Bonus Points: Team Jon: Devil's Advocate
Clarity

Clarity


Brendon was burnt out.

He didn’t think that he’d miss dragging his ass to campus every weekday to sit in lecture halls and listen to boring professors with heavy foreign accents drone on about something relatively irrelevant to life. He didn’t think he’d miss cramming for finals or struggling to get decent grades or worrying about whether his GPA would drop down a tenth of a point. But the fact of the matter was that he did. He missed it all very badly.

His job was getting to him. Nine-to-five was a lot more difficult than he thought it was. It was hectic and stressful, but it was also terribly monotonous. Brendon wanted excitement, adventure, something. Something other than the predictable. He hated how the days seemed to blend together until they just seemed like one very long day.

Brendon had an idea. He had a few vacation days that he could take, and he was going to talk to his boss about using them. He just needed a break, time to clear his head. When he came back, he’d be refreshed and ready to work with renewed vigor and enthusiasm.



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“Why can’t I come?” his girlfriend whined.

Brendon sighed. He really didn’t want to have to deal with her right now. He was leaving to de-stress, and he frankly didn’t want her coming along. “Sweetie, I just need some time to myself.”

Her eyebrows dipped down, and Brendon instantly knew that he’d said the wrong thing as he scanned her angry visage. “You mean you want some time away from me? You can’t stand me, is that it?”

Brendon scrunched up his face in frustration. “No, baby, that’s not-”

“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” she yelled. “I’m the only one that wants to work on this relationship.” She continued to yell at him while he wondered when exactly he started losing control of his life. They’d only been dating for six weeks, and she was acting like they were married.

“Look,” he said, interrupting her tirade, “I’m going to New York, and I’m going by myself. Just deal with it.”

Before he could say anything else, she had whirled around and stormed out, the bang resulting from the door slam echoing throughout the apartment. Brendon let out a resigned sigh and wandered into his bedroom to finish packing.



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As the airplane charged down the runway, Brendon gripped the armrests almost instinctively, even though he wasn’t really afraid of flying. The woman across the aisle had a rosary in hand, and he could hear her praying under her breath. He felt himself lean back as the plane took off, and he turned his head towards the window to watch as the desert below drifted further and further from him. Once the plane righted itself, he loosened his grip on the armrests, shut his eyes briefly, and let out a breath. When he opened his eyes again, he waited patiently for the seatbelt and electronics lights to turn off, and when they did, he swiftly moved from his seat to grab his iPod and the Dan Brown book he’d brought with him.

Brendon put in the earphones and set his iPod to shuffle as he observed those on the plane with him. The plane was near empty, so empty that there was no one sitting next to him. His eyes glanced over the mother with her little girl a few rows up and noted that the teddy bear she held was a lot like the one he had as a kid. He then looked further down the plane to an elderly man in a suit with glasses perched on his nose reading a newspaper, and Brendon got a “Behold, my future” feeling. He shook his head slightly and then turned his head to look behind him.

His gaze fell over a young man a few rows down. He wore a white t-shirt with a tan vest, and a brown fedora sat casually atop a head of wavy brown hair. This man had a pencil in hand, holding it seemingly awkwardly as he scribbled inside a sketchbook. He seemed to be oblivious of his surroundings, seemed to not care that a baby was crying loudly just a few rows behind him. Brendon was slightly fascinated by him. It might’ve been the way he was dressed, or maybe it was the way he was concentrating so intently on the drawing in front of him. Brendon wasn’t exactly sure.

All of a sudden, the man stopped scribbling and looked up. He caught Brendon’s eyes and just stared. It was as if he’d felt those observant eyes on him the whole time, watching and analyzing his every move, and had only just decided to acknowledge it. He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t smile at Brendon either. After a moment, Brendon uncomfortably turned away, tearing his eyes away from the light brown ones that bore into his, and he could feel heat creep up his neck to his cheeks and ears as the embarrassment over getting caught started taking over. He picked the book up from the tray in front of him and buried his face in it as best as he could while still trying to act like he was reading.

As he held the book in his hands, Brendon’s mind raced over and over what just happened, eyes passing over the words though his mind was not really comprehending them. He didn’t know why he’d stared, didn’t understand why he’d felt so embarrassed after getting caught. Brendon already felt like this vacation of his was going to be interesting, since he was only a few hours into it and something strange had already happened. It took a while for him to shake the feeling after the encounter, but once he did, he felt his eyes slip shut and the book fall away from his fingers, music still playing in his ears.



