orgasms and cheap thrills (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} sunday_porch) wrote,@ 2006-12-15 21:16:00 |
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Not the World's Most Masculine Man
Title: Not the World's Most Masculine Man
Author:jzbell
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: NC-17
Summary: "Admit it," Brendon said, leaning close and purring in Ryan's ear, "I'm pretty much the girl of your dreams."
Disclaimer: As likely as this seems, I'm not implying that it actually happened.
Notes: Genderswap AU = EW, HET. But also strap-ons! (Actually, for someone who claims to be terrified of het, there seems to be an awful lot of sex here. Um.)
When Brendon woke up as a girl, Ryan was just as amused as the rest of them.
"I'm sorry, Brendon," he said in between snickers, "but you're not even a cute girl. You look exactly the same."
It was true; Brendon's features hadn't really softened. His face was still a little too squarish, brow a little too heavy for him to be pretty. And sure, he had boobs, but from what Ryan could tell through the hoodie, they were really nothing to write home about. Girl-Brendon's best features, Ryan decided, were pretty much the same as when he was a boy: his mouth and his ass.
"Or should we call you Brenda?" Spencer was saying, and Ryan laughed some more.
Brendon turned a death glare on them. "I swear to fucking god, I will rip the balls off anyone who calls me Brenda." He whirled around, and Jon held up his hands in a gesture of innocence.
"You!" Brendon spat when he swung back to Ryan. Ryan raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together to stifle his laughter. "I don't know why you're laughing. If I don't have a dick, I can't exactly fuck you, can I?"
Ryan's grin vanished.
***
"I'm going shopping," Brendon announced. They were all sitting around their apartment trying to work on their new songs. Well, kind of trying. Mostly they were all watching Brendon pout. Ryan was still finding the entire situation amusing, even if Brendon was lacking in the cock department.
"Brendon, you've only been a girl for an hour. You have no idea how long this will last," Ryan reminded him. "Besides, your wardrobe consists entirely of girls' clothes already. You can't possibly need new ones."
"Fuck you, Ross," Brendon said loudly. "Don't tell a lady she can't go shopping. If I'm going to be a girl, I'm going to make the most of it and wear some fucking high heels."
At the mention of shoes, Spencer offered to drive.
***
Ryan was still sitting with Jon, guitars in hand but neglected since they were caught up discussing Brendon's, er, situation, when Brendon and Spencer returned. Brendon had apparently purchased one skirt, some underwear, and six pairs of shoes. Ryan gave Spencer a pointed look.
"What?" Spencer asked.
"You are not allowed to take the girl shopping ever again."
"No, but Ryan," Spencer protested, "wait 'til you see the boots we got...."
When Brendon came out of the bathroom five minutes later, Ryan could only gape. "You're not serious."
"What?" Brendon asked, strutting around the room.
"You look like a whore."
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Spencer told him.
"Spencer, he's wearing knee-high stiletto boots and a miniskirt. That's not even slutty. He looks like an honest-to-God hooker."
"I think it's hot," Jon piped up. He smiled up at Brendon. "Are those hard to walk in?"
Before Brendon could answer, Ryan said, "Okay, neither one of you are taking him shopping." He stalked over to Brendon and grabbed his arm.
"Ow, hey, watch it, I'm fragile!"
"You are not fragile, you moron." He led Brendon toward the bathroom door. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying this. Weren't you just bitching at us?" Ryan distinctly remembered bitching.
"That was before Spencer took me shopping. Look at how long my legs look!"
Ryan rolled his eyes. "Go put your jeans back on, we're going to go get you some decent clothes." He pushed Brendon through the door.
"But aren't we supposed to be, like, writing?" Jon asked meekly.
Ryan crossed his arms. "You and Spencer can write, I don't care. I can't fucking think with him parading around like a skank."
Spencer and Jon exchanged a look, but neither replied.
***
"You know, Ryan, you said it yourself. He might wake up perfectly normal tomorrow morning. Then what would you do with all that?" Spencer nodded at the pile of bags Ryan had dropped by the door.
"Says the one who let him buy six pairs of high heels. Fucker." Ryan rummaged around in the bags, pulling out a skirt. He fished for the tag, pinched one end in the fabric and gripped the other, giving a practiced jerk and yanking it off with a satisfying pop. He repeated the process with a shirt, and handed the clothes to Brendon, who was standing quietly behind him. About halfway through the trip, Brendon had finally figured out to just shut his mouth, and let Ryan shove him into dressing rooms with whatever frilly, pastel and off-white combinations he picked.
"Maybe that could be the theme to the next tour," Jon suggested helpfully. "A drag show." Ryan looked up, and honestly couldn't tell if he was serious.
***
"Ryan," Brendon whined, flopping down next to him. Ryan winced. Girl-Brendon's voice was still confident, although now confident mostly meant loud. He also still had very bony elbows. "I'm horny."
Ryan glanced over at him. "Okay? You're always horny."
"No, but." Brendon sighed. "It's like, now I'm a girl." He turned more fully toward Ryan's raised eyebrows. "I think you should fuck me."
"What? No!" Ryan gave him a slightly horrified look. Well, he hoped it was only slightly horrified. It might have been fully horrified, he wasn't quite sure.
Brendon pouted. He was wearing his red glasses, and had a little silver barrette in his hair. He looked silly. Or possibly cute, Ryan couldn't decide. He wondered where Brendon had gotten the barrette, as he definitely hadn't picked out any hair accessories.
"Why not?" Brendon asked.
Ryan blinked. "You don't have a dick."
"Well, no, but you do."
