'Let Me See Your Moves'
Title: Let me See Your Moves
Rating: M (Blowjob. Yummy)
Summary: Ryan Ross' first time on the red carpet.
Pairing: Ryan/Pete
Disclaimer: I do not own either Ryan Ross or Pete Wentz.
Un-Betad at this point.
“Hey, Pete?”
“Uh-huh?”
“You’re gonna be with me the whole time out there, right?”
Pete was turned to look at Ryan thoughtfully. How old was this kid? Eighteen or something equally ridiculous? Fall out Boy was still kind of green as a band but he looked at Panic! At the Disco and felt old. He felt like they had been going on red carpets and being invited to events since the dawn of time and it was kind of weird. Underneath that initial weirdness was a sense of pride nonetheless. He remembered hearing them for the first time and being mad at the world for not scooping these boys up sooner. Ryan especially was amazing. A young genius of a lyricist, an amazing guitarist and a singer. Plus he was taking vocal and piano lessons now. Pete felt sort of inferior with his shitty bass playing and infrequent screamo and the height difference didn’t help that an inch, no pun intended.
Pete had learned to deal with inferiority since he was in a band with Patrick Martin fucking Stump, musical genius.
In Ryan Pete saw youth, innocence, cool, opportunity and a turning point in contemporary music.
Here, however, he saw fear. He saw a boy that had just go out of high school and was being shoved straight into stardom. Especially tonight. Panic had only just released their first album and Pete could practically hear the headlines screaming at him now. ‘Pete Wentz shows off new protégé Ryan Ross at blah blah bladdy-blah’, he couldn’t even remember what the hell it was he was going to. All he knew was Ryan was coming really. That was really all he wanted to know since Ryan was maybe the most interesting thing in his life right now excluding Patrick but Patrick was top of like most of Pete’s lists so that was nothing new. Pete looked into Ryan’s worried large brown eyes and was happy it was dark inside the car so Ryan couldn’t see him bite down on his lip before answering with a slight crack in his voice,
“Yeah, sure I’ll be with you the whole time. Don’t worry about it. War veterans like me know how to handle these people. I’ll show you my battle scars later.”
Ryan was a fucking natural at this too. He hung close to Pete and it was only slightly obvious that he was nervous but he looked like a fucking model or something - Pete felt so short - just posing for pictures alongside Pete like it was no big deal. Walking down and remembering not to stop at every person that called his or Pete’s name. He wasn’t happy per say but he was good. A few nervous glances to Pete, some comforting squeezes on his arm or hand from Pete, and Ryan was getting on perfectly.
When they were inside Ryan maintained that cool demeanour he had so carelessly thrown on like an old jacket before they got out of the car but Pete could see Ryan’s skinny legs begging to buckle with a fear that he refused to let show on his face.
“Hey, Ry? You can relax now,” Pete cooed. “You were great.”
“Don’t patronise me,” Ryan laughed and rested an elbow on Pete’s head. “I’m not that young and besides I could squish you.”
“You’re like 5 first of all and second of all not if I snapped you first,” Pete warned. “You remember where we are?”
“Nope.”
“Neither do I. Should we ditch?”
“Yeah. Let’s go eat.”
“You always want to eat. Let’s get lost.”
“What?!.”
“This way!”
Pete didn’t quite know where they were but they were at a bar and so far only the girl that had served them wanted an autograph so everything was cool. Pete kept asking for weird cocktails that no one but the crazy barmaid had heard of and there was one called a blowjob which you couldn’t use your hands to drink which was a little bit unrealistic but so funny to watch.
“Are you serious? Won’t you explode?!” Ryan asked and Pete lifted an eyebrow. He looked down at Ryan’s five (yes, five) chocolate brownies that he had picked up on the way, looked at Ryan and moved onto his peach and lime daquiri, just because he could.
“So not the same thing,” Ryan disagreed. “I’m a growing boy or whatever. You might die or turn into an emo lush or something and that would be bad for everyone because you’d start beating on Patrick and Patrick is awesome.”
“I had a dream that happened once,” Pete reminisced. “I think I made Spencer cry. That was the scariest and saddest thing I’ve ever seen. I called him as soon as I woke up.”
“I remember that. He was really edgy the entire day. He said we weren’t allowed to ever even think about his shoes ever again. Ever. What did this dream entail?”
