Fic - P!ATD - falling in love (is hard on the knees)
falling in love (is hard on the knees) - tentatively part one of the Right Where It Belongs series
lady_deathangel ~*~ 3,300 words ~*~ NC-17 ~*~ AU ~*~ sexual content, het ~*~ Ryan/girl!Brendon
||DISCLAIMER: This is in no way true. If you came across this by googling your own name or the names of close friends of yours, now might be a good time to hit the back button.
This is a an AU wherein Brendon was born as a girl. Written for disarm_d's Bandom Goes Down (Baby's First Oral). Got a bit out of my hands and so I'm posting it here. I want to continue with this because oh the possibilities! We'll see if I actually do or not. Also, this is pretty much pure porn and is set during the early days of the band, when they were stuck in the van and toured first-of-five-bands with FOB. :D ||
She isn't doing this because she's got something to prove, she's not. At least that's what she tells Ryan when he looks at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed and makes some bullshit remark about that guy who was flirting with her at the last venue.
"What?" he says, his tone going from shocked to vitriolic in a matter of seconds. "Wait, let me guess. That guy wanted in your pants and you freaked out and now you're trying to use me to prove you're really not a prude on top of a virgin."
Bren narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest because Ryan's right, he usually is, but that's not what this is about. It's about the fact that even if Bren does this, that doesn't change who she is. She's not a slut. She's not cool enough to be a slut. She can't just suck some guy's dick and sleep with another one in a different state and then, when Pete curls an arm around her shoulders and asks about groupies, be flippant and smooth and mysterious.
But the thing is, that guy at the venue wanted Bren. He hadn't known what a dork she really is, didn't know she's a virgin, didn't know any of it. He saw Bren and thought she was hot and then, when she smiled at him and talked to him after the show and let him talk her into going outside, he didn't even kiss her. Just put a hand on her shoulders and pushed her to her knees.
Bren almost did it and then she looked up and wanted to run. For one terrifying second she saw his shit-eating grin and thought he wouldn't let her, but he did. And he laughed at her.
Now she's asking Ryan to let her blow him and he's being a dick about it. Which, okay, it's an odd request but if she's going to do it, she wants it to be with someone she likes, someone she's attracted to (someone she's halfway in love with), not a stranger or an asshole. And she knows that the chances of anyone seeing her and wanting to actually get to know her and, like, date her? Are slim.
She stares at Ryan and tries to telepathically communicate this to him because she can't say it out loud. She's already lame enough, she doesn't want to be that girl on top of it. He just stares blandly, meanly, back. Bren huffs out a sigh and hates him a little for a split second before deflating completely.
"If you're going to be a douche about it, then nevermind," she says, turning on her heel.
She isn't sure where she'll go. Hang out with Spencer and Brent, maybe. Maybe try to find Patrick. She's nearly to the tiny hotel room's door when familiar, long fingers close around her upper-arm and draw her to a halt.
"Wait," Ryan says, and he's so close his breath ghosts across the back of Bren's neck and makes her shiver. "Don't get upset, okay? I just don't want you doing something you'll regret."
Bren rolls her eyes and pulls out of Ryan's hold, turning to glare at him. "Last night? Some stranger in an alley? That would have been a regret. I won't regret you. I'm never going to regret a thing about you, asshole."
Ryan blinks and Bren feels herself blushing. She hadn't meant to say that, but it's true. She's already left her home and family for Ryan. Sure she did it for Spencer and Brent, too, but mostly Ryan. Most of what she does is for him. That's how it's supposed to be, she's pretty convinced.
Ryan opens his mouth and then closes it. When he opens it again he says, "okay."
"What?" Bren says, voice embarrassingly high-pitched.
Ryan stares at her and Bren stares back and then Ryan smiles and Bren laughs, a little self-consciously. She glances down when Ryan tangles their fingers together, holding onto both of her hands, and she barely has time to look back up before Ryan's pulling her forward and pressing his lips to hers, soft and deliberate. Bren makes a soft sound and kisses back, trying not to be too eager; she doesn't want to be annoying or silly. Ryan nips her lip and pulls back, letting go of one hand so he can palm the back of her head.
