Ryden Oneshots

But Sweeter

The part that didn't make sense, at first glance, was the spoon.

Because apparently Ryan had walked in on Brendon sitting in the booth on the bus staring at some kind of strangely-colored sex toy set up on the table in front of him, and, okay, whatever, but why did he have a spoon in his hand?

Then Ryan took a step closer and realized that the sex toy was made of food--the shiny red tip was a cherry, and the shaft was... probably a banana? It was coated in something goopy and white and something speckled-brown, and the whole thing was planted in a pineapple ring at the base like a cock ring keeping it up.

That explained the spoon, but it sort of un-explained everything else about this picture. "Brendon?"

"Hm?" Brendon said. He had the same quiet, mopey look on his face he'd had for the last few days, and he was just staring at his fruit-dick thing and clutching a spoon.

"What is that?"

Brendon sighed, leaning over to prop his chin in his hand and glancing up at Ryan and then back down at the fruit-dick.

"Candle salad," he said. He didn't blush or stutter, and it wasn't the elaborately casual way he would have said it if this were some kind of joke.

"Candle salad," Ryan repeated carefully, waiting for the punchline.

Brendon just nodded, staring at it. "My mom used to make it, and I've been feeling kind of..."

He waved his spoon, and Ryan stared at it, mesmerized. Brendon was staring at his fruit-dick and talking about his mom, and honestly, why did people ever, ever think Ryan was the weird one?

"I called and asked her for the recipe, and I don't think it's possible to really screw it up. I mean, it looks right. But I'm kind of scared it won't taste how I remember."

"How you." Ryan seriously did not believe this. Brendon was homesick for a dildo made of fruit and some kind of white goop. "Remember."

Brendon finally looked up at him, frowning slightly. "Yes, how I remember. Are you just going to stand there and repeat every fucking thing I say?"

"Brendon," Ryan said, his voice coming out a little strangled as he looked down at the fruit-dick again. "Are you going to look at what you're about to put in your mouth?"

Brendon frowned harder, and then made a stage-worthy show of looking down at it. His hand clenched hard on the spoon, and then Ryan watched a bright, painful blush wash over his face. The fruit-dick wobbled when Brendon slammed the spoon down and stood up.

"Fuck you," Brendon snapped, shoving past Ryan on his way back to the bunks. "Now it's never going to taste right."

Ryan winced behind Brendon's back. He still hadn't looked really angry, just stricken. This was not going to help the moping.

The fruit-dick just stood there on the table, cherry tip glistening. Ryan moved closer, leaning over it and then giving up and sliding into the spot where Brendon had been sitting to inspect it more carefully. When he was near enough to smell it, he realized the white goop coating the banana was some kind of sweet whipped cream--the banana had been dipped in it, and then rolled in... crushed corn flakes? So this was some unholy combination of breakfast and a banana split, minus the ice cream. With a cherry on top.

Ryan eyed the spoon, eyed the fruit-dick, and shuddered at the thought. He leaned closer to it, instead, sniffing the sugar until his mouth watered. He parted his lips, lowering his mouth almost onto it, and lowered his tongue to flick the cherry from the tip into his mouth.