
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/133800.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Panic_At_The_Disco, Bandom
  Relationship:
      Ryan_Ross/Spencer_Smith
  Character:
      Ryan_Ross, Spencer_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      Coming_of_Age, Unrequited_Love, Friends_to_Lovers, High_School, Sexual
      Experimentation
  Series:
      Part 1 of Dreaming_to_the_Twilight
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-11-17 Words: 2041
****** Dreaming to the Twilight ******
by Sena
Summary
     Spencer sometimes makes out with his best friend. It's not like it's
     a thing, and it never goes any further than kissing. Until it does.
They make out sometimes. It's not like it's a thing. Ryan's always got one
skanky girlfriend or another, and Spencer sometimes does, though he likes his
girls prettier and cleaner than Ryan's.
But sometimes, they make out. Late at night when Ryan's staying over, he
sometimes crawls into Spencer's bed and kisses him and it never goes any
further than that, really. Spencer touches Ryan's hair and clings to his bony
shoulders, but he never lets himself even think about touching Ryan down there,
never lets himself think about Ryan touching him.
Sometimes after school when they're bored and there's nothing on TV, Ryan will
turn towards him and they'll kiss hurried and frantic with Spencer's mom just
upstairs and his sisters playing in the next room.
Sometimes they go months without it, and maybe Spencer misses it, maybe Spencer
really likes making out with Ryan, but it's Ryan. It's his best friend and he
can't feel that way about him. Not really. He knows Ryan doesn't feel that way
about him, knows Ryan's just expanding his personal boundaries or challenging
the heteronormative paradigm or something Ryan-like like that.
One week, though, Ryan's dad's on a crazy bender, one of the scariest ones
Spencer's ever seen. Ryan escapes with a split lip and a sprained wrist, but
it's a bad sprain and he can't even make his fingers hold down a single chord
on his guitar and he's angry and so withdrawn that even Spencer's not sure
he'll come out of it again.
Spencer lies awake in bed, listening to Ryan breathe. Ryan's not asleep either,
but they'd stopped talking nearly an hour ago. Finally Spencer just says what
he's wanted to since the night began, which is, "Get up here, ass face."
Ryan's breathing stops.
"Seriously. Sleeping on the floor all the time's going to give you fucking
scoliosis."
Ryan breathes out a soft laugh, and Spencer half expects a lecture on the true
causes of scoliosis, but instead of arguing, Ryan just climbs into Spencer's
bed. He's moving slowly and Spencer knows he must have bruises beneath his
clothes that he hasn't let anyone see.
Ryan stays on the very edge of the mattress, lying there stiffly until Spencer
sighs and pulls him in towards the middle of his bed. It's a twin so there's no
room for two people, really, unless they're facing and wrapped up together.
Ryan cradles his sprained left wrist against Spencer's chest and lets Spencer
hold him, breathes shakily against Spencer's shoulder.
Spencer doesn't know what to say. There really isn't anything he can say that
he hasn't said a million times before: I hate him so bad for what he does to
you. You can come live with us you know my mom would take you in. I wish you
could hate him the way I hate him and not feel guilty and just walk away.
There's nothing Spencer can say so he kisses Ryan's mouth and Ryan kisses him
back. Ryan gasps softly when Spencer's thigh settles between his legs, and
Spencer lets himself want everything he's ever made himself not want. He kisses
Ryan and strokes his hair and grinds against him, and when Ryan starts to shake
he slips his hand into Ryan's boxers and jerks him off rough and fast.
"Spence," Ryan whispers after it's over, after the two of them have stopped
shuddering and are just pressed together hot and sticky in the dark. "Spencer,
we--"
"Shhh," Spencer says. He kisses Ryan again, a hard, close-mouthed kiss to shut
up him. "It doesn't matter," he says. "It doesn't, it's just, it's us, OK? It's
just us."
Ryan nods and Spencer expects him to pull away but he doesn't, actually burrows
closer and falls asleep in the circle of Spencer's arms.
After that, they sometimes cut school and spend lazy afternoons getting naked
and jerking each other off. Ryan's brows furrow in concentration when he
strokes Spencer's cock, like it's something he has to practice and remember.
Spencer pushes Ryan off him when he gets too serious about it, kisses him and
rubs their cocks together and smiles as Ryan laughs, sated and happy, after he
comes.
"You can," Spencer says one night when his parents and sisters are out of town.
He doesn't say it out loud, but Ryan understands. His fingers tighten on
Spencer's shoulders and he says, "Yeah. I. Um. How do you, on your stomach?"
"OK," Spencer whispers. He pulls away from Ryan, stretches out on his stomach
and God, oh, God. He closes his eyes when he feels Ryan's fingers on the lowest
dip of his spine.
"We should, do you have any slick?" Ryan asks.
Spencer shakes his head, hadn't thought that far head.
"I'll, um, I'll be right back," Ryan says. Spencer wraps his arms around his
pillow and presses his face against it. He listens as Ryan leaves his room,
hears Ryan in the bathroom across the hall. Spencer keeps his eyes closed and
forces himself to breathe.
Ryan comes back less than a minute later, crawls onto the bed next to Spencer
and rubs the small of his back. "Lift up," Ryan says softly, and Spencer's not
quite sure what he's talking about. "Your hips," Ryan says after a moment.
"Lift up."
Spencer lifts his hips, feels Ryan try to slide a pillow beneath them. He
pushes up onto one elbow, helps to position the pillow, stretches out over it
with his hips canted up and his cock rubbing hard between his belly and the
sheets.
Ryan pushes his legs apart just a little bit more, slides his fingers along
Spencer's crack and God, fuck, Spencer can't believe what he's doing, can't
believe he's spread open like that and someone -- Ryan -- is actually touching
his asshole. He can't believe he's not ashamed.
