FIC: "Ask," Spencer/Ryan, NC17
You know, sometimes I just want to read about people getting spanked. Anyone else feel that way?
Yeah, that's what I thought.
Title: Ask
Pairing: Spencer/Ryan
Rating: NC17
Summary: "Please, I would like a spanking," Ryan says. "Asshole."
Warnings: Obvious warning is obvious, but spanking
Notes: Seriously, I got a jones for shamelessly fluffy and totally SSC Spencer/Ryan BDSM porn, and I know that there are at least a couple of other people who had a similar desire, so. *hands* Thanks to anoneknewmoose and lyo for making sure I wasn't too faily. 2500 words.
***
"Wait, wait," Ryan says, laughing into Spencer's mouth as he twists away from Spencer's hands on his belt buckle.
Spencer makes a frustrated noise and grabs for him again, because as nice as Ryan looks walking away from him to go dig through the closet, he'd look better naked in their bed. Preferably with Spencer on top of him. Or under him. Spencer isn't really picky. "Ryan, c'mon."
"Just a second!" He continues to paw through the shit piled on the closet shelves, obviously looking for something.
Sighing, Spencer drops his hands to the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it off, and when the fabric has cleared his face, Ryan is standing in front of him, offering Spencer a neat coil of cotton rope.
"Oh," Spencer says, taking the rope and turning it over in his hands, checking it over to make sure it's as he left it-wash-soft but sturdy, one end looped around in a clove hitch-as Ryan quickly shrugs out of his clothes, draping his shirt over the bench at the foot of the bed, stepping out of his pants.
"Oh," Ryan agrees when he's standing there naked. He smiles as he offers Spencer his hands.
Spencer reaches for him, the hand holding the rope at the small of Ryan's back and drawing him close, the other curling around the back of his neck and tilting his head up for a kiss. Ryan's arms are trapped between them, his hands splayed warm against Spencer's chest.
"Hey," Ryan murmurs into Spencer's mouth, tapping his fingers against Spencer's ribs.
Spencer smiles. "Just a second," he echoes, taking a small step back. He wraps his fingers around one of Ryan's skinny wrists, brings it to his lips and kisses the pulse point there. "You know your safeword."
"Yes," Ryan says, even though Spencer wasn't asking; he doesn't have to look to know that Ryan's half-hard with anticipation, and he presses another smile against the inside of Ryan's other wrist.
"Good," he says. He picks the knot apart, shakes the rope free, and efficiently loops the doubled length around Ryan's wrists, cinching and knotting it securely in the center. He leans in and kisses Ryan's mouth again as he tests the knot and makes sure it's not tied too tight. "On the bed, elbows and knees."
Too eager to be graceful, Ryan scrambles onto the bed and arranges himself on the sheets, thighs apart, bound wrists out in front of him so his fingertips brush the headboard. Spencer smiles again, indulgent, and kneels up on the bed next to him, splays a hand between Ryan's shoulders and gently presses him down farther as Spencer secures the looped end of the rope to the hook installed on the back of the headboard. Ryan squirms a little, but he stays in place, sinks into the position and holds it when Spencer backs off.
Spencer moves on the bed, walks on his knees until he's behind Ryan and looking up the long length of his spine; Ryan's breathing is shallow and quick with excitement already, even though they've only barely started. He touches Ryan's slender calf lightly and is gratified by Ryan's sharp intake of breath.
"Wider," he says, tapping the inside of Ryan's knee with two fingers.
Ryan shifts his weight and spreads his thighs a little more, inching his knees farther apart as Spencer repeats himself, until Ryan's legs are spread so wide that he almost falls over. But Spencer catches him, steadies him with a hand on the outside of his thigh, holds him there until he stops swaying.
"Comfortable?" Spencer asks.
Head lolling between his arms, Ryan wiggles his fingers, rotates his wrists, and shifts his weight from side to side, testing. "Yes," he says, finally.
"Can you stay like this?" He drags his fingernails over the back of Ryan's thigh.
