![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Fic: I'll Be Your Thrill
I'll Be Your Thrill
[Ryan/Spencer, 4000 words, NC-17 for underage shenanigans]
by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
foxxcub & ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
txtequilanights
Once Spencer figures it out, he doesn't know how he missed it at all.
Yeah, hi, this would be baby!Ryan/Spencer tiems written, like, an obscene amount of times through AIM with Rachel. Please don't judge us, we just really, um, think they're shiny? *hands* Beta'd byshleemeri, because her life is so hard.
Spencer wakes up slowly. His bedroom is dark, glowing numbers on the clock tell him it's just after three in the morning. Ryan's hand is on Spencer's hip, burning though the fabric of Spencer's boxers. Spencer shakes his head, pushes through sleepy disorientation and tries to figure out what woke him up. Once he figures it out, he doesn't know how he missed it at all.
Ryan is shifting behind him, his hips pushing forward to slide against the small of Spencer's back. He's hard; Spencer can feel the press of Ryan's dick and the hitch of his breath every time they come into contact. Holy shit he thinks, and the words slip from his brain and out his mouth before he can stop them. He freezes.
It's barely a whisper, even, but Ryan must hear him, because he makes this sound, rough and raw like Spencer's never heard before. The sound rumbles against Spencer's neck just as Ryan's hips jerk into him and Spencer gets hard so fast it leaves him dizzy. He exhales shakily and tries to think past the possessive tightening of Ryan's hand on his hip and the rub of Ryan's dick against his back. All he ends up with is a lot of whatthefuckwhathefuckwhatthefuck, so he gives up and goes with it.
He cups himself, closing his fingers around his dick and rubs his palm over the head, hard, gasping softly when Ryan thrusts up against his back once more. Without thinking, he picks up a rhythm to match Ryan's, and eventually he's even pushing back a little. The front of his shorts are already damp, and the small of his back feels slightly wet as well, and what the hell is going on?
Suddenly it hits him, forceful enough to make him gasp and bite his lip to keep the sound in. He's coming over his hand, his entire body shaking, and Ryan's still rubbing, still making those sounds that Spencer's never heard before in his life, let alone from him. Spencer shifts against him once more, and he's still half-hard in his sticky hand, and a handful of seconds later he feels the familiar warm wetness against his back, and Ryan is instantly quiet, breathing in tight, small breaths.
They both lie still and silent for a long moment. Spencer can practically hear the seconds ticking by in his head. Then Ryan crawls out from under the covers and off the end of the bed. Spencer's back feels cold and clammy and gross without Ryan's body heat. Ryan still doesn't say anything, he just goes to dig around in his duffle bag and comes up with a pair of clean shorts. Spencer tries not to stare as Ryan changes, but fails. It's nothing he hasn't seen Ryan do a hundred times before, but this is completely not the same.
Spencer's never been getting harder in his hand while Ryan skims out of his boxers. He's never been already sticky with his own come on his fingers and Ryan's on his back as Ryan steps into a new pair. He knows he should get up and change, too, before Ryan comes back. But moving means making it obvious that he's still hard. He's feeling the age difference between them, that year between fourteen and fifteen that somehow allows you to do what they just did and not flip your shit completely.
Ryan is still fussing with his clothes when Spencer finally works up the nerve to slide out from under the comforter and shuffle over his dresser, careful to keep his back to Ryan. He changes as fast as he can and slips back into the bed, curling up as close to the edge as he can get. He's still achingly hard; his dick throbs every time he breathes.
He hears the rustle of blankets a second later, and the bed dips as Ryan climbs back in beside him. Spencer's bed is small, too small for them to not be touching, but they manage it somehow. But not by much, Spencer can feel the heat from Ryan's body against his back.
When Ryan speaks, it startles Spencer. "Hey, it's nothing, okay?"
He nods. He doesn't breath at all, but he still nods. And then it's as if that's all Ryan has to really say on the whole thing, because within minutes Spencer hears his breathing go slow and even, pacing itself out into the sound of sleep. He swears he can hear every movement of Ryan's lungs expanding and contracting.
Spencer lies there for what feels like hours, but eventually he falls asleep. Unfortunately, his still-buzzing, hormonal brain decides to dream about Ryan giving him a blowjob. His brain has a ton of fun imagining this, too, so much fun Spencer's waking up in the midst of another orgasm, pulsing hot over his hand. Again.
It seriously would not be that big of an issue--he could simply roll out of bed and change his shorts (again) without notice--except Ryan is half-sprawled over him, his leg hooked loosely over Spencer's knee, arm curled along his back. It's all hothot skin because Ryan never sleeps with a shirt on.
His heart is pounding a million miles an hour as he crawls carefully out from under Ryan and flees to the bathroom.
Spencer's mother is sitting at the kitchen table when he trudges downstairs, pulling at his clean t-shirt and pajama pants like the reason he had to change into them is printed across his forehead.
He flops down across from his mom and she looks at him curiously over the top of her newspaper. "You do know it's Saturday, right?"
"Couldn't sleep," Spencer mumbles. "Ryan's being a bed hog."
He absolutely does not blush when he says it.
