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mortalthreadFandom-Panic! At The Disco (Although, they've recently taken the ! out of their name...bastards...)
Rating-Let's see, softcore porn, with an edge, I'd give it NC-17.
Warnings-MildMildMild S& M.
Word count-2,596 FTW!
Characters-Brendon Urie/Ryan Ross/Bubblewrap
Summary-Brendon get's his comeupance for annoying the hell out of Ryan.
A/N-I wanna dedicate this to Laura. As she's my inspiration for all things crack, apparently. I LESS THAN THREE YOU!
Bubble Wrap
Short Fic/Drabble//Partial Crack!fic
Pairing: Ryden Duurrrtyyy
Summary: Ryan’s new guitar comes equipped with a casing of bubble wrap. Ryan's hate for bubble wrap turns into something he can use against Brendon's annoying ways.
Warnings: Very softcore S&M. For you, Laura, I've barely mentioned any secks at all.
Dedications: Laura, for giving me the idea for the saran wrap condoms, then the bubble wrap thing on the phone, whatever the hell we were talking about.
Ryan Ross ran excitedly into the practice space and dropped to his knees on the floor, heavy box crashing with a loud thud. He sat back on his heels for a moment, reverently running his hands over the large cardboard box, and he grinned to himself, looking around. He rubbed his hands together, then tore into the package. He managed to pull the tape back, throwing over his head, but not managing to make it go anywhere and it landed in his hair. He pulled the flaps back.
“Oh, wow…” he whispered. His hand shot through several layers of peanuts before coming to the wrapped item. He panted happily for a second, and then sat back, running a hand through his hair, shutting his eyes, and took a deep breath, composing himself.
“You’re meditating. Must be a new gee-tar, eh?”
Ryan jerked, blinking. He looked up, seeing their singer standing beside him, bag of gummy worms in hand. He had his glasses, as well as a curious look, on. Brendon casually disentangled the tape from Ryan’s hair.
“What do you want, Brendon?”
“I’m bored.”
“You’re always bored.”
“So I always come to bother you.”
“Yeah, well, fuck off. My baby’s here.”
“I thought I was your baby.”
“When you behave, now leave.”
“Nu-uh.” He plopped onto the couch behind him. “I wanna see it.”
“After I break her in.”
Ryan pulled the guitar from the box in a waterfall of sea foam green packaging peanuts. He held it up, reveling in the brown paper casing. He took hold of the neck gently-
And felt something pop.
“FUCK!”
Brendon shot upright on the couch.
“The hell? Did one of the strings pop already?”
“No! They wrapped it in BUBBLEWRAP AGAIN!” Ryan let out a wail, falling backwards onto the carpet; his fingers fluttered weakly one either side of his face against the Berber. He saw the green sneakers move slightly, and then Brendon’s face appeared above him.
“For the record, that was very unlike you.”
Ryan shut his eyes, covering his face with long fingers.
“Fuck OFF and DIE, Brendon.”
“I cant fuck off. At least, not without you.”
“I don’t like you today,” Ryan said bluntly, voice raising slightly, and he pointed at Brendon. He sat up, leaning back on one arm. Brendon only grinned at him.
“What’s so bad about bubble wrap, Ry?”
“It’s annoying,” he said, then tilted his head at him, “like you.”
“But you love me.”
“Not always.”
“Hey!”
“It also fucks the strings up for some reason. They’re not as tight as they should be.”
Ryan heard silence for a moment after that, then jumped, squeaking when he heard a voice, husky and hot against his ear.
“I know something else that’s tight.”
Ryan flushed.
“Bren…Not now.”
“Aww…you’re no fun. I’m gonna go find Spencer.”
“Good. But don’t come to me when he makes you cry.”
Brendon shrugged.
“Jon doesn’t like me when I cry.”
“That’s cause you wail like a fucking banshee.”
“No, correction: you make me wail like a fucking banshee. Spencer just makes me cry.” Ryan sighed, looking at him, one perfect eyebrow furrowed. He shook his head.
“Sometimes, I worry about you.”
Brendon giggled and Ryan smiled a little at him. He set about untying the package, then ripped the paper off, throwing it over his head, only to have that land on his head as well.
“You have shitty aim, you know that?”
Ryan growled, turned abruptly at him.
“You want to make something of it?”
Brendon recoiled.
“Um, no.” A few of the bubbles popped beneath Ryan’s fingers and Brendon watched as Ryan began to quietly fume.
“Ryan, can I say something?”
“What?”
“It’s just plastic.”
“Plastic…that pops!” His hands flew to his hair, and he raked his long fingers through nervously.
“Ryan, settle.”
He sat back against the couch, eyes finally finding Brendon’s. He slumped against the singer’s knees, resting his head against them, and then Brendon’s fingers were winding their way into his hair.
“Been a rough week, I’m sorry I snapped.”
“No problem.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, and Ryan ran his fingers over the bubble wrap. He pressed hard, wincing at the sound it made. Ryan felt the whisper of a touch behind his ear, and he tensed, looking slowly to his left and was met with a single finger mere millimeters from his face. He turned away.