Ryan stared.
"Oh, come on, you used to sleep with girls."
"Used to," Ryan said, frowning.
"You're serious." Brendon sat up a little straighter. "You're really so gay now you won't even have sex with me? That's bullshit! You weren't always that gay."
"Fuck you," Ryan said with a shrug.
Brendon looked hopeful, and Ryan amended. "Fuck off. Besides, aren't you supposed to be sort of, like, freaked out right now? I seem to remember bitching."
Brendon rolled his eyes. "Come on, that was this morning. Then Spencer took me shopping, and I talked to Jon, and I'm better now. Well, I mean, except for the whole 'dude, where's my cock' thing, but still. Better enough to fuck."
"What did Jon say to you?"
"He told me that this happens to William all the time, and he always turns back within a day or two. It's not, like, permanent."
"William spontaneously grows girl parts? On a regular basis?" Ryan blinked, but he wasn't as surprised as he thought he ought to be. "I think I should be surprised, and yet."
Brendon grinned, "I know, right?" and okay, it was pretty cute. From this close, Ryan could see that his skin was maybe a little smoother than it used to be, kind of delicate. Ryan thought that was unfair. Brendon watched him looking for a minute, and slowly, his face sobered. "You really don't want to fuck me, do you?"
Ryan shook his head, and then shrugged again. "Not really, no."
Brendon frowned. "I hate you. Jerk."
"Bitch."
***
Brendon was still a girl the next morning, but hey, Ryan thought, at least he was dressed nicer, a cute skirt and striped kneesocks to go with his chunky heels. He bounded over when he noticed Ryan enter the kitchen.
Flinging his arms around Ryan's neck, he moaned pathetically, "I miss my dick!" He nuzzled into Ryan's collarbone, ducking his head more than usual because the heels made him taller, something which he'd noticed immediately and continued to point out every two minutes for the entirety of the previous evening. Ryan's hands slipped automatically to Brendon's hips. Soft hips, even. "Hey," Brendon said, sounding suddenly brighter. "You smell good."
"Your hormones are messing with your head," Ryan told him. He hadn't even showered yet.
"Actually," Jon said from startlingly close behind him, "you do smell pretty good. No vanilla, this time?"
Ryan gave him a look, ignoring whatever Brendon was about him smelling "like such a boy, Jesus, I just..." Jon smirked at him, and kindly plucked Brendon off. Ryan smiled gratefully.
"Come on, finish making my coffee, bitch," Jon said, but his voice was warm and affectionate.
Brendon stuck out his tongue. "Chauvinist pig," he declared, but walked back to the counter. "You want waffles or cereal, big boy?"
Jon leaned on the counter, and asked if there were any blueberry Eggos left in the box, winking at Ryan when Brendon wasn't looking.
***
A week later, Brendon was still a girl, Ryan was seriously horny, and they hadn't been getting any work done.
In short, everyone was miserable.
"You've got to do something, Ryan," Spencer was saying. "He's like the most annoying girl ever."
Jon nodded. "He is kind of needy."
"And he has the worst mood swings I've ever seen."
"Worse than when he was a guy."
"Worse than you!"
Ryan flipped them off.
"No, seriously," Spencer said. "He's the worst girl ever."
Brendon walked into the room. "Shut up, Ryan's totally a worse girl than me." He sank down onto the sofa, glaring.
"What?" Ryan spat.
"You're totally bitchier than I am, and you don't even have a uterus!"
"I am not."
"You are too."
"No, I'm not."
"You are!"
Ryan glared. "Well, if I am a girl, at least I'm prettier."
"My boobs are bigger."
"I don't need--wait, how is that even--"
Spencer, who had been watching the whole exchange impatiently, threw his hands up. "You guys cannot keep this up!"
"We really are getting behind," Jon noted.
"Fine," Ryan said, pulling out his phone.
"What are you doing?" Brendon asked sulkily, crossing his arms over his breasts.
"Who would you ask for advice on crazy shit like this, dumbass? I'm calling Pete."
Pete picked up, and Ryan said, "I've got a problem."
"Writer's block?" Pete asked sagely.
"No--" Ryan started, but Brendon cut him off, yelling, "my boyfriend won't fuck me!" right at Ryan's ear.
"Ow, fuck," Ryan said, pushing Brendon off. "I'm not your boyfriend."
"You were when I had a dick," Brendon grumbled.
"Was that Brendon?" Pete asked. "He sounds weird."
"That's because he's kind of a girl right now."
"Right now?"
Ryan sighed. "Pete, seriously. I mean, really. Like what happens to Beckett, I guess. He just woke up a girl. Jon said it's not permanent, but it's lasted longer than he can remember with Bill, and we can't take it anymore, so."
"Wait." Pete paused. "Didn't Jon tell you how to change him back?"
Ryan frowned. "No, he. How?"
"Someone's just got to fuck him. I mean, you really have to wear him out, because he won't change back unless you're both asleep, weird, I know, but yeah. Totally works." He paused again. "A fucking week Ryan? You're honestly that gay?"
"Fuck off, I just didn't feel like it, it's fucking weird, okay?" He was pouting now, but he didn't really care.
"Well, go fuck him--her, whatever--now, and he'll change back, and you guys can get back to work and everything will be fine."
Ryan didn't respond.
"Ryan, dude?"
"Yeah, it's just..."
"Holy shit, Ryan. Look, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure a vagina isn't going to kill you."
"Fuck you," Ryan said.
"No, but really, is it that much of an issue? You told me you were 'very bisexual.' What happened to the 'very'? Hell, what happened to the 'bi-'?"
