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Ferran would say he's on more than good terms with Pedri – what with the recent platonic sex and whatnot – he's still taken slightly aback when Pedri knocks on his hotel door at 2 in the morning, barges in and tells him, “I need your help.”
It's a good relationship. They're friends. Ferran hadn't even known that sex could be casual before, but that's exactly what it is. Sex with no intimacy.
So, strangely enough, it is out-of-place for Pedri to look so pale in Ferran's hotel room. For him to seek Ferran out at this hour.
“Er – you ok?,” Ferran asks, unsure how to handle the situation. Pedri raises his eyebrows, like the notion of being ok is ridiculously far from true.
“No.”
He slumps, sighing as he visibly tries to collect himself. Whatever's wrong, it seems to disturb Pedri deeply. Ferran just hopes it's nothing crazy.
“I…,” Pedri starts, then interrupts himself, staring at Ferran with large eyes, "you cannot tell this to anyone.”
“Ok,” confirms Ferran. “Promise.”
Pedri draws in a deep breath before his face suddenly gets pink – he grabs Ferran's wrist and drags his hand close to him, directing it down…
Down…
Until it's pressed between Pedri's legs.
“What are you doing?,” Ferran asks, feeling lost. Pedri remains quiet, only pressing Ferran's hand firmer against his crotch – Ferran wants to yank his hand back but Pedri won't let him.
“Are you stupid?,” Pedri hisses. Only then does Ferran realise:
There's no dick.
Ferran's jaw actually drops at the realisation.
It's like winning the jackpot. An incredibly rare phenomenon – Ferran doesn't personally know anyone who's gotten the fabled switch before but he's heard tales, lots of them. And watched porn, of course. To think it happens to Pedri of all people – right now, with Ferran being the only one he could reliably turn to. It's not like winning the jackpot as much as it is winning five of them back-to-back with his life on the line.
Pedri lets go of his wrist, crossing his arms over his chest. “All I did was nap, and I woke up with it. But I want it gone. You'll help me, right?”
Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Good,” Pedri says, only looking slightly relieved when he pushes past him and heads off to the bedroom. He moves like he's in a hurry, strangely enough – like he wants this to be over as soon as possible. Ferran follows him carefully, stopping at the door frame and watching him drag his shirt off.
“You look pissed,” Ferran comments. He, for one, would like to take his time to enjoy Pedri's new body thoroughly.
“I'm not,” mumbles Pedri. He sits down on the bed, the act of undressing interrupted and only leaving him shirtless. “Could you turn the lights off?”
Ferran snorts but complies anyway, pulling his shirt off and approaching the bed. “This is the closest you'll get to normal vanilla sex, I don't know why you're so weirded out.”
“Easy for you to say,” Pedri says. The room is dark but not pitch-black, thanks to Ferran not shutting the blinds. “You’re not the one with a…”
Ferran pushes him to lay down on his back, climbing on top of him like they've already done a few times by now. Pedri sighs through his nose and doesn't put up much of a fight.
“A pussy?,” Ferran provides. Pedri deflates, accepting his fate.
“Yeah.”
When Ferran runs his fingers down Pedri's sides until they grab the hem of his pants, Pedri raises his hips in invitation, allowing Ferran to pull them off easily. He keeps his thighs close, or, as close as he can manage to get them, shielding Ferran from seeing anything. It's sort of endearing.
He places his hands on Pedri's knees and pushes them apart gently, edging closer so they're kept apart by Ferran's body. Pedri looks like his mind is racing, eyes struggling to settle on something to look at.
“Y’know,” Ferran starts, “ I could make you feel really good, if you relax.”
Pedri nods quickly, spreading his legs some more. The nervous, blushy act isn't one that Ferran could imagine Pedri expressing which makes it all feel much fun, somehow. He leans back and lets his eyes take in the sight until they settle at the patch of hair between Pedri's legs – he's about to touch him when Pedri snaps his knees together and groans, tossing his head back into the pillow.
“God,” he says and Ferran can't help laughing at him, placing his hands on his knees to separate them again. “Stop staring and fuck me.”
Ferran tuts. “No way, I'll chafe my dick.”
