Never Stood on My Own Two Feet
Title: never stood on my own two feet
Author: heavyhart
Rating: NC-17 (warning: foot kink)
Pairing: GSF
Summary: Jon Walker has a foot fetish! Porn ensues.
Notes: 4,700 words. Written for sosodirty. Huge huge thanks to hellodolly123 and boweryd for beta'ing this for me and poking me until I actually got it done. ♥
Ryan undresses as soon as they step into the hotel room, collapsing dramatically on the bed, his boxers low on his hips.
"It wasn't that bad," Jon says from where he's getting undressed a little slower across the room, changing into a pair of shorts for the night. "Are you already asleep?"
"Not yet," Ryan mumbles, his arm thrown over his face. "Fuck, my feet are killing me," Ryan groans, sitting up and digging through his bag for some Tylenol.
"Wait, let me," Jon says, walking over to Ryan's hotel bed. "Lie back. Put your feet in my lap."
"A massage?" Ryan asks with just a trace of hope in his voice.
Jon nods, lifting one of Ryan's bare feet with his hands and pressing his thick fingers into Ryan's ankle, massaging gently. He always wants to be more careful with Ryan, as much as it would piss Ryan off to know that--Ryan's legs really are toothpicks.
"Harder," Ryan murmurs, as if hearing Jon's thoughts. Jon glances over to where Ryan's lying back on the pillows, watching Jon attentively.
Jon presses his fingers in harder like Ryan says, pushes at Ryan's instep and strokes up and down his foot with firm sweeps of his fingers, following the tendons. Ryan's toes are long and skinny, just like the rest of him, and they look nice when they curl as Jon digs his thumbs into the skin right up underneath them, working out the knots and tension in Ryan's muscles, trying to massage away the soreness.
Ryan sits up on his elbows, watching as Jon massages his feet. Jon bites his bottom lip absently and watches the movement of Ryan's toes, watches the way Ryan's foot twitches when Jon presses in at a certain spot. Jon's always loved that about giving foot massages - how responsive people are through their feet, and how sensitive certain areas are.
"You're good at this," Ryan says, voice gone quiet and eyes staring wide and dark like when he's high and he gets transfixed on something. Jon glances up at Ryan, teeth still digging into his lip, his fingers still digging into Ryan's soft feet.
"Thanks," Jon replies, his own voice a little scratchy and low, and it isn't until later, when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth, that he realizes how hard he is.
Jon leaves the water running to mask the sounds of his heavy breathing, and he jerks himself off quickly, trying not to think about why.
-
It's a few days later when Brendon stretches out on the couch, and for someone so small it's a wonder, Jon thinks, that Brendon can take up so much space. He brings his feet up and rests them in Jon's lap, on his thighs, wiggling his toes hopefully.
Jon glances down the couch at Brendon.
"Please?" Brendon smiles sweetly, waiting for Jon to say yes. Brendon's smarter than they give him credit for - he knows Jon's weakness.
Jon rolls his eyes but reaches for Brendon's feet anyway, shifting to get comfortable with them on his lap. Brendon's feet are bare and flushed slightly pink from his shower, his toenails painted green because Jon got bored one afternoon, held Brendon's feet still between his knees and painted his toes with surprising skill (Brendon asked if Jon wanted him to do his toenails too, and Jon's eyes went a little unfocused before he shook his head, standing up and leaving the room quickly).
Jon starts at the sole of Brendon's foot, underneath his toes, rubbing circles with his thumb and pressing in. Brendon lets his head drop back on the arm on the couch and moans loudly, completely unashamed. Jon smiles to himself - he loves that about Brendon, how he doesn't hold anything back.
"God, Jon, harder."
Case in point.
Jon strokes Brendon's ankle where he's holding his foot up and continues to press and rub circles, moving down Brendon's foot to his heel. Brendon gasps a little when Jon passes the spot in the center of his foot where Brendon's most ticklish, but Jon's not feeling particularly cruel this evening so he goes back to massaging Brendon's heel, kneading the skin with his knuckles.
Brendon has surprisingly nice feet, small and soft save for the slight calluses under his toes from being barefoot so often, and Jon likes rubbing his fingers over Brendon's skin. He likes the noises Brendon makes, likes the way his feet respond to Jon's touch. There's something weirdly intimate about touching Brendon's bare feet that makes Jon's breath catch - something about the way Brendon gives up control in Jon's lap, the way his small feet feel when Jon's massaging them.
"You're so good at this," Brendon breathes, his toes curling and uncurling in pleasure. He unconsciously rubs his other foot into Jon's lap and Jon freezes, biting back a groan. He's been hard since he started, but if Brendon keeps that up, Jon's going to have a lot more trouble hiding it.
"Brendon," Jon warns in a low voice, almost a growl. He looks down at Brendon and he's smiling sheepishly, face a little red. So much for trying to hide anything.
"Sorry."
Jon takes a deep breath and starts massaging each toe individually, working over the pads and letting his fingers slip and rub between them. Brendon makes tiny content noises every time Jon presses his fingers in hard, rubbing up over the backs of Brendon's toes and watching as they move in Jon's lap, Brendon's whole foot straining for Jon's touch.
"So what is it about feet?" Brendon blurts out suddenly, and Jon's hands freeze, his fingers going still on Brendon's foot.
"Brendon--"
"They're my feet you're exploiting. I deserve to know!" Jon knows that Brendon is probably just being curious like always, wanting things explained so he can understand them better. But it doesn't stop Jon from flushing dark red, called out on his creepy thing for feet.
"I can't--it's not that simple, Bren."
Brendon waits a moment before lowering his voice, staring intently at Jon. He pushes his toes into Jon's erection again, rubbing them slowly over the stiff line of his cock through his pants, and there's nothing accidental about it. "I can get you off like this. If you want."
Jon's breath hitches at the pressure on his cock from Brendon's perfect toes, teasing brushes that send sparks up his spine, but he can't. "Brendon, I can't." Even as he says it Jon unconsciously spreads his legs a little wider, and Brendon tucks one of his feet up between Jon's legs, pushing at the base of his cock while the toes of his other foot brush somewhere right under the head. Jon can feel himself leaking through his pants.
