Who: Rory and Wes When: Late December, night Where: somewhere in rural West Virginia Warning: NSFW Status: Complete
It was getting close to midnight when Wes pulled the stolen Honda he was driving onto the interstate exit ramp. They’d meant to find a place to stop a couple of hours earlier, but there really wasn’t much in this part of the state. On one hand, Wes appreciated that, because it kept traffic and his paranoia down that they were being tracked. On the other ... they would be easier to spot if anyone was looking for them.
It had been a few weeks now since they’d fled from New York. Wes was trying his damndest to keep them afloat, planning out a different route every day, stealing a fresh car for them to use every week or so, robbing convenience stores when they needed some cash. He was much more criminally-minded than Rory was, so he felt like the bulk of that stuff was on him to figure out for them. Wes had kicked his own ass in his head many times for not having a better bug-out plan, some place set up to hide if he ever did need to run from his ‘family’ ... but he’d never thought it would happen. Especially not so soon into his career.
But it was what it was, and now he had someone depending on him to make smart decisions and keep them a step ahead of the people after them. Wes still wasn’t sure what their long-term plan was going to be, but for now he felt like they needed to stay on the move. So far none of his contacts had come through with a safehouse, and he hadn’t been comfortable with any of the small towns they’d rolled through yet. When he was feeling more despondent about their situation, he doubted he would ever feel comfortable again. Until then, it was cheap motels and stolen cars and fast food and ballcaps and sunglasses whenever they got out of the vehicle. And lots of praying that they didn’t get pulled over.
Wes turned their current ride into the parking lot of the only gas station that still had its lights on, the fluorescents overhead giving everything a sickly green pallor. He parked and looked over at Rory. “You want anything?” he asked, his voice low. “Motel 6 about three miles east, figured we’d stop for the night.”
Though he’d spent the majority of his life avoiding this kind of life, Rory was catching up fast. Every conversation he’d ever overheard, every bit of advice he’d ever ignored, was all coming back to him bit by bit. He couldn’t make decisions the way he used to. Now he had to really focus on the potential consequences if he slipped up. The stress was wearing him thin, but they were still alive somehow, so it seemed to be paying off. Between the two of them they knew enough to remain one step ahead, maybe even two or three. They were maybe at the point that they could relax a bit, but it was a gamble Rory didn’t want to take, a novelty for him.
Rory knew they needed to stop stealing cars. They needed to buy one with cash and a false ID, but that required a hookup he no longer had. Every single contact he had was useless now; they all led back to his family. He didn’t have the means to keep them quiet and certainly not the loyalty. All he had was Wes and the trust there was so fragile that he felt like one wrong move might break it. He knew, just as Wes did, that it would be easier to disappear alone. But that also meant letting a liability go. Rory had never killed a man and wasn’t going to start now. And if Wes was going to kill him, he would’ve done it when he’d been ordered to. It gave Rory a headache just thinking about it, so he tried not to. He stretched as they pulled into the gas station, his body aching from being in the car all day. “Pack of Marlboro Lights. Or, no, just a six pack of beer.” He was going through those things too damn fast these days. He didn’t need to outrun the mob just to die of lung cancer.
Wes smiled faintly -- those two things were on his mental list too, except he didn’t smoke Lights. The beer was a definite must, so it would end up being two six packs, he supposed. Not the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. They’d drank enough times on this fucked up little road trip that Wes even knew what brand Rory wanted without having to ask. He ran a hand through his blond hair -- getting shaggy now, but he didn’t want to cut it just yet, the less he looked like himself, the better -- and picked up his black ballcap to pull down over it. As he usually did, he felt a flicker of unease as he opened the driver’s side door to get out, painfully aware that Rory could just slide over and take off without him. He would be well and truly fucked if Rory decided to turn on him and go back to his family to beg their forgiveness and protection. So far it hadn’t happened, but part of Wes was still braced for it. He was a nobody, Rory was Rory fucking Deangelo. It was constantly terrifying and the stress was wearing him down too. Which was why he needed beer, and a lot of it. “Be back in a few,” he said before he got out to go into the convenience store.
As far as Rory could see it, going home wasn’t an option. Even if his family didn’t kill him, they wouldn’t get him out of this mess. He’d spent all his get out of jail free cards and now had to deal with the consequences. Which, if Wes’s boss found him, would be his head on a stake. Or at the bottom of some lake. He was sure there were people much more creative than he was at disposing of bodies. A knot settled in the pit of his stomach as he watched Wes climb from the car and walk into the gas station. This part always made him nervous, the threat of being recognized. They’d been careful, there was no reason for the police to be looking for them specifically, but he knew his father had men on the inside of the NYPD. All it would take was a little tip. Even still, someone could be watching for stolen plates. There were cameras everywhere and they caught everything. Rory watched out his window, tracking Wes’s movements and doing his best to remain calm. They weren’t going to get caught, so long as they continued to be careful.
Since Rory’s face was much more recognizable to the wrong people than Wes’s was, he was usually the one who did the store runs. If he was being honest, part of him thought that was because he was worth less, too. Not in a sad-sap way but just in the way that no one in his family had any money. He couldn’t be held for ransom, they would just kill him if they found him. Wes was far from eager to die, but if it came down to that, at least Rory would have a chance to get away. That was why Wes was in this clusterfuck of a mess, wasn’t it? He walked into the gas station with one hand in his jacket pocket, subtly glancing at the corners of the place as he stepped inside. Cameras, of course. Whether they were actually recording out here in the boring-ass boonies, Wes didn’t know. He kept his head down anyway as he walked to the cooler. He pulled out a case of beer for the both of them and grabbed some beef jerky and a bag of chips on his way to the counter. Wes got himself a couple of packs of Camels and Rory’s pack of Marlboro Lights. He might not want them yet, but he definitely would once they started drinking. The exchange with the clerk was normal and fine, in spite of the sick feeling in Wes’s stomach, and a minute later he was stowing it all in the backseat and climbing back into the car. “Got your smokes anyway,” he said to Rory.
Rory breathed a sigh of relief when Wes returned, the knot in his stomach dissipating a little. Wes might be less recognizable, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. As far as he was concerned, neither one of them were expendable. “Thanks,” he said, lips quirking up in a small smile. “I think I’ve had more in the last few weeks than all of last year, but now’s probably a bad time to think about cutting back.” Who was he kidding? He didn’t think he could forgo his smokes until he felt safe again and that was likely a pipe dream. Even if he successfully disappeared, he’d be watching his back the rest of his life. They both would be. As Wes pulled back onto the road, Rory pulled out his phone, a burner he’d picked up about a week after they started running. He didn’t dare log in to any of his accounts, but it allowed him to search the web and watch for any information pertaining to them. The less out there, the better. But he’d already done that earlier in the day, so instead he pulled up Candy Crush. That was less stressful by a mile. “How’re we on cash?”
