Happy Holidays, chopsticknoodle!
To: chopsticknoodle
From: kueble
Title: The Pros and Cons of Celibacy
Rating: NC-17 Patrick/Ryan
Word Count: 2057
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine, really wish they were.
Summary: Patrick’s kind of clueless.
Notes: Thanks to O for the beta.
Patrick is clueless until Keltie slaps him.
Granted, she does it in a feminine, graceful sort of way, but it still stings like a bitch. He rubs his cheek and stares at her in shock while she pouts down at him.
“Fuck,” she says, sighing. “You don’t even know, do you?” Patrick shakes his head and wonders how quickly he can escape Ryan Ross’s apparently crazy ex-girlfriend. But then she’s reaching forward and hugging him, and he can tell she’s holding back a sob as she brushes her fingers across his cheek.
“I guess I don’t know?” he asks more than admits. She laughs at that, bitter and quick.
“You really don’t. You’re the reason we never had sex anymore, you know,” Keltie tells him softly.
“Because I’m such a model of chastity?” Patrick asks, frowning at her. She’s gorgeous and all kinds of confusing.
“I’m not sure if I feel sorrier for me or you right now,” she says with a smile. And then she’s gone, leaving Patrick looking for Pete or Ryan or anyone who can explain this damn situation to him.
He’s kind of clueless still.
--
“So Ryan and Keltie stopped having sex?” Patrick asks between bites of his veggie burger.
“Uh, yeah,” Brendon tells him with a laugh. “That’s kind of what happens when people break up. Unless they’re sluts, which yeah, Ryan kind of is, but not for Keltie.” His words seem important, but Patrick can’t tell why.
“But before they broke up. She said there was a huge lack of sex,” Patrick explains, gesturing with a French fry. Brendon shrugs, so Patrick asks, “Why, Brendon?”
“You’d have to ask Ryan,” he says, smirking slightly. And then he’s shoving another fry into his mouth, chewing with his mouth open and making faces at Patrick.
Patrick rolls his eyes and throws a French fry at him.
--
“You’ve been hanging out with Ryan a lot lately; tell me what it’s like,” Patrick says, trying not to feel like the stalker he’s apparently become. But it’s Gabe, so Gabe just cocks his head and laughs before answering.
“He’s the only guy besides you on this label who won’t get drunk and fuck his friends,” Gabe tells him with a wink.
“I should have known better,” Patrick mumbles as he wanders away. Seriously, since when did he think Gabe was anything other than what he’s always been?
Patrick’s still dejected when he goes on stage that night and spends every second his mouth isn’t open picturing Ryan’s smirk.
--
"So you're his best friend, why is Ryan apparently celibate?" Patrick asks in what he hopes is a friendly manner.
"Ask him yourself," Spencer tells him while arching one perfect eyebrow. Then his eyes narrow and Patrick flees.
Now he remembers that even though they're friends, he's kind of terrified of Spencer Smith.
--
“Ryan is fucking awesome,” Jon says, grinning like mad. He pauses his game and turns away from the screen to watch Patrick. “Like seriously awesome. He lets me kicks his ass at Guitar Hero nightly, cuddles with Brendon when he’s pouty, and has been taming Spencer for years.”
“I know he’s awesome,” Patrick says weakly. And he does know. Hell, he’s known Ryan was awesome from the first time Pete dragged him to meet four young boys full of eagerness and potential. That’s not even the problem.
“But yeah,” Jon says with a laugh, “He’s lacking in the bedroom department at the moment. You should ask him, you know. I don’t air other’s dirty laundry.” And yeah, isn’t that the truest statement ever.
“Someday I will,” Patrick admits. He’s not even sure why he still cares about the reasoning behind Ryan’s supposed celibacy, but it’s become this thing that lives inside his brain and pesters him at the most awkward times. Times like when he’s on stage and can’t stop picturing Ryan naked or times when he’s lying on Pete’s couch and wondering what it would feel like to have Ryan’s scarves around his wrists and his mouth around his dick.
Patrick admits it’s becoming an issue.
--
“Yeah, we used to fuck,” Pete tells Patrick when he asks. “Dude, I used to tell you about it in graphic detail. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, just…why did you stop?” Patrick asks, silently hating himself and Keltie for starting this whole thing. Only he’s not quite sure she started it anymore.
“I don’t like being second choice,” Pete says with a laugh. And then he’s silent, and Patrick begins to think he’s either missing out on something or his entire label is out to get him.
