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Stepping onto the bus, Brendon waves his arm triumphantly above his head and shouts, "Hi, honey, I'm home!" No one answers; it's not like they were expecting him to come back with news and they were probably happy to get out of the bus for a while too. Besides, he hadn't told anyone but Zack where he was going; it had felt more personal that way, plus he likes to take every possible opportunity to surprise the guys. Forcing the slump out of his shoulders, Brendon traces a light pattern over his forearm and grins. It's cool. The surprise can wait. He dances over to the fridge, grabs a drink, and then curls into the sofa. A nap will kill some time.
~ ~ ~
Something brushes against the crook of his elbow and Brendon's skin twitches. It tickles. Brendon grumbles, keeps his eyes squeezed shut, and flails at the annoyance.
"Bren. Hey, Bren?" It's Jon whispering, but Brendon doesn't care. He's napping.
"G'way."
A hand slips into Brendon's hair and tugs gently. He tips his head into the sensation; sighs, "Sleepin'."
"Wake up for us." It's Ryan.
Brendon opens his eyes the tiniest amount possible. Jon's smiling up at him from where he's crouched beside the sofa. He can't see Ryan though, because Ryan's at the end of the sofa behind Brendon's head, one hand still pulling gently on his hair.
"Hi," Brendon says quietly, his mouth full of sleep.
"Hey yourself," says Jon as Ryan bends forward and kisses Brendon gently. Brendon whines and follows Ryan's mouth as he pulls away, but Jon just slips in and takes Ryan's place, lips soft and warm. Brendon smiles into Jon's mouth and arches his neck. Ryan helps by tightening his hand in Brendon's hair and pulling again.
Jon gets the hint, but he only kisses Brendon's neck once before he pulls away.
"What the fuck?" Brendon opens his eyes properly. "Jon?"
"What's this, Bren?" Jon runs his hand over the papery bandage on Brendon's arm.
Brendon smiles. "A surprise. Come back here." He reaches out and tries to pull Jon on top of him, but Ryan foils his cunning plan by pushing Brendon forward and slipping in behind him. "Hey!"
Ryan shuffles around until Brendon's ass is pressed flush against his dick and his legs are stretched out and tucked under Brendon's knees. It's awkward, but Brendon doesn't care, he loves the sensation of being wrapped in Ryan's embrace. Ryan nips at Brendon's neck, just above where it meets the shoulder, and rolls his hips forward. Brendon groans and pushes his ass back as far as it'll go.
Jon laughs and Brendon snaps his eyes open. "Why are you so far away?"
"No good reason," Jon says and crawls onto the sofa to straddle them; their knees pressed tightly between his thighs. He runs a single finger up the inner seam of Brendon's jeans; a touch that Brendon can barely feel but that still has him tipping his head back against Ryan's shoulder. Then Jon stops. "You didn't answer my question."
Brendon opens his eyes to look at him. "Yes, I did. I just didn't answer it the way you wanted me to."
Ryan brushes a hand across Brendon's belly, fingertips just below the hem of his t-shirt and skimming over his skin. "Tell us what it is," he says, his mouth against Brendon's ear.
"Not yet." Brendon's limp in Ryan's embrace, his skin tingling in a thousand places. "Spencer needs to be here too."
"Spencer is here," says Spencer.
Brendon rolls his head to the side and there's Spencer sprawled like a painting. His legs are wide apart and stretched for miles in front of him and he has one arm resting on the back of the seat. The other is palm down, flat against his groin. It's not touching anything in particular, but it's close. "Hi," Brendon says.
Jon turns Brendon's face back. "So now you can tell us."
Brendon could, but he's decided he wants to draw out the surprise; see what they'll do to make him talk. "I think I might wait. Tell you later."
Jon huffs, but behind him Ryan just laughs. It reverberates through Brendon and he sucks in a sharp breath. "We're not moving until you tell us, Bren. You won't be able to go anywhere and we won't touch a single inch more of you than we already are."
Brendon pouts and glances at Jon to see if it's working. Jon just grins and lifts Brendon's arm. "Tell us."
"Yeah, Brendon. Tell us." Spencer's grinning, an evil twinkle in his eye. "I mean, it can't be any uglier than the keys you had before, right?"
"Fuck you," Brendon says. "The keys are awesome." He tries to sit up, but Ryan won't budge; just presses his face against Brendon's neck and snorts a warm laugh into the tiny space between them. "Take it off, Jon, and then you can all tell me how awesome it is and finish what you started." He pushes his butt against Ryan, wriggling as much as he can.
