fic: all downhill from here, p!atd
Title: All Downhill from Here
Author: Me, llama_sama
Pairing/Fandom: Ryan/Brendon [ Panic! At the Disco ]
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: I own their souls, yo.
Notes: Smut. Ryan has a hat fetish.
On the final day of shooting the video, there wasn’t much left that needed to be done on Brendon’s part. In fact, there was nothing that really needed to be done on Panic! At the Disco’s part, so the band just sort of dispersed while the director filmed the ending, with the fire and hula hoops.
Brendon rather liked the hula hoops, but when he was reaching to pick one up, there was the director, gently swatting his hand way.
“You can go upstairs and change if you would like; we won’t need you for the rest of the evening.”
“No, that’s okay; I rather like this get-up…”
“Okay, well, go inside anyway,” and he was quickly ushered into the house, only to be left alone again.
Brendon looked around, surveying the room that was supposed to imitate a small chapel.
A rather creepy one at that.
Brendon was now remembering something Ryan had said the first day of filming.
‘This is the house they filmed The Devil’s Rejects in!’
The top-hat wearing boy reflected on this thought and shuddered. He hadn’t seen the movie, but he knew the premise of it: people were murdered.
In this same house.
Sure, it was only a movie, but who’s not to say real murders weren’t committed in this house? Brendon would not have been surprised if that were the case.
He sauntered up the steps, wasting as much time as possible, seeing as he didn’t have anything to do for the next few hours. He brushed his glove-clad hand on the railing and inspected the dust on it. Someone really needed to come in and dust this house.
Brendon got over the dirty railing and decided to sit down on one of the steps, ignoring the fact that they were probably dirtier than the railing. He set the cane down on the step below his feet, followed by his gloves.
He sat there silently, hands tucked beneath his thighs to keep warm, hoping that he wouldn’t get splinters afterward. He could hear people shouting outside, and saw a bright colour peeking through the window. He hoped that the house wouldn’t be burned down, especially considering that he was inside.
‘Yeah, the whole band thing would kind of suck without the lead singer.’
Still thinking these thoughts, he didn’t notice the pair of familiar arms snaking around his waist and pulling him close, back now pressed flush against their chest.
Brendon’s body tensed up and he looked over his shoulder at the figure behind him.
“Ryan, what are you…” he was cut off by Ryan pressing his lips against Brendon’s, catching him off-guard, mouth parted in mid sentence. Brendon’s eyes widened, but he made no move to pull away, instead, leaning into the kiss, relaxing in the awkward embrace.
When they broke apart for air, Brendon was panting slightly, thick lashes brushing against his cheeks. He could feel something prodding his lower back, and felt butterflies flapping in his stomach.
“Brendon, wanna… wanna go back to the dressing room?” Ryan asked, voice thick with lust. He wasn’t sure why he was so turned on at the moment, for there were quite a few factors. Maybe it was Brendon’s get-up the director asked him to wear, maybe it was seeing the singer basically groping the other characters; he didn’t know.
All Ryan knew was that it wasn’t the first time he had had impure thoughts about the singer. But knowing they could finally have some alone time, he decided to make his move. He grinned when Brendon nodded and pulled him to his feet, leaving the cane and gloves abandoned on the stairwell.
Brendon had never been very coordinated, so the idea of being attached to Ryan’s mouth and walking-backwards, no less-was not something he ever really imagined doing. Well, that wasn’t entirely true.
While trying to breathe, walk and kiss, Brendon tripped over one of the camera bags that had been left in the hallway. He felt himself begin to fall, but he felt those same arms slipping around his waist to steady him and pull him close. He felt his back hit the wooden door though, and let out a small grunt.
Ryan didn’t let the door stop them; he let his right hand feel for the knob before twisting it open and pushing Brendon into the room.
As soon as both boys were in the room, the door was slammed and locked and Brendon was back against the wall, Ryan’s tongue in his mouth.
Brendon let his hands trail down to Ryan’s belt, fumbling to remove it, and then quickly moving to unbutton the pants.
Ryan followed, frantically working at the zipper and pushing the pants down Brendon’s waist, boxers going with. He pulled back a little so Brendon could step out of his pants. All the while, the singer was tugging at the guitarist’s own belt loops, pants slipping down slender hips.
Once both boys’ lower halves were ridden of their cotton restrictions, Ryan was back, body pressed flush against Brendon’s.
Brendon leaned forward, capturing Ryan’s lips once more, slipping his tongue into the other boy’s mouth.
Ryan grinded his hips into the singer’s, eliciting a small moan from him.