"God, Brendon's the one who turned into a motherfucking girl, why does this have to be about my deep, internal struggle with my sexuality?! Maybe I'm just freaked that my boyfriend woke up without a dick."
"You just said you weren't my boyfriend," Brendon muttered, looking genuinely confused.
Ryan ignored him.
"Yeah, maybe," Pete said. "And maybe you like having your ass fucked too much."
"Go to hell," Ryan replied.
"Admit it, you've been converted."
"You can't be converted. Maybe I was just... oh, nevermind." Ryan hung up on him.
"What did he say?" Brendon asked, a little earnest.
Ryan contemplated telling him he was stuck that way for all eternity, but Brendon was all wide eyes and Ryan decided it just wouldn't be fair. "Apparently you'll change back as soon as you have sex."
Brendon's eyes darkened, but before he could start ranting, Ryan turned to Jon. "How come you didn't tell us about that part?"
"I never--" Jon started, but cut himself off, eyes going wide with realization. "Oh, wait. Whoa."
Spencer snickered. "You fucked girl-William, didn't you?"
Jon stared at him, kind of stunned, and Brendon got up, crossing the room and flopping down in Jon's lap. "Jon, God hates me. My boyfriend hates me. I haven't had sex in a week. Just put me out of my misery."
"There, there," Jon said, running his hand up Brendon's back. "I don't hate you. If you want, I'll fuck you."
Brendon beamed, and Ryan decided to lock himself in his bedroom for the rest of the night.
***
Spencer glanced up when Ryan finally ventured out the next day. "If you're done with your sexuality crisis--"
"Fuck you, I'm not having a crisis--"
Spencer's eyes narrowed, and Ryan shut his mouth.
"There's a package for you. Overnight delivery, from Pete." He nodded toward the kitchen.
Brendon was sitting at the table, gazing at the box like a kid on Christmas Eve. He sat up straighter when Ryan walked in. He was still a girl.
"You didn't fuck Jon?" Ryan asked.
"Still have tits, don't I?"
Ryan sat down next to him. "Why?"
"He had to leave early, plans," Brendon replied vaguely. He stared at Ryan for a minute, and Ryan couldn't quite read his expression. Finally, Brendon glanced at the box. "Anyway, it has both of our names on it. Spencer said I couldn't open it 'til you were up."
"I'm up," Ryan said, and Brendon didn't have to be told twice. He ripped at the tape.
Inside was a slightly smaller, bright pink gift box. Brendon pulled the top off and reached in through the tissue paper.
"Oh," he said, pausing before he pulled his hand out. A second later, he slowly extracted a red dildo attached to a black harness.
"Oh," Ryan echoed. He looked up from the strap-on to meet Brendon's gaze. Brendon smiled. It was one of his more evil smiles, and Ryan's stomach fluttered.
"Well, what was--" but Ryan and Brendon brushed past Spencer without answering, heading right for Ryan's bedroom.
***
In the room, Ryan made a beeline for the bed, and while his back was turned, Brendon apparently stripped off his top and skirt. When Ryan leaned back into his pillows, he saw Brendon standing in the room in his bra and panties. Which were lavender, and lacy, and that was about as far as Ryan got before Brendon was reaching around and unhooking the bra.
Ryan was maybe a little straighter than he thought.
He blinked, mouth going a little dry, because that was an odd sight, Brendon with breasts. But okay, fine, his earlier assessment of Brendon's rack being less-than-fabulous? Not entirely accurate. They weren't huge, but they were shapely, and Ryan could appreciate that.
"You're staring at my boobs," Brendon said.
"You have boobs," Ryan replied.
"Are you going to pass out?" Brendon asked snidely, pushing his underpants down and kicking them away in a rather unladylike fashion.
Ryan shook his head, watching Brendon tug the straps up over his hips, sliding his fingers underneath to arrange them across his ass. "That doesn't look very comfortable," Ryan said, voice coming out a little meeker than he'd intended.
Brendon crossed to the bed, kneeling on the edge. "Shut up and suck my dick, Ross."
It was one command Ryan was familiar with, and he slid forward on the bed without question, licking over the silicone head before taking it in.
Brendon watched him carefully, rocking his hips but making no sound, and after just a moment, he stopped Ryan with a hand on his shoulder. "Okay, stop," he said, "this is just pissing me off that I can't feel it."
Ryan smirked and moved back.
"Strip," Brendon ordered, and Ryan's hands slipped to the hem of his t-shirt. By the time he finished getting his jeans off, Brendon had fished some lube out of the drawer. He tossed the tube at Ryan, and it landed beside him on the mattress.
"Fuck yourself," Brendon said simply, one hand reaching around the dildo to work between his own legs. Ryan didn't protest, just slicked his fingers and pushed two of them inside. His hips arched up off the bed and he bit back a moan.
Brendon made a sound that could almost pass for a whimper. "God, you want it," he said, breathless.
"Shit, just fuck me," Ryan said, working a third finger in. Brendon eyed him appreciatively for a second.
And then, moving over to settle between Ryan's thighs, Brendon yanked Ryan's hand away and positioned the dildo at his entrance. Ryan moaned out loud when Brendon started to sink it in, far too slowly to be polite. He thrust his hips a couple times, getting a feel for it, and Ryan pressed his head back, baring his throat.
Brendon grinned.
"Admit it," he said, leaning close and purring in Ryan's ear, "I'm pretty much the girl of your dreams." He thrust forward hard to drive home his point and Ryan made a rather pathetic choking sound.
