PatD fic -- Dreaming to the Twilight -- Spencer/Ryan -- NC-17
Title: Dreaming to the Twilight
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Spencer/Ryan
Summary: Spencer sometimes makes out with his best friend. It's not like it's a thing, and it never goes any further than kissing. Until it does.
Disclaimer: No they did not.
They make out sometimes. It's not like it's a thing. Ryan's always got one skanky girlfriend or another, and Spencer sometimes does, though he likes his girls prettier and cleaner than Ryan's.
But sometimes, they make out. Late at night when Ryan's staying over, he sometimes crawls into Spencer's bed and kisses him and it never goes any further than that, really. Spencer touches Ryan's hair and clings to his bony shoulders, but he never lets himself even think about touching Ryan down there, never lets himself think about Ryan touching him.
Sometimes after school when they're bored and there's nothing on TV, Ryan will turn towards him and they'll kiss hurried and frantic with Spencer's mom just upstairs and his sisters playing in the next room.
Sometimes they go months without it, and maybe Spencer misses it, maybe Spencer really likes making out with Ryan, but it's Ryan. It's his best friend and he can't feel that way about him. Not really. He knows Ryan doesn't feel that way about him, knows Ryan's just expanding his personal boundaries or challenging the heteronormative paradigm or something Ryan-like like that.
One week, though, Ryan's dad's on a crazy bender, one of the scariest ones Spencer's ever seen. Ryan escapes with a split lip and a sprained wrist, but it's a bad sprain and he can't even make his fingers hold down a single chord on his guitar and he's angry and so withdrawn that even Spencer's not sure he'll come out of it again.
Spencer lies awake in bed, listening to Ryan breathe. Ryan's not asleep either, but they'd stopped talking nearly an hour ago. Finally Spencer just says what he's wanted to since the night began, which is, "Get up here, ass face."
Ryan's breathing stops.
"Seriously. Sleeping on the floor all the time's going to give you fucking scoliosis."
Ryan breathes out a soft laugh, and Spencer half expects a lecture on the true causes of scoliosis, but instead of arguing, Ryan just climbs into Spencer's bed. He's moving slowly and Spencer knows he must have bruises beneath his clothes that he hasn't let anyone see.
Ryan stays on the very edge of the mattress, lying there stiffly until Spencer sighs and pulls him in towards the middle of his bed. It's a twin so there's no room for two people, really, unless they're facing and wrapped up together. Ryan cradles his sprained left wrist against Spencer's chest and lets Spencer hold him, breathes shakily against Spencer's shoulder.
Spencer doesn't know what to say. There really isn't anything he can say that he hasn't said a million times before: I hate him so bad for what he does to you. You can come live with us you know my mom would take you in. I wish you could hate him the way I hate him and not feel guilty and just walk away.
There's nothing Spencer can say so he kisses Ryan's mouth and Ryan kisses him back. Ryan gasps softly when Spencer's thigh settles between his legs, and Spencer lets himself want everything he's ever made himself not want. He kisses Ryan and strokes his hair and grinds against him, and when Ryan starts to shake he slips his hand into Ryan's boxers and jerks him off rough and fast.
"Spence," Ryan whispers after it's over, after the two of them have stopped shuddering and are just pressed together hot and sticky in the dark. "Spencer, we--"
"Shhh," Spencer says. He kisses Ryan again, a hard, close-mouthed kiss to shut him up. "It doesn't matter," he says. "It doesn't, it's just, it's us, OK? It's just us."
Ryan nods and Spencer expects him to pull away but he doesn't, actually burrows closer and falls asleep in the circle of Spencer's arms.
After that, they sometimes cut school and spend lazy afternoons getting naked and jerking each other off. Ryan's brows furrow in concentration when he strokes Spencer's cock, like it's something he has to practice and remember. Spencer pushes Ryan off him when he gets too serious about it, kisses him and rubs their cocks together and smiles as Ryan laughs, sated and happy, after he comes.
"You can," Spencer says one night when his parents and sisters are out of town. He doesn't say it out loud, but Ryan understands. His fingers tighten on Spencer's shoulders and he says, "Yeah. I. Um. How do you, on your stomach?"
"OK," Spencer whispers. He pulls away from Ryan, stretches out on his stomach and God, oh, God. He closes his eyes when he feels Ryan's fingers on the lowest dip of his spine.
"We should, do you have any slick?" Ryan asks.