Jon swallows, repeats, "I can't," and gets up while he still has the will power to do so, leaving Brendon on the couch. He can hear Brendon call his name just as he locks himself in the bathroom, and then he can't hear anything save for the blood rushing in his ears as he jerks off, hard and fast, thinking about Brendon and his fucking toes.
-
They smoke up in the back lounge a week later, hot-boxing the small room until Zack yells, "Thanks for the contact high!" and Brendon breaks out into peals of laughter again. He's already in his underwear, didn't bother to get dressed after his shower, but no one's surprised. It's a slow and steady process - Brendon getting naked, trying to convince the rest of the them to get naked, even in a "totally straight way, c'mon." Spencer finally pulls off his shoes and socks and Brendon spends way too long trying to convince Spencer that his feet are the most amazing things ever.
"No, shut up, listen, they're like - they're like hands, you know?" Brendon says, voice low and clear as he explains it to Spencer. Ryan laughs somewhere next to Jon's shoulder and Jon laughs too, because it's funny. Even Spencer's smiling as Brendon waves his arms around trying to explain.
"Look, look, Spence." Brendon moves closer to Spencer, pressing his arm up against Spencer's side. They all direct their attention where Brendon's staring, eyes focused, down at his and Spencer's bare feet. Jon's head is warm and light but he can still feel the nervous jerk in his stomach, nervous like when he and Brendon are sharing a hotel room and Brendon shows Jon some filthy porn clip on his computer. Nervous like getting turned on in front of his friends.
"Look," Brendon says again, quieter, and he touches Spencer's bare foot with his toes. Brendon slides his toes up to Spencer's ankle, brushing over the soft hairs and skin lightly, then slides it back down to Spencer's toes. The room's gone quiet as everyone watches Brendon, the way he curls his toes experimentally around Spencer's, rubbing them together and then moving his foot to press the bottom of his and Spencer's feet together.
"Like hands," Brendon whispers, grinning, curling his toes over Spencer's again. Brendon's movements are light and slow and they can all see the way Spencer shivers from the touch of Brendon's foot against his. Jon shifts where he's sitting, already hard from watching Brendon purposefully stroke Spencer's feet. Ryan's head is heavy on Jon's shoulder and Spencer isn't smiling, just staring, transfixed, his toes curling and uncurling reflexively as Brendon touches his foot to Spencer's.
Jon didn't think - he doesn't know why, but he gets that weird feeling of intimacy again, watching Brendon rub his foot against Spencer's. Like it's something he shouldn't be allowed to see, like foreplay between his friends, like Brendon knows that it's getting Jon hard, and that's - Jon doesn't know if he should let himself be so turned on by that.
"You're hard," Ryan says, and all the attention turns to where he's leaning up against Jon.
"What?" Jon finally stops staring at Brendon's feet, the way he has one of Spencer's feet trapped between his own. He can feel everyone's gaze on him and Jon's stomach twists up in nerves again.
"It's cool," Ryan says, but before Jon can defend himself Brendon speaks up, grinning widely.
"Jon Walker has a foot fetish," Brendon declares, moving on the couch over to Jon, and as much as Jon wants to punch Brendon in the face right now, he can't help but notice the way Brendon's feet now slide over Jon's, holding Jon's foot between them and rubbing up and down. Jon's breath hitches. Brendon's playing dirty, or maybe he's too stoned to care.
Jon feels warm, his face flushed, but Spencer's leaning back on the couch watching them now, and Ryan's still pressed to Jon's side. No one seems to be freaking out, so maybe Jon doesn't have to kill Brendon after all.
"You think feet are hot?" Ryan asks, and Jon has to find his voice before he answers, distracted by the movement of skin-on-skin, the way Brendon leans closer next to Jon and digs his toes into the sensitive skin of the sole of Jon's foot.
"No, it's just--" Jon cuts off, closing his eyes for a second when Brendon brushes his warm toes lightly across Jon's toes. "I'm not grossed out by them."
"Obviously," Brendon murmurs, his arm brushing over Jon's straining erection. Jon's hips jerk but he doesn't get up and leave this time, just stays still and breathes slowly. If no one else is going to make a big deal out of it, then Jon can be okay with this. It's not like Brendon hasn't told them all about his thing for getting fingered, like Ryan doesn't have a thing for getting choked.
"Hey, now that--will you let me get you off with my feet now?"
"What?" Spencer finally speaks up, and Jon doesn't know if it's a good sign or a bad sign that Spencer's cheeks are at least half as pink as Jon's.
"I think the word is 'footjob,'" Ryan adds helpfully, and Brendon laughs again, the noise still clear and relaxed.
"Feet are just like hands, Spencer. Like, how you pick up rocks with your toes? Only instead of rocks it's Jon's dick."
"Oh my god," Jon mumbles, sinking down into the couch a little. He wishes they had more weed on hand, because already the embarrassment of the situation is weighing down on his high. Ryan is completely unsympathetic, snickering helplessly into Jon's shoulder as Brendon explains exactly what he means to Spencer with even more extravagant hand gestures, and Spencer just wrinkles his nose and looks generally confused.
"I still don't get how that would work."
"You're an idiot. Take off your pants, I'll show you--"
"Whoa, keep your feet away from my dick, you sick--"
"Brendon," Jon says quickly, wondering when the hell this conversation got away from him. "You don't have to. Just. Let it go, okay?"
"No."
Jon blinks at Brendon. "What?"
"No, I'm not letting it go." Brendon has a dark, determined look in his eyes and Jon wonders how much of his high has worn off too. "You're still hard. So is Ryan."
"Hey, fuck you--"
"And Spence probably is too, or he will be." Spencer clears his throat pointedly but Brendon doesn't turn around, instead leaning in closer to Jon's face.
"And you?"
"I'm always ready to go, baby," Brendon purrs, shifting into Jon's lap. His legs still hang down and he rubs his feet up Jon's calves, leaning in slowly to press a kiss to the corner of Jon's mouth.
The room is quiet and Jon doesn't let himself over-think it as Brendon kisses him, their lips moving together slowly. It's not new - they've all kissed each other at one point or another - but it's less lazy affection and more building up to something bigger, something hotter and more urgent than stoned make-outs. Brendon makes a noise against Jon's mouth and when he pulls away Jon can feel the way Spencer and Ryan are watching them.