It wasn't exactly the same as Brendon's actual cock, but it was close, and Brendon still knew what he was doing, knew how to adjust to make Ryan squirm.
Ryan squirmed. "Fuck, Brendon," he gasped, and Brendon didn't do anything different. "God, I--" Ryan tried, twisting his hips down, but Brendon kept going at the same pace, same angle, same depth.
Ryan forced his eyes all the way open. "Please," he said pointedly, and sure enough, Brendon smirked, leaning down and pumping faster, pushing in harder each time, just like Ryan wanted, and Ryan didn't even wait to see if Brendon would touch his dick, just grabbed it and started pumping.
He came embarrassingly soon, whole body clenching down hard as his cock jerked in his fist, streaking his stomach.
Brendon pulled out while Ryan panted, falling to the side and peeling the harness off. He eyed the dildo before tossing it aside, stretching out next to Ryan and trailing his fingers down through the come on Ryan's stomach. When they reached Ryan's cock he wrapped them around, and Ryan groaned. "Shit, Brendon, don't, it's."
Pouting, Brendon let go, reaching instead down between his own legs. "What about me?" he whined, and Ryan turned to look at him, blinking hazily. He didn't reply, and Brendon huffed, shifting.
Of course Brendon wasn't shy about touching himself, lying there with one hand teasing his breast and the other between his legs. Ryan watched, still kind of dazed, and Brendon arched into his own hand, making a small, desperate noise in his throat.
It was, okay, yeah, it was pretty hot. Ryan's breathing hadn't even returned to normal and he could feel himself flushing all over again. Shifting his hips a bit, he tried to blame it on the fact that it had been a fucking week.
But Brendon, of course, noticed his interest. He pulled his hand up from between his thighs and his fingertips came away glistening; he put them to Ryan's lips. Ryan licked, and Brendon looked very pleased. He ran his hand down Ryan's stomach, and Ryan groaned again, but felt his cock stirring nonetheless. Brendon's fingers slipped around, stroking carefully and squeezing. Ryan moaned.
"God, Ryan," Brendon whispered, and Ryan went still, eyes wide as he watched Brendon squirm. Brendon pushed himself up on the bed, kissing Ryan's collarbone, then his neck, the underside of his jaw, making these little breathy noises in between. He kept pulling, coaxing the blood back into Ryan's cock. Ryan moaned again, and flexed his hips.
"Fuck, please," Brendon panted, hot against his ear. "I need, please." Ryan shuddered.
***
"Please, Ryan," Brendon repeated, "please."
And that happened so rarely, Brendon fucking begging him, that Ryan jerked his chin in a quick nod, breathing, "yeah, yeah, okay."
Brendon grinned, and kissed him hard. He tasted different but kissed the same, Ryan realized, and then he was gone, returning to roll a condom down onto Ryan's cock. Ryan blinked, and Brendon straddled him.
"Oh my God," Brendon moaned as he sank down, really hot and wet and tighter than Ryan had been expecting. Brendon gave a little shiver and rolled his hips, fucking grinding against him, and Ryan gave a sharp gasp, unable to do much except just lie there while Brendon reached down to rub his clit.
Brendon lifted his hips a couple times, and then smirked down at Ryan. "You can touch me, you know," he said.
Ryan hesitated, but then reached up, cupping Brendon's breasts. He flicked a thumb over a nipple, pushing his pelvis up against Brendon and Brendon bit his lip. He went tense, then shuddered, and Ryan let his hands slide down to his hips.
"Did you just..." Ryan smiled.
Brendon took two quick breaths, rocking his hips. "Don't look so proud of yourself, that was all me. You're going to have to work harder than that."
He was grinning, though, a little flushed, and Ryan tightened his hands on his waist. He pushed Brendon and rolled them over, smirking down at the surprised look on Brendon's face. Brendon's legs came up around his waist and Ryan braced himself and thrust up, hard. "Okay," Ryan said. Brendon whimpered.
***
Ryan woke up to hands on his thighs and a voice saying, "Spread your legs."
Which he did, the response was kind of automatic, before he realized that hey, probably not the best impulse to have. He could feel a body between his legs and pressure at his ass and he forced his eyes open, the curse already on his lips, because he definitely didn't like the thought of being molested in his sleep.
"Goddammit, what the fuck--"
Except it was Brendon, just Brendon. "Oh, Jesus Christ, Brendon--" Well, not just Brendon, because, "um, where are your boobs?"
"They're gone, moron."
"So that means it worked? I mean, I guess--"
"God, would you just shut up? I want to enjoy this."
And before Ryan could protest, Brendon's cock was pushing into his ass, and Brendon was moaning, low, and Ryan really kind of liked that rough edge to it. Brendon thrust forward, and Ryan felt himself shiver, saw Brendon grin.
***
Brendon was having an animated discussion with Jon about sex as a girl and Ryan's prowess in bed. He kept saying things like "really good" and "fucking awesome," which would have been pretty cool to hear, except that he kept accompanying them with "suprisingly" and "I know, I was shocked too!"
Ryan frowned, on the phone with Pete, who was exclaiming excitedly. "No way, so the strap-on worked? Shit, Patrick said it wouldn't, but I figured it was worth a shot, so--"
"Um, yeah, about that," Ryan said, and Pete stopped talking. "It might not have been the strap-on."
Ryan had to pull the phone away from his ear because Pete's triumphant cry was so loud.
"Dude," Spencer said. "Did Pete just call you a stud?"
Ryan grimaced and looked at Brendon. "Please don't turn into a girl again."
