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Colt is gonna kill him.
Maybe this was a bad time to worry about it. Maybe, realistically, Ryland should’ve worried about this about two hours ago, when he was first faced with this temptation that would get Colt so upset. But Ryland has always been a little self-serving, and Colt has always been a little fun to piss off.
Maybe that’s why he agreed to go home with Colt’s borderline evil boss, Tom Ryder.
The night kept replaying in his head. Colt just so happened to be shooting in Cali for the next however long, just near San Jose, which happened to be close enough that Colt offered to hang out with Ryland on weekends. Which led to them crashing on each other’s couches. Which led to Ryland coming with Colt to bar-hop and go to a few parties. He’d originally intended to be the responsible one for them. Even if he couldn’t drive, he could still call cabs and keep Colt from doing stupid things. He tried to maintain his maturity during the parties and bars, he really did, but tonight was where he finally broke. Colt invited him into a group game of cornhole, where every time you missed the board, you had to take a shot.
Ryland actually wasn’t too bad at it. A lot of it was trial and error, but once he figured out the angles, he didn’t lose another game, no matter who he faced. Slightly buzzed from the mistakes he did make, Ryland got cocky, as all Icaruses must, and this is where he met Tom Ryder.
Colt was hyping his brother up for his achievements, and honestly, it felt so nice to be seen and praised that he didn’t stop it. Once Ryland was dubbed the “undefeated cornhole champion”, Tom took that as a personal challenge. A cocky grin was placed handsomely on his face, like it was the only expression that made sense, as he tossed a beanbag in the air to catch it over and over again. “We’ll see about that title.” He had warned, and Ryland wasn’t worried.
Colt had slung an arm around Ryland’s shoulder, shouting despite being less than a foot away from Ryland, and announcing that he had to beat this guy’s ass. That Tom Ryder, of all people, deserved to have his ego take a hit here. Ryland thought he could do it, and so he took the challenge. He probably could’ve won, had Tom not sabotaged him.
Whenever Ryland stepped back from his first toss, landing the bag perfectly in the center hole, Tom decided to lean into Ryland’s space while he prepared for his turn. One hand was tossing his bag in the air just a few inches above his hand to catch it, like juggling it, while the other slid into the back pocket of Ryland’s jeans. He was practically squeezing Ryland’s ass as he leaned in and murmured, “You are a good shot. Wonder what else you’re good at.”
Red exploded across Ryland’s face as his shoulders tensed and back tightened, but just as he looked over at Tom, the hand was out of his pocket, and Tom was tossing his bean bag. Ryland’s next shot went terribly, obviously. He was so flustered now, and he felt so stupid for it. The first shot was tallied, and then the second, and then by the fourth, Ryland knew he had to tap out, unless he wanted the hangover from down under tomorrow. Tom had not been any more merciful between attempts either. Each time, he’d play it up like he was just trying to figure out the next angle to work with, all while he found a way to play with Ryland’s mind. A hand to his waist to move him out of the way here, a double entendre disguised as praise there, and it all got in Ryland’s head.
Once the game was over, someone came over with a tray for Ryland containing four tequila shots, and Tom jumped in before Ryland could even reach for the first one. “Consider this my prize,” He’d explained, taking hold of Ryland’s chin and directing him to open his mouth as he held up the shot.
Of course, Ryland hesitated. This seemed a little intimate, given that they hadn't even been properly introduced, but he supposed that was just the nature of parties like this. And so many people were watching them. Thankfully, nobody had their cameras on them, but this seemed like an awfully big crowd for not doing much to earn it besides a game about tossing bean bags onto a board.
Tom was still watching him, quirking an expectant brow with a smug smile as he held up the shot, like trying to remind Ryland that he wasn’t getting out of this.
Alright. He can do a spectacle.
It was obvious nobody was expecting this of him. Ryland likes it that way. His hand came to rest on Tom’s wrist, the one holding his chin, and he used it like an anchor as he sank to his knees in front of Tom. The actor looked astonished, his breath almost audibly hitching as he watched Ryland go. And then Ryland let his jaw hang open, tongue barely poking past his lower lip. The smug smile on Tom’s face transformed to a starstruck grin, and it was obvious he was taking great pleasure in this.
Tom kept hold of Ryland’s chin, holding him still, as he carefully poured the first shot into Ryland’s mouth. “Swallow,” He’d directed in a slightly deeper tone than before, and it was clear from his volume alone that the change was more meant for Ryland than the crowd. The hand guided Ryland’s mouth to close, and he obeyed, swallowing the sour, frankly disgusting liquor down in a swift gulp.
An intrigued hum left Ryder now as he set the glass upside down on the tray, picking up the next one. He tugged Ryland’s lips apart again, his thumb intentionally perched just beneath his lower lip, as he held the shot close to his face like he was tempting him. “Aw, you listen so well. But now you’ve got me curious to test that obedience.”
