Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/321562.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Bandom, Panic_At_The_Disco
  Relationship:
      Ryan_Ross/Spencer_Smith, Ryan_Ross/Spencer_Smith/Brendon_Urie
  Character:
      Spencer_Smith, Ryan_Ross, Brendon_Urie
  Additional Tags:
      Size_Kink, Cock_Worship, Virginity, Threesome_-_M/M/M
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-01-16 Words: 5838
****** Friends with Assets ******
by la_dissonance
Summary
     unbeta'd bb panic ot3 cockhungry bottom spencer porn with too many
     italics! because of reasons.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Spencer makes the rule about no jerking off while thinking about his friends on
the van ride to Maryland. This is how it's going to be from now on, he thinks
with a swell of something like pride as he gently removes a napping Ryan's
elbow from his kidney for the fifth time in a row. He should have always had
the rule, really, shouldn't have let himself get to the point where jerking off
to his friends was something he had to stop doing, but he couldn't keep doing
it, not with them all living all cramped together in the same 20-square-foot
space all day.
Jerking off to his friends hadn't been something Spencer ever meant to do, so
he doesn't feel like it's entirely his fault that it happened. It had been
cocks when he'd started out, cocks and then hands too, once he'd found out how
hot it was in porn when the guy held the girl down. Just anonymous cocks, hot
and thick and hard, so hard just for him. By the time he got to imagining the
hands (maybe jerking off the cocks, maybe reaching out to grab him closer or
push him down) he was already most of the way to jizzing all over his own
hands, so the fantasy stayed safe and short and un-elaborate for a long time.
One time, though - and Spencer can remember exactly when, to his everlasting
shame - the fantasy cocks didn't stay anonymous, they morphed into a fantasy
cock with Ryan attached to it, which was an entirely unreasonable thing for his
brain to do when all he'd been thinking was how quiet he'd have to stay if he
didn't want Ryan to hear him from the airbed on the floor. That was not an
invitation for Ryan's face and hands and stupid fucking bored drawl to insert
themselves into his mental porno, except for how now they are, and Spencer was
instantly teetering on the edge of orgasm, even though a few seconds ago he had
been miles away. Spencer tried to push the images away, but mostly he was
concerned about Ryan not hearing him, and suddenly he was imagining what would
happen if Ryan did hear him, if he woke up and crawled onto the bed and saw
what Spencer was doing. Ryan's dick - Spencer has never seen Ryan's dick hard,
but he's seen enough to be able to imagine how it would dwarf Ryan's slender
fingers when he pulled it out of his loose pajama pants, straddling Spencer's
hips and just, fucking like - stroking himself, coming in long spurts all over
Spencer's chest.
Spencer came harder than he ever had in his entire life. Ryan stayed soundly
asleep.
Due to the amount of not being able to look at Ryan's anything without turning
bright red Spencer had experienced the next morning, he had quickly banned
himself from ever rehashing that particular fantasy. The ban lasted all of 48
hours, until Spencer decided that the best orgasms of his life totally
outweighed a little awkwardness as long as he didn't actually have to wake up
next to Ryan's face the next morning.
The thing is, now he's never not waking up right next to Ryan now, so Spencer's
existing in a state of continual sexual frustration. He tries going back to the
anonymous cocks, the anonymous men touching themselves and wanting him, but it
takes him longer to get himself off now than it did when he was 13, and more
often than not he ends up getting bored. Or breaking his rule and thinking
about Ryan and Ryan's fucking gigantic dick (so small in his hands, he can just
barely cover it with two fists), and how it would look if Ryan touched it in
front of Spencer, if he let Spencer touch it for him. Usually this is the point
where Spencer loses it and just keeps the image on repeat until he comes his
brains out, and he knows he shouldn't objectively feel bad about it - it's
nothing actually filthy, and it's not like you're responsible for what your
brain comes up with while you're masturbating - but it's Ryan, Ryan who
obsesses over girls and multisyllabic lyrics and his livejournal friend count,
and Spencer can't help but feel like he's taking advantage every time.
