Bandslash: Ryan/Patrick
Title: Luckier
Fandom: Bandslash
Pairing: Ryan/Patrick
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,479
Summary: When Patrick wakes up the next morning, Ryan isn’t anywhere near him, but the bed sheet is still warm.
Notes: This is a sequel to The Luckiest, so you should probably read that first. Thanks to chopsticknoodle for the wonderful beta.
When Patrick wakes up the next morning, Ryan isn’t anywhere near him, but the bed sheet is still warm. He runs a hand over the spot, trying not to think about the fact that he just slept with Ryan in Pete’s bed. Yeah, Ryan promised to wash everything and even joked about it not being his first time in the bed, but it was still a bit unsettling.
Then Ryan walks in wearing a big fluffy bathrobe and Patrick decides it’s horribly unsettling.
He tries to look comfortable and suave and is pretty sure he comes up somewhere around nervous and kinda freaked out. The bathrobe is bright pink and has two R’s embroidered right over Ryan’s heart. Patrick kind of hates Pete sometimes.
“It’s uh...I complained. A lot. About my skin and chaffing and rough sheets and maybe Pete decided it was a good thing to do. I leave it here and it’s ugly and not even soft and I should probably just throw it out, right? Sorry,” Ryan says, the words tumbling together as he rushes to get them out. Patrick smiles, snorting a bit as he sits up and sleepily rubs his eyes.
“It’s not like I don’t know what you used to do, right? It wasn’t the best kept secret,” Patrick tells him. And Ryan looks so out of place that it would be funny if Patrick didn’t think Ryan was about to bolt or tell him that the previous night was fine and everything, but he really preferred Pete after all.
“I’ll be your biggest mistake,” Ryan says lamely, his face scrunching up in laughter as he walks towards the bed. “God, that was lame. I know it wouldn’t seem like it, but I’m all nervous and torn up right now. I…I’m all cool and cold on the outside but whenever I’m around you my brain goes to hell.”
“Wow, thanks,” Patrick says, laughing. Ryan blushes, and it’s the most adorable thing Patrick’s ever seen.
“I mean that the fucking robe doesn’t matter, ok? Christ, I am the worst boyfriend ever. This is why I don’t do things like this,” Ryan spits out, and he’s frowning, but there are little crinkles around the corners of his eyes that Patrick just wants to kiss.
So he does.
“I get lost in my music and forget to call. I blush easily, am a fashion disaster if not looked after, and I could stand to lose a few pounds. If we’re stating our flaws and everything,” Patrick says, holding Ryan’s gaze.
And then Ryan laughs - the sound making Patrick’s chest tighten in weird ways - and falls into Patrick’s lap. He’s still laughing when their mouths crush together, a clash of teeth and tongue before they gets things sorted out. But then it’s perfect, hot and wet and just a bit sloppy.
Patrick’s never been a romantic, but he’s pretty sure he could live on air and Ryan Ross.
The bathrobe is soft beneath Patrick’s hands, and he can see why Ryan loves it. Still, he undoes the tie, parting the material as he runs his hands down Ryan’s chest. He brushes his fingers across Ryan’s abs, smirking when he inhales sharply and leans into the touch. Ryan clings to him, half in Patrick’s lap and half on the bed, as Patrick dips down and sucks on the hollow of Ryan’s throat.
Ryan groans, the sounds getting caught in his chest, and arches into the touch. Patrick settles his hands on Ryan’s hips and holds him still, nipping lazily at the curve of his neck. Ryan’s skin is salty on his tongue, and Patrick can feel the steady thump of his pulse beneath his tongue.
And then Ryan seems to realize that Patrick’s equally naked, just covered by the bed sheets. He scoots back, all grace and sex, and tugs at the sheets, sliding them off of Patrick’s body. Patrick wants to cover up again, and can feel the blush creeping across his cheeks. But Ryan just grins - a strange sight, but one Patrick could get used to - and crawls up the bed, covering Patrick’s body with his own.