It was a relief to be back on the road. Wes felt a little more protected when they were actually moving. So far they hadn’t stayed more than two nights in one place -- the paranoia started hitting them hard after about the forty-eight hour mark. Wes wasn’t sure if this spot in the West Virginia back hills would feel isolated enough to relax slightly for a few days, but he hoped so. He was so tired, even sharing the driving with Rory. He ditched the hat and settled back in his seat, running his fingers through his hair again. “Uhh ... think we got about two-twenty left,” he said, glancing over at Rory’s profile. There was a certain way strands of his hair escaped the tuck behind his ear that always gave Wes a weird pang. It made him want to brush it back into place, and that was probably a bad feeling to have. He looked back at the road, glad that motel was so close. He was dying for a beer. “We’ll need gas soon though.”
Two-twenty. It sounded like a decent amount until gas and lodging came into the picture. Rory knew they’d burn through it in a few days and then they’d have to find another place to rob. The first time they’d done it, Rory thought he was going to have a panic attack. He hadn’t, thank God, but it still freaked him out. And then they were both on edge for hours afterwards, even after changing cars. It was a cycle that they needed to break, but Rory only had about half a plan mapped out in his head. He couldn’t put it into motion until all the pieces were in place. “We should look for some place we can hang out for a few days and lay low. I might… I have an idea, but…” He stopped and shook his head, frustrated at his inability to come up with all the answers. “Sorry, I’m still putting it all together. I’ll think better after a few hours sleep, you know?”
Holding up gas stations was shitty, Wes didn’t like doing it, but he’d started out his criminal career that way, so maybe it was karma that he’d been forced back into doing it in an even shittier life than he’d had. Joining the Genovese family was supposed to improve his fortune, not lead to ... this. He knew this couldn’t last forever, they would get caught eventually, either by the cops or someone worse, but Wes felt trapped between a rock and hard place. They had to do what they had to in order to survive, but there had to be a plan to move into. He and Rory had talked in circles about it once or twice so far, getting nowhere good yet. Wes was pretty sure Rory was smarter than he was, but he had a track record of bad decisions, so not having a plan was pretty fucking scary. All they could do was keep trying though. “This place is pretty cheap and isolated, so we’ll see how we feel,” Wes said, nodding a bit. He needed some sleep too. But even more he needed some beer. “Good night’s sleep will do us good.”
Rory nodded in quiet agreement and watched Wes drive for a moment before tearing his eyes away. If Genovese had kept his mouth shut, it would’ve been easier to casually admire Wes, but he didn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable. It would’ve been easier if there’d been more space between them, but sharing a motel room didn’t afford either of them much privacy. He was sure he’d been caught staring once or twice, but Wes either hadn’t noticed or had politely ignored it. And Rory kept trying to quit. Ogling straight guys was a bad habit he didn’t need to indulge in. He began to stretch his legs as the motel came into view, eager to get out of the car and relax. That’s where the beer was supposed to help. He was sure they both needed to unwind a little.
The check in went like most other check ins at places like this -- quiet and straightforward and without a lot of eye contact with the cretin behind the desk. He reeked of alcohol and stale cigarettes anyway. Wes paid in cash and got out of the office quickly, back to the car to drive them around to the back side of the big building. He never expected much from these rooms, and that was usually what they got, but his heart sank when they unlocked the door and walked in ... to only one bed. Wes was sure he’d asked for a double. “Fuck,” he exhaled sharply, looking over at Rory with a furrowed brow. He didn’t want to go back there and cause a fuss. People remembered customers who asked for changes much more than they remembered those who were just in and out. Sighing, Wes walked fully into the motel room and dropped his backpack on one of the ratty chairs inside. “I’ll take the floor,” he said. “We’ll see if we can switch rooms in the morning, when the night guy is gone.” He was too tired to deal with this shit, he just wanted to chug some beers and go to sleep.
Rory stood back, slowly shutting the door as he assessed the situation. It was like life was torturing him now, putting him in situations where he had to figure out the right decision, one that would cause the least waves and keep the peace, but also put his sanity at risk. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers over his hair, smoothing it back. “It’s not a big deal,” he said, though he knew it could be to some guys. But if he downplayed it, then he wouldn’t have to manage the guilt of having Wes sleep on the floor after being behind the wheel for the last five hours. It would be torture, but he thought he could handle it. “Don’t sleep on the floor. I promise to keep my hands to myself,” he said, trying to make light of it. “Or at least… chill and be comfortable until it’s time to pass out. I wanna jump in the shower first.”
Wes knew that Rory liked men as well as women ... he’d known that even before the Genovese boss had tried to shame him for it. He’d been tasked with following the guy around for a couple of months before everything had come to a head, and the people who knew everything about the family’s targets had briefed him on Rory’s social habits. Wes had to admire it, being out in this sort of life. God knew he couldn’t do it. But it had fostered this weird, inconvenient crush that made possibly sharing a bed super awkward. It definitely made showers awkward, and Wes’s stomach gave that certain tingly squeeze that he’d felt so many times now. “Okay,” he muttered, turning back toward the door. “Help yourself. I’ll grab the beer.” And maybe he would be halfway through his half of the case before Rory got done in the shower.
When they’d first hit the road together, Rory had gone a full five days before he’d given in and showered, fearing for every second that he was in there that he’d come out to find Wes gone. Even taking a shit had put him on edge. The only thing worse than being caught was being stranded and every time he stepped into the bathroom left Wes the opportunity to cut and run. He felt like they were past that now, that they’d found some kind of alliance for the time being, and that afforded him the luxury of being clean. He didn’t rush like he’d done that first month, figuring now that if Wes was going to leave it didn’t matter if it was a three minute shower of a twenty minute one, and finally took the chance to shave. By the time he emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his skin was pink from the hot water. “Anything on TV?” Rory asked as he went to grab his sweatpants and a beer.
