That Scary Feeling - Bandom (Panic!), NC-17, Brendon.
Title: That Scary Feeling
Fandom: Bandom (Panic! at the Disco)
Rating: NC-17.
Length: ~1100 words.
Characters/Pairings: Brendon, with Ryan and Spencer.
Disclaimer: I'm going to go with "me playing with fictional dolls in my head" again. (My Barbie adventures as a kid were possibly more out-there, believe it or not.)
Content notes: ( skip) Contains a character mulling (non-graphically) what might happen if he had to get his arm amputated. Also, Brendon doesn't do any research on circulation, so this probably isn't something you should try without reading up on it first.
Summary: Still, getting off on his arm falling asleep? At least anal was something people talked about.
Notes: Written for the wildcard space on my
kink_bingo card. (I went with the "bodies/body parts" kink.) It's based on a tweet (screencap) from Brendon that reads: "I may be the only sick bastard that loves that scary feeling when you wake up and can't feel your arm because you slept on it all night." This was where my brain went.
Also on AO3 and DW.
That Scary Feeling
Brendon was an adult. Or on the band's first tour, which was close enough. He got beer and weed and hook-ups after concerts, and he was basically doing all the debauched things his parents were probably sitting up at night worrying about. He couldn't have picked a better life path.
So he figured he'd done it all. He'd even had girls let him put it...okay, like Ryan always said, he should be able to think it if he was doing it. He was doing anal with girls, and that hadn't even been on his radar before he'd met Pete. Touring was like a practical lesson in female anatomy and sex-ed.
Still, getting off on his arm falling asleep? At least anal was something people talked about.
It wasn't like he hadn't woken up with an arm lacking sensation before. Judging by the way the other guys rubbed their arms or legs at breakfast sometimes, it happened to everyone. Brendon had a feeling people on tour did it more than average because bunks weren't full-sized beds; he himself tended to squeeze in weird positions more on buses than at home. He'd jam his right arm against the wall in his sleep, and he'd wake up without feeling it for a while. No big deal. It always came back.
He also wasn't the only guy to wake up with an erection. "Morning wood" was a term for a reason. But it wasn't until he woke up one morning with the bus rumbling around him and his arm couldn't feel the vibrations that he remembered those stories about people losing circulation and needing to get their limbs taken off. It would be impossible to play without his right arm. His stomach curled; Ryan would kill him if he was armless. His mouth went dry, and...
...and he was hard as a rock.
Brendon paused halfway into sitting up. He pushed the skin on his arm, and it felt like a stranger's arm. He got a little thrill of fear again, and his dick twitched.
Wow.
Before he could reach into his pajama pants, Ryan threw the curtain open and frowned down his nose at Brendon. "We're stopping for breakfast in five minutes, so you'd better be awake."
Brendon flopped his tingling arm in Ryan's direction, and Ryan rolled his eyes and walked away. Brendon laid back down and waited for the feeling to come back. He grinned and wriggled a little every time the weird pulsing feeling shot down his arm.
Maybe it wasn't anal, but it was definitely something.
-
He forgot about it for a while. Practical sex-ed wouldn't complete itself, after all. But there were hotel nights - which, in some weird reverse band law, meant he tried to sleep instead of banging his brains out - and a couple where he wasn't even sharing with Spencer. They had very specific jerk-off protocols, and they consisted of "do it in the bathroom either when the TV's on or when the other guy's asleep". Spencer was big on boundaries. It was annoying sometimes, but Ryan and Brent had none whatsoever, so Brendon could roll with it.
One solo night, while he and Spencer are watching Anchorman in Spencer's room, Brendon propped his head on his hand and his arm on his elbow, and as the minutes passed, he lost feelings in his fingers. His girl jeans were just a little too tight for the boner that resulted, so he coughed after a few minutes and said he was tired.
Spencer, being awesome, just said, "I love lamp" and went back to eating his Cheetos.
Brendon's room was small and smelly and he couldn't care less about any of it as he peeled off his clothes and took a running leap for the bed. He bounced so high he nearly went flying, which meant he was just as awesome at mattress leaping as he always was. It was important to check occasionally.