He pulls Pedri close to press the tent in his pants against Pedri's naked cunt, feeling the promising warmth against his dick. Pedri's breath hitches slightly at the contact – it probably feels crazy, Ferran finds himself thinking with a surprising amount of jealousy.
“Get it wet, then,” Pedri mumbles, tilting his hips up experimentally. Ferran's eyes rake over the sight below him one last time before backing off, holding Pedri's thighs open with a vice grip as he sinks down until he's eye-level with Pedri's cunt. The closeness alone seems to have Pedri nauseous, head lolling to the side as he takes a deep breath as if to steady himself.
He's not really telling Ferran to stop. So Ferran presses his tongue flat against his entrance, licking upward and brushing over his clit, firm and slow, before going back down.
“Oh,” Pedri says when Ferran pulls away. His hips chase the feeling subconsciously, reaching for Ferran's mouth. It's like he expected to hate it – Ferran grins, gleeful at having proved him wrong.
“Feels good, right?,” he asks, spreading Pedri's cunt with his thumbs before diving back in, licking at his entrance and letting his nose press against the clit. This is familiar territory, this he knows how to work – Ferran's stomach churns as he feels how Pedri quickly slickens up, thinking of all the things he wants to do to him. He's gonna drive Pedri fucking crazy.
Pedri doesn't answer but he doesn't really need to, the way he's breathing hard and rocking his hips explains how it feels well enough. His hands end up in Ferran's hair, trying to press him closer as his hips grind upwards, crushing his face against his wet folds. Feeling that he wants to tease him, Ferran starts avoiding Pedri's clit and instead licks around it and focuses his attention downwards, lapping at his slickening hole insistently. Pedri groans above him, voice tense from either overwhelmingness or frustration, hips unable to settle as he tries to guide Ferran. He holds Pedri still with a firm grip on his hips, leaning back slightly.
“We’re not in a hurry,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss against Pedri's neglected clit which makes his whole body twitch deliciously. “Wanna help you relax, is all.”
With that, he gives Pedri's cunt a few pats just to piss him off. Pedri can't seem to calm down his breathing – Ferran's words have him stuttering around something before blurting out, “I'm relaxed already!”
When he presses his tongue back against his clit, giving it slow, firm licks, Pedri makes the most erotic sound Ferran's heard. His thighs clamp shut around Ferran's head like he wants to keep him there which Ferran has no complaints about whatsoever – he speeds up, working his tongue the way he knows will have Pedri sweating and yanking Ferran's hair desperately, gasps erratic and whimpers loud as he struggles to grapple with the pleasure.
“Aah,” he whines, voice high and heavy like he might break at any moment, “whatthefuck – that feels – mmh!”
Ferran hums against him, letting him feel the vibration of his voice against his sensitive folds and revelling in the way it has Pedri squirming, completely unable to keep his mouth shut. It's fun to have him babble nonsense, only able to utter three or four words before anything he tries to say dissolves into needy whimpers and moans.
“Fuck, fuck, that’s good,” he heaves. Writhing, he struggles to break out of Ferran's grip, always alternating between leaning into his mouth or trying to get away when he feels too sensitive. His cunt keeps getting wetter and wetter – Ferran groans as he lets the taste fill his brain with a dense fog of arousal, grinding his hard dick against the mattress to alleviate some pressure.
“Please, please…”
God, he's so sensitive. His thighs shake against Ferran's head from the intensity, his voice so needy it's like he's been at it for hours. Ferran can tell that Pedri's close from the way his breathing’s getting loud and erratic, his legs finally loosening, falling open in a silent plea to keep giving more until he breaks. He wraps his lips around Pedri's clit and sucks – the action has Pedri moaning loud and high, body spasming so hard Ferran has to hold him still by tightly grabbing handfuls of his thighs. Pedri breaks apart against Ferran as he cums, shuddering as his orgasm crashes through him. Ferran keeps his face pressed close against his clit, licking and sucking as Pedri whines wetly above him, shaking violently through the aftershocks. Ferran groans at the sight, feeling his stomach stir in response to Pedri's sniffling and squirming.
The two hands in Ferran's hair force him off when he's too overstimulated. He's still breathing hard – Ferran lets his eyes wander across his flushed body and eventually his face, his dark eyes are like dark pits that Ferran loses himself in easily. Pedri stares back at him with a spacey gaze, obviously still trying to land from the peak of his orgasm. “Shit,” he mumbles.