The thing with Brendon doesn't start until much later, until after Spencer's
seen the gay porn and figured out he's into dudes, would like to be with a dude
even though that seems eternally unlikely given the state of his social life,
would like to come into close personal contact with a dude's cock and be
personally responsible for making him come. He would like to be personally
responsible for making Brendon come, at least, and he has no reservations about
visualize it in cinematic detail whenever he he has a spare half hour alone.
It's not like actual Brendon would ever let Spencer near his dick, and anyway,
it's easy to put fantasy Brendon out of his mind by the time band practice
rolls around every week.
Or well, not that he never has sexual thoughts about Brendon when they're
hanging out, but Spencer's had a lot of practice in the sort of mental
gymnastics necessary to keep real life Brendon who digs his cold toes under
Spencer's thigh on movie nights and breaths popcorn breath into his face
separate from imaginary Brendon who whimpers and squirms and makes little
noises while Spencer imaginarily goes down on him. The Brendon in Spencer's
mind is beautiful when he's got a mouth around his cock. He tugs on Spencer's
hair just right, and he can never stop himself from thrusting into Spencer's
mouth just before he comes, and Spencer's pretty sure it would be perfect.
--
When they get to Maryland, out of the van into actual bedrooms and actual
privacy, Spencer's pretty sure he's going to break his new rule within days, if
not hours. It doesn't end up happening, though, and then with all the tension
between Ryan and Brendon in the studio it doesn't seem right to think about
them that way. Spencer's honestly not even sure their fictional selves would
cooperate right now while they're so busy hating each other. He slightly hates
both of their guts.
It becomes one of those rules that's graduated from rule to habit, but the end
of recording. Spencer has a rule about never wearing any one pair of socks more
than two times in a row, but it's not like he spends a ton of time thinking
about it. Serial re-wearing socks is just weird and gross and not something he
does, even if it would occasionally be convenient. That's what flip flops are
for.
--
The next time the rule even becomes relevant isn't until they're on tour with
The Academy Is, recording safely behind them and their name getting bigger at
seemingly every time they stepped on stage. Spencer's pretty much resigned
himself to never ever getting laid while he's still making a living off of
music - getting to know a perfect stranger enough to allow them access to your
penis is hard work, and what with touring and never being in the same place for
more than two nights in a row, tops.
It's much easier to slip away and go to the classy-but-not-snooty sex toy shop
Spencer had spent two weeks on google to find. It's not so easy to buy the
second-largest dildo they have in stock and not think about Ryan and his huge
fucking dick, but Spencer manages. There are plenty of people with large cocks
in the world; Ryan isn't nearly as special as he'd like to think he is.
Things don't even go downhill when Spencer tries out his newly-acquired sex toy
for the first time - things are awesome, in fact; Spencer ends up liking things
up his ass just as much as the 340863 hours of porn he'd watched on the subject
led him to believe he would - but it is possible he gets a bit complacent and
decides that the night after the show in Minneapolis when the bus is quiet is a
perfect time to go for a quick self-fuck. It's only been two days since the
last time, but Spencer's horny and the lingering edges of sense memory just
make him want it more. Brendon and Ryan and Brent don't exactly have other
plans, as far as Spencer knows, but they're not here right now, and in the heat
of the moment it seems perfectly reasonable to snaps his bunk curtain shut and
dig in the deepest corner of his duffel bag for suede pouch his dildo came in.
It would be nice to say he's too into it to hear when the bus door opened, too
far gone to care, but neither of these are true. Spencer's barely just
established a rhythm, and it's just starting to be good, and while he doesn't
particularly want to get walked in on, he also doesn't want to have to start
from scratch. It's best when he gets that perfect angle and that perfect amount
of lube and he can really just slam it in, all the way up to the flared base
again and again, deep thudding blows with just a tiny bit of drag on the
upstroke. When he really gets going he can feel it right down to his skeleton,
and Spencer imagines that if there was another person attached to the other end
of the cock, or fuck, even several people, he could just take it and take it,
let them fuck him right out of his mind.