Spencer shakes his head, hadn't thought that far head.
"I'll, um, I'll be right back," Ryan says. Spencer wraps his arms around his pillow and presses his face against it. He listens as Ryan leaves his room, hears Ryan in the bathroom across the hall. Spencer keeps his eyes closed and forces himself to breathe.
Ryan comes back less than a minute later, crawls onto the bed next to Spencer and rubs the small of his back. "Lift up," Ryan says softly, and Spencer's not quite sure what he's talking about. "Your hips," Ryan says after a moment. "Lift up."
Spencer lifts his hips, feels Ryan try to slide a pillow beneath them. He pushes up onto one elbow, helps to position the pillow, stretches out over it with his hips canted up and his cock rubbing hard between his belly and the sheets.
Ryan pushes his legs apart just a little bit more, slides his fingers along Spencer's crack and God, fuck, Spencer can't believe what he's doing, can't believe he's spread open like that and someone -- Ryan -- is actually touching his asshole. He can't believe he's not ashamed.
"Have you ever?" Ryan asks.
"Well, I mean," says Spencer. He shakes his head. "You?"
"Not, um, not like this," he says.
"Like how, then?''
"Just. You know. Girls. But not up the...just, like, the regular way."
"Oh," says Spencer. Ryan takes his fingers away, and then Spencer gets the thick plastic scent of Vaseline. When Ryan touches him again, his fingers are slick. He slides one a few inches into Spencer's hole, and Spencer's toes curl and he says, "Wait."
"Bad?" Ryan asks.
"Weird," Spencer admits. "Just. I don't know. Wiggle it, maybe?"
Ryan wiggles his finger a little bit, and that makes Spencer feel less like he's being invaded by something he needs to push out. He takes a deep breath and kind of feels himself relaxing, so he says, "OK. You can. I don't know. Move it?"
Ryan pulls his finger back, then slides it in. It still feels really weird, but there's a current of really good beneath the weird that makes Spencer's cock twitch a little bit.
"OK?" Ryan asks, working his finger in and out of Spencer's ass in a gentle rhythm.
"Yeah," says Spencer. "You can. I mean. I think that it'll be OK if you just."
"Yeah," says Ryan. "Yeah, OK." He takes his finger out and Spencer breathes deeply and then feels Ryan lean over him, brace his left hand near Spencer's shoulder as he lines his cock up with the other.
The tip of Ryan's cock is flat and broad and Spencer feels like he's spreading, spreading, opening too far as Ryan pushes into him. He bites his lower lip and tries to just grit his way through it. The head of Ryan's cock pops in, and Spencer lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Are you?" Ryan asks. "I mean, is that?"
"Just," Spencer whispers. The muscles in his lower back are starting to cramp up. "Yeah, just. Slow, OK?"
Ryan slides in bit by bit, pulls back sometimes before sliding in even further. Every time Spencer thinks he's got to be all the way in, Ryan slides in even more.
"Fuck, you've got a big cock," Spencer moans. He says it just as an observation, really, but Ryan's hips stutter forward and he says, "You like that?"
Spencer swallows hard. Apparently he just initiated sex talk, and really, he's never felt less sexy in his entire life. His stomach and back are cramped and his hole feels stretched and a little like it's burning and Ryan's too deep inside him.
"Can I?" he asks. "Just. Like, a minute. Can you just stay?"
Ryan stretches out over him, bites the nape of Spencer's neck. "Yeah," he says. He circles his hips, grinds down against Spencer's ass. It moves his cock a little bit, but not much and it's not bad. "You're really fucking tight."
Spencer breathes deeply. It's hard to keep his breath even and slow when it hurts like it does, but he doesn't want Ryan to know how bad it is. After what's probably closer to five minutes than to one, Spencer says, "OK."
"Yeah?" Ryan asks, kissing Spencer's jaw just below his ear.
"Yeah."
Ryan pushes up onto his hands and Spencer sort of misses the weight and the heat of Ryan against his back. Ryan's hips begin to rock and Spencer bites his lip. It hurts a little bit, but his muscles have mostly stopped cramping and he thinks he's getting used to the stretch.
He closes his eyes and grips the sheets in his hands, tries not to think about how many girls Ryan's fucked, tries not to think about how he learned the way to roll his hips just right. It's not that it's stopped hurting, because it hasn't, it's just that it's also starting to feel good. Every time Ryan's cock slides, in Spencer kind of wants to cry because it feels so perfect.
