(no subject)
Title: Can't Take The Heat
Author: Elissa
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer, (Jon/Ryan)
Summary: Brendon's eyes are still locked with his, and his hand is still moving. Spencer thinks distantly that now would be a good time to leave. Any time, really, but then Brendon is arching again, sucking two fingers in his mouth and trailing them down his body and, god.
Disclaimer: Fake - One that is not authentic or genuine; a sham.
Author's Notes: PWP. I'm not sure where this came from, beyond the fact that shutyourface texted complaining that her a.c. was out at work, and this was meant to distract her. Written initially in text message form, then copy/pasted and cleaned up by fiddleyoumust. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Spencer doesn't know everything, but there are two things in life he's certain of: 1. Ryan Ross is impervious to heat, and 2. Jon Walker validly does not give a shit about the state of his cleanliness and/or bodily discomfort as long as he's getting laid. As such, Spencer is not surprised to hear muffled grunts and groans coming from behind the curtain of Jon's bunk, even though the bus's ac has been broken for the past three hundred miles, and it's roughly ten bazillion degrees inside.
Another thing Spencer knows is that Brendon is NOT impervious to heat, and that he's usually pretty miserable about the amount of sweat his body produces if he's not on stage with a microphone to distract him from it. So, Spencer is also not surprised to find Brendon, lying spread out on the floor in the lounge naked. He is, however, surprised to find Brendon's eyes squeezed shut, his head thrown back, and his hand on his dick.
Brendon's hand is moving in a steady rhythm, and it takes Spencer a second to realize that it matches the sounds coming from Ryan and Jon. When Jon lets out a particularly low groan, Brendon's back arches off of the ground, and Spencer means to leave, he really does, but he can't look away. He must be breathing louder than he realizes, because on a ragged exhale, Brendon's eyes snap open and lock on Spencer.
Every inch of Spencer's skin is on fire and he's overly aware of his shirt, sweat soaked and sticking to the small of his back. He curses and shifts and peels the material away from his skin, letting some air in.
Brendon's eyes are still locked with his, and his hand is still moving. Spencer thinks distantly that now would be a good time to leave. Any time, really, but then Brendon is arching again, sucking two fingers in his mouth and trailing them down his body and, god. Spencer forces himself to turn around, but he only gets two shaky steps before Brendon stops him. He sounds fucked out and raw when he says, "Wait. Stay."
Spencer curls his fists at his sides and counts to ten, waiting for Brendon to take it back. When he doesn't, Spencer counts again, then again.
He hears movement behind him, and then Brendon is pressed all along Spencer's back, both hands wrapping tightly around his wrists. "Stay?" he asks, and Spencer nods.
Brendon drags his palms up Spencer's arms and over the curve of his shoulders. When he takes one away, Spencer reaches blindly for it, catches his elbow and tries to bring it back, but Brendon huffs a breath against Spencer's ear and tugs out of his grip. Spencer glances over his shoulder and watches as Brendon reaches around to press his fingers back inside. He chokes back a moan and tries to turn, but Brendon's free arm is around Spencer's chest now, holding him in place.
"Please. Brendon, I want to see. Please."
Brendon is breathing hot against Spencer's neck and it's too much, there's not enough air, but then Brendon’s arm is loosening and he's letting Spencer turn and Spencer doesn't care about the heat, he's too busy pushing Brendon back until he's spread out on the floor again, all that smooth skin laid out in front of him. He presses forward, wanting to taste, but stops just before their mouths meet. "Can I... Is this okay?"
Brendon huffs out a laugh and worms his fingers up under Spencer's shirt. "Only if you get rid of this."
Spencer strips his shirt off and moves in again, not caring about the sweat. His skin and Brendon's slide together. He pushes his tongue into Brendon's mouth and groans when Ryan cries out from the bunks, making Brendon bucks his hips up.
When they pull apart Brendon is gasping, and it takes Spencer a second to recognize the words beneath it. "Pants, Spencer. Pants. It's gonna be kind of hard to fuck me with pants on."
Spencer's mind kind of whites out at that. Brendon's hands are working at his fly, pushing his pans down, and Spencer's brain only starts working again in time to help kick the denim down off his ankles.
"Condom?" Spencer makes himself ask. Brendon groans, as he reaches down to push his fingers back inside himself. "Bathroom. In my shaving kit. Lube, too."