Ryan almost-whimpers as he nods.
"What was that?"
"Yes, Spencer."
"Good," Spencer says again. "Now. What do you want?"
"Whatever you want. Anything," Ryan says, voice low, not even trying to disguise the eagerness in his tone. He arches his back a little more, offering himself up.
Spencer slaps the pale curve of Ryan's ass hard, the crack of the stroke emphatic and loud. "I asked what you want."
Ryan shudders and moans, but he doesn't answer, so Spencer digs his nails into the red handprint he just left on Ryan's ass, which just makes Ryan moan again and push back into it, gasping as Spencer scratches over the flushed skin.
"Nuh-uh," Spencer says, pulling his hand back. "None of that. You have to ask for it, Ryan."
Groaning, mashing his forehead against the sheets, Ryan grits out, "Fucking asshole tease."
Spencer rolls his eyes. He knows exactly what Ryan's trying to do, and it isn't going to work. He'll give Ryan anything that Ryan wants, so long as Ryan asks him for it, but if Ryan doesn't ask, then he gets nothing. That's always been the way they've done this; Spencer knows he just has to wait and not let Ryan goad him into punishing him.
It takes a full minute of cussing Spencer out and rocking his hips back, searching futilely for touch, but Ryan eventually settles. Half-hiding his face against his bicep, he murmurs, "Please."
"Please what?" Spencer says. He skims a hand over Ryan's lower back, traces his spine down to the top of his crease, keeping his touch light and gentle, teasing just like Ryan accused him of.
"Please, I would like a spanking," Ryan says. "Asshole."
Spencer laughs and leans in to kiss Ryan's shoulder. "Do you want the paddle or my hand?" he asks.
"God." Ryan shivers, his breath sticking audibly in his throat. "Your hand. Please."
Three pleases in a row. Spencer smirks. "You know what that means," he says, and that's all the warning he gives before laying another sharp smack on Ryan's ass, raising another hand-print on the opposite side, giving Ryan a matched set.
He waits a beat, and Ryan says, "Two," his voice low with both arousal and amusement. He turns his head a little, not quite looking back at Spencer over his shoulder. Spencer can see that he's grinning.
"Brat," Spencer says, and lands the third stroke low on the tender curve where Ryan's ass meets his thigh.
Ryan's leg spasms, twitching away from the blow, and he wobbles a little as his knee slides on the sheets. "Sorry, sorry, three," he moans as he scrambles back up, the muscles in his forearms standing out with how hard he's gripping the ropes, trying to regain his balance.
"You're really not," Spencer states, and hits him again.
"I-fuck, four-I am, I really am."
"Fine," Spencer says. "Just count."
Ryan nods again, head dropping forward to rest against his forearms. The bunched muscles of his shoulders shift under his skin as he forces himself to relax, anticipating the next stroke; five comes out breathy but even, focused, and Spencer knows that, all the attitude aside, this is what Ryan wants.
They settle into a steady rhythm, Spencer listening to the noisy sound of Ryan's breathing and the timbre of Ryan's voice as he counts. The cadence of it is almost hypnotic, and it would be easy for both of them to get lost in it, but Spencer pauses as Ryan moans out twenty, looking down at the hot flush of Ryan's skin that matches the tingle in his palm.
"Ryan?" he asks.
"Don't stop," Ryan says after a beat, clipped and tense at the disruption in the rhythm, and twenty-one comes out high and gratified as Ryan rocks back into it.
Spencer's hand aches by the time they hit thirty, but he doesn't stop until Ryan's voice breaks on thirty-four. He reaches out and grazes the cool fingers of his left hand over Ryan's cherry-red skin as he shakes out the sting in his right, and Ryan cries out, his whole body trembling at the barest touch of Spencer's hand.
"Shh, you're fine," Spencer soothes, sliding his hand around to Ryan's front to curl around his cock, which is almost as hot as Ryan's ass and wet at the tip; it's awkward for Spencer to do this with his left hand, but Ryan's so close that it won't take much. "You can come; you've earned it."
