Man, missing out does not stop me from porning apparently.
Seriously, I feel so out of the loop. I didn't even know about Keltie and Ryan until Aly told me today. Wow, this is what happens when you don't check your flist in a month. Guys, seriously, I need to get back into this. Link me shit! What has happened since January? Any new fics I should know about? Anybody gotten knocked up or broken up or something? I mean, aside from the obvious.
Of course, you know, gossip aside, that didn't stop us from writing porn about the poor boy. And yes, you guessed it, genderswap.
Linn: Also, relatedly, wouldn't it be hilarious if Ryan's huge dingdong translated to a pair of truly gigantic bazoombas if he was a girl?
Aly: I would actually lol forever
Linn: He wouldn't be able to walk upright! Aly, we need to write this at some point. Genderfuckery, and Ryan wakes up a girl! And people CANNOT stop staring at his chest.
Aly: OMG. Brendon looks like this: O.O. Not that he's honestly thought about Ryan as a girl, but honest to god, Ryan has the biggest fucking tits he's ever seen on a natural body.
And he's so SKINNY too, so he totally looks like a hairy sort of pornstar. And the thing is, he still kind of looks like Ryan, just a bit more feminine around the face and hips, so it's fucking weird. Even Spencer's got this lecherous gleam in his eyes, and Ryan complains about backpains until someone takes pity on him and makes a trip to Victoria's Secret.
And, honestly, shopping there is probably the most awkward moment of Ryan's life. Seriously, he's wandering through hundreds and hundreds of rows of bras and he has no idea which of them are going to hold these fucking monsters in place. They are bouncing all over the goddamn place and making his spine feel like it's going to crack in half. Granted, he does find one that's black with some nice red piping shit going on that works pretty well, but it's also a push up, so now they're bouncing and getting up into his CHIN and he has to shove his shoulders back. This is the most ridiculous thing that's ever happened to him and his shirts don't fit anymore.
Hell, he's had to use Jon's and even they are stretchy. One of the saleswomen come up to him and asks if she can help and Ryan wants to say no -- dear god, does he want to say no -- but he's got these monsters hanging down his front, and he needs to find something that actually holds them in place. The worst part is the looks, really. His entire band, plus Zack, is waiting outside and even Zack's eyes go to Ryan's chest the moment he steps out. The bra does wonders, but when he can even traumatize his bodyguard who could break him in half, Ryan mostly just wants to take his big tits and go home. Spencer cheerfully suggests that they should go buy him some shirts, unless he wants to use Zack's as a dress, and Ryan really should get better friends. Of course, then Spencer slings an arm around his shoulder and hugs him, so maybe Ryan'll forgive him just this once.
Just this ONCE. And only because he really actually does need some new clothes or he's going to resort to looking like a hooker in tee shirts two sizes too small. Shopping at the girl's section isn't honestly that weird, but buying girl's tee shirts is a little weird. He ends up with a couple tee shirts that actually have some room in the tits, glory, glory hallelujah, and even a couple hoodies. Ugh. Tits are fucking lame and Ryan wants to get them off. Except, like, when he changes back into a dude he doesn't want to have no balls. It's a fucking conundrum.
The whole physiological thing is an issue, definitely. Ryan feels like he has had to relearn how to walk almost, with these new hips and center of gravity and GIGANTIC FUCKING TITS THAT ARE IN THE WAY ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Seriously, he never had this much issues with his cock. He has to hold himself differently too, or else his back just hurts too much. The worst part though? Suddenly he understands girls who talk about guys speaking to their chest, or feeling exposed the moment they walk outside the door. Seriously, if this is what it's like for girls, he doesn't blame them. Actually, he doesn't understand why you'd want to accentuate this shit, because all this attention -- guys staring at him like he's a prime piece of rib or something -- is making him fucking nervous.
It makes him jumpy and shit, Jesus. Like, honestly, his eyes are bout ten inches north, assholes of the world. And there's honestly nothing all that special about cleavage, it's just a line between two body parts. He sort of feels all fucking exposed and nervous, unless he's with Spencer or Zack. Especially Spencer. Spencer's tall and he'll throw a somewhat proprietary arm around Ryan's shoulders and that's usually enough to make people look the other way, or at least have a little bit of discretion.
