Controversy Loves Company [Chapter 4/?]
Title: Controversy Loves Company [Chapter 4/?]
Authors:
xlatestxplaguex and
fauxfashionista
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Summary: It's a surprise. :)
Disclaimer: fake as plastic surgery. Title belongs to The Audition.
Author Notes: TWO UPDATES IN TWO DAYS. And we thought this story was dead. Sorry for the lack of summary, but seriously. Twice, in two days. Be happy.
1 | 2 | 3
-Brendon's POV-
I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist, walking into the bedroom with a smirk plastered on my face. Okay, so it's really fucked up that I just had that conversation with my seventeen-year-old student, but I couldn't stop myself.
I make sure to wear the tightest pants I own, and to leave the first two buttons on my oxford undone.
--
Three hours later, sitting in class and waiting for the bell to ring, I lift my red-framed, ugly glasses (just like I told Ryan about) and set them on top of my head, rubbing my eyes and trying to will myself to stay awake long enough to teach. Fuck having class first block.
Once the bell rings and students start to shuffle in, I pick up the cup of coffee I brought for Ryan and laugh a little to myself, turning around and bending over to pick out the sugar and cream packets out of my bag. When I turn back around, I see a group of three girls just staring.
Huh. Maybe Ryan was right. Maybe I am hot. I nod to myself and try to keep from smirking when I see Ryan walk in the room.
"Ryan, c'mere."
His neck and cheeks flush as soon as he hears my voice, but he listens anyway, walking over and avoiding eye contact with me.
"Promised you coffee," I smile, handing it to him. "And I brought sugar and cream. I wasn't sure if you like it straight," I smirk, adding subtle emphasis on the word, "but I had a feeling you don't."
As Ryan takes the sugar packets and cream, he flushes even more and makes brief eye contact, shaking his head and smiling a little. The second bell rings and people are still running through the door, making up bullshit excuses as to why they're late.
"Shut up and sit down," I laugh, closing the door once everyone's in. "Guess what's gonna happen today, hmm?" I say, looking around the room.
"What?" Somebody asks from the back of the class room, some kid I haven't remembered yet, and I smile at him.
"You all get to write for me again today," I grin, walking back over to my desk and bending down to get my bag again. Putting it on the table, I glance out of my peripheral vision, making sure to arch my back more than is needed while bending over the desk, and notice several people staring at me again. Including Ryan.
I dig the papers I need out of the bag and stand back up straight, turning back to the class and reveling in the constant red shade of Ryan's face. This is priceless.
"Why does Ryan get coffee and we don't?" Tyler asks, crossing his arms.
"Okay, who ever said you weren't allowed to have coffee?" I say, crossing my arms back and cocking my hips to one side.
"I didn't say that, I said why does he get coffee. You brought it to him," he pushes, shaking some hair out of his face.
"You jealous or something?" Tyler just rolls his eyes. "What? You want me to bring you some coffee tomorrow, Tyler?"
"Actually, yeah," he laughs, sitting up a bit in his chair. "Would you?"
"Me too," Maddie says from her seat beside Ryan, nudging him with her elbow. He blushes again and laughs a little, looking up at me shyly. Some other kid in the back I don't know pipes up with her request for coffee, too, and I sigh and shake my head.
"I might as well just bring my coffee maker from home and make you kids pay, huh?"
"Nah, free coffee," Tyler says.
"This is all your fault," I point at Ryan and he laughs quietly, shifting in his seat and taking a cautious sip of his coffee.
"Sorry," he mutters unapologetically, smiling. I just shake my head again and start handing out the papers.
"Quit complaining and bring your own damn coffee," I laugh. "So, anyway, about class. This kind of follows up on the segment about Hemingway we did recently. I want you all to write me a short story, using Hemingway's technique. You know, the whole iceberg thing? Make it cryptic, I want to have to guess what you're talking about."
Sasha raises her hand in the back, and I nod my head at her. "Yeah?"
"Can we call you if we need help?" A girl beside her giggles, and I lift my glasses up and look at them.
"You only want my number, don't you?" Ryan chuckles when I walk past him and I make sure my hip brushes his shoulder when I walk past, and unless my imagination has gone wild, I think I feel him lean into the touch. I smirk.
"No, seriously," Sasha says with a convincing tone, reaching out to take the paper before it's handed to her. "I suck at writing. Like, bad. I might need help. Seriously," she reiterates.
