When Ryan had come to that stupid kink club, he hadn't thought he would be trapped in a room with Gerard Way, Frank Iero, Mikey Way, Patrick Stump, Pete Wentz, Brendon Urie, Dallon Weekes, William Beckett, Travie McCoy, and Gabe Saporta.

Honest.

He just wanted to go to the bathroom. But this club, it was all free for all and it was already established that Ryan was just looking for a cock to suck. That's what he told Pete at the front door.

Yeah, well. He didn't think he'd get 10 of them.

The moment he enters, he fucking /knows/ something's up. Whether it be the fact that everyone is there waiting for him, or that the only stall isn't actually a /stall/.

It's a fucking box with three holes cut into the sides.

Nice.

Although, he should have known that Pete would lead him astray. Ryan /did/ ask him where the bathrooms where. And apparently this is where he was lead.

Awesome.

Pete seizes him almost as soon as he gets in while Travie grabs the door to the stall and helps Pete get him in. Ryan struggles—of course he does, it's part of the role play—but he doesn't protest when he's sent to his knees and one is already waiting for him, precum leaking from the tip and base covered in thin, untrimmed, blond hair.

He could tell it's Patrick's from mile away.

He sighs, deciding that maybe he could hold it in for a while longer and wastes no time in pressing his lips to the tip, circling the slit for a moment with his tongue, then continuing down to take it in. He sucks on the head for a moment, satisfied in the soft gasp that comes through the other side.

That's when a couple more come in, filling the other entries and Ryan doesn't even need to look before he's got one hand on each, thumbing the underside of the heads.

Travie and Gabe immediately moan out and he smirks the slightest in satisfaction.

He can do this.