donkey_skin

Tue, 26 May 2009 01:39:47 GMT

Conversation
Panic, Ryan/Spencer, PG

A/N: Wow, I haven't written anything in a long time. Based on Spencer's twitter the other day.

The thing is, Ryan doesn't hate Haley. He wishes he could sometimes, but he can't. Not when she clearly loves Spencer as much as she does. Still, it would be so much easier for him if he could hate her.

Since he can't, sometimes he wishes he could tell Spencer that he ought to be going to Haley instead. Not that Spencer comes to him for anything that he shouldn't be able to give as a friend. It's that he wishes he could give more. It's that when Spencer's lying in his bed sometimes it's so easy to pretend that they are more.

Sometimes Ryan imagines actually following through and telling Spencer in painful detail why they can't do this anymore, why he's avoiding him in favor of other people and things, anything that will take his mind off of Spencer. He wonders if Spencer could understand that their friendship is simultaneously too much and not enough.

(It seems like he's been in love with Spencer all his life, like it's bleeding backward and coloring everything they've ever done.)

Except if he did tell Spencer things would have to change and he might lose more of Spencer than he already has. (If he had to describe it he'd say it's like he's trying to hold onto grains of sand and they keep slipping through his fingers no matter what he does. He makes himself laugh at the overblown metaphor instead of thinking of how little of Spencer he's been able to hold on to or letting himself think about how ridiculous he must seem, wanting to get away from Spencer and wanting to hold on to him at the same time.)

Those are the thoughts that occupy Ryan's mind as they lie there together, Spencer in his bed. Ryan keeps mulling them over and over until Spencer moves too much for him to continue to ignore. Even if Ryan's used to being the one who can't sleep, who's up watching Spencer breathe, Spencer had mentioned that he hadn't been sleeping well when he called and asked if he could come over, so it shouldn't really be that surprising.

He puts a hand to Spencer's shoulder and asks, "Can't sleep?" Of course Spencer says, "I am sleeping," even though he's clearly awake, even though he'd been the one who told Ryan he wasn't sleeping well in the first place.

Ryan pushes closer, spooning him, and brushing the hair out of his eyes before starting to hum the song he can't get out of his head.

Soon enough Spencer's snoring. Spencer gets defensive about it when Ryan complains, but Ryan hates it. It keeps him awake because he's so used to it that when Spencer's not there snoring, Ryan has an even harder time getting to sleep.

Ryan rests his head against Spencer and closes his eyes, the song echoing through his head until he too finally falls asleep.

When Spencer texts him the next night and asks what the song he'd been humming was called Ryan hesitates before texting back conversation joni mitchell. He's not sure if he hopes Spencer gets it or not, or how to feel at all when Spencer twitters that it's what he's falling asleep to.

Fic:

Mon, 26 Jan 2009 17:42:14 GMT

I wrote fic!

All Tied Up
Panic, girl!Spencer/Ryan

Spencer was really concentrating as she tied the knots; her tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth and Ryan almost wished his hands were free so he could reach up and poke at it, tease her until she retaliated by sucking his finger in her mouth. Almost.

“There. Done,” she announced, looking over her work- looking over him- with what Ryan hoped was satisfaction. If it were anything else, she would have said no Ryan reassured himself. Spencer wasn’t the sort to succumb to pity, not with him.

He felt her straddling him as she grumbled, “Are you sure the knots are right?” reaching up and encircling his wrists right below the scarves, pulling slightly to test the give.

Ryan swallowed hard, unable to stop himself from straining forward; her breasts were right there, just out of his reach. If he could only-

“Ryan,” Spencer said, and when Ryan looked up, he could tell from the look on her face that she must have repeated it several times. “Well, I guess at least we know they’ll hold. Do we need a word or something?”

Ryan was still thinking about her boobs and it took him a minute to say,
“It’s not like you’re going to do anything I don’t want.”

Spencer grinned wickedly at him and asked, “How do you know?” It sent shivers through his body which wasn’t at all helped by the way she moved backwards, slowly, rubbing against him.

She stopped and raised an eyebrow at him so he said, “Calculus then,” even though it seemed kind of dumb. There had been safewords in that stupid book they’d read by flashlight under Spencer’s blankets, ages and ages ago.

(They hadn’t gotten very far when it had disappeared, replaced by a series of pamphlets on safe sex and a thing of condoms. He hadn’t been able to meet Mrs. Smith’s eyes for a week; he hadn’t been able to meet Spencer’s for longer. What if she’d thought he was thinking of her when they were reading that? The worst part was, after that, he couldn’t stop thinking of her when he thought of the book, imagining Spencer tying him down. She was his friend, he wasn’t supposed to think of her like that back then. He’d felt so weird about it for so long; some days he still caught himself feeling that way before he remembered they were together now and it was okay.)

“Thinking about classes?” she asked jolting him from his memories just in time to watch as she leaned down, rubbing her face against his dick through his pants. Fuck, they’d forgotten to take off his pants.

“Spence, my pants,” he said, and he could feel her laughter against his skin.

“We kind of suck at this,” she said, then started to move away.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he said. It had taken long enough to get all the knots tied to her satisfaction in the first place, he didn’t want her to start over.

“You sure?” she asked. She’d pushed herself up, and her shirt was hanging down enough that he could see her bra, and fuck, he was supposed to say something.

“Yes,” he said forcefully- too forcefully- then closed his eyes in embarrassment.

“We'll make it work,” she said, as she fidgeted with the button of his fly. The way she struggled was the first sign he’d seen that she was at all nervous.

“Gotcha!” she said happily and Ryan opened his eyes to catch her triumphant grin just before she leaned down and mouthed his cock through his underwear. She pulled back a little at his moan, and he tried to reach down, forgetting his hands were tied. She ran a finger back and forth across the elastic waistband of his boxer-briefs.

“I’ve got you at my mercy, Ross,” she said throatily. Ryan was glad he bit down and didn’t say, “Don’t be a fucking tease, Spence,” when she continued, “You’re just lucky I’m feeling merciful,” before pushing his underwear down as far as she could and taking the tip of his cock into her mouth.

Ryan concentrated really hard on not bucking up and trying to push further into her mouth; he was pretty sure if he choked her, he’d end up with a hand job at best, and at worst- well, it was far more likely that she’d leave him there until someone else came to untie him. The thought of Mrs. Smith finding him like that was more than enough motivation for him to hold himself still.

Then Spencer reached down to tentatively cup his balls, and all thoughts of her mother flew out of his head. He couldn’t help moving a little when she moved a finger further back, tracing his skin lightly, but she didn’t stop, or pull away, so he figured it was fine. He couldn’t move that much anyway, not with the restraints, which was good because she had started moving up and down his cock, taking in more and more, moving her hand around the base.

“Spence,” he tried to warn her, but she didn’t listen, just moved her hand and swallowed around him, and he was coming, in her mouth, then on her face when she pulled back a little, her hand still around his dick.

“God, Spence, you look so-“ he stopped because nothing he could think of to say felt like enough.

Her face went a little pink, and she wiped her face with the back of her hand then asked, “So what?”

“So hot,” he finished, even though it wasn’t enough, nothing he could say could be enough. She went a little bit redder then curled against his side.

When he’d finally caught his breath, he asked, “Gonna untie me?”

“Hmmm?” she hummed against his side.

“It’s your turn,” he pointed out, laughing when she scurried to start working at the knots.

lyrical ~interpretations

Fri, 23 Jan 2009 05:58:02 GMT

First Ryan Ross was a bird, now he's a plane. My only question is, does that make Brendon a GPS?