Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/86256.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Bandom
  Relationship:
      Ryan_Ross/Spencer_Smith/Brendon_Urie
  Additional Tags:
      Humor, First_Time
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-05-12 Words: 4287
****** Bad Romance ******
by fictionalaspect
Summary
     Brendon tells Spencer his theory about the uselessness of punch-tabs
     on plastic cup tops. Spencer is not impressed. "Please don't tell me
     that's why you're all," Spencer says, waving his hand to indicate the
     general partitive state of Brendon's being. Uncoalesced, maybe. It's
     a neat word. Brendon's maybe a little spatially dislocated right now.
     "Are you saying I'm uncoalesced?" Brendon asks.
     "I'm saying you're a fucking weirdo," Spencer says.
Notes
     For
     [[info]]
ailleann23. [[info]]boweryd and [[info]]anoneknewmoose remain, as ever, my
partners in crime.
It wasn't like Brendon had asked for it, or anything.
Ryan had just cracked a joke and Brendon had said yeah, I wouldn't know because
he didn't get around as much as Ryan did (and thank god he hadn't said that one
out loud, because it wasn't like Ryan was--whatever. The thought felt dull, and
a little mean, and so Brendon kept his mouth shut) and then they hadn't been
playing in tandem any more, Brendon's chords ringing out loud and sharp and
singular in the late afternoon silence.
"What--" Brendon said, looking up, and Ryan was staring at him with barely
disguised fascination.
"Never?" Ryan said, and Brendon shook his head, because uh, no, never.
"Oh," Ryan said, and set his guitar down on the bed, climbed over it carefully
and arranged his knees on either side of Brendon's lap and kissed him, full on
the mouth.
--
So, that was new.
--
Brendon starts to think that something's up when Spencer picks him up after
school. They wander around the mall and drop things in the fountains and it
feels suspiciously like when Spencer's trying to take care of Ryan, except as
far as Brendon's aware, he's not having a personal crisis and doesn't need
Spencer's sympathy.
(Or like, maybe he is. Maybe kissing Ryan had been kind of awesome and
depressing at the same time, because Brendon had been hoping against hope that
he would hate it, and.
He didn't. So.)
"You're wrangling me," Brendon accuses, after Spencer suddenly develops an
intense need for milkshakes. "Whatever Ryan told you, I deny everything."
"Ryan was supposed to tell me something?" Spencer says, sucking on his straw
obnoxiously. Milkshake seeps out the top of the straw-hole and pools in the
punch-tabs that no one ever actually uses, because who the fuck has time to
poke those stupid things down? Except Brendon does it when he's bored at work,
but that doesn't count.
Brendon tells Spencer his theory about the uselessness of punch-tabs on plastic
cup tops. Spencer is not impressed. "Please don't tell me that's why you're
all," Spencer says, waving his hand to indicate the general partitive state of
Brendon's being. Uncoalesced, maybe. It's a neat word. Brendon's maybe a little
spatially dislocated right now.
"Are you saying I'm uncoalesced?" Brendon asks.
"I'm saying you're a fucking weirdo," Spencer says.
--
It makes more sense, though, when Spencer tells him they should probably just
make out.
"But I," Brendon says, and then closes his mouth when he realizes he was going
to say that he made out with Ryan, because it's not like Ryan has a claim on
him, or anything. It's not like they're dating.
(He thinks.)
"It's for science," Spencer says, and shifts a little closer on the couch.
"Ryan told you," Brendon says flatly, because there is no way that Spencer just
independently assumed that fact. "What the fuck, he said he wouldn't--"
"He said he helped you out a little," Spencer says. "I just, didn't know if,
like. You needed more help."
"I'm not the band's charity case, thanks," Brendon says, even if he sort of
does want to know how Spencer kisses, even if Spencer has nice hands and soft
hair and his voice gets all throaty after he falls asleep on the couch during
their late-night movie marathons.
"You're really not," Spencer says, and kisses Brendon. Brendon has a split
second of indecision where his pride wars with his libido, and then Brendon
tells his pride to go fuck itself. Spencer tugs him up and over, until
Brendon's basically straddling him, and it's--good.
