Fic Post: Letting Them Win
Jan. 1st, 2011 06:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
harborshoreTitle: Letting Them Win
Pairing(s): Panic GSF
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Mild s/D dynamics, hair-pulling.
Word count: 1306
Summary: Jon has no idea what his band mates are up to, but he’s beginning to think he might like it. An unauthorized sequel to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fictionalaspect’s All In.
A/N: This is forfictionalaspect, obviously, because when she posted that story I said something about how Jon Walker needs to get what’s clearly coming to him, and she told me to write it, which--I couldn’t figure out how to get it right, not then. Partly because I'm very bad at writing porn. But then I was writing her a different story in October (yeah, there are two more coming eventually, but they will be much longer, my darling, so they’re not done yet, and also they involve no cheating and riffing off of your stories) when I thought of this. It has been missing about three paragraphs for the last month, so I wrote them now. Hi. Love you and stuff.
When Jon wakes up, the bed is empty and the cabin is quiet. That’s kind of weird, but he’s not too worried: more than likely, his bandmates got up, went to eat breakfast and then fell asleep on top of each other in the living room. Like they do.
His shoulders and wrists still twinge a little; holding himself up while fucking Brendon last night had been great at the time, not letting Brendon take his weight when he so clearly wanted to, but now he’s feeling it. (Probably Brendon is too. Jon isn’t smirking, not even a little.)
They’re not in the living room.
Okay, this is a little weird. Jon frowns and walks towards the kitchen, trying to figure out where they’ll be if they aren’t in there (seriously, it’s not even ten yet, normally Ryan doesn’t get out of bed until noon at the earliest) and mentally reminding himself that they put the peanut butter on top of the fridge last night. Jon can’t remember why, but he knows that’s where it is.
They’re not in the kitchen either. Jon has a sandwich and tries to figure out where he left his phone, because maybe he can call them? While he’s thinking about that, he hears Brendon laughing, and seconds later, the three of them are tumbling into the kitchen.
They fall silent when they see him, and Ryan grins.
“You woke up, huh?”
“Woke up alone,” Jon said, and it’s not plaintive, he’s not the plaintive one in this relationship, but it makes Brendon ruffle his hair anyway.
“Sorry,” Ryan says, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He’s smirking a bit, and Jon frowns. He’s still not completely awake, or he would know why Ryan is smirking like that.
Jon’s train of thought is interrupted by Brendon tugging at his hair. “Did you sleep well, Jon Walker?”
“Sure,” Jon says.
Brendon tugs at his hair again, and Jon leans into it a little.
“Good,” says Brendon, kisses Jon on the cheek and wanders over to the coffee machine, humming below his breath. Jon isn’t disappointed that the hair-tugging wasn’t going anywhere, really, but he’s--well, okay, so he’s a little disappointed.
“I think Jon is lonely,” Spencer says. He’s still leaning against the wall, and he’s still fucking smirking, too.
“Aw, that’s too bad,” Ryan says, but he doesn’t move any closer to Jon. His expression is a match for Spencer’s at this point (Brendon and Jon once tried to come up with a name for that, the way Ryan and Spencer can slide into the same mood, but they couldn’t think of a good word for it. It’s possible they were stoned at the time), and Jon carefully doesn’t let his face show how much that makes him want to kiss Ryan. It’s no good giving your advantage away this early in the game. Because it is a game, the BFF matching thing is convincing him.
Of course, once Brendon has had coffee it all deteriorates into an impromptu song about toasters, complete with Spencer keeping the beat by tapping on the fridge and Ryan doing harmony in his own inimitable way. Jon can’t breathe for laughing, but he knows it’s not over yet.
--
He hasn’t figured it out by lunch time. Or, uh, the afternoon when they finally get sick of trying to match the lyrics Ryan has written to “a fucking melody I can sing,” as Brendon puts it before he walks out and slams the door, because Brendon sometimes needs to yell in order to keep on working. Spencer refuses to cook because he claims he did it the last eight times (which is, as Ryan points out, an “utter and complete exaggeration”--it’s more like the last six), so Jon breaks out the microwave pizzas.
While he’s staring at the box, Ryan comes up behind him. Jon doesn’t usually feel shorter than the rest of his band (on the grounds of being stronger than everyone but Spencer, and Spencer doesn’t really lord it over him most of the time), but something about the way Ryan gets close and kind of brackets him with his arms, hmm.
“What’s up?” he says, leaning back into Ryan. (Hey, no one says he minds being shorter.)
Ryan hums. “Nothing,” he says, but one hand curves around Jon’s hip, so he’s clearly lying.
“Are you starting something before dinner, Ross?” he asks, grinning.
“Nope,” Ryan says, and squeezes Jon’s hip before stepping away.
Jon shakes his head bemusedly, and goes back to figuring out the instructions.
He only burns the pizza a little bit.
Brendon proclaims it delicious, clearly over his irritation from earlier, and steals two of Spencer’s pieces. When Spencer shrugs instead of retaliating, Jon blinks.
