Pyramid Love [1/2]
Title: Pyramid Love
Author: buildyourwalls
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan, Jon/Spencer, GSF
Word Count: ~10,400
Disclaimer: Not real, didn't happen.
Summary: AU. It was the kind of party meant exclusively for the upper class: the most rich, the most famous, and most of all, the most beautiful. If you were not to the standards of the hosts', you simply were not invited. When Brendon and Ryan do get invited, they find that they are in for more than they bargained for.
Beta: My MFEO, spazzyskittles
Dedication: To arctic_grey for your infinite patience and love. Thanks for dealing with my insanity and ridiculous behavior the past three weeks. To samedifference_ for feeding my ego and supporting me through and through with every thing I do. And most of all to my beta, spazzyskittles for being one of the most wonderful people I've ever met in my life.
Author Notes: This originally stemmed from a conversation with samedifference_ about GSF's and after watching too much Real Sex and other porno documentaries, this came to life and I wrote it literally in two days. It's kind of my ideal take on how group sex should happen.
If fault were to be placed on someone, it would've been on their friend Gabe. It was, after all, Gabe's idea.
But it was Brendon who accepted.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ryan asked cautiously. He knew that Brendon was the more adventurous of the two, but monogamy was always something that Ryan kept close to his heart.
Brendon's smile curved, his eyes fixated on the computer screen. “Absolutely.”
Well, Ryan thought, you only live once.
* * *
If it wasn't for Ryan's father’s having a big name in the corporate world, they probably wouldn't have been chosen for an invitation.
Brendon had heard about friends who had attended swinger parties before. However, it was the result of a few experimental horny people who fucked around with each other and then went home sated and happy. He had, however, never heard of a party that was of this caliber. A kind of party meant exclusively for the upper class: the richest, the most famous, and most of all, the most beautiful. If you were not to the standards of the hosts, you simply were not invited.
The process was grueling. Everyone had to submit a picture and a profile of themselves and their respective partners. Name, age, sex, orientation, along with your favorite position, kinks, do's and don'ts: the whole nine yards. After the preliminary info was submitted, the prospective guests would be emailed with a follow-up, which included a phone interview with a representative of the group planning the party. If you made it through that, you could pretty much guarantee you were in.
The invitations would come via postal mail, and when they arrived, the excitement made Brendon's skin burn. He pulled them out with shaky hands and giggled at the cream-colored paper adorned with royal blue script font.
“I can't fucking believe this,” Brendon whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.
Ryan chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “You're gonna have to tell me all of the basics to this, you know,” he said leaning against the kitchen counter. “I don't want to go in completely green.”
“Yeah, of course,” Brendon agreed with a dismissive wave of his hand, looking down at the invitation with wide eyes. He shook his head once more, the smile growing wider. He glanced up at Ryan and chuckled with glee before walking over and wrapping his arms around Ryan's neck.
“Have I ever told you you're the best boyfriend anyone could have?” he whispered.
Ryan shrugged, his arms still crossed over his chest. “I've heard it maybe once or twice,” he said with a small grin.
“Well, you are,” Brendon breathed, loosening an arm and setting the invitations on the counter. He inched closer and brushed his lips against Ryan's. “You're the most amazing boyfriend I've ever had.”
Ryan snorted. “All because I found the most prestigious sex party in Las Vegas? Classy.”
Brendon shook his head, his eyes looking up into Ryan's golden eyes. “No,” he said softly, “because you trust our relationship and me so much that you would be willing to try this out and know that it wouldn't sever my love for you.”
Ryan nodded, unlocking his arms and wrapping them around Brendon's waist, pulling him closer. “Always,” he said in a low husky voice.
Brendon smiled, gripping the back of Ryan's neck and pulling him toward his mouth. He pressed their lips together softly, his tongue flickering out against the seam of Ryan's mouth. Ryan sighed against the pressure and began to open to allow Brendon better access. They continued to kiss languidly, Brendon tightening his arms around Ryan's neck and sliding his thigh between the other man's legs.
He could feel Ryan grow harder as he began to nip at his neck, sucking lightly and applying just the right amount of pressure with his teeth to drive him over the edge. He sensed Ryan's soft moans against his lips, smiling as he gave a long lick over the indentures carved into Ryan's skin.
“What do you want?” he whispered against Ryan's ear. Brendon began to undo Ryan's belt and, with careful hands, unzipped his pants. “You want me to fuck you against the counter? Would you like that?”
“Jesus, Bren,” Ryan breathed back, his hands bracing against the back of the counter. He gave an intense look, his honey-colored eyes mere rims of color against dilated pupils.
Brendon chuckled and pulled up Ryan's shirt, kissing softly against Ryan's ribs, stomach and hips as he fell to his knees, facing perfectly in front of Ryan's hard cock. He gazed up with innocent eyes, wide and round.
“What if I suck you off and finger fuck you at the same time, would you like that?”
Ryan's breathing was thrown completely off kilter, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He nodded his head vigorously, eyes remaining connected with Brendon as he tugged at his pants, freeing Ryan from the confines of his jeans. Brendon grabbed at the base of his cock, listening to Ryan give out a stifled moan as Brendon licked the tip with the flat of his tongue before trailing small kisses down the shaft.
He felt Ryan grab a fistful of his hair gently, so gently, and Brendon pulled back sucking on his index finger. He licked over it like it was Ryan's cock, closing his eyes and moaning against it as he placed his free hand on Ryan's thigh. Ryan was thrumming against the affection, and when Brendon opened his eyes, he placed his finger teasingly around Ryan's entrance.
“I'll let you come on my face if you want,” Brendon whispered in a husky voice, his eyes locked on Ryan.
“Fuck yeah,” Ryan breathed lustfully.
Brendon chuckled as he leaned closer and continued to suck Ryan off.
* * *
Spencer grinned at Jon as they watched the caterers set up the food in the formal dining room area.
“You always insist on putting all of this food out as though people will eat it,” Jon mused from behind him, wrapping one arm over his chest. He didn't understand the need for a lavish display when people were going to be focusing more on their sexual escapades.
Spencer leaned into the touch. “They do use it, just not for nutritional value,” he remarked, watching the beautiful row of champagne glasses being set up. “How are the rooms?” he asked, turning to look at Jon with a solemn face.
Jon leaned over and kissed Spencer's cheek affectionately. “Perfect.” When Spencer raised an eyebrow, he gave a pointed look. “Don't you believe me?”
"Sure, I believe you," Spencer said with a grin, eyes searching over Jon's face and focusing on his lips before darting back up to his eyes. His expression darkened. "That is, I used to until last month's disaster happened."
