Cramped Legs
Cramped Legs
Singer|Brian Dales
NC-17 ; 3919 words
Authors: worldonstringer ; ahomegirlslife
Disclaimer: if you found this by googling yourself, please don't tell our moms.
Please note:
* We decided to put Brian and Alex's bromestic partnership to good fic-able use.
* It's cramped and tiny in The Summer Set's van. Luckily Brian has uncanny charm and a pretty Alex with a big bus.
* This was beta'd by a boy, a real life one with boy bits and all, so feel free to point out any quirks. Love ya Nate! ♥
It's somewhere in the East, Brian can't be bothered to acknowledge where, when all of the buses stop and they have to stop the van. He slides the door open and hops out, wearing possibly Josh's shoes and a shirt he's worn on the van rides for three days straight, and finds the HK Army bus, which he is sure will be loaded with Alexes.
Singer sees him coming through the front lounge windows, meets him at the doors to let him in. He can't help the rather smug smile creeping across his face. "Tired of your little van, BDales?"
"Cramped fuckin' legs," Brian mumbles in return, leaning on the doorway. "May I?" he asks with a jerk of his head towards the inside of the bus.
"Duh," Singer says, steps back and lets him come up the stairs. "It's cause you're not pretty and pocket-sized like me."
"I'm handsome," Brian protests, furrowing his brows. "And charming." He lies down on one of the front lounge couches, limbs outstretched, sighing happily. "This is great, though. C'mere tiny Singerboy?" He wiggles his fingers at Alex, smirking.
Alex comes, face suspicious. "Why?" he asks, even as he sits down, pushing Brian's legs over a little to make room.
"Quality time, honey," Brian bats his eyelashes, rubbing Singer's back with one hand. "And, y'know, stuff."
"Uh," Singer says. "I'm not drunk?" The words sound weird in his mouth, but it's an honest question. Statement. Something.
Brian looks actually, genuinely kinda hurt when he says, "Are you trying to say I need alcohol to have fun with my boyfriend?" It tingles weird on his tongue, but he's not objecting at the feel of it, either. His hand stops to scratch slowly at Alex's lower back, wrist immobile.
Alex doesn't know what to say to that immediately, but the smile pulling his lips up, showing off his teeth, speaks for itself. He leans over into Brian, tugs at his shirt a little for emphasis. "I'm your boyfriend," he says, maybe a little too gleefully.
Brian nods, sitting up more, knees bending. "And boyfriends totally make out on each other's buses, even if one of them has a van with a girl in it who would gag so for general convenience they leave it in one's bus." After he finishes it he furrows his brows to himself, analyzing his own words.
Alex grins, his fingers playing on Brian's arms and up to his shoulders. "So, we totally get to make out now, right? Because other than Marshall there aren't any girls who cockblock on this bus."
Waggling his brows, Brian brings a steady hand to the back of Singer's neck, pulling him close and meshing their lips together with a slight tilt of his head. They fit together surprisingly well, Brian's lips moist and Alex's breath still reminiscent of mouthwash.
Alex whimpers into the kiss, a pleased, hungry sound that he can't really help. He likes kissing, likes making out in general, all the lips and hands everywhere and the touching. Right now, he really likes Brian, too.
Brian takes pride in his great kissing skills, and he feels at ease licking into Alex's mouth and exploring. He feels triumphant every time that Singer makes a tiny sound at the back of his throat, encouraging him to kiss deeper.
Singer slips into his lap in a mutual tumble of arms and legs that has Brian pulling at him and Singer pushing at him. In the end though, it's better, because Singer is the perfect size for Brian's lap, and Brian is actually quite comfortable. Singer tells him this, in between long, wet kisses.
Brian rests his hands at Alex's lower back, hands fisting into his shirt loosely, and presses his forehead against Alex's. "You're good at this, hm?" He mumbles, doesn't let Singer reply but instead bites his lower lip, tugging.
Singer leans into him, presses his face forward until his mouth covers Brian's, licks his lips sweetly. Damn right Alex is good at this.
