harmonize - fiction - glee - bryan ryan/will shuester
Title: Harmonize
Author: esqueish
Rating: R
Length: 888 words
Disclaimer: These crazy kids don't belong to me.
Summary: Tension overflows after the Les Mis audition, and Will remembers it's source.
Notes: First foray into this fandom, but I was challenged to give these two a whirl and I whipped this up.
Bryan takes Will by his shirt front and slams him against the front door of his apartment hard, and maybe Will should have protested, should have said 'Ouch, I have a peephole digging into my shoulderblade,' or 'I just got this shirt at Old Navy loosen up a bit,' or even 'Wait a minute, let me get my keys,' but he doesn't. He just arches his back as Bryan works his mouth wetly against Will's neck, moving downwards until teeth scrape collarbone. Will can feel Bryan's hands, warm and roaming as they tuck beneath vest and then shirt, palming up Will's skin. Will throws his head back, thumping against the door loudly, and he's regained use of his own hands, grabbing Bryan's waist and dragging him forward, because the scant six inches between them feels like miles.
"Nothing like a good duet." The smirk on the upperclassmen's face should not make him look even more attractive to Will, little sophomore who is standing in the back of the formation. Will shouldn't even find him attractive, but everything about Bryan Ryan's blue eyes and arrogance draws him in like a moth to flame.
Bryan hisses through his teeth as their hips fit together, and Will moans, long and low, and he bucks forward once, twice, and it pitches deeper as the hands at the small of his back dig in and scratch. "In…side?" Will finally manages, more than a little breathless. His hands shake as he fits the key to the lock, though that might have something to do with the hands that are now descending below the waistband of Will's khakis, and then his boxer briefs. A choked noise escapes him, the door knob rattles, and they're stumbling inside, the living room dark but for the light from the hallway.
"Something wrong, Schuester?" Even as he speaks, Bryan sounds like he's singing, and this sentence is a scale upwards. Questioning, and if Bryan was a girl, Will would say he's flirting. But he's almost one hundred percent sure that is not the case even if Bryan was a girl, and anyway someone who is flirting with you shouldn't use every chance they have to keep you from gaining any recognition. His arms are crossed, and Will just wants to tackle him to the floor, thought he's not sure whether it would be to break his nose or suck him off.
They somehow manage to find the couch without untangling their bodies, Bryan's right hand down Will's pants, brazenly moving the flat of his palm back and forth in strokes that are almost too rough. Will is retaliating with a swift grind of his hips backwards, and the two men almost fall to the cushions. They shift, move around each other, regaining their previous dance as Bryan hooks a leg around Will's waist and canting his hips upwards shamelessly, crooning a series of moans and curse words. Will keeps himself from collapsing on top of the other man by leaning his shoulder against the back of the couch, his hand clumsy as he reaches between them, unzipping one fly and then another. Hands ineffectually attempt to push clothing out of the way until Bryan lifts his hips again, and then they both are gasping as Will wraps his hand around both of them at once.
Will's shoulders are set and stiff, drawn back with false bravado as Bryan invades his space. "Well? Maybe you'd like to share with the class?" The brainless set of girls that would jump off multiple cliffs if told to do so by Bryan Ryan are giggling. Will smiles weakly, an attempt at a peace offering, shaking his head. "Are you sure?" Bryan is daring him with his eyes. He's saying, 'Go ahead. See what happens.'
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," is the steady staccato from Bryan's mouth, his back arching, chest heaving. Will gains some sort of sick sense of pleasure over how much control he has over him, and he slows the speed of his hand to a leisurely pace. Bryan sucks a long breath in, his mouth open wide in a silent sob. "Like this?" Will's voice is a low rumble in his chest, thunder in the distance. There is only a moan that sounds almost like 'ah-yuh' in reply, and Will turns up the speed, sweating beading around his hairline and his own hips starting to rock forward into his palm. "Just like this?" A little louder this time, his thumb making figure eights. The tendons on Bryan's neck stand out.
He can't tear his eyes away from that mouth, and Will knows he's probably embarrassing himself but he knows it would be even worse if he met those appraising eyes. He knows he should make his stand now, someone will back him out. Someone else has to want to break out from the Bryan Ryan Talent Hour featuring People Harmonizing Behind Him. He bites down on his bottom lip. "Well?" Okay, maybe now all Will wants to do is punch him. "Yes. I'm sure."
Bryan is shouting and coming hard, Will can feel the muscles of his thighs tensing as he lays between them. He follows close behind, his throat feels like it's closing up as his hand slides wetly over himself. Their voices are twisting together, singing the same melody, the same lyrics. "Yes , yes, yes…"
Author: esqueish
Rating: R
Length: 888 words
Disclaimer: These crazy kids don't belong to me.