"Aw. Do you want me to make some pancakes?" His mom reaches over and ruffles his hair, laughing when he ducks away. He doesn't mind, usually, but it feels slightly wrong considering he just had a wet dream about his best friend blowing him. Plus the whole…other thing.
He just says, "Yes, please," and tries very hard not to think about Ryan upstairs, sprawled across Spencer's bed.
He gets up and pours himself a cup of coffee, but he doesn't drink it. Instead, Spencer stands at the counter and inhales the smell, which makes him think of Ryan (who loves coffee), which then makes him think once more about his bed upstairs and how it kind of smells like sex. It's appropriate, since they did have sex in a way, or the closest thing to it Spencer's ever experienced. He's never done anything remotely like that before in his life, never, and his hand is starting to shake as he sets his mug on the counter. The last (and only) time Spencer's kissed anyone was Samantha Jenkins at some birthday party a few months ago, during a game of Spin-the-Bottle. Ryan was there, he watched it happen, and then later hugged an arm around Spencer's shoulders and told him she'd looked like she had enjoyed it.
When Ryan finally comes downstairs, Spencer's on the couch in the living room watching TV. He's still shirtless, pajama pants riding low on his hips. Not that Spencer is looking at him to notice.
Ryan mutters something that sounds vaguely like "morning" and disappears into the kitchen. Spencer glances at the clock on the VCR. It's ten minutes after noon.
A minute later, Ryan wanders back in with a cup of coffee clutched in his hand. There are two whole empty recliners in the room, but Ryan aims straight for the couch and bats half-heartedly at Spencer's feet until he swings them down and gives Ryan room to sit. Ryan presses close, invading Spencer's personal space like he does every day of their lives, and Spencer feels his heart rate pick up speed.
Spencer shifts nervously and flips past twenty channels in a row without really seeing what's on them. He doesn't stop until Ryan says, "Oooh, Family Guy, leave it there." Spencer sighs and drops the remote on the floor by his feet. Cartoon Network it is.
Ryan curls closer, tucking his feet up under him and blowing on his coffee as he leans into Spencer's side. Spencer glances at Ryan from the corner of his eye just in time to see Ryan take a tentative sip of coffee. He groans appreciatively and Spencer is instantly bombarded with flashbacks to how Ryan had sounded before, when he was coming against Spencer's back.
It's going to be a really long fucking weekend.
An hour later, Ryan's empty mug is sitting abandoned on the coffee table and he's stretched out on the couch, his head in Spencer's lap. Spencer would normally play with Ryan's hair, twist it into weird shapes, but now he has no idea what to do with his hands, so he splays them on either side of his hips on the couch and pays very close attention to the TV. This is an important episode of Family Guy. Really.
Eventually his sisters come downstairs and start hanging all over them and tickling Ryan, who tickles back, laughing. He's wiggling in Spencer's lap, and it's really, really annoying; it causes Ryan's shoulder to rub up against his crotch. Spencer can't breathe, so he shoves Ryan away and scrambles off the couch in favor of one of the recliners. He curls up into a tight ball in the chair, making any attempts to climb him impossible.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Ryan give him a weird look that he'd read as hurt under normal circumstances, but now it makes no sense. He's the one acting like nothing happened, like he does shit like this everyday.
He really wants Ryan to leave, only he doesn't at all. And besides, Ryan always spends the whole weekend over here. Spencer's mom'll think they're in a fight or something if Ryan goes home early.
So Spencer just deals with it. And if he looks at Ryan a little more than usual, or sits farther away from him at dinner than usual, or stays up playing video games until he's sure Ryan is asleep, well. Ryan doesn't seem to notice, so what does it really matter?
The weird pattern of awkward avoidance lasts until Sunday afternoon, when Ryan loses spectacularly at Halo and makes a grab for Spencer's controller, insisting they have to switch, in the interest of fairness or something. Whatever, Ryan has never been a very good loser. Spencer jerks the controller out of Ryan's reach automatically and the next thing he knows they're pushing at each other and wrestling on the couch.
Ryan sucks pretty hard at any kind of wrestling, no matter how playful, so it's not really a surprise when he gives up after a few minutes and blows his hair petulantly out of his eyes. What is a surprise is that he's practically in Spencer's lap when he does it. They're both breathing hard.
"You suck, Smith," Ryan declares.
Spencer is getting hard, which is apparently his body's new reaction to Ryan touching him, like, at all. He really doesn't want to do this. He'd much rather run away again. So he just mutters, "You, too." It's exceptionally lame, but Spencer doesn't so much care.
He pushes at Ryan, trying to wiggle out from under him and get free, but Ryan just laughs and grabs at Spencer's wrists like they're still playing. Spencer fights back and this time when they settle, Spencer is the one straddling Ryan's lap. Ryan tilts his head and when his hands come to rest on Spencer's hips, Spencer's stomach flips over.
There's no hiding his erection, not when he's wearing basketball shorts, not when his groin is pressed up against Ryan's and all Ryan has to do is look down. Or shift up.