Wes had felt the same paranoia about Rory abandoning him, but if it hadn’t happened in the first couple of weeks, he’d figured it wasn’t going to. It at least wasn’t worth bellyaching about all the time. That was what he tried to tell himself, anyway. He fetched the case of beer and the snacks from the car, then turned the TV on and sat to take his boots off. By the time Rory emerged from the steamy bathroom, Wes was stretched out on the bed, his head and shoulders propped up with pillows, his second beer already halfway gone. He looked over, saw that Rory was only wearing a towel, and quickly tore his eyes away to look at the television again. “Just uh ... some late night bullshit,” he said, lifting his beer can from where it was resting on his stomach to drink down the rest of it. It was always so hard not to stare when Rory wasn’t fully dressed. Wes could manage going through normal daily life and protecting his secret, but living in such close quarters with an attractive man was proving really difficult. “How’s the water pressure?”
If Rory had had any clue that Wes wasn’t entirely straight, he might have shown a little more discretion, but in his experience heterosexual guys could care less about his state of undress. It was usually the other way around, that they became uncomfortable when they thought he was looking at something he shouldn’t. Rory watched the tv for a second before losing interest, then took a long sip of his beer before answering. “It’s okay. Better than the last place for sure. And hot,” he said as he padded back towards the bathroom to step inside and pull on his sweatpants. He’d get to his shirt eventually, when he felt like he’d cooled down a little. He missed showers back home, in the high rise apartment, where he could run the hot water for so long that his fingers pruned up. He’d learned that comparisons like that only stung with regret. Returning to the room, he took a seat on the bed, taking another big gulp from the can before towel drying his hair. “I’ve been thinking about where we might want to head next and I think we should maybe head back up north. If we keep going down south, we’re gonna increase our chances of hitting up a place where they’ve got bigger guns than we do.”
At least Rory hadn’t dropped trou in front of him, something that Wes was both grateful for and frustrated by. It was confusing. It was a confusion he’d carried around with him for years and years, but he’d never been in the position of feeling it so intensely all the time. On top of the stress of their lives being in danger, Wes was feeling worn thin. Like something somewhere was going to give. He just hoped it wouldn’t be in a blaze of temper. That had only ever made everything worse for him. All of that consternation was hidden beneath his carefully-cultivated poker face as he gave shirtless Rory the briefest of glances when he sat on the bed. Wes had shoved as many of the cans of beer as he could fit into the tiny, tired mini fridge in the room, and he got up to go grab another two of them, one to drink and one to be next. He needed to be drunk, and he wished there’d been a liquor store open, but cheap beer would have to do. “Up north?” he echoed, glancing back at Rory as he popped the top on his new can. Wes returned to his side of the bed, sitting up now rather than lounging. “Like, how far north? To the border?” They’d fled from New York, and he wasn’t sure now how he felt about going back in that direction.
“Yeah, maybe,” Rory said as he finished off his first beer. He didn’t normally down them so fast, but he wasn’t hanging out at the bar with his friends. He was drinking to take the edge off, to find that soft fuzzy feeling that came with a good buzz. He had to slow his brain down, otherwise he’d exhaust himself with trying to plan before he finally crashed. What he really needed was sleep and he’d never had trouble getting there once drunk. “We could head up towards Michigan, but I kind of feel locked in up there, surrounded by water. It’d be better if we could get up to Vermont, New Hampshire, maybe Maine. We’d be right there at the border if we need to cross and there’s lots of little dead end towns we could disappear into.” The only bad part was that they had to go back through New York to get there. Rolling out of bed and to his feet, Rory dropped his can in the trash and retrieved another from the fridge, following Wes’ plan and grabbing a second, just so he wouldn’t have to get back up again. “What’d you do before you got into this business?” He asked as he returned to the bed.
Wes thought going further into the northeast was boxing themselves in too, but he supposed that running into Canada on the ground was easier than doing it over the water. He got an unpleasant flash of the two of them trying to make it through the Maine woods in the dead of winter on foot. God, it made him feel like his stomach was tied up in knots. It likely wouldn’t be that dramatic, but his mind couldn’t help but go in that direction. He took a slow breath while Rory got up, trying not to look like he wanted to puke into his beer can. “Yeah, I guess maybe that’s a good idea,” he murmured when Rory returned, then took a gulp of beer. The question was a small distraction, at least. “Uh ... a lotta odd jobs,” he said, giving Rory a brief glance. “I’m pretty handy with cars, learned some plumbing shit from my uncle ... I can put up drywall. Holding up liquor stores and beatin’ people up and selling pills seemed like an easier way to make more money ... fuckin’ stupid.” Wes gave a huff and shook his head a bit, rubbing at his blond scruff with one hand as he shook his head.
To be totally honest, Rory didn’t know where the best place to go was. He just knew that if they continued to go south, they’d eventually stand out. He could hide his accent for a conversation or two, but not indefinitely. So hiding someplace closer to home actually sounded safer, provided they had a solid escape plan. Rory popped the top on his beer, sipping from it as he listened, a little smile slipping into place as he watched Wes talk. It was happening more often lately, when he was relaxed and not watching himself as carefully. If he’d been aware, he’d have schooled his expression better. “It is easier, if you can get away with it.” So far, they had. Well, Wes had. Rory had spent more time on the business side of things, ensuring that operations ran smoothly. “It’s been so long since I did something outside this business that it’s hard to come up with anything else, but… contractor jobs will be good eventually.” If they found a place to settle. If they were still together. Rory didn’t want to go down that path again, aware of how sour it made him, so he drank some more of his beer.
Wes grunted softly as he took another swallow from his beer. A gentle looseness was starting up in his body, that warmth that wasn’t quite being drunk but was on the way. He knew he would eventually have to go back to manual labor to make enough money to live on, as much as he didn’t really want to do that. Wes didn’t see another option though. There was nobody he could go to for help. Nobody who wasn’t connected to the life he’d just fled. He had Rory for now, for however long this lasted, but there were no guarantees there either. “What did you do? For your, uh ... family?” he asked, blue gaze sliding to Rory’s face again. When he drank from the can, his bottom lip looked really nice ... and that was probably the dumbest thing to notice about a person. “Might be easier for you to find work,” he added quietly, as an explanation for why he was prying. “We’ll need some different names, fake IDs, that kinda shit ... but I know a lotta construction sites hire under the table, the Mexicans, y’know?” Besides the tiny body buzz, apparently his tongue was getting looser too.
“We hired ‘em for all kinds of things,” Rory nodded, his mind having already gone in that direction, except that he’d thought it would be easier for Wes. He hadn’t done manual labor since he was sixteen years old and doubted he could fake his way around a construction site. He could picture Wes there-- hard hat, a fitted tee, dripping with sweat-- and quickly realized he needed to steer clear of that image. “I managed things,” he said. He figured it didn’t hurt to talk now that he was officially out of the business. It wasn’t like he could go back. “Usually product, sometimes people, sometimes finances. If I could put it on a resume, I’d be something like a project manager,” he said with a little laugh as he finished off his second beer. He was decent at it, but he’d been soft when he was younger, still was at times, and his family thought less of him for it. Like there was something wrong with him for not wanting to break someone’s kneecaps just because they were late again on a payment. “Getting fakes should be easy. We can do it anonymously through the web. But we’ve got to stay in one place long enough to receive ‘em.”