It's really, really good.
--
So Brendon's gone from super-virgin, okay, he's gone from super-virgin to
hooking up with one-half of his band in the space of a week and it's a little
weird but mostly Brendon just finds himself swaggering at odd moments. He
shouldn't be swaggering because it's not like it happened because of his smooth
moves, or anything, but he still feels like kind of a badass. He is closer to
getting laid than he has ever been before in his life, which is admittedly not
that close, but Brendon's pretty sure Spencer got hard when they were making
out, and that's something.
(Brendon's just conveniently overlooking the fact that everyone in his band is
a dude. Happens to people all the time, right? Right.)
Or at least, he's feeling mildly swagger-y and self-intoxicated until he's
running late for practice and the door is cracked open just a bit, closed but
not shut, and Brendon pushes it open without thinking. Spencer's got his stool
kicked up against the dry-wall, legs open and Ryan on top of them, feet firmly
placed to keep both of them balanced. Ryan's arms are around Spencer's neck and
Spencer has one hand in Ryan's back pocket and oh, they've done this before,
Brendon can tell. Ryan rolls his hips a little and Spencer pulls him back in,
easy, practiced, and they're still kissing, they've been kissing this whole
time and Brendon just can't fucking deal, because what?
Brendon closes the door and walks fifty feet away and then calls in sick to
band practice. But not because he's jealous. Brendon isn't jealous.
Uncoalesced, maybe.
Not jealous.
--
"Pop quiz," Ryan says, and punctuates his sentence with the hiss of air
escaping from his can of Mountain Dew. He's leaning against the doorway for no
apparent reason. "Who's a better kisser, me or Spencer?"
Brendon chokes on his Sprite.
"Um," Brendon says, because Spencer is like, right there, grabbing chips from
the cupboard in the kitchen and there's no way that Brendon can answer that
fucking question without him hearing. Not that he can answer it anyway. "Dude,"
Brendon says, and Spencer comes back and drops a bag of chips in Brendon's lap
and Ryan turns to him and says "Brendon won't tell me which one of us is a
better kisser," like he's asking Spencer about the weather, or something.
"Ryan's pretty good," Spencer says, thoughtfully, to Brendon.
Brendon's entirely cornered. And he's not quite sure what to do because on the
one hand -- making out with Ryan was pretty awesome. Ryan's kind of a biter,
and Brendon didn't really know that could be hot, but he totally had a hickey
the next day and he kept touching it all day and thinking about how good it
felt and getting all distracted at school and then feeling really weird about
it because Ryan hadn't acted like it was a big deal, the two of them, but it
sort of was.
But it had been good with Spencer, too, Spencer with his soft stomach and
strong thighs and hands that stayed at Brendon's waist, thumbs smoothing over
his hipbones. It wasn't that Spencer was much bigger than him, not really, but
it was really fucking hot the way he just sort of placed Brendon where he
wanted him and kept him there.
So Brendon's kind of torn.
"I don't know?" Brendon says, and it comes out as a question. Spencer's face
falls a little, and Ryan frowns.
"You don't know, you mean, like, you... didn't like it?" Spencer presses. He
looks unreasonably disappointed by this for someone who, as far as Brendon can
tell, gets a lot of ass from his best friend. Brendon's not sure why Spencer is
so invested in his sexual exploration, or whatever.
"No!" Brendon says, and then realizes he's talking really loudly at the same
time that Ryan shushes him. "No, I mean, it was good, with both of you, I,"
Brendon says, and then rapidly loses steam. "But whatever," Brendon says.
"Because you're all--" he motions between them, somehow unwilling to say the
word "together" for no apparent reason--"and shit."
"Nah," Ryan says, at the same time that Spencer says "Yeah." They both stop and
look at each other for a second, and Brendon still kind of wishes he could do
that with someone, just raise an eyebrow and have them know what the hell he's
thinking about without him ever having to open his mouth.
"What Ryan meant," Spencer continues, after they've obviously settled...
whatever it is was they had to settle, "is that it's not like, a thing."
