BS: Panic GSF: Adult: Overcome
Title: Overcome
Fandom: Bandslash, Panic At The Disco
Characters/Pairing: Panic GSF
Rating: Adult, very, very adult. Trust me on this one. Very, very, very adult.
Word Count: 8331
Warning: ( skip) Kink: Gangbang, Kink: Snowballing, Kink: Barebacking, Kink: Fingering, Kink: Overstimulation, Kink: Rimming/Felching, Kink: Orgasm Denial, Kink: Facials
Disclaimer: This is a fictional story about characters based, in part, on the images and histories of real people. If that bothers you and/or you are one of those people, you probably don't want to read this. No harm is intended; no profit is being made.
Summary: "One of them is going to ask him the question soon, and he already knows the answer."
Author's Notes: This is a kink bingo story.
Brendon was reasonably certain that normal bands didn’t celebrate their birthdays this way, but, then again, he was also reasonably certain that normal bands didn’t screw each other senseless as often as possible.
There was a reason Spencer had instituted the two-penetration rule for nights preceding shows. None of them were on their best form when they’d been the center of a very focused and willing gangbang the night before, but Brendon and Spencer were practically non-functional by the very nature of their roles in the band.
That’s okay though, Brendon thinks, it makes special occasions and time off more special because they all know what one of their gifts will be.
Brendon knows, knows that they’re going to torture him, going to use him, going to worship him, and he can’t wait, even though he knows he’s going to beg them a thousand times to let him come before they finally do, that he’s probably going to cry with the relief of it when they finally tell him it’s okay, but it’s going to be so worth it. Going to be worth every excruciating minute of it.
He’s bouncing on his feet, shifting his weight, jittery. It’s taking them forever to check in, and it’s not fair, this is his night and he’d like to get started already, if they don’t mind. Jon reaches out, wraps his strong fingers around one of Brendon’s wrists and, just like that, it’s on.
They’re still in the lobby, bookbags slung over their shoulders, too public to do anything, but Jon’s wrapped his fingers around Brendon’s wrist, rubs one calloused fingertip over the pulse-point there, and Brendon stills immediately.
He just stands there calm, ready, turned the fuck on. His hard-on is pressing against the slick fabric of his dress pants, and he hadn’t bothered with underwear after his shower, so there’s obviously a bulge. He might have been embarrassed, but he’s pretty well covered by his guys and Zack and the rest of their crew and, even if someone had noticed, what’s the worst they could have said? Lead singer gets hard-on! Surely that’s not news. Isn’t that implied with dick-ownership?
Jon tugs lightly on his wrist, and it’s time to go; they’ve finally got keys; it’s finally Brendon’s turn. They get on the elevator together; Zack’s still sorting out the rest of the guys, and they’ve got four keys between them to two different rooms, but even Zack doesn’t expect them to use the second room as any thing other than an extra shower.
Spencer leads the way off of the elevator, the first to get to their room, the first to open the door. They all pile through the door, dropping their bags just inside, and Brendon pushes past everyone, pulling his shirt over his head as he goes, “It’s MY turn.”
Spencer looks at him thoughtfully and turns to Ryan, “Is it? Do you remember anything about it being Brendon’s turn? I don’t.”
Ryan looks bored, but he’s unbuckling his belt when he says, “No, I think I’d remember something like that. I think he’s just trying to get special treatment.”
Jon laughs, the sound muffled by the shirt he’s pulling over his head, “Oh, he’s definitely trying to get special treatment.”
Brendon’s already toed off his shoes, and he’s trying to hop around and get his socks off as he says, “Come on guys, that’s not funny. You know it’s my turn. It’s my birthday!”
Spencer laughs as Brendon pitches to the left and catches himself against the bed, then says, “Well, I suppose if it’s your birthday we’ll have to do something.”
And it’s Ryan, who comes up behind Spencer, hooks his chin over Spencer’s shoulder, wraps his arms around Spencer’s waist and smiles evilly as he says, “Or do someone.”
Jon, because he is the bestest ever, is the first one to get naked (besides Brendon, but everyone know Brendon doesn’t count). Brendon already skims as close to the naked line as he can, it’s never a surprise when he strips out of his clothes in the first thirty seconds.
Ryan gets sidetracked from his own nakedness by Spencer’s dick--which isn’t even fair because if anyone should be allowed to be sidetracked by Spencer’s dick it’s definitely Brendon. He’s the birthday boy; he should get all the cocks tonight. He says that too, and Ryan reluctantly pulls his hand out of Spencer’s half-opened pants and peels himself off of Spencer’s back to carefully strip the rest of his clothes off.
Finally, finally they’re all naked and Brendon is on the bed, propping himself up on one elbow as he watches them. One of them is going to ask him the question soon, and he already knows the answer. Jon is slow and lazy; Ryan is sort of aimless but so filling, and Spencer is all driven and purposeful. And that’s the order he thinks he wants them in, though he’s not going to get to pick that, just who goes first.
Ryan looks at him, his eyes almost black, and as he starts to open his mouth, Brendon says, “Jon. But I want you to finger me.”
Ryan arches an eyebrow, smiling as he says, “Awfully demanding. Sounds like someone’s been thinking about this.”
“Fuck you Ross, you know the last time it was your turn you practically had a script!” Brendon’s a little huffy as he says it, but everyone knows he doesn’t mean it. Well, the bit about the script, yeah, but he’s not actually upset, just turned on and he’s been thinking about this for a while.
Spencer hasn’t said anything, he’s just lightly stroking his own cock, but at Brendon’s remark he steps forward, motions at Brendon to roll over. Brendon does, getting on his hands and knees, not at all surprised when Spencer clambers onto the bed in front of him and urges him forward. He’s already hard, they all are; Brendon isn’t the only one who’s been thinking about this, planning it, looking forward to it.
Brendon leans forward, nuzzles along the line of Spencer’s hip, licking and biting gently until Spencer drops one hand into his hair and lightly tugs. Brendon moans a little because this is what he wants: to be the focus, to be the one giving them pleasure, to know that they want him, love him.
He grasps Spencer’s dick in one hand and noses along it, licking at it with tiny little strokes as he works to taste every available inch of it. Spencer’s unmoving, staring down at Brendon with eyes too blue. Brendon hasn’t forgotten the other guys, they’re still there, he can feel their eyes on him. He arches his back and looks up from under the fringe of his hair for them; he knows that he looks good like this, but he’s focused on Spencer, on the musky smell and taste of him, of the warm, solid feel of him under Brendon. Brendon starts slowly stroking Spencer’s dick and noses below it, to his balls, sucking one in, rolling it in his mouth, ever-so-lightly scraping his teeth across it, feeling rewarded by the roll and arch of Spencer’s hips.
He’s still proud of himself when he feels someone else’s hand in his hair, feels them pull him back, off of Spencer’s dick. He tries to keep his hand moving even as he lets his head be pulled back, Spencer’s balls falling out of his mouth with a slick wet popping sound. It’s Ryan, his long fingers twisted into Brendon’s hair, and Brendon smiles at him, happy to be here, happy to see him. Ryan smiles back and leans down, kisses Brendon still holding his head up off of Spencer. They’re kissing, sloppy and wet because of the angle, their lips not sealing fully and Brendon knows how they must look to Spencer, their tongues visible as they stroke and twine around each other.
When Spencer groans Ryan pulls back, smiles beatifically at them both, and then drops onto the bed beside Brendon. Brendon, his mouth feeling swollen already, licks at the salty pre-come that’s collected on the head of Spencer’s dick, sliding his tongue into the slit there, chasing the taste of it. He’s mouthing sloppily at the head of Spencer’s cock, mostly just getting it wet, just letting Spencer know he’s still here, when he feels strong fingers grip his hips and pull, his ass going higher in the air, on display. And, oh, fuck. He hadn’t thought this through enough apparently, hadn’t said the right things, because he knows those fingers, knows that grip, and he’s never going to make it. He’s supposed to try to make through all of them, at least once, but Jon’s starting. Jon’s starting and not in the way that Brendon meant.
The first wet-cool slick of Jon’s tongue over his ass is enough to make Brendon moan, to force him to pull off of Spencer’s cock for a moment. Jon is a slow lazy fuck, but he’s single-minded rimmer. He acts like he’s got nothing else to do, in this life or the next, but lick and tongue the fuck out of whoever he’s with, and Brendon hadn’t counted on that. He rocks backwards, pushing his hips into Jon’s hands, pushing his ass closer to that mouth, and Brendon can feel as well as hear Jon’s chuckle.
Brendon’s still trying to acclimate, his cock throbbing hotly, when Jon swipes his tongue across his hole again and there’s nothing Brendon wants more in this moment than this. That is until Ryan smiles at him, slides down so his face is level with Brendon’s, next to Spencer’s hips, and then snakes one of his hands down to take hold of Brendon, to start stroking him so slowly. Jon chooses that moment to stiffen his tongue, to start prodding lightly at the ring of muscle in Brendon’s ass, and it’s almost too much; he almost comes then. He groans and doesn’t know what to do; he shudders between them, Ryan’s hand on his dick, Jon’s tongue in his ass, and his face smashed into the cradle of Spencer’s pelvis, his nose practically touching Spencer’s dick. He feels bad about that; he’s not doing a very good job at the whole blowjob thing, and the next time he feels Jon swipe his tongue flatly across his hole, Brendon also licks out, swiping his tongue halfway around the shaft of Spencer’s dick, causing them both to moan. Ryan smiles at that and moves so that he can help, and they lie there, their heads holding Spencer’s hips still as they and tease at his cock with only their tongues.
Brendon feels Spencer’s hand in his hair at the same time he sees Spencer’s strong fingers start carding through Ryan’s soft curls, and Brendon is so content in this moment, so settled. This is his favorite thing: the way they are all connected in this, together. They stay that way for a few more moments, then Spencer pulls at their heads, forcing them off of him, and he guides Brendon back to his cock. Now it’s easier, Brendon’s settled into the rhythm of Jon’s tongue against him, inside him, and he rocks into it, feeling the way that Jon’s prodding and licking at him. On the off beat, he swallows down onto Spencer’s cock, sucking lightly. He’s not really trying to get him to come, but he wants him on the edge. He settles into a rhythm, when he arches back into Jon’s mouth, he licks along the length of Spencer’s dick, when he rocks back down it’s into the tight grip of Ryan’s hand.
