Gainsay, part 2

[choclitbunny]

They practically had a system at this point. Through practice, assumptions, and a little trial and error, they both learned how to read each other’s signs. Sometimes Brendon knew by how Ryan would leave the room unexpectedly, suggestively. Sometimes Ryan knew because Brendon would throw him dark, intense glances when no one else was paying attention. They always knew. Maybe it was just because it was always what they both wanted. If it looked even slightly suggestive, it was exactly what it looked like.

So when Ryan got up from his bunk at two in the morning and left the door open, very provocatively in Brendon’s opinion, Brendon didn’t wait thirty seconds to follow.

They always tried to wait until Jon and Spencer were asleep, and they especially liked to rendezvous up front if the bus was moving. The sound of the engine rumbling and the road zipping beneath them made things harder to hear, like this particular night.

It all made Brendon feel like he and Ryan had developed their own means of communication. A Ryan-Brendon language, of sorts.

Ryan was standing in the kitchenette when Brendon eased the door shut and crept through the darkness to find him. With both long hands resting behind him against the counter, Ryan watched Brendon sneak closer.

The light came through the covered windows in predictable, subtle flashes from the street lights they passed like a soft blinker was placed outside the bus windows. They liked it better when it was almost pitch black.

When Brendon came closer and set his hands on the counter on either side of Ryan, the lanky boy could see Brendon’s eyes half-lidded.

“Hey,” said Brendon. Their faces were barely an inch apart.

“Hey.” Ryan’s voice was already getting raspy. He bumped his nose against Brendon’s like a dog and Brendon smiled.

Brendon pressed in for the kiss first and Ryan was waiting for him the moment they made contact. Skipping over any preliminary, getting-in-the-mood kissing, they hurled themselves straight into full-blown tongue kissing.

Brendon fucking loved how they could do that. He loved how they could go straight into it if they wanted to and wouldn’t have to waste time with getting in the mood or trying to figure out if the other wanted it. Brendon Urie’s one complaint about females was that he always felt like he had to ask before he kissed them, or did anything for that matter. He always tried to take things slower with them or else they would slap him in the face and call him a pig. With Ryan, Brendon always half-expected to be asked what took him so long.

Things began to feel too silent as they kissed, and Brendon liked sounds. He liked moaning and screaming and speech when he was with someone. And if they couldn’t moan loud, he could settle for whispering. Just. Anything. Anything but this awkward silence.

“Talk to me, Ryan,” Brendon said, breaking away for a moment. Dirty, he wanted to say.

“About what?” Ryan said as he tried to go back in for another kiss but Brendon ducked his head down to suck on Ryan’s neck.

“Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want to do.” Ryan could feel Brendon’s voice vibrating on his neck and he thought he might come apart.

“What, like what I want us to do right now?” said Ryan breathlessly.

“Or later or someday or whatever. Say something. Tell me a turn on of yours. Tell me one of your fantasies. Fuck, just tell me something.” Brendon nibbled on Ryan’s earlobe and realized how hard he was breathing already. He tried to calm his breathing down as he waited a few moments for Ryan to answer. Ryan was thinking hard.

“I like… I like things rough,” Ryan said slowly. Brendon snorted. “It’s true.” He bared his neck for Brendon and squeezed his eyes shut as Brendon took advantage of it, licking down to the dip in his clavicle and up to his jaw.

“So you like being the bitch,” Brendon said with a self-satisfied grin.

“No,” said Ryan, trying to sound firm but he just sounded so strained. God, Brendon loved cracking that composure.

Ryan tried again. “No. I just. I like it when it’s… I don’t know!”

“Do you like pain?” Brendon asked huskily. He bit a little harder than necessary on Ryan’s Adam’s apple. He wasn’t sure why he asked it. Brendon knew that he himself didn’t like pain, but he wanted Ryan to like it. He wanted to know that he could be rough and mean if he wanted to be and Ryan would still like it, love it, in fact.

Ryan’s breath hitched and his hands gripped the edge of the counter hard until his knuckles turned white. “Sometimes.”

Brendon kissed Ryan’s throat as means of an apology, holding onto his hips a little bit harder and liking the idea of Ryan having bruises there later. He had no idea when he turned into such a sadist.

“What about you?” Ryan said between labored breaths. “Tell me what you like, now.”

“I like…,” Brendon said, pausing for a moment to think in the middle. “God, there’s so much I like.”

“Just pick one!”

“I like that you let me do whatever shit I want with you.”

Ryan grabbed Brendon by the back of the head and mashed their lips together messily. Neither of them cared that it was sloppy and wet and off-center. Brendon couldn’t think of anything besides how good it felt to have Ryan’s tongue sliding around his mouth. Their hips gyrated together at an uneven pace and Brendon choked out a moan, his sweatpants easing lower on his hips.

“That doesn’t count,” Ryan said before gasping a little.