He can never get there on his own, though, and especially not tonight when his
entire upper body is wiped out from playing a whole set and he can't spread out
enough in his bunk to get an angle where his forearm doesn't cramp up every few
strokes. It's frustrating more than anything, but every so often there's a tiny
spark of just right, and Spencer really, really just wants to get off.
He doesn't realize he's been making noises until the curtain is ripped back and
he's face-to-face with an annoyed-looking Ryan.
"You keep saying 'come on'," Ryan says, scowling. "Just 'come on, come on, come
on,' like do you actually need help or do we need to change the bus rules,
because it's really getting on my nerves."
Spencer's so shocked he can't form any words at all for a second, and then he
manages a strangled "Oh my god, get out, close the - close the thing, what the
fuck," and Ryan shrugs and slides the curtain shut again.
Between the shock of being interrupted and the embarrassment of it being Ryan,
Ryan seeing him like that, all sweaty and contorted pathetic with a giant fake
cock sticking half out of his ass, what's left of Spencer's boner rapidly
wilts. He wraps the dildo in a used sock and turns his ipod up as far as it
will go, falling asleep before the hot angry shame totally fades away.
--
It only dawns on him the next day that Ryan had totally offered to help, holy
fucking shit, and then that's all Spencer can think about. Ryan helping Spencer
get off. Ryan helping Spencer with his dick in Spencer's ass. Weeks and weeks
worth of wank fodder, right there.
--
It might even be worth months of dirtyhot orgasms, but Spencer never gets to
find out, because the very next hotel night, Ryan's grabbing the second keycard
out of Spencer's hands and all but herding him into the elevator and into their
room.
"I want to watch," he says, as soon as the door clicks shut behind them. "If
that's okay with you. Like a do-over."
"Fuck, Ryan," Spencer says.
Ryan's expression doesn't change, but he leans a little closer. Spencer feels
very crowded in the narrow passage between the door and the room, and very,
very turned on. "I was listening, last time," Ryan says. "I didn't mean to
surprise you, but I couldn't not see anymore. Please."
"Yeah," Spencer says. "Yeah, okay, but I get to watch you too."
"I - okay." Ryan looks a little startled, but he ruffles his hand through his
hair and walks back to the beds, says "Okay," again.
So they're apparently actually doing this. Spencer gulps and hurries to follow
Ryan.
Spencer gets out the dildo after Ryan makes a sadface at him and gives an
expectant sigh, shucks his pants off quickly before he loses his nerve, goes
through the motions of prepping himself, but most of his attention is caught up
with Ryan on the other double bed. Ryan's got his jeans unzipped and his dick
out, which just, how could he have known how hot that is to Spencer? He's
stroking slowly, a loose grip with one spindly-fingered hand, and the only
thing that keeps Spencer going is the impatient little noises he makes when
Spencer forgets to keep moving.
Hard, Ryan's even bigger than Spencer had imagined, or maybe it's just that in
person there's all this detail that Spencer's mid-coital mind couldn't come up
with on its own, the precise shape and curve of it, the shine of the pre-come
at the tip.
"Are you thinking about my dick?" Ryan asks, as Spencer wipes his lubey fingers
on the sheet and slides the dildo in.
"Um," Spencer says.
"I mean," Ryan clarifies, "Are you imagining that thing is my dick?"
Spencer's whole body seizes up involuntarily and the dildo he's mostly gotten
used to by now suddenly feels enormous inside him. "Yes," he says, squeezing
his eyes tight shut.
"Fuck," Ryan says, and Spencer hazards to open his one eye and sees that Ryan's
got both hands on his cock now, one squeezing a tight circle around the base
and the other playing around the head. Spencer's breath is coming really short.
