p!atd| the composition of an epic in progress | nc.17 | brendon.ryan.spencer.jon
Author: clumsygyrl
Fandom: panic!at the disco
Pairings: ryan ross/brendon urie/spencer smith/jon walker
Rating: nc-17 [so so so… nc-17]
Disclaimer: all true. yup. all of it. except where it's not. which is all of it.
Author's notes: written for addictedkitten because she requested a ficlet of a drunk girl. She requested “p!atd gsf, dirty dirty porn gangbang”. *facepalm* this turned into a pwp with a theme. or something. thank you to my beta tobyzantium. she cheerleaded and then said she needed alone time. any other mistakes are mine and pete wentz's. why pete? why not?
the composition of an epic in progress
Every story has a beginning.
+
Ryan twisted valiantly, urging Brendon on, urging him to go faster, harder, deeper.
Fasterharderdeeper
Jon pressed the back of his head against the headboard. Wondering not for the first time that day, night, hour… year - how the fuck had he gotten here? Gotten this?
“Fuck you,” Ryan grunted, nails dragging red lines on Brendon’s hip, yanking him forward.
Brendon’s smile was feral, a white thing in the shades of gray and black. He swiped a hand through the sheen of sweat and come on Ryan’s back. “Doing that. Fuckin’ slut. Say it. Say you love this.” He punctuated each sentence with a sharp rolling thrust.
Ryan’s eyes fluttered close and his nails dug into Brendon’s skin for more purchase.
Spencer smiled, not as feral but just as dangerous, at Jon. “Get up,” he grated out. Voice husky and well used, Jon’s cock remembered the feel of that throat and voice wrapping around it.
Jon shivered and obeyed, knees slipping on the damp and wrecked sheets. “What now?” He wished there was more to his voice other than complete capitulation. He groaned feeling Spencer’s mouth ghost down his side, skin tingling anew at the rough scrape of teeth and slightly chapped lips. “Don’t… fuck. I can’t again, Spence. No way.” He said laughing weakly.
His body was the ultimate betrayer, twitching and hardening. The want clawed at his belly again. How had he become so in tune with this, with them so quickly, Jon would never know.
Didn’t know if he wanted to know.
+
Sometimes the beginning was the end and the end was the beginning.
+
Spencer’s mouth closed hot and wet around his dick, sucking it to hardness.
Jon’s hips jerked forward, glad that Spencer wasn’t singing or speaking tomorrow. Drummers had that luxury.
Spencer scraped his teeth up along the underside, heat and pain skittering up Jon’s spine. “Holy fuck,” he gasped and grabbed a fistful of Spencer’s hair, uncaring if it hurt.
Brendon’s laugh sounded loud and too close. Spencer pushed Jon back against the mattress, fingers pressing into well used muscle. Jon’s eyes rolled back into his head and he jerked up as those fingers brushed knowingly against his prostate. “Could fuckin’ find that thing in the dark.” Spencer muttered wickedly.
Jon’s cock throbbed, painfully hard now. His hips twitched up, pushing down and back against the fingers. He didn’t beg; he knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Brendon and Spencer were running the show. Both Jon and Ryan knew that. Ryan was more vocal against it; Jon had learned if he was a good little boy, they’d let him come.
On their own time, but he’d get to come.
+
Ouroboros. Cyclical. Neverending. Repetition.
+
Brendon pulled out of Ryan. Ryan whined and pushed back trying to keep Brendon there. All that got him was a hard slap on the thigh. “You’ll get more. Don’t worry.”
Jon’s breath stuttered a little when Spencer slicked a condom on him the same time Brendon pushed into him roughly. “Shit,” he groaned and arched.
Spencer’s leaned down to kiss Jon hard, teeth adding another bruise on top of earlier ones. “You love this.” He said tugging Ryan forward for a kiss as well. Jon listened to Spencer and Ryan kiss above him, mouths greedy and wet.
Jon’s eyes closed. Too much. Too fucking much.
Spencer murmured something low and soft into his ear, finally pushing Ryan away, calculating laugh underneath it. Jon twisted back onto Brendon’s cock, trying to pull him deeper. Jon gasped feeling Spencer’s teeth sink into the soft skin of his neck just as Spencer pushed Ryan on top of him.
Ryan’s mewl and Jon’s own groan echoed loudly in the dark room.
+
To me the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the music the words make. - Truman Capote
+
Brendon grunted, hips pounding bruisingly hard against Jon’s thighs. Jon spread his legs obscenely, draping over the edge of the bed as Brendon fucked him. Ryan rocked on top of him, taking just as greedily as Brendon and Spencer had before.
Spencer’s breaths seemed to echo louder than any of the other’s, next to Jon. The overly loud rasp of wet skin against wet sweat slick fingers made Jon turn his head, mouth opening trying to taste the music of the sounds.