--
Patrick is sick of waiting. Or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself as he stands outside Ryan’s hotel room. Rehearsals are over and the VMAs are going to fucking rock tomorrow, but he’s still worried about tonight. Brendon assured Patrick that he was in fact sleeping in Spencer and Jon’s room for the night and winked at him as he left the party.
He’s still not sure what it all means.
He doesn’t even remember knocking, but the door’s swinging open and Ryan is staring at him, waiting for him to do something. So he steps into the room and takes a few steps towards the bed before panicking and heading right back for the door. Only Ryan reaches out with his too long limbs and wraps his fingers around Patrick’s wrist, holding him in place.
“You’ve been awfully jumpy lately,” Ryan says, frowning at him. “Wanna tell me why?”
“You don’t have sex,” Patrick says, cringing as soon as the words leave his mouth.
“I do actually,” Ryan tells him, smirking. “I quite enjoy it.” And he’s such a little punk that Patrick can’t help smirking right back.
“Not lately.”
“Nope, saving myself,” Ryan says with a quick nod. Patrick raises an eyebrow, but Ryan remains silent.
“For marriage? Cause you’re a little late,” Patrick says, nervous laughter following the words.
“For the right person,” Ryan whispers. And Patrick doesn’t even remember when they got this close.
“Pete?” Patrick asks, because he has too. Pete and Ryan had this tragic love affair that maybe wasn’t even tragic but it felt like it should have been.
“Not Pete. Never Pete.”
Patrick can’t even get out another question before Ryan is pressed against him, shoving him back onto the bed and crawling on top of him. Their lips meet somewhere in the middle, sloppy and wet as they collide. But then Ryan’s nipping at his lower lip, tongue begging for entrance, and Patrick finally realizes what an idiot he’s been.
“This ok?” Ryan asks as he pulls back. Patrick just nods, not trusting his voice when he has an armful of everything he’s been too stupid to realize he’s needed. “Good. Your voice has been giving me wet dreams since before I knew you,” Ryan mumbles before crushing their mouths together again.
Patrick focuses on not dying as he skims his hands over Ryan’s sides and settles them on angular hips. Ryan’s shirt is riding up, and Patrick shoves at it, reaching between them to unbutton it in his need for skin. Ryan sits up, bracing himself on Patrick’s thighs, and shrugs out of his shirt. He moans when Patrick runs his hands up his chest, stopping to brush his thumbs over Ryan’s pale pink nipples. Then he’s tugging at Patrick’s shirt, sliding it over Patrick’s head and latching on to his neck.
Patrick throws his head back and prays for a hickey; some sign that will prove this is real come morning.
Ryan is halfway down Patrick’s body before he realizes what’s going on. He’s so hard it aches, and Ryan’s fingers make quick work of his jeans, tugging them and his boxers over his hips. And then it’s all wet heat, Patrick’s brain melting as Ryan swallows him down. Patrick tangles his fingers in Ryan’s hair, brushing his bangs off his forehead as he watches Ryan suck him off.
Ryan flicks his tongue across the head with just the right amount of pressure, and Patrick bucks his hips silently apologizing as he thrusts into Ryan’s mouth. Only Ryan doesn’t even gag, just takes more of him inside his mouth and it’s all Patrick can do to stay breathing. “Good, so good,” he mumbles, shoving at Ryan, “Fuck me.”
“I,” Ryan stammers as he crawls up Patrick’s body and locks eyes with him. “Really?”
“If you don’t I might die,” Patrick tells him, and they both grin at how fucking true it is. Ryan’s gone for a few seconds, but he comes back with a condom and a tube of lube and Patrick wonders how long he’s been wishing for this. Patrick’s certain he hasn’t wanted it nearly long enough.
Ryan steps out of his jeans and helps Patrick the rest of the way out of his own before climbing between Patrick’s thighs. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he whispers and Patrick can feel his cheeks heating up because he’s so far from the truth. “I never lie when it matters,” Ryan says as if he can read minds.
Patrick’s not sure what he was going to say, because Ryan chooses that moment to work a finger inside of him and he ends up crying out as he rocks his hips. Ryan smirks down at him and bites his lip as he twists his finger around. Then his knuckle brushes the right spot and Patrick’s hips fly off the mattress, his hands coming up to grab Ryan’s forearms. “Christ,” he says, shuddering as Ryan slips another finger in.
“Please, just…” Patrick says after what feel like forever. He’s so full of Ryan’s fingers but not nearly full enough. His skin is on fire, his heart beating a crazy rhythm that he’s willing to bet matches Ryan’s.