"Do you think I would fit? If I fucked you?"
"Yes," Spencer says again, face burning. He knows he could take Ryan, has maybe
spent a lot of time thinking about how good the stretch would be, how deep Ryan
could go without even really trying.
"Yeah?" Ryan says, hands working faster. It doesn't come out entirely like a
question.
"Yeah," Spencer agrees, feeling his whole skin prickle with embarrassment,
because, well, yeah. Now Ryan definitely knows.
"Are you a, a size queen?" Ryan asks, not sounding like he's entirely sure he's
using the right term.
Spencer's so thrown he nearly laughs aloud, but stops again when it looks like
Ryan's getting ready to pull another sadface on him. "Um. Not exclusively?"
"So you... don't like big dicks?"
"I dunno. It's mostly like -" Spencer breaks off. Even in the anonymous cock
fantasies, it's never about the size of the cocks, it's about what they can do,
why they're there (for Spencer, always just for Spencer). "I like yours," he
settles on.
"Fuck, Spence," Ryan says, and then there's not much talking after that.
--
After that, the no-bandmates-in-fantasies rule seems sort of silly and
pointless, so Spencer ignores it. It's not forever, he tells himself, just
until this...weirdness...with Ryan blows over. He knows Ryan listens to him
jerking off in the bunks at night, which has got to count as consent to
reciprocally perv out on him.
Brendon is more of a moral gray area, but now that Ryan has introduced the
question of cock size as an objective determinant of interest, Spencer's
finding it hard to stop his eyes from drifting to Brendon's crotch at pretty
much every opportunity. It's just - they all make the jokes about Brendon's
dick, okay, but maybe he's never really allowed himself to consider what that
means before now. He wonders what it would be like hard, a dick so small you
can barely even see the shape of it when Brendon's wearing his thinnest sleep
pants. Not that Spencer's spent a lot of time looking. Would he be able to
cover it with one hand? Could he make a fist and let Brendon fuck up into it,
the head barely popping out it other side?
It would be so easy, Spencer thinks, to get him off. Blowing someone like Ryan
would take skill, skill Spencer is frankly not sure he wants to learn on the
fly, but Brendon - Spencer thinks he could basically try anything he wants on
Brendon, and it would be good for him. Even if he was a little bit distracted,
say by Ryan's dick in his ass, he's pretty sure he could manage to not mess up
a Brendon blowjob.
Not that that would ever be necessary. But hypothetically speaking, Spencer's
pretty sure he could quickly become an excellent Brendon-orgasm-giver.
"Dude, you're doing it again," Ryan says one night when Brendon's getting drunk
on the TAI bus and there's an early enough bus call that Spencer and Ryan
figured it would be easiest to just stick with him.
"Doing what," Spencer says, fiddling with the tab on his can of coke.
"Staring at Brendon's package," Ryan says. "You do it all the time. Dude, whoa,
is that your thing? Are you like the opposite of a size -"
"Oh my god shut up," Spencer says, muffling Ryan's mouth with his hand for good
measure. They're not in the end of the bus nearest the mini-fridge and no one's
really paying any attention to them, but still. Spencer does not need his name
to be associated with the phrase "size queen" ever.
"But you know, the thing I was talking about before," Ryan says from under
Spencer's hand. "Did I get it all wrong?"
"No," Spencer says. "Not...ugh, I don't know, it's just like I can't stop
thinking how easy it would be, right?"
"Brendon is very easy," Ryan points out.
"Shut up, you know what I mean. How many girls have ever deep throated you?"
Ryan raises a single eyebrow and coughs pointedly into his fist.
"See? And with someone like Brendon, you could just fucking go for it, just, no
prep or anything. It's kind of messed up how people aren't all over that,
because what, being really careful about not accidentally suffocating is sexy?
Sorry," he adds.
