Cold light of morning | Brendon/Ryan | NC-17 |
Cold light of morning
Brendon/Ryan | NC-17 | ~ 4000 words |
Brendon wakes to Ryan's hand stroking softly across his stomach.
For theaerosolkid. Telis and I were talking about how awesome Spencer/Brendon is and how fabulous genderswaps are (okay, maybe not exactly, but that's how I like to remember the conversation) and I said, dude, you should write some of that. And she said, only if you write me Brendon/Ryan. Fluffy Brendon/Ryan. And I said, do you want to kill me here, woman? But, she dangled Spencer/Brendon genderswap in front of me and it wasn't like there was any chance that I could say no anyway.
Thanks so much to notshybutsly and provetheworst for betaing! <3
Brendon wakes to Ryan's hand stroking softly across his stomach.
"Whazzit?" he mumbles, struggling to regain consciousness.
Ryan just sits on the bed quietly, letting Brendon slowly blink himself awake. He dips his hand under the hem of Brendon's t-shirt and fans out his fingers. Brendon's a little bit ticklish normally, but he's still relaxed so Ryan's fingers just feel warm.
He rubs across his eyes with his fist, wiping the sleep away. "Hi," he croaks, squinting at Ryan. He reaches clumsily to the bedside table, until Ryan leans over and passes his glasses to him with his free hand.
"Hi," Ryan says. He slides his hand further up Brendon's stomach until his fingers curve along the ridge of Brendon's ribcage. Brendon can feel the weight of his touch every time he takes a breath.
"'s dark still. Time's it?" Brendon asks.
"It's early," Ryan whispers. "You can go back to sleep if you want, but there's something I was hoping to show you."
" 'm awake," Brendon slurs. "Wha's it?"
Ryan's still mostly indistinguishable from the shadows, but Brendon thinks that maybe he smiles.
"What?"
Ryan leans down slowly and Brendon has time to push off the pillow and tilt his chin so that he meets Ryan's mouth easily. Ryan kisses him, soft and languid, until Brendon can feel it in his toes.
Ryan's still sitting on the side of the bed, spine curved sharply to reach Brendon's mouth. Brendon feels pinned to the bed by Ryan's hand stretched across his ribs, even though Ryan's barely pressing down. His thumb is working in slow circles and he's brushing Brendon's nipple with each pass. Brendon's pretty sure that he's been hard the whole time Ryan's been here, since before Ryan woke him up even, but it's only now that he notices it.
The pressure created between their mouths is hardly anything, and the kiss breaks easily when Brendon nudges his head to the side. "Was this a bootie call?" he whispers to Ryan.
"No," Ryan says, and this close, Brendon can tell for sure that he's smiling.
"Hmm," Brendon says, dubiously, arching his back to press himself more firmly into Ryan's hand. Ryan moves with him instead of pushing down harder.
Brendon lifts his hand from under the sheets and reaches for Ryan. At first, he just curves it along the back of Ryan's head, petting his fingers through the soft, fine hair in gentle movements so that his fingers don't catch in the tangles. "It could be," Brendon whispers, tightening his grip and trying to pull Ryan back to his mouth.
Ryan kisses him again quickly. "Later, okay? There's something I want to show you first."
"Yeah?" Brendon asks, grinning. Ryan's hand is still underneath his shirt, so it's awkward when he tries to reach down and grope for Ryan's cock. Ryan intercepts his hand just as he's hooking his fingers into the waistband of Ryan's PJs, about to pull them down. Brendon fights him, halfheartedly, twisting his wrist in the grasp. Ryan pinches his nipple in reprimand, a soft, quick motion that makes Brendon gasp. Ryan does it again.
Brendon flexes his wrist, but he's not struggling anymore.
Ryan smoothes his thumb over the skin before pulling his hand free of Brendon's shirt, "You ready?" he asks.
"'kay," Brendon says. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, tucking his cock up into the waistband of his pants before standing.
"You need a hoodie," Ryan says, picking one off the floor and handing it to Brendon.
"Are we going somewhere?"
"Just outside," Ryan says, passing Brendon a pair of socks as well.
They’re quiet when they walk to the front door, though it's still early enough that it would take a lot more than normal volumes of conversation to wake Jon and Spencer.
Ryan's got a hoodie resting on top of his shoes and he shrugs it on as Brendon struggles to tie up his laces, fingers still stiff from sleep.
"You planned this all out?" Brendon asks.
"No," Ryan says. "I just woke up a little while ago, and I remembered that I forgot my iPod in the car, so I went outside to get it. And I thought that maybe I'd get you to come see, too."
"Come see what?"
"It got really foggy through the night," Ryan says, holding the door open from Brendon as he steps outside.
It's still foggy, the air thick and moist, but not opaque any longer. Ryan leads Brendon down the driveway and onto the street, away from the cabin. It's a gravel road, and they walk slowly, zigzagging around the pot holes.
"Did you see--" Brendon asks, pointing to the branches above them.
"Yeah," Ryan says.
