I Kissed a Boy. And I Liked it.

Brendon doesn’t notice that Ryan’s avoiding him only because Brendon is kind of avoiding Ryan, too. Brendon still feels weird and awkward because of what happened the last time they were alone together while Ryan feels weird and awkward for the same reason, plus the whole jacking-off-to-Brendon-and-Shane thing the night before. Oh, god, he can’t even look at Brendon or Shane without it running through his mind and it makes him feel so weird. Brendon feels weird, too, and he doesn’t even know what happened, what Ryan did, but he can’t stop thinking about the fact that he made out with Ryan. Twice. One time, under no influence of anything at all!

So they hardly talk and avoid eye contact and any other contact all day long, and no one even notices because it’s really not even a big deal because no one else even knows anything and it’s not as if they’re being obvious that they’re avoiding each other. And onstage, nothing really matters. All awkward tension always disappears because onstage and offstage are two totally, completely different worlds.

So they make it until the end of the night with hardly speaking and hardly making any contact at all. They’re playing at the same exact venue the very next night, so they have nowhere to travel to. Which, of course, means actual beds and showers and room service and mini-bars! All of the bands are all very excited whenever it’s a hotel night.

“You know, Brendon and Shane only use one bed. Someone else could totally be using that other bed in their room,” Jon says, grabbing some stuff from his bunk to take into the hotel.

“No,” Shane says, shaking his head. “Nope. No one could…or should…use the other bed.” Brendon laughs, a few feet away and Ryan ignores the conversation.

“Dude, no. Greta could use the other bed because then it would be like all girls in one room!” Spencer laughs, and Brendon and Shane both roll their eyes, and Jon snorts a little bit, and Ryan continues to ignore the conversation.

“Yeah, but Greta doesn’t know that Shane and I are dating, smart one,” Brendon reminds Spencer with a smirk.

“Whatever, it was still a funny joke,” Spencer says.

“Do these rooms have mini-bars?” Ryan interrupts, desperately needing a positive answer to his question.

“Probably,” Jon answers him. “I mean, it’s a five star hotel. Businessmen and rock stars stay at five star hotels. Businessmen and rock stars need to drink a lot of alcohol. Five star hotels usually have mini-bars.”

“Wow. Great logic,” Spencer comments.

***

It’s close to four in the morning when Brendon’s cell phone rings. He has to untangle himself from Shane, who surprisingly doesn’t wake up, even though there’s a song from High School Musical blaring from Brendon’s cell phone.

“Hello?” he grumbles into the phone.

“Hey.”

“Ryan?” Brendon asks. He already knows it’s Ryan, though. ‘What I’ve Been Looking For’ is Ryan’s ringtone on Brendon’s phone. Ryan’s the only person in his phone assigned to that ringtone.

“Yeah.”

“Um,” Brendon says, sitting up and glancing at Shane, still sleeping. “What’s up?”

“What are you wearing?”

“Are you drunk?” Brendon asks, and Ryan laughs on the other end.

“Trashed. I wouldn’t have called you if I wasn’t. I’ve been avoiding you,” Ryan admits.

“Oh,” Brendon says, because it’s the only thing he can think of to say. He’s talked to Ryan when he’s drunk before, he knows that Ryan admits a lot of things when he’s drunk, but when Ryan’s drunk, Brendon’s usually drunk as well, but right now, Brendon is very much sober.

“I did something bad last night. But I can’t tell you. It’s a secret,” Ryan says.

“How bad? Did you murder someone?”

“Are you alone right now?” Ryan asks, ignoring Brendon’s question.

“No, I’m with Shane.”

“Yeah, but is he awake?”

“No.”

“So then you’re basically alone. I mean, I’m in the same room as Jon but he’s sleeping, so I consider myself alone, too.”

“Okay. Then, yeah, I’m alone. Why?” Brendon asks.

“What are you wearing?” Ryan asks for the second time.

“Um…. Nothing,” Brendon answers honestly, and he’s /blushing/, he can feel his face heating up, and he’s basically alone.

“Mmm. I’m so hard right now, Brendon,” Ryan says.