Oh, lord. The mischievous look in Tom’s eye did not put Ryland’s nerves at ease, but he’d made his own bed, so it was his responsibility to lie in it. He nodded hesitantly, and Tom gave a smile, like it was supposed to be reassuring, but it just made Ryland’s stomach feel that much more like a pit, and made his cheeks feel like a sauna. The shot hit his tongue all at once again, and Ryland closed his mouth without direction this time.
He was about to swallow when Tom squeezed his chin and said, “Hold it.”
Seriously? Seriously?! Ryland tried not to make a face, he really did, but as the liquor burned away at his taste buds, his eyes squeezed closed, his nose scrunched up, and his lips turned into a sour line. Tom seemed more and more amused by each passing second that Ryland obeyed when, finally, he granted mercy. “Swallow.” Ryland didn’t even hesitate, gulping it down like he was seconds from drowning in it otherwise.
Afterwards came the coughing. Ryland had to tilt away from Tom’s hand to cover his mouth so he could try to clear the terrible taste from his tongue, his face still soured. Tom was still delighted with this, laughter escaping from him as he petted through Ryland’s hair. “Aw, you’re like a little puppy. So eager to please, huh?”
“Ryder!” Another voice barked from across the room, and Ryland immediately placed it as belonging to his twin, even for as hard as it was to hear over the pounding bass of the music encompassing the party. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
Ryland couldn’t even get a word in before Colt was between them, shoving Tom away, who barely even moved from the force. Ryland quickly grabbed hold of his twin’s arm to get him to back off. “Colt, I’m fine,” He brought himself back up to his feet with Colt’s aid. The stuntman did not seem satisfied with this answer, glaring daggers back at Tom, who didn’t even react, just wearing that same smug smile from earlier. “In case you forgot, I am a fully grown adult, and I don’t need you to protect me.”
That didn’t land well because the fiery glare was now pointed at Ryland, like he was insane for even suggesting such a thing. “Are you fuckin’ serious, Ry? You’re choosing to play that card now? With him?!” He looked totally bewildered, and Ryland shrugged innocently.
De-escalating that fight didn’t go very well, and it was clear that he was not going to be able to take the last two shots from Tom like that, so Ryland just took the last two from the tray and tossed them back before going to get lost somewhere else in the party. Anywhere that wasn’t around Colt. Getting nagged out for letting Colt’s supposedly evil coworker feed him shots was not his idea of fun, and it wasn’t like he was going home with him.
Except he was.
Tom found him again, maybe ten minutes later, and he had a lot to say about their little scene. Maybe it was the booze that was making him feel like this, or maybe he just needed to feed that little rebellious streak that he hadn’t acknowledged since his early college years. Maybe he just needed to prove that he still could. But whatever the source, Ryland was easily convinced.
He shot a quick text to Colt, explaining he was heading out and he’d see Colt tomorrow. And with that, he was in Tom’s car, and they were driving back to the actor’s hotel, and they weren’t going to be interrupted again. And Ryland knew, in theory, that this was irresponsible. This was spontaneous, and selfish, and stupid. And Ryland also knew, as Tom’s hand settled on his inner knee, that he didn’t really mind right now. That could be a problem to panic about for future Ryland.
“You seem tense.” Tom finally commented at a stoplight, and Ryland realized how accurate that was as he felt his shoulders finally droop. “Are you okay, baby?” He asked, his other elbow settling on the open window of his door as he leaned his head into his hand, though he notably did not remove the other one from Ryland’s knee.
“Yeah.” Ryland nodded, bringing the back of his knuckles to dust up and down Tom’s arm. “Yeah, I really am. How far are we?”
“Mm, five minutes, ten tops?” Tom answered as the light finally changed, and he picked up the pace of the car, his hand settling on the wheel again.
Ryland didn’t have an excuse for his actions here, like a crowd, or pissing his brother off, or anything, really. The closest he might get to an excuse is the buzz of alcohol still coursing through his veins. But maybe he didn’t need to justify what he did. Maybe it didn’t matter if he did what he wanted, even if just for tonight. Ryland clicked his seatbelt off, turning in his seat and curving across the center console. He’d guided Tom’s hand up a little higher to his thigh, as he leaned his chest against his bicep — which, nice — and smirked up at Tom. “And would you be willing to bet you can get there faster?”
That was apparently a nice move, mostly, save for the fact that Ryland had to fix the wheel when Tom got so distracted staring at him that he didn’t realize the car was drifting lanes. Tom noticed when Ryland had to reach across, and he snapped his gaze forward again, clearing his throat and nodding. “Yes— Yeah, I uh, I probably can.” Tom gave an airy scoff, his hand voluntarily wandering to Ryland’s crotch line in his jeans.
“Then let’s bet.” He was not a gambling man. But he was also not a man for one-night stands, or parties, or drinking games (or at least, he hadn’t been since college). So tonight was already pretty out of the norm. What’s one more vice? “What do you want if you win?”