There are spider webs everywhere: in the branches overhead, the post of a mailbox, the curve of the streetlight. The fog has turned to dew in the strands, clinging in tiny droplets and making the webs clearly visible. The sun is just past risen, and the early morning light catches the drops. Some of the webs are floating down, half destroyed and long abandoned, but others are still perfect circles. Brendon can see a fat, black spider dangling from a thread hanging off one of the large bushes which is rubbing up against a taller tree.
Trees line the road, thick on either side, and the sun filters through the branches in thick beams, soft and warm in the remaining fog. Brendon had always through that was a camera trick when he saw the pictures of the light cutting across the forest floor in sharp blocks on a calendar his mother had one year. He raises his hand as they walk through one of the brighter beams and touches the light with his fingers. It doesn't feel like anything and Brendon doesn’t know why that surprises him.
The air is sharp and fresh, cool still from the night, even though there is no wind stirring around them. Brendon tucks his hands into his pockets and jumps over one of the larger holes in the road while Ryan walks around the circumference.
"Pretty cool," he says to Ryan. His voice isn't louder than usual, but it's a shock to hear it in the silence. It's always quiet up in the mountains, with less traffic and the neighboring houses further apart than in the city, though there are still the noises of the forest, the wind, sounds of the branches and the animals, and Ryan bickering with Jon in the background somewhere. But now, all that Brendon can hear are the birds, somewhere off in the distance, deeper into the trees, away from the road.
"Yeah," Ryan says.
Brendon's hands are freezing, even in his pockets. He pulls them out, cupping them close to his mouth and breathing out hot air.
"Here," Ryan says, pulling them off the road and onto the dirt shoulder. He cups Brendon's hands, completely covering them in his own, and rubs until the friction creates heat.
While Ryan is distracted and looking down between them, Brendon leans in to kiss him quickly. It feels daring like this, in the daylight and silence, compared to the fast noise they're used to on stage. Ryan kisses him back, before pulling away and looking around quickly. Maybe he feels it too.
"We can go back now," Ryan says. They head back to the cabin, but Ryan keeps hold of one of Brendon hands. Brendon laces their fingers together and rubs his thumb along the curve of Ryan's first finger.
Brendon kicks off his shoes, keeping hold of Ryan's hand while Ryan does the same.
"That was cool," Brendon whispers to him as they walk back towards the bedrooms. "I'm glad you woke me up."
Ryan nods and gives Brendon's hand squeeze.
"Just a sec," Ryan says as they pass the bathroom. "I need water."
Brendon lets go of Ryan's hand, but follows him inside.
He hangs back by the door as Ryan walks over to the sink and washes his hands with soap. But, when Ryan cups his hands under the water and stoops over to drink from his open palms, Brendon can't help himself. He walks behind Ryan and fits his hands over Ryan's hip bones, rutting against him, gently so that he doesn't knock Ryan's head into the facet.
Ryan rolls his eyes at Brendon in the mirror. He drinks three more palmfuls before turning off the flow of water. Ryan straightens, but he doesn't move away. Brendon wraps his arms around Ryan's waist and presses his face against the sharp curve of Ryan's shoulder. "You're warm," he whispers, rubbing his cheek around the soft fabric Ryan's well-worn hoodie before bouncing up on the balls of his feet to kiss Ryan's neck.
Ryan spends so much time folded in on himself. It's only at times like this, when Brendon molds himself along the curve of Ryan's spine, that he is really reminded that Ryan's taller than him.
He peeks over Ryan's shoulder and looks at his face in the mirror. Ryan's looking down, mouth soft and gently curving upwards, palms pressed flat to the counter in front of him.
Brendon's cock is hard where he's fitting against Ryan's ass, but it's more of a reminder than anything else. He's used to being hard around Ryan, all the time. It's easier now that he doesn't have to worry about Ryan noticing. The months on tour, still edging around each other, closer and closer, and fuck, there really was no good place to jerk off in private on the bus. But now he gets to touch Ryan like he wants to, gets to wrap his arms around him and tuck his nose into the curve of Ryan's neck, breathing long and deep, and all Ryan does is tip his head and expose more skin to Brendon.
Brendon eases the pressure of his hips, readjusting his grip so that his forehead is resting on Ryan's shoulder. His eyes slip shut, but open again quickly at the slow motion of Ryan pressing back against him. Brendon can feel it when Ryan arches his back, just a little, pushing back against Brendon's cock. Brendon’s breath catches in his throat and when Ryan pushes back against him again, he pulls his head away, changing the angle of his body so that he can push back.
It's almost tempting to just bend Ryan over the counter and fuck him, bruising his hip bones on the sharp porcelain. Except that, as always, as soon as he comes up with the idea, it slips away just as quickly. Brendon thinks that they should probably be fucking a lot harder than they do, but by the time he's actually got Ryan spread beneath him, it's all soft skin and sharp angles. Brendon gets distracted by the touching and the kissing and the things that Ryan will whisper to him if he dips his head in close enough to hear.