Maybe being in a band together is good for all of this, they fall into the pace and rhythm of it easily, keeping time together, the wet slick sounds of their mouths and bodies accompanying their movements.
Brendon can feel the way that Jon’s hands are holding him apart, the slight nudge of his nose as he tries to get closer, the bristle of his beard across the bottom of Brendon’s balls, it’s so much sensation. The slick, wet sounds of his tongue as he licks and strokes and works his way into Brendon. Brendon honestly thinks he could come from this, but that’s not the plan. The plan is for him to take them all--then they’ll take care of him. That’s the plan. He groans a little at the thought, his mouth on Spencer, lightly sucking as he does it, and Spencer groans, says, “Fuck,” bucks his hips up, driving his cock deeper into Brendon’s mouth, glancing off of the soft places at back. Brendon groans again; he can’t help it, he can’t, and Ryan lets go of him, the lost touch makes Brendon whimper and look at him.
Ryan just smiles, runs one hand over the top of Brendon’s head, pausing briefly to tangle with Spencer’s hand, still in Brendon’s hair, then continues down to the nape of his neck to give him a light squeeze.
Then Ryan lets go again and levers himself up.
“Jon, hey. Jon.” Ryan’s voice is amused; Jon is focused on his task, but then he’s gone, hands still holding Brendon open, cool air now making Brendon hyper-aware of how exposed he is, that they can just look at him like that. He drops his head to Spencer’s hip again, lightly tracing his fingers in lines and whorls along the shaft of Spencer’s cock. He knows what’s coming.
Jon lets go of him, murmurs something to Ryan, and then Ryan’s touching him. Fuck, Ryan. Spencer rumbles under him, and he realizes he’d said that aloud. Ryan’s talking again, louder now, loud enough that Brendon can hear him.
“So pretty like this, you know that right? You want it so much, so willing to show us.” He runs one long finger down the line of Brendon’s back, bumping along the vertebrae. “So pretty.” Brendon rocks towards him, trying to arch up into his touch. Ryan pulls his hand away, smacks it lightly against Brendon’s ass. “Don’t forget Spence, he’s been a very good boy too.”
Brendon looks up, sees Spencer roll his eyes as he says, “Fuck you Ryan,” but it doesn’t stop him from using the hand that is still, still tangled in Brendon’s hair to guide Brendon back to his dick. Brendon thinks that Spencer is very patient, very willing to put up with him and how distractible he can be. That’s probably why he’s under Brendon, but Brendon loves him for it, loves that Spencer never complains, just gently reminds Brendon what he was doing before something else caught his attention.
Brendon beams at him and drops down on Spencer’s cock again, going down as far as he can, slowing as he feels Spencer nudge at the back of his throat, as he feels his gag-reflex trying to kick in. Then he keeps going, deliberately relaxing his throat, concentrating at how much he wants this. He’s not as good at this as Spencer is but he can do it, and then he feels the tip of Spencer’s cock nudge its way into his throat, and he relaxes completely, still moving down the line of Spencer’s dick, drooling all along its length as he swallows down it, moving until his nose is buried in the wiry hair covering Spencer’s pubic bone, and fuck, he likes this. All he can taste and feel is Spencer. Spencer bucks gently into him; his fingers tight in Brendon’s hair, pulling slightly; he curses as Brendon pulls off slightly and then works his back down again.
Brendon looks at Spencer then, his mouth stretched around Spencer’s cock, and he sees Spencer bite his lip. Oh. Brendon hopes he doesn’t get in trouble for this; he didn’t mean to, it’s just that Spencer had been so good, was always so good. But he pulls away slightly, still mouthing along the shaft as he retreats, his hand coming up to cover the newly exposed areas, stroking along the length of Spencer’s dick. He’s mouthing at the head of Spencer’s cock, licking at the spot under the head that Spencer enjoys so much, prodding the tip of his tongue into the slit at the top, sucking tightly at the sensitive skin, when Spencer says, “Fuck,” again and then pulls sharply on Brendon’s hair.
Ryan’s hands are still tracing and wending their way along Brendon’s back, and he can feel Jon to the side, just watching for now, Jon likes to watch, but all he can really focus on is the sharp tug and pain of Spencer’s fingers wrapped up in his hair. Spencer pulls him free of his cock and Brendon’s surprised, mouth still hanging wetly open, his eyes wide when Spencer starts to come. The first stripe runs up the column of his throat to his chin and Brendon quickly shuts his eyes. He wants to watch, wants to see Spencer come undone, wants to look down at Spencer as he claims him, but he’s had come in his eyes and it’s really not that much fun.
Instead he just lets Spencer hold his head there, lets his mouth hang open, and he slides his tongue out, chasing a taste of Spencer. Spencer groans again and Brendon tries to duck his head, just a little, just to make the angle better, and Spencer must agree because this time he can feel the slightly sticky fluid hit his cheek, his nose. So close, so close, he’s arching and pulling trying to get closer, but he can’t move, held in place by Ryan at his back and Spencer’s firm grip in his hair. Finally, finally, he can taste the salty, earthy, wonderful taste of Spencer, and Brendon licks his lips, trying to collect as much as he can, rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing.
Ryan smacks him again, still gently, and says, “You realize you’re going to have to wait longer now, right? Because everyone gets a turn.” Brendon nods, the motion pulling his hair tight in Spencer’s grip. He knows; he knows but he doesn’t care, can’t care. He sees Jon standing next to the bed, stroking himself, and Brendon smiles down at Spencer.
Spencer’s looking at him with his eyes narrowed, looking fucking wrecked, and Brendon could really come right now, could come from this, but that’s not what he really wants, not really. It would be nice though. He’d like that. He’s half-heartedly moving one hand towards his cock when Spencer rubs his fingers gently through his hair and then drops his arm back to the bed. Brendon rolls his neck, feels the come sliding on his face and gives up on the thought of touching himself. He wants the taste of Spencer, wants to wipe his face and lick his hand clean, he didn’t get nearly enough before.
Before he can get his hand up to his face, there’s another hand on the back of his neck, turning him to face Jon’s. Jon is smiling as he says, “You missed a spot,” and leans down to swipe his tongue through the mess of come and sweat on Brendon’s face, on his neck. Brendon and Spencer both moan, and Brendon tilts his face up, into the smooth motion of Jon’s tongue. He wants to be jealous because he wanted that, but before he can even complain, Jon’s leaning and sliding his lips over Brendon’s, opening them and pushing his tongue into Brendon’s mouth, Spencer’s come heavy on his tongue. Brendon shudders. This is so, so much better than his plan. Jon pulls back slightly, smiles at him, and Brendon chases after him with his mouth and tongue, there’s more there and he wants that, the taste of Spencer in Jon’s mouth, the taste of himself still on Jon’s tongue and, underneath it all, the taste of Jon.
He doesn’t quite get his mouth sealed to Jon’s before he’s reaching back in with his tongue, pulling more of Spencer’s come into his own mouth. This time it’s Ryan he hears groaning, his long fingers tightening against Brendon’s ass cheeks. Ryan likes to watch too, likes how much Brendon loves their come. But Brendon can’t think about that right now, can’t think about other times they’ve had together, because Jon has something that’s his, and he’s determined to get it, to get it all. He jerks forward, against Ryan’s grip, and gets his free hand wrapped around Jon’s arm, pulls him closer, holds him fast so that he can slide his tongue back in, running it along the wall of Jon’s teeth before dipping behind and under to get at more of Spencer’s come. It doesn’t take long before Jon just tastes like himself, rich and unmistakable.
Jon pulls back then, smiling at Brendon, who lets his head fall back onto Spencer, resting for a minute, knowing that it drives his ass back into Ryan. Ryan stops idly running his finger along the crease of Brendon’s ass and finally slides a finger between his cheeks, dragging it along the sensitive skin there. Brendon gasps when the warm pad of Ryan’s finger catches slightly on the skin of his hole; he wants more, wants this.
Ryan chuckles, and pulls his finger away. Brendon’s about to whine, willing to beg for it at this point, when he feels Ryan grip his cheeks in his palms and pull them apart. Brendon feels so exposed, and he loves it. Loves the way he knows he most look, so eager for it, so ready. His cock twitches, and he wants to touch himself but he can’t, can’t without risking coming and that would be bad.
He makes a little whimpering sound and then it breaks off, turns into a groan, when he feels the damp, warm glide of Ryan’s tongue between the valley created by his asscheeks. Brendon can see Jon lean down over Spencer, can see them start to kiss, but Spencer still brings one hand up to stroke gently at the back of his neck and this is great. Brendon’s warm and content and Ryan’s slowly licking his way into his ass, and life is wonderful.
Jon climbs onto the bed neck to Spencer, still kissing him, and now his cock is right there, so close, and Jon was so wonderful, so Brendon reaches out a hand, starts to slowly stroke him, and this is even better than before. Then Ryan pulls back slowly, his tongue sliding free of Brendon’s body, and he just aches for it, wants it so much, wants to be full, is so, so ready to be filled. He knows better than to complain, because Ryan’s a fucking tease, but he says, “Yes” when Ryan eases one finger just barely into Brendon, rubbing around the lip of Brendon’s asshole, testing the stretch of his skin. Brendon bucks into it; wanting more; wanting the whole finger; wanting two or three fingers; wanting Ryan’s cock, long like his fingers, filling him up, making him gasp with the sensation, but it’s not time yet, not yet.
Brendon’s so ready, god he wants to come, and he’s still got one hand on Jon’s dick where he’s half-heartedly stroking, more to keep him on the brink than anything else; he doesn’t want to make him come, not yet. Brendon doesn’t think he could survive that.
Ryan’s found some lube somewhere, or maybe Jon did earlier; Brendon doesn’t know where it comes from, but Ryan’s fingers are definitely slick with something other than his saliva when he slides a second one in along side the first, hooking them slightly and gently tugging at Brendon’s ass. God, fuck. Ryan is the best at this (not just because he can reach Brendon’s prostate so easily, when he feels like it), but because he’s so focused: he watches everything, seems to get lost in it. He tugs at Brendon in a rhythm: once, twice, twist, slide, tug, tug, twist, slide... Brendon’s rocking back and forth, his dick swinging slightly with the motion of his body, and he starts keeping counterpoint on Jon’s dick. Spencer is still underneath them, his cock still soft, but only just. He’s starting to stiffen, and Brendon knows it won’t be too much longer before he’s ready again. The thought of it makes him smile, and he gives it a quick lick and then blows across the moistened flesh, smiling widely at Spencer’s jerk.
