All of my desires waiting for someone to hold, so come to me
Title: All of my desires waiting for someone to hold, so come to me.
Pairing: Ryan Ross/William Becket
Rating: R
Summary: Ryan can’t find inspiration in truckstops and statelines, but he can find it in William.
Disclaimer: Don’t know them, don’t own them, don’t believe a word I say.
Thanks: To darkseaglass for the beta, even when she has no idea who these guys are.
(repost)
For inspiration.
When Ryan first started writing lyrics, he kept them on random pages of his school notebooks. Margins filled up and spilled over onto algebra until he gave up on the math altogether. Since then he’s always kept a trusty spiral notebook, folded in half and tucked in his back pocket when he can manage, on hand. The guys know not to bother him when it’s out, except to occasionally rub his shoulders encouragingly when his brow furrows in frustration. But sometimes even that wore thin. Luckily, buses were pretty arbitrary on this tour, and there were more than enough bunks to go around with a little shuffling, so Ryan ended up with the Academy guys a lot.
They were great guys, really great guys, despite some tension when they first started out, the same bullshit about dues from a few of the guys that they’ve been getting from everybody. They got over it, everybody did. Now things were cool, Ryan only felt left out when they started to drink and get a little crazy. They were funny to watch, though, and nobody pressured him to join in, but he knew he was missing something without the buzz. The lazy vowels or the casually draped arms, something. He could hear it in their laughter most, fluid and lyrical while his was short and tense. But it was okay, because he wasn’t going down that road yet. At least not until he had a second hit record, and then all bets were off.
Eventually they guys would flee the bus for a bar, and Ryan would spread out on the kitchen table -- as much spreading out as the tiny table allowed, at least - and write. Most of it was shit, and sometimes he could salvage a line or two, but overall he wasn’t getting much. After a while he’d climb into bed and fall asleep until he woke up to the bus moving under him, on the way to a new town.
Some nights William stayed with him, writing sprawled out on the couch or across the table. They didn’t usually talk much, although it wasn’t for lack of things to say.
Tonight, though, Ryan felt something was off from the moment he stepped on the Academy bus. William was oscillating between supremely hyper and mute-like silence. First he had Butcher in a headlock, then he collapsed on the couch with a pillow over his head and refused to talk to anyone. After about fifteen minutes the other guys shouted their farewells and stomped off the bus with the grace of a herd of elephants. William disappeared to the bunks and Ryan knocked a few empty beer cans off the table and got to work. He forget Willam was even still on the bus until William sitting down beside him, jostling him out of his writing trance.
“Scoot a little, you don’t mind, right?”
“Uh, no. Sure, whatever.”
“Promise I won’t steal any of your brilliant ideas,” William said, with a grin, and Ryan could swear his eyes twinkled. William was odd. Ryan just shrugged and went back to his writing.
Or tried to. Ryan had to admit it was pretty fucking impossible not to notice William was beautiful. Delicate, really pretty. Hell, Ryan had even heard some of the burly security guys commenting on William’s mouth in way that didn’t sound entirely straight to Ryan. He tried to ignore what they said about him, too, when they thought he wasn’t listening.
And so, yeah, maybe one or twice Ryan had, on long hauls across really boring countryside, let his mind drift away from exgirlfriends and porn stars and thought about his tongue on William’s hips, about the stretch of his lips around William’s cock. Proximity, familiarity, sometimes you just wanted that instead of a thousand anonymous girls ready and willing each night. Or something, whatever Ryan could convince himself between the rush of his orgasm and drifting to sleep.
Only it was much more difficult to convince himself of that with William’s shoulder pressed flush against his, when he could hear the soft wheezing of William’s breath as he wrote. Ryan knew this could get embarrassing quickly, but there was nowhere to go without moving William and making it painfully obvious, so when William sighed and stretched back in his seat, Ryan felt every muscle go tense in his body.
“Doesn’t it just drive you crazy?”
Ryan willed himself to stay calm. “What, touring?”
“Yeah. Well, no. I mean the writing, but also the touring. Like, what the fuck am I writing a song about right now, you know?” William picked up the sheet he had been working on, crumpled it, one handed, and chucked it across the bus at a pile of clothes.
“I get it, yeah. Inspiration doesn’t really come in clubs that all look the same and bus rides.”
“Exactly, dude, exactly!” William beamed and grabbed Ryan’s thigh, squeezing. Ryan knew his face must have tensed up, but not for the reason William probably assumed.
“Oh shit, sorry. I’m not trying to pick you up, seriously.” William pulled his hands back and held them, palms out, above the table, and laughed a little nervously.
“No, no, I mean, it’s totally fine, I, uh, I.” Ryan didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he just clutched the edge of the table and willed the blush to go away.
William cocked his head and Ryan swore, swore that his eyes twinkled again. Then he was getting closer, his other hand soft against Ryan’s chin. “Man, tell me to stop if I’m wrong.”
Ryan didn’t, of course, instead titled his face into William’s palm and used tongue. This was different from the other times Ryan had kissed boys. Less playful, more intent, like all of William was focused on him, of the slide of their lips together, of their bodies angling uncomfortably.
