[Hurricane jolts again, as the soft touches against his nipple become a pinch; his hips cant forward again, before he can get them under control]

Y-yeah. I like seeing you feel good. Like it when you - when you just go for it, even if I c-can't. Maybe, like - especially if I can't.

[His cheeks are a dark, dark red; by the look on his face, he didn't intend to say that - perhaps didn't know what was going to come out at all until it did]

[When Rye shifts his hand to make a too-loose hold, his hips start twitching forward into the strokes, though by the way he ducks his head and turns away from the crowd, he's mortified at the lapse - fights himself to stillness after a long beat or two, shuddering. Every new brush of Rye's thumb at the bottom of the head draws a tremble from him, on the upstroke]

J-jesus. I want that. I want you to - to really rail me. I want you in me like yesterday, I want you to go - hard, like, hard as you can, I wanna not be able to walk tomorrow, I -

[With a whine and a deeper flush of humiliation, Hurricane presses forward for a kiss to shut himself up]