Something about the change in the rhythm below him must alert Ryan because he stops and slides his fingers out, slicks them up again and then slides back in, this time with three, and god, fuck, yes, that’s what Brendon’s been waiting for. He can feel the slight burn of the stretch and the ache of emptiness, worse now that he’s getting only part of what he wants. He needs to be fucked, needs some one’s cock inside of him driving into him as they hold on to him, needs it and doesn’t even realize he’s saying it, until Jon says, “Shh, shh, soon. You’re almost ready.”
Jon palms his cheek and Brendon turns his face into it, presses a kiss to the skin there, and then tries to settle. Ryan’s stroking lightly at his prostate now, making Brendon keen and whimper, he wants this, fuck he wants thi,s and then Ryan pulls free and strokes his slick hand over Brendon’s ass cheek, says, “Hush now, it’s time,” and fuck, yes, finally.
Jon kisses Spencer once more, lazy and content, and then stands up. Ryan’s weight is also coming off the bed, and it’s just Brendon and Spencer, and Brendon is suddenly aware, without all the extra stimulation, that his legs ache from holding this position, that his back is just a little bit sore, that he’d really like to stretch. Because Spencer is magic like that, he seems to notice and he grabs Brendon’s wrist and tugs until Brendon is forced up the length of him, his cock dragging against Spencer’s leg, finally nestling into the joint of Spencer’s hips, and Brendon tries very hard to hold still. He could just jerk once, twice, maybe five times, and then he could be coming, smearing his come between them, sticking them together.
Spencer kisses him breathless and then rolls them over. Brendon can feel the stretch and give of his muscles and this is good, better, and he can feel Spencer, hard now, against him, and he wants this. But Jon says, “Hey Dude,” and Spencer pulls away, dropping one last kiss onto Brendon’s nose before he does, and then Jon’s there; Jon’s kissing him, reaching a hand between them to guide himself into Brendon and it’s gentle, slow, and perfect.
Brendon can feel every millimeter of him as Jon slides in, and Jon doesn’t stop until his balls are flush against Brendon’s ass. Brendon brings his legs up, wraps them around Jon and just settles in. He pointedly doesn’t touch himself, instead he flails his arms out to his sides, looking for something to hold on to, to help him hold on, and Ryan is to his right now, Brendon in the middle of their bed. Ryan grasps his wrist, pulls his hand down to his cock, and, okay, that’s something Brendon can hold onto. He laughs at the thought, his body shaking, and Jon makes a surprised noise and now he’s pulling back out, driving in again. He sets a steady pace and this is why Brendon wanted him first. Jon fucks like he takes pictures, all patience and waiting for the perfect moment. Brendon can settle into Jon, let him take over. He can lose himself in Jon’s rhythm and it helps him hold on longer, helps escape for a little bit how much he needs to come.
His dick is already slick with his precome, and he wants so badly to come, but it’s better this way; he knows it is, he’ll be glad later, he will, he just has to hold on. He strokes Ryan in time with his thoughts, sliding his hand up on “hold”, down on “on”. It means the down stroke is a little fast, but Ryan doesn’t seem to mind.
Spencer’s on his other side, and he’s just been watching, but Ryan gasps after a particularly pointed “on” beat, and he seems to guess something of what Brendon’s doing because he reaches out and runs one palm from Brendon’s collarbone to his pubic bone. He doesn’t touch anything in particular, just provides pressure, just makes Brendon aware he’s there; Brendon rolls his head towards Spencer, his hair a disaster and his lower lip caught between his teeth, and Spencer mutters and pulls his hand away, coming back to pinch at Brendon’s nipple even as Jon thrusts back into him, and Brendon’s whole body arches off the bed his teeth letting go of his lip as he curses.
“Spence, that’s not nice,” says Ryan, but he doesn’t seem particularly concerned. Brendon has to come, he has to, he has to, and he hears himself, his words tripping over themselves on their way out of his mouth, “Please, please, please, Jon, please.”
Spencer turns then looks towards where Jon’s cock is disappearing into Brendon’s ass and says, “Now, Jon.”
Jon grunts, tightens his grip on Brendon’s ass and pulls him up, pulls him closer and just starts driving into him. Brendon’s hand falls off of Ryan’s cock, what little attention he has left focused on the way Jon is moving in him, is using him, he squeezes then, tightening around Jon’s cock, and he feels Jon start to come even before he hears him.
Brendon can feel the warm gush of Jon’s come, filling him, and he arches his head back and he’s going to come, he is, despite the game but before he can start to shoot Spencer’s hand is there, tight around the base of his cock and Brendon can feel the tension build, can feel the way his orgasm strains at the grip, but it’s impossible and he falls back down against the bed, limp. It’s like an orgasm; it’s like coming except for how fucking hard he is, how much he still needs it. But it helps a little, makes it a little easier. He whimpers when Spencer loosens his grip, strokes him gently. He’s still so sensitive; he’s pretty sure he can feel every whorl and line of Spencer’s fingertips as he runs his fingers lightly up Brendon’s dick. Jon is still inside him, moving slightly back and forth, more like he likes the movement than for any explicit purpose. Brendon feels so hot; his skin is too tight, his whole body feels blistered. And slick, fuck. He’s sweating, he knows he is; he can feel little trickles of it moving down his forehead, his neck, his chest. He just lies there for a moment, lets Spencer pet at him and Jon move in him and feels it all.
Then Ryan reaches out and grabs his chin, turns his head, and Brendon looks at him, takes in the sight. Ryan’s cock is hard and flushed, his whole, skinny body is. His hair is curling damply against his forehead and around his ears, and his eyes look black. Brendon wants that, wants Ryan, wants them all. He opens his mouth, still breathing heavily, and Ryan seems to understand, rolls into him and starts kissing him. Ryan’s not as focused as Spencer or as lazy as Jon; he flits between the two. He spends forever tugging on Brendon’s lower lip with his teeth, pulling it into his mouth, worrying at it and then licking it until the blood rushes into it, making it feel twice as big. Brendon lies there and lets them all touch him, use him, take care of him, and he never feels as loved as he does when they’re like this, when he knows that they love him, try to give him the things he wants, think that he deserves them.
He whimpers a little when Ryan’s attentions to his mouth start verging on painful, when Spencer’s hand stroking him, and Jon moving in him is all too much, and he squirms a little. Spencer lets go, says, “Guys.”
Jon pulls out, his cock nearly all the way soft now, and Brendon can both hear and feel the squelching pop of him pulling free. He loves the way his ass feels open still, feels ready still. He can feel the trickle of Jon’s come start to make its way down, and he makes a protesting sound. No, he wants that, wants to keep it.
Ryan’s still kissing him, but properly kissing him now, his tongue in Brendon’s mouth stroking Brendon’s own, teasing and chasing it back and forth between them. He doesn’t know how it happens, but Jon’s gone and Spencer’s between his legs, looking down at how Brendon’s trying to clench himself closed, trying to keep a hold of Jon’s come, and then Spencer slides one finger down, catches the trickle that escaped, pulls it up and licks it clean. Brendon pulls away from Ryan when he feels Spencer’s finger, and he knows he pouts at Spencer. Spencer laughs at him, calls him greedy, but it’s too late because Ryan’s suddenly gone too, joining Spencer at the foot of the bed, trying to elbow him out of the way. “It’s my turn,” Ryan says, “You already got to come once,” and that’s true. Spencer did come, came on Brendon’s face and that was awesome.
Brendon thinks that maybe in retrospect it wasn’t as big a mistake as he thought because now he’s going to get them in the order he wanted.
Spencer lets go of Brendon’s thighs, moves away, and Brendon spares a thought for the bruises he’s going to have tomorrow, all the finger-shaped marks on his hips and thighs from where they’ve been holding him. He barely has a moment to spare for thinking about it before Ryan has succeeded in shoving Spencer out of his way. Ryan must be closer than Brendon realized because he doesn’t so much as pause before he’s sliding two fingers into Brendon and stroking lightly at the patch of nerves inside him. Brendon actually keens, which is not something he generally does in the bedroom, and his hands are shaking where they’re clenching the sheets when Ryan pulls his fingers back out of Brendon’s body.
Ryan is laughing, because he is a heartless and cruel motherfucker, but he’s also sliding into Brendon as he does it. Brendon’s still slightly slick with lube from earlier and he’s definitely still wet with Jon’s come, so Ryan just eases himself in, not even stopping to lube up. Brendon rolls his head from side to side. Ryan likes to wait once he gets in, likes to adjust to the feeling, and Brendon likes it too, likes the way that he feels so fucking full, so stretched and claimed and just completely whole.
Ryan’s fully in him now, his cock feels like it’s halfway up Brendon’s spine; he knows it isn’t, but it feels like it, and it’s a good feeling. Brendon’s a total bottom and he’s happy about that, thanks. Not that he doesn’t like topping, but he loves the feel of someone in him, loves the way it feels like they’re becoming part of him. He’s lying there, just sort of smiling in Ryan’s general direction which is apparently a good thing because Ryan lets go of his hip and wraps those gorgeously long fingers around Brendon’s dick, jerking it lightly. Brendon’s babbling now, things that sound like please and fuck and love and come and now and even he isn’t entirely sure what he’s saying. He looks around for Spencer and Jon, and there they are; Jon wrapped around Spencer’s back, gently tugging on Spencer’s cock as they both stare at him. He opens his mouth, looks at them, wants them, wants them on the bed with him, and maybe something of that desire is on his face because Jon says, “Spence, I think he misses us,” and Brendon says, “yes, yes, yes.” Over and over like it’s his new mantra and maybe it is: saying yes to them has always, always been a good idea.
Jon lets go of Spencer’s dick and moves out from behind him. Jon’s dick is still soft (and it should be, fuck, he just came), but Brendon wishes it was hard because he’d like to be sucking it, would like to be able to do that, especially since Jon’s already come once; it would be okay, would be allowed. Ryan starts moving then, sliding almost all the way out and then gliding back in. Brendon closes his eyes, concentrates on the feeling, and he can tell he’s wet, sloppy inside because sometimes Ryan goes too far, pops out and has to use both hands to get back inside. Ryan’s usually pretty aimless when he’s fucking, it’s like he’s always got another idea he wants to try, and he’s always changing his tempo. Sometimes he twists his hips and sometimes he aims for the prostate and sometimes he just seems to want to find out exactly how deep he can go. It’s perfect because Ryan gets off on it, finding his own rhythm in it all, but Brendon can hold off longer, can wait longer, even though his dick is so hard that he is beginning to wonder if he can come at all or if he’ll always have a raging boner, which would make shows really interesting, actually.
