little turned on himself.
Brendon got up and picked up one of the dirty towels that one of them needed to take home and wash, and wiped up the spot on the floor, throwing the towel back into the pile. He walked back toward the bathroom door, wanting to ask if Ryan was okay. He could hear the retching through the door.
Brendon walked back out to the rehearsal space quickly. He didn’t want Ryan to know that he’d heard. Ryan came back out a few minutes later, his hair perfect again, his face still pale.
“Are you okay?” Brendon asked. He was trying to ignore the fact that he was hard. He was so freaked out by the whole thing, by Ryan being sick over it.
“I’m fine,” Ryan snapped at him, heading toward the door.
“Ryan wait,” Brendon said. “Are you just going to pretend like that didn’t happen?”
“No,” Ryan said. Brendon didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t like the way it sounded.
***
Nothing changes, not really. Ryan breaks up and makes up with his latest girlfriend, and Brendon keeps his mouth shut tight about what he saw in the rehearsal space that night. He worries more and more about what it says about him and his sexuality that he got turned on watching it, that he thought about it later when he jerked off. He didn’t want to.
There were late nights in the apartment they all share while they’re recording when Brendon would get out of bed for a glass of water and find Ryan sitting on the floor in the kitchen, whispering into his phone. He always looked so shocked when Brendon walked in, like he didn’t expect the other boy to even be in the apartment.
“I have to go,” Ryan always said as soon as he saw Brendon, and he’d hang up without another word.
Once, Brendon said “is that Pete? That you talk to late at night.”
Ryan had looked him straight in the eye and said “no,” and it wasn’t until later that Brendon realized that Ryan was lying.
Ryan was very good at lying.
***
Ryan sometimes brought people back to the bus. Not a lot of the time. Just occasionally enough that Brendon noticed it. It wasn’t even that it was strange. It was just that none of the rest of them did it. Spencer had his girlfriend, Brent had his, and when Brent was gone, Jon had Cassie and neither Jon or Spencer had any inclination to cheat.
Brendon just didn’t feel comfortable having random sex. Or even randomly making out with people.
Of course, Ryan was kind of a slut.
But Brendon didn’t really pay any attention until Ryan stopped bringing girls. After a while it stopped being cute girls and started just being androgynous boys with sharp hips and too much eyeliner and too tight pants that Ryan let slide into his bunk until last call when the bus was about to leave.
It made Brendon’s stomach do flips, in the bunk above Ryan, to know the boys were there.
Brendon was still trying to get things figured out. He still thought about that night, when they got signed, when Ryan went down on Pete like it was his pleasure, even though Brendon knew that it hadn’t been all that pleasant for Ryan. But he wasn’t a virgin anymore. He wasn’t so innocent anymore. And he could act and rub up on Ryan like it was nothing, but it still scared him.
“What do you do with them?” Brendon asked one afternoon, when he and Ryan were alone in the lounge, Jon and Spencer gone for coffee and probably shoes.
“With what?” Ryan asked, not even looking up from the book he was reading. Brendon watched him for a moment before he answered.
“The boys,” Brendon said.
“What boys?” said Ryan, raising one eyebrow at Brendon. Brendon would’ve believed Ryan if he hadn’t seen the guys with his own eyes. Brendon hated that Ryan was such a good liar.
“The ones you take into your bunk. I notice, Ryan. I mean, the bunk, honestly,” Brendon said.
“Sometimes I bring them to the lounge when none of the rest of you are here,” Ryan said, looking at Brendon with his expression blank, no emotion in his voice at all.
“But what do you do, Ryan, I don’t get it,” Brendon said.
Ryan looked at Brendon for a long moment, then his lips curled up into a smirk. “I fuck them, Urie, what the hell do you think I do with them?” Ryan asked.
“I was trying to believe that you weren’t a slut,” Brendon said.
“Oh, fuck you. How often do I even have the lounge to myself?” Ryan asked.
“You fuck them in the lounge?” Brendon asked.
“Ever heard me fuck them in my bunk?” Ryan asked, then got up and walked out of the lounge, leaving his book lying on the seat.
***
Brendon didn’t know when Ryan stopped bringing people back to the bus all together. He didn’t even realize it until they all went out one night, and he’d come back to the bus to find Ryan curled up under a blanket, asleep in the lounge with only the light of the menu of the movie he’d been watching playing across his face.
He woke up when Brendon clattered onto the bus, sitting up sleepily.
“What time ‘s it?” he murmured.
“Like, one?” Brendon said, flipping his phone open to check the time. “Yeah, fifteen ‘til.”
“Oh,” Ryan said, and sat up, rubbing his hand over his cheek.
“Alone tonight?” Brendon couldn’t resist asking.
“Huh?” Ryan said.
“Didn’t bring anyone back with you?” Brendon asked.
“Brendon what are you talking about?” Ryan asked, frowning.