Ryan shrugs, a resigned what can you do. "So you have this great big social
justice crusade against cock sizeism, or you just really want to stuff
Brendon's tiny dick in all your orifices at a moment's notice?"
Spencer looks at Ryan aghast. "That is the least sexy thing I've ever heard you
say. Orifices, seriously?"
"You didn't say you didn't want to."
"I sort of do?" Spencer can feel his cheeks heating up. "But like, I couldn't
ever tell him that, there is no good way to say that to somebody's face."
"Hmm." Ryan smiles mysteriously.
"Plus he's into girls, not weird obsessive dudes, so it doesn't even matter.
Stop whatever you're thinking about right now."
Ryan, infuriatingly, just smiles a little wider.
--
The tour seems to drag on forever, but at long last it's done and they're on a
plane headed to Nevada. Ryan has listened to Spencer jerk off no less than
fifteen times without asking to watch or offering to help out, and Spencer's
starting to think he imagined both of those times. Specer has a very vivid
imagination that clearly hates his life, it's not outside the realm of
possibility. In the last few days, Brendon's started giving him weird sidelong
looks too, almost calculating, which would be more alarming if the biggest
concern on Spencer's mind wasn't finally FINALLY getting to a place where he
had clean clothes.
Spencer gets a solid 18 hours of creepy-bandmate-free time before Ryan's
showing up at his door, practically forcing flip-flops onto Spencer's feet and
demanding they go out for brunch. It's 2:30 pm on a Tuesday, but Spencer just
woke up so he's not inclined to object.
They head across town toward Brendon's place when they're done, not back to
Spencer's, and Spencer gives Ryan a questioning look.
"What, I miss my lead singer," Ryan says, which is such obvious bullshit
Spencer just snorts.
"We brought you pancakes!" Ryan says when Brendon opens the door to his
apartment.
"And a veggie burger since they didn't have that fake bacon stuff this time,"
Spencer adds, holding up the paper bag to demonstrate.
"Oooo," Brendon says, making grabby hands toward it. It looks like he just got
out of the shower, because his hair's still wet and curling around his ears,
and he's wearing nothing but a towel. Spencer very chivalrously keeps his eyes
above the line of the towel on Brendon's hips.
"So I had a thought," Ryan says, once Brendon's mostly through devouring his
bag of takeout.
Brendon makes a half-interested sound, mouth full. Ryan patiently waits until
he's done chewing, then moves the empty food containers to the very edge of the
futon where they're all sitting and flows, catlike, into Brendon's space.
"I was thinking that we should both fuck Spencer," Ryan says right next to his
ear.
Spencer is instantly achingly hard, even though what the fuck. He feels very
lightheaded. "What the fuck," he croaks, at the same time as Brendon looks over
at him with dark eyes and goes "Oh."
"Yeah," Ryan says into Brendon's ear, but he's looking Spencer in the eye.
Spencer swallows. "Do you want to watch while I get him ready?"
Brendon nods. Spencer is pretty sure he might die of boner. Ryan smiles that
mysterious smile, and shit, this is what that meant. The little shit's been
orchestrating this all all along.
"How long have you," Spencer starts, but his voice is about 95% gone right now
and it comes out mostly like an embarrassed squeak.
Ryan peels off his own shirt and does that cat-crawl thing over to where
Spencer's sitting crosslegged in the corner. "A while. You want?" he asks,
sliding his fingers under the hem of Spencer's shirt.
Spencer shivers, then nods, not trusting his voice. In the other corner,
Brendon is watching the pair of them with wide eyes.
Ryan takes off Spencer's shirt, then his own pants, then Spencer's pants, all
with such meticulous care that Spencer feels like screaming.