Ryan can pretend for a moment that he has a tall, bearded boyfriend and cuddle up a little extra. Whatever makes the dicks go away or stop looking. Spencer's got a fantastically threatening glare. Because it doesn't seem to matter that the rest of Ryan is kind of androgynous, what with his short hair and still kind of boyish features, what people focus on are the tits. He kind of feels like this body would have been better suited on a girl with blonde hair and a predilection for bunny suits. The vagina is also kind of weird, and all in all, this female body is a menace and a fucking disappointment. Because touching yourself down there? Doesn't feel as good as you'd think, and his tits are big and cumbersome and not actually all that sensitive, not even the nipples. It seems like there is some special grip there that Ryan just hasn't figured out and as for the downstairs department, poking around there is mostly dry and uncomfortable, and rubbing his clit feels kind of good, but also like he needs to pee. It's just weird. Women does not cease to be a mystery just because he currently possesses the body of one.
Which is a mild disappointment, he can't lie. Especially the whole clit thing. what happened to those rumors about multiple orgasms in five minutes and all that jazz? He really wanted THAT one to be true. HE says at much to Spencer, one night when they're curled up on the couch after Brendon and Jon have gone to bed or to their bunks to do whatever it is they do before they fall asleep. Spencer looks at him and looks at him and, really, Ryan's skin is beginning to go tingly and uncomfortable, because it's not like the female body comes with an instruction manual or anything like that. Nope, just the same amount of questions he had when he was fucking the female body and not stuck inside it. Spencer leans in, shimmying closer, and Ryan's heart picks up a coupe extra beats and flood of warmth shudders through him.
"Here," Spencer says, and, hey, his fingers are totally sliding down the waistband of Ryan's boxers. And...suddenly he's not so dry anymore?
Oh, so THAT'S what it feels like to get turned on from the female side. It's not hugely different, but instead of blood pulsing to one specific point, Ryan kind of feels like he's melting. Because while his own fingers apparently lack the ability to make him feel good, Spencer is apparently made out of sunshine and magic, and Ryan always knew he was special, but dear god, he never knew Spencer's fingers could do THAT. Spencer's fingers dip down, a little inside, and something clenches inside. Ryan realizes that he really does want Spencer's fingers inside, and he's kind of disappointed when they slide up again. Not so disappointed when Spencer finds his clit and rubs, hard. DEFINITELY magic fingers. Ryan never ever managed to do that in all his tries and if Spencer could do that forever and for always, that'd be sweet.
He comes HARD, with a cry that he means to muffle through his teeth, but doesn't manage to quite stifle successfully. Like, he feels like he's dripping Spencer's fingers are rubbing so hard and so insistently. Ryan needs him to not ever stop, because this is far and away the most fantastic thing he has ever felt.
There are the same tingly aftershocks that makes the muscles in his stomach and thighs spasm a little, but the new part is the clenching that still going on. Because instead of being completely wiped, Ryan kind of wants something inside him to clench around. Spencer still has his hand down Ryan's boxers, fingers resting, and his eyes are blown and there is a quite noticeable tenting in his pants. All in all, he looks good enough to eat and while Ryan has entertained thoughts of Spencer naked once or twice or fifteen times, he has never felt like THIS, this diffuse wanting, longing almost. He wants Spencer to go on, and he wants him to stop because he's too sensitive, and Spencer's fingers are just resting there, sometimes carding through the hair a little, like a reminder.
Ryan's used to coming and feeling completely sated, like all that matters in the world is slipping into hazy sleep. This is different. He feels more awake now, thrumming with energy and want and need and whole crashing mess of emotions that Spencer's insinuating hand only intensifies. Ryan's always been sort of peripherally interested in cock and, for all that he's well aware he can be a dick when it comes to relationships, he's also one of those people genuinely more attracted to personality than anything else. (IE: Pete, but that's a whole different bit of psychological fuckery about similarly broken people). This is different. This is want that starts in those clenching muscles low down in his belly and radiates outwards along his nerves. Spencer's dick is very obvious hard in his pants and Ryan wants very much to lie back and have Spencer fuck him hard.
He wonders if Spencer would do it, if Ryan asked prettily enough would he spread Ryan out on the couch and fuck him through next week and beyond. He wonders what he would have to say to actually make it happen. He's still a little sweaty, and his muscles are all weak and stupid, but he reaches out and touches Spencer's cheek. The beard is roughsoft under his fingertips, and he really wants Spencer to kiss him, right the fuck now. Spencer leans into the touch with a tiny, tiny sigh and that, more than anything else, is what makes Ryan rear up and plant a clumsy kiss on Spencer's bitten lips. It's stupid and off-center and sloppy, but Ryan wants to do it again almost immediately.
