Best Interest: Tyler, The Creator & Wyatt

26. Rated R

"Stupid fucking interview. I wish they'd do their fucking research before asking the same fucking questions over again."

Tyler removed his jacket as they closed the hotel door behind them. He was agitated.

"Owens promised this one wouldn't be like the rest. That shit was the exact same, fuck."

"I thought it was good." Wyatt replied.

Tyler sighed.

"Aside from the same questions..."

"Fuck, whatever. Not doing that shit again."

Tyler looked down at his phone, it was 6 pm.

Wyatt yawned.

"You tired?" Tyler asked.

"A little. It was super busy today." He walked over.

"You looked good in that audience. You stood out."

"Me? How?" Wyatt chuckled. He threw his shoes on the ground.

"Your curls," Tyler watched him from the bed.

Wyatt yawned again.

"Fuck, you should go to bed—,"

"No. You think I'm not gonna take advantage of this?"

Tyler furrowed his brows.

"We're finally alone."

Wyatt came over, getting on Tyler's bed.

"You got a point." T grinned.

Wyatt got closer, pulling him in slowly as Tyler's lips met his. It was so much softer this time—they were usually rough and so fast paced, but they had all the time in the world this time.

Tyler got on top of Wyatt, slowly kissing his jaw as he made his way back to his lips. Wyatt could feel himself get hotter by the second; cheeks were blushing uncontrollably.

They rummaged their shirts off harshly, helping each other pull them off.

Tyler pulled on Wyatt's pants, undoing his belt as they continued to kiss passionately. Wyatt rubbed on himself, Tyler moving Wyatt's hand away as he took control.

"My turn," Tyler spoke.

He kept his hand on Wyatt's chest, keeping him down as he watched Wyatt harden. He smirked, it wasn't like anything Wyatt ever experienced, and Tyler could tell by how shy and soft he was being.

Tyler turned Wyatt around, pushing him down as he moved his pants down.

T took out a condom from his wallet, ripping it open as he put it on himself.

"Relax," Tyler whispered.

He felt Tyler move inside his back end slowly. Wyatt had never experienced anything like it. It felt good, Tyler thrusting in and out as he held onto his back slowly.

Wyatt's face dug into the pillow, his hands forming fists as he bit the covers. It felt too good, but it was cut short.

T moaned harder, soon climaxing as he cursed. He pulled out, getting up and throwing the condom into the trash. Wyatt turned on his back, he was still hard.

"You didn't cum?" T asked.

Wyatt shook his head no.

"I was close..."

T smirked, pulling him in again, kissing him before grabbing Wyatt's pulsing member. Wyatt threw his head back as Tyler rubbed his hand over it faster, spitting on his hand as he jacked Wyatt off in ecstasy.