Brendon Urie: Imagines and ficlets

Silly sweet dreams (optional scene from the Slow Unraveling)

Some of your dreams about him are silly ones. It's after Christmas, but you have a Hallowe'en dream: you and B deciding to be Batman and Robin, debating which of you should be which. You both want Batman, but he is totally a Robin type. You trump him by calling him your bitch. He gets mad, stomping around but funnily, saying he is not. You feel bad, mean, even in the dream. Why'd you do that even if you said it while laughing. When girls are called it it's to say they're too tough and should know their place, and boys to say they're soft, to toughen up, be better than girls. The word hurts the both of you.

"You are definitely my puppy though." He loves that, comes over, curls up, sitting in your lap for pets and giggly good boys.

He grins, woofing, wriggling his bum in your lap like a tail. "Yeah, I'm definitely your pup. 'm yours." Yours. Not like you own him, but like he's yielding to you, belongs with you. And you'll always love your puppy, giving him raspberries on his cheeks as he giggles, and does it back. Wresting, he lets you win, and because it's a dream, you hump him him silly, him humping back, even when he rolls over, wriggling into your pelvis, you on top, feeling close... close, but not quite coming.

You wind up being Batman. He looks so cute in the little outfit too. Batman totally smooches Robin now. And humps him too, apparently.

Switch to Wonder Woman, only you're both her because B knows she's cooler than Superman too. He looks so pretty in make up, those heels, even the wig. It's discombobulating. You both think the other looks prettier. You joke that if he was wearing his glasses then looked in the mirror he'd want to kiss himself, that's how pretty he looked. This just makes him think about how he wants to kiss you, but doesn't want to do anything to mess up your friendship. Only you can hear what he's thinking, how sad it makes him, even though those sad soft eyes make you feel like you need to wrap him up and comfort him in themselves.

You squeeze him to you, kiss his cheeks, saying it's ok. You manage to look down. "I must admit, I do have better cleavage. But your ass looks better in those booty shorts." More kisses all over his face as you swat his ass, cup it, and oh boy do you want to kiss him on the mouth, feel those gorgeous lips of his on yours. You're back to confused about him, thinking he seems like he likes girls and boys. Sometimes—no, let's be honest—lots of the time you wonder if he does, or could, like you like you too. You wake up before that one can be, uh, resolved, along the lines of other one.

Another costume dream is you in those formal school band uniforms, even though your school doesn't have them (you wear black slacks or skirts with white button tops). He takes off the cap so you ruffle his hair, teasing him about how he looks so cute in it. He doesn't believe it but he blushes anyway. You kiss his cheek, then hug him for a long time, nose in his neck, swaying and squeezing him, tickly, flip floppy arousal in your lower belly and snatch. B pulls away flustered, holding the hat in front of his crotch and now you're getting flustered, because he's... oh. He's got those feelings too. You wonder if he's just going to wish it down, if he'll think about it later when he's... oh god. You want to feel it pressed to you, see it, all of him, feel it in your hand... You're nervous but even more turned on now... Wouldn't it be crazy if it was normal for guys and girls to touch themselves in front of each other? If you weren't so shy, you'd invite him to watch and be watched...

Thankfully the dream skips ahead to it: making out with him while both of you worked over yourselves, frenching him through the moans. Pulling away, his mouth following, as you touched yourself more. He really likes seeing you like that, kissing your neck, face, lips, still stroking himself, then rocking on the bed, murmuring about how much he wants to see you come, god you're so hot. Mouth trailing lower, hand on your hip, tummy, pelvis, softly suckling your breasts as you rock against your fingers massaging up and down over your clit, upper lips. His thigh nudging yours open to rub on. "Do you even know how hot n sexy you doing this is?..." Before you decide to switch or not, you're grinding on him, his dick and balls warm and flushed on your thigh, pelvis too, moving together, him sliding inside your pussy, then back out, like you sometimes dip in a finger or two while masturbating, rubbing slickly over your clit and lips, rolling over so you're on top, aching with needing him, to come... .

You come this time. Twice you bet as you think about it while awake, pussy all slick, getting fuller as you wriggle around, thighs pressed together, flexing, getting the blanket between your thighs, continuing it...

You can't decide if you should or shouldn't let yourself think like this about your best friend. But you don't stop, get up to shower, until you've come three more times. Even then, you lay down in the bath some, the water flowing over your snatch, not liking how dry it makes you feel, not allowing any slick, but loving how it gets you so turned on, pulling away once you get too noisy, calming some. Getting close, but not coming, it crashing over you hard but not enough to burst, makes you noisiest. You go back to it, managing to come because you came earlier (the faucet only works if it's a third or so orgasm), butt and legs tense, hips rocking, legs shaking on the wall.