This is beyond strange, but heady and wonderful in the same moment. Ryan remembers them being fourteen and stupid, jerking each other off sitting with their backs pressed against the wall, not meeting each others' eyes. It's like that, almost, but so infinitely much more. Neither of them are fumbling virgins anymore, for one thing, and they're both shivering with what Ryan really fucking hopes is mutual want. Spencer's mouth is soft and shiny, which is kind of silly, but he's got his hand still curved around Ryan's still strange girl bits.
Ryan really, really wants them both naked. And Spencer kisses back, is the thing, he kisses back, and Ryan will have beard burn, but he doesn't even care and it's amazing. Because this Spencer, 21 years old and hotter than he has any right to be, knows how to kiss. Ryan bites Spencer's lip and sucks on his tongue and wants, more than anything he wants. If he's honest, it scares him a little too, what he wants Spencer to do, because while he's definitely no virgin as a boy, his equipment hasn't actually been used that way as a girl, and it's a little frightening, but also a lot exciting. And then Spencer's hand slides down again, stroking over Ryan's clit again, and Ryan moans into Spencer's mouth. It's too much and just right at the same time and Ryan spreads his legs, because he wants more.
Ryan's sitting on the couch in a pair of his old boxers that still fit and one of his new tee shirts without the bra on underneath. He can see the peak of his nipples through the thin fabric and he wants very much to find out what Spencer's mouth rough against them would feel like. His hips are starting to pulse a little, flexing up a small space up from the couch and Spencer's eyes look blown and wanting.
"Ryan," he says, softly under his breath and, honestly, if Ryan is never going to fuck anyone else as a girl, he really fucking needs that one person to be Spencer.
Ryan wants to climb him like a goddamn tree, and it isn't exactly a new feeling as such -- there has maybe been times when he's wanted to do something similar in the past, occasionally -- but it's a lot more intense than anything from before.
"Spence," he tries to say when the pad of Spencer's finger slides against him again, slick and rough at the same time, and oh, so fucking good. What comes out is a whimper, and a "please". And Spencer fucking shocked the pants off Ryan -- almost literally -- when he got his hand down there, so it's clearly Ryan's turn to return the favor.
Somehow Ryan's boxers end up on the floor and, a moment later, Spencer's sweatpants join them. The bus is quiet, except for the quiet rumble of the bus's tires on the road and the wind rushing around them. Every now and then, when the driver switches gears, there will be a grumble, but that's it. Ryan eases back until his head rests on the arm of the couch and his shoulders and settled comfortable on the cushions. It takes more than a little shifting and, with anyone else, it would be so fucking awkward, but it's Spencer and it's not. Spencer's dick is hard and flushes, curved up along his hip, and, Jesus fucking Christ, their hips are pressed together and Spencer's fucking dick is teasing against the line of his cunt and rubbing up against his clit. The sensation is very nearly too much, so soon after having just come, but all he can think is how badly they need to go from this teasing shit to fucking.
He slides one of his legs up Spencer's hip, holding him there, and rubs up against him. Spencer drops his head forwards then, against Ryan's collarbone, as his hips twitch against Ryan and it's too awesome for words.
"Please," Ryan says again, quietly and Spencer looks up. Their eyes lock and then. Then. Oh, Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the camel, then Spencer is there and he's pushing inside and it's too tight and too much and it actually, actually feels good and Ryan feels like he's going to pop. It's good and not at the same time, that deep, clenching ache stilled, but the more immediate pain of him stretching around Spencer has taken its place, and despite all that, Ryan wants more, wants him deeper inside, wants him to never stop.
It's a strange clash of experience and expectation and sensation. On the one hand, it's undeniably really fucking strange to have a dick pushing into him. It's completely alien and bordering on too much, too different from what he's used to and what he knows. But. But. There's some about the slow stretched and the sense of being filled that has heat bursting through his body and exploding behind his eyelids. His hips come up off the bed, searching for an even deeper push inside and Spencer obliges, coming down to meet him with a faint slap of skin.