Jon let out a sputter of astonishment, his eyes wide. "You know that wasn't my fault!" he exclaimed. "I told you the company switched the deliveries and that's why--"
His excuses were cut off quickly as Spencer spun around and kissed him aggressively. Jon moaned against Spencer's mouth, their tongues dancing against each other. The taste of Spencer was almost overwhelming but not nearly as overwhelming as when he began to bite affectionately against Jon's bottom lip followed by grazing his tongue at the roof of his mouth.
Everything was becoming a light, lovely haze of warmth until the noise of someone clearing their throat interrupted Jon's thoughts, and the couple separated hastily. Spencer turned around and crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his eyebrow. Jon could feel the annoyance radiate off of Spencer, and he couldn't help but lick his own lips.
“Yes?” Spencer asked authoritatively. It was a voice that Spencer used when he didn't want to be bothered, and Jon watched as the young man's eyes widened.
“Um... Mr. Smith, sir? We wanted to let you know that we loaded everything into the kitchen and the--” He clamped his mouth shut when Spencer lifted a hand.
“Jon?” Spencer called for Jon, who took the opportunity to disappear from behind him. His eyes remained fixated on the young man's face, hair sweeping over his eyes. When Jon drew close to him, Spencer turned and raised his eyebrows. “What do you think?”
Jon tilted his head and gave a catlike smile. “Well, I don't know. What do you think?”
The boy's expression was of complete confusion and nerves. It was obvious that he had no idea what they were talking about, and being in control was what Spencer lived off of. The young ones were always easier to persuade.
“I like,” Spencer replied, his voice low. Jon watched as Spencer looked intently at the boy and lifted a single finger to brush his hair out of his eyes. “What's your name?”
“Alex,” the boy answered quietly, his cheeks flushing. He began to look down at the paper in his hands. “But everyone calls me Marshall,” he added shyly.
“And why is that?” Spencer purred. Jon snickered behind him. Spencer was doing what Spencer did best: he was reeling in his prey, and he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his face.
The boy -- Marshall -- shrugged and licked his lips. Jon could feel his fingers itch as Spencer began to move his own fingertips over the boy's shoulder and down his arm. “Two of my best friends have the same name so we just go by our last names,” he shrugged, his eyes watching as Spencer began to trace along the pale flesh.
When his eyes flickered up to meet Spencer's, Spencer clasped his fingers over Marshall's wrist. “Come with us,” he breathed into Marshall's ear. “We want to show you something.”
“But the--” Marshall said, pointing to the area of the kitchen with his free thumb.
“Oh, don't worry about that,” Jon said in an husky voice. “We'll make sure you don't get into any trouble.”
“Are you sure?” Marshall whispered, his voice uneven.
“Promise,” Spencer answered softly, his lips brushing against Marshall's cheek. Jon watched the boy shudder against Spencer's touch. He almost felt the hot breath rolling into the canal of his own ear and grinned when Spencer turned around and smiled.
This was way too easy.
* * *
A limo came to pick them up, and Ryan had to laugh. Not like he wasn't used to limos, hell his father made sure that when he was growing up they had one everywhere they went. It's not about what you have, it's about the presentation of the lifestyle for which you lead, he would tell Ryan.
The comical part was how the limo was only a testimony of the decadence of the upper middle class and the parties that they threw.
“Bren, come on, the ride is here,” Ryan called, turning around and waiting for Brendon to come downstairs.
The house Ryan lived in was one of the best in the city, but it also was something that Ryan received with the inheritance. Sure, his father was well known for his invention of a high tech surveillance that boded very well with the casinos. In fact, George Ross had made such a name for himself that he began to do mergers with other Fortune 500 companies such as Google, Apple, and Microsoft before he passed away.
Ryan had met Bill Gates before he was a teenager. He had hung with stars and partied with musicians long before he reached the legal age of twenty-one. Although his father was well regarded for his sacrifices, with juggling a prospering company and a single-handedly raised a son, Ryan still felt that he raised himself. By the time he was eighteen, his father had died of a heart attack in his sleep, and Ryan was alone.
Except for Brendon.
He met Brendon at school. Ryan went to a public school, fully against his father's wishes, but he wanted to have something that was some semblance of a normal life. He wanted to be able to say that he went to school with other kids that weren't rich and snobby and snorting coke in the bathroom halls. He wanted to be able to make friends with people that didn't care about which kind of car you were driving.
Public school, however, proved to be harder than Ryan expected. Everyone was intimidated by him. They avoided him when he went to class in designer clothes and sunglasses. They made fun of him behind his back when he showed up in eyeliner and called him a snob under his breath.
It was Brendon who asked him to sit with him during lunch. It was Brendon who asked him to visit him after school. It was Brendon that asked him out on Ryan's first real date.
Brendon was a first for everything.
He heard Brendon's heavy footsteps descending the stairs, and Ryan's throat went dry at the sight. Brendon had chosen his outfit for the night, a silvery jacket with a button down silver dress shirt underneath. His dress pants were the same color as the jacket, and the cream scarf hung loosely around his neck, the fringe at the end contrasting the outfit as a whole.
“Wow,” Ryan whispered, and Brendon smiled brightly.
“You like?” he asked, extending both arms out.
“Very much so,” Ryan answered softly, walking over and wrapping an arm around Brendon's waist. “You look stunning.”
“Well, you do too,” Brendon mused, observing Ryan's white suit. “These pants show your ass off very well.”
Ryan chuckled, pinching Brendon's side. “Come on, we gotta go or we'll be late.”
* * *
Brendon was nervous. In fact, he was more than nervous; he was fucking scared shitless.
His leg bobbed as they began to edge closer into the driveway, the large mansion glittering in the moonlight. Ryan's hand rested on Brendon's wobbling knee, and Brendon looked over with wide eyes.
“Relax,” Ryan said softly.
Brendon chuckled. “Right. Relax.”
“Look,” Ryan continued, his voice remaining the same. “If you don't want to do it, you don't have to. It's completely your choice.”
Brendon nodded. “Right.”
Ryan leaned over and cupped the side of Brendon's face and rested their foreheads together. “We don't have to do this,” he whispered.
Brendon squeezed Ryan's wrist. “You want to do this?”
Ryan paused for a moment and sighed. “I don't know,” he said with an honest tone.
“I won't do anything unless you want to do it too, okay? I promise.” Brendon leaned closer and kissed him softly. “I promise,” he repeated.
The limo stopped, and the sound of the door opening jolted the two apart.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” the chauffeur greeted as an usher helped them out. “Please have your invitations ready. The doorman will be waiting for you.”
Brendon grabbed Ryan's hand and squeezed.
He was ready for this.
