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Anon_lovefest Fic Exchange
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immortal_lights wrote in anon_lovefest
Title: Scared
Request: Ryan/Brendon; facial

“I think that if we were all we had

that’s more than most people ever have, anyway.

I know you’re still there because you’re scared that you’ll lose everybody

I know you’re still there because you’re scared that you’ll lose everything.

I know you’re still there because you’re scared.”

-Albert Hammond Jr.

November 2009

Keltie had been gone for ten months now.

Ten months and six days, and maybe Brendon had been counting them. Because every day away from Keltie was one more day with Brendon, and he was certain that a day was going to come when Ryan didn’t shout her name during sex, didn’t find a scarf of hers and hide in his bunk for hours, didn’t call her just to hang up before it rang.

Brendon hoped that said day would come, but either way, he knew that something had to change. The suspended limbo couldn’t stand on it’s own. They couldn’t build a relationship on sex, and they couldn’t be fuck buddies when they slept together after the sex was over.

And, no matter what they ended up doing, they couldn’t let anyone know. The first time they slept together, Ryan cried afterward and said, “Spencer’s going to kill me, Spence’s going to hate me.” They both knew Spencer didn’t have a problem with the two of them fucking, but Ryan hadn’t told him. Ryan hadn’t hid something from Spencer in years, and by the time everything had manifested itself into sex, it was too late to tell him. Spencer couldn’t know Ryan had had these feelings and never said anything to him before acting on them. So, obviously, Jon couldn’t know, either. It was unfair to force Jon to hide something like that from Spencer.

“The fans,” Ryan had said. “they’ll think we’ve been lying to them or something. I don’t want to fuck with anyone’s head, you know?” had been Ryan’s excuse for not going public. Brendon knew all of those things- Spencer, the fans- were all bullshit, but he couldn’t force Ryan to do anything. Not when he was still in this state.

But Brendon wanted to come out already. He had been trying to for what felt like years- announcing on stage, in front of thousands, that he was looking for guys as well as girls. He said he saw himself ‘out’ in the years to come. But no one took it seriously, and he didn’t know what else he could do. He didn’t have the balls to come out and say it.

Brendon knew all about being scared, and he didn’t blame Ryan for being frightened of this. It all had come on so fast- an explosion of lust, this sudden need for each other had never been there before. But the thing was, it had been three months since they had started sleeping together, and Brendon had to admit that his patience was wearing a bit thin. Not that that said much- he had been known to bitch because of a wait in a drive-through line- but he felt like he had never tried so hard at something in his life. He picked up an instrument, and he could play it. He didn’t believe in God anymore, he left the church. He wanted a record deal, he got it. Now, he wanted Ryan, and he had him- sort of. He thought Ryan would open up more over time, be a little more brave, something. But it seemed like he was shutting Brendon out even more. Whereas Brendon felt like every day with him would make Ryan more comfortable, it seemed that every day freaked Ryan out even more- every day made it more real.


They were a half hour out of New York, and Brendon couldn’t sleep. It was their first show in New York since it happened, and she wasn’t even there anymore, but Brendon knew that that was home to her. To them. That was where their first kiss was, their first date. That was where they first took Hobo home to.

If Brendon was going to loose him anywhere, it was going to be here.

Brendon held his breath and pulled the curtain of his bunk back, looking around and was faced with nothing but black and creamy yellow, the only light coming from the rushing of streetlamps sneaking in through the curtains. He padded over to Ryan’s bunk and pulled the curtain back, not giving Ryan time to protest, because Brendon knew he would.

But Ryan didn’t protest; didn’t even try to act like he wanted to. He looked up at Brendon and scooted back towards the wall. Brendon crawled in next to him, fitting their bodies together. He wanted to ask how he was doing; how he was feeling, but he knew words would only make things worse. As much as words were Ryan’s talent, they could be his curse. He knew that words had been Ryan’s father’s weapon of choice, and he knew how much that hurt him. To his day, Ryan would rather have someone beat the shit out of him then demean him. They had all learned that the hard way the night at the bar when that frat guy called Ryan a faggot.