Ferran grins at the sight of him. “How was that?”
He leans down to press their foreheads together, brushing his nose against Pedri's as he watches him try to find the words.
“Uh… intense,” Pedri responds quietly, his warm hands coming up to rest on Ferran's shoulders. There's a familiar urge bubbling in Ferran's chest, the one that makes him want to toss Pedri around, overwhelm him until he can't take it anymore, until his face is flushed bright red and tear-streaked – Ferran absorbs it all, lets it get to his head and make him go slightly mad with need.
Ferran licks his lips before leaning in and kissing Pedri roughly, swallowing the pleased hum that Pedri makes at the contact. He ushers Pedri's jaw open with his thumb, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and let Pedri taste himself properly. His body is completely relaxed underneath him – he doesn't resist when Ferran's hand presses against his pussy, fingers spreading his folds and finding his clit with ease.
Ferran pulls back, focusing his attention on his fingers rubbing tight circles against Pedri's sensitive clit. Pedri sighs loudly, eyes falling shut as he grinds upwards – Ferran doesn't hold him still, letting him chase the pleasure freely this time. The sight of him moving his body against Ferran's hand is making him dizzy with arousal – it's crazy how natural it looks, like this is how Pedri's body is.
“You look fucking hot like this,” Ferran says, voice sounding heady with desire. Pedri's breath hitches slightly at the words, eyes blinking open to peer up at Ferran with an unfocused stare – Ferran could just eat him up.
“Yeah?,” Pedri asks. Ferran's wrist is starting to cramp from the awkward way he's twisting it but he doesn't want to stop – doesn't want to interrupt Pedri's pleasure, the urge to watch him cum again thrumming loudly within him. “Hotter than usual?”
There's a playful glint in Pedri's eyes as he grins at his own question. Ferran exhales a laugh, feeling strangely flustered.
“I like change,” he replies simply. “Wouldn't mind if you kept it.”
“...Kept it?”
“Yeah.” He licks his lips, gaze wandering down towards where his fingers brush against Pedri's clit. “It'll stay until someone cums inside you. So like, you could keep it.”
Ferran only knows it from porn. He realises a little too late that he's made it obvious what his guilty pleasure is – he looks back up at Pedri and finds that he's flushed all the way down to his neck, jaw slack as his breathing picks up. Whether from Ferran's words or fingers, he can't really tell.
“That… shit, that's hot.” Pedri's hands grip Ferran's shoulders harder as he grows desperate, squirming and shaking his head fiercely. “But – no, I-I don't want it.”
Ferran's head spins with arousal. “You don't?,” he asks, speeding his hand up and pressing firmer, feeling like he's getting drunk on Pedri's gasps and whimpers alone. “I could make you feel this good every night.”
Pedri whines loudly, nails digging into Ferran's back at the words. It would be so hot, sharing such a secret with him – the thought alone has Ferran's cock straining against his pants.
“Can't,” Pedri manages, body stuttering as he approaches his orgasm. “I – I can't –”
Trembling, he cums a second time, pushed by Ferran's fingers rubbing hard at his clit. Ferran hooks his hand under Pedri's knee and pushes it up as he rubs harder and faster, revelling in the way Pedri squeals at the intensity.
“Do one more,” Ferran tells him.
Pedri shakes his head again, gasping loudly and shutting his eyes. “Ah – ah, it's – too much –”
Ferran keeps his pace constant – it doesn't take very long until Pedri's body spasms again, teeth pressed tightly together as he tries to breathe through it. His pussy throbs thickly against Ferran's hand as he cums much harder than his previous orgasms – he doesn't let up until Pedri's drawing distinctly hiccupy gasps, legs shaking violently like he's being electrocuted.
He presses his thighs together immediately when Ferran leans away, scrambling to sit up and draw his knees close to his chest as he tries to catch his breath.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “I need a moment.”
The display is immensely satisfying. Ferran sits back and crosses his legs, wincing as he flexes his sore wrist. He could watch Pedri cum a thousand times more, he's sure of it.
“Has this happened to you before?,” Pedri asks after a small pause. The question catches him slightly off guard. He shrugs, answering simply.
