KISSING MEME

[foxxcub]

WOW, this day will not end. I am staring at sheets of numbers, figures, and paperwork that make my eyeballs hurt. LOLZ DEADLINES, WHAT ARE THOSE?

SO. Here's what I propose:

♥ Kissing Meme ♥

Comment with no less than 100 words of kissing. ANY KISSING, even if it's nothing but eskimo kisses and/or neck nuzzling! Porn is not necessary, but always appreciated! Any and all fandoms/pairings welcome!
Invite your friends!

I would start, but please see above mention of ev0l deadlines. Bah.

*puppy eyes at flist*

Comments

jon/spencer, icecream

[flimsy.livejournal.com]

"hi," jon says, grinning. spence looks up sleepily, blinking. it's way too early for - well, for anything, really. and jon doesn't seem to be holding coffee cups. spence rubs his eyes and rolls from his side onto his back. jon is holding two icecream cones, one of which seems to be dripping onto spencer's ten-thousand dollar rug. he should have thought twice before giving jon a spare key.

"i got you honey-cinnamon, but if you're not feeling adventurous, you can have my vanilla," jon continues, sitting down on spencer's bed.

"nghwah," spence says, blinks, and then says again, "i hate you, you fucker."

"it's made with real honey and real cinnamon, spence," jon tempts and leans down to lick some icecream from his knuckles. it stains the corner of his mouth. spencer doesn't know how he expects a man who just woke up to stay calm in the face of that. he sits up, takes the honey-cinnamon cone from jon's hand, and leans closer, kissing the corner of jon's mouth. jon makes a happy humming sound, and licks into spencer's mouth. he tastes like real honey, yes, and vanilla, and chocolate.

"you cheated on me with chocolate icecream," spence says, pulling back and licking a long line up his cone.

"duh, it had chunks in it," jon replies, grinning.

"huh," spence says, because that's seriously a plausible argument.

Re: jon/spencer, icecream

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

"you cheated on me with chocolate icecream," spence says

SO MUCH WIN.

the big gay office pt 1

[makesomelove.livejournal.com]

I can't believe the first halfway serious fic I've ever written is Panic At The Discotheque. This doesn't make any sense because it's based upon my own life.


A hand flies out of nowhere on Spencer's left side. Its nails are shiny and perfectly manicured. "Hi," it says in a beyond cheerful voice. Spencer then realizes the hand is attached to an arm which is attached to a person.

It is early.

Spencer takes the offered hand and shakes it. It's soft. "Must be the new guy," he says against the fist he's leaning on. This new guy is interrupting his sulky leaning. Now only one of his cheeks are squished instead of two.

"Not a morning person, huh?" the new guy says.

"If you say something about having a case of the Mondays, I'll kick you in the shin."

New guy giggles. God, what a dick.

"I'm Brendon," he says. "Spencer Smith, right? It says on your nameplate, is how I know," he explains before Spencer can ask.

Spencer notices they are still clasping hands. He takes his away and props it up under his empty cheek so both of them are smooshed up enough that they make his eyes close slightly. He hates working here. He hates 7am, he hates business casual attire, he hates spreadsheets and invoices and feeling like he's doing nothing. All he does is stare at a screen on a desk, privately tapping out rhythms on his keyboard.

"Want some coffee?" Brendon asks. "I'm going to the kitchen anyway. And since I'm the new guy, I can be like, the office bitch. It's like prison!"

Spencer nods as best he can in his current head-in-hands position. "Shrr," he says, his lips pushed out.

"Okay," Brendon smiles and pats his shoulder as he skips away. He literally skips, waving to everyone he passes, stopping once to yoink something from Patrick's candy dish.

Maybe today, Spencer hates working here a tiny, itty bitty yellow polka dot less.

---

"Hey, Spencer," Brendon says. He turns all the way around in his swivel chair and scoots up to the front of Spencer's desk.

"Yeah?" Spencer is in the middle of whiting something out. It's a very delicate process that calls for nearly all of his concentration, like disarming a bomb.

"You ever play Cat's Cradle?" Brendon asks.

"What?" Spencer looks up. Brendon is holding a loop of twine. "Why do you have a piece of twine on you?"

"I keep it in my wallet for emergencies and special occasions," he says, lifting his eyebrows and catching his tongue between his smile. Brendon's face moves constantly when he speaks, like it's possessed by bunnies on fire.

"No, I've never played Cat's Cradle."

After several excruciating minutes and about a million tries ("Pinch the X's -- you see the X's? -- pinch them with your thumb and forefinger. No, the other way. No, the other way. No, the other way. No -- there. Okay, now pull them out. No, the other way. Okay, good, now pull them under and through the middle. Put all your fingers through. Good, yes, good, keep going -- Noooooo! Okay, that's okay, let's start over."), Spencer successfully transfers the twine from Brendon's hands to his own.

"You did it!" Brendon says in a disproportionately proud and excited manner.

"Doesn't look like a cradle to me," Spencer says, looking at his hands so he doesn't have to look at Brendon. He feels funny.

Brendon untangles the twine from Spencer's fingers and hangs it on the corner of Spencer's monitor.

the big gay office pt 2

[makesomelove.livejournal.com]

It's almost time to leave. Spencer, for the first time in his life, wishes it wasn't. Everyone is recapping their Hi-Liters, filing their files, and logging off for the day. Brendon is playing Minesweeper in front of him. His underpants are poking out just a little bit above his khakis. Spencer feels Brendon is exactly the type of person who would never notice when his entire ass is hanging out of his pants.

