[Another whimper, louder than before. He seems to catch himself - seems to realize how loud even that was, because he flushes very dark, squirming beneath Rye's weight]

[For a long few endless seconds, he just rubs restlessly up against Rye, legs instinctively spreading wider for better friction]

[He wants Rye's mouth - wants that tight, wet heat - but it's almost too good, certainly not something he can keep quiet through. The thought of walking through the game tower still hard and aching makes him flush with humiliation - but if he picks neither, then he'll finish right here, in his underwear, and the wet spot will provide an even more obvious sign of what they've been up to]

[Finally, voice decidedly breathless (and hips still shifting restlessly to seek more friction):]

We... we should get outta here.