He grinds against Ryan and works off his hoodie and t-shirt. He presses kisses down the knobs of Ryan's spine, made even more visible by the dip of Ryan's head. He rubs his hands up Ryan's sides and around to his back, up and over until he's palming Ryan's shoulders. Brendon drags his hands down Ryan's arms in a loose circle until he reaches Ryan's hands and threads their fingers together. He's watching Ryan in the mirror, the expansion of his ribs when he inhales, the dent of his belly, rolling as he pushes back to meet Brendon's hips. Ryan squeezes Brendon's hands then lets go, twisting in his arms until they are facing each other. Brendon keeps his hands on the counter so that Ryan is trapped close against his body and kisses across his collarbone, up the tendons in his neck, starkly visible with the twist of Ryan's head, until he reaches Ryan's jaw. He drags his lips over the fuzz there, until Ryan wiggles and catches his mouth.
Ryan rests his palms on Brendon upper arms as they kiss, until Brendon lets go of the counter to pull Ryan in closer to him and Ryan's hands move to his shoulders. Ryan pushes away from the kiss quickly and helps Brendon pull his shirt off, dropping it onto the floor. Ryan presses his hands to Brendon's bare skin. Ryan touches Brendon carefully, always, mapping out the planes and textures of his skin like each time it's new. His long fingers can almost wrap completely in a circle around Brendon's waist.
Brendon rests his hands on Ryan's sides as Ryan works his fingers over the curves of his shoulders, the angles of his torso, until his hands are on Brendon's lower stomach, and Brendon moves in to kiss him again. Ryan opens to his tongue while his fingers slip under Brendon's pajamas and wrap around his cock. Brendon holds still and lets Ryan work his pants lower until his cock is free. Ryan's barely stroking him. It's just a hint of friction on his bare skin, so Brendon doesn't know why he's making a soft noise into Ryan's mouth. It's like that sometimes: randomly overwhelming. From the way that Ryan will start shaking at just the tip of Brendon's tongue tracing the curve of his hipbones; Brendon knows that it's the same for him.
Brendon sucks on Ryan's lower lip as he gradually pulls away from his mouth, kissing him hard one last time before pulling away. He brushes Ryan's hand away and drops to the floor, pulling Ryan's sweats down to the ground with him. He looks up at Ryan, who runs a hand through Brendon's hair, before Brendon closes his eyes, opens his mouth and Ryan nudges his hips forward, pushing his cock past Brendon's lips.
It doesn't feel like being on his knees; it feels like being closer to Ryan's cock. He runs his tongue over the head, holding it steady with his other hand as he runs his tongue in circles around the ridge. He presses Ryan's cock up closer to his stomach and licks along the thick vein on the underside. Down, then up again to flicker quickly over the head. He curls his fingers into a ring and slides them along the length of Ryan's cock, following behind with his mouth. He wraps his other hand around Ryan's upper thigh, steadying himself as he kneels and opens wider.
Ryan pets his head, just gently. Brendon is still working into a rhythm, relearning the stretch and press of Ryan's cock in his mouth. They've done this enough times before that Brendon probably should have a routine by now, a set of motions to go through, a list of ways to make Ryan come. But instead, each time Brendon gets Ryan's cock inside his mouth he's overwhelmed by the shape and the taste and the noises that sometimes he can get Ryan to make, always quiet, just low in his throat and only for Brendon to hear.
Ryan's canting his hips forward and Brendon slides his other hand up the slim column of Ryan's thigh to his hips, tracing lightly over the thin skin stretched tight across his hips, before up further still to his lower belly, his stomach. He splays his hand across Ryan's stomach and feels the way that the muscles tighten and relax, in time with his breathing, in time with Brendon's tongue.
He can feel it when Ryan hums, a low rumble in the hollow just before his ribs meet. The skin is more fragile there, without the solid push of bone underneath, pressing up, jutting out. Brendon likes to rub his nose across the triangle leading down from Ryan's sternum to his belly, breathe in the smell of Ryan's skin. Ryan will lie still under his hands, against his lips, and let Brendon touch, before rolling Brendon over and repeating the paths that Brendon took with his own lips and tongue and fingers. Brendon can't stay still like Ryan can. He squirms against the sheets, muttering nonsense and squeaking when Ryan moves across a ticklish stretch of skin. Ryan's always so careful with his fingers; Brendon gets overwhelmed with the intensity of his touch.
Brendon pulls up with a long slurping noise and sucks on the head of Ryan's cock until Ryan starts squirming. He tastes bitter now, when Brendon licks over the slit. Brendon sucks hard as he bobs up and down, pulling his hand in counterpoint with the motion of his mouth. Ryan's hand moves away from Brendon's hair to clutch at the counter. Brendon glances up at him. Ryan's looking down, watching him, and sucking his lower lip into his mouth. Brendon lets his eyes close again, concentrating on the texture over his tongue of the thick vein along the bottom of Ryan's cock.
Brendon moves quickly, opening his jaw wider, until Ryan swears under his breath. Brendon slows his motions, gradually, drawing a soft groan from Ryan as he jerks and comes in Brendon's mouth.