Ryan makes a tiny broken noise and shifts, yanking at the ropes until the headboard creaks, hips twitching away from Spencer's hand. "No," he moans.
Spencer frowns. "Ryan-"
"Want you in me when I come," Ryan says, and shudders hard, like the very thought of it has him riding the edge.
"Christ," Spencer bites out, and lets go of Ryan's dick. "Fuck, okay, yes." He scrambles to the edge of the bed, resting his hand reassuringly on Ryan's shoulder as he reaches for the lube on the nightstand.
Spencer kicks off his jeans and settles behind Ryan again, knees set inside Ryan's, bracketed by Ryan's legs. He wets his fingers, fast and sloppy, and gets Ryan ready as quickly as he can, breathing deeply to try and rein in his own arousal as he fingers Ryan open. And Ryan isn't helping on that front; Ryan can't or won't hold back his impatient little sounds, asking for more and now and Spencer in between wordless moans as Spencer shallowly thrusts his fingers in and out.
Ryan whimpers when Spencer slides his fingers free, pushing back, chasing the fullness of Spencer's fingers inside him. "Be still," Spencer says. He puts one hand on Ryan's hip to hold him steady as he lines himself up-Ryan hisses at Spencer's palm just touching the curve of his ass-and pushes in steadily, not stopping until his thighs are pressed tight against Ryan's fever-hot skin, circling his hips until Ryan lets out a cry that's almost a wail.
He yanks on the ropes again, his knuckles gone white with the force of his grip. "Spencer, please," he begs.
Folding forward to press a kiss between Ryan's shoulder blades, Spencer reaches around to take Ryan in hand again, groaning at Ryan's full-body shiver when Spencer slicks his thumb over the head. He gives Ryan a short, careful thrust that pushes Ryan's cock into his fist. "Come on, I've got you," he says as Ryan cries out again. It only takes a few strokes before Ryan shakes apart, hips jerking as he comes, moaning desperately when Spencer grinds against his sore ass, trying to draw out his orgasm as much as possible.
Ryan goes lax and pliant after he comes, so much that his knees slip on the sheets; Spencer is pretty sure that he's only thing holding Ryan up. He winces as he lets go his death-grip on the ropes and then sighs as he melts into the mattress, wrung out and sated.
But Spencer hasn't come yet, and the heat of Ryan's skin against his thighs is just as maddening as the clench of Ryan's ass around his cock. He lets go of Ryan's cock and takes hold of Ryan's other hip, fingers trailing a smear of Ryan's come across his skin. He looks down as he pulls almost all the way out, groaning at the sight of Ryan stretched tight around his dick, at the crimson of his skin, just beginning to shade into bruises.
He rocks his hips forward again, sinking all the way in. He does it again and again, almost hypnotized by his cock disappearing inside Ryan's ass, but after a handful of thrusts Ryan makes a noise that has a distinct note of discomfort under the pleasure, like his post-orgasm high is just beginning to fade. He doesn't ask Spencer to stop, but his thighs tense up a little; Spencer pauses mid-thrust.
"Don't have to stop," Ryan says, his voice thick and low.
"I know," Spencer says, and carefully pulls out. He sits back on his heels and wraps a hand around his cock, still staring at the deep red of Ryan's ass as he strokes himself. Ryan's knees slide further down the bed, still splayed wide; he really can't hold himself up anymore without Spencer's cock inside him, and that thought makes Spencer bite his lip and speed up his strokes, the lube making the slide fast and easy. It's fucking filthy and sounds totally obscene, but he doesn't care, not when he can feel his orgasm building in his fingertips, the heat of it centering in his belly. "Fuck, I love you like this."
Nodding mindlessly, rubbing his face against the sheets, Ryan gravels out, "God, Spencer," and Spencer chokes out a cry and comes all over Ryan's ass, the white shine of it standing out against the dark flush of Ryan's skin. He gasps for air as he jerks himself through it, the last spurts of come just adding to the mess on his hand.