"For fuck's sake, Ryan," he says when Ryan starts to fold up his boxers. He is
on the bed naked here, about to have real, actual sex, and Ryan is folding
laundry. Spencer catches Brendon's eye and he makes an urgent little growl of
agreement, an unsubtle get on with it that Ryan placidly ignores. Then Brendon
shifts and Spencer's eyes fall to his lap as if drawn by a magnet, and fuck,
he's hard too, tenting the towel much less than Spencer would have, but still
obviously there. Spencer wonders if that's as big as he gets, then meets
Brendon's gaze for a second and blushes hard.
"You have lube?" Ryan directs the question to Brendon, and Brendon crawls to
the side of the mattress and rummages in the detritus next to his TV until he
comes up with a tube of KY.
Ryan rolls pushes Spencer down onto his back with hand on his shoulder, a brief
slide of skin as their bodies are pressed together, and then he's gone again,
crouching between Spencer's legs. His fingers hit Spencer's hole a minute
later, cold and slick, a quick one-two press that has Spencer arching off the
bed and shouting out. It burns, it's cold and it burns and it's good, and when
Ryan has to put his free hand on Spencer's hip to keep him from fucking himself
down onto Ryan's fingers before he's ready, Spencer nearly comes right there.
"Do you want Brendon to hold you still?" Ryan asks, including them both in the
question.
Spencer whimpers a "fuck," and Brendon takes this as the holy shit yes please
that it is and clambers up onto him, blanketing Spencer's torso with his body
and shoving his face right into Spencer's face.
"Hi," he says, and promptly sticks his tongue down Spencer's throat. There's
corner of the towel stuck between them, but mostly it's just a lot of skin, and
hot heavy Brendon weight pressing him into the mattress, and Brendon's hands in
his hair and Brendon's teeth on his lips.
"Hey, legs," Ryan grumbles, presumably to Brendon, because Brendon's weight
shifts a little bit and then Ryan's fingers are back in Spencer's ass. Spencer
loses track of how long he spends making out with Brendon while Ryan fingers
him open, but by the time he hears a condom wrapper crackle open all his nerve
endings are on fire.
Spencer maybe keens a little when Brendon climbs off him, but then Ryan's
digging his fingers into Spencer's hip, urging him to turn over. There's some
hold up after Spencer manages to get up on his knees, and the impatience and
relative lack of sensation clear Spencer's head a little bit.
"Can I?" he asks, fingers inching toward the towel that is still partially
clinging to Brendon's waist through some mysterious and possibly evil
mechanism.
"Mmgng," Brendon says, and helpfully arches his hips toward Spencer.
Spencer tugs the towel aside, and then he can't help it, his hand is on
Brendon's dick. It's just exactly palm-sized for someone with wide palms like
Spencer's, and it's hard as fuck and velvety smooth. He strokes lightly with
two fingers and wraps his hand around the head and Brendon makes a high,
breathy noise and pushes up into Spencer's grasp.
"Fuck," Spencer says, and then he involuntarily squeezes hard enough to make
Brendon yelp in pain when Ryan's cock nudges against his entrance.
"Warning!" Spencer gasps out, trying to soothe Brendon's hard-on but mostly
just "failing because fuck, his asshole was doing the craziest things.
"Fucking you now," Ryan says, and then beings to push in, a excruciatingly slow
glide that's almost no friction and all achey stretch. Spencer idly wonders how
much lube Ryan used; possibly the whole tube of it.
"Garhgh," Spencer says, and Brendon gently removes Spencer's hand from his
dick. "'ssary," Spencer gasps, moving it down to clutch at Brendon's thigh
instead.
"How do you like it," Ryan says, right next to his ear, and and Spencer wiggles
his ass back to see if he's all the way in yet. He's not. Spencer can safely
say he's never felt this opened up before ever.
"Hard," Spencer gasps out, "But not yet, give me a minute."
"'kay," Ryan says, and starts rocking his hiops gently, working the rest of his
length in and letting Spencer acclimatize to his girth. "I think you should
tell Brendon about what you want to do to him," Ryan whispers, loud enough for
Brendon to hear.