“Yes, it-goddamn, Ryan,” he mumbled. He could feel Ryan’s hipbones digging into his as they rubbed together, getting a little faster. Harder. Yes.

Brendon heard Ryan groan, and not in the good way, before he realized that he was shoving Ryan’s back into the hard edge of the counter. Feeling a little like a total dick, he eased off Ryan and backed up with him in tow. He grabbed Ryan by the shoulders and pushed him down on the couch. Not hard, but in a commanding way.

Ryan was looking up at him with wide eyes. Big, honey brown eyes that asked a million questions and begged for a million favors. He ran his long fingers through the part in his hair and pushed his bangs out of his face. Breathing through parted lips, he pulled himself up onto his elbows and looked at Brendon with the most vulnerable look Brendon had ever seen. Not the sort of look he would get when he was sad, spilling his soul onto paper, but the look that made him seem like he was only fifteen years old and didn’t know what to do with Brendon crawling up him. It only emboldened Brendon further.

He wanted to be the one to control Ryan. He wanted to make Ryan ask for it, beg for it. He wanted to make Ryan whine and writhe and scream until he couldn’t take it anymore, until all he could think about was Brendon.

Brendon had never been that guy. He had never been the guy that people couldn’t get out of their heads. He had never been the one with the touch that set people on fire. But, god, he wanted to be that guy to Ryan. He felt like he finally could, with Ryan. For the first time in his life, Brendon felt like he had real power over a situation.

They leaned in together with open mouths and hands shooting out for any sort of body part to take hold of. Ryan’s hands ended up on Brendon’s waist and Brendon’s found themselves on Ryan’s shoulders, almost around his neck.

Even above the bus engine, their heavy breathing hissed loudly around them. Muffled moans and panting escaped out their noses as their mouths tore at each other. When the bus was moving, they tended to let things slide.

Ryan’s body twitched when Brendon grabbed the bottom edge of Ryan’s faded, old t-shirt and started hurriedly pushing it up his body. Immediately, Ryan let go of Brendon’s waist and threw his arms above his head.

“God,” Brendon chuckled teasingly. He helped Ryan shimmy out of the shirt and dropped it on the floor beside the couch. Ryan grabbed Brendon by the collar and pulled him back down to kiss him. Brendon barely suppressed the noises he wanted to make.

His hands slid to Ryan’s waist, thumbs tracing the indents and protrusions of his hipbones, mapping out every inch of skin there. Ryan shivered. He sucked on Brendon’s tongue and Brendon’s hands went up his torso slowly. Strangely enough, this was the first time either of them had taken clothes off. Every other night, they just unzipped their jeans or reached into each other’s pajama pants. It felt weirdly intimate despite all the times that Brendon had seen Ryan completely naked. Being this close, touching him so delicately.

Ryan had soft skin for a guy. Brendon was sure that his own skin wasn’t nearly as soft. But Ryan didn’t really feel like a girl, exactly. The softness was contrasted by hard angles of his hips and ribs that were very clearly male. Brendon liked the combination. His hands skimmed over Ryan’s stomach again and again like the feeling of it was addictive.

“Tell me something else you like, Bren,” Ryan rasped. “What do you want me to do?”

Brendon didn’t even think about it before rasping out, “Suck my dick.”

Brendon’s own eyes flew open. He could not believe he just said that out loud. He had been thinking it for sure, but he felt confidence drain out of him for a second as he realized exactly what he had just said. He almost wanted to apologize and say, “I totally didn’t mean to say that,” then crawl back into his bunk and hide. Maybe die.

Ryan looked up at him, blinked, and licked his lips. “God, yes, ok.”

Brendon jerked and almost let out a surprised squeak. He gripped onto the sofa and tried not to fall off.

“Is it-really? Are you sure?” stuttered Brendon.

Ryan was nodding frantically, like this was what he had been waiting for. He and Brendon had never done more than jerk each other off before, despite all the talk the first night about all the things they wanted to try. Brendon liked to think they were just moving at a steady pace-why ruin the pleasure of a hand job by introducing a blowjob?-but it seemed like Ryan thought differently.

It was like Ryan had been waiting for Brendon to come around, say something. It confused Brendon to think of Ryan as the sort to wait for someone else’s permission on something. People asked for Ryan’s permission, not the other way around.

He felt obligated to ask again, though. “Are you positive? You don’t have to…s’okay if you don’t feel comfortable.”

Ryan shook his head hard, eyes screwed shut in his determination. Ryan wanted this. And far be it from Brendon to tell Ryan Ross no.

They maneuvered around so Ryan could get out from under Brendon and kneel on the floor. For a moment, Brendon fumbled with the choice of sitting or standing. He felt a little stupid afterwards. What did it matter? Ryan moved closer to Brendon’s parted knees, spreading them wider to fit between them, and he tried to manage a normal, comforting smile when he looked up at Brendon. All that he pulled off was a lopsided smirk that looked halfway nervous.

