For all it's worth | Brendon/Ryan | NC-17 | ~ 2100 words
For all it's worth
Brendon/Ryan [Brendon/OFC] | light NC-17 | ~ 2100 words |
Warnings for hints of D/s.
I would hope you, too,/ would hold something back,/ and that you'd always want / whatever unequal share/ you had style enough to get.
Thanks a bunch to elfiepike for betaing and airgiodslv for listening to me ramble while I was writing this, and then looking it over! <3
which will lead, of course,
to disappointment
but those words unsaid
poison every moment.
I will try to disappoint you
better than anyone ever has.
-- Mon Semblable, Stephen Dunn
Brendon goes back home for a family dinner and says, "Please pass the green beans." Says, "Yes, we hope to have the new record out for January." Says, "Sure, I'll have coffee with Mrs. Sunder's daughter sometime." He goes back to his own home, and walks around to the back entrance, even though his parking spot is closer to the front. He stands for a minute, before punching the side of the stucco wall. He pulls the punch, doesn't follow through with the original arc of motion. His middle knuckle catches most of the impact, and a little bit the fourth, and when he pulls his hand away the skin is reddened, with little indents where the white stucco dug in. He takes his key out of his pocket, walks upstairs, takes a shower, and by the time he's drying off, the only redness left is from the heat of the water.
--
Mrs. Sunder's daughter is named Miranda. They meet at Starbucks and he buys her a non-fat, decaf latte, and a coffee for himself, because even if that gets back to his mother, she already knows that he drinks caffeine.
Miranda asks him enough questions to fill in the gaps of silence. She seems to have a working knowledge that he's in a band, but is more interested in hearing about the places that he's traveled. She's leaving on her mission in five weeks.
Her hair is soft brown and clipped behind her ears. She's house-sitting for one of her girl friends, but she still lives at her parents' home. She has pierced nipples and long nails and when Brendon fucks her on top of her friend's duvet, she digs her nails sharply into his shoulders, even though they're not really having rough sex. She scratches all the way up his back; Brendon's skin goes numb, then white-hot. She does it again when his thrusts go unsteady and he starts to come, and the flare of pain intensifies the aftershocks to the point where he has to roll away because it's too much, too much.
She sits up right afterwards, alert and aware in the way that girls are when they know that the sex is over, but they still haven't orgasmed yet. She pulls her shirt over her head, leaving her bra where it's lying on the floor and says, "I don't think this was what your mother had in mind when she organized for us to meet."
Brendon wipes over his cock and thighs with his boxers before putting them back on.
"Yeah," he says.
--
The Palms is a far cry from Maryland, and Brendon is mildly hypnotized by all of the buttons and things that they get to use to record this CD.
Ryan loves it too; he keeps trying to touch things, trying to help, and Jon has to bat his hands away. Spencer's a little suspicious of the whole setup, but Brendon thinks that's just because he has to record all of his parts in a room by himself.
They usually start recording at maybe noon, and go until seven or eight. Brendon thinks that Ryan might be getting his weed from one of the techs, because afterwards, a small group of them usually smoke up in one of the suites. Jon's almost always there; sometimes Brendon comes, sometimes not. Spencer only makes it maybe a quarter of the time because Haley doesn't like the smell of pot.
--
Brendon buys a white leather couch for his living room. Somewhere, his past-self is glaring at him for buying leather, and his future-self is rolling his eyes because white furniture doesn't last, but Brendon likes it anyway.
Ryan likes it, too, when he comes over. He flattens his hand and strokes over the arm, the back, saying, "It's really soft."
His hands are huge and golden against the white.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "It's soft."
Brendon didn't move into a 'nice' condo, not like Ryan moved into a nice condo. He's got space though. He's got a living room that's big enough for his couch and his piano, and another room that he fills with functional things. Ryan doesn't stroke his hand over the couch in that room (the slightly fuzzy weave), but he sits down and pulls his feet up and manages a pretty impressive sprawl in the time it takes for Brendon to get the DVD set up.
"Make room," Brendon says, touching the tips of his fingers to Ryan's ankle.
Ryan lifts his legs up, but puts them back down once Brendon's settled. He presses his feet flat to Brendon's outer thigh, and Brendon holds still under the weight.
--
Brendon's mom calls Miranda's mom and this time Brendon just meets her at the house that she's staying in.
