fingers, bunks, and love.
Of course Brendon loves them. He loves when Ryan has him shoved up to the edge of the bunk because there is no room, and he won't use anymore than two, says he wouldn't be able to handle it, but he knows he can, and so does Brendon. Brendon is fucking begging for it, begging for more, fucking himself against his fingers, whimpering, moaning, and writhing.
And in that cramped corner in the bunk, Brendon whispering, low, so fucking low because he doesn't want the others to hear, "three Ryan, please, please." Ryan, with his lips somewhere near Brendon’s collarbone, murmurs, "don't wanna hurt you." Brendon groans, and Ryan’s fingers rub inside him, brushing against his prostate over and over. Brendon really can't take just two fingers anymore
Brendon can't take it anymore, can't take the hours of teasing that he has to endure with Ryan. It’s all too little, so he reaches down, attempting at putting one of his own finger in beside Ryan’s. When Ryan starts to pull his out, dragging against the sensitive walls, Brendon shoves one of his in, and his breath catches, and he throws his head back, biting his lip so hard he's sure it's white. Ryan looks up, shakes his head, and thrusts his fingers in, harder and faster than he had been, directly at his prostate. He looks up at Brendon and shakes his head before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin of Brendon’s neck.
Brendon can't thrusts his finger in because Ryan keeps changing rhythm and their knuckles catch, and Brendon swallows, tries to breath, and just says, "fuck Ryan, just. Just do this, okay?" Ryan teeth press further into Brendon’s neck, and Brendon feels Ryan’s hand pull away Brendon’s finger, before two long, expert fingers are making their way inside again, with a third finger tip experimenting around the rim.
Brendon’s now free hand finds it's way to a bed sheet and grips tightly, groaning. "Come on, Ryan, I can take it, you know I can," and Ryan does know he can, but prefers it this way. The third fingertip presses into the tight ring of muscles slowly and Brendon tightens, groaning out, "fuck, Ryan! yes!" and this is probably why Ryan does it, to hear the noises that Brendon makes when he's fucking him with his fingers, or sucking his cock.
Pushing the third finger in makes Brendon’s mouth go slack, and silent moan escaping his parted lips and Ryan licks a strip along his neck, roughly pulling all three rights to the edge, and thrusting them, hard, until Brendon makes such a noise that the whole bus must hear them. Ryan keeps twisting his fingers.
Jon and Spencer know, they have to know, Brendon's never been good at keeping silent, but Ryan still whispers to him, "shh, they'll know." Brendon tenses his body and his mouth falls open, breaths puffing out like he's having a child. Ryan knows this; Brendon's going to come, just from his fingers, no one touching his dick. It's too soon, and Ryan pulls his fingers out, with Brendon whining in disapproval, crawling on top of him, straddling him, his boxers clad erection rubbing against Brendon's bare one. Brendon groans, but this isn't enough, Ryan knows that, he needs fingers, he needs Ryan.
Jon and Spencer place bets, sometimes. They place bets on what nights they're going to do it, whether Brendon is going to plead, and whether Ryan is going to give in or not. They listen with grins, and mouth to each other from the top bunks who's going to win. In the quiet of the night, they can hear Ryan say in a husky voice, "Want me to fuck you?"
Spencer's winning.
"Fuck, please," Brendon whimpers, rolling his hips to get the friction, skin against boxers, and Ryan has to grab Brendon’s hips roughly just to keep control, just to stop himself from fucking the boy dry.
Ryan's voice gets so much deeper when he's with Brendon like this, Spencer hardly recognizes it. Until Ryan laughs. When Ryan laughs into Brendon’s ear when he's begging like this, Spencer knows it's him.
Brendon’s gripping at Ryan's boxers, trying to shove them off of the small boy. He fights for a bit, and then Ryan shimmies small hips right out of them and groans at the skin on skin contact, whispering in Brendon’s ear, "you know what to get, I know you can't take it dry, little boy." He's never seen Brendon reach for two things with more efficiency.
Ryan rips open the condom packet with his teeth, before peeling the condom over his cock and letting Brendon squirt lube on his fingers. Ryan doesn't tease him this time; instead, just prepares him, makes him wet and slick so it won't hurt so much. Hovering over Brendon, Ryan asks, "Is this okay?"
Brendon wraps his legs around Ryan’s waist, and says, "Ryan, please, please," and Ryan pushes in.