Ryan looked carefully down at Brendon’s sweatpants, fingers toying with the waistband as first. Feeling a little like something was missing, Brendon bent forward and kissed Ryan, one hand on his neck with his thumb stroking underneath Ryan’s ear. Slowly, Ryan slipped his fingers in past the waist of the pants and pulled them down. Brendon picked up his hips and let Ryan pull the sweatpants mid-way down his thighs. Ryan was still kissing Brendon when he reached into the waist of the boxers, fingers feeling warm, calloused, and very feminine while still being distinctly Ryan.

His mind suddenly shut down when Ryan wrapped one arm around Brendon’s middle, fingers sweeping delicately over the skin of his back and hauling Brendon closer until he was sitting on the very edge of the couch. Not a single coherent thought. Just feelings. Just sensations.

Ryan pushed up the front of Brendon’s shirt and leaned forward to kiss down his chest and stomach, the tiniest bit of suction behind each kiss. Brendon froze for a moment, slightly startled, and looked down at Ryan to ask what he was doing. But when his eyes focused through the dark, he couldn’t even manage to speak. Ryan’s eyes were softly shut, lashes dusting over his cheekbones, and his mouth moved so gently it was as if he was cherishing every inch of skin he touched, every place his lips met. He looked so calm, so relaxed. Brendon didn’t have it in him to make him stop. One of Ryan’s hands was still hooked onto the elastic of Brendon’s boxers, and Brendon knew that the end goal was still the same so he thought it stupid to complain. Instead, he slumped against the backrest of the couch and closed his eyes, trying to relax for a while as Ryan dipped his tongue into Brendon’s bellybutton, swirling it around. Brendon shivered.

“Bellybutton,” whispered Brendon thoughtfully, his eyes still closed.

“I told you,” said Ryan with a smile creeping into his voice.

Ryan moved down slowly, changing kisses into licks down the trail of fine hair underneath Brendon’s navel. All of a sudden, Brendon realized that his boxers were pushed down his hips with his sweatpants and Ryan was poised over his cock, looking up at Brendon like he was waiting for the go-ahead.

Fucking go, he wanted to say. All that came out was a gasp and, “Ry-”

Ryan’s tongue flickered out cautiously over the head and Brendon’s mouth fell open, no sound coming out, thankfully. Then Ryan lapped at him slowly, seemingly getting used to the taste, the texture, and probably the idea of having a cock in his mouth. Brendon could only clench his teeth together and try to breathe somewhat normally. Fuck, he was such a lightweight.

He looked down at Ryan, hair hanging down to cover most of his face as he slipped the tip into his mouth and sucked lightly around it. Brendon let out a strangled moan that was beaten down into more of a gargle. Tonguing the underside, Ryan tried to bob a little bit, taking Brendon in a little more each time his head bent low, and his hair grazed Brendon’s stomach each time he moved down. Without Ryan’s hand at the base to hold everything still, his mouth would slip off Brendon’s cock every so often and he would have to go hunting for it in the dark. He never took very long to find it again and Brendon didn’t mind because it mostly meant that Ryan was mouthing everywhere in that general area, and there was nothing bad about that. It was awkward and clumsy and so, so perfect that Brendon just let himself smile with his head tipped back.

Both of Ryan’s hands were on Brendon’s thighs. One was rubbing along the crease connecting leg to hip and the other was holding firmly on to the top of Brendon’s opposite thigh. As Ryan started bobbing faster with his hand rubbing around his groin in time, Brendon wanted so badly to thrust up to meet Ryan every single time. The still hand on Brendon’s thigh felt like a warning, though, so he tried his best to stay motionless.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stay quiet. His breathing was so hard, so thick, that it came out like a breathy moan every time he exhaled. All Brendon could think was, “Fuck, this feels so good. It feels so fucking good.”

Brendon put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, rubbing and massaging encouragingly and letting it move in sync with Ryan instead of his hips. When he looked back down, in the dim light he could make out the faintest image of Ryan’s mouth stretching around Brendon’s cock as he tried to go down further.

“Oh, god.” Brendon’s mouth fell open again and he didn’t even try to hold back the groan. His hips were having spasms, snapping and shaking out of control. He wanted to say it wasn’t his fault, but more than that, he wanted Ryan to just let him do it. One time, he bucked a little and Ryan’s teeth scraped against his cock. His back stiffened and he hissed loudly through his teeth.

“Sorry,” said Ryan when he’d pulled back for a moment. Brendon just shook his head and said it was fine, face still frozen in a wince. It was an honest mistake that he had kind of brought upon himself, but still, ow. It was easy to forget when Ryan licked a broad stroke up the side of his cock and tried to circle his tongue around the tip.