“You know, you relax really well after…services…”
“I could use a good unwinding.” Brendon’s fingertip slid down the shell of Ryan’s ear and Ryan let the fingers slide slowly down his face, touching lips, parting them gently.
Ryan bit down on them.
“Ow! Jesus! The fuck was that for?”
“You’ve been driving me nuts for the past week!”
“Well, you didn’t have to bite me…” Brendon, said, drawing his finger back, and Ryan felt a stab of guilt, before thinking back to the peanut butter in the condom episode earlier. He sat up, kneeling in front of Brendon on the couch. He rested his head lightly on his knees and he felt the singer tense.
“What…what are you doing?”
“You’ve been nothing but a bitch to me this week. Make it up to me,” he stated aggressively.
“Well, you’re obviously not in the mood, so I guess I’ll go,” the younger man murmured. He started to stand, but the deceivingly strong guitarist settled his hands on Brendon’s kneecaps, pressing hard. He fell back. Ryan sucked in his bottom lip, sliding his hands upwards, followed by the rest of his body. He stopped close to Brendon’s face. Brendon’s lips parted and his eyes fluttered. Ryan raised a finger to his mouth, repeating the action Brendon had done earlier. He pressed a finger to his bottom lip.
“Who said I wasn’t in the mood?” He heard Brendon’s breath catch and then slid his finger into his mouth.
“Suck.”
Brendon’s eyes widened, but he obeyed.
“I don’t have a condom,” Ryan mused lightly, “whatever shall. I. Do?” He glanced around the room, eyes coming to rest on the bane of evil-
The bubble wrap.
“Shut your eyes,” he whispered. He slid off, taking his scarf off and wrapping it around Brendon’s eyes.
“Ry?” came the shaky question.
“Mm?”
“I thought we talked about this tying up stuff…that’s what you like, not me.”
“You’ve only ever tied me up, kid. You never let me tie you up,” he said, smirk in his voice, and he accented the ‘p.’ He saw Brendon shiver slightly, and he waved his fingers from a distance in front of him.
No reaction. Brendon’s head was whipping around nervously. He suppressed a laugh as he grabbed the bubble wrap, folding it lightly and soundlessly before sliding it into his back pocket. He felt a bolt of excite flash through him and he turned sharply, grin on his face. He slid back onto Brendon’s lap using his knees. He untied the scarf and began to be careful with his movement so Brendon wouldn’t suspect anything.
“Buuuuut….I guess we can save the tying up for another day.” Brendon’s hand slid around to Ryan’s back and Ryan smiled, lifting one long digit to pull Brendon’s chin up, and he went in for a sweet kiss. Brendon’s hand slid lower, tracing Ryan’s spine, and the guitarist wiggled a little, smiling against Brendon‘s mouth. Not breaking the kiss, Brendon slid down lower on the couch, and Ryan lowered himself on top of him.
Brendon’s hand snaked down to grab his ass, and still not breaking the kiss, the taller boy batted it away. Brendon whined.
“I’m on top tonight,” he hissed into the singer’s ear.
Brendon gulped audibly.
“You stretched?”
The singer nodded. Ryan turtled his head back a little, and then cocked it.
“Well, now there’s something I wasn’t expecting. What, were you like playing with yourself all day or something?”
Brendon flushed and Ryan laughed.
“Good. You’re going to need it. I’m going to seriously fuck you up,” he said seductively, trailing a finger down Brendon’s chest. Lithe fingers joined it, sliding down the rest of the way, tickling his stomach lightly, and then gracefully undid the button on his pants. A zipper came down, and then Ryan shot off the couch. He dragged Brendon with him, and the kissing began to escalate.
“How bad do you need it?” Ryan panted.
“I don’t know, actually.” Ryan made a noise of annoyance and rolled his eyes. He slammed the pianist against the wall, kissing him roughly, then nipping at his neck.
“I’m going to ask you again. How badly do you need it?”
“Ahhhgod…keep doing that…”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Brendon regained some composure and he found Ryan’s eyes.
“I think the question is, how badly do you want it?”
Ryan slammed him hard against the wall again, this time getting a whimper.
“It’s my game tonight, Bren. Mine. Don’t fucking turn the tables or there will be consequences, involving the gag and scarves. And quite possibly the vibrator.”
“Not the vibrator,” Brendon squeaked, eyes impossibly wide. Ryan grinned wickedly.
“The pink vibrator, you know, the one with the three speeds,” Ryan said slowly, “and I’m going to leave it in all night if you fuck this up for me. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.” Ryan saw fear in the younger man’s eyes, and he felt the guilt return.
“You’ve been bad.”
“I know,” Brendon whimpered against him, dropping his forehead to meet Ryan’s.
“And I’m pretty sure I’ve got something that might make you never be that annoying again.”
“Ryan?”
“Shut up.”
“No, Ryan…are we-are we-is this-”
“I said shut up.”