"Yeah, yeah," I say, putting the extra papers back on my desk and grabbing a piece of chalk. "I swear, if I get any midnight phone calls from people I don't know..." I trail off, scrawling my cell phone number on the chalkboard and sitting in my chair, watching as all the female students in the class, plus Ryan and Tyler, add my number to their phones. "All right, now that you've got my number to prank call later, get to work on your assignment."
"Hey B-, uh, Mr. Urie," Ryan says, looking up at me from his paper that he already started writing on.
"Mmhm?"
"I actually like those glasses." He sends me a half smile and ducks his head back down, scribbling away at his notebook.
"This class is so ADHD," I say, laughing again, and take out my copy of Haunted, flipping open to the page I left off at. "Thanks, though."
Ryan looks back up again and nods, still smiling a little, and I fan myself, pretending it's hot, and undo another button on my shirt. Ryan blushes and looks back down, and I look down at the pages on my book, reading the same sentence repeatedly and not absorbing it.
Another ten minutes in, and I really am starting to get warm. I hold the book in one hand and undo the rest of the buttons on my shirt, flipping the page and actually getting back into the storyline.
Five more minutes, and my back is hurting like a bitch. I put down my book and stretch, raising my arms over my head and suppressing a groan when I lower them back down, lifting up the wifebeater I'm wearing under my oxford to rub at my stomach a bit.
-Ryan's POV-
God, he is making me so nervous. I'm a little worried that he's going to go a little to far with the commenting, and Madison is going to freak out of something. Fuck, I need to stop being so paranoid.
He looks especially good today, and I think the glasses just add to his sexiness. Wait, what? Since when did I get to be all-out gay. Before this morning, I hadn't even so much as thought about checking out another guy.
Huh, that must be the effect Brendon has on teenage boys.
Christ, now he's unbuttoning his goddamn shirt. I look down, trying to avoid looking at his pale (and oh, so fucking hot) stomach that's being exposed at the moment. What is he trying to do to me?
Finally, after awhile more of torture class, the bell rings and everyone tries to hurry out of the classroom, myself included. I lace my fingers with Madison's, attempting to pull her quickly out into the hall.
Of course, fucking girls always ruin everything. She suddenly feels the need to go talk to another girl in our class, leaving me standing awkwardly beside her, and way too close to Brendon's desk.
"I'll see you later, baby," I say, kissing Madison's cheek.
I turn around quickly, ready to make a mad dash out of the room, but I bump into Brendon instead.
"Hey, you going to need a ride home today?" he asks, and I'm standing way too close to him.
"Um, no...I'm good for today," I tell him awkwardly. "Thanks anyway," I continue, hurrying off to my next class.
--
At lunch, I halfway listen to what Jon and some of the other guys at our table are saying, but it's nearly impossible. I've got Brendon on the brain, and he won't fucking. Go. Away. I pull out my cell phone, logging into my AIM messenger. Brendon's online again, so I decide to IM him.
bulletxcharm (12:35:42 PM): hey
parttimelovah (12:37:15 PM): hey, what's going on?
bulletxcharm (12:37:29 PM): not much...eating
bulletxcharm (12:37:30 PM): you?
parttimelovah (12:37:45 PM): grading papers...always fun
bulletxcharm (12:38:07 PM): mhm sounds like it
bulletxcharm (12:38:33 PM): was that your real number you wrote down today?
parttimelovah (12:38:53 PM): lol no ryan, i gave the class a fake phone number
bulletxcharm (12:39:03 PM): well, you never know....
parttimelovah (12:39:25 PM): haha yeah it's my real number, why?
bulletxcharm (12:39:41 PM): cuz i kinda..maybe wanted to call you tonight?
parttimelovah (12:40:30 PM): ooh, what for?
bulletxcharm (12:40:46 PM): i don't know...nevermind
parttimelovah (12:41:02 PM): no, no it's fine
parttimelovah (12:41:04 PM): you can call me
bulletxcharm (12:41:43 PM): kay :P
parttimelovah (12:43:18 PM): so what are you doing?
bulletxcharm (12:43:46 PM): eating..i told you that already
parttimelovah (12:44:18 PM): lol sorry :P
parttimelovah (12:45:45 PM): so how come you don't wanna ride home w/ me? :P
bulletxcharm (12:45:59 PM): ...
bulletxcharm (12:46:12 PM): kinda scared, i guess :x
parttimelovah (12:46:24 PM): ?
parttimelovah (12:46:27 PM): scared of what?
