(no subject)
Oh god it's five in the morning I am not awake I am not lucid I have class in five hours I'm not even in my dorm HERE HAVE SOME VAMPIRE PORN.
Tell Me I'm Right
RATED NC-17 YOU GUYS IT'S FUCKING VAMPIRE PORN AGAIN.
Pairings: Brendon/Ryan (+William)
Warnings: VAMPIRES, vampire porn, biting and blood and mesmerism and use of the word "slut" and dubcon creeping into noncon territory, whee. Also? So. Fucking. Self-indulgent. Holy shit. Stop letting me write vampires!
Summary: For 1st_eggokage because she lovehates me and I hatelove her too. "vampire!brendon/fangbanger!ryanrossy, the one where ryan is william's new toy but also kind of a slut for any sharp pair of fangs that comes along"
Disclaimer: ...No. I wouldn't even want it to happen, THIS IS SILLY.
The doorbell rings, and Brendon’s at the door within the same second.
It’s Ryan, of course, startling at Brendon’s sudden appearance even if he should be used to it by now, after visiting the house almost every day for the past few weeks.
“Is-“
“William’s not home,” Brendon interrupts, because Ryan doesn’t come here for any other reason.
Ryan doesn’t flinch. “Can I wait for him here?”
Brendon could slam the door in his face. He should; Ryan’s been spending more time with William than any other human ever has, and William has better things to do than cater to the whims of a human, but before he has the chance to respond, Ryan’s shoving past him and walking into the foyer, and oh, he is sick of this kid.
Brendon has him pinned against the wall by the door before Ryan has the chance to walk any further. “That’s rude, coming inside without permission.”
Ryan blinks back at him, expression unreadable (though Brendon wants to believe there’s fear in his eyes). “It’s also rude to treat a guest of William’s like this.”
“William’s not here right now,” Brendon says right in his face, and he knows that unnerves humans, feeling the stale breath from his dead lungs.
Ryan frowns and seems to shrink back a little, but his tone stays the same as before. “You can’t hurt me.”
“I think I could.” Brendon smiles to expose his fangs. It’s probably not as threatening as having them suddenly appear, but he’s still working on figuring out how to make his retract and extend quickly, so he keeps them out most of the time when he’s at home.
He gets a reaction anyway-Ryan’s eyes widen, and Brendon can see his throat work. He even smells a little different.
“You can’t,” Ryan says again, still in that same obnoxious tone of voice. “William won’t let you.”
Brendon doesn’t answer, can’t, because he’s right. He shouldn’t even be touching Ryan right now-he belongs to William, and William hasn’t given anyone permission to touch him. But.
Brendon leans in, brings his mouth close to Ryan’s neck. He smells delicious.
He’ll take whatever punishment William gives him later.
“You can’t,” Ryan says for a third time, a broken record with a monotone, but there is a difference in his breathing, Brendon can tell. Ryan isn’t moving, not even struggling or squirming away, and he goes completely stiff when Brendon lets his tongue dart out over Ryan’s pulse.
He can hear the faint thump-thump of Ryan’s heart pushing blood through his body, can see the skin twitch where the blood is so close to the surface, can smell sweat and fear and something else beneath it, something sharp and a bit musky-
Oh.
Before he can think any further, he’s clamping down on Ryan’s throat, piercing the fragile human skin with ease, and Ryan gasps. Maybe it’s surprise, maybe it’s pain, but then Brendon starts licking over the wound he’s left, not even sucking, and Ryan moans, long and low.
Brendon doesn’t waste any more time, sucking the blood welling up from his bite before any of it can be wasted, and Ryan squirms against him, his groans breathier and choked off now. He doesn’t have all his memories of being a human, but he does remember this, the pinch of teeth on his neck, the sensation of the blood being sucked from his body, how fucking hard it always got him-
Apparently he remembers that part fairly accurately, from the way Ryan starts rutting against Brendon’s hip, his arms wrapping around Brendon’s waist, and no, no, he won’t have that.
He pulls himself away and holds Ryan at arm’s length by his shoulders, putting pressure downward. Ryan’s knees buckle for a moment, but then he snaps back, shaking his head and opening his mouth in what might be an attempt at a protest.
Brendon pulls Ryan back toward himself, removing one hand from his shoulder to tip his chin up, staring into his eyes.
“Get on your knees.”