Jon felt Brendon’s fingers dig into his hip, heard Ryan’s answering cry knowing Brendon’s hand had fisted Ryan’s cock finally. He heard and felt the thrust that marked Brendon’s coming. He squeezed down a little maliciously, smirking when Brendon cursed loudly and raked his nails down Jon’s thigh.
“Naughty,” Spencer rasped, stripping his cock faster, dark and glistening with wet. Jon moaned opening his mouth again.
Ryan twisted needily in Jon’s lap, rocking faster. Brendon’s hand still stroking Ryan lazily. He bent close to Ryan’s ear and whispered his permission.
Jon felt the warm spatter of Ryan’s come on his chest and it made him twist, jerking his hips higher.
+
Once upon a…
+
Jon watched, dazed and still painfully hard, as Brendon dragged Ryan’s pliant body off to the other bed.
They looked warm and sated, twining around each other. Jon had a hard time distinguishing where one of them began and the other ended.
Jon tipped his head back when Spencer’s fingers tangled in his hair dragging his gaze up to watch Spencer stroke himself.
There was a soft sound. A pleading one. A wanting one.
Jon swallowed, realizing it was his own. He closed his eyes and heard and felt the mark of Spencer’s release.
On his face.
+
…Time.
+
Jon felt the warm rough passes of Spencer’s tongue against his cheek. Over his forehead. Along his chin. Cleaning the traces of his release from Jon’s face.
“Fuckin’ love you.” Spencer purred into Jon’s ear, nuzzling almost gently against his cheek.
His fingers tore at his own thigh, nails digging in hard and pulling red to the surface.
Spencer’s laugh was dark and rich against his mouth, swallowing the taste and texture of the kiss and come, passing it to Jon like some rich exotic candy.
Jon gasped into Spencer’s mouth and barely felt himself come.
+
The endings of stories always mark the summation of a story.
+
Jon didn’t know when it would end.
Didn’t know when the scars and the marks would fade.
He hoped that when those faded that it wouldn’t mark the end of this season.
Spencer rolled over, arm clamping around his waist. “You think too fuckin’ loud. Shut up and sleep.”
“Start of a new day.” Ryan mumbled from under Brendon’s arm.
Jon watched the sky burn in red and orange banners. He and Brendon exchanged sleepy smiles while Spencer’s arm tightened a little more.
It was almost too much.
Almost.
+
The endings sometimes meant that it was a beginning.
And sometimes the ending just meant that it started over again.
Growing into something else.
fin
Fandom: panic!at the disco
Pairings: ryan ross/brendon urie/spencer smith/jon walker
Rating: nc-17 [so so so… nc-17]
Disclaimer: all true. yup. all of it. except where it's not. which is all of it.
Author's notes: written for addictedkitten because she requested a ficlet of a drunk girl. She requested “p!atd gsf, dirty dirty porn gangbang”. *facepalm* this turned into a pwp with a theme. or something. thank you to my beta tobyzantium. she cheerleaded and then said she needed alone time. any other mistakes are mine and pete wentz's. why pete? why not?
the composition of an epic in progress
Every story has a beginning.
+
Ryan twisted valiantly, urging Brendon on, urging him to go faster, harder, deeper.
Fasterharderdeeper
Jon pressed the back of his head against the headboard. Wondering not for the first time that day, night, hour… year - how the fuck had he gotten here? Gotten this?
“Fuck you,” Ryan grunted, nails dragging red lines on Brendon’s hip, yanking him forward.
Brendon’s smile was feral, a white thing in the shades of gray and black. He swiped a hand through the sheen of sweat and come on Ryan’s back. “Doing that. Fuckin’ slut. Say it. Say you love this.” He punctuated each sentence with a sharp rolling thrust.
Ryan’s eyes fluttered close and his nails dug into Brendon’s skin for more purchase.
Spencer smiled, not as feral but just as dangerous, at Jon. “Get up,” he grated out. Voice husky and well used, Jon’s cock remembered the feel of that throat and voice wrapping around it.
Jon shivered and obeyed, knees slipping on the damp and wrecked sheets. “What now?” He wished there was more to his voice other than complete capitulation. He groaned feeling Spencer’s mouth ghost down his side, skin tingling anew at the rough scrape of teeth and slightly chapped lips. “Don’t… fuck. I can’t again, Spence. No way.” He said laughing weakly.
His body was the ultimate betrayer, twitching and hardening. The want clawed at his belly again. How had he become so in tune with this, with them so quickly, Jon would never know.
Didn’t know if he wanted to know.
+
Sometimes the beginning was the end and the end was the beginning.
+
Spencer’s mouth closed hot and wet around his dick, sucking it to hardness.
Jon’s hips jerked forward, glad that Spencer wasn’t singing or speaking tomorrow. Drummers had that luxury.