Ryan grabs Brendon's hips and holds him still and Jon pulls back the temporary bandage. Brendon hisses as the tape pulls, but he can't help grinning as he looks at the tat. It's awesome.
"Wow," Ryan says. "That's... Bren, what is that exactly? I mean I can see the flowers, but..."
Spencer's beside them in a step; his hands right beside Jon's on Brendon's arms. "It's us. That's it isn't it? The flowers are us?"
Brendon smiles and ducks his head. It's ridiculous to feel nervous now, but he does, so he just nods and mutters, "Yes."
He's not sure who moves first, but suddenly Brendon feels as if he's drowning in his band. Jon is kissing Brendon's arm; soft, delicate kisses interspersed with tiny licks. Spencer is pinning him against Ryan as he pushes his way into Brendon's mouth, hot and desperate, and Ryan is sucking and biting on Brendon's ear and neck as he works Brendon's jeans open.
"Jesus, Bren," Jon says from somewhere too far away. "You're fucking amazing, do you know that?"
Brendon's pretty sure he wouldn't be able to speak even if Spencer wasn't in the way, so he flaps his hand at Jon in a way that's meant to convey 'you too'. Then Ryan reaches into his underwear and Brendon's brain is gone.
Spencer pulls back and Brendon whimpers. His mouth feels brutalized, but it doesn't matter, he doesn't care; he wants more. The space only lasts a second before he tastes Jon; feels his stubble scratch over his chin. "Hi," Jon says quietly and smiles. Brendon smiles back, but Jon doesn't have time to see it before he kisses Brendon again. He's slipping into it, losing himself to the feel of Jon, Ryan, and Spencer, when a brush of cool air hits his legs.
Brendon opens his eyes and watches as Spencer drops the jeans he's just pulled off Brendon onto the floor. Spencer grins gently at him, touches his arm, and then pulls his own pants off. Brendon tries to watch, but Jon's kissing him and Ryan's got a hand around his dick, twisting and teasing. Brendon can't move. He barely feels like he's breathing.
Eventually, too soon, Jon stops kissing him and Brendon feels him shift away. "Hey. No," Brendon says and opens his eyes just long enough to see Spencer kneeling on the end of the sofa. Then Jon's mouth wraps around Brendon's dick at the same moment that Ryan tips his head back and kisses him. Brendon groans; then groans again as Jon stops to let Spencer hoist Brendon's hips up and drag him further down along the sofa. Jon starts sucking again and Ryan tugs Brendon's t-shirt up and over his head before tilting in for more kissing.
Jon's mouth is hot and wet around Brendon's dick and Brendon's hips buck involuntarily, but there's a hand holding him down. Spencer. A moment passes and Brendon thinks that feeling any more would be impossible, but then Spencer slides two slippery fingers inside him and he knows he was wrong. He's wrapped in them. They're touching him from every direction and Brendon could die right now.
Then he grunts, because Jon has stopped and that just isn't nice. Jon isn't supposed to stop, not yet. Brendon's about to say something when Spencer leans over him and pushes in, slow and hot. All words have disappeared.
Spencer sets a rhythm; it's steady and deep, and Brendon thinks hazily that if Spencer fucking him was a composition, this passage would be largo. His legs are hooked high over Spencer's shoulders and the burn in the back of his thighs is nothing next to the heat of Spencer pushing in over and over and over. Every thrust sends a shiver up Brendon's spine and down to his toes.
Jon's jacking Brendon in a counter-rhythm. His hand twists up as Spencer enters and slides down when he withdraws. Brendon can feel his hips jerking in tiny sharp movements, chasing Jon's touch, but he has no control. None. Everything below his waist is alive with electricity and numb with sensation. His heart is trying to escape his chest and there's a chill across it where the air meets his sweat.
Brendon pulls his mouth away from Ryan's; it's too much. He's too hot. His eyes snap open; he sucks in a deep breath and his body twitches.
Ryan's smiling down at him. Then Brendon feels Ryan's hand link with Jon's around his dick and his eyes drift shut again. His moan catches in the back of his throat and he bites his lower lip. He's trembling now; shuddering. They're inside him and behind him and in front of him and he's burning, dying. Brendon shakes. Someone says, "Come on, let go," and Brendon does.
A thousand moments later he opens his eyes. Spencer's sitting with an arm draped against the back of the sofa, Brendon's legs in his lap. Jon's on the floor, curled against Spencer's knees. They're both stroking Brendon's thighs gently, tracing patterns over his skin. Ryan's still behind him, one arm around his waist, palm pressed flat against Brendon's skin. His other hand is in Brendon's hair; fingers twisting gently. They're wrapped around each other, Brendon in the middle. He smiles and closes his eyes.