Tom’s blue eyes had immense trouble staying on the road now. His hand drifted up past Ryland’s hip to come cup his chin again, thumbing at his lower lip. “I want you back on your knees like you were at the party, and I want free rein to fuck your face however I might.” Oh. Wow. He had a dirty mouth. Ryland probably shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s not like he does this on the regular to get desensitized to that kind of language. “And if you win?”
A quiet scoff escaped the doctor as he kissed Tom’s thumb. “I don’t want to win.” He admitted, “I just want you to drive faster.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have challenged Tom on that, considering they were in a sports car, and considering how eager Tom seemed with this profession, but Tom did not waste even another second after that. Ryland even caught a glance at the speedometer; Tom was pushing 90 on a service street, zipping past cars with such precision that Ryland couldn’t help but wonder where one might even get that kind of experience. Maybe for work, but he’d imagine that would’ve been Colt’s job.
Well, what’s done is done, and Ryland was right to bet that they could get there faster. They’d swung into the hotel parking lot within 3 minutes. Ryland tried not to pay any mind to how dizzy he was, but once Tom opened the door for him and helped him out, he stumbled a little into Tom’s arms. “Steady, sweetheart,” Tom laughed as he helped Ryland right himself. Ugh, he doesn’t remember being this much of a lightweight in college. That’s what happens when you go years without drinking, though.
They made it up to the hotel room pretty easily, once Ryland found his footing again, and as soon as they were in the door, Tom was on him. Ryland didn’t even have the chance to close the door. Tom walked him back into it as he cupped either side of Ryland’s face, lips colliding, and Ryland could taste the faint booze on his breath. He was sure his own must not be any more pleasant, but apparently, they were skipping right past freshening up.
Ryland couldn’t help a quiet sound from escaping him as Tom licked his lip, one of his hands drifting down to grab him by the hip and pull him flush against the actor. Ryland tried to lean into the kiss to walk Tom into the room, but Tom did not seem interested, his hands sliding down to Ryland’s knees to lift him up and push him back into the door, guiding his legs around Tom’s waist, and moving his hips in a slow and deliberate grind.
This probably would’ve been more comfortable if Ryland weren’t wearing jeans. A small wince left him when the jeans pressed uncomfortably along his V-line, and Tom finally seemed to get the message that they weren’t the best pants to be rubbing through like this. Tom groaned quietly, but all the same, he kept his arms around Ryland as he walked back into the hotel room. They stopped just shy of a mattress, and Tom set him back down on his feet, quickly grabbing one of the pillows to set it down in front of Ryland. “Now, I believe I was promised a prize?” Tom recounted back to him, which had Ryland snickering in amusement as he obliged and knelt down on the pillow. That was a pretty considerate detail.
The doctor’s hands came up to Tom’s waistband, working down the buttons. Tom swung his shirt off with ease, and Ryland couldn’t help but dip forward to kiss over his V-line and happy trail. Before too long, Tom’s pants were undone, his belt and boxers discarded with them, and he was now nude in front of Ryland, totally unashamed. In fact, if anything, Tom looked invigorated by the way Ryland was staring up at him. Tom’s blue eyes were blown and wild and totally starstruck as he stared back at Ryland. “Fuck,” Tom panted quietly, his hand coming to cup Ryland’s chin and thumbing over his lower lip. “You’re so fuckin’ cute like this, sweetheart.”
A quiet hum of delight escaped Ryland as he settled into position, his jaw agape, tongue hanging out, and who was Tom to not oblige? Tom picked up the base of his cock, dragging the tip against Ryland’s tongue, before rocking just past his lips to drape his cock across Ryland’s cheek. Like some kind of animal marking its territory, or maybe like he was relishing an award. Tom admired the view for a moment, a smug smile on his face, before he redirected his cock back into Ryland’s mouth and slowly slid the length of it in. Ryland did well, at first, accepting most of the length with fair ease, but as the inches just kept coming, Ryland found his throat challenged in making enough space.
He was about to draw back before he could gag, when Tom grabbed a fistful of his hair and shoved the last of his length in to get fully deepthroated. Ryland had to squeeze at his hips to ground himself while Tom drew back all the way, letting Ryland cough as needed. Ryland only took a few seconds to catch his breath before he reinvigorated the challenge again and took the lead in gulping down Tom’s cock. This earned a heavy moan, and Tom tipped his head back, his hand sliding through Ryland’s hair with a lot more gentleness than before.
The doctor moved slowly and steadily now, like trying to get used to the girth encompassing his entire mouth. He readjusted his knees on the pillow and glanced up at Tom to gauge his reaction. Tom was already staring back, and the eye contact made his lips turn up into a little grin. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” Tom complimented as he fixed Ryland’s glasses back up from his nose and onto his face. “Especially like this, looking up at me while you take my cock so easily. So good.”
