Rating: Nc-17
When two people connect with each other, they find themselves falling into sync. That's why Brendon's found that when Ryan runs his hand through his own hair, he reaches up to do the same, and when he catches Ryan shooting him a heated look across the practice room he's startled because he was honestly about to do just that. It's also why Brendon likes this the best; the significant hitches in Ryan's breathing that collide with the stutters of his own, the tiny twitches that he finds himself mirroring.
Brendon sighs contentedly, dancing his fingers over Ryan's body almost gracefully as his skin responds to every fleeting touch. The best things are small, when he has Ryan to himself, but to be quite honest, he’ll take whatever he can get.
"Brendon," he gasps, and Brendon gets the feeling that if his eyes weren't covered he'd be glaring. Only for show, but he would.
Brendon blindfolded him around a half-hour ago. It wasn't spur-of-the-moment, they've done it before. He's pretty sure the image will be burned across the backs of his eyelids forever. As much as Ryan claims he doesn't like being teased, his harsh intakes of breath and pleasured groans that he bites back determinedly, they give him away every time.
Ryan's teeth dig into his lower lip, trying to stem the hiss of, "S-stop, stop teasing."
"Ross, you love it," Brendon returns as he lets his hands skate along the line of his hipbones, fingers dragging around his cock but never quite touching. He likes this, likes seeing him this way. His hands are tied, too, skinny wrists knotted together expertly with the soft fabric of one of Ryan's multitude of scarves, the cousin of the one covering his eyes. The material is threaded around one of the bars of the headboard, keeping his arms stretched above his head. Ryan is laid out completely naked on his back, with Brendon sitting atop his thighs, and Brendon can't stop looking, can't seem to fit it all into his mind, the pale skin and the slight jut of his ribs, exaggerated by how his arms are pulled just taut enough.
He bends his head down to place a light, ticklish kiss just under his ribcage, and Ryan jumps, unexpecting. "Brendon," he says, "seriously," and Brendon recognises the tone, edged with a little more desperation. A shiver runs through him.
He grins, even though there's no one to see, as he watches Ryan's hands flex in the bonds. It had been a precaution; he'd wanted him to be still, stay still, but he knows Ryan better than he knows himself sometimes, knows he wouldn't comply. "Hold onto the headboard," he'd told him, just to prove himself right, and Ryan's fingers had disobediently uncurled one too many times.
Ryan shifts stubbornly underneath Brendon's weight on his thighs, pushing upwards for any kind of purchase, and Brendon tuts, amused.
"Do you want me to tie your legs down, too? You've got enough pointless scarves, don't think I won't do it," he laughs. Ryan huffs, but his movements still at the words.
Smirking with satisfaction, Brendon relents slightly and ghosts light fingers across the crown of Ryan's cock, watching the change in his face, surprise written into the slack line of his mouth. He strokes slowly down and back up twice with a loose fist, and Ryan groans quietly as he tries and fails to snap his hips upwards for more, faster, better. Keeping the motion of his hand going, Brendon leans forward until his lips brush the shell of his ear, breathes feathery kisses onto the skin there that make Ryan whine and twist his head blindly into the touch. "Fuck, fuck," he gasps, "Brendon, fuck."
Babbling curses continue to fall from Ryan's soft lips when Brendon moves his hand away from his dick, a long string of meaningless words, please and Brendon and want and more, so much so that if anyone could hear, they might assume he was distressed or uncomfortable. As a matter of fact, it was all Ryan's idea, Ryan who had first asked, begged to be pinned down, to be taken, so many months ago; had first confessed to Brendon with shame-tinted cheeks exactly what he's always wanted and needed, to have just the right amount of control taken from him, and Brendon knew.
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."
Ryan moans, loud and desperate, hands pulling at the bonds, instinctively reaching for Brendon.
"I want you to keep quiet for me," Brendon whispers harshly as he pushes himself up, away from Ryan's cock and rolls a condom on him, slicking him with enough lube to still feel. "Can you do that?"
One last keening sound tumbles from Ryan's lips and, after a few moments pass, he gives a defiant nod. Brendon's insides turn to liquid and God, he thought he couldn't get any more turned on, but the sight of Ryan's lips pressed tightly together, blocking any sound from escaping, is enough to make his brain melt and his cock harden. He presses a soft, assuring kiss to his lips, innocent almost, before pulling back.