Ryan does the latter, and Spencer realizes with a gasp that he's hard, too. He pushes up against Spencer again, and suddenly it's all happening like before, only now they're face-to-face and Spencer doesn't have to touch himself.
He really, really can't breathe at all, and his brain is screaming, God, what the hell is going on?, until Ryan tightens his hands on Spencer's hips, and then his brain goes blank. He can't decide where his own hands should go, so he ends up grabbing Ryan's arms awkwardly as he grinds down without thinking.
Ryan hisses air through his teeth and thrusts back. His arms flex under Spencer's hands as he tugs at Spencer's hips. Spencer can't physically get any closer to Ryan, so he settles for leaning in and pressing their foreheads together so that they're breathing in each other's air. Spencer is panting, trying to say Ryan's name or ask him what's going on, but all he can manage is a whimper and meet the roll of Ryan's hips.
Ryan is breathing Spencer's name in tiny bursts of syllables, barely intelligible. Spencer is ridiculously happy to be getting a reaction out of him, after Ryan has spent the whole weekend acting like nothing weird has happened at all. But now his fingers are pushed under Spencer's shirt and digging into the soft skin above his waistband. It's probably going to leave a mark, Spencer thinks, and he isn't expecting the tiny shiver that goes through him at the idea.
There's this sound stuck in Spencer's throat, a throaty "nu-huh" over and over, it sounds stupidly loud in his ears. He jerks at the sound of it, his hips pressing extra hard against Ryan's and, god. He's so, so close.
Ryan shifts under him, angles his head and catches Spencer's mouth in a kiss. It's too wet and too messy and their teeth clack together, but it's what Spencer needs and he comes with a groan that Ryan instantly swallows. They kiss through the aftershocks of Spencer's orgasm and keep kissing until Ryan starts to shake under him, biting at Spencer's mouth as he comes.
They break apart, panting. The sound of their breathing is loud and sharp in the room. Spencer has never been so grateful to his parents for leaving him and Ryan alone in the house while they take his sisters to see whatever the Disney movie of the month is.
Ryan looks completely wrecked; Spencer has never seen him look like this before. He's not meeting Spencer's eyes.
They're still half-hard, and the air in the room is too stuffy, impossible to breathe. Just when Spencer's about to freak out over what happens next, Ryan lifts his hand from Spencer's hip and cups him through his (damp) shorts. Spencer makes a tiny strangled noise in his throat.
"You're still hard," Ryan whispers. He sounds amazed by this fact, and Spencer just wants to kiss him. He leans in and presses his mouth to Ryan's tentatively, and this time it's softer, better. He can feel Ryan open his mouth, letting Spencer do what he wants, because he's done this part before, the making out. Spencer's heart pumps hard in his throat; he likes knowing that Ryan's allowing him to learn.
He's never been so nervous in his life. This isn't Spin-the-Bottle, and this isn't some random guy he's kissing. This is Ryan.
Ryan seems to be just as into it as Spencer is, he makes a soft sound in his throat when their tongues touch and takes Spencer's hand off his arm, presses Spencer's palm against his dick. Spencer isn't the only one who's still hard.
When Spencer moans into Ryan's mouth, Ryan pulls back and says Spencer's name quietly. Spencer isn't ever going to get tired of that. He loves the way it sounds. Ryan has been saying Spencer's name for ten years, but it's never sounded like that.
Spencer squeezes his hand, just to experiment, and Ryan makes the noise from the other night, the low, rough one that sounds like it's dragging up from deep in his chest. He strokes his hand over Spencer's dick, pressing hard at the base. It's so good that it almost hurts, considering Spencer did just come, like, five minutes ago, but it doesn't even matter. He's touching Ryan and Ryan's touching him and then Spencer leans back in and they're kissing again.
Ryan licks at Spencer's lower lip and Spencer can't help but wonder if Ryan likes kissing him better than kissing girls. Spencer wonders if he's even any good at it. If he lets himself think about it, he's wanted to do this for a while, he just never realized how much. He mostly just chalked it up to hormones and wet dreams and ignored it.
He never thought anything like this would happen. But then, he didn't know Ryan was into guys. He feels like that's something he should have known. Unless it took Ryan by surprise, too, which Spencer doubts. Ryan rarely lets himself be taken by surprise.
Spencer kind of never wants to kiss anyone ever again; that would mean Ryan would be the only person he'll have kissed, which is so sappy it hurts, but it's true. He's being such a fucking girl.
He's also totally and completely going to come again. Spencer can already feel the muscles in his stomach clenching; thank god he's pretty sure Ryan isn't that far behind. He'd really like it if Ryan came first for a change, but it's a moot point, since he's already shaking and coming in his shorts for the second time in, like, ten minutes.
Spencer gasps and pulls back, watching as Ryan swears, his mouth falling open as he comes, and it's probably the hottest thing Spencer has ever seen, holy shit. His dick actually twitches, and it hurts a little.
He's still breathing shakily and he doesn't know what's supposed to happen now. Ryan is still holding on to him, one hand on Spencer's hip and the other on his thigh. Spencer flexes his fingers against Ryan's shoulders and tries to think of something to say. Ryan is just sprawled lazily under him, like he's waiting for Spencer to do something. He blinks up at Spencer, and his eyes are dark and hazy.