"Hey," he says, "stop it."
Bren looks at him, dazed and a little confused. "Stop wha-"
Ryan cuts her off with another kiss, harder this time. He parts Bren's lips with his own and slides his tongue into her mouth, more bold and forceful than anyone else Bren has ever kissed (not that she's been kissed much). Bren isn't sure what to do with her free hand, is suddenly more nervous than when Pete showed up to see them practice all those months, more nervous than for their first live show.
"Bren," Ryan says against her lips, voice low, "are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," she hisses. "What have I been telling you?"
Ryan's lips vibrate against hers like he just laughed silently, and he says, "you're doing a pretty shitty job of showing it."
Bren opens her mouth to retort but Ryan takes the opportunity to lick inside, his tongue clever and languid, and she gasps.
"Kiss me back," he whispers, the words landing light and fire-hot against Bren's lips.
She inhales sharply and meets Ryan's eyes, their faces too close for it to be comfortable, and then she tilts her head back and leans up and kisses Ryan. It's soft at first, Bren learning the feel of Ryan's lips, her tongue a little tentative and too gentle. Ryan makes a noise deep in his throat when Bren grips his hip and opens his mouth to hers. When Bren licks in deep, Ryan hums in pleasure and sucks on her tongue. The sensation is sharp and new and Bren groans into Ryan's mouth.
When Ryan hauls her up against his body, deceptively strong for being a fucking toothpick, Bren circles her arm around his waist and hangs on, kissing him hard, letting him kiss her back the same. One of Ryan's hands is curved over Bren's shoulder, one of hers pushed underneath the fabric of his t-shirt and clutching at his bare back, and nestled at their sides are their tangled fingers, flexing and releasing in time with the rhythmic movements of their mouths.
Eventually they break the kiss and Bren, more confident now, presses her lips to Ryan's jaw and then to the skin just below his ear.
"Can I suck you off now?" she asks, her voice gravelly even to her own ears.
Ryan groans and says, "Bren, fuck."
Bren feels a thrill at Ryan's tone; he's turned on and she knows it, can feel him hard against her belly, but that's nothing. Any guy can get an erection over anything. She's been around boys all her life, she knows. His voice though, breathless and tight, is how Bren knows that he wants this, wants her.
"Can I?" she asks again, because even though she's sure Ryan's saying yes, she wants to hear it.
"Yeah," Ryan grates out. "Yeah, just. Where do you want-"
Bren doesn't even bother following his gaze to the bed; she drops to her knees and shakes her bangs out of her eyes, smiling up at Ryan. He looks down at her, lips parted and chest rising and falling as he inhales and exhales.
"We can do it on the bed so you don't hurt your knees."
Ryan's so earnest that Bren thinks about it for a split second, imagines Ryan sprawled on his back, imagines herself lying on her stomach between his long, skinny legs. Her stomach clenches at the thought, a sharp throb between her legs telling her it would be so, so good, but she wants it this way.
"That's kind of the point, isn't it?" she asks, and she knows her smile is impish.
Ryan rolls his eyes but smiles back, brushes a hand through her hair when she moves her attentions to his pajama pants. She hooks her thumbs in the waistband and tugs down, pajamas and boxers alike. They pool at Ryan's feet and he shifts, kicking them away, but Bren barely notices. She's too busy staring at his cock, big and hard and oh shit.
This time Bren's stomach clenches with another onslaught of nerves and when she glances up at Ryan, he's staring down at her like he won't be offended if she says no, that's okay, I think I'll wait after all. Behind the nerves, though, is anticipation and arousal and Bren realizes with a start that her mouth is watering, her palms sweating, everything about her urging her forward.
She shifts her weight, catching her balance and then she leans forward, still looking up, to press a kiss against Ryan's hip. She's okay, she wants to do this still. The hand on her head clenches in her hair for a brief second before relaxing again, fingers splayed at the back of her skull.
"Okay," he says as she wraps her hand around the base of his cock, tentatively stroking and then pulling it down a bit until the head is even with her lips. "Just . . ."
