Ryan didn't mean for this to happen. It was just supposed to be a couple of hours, maybe some booze, but he hadn't thought about tasting the cool beer on Brendon's tongue when he had come over.
At least, that's what Ryan pants as he breaks away from Brendon's mouth - that mouth that is so familiar that it almost aches that it's been years since he had last had Brendon like this. Brendon's eyes are blown and wide, his hair is already messy from Ryan's long fingers, and fuck, maybe Ryan did have this in mind when Brendon had called. Maybe he's been wanting this since it last happened.
He doesn't know why they ever stopped this.
Ryan kisses Brendon again, presses him down on the couch that Ryan's never seen in a living room that he's never been in before. So much has changed, but this hasn't. Brendon still arches up into Ryan as they kiss. He still kisses that much hungrier when Ryan tugs on his hair. He still feels like the he's the only thing that has ever made sense.
And it's terrifying, knowing that this could be it - that heated kisses on a stupid expensive-ass couch could be the last time that Ryan ever gets to touch Brendon. Ever gets to see him.
Ryan could fuck this up. It's likely that he will. He knows that they should talk about this, figure it out together, but Ryan's always been selfish, so he doesn't say anything. And he only pulls back far enough to get his hands down between them, fingers playing at the button to Brendon's jeans.
Fill: Panic. Brendon/Ryan
At least, that's what Ryan pants as he breaks away from Brendon's mouth - that mouth that is so familiar that it almost aches that it's been years since he had last had Brendon like this. Brendon's eyes are blown and wide, his hair is already messy from Ryan's long fingers, and fuck, maybe Ryan did have this in mind when Brendon had called. Maybe he's been wanting this since it last happened.
He doesn't know why they ever stopped this.
Ryan kisses Brendon again, presses him down on the couch that Ryan's never seen in a living room that he's never been in before. So much has changed, but this hasn't. Brendon still arches up into Ryan as they kiss. He still kisses that much hungrier when Ryan tugs on his hair. He still feels like the he's the only thing that has ever made sense.
And it's terrifying, knowing that this could be it - that heated kisses on a stupid expensive-ass couch could be the last time that Ryan ever gets to touch Brendon. Ever gets to see him.
Ryan could fuck this up. It's likely that he will. He knows that they should talk about this, figure it out together, but Ryan's always been selfish, so he doesn't say anything. And he only pulls back far enough to get his hands down between them, fingers playing at the button to Brendon's jeans.