Spencer just stares at Ryan's mouth. It's red and swollen and all Spencer can think is I did that. He licks his lips, wants to kiss Ryan again, badly. But he doesn't, because what the hell?
"What. What is this?" The words come out breathless.
Ryan raises an eyebrow. "What do you want it to be?" It's such a stupid, cheesy movie line that Spencer should laugh, but he can't. Because he doesn't know what he wants. Or, well, maybe he kind of does, but he doesn't know how to say it.
He swallows and licks his lips again and finally just says, "Fuck," and starts to climb off Ryan's lap.
Ryan reaches for him, pulls Spencer back and holds on tighter. "Hey, stop. Say something."
"I don't know." Because Spencer can't lie to Ryan, he's never been able to.
Ryan gets that hurt look in his eyes again. "You don't know?"
"I want this, I guess? But I just don't…" Because Spencer can't want something if he doesn't know what it is. He doesn't even know what Ryan wants, for fuck's sake. And Ryan isn't volunteering, he's just asking questions.
So Spencer looks down at Ryan's chest and whispers, "What do you want?"
Ryan says, "Hey, hey." He tilts Spencer's head up and kisses him, which is nice, but not an answer. Spencer pulls out of the kiss and shakes his head, glaring as he untangles himself from Ryan and goes upstairs to his room. He can't deal with this if Ryan isn't willing to talk to him. Ryan can't keep asking questions of he doesn't want to answer some himself.
Spencer gets in a good thirty seconds of lying on his stomach, face buried in his pillow, before he hears the door open and Ryan says, "Spence? I'm sorry."
Spencer sighs. He's sulking, dammit.
Ryan comes and sits on the bed, close enough that his hip presses into Spencer's side. He puts his hand on Spencer's back and rubs in tiny, uncertain circles. "You're my best friend."
Which is nice, sure, but Spencer wasn't asking Ryan to state the obvious. He thinks that Ryan really needs to stop helping, he's just making it worse.
Thankfully, he goes silent and rubs at Spencer's back for a moment before he says, softly, "I don't know what we're doing, either."
Which is better, but. Spencer rolls over onto his back and looks up at Ryan. "You're not embarrassed about it, are you?"
Ryan looks surprised at the question. "No. Dude, no."
Spencer nods slowly. "Me either."
"I just don't know what happens now." Spencer isn't used to hearing Ryan sound so unsure. Ryan likes to act like he always knows what he's doing. But now he sounds shaky and a little scared.
"We could just…find out? What this is?" Spencer says. It's sappy and girly and he hates himself instantly.
Ryan doesn't say anything for a long moment, and finally Spencer just looks away, toward the wall, holding his shoulders stiff and straight. "Never mind, forget it."
Ryan says, "No, no. I just. Do you really want that?" Like he thinks Spencer just said it to make Ryan feel better. And, god, he should know Spencer better than that. Spencer doesn't answer, and after a few seconds Ryan stretches out on the bed beside him. He drapes his arm over Spencer's waist and pushes his forehead into the back of Spencer's neck.
Spencer gasps and doesn't move at first. He hates that what would have been a normal, comfortable touch two days ago feels weird and awkward now.
He says, quietly, "I do want that." Because he does, he does. Not that it doesn't scare the shit out him - what if it goes horribly wrong? What if Ryan never talks to him again? Spencer would die inside.
But, at the same time, what if they just ignore it and everything gets even more awkward and more strained until they can't take it and it drives Ryan away? That would be even worse.
Spencer rolls over so that he's face-to-face with Ryan. He can feel Ryan's breath against his chin.
"Really?" Ryan asks, like he expects Spencer to run away again at any second.
Spencer sighs in exasperation and a little bit of nervousness. "Yeah, really. Stop fucking repeating me." And then he leans in and kisses Ryan very, very slowly, holding his breath when their lips meet.
Ryan kisses him back, and it's slow and sweet and everything Spencer has always thought first kisses should be. Not that this is their first kiss, that was wet and messy downstairs, but this feels like a beginning. Spencer concentrates on the kissing, learning how to fit his mouth over Ryan's and how to slide their tongues together, how to taste.
It's nice, kissing Ryan without the desperate need to get off nownownow. He can touch Ryan's face and curl his fingers in Ryan's shirt and just hold on. But he's still wrecked and sleepy from the whole double orgasm thing downstairs, and after a second Spencer breaks off the kiss to yawn.
Ryan yawns, too, and kisses him one more time. Spencer murmurs, "Sorry, just." And he's suddenly so drowsy that he can barely keep his eyes open.
Ryan mumbles, "We're kind of gross, dude," but the words fade out as his head drops onto Spencer's shoulder.
"Shower will be there later," Spencer points out. Ryan is already mostly asleep.
He finally falls asleep, too, and they don't wake up until they hear Spencer's parents and sisters come home. And then they stumble over each other, trying to get up and change clothes before Spencer's mom comes up to check on them.
They tangle up and almost trip, and Ryan steadies them. He guides Spencer up against the dresser and kisses him warmly. Spencer thinks this might actually be okay.
