Ryden Oneshots

Candyboy

Before he could even blink, the blur of the night had passed, and they were on the bus in the dead of night, headed for the next town and the next show. Jon and Spencer had already crawled into their bunks, and Brendon was puttering around in the kitchenette, leaving Ryan to finish coming down from the high on his own, in the back lounge.

Brendon wandered back before long, though, his pajama pants riding low on his hips, and the stick of his lollipop poking out of the corner of his mouth. Ryan rolled his eyes and grinned as Brendon twirled the stick as he hopped onto the other side of the couch.

"So. Was it good for you?" Brendon asked, cheeky grin around his lollipop. Brendon had never been subtle.

Ryan snorted, but he had to admit, he could relate. "I don't think anything ever felt as good."

Brendon's eyes widened, and his grin broadened impossibly further. "I can think of a few things that come close, but... yeah, that was pretty damn good."

Brendon crunched the remaining last bit of his candy, and leaned over to toss the stick into the trash. When he sat back onto the couch, absently scratching his belly where his tee-shirt had ridden up, Ryan couldn't help but stare for a moment. He was about to flick his eyes to the television, but he found his gaze caught by Brendon's. Apparently, Ryan had some subtlety issues of his own.

Brendon was grinning, though, so he evidently hadn't minded Ryan's peaking at his tummy. Ryan found himself helplessly grinning back. And before he knew it, Brendon was crawling over to him, and actually over him, wiggling until Ryan was stretched on his back, Brendon pressed on top of him in the V of Ryan's legs.

"You've been playing hard to get," Brendon whispered hotly in Ryan's ear.

Ryan shivered violently, and swallowed hard. "I wasn't playing." And he really wasn't.

Brendon pulled his mouth away from Ryan's ear, and looked him in the eye, so serious, not even blinking. "I'm not playing either."

Ryan closed his eyes as Brendon leaned in, his lips brushing Ryan's-- so soft, so tentative, so unexpectedly familiar and yet completely new-- before pressing more firmly, and Ryan opened his mouth on a soft gasp. Brendon took full advantage, thrusting his candy-sweet tongue past Ryan's lips, licking into him as they began to rock against each other, Ryan's hard cock rubbing next to Brendon's, between both their flat bellies.

Memories from long ago flooded Ryan's mind. Lush, decadent lips, the sweet taste of candy, the clever, clever tongue that tickled the roof of Ryan's mouth... the most mouthwatering, delicious kisses of his life, until just this moment, until he had Brendon's luxurious mouth.

Ryan's head spun, he was so dizzy with feeling so good, clutching Brendon's shoulder with one hand, and one of Brendon's generous ass cheeks with the other, while Brendon stole his breath with more deep, wet kisses that tasted of strawberry candy.

He was close, so close already, and when Brendon closed his mouth around Ryan's tongue, sucking to the rhythm of their bodies rubbing together, the sensations collided, ignited, and Ryan came, so hard. Brendon kept kissing him all the way through it, another few moments of Brendon's hips working against him, until Brendon moaned into Ryan's mouth, a low, deep sound that vibrated from Brendon's chest to Ryan's.

Brendon released his mouth at last, and sighed softly, a whisper of breath against Ryan's cheek.

Ryan shuddered... it couldn't be!

"Ry?" Brendon whispered, "Hey... Ryan? You with me? What's wrong?"

Ryan shook his head, eyes clenched tightly shut. Just in case. He didn't let go of Brendon, though, one hand still gripping Brendon's shoulder, the other with a death-grip on Brendon's ass.

"Ry, come on... look at me."

Ryan shook his head again. "I can't."

Brendon huffed, sounding a little pissy, and the rational part of Ryan's brain could understand it, but the irrational part of his brain was still in command and was telling him that his new boyfriend is a living urban legend who can turn his johnson to jello, and so he kept his eyes very definitely shut.

"Somehow I don't think you're disgusted, since you still have a healthy chunk of my ass in your hand," Brendon said a second later. "Are you, like, embarrassed that you shot your wad in like thirty seconds, or something?"

"Um. Yeah, let's go with that," Ryan replied.

Brendon kissed him again, warm and sweet, and oh yeah, those were the same, sweet lips. Sure, it had been four years ago, but there was a reason Ryan called that mouth to him every night for a week back then.

"Are you ever going to look at me?" Brendon asked, sounding more amused than anything, now.

"Someday." Ryan sighed. He'd have to look at Brendon eventually, he knew. How the hell could he go the rest of the tour, the rest of his life, and never look at him again?

Brendon chuckled softly. "Okay. But this is getting a little weird. Not that I mind your hand on my ass, or even the finger-shaped bruises I'm probably going to have on that cheek."

Ryan took a deep breath, and with great fear in his heart, cracked one eye open. Brendon looked down at him, mouth quirked into a very amused grin. It was too soon to tell if he'd be able to get a boner again, but he went ahead and opened the other eye anyway.

"There. Was that so bad?" Brendon asked.

Ryan shrugged. "I'll let you know in about half an hour."

Ryan finally let go of Brendon's ass to pull the throw blanket down over them, and resettled his hand at the small of Brendon's back. The lethargy of orgasm along with a long night performing finally took its toll, and Ryan drifted off.

To his dying day, he'd swear to himself that he was just dreaming when he heard Brendon whisper to him, "You were always my favorite."

The End.