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Brendon was woken up a couple of hours later by a hand on his shoulder. He jerked awake and turned to find the woman across the aisle smiling amiably at him. “We’re about to land,” she’d said, and Brendon managed to nod and flash a smile at her. He turned off his iPod and buckled his seat belt as he was still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

Once the wheels had touched the ground and the plane taxied until it came to a stop at the gate, people raced to grab their things and be the first off the plane. Brendon had decided to hang back and let everyone go ahead of him, figuring that it’d be easier to not have to worry about holding people up as he took his bag down from the overhead bin. As he wrapped his earphones around his iPod, he couldn’t help glancing up and seeing the young man from earlier walk past. As he did, the man stared him down in that same intense manner as earlier, and this time, Brendon didn’t look away until the man did.

When most of the passengers had left the plane, Brendon got up and grabbed his carry-on, and he de-boarded the plane as a smiling flight attendant welcomed him to New York. He’d never been there before, but a friend of his, Spencer, had moved out there right after college. Brendon was going to crash at his place for the few days he was in New York and was set on just wandering the city by himself during the day while Spencer was at work.

Brendon found his way to the baggage claim easily enough and stood by it with the rest of the passengers that had been on the plane. It was always his least favorite part of traveling as he was anxious about his luggage having possibly gotten lost somewhere between checking it in Vegas and unloading it in New York.

He was suddenly jolted from his thoughts as a voice rang out next to him, “You look confused.”

It was the man from the plane. Brendon felt his heart beating hard in his chest, as he realized that this guy was addressing him, his voice low but steady. A silence passed as Brendon thought about how odd this all was. “Why would I be confused?” Brendon asked, trying to sound calm.

The man just shrugged, and Brendon felt his eyes on him again. Brendon’s skin was starting to burn under the scrutinizing gaze, and he didn’t know whether he liked the feeling or not. “We’re all confused,” he answered, and Brendon frowned slightly. “No one knows half the shit they think they know.”

And with that, the man picked up his bag from the carousel and promptly left without a glance back. Brendon just stared dumbly after him, completely dumbfounded by this stranger.

Brendon suddenly shook his head to get himself out of the daze he was in and finally noticed that his bag had appeared on the luggage carousel. He grabbed it quickly when it made its way to him, and he shouldered it and walked outside to the line of taxis. Once he got one, he gave the man Spencer’s address, and he gazed out the window, trying to take in the sights of the city despite the fact that his head was spinning with a million and one thoughts and questions.

Once he arrived in front of Spencer’s apartment building, he paid the cab driver and ambled over to the door where he buzzed Spencer’s apartment. “Brendon!” Spencer’s voice rang out from the box by the door. “Come on up.”

A buzzing noise followed, and Brendon pulled the door open and went in to climb the three flights of stairs to Spencer’s apartment. Once he found the right door, he held his fist up to knock on it, but the door flew open before he could do so. Soon, he was engulfed in a hug and pulled inside. “How you been, buddy?” Spencer said.

“Great,” Brendon lied. He took in his friend’s appearance. Spencer looked different. He had a beard now, and his hair had grown almost to his shoulders. “You look good, Spence.”

“Thanks, man,” Spencer said. “Frankly, Brendon, you look like crap.” He’d laughed after he said it, but Brendon knew that there was some truth to it. Spencer was the kind of person who’d tell everything to you straight, and Brendon liked that about him. It was part of the reason why Brendon had decided to visit him in the first place. He wanted everything to feel real again. He hated how fake everyone seemed to be in his daily life, all of his coworkers, even his girlfriend. He was forgetting what honesty felt like, and it was refreshing to get it from Spencer.

Brendon scoffed. “Yeah, I know. I’ve just been really stressed out.”

“Well, let’s fix that,” Spencer said, as he grabbed Brendon’s bag and dumped it in a closet. “Have a seat,” he told Brendon, gesturing to the couch before going into the kitchen area. Spencer pulled open the refrigerator and emerged with two beers. Brendon took the proffered bottle and took a big gulp as Spencer did the same.

“You like the couch?” Spencer asked.

Brendon looked around him and responded, “Yeah.”

“Good,” he said with a chuckle, “because that’s where you’re sleeping.”

Brendon laughed, and he was beginning to feel the tension in his body melt away. He’d forgotten what it was like to laugh like that. There was nothing forced about it, the sound coming from deep within him to tumble out from his mouth easily.

He liked laughing, and Brendon made a mental note to never forget that again.



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Spencer had gone to work, so Brendon had taken the opportunity to walk around in the late afternoon. Somehow, he’d managed to find his way to Central Park, and he found a path and decided to follow wherever it led. He walked slowly, taking his time to look around, to observe the people around him, to gaze at the trees and the ponds and the flowers he passed by.

And then he stopped dead in his tracks.