He’s not good at this. William’s been teaching him how to get into people’s heads-the art of the mesmer, he calls it, but Brendon always thought that sounded kind of silly-but so far he’s only gotten it to work on one girl in a club, and she was probably drunk enough to follow him into the alley anyway.
He can feel Ryan fighting against him, but there’s no real effort behind it, just a stream of out out out get out go away that’s barely noticeable over the want want want oh fuck need this he’s obviously trying to hide. Brendon leans in closer, as close as he can without his eyes crossing, and whispers: “Now.”
Ryan drops to the ground.
(Brendon has to suppress the urge to throw his arms up in victory, because holy shit, it worked, he’s never gotten it to work before, but he feels like that might break the spell.)
He starts working on the obnoxious dress pants William makes them all wear (black today, not white, white is only for special occasions) as quickly as he can, like the mesmer will wear off if he’s not fast enough. He gets them down to about his thighs, along with his briefs, before he gives up trying to expose any more skin and shoves one hand into Ryan’s too-long hair, the other going to his cock for a few lazy strokes, bringing himself to full hardness (already halfway there from the fresh blood and the noises Ryan made when he took it).
Ryan opens his mouth-which is odd, because Brendon hasn’t given him another order, but he must want this even more than he’d noticed from the quick glance into Ryan’s mind-and then Brendon’s thoughts get cut off by soft lips on his hard cock as Ryan takes him down until the tip of his tongue is brushing Brendon’s fingers. And fucking fuck, that’s good, he doesn’t remember the last time someone did this to him. William never does, and Brendon’s never bothered to keep his food alive long enough to fuck. He’s usually more hungry than sex-starved.
But then Ryan’s bobbing his head and sucking hard, and Brendon takes his hand off his own cock to grip Ryan’s hair with both hands, pulling him further down.
Ryan doesn’t even choke. He probably does this for William all the time, sucks his cock in exchange for having William suck his blood, and the thought just makes his hands tighten in Ryan’s hair and his hips stutter forward again and again until he can feel himself hit the back of Ryan’s throat.
It’s not as if he ever wondered why William liked the boy so much. Ryan’s stick-thin and girl-pretty, like William, like all the boys William brings home. And, apparently, he has more than a little practice in sucking cock, which Brendon can’t imagine William turning down. He’d only chosen to dislike Ryan on principle: he’s been spending so much time with William without being properly turned, and William doesn’t normally keep humans for long-
Oh. Right. Ryan belongs to William, he’s his property, and Brendon’s standing here in William’s foyer, fucking Ryan’s mouth where Carden or the others could catch him, where William could enter the front door any second. He’d only meant to get in Ryan’s space a bit, maybe take a scolding from William later, but this? He’s going to pay.
But then Ryan does something with his tongue on the underside of his cock, and Brendon decides to forget about that for a while, because he’s getting close, and Ryan’s-Ryan’s arm is moving rhythmically, in time with Brendon’s thrusts.
Brendon tightens his grip again and pulls Ryan off his cock, only missing the heat of his mouth for a moment before getting distracted by Ryan, Ryan’s long fingers wrapped around his huge fucking cock. He’s about three seconds from pinning Ryan to the ground and riding him right there (he wonders if William ever does that, ever ties Ryan down and fucks himself until Ryan has to beg for release), but no, maybe another night (assuming William doesn’t kill him for this).
“Ryan.”
Ryan opens his eyes, his pupils dilated and barely focused. Brendon can’t tell if he’s still under or just close.
“Stop.”
Ryan’s hand stutters, but he doesn’t stop. Not quite under, then.
Brendon tugs Ryan’s hair and forces his face up, leaning down so their eyes meet. “Stop.”
“I’m not-you’re not-“ Ryan’s jaw clenches, and the corners of his eyes pinch like he’s trying to shut them, but he doesn’t, and Brendon grins. He can feel Ryan resisting, actually resisting this time, the out out out stronger than the want want want, but Brendon keeps staring down at him. “Not yet. Stop.”
Ryan’s hand drops to his side, clenching into a fist and trembling a little as Brendon’s grin widens. He did it. Ryan’s fucking powerless against him.
He moves one hand out of Ryan’s hair to swipe a thumb across Ryan’s mouth, reddened and slick with spit. “Open back up.”
Ryan’s jaw relaxes a little as Brendon presses his fingers to it, but his mouth stays shut. Brendon slips his thumb past Ryan’s lips and runs it along his teeth. “Open.”