“Nope.”
Pedri raises his eyebrows – like the fact surprises him. “Ah, well, you're… good. With it.”
Ferran tries his best not to laugh but can't help himself, the unexpected positive feedback strangely endearing. “Thanks?”
Pedri blushes and smiles, shoulders raising defensively. “What? I'm sure women love you.”
Inching closer, Ferran places his hands on the sides of Pedri's thighs. “You think?”
His hands roam up to his knees – he pries them open gently, leaning into Pedri's space easily and trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses down his throat.
“It feels crazy,” Pedri says. “Like, crazy. …I want my dick back.”
Ferran laughs against his skin. “I think it's good to have fun with it first. Might never happen again.”
“Uh-huh,” Pedri mutters without much conviction, tilting his head up to give Ferran easier access. “This should've happened to you instead. You'd love this.”
Ferran hums in agreement, giving Pedri a cute hickey on the side of his throat. A souvenir, if you will.
“Would you keep it?”
Smiling, Ferran hums against him again. “For a few days, yeah. I'd be throwing parties.”
Pedri shakes his head in disbelief with a chuckle. Ferran leans back then, pulling Pedri with him and pushing him down to lay down again. That lustful haze is setting in Pedri’s eyes again when he peers up at Ferran, limbs soft and pliant in Ferran's arms. Ferran leans back to sit on his haunches, gaze wandering over Pedri's form for the upteenth time to try to commit it to memory.
“If you could see yourself right now,” he mutters, raking his thumb along Pedri's folds. The urge to press his mouth against his cunt once more is strong – he hasn't gotten enough of the way Pedri caged him in with his legs and pulled at his hair, making sounds Ferran didn't even know he could make.
“Am I pretty?”
Ferran laughs. “You want me to call you pretty?”
It strangely weirds Ferran out how it fits – it's such a flowery word, one that he'd usually reserve for women. Pretty, cute, beautiful. But he does look pretty right now. Ferran wonders if Pedri hears it from other people. From women. Or …men, yeah, men probably call him pretty.
“Am I not?,” Pedri asks, tone innocent. “Am I handsome, then?”
God, Pedri makes him feel so stupid sometimes.
“No,” he tells him. “You look very pretty.”
Pedri visibly preens at the compliment, his smile playful and genuine – Ferran quickly makes a mental note to keep complimenting him in the future. Two fingers push against Pedri's entrance but don't quite enter – he moves them up and down, coating his digits in Pedri's slick before stroking along the length of his pussy teasingly. Pedri groans at the feeling, hips stuttering when he brushes across his clit.
“It's still too sensitive,” Pedri says, trying to close his legs. Moving his fingers down, Ferran hums thoughtfully and rubs his entrance with firm strokes.
Pedri squirms, hands splayed against the mattress. “I could suck you off, if you wanna keep going.”
Ferran almost says yes immediately – but a blowjob isn't really special when you have a magic pussy. It’d be a waste.
“Nah,” Ferran says. “Wanna give you proper princess treatment.”
Pedri looks taken off guard by the words, blush high on his cheeks and mouth slightly agape. “Oh – ok.”
Retracting his hand, Ferran backs away to give Pedri some space.
“Turn around,” he says with a small pat on Pedri's thigh. He grabs Pedri's hips and pulls him close as soon as he's laying on his stomach, letting Pedri's wet cunt press against the bulge in his pants. He ruts forward into the heat, watching how Pedri moves back against him with a shaky exhale.
Ferran presses a finger against his rim then, rubbing against it in time with his hips which makes Pedri let out a guttural groan into the pillow.
“Still like being fucked here?,” Ferran asks with a grin – he presses inside slowly, his finger still wet with slick from his pussy, entranced by the way Pedri's body dissolves underneath him.
“Yes, fuck,” Pedri heaves, his hands coming up to grab the pillow. Ferran presses his finger all the way inside, his other hand flat over Pedri's lower back to anchor him. Pedri deflates into the mattress when he feels Ferran's knuckles press against him, moving his finger across his walls firmly. Under usual circumstances Ferran would be massaging his prostate – Pedri must realise it too, at least judging from the way he squirms and whimpers quietly at the way it feels so wrong. Ferran thrusts forward with his hips, pressing his clothed cock against the wet heat of Pedri's cunt – Pedri moans and pushes his body back against Ferran with a curse.