Ryland could not respond on account of the dick in his mouth, but even if he could, he doesn’t know that he would be able to find the words. His face was hot now, suddenly acutely aware of how much he was being watched — and appreciated. God, that really did feel nice. He would be lying if he said that wasn’t making him a little hotter all over. Ryland was not chasing praise when he slid as far down Tom’s cock as he feasibly could without just swallowing the dang thing, he promised he wasn’t, but if Tom just so happened to praise him for his efforts, then that was just an excellent bonus.
And praise he did. Tom already seemed like the kind of guy to talk someone through it; he was just proving it as he tried to speak through his sultry moans. “Mmh, look at you go… fuck, you’re being so good for me, sweetheart. I don’t even have to— Ah, to move… You’re doing it so good for me.”
Okay, maybe Ryland was chasing that praise. But could you blame him? The way the words rolled off his tongue felt like honey dripping into Ryland’s mouth. Tom knew how to play with his voice just right to get it sounding so perfect, too; Just a little breathy, a half octave deeper than usual, with just enough rasp to the edge that Ryland was sure he would be haunted by that voice in the months to come. But while he had it for tonight, he intended to savor it fully. Ryland’s tongue moved experimentally; he’d never actually given a blowjob before, but he’d received one, and he remembered what made him feel the best, so he was curious to see if those same preferences worked for Tom, too. His tongue flattened along the underside of Tom’s cock, cheeks hollowed, as he slowly guided back to the head. His tongue explored across the ridges of Tom’s tip, then down the slit, and he was savoring every little gasp and moan he’d earned from toying with Tom.
The hand in his hair tightened now, like Tom was having to hold himself back. His chest was heaving a little heavier than before. Ryland could tell when Tom liked something most, not by the way his head tipped back, but by the sounds he made. A little, sharp gasp suggested that he wasn’t as much of a fan, but the shallow gasps that quickly turned into sweet moans proved right away that he loved whatever Ryland had done to earn it. And he did it all, he tested everything he could with his limit, and even tried to push past that limit, too.
Somewhere along the lines, something flashed in Tom’s eyes, like a wild sense of freedom. Shortly after, his hands had gathered in Ryland’s hair, hips jutting forward as he held Ryland steady and quickly started fucking into his mouth. The movements were so swift that every time he was about to trigger Ryland’s gag reflex, he would be gone too fast for it to fully hit off.
Ryland doesn’t know when he started moaning. The sounds were so hollow and broken up that he could barely hear himself. But he kept up with Tom. Flattened his tongue, swallowed around him when he could, kept his cheeks as hollow as possible; He did everything he could to keep up with Tom. It wasn’t much longer before the actor quickly drew his hips back, grasping at the base of his cock fiercely as he hunched over and gave a broken cry. Thick beads of precum pooled at the tip of his cock, and he was using Ryland’s shoulders to keep himself upright, panting heavily.
Did he just… ruin his own orgasm?
Ryland’s face was bright and hot by now, glancing up at Tom to see how debauched he looked — he was so sweaty, his eyes were glistening over with tears, his cheeks were shiny with the few that fell, and he was panting so heavily. And despite it all, he was still smiling, like this was the most fun he’d had in forever. Ryland supposed he probably didn’t look any better. He was panting too, his chin was coated in drool by now, and he was still half expecting Tom to come back and finish himself off in Ryland’s mouth, so it was still hanging open like an invitation.
Tom’s smile grew a bit bigger as he crouched down in front of Ryland, taking hold of his chin to kiss him again. This time was slower, more deliberate with every move, as he cupped the side of Ryland’s face and let his tongue explore his open mouth. Ryland vaguely wondered if Tom could taste himself on his tongue. They stayed like that for a minute, with Ryland’s arms draping around Tom’s waist, and Tom holding him steady with a hand to the back of his neck.
Once they finally parted, a small rivulet of spit connected them until Tom stood up again and separated it. “You’re way different from what I imagined.” Tom said, and Ryland couldn’t tell if that was a compliment — judging by the rest of his dialogue tonight, he had to imagine it was. Tom took hold of Ryland’s hands that had drifted to his hips, pulling him up to his feet.
“Is— Is that a good thing?” Ryland asked as he swiped a long-sleeve-covered hand across his chin to clear off the fluids.
“Very much so.” The actor confirmed as his hands came to settle on Ryland’s waist, walking him back against the bed until Ryland’s knees gave out when he had nowhere else to go but onto the mattress. “I had a few ideas, since you are still Colt’s twin, but you’re so… different.” Tom’s lips started at Ryland’s neck now, still making space for him to talk, but kissing down like he was marking a treasure trail. “The whole nerdy vibe made me think you’d be, like, the kind of pathetic of a virgin. But then you did that thing at the party, and I just knew I wanted to see how you actually act when you get fucked stupid.”
