[Hurricane turns as best he's able, to watch Rye examine them - the slick, round heads, and the suckers, and the way Rye sucks in a sharp breath, when he touches one of them. His own breath stutters; in his fist, neglected for the moment due to the unexpected surrpise of the sight, Hurricane's cock gives a long twitch, leaking a long strand of precome onto the comforter]

[And if his flush goes a little darker, remembering a couple of choice doujinshi - if he clenches down around Rye's cock - surely that's the pheromones at work, that incessant driving need that's insisting he might go crazy if something doesn't scratch the maddening itch inside him]

Jesus, yeah, do it - do it now. I need - need something in me, need you to fill me up. This ain't - this ain't enough.-

[He's not sure what he meant to say, but by the humiliation on his face, it definitely wasn't that]