bulletxcharm (12:46:29 PM): i don't know
parttimelovah (12:46:43 PM): ryan i'm not going to like...molest you
bulletxcharm (12:46:54 PM): i didn't say that
bulletxcharm (12:47:13 PM): it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing either..i guess that's why i don't want to
parttimelovah (12:47:52 PM): oh...
bulletxcharm (12:49:30 PM): what's 'oh...'
parttimelovah (12:50:06 PM): i figured you wouldn't want to be alone w/ me because you thought i'd make a move on you
parttimelovah (12:50:19 PM): and you like...would freak
bulletxcharm (12:50:41 PM): ...
bulletxcharm (12:50:48 PM): i have to go to art now..ill talk to you tonight?
parttimelovah (12:51:08 PM): uh yeah...ttyl. call any time
bulletxcharm (12:51:13 PM): bye xx
parttimelovah (12:51:24 PM): heh bye
parttimelovah has signed out.
--
I am pretty quiet throughout art, and when Madison is taking me home, she obviously notices that I'm acting different. I am just freaking out though, and I can't help it. It's not like I would mind if Brendon were to make a move on me because he was being plenty forward in class today, but I am supposed to be straight.
I'm such an ass though. I've got my beautiful girlfriend sitting less than a foot away from me, but here I am thinking about another guy. Another guy that just so happens to be my goddamn teacher. I am in way over my head.
"Everything okay?" she asks, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I sigh. "I'm just tired. I'll probably just go home and take a nap."
"You did seem really tired today, baby," she says, pulling into the driveway. "Like you didn't sleep at all last night."
"Didn't get much," I tell her, unbuckling my seatbelt. "I love you."
"I love you too," she says, leaning toward me and pressing a kiss to my lips. "Bye."
"Bye," I say, getting out and going in the house.
--
I pace around my room, tossing my cell phone from one hand to the other. It's nine-thirty already, and I'm hoping Brendon didn't already go to sleep since we stayed up so late last night. This morning. Whatever. I put the phone down long enough to take off my shirt and blue jeans, pulling on a pair of pajama pants to sleep in. I grab my phone again, getting comfortable in my bed before calling Brendon.
It rings four times, and I'm about to hang up when he answers.
"Hello?"
"Brendon?" I ask, unsure.
"Yeah?"
"Oh hey, it's Ryan."
"Hey, what's going on?"
Just listening to the sound of his voice is getting to me, and I try to ignore the already-forming erection in my PJs.
"N-nothing much. You?"
"Not much. Just laying in my bed."
"Tired from staying up all night?"
"I'm not too tired, actually. I took a nap after I got home from school and I'm pretty awake again. How about you?"
"Yeah, I went to sleep too. So...are you going to get online tonight?"
"I might be, yeah. If I can get my lazy ass out of bed to put some clothes on." He laughs quietly and I shift on my bed, not expecting to get turned on by this conversation.
"Not wearing any clothes, huh?" I ask, voice low. "You could just stay in bed and talk to me on the phone if you didn't want to get dressed."
I can already feel a blush creeping across my skin as soon as the words leave my mouth. Just imagining him in his bed, naked, is driving me more insane than it should.
"Nah, I really don't like clothes that much, and I'd rather stay in bed and talk to you anyway."
"So what do you want to talk about?" I ask, fidgeting apprehensively.
"Whatever you want to talk about. You called me, remember?"
"Yeah, I know," I laugh, "But that doesn't mean I know what we should talk about."
He laughs lightly again, and there's a bit of rustling on the other line. "True, true. So what did you do today besides sleep?"
"Well...I went to school, but you know that already," I say, feeling silly. "And I got to see your stomach....that was nice," I laugh nervously.
"Mm, you think so? It's not that nice."
"You should have just taken all of it off," I tell him, wanting to smack myself in the face for it. "It's only fair since you saw me half naked, right?"
"You'd have to take it all off in front of me first. Pictures are different than the real thing, you know."
"Yeah, true," I say quietly. "But still, it would have been really nice."
...
"I'm terrible at this kind of stuff," I admit, laughing.
"Aw, what kind of stuff?"
"Um...this," I start, letting my hand trail down my stomach, pulling my pajama pants down around my thighs. Licking my lips and stroking myself until I'm fully hard, I accidentally let out a quiet moan, praying that he didn't hear it.
"Hmm?"
"Um, what?" I ask, biting my lip to stifle any other noises.
"Did you say something?"
"N-no, didn't say anything," I get out, biting down hard on my lip. "...Keep talking," I urge him, starting to pump myself slowly, getting off on the sound of his voice.