"Good," Brendon breathes, lining Ryan's dick up with his entrance. He knows he's probably not stretched nearly enough, but he doesn't mind, likes the burn and the tiny pinpricks of pain. Breathing heavily, letting the noises float down into Ryan's ears and tease at his senses, Brendon drops his hips just enough so the head of his cock pushes at his entrance, forcing until it's inside and Brendon can't quite suppress a dirty moan. He glances down at Ryan, the blindfold tight over his eyes, fingers clenching and curling over nothing; his chest is moving quickly and his bottom lip is sucked between his teeth.
Brendon spares an almost-moment to feel proud of how quiet he is, how much he wants to do what Brendon said, but as he sinks down further it's forgotten. Ryan's nearly buried all the way inside of him and fuck, fuck, it's only been a matter of minutes but Brendon's already love-drunk, flying high on the feeling of too much too soon.
"Don't, don't come," Brendon says roughly as soon as the idea sparks in his head. "Not 'till I say, n-not 'till I do. Can you?"
After a trembling breath, Ryan swallows thickly and nods, and Brendon can feel his eyes burning into his, right through the fabric and the stitching.
Bracing his hands on Ryan's chest, he takes a shuddery breath in and slips down further, seating himself on his cock. "Oh, oh," he whimpers, his eyes falling shut against the feeling of being so perfectly filled. "Oh, god-- Ryan, Ryan," trips out of his mouth, wrapped in a moan as he uses shaky arms to heave himself upwards and slowly, sweetly, drop down again. He can feel the tiny thrusts of Ryan's hips, knows how much he's trying to do but can't without the right leverage. Brendon lifts and drops his hips again, setting a steady rhythm and watching Ryan's cheeks and chest flush a delicate pink as he sucks air in through his nose, keeping his lips in a tight, sealed line until they fall apart in a stifled gasp.
As Brendon works his hips faster, Ryan's breaths become more ecstatic, more overwhelmed, and he arches his back, trying for more closeness, the closeness his hips can't get at. Brendon feels a tweak at his heartstrings. He leans down while keeping his hips moving and kisses him firmly, fisting his hands in his mussed-up hair and fingering at the knot at the back of his head playfully. Ryan smiles contentedly against his mouth, and Brendon thinks it tastes golden.
He shifts a little and gasps loudly into Ryan's mouth, sucking his breath away as his cock presses up just right inside. Everything's suddenly tinged with a vague haze as he pants against Ryan's shining lips, the head of his cock nudging exactly there, and he automatically tightens his muscles around him, nerves on fire. "Fuck, Bren," Ryan groans abruptly, loud and clear, and then he snaps his mouth shut quickly, pecking at Brendon's lips by way of apology.
"It's okay, it's okay," Brendon says, "so hot like this, so fucking gorgeous; I want to hear you, Ry, come on. It's okay." He thinks he perhaps should have carried on, made him hold out for longer, but he'd have to be fucking crazy to miss this.
Ryan immediately moans as Brendon straightens up and crashes into the same rhythm as before, and the noise sends electricity jumping up and down Brendon's spine. It tapers off into words, a low stream of, "Oh my fucking-- you-- oh, God, Brendon." Disjointed phrases and mumbled nothings keep stumbling from his mouth, nearing on out-of-control, and Brendon's blood runs hot at the sight of him throwing his head back and letting himself unravel underneath him. "Untie me, let me touch you," Ryan rasps, and Brendon can feel his eyes roaming over Brendon's face and down, down to his flushed dick, doesn't need to see them, can imagine it perfectly well. Has seen them wide and blown too many times to simply forget.
Brendon almost doesn't hear him, can't focus on anything but the hot drag of Ryan deep inside him and the feel of Ryan spread out for him, only for him. He only shakes his head feverishly in reply, too preoccupied working himself into a frenzy on Ryan's cock, too lost in all the sensation. He's sweating, he can feel the droplets trickling in his damp hair and rolling down the back of his neck, following the inward curve of his spine, but it's okay because the scarf over Ryan's eyes is sticking to his skin and his chest is slick under Brendon's wandering hands.