Brendon was presented with an ineffable situation. He didn’t understand how this could happen in a city of millions, but there he was, sitting on a bench in front of him, sketching in his sketchbook yet again. What was Brendon to do? He didn’t know this person, didn’t even know his name, but something had orchestrated their paths crossing again. Was he to walk by and feign ignorance? That was, after all, the safest and most logical route. But then Brendon remembered why he was there in that city in the first place. He was tired of taking the safe and logical route. That’s what had gotten him in this rut in the first place. So he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked over to the bench.

He sat down next to the man, who didn’t even look up from his sketchbook. Brendon opened his mouth to say something, but the man had beaten him to it, saying, “It’s strange how things work out.” His eyes were still focused downward, hand still scribbling furiously to shade in the flower Brendon could see him drawing. After finishing the petal, he turned the pencil so it rested in his hand and looked at Brendon in that manner that Brendon was beginning to believe was normal for him.

“How so?” Brendon asked. He didn’t know why, but this man was utterly fascinating. He was desperate to hear him explain this one.

“I had a feeling I’d see you again,” he said, and for the first time, Brendon saw a smile on the man’s face. It caused Brendon’s heart to go haywire, and he knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn’t help it, especially when this man’s appearance was enhanced, bathed in the warm tones of a setting sun. Also, he didn’t seem to mind the staring.

“What’s your name?” Brendon asked breathlessly.

The man eyed him carefully and then answered, “Ryan. Ryan Ross.”

Brendon held his hand out, and Ryan shook it. “I’m Brendon Urie,” he said.

“Well, Brendon Urie, what are you looking for?” Brendon swallowed as he watched Ryan’s lips move.

“What do you mean?”

Ryan shrugged just like he had earlier. Brendon watched as Ryan gripped the sketchbook in front him. He flipped the pages of it and suddenly ripped one out. He handed the paper to Brendon, and Brendon’s eyes widened. It was a drawing of him asleep on the plane complete with a book splayed out on his lap and earphones dangling from his ears.

“It was nice meeting you, Brendon Urie,” Ryan said. He then got up off the bench, leaving Brendon stunned yet again.


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Spencer had a boyfriend, Jon. Brendon found that he got along with Jon really well. Like Spencer, Jon was a genuine person, easy to get along with, and just generally laid-back.

The two of them listened patiently as Brendon recounted his encounters with one Ryan Ross over a late dinner at a pizza place, them humming interestedly until their eyes widened when he showed them the drawing.

“You sure he’s not a stalker?” Spencer asked, earning a playful hit from Jon.

Brendon shrugged as he tore into his slice of pizza. “Doesn’t seem like one.”

“Why?” Jon said with a laugh. “Have you crossed paths with many stalkers?” He added a wiggle of his eyebrows for effect.

Brendon snorted. “Don’t you think it’s weird that…” Brendon began but trailed off. “Motherfucker,” he muttered under his breath as he stared at the door.

Spencer and Jon whipped their heads around to follow Brendon’s gaze. As a couple in love would do, they turned back again to him as one, but Brendon hadn’t really noticed. He was a little too preoccupied with the thought that some higher power was playing a very weird joke on him.

He watched Ryan Ross walk towards the line, and as he did so, he’d finally noticed Brendon. He moved towards the table that Spencer, Jon, and Brendon sat at.

Brendon couldn’t help it. This was getting ridiculous. “Are you following me?” he asked Ryan.

“Why?” Ryan asked in return. “Are you following me?”

“No,” Brendon said, barely taking in the fact that Spencer and Jon were trying their hardest not to openly laugh.

Ryan nodded. “Well, then no. I’m not.” Brendon was beginning to get that whenever he asked Ryan a question, Ryan would answer with something slightly off but seemingly conclusive nonetheless.

They just stared at each other, Ryan calm and Brendon almost defiant. The spell was broken when Jon cleared his throat, causing the two to turn towards him. Spencer decided to intercept, addressing Ryan, “Would you, uh, like to join us? We have plenty of pizza.” He gestured to the large pizza in front of him as Brendon kicked his foot under the table.

There was a pause, and then Ryan said, “Alright.”


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Brendon was astonished to find that Spencer and Jon had gotten Ryan to act relatively normal. It seemed that Ryan was capable of normal conversation and small talk. He was quite eloquent actually, and Brendon found himself hanging onto every word that spilled from Ryan’s mouth.

Before Brendon knew what was happening, Spencer and Jon got up swiftly from the table. “I’m going back to Jon’s. You’ve got the key, right Brendon?”

“Um, Spencer-”

“Great! Let’s go.” Spencer tugged Jon out the door, and Brendon stared dumbly after them.

He heard a chuckle and turned towards Ryan with wide eyes. “Shall we go?” Ryan asked him, and Brendon only nodded in response.