"...About what?"
"Um, I don't kno-" I'm cut off by another embarrassing noise coming from my mouth, and I bite the inside of my cheek, heart hammering.
"Ryan....what are you doing?" Unlike casual conversation, Brendon's voice is somewhat accusing, with traces of amusement, and I can only hope he doesn't know what I'm doing.
"Nothing," I say too quickly, panting. I hold the phone away from my mouth a bit, just in case, and move my hand faster.
"Are you sure? You sound kind of breathless." I can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and I suddenly realize that I don't even care if he knows I'm jerking off anymore.
"I don't k-know what you're t-talking about," I stutter, letting out a breathy, quiet moan.
"Ry, are you touching yourself?"
"Um, no...maybe," I sigh, another noise slipping between my lips. "Fuck."
He laughs breathily, "Do I turn you on, Ryan?"
"Mm...y-yeah," I say breathlessly, my pace getting quicker and a little less rhythmic.
"Would it turn you on more if I told you I was touching myself too?"
"Are you?" I bite my lip and tilt my head back, holding the phone close to my ear and groan quietly. Fuck, the image of Brendon touching himself turns me on even more, and I run my thumb across the head of my cock, spreading precome.
"Mhmm..." He moans, and I follow suit.
Brendon's POV
"Fuck, that's hot..."
"Mm, I bet you look good right now, Ry," I say, breathing heavily and fingering my slit.
Wait, what? Fuck! Ryan Ross, you are jailbait. I'm having phone sex with my student. Jesus. Ryan moans on the other line, and I can't help but start to pump my cock, writhing around a little on the bed.
"God, yeah, you sound fucking hot." I thrust my hips, fucking up into my own fist, and I'm clutching the phone so tightly in my free hand I think it might break soon. A little whimper comes from Ryan's end of the line, and I hear him stutter out my name. Licking my lips and moaning quietly, I purr at him, "C'mon Ryan, talk to me."
"Wh-", his voice cracks, "What are y-you doing?"
Smirking, I decide to milk this for all it's worth. (No pun intended.) "Mm, I'm touching my cock and thinking it's you. Feels so fucking good, nngh," I moan, arching my back and spreading my legs.
"Mm, God...wish you were here with me."
"Bet you'd look so fucking hot laying under me and moaning, Christ," I groan, closing my eyes and imagining how Ryan would look. Fuck.
"Want you to fuck me," he breathes, and I come embarrassingly close to orgasm.
"Oh, fuck, I want you," I moan again, louder, and quicken my hand, dull ache growing in my wrist.
"Unh, Bren, I'm close," Ryan says, making the most delicious noises on the other line.
"Mm...yeah, Ry, fucking cum for me," I moan, pleading with him to hurry because I'm ridiculously close.
He moans louder, moans my fucking name, voice deep and sensual, and I can't help but moan with him and orgasm, pumping myself through it. There's heavy breathing on the line for a minute, and eventually, I laugh a little.
"Did we just...? Oh, man." Ryan laughs too, and I can't help but smile.
"Yeah, I think we did."
"Fuck, that was hot. You sound so good," I say honestly, trailing my hand down my sweaty stomach.
"Um, thanks," he says shyly. "You do, too." After another few minutes of silence, me still trying to regain my breathing, Ryan speaks up. "At least I'm sleepy again."
"Y-yeah," I say, blinking my eyes hard. "I'm...I'm going to go take another shower and...rest."
"I think I'm gonna do the same," he says.
Just for good measure, I figure I'd ask; "Do you have a ride home tomorrow?"
"I d-don't think so," he says.
"Well, you want to...like," I trail off, hoping he gets the picture.
"Want to like, what?" Obviously, he doesn't.
"I could...give you a ride. Somewhere..."
"And where would this somewhere be?" Now the kid's teasing me? I inwardly sigh.
"Where ever you want to go." A ride in my lap would be nice.
Silence.
"Brendon?"
"Yeah?"
"Oh, just making sure you were still there. So...did you have anywhere in mind?"
"Yeah, I'm here. And, like, you can just...I could take to your house? Or maybe you could come here, if you wanted," I stumble out quickly, feeling awkward.
"Kay, we can talk about it tomorrow. I'm gonna go shower now."
"All right. I'll see you tomorrow. G'night."
"Night, Bren. Thanks for the...y-you know," he says, and I smile.
"Heh, no problem. Call me any time you want, Ry. Bye."