"It's not a thing?" Brendon says.
"It's just friend stuff," Ryan says, blithely. "You know."
"Oh, totally," Brendon says. He doesn't know at all.
"We just didn't know if you wanted to get in on that," Spencer says easily,
like he's got all the time in the world. Brendon's still stuck on the friend
thing, because that's---yeah. Okay.
Brendon's okay. He can do this.
Ryan looks over at Spencer one more time, and then he gets up and comes over to
the couch, moving slowly with one hand out, like he's trying to be non-
threatening. When he sits, that hand lands on Brendon's knee. "Yeah?" Ryan
says, and Brendon wants to ask if this is like, a some-other-time-thing or a
right-now thing but what comes out is--
"Wait, all of us?"
"Yeah. Or, just one of us, if that's what you want. Whatever you want," Spencer
says, still unconcerned, and Ryan gives him a dirty look.
"Sure, yeah, no--" Brendon says quickly, because hey, there's enough of him to
go around, or something, and Ryan gets pissy when he feels like he's being
ignored. "Whatever you guys do, I mean, I'm good with that--" Brendon says, but
he's interrupted by Ryan kissing him, sharp and sudden. So, okay. They're doing
this right now, then.
At first it's just a tangle of limbs. Brendon very nearly knees Spencer in the
balls and Ryan's legs are too long but they get it, somehow, and Brendon's in
the middle, Ryan's hands in his hair, Spencer sucking a slow bruise into the
skin on the back of Brendon's neck. He scrapes his teeth over the ridges of
Brendon's spine and Brendon feels shivery and warm and all over.
He doesn't realize Ryan's pulling away until suddenly they're not kissing
anymore. Brendon feels a split second of mostly unwarranted panic but Ryan just
pulls back and licks his lips and then Brendon feels a hand on his chin,
tugging him in towards Spencer. He has to move his whole body to turn into it,
but it's worth it. Spencer kisses slower than Ryan does, more thorough, like
he's learning every inch of Brendon and would rather not rush the process.
Brendon feels hot all over, overstimulated; there's almost too much going on
and he's having trouble processing it all. All three of them are pressed close
on the couch, and Brendon's warm and surrounded.
When Spencer finally pulls back to breathe, Ryan's right there again, catching
Brendon's mouth with his own, biting down hard on Brendon's lower lip and
pushing him back into Spencer. Spencer has a hand on Brendon's hip and one hand
in Ryan's hair; he's scratching at the base of Ryan's skull and Ryan sort of
purrs a little into Brendon's mouth and Brendon thinks again about how many
times they must have done this, sleepovers and late nights and camping out in
the backyard, Spencer's hand over Ryan's mouth so they'd stay quiet. Brendon
pulls away, breathing hard.
"I want," Brendon says, and it's sort of hard to get the words out, but he
manages. "I want to see, both of you, again--"
"Mmm," Spencer says, and doesn't argue, and then they're kissing, right over
Brendon's shoulder, close enough to touch. Ryan steadies himself with a hand on
Spencer's bicep and Brendon thinks holy shit.
Ryan pulls away after, bites at Spencer's lower lip playfully, little kitten
nips before turning back to Brendon. Brendon's mostly gotten up the courage to
put his hands on Ryan's waist when Ryan mumbles "y'wanna fuck?" into his mouth,
breathy and eager, one hand trailing down to squeeze at Brendon's dick. Spencer
has one hand covering Brendon's stomach, fingers spread, and he chooses that
moment to pull Brendon back against him, to grind his dick into Brendon's ass
and bite down hard on the curve of his shoulder and Brendon jerks in surprise
and comes in his jeans.
Spencer laughs for probably five minutes straight.
"Maybe later," Brendon says, blushing.
--
They don't fuck later, but Brendon watches Ryan go down, down, down, watches
his eyelashes flutter and his jaw work as he takes Spencer in as deep as he can
go. Ryan pats Spencer's thigh consolingly when he pulls off for a minute to
breathe, and Ryan's mouth tastes like salt under Brendon's tongue. Spencer
whines and Brendon watches as Ryan's rhythm gets sloppy and rough, watches the
way Spencer's stomach tenses and his hips buck up to meet Ryan's mouth.