They got up from the table and walked out of the restaurant and into the cool night air. Brendon didn’t know what to say, so he just walked beside Ryan, falling into step with his slow pace. “You know,” Ryan said, breaking the silence, “I feel like we’ve met before.”

“Maybe in a different life,” Brendon said. Ryan nodded thoughtfully in agreement. “It might be why it feels like you know me better than anyone.” It came out as a whisper, but Ryan had heard it. He’d stopped walking and just stared at Brendon, not saying a word. Brendon just stared back and let those eyes see right into him. He felt like Ryan was reading him like a book, taking in every single thing that made Brendon who he was and incorporating it into himself. Then Brendon started to walk again, leading them towards Spencer’s apartment.

When they got there, they just stood in front of the building for a while until Brendon couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you look at me like that?”

“Because you’re beautiful,” Ryan said clearly. It wasn’t the answer Brendon was expecting, even though he wasn’t really expecting an answer in the first place.

Brendon’s body moved almost instinctively, before his mind could tell it that Brendon was straight and had a girlfriend. He kissed Ryan, and as their lips crashed together, he let out a sigh. Ryan’s lips pressed into Brendon’s, and Brendon felt Ryan’s hands at his waist gripping firmly, though not enough to bruise. Brendon pulled back to whisper, “Come up with me.”

Ryan chuckled, and Brendon wished he wouldn’t do that since it only made him want Ryan more. “Do you always bring strangers home with you?”

Brendon shook his head. “Never.”

“Then why me?” Ryan asked.

This time, it was Brendon who shrugged in response to a question. “We weren’t always strangers,” Brendon answered.

Ryan paused, then finally nodded. Brendon tugged him through the door, up the three flights of stairs, into Spencer’s apartment, and onto the couch. From there, Brendon started to kiss Ryan again, this time more feverishly. He had maneuvered himself onto Ryan’s lap, Ryan’s hands finding their way to Brendon’s ass. Brendon removed Ryan’s hat to reveal a head of messy, wavy hair, and his fingers combed through it while he bent down to kiss him. Brendon didn’t really know what he was doing, but Ryan had said that people don’t know half the things they thought they knew, so he was comfortable with not knowing. Ryan would understand.

Brendon bit his neck, causing Ryan to moan in his ear. He liked hearing Ryan start to come undone, liked that he was the one doing it, that he was in control. Brendon hardly ever felt like he was in control, and up until now, Ryan was a complete mystery to him. But now, in the midst of this heat, Brendon was starting to see Ryan, and he liked that too. Brendon sucked at the bite on Ryan’s neck, forming a bruise that would for sure be there the next day.

When he thought Ryan’s neck had had enough, he mumbled against Ryan’s skin, “Shirt. Off.” He tugged gently at the hem for effect. Ryan nodded, so Brendon shoved the vest off of him, his palms grazing Ryan’s clothed chest and feeling every muscle and bone.

“Arms up,” Brendon said, and Ryan complied. Brendon pulled the white t-shirt up and over his head, and he took in the vast planes of Ryan’s chest. Brendon ached to touch the creamy skin below him, and when he couldn’t take it anymore, he found that it felt just as soft as Brendon thought.

Brendon eyed Ryan’s collarbone hungrily before bending down to suck lightly on it. A whispered “Brendon” escaped from Ryan’s lips, and he smiled at the utterance of his name. It was him. He was the one doing this to Ryan, and Ryan knew it was him.

Brendon leaned back and stared into Ryan’s eyes, something he’d gotten comfortable doing. He saw something different in Ryan’s eyes this time, and Brendon realized that Ryan the Mystery was starting to let that exterior fall away. This time, Brendon was able to read Ryan, seeing lust and maybe something else swirling in those eyes.

He grinned at Ryan and pulled off his t-shirt before attacking Ryan’s lips again. He felt Ryan’s hands graze his sides, and Brendon began to move. A groan escaped Brendon’s lips, Ryan swallowing it with the rest of his mouth, as he felt they both were hard and turned on. Brendon slowed their pace a little and then pulled back entirely as the two were panting heavily.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” he told Ryan, who nodded in response. Brendon got off Ryan and walked to Spencer’s bedroom. Once there, he glanced around and decided to rummage in his bedside table drawer. Spencer wouldn’t mind, Brendon concluded, as he withdrew a bottle of lube and a condom. He couldn’t believe he was even thinking about this. Brendon was definitely venturing into the unknown with this one, and the thought excited him even more.

When he exited Spencer’s room with supplies in hand, he found that Ryan had listened to him, appearing to have sat and waited patiently on the couch for him. Brendon followed Ryan’s eyes to the objects in his hand, and Ryan just shot him a devious smile, which Brendon returned.