Spencer shuts down his computer and grabs his messenger bag. "You outta here now?" he asks Brendon.

"Oh, yeah, I should've been gone like a half hour ago," he says, grabbing his own bag and standing up.

"Why aren't you?"

"I was waiting for you," he says. "Shall I walk you to your car, Spencer Smith?" He holds out his arm. Spencer, again, feels funny, but he loops his arm through Brendon's anyway.

"Like Cat's Cradle," he says stupidly. Brendon giggles with his shoulders shrugged up in glee.

They go to say good night at Spencer's 1996 Ford Escort. The office parking lot is nearly empty. Brendon squints at Spencer's face suddenly and says, "Hey, Spencer, c'mere." He motions with his hand for Spencer to come closer.

Brendon licks his thumb like he's turning a page and rubs it up and down twice in the center of Spencer's bottom lip.

"You had some white out on you," he says.

"Oh," Spencer says. He feels the funniest he's felt all day. "Did you get all of it?"

Brendon steps closer and licks Spencer's lip in the same spot. He leans back and squints again.

"Yeah, now I did."

Spencer really wants to lick his own lip. It's wet.

"See you tomorrow?" Brendon asks, a jillion watt grin on his stupid face.

"Yeah, tomorrow."

Spencer loves working here.

[dragonsinger.livejournal.com]

Nathan stuffed his hands into his pockets, not quite sure if he should make the first move or not. God, he felt like he was in high school again. How embarrassing! He was almost a lwayer.

Heidi smiled. “Well,” she offered, “good night.”

Aw, hell, what was he waiting for? He took her face in his hands and touched her lips with his. Softly at first, then the intensity grew. Her supple lips parted to welcome him. He took the opportunity.

After a while, they parted. Nathan grinned, unable to stop himself, while Heidi blushed.

“Yeah,” he said. “Good night.”

idk idk, someone told me to participate D:

[lovebashed.livejournal.com]

frankie hooks his index finger through the loop of gerard's concert dampened jeans. makes him sidle up to him while the others rush to showers and fans.

there shouldn't be anything sexy in the way clothes cling to skin after shows. how the fabric adheres to stomachs and backs and stings his nose when he presses his face to the center of gerard's shoulder blades. and yet, yet he can't help but be lightheaded from lust, grunt softly when gerard relaxes into his touch.

"frank? frankie, hey."

gerard's voice is clear. none of that post-show broken syllable bullshit that rock stars are keen to complain about. his voice would slice air into halves if it made any sense outside of frankie's head.

"thanks," he says lips against translucently white button-down and skin; mostly skin. his nose itches from gerard's scent and he presses quick kisses on the archipelago of muscles and spine and pools of sweat on brittle fabric.

"for what?" gerard asks genuinely.

"i dunno. for just fucking being you, for fucking existing."

he laughs. "you're so fucking weird sometimes," he says pulling away, extracts one of frank's hands from the hollow of his hip and in the spirit of things, presses his lips to the corner of frank's eye. "now come on, punk, let's go make someone's day," he says and leads them to a handful of screaming fans fishing a sharpie from his back pocket, his other hand still wrapped snugly around frank's.

Re: idk idk, someone told me to participate D:

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

Awwwwwwwwwwwwww FRANK. ♥

OH DECAYDENCE CLASS PHOTO, YOU HAVE BROKEN ME

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

OMG ILU. EVEN THOUGH I SAY THAT 4395034 TIMES A DAY.


He thinks maybe he's lost his mind a bit, because this isn't like Spencer, he doesn't let shit like this get to him, not like this, not...not publicly, where God and anyone else can watch him. Spencer always has his bitchy snits in private, and perfectly directed at the person who caused said bitchy snit.

But this isn't a snit, it's...Jon doesn't know what it is. Spencer takes like cigarettes and smells like sweat that isn't his, and Jon clenches his fist in Spencer's shirt and shakes him a little.

"Seriously," he whispers into Spencer's mouth, trying to lick away the foreign taste that doesn't belong there. "Seriously, I--why? I didn't mean to--"

"Forget about it, it was nothing, nobody." He says the words against the corner of Jon's mouth, and they sound soft, needy, strange. His hands cup around Jon's elbows, barely touching.

"Liar," Jon growls, but it's not mean. He slides his arms around Spencer's back and suddenly hugs him, hard. He repeats Spencer's words, muffled into the hair at Spencer's temple. "Sorry, 'm sorry. Okay?"

Spencer sighs. "Yeah." He kisses Jon's cheek right before his forehead drops down to rest on Jon's shoulder, his mouth skimming the dip at Jon's throat.

[withoutmaps.livejournal.com]

Brendon isn't that drunk. He only had like two beers. And then Jon had laughed, said something that sounded suspiciously like "cut off" and Brendon hasn't had another since.

He stumbles onto the bus after Jon, not drunk. He just forgot there was three steps; seriously, he's pretty sure there was only two before.

But Spencer is curled up on the couch in the front, cheek smushed into the arm of the couch and he's looks warm and cozy and Brendon doesn't bother to stop and think about it. He curls up into Spencer, somehow manages not to put any elbows or knees into any soft spots.