Brendon stands and waits for Ryan to move so that he can spit into the sink. He'll swallow, normally, but the sink's right there. And maybe Brendon doesn't feel like he has as much to prove, as much impressing to do. Except that Ryan isn't moving, except in closer to Brendon's mouth, expect to press their lips together and lick out over the little dribble that's escaped from the corner of Brendon's mouth. Brendon parts his lips, and fuck, does he hope that he's read this correctly and that Ryan's not in for a surprise.
Ryan licks inside, over Brendon's tongue and around to the corners of Brendon's cheeks where Brendon has tucked most of the ejaculate. Ryan licks and Brendon works his jaw to push it forward, into Ryan's mouth passed the seal of their lips. Ryan's mouth closes quickly as he swallows, before surging open against Brendon's again. He licks the bitterness off Brendon's tongue in light, little swipes until Brendon is gasping through his nose and grinding his cock into the sharp ridge of Ryan's hipbone. Brendon feels covered in Ryan, he's all that Brendon can taste and feel and smell, and Brendon's cock is aching, pulsing against Ryan's hip. He's close now, tongue sloppy and frantic against Ryan's. He's lost any finesse in the kiss, but Ryan doesn't seem to care.
Ryan pulls away. Brendon doesn't mean to whine as loudly as he does but. Ryan pulls away.
Brendon presses the heel of his hand against his cock. Just to take the pressure off, at first, but fuck it. He's so close, it'd just take a few hard strokes and. Ryan wraps his hand around Brendon's wrist. There's no force behind his grasp, nothing to stop Brendon's movement, but Brendon does anyway.
"You don't have to do that," Ryan says. "You could let me-- I want to touch you."
Brendon lets his hand drop away.
Ryan pulls his pajamas down further and Brendon helps by kicking them away. He's naked in front of Ryan now, in the well lit bathroom, cock jutting out as he tries not to rub up against Ryan again. He folds his hands into loose fists and waits. Ryan's looking at him and Brendon tries not to squirm, tries not to pull him in close, tries to just wait. Brendon watches Ryan watching him until Ryan twists them around so that Brendon's back is against the counter.
"Turn around?" he says, guiding Brendon to face the sink.
Brendon smooths his palms along the counter top and waits for Ryan to touch him.
Ryan kisses the back of his neck quickly, before dropping to his knees, and fuck. Brendon can feel his hands gliding up the back of his thighs. He twitches when Ryan presses his lips to the base of his spine, working lower and lower in slow, open mouthed kisses. He rubs his thumbs along the crease just under the curve of Brendon's ass. Brendon lets out a little squeak because it sort of tickles and sort of makes something sizzle up the arch of his spine.
Ryan's working his thumbs up now, spreading him open and kissing down slow but steady enough that it's not just a tease. Brendon bends until he's resting on his elbows and tries not to buck against Ryan's tongue. Tries to just wait as Ryan sticks his tongue out further so it's less of a kiss and more of a long lick and there-- Brendon keens and rests his face on his forearms as Ryan licks over the entrance to his body. Ryan's licking in firm, short strokes, cupping Brendon's ass in his hands and holding him open. Brendon adjusts his stance, spreading his legs open wider. He can't help the motion of his hips, pushing back against Ryan, rubbing against the wet heat of his tongue. Brendon gasps loudly, through his nose at first, then opens his mouth to pant as Ryan starts to push his tongue forward, as Ryan starts to push inside.
It isn't fair because Brendon was so close already, and Ryan's tongue. And Ryan's tongue. And Ryan's tongue and Ryan's licking inside now, pressing past the ring of muscle and pressing down with his fingers just lower than his tongue, just under Brendon's balls and Brendon comes. Brendon comes and he can feel it everywhere, can barely notice his cock jerking. Ryan's still working his tongue inside, and Brendon's knows he’s making too much noise, but he can't stop himself. Ryan works his tongue out, slowly, sending shock after shock of pleasure up Brendon's spine, and maybe he's whimpering a little bit, but at least he didn't melt into a puddle on the ground, which was the other option.
Ryan pulls his tongue out, flicking the tip around in a circle before kissing his way up Brendon's back, one vertebra at a time. By the time he's reached Brendon's shoulders Brendon is quivering under his fingers, but has mostly gained control of his vocal cords.
Brendon opens his mouth to say something, but there aren't words available to his mouth. Ryan's makes up for it though, leaning in close to whisper, "I want to fuck you now," and Brendon's nodding. Brendon's nodding and arching into the hard press of Ryan's cock against the curve of his ass, and he could take it now, if Ryan just pressed inside. He could take the stretch and force of it. But Ryan isn't pushing inside. Ryan's just grinding against him, holding him up until he can breathe easily again, rubbing his fingers along Brendon's stomach until he can convince the muscles to unclench.
There isn't lube in the bathroom, but there is some in Ryan's room and Brendon's half expecting it when Ryan says, "Wanna come to my room now?" He's half expecting it, but he's half pleased to hear it anyway.
They grab the remaining clothes and walk to Ryan's room and Brendon lies face down on the bed and shakes while Ryan works his fingers deep inside, like he could actually have Brendon any more open than he already is, like there's anything Brendon can give to him that he'd have to work for.