The entire time Tom was talking, he was working down the buttons on Ryland’s shirt, drawing the fabric off to the side the second the buttons were cleared. He sucked in a shallow breath as Tom started kissing down his chest, watching Ryland as he went. “You still…” Ryland barely managed to pant, “You still have to do the actual ‘screwing me stupid’ part, you know.”
An amused chuckle escaped Tom as he started undoing Ryland’s belt. “Believe me, I intend to.” He murmured, teeth grazing against the skin of Ryland’s lower chest, just near the end of his ribcage. Ryland couldn’t help but stare at Tom as his kisses started trailing back up, and only when he tilted his head back to give his lover space to start sucking at his neck did he finally break eye contact. He didn’t even realize when his pants were fully discarded. It wasn’t until his boxers went next that the snap of cold air hitting his throbbing dick made Ryland come back to reality enough to notice that he was almost entirely nude. Save for the shirt that was still hanging on at his shoulders, but otherwise unbuttoned and out of the way.
“Fuck, look at you.” Tom practically purred as he drew back enough to look over Ryland. His eyes studied Ryland like he was appreciating art from the Renaissance era, and Ryland couldn’t help but feel a little exposed, one of his knees coming up to try to use his thigh to cover himself. Tom wasn’t having any of that, quick to push his knee to the side and further exposing him. “You’re too pretty to cover up, sweetheart. C’mon. Spread out for me.”
The rebellious streak in him itched, and Ryland almost gave into it, but the way Tom was practically worshipping him, his gaze trailing all over Ryland so reverently, he decided he couldn’t do that to him. Ryland sucked in a steadying breath and obliged, his knees parting as far as he comfortably could. This was so mortifying. He knew he didn’t really have reason to be so embarrassed, that Tom was just as vulnerable here as Ryland was, but that didn’t help his heart slow its fervent beat.
“Good boy.” Tom praised, and Ryland felt his heart skip a beat, his face turning a deep crimson as he actually whined. Ryland has never made a sound like that in his life. The sound caught Tom’s attention right away, and the smug grin on his face was back in full, if not brighter than before. “Oh?” Tom couldn’t help but laugh, cupping Ryland’s chin and leaning in just close enough that every word he spoke had their lips grazing. “You like that, huh? You wanna be a good boy for me?”
God, how does anyone even stand this kind of attention? The heat flowing to his face was already bad enough, but it didn’t even stop at his face. His heart was racing so badly that anyone listening to it might think he was running a darn marathon. Tom could probably feel how the teasing had gone straight to Ryland’s cock from how it jumped up and knocked against Tom’s stomach.
Another amused giggle left the actor over him as his free hand drifted down to take hold of Ryland’s dick, slowly teasing at the slit with his thumb as he nuzzled his nose against Ryland’s. “Come on, pretty boy, speak up for me.”
How does Tom do it? Talk through this? Ryland couldn’t even clear his head enough to try to form a response, and Tom was talking to him with total clarity. Ryland tried, he really did, to say something. A simple ‘yes’ would do, but even that felt far too strenuous. All he could manage was a pathetic, breathy moan shaped like an “Mhm”, nodding against Tom’s lips to say what he couldn’t.
Tom noticed. Of course, he noticed. But he didn’t say anything yet, just smiling brighter as he finally closed the gap to kiss him fervently. He didn’t grant Ryland any mercy, despite his answer, his hand moving slowly and steadily, deliberately taunting Ryland’s length and even guiding his hips close enough to grind their cocks together.
He knew what he was doing. God, he had to know. Ryland’s knees knocked against Tom’s waist as they threatened to squeeze closed, his hips jerking up involuntarily and trying to find any amount of friction that would actually satisfy. The hand that was at his chin came down to Ryland’s hips, pinning him down, and Tom actually had the nerve to chuckle against the kiss.
“What, do you want something from me?” Tom asked against Ryland’s jaw after separating the kiss, starting to nibble at his neck again. “You’re gonna have to speak up.”
Ryland may actually kill this jerk if he keeps up with this kind of teasing. Ryland gave a frustrated groan, his head tipping back against the mattress as far as he could, his Adam’s apple stretching out against his throat. “Please,” Ryland finally managed to gasp despite how his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. “Need you.”
A praising kiss landed on Ryland’s chin, and Tom finally spared him, his hand moving at a proper pace to try and grant him some relief. “Good boy.” Tom purred, “Stay.”
He could almost cry when Tom’s hand left him again. Ryland watched Tom go as he reached for the end table where a bottle of lube was already on display, like it wasn’t the first time Tom had to grab it in a hurry, so he had just given up on hiding it in the drawer. He was back before Ryland knew it, pouring a splash into his fingers and massaging it between his hands to try to warm the lube up.
Tom must’ve recognized how the anticipation and nerves were building up in Ryland, because he leaned down to connect their lips in probably the sweetest manner he had all night. His hand carefully glided down to Ryland’s entrance, smoothing around to feel it out before carefully sliding a finger in.