Wes thought that Rory was somewhat soft too, but it wasn’t a bad thing in his mind. All of the machismo bullshit he’d been raised with -- as much as he’d been ‘raised’ at all -- had contributed to all of his problems. It had kept Wes in the closet for so long and led him into a life he thought would be ‘manly’ enough to hide in, and he’d been so miserable for years. Rory was softer ... and that made Wes want to touch him. His hair, his skin, his bare torso sitting less than an arm’s length away. Soft was relative anyway, because Rory was obviously much stronger than he was, to be out and living his life how he wanted. Before now, anyway. Nobody wanted this. Wes tilted his head back to drain the last of his current beer, then set it aside and cracked open the next one. They were both drinking with purpose tonight. “You can do that online?” he asked with a bit of surprise, then stifled a belch. “I didn’t know. That’d be helpful. We’ll find somewhere to stop for a while. North, like you said. And there’s always projects around to manage, right?”
Rory had learned in college that you could do anything online if you knew where to look. The real trick was siphoning out the scams and landing on something of value. He’d have rather procured fake IDs in person because he could see examples of the product up front, but even people working on the dark web had reviews via word of mouth. It wasn’t work he was eager to get started on, always worried that someone was going to take him for a fool and he’d be unable to do anything about it, but obtaining identification was the first step in setting up a completely new identity that would allow them to stop running. Rory could tell they were both hitting their limits and needed a break. “There’s always projects,” he agreed as he stretched, an attempt to relieve some of the tension that never quite dissipated. He rested the beer can on his stomach as he laid back, popping the top and managing to spill a few drops on himself in the process. He brushed at the spilled beer, then sucked the beer off his thumb before continuing. “But people don’t always let you start at that level. They want you to prove yourself, show you know their business. Most of the stuff I know is illegal.”
That thumb-suck gave Wes a tingle that it definitely shouldn’t have, but it wasn’t like he could stop himself from feeling things. Especially while he was drinking. Maybe a full case of beer hadn’t been a good idea, considering he hadn’t eaten in hours. But the stress was starting to get muted, and that was the whole point. Wes wanted to rest, sleep, not think for a while. This conversation wasn’t helping with that, but it was still shit they needed to talk about. Because otherwise Wes wasn’t sure he would be able to concentrate on anything but the relaxed bulge in Rory’s sweats that became much more obvious when he laid back. Not for the first time, Wes wondered how big his cock was. He took another deep drink from his can. His head was starting to feel swimmy, and he was dumbly grateful for it. “Yeah, me too. But we’ll figure somethin’ out,” he muttered. Wes got up and went to crouch and rummage around in his bag, pulling out some more comfortable clothes to lounge and sleep in, then grabbed another beer from the fridge as well. “I’m gonna grab a shower too,” he told Rory as he headed that way. Maybe by the time he was done he would be drunk and ready for sleep.
“Enjoy,” Rory said, his eyes tracking Wes as he disappeared into the bathroom. When the door shut, his attention moved over to the television for a moment, and he chugged the rest of his beer in one go. Another would likely do it if he wasn’t there already, his empty stomach hurrying along the process. Rory heard the water turn on in the bathroom and he closed his eyes for a moment, indulging in the mental image of Wes stripping down and stepping into the shower. His cock twitched and Rory’s hand dropped to adjust himself, lingering as he gave himself a little squeeze. Sharing a bed with Wes was going to be its own special kind of hell, especially after weeks of nothing, not even a quick jerk off in the shower. At least he’d be clean, a tiny blessing considering how the scent of a man could turn him on. Rory bit his lip as his cock began to swell and pulled his hand away. If he didn’t stop now, he was going to have a problem by the time Wes emerged.
Since he’d become resigned to the fact that Rory would either leave him or not, Wes had been taking longer showers. He hadn’t risked taking ones long enough to jerk off quite yet, and for the most part he wasn’t exactly horny anyway due to all the stress, but maybe tonight would be different. If they were going to end up sharing a bed, maybe tonight should be different. He stripped off his travel-dirty clothes and left them in a pile, turned the water on, and stepped under the hot spray. Wes just stood there for a while, letting the heat sink into him and drinking another can of beer before he started to lather up. When he got to his crotch, it wasn’t difficult to coax an erection to life, and Wes gave himself a few strokes, thinking about how it was going to feel to share a bed with Rory, and all the things he wished that could lead to. After a few minutes guilt got the better of him and he stopped. He shouldn’t be thinking that way, especially not about the man he was on the run with. Rory didn’t need to be subjected to all of Wes’s baggage, he had enough problems. Cheeks burning with a deep-running shame, Wes quickly finished his shower and got out. He dried off and pulled on the fresh(ish) flannel pants and thin t-shirt he planned to sleep in. He emerged feeling much more drunk than he’d gone in, nicely numb. He wanted it that way. Wes shuffled toward ‘his side’ of the bed again, shooting not so subtle glances at Rory.
While Wes had finished up his shower, Rory had gotten himself under control, then decided he needed another beer. He knew now it was one beer too many, that he was well past the fuzzy buzz and likely to end up nice and drunk. Rory generally enjoyed being drunk—he could be fun and maybe a bit of a flirt—but anyone who knew him knew he made the absolute worst decisions while drunk. It was when he lost the most money while gambling, staying a bit too long and getting cocky about bets that weren’t even that great. He hadn’t thought it would be a problem, not until Wes emerged from the bathroom. Rory cursed under his breath and pulled his knees up, just in case he couldn’t handle Wes looking like a sleepy teddy bear. He was pretty sure that wasn’t a description the man often had directed at him, but it felt fitting at the moment and Rory realized he was staring. “Did you have a girl back home? Before…?” He wasn’t sure what possessed him to ask, except that he imagined anyone who got to curl up with Wes had to enjoy it. It was going to be a struggle to keep his hands to himself as promised and Rory had the feeling he’d have to move to the floor if he wanted to avoid making things uncomfortable.