William pulled back and bit his lower lip. “Yeah, okay. There’s really no room here, let’s...” And then he was standing and tugging on the drawstring of Ryan’s hoodie.
“Hey, don’t mess it up.” Ryan slid-stumbled out of the booth and laughed. William arched his eyebrows and then turned and headed to the back, toeing off his shoes and climbing into this bunk. Ryan paused, palms flat against the wall. William reached out and pinched his side.
“Seriously, you tell me if I’m wrong. It’s cool, it’s just for fun.”
Ryan swallowed and ducked down into the bunk. They really weren’t meant for two, and even with William backed up against the wall, Ryan was afraid he was going to go tumbling out
Kissing was easy, though now William couldn’t miss how Ryan was really feeling about all this. Luckily, the feeling was mutual. That was nice about guys, Ryan was finding. No guessing games if this felt good or he was doing it right. Not that he was doing much of anything except grinding their hips together and panting in William’s ear, fingers tangled up in clothes.
“Let me, okay?” William asked. Then, without waiting for a response, he was snaking down Ryan’s body, leaving Ryan to stare at the wall and try to stop thinking about why he was doing this.
It didn’t take long after that, not with the actual feeling of Williams wet, wet mouth and strong tongue mixed with Ryan’s fantasy. Just the idea of doing this back to him, later, maybe, hopefully, was enough to push Ryan over the edge. William pulled away, didn’t swallow, and came back up close enough that Ryan could bat his hands away and return the favor, fingers squeezing to fight off the shakes, but not too hard, just right, until William was mumbling his name and pulsing hot against his waist.
Ryan lay there panting after, with William draped over his side. They were still effectively dressed, if messy. Ryan usually was the type to fall asleep right after, and William’s breathing seemed to be evening out. The bus had to get moving soon, the guys would be back, and Ryan was lying in William’s bed, sticky.
He rolled away and slid out to the corridor. William made a sleepy, confused sound. “Not enough room to sleep comfortably.”
William yawned and then shifted around. “Cool, man, whatever. We’re cool. Thanks, okay.”
Ryan pushed the hair off his forehead and exhaled. All his lyrics were a scattered mess “Yeah, thanks. See you.” Carefully he crept to the lounge, afraid at any moment the guys would come back and catch him. He grabbed his notebook and a pen, and headed back to the bunks. This was something to write about, at least. Ryan thought he was being quiet, or that William was asleep, but as he started to write he heard a laugh from below him and a thump on the bottom of his bunk.
“Make sure I’m a single, okay?”
Ryan laughed back and thought, maybe a whole album.
Pairing: Ryan Ross/William Becket
Rating: R
Summary: Ryan can’t find inspiration in truckstops and statelines, but he can find it in William.
Disclaimer: Don’t know them, don’t own them, don’t believe a word I say.
Thanks: To darkseaglass for the beta, even when she has no idea who these guys are.
(repost)
For inspiration.
When Ryan first started writing lyrics, he kept them on random pages of his school notebooks. Margins filled up and spilled over onto algebra until he gave up on the math altogether. Since then he’s always kept a trusty spiral notebook, folded in half and tucked in his back pocket when he can manage, on hand. The guys know not to bother him when it’s out, except to occasionally rub his shoulders encouragingly when his brow furrows in frustration. But sometimes even that wore thin. Luckily, buses were pretty arbitrary on this tour, and there were more than enough bunks to go around with a little shuffling, so Ryan ended up with the Academy guys a lot.
They were great guys, really great guys, despite some tension when they first started out, the same bullshit about dues from a few of the guys that they’ve been getting from everybody. They got over it, everybody did. Now things were cool, Ryan only felt left out when they started to drink and get a little crazy. They were funny to watch, though, and nobody pressured him to join in, but he knew he was missing something without the buzz. The lazy vowels or the casually draped arms, something. He could hear it in their laughter most, fluid and lyrical while his was short and tense. But it was okay, because he wasn’t going down that road yet. At least not until he had a second hit record, and then all bets were off.
Eventually they guys would flee the bus for a bar, and Ryan would spread out on the kitchen table -- as much spreading out as the tiny table allowed, at least - and write. Most of it was shit, and sometimes he could salvage a line or two, but overall he wasn’t getting much. After a while he’d climb into bed and fall asleep until he woke up to the bus moving under him, on the way to a new town.
Some nights William stayed with him, writing sprawled out on the couch or across the table. They didn’t usually talk much, although it wasn’t for lack of things to say.
Tonight, though, Ryan felt something was off from the moment he stepped on the Academy bus. William was oscillating between supremely hyper and mute-like silence. First he had Butcher in a headlock, then he collapsed on the couch with a pillow over his head and refused to talk to anyone. After about fifteen minutes the other guys shouted their farewells and stomped off the bus with the grace of a herd of elephants. William disappeared to the bunks and Ryan knocked a few empty beer cans off the table and got to work. He forget Willam was even still on the bus until William sitting down beside him, jostling him out of his writing trance.
“Scoot a little, you don’t mind, right?”