They kiss until Brian's a bit out of breath, and Singer is panting low. Brian smiles sweetly when he pulls away and Singer's lips are slightly swollen, shiny. "So," he rasps, "do I get to ride with you guys 'til next city?"
Singer licks his lips, looks at Brian a minute. "If you want, I guess." He looks down at his lap, Brian's legs, and then back up. "Because it's hot in the van, or because you want to spend time with me?" Which really, Singer knows better than to ask questions he won't like the answers to, but he's bad at doing things he knows better than. For instance, assholes.
"Uh," Brian shrugs, smiling temptively. "Bit of both? I mean."
Singer sighs. "This is why we're better off kissing," he says, and brings Brian's face back to his with both hands.
Brian doesn't object, as long as he has Alex on him kissing enthusiastically like he does and the leg space to do so. He slips a hand under Singer's shirt, rubbing his back softly.
Singer knows that at some point Marshall and Johnson and Joey and Bradley will return from their venturing and food-gathering. Some point soon, too, judging by how long he and Brian have gone uninterrupted. He presses a solid, deep kiss into Brian's lips, then pulls back a little. "Okay, do you want to move before the guys get back?"
Brian nods. "I think Johnson wants to punch me, let's get to the back." He nudges Singer off of his lap, gets up and wipes his mouth on the back of one hand, holding the other out for Alex. It's kind of douchey in a way, but lots of things Brian does are douchey, dismissable.
Alex takes his hand quickly, mostly in the interests of precipitating their move to the back, because everyone mostly hates Brian anyway, even if he is one of their best friends. Singer doubts that seeing him sucking their lead singer's face off would help their opinions much.
By now Brian knows his way inside The Cab's bus, leads Singer to the back lounge and closes the door behind him. He slumps on the couch, staring up at Singer, still holding his hand. "So. Much. Space."
Alex smiles, smug and a little amused. He doesn't make any move to reclaim his place on Brian's lap, though. It's odd, because with anyone else, Singer doesn't think twice. It's just different, he tells himself. Brian is- but the fact is Brian isn't any different from any other douchebag with a soft spot for Alex's ass. Alex sits down on the couch next to him and stares at the door.
Brian is cheap sometimes, and he tends to pull cheap moves (he'd much rather refer to them as classics either way). He yawns over dramatically, stretching his arms high over his head and bringing them down slowly to rest lined on the back of the couch. Leaving his arm almost-draped over Alex's shoulders, he wiggles closer, smiling. "So."
Alex smiles a little despite himself, rolls his eyes and looks over at Brian. "Come here often?" he returns.
"Whenever I'm invited," Brian says, letting his hand rest on Alex's shoulder. "They have some fine tail, here."
"My ass brings all the boys to the yard," Alex says quietly, and then starts giggling, can't continue.
Brian laughs full out, bending over, eyes pooled with tears. "Dude, warn me before you're gonna say these things!"
And this smile, this smile for Alex is very real, happy even, as he pats Brian's back. "I'll try to remember to," he says.
Brian does something different, then. He doesn't try to kiss Alex again, or to get touchy-feely, or any of the things Alex would've expected. Instead, he rests his head on Alex's shoulder, still smiling, and hums happily. "Can we like, watch a movie? Or something?"
“Um," Alex says, caught a little off-kilter. "Yeah, I guess. Or we've got games, if you wanted to play something. You know where stuff is."
"Dude, did you guys bring Mario Kart?" Brian asks enthusiastically, walking over to the cabinet on the side where boxes of DVDs and videogames are lined up. He looks through the titles, smiling triumphantly when he finds what he was looking for. "Wanna play?"
Singer knows his eyes are probably still a size too large, but he swallows the relieved, curious feeling and nods enthusiastically. "Hell yeah, Dales. Imma beat your scrawny ass!"
"Look who's talkin'!" Brian laughs, handing over a controller.
They play into the next city unbothered, and Brian's sure he hears voices outside more than once speculating about what they might be doing. It's comical when Sonny whines about some movie or whatever that's still in the back, and the warning tone when Johnson tells him to "stay away from Singer and Dales or you won't see your sheets again until the end of tour."