Ryan wraps his legs around Spencer's waist -- something about these hips and legs and joints makes that a little easier than usual -- and takes a deep breath. Spencer's eyes are still meeting his, and Spencer looks wrecked, eyes blown. "Okay?" he whispers and Ryan nods jerkily, because oh, god, yes, is he ever. He clenches down experimentally, and it feels so incredibly different and alien, this hard, hot thing inside him, and Spencer moans above him. Then Spencer moves and there is a slow rough drag on Ryan's insides, burning all the way out and in again, and if this gets any more awesomely weird, Ryan doesn't know what he'll do with himself.
The funny thing is, penetration is fucking ridiculous and insane and wonderful, but it's not nearly as immediate as Spencer's thumb pressing hard against his clit was. Which, okay, that's going to count as one of those myths he never knew whether to believe or not as being actually true, girls don't have an easy time getting off on just straight fucking. "Can you," Ryan says and comes out a little breathier and more desperate than he would have expected, because the drag against the deepest parts of him is still incredible. "Your hand. Please. Jesus."
Spencer actually chuckles, but even that is awesome, deep and dark and somehow masculine and it makes Ryan all tingly in stupid ways again, and then Spencer moves his hand down and rubs. The angle is the awkwardest fucking thing in the history of man, but it's still so fucking good Ryan could cry. He can't help but to whine, deep in his throat, move his hips against Spencer's, against Spencer's fingers, and he has no idea how Spencer still keeps a rhythm going, but he blames Spencer's amazing fucking drummer-fu for that. Ryan is mostly busy with feeling like he's melting from his cunt on up.
Spencer's rhythm eventually becomes more and more erratic and his breath comes in hard, gasping pants. Ryan knows what's going to happen, because God knows he's heard Spencer jerk off enough times in the years we've been friends, but it still catches him off guard when Spencer's entire body snaps taunt and he comes buried deep inside Ryan.
He never really thought it'd feel much of anything, being on the receiving end, but it's different and kind of amazing, and now he gets to see it from up close. Spencer's hands are going useless, but as soon as he catches his breath he looks up, sweaty and flushed and kisses Ryan carefully, even as he rubs hard. Ryan comes -- again -- on a shout.
Linn: And then Ryan is going to get all, "but what if he doesn't like me as a boy, woe"
Aly: OM NOM NOM NOM. "SPENCER, SPENCER, WILL YOU STILL LIKE MY DICK? D: BRENDON, WHAT IF HE DOESN'T LIKE MY DICK." "Well, if how much he likes your tits is any indication of how much he's going to like your balls, I'm pretty sure you'll be okay."
Linn: BRENDON IS FREAKED OUT BY THE TITTIES. HE LIKED RYAN'S COCK MUCH BETTER.
Linn: BUT HE'S NOT GAY
Linn: HE WISHES YOU COULD MEET HIS GIRLFRIEND WHO LIVES IN CANADA
Aly: HER NAME IS ALBERTA. SHE LIVES IN VANCOUVER. SHE COOKS LIKES HIS MOTHER AND SUCKS LIKE A HOOVER
Linn: SHIT HER NAME IS ALBERTA SHE LIVES IN VANCOUVER SHE IS HIS GIRLFRIEND, HIS WONDERFUL GIRLFRIEND WHO LIVES IN CANADA. AND HE CAN'T WAIT TO EAT HER PUSSY AGAIN
Aly: "...okay? Bren, the last time we were in Canada was, like, eight months ago?"
Linn: Curses, they saw through his clever scheme. Foiled again!
Aly: Foiled, foiled, foiled!
Linn: Dangit. And meanwhile, Ryan's got tits and a pussy and Spencer is spending a lot of time enjoying that. Ryan especially enjoyed it when Spence ate him out.
Aly: That was aaaaaaaaaawesome. Ryan has never been so loud during sex in his LIFE.
Linn: Of course, Jon and Brendon are a little weirded out by that
Aly: Whatever, Ryan doesn't even care. "Shit, do you KNOW what it feels like to have someone's TONGUE curling around your cunt? No? Then shut the fuck up."
Linn: And Brendon grumbles that he's still go a better ass than Ryan does, girl or not.
Aly: "You're just jealous I'm getting some. How's that celibacy shit working out for you?"
Linn: And Brendon mutters something about finding the right girl and Ryan laughs until he chokes.
Aly: "One with a dick?"
Linn: At which point Brendon stomps away, and seriously he should get a girlfriend just to annoy Ryan if it weren't for the fact that vaginas kind of gross him out.
Aly: Boobs are okay and girls in and of themselves are just fine. Vaginas are gross. And gaping.
Linn: Brendon has watched entirely too much bad porn with his friends, for real.
