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“You’re such a brat, you know that?”
Pete’s voice is rough, right up against Joe’s ear. He’s whispering even though the party just outside the bedroom door is so loud Joe doesn’t think there’s any chance of anyone hearing them. Pete has them pressed together against a wall, his hands keeping Joe’s wrists firmly pinned on either side of his head. His fingernails bite into Joe’s skin, just enough to make his head feel light.
Pete has his thigh pressed between Joe’s legs, applying pressure to his straining cock. It makes Joe want to move, wriggle under Pete’s hands, but he has nowhere to go. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
“You’re lucky I don’t do this out there, show everyone how much of a slut you are,” Pete says harshly. Joe whimpers, head tipping back in response. They’re in a hotel suite in some city he doesn’t remember the name of, partying with people from their label that he’s never met before. Even if Pete did have Joe pinned up like this out there, Joe doubts anyone would remember it, what with all the bottles of alcohol and lines of coke he’s seen throughout the night. But the thought makes his face grow hot and stomach flip in on itself, and Pete knows it.
“Do you get off on throwing yourself around for everyone to feel up? Do you need to be used that badly?” Pete’s words are cruel, building a boiling shame deep in Joe’s gut, but Joe doesn’t tell him to stop, never does.
“No,” he gasps out, shaking his head as Pete grinds his thigh up into his crotch again. Joe hadn’t even been flirting, really. Just testing the waters, seeing what he could get away with. Not much, apparently. Pete rolls his eyes.
“You sure? Because it definitely seems like it with the way you were all over half the party out there. I bet you’d just love it if they could see you like this, all desperate and pathetic. Bet you’d let them all line up and fuck you until you couldn’t walk.”
Joe shakes his head. “No, no. Don’t want that,” his voice is shot, whiny and pleading. Pete just laughs.
“Yeah, sure you don’t.” His hands suddenly leave Joe’s wrists, only to land on his hips and shove him harshly onto the mattress.
“Strip,” Pete commands, looking bored. If he didn’t know any better, Joe would believe him, but he can see the hunger in Pete’s eyes from across the bed. That, and his cock is rock-hard in his jeans, pressing against the zipper. Heat coils in Joe’s gut at the sight as he scrambles to yank his shirt over his head, followed by his jeans and boxers.
He lays there, naked, waiting for Pete to move. But all Pete does is stare, raking his eyes over Joe’s body looking wholly unimpressed. His eyes land on Joe’s dick, flashing with amusement, and Joe's stomach drops.
“You really think people are going to want you when that’s all you’re packing? What were you going to do with that little thing? Rub it against their hole? I bet your pinky would work better,” Pete laughs. Joe can feel warmth spread from his chest up, leaving his whole body flushed red and trembling from the embarrassment. He feels the urge to cover himself, but keeps his hands at his sides, letting Pete look on.
“That’s pretty bad, but maybe a whore like you can still be used for something. Flip over,” Pete orders, but Joe doesn’t even have time to react before Pete’s hands are forcing him onto his stomach and drawing his hips up into the air. Pete spreads him open, and Joe knows he’s staring at his hole, can feel his hot breath against his skin. It makes him pant against the sheets, skin prickling with the feeling of being watched.
Pete’s fingers come up to rub at his rim, dry and harsh against where he’s sensitive, and Joe hisses at the sensation. The fingers pull away and a sharp flash of pain explodes on his right cheek where Pete slaps him.
“Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate,” Pete mutters before his fingers come forward to Joe’s mouth, pressing in until Joe’s sucking on them. Pete draws them out with a satisfying pop before returning to where his other hand is still teasing Joe. He presses a finger in without pausing to let Joe adjust, and the resulting burn tears its way up his spine into his chest. A second finger follows too quickly, and he feels like he’s being split open.
“Damn, you’re tight for slut.” The praise is minimal, wrapped inside an insult, but it goes straight to Joe’s cock and he preens, pressing back against Pete’s fingers. A hand comes down hard again, this time on his left cheek. “Stop moving or I’ll fuck you dry like this.” It’s an empty threat, Joe knows. Pete would never hurt him like that, no matter how mean they play. But the thought of being fucked just like this, with no prep and treated like a bitch, is enough to make his cock jerk desperately against his stomach.
Pete’s hand pulls back and Joe hears rustling behind him before the sound of a cap being opened. Then, Pete’s fingers are sliding back into him, slick and hot. He worms a third finger in alongside the others and starts fingerfucking Joe in earnest, making him moan and whine against the bed sheets.
“Wow, all that for some fingers? That’s pretty desperate, even for you. I’m not sure you could even handle my cock.” Pete’s fingers are moving at a brutal pace now, pressing against his prostate and making him fall apart, but Joe is still coherent enough to lift his head up at that.
“No, I can take it, I promise, please,” he whines, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. For as even as his voice sounds, Pete looks wrecked, his hair pushed up and eyes dark with arousal. Their eyes lock and it’s all over.
Pete pulls out and flips Joe over, smashing their lips together so hard their teeth clack. Joe moans into the kiss and lets Pete lick into his mouth, bite at his lips, whatever he wants as long as he doesn’t stop.