“…Don’t worry.”
“But--…”
“No. Way.”
Ryan shrugged in a way that he knew read, ‘Spencer will tell’ and finished his second brownie - he wasn’t drinking since he was underage so he was eating like a fiend -. Ryan did things like that a lot and it scared Pete shitless because he had this way of finding anything out that you won’t tell him. Pete was suspicious of Specer and PAtrick since they were shoe buddies but he was still gathering evidence.
“Do you think anyone will notice we’re gone?” Ryan asked worriedly.
“What was it? Like a premier or something?” Pete wondered. “No one will care most likely.”
“Okay,” Ryan sighed. “I can just see the headlines tomorrow. Wentz’ young protégé leading him astray on his first red carpet appearance. They’ll spin some long story about me giving you a blowie in a bathroom and it’ll be like a tabloid version of Livejournal only without the awesome fans.”
Pete’s mind refused to move from that image for the rest of the evening.
“Was I really good Pete? I mean, I didn’t fuck up and embarrass you?” Ryan asked suddenly. Pete raised an eyebrow and prepared a witty reply but he was caught off guard by those earnest brown eyes. He was told so often that Ryan hero-worshipped him but here he could see it wasn’t so much worship as a need for guidance. He was so pretty. His eyes were just the beginning of the appeal of him. There was awesome hair, beautiful skin, lavender hoodies, pretty lips, sharp tongue, more lavender hoodies and what a way with words…
Alarm bells were going off in his head underneath all this. Ryan was seven years younger than him. When Pete was legally allowed to have sex Ryan had just moved into double figures. The kid still couldn’t drink. There were so many things wrong with Pete’s train of thought but all he could think when he looked at the beautiful and talented boy in front of him was how damn much he wanted to lick the chocolate off his lips and taste Ryan in his mouth.
“You were perfect,” Pete answered honestly with a slight slur in his speech. “To the last hair on your Ryhawk.”
“Good, I really didn’t want to mess up even if it was my first time,” Ryan sighed, sounding relieved. Pete smiled at Ryan, feeling a connection on that. He, like Pete, was a perfectionist and really made that obvious when they were recording their album. Pete could really relate to that since Patrick was constantly telling him to stop freaking out about little things in songs or videos that really really bugged him.
“Like I’d let you fuck up when it was my ass on the line bringing you out,” Pete joked and flicked some sugar in Ryan’s vicinity.
“Please,” Ryan laughed. “I make you look good.”
Spencer and Brendon knew that Ryan had a huge crush on Pete - Brent didn’t know anything but that was the kind of sentence you could apply to any situation - and constantly teased him with it. He would remain adamant that it wasn’t that huge but when he was sat here feeling sick to his stomach with nerves and wanting so bad to kiss this man in front of him he maybe it probably was a bit. Brendon knew so it had to be pretty obvious, but Pete seemed to have no clue whatsoever. Sometimes he seemed more nervous around Ryan than Ryan was around him. That might have been because Ryan just hid his nerves behind quietness and wit, but whatever.
Ryan remembered feeling awkward on that red carpet, hunching over slightly to be closer to Pete’s height and trying not to feel bombarded by all the flash photography. He was sure he had messed up completely but Pete believed he had done well and that was all he needed. Not to feel like he was a star, because Pete had told him it was kind of like being on that show Big Brother except there is no escape and how fucking ominous is that? He was more concerned with showing Pete how grown up he was and not just little Ryan.
This plot was failing a little because that last brownie had made Ryan feel really thirsty so Pete gave him…something to drink. Ryan was a little bit of a lightweight so after a few sips he was almost under the table.
He and Pete were giggling at each other and getting a suspicious eye from the people at the bar.
“Ssh! You’ll get us kicked out!” Pete hushed Ryan. “You’re underage, remember?”
“So? I can get you to buy the place Mr. Rock star,” Ryan giggled. “You can like, change the name and everything. Make it into something awesome like a Starbucks that sells other stuff but you can’t use Starbucks because that’s copyright infringement or something…Like real food…”
“Oh no way,” Pete shook his head. “Andy would beat me senseless with his entire drum kit unless it was all vegan. No we should think outside of you damn stomach. I could call it Starfucks and whore out you and the rest of Panic! Well, Brent can do security but you get what I mean.”