Aly: Seriously. Poor, Brendon.
Linn: He needs more cock applied to his body in various debauched manners.
Aly: Cock will solve most problems, I feel.
Of course, you know, gossip aside, that didn't stop us from writing porn about the poor boy. And yes, you guessed it, genderswap.
Linn: Also, relatedly, wouldn't it be hilarious if Ryan's huge dingdong translated to a pair of truly gigantic bazoombas if he was a girl?
Aly: I would actually lol forever
Linn: He wouldn't be able to walk upright! Aly, we need to write this at some point. Genderfuckery, and Ryan wakes up a girl! And people CANNOT stop staring at his chest.
Aly: OMG. Brendon looks like this: O.O. Not that he's honestly thought about Ryan as a girl, but honest to god, Ryan has the biggest fucking tits he's ever seen on a natural body.
And he's so SKINNY too, so he totally looks like a hairy sort of pornstar. And the thing is, he still kind of looks like Ryan, just a bit more feminine around the face and hips, so it's fucking weird. Even Spencer's got this lecherous gleam in his eyes, and Ryan complains about backpains until someone takes pity on him and makes a trip to Victoria's Secret.
And, honestly, shopping there is probably the most awkward moment of Ryan's life. Seriously, he's wandering through hundreds and hundreds of rows of bras and he has no idea which of them are going to hold these fucking monsters in place. They are bouncing all over the goddamn place and making his spine feel like it's going to crack in half. Granted, he does find one that's black with some nice red piping shit going on that works pretty well, but it's also a push up, so now they're bouncing and getting up into his CHIN and he has to shove his shoulders back. This is the most ridiculous thing that's ever happened to him and his shirts don't fit anymore.
Hell, he's had to use Jon's and even they are stretchy. One of the saleswomen come up to him and asks if she can help and Ryan wants to say no -- dear god, does he want to say no -- but he's got these monsters hanging down his front, and he needs to find something that actually holds them in place. The worst part is the looks, really. His entire band, plus Zack, is waiting outside and even Zack's eyes go to Ryan's chest the moment he steps out. The bra does wonders, but when he can even traumatize his bodyguard who could break him in half, Ryan mostly just wants to take his big tits and go home. Spencer cheerfully suggests that they should go buy him some shirts, unless he wants to use Zack's as a dress, and Ryan really should get better friends. Of course, then Spencer slings an arm around his shoulder and hugs him, so maybe Ryan'll forgive him just this once.
Just this ONCE. And only because he really actually does need some new clothes or he's going to resort to looking like a hooker in tee shirts two sizes too small. Shopping at the girl's section isn't honestly that weird, but buying girl's tee shirts is a little weird. He ends up with a couple tee shirts that actually have some room in the tits, glory, glory hallelujah, and even a couple hoodies. Ugh. Tits are fucking lame and Ryan wants to get them off. Except, like, when he changes back into a dude he doesn't want to have no balls. It's a fucking conundrum.
The whole physiological thing is an issue, definitely. Ryan feels like he has had to relearn how to walk almost, with these new hips and center of gravity and GIGANTIC FUCKING TITS THAT ARE IN THE WAY ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Seriously, he never had this much issues with his cock. He has to hold himself differently too, or else his back just hurts too much. The worst part though? Suddenly he understands girls who talk about guys speaking to their chest, or feeling exposed the moment they walk outside the door. Seriously, if this is what it's like for girls, he doesn't blame them. Actually, he doesn't understand why you'd want to accentuate this shit, because all this attention -- guys staring at him like he's a prime piece of rib or something -- is making him fucking nervous.
It makes him jumpy and shit, Jesus. Like, honestly, his eyes are bout ten inches north, assholes of the world. And there's honestly nothing all that special about cleavage, it's just a line between two body parts. He sort of feels all fucking exposed and nervous, unless he's with Spencer or Zack. Especially Spencer. Spencer's tall and he'll throw a somewhat proprietary arm around Ryan's shoulders and that's usually enough to make people look the other way, or at least have a little bit of discretion.