* * *
The guests were beautiful as always, dressed in white. It was Jon's part to come up with the theme, and he had to make sure that everyone was up to the standards that Spencer wanted. If someone wasn't to their expectations, they were immediately escorted home with the option of coming back. It wasn't that Jon condoned snobbery; it was just that Spencer and Jon strived for the best, and the best is what they got.
It was after all a part of the reason why their guests were there in the first place.
Spencer was on the prowl, and Jon knew this. He was looking for the perfect match, the couple that he would choose for them only, and while Spencer made his rounds, he also made sure that the doorman was aware to contact him immediately when the 'special' guests arrived. That was also something that benefited about having their own get-together: you got to run the show and see everything unveil.
Jon was the kind that liked to watch everyone gather around. He enjoyed observing Spencer work his magic through the crowd, smiling at the guests and whispering things in their ears to make them more at ease. He also loved Spencer in full action with their 'chosen ones': The way he carefully sipped at his champagne, the way he smiled and looked into their eyes like he saw their soul.
Spencer enjoyed being the life of the party. He loved the mingling and the formalities of getting to know all of their hand-picked guests. Jon smiled as Spencer hugged one of their regulars, Gabe, who per usual, had someone attached to each arm and, to Jon's surprise, saw it was William and Vicky. Jon recalled seeing Gabe with them last month. Gabe typically took it upon himself to change 'flavors', as he put it, to keep the party aspect alive and fresh. Either way, it certainly was a change of pace to see Gabriel Saporta with the same pair as the month prior.
Jon turned his thoughts to the events that took place earlier that afternoon when he watched Spencer fuck the twink of his choice. The boy was almost too much to handle, his eyes shut tightly, biting at his mouth to the point Jon was sure it would bleed. But it didn't, and he let Spencer lick inside, let him explore every part of him without any hesitation. He knew that the boy would not forget them, that whenever he fucked someone in the future, their cock sliding inside of him, the face of Spencer would flash against his eyelids.
He didn't mind that Spencer had his way as long as he asked for permission and that Jon was present. It was a part of the rules that they set up early on, and with complete trust and faith in each other, it was rather successful.
The lighting was low and the music melodic. The ambiance was just getting started, and Jon decided that it was time to start his first drink of the night, grabbing a champagne flute from one of the waiters walking around. No one was quite into the fucking mood yet, but it would be coming soon enough. It always did. When it did, all hell would break the fuck loose.
And Jon would be ready.
* * *
They had arrived. Spencer felt a jolt of anxiety in his stomach but still remained poker-faced. He was informed quickly of their arrival by the doorman whispering into his ear. Spencer nodded and began to make his way over to Jon. He knew Jon had been watching him, and with a sultry grin, he drew closer, settling his hand on his chest.
“They're here,” Spencer said softly, his eyes fixated on his hand on Jon's chest. Jon was wearing a white button down oxford shirt, the sleeves cuffed up to his elbows and black slacks. He refused to wear any footwear stating that it didn't aid in the removal of clothing that would be happening momentarily.
He watched Jon take a sip of his drink, eyes staring at the door. “Is that them?” he inquired softly, nodding his head at the two guests who walked inside.
Spencer turned around and studied the couple entering. One was wearing a silvery outfit with a white scarf, something that Spencer would've normally contemplated sending the guest home for, but on him, it was tantalizing to look at it. The young man had a mess of dark hair, and Spencer watched as he reached up to run his fingers through it with one hand while holding his partner's hand with the other. His partner -- who was a little taller and much leaner -- wore the proper ivory requirement with a black button-up underneath. Spencer studied the contrast between the two, the first man's luxurious hips and the second's mousy brown hair. They were completely different, yet they fit.
Perfect. Just perfect.
Spencer turned around and smiled. “Yup, that's them. Shall we...” He wiggled his eyebrows, earning a chuckle from Jon who leaned forward to brush his lips against his ear.
“Anything you wish,” he whispered, and Spencer's eyes fluttered shut at the hot breath.
They waited a moment, watching the couple discard their jackets and the one of his scarf. Spencer stared at the curves of his body, the beautiful hips and full ass. Yes, Spencer definitely found the one he was going to be taking tonight.
Jon always teased that Spencer had a thing for 'fucking twinks'. Spencer tended to disagree, stating that he loved to fuck beautiful people. Sometimes, they fell into the category of having the more cherubic facial features, the soft lines and smaller framed bodies. They were gorgeous underneath him, their slender legs wrapping around his hips and high pitched moans in his ear--
“Let's go,” Jon urged, his voice husky and soft.
Spencer swallowed the remains of his drink and nodded.
It was time.
* * *
Ryan didn't know how to act about these things. Brendon insisted that he take a glass of champagne to 'loosen him up', stating that he was too tense.
“It's okay,” Brendon reassured, and Ryan chuckled.
“Hey, wasn't I the one helping you out in the limo not that long ago?”
Brendon shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “That was before I saw how many hot people were here...” He lifted a hand to Ryan's face, his fingertips tracing along the curve of his ear. “And how gorgeous you would look fucking some of them.”
Ryan eyes fell shut, and he took in a sharp breath, shaking his head. “You tease,” he said softly before opening his eyes and taking a liberal drink to sooth the itch in his dry throat.
Brendon lifted his glass and raised an eyebrow. “You love it,” he winked, and Ryan couldn't help but laugh.
“Of course,” he replied affectionately, leaning in and giving Brendon a small kiss.
Brendon's eyes fluttered shut, and he smiled, letting out a satisfied “mmm”. “Now that's what I'm talking about,” he remarked.
Ryan continued to look at Brendon, his fingers brushing through his hair as they both looked into the crowd. “See anything?” Ryan asked, his eyes observing various couples, some of which were already beginning to get down to business.
“Nah,” Brendon said with a bored expression. “Let's go upstairs.”
Ryan nodded and followed.
* * *
Jon noticed Spencer's jaw clench when another couple stopped the two men.
“They better not be doing what I think they're doing,” Spencer hissed.
“Spence, you can't force them--”
“No,” Spencer cut Jon off, “I want them, and I want them for us. Not Greta and Cash, us.”
Jon wrapped his arms around Spencer's waist from behind, nudging his nose in his neck. He could instantly feel Spencer relax against the gesture, placing small kissing along the slope.
“If they want to go with them, you can't stop them,” he murmured against Spencer's skin. He smelled of cologne and body wash. A mixture of musky and fresh.
Spencer sighed, “I know, I just...”
“I know,” Jon replied.
“They're so beautiful,” Spencer whispered.
“I know,” Jon whispered back.
* * *
Brendon declined the couple as politely as he could because he had other options in mind. They were not there to settle for second best. They were there to find what they were looking for and actually get it.
They were there for what they wanted.