“Don't hate on the Brent-meister! Spencer would so not agree with being whored out. Plus he wouldn’t let Brendon get molested by anyone but him,” Ryan told Pete. “You could make it like, this really clandestine little bar/big room with lots of pillows and shit and have mass orgies.”
“Sexy,” Pete agreed. “But we’ll make it actual Starfucks. Celebrity orgies that the public just can’t access.”
“You could have like bathrooms built especially for blowies…”
“…Clean floors and knee-rests! Because scummy cold floors don’t agree with anyone’s jeans.”
“You could have metal bars going around the room so you can have something to grip when you’re being blown, apart from the other guy’s head because that hurts like a bitch. O-or so I’ve heard…”
“Will they still serve coffee?”
“Yeah, in the morning when you’re looking for more of a mutual masturbation scene rather than a full blown orgy because you’re tired and stuff.”
Ryan and Pete were under each other’s chairs now, curling into themselves with laughter now at the idea they were creating and Ryan couldn’t even pull himself up to finish his food.
“It’s like, the perfect place for our tabloid blowjob,” he giggled breathlessly.
“But this place is like, press-proof,” Pete laughed and attempted to pull Ryan to his feet.
“Who says I want anyone to see,” Ryan smiled and wrapped his arms around Pete’s arm. “Maybe I just want to blow you, Pete.”
Ryan heard Pete’s breath catch in his throat and in the back of his mind he was freaking out in case he had made a fool of himself, but his mind wasn’t all there. It was half-bathed in alcohol and Pete’s bright hazel eyes.
“Ry, you’re drunk,” Pete laughed nervously. “Let’s get you home and get Spencer to take care of you.”
“I’m not drunk!” Ryan said defiantly. “I’m just thinking a little less straight than I was before because you gave me that drink and-oh fine, I’m drunk. But I’m serious.”
“Ryan, you’re only eighteen…” Pete mumbled worriedly.
“I’m legal in pretty much every state in this country,” Ryan retorted. “Please, I don’t want to be embarrassing myself…”
“God, you’re so not,” Pete croaked. His throat was dry and his morals were fucking melting under Ryan’s pleading gaze. “You’re so not embarrassing yourself…I’ve wanted this for-”
“So take it, damn, I’m throwing myself at you here.”
“But Ry, I-”
“Do not make me get us thrown out because I will.”
“Ryan…”
“Pete.”
Ryan buried his face into the curve of Pete’s neck, his knees bent and gripping Pete tightly and Pete’s morals suddenly went out the window. He was so happy there was pretty much no one in this bar so he pulled Ryan out of the door and dragged him to his car. He couldn’t even hold back long enough to get into the car and Pete pushed Ryan against the side, kissing him roughly and nibbling on his lower lip, pushing one leg between Ryan’s, spreading his things. Ryan was gripping Pete’s hips, begging for Pete in whispers between kisses.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Pete purred with his face pressed to Ryan’s, eyes locked and his lips moving lower until he was bruising Ryan’s neck. Ryan made the most gorgeous noises, half-moans half-whimpers, when Pete kisses his neck.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…” Ryan hissed and gripped Pete tighter when his damn cold hands moved up Ryan’s shirt, gripping his hips then sliding his hands up, drawing circles over his nipples with his fingers and smiling at the soft whimper that escaped his lips.
“Pete,” Ryan gasped. “Not out here…please, ngh, ah…”
“You’re so pretty,” Pete smirked. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this…”
Pete moved one hand to open the car door and felt Ryan deflate at the sudden lack of contact. He pressed his erection into Pete’s thigh and kept whispering filthy. drunken and mixed up giberish. Pete could barely tell this boy was only eighteen. He pulled Ryan close as he swung the door open and dragged him into the backseats, slowly undoing his belt and smiling up at Ryan from between his legs.
“P-Pete, I was going to-” Ryan stammered but Pete pulled himself up to kiss Ryan.
“Let me,” he whispered, pulling on Ryan’s lower lip with his teeth and that startled deer-in-the-headlights look that he gave Pete was so cute.
“Fucking size zero skinny jeans…” Pete cursed under his breath as he pulled down Ryan’s jeans and boxers and gasped almost inaudibly.