"Uh."
"Are you guys just going to--"
"I don't mind," Ryan cuts Spencer off, staring at Jon with warm eyes. "I wanna see Brendon do it."
Brendon smiles and leans over quickly so he can press his lips to Ryan's, kissing him hard, just for a second, and then settling back into Jon's lap. Jon narrows his eyes when Brendon looks back down at him and realizes that they planned this together.
"You little shits," Jon says, voice laced with accusation, and Brendon tilts his head back and laughs. Jon just wants to bite his neck. He settles for licking his lips, glancing over at Spencer. Spencer's moved closer, meeting Jon's eyes and shrugging, cheeks still pink, and Jon figures that's as much as Spencer's going to give him.
Jon opens his mouth to give Brendon whatever sort of permission he needs but Brendon's already moving out of Jon's lap, sliding back down onto the couch between Jon and Spencer and turning slightly to face Jon.
"Jon, take off your pants."
Jon raises his eyebrows at Brendon.
Brendon huffs. "My toes aren't that talented."
Ryan leans into Jon's shoulder again and laughs, still giddy from the weed, his body warm against Jon's. Brendon bends his knees and places his bare feet on the couch, poking Jon's thigh expectantly, and Jon sucks in a quick breath and pushes his pants down his legs. He hesitates for a second but Brendon's there to coax him, "C'mon, c'mon," and Jon kicks his pants off entirely, pulling off his shirt next because he feels weird only being naked from the waist down.
Brendon makes a pleased noise, his toes creeping up to touch Jon's cock lightly where it rests in his lap, flushed and hard, to no one's surprise. Jon gasps, a little taken aback and a whole lot turned the fuck on, and when he looks over at Brendon's grinning face, he catches how intently Spencer's watching him over Brendon's shoulder, staring down where Brendon's toes are brushing softly back and forth over Jon's length. And, fuck. The fact that he's being watched turns Jon on even more than it should.
"Bren, you can't, that's--" Jon's cock jerks disobediently and he glares at his lap for being so easy. Ryan snorts out a laugh, reaching down to wrap his long fingers around the base of Jon's cock.
Jon bites back a groan, tilting his head back and looking at Ryan with heated eyes. "Fuck, what, you too?"
Ryan rolls his eyes and leans down, and his breath is hot against Jon's skin when he says, "Gotta get you wet first."
Jon swallows, licking his own dry lips and staring with wide eyes as Ryan gets his tongue wet with spit and licks up Jon's cock, from the base to the tip. Jon breathes hard through his nose and digs his fingers into his palms. His hips jerk when Ryan's tongue slides up under the sensitive head, but Brendon uses his feet to keep Jon's hips from bucking up and choking Ryan, pressing his toes hard into Jon's bare skin.
"Be good," Brendon says in a low voice, and Jon can hear Spencer snicker. He shoots Spencer a glance, breathing out a quick, "Shut up," just as Ryan pulls off. Jon's cock is shiny and wet and just as Jon opens his mouth to say thanks, or something equally stupid considering Ryan's mouth was just on his cock, Ryan's leaning over to Brendon's feet, running his tongue along the inside arch of Brendon's foot, leaving a wet trail of spit behind.
Brendon goes still and Jon can feel it, watching as Ryan's pink tongue slides over the pale skin of Brendon's foot, moving to the other, getting them wet. Jon knows why, knows what Brendon's going to be doing with his feet in a second, but it still makes the want burn low in his stomach. He wants to be in Ryan's position, to know how soft Brendon's feet feel under his mouth, for Brendon to go still for him, toes curling gently. Jon's cock twitches again and Ryan huffs out a laugh, sitting up and reaching for a water bottle.
"Your turn," Ryan says to Brendon, and Brendon leans back into Spencer, biting his lip and moving his feet to touch Jon's cock, still wet where Ryan's spit is cooling on it. Jon steals another glance at Spencer and Spencer's still watching, gaze hot and patient, and Jon shudders. He's naked but he isn't cold, not when the back lounge is warm from smoke and summer heat, but his hands are still shaking when he touches Brendon's ankles.
Brendon carefully rests his heels on Jon's thigh and uses the inside arches of his feet to get a grip around Jon's cock and angle it up so it rests against his belly, stiff and flushed dark, wet from Ryan's tongue. Jon rubs his fingers over Brendon's skin and they all watch as Brendon slides his feet up and down, slowly, pressing his feet together just enough for it to become a teasing friction that makes Jon shift where he's sitting.
Jon squeezes Brendon's ankle, says, "Fuck," in a hoarse voice when Brendon rubs the pad of his big toe over the head of Jon's cock, spreading pre-come from the slit and getting his toe sticky with it.
"Is this okay?" Brendon asks, sliding his toes down Jon's cock until they're pressed firmly at the base, the toes of his other foot moving gently up under Jon's balls. It doesn't feel that much different from fingers, Jon knows, maybe just blunter and with harder calluses from how often Brendon's barefoot, but the fact that Brendon's really doing this for him - getting Jon off with his feet - just makes his cock throb impatiently.
"Yeah, fuck, just." Jon bites his lip, afraid to let himself keep talking, afraid of what he'll ask Brendon to do. "Don't stop."
"Seriously," Ryan mumbles in agreement, unbuttoning his own pants so he can shove his hand down into his underwear unceremoniously, curling his long fingers around his erection and shuddering next to Jon. Jon doesn't blame him, and apparently Brendon and Spencer don't, either, not when they're too busy watching Jon's lap to notice the movement of Ryan's hand, slowing fisting his cock.
Jon moves his own fingers up Brendon's calves, brushing over the soft, dark hairs on his legs, and Brendon rubs his toe, still sticky with pre-come, down between Jon's thighs, over the sensitive skin right before the crease of his ass. Jon's breath hitches, spreading his legs wider for Brendon. Brendon's other foot is still pressed gently to Jon's cock, and Brendon hesitates before he says, "I, uh. I googled some stuff, and so. Can I try--?"
Jon nods quickly. Brendon can try anything, Jon doesn't care, he could probably come eventually just from the way Brendon's toes press down at the skin below Jon's balls.