Brendon's kiss is soft, chaste and Spencer doesn't hesitate to return it. Small, soft kisses until they both fall asleep, pass out on the couch.

With his face pressed into Spencer's neck, his arms curled around Spencer's back as much as he can, Brendon just sort of breathes.

"Brendon," Spencer finally says, after both Jon and Ryan have gone back to the bunks. "Bren."

Brendon just hums a little, lifts his chin up enough to see Spencer's face. And it's probably because Spencer doesn't look mad, isn't even mildly annoyed. He's just sleepy and his eyes are half-closed and Brendon leans his head up a little more, presses his mouth against Spencer's.

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

askfds;kgdf'

*melts*

[wishpaper.livejournal.com]

idek, okay? FEELINGS ARE BORING, KISSING IS AWESOME.

-------------



Ryan Ross is young and beautiful and he writes words that Pete wants to crawl inside of, just curl into and live in forever. Patrick mentions, occasionally, that there are things in Ryan that remind him of Pete. The sad things, he says.

Pete has to tilt his chin up, tiptoe just a little bit to kiss Ryan on the lips. "You make my world go 'round, Ryan Ross," he murmurs against Ryan's mouth, and Ryan smiles, the expression soft; he thumbs at Pete's jawline and cups his face, fingers long and strong and graceful.

"You're crazy," Ryan says, simple and warm, pressing his smile briefly to Pete's forehead. Pete feels, momentarily, absurdly like a child in the hands of this boy seven years younger than him. (With Patrick, there's never the age thing, not on the surface, just always almost-there ghostlike in the back of Pete's mind, something he knows is there but never really tries to grab at.)

In the long stretches between dawn and morning, when Ryan is finally running out of words and Pete is grasping at the new rays of sun to pull him out of the night, they will lay together on Pete's bed, quiet, just reveling in the silence of together. Sometimes, Ryan will kiss Pete, soft and electric on his shoulders and neck and closed eyelids, and sometimes Pete will kiss Ryan long and slow on the mouth. Sometimes, Pete will find places on Ryan to touch--his chest above his heart, the dip of his ribs to stomach, the sharp bones of his hips--just to remind himself that there is more to them than eyes and mouths.

Pete spends some days filling notebooks with long, twisted metaphors about love and lust and stupid mistakes. Ryan flips through them, brushing fingertips over the pages as if the words are tangible, and when he's finished he looks up at Pete, pushing his hair out of his big brown eyes.

"Who are these about?" he asks softly. Pete frowns, shrugs, and Ryan smiles like he knows a secret.

[withoutmaps.livejournal.com]

This is so quiet and beautiful. I love this Pete. <333

OK OK so I found this through halfdutch...

[thespiansparkle.livejournal.com]

...but I wanna play! Kissing = happy place.

I will give you some kissinglove a little later tonight, OK?

Re: OK OK so I found this through halfdutch...

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

Absolutely! :D

[vampyreranger.livejournal.com]

John knows that Rodney isn't everyone's cup of tea. He's arrogant, cantankerous, possessive, and pure unadulterated evil bastard. But he's also loyal, funny, brilliant, and kind in his own fashion.


Frankly Rodney is his favorite person in the world, flaws and all. So it comes to no surprise to everyone other than Rodney that one day, after a particularly tough mission which had followed another grueling apocalyptic disaster, that John got his shit together and did something about it.

He saunters over to Rodney, looks him dead in the eye, and slings him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. John carries Rodney spluttering all the way to his quarters and gently sets him down on the bed.

"I'm going to kiss you Rodney," John declared. He cupped Rodney's face in his hands and pressed a gentle kiss to each cheek, both eyes, his forehead, and finally his lips.

"Oh god, finally you moron! I've only been sending signals forever brawn for brains," Rodney exclaimed as they came up for air. He then proceeded to use his overly large brain to make John scream all night long.

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

AHAHA GOD, RODNEY. ILU so much. XD

[soundslikej.livejournal.com]

Brendon wakes up to someone touching his back.

His face is smooshed into the back of the couch, and it seems like too much effort to move, so he just leaves it there, feeling fingers sliding up his spine, tracing over his ribs, then sweeping back down to his sides like they're searching for something. "Hmmmh?" he finally asks the cushion, and the hands still, curling around his hips.

"I'm looking for the plug," Jon says, his weight settling down onto the couch beside Brendon's legs.

Brendon twists his head back to look at him. "What?"

"To recharge you." Jon looks deeply sad. "Somebody broke our Brendon."

Brendon sighs and shifts onto his side, curling his legs around Jon. "'m not broken," he tells him.

"Are you sure? Because Ryan—"

"Ryan's Ryan," Brendon says. "He didn't break me. I'm still here. No plug needed. I'm just…I don't feel very bouncy right now." He tugs at Jon's arm. "Come be not-bouncy with me, Jon Walker." Jon curls up obediently next to Brendon, and Brendon wraps his arms around him. "Thank you for trying to fix me," he whispers into Jon's ear, and presses a kiss to the side of his head.

Jon grins. "Glad you don't need it, because the next step was duct tape," he tells Brendon. "I hear that fixes pretty much anything."

[lemonsherry.livejournal.com]

:D aww adorable!

