At first, Brendon sinks into the kiss, not really registering what's happening. But then, after a few moments attached to Ryan, his eyes snap open and he steps back, breaking the kiss. He touches his lips, his heart beating rapidly as his eyes search Ryan's for an answer to a question he doesn't want to ask.

"Fuck -" Ryan whispers, biting his lower lip. "- I'm so sorry, I -"

He's cut off by Brendon pushing him forcefully against the wall, crashing their mouths together. It takes a second for Ryan to realise what's happening - Brendon's kissing me Brendon's kissing me Brendon's kissing me - but when he does, his hand goes to the back of Brendon's head, holding him close, the other one on his shoulder, fisting into his jacket.

Brendon's hands cup Ryan's face, his tongue sliding into the older man's mouth to languidly rub against his own. Ryan moans softly, his mind and body on overdrive, feeling like someone seeing the sun for the first time. He can taste alcohol and tobacco on Brendon's mouth, and something else that makes him so undoubtedly Brendon.

It doesn't take long for Brendon to feel Ryan's cock pressing against his leg through his jeans, and instead of deterring him like it should've, it only spurs him on further. He runs his hands up Ryan's chest, pushing his jacket off of his shoulders. Ryan moves his arms so that it can drop to the floor, followed by his t-shirt.

Brendon goes straight for Ryan's neck, kissing along his jawline before securing himself to a spot just above his collarbone - his sweet spot. Ryan's moans increase in pitch, and he swears loudly when Brendon bites down, sucking on the skin there.

"This is the worst idea we've ever had," Ryan chokes out, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto Brendon's shoulders. "We should stop."

"I don't think I want to stop. I don't think I can stop, even if I did want to," Brendon admits, pulling back and looking at him with those lustful eyes he's missed so damn much.

It's been over two years since Ryan has seen that look, and he didn't realise how much he'd missed it until now. Fuck, he's so turned on.

He grabs Brendon's hand and pulls him down the hallway towards his bedroom. Their footsteps aren't the smoothest, and Ryan stumbles into the door before opening it, but soon they're in, and they're back to kissing. It doesn't take long at all for them to shed the rest of their clothes, falling onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and sweat. Ryan's forgotten how good Brendon feels against him.

"All fours," Brendon whispers, and Ryan obliges, his heart beating fast in his chest.

He cries out when he feels Brendon's tongue at his asshole, and he quickly covers his mouth with his hand as he closes his eyes. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this. One of Ryan's - and therefore Brendon's - favourite things in the world is being eaten out, and since he and Brendon split up, he hasn't had his ass eaten once. Not even by Pete.

So to have Brendon giving his asshole all the attention it deserves now, after more than two years, feels divine.

He moans loudly as Brendon spreads his asscheeks, gripping them tight with both hands, his face pressed against his hole. It feels as though he's covered from head to toe in static electricity, his whole body shaking with pleasure. Brendon groans against Ryan, rubbing his thumb against Ryan's sensitive hole before moving away completely.

"If you're looking for lube," Ryan gasps, feeling his hair stick to his forehead. "It's in the top drawer."

He hears Brendon climb off the bed and he hears the drawer open and close. He tries to look around at Brendon as he kneels behind him once again, but he can't quite see over his shoulder. His arms are shaking, his upper body held up by his forearms, and his legs are shaking too, but for a different reason.

Brendon pops the cap on the lube and squirts a generous amount onto his fingers, adding some to Ryan's asshole for good measure. He feels Ryan's whole body tense up as he slides a finger, in up to the third knuckle, and he bites his lip, his cock twitching as Ryan hangs his head between his shoulders. The sounds that come out of Ryan's mouth as Brendon fingers him are obscene, and they only intensify when he adds another finger, and then a third, rendering Ryan a mess on the sheets.

"Fuck," Brendon whispers, curling his fingers inside of his ex-boyfriend. "I forgot how fucking good you look like this."

He pulls his fingers out and goes back in with his mouth. He can taste cherries as his tongue slips in easily, and the hand that's not gripping hold of Ryan's asscheek reaches around and wraps around Ryan's cock, stroking slowly.