Brendon’s eyes fly open when Ryan’s hand leaves his dick entirely and then there’s a soft, wet press against it. It’s Jon, fucking Jon, smiling at him as he licks Brendon’s cock, and Brendon can’t take it, he can’t. He twitches, jerks away from it, into it. He doesn’t even know what he wants anymore. He wants to come, but if he comes it’ll be too soon; he wants Spencer, wants to come last. He clenches his whole body, desperate to do something, and Ryan says, “Fuck,” and Jon pulls off, and Brendon can feel him. Can feel Ryan, deeper than Jon, coming, can feel the first hot spurt of his come and Brendon involuntarily clenches tighter, hears Ryan’s obscenities. His eyes are clenched tight and Jon’s hand is there, tight around him again, like Spencer’s had been, making him feel like he’s coming-sort-of-except for the parts where he’s soft afterwards, except for the parts where he’s got his own come cooling on his stomach and his whole body is limp and then they cuddle, except for the good parts, it’s like coming.
Brendon sinks into the mattress, his muscles sore and loose from being so tight, and Ryan’s stroking one hand up and down his flank. Spencer’s gotten on the bed at some point because he’s pushing Brendon’s damp sweaty hair off of his forehead, and Jon’s still there, rubbing circles into his stomach now. Fuck, he loves this, loves them. Loves how they take care of each other, loves how they know him.
Jon’s talking, “Good, so fucking good Brendon, almost there, promise.” And Brendon knows he is, it’s just Spence left, and Spencer is nothing if not goal-oriented. And, if the boner Brendon can see out of the corner of his eye is anything to go by, he’s ready to come. He’s not going to fool around, just going to bring them both over the edge as fast as he can. Brendon smiles up at him.
Ryan leans forward, completely ignoring the bodies in his way, sure that they’ll make for him and they do; they always do. He’s still inside Brendon, going soft now, but he leans forward, starting to slip out a little, as he kisses Brendon. It’s a hot, tender kiss. There’s none of the biting and teasing from earlier, just the sweet press of his lips and the warm slide of his tongue. Brendon returns it, still feeling Jon and Spencer pressed against his sides. He “hmms” into the kiss when he feels Spencer move away, but he knows what it means, and he laughs at Ryan’s jerk when Spencer smacks his ass, the sharp sound of it startling him.
“It’s my turn now dickwad,” and Spencer’s laughing, but he’s still got his arms wrapped around Ryan’s waist, is still pulling him up and off of Brendon, and Brendon laughs at Ryan’s petulant expression and the way he flails his arms out like he’s looking for a way to hold on.
Brendon’s laugh turns to a groan though when Ryan’s dick starts to slide out of him and he can feel the fluid inside of him start to slide down, start to leak out of him, without Ryan’s dick there to hold it in.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay. Spence’s got you,” says Jon, leaning down to kiss him and that’s nice, Jon’s kisses are always nice, and Brendon makes happy little sounds into Jon’s mouth, sounds that stop abruptly when Spencer slides his hands under the backs of Brendon’s hips, says, “Hold on,” and just slides the fuck in. Spencer doesn’t waste time, just starts driving into him, tilting Brendon in his hands so that he hits his prostate, and there is no fucking way that Brendon is going to last through this; he tries to say something, tries to warn them, but Jon’s tongue is still in his mouth, their lips are still sealed and all his sounds are lost in their kiss.
He arches into the air, Spencer still moving back and forth inside of him, moving in perfect time, sliding easily through Ryan and Jon’s come, and Brendon’s rocking his hips into the air, looking for friction that isn’t there, but it doesn’t really matter because Spencer is deliberately driving into his prostate, and he’s not hitting it every time, good rhythm doesn’t mean good aim, but he’s hitting it enough that Brendon knows he’s going to come soon, that he isn’t going to be able to help it, and then Spencer slams into him one more time, sharply hitting that bundle of nerves and Brendon is coming, is shooting, and the angle of his hips and the way that Spencer’s holding him means he shoots all the up the length of his chest, the warm fluid landing against his smooth skin and puddling there. He cries out, but he’s still kissing Jon and the sound is lost. Brendon’s eyes roll back, and he sees only darkness. He’s lost in the feel of finally, finally coming, the way his muscles all start to go limp.
Jon pulls back when he’s done shooting, and Brendon can see Spencer now, red-faced with shaking arms as he plunges his dick and out of Brendon’s ass, and Brendon is still clenching against him in ever-weakening waves but it must be enough, because he comes, throwing his head back and saying, “Fuck yes, love you. Brendon, fuck,” as he fills Brendon up.
Brendon’s clenching his ass muscles as hard as he can because he’s full now, because he likes this, because he wants this and he doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want Spencer to slide out, doesn’t want to lose their come, he wants to keep it all.
He whines as Spencer eases his hips back down against the bed, as Spencer starts to gently extricate himself from Brendon’s ass, and Brendon tries to hold him in, reaches an arm out and tries to grab at him, but it’s too late because Spencer is out now and Brendon can feel their come sliding out of his swollen asshole, starting to slide down towards his thighs, and he wants to complain but then Spencer is lifting his hips again, is ducking his head and oh fuck. If Brendon hadn’t already come so hard he thinks he killed off some brain cells, he would be coming now, Jesus fuck Spencer is eating their come out of his ass, is carefully licking up the trickle of come on Brendon’s ball sac and that would have been enough, would have been more than fucking enough, but Ryan seems to get an idea and he leans down and starts licking Brendon’s chest clean, and Brendon’s eyes fly to him, and he sees Ryan lean over and lick Jon’s shoulder and then he realizes that he got some on Jon too where he was leaning over Brendon to kiss him and Brendon arches, his dick half-soft but the impulse still there. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Jon laughs, delighted and he turns his head, kisses Ryan, and they’re swapping Brendon’s come right there, right before his face, and he curses and they turn to him, smile, and then descend, first Ryan and then Jon, feeding him his come, and he feels his dick twitch. It hurts; he was hard for so long, for too long, but it still twitches, and he says, “Fuck,” but he keeps taking it, has to, and Spencer’s tongue is bathing his abused asshole now and it’s like being electrocuted, every nerve in Brendon’s body snaps to attention, and he can’t help he’s bucking into Spencer’s mouth, is arching until even his neck is off of the mattress, and then Spencer’s gone, and he wants to cry, but Ryan’s gone too and then he realizes what they’re about to do, and he’s hard.
He doesn’t want to be; it hurts, fuck; he’s so sensitive that he thinks he could tell what direction the non-existent wind is coming from, but it doesn’t matter because then Ryan’s sliding another long finger into him, pulling it out and licking up the come he finds there, and Spencer’s leaning over his face, smiling, his mouth fully closed and then he’s kissing Brendon, and Brendon was right, fuck.
Spence’s pushing their come into his mouth and Brendon can’t pick out individual tastes or anything, it’s just come and a little bit of lube, but he knows; he knows it’s all of them, and Spencer’s giving it to him, knows what he wants, and Brendon sobs a little and runs his tongue greedily along the inside of Spencer’s mouth, wanting more, looking for more, and Ryan’s still licking at his ass, sliding his tongue delicately into Brendon, being careful not to hurt him and then he’s gone, and Brendon’s so fucking far gone, but then Spencer’s pulling back and Ryan looks positively self-satisfied as he leans down over Brendon and fuck, they hate him, they absolutely have to hate him because this, this is going to kill him. He is going to be so dead, they are going to be in so much trouble with Zack, but he opens his mouth anyway, waits for what he knows Ryan’s there to give him, and he can’t imagine why, but he’s surprised when he feels someone carefully pulling his cheeks apart, carefully licking into him, carefully poking and prodding and cleaning him, and he knows who it is because they like the balance of it and Spencer’s still pressed against his side, and it’s Jon; Jon, who fucking started all of this, whose tongue is in Brendon now, and then he can’t think about that, can’t think about anything because Ryan is feeding him another mouthful of come.
Then Jon is pulling away, is leaving one careful, tender, chaste kiss on Brendon’s ass and then sliding up to him, elbowing Ryan away from him, and leaning down to kiss him with a full mouth. Brendon opens for it, tasting the warm salty bitterness of them, of all of them, and he swallows it down, his cock hard, too hard, almost sore, and then Ryan’s there, his long fingers wrapped around Brendon, and he jerks, hard, almost too hard, and he’s not playing around, just setting a driving rhythm that has Brendon’s exhausted muscles pistoning him into the touch, and Jon pulls back and they’re all there, looking at him; Spencer smiling that stupid fucking sunshine smile, and Jon smiling his amused, tender smile, and Ryan looking like he’d never had a bad day in his whole life, and Brendon comes for the second time, looking at their faces.
Ryan lets go of him immediately, and Spencer’s ready with a soft baby wipe he’s magicked up from somewhere, and they carefully wipe him off, then roll him to his side. He’s out of it, feels like he’s high only he hasn’t smoked up all day; he’s just floating on the adrenaline, on the endorphins, just letting them take care of him, and they wrap themselves up around him, and he doesn’t even know who’s where, but he gets a kiss to the back of his neck that is a bit scratchy and probably came from Spencer; and one to his arm, where it’s stretched over someone’s skinny side, so that’s probably Jon; and one to the tip of his nose that’s almost certainly Ryan, but he doesn’t open his eyes to look. He hasn’t even got the energy for that.
He just says, “I love you.” And there’s a chorus of replies, and he always thought The Walton’s were pretty cool, but he suspects that they wouldn’t appreciate the comparison he wants to make right now, so he says, “I’m sleeping for the next week, and then you’re all still waiting on me hand and foot,” and they all laugh, just like he meant for them to, but he’s not entirely joking. He thinks he’s used every calorie he’s ever consumed tonight; he’s not sure he’s going to be able to stand, much less walk, tomorrow, but he’s not really complaining, it was still the best birthday he’s ever had, and like they can read his mind, one of them says, “Happy Birthday, Brendon,” there’re murmurs of assent, and then he gives up on staying awake and slides into sleep still smiling.