The kiss worked wonderfully for distracting him. Once his finger was in, most of Ryland’s discomforted and tense groans melted right into Tom’s mouth. His hand was gliding up and down Ryland’s stomach and chest, like trying to massage the tension out of him, but he didn’t dare break the kiss. He just waited so patiently for Ryland to adjust, nibbling his lip, flicking his thumb over Ryland’s nipple, and drawing gentle, playful scratches along his ribs.
Once he finally became accustomed to the tension, he carefully squirmed his hips experimentally. Tom didn’t need clarification this time, his finger moving so gently inside of Ryland. God, he’d never done it this way before. Nobody ever talks about how it feels — well, maybe they do, and Ryland just doesn’t seek it out. But it feels so… strange. He feels so full, and simultaneously, so empty every time Tom draws back to start pumping his finger.
The second Tom drew back from the kiss, all of Ryland’s sounds fled freely into the open air. He felt nothing short of pitiful as he heard his own voice melt into a string of whimpers and groans, discomforted and delighted at the same time. Ryland felt his back barely curving off the mattress, and Tom’s hand sank under that curve, tracing the dip in his spine all the way down to provoke a shudder from him. Somehow, that actually felt like it helped adjust better. He was almost comfortable with the sensation when Tom slid a second finger in, and before terribly long, a third.
Tom seemed to recognize how much harder that was to get accustomed to, so he exercised his patience again. His lips drew against Ryland’s ear, kissing the faint scruff of his 5 o’clock shadow, and murmuring sweet nothings. “You’re doing so good,” And “I’ve got you, baby, it’s okay,” and “Breathe, Ryry, I’ll take care of you. Just relax.”
Hang on. Ryry? Did they ever share names? Of course, Ryland knew who Tom was. Even if he didn’t recognize Tom’s face from almost every modern action movie ever, Colt had still shouted about Tom Ryder’s incredible ego that needed a bruising at the party, so that was enough introduction for Ryland to know Tom’s name. But he never said his own name, did he? “My— How do you…?” Ryland sounded startled, and Tom drew back just to confirm for himself that he looked the same, and Tom had to take a second to connect the dots.
“Your what? Oh— Your name?” Tom snickered, drawing the back of his hand along the curve of Ryland’s chest, from his sternum all the way down his abs. “That’s what Colt called you at the party. Well, mostly what he called you. Is that… not right?”
This is just further proof of how messed up this is, isn’t it? Tom is three fingers deep inside of Ryland, and he still doesn’t even know his first name. Ryland’s face turned a deep shade of red as he shook his head, promptly dropping it against Tom’s shoulder. “Ryland. M’name is Ryland.”
“Ryland.” The name rolled off Tom’s tongue like syrup. He’s gonna be fighting for his life just to avoid getting addicted to how he says it. “That’s such a pretty name.” Tom praised, lips pressing to the side of Ryland’s head as his hand slid up to cup his jaw. He tilted the doctor’s head up to make him look at him, thumb drawing over his lips. “I like it.” And with that, their lips connected again, this time by Ryland’s choice.
Apparently, Tom had almost forgotten about being buried knuckle-deep inside of Ryland, because it took another impatient squirm from the doctor to get his fingers moving again. That felt much easier to manage now. The sweet feeling when Tom’s fingers curled into him just right was starting to earn the moans from Ryland again, even if they were just melting right back into Tom’s mouth.
Ryland wanted him so bad. He could tell Tom did, too, from the way Tom’s hips were squirming. Ryland could feel him trying to stay still, but every now and then, he seemed to ache so hard that he couldn’t help but rock his hips against the mattress, even barely grazing against Ryland’s thigh when he did.
Finally, Tom withdrew his digits, and Ryland felt the cold emptiness hit him with such finality that he couldn’t help but groan in despair again. Tom chuckled against his lips before drawing back, as if there was anything to find amusing about his misery. Another quiet pop sounded out, and Ryland glanced down in time to see Tom stroking more of the lube across his cock. His lips dusted against Ryland’s collarbone as he aligned himself, and Ryland felt his heart skip when the head of Tom’s cock tempted at his entrance. “Ready?”
His hands came to Tom’s shoulders now, squeezing at the breadth to keep himself grounded. Another quiet “Mhm” of confirmation was all Ryland managed at first, but when Tom glared up at him with an intensity that said he wasn’t taking that for an answer, Ryland quickly forced out a tiny, “Yes.” And that was enough.
Tom pressed in so delicately, like he was afraid that if he moved too fast, he’d shatter Ryland. He appreciated that, in theory, but the slowness made it feel like a bandaid that was being ripped off far too slow for his liking. Ryland’s legs latched around Tom’s hips as he groaned, squeezing to try and push him in faster, and though he doubted he was strong enough to actually manhandle Tom, it was still enough to get him to push all the way in to hilt.