He got Brendon in half-way and stopped. Then he began to lift up and sucked hard, eliciting another throaty moan, and he pulled off and looked up at Brendon for a second. With his eyes barely open (but definitely not closed because, holy shit, Ryan was going down on him and he didn’t want to miss a second of this) Brendon watched Ryan flick a chunk of hair out of his eyes. It all felt like sensory overload. Ryan’s mouth just having been on his cock, now only breathing hotly over it in waves, the flutter of Ryan’s eyelashes, and the smoldering glint in Ryan’s eyes that made Brendon want even more to just drive his hips up and fuck that pretty little mouth-so much sensory overload. He felt like he could barely breathe, let alone moan. The sounds in his throat were muted before getting out in the open.

Ryan didn’t keep the eye contact long and just went back to lapping greedily at the head again, more eager this time like he felt like he was allowed to want this now. He bobbed up and down faster and hummed a little around Brendon’s cock, completely shattering Brendon’s nerves to pieces. The hand that had been rubbing near his crotch grabbed onto the base of his cock and started stroking in the same rhythm of his mouth. It made it noticeably better, in fact. Ryan stopped slipping so much and took Brendon deeper He could feel his cock beating against the back of Ryan’s throat and, oh. Brendon moaned louder and the hand still resting on Brendon’s thigh tightened.

Ryan pulled off and hissed, “Quiet.”

“I’m sorry! Have you ever gotten a blowjob and been quiet about it?” Brendon bit back.

“The guys,” whispered Ryan, ignoring Brendon’s question. He tilted his head in the direction of the bunks. Brendon couldn’t stop staring at his lips, shiny with spit and a puffy pink color. “If you don’t care about being caught, then at least be quiet to be courteous.”

“I think they’d understand if they knew,” said Brendon.

“Look,” Ryan said seriously, his hand still wrapped around Brendon’s cock, “I realize that they already know that shit’s happened between us, but I don’t really care to incur any more questions about all this, ok? This is none of their business. Please don’t make this their business again.”

The hand on Brendon’s dick was making it hard to take Ryan seriously, but Brendon noticed the irony is Ryan’s attitude. Wasn’t he the one who was okay with telling Jon and Spencer to begin with? So cool and unfazed. Bullshit.

“Sorry,” was all Brendon offered. Then he bit his lip and looked down at his cock, waiting for Ryan to continue. Ryan sighed and closed his eyes in exasperation but bent down again and took Brendon back into his mouth.

He sucked hard and Brendon just about choked on his air when he tried to inhale. He moved his hand from Ryan’s shoulder to the back of his head, trying hard not to shove Ryan down farther but failing a little. Ryan let him. He just opened his mouth wider and squeezed his eyes shut to hide how they started watering a little bit. Brendon threaded his fingers through Ryan’s hair, trying to say that he was sorry through the slow circles he was rubbing on Ryan’s head, and pushed him down a little each time. Ryan’s hair was ridiculously soft and Brendon ran his fingers through it, tugging it occasionally, as Ryan went up and down Brendon’s cock like he was fucking born to do this.

“Fucking-ah! Ryan, I think I’m about-” he sputtered. Ryan pulled off and yanked his hand fast over Brendon’s cock to finish him off, the pre-come and saliva slicking up the movements.

Brendon came with a muffled cry and his back arched so far that it hurt. He took a second to let himself ride it out and when he opened his eyes again, there was Ryan with stray streaks of come on his face. Brendon didn’t know whether to smile or apologize profusely.

Ryan let go of Brendon’s dick and reached up to wipe off the smears of white across his cheeks. He didn’t look upset, so Brendon smiled, sated, and helped him by thumbing some come off of his chin. Before he could take his hand away, Ryan caught him by the wrist and slipped the tip of his thumb into his mouth. Brendon watched and sighed heavily, almost moaning again, as Ryan sucked on his fingertip and looked up at him bravely.

“Was it everything you thought it’d be?” Ryan murmured when he let Brendon’s thumb go.

“Jesus, it was fucking amazing.” Brendon sounded breathless again, almost theatrically so. He wiped off a smear from Ryan’s jaw gently.

“You’re easy to please,” Ryan smirked. “God, my jaw hurts.”

Brendon just grinned and leaned over to kiss Ryan, who was still down on his knees, and then slipped a hand into the lanky boy’s boxers.

“So, for a guy who’s completely certain he’s not gay, you’re sure not convincing,” Brendon chuckled. Ryan looked confused for a moment, and then the light bulb flicked on-the first night.

“Are you gay, Ryan?”

“No. Not gay.”

Brendon looked at him pointedly in the eye, waiting, but Ryan shut his eyes as he shuddered and breathed unevenly. He moved back a little as Brendon moved to his knees before him, on the same level.

Brendon’s hand fitted itself around Ryan’s cock and moved slowly as Ryan pushed his hips up and mumbled something pleadingly, but Brendon couldn’t hear what he said. Still watching Ryan expectantly, the younger boy squeezed a little around Ryan’s cock and said, “How do you explain this?”

“Not gay,” Ryan rasped. “Bi-curious, maybe?”

“Bullshit, dude,” said Brendon softly. He nibbled on the edge of Ryan’s ear. God, he had already come and he still couldn’t stop touching. The boy was fucking magnetic.