“I’m saying, you usually bring someone back when you’re going to be alone in the lounge,” Brendon said. “I mean, well, alone on the bus.”
“I haven’t. Not in a long time,” Ryan said, frowning. “I’m not a whore, Brendon.”
“You give it up for free,” Brendon said before he could stop himself. His eyes went wide and startled. He watched as Ryan just looked at him. Then Ryan stood up, stepping close to Brendon.
“I don’t give it up at all, Urie, so fuck you,” Ryan said. He shoved Brendon hard, slamming Brendon’s back against the counter.
“You bring boys back all the time,” Brendon started.
“No,” Ryan said. “I’ve brought boys back. I’ve fucked boys. But that doesn’t make me a slut or a whore, or whatever your fucked up little brain is thinking it does. How many girls have you taken to hotel rooms and talked into blowing you in bathrooms this month, Brendon?”
“It’s not the same, you -“ Ryan cut him off.
“Why isn’t it the same, Brendon?” Ryan snapped, narrowing his eyes. He liked Ryan when he looked sleepy better than when he was being a bitch like this. “Huh? Why isn’t it the same?”
“I don’t sleep with guys,” Brendon blurted out. Ryan’s eyes went wide and hurt. They stood there in silence for a moment.
“You’re an asshole, Urie, and I want to punch you in your fucking face right now,” Ryan told him.
“Then do it,” Brendon said. He didn’t think that Ryan would do it. Ryan didn’t. Instead Ryan shifted his body and pressed his thigh against Brendon’s cock. It was Brendon’s turn to be shocked. He hadn’t even realized that he was, well, kind of getting turned on with Ryan pressed up against him like this.
“Maybe you should sleep with a guy,” Ryan said, then his mouth twisted in a nasty little smirk.
“What is your deal,” Brendon said. “Just because you like to fuck around with guys doesn’t mean that I want to. Jesus, fuck, Ryan, did Pete break up with you or something?”
Brendon hadn’t actually expected Ryan to hit him.
***
“Dude, did you get beat up on your way back?” Jon asked the next morning when Brendon appeared in the lounge.
“No,” Brendon said shortly. Jon raised an eyebrow.
“Did you fall, then? Because you have a bruise on your -“
“Ryan punched me in my face,” Brendon snapped. Jon looked startled.
“Oh come on, Brendon, why would Ryan punch you in your face?” Jon asked, confused.
“Because I called him a slut. Because he said I should sleep with a guy and then I asked if Pete broke up with him,” Brendon said.
“Oh,” Jon said. “Uh, well, I can see why he punched you, because you called him a slut.”
“He didn’t punch me until after I asked about Pete,” Brendon said.
“Why would you even say that? That’s stupid. He and Pete are just friends,” Jon said, confused.
“Please, you actually believe that?” Brendon said, his voice rising in volume. “We wouldn’t even have a fucking record deal if Ryan hadn’t sucked Pete off the night we played for him. He said “if you really want it, one of you will blow me” and I’m not like that and I wouldn’t do it, but Ryan went for it. He probably hooked up with Pete when he went to LA last summer. I know he hooked up with Pete on New Year’s Eve, and -“
“Fuck you, Brendon.”
Brendon turned around to see Ryan standing there, his Sidekick clenched in his fist. He looked like he was going to start crying, eyes wide and filled with tears.
“Fuck you, you fucking asshole,” Ryan continued. “You’re out of my fucking band.”
“Ryan -“ Jon started, but Ryan had turned and disappeared back into the bunks. “Is all of that true?”
“Would Ryan be that upset if it wasn’t?” Brendon asked.
***
“Ryan. Ryan, listen to me. You can’t kick him out of the band,” Spencer was saying. He and Ryan were sitting on a curb, on the sidewalk behind the venue, upwind from the bus exhaust.
“I can. I did. I am.” Ryan said.
“Ryan, we don’t have a band without him,” Spencer said.
“We had a band before him, we can have a band after him,” Ryan said.
“Ryan, look. You can’t kick Brendon out of the band. Yeah, he was a dick to say what he said.” Ryan opened his mouth to say something, but Spencer shook his head. “I don’t care whether it was the truth or not.”
“It’s true,” Ryan said quietly. “What Brendon said. It’s all true.”
“What?” Spencer asked, looking startled.
“I threw up. He made me swallow and I threw up. I’d never blown anyone before, Spencer,” Ryan said. “I choked and I gagged and I swore that if I ever had to do it again I would be perfect. The whole sex thing. Whatever he wanted, I’d do it, and I’d do it perfectly because I wanted to make it.”
“Ryan, that’s not. You shouldn’t have. We could’ve made it on our own,” Spencer said.
“No,” Ryan said. “No. It wouldn’t be like this, if I hadn’t done what I did. Who else would’ve signed us?”