Brendon set the items on the coffee table and stood in front of Ryan who tugged Brendon closer by his jeans. Ryan moved forward, and Brendon bent down to capture his lips into yet another passionate kiss. “What do you want?” Ryan asked, his lips an inch away from Brendon’s.

For once in a really long time, Brendon knew the answer to this question. “I want you to fuck me.” Ryan nodded as if it was more of a confirmation than anything else.

Ryan pushed at Brendon’s shoulder to get him to stand up straight before moving to unbutton Brendon’s jeans. Brendon let out a breath as he felt Ryan’s finger against his erection as his zipper slid down. Then Ryan swiftly pulled his underwear down with his jeans, and Brendon was finally exposed. Although, if Brendon thought about it, Ryan could see his most intimate thoughts anyway, so why not his body as well?

Brendon’s breath hitched in his throat as he felt Ryan’s fingers curl around his cock, his tongue licking a wet strip up the underside of his length before taking it into his mouth. It felt hot and wet and very, very nice to Brendon as Ryan began to move his head up and down with his lips around Brendon’s cock. He was sure Ryan wasn’t as clueless about all this as he was because Ryan was just too good at hollowing his cheeks the right amount to cause moans to spill out of Brendon’s mouth. The “Ryan” that tumbled out after was breathless, and the hand that had been resting on Ryan’s shoulder moved to run through Ryan’s messy wavy hair. Ryan looked up, gazing at him from behind long eyelashes, and Brendon moaned and whispered, “Fuck, Ryan,” as the sight below him was almost too much to handle.

After what seemed like a blissful eternity, Ryan pulled off and tugged at Brendon’s arm. Brendon bent down and kissed Ryan eagerly. “You’re fucking amazing, Ryan,” Brendon said lustfully against his lips.

“Come here,” Ryan said tenderly, and Brendon was surprised at his tone but obeyed. Ryan gently eased Brendon onto his back to lie on the couch, pulling Brendon’s jeans and underwear completely off for him. Apprehension ran through his veins as Brendon had no idea what to expect, but he was very aware of being fully laid out for Ryan. It turned him on even more.

Ryan got up and calmly unbuttoned his own pants, determinedly pulling them down with his boxers as his eyes were fixed on Brendon. Brendon stared at him the whole time, and he couldn’t help biting his lip from want when they fell to the ground.

Brendon couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned forward to pull desperately at Ryan’s arm, and he fell against him. They both groaned at the contact before Brendon tilted his head forward to give him a deep, passionate kiss. He reached down to take a hold of the erection that was pressing against his hip and clumsily stroked it. The kiss they were exchanging muffled the groan that Ryan emitted, and Brendon grinned into the kiss, satisfied that he could please him.

Soon, the two were panting into each other’s skin, and Brendon managed to gasp out, “I want you. Now.”

Ryan pulled back, and Brendon saw him scan his eyes, that familiar analysis of his soul. As cheesy as it sounded, Brendon couldn’t think of another way to explain it because that’s what it felt like. Finally, Ryan smiled and spoke gently, “As you wish.”

As Brendon wished? Brendon had no idea of the concept. It was always what his parents wished, what his friends wished, what is girlfriend wished, what life wished. Never Brendon.

Ryan reached over to the coffee table for the bottle of lube, and Brendon took it from his hands. “Let me. Hold out your hand.”

Ryan smirked but did as he was told as Brendon coated his fingers liberally. Ryan moved back, and Brendon almost whined from the loss of contact but was silenced as he felt a cool, wet finger at his entrance. Ryan hesitated, asking silently for consent, and Brendon granted it. “Do it.”

With a nod, Ryan pushed in with one finger. He was trying to be gentle, trying to take it slow, but despite the foreign feeling of it, Brendon didn’t want that. “Don’t hold back,” he grunted.

Ryan stilled his hand, a look of concern on his face. “But you’ve never-”

“I don’t care.” Brendon wasn’t sure how Ryan knew that he’d never been with another man before, but he was sure that, like with everything else, Ryan could just tell. “I won’t break.”

Ryan nodded and subsequently quickened the pace, his finger sliding in and out for a bit before he added another. Brendon’s breath hitched in his throat as he started to feel the stretch and slight burn, but the sensation was so intense that it started to feel good. Ryan began to curl his fingers, and Brendon was getting the feeling that he was searching for something until he felt it and a surprised, lustful moan spilled from his lips, along with a “There. Right there.” He had found Brendon’s prostate and was continuing to rub against it with his long fingers.

It was almost too soon for Brendon when he felt Ryan slow his pace until finally pulling his fingers out entirely. He opened his eyes, which had been shut tightly out of pure bliss, to argue, but Ryan had leaned forward to kiss him, slowly traveling down to his neck to nip and bite. In between, he mumbled against Brendon’s skin, “You have no idea how hot you look.”