“How do you fit in these?!” He asked incredulously and Ryan laughed nervously, ready to say something intelligent and cocky - damn these puns kept finding their way into Ryan's train of thought - but he was stopped by Pete’s tongue along his shaft. He shivered and let his head fall back. Pete was good. Better than good. Ryan’s hand moved down to the back of his head, his long fingers curling and tugging in Pete’s soft black hair, gently pushing Pete further down on his rock hard cock and shit, he just did something…something with his tongue that sent a shot of electricity up Ryan’s back and he couldn’t stop a throaty moan escaping his lips. Watching Pete bobbing up and down was so much sexier that Ryan could have fathomed. He hollowed out his cheeks and sucked harder, Ryan trying hard not to buck too hard into his mouth but he could feel the pressure building in his hips.
“Fuck…Pete…so close…” he choked out breathlessly, feeling beads of sweat building on his forehead. Whatever happened next was insane, so amazingly wonderfully good and hot Ryan's whole body tensed up and he was shaking in anticipation.
Ryan exploded, arching off the car seat into Pete’s mouth and riding out the best orgasm he had probably ever had, biting down hard into his bottom lip and spilling equally hard into Pete’s mouth. He moved to sit up while Pete slid off him and they both smiled, Pete wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve and stretching to wipe it on Ryan’s face.
“Ew, you fucking weirdo!” Ryan barked and held Pete’s arm away fro his face.
“Come on, taste it Ryro,” Pete grinned goofily. “Open your mouth and close your eyes and you will get a big surprise!”
“Dirty bastard,” Ryan hissed and Pete shifted so he was lying on top of Ryan.
“What do you think would happen if we were found?” he asked Ryan who shrugged.
“Who knows,” he said. “But can we not stick around to find out?”
“Anything you want princess,” Pete placed a chaste and not-so-tasty - ‘fucking EW!’ ran through Ryan’s mind - kiss on Ryan’s lips and crawled into the front seat of the car.
“We can go to my house and you can return the favour.”
Ryan had no problem with that proposition.
“So this is what it’s like to be famous?” Ryan asked with a smirk and Pete laughed.
“Only if I think you’re hot,” he explained. “You can ask Patrick some time.”
“WHAT?!”
“Kidding! Just kidding!”
Rating: M (Blowjob. Yummy)
Summary: Ryan Ross' first time on the red carpet.
Pairing: Ryan/Pete
Disclaimer: I do not own either Ryan Ross or Pete Wentz.
Un-Betad at this point.
“Hey, Pete?”
“Uh-huh?”
“You’re gonna be with me the whole time out there, right?”
Pete was turned to look at Ryan thoughtfully. How old was this kid? Eighteen or something equally ridiculous? Fall out Boy was still kind of green as a band but he looked at Panic! At the Disco and felt old. He felt like they had been going on red carpets and being invited to events since the dawn of time and it was kind of weird. Underneath that initial weirdness was a sense of pride nonetheless. He remembered hearing them for the first time and being mad at the world for not scooping these boys up sooner. Ryan especially was amazing. A young genius of a lyricist, an amazing guitarist and a singer. Plus he was taking vocal and piano lessons now. Pete felt sort of inferior with his shitty bass playing and infrequent screamo and the height difference didn’t help that an inch, no pun intended.
Pete had learned to deal with inferiority since he was in a band with Patrick Martin fucking Stump, musical genius.
In Ryan Pete saw youth, innocence, cool, opportunity and a turning point in contemporary music.
Here, however, he saw fear. He saw a boy that had just go out of high school and was being shoved straight into stardom. Especially tonight. Panic had only just released their first album and Pete could practically hear the headlines screaming at him now. ‘Pete Wentz shows off new protégé Ryan Ross at blah blah bladdy-blah’, he couldn’t even remember what the hell it was he was going to. All he knew was Ryan was coming really. That was really all he wanted to know since Ryan was maybe the most interesting thing in his life right now excluding Patrick but Patrick was top of like most of Pete’s lists so that was nothing new. Pete looked into Ryan’s worried large brown eyes and was happy it was dark inside the car so Ryan couldn’t see him bite down on his lip before answering with a slight crack in his voice,
“Yeah, sure I’ll be with you the whole time. Don’t worry about it. War veterans like me know how to handle these people. I’ll show you my battle scars later.”