Miranda sits on the edge of the bed, her legs spread open, while Brendon kneels on the floor, working his fingers over her. He rests his head under her collarbone, just above where the slope of her breasts starts. She wraps her fingers in his hair, pulls when she's getting close, tugs when he changes the rhythm from something she liked, yanks when she comes, and doesn't move her hand away when he wraps his slick hand around his dick and jerks off, hard. His face slips down to press into her breasts just before he comes, scalp tingling except in the few spots where the feeling has spread to more of a throb.
When she stands, there's a wet spot on the bed where she was sitting. She puts on her underwear, light blue and cotton, and says, "You're kind of filthy."
Brendon uses a hand on the bed to climb up from his knees. His briefs are dark red.
Brendon thinks that if he were Pete Wentz, this girl would probably be his soulmate. But, he's just Brendon, and he doesn't even have her phone number.
--
Brendon doesn't really like buying DVDs, but Spencer does, so when Jon laughs at him for buying Wayne's World, Brendon blames Spencer.
Brendon doesn't really like buying groceries, and he has no one to blame but himself when his fridge is empty. He's never liked buying groceries, but he can afford what he wants to eat now, so there's no good reason for it. While they're recording, someone brings them food. Brendon's not entirely sure how it works, but when they're ready for a break, food is there waiting for them. Brendon eats while they're working, sometimes stops at a drive-thru on the way home, sometimes meets one of the guys and goes for a sub before they head to the studio to record. He just sometimes forgets to find food for himself when he's at his house.
Brendon's mom notices ("You're looking pale, sweetheart.") and brings him a huge Tupperware bowl of salad, the kind with colored marshmallows in it, and sits with Brendon while he eats three bowls.
She then sits in his living room while he plays on his piano an approximation of the songs they've been working on. It reminds him of when he was younger and he used to always ask her to sit with him while he practiced, because he always had more fun playing when he had an audience.
When she leaves, she says, "Your sister's coming back in town for the weekend, and she's bringing the kids."
Brendon says, "I'll be there."
--
Ryan is stoned when he tells them that he and Keltie are taking a break.
Brendon is stoned when Ryan tells them that he and Keltie are taking a break, so he hugs Ryan and breathes against the collar of Ryan's t-shirt, even though it smells more like smoke than like Ryan.
--
Brendon sings with The Cab and it's exhilarating, being back on stage again. He can't wait for the new record to be done, can't wait to start touring again, can't wait until the next time he gets to perform.
He's going to sing with Fall Out Boy on their last show, and he gets so nervous he almost throws up.
Ryan finds him hiding backstage. Brendon faces a wall, his forehead pressed into the plaster, trying to breathe. Ryan comes up beside him and says, "Haven't seen you get like this for a long time now." Brendon got over any stage-fright pretty quickly.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "I know. I mean, I don't know. I'm just--"
Ryan has a small, loose grin when Brendon glances over at him. Brendon still leans his forehead into the wall, but he turns his head to the side a little so that he's facing Ryan. Ryan looks calm. He doesn't have to get onstage, so it's not like there would be reason for him to be anything but. Still, it's comforting. Ryan isn't touching him; he's just close enough that Brendon's aware of him in the periphery of his space bubble.
"Come on," Ryan says. "You're up soon."
Brendon pushes away from the wall.
--
Brendon went down on Ryan, twice, way back on their first tour. He wasn't drunk either time. Probably. He probably wasn't still drunk, but both times, it was the morning after he was drinking, and apparently the half-life of alcohol is a lot longer than Brendon would have guessed. Ryan wasn't drunk. Ryan was just tense and angry and hard on his tongue, against the back of his throat.
Brendon spent the rest of the day sleeping off his hangover, sleeping off the ache in his jaw.
After the second time, Brendon stayed sober for five nights, and on the sixth, he stopped in front of Ryan's bunk and pulled back the curtain slowly. Spencer and Brent were in the lounge, watching a movie. Ryan had ducked out early, saying that he was just going to read.
Brendon pulled back the curtains to Ryan's bunk, waited for Ryan to put his book down, waited for Ryan to look up, kept his hands to himself, and went back to his own bunk when Ryan said, "What? Are you looking for something?"
--
It's not a formal family reunion, but there're a lot of people there when Brendon goes home on Sunday. He plays with the kids, mostly. They call him Brendon and they call their great-uncle Steve, Uncle.