Really okay.
[Ryan/Spencer, 4000 words, NC-17 for underage shenanigans]
by
foxxcub & txtequilanightsOnce Spencer figures it out, he doesn't know how he missed it at all.
Yeah, hi, this would be baby!Ryan/Spencer tiems written, like, an obscene amount of times through AIM with Rachel. Please don't judge us, we just really, um, think they're shiny? *hands* Beta'd by
shleemeri, because her life is so hard. Spencer wakes up slowly. His bedroom is dark, glowing numbers on the clock tell him it's just after three in the morning. Ryan's hand is on Spencer's hip, burning though the fabric of Spencer's boxers. Spencer shakes his head, pushes through sleepy disorientation and tries to figure out what woke him up. Once he figures it out, he doesn't know how he missed it at all.
Ryan is shifting behind him, his hips pushing forward to slide against the small of Spencer's back. He's hard; Spencer can feel the press of Ryan's dick and the hitch of his breath every time they come into contact. Holy shit he thinks, and the words slip from his brain and out his mouth before he can stop them. He freezes.
It's barely a whisper, even, but Ryan must hear him, because he makes this sound, rough and raw like Spencer's never heard before. The sound rumbles against Spencer's neck just as Ryan's hips jerk into him and Spencer gets hard so fast it leaves him dizzy. He exhales shakily and tries to think past the possessive tightening of Ryan's hand on his hip and the rub of Ryan's dick against his back. All he ends up with is a lot of whatthefuckwhathefuckwhatthefuck, so he gives up and goes with it.
He cups himself, closing his fingers around his dick and rubs his palm over the head, hard, gasping softly when Ryan thrusts up against his back once more. Without thinking, he picks up a rhythm to match Ryan's, and eventually he's even pushing back a little. The front of his shorts are already damp, and the small of his back feels slightly wet as well, and what the hell is going on?
Suddenly it hits him, forceful enough to make him gasp and bite his lip to keep the sound in. He's coming over his hand, his entire body shaking, and Ryan's still rubbing, still making those sounds that Spencer's never heard before in his life, let alone from him. Spencer shifts against him once more, and he's still half-hard in his sticky hand, and a handful of seconds later he feels the familiar warm wetness against his back, and Ryan is instantly quiet, breathing in tight, small breaths.
They both lie still and silent for a long moment. Spencer can practically hear the seconds ticking by in his head. Then Ryan crawls out from under the covers and off the end of the bed. Spencer's back feels cold and clammy and gross without Ryan's body heat. Ryan still doesn't say anything, he just goes to dig around in his duffle bag and comes up with a pair of clean shorts. Spencer tries not to stare as Ryan changes, but fails. It's nothing he hasn't seen Ryan do a hundred times before, but this is completely not the same.
Spencer's never been getting harder in his hand while Ryan skims out of his boxers. He's never been already sticky with his own come on his fingers and Ryan's on his back as Ryan steps into a new pair. He knows he should get up and change, too, before Ryan comes back. But moving means making it obvious that he's still hard. He's feeling the age difference between them, that year between fourteen and fifteen that somehow allows you to do what they just did and not flip your shit completely.
Ryan is still fussing with his clothes when Spencer finally works up the nerve to slide out from under the comforter and shuffle over his dresser, careful to keep his back to Ryan. He changes as fast as he can and slips back into the bed, curling up as close to the edge as he can get. He's still achingly hard; his dick throbs every time he breathes.
He hears the rustle of blankets a second later, and the bed dips as Ryan climbs back in beside him. Spencer's bed is small, too small for them to not be touching, but they manage it somehow. But not by much, Spencer can feel the heat from Ryan's body against his back.
When Ryan speaks, it startles Spencer. "Hey, it's nothing, okay?"
He nods. He doesn't breath at all, but he still nods. And then it's as if that's all Ryan has to really say on the whole thing, because within minutes Spencer hears his breathing go slow and even, pacing itself out into the sound of sleep. He swears he can hear every movement of Ryan's lungs expanding and contracting.
Spencer lies there for what feels like hours, but eventually he falls asleep. Unfortunately, his still-buzzing, hormonal brain decides to dream about Ryan giving him a blowjob. His brain has a ton of fun imagining this, too, so much fun Spencer's waking up in the midst of another orgasm, pulsing hot over his hand. Again.
It seriously would not be that big of an issue--he could simply roll out of bed and change his shorts (again) without notice--except Ryan is half-sprawled over him, his leg hooked loosely over Spencer's knee, arm curled along his back. It's all hothot skin because Ryan never sleeps with a shirt on.
His heart is pounding a million miles an hour as he crawls carefully out from under Ryan and flees to the bathroom.
Spencer's mother is sitting at the kitchen table when he trudges downstairs, pulling at his clean t-shirt and pajama pants like the reason he had to change into them is printed across his forehead.
He flops down across from his mom and she looks at him curiously over the top of her newspaper. "You do know it's Saturday, right?"
"Couldn't sleep," Spencer mumbles. "Ryan's being a bed hog."
He absolutely does not blush when he says it.
