FEVERISH [RYDEN] [REPOST]

THOU ART DECIEVED

Brendon enjoys black and white movies.

Really, Ryan does too- but there's a difference. Brendon likes the comedies, and Ryan likes the classics. Brendon likes the ones where the humour doesn't have a laugh track and Ryan likes the Shakespeares- where the men are unruggedly pretty and the pale pink on the ladies' dresses shine through despite the lack of colour.

They're watching Romeo and Juliet on Ryan's couch.

All of the lights in their flat are off except the TV- casting a soft greyscale sheen over the apartment- illuminating Brendon and Ryan tangled up in one another on the couch. Ryan's eyeliner is smeared, slightly, and his hair is still spiked up- It's hard to get some things out after applying them daily for months on end.

The ghost of makeup is still there- hard yet delicate lines, and on Brendon as well, but Brendon's a bit better at getting them off-

Brendon leans into Ryan.

"Hey, Brendon?"

"Yeah?"

Romeo and Juliet are kissing on the screen- a little bit more passionately than expected for a 1936 film- their elbows on a stone pedestal of sorts, their tongues slipping over each other's mouths.

"Do you want to have sex?"

Brendon falters for a minute, his head still pressed against Ryan's shoulder, the soft fabric moving up and down with Brendon's now uneven breaths.

"Sure."

Ryan slips down off the couch onto his knees rather smoothly, shifting in between Brendon's legs. Brendon's wearing a soft, black t-shirt- almost as tight on his chest as his jeans are on his thighs- and Ryan takes a moment to look up and appreciate him.

"Lemme get your belt."

"Mmkay."

The next moments are rather wordless as Ryan undoes it with his long, slender fingers- the callouses from the years of guitar playing moving lightly over the top of his apollo's belt- masterfully grazing over the top of Brendon's sharp bone.

"Imma take your jeans off."

"Mmkay."

There was no noise in the apartment except for the soft hush of the air conditioner and Romeo's monologue- occasionally interrupted by Brendon's sharp breaths.

"My lips, two blushing pilgrims,

ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

He finally pulled Brendon's skinny jeans all the way off- discarding them on the floor next to him and moved up, again, bowing his head over the top of Brendon's boxers, leaving a lingering kiss as he slowly worked the underwear down to the boy's ankles.

"Good pilgrim,

you do wrong your hand too much.

For saints have hands

that pilgrims' hands do touch-"

Brendon moved to turn the television off- silencing the actor on the screen- but was interrupted when his whole body shuddered in response to the mark that Ryan had just left on Brendon's right inner thigh.

"Fu-fuck, Ryan."

Brendon looked down, his eyes wide, and his gaze met Ryan's- causing both of their breaths to hitch in sequence.

"Put your legs on my shoulders."

"Wha- now?"

Ryan silenced him with a glance, forcing Brendon to instantly swing his legs up, Ryan sinking down on his now hard cock.