Words were too scary for Ryan when he was already frightened, so when Ryan turned around to face the wall, Brendon slid into the bunk, hugged his arms around Ryan’s waist, planted a tiny kiss on the nape of Ryan’s neck and ran his hands up and down Ryan’s side silently.

Ryan was still stiff and quiet when Brendon fell asleep, but he had let Brendon in his bed in the first place, so he counted it as a victory.


They smoked a bowl and a half before the show, because when Ryan was on edge, everyone was on edge. It was strange for them to watch Ryan digress back to the kid he was before Keltie, and Brendon was getting more and more aggravated that he couldn’t change it. And he hated to sit there in a circle, on the floor of the dressing room, exhaling and passing the pipe to Jon, and having Jon not know how hard he was trying to fix the boy next to Jon. No one knew that Brendon barely slept on hotel nights, awake at all hours, trying to suck, lick, kiss and fuck the emptiness right back out of Ryan. It annoyed the hell out of him that they were all trying to figure out how to help Ryan when Brendon had already been trying for months with nearly nothing to show for it.


The show was okay. The fans were iffy about the new material, and the new album in general. It had turned out to be a mix of the first two records- Ryan had broken up with Keltie in the middle of the writing process, so half the songs were dark. They had also gone out to desert and dropped acid three times during recording, so half the songs were reminiscent of the second record. It was an awkward mix; even they had to admit it. But it felt right. It felt a little more like real life.

Once they get to the hotel room, Ryan collapsed on the bed without a word. He fiddled with his phone in his hand and slipped his shoes off.

“You wanna take a shower?” Brendon asked, putting their bags down.

Ryan shook his head, putting the phone next to him.

Brendon walked over to the bed and leaned over Ryan, pinning him down with his arms on either side of his shoulders. “I’m gonna take one, you sure you don’t want to join?” He smirked.

Ryan smiled back, chuckled. “I’m really tired, I think I’ll just grab one in the morning.”


When Brendon got out of the shower, all the lights were off and their room was quiet. Brendon was a bit relieved- a sleeping Ryan was the most harmless type of Ryan as of late.

Brendon crawled into the bed, skin still damp and hair dripping from the tips, climbing in behind Ryan. Once he was close, he could tell that Ryan wasn’t really sleeping- his breath hitched when the bed dipped with Brendon’s weight, and when Brendon slid a hand up to his chest, the tips of his fingers brushed over Ryan’s heart, and it was beating like trapped birds against his ribcage.

Brendon reached his arm all the way down to find Ryan’s hand buried deep under the blankets. He tried to relax his fist to fit their palms together, but Ryan’s fist was shut tight. Ryan had refused to talk before, refused to kiss or refused to fuck, but never had he refused to simply hold Brendon’s hand. And Brendon didn’t want to be say anything, didn’t want to be so blatantly obvious, but Ryan hadn’t given him much of a choice.

“Hey,” Brendon said, running his thumb over Ryan’s. “come on, baby, don’t shut me out right now.”

Ryan’s body tensed up even more, and he gazed out toward the window. He tightened his fist even more as Brendon lightly pawed at Ryan’s fingers. Ryan wasn’t fighting to get away, but he wasn’t exactly there, either, and Brendon didn’t know which one was worse. Ryan said, “I can see her apartment from here.”

“I know,” Brendon whispered against the shell of his ear. “let’s just go to sleep, okay? We’ll be gone in the morning, it’ll be over.”

“’’s never over,” Ryan mumbled, and rolled over in Brendon’s arms. Brendon leaned in for a kiss, and Ryan opened up way too quickly. Brendon’s plush lips cascaded down to Ryan’s, and Ryan sucked Brendon’s tongue into his mouth, lacing it up with his own and thrusting up into Brendon’s hips. Ryan tugged on the pull of his own sweatpants, and Brendon pulled them down from his thighs and discarded them on the floor. Ryan wasn’t wearing any boxers, and Brendon could already feel a hint of Ryan’s erection pressing up against his thigh. Ryan pulled out of the kiss and gasped for a breath as he tugged his shirt off, ran his hands down Brendon’s dewy-damp skin and gripped his ass, pulling their hips flush. Ryan’s voice was hot and breathy when he pulled them tight together, hips to hips, dicks to dicks, when he said, “hit me.”