“Shit, this is so hot,” Ferran mumbles, pulling his finger away to reach for the lube on the nightstand. Pedri braces himself visibly, taking a steadying breath and propping himself up on his elbows as Ferran coats his fingers with lubricant. He pushes two fingers past his rim slowly, watching the way Pedri takes it. Rocking back towards Ferran whenever his fingers pull away or go too slowly, like he's asking for more with his entire body.
Pedri's head sinks when he's knuckle-deep inside him, groaning at the stretch. “Fuck,” he pants. He shoves himself backwards again, trying to get friction against his cunt. “C-Can you touch me?”
“Touch you?,” Ferran asks, curving his fingers down and preening at the way Pedri arches like his entire body is lit with pleasure. “I’m already touching you.”
Ferran knows what he means, obviously – his dick isn't pressed against Pedri's cunt anymore and Pedri can't seem to stop fidgeting at the loss of contact. Groaning again, Pedri shudders before uttering, “Yeah but, touch me – like – you did before.”
He really is too shy to say it. Ferran spreads his fingers inside him, starting to thrust them in and out of him with a steady pace, grinning at the way Pedri gasps at the feeling. He lets his other hand roam across Pedri's back and thigh, humming thoughtfully.
“I was touching you everywhere, you'll need to be specific.”
“God!,” Pedri heaves. “My – my clit, can you touch my – aah, fuck, yes.”
Ferran places his other hand against Pedri's folds, petting him with the tips of his fingers as he keeps stretching his hole with a constant pace. Pedri's body shakes at the feeling before his arms give out, making his upper body slide down against the mattress. Whenever Ferran focuses his attention on Pedri's clit he starts making those moans again, the ones he were making when Ferran had his mouth pressed against him – needy, strung up noises that sound like they come straight from Pedri's core.
Fuck, he feels so wet. Ferran lets his hand run all over him, spreading his slick everywhere before pulling his fingers out of his hole and replacing them with three, teasing them against his rim.
Pedri shifts, silently asking Ferran to push inside. Keeping the three fingers pressed against him, Ferran brings his other hand to press another two against his cunt, rubbing both his holes firmly. Pedri makes a startled sound at the contact, hips grinding like crazy as he squirms.
“Want me to stretch both?,” Ferran asks. He presses in with both hands but doesn't breach him, only applying pressure, waiting for the green light. Pedri whines into the pillow, body arching into Ferran's. “Shit, you want that?”
The pathetic, muffled ‘yes’ is all Ferran needs to push forward, fingers entering and filling both his holes – God, the sight has Ferran so hard he might fucking pass out. Pedri is loud underneath him, body tense, stuttering and writhing uncontrollably against the sheets. When Ferran finds his g-spot Pedri starts to shake again, his voice raising an octave as he gasps and whimpers, empty pleas and sweet nothings spilling out of his mouth before he can filter them.
“Ffuck,” he whimpers, voice trembling. “Fuck – fuck – your fingers –”
It's hard to synchronise the thrusts from this position but Ferran does his best, once again ignoring the way his wrists cramp from overexertion. He thrusts them in and out steadily, pushing against Pedri's g-spot, occasionally rubbing it hard until Pedri whimpers frantically and his body curls in on itself before going back to slowly thrusting.
“How does it feel?,” Ferran asks, unable to stifle his curiosity. He curls both his fingers down, wincing inwardly at the burn in his wrists.
“G-Good,” Pedri answers. No shit, Ferran wants to say back. “Like I'm – mmh – really… full.”
Ferran wishes he had a third hand to touch Pedri's clit with – he's sure Pedri would love that, keening and whining all loud and shaky until he gets too sensitive and has to ask Ferran to stop.
Unable to bear the pain anymore, Ferran retracts his fingers from Pedri's hole – Pedri whines loudly at the loss, arching, using his body to ask Ferran to fill him up again.
“My hand’s killing me,” he mumbles, pushing his other two fingers deep inside Pedri's pussy and pressing against his g-spot, rubbing it hard and fast – not stopping when Pedri makes a high squeal and writhes into the pillow. “Can you cum like this? Need me to touch your clit?”