[lemonsherry.livejournal.com]

patrick is oblivious when Pete kisses him for the first time, napping lightly with his head resting on Mrs. Wentz' kitchen table. Pete had plied him with frozen icicles in a spur of the moment 'brain freeze breaking point social experiment', and his head was too numb for anything else but murmuring snatches of notes while acclimating his face with the place mats.

its also too numb to register to quick swipe of tongue against his parted lips. it adds another indefinable flavour to the artificial cherry and grape sweetness still clinging to the creases n his mouth.

---

patrick is riveted when pete kisses him for the last time, in the hotel room reserved for the groomsman and his party. they're both desperate, and bowties and snow-white shirts pop open as quickly as silk-buttons will on the honeymoon night.

thier breaths are harsh and heavy in in the darkly lit room closet, and the tongues are fierce and hot, familiar and not at all forgettable.

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

OH. *clutches heart*

[adellyna.livejournal.com]

“I am not playing Spin The Bottle,” Spencer says about half a microsecond after the bottle stops spinning.

“You’ve been playing Spin The Bottle for half an hour,” Jon corrects happily. Cheerfully, almost. One might say he does it giddily. If there’s an adverb for ‘so happy as to not be getting laid tonight,’ then he’s doing it that way too. “You’ve already kissed me,” he says, “and Tom. And Brendon. And even Pe-”

“WE-” Spencer interrupts, hand flying up emphatically, “are never talking about that again. You may remember? I said ‘We are never talking about this again’?”

“I said ‘amen,’” Patrick volunteers.

Pete sighs happily and stretches his arms above his head, his feet in front of him; he hits the bottle and it rolls harmlessly away. “God knows I’m never going to forget it.”

“Whatever,” Spencer says. He sets his jaw firm and his arms across his chest and says, stubbornly, “I’m not kissing Ryan.”

He’s not. He’s really, really not going to, no matter that Ryan is already rolling his eyes and crawling at Spencer from across the circle. He’s all eyelashes and floppy hair and stupid bandana, and did Spencer mention that Ryan is his bestfriendjustlikehisbrother because he totally is and it should count for something, ok?

“Spence,” Ryan says. Traitor. “Come on. It won’t be that bad. It won’t be like last time.”

“Last time?” Jon sounds somewhat less amused. Spencer slants a vicious smile over at him. Let Jon deal with that for a while.

“You bit my tongue,” he hisses at Ryan, low enough that only they can hear. “I couldn’t talk for three days.”

“I was twelve,” Ryan hisses back, and then his lips are covering Spencer’s, waxy like chapstick and a little sour from beer.

“With tongue,” Pete insists, “round two means tongue.”

Spencer hears Jon mutter something about Pete shutting the fuck up and who assigned him the make-out police; he smirks into the kiss and then Ryan’s hands are on his shoulders, his booze-chilled tongue slipping into Spencer’s mouth and Spencer feels…

… insanely turned off. It’s really pretty fucking akin to kissing your little brother. Like, your baby brother, soft skin and skinny legs, and it takes everything Spencer has not to wipe off his mouth when Jon says, “I think that’s enough,” and Ryan pulls away.

“Hot,” Spencer deadpans. “Now someone else spin the fucking bottle. And if you start playing Seven Minutes In Heaven, you can count my ass out.”

[lemonsherry.livejournal.com]

perfect, plus the jon/spencer interaction makes me smile giddily.

Spencer/Brendon, early morning bed nuzzling

[insunshine.livejournal.com]

Spencer wakes up to warm breath against his neck. The bed-type thing they've been lying on for the past four some-odd hours is uncomfortable and slab like, and he is a motherfucking rockstar, he should have down comforters and heated bathtubs and not, well, this.

The motel is cheap and the floor is greasy, and Spencer didn't even want his shoes touching it, let alone his feet.

He sighs breathily and Brendon shifts a little bit, and yeah, yeah, definitely, his lips are definitely smearing little kisses against the underside of Spencer's chin. Spencer's eyes pop open, because he can feel Brendon's sliding across his skin, and he moans like he can't hold the sound back. Whatever. He really can't help it.

"Like that, huh?" He sounds way too excited and way too awake for -- Spencer peaks over his shoulder at the flashing red numbers of the clock, fucking jesus, it's only six-seventeen; for six-seventeen in the morning, but if he keeps doing that thing with his tongue, Spencer isn't actually going to complain.

"I'd like it if--" His voice is raw and cracked, and seriously, whatthefuck. What. the. fuck? He and Brendon have been fucking around on and off for months now, it's not like this is new or anything, it's not like Brendon's focused, or concentrated, or anything much at all, except it's early and it's morning, and Spencer really can't control his verbal diarrhea, apparnetly, because he mumbles, "You could always wake me up like this," instead of something less ridiculously schmoopy.

Brendon grins, and even though Spencer's eyes have slipped closed again, he can feel it. That unsettles him more than a little.

"You love me," Brendon murmurs, dragging himself up and bracing his hands on either side of Spencer's sides. Spencer snorts again and creaks his eyes open the littlest bit.

Brendon kisses him and Spencer doesn't have the chance to disagree. Neither of them wonder if he would.

