Ryden Oneshots

Tickled Pink

.:. Rating : NC-17 .:.

Summary: Brendon is the king of tickling. Who knew that would be what finally won Ryan over?

*kink warning:D*

“Brendon, stop it, Jesus,” Ryan says, smacking at his hands. “Come on, stop it.”

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain, I see,” Spencer muses. “So soon our children learn to sin.”

“Your impression of my mother is creepy as fuck,” Brendon says, not turning his head towards Spencer. He doesn’t stop trying to tickle Ryan, because whatever, Ryan is not immune from tickling just because his life is shitty. “Yeah, take it!” Brendon whoops, catching Ryan under one flailing arm. “Who’s your master now!”

Ryan makes a noise and pushes Brendon off the couch, falling after him until they’re tangled up half under the Smiths’ coffee table, Brendon still trying to tickle Ryan and Ryan mostly trying to punch Brendon.

“Try not to kill each other,” Spencer says, and wanders out towards the kitchen.

“Try and stop me,” Ryan mumbles, giving up on getting enough space to punch Brendon and just wrestling him instead. Brendon can totally handle that, he is the champion of that.

“I am the wrestling champion,” he says, just so it’s on the table. “I will wrestle your face.”

“I wrestled your mom’s face onto my dick,” Ryan says, and Brendon obviously has to defend his mother’s honor by rolling them in the half-foot of space they’ve got so Ryan’s back is up against the couch, and then recommencing tickling him.

“Oh man, Ross, you have messed with the wrong mother—shut your mouth!” Brendon is of the opinion that a Shaft reference is never out of place, no matter the circumstances, although his social studies teacher claims to disagree. But whatever.

“Seriously, cut it out,” Ryan says, and his voice is hilarious, high and weird, and Brendon is totally going to start making fun of him for being a total girl about tickling except—except girls don’t get erections, and holy shit. Brendon rocks his hips against Ryan’s, just to be sure, and—yeah, definitely, unless Ryan’s started carrying a Maglite around in his front pocket.

“Huh,” Brendon says, because that’s just unexpected. He rolls his hips again, and well, really, it’s only rational that Brendon would get hard too, that’s just basic proximity. And he’s a teenager, after all. And, well, Ryan.

“What the fuck,” Ryan says, and he sounds pissed now, frustrated-pissed, like he might accidentally cry. Brendon hates that feeling.

“It’s okay,” he says, hoping that will help. “It’s totally natural! Lots of people find me irresistible.”

Ryan’s glaring at him, arms still caught up under and behind him from Brendon’s tickle attack, and Brendon tickles him a little more, smiling as wide and reassuring as he can. “Seriously! Totally normal!” and Ryan’s hips thrust into Brendon’s and Ryan swears.

“Get the fuck off me,” he says, and Brendon frowns.

“Oh, whatever, Ross, you’re the one with the boner.” Well—okay, technically they both are, now, but Ryan definitely had the originating boner. He is totally at fault here.