Spencer scraped his teeth up along the underside, heat and pain skittering up Jon’s spine. “Holy fuck,” he gasped and grabbed a fistful of Spencer’s hair, uncaring if it hurt.
Brendon’s laugh sounded loud and too close. Spencer pushed Jon back against the mattress, fingers pressing into well used muscle. Jon’s eyes rolled back into his head and he jerked up as those fingers brushed knowingly against his prostate. “Could fuckin’ find that thing in the dark.” Spencer muttered wickedly.
Jon’s cock throbbed, painfully hard now. His hips twitched up, pushing down and back against the fingers. He didn’t beg; he knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Brendon and Spencer were running the show. Both Jon and Ryan knew that. Ryan was more vocal against it; Jon had learned if he was a good little boy, they’d let him come.
On their own time, but he’d get to come.
+
Ouroboros. Cyclical. Neverending. Repetition.
+
Brendon pulled out of Ryan. Ryan whined and pushed back trying to keep Brendon there. All that got him was a hard slap on the thigh. “You’ll get more. Don’t worry.”
Jon’s breath stuttered a little when Spencer slicked a condom on him the same time Brendon pushed into him roughly. “Shit,” he groaned and arched.
Spencer’s leaned down to kiss Jon hard, teeth adding another bruise on top of earlier ones. “You love this.” He said tugging Ryan forward for a kiss as well. Jon listened to Spencer and Ryan kiss above him, mouths greedy and wet.
Jon’s eyes closed. Too much. Too fucking much.
Spencer murmured something low and soft into his ear, finally pushing Ryan away, calculating laugh underneath it. Jon twisted back onto Brendon’s cock, trying to pull him deeper. Jon gasped feeling Spencer’s teeth sink into the soft skin of his neck just as Spencer pushed Ryan on top of him.
Ryan’s mewl and Jon’s own groan echoed loudly in the dark room.
+
To me the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the music the words make. - Truman Capote
+
Brendon grunted, hips pounding bruisingly hard against Jon’s thighs. Jon spread his legs obscenely, draping over the edge of the bed as Brendon fucked him. Ryan rocked on top of him, taking just as greedily as Brendon and Spencer had before.
Spencer’s breaths seemed to echo louder than any of the other’s, next to Jon. The overly loud rasp of wet skin against wet sweat slick fingers made Jon turn his head, mouth opening trying to taste the music of the sounds.
Jon felt Brendon’s fingers dig into his hip, heard Ryan’s answering cry knowing Brendon’s hand had fisted Ryan’s cock finally. He heard and felt the thrust that marked Brendon’s coming. He squeezed down a little maliciously, smirking when Brendon cursed loudly and raked his nails down Jon’s thigh.
“Naughty,” Spencer rasped, stripping his cock faster, dark and glistening with wet. Jon moaned opening his mouth again.
Ryan twisted needily in Jon’s lap, rocking faster. Brendon’s hand still stroking Ryan lazily. He bent close to Ryan’s ear and whispered his permission.
Jon felt the warm spatter of Ryan’s come on his chest and it made him twist, jerking his hips higher.
+
Once upon a…
+
Jon watched, dazed and still painfully hard, as Brendon dragged Ryan’s pliant body off to the other bed.
They looked warm and sated, twining around each other. Jon had a hard time distinguishing where one of them began and the other ended.
Jon tipped his head back when Spencer’s fingers tangled in his hair dragging his gaze up to watch Spencer stroke himself.
There was a soft sound. A pleading one. A wanting one.
Jon swallowed, realizing it was his own. He closed his eyes and heard and felt the mark of Spencer’s release.
On his face.
+
…Time.
+
Jon felt the warm rough passes of Spencer’s tongue against his cheek. Over his forehead. Along his chin. Cleaning the traces of his release from Jon’s face.
“Fuckin’ love you.” Spencer purred into Jon’s ear, nuzzling almost gently against his cheek.
His fingers tore at his own thigh, nails digging in hard and pulling red to the surface.
Spencer’s laugh was dark and rich against his mouth, swallowing the taste and texture of the kiss and come, passing it to Jon like some rich exotic candy.
Jon gasped into Spencer’s mouth and barely felt himself come.
+
The endings of stories always mark the summation of a story.
+
Jon didn’t know when it would end.
Didn’t know when the scars and the marks would fade.
He hoped that when those faded that it wouldn’t mark the end of this season.
Spencer rolled over, arm clamping around his waist. “You think too fuckin’ loud. Shut up and sleep.”
“Start of a new day.” Ryan mumbled from under Brendon’s arm.
Jon watched the sky burn in red and orange banners. He and Brendon exchanged sleepy smiles while Spencer’s arm tightened a little more.
It was almost too much.
Almost.
+
The endings sometimes meant that it was a beginning.
And sometimes the ending just meant that it started over again.
Growing into something else.
fin