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does this ball gag make me look fat?
brendon/ryan, r, 1000 wds

on [livejournal.com profile] anon_lovefest, someone prompted: "That's it. I'm buying everyone a sex toy for Christmas."

and [livejournal.com profile] sydneysconverse reponded with a fic that included: Brendon bounced a bright red and black ball gag from hand to hand as Ryan stared lustfully at him, a riding crop in his own hand.

and then i accidentally wrote a little thing.

"I don't know, I don't think I'll ever really have an opportunity to use it, but is it weird if I just think it's- I dunno, kinda cute?" Brendon says, rolling the bright red rubber bit in his fingers. "All round and like, shiny, like Rudolf's nose or something. I don't really get how people are supposed to be like, scared when they use it, you know?" He tugs the straps on either wide out flat and the ball wobbles up and down with the tension like the string on a guitar. "I almost want to put it in my mouth. It looks like. Like candy." He chuckles, eyeing it curiously.

Ryan doesn't say anything.

Brendon doesn't look up at him. He just suddenly feels weird about having said it, like Ryan would start thinking stuff about him that wasn't true, like Ryan would look at him and just know- Brendon doesn't know what. He sets his jaw and wraps the strap around his hand, looking at his lap. "Like, uh, it's not like, but y'know? I think that's a pretty normal thing to think. I bet that's why these things are so popular." He gives a warm chuckle, trying to mask his sudden nerves, and then accidentally looks up at Ryan and regrets it immediately.

Ryan's just. Staring at him.

Brendon stares back because looking away feels like it would be incriminating. "Don't you think?" he says, and Ryan's fingers uncurl in a way that would normally be imperceptible except for how right now they're the only part of either of their bodies that's moving. They're now brushing the leather-wrapped rod of the crop next to his lap.

"I don't know if I'd exactly call it normal, B," Ryan says, face blank, and Brendon looks back at his knees and drops the gag.

"Not, like, you know- you know?" he mutters, and Ryan waits a second and then says, "But it's not bad, either," before Brendon can think of an excuse to stammer about why him wanting to have that gag in his mouth is totally normal and not at all sexual.

As soon as Ryan says that, though, it's like there's a weight off his shoulders. Ryan says it's okay and it just suddenly feels okay, like with everything. It was how he came out to begin with- Ryan said he was bi and Brendon just went, "Oh?" and didn't know how to feel, because that was back in high school when he was sixteen and mostly Mormon and scared and Ryan was this glorious shining eyeliner-winged phoenix he was going to fly to stardom on, Ryan was his ticket out. And Ryan had just rolled his eyes and gone, "Yeah, like, everybody's bi now, like, whatever, everybody's a little bit gay. Duh," and Brendon had said, "Oh," and felt better and Ryan had said, "If- Like- It's okay if-" and then it had just been okay. And Brendon had exhaled everything in his lungs and said, "I- yeah," and Ryan had said "Okay," and it was just.


So he wanted to put a ball gag in his mouth and that was okay too, and he feels kinda stupid that he needs Ryan to tell him all this stuff but he really does sometimes. He really does.

"Oh," Brendon says.

“Does it fit in your mouth?” Ryan asks, and Brendon looks at him quizzically and then back at the ball and says, “What?” and Ryan says, “They come in different sizes, does it even fit?”

And Brendon looks at it and goes, “It looks mouth sized.”

And then god, does he ever want to put it in his mouth. He laughs and holds it up to his jaw, pushing it behind his teeth and holding the straps out on either side of his head, going, “-Uz –ish –all –ag –ake –ee –ook –ah?” with a comically sincere raised eyebrows. It fits. It- Oh, God, it fits and it stretches his jaw open and he’s taking the piss but he presses his tongue to the back and imagines having his mouth forced open like this. The only time his jaw is pinned open like this is when he’s sucking cock only there’s no cock in his mouth, just his tongue moving around, free but not. His tongue presses flat up the back and he pulls it out and repeats, “Does this ball gag make me look fat?”

Ryan’s not laughing.

Brendon looks down at it awkwardly. Ryan’s unreadable but Brendon feels weird like conversations about sex always are, even when everyone involved is pretending they’re not. Even if you’re both pretending the conversation isn’t about sex. He can see his own saliva beaded on the rubber on one side and he knows what he’s doing next time he gets a chance to whack off, oh God.

Ryan’s hand is around the crop now. It’s in his lap.

“Ooh, Ryan, don’t tease,” Brendon laughs as he sees it, and Ryan looks at him carefully and says, “I’m not.”

Brendon says, “Oh.”

With barely a twitch of his wrist, Ryan lifts the tip of the crop to trace down Brendon’s jaw and Brendon gets goosebumps that end at his dick.

“Put that gag back in, Brendon,” Ryan says seriously, and Brendon’s hands feel suddenly numb as he lifts the rubber to his lips and tastes it again.

“Stand up, Brendon,” Ryan says, and Brendon stands and just waits and looks at Ryan looking at him, looks at Ryan looking at his whole body like he doesn’t know where to start and then Ryan stands too and Brendon’s getting hard and his brain isn’t really working oh my God what are they doing this is a terrible idea and Ryan buckles the gag around the back of Brendon’s head and he moans as the strap goes tight and Brendon realizes that there’s no way on earth he could stop this until Ryan tells him to, bad idea or not.

“Take your shirt off and kneel and we’ll start with your chest and you have to let me know if it’s too much,” Ryan says, and Brendon pulls his shirt off and kneels and closes his eyes and tries to swallow but can’t, really.

Ryan says, “You’re going to love this,” like it’s an instruction and the first blow is soft but it’s right on his nipple and Brendon's hips tip forward with a gasp and he can’t speak but he thinks,

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