Alex can almost forget there was a point where they moved from friends to messing around- can almost pretend this is how it always is, always should be. (And maybe it ~should, but he can't argue that right now.) Every once in awhile though, he looks over at Brian and his stomach does a weird flip-flopping thing that makes him wonder why, again, Brian is doing this.
They've played for at least an hour when Singer throws down his remote after a particularly spirited level. "You win," he declares, "I give up."
Brian laughs, throwing his arms up. "Fuck yeah!" he bellows, smiling at Alex. "I'm clearly superior, nothing you can do about it!"
Alex leans back into the sofa, sprawling, and lets his eyes drift almost shut. Then he watches Brian out of his peripheral vision as he says, "Maybe at videogames, but I'm the master of the french kiss."
Brian kind of sputters for a minute, because Alex is the first person he's heard referring to making out as french kissing in a long-ass time (since like, middle school.) He regains his composure as best as he can, still smiling at Alex; "You're weird." He raises his eyebrows, though, and adds, "Wanna show me?"
"But you already know I'm right." It's not really an objection, Alex is moving towards Brian anyway, has his hands on Brian's leg and is crawling into his space even as the last words leave his mouth. He doesn't sit down though, just stays hovering, waits for a reaction.
"Well, yeah," Brian mumbles, shrugging. "Doesn't change the fact that I wanna kiss you."
Alex smiles, sweet and almost adoring, eyes crinkled up. "That was kinda sweet," he says, and kisses Brian before he can speak again and ruin it.
And yeah, it's probably for the better that Brian's mouth is too busy on Alex's, and his hands are at Alex's waist, pulling him onto his lap again. It's comfortable; Alex really is nice and light, and he really does know how to kiss.
It's somehow more real this time, more focused, at least on Alex's end, or maybe it's just that now the feeling is mutual, that both of them are working towards the same end. Alex's hands are restless, moving from Brian's shoulders to his hair to his chest to his biceps and back to his shoulders. It's been weeks since he's done even this much, since the last time he and Brian were together. He doesn't ask Brian how long it's been for him.
Alex is past the point of caring if anyone hears- actually he's not a very subtle person when it comes to these situations anyway, so he's long resigned to just accepting the mockery after the fact. Brian isn't complaining though, at the way Alex can't stop humming, whining, moaning a little as Brian licks deep into his mouth. It's Brian's own fault, anyway, Alex reasons.
He has to shift a little, trying to rearrange his tight jeans stealthily with one hand, but it doesn't actually work because he ends up kind of stroking Brian's crotch instead.
It's Brian's turn to moan, sweet and high against Alex's lips, because that shouldn't have been an accident. He maneuvers Alex's hips, moves him carefully to straddle his thigh, and this is much more comfortable and practical than anything else Brian has done today. He arches up against Alex slightly, giving himself a mental pat on the back when the feeling tingles low in his stomach, travels up his spine.
Alex makes a noise somewhere between a whine and a sob, breaks the kiss and leans his head into Brian's shoulder. It's too much, suddenly, and his jeans are too tight, and just. He's still making some incomprehensible noise, and he can't ask Brian to stop, it feels so good, but he hopes that somehow he'll get the fact this isn't going to work.
Brian busies himself at Alex's neck immediately, and the mark he hopes to leave is worth the possible beating he will get from drummer-Alex. His hands move low under Singer's bellybutton, thumb rubbing just above the button of his jeans, teeth grazing just under Alex's ear. "So," he whispers, breathing on the wet spot on Alex's neck.
Alex whimpers, soft and tiny compared to the rest of his vocabulary's volume at the moment. "Bri," he says.
Brian isn't in the mood for on-edge-and-desperate, aiming for a delivered-just-in-time; he kisses Alex's neck again as his hands work on getting Alex's jeans open, unzipped. Even though he's not even trying, Brian manages to make Alex fall apart on top of him, pushing up to make him moan lower, needier.
"Shit," Alex tells him, seriously, pressing a half-kiss, half-whine into his neck. "Brian."