Brendon knew what he wanted. He knew the moment he walked in the mansion. But what Brendon failed to do was tell Ryan that he saw them. “Them” being the operative word in the current situation. When he first came in, Brendon kept an observant eye, trying to find a pair that struck him. It wasn't until he saw the two men near the staircase that he felt something. They were speaking to each other intently, and the lighter brown-haired one struck something inside of him. He wore a gorgeous white suite, hand steady with his glass, smiling widely. The other man had darker hair and a clean-shaven face (as opposed to the first), and when he smiled, it looked like he could light the room.
Either way, Brendon was hooked. There was something about them, something that was overwhelming and intriguing and downright sexy. They were comfortable in their skins, and Brendon wanted that.
He wanted that now.
Ryan continued to hold onto his hand, and Brendon gave a reassuring squeeze as they walked up the stairs slowly. They began to pass various rooms, shameless echoed moans of men and women filling the hallways. The noises were both exhilarating and very sensual to Brendon. As he walked down the hall, he saw a man with a wide grin on his face exit out of a room, his arm wrapped around a dark-haired girl. The man was topless, his body ornate with tattoos. Brendon couldn't help it, but his eyes looked over his glistening flesh. Wow, he was hot.
“Well, look at you,” the man purred, as Brendon walked by. “Hang on a second!” Brendon stopped and turned around, raising his eyebrows curiously, and the man smiled. “I've never seen you here before.”
Brendon grinned and shrugged. “Well, that's because we've never been.”
“Pete,” the man introduced himself, holding out a hand. Brendon accepted the gesture, acknowledging the firm grip. “This is my wife, Ashlee.”
“Nice to meet you. I'm Brendon, and this is my boyfriend Ryan.” Ryan gave a small wave, his hand tightening around Brendon's hand.
Pete gave a sly grin and looked over Ryan with a hungry look in his eyes before focusing back on Brendon. “First time, huh?” he asked, and Brendon nodded slowly. “Whatever you do, don't settle. Otherwise, you'll never want to do it again. But...” his eyes flickered over to Ashlee, and the grin increased. “You should go to the room at the end of the hall there. It'll be worthwhile.”
“What's in the room at the end of the hall?” Ryan asked quietly.
“Nothing now, but if you hang out long enough, you'll find out,” Pete said cryptically and continued to smile. Brendon wasn't put off by the smile at all; in fact, he felt strangely comfortable talking to the man, considering he was pretty much a stranger.
“Alright, we'll check it out,” Brendon said, turning around to glance at the open door at the end of the hall.
“Well, we better go,” Pete said softly. “Travis is waiting for us.” He turned to look at Ashlee, “You know how much he hates waiting.” Ashlee giggled and lifted her hand to say goodbye as the couple turned around and exited.
“They were nice,” Brendon observed.
Ryan snorted. “Sure, in that 'just fucked the ever-loving daylights out of someone and made casual conversation about it' kind of way.”
“What's wrong with that?” Brendon mused.
“Did you not notice that his pants were practically falling off his hips? He was damn near naked!” Ryan exclaimed as they began to draw closer to the room. The notes of soft sensual music filled the air as they walked closer, and after taking a quick peek inside, Brendon shrugged and walked in.
The room was illuminated with candles surrounding an overly large bed. A wall of mirrors stood to the right near the entrance, reflecting the inside of the room showing the white rose petals that surrounded the outside of the bed, a contrast to the crimson sheets.
“Wow,” Brendon breathed, his eyes wide.
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, his voice equally as breathless.
“Like what you see?” someone asked from behind them, making them both jump and turn around.
“Um,” Brendon began. It was him, the one that he was looking at downstairs. His heart began to race, and out of sheer nerves, Brendon's grip tightened against Ryan's hand to the point he knew it was painful. Ryan didn't flinch, his face even and hand still attached to Brendon's.
The man continued to smile slyly and leaned against the wall near the entrance. “I apologize... I didn't mean to startle you.” His voice was like liquid lust, and it did something to Brendon that sunk deep inside of his bones. The man continued to look at Brendon, his blue eyes reflective against the candlelight, and it was then that Brendon realized he was much more good-looking up close. Something inside of Brendon turned over, and a wave of heat rushed through all of his veins.
“I-I mean, we--” Brendon began, finding himself at a loss for words. The man in front of him raised a hand and shook his head, the smile still plastered on his face.
“It's okay,” he said in a soothing voice and pulled himself off the wall. “It's not like this room is completely off limits... I mean, the door was open after all, yes?”
Brendon nodded, feeling himself being pulled by the man's use of words. He felt like a child to the Pied Piper, at the mercy of a stranger's voice, and if he was told to do something, he would. Brendon watched as the man flickered his eyes over to Ryan, blinking slowly and pulling a hand out.
“Spencer,” he said in a velvety voice.
“Oh, um, Ryan... Ryan Ross,” Ryan answered, his voice somewhat unsteady.
Spencer raised an impressed eyebrow. “The Ryan Ross? The living son of the Ross Dynasty?”
Ryan chuckled somewhat and shook his head. “Hardly a dynasty when you're the second in line, huh?”
Spencer shrugged, his movement fluid. “It's what everyone calls it...” His eyes searched over Ryan's appearance, and Brendon felt his heart flutter at the way he undressed Ryan with his stare. He could feel Ryan's fingers twitch against his hand and, through his peripheral, saw him lick his lips.
Spencer continued to eye fuck Ryan for a few more fleeting seconds before averting his gaze to Brendon. Brendon almost jumped again at the intensity of Spencer's crystal blue eyes.
“And you are?” he asked, his voice drawling and oozing heat.
“Brendon,” Brendon answered quietly, his heart racing so fast he thought for a brief moment that he would pass out just on pure adrenaline.
“Hmm,” Spencer hummed, walking closer to Brendon, his eyes becoming more intense as he grew closer. “That's a...” He trailed off, inching a finger down Brendon's chest, his eyes fixated on its path before looking back at Brendon. “Very nice name,” he finished.
The sound of someone clearing his throat made Spencer turn around slowly. “Oh, Jon!” he said in a delighted tone. “How good of you to join us!” He turned to Ryan and Brendon, “Ryan, Brendon, this is Jon.” Spencer lifted an extended hand to the man named Jon. “He is my partner.”
Brendon looked at Jon and felt heat crawl all over his body. Jon's eyes were inviting and warm, almost caring. They looked at each other for a moment, and Brendon gazed over Jon's appearance, at his lips and cheekbones before gazing back up at him. He watched the other man smile for a second before turning to look at Ryan.
It was a tiny sound, but Brendon heard it clearly when Jon looked Ryan, the intensity in his eyes increasing as Ryan gasped.