Brendon shrugged. "I'll try? I'm keeping the underwear, though. Just in case."
Title: Not the World's Most Masculine Man
Author:
jzbellPairing: Brendon/Ryan
Rating: NC-17
Summary: "Admit it," Brendon said, leaning close and purring in Ryan's ear, "I'm pretty much the girl of your dreams."
Disclaimer: As likely as this seems, I'm not implying that it actually happened.
Notes: Genderswap AU = EW, HET. But also strap-ons! (Actually, for someone who claims to be terrified of het, there seems to be an awful lot of sex here. Um.)
When Brendon woke up as a girl, Ryan was just as amused as the rest of them.
"I'm sorry, Brendon," he said in between snickers, "but you're not even a cute girl. You look exactly the same."
It was true; Brendon's features hadn't really softened. His face was still a little too squarish, brow a little too heavy for him to be pretty. And sure, he had boobs, but from what Ryan could tell through the hoodie, they were really nothing to write home about. Girl-Brendon's best features, Ryan decided, were pretty much the same as when he was a boy: his mouth and his ass.
"Or should we call you Brenda?" Spencer was saying, and Ryan laughed some more.
Brendon turned a death glare on them. "I swear to fucking god, I will rip the balls off anyone who calls me Brenda." He whirled around, and Jon held up his hands in a gesture of innocence.
"You!" Brendon spat when he swung back to Ryan. Ryan raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together to stifle his laughter. "I don't know why you're laughing. If I don't have a dick, I can't exactly fuck you, can I?"
Ryan's grin vanished.
***
"I'm going shopping," Brendon announced. They were all sitting around their apartment trying to work on their new songs. Well, kind of trying. Mostly they were all watching Brendon pout. Ryan was still finding the entire situation amusing, even if Brendon was lacking in the cock department.
"Brendon, you've only been a girl for an hour. You have no idea how long this will last," Ryan reminded him. "Besides, your wardrobe consists entirely of girls' clothes already. You can't possibly need new ones."
"Fuck you, Ross," Brendon said loudly. "Don't tell a lady she can't go shopping. If I'm going to be a girl, I'm going to make the most of it and wear some fucking high heels."
At the mention of shoes, Spencer offered to drive.
***
Ryan was still sitting with Jon, guitars in hand but neglected since they were caught up discussing Brendon's, er, situation, when Brendon and Spencer returned. Brendon had apparently purchased one skirt, some underwear, and six pairs of shoes. Ryan gave Spencer a pointed look.
"What?" Spencer asked.
"You are not allowed to take the girl shopping ever again."
"No, but Ryan," Spencer protested, "wait 'til you see the boots we got...."
When Brendon came out of the bathroom five minutes later, Ryan could only gape. "You're not serious."
"What?" Brendon asked, strutting around the room.
"You look like a whore."
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Spencer told him.
"Spencer, he's wearing knee-high stiletto boots and a miniskirt. That's not even slutty. He looks like an honest-to-God hooker."
"I think it's hot," Jon piped up. He smiled up at Brendon. "Are those hard to walk in?"
Before Brendon could answer, Ryan said, "Okay, neither one of you are taking him shopping." He stalked over to Brendon and grabbed his arm.
"Ow, hey, watch it, I'm fragile!"
"You are not fragile, you moron." He led Brendon toward the bathroom door. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying this. Weren't you just bitching at us?" Ryan distinctly remembered bitching.
"That was before Spencer took me shopping. Look at how long my legs look!"
Ryan rolled his eyes. "Go put your jeans back on, we're going to go get you some decent clothes." He pushed Brendon through the door.
"But aren't we supposed to be, like, writing?" Jon asked meekly.
Ryan crossed his arms. "You and Spencer can write, I don't care. I can't fucking think with him parading around like a skank."
Spencer and Jon exchanged a look, but neither replied.
***
"You know, Ryan, you said it yourself. He might wake up perfectly normal tomorrow morning. Then what would you do with all that?" Spencer nodded at the pile of bags Ryan had dropped by the door.
"Says the one who let him buy six pairs of high heels. Fucker." Ryan rummaged around in the bags, pulling out a skirt. He fished for the tag, pinched one end in the fabric and gripped the other, giving a practiced jerk and yanking it off with a satisfying pop. He repeated the process with a shirt, and handed the clothes to Brendon, who was standing quietly behind him. About halfway through the trip, Brendon had finally figured out to just shut his mouth, and let Ryan shove him into dressing rooms with whatever frilly, pastel and off-white combinations he picked.
"Maybe that could be the theme to the next tour," Jon suggested helpfully. "A drag show." Ryan looked up, and honestly couldn't tell if he was serious.
***
"Ryan," Brendon whined, flopping down next to him. Ryan winced. Girl-Brendon's voice was still confident, although now confident mostly meant loud. He also still had very bony elbows. "I'm horny."
Ryan glanced over at him. "Okay? You're always horny."
"No, but." Brendon sighed. "It's like, now I'm a girl." He turned more fully toward Ryan's raised eyebrows. "I think you should fuck me."
"What? No!" Ryan gave him a slightly horrified look. Well, he hoped it was only slightly horrified. It might have been fully horrified, he wasn't quite sure.
Brendon pouted. He was wearing his red glasses, and had a little silver barrette in his hair. He looked silly. Or possibly cute, Ryan couldn't decide. He wondered where Brendon had gotten the barrette, as he definitely hadn't picked out any hair accessories.
"Why not?" Brendon asked.
Ryan blinked. "You don't have a dick."
"Well, no, but you do."
Ryan stared.