“Please?” Ryan asks, bending over to whisper it against Patrick’s lips.
“Please fuck me,” Patrick says, his voice breathy and broken. He can feel Ryan smile before he kissing him, fierce and claiming.
Patrick watches as Ryan sits back on his heels and rolls on the condom before lining up and grinning down at him. He slowly enters Patrick, shuddering as he inches inside of him. Patrick runs his hands over Ryan’s back, lightly scratching as he tries to open up and relax. And then Ryan’s buried inside of him, filling him completely, and Patrick can’t help but moan.
He gets louder when Ryan actually moves his hips.
Patrick’s sure he’s supposed to be memorizing this, locking the feel of Ryan’s hands and cock in some part of his memory so he can remember it later. He’s also fairly certain his brain is broken. All he can do is hang on to Ryan’s wrists and focus on the feeling of Ryan’s cock inside of him.
Ryan thrusts harder, slamming his hips against Patrick’s, and they both cry out. After that it’s pretty much over. Patrick claws at Ryan’s wrist and Ryan moves his other hand between their bodies to fist around Patrick’s cock. A few strokes and Patrick’s coming, exploding between their bodies. Ryan’s eyes goe wide and his hips stutter before he shouts Patrick’s name and goes still.
Patrick lies there, Ryan slumped against his chest, and tries to remember how to breathe.
Once he gets the hang of it, he holds Ryan closer. He gasps as Ryan slides out of him, the emptiness sudden and sad. But then Ryan ties off the condom and drops it to the floor before wrapping his body around Patrick’s.
“We should have been doing this years ago,” Patrick tells him. He can feel Ryan’s laughter before he hears it and smiles against the top of his head. Patrick’s not even sure how Ryan manages to be shorter than he is lying down. He thinks it has a lot to do with the way Ryan is surrounding him with arms and legs.
“Some deity is laughing at us,” Ryan assures him before yawning softly against his chest. “If you leave before morning, I will have Jon Walker kill you.”
“Not leaving,” Patrick says, choking down a laugh because he’s completely serious. “Ever.”
“Good,” Ryan says and then his breathing evens out and Patrick can actually feel his body falling asleep.
Patrick presses his lips to Ryan’s temple before drifting off himself.
From: kueble
Title: The Pros and Cons of Celibacy
Rating: NC-17 Patrick/Ryan
Word Count: 2057
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine, really wish they were.
Summary: Patrick’s kind of clueless.
Notes: Thanks to O for the beta.
Patrick is clueless until Keltie slaps him.
Granted, she does it in a feminine, graceful sort of way, but it still stings like a bitch. He rubs his cheek and stares at her in shock while she pouts down at him.
“Fuck,” she says, sighing. “You don’t even know, do you?” Patrick shakes his head and wonders how quickly he can escape Ryan Ross’s apparently crazy ex-girlfriend. But then she’s reaching forward and hugging him, and he can tell she’s holding back a sob as she brushes her fingers across his cheek.
“I guess I don’t know?” he asks more than admits. She laughs at that, bitter and quick.
“You really don’t. You’re the reason we never had sex anymore, you know,” Keltie tells him softly.
“Because I’m such a model of chastity?” Patrick asks, frowning at her. She’s gorgeous and all kinds of confusing.
“I’m not sure if I feel sorrier for me or you right now,” she says with a smile. And then she’s gone, leaving Patrick looking for Pete or Ryan or anyone who can explain this damn situation to him.
He’s kind of clueless still.
--
“So Ryan and Keltie stopped having sex?” Patrick asks between bites of his veggie burger.
“Uh, yeah,” Brendon tells him with a laugh. “That’s kind of what happens when people break up. Unless they’re sluts, which yeah, Ryan kind of is, but not for Keltie.” His words seem important, but Patrick can’t tell why.
“But before they broke up. She said there was a huge lack of sex,” Patrick explains, gesturing with a French fry. Brendon shrugs, so Patrick asks, “Why, Brendon?”
“You’d have to ask Ryan,” he says, smirking slightly. And then he’s shoving another fry into his mouth, chewing with his mouth open and making faces at Patrick.
Patrick rolls his eyes and throws a French fry at him.
--
“You’ve been hanging out with Ryan a lot lately; tell me what it’s like,” Patrick says, trying not to feel like the stalker he’s apparently become. But it’s Gabe, so Gabe just cocks his head and laughs before answering.
