Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Now I'm of Consenting Age, To Be Forgetting You
Ryan carefully applied the last touch of eyeliner to his already heavily made up face. Leaning back, he inspected his work. Everything had to be perfect for his date with Spencer; Ryan really needed to enjoy himself after everything that had gone on in the past few days. A horn blared outside, Ryan's cue. Spencer waited in his red convertible, looking as sleek and sexy as ever. "Hey babe," Spence kissed Ryan hungrily.
Ryan pulled away suddenly; the all too familiar scent of alcohol hung on Spencer's breath. Ryan shook his head; he had nothing to fear from his lover, Spencer wasn't like George Ross. Forgetting about the suddenly resurfaced memories of last night, Ryan succumbed to Spencer's insatiable lips.
“To be honest, I was a little hesitant to go out, but I feel better now,” spoke Ryan, slicing the cold air.
“Mhm.”
“I’ve had a pretty bad past couple of days...”
“Yeah. Me too.”
The awkward silence stung like dry ice.
“So, where are we going?” started Ryan as he clung to the interior of the car while Spencer made a turn.
“Mmm... It’s a surprise.”
“Heh, well, I’m up for anything.”
“Great!”
Ryan looked back at Spencer, his kind friend, his boyfriend.
Recalling memories of their childhood of being best friends, Ryan failed to notice the squeal of the tires as they pulled up to a striking place. Yes, striking, and not in the good way. Looming in front of them was a stretching tan building, its top laced with cheap rosy roof tiles, its walls aged and rotting, roaches squirming from underneath door cracks. Ryan could only look at it stunned; he looked back to Spencer, standing in view of a flashing, red sign with the word “MOTEL” lighting the night.
Ryan had not even begun to recover from his shock when Spencer climbed out of the driver's seat, looking back at Ryan expectantly. Ryan opened the door and followed Spencer into the uninviting building, his dread growing by the minute.
The next thing Ryan knew he was on the flea-infested bed of a crappy motel room making out with Spencer. Sure, they'd made it to second base before, but Ryan wasn't sure he was ready to go the whole ten yards. Breaking off the deep kiss, Ryan pulled away. "What's wrong babe?" Spencer moaned sloppily in his ear, trailing kisses down Ryan's smooth neck.
"Spence, wait, it's... it’s just-we're moving too fast."
"Mmm..." came the answer as Spencer traveled down Ryan's body.
"Spencer, fuck, stop it!"
"C'mon Ry, you know I love you," Spencer slithered out the sentence casually as he began pressing Ryan back towards the moth eaten mattress.
Ryan shoved hard on Spencer's chest. "Get the fuck off me! I said no!" he yelled.
Before he had time to react, Spencer had thrown him back against the bed pinning the smaller boy's arms behind his head.
"Just relax Ryan, you know you want this just as much as I do."
Ryan could only stare back at the hazy light blue eyes, mesmerized, shattered. His hands began to shake, eyes darting from the towering figure in front of him and the exit behind. Shrinking back into the wall of the bed, he spoke, voice creaking like a door on rusty hinges, “S-Sp-pp-encer. P-Please...”
His wrists began to burn.
“Spenc-c-eer...”
He could taste breath.
Thick.
Slippery.
Intoxicated.
“SPENC–,” Ryan barely managed to cry out before lips crashed upon his.
Ryan pulled away suddenly; the all too familiar scent of alcohol hung on Spencer's breath. Ryan shook his head; he had nothing to fear from his lover, Spencer wasn't like George Ross. Forgetting about the suddenly resurfaced memories of last night, Ryan succumbed to Spencer's insatiable lips.
“To be honest, I was a little hesitant to go out, but I feel better now,” spoke Ryan, slicing the cold air.
“Mhm.”
“I’ve had a pretty bad past couple of days...”
“Yeah. Me too.”
The awkward silence stung like dry ice.
“So, where are we going?” started Ryan as he clung to the interior of the car while Spencer made a turn.
“Mmm... It’s a surprise.”
“Heh, well, I’m up for anything.”
“Great!”
Ryan looked back at Spencer, his kind friend, his boyfriend.
Recalling memories of their childhood of being best friends, Ryan failed to notice the squeal of the tires as they pulled up to a striking place. Yes, striking, and not in the good way. Looming in front of them was a stretching tan building, its top laced with cheap rosy roof tiles, its walls aged and rotting, roaches squirming from underneath door cracks. Ryan could only look at it stunned; he looked back to Spencer, standing in view of a flashing, red sign with the word “MOTEL” lighting the night.
Ryan had not even begun to recover from his shock when Spencer climbed out of the driver's seat, looking back at Ryan expectantly. Ryan opened the door and followed Spencer into the uninviting building, his dread growing by the minute.
The next thing Ryan knew he was on the flea-infested bed of a crappy motel room making out with Spencer. Sure, they'd made it to second base before, but Ryan wasn't sure he was ready to go the whole ten yards. Breaking off the deep kiss, Ryan pulled away. "What's wrong babe?" Spencer moaned sloppily in his ear, trailing kisses down Ryan's smooth neck.
"Spence, wait, it's... it’s just-we're moving too fast."
"Mmm..." came the answer as Spencer traveled down Ryan's body.
"Spencer, fuck, stop it!"
"C'mon Ry, you know I love you," Spencer slithered out the sentence casually as he began pressing Ryan back towards the moth eaten mattress.
Ryan shoved hard on Spencer's chest. "Get the fuck off me! I said no!" he yelled.
Before he had time to react, Spencer had thrown him back against the bed pinning the smaller boy's arms behind his head.
"Just relax Ryan, you know you want this just as much as I do."
Ryan could only stare back at the hazy light blue eyes, mesmerized, shattered. His hands began to shake, eyes darting from the towering figure in front of him and the exit behind. Shrinking back into the wall of the bed, he spoke, voice creaking like a door on rusty hinges, “S-Sp-pp-encer. P-Please...”
His wrists began to burn.
“Spenc-c-eer...”
He could taste breath.
Thick.
Slippery.
Intoxicated.
“SPENC–,” Ryan barely managed to cry out before lips crashed upon his.
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