"Oh, come on, you used to sleep with girls."
"Used to," Ryan said, frowning.
"You're serious." Brendon sat up a little straighter. "You're really so gay now you won't even have sex with me? That's bullshit! You weren't always that gay."
"Fuck you," Ryan said with a shrug.
Brendon looked hopeful, and Ryan amended. "Fuck off. Besides, aren't you supposed to be sort of, like, freaked out right now? I seem to remember bitching."
Brendon rolled his eyes. "Come on, that was this morning. Then Spencer took me shopping, and I talked to Jon, and I'm better now. Well, I mean, except for the whole 'dude, where's my cock' thing, but still. Better enough to fuck."
"What did Jon say to you?"
"He told me that this happens to William all the time, and he always turns back within a day or two. It's not, like, permanent."
"William spontaneously grows girl parts? On a regular basis?" Ryan blinked, but he wasn't as surprised as he thought he ought to be. "I think I should be surprised, and yet."
Brendon grinned, "I know, right?" and okay, it was pretty cute. From this close, Ryan could see that his skin was maybe a little smoother than it used to be, kind of delicate. Ryan thought that was unfair. Brendon watched him looking for a minute, and slowly, his face sobered. "You really don't want to fuck me, do you?"
Ryan shook his head, and then shrugged again. "Not really, no."
Brendon frowned. "I hate you. Jerk."
"Bitch."
***
Brendon was still a girl the next morning, but hey, Ryan thought, at least he was dressed nicer, a cute skirt and striped kneesocks to go with his chunky heels. He bounded over when he noticed Ryan enter the kitchen.
Flinging his arms around Ryan's neck, he moaned pathetically, "I miss my dick!" He nuzzled into Ryan's collarbone, ducking his head more than usual because the heels made him taller, something which he'd noticed immediately and continued to point out every two minutes for the entirety of the previous evening. Ryan's hands slipped automatically to Brendon's hips. Soft hips, even. "Hey," Brendon said, sounding suddenly brighter. "You smell good."
"Your hormones are messing with your head," Ryan told him. He hadn't even showered yet.
"Actually," Jon said from startlingly close behind him, "you do smell pretty good. No vanilla, this time?"
Ryan gave him a look, ignoring whatever Brendon was about him smelling "like such a boy, Jesus, I just..." Jon smirked at him, and kindly plucked Brendon off. Ryan smiled gratefully.
"Come on, finish making my coffee, bitch," Jon said, but his voice was warm and affectionate.
Brendon stuck out his tongue. "Chauvinist pig," he declared, but walked back to the counter. "You want waffles or cereal, big boy?"
Jon leaned on the counter, and asked if there were any blueberry Eggos left in the box, winking at Ryan when Brendon wasn't looking.
***
A week later, Brendon was still a girl, Ryan was seriously horny, and they hadn't been getting any work done.
In short, everyone was miserable.
"You've got to do something, Ryan," Spencer was saying. "He's like the most annoying girl ever."
Jon nodded. "He is kind of needy."
"And he has the worst mood swings I've ever seen."
"Worse than when he was a guy."
"Worse than you!"
Ryan flipped them off.
"No, seriously," Spencer said. "He's the worst girl ever."
Brendon walked into the room. "Shut up, Ryan's totally a worse girl than me." He sank down onto the sofa, glaring.
"What?" Ryan spat.
"You're totally bitchier than I am, and you don't even have a uterus!"
"I am not."
"You are too."
"No, I'm not."
"You are!"
Ryan glared. "Well, if I am a girl, at least I'm prettier."
"My boobs are bigger."
"I don't need--wait, how is that even--"
Spencer, who had been watching the whole exchange impatiently, threw his hands up. "You guys cannot keep this up!"
"We really are getting behind," Jon noted.
"Fine," Ryan said, pulling out his phone.
"What are you doing?" Brendon asked sulkily, crossing his arms over his breasts.
"Who would you ask for advice on crazy shit like this, dumbass? I'm calling Pete."
Pete picked up, and Ryan said, "I've got a problem."
"Writer's block?" Pete asked sagely.
"No--" Ryan started, but Brendon cut him off, yelling, "my boyfriend won't fuck me!" right at Ryan's ear.
"Ow, fuck," Ryan said, pushing Brendon off. "I'm not your boyfriend."
"You were when I had a dick," Brendon grumbled.
"Was that Brendon?" Pete asked. "He sounds weird."
"That's because he's kind of a girl right now."
"Right now?"
Ryan sighed. "Pete, seriously. I mean, really. Like what happens to Beckett, I guess. He just woke up a girl. Jon said it's not permanent, but it's lasted longer than he can remember with Bill, and we can't take it anymore, so."
"Wait." Pete paused. "Didn't Jon tell you how to change him back?"
Ryan frowned. "No, he. How?"
"Someone's just got to fuck him. I mean, you really have to wear him out, because he won't change back unless you're both asleep, weird, I know, but yeah. Totally works." He paused again. "A fucking week Ryan? You're honestly that gay?"
"Fuck off, I just didn't feel like it, it's fucking weird, okay?" He was pouting now, but he didn't really care.
"Well, go fuck him--her, whatever--now, and he'll change back, and you guys can get back to work and everything will be fine."
Ryan didn't respond.
"Ryan, dude?"
"Yeah, it's just..."
"Holy shit, Ryan. Look, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure a vagina isn't going to kill you."
"Fuck you," Ryan said.
"No, but really, is it that much of an issue? You told me you were 'very bisexual.' What happened to the 'very'? Hell, what happened to the 'bi-'?"
