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Summary:

Luke grabs at his shirt to wrench him down, licking hungrily into Tom's mouth, and Tom has no qualms about matching his energy. He walks Luke backwards, never once breaking their connection, unsure of where he's even trying to go until Luke's back hits the nearest wall.

And then the position is perfect.

Perfect because Luke is groaning into the kiss, hands tangled in Tom's hair, and Tom has his hand under Luke's thigh, maneuvering it up just enough to wedge his own leg between Luke's and feel exactly how much-

"Pause."

Notes:

ever so loosely based on the Pablo & Cheryl timewarp, but no doubt also influenced by half the fics under this tag because y'all are writing some good stuff,,

please please don't share this anywhere outside of ao3, if the boys ever stumbled across it i'd self detonate and never foot in this town again, so help me god.

enjoy \(^-^)/

Work Text:

They're a couple beers over the line of tipsy when the three of them finally stumble over the threshold to Tom's flat. Sam had begged off early, grumbling about some early start the next morning, and headed off into the night with only a backwards middle finger to accompany their unsympathetic laughter. Somewhere along the line Tom had suggested calling it a night, which Luke and AJ had booed down in favour of following him home.

Which is how they're here. In Tom's flat. So much for calling it a night.

He toes of his shoes (because he's not a hooligan), and orders the others to do the same. Luke flicks his off, all without stopping the steady babble pouring from his mouth, whilst AJ pulls his off with a modicum of respect for Tom's home, and tidies Luke's away next to them.

"Incredible show, right?" Luke is saying as they collapse in various states across Tom's living room, "The audience loved it!"

Tom finds himself at either end of the sofa with Luke, whilst AJ gracelessly flops into the armchair squished in the corner of the room. They're all red-faced and buzzing with post show energy. It used to be like this all the time back in the early days; coming off the stage feeling on top of the world, vibrating out of their skins with excitement at the show they'd performed together, letting that high carry them long into the night.

Unfortunately, they're not getting any younger, so the adrenaline tends to wear off within an hour of finishing a show. This show though. Something about it had felt different. The audience maybe, the lighting, the- the fucking way all the scenes had come together so flawlessly. It has Tom feeling something, like there's a ball of energy trapped in his chest with nowhere to go.

"That timewarp was evil, AJ." Tom says, before his brain has even processed he's going to say anything. Luke, credit where it's due, takes the topic and runs with it.

"Yeah, what?! Since when was there "pause" in timewarp?"

AJ shrugs, an easy and relaxed grin gracing his features, "You're just jealous you didn't think of it first."

"Prick," Luke mutters, expressing his distaste by stretching his legs out and simultaneously jabbing Tom in the side. Tom finds that somewhat unfair but keeps his mouth shut, "you know I'm never the one compering that. I just get bossed around for five minutes."

"Hey! You boss us around in Genre all the time. It's like, your favourite thing to do during Genre."

Tom wishes he'd had the forethought to buy popcorn on the way back from the pub. It'd make this rare sparring match between Luke and AJ all the more entertaining. Usually Sam was here to rile one of them up, which often led to Luke and AJ forming a united alliance against Sam Bullshit™, but now...well now Tom was just here to watch this spectacular show down.

"That's not even remotely the same thing and you know it! I don't have any control over what you actually do! Not like tonight, eh? My lips are still sore." Then it's as though Luke remembers Tom's still in the room (and having his thigh needled by Luke's pointy feet) because he glances away from AJ to offer a quick, "No offence, Tom."

Tom leans back against the armrest, stretching his own legs out and nestling them into Luke's side, "None taken, I'm a damn good kisser."

Luke snorts, "Humble one too."

"I didn't make you two kiss each other," AJ protests, fighting to sit up straighter in the armchair, "you did that by yourselves!"

"The first one sure," Tom interjects, "that one was on us. But you rewound time so we'd have to do it again."

AJ flushes, as though he's just been accused of something, "For the audience, yeah," he grumbles, "and they loved it, so."

"Of course they did," Luke says smugly, "Tom and I have the best chemistry."

"You do not!"

"Romantic chemistry."

"That's fucking bollocks, mate-"

"Alright, settle down," Tom orders, lightly smacking Luke's ankle and fixing AJ with a look, "you're both pretty, stop arguing."

"Go on then, AJ," Luke goads, because he's a prick, "out of us three who do you think has the most chemistry?"

AJ settles back into his chair. "Easy— me and Tom."

"WHAT?!"

AJ shrugs, his smile now more of a smirk at Luke's indignant outrage, "What? We make a great couple." His eyes flicker over to Tom's and there's something in them that sends a spark of heat jolting down Tom's spine. He ignores it (unsuccessfully) and tunes back into what AJ's saying "-so much passion in our kisses. Kissing you is just...fine."

If Luke was outraged before, then he's absolutely livid now.

"You and Tom don't even kiss that often!"

"Sure, but when we do, it's always amazing-"

"And- hang on, what do you mean our kisses are just fine?? In what universe is dipping and kissing me so hard I see stars, just a fine kiss?!"

"I often have that effect on people."

"What, and I don't?"

AJ grins, "Dunno, man, I think you've lost your mojo."

"I'll show you my fucking mojo." Luke seethes, and, in a movement that Tom probably could've predicted if he'd had slightly fewer beers in him, Luke crosses the floor to AJ's armchair, plonks himself down in AJ's lap, and kisses the living daylights out of him.