Slowing down, he grinds his hips into Ryan's, sultry and seductive and shivering at the feel of him as deep as he can get. He rotates his pelvis in little circles and Ryan moans helplessly, wrists tugging restless in the bonds. The older boy's breath hitches and he makes a high, soft noise, and Brendon knows that noise, knows what it means all too well. "Brendon, I'm..."
"Don't come," Brendon reminds him, a slight hint of an obnoxious tone to his voice, and Ryan whines. Trailing one hand down Ryan's chest to his stomach, he wraps his fingers around his own cock, his rhythm stuttering as he starts to jerk himself. "Just," he gasps, "just a little, I." Ryan echoes his moan as he swipes his thumb across the wet tip of his cock and raises his hips up almost all the way before slamming down hard. Ryan's head tosses on the pillow and his unruly hair stands out stark against the white, moans and little gasps spilling from his lips, and Brendon can't get enough of how wild he is, how much control he's giving over for him to do as he pleases with. "Close, Ryan," he manages to choke out, and Ryan groans in response.
Brendon can feel how hard he is, burning hot inside him, can sense how much he's trying to hold back, and he quickens the movements of his hand as the slide becomes slicker.
"Do you, do you wish this was your hand?" Brendon stutters, looking down at him, biting his lip. "Fuck, you do," he breathes, and Ryan sucks in a breath, grasping some strength from out of nowhere, and bucks his hips up sharply with a grunt as Brendon lifts his. The move gets him plunged in deeper than deep, knocking Brendon's breath clean out of his lungs. His vision whites out, stars explode behind his eyelids as Ryan's cock bumps into his prostate, and he gasps out Ryan's name, letting go with a shudder and a jerk of his hand as his orgasm hits him.
He comes all over Ryan's chest, hitting his jaw, his chin, even the surprised 'o' of his lips, a possessive twist fizzling in the bottom of his gut. His jaw goes slack as he watches Ryan's sly, pink tongue flick out at the nearest drops and over Brendon's taste. Brendon keeps working himself on Ryan's dick even after he's gotten off, twitching and thrumming all over as the sensitivity tingles and hums under his skin, and it feels almost like too much, but not enough.
Ryan's whimpering, "Please, please, please," under his breath, his cock still rock-hard and swollen inside Brendon, and he eases himself up off of him.
Shushing him soothingly, he rolls the condom off gently, each touch from him drawing a gasp from Ryan, and after discarding it, he murmurs, "Wait," and pets at his quivering hip. A broken moan escapes from the boy above him and he brushes his lips over the head of his cock. Ryan jerks, surprised and not knowing what to expect. "Now," he says softly, breath washing over the tip of his dick, and he fits an inch of him into his mouth without preamble as Ryan groans gratefully, shakes and comes apart.
Brendon doesn't swallow, new ideas swirling in his head, and without allowing himself time to think about it he crawls up the bed, close enough to Ryan that he can cradle his head in his hands, and he nudges his nose with his own before sealing their lips together. Ryan opens up for him and he mentally crosses his fingers that he's judged this right as he moves his tongue to push a portion of what's in his mouth through Ryan's parted lips. He makes a startled sound at the sudden taste but accepts it eagerly, keeping their mouths pressed tight together. He watches the pale line of Ryan's throat work unashamedly and, after swallowing his half at the same time, he grins against Ryan's lips and peppers kisses along his chin and his jaw, catching all the traces. "Bren," Ryan whispers, sounding at a loss for any better words, and Brendon quietens him with another deep kiss.
Refusing to detach their lips, Brendon reaches up and fumbles with the makeshift blindfold, pushing the strip of material up his forehead and over his messy hair. He pulls away so he can see the honey eyes he was already missing so much, has to see even before he unties his wrists, and when he looks they're dancing with a hidden smile. "You're amazing, you know?" he says suddenly, swallowing and gazing unblinking into his eyes. He doesn't usually voice these things, thoughts from the hopeless romantic inside him, but he doesn't know when he'll really get the chance, can't be sure how long it will be until they're totally alone again.
And Ryan, he's obviously thinking the same things and Brendon thanks his fucking stars, because he stretches to kiss Brendon's temple and replies simply, "Yeah. When I've got you."