Re: Spencer/Brendon, early morning bed nuzzling

[makesomelove.livejournal.com]

Awwwwwwwwww. I do so love sleepy nuzzles!

brendon/jon, snickerdoodle

[exsequar.livejournal.com]

Brendon felt the same way about Jon Walker as most people do about freshly baked cookies. Of course, it was a little more complicated than that, since Jon had a personality and nice brown eyes and a kind, goofy laugh and all kinds of things distinctly un-cookielike. But the general idea was the same.

Brendon flopped on the lounge couch right next to Jon and acquainted himself intimately with the warm dip between Jon's neck and shoulder. "I want to take a bite out of you, Jon Walker," he announced.

Jon didn't look up from the magazine he was reading, but the corner of his lips quirked a bit. "I thought you hated blood," he said mildly.

Brendon huffed in exasperation. "I didn't mean literally, Jon Walker. Duh." In retaliation he poked his tongue out and licked a wet stripe up the side of Jon's throat. Jon laughed and hunched his shoulders up to his ears, playfully pushing Brendon away with his elbow. Brendon simply bounced on his cushion a couple of times, looking thoughtful. "Hmm, not very chocolatey. I need another sample!"

He lunged for Jon again, this time going for the full body tackle, and they ended up sprawled on the not-very-spacious couch, tangled and laughing breathlessly as Brendon strove to reach Jon's neck with his tongue. Chocolatey or not, it was a very tasty neck. Jon's unfair weight advantage was foiling him, however, so he decided to - not cheat, Brendon Urie doesn't cheat - change the rules, and suddenly went for the strip of skin winking at him between Jon's t-shirt and jeans. He made good on his announcement, baring his teeth to nip at Jon's nicely soft hip, causing Jon to make an uncharacteristically high-pitched noise and squirm under him.

Brendon heard someone clear their throat behind him, and he reluctantly pulled his attention away from Jon the Squeaking Cookie to glance over his shoulder. "Ryan! Hi Ryan! Jon's a lot more fun than a cookie, don't you think? He tastes better too, come try!"

Ryan's only response was a raised eyebrow, but Brendon could have sworn that he saw Ryan's lips twitching before he turned to the refrigerator.

Jon was shaking under Brendon's hands, and Brendon turned back to find his head tossed back in the throes of full-bodied giggles. Brendon grinned, wide and happy, and quickly squirmed upwards to lick at Jon's throat. "Mmm. I think you are most like... a snickerdoodle! Are you my snickerdoodle, Jon Walker?"

Jon struggled to catch his breath, lowering his head to smile widely at Brendon, eyes sparkling with tears of mirth. "Yes, Brendon. I am your snickerdoodle."

Well, that was just the best thing Brendon had ever heard in his life. He snuggled happily down against Jon's chest, Jon's warm and squishy and distinctly-better-than-cookie chest. "I have my very own human snickerdoodle! I am the luckiest person in the whole world."

Jon's chest rumbled pleasantly under Brendon's cheek, and he felt Jon's lips press gently to the top of his head. He smiled happily to himself and settled in for a well-deserved nap. Cookie tasting was tiring work.

Re: brendon/jon, snickerdoodle

[adellyna.livejournal.com]

N'awwwwwwwwww!!!!

Brendon, Ryan, distracted kisses (ftw!)

[keeplistening.livejournal.com]

This is such an adorableeee idea!

----

Brendon slipped through the door from bunks to kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

Jaw clicking audibly around a yawn, he sidled up to Ryan, who was hunched over the counter, scribbling into his notebook, free hand curled around the opposite edge. Brendon reached up and slid his fingers into the hair at the nape of Ryan's neck and scritched gently. Ryan 'hmmm'ed low in his throat and Brendon curled over his back, propped his chin on Ryan's shoulder to stare blankly down at the page, full of Ryan's loopy scrawl, barely even legible.

The pen stopped moving and Ryan angled his head to look at Brendon, and the corner of his mouth hitched into a smile. With a sleepy, answering grin, Brendon pressed a soft kiss to the upturned edge of Ryan's mouth, giving his neck a final rub before pulling away and making for the back lounge, and he could hear Ryan start humming tunelessly as he left.

Re: Brendon, Ryan, distracted kisses (ftw!)

[exsequar.livejournal.com]

Oh oh! *heartclench* Sleepy sweet boys! This makes me so happy :D

saw this on mariannfic so i thought hey why not

[the-rhimix.livejournal.com]

Brendon doesn't know how it all started, let alone where.

Right now, all he knows is that he's happy and set and wrapped up in Ryan's body. His face is curved into Ryan's neck, plump lips carefully kissing the pale skin. He breathes in his scent, an aroma of vanilla, tea and Ryan. He smiles, almost, and just lays there.

There are fingers on his back, tracing odd patterns on the small of it right above his ass. It tickles and Brendon arches slightly, letting a small noise in the back on his throat. Ryan, too, makes a noise, more like a laugh and continues.

After a while, Ryan's fingers stop and Brendon looks up. He lets out a little whine, pushing his back against Ryan's hand but his hand is lost and finds itself on Brendon's jawline. He closes his eyes and nuzzles into the touch, leaning up to kiss Ryan.

Ryan leans foreward aswell and their lips connect like a puzzle. They both sigh into the kiss and Brendon remembers.

Well, he remembers why it all started.


-----
word count? 179 :[

Re: saw this on mariannfic so i thought hey why not

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

Awww, this is precious. :D

(And no frowny face over the word count, it's over 100! That's good!)