“Anyone. We would’ve gotten better, anyone would’ve signed us. We’d still have made it to where we are. It just might have taken longer.”
“Pete said that he didn’t want it anymore,” Ryan said suddenly. “That he didn’t want me to come to LA, that he wasn’t going to come to Vegas, anything. He wanted to be faithful to Ashlee and how fucking ridiculous is that, Spencer? How fucking…”
“He really did break up with you,” Spencer said quietly.
“That’s why I punched Brendon,” Ryan said. “That’s why I stopped fooling around with those boys. With anyone. I wanted him to. I wanted him to.” Ryan stopped helplessly and looked at Spencer.
“Why are you so upset?” Spencer asked. “Pete didn’t love you. He just liked that you kind of worshipped him. No, don’t get fucking mad, Ryan, you did.”
“Okay, but Brendon still shouldn’t have said it,” Ryan said.
“And you shouldn’t have punched Brendon in the face,” Spencer said.
“Well, he shouldn’t act like it’s so horrible that I sleep with boys, then,” Ryan said. “I mean, fuck, it’s not like it’s a secret. He calls me a slut like he doesn’t get around as much as I do.”
“Oh my God, I’m back in high school,” Spencer said, hanging his head and covering his face with his hands. He sat there like that for a moment. “Ryan, you and Brendon can’t do this. Neither one of you needs to be calling the other a slut. That’s just. It’s ridiculous. It’s juvenile.”
“Well, Brendon makes me feel juvenile,” Ryan shot back.
“Why am I the adult in this situation?” Spencer asked.
“Shut up, Spencer,” Ryan said. “You’re supposed to be supporting me.”
“It’s just all really stupid, Ryan. Don’t punch Brendon anymore. I’ll have Jon talk to him, get him to agree not to call you a slut anymore. We’ll work it out. Stop saying he’s out of the band.”
“He is out of the band,” Ryan said stubbornly.
“I’m not above strangling you,” Spencer said. “I have really strong arms.”
“I can run faster,” Ryan said. “You’d never catch me.”
“You’d better start running, then,” Spencer said, and lunged for Ryan. Ryan scrambled up off the concrete and sprinted off to the bus.
***
Ryan wasn’t speaking to Brendon. Ryan was barely even speaking to Jon and Spencer. When he was on the bus, he kept himself tucked into his bunk and pretended that everyone didn’t exist. It wasn’t exactly the best way to start out a new tour for a new album.
Brendon finally cornered him one evening. Ryan was even pretty sure that Brendon had bribed Spencer to trade rooms with him. Ryan flat out refused to share a room with Brendon anymore. And yet, Ryan was stepping out of the shower and walking back into the main part of the room with a towel slung around his waist to see Brendon sitting there.
“We need to talk,” Brendon told him. Ryan just looked at him for a moment.
“No,” Ryan said, and walked over to his bag, rummaging through it and pulling out clean clothes. Brendon started to say something, then sighed and covered his eyes as Ryan tossed his towel on the floor and tugged on his sweatpants.
“Okay, you know how I feel about your nudity thing,” Brendon said.
“And your homophobic thing is why I usually room with Spencer,” Ryan snapped, flopping down on his bed. He reached out and took the remote, turning on the TV and flipping through.
“I really wanted to talk to you. About what happened the other day,” Brendon said. “About the fight.”
“I don’t want to talk to you, Brendon,” Ryan said. He settled on the Discovery Channel and put the remote down.
“Okay, but Ryan, we’re like, going to destroy the band if we don’t make up,” Brendon said.
“That’s fine,” Ryan said. He didn’t even look at Brendon.
“Ryan!” Brendon said. “I’m not going to let you being pissed off at me ruin this fucking band. You gave up, like, your fucking dignity to get us where we are and you’re not throwing that away!”
“Man, what do you even care?” Ryan asked.
“I care because this is my life, Ryan. This is what I want to do with my life!” Brendon yelled. “And you’re going to fucking ruin that because you’re pissed off at me?”
“You’re not even sorry, Brendon. You’re not even fucking sorry, and all you can think about is how this might mess up the band. How about worrying about how this is fucking up your friendship?” Ryan snapped.
“Ryan, it’s not -“ Brendon began.
“It is. Because you have issues. About me, about how I’m gay or whatever you think I am, because I like to fuck around with guys. You have issues with that and you’re a fucking dick for saying anything to Jon about what I do with Pete. It’s not your business and it’s not Jon’s business and it’s fucking over anyway.”
When Ryan was done, he was breathing hard. Brendon just looked at him.
“It turned me on. To watch you go down on Pete,” Brendon said quietly after a moment.
Ryan turned the TV off and climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets up over his head. “I’m not talking to you,” Ryan snapped.