Ryan trails off into a groan when Bren licks the head experimentally. She wasn't sure what kind of taste she was expecting, but it's nothing like the real thing. She licks again, tongue and mouth already tingling with the heady taste and feel of Ryan's cock.
"What next?" she asks, glancing up Ryan's body.
His shirt is rucked up above his bellybutton, his head tipped forward. His hair is hanging down, framing his cheekbones (and God does he need a haircut), but Bren can feel his eyes hot and steady on her.
"Okay, um, wrap your lips around my dick and," he pauses to make a vague gesture with his free hand, "suck."
Bren bites her lip, amused and nervous, and winces when Ryan pulls her hair to get her attention even though it doesn't really hurt.
"No teeth," he says, like she's stupid and hasn't been listening to all the guys tell blow job horror stories since the tour started, and well before that.
With a smirk, Bren tips her head back and makes an O of her mouth, folding her lips over her teeth in an exaggerated show of how well-mannered she is. Ryan's chuckle is breathless and turns into a choked off hiss of air when Bren tilts her head down and sucks Ryan's cock into her mouth. She goes slow because she wants to do this right, wants Ryan to feel good, wants to remember every second. She sucks on just the head for a few beats and then Ryan's fingers, restless and shaky in her hair, prompt her to slide her mouth down.
It's weird at first, having her mouth full of someone's dick, of Ryan's. She's only been imagining things like this for a couple of years, barely that. She barely learned how to finger herself a few months before she moved out and she can count the actual orgasms she's had on her fingers and toes. In that time, she's always tried to keep her fantasies tame, not necessarily God-approved, but not will-go-to-hell-for-this-immediately either.
She's been curious about this, though, increasingly so over the last few months. Hearing different guys talking about getting head, both good and bad, has made Bren wonder if she's any good at it. The last few times she's gotten time to herself, she's come from thinking of herself on her knees, having her hair pulled, being told what to do.
Actually being on her knees with a cock in her mouth is so intense that Bren pauses for a moment, trying to process it. It isn't until Ryan makes an impatient sound above her that Bren starts moving, sucking up and sliding back down, up and down, up and down, her mouth slipping lower with every bob downward. The next sound that Ryan makes is harsh, more exhale than actual noise, and his hand clenches in Bren's hair.
He's holding himself still, Bren can feel it. She has one hand gripping his hip and her thumb is pressed to his tensed abs. He isn't fucking her mouth like she's seen done in porn. He isn't moving at all. Bren hums, a little disappointed because she wants, wants the whole experience. She doesn't want Ryan to hold back just because she's his bandmate. She's heard what he's like in bed. She wants that. She wants fucking Ryan Ross and has, almost since the first time she saw him.
"Bren," Ryan says, voice low and so goddamn sexy, Bren feels her cunt clench desperately.
She's been so focused on Ryan that she hasn't thought much about herself, but Bren's turned on by this. She's wet, so wet she'd be embarrassed if anyone but her could tell, and she wants a hand between her legs so bad she moans around Ryan's cock.
"Fuck," Ryan groans. "Use your hands, Bren."
Bren hums inquisitively, not sure how she can use both. She settles for stroking the parts of Ryan's cock she can't quite reach with her mouth, encouraged by the way Ryan says her name, says, "yeah, like that, fuck."
Bren's knees are starting to hurt, her jaw beginning to ache. Her lips are slick and when she swipes her tongue over the head of Ryan's cock, his taste explodes on her tongue. She's not sure if he's close until his breath starts hitching audibly and she picks up a fast, hard rhythm. She'll feel this in the morning, stiff jaw, sore throat, but she doesn't care. She wants to make Ryan come undone like she's only heard him do when he think no one is listening. She wants him to come inside of her mouth, to gasp out her name. She wants for Ryan to think about Bren on her knees, her lips stretched wide around his cock, the next time some other girl is in her place.
The sudden possessiveness Bren feels is sharp and scary, but she doesn't stop. She just sucks harder, using her tongue and hand to stroke every inch of skin, scratching her nails over the sensitive skin low on Ryan's belly. His hips hitch, the first sign of movement from him, and his other hand drops to Bren's head. His voice has become a low litany of fuckfuckfuckyesBrenjustlikethatjesusfucksofuckinggood that collects in Bren's ears and ratchets up her own arousal to new, maddening heights. She whimpers when Ryan urges her head forward, takes him in deeper than she has before and manages one hard, reflexive suck before he's coming.