It seemed like a fairly random question, especially considering the timing, and it caught Wes off guard. He hesitated as he sat down on the bed again and set what was left in his beer can aside. He really didn’t need to drink anymore, but he wasn’t feeling at the point of passing out yet, and he really kind of wanted to. If he was sharing a bed with Rory, he wanted to be as unconscious as possible. But why was Rory asking him about girls? Did he know? Panic flared briefly in Wes’s chest, but he managed to keep it under wrap. “No girls, no,” he answered in a murmur, stretching out on the bed. Wes stayed on top of the covers for the moment, his skin overheated with alcohol. “I mean, uh ... there were girls, of course, but not like, a girl, y’know?” It was only a half lie -- there had definitely not been A Girl, but Wes hadn’t been sleeping around either. He’d had sex with women in the past, they just didn’t do a whole lot for him overall. It was easier to lie about it like he was some kind of player than explain away the truth. “Did you leave anybody behind?” he asked in a murmur, rolling onto his side to look over at Rory.
Rory had only asked about girls because he figured that’s what Wes was into. If he’d had any idea that he had a chance with him, it would’ve been significantly harder to keep away. In his experience, you didn’t hit on straight guys, especially the super masculine ones, lest they feel threatened and need to beat you to a pulp just to prove they weren’t gay. Such a waste, he thought, eyes lazily sweeping over Wes. Anyone who had a chance with him was damn lucky. “Me? No,” he answered with a little laugh. “It’s been a while since anyone.” There’d been a girl about a year ago, but she kept thinking he was looking at men, which wasn’t entirely wrong, but he’d never cheated on her. She just couldn’t get over the idea that he liked both and eventually Rory got tired of defending himself. He knew it was a common problem, but he hadn’t liked her enough to work through it.
Wes noticed the way Rory looked him over, and it made something in his stomach twist pleasantly. He was so cute when he laughed, too. Wes’s cheeks felt a tiny bit warm, and he had to focus harder to really comprehend Rory’s words. He already kind of knew that Rory didn’t have a current significant other due to the intel he’d been given when he’d started tailing him, but he kind of liked having the confirmation all the same. He didn’t fucking know why it mattered, because they were now on the lam and had to cut ties with their old lives ... but it did matter somehow. At least a little. “Maybe that’s good,” he murmured softly, gazing at the other man’s face. “One less person to miss.” Now they each only had one person, really. Everybody left in their lives was currently in this shitty motel bed. It made Wes want to reach out for him even more and made his throat hurt a little. He swallowed thickly and rolled onto his back again. “Ready to sleep?” he asked a bit gruffly.
“Yeah, maybe,” Rory mumbled back, though his mind was elsewhere, playing out a fantasy that he needed to scrub from his mind right that instant. Wes was a good man, he’d saved his life, and he didn’t deserve to be the subject of such lewd imaginings. It was good that he hadn’t left anyone behind, otherwise there’d be more guilt stacked on the ever growing pile. “Yeah, that’s a…good idea,” he said, then reached to turn off the light before attempting to settle in. Despite all that he’d had to drink, he felt wide awake, distinctly aware of Wes lying in bed beside him. Rory started on his back, then realized that wasn’t going to work, that he couldn’t get comfortable like that. He rolled onto his side, facing Wes, but that was worse for all the wrong reasons. He couldn’t take his eyes off him, considered reaching out to him, pressing up against him, and when he started to get hard he turned away instead. He needed to get himself under control. Maybe four beers had been a really bad idea.
Wes turned off the lamp on his own side too, then found the remote and turned the TV off as well. They were plunged into shadows, the only light coming from the cracks in the closed curtains, yellow from the sodium lights outside in the parking lot. Wes could hear the heater running. Someone sharing one of their walls was watching TV very loudly. Wes could feel the bed shift every time Rory moved, and it made him feel more and more awake and like his whole body was tingly and overly aware. Moving carefully himself, Wes moved the covers from underneath him to over him, hoping that actually being in bed would help him get sleepy, because the beers didn’t seem to actually be doing the trick. He laid there for what felt like a long time, listening to Rory breathe over the thudding of his own heart in his ears. Eventually, Wes rolled onto his side to face his bed partner. It wasn’t a big bed, and Wes could feel his warmth under the blanket, and fuck, he was drawn to it. Maybe Rory was asleep now. One small touch couldn’t hurt, right? People needed to be touched, it was just a human thing. Right? Slowly, Wes let one of his hands drift closer and closer to that warmth, until the backs of his knuckles were touching the back of Rory’s neck. It could’ve been a sleepy accident, but Wes’s eyes were wide open and there was a warm electricity humming in him. He curled his fingers to give Rory’s skin a tiny caress.
Rory felt like he should have been asleep, but he wasn’t. His slow, rhythmic breathing was the result of him trying to calm his body down, to forget about the man sleeping behind him. It was just starting to work when he felt Wes’s touch on the back of his neck and his whole body seemed to come alive. His heart sped up, goosebumps covered his skin, and his cock chubbed up once more. He’s asleep, he told himself, but he didn’t know that for sure and the prospect that Wes wasn’t made it impossible to ignore. His brain was far too fuzzy to distinguish if the touch had been intentional or not, not without seeing Wes, and he found himself slowly rolling over against his better judgement. He was so close that Rory could feel his warmth and he reached out, fingers brushing over the front of Wes’s t-shirt as he took a shaky breath. If he was awake, he’d stop him, brush his arm away, shove a pillow between them to draw a hard line in the bed. And if he was asleep, Rory could know for sure and stop the rapid spinning of his imagination.
Wes’s cock, neglected for weeks now, was hard as a rock almost immediately when Rory rolled in a very deliberate way. He was awake. Or Wes had woken him up. But he wasn’t nudging Wes’s hand away or saying anything, and his breathing seemed ... well, it didn’t sound groggy to Wes. Maybe that was just wishful thinking or projecting or something, but the buzz that was still making his head feel all swimmy wouldn’t allow him to overthink anymore. He was so tired and so alone and he needed something good. Maybe they both did. It was easier to entertain the possibility that something could happen in the dark, and when Wes felt Rory’s hand brush his chest, some blockage inside of him broke. His heart felt like it tripled in speed instantly, and everything in him got tense. Before he could actually consciously make the decision, Wes shifted his body in closer. His hand was still near Rory’s neck, and he slipped it further to cup the back of it and quickly pulled their faces closer together. After the first poorly-aimed contact, the kiss had urgency behind it that Wes couldn’t hold back, a hunger he so rarely fed.
