Fic: After Party (PATD, Brendon/OMC)
Mar. 16th, 2009 06:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emmuzkaFic: After Party
Author: Emmuzka
Genre and pairing:PATD, Brendon /OMC
Raiting: R
Warnings: Consent issues/non-con
Disclaimer: Not true in any way.
Summary: Brendon is completely sloshed, and ain't that great? He didn't know that it was actually this fun to be drunk. No wonder people do it so much.
The after party is just in its fullest and noisiest, in its highest point before the eventual drifting off. Ryan and Spencer are somewhere, and so is Brent, and he has the whole intention to exploit the situation. It's Brent who's going to be chewed on afterwards, though, because Brendon knows that Spencer and Ryan left Brent in charge of him.
Brendon is completely sloshed, and ain't that great? He didn't know that it was actually this fun to be drunk. No wonder people do it so much.
He is alone, the guy he was chatting with disappeared a moment ago and probably isn't going back, but he is at that state of intoxication where he can pretty much make his own fun. Another guy comes to him. He is maybe his age, maybe a few years older. He has a bleached, stylized hair and he is beautiful in that MySpace celebrity-way. Brendon has no idea who he is; this is kind of an open party despite being held in a private residence. He could be anyone.
"Hello, Brendon." The boy smiles at him and offers him a Red Bull, opened.
"Thanks." He takes the drink and tastes it. Doesn't taste like booze.
"You like that? That's to keep your energy up."
He chucks the rest of it down. "You think that I would need it?" Hey, he is flirting!
"I know you'll do."
The boy takes his face between his white, manicured hands and plants a wet, deep kiss on him.
"Let's find a place a tid bit more private." He takes Brendon’s hand and leads him deeper in the house.
Brendon follows, and so does this another guy, small and thin and wearing the same kind of carefully stylized air on him as the bleached boy does, like a second skin. Brendon doesn't mind, because hey, groupie sex! Sex, for free and without attachment, offered to him by beautiful, young people who want to be there.
He is lead to a small, dark room, or maybe it's just a really big closet. How appropriate. Brendon laughs out loud; everything feels so funny and nice right now. And an orgasm would be really nice, too. He wants to do it, just because he can. These people want him. He knows that his phone number, or a cell phone picture, would be better currency and more sought after than the actual sex with him, but what the hell, right. And phone numbers are for friends.
He lands his back against a wall in a thud. The first boy knees in front of him and earnestly unbuttons his jeans, like he is really into it. Brendon surely is, his dick is already so interested that the boy has to work for going to the gold. Finally he has Brendon's dick on his hand. He doesn't look up before he takes it and proceeds to the best blowjob Brendon has ever received. Not that there has been that many, and never really from a guy, but this is really great, really something.
Brendon involuntary slams his hand to the wall; his vision is going a bit blurry. The other guy followed them to the closet, and is now watching him getting head. It's sexy, maybe. The boy continues, and Brendon is getting nearer, and hey, the other guy is getting nearer, too. Close to touch.
After that, it all gets kinda blurry. There are people close, too close, and he tries to say hey time out, let's take a break, don't touch. Stop. But his mouth doesn't work, he can't get the words out. And after that, he remembers nothing.
It's the next morning, or a day, when he wakes up. Brendon hopes that there is at least a coffee and a Tylenol offered before the last of the guests are kicked out of the house, because he feels like shit. He digs, and thankfully, finds his phone from his jeans pocket and punches Spencer's number. He really needs a ride.
Author: Emmuzka
Genre and pairing:PATD, Brendon /OMC
Raiting: R
Warnings: Consent issues/non-con
Disclaimer: Not true in any way.
Summary: Brendon is completely sloshed, and ain't that great? He didn't know that it was actually this fun to be drunk. No wonder people do it so much.
The after party is just in its fullest and noisiest, in its highest point before the eventual drifting off. Ryan and Spencer are somewhere, and so is Brent, and he has the whole intention to exploit the situation. It's Brent who's going to be chewed on afterwards, though, because Brendon knows that Spencer and Ryan left Brent in charge of him.
Brendon is completely sloshed, and ain't that great? He didn't know that it was actually this fun to be drunk. No wonder people do it so much.
He is alone, the guy he was chatting with disappeared a moment ago and probably isn't going back, but he is at that state of intoxication where he can pretty much make his own fun. Another guy comes to him. He is maybe his age, maybe a few years older. He has a bleached, stylized hair and he is beautiful in that MySpace celebrity-way. Brendon has no idea who he is; this is kind of an open party despite being held in a private residence. He could be anyone.
"Hello, Brendon." The boy smiles at him and offers him a Red Bull, opened.
"Thanks." He takes the drink and tastes it. Doesn't taste like booze.
"You like that? That's to keep your energy up."
He chucks the rest of it down. "You think that I would need it?" Hey, he is flirting!
"I know you'll do."
The boy takes his face between his white, manicured hands and plants a wet, deep kiss on him.
"Let's find a place a tid bit more private." He takes Brendon’s hand and leads him deeper in the house.
Brendon follows, and so does this another guy, small and thin and wearing the same kind of carefully stylized air on him as the bleached boy does, like a second skin. Brendon doesn't mind, because hey, groupie sex! Sex, for free and without attachment, offered to him by beautiful, young people who want to be there.
He is lead to a small, dark room, or maybe it's just a really big closet. How appropriate. Brendon laughs out loud; everything feels so funny and nice right now. And an orgasm would be really nice, too. He wants to do it, just because he can. These people want him. He knows that his phone number, or a cell phone picture, would be better currency and more sought after than the actual sex with him, but what the hell, right. And phone numbers are for friends.
He lands his back against a wall in a thud. The first boy knees in front of him and earnestly unbuttons his jeans, like he is really into it. Brendon surely is, his dick is already so interested that the boy has to work for going to the gold. Finally he has Brendon's dick on his hand. He doesn't look up before he takes it and proceeds to the best blowjob Brendon has ever received. Not that there has been that many, and never really from a guy, but this is really great, really something.
Brendon involuntary slams his hand to the wall; his vision is going a bit blurry. The other guy followed them to the closet, and is now watching him getting head. It's sexy, maybe. The boy continues, and Brendon is getting nearer, and hey, the other guy is getting nearer, too. Close to touch.
After that, it all gets kinda blurry. There are people close, too close, and he tries to say hey time out, let's take a break, don't touch. Stop. But his mouth doesn't work, he can't get the words out. And after that, he remembers nothing.
It's the next morning, or a day, when he wakes up. Brendon hopes that there is at least a coffee and a Tylenol offered before the last of the guests are kicked out of the house, because he feels like shit. He digs, and thankfully, finds his phone from his jeans pocket and punches Spencer's number. He really needs a ride.