Strong hands fall on his thighs, pushing them up until Joe’s feet are next to Pete’s ears, and Pete doesn’t bother to pause before slamming into Joe. They moan in unison, almost louder than the music now. Neither of them cares.
Pete draws his hips back until only his head is left inside Joe, before fucking into him once again. He sets a brutal pace that has Joe struggling to catch his breath, feeling helpless under Pete. He’s so turned on he can’t even think about squeezing a hand between their body to jerk off, so he just lets Pete pound deeper and deeper into him, hitting his prostate nearly every thrust.
“Fuck, this is all you’re good for, isn’t it? Being my perfect little fucktoy?” Joe is too far gone to respond with anything more than a moan, nodding his head.
Pete fists a hand in his hair and pulls, forcing Joe’s head back so his neck is exposed.
“Answer,” he demands. “What are you?”
“Yes, fuck, I’m your fucktoy,” Joe moans, head falling back when Pete releases his grip on his hair.
“Yeah, you are,” Pete replies, voice breathless as he continues slamming into Joe.
He can tell Pete’s getting close when he speeds up, his hands pushing Joe’s legs farther up until the angle of his hips allows him to drive even deeper, until Joe can feel him in his throat . He keeps going until his hips stutter, and then he’s coming deep inside Joe with a groan.
Once he’s recovered, Pete pulls out and sits between Joe’s legs, hands keeping them pressed up high. Pete holds him open as cum drips out of his hole, watching with dark eyes. Joe swallows hard, feeling small and exposed under Pete’s gaze.
Two fingers circle his hole, catching some of the cum for Pete to bring up to his own mouth and lick. The sight makes Joe whimper as he remembers how painfully hard he still is. His whine catches Pete’s attention, finally, and he looks up at Joe as if he forgot he was there.
“Oh, you want more? That wasn’t enough to satisfy you? God, you really are needy.” All Joe can do is whine, squirming under Pete’s gaze.
Pete finally lets his legs fall back to the bed and sighs.
“I’m pretty sure you already got more than you deserve,” Pete says condescendingly. “Especially with that tiny little dick of yours. How can you still want more?” Joe suddenly feels desperate, and he needs more, doesn’t think he can go on without it.
“Please, please, no. I’ll be good, I’ll be your good little fucktoy, I promise, just let me come,” Joe begs, eyes pleading.
“I don’t even know what you expect me to do with it, honestly. There’s not even enough for me to jack off.” It’s a lie, Pete has gagged on Joe’s cock too many times for Joe to think otherwise, but right now, in this headspace, he believes it.
“Please,” tears are welling in his eyes now and he feels so pathetic, so stupid as he sits here begging.
Pete hums as he looks over Joe like he’s considering it. Finally, his fingers come up to dance lightly along Joe’s shaft, and it’s almost worse than when he was getting no contact at all. His back arches as he seeks more friction, and when he’s unable to find it, he brings his hand up to his cock without thinking. Before he can even touch himself, white-hot pain explodes across his cheek and his head is tossed to the side. Pete moves faster than Joe can keep up with; his hands are taken from him and pinned palm-up underneath Pete’s knees. A tattooed hand comes up and grabs his chin hard enough to be painful, forcing Joe to look at Pete.
“You are going to come from what I give you or not at all, understand?” Pete asks darkly. Joe nods, tears streaming down his hot cheeks. “Good,” Pete says, releasing Joe’s jaw.
“I was going to jerk you off, but now I think I have a better idea.” And before Joe can even wonder what that idea is, Pete slaps the side of his cock, sending a shockwave of pain throughout his entire body.
“Fuck! ” Joe shouts, keening under Pete’s weight but unable to escape. Before he can recover, another slap lands on the other side of his shaft and he cries out in pain. It’s not enough to do any damage, but it hurts more than anything Joe has done in bed before and he loves it.
“Does that feel good, baby? When I slap your tiny little cock?” He strikes again, this time tapping firmly on Joe’s balls. “Huh?”
“Fuck, yeah, feels so fucking good,” Joe sobs, face now a mess of tears and snot. Pete slaps him again.
“Yeah, I bet. You just needed to be reminded of your place, right baby? Needed to be slapped around and shown that you’re nothing more than a fleshlight?” Joe can feel his balls drawing up now, pressure building in his groin, and when Pete finishes his sentence with a sharp smack to his dick, he comes so hard his vision goes white.
When he finally comes back to his body, Pete is there at his side, stroking his cheek softly.
“Hey, baby.” His voice is soft enough that Joe thinks he could fall asleep right then and there. “How’re you feeling?”
“Awesome,” he mumbles, burrowing his way into Pete’s chest, hiding from the sounds of the party still raging outside. The older chuckles slightly as he brings his arms around Joe.
“Good. You did so well for me, sweetheart. So good.” The praise makes Joe feel warm and tingly inside, his head so light he could just float away. But Pete is there keeping him grounded, a steady warmth as he drifts to sleep in his arms.