“Yessir.” Brendon lowered his head farther. Ryan lifted his fingers again, and he leaned a little closer, cocking his head again.
“Suck.” Brendon obediently began to suck, eyes meeting Ryan’s and never leaving, even after Ryan slid them out. His hand flew to Brendon’s pants, and he wormed his way through denim and boxers before he found his destination.
Brendon howled in pain and Ryan pressed them in further.
“So, three’s the limit, is it?”
Brendon nodded, biting hard on his lip, a small drop of blood trickling from the corner. Ryan bent to lap it up. He scissor his fingers inside him for a moment, letting Brendon bite his lip as he cried out, then relaxed with an anguished cry as he bored down on him.
Ryan smirked, shaking his head a little.
“You are such a slut.”
Brendon’s eyes fluttered and flicked up to him.
“Ryan-please…”
“What? Can’t handle it? Suck it up, Bren. You’re gonna need the stretching before I’m ready.”
“Ryan-you’re not-”
“I’m not what?”
“Ry-”
“I’m not what?!”
“…”
“SAY IT!”
“You’re not that thick!” the singer cried, bearing down again. Ryan slid his fingers partially out, and he smirked as Brendon wriggled, trying to find them again.
“Just wait and see.” He slid his fingers all the way out, and then slid his other hand up Brendon’s stomach, fingering the hem of his shirt before sliding his hand up it. Brendon gasped, and Ryan reached down, cupping his crotch.
He was hard.
“You’re really getting off on this, aren’t you?”
Brendon shook his head, trying to avoid the taller boy.
“You’re scaring me…” Brendon felt Ryan stop for a second, but then continued rubbing and sucking on his neck.
Ryan pressed into him.
“Too fucking bad.”
“Ryan…” Ryan flipped him around without warning, and Brendon braced himself painfully at the last second, arms locking. Ryan kicked the door shut, locking it. He grabbed his scarf again, and some lube from under the couch cushion. He tied the scarf around Brendon’s eyes, then pulled the bubble wrap out. He grabbed a rubber band from the table, and then slid his pants down. He pulled down his boxers, and let his hard-on free. He stared down at himself.
Not that thick…fuck him…He waved at his dick, smirking to himself, giddy at what he was about to do.
He wrapped the bubble wrap around it, then rubber banded it at the base. He slid Brendon’s shirt up, then gently pulled down his pants. He allowed him to kick them until they were at his ankles, giving him freedom to move his knees at least.
Ryan removed the scarf. Brendon turned to look at him, but Ryan kept his head towards the wall as he added lube to the makeshift bubble wrap condom.
“Stay the fuck there, and don’t make a sound.”
Brendon whimpered and Ryan smacked him lightly on the face.
“I said don’t make a sound.”
Brendon nodded. Ryan sighed inwardly-
Then-
Pop!Ryan began to giggle insanely behind the singer and he saw Brendon’s eyes widen.
“YOU’RE FUCKING ME WITH BUBBLE WRAP?! THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU-”
He was cut off as Ryan slammed into him, causing more of the plastic to pop inside him, the sounds slightly muffled, some cracked as they first entered. Brendon moaned slightly, rocking back a little and onto the older boy. Ryan brought one hand up to wrap around him, pulling him to his chest and the other hit the wall hard next to Brendon’s. He bit his neck lightly, then whispered, “Touch yourself…You’re allowed to.”
Ryan began to fuck him harder and he felt the singer tensing up.
He’s not used to this…He craned his neck, and he saw tears falling from the singer’s face. He leaned back again, and he began to go even harder, hearing the singer cry out. He wanted him to tell him to stop.
Shit.
Soon would be nice. Brendon’s head began to shake back and forth and his eyes shut tightly. His teeth grit and Ryan knew it was coming.
Ryan stopped.
He recognized one of their old safe words and he pulled out.
Brendon stood for second before falling back against him. Ryan caught him, sinking to the ground with him. He absently pulled the bubble wrap off his dick, popping the rest as Brendon composed himself.
“You okay?”
Brendon laughed softly.
“You fuck me with bubble wrap and you ask if I’m okay?”
Ryan flushed.
“I just thought…”
“No….Ryan…”
“But-”
“That was the funniest thing ever…”
Ryan felt a giggle rise in his throat.
“I had to! I’m sorry!”
The singer smiled tiredly at him.
“Next time, though, scare me afterwards, okay? I don’t like that kind of shit…I thought you were going to whip out a spiked dildo. Like the hand cranked ones they used way back when. That would totally have not been cool.”
Ryan bent double, laughing.
“Seriously though, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Won’t be able to sit for like, three weeks. Thank you, Ross.”
“No problem.”
“Dude, I knew you were creepy, but I didn’t think you were that sexually weird.”
Ryan ruffled his hair.
“Oh come on.”
“Well, I can still help you with that.” Ryan looked down. His erection was still there, no signs of flagging.
“Be my guest. But could you do something for me?”
“What?”
“Get me some more bubble wrap before you do. I want to use it for the impending blow job.”
“FLAPJACK!”