And Brendon didn’t know how he thought tonight would be any different than any other night.

“Where?” Brendon pushed Ryan’s hair out of her face “Where do you want it?”

“Anywhere.” He pulled Brendon down for a kiss, a mesh of lips and teeth and Brendon tried to kiss him lazily, shallowly, but Ryan was rutting up against his hip as their bodies slid against each other. Brendon pulled away and Ryan whined, reaching up for him. “Turn over,” Brendon said quietly.

Ryan quickly flipped over on the bed and Brendon could hear his harsh panting on the pillow. The first swing was hard, and they didn’t let up, because Brendon knew that was how Ryan liked it.

The hot red marks on Ryan’s cheeks always made Brendon nervous; the sharp sting of Brendon’s palm meeting Ryan’s hot, aggravated skin made Brendon wince. “You okay?” Brendon asked, running a soft hand down Ryan’s thigh.

“Mhhh,” Ryan moaned, and Brendon knew that was a good sound.

Brendon hated doing this. It wasn’t like spanking was something he was totally against, but this always felt wrong. Something like that required lots of trust; something Brendon had to shamefully admit was lacking between them. Brendon wasn’t ever able to be sure that, if it came down to it, Ryan would give him what he needed, like Brendon always did for him. And sometimes, Ryan would be right there, talking to him face to face, and it was like Ryan had never met Brendon before in his life. It was like they didn’t even know each other.

Around twenty or so, Ryan said, “okay, okay, just… fuck me, please?” His voice was breathy and muffled by the pillow, and Brendon hated how he couldn’t know that. How he couldn’t know when Ryan had had enough; didn’t know Ryan’s line. It made it feel like every time was their first awkward, clumsy time together, and made Brendon feel like he was getting nowhere with Ryan.

Brendon lay down on his stomach, spreading Ryan’s legs apart, kissing up the back of his knees, his thighs, as Ryan panted into the pillow. He kissed the red handprints, licking smooth lines up to the pool of sweat gathering on the small of Ryan’s back. Brendon gently spread his cheeks apart and licked a circle around his hole, placing a kiss in the middle.

“Jesus, come on,” Ryan said with a raw voice.

Brendon delved his tongue into Ryan and he let out of a howl as Brendon thrusted his tongue in and out, getting Ryan wet and stretching him with his tongue. Ryan reached back to grab Brendon’s hair, pull Brendon’s face against his ass, but he missed, flailing his arms around like this was the first time Brendon had done this to him (it wasn’t.) He missed, and instead, grabbed onto one of Brendon’s hands resting on Ryan’s hips, tightening their fingers together. Brendon smiled. Finally.

“Mhhh,” Ryan panted. “Fuck, Iloveitwhenyoudothat,” Ryan writhed under him, using his other hand to grip the sheets roughly.

“I know,” Brendon whispered, adding a finger in with his tongue. Ryan got quiet then, little huffs of hair and stuttered moans escaping his lips as Brendon added another finger. Two, three.

Brendon pulled away to fumble through Ryan’s bag for condoms and lube, rolling it on and slicking himself up. “Hey,” he said to Ryan, slapping his ass playfully. “Flip over.”

“Can’t we do it like this?” Ryan asked, and Brendon couldn’t even picture that. Seeing nothing but the flat plane of Ryan’s back, long legs and a mop of hair when he came, having no mouth to kiss, no tongue to tangle with. No hazel eyes to try to decipherer in the throws of pleasure, looking for things beyond lust.

But Brendon just placed a kiss between Ryan’s shoulder blades and said, “if you want.”

“I want,” Ryan said, reaching back for Brendon’s hand. And Brendon didn’t think he would ever understand these signals that Ryan gave him, but he was in no position to question them. He pushed in slowly, still afraid that Ryan could be broken with one thrust, could shatter just from letting someone inside. His muscled clenched tight around Brendon, holding him inside like an embrace.

“Okay?” Brendon asked Ryan’s shoulder blades.

“God, move, please…” Ryan asked, and Brendon did what he was told.