Brendon, Jon, Spencer, more distracted kissing!

[keeplistening.livejournal.com]

Part 2! \o/

-----

Brendon plopped himself down between Jon and Spencer, landing half on Jon's lap, and curled his arms back around their shoulders. Turned his eyes to the TV screen and kicked his feet out excitedly. "Oooooh, I love this episode!"

Jon and Spencer were on rewatch number...oh, who knew, refusing to acknowledge that there was never going to be any more of The OC. Ever again.

Brendon watched as Summer ran through the Cohen's house in search of Seth, found him hanging upside down from the roof in the pouring rain. Jon sighed happily, wrapped a hand around Brendon's knee and rubbed at it with his thumb. Spencer tipped his head back against Brendon's arm, soft hair tickling at his skin, then stretched a hand across Brendon's lap to Jon's, finding Jon's other hand and lacing their fingers together.

Glancing down at their joined hands and smiling, Brendon looked from Jon's profile to Spencer's, stated affectionately, "My boys." Twisted his body to press an open-mouthed kiss to both of their jaws before standing up. Their hands fitted together again in the space where Brendon had sat, and Spencer leaned his head on Jon's shoulder, watching Summer and Seth kiss on screen. Jon tilted his head, eyes never leaving the screen, and pressed his own lingering kiss to Spencer's forehead.

[makesomelove.livejournal.com]

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD OH MY GOD LOVE OT3 4EVER. Kisses during The OC, amazing.

i am so random, just go with it...

[lifeslushlips.livejournal.com]

Just as he's about to light it, Frank's cigarette gets plucked out of mouth and he's being kissed. It's hot and wet and a little sloppy, but that's the way he likes it. Like it was completely unplanned. It reminds him a little of kissing Gerard actually.

He pushes up, shoulder blades flat on the wall, to get closer to that mouth. The mouth that is currently sliding along his jaw, nipping and licking, finally stopping at his earlobe with a sharp bite that makes Frank gasp. One leg slides between his and when Frank turns his head, their lips crash together again and all he can think is yesyesyes. A hand curls on his hip, pulling him in close and Frank's fingertips sneak under the edge of his shirt, skimming over warm, bare skin.

They break apart and against Frank's neck, he pants, "We should to go inside - "

"Brendon?"

Someone calls out in the dark and neither of them moves. They hold their breath until they hear soft footsteps moving in the other direction.

"That was…"

"Close," Frank finishes. And kisses him again.

Re: i am so random, just go with it...

[makesomelove.livejournal.com]

Oh my God, MY LIFE. I'm not sure you understand, because like, I want Frank/Brendon really badly all the time, but it doesn't even make sense so no one writes it? BUT IT'S SO HOT. FRANK AND BRENDON. OH GOD ILU FOR IT :(

Brendon/Spencer/Ryan: Seventeen

[alwayseven.livejournal.com]

'"Happy birthday Spencer," Ryan mumbles before he leans in and kisses Spencer, soft and slow.

Brendon's right there pressed up against Spencer's side, warm through the thin cotton of their t-shirts. He smells like freshly cut grass and soap and Dr. Pepper.

Spencer's a little lost. Nowhere on his list of cool things about turning seventeen did threesome with best friends make an appearance. Had he known it was even the faintest hint of a possibility, it would have been number one, in capslock and bright flashing letters.

But Brendon's pressing his mouth, open and warm to Spencer's cheek and Ryan's slipping his hands to rest at Spencer's waist and he might be a little confused, or dreaming, but he's not stupid. He opens his mouth and Ryan's tongue slips between his lips and Spencer shudders to his toes because Ryan. Spencer pushes his fingers into Ryan's hair and strokes the nape of his neck where he's most sensitive and feels him sigh into the kiss.

Brendon's fingers are drawing faint circles on Spencer's wrist and Spencer didn't know he had nerve endings there that were connected straight to his dick but apparently. He makes an embarrassingly needy noise into Ryan's mouth and Ryan's fingers dig possessively into his hip.

There's a rustle of movement and then Brendon's nudging Ryan a millimeter out of the way and his lips are on Spencer's and it's a weird sort of three-person kiss that's awkward in practice but hot as hell and Spencer can't help the little groan that slips out, half pushed into Brendon's mouth, Ryan taking the rest.

Spencer won't be rude and open his eyes but he wishes someone was there taking pictures or something so he could see what this looks like, a weird mashup of mouths and lips and tongues. Of Ryan and Brendon, together, with him. Holy fuck.

Re: Brendon/Spencer/Ryan: Seventeen

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

asfds;fkdg;kd

BEST BIRTHDAY EVER except woe, no Jon.

Jon/Tom (I can't write any other pairing lately): I Turn My Camera On

[sweetrecovery.livejournal.com]

Tom reached across Jon to the nightstand, where his camera had been all night, an inanimate observer of their sleep. Tom sat up, the sheets bunching around his hips, and slid the camera off the table into his hand, careful not touch Jon. He messed around with the settings until he could focus on Jon's shoulder, his face and the rest of the room -- the nightstand, the lamp and digital red clock with its obtrusively red numbers, the worn carpeting, the door to the bathroom -- slightly blurred in the background. Tom took one picture with the flash off, and another with the flash on.