“What?” Brendon asks, not sure he heard him right, even though he definitely did. He glances at Shane, next to him in the bed again before standing up, walking towards the bathroom. He knows that Shane is asleep and that, even if he was awake, he wouldn’t be able to hear Ryan, but he still feels awkward having this conversation with Ryan while he’s sitting next to his boyfriend.

“Have I ever told you how pretty your mouth is, Brendon?” Ryan asks. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, lately. Your mouth, I mean. I like to imagine you sucking me off. I bet you can do really good things with your mouth.”

Brendon is almost in shock, closing himself in the bathroom, listening to what Ryan is saying.

“You’re not gonna remember any of this in the morning,” he tells him.

“You’re probably right. But fuck, Bren, I’m so horny. Please don’t hang up on me.”

“…I won’t,” Brendon says, very aware of the effect that Ryan’s words are having on his body.

“God, Brendon,” Ryan says, and his voice is hoarse, deeper than usual, and Brendon hardly has to even guess what Ryan is doing at that exact moment.

“Ryan, are you…?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says, and Brendon can’t help it as his own hands moves down, beginning to stroke himself. “I wish it was you touching me, Brendon. I want you to touch me and put your mouth on me and ride me. God, Bren, I want you so bad.”

God, fuck, Brendon’s knees are going weak and he drops down onto the closed lid of the toilet, his hand speeding up around his cock, listening to Ryan’s heavy breathing on the other end of the phone.

“Me too,” Brendon gets out in a soft whisper.

“Are you touching yourself, Bren?”

“Yeah.”

Brendon can’t believe he’s doing this. Is this phone sex? Because it seems like it. He’s never had phone sex before, never really understood the appeal of it, but shit. If this is phone sex, then he totally, completely gets it. He knows the appeal now. But shit, there’s the part of his brain that’s screaming out that he’s having phone sex with Ryan. While Shane is sleeping right outside the door and could easily wake up and hear him.

“I wanna know what you sound like when you come, Bren. I wanna know what you look like. Fuck, I bet you’re so hot.”

Brendon’s not sure what to say, so he just lets out a tiny whimper, eyes falling closed as he moves his hand.

“Fuck. I want to fuck you, Brendon,” Ryan says, and it almost makes Brendon come on the spot, but he doesn’t, he just lets out a moan because now he’s just that much closer to going over the edge.

“I want you to fuck me,” he responds, and he doesn’t even know how the words made their way through his mind and out his mouth, because he has no idea where they even came from. He’s in shock that he just said that, even if…it is the truth.

“I’m so close, Brendon. So…fucking close.”

“Me too.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ryan moans, and that’s all Brendon needs and he’s spilling over his hand, waves of pleasure rippling through his body, little sighs and moans falling from his mouth and then it’s over and he can hear Ryan’s heavy breathing on the other end and the whole situation suddenly strikes him as awkward as fuck and he doesn’t know what to do or say.

“That was…nice,” Ryan says.

“Yeah.”

“I’m fucking tired now.”

“Maybe you should get some sleep,” Brendon tells him. “You’ll probably be hung over tomorrow.”

“Maybe. Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’m gonna go to sleep now.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Ryan.”

“Night, Bren. We should do this again some time,” Ryan says, and then he hangs up, and Brendon is left with that suggestion and a quickly-drying mess on his hand and stomach.

What the fuck did he just do? He just had phone sex with Ryan. He just masturbated listening to Ryan masturbate over the phone. He told Ryan that he wanted him to fuck him.

He hopes to whatever god there is that Ryan doesn’t remember any of it in the morning. He hopes he was that drunk.

He cleans himself up with a washcloth, leaves it in the sink, and leaves the bathroom, and crawls back into bed with Shane.

“Where were you?” Shane asks, his voice groggy, his arm making its way around Brendon’s body.

“Um. Phone,” Brendon answers, hoping that Shane only just now woke up.

“Oh. Who called this late?”

“Ryan. Drunk-dialing. Hardly understood a word he said,” Brendon says, only half-lying, and Shane lets out a soft laugh, and then he’s asleep again, and Brendon’s mostly sure that he doesn’t have to worry about Shane overhearing anything.

He snuggles up against Shane’s body, closing his eyes, and he thinks about Ryan one last time before he drifts off to sleep.