AJ lets out a muffled noise of surprise at the sudden intrusion to both his lap and his mouth, but Luke is doing a wonderful job of keeping him quiet. And judging by the immediacy in which AJ's hand tangles in Luke's shirt collar to drag him even closer, he's not protesting the situation. Tom considers edging out of the room and leaving them to whatever this is, but then AJ's hands are moving down to grasp at Luke's ass and Luke is moaning into the kiss, and Tom decides that sitting is the best course of action. He loves sitting.

The two of them part a moment later, both looking a little dazed, and a lot more rumpled. Luke pushes himself back so he's sitting on AJ's knees, and sweeps a hand through his hair, breathing heavily. Tom doesn't miss the darkening of AJ's eyes, nor the clench of his hand.

"So," Luke says, breathlessly, "how's that for fine?"

AJ chuckles, his hands moving up from Luke's ass and settling on his hips, "Not bad, I suppose."

Luke rolls his eyes, "Better than Tom's at least?"

There's a contemplative silence as AJ thinks, gaze flicking back and forth between Luke sat across his knees, and Tom half lounging on the sofa.

"Well," he says finally, "I'll need to compare."

Luke groans, although it's difficult to tell whether it's out of annoyance, or if this unexpected game between them is affecting him already. Either way, Tom finds himself being dragged into this clusterfuck of an evening both metaphorically and literally, as Luke slides off AJ's lap and pulls Tom to his feet in one surprisingly smooth motion.

AJ clambers to his feet as well, a little unsteadily, and looking more nervous than he did a moment ago with Luke. Tom smiles easily, running a soothing hand down AJ's arm.

"Hey, we don't have to do this. Whatever...whatever this is, anyway. We can all just forget it and sleep it off." God knows that'd be the more sensible option.

AJ steels himself, expression determined. As if any of them would ever be sensible.

"Shut up and kiss me, Tom."

So Tom does.

His hands fly up of their own accord, grasping at AJ's neck and pulling them infinitely closer together. He presses a bruising kiss to AJ's lips, revelling in the shiver that rocks through the other man, and begins his attack, nibbling at skin and tightening his grip on the nape of AJ's neck.

They've kissed before, of course. All of them have. Dozens of times. Hundreds. But only ever in the context of a show. Never with this much purpose. This much intent. And the rasp of stubble against Tom's own, the panting as they practically breathe in each other's air, the knowledge that amidst all of these sensations, Tom is simultaneously tasting Luke on AJ's lips is-

It's almost too much to bear.

They break away from each other, though Tom's hands stay on AJ's neck for just a moment longer. His focus pinpoints on the high blush across AJ's cheeks, the dazed look in his eye, lips shiny with spit and reddened by teeth. Then Tom looks over AJ's shoulder to see Luke still standing there, looking equally affected despite having taken no part in it.

The pair of them make an intoxicating sight.

AJ startles out of his trance first, and it's clear this is no longer an exercise in comparison. If it ever was. He doesn't even try and come up with some flimsy excuse as to why it's Tom and Luke's turn now, he just half stumbles back to the armchair and stares up at them with stunned expectation. Tom shifts his gaze to Luke. Luke is already looking back. They stare at each other, unmoving, only a couple feet apart. Tom wonders if maybe they'll stand here forever, stuck in this limbo of tension and heated eye contact.

And then AJ whispers "Fucking please-" in a wrecked voice, and there's something about the desperation in his tone, the sheer need to see the two of them together, that has Tom and Luke crashing into each other at full force.

Luke grabs at his shirt to wrench him down, licking hungrily into Tom's mouth, and Tom has no qualms about matching his energy. He walks Luke backwards, never once breaking their connection, unsure of where he's even trying to go until Luke's back hits the nearest wall.

And then the position is perfect.

Perfect because Luke is groaning into the kiss, hands tangled in Tom's hair, and Tom has his hand under Luke's thigh, maneuvering it up just enough to wedge his own leg between Luke's and feel exactly how much-

"Pause."

They both still immediately. Almost comically quickly. They're panting heavily into each other's mouths, but Luke's hands are frozen in place on Tom's head, and Tom's leg is no longer pressing quite so urgently against Luke's crotch.

Tom looks behind him at AJ who's still sat in the armchair. There's a wild look in AJ's eyes, but it's half masked by a thin veil of control. Ah. AJ wants to lead. And Tom is happy to let him.

It's quite a drastic change to the flushed and embarrassed AJ of only a few minutes ago. But this one, eyes darkened with lust and hands clenched with want, is a perfectly acceptable replacement.

Luke, uncharacteristically quiet, swallows hard. It's clear he's cottoned onto the situation, and is making no move to change the course of the evening. His hand in Tom's hair tightens subconsciously, and Tom's eyes flutter shut at the sensation. God.

"Rewind," AJ says, not coldly, but with an unexpected level of command, "one minute ago."

Luke whimpers as Tom extracts his leg and slowly lets go of Luke's thigh. And then the fingers gripping Tom's hair vanish and he tries not to mourn their loss. He shuffles back, almost instinctively, and Luke follows slowly, as though AJ is a viper ready to pounce on any misstep they make. Hell, maybe he is.

The pair of