Spencer scrambles up and to the bathroom. The air that hits him once he's free of Brendon's body heat feels almost cold, even though he knows it's not. He finds the required supplies and catches himself in the mirror above the sink before he heads back. His face is flushed, and he can't find the blue in his eyes.
When he gets back, Brendon has two fingers in past the knuckle, twisting and pushing. There is still noise pouring in from the other room, and Spencer can hear that Jon's groans have progressed to a steady stream of curse words.
Brendon reaches out for the lube, but Spencer shakes his head and holds it just out of reach. He drops down between Brendon's knees and slicks his own finger up, pressing it in alongside Brendon's, stretching and twisting in and out.
Ryan and Jon have gone quiet by the time Brendon is ready, but Spencer doesn't care. He just presses into Brendon's body, and lets Brendon's noises take their place. He pulls out and pushes back in, groaning and adding his own sounds to the mix.
He works on the angle until he's hitting Brendon just right on every stroke. He lifts up on his knees and drags a hand down Brendon's body, wrapping it, sweat slick around Brendon's dick. He srokes in time with his own thrusts, pulling sweet sounds from Brendon's throat. Brendon thrusts up to meet him, and Spencer can't keep his rhythm steady.
He's a drummer. This shouldn't be hard, but Brendon's tight around him, making his hips stutter. Spencer leans forward and crushes their mouths together, and his lips buzz with Brendon's moan when he comes between them, tightening impossibly around him.
Spencer goes still and squeezes his eyes shut before making himself breathe and fuck Brendon through it. He's right on the edge of his own orgasm when he hears a gasp from the doorway. He turns his head to see Ryan and Jon.
Jon's arm tightens around Ryan's middle and his jaw goes slack. "Holy shit."
"What?" Spencer gasps. "You two think you're the only ones who get to have any fun?"
Brendon laughs, and Spencer feels it straight to his dick. He slams deep and comes, his arms and thighs trembling with pleasure.
"I told you they weren't watching porn," Ryan says, after Spencer's pulled out and collapsed down on top of Brendon.
"Hell no," Spencer says. "It's too hot in here for that shit."
Author: Elissa
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Spencer, (Jon/Ryan)
Summary: Brendon's eyes are still locked with his, and his hand is still moving. Spencer thinks distantly that now would be a good time to leave. Any time, really, but then Brendon is arching again, sucking two fingers in his mouth and trailing them down his body and, god.
Disclaimer: Fake - One that is not authentic or genuine; a sham.
Author's Notes: PWP. I'm not sure where this came from, beyond the fact that shutyourface texted complaining that her a.c. was out at work, and this was meant to distract her. Written initially in text message form, then copy/pasted and cleaned up by fiddleyoumust. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Spencer doesn't know everything, but there are two things in life he's certain of: 1. Ryan Ross is impervious to heat, and 2. Jon Walker validly does not give a shit about the state of his cleanliness and/or bodily discomfort as long as he's getting laid. As such, Spencer is not surprised to hear muffled grunts and groans coming from behind the curtain of Jon's bunk, even though the bus's ac has been broken for the past three hundred miles, and it's roughly ten bazillion degrees inside.
Another thing Spencer knows is that Brendon is NOT impervious to heat, and that he's usually pretty miserable about the amount of sweat his body produces if he's not on stage with a microphone to distract him from it. So, Spencer is also not surprised to find Brendon, lying spread out on the floor in the lounge naked. He is, however, surprised to find Brendon's eyes squeezed shut, his head thrown back, and his hand on his dick.
Brendon's hand is moving in a steady rhythm, and it takes Spencer a second to realize that it matches the sounds coming from Ryan and Jon. When Jon lets out a particularly low groan, Brendon's back arches off of the ground, and Spencer means to leave, he really does, but he can't look away. He must be breathing louder than he realizes, because on a ragged exhale, Brendon's eyes snap open and lock on Spencer.
Every inch of Spencer's skin is on fire and he's overly aware of his shirt, sweat soaked and sticking to the small of his back. He curses and shifts and peels the material away from his skin, letting some air in.