"Please," he whispers. He doesn't even know what he's asking for. His entire body is starting to tingle, his mind slipping away into instinct as he ruts back against Ryan. "Please, Ryan, God."
"Shhh," Ryan murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of Spencer's spine.
"Please," Spencer gasps.
"It's OK," Ryan tells him. "I got you, Spence. I got you. Feel so good."
Spencer's cock is getting hard again, and he works a hand beneath himself so he can fuck against that instead of the sheets. Above him Ryan is panting and shuddering, bites at Spencer's shoulder and says, "I can't, I need to."
"Do it," Spencer tells him. "Want you to."
Ryan drops his head down, starts jerking his hips harder and faster. The tiny jabs of pain make Spencer's toes curl, make it that much better. Then Ryan cries out and Spencer can feel it, can actually feel Ryan's come spurting inside him. It's so fucking dirty and so fucking hot, and he muffles his cries in the pillow as he jerks his own hips and comes over the sheets and his belly and his hand.
Ryan doesn't say anything, just presses a kiss to Spencer's temple and pulls out slowly. Spencer grimaces and rolls onto his back.
"Jesus, Spence," Ryan whispers.
Spencer closes his eyes. He can't look at Ryan, can't see what's he probably sure is uncertainty or pity in Ryan's eyes.
"Jesus, that was," Ryan says. He slips his hand between Spencer's legs and Spencer's so exhausted and boneless that he can't even twist away when Ryan's fingers find his stretched, used hole and dip inside. He takes Spencer's hand, then, guides it down. "Feel that," he says. "Fuck, looks so fucking hot, Spence."
Spencer's fingers slide across the puffy, swollen skin of his ass. He damp and sticky and he knows half of it is the lube and half of it is Ryan's come leaking out of him, and he feels so dirty and so good and sort of in awe of what they just did.
"Hey," says Ryan. He kisses Spencer gently on the mouth. "Hey, what, are you? Are you OK?"
Spencer's shaking but he doesn't know how to stop it. He nods. "I'm fine."
Ryan doesn't believe him, he can tell, but he doesn't argue, either. He says, "Come here," and even though they're both sticky and too hot, Spencer rolls into Ryan's arms and lets Ryan kiss him until he falls asleep.
Never See the Sky the Same Way
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Spencer/Ryan
Summary: Spencer sometimes makes out with his best friend. It's not like it's a thing, and it never goes any further than kissing. Until it does.
Disclaimer: No they did not.
They make out sometimes. It's not like it's a thing. Ryan's always got one skanky girlfriend or another, and Spencer sometimes does, though he likes his girls prettier and cleaner than Ryan's.
But sometimes, they make out. Late at night when Ryan's staying over, he sometimes crawls into Spencer's bed and kisses him and it never goes any further than that, really. Spencer touches Ryan's hair and clings to his bony shoulders, but he never lets himself even think about touching Ryan down there, never lets himself think about Ryan touching him.
Sometimes after school when they're bored and there's nothing on TV, Ryan will turn towards him and they'll kiss hurried and frantic with Spencer's mom just upstairs and his sisters playing in the next room.
Sometimes they go months without it, and maybe Spencer misses it, maybe Spencer really likes making out with Ryan, but it's Ryan. It's his best friend and he can't feel that way about him. Not really. He knows Ryan doesn't feel that way about him, knows Ryan's just expanding his personal boundaries or challenging the heteronormative paradigm or something Ryan-like like that.
One week, though, Ryan's dad's on a crazy bender, one of the scariest ones Spencer's ever seen. Ryan escapes with a split lip and a sprained wrist, but it's a bad sprain and he can't even make his fingers hold down a single chord on his guitar and he's angry and so withdrawn that even Spencer's not sure he'll come out of it again.
Spencer lies awake in bed, listening to Ryan breathe. Ryan's not asleep either, but they'd stopped talking nearly an hour ago. Finally Spencer just says what he's wanted to since the night began, which is, "Get up here, ass face."
Ryan's breathing stops.
"Seriously. Sleeping on the floor all the time's going to give you fucking scoliosis."
Ryan breathes out a soft laugh, and Spencer half expects a lecture on the true causes of scoliosis, but instead of arguing, Ryan just climbs into Spencer's bed. He's moving slowly and Spencer knows he must have bruises beneath his clothes that he hasn't let anyone see.