"Alex?" Brian replies, and for a second he stops, breathing softly against Singer's pulse. His hands stop on Alex's thighs, imprinting warmth on him.
"No, no, it's good," Alex says, lifts his head to meet Brian's eyes. "Just, um. Wanted it to last longer?" He's maybe blushing. Maybe a little bit. But Brian doesn't seem about to point that out, which is a surprise, and rather comforting.
Brian nods slowly, moving a hand up to hold Alex's chin up, thumb brushing at his scruff, and kiss him again. Slowing down again is a small price to pay for Brian; he has the time and a feeling in his gut that tells him he actually wants things to last with Alex.
Alex kisses back eagerly, tongue flickering against Brian's lips. Then he pulls back, encouraged by the apparent change in mood. "Pants?" he asks, fingers in Brian's beltloops, tugging a little for emphasis. And he's not sure what he's even asking for- when it leaves his lips he wonders immediately if it's too much- but if they really are boyfriends, then. Alex might as well test the boundaries. He knows this theoretically, but really he's still just young and terrified of rejection. He waits on Brian with wide eyes.
The way Alex is so jittery, so on edge, has Brian stopping again, this time with a hand on Alex's, still holding onto his belt loop. He furrows his brows up at Alex, then smiles small and sweet. "God, Songbird," is all he says, popping his button open, unzipping his jeans.
Alex smiles back, relieved, and instead of asking, just tips them over across the couch, so that Brian's back is against the back of the cushions, and Singer has to lean into him to avoid the edge. Then his hands start working on Brian's pants, tugging them down gently, a little at a time.
He's kissing Brian again, too, and maybe that's supposed to distract Brian- or even Alex- but it doesn't. Alex is fully aware that if they go much farther, it'll be further than they've ever gone. Handjobs they've done, yes, but with jean buttons popped or barely slipped off the hips. And Brian's jeans are already at his thighs, still working down.
Brian is not about to object at the way Alex seems to have taken the lead, and he lifts his hips up, at the same time pulling Alex's pants down. He's maybe a bit nervous, mostly pleased at himself but overall enjoying the hungry tinge in Alex's glances. He's fully hard by now, biting back the smallest sounds when Alex's fingers brush against his thighs.
Alex starts kissing along Brian's collarbone, mostly because if he doesn't he might do something embarrassing like start talking about how awesome all this is. When Brian's fingers, on their way back up from Alex's jeans, brush the seams of his briefs, however, Alex can't stop himself biting down hard. Brian wriggles, and Alex can only second that sentiment.
"Fuck, baby," Brian is holding back less, slipping his hands under Alex's knees and pulling him closer. It's awkward for a minute, moving his hands to Alex's hipbones, but it's totally worth it when he finds a way to align their hips together and push up against Alex.
Alex pushes back, quick, twining his legs around Brian's and using that blessed leverage for contact. He slides a hand to fit into the angles of Brian's hip, fingers just under the edge of his boxers, light touches against the heat of his skin.
It's a bit of an impulse when Brian straight up shoves his hand inside Alex's underwear and wraps a hand around his cock, staring up at him with dark eyes. Alex's face makes up for it, as Brian rubs his thumb along the slit.
Alex mewls, a tiny urgent sound that reverberates as he noses into Brian's neck. He moves a hand between them, carefully following the crease of Brian's thigh inwards until he can twist his palm over the head of his cock, and Brian swears.
Brian has to steady his breathing before he can stroke Alex's length, pressing his lips to Alex's temple. With his other hand he pulls Alex's briefs out of the way, leaves them mid-thigh to palm Alex's ass.
Alex groans, lower than usual and almost gritty, brings his hand up and licks over his fingers, palm carefully before returning it to Brian's dick. It's almost weird, and he's strangely self-conscious about his technique, trying to work backwards from the angles and things he likes. Brian apparently shares none of his nervousness, is almost nonchalant in jerking him off. But it's not as quick as before, as the other times they've done this, not as reckless, and Alex appreciates that.
Brian moves his hand up to Alex's lower back, leaves it just over his ass and digs his nails into the skin when Alex's hand moves around him in a particular way, just under the head of his dick. His pace is still slow, tighter at the base and loosening progressively around Alex's cock, and his lips leave wet trails at Alex's neck.