* All the titles in this series will come from songs, this one is “Overcome” by Better Than Ezra
Fandom: Bandslash, Panic At The Disco
Characters/Pairing: Panic GSF
Rating: Adult, very, very adult. Trust me on this one. Very, very, very adult.
Word Count: 8331
Warning: ( skip) Kink: Gangbang, Kink: Snowballing, Kink: Barebacking, Kink: Fingering, Kink: Overstimulation, Kink: Rimming/Felching, Kink: Orgasm Denial, Kink: Facials
Disclaimer: This is a fictional story about characters based, in part, on the images and histories of real people. If that bothers you and/or you are one of those people, you probably don't want to read this. No harm is intended; no profit is being made.
Summary: "One of them is going to ask him the question soon, and he already knows the answer."
Author's Notes: This is a kink bingo story.
Brendon was reasonably certain that normal bands didn’t celebrate their birthdays this way, but, then again, he was also reasonably certain that normal bands didn’t screw each other senseless as often as possible.
There was a reason Spencer had instituted the two-penetration rule for nights preceding shows. None of them were on their best form when they’d been the center of a very focused and willing gangbang the night before, but Brendon and Spencer were practically non-functional by the very nature of their roles in the band.
That’s okay though, Brendon thinks, it makes special occasions and time off more special because they all know what one of their gifts will be.
Brendon knows, knows that they’re going to torture him, going to use him, going to worship him, and he can’t wait, even though he knows he’s going to beg them a thousand times to let him come before they finally do, that he’s probably going to cry with the relief of it when they finally tell him it’s okay, but it’s going to be so worth it. Going to be worth every excruciating minute of it.
He’s bouncing on his feet, shifting his weight, jittery. It’s taking them forever to check in, and it’s not fair, this is his night and he’d like to get started already, if they don’t mind. Jon reaches out, wraps his strong fingers around one of Brendon’s wrists and, just like that, it’s on.
They’re still in the lobby, bookbags slung over their shoulders, too public to do anything, but Jon’s wrapped his fingers around Brendon’s wrist, rubs one calloused fingertip over the pulse-point there, and Brendon stills immediately.
He just stands there calm, ready, turned the fuck on. His hard-on is pressing against the slick fabric of his dress pants, and he hadn’t bothered with underwear after his shower, so there’s obviously a bulge. He might have been embarrassed, but he’s pretty well covered by his guys and Zack and the rest of their crew and, even if someone had noticed, what’s the worst they could have said? Lead singer gets hard-on! Surely that’s not news. Isn’t that implied with dick-ownership?
Jon tugs lightly on his wrist, and it’s time to go; they’ve finally got keys; it’s finally Brendon’s turn. They get on the elevator together; Zack’s still sorting out the rest of the guys, and they’ve got four keys between them to two different rooms, but even Zack doesn’t expect them to use the second room as any thing other than an extra shower.
Spencer leads the way off of the elevator, the first to get to their room, the first to open the door. They all pile through the door, dropping their bags just inside, and Brendon pushes past everyone, pulling his shirt over his head as he goes, “It’s MY turn.”
Spencer looks at him thoughtfully and turns to Ryan, “Is it? Do you remember anything about it being Brendon’s turn? I don’t.”
Ryan looks bored, but he’s unbuckling his belt when he says, “No, I think I’d remember something like that. I think he’s just trying to get special treatment.”
Jon laughs, the sound muffled by the shirt he’s pulling over his head, “Oh, he’s definitely trying to get special treatment.”
Brendon’s already toed off his shoes, and he’s trying to hop around and get his socks off as he says, “Come on guys, that’s not funny. You know it’s my turn. It’s my birthday!”
Spencer laughs as Brendon pitches to the left and catches himself against the bed, then says, “Well, I suppose if it’s your birthday we’ll have to do something.”
And it’s Ryan, who comes up behind Spencer, hooks his chin over Spencer’s shoulder, wraps his arms around Spencer’s waist and smiles evilly as he says, “Or do someone.”
Jon, because he is the bestest ever, is the first one to get naked (besides Brendon, but everyone know Brendon doesn’t count). Brendon already skims as close to the naked line as he can, it’s never a surprise when he strips out of his clothes in the first thirty seconds.
Ryan gets sidetracked from his own nakedness by Spencer’s dick--which isn’t even fair because if anyone should be allowed to be sidetracked by Spencer’s dick it’s definitely Brendon. He’s the birthday boy; he should get all the cocks tonight. He says that too, and Ryan reluctantly pulls his hand out of Spencer’s half-opened pants and peels himself off of Spencer’s back to carefully strip the rest of his clothes off.
Finally, finally they’re all naked and Brendon is on the bed, propping himself up on one elbow as he watches them. One of them is going to ask him the question soon, and he already knows the answer. Jon is slow and lazy; Ryan is sort of aimless but so filling, and Spencer is all driven and purposeful. And that’s the order he thinks he wants them in, though he’s not going to get to pick that, just who goes first.
Ryan looks at him, his eyes almost black, and as he starts to open his mouth, Brendon says, “Jon. But I want you to finger me.”
Ryan arches an eyebrow, smiling as he says, “Awfully demanding. Sounds like someone’s been thinking about this.”
“Fuck you Ross, you know the last time it was your turn you practically had a script!” Brendon’s a little huffy as he says it, but everyone knows he doesn’t mean it. Well, the bit about the script, yeah, but he’s not actually upset, just turned on and he’s been thinking about this for a while.
Spencer hasn’t said anything, he’s just lightly stroking his own cock, but at Brendon’s remark he steps forward, motions at Brendon to roll over. Brendon does, getting on his hands and knees, not at all surprised when Spencer clambers onto the bed in front of him and urges him forward. He’s already hard, they all are; Brendon isn’t the only one who’s been thinking about this, planning it, looking forward to it.
Brendon leans forward, nuzzles along the line of Spencer’s hip, licking and biting gently until Spencer drops one hand into his hair and lightly tugs. Brendon moans a little because this is what he wants: to be the focus, to be the one giving them pleasure, to know that they want him, love him.
He grasps Spencer’s dick in one hand and noses along it, licking at it with tiny little strokes as he works to taste every available inch of it. Spencer’s unmoving, staring down at Brendon with eyes too blue. Brendon hasn’t forgotten the other guys, they’re still there, he can feel their eyes on him. He arches his back and looks up from under the fringe of his hair for them; he knows that he looks good like this, but he’s focused on Spencer, on the musky smell and taste of him, of the warm, solid feel of him under Brendon. Brendon starts slowly stroking Spencer’s dick and noses below it, to his balls, sucking one in, rolling it in his mouth, ever-so-lightly scraping his teeth across it, feeling rewarded by the roll and arch of Spencer’s hips.
He’s still proud of himself when he feels someone else’s hand in his hair, feels them pull him back, off of Spencer’s dick. He tries to keep his hand moving even as he lets his head be pulled back, Spencer’s balls falling out of his mouth with a slick wet popping sound. It’s Ryan, his long fingers twisted into Brendon’s hair, and Brendon smiles at him, happy to be here, happy to see him. Ryan smiles back and leans down, kisses Brendon still holding his head up off of Spencer. They’re kissing, sloppy and wet because of the angle, their lips not sealing fully and Brendon knows how they must look to Spencer, their tongues visible as they stroke and twine around each other.
When Spencer groans Ryan pulls back, smiles beatifically at them both, and then drops onto the bed beside Brendon. Brendon, his mouth feeling swollen already, licks at the salty pre-come that’s collected on the head of Spencer’s dick, sliding his tongue into the slit there, chasing the taste of it. He’s mouthing sloppily at the head of Spencer’s cock, mostly just getting it wet, just letting Spencer know he’s still here, when he feels strong fingers grip his hips and pull, his ass going higher in the air, on display. And, oh, fuck. He hadn’t thought this through enough apparently, hadn’t said the right things, because he knows those fingers, knows that grip, and he’s never going to make it. He’s supposed to try to make through all of them, at least once, but Jon’s starting. Jon’s starting and not in the way that Brendon meant.
The first wet-cool slick of Jon’s tongue over his ass is enough to make Brendon moan, to force him to pull off of Spencer’s cock for a moment. Jon is a slow lazy fuck, but he’s single-minded rimmer. He acts like he’s got nothing else to do, in this life or the next, but lick and tongue the fuck out of whoever he’s with, and Brendon hadn’t counted on that. He rocks backwards, pushing his hips into Jon’s hands, pushing his ass closer to that mouth, and Brendon can feel as well as hear Jon’s chuckle.
Brendon’s still trying to acclimate, his cock throbbing hotly, when Jon swipes his tongue across his hole again and there’s nothing Brendon wants more in this moment than this. That is until Ryan smiles at him, slides down so his face is level with Brendon’s, next to Spencer’s hips, and then snakes one of his hands down to take hold of Brendon, to start stroking him so slowly. Jon chooses that moment to stiffen his tongue, to start prodding lightly at the ring of muscle in Brendon’s ass, and it’s almost too much; he almost comes then. He groans and doesn’t know what to do; he shudders between them, Ryan’s hand on his dick, Jon’s tongue in his ass, and his face smashed into the cradle of Spencer’s pelvis, his nose practically touching Spencer’s dick. He feels bad about that; he’s not doing a very good job at the whole blowjob thing, and the next time he feels Jon swipe his tongue flatly across his hole, Brendon also licks out, swiping his tongue halfway around the shaft of Spencer’s dick, causing them both to moan. Ryan smiles at that and moves so that he can help, and they lie there, their heads holding Spencer’s hips still as they and tease at his cock with only their tongues.
Brendon feels Spencer’s hand in his hair at the same time he sees Spencer’s strong fingers start carding through Ryan’s soft curls, and Brendon is so content in this moment, so settled. This is his favorite thing: the way they are all connected in this, together. They stay that way for a few more moments, then Spencer pulls at their heads, forcing them off of him, and he guides Brendon back to his cock. Now it’s easier, Brendon’s settled into the rhythm of Jon’s tongue against him, inside him, and he rocks into it, feeling the way that Jon’s prodding and licking at him. On the off beat, he swallows down onto Spencer’s cock, sucking lightly. He’s not really trying to get him to come, but he wants him on the edge. He settles into a rhythm, when he arches back into Jon’s mouth, he licks along the length of Spencer’s dick, when he rocks back down it’s into the tight grip of Ryan’s hand.