Like maybe he just wants to touch him anyway.
Brendon/Ryan | NC-17 | ~ 4000 words |
Brendon wakes to Ryan's hand stroking softly across his stomach.
For theaerosolkid. Telis and I were talking about how awesome Spencer/Brendon is and how fabulous genderswaps are (okay, maybe not exactly, but that's how I like to remember the conversation) and I said, dude, you should write some of that. And she said, only if you write me Brendon/Ryan. Fluffy Brendon/Ryan. And I said, do you want to kill me here, woman? But, she dangled Spencer/Brendon genderswap in front of me and it wasn't like there was any chance that I could say no anyway.
Thanks so much to notshybutsly and provetheworst for betaing! <3
Brendon wakes to Ryan's hand stroking softly across his stomach.
"Whazzit?" he mumbles, struggling to regain consciousness.
Ryan just sits on the bed quietly, letting Brendon slowly blink himself awake. He dips his hand under the hem of Brendon's t-shirt and fans out his fingers. Brendon's a little bit ticklish normally, but he's still relaxed so Ryan's fingers just feel warm.
He rubs across his eyes with his fist, wiping the sleep away. "Hi," he croaks, squinting at Ryan. He reaches clumsily to the bedside table, until Ryan leans over and passes his glasses to him with his free hand.
"Hi," Ryan says. He slides his hand further up Brendon's stomach until his fingers curve along the ridge of Brendon's ribcage. Brendon can feel the weight of his touch every time he takes a breath.
"'s dark still. Time's it?" Brendon asks.
"It's early," Ryan whispers. "You can go back to sleep if you want, but there's something I was hoping to show you."
" 'm awake," Brendon slurs. "Wha's it?"
Ryan's still mostly indistinguishable from the shadows, but Brendon thinks that maybe he smiles.
"What?"
Ryan leans down slowly and Brendon has time to push off the pillow and tilt his chin so that he meets Ryan's mouth easily. Ryan kisses him, soft and languid, until Brendon can feel it in his toes.
Ryan's still sitting on the side of the bed, spine curved sharply to reach Brendon's mouth. Brendon feels pinned to the bed by Ryan's hand stretched across his ribs, even though Ryan's barely pressing down. His thumb is working in slow circles and he's brushing Brendon's nipple with each pass. Brendon's pretty sure that he's been hard the whole time Ryan's been here, since before Ryan woke him up even, but it's only now that he notices it.
The pressure created between their mouths is hardly anything, and the kiss breaks easily when Brendon nudges his head to the side. "Was this a bootie call?" he whispers to Ryan.
"No," Ryan says, and this close, Brendon can tell for sure that he's smiling.
"Hmm," Brendon says, dubiously, arching his back to press himself more firmly into Ryan's hand. Ryan moves with him instead of pushing down harder.
Brendon lifts his hand from under the sheets and reaches for Ryan. At first, he just curves it along the back of Ryan's head, petting his fingers through the soft, fine hair in gentle movements so that his fingers don't catch in the tangles. "It could be," Brendon whispers, tightening his grip and trying to pull Ryan back to his mouth.
Ryan kisses him again quickly. "Later, okay? There's something I want to show you first."
"Yeah?" Brendon asks, grinning. Ryan's hand is still underneath his shirt, so it's awkward when he tries to reach down and grope for Ryan's cock. Ryan intercepts his hand just as he's hooking his fingers into the waistband of Ryan's PJs, about to pull them down. Brendon fights him, halfheartedly, twisting his wrist in the grasp. Ryan pinches his nipple in reprimand, a soft, quick motion that makes Brendon gasp. Ryan does it again.
Brendon flexes his wrist, but he's not struggling anymore.
Ryan smoothes his thumb over the skin before pulling his hand free of Brendon's shirt, "You ready?" he asks.
"'kay," Brendon says. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, tucking his cock up into the waistband of his pants before standing.
"You need a hoodie," Ryan says, picking one off the floor and handing it to Brendon.
"Are we going somewhere?"
"Just outside," Ryan says, passing Brendon a pair of socks as well.
They’re quiet when they walk to the front door, though it's still early enough that it would take a lot more than normal volumes of conversation to wake Jon and Spencer.
Ryan's got a hoodie resting on top of his shoes and he shrugs it on as Brendon struggles to tie up his laces, fingers still stiff from sleep.
"You planned this all out?" Brendon asks.
"No," Ryan says. "I just woke up a little while ago, and I remembered that I forgot my iPod in the car, so I went outside to get it. And I thought that maybe I'd get you to come see, too."
"Come see what?"
"It got really foggy through the night," Ryan says, holding the door open from Brendon as he steps outside.
It's still foggy, the air thick and moist, but not opaque any longer. Ryan leads Brendon down the driveway and onto the street, away from the cabin. It's a gravel road, and they walk slowly, zigzagging around the pot holes.
"Did you see--" Brendon asks, pointing to the branches above them.
"Yeah," Ryan says.