Alex is shivering involuntarily, knees knocking gently at Brian's, and he knows he's off-rhythm, but the look on Brian's face keeps him going. The best seems to be when he keeps his hand high and squeezes a little below the slit, tightens as his wrist moves. He lets a finger trail up and down the underside of Brian's erection, too, tracing the vein slowly. He thinks hazily he could do this forever, except for the vague ache in his arm.
Even though it's not the best hand job Brian has ever had, the fact that this is Alex gives him a nagging feeling at the back of his brain, and the warmth low in his stomach tingles in a way he's never felt this strong before. It's there when he looks up at Alex, the way his skin is moist and his curls are tucked behind his ear, unexplainable. All he can do is try to catch Alex's pale green eyes in his, spread Alex's precome in his fingers to aid his slowly quickening strokes.
"Really close," Alex tells him, choked, trying to catch his mouth but ending up kissing at Brian's chin instead, quick and wet. He looks up to find Brian staring at him curiously, a look Alex can't really interpret at the moment- and isn't sure he could ever, really. For a second Alex is spellbound, forgetting the approaching climax, forgetting even to move his hand on Brian's dick.
The closest he can come to explaining the look on Brian's face is a confused "he looks like Marshall"--which doesn't make any sense at all, because Brian is nowhere near as pretty as Marshall is. But it's a similar expression, reading like caution not to break Singer and affection, and it's nothing Alex has seen before on Brian.
It's probably better that Brian can't hear Alex's thoughts, tugging Alex's cock in short, fast strokes. He moves down that missing inch to suck Alex's lower lip into his mouth, bite down gently. Alex bucks his hips as he comes in warm spurts, streaking Brian's lower belly, the hem of his shirt.
He whines loud into the kiss, hand tightening around Brian's erection and pulling faster, the rest of his body limp and plastered against Brian's side. "Brian," he pants, drawing out the syllables. "Brian, baby, please-" Brian is still moving against him, hips restless, and it's too much to Alex's over-sensitivized body.
The tingling in Brian's lower body peaks and he comes, half-moaning and sighing against Alex's jawbone. Everything is too hot around him, and his eyes squeeze shut as Alex strokes him through his orgasm. He builds up too much strength for a task as easy as opening his eyes would be, were he not under Alex and seconds after climaxing, to stare up at him, marveling at just how pretty Alex looks, spent.
Alex stares back, feels his eyes sliding closed and makes himself re-open them. His hand is still around Brian's dick, open and loose and sticky, and he pulls it up from between them, too tired to be disgusted, and lets it fall at Brian's side, on his shirt where it's rucked up. He's still awake enough to not let it touch Brian's skin, obviously. That would be gross and inconsiderate. He does let his forehead fall onto Brian's shoulder, though, can't keep eye contact any longer.
"Um, thanks," he says, softly, afraid to talk too loud because his voice might crack, or one of the other guys might hear from outside and never let him forget he told Brian Logan Dales thank you for a handjob.
Brian breathes a soft laugh into Alex's ear, an audible smile. Still recovering from his orgasm, it takes a few seconds to gather some light snark, whisper a breathy "'s least I could do, you asked so nicely." He knows he's not making much sense but hopes Alex, warm and careful and small as he is, understands how high in the clouds he's floating. It's weird, and no one has ever really made him feel this way so casually before. Brian kisses Alex's temple, moves his hand carefully and loosely fisted to rest palm-down on his shirt.
“I think I like being boyfriends,” Alex whispers back, equally breathy, and hopes Brian gets that it’s a reference to their conversation earlier.
"Yeah," Brian mumbles, nuzzling closer to Alex. "Me too."
"Nap?" Alex asks, hiding a smile in a kiss against Brian's jaw. "Cause naps are cool, Brian."
Brian creeps his hand closer to Alex's on his side, touching his fingertips against Alex's thumb, just for the contact, and nods. "Nap."
They fall asleep nearly holding hands, sticky sweet.