“Didn’t get to do this last night,” Ryan mumbles somewhere around Patrick’s bellybutton before dipping his head and licking up the length of Patrick’s cock. He whimpers at the small touch and fists his hands in the sheets. But Ryan reaches over, one hand still wrapped around the base of Patrick’s dick, and grabs Patrick’s hand, bringing it up to his hair. He smirks at Patrick before lapping at the head of his cock.
Patrick brushes Ryan’s bangs out of his eyes and leans up on his elbows, his entire body on fire as Ryan works his tongue over him. Then Ryan sucks the head of his cock into his mouth and Patrick cries out, bucking his hips slightly before reining the feeling in. He threads his fingers in Ryan’s hair, tugging experimentally. Ryan hums around his cock and sucks harder, so Patrick tightens his hold.
He stares down at Ryan, his lips stretched out and red around Patrick’s dick. Ryan’s hair is soft against Patrick’s fingers, and his mouth is wet around his cock. Patrick can’t stand the feeling of it all, can’t believe he got so fucking lucky.
Ryan’s mouth is hot and all kind of fantastic. But then he sinks down lower, his nose brushing against Patrick’s pubes. His eyes go wide as he watches Ryan swallow him down, and he loses it, coming before he can even warn Ryan. Ryan backs up a bit, but drinks him down, working him through orgasm.
Patrick’s still panting when Ryan climbs up his body, dipping down to kiss him. He tastes himself on Ryan’s lips, slides his tongue into the warm cavern of Ryan’s mouth to get more. He pulls back, looking up at Ryan before saying, “Fuck me.”
Ryan stills above him, chews on his lower lips for a second before asking, “You sure?” Patrick nods and Ryan reaches for his discarded robe, sifting through the pocket for a second before pulling out a tube of lube. “How do you?” he asks, waving his hand around vaguely. Patrick smiles up at him before speaking.
“Like this. Want to see you,” he whispers, reveling in the way Ryan shivers before opening the lube.
His fingers are slick at Patrick’s entrance, cool as he presses the first digit in. Patrick inhales harshly, not used to the feeling anymore. It gets easier with each added finger, which every soothing words Ryan mumbles as he works him open. Then it’s amazing, Ryan’s knuckle brushes against that spot and causes Patrick to go momentarily blind as he moans and writhes on the mattress.
“Ready...please, Ryan,” He chokes out, his breath coming fast and his arms heavy as he reaches up to grasp Ryan’s shoulders.
And then Ryan pushes in, slowly working his way inside. There’s a slow burn that’s quickly covered up with heat, with the feeling of Ryan’s hands on his hips and Ryan’s cock in his ass. Patrick hooks his ankles together behind Ryan’s back and tries not to fall apart.
Only Ryan’s moving just right, filling him so sweetly that he’s hard and aching before he can realize what’s going on. And Ryan stares down at him, wonder in his eyes as he rolls his hips. He shifts, thrusting deeper, and Patrick whimpers again and digs his fingernails into Ryan’s shoulders. He knows he’s leaving little half-moon marks across his back, but he doesn’t care, wants to mark Ryan, lives for it, even.
Ryan leans back and snakes a hand between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around Patrick’s cock. He shakes his head, signaling that he can’t - can’t even imagine - come again. Ryan’s sucked him dry, but it doesn’t work. Because Ryan just laughs softly and starts jacking him in time with his thrusts. It’s torturous, the double attack on his senses.
“Come for me,” Ryan says, his voice raw and fucked out. The monotone does something to Patrick’s insides, and suddenly he’s coming, spilling himself over Ryan’s thin fingers. Ryan fucks him harder, his hips stuttering as he slams into Patrick. A few more thrusts and then he stills, arching his back as he empties himself inside of Patrick.
After a few moments, Ryan bends down and kisses Patrick quickly, chaste compared to everything they’ve just done. He pulls out with a sigh and wraps himself around Patrick’s body, their legs and arms a sweat-clicked tangle. Patrick for gets about the mess - on Pete’s sheets for fuck’s sake - and nuzzles Ryan’s neck.
“Pete might kill us,” Patrick says eventually.
“I can run a washing machine,” Ryan says, laughing as he tightens his hold on Patrick.
“My boyfriend’s a genius,” Patrick tells him, only half mocking.
“Aren’t you fucking lucky,” Ryan says dryly.