“Uh, no. Sure, whatever.”
“Promise I won’t steal any of your brilliant ideas,” William said, with a grin, and Ryan could swear his eyes twinkled. William was odd. Ryan just shrugged and went back to his writing.
Or tried to. Ryan had to admit it was pretty fucking impossible not to notice William was beautiful. Delicate, really pretty. Hell, Ryan had even heard some of the burly security guys commenting on William’s mouth in way that didn’t sound entirely straight to Ryan. He tried to ignore what they said about him, too, when they thought he wasn’t listening.
And so, yeah, maybe one or twice Ryan had, on long hauls across really boring countryside, let his mind drift away from exgirlfriends and porn stars and thought about his tongue on William’s hips, about the stretch of his lips around William’s cock. Proximity, familiarity, sometimes you just wanted that instead of a thousand anonymous girls ready and willing each night. Or something, whatever Ryan could convince himself between the rush of his orgasm and drifting to sleep.
Only it was much more difficult to convince himself of that with William’s shoulder pressed flush against his, when he could hear the soft wheezing of William’s breath as he wrote. Ryan knew this could get embarrassing quickly, but there was nowhere to go without moving William and making it painfully obvious, so when William sighed and stretched back in his seat, Ryan felt every muscle go tense in his body.
“Doesn’t it just drive you crazy?”
Ryan willed himself to stay calm. “What, touring?”
“Yeah. Well, no. I mean the writing, but also the touring. Like, what the fuck am I writing a song about right now, you know?” William picked up the sheet he had been working on, crumpled it, one handed, and chucked it across the bus at a pile of clothes.
“I get it, yeah. Inspiration doesn’t really come in clubs that all look the same and bus rides.”
“Exactly, dude, exactly!” William beamed and grabbed Ryan’s thigh, squeezing. Ryan knew his face must have tensed up, but not for the reason William probably assumed.
“Oh shit, sorry. I’m not trying to pick you up, seriously.” William pulled his hands back and held them, palms out, above the table, and laughed a little nervously.
“No, no, I mean, it’s totally fine, I, uh, I.” Ryan didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he just clutched the edge of the table and willed the blush to go away.
William cocked his head and Ryan swore, swore that his eyes twinkled again. Then he was getting closer, his other hand soft against Ryan’s chin. “Man, tell me to stop if I’m wrong.”
Ryan didn’t, of course, instead titled his face into William’s palm and used tongue. This was different from the other times Ryan had kissed boys. Less playful, more intent, like all of William was focused on him, of the slide of their lips together, of their bodies angling uncomfortably.
William pulled back and bit his lower lip. “Yeah, okay. There’s really no room here, let’s...” And then he was standing and tugging on the drawstring of Ryan’s hoodie.
“Hey, don’t mess it up.” Ryan slid-stumbled out of the booth and laughed. William arched his eyebrows and then turned and headed to the back, toeing off his shoes and climbing into this bunk. Ryan paused, palms flat against the wall. William reached out and pinched his side.
“Seriously, you tell me if I’m wrong. It’s cool, it’s just for fun.”
Ryan swallowed and ducked down into the bunk. They really weren’t meant for two, and even with William backed up against the wall, Ryan was afraid he was going to go tumbling out
Kissing was easy, though now William couldn’t miss how Ryan was really feeling about all this. Luckily, the feeling was mutual. That was nice about guys, Ryan was finding. No guessing games if this felt good or he was doing it right. Not that he was doing much of anything except grinding their hips together and panting in William’s ear, fingers tangled up in clothes.
“Let me, okay?” William asked. Then, without waiting for a response, he was snaking down Ryan’s body, leaving Ryan to stare at the wall and try to stop thinking about why he was doing this.
It didn’t take long after that, not with the actual feeling of Williams wet, wet mouth and strong tongue mixed with Ryan’s fantasy. Just the idea of doing this back to him, later, maybe, hopefully, was enough to push Ryan over the edge. William pulled away, didn’t swallow, and came back up close enough that Ryan could bat his hands away and return the favor, fingers squeezing to fight off the shakes, but not too hard, just right, until William was mumbling his name and pulsing hot against his waist.
Ryan lay there panting after, with William draped over his side. They were still effectively dressed, if messy. Ryan usually was the type to fall asleep right after, and William’s breathing seemed to be evening out. The bus had to get moving soon, the guys would be back, and Ryan was lying in William’s bed, sticky.
He rolled away and slid out to the corridor. William made a sleepy, confused sound. “Not enough room to sleep comfortably.”
William yawned and then shifted around. “Cool, man, whatever. We’re cool. Thanks, okay.”
Ryan pushed the hair off his forehead and exhaled. All his lyrics were a scattered mess “Yeah, thanks. See you.” Carefully he crept to the lounge, afraid at any moment the guys would come back and catch him. He grabbed his notebook and a pen, and headed back to the bunks. This was something to write about, at least. Ryan thought he was being quiet, or that William was asleep, but as he started to write he heard a laugh from below him and a thump on the bottom of his bunk.
“Make sure I’m a single, okay?”
Ryan laughed back and thought, maybe a whole album.