Brendon sighed and went to take a shower, wanting to calm down. He didn’t want to argue with Ryan. He wanted to make all of this up. He showered and then headed back into the bedroom. Ryan had the TV on again, back on the Discovery Channel, the blankets pulled up to his chin. Brendon was surprised to see that Ryan didn’t look like the angry, bitter, makeup-wearing, bitchy Ryan that he was used to seeing all the time. Ryan without perfect hair.
“I’m sorry, Ryan,” Brendon said, walking over to his own bed and climbing up.
“I’m not,” Ryan said, and Brendon realized that Ryan was crying. “I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry for anything that I did, Brendon. I’m not sorry I went down on Pete and I’m not sorry that I punched you.”
“Ryan,” Brendon said. Ryan sat up.
“I wanted to sleep with Pete. I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do, okay?” Ryan continued. “And he told me that he didn’t want to do anything with me anymore because now he’s got a girlfriend, but it didn’t stop him before and he’s a dick and what you said fucking hurt okay?”
“Ryan, I said I was sorry,” Brendon said.
“Everything I did… and you just called me a slut,” Ryan said. “Fuck you, Brendon.”
Ryan rolled over onto his side, away from Brendon. Brendon got up and went over, sitting down on the bed beside Ryan.
“I’m sorry. This is me telling you that I’m sorry, Ryan,” Brendon said.
“This is me not accepting your apology, Brendon,” Ryan said.
"What do you want me to do?" Brendon asked. "What do you want me to say, Ryan? Because I'll say it."
"You won't mean it, just like you didn't mean your apology," Ryan said, and he turned back toward Brendon, looking at him, not crying anymore, but with his eyes red and his cheeks blotched.
"Do you want me to tell you I thought about it? Is that what you want me to say?" Brendon asked, his cheeks flushed with anger and tears in his eyes. Why did Ryan have to be so fucking stubborn? "That I remembered you going down on Pete and imagined it was me you were doing it to when I jerked off."
"You're lying," Ryan whispered, but something about the way he said it made Brendon think that he was unsure. That Ryan wanted it to be true.
"You always closed yourself in your bunk with those boys, and I wished it was me," Brendon said. And sure, he'd said stupid things, and he tried to be macho and he brought girls back because he wasn't sure about his sexuality anymore, wasn't sure that he was even really all that straight and he was, worst of all, curious.
"Do you think this is going to make things better? That telling me this is going to fix someth--"
Brendon cut Ryan off by pressing their mouths together. Ryan's lips were soft, felt like a girl's underneath Brendon's. Ryan's mouth didn't move. He didn't kiss back. Brendon pulled back after a moment.
"Are you done?" Ryan asked.
Brendon kissed him again, shifting his body and pushing Ryan onto his back, he wanted to make Ryan yield to him, yield to this. He didn't really expect Ryan to push back, to keep Brendon from pushing him onto his back.
Brendon's fantasies had usually involved him in charge. Brendon realized then that they were playing by Ryan's terms, when Ryan's teeth closed around Brendon's lower lip and tugged, then let go and kissed him hard. Brendon pulled back in shock.
”Ryan, I --" Brendon started.
"You want this, you're doing it my way, Brendon," Ryan snapped. "I'm not going to just lay it down for you because you want me all of a sudden."
Ryan pushed Brendon onto his back. Brendon let Ryan do it.
"What are you going to do?" Brendon asked, breaking away from Ryan's mouth a few tense moments.
"What do you want me to do?" Ryan asked, and Brendon's breath caught in his throat as he looked up at Ryan, Ryan's hair still wet and falling across his forehead, lips parted and wet and his face flushed.
"I don't. I don't know. What do you. What do you normally do?" Brendon asked and Ryan actually cracked a little bit of a smile. "I mean, you don't. I'll leave it up to you."
”You have no idea what you're getting yourself into," Ryan said.
That scared Brendon, a little. Ryan sat up, kneeling over Brendon, his knees on either side of Brendon's hips.
"Do you have condoms?" Ryan asked.
"Do you think I'm diseased?" Brendon asked.
"Do you want me to answer that honestly, or do you want me to lie?" Ryan asked.
"Fuck you," Brendon snapped at him.
"You can't just jump into it like that, Brendon," Ryan said. "If you want to fuck me you have to work up to it. I'm not easy like you think I am."
"Okay, I don't even want this," Brendon said, and went to try and push Ryan off of him. Ryan stopped him with one hand on Brendon's already-hard cock.
"You don't?" Ryan asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Fuck," Brendon groaned.
"Condoms, Brendon," Ryan reminded him with a little bit of a squeeze.
"Front zipper of my backpack," Brendon said. Ryan got up off the bed and walked over to the bag, kneeling down to rummage through. Brendon watched him pull out empty candy wrappers and finally a crushed box with one condom left in it. Ryan almost laughed.
"What?" Brendon asked. Ryan shook his head.