“I’ve been a little curious about guys for a long time,” whispered Ryan, his head lolling to the side. “Way before you came around. So don’t think it’s because of you.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Brendon drawled into Ryan’s ear. Then he said very slowly and clearly, “Do you like guys, Ryan?”

Ryan’s breathing stuttered and Brendon’s hand tightened.

“Yes.”

Brendon yanked his hand faster and Ryan pressed his forehead onto Brendon’s shoulder, whimpering softly into the cotton of his t-shirt. He brought both hands up to rest on Brendon’s naked hips to help steady himself as Brendon’s hand slipped up and down his cock. Sporadically, Brendon would turn his hand or flick his wrist and he could feel Ryan shaking under his hand. It was a good feeling.

“I-ahh-like girls too-ooh,” Ryan clarified. “Not gay.”

Brendon squeezed his hand and whispered, “Stop putting so much weight in the word.”

“But the word means something. And what about you?” Ryan barely managed to say. He almost sounded angry. “What are you now?”

Brendon thought for the shortest moment, and the realization hit him like a lightning bolt. “My sexuality is whatever the fuck I want it to be. That’s how things should be, anyway.”

Never in his life had Brendon been so satisfied with such a simple answer to something, especially one coming from his own mouth.

He pulled Ryan through it, and when Ryan came, he grabbed Brendon by the neck and pulled him in closer to kiss him, forcing the sounds out of his own mouth and into Brendon, only for them and no one else. Then he dropped his head back down to Brendon’s shoulder and breathed. At least, he tried to breathe.

Then he whispered a little uncomfortably, “You should probably put some clothes on.”

* * *

It was purely curiosity. He just wondered about things sometimes and this happened to be one of them. Ever since Brendon left home, he’d been trying to experience things, trying to explore things. That’s how he liked to look at it.

They were at a rest stop at the Utah state line and Brendon was dying to walk around and burn off some Red Bull energy. Jon came with him on his trip to the souvenir shop and they ambled around the store, poking at the merchandise and laughing.

Brendon liked getting stuff from little souvenir shops. Mostly “stupid stuff,” as Jon called it. He preferred the term word “novelty,” thank you very much.

“There’s nothing cool about Utah,” Jon said as they sifted through the useless eight dollar knick-knacks.

“Mormonism is big in Utah,” Brendon said as-a-matter-of-factly.

“And I say again, there’s nothing cool about Utah,” Jon reiterated. “In Florida, you can get Disney shit, or in New Mexico, you can get funky little knitted coasters. What can you get in Utah?”

“Two wives,” Brendon said, following it right up with a manic giggle and Jon’s face nearly split with his grin. He opened his mouth wide laughed loudly like he was laughing from the very pit of his stomach.

The shopkeeper kept sending them grumpy, irritated looks, like the fact that Jon and Brendon had found that one of the most entertaining things in the world was just pissing him off. Maybe it was the way the two were gripping the edges of shelves to keep themselves from falling over as they laughed. The glass and porcelain figures rattled dangerously on the shelves. They were both red in the face and gasping for breath when Jon said, “I take back what I said-Utah can be cool.”

“Utah appreciates you giving it a second chance.”

Their laughter died off and Jon talked about actually buying some shit, just for that. So they went around and picked up the most ridiculous items they could find. Everything from a heart-shaped flask to vegetable-flavored candy. (”Ew,” Jon had said. Brendon bet him twenty bucks that Jon wouldn’t have the guts to eat some. Jon picked up a box and said he’d eat the whole thing for fifty.)

This was about the time that Brendon noticed a little section in the corner of the store with normal drug store toiletries. There were travel sized sticks of deodorant, packs of q-tips, and other miscellaneous necessities one would need on the road. Amongst the every-day items, Brendon spied the racks of various condoms and a row of small, plastic bottles.

Lube.

“Curiosity,” he swore to himself. And the curiosity bubbled up in his stomach, making his fingers twitch.

“JON!” he exclaimed. “Let’s go look at the condoms and shit!”

Jon laughed and followed Brendon over. While Brendon pretended to be more interested in the condoms, he tried to come up with an excuse why he would want lube. It was just a little incriminating, considering everything, but he sort of didn’t care. He had to get some. He’d steal some if he had to, damn it. That was when Brendon noticed what had to be a sign. There was strawberry-banana smoothie flavored lube.

“Oh my god, Jon,” he said as he grabbed a bottle. “It’s smoothie lube! What the hell? Who would actually care to have their lube taste like a smoothie? Let’s get some!”

“Utah’s slightly more creative than some states, it seems,” said Jon. “I guess it comes with having two wives.”

Brendon grinned and Jon grinned back. God, he loved Jon Walker. He loved that Jon Walker was never oblivious, but just knew how to politely avoid a subject even if he was suspicious.