Ryan’s lips part, but not enough, not like what he should be doing. Brendon still needs work after all.
“Fine,” Brendon says, taking his hand away and holding his cock instead. “Then I get to come on your face.”
“You-“ Ryan starts, but Brendon pulls his hair until he cries out, and there aren’t any further protests as Brendon starts stroking himself, fast and hard. He’s already close, close enough that his hips are moving on their own, jerking forward until he’s almost hitting Ryan in the face with his cock, and Ryan can only sit there, still obviously half-under, his head still tipped back by Brendon’s other hand.
“You want this,” Brendon pants without thinking, his mouth running off the way it does when he’s this close. “So fucking much, probably let William do this every night, don’t you?”
Ryan shudders, his eyes rolling up a little.
“I guess it doesn’t matter who it is, as long as he’s got fangs, right?” Brendon smirks. “Fucking slut.”
Ryan groans, and that sends Brendon right over the edge, coming on Ryan’s chin, his cheeks, his abused red mouth, and Brendon swears he can see Ryan’s tongue dart out for a second to taste what’s on his lips.
Brendon’s eyes shut once he’s finished, and his hand finally slips out of Ryan’s hair as he tries to recover enough to think straight. When he looks again, Ryan’s already got his hand back on his own cock.
Brendon doesn’t even try to stop him, his concentration broken completely. Ryan sits back on his heels and strokes himself steadily, his head thrown back and his eyes shut. There’s a mark where Brendon bit him earlier, but he hadn’t taken much, and Ryan’s still so red with blood in his face and neck, Brendon can’t help but kneel down next to him and lean forward, just breathing on his throat.
And Ryan fucking tilts his head to the side, giving Brendon a better angle, and how is he supposed to react?
Ryan hisses as Brendon’s teeth sink into him again, and he full-on moans as Brendon starts to drink. His eyes open back up, but they’re not focused on anything, and his movements become more sluggish but more desperate, and over the rush of fresh blood in his ears and the sound of skin on skin Brendon can hear a faint please, please.
Brendon licks his way over the fresh wound, and then the older one, closing them up and making Ryan pant and whine until he’s choking on air and coming over his fist. It’s fucking gorgeous.
They don’t move for a few minutes afterwards, content to stay panting on the ground, when Brendon’s suddenly jolted back to reality.
Shit.
William will be back soon. William’s coming back, and Ryan has Brendon’s come all over his face.
“Shit shit shit shit,” Brendon hisses, looking around for something to clean themselves up with and failing miserably. He grabs a handful of Ryan’s shirt and starts wiping Ryan’s face with it, thanking fuck Ryan decided to wear horrible pale lilac today. Ryan moves an arm in what might be a questioning gesture or a form of protest, but Brendon’s busy trying to wipe Ryan’s hand off on the carpet.
He pulls Ryan to his feet and tucks both of them back into their pants (though Ryan’s difficult to fit, fucking fuck, who in their right mind wears skinny jeans with a dick that big?) while Ryan stares groggily at the floor.
“Hey. You, Ross, hey.” Brendon tips Ryan’s chin up, and Ryan stares back with zero comprehension.
“You should go home. Now.” Ryan nods vaguely, and he doesn’t fight as Brendon leads him to the door.
“All right. Go home. Don’t…don’t tell William about this.” He tries to tinge the words with mesmer, but he can’t conjure up the energy or concentration. Ryan nods again, though, and he’s out the door as soon as Brendon opens it. He’s not walking quite steady, but he’ll live. Probably. Whatever.
Brendon goes to his room. He’s energized from feeding and can’t sit still, so he paces, and does headstands, and paces some more, and goes down the stairs to the music room to practice some scales on the piano William bought for him, and plays Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor because it usually makes him laugh, but today it just makes him even more nervous.
William comes home while Brendon’s trying to distract himself by working on a song he’s been writing, and Brendon only notices when he hears a voice behind him.
“Are you composing?”
Brendon tries not to stutter. “Yes, actually, I’ve been working on-“
“Play it for me.” William takes a seat on the couch nearby.
Brendon plays what he has so far: About forty measures, just a melody with only skeletons of harmony on the left hand. It’s rough, obviously unfinished, and he finishes the last measure he has with a frown and a shrug.