Pedri moans loudly, voice strung up as he tries to reply. “I don't know – shit, it feels – feels so good,” he babbles, dissolving into more whimpers as Ferran keeps his rhythm constant. “Ah – p-please, fuck, please –!”
Pedri's legs keep shaking like it takes all his energy to keep himself upright – it's so addicting to watch, knowing how strong his legs are it shouldn't feel possible for them to be reduced to putty like this. Ferran curses under his breath, keeping his pace as constant as he can. The sounds Pedri keeps making go straight to Ferran's core, he's straining so hard against his boxers it's borderline painful. Pedri keeps getting wetter and needier and Ferran wants to just give him everything he has right now, wants to make Pedri feel so good he never comes down from his high.
Pedri’s body shakes as he cums – he lets out a noise that sounds a lot like a sob, body contorting and writhing with pleasure. He's rambling but Ferran can't quite make out the words, muffled as they are with Pedri keeping his face pressed into the pillow.
Ferran keeps going until Pedri pushes himself up on his palms, whimpering a frantic ‘stopstopstop.’
“Fuck,” Ferran says with a groan, sitting back and massaging his wrist, wincing at the pain. Pedri flops back down with an exhale, turning to the side so he sort of faces Ferran. He looks ruined – hair plastered to his forehead, his face and eyes red like he really had been sobbing.
“Shit,” Pedri says with a heavy exhale. “You could do that to any girl and she'd fall in love with you, I’m telling you.”
Smiling, Ferran hooks his thumbs in his pants and underwear, finally freeing his dick from cloth prison. “That means you just fell in love with me.”
“I almost fucking did,” Pedri says. “I still feel… soft, God, I don't know.”
Ferran's never seen Pedri so jumbled up before. It's doing crazy things to Ferran's ego, watching him try to collect himself after his orgasm as if Ferran really did manage to pick him apart. He wraps a hand around his dick and sighs at the much needed pressure, feeling like his whole body is tense from the pent up energy.
“Are you gonna fuck me?,” Pedri asks, eyes glued to Ferran's cock – he looks gone, his gaze dark and intense with lust.
“That's what you wanted, right?,” Ferran says, suddenly feeling unsure. Pedri nods, blushing slightly.
“Yeah,” he says. “But I wanna suck you off so bad.”
Ferran grins at the words, giving himself a firm stroke. “No, I wanna be inside you.” He leans forward, reaching over to drag Pedri close by the hips. “Suck me off as much as you want later, when you have your dick back.”
Pedri props himself up on his elbows, watching the way Ferran's cockhead bumps against his folds with an unreadable expression. “Fuck,” he mumbles, tilting his hips up.
Ferran pushes forward, missing on purpose so the length of his cock drags across Pedri's clit instead – Pedri lets out a small whimper at the contact, thighs twitching like he wants to close them. Pedri reaches down to spread his cunt, holding it open – Ferran wonders if he even touched it before, the sight of him holding himself open making his cock twitch.
“I'm so nervous,” Pedri says, still entranced by the sight of Ferran's dick rubbing against his pussy. “This is gonna work, right?”
Ferran holds the base of his cock, aiming it so the head presses against the clit and rubs against it tightly, revelling in the sparks of pleasure. “Yes.”
“It won't get me pregnant?”
What.
Ferran's unsure how to even respond – he looks up at Pedri and finds that his face is flushed red.
“C-Cause I have the, like,” Pedri starts, then struggles to finish his sentence. He makes a vague gesture towards his lower stomach, where his womb sits. “Equipment.”
Fucking hell.
“You do, but,” Ferran starts, feeling flustered, “it's not gonna take nine months to turn back.”
Pedri blinks. Like he hadn't really thought that far. “Oh.”
“I mean, I dunno if it'll be the same but I could use a condom –”
“No,” Pedri interrupts. “No, I want it inside.”
Chuckling at Pedri's insistence, Ferran slides his dick against Pedri's pussy again and he feels impossibly wetter, like the thought of Ferran cumming inside and accidentally impregnating him has Pedri excited. He grins as he notices it, watching Pedri's expression carefully.
“Does it turn you on?,” he asks. “The risk?”