Summary: Tension overflows after the Les Mis audition, and Will remembers it's source.
Notes: First foray into this fandom, but I was challenged to give these two a whirl and I whipped this up.
Bryan takes Will by his shirt front and slams him against the front door of his apartment hard, and maybe Will should have protested, should have said 'Ouch, I have a peephole digging into my shoulderblade,' or 'I just got this shirt at Old Navy loosen up a bit,' or even 'Wait a minute, let me get my keys,' but he doesn't. He just arches his back as Bryan works his mouth wetly against Will's neck, moving downwards until teeth scrape collarbone. Will can feel Bryan's hands, warm and roaming as they tuck beneath vest and then shirt, palming up Will's skin. Will throws his head back, thumping against the door loudly, and he's regained use of his own hands, grabbing Bryan's waist and dragging him forward, because the scant six inches between them feels like miles.
"Nothing like a good duet." The smirk on the upperclassmen's face should not make him look even more attractive to Will, little sophomore who is standing in the back of the formation. Will shouldn't even find him attractive, but everything about Bryan Ryan's blue eyes and arrogance draws him in like a moth to flame.
Bryan hisses through his teeth as their hips fit together, and Will moans, long and low, and he bucks forward once, twice, and it pitches deeper as the hands at the small of his back dig in and scratch. "In…side?" Will finally manages, more than a little breathless. His hands shake as he fits the key to the lock, though that might have something to do with the hands that are now descending below the waistband of Will's khakis, and then his boxer briefs. A choked noise escapes him, the door knob rattles, and they're stumbling inside, the living room dark but for the light from the hallway.
"Something wrong, Schuester?" Even as he speaks, Bryan sounds like he's singing, and this sentence is a scale upwards. Questioning, and if Bryan was a girl, Will would say he's flirting. But he's almost one hundred percent sure that is not the case even if Bryan was a girl, and anyway someone who is flirting with you shouldn't use every chance they have to keep you from gaining any recognition. His arms are crossed, and Will just wants to tackle him to the floor, thought he's not sure whether it would be to break his nose or suck him off.
They somehow manage to find the couch without untangling their bodies, Bryan's right hand down Will's pants, brazenly moving the flat of his palm back and forth in strokes that are almost too rough. Will is retaliating with a swift grind of his hips backwards, and the two men almost fall to the cushions. They shift, move around each other, regaining their previous dance as Bryan hooks a leg around Will's waist and canting his hips upwards shamelessly, crooning a series of moans and curse words. Will keeps himself from collapsing on top of the other man by leaning his shoulder against the back of the couch, his hand clumsy as he reaches between them, unzipping one fly and then another. Hands ineffectually attempt to push clothing out of the way until Bryan lifts his hips again, and then they both are gasping as Will wraps his hand around both of them at once.
Will's shoulders are set and stiff, drawn back with false bravado as Bryan invades his space. "Well? Maybe you'd like to share with the class?" The brainless set of girls that would jump off multiple cliffs if told to do so by Bryan Ryan are giggling. Will smiles weakly, an attempt at a peace offering, shaking his head. "Are you sure?" Bryan is daring him with his eyes. He's saying, 'Go ahead. See what happens.'
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," is the steady staccato from Bryan's mouth, his back arching, chest heaving. Will gains some sort of sick sense of pleasure over how much control he has over him, and he slows the speed of his hand to a leisurely pace. Bryan sucks a long breath in, his mouth open wide in a silent sob. "Like this?" Will's voice is a low rumble in his chest, thunder in the distance. There is only a moan that sounds almost like 'ah-yuh' in reply, and Will turns up the speed, sweating beading around his hairline and his own hips starting to rock forward into his palm. "Just like this?" A little louder this time, his thumb making figure eights. The tendons on Bryan's neck stand out.
He can't tear his eyes away from that mouth, and Will knows he's probably embarrassing himself but he knows it would be even worse if he met those appraising eyes. He knows he should make his stand now, someone will back him out. Someone else has to want to break out from the Bryan Ryan Talent Hour featuring People Harmonizing Behind Him. He bites down on his bottom lip. "Well?" Okay, maybe now all Will wants to do is punch him. "Yes. I'm sure."
Bryan is shouting and coming hard, Will can feel the muscles of his thighs tensing as he lays between them. He follows close behind, his throat feels like it's closing up as his hand slides wetly over himself. Their voices are twisting together, singing the same melody, the same lyrics. "Yes , yes, yes…"