more shit with cameras, idk
Jointly blamed on lyo and airgiodslv.
***
"I'm not-fuck, yeah, just like that," Jon pants. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea."
Ryan pulls off of Jon's cock with a slick pop and looks up at him, the very picture of innocence. Or, well, he would be if not for the swollen lips and mussed hair and general impression that he's just been giving someone-namely Jon-an extremely enthusiastic blowjob. "But it would be so hot."
Jon reaches down and presses two fingers against Ryan's lower lip, making a pleased sound when Ryan sucks his fingers in. "Two words, Ryan," he says. "Cocaine. Pictures."
"Nng," Ryan says around Jons fingers, and then spits them out. "What, were you planning on putting them on facebook?" He looks midway between fascinated with and repelled by the idea, and Jon needs to stop that line of thinking right now.
"Facebook is for pictures of pets and drunk kids wearing funny hats," he says firmly. "Nothing else."
Ryan grins mischieviously. "I could be your pet."
Jon opens and closes his mouth again soundlessly, trying to catalog all of the things that are absolutely wrong with that sentence. "If I agree to this," he says, "will you never mention that again? In fact, I want your word that you'll never even think about that again."
Looking up with another ruined-innocent look, Ryan says, "Think of what?"
"Okay, okay," Jon says, guiding his cock back to Ryan's lips. "Now, weren't you just in the middle of something?"
Ryan's only answer is a contented hum.
"Eric is not going to be happy about this when he gets home," Alex observes, watching as Ryan methodically strips off his clothes and Jon just as methodically cleans and preps a couple of different lenses for his camera.
"So don't tell him, dickhead," Ryan says, and then waits for Alex to pull off his shirt before pressing the bottle of lube into his hand.
"Wasn't planning on it," Jon mutters.
Alex likes Jon. Jon is sensible. Sometimes.
"Alex," Ryan says, insistent, and when Alex turns back to him he's sitting against the wall with his feet hooked behind the back legs of the stool, legs spread just enough to make things interesting, cock lying half-hard against his belly. "C'mere."
"Right," Alex breathes. He reaches for the button of his jeans, and Jon clears his throat.
"Could you, uh-would you leave your pants on?" Jon asks. "I want them in the shot." Alex's mouth goes dry.
"Alex," Ryan says.
"Jesus Christ, you're impatient," Alex tells him, but he very obligingly goes to him, leaning in for a kiss as he warms the lube between his fingers, swallowing Ryan's moan when he slides two of them into Ryan's ass. He knows Ryan can take the stretch; he knows Ryan likes the stretch.
The camera clicks as Ryan reaches up to twine his arms around Alex's neck, and again when Ryan's mouth drops open on a wet gasp as Alex kisses along the line of his jaw. "Hurry," Ryan urges.
"Don't," Jon says almost immediately, and this is one of those times when Jon is being sensible again.
He pushes his jeans down just enough and gets the condom rolled on, and then he just barely presses against Ryan's ass, wanting Ryan to want it, wanting him to take it. He grins when Ryan makes another impatient noise and brings his legs up to wrap around Alex's hips, drawing him in with heels hooked in the small of Alex's back.
They moan in tandem. The camera clicks.
Alex pulls out a little and pushes back in, hard, and bites gently at Ryan's earlobe. "Is this what you wanted?" he asks softly.
There's a long pause. "Yeah," Ryan says, his voice sounding far-away. "Yeah."
"I want to see," Ryan says.
"Goddamn, Ryan, give a guy a second," Jon says, sounding cranky as he hooks his camera up to his laptop. "And put some fucking pants on."
Ryan pouts. "I just want to see," he says again.
"Yeah, and you being naked isn't making me go any faster," Jon says.
"He's got a point," Alex says placidly, coming out of the downstairs bathroom, buttoning his jeans back up.
"Why are you on his side?" Ryan asks. "You're supposed to be on my side."
Alex snorts. "Why, because I just fucked you on film?"
Ryan blinks. "Well, yeah."
"Technically," Jon says, "there was no film involved. In any sense of the word."
"Technicalities," Ryan grumbles. "Come on, let me see."
Jon eyes Ryan's hands-which are clean, thanks-and then wordlessly hands up his laptop.
"Oh," Ryan says, looking at the directory full of pictures. "Oh, fuck yes."
Alex laughs. "Narcissist."
Ryan just pulls up one of the two of them, Ryan's heel shoving Alex's jeans farther down his hips, Ryan's eyes looking hazy and languid at the camera, and turns the screen around.
"...oh," Alex says.
"I know, right?" Ryan says happily, and then settles down to look through the rest of the pictures.