"B, please," Ryan's hips rock back against Brendon's face, whimpers spilling from his lips like an overflowing glass, his mouth unable to contain them. "Please," he begs, "please fuck me."

Ryan Ross is many things, Brendon thinks to himself as he pulls back, lubing up his aching cock and getting ready to have sex with his ex-boyfriend. And a needy bottom is definitely one of them.

Ryan tries desperately to catch his breath as Brendon slides inside him, holding on tightly to Ryan's hips while he grips the sheets so hard he doesn't think his hands will be the same shape again. Once Brendon bottoms out, all thoughts of a slow pace go out the window as he snaps his hips, making Ryan moan loud enough to wake his neighbors if he's not careful.

A string of curses fall from Ryan's mouth as he's being fucked, the words closely followed by spit, which pools on the sheets below him. He's not sure he's going to last as long as he wants to, especially not with the way Brendon moans above him.

And then, just when Ryan thinks he's about to come, Brendon pulls out, sitting down on the bed and telling Ryan to sit on his lap facing him, his words jumbling together but somehow still understandable. Ryan does as he's told, wrapping his arms around Brendon's shoulders as he lowers himself down onto his cock, biting his lip hard as it fills him up.

Brendon's eyes are watering at how good Ryan feels around him, how hot and tight he is, and when Ryan begins to move his hips, fucking himself on Brendon's cock, he feels like he's about to pass out. He can't believe he forgot how good it feels to be with Ryan, even after all this time.

"Oh, fuck," Ryan cries out, beginning to chase his release as it slowly creeps up on him. He wraps his hands around his cock, jerking himself in time with his thrusts, his forehead pressed firmly against Brendon's. "Make me come, Brendon - please - I need - I need to -"

Brendon grips Ryan's ass tightly as he fucks into him, and Ryan's moans increase in pitch as he gets closer to his climax. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck - Ryan screws his eyes shut as his orgasm hits him, his voice hoarse. He comes all over his hand and he gasps for breath, looking up at Brendon, who kisses him fiercely.

"Ride my cock, baby," Brendon purrs, burying his face in the slick skin of Ryan's neck, holding on tightly to his hips as he rocks them. "That's it, there's a good boy...make me come, baby...make me come."

Ryan mewls at the overstimulation, but he wants to make Brendon feel good, so he wraps his arms around the younger's shoulders and rides his cock like the good boy he is. It doesn't take long for Brendon to come too, his low moan filling Ryan's ear as he fills him up.

Ryan lifts himself off of Brendon, breathing hard, and he flops onto the bed beside him, pulling him close. Brendon nuzzles his face into the back of Ryan's neck, taking in the scent of leather and sweat and something else, something sexy. Pheromones, probably. He murmurs something that Ryan, who's drifting off to sleep, a hangover already whispering at him, doesn't quite catch.

"Mm?" says Ryan, feeling the younger man's fingers running through his hair.

"I said, can I use your shower in the morning?" Brendon replies, kissing just behind his ear.

"Mm. Course you can."

And then Ryan's asleep, wrapped in the arms of his ex-boyfriend, a fact that he won't fully realise until he's sober.

~

When Ryan wakes a few hours later, he's cuddled close into Pete, whose arms are wrapped protectively around him. He smiles to himself, loving the feeling of waking up next to someone, the feeling overriding the hangover that's screaming at him. He's just falling back to sleep when his eyes snap open with the sudden realisation that -

Pete's in Minnesota.

Then who -?

Ryan looks up, holding his breath, and last night's alcohol threatens to resurface when he sees who's in bed with him.

"Brendon," he hisses, shaking his ex - oh god, I slept with my ex - to try and get him to wake. "Brendon!"

Brendon grumbles, stirring. "Dall, it's too -" his eyes open and he pales when he sees Ryan. He scrambles away from him, putting as much distance between them as possible, and he sits up, burying his face in his hands. "You're not Dallon."

"No, I'm not." Ryan rolls his eyes as he sits up too, folding his arms.

"What happened, Ryan?" Brendon looks up at him, his eyes wide and wet. "What the fuck did we do?"