"God, Brendon's the one who turned into a motherfucking girl, why does this have to be about my deep, internal struggle with my sexuality?! Maybe I'm just freaked that my boyfriend woke up without a dick."
"You just said you weren't my boyfriend," Brendon muttered, looking genuinely confused.
Ryan ignored him.
"Yeah, maybe," Pete said. "And maybe you like having your ass fucked too much."
"Go to hell," Ryan replied.
"Admit it, you've been converted."
"You can't be converted. Maybe I was just... oh, nevermind." Ryan hung up on him.
"What did he say?" Brendon asked, a little earnest.
Ryan contemplated telling him he was stuck that way for all eternity, but Brendon was all wide eyes and Ryan decided it just wouldn't be fair. "Apparently you'll change back as soon as you have sex."
Brendon's eyes darkened, but before he could start ranting, Ryan turned to Jon. "How come you didn't tell us about that part?"
"I never--" Jon started, but cut himself off, eyes going wide with realization. "Oh, wait. Whoa."
Spencer snickered. "You fucked girl-William, didn't you?"
Jon stared at him, kind of stunned, and Brendon got up, crossing the room and flopping down in Jon's lap. "Jon, God hates me. My boyfriend hates me. I haven't had sex in a week. Just put me out of my misery."
"There, there," Jon said, running his hand up Brendon's back. "I don't hate you. If you want, I'll fuck you."
Brendon beamed, and Ryan decided to lock himself in his bedroom for the rest of the night.
***
Spencer glanced up when Ryan finally ventured out the next day. "If you're done with your sexuality crisis--"
"Fuck you, I'm not having a crisis--"
Spencer's eyes narrowed, and Ryan shut his mouth.
"There's a package for you. Overnight delivery, from Pete." He nodded toward the kitchen.
Brendon was sitting at the table, gazing at the box like a kid on Christmas Eve. He sat up straighter when Ryan walked in. He was still a girl.
"You didn't fuck Jon?" Ryan asked.
"Still have tits, don't I?"
Ryan sat down next to him. "Why?"
"He had to leave early, plans," Brendon replied vaguely. He stared at Ryan for a minute, and Ryan couldn't quite read his expression. Finally, Brendon glanced at the box. "Anyway, it has both of our names on it. Spencer said I couldn't open it 'til you were up."
"I'm up," Ryan said, and Brendon didn't have to be told twice. He ripped at the tape.
Inside was a slightly smaller, bright pink gift box. Brendon pulled the top off and reached in through the tissue paper.
"Oh," he said, pausing before he pulled his hand out. A second later, he slowly extracted a red dildo attached to a black harness.
"Oh," Ryan echoed. He looked up from the strap-on to meet Brendon's gaze. Brendon smiled. It was one of his more evil smiles, and Ryan's stomach fluttered.
"Well, what was--" but Ryan and Brendon brushed past Spencer without answering, heading right for Ryan's bedroom.
***
In the room, Ryan made a beeline for the bed, and while his back was turned, Brendon apparently stripped off his top and skirt. When Ryan leaned back into his pillows, he saw Brendon standing in the room in his bra and panties. Which were lavender, and lacy, and that was about as far as Ryan got before Brendon was reaching around and unhooking the bra.
Ryan was maybe a little straighter than he thought.
He blinked, mouth going a little dry, because that was an odd sight, Brendon with breasts. But okay, fine, his earlier assessment of Brendon's rack being less-than-fabulous? Not entirely accurate. They weren't huge, but they were shapely, and Ryan could appreciate that.
"You're staring at my boobs," Brendon said.
"You have boobs," Ryan replied.
"Are you going to pass out?" Brendon asked snidely, pushing his underpants down and kicking them away in a rather unladylike fashion.
Ryan shook his head, watching Brendon tug the straps up over his hips, sliding his fingers underneath to arrange them across his ass. "That doesn't look very comfortable," Ryan said, voice coming out a little meeker than he'd intended.
Brendon crossed to the bed, kneeling on the edge. "Shut up and suck my dick, Ross."
It was one command Ryan was familiar with, and he slid forward on the bed without question, licking over the silicone head before taking it in.
Brendon watched him carefully, rocking his hips but making no sound, and after just a moment, he stopped Ryan with a hand on his shoulder. "Okay, stop," he said, "this is just pissing me off that I can't feel it."
Ryan smirked and moved back.
"Strip," Brendon ordered, and Ryan's hands slipped to the hem of his t-shirt. By the time he finished getting his jeans off, Brendon had fished some lube out of the drawer. He tossed the tube at Ryan, and it landed beside him on the mattress.
"Fuck yourself," Brendon said simply, one hand reaching around the dildo to work between his own legs. Ryan didn't protest, just slicked his fingers and pushed two of them inside. His hips arched up off the bed and he bit back a moan.
Brendon made a sound that could almost pass for a whimper. "God, you want it," he said, breathless.
"Shit, just fuck me," Ryan said, working a third finger in. Brendon eyed him appreciatively for a second.
And then, moving over to settle between Ryan's thighs, Brendon yanked Ryan's hand away and positioned the dildo at his entrance. Ryan moaned out loud when Brendon started to sink it in, far too slowly to be polite. He thrust his hips a couple times, getting a feel for it, and Ryan pressed his head back, baring his throat.
Brendon grinned.
"Admit it," he said, leaning close and purring in Ryan's ear, "I'm pretty much the girl of your dreams." He thrust forward hard to drive home his point and Ryan made a rather pathetic choking sound.