Maybe being in a band together is good for all of this, they fall into the pace and rhythm of it easily, keeping time together, the wet slick sounds of their mouths and bodies accompanying their movements.
Brendon can feel the way that Jon’s hands are holding him apart, the slight nudge of his nose as he tries to get closer, the bristle of his beard across the bottom of Brendon’s balls, it’s so much sensation. The slick, wet sounds of his tongue as he licks and strokes and works his way into Brendon. Brendon honestly thinks he could come from this, but that’s not the plan. The plan is for him to take them all--then they’ll take care of him. That’s the plan. He groans a little at the thought, his mouth on Spencer, lightly sucking as he does it, and Spencer groans, says, “Fuck,” bucks his hips up, driving his cock deeper into Brendon’s mouth, glancing off of the soft places at back. Brendon groans again; he can’t help it, he can’t, and Ryan lets go of him, the lost touch makes Brendon whimper and look at him.
Ryan just smiles, runs one hand over the top of Brendon’s head, pausing briefly to tangle with Spencer’s hand, still in Brendon’s hair, then continues down to the nape of his neck to give him a light squeeze.
Then Ryan lets go again and levers himself up.
“Jon, hey. Jon.” Ryan’s voice is amused; Jon is focused on his task, but then he’s gone, hands still holding Brendon open, cool air now making Brendon hyper-aware of how exposed he is, that they can just look at him like that. He drops his head to Spencer’s hip again, lightly tracing his fingers in lines and whorls along the shaft of Spencer’s cock. He knows what’s coming.
Jon lets go of him, murmurs something to Ryan, and then Ryan’s touching him. Fuck, Ryan. Spencer rumbles under him, and he realizes he’d said that aloud. Ryan’s talking again, louder now, loud enough that Brendon can hear him.
“So pretty like this, you know that right? You want it so much, so willing to show us.” He runs one long finger down the line of Brendon’s back, bumping along the vertebrae. “So pretty.” Brendon rocks towards him, trying to arch up into his touch. Ryan pulls his hand away, smacks it lightly against Brendon’s ass. “Don’t forget Spence, he’s been a very good boy too.”
Brendon looks up, sees Spencer roll his eyes as he says, “Fuck you Ryan,” but it doesn’t stop him from using the hand that is still, still tangled in Brendon’s hair to guide Brendon back to his dick. Brendon thinks that Spencer is very patient, very willing to put up with him and how distractible he can be. That’s probably why he’s under Brendon, but Brendon loves him for it, loves that Spencer never complains, just gently reminds Brendon what he was doing before something else caught his attention.
Brendon beams at him and drops down on Spencer’s cock again, going down as far as he can, slowing as he feels Spencer nudge at the back of his throat, as he feels his gag-reflex trying to kick in. Then he keeps going, deliberately relaxing his throat, concentrating at how much he wants this. He’s not as good at this as Spencer is but he can do it, and then he feels the tip of Spencer’s cock nudge its way into his throat, and he relaxes completely, still moving down the line of Spencer’s dick, drooling all along its length as he swallows down it, moving until his nose is buried in the wiry hair covering Spencer’s pubic bone, and fuck, he likes this. All he can taste and feel is Spencer. Spencer bucks gently into him; his fingers tight in Brendon’s hair, pulling slightly; he curses as Brendon pulls off slightly and then works his back down again.
Brendon looks at Spencer then, his mouth stretched around Spencer’s cock, and he sees Spencer bite his lip. Oh. Brendon hopes he doesn’t get in trouble for this; he didn’t mean to, it’s just that Spencer had been so good, was always so good. But he pulls away slightly, still mouthing along the shaft as he retreats, his hand coming up to cover the newly exposed areas, stroking along the length of Spencer’s dick. He’s mouthing at the head of Spencer’s cock, licking at the spot under the head that Spencer enjoys so much, prodding the tip of his tongue into the slit at the top, sucking tightly at the sensitive skin, when Spencer says, “Fuck,” again and then pulls sharply on Brendon’s hair.
Ryan’s hands are still tracing and wending their way along Brendon’s back, and he can feel Jon to the side, just watching for now, Jon likes to watch, but all he can really focus on is the sharp tug and pain of Spencer’s fingers wrapped up in his hair. Spencer pulls him free of his cock and Brendon’s surprised, mouth still hanging wetly open, his eyes wide when Spencer starts to come. The first stripe runs up the column of his throat to his chin and Brendon quickly shuts his eyes. He wants to watch, wants to see Spencer come undone, wants to look down at Spencer as he claims him, but he’s had come in his eyes and it’s really not that much fun.
Instead he just lets Spencer hold his head there, lets his mouth hang open, and he slides his tongue out, chasing a taste of Spencer. Spencer groans again and Brendon tries to duck his head, just a little, just to make the angle better, and Spencer must agree because this time he can feel the slightly sticky fluid hit his cheek, his nose. So close, so close, he’s arching and pulling trying to get closer, but he can’t move, held in place by Ryan at his back and Spencer’s firm grip in his hair. Finally, finally, he can taste the salty, earthy, wonderful taste of Spencer, and Brendon licks his lips, trying to collect as much as he can, rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing.
Ryan smacks him again, still gently, and says, “You realize you’re going to have to wait longer now, right? Because everyone gets a turn.” Brendon nods, the motion pulling his hair tight in Spencer’s grip. He knows; he knows but he doesn’t care, can’t care. He sees Jon standing next to the bed, stroking himself, and Brendon smiles down at Spencer.
Spencer’s looking at him with his eyes narrowed, looking fucking wrecked, and Brendon could really come right now, could come from this, but that’s not what he really wants, not really. It would be nice though. He’d like that. He’s half-heartedly moving one hand towards his cock when Spencer rubs his fingers gently through his hair and then drops his arm back to the bed. Brendon rolls his neck, feels the come sliding on his face and gives up on the thought of touching himself. He wants the taste of Spencer, wants to wipe his face and lick his hand clean, he didn’t get nearly enough before.
Before he can get his hand up to his face, there’s another hand on the back of his neck, turning him to face Jon’s. Jon is smiling as he says, “You missed a spot,” and leans down to swipe his tongue through the mess of come and sweat on Brendon’s face, on his neck. Brendon and Spencer both moan, and Brendon tilts his face up, into the smooth motion of Jon’s tongue. He wants to be jealous because he wanted that, but before he can even complain, Jon’s leaning and sliding his lips over Brendon’s, opening them and pushing his tongue into Brendon’s mouth, Spencer’s come heavy on his tongue. Brendon shudders. This is so, so much better than his plan. Jon pulls back slightly, smiles at him, and Brendon chases after him with his mouth and tongue, there’s more there and he wants that, the taste of Spencer in Jon’s mouth, the taste of himself still on Jon’s tongue and, underneath it all, the taste of Jon.
He doesn’t quite get his mouth sealed to Jon’s before he’s reaching back in with his tongue, pulling more of Spencer’s come into his own mouth. This time it’s Ryan he hears groaning, his long fingers tightening against Brendon’s ass cheeks. Ryan likes to watch too, likes how much Brendon loves their come. But Brendon can’t think about that right now, can’t think about other times they’ve had together, because Jon has something that’s his, and he’s determined to get it, to get it all. He jerks forward, against Ryan’s grip, and gets his free hand wrapped around Jon’s arm, pulls him closer, holds him fast so that he can slide his tongue back in, running it along the wall of Jon’s teeth before dipping behind and under to get at more of Spencer’s come. It doesn’t take long before Jon just tastes like himself, rich and unmistakable.
Jon pulls back then, smiling at Brendon, who lets his head fall back onto Spencer, resting for a minute, knowing that it drives his ass back into Ryan. Ryan stops idly running his finger along the crease of Brendon’s ass and finally slides a finger between his cheeks, dragging it along the sensitive skin there. Brendon gasps when the warm pad of Ryan’s finger catches slightly on the skin of his hole; he wants more, wants this.
Ryan chuckles, and pulls his finger away. Brendon’s about to whine, willing to beg for it at this point, when he feels Ryan grip his cheeks in his palms and pull them apart. Brendon feels so exposed, and he loves it. Loves the way he knows he most look, so eager for it, so ready. His cock twitches, and he wants to touch himself but he can’t, can’t without risking coming and that would be bad.
He makes a little whimpering sound and then it breaks off, turns into a groan, when he feels the damp, warm glide of Ryan’s tongue between the valley created by his asscheeks. Brendon can see Jon lean down over Spencer, can see them start to kiss, but Spencer still brings one hand up to stroke gently at the back of his neck and this is great. Brendon’s warm and content and Ryan’s slowly licking his way into his ass, and life is wonderful.
Jon climbs onto the bed neck to Spencer, still kissing him, and now his cock is right there, so close, and Jon was so wonderful, so Brendon reaches out a hand, starts to slowly stroke him, and this is even better than before. Then Ryan pulls back slowly, his tongue sliding free of Brendon’s body, and he just aches for it, wants it so much, wants to be full, is so, so ready to be filled. He knows better than to complain, because Ryan’s a fucking tease, but he says, “Yes” when Ryan eases one finger just barely into Brendon, rubbing around the lip of Brendon’s asshole, testing the stretch of his skin. Brendon bucks into it; wanting more; wanting the whole finger; wanting two or three fingers; wanting Ryan’s cock, long like his fingers, filling him up, making him gasp with the sensation, but it’s not time yet, not yet.
Brendon’s so ready, god he wants to come, and he’s still got one hand on Jon’s dick where he’s half-heartedly stroking, more to keep him on the brink than anything else; he doesn’t want to make him come, not yet. Brendon doesn’t think he could survive that.
Ryan’s found some lube somewhere, or maybe Jon did earlier; Brendon doesn’t know where it comes from, but Ryan’s fingers are definitely slick with something other than his saliva when he slides a second one in along side the first, hooking them slightly and gently tugging at Brendon’s ass. God, fuck. Ryan is the best at this (not just because he can reach Brendon’s prostate so easily, when he feels like it), but because he’s so focused: he watches everything, seems to get lost in it. He tugs at Brendon in a rhythm: once, twice, twist, slide, tug, tug, twist, slide... Brendon’s rocking back and forth, his dick swinging slightly with the motion of his body, and he starts keeping counterpoint on Jon’s dick. Spencer is still underneath them, his cock still soft, but only just. He’s starting to stiffen, and Brendon knows it won’t be too much longer before he’s ready again. The thought of it makes him smile, and he gives it a quick lick and then blows across the moistened flesh, smiling widely at Spencer’s jerk.
