Erotic short. Harrison is teasing Don, and Don can’t take it even before Mead joins in.
1k, rated E, cis M/M/M. Don Howard, Victor Mead, and Sam Harrison — orgasm denial, D/s, teasing, a little bit of crying, frustration, begging, but all in good fun!
It was a hot night, arid and dry but somehow very heavy, the weight of it thick and inescapable on Don’s naked skin. He had one arm wrapped around Harrison, his fingers stretched over his throat and pressing on the flesh, his head bowed and his forehead pressed into the upper part of shoulder.
Harrison laughed, low and dirty, when Don let out a noise. “Does tha like that?”
“I’d like it if you didn’t keep — ah — stopping,” grunted Don — Harrison’s hand was slick and warm, wrapped around Don’s cock as it was, hand gripping him tightly. He pulled and tugged, sending thrills down Don’s cock, his sac drawn up tight, and he drew in a sharp breath as the tension built up higher, a tension pulling through the whole of his body, and —
Harrison stopped tugging and squeezed hard at the base of Don’s cock, thumb pressing hard against the underside and making him cry out sharply in frustration: it almost ached, his balls feeling swollen and tight, and he sobbed out a noise against Harrison’s upper back, his fingers gripping tight into his shoulders on the other side.
His whole body was drenched in sweat that had almost nothing to do with the actual heat, and when his other hand went down to grip at himself Mead’s hand whipped out, enclosed his wrist, and pulled it over his head.
“Where the fuck did you come from?” demanded Don, and immediately regretted it — he was so frustrated he felt as though he’d pop, feeling wound tight as anything, but that didn’t make Mead’s eyes widen less, his lip curl less, make less rage radiate out of him like heat.
“I beg your pardon, sir?” asked Mead in low, dangerous tones, and on Don’s other side, Harrison was laughing.
“The fuck did tha just say to our Mead?” asked Harrison, and Don swallowed hard, staring at Mead’s face and trying not to let his lips quiver, trying not to flinch away.
“I — Sorry, Mead,” said Don breathlessly, and his hand had gone loose on Harrison now, he was sitting up straight instead of leaning right into his body, his hand held uncomfortably tall over his head. Mead gripped his wrist higher, and to keep from feeling his arm pulled in his socket Don let himself be pulled to his feet, staring into Mead’s furious face.
He didn’t ordinarily see Mead angry, least of all angry at him, angry at Don — Mead got frustrated at times, got irritable, but right now there was the sort of fury shining in his eyes that Don ordinarily only saw when someone was actually, really rude to him.
“How long have you been teasing him?” asked Mead, pulling up, and Don let out a gasping sound, lifting himself up almost on his tip-toes to keep from Mead actually pulling his arm in his socket.
“Can’t be that long,” said Harrison. “Not longer’n an hour.”
“I’m sorry,” said Don.
“Are you, sir?” asked Mead coolly, his eyes boring holes through Don’s head, through his body, through his soul; with the hand not pulling on Don’s wrist wrapping around his cock instead, and Don actually sobbed, actually let out a wet noise and felt tears on his cheeks.
“Please, Vic, please, I am sorry, I’d never have — ”
Mead’s lips were on his, Mead kissing him in that sweet and all-encompassing way he did, strong and commanding and very, very there, not too wet, not sloppy, not biting, just — Firm. Firm pressure, strength of presence, and the hand around his cock was —
“No!” Don cried out, and Mead grabbed both of his wrists at once this time, suddenly shoving him backward and against the wall beside Don’s bed, one big, strong hand keeping his wrists together, his hands against the wall. “Vic, please, please, Sam’s already been torturing me — ”
“I’ve not begun to torture thee, lad,” said Harrison, and Mead gripped tighter, the pressure making a little pain burn in his wrists, his tendons, Mead pulling up at the same time so he felt utterly suspended in place, and he couldn’t even breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do a thing —
Mead ground his waist against Don’s, thigh sliding up between his legs, and Don almost howled but Mead clapped his hand over Don’s mouth to keep him from letting out too loud a noise. Don gasped against it, opened and closed his mouth against Mead’s palm.
“Tell me why I should allow you to come at all,” said Mead quietly. “Tell me, sir, what you’ve done to deserve it.”
“Maybe I want to let the lad come,” said Harrison. “Did tha think of that, Victor?”
“Maybe I want to punt you through a window, Mr Harrison,” said Mead, so coldly that Don’s cock actually gave a hard twitch, and wouldn’t that be mad, if he came just over Mead being petty to Sam Harrison over not letting Don have an orgasm? “It doesn’t mean I’ll do so.”
“Please,” whispered Don when Mead leaned slightly back from him. “Is that — Is that enough? For me to deserve it? For me to ask you for it, and say — say I’d really rather like it?”
“No,” said Mead, arching an eyebrow. “No, it really isn’t.”
“Lad have to earn it, does he?” asked Harrison.
“Yes, Harrison, I think so.”
“Wonder how he might do that,” mused Harrison aloud, and when Mead let his hands go Don immediately put them on his big barrel chest, leaned into him, begged silently for another kiss that didn’t come right away.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Mead softly.
“My cock hurts,” complained Don. “If you don’t let me come, Vic, my testicles may very well explode.”
“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” asked Mead, and Don’s cheeks burned, his whole body feeling even hotter than before.
“Oh, good lord,” he almost whimpered, and Mead caught him by the cheek and pulled him into a kiss, turning him around so that Harrison could come up behind him, wrap his arms around Don’s waist and squeeze. “If you two kill me with this, you’ll hang.”
“Mead’s already hung,” whispered Harrison in his head, and Don couldn’t help it, started laughing, though the laugh tapered into a moan as Harrison nipped at the lobe of his head and Mead started sucking a mark into the base of his neck.
“Please — ”
“Not yet,” rumbled Mead, and Don closed his eyes tightly and gave himself over to it.
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