It wasn't exactly the same as Brendon's actual cock, but it was close, and Brendon still knew what he was doing, knew how to adjust to make Ryan squirm.
Ryan squirmed. "Fuck, Brendon," he gasped, and Brendon didn't do anything different. "God, I--" Ryan tried, twisting his hips down, but Brendon kept going at the same pace, same angle, same depth.
Ryan forced his eyes all the way open. "Please," he said pointedly, and sure enough, Brendon smirked, leaning down and pumping faster, pushing in harder each time, just like Ryan wanted, and Ryan didn't even wait to see if Brendon would touch his dick, just grabbed it and started pumping.
He came embarrassingly soon, whole body clenching down hard as his cock jerked in his fist, streaking his stomach.
Brendon pulled out while Ryan panted, falling to the side and peeling the harness off. He eyed the dildo before tossing it aside, stretching out next to Ryan and trailing his fingers down through the come on Ryan's stomach. When they reached Ryan's cock he wrapped them around, and Ryan groaned. "Shit, Brendon, don't, it's."
Pouting, Brendon let go, reaching instead down between his own legs. "What about me?" he whined, and Ryan turned to look at him, blinking hazily. He didn't reply, and Brendon huffed, shifting.
Of course Brendon wasn't shy about touching himself, lying there with one hand teasing his breast and the other between his legs. Ryan watched, still kind of dazed, and Brendon arched into his own hand, making a small, desperate noise in his throat.
It was, okay, yeah, it was pretty hot. Ryan's breathing hadn't even returned to normal and he could feel himself flushing all over again. Shifting his hips a bit, he tried to blame it on the fact that it had been a fucking week.
But Brendon, of course, noticed his interest. He pulled his hand up from between his thighs and his fingertips came away glistening; he put them to Ryan's lips. Ryan licked, and Brendon looked very pleased. He ran his hand down Ryan's stomach, and Ryan groaned again, but felt his cock stirring nonetheless. Brendon's fingers slipped around, stroking carefully and squeezing. Ryan moaned.
"God, Ryan," Brendon whispered, and Ryan went still, eyes wide as he watched Brendon squirm. Brendon pushed himself up on the bed, kissing Ryan's collarbone, then his neck, the underside of his jaw, making these little breathy noises in between. He kept pulling, coaxing the blood back into Ryan's cock. Ryan moaned again, and flexed his hips.
"Fuck, please," Brendon panted, hot against his ear. "I need, please." Ryan shuddered.
***
"Please, Ryan," Brendon repeated, "please."
And that happened so rarely, Brendon fucking begging him, that Ryan jerked his chin in a quick nod, breathing, "yeah, yeah, okay."
Brendon grinned, and kissed him hard. He tasted different but kissed the same, Ryan realized, and then he was gone, returning to roll a condom down onto Ryan's cock. Ryan blinked, and Brendon straddled him.
"Oh my God," Brendon moaned as he sank down, really hot and wet and tighter than Ryan had been expecting. Brendon gave a little shiver and rolled his hips, fucking grinding against him, and Ryan gave a sharp gasp, unable to do much except just lie there while Brendon reached down to rub his clit.
Brendon lifted his hips a couple times, and then smirked down at Ryan. "You can touch me, you know," he said.
Ryan hesitated, but then reached up, cupping Brendon's breasts. He flicked a thumb over a nipple, pushing his pelvis up against Brendon and Brendon bit his lip. He went tense, then shuddered, and Ryan let his hands slide down to his hips.
"Did you just..." Ryan smiled.
Brendon took two quick breaths, rocking his hips. "Don't look so proud of yourself, that was all me. You're going to have to work harder than that."
He was grinning, though, a little flushed, and Ryan tightened his hands on his waist. He pushed Brendon and rolled them over, smirking down at the surprised look on Brendon's face. Brendon's legs came up around his waist and Ryan braced himself and thrust up, hard. "Okay," Ryan said. Brendon whimpered.
***
Ryan woke up to hands on his thighs and a voice saying, "Spread your legs."
Which he did, the response was kind of automatic, before he realized that hey, probably not the best impulse to have. He could feel a body between his legs and pressure at his ass and he forced his eyes open, the curse already on his lips, because he definitely didn't like the thought of being molested in his sleep.
"Goddammit, what the fuck--"
Except it was Brendon, just Brendon. "Oh, Jesus Christ, Brendon--" Well, not just Brendon, because, "um, where are your boobs?"
"They're gone, moron."
"So that means it worked? I mean, I guess--"
"God, would you just shut up? I want to enjoy this."
And before Ryan could protest, Brendon's cock was pushing into his ass, and Brendon was moaning, low, and Ryan really kind of liked that rough edge to it. Brendon thrust forward, and Ryan felt himself shiver, saw Brendon grin.
***
Brendon was having an animated discussion with Jon about sex as a girl and Ryan's prowess in bed. He kept saying things like "really good" and "fucking awesome," which would have been pretty cool to hear, except that he kept accompanying them with "suprisingly" and "I know, I was shocked too!"
Ryan frowned, on the phone with Pete, who was exclaiming excitedly. "No way, so the strap-on worked? Shit, Patrick said it wouldn't, but I figured it was worth a shot, so--"
"Um, yeah, about that," Ryan said, and Pete stopped talking. "It might not have been the strap-on."
Ryan had to pull the phone away from his ear because Pete's triumphant cry was so loud.
"Dude," Spencer said. "Did Pete just call you a stud?"
Ryan grimaced and looked at Brendon. "Please don't turn into a girl again."
Brendon shrugged. "I'll try? I'm keeping the underwear, though. Just in case."