"Aw. Do you want me to make some pancakes?" His mom reaches over and ruffles his hair, laughing when he ducks away. He doesn't mind, usually, but it feels slightly wrong considering he just had a wet dream about his best friend blowing him. Plus the whole…other thing.
He just says, "Yes, please," and tries very hard not to think about Ryan upstairs, sprawled across Spencer's bed.
He gets up and pours himself a cup of coffee, but he doesn't drink it. Instead, Spencer stands at the counter and inhales the smell, which makes him think of Ryan (who loves coffee), which then makes him think once more about his bed upstairs and how it kind of smells like sex. It's appropriate, since they did have sex in a way, or the closest thing to it Spencer's ever experienced. He's never done anything remotely like that before in his life, never, and his hand is starting to shake as he sets his mug on the counter. The last (and only) time Spencer's kissed anyone was Samantha Jenkins at some birthday party a few months ago, during a game of Spin-the-Bottle. Ryan was there, he watched it happen, and then later hugged an arm around Spencer's shoulders and told him she'd looked like she had enjoyed it.
When Ryan finally comes downstairs, Spencer's on the couch in the living room watching TV. He's still shirtless, pajama pants riding low on his hips. Not that Spencer is looking at him to notice.
Ryan mutters something that sounds vaguely like "morning" and disappears into the kitchen. Spencer glances at the clock on the VCR. It's ten minutes after noon.
A minute later, Ryan wanders back in with a cup of coffee clutched in his hand. There are two whole empty recliners in the room, but Ryan aims straight for the couch and bats half-heartedly at Spencer's feet until he swings them down and gives Ryan room to sit. Ryan presses close, invading Spencer's personal space like he does every day of their lives, and Spencer feels his heart rate pick up speed.
Spencer shifts nervously and flips past twenty channels in a row without really seeing what's on them. He doesn't stop until Ryan says, "Oooh, Family Guy, leave it there." Spencer sighs and drops the remote on the floor by his feet. Cartoon Network it is.
Ryan curls closer, tucking his feet up under him and blowing on his coffee as he leans into Spencer's side. Spencer glances at Ryan from the corner of his eye just in time to see Ryan take a tentative sip of coffee. He groans appreciatively and Spencer is instantly bombarded with flashbacks to how Ryan had sounded before, when he was coming against Spencer's back.
It's going to be a really long fucking weekend.
An hour later, Ryan's empty mug is sitting abandoned on the coffee table and he's stretched out on the couch, his head in Spencer's lap. Spencer would normally play with Ryan's hair, twist it into weird shapes, but now he has no idea what to do with his hands, so he splays them on either side of his hips on the couch and pays very close attention to the TV. This is an important episode of Family Guy. Really.
Eventually his sisters come downstairs and start hanging all over them and tickling Ryan, who tickles back, laughing. He's wiggling in Spencer's lap, and it's really, really annoying; it causes Ryan's shoulder to rub up against his crotch. Spencer can't breathe, so he shoves Ryan away and scrambles off the couch in favor of one of the recliners. He curls up into a tight ball in the chair, making any attempts to climb him impossible.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees Ryan give him a weird look that he'd read as hurt under normal circumstances, but now it makes no sense. He's the one acting like nothing happened, like he does shit like this everyday.
He really wants Ryan to leave, only he doesn't at all. And besides, Ryan always spends the whole weekend over here. Spencer's mom'll think they're in a fight or something if Ryan goes home early.
So Spencer just deals with it. And if he looks at Ryan a little more than usual, or sits farther away from him at dinner than usual, or stays up playing video games until he's sure Ryan is asleep, well. Ryan doesn't seem to notice, so what does it really matter?
The weird pattern of awkward avoidance lasts until Sunday afternoon, when Ryan loses spectacularly at Halo and makes a grab for Spencer's controller, insisting they have to switch, in the interest of fairness or something. Whatever, Ryan has never been a very good loser. Spencer jerks the controller out of Ryan's reach automatically and the next thing he knows they're pushing at each other and wrestling on the couch.
Ryan sucks pretty hard at any kind of wrestling, no matter how playful, so it's not really a surprise when he gives up after a few minutes and blows his hair petulantly out of his eyes. What is a surprise is that he's practically in Spencer's lap when he does it. They're both breathing hard.
"You suck, Smith," Ryan declares.
Spencer is getting hard, which is apparently his body's new reaction to Ryan touching him, like, at all. He really doesn't want to do this. He'd much rather run away again. So he just mutters, "You, too." It's exceptionally lame, but Spencer doesn't so much care.
He pushes at Ryan, trying to wiggle out from under him and get free, but Ryan just laughs and grabs at Spencer's wrists like they're still playing. Spencer fights back and this time when they settle, Spencer is the one straddling Ryan's lap. Ryan tilts his head and when his hands come to rest on Spencer's hips, Spencer's stomach flips over.
There's no hiding his erection, not when he's wearing basketball shorts, not when his groin is pressed up against Ryan's and all Ryan has to do is look down. Or shift up.
Ryan does the latter, and Spencer realizes with a gasp that he's hard, too. He pushes up against Spencer again, and suddenly it's all happening like before, only now they're face-to-face and Spencer doesn't have to touch himself.