Brendon brings the foot between Jon's legs back up to rest on his thigh, rubbing his toes over Jon's cock while he spreads his big toe and pointer toe, making a gap that he can fit the swollen head of Jon's cock between, stroking up and down experimentally, his eyes paying more attention to Jon's reaction than his own feet.
They're all breathing loudly, the rustling and sliding noises interrupted when Spencer says, "Jesus christ, Ryan," finally noticing the way Ryan's hand is moving over his cock. At some point he shoved his pants down his thighs and Jon steals a glance at Ryan's cock, the long curve of it as it slides through the circle of Ryan's fist.
"Fuck off, it's hot," is all Ryan says, and Jon opens his mouth to say something too but Brendon presses harder, toes wiggling as he rubs them over Jon's cock, and the only sound Jon makes is a choked-off moan. Brendon moves his feet faster, sensing how close Jon is.
"Spence," Brendon whines a second later, dropping his head back onto Spencer's shoulder, eyes still on Jon's lap. "Touch me, Spence, your hand. Please."
"Seriously?" Jon knows when Spencer sounds turned on, though - knows it from so many nights sharing a hotel room with him, from walking out of the bathroom to Spencer unnaturally still in his bed, or just in his bunk, trying to finish jerking himself off without Jon realizing it.
"No, I was just kidding. Fuck you, yes I want you to jerk me off," Brendon huffs out in a rush, squirming back up against Spencer. Spencer laughs, reaching into Brendon's underwear where his cock had already been straining against the material, hard and leaking and rubbing against thin fabric as Brendon moved his hips. Spencer tightens his fingers around Brendon and his hips buck, toes squeezing around Jon's cock.
Jon digs his fingers into Brendon's ankles as his orgasm builds, the friction from Brendon's feet just enough to get him there - that, paired with the way Jon can see his own pre-come shining over the skin of Brendon's toes, the way they look as flushed as Brendon's cheeks do now. It's not easy, but Jon gasps and forces himself to keep his eyes open when he comes, watching the way Brendon coaxes the spurts of come from Jon's cock, the way it slides wetly down over Brendon's toes and his feet.
"Fuck, fuck," Brendon moans, head pushed back hard into Spencer's arm, and with Jon's come just drying on Brendon's toes, he comes with a shout over Spencer's fist.
Brendon's feet jerk in Jon's lap, toes curling and uncurling as he comes down from his orgasm, trying to catch his breath. Before Jon or Brendon can recover enough to move, Ryan's leaning down again, hand gone still over his own aching cock as he licks the come off Brendon's toes, tongue slipping wetly between them and over the sensitive skin of Jon's cock.
"Fucking, Jon, you guys--" Brendon gasps out, squirming as the touch of Ryan's warm tongue to his feet.
"I can't believe you actually--with your feet, Brendon--"
Jon laughs, and it feels good, light and happy after his orgasm. Ryan sits up, licks his lips where come sticks to the corners, and Jon's cock jerks unsympathetically.
"Your turn," Brendon says, turning around to face Spencer on the couch, and without giving it much thought Jon gets onto his knees on the carpeted floor, shuffling over to Spencer and bowing his head down to press a kiss to the top of Spencer's foot.
"Jon?" Spencer asks, voice gone quiet and rough, and when Jon looks up he can see Brendon working Spencer's pants open with shaky, eager hands.
"This okay?" Jon asks, licking a stripe up to Spencer's ankle. His skin tastes sweet, like lotion or soap, but mostly it tastes like skin and Jon can feel his cock starting to get hard again.
"It feels so good, Spence, fuck." Brendon holds the base of Spencer's cock and starts to suck, sinking his mouth down over Spencer and bobbing his head. Jon thinks Brendon looks way too comfortable sucking cock, and when he glances back at Ryan he gets a dark grin, Ryan's hand still jerking himself off, watching the three of them.
Jon keeps watching Spencer until he finally hears the soft, "Yeah, yes," and then he pulls Spencer's feet into his lap, thumbs digging into the muscle of Spencer's lower ankles as Jon leans down and licks Spencer's toes wet.
Spencer can't keep still, feet jerking in Jon's grip as soon as Jon starts to suck around Spencer's toe with the same rhythm Brendon sucks Spencer's cock, but whenever Spencer's feet twitch, Jon just scrapes his teeth lightly over the skin of Spencer's toes, smiling at the surprised gasp he gets in return.
Ryan's not one to be left out for long, and Jon can hear it more than see it when Ryan moves over next to Spencer, curling up to his friend's side, hand still working hard over himself.
"Ryan," Spencer moans, finally starting to sound undone the way Jon wants him to, the way he's been waiting for. Jon absently reaches down between his own legs and starts jerking himself off, scraping his teeth over the sensitive bottom of Spencer's foot, in the center where ticklish can easily turn into arousal.
"Spence, fuck, look at them."
Jon hears Ryan's low voice and imagines that they do, that they are looking at him, and even as he has his mouth on Spencer's foot, hand curled around his own cock, it's the fact that they're seeing how much he loves this that makes Jon flush hotly.
Spencer doesn't last long, not with whatever Brendon's doing with his mouth (and fuck, they are definitely going to have to do this again, because Brendon's mouth). Spencer's moan is muffled, and it's as Jon sucks on Spencer's skin, imagining Ryan's lips pressed hard to Spencer's, that Jon comes a second time, his orgasm sharper with just the smallest edge of pain, of toomuchtoosoon. Jon bites Spencer's skin and strokes himself through it, and when slender, wet fingers brush over Jon's cheek, Jon assumes Ryan's finally come too.
Jon looks up, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, and all three of them are staring back at him. Brendon's mouth is red, red and swollen and his hair is sticking up like Spencer had been pulling at it. Spencer looks wild, looks sleepy and satisfied, and Ryan's eyes are heavy and dark. They're the three most attractive people Jon knows and he isn't sure what he's supposed to say after this, so he's glad when Ryan reaches down and pulls Jon up to the couch with them.
It's not exactly comfortable, sitting so close together when they're all sticky and messy and too warm, but then Ryan leans his head on Jon's shoulder and says, "Dude, next time, just ask."
Jon smiles to himself at the words "next time" and thinks, yeah, I guess I will.