Brendon’s hands found Ryan’s hair, and he tugged gently but firmly. He tilted his head to look at him, and he said, “You need to fuck me. Now.”

And with one last peck, Ryan sat back again, and Brendon sat up with him and leaned over to pick up the condom on the coffee table. “I want to put it on you,” he said.

He’d never done this to anyone but himself, and it was slightly awkward but he made it work. Brendon rolled it onto Ryan’s cock, and he looked up to see the expression on Ryan’s face. He could tell that Ryan wasn’t biting his lip out of nervousness but out of restraint. Brendon smirked again, willing Ryan to further come undone at his hand, literally. He grabbed the bottle of lube from the table and rubbed a good amount on Ryan’s cock, his hand applying teasing pressure that made Ryan gasp. “That’s g-good,” Ryan said, and Brendon raised an eyebrow because not once had he heard him stutter. Granted, he’d barely spent time with Ryan, but it was a first.

Brendon smiled and lied back down on the couch, and he felt Ryan lift his leg up so his thigh rested practically against Ryan’s hip and line himself up at his entrance, feeling the head of his cock pressing up against it. Brendon closed his eyes, bracing himself, as he said, “Now.” And with that one-word command, Ryan pushed in.

Brendon felt Ryan fill him, gasping as Ryan moved until he couldn’t anymore, and it was definitely different from his two fingers. It hurt a little, but Brendon liked it. He could feel Ryan hard and heavy inside him, and the thought of it was so hot to him. “Remember what I said,” Brendon let out through gritted teeth. He opened his eyes briefly – it was barely a squint – and he could just make out Ryan’s form hovering above him and those eyes scanning lustfully over Brendon’s body and face.

Then Ryan started an even pace, not excruciatingly slow and gentle but he wasn’t slamming into him either. Brendon was breathing heavily as he got into it and matched the pace until Ryan stopped and changed the angle. This time, Ryan pushed in harder, and he hit Brendon’s prostate dead on. Brendon moaned a “Fuck!” as shots of pleasure rattled him from within, and he was surprised that he’d actually heard the whimper come from Ryan’s mouth at all.

But he’d heard it, and through the mess of moans and curses spilling from his mouth, he managed to grunt out, “I want to hear you, Ryan.” Because he did. He wanted to hear every moan and whimper and curse. He wanted him to not hold back a thing, to break out of that composed exterior that should not exist in this moment. “I told you not to hold back.”

And when he gazed in those caramel brown eyes, he saw something deep beyond them, and he tilted his head up for another kiss. When they broke, Ryan began to pound into Brendon harder, Ryan’s moans growing louder as Brendon’s hands applied pressure to his ass. “Yeah, Ryan. Like that. Just like that.”

Grunts sounded from above him, and Brendon felt beads of sweat roll down his temple. “Fuck, Brendon,” Ryan muttered through another chorus of moans, and Brendon reached up to run his fingers through Ryan’s hair. The strands were damp from sweat, and he pushed Ryan’s wet bangs away from his face, and fuck if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing Brendon had ever seen.

Eventually, Ryan moved forward to rest his head against Brendon’s shoulder, keeping the fast pace that kept Brendon cursing in his ear. With Ryan so close to him, Brendon could hear every moan, every “ah” that came from deep in his throat. He loved the noises that were coming from Ryan as they sounded so primal, so real, so intimate that it felt like they were for Brendon’s ears only.

Soon after, Ryan’s hand reached in between their bodies to stroke Brendon’s cock while continuing to pound into him, and Brendon was becoming overwhelmed with the many sensations coming from all around him. Brendon lost control of his words all together, was barely aware of the times he said Ryan’s name and had no idea how loud he actually was. All he knew was that he’d never felt anything this intense in his life. “Make me come, Ryan,” he said and got a whimper in response that could’ve been a distorted “Okay”, but Brendon wasn’t entirely sure. Point was, Ryan seemed to follow Brendon’s mandate as he not only quickened the pace of his hand but added a flick of the wrist that was driving Brendon crazy.

It did not take long for Brendon to come, bursts of light erupting behind his fallen eyelids as he spilled his load all over his stomach and Ryan’s hand. Ryan bent down to kiss Brendon, who was still in a daze, while continuing the in-and-out motion, though Ryan was getting sloppier and sloppier, and Brendon could tell that Ryan was very close.

With newfound determination, Brendon wanted Ryan to get off, wanted to see him unravel above him. He tilted his head up, and his lips met Ryan’s neck, which he bit and sucked to form more bruises. He mumbled against Ryan’s skin, telling Ryan just how hot he was, and for added effect, he grabbed onto Ryan’s ass to push him further in. Ryan’s groans grew steadily louder and deeper, until finally, Brendon got to witness the moment he’d wanted to see. Ryan’s eyes were shut tight, his mouth hanging open and a long, guttural moan rang through the air as he spilled into the condom inside of Brendon.