Part Two
Author: buildyourwalls
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan, Jon/Spencer, GSF
Word Count: ~10,400
Disclaimer: Not real, didn't happen.
Summary: AU. It was the kind of party meant exclusively for the upper class: the most rich, the most famous, and most of all, the most beautiful. If you were not to the standards of the hosts', you simply were not invited. When Brendon and Ryan do get invited, they find that they are in for more than they bargained for.
Beta: My MFEO, spazzyskittles
Dedication: To arctic_grey for your infinite patience and love. Thanks for dealing with my insanity and ridiculous behavior the past three weeks. To samedifference_ for feeding my ego and supporting me through and through with every thing I do. And most of all to my beta, spazzyskittles for being one of the most wonderful people I've ever met in my life.
Author Notes: This originally stemmed from a conversation with samedifference_ about GSF's and after watching too much Real Sex and other porno documentaries, this came to life and I wrote it literally in two days. It's kind of my ideal take on how group sex should happen.
If fault were to be placed on someone, it would've been on their friend Gabe. It was, after all, Gabe's idea.
But it was Brendon who accepted.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ryan asked cautiously. He knew that Brendon was the more adventurous of the two, but monogamy was always something that Ryan kept close to his heart.
Brendon's smile curved, his eyes fixated on the computer screen. “Absolutely.”
Well, Ryan thought, you only live once.
* * *
If it wasn't for Ryan's father’s having a big name in the corporate world, they probably wouldn't have been chosen for an invitation.
Brendon had heard about friends who had attended swinger parties before. However, it was the result of a few experimental horny people who fucked around with each other and then went home sated and happy. He had, however, never heard of a party that was of this caliber. A kind of party meant exclusively for the upper class: the richest, the most famous, and most of all, the most beautiful. If you were not to the standards of the hosts, you simply were not invited.
The process was grueling. Everyone had to submit a picture and a profile of themselves and their respective partners. Name, age, sex, orientation, along with your favorite position, kinks, do's and don'ts: the whole nine yards. After the preliminary info was submitted, the prospective guests would be emailed with a follow-up, which included a phone interview with a representative of the group planning the party. If you made it through that, you could pretty much guarantee you were in.
The invitations would come via postal mail, and when they arrived, the excitement made Brendon's skin burn. He pulled them out with shaky hands and giggled at the cream-colored paper adorned with royal blue script font.
“I can't fucking believe this,” Brendon whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.
Ryan chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. “You're gonna have to tell me all of the basics to this, you know,” he said leaning against the kitchen counter. “I don't want to go in completely green.”
“Yeah, of course,” Brendon agreed with a dismissive wave of his hand, looking down at the invitation with wide eyes. He shook his head once more, the smile growing wider. He glanced up at Ryan and chuckled with glee before walking over and wrapping his arms around Ryan's neck.
“Have I ever told you you're the best boyfriend anyone could have?” he whispered.
Ryan shrugged, his arms still crossed over his chest. “I've heard it maybe once or twice,” he said with a small grin.
“Well, you are,” Brendon breathed, loosening an arm and setting the invitations on the counter. He inched closer and brushed his lips against Ryan's. “You're the most amazing boyfriend I've ever had.”
Ryan snorted. “All because I found the most prestigious sex party in Las Vegas? Classy.”
Brendon shook his head, his eyes looking up into Ryan's golden eyes. “No,” he said softly, “because you trust our relationship and me so much that you would be willing to try this out and know that it wouldn't sever my love for you.”
Ryan nodded, unlocking his arms and wrapping them around Brendon's waist, pulling him closer. “Always,” he said in a low husky voice.
Brendon smiled, gripping the back of Ryan's neck and pulling him toward his mouth. He pressed their lips together softly, his tongue flickering out against the seam of Ryan's mouth. Ryan sighed against the pressure and began to open to allow Brendon better access. They continued to kiss languidly, Brendon tightening his arms around Ryan's neck and sliding his thigh between the other man's legs.
He could feel Ryan grow harder as he began to nip at his neck, sucking lightly and applying just the right amount of pressure with his teeth to drive him over the edge. He sensed Ryan's soft moans against his lips, smiling as he gave a long lick over the indentures carved into Ryan's skin.
“What do you want?” he whispered against Ryan's ear. Brendon began to undo Ryan's belt and, with careful hands, unzipped his pants. “You want me to fuck you against the counter? Would you like that?”
“Jesus, Bren,” Ryan breathed back, his hands bracing against the back of the counter. He gave an intense look, his honey-colored eyes mere rims of color against dilated pupils.
Brendon chuckled and pulled up Ryan's shirt, kissing softly against Ryan's ribs, stomach and hips as he fell to his knees, facing perfectly in front of Ryan's hard cock. He gazed up with innocent eyes, wide and round.
“What if I suck you off and finger fuck you at the same time, would you like that?”
Ryan's breathing was thrown completely off kilter, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He nodded his head vigorously, eyes remaining connected with Brendon as he tugged at his pants, freeing Ryan from the confines of his jeans. Brendon grabbed at the base of his cock, listening to Ryan give out a stifled moan as Brendon licked the tip with the flat of his tongue before trailing small kisses down the shaft.
He felt Ryan grab a fistful of his hair gently, so gently, and Brendon pulled back sucking on his index finger. He licked over it like it was Ryan's cock, closing his eyes and moaning against it as he placed his free hand on Ryan's thigh. Ryan was thrumming against the affection, and when Brendon opened his eyes, he placed his finger teasingly around Ryan's entrance.
“I'll let you come on my face if you want,” Brendon whispered in a husky voice, his eyes locked on Ryan.
“Fuck yeah,” Ryan breathed lustfully.
Brendon chuckled as he leaned closer and continued to suck Ryan off.
* * *
Spencer grinned at Jon as they watched the caterers set up the food in the formal dining room area.
“You always insist on putting all of this food out as though people will eat it,” Jon mused from behind him, wrapping one arm over his chest. He didn't understand the need for a lavish display when people were going to be focusing more on their sexual escapades.
Spencer leaned into the touch. “They do use it, just not for nutritional value,” he remarked, watching the beautiful row of champagne glasses being set up. “How are the rooms?” he asked, turning to look at Jon with a solemn face.
Jon leaned over and kissed Spencer's cheek affectionately. “Perfect.” When Spencer raised an eyebrow, he gave a pointed look. “Don't you believe me?”
"Sure, I believe you," Spencer said with a grin, eyes searching over Jon's face and focusing on his lips before darting back up to his eyes. His expression darkened. "That is, I used to until last month's disaster happened."