Author: heavyhart
Rating: NC-17 (warning: foot kink)
Pairing: GSF
Summary: Jon Walker has a foot fetish! Porn ensues.
Notes: 4,700 words. Written for sosodirty. Huge huge thanks to hellodolly123 and boweryd for beta'ing this for me and poking me until I actually got it done. ♥
Ryan undresses as soon as they step into the hotel room, collapsing dramatically on the bed, his boxers low on his hips.
"It wasn't that bad," Jon says from where he's getting undressed a little slower across the room, changing into a pair of shorts for the night. "Are you already asleep?"
"Not yet," Ryan mumbles, his arm thrown over his face. "Fuck, my feet are killing me," Ryan groans, sitting up and digging through his bag for some Tylenol.
"Wait, let me," Jon says, walking over to Ryan's hotel bed. "Lie back. Put your feet in my lap."
"A massage?" Ryan asks with just a trace of hope in his voice.
Jon nods, lifting one of Ryan's bare feet with his hands and pressing his thick fingers into Ryan's ankle, massaging gently. He always wants to be more careful with Ryan, as much as it would piss Ryan off to know that--Ryan's legs really are toothpicks.
"Harder," Ryan murmurs, as if hearing Jon's thoughts. Jon glances over to where Ryan's lying back on the pillows, watching Jon attentively.
Jon presses his fingers in harder like Ryan says, pushes at Ryan's instep and strokes up and down his foot with firm sweeps of his fingers, following the tendons. Ryan's toes are long and skinny, just like the rest of him, and they look nice when they curl as Jon digs his thumbs into the skin right up underneath them, working out the knots and tension in Ryan's muscles, trying to massage away the soreness.
Ryan sits up on his elbows, watching as Jon massages his feet. Jon bites his bottom lip absently and watches the movement of Ryan's toes, watches the way Ryan's foot twitches when Jon presses in at a certain spot. Jon's always loved that about giving foot massages - how responsive people are through their feet, and how sensitive certain areas are.
"You're good at this," Ryan says, voice gone quiet and eyes staring wide and dark like when he's high and he gets transfixed on something. Jon glances up at Ryan, teeth still digging into his lip, his fingers still digging into Ryan's soft feet.
"Thanks," Jon replies, his own voice a little scratchy and low, and it isn't until later, when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth, that he realizes how hard he is.
Jon leaves the water running to mask the sounds of his heavy breathing, and he jerks himself off quickly, trying not to think about why.
-
It's a few days later when Brendon stretches out on the couch, and for someone so small it's a wonder, Jon thinks, that Brendon can take up so much space. He brings his feet up and rests them in Jon's lap, on his thighs, wiggling his toes hopefully.
Jon glances down the couch at Brendon.
"Please?" Brendon smiles sweetly, waiting for Jon to say yes. Brendon's smarter than they give him credit for - he knows Jon's weakness.
Jon rolls his eyes but reaches for Brendon's feet anyway, shifting to get comfortable with them on his lap. Brendon's feet are bare and flushed slightly pink from his shower, his toenails painted green because Jon got bored one afternoon, held Brendon's feet still between his knees and painted his toes with surprising skill (Brendon asked if Jon wanted him to do his toenails too, and Jon's eyes went a little unfocused before he shook his head, standing up and leaving the room quickly).
Jon starts at the sole of Brendon's foot, underneath his toes, rubbing circles with his thumb and pressing in. Brendon lets his head drop back on the arm on the couch and moans loudly, completely unashamed. Jon smiles to himself - he loves that about Brendon, how he doesn't hold anything back.
"God, Jon, harder."
Case in point.
Jon strokes Brendon's ankle where he's holding his foot up and continues to press and rub circles, moving down Brendon's foot to his heel. Brendon gasps a little when Jon passes the spot in the center of his foot where Brendon's most ticklish, but Jon's not feeling particularly cruel this evening so he goes back to massaging Brendon's heel, kneading the skin with his knuckles.
Brendon has surprisingly nice feet, small and soft save for the slight calluses under his toes from being barefoot so often, and Jon likes rubbing his fingers over Brendon's skin. He likes the noises Brendon makes, likes the way his feet respond to Jon's touch. There's something weirdly intimate about touching Brendon's bare feet that makes Jon's breath catch - something about the way Brendon gives up control in Jon's lap, the way his small feet feel when Jon's massaging them.
"You're so good at this," Brendon breathes, his toes curling and uncurling in pleasure. He unconsciously rubs his other foot into Jon's lap and Jon freezes, biting back a groan. He's been hard since he started, but if Brendon keeps that up, Jon's going to have a lot more trouble hiding it.
"Brendon," Jon warns in a low voice, almost a growl. He looks down at Brendon and he's smiling sheepishly, face a little red. So much for trying to hide anything.
"Sorry."
Jon takes a deep breath and starts massaging each toe individually, working over the pads and letting his fingers slip and rub between them. Brendon makes tiny content noises every time Jon presses his fingers in hard, rubbing up over the backs of Brendon's toes and watching as they move in Jon's lap, Brendon's whole foot straining for Jon's touch.
"So what is it about feet?" Brendon blurts out suddenly, and Jon's hands freeze, his fingers going still on Brendon's foot.
"Brendon--"
"They're my feet you're exploiting. I deserve to know!" Jon knows that Brendon is probably just being curious like always, wanting things explained so he can understand them better. But it doesn't stop Jon from flushing dark red, called out on his creepy thing for feet.
"I can't--it's not that simple, Bren."
Brendon waits a moment before lowering his voice, staring intently at Jon. He pushes his toes into Jon's erection again, rubbing them slowly over the stiff line of his cock through his pants, and there's nothing accidental about it. "I can get you off like this. If you want."
Jon's breath hitches at the pressure on his cock from Brendon's perfect toes, teasing brushes that send sparks up his spine, but he can't. "Brendon, I can't." Even as he says it Jon unconsciously spreads his legs a little wider, and Brendon tucks one of his feet up between Jon's legs, pushing at the base of his cock while the toes of his other foot brush somewhere right under the head. Jon can feel himself leaking through his pants.