Ryan was a fucking natural at this too. He hung close to Pete and it was only slightly obvious that he was nervous but he looked like a fucking model or something - Pete felt so short - just posing for pictures alongside Pete like it was no big deal. Walking down and remembering not to stop at every person that called his or Pete’s name. He wasn’t happy per say but he was good. A few nervous glances to Pete, some comforting squeezes on his arm or hand from Pete, and Ryan was getting on perfectly.
When they were inside Ryan maintained that cool demeanour he had so carelessly thrown on like an old jacket before they got out of the car but Pete could see Ryan’s skinny legs begging to buckle with a fear that he refused to let show on his face.
“Hey, Ry? You can relax now,” Pete cooed. “You were great.”
“Don’t patronise me,” Ryan laughed and rested an elbow on Pete’s head. “I’m not that young and besides I could squish you.”
“You’re like 5 first of all and second of all not if I snapped you first,” Pete warned. “You remember where we are?”
“Nope.”
“Neither do I. Should we ditch?”
“Yeah. Let’s go eat.”
“You always want to eat. Let’s get lost.”
“What?!.”
“This way!”
Pete didn’t quite know where they were but they were at a bar and so far only the girl that had served them wanted an autograph so everything was cool. Pete kept asking for weird cocktails that no one but the crazy barmaid had heard of and there was one called a blowjob which you couldn’t use your hands to drink which was a little bit unrealistic but so funny to watch.
“Are you serious? Won’t you explode?!” Ryan asked and Pete lifted an eyebrow. He looked down at Ryan’s five (yes, five) chocolate brownies that he had picked up on the way, looked at Ryan and moved onto his peach and lime daquiri, just because he could.
“So not the same thing,” Ryan disagreed. “I’m a growing boy or whatever. You might die or turn into an emo lush or something and that would be bad for everyone because you’d start beating on Patrick and Patrick is awesome.”
“I had a dream that happened once,” Pete reminisced. “I think I made Spencer cry. That was the scariest and saddest thing I’ve ever seen. I called him as soon as I woke up.”
“I remember that. He was really edgy the entire day. He said we weren’t allowed to ever even think about his shoes ever again. Ever. What did this dream entail?”
“…Don’t worry.”
“But--…”
“No. Way.”
Ryan shrugged in a way that he knew read, ‘Spencer will tell’ and finished his second brownie - he wasn’t drinking since he was underage so he was eating like a fiend -. Ryan did things like that a lot and it scared Pete shitless because he had this way of finding anything out that you won’t tell him. Pete was suspicious of Specer and PAtrick since they were shoe buddies but he was still gathering evidence.
“Do you think anyone will notice we’re gone?” Ryan asked worriedly.
“What was it? Like a premier or something?” Pete wondered. “No one will care most likely.”
“Okay,” Ryan sighed. “I can just see the headlines tomorrow. Wentz’ young protégé leading him astray on his first red carpet appearance. They’ll spin some long story about me giving you a blowie in a bathroom and it’ll be like a tabloid version of Livejournal only without the awesome fans.”
Pete’s mind refused to move from that image for the rest of the evening.
“Was I really good Pete? I mean, I didn’t fuck up and embarrass you?” Ryan asked suddenly. Pete raised an eyebrow and prepared a witty reply but he was caught off guard by those earnest brown eyes. He was told so often that Ryan hero-worshipped him but here he could see it wasn’t so much worship as a need for guidance. He was so pretty. His eyes were just the beginning of the appeal of him. There was awesome hair, beautiful skin, lavender hoodies, pretty lips, sharp tongue, more lavender hoodies and what a way with words…
Alarm bells were going off in his head underneath all this. Ryan was seven years younger than him. When Pete was legally allowed to have sex Ryan had just moved into double figures. The kid still couldn’t drink. There were so many things wrong with Pete’s train of thought but all he could think when he looked at the beautiful and talented boy in front of him was how damn much he wanted to lick the chocolate off his lips and taste Ryan in his mouth.
“You were perfect,” Pete answered honestly with a slight slur in his speech. “To the last hair on your Ryhawk.”
“Good, I really didn’t want to mess up even if it was my first time,” Ryan sighed, sounding relieved. Pete smiled at Ryan, feeling a connection on that. He, like Pete, was a perfectionist and really made that obvious when they were recording their album. Pete could really relate to that since Patrick was constantly telling him to stop freaking out about little things in songs or videos that really really bugged him.