“He’s the only guy besides you on this label who won’t get drunk and fuck his friends,” Gabe tells him with a wink.
“I should have known better,” Patrick mumbles as he wanders away. Seriously, since when did he think Gabe was anything other than what he’s always been?
Patrick’s still dejected when he goes on stage that night and spends every second his mouth isn’t open picturing Ryan’s smirk.
--
"So you're his best friend, why is Ryan apparently celibate?" Patrick asks in what he hopes is a friendly manner.
"Ask him yourself," Spencer tells him while arching one perfect eyebrow. Then his eyes narrow and Patrick flees.
Now he remembers that even though they're friends, he's kind of terrified of Spencer Smith.
--
“Ryan is fucking awesome,” Jon says, grinning like mad. He pauses his game and turns away from the screen to watch Patrick. “Like seriously awesome. He lets me kicks his ass at Guitar Hero nightly, cuddles with Brendon when he’s pouty, and has been taming Spencer for years.”
“I know he’s awesome,” Patrick says weakly. And he does know. Hell, he’s known Ryan was awesome from the first time Pete dragged him to meet four young boys full of eagerness and potential. That’s not even the problem.
“But yeah,” Jon says with a laugh, “He’s lacking in the bedroom department at the moment. You should ask him, you know. I don’t air other’s dirty laundry.” And yeah, isn’t that the truest statement ever.
“Someday I will,” Patrick admits. He’s not even sure why he still cares about the reasoning behind Ryan’s supposed celibacy, but it’s become this thing that lives inside his brain and pesters him at the most awkward times. Times like when he’s on stage and can’t stop picturing Ryan naked or times when he’s lying on Pete’s couch and wondering what it would feel like to have Ryan’s scarves around his wrists and his mouth around his dick.
Patrick admits it’s becoming an issue.
--
“Yeah, we used to fuck,” Pete tells Patrick when he asks. “Dude, I used to tell you about it in graphic detail. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, just…why did you stop?” Patrick asks, silently hating himself and Keltie for starting this whole thing. Only he’s not quite sure she started it anymore.
“I don’t like being second choice,” Pete says with a laugh. And then he’s silent, and Patrick begins to think he’s either missing out on something or his entire label is out to get him.
--
Patrick is sick of waiting. Or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself as he stands outside Ryan’s hotel room. Rehearsals are over and the VMAs are going to fucking rock tomorrow, but he’s still worried about tonight. Brendon assured Patrick that he was in fact sleeping in Spencer and Jon’s room for the night and winked at him as he left the party.
He’s still not sure what it all means.
He doesn’t even remember knocking, but the door’s swinging open and Ryan is staring at him, waiting for him to do something. So he steps into the room and takes a few steps towards the bed before panicking and heading right back for the door. Only Ryan reaches out with his too long limbs and wraps his fingers around Patrick’s wrist, holding him in place.
“You’ve been awfully jumpy lately,” Ryan says, frowning at him. “Wanna tell me why?”
“You don’t have sex,” Patrick says, cringing as soon as the words leave his mouth.
“I do actually,” Ryan tells him, smirking. “I quite enjoy it.” And he’s such a little punk that Patrick can’t help smirking right back.
“Not lately.”
“Nope, saving myself,” Ryan says with a quick nod. Patrick raises an eyebrow, but Ryan remains silent.
“For marriage? Cause you’re a little late,” Patrick says, nervous laughter following the words.
“For the right person,” Ryan whispers. And Patrick doesn’t even remember when they got this close.
“Pete?” Patrick asks, because he has too. Pete and Ryan had this tragic love affair that maybe wasn’t even tragic but it felt like it should have been.
“Not Pete. Never Pete.”
Patrick can’t even get out another question before Ryan is pressed against him, shoving him back onto the bed and crawling on top of him. Their lips meet somewhere in the middle, sloppy and wet as they collide. But then Ryan’s nipping at his lower lip, tongue begging for entrance, and Patrick finally realizes what an idiot he’s been.
“This ok?” Ryan asks as he pulls back. Patrick just nods, not trusting his voice when he has an armful of everything he’s been too stupid to realize he’s needed. “Good. Your voice has been giving me wet dreams since before I knew you,” Ryan mumbles before crushing their mouths together again.
Patrick focuses on not dying as he skims his hands over Ryan’s sides and settles them on angular hips. Ryan’s shirt is riding up, and Patrick shoves at it, reaching between them to unbutton it in his need for skin. Ryan sits up, bracing himself on Patrick’s thighs, and shrugs out of his shirt. He moans when Patrick runs his hands up his chest, stopping to brush his thumbs over Ryan’s pale pink nipples. Then he’s tugging at Patrick’s shirt, sliding it over Patrick’s head and latching on to his neck.