Jon swallows, repeats, "I can't," and gets up while he still has the will power to do so, leaving Brendon on the couch. He can hear Brendon call his name just as he locks himself in the bathroom, and then he can't hear anything save for the blood rushing in his ears as he jerks off, hard and fast, thinking about Brendon and his fucking toes.
-
They smoke up in the back lounge a week later, hot-boxing the small room until Zack yells, "Thanks for the contact high!" and Brendon breaks out into peals of laughter again. He's already in his underwear, didn't bother to get dressed after his shower, but no one's surprised. It's a slow and steady process - Brendon getting naked, trying to convince the rest of the them to get naked, even in a "totally straight way, c'mon." Spencer finally pulls off his shoes and socks and Brendon spends way too long trying to convince Spencer that his feet are the most amazing things ever.
"No, shut up, listen, they're like - they're like hands, you know?" Brendon says, voice low and clear as he explains it to Spencer. Ryan laughs somewhere next to Jon's shoulder and Jon laughs too, because it's funny. Even Spencer's smiling as Brendon waves his arms around trying to explain.
"Look, look, Spence." Brendon moves closer to Spencer, pressing his arm up against Spencer's side. They all direct their attention where Brendon's staring, eyes focused, down at his and Spencer's bare feet. Jon's head is warm and light but he can still feel the nervous jerk in his stomach, nervous like when he and Brendon are sharing a hotel room and Brendon shows Jon some filthy porn clip on his computer. Nervous like getting turned on in front of his friends.
"Look," Brendon says again, quieter, and he touches Spencer's bare foot with his toes. Brendon slides his toes up to Spencer's ankle, brushing over the soft hairs and skin lightly, then slides it back down to Spencer's toes. The room's gone quiet as everyone watches Brendon, the way he curls his toes experimentally around Spencer's, rubbing them together and then moving his foot to press the bottom of his and Spencer's feet together.
"Like hands," Brendon whispers, grinning, curling his toes over Spencer's again. Brendon's movements are light and slow and they can all see the way Spencer shivers from the touch of Brendon's foot against his. Jon shifts where he's sitting, already hard from watching Brendon purposefully stroke Spencer's feet. Ryan's head is heavy on Jon's shoulder and Spencer isn't smiling, just staring, transfixed, his toes curling and uncurling reflexively as Brendon touches his foot to Spencer's.
Jon didn't think - he doesn't know why, but he gets that weird feeling of intimacy again, watching Brendon rub his foot against Spencer's. Like it's something he shouldn't be allowed to see, like foreplay between his friends, like Brendon knows that it's getting Jon hard, and that's - Jon doesn't know if he should let himself be so turned on by that.
"You're hard," Ryan says, and all the attention turns to where he's leaning up against Jon.
"What?" Jon finally stops staring at Brendon's feet, the way he has one of Spencer's feet trapped between his own. He can feel everyone's gaze on him and Jon's stomach twists up in nerves again.
"It's cool," Ryan says, but before Jon can defend himself Brendon speaks up, grinning widely.
"Jon Walker has a foot fetish," Brendon declares, moving on the couch over to Jon, and as much as Jon wants to punch Brendon in the face right now, he can't help but notice the way Brendon's feet now slide over Jon's, holding Jon's foot between them and rubbing up and down. Jon's breath hitches. Brendon's playing dirty, or maybe he's too stoned to care.
Jon feels warm, his face flushed, but Spencer's leaning back on the couch watching them now, and Ryan's still pressed to Jon's side. No one seems to be freaking out, so maybe Jon doesn't have to kill Brendon after all.
"You think feet are hot?" Ryan asks, and Jon has to find his voice before he answers, distracted by the movement of skin-on-skin, the way Brendon leans closer next to Jon and digs his toes into the sensitive skin of the sole of Jon's foot.
"No, it's just--" Jon cuts off, closing his eyes for a second when Brendon brushes his warm toes lightly across Jon's toes. "I'm not grossed out by them."
"Obviously," Brendon murmurs, his arm brushing over Jon's straining erection. Jon's hips jerk but he doesn't get up and leave this time, just stays still and breathes slowly. If no one else is going to make a big deal out of it, then Jon can be okay with this. It's not like Brendon hasn't told them all about his thing for getting fingered, like Ryan doesn't have a thing for getting choked.
"Hey, now that--will you let me get you off with my feet now?"
"What?" Spencer finally speaks up, and Jon doesn't know if it's a good sign or a bad sign that Spencer's cheeks are at least half as pink as Jon's.
"I think the word is 'footjob,'" Ryan adds helpfully, and Brendon laughs again, the noise still clear and relaxed.
"Feet are just like hands, Spencer. Like, how you pick up rocks with your toes? Only instead of rocks it's Jon's dick."
"Oh my god," Jon mumbles, sinking down into the couch a little. He wishes they had more weed on hand, because already the embarrassment of the situation is weighing down on his high. Ryan is completely unsympathetic, snickering helplessly into Jon's shoulder as Brendon explains exactly what he means to Spencer with even more extravagant hand gestures, and Spencer just wrinkles his nose and looks generally confused.
"I still don't get how that would work."
"You're an idiot. Take off your pants, I'll show you--"
"Whoa, keep your feet away from my dick, you sick--"
"Brendon," Jon says quickly, wondering when the hell this conversation got away from him. "You don't have to. Just. Let it go, okay?"
"No."
Jon blinks at Brendon. "What?"
"No, I'm not letting it go." Brendon has a dark, determined look in his eyes and Jon wonders how much of his high has worn off too. "You're still hard. So is Ryan."
"Hey, fuck you--"
"And Spence probably is too, or he will be." Spencer clears his throat pointedly but Brendon doesn't turn around, instead leaning in closer to Jon's face.
"And you?"
"I'm always ready to go, baby," Brendon purrs, shifting into Jon's lap. His legs still hang down and he rubs his feet up Jon's calves, leaning in slowly to press a kiss to the corner of Jon's mouth.
The room is quiet and Jon doesn't let himself over-think it as Brendon kisses him, their lips moving together slowly. It's not new - they've all kissed each other at one point or another - but it's less lazy affection and more building up to something bigger, something hotter and more urgent than stoned make-outs. Brendon makes a noise against Jon's mouth and when he pulls away Jon can feel the way Spencer and Ryan are watching them.