“Like I’d let you fuck up when it was my ass on the line bringing you out,” Pete joked and flicked some sugar in Ryan’s vicinity.
“Please,” Ryan laughed. “I make you look good.”
Spencer and Brendon knew that Ryan had a huge crush on Pete - Brent didn’t know anything but that was the kind of sentence you could apply to any situation - and constantly teased him with it. He would remain adamant that it wasn’t that huge but when he was sat here feeling sick to his stomach with nerves and wanting so bad to kiss this man in front of him he maybe it probably was a bit. Brendon knew so it had to be pretty obvious, but Pete seemed to have no clue whatsoever. Sometimes he seemed more nervous around Ryan than Ryan was around him. That might have been because Ryan just hid his nerves behind quietness and wit, but whatever.
Ryan remembered feeling awkward on that red carpet, hunching over slightly to be closer to Pete’s height and trying not to feel bombarded by all the flash photography. He was sure he had messed up completely but Pete believed he had done well and that was all he needed. Not to feel like he was a star, because Pete had told him it was kind of like being on that show Big Brother except there is no escape and how fucking ominous is that? He was more concerned with showing Pete how grown up he was and not just little Ryan.
This plot was failing a little because that last brownie had made Ryan feel really thirsty so Pete gave him…something to drink. Ryan was a little bit of a lightweight so after a few sips he was almost under the table.
He and Pete were giggling at each other and getting a suspicious eye from the people at the bar.
“Ssh! You’ll get us kicked out!” Pete hushed Ryan. “You’re underage, remember?”
“So? I can get you to buy the place Mr. Rock star,” Ryan giggled. “You can like, change the name and everything. Make it into something awesome like a Starbucks that sells other stuff but you can’t use Starbucks because that’s copyright infringement or something…Like real food…”
“Oh no way,” Pete shook his head. “Andy would beat me senseless with his entire drum kit unless it was all vegan. No we should think outside of you damn stomach. I could call it Starfucks and whore out you and the rest of Panic! Well, Brent can do security but you get what I mean.”
“Don't hate on the Brent-meister! Spencer would so not agree with being whored out. Plus he wouldn’t let Brendon get molested by anyone but him,” Ryan told Pete. “You could make it like, this really clandestine little bar/big room with lots of pillows and shit and have mass orgies.”
“Sexy,” Pete agreed. “But we’ll make it actual Starfucks. Celebrity orgies that the public just can’t access.”
“You could have like bathrooms built especially for blowies…”
“…Clean floors and knee-rests! Because scummy cold floors don’t agree with anyone’s jeans.”
“You could have metal bars going around the room so you can have something to grip when you’re being blown, apart from the other guy’s head because that hurts like a bitch. O-or so I’ve heard…”
“Will they still serve coffee?”
“Yeah, in the morning when you’re looking for more of a mutual masturbation scene rather than a full blown orgy because you’re tired and stuff.”
Ryan and Pete were under each other’s chairs now, curling into themselves with laughter now at the idea they were creating and Ryan couldn’t even pull himself up to finish his food.
“It’s like, the perfect place for our tabloid blowjob,” he giggled breathlessly.
“But this place is like, press-proof,” Pete laughed and attempted to pull Ryan to his feet.
“Who says I want anyone to see,” Ryan smiled and wrapped his arms around Pete’s arm. “Maybe I just want to blow you, Pete.”
Ryan heard Pete’s breath catch in his throat and in the back of his mind he was freaking out in case he had made a fool of himself, but his mind wasn’t all there. It was half-bathed in alcohol and Pete’s bright hazel eyes.
“Ry, you’re drunk,” Pete laughed nervously. “Let’s get you home and get Spencer to take care of you.”
“I’m not drunk!” Ryan said defiantly. “I’m just thinking a little less straight than I was before because you gave me that drink and-oh fine, I’m drunk. But I’m serious.”
“Ryan, you’re only eighteen…” Pete mumbled worriedly.
“I’m legal in pretty much every state in this country,” Ryan retorted. “Please, I don’t want to be embarrassing myself…”
“God, you’re so not,” Pete croaked. His throat was dry and his morals were fucking melting under Ryan’s pleading gaze. “You’re so not embarrassing yourself…I’ve wanted this for-”
“So take it, damn, I’m throwing myself at you here.”