Ryan can pretend for a moment that he has a tall, bearded boyfriend and cuddle up a little extra. Whatever makes the dicks go away or stop looking. Spencer's got a fantastically threatening glare. Because it doesn't seem to matter that the rest of Ryan is kind of androgynous, what with his short hair and still kind of boyish features, what people focus on are the tits. He kind of feels like this body would have been better suited on a girl with blonde hair and a predilection for bunny suits. The vagina is also kind of weird, and all in all, this female body is a menace and a fucking disappointment. Because touching yourself down there? Doesn't feel as good as you'd think, and his tits are big and cumbersome and not actually all that sensitive, not even the nipples. It seems like there is some special grip there that Ryan just hasn't figured out and as for the downstairs department, poking around there is mostly dry and uncomfortable, and rubbing his clit feels kind of good, but also like he needs to pee. It's just weird. Women does not cease to be a mystery just because he currently possesses the body of one.
Which is a mild disappointment, he can't lie. Especially the whole clit thing. what happened to those rumors about multiple orgasms in five minutes and all that jazz? He really wanted THAT one to be true. HE says at much to Spencer, one night when they're curled up on the couch after Brendon and Jon have gone to bed or to their bunks to do whatever it is they do before they fall asleep. Spencer looks at him and looks at him and, really, Ryan's skin is beginning to go tingly and uncomfortable, because it's not like the female body comes with an instruction manual or anything like that. Nope, just the same amount of questions he had when he was fucking the female body and not stuck inside it. Spencer leans in, shimmying closer, and Ryan's heart picks up a coupe extra beats and flood of warmth shudders through him.
"Here," Spencer says, and, hey, his fingers are totally sliding down the waistband of Ryan's boxers. And...suddenly he's not so dry anymore?
Oh, so THAT'S what it feels like to get turned on from the female side. It's not hugely different, but instead of blood pulsing to one specific point, Ryan kind of feels like he's melting. Because while his own fingers apparently lack the ability to make him feel good, Spencer is apparently made out of sunshine and magic, and Ryan always knew he was special, but dear god, he never knew Spencer's fingers could do THAT. Spencer's fingers dip down, a little inside, and something clenches inside. Ryan realizes that he really does want Spencer's fingers inside, and he's kind of disappointed when they slide up again. Not so disappointed when Spencer finds his clit and rubs, hard. DEFINITELY magic fingers. Ryan never ever managed to do that in all his tries and if Spencer could do that forever and for always, that'd be sweet.
He comes HARD, with a cry that he means to muffle through his teeth, but doesn't manage to quite stifle successfully. Like, he feels like he's dripping Spencer's fingers are rubbing so hard and so insistently. Ryan needs him to not ever stop, because this is far and away the most fantastic thing he has ever felt.
There are the same tingly aftershocks that makes the muscles in his stomach and thighs spasm a little, but the new part is the clenching that still going on. Because instead of being completely wiped, Ryan kind of wants something inside him to clench around. Spencer still has his hand down Ryan's boxers, fingers resting, and his eyes are blown and there is a quite noticeable tenting in his pants. All in all, he looks good enough to eat and while Ryan has entertained thoughts of Spencer naked once or twice or fifteen times, he has never felt like THIS, this diffuse wanting, longing almost. He wants Spencer to go on, and he wants him to stop because he's too sensitive, and Spencer's fingers are just resting there, sometimes carding through the hair a little, like a reminder.
Ryan's used to coming and feeling completely sated, like all that matters in the world is slipping into hazy sleep. This is different. He feels more awake now, thrumming with energy and want and need and whole crashing mess of emotions that Spencer's insinuating hand only intensifies. Ryan's always been sort of peripherally interested in cock and, for all that he's well aware he can be a dick when it comes to relationships, he's also one of those people genuinely more attracted to personality than anything else. (IE: Pete, but that's a whole different bit of psychological fuckery about similarly broken people). This is different. This is want that starts in those clenching muscles low down in his belly and radiates outwards along his nerves. Spencer's dick is very obvious hard in his pants and Ryan wants very much to lie back and have Spencer fuck him hard.
He wonders if Spencer would do it, if Ryan asked prettily enough would he spread Ryan out on the couch and fuck him through next week and beyond. He wonders what he would have to say to actually make it happen. He's still a little sweaty, and his muscles are all weak and stupid, but he reaches out and touches Spencer's cheek. The beard is roughsoft under his fingertips, and he really wants Spencer to kiss him, right the fuck now. Spencer leans into the touch with a tiny, tiny sigh and that, more than anything else, is what makes Ryan rear up and plant a clumsy kiss on Spencer's bitten lips. It's stupid and off-center and sloppy, but Ryan wants to do it again almost immediately.