At dinner, Steve's wife, Aunt Margette, points to the white spots of the beds of his fingernails and said, "Those are from banging your fingers. It takes weeks for the hurt spots to finish growing out."
Brendon looks at his hands; rough cuticles, thick skin. "Really?" he asks.
"Either that or zinc deficiency," she says. "Have you been looking after yourself?"
Brendon says, "Yeah," and tears his roll in half.
--
They all meet at a music store to buy new strings and sticks before heading back to the studio. Brendon finds what he needs easily, then wanders around the percussion section with Spencer.
"Spence," he says. "This one's made of wood from the bottom of Lake Erie. How fucked up is that?"
And Spencer says, "I want it."
They stand in a line and wait while Spencer arranges to have it delivered to the studio. Ryan reaches out and tucks the tag back under the collar of Brendon's shirt.
--
Ryan's high, so he's just playing when he grabs a handful of Brendon's hair and pulls his head backwards, saying, "You're blocking the TV." Ryan's just playing, so Brendon moves quickly, only pulls against his fingers in that first moment before he catches himself. Ryan tugs once again, even after Brendon's out of his way, smooths a hand over the back of his head. Looks at Brendon until Brendon looks away.
--
Brendon drives to the place where Miranda was house-sitting, but she might not still be there; her friend might be back now. He turns around before even getting out of the car.
--
Brendon's doing laundry when Ryan stops by. He's shirtless, because he'd realized that he's been wearing this same t-shirt for five days straight, and maybe he should just do a load of t-shirts first, because, seriously, are any of them clean?
He's shirtless, but there aren't any marks left on his back, left anywhere else, nothing that Ryan could see. Something gives him away though, because Ryan says, "Okay, then. Come here." Says, "Get on your knees." Says, "Put your hands behind your back and hold them there."
--
Ryan has silk scarves that go almost sharp along the creases when pulled tight. He has thicker silk that blocks out light when it's folded over a few times. He has smooth leather belts.
--
Brendon has a white couch. He has an empty Tupperware container that he needs to return to his mother. He has an empty bed most nights, except that sometimes he doesn't.
Brendon/Ryan [Brendon/OFC] | light NC-17 | ~ 2100 words |
Warnings for hints of D/s.
I would hope you, too,/ would hold something back,/ and that you'd always want / whatever unequal share/ you had style enough to get.
Thanks a bunch to elfiepike for betaing and airgiodslv for listening to me ramble while I was writing this, and then looking it over! <3
which will lead, of course,
to disappointment
but those words unsaid
poison every moment.
I will try to disappoint you
better than anyone ever has.
-- Mon Semblable, Stephen Dunn
Brendon goes back home for a family dinner and says, "Please pass the green beans." Says, "Yes, we hope to have the new record out for January." Says, "Sure, I'll have coffee with Mrs. Sunder's daughter sometime." He goes back to his own home, and walks around to the back entrance, even though his parking spot is closer to the front. He stands for a minute, before punching the side of the stucco wall. He pulls the punch, doesn't follow through with the original arc of motion. His middle knuckle catches most of the impact, and a little bit the fourth, and when he pulls his hand away the skin is reddened, with little indents where the white stucco dug in. He takes his key out of his pocket, walks upstairs, takes a shower, and by the time he's drying off, the only redness left is from the heat of the water.
--
Mrs. Sunder's daughter is named Miranda. They meet at Starbucks and he buys her a non-fat, decaf latte, and a coffee for himself, because even if that gets back to his mother, she already knows that he drinks caffeine.
Miranda asks him enough questions to fill in the gaps of silence. She seems to have a working knowledge that he's in a band, but is more interested in hearing about the places that he's traveled. She's leaving on her mission in five weeks.
Her hair is soft brown and clipped behind her ears. She's house-sitting for one of her girl friends, but she still lives at her parents' home. She has pierced nipples and long nails and when Brendon fucks her on top of her friend's duvet, she digs her nails sharply into his shoulders, even though they're not really having rough sex. She scratches all the way up his back; Brendon's skin goes numb, then white-hot. She does it again when his thrusts go unsteady and he starts to come, and the flare of pain intensifies the aftershocks to the point where he has to roll away because it's too much, too much.
