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Tear Me Apart

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Justin stands in the darkened hotel hallway with his eyes closed. He wants to put his forehead up against the door in front of him just to see if it’s as cool and appealing as it looks, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sighs heavily and knocks on it.

It’s the middle of the night and he knows it, so he’s not at all surprised when he doesn’t hear anything inside the room after the first knock. He knocks again, waits, and knocks once more before he finally does hear some muffled grumbling and shuffling.

Lights come on under the door and it swings open to reveal Ryan’s exhausted face, deep bags under his barely-open eyes.

“What the fuck, dude?” he demands, not meeting Justin’s gaze straight on. Justin’s not even sure Ryan actually knows who’s standing in front of him, but that’s fine. All Justin had needed was company - it didn’t even really matter to him if Ryan immediately went back to sleep.

“Sorry, I just…” Justin trails off, forcing tears to stay the fuck out of his eyes. He didn’t come here for sympathy, didn’t come here to pour all his bullshit out just yet. “I just can’t be alone right now.”

Ryan looks up for the first time properly, his dark eyes meeting Justin’s.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and the three simple words make Justin feel like all the air’s been knocked right out of him.

“No,” he whispers, shaking his head. His longer-than-normal hair falls down into his face, covering his eyes and providing enough cover that Ryan can’t quite see him anymore.

“Get in here,” Ryan says, reaching out and grabbing Justin by the arm, pulling him into the room and shutting the door behind him. “Talk to me.”

“Uh… I don’t want to,” Justin tells him, shaking his head. “I just… I don’t want to be alone. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

Ryan sighs and crosses the room to the minibar. He pours two drinks and sits down at the small dining table in one corner, setting the second drink in front of the empty chair across from himself.

“Sit,” he instructs. “Drink. You don’t have to talk.”

Justin hesitates, not sure what the fuck he’s even doing in Ryan’s room in the first place. For some reason, Ryan had been the only one he could think of that might actually be able to comfort him somehow - Chris would ask too many questions and Vin had a cold and had been sleeping most of the day. Ryan was soft, easy to talk to, easy to be around. He didn’t ask too many questions and didn’t prod for information.

“C’mon. I won’t bite,” Ryan tells Justin, making him blink hard, hot tears burning behind his eyes. He nods, making his way across the room and sitting, downing the drink in one go.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Justin whispers after a few moments of contented silence, and Ryan’s immediately shaking his head

“It’s okay.”

They fall back into their shared silence. Justin’s got no clue what to say even though his head’s so full he’s sure it’s about to explode, and Ryan just sits there across from him quietly. He doesn’t pull out his phone, doesn’t look around awkwardly grasping for something to say, doesn’t do anything more than opening the blinds covering the window beside them so that they can see the night skyline outside.

It’s not until Ryan’s phone calls out a shrill text tone that makes them both jump that either of them even so much as moves. He crosses the room to the phone as Justin watches, looks down at it, and then back up at Justin.

“It’s Rick. He’s looking for you,” he says quietly, and Justin nods. He’d kind of been afraid of that.

“I don’t want to talk to him.”

Ryan nods, types something quickly into the phone, and then resumes his place across from Justin at the table.

“Did something happen?” he asks gently, and Justin can’t blame him for a second. He’s sure Ryan’s been curious about the whole thing since the moment Justin knocked on his door, but he’s sure now it must be killing him. He nods.

“Yeah, uh… I think we broke up.”

The words hang thick between them and saying them out loud makes the tears Justin had been holding in spill out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He sniffles quietly and Ryan sighs.

“I was afraid you were gonna say that. I saw you guys fighting earlier,” Ryan tells him, and he nods. Everyone had seen them fighting earlier. Hell, he’s pretty sure some of the fans outside the venue had even caught sight of them as they’d screamed at each other by the bus after the show.

Justin sighs too, burying his head in his hands.

“It’s been coming for a long time,” he says, and he can hear Ryan moving and a second later his hand’s on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, dude,” he says, and Justin raises his head, gets a good look at him. He doesn’t want to fucking talk about Ricky. He doesn’t even want to think about Ricky. He doesn’t want to scream, doesn’t want to cry. If he’s really being honest, there’s only one thing he does want.

Justin can’t be positive, but he’s got a pretty good hunch that the second Ricky got the text from Ryan with whatever he’d told him, there was only one place he was going. Hell, by now he was probably already in Chris’ room, already had his dick halfway down his throat. Justin had known about Chris and Ricky’s history long before he and Ricky had even considered dating, but he’d never known it would be such a big part of their relationship. Of course it had been, though. By the end of it, Justin was pretty damn sure that the reason Ricky could never love him properly was because he was in love with Chris, not that he’d ever admit it.

