Blu_Wolfe101

The Milk Fic. Credit to whomever wrote it. 
          
          I'm sorry. I hope you feel better. ily.

"Yeah, baby?"
          
          "I love you."
          
          "I love you, too, Ry." Brendon waited until he'd stopped shaking before he got up to turn out the lights and set the alarm on his phone. Then he crawled back into bed and held Ryan until he fall asleep before he got up to clean the bathroom and put the equipment back in their suitcase. He was only going to be running on two hours of sleep the next day, but it had been worth it.

Brendon bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling as he felt himself explode and then Ryan's wrist was flying as he moaned, low and whorish. Brendon could feel Ryan's come hit his stomach as the older boy started swearing, his ass clenching down on Brendon's cock as his orgasm tore through him, leaving him breathless and gasping for air. 
          
          Ryan collapsed prematurely, still feeling his orgasm rocking through him, but unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think. And then he felt Brendon pull out, leaving him empty and loose. He whimpered at the loss, turning and pressing his face into the boy's chest as he laid down beside Ryan in the bed.
          
          Brendon's arms came up, feeling Ryan's body trembling. "Baby, baby," he murmured. "Shhh. It's all right." He kissed the boy's temple, fingertips gently massaging feeling back into Ryan's muscles. "We're going to sleep now, okay? Early morning."
          
          Ryan whimpered, nodding, wondering if he'd be able to walk properly the next day. "Brenny?"

Brendon didn't need to be told twice, squeezing down on Ryan's neck, releasing after a moment to let him gasp for breath. Then his hand tightened again and they repeated the pattern until his boyfriend started shaking his head, not wanting to use the safe word, but wanting Brendon to know he'd had enough. His hand fisted in Ryan's hair then, squeezing tight enough to hurt, but not hard enough to pull the hair out. "Touch yourself," Brendon breathed.
          
          Ryan obeyed immediately, one of his hands falling from Brendon's neck to slip between them, wrapping around the base of his cock, stroking in a slow rhythm that contrasted with the thrusts. He didn't want to come yet, but he knew he didn't have a choice anyway. He'd come when Brendon told him. That was the rule.
          
          "Faster," Brendon growled, shifting his weight so he could press in deeper. "I want you close, Ry. Tell me when you're close."
          
          The boy nodded, quickening the speed of wrist obediently, letting his eyes shut for a moment before he opened them back up. Brendon liked to watch him, said he could see Ryan melt through his eyes when they were in bed. He felt the hand tighten in his hair slightly and he stopped moving. "Close," he choked out.
          
          Brendon smiled, letting Ryan wonder if he was going to have to hold it, have to wait, have to worry if he could. But it was late and they had to be up in six hours. "When you feel me come, you can," he said, nipping Ryan's bottom lip between his teeth. The thrusts got impossibly harder after that, but only for a moment.

The fingers slipped out and Brendon helped turned Ryan to his back, kissing him softly on the mouth, enjoying Ryan's tongue probing his mouth curiously, searching for the taste. He pulled away after a moment and the older boy gave an airy sort of sigh. Then he was between Ryan's legs, bending them at the knee and separating them, settling between the thighs before he pushed in, no lubricant and no warning.
          
          Ryan made a low noise in the back of his throat at the burn, the stretch. He'd been waiting for this. Brendon hadn't fucked him for a week, not properly. Toys and fingers and a fist, but not this. So simple, just them. Nothing artificial. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's neck, leaning up to kiss his neck. They looked like any other couple just then, he mused. No one would have been able to look at this scene and guess that Ryan had just been given a two quart enema or that the other day he'd been made to stand in the corner for an hour after Brendon had spanked him fifty times with a hairbrush.
          
          Brendon could tell Ryan was thinking and he angled his hips, shoving in roughly. When Ryan's eyes popped open even wider and he let out the tiny squeak, he knew he'd found the spot. All semblance of thought seemed to evaporate from Ryan's features as he just gave in and starting rocking against Brendon's hips, moaning. He reached for his boyfriend's hand, pressing the palm against his throat. "Please," he whispered.

Then his mouth was gone and Ryan's fingers twisted in the bed sheets knowing what was coming, the muscles in his body tensing in anticipation. Brendon's fingers pulled slowly, evenly, opening Ryan up just enough to slip his tongue in, licking around the edge of Ryan's entrance. He licked over his own fingers as he slowly added another digit from each hand, pulling Ryan more open, exposing him more. His tongue slipped in deeper and Ryan tried so hard not to push his ass back on Brendon's face.
          
          The younger boy's tongue started dipping in and out, slow and first, then quicker. Ryan was moaning, head thrown back, hips barely rocking. Brendon pulled his tongue out and his fingers, letting his lips press against the hole that was still open to the air. He began to suck and Ryan let out a stream of expletives that Brendon had never heard before. He let up on the pressure, his tongue slipping back inside once more, teasing, pulling out to trace around the inside.
          