She sits up right afterwards, alert and aware in the way that girls are when they know that the sex is over, but they still haven't orgasmed yet. She pulls her shirt over her head, leaving her bra where it's lying on the floor and says, "I don't think this was what your mother had in mind when she organized for us to meet."
Brendon wipes over his cock and thighs with his boxers before putting them back on.
"Yeah," he says.
--
The Palms is a far cry from Maryland, and Brendon is mildly hypnotized by all of the buttons and things that they get to use to record this CD.
Ryan loves it too; he keeps trying to touch things, trying to help, and Jon has to bat his hands away. Spencer's a little suspicious of the whole setup, but Brendon thinks that's just because he has to record all of his parts in a room by himself.
They usually start recording at maybe noon, and go until seven or eight. Brendon thinks that Ryan might be getting his weed from one of the techs, because afterwards, a small group of them usually smoke up in one of the suites. Jon's almost always there; sometimes Brendon comes, sometimes not. Spencer only makes it maybe a quarter of the time because Haley doesn't like the smell of pot.
--
Brendon buys a white leather couch for his living room. Somewhere, his past-self is glaring at him for buying leather, and his future-self is rolling his eyes because white furniture doesn't last, but Brendon likes it anyway.
Ryan likes it, too, when he comes over. He flattens his hand and strokes over the arm, the back, saying, "It's really soft."
His hands are huge and golden against the white.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "It's soft."
Brendon didn't move into a 'nice' condo, not like Ryan moved into a nice condo. He's got space though. He's got a living room that's big enough for his couch and his piano, and another room that he fills with functional things. Ryan doesn't stroke his hand over the couch in that room (the slightly fuzzy weave), but he sits down and pulls his feet up and manages a pretty impressive sprawl in the time it takes for Brendon to get the DVD set up.
"Make room," Brendon says, touching the tips of his fingers to Ryan's ankle.
Ryan lifts his legs up, but puts them back down once Brendon's settled. He presses his feet flat to Brendon's outer thigh, and Brendon holds still under the weight.
--
Brendon's mom calls Miranda's mom and this time Brendon just meets her at the house that she's staying in.
Miranda sits on the edge of the bed, her legs spread open, while Brendon kneels on the floor, working his fingers over her. He rests his head under her collarbone, just above where the slope of her breasts starts. She wraps her fingers in his hair, pulls when she's getting close, tugs when he changes the rhythm from something she liked, yanks when she comes, and doesn't move her hand away when he wraps his slick hand around his dick and jerks off, hard. His face slips down to press into her breasts just before he comes, scalp tingling except in the few spots where the feeling has spread to more of a throb.
When she stands, there's a wet spot on the bed where she was sitting. She puts on her underwear, light blue and cotton, and says, "You're kind of filthy."
Brendon uses a hand on the bed to climb up from his knees. His briefs are dark red.
Brendon thinks that if he were Pete Wentz, this girl would probably be his soulmate. But, he's just Brendon, and he doesn't even have her phone number.
--
Brendon doesn't really like buying DVDs, but Spencer does, so when Jon laughs at him for buying Wayne's World, Brendon blames Spencer.
Brendon doesn't really like buying groceries, and he has no one to blame but himself when his fridge is empty. He's never liked buying groceries, but he can afford what he wants to eat now, so there's no good reason for it. While they're recording, someone brings them food. Brendon's not entirely sure how it works, but when they're ready for a break, food is there waiting for them. Brendon eats while they're working, sometimes stops at a drive-thru on the way home, sometimes meets one of the guys and goes for a sub before they head to the studio to record. He just sometimes forgets to find food for himself when he's at his house.
Brendon's mom notices ("You're looking pale, sweetheart.") and brings him a huge Tupperware bowl of salad, the kind with colored marshmallows in it, and sits with Brendon while he eats three bowls.
She then sits in his living room while he plays on his piano an approximation of the songs they've been working on. It reminds him of when he was younger and he used to always ask her to sit with him while he practiced, because he always had more fun playing when he had an audience.
When she leaves, she says, "Your sister's coming back in town for the weekend, and she's bringing the kids."
Brendon says, "I'll be there."
--
Ryan is stoned when he tells them that he and Keltie are taking a break.
Brendon is stoned when Ryan tells them that he and Keltie are taking a break, so he hugs Ryan and breathes against the collar of Ryan's t-shirt, even though it smells more like smoke than like Ryan.