After the flash went off, Jon’s eyes opened wide and his body sprung upward.
"What's that?" His voice was groggy, filled with sleep and the aftermath of a dream.

Tom held the camera away from his body; this was the only explanation he could give.

Jon lowered his head onto the pillow, resting on his back. He closed his eyes. "I was sleeping. You could've waited, or, I don't know, not used the flash.

"I took two pictures. One without flash and one with."

"What are you taking pictures of, anyway?" Jon rolled onto his side.

Tom lay next to Jon, still grasping his camera, and whispered into Jon’s ear, "You."

Jon turned his head, nose nudging Tom's, and kissed him, fingers slowly wrestling the camera away. Tom let go, letting the camera fall next to him, and slid his fingers through Jon's hair. Tom sighed. For just a few minutes, he could forget about his camera.

Re: Jon/Tom (I can't write any other pairing lately): I Turn My Camera On

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

*sighs in utter contentment*

Pete/Patrick: naps

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

"Hey, hey."

Something's nuzzling his cheek, soft and gentle, but insistent. It's a little annoying.

"Pete, your fucking dog's in my face," Patrick mumbles, half awake, the words more or less not completely formed as he tries to cling to whatever bits of his nap are left. He passed on Pete's couch hours ago, catching up on sleep he hasn't bothered to miss until now.

He hears a familiar chuckle from above him. "So you're saying I have a wet nose? Hemmy's flattered, I think." And then, before Patrick can fully blink his eyes open, Pete's draping his body over him, a press of weight that's oddly comforting, and kissing Patrick's chin, his lower lip.

"Ugh, heavy." But instead of shoving him off, Patrick just stretches and yawns, his body sinking deeper into the couch as Pete's hands slide under his waist, chin resting over his heart.

Re: Pete/Patrick: naps

[lifeslushlips.livejournal.com]

LOVE.

gerard/pete, excuses excuses

[figletofvenice.livejournal.com]

I don't even know. Lets just pretend that I knew what was going to happen in this one?

+

“This is a really bad idea,” Gerard says, with his hands curled up in the collar of Pete’s shirt, the pads of his fingers swiping over the skin that’s pulled taut over Pete’s collarbones. He can feel the heat from Pete’s body against the palms of his hands, Pete’s breath on the side of his neck as he leans closer.

“Probably,” Pete says. “Usually, yeah.” Pete’s voice is whisper-thin and fakely intimate, something they are not – not here, especially, backstage under the fluorescent lighting and white-painted brick, metal folding chairs and peeling linoleum tiles. Pete’s not actually touching Gerard, just leaning in close, and he looks up into Gerard’s eyes with a grin so far open that Gerard can see the pink of his gums, eyes wide with faux-innocence out of place with the rest of his face. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Gerard breathes in, careful slow cautious, and none of those things are what Pete wants from him, what Pete sees when he stands sidestage and watches. But Pete just darts in quick, presses his lips hard against Gerard’s, more mash than kiss, and Gerard doesn’t so much care where this ends up as where it’s going now.

“Just thought someone should point out the obvious,” he says, and Pete laughs high in the back of his throat, a sound that stops abruptly when Gerard moves his fingers to touch Pete’s adams apple. He can feel the vibration of trapped sound on his fingertips. “That’s all.”

Gerard kisses Pete with teeth, biting into his bottom lip, and he can feel the squirm that runs through Pete’s body with his fingers, the pant of Pete’s breath against his mouth, and Pete is laughing somewhere, mirth in his eyes and in the tongue that sweeps across Gerard’s teeth, in the fingers that clutch at Gerard’s arms. His fingernails are digging into skin the beneath Gerard’s t-shirt sleeves, and if Gerard had ever stopped to think about this beforehand, ever thought about kissing Pete Wentz, he doubts he would’ve imagined it soft, imagined it tentative, all coy eyes and petting fingers.

There is harshness between them, and almost no reason for it. Gerard’s not sure he’s ever wondered why before.

“Exactly,” Pete says, pulling away just long enough for the word to slip out. His breath is warm against Gerard’s lips, his smile something quieter than Gerard is used to, and Gerard isn’t sure just what Pete’s referring to, but he doesn’t much care.

Re: gerard/pete, excuses excuses

[wishpaper.livejournal.com]

MADDY I LOVE YOU FOREVER FOR WRITING MY SECRET CROSSOVER OTP YOU ARE PRETTY MUCH THE GREATEST PERSON ON THE PLANET, EVER ♥

patrick/pete, birthday! cupcakes! kissing!

[likealocket.livejournal.com]

HI! Best idea EVER. :D

This is the beginning of a birthday WIP I'm playing with. I don't even know. But there's kissing!


The night Patrick turns sixteen they play a show in a friend of a friend of Joe's cousin's basement and they still kind of suck a lot, but they suck together, as an actual band, which is the most important part.

While they were playing, he sort of forgot it was his birthday, until he snaps his guitar case closed and Pete's there, shoving a pumpkin cupcake into his hand.

"Had my mom make 'em vegan," Pete explains with a grin and Patrick's kind of impressed, mostly that Pete's managed to keep them from being smashed or stolen all night.

Pete butts his cupcake up against Patrick's like clinking champagne glasses and takes a bite.