"Bye."
...
Well, fuck.
Authors:
xlatestxplaguex and
fauxfashionista
Rating: R
Pairing: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Summary: It's a surprise. :)
Disclaimer: fake as plastic surgery. Title belongs to The Audition.
Author Notes: TWO UPDATES IN TWO DAYS. And we thought this story was dead. Sorry for the lack of summary, but seriously. Twice, in two days. Be happy.
1 | 2 | 3
-Brendon's POV-
I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist, walking into the bedroom with a smirk plastered on my face. Okay, so it's really fucked up that I just had that conversation with my seventeen-year-old student, but I couldn't stop myself.
I make sure to wear the tightest pants I own, and to leave the first two buttons on my oxford undone.
--
Three hours later, sitting in class and waiting for the bell to ring, I lift my red-framed, ugly glasses (just like I told Ryan about) and set them on top of my head, rubbing my eyes and trying to will myself to stay awake long enough to teach. Fuck having class first block.
Once the bell rings and students start to shuffle in, I pick up the cup of coffee I brought for Ryan and laugh a little to myself, turning around and bending over to pick out the sugar and cream packets out of my bag. When I turn back around, I see a group of three girls just staring.
Huh. Maybe Ryan was right. Maybe I am hot. I nod to myself and try to keep from smirking when I see Ryan walk in the room.
"Ryan, c'mere."
His neck and cheeks flush as soon as he hears my voice, but he listens anyway, walking over and avoiding eye contact with me.
"Promised you coffee," I smile, handing it to him. "And I brought sugar and cream. I wasn't sure if you like it straight," I smirk, adding subtle emphasis on the word, "but I had a feeling you don't."
As Ryan takes the sugar packets and cream, he flushes even more and makes brief eye contact, shaking his head and smiling a little. The second bell rings and people are still running through the door, making up bullshit excuses as to why they're late.
"Shut up and sit down," I laugh, closing the door once everyone's in. "Guess what's gonna happen today, hmm?" I say, looking around the room.
"What?" Somebody asks from the back of the class room, some kid I haven't remembered yet, and I smile at him.
"You all get to write for me again today," I grin, walking back over to my desk and bending down to get my bag again. Putting it on the table, I glance out of my peripheral vision, making sure to arch my back more than is needed while bending over the desk, and notice several people staring at me again. Including Ryan.
I dig the papers I need out of the bag and stand back up straight, turning back to the class and reveling in the constant red shade of Ryan's face. This is priceless.
"Why does Ryan get coffee and we don't?" Tyler asks, crossing his arms.
"Okay, who ever said you weren't allowed to have coffee?" I say, crossing my arms back and cocking my hips to one side.
"I didn't say that, I said why does he get coffee. You brought it to him," he pushes, shaking some hair out of his face.
"You jealous or something?" Tyler just rolls his eyes. "What? You want me to bring you some coffee tomorrow, Tyler?"
"Actually, yeah," he laughs, sitting up a bit in his chair. "Would you?"
"Me too," Maddie says from her seat beside Ryan, nudging him with her elbow. He blushes again and laughs a little, looking up at me shyly. Some other kid in the back I don't know pipes up with her request for coffee, too, and I sigh and shake my head.
"I might as well just bring my coffee maker from home and make you kids pay, huh?"
"Nah, free coffee," Tyler says.
"This is all your fault," I point at Ryan and he laughs quietly, shifting in his seat and taking a cautious sip of his coffee.
"Sorry," he mutters unapologetically, smiling. I just shake my head again and start handing out the papers.
"Quit complaining and bring your own damn coffee," I laugh. "So, anyway, about class. This kind of follows up on the segment about Hemingway we did recently. I want you all to write me a short story, using Hemingway's technique. You know, the whole iceberg thing? Make it cryptic, I want to have to guess what you're talking about."
Sasha raises her hand in the back, and I nod my head at her. "Yeah?"
"Can we call you if we need help?" A girl beside her giggles, and I lift my glasses up and look at them.
"You only want my number, don't you?" Ryan chuckles when I walk past him and I make sure my hip brushes his shoulder when I walk past, and unless my imagination has gone wild, I think I feel him lean into the touch. I smirk.
"No, seriously," Sasha says with a convincing tone, reaching out to take the paper before it's handed to her. "I suck at writing. Like, bad. I might need help. Seriously," she reiterates.