“Seriously, you guys have been weird all day. What’s going on?”
Brendon starts to say something but he hesitates and looks over at Ryan, who shakes his head.
“Don’t worry, Jonathan,” Ryan says, “you’ll find out.”
--
Spencer pulls him out of his seat after dinner, kind of like he’s been pushing at Jon a little all day, every time Jon was in the way or whatever, except now he isn’t letting go, pulling Jon into the living room.
Jon goes, because they’re all looking and he’s, well. There’s a reason he wanted someone to come on his face when they were doing the jar thing--actually, there are several, but the part where he liked the way it made him look, that’s the part that’s pulling at him here, even as he follows Spencer’s hands so he’s facing Ryan and Brendon. Spencer’s standing behind him, fingers curved over his shoulders and scratching at his neck; Jon leans into it, he can’t help himself.
“Jon Walker,” Brendon says, coming forward to touch at Jon’s jaw. “What are we going to do with you?”
Jon bites down on the Whatever you want that threatens to emerge, because shit, shit, he’s not that gone, is he? Ryan’s sudden grin tells him his expression must have revealed some of what he was thinking anyway, goddammit. He’s way too easy for this band, it’s fucking annoying sometimes.
Spencer smothers a laugh into Jon’s neck and Jon jerks because Spencer follows it up with a scrape of his teeth over Jon’s skin. The asshole.
Ryan is still looking at him, grin smoothing out into a considering expression. “You could suck me off,” he suggests. Spencer’s hands tighten and Jon, well. He folds to his knees, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do when Ryan is looking at him like that? Spencer follows him to the floor and Jon leans into him, back to Spencer’s chest, and shivers when Spencer’s fingers creep under the hem of his t-shirt, nails scratching at his stomach.
Closing his eyes, he moans when Ryan gets his hands into his hair, pulling hard, now, nothing like Brendon’s light tugging earlier. (Sucking Ryan’s dick is actually easier when someone else is helping him out; he’s big enough that it’s easy to get distracted by that, by how hard it is to keep your mouth open and keep the beat at the same time. This, following Ryan’s hands and making sure to not let your teeth get in the way, this is easier because you can relax into it.)
Brendon makes a noise somewhere to the left of them and Jon reaches out, fumbling until he feels Brendon grab his hand. He must be kneeling, too.
“Oh, we’re going to take you apart,” he says, mouth suddenly close to Jon’s ear. “We’re going to take you apart, and you’re going to love it.” It should sound ridiculous but it’s so goddamn sweet, somehow, so Jon holds on tighter and leans into Ryan’s hands and Spencer who is still touching him, and lets them.
Pairing(s): Panic GSF
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Mild s/D dynamics, hair-pulling.
Word count: 1306
Summary: Jon has no idea what his band mates are up to, but he’s beginning to think he might like it. An unauthorized sequel to
fictionalaspect’s All In.A/N: This is for
fictionalaspect, obviously, because when she posted that story I said something about how Jon Walker needs to get what’s clearly coming to him, and she told me to write it, which--I couldn’t figure out how to get it right, not then. Partly because I'm very bad at writing porn. But then I was writing her a different story in October (yeah, there are two more coming eventually, but they will be much longer, my darling, so they’re not done yet, and also they involve no cheating and riffing off of your stories) when I thought of this. It has been missing about three paragraphs for the last month, so I wrote them now. Hi. Love you and stuff.When Jon wakes up, the bed is empty and the cabin is quiet. That’s kind of weird, but he’s not too worried: more than likely, his bandmates got up, went to eat breakfast and then fell asleep on top of each other in the living room. Like they do.
His shoulders and wrists still twinge a little; holding himself up while fucking Brendon last night had been great at the time, not letting Brendon take his weight when he so clearly wanted to, but now he’s feeling it. (Probably Brendon is too. Jon isn’t smirking, not even a little.)
They’re not in the living room.
Okay, this is a little weird. Jon frowns and walks towards the kitchen, trying to figure out where they’ll be if they aren’t in there (seriously, it’s not even ten yet, normally Ryan doesn’t get out of bed until noon at the earliest) and mentally reminding himself that they put the peanut butter on top of the fridge last night. Jon can’t remember why, but he knows that’s where it is.
They’re not in the kitchen either. Jon has a sandwich and tries to figure out where he left his phone, because maybe he can call them? While he’s thinking about that, he hears Brendon laughing, and seconds later, the three of them are tumbling into the kitchen.
They fall silent when they see him, and Ryan grins.
“You woke up, huh?”
“Woke up alone,” Jon said, and it’s not plaintive, he’s not the plaintive one in this relationship, but it makes Brendon ruffle his hair anyway.
“Sorry,” Ryan says, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all. He’s smirking a bit, and Jon frowns. He’s still not completely awake, or he would know why Ryan is smirking like that.
Jon’s train of thought is interrupted by Brendon tugging at his hair. “Did you sleep well, Jon Walker?”
“Sure,” Jon says.
Brendon tugs at his hair again, and Jon leans into it a little.