William claps anyway, standing up to look over Brendon’s shoulder at the scribbled-in sheets. “I can’t wait to hear it when it’s finished.”
Brendon nods, not sure what to say.
“Very interesting. Very lovely. Very…” William trails off, leaning into Brendon a bit more, taking a deep breath. Brendon tries not to squirm.
“Speaking of lovely things,” William says, back to his former tone, “Did Ryan come by today?”
Brendon stiffens. “No,” he says, looking at the sheets to avoid meeting eyes with William.
“Really? He said he’d be here.” William straightens up. “Humans, simply untrustworthy.”
Brendon nods, penciling in a few notes.
“I can’t stand liars, you know.” William sits on the bench next to Brendon. “Avoiding the truth, that’s reasonable, exaggerating a bit, I can understand, but lying? Inexcusable.”
Brendon can’t move.
“Humans lie all the time,” William continues, taking Brendon’s chin in hand and turning him so they’re face to face. “But we’re better than that. We’re above it. Wouldn’t you say so?”
Brendon can’t nod with William’s grip on his jaw, and his eyes are darting everywhere, anywhere but at William.
“Well?” William catches on, he always does, and he leans in further, making it harder to avoid his gaze. “Look at me, Brendon.”
His eyes flicker to William’s for just a moment, but then he’s stuck, trapped, his body going numb and his mind quieting.
“Did you lie to me, Brendon?” It’s hardly a question. William can probably read it all over his face without having to do this.
“Yes,” he mumbles.
“You touched something that doesn’t belong to you, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to do it again?”
The question throws him. He was expecting William to be angry, to punish him right away, to call down the Dandies and humiliate him in front of them.
His mouth says, “Yes.”
William smiles. “Then you will. I’ll make sure of it.”
Brendon can’t speak. This is too good, too easy, William’s not this forgiving.
“Say thank you, Brendon.”
“Thank you, thank you, William,” Brendon sputters out, still trying to comprehend what’s going on.
“Good. Now, the sun’s coming up soon, go to sleep. You’ll have what you want tomorrow.”
Brendon nods the best he can with William’s hand on his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”
He lets go, and Brendon takes off for his room, the mesmer still making his head fuzzy. He’s okay, he’s fine, William won’t hurt him, he’ll get to do it again.
William chuckles behind him.
Tell Me I'm Right
RATED NC-17 YOU GUYS IT'S FUCKING VAMPIRE PORN AGAIN.
Pairings: Brendon/Ryan (+William)
Warnings: VAMPIRES, vampire porn, biting and blood and mesmerism and use of the word "slut" and dubcon creeping into noncon territory, whee. Also? So. Fucking. Self-indulgent. Holy shit. Stop letting me write vampires!
Summary: For 1st_eggokage because she lovehates me and I hatelove her too. "vampire!brendon/fangbanger!ryanrossy, the one where ryan is william's new toy but also kind of a slut for any sharp pair of fangs that comes along"
Disclaimer: ...No. I wouldn't even want it to happen, THIS IS SILLY.
The doorbell rings, and Brendon’s at the door within the same second.
It’s Ryan, of course, startling at Brendon’s sudden appearance even if he should be used to it by now, after visiting the house almost every day for the past few weeks.
“Is-“
“William’s not home,” Brendon interrupts, because Ryan doesn’t come here for any other reason.
Ryan doesn’t flinch. “Can I wait for him here?”
Brendon could slam the door in his face. He should; Ryan’s been spending more time with William than any other human ever has, and William has better things to do than cater to the whims of a human, but before he has the chance to respond, Ryan’s shoving past him and walking into the foyer, and oh, he is sick of this kid.
Brendon has him pinned against the wall by the door before Ryan has the chance to walk any further. “That’s rude, coming inside without permission.”
Ryan blinks back at him, expression unreadable (though Brendon wants to believe there’s fear in his eyes). “It’s also rude to treat a guest of William’s like this.”
“William’s not here right now,” Brendon says right in his face, and he knows that unnerves humans, feeling the stale breath from his dead lungs.
Ryan frowns and seems to shrink back a little, but his tone stays the same as before. “You can’t hurt me.”
“I think I could.” Brendon smiles to expose his fangs. It’s probably not as threatening as having them suddenly appear, but he’s still working on figuring out how to make his retract and extend quickly, so he keeps them out most of the time when he’s at home.