"What?" Brendon asks. "Do you have secret designs on me, Spencer Smith?"
"Uh," Spencer says.
"The thing you were telling me about last week. What you're always thinking
about when you're perving on his tiny dick."
Spencer feels a rush of heat on his face and all the way down his spine. "Think
about blowing you," he says, forcing himself to meet Brendon's eyes. Brendon
looks extremely interested. "Not because you're small, but. Um. Sort of?" This
was a lot easier to explain when he didn't have the world's hugest dick in his
ass slowly driving him insane.
"Oh," Brendon says.
"Oh?"
"Oh, like, okay, you should definitely do that. Please blow me right now, that
would be awesome."
"You can smack him if you want," Ryan drawls from somewhere behind Spencer. The
angle shifts and Spencer just groans instead.
"Good?" Ryan's hands on his hips feel smug, somehow.
"Fucking hell, Ryan, just start fucking already," Spencer gasps.
"Not until you blow Brendon," Ryan says. "I woudln't want to distract you."
Spencer makes an impatient sound and tugs at Brendon till he shifts so he's
lying down under Spencer, and then coos happily when he finds Brendon's dick
right in his face.
Brendon gigglesnorts.
"What, I missed it," Spencer says, and then promptly buries his face in the
crease of Brendon's thigh to keep himself from saying anything else completely
humiliating. More humiliating than anything else he's said so far since they
got naked. Basically he just needs to stop talking. Brendon's crotch smells
really great, all like soap and fresh sweat and slightly older sweat in the
soft creased places, the rank tour smell not entirely faded yet. Spencer
nuzzles past the prickly short hair where it looked like Brendon had trimmed or
maybe even shaved, a couple weeks ago - and damn, suddenly Spencer wants to see
what he looks like smooth, shaved entirely so there's no resistance at all. He
noses up past Brendon's balls and licks one briefly, eliciting a soft sigh, but
he's mostly about the dick, here.
He licks up Brendon's shaft in a broad, wet stripe, exploring the flare between
the head and the shaft when he gets to it with the tip of his tongue. There's
an intriguing texture difference there, which Spencer would like to spend
approximately the rest of forever memorizing, but it apparently feels really
good too, if the way Brendon is biting his lip and breathing really hard is
anything to go by.
"Fuck, Spence, fucking do it," Ryan growls, jerking his hips in one short
little thrust, and Spencer lets out a low rhgngn and sucks Brendon's dick into
his mouth. Brendon babbles out a string of obsceneties and Spencer smiles
around his mouthful. He can't quite go all the way down, not so his lips hit
Brendon's groin, but he's almost there. He feels that with very little practice
he could absolutely deep-throat Brendon's entire cock. Or medium-throat.
Shallow-throat? The point is, Spencer's got almost all of Brendon's dick inside
his mouth and he managed not to choke or bite it off or anything and whatever
he's doing with the flat of his tongue is making Brendon moan continuously, and
Spencer is not the worst blowjob-giver on the face of the planet but any means.
Right when Spencer comes up for air is just about when Ryan decides to start
fucking him in earnest, and then things get a lot blurrier in Spencer's head.
Brendon still won't let him put his hands on Brendon's dick, so he's down to
licking at the base and sucking on the head when it bobs into reach.
"Help, hey, aim it for me," Spencer gets out between thrusts.
Brendon reaches down and grabs his dick, presses it against Spencer's open lips
as one of Ryan's deeper thrusts rocks him forward, and then Spencer's mouth is
full of that familiar weight again, all smooth smooth skin and bitter salty. He
sucks down till he hits Brendon's fingers, still clumsily wrapped around the
base, and then he sucks one of them into his mouth too just because he can.
Brendon shivers and yells something incoherent, and also apparently kicks Ryan
from the way everything behind Spencer jolts abruptly to the right.
"Motherfucker," Ryan says.