"Nothing," he said, still smiling as he slid his pants down over his hips and left them discarded on the floor. Then he paused, grabbing his own bag and flipping it open. He rummaged around a bit, before pulling out a tube. He read it for a moment, then sighed and tossed it back in.
"What?" Brendon asked again.
"Do you have any lotion?" Ryan asked. "Or better yet, lube?"
"I'm not a chick and I'm not gay," Brendon said.
"I'll put my pants back on then," Ryan said, dropping his bag back on the floor and reaching for his pants.
"No, don't," Brendon said. Ryan sat back up and looked at him.
"I'm not fucking a virgin with no lube," Ryan said. "Or well, with just the lube on the condom."
"So. We're not..."
"Shut up and let me think," Ryan said.
Brendon snapped his mouth shut and lay there watching Ryan, who was merely sitting there. Then he turned toward Brendon.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, and Brendon looked at him for a long moment.
"I guess," Brendon said.
"Take your clothes off and lay down on your stomach," Ryan said. Brendon looked a little shocked, then did as he was told. "Spread your legs," Ryan continued, once Brendon was lying naked on his stomach.
"What are you going to do?" Brendon asked.
"Make this work the way I want it to," Ryan said. "You're trusting me, remember?"
"Okay," Brendon said.
Ryan leaned over, pressing his lips to the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon shivered underneath Ryan's mouth as Ryan worked his way down Brendon's back, calloused fingers stroking over Brendon's skin. Brendon had never been with a girl who'd had calluses.
Ryan worked his way down, and Brendon jumped as Ryan's hands moved over the swell of his ass, and then gasped as Ryan nipped at his skin with a bit of a laugh.
"This might be really weird," Ryan said. "But kind of. Go up on your knees. Bur keep your legs spread."
Brendon was obedient without protest, but part of him wondered what Ryan was about to do. A shiver raced down his spine as Ryan's fingers slid down the cleft of his ass, between his cheeks, brushing across his entrance and kind of damp.
"What are you using?" Brendon asked.
"You'll see," Ryan said, and his hand slid all the way up, between Brendon's legs to wrap around his cock and stroke slowly. Brendon made a tiny noise in the back of his throat.
The next thing Ryan did made him yelp.
"Is that your mouth?" Brendon almost yelled. Ryan didn't reply, just drew his tongue along Brendon's entrance yet again, stroking Brendon's cock slowly. Brendon couldn't help but moan as Ryan's tongue swirled around, pressed against the tight ring and Brendon was terrified that Ryan was really going to push his tongue inside. Brendon had showered, he was clean and generally hygienic and holy God those were Ryan's lips and he was sucking and his nose was bumping against Brendon's ass cheeks as he tipped his head and -
"Oh fuck," Brendon moaned. Ryan hummed against his skin and the vibrations in the sensitive area made him squirm. Ryan continued, pressing his tongue against the skin, licking an swirling and Brendon was pretty sure he might come soon when Ryan finally pulled back.
Brendon twisted to look over his shoulder, and watched as Ryan slid his fingers into his mouth, moved his tongue - his tongue that had just been against Brendon's ass, for fuck's sake - around them.
He pulled them out, nearly dripping with spit. He leaned down again, and suddenly Brendon felt Ryan's tongue again and then uncomfortably wet. Then Ryan's finger brushed across him.
Then Ryan pushed his finger in. Brendon gasped, because it was weird, a little uncomfortable, and it kind of hurt.
Ryan slapped him lightly on the ass. "Fucking relax, Brendon, it's going to fucking hurt if you don't stop thinking about how God's going to smite you or something and relax and enjoy it."
Brendon hadn't even been thinking about that. He relaxed, and the pain lessened quite a lot as Ryan pushed his finger into Brendon as far as it would go. Pushed it in and then wiggled it around, crooked it a bit, and made Brendon gasp and push back against him. He felt Ryan stretching out, leaning forward, kissing Brendon's shoulder as he worked his finger around, then started to push in a second one.
“Ryan, I can’t -“ Brendon said, pushing back against Ryan’s fingers.
“Do you want me to stop?” Ryan asked. “If it hurts too much, tell me to stop.”
And it hurt, it burned and Brendon wondered if there’d be more give if they had actual lube and not just Ryan’s spit (applied with his tongue), but he did not want to stop. He shook his head.
“No, no I. No.” Brendon said. “Don’t stop. I can’t do this.”
“Uh,” Ryan said, and his fingers had stopped moving, still just inside. “Which is it?”
“Don’t stop,” Brendon repeated and he was digging his fingers into the sheets, gripping them tightly.
“Brendon, hey,” Ryan said. “Hey, look at me.” Brendon twisted so that he could see Ryan, and Ryan leaned forward, sliding back to just his fingertips, and he kissed Brendon softly. “You don’t have to do this. We can wait. We can not do this at all.”