“But Ry, I-”
“Do not make me get us thrown out because I will.”
“Ryan…”
“Pete.”
Ryan buried his face into the curve of Pete’s neck, his knees bent and gripping Pete tightly and Pete’s morals suddenly went out the window. He was so happy there was pretty much no one in this bar so he pulled Ryan out of the door and dragged him to his car. He couldn’t even hold back long enough to get into the car and Pete pushed Ryan against the side, kissing him roughly and nibbling on his lower lip, pushing one leg between Ryan’s, spreading his things. Ryan was gripping Pete’s hips, begging for Pete in whispers between kisses.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Pete purred with his face pressed to Ryan’s, eyes locked and his lips moving lower until he was bruising Ryan’s neck. Ryan made the most gorgeous noises, half-moans half-whimpers, when Pete kisses his neck.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…” Ryan hissed and gripped Pete tighter when his damn cold hands moved up Ryan’s shirt, gripping his hips then sliding his hands up, drawing circles over his nipples with his fingers and smiling at the soft whimper that escaped his lips.
“Pete,” Ryan gasped. “Not out here…please, ngh, ah…”
“You’re so pretty,” Pete smirked. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this…”
Pete moved one hand to open the car door and felt Ryan deflate at the sudden lack of contact. He pressed his erection into Pete’s thigh and kept whispering filthy. drunken and mixed up giberish. Pete could barely tell this boy was only eighteen. He pulled Ryan close as he swung the door open and dragged him into the backseats, slowly undoing his belt and smiling up at Ryan from between his legs.
“P-Pete, I was going to-” Ryan stammered but Pete pulled himself up to kiss Ryan.
“Let me,” he whispered, pulling on Ryan’s lower lip with his teeth and that startled deer-in-the-headlights look that he gave Pete was so cute.
“Fucking size zero skinny jeans…” Pete cursed under his breath as he pulled down Ryan’s jeans and boxers and gasped almost inaudibly.
“How do you fit in these?!” He asked incredulously and Ryan laughed nervously, ready to say something intelligent and cocky - damn these puns kept finding their way into Ryan's train of thought - but he was stopped by Pete’s tongue along his shaft. He shivered and let his head fall back. Pete was good. Better than good. Ryan’s hand moved down to the back of his head, his long fingers curling and tugging in Pete’s soft black hair, gently pushing Pete further down on his rock hard cock and shit, he just did something…something with his tongue that sent a shot of electricity up Ryan’s back and he couldn’t stop a throaty moan escaping his lips. Watching Pete bobbing up and down was so much sexier that Ryan could have fathomed. He hollowed out his cheeks and sucked harder, Ryan trying hard not to buck too hard into his mouth but he could feel the pressure building in his hips.
“Fuck…Pete…so close…” he choked out breathlessly, feeling beads of sweat building on his forehead. Whatever happened next was insane, so amazingly wonderfully good and hot Ryan's whole body tensed up and he was shaking in anticipation.
Ryan exploded, arching off the car seat into Pete’s mouth and riding out the best orgasm he had probably ever had, biting down hard into his bottom lip and spilling equally hard into Pete’s mouth. He moved to sit up while Pete slid off him and they both smiled, Pete wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve and stretching to wipe it on Ryan’s face.
“Ew, you fucking weirdo!” Ryan barked and held Pete’s arm away fro his face.
“Come on, taste it Ryro,” Pete grinned goofily. “Open your mouth and close your eyes and you will get a big surprise!”
“Dirty bastard,” Ryan hissed and Pete shifted so he was lying on top of Ryan.
“What do you think would happen if we were found?” he asked Ryan who shrugged.
“Who knows,” he said. “But can we not stick around to find out?”
“Anything you want princess,” Pete placed a chaste and not-so-tasty - ‘fucking EW!’ ran through Ryan’s mind - kiss on Ryan’s lips and crawled into the front seat of the car.
“We can go to my house and you can return the favour.”
Ryan had no problem with that proposition.
“So this is what it’s like to be famous?” Ryan asked with a smirk and Pete laughed.
“Only if I think you’re hot,” he explained. “You can ask Patrick some time.”
“WHAT?!”
“Kidding! Just kidding!”