Ryan makes a sound, so low and rough it slams into Bren's body, a battering of her ribs, a clumsy rub of her clit, and she needs to get off, needs it so badly that she doesn't even freak out at the first splash of cum against her tongue. She just relaxes into it, into the hold Ryan has on her head, moaning back at Ryan, thinking urgently pleasepleaseplease. Ryan's hands grip her hair so hard it hurts, but it's a good pain, and then he loosens his hold and Bren pulls off.
Her mouth is full and she's not sure what to do. She doesn't have anywhere to spit and she can feel some of Ryan's cum dribbling onto her chin and collected in the corner of her mouth. Bren decides to swallow, knocking it back like a shot of liquor, and squeaks when Ryan yanks her up by her elbows. They stare at each other for a long moment, Ryan's eyes heavily-lidded and his breath coming in uneven pants.
Bren licks the corner of her mouth clean, swallows again. Ryan doesn't say anything and she wants to ask if she did okay, if he's upset or something, if she fucked up somehow, but she can't make a sound. She's rigid in Ryan's hold, thighs pressed together against the ache between her legs. Ryan doesn't say anything either, just leans forward and kisses her dirty and deep and rough.
Bren groans and brings her hands up to clutch at the t-shirt Ryan's still wearing. She lets him kiss her, not because she's freaking out this time, but because she wants to give herself over to him. He fucks her mouth with his tongue, brutal and precise, and her cunt throbs in sympathy and Bren would let Ryan rip her pants off right now, she'd let him fuck her hard and fast up against the wall, and that scares her. That's not what this is about, it's not. She's not proving herself and she isn't supposed to want more.
Dangerous. This is so dangerous. Ryan pulls away, lips hot and sloppy against her jaw and then her throat.
"Let me," he says, holding his hand to her belly and then teasing his fingers under the waistband of the jeans she's been wearing since last night.
Bren moans and is so tempted to let him, but she can't, fuck, she's so far gone and if she goes any further she won't even be herself anymore. She'll be Ryan's. Ryan's forever.
"I can't," Bren says, pushing away and stumbling back, ignoring Ryan's shocked look. "I'll. I'm."
She shakes her head, confused and needy, and barricades herself in the bathroom. She presses her back to the door and fumbles to get her pants undone, whimpering when her fingers can't work the button and then take forever to pull down the zipper. She sobs out a moan when she finally gets her hand underneath the waistband of her panties; her fingers slip over the folds of her cunt, she's so hot and wet, and when her fingertips brush her clit her head falls back against the bathroom door with a thunk.
She rubs, careless and frantic, the ache gathering and spiraling higher and higher, the pleasure getting sharp around the edges, threatening to cut her open. She's gasping too loudly, knows that Ryan can hear if he's still outside, but she doesn't care. She just presses her fingers harder to her clit, rubs faster, eyes closed with Ryan's face still fresh in her mind, his taste and feel a brand new sensory memory. One of her fingernails scrapes a little and it hurts, but that flash of pain is what pushes Bren over the edge.
Her orgasm lingers heavy, low and deep in her belly, for a split second before it overwhelms her. Bren's hips push off of the door, her fingers still moving hard and quick, her lips parted on a moan that she keeps behind clenched teeth. It lasts for an endless minute and then Bren's knees are buckling and she's sliding to the floor. She pulls her hand from between her legs, wiping it on her shirt, still shocky and sensitive.
There's a dull knock on the outside of the door and Bren sucks in a breath, thumps her fist against the door in return.
"Just a sec," she says, trying to sound bright and not like she's having a crisis of epic proportions.
Ryan doesn't say anything, but when Bren finally walks out, still a little breathless and unsteady, she and Ryan look at each other and it's obvious they're going to try to be natural. Bren can deal with that. She smiles when Ryan raises an eyebrow and thinks I don't know what just happened, but I still don't regret you Ryan Ross.