He gets a reaction anyway-Ryan’s eyes widen, and Brendon can see his throat work. He even smells a little different.
“You can’t,” Ryan says again, still in that same obnoxious tone of voice. “William won’t let you.”
Brendon doesn’t answer, can’t, because he’s right. He shouldn’t even be touching Ryan right now-he belongs to William, and William hasn’t given anyone permission to touch him. But.
Brendon leans in, brings his mouth close to Ryan’s neck. He smells delicious.
He’ll take whatever punishment William gives him later.
“You can’t,” Ryan says for a third time, a broken record with a monotone, but there is a difference in his breathing, Brendon can tell. Ryan isn’t moving, not even struggling or squirming away, and he goes completely stiff when Brendon lets his tongue dart out over Ryan’s pulse.
He can hear the faint thump-thump of Ryan’s heart pushing blood through his body, can see the skin twitch where the blood is so close to the surface, can smell sweat and fear and something else beneath it, something sharp and a bit musky-
Oh.
Before he can think any further, he’s clamping down on Ryan’s throat, piercing the fragile human skin with ease, and Ryan gasps. Maybe it’s surprise, maybe it’s pain, but then Brendon starts licking over the wound he’s left, not even sucking, and Ryan moans, long and low.
Brendon doesn’t waste any more time, sucking the blood welling up from his bite before any of it can be wasted, and Ryan squirms against him, his groans breathier and choked off now. He doesn’t have all his memories of being a human, but he does remember this, the pinch of teeth on his neck, the sensation of the blood being sucked from his body, how fucking hard it always got him-
Apparently he remembers that part fairly accurately, from the way Ryan starts rutting against Brendon’s hip, his arms wrapping around Brendon’s waist, and no, no, he won’t have that.
He pulls himself away and holds Ryan at arm’s length by his shoulders, putting pressure downward. Ryan’s knees buckle for a moment, but then he snaps back, shaking his head and opening his mouth in what might be an attempt at a protest.
Brendon pulls Ryan back toward himself, removing one hand from his shoulder to tip his chin up, staring into his eyes.
“Get on your knees.”
He’s not good at this. William’s been teaching him how to get into people’s heads-the art of the mesmer, he calls it, but Brendon always thought that sounded kind of silly-but so far he’s only gotten it to work on one girl in a club, and she was probably drunk enough to follow him into the alley anyway.
He can feel Ryan fighting against him, but there’s no real effort behind it, just a stream of out out out get out go away that’s barely noticeable over the want want want oh fuck need this he’s obviously trying to hide. Brendon leans in closer, as close as he can without his eyes crossing, and whispers: “Now.”
Ryan drops to the ground.
(Brendon has to suppress the urge to throw his arms up in victory, because holy shit, it worked, he’s never gotten it to work before, but he feels like that might break the spell.)
He starts working on the obnoxious dress pants William makes them all wear (black today, not white, white is only for special occasions) as quickly as he can, like the mesmer will wear off if he’s not fast enough. He gets them down to about his thighs, along with his briefs, before he gives up trying to expose any more skin and shoves one hand into Ryan’s too-long hair, the other going to his cock for a few lazy strokes, bringing himself to full hardness (already halfway there from the fresh blood and the noises Ryan made when he took it).
Ryan opens his mouth-which is odd, because Brendon hasn’t given him another order, but he must want this even more than he’d noticed from the quick glance into Ryan’s mind-and then Brendon’s thoughts get cut off by soft lips on his hard cock as Ryan takes him down until the tip of his tongue is brushing Brendon’s fingers. And fucking fuck, that’s good, he doesn’t remember the last time someone did this to him. William never does, and Brendon’s never bothered to keep his food alive long enough to fuck. He’s usually more hungry than sex-starved.
But then Ryan’s bobbing his head and sucking hard, and Brendon takes his hand off his own cock to grip Ryan’s hair with both hands, pulling him further down.
Ryan doesn’t even choke. He probably does this for William all the time, sucks his cock in exchange for having William suck his blood, and the thought just makes his hands tighten in Ryan’s hair and his hips stutter forward again and again until he can feel himself hit the back of Ryan’s throat.