Ryan says his name again; Spencer reaches out and brushes his fingers over the back of Ryan's thigh for answer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from Ryan's ass but not touching the abused skin.
"Messy," Ryan says softly, arching slightly into the touch.
"Yeah, you are," Spencer says, gently tracing one of the lines of come striping Ryan's ass with a cool fingertip, grinning when Ryan gasps at the sensation. He looks at the smear of come on his finger and then brings it to his mouth, licking it clean, and then reaches down again. Then he thinks better of it and bends down to run his tongue over another of the wet streaks on Ryan's skin.
Ryan's breath catches again, and then he moans dazedly, trembling with the effort of holding very still as Spencer cleans him up with careful strokes of his tongue. "Oh, fuck," he breathes. "Spence-"
"Shh," Spencer says, and blows cool air over his skin just to make him moan again.
When Ryan's skin is clean, Spencer crawls up the bed, kissing Ryan's temple and then going for the ropes. He unhooks Ryan from the headboard and then coaxes him onto his side, shushing Ryan's groan when Spencer slowly lowers his arms. Ryan holds his bound wrists in front of his heart as Spencer picks the ropes apart.
"Seriously?" Spencer says at how hard it is to undo the knots, tight as they are from Ryan's tugging on the ropes, and with Spencer's fingers still sticky with lube.
Ryan smiles a little. "Sorry," he says, and then sighs in pleasure as Spencer finally gets the knot untied.
"No, you're not," Spencer says, and leans in to kiss Ryan lightly as he gently massages the indentations the ropes left on one of Ryan's wrists. "Shower now."
"You can," Ryan says, yawning. "I'm okay."
Spencer rolls his eyes and reaches down to palm the hot curve of Ryan's ass. "Cool shower and Advil," Spencer insists when Ryan yelps in pain. "We're both fucking dirty. Come on."
Ryan makes a good attempt at a glare, but then he shrugs and offers Spencer his other wrist. "In a minute?"
Smiling, Spencer turns Ryan's wrist so he can press another kiss against the pulse point. "Yeah, okay."
***
Yeah, that's what I thought.
Title: Ask
Pairing: Spencer/Ryan
Rating: NC17
Summary: "Please, I would like a spanking," Ryan says. "Asshole."
Warnings: Obvious warning is obvious, but spanking
Notes: Seriously, I got a jones for shamelessly fluffy and totally SSC Spencer/Ryan BDSM porn, and I know that there are at least a couple of other people who had a similar desire, so. *hands* Thanks to anoneknewmoose and lyo for making sure I wasn't too faily. 2500 words.
***
"Wait, wait," Ryan says, laughing into Spencer's mouth as he twists away from Spencer's hands on his belt buckle.
Spencer makes a frustrated noise and grabs for him again, because as nice as Ryan looks walking away from him to go dig through the closet, he'd look better naked in their bed. Preferably with Spencer on top of him. Or under him. Spencer isn't really picky. "Ryan, c'mon."
"Just a second!" He continues to paw through the shit piled on the closet shelves, obviously looking for something.
Sighing, Spencer drops his hands to the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it off, and when the fabric has cleared his face, Ryan is standing in front of him, offering Spencer a neat coil of cotton rope.
"Oh," Spencer says, taking the rope and turning it over in his hands, checking it over to make sure it's as he left it-wash-soft but sturdy, one end looped around in a clove hitch-as Ryan quickly shrugs out of his clothes, draping his shirt over the bench at the foot of the bed, stepping out of his pants.
"Oh," Ryan agrees when he's standing there naked. He smiles as he offers Spencer his hands.
Spencer reaches for him, the hand holding the rope at the small of Ryan's back and drawing him close, the other curling around the back of his neck and tilting his head up for a kiss. Ryan's arms are trapped between them, his hands splayed warm against Spencer's chest.
"Hey," Ryan murmurs into Spencer's mouth, tapping his fingers against Spencer's ribs.
