Oneshots | Ryden

When I've Got You

He trails a hand up Ryan's body and rubs the rough pads of his fingers over his nipples, the whimpered sounds escaping like a melody to his ears. As he rolls the skin between his fingers, Ryan starts to pant, arching his back as much as he can in the bonds, and Brendon's skin prickles at how responsive he is like this.

Brendon rolls off him briefly, catching his breathy whine at the loss of contact and the buck of his hips just at the edge of his vision before he tugs his own underwear down over his ass and throws them carelessly across the room, leaving him just as bare as Ryan. He lets out a breath he didn't know he had been holding as his cock is finally unrestricted, he's so hard and he didn't even realise, so focused on Ryan, bound and willing and his completely.

"Brendon--" Ryan's head is turned in Brendon's general direction, searching for him in the dark, and Brendon can't help smiling.

When he comes back, he murmurs, "Shh, I'm right here," as he settles himself in his original place on Ryan's thighs and infuriatingly close to his dick. He's holding a small bottle of lube now, and he pops the cap with an audible click. Ryan sucks in a breath, craning his neck to see even though he can't. "Are you..." Ryan says.

Brendon waits, silent, for him to fill in the rest of his sentence.

"Are you going to fuck me?" he rushes out quickly, sounding desperate just for some confirmation, and Brendon swallows a groan just at the words, the pictures they spin into his mind.

He considers. "No," he replies lowly. Ryan whines, his lips half-parted, and he tilts his body forward so his stomach brushes Ryan's cock a fraction, just enough to reach behind himself with slick fingers.

Ryan moans brokenly at the friction, it's not enough, and Brendon can feel him trying to grapple for more under Brendon's weight. He splays a hand across Ryan's sternum, falling into the fast up and down of his erratic breaths. Brendon presses his lips to Ryan's as he circles his finger around his own entrance, a startled sound mingling between their mouths at how forcefully Ryan responds, pushing into Brendon's mouth and biting at his lips.

"I could," Brendon murmurs against his mouth, "I could do anything, when you're like this. I could, and you'd let me."

Ryan moans, jerky nods of his head apparently the only coherent reply he can come up with. Taking a breath, Brendon slips a finger inside himself, pressing in hard and as deep as he can at the angle, gasping into Ryan's mouth. He moans, not holding anything back because he knows hearing will drive Ryan crazy, and thrusts his finger fast and rough. Ryan's breath catches in his throat and, squirming a little, he says, "Bren, what..." and trails off at another harsh moan from Brendon. "Oh, god," he groans, biting his lip, and Brendon knows he's realised what he's doing.

"I could straddle your chest," Brendon muses, carrying on seamlessly if a little breathless, "fuck your mouth. I know you can take it. Could just hold onto the headboard and let you swallow me down, let you gag yourself on me." He breaks off into a satisfied "Mm," as he slips another finger in, stretching and scissoring and soaking up the burn.

Brendon can see him struggling to retain a single ounce of composure, something to hold himself together. "Brendon," he groans, "fuck, I just, please, please."

Brendon loves that he's not above begging. He digs his fingernails into the skin of Ryan's chest and shifts forwards so their hard cocks bump together, and grinds down. Watching Ryan tip his head back and moan as their hips roll together clumsily, he can't help but feel a little smug. They line up at the perfect angle and Brendon's breath abandons him. "I could do that," he says raggedly, "but." A third finger pushes in and opens him up, too hasty but so good, and he hisses through his teeth. "I don't think I can wait."