Jon said they would only get it if Brendon swore to drink some of it once they got back on the bus. Brendon accepted. It meant Brendon got his lube. He tried to make himself look a little less suspicious by mentioning something about Audrey. He hoped Jon believed it at least a little bit.

When they brought their little armful of weird souvenirs up to the register, the shopkeeper gave them another critical look but rung everything up without a word.

“$42.67,” he said flatly. He was really annoying Brendon with his overall unpleasantness.

“You’re not a cheap date, Bren,” said Jon as he pulled out his wallet.

“Yeah, but I’m making it up to you on the bus with the lube,” Brendon said. The shopkeeper’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. For a second, Brendon wanted to clarify that, “It’s not what it sounds like.” But he kept his mouth shut and just smiled at the man innocently.

While the shopkeeper’s eyes shifted between the two, he handed them the plastic bag with their purchases.

“Have a nice stay in Utah,” he said half-heartedly.

“Oh, we will,” said Brendon as they turned. He resisted the urge to wink back at the man as they stepped out the door.

When they hopped back on the bus, Jon and Brendon announced that they had some seriously awesome shit that Ryan and Spencer needed to get a load of. Ryan got off his sidekick and paid attention.

“Let’s see it,” Spencer said. Ryan hummed in agreement. They were sitting together on the couch, Spencer with a laptop in front of him. He snapped it closed when Jon and Brendon started brandishing one item after another from the shop.

“They had some weird stuff, you guys. Like, really, it was sweet,” Brendon bubbled.

“And Brendon’s favorite being,” Jon said, digging around at the bottom of the bag, “this.”

He whipped out the lube, and when Brendon looked over at Spencer and Ryan, he suddenly got the idea that getting lube might have been a little bit stupid. Spencer’s face was tight, like he was trying to keep a sour look from his face. Ryan just looked vaguely confused.

“Strawberry-banana smoothie flavored personal lubricant,” said Jon as he read off the label.

“It’s a lube smoothie, you guys. How wicked awesome is that?”

“What the hell, Brendon?” Spencer said. Wow, Brendon felt really stupid all of a sudden.

Jon came to his aid. “I’m making him eat it.”

“Ok, maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea,” Spencer said, relaxing for just a moment. The idea of Brendon trying to down some lube was sort of amusing, and the idea was enough to distract him from sort of going off on Brendon. Because, honestly, lube?

Ryan finally piped in with, “Would ‘eating’ it really be the correct term? Is it a solid or a liquid”

“Go and take your anal retentiveness elsewhere, dude,” Jon said. “We have serious business to attend to.”

“Get your veggie candy, Jon. We’re gonna have a battle of the nasty. First one to hurl loses,” Brendon declared.

* * *

“So lube, huh?” Ryan said that evening. Brendon was eating a pop-tart in the back lounge with Spencer’s laptop perched on his criss-crossed legs.

Brendon felt like he might be blushing. “Uh, yeah.”

“Dare I ask why?” Ryan asked as he leaned against the closed door casually.

“Curiosity?” said Brendon with a shrug. “And it was freaking smoothie flavored. It just sort of… fit the theme.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“The theme in the shop.”

Ryan raised both eyebrows.

“Never mind. You had to have been there.”

“I see.” Ryan sat down next to Brendon, crossing his legs and lacing his fingers on his knee.

“You don’t need to feel weird about it, ok? I wasn’t trying to send you lame hints or anything,” said Brendon, waving a hand a little awkwardly and trying to smile reassuringly.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m not freaked out. Just wondering.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Brendon murmured a little quieter. He still found it courteous to ask permission before just blurting out a prying question, even if it was Ryan who he was asking. It was still daylight, after all.

“Of course.”

“Have you… ever…you know, tried it? On yourself?” Brendon fumbled. He looked at Ryan, pitiful and a little embarrassed, and hoped that Ryan just understood what he was trying to say. He didn’t want to actually say it out loud, and it made him feel like he was fourteen.

“Not… really,” Ryan said, equally uncomfortable. “Once. Just for a second.”

They sat in silence as Brendon thought about this for a few moments. Then Ryan cleared his throat and said, “So how did your lube taste?”

“Like… shitty cough medicine and gross lip-gloss,” Brendon said, waving his hand around. Ryan didn’t even ask how he knew what gross lip-gloss tasted like and Brendon was a little disappointed. He had a great story to go along with it and everything.

“So I guess smoothie lube wasn’t the best idea ever,” said Ryan with a smile.

“It sounded like it was, but no. Utah lost a couple coolness points for it,” replied Brendon.

“It probably deserved it,” Ryan said, nodding.

“Now, Idaho. That is where it’s at,” said Brendon. He yelled to the whole bus, “All in favor of potatoes say aye!”

Voices from the front of the bus gave a delayed and unsynchronized, “Aye!”

