Think About It [NaNoRyRo 12]
Title: Think About It [NaNoRyRo 12]
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 1st, Ryan's
Summary: Ryan's in denial but Brendon sees through him.
Word Count: 589
Disclaimer: Entirely created from the recesses of my own diseased and fragmented brain case. This is what snorting word dust will do to you. :D Oh, and don't Google yourselves. Ever.
Beta: None.
Author Notes: My idea, 110%. :D
'10 NaNoRyRo Masterlist
I wasn't really sure when Brendon stopped being the hyperactive, nervous little Mormon kid and became the hyperactive, outgoing rock star, but when it happened, Brendon somehow also became that guy. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about, the guy that grabs every inappropriate part of your body in public just because he can to rile you up? It didn't really bother me at first, because, well, we weren't being hounded by paparazzi every minute of our day. It was really just the fans that wanted our pictures, so it didn't really bother me when Brendon would stand right behind me with his chin on my shoulder, his hand coming up at the last second to grab at my chest.
It's just, that gets kind of old after the millionth time he does it.
"What the fuck, Brendon?" I muttered, just as the picture was snapped.
He just laughed, moving away a little.
"Sorry about that, here, take another one," I offered the fan with the camera, moving back into place.
Just as she snapped the next one, Brendon plastered himself to my back, his hands resting dangerously low on my stomach. All I could do was freeze, because oh fuck, Brendon was semi-hard and his dick was pressed against my ass. Okay, so maybe I was a little gay.
The fan was satisfied, so she stepped away with her friend.
I turned on Brendon then, pointing to his can of Red Bull as he picked it up from the floor. "No more, Bren."
Brendon pouted but obeyed for the rest of the night.
***
Of course, it always happened again, not that I could stop it. I could tell Brendon to stop, but he never listened, doing it again a day or two later. He'd grab my chest, my ass, and otherwise invade my personal space at any given moment, especially if it was in public.
The kicker was the concert. You know, the concert. Right in the middle of a song, I was just standing at the front of the stage playing, minding my own business, when Brendon came up from behind me. By then it wasn't that big of a deal for him to invade my personal space, okay, he's Brendon, he's going to do that, inevitably. And when he ran his hand down my chest, okay, that's pretty normal too. But just when I thought he was going to walk away and leave me alone, his hand crept around my thigh, heading towards my crotch, and I freaked, flinching and quickly moving away. The fans went wild, and I was hard and blushing for the rest of the show.
"Brendon, what the fuck?" I hissed when we walked off stage, pulling him aside in the hallway.
"What?"
"You know what you did, don't play stupid with me."
Brendon grinned, leaning in and backing me against the wall. "You can't tell me you don't like it, Ry," he purred, running a hand straight down the middle of my chest and stomach to my crotch, grabbing the bulge in my slacks with a careful but firm hand.
I kind of maybe blushed. And squeaked embarrassingly loudly.
"Ryan?" Spencer called from somewhere down the hall, and Brendon took a half step back.
"Think about it," Brendon whispered, giving me his infamous smirk and winking before disappearing.
"Ryan? Hey, there you are," Spencer sighed, rounding the corner. "Are you okay?"
I swallowed and remembered how to breathe, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
"Well, come on, our fans are waiting."
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Rydon
POV: 1st, Ryan's
Summary: Ryan's in denial but Brendon sees through him.
Word Count: 589
Disclaimer: Entirely created from the recesses of my own diseased and fragmented brain case. This is what snorting word dust will do to you. :D Oh, and don't Google yourselves. Ever.
Beta: None.
Author Notes: My idea, 110%. :D
'10 NaNoRyRo Masterlist
I wasn't really sure when Brendon stopped being the hyperactive, nervous little Mormon kid and became the hyperactive, outgoing rock star, but when it happened, Brendon somehow also became that guy. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about, the guy that grabs every inappropriate part of your body in public just because he can to rile you up? It didn't really bother me at first, because, well, we weren't being hounded by paparazzi every minute of our day. It was really just the fans that wanted our pictures, so it didn't really bother me when Brendon would stand right behind me with his chin on my shoulder, his hand coming up at the last second to grab at my chest.
It's just, that gets kind of old after the millionth time he does it.
"What the fuck, Brendon?" I muttered, just as the picture was snapped.
He just laughed, moving away a little.
"Sorry about that, here, take another one," I offered the fan with the camera, moving back into place.
Just as she snapped the next one, Brendon plastered himself to my back, his hands resting dangerously low on my stomach. All I could do was freeze, because oh fuck, Brendon was semi-hard and his dick was pressed against my ass. Okay, so maybe I was a little gay.
The fan was satisfied, so she stepped away with her friend.
I turned on Brendon then, pointing to his can of Red Bull as he picked it up from the floor. "No more, Bren."
Brendon pouted but obeyed for the rest of the night.
***
Of course, it always happened again, not that I could stop it. I could tell Brendon to stop, but he never listened, doing it again a day or two later. He'd grab my chest, my ass, and otherwise invade my personal space at any given moment, especially if it was in public.
The kicker was the concert. You know, the concert. Right in the middle of a song, I was just standing at the front of the stage playing, minding my own business, when Brendon came up from behind me. By then it wasn't that big of a deal for him to invade my personal space, okay, he's Brendon, he's going to do that, inevitably. And when he ran his hand down my chest, okay, that's pretty normal too. But just when I thought he was going to walk away and leave me alone, his hand crept around my thigh, heading towards my crotch, and I freaked, flinching and quickly moving away. The fans went wild, and I was hard and blushing for the rest of the show.
"Brendon, what the fuck?" I hissed when we walked off stage, pulling him aside in the hallway.
"What?"
"You know what you did, don't play stupid with me."
Brendon grinned, leaning in and backing me against the wall. "You can't tell me you don't like it, Ry," he purred, running a hand straight down the middle of my chest and stomach to my crotch, grabbing the bulge in my slacks with a careful but firm hand.
I kind of maybe blushed. And squeaked embarrassingly loudly.
"Ryan?" Spencer called from somewhere down the hall, and Brendon took a half step back.
"Think about it," Brendon whispered, giving me his infamous smirk and winking before disappearing.
"Ryan? Hey, there you are," Spencer sighed, rounding the corner. "Are you okay?"
I swallowed and remembered how to breathe, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
"Well, come on, our fans are waiting."