For one horrible second Rory thought that Wes might hit him, or push him out of bed. He felt his body tense up and that seemed like the most likely next step, but then something else happened. Wes shifted closer, his hand cupped the back of his neck, and Rory’s body figured out what was coming next before his brain did. He moved on instinct, his hand taking hold of Wes’s shirt to pull him closer while his mouth met Wes’s in a heated kiss. All the parts of his brain that would’ve normally brought on hesitation and doubt had thrown in the towel for the night, letting arousal and beer fueled confidence take over. He crowded Wes’s space, pressing him against him, and immediately felt the rigid outline of his dick up against his hip. If he hadn’t been fully hard before, he was now and he groaned softly as his hips shifted against Wes’s. He wanted more, wanted those big hands to find their way down his body and wrap around his cock, or even slip inside him. It was too much to think about, but also all he could think about. Now that he’d started kissing Wes, Rory found it impossible to stop.
Wes couldn’t think, and he didn’t want to. Not thinking was better, because Rory’s mouth felt so good on his, and his body was so warm and firm and there, and Wes’s cock ached so bad ... thinking would just make him stop, and he didn’t want to stop. He could feel Rory’s erection nudging against his, and the way he pushed his hips in like that sent sparky bolts of pleasure through him. He’d slid his arm around Rory, palm pressed against the warm skin of his bare back, and his grip tightened as he let out a soft sound of his own. He didn’t have a plan, he didn’t know how far this would go or if it was good or bad idea or any of that -- he was just running on overwhelming instinct now, and fuck, it felt incredible. Wes rocked his own hips a bit, rubbing his bulge against Rory’s as he delved his tongue into his mouth. He tasted like beer and sexiness, and Wes suddenly wished he had more hands to grope with. As it was, he slid the one at Rory’s back further down to caress and squeeze his ass.
Carnal instinct was driving Rory, along with a desire for more—more skin under his hands, more of Wes’s tongue in his mouth, and definitely more of his cock rubbing against his own. All those things would’ve been better with less clothes, so Rory pulled up on Wes’s shirt, urging it up over his head. Wes’s hands on his ass were the undoing of any focus he had left and he cursed as he rocked his hips against him. He’d never wanted quite like he did now, never felt so desperate. Rory’s teeth scraped over Wes’s bottom lip as his hands moved down to Wes’s hips, pushing his flannel pants down further. Maybe if he’d had a little less to drink, he would have hesitated for a moment, considered the consequences of what he was doing, but all that mattered now was riding the high of arousal. Wes’s hand on him made him feel better than he had in weeks, his kisses urging him on and waking him up like a shot of adrenaline. Any noise he could urge out of Wes made his cock throb and he slid his own hands lower, giving Wes’s ass a squeeze in return, this time without his pants in the way.
It wasn’t easy to take a t-shirt off when you were drunk and horny and lying on one side, but with Rory’s help Wes managed to get out of it. His mouth came right back to Rory’s as soon as the fabric was out of the way, and he groaned again as he felt the other man start to push his bottoms down. The sensation of a male hand on his bare ass was both electrifying and terrifying all at once, and Wes felt like his heart might just beat its way out of his ribs. There was some more squirming while he pushed his pj pants down and pushed them off with his feet, then he started to do the same to Rory’s, wanting both of them naked, exposed as equals. The second Wes felt Rory’s bare cock brush against his skin made him moan softly again, and he slipped his hand between them to wrap his fingers around it. It was hot and rock solid and so smooth, Wes already wanted it in his mouth. His experience with other men was pretty minimal -- he’d only fucked a few guys in his life, they’d all been strangers, and he’d been the top in every instance. He thought he’d been desperate then, every fiber of his being crying out for some release, but those feelings hadn’t compared to this one. He felt like he needed this -- needed Rory -- to stay alive. Still hungrily kissing him, Wes started to stroke Rory’s cock, his grip light enough to tease.
It took little to no urging to get Rory’s pants off—As soon as Wes gave them a tug, he was helping them down, kicking them somewhere beneath the covers. Full skin on skin was what he’d wanted, the warmth of his skin pressed against his and the ability to touch without a barrier of clothing. The only thing that would’ve made it better would’ve been to actually see Wes in all his glory, but Rory didn’t even consider turning on the light. Instead, he let his hands be his eyes, taking in Wes with palms that slid down his back again, over his ass, holding there before attempting further exploration. He hitched one leg over Wes’s, drawing him in as Wes’s hand dropped between them to wrap around his cock. Rory whined, a noise more desperate and wanton than he’d thought himself capable of, and squeezed Wes’s ass in a silent plea for more. What he got was a tease that made him shiver and his own hand slid down between them to return the favor. Gentle fingers stroked up the length of Wes’s dick, then slid lightly around the head, taking in every inch of the man before giving his dick a good, solid stroke. The things he wanted to do with Wes and his glorious cock were endless, but this was a good place to start.
As much as he wanted to ogle all of Rory, Wes definitely didn’t want the light on. With as skittish as he was already feeling, any light would just send him scurrying for cover like the cockroach he felt he was. He’d never been comfortable fucking in a lot of light, especially with men, and this time was no different. Rory was doing a great job of creating plenty of sparks behind his eyelids though, and Wes had to stop kissing for a moment to pull in a shaky breath as teasing, needy pleasure rolled up his spine from Rory’s hand on his cock. His hands felt good everywhere, of course -- Wes couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so thoroughly touched, and it felt so fucking amazing -- but that grip around the most sensitive part of him was incredible. Wes pushed his hips forward without thinking, his body craving More and trying to fuck into Rory’s hand, even as he tightened his own grip around the other man’s hardon. Wes wanted to taste him, to turn him over and fuck him, anything he could get, but he didn’t feel like he could move from where he was, as though shifting position might make it all stop. He was currently feeling pretty sure he would die if that happened. So he kept stroking Rory’s dick, caught up in the avalanche of feelings inside of him.
Rory smiled against Wes’s lips as the other man thrust back into his hand, enjoying how eager he was for a brief moment before Wes began to stroke him and he groaned, pushing back into Wes’s hand, just as Wes has done to him. There was so much he wanted to do, but going for it meant giving up his current position and Wes’s hand felt incredible around him. Those damn hands, he wanted them everywhere, on his dick, in his ass, and hair, and mouth, though he wanted to taste Wes’s cock even more. He knew it would be rough and wild, that Wes would likely fuck his mouth and pull his hair, but that appealed to him at the moment. And he wanted Wes to fuck him something fierce, to pin him down on the bed and take him from behind. It didn’t occur to him at the moment that he didn’t have lube; it wasn’t something he carried on him and he’d never imagined it was something he’d need to pick up while on the lam. His brain wasn’t making those kinds of connections at the moment, only thinking about how much he wanted it as he thrust into Wes’s grip. Each slip of that hand down his cock fed his thirst for more and it was only a matter of time before he gave in to the craving and went for it.
