A New Way To Dance [NaNoRyRo 21]
Title: A New Way To Dance [NaNoRyRo 21]
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 3rd, Ryan-centric
Summary: Ryan dances when no one's watching. Well, most of the time.
Word Count: 251
Disclaimer: Entirely created from the recesses of my own diseased and fragmented brain case. This is what snorting word dust will do to you. :D Oh, and don't Google yourselves. Ever.
Beta: None.
Author Notes: Bah, who's idea was this? Trish or Morgan's, I forget. Too lazy to go look. Either way, thanks to both of you, really.
'10 NaNoRyRo Masterlist
Ryan likes to dance, but only in secret, when no one's watching. The last person Ryan ever wanted to catch him dancing was Brendon, mister I'm-better-than-everyone-at-dancing. Really, the kid was trying to teach people how to dance during shows, the show-off.
So when Brendon barges into Ryan's hotel room one night while he's dancing to Beyoncé, Ryan kind of wants to crawl into a hole and die.
"Fuck off, Brendon," Ryan mutters, shutting off the music while Brendon laughs heartily. "Shut up, it's not funny. You like Beyoncé too, asshole."
"No no, not that," Brendon gasps in between peals of laughter. "God, Ross, your dancing."
"Shut up, my dancing's just as good as yours!"
Brendon manages to finally stop laughing, going over to Ryan. "I never said it was bad, just a little uncoordinated. Now, I take pity on you because I love you to death, Ross, so I'm going to help you out."
Ryan crosses his arms. "You're not teaching me how to dance."
Brendon circles Ryan and presses close from behind, placing his hands on Ryan's waist. "Lighten up. Live a little."
"You are not teaching me how to dance, Brendon," Ryan growls, trying to move away, but Brendon keeps him in place.
Brendon grins, his lips against Ryan's ear. "Alright, then, so I won't teach you. How about we just… dance, instead, hm?" Brendon purrs, pressing his hips against Ryan's ass for emphasis.
Ryan can't help but smirk. "I can show you a few moves."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 3rd, Ryan-centric
Summary: Ryan dances when no one's watching. Well, most of the time.
Word Count: 251
Disclaimer: Entirely created from the recesses of my own diseased and fragmented brain case. This is what snorting word dust will do to you. :D Oh, and don't Google yourselves. Ever.
Beta: None.
Author Notes: Bah, who's idea was this? Trish or Morgan's, I forget. Too lazy to go look. Either way, thanks to both of you, really.
'10 NaNoRyRo Masterlist
Ryan likes to dance, but only in secret, when no one's watching. The last person Ryan ever wanted to catch him dancing was Brendon, mister I'm-better-than-everyone-at-dancing. Really, the kid was trying to teach people how to dance during shows, the show-off.
So when Brendon barges into Ryan's hotel room one night while he's dancing to Beyoncé, Ryan kind of wants to crawl into a hole and die.
"Fuck off, Brendon," Ryan mutters, shutting off the music while Brendon laughs heartily. "Shut up, it's not funny. You like Beyoncé too, asshole."
"No no, not that," Brendon gasps in between peals of laughter. "God, Ross, your dancing."
"Shut up, my dancing's just as good as yours!"
Brendon manages to finally stop laughing, going over to Ryan. "I never said it was bad, just a little uncoordinated. Now, I take pity on you because I love you to death, Ross, so I'm going to help you out."
Ryan crosses his arms. "You're not teaching me how to dance."
Brendon circles Ryan and presses close from behind, placing his hands on Ryan's waist. "Lighten up. Live a little."
"You are not teaching me how to dance, Brendon," Ryan growls, trying to move away, but Brendon keeps him in place.
Brendon grins, his lips against Ryan's ear. "Alright, then, so I won't teach you. How about we just… dance, instead, hm?" Brendon purrs, pressing his hips against Ryan's ass for emphasis.
Ryan can't help but smirk. "I can show you a few moves."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."