Brendon hadn’t expected Ryan to be so sweet about it at all.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Brendon said. Ryan pulled his fingers away, urged Brendon to turn over onto his back and relax.
“You don’t have to,” Ryan said. “I mean, if you’re not into it you’re not into it, and I’m not going to force --“
“Shut up, Ryan,” Brendon said, and kissed him hard. “We just have to do something else, is all. It’s not. We can do whatever you want. Just not. I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Ryan said.
“I can’t,” Brendon said, starting to get angry. “I can’t, it hurts.”
“It hurts the first few times, Brendon. It always hurts a little. That’s part of the pleasure of it,” Ryan told him.
“But you probably had … well, more than spit the first time you did it,” Brendon said.
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “I also wanted it. I mean, really wanted it. I was going to do it no matter how much it hurt.”
“Pete shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that,” Brendon said, looking up at Ryan.
“I know,” Ryan said, and leaned down, kissing Brendon again. “Do you want to try something else, then?”
“I want to get off,” Brendon said. Ryan laughed at him.
“Of course,” he said, and then he was moving, shifting over to straddle Brendon’s hips again
"What are you going to do?" Brendon asked, a little startled. He was new to the whole gay sex thing, and Ryan was making him jump in with both feet.
"Just relax," Ryan said, and ripped the condom open, moving until he could reach Brendon's cock easily, moving so that he could slide the condom on.
"I don't want to hurt you," Brendon said, rolling his hips upward as Ryan's hands slid down his cock.
”You won't," Ryan said, and Brendon wasn't sure that Ryan wasn't lying. Brendon had thought that you had to get ready for this, but Ryan wasn't, and that scared Brendon. But Ryan was moving, bringing his body up, his hand wrapped around Brendon's cock as he guided Brendon in.
Brendon looked up, watching Ryan's face as Brendon's cock slid into him. Ryan's eyes were closed, his lashes dark along his cheek. Brendon moved his hands up to rest on Ryan's hips, sliding along his thighs. Brendon wanted to see any sign of pain on Ryan's face, wanted to watch for that and put a stop to it if he could, but the sensation of Ryan closed so tight around him forced his eyes shut and a noise from his throat. He hadn't expected this. Not at all.
Ryan moaned, his head falling back as he came to rest on the bed. He stayed like that for a moment, then opened his eyes, looking down at Brendon.
"Now what?" Brendon asked, and Ryan smiled, lifting himself up, then settling back with a little bit of a gasp.
This feels right, Brendon thought, and wondered why he hadn't been doing this all along. He lifted his hips up, tentative, testing whether he'd get away with doing it. The motion made Ryan gasp, made him go slack jawed, and Brendon liked that. He liked knowing he'd done that. Brendon liked the reassurance that he was doing a good job.
"Brendon," Ryan gasped out. "Brendon, do that." He rocked his hips and Brendon rolled his own hips up to Ryan's until they're moving together, slow, hot friction and this, the look on Ryan's face, the feeling of Ryan tight around him, was almost more than he could stand, but he wanted this to last. He was pretty sure Ryan would probably laugh at him if he came that fast.
Ryan leaned down, his lips almost close enough to touch Brendon’s, but not quite, and his breath was hot against Brendon’s mouth as he moaned, his eyes closed and Brendon was staring and he couldn’t help it. He thrust up hard and made Ryan gasp, gasp out his name and squeeze tight around him.
Brendon cried out and slammed his hips up, making Ryan yelp, as he came. Ryan looked at him, a little startled.
“Sorry,” Brendon said, and Ryan laughed, lowering his face down and really kissing Brendon, sucking the other boy’s bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at it gently before letting go.
“Don’t be sorry,” Ryan said. Brendon went limp, lying back on the bed. He was at least glad that Ryan wasn’t going to hold his lack of stamina against him.
Ryan pulled away, rolling onto his back, and Brendon watched as Ryan’s hand slid down, stroking his own cock slowly, and Brendon sat up, sliding the condom off and throwing it away before climbing back onto the bed, leaning over and kissing Ryan softly.
“Let me,” he said quietly. “Let me do it.”
Ryan moved his hand away and Brendon replaced it with his own stroking slowly, watching Ryan’s face as Brendon moved his hand over Ryan’s cock. Ryan bit his lip as Brendon touched him, making a tiny noise in the back of his throat. Brendon watched Ryan’s hands flutter, looking for a place to rest as Brendon jerked him off, before settling one in Brendon’s hair and the other tangled in the sheets.
Brendon’s strokes got rougher and faster until Ryan gasped, spilling sticky over Brendon’s hand and onto his own stomach, and he lay there, breathing hard and his eyes closed. Brendon kissed over Ryan’s face, damp with sweat now, and wiped his hand on the sheets.