Ryan stays on the very edge of the mattress, lying there stiffly until Spencer sighs and pulls him in towards the middle of his bed. It's a twin so there's no room for two people, really, unless they're facing and wrapped up together. Ryan cradles his sprained left wrist against Spencer's chest and lets Spencer hold him, breathes shakily against Spencer's shoulder.
Spencer doesn't know what to say. There really isn't anything he can say that he hasn't said a million times before: I hate him so bad for what he does to you. You can come live with us you know my mom would take you in. I wish you could hate him the way I hate him and not feel guilty and just walk away.
There's nothing Spencer can say so he kisses Ryan's mouth and Ryan kisses him back. Ryan gasps softly when Spencer's thigh settles between his legs, and Spencer lets himself want everything he's ever made himself not want. He kisses Ryan and strokes his hair and grinds against him, and when Ryan starts to shake he slips his hand into Ryan's boxers and jerks him off rough and fast.
"Spence," Ryan whispers after it's over, after the two of them have stopped shuddering and are just pressed together hot and sticky in the dark. "Spencer, we--"
"Shhh," Spencer says. He kisses Ryan again, a hard, close-mouthed kiss to shut him up. "It doesn't matter," he says. "It doesn't, it's just, it's us, OK? It's just us."
Ryan nods and Spencer expects him to pull away but he doesn't, actually burrows closer and falls asleep in the circle of Spencer's arms.
After that, they sometimes cut school and spend lazy afternoons getting naked and jerking each other off. Ryan's brows furrow in concentration when he strokes Spencer's cock, like it's something he has to practice and remember. Spencer pushes Ryan off him when he gets too serious about it, kisses him and rubs their cocks together and smiles as Ryan laughs, sated and happy, after he comes.
"You can," Spencer says one night when his parents and sisters are out of town. He doesn't say it out loud, but Ryan understands. His fingers tighten on Spencer's shoulders and he says, "Yeah. I. Um. How do you, on your stomach?"
"OK," Spencer whispers. He pulls away from Ryan, stretches out on his stomach and God, oh, God. He closes his eyes when he feels Ryan's fingers on the lowest dip of his spine.
"We should, do you have any slick?" Ryan asks.
Spencer shakes his head, hadn't thought that far head.
"I'll, um, I'll be right back," Ryan says. Spencer wraps his arms around his pillow and presses his face against it. He listens as Ryan leaves his room, hears Ryan in the bathroom across the hall. Spencer keeps his eyes closed and forces himself to breathe.
Ryan comes back less than a minute later, crawls onto the bed next to Spencer and rubs the small of his back. "Lift up," Ryan says softly, and Spencer's not quite sure what he's talking about. "Your hips," Ryan says after a moment. "Lift up."
Spencer lifts his hips, feels Ryan try to slide a pillow beneath them. He pushes up onto one elbow, helps to position the pillow, stretches out over it with his hips canted up and his cock rubbing hard between his belly and the sheets.
Ryan pushes his legs apart just a little bit more, slides his fingers along Spencer's crack and God, fuck, Spencer can't believe what he's doing, can't believe he's spread open like that and someone -- Ryan -- is actually touching his asshole. He can't believe he's not ashamed.
"Have you ever?" Ryan asks.
"Well, I mean," says Spencer. He shakes his head. "You?"
"Not, um, not like this," he says.
"Like how, then?''
"Just. You know. Girls. But not up the...just, like, the regular way."
"Oh," says Spencer. Ryan takes his fingers away, and then Spencer gets the thick plastic scent of Vaseline. When Ryan touches him again, his fingers are slick. He slides one a few inches into Spencer's hole, and Spencer's toes curl and he says, "Wait."
"Bad?" Ryan asks.
"Weird," Spencer admits. "Just. I don't know. Wiggle it, maybe?"
Ryan wiggles his finger a little bit, and that makes Spencer feel less like he's being invaded by something he needs to push out. He takes a deep breath and kind of feels himself relaxing, so he says, "OK. You can. I don't know. Move it?"
Ryan pulls his finger back, then slides it in. It still feels really weird, but there's a current of really good beneath the weird that makes Spencer's cock twitch a little bit.
"OK?" Ryan asks, working his finger in and out of Spencer's ass in a gentle rhythm.
"Yeah," says Spencer. "You can. I mean. I think that it'll be OK if you just."
"Yeah," says Ryan. "Yeah, OK." He takes his finger out and Spencer breathes deeply and then feels Ryan lean over him, brace his left hand near Spencer's shoulder as he lines his cock up with the other.