And now as he sits here with Ryan’s gentle hand on his shoulder, none of it matters at the moment. It’s not that he isn’t upset about their breakup, he absolutely is, but there’s also something he wants, something he needs so badly he can almost taste it - release.

“Can you just do me a favor?” Justin asks, and Ryan nods at once.

“Sure.”

“Can you just… be here with me? I don’t know if you’re…” he trails off, not sure what he wants to say. Though they’ve known each other for quite a while, Justin’s not really sure of Ryan’s sexual preferences and doesn’t want to cross any lines. Ryan nods again, taking Justin’s hand and pulling him into a standing position.

“Yeah, I can,” he whispers, leaning up and letting their lips meet just gently, like he’s not actually totally convinced it’s what Justin wanted. As it turns out, though, it’s exactly what Justin wanted, and a second later his long arms are wrapping around Ryan’s middle, pulling him closer desperately.

God, Ryan’s a fucking good kisser, and by just a few moments later, Justin feels like he’s about to break right through the fly of his jeans. Ryan’s hands are all over him, roaming his arms and snaking their way under the fabric of his t-shirt. Their height difference isn’t quite as dramatic as what he’s used to with Ricky and it’s nice - he doesn’t feel like he has to try quite as hard to make things match up.

Without really meaning to, Justin realizes he’s sort-of grinding his crotch on Ryan’s hip, making a moan escape his own lips that makes Ryan smile into the kiss.

Justin’s own hands set off roaming as well, working their way over Ryan’s muscular back and arms, landing on his ass. Quite honestly, Justin’s never really noticed just how nice Ryan’s ass is, and suddenly he’s very nearly overcome with the urge to rip his pants off and sink his teeth into it right then and there.

They manage somehow to make it over to the bed - Justin’s got no clue which one of them even initiated the movement, but it doesn’t matter. All that does matter is that Ryan’s shoving him backwards down into the scratchy sheets, tangling a hand in his hair to pull his head off to the side and kissing his neck in a way that’s making him lightheaded.

“Oh… fuck,” Justin groans, and at this point he’s pretty sure Ryan’s been sipping some sort of magic protein shake or something because goddamn is he good at this.

“Let me make you feel good,” Ryan says in a gravelly voice that barely sounds like his and Justin’s absolutely powerless to do anything other than nod just slightly and mumble out the only thing he can.

“P-please,” he says, and he doesn’t even have the brain capacity to be self-conscious about how whiny he’d sounded, about how much his hips are thrusting up into Ryan involuntarily.

Ryan’s hands are at Justin’s fly, ripping it open and shoving his pants down and around his ankles. Justin wiggles to help as much as he can, but he’s still so blind with need that he can barely even see Ryan in front of him, but he definitely knows he’s there when a warm hand arrives on his dick and makes him whimper and shut his eyes tightly.

Ryan’s phone rings on the nightstand beside the bed a second later, which startles both of them and makes them both look in the general direction in annoyance.

“D’you need to get it?” Justin mumbles, his mouth sounding like it’s full of marbles. Ryan shakes his head, his own eyes glazed over with lust.

“It’s two in the morning. Whoever it is can fuck off,” Ryan says as the phone stops ringing and he sets back to work toward his original goal. Justin assumes it was probably Ricky - though he is fully convinced Ricky’s probably with Chris, he knows he’s also probably mad that he can’t find Justin.

Either way, he doesn’t have time to fully think about it because before he can Ryan’s mouth is on his cock and literally nothing else in the entire world matters even a little.

“Jesus,” he groans, one fist curling into the sheets while the other finds Ryan and grasps at anything he can - his shoulder, the side of his face, his hair. His orgasm is already building low in his tummy - he’d known it wouldn’t take long given his current shitty mood, and even though part of him doesn’t want to come, doesn’t want the feeling to end, he also can’t fucking wait.

Just like everything else he’s done so far, Ryan’s mouth feels so good, every little movement just right, and before he knows it, Justin’s squirming underneath him, mumbling about how he’s almost there. Ryan’s hands are roaming too, reaching up and under Justin’s shirt and dragging his nails down his stomach. The motion makes goosebumps rise over Justin’s entire body and he all but screams when he explodes just a few moments later.

Ryan works him through it, bringing him down gently before taking his mouth off of him and looking up at him.

“You get what you needed?” he asks, and Justin swears he’s never spoken before in his life because there’s not a single coherent word in his brain to respond with.