***
"I'm not-fuck, yeah, just like that," Jon pants. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea."
Ryan pulls off of Jon's cock with a slick pop and looks up at him, the very picture of innocence. Or, well, he would be if not for the swollen lips and mussed hair and general impression that he's just been giving someone-namely Jon-an extremely enthusiastic blowjob. "But it would be so hot."
Jon reaches down and presses two fingers against Ryan's lower lip, making a pleased sound when Ryan sucks his fingers in. "Two words, Ryan," he says. "Cocaine. Pictures."
"Nng," Ryan says around Jons fingers, and then spits them out. "What, were you planning on putting them on facebook?" He looks midway between fascinated with and repelled by the idea, and Jon needs to stop that line of thinking right now.
"Facebook is for pictures of pets and drunk kids wearing funny hats," he says firmly. "Nothing else."
Ryan grins mischieviously. "I could be your pet."
Jon opens and closes his mouth again soundlessly, trying to catalog all of the things that are absolutely wrong with that sentence. "If I agree to this," he says, "will you never mention that again? In fact, I want your word that you'll never even think about that again."
Looking up with another ruined-innocent look, Ryan says, "Think of what?"
"Okay, okay," Jon says, guiding his cock back to Ryan's lips. "Now, weren't you just in the middle of something?"
Ryan's only answer is a contented hum.
"Eric is not going to be happy about this when he gets home," Alex observes, watching as Ryan methodically strips off his clothes and Jon just as methodically cleans and preps a couple of different lenses for his camera.
"So don't tell him, dickhead," Ryan says, and then waits for Alex to pull off his shirt before pressing the bottle of lube into his hand.
"Wasn't planning on it," Jon mutters.
Alex likes Jon. Jon is sensible. Sometimes.
"Alex," Ryan says, insistent, and when Alex turns back to him he's sitting against the wall with his feet hooked behind the back legs of the stool, legs spread just enough to make things interesting, cock lying half-hard against his belly. "C'mere."
"Right," Alex breathes. He reaches for the button of his jeans, and Jon clears his throat.
"Could you, uh-would you leave your pants on?" Jon asks. "I want them in the shot." Alex's mouth goes dry.
"Alex," Ryan says.
"Jesus Christ, you're impatient," Alex tells him, but he very obligingly goes to him, leaning in for a kiss as he warms the lube between his fingers, swallowing Ryan's moan when he slides two of them into Ryan's ass. He knows Ryan can take the stretch; he knows Ryan likes the stretch.
The camera clicks as Ryan reaches up to twine his arms around Alex's neck, and again when Ryan's mouth drops open on a wet gasp as Alex kisses along the line of his jaw. "Hurry," Ryan urges.
"Don't," Jon says almost immediately, and this is one of those times when Jon is being sensible again.
He pushes his jeans down just enough and gets the condom rolled on, and then he just barely presses against Ryan's ass, wanting Ryan to want it, wanting him to take it. He grins when Ryan makes another impatient noise and brings his legs up to wrap around Alex's hips, drawing him in with heels hooked in the small of Alex's back.
They moan in tandem. The camera clicks.
Alex pulls out a little and pushes back in, hard, and bites gently at Ryan's earlobe. "Is this what you wanted?" he asks softly.
There's a long pause. "Yeah," Ryan says, his voice sounding far-away. "Yeah."
"I want to see," Ryan says.
"Goddamn, Ryan, give a guy a second," Jon says, sounding cranky as he hooks his camera up to his laptop. "And put some fucking pants on."
Ryan pouts. "I just want to see," he says again.
"Yeah, and you being naked isn't making me go any faster," Jon says.
"He's got a point," Alex says placidly, coming out of the downstairs bathroom, buttoning his jeans back up.
"Why are you on his side?" Ryan asks. "You're supposed to be on my side."
Alex snorts. "Why, because I just fucked you on film?"
Ryan blinks. "Well, yeah."
"Technically," Jon says, "there was no film involved. In any sense of the word."
"Technicalities," Ryan grumbles. "Come on, let me see."
Jon eyes Ryan's hands-which are clean, thanks-and then wordlessly hands up his laptop.
"Oh," Ryan says, looking at the directory full of pictures. "Oh, fuck yes."
Alex laughs. "Narcissist."
Ryan just pulls up one of the two of them, Ryan's heel shoving Alex's jeans farther down his hips, Ryan's eyes looking hazy and languid at the camera, and turns the screen around.
"...oh," Alex says.
"I know, right?" Ryan says happily, and then settles down to look through the rest of the pictures.