And yeah, he really really is.
Fandom: Bandslash
Pairing: Ryan/Patrick
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,479
Summary: When Patrick wakes up the next morning, Ryan isn’t anywhere near him, but the bed sheet is still warm.
Notes: This is a sequel to The Luckiest, so you should probably read that first. Thanks to chopsticknoodle for the wonderful beta.
When Patrick wakes up the next morning, Ryan isn’t anywhere near him, but the bed sheet is still warm. He runs a hand over the spot, trying not to think about the fact that he just slept with Ryan in Pete’s bed. Yeah, Ryan promised to wash everything and even joked about it not being his first time in the bed, but it was still a bit unsettling.
Then Ryan walks in wearing a big fluffy bathrobe and Patrick decides it’s horribly unsettling.
He tries to look comfortable and suave and is pretty sure he comes up somewhere around nervous and kinda freaked out. The bathrobe is bright pink and has two R’s embroidered right over Ryan’s heart. Patrick kind of hates Pete sometimes.
“It’s uh...I complained. A lot. About my skin and chaffing and rough sheets and maybe Pete decided it was a good thing to do. I leave it here and it’s ugly and not even soft and I should probably just throw it out, right? Sorry,” Ryan says, the words tumbling together as he rushes to get them out. Patrick smiles, snorting a bit as he sits up and sleepily rubs his eyes.
“It’s not like I don’t know what you used to do, right? It wasn’t the best kept secret,” Patrick tells him. And Ryan looks so out of place that it would be funny if Patrick didn’t think Ryan was about to bolt or tell him that the previous night was fine and everything, but he really preferred Pete after all.
“I’ll be your biggest mistake,” Ryan says lamely, his face scrunching up in laughter as he walks towards the bed. “God, that was lame. I know it wouldn’t seem like it, but I’m all nervous and torn up right now. I…I’m all cool and cold on the outside but whenever I’m around you my brain goes to hell.”
“Wow, thanks,” Patrick says, laughing. Ryan blushes, and it’s the most adorable thing Patrick’s ever seen.
“I mean that the fucking robe doesn’t matter, ok? Christ, I am the worst boyfriend ever. This is why I don’t do things like this,” Ryan spits out, and he’s frowning, but there are little crinkles around the corners of his eyes that Patrick just wants to kiss.
So he does.
“I get lost in my music and forget to call. I blush easily, am a fashion disaster if not looked after, and I could stand to lose a few pounds. If we’re stating our flaws and everything,” Patrick says, holding Ryan’s gaze.
And then Ryan laughs - the sound making Patrick’s chest tighten in weird ways - and falls into Patrick’s lap. He’s still laughing when their mouths crush together, a clash of teeth and tongue before they gets things sorted out. But then it’s perfect, hot and wet and just a bit sloppy.
Patrick’s never been a romantic, but he’s pretty sure he could live on air and Ryan Ross.
The bathrobe is soft beneath Patrick’s hands, and he can see why Ryan loves it. Still, he undoes the tie, parting the material as he runs his hands down Ryan’s chest. He brushes his fingers across Ryan’s abs, smirking when he inhales sharply and leans into the touch. Ryan clings to him, half in Patrick’s lap and half on the bed, as Patrick dips down and sucks on the hollow of Ryan’s throat.
Ryan groans, the sounds getting caught in his chest, and arches into the touch. Patrick settles his hands on Ryan’s hips and holds him still, nipping lazily at the curve of his neck. Ryan’s skin is salty on his tongue, and Patrick can feel the steady thump of his pulse beneath his tongue.
And then Ryan seems to realize that Patrick’s equally naked, just covered by the bed sheets. He scoots back, all grace and sex, and tugs at the sheets, sliding them off of Patrick’s body. Patrick wants to cover up again, and can feel the blush creeping across his cheeks. But Ryan just grins - a strange sight, but one Patrick could get used to - and crawls up the bed, covering Patrick’s body with his own.
“Didn’t get to do this last night,” Ryan mumbles somewhere around Patrick’s bellybutton before dipping his head and licking up the length of Patrick’s cock. He whimpers at the small touch and fists his hands in the sheets. But Ryan reaches over, one hand still wrapped around the base of Patrick’s dick, and grabs Patrick’s hand, bringing it up to his hair. He smirks at Patrick before lapping at the head of his cock.