Instead, he just nods and reaches for Ryan dumbly, pulling him up so that he can kiss him. The kiss is soft, completely different than before, and Justin sighs contentedly when they pull apart.

“Thanks,” he whispers, and Ryan laughs quietly, nodding.

“Sure.”

Justin wraps his arm around Ryan’s shoulders, pulling him into a cuddle, and they lay there quietly for a while. He’s doing his best to keep himself in the afterglow of his orgasm and not let himself get wrapped up in thoughts of other things, trying to let the slow circles Ryan’s tracing with a fingertip on his stomach keep him grounded.

“You okay?” Ryan asks a little while later, clearly able to tell Justin’s head feels like it’s full to bursting again.

Justin sighs just as Ryan’s phone starts ringing again on the bedside table.

“Yeah. Just coming back down to reality, I guess.”

Ryan sighs as well, pulling himself up and reaching for the phone. He picks it up, looks at the screen, and shows it to Justin. Sure enough, Ricky’s name is positioned at the top, his contact photo staring at Justin menacingly.

“Just answer it,” he says, and Ryan does. Before Ryan can even get a word in, Justin can hear Ricky ranting on the other end of the line. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath, readying himself for the shitstorm that’s sure to come.

Chapter Text

“Nah, dude, I haven’t seen him,” Ryan lies into the phone, looking up at Justin and shrugging. Ricky says something and Ryan sighs, shaking his head. “Why, what’s going on?”

Ryan listens as Ricky speaks and so does Justin, though he can’t hear anything more than garbled words that remind him of the adults in old Charlie Brown cartoons. He’s got no idea what Ricky’s saying to Ryan, but it doesn’t really matter either. He’s sure it’s just Ricky’s ‘poor pitiful me’ version of their breakup, because Justin’s pretty sure Ricky’s not able to tell a story any other way.

As Justin sits there quietly, an idea hits him like a freight train. It’s such a good idea, such an intriguing idea, that he feels himself getting half-hard in the underwear he’d managed to pull up in the aftermath of what they’d just done. If it wouldn’t alert Ryan to the fact that he was absolutely up to no good, he feels like his face would curl into that Grinch smile that stretches up his whole head.

Justin reaches for Ryan where he’s now sitting on the edge of the bed. Ricky’s still talking and Ryan’s responding every now and then noncommittally, lots of ‘mhm’s and ‘yeah’s. Ryan jumps just slightly when Justin starts moving, pulling himself off the bed so that he’s standing in front of him looking down at him expectantly. Ryan looks back at him through his lashes, clearly confused.

“Take off your pants,” Justin whispers, and Ryan rolls his eyes and pulls the phone away from his ear, taps the mute button.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks, and Justin laughs.

“I’m talking about the fact that I want to suck your soul out through your dick while Ricky tells you what a terrible boyfriend I am,” he replies casually, shrugging. Ryan’s cheeks go adorably red in response to the comment, but he obliges anyway, pulling his pajama bottoms and underwear down and kicking them off. Before he unmutes the phone, Justin plants a kiss on his lips and smiles devilishly. He raises a finger to his lips to shush him as Ryan taps the button.

“Yeah, I know,” he says quietly, more to Justin than Ricky, but Justin’s sure Ricky doesn’t even actually care what Ryan’s saying at all and can hear him continuing on the other end like nothing happened.

Ryan spreads his legs and Justin kneels between them, looking down at Ryan’s ready and waiting dick. God, he was already excited to do this himself, but seeing how obviously turned on Ryan is over it is going to make it even more fun.

Justin takes Ryan in his hand lightly, smiling when Ryan’s eyes close and his head lolls back. He mumbles another response to Ricky just as Justin’s running his tongue over the tip of his dick and his intended “yeah” comes out with a little whine to it. Justin can hear Ricky questioning him, smiling again at Ryan’s response.

“No. I, uh… I yawned,” he says, smiling down at Justin and rolling his eyes. Ricky seems to take the answer and launches back into speaking, giving Justin the cover he needs to take Ryan into his mouth fully.

Ryan pulls the phone away from his face as a small groan escapes his lips and Justin shakes his head and smiles around Ryan’s dick. He reaches up to push the phone back at Ryan’s face, committed to the game they’re now playing. If Ryan wants it, he’s gonna have to work for it.

Justin tests out a small bob of his head, working Ryan into the back of his throat slowly and pulling back off so that his lips are just around his tip. Ryan bites his lip and closes his eyes, his free hand making its way to Justin’s hair and tangling in it.

