Ryden Smut

Who Could Ask For Anymore?

Who Could Ask For Anymore? by @ heavyheart on LiveJournal
http://heavyhart.livejournal.com/42472.html

Brendon wrapped his fingers around one of Ryan's bony wrists and slowly pulled him off of the hotel bed until he was standing up next to it. "You're freaking out."

Ryan looked confused and disheveled, having been pulled up from the nest of blankets and pillows he had made for himself. "What? No I'm not."

"You're listening to the song on repeat on your iPod."

Ryan tried not to look so utterly caught, but his iPod and the lyric sheet were lying right there, amongst the blankets. "... So."

Brendon smiled, letting go of Ryan's wrist so he could pull him close and wrap his arms around him, hugging Ryan to his body. "I have a plan. To relax you."

"But I need to--"

Brendon's hands slid down and grabbed Ryan's ass. "To relax you."

Ryan bit his lip but didn't say anything, just nodded. Brendon could be pretty weird (Jon and Spencer and Ryan were in agreement that they didn't like it when Brendon used the word "plan," especially when said plan involved the exchange of Ryan's ass for goods and/or services (and it almost always did)), but Ryan trusted the other boy more than he trusted himself sometimes. And anyway, the worst that could happen is that they fuck. Which, you know, really wouldn't be that bad.

Brendon took Ryan's wrist again and led him to the bathroom of their hotel room. He pulled back the shower curtain and turned the water on, adjusting the temperature until it was to his liking.

"We have to take our--clothes OFF!" Brendon sang falsetto, tugging Ryan's shirt up over his head. Ryan smiled despite himself, and Brendon got that stupid smug look on his face like he was doing something right. Ryan was maybe a little bit in love with that look.

Brendon pulled off his own shirt, poking Ryan's stomach after his shirt hit the floor. "I wasn't just singing, get naked, dude." Brendon reached down for the drawstring on Ryan's sweatpants, tugging at it. Ryan's skinny hips were barely enough to keep any pants up on their own.

"I don't think fucking will make me less nervous," Ryan commented, the cool air of the hotel leaving goosebumps on his skin and making him miss his nest of blankets. Ryan stared as Brendon worked to get his pants off of his legs. Ryan stepped out of the rest of his clothes and Brendon looked very pleased with himself, his hair sticking up a little from when he took his shirt off.

"I prefer the term making love, thankyouverymuch, and don't you worry about what I do or don't do to make you less nervous. Get in the shower."

Ryan rolled his eyes, but stepped into the tub anyway, quickly followed by a naked Brendon Urie. Ryan instantly melted under the spray of the hot water pounding down onto his skin. He brushed his now-wet hair our of his eyes and felt Brendon's arms circle around his waist from behind.

"Let's get you clean first," Brendon said, voice slightly muffled by the water, but Ryan noticed it was less playful than before. Brendon was pretty good at keeping a steady balance between cuddley-Brendon and fuck-you-'til-you-scream-Brendon. As Brendon petted Ryan's stomach idly, fingernails lightly scraping across the soft skin, Ryan really, really sort of hoped he was taking a shower with the latter.

Brendon let go of Ryan and squirted some body wash onto his hands, rubbing them together and making soapy suds before he placed his hands on Ryan's shoulders. Brendon worked his fingers into the tense muscles of Ryan's shoulders and upper back, pressing his thumbs hard into the knots and slowly working them out, smiling sweetly as the older boy leaned back into his touch.