At last, Ryan stilled, collapsing onto Brendon as he was spent, and Brendon wrapped his arms almost protectively around the tired form above him. He wiped Ryan’s sweaty bangs from his face again, and Ryan looked up into Brendon’s face and kissed him. Their breathy pants reduced to deep breaths, and Ryan finally pulled out of Brendon, who felt empty without Ryan in him. Ryan took the condom off, tied it, and glanced around for a trash can. “Give it to me,” Brendon said, and once handed to him, he got up off the couch.

Brendon staggered a bit, unused to the aftermath of sex, and he heard Ryan chuckle lazily from the couch behind him. He threw it in the trash along with a tissue he used to wipe off his come and shut off the light before doddering back to the couch. He stopped and picked up a blanket that Spencer had set out on the arm of the couch, and then he mumbled to Ryan, “Move over.”

Ryan moved as Brendon lied down next to him. It was a tight fit, but both of them were relatively small. All it took was for their arms and legs to tangle around each other for them to lie comfortably enough on the couch. Brendon pulled the blanket around their naked, entwined bodies and placed a soft kiss on Ryan’s lips before mumbling a tired “Goodnight”.. Soon, Brendon was asleep, completely exhausted and happy, so much so that he didn’t hear Ryan whisper a quiet “Goodnight” back.



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The morning dawned, and Brendon was the first of the two to wake up. It took a minute to realize where he was and who exactly he was wrapped around, but once he did, he grinned at the sleeping man beside him. He examined everything in the blue gray light of the morning, from the fresh hickeys on Ryan’s neck and collarbone to the way his eyelashes casted shadows on his full cheeks. Ryan was stunning, and Brendon prayed that he wouldn’t rush out of the apartment and out of his life the minute he woke up.

The night before was more than just awesome, mind-blowing sex. It was more than Brendon figuring out that, yeah, he liked it up the ass. He’d never experienced sex that way before. Brendon had found a side to himself that he had no idea was there. And Ryan. He saw something in Ryan, something more real than anything he’d ever known of.

Soon, however, he felt Ryan’s fingers move against his waist, signaling his awakening. Ryan’s head moved against Brendon’s shoulder, and he tilted it to squint up in Brendon’s face before bringing his palm up to rub at his sleepy eyes. Ryan was starting to get up, but Brendon stopped him. “Wait a minute. It’s still early.”

Ryan sighed against Brendon’s temple. “Brendon, what are you doing?”

Brendon turned his head to face him, and he was shocked at the vulnerability Ryan was showing him. “What do you mean?”

He sighed again, and it evolved into a chuckle. “This got complicated, didn’t it?”

“No, it didn’t,” Brendon said, leaning in and kissing Ryan softly. “Ryan, what was last night to you?”

He looked away, and Brendon brought his hand up to Ryan’s chin, tilting his head so that he faced him. Brendon’s eyes implored him to answer, and Ryan gave in. “It was…” He paused and then nodded with a smile. “Amazing. Fucking amazing.”

Ryan gave Brendon a kiss, and Brendon wrapped his arms around his neck to pull him in further. They broke apart, Brendon’s hands still on Ryan’s neck. “What was it to you?” Ryan asked.

“Clarity,” Brendon said at once. He knew Ryan wouldn’t ask for an explanation so he didn’t give one. “I think,” he said, changing the subject, “that we should get up and grab a shower and then go to breakfast before Spencer comes home to find us naked on his couch.”

Ryan snorted. “Breakfast?”

“You have to eat, right?” Brendon responded in a hopeful tone.

Ryan sighed but smiled at him. “Right.”



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Ryan had doused his buttered pancakes with syrup after pouring a ton of ketchup over his hash browns. “I’m starving,” he muttered as he cut into his breakfast. Brendon found it endearing, and he watched him for a moment before taking a sip of his tea and digging into his French toast. The two were at a diner down the street from Spencer’s apartment that boasted the best breakfast in the Upper West Side.

“You know,” Ryan said, “you never said what you were doing in New York.”

Brendon wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I needed a break from my life. I’m just here for a couple of days.” Ryan nodded understandingly. Brendon took another sip of his tea and then asked, “What about you? Are you from out here or Vegas?”

“Neither,” he answered. “I live in San Francisco. I just had a layover in Vegas.”

“Oh,” Brendon mumbled, and he couldn’t help but feel just a little bit sad at the information. “Then what are you doing in New York?”

“A friend of mine is showing some of my pieces in his gallery. The art show is tonight. I’m staying at a hotel a few blocks away.” He chuckled as he downed his coffee. “At least I’m supposed to.” Brendon took another sip of his tea, and Ryan eyed him carefully. “You want to come tonight?” Ryan asked.

