Eating Disorder- Ryden

10

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"No, don't do that," Ryan breathed, shifting and trying to lean away from Brendon's touch, "Feels weird."

"Good weird?" Brendon murmured into Ryan's skin, persistently continuing to further attend to his neck in the form of wet, audible kisses.

"Y—eah," Ryan panted, arching up into his touch, relaxing underneath him,  nodding and sounding this abrupt, breathy noise. "Yeah," he whispered, finalizing, tightly gripping onto Brendon's forearm, holding him strictly in place as his breathing hitched, bottom lip submerged beneath his teeth as he shut his eyes, letting out something that was somewhere inbetween a whine and a moan. This was all that they were doing; Brendon on top of him,  showering his neck with kisses, often nibbling and sucking, the both of them fully clothed, leaving him with this twinge of warmth pooling in the core of his stomach, which only seemed to cooperate with the feeling of Brendon's lips and teeth exploring his flushed skin, almost tortuously gentle, the build up of tension and corresponding nerves intensifying beyond the point that it was almost unbearable..Almost..fuck..

Brendon stopped, raising his head and looking down at him, clearly holding back a smile. "Ryan.. Did you just..?"

Ryan shook his head vigorously from side to side, a pale shade of pink defining his cheeks. "No.."

"Oh, my god, you did," Brendon accused, his mouth twisting into a smile as he chuckled, "I didn't even touch you and—just, in your jeans, just like that," he stated as if it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever noticed.

Ryan gave an eye roll, gently directing Brendon off of him and slowly sitting up and loosely crossing his arms over his chest, his face lit up with sheer embarrassment. He didn't even know how they'd gotten to that point, just that the whole stage-gay ordeal had been the origin. Regardless, he was absolutely fucking mortified as of now.

He dwelled in the comfort of silence for the longest time, embracing it, hiding behind it, until he looked up from his hands for Brendon to come into view. "What are we even doing?" He asked softly.

"Well, we both certainly aren't having premature orgasms-"

Ryan blinked blankly, eyebrows coming together to form a slight glare. Brendon then shut his mouth.

"No, like.." Ryan started, rubbing at his face as he turned, his legs hanging off the edge of the bunk. "What does that mean for-"

The door creaked open, Jon poking his head in through the small gap. "Hey, can you guys please fuck a little quiter?" he asked, "I can hear Ryan from outside."

Ryan's mouth dropped open, his glare intensifying as he reached behind him for a pillow, chucking it straight at him, it bouncing off of Jon's face as he raised an eyebrow as if expecting another, pulling the door slightly for it to act as some sort of potential shield.

"We were not fucking," Ryan said defensively.

They weren't!

That wasn't to say that he would completely rule it out, though..

Great, that totally didn't make him feel like a straight-up whore or anything.

"Whatever," Jon gave in, farther pushing the door open and stepping into the bus, stalking towards the table and flopping down into one of the available seats, sighing audibly. "Now we have a whole three days until the next show," he explained pointlessly, as if stating it for the sole purpose of just saying something.

"Where's Spence?" Brendon asked, standing and stretching, his neck popping loudly, making Ryan cringe. Jon claimed that he hadn't the foggiest idea before him and Brendon initiated a couple of card games; they'd asked Ryan from the beginning if he wanted to join, but he declined. He always lost, anyway.