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He's doing that fucking thing with his tongue again.
Normally this would be a good thing, a GREAT thing even. Pants down to your upper calves, legs nudged open, and your back up against some poor fuck's totalled convertible as you try to keep upright and not collapse into a shuddering, strung out heap while receiving some of the most mindblowing head of your life-
(Which admittedly... isn't saying much. Your luck may err on the side of dogshit when it comes to getting laid, but beggars can't be choosers, and having the sexiest motherfucker you know keep choosing to get down on his knees for you has... maaaaybe been going to your head a little bit.)
(To both of them maybe.)
(Just a little bit.)
(Whatever.)
Anyways, they've got two of their clever, delightfully thick and calloused fingers nice and deep inside your snatch, curling in and pumping out with the kind of careless efficacy that has you biting back swears and heady little gasps all the while they continue to expertly suck you off, all slow and languid and shamelessly sloppy, just how you like it.
You're still tryin' to play shit cool though, periodically chancing glances towards the entrance of the shop. You got your hand digging into your thigh, (instead of deep into his scalp and deep into that stupid fucking pomp,) and grunting through the pleasure as you try to keep your sex noises down to a minimum.
(You've become more than acquainted with how horny he gets for your voice since this whole... thing started, so what's a bit of pragmatic spite to level the playing fields a bit-)
But then they do that fucking thing to your dick again, just a slight flick to the tip that makes your legs spasm, before pressing their tongue flat against the underside, from root to tip, curling their tongue around it and sucking hard.
And thanks to that cheap fucking bullshit, you keen, loud and airy and unbidden, and you don't even have to look down to know the bastard's grinning up at you like it's the funniest shit in the world.
"Aye, ¡aguas, vato!" Angel warns lightly, eyes glittering with amusement as he presses a quick little peck to the head, just to be more annoying. "Don't wanna traumatize some poor fucker wandering by with all that extra noise, eh?"
Wow. The further the two of you go in... whatever this whole thing is, the more you realize that... DAMN, Angel's a bit of a freak.
Not to say that you're... completely opposed, but-
"Then maybe do a better job of shutting me up then, big guy," you sneer right back, grinding down on their fingers for emphasis and wooah, was that a hint of surprise on their face?
"We don't got all the frickin' time in the world here, now do we?"
Then, Angel smirks, eyes lidded and brimming with lust, and shit, you may have miscalculated when he holds your gaze all steady-like... only to yank his fingers out with no warning.
"...Then I guess I gotta step my game up then, ¿eh, puto?" they growl, and suddenly there's a very talented tongue eating you out in a frenzy and two very talented (and, very slick) fingers pumping your equally slick dick like CRAZY-
... And if Ed returns from his break to find his two homies having their own little smoke sesh; Angel in a different shirt with hair a little more than fucked up than when he left, and Phil, his hair frizzed out, face red and glistening, and way less ornery than when he first showed up, that's like...
That's none of his business, man, no veo nada, 'n' shit.
He's happy for them, sure; those are his homies and he's been glad they finally sorted their shit out...
But like... come ON, man.
Behind the FREAKIN' clunker of all places?