This is beyond strange, but heady and wonderful in the same moment. Ryan remembers them being fourteen and stupid, jerking each other off sitting with their backs pressed against the wall, not meeting each others' eyes. It's like that, almost, but so infinitely much more. Neither of them are fumbling virgins anymore, for one thing, and they're both shivering with what Ryan really fucking hopes is mutual want. Spencer's mouth is soft and shiny, which is kind of silly, but he's got his hand still curved around Ryan's still strange girl bits.
Ryan really, really wants them both naked. And Spencer kisses back, is the thing, he kisses back, and Ryan will have beard burn, but he doesn't even care and it's amazing. Because this Spencer, 21 years old and hotter than he has any right to be, knows how to kiss. Ryan bites Spencer's lip and sucks on his tongue and wants, more than anything he wants. If he's honest, it scares him a little too, what he wants Spencer to do, because while he's definitely no virgin as a boy, his equipment hasn't actually been used that way as a girl, and it's a little frightening, but also a lot exciting. And then Spencer's hand slides down again, stroking over Ryan's clit again, and Ryan moans into Spencer's mouth. It's too much and just right at the same time and Ryan spreads his legs, because he wants more.
Ryan's sitting on the couch in a pair of his old boxers that still fit and one of his new tee shirts without the bra on underneath. He can see the peak of his nipples through the thin fabric and he wants very much to find out what Spencer's mouth rough against them would feel like. His hips are starting to pulse a little, flexing up a small space up from the couch and Spencer's eyes look blown and wanting.
"Ryan," he says, softly under his breath and, honestly, if Ryan is never going to fuck anyone else as a girl, he really fucking needs that one person to be Spencer.
Ryan wants to climb him like a goddamn tree, and it isn't exactly a new feeling as such -- there has maybe been times when he's wanted to do something similar in the past, occasionally -- but it's a lot more intense than anything from before.
"Spence," he tries to say when the pad of Spencer's finger slides against him again, slick and rough at the same time, and oh, so fucking good. What comes out is a whimper, and a "please". And Spencer fucking shocked the pants off Ryan -- almost literally -- when he got his hand down there, so it's clearly Ryan's turn to return the favor.
Somehow Ryan's boxers end up on the floor and, a moment later, Spencer's sweatpants join them. The bus is quiet, except for the quiet rumble of the bus's tires on the road and the wind rushing around them. Every now and then, when the driver switches gears, there will be a grumble, but that's it. Ryan eases back until his head rests on the arm of the couch and his shoulders and settled comfortable on the cushions. It takes more than a little shifting and, with anyone else, it would be so fucking awkward, but it's Spencer and it's not. Spencer's dick is hard and flushes, curved up along his hip, and, Jesus fucking Christ, their hips are pressed together and Spencer's fucking dick is teasing against the line of his cunt and rubbing up against his clit. The sensation is very nearly too much, so soon after having just come, but all he can think is how badly they need to go from this teasing shit to fucking.
He slides one of his legs up Spencer's hip, holding him there, and rubs up against him. Spencer drops his head forwards then, against Ryan's collarbone, as his hips twitch against Ryan and it's too awesome for words.
"Please," Ryan says again, quietly and Spencer looks up. Their eyes lock and then. Then. Oh, Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the camel, then Spencer is there and he's pushing inside and it's too tight and too much and it actually, actually feels good and Ryan feels like he's going to pop. It's good and not at the same time, that deep, clenching ache stilled, but the more immediate pain of him stretching around Spencer has taken its place, and despite all that, Ryan wants more, wants him deeper inside, wants him to never stop.
It's a strange clash of experience and expectation and sensation. On the one hand, it's undeniably really fucking strange to have a dick pushing into him. It's completely alien and bordering on too much, too different from what he's used to and what he knows. But. But. There's some about the slow stretched and the sense of being filled that has heat bursting through his body and exploding behind his eyelids. His hips come up off the bed, searching for an even deeper push inside and Spencer obliges, coming down to meet him with a faint slap of skin.
Ryan wraps his legs around Spencer's waist -- something about these hips and legs and joints makes that a little easier than usual -- and takes a deep breath. Spencer's eyes are still meeting his, and Spencer looks wrecked, eyes blown. "Okay?" he whispers and Ryan nods jerkily, because oh, god, yes, is he ever. He clenches down experimentally, and it feels so incredibly different and alien, this hard, hot thing inside him, and Spencer moans above him. Then Spencer moves and there is a slow rough drag on Ryan's insides, burning all the way out and in again, and if this gets any more awesomely weird, Ryan doesn't know what he'll do with himself.