* * *

For the next few days, Ryan was strangely cautious around Brendon, keeping his distance and avoiding being alone with him altogether. He had taken to sticking by Spencer’s side like a Siamese twin most of the time, and Spencer didn’t seem to mind. It wouldn’t have bothered Brendon at all if Ryan was just spending more time around Spencer. But, no, Ryan was flat-out avoiding Brendon for Spencer. For what reason, Brendon had no idea. He tried to be patient and give Ryan space, hoping that was all he needed. He doubted that, though, if Ryan nestling himself into Spencer side all the time was any indication.

When Brendon snuck up to the front lounge one night, Ryan didn’t follow. After sitting around for half an hour, disappointed and sexually frustrated, he sighed heavily in defeat and jammed his hand down his pants. He kept trying to remind himself that he didn’t need Ryan.

It eventually reached the point where Brendon couldn’t take this silence anymore. It was the worst when performing, the time that Brendon’s mind went places it never did normally. Every time for the last three days when he was on stage and looked over at Ryan, he felt hungry, starving for it. For Ryan. But Ryan would never look back.

One night when they came backstage for costume changes at intermission, Brendon grabbed Ryan by the back of his collar and dragged him into an empty room in the back corner of the venue.

“What the fuck, dude?!” cried Ryan, flailing his arms around and trying to pry Brendon’s hand off.

When he threw Ryan in, he locked the door and didn’t even bother to turn on the light. He just grabbed at Ryan in the pitch black and hauled him close, nearly clinging, his fingers already finding their favorite places on Ryan’s body. Brendon felt like his body had turned into a sparkler, crackling and igniting in every place they touched.

He hated this. He hated this thing they did where they never talked about it when it got weird, like they weren’t allowed to say anything. He hated how they would just drop it all of a sudden, for nearly no reason, whenever one of them felt like it. It wasn’t like he wanted to sit down and have a real heart-to-heart concerning all of this, but, couldn’t Ryan at least stay consistent?

Ryan put up at fight at first. He pushed Brendon hard and told him quietly to stop, but Brendon wasn’t listening. He found Ryan’s face in the dark and held on with both hands so he could kiss him hard. Harder than Audrey would let him. As hard as he wanted to. Ryan kept pushing him away until Brendon rammed him against the wall. Ryan clutched his shoulders tightly and struggled a little more, though not as obstinately as before.

“Fucking quit it, already,” Ryan said in that voice he used when he was trying to sound authoritative, but Brendon knew better. “This isn’t the time.”

“Let me,” Brendon almost begged. “Please, let me.”

His hands trailed down to the zipper on Ryan’s pants, and Ryan went taut. Then his body was quivering, like he was furiously shaking his head no but didn’t have it in him to say it. Without another word, Brendon slipped down to his knees and started prying open Ryan’s pants. He shimmed them down just enough to pull out Ryan’s cock, almost completely hard already. God, he was so glad Ryan was hard. He would have felt like an idiot if he hadn’t been.

“Brendon,” Ryan said as his last attempt to stop this. When Brendon stroked up and down a few time, he wheezed, “Please.”

Brendon couldn’t have heard Ryan if he wanted to. His mind was blocking it all out, concentrated solely on this. He carefully covered his teeth and craned his neck to suck Ryan into his mouth, pressing the heels of his hands into Ryan’s hipbones and pinning him against the wall. Part of him knew he was going to be bad at this, but he went with it anyway, going down as far as he could and sucking hard. His head bumped against Ryan’s low abdomen every couple of times, and he choked once, but Brendon thought he was doing well for this first time, at least. In his mouth, Ryan’s cock felt a whole lot bigger than it ever did in his hand. He tried to remember to tell Ryan that later-he would probably like to hear that.

Ryan braced himself against the wall and ground his teeth together to try and stem the flow of harsh groaning. Brendon could hear them rumbling around in his chest like an engine even if they didn’t hit the open air, though, and he could feel his own cock springing to life.

When Ryan’s hand finally fell on Brendon’s head and tugged on his hair, Brendon resolutely kept going, trying to suck harder, faster. Broken cries of, “Bren, I’m gonna-” and, “I think I-” tumbled from Ryan’s mouth one after another, and he pulled harder on Brendon’s hair.

“Uh uh,” Brendon hummed around Ryan’s cock, shaking his head a little and dislodging Ryan’s fingers. Something in him just would not let him pull off. He had to hold on, and he wasn’t sure why. He just needed to.

Ryan’s head thunked against the wall and he bit back an escalating whine as he came in Brendon’s mouth. The taste hit Brendon tongue and a little suddenly, bitter and sharp. As Ryan slumped down the wall, practically boneless, Brendon turned his head to the side and spit, hoping he didn’t ruin anything by doing so. The taste still stayed.

Ryan was still gulping in air when Brendon reached into his own pants and rubbed himself off, spilling into his hand and over the front of his pants. When he crumpled and fell forward, his forehead bumped against Ryan’s chest and Ryan laughed a little feverishly.

“That was fucking random,” said Ryan weakly.