Brendon gasps, loud and heavy and he fucking loves this feeling. "Don’t. Stop," he whispers. Ryan's thick and hot and swollen and Brendon’s stretched around him.
Above them Spencer can see through the darkness, can see Jon palming himself with his eyes on the ceiling.
Brendon wraps his legs around Ryan and works his hips against his. Ryan's eyes are squeezed shut because, shit, this boy is tight. Brendon's already tightening his muscles around Ryan and it's all just too much and Ryan's hips go frantic, fucking him with no pace, but that's okay, because Brendon’s lost most of the orderly part of his brain.
Spencer's slowly giving in, his erection pressing against his too tight boxers, and one touch won't hurt, will it? So he slides his hand down his body, tweaking a nipple on the way down and running a hand over the tent in his boxers.
Ryan fucks Brendon hard and fast, rocking the whole bunk because Ryan loses all sense of rationality when he's with Brendon like this, when he can see Brendon’s ribs and nipples and skin and neck and throbbing dick; all he can do is give into his lustful instincts. Brendon groans, arching his back and trying to get Ryan deeper and his runs a hand along his own chest, feeling the smooth skin over tightened muscles, grasping his cock but not yet pulling. His whole body shakes as Ryan slams into him, licking along his neck once more.
Jon's wrist jerks quietly and he bites his lip.
Spencer's rubbing his tip, breathing deeply, trying to imagine his girlfriend but all he can think about is Ryan’s cock pounding into Brendon and it should be so wrong and not such a turn on.
Spencer and Jon turn their heads at the same instant, catching each other touching themselves. Jon smiles and Spencer doesn't feel so embarrassed.
Brendon’s head is hitting the wall, but he doesn't care. He wants pain; he wants something to remember this by. Ryan hits his prostate especially hard and Brendon's hand squeezes, and fuck; he's coming, and coming. Spurts hitting his chest and Ryan's. His muscles are tightening around Ryan's cock and he can't do it anymore, he buries himself in deep and let's himself go in the condom, moaning out. The only sounds that he'll ever make while having sex.
Jon's trying to think of Cassie, Cassie and her boobs, Cassie and her pussy, Cassie, a girl. Nothing's coming up but the way he imagines Brendon, all spread out for Ryan, willing, waiting, moaning, and oh god, here he is. He's coming to the image of his front man spread out for his guitarist.
Spencer and Jon can't have known this, but at the same time, they come in their hands, desperately trying to think of their girlfriends but instead only imagining their best friends, just below them, fucking like mad.
Ryan kisses Brendon’s jaw, messily, their lips joining lazily; exchanging saliva and not even caring right now, with Ryan still buried inside and Brendon still trying to hold him close. Brendon’s hand is resting in the mess of his semen on his stomach, and as Ryan pulls out, he lets his tongue drag in the mess, licking it up and tasting Brendon as Brendon makes a soft noise of appreciation. Above them, they can hear Jon shifting in his bunk, and Brendon bites his lip worried.
"Do you think they know?" Ryan mouths, his tongue and lips still covered with Brendon semen, and the sight makes Brendon’s heart thump wildly.
Brendon shakes his head, they would have said something if they knew. They would have asked to join in, or told them to stop fucking like rabbits. The sight on Ryan's lips is too enticing and Brendon leans to him and kisses him, all tongue and lazy mouths. When Brendon pulls back, breathing heavy, Ryan's smirking and shaking his head and whispering, "They'll never know."
Spencer and Ryan fucked, once.
They were sixteen, experimenting, and Spencer’s bedroom door was locked as Ryan took Spencer from behind, awkward and fumbling as Ryan’s hands smoothed up and down Spencer’s sides, trying to keep some kind of rhythm but his inexperience showed.
But Ryan wasn't like how he was like when he's with Brendon; he didn't tease, there were no secret and knowing smiles, no "are you okay’s. They weren't in love, they were just fucking. They were best friends, and they cared, of course they cared, but it wasn't the same. Afterwards, with Ryan naked next to him -and it still amazes him how nudity never seemed to be an issue between them- Ryan asked, "did I hurt you?"
Yes, it fucking hurt and Spencer’s ass was sore, but Spencer just said, "no, no it was okay." and Ryan had just smiled, and they kissed again.
It didn't last long, the sex thing, and Spencer realizes now, as he listens and peeves on Brendon and Ryan, why it would have never worked.