Jon let out a sputter of astonishment, his eyes wide. "You know that wasn't my fault!" he exclaimed. "I told you the company switched the deliveries and that's why--"
His excuses were cut off quickly as Spencer spun around and kissed him aggressively. Jon moaned against Spencer's mouth, their tongues dancing against each other. The taste of Spencer was almost overwhelming but not nearly as overwhelming as when he began to bite affectionately against Jon's bottom lip followed by grazing his tongue at the roof of his mouth.
Everything was becoming a light, lovely haze of warmth until the noise of someone clearing their throat interrupted Jon's thoughts, and the couple separated hastily. Spencer turned around and crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his eyebrow. Jon could feel the annoyance radiate off of Spencer, and he couldn't help but lick his own lips.
“Yes?” Spencer asked authoritatively. It was a voice that Spencer used when he didn't want to be bothered, and Jon watched as the young man's eyes widened.
“Um... Mr. Smith, sir? We wanted to let you know that we loaded everything into the kitchen and the--” He clamped his mouth shut when Spencer lifted a hand.
“Jon?” Spencer called for Jon, who took the opportunity to disappear from behind him. His eyes remained fixated on the young man's face, hair sweeping over his eyes. When Jon drew close to him, Spencer turned and raised his eyebrows. “What do you think?”
Jon tilted his head and gave a catlike smile. “Well, I don't know. What do you think?”
The boy's expression was of complete confusion and nerves. It was obvious that he had no idea what they were talking about, and being in control was what Spencer lived off of. The young ones were always easier to persuade.
“I like,” Spencer replied, his voice low. Jon watched as Spencer looked intently at the boy and lifted a single finger to brush his hair out of his eyes. “What's your name?”
“Alex,” the boy answered quietly, his cheeks flushing. He began to look down at the paper in his hands. “But everyone calls me Marshall,” he added shyly.
“And why is that?” Spencer purred. Jon snickered behind him. Spencer was doing what Spencer did best: he was reeling in his prey, and he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his face.
The boy -- Marshall -- shrugged and licked his lips. Jon could feel his fingers itch as Spencer began to move his own fingertips over the boy's shoulder and down his arm. “Two of my best friends have the same name so we just go by our last names,” he shrugged, his eyes watching as Spencer began to trace along the pale flesh.
When his eyes flickered up to meet Spencer's, Spencer clasped his fingers over Marshall's wrist. “Come with us,” he breathed into Marshall's ear. “We want to show you something.”
“But the--” Marshall said, pointing to the area of the kitchen with his free thumb.
“Oh, don't worry about that,” Jon said in an husky voice. “We'll make sure you don't get into any trouble.”
“Are you sure?” Marshall whispered, his voice uneven.
“Promise,” Spencer answered softly, his lips brushing against Marshall's cheek. Jon watched the boy shudder against Spencer's touch. He almost felt the hot breath rolling into the canal of his own ear and grinned when Spencer turned around and smiled.
This was way too easy.
* * *
A limo came to pick them up, and Ryan had to laugh. Not like he wasn't used to limos, hell his father made sure that when he was growing up they had one everywhere they went. It's not about what you have, it's about the presentation of the lifestyle for which you lead, he would tell Ryan.
The comical part was how the limo was only a testimony of the decadence of the upper middle class and the parties that they threw.
“Bren, come on, the ride is here,” Ryan called, turning around and waiting for Brendon to come downstairs.
The house Ryan lived in was one of the best in the city, but it also was something that Ryan received with the inheritance. Sure, his father was well known for his invention of a high tech surveillance that boded very well with the casinos. In fact, George Ross had made such a name for himself that he began to do mergers with other Fortune 500 companies such as Google, Apple, and Microsoft before he passed away.
Ryan had met Bill Gates before he was a teenager. He had hung with stars and partied with musicians long before he reached the legal age of twenty-one. Although his father was well regarded for his sacrifices, with juggling a prospering company and a single-handedly raised a son, Ryan still felt that he raised himself. By the time he was eighteen, his father had died of a heart attack in his sleep, and Ryan was alone.
Except for Brendon.
He met Brendon at school. Ryan went to a public school, fully against his father's wishes, but he wanted to have something that was some semblance of a normal life. He wanted to be able to say that he went to school with other kids that weren't rich and snobby and snorting coke in the bathroom halls. He wanted to be able to make friends with people that didn't care about which kind of car you were driving.
Public school, however, proved to be harder than Ryan expected. Everyone was intimidated by him. They avoided him when he went to class in designer clothes and sunglasses. They made fun of him behind his back when he showed up in eyeliner and called him a snob under his breath.
It was Brendon who asked him to sit with him during lunch. It was Brendon who asked him to visit him after school. It was Brendon that asked him out on Ryan's first real date.
Brendon was a first for everything.
He heard Brendon's heavy footsteps descending the stairs, and Ryan's throat went dry at the sight. Brendon had chosen his outfit for the night, a silvery jacket with a button down silver dress shirt underneath. His dress pants were the same color as the jacket, and the cream scarf hung loosely around his neck, the fringe at the end contrasting the outfit as a whole.
“Wow,” Ryan whispered, and Brendon smiled brightly.
“You like?” he asked, extending both arms out.
“Very much so,” Ryan answered softly, walking over and wrapping an arm around Brendon's waist. “You look stunning.”
“Well, you do too,” Brendon mused, observing Ryan's white suit. “These pants show your ass off very well.”
Ryan chuckled, pinching Brendon's side. “Come on, we gotta go or we'll be late.”
* * *
Brendon was nervous. In fact, he was more than nervous; he was fucking scared shitless.
His leg bobbed as they began to edge closer into the driveway, the large mansion glittering in the moonlight. Ryan's hand rested on Brendon's wobbling knee, and Brendon looked over with wide eyes.
“Relax,” Ryan said softly.
Brendon chuckled. “Right. Relax.”
“Look,” Ryan continued, his voice remaining the same. “If you don't want to do it, you don't have to. It's completely your choice.”
Brendon nodded. “Right.”
Ryan leaned over and cupped the side of Brendon's face and rested their foreheads together. “We don't have to do this,” he whispered.
Brendon squeezed Ryan's wrist. “You want to do this?”
Ryan paused for a moment and sighed. “I don't know,” he said with an honest tone.
“I won't do anything unless you want to do it too, okay? I promise.” Brendon leaned closer and kissed him softly. “I promise,” he repeated.
The limo stopped, and the sound of the door opening jolted the two apart.
“Welcome, gentlemen,” the chauffeur greeted as an usher helped them out. “Please have your invitations ready. The doorman will be waiting for you.”
Brendon grabbed Ryan's hand and squeezed.
He was ready for this.
