[personal profile] untappedbeauty
A while back, I asked for prompts. I already posted [livejournal.com profile] rossetti's request for stoned/morning sex Spencer/Ryan here, and [livejournal.com profile] airgiodslv's prompt is gonna get its own post, too, in just a minute, because it's porny and longer. So the common theme here is this: Ask for porn, and apparently you get at least 1,000 words because I'm easy like that. Ask for something fluffy and you get a couple hundred of ridiculous words in which nothing really happens. Uh, sorry for my biases? (I really like writing porn, whoops!)

SO. Little ficlets behind the cuts!

For [livejournal.com profile] saba1789: Bob/Spencer, chocolate
Note to Saba: I AM SO VERY SORRY, BECAUSE THIS IS A TOTAL CHEAT ON THE BOB/SPENCER FRONT. D: I can try to rewrite for you another time if you want? But, uh, I hope you like Brendon?

"Dude, I hate to tell you this, but that's a sucky Valentine's Day present. Especially for a first V-Day. Isn't that when you're both still supposed to be trying to impress each other?"

Brendon abandons the box of chocolates, but not before snatching another piece. "I mean, the box wasn't even sealed," he says, trying to peek over Spencer's shoulder to see the note. "What's it say? Why are you smiling? Is it mushy?"

He pops another piece of chocolate in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "Hey, that was another caramel-filled one. Not that I'm complaining; caramel's great. But whatever happened to variety? I thought there weren't supposed to be repeats in samplers."

Brendon knocks the lid off and gives the heart-shaped box's contents a good, hard look. "These all look the same. Aren't they supposed to have different shapes for the different kinds of fillings?"

He picks up another piece and bites it in half after eyeing it suspiciously. "Hey! Caramel again! This box is defective. You should tell Bob his Valentine's Day gift is lame."

Finally, finally, Brendon shuts up long enough for Spencer to ask, "Are you done?"

Brendon blinks innocently and sneaks a hand down to steal two more chocolates. "Yeah," he says.

"Great," Spencer says. "Because it's not a gift for me. It's for you. He got Frank's help picking out all the other flavors and filled one box with the caramel ones since they're your favorite."

Brendon suddenly seems much happier. "Awww, really? That's sweet! What a great gift!" He puts the lid back on and clutches the box to his chest. "Tell him I love it!"

"I will do that," Spencer agrees. "But the gift comes on one condition."

Brendon gasps, face horrified. "Oh my god, is this him trying to butter me up for a threesome? Not that you're not both hot or anything, but dude. You're sort of like a brother."

Spencer makes a face. "No," he says vehemently. "All you have to do is go to Room 128 for the night and room with Ray so Bob can come here and we can use my bed for something better than sleeping."

"Pshhhh," Brendon says. "And Bob thought he had to bribe me for that. All he had to do was mention Ray's name."

For [livejournal.com profile] um_nosrsly: Bob, Amy Winehouse and blushing
Note: [livejournal.com profile] um_nosrsly, I cheated (again), and you are free to throw things at me for this, okay?

Bob knows -- he does -- that Frankie's just doing it to be a little shit, but there's something in him that can't stay silent.

"Shut up," he growls. "She's talented, okay? She's probably just under a lot of pressure." He could trot out Gerard as an example of what people do when they're under pressure, but he wouldn't do that, and Frank's a bastard who knows it.

"You dig her hair, right? Beehives turn you on," Frank says, wiggling his eyebrows and "accidentally" elbowing Bob in the ribs as he plops down next to him on the couch.

Bob elbows Frank out of the way, then crosses his arms and glares. He knows it won't work -- it worked on the other guys the first month they knew him, but it never worked on Frank. Predictably, Frank keeps right on being an asshole.

"They tried to make me go to rehab but I said no, no, no," Frank sings, off-key on purpose, Bob knows it.

Bob gives up and pushes up off the couch, throwing the Rolling Stone at Frank's head. Frank ducks, of course, and it misses him.

"Hey, no need to get violent," Frank says gleefully. He picks up the magazine and makes a show of smoothing the cover out. "How are you going to get it on the ceiling of your bunk to kiss her good night if you toss it around and rip it up?"

Bob doesn't justify that with an answer, just turns to go anywhere else, ducking his head to hide the blush that Frank would never let him live down. Frank doesn't need to know about the second copy Bob bought, just in case.

For [livejournal.com profile] ficsoreal: Ryan/Spencer, headbands

Spencer could do this part himself, but Ryan likes to do it, so Spencer lets him.

He holds his hair back while Ryan adjusts the strip of cloth across Spencer's forehead, leaning in close, breath ghosting across Spencer's cheek as he ties the headband in the back.

The first time they did this, Spencer had very nearly pointed out that if Ryan stood behind him and they were in front of a mirror, Ryan could do it easier, and without sometimes tying Spencer's hair in the cloth, pulling it uncomfortably. But that time, Ryan had finished tying it and pushed his fingers into Spencer's hair, tangling them in the strands at Spencer's nape, and he'd smiled at Spencer, their eyes linked, before Ryan leaned forward and kissed Spencer's forehead just below the headband.

He does it every time now, and Spencer's waiting for the time when Ryan's mouth won't press against his cheek, or his temple or chin or the smattering of freckles at the bridge of his nose, but will settle over Spencer's mouth and coax it open.

It's coming, and Spencer can be patient.

For [livejournal.com profile] sparklewitch: Brendon/Spencer, belt buckle

Brendon likes his new belt buckle. It's ostentatious, he thinks, rolling the Ryan word around in his head. It's bright gold and shiny, like having a flashing sign pointing to his crotch, and that's pretty fucking awesome, not in the least because every time he wears it, he sees Spencer's gaze drop to it.

Of course, Brendon's surge of satisfaction is constantly cut short by Spencer's curled lip and protestations that Brendon need to "get rid of that belt" because "it's just tacky."

Brendon's pretty proud of himself every time he manages not to laugh and point out that about half the things they wear on any given day are tacky, and really, Spencers who wear headbands shouldn't throw stones.

He mostly manages to keep his mouth shut because he knows the quickest way to get into Spencer's pants is not by insulting him. So he smiles instead, and says nothing, but pushes his hips forward until light reflects off the buckle and Spencer's eyes drop again, and a faint flush colors Spencer's cheeks.
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