|
Title: Hot and Spicy Yum belle_bing and I have this pet theory/fanon between us that pizza = sex for Ryan. This is what happens when she's hungry and bored at work, and I'm hungry and making pizza for supper. ♥ her for beta'ing this.
Ryan can't help the way pizza gets to him. The smell of tomato sauce and seasonings, combining with the rich scent of cheese and the spicy allure of pepperoni. Oh god, and then there's the taste. He can't go to a pizza place anymore, has to rework the route he takes to school to avoid the new Pizza Hut that just moved into the storefront where the deli used to be. It's not just that the smells and taste make him hard, it's that they make him hard and leave him wanting, aching for more, for anything. Ryan thinks he must be the only person to ever consider ordering in pizza to be essential to an evening of quality time with his right hand. That's actually just what Ryan has planned tonight, and everything would be going as planned, except when he opens the door, it's not the normal delivery girl, who can't be more than seventeen and has a rather unfortunate and severe case of acne. This new guy is nearly the same age as him, with stupid hair and stupid red glasses and Ryan barely registers the nametag that says Brendon before his body is already reacting to the enticing smell of the pizza. Instead of handing over the money as soon as he's grabbed the pizza and set it on the table next to the door, Ryan finds himself taking the pizza, stuck on the guy's face, staring. "Delivery for Ryan Ross. That'll be twelve-fifty," the guy says a little uncertainly, "with tax?" The thing is, Ryan has avoided being around pizza and other people together ever since the time he and Spencer tried to have a low-key, just-them sleepover when Ryan was fifteen and Spencer fourteen. They weren't able to look at each over for nearly a month afterwards, and when they finally did, the first thing out of Spencer's mouth was an awkwardly worded plea that they please stick to fried chicken from now on? Spencer even made his mom throw out all the little pizzas in their freezer, claiming they had freezer burn. Either way, Ryan isn't accustomed to being around others while there's pizza present. Really, it's not his fault when, instead of paying Brendon, Ryan grabs the front of his uniform shirt and yanks him inside the apartment, letting the door click shut behind him. Ryan whirls them around and backs Brendon up until his back hits the wall opposite the door. Within seconds Ryan's pressing his entire body against Brendon, rocking his hips and moaning against too-lush lips. Brendon tries to pull away, even brings up his hands to try and push Ryan off of him, but Ryan and can cling like a limpet when he wants to so it really doesn't matter. Leaning his head back, Brendon breaks off the kiss and starts to say,"Um, wow. Okay, that's one hell of a tip, and I really appreciate it, but—" "Less talking, more kissing," Ryan growls, biting at red lips as his hands wander down across the front of the uniform shirt to grab Brendon's dick through his jeans. It's half-hard already and Ryan makes a pleased noise. "Fuck," Brendon gasps as he melts against Ryan. His hands stop trying to push away and instead fist in Ryan's shirt, gathering big fistfuls of paisley fabric. Normally, Ryan would worry about it wrinkling. Right now, he's not feeling very normal. His mind is somewhere else entirely, particularly since he's gotten both their jeans open and is in the process of shoving those and their underwear down. "You could help," Ryan snaps as he struggles to tug down Brendon's too-tight jeans. If Ryan weren't currently under the influence of pizza, he'd probably really appreciate those jeans. As it is, they're an annoyance he could really do without. "S-sorry," Brendon moans, hands stuttering down Ryan's sides to push down Ryan's jeans. It's easy work, since Ryan planned this, planned to be able to undo his fly and get his pants down with one hand while holding beautiful, delicious pizza in the other. Ryan smirks at the way Brendon's breath catches as soon as he frees Ryan's dick, but the smirk is a distracted one, because Brendon isn't touching him, and really, that's what Ryan needs more than awe right now. "Dammit, how the fuck do you get these things off," Ryan swears, finally just grabbing the waistbands of Brendon's jeans and briefs with both hands and yanking down, hard. This warrants a yelp from Brendon, but it barely registers with Ryan, who's leaning in, pressing in, rutting against him hard and fast, head dropping, teeth digging into the thick muscle where Brendon's neck meets his shoulder. Yes, finally. Ryan's so close, so ready that he has only to grind against Brendon a handful of times before he's coming hot and hard between them, staining both their shirts. He slumps forward, leaning all of his weight against Brendon as he takes a moment to recover his breath before the scent of the pizza sets him off again. Against him, Brendon whimpers. Ryan ignores it, concentrating on deep breaths through his mouth, trying to block out the enticing smell wafting from box near the door. "What the fuck was that?" Brendon asks dazedly, pupils blown and still a bit unfocused. "I may be new to this whole thing, but I'm pretty sure most people don't just jump the delivery guy at the door." "Pizza," Ryan gasps, panting slightly. It's beginning to get to him again, he can feel his head start to buzz with excitement and his cock twitches interestedly. "It. Smell sets me off." He nuzzles Brendon's neck, starts nibbling, teeth digging progressively deeper as he goes. "Know it's weird. Sorry." Brendon's laugh is both nervous and breathless, but he wraps an arm around Ryan's waist and grins. "Trust me when I say that, as long as you reciprocate, I really don't mind. And besides, it's not really all that weird," he says, pressing a lopsided kiss to the corner of Ryan's mouth before loosening his grip and tugging Ryan towards the nearby couch. "How so?" "Cooked tomato," Brendon says solemnly. "It's good for the prostate." | . | . | |
|
♥ ♥ ♥ | |||