Patrick brushes Ryan’s bangs out of his eyes and leans up on his elbows, his entire body on fire as Ryan works his tongue over him. Then Ryan sucks the head of his cock into his mouth and Patrick cries out, bucking his hips slightly before reining the feeling in. He threads his fingers in Ryan’s hair, tugging experimentally. Ryan hums around his cock and sucks harder, so Patrick tightens his hold.
He stares down at Ryan, his lips stretched out and red around Patrick’s dick. Ryan’s hair is soft against Patrick’s fingers, and his mouth is wet around his cock. Patrick can’t stand the feeling of it all, can’t believe he got so fucking lucky.
Ryan’s mouth is hot and all kind of fantastic. But then he sinks down lower, his nose brushing against Patrick’s pubes. His eyes go wide as he watches Ryan swallow him down, and he loses it, coming before he can even warn Ryan. Ryan backs up a bit, but drinks him down, working him through orgasm.
Patrick’s still panting when Ryan climbs up his body, dipping down to kiss him. He tastes himself on Ryan’s lips, slides his tongue into the warm cavern of Ryan’s mouth to get more. He pulls back, looking up at Ryan before saying, “Fuck me.”
Ryan stills above him, chews on his lower lips for a second before asking, “You sure?” Patrick nods and Ryan reaches for his discarded robe, sifting through the pocket for a second before pulling out a tube of lube. “How do you?” he asks, waving his hand around vaguely. Patrick smiles up at him before speaking.
“Like this. Want to see you,” he whispers, reveling in the way Ryan shivers before opening the lube.
His fingers are slick at Patrick’s entrance, cool as he presses the first digit in. Patrick inhales harshly, not used to the feeling anymore. It gets easier with each added finger, which every soothing words Ryan mumbles as he works him open. Then it’s amazing, Ryan’s knuckle brushes against that spot and causes Patrick to go momentarily blind as he moans and writhes on the mattress.
“Ready...please, Ryan,” He chokes out, his breath coming fast and his arms heavy as he reaches up to grasp Ryan’s shoulders.
And then Ryan pushes in, slowly working his way inside. There’s a slow burn that’s quickly covered up with heat, with the feeling of Ryan’s hands on his hips and Ryan’s cock in his ass. Patrick hooks his ankles together behind Ryan’s back and tries not to fall apart.
Only Ryan’s moving just right, filling him so sweetly that he’s hard and aching before he can realize what’s going on. And Ryan stares down at him, wonder in his eyes as he rolls his hips. He shifts, thrusting deeper, and Patrick whimpers again and digs his fingernails into Ryan’s shoulders. He knows he’s leaving little half-moon marks across his back, but he doesn’t care, wants to mark Ryan, lives for it, even.
Ryan leans back and snakes a hand between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around Patrick’s cock. He shakes his head, signaling that he can’t - can’t even imagine - come again. Ryan’s sucked him dry, but it doesn’t work. Because Ryan just laughs softly and starts jacking him in time with his thrusts. It’s torturous, the double attack on his senses.
“Come for me,” Ryan says, his voice raw and fucked out. The monotone does something to Patrick’s insides, and suddenly he’s coming, spilling himself over Ryan’s thin fingers. Ryan fucks him harder, his hips stuttering as he slams into Patrick. A few more thrusts and then he stills, arching his back as he empties himself inside of Patrick.
After a few moments, Ryan bends down and kisses Patrick quickly, chaste compared to everything they’ve just done. He pulls out with a sigh and wraps himself around Patrick’s body, their legs and arms a sweat-clicked tangle. Patrick for gets about the mess - on Pete’s sheets for fuck’s sake - and nuzzles Ryan’s neck.
“Pete might kill us,” Patrick says eventually.
“I can run a washing machine,” Ryan says, laughing as he tightens his hold on Patrick.
“My boyfriend’s a genius,” Patrick tells him, only half mocking.
“Aren’t you fucking lucky,” Ryan says dryly.
And yeah, he really really is.