"Have you ever?" Ryan asks.
"Well, I mean," says Spencer. He shakes his head. "You?"
"Not, um, not like this," he says.
"Like how, then?''
"Just. You know. Girls. But not up the...just, like, the regular way."
"Oh," says Spencer. Ryan takes his fingers away, and then Spencer gets the
thick plastic scent of Vaseline. When Ryan touches him again, his fingers are
slick. He slides one a few inches into Spencer's hole, and Spencer's toes curl
and he says, "Wait."
"Bad?" Ryan asks.
"Weird," Spencer admits. "Just. I don't know. Wiggle it, maybe?"
Ryan wiggles his finger a little bit, and that makes Spencer feel less like
he's being invaded by something he needs to push out. He takes a deep breath
and kind of feels himself relaxing, so he says, "OK. You can. I don't know.
Move it?"
Ryan pulls his finger back, then slides it in. It still feels really weird, but
there's a current of really good beneath the weird that makes Spencer's cock
twitch a little bit.
"OK?" Ryan asks, working his finger in and out of Spencer's ass in a gentle
rhythm.
"Yeah," says Spencer. "You can. I mean. I think that it'll be OK if you just."
"Yeah," says Ryan. "Yeah, OK." He takes his finger out and Spencer breathes
deeply and then feels Ryan lean over him, brace his left hand near Spencer's
shoulder as he lines his cock up with the other.
The tip of Ryan's cock is flat and broad and Spencer feels like he's spreading,
spreading, opening too far as Ryan pushes into him. He bites his lower lip and
tries to just grit his way through it. The head of Ryan's cock pops in, and
Spencer lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Are you?" Ryan asks. "I mean, is that?"
"Just," Spencer whispers. The muscles in his lower back are starting to cramp
up. "Yeah, just. Slow, OK?"
Ryan slides in bit by bit, pulls back sometimes before sliding in even further.
Every time Spencer thinks he's got to be all the way in, Ryan slides in even
more.
"Fuck, you've got a big cock," Spencer moans. He says it just as an
observation, really, but Ryan's hips stutter forward and he says, "You like
that?"
Spencer swallows hard. Apparently he just initiated sex talk, and really, he's
never felt less sexy in his entire life. His stomach and back are cramped and
his hole feels stretched and a little like it's burning and Ryan's too deep
inside him.
"Can I?" he asks. "Just. Like, a minute. Can you just stay?"
Ryan stretches out over him, bites the nape of Spencer's neck. "Yeah," he says.
He circles his hips, grinds down against Spencer's ass. It moves his cock a
little bit, but not much and it's not bad. "You're really fucking tight."
Spencer breathes deeply. It's hard to keep his breath even and slow when it
hurts like it does, but he doesn't want Ryan to know how bad it is. After
what's probably closer to five minutes than to one, Spencer says, "OK."
"Yeah?" Ryan asks, kissing Spencer's jaw just below his ear.
"Yeah."
Ryan pushes up onto his hands and Spencer sort of misses the weight and the
heat of Ryan against his back. Ryan's hips begin to rock and Spencer bites his
lip. It hurts a little bit, but his muscles have mostly stopped cramping and he
thinks he's getting used to the stretch.
He closes his eyes and grips the sheets in his hands, tries not to think about
how many girls Ryan's fucked, tries not to think about how he learned the way
to roll his hips just right. It's not that it's stopped hurting, because it
hasn't, it's just that it's also starting to feel good. Every time Ryan's cock
slides, in Spencer kind of wants to cry because it feels so perfect.
"Please," he whispers. He doesn't even know what he's asking for. His entire
body is starting to tingle, his mind slipping away into instinct as he ruts
back against Ryan. "Please, Ryan, God."
"Shhh," Ryan murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of Spencer's spine.
"Please," Spencer gasps.
"It's OK," Ryan tells him. "I got you, Spence. I got you. Feel so good."
Spencer's cock is getting hard again, and he works a hand beneath himself so he
can fuck against that instead of the sheets. Above him Ryan is panting and
shuddering, bites at Spencer's shoulder and says, "I can't, I need to."
"Do it," Spencer tells him. "Want you to."
Ryan drops his head down, starts jerking his hips harder and faster. The tiny
jabs of pain make Spencer's toes curl, make it that much better. Then Ryan
cries out and Spencer can feel it, can actually feel Ryan's come spurting
inside him. It's so fucking dirty and so fucking hot, and he muffles his cries
in the pillow as he jerks his own hips and comes over the sheets and his belly
and his hand.
Ryan doesn't say anything, just presses a kiss to Spencer's temple and pulls
out slowly. Spencer grimaces and rolls onto his back.
"Jesus, Spence," Ryan whispers.
Spencer closes his eyes. He can't look at Ryan, can't see what's he probably
sure is uncertainty or pity in Ryan's eyes.
"Jesus, that was," Ryan says. He slips his hand between Spencer's legs and
Spencer's so exhausted and boneless that he can't even twist away when Ryan's
fingers find his stretched, used hole and dip inside. He takes Spencer's hand,
then, guides it down. "Feel that," he says. "Fuck, looks so fucking hot,
Spence."
Spencer's fingers slide across the puffy, swollen skin of his ass. He damp and
sticky and he knows half of it is the lube and half of it is Ryan's come
leaking out of him, and he feels so dirty and so good and sort of in awe of
what they just did.
"Hey," says Ryan. He kisses Spencer gently on the mouth. "Hey, what, are you?
Are you OK?"
Spencer's shaking but he doesn't know how to stop it. He nods. "I'm fine."
Ryan doesn't believe him, he can tell, but he doesn't argue, either. He says,
"Come here," and even though they're both sticky and too hot, Spencer rolls
into Ryan's arms and lets Ryan kiss him until he falls asleep.
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