Justin smiles to himself again as he starts working Ryan harder, closing his eyes as he falls into the rhythm of it. Ryan’s squirming in no time flat, breathing heavily as he still mumbles responses to Ricky over the phone. Justin can’t really hear Ricky anymore or even concentrate on what Ryan’s saying; all he knows is that Ryan feels just as good in his mouth as he’d felt on his own dick and all he can think about is making him feel good.

It throws Justin completely off his game a minute later when he can suddenly clearly hear Ricky’s voice through the phone, apparently now on speakerphone. His eyes flash up to Ryan’s through his lashes and Ryan’s looking at him smugly, shrugging.

“Fine,” Justin grumbles against Ryan’s dick, shoving it even deeper into his throat. Ryan laughs quietly, his eyes fluttering closed. Justin works it deeper and deeper until it’s pushing his gag reflex with every movement, making his eyes water. Ryan’s squirming even more now, the phone discarded onto the bedside table and both of his hands grasping onto anything of Justin’s they can hold.

Ricky’s still just ranting away wherever he is on the other end of the line, and Justin’s pretty sure he’s accomplished his goal of making Ryan forget he was even on the phone to begin with. He’s not responding to Ricky barely at all anymore and his eyes are closed, his head’s thrown back, his hands holding Justin’s shoulders so hard it hurts. Justin closes his own eyes as he feels Ryan’s orgasm building - his dick’s harder and pulsing in Justin’s mouth now, his breathing more ragged and his grip even tighter than it was a moment before.

“Oh god… oh… fuck,” Ryan groans much too loudly as he comes into the back of Justin’s throat. Justin works him down, neither of them paying attention as Ricky sets off in a new direction on the phone. Obviously he’s heard the noise and obviously he’s mad, but Justin’s pretty sure Ryan’s too fucked out to even realize Ricky’s still speaking and quite frankly Justin himself couldn’t give a damn.

“Ryan, what the fuck?! You’re not even fucking listening to me, are you?” Ricky demands right as Justin pulls Ryan’s dick out of his mouth a few moments later, and he can’t help himself - he laughs out loud. Ricky goes deadly silent as a look up at Ryan tells Justin his eyes are wide and he’s shaking his head.

“You’re… that was Justin, wasn’t it?” Ricky asks, and Justin picks up the phone and stares down at it in his hand. There’s a million things he wants to say - he wants to argue, wants to tell him why he came to Ryan in the first place, but for some reason he can’t manage a word of any of it.

“Yeah,” Ryan says beside him, and Justin looks at him with a raised eyebrow. He’d settled on just hanging up the phone, but apparently Ryan had something to say. “Yeah. He’s been blowing me the whole time you’ve been bitching about how awful he is. It’s funny, the way I see it, he’s not that bad.”

Justin’s eyes go wide and he stifles a laugh as he watches Ryan, genuinely shocked he’d spoken up at all.

“You fucking… you really screwed my fucking boyfriend, Ryan? Seriously?” Ricky demands, and Justin lets out the laugh he’d been holding in.

“Ricky, come on. First of all, you’re the one that decided I’m not your boyfriend anymore. Second of all, I think we all know you’ve already either gotten fucked by or have fucked Chris in the hour since I saw you last. Third, what you heard wasn’t him screwing me. That was happening when you called the first time and he ignored it because my dick was down his throat,” Justin informs him. He knows that the last part isn't technically true, but Ricky doesn’t need to know that.

Ricky huffs, seemingly grasping for something to say. When he doesn’t find it, the line goes dead. Ryan laughs quietly, falling back onto the bed. Justin gets off the floor and flops down beside him, sighing.

“Sorry I dragged you into this shit,” Justin says after a while of staring at the ceiling. “If it makes you feel any better, I really fuckin’ liked having your dick in my mouth.”

Ryan chuckles, reaching until he finds Justin’s hand and intertwines their fingers. The sensation is nice and Justin closes his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it. I kinda like knocking him down a peg. He’ll get over it,” Ryan says quietly. “And I really fuckin’ liked having your dick in my mouth too,” he adds, and Justin laughs with him.

“Just dudes bein’ dudes, suckin’ each other’s dicks as a treat,” Justin says, wiggling his fingers where they’re still locked with Ryan’s.

“Boys will be boys, y’know,” Ryan agrees, making Justin laugh so hard tears fill his eyes. He knows he’s going to have to deal with Ricky and the ramifications of everything that’s just happened - of course he will - but for now, he’s perfectly content to just lay there with Ryan until the sun comes up.