“We can clean up in the morning,” Brendon murmured against Ryan’s skin, tasting the salt from the sweat and the taste of Ryan’s skin itself. Ryan nodded with a sigh.
Later, Brendon pulled the blankets up around them, and Ryan sighed again in his sleep, his body unconsciously shifting closer to Brendon’s.
***
Ryan doesn’t talk about it the next day, and Brendon can’t get him alone for long enough to say anything about it. The next day stretches into the day after, and then the day after that and Brendon begins to wonder if Ryan is still angry with him, going to keep avoiding him, until one afternoon he bounds back onto the bus to grab a hoodie to keep from being frozen out of the dressing room, and finds a present left for him on his pillow.
It’s another week before they’re in a hotel, and Brendon doesn’t dare try to say anything about it on the bus, or stay behind when Jon and Spencer decide it’s time for a night out. Ryan always turns them down, but Brendon never does and he’s too paranoid about seeming suspicious that he can’t tell them he’s staying behind now without thinking they’ll say something.
He doesn’t want Jon and Spencer to know what happened. He doesn’t want Jon and Spencer to know that he wants it to happen again.
He has no idea why he wants to keep it a secret, but that doesn’t change things.
The night they’re finally in a hotel room, he switched with Spencer, claiming that he just needed to talk to Ryan. Spencer only looked at him with a frown and dragged his bag into the room he was going to share with Jon.
Once they’re inside the room, Ryan sits down on the end of the bed, untying his shoes dropping them on the floor.
“Um. Ryan. Can we talk about. You know, what happened?” Brendon said.
“It’s called sex, Brendon,” Ryan said. “You’re an adult. You can say the word sex.”
He slid his shirt off and dropped it on the floor next to his bag before kneeling down and opening it up, sliding his belt off and winding it carefully before tucking it away. Brendon watched as Ryan tugged off his socks and then started rummaging through his bag.
“Okay, so we had sex and now you won’t talk to me?” Brendon said. Ryan stood up, walking over to the bed, where Brendon was sitting on the edge.
“I didn’t know we needed to talk about it. We had sex,” Ryan said, and Brendon looked up at Ryan, and Ryan was suddenly straddling Brendon’s knees, kneeling on the bed and looking down at Brendon. “There’s not thing to talk about. Except maybe about how we should do it again.”
“Uh. What?”
“I think you should take your pants off, Brendon,” Ryan said, then stood back up. It was then that Brendon realized that Ryan had a small tube in his hand.
Brendon suddenly thought that maybe skintight jeans were not the most prudent idea. He shimmied out of them in record time, tossing his t-shirt to the side as well. He watched as Ryan tossed the tube onto the bed, then slid his own jeans off.
“Lay down. On the bed. On your back,” Ryan said, motioning, and Ryan followed him right up, crawling up to lay beside him. “Let me fuck you this time.”
“Okay,” Brendon breathed, nodding, and Ryan reached out, turning Brendon’s face toward his and kissing him slowly. Then his hand slid over Brendon’s neck, down his chest and stomach to curl around his cock, stroking slowly. “Mmm,” said Brendon, arching his hips up into the touch, and whining a bit when Ryan’s hand moved away.
He opened his eyes in time to see Ryan squeezing lube out onto long fingers, coating them liberally in the stuff before bringing them down, using his palms to push Brendon’s legs apart, bringing his fingers down and pressing them against Brendon, not inside, but only barely. He rubbed, then slid the first finger in, making Brendon gasp.
It still hurt, even with the large amount of the slick lube on Ryan’s fingers, but Ryan was going slowly, steadily working him open with first one finger, then once Brendon was relaxed, a second. He moved his mouth slowly over Brendon’s jaw, lips and tongue and teeth, tasting the sweat dried there from the show, remnants of stage makeup, all Brendon. He worked his fingers in and out, scissoring them once, twice, making Brendon gasp.
“Does it hurt?” Ryan whispered to him.
“A little,” Brendon said, and shifted his knees, letting Ryan slide his fingers in and out. Brendon thought that he should maybe be offended by the fact that Ryan was finger fucking him like he was a girl, but part of it felt so good that he couldn’t complain.
Ryan added a third finger, making Brendon gasp. “No,” he whispered. “It’s too. It’s too much, I -“
“Shh,” said Ryan, pressing one finger of his free hand against Brendon’s lips. “Just relax. It’ll get better.” Brendon hoped that Ryan’s cock was not so much larger than his three slender fingers working in and out of Brendon’s body.
Brendon tried, he honestly did. And Ryan was right, once he was more relaxed, once he was adjusted to Ryan’s fingers there, pushed inside him as far as Ryan could make them go, curling and shifting and moving, it wasn’t so bad. In fact, after he was almost used to the sensation, it felt good. Good enough that he whispered Ryan’s name over and over again.
Until Ryan pulled his fingers away.
“No, I want -“ Brendon started.