“Fuck,” Tom gasped once he finally slid to a stop, burying his face into Ryland’s collarbone. “You feel incredible,” He praised as his hands came to rub at Ryland’s hips and thighs soothingly. The doctor couldn’t respond beyond another pitiful whine that made him cover his face, pushing his glasses on top of his head. Tom tried to laugh, but it melted into another sultry moan as he squeezed at Ryland’s hips and readjusted on his knees. “Don’t be so shy, baby,” Tom nudged at Ryland’s hands, but when he made no move to drop them, Tom decided to pick both wrists up and loosely pin them overhead. “I wanna see your face.”
This actually got Ryland to whimper, but testing at his wrists, he noticed the grip wasn’t actually all that tight. Like Tom was trying more to make a point by pinning them than to actually trap him in place. Ryland sucked in a breath to steady himself again, letting his arms settle back against the mattress under Tom’s grip and glancing down at their shared space. His hips squirmed, and Tom moaned in response, taking this as a sign to slowly draw his hips back and glide them forward with such a smooth motion that Ryland couldn’t hold back a loud moan.
Pride infected every inch of Tom’s grin as he released hold of Ryland’s wrists with a small squeeze to warn him to stay. His hand trailed down from Ryland’s shoulder to the center of his stomach, where he just about anchored himself so his every hip motion could be just as fluent as the first, if not more. It hit Ryland the hardest when Tom adjusted his position again, tugging Ryland’s hips up a little higher. When he slid in again after that, it felt like an explosion of nerves buzzing with delight in Ryland’s stomach, and he couldn’t help the lewd cry that left him.
“That’s it, baby.” Tom purred, trying to keep his voice level through his own vulgar moans as his hand wandered over Ryland’s stomach, trying to feel for something. It didn’t seem to take too long, cause once he found it, a cocky grin appeared on his face. “Give me your hand.” Ryland didn’t even think about it, offering one of his hands up for Tom to take it and press it right over where he had been feeling a moment ago.
As Tom’s hips drew back and snapped in again, Ryland felt it. His face warmed incredulously as he felt the bulge rise and fall in tandem with Tom’s cock driving into him. He could feel it in his stomach. Holy hell, he’s big enough that Ryland can feel it bulge in his stomach.
Ryland’s head dropped back, and he felt the world practically fade away as he kept feeling for that bulge, relishing the way that Tom’s hips rocked into him with such power that it made the bed squeal with each hefty thrust. He couldn’t keep his hands still anymore, grabbing hold of Tom’s biceps and squeezing faintly like it would do anything to ground himself. Whether it was a voluntary reaction or not, Ryland could feel how his biceps flexed under the squeeze, and it had no business being as attractive as it was.
The slow pace of Tom’s hips was starting to pick up now, and Ryland could feel the way his cock expertly dragged across every sensitive spot Tom could find, even with how much faster he was. It was all about to drive him crazy. It felt like a blanket of heat was lying over Ryland’s entire body, and it was only getting hotter as they kept going. All the sounds Ryland awarded sounded so lewd, but he couldn’t help himself; the sweet moans and shameful whines were literally being fucked right out of him, and he could hardly catch his breath, much less clear his mind. “Mmh, listen to you…” Tom teased, his hips slowing oddly out of pace to just exaggerate how smooth his motions were, before picking right back up with his same pace from before. “You sound like a porn star… mm, just for me, huh?”
Ryland almost covered his face again, but the earlier reaction had come back to his mind, and he decided against it mostly for Tom’s sake than his own. His eyes were trained on their shared sex. One of his arms came down to steady himself on his elbow so that he could try to follow with the flow of their movements, to fuck himself back on Tom’s cock. It worked fine until Tom pushed him back down, hands coming to Ryland’s waist to anchor himself so that he could pick up the pace and add in a little strength for good measure. He was quite literally pushing him back into being a pillow princess.
Another whimper left Ryland as he tried to buck his hips without much traction to fall back on, and Tom groaned against his neck, teeth latching onto Ryland’s shoulder to leave a notable mark behind. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” Tom murmured against his skin as he parted from the mark, kissing it in apology for how it would bruise up later. “Keep making those pretty sounds for me, and I’ll handle the rest, mhm?”
This still wasn’t exactly satisfying enough for Ryland, his hips squirming unsteadily as he arched up into Tom and moaned in frustration. “Aw, you want control that badly?” Tom asked, and Ryland did not like the sound of the taunting edge to those words. The arms at Ryland’s hips slid under and picked him up, pulling him along as Tom came to sit back on the mattress. “Go on then. Fuck yourself on me, show me how that control feels for you.”
And that felt like a direct challenge. Ryland was not in the mood to back down from a challenge. He could’ve done without the mortifying way it was presented, but he’d manage. Ryland tried to catch his breath for a second, looking back at Tom with a quiet, agitated huff. The actor only reacted with a mocking smile. Ryland settled his hands on Tom’s shoulders as he adjusted on his knees, and before long, he was picking himself up, slow and steady, before dropping back down to fill himself to sheath with Tom’s cock.