"I give really good head," Ryan tells him after, smugly, licking away a trail
of come from the corner of his mouth. From behind them, Spencer makes a weak
noise of agreement.
"I don't," Brendon says, feeling like honesty is the best policy, here. "But
I'm a fast learner."
"Well then," Ryan says, and pops the button on his tight-ass girl jeans.
--
Stupid Ryan Ross and his gigantic fucking dick. Brendon's jaw is going to hurt
for days.
--
"I am actually interested in fucking you," Ryan says, two weeks later, during a
lull in band practice when it's just the two of them and Brent and Spencer have
run off to get supplies.
"Oh," Brendon says, choking and coughing on his Red Bull. He wipes the back of
his hand over his mouth and tries to focus.
"I just wanted you to know," Ryan says. He's tuning his guitar with an
expression of intense concentration.
"Thanks for that," Brendon says. "I'll keep that in mind."
"You should," Ryan says.
--
"But it's huge," Brendon says, popping a Twizzler in his mouth and pressing his
cell phone to his ear. He's pretty sure this is hands-down the strangest
conversation he's ever had at work, even if he's on break and not technically
working.
"It's not that bad," Spencer says. "Shit, motherfucker, that fucking douche
just killed my guy again."
"What if I die?" Brendon says.
"You're not going to die from Ryan sticking his dick up your ass," Spencer
says. "Oh, you cocksucking son of a bitch." Brendon can hear more explosions in
the background, and the tell-tale ding! that says that Spencer's guy just got
respawned.
"I might," Brendon says. "You don't know."
"I didn't die." Spencer says. "Take that, motherfuckers!"
"Was it good?" Brendon says, feeling his face heat, but if he's going to ask
it's going to be now, when Spencer's distracted.
"Do you need me to hold your hand when he does it?" Spencer asks, and Brendon
tells him to fuck off and hangs up.
--
Brendon's opening his big, fat mouth to tell Ryan that he's maybe rethinking
this whole "losing his virginity" plan when Ryan comes back downstairs and
tosses him a small bottle of lube. Brendon fumbles the catch.
"I think you should fuck me," Ryan says, and oh, yeah. Yeah. Brendon's okay
with that.
"Aw, you guys can bond," Spencer says, and Ryan leans over and flicks him in
between the eyes. He's watching some terrible movie on Ryan's crappy TV and
Brendon wonders if they're going to do this here and if he's going to give it
up to the melodic sounds of Daryl Hannah telling him he needs to repent to save
his soul.
Ryan's hips look even narrower when he's naked, and he's pale all over and his
skin is really soft. Brendon feels weird, just sitting there naked with a hard-
on and his dick all sticking out, but Ryan leans in and kisses him and then
leans backwards, tugging Brendon on top of him. "Oh," Brendon says, because
there's a lot of fucking skin under his hands and Ryan's rocking his hips into
Brendon's, a steady, rhythmic grind. Ryan pulls away and spits in his hand and
then reaches down to fist both of them, and Brendon has to tug his hand away so
he doesn't blow his load all over Ryan's stomach.
"Maybe you should," Ryan says, when Brendon points this out. "Take the edge
off. I'm going to be pissed if you only last ten seconds."
"Oh, fuck you," Brendon says, but he doesn't push Ryan's hand away when he
swipes his thumb over the tip of Brendon's dick, and when he reaches back down
Brendon throws his head back and ruts into the soft, sticky skin on Ryan's
stomach and comes.
--
Ryan's tight, and hot, and Brendon's fingers are really slippery.
It's not a great combination.
"You're doing it wrong," Spencer sighs, after the third annoyed noise from Ryan
and the third harried apology from Brendon. Spencer turns off the TV and rolls
over, gently shoving Brendon out from between Ryan's legs. He coats two of his
long fingers with an casual, practiced motion and Brendon thinks about how all
this time he'd thought Spencer was as lame as he was in the sex department. He
holds Ryan's legs open, a little, and pets at him before slowly sinking in, all
the way, and Brendon watches as Ryan's back arches and his mouth falls open.