          "Fuck me?" Ryan asked, voice high-pitched and uncertain.
          
          Brendon pulled off almost immediately, but didn't straighten up yet, pressing two fingers into Ryan abruptly, smirking at the boy's gasp. He slowly twisted them. "You want me to fuck you?" he asked as if he hadn't heard, voice casual.
          
          "Please, Brenny," the older boy returned desperately, pressing back against the fingers, his head falling into the pillows as he collapsed on his arms, support following to his elbows.

          They walked out to the hotel bedroom area and Brendon nodded silently, indicating Ryan should assume the position on the bed. "Back or . . . or knees?" 
          
          "Knees if they're not too sore."
          
          Ryan would take a lot more than sore knees for a rimjob, as he'd clearly demonstrated, so Brendon nodded his approval as the boy got on all fours on the bed. Ryan kept his head facing forward, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder and watch Brendon. The younger boy loved that, how he didn't have to order the boy do it. Ryan obeyed the unspoken command of his own accord.
          
          The bed sunk down as Brendon knelt behind Ryan, hands squeezing the boy's hips. Brendon leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Ryan's entrance, smiling when he heard the moan. His mouth opened, tongue slipping out, licking in broad, even strokes, knowing it would do nothing but tease Ryan, torturing him. And, truthfully, it was all Ryan could do to keep from pressing his ass back on Brendon's face while begging 'more more more'.
          
          Brendon sat up and leaned forward, pressing two fingers to Ryan's lips. The boy sucked them into his mouth without a word, his tongue sliding around the digits, trying not to get overeager, trying not to just beg Brendon to fuck him and start grinding his hips into the bed. When Brendon pulled his fingers from the boy's mouth, he leaned in for the kiss, smiling as he swallowed the moan from the intrusion of his fingers entering Ryan's hole while they were still kissing.

The boy was still crying, clinging desperately to Brendon as the first drops of the mixture began to slip out. And then, like always, he realized he really had no choice and just let go, sobbing harder as he heard the liquid falling into the toilet. For Brendon's part, he just held the boy, fingers running down his back, cooing soft sentiments to him. "Good boy, good job, Ry."
          
          Finally the noises slowed and Brendon took a step back, letting Ryan wipe and flush the toilet. They both washed their hands in the sink and Ryan blew his nose. "I'm sorry," he whispered, refusing to look at Brendon. "I . . . I didn't mean to . . . I know you won't hurt me."
          
          Brendon's cool fingers, still slightly wet from the water, slid under Ryan's chin, tilting the boy's face up to meet his eyes. "Thank you," he returned, leaning in and kissing him, soft at first, then harder, tongue slipping in. "Bed now," he added, unable to contain his smile as he felt Ryan's lips curve upward against his.
          

Brendon looked stern, frowning, shaking his head slightly. "Stop."
          
          Ryan cried harder, bringing his hands up to push at Brendon when the boy moved closer, but too submissive to actually to do it as the boy reached between his legs, fingers closing around the end of the plug. "Please," Ryan whispered again. "Please, Bren."
          
          The boy ignored him. "Don't let it go until I tell you to." He let Ryan's face fall into his shoulder. The boy was shaking from his choked sobs as Brendon slowly pulled the plug out. He set it on the counter next to the bowl he had mixed the milk and water in. One arm came up around Ryan. Despite his tears, the boy was still clenching, tighter than probably necessary. "Okay, go ahead."
          
          Ryan shook his head. "No." He cried harder when Brendon pressed his lips against the boy's temple. "Please."
          
          "Ryan. Now."

          "I think you can hold it for another couple of minutes." But Brendon let go of Ryan's hair and sat back slightly, just letting his hands run slowly up the boy's sides. The older boy was quiet, just a few whimpers leaving his mouth, but still squirming. Brendon let his hands slip lower until he was firmly squeezing Ryan's ass in both hands. "Almost, baby. Almost."
          
          There was another minute or so, Brendon's fingers skimming over the curve of Ryan's cheeks and the older boy trying not to lose anything, trying to keep his muscles tensedjust enough. "Okay." Brendon stood up, slowly, kissing Ryan on the back of the neck before stepping out of the tub. "Slowly," he warned the boy. "Don't lose anything, okay?" He held his hands out, letting Ryan take them as he stood and gingerly climbed out of the tub.
          
          Brendon lifted up the lid of the toilet seat and helped Ryan to sit. This was always when Ryan started to cry again. He hated it, hated how Brendon was there for the release. So humiliating, worse than threats of letting Spencer watch or having Pete fuck him that one time while Brendon took Polaroids. "Please, just . . . I can," Ryan said. "I'm fine. I can."