The tip of Ryan's cock is flat and broad and Spencer feels like he's spreading, spreading, opening too far as Ryan pushes into him. He bites his lower lip and tries to just grit his way through it. The head of Ryan's cock pops in, and Spencer lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Are you?" Ryan asks. "I mean, is that?"
"Just," Spencer whispers. The muscles in his lower back are starting to cramp up. "Yeah, just. Slow, OK?"
Ryan slides in bit by bit, pulls back sometimes before sliding in even further. Every time Spencer thinks he's got to be all the way in, Ryan slides in even more.
"Fuck, you've got a big cock," Spencer moans. He says it just as an observation, really, but Ryan's hips stutter forward and he says, "You like that?"
Spencer swallows hard. Apparently he just initiated sex talk, and really, he's never felt less sexy in his entire life. His stomach and back are cramped and his hole feels stretched and a little like it's burning and Ryan's too deep inside him.
"Can I?" he asks. "Just. Like, a minute. Can you just stay?"
Ryan stretches out over him, bites the nape of Spencer's neck. "Yeah," he says. He circles his hips, grinds down against Spencer's ass. It moves his cock a little bit, but not much and it's not bad. "You're really fucking tight."
Spencer breathes deeply. It's hard to keep his breath even and slow when it hurts like it does, but he doesn't want Ryan to know how bad it is. After what's probably closer to five minutes than to one, Spencer says, "OK."
"Yeah?" Ryan asks, kissing Spencer's jaw just below his ear.
"Yeah."
Ryan pushes up onto his hands and Spencer sort of misses the weight and the heat of Ryan against his back. Ryan's hips begin to rock and Spencer bites his lip. It hurts a little bit, but his muscles have mostly stopped cramping and he thinks he's getting used to the stretch.
He closes his eyes and grips the sheets in his hands, tries not to think about how many girls Ryan's fucked, tries not to think about how he learned the way to roll his hips just right. It's not that it's stopped hurting, because it hasn't, it's just that it's also starting to feel good. Every time Ryan's cock slides, in Spencer kind of wants to cry because it feels so perfect.
"Please," he whispers. He doesn't even know what he's asking for. His entire body is starting to tingle, his mind slipping away into instinct as he ruts back against Ryan. "Please, Ryan, God."
"Shhh," Ryan murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of Spencer's spine.
"Please," Spencer gasps.
"It's OK," Ryan tells him. "I got you, Spence. I got you. Feel so good."
Spencer's cock is getting hard again, and he works a hand beneath himself so he can fuck against that instead of the sheets. Above him Ryan is panting and shuddering, bites at Spencer's shoulder and says, "I can't, I need to."
"Do it," Spencer tells him. "Want you to."
Ryan drops his head down, starts jerking his hips harder and faster. The tiny jabs of pain make Spencer's toes curl, make it that much better. Then Ryan cries out and Spencer can feel it, can actually feel Ryan's come spurting inside him. It's so fucking dirty and so fucking hot, and he muffles his cries in the pillow as he jerks his own hips and comes over the sheets and his belly and his hand.
Ryan doesn't say anything, just presses a kiss to Spencer's temple and pulls out slowly. Spencer grimaces and rolls onto his back.
"Jesus, Spence," Ryan whispers.
Spencer closes his eyes. He can't look at Ryan, can't see what's he probably sure is uncertainty or pity in Ryan's eyes.
"Jesus, that was," Ryan says. He slips his hand between Spencer's legs and Spencer's so exhausted and boneless that he can't even twist away when Ryan's fingers find his stretched, used hole and dip inside. He takes Spencer's hand, then, guides it down. "Feel that," he says. "Fuck, looks so fucking hot, Spence."
Spencer's fingers slide across the puffy, swollen skin of his ass. He damp and sticky and he knows half of it is the lube and half of it is Ryan's come leaking out of him, and he feels so dirty and so good and sort of in awe of what they just did.
"Hey," says Ryan. He kisses Spencer gently on the mouth. "Hey, what, are you? Are you OK?"
Spencer's shaking but he doesn't know how to stop it. He nods. "I'm fine."
Ryan doesn't believe him, he can tell, but he doesn't argue, either. He says, "Come here," and even though they're both sticky and too hot, Spencer rolls into Ryan's arms and lets Ryan kiss him until he falls asleep.
Never See the Sky the Same Way