"Like that," Spencer says, and starts to slowly move his finger, rubbing where
Ryan's stretched around him, slowly working him up to two and then three, until
Ryan's panting and shoving his ass back against Spencer's hand.
"Whoa," Brendon says, and bites his lip. He leans over and kisses Ryan, because
he doesn't know what else to do, and Ryan bites at his lips and growls a little
into his mouth. "C'mon, now," Ryan says, and Brendon swallows and nods. Spencer
moves over and takes his dick out, leaning back against the arm of the fold-out
couch to watch, and Brendon ignores him when Spencer asks if he needs
directions. He's pretty sure he knows where his dick needs to go, thanks.
Brendon doesn't remember that much of the actual sex, only that it feels better
than anything he's ever felt in his life and Ryan wraps his heels around
Brendon's waist and tilts his hips up and moans. Brendon's pretty sure this is
what heaven feels like, and he makes a lot of stupid noises, little "unh, unh,
unh's" that keep spilling out of his mouth no matter how he tries to stop them.
At some point Spencer helpfully leans over and gives Ryan a hand, and when Ryan
comes it gets everywhere, all over his stomach and Brendon's stomach and his
chest and Brendon's chest. It's warm and hot and slippery on Brendon's skin and
Ryan clenches around him and Brendon comes harder than he ever has in his life.
"That was hot," Spencer says, when Brendon's still pressing his face into
Ryan's bony shoulder and waiting for his brain to settle.
"I'm glad you approve," Ryan mumbles, and clumsily pats at Brendon's ass, like
he's congratulating him for a job well done.
--
"We should do something exciting," Ryan says, thoughtfully, and Brendon wiggles
his ass helpfully because he's feeling a little exposed here and because hey,
what, he's not exciting?
"Don't worry," Spencer says, and strokes one sticky finger in between Brendon's
cheeks. It's really cold. "We're not going to forget about you."
"Oh, thanks," Brendon says, "that's really reassur--mmmph," he says, because
Ryan's sticking his long fingers in Brendon's mouth. Ryan raises an eyebrow at
Brendon and Brendon raises one right back and it's then that Spencer really
pushes his fingers in. It feels good and it kind of hurts and Brendon can't
decide whether he wants to push away or he wants more. He breathes wetly around
Ryan's fingers in his mouth, trying not to tense.
"Suck," Ryan says, and Brendon does.
--
Thank god it's Spencer, because this shit hurts and Brendon can feel everything
in him stretching and pulling and god, he's so full.
"Shhh," Spencer murmurs, and rubs at the small of his back, and it's nice, it's
weirdly comforting, even if it feels like Brendon is sort of being impaled.
"Ow," Brendon says, and mostly he's just thinking that Ryan's a sicker fuck
than he realized if he gets off on this when Spencer moves and shifts,
something, and oh, oh.
"That's good," Brendon manages to get out, "That's good, that, keep doing, yes-
-"
"I know," Spencer says. "I have done this before, thanks."
"Uh-huh," Brendon says, because it's all he can do to lean back into Spencer's
slow, careful thrusts and it feels like his spine is melting.
"Wait," Ryan says,and shuffles forward so he's sitting up against the
headboard, tucked in between Brendon and the wall. He presses his thumb into
Brendon's lips, trying to open up his jaw, and Brendon shakes his head and
grunts.
"No," Brendon says, because he's kind of distracted and he really will choke on
Ryan's dick if he has to think about more than getting fucked right now.
"Can I come on your face?" Ryan says, fisting himself. He sounds curious. It
shouldn't be hot.
