Andy let out a shuddering groan and thrust hard into Scooter’s grip, babbling and swearing and pleading for more. Another handful of strokes and Andy was trembling with the effort of holding it back. “Oh God, fuck, I don’t…I can’t…Scooter, baby, I’m gonna—”
“Yeah, that’s good, baby,” Scooter said, soothing, his voice breaking. “I…yeah, come on, I need it…need you to…”
Andy let out a noise like a sob and thrust into Scooter’s hand, and again, and then cried out as he came, body shaking in Scooter’s arms, hands gripping hard enough to bruise.
Andy’s cries made him ache, twisting their way up his spine. He snarled with it, mouth coming down tight on Andy’s shoulder, teeth scraping along the collarbone. “Yes, yes,” he chanted. “Give it to me, I need…” The rhythm of it took him, shook him, until there was nothing left and he arched and screamed and shuddered uncontrollably, shattering into a million little pieces.