There are spider webs everywhere: in the branches overhead, the post of a mailbox, the curve of the streetlight. The fog has turned to dew in the strands, clinging in tiny droplets and making the webs clearly visible. The sun is just past risen, and the early morning light catches the drops. Some of the webs are floating down, half destroyed and long abandoned, but others are still perfect circles. Brendon can see a fat, black spider dangling from a thread hanging off one of the large bushes which is rubbing up against a taller tree.
Trees line the road, thick on either side, and the sun filters through the branches in thick beams, soft and warm in the remaining fog. Brendon had always through that was a camera trick when he saw the pictures of the light cutting across the forest floor in sharp blocks on a calendar his mother had one year. He raises his hand as they walk through one of the brighter beams and touches the light with his fingers. It doesn't feel like anything and Brendon doesn’t know why that surprises him.
The air is sharp and fresh, cool still from the night, even though there is no wind stirring around them. Brendon tucks his hands into his pockets and jumps over one of the larger holes in the road while Ryan walks around the circumference.
"Pretty cool," he says to Ryan. His voice isn't louder than usual, but it's a shock to hear it in the silence. It's always quiet up in the mountains, with less traffic and the neighboring houses further apart than in the city, though there are still the noises of the forest, the wind, sounds of the branches and the animals, and Ryan bickering with Jon in the background somewhere. But now, all that Brendon can hear are the birds, somewhere off in the distance, deeper into the trees, away from the road.
"Yeah," Ryan says.
Brendon's hands are freezing, even in his pockets. He pulls them out, cupping them close to his mouth and breathing out hot air.
"Here," Ryan says, pulling them off the road and onto the dirt shoulder. He cups Brendon's hands, completely covering them in his own, and rubs until the friction creates heat.
While Ryan is distracted and looking down between them, Brendon leans in to kiss him quickly. It feels daring like this, in the daylight and silence, compared to the fast noise they're used to on stage. Ryan kisses him back, before pulling away and looking around quickly. Maybe he feels it too.
"We can go back now," Ryan says. They head back to the cabin, but Ryan keeps hold of one of Brendon hands. Brendon laces their fingers together and rubs his thumb along the curve of Ryan's first finger.
Brendon kicks off his shoes, keeping hold of Ryan's hand while Ryan does the same.
"That was cool," Brendon whispers to him as they walk back towards the bedrooms. "I'm glad you woke me up."
Ryan nods and gives Brendon's hand squeeze.
"Just a sec," Ryan says as they pass the bathroom. "I need water."
Brendon lets go of Ryan's hand, but follows him inside.
He hangs back by the door as Ryan walks over to the sink and washes his hands with soap. But, when Ryan cups his hands under the water and stoops over to drink from his open palms, Brendon can't help himself. He walks behind Ryan and fits his hands over Ryan's hip bones, rutting against him, gently so that he doesn't knock Ryan's head into the facet.
Ryan rolls his eyes at Brendon in the mirror. He drinks three more palmfuls before turning off the flow of water. Ryan straightens, but he doesn't move away. Brendon wraps his arms around Ryan's waist and presses his face against the sharp curve of Ryan's shoulder. "You're warm," he whispers, rubbing his cheek around the soft fabric Ryan's well-worn hoodie before bouncing up on the balls of his feet to kiss Ryan's neck.
Ryan spends so much time folded in on himself. It's only at times like this, when Brendon molds himself along the curve of Ryan's spine, that he is really reminded that Ryan's taller than him.
He peeks over Ryan's shoulder and looks at his face in the mirror. Ryan's looking down, mouth soft and gently curving upwards, palms pressed flat to the counter in front of him.
Brendon's cock is hard where he's fitting against Ryan's ass, but it's more of a reminder than anything else. He's used to being hard around Ryan, all the time. It's easier now that he doesn't have to worry about Ryan noticing. The months on tour, still edging around each other, closer and closer, and fuck, there really was no good place to jerk off in private on the bus. But now he gets to touch Ryan like he wants to, gets to wrap his arms around him and tuck his nose into the curve of Ryan's neck, breathing long and deep, and all Ryan does is tip his head and expose more skin to Brendon.
Brendon eases the pressure of his hips, readjusting his grip so that his forehead is resting on Ryan's shoulder. His eyes slip shut, but open again quickly at the slow motion of Ryan pressing back against him. Brendon can feel it when Ryan arches his back, just a little, pushing back against Brendon's cock. Brendon’s breath catches in his throat and when Ryan pushes back against him again, he pulls his head away, changing the angle of his body so that he can push back.
It's almost tempting to just bend Ryan over the counter and fuck him, bruising his hip bones on the sharp porcelain. Except that, as always, as soon as he comes up with the idea, it slips away just as quickly. Brendon thinks that they should probably be fucking a lot harder than they do, but by the time he's actually got Ryan spread beneath him, it's all soft skin and sharp angles. Brendon gets distracted by the touching and the kissing and the things that Ryan will whisper to him if he dips his head in close enough to hear.
