Girl Can SING (Brendon Urie Fanfic)

Alone Together

Dallon turned on a movie on the bus' small tv. Everyone plopped down, having enjoyed the day off from touring. You didn't have a single second alone with Brendon today. It had been weeks.

Brendon sits down next to you and you lean against him. Towards the end of the movie, the sun had gone down and the bus was shrouded in darkness. You feel Brendon's finger on your knee, beginning to trace up your leg. It continues up underneath your dress. You bite your lip. He begins to draw circles on the inside of your thighs. You inhale quickly and shift minutely on the cushions.

He's getting closer and closer to your core and you grab his wrist and dig your nails in to stop him. You can practically feel him smirking. He always did shit like this, teasing you. You hated it. You loved it. Goddammit.

The credits start to roll and Brendon keeps his hands to himself, knowing the lights would flick on soon. Sure enough, the room illuminated and you and Brendon look completely normal.

The boys all had bunks in the back of the bus. You had the bunk in the front of the bus, one that's lofted above the driver's seat. All of you got ready for bed and you climbed up to your bunk.

The lights turn off and you hear Dallon calling out goodnight in his best mock-dad voice. You giggle. You lay there awake and all you could think about is Brendon's hands on your body. After losing your virginity, you find are surprised to discover you are not a very vanilla girl. The way Brendon speaks to you in that filthy voice and screws you so hard... It's exactly what you never knew you wanted.

God it's been so long, and after the little stunt he pulled during the movie, you're still wet. You think about maybe taking care of yourself, but it's just not the same. Brendon is what makes it special.

You have to have been lying there for over an hour when you hear footsteps and someone coming up the ladder. The curtain parts and Brendon's head pops inside.

"Brendon?" You whispered disbelievingly.

He crawled in and paused with a devilish smile.

"Hi," He greeted you, completely still. He suddenly pounces, straddling you. His lips crashed onto yours and his hands slide up under your shirt to grasp your breasts. You are taken aback.

"Brendon!" You whisper and giggle.

He starts to plant kisses down your neck.

"Brendon!" you say quietly, "We can't do this here! The boys are right there!"

"Then we'll be quiet," He smiles and shrugs proudly.

"Brendon, we–"

He rudely interrupts you by dragging the hard bulge in his boxers over your crotch.

"Oh–god," you shudder and can't help but push your hips up to his.

"Hmmm, what was that?" he teases, "About not wanting to do this?" He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow.

"You're the fucking worst," you say, rolling your eyes.

"Oh really? Seems like you're enjoying yourself to me." You want to smack that cocky smirk off his face. Instead, you cup his hard on. He exhales.

"Jesus Bren, did you come prepared?" You narrowed your eyes and gave him that same smirk, "You're so fucking hard." Suddenly he slipped his hand into your panties. You suppress a gasp.

"And you, Y/n, are quite prepared yourself," he quipped, "You're soaked, huh?"

"I have been since the fucking movie." You reply, accidentally showing your impatience.