* * *
The guests were beautiful as always, dressed in white. It was Jon's part to come up with the theme, and he had to make sure that everyone was up to the standards that Spencer wanted. If someone wasn't to their expectations, they were immediately escorted home with the option of coming back. It wasn't that Jon condoned snobbery; it was just that Spencer and Jon strived for the best, and the best is what they got.
It was after all a part of the reason why their guests were there in the first place.
Spencer was on the prowl, and Jon knew this. He was looking for the perfect match, the couple that he would choose for them only, and while Spencer made his rounds, he also made sure that the doorman was aware to contact him immediately when the 'special' guests arrived. That was also something that benefited about having their own get-together: you got to run the show and see everything unveil.
Jon was the kind that liked to watch everyone gather around. He enjoyed observing Spencer work his magic through the crowd, smiling at the guests and whispering things in their ears to make them more at ease. He also loved Spencer in full action with their 'chosen ones': The way he carefully sipped at his champagne, the way he smiled and looked into their eyes like he saw their soul.
Spencer enjoyed being the life of the party. He loved the mingling and the formalities of getting to know all of their hand-picked guests. Jon smiled as Spencer hugged one of their regulars, Gabe, who per usual, had someone attached to each arm and, to Jon's surprise, saw it was William and Vicky. Jon recalled seeing Gabe with them last month. Gabe typically took it upon himself to change 'flavors', as he put it, to keep the party aspect alive and fresh. Either way, it certainly was a change of pace to see Gabriel Saporta with the same pair as the month prior.
Jon turned his thoughts to the events that took place earlier that afternoon when he watched Spencer fuck the twink of his choice. The boy was almost too much to handle, his eyes shut tightly, biting at his mouth to the point Jon was sure it would bleed. But it didn't, and he let Spencer lick inside, let him explore every part of him without any hesitation. He knew that the boy would not forget them, that whenever he fucked someone in the future, their cock sliding inside of him, the face of Spencer would flash against his eyelids.
He didn't mind that Spencer had his way as long as he asked for permission and that Jon was present. It was a part of the rules that they set up early on, and with complete trust and faith in each other, it was rather successful.
The lighting was low and the music melodic. The ambiance was just getting started, and Jon decided that it was time to start his first drink of the night, grabbing a champagne flute from one of the waiters walking around. No one was quite into the fucking mood yet, but it would be coming soon enough. It always did. When it did, all hell would break the fuck loose.
And Jon would be ready.
* * *
They had arrived. Spencer felt a jolt of anxiety in his stomach but still remained poker-faced. He was informed quickly of their arrival by the doorman whispering into his ear. Spencer nodded and began to make his way over to Jon. He knew Jon had been watching him, and with a sultry grin, he drew closer, settling his hand on his chest.
“They're here,” Spencer said softly, his eyes fixated on his hand on Jon's chest. Jon was wearing a white button down oxford shirt, the sleeves cuffed up to his elbows and black slacks. He refused to wear any footwear stating that it didn't aid in the removal of clothing that would be happening momentarily.
He watched Jon take a sip of his drink, eyes staring at the door. “Is that them?” he inquired softly, nodding his head at the two guests who walked inside.
Spencer turned around and studied the couple entering. One was wearing a silvery outfit with a white scarf, something that Spencer would've normally contemplated sending the guest home for, but on him, it was tantalizing to look at it. The young man had a mess of dark hair, and Spencer watched as he reached up to run his fingers through it with one hand while holding his partner's hand with the other. His partner -- who was a little taller and much leaner -- wore the proper ivory requirement with a black button-up underneath. Spencer studied the contrast between the two, the first man's luxurious hips and the second's mousy brown hair. They were completely different, yet they fit.
Perfect. Just perfect.
Spencer turned around and smiled. “Yup, that's them. Shall we...” He wiggled his eyebrows, earning a chuckle from Jon who leaned forward to brush his lips against his ear.
“Anything you wish,” he whispered, and Spencer's eyes fluttered shut at the hot breath.
They waited a moment, watching the couple discard their jackets and the one of his scarf. Spencer stared at the curves of his body, the beautiful hips and full ass. Yes, Spencer definitely found the one he was going to be taking tonight.
Jon always teased that Spencer had a thing for 'fucking twinks'. Spencer tended to disagree, stating that he loved to fuck beautiful people. Sometimes, they fell into the category of having the more cherubic facial features, the soft lines and smaller framed bodies. They were gorgeous underneath him, their slender legs wrapping around his hips and high pitched moans in his ear--
“Let's go,” Jon urged, his voice husky and soft.
Spencer swallowed the remains of his drink and nodded.
It was time.
* * *
Ryan didn't know how to act about these things. Brendon insisted that he take a glass of champagne to 'loosen him up', stating that he was too tense.
“It's okay,” Brendon reassured, and Ryan chuckled.
“Hey, wasn't I the one helping you out in the limo not that long ago?”
Brendon shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “That was before I saw how many hot people were here...” He lifted a hand to Ryan's face, his fingertips tracing along the curve of his ear. “And how gorgeous you would look fucking some of them.”
Ryan eyes fell shut, and he took in a sharp breath, shaking his head. “You tease,” he said softly before opening his eyes and taking a liberal drink to sooth the itch in his dry throat.
Brendon lifted his glass and raised an eyebrow. “You love it,” he winked, and Ryan couldn't help but laugh.
“Of course,” he replied affectionately, leaning in and giving Brendon a small kiss.
Brendon's eyes fluttered shut, and he smiled, letting out a satisfied “mmm”. “Now that's what I'm talking about,” he remarked.
Ryan continued to look at Brendon, his fingers brushing through his hair as they both looked into the crowd. “See anything?” Ryan asked, his eyes observing various couples, some of which were already beginning to get down to business.
“Nah,” Brendon said with a bored expression. “Let's go upstairs.”
Ryan nodded and followed.
* * *
Jon noticed Spencer's jaw clench when another couple stopped the two men.
“They better not be doing what I think they're doing,” Spencer hissed.
“Spence, you can't force them--”
“No,” Spencer cut Jon off, “I want them, and I want them for us. Not Greta and Cash, us.”
Jon wrapped his arms around Spencer's waist from behind, nudging his nose in his neck. He could instantly feel Spencer relax against the gesture, placing small kissing along the slope.
“If they want to go with them, you can't stop them,” he murmured against Spencer's skin. He smelled of cologne and body wash. A mixture of musky and fresh.
Spencer sighed, “I know, I just...”
“I know,” Jon replied.
“They're so beautiful,” Spencer whispered.
“I know,” Jon whispered back.
* * *
Brendon declined the couple as politely as he could because he had other options in mind. They were not there to settle for second best. They were there to find what they were looking for and actually get it.
They were there for what they wanted.