He grinds against Ryan and works off his hoodie and t-shirt. He presses kisses down the knobs of Ryan's spine, made even more visible by the dip of Ryan's head. He rubs his hands up Ryan's sides and around to his back, up and over until he's palming Ryan's shoulders. Brendon drags his hands down Ryan's arms in a loose circle until he reaches Ryan's hands and threads their fingers together. He's watching Ryan in the mirror, the expansion of his ribs when he inhales, the dent of his belly, rolling as he pushes back to meet Brendon's hips. Ryan squeezes Brendon's hands then lets go, twisting in his arms until they are facing each other. Brendon keeps his hands on the counter so that Ryan is trapped close against his body and kisses across his collarbone, up the tendons in his neck, starkly visible with the twist of Ryan's head, until he reaches Ryan's jaw. He drags his lips over the fuzz there, until Ryan wiggles and catches his mouth.
Ryan rests his palms on Brendon upper arms as they kiss, until Brendon lets go of the counter to pull Ryan in closer to him and Ryan's hands move to his shoulders. Ryan pushes away from the kiss quickly and helps Brendon pull his shirt off, dropping it onto the floor. Ryan presses his hands to Brendon's bare skin. Ryan touches Brendon carefully, always, mapping out the planes and textures of his skin like each time it's new. His long fingers can almost wrap completely in a circle around Brendon's waist.
Brendon rests his hands on Ryan's sides as Ryan works his fingers over the curves of his shoulders, the angles of his torso, until his hands are on Brendon's lower stomach, and Brendon moves in to kiss him again. Ryan opens to his tongue while his fingers slip under Brendon's pajamas and wrap around his cock. Brendon holds still and lets Ryan work his pants lower until his cock is free. Ryan's barely stroking him. It's just a hint of friction on his bare skin, so Brendon doesn't know why he's making a soft noise into Ryan's mouth. It's like that sometimes: randomly overwhelming. From the way that Ryan will start shaking at just the tip of Brendon's tongue tracing the curve of his hipbones; Brendon knows that it's the same for him.
Brendon sucks on Ryan's lower lip as he gradually pulls away from his mouth, kissing him hard one last time before pulling away. He brushes Ryan's hand away and drops to the floor, pulling Ryan's sweats down to the ground with him. He looks up at Ryan, who runs a hand through Brendon's hair, before Brendon closes his eyes, opens his mouth and Ryan nudges his hips forward, pushing his cock past Brendon's lips.
It doesn't feel like being on his knees; it feels like being closer to Ryan's cock. He runs his tongue over the head, holding it steady with his other hand as he runs his tongue in circles around the ridge. He presses Ryan's cock up closer to his stomach and licks along the thick vein on the underside. Down, then up again to flicker quickly over the head. He curls his fingers into a ring and slides them along the length of Ryan's cock, following behind with his mouth. He wraps his other hand around Ryan's upper thigh, steadying himself as he kneels and opens wider.
Ryan pets his head, just gently. Brendon is still working into a rhythm, relearning the stretch and press of Ryan's cock in his mouth. They've done this enough times before that Brendon probably should have a routine by now, a set of motions to go through, a list of ways to make Ryan come. But instead, each time Brendon gets Ryan's cock inside his mouth he's overwhelmed by the shape and the taste and the noises that sometimes he can get Ryan to make, always quiet, just low in his throat and only for Brendon to hear.
Ryan's canting his hips forward and Brendon slides his other hand up the slim column of Ryan's thigh to his hips, tracing lightly over the thin skin stretched tight across his hips, before up further still to his lower belly, his stomach. He splays his hand across Ryan's stomach and feels the way that the muscles tighten and relax, in time with his breathing, in time with Brendon's tongue.
He can feel it when Ryan hums, a low rumble in the hollow just before his ribs meet. The skin is more fragile there, without the solid push of bone underneath, pressing up, jutting out. Brendon likes to rub his nose across the triangle leading down from Ryan's sternum to his belly, breathe in the smell of Ryan's skin. Ryan will lie still under his hands, against his lips, and let Brendon touch, before rolling Brendon over and repeating the paths that Brendon took with his own lips and tongue and fingers. Brendon can't stay still like Ryan can. He squirms against the sheets, muttering nonsense and squeaking when Ryan moves across a ticklish stretch of skin. Ryan's always so careful with his fingers; Brendon gets overwhelmed with the intensity of his touch.
Brendon pulls up with a long slurping noise and sucks on the head of Ryan's cock until Ryan starts squirming. He tastes bitter now, when Brendon licks over the slit. Brendon sucks hard as he bobs up and down, pulling his hand in counterpoint with the motion of his mouth. Ryan's hand moves away from Brendon's hair to clutch at the counter. Brendon glances up at him. Ryan's looking down, watching him, and sucking his lower lip into his mouth. Brendon lets his eyes close again, concentrating on the texture over his tongue of the thick vein along the bottom of Ryan's cock.
Brendon moves quickly, opening his jaw wider, until Ryan swears under his breath. Brendon slows his motions, gradually, drawing a soft groan from Ryan as he jerks and comes in Brendon's mouth.