Maybe he was going slower than Tom’s pace, maybe he was a little less smooth — okay, a lot less smooth, but feeling himself so full every single time he sank down was so satisfying in its own right, and the way Tom’s voice came out in mirroring moans suggested that he felt largely the same. But Tom was making a deliberate point not to aid him, his hands leaning back on the mattress solely to steady himself so he could watch Ryland and nothing else.
Ryland couldn’t help but groan in frustration as he tried to find a way to balance so that he could lift his hips faster, but everything just felt like it fell flat. He would be damned if he was gonna ask for help, but it didn’t seem like he needed to, as Tom recognized his frustration not too long after and started guiding his hips up and down to meet Ryland’s pace. “So, pretty boy, is this working out for you?” Tom teased, his hands coming around to squeeze Ryland’s ass as he guided the doctor’s movements up and down. “You wanna tap out and let me fuck you stupid like I promised?”
Absolutely. But doing so meant admitting defeat, and Ryland was too competitive to accept that. So he didn’t respond, burying his face into Tom’s shoulder and readjusting on his knees to fuck himself back on him as fast as he could. It didn’t take long for Tom to let out a quiet moan that turned into what almost sounded like a growl, his arms hooking under Ryland’s knees to pick him up and drop him face down onto the mattress. He guided Ryland’s hips up so he was back on his knees, and his hand slid down the curve in Ryland’s spine to coach the arch into it. Once he was satisfied, Tom was back inside of him, his hips rutting forward mercilessly as he leaned across Ryland’s back to bury an apologetic kiss into his shoulder.
As much as Ryland would like to complain that he was cut off from the challenge before he gave the say-so, it was hard to be mad with a cock drilling against your prostate with such expertise that Ryland’s voice didn’t go unused for even a second. Lewd moans and cries were building up more easily now as he felt his cock throb with need, or maybe warning. He almost forgot how to tell the difference.
Tom’s hands were starting to wander again. One found purchase over Ryland’s ass, squeezing, massaging, making him feel like a batch of dough that Tom was kneading mercilessly. The other slid along Ryland’s chest, gliding over his throat and feeling over his Adam’s apple, and finally nudging Ryland’s chin up before exploring all the way back down to take hold of his abandoned cock. It was so sensitive to the touch that the very moment Tom’s hand wrapped around, Ryland couldn’t help but cry out. It felt like a burning sensation that was finally being soothed, even if in a subtle way, it was still enough.
Pride swelled in Tom’s chest again as he kissed across Ryland’s upper spine, his hand pumping steadily, as the other came up to anchor at Ryland’s waist. He used that to pull Ryland back into every thrust, making the power hit him that much harder. Oh god, Ryland can’t take it much longer. He tried to hold back as long as he could, he really did, but before he knew it, his hips were jittering, and he was shaking with the power of his orgasm as it totally washed over him. The only word he could manage to make out at the end was a pathetic, loud whine in the form of Tom’s name.
When he finally came back to reality again, Ryland could feel that Tom was still moving. Slower than before, but it was still enough to threaten to overstimulate him. The hand had left his cock by now, and taking a glance back at Tom, he could see him licking off the white beads of cum that had pooled down his knuckles. Ryland’s cock pulsed uselessly just above the mattress, totally spent for all he had to give, but still trying to respect how sexy Tom looked doing that. Tom didn’t take long to savor it all, settling his hands on either side of the mattress as he started slamming back into Ryland again.
The power of his cock drilling into his prostate again, fresh after an orgasm, was starting to create a dull ache in Ryland’s stomach, and he couldn’t help but cry out, bundling the sheets into his fists. “Breathe, baby, it’s— Mmh, it’s alright. I’m almost there.” Tom murmured against his skin in reassurance, and the strain in keeping his voice steady was audible. Ryland tried to obey, sucking in deep breaths, but every time he let them out, they always melted into those same pathetic whimpers and moans as before.
His eyes were starting to pool with tears as his hand came to grab hold of Tom’s, finding his fingers to interlock with them. Another kiss hit his back as Ryland whimpered out Tom’s name, and that seemed to be the final nail in the coffin. Tom’s hips started skipping as he jerked back to pull out, moaning Ryland’s name with such a beautiful tone that Ryland almost wondered if it might be enough to revive his sex drive again.
And then Tom dropped onto the bed, dragging Ryland down with him. Tom’s arms wrapped around Ryland’s middle as he guided the doctor onto his back, chin settling on his shoulder. “Are you… Are you okay?” Tom panted, out of breath, bringing a hand up to scoop some of the tears off of Ryland’s cheeks.
“Mhm,” Ryland managed to hum. “I really am.”
And yeah, Colt is definitely gonna kill him when he finds out. But as Ryland buried his face into Tom’s hand, he decided that was still a problem for future Ryland.