He really, really can't breathe at all, and his brain is screaming, God, what the hell is going on?, until Ryan tightens his hands on Spencer's hips, and then his brain goes blank. He can't decide where his own hands should go, so he ends up grabbing Ryan's arms awkwardly as he grinds down without thinking.
Ryan hisses air through his teeth and thrusts back. His arms flex under Spencer's hands as he tugs at Spencer's hips. Spencer can't physically get any closer to Ryan, so he settles for leaning in and pressing their foreheads together so that they're breathing in each other's air. Spencer is panting, trying to say Ryan's name or ask him what's going on, but all he can manage is a whimper and meet the roll of Ryan's hips.
Ryan is breathing Spencer's name in tiny bursts of syllables, barely intelligible. Spencer is ridiculously happy to be getting a reaction out of him, after Ryan has spent the whole weekend acting like nothing weird has happened at all. But now his fingers are pushed under Spencer's shirt and digging into the soft skin above his waistband. It's probably going to leave a mark, Spencer thinks, and he isn't expecting the tiny shiver that goes through him at the idea.
There's this sound stuck in Spencer's throat, a throaty "nu-huh" over and over, it sounds stupidly loud in his ears. He jerks at the sound of it, his hips pressing extra hard against Ryan's and, god. He's so, so close.
Ryan shifts under him, angles his head and catches Spencer's mouth in a kiss. It's too wet and too messy and their teeth clack together, but it's what Spencer needs and he comes with a groan that Ryan instantly swallows. They kiss through the aftershocks of Spencer's orgasm and keep kissing until Ryan starts to shake under him, biting at Spencer's mouth as he comes.
They break apart, panting. The sound of their breathing is loud and sharp in the room. Spencer has never been so grateful to his parents for leaving him and Ryan alone in the house while they take his sisters to see whatever the Disney movie of the month is.
Ryan looks completely wrecked; Spencer has never seen him look like this before. He's not meeting Spencer's eyes.
They're still half-hard, and the air in the room is too stuffy, impossible to breathe. Just when Spencer's about to freak out over what happens next, Ryan lifts his hand from Spencer's hip and cups him through his (damp) shorts. Spencer makes a tiny strangled noise in his throat.
"You're still hard," Ryan whispers. He sounds amazed by this fact, and Spencer just wants to kiss him. He leans in and presses his mouth to Ryan's tentatively, and this time it's softer, better. He can feel Ryan open his mouth, letting Spencer do what he wants, because he's done this part before, the making out. Spencer's heart pumps hard in his throat; he likes knowing that Ryan's allowing him to learn.
He's never been so nervous in his life. This isn't Spin-the-Bottle, and this isn't some random guy he's kissing. This is Ryan.
Ryan seems to be just as into it as Spencer is, he makes a soft sound in his throat when their tongues touch and takes Spencer's hand off his arm, presses Spencer's palm against his dick. Spencer isn't the only one who's still hard.
When Spencer moans into Ryan's mouth, Ryan pulls back and says Spencer's name quietly. Spencer isn't ever going to get tired of that. He loves the way it sounds. Ryan has been saying Spencer's name for ten years, but it's never sounded like that.
Spencer squeezes his hand, just to experiment, and Ryan makes the noise from the other night, the low, rough one that sounds like it's dragging up from deep in his chest. He strokes his hand over Spencer's dick, pressing hard at the base. It's so good that it almost hurts, considering Spencer did just come, like, five minutes ago, but it doesn't even matter. He's touching Ryan and Ryan's touching him and then Spencer leans back in and they're kissing again.
Ryan licks at Spencer's lower lip and Spencer can't help but wonder if Ryan likes kissing him better than kissing girls. Spencer wonders if he's even any good at it. If he lets himself think about it, he's wanted to do this for a while, he just never realized how much. He mostly just chalked it up to hormones and wet dreams and ignored it.
He never thought anything like this would happen. But then, he didn't know Ryan was into guys. He feels like that's something he should have known. Unless it took Ryan by surprise, too, which Spencer doubts. Ryan rarely lets himself be taken by surprise.
Spencer kind of never wants to kiss anyone ever again; that would mean Ryan would be the only person he'll have kissed, which is so sappy it hurts, but it's true. He's being such a fucking girl.
He's also totally and completely going to come again. Spencer can already feel the muscles in his stomach clenching; thank god he's pretty sure Ryan isn't that far behind. He'd really like it if Ryan came first for a change, but it's a moot point, since he's already shaking and coming in his shorts for the second time in, like, ten minutes.
Spencer gasps and pulls back, watching as Ryan swears, his mouth falling open as he comes, and it's probably the hottest thing Spencer has ever seen, holy shit. His dick actually twitches, and it hurts a little.
He's still breathing shakily and he doesn't know what's supposed to happen now. Ryan is still holding on to him, one hand on Spencer's hip and the other on his thigh. Spencer flexes his fingers against Ryan's shoulders and tries to think of something to say. Ryan is just sprawled lazily under him, like he's waiting for Spencer to do something. He blinks up at Spencer, and his eyes are dark and hazy.