Brendon stands and waits for Ryan to move so that he can spit into the sink. He'll swallow, normally, but the sink's right there. And maybe Brendon doesn't feel like he has as much to prove, as much impressing to do. Except that Ryan isn't moving, except in closer to Brendon's mouth, expect to press their lips together and lick out over the little dribble that's escaped from the corner of Brendon's mouth. Brendon parts his lips, and fuck, does he hope that he's read this correctly and that Ryan's not in for a surprise.
Ryan licks inside, over Brendon's tongue and around to the corners of Brendon's cheeks where Brendon has tucked most of the ejaculate. Ryan licks and Brendon works his jaw to push it forward, into Ryan's mouth passed the seal of their lips. Ryan's mouth closes quickly as he swallows, before surging open against Brendon's again. He licks the bitterness off Brendon's tongue in light, little swipes until Brendon is gasping through his nose and grinding his cock into the sharp ridge of Ryan's hipbone. Brendon feels covered in Ryan, he's all that Brendon can taste and feel and smell, and Brendon's cock is aching, pulsing against Ryan's hip. He's close now, tongue sloppy and frantic against Ryan's. He's lost any finesse in the kiss, but Ryan doesn't seem to care.
Ryan pulls away. Brendon doesn't mean to whine as loudly as he does but. Ryan pulls away.
Brendon presses the heel of his hand against his cock. Just to take the pressure off, at first, but fuck it. He's so close, it'd just take a few hard strokes and. Ryan wraps his hand around Brendon's wrist. There's no force behind his grasp, nothing to stop Brendon's movement, but Brendon does anyway.
"You don't have to do that," Ryan says. "You could let me-- I want to touch you."
Brendon lets his hand drop away.
Ryan pulls his pajamas down further and Brendon helps by kicking them away. He's naked in front of Ryan now, in the well lit bathroom, cock jutting out as he tries not to rub up against Ryan again. He folds his hands into loose fists and waits. Ryan's looking at him and Brendon tries not to squirm, tries not to pull him in close, tries to just wait. Brendon watches Ryan watching him until Ryan twists them around so that Brendon's back is against the counter.
"Turn around?" he says, guiding Brendon to face the sink.
Brendon smooths his palms along the counter top and waits for Ryan to touch him.
Ryan kisses the back of his neck quickly, before dropping to his knees, and fuck. Brendon can feel his hands gliding up the back of his thighs. He twitches when Ryan presses his lips to the base of his spine, working lower and lower in slow, open mouthed kisses. He rubs his thumbs along the crease just under the curve of Brendon's ass. Brendon lets out a little squeak because it sort of tickles and sort of makes something sizzle up the arch of his spine.
Ryan's working his thumbs up now, spreading him open and kissing down slow but steady enough that it's not just a tease. Brendon bends until he's resting on his elbows and tries not to buck against Ryan's tongue. Tries to just wait as Ryan sticks his tongue out further so it's less of a kiss and more of a long lick and there-- Brendon keens and rests his face on his forearms as Ryan licks over the entrance to his body. Ryan's licking in firm, short strokes, cupping Brendon's ass in his hands and holding him open. Brendon adjusts his stance, spreading his legs open wider. He can't help the motion of his hips, pushing back against Ryan, rubbing against the wet heat of his tongue. Brendon gasps loudly, through his nose at first, then opens his mouth to pant as Ryan starts to push his tongue forward, as Ryan starts to push inside.
It isn't fair because Brendon was so close already, and Ryan's tongue. And Ryan's tongue. And Ryan's tongue and Ryan's licking inside now, pressing past the ring of muscle and pressing down with his fingers just lower than his tongue, just under Brendon's balls and Brendon comes. Brendon comes and he can feel it everywhere, can barely notice his cock jerking. Ryan's still working his tongue inside, and Brendon's knows he’s making too much noise, but he can't stop himself. Ryan works his tongue out, slowly, sending shock after shock of pleasure up Brendon's spine, and maybe he's whimpering a little bit, but at least he didn't melt into a puddle on the ground, which was the other option.
Ryan pulls his tongue out, flicking the tip around in a circle before kissing his way up Brendon's back, one vertebra at a time. By the time he's reached Brendon's shoulders Brendon is quivering under his fingers, but has mostly gained control of his vocal cords.
Brendon opens his mouth to say something, but there aren't words available to his mouth. Ryan's makes up for it though, leaning in close to whisper, "I want to fuck you now," and Brendon's nodding. Brendon's nodding and arching into the hard press of Ryan's cock against the curve of his ass, and he could take it now, if Ryan just pressed inside. He could take the stretch and force of it. But Ryan isn't pushing inside. Ryan's just grinding against him, holding him up until he can breathe easily again, rubbing his fingers along Brendon's stomach until he can convince the muscles to unclench.
There isn't lube in the bathroom, but there is some in Ryan's room and Brendon's half expecting it when Ryan says, "Wanna come to my room now?" He's half expecting it, but he's half pleased to hear it anyway.
They grab the remaining clothes and walk to Ryan's room and Brendon lies face down on the bed and shakes while Ryan works his fingers deep inside, like he could actually have Brendon any more open than he already is, like there's anything Brendon can give to him that he'd have to work for.
Like maybe he just wants to touch him anyway.