"Yeah, yeah," I say, putting the extra papers back on my desk and grabbing a piece of chalk. "I swear, if I get any midnight phone calls from people I don't know..." I trail off, scrawling my cell phone number on the chalkboard and sitting in my chair, watching as all the female students in the class, plus Ryan and Tyler, add my number to their phones. "All right, now that you've got my number to prank call later, get to work on your assignment."
"Hey B-, uh, Mr. Urie," Ryan says, looking up at me from his paper that he already started writing on.
"Mmhm?"
"I actually like those glasses." He sends me a half smile and ducks his head back down, scribbling away at his notebook.
"This class is so ADHD," I say, laughing again, and take out my copy of Haunted, flipping open to the page I left off at. "Thanks, though."
Ryan looks back up again and nods, still smiling a little, and I fan myself, pretending it's hot, and undo another button on my shirt. Ryan blushes and looks back down, and I look down at the pages on my book, reading the same sentence repeatedly and not absorbing it.
Another ten minutes in, and I really am starting to get warm. I hold the book in one hand and undo the rest of the buttons on my shirt, flipping the page and actually getting back into the storyline.
Five more minutes, and my back is hurting like a bitch. I put down my book and stretch, raising my arms over my head and suppressing a groan when I lower them back down, lifting up the wifebeater I'm wearing under my oxford to rub at my stomach a bit.
-Ryan's POV-
God, he is making me so nervous. I'm a little worried that he's going to go a little to far with the commenting, and Madison is going to freak out of something. Fuck, I need to stop being so paranoid.
He looks especially good today, and I think the glasses just add to his sexiness. Wait, what? Since when did I get to be all-out gay. Before this morning, I hadn't even so much as thought about checking out another guy.
Huh, that must be the effect Brendon has on teenage boys.
Christ, now he's unbuttoning his goddamn shirt. I look down, trying to avoid looking at his pale (and oh, so fucking hot) stomach that's being exposed at the moment. What is he trying to do to me?
Finally, after awhile more of torture class, the bell rings and everyone tries to hurry out of the classroom, myself included. I lace my fingers with Madison's, attempting to pull her quickly out into the hall.
Of course, fucking girls always ruin everything. She suddenly feels the need to go talk to another girl in our class, leaving me standing awkwardly beside her, and way too close to Brendon's desk.
"I'll see you later, baby," I say, kissing Madison's cheek.
I turn around quickly, ready to make a mad dash out of the room, but I bump into Brendon instead.
"Hey, you going to need a ride home today?" he asks, and I'm standing way too close to him.
"Um, no...I'm good for today," I tell him awkwardly. "Thanks anyway," I continue, hurrying off to my next class.
--
At lunch, I halfway listen to what Jon and some of the other guys at our table are saying, but it's nearly impossible. I've got Brendon on the brain, and he won't fucking. Go. Away. I pull out my cell phone, logging into my AIM messenger. Brendon's online again, so I decide to IM him.
bulletxcharm (12:35:42 PM): hey
parttimelovah (12:37:15 PM): hey, what's going on?
bulletxcharm (12:37:29 PM): not much...eating
bulletxcharm (12:37:30 PM): you?
parttimelovah (12:37:45 PM): grading papers...always fun
bulletxcharm (12:38:07 PM): mhm sounds like it
bulletxcharm (12:38:33 PM): was that your real number you wrote down today?
parttimelovah (12:38:53 PM): lol no ryan, i gave the class a fake phone number
bulletxcharm (12:39:03 PM): well, you never know....
parttimelovah (12:39:25 PM): haha yeah it's my real number, why?
bulletxcharm (12:39:41 PM): cuz i kinda..maybe wanted to call you tonight?
parttimelovah (12:40:30 PM): ooh, what for?
bulletxcharm (12:40:46 PM): i don't know...nevermind
parttimelovah (12:41:02 PM): no, no it's fine
parttimelovah (12:41:04 PM): you can call me
bulletxcharm (12:41:43 PM): kay :P
parttimelovah (12:43:18 PM): so what are you doing?
bulletxcharm (12:43:46 PM): eating..i told you that already
parttimelovah (12:44:18 PM): lol sorry :P
parttimelovah (12:45:45 PM): so how come you don't wanna ride home w/ me? :P
bulletxcharm (12:45:59 PM): ...
bulletxcharm (12:46:12 PM): kinda scared, i guess :x
parttimelovah (12:46:24 PM): ?
parttimelovah (12:46:27 PM): scared of what?