Ryan smiles back like maybe he knows.
Part Two
lady_deathangel ~*~ 3,300 words ~*~ NC-17 ~*~ AU ~*~ sexual content, het ~*~ Ryan/girl!Brendon
||DISCLAIMER: This is in no way true. If you came across this by googling your own name or the names of close friends of yours, now might be a good time to hit the back button.
This is a an AU wherein Brendon was born as a girl. Written for disarm_d's Bandom Goes Down (Baby's First Oral). Got a bit out of my hands and so I'm posting it here. I want to continue with this because oh the possibilities! We'll see if I actually do or not. Also, this is pretty much pure porn and is set during the early days of the band, when they were stuck in the van and toured first-of-five-bands with FOB. :D ||
She isn't doing this because she's got something to prove, she's not. At least that's what she tells Ryan when he looks at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed and makes some bullshit remark about that guy who was flirting with her at the last venue.
"What?" he says, his tone going from shocked to vitriolic in a matter of seconds. "Wait, let me guess. That guy wanted in your pants and you freaked out and now you're trying to use me to prove you're really not a prude on top of a virgin."
Bren narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest because Ryan's right, he usually is, but that's not what this is about. It's about the fact that even if Bren does this, that doesn't change who she is. She's not a slut. She's not cool enough to be a slut. She can't just suck some guy's dick and sleep with another one in a different state and then, when Pete curls an arm around her shoulders and asks about groupies, be flippant and smooth and mysterious.
But the thing is, that guy at the venue wanted Bren. He hadn't known what a dork she really is, didn't know she's a virgin, didn't know any of it. He saw Bren and thought she was hot and then, when she smiled at him and talked to him after the show and let him talk her into going outside, he didn't even kiss her. Just put a hand on her shoulders and pushed her to her knees.
Bren almost did it and then she looked up and wanted to run. For one terrifying second she saw his shit-eating grin and thought he wouldn't let her, but he did. And he laughed at her.
Now she's asking Ryan to let her blow him and he's being a dick about it. Which, okay, it's an odd request but if she's going to do it, she wants it to be with someone she likes, someone she's attracted to (someone she's halfway in love with), not a stranger or an asshole. And she knows that the chances of anyone seeing her and wanting to actually get to know her and, like, date her? Are slim.
She stares at Ryan and tries to telepathically communicate this to him because she can't say it out loud. She's already lame enough, she doesn't want to be that girl on top of it. He just stares blandly, meanly, back. Bren huffs out a sigh and hates him a little for a split second before deflating completely.
"If you're going to be a douche about it, then nevermind," she says, turning on her heel.
She isn't sure where she'll go. Hang out with Spencer and Brent, maybe. Maybe try to find Patrick. She's nearly to the tiny hotel room's door when familiar, long fingers close around her upper-arm and draw her to a halt.
"Wait," Ryan says, and he's so close his breath ghosts across the back of Bren's neck and makes her shiver. "Don't get upset, okay? I just don't want you doing something you'll regret."
Bren rolls her eyes and pulls out of Ryan's hold, turning to glare at him. "Last night? Some stranger in an alley? That would have been a regret. I won't regret you. I'm never going to regret a thing about you, asshole."
Ryan blinks and Bren feels herself blushing. She hadn't meant to say that, but it's true. She's already left her home and family for Ryan. Sure she did it for Spencer and Brent, too, but mostly Ryan. Most of what she does is for him. That's how it's supposed to be, she's pretty convinced.
Ryan opens his mouth and then closes it. When he opens it again he says, "okay."
"What?" Bren says, voice embarrassingly high-pitched.
Ryan stares at her and Bren stares back and then Ryan smiles and Bren laughs, a little self-consciously. She glances down when Ryan tangles their fingers together, holding onto both of her hands, and she barely has time to look back up before Ryan's pulling her forward and pressing his lips to hers, soft and deliberate. Bren makes a soft sound and kisses back, trying not to be too eager; she doesn't want to be annoying or silly. Ryan nips her lip and pulls back, letting go of one hand so he can palm the back of her head.
"Hey," he says, "stop it."