Ryan cut him off with a warm press of lips, reaching out for the lube again, this time slicking his hand down his own cock, stroking it harder and harder, kneeling now between Brendon’s legs. “Just make sure you’re relaxed,” Ryan told him.
“I’m fine,” Brendon said, and Ryan’s hand wrapped around his cock, and Brendon whimpered just the slightest bit as Ryan’s cock touched him for the first time, pressed against him, started to push in. It hurt, it made Brendon cry out and shift, try to move away, but Ryan put his hand against Brendon’s hip and held him still, pushed in slowly, steadily, until he could go no farther.
“You’re okay,” Ryan whispered, kissing him softly. “You’re fine. Just relax and take a minute and you’ll be fine.”
“That’s way more than three fingers was,” Brendon said breathlessly, his eyes crushed shut and his eyebrows drawn together.
“Thank you,” said Ryan, and Brendon let out a nearly hysterical little laugh. “It’ll stop hurting.”
Brendon wondered if it had hurt this much the first time Ryan had done this, if Pete had been so nice or if he’d just started pounding into Ryan with complete disregard for how Ryan felt about it. Brendon lay there for a moment, wrapping his arms around Ryan, tracing fingers over Ryan’s bare back.
“Okay,” he finally said after what felt like infinite minutes laying there silently and unmoving. “Okay, I’m okay. Ryan I’m okay.” He repeated it over and over until Ryan kissed him, pulled back slowly, and pushed back in.
Brendon gasped and cried out.
“No I can’t do this. Ryan, I can’t do this, I -“
“Shut up, Brendon,” Ryan said, moving his hips slowly, letting Brendon adjust.
“No, it’s too much -“
Ryan closed his hand over Brendon’s mouth, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before he moved his hips again and Brendon’s eyes fluttered shut, his hips shifted up to meet Ryan’s. Ryan left his hand there, muffling Brendon’s moans, Brendon’s gasps, as he worked his way into a slow rhythm. He waited until Brendon started to meet his thrusts until he moved faster, moved his hand over to wrap around Brendon’s cock and stroke him in time.
Brendon opened his eyes again, looking up at Ryan, his eyes wide and dark and he just watched the other boy’s face, watched Ryan’s hair hanging down, sticking to the sweat, brushing across his cheeks. He watched Ryan’s face, the slight crease that meant he was concentrating, the way he bit his lip as he moved.
Ryan moved his hand away from Brendon’s mouth after few long moments, braced himself with it against the mattress next to Brendon’s head, leaned down and kissed Brendon, snapping his hips forward and making Brendon yelp, muffling it with his own mouth. He moaned himself, the sound lost in Brendon’s mouth as Brendon’s body went tight around him and spilled across Ryan’s hand, and he gasped as he came himself, buried into Brendon.
Brendon lay there in a daze as Ryan shifted, rested his head against Brendon’s shoulder. “You okay?” Ryan whispered once he’d caught his breath. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry if I did.”
“I’m glad you didn’t stop,” was all Brendon said. Ryan laughed softly, then pulled out, shifting to lay beside Brendon.
Ryan’s hand was sticky where it rested against Brendon’s chest, and he fell asleep so quickly, laying there with the tiniest hint of a smile on his face. Brendon stroked his hand over Ryan’s hair as the other boy slept. This was so fucking weird, Brendon thought. His body felt sore and strangely stretched, and he could only imagine what it would feel like in the morning.
He didn’t care. He wanted it again. Maybe he could persuade Ryan to do it again in the morning.
***
“So,” said Spencer, walking into the kitchenette of the bus where Jon was busily shoveling cereal into his mouth and trying to text at the same time. He looked up at Spencer. “Ryan and Brendon are fucking now.”
Jon swallowed. “You owe me 200 bucks,” he informed Spencer.
“What? Fuck you, I don’t owe you shit.” Spencer looked startled, pausing with the refrigerator door open.
“Oh yes,” Jon said. “I seem to remember that we made a bet. And I seem to remember that we shook hands on it. And I seem to remember that there were witnesses, and I said that Ryan and Brendon would start fucking before the end of the tour.”
“You lie,” Spencer said.
“I said to you, Spencer Smith, I will bet you 200 dollars that they will fuck by the end of tour,” Jon continued. “And you said, no way Jon Walker, Ryan has standards, and we shook on it. I will get Zack to refresh your memory if -“
“I hate you,” Spencer said dramatically. “I don’t have that much cash on me.”
“You’d better find it, then, because you owe me,” Jon said.
Spencer stalked back into the bunks in search of his wallet.
***
Title and lyrics from “A Break, A Pause” by As Tall As Lions, who are wonderful.
PS: this is not fucking "dub-con" or "non-con" you dumbasses. everyone consents to everything in it. CONSENTS. no one is forced to do anything. so shut the goddamned hell up.