“No, dude. That had been coming for a while,” Brendon admitted. “Thanks to you, jackass.”

“Despite whatever vibes I was giving off before, please feel free to give into any and all random urges that you might have. I approve,” said Ryan, and they both laughed from the pits of their stomachs.

Things were back to normal, and Brendon thought it a good thing that they were already on their way to change clothes.

* * *

It was a miracle. They were actually staying in a hotel after their show in Salt Lake City. It was absolutely amazing and magical and every other good superlative word that Brendon could think of.

It always felt like a treat to be in a real hotel room; one that didn’t move or bump around all night long, with beds that were bigger than the overhead compartment on a plane and a shower bigger than a damn broom closet. There was this feeling of freedom when they stayed in a hotel. If Brendon felt like it, he could go down to the pool by himself or hang out in the lobby or wander down the halls. He could hang out with the guys any old time. Yeah, naming a few eggs or potatoes after Mortal Combat characters, putting them in the microwave, and executing Fatalities by way of combustion was a great way to spend the day but you didn’t need a hotel for that. He could have ten minutes to himself if he wanted it. And right then, he really wanted it.

Ryan and Jon had gone on a walk around the hotel and Spencer had stepped out to call his girlfriend, so Brendon was alone in the room for at least a good half hour, he estimated. Thrilled at the chance to get some solitude, he unzipped the tiny, practically hidden pouch on his suitcase and pulled out the bottle of lube from back in Utah.

He decided to barricade himself in the bathroom as a safety precaution since any of the guys could come in whenever they felt like it. He would have preferred trying this on the hotel bed, but it was safer and probably cleaner to try it in the bathroom. Locking the door then taking off his pants, he stared at the lube sitting innocently on the counter of the sink. He tried not to think about this too hard.

“Alright, then,” he said to himself as he grabbed it.

He popped open the lid on the tiny bottle and squirted some in his hand. After spreading it over his first two fingers, he rubbed his slippery digits together thoughtfully. He had heard that it was a little painful, and he wondered for a second if this was even worth attempting.

He reached behind his back before he could think about this anymore and touched there lightly, not pushing in yet. Eyes closed, he stood with his forehead against the blank, white wall and slipped one finger inside. No big deal. He hunched his back a little to reach back easier and pushed it in deeper. He moved it around a little, trying to find… something. It wasn’t like Brendon was entirely clear on the mechanics of anal sex but he was pretty sure something about this was supposed to feel good. It hardly felt like anything.

Slowly, something started to feel a little nicer. He could feel himself getting a little more comfortable as he moved his finger smoothly. He tried two fingers and inhaled through his teeth. His eyes squeezed shut he moved them slowly, trying to consciously relax his muscles. It burned a little like lacing your fingers to crack your knuckles and how the tiny muscles stretch. Still looking for something that felt good, he curled his fingers a little and breathed out shakily.

That felt good.

Bringing both lips between his teeth and biting down to keep any noise from coming out, he reached in a little deeper and curled his fingers again. He had found something. Something pretty fucking fantastic, in fact.

That was when the door do the hotel room slammed open and Brendon jumped so high that he nearly lost his balance and fell over into the bathtub.

No one was speaking, so Brendon just assumed it was Spencer who had ended his phone call a lot quicker than Brendon had anticipated. Damn it. And there was just something weird about doing this while someone was in the room, or at least nearby, because getting caught beating off is so much easier to explain to getting caught with your fingers up your own ass.

So Brendon pulled his two fingers out and washed his hands before dressing, listening to the intruder flipping through channels on the TV on the other side of the door. He didn’t even have to try to tamp down what had been the beginning of an erection.

He left the bathroom with a fake flush of the toilet to make the guy (who did turn out to be Spencer) think he was just taking a leak. He tucked the lube into his pocket and tried to pull the hem of his shirt over it to conceal the obvious outline of it in his jeans, changing out of his jeans and into athletic shorts as he greeted Spencer. Spencer was too distracted by Gilmore Girls to notice.

“What are you watching?” Brendon asked, nearly laughing. Spencer flicked the channel to something else quickly.

“Just channel surfing right now,” Spencer said easily, changing the channel every few seconds.

“Bullshit, you were totally watching the Gilmore Girls!” Brendon exclaimed. He giggled and came over to sit down on the foot of the bed next to Spencer.

“Shut up, I was not,” said Spencer, so irritated that his neck rolled with his eyes.

“Have Lorelei and Duke gotten together yet?” said Brendon, poking him.

“Luke,” Spencer said quickly, smacking Brendon’s hand.

“HA!” Brendon jumped away from him and pointed at Spencer, then threw the other arm up victoriously.

Spencer practically growled, “Hey, I don’t make fun of the fact that you watch Disney shows all the time.”

“Yeah but a Disney show isn’t a chick show, dude.”

“Kiss my ass, Urie.” Spencer turned up his nose and changed the channel back to Gilmore Girls.

* * *

Part 3