bulletxcharm (12:46:29 PM): i don't know
parttimelovah (12:46:43 PM): ryan i'm not going to like...molest you
bulletxcharm (12:46:54 PM): i didn't say that
bulletxcharm (12:47:13 PM): it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing either..i guess that's why i don't want to
parttimelovah (12:47:52 PM): oh...
bulletxcharm (12:49:30 PM): what's 'oh...'
parttimelovah (12:50:06 PM): i figured you wouldn't want to be alone w/ me because you thought i'd make a move on you
parttimelovah (12:50:19 PM): and you like...would freak
bulletxcharm (12:50:41 PM): ...
bulletxcharm (12:50:48 PM): i have to go to art now..ill talk to you tonight?
parttimelovah (12:51:08 PM): uh yeah...ttyl. call any time
bulletxcharm (12:51:13 PM): bye xx
parttimelovah (12:51:24 PM): heh bye
parttimelovah has signed out.
--
I am pretty quiet throughout art, and when Madison is taking me home, she obviously notices that I'm acting different. I am just freaking out though, and I can't help it. It's not like I would mind if Brendon were to make a move on me because he was being plenty forward in class today, but I am supposed to be straight.
I'm such an ass though. I've got my beautiful girlfriend sitting less than a foot away from me, but here I am thinking about another guy. Another guy that just so happens to be my goddamn teacher. I am in way over my head.
"Everything okay?" she asks, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I sigh. "I'm just tired. I'll probably just go home and take a nap."
"You did seem really tired today, baby," she says, pulling into the driveway. "Like you didn't sleep at all last night."
"Didn't get much," I tell her, unbuckling my seatbelt. "I love you."
"I love you too," she says, leaning toward me and pressing a kiss to my lips. "Bye."
"Bye," I say, getting out and going in the house.
--
I pace around my room, tossing my cell phone from one hand to the other. It's nine-thirty already, and I'm hoping Brendon didn't already go to sleep since we stayed up so late last night. This morning. Whatever. I put the phone down long enough to take off my shirt and blue jeans, pulling on a pair of pajama pants to sleep in. I grab my phone again, getting comfortable in my bed before calling Brendon.
It rings four times, and I'm about to hang up when he answers.
"Hello?"
"Brendon?" I ask, unsure.
"Yeah?"
"Oh hey, it's Ryan."
"Hey, what's going on?"
Just listening to the sound of his voice is getting to me, and I try to ignore the already-forming erection in my PJs.
"N-nothing much. You?"
"Not much. Just laying in my bed."
"Tired from staying up all night?"
"I'm not too tired, actually. I took a nap after I got home from school and I'm pretty awake again. How about you?"
"Yeah, I went to sleep too. So...are you going to get online tonight?"
"I might be, yeah. If I can get my lazy ass out of bed to put some clothes on." He laughs quietly and I shift on my bed, not expecting to get turned on by this conversation.
"Not wearing any clothes, huh?" I ask, voice low. "You could just stay in bed and talk to me on the phone if you didn't want to get dressed."
I can already feel a blush creeping across my skin as soon as the words leave my mouth. Just imagining him in his bed, naked, is driving me more insane than it should.
"Nah, I really don't like clothes that much, and I'd rather stay in bed and talk to you anyway."
"So what do you want to talk about?" I ask, fidgeting apprehensively.
"Whatever you want to talk about. You called me, remember?"
"Yeah, I know," I laugh, "But that doesn't mean I know what we should talk about."
He laughs lightly again, and there's a bit of rustling on the other line. "True, true. So what did you do today besides sleep?"
"Well...I went to school, but you know that already," I say, feeling silly. "And I got to see your stomach....that was nice," I laugh nervously.
"Mm, you think so? It's not that nice."
"You should have just taken all of it off," I tell him, wanting to smack myself in the face for it. "It's only fair since you saw me half naked, right?"
"You'd have to take it all off in front of me first. Pictures are different than the real thing, you know."
"Yeah, true," I say quietly. "But still, it would have been really nice."
...
"I'm terrible at this kind of stuff," I admit, laughing.
"Aw, what kind of stuff?"
"Um...this," I start, letting my hand trail down my stomach, pulling my pajama pants down around my thighs. Licking my lips and stroking myself until I'm fully hard, I accidentally let out a quiet moan, praying that he didn't hear it.
"Hmm?"
"Um, what?" I ask, biting my lip to stifle any other noises.
"Did you say something?"
"N-no, didn't say anything," I get out, biting down hard on my lip. "...Keep talking," I urge him, starting to pump myself slowly, getting off on the sound of his voice.
