Get Ur Freak On [NaNoRyRo 2]
Title: Get Ur Freak On [NaNoRyRo 2]
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 3rd, omniscient
Summary: Whoops.
Word Count: 762
Disclaimer: Not my boys, never happened. Don't Google yourselves, kids. Especially you, Bden, I see you lurking over there. *SpencerSmithglare*
Beta: None.
Author Notes: Prompt: Ryro orders a male stripper... which is Brendon's job aside from the band and Ryro accidentally ends up as his client?
'09 NaNoRyRo Masterlist
Ryan tried not to think the worst when he answered the door to his motel room.
"Brendon? What are you doing here? How... how did you know where I was?"
Brendon was just as shocked to see Ryan there. "Uhm, I... I didn't."
"Then...? Never mind, but right now is kind of a bad time, see, I have someone coming over really soon. They should be here any minute..."
Brendon groaned inwardly. Ryan Ross, his best friend, lyricist and guitarist was his fucking client. He didn't even know that Ryan was even into guys. 'Fuck it,' he thought. 'Just go for it.'
"Oh, and who might that be?" Brendon inquired airily, letting himself into the room and leaving Ryan to sigh and lock the door.
"Just... someone, okay?"
"Does this someone have a name?"
Brendon saw Ryan's face pale out of the corner of his eye and he grinned. He let out a fake gasp when the elder didn't answer.
"You bought a hooker, didn't you, Ry?" Brendon asked incredulously, turning on Ryan.
"What? No!" the elder defended himself, but he couldn't meet Brendon's eyes.
The singer chuckled lightly, stepping closer to Ryan as he began to slowly unzip his jacket. "No, of course you didn't," he amended softly, a smirk gracing his lips as he noticed Ryan's eyes following his zipper. "That's not your style, Ross. You ordered a stripper."
Ryan finally met Brendon's eyes and could only stare at him as he let his jacket fall and began unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time. "How did... Okay, seriously, Brendon. What the fuck are you doing here?"
"You ordered a stripper," Brendon answered bluntly, popping the second two buttons of his shirt and noting Ryan's wandering eyes. "Well, here I am."
"You...," Ryan trailed off, mouth falling open in shock when the realization hit him. Brendon undid the last three buttons of his shirt and let it fall open to reveal his undershirt. "Oh." Ryan backed up until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sat down heavily. "Oh."
"Normally, I don't let clients touch me," Brendon added nonchalantly, staying only a mere step away from the elder. "But because I know you, I think we can bend the rules a little." Shrugging his shirt off, he wrapped it around the back of Ryan's neck and pulled him in close as he kneeled over his lap.
Ryan swallowed hard and nodded, letting his hands rest lightly on Brendon's thighs.
Brendon smirked and continued his tease, rolling his hips seductively as he slowly lifted up his undershirt before pulling it off completely and flinging it across the room. He could see the want in Ryan's eyes and he quickly stood again, running his hands over his smooth torso, his hips gyrating in slow circles to silent music.
Ryan was almost in a trance by the time Brendon finally got around to unbuckling his belt, and the elder was desperately hard. The singer whipped his belt out of its loops with a soft whoosh, dropping it to the floor as he neared Ryan again.
"You want to do the honors?" Brendon asked in a sultry tone, fingering the buttons on his jeans but not undoing them, his crotch almost level with the lyricist's face.
Ryan nodded, his throat dry, and reached out trembling hands to undo the five buttons much quicker than Brendon would have, but still rather slow nonetheless. As soon as Ryan had gotten all the buttons, Brendon stepped away again and turned, making a big show out of letting his jeans slide down his gorgeous ass and feminine hips.
"Fuck, Brendon," Ryan finally whispered, his voice coming back out of nowhere as he watched the singer's amazing ass through his tight black boxer briefs, his hips moving to some imagined beat in his head.
Straddling Ryan once more, Brendon grabbed the shirt still around the elder's neck and pushed his hips down against Ryan's, looking straight into his eyes. He leaned in close to the guitarist, lips barely brushing over his ear.
"Do you want to fuck me, Ryan? I'd let you, you know."
Ryan took in a shuddering breath, hands gripping Brendon's thighs.
"It's technically against my policy, but like I said, I think we can break a few rules."
Ryan's throat was working hard to breathe, to make a sound, to do anything.
"What do you say?"
Ryan hesitated for a split second before throwing Brendon on the bed, pinning him to the comforter.