Something about the change in the rhythm below him must alert Ryan because he stops and slides his fingers out, slicks them up again and then slides back in, this time with three, and god, fuck, yes, that’s what Brendon’s been waiting for. He can feel the slight burn of the stretch and the ache of emptiness, worse now that he’s getting only part of what he wants. He needs to be fucked, needs some one’s cock inside of him driving into him as they hold on to him, needs it and doesn’t even realize he’s saying it, until Jon says, “Shh, shh, soon. You’re almost ready.”
Jon palms his cheek and Brendon turns his face into it, presses a kiss to the skin there, and then tries to settle. Ryan’s stroking lightly at his prostate now, making Brendon keen and whimper, he wants this, fuck he wants thi,s and then Ryan pulls free and strokes his slick hand over Brendon’s ass cheek, says, “Hush now, it’s time,” and fuck, yes, finally.
Jon kisses Spencer once more, lazy and content, and then stands up. Ryan’s weight is also coming off the bed, and it’s just Brendon and Spencer, and Brendon is suddenly aware, without all the extra stimulation, that his legs ache from holding this position, that his back is just a little bit sore, that he’d really like to stretch. Because Spencer is magic like that, he seems to notice and he grabs Brendon’s wrist and tugs until Brendon is forced up the length of him, his cock dragging against Spencer’s leg, finally nestling into the joint of Spencer’s hips, and Brendon tries very hard to hold still. He could just jerk once, twice, maybe five times, and then he could be coming, smearing his come between them, sticking them together.
Spencer kisses him breathless and then rolls them over. Brendon can feel the stretch and give of his muscles and this is good, better, and he can feel Spencer, hard now, against him, and he wants this. But Jon says, “Hey Dude,” and Spencer pulls away, dropping one last kiss onto Brendon’s nose before he does, and then Jon’s there; Jon’s kissing him, reaching a hand between them to guide himself into Brendon and it’s gentle, slow, and perfect.
Brendon can feel every millimeter of him as Jon slides in, and Jon doesn’t stop until his balls are flush against Brendon’s ass. Brendon brings his legs up, wraps them around Jon and just settles in. He pointedly doesn’t touch himself, instead he flails his arms out to his sides, looking for something to hold on to, to help him hold on, and Ryan is to his right now, Brendon in the middle of their bed. Ryan grasps his wrist, pulls his hand down to his cock, and, okay, that’s something Brendon can hold onto. He laughs at the thought, his body shaking, and Jon makes a surprised noise and now he’s pulling back out, driving in again. He sets a steady pace and this is why Brendon wanted him first. Jon fucks like he takes pictures, all patience and waiting for the perfect moment. Brendon can settle into Jon, let him take over. He can lose himself in Jon’s rhythm and it helps him hold on longer, helps escape for a little bit how much he needs to come.
His dick is already slick with his precome, and he wants so badly to come, but it’s better this way; he knows it is, he’ll be glad later, he will, he just has to hold on. He strokes Ryan in time with his thoughts, sliding his hand up on “hold”, down on “on”. It means the down stroke is a little fast, but Ryan doesn’t seem to mind.
Spencer’s on his other side, and he’s just been watching, but Ryan gasps after a particularly pointed “on” beat, and he seems to guess something of what Brendon’s doing because he reaches out and runs one palm from Brendon’s collarbone to his pubic bone. He doesn’t touch anything in particular, just provides pressure, just makes Brendon aware he’s there; Brendon rolls his head towards Spencer, his hair a disaster and his lower lip caught between his teeth, and Spencer mutters and pulls his hand away, coming back to pinch at Brendon’s nipple even as Jon thrusts back into him, and Brendon’s whole body arches off the bed his teeth letting go of his lip as he curses.
“Spence, that’s not nice,” says Ryan, but he doesn’t seem particularly concerned. Brendon has to come, he has to, he has to, and he hears himself, his words tripping over themselves on their way out of his mouth, “Please, please, please, Jon, please.”
Spencer turns then looks towards where Jon’s cock is disappearing into Brendon’s ass and says, “Now, Jon.”
Jon grunts, tightens his grip on Brendon’s ass and pulls him up, pulls him closer and just starts driving into him. Brendon’s hand falls off of Ryan’s cock, what little attention he has left focused on the way Jon is moving in him, is using him, he squeezes then, tightening around Jon’s cock, and he feels Jon start to come even before he hears him.
Brendon can feel the warm gush of Jon’s come, filling him, and he arches his head back and he’s going to come, he is, despite the game but before he can start to shoot Spencer’s hand is there, tight around the base of his cock and Brendon can feel the tension build, can feel the way his orgasm strains at the grip, but it’s impossible and he falls back down against the bed, limp. It’s like an orgasm; it’s like coming except for how fucking hard he is, how much he still needs it. But it helps a little, makes it a little easier. He whimpers when Spencer loosens his grip, strokes him gently. He’s still so sensitive; he’s pretty sure he can feel every whorl and line of Spencer’s fingertips as he runs his fingers lightly up Brendon’s dick. Jon is still inside him, moving slightly back and forth, more like he likes the movement than for any explicit purpose. Brendon feels so hot; his skin is too tight, his whole body feels blistered. And slick, fuck. He’s sweating, he knows he is; he can feel little trickles of it moving down his forehead, his neck, his chest. He just lies there for a moment, lets Spencer pet at him and Jon move in him and feels it all.
Then Ryan reaches out and grabs his chin, turns his head, and Brendon looks at him, takes in the sight. Ryan’s cock is hard and flushed, his whole, skinny body is. His hair is curling damply against his forehead and around his ears, and his eyes look black. Brendon wants that, wants Ryan, wants them all. He opens his mouth, still breathing heavily, and Ryan seems to understand, rolls into him and starts kissing him. Ryan’s not as focused as Spencer or as lazy as Jon; he flits between the two. He spends forever tugging on Brendon’s lower lip with his teeth, pulling it into his mouth, worrying at it and then licking it until the blood rushes into it, making it feel twice as big. Brendon lies there and lets them all touch him, use him, take care of him, and he never feels as loved as he does when they’re like this, when he knows that they love him, try to give him the things he wants, think that he deserves them.
He whimpers a little when Ryan’s attentions to his mouth start verging on painful, when Spencer’s hand stroking him, and Jon moving in him is all too much, and he squirms a little. Spencer lets go, says, “Guys.”
Jon pulls out, his cock nearly all the way soft now, and Brendon can both hear and feel the squelching pop of him pulling free. He loves the way his ass feels open still, feels ready still. He can feel the trickle of Jon’s come start to make its way down, and he makes a protesting sound. No, he wants that, wants to keep it.
Ryan’s still kissing him, but properly kissing him now, his tongue in Brendon’s mouth stroking Brendon’s own, teasing and chasing it back and forth between them. He doesn’t know how it happens, but Jon’s gone and Spencer’s between his legs, looking down at how Brendon’s trying to clench himself closed, trying to keep a hold of Jon’s come, and then Spencer slides one finger down, catches the trickle that escaped, pulls it up and licks it clean. Brendon pulls away from Ryan when he feels Spencer’s finger, and he knows he pouts at Spencer. Spencer laughs at him, calls him greedy, but it’s too late because Ryan’s suddenly gone too, joining Spencer at the foot of the bed, trying to elbow him out of the way. “It’s my turn,” Ryan says, “You already got to come once,” and that’s true. Spencer did come, came on Brendon’s face and that was awesome.
Brendon thinks that maybe in retrospect it wasn’t as big a mistake as he thought because now he’s going to get them in the order he wanted.
Spencer lets go of Brendon’s thighs, moves away, and Brendon spares a thought for the bruises he’s going to have tomorrow, all the finger-shaped marks on his hips and thighs from where they’ve been holding him. He barely has a moment to spare for thinking about it before Ryan has succeeded in shoving Spencer out of his way. Ryan must be closer than Brendon realized because he doesn’t so much as pause before he’s sliding two fingers into Brendon and stroking lightly at the patch of nerves inside him. Brendon actually keens, which is not something he generally does in the bedroom, and his hands are shaking where they’re clenching the sheets when Ryan pulls his fingers back out of Brendon’s body.
Ryan is laughing, because he is a heartless and cruel motherfucker, but he’s also sliding into Brendon as he does it. Brendon’s still slightly slick with lube from earlier and he’s definitely still wet with Jon’s come, so Ryan just eases himself in, not even stopping to lube up. Brendon rolls his head from side to side. Ryan likes to wait once he gets in, likes to adjust to the feeling, and Brendon likes it too, likes the way that he feels so fucking full, so stretched and claimed and just completely whole.
Ryan’s fully in him now, his cock feels like it’s halfway up Brendon’s spine; he knows it isn’t, but it feels like it, and it’s a good feeling. Brendon’s a total bottom and he’s happy about that, thanks. Not that he doesn’t like topping, but he loves the feel of someone in him, loves the way it feels like they’re becoming part of him. He’s lying there, just sort of smiling in Ryan’s general direction which is apparently a good thing because Ryan lets go of his hip and wraps those gorgeously long fingers around Brendon’s dick, jerking it lightly. Brendon’s babbling now, things that sound like please and fuck and love and come and now and even he isn’t entirely sure what he’s saying. He looks around for Spencer and Jon, and there they are; Jon wrapped around Spencer’s back, gently tugging on Spencer’s cock as they both stare at him. He opens his mouth, looks at them, wants them, wants them on the bed with him, and maybe something of that desire is on his face because Jon says, “Spence, I think he misses us,” and Brendon says, “yes, yes, yes.” Over and over like it’s his new mantra and maybe it is: saying yes to them has always, always been a good idea.
Jon lets go of Spencer’s dick and moves out from behind him. Jon’s dick is still soft (and it should be, fuck, he just came), but Brendon wishes it was hard because he’d like to be sucking it, would like to be able to do that, especially since Jon’s already come once; it would be okay, would be allowed. Ryan starts moving then, sliding almost all the way out and then gliding back in. Brendon closes his eyes, concentrates on the feeling, and he can tell he’s wet, sloppy inside because sometimes Ryan goes too far, pops out and has to use both hands to get back inside. Ryan’s usually pretty aimless when he’s fucking, it’s like he’s always got another idea he wants to try, and he’s always changing his tempo. Sometimes he twists his hips and sometimes he aims for the prostate and sometimes he just seems to want to find out exactly how deep he can go. It’s perfect because Ryan gets off on it, finding his own rhythm in it all, but Brendon can hold off longer, can wait longer, even though his dick is so hard that he is beginning to wonder if he can come at all or if he’ll always have a raging boner, which would make shows really interesting, actually.