Patrick throws his head back and prays for a hickey; some sign that will prove this is real come morning.
Ryan is halfway down Patrick’s body before he realizes what’s going on. He’s so hard it aches, and Ryan’s fingers make quick work of his jeans, tugging them and his boxers over his hips. And then it’s all wet heat, Patrick’s brain melting as Ryan swallows him down. Patrick tangles his fingers in Ryan’s hair, brushing his bangs off his forehead as he watches Ryan suck him off.
Ryan flicks his tongue across the head with just the right amount of pressure, and Patrick bucks his hips silently apologizing as he thrusts into Ryan’s mouth. Only Ryan doesn’t even gag, just takes more of him inside his mouth and it’s all Patrick can do to stay breathing. “Good, so good,” he mumbles, shoving at Ryan, “Fuck me.”
“I,” Ryan stammers as he crawls up Patrick’s body and locks eyes with him. “Really?”
“If you don’t I might die,” Patrick tells him, and they both grin at how fucking true it is. Ryan’s gone for a few seconds, but he comes back with a condom and a tube of lube and Patrick wonders how long he’s been wishing for this. Patrick’s certain he hasn’t wanted it nearly long enough.
Ryan steps out of his jeans and helps Patrick the rest of the way out of his own before climbing between Patrick’s thighs. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he whispers and Patrick can feel his cheeks heating up because he’s so far from the truth. “I never lie when it matters,” Ryan says as if he can read minds.
Patrick’s not sure what he was going to say, because Ryan chooses that moment to work a finger inside of him and he ends up crying out as he rocks his hips. Ryan smirks down at him and bites his lip as he twists his finger around. Then his knuckle brushes the right spot and Patrick’s hips fly off the mattress, his hands coming up to grab Ryan’s forearms. “Christ,” he says, shuddering as Ryan slips another finger in.
“Please, just…” Patrick says after what feel like forever. He’s so full of Ryan’s fingers but not nearly full enough. His skin is on fire, his heart beating a crazy rhythm that he’s willing to bet matches Ryan’s.
“Please?” Ryan asks, bending over to whisper it against Patrick’s lips.
“Please fuck me,” Patrick says, his voice breathy and broken. He can feel Ryan smile before he kissing him, fierce and claiming.
Patrick watches as Ryan sits back on his heels and rolls on the condom before lining up and grinning down at him. He slowly enters Patrick, shuddering as he inches inside of him. Patrick runs his hands over Ryan’s back, lightly scratching as he tries to open up and relax. And then Ryan’s buried inside of him, filling him completely, and Patrick can’t help but moan.
He gets louder when Ryan actually moves his hips.
Patrick’s sure he’s supposed to be memorizing this, locking the feel of Ryan’s hands and cock in some part of his memory so he can remember it later. He’s also fairly certain his brain is broken. All he can do is hang on to Ryan’s wrists and focus on the feeling of Ryan’s cock inside of him.
Ryan thrusts harder, slamming his hips against Patrick’s, and they both cry out. After that it’s pretty much over. Patrick claws at Ryan’s wrist and Ryan moves his other hand between their bodies to fist around Patrick’s cock. A few strokes and Patrick’s coming, exploding between their bodies. Ryan’s eyes goe wide and his hips stutter before he shouts Patrick’s name and goes still.
Patrick lies there, Ryan slumped against his chest, and tries to remember how to breathe.
Once he gets the hang of it, he holds Ryan closer. He gasps as Ryan slides out of him, the emptiness sudden and sad. But then Ryan ties off the condom and drops it to the floor before wrapping his body around Patrick’s.
“We should have been doing this years ago,” Patrick tells him. He can feel Ryan’s laughter before he hears it and smiles against the top of his head. Patrick’s not even sure how Ryan manages to be shorter than he is lying down. He thinks it has a lot to do with the way Ryan is surrounding him with arms and legs.
“Some deity is laughing at us,” Ryan assures him before yawning softly against his chest. “If you leave before morning, I will have Jon Walker kill you.”
“Not leaving,” Patrick says, choking down a laugh because he’s completely serious. “Ever.”
“Good,” Ryan says and then his breathing evens out and Patrick can actually feel his body falling asleep.
Patrick presses his lips to Ryan’s temple before drifting off himself.