Spencer smiles. "Just a second," he echoes, taking a small step back. He wraps his fingers around one of Ryan's skinny wrists, brings it to his lips and kisses the pulse point there. "You know your safeword."
"Yes," Ryan says, even though Spencer wasn't asking; he doesn't have to look to know that Ryan's half-hard with anticipation, and he presses another smile against the inside of Ryan's other wrist.
"Good," he says. He picks the knot apart, shakes the rope free, and efficiently loops the doubled length around Ryan's wrists, cinching and knotting it securely in the center. He leans in and kisses Ryan's mouth again as he tests the knot and makes sure it's not tied too tight. "On the bed, elbows and knees."
Too eager to be graceful, Ryan scrambles onto the bed and arranges himself on the sheets, thighs apart, bound wrists out in front of him so his fingertips brush the headboard. Spencer smiles again, indulgent, and kneels up on the bed next to him, splays a hand between Ryan's shoulders and gently presses him down farther as Spencer secures the looped end of the rope to the hook installed on the back of the headboard. Ryan squirms a little, but he stays in place, sinks into the position and holds it when Spencer backs off.
Spencer moves on the bed, walks on his knees until he's behind Ryan and looking up the long length of his spine; Ryan's breathing is shallow and quick with excitement already, even though they've only barely started. He touches Ryan's slender calf lightly and is gratified by Ryan's sharp intake of breath.
"Wider," he says, tapping the inside of Ryan's knee with two fingers.
Ryan shifts his weight and spreads his thighs a little more, inching his knees farther apart as Spencer repeats himself, until Ryan's legs are spread so wide that he almost falls over. But Spencer catches him, steadies him with a hand on the outside of his thigh, holds him there until he stops swaying.
"Comfortable?" Spencer asks.
Head lolling between his arms, Ryan wiggles his fingers, rotates his wrists, and shifts his weight from side to side, testing. "Yes," he says, finally.
"Can you stay like this?" He drags his fingernails over the back of Ryan's thigh.
Ryan almost-whimpers as he nods.
"What was that?"
"Yes, Spencer."
"Good," Spencer says again. "Now. What do you want?"
"Whatever you want. Anything," Ryan says, voice low, not even trying to disguise the eagerness in his tone. He arches his back a little more, offering himself up.
Spencer slaps the pale curve of Ryan's ass hard, the crack of the stroke emphatic and loud. "I asked what you want."
Ryan shudders and moans, but he doesn't answer, so Spencer digs his nails into the red handprint he just left on Ryan's ass, which just makes Ryan moan again and push back into it, gasping as Spencer scratches over the flushed skin.
"Nuh-uh," Spencer says, pulling his hand back. "None of that. You have to ask for it, Ryan."
Groaning, mashing his forehead against the sheets, Ryan grits out, "Fucking asshole tease."
Spencer rolls his eyes. He knows exactly what Ryan's trying to do, and it isn't going to work. He'll give Ryan anything that Ryan wants, so long as Ryan asks him for it, but if Ryan doesn't ask, then he gets nothing. That's always been the way they've done this; Spencer knows he just has to wait and not let Ryan goad him into punishing him.
It takes a full minute of cussing Spencer out and rocking his hips back, searching futilely for touch, but Ryan eventually settles. Half-hiding his face against his bicep, he murmurs, "Please."
"Please what?" Spencer says. He skims a hand over Ryan's lower back, traces his spine down to the top of his crease, keeping his touch light and gentle, teasing just like Ryan accused him of.
"Please, I would like a spanking," Ryan says. "Asshole."
Spencer laughs and leans in to kiss Ryan's shoulder. "Do you want the paddle or my hand?" he asks.
"God." Ryan shivers, his breath sticking audibly in his throat. "Your hand. Please."
Three pleases in a row. Spencer smirks. "You know what that means," he says, and that's all the warning he gives before laying another sharp smack on Ryan's ass, raising another hand-print on the opposite side, giving Ryan a matched set.