“Good,” says Brendon, kisses Jon on the cheek and wanders over to the coffee machine, humming below his breath. Jon isn’t disappointed that the hair-tugging wasn’t going anywhere, really, but he’s--well, okay, so he’s a little disappointed.
“I think Jon is lonely,” Spencer says. He’s still leaning against the wall, and he’s still fucking smirking, too.
“Aw, that’s too bad,” Ryan says, but he doesn’t move any closer to Jon. His expression is a match for Spencer’s at this point (Brendon and Jon once tried to come up with a name for that, the way Ryan and Spencer can slide into the same mood, but they couldn’t think of a good word for it. It’s possible they were stoned at the time), and Jon carefully doesn’t let his face show how much that makes him want to kiss Ryan. It’s no good giving your advantage away this early in the game. Because it is a game, the BFF matching thing is convincing him.
Of course, once Brendon has had coffee it all deteriorates into an impromptu song about toasters, complete with Spencer keeping the beat by tapping on the fridge and Ryan doing harmony in his own inimitable way. Jon can’t breathe for laughing, but he knows it’s not over yet.
--
He hasn’t figured it out by lunch time. Or, uh, the afternoon when they finally get sick of trying to match the lyrics Ryan has written to “a fucking melody I can sing,” as Brendon puts it before he walks out and slams the door, because Brendon sometimes needs to yell in order to keep on working. Spencer refuses to cook because he claims he did it the last eight times (which is, as Ryan points out, an “utter and complete exaggeration”--it’s more like the last six), so Jon breaks out the microwave pizzas.
While he’s staring at the box, Ryan comes up behind him. Jon doesn’t usually feel shorter than the rest of his band (on the grounds of being stronger than everyone but Spencer, and Spencer doesn’t really lord it over him most of the time), but something about the way Ryan gets close and kind of brackets him with his arms, hmm.
“What’s up?” he says, leaning back into Ryan. (Hey, no one says he minds being shorter.)
Ryan hums. “Nothing,” he says, but one hand curves around Jon’s hip, so he’s clearly lying.
“Are you starting something before dinner, Ross?” he asks, grinning.
“Nope,” Ryan says, and squeezes Jon’s hip before stepping away.
Jon shakes his head bemusedly, and goes back to figuring out the instructions.
He only burns the pizza a little bit.
Brendon proclaims it delicious, clearly over his irritation from earlier, and steals two of Spencer’s pieces. When Spencer shrugs instead of retaliating, Jon blinks.
“Seriously, you guys have been weird all day. What’s going on?”
Brendon starts to say something but he hesitates and looks over at Ryan, who shakes his head.
“Don’t worry, Jonathan,” Ryan says, “you’ll find out.”
--
Spencer pulls him out of his seat after dinner, kind of like he’s been pushing at Jon a little all day, every time Jon was in the way or whatever, except now he isn’t letting go, pulling Jon into the living room.
Jon goes, because they’re all looking and he’s, well. There’s a reason he wanted someone to come on his face when they were doing the jar thing--actually, there are several, but the part where he liked the way it made him look, that’s the part that’s pulling at him here, even as he follows Spencer’s hands so he’s facing Ryan and Brendon. Spencer’s standing behind him, fingers curved over his shoulders and scratching at his neck; Jon leans into it, he can’t help himself.
“Jon Walker,” Brendon says, coming forward to touch at Jon’s jaw. “What are we going to do with you?”
Jon bites down on the Whatever you want that threatens to emerge, because shit, shit, he’s not that gone, is he? Ryan’s sudden grin tells him his expression must have revealed some of what he was thinking anyway, goddammit. He’s way too easy for this band, it’s fucking annoying sometimes.
Spencer smothers a laugh into Jon’s neck and Jon jerks because Spencer follows it up with a scrape of his teeth over Jon’s skin. The asshole.
Ryan is still looking at him, grin smoothing out into a considering expression. “You could suck me off,” he suggests. Spencer’s hands tighten and Jon, well. He folds to his knees, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do when Ryan is looking at him like that? Spencer follows him to the floor and Jon leans into him, back to Spencer’s chest, and shivers when Spencer’s fingers creep under the hem of his t-shirt, nails scratching at his stomach.
Closing his eyes, he moans when Ryan gets his hands into his hair, pulling hard, now, nothing like Brendon’s light tugging earlier. (Sucking Ryan’s dick is actually easier when someone else is helping him out; he’s big enough that it’s easy to get distracted by that, by how hard it is to keep your mouth open and keep the beat at the same time. This, following Ryan’s hands and making sure to not let your teeth get in the way, this is easier because you can relax into it.)
Brendon makes a noise somewhere to the left of them and Jon reaches out, fumbling until he feels Brendon grab his hand. He must be kneeling, too.
“Oh, we’re going to take you apart,” he says, mouth suddenly close to Jon’s ear. “We’re going to take you apart, and you’re going to love it.” It should sound ridiculous but it’s so goddamn sweet, somehow, so Jon holds on tighter and leans into Ryan’s hands and Spencer who is still touching him, and lets them.