"Uh."
"Are you guys just going to--"
"I don't mind," Ryan cuts Spencer off, staring at Jon with warm eyes. "I wanna see Brendon do it."
Brendon smiles and leans over quickly so he can press his lips to Ryan's, kissing him hard, just for a second, and then settling back into Jon's lap. Jon narrows his eyes when Brendon looks back down at him and realizes that they planned this together.
"You little shits," Jon says, voice laced with accusation, and Brendon tilts his head back and laughs. Jon just wants to bite his neck. He settles for licking his lips, glancing over at Spencer. Spencer's moved closer, meeting Jon's eyes and shrugging, cheeks still pink, and Jon figures that's as much as Spencer's going to give him.
Jon opens his mouth to give Brendon whatever sort of permission he needs but Brendon's already moving out of Jon's lap, sliding back down onto the couch between Jon and Spencer and turning slightly to face Jon.
"Jon, take off your pants."
Jon raises his eyebrows at Brendon.
Brendon huffs. "My toes aren't that talented."
Ryan leans into Jon's shoulder again and laughs, still giddy from the weed, his body warm against Jon's. Brendon bends his knees and places his bare feet on the couch, poking Jon's thigh expectantly, and Jon sucks in a quick breath and pushes his pants down his legs. He hesitates for a second but Brendon's there to coax him, "C'mon, c'mon," and Jon kicks his pants off entirely, pulling off his shirt next because he feels weird only being naked from the waist down.
Brendon makes a pleased noise, his toes creeping up to touch Jon's cock lightly where it rests in his lap, flushed and hard, to no one's surprise. Jon gasps, a little taken aback and a whole lot turned the fuck on, and when he looks over at Brendon's grinning face, he catches how intently Spencer's watching him over Brendon's shoulder, staring down where Brendon's toes are brushing softly back and forth over Jon's length. And, fuck. The fact that he's being watched turns Jon on even more than it should.
"Bren, you can't, that's--" Jon's cock jerks disobediently and he glares at his lap for being so easy. Ryan snorts out a laugh, reaching down to wrap his long fingers around the base of Jon's cock.
Jon bites back a groan, tilting his head back and looking at Ryan with heated eyes. "Fuck, what, you too?"
Ryan rolls his eyes and leans down, and his breath is hot against Jon's skin when he says, "Gotta get you wet first."
Jon swallows, licking his own dry lips and staring with wide eyes as Ryan gets his tongue wet with spit and licks up Jon's cock, from the base to the tip. Jon breathes hard through his nose and digs his fingers into his palms. His hips jerk when Ryan's tongue slides up under the sensitive head, but Brendon uses his feet to keep Jon's hips from bucking up and choking Ryan, pressing his toes hard into Jon's bare skin.
"Be good," Brendon says in a low voice, and Jon can hear Spencer snicker. He shoots Spencer a glance, breathing out a quick, "Shut up," just as Ryan pulls off. Jon's cock is shiny and wet and just as Jon opens his mouth to say thanks, or something equally stupid considering Ryan's mouth was just on his cock, Ryan's leaning over to Brendon's feet, running his tongue along the inside arch of Brendon's foot, leaving a wet trail of spit behind.
Brendon goes still and Jon can feel it, watching as Ryan's pink tongue slides over the pale skin of Brendon's foot, moving to the other, getting them wet. Jon knows why, knows what Brendon's going to be doing with his feet in a second, but it still makes the want burn low in his stomach. He wants to be in Ryan's position, to know how soft Brendon's feet feel under his mouth, for Brendon to go still for him, toes curling gently. Jon's cock twitches again and Ryan huffs out a laugh, sitting up and reaching for a water bottle.
"Your turn," Ryan says to Brendon, and Brendon leans back into Spencer, biting his lip and moving his feet to touch Jon's cock, still wet where Ryan's spit is cooling on it. Jon steals another glance at Spencer and Spencer's still watching, gaze hot and patient, and Jon shudders. He's naked but he isn't cold, not when the back lounge is warm from smoke and summer heat, but his hands are still shaking when he touches Brendon's ankles.
Brendon carefully rests his heels on Jon's thigh and uses the inside arches of his feet to get a grip around Jon's cock and angle it up so it rests against his belly, stiff and flushed dark, wet from Ryan's tongue. Jon rubs his fingers over Brendon's skin and they all watch as Brendon slides his feet up and down, slowly, pressing his feet together just enough for it to become a teasing friction that makes Jon shift where he's sitting.
Jon squeezes Brendon's ankle, says, "Fuck," in a hoarse voice when Brendon rubs the pad of his big toe over the head of Jon's cock, spreading pre-come from the slit and getting his toe sticky with it.
"Is this okay?" Brendon asks, sliding his toes down Jon's cock until they're pressed firmly at the base, the toes of his other foot moving gently up under Jon's balls. It doesn't feel that much different from fingers, Jon knows, maybe just blunter and with harder calluses from how often Brendon's barefoot, but the fact that Brendon's really doing this for him - getting Jon off with his feet - just makes his cock throb impatiently.
"Yeah, fuck, just." Jon bites his lip, afraid to let himself keep talking, afraid of what he'll ask Brendon to do. "Don't stop."
"Seriously," Ryan mumbles in agreement, unbuttoning his own pants so he can shove his hand down into his underwear unceremoniously, curling his long fingers around his erection and shuddering next to Jon. Jon doesn't blame him, and apparently Brendon and Spencer don't, either, not when they're too busy watching Jon's lap to notice the movement of Ryan's hand, slowing fisting his cock.
Jon moves his own fingers up Brendon's calves, brushing over the soft, dark hairs on his legs, and Brendon rubs his toe, still sticky with pre-come, down between Jon's thighs, over the sensitive skin right before the crease of his ass. Jon's breath hitches, spreading his legs wider for Brendon. Brendon's other foot is still pressed gently to Jon's cock, and Brendon hesitates before he says, "I, uh. I googled some stuff, and so. Can I try--?"
Jon nods quickly. Brendon can try anything, Jon doesn't care, he could probably come eventually just from the way Brendon's toes press down at the skin below Jon's balls.