The lyricist grinned down at his singer. "Fuck yes."
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 3rd, omniscient
Summary: Whoops.
Word Count: 762
Disclaimer: Not my boys, never happened. Don't Google yourselves, kids. Especially you, Bden, I see you lurking over there. *SpencerSmithglare*
Beta: None.
Author Notes: Prompt: Ryro orders a male stripper... which is Brendon's job aside from the band and Ryro accidentally ends up as his client?
'09 NaNoRyRo Masterlist
Ryan tried not to think the worst when he answered the door to his motel room.
"Brendon? What are you doing here? How... how did you know where I was?"
Brendon was just as shocked to see Ryan there. "Uhm, I... I didn't."
"Then...? Never mind, but right now is kind of a bad time, see, I have someone coming over really soon. They should be here any minute..."
Brendon groaned inwardly. Ryan Ross, his best friend, lyricist and guitarist was his fucking client. He didn't even know that Ryan was even into guys. 'Fuck it,' he thought. 'Just go for it.'
"Oh, and who might that be?" Brendon inquired airily, letting himself into the room and leaving Ryan to sigh and lock the door.
"Just... someone, okay?"
"Does this someone have a name?"
Brendon saw Ryan's face pale out of the corner of his eye and he grinned. He let out a fake gasp when the elder didn't answer.
"You bought a hooker, didn't you, Ry?" Brendon asked incredulously, turning on Ryan.
"What? No!" the elder defended himself, but he couldn't meet Brendon's eyes.
The singer chuckled lightly, stepping closer to Ryan as he began to slowly unzip his jacket. "No, of course you didn't," he amended softly, a smirk gracing his lips as he noticed Ryan's eyes following his zipper. "That's not your style, Ross. You ordered a stripper."
Ryan finally met Brendon's eyes and could only stare at him as he let his jacket fall and began unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time. "How did... Okay, seriously, Brendon. What the fuck are you doing here?"
"You ordered a stripper," Brendon answered bluntly, popping the second two buttons of his shirt and noting Ryan's wandering eyes. "Well, here I am."
"You...," Ryan trailed off, mouth falling open in shock when the realization hit him. Brendon undid the last three buttons of his shirt and let it fall open to reveal his undershirt. "Oh." Ryan backed up until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he sat down heavily. "Oh."
"Normally, I don't let clients touch me," Brendon added nonchalantly, staying only a mere step away from the elder. "But because I know you, I think we can bend the rules a little." Shrugging his shirt off, he wrapped it around the back of Ryan's neck and pulled him in close as he kneeled over his lap.
Ryan swallowed hard and nodded, letting his hands rest lightly on Brendon's thighs.
Brendon smirked and continued his tease, rolling his hips seductively as he slowly lifted up his undershirt before pulling it off completely and flinging it across the room. He could see the want in Ryan's eyes and he quickly stood again, running his hands over his smooth torso, his hips gyrating in slow circles to silent music.
Ryan was almost in a trance by the time Brendon finally got around to unbuckling his belt, and the elder was desperately hard. The singer whipped his belt out of its loops with a soft whoosh, dropping it to the floor as he neared Ryan again.
"You want to do the honors?" Brendon asked in a sultry tone, fingering the buttons on his jeans but not undoing them, his crotch almost level with the lyricist's face.
Ryan nodded, his throat dry, and reached out trembling hands to undo the five buttons much quicker than Brendon would have, but still rather slow nonetheless. As soon as Ryan had gotten all the buttons, Brendon stepped away again and turned, making a big show out of letting his jeans slide down his gorgeous ass and feminine hips.
"Fuck, Brendon," Ryan finally whispered, his voice coming back out of nowhere as he watched the singer's amazing ass through his tight black boxer briefs, his hips moving to some imagined beat in his head.
Straddling Ryan once more, Brendon grabbed the shirt still around the elder's neck and pushed his hips down against Ryan's, looking straight into his eyes. He leaned in close to the guitarist, lips barely brushing over his ear.
"Do you want to fuck me, Ryan? I'd let you, you know."
Ryan took in a shuddering breath, hands gripping Brendon's thighs.
"It's technically against my policy, but like I said, I think we can break a few rules."
Ryan's throat was working hard to breathe, to make a sound, to do anything.
"What do you say?"
Ryan hesitated for a split second before throwing Brendon on the bed, pinning him to the comforter.
The lyricist grinned down at his singer. "Fuck yes."