#wentzross

"Pete, please," Ryan whimpered, his voice cracking.

"Shh, I got you," Pete murmured against his throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. He worked Ryan's jeans down his hips, revealing the pale, trembling thighs beneath. Ryan's cock was already hard, leaking pre-cum against his stomach.

Pete knelt between his legs, taking the length into his mouth without hesitation. Ryan's head fell back, a choked moan escaping his lips. Pete's tongue traced the underside, tasting salt and skin, while his hand cupped Ryan's balls, rolling them gently. He sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks, and Ryan's hips bucked, a desperate cry filling the room.

"Fuck, Pete, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet," Pete said, pulling off with a wet pop. He stood, unzipping his own jeans, his cock springing free, thick and hard. He spit into his palm, stroking himself once, twice, before lining up with Ryan's entrance.

Ryan's eyes were wide, pupils blown, his body trembling. "I've never..."

"I know. I'll be gentle." Pete pushed in slowly, inch by inch, watching Ryan's face contort with pain and pleasure. Ryan's nails dug into Pete's shoulders, leaving red crescents. Pete bottomed out, holding still, letting Ryan adjust.

"Move," Ryan whispered, voice ragged.

Pete did. He fucked into him with steady, deep thrusts, the sound of skin slapping filling the basement. Ryan's legs wrapped around Pete's waist, pulling him deeper. Pete leaned down, capturing Ryan's mouth in a sloppy kiss, tasting his own spit mixed with Ryan's.

"Gonna cum," Ryan gasped against his lips.

"Cum for me, baby." Pete's hand wrapped around Ryan's cock, stroking in time with his thrusts. Ryan's body tensed, a sharp cry tearing from his throat as he spilled over Pete's fingers, hot and thick. The clench of his ass sent Pete over the edge, his own release flooding deep inside Ryan.

They stayed tangled together for a long moment, breathing heavy. Pete pulled out slowly, watching his cum leak from Ryan's hole. He grabbed a towel from a nearby pile of laundry, wetting it with water from the utility sink.

"Lift up," Pete said softly. Ryan obeyed, letting Pete clean him, wiping the sweat and cum from his thighs, his stomach, his softening cock. The touch was surprisingly tender, methodical. Pete helped him pull his jeans back up, buttoning them for him.

"Your mom's gonna be wondering where you are," Pete said, kissing Ryan's forehead.

"Yeah," Ryan mumbled, cheeks flushed. He stood, legs shaky, and grabbed his jacket.