Lube wasn’t on Wes’s mind either. Not much actually was on his mind, all rational thought blotted out by the raging desire to fuck. All he could think about was getting his throbbing cock into Rory somehow, dying to feel that tight hot grip around him. His hand did feel good, but it needed to be more, tighter, wetter, something. Wes wanted to put weight on him, hold him down, make him cry out, fuck him however he wanted. The desire was getting frenzied in his beer-soaked brain, and he rocked his hips a bit faster, craving that friction around his dick. A small part of him was aware that everything he wanted might be Too Much though. Wes still had to look Rory in the eye in the morning. He’d gotten attached to the guy in this crisis in their lives, and he didn’t want to scare him off. This might already do it, he didn’t know, but pushing to rough fuck him if he wasn’t into that would definitely do it. The solution that popped into Wes’s head was to make sure Rory got pleasure too. So he forced himself to break away from the kiss and pushed himself downward with his elbow, his hand moving to Rory’s hip to get him to roll onto his back. As soon as he could reach it, Wes took Rory’s cock into his mouth and started sucking hard.
Rory knew that at some point he’d need something more than a dry hand on his cock, but he hadn’t expected it to be Wes’s mouth. His frustration began to mount the moment Wes pulled his hand away, not fully comprehending where it was going until Wes began to slide down the bed. He shifted onto his back at Wes’s urging, barely there before Wes’s mouth wrapped around him and he lost all ability to think. “Fuck,” he moaned, sliding his feet up the bed as his hips lifted towards Wes’s mouth. It was so intense that he gasped with each suck that Wes took, only able to fight the urge to thrust for about half a minute before giving up. Rory wished he could see him then, the way Wes’s mouth looked wrapped around his dick, but that would probably be too much for him in his current state. He wanted this to last a little longer before coming, though at the rate Wes was moving it wouldn’t exactly take long to get him there.
‘Fuck’ just about covered it, but Wes’s mouth was too occupied to echo the sentiment out loud. Rory’s cock felt incredible in his mouth, hot and hard but so smooth against his tongue. He tasted clean but with a hint of his own masculine smell that made Wes’s stomach feel like it was all twisted up in knots. They were good ones though, for once. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good and so bad about something at the same time. Saving Rory had come close, but that had been a very different sort of good feeling. And when Rory started thrusting into his mouth, Wes felt like he might die of need. Suddenly aware of the intensity, Wes walked it back some, easing up on Rory’s cock and slowing down the bobbing of his head. He pulled it out of his mouth briefly to run his tongue up and down the sides and swirl it around the sensitive head. He did want to make him come, but he didn’t want it to be in the next minute or two, either. Who knew when this would happen again. Wes hummed as he took Rory into his mouth again, thoroughly exploring him with his tongue.
As Wes slowed the pacing, Rory began to relax into it, his hips stilling so Wes could explore his cock a bit. He released his grip on the sheets and slid them down into Wes’s hair as his heart began to slow and the tightness in his balls eased up a bit. He wanted to come, would be pissed if he didn’t get there eventually, but he was glad to get more than a minute or two with Wes’s tongue. It was the first time that Rory could form a coherent thought and he wondered if Wes had done this before. It felt like he had, but then guys knew what guys liked in ways that girls never would. And while there didn’t seem to be an ounce of hesitation, he was drunk enough to know that that was probably due to the beer. That was as far as he got before he gave up on thinking, his head falling back on the pillow as he groaned softly. He wanted a taste of his own once Wes was done with him. He knew the desire to doze would be strong, but the chance to taste Wes’s cock would make it worth it.
Wes had had more practice with sucking cocks than the actual fucking part, so he felt a little more confident about his mouth than the rest of it. Besides that, Rory had a really nice cock and it felt pretty damn good sliding between his lips, warm and heavy against his tongue. Imagining what it might feel like slipping into his ass gave him a sweet throb deep in his stomach and made him grunt softly. Wes liked how fingers felt in his hair -- it was kind of shaggy these days, so there was plenty to grab hold of. Wes bobbed his head slowly, flicking the underside of Rory’s cock with his tongue every so often. He paid attention to what seemed to feel the best and did more of that. Being drunk was definitely helping him get absorbed into the moment, and he started to lose all track of time as he enjoyed working on Rory’s cock. After a little while Wes shifted his position a bit and reached down with one hand to give his own dick a few teasing strokes.
Rory lost himself in the feel of Wes’s mouth around him, the soft slickness of his teasing just enough to keep him on edge. Every once and a while his hips would lift and he’d press himself further into Wes’s mouth, but he mostly managed to keep himself under control, wanting to draw it out as long as he could. When he felt the bed shift, Rory opened his eyes, but he was unable to see what had changed in the dark. It took a second to figure it out, Wes’s arm brushing against his leg in too slow a rhythm to get him there, but just the thought of it made him groan. “Save some for me,” he murmured, his voice deep and breathy. He gave Wes’s hair a little tug, suddenly wanting more, eager to spill into his mouth and see if Wes would suck him dry. Just thinking about it brought him closer and he knew it wouldn’t be long now if Wes kept that up.
God, those soft words and that pull in his hair was so hot, it sent electricity down Wes’s spine. He squeezed his cock tighter and moaned around Rory’s, pleasant visions filling his head of what Rory’s mouth would look like stretched around him. He wasn’t going to actually get to see much of it in the dark, but Wes could imagine it well enough. It had been so long since he’d let someone get him off in any way, he hoped he didn’t come in like two seconds and embarrass himself. It was difficult to think negatively at the moment though -- he loved what he was doing and Rory’s reaction to it, that delicious tension slowly building in his body. Wes got the sense it was time, so he sucked harder and bobbed his head a bit faster, wanting to feel Rory come in his mouth, wanting to taste all of him.
All it took was Wes working him a little harder and Rory knew it was going to lose it. He could feel the tension building towards release, his balls tightening as his hips jerked towards Wes’s mouth, and then he came so hard he could feel it through every fiber in his body. “Fuck. Fuck,” he groaned, hands fisting his Wes’s hair as he rode out his orgasm. Whether it was the beer or the skill of Wes’s mouth and tongue on him, Rory couldn’t remember the last time a blow job felt so good and he didn’t want it to end. He wanted Wes to crawl up his body and kiss him, to taste himself on Wes’s tongue as his body pressed down on him, to feel his cock pressing against his ass. He wanted to experience everything Wes had to offer because now might be the only chance he got. If this was just a booze fuelled fantasy then why the hell not?