Bren looks at him, dazed and a little confused. "Stop wha-"
Ryan cuts her off with another kiss, harder this time. He parts Bren's lips with his own and slides his tongue into her mouth, more bold and forceful than anyone else Bren has ever kissed (not that she's been kissed much). Bren isn't sure what to do with her free hand, is suddenly more nervous than when Pete showed up to see them practice all those months, more nervous than for their first live show.
"Bren," Ryan says against her lips, voice low, "are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," she hisses. "What have I been telling you?"
Ryan's lips vibrate against hers like he just laughed silently, and he says, "you're doing a pretty shitty job of showing it."
Bren opens her mouth to retort but Ryan takes the opportunity to lick inside, his tongue clever and languid, and she gasps.
"Kiss me back," he whispers, the words landing light and fire-hot against Bren's lips.
She inhales sharply and meets Ryan's eyes, their faces too close for it to be comfortable, and then she tilts her head back and leans up and kisses Ryan. It's soft at first, Bren learning the feel of Ryan's lips, her tongue a little tentative and too gentle. Ryan makes a noise deep in his throat when Bren grips his hip and opens his mouth to hers. When Bren licks in deep, Ryan hums in pleasure and sucks on her tongue. The sensation is sharp and new and Bren groans into Ryan's mouth.
When Ryan hauls her up against his body, deceptively strong for being a fucking toothpick, Bren circles her arm around his waist and hangs on, kissing him hard, letting him kiss her back the same. One of Ryan's hands is curved over Bren's shoulder, one of hers pushed underneath the fabric of his t-shirt and clutching at his bare back, and nestled at their sides are their tangled fingers, flexing and releasing in time with the rhythmic movements of their mouths.
Eventually they break the kiss and Bren, more confident now, presses her lips to Ryan's jaw and then to the skin just below his ear.
"Can I suck you off now?" she asks, her voice gravelly even to her own ears.
Ryan groans and says, "Bren, fuck."
Bren feels a thrill at Ryan's tone; he's turned on and she knows it, can feel him hard against her belly, but that's nothing. Any guy can get an erection over anything. She's been around boys all her life, she knows. His voice though, breathless and tight, is how Bren knows that he wants this, wants her.
"Can I?" she asks again, because even though she's sure Ryan's saying yes, she wants to hear it.
"Yeah," Ryan grates out. "Yeah, just. Where do you want-"
Bren doesn't even bother following his gaze to the bed; she drops to her knees and shakes her bangs out of her eyes, smiling up at Ryan. He looks down at her, lips parted and chest rising and falling as he inhales and exhales.
"We can do it on the bed so you don't hurt your knees."
Ryan's so earnest that Bren thinks about it for a split second, imagines Ryan sprawled on his back, imagines herself lying on her stomach between his long, skinny legs. Her stomach clenches at the thought, a sharp throb between her legs telling her it would be so, so good, but she wants it this way.
"That's kind of the point, isn't it?" she asks, and she knows her smile is impish.
Ryan rolls his eyes but smiles back, brushes a hand through her hair when she moves her attentions to his pajama pants. She hooks her thumbs in the waistband and tugs down, pajamas and boxers alike. They pool at Ryan's feet and he shifts, kicking them away, but Bren barely notices. She's too busy staring at his cock, big and hard and oh shit.
This time Bren's stomach clenches with another onslaught of nerves and when she glances up at Ryan, he's staring down at her like he won't be offended if she says no, that's okay, I think I'll wait after all. Behind the nerves, though, is anticipation and arousal and Bren realizes with a start that her mouth is watering, her palms sweating, everything about her urging her forward.
She shifts her weight, catching her balance and then she leans forward, still looking up, to press a kiss against Ryan's hip. She's okay, she wants to do this still. The hand on her head clenches in her hair for a brief second before relaxing again, fingers splayed at the back of her skull.
"Okay," he says as she wraps her hand around the base of his cock, tentatively stroking and then pulling it down a bit until the head is even with her lips. "Just . . ."
Ryan trails off into a groan when Bren licks the head experimentally. She wasn't sure what kind of taste she was expecting, but it's nothing like the real thing. She licks again, tongue and mouth already tingling with the heady taste and feel of Ryan's cock.