Pedri blushes, directing his gaze away from Ferran's face – the reaction tells Ferran all he needs to know. “Fuck off,” Pedri mumbles in response, breath hitching when Ferran's cock slides against his clit a little too hard.
He keeps an eye on Pedri as he lines himself up and starts sliding inside, watching for any indication of pain or discomfort. Pedri's cunt is wet and tight like a vice, his walls squeezing Ferran's dick so hard it knocks the breath out of him. There's a cloudiness that gradually sets in Pedri's eyes, jaw loosening as he takes him – Ferran goes slowly, letting the intense heat engulf him carefully and trying not to break.
Pedri whimpers when he's all the way inside, heaving from the sensation and rocking his hips experimentally. Ferran watches his body – the way his stomach tenses and how he alternates between gripping the sheets and splaying his fingers across it, the thin sheen of sweat making him slightly glisten in the moonlight.
“How does it feel?,” Ferran asks, doing his best to collect himself. “Is – is it good?”
Pedri nods deliriously. “It burns,” he says. “It's really – fuck, I don't know.”
Ferran moves his hips a little, thrusting deep inside him – it does burn, Ferran feels it too, the way Pedri's walls flutter and squeeze around his cock, so soft and pliant and warm. Warm enough to make his entire body feel like it's on fire, burning from the inside. Pedri's hand comes up to grip the back of Ferran's neck frantically, making a needy little sound as Ferran moves inside him.
“I'm going insane,” Pedri says breathlessly – to which Ferran can't do anything else but grab his hips and start thrusting properly, as if he'd like to speed up the process and make Pedri go insane as soon as possible – Ferran groans as he moves, losing himself in the feeling. It feels so good. So fucking good.
“Fuck,” Ferran pants, “you feel so…”
Pedri whines, gripping the soft hair on the nape of Ferran's neck. The position is a little awkward with Pedri half-sitting in Ferran's lap, not quite allowing Ferran to thrust properly which Ferran suddenly finds unacceptable. He groans as he pulls out, trying not to mourn the heat too much – Pedri makes a dissatisfied little sound, letting go of Ferran's hair to instead press his fingers against his cunt like he can't go a single second without stimulation.
“Turn around,” Ferran tells him and Pedri complies clumsily, his limbs weak with exhaustion – he moans into the pillow when Ferran slides inside again, the position letting him reach much deeper than before. Ferran holds Pedri's hips tightly, pressing forward so he's buried all the way inside, head spinning at the way Pedri's walls squeeze his dick like he's trying to drain him. “Fuck, that's better, right?”
Arching, Pedri sighs into the pillow and stretches his arms above him, fingers splaying like a cat.
“Mhm,” he says, moaning loudly when Ferran starts fucking him properly – and, shit, Ferran feels like he can finally unleash himself, his thrusts getting increasingly hard as instinct starts to take over and make him chase the mind-numbing pleasure without even thinking to. Pedri feels so soft and pliant, so inviting, that Ferran can't help but take it all greedily. Pedri starts babbling again, voice high and choked up as he struggles to talk – Ferran can't get enough of it, of how detached Pedri gets, his body so sensitive he seems to feel everything tenfold.
“Ferran,” he keens wetly, pulling at the sheets, “it's so – deep –”
Ferran reaches over to squeeze the sides of Pedri's neck then, choking him like they've done once before – Pedri liked it then and he seems to love it now, his body writhing as he gasps frantically, hands scrambling to grip the sheets harder. His moans start sounding strained and desperate, crying out when Ferran tightens the grip on his neck. Ferran's hips speed up, feeling that pleasant warmth start to coil in his abdomen and chasing the feeling eagerly, closing his eyes and moaning as he gets lost in it all. He forgets to release Pedri's throat until frantic hands start trying to peel him off – Ferran doesn't resist, instead placing his hand in Pedri's hair and pushing his face into the pillow, watching with sick pleasure how Pedri writhes as he struggles to breathe.
He holds for a few seconds before yanking him up by the hair, listening to him gasp what must be a gratifying rush of oxygen, shaking violently against him.
“Fuck,” Pedri breathes, voice high, “I – I'm gonna cum –”
Letting his hair go, Ferran opts to grips his hips with both hands again, digging his fingers into his flesh hard enough to (hopefully) bruise. “Shit, you gonna cum again?”