Wes gave a twitch as hot thick liquid hit the back of his throat with a pressure that was impressive, but he managed to swallow without choking or coughing, and then he was greedily sucking Rory through the rest of his orgasm. He didn’t taste bad, just salty and strongly male, and it made Wes’s stomach clench in a weirdly pleasant way. Once Rory seemed to be finished emptying his balls, Wes licked his cock clean with relish, giving a little hum as he slid his tongue against the tip one last time. He sat up, feeling a flush creep up his neck and into his cheeks. It didn’t make any sense, but he needed to keep moving before the ingrained shame caught up to him. He crawled up closer to Rory to kiss him, arm sliding over his chest, erection pushing into his hip.
Rory shivered as Wes licked him clean, desire still coursing through him despite being completely spent. He looked up at Wes in the darkness, unable to see the color in his cheeks, and slid his arm around his waist as Wes moved up his body and kissed him. He could still taste a hint of himself on Wes’s tongue, something he’d always found to be a turn on, and he was happy just kissing for a moment as his body finally settled. The cock pressing into his hip was a reminder not to keep Wes waiting though and Rory’s hand slid down between them, wrapping around Wes’s length and giving it a slow stroke. “What d’ya want?” he whispered, a teasing smile against Wes’s lips as his thumb circled around the head. He didn’t really think he’d get an answer, but it never hurt to ask before he made the decision for him.
It was always surprising to Wes, how much better someone else’s hand felt on his cock. When life was normal he touched himself all the time, but being touched by someone else was so rare that the contrast was always a bit of a shock. Wes pushed wantonly into Rory’s grip, a soft groan escaping him. For a second he wasn’t sure of the answer to Rory’s question -- he wanted more of this, he wanted the other man’s mouth, he wanted to be buried deep inside his ass, all of it. It all felt so good and it was only getting better. Wes couldn’t ask for any of that, though, not out loud. That was just beyond him, even drunk. Instead he nipped at Rory’s bottom lip as he slid one hand up to delve fingers into his hair. Wes kissed him deeply one more time, then started pushing his head down -- not forcefully, but firmly enough to convey what he wanted. Rory’s mouth.
It was answer enough for Rory, who laughed quietly against Wes’s lips before sliding down in the bed. He shoved at Wes’s hips, urging him onto his back, and dropped a couple of kisses onto his chest and stomach before settling between Wes’s legs. While it was usually a bit one sided, Rory liked giving head. It was like drowning in another man’s sex, a sensory overload for his nose and his tongue. Even fresh out of the shower, Wes had his own scent and Rory buried his nose in it as he slid his tongue down the length of Wes’s cock. Then it was back up again, circling the tip before he took him in, lips stretching around him. Wes was big, wonderfully so, but it made it hard to swallow all of him at once, so Rory made up for it with his hand, hoping to take in more next time, or the next.
There was nothing like that exclusive attention, and Wes was more than happy to slip into that mindless space of soaking it up. He’d rolled onto his back when Rory pushed him, and it didn’t take more than a few seconds for both hands to find and delve into the other man’s hair, stroking restlessly as his breathing got deeper and heavier. Wes closed his eyes, head falling back against the mattress, and did his best to forget everything except how Rory’s mouth felt around him. The beer definitely made that easier. He felt like every nerve in his cock was hyper-sensitive, and a deep tremor was already starting in his core. It felt like more than pleasure, but Wes wasn’t in any shape to really think about what else was making him shake.
With his mouth filled with Wes’s cock, Rory couldn’t think of anything but the man before him. Until now, all he’d had was teasers, glimpses of Wes shirtless or possibly in a towel. He’d wondered what it might be like to suck him off, but never actually thought it would happen. He wanted to make it last, wanted to make it the best head he’d ever given, though his lack of familiarity with Wes’s body made that hard to accomplish. Rory did his best to read Wes, allowing the hands in his hair to guide him, dropping just once to suck on his balls before starting back up on his cock again. It was getting easier to take all of him in and Rory swallowed around him with each bob of his head, enjoying the taste of Wes on his tongue.
Even if he hadn’t been so averse to talking in the middle of this, Wes couldn’t have really told him what to do anyway. He’d had so few blowjobs from men, even fewer that he’d been able to relax and actually enjoy, and Wes hadn’t lasted long through any of them. Embarrassing if you actually planned on speaking to someone ever again, instead of hastily hiking up your jeans and parting company. This was different though, this was a new situation for him. If he hadn’t been drunk, he might’ve come already ... he definitely would’ve been fretting about coming too soon instead of actually enjoying everything like he was now. Rory was good with his mouth, gradually taking more of Wes’s cock deeper and sucking just enough to keep him on edge. He started getting more vocal as Rory worked on him, moaning helplessly as his strong fingers flexed and released in Rory’s hair. Wes lifted his head briefly to look, and the shadowy scene made him groan even louder, his hips bucking up instinctively. Fuck, it all felt so good.
As the bed shifted just slightly, Rory glanced up, catching Wes looking down on him in the darkness. He held his gaze for as long as he could, wishing he could see him better, well aware of what that kind of imagery did to him and betting that Wes felt the same. When Wes’s hips bucked, Rory moved with them, then began to move faster, finally working Wes’s cock with intent. He liked the way Wes’s fingers pulled at his hair and imagined how good that would feel if Wes was filling him from behind. He groaned around Wes’s cock as he pictured it and his own cock gave a little twitch in response. Maybe not tonight, he was too tired and spent, but if they’d done this once he imagined they could do it again. There were probably other things to consider, but right now all he could think about was how good this all felt. The last few weeks had been miserable, but if he added Wes fucking him to the mix, then things were definitely looking up.
That deep groan vibrated through Wes’s cock and made him shudder a little. The idea that Rory was enjoying giving that much, even after he’d already gotten off, was fucking hot. Wes’s balls felt drawn up and tight, waves of pleasure rolling through him with every stroke of Rory’s mouth. He could feel his control quickly unraveling, and he lost track of how tightly he was holding onto the other man’s hair while he panted and twitched under him. Rory definitely knew what he was doing, which might have been intimidating in other circumstances. Currently it was just making him a quivering puddle of pleasure and dumb gratitude. Moaning with every heavy breath now, Wes’s grip clenched harder and he started thrusting up into Rory’s mouth, pushing deep into his throat without conscious thought, just chasing that ecstasy until it slammed into him and he let go. Wes shivered and groaned through his teeth as he pumped a few more times and emptied himself into Rory’s mouth.