The guitarist pulled away as he replaced his lips with his index finger, and Brendon, without missing a beat, placed his lips around the digit, playfully brushing his tongue against it, beginning to coat it with saliva. He followed the same procedure when Ryan presented him with another finger.
Just watching Brendon caused a slight growl to erupt from his throat. The sight alone was erotic.
Feeling his cock twitch, he knew he couldn’t wait much longer. He slipped his fingers out of the wet cavern and let his hand drop, first raising one of Brendon’s legs and placing it on his hip, and then positioned them at Brendon’s entrance.
Ryan inserted a finger and heard Brendon gasp. The singer gripped Ryan’s shoulders, nails forming crescent moons in the pale flesh. This was followed by a second finger, and Brendon shifted slightly, arching his back. He let out a small moan as he grew accustomed to the digits stretching him.
The guitarist inserted a third finger, and began scissoring the singer, further stretching him.
This didn’t last long as Ryan quickly pulled his fingers out and placed himself at Brendon’s entrance. To make it more comfortable, he placed Brendon’s other leg on his hip as well.
Brendon gasped as Ryan entered him, but it was muffled by a pair of lips pressed against his. They remained like that for a few moments, allowing the singer to adjust to the intrusion. Soon, though, the older boy began moving, rocking his hips into the other boy’s.
Brendon let out a small groan, pulling away from Ryan, mouth hanging open slightly and eyelids fluttering shut. Unconsciously, he licked his lips, letting out another breathy moan.
Ryan leaned forward, placing wet kisses along his clavicle, path leading to Brendon’s jaw line, and began sucking on the tender flesh there. He pulled away to admire his handiwork and blew on it, liking the way Brendon shuddered at the sudden cool.
Ryan knew the other boy was getting close by the way he felt Brendon’s ankles lock around his waist and pull him closer, burying him deep inside of the slightly younger boy.
He felt Brendon’s muscles grow spasmodic, and could tell that he was close. Ryan decided to help him reach his zenith, hand gripping and tugging on his length, causing the boy to writhe and moan, arch his back and grip Ryan’s hair.
A few more tugs and Brendon was seeing stars, muscles tightening as he all-but screamed Ryan’s name.
Ryan followed close behind.
Spent and panting, they remained like that for a while, Ryan’s forehead resting on Brendon’s shoulder, both bodies now covered in a thin layer of sweat.
The calm was soon followed by an incredulous, “Holy shit. Was that hat on the whole time?”
Author: Me, llama_sama
Pairing/Fandom: Ryan/Brendon [ Panic! At the Disco ]
Rating: NC-17.
Disclaimer: I own their souls, yo.
Notes: Smut. Ryan has a hat fetish.
On the final day of shooting the video, there wasn’t much left that needed to be done on Brendon’s part. In fact, there was nothing that really needed to be done on Panic! At the Disco’s part, so the band just sort of dispersed while the director filmed the ending, with the fire and hula hoops.
Brendon rather liked the hula hoops, but when he was reaching to pick one up, there was the director, gently swatting his hand way.
“You can go upstairs and change if you would like; we won’t need you for the rest of the evening.”
“No, that’s okay; I rather like this get-up…”
“Okay, well, go inside anyway,” and he was quickly ushered into the house, only to be left alone again.
Brendon looked around, surveying the room that was supposed to imitate a small chapel.
A rather creepy one at that.
Brendon was now remembering something Ryan had said the first day of filming.
‘This is the house they filmed The Devil’s Rejects in!’
The top-hat wearing boy reflected on this thought and shuddered. He hadn’t seen the movie, but he knew the premise of it: people were murdered.
In this same house.
Sure, it was only a movie, but who’s not to say real murders weren’t committed in this house? Brendon would not have been surprised if that were the case.
He sauntered up the steps, wasting as much time as possible, seeing as he didn’t have anything to do for the next few hours. He brushed his glove-clad hand on the railing and inspected the dust on it. Someone really needed to come in and dust this house.
Brendon got over the dirty railing and decided to sit down on one of the steps, ignoring the fact that they were probably dirtier than the railing. He set the cane down on the step below his feet, followed by his gloves.
He sat there silently, hands tucked beneath his thighs to keep warm, hoping that he wouldn’t get splinters afterward. He could hear people shouting outside, and saw a bright colour peeking through the window. He hoped that the house wouldn’t be burned down, especially considering that he was inside.
‘Yeah, the whole band thing would kind of suck without the lead singer.’
Still thinking these thoughts, he didn’t notice the pair of familiar arms snaking around his waist and pulling him close, back now pressed flush against their chest.
Brendon’s body tensed up and he looked over his shoulder at the figure behind him.