The funny thing is, penetration is fucking ridiculous and insane and wonderful, but it's not nearly as immediate as Spencer's thumb pressing hard against his clit was. Which, okay, that's going to count as one of those myths he never knew whether to believe or not as being actually true, girls don't have an easy time getting off on just straight fucking. "Can you," Ryan says and comes out a little breathier and more desperate than he would have expected, because the drag against the deepest parts of him is still incredible. "Your hand. Please. Jesus."
Spencer actually chuckles, but even that is awesome, deep and dark and somehow masculine and it makes Ryan all tingly in stupid ways again, and then Spencer moves his hand down and rubs. The angle is the awkwardest fucking thing in the history of man, but it's still so fucking good Ryan could cry. He can't help but to whine, deep in his throat, move his hips against Spencer's, against Spencer's fingers, and he has no idea how Spencer still keeps a rhythm going, but he blames Spencer's amazing fucking drummer-fu for that. Ryan is mostly busy with feeling like he's melting from his cunt on up.
Spencer's rhythm eventually becomes more and more erratic and his breath comes in hard, gasping pants. Ryan knows what's going to happen, because God knows he's heard Spencer jerk off enough times in the years we've been friends, but it still catches him off guard when Spencer's entire body snaps taunt and he comes buried deep inside Ryan.
He never really thought it'd feel much of anything, being on the receiving end, but it's different and kind of amazing, and now he gets to see it from up close. Spencer's hands are going useless, but as soon as he catches his breath he looks up, sweaty and flushed and kisses Ryan carefully, even as he rubs hard. Ryan comes -- again -- on a shout.
Linn: And then Ryan is going to get all, "but what if he doesn't like me as a boy, woe"
Aly: OM NOM NOM NOM. "SPENCER, SPENCER, WILL YOU STILL LIKE MY DICK? D: BRENDON, WHAT IF HE DOESN'T LIKE MY DICK." "Well, if how much he likes your tits is any indication of how much he's going to like your balls, I'm pretty sure you'll be okay."
Linn: BRENDON IS FREAKED OUT BY THE TITTIES. HE LIKED RYAN'S COCK MUCH BETTER.
Linn: BUT HE'S NOT GAY
Linn: HE WISHES YOU COULD MEET HIS GIRLFRIEND WHO LIVES IN CANADA
Aly: HER NAME IS ALBERTA. SHE LIVES IN VANCOUVER. SHE COOKS LIKES HIS MOTHER AND SUCKS LIKE A HOOVER
Linn: SHIT HER NAME IS ALBERTA SHE LIVES IN VANCOUVER SHE IS HIS GIRLFRIEND, HIS WONDERFUL GIRLFRIEND WHO LIVES IN CANADA. AND HE CAN'T WAIT TO EAT HER PUSSY AGAIN
Aly: "...okay? Bren, the last time we were in Canada was, like, eight months ago?"
Linn: Curses, they saw through his clever scheme. Foiled again!
Aly: Foiled, foiled, foiled!
Linn: Dangit. And meanwhile, Ryan's got tits and a pussy and Spencer is spending a lot of time enjoying that. Ryan especially enjoyed it when Spence ate him out.
Aly: That was aaaaaaaaaawesome. Ryan has never been so loud during sex in his LIFE.
Linn: Of course, Jon and Brendon are a little weirded out by that
Aly: Whatever, Ryan doesn't even care. "Shit, do you KNOW what it feels like to have someone's TONGUE curling around your cunt? No? Then shut the fuck up."
Linn: And Brendon grumbles that he's still go a better ass than Ryan does, girl or not.
Aly: "You're just jealous I'm getting some. How's that celibacy shit working out for you?"
Linn: And Brendon mutters something about finding the right girl and Ryan laughs until he chokes.
Aly: "One with a dick?"
Linn: At which point Brendon stomps away, and seriously he should get a girlfriend just to annoy Ryan if it weren't for the fact that vaginas kind of gross him out.
Aly: Boobs are okay and girls in and of themselves are just fine. Vaginas are gross. And gaping.
Linn: Brendon has watched entirely too much bad porn with his friends, for real.
Aly: Seriously. Poor, Brendon.
Linn: He needs more cock applied to his body in various debauched manners.
Aly: Cock will solve most problems, I feel.