"What next?" she asks, glancing up Ryan's body.
His shirt is rucked up above his bellybutton, his head tipped forward. His hair is hanging down, framing his cheekbones (and God does he need a haircut), but Bren can feel his eyes hot and steady on her.
"Okay, um, wrap your lips around my dick and," he pauses to make a vague gesture with his free hand, "suck."
Bren bites her lip, amused and nervous, and winces when Ryan pulls her hair to get her attention even though it doesn't really hurt.
"No teeth," he says, like she's stupid and hasn't been listening to all the guys tell blow job horror stories since the tour started, and well before that.
With a smirk, Bren tips her head back and makes an O of her mouth, folding her lips over her teeth in an exaggerated show of how well-mannered she is. Ryan's chuckle is breathless and turns into a choked off hiss of air when Bren tilts her head down and sucks Ryan's cock into her mouth. She goes slow because she wants to do this right, wants Ryan to feel good, wants to remember every second. She sucks on just the head for a few beats and then Ryan's fingers, restless and shaky in her hair, prompt her to slide her mouth down.
It's weird at first, having her mouth full of someone's dick, of Ryan's. She's only been imagining things like this for a couple of years, barely that. She barely learned how to finger herself a few months before she moved out and she can count the actual orgasms she's had on her fingers and toes. In that time, she's always tried to keep her fantasies tame, not necessarily God-approved, but not will-go-to-hell-for-this-immediately either.
She's been curious about this, though, increasingly so over the last few months. Hearing different guys talking about getting head, both good and bad, has made Bren wonder if she's any good at it. The last few times she's gotten time to herself, she's come from thinking of herself on her knees, having her hair pulled, being told what to do.
Actually being on her knees with a cock in her mouth is so intense that Bren pauses for a moment, trying to process it. It isn't until Ryan makes an impatient sound above her that Bren starts moving, sucking up and sliding back down, up and down, up and down, her mouth slipping lower with every bob downward. The next sound that Ryan makes is harsh, more exhale than actual noise, and his hand clenches in Bren's hair.
He's holding himself still, Bren can feel it. She has one hand gripping his hip and her thumb is pressed to his tensed abs. He isn't fucking her mouth like she's seen done in porn. He isn't moving at all. Bren hums, a little disappointed because she wants, wants the whole experience. She doesn't want Ryan to hold back just because she's his bandmate. She's heard what he's like in bed. She wants that. She wants fucking Ryan Ross and has, almost since the first time she saw him.
"Bren," Ryan says, voice low and so goddamn sexy, Bren feels her cunt clench desperately.
She's been so focused on Ryan that she hasn't thought much about herself, but Bren's turned on by this. She's wet, so wet she'd be embarrassed if anyone but her could tell, and she wants a hand between her legs so bad she moans around Ryan's cock.
"Fuck," Ryan groans. "Use your hands, Bren."
Bren hums inquisitively, not sure how she can use both. She settles for stroking the parts of Ryan's cock she can't quite reach with her mouth, encouraged by the way Ryan says her name, says, "yeah, like that, fuck."
Bren's knees are starting to hurt, her jaw beginning to ache. Her lips are slick and when she swipes her tongue over the head of Ryan's cock, his taste explodes on her tongue. She's not sure if he's close until his breath starts hitching audibly and she picks up a fast, hard rhythm. She'll feel this in the morning, stiff jaw, sore throat, but she doesn't care. She wants to make Ryan come undone like she's only heard him do when he think no one is listening. She wants him to come inside of her mouth, to gasp out her name. She wants for Ryan to think about Bren on her knees, her lips stretched wide around his cock, the next time some other girl is in her place.
The sudden possessiveness Bren feels is sharp and scary, but she doesn't stop. She just sucks harder, using her tongue and hand to stroke every inch of skin, scratching her nails over the sensitive skin low on Ryan's belly. His hips hitch, the first sign of movement from him, and his other hand drops to Bren's head. His voice has become a low litany of fuckfuckfuckyesBrenjustlikethatjesusfucksofuckinggood that collects in Bren's ears and ratchets up her own arousal to new, maddening heights. She whimpers when Ryan urges her head forward, takes him in deeper than she has before and manages one hard, reflexive suck before he's coming.