“Ryan, what are you…” he was cut off by Ryan pressing his lips against Brendon’s, catching him off-guard, mouth parted in mid sentence. Brendon’s eyes widened, but he made no move to pull away, instead, leaning into the kiss, relaxing in the awkward embrace.
When they broke apart for air, Brendon was panting slightly, thick lashes brushing against his cheeks. He could feel something prodding his lower back, and felt butterflies flapping in his stomach.
“Brendon, wanna… wanna go back to the dressing room?” Ryan asked, voice thick with lust. He wasn’t sure why he was so turned on at the moment, for there were quite a few factors. Maybe it was Brendon’s get-up the director asked him to wear, maybe it was seeing the singer basically groping the other characters; he didn’t know.
All Ryan knew was that it wasn’t the first time he had had impure thoughts about the singer. But knowing they could finally have some alone time, he decided to make his move. He grinned when Brendon nodded and pulled him to his feet, leaving the cane and gloves abandoned on the stairwell.
Brendon had never been very coordinated, so the idea of being attached to Ryan’s mouth and walking-backwards, no less-was not something he ever really imagined doing. Well, that wasn’t entirely true.
While trying to breathe, walk and kiss, Brendon tripped over one of the camera bags that had been left in the hallway. He felt himself begin to fall, but he felt those same arms slipping around his waist to steady him and pull him close. He felt his back hit the wooden door though, and let out a small grunt.
Ryan didn’t let the door stop them; he let his right hand feel for the knob before twisting it open and pushing Brendon into the room.
As soon as both boys were in the room, the door was slammed and locked and Brendon was back against the wall, Ryan’s tongue in his mouth.
Brendon let his hands trail down to Ryan’s belt, fumbling to remove it, and then quickly moving to unbutton the pants.
Ryan followed, frantically working at the zipper and pushing the pants down Brendon’s waist, boxers going with. He pulled back a little so Brendon could step out of his pants. All the while, the singer was tugging at the guitarist’s own belt loops, pants slipping down slender hips.
Once both boys’ lower halves were ridden of their cotton restrictions, Ryan was back, body pressed flush against Brendon’s.
Brendon leaned forward, capturing Ryan’s lips once more, slipping his tongue into the other boy’s mouth.
Ryan grinded his hips into the singer’s, eliciting a small moan from him.
The guitarist pulled away as he replaced his lips with his index finger, and Brendon, without missing a beat, placed his lips around the digit, playfully brushing his tongue against it, beginning to coat it with saliva. He followed the same procedure when Ryan presented him with another finger.
Just watching Brendon caused a slight growl to erupt from his throat. The sight alone was erotic.
Feeling his cock twitch, he knew he couldn’t wait much longer. He slipped his fingers out of the wet cavern and let his hand drop, first raising one of Brendon’s legs and placing it on his hip, and then positioned them at Brendon’s entrance.
Ryan inserted a finger and heard Brendon gasp. The singer gripped Ryan’s shoulders, nails forming crescent moons in the pale flesh. This was followed by a second finger, and Brendon shifted slightly, arching his back. He let out a small moan as he grew accustomed to the digits stretching him.
The guitarist inserted a third finger, and began scissoring the singer, further stretching him.
This didn’t last long as Ryan quickly pulled his fingers out and placed himself at Brendon’s entrance. To make it more comfortable, he placed Brendon’s other leg on his hip as well.
Brendon gasped as Ryan entered him, but it was muffled by a pair of lips pressed against his. They remained like that for a few moments, allowing the singer to adjust to the intrusion. Soon, though, the older boy began moving, rocking his hips into the other boy’s.
Brendon let out a small groan, pulling away from Ryan, mouth hanging open slightly and eyelids fluttering shut. Unconsciously, he licked his lips, letting out another breathy moan.
Ryan leaned forward, placing wet kisses along his clavicle, path leading to Brendon’s jaw line, and began sucking on the tender flesh there. He pulled away to admire his handiwork and blew on it, liking the way Brendon shuddered at the sudden cool.
Ryan knew the other boy was getting close by the way he felt Brendon’s ankles lock around his waist and pull him closer, burying him deep inside of the slightly younger boy.
He felt Brendon’s muscles grow spasmodic, and could tell that he was close. Ryan decided to help him reach his zenith, hand gripping and tugging on his length, causing the boy to writhe and moan, arch his back and grip Ryan’s hair.
A few more tugs and Brendon was seeing stars, muscles tightening as he all-but screamed Ryan’s name.
Ryan followed close behind.
Spent and panting, they remained like that for a while, Ryan’s forehead resting on Brendon’s shoulder, both bodies now covered in a thin layer of sweat.
The calm was soon followed by an incredulous, “Holy shit. Was that hat on the whole time?”