Spencer pulls off from Brendon's dick to say "Oh fuck, fucking yes, Ryan, right
there, don't fucking move," because, seriously, that angle right there.
Ryan, the bastard, grinds to a complete halt, and Spencer's ass clenches in
protest. "Don't move?"
"Do move," Spencer clarifies. "Move from right there, don't go anywhere else."
Ryan hums agreement and begins to fuck Spencer again, who after a minute
figures it's safe to go back to Brendon's blowjob.
It's like nothing Spencer's ever experienced before, the way Ryan just keeps
going, keeps fucking in harder the more Spencer pushes back against him. There
are sparks of pleasure swirling through his blood, but more than that he feels
like he's going into some kind of trance, like all he can hold in his mind is
the way it feels as Ryan slams into him. He's here, sandwiched between his
friends' sweaty bodies, but he's also floating somewhere, all blissed-out and
thoughtless, his whole existence narrowed to the rhythm of Ryan's hips.
At some point Brendon tries to warn Spencer that he's about to come, but
Spencer only realizes after the fact when the warm wet hits his face, missing
his eyes but dripping down his nose and mouth. Ryan's talking to him, pressing
between his shoulders, and in the next moment they've shifted around and
Brendon is on his side next to Spencer, who's face down with his head in his
folded arms.
"'m so close, Spence," Ryan says. "How hard can you take it?"
"So hard," Spencer mumbles, and Brendon repeats this back.
Spencer can't quite make sense of it when Ryan slows down instead, the barest
drag in and out, until he starts talking again.
"What did you think about, all those times you jerked yourself off in the bunk
right above me?" Ryan's voice is steely with effort, and all Spencer can think
is that if he's going to come he should come; Spencer wants to keep getting
fucked forever but he also wants to feel that, to know what it's like.
"Tell us, Spence," Ryan urges, and it takes Spencer a minute to remember what
the question had been. His chest feels strange, all fluttery and tight and good
but maybe also bad, right on the edge of doing something.
"Spence," Ryan says, and suddenly Spencer's chest lets go and he's shuddering
out huge breaths, can feel hot tears sliding down the sides of his face.
"This," he says, grabbing blindly for Brendon, "you. Like this." He can't stop
crying for some reason, and he's still teetering right on the edge of some
knife-edge intensity, and he just needs Ryan to tip him over.
"Fuck," Ryan says, and his fingertips dig into Spencer's hips, ten sharp points
of future bruise, and he snaps his hips forward, hard, just slams into
Spencer's body over and over and Spencer can feel every tight thing inside him
spiraling free. When he comes it's almost an afterthought, his dick untouched
between his legs. From somewhere near his ear, Brendon whines appreciatively.
Ryan's hips come to rest against Spencer's ass one last time and then he's
shaking out his own release, tiny little quivers of his legs that Spencer can
feel through his whole oversensitized body. Spencer keens when Ryan pulls out,
so carefully, and then he's collapsing on Spencer's other side and scooping him
back against his chest, tugging at Brendon's arms to pull him closer too.
"I just need," Spencer says, and Ryan says "Shhh, rest for now," and kisses the
side of his face near the corner of his eye where it's still wet.
"I want another blowjob," Brendon says, and Spencer can feel Ryan trying to
kick at his feet between Spencer's own.
Spencer smiles. "M gonna give you so many blowjobs."
The bed shakes, and he's not sure, but it might be Brendon doing a spontaneous
fistpump.
Ryan's chest rumbles, and Spencer snuggles closer to him. Rest for now.
End Notes
     Content note: the underage is just the implied sexual thoughts of a
     young minor; no sexual activity occurs until all characters are above
     the age of consent. IF THAT MAKES A DIFFERENCE TO YOU IDK.
     Inspired by this prompt on lalejandra's cockhungry spencer meme:
     http://lalejandra.dreamwidth.org/
     197846.html?thread=3655638#cmt3655638
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!