Spencer just stares at Ryan's mouth. It's red and swollen and all Spencer can think is I did that. He licks his lips, wants to kiss Ryan again, badly. But he doesn't, because what the hell?
"What. What is this?" The words come out breathless.
Ryan raises an eyebrow. "What do you want it to be?" It's such a stupid, cheesy movie line that Spencer should laugh, but he can't. Because he doesn't know what he wants. Or, well, maybe he kind of does, but he doesn't know how to say it.
He swallows and licks his lips again and finally just says, "Fuck," and starts to climb off Ryan's lap.
Ryan reaches for him, pulls Spencer back and holds on tighter. "Hey, stop. Say something."
"I don't know." Because Spencer can't lie to Ryan, he's never been able to.
Ryan gets that hurt look in his eyes again. "You don't know?"
"I want this, I guess? But I just don't…" Because Spencer can't want something if he doesn't know what it is. He doesn't even know what Ryan wants, for fuck's sake. And Ryan isn't volunteering, he's just asking questions.
So Spencer looks down at Ryan's chest and whispers, "What do you want?"
Ryan says, "Hey, hey." He tilts Spencer's head up and kisses him, which is nice, but not an answer. Spencer pulls out of the kiss and shakes his head, glaring as he untangles himself from Ryan and goes upstairs to his room. He can't deal with this if Ryan isn't willing to talk to him. Ryan can't keep asking questions of he doesn't want to answer some himself.
Spencer gets in a good thirty seconds of lying on his stomach, face buried in his pillow, before he hears the door open and Ryan says, "Spence? I'm sorry."
Spencer sighs. He's sulking, dammit.
Ryan comes and sits on the bed, close enough that his hip presses into Spencer's side. He puts his hand on Spencer's back and rubs in tiny, uncertain circles. "You're my best friend."
Which is nice, sure, but Spencer wasn't asking Ryan to state the obvious. He thinks that Ryan really needs to stop helping, he's just making it worse.
Thankfully, he goes silent and rubs at Spencer's back for a moment before he says, softly, "I don't know what we're doing, either."
Which is better, but. Spencer rolls over onto his back and looks up at Ryan. "You're not embarrassed about it, are you?"
Ryan looks surprised at the question. "No. Dude, no."
Spencer nods slowly. "Me either."
"I just don't know what happens now." Spencer isn't used to hearing Ryan sound so unsure. Ryan likes to act like he always knows what he's doing. But now he sounds shaky and a little scared.
"We could just…find out? What this is?" Spencer says. It's sappy and girly and he hates himself instantly.
Ryan doesn't say anything for a long moment, and finally Spencer just looks away, toward the wall, holding his shoulders stiff and straight. "Never mind, forget it."
Ryan says, "No, no. I just. Do you really want that?" Like he thinks Spencer just said it to make Ryan feel better. And, god, he should know Spencer better than that. Spencer doesn't answer, and after a few seconds Ryan stretches out on the bed beside him. He drapes his arm over Spencer's waist and pushes his forehead into the back of Spencer's neck.
Spencer gasps and doesn't move at first. He hates that what would have been a normal, comfortable touch two days ago feels weird and awkward now.
He says, quietly, "I do want that." Because he does, he does. Not that it doesn't scare the shit out him - what if it goes horribly wrong? What if Ryan never talks to him again? Spencer would die inside.
But, at the same time, what if they just ignore it and everything gets even more awkward and more strained until they can't take it and it drives Ryan away? That would be even worse.
Spencer rolls over so that he's face-to-face with Ryan. He can feel Ryan's breath against his chin.
"Really?" Ryan asks, like he expects Spencer to run away again at any second.
Spencer sighs in exasperation and a little bit of nervousness. "Yeah, really. Stop fucking repeating me." And then he leans in and kisses Ryan very, very slowly, holding his breath when their lips meet.
Ryan kisses him back, and it's slow and sweet and everything Spencer has always thought first kisses should be. Not that this is their first kiss, that was wet and messy downstairs, but this feels like a beginning. Spencer concentrates on the kissing, learning how to fit his mouth over Ryan's and how to slide their tongues together, how to taste.
It's nice, kissing Ryan without the desperate need to get off nownownow. He can touch Ryan's face and curl his fingers in Ryan's shirt and just hold on. But he's still wrecked and sleepy from the whole double orgasm thing downstairs, and after a second Spencer breaks off the kiss to yawn.
Ryan yawns, too, and kisses him one more time. Spencer murmurs, "Sorry, just." And he's suddenly so drowsy that he can barely keep his eyes open.
Ryan mumbles, "We're kind of gross, dude," but the words fade out as his head drops onto Spencer's shoulder.
"Shower will be there later," Spencer points out. Ryan is already mostly asleep.
He finally falls asleep, too, and they don't wake up until they hear Spencer's parents and sisters come home. And then they stumble over each other, trying to get up and change clothes before Spencer's mom comes up to check on them.
They tangle up and almost trip, and Ryan steadies them. He guides Spencer up against the dresser and kisses him warmly. Spencer thinks this might actually be okay.
Really okay.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Page 1 of 2