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The bedroom is filled with the sound of Rick’s panting and the slick slide of his hand on his own cock. This right here is the moment that Shane ought to close the door and pretend he never saw a thing. The last thing any guy needs is to see his best friend mid-masturbation.
But he can’t stop staring.
Rick’s hips are raised from the bed, his hand beneath himself to jerk himself off, but his other hand - his other hand has reached behind, fingers pressing into his own body. Shane can see how he’s shoved two fingers inside as deep as he can reach, stretching himself wide, his ass facing Shane like it’s a goddamn gift.
Rick’s eyes are snapped wide open, staring at Shane like he’s been caught doing something far worse than whacking off, and Shane really does have to turn around and walk out like he never saw a thing. Except -
Except here he is, stepping closer to the bed, until he’s close enough to sit down on the edge. Rick breathes his name like a question and a warning, but Shane shakes his head. He pulls on Rick’s wrist to pull him out of the way and then slides his own fingers inside - it’s easy, so easy, the way already slick.
Rick groans and drops his head down against the pillow. His face is flushed bright red and stained with sweat; the only time Shane has seen him like this before is when they’re on the run from walkers. It’s much hotter in this context. He flexes his fingers, drawing them far out and then playing with his rim, teasing the puckered flesh with the very tips of his fingers.
It isn’t long before he’s aching and hard inside his jeans, because there isn’t a sight in the world hotter than Rick like this. He’s completely undone, gasping for air like he’s forgotten how to breathe and pushing himself back onto Shane’s fingers, desperate for more. It’s utter abandonment, completely unashamed. Makes it hard not to hold him down and shove inside him, give him just what he’s begging for.
Shane clenches his teeth together and pushes his fingers in hard and fast, catching inside him and rubbing in a way that makes Rick cry out, as sudden and sharp as if he’s been struck. Rick’s hand jerks frantically on his cock, precum dripping down onto the sheets. Shane swallows at the sight, grabbing hold of himself through his jeans even as he keeps fingering Rick, keeps watching his best friend coming apart on his fingers.
Rick says his name right before he comes, wheezing it out like he’s trying to make it mean something. Hell if Shane knows what he’s trying to say. The second Rick has spilled onto the bed, Shane rips his fingers from his ass and reaches into his jeans - wraps his hand around his cock and squeezes tight while Rick is still collapsed on the bed, struggling for breath. All it takes is a few quick strokes, staring at the flushed perfection of Rick’s bare body, before Shane is left biting down on his lower lip as he comes inside his pants, jizzing himself like he hasn’t since he first hit puberty.
“Fuck,” Rick pants, chuckling to himself like this is all some great cosmic joke.
Someone up there has one hell of a sense of humour, that’s for sure.