Brendon brings the foot between Jon's legs back up to rest on his thigh, rubbing his toes over Jon's cock while he spreads his big toe and pointer toe, making a gap that he can fit the swollen head of Jon's cock between, stroking up and down experimentally, his eyes paying more attention to Jon's reaction than his own feet.
They're all breathing loudly, the rustling and sliding noises interrupted when Spencer says, "Jesus christ, Ryan," finally noticing the way Ryan's hand is moving over his cock. At some point he shoved his pants down his thighs and Jon steals a glance at Ryan's cock, the long curve of it as it slides through the circle of Ryan's fist.
"Fuck off, it's hot," is all Ryan says, and Jon opens his mouth to say something too but Brendon presses harder, toes wiggling as he rubs them over Jon's cock, and the only sound Jon makes is a choked-off moan. Brendon moves his feet faster, sensing how close Jon is.
"Spence," Brendon whines a second later, dropping his head back onto Spencer's shoulder, eyes still on Jon's lap. "Touch me, Spence, your hand. Please."
"Seriously?" Jon knows when Spencer sounds turned on, though - knows it from so many nights sharing a hotel room with him, from walking out of the bathroom to Spencer unnaturally still in his bed, or just in his bunk, trying to finish jerking himself off without Jon realizing it.
"No, I was just kidding. Fuck you, yes I want you to jerk me off," Brendon huffs out in a rush, squirming back up against Spencer. Spencer laughs, reaching into Brendon's underwear where his cock had already been straining against the material, hard and leaking and rubbing against thin fabric as Brendon moved his hips. Spencer tightens his fingers around Brendon and his hips buck, toes squeezing around Jon's cock.
Jon digs his fingers into Brendon's ankles as his orgasm builds, the friction from Brendon's feet just enough to get him there - that, paired with the way Jon can see his own pre-come shining over the skin of Brendon's toes, the way they look as flushed as Brendon's cheeks do now. It's not easy, but Jon gasps and forces himself to keep his eyes open when he comes, watching the way Brendon coaxes the spurts of come from Jon's cock, the way it slides wetly down over Brendon's toes and his feet.
"Fuck, fuck," Brendon moans, head pushed back hard into Spencer's arm, and with Jon's come just drying on Brendon's toes, he comes with a shout over Spencer's fist.
Brendon's feet jerk in Jon's lap, toes curling and uncurling as he comes down from his orgasm, trying to catch his breath. Before Jon or Brendon can recover enough to move, Ryan's leaning down again, hand gone still over his own aching cock as he licks the come off Brendon's toes, tongue slipping wetly between them and over the sensitive skin of Jon's cock.
"Fucking, Jon, you guys--" Brendon gasps out, squirming as the touch of Ryan's warm tongue to his feet.
"I can't believe you actually--with your feet, Brendon--"
Jon laughs, and it feels good, light and happy after his orgasm. Ryan sits up, licks his lips where come sticks to the corners, and Jon's cock jerks unsympathetically.
"Your turn," Brendon says, turning around to face Spencer on the couch, and without giving it much thought Jon gets onto his knees on the carpeted floor, shuffling over to Spencer and bowing his head down to press a kiss to the top of Spencer's foot.
"Jon?" Spencer asks, voice gone quiet and rough, and when Jon looks up he can see Brendon working Spencer's pants open with shaky, eager hands.
"This okay?" Jon asks, licking a stripe up to Spencer's ankle. His skin tastes sweet, like lotion or soap, but mostly it tastes like skin and Jon can feel his cock starting to get hard again.
"It feels so good, Spence, fuck." Brendon holds the base of Spencer's cock and starts to suck, sinking his mouth down over Spencer and bobbing his head. Jon thinks Brendon looks way too comfortable sucking cock, and when he glances back at Ryan he gets a dark grin, Ryan's hand still jerking himself off, watching the three of them.
Jon keeps watching Spencer until he finally hears the soft, "Yeah, yes," and then he pulls Spencer's feet into his lap, thumbs digging into the muscle of Spencer's lower ankles as Jon leans down and licks Spencer's toes wet.
Spencer can't keep still, feet jerking in Jon's grip as soon as Jon starts to suck around Spencer's toe with the same rhythm Brendon sucks Spencer's cock, but whenever Spencer's feet twitch, Jon just scrapes his teeth lightly over the skin of Spencer's toes, smiling at the surprised gasp he gets in return.
Ryan's not one to be left out for long, and Jon can hear it more than see it when Ryan moves over next to Spencer, curling up to his friend's side, hand still working hard over himself.
"Ryan," Spencer moans, finally starting to sound undone the way Jon wants him to, the way he's been waiting for. Jon absently reaches down between his own legs and starts jerking himself off, scraping his teeth over the sensitive bottom of Spencer's foot, in the center where ticklish can easily turn into arousal.
"Spence, fuck, look at them."
Jon hears Ryan's low voice and imagines that they do, that they are looking at him, and even as he has his mouth on Spencer's foot, hand curled around his own cock, it's the fact that they're seeing how much he loves this that makes Jon flush hotly.
Spencer doesn't last long, not with whatever Brendon's doing with his mouth (and fuck, they are definitely going to have to do this again, because Brendon's mouth). Spencer's moan is muffled, and it's as Jon sucks on Spencer's skin, imagining Ryan's lips pressed hard to Spencer's, that Jon comes a second time, his orgasm sharper with just the smallest edge of pain, of toomuchtoosoon. Jon bites Spencer's skin and strokes himself through it, and when slender, wet fingers brush over Jon's cheek, Jon assumes Ryan's finally come too.
Jon looks up, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, and all three of them are staring back at him. Brendon's mouth is red, red and swollen and his hair is sticking up like Spencer had been pulling at it. Spencer looks wild, looks sleepy and satisfied, and Ryan's eyes are heavy and dark. They're the three most attractive people Jon knows and he isn't sure what he's supposed to say after this, so he's glad when Ryan reaches down and pulls Jon up to the couch with them.
It's not exactly comfortable, sitting so close together when they're all sticky and messy and too warm, but then Ryan leans his head on Jon's shoulder and says, "Dude, next time, just ask."
Jon smiles to himself at the words "next time" and thinks, yeah, I guess I will.