It wasn’t hard to find a rhythm with Ryan. He always met Brendon’s thrusts, and tonight was no different, even in this position. Brendon planted wet kisses on the back of Ryan’s neck, and Ryan moaned louder then usual, moving to sit back on his heels midway through, crying out every time Brendon hit his prostate, which was nearly every time at this point.

And this was when Brendon knew that he had him. In the heat of these kinds of moments, Brendon knew that he could tell Ryan to do anything, and he would do it. (The theory had been tested.) But as Ryan reached back to cling to Brendon, grabbing his neck and pulling him into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, Brendon felt the distance between them become even farther. Once Ryan was under, submissive, in the moment, Brendon could be anyone, and Ryan wouldn’t care. Just as long as someone was there- touching him, kissing him, fucking him. And it was always weird in that way- Brendon was so far inside of him, forehead stuck to the nape of Ryan’s neck, covered in his after-show sweat, and he had never felt further away from anyone in his life.

He was close now. And a part of him always felt like bad about this, how easy Ryan got to him, how he got off to his submissive ‘hurt me’ Ryan that came out when the sun went down. But he was only human, and Ryan pressed up against him, the smell of skin and sweat in the atoms of air between them; Ryan clenching tight around him had him riding the edge of his orgasm way before he wanted to. He reached for Ryan’s dick, because he truly didn’t know how much longer he could hold on for, and the least they could do was come together. Ryan swatted it away. “I don’t need it,” he said breathlessly as he slammed back onto Brendon’s dick, circling his hips. With just a few more thrust, Ryan was coming without even being touched once.

At the height of Ryan’s orgasm, Brendon pulled out. This wasn’t something they had done before, and Brendon didn’t ask. But Ryan had taken so much from Brendon without ever asking, so Brendon felt completely free to pull out, shove Ryan onto his back while his body shook out the last of his orgasm and to start jerking off right there on his chest, straddling Ryan and aiming right at his chin.

“Oh, God,” Ryan moaned when he realized what Brendon was doing. “Fuck, come on, do it,” and Brendon felt Ryan’s soft dick spark with interest against his thigh.

“You want it, Ry?” Brendon’s face lit up with a small, smug smile breathing hard and bracing himself on the bed with one arm.

“Please… yes, please… God you’re so fucking hot like this, please, Bren…”
And that was all that Brendon needed. That was the first time Ryan had said Brendon’s name during sex, and hearing Ryan say his name like that was all that it took for Brendon to come hard on Ryan’s cheeks, chin, lips, hair. He collapsed on top of Ryan after he came down from his own orgasm, and he began to lick up the mess, collecting it all and swallowed before he leaned down to kiss Ryan, and he mumbled, “mine.” They breathed heavily through their noses, unwilling to pull away, and Ryan slid his arms around Brendon’s neck and mumbled, “I’m yours.”

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I think that this is what I requested, but I'm not sure (lol memory fail). If so, this is exactly what I wanted, and if it wasn't my's still exactly what I wanted. Such a good mix of sex and angst. ♥________♥

Fantastic! Not the requester but still loved it.

The distrust and the different emotions were all brilliant!

Aw, wow. This was amazing, I really liked it. I liked how Keltie interfered with the story, I thought that was a good way to include her. :) I enjoyed it! ♥

my fucking soul, jfc. this especially:

“Can’t we do it like this?” Ryan asked, and Brendon couldn’t even picture that. Seeing nothing but the flat plane of Ryan’s back, long legs and a mop of hair when he came, having no mouth to kiss, no tongue to tangle with. No hazel eyes to try to decipherer in the throws of pleasure, looking for things beyond lust.

yes. just. yes. this was gorgeous and angsty and fucking hot -- my favourite kind of sex. \o/ really nice job.

thank you; that means so much coming from the person who wrote one of my favorite fics of all time ("the present and the distance") glad you liked it!

I was linked here by behindthec and can I say one thing?


Just like, jesus christ. I loved this.

Omg omg total win.

Just so needy and angsty and all... I don't know. I love broken Ryan.

this was a rec from -lolab- and ofmg. i think i love you. so, so beautiful(:


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