Brendon knew what he wanted. He knew the moment he walked in the mansion. But what Brendon failed to do was tell Ryan that he saw them. “Them” being the operative word in the current situation. When he first came in, Brendon kept an observant eye, trying to find a pair that struck him. It wasn't until he saw the two men near the staircase that he felt something. They were speaking to each other intently, and the lighter brown-haired one struck something inside of him. He wore a gorgeous white suite, hand steady with his glass, smiling widely. The other man had darker hair and a clean-shaven face (as opposed to the first), and when he smiled, it looked like he could light the room.
Either way, Brendon was hooked. There was something about them, something that was overwhelming and intriguing and downright sexy. They were comfortable in their skins, and Brendon wanted that.
He wanted that now.
Ryan continued to hold onto his hand, and Brendon gave a reassuring squeeze as they walked up the stairs slowly. They began to pass various rooms, shameless echoed moans of men and women filling the hallways. The noises were both exhilarating and very sensual to Brendon. As he walked down the hall, he saw a man with a wide grin on his face exit out of a room, his arm wrapped around a dark-haired girl. The man was topless, his body ornate with tattoos. Brendon couldn't help it, but his eyes looked over his glistening flesh. Wow, he was hot.
“Well, look at you,” the man purred, as Brendon walked by. “Hang on a second!” Brendon stopped and turned around, raising his eyebrows curiously, and the man smiled. “I've never seen you here before.”
Brendon grinned and shrugged. “Well, that's because we've never been.”
“Pete,” the man introduced himself, holding out a hand. Brendon accepted the gesture, acknowledging the firm grip. “This is my wife, Ashlee.”
“Nice to meet you. I'm Brendon, and this is my boyfriend Ryan.” Ryan gave a small wave, his hand tightening around Brendon's hand.
Pete gave a sly grin and looked over Ryan with a hungry look in his eyes before focusing back on Brendon. “First time, huh?” he asked, and Brendon nodded slowly. “Whatever you do, don't settle. Otherwise, you'll never want to do it again. But...” his eyes flickered over to Ashlee, and the grin increased. “You should go to the room at the end of the hall there. It'll be worthwhile.”
“What's in the room at the end of the hall?” Ryan asked quietly.
“Nothing now, but if you hang out long enough, you'll find out,” Pete said cryptically and continued to smile. Brendon wasn't put off by the smile at all; in fact, he felt strangely comfortable talking to the man, considering he was pretty much a stranger.
“Alright, we'll check it out,” Brendon said, turning around to glance at the open door at the end of the hall.
“Well, we better go,” Pete said softly. “Travis is waiting for us.” He turned to look at Ashlee, “You know how much he hates waiting.” Ashlee giggled and lifted her hand to say goodbye as the couple turned around and exited.
“They were nice,” Brendon observed.
Ryan snorted. “Sure, in that 'just fucked the ever-loving daylights out of someone and made casual conversation about it' kind of way.”
“What's wrong with that?” Brendon mused.
“Did you not notice that his pants were practically falling off his hips? He was damn near naked!” Ryan exclaimed as they began to draw closer to the room. The notes of soft sensual music filled the air as they walked closer, and after taking a quick peek inside, Brendon shrugged and walked in.
The room was illuminated with candles surrounding an overly large bed. A wall of mirrors stood to the right near the entrance, reflecting the inside of the room showing the white rose petals that surrounded the outside of the bed, a contrast to the crimson sheets.
“Wow,” Brendon breathed, his eyes wide.
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, his voice equally as breathless.
“Like what you see?” someone asked from behind them, making them both jump and turn around.
“Um,” Brendon began. It was him, the one that he was looking at downstairs. His heart began to race, and out of sheer nerves, Brendon's grip tightened against Ryan's hand to the point he knew it was painful. Ryan didn't flinch, his face even and hand still attached to Brendon's.
The man continued to smile slyly and leaned against the wall near the entrance. “I apologize... I didn't mean to startle you.” His voice was like liquid lust, and it did something to Brendon that sunk deep inside of his bones. The man continued to look at Brendon, his blue eyes reflective against the candlelight, and it was then that Brendon realized he was much more good-looking up close. Something inside of Brendon turned over, and a wave of heat rushed through all of his veins.
“I-I mean, we--” Brendon began, finding himself at a loss for words. The man in front of him raised a hand and shook his head, the smile still plastered on his face.
“It's okay,” he said in a soothing voice and pulled himself off the wall. “It's not like this room is completely off limits... I mean, the door was open after all, yes?”
Brendon nodded, feeling himself being pulled by the man's use of words. He felt like a child to the Pied Piper, at the mercy of a stranger's voice, and if he was told to do something, he would. Brendon watched as the man flickered his eyes over to Ryan, blinking slowly and pulling a hand out.
“Spencer,” he said in a velvety voice.
“Oh, um, Ryan... Ryan Ross,” Ryan answered, his voice somewhat unsteady.
Spencer raised an impressed eyebrow. “The Ryan Ross? The living son of the Ross Dynasty?”
Ryan chuckled somewhat and shook his head. “Hardly a dynasty when you're the second in line, huh?”
Spencer shrugged, his movement fluid. “It's what everyone calls it...” His eyes searched over Ryan's appearance, and Brendon felt his heart flutter at the way he undressed Ryan with his stare. He could feel Ryan's fingers twitch against his hand and, through his peripheral, saw him lick his lips.
Spencer continued to eye fuck Ryan for a few more fleeting seconds before averting his gaze to Brendon. Brendon almost jumped again at the intensity of Spencer's crystal blue eyes.
“And you are?” he asked, his voice drawling and oozing heat.
“Brendon,” Brendon answered quietly, his heart racing so fast he thought for a brief moment that he would pass out just on pure adrenaline.
“Hmm,” Spencer hummed, walking closer to Brendon, his eyes becoming more intense as he grew closer. “That's a...” He trailed off, inching a finger down Brendon's chest, his eyes fixated on its path before looking back at Brendon. “Very nice name,” he finished.
The sound of someone clearing his throat made Spencer turn around slowly. “Oh, Jon!” he said in a delighted tone. “How good of you to join us!” He turned to Ryan and Brendon, “Ryan, Brendon, this is Jon.” Spencer lifted an extended hand to the man named Jon. “He is my partner.”
Brendon looked at Jon and felt heat crawl all over his body. Jon's eyes were inviting and warm, almost caring. They looked at each other for a moment, and Brendon gazed over Jon's appearance, at his lips and cheekbones before gazing back up at him. He watched the other man smile for a second before turning to look at Ryan.
It was a tiny sound, but Brendon heard it clearly when Jon looked Ryan, the intensity in his eyes increasing as Ryan gasped.
Part Two