"Well, judging by our state of undress, I'd say it's pretty obvious what we did."

"Fuck."

Ryan nods slowly, licking his lips. "Yeah, that sums it up."

Brendon feels his lips twitch at Ryan's comment, and he takes a deep breath. He lets it out slowly, and then he repeats the action before speaking. "It's fine. These things happen. We were drunk, it was an accident. It won't happen again." They lock eyes, and Brendon bites down on his lower lip. "Right?"

"Exactly." Ryan gets to his feet, his body thrumming at the way Brendon looks him up and down. "Feel free to use the shower if you want, I doubt you'll want to go home smelling like me"

Brendon laughs a little, running his hand through his messy hair. "Yeah, you're right. I will take a quick shower, if that's cool."

"Of course. Coffee?"

Brendon nods and Ryan leaves him to it, walking naked to the kitchen. He gets the coffee machine going and while he waits, he watches the rain drum against his window, trying to piece together the previous night's events.

He's sore, and he's sure there's dried come between his legs somewhere, but as to whether it's his or Brendon's, he has no idea. Maybe it's both.

He remembers offering Brendon a place to stay for the night, due to the fact that he was planning on staying at Frank's, and Frank usually doesn't stop drinking until about 6am. He checks the clock above the stove - 8am. Yeah, Frank would be just falling into bed right about now.

He hears the shower start, and a few seconds later the coffee's ready. He pours both himself and Brendon a mug, making it just the way he remembers Brendon liking it - a splash of milk, two and a half sugars.

He remembers coming back to the apartment with Brendon, and kissing him, but everything after that is fuzzy. He can't help but smile, though, as he takes a sip of his coffee. Take that, dickbag Dallon.

When the shower stops running, he takes the mugs into the bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Brendon comes in a few moments later in nothing but a towel, his wet hair slicked back and water rolling in droplets down his smooth chest. Ryan licks his lips and eyes him from over the rim of his coffee cup, his dick suddenly wide awake between his legs.

"If you were a single man," Ryan teases, biting his lip. "I'd let you rail me again."

Brendon rolls his eyes and turns away, dropping the towel so that he can dress, but Ryan doesn't miss the smile that flashes across the younger's face. "Yeah, well. I might be a single man, soon." he says, and it's Ryan's turn to roll his eyes.

"You're seriously not thinking of telling him, are you?" he asks, his eyes moving over the muscles moving in Brendon's back as he pulls his t-shirt back on.

"I have to, Ry." Brendon turns back to face him, beginning to towel-dry his hair. "He's my fiancé."

"Okay, but -" Ryan sets his coffee cup on the nightstand and points at Brendon. "Have you considered this: he doesn't need to know."

Brendon lets his arms fall, defeated. "I can't - I can't just not tell him."

Ryan holds out his hand for Brendon to take, and he does so, stepping forward and tangling his fingers with Ryan's. "You don't have to tell him everything, B. This was just a one-off, an accident. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Okay?" he gives Brendon's hand a squeeze and the younger man nods, biting his lower lip.

"Okay. You're right." he swallows heavily, accepting the mug of coffee that Ryan offers him and taking a big gulp. "I'd still better go, though. I need to grab my stuff from Frank's and at least make it look like I stayed there last night."

Ryan nods, drinking his own coffee. "I guess the good thing about Frank is that he's not likely to notice that you weren't there last night, probably because he's lying in between the Way brothers."

Brendon grimaces. "That's not an image I want in my head when I'm hungover." he moves away, slipping the last few items of clothing on. "Thanks, Ryan." He checks he's got everything before turning back to Ryan, who grins. "I guess I'll see you around?"

Ryan nods. "Yeah. Call me if you want. Or message me. Or not, it's up to you." he shrugs, feigning nonchalance, but part of him does want Brendon to call him, though he can't quite fathom why.

"I'll text you, at the very least." Brendon smiles, and he waves hesitantly. "Later."

Ryan waves back. "Bye, Brendon."

And then Brendon leaves, and for some reason, Ryan feels... empty. The feeling doesn't last long, though, because within ten minutes, Ryan's asleep.