--
Brendon sings with The Cab and it's exhilarating, being back on stage again. He can't wait for the new record to be done, can't wait to start touring again, can't wait until the next time he gets to perform.
He's going to sing with Fall Out Boy on their last show, and he gets so nervous he almost throws up.
Ryan finds him hiding backstage. Brendon faces a wall, his forehead pressed into the plaster, trying to breathe. Ryan comes up beside him and says, "Haven't seen you get like this for a long time now." Brendon got over any stage-fright pretty quickly.
"Yeah," Brendon says. "I know. I mean, I don't know. I'm just--"
Ryan has a small, loose grin when Brendon glances over at him. Brendon still leans his forehead into the wall, but he turns his head to the side a little so that he's facing Ryan. Ryan looks calm. He doesn't have to get onstage, so it's not like there would be reason for him to be anything but. Still, it's comforting. Ryan isn't touching him; he's just close enough that Brendon's aware of him in the periphery of his space bubble.
"Come on," Ryan says. "You're up soon."
Brendon pushes away from the wall.
--
Brendon went down on Ryan, twice, way back on their first tour. He wasn't drunk either time. Probably. He probably wasn't still drunk, but both times, it was the morning after he was drinking, and apparently the half-life of alcohol is a lot longer than Brendon would have guessed. Ryan wasn't drunk. Ryan was just tense and angry and hard on his tongue, against the back of his throat.
Brendon spent the rest of the day sleeping off his hangover, sleeping off the ache in his jaw.
After the second time, Brendon stayed sober for five nights, and on the sixth, he stopped in front of Ryan's bunk and pulled back the curtain slowly. Spencer and Brent were in the lounge, watching a movie. Ryan had ducked out early, saying that he was just going to read.
Brendon pulled back the curtains to Ryan's bunk, waited for Ryan to put his book down, waited for Ryan to look up, kept his hands to himself, and went back to his own bunk when Ryan said, "What? Are you looking for something?"
--
It's not a formal family reunion, but there're a lot of people there when Brendon goes home on Sunday. He plays with the kids, mostly. They call him Brendon and they call their great-uncle Steve, Uncle.
At dinner, Steve's wife, Aunt Margette, points to the white spots of the beds of his fingernails and said, "Those are from banging your fingers. It takes weeks for the hurt spots to finish growing out."
Brendon looks at his hands; rough cuticles, thick skin. "Really?" he asks.
"Either that or zinc deficiency," she says. "Have you been looking after yourself?"
Brendon says, "Yeah," and tears his roll in half.
--
They all meet at a music store to buy new strings and sticks before heading back to the studio. Brendon finds what he needs easily, then wanders around the percussion section with Spencer.
"Spence," he says. "This one's made of wood from the bottom of Lake Erie. How fucked up is that?"
And Spencer says, "I want it."
They stand in a line and wait while Spencer arranges to have it delivered to the studio. Ryan reaches out and tucks the tag back under the collar of Brendon's shirt.
--
Ryan's high, so he's just playing when he grabs a handful of Brendon's hair and pulls his head backwards, saying, "You're blocking the TV." Ryan's just playing, so Brendon moves quickly, only pulls against his fingers in that first moment before he catches himself. Ryan tugs once again, even after Brendon's out of his way, smooths a hand over the back of his head. Looks at Brendon until Brendon looks away.
--
Brendon drives to the place where Miranda was house-sitting, but she might not still be there; her friend might be back now. He turns around before even getting out of the car.
--
Brendon's doing laundry when Ryan stops by. He's shirtless, because he'd realized that he's been wearing this same t-shirt for five days straight, and maybe he should just do a load of t-shirts first, because, seriously, are any of them clean?
He's shirtless, but there aren't any marks left on his back, left anywhere else, nothing that Ryan could see. Something gives him away though, because Ryan says, "Okay, then. Come here." Says, "Get on your knees." Says, "Put your hands behind your back and hold them there."
--
Ryan has silk scarves that go almost sharp along the creases when pulled tight. He has thicker silk that blocks out light when it's folded over a few times. He has smooth leather belts.
--
Brendon has a white couch. He has an empty Tupperware container that he needs to return to his mother. He has an empty bed most nights, except that sometimes he doesn't.