As he settled onto the bed, he tucked his arm under his torso.
How long was too long to cut off the circulation? He wasn't sure. It wasn't the kind of thing he could text Pete about, even if Pete emailed him all kinds of weird jokes and gross pictures. Well, okay, he could email him if he wanted to get questions about it, and a Wentz grilling was not like any other kind of grilling. He had legions at his disposal. Brendon would rather those work in his favor, thanks.
Just mulling had given him enough time to get a numb arm, and as he rolled on his back and ran his finger over the start of comforter-caused creases in his skin, he shivered. It really was like touching a stranger. And putting his numb hand on his dick, even if his aim was a little off, was just like someone else grabbing it, someone with hands his size and the knowledge of how to play with the head and keep the whole thing loose enough to draw it out.
Brendon thanked his Mormon upbringing for giving him great jerk-off know-how and started fucking into his fist. Fuck, it was amazing, the calluses on his hand, the way he could adjust the grip without it feeling like he was doing it.
But it wasn't until his arm started to regain feeling, when the nerves in his arms started to pulse like Pop Rocks and ache just a little bit, that Brendon really started to clench his teeth and grunt. He was the exact opposite of a virgin, but still, he'd somehow never found anything that turned him on quite this much, that had made his cock drip with precome and his balls clench, and...and...
And he came squeezing his eyes shut, the world white around him, his arm still tingling.
After he came down, panting and sweating like he was running under stage lights, he realized even the orgasm was different. His usual involved jizzing and a few convulsions, but this time, he was still shaking a little nearly five minutes after the actual big moment. Just brushing a random patch of skin against the bed was enough to make him shiver again, but moving his arm off and making it ache more made him think he could get hard again.
Sure enough, while the last of the tingles were disappearing, Brendon's dick was starting to stir again.
"Damn," he said admiringly.
He grinned and rolled over to get his lube from the nightstand. He could tell he had a very long, very awesome night ahead of him. Better to be prepared.
Fandom: Bandom (Panic! at the Disco)
Rating: NC-17.
Length: ~1100 words.
Characters/Pairings: Brendon, with Ryan and Spencer.
Disclaimer: I'm going to go with "me playing with fictional dolls in my head" again. (My Barbie adventures as a kid were possibly more out-there, believe it or not.)
Content notes: ( skip) Contains a character mulling (non-graphically) what might happen if he had to get his arm amputated. Also, Brendon doesn't do any research on circulation, so this probably isn't something you should try without reading up on it first.
Summary: Still, getting off on his arm falling asleep? At least anal was something people talked about.
Notes: Written for the wildcard space on my
kink_bingo card. (I went with the "bodies/body parts" kink.) It's based on a tweet (screencap) from Brendon that reads: "I may be the only sick bastard that loves that scary feeling when you wake up and can't feel your arm because you slept on it all night." This was where my brain went.
Also on AO3 and DW.
That Scary Feeling
Brendon was an adult. Or on the band's first tour, which was close enough. He got beer and weed and hook-ups after concerts, and he was basically doing all the debauched things his parents were probably sitting up at night worrying about. He couldn't have picked a better life path.
So he figured he'd done it all. He'd even had girls let him put it...okay, like Ryan always said, he should be able to think it if he was doing it. He was doing anal with girls, and that hadn't even been on his radar before he'd met Pete. Touring was like a practical lesson in female anatomy and sex-ed.
Still, getting off on his arm falling asleep? At least anal was something people talked about.
It wasn't like he hadn't woken up with an arm lacking sensation before. Judging by the way the other guys rubbed their arms or legs at breakfast sometimes, it happened to everyone. Brendon had a feeling people on tour did it more than average because bunks weren't full-sized beds; he himself tended to squeeze in weird positions more on buses than at home. He'd jam his right arm against the wall in his sleep, and he'd wake up without feeling it for a while. No big deal. It always came back.