"I love you," they all hear Brendon whisper, and Ryan just hums. Spencer's never heard Ryan say those three words, ever.
Ryan thinks about it sometimes, thinks about how horrible that was, thinks about how somehow it helped their friendship. There wasn't anything that they hadn't gone through together. He'll never tell Brendon that, never tell him that his first time was with Spencer, and not someone else. Ryan can't remember who it was that he told Brendon his first time was with, and he doesn't think it'll ever come up, well, he hopes not.
Brendon sighs audibly. He knows Ryan won't say it, and he knows Ryan does love him, but he would really like to hear it. Spencer tells Hayley, and Jon tells Cassie, but Ryan won't tell him, not even when they are alone together like this.
There was a reason Ryan had never bothered to say I love you out loud. You know, you always lose what you love.
His mother, his father, his friends; he loved them and look what happened there.
Ryan stopped saying it all together, and out of pure fear, never even said the friendly, "love you too" to Spencer, but he knows Spencer understands.
"Ryan?" Brendon whispers, and really, he has no idea that there's three people listening, not just Ryan. "I know you love me."
"Shut up," Ryan mutters, pressing his lips to Brendon’s, because he doesn’t want to, can't, lose this. Brendon with the trusting eyes and goofy smile, and always willing to sit with Ryan, even when he's in a bitchy mood and snaps so much that Brendon just laughs and kisses his forehead. He remembers taking Brendon’s virginity, taking and taking, and giving himself in small parts as well; he just can't say those words.
Brendon smiles, he smiles that soft smile that Ryan knows he loves, the smile he won't admit he loves because he can't stand to lose that smile. "It's okay," Ryan hears him whisper. And maybe, just this once, Ryan does think it's going to be okay.
Spencer can hardly stand to listen anymore, he can hardly take the impact of it all, Spencer’s the one that has been there the whole time, the one that picked Ryan up with he was down, fixed him when he was broken. The only thing that is keeping Spencer content is the funny snoring coming from Jon's bunk.
Spencer never thought he'd be the jealous type; he loves Haley, he really, truly does, but maybe it's just the fact that Brendon is able to get something that Spencer will never, ever get that makes it sting. All those night, joking to try and keep Ryan from being sad while cleaning his wounds, or hiding out somewhere because Ryan’s dad is falling down drunk but still able to swing a mean punch. Spencer cares, and Spencer wants Ryan to care like Ryan cares about Brendon, but he knows it's a false hope. In fact, Spencer focuses so much on this hope he rarely notices how sometimes Jon sneaks a few clicking of his camera to capture Spencer, or how Jon stands close when it's cold, and smiles that funny smile. He's too busy thinking about what he doesn't have to notice that sometimes Cassie gets angry because all Jon can talk about is Spencer.
Ryan, still crouched in the bunk and his blood pumping with adrenalin, Ryan thinks maybe he could say the words, maybe if they meant that much to Brendon.
Spencer wonders whether it would hurt to hear Ryan say it to someone else, before him.
That's all Jon dreams about. Spencer, Spencer, and Spencer. He can't stop it, and he blames it on the fact that he can't choose what he dreams about. But he thinks like that as well, mostly Spencer and, well, quite frankly no Cassie. He wants to love Cassie; he wants to think about her like he thinks about Spencer. When he fucks Cassie all he can think about is soft hips and dark hair, that baby face that he has.
When Spencer glances at Jon's sleeping form, he doesn't know that right now, in Jon's mind, he's a king.
Ryan takes a deep breath and speaks, "I..." and trails off.
Brendon watches him, and Ryan moves closer, whispering in his ear, "I love you."
Spencer can't hear, he's too far away.
That one statement, that was for Brendon and Brendon only. Cupping Ryan’s cheeks, he makes their lips meet, and smiles against them. No one knows exactly what it is about Brendon that can turn Ryan like this, that can make him open up and reveal himself.
Jon's dreaming, right now, that Spencer sitting there, laughing that light laugh of his with strands of hair falling into his face, and always, always in Jon’s dream does Jon lean forward to brush the hair away, and kiss Spencer’s lips. Once, when Jon was asleep with Cassie next to him, he moaned out, softly, "Spence." since then, Cassie has known, and fuck, she loves Jon too much to let him go. She knows one day, Jon will sort it out, will realize what he wants and go for it. Until then, Cassie just enjoys the ride.