"...About what?"
"Um, I don't kno-" I'm cut off by another embarrassing noise coming from my mouth, and I bite the inside of my cheek, heart hammering.
"Ryan....what are you doing?" Unlike casual conversation, Brendon's voice is somewhat accusing, with traces of amusement, and I can only hope he doesn't know what I'm doing.
"Nothing," I say too quickly, panting. I hold the phone away from my mouth a bit, just in case, and move my hand faster.
"Are you sure? You sound kind of breathless." I can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and I suddenly realize that I don't even care if he knows I'm jerking off anymore.
"I don't k-know what you're t-talking about," I stutter, letting out a breathy, quiet moan.
"Ry, are you touching yourself?"
"Um, no...maybe," I sigh, another noise slipping between my lips. "Fuck."
He laughs breathily, "Do I turn you on, Ryan?"
"Mm...y-yeah," I say breathlessly, my pace getting quicker and a little less rhythmic.
"Would it turn you on more if I told you I was touching myself too?"
"Are you?" I bite my lip and tilt my head back, holding the phone close to my ear and groan quietly. Fuck, the image of Brendon touching himself turns me on even more, and I run my thumb across the head of my cock, spreading precome.
"Mhmm..." He moans, and I follow suit.
Brendon's POV
"Fuck, that's hot..."
"Mm, I bet you look good right now, Ry," I say, breathing heavily and fingering my slit.
Wait, what? Fuck! Ryan Ross, you are jailbait. I'm having phone sex with my student. Jesus. Ryan moans on the other line, and I can't help but start to pump my cock, writhing around a little on the bed.
"God, yeah, you sound fucking hot." I thrust my hips, fucking up into my own fist, and I'm clutching the phone so tightly in my free hand I think it might break soon. A little whimper comes from Ryan's end of the line, and I hear him stutter out my name. Licking my lips and moaning quietly, I purr at him, "C'mon Ryan, talk to me."
"Wh-", his voice cracks, "What are y-you doing?"
Smirking, I decide to milk this for all it's worth. (No pun intended.) "Mm, I'm touching my cock and thinking it's you. Feels so fucking good, nngh," I moan, arching my back and spreading my legs.
"Mm, God...wish you were here with me."
"Bet you'd look so fucking hot laying under me and moaning, Christ," I groan, closing my eyes and imagining how Ryan would look. Fuck.
"Want you to fuck me," he breathes, and I come embarrassingly close to orgasm.
"Oh, fuck, I want you," I moan again, louder, and quicken my hand, dull ache growing in my wrist.
"Unh, Bren, I'm close," Ryan says, making the most delicious noises on the other line.
"Mm...yeah, Ry, fucking cum for me," I moan, pleading with him to hurry because I'm ridiculously close.
He moans louder, moans my fucking name, voice deep and sensual, and I can't help but moan with him and orgasm, pumping myself through it. There's heavy breathing on the line for a minute, and eventually, I laugh a little.
"Did we just...? Oh, man." Ryan laughs too, and I can't help but smile.
"Yeah, I think we did."
"Fuck, that was hot. You sound so good," I say honestly, trailing my hand down my sweaty stomach.
"Um, thanks," he says shyly. "You do, too." After another few minutes of silence, me still trying to regain my breathing, Ryan speaks up. "At least I'm sleepy again."
"Y-yeah," I say, blinking my eyes hard. "I'm...I'm going to go take another shower and...rest."
"I think I'm gonna do the same," he says.
Just for good measure, I figure I'd ask; "Do you have a ride home tomorrow?"
"I d-don't think so," he says.
"Well, you want to...like," I trail off, hoping he gets the picture.
"Want to like, what?" Obviously, he doesn't.
"I could...give you a ride. Somewhere..."
"And where would this somewhere be?" Now the kid's teasing me? I inwardly sigh.
"Where ever you want to go." A ride in my lap would be nice.
Silence.
"Brendon?"
"Yeah?"
"Oh, just making sure you were still there. So...did you have anywhere in mind?"
"Yeah, I'm here. And, like, you can just...I could take to your house? Or maybe you could come here, if you wanted," I stumble out quickly, feeling awkward.
"Kay, we can talk about it tomorrow. I'm gonna go shower now."
"All right. I'll see you tomorrow. G'night."
"Night, Bren. Thanks for the...y-you know," he says, and I smile.
"Heh, no problem. Call me any time you want, Ry. Bye."
"Bye."
...
Well, fuck.