Ryden Oneshots

Candyboy

.:. Rating : NC-17 .:.

Summary: There is an urban legend about how a boy can get the most spectacular and orgasmic kiss of his life, if he dares to try it.

When it came to urban legends, Ryan knew of only one that could simultaneously strike both fear and fearlessness into the hearts of boys across the world. Fearlessness, because wow, it was so worth the risk, and fear because of the consquences of breaking the rules.

According to myth, if a boy stood in the dark, alone and in front of a mirror, and whispered 'Candyboy' three times, and closed his eyes, he'd get the most succulent, sweet, lingering kiss of his life, so good he'd come in his pants right where he stood. What boy could resist that?

There was a catch, though, as there tended to be with urban legends. If you opened your eyes before Candyboy left you with a whisper of breath across your cheek, you'd be impotent the rest of your life, and would be so traumatized you'd never remember what Candyboy looked like anyway. Ouch.

Ryan Ross was fifteen and unbelievably horny, a reckless combination. He felt a bit like a dork, standing in the dark of his bathroom in only his boxer briefs and staring at his vague, inky reflection in the mirror, but what did he have to lose-- aside from a working schlong, and he had enough self-control and healthy fear to resist trying to look, right?

And Ryan really, really wanted that legendary, mind-blowing kiss.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to speak, a soft but clear whisper. "Candyboy. Candyboy... Candyboy."

Heart beating wildly against his chest, Ryan stood perfectly still and waited. For a long moment, he thought nothing was going to happen. And then, somehow, some way, he felt a soft touch upon his lips, and he gasped. A soft, moist mouth fitted against his own, lightly at first, and then the impossibly soft and plush lips pressed more fully against his own, and a warm, wet tongue slipped into his mouth, sharing a faint taste of peppermint candy with him.

Ryan moaned deep in his chest, then whimpered when the clever tongue flicked the roof of his mouth, making Ryan's cock twitch hard in his underwear. The lush lips closed around Ryan's tongue, then, and began suck, setting a distinct rhythm that had Ryan seeing stars behind his tightly shut eyelids. Oh god, so good, better than his wild imagination had ever believed, and oh, too soon, the sensations sparked furiously, and Ryan came harder than he'd ever come before, his cries strangled in his throat. He panted for breath against that wicked mouth, then felt a very soft sigh, a puff of breath against his cheekbone, and Ryan knew that he was now alone.

He didn't dare open his eyes, though, until he realized he was standing there in cooled, come-drenched underwear, and that Candyboy was truly long gone.

Ryan didn't jerk off for a solid week. Instead, every night for six more days, he crept into the bathroom, scared but so hungry for more, and called for Candyboy. Sometimes he tasted peppermint candy on that strange and wonderful mouth, sometimes something vaguely berry. He wasn't fond of the licorace flavor, but the orgasm was still as amazing-- boy, was it ever! The strawberry was Ryan's favorite.

After that week, though, Ryan began to worry that eventually he'd forget, and accidentally open his eyes before he was supposed to. Since Ryan had a profound attachment to his dick and to coming, he took those worries seriously. So he stopped calling for Candyboy, and relied instead upon the vivid memories of the past week, bringing himself off with his hand wrapped tight around his cock. It was almost as good.

***

Ryan felt totally high on life, on their band and their future. They had some kinks to work out, but the opening show of their first headlining tour had been a rousing success. Jon fit with them as though he'd meant to be with them all along, Spencer had never been so at home behind his kit, Brendon pranced, preened and worked the crowd more skillfully than ever before, and Ryan himself hadn't ever felt more alive with his guitar in his hands, onstage.