"Happy Sweet Fucking Sixteen, Trick," Pete whispers, his nose pressed beside Patrick's ear. Pete's fingers twist Patrick's head around Pete presses a quick, open mouth kiss to Patrick's lips.

Pete tastes like pumpkin and sugar and Patrick's sixteenth birthday is pretty awesome.

******

The next year they're driving to a show two states away. Pete makes them pull over at a random truck stop in Bumfuck, Indiana and uses all his magazine and Mountain Dew money to buy three twin packs of those cupcakes with the squiggly white icing on the top and a tradition is born.

Patrick shares his Sprite with Pete.

Re: patrick/pete, birthday! cupcakes! kissing!

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

OMG, *swoon*! So precious, and the cupcakes, OH. LOVE.

[echoelf.livejournal.com]

It feels kind of sacrilegious to be making out during The Wizard of Oz. Every time Brendon hears snippets the Cowardly Lion singing about all the things he could do if he only had the nerve over the wet kissing noises that are filling his ears, his inner child cries out in agony and begs him to stop. And, yet, it’s not quite enough to make Brendon push Bill away and tell him to wait until after the movie, because Bill’s hands are sliding up under his shirt and his mouth is warm as it sucks on Brendon’s lower lip, and even though they’re both kind of drunk and they haven’t been kissing for long enough to really get used to each other so it’s still a little sloppy, Brendon can tell that Bill’s a pretty phenomenal kisser.

“Do you want to move this to my bunk?” he whispers against Brendon’s mouth, and, hang on, maybe that’s moving a little fast, and what does Bill even want out of this anyway? What does Brendon want for that matter?

“Can’t we just stay here?” Brendon whispers, running his hands up Bill’s back.

“I mean, sure, whatever you’re comfortable with. It’s just, you know, Butcher,” Bill replies, nodding towards a passed out figure on the floor. Brendon hadn’t even realized that there was anyone in the room with them, but he saw how much Butcher had to drink after the show and from the way his body’s sprawled across the carpet, he’s pretty sure he’s dead asleep and, well, the truth is, Brendon’s still got a little bit of that conservative Mormon boy left in him, and he’s not sure he wants to do anything that would require the minimal privacy of a bunk.

“Let’s just, let’s just stay here,” he whispers, and kisses Bill again, sucking his lower lip into his mouth and running his tongue along it.

Without breaking the kiss, Bill somehow manages to move from his spot next to Brendon on the couch to a far more convenient one right between Brendon’s legs, and then all of a sudden Brendon’s shirt is up around his armpits and Bill’s tongue is ghosting against his in this way that makes his whole body break out into goosebumps. Brendon digs his fingers into Bill’s sides and arches up into him.

“You still sure you don’t want to move to my bunk?” Bill whispers, running his hands over Brendon’s chest.

Brendon glances down at the floor. Butcher still appears to be passed out, but, well, the way things are going, Brendon doesn’t really want to risk having him wake up to take a piss because, honestly, at this point Bill’s managed to kiss away whatever remaining scruples he has, and he’s up for pretty much anything Bill proposes.

“No, I, I think maybe we should move,” he whispers back, and pushes Bill off of him so he can stand up.

It isn’t until the next morning when he walks into the front of The Academy’s bus and hears Butcher telling Tom and Adam all about the scarring experience he’d had while trying to watch a movie the night before (“Noises, guys. They were making noises.”) that Brendon realizes just what a good decision that had been.

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

AHAHAHA OH BUTCHER. ♥

Very hot, yes. Nnnguh.

Spencer/Jon early days, first kiss.

[violentfires.livejournal.com]

The first time they touch is involuntary, a subtle brush of fingers in the back of a van traveling on the wrong side of the road. Spencer flinches, oncoming traffic making him tense, nervous, anticipating a collision that never quite happens. Jon grins at him, taps his fingers on Spencer's deliberately and says calmly, you get used to it.

Spencer does; trains himself which way to look before crossing the street, learns to relax as a passenger, sits next to Jon on purpose and rests his hand palm up on the slim swatch of upholstery between them, hoping.

The first time they hug, Jon is drunk; he's telling everyone goodnight like they might sleep for years, like it's some indeterminate goodbye. Spencer watches Ryan nudge him off, annoyed and turning away, dragging Brendon behind him. Jon's eyes are wide, shiny and repentant, and when his arms fold around Spencer, they slide together easily and Spencer's eyes fall shut all on their own. Jon is warm, solid and comfortable, and Spencer doesn't want to let go.

They share a bunk two nights later, laying side by side on their backs in the dark, and stay up whispering until Spencer's stomach hurts and his limbs ache with a weariness that he knows will linger the remainder of the day. They don't say goodnight officially; the conversation between them just slows and pauses, until Spencer says something and Jon doesn't respond. Spencer turns his head on the pillow, getting comfortable, and is almost asleep when Jon rolls onto his side and they collide, bumped arms and noses and lips faintly brushing. Spencer stays still as his heart skips once and then races wildly, before tilting his chin up ever so slightly, pressing more firmly against Jon's mouth, causing him to stir.

Only Jon Walker would make their first kiss an accident.

Spencer could get used to it.

Re: Spencer/Jon early days, first kiss.

[exsequar.livejournal.com]

Oh! Ohmyheart! This is so precious, I just want to wrap it around me and snuggle. Awww.