"Yeah," Brendon says, and Ryan's even careful enough to keep it away from his
eyes. It runs down Brendon's chin and down his neck and Brendon squeezes his
eyes shut and moans. Ryan leans down and kisses him carefully and Spencer
pushes in hard and comes. Brendon can feel Spencer's dick pulsing inside of him
and god, he needs to come. He reaches a hand down to jerk himself off and Ryan
frowns and says "No, hey," and knocks his hand away, pushing at Brendon's hip
so that when Spencer pulls out and staggers over towards the trash to throw out
the condom, Brendon ends up on his back. Ryan doesn't waste any time, just
sucks him down, one hand wrapped around the base of Brendon's dick to steady
him.
"You are really good at that," Brendon says, once he's finished coming his
brains out down Ryan's throat.
"I get no love," Spencer says, sadly, stretching out next to Brendon on the
bed. His dick is soft and sticky and Brendon pats it consolingly. "I still like
you," Brendon tells it, and Ryan coughs and laughs.
--
So now, hey, Brendon's really not a virgin, but he can't brag about it to
anyone because the only people he would really tell are Ryan and Spencer and
he's pretty sure they already know.
"I'm not a virgin," Brendon says, self-satisfied, and kicks his feet up on the
amp and crosses his arms behind his head.
"I know, I was there," Spencer says, and Brent gives him a weird look.
"He's kidding," Brendon says quickly.
"Oh, yeah," Spencer says, after a pause. "Totally kidding."
--
There's a week or two afterwards where they don't have sex, and Brendon doesn't
want to stress about it, because maybe they're just busy, but secretly he's a
little freaked that it's all over and done and he has to go back to being best
friends with his right hand. Brendon's not really looking forward to that. He
was enjoying the 'getting laid' thing.
Ryan's weird when he invites Brendon over, though, and sits too far away from
him on the couch.
"Hey," Brendon says, poking Ryan with his shoe. "Hey, come here, I want to hang
out."
"We are hanging out," Ryan says, and Brendon wants to point out that by "hang
out" he meant "have sex," in case that wasn't clear, but Ryan seems really
engrossed in America's Next Top Model and Brendon doesn't want to push his
luck.
Brendon leaves, eventually, when Ryan's dad comes home.
They don't talk about it.
--
"Okay, what the fuck," Brendon says, after the third time it's been just him
and Ryan and Spencer and they're still giving him a wider berth than the
Titanic. "What did I do, seriously," Brendon says, because if he's not
interesting anymore just because he's no longer a virgin that's kind of fucked
up and also he's going to be really bummed.
Spencer opens his mouth and Ryan kicks him. Spencer shuts his mouth and Ryan
says "Nothing."
"Bullshit," Brendon says. "Spencer, what were you going to say?"
"You didn't want Brent to know," Spencer says, and he's tossing the remote back
and forth between his hands but his jaw looks a little tense.
"So?" Brendon says, because what does Brent have to do with this?
"He knows about us," Ryan says, and Brendon pauses and lets that sink in. "He
knows you--" Brendon says, and Spencer shrugs.
"Oh," Brendon says. "But, you said it wasn't a thing."
"If we said it was a thing, you wouldn't have--" Spencer starts and Ryan
shushes him again and gives Brendon a level look. "It's fine," Ryan says
evenly. "It's okay. We knew you were just--whatever. Experimenting."
"But what if I wanted it to be a thing?" Brendon says, slowly. "Can we even do
that?"
Ryan looks at Spencer, and then back at Brendon. He licks his lips.
"Yeah, okay," Ryan says, and Brendon very decidedly does not fist-pump in
victory. Instead he shifts a little closer, so his shoulder is touching Ryan's
shoulder.
"Can I hold your hand?" Brendon asks, during the next commercial break,
blushing furiously. He shouldn't be. His dick has been in Ryan's ass.
"In public?" Ryan asks, frowning.
"No, just. Here," Brendon says. "And maybe also that too. I don't know.
Whatever you want."
Spencer stretches his leg across Ryan's lap and nudges at Brendon's knee with
his sneaker, encouraging.
"Okay," Ryan says, carefully, and Brendon links their fingers together and if
Ryan squeezes his hand during all the scary parts of the movie and especially
when that girl gets locked in the elevator shaft and drowns, well.
Brendon's not telling.
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