warnings/enticements: Frank is a hot ass, Ryan Ross has a potty mouth, Brendon is flaily and Spencer is giggly. Beta'd by s0ckpupp3t because she loves me.
Brendon couldn’t believe it had actually gone this far. Like seriously. How was this his life? Who has paltry arguments about the merits of rhythm guitarists making out together and that it would be more awesome?
“It would be more awesome,” Frank had insisted. Looking completely and totally serious and staring at Brendon’s lips more than a lot.
Apparently, the answer to the original question dealt with Ryan Ross being an impossible ornery shit and starting the whole debate. And maybe to do with his scarves. Or paisley in general. And Spencer was not helping. At all. Spencer was just giggling. This was absolutely the last time he let Spencer get giggly drunk without him at an afterparty where My Chem showed up. Spencer was fired.
“You are ridiculous, Frank Iero,” Ryan said, formally.
“Your face,” Frank chirped, causing Brendon to snicker.
“Well, if it’s so true, prove it,” Ross challenged.
“Prove what?” Brendon asked, his brain temporarily derailing because it sound like Ryan just dared Frank Iero to kiss him. On his face and everything. Brendon doesn’t know what to do with himself all of a sudden. Because he wasn’t anywhere close to the cheeky confidence that Frank seemed to embody. Like at all. Not this inert sexiness that Frank just wore like a second skin. Brendon had to work at shit like that. He had to put it on like a costume before he walked on stage every night. He was okay with being a total dork, could not believe the darkened look that Frank had for Brendon and his mouth. Seriously.
Frank grinned like he could see and hear all of Brendon’s thoughts and simply stepped closer.
“Seriously?” Brendon asked, breathlessly, because Frank was right there. So close. Brendon just needed to tip his head down and they would touch.
“Yeah,” Frank said, licking his lips.
Brendon answered by closing the distance, his lips touching onto Frank’s chapped ones, wet from where his tongue had been. Brendon opened his mouth, encouraging and Frank sucked on his tongue, then tasted Brendon’s mouth. Brendon tasted beer and some sort of lingering cinnamon that could have been gum or maybe just the way Frank tasted. Shit, was Brendon moaning? He should maybe stop that.
Frank giggled and broke the kiss. He smiled at Brendon like he was amazing and a treasure he didn’t know he’d get.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Ryan stormed off, much to no one’s surprise.
“Huh,” Brendon managed, knowing that he was, indeed, grinning like an idiot and feeling his face blush.
“Damn,” Spencer breathed.
“Yeah,” Frank said, a little breathlessly and then kissed him again. Easier, deeper, this time, and with Brendon maybe grinding against Frank’s thigh a little.
“Frank, stop molesting the Panic kids,” Ray chided from across the room.
Frank broke the kiss to yell, “Maybe he was molesting me and I like it!” He gave Brendon a lewd wink and Brendon started laughing. Seriously. His life!
Frank/Brendon - Just a Shade of Green
Brendon couldn’t believe it had actually gone this far. Like seriously. How was this his life? Who has paltry arguments about the merits of rhythm guitarists making out together and that it would be more awesome?
“It would be more awesome,” Frank had insisted. Looking completely and totally serious and staring at Brendon’s lips more than a lot.
Apparently, the answer to the original question dealt with Ryan Ross being an impossible ornery shit and starting the whole debate. And maybe to do with his scarves. Or paisley in general. And Spencer was not helping. At all. Spencer was just giggling. This was absolutely the last time he let Spencer get giggly drunk without him at an afterparty where My Chem showed up. Spencer was fired.
“You are ridiculous, Frank Iero,” Ryan said, formally.
“Your face,” Frank chirped, causing Brendon to snicker.
“Well, if it’s so true, prove it,” Ross challenged.
“Prove what?” Brendon asked, his brain temporarily derailing because it sound like Ryan just dared Frank Iero to kiss him. On his face and everything. Brendon doesn’t know what to do with himself all of a sudden. Because he wasn’t anywhere close to the cheeky confidence that Frank seemed to embody. Like at all. Not this inert sexiness that Frank just wore like a second skin. Brendon had to work at shit like that. He had to put it on like a costume before he walked on stage every night. He was okay with being a total dork, could not believe the darkened look that Frank had for Brendon and his mouth. Seriously.
Frank grinned like he could see and hear all of Brendon’s thoughts and simply stepped closer.
“Seriously?” Brendon asked, breathlessly, because Frank was right there. So close. Brendon just needed to tip his head down and they would touch.
“Yeah,” Frank said, licking his lips.
Brendon answered by closing the distance, his lips touching onto Frank’s chapped ones, wet from where his tongue had been. Brendon opened his mouth, encouraging and Frank sucked on his tongue, then tasted Brendon’s mouth. Brendon tasted beer and some sort of lingering cinnamon that could have been gum or maybe just the way Frank tasted. Shit, was Brendon moaning? He should maybe stop that.
Frank giggled and broke the kiss. He smiled at Brendon like he was amazing and a treasure he didn’t know he’d get.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Ryan stormed off, much to no one’s surprise.
“Huh,” Brendon managed, knowing that he was, indeed, grinning like an idiot and feeling his face blush.
“Damn,” Spencer breathed.
“Yeah,” Frank said, a little breathlessly and then kissed him again. Easier, deeper, this time, and with Brendon maybe grinding against Frank’s thigh a little.
“Frank, stop molesting the Panic kids,” Ray chided from across the room.
Frank broke the kiss to yell, “Maybe he was molesting me and I like it!” He gave Brendon a lewd wink and Brendon started laughing. Seriously. His life!