Ryan makes a sound, so low and rough it slams into Bren's body, a battering of her ribs, a clumsy rub of her clit, and she needs to get off, needs it so badly that she doesn't even freak out at the first splash of cum against her tongue. She just relaxes into it, into the hold Ryan has on her head, moaning back at Ryan, thinking urgently pleasepleaseplease. Ryan's hands grip her hair so hard it hurts, but it's a good pain, and then he loosens his hold and Bren pulls off.
Her mouth is full and she's not sure what to do. She doesn't have anywhere to spit and she can feel some of Ryan's cum dribbling onto her chin and collected in the corner of her mouth. Bren decides to swallow, knocking it back like a shot of liquor, and squeaks when Ryan yanks her up by her elbows. They stare at each other for a long moment, Ryan's eyes heavily-lidded and his breath coming in uneven pants.
Bren licks the corner of her mouth clean, swallows again. Ryan doesn't say anything and she wants to ask if she did okay, if he's upset or something, if she fucked up somehow, but she can't make a sound. She's rigid in Ryan's hold, thighs pressed together against the ache between her legs. Ryan doesn't say anything either, just leans forward and kisses her dirty and deep and rough.
Bren groans and brings her hands up to clutch at the t-shirt Ryan's still wearing. She lets him kiss her, not because she's freaking out this time, but because she wants to give herself over to him. He fucks her mouth with his tongue, brutal and precise, and her cunt throbs in sympathy and Bren would let Ryan rip her pants off right now, she'd let him fuck her hard and fast up against the wall, and that scares her. That's not what this is about, it's not. She's not proving herself and she isn't supposed to want more.
Dangerous. This is so dangerous. Ryan pulls away, lips hot and sloppy against her jaw and then her throat.
"Let me," he says, holding his hand to her belly and then teasing his fingers under the waistband of the jeans she's been wearing since last night.
Bren moans and is so tempted to let him, but she can't, fuck, she's so far gone and if she goes any further she won't even be herself anymore. She'll be Ryan's. Ryan's forever.
"I can't," Bren says, pushing away and stumbling back, ignoring Ryan's shocked look. "I'll. I'm."
She shakes her head, confused and needy, and barricades herself in the bathroom. She presses her back to the door and fumbles to get her pants undone, whimpering when her fingers can't work the button and then take forever to pull down the zipper. She sobs out a moan when she finally gets her hand underneath the waistband of her panties; her fingers slip over the folds of her cunt, she's so hot and wet, and when her fingertips brush her clit her head falls back against the bathroom door with a thunk.
She rubs, careless and frantic, the ache gathering and spiraling higher and higher, the pleasure getting sharp around the edges, threatening to cut her open. She's gasping too loudly, knows that Ryan can hear if he's still outside, but she doesn't care. She just presses her fingers harder to her clit, rubs faster, eyes closed with Ryan's face still fresh in her mind, his taste and feel a brand new sensory memory. One of her fingernails scrapes a little and it hurts, but that flash of pain is what pushes Bren over the edge.
Her orgasm lingers heavy, low and deep in her belly, for a split second before it overwhelms her. Bren's hips push off of the door, her fingers still moving hard and quick, her lips parted on a moan that she keeps behind clenched teeth. It lasts for an endless minute and then Bren's knees are buckling and she's sliding to the floor. She pulls her hand from between her legs, wiping it on her shirt, still shocky and sensitive.
There's a dull knock on the outside of the door and Bren sucks in a breath, thumps her fist against the door in return.
"Just a sec," she says, trying to sound bright and not like she's having a crisis of epic proportions.
Ryan doesn't say anything, but when Bren finally walks out, still a little breathless and unsteady, she and Ryan look at each other and it's obvious they're going to try to be natural. Bren can deal with that. She smiles when Ryan raises an eyebrow and thinks I don't know what just happened, but I still don't regret you Ryan Ross.
Ryan smiles back like maybe he knows.
Part Two