Pedri whimpers and nods – he pushes his face down into the pillow to muffle himself when Ferran reaches around and places his fingers against his clit, rubbing his clit with quick strokes.
“I'm close too, fuck,” Ferran heaves. “Gonna cum inside you – shit, I'll fill you up.”
Pedri sobs into the pillow, body curling in on itself as pleasure overtakes him. His entire cunt throbs against his fingers, his walls fluttering and tensing with his entire stomach as his orgasm crashes down on him – Ferran groans at the tightness, drinking in the way he shakes like a leaf against the mattress, his legs struggling to hold himself up.
“Pleasepleaseplease,” Pedri chants – Ferran hasn't ever heard him sound like this, his voice so weak it sounds like he's on the verge of having a breakdown, “ah – I'm – I want it so bad, fuck.”
Ferran keeps his fingers against Pedri's clit, rubbing even when he makes a high-pitched whine, gasping and choking wetly into the pillow. He shakes his head deliriously, struggling to enunciate the words as he tries to say, “I can't, I can't.”
But he can. Ferran closes his eyes tight as Pedri sobs through a second orgasm, tightening his body around Ferran once more and it feels like heaven for Ferran to grab him and hold him close, making the heat in his core start to spread as his own orgasm approaches quickly. He groans loudly, never wanting this feeling to end – Pedri whimpers underneath him, his body shaking with oversensitivity. Ferran doesn't need much more before he's tipped over the edge, moaning as he spills deep inside Pedri's cunt and filling him up good. Pedri's hips tremble against him, taking it all so well, his walls fluttering around Ferran's cock and wringing it all out of him. Ferran grinds his hips against Pedri – the feeling is golden, like fireworks going off in his stomach. Pedri whines at the feeling, so sensitive and raw that he gasps at any movement inside him.
Ferran stays inside for a moment, trying to catch his breath and land from whatever cloud he ended up on. Pedri squirms underneath him and Ferran eventually takes pity, sliding out gingerly and watching how his cum drips out of Pedri's cunt. Pedri takes the opportunity to relax his legs, letting them unfurl slowly from their position.
They take a moment to just breathe. Pedri brings a hand up to wipe his eyes and the sight makes Ferran grow slightly worried, fearing that he'd gone too far.
“That wasn't too much, was it?,” he asks – regretting it immediately when Pedri laughs, head thumping back into the pillow. “Oh, whatever.”
“You're killing the mood,” Pedri says, giving Ferran a light kick. He gets the message loud and clear: I'm not fragile. Shaking his head, Ferran resists the urge to lean in and let Pedri wrap his arms around him – he always has to get all sappy after cumming which works fine for anyone but Pedri who is useless post-orgasm, only able to stay awake for ten minutes at best. Especially after intense sessions.
“You should shower,” Ferran says, fearing that Pedri might fall asleep in his bed. Pedri whines in response, flopping over to lay on his front.
“No,” he says. “Girls in porn always lie here, after.”
“You're not a girl in porn.”
There's a slight pause before Pedri snorts stupidly, like it took him a moment to really understand the words. “Holy shit. Could you imagine?”
Sighing, Ferran shakes Pedri's ankle, praying to God that he'll be able to convince him to get up. “This shit is annoying as hell to sleep with. I can help if you’re lazy.”
“No,” Pedri insists. “I want to let it …soak. I want this to work.”
That, Ferran knows for a fact, is made up. He shakes his head again, exasparated. “There's no such thing as letting it soak. You sound like a wife with baby fever.”
…Ferran waits for a response but gets nothing. Damn it.
Leaning in to take a proper look, Pedri is indeed fast asleep. Ferran supposes it's impressive he held out this long after how many orgasms – five? Six? Yeah. It's impressive that he could even talk, honestly, regardless of how slurred the words sounded.
Grumbling, Ferran lies down and drapes the comforter over them both, not having the heart to wake him up. He yanks Pedri close and shoves his face in Pedri's neck, allowing himself to be as sappy and clingy as he wants – at least Pedri can't complain about this, Ferran thinks with an air of victory, drowsiness quickly making him fall into a deep sleep.