It’s not as if he ever wondered why William liked the boy so much. Ryan’s stick-thin and girl-pretty, like William, like all the boys William brings home. And, apparently, he has more than a little practice in sucking cock, which Brendon can’t imagine William turning down. He’d only chosen to dislike Ryan on principle: he’s been spending so much time with William without being properly turned, and William doesn’t normally keep humans for long-
Oh. Right. Ryan belongs to William, he’s his property, and Brendon’s standing here in William’s foyer, fucking Ryan’s mouth where Carden or the others could catch him, where William could enter the front door any second. He’d only meant to get in Ryan’s space a bit, maybe take a scolding from William later, but this? He’s going to pay.
But then Ryan does something with his tongue on the underside of his cock, and Brendon decides to forget about that for a while, because he’s getting close, and Ryan’s-Ryan’s arm is moving rhythmically, in time with Brendon’s thrusts.
Brendon tightens his grip again and pulls Ryan off his cock, only missing the heat of his mouth for a moment before getting distracted by Ryan, Ryan’s long fingers wrapped around his huge fucking cock. He’s about three seconds from pinning Ryan to the ground and riding him right there (he wonders if William ever does that, ever ties Ryan down and fucks himself until Ryan has to beg for release), but no, maybe another night (assuming William doesn’t kill him for this).
“Ryan.”
Ryan opens his eyes, his pupils dilated and barely focused. Brendon can’t tell if he’s still under or just close.
“Stop.”
Ryan’s hand stutters, but he doesn’t stop. Not quite under, then.
Brendon tugs Ryan’s hair and forces his face up, leaning down so their eyes meet. “Stop.”
“I’m not-you’re not-“ Ryan’s jaw clenches, and the corners of his eyes pinch like he’s trying to shut them, but he doesn’t, and Brendon grins. He can feel Ryan resisting, actually resisting this time, the out out out stronger than the want want want, but Brendon keeps staring down at him. “Not yet. Stop.”
Ryan’s hand drops to his side, clenching into a fist and trembling a little as Brendon’s grin widens. He did it. Ryan’s fucking powerless against him.
He moves one hand out of Ryan’s hair to swipe a thumb across Ryan’s mouth, reddened and slick with spit. “Open back up.”
Ryan’s jaw relaxes a little as Brendon presses his fingers to it, but his mouth stays shut. Brendon slips his thumb past Ryan’s lips and runs it along his teeth. “Open.”
Ryan’s lips part, but not enough, not like what he should be doing. Brendon still needs work after all.
“Fine,” Brendon says, taking his hand away and holding his cock instead. “Then I get to come on your face.”
“You-“ Ryan starts, but Brendon pulls his hair until he cries out, and there aren’t any further protests as Brendon starts stroking himself, fast and hard. He’s already close, close enough that his hips are moving on their own, jerking forward until he’s almost hitting Ryan in the face with his cock, and Ryan can only sit there, still obviously half-under, his head still tipped back by Brendon’s other hand.
“You want this,” Brendon pants without thinking, his mouth running off the way it does when he’s this close. “So fucking much, probably let William do this every night, don’t you?”
Ryan shudders, his eyes rolling up a little.
“I guess it doesn’t matter who it is, as long as he’s got fangs, right?” Brendon smirks. “Fucking slut.”
Ryan groans, and that sends Brendon right over the edge, coming on Ryan’s chin, his cheeks, his abused red mouth, and Brendon swears he can see Ryan’s tongue dart out for a second to taste what’s on his lips.
Brendon’s eyes shut once he’s finished, and his hand finally slips out of Ryan’s hair as he tries to recover enough to think straight. When he looks again, Ryan’s already got his hand back on his own cock.
Brendon doesn’t even try to stop him, his concentration broken completely. Ryan sits back on his heels and strokes himself steadily, his head thrown back and his eyes shut. There’s a mark where Brendon bit him earlier, but he hadn’t taken much, and Ryan’s still so red with blood in his face and neck, Brendon can’t help but kneel down next to him and lean forward, just breathing on his throat.
And Ryan fucking tilts his head to the side, giving Brendon a better angle, and how is he supposed to react?
Ryan hisses as Brendon’s teeth sink into him again, and he full-on moans as Brendon starts to drink. His eyes open back up, but they’re not focused on anything, and his movements become more sluggish but more desperate, and over the rush of fresh blood in his ears and the sound of skin on skin Brendon can hear a faint please, please.
Brendon licks his way over the fresh wound, and then the older one, closing them up and making Ryan pant and whine until he’s choking on air and coming over his fist. It’s fucking gorgeous.