Brendon’s eyes fly open when Ryan’s hand leaves his dick entirely and then there’s a soft, wet press against it. It’s Jon, fucking Jon, smiling at him as he licks Brendon’s cock, and Brendon can’t take it, he can’t. He twitches, jerks away from it, into it. He doesn’t even know what he wants anymore. He wants to come, but if he comes it’ll be too soon; he wants Spencer, wants to come last. He clenches his whole body, desperate to do something, and Ryan says, “Fuck,” and Jon pulls off, and Brendon can feel him. Can feel Ryan, deeper than Jon, coming, can feel the first hot spurt of his come and Brendon involuntarily clenches tighter, hears Ryan’s obscenities. His eyes are clenched tight and Jon’s hand is there, tight around him again, like Spencer’s had been, making him feel like he’s coming-sort-of-except for the parts where he’s soft afterwards, except for the parts where he’s got his own come cooling on his stomach and his whole body is limp and then they cuddle, except for the good parts, it’s like coming.
Brendon sinks into the mattress, his muscles sore and loose from being so tight, and Ryan’s stroking one hand up and down his flank. Spencer’s gotten on the bed at some point because he’s pushing Brendon’s damp sweaty hair off of his forehead, and Jon’s still there, rubbing circles into his stomach now. Fuck, he loves this, loves them. Loves how they take care of each other, loves how they know him.
Jon’s talking, “Good, so fucking good Brendon, almost there, promise.” And Brendon knows he is, it’s just Spence left, and Spencer is nothing if not goal-oriented. And, if the boner Brendon can see out of the corner of his eye is anything to go by, he’s ready to come. He’s not going to fool around, just going to bring them both over the edge as fast as he can. Brendon smiles up at him.
Ryan leans forward, completely ignoring the bodies in his way, sure that they’ll make for him and they do; they always do. He’s still inside Brendon, going soft now, but he leans forward, starting to slip out a little, as he kisses Brendon. It’s a hot, tender kiss. There’s none of the biting and teasing from earlier, just the sweet press of his lips and the warm slide of his tongue. Brendon returns it, still feeling Jon and Spencer pressed against his sides. He “hmms” into the kiss when he feels Spencer move away, but he knows what it means, and he laughs at Ryan’s jerk when Spencer smacks his ass, the sharp sound of it startling him.
“It’s my turn now dickwad,” and Spencer’s laughing, but he’s still got his arms wrapped around Ryan’s waist, is still pulling him up and off of Brendon, and Brendon laughs at Ryan’s petulant expression and the way he flails his arms out like he’s looking for a way to hold on.
Brendon’s laugh turns to a groan though when Ryan’s dick starts to slide out of him and he can feel the fluid inside of him start to slide down, start to leak out of him, without Ryan’s dick there to hold it in.
“Shh, shh. It’s okay. Spence’s got you,” says Jon, leaning down to kiss him and that’s nice, Jon’s kisses are always nice, and Brendon makes happy little sounds into Jon’s mouth, sounds that stop abruptly when Spencer slides his hands under the backs of Brendon’s hips, says, “Hold on,” and just slides the fuck in. Spencer doesn’t waste time, just starts driving into him, tilting Brendon in his hands so that he hits his prostate, and there is no fucking way that Brendon is going to last through this; he tries to say something, tries to warn them, but Jon’s tongue is still in his mouth, their lips are still sealed and all his sounds are lost in their kiss.
He arches into the air, Spencer still moving back and forth inside of him, moving in perfect time, sliding easily through Ryan and Jon’s come, and Brendon’s rocking his hips into the air, looking for friction that isn’t there, but it doesn’t really matter because Spencer is deliberately driving into his prostate, and he’s not hitting it every time, good rhythm doesn’t mean good aim, but he’s hitting it enough that Brendon knows he’s going to come soon, that he isn’t going to be able to help it, and then Spencer slams into him one more time, sharply hitting that bundle of nerves and Brendon is coming, is shooting, and the angle of his hips and the way that Spencer’s holding him means he shoots all the up the length of his chest, the warm fluid landing against his smooth skin and puddling there. He cries out, but he’s still kissing Jon and the sound is lost. Brendon’s eyes roll back, and he sees only darkness. He’s lost in the feel of finally, finally coming, the way his muscles all start to go limp.
Jon pulls back when he’s done shooting, and Brendon can see Spencer now, red-faced with shaking arms as he plunges his dick and out of Brendon’s ass, and Brendon is still clenching against him in ever-weakening waves but it must be enough, because he comes, throwing his head back and saying, “Fuck yes, love you. Brendon, fuck,” as he fills Brendon up.
Brendon’s clenching his ass muscles as hard as he can because he’s full now, because he likes this, because he wants this and he doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want Spencer to slide out, doesn’t want to lose their come, he wants to keep it all.
He whines as Spencer eases his hips back down against the bed, as Spencer starts to gently extricate himself from Brendon’s ass, and Brendon tries to hold him in, reaches an arm out and tries to grab at him, but it’s too late because Spencer is out now and Brendon can feel their come sliding out of his swollen asshole, starting to slide down towards his thighs, and he wants to complain but then Spencer is lifting his hips again, is ducking his head and oh fuck. If Brendon hadn’t already come so hard he thinks he killed off some brain cells, he would be coming now, Jesus fuck Spencer is eating their come out of his ass, is carefully licking up the trickle of come on Brendon’s ball sac and that would have been enough, would have been more than fucking enough, but Ryan seems to get an idea and he leans down and starts licking Brendon’s chest clean, and Brendon’s eyes fly to him, and he sees Ryan lean over and lick Jon’s shoulder and then he realizes that he got some on Jon too where he was leaning over Brendon to kiss him and Brendon arches, his dick half-soft but the impulse still there. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Jon laughs, delighted and he turns his head, kisses Ryan, and they’re swapping Brendon’s come right there, right before his face, and he curses and they turn to him, smile, and then descend, first Ryan and then Jon, feeding him his come, and he feels his dick twitch. It hurts; he was hard for so long, for too long, but it still twitches, and he says, “Fuck,” but he keeps taking it, has to, and Spencer’s tongue is bathing his abused asshole now and it’s like being electrocuted, every nerve in Brendon’s body snaps to attention, and he can’t help he’s bucking into Spencer’s mouth, is arching until even his neck is off of the mattress, and then Spencer’s gone, and he wants to cry, but Ryan’s gone too and then he realizes what they’re about to do, and he’s hard.
He doesn’t want to be; it hurts, fuck; he’s so sensitive that he thinks he could tell what direction the non-existent wind is coming from, but it doesn’t matter because then Ryan’s sliding another long finger into him, pulling it out and licking up the come he finds there, and Spencer’s leaning over his face, smiling, his mouth fully closed and then he’s kissing Brendon, and Brendon was right, fuck.
Spence’s pushing their come into his mouth and Brendon can’t pick out individual tastes or anything, it’s just come and a little bit of lube, but he knows; he knows it’s all of them, and Spencer’s giving it to him, knows what he wants, and Brendon sobs a little and runs his tongue greedily along the inside of Spencer’s mouth, wanting more, looking for more, and Ryan’s still licking at his ass, sliding his tongue delicately into Brendon, being careful not to hurt him and then he’s gone, and Brendon’s so fucking far gone, but then Spencer’s pulling back and Ryan looks positively self-satisfied as he leans down over Brendon and fuck, they hate him, they absolutely have to hate him because this, this is going to kill him. He is going to be so dead, they are going to be in so much trouble with Zack, but he opens his mouth anyway, waits for what he knows Ryan’s there to give him, and he can’t imagine why, but he’s surprised when he feels someone carefully pulling his cheeks apart, carefully licking into him, carefully poking and prodding and cleaning him, and he knows who it is because they like the balance of it and Spencer’s still pressed against his side, and it’s Jon; Jon, who fucking started all of this, whose tongue is in Brendon now, and then he can’t think about that, can’t think about anything because Ryan is feeding him another mouthful of come.
Then Jon is pulling away, is leaving one careful, tender, chaste kiss on Brendon’s ass and then sliding up to him, elbowing Ryan away from him, and leaning down to kiss him with a full mouth. Brendon opens for it, tasting the warm salty bitterness of them, of all of them, and he swallows it down, his cock hard, too hard, almost sore, and then Ryan’s there, his long fingers wrapped around Brendon, and he jerks, hard, almost too hard, and he’s not playing around, just setting a driving rhythm that has Brendon’s exhausted muscles pistoning him into the touch, and Jon pulls back and they’re all there, looking at him; Spencer smiling that stupid fucking sunshine smile, and Jon smiling his amused, tender smile, and Ryan looking like he’d never had a bad day in his whole life, and Brendon comes for the second time, looking at their faces.
Ryan lets go of him immediately, and Spencer’s ready with a soft baby wipe he’s magicked up from somewhere, and they carefully wipe him off, then roll him to his side. He’s out of it, feels like he’s high only he hasn’t smoked up all day; he’s just floating on the adrenaline, on the endorphins, just letting them take care of him, and they wrap themselves up around him, and he doesn’t even know who’s where, but he gets a kiss to the back of his neck that is a bit scratchy and probably came from Spencer; and one to his arm, where it’s stretched over someone’s skinny side, so that’s probably Jon; and one to the tip of his nose that’s almost certainly Ryan, but he doesn’t open his eyes to look. He hasn’t even got the energy for that.
He just says, “I love you.” And there’s a chorus of replies, and he always thought The Walton’s were pretty cool, but he suspects that they wouldn’t appreciate the comparison he wants to make right now, so he says, “I’m sleeping for the next week, and then you’re all still waiting on me hand and foot,” and they all laugh, just like he meant for them to, but he’s not entirely joking. He thinks he’s used every calorie he’s ever consumed tonight; he’s not sure he’s going to be able to stand, much less walk, tomorrow, but he’s not really complaining, it was still the best birthday he’s ever had, and like they can read his mind, one of them says, “Happy Birthday, Brendon,” there’re murmurs of assent, and then he gives up on staying awake and slides into sleep still smiling.
* All the titles in this series will come from songs, this one is “Overcome” by Better Than Ezra