"Fuck fuck fuck oh god oh fuuuuuck" he whines, his movements desperate for a few short moments, but even if he'd wanted to he can't hold back, not with what Quentin is doing back there, not with those filthy words in his ear and his own hand rapidly stroking his cock. He tenses, coming with a surprised cry, painting little stripes of come on the cheap dresser of his hotel room, tensing around the fingers inside him. His head falls to the dresser with a quiet thud, his breathing heavy as he shivers through his orgasm. "Oh god..."