He waits a beat, and Ryan says, "Two," his voice low with both arousal and amusement. He turns his head a little, not quite looking back at Spencer over his shoulder. Spencer can see that he's grinning.
"Brat," Spencer says, and lands the third stroke low on the tender curve where Ryan's ass meets his thigh.
Ryan's leg spasms, twitching away from the blow, and he wobbles a little as his knee slides on the sheets. "Sorry, sorry, three," he moans as he scrambles back up, the muscles in his forearms standing out with how hard he's gripping the ropes, trying to regain his balance.
"You're really not," Spencer states, and hits him again.
"I-fuck, four-I am, I really am."
"Fine," Spencer says. "Just count."
Ryan nods again, head dropping forward to rest against his forearms. The bunched muscles of his shoulders shift under his skin as he forces himself to relax, anticipating the next stroke; five comes out breathy but even, focused, and Spencer knows that, all the attitude aside, this is what Ryan wants.
They settle into a steady rhythm, Spencer listening to the noisy sound of Ryan's breathing and the timbre of Ryan's voice as he counts. The cadence of it is almost hypnotic, and it would be easy for both of them to get lost in it, but Spencer pauses as Ryan moans out twenty, looking down at the hot flush of Ryan's skin that matches the tingle in his palm.
"Ryan?" he asks.
"Don't stop," Ryan says after a beat, clipped and tense at the disruption in the rhythm, and twenty-one comes out high and gratified as Ryan rocks back into it.
Spencer's hand aches by the time they hit thirty, but he doesn't stop until Ryan's voice breaks on thirty-four. He reaches out and grazes the cool fingers of his left hand over Ryan's cherry-red skin as he shakes out the sting in his right, and Ryan cries out, his whole body trembling at the barest touch of Spencer's hand.
"Shh, you're fine," Spencer soothes, sliding his hand around to Ryan's front to curl around his cock, which is almost as hot as Ryan's ass and wet at the tip; it's awkward for Spencer to do this with his left hand, but Ryan's so close that it won't take much. "You can come; you've earned it."
Ryan makes a tiny broken noise and shifts, yanking at the ropes until the headboard creaks, hips twitching away from Spencer's hand. "No," he moans.
Spencer frowns. "Ryan-"
"Want you in me when I come," Ryan says, and shudders hard, like the very thought of it has him riding the edge.
"Christ," Spencer bites out, and lets go of Ryan's dick. "Fuck, okay, yes." He scrambles to the edge of the bed, resting his hand reassuringly on Ryan's shoulder as he reaches for the lube on the nightstand.
Spencer kicks off his jeans and settles behind Ryan again, knees set inside Ryan's, bracketed by Ryan's legs. He wets his fingers, fast and sloppy, and gets Ryan ready as quickly as he can, breathing deeply to try and rein in his own arousal as he fingers Ryan open. And Ryan isn't helping on that front; Ryan can't or won't hold back his impatient little sounds, asking for more and now and Spencer in between wordless moans as Spencer shallowly thrusts his fingers in and out.
Ryan whimpers when Spencer slides his fingers free, pushing back, chasing the fullness of Spencer's fingers inside him. "Be still," Spencer says. He puts one hand on Ryan's hip to hold him steady as he lines himself up-Ryan hisses at Spencer's palm just touching the curve of his ass-and pushes in steadily, not stopping until his thighs are pressed tight against Ryan's fever-hot skin, circling his hips until Ryan lets out a cry that's almost a wail.
He yanks on the ropes again, his knuckles gone white with the force of his grip. "Spencer, please," he begs.
Folding forward to press a kiss between Ryan's shoulder blades, Spencer reaches around to take Ryan in hand again, groaning at Ryan's full-body shiver when Spencer slicks his thumb over the head. He gives Ryan a short, careful thrust that pushes Ryan's cock into his fist. "Come on, I've got you," he says as Ryan cries out again. It only takes a few strokes before Ryan shakes apart, hips jerking as he comes, moaning desperately when Spencer grinds against his sore ass, trying to draw out his orgasm as much as possible.
Ryan goes lax and pliant after he comes, so much that his knees slip on the sheets; Spencer is pretty sure that he's only thing holding Ryan up. He winces as he lets go his death-grip on the ropes and then sighs as he melts into the mattress, wrung out and sated.
But Spencer hasn't come yet, and the heat of Ryan's skin against his thighs is just as maddening as the clench of Ryan's ass around his cock. He lets go of Ryan's cock and takes hold of Ryan's other hip, fingers trailing a smear of Ryan's come across his skin. He looks down as he pulls almost all the way out, groaning at the sight of Ryan stretched tight around his dick, at the crimson of his skin, just beginning to shade into bruises.
He rocks his hips forward again, sinking all the way in. He does it again and again, almost hypnotized by his cock disappearing inside Ryan's ass, but after a handful of thrusts Ryan makes a noise that has a distinct note of discomfort under the pleasure, like his post-orgasm high is just beginning to fade. He doesn't ask Spencer to stop, but his thighs tense up a little; Spencer pauses mid-thrust.
"Don't have to stop," Ryan says, his voice thick and low.
"I know," Spencer says, and carefully pulls out. He sits back on his heels and wraps a hand around his cock, still staring at the deep red of Ryan's ass as he strokes himself. Ryan's knees slide further down the bed, still splayed wide; he really can't hold himself up anymore without Spencer's cock inside him, and that thought makes Spencer bite his lip and speed up his strokes, the lube making the slide fast and easy. It's fucking filthy and sounds totally obscene, but he doesn't care, not when he can feel his orgasm building in his fingertips, the heat of it centering in his belly. "Fuck, I love you like this."
Nodding mindlessly, rubbing his face against the sheets, Ryan gravels out, "God, Spencer," and Spencer chokes out a cry and comes all over Ryan's ass, the white shine of it standing out against the dark flush of Ryan's skin. He gasps for air as he jerks himself through it, the last spurts of come just adding to the mess on his hand.
Ryan says his name again; Spencer reaches out and brushes his fingers over the back of Ryan's thigh for answer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from Ryan's ass but not touching the abused skin.
"Messy," Ryan says softly, arching slightly into the touch.
"Yeah, you are," Spencer says, gently tracing one of the lines of come striping Ryan's ass with a cool fingertip, grinning when Ryan gasps at the sensation. He looks at the smear of come on his finger and then brings it to his mouth, licking it clean, and then reaches down again. Then he thinks better of it and bends down to run his tongue over another of the wet streaks on Ryan's skin.
Ryan's breath catches again, and then he moans dazedly, trembling with the effort of holding very still as Spencer cleans him up with careful strokes of his tongue. "Oh, fuck," he breathes. "Spence-"
"Shh," Spencer says, and blows cool air over his skin just to make him moan again.
When Ryan's skin is clean, Spencer crawls up the bed, kissing Ryan's temple and then going for the ropes. He unhooks Ryan from the headboard and then coaxes him onto his side, shushing Ryan's groan when Spencer slowly lowers his arms. Ryan holds his bound wrists in front of his heart as Spencer picks the ropes apart.
"Seriously?" Spencer says at how hard it is to undo the knots, tight as they are from Ryan's tugging on the ropes, and with Spencer's fingers still sticky with lube.
Ryan smiles a little. "Sorry," he says, and then sighs in pleasure as Spencer finally gets the knot untied.
"No, you're not," Spencer says, and leans in to kiss Ryan lightly as he gently massages the indentations the ropes left on one of Ryan's wrists. "Shower now."
"You can," Ryan says, yawning. "I'm okay."
Spencer rolls his eyes and reaches down to palm the hot curve of Ryan's ass. "Cool shower and Advil," Spencer insists when Ryan yelps in pain. "We're both fucking dirty. Come on."
Ryan makes a good attempt at a glare, but then he shrugs and offers Spencer his other wrist. "In a minute?"
Smiling, Spencer turns Ryan's wrist so he can press another kiss against the pulse point. "Yeah, okay."
***