Brendon's eyes are still locked with his, and his hand is still moving. Spencer thinks distantly that now would be a good time to leave. Any time, really, but then Brendon is arching again, sucking two fingers in his mouth and trailing them down his body and, god. Spencer forces himself to turn around, but he only gets two shaky steps before Brendon stops him. He sounds fucked out and raw when he says, "Wait. Stay."
Spencer curls his fists at his sides and counts to ten, waiting for Brendon to take it back. When he doesn't, Spencer counts again, then again.
He hears movement behind him, and then Brendon is pressed all along Spencer's back, both hands wrapping tightly around his wrists. "Stay?" he asks, and Spencer nods.
Brendon drags his palms up Spencer's arms and over the curve of his shoulders. When he takes one away, Spencer reaches blindly for it, catches his elbow and tries to bring it back, but Brendon huffs a breath against Spencer's ear and tugs out of his grip. Spencer glances over his shoulder and watches as Brendon reaches around to press his fingers back inside. He chokes back a moan and tries to turn, but Brendon's free arm is around Spencer's chest now, holding him in place.
"Please. Brendon, I want to see. Please."
Brendon is breathing hot against Spencer's neck and it's too much, there's not enough air, but then Brendon’s arm is loosening and he's letting Spencer turn and Spencer doesn't care about the heat, he's too busy pushing Brendon back until he's spread out on the floor again, all that smooth skin laid out in front of him. He presses forward, wanting to taste, but stops just before their mouths meet. "Can I... Is this okay?"
Brendon huffs out a laugh and worms his fingers up under Spencer's shirt. "Only if you get rid of this."
Spencer strips his shirt off and moves in again, not caring about the sweat. His skin and Brendon's slide together. He pushes his tongue into Brendon's mouth and groans when Ryan cries out from the bunks, making Brendon bucks his hips up.
When they pull apart Brendon is gasping, and it takes Spencer a second to recognize the words beneath it. "Pants, Spencer. Pants. It's gonna be kind of hard to fuck me with pants on."
Spencer's mind kind of whites out at that. Brendon's hands are working at his fly, pushing his pans down, and Spencer's brain only starts working again in time to help kick the denim down off his ankles.
"Condom?" Spencer makes himself ask. Brendon groans, as he reaches down to push his fingers back inside himself. "Bathroom. In my shaving kit. Lube, too."
Spencer scrambles up and to the bathroom. The air that hits him once he's free of Brendon's body heat feels almost cold, even though he knows it's not. He finds the required supplies and catches himself in the mirror above the sink before he heads back. His face is flushed, and he can't find the blue in his eyes.
When he gets back, Brendon has two fingers in past the knuckle, twisting and pushing. There is still noise pouring in from the other room, and Spencer can hear that Jon's groans have progressed to a steady stream of curse words.
Brendon reaches out for the lube, but Spencer shakes his head and holds it just out of reach. He drops down between Brendon's knees and slicks his own finger up, pressing it in alongside Brendon's, stretching and twisting in and out.
Ryan and Jon have gone quiet by the time Brendon is ready, but Spencer doesn't care. He just presses into Brendon's body, and lets Brendon's noises take their place. He pulls out and pushes back in, groaning and adding his own sounds to the mix.
He works on the angle until he's hitting Brendon just right on every stroke. He lifts up on his knees and drags a hand down Brendon's body, wrapping it, sweat slick around Brendon's dick. He srokes in time with his own thrusts, pulling sweet sounds from Brendon's throat. Brendon thrusts up to meet him, and Spencer can't keep his rhythm steady.
He's a drummer. This shouldn't be hard, but Brendon's tight around him, making his hips stutter. Spencer leans forward and crushes their mouths together, and his lips buzz with Brendon's moan when he comes between them, tightening impossibly around him.
Spencer goes still and squeezes his eyes shut before making himself breathe and fuck Brendon through it. He's right on the edge of his own orgasm when he hears a gasp from the doorway. He turns his head to see Ryan and Jon.
Jon's arm tightens around Ryan's middle and his jaw goes slack. "Holy shit."
"What?" Spencer gasps. "You two think you're the only ones who get to have any fun?"
Brendon laughs, and Spencer feels it straight to his dick. He slams deep and comes, his arms and thighs trembling with pleasure.
"I told you they weren't watching porn," Ryan says, after Spencer's pulled out and collapsed down on top of Brendon.
"Hell no," Spencer says. "It's too hot in here for that shit."