Brendon grinned as this invitation meant something. It meant that Ryan didn’t want to just disappear on Brendon; he wanted to see him again. And Brendon really wanted to see Ryan again too. Not to mention that Ryan’s art fascinated him. “Yeah, sure,” he answered, voice low and soft.

Ryan smiled and took another bite out of his pancakes.



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“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” Spencer said with laughter in his voice, his fingers at his temples, staring up at Brendon’s animated face. “You and Ryan did what?”

“We had sex. On that couch,” he said, pointing at the sofa that Spencer sat on. Spencer promptly got off it and took a seat in the armchair adjacent to it. Brendon couldn’t keep the excitement from his voice as well as his eyebrows from shooting up into his hair.

Spencer broke down into a bout of laughter, and Brendon’s grin morphed to a frown. “Why is that so funny?”

He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye as he slowed his laughter to a chuckle. “Because you’ve got a fucking girlfriend and you and a dude just fucked.” Brendon rolled his eyes at the obviousness of the situation. “So what’d you think?” Spencer asked curiously.

“Spence,” Brendon said, unable to contain it any longer, “it was fucking mind-blowing.” Spencer raised his eyebrows. “Like, I had no idea it could be that way. That he could… that I could…” Brendon shook his head, unable to find the words.

Spencer snorted but composed himself after a look from Brendon. “Did you, um, or did he…?” Spencer gestured in what he hoped to be a descriptive enough manner to get the point across without actually saying it.

“He fucked me,” Brendon said casually, and it was strange to both him and Spencer that he was acting so casually about it. He should be freaking out, questioning his sexuality, worrying about what he was going to tell his girlfriend. But he wasn’t. It was as if he’d been seeing things cloudy all along and only now does everything feel like it made sense.

If Brendon was going to act casually about it, so was Spencer. “Aw, so my boy bottomed. Did you beg?”

This time, Brendon snorted. “Beg? Please. I fucking gave him orders. And he followed them.” He had no idea where the newfound confidence had come from, but he liked it.

Spencer nodded. “Wow. I’ve got to tell you, Brendon, I was worried about you for a while there.”

“What do you mean?” Brendon asked, calmly sitting down on the vacated couch.

“Do you really want to hear it because it might hurt your ego a little bit?”

He sighed. “Just say it, Spence.”

“Okay. Well, when we were in college, one of your girlfriends, and I’m not going to tell you which one, but one of them came to me for advice once. I don’t know, maybe it’s because she knew I was gay, and I’m your friend. But she told me that you were pretty… boring in bed.” Spencer bit his lip, waiting for a reaction.

Brendon just sat and thought about his past relationships. And yeah, he could see that. Compared to the events of the previous night, it’d been pretty boring. Really boring. It had just been sex, and yeah, he’d get off, but it was different. It had all been routine, nothing remarkably exciting.

And like the sex, his relationships had all been routine, including his current one. Brendon was starting to see that he was with them not because he genuinely cared about them but because it was expected of him. He was supposed to have a girlfriend, and he was supposed to have sex with her. So that was what he did. And he’d tricked himself into thinking that that was as good as it got. Brendon had no idea how wrong he was.

Finally, Brendon scoffed. “I guess that’s fair.”

“So what are you going to do?” Spencer asked.

“About what?”

“Just… next. What are you going to do next? I mean, she’ll probably break up with you if you tell her that you cheated on her with some guy.”

Brendon laughed. “I’m going to break up with her.” Spencer gave a disbelieving look. “Spencer, I just had the most amazing night of my life. Do you really think that I could just… go back?”

“But you’ll break her heart.”

Brendon had to remind himself that Spencer had never seen him and his girlfriend together. It was hard to convey how loveless their relationship was. “The only thing that I’d break is her pride. I don’t think she really gives two shits about me, if you want my honest opinion.”

“Then why are you with her?” It was difficult for Spencer to grasp the idea of it. He was, after all, in a very loving relationship with Jon, so Brendon understood that he needed to explain.

“She was just… something to do.” Spencer snorted at the innuendo. “Not that way,” Brendon continued, giving him a playful hit. “I was just bored. And it was expected of me, you know. She’s pretty, so I thought, ‘Why the hell not?’ But now I know why the hell not. I just don’t want her.”

He gave Spencer a look. “She’s also really annoying and clingy. And pretty shallow.” Brendon nodded. “Yeah, I might just enjoy dumping her.” He paused. “Does that make me a bad person?”

Spencer laughed. “Maybe. But I’m just glad you finally grew some balls.” To this, Brendon hit him again and gave him the finger.

Part 2