He also wasn't the only guy to wake up with an erection. "Morning wood" was a term for a reason. But it wasn't until he woke up one morning with the bus rumbling around him and his arm couldn't feel the vibrations that he remembered those stories about people losing circulation and needing to get their limbs taken off. It would be impossible to play without his right arm. His stomach curled; Ryan would kill him if he was armless. His mouth went dry, and...
...and he was hard as a rock.
Brendon paused halfway into sitting up. He pushed the skin on his arm, and it felt like a stranger's arm. He got a little thrill of fear again, and his dick twitched.
Wow.
Before he could reach into his pajama pants, Ryan threw the curtain open and frowned down his nose at Brendon. "We're stopping for breakfast in five minutes, so you'd better be awake."
Brendon flopped his tingling arm in Ryan's direction, and Ryan rolled his eyes and walked away. Brendon laid back down and waited for the feeling to come back. He grinned and wriggled a little every time the weird pulsing feeling shot down his arm.
Maybe it wasn't anal, but it was definitely something.
-
He forgot about it for a while. Practical sex-ed wouldn't complete itself, after all. But there were hotel nights - which, in some weird reverse band law, meant he tried to sleep instead of banging his brains out - and a couple where he wasn't even sharing with Spencer. They had very specific jerk-off protocols, and they consisted of "do it in the bathroom either when the TV's on or when the other guy's asleep". Spencer was big on boundaries. It was annoying sometimes, but Ryan and Brent had none whatsoever, so Brendon could roll with it.
One solo night, while he and Spencer are watching Anchorman in Spencer's room, Brendon propped his head on his hand and his arm on his elbow, and as the minutes passed, he lost feelings in his fingers. His girl jeans were just a little too tight for the boner that resulted, so he coughed after a few minutes and said he was tired.
Spencer, being awesome, just said, "I love lamp" and went back to eating his Cheetos.
Brendon's room was small and smelly and he couldn't care less about any of it as he peeled off his clothes and took a running leap for the bed. He bounced so high he nearly went flying, which meant he was just as awesome at mattress leaping as he always was. It was important to check occasionally.
As he settled onto the bed, he tucked his arm under his torso.
How long was too long to cut off the circulation? He wasn't sure. It wasn't the kind of thing he could text Pete about, even if Pete emailed him all kinds of weird jokes and gross pictures. Well, okay, he could email him if he wanted to get questions about it, and a Wentz grilling was not like any other kind of grilling. He had legions at his disposal. Brendon would rather those work in his favor, thanks.
Just mulling had given him enough time to get a numb arm, and as he rolled on his back and ran his finger over the start of comforter-caused creases in his skin, he shivered. It really was like touching a stranger. And putting his numb hand on his dick, even if his aim was a little off, was just like someone else grabbing it, someone with hands his size and the knowledge of how to play with the head and keep the whole thing loose enough to draw it out.
Brendon thanked his Mormon upbringing for giving him great jerk-off know-how and started fucking into his fist. Fuck, it was amazing, the calluses on his hand, the way he could adjust the grip without it feeling like he was doing it.
But it wasn't until his arm started to regain feeling, when the nerves in his arms started to pulse like Pop Rocks and ache just a little bit, that Brendon really started to clench his teeth and grunt. He was the exact opposite of a virgin, but still, he'd somehow never found anything that turned him on quite this much, that had made his cock drip with precome and his balls clench, and...and...
And he came squeezing his eyes shut, the world white around him, his arm still tingling.
After he came down, panting and sweating like he was running under stage lights, he realized even the orgasm was different. His usual involved jizzing and a few convulsions, but this time, he was still shaking a little nearly five minutes after the actual big moment. Just brushing a random patch of skin against the bed was enough to make him shiver again, but moving his arm off and making it ache more made him think he could get hard again.
Sure enough, while the last of the tingles were disappearing, Brendon's dick was starting to stir again.
"Damn," he said admiringly.
He grinned and rolled over to get his lube from the nightstand. He could tell he had a very long, very awesome night ahead of him. Better to be prepared.