They don’t move for a few minutes afterwards, content to stay panting on the ground, when Brendon’s suddenly jolted back to reality.
Shit.
William will be back soon. William’s coming back, and Ryan has Brendon’s come all over his face.
“Shit shit shit shit,” Brendon hisses, looking around for something to clean themselves up with and failing miserably. He grabs a handful of Ryan’s shirt and starts wiping Ryan’s face with it, thanking fuck Ryan decided to wear horrible pale lilac today. Ryan moves an arm in what might be a questioning gesture or a form of protest, but Brendon’s busy trying to wipe Ryan’s hand off on the carpet.
He pulls Ryan to his feet and tucks both of them back into their pants (though Ryan’s difficult to fit, fucking fuck, who in their right mind wears skinny jeans with a dick that big?) while Ryan stares groggily at the floor.
“Hey. You, Ross, hey.” Brendon tips Ryan’s chin up, and Ryan stares back with zero comprehension.
“You should go home. Now.” Ryan nods vaguely, and he doesn’t fight as Brendon leads him to the door.
“All right. Go home. Don’t…don’t tell William about this.” He tries to tinge the words with mesmer, but he can’t conjure up the energy or concentration. Ryan nods again, though, and he’s out the door as soon as Brendon opens it. He’s not walking quite steady, but he’ll live. Probably. Whatever.
Brendon goes to his room. He’s energized from feeding and can’t sit still, so he paces, and does headstands, and paces some more, and goes down the stairs to the music room to practice some scales on the piano William bought for him, and plays Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor because it usually makes him laugh, but today it just makes him even more nervous.
William comes home while Brendon’s trying to distract himself by working on a song he’s been writing, and Brendon only notices when he hears a voice behind him.
“Are you composing?”
Brendon tries not to stutter. “Yes, actually, I’ve been working on-“
“Play it for me.” William takes a seat on the couch nearby.
Brendon plays what he has so far: About forty measures, just a melody with only skeletons of harmony on the left hand. It’s rough, obviously unfinished, and he finishes the last measure he has with a frown and a shrug.
William claps anyway, standing up to look over Brendon’s shoulder at the scribbled-in sheets. “I can’t wait to hear it when it’s finished.”
Brendon nods, not sure what to say.
“Very interesting. Very lovely. Very…” William trails off, leaning into Brendon a bit more, taking a deep breath. Brendon tries not to squirm.
“Speaking of lovely things,” William says, back to his former tone, “Did Ryan come by today?”
Brendon stiffens. “No,” he says, looking at the sheets to avoid meeting eyes with William.
“Really? He said he’d be here.” William straightens up. “Humans, simply untrustworthy.”
Brendon nods, penciling in a few notes.
“I can’t stand liars, you know.” William sits on the bench next to Brendon. “Avoiding the truth, that’s reasonable, exaggerating a bit, I can understand, but lying? Inexcusable.”
Brendon can’t move.
“Humans lie all the time,” William continues, taking Brendon’s chin in hand and turning him so they’re face to face. “But we’re better than that. We’re above it. Wouldn’t you say so?”
Brendon can’t nod with William’s grip on his jaw, and his eyes are darting everywhere, anywhere but at William.
“Well?” William catches on, he always does, and he leans in further, making it harder to avoid his gaze. “Look at me, Brendon.”
His eyes flicker to William’s for just a moment, but then he’s stuck, trapped, his body going numb and his mind quieting.
“Did you lie to me, Brendon?” It’s hardly a question. William can probably read it all over his face without having to do this.
“Yes,” he mumbles.
“You touched something that doesn’t belong to you, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to do it again?”
The question throws him. He was expecting William to be angry, to punish him right away, to call down the Dandies and humiliate him in front of them.
His mouth says, “Yes.”
William smiles. “Then you will. I’ll make sure of it.”
Brendon can’t speak. This is too good, too easy, William’s not this forgiving.
“Say thank you, Brendon.”
“Thank you, thank you, William,” Brendon sputters out, still trying to comprehend what’s going on.
“Good. Now, the sun’s coming up soon, go to sleep. You’ll have what you want tomorrow.”
Brendon nods the best he can with William’s hand on his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”
He lets go, and Brendon takes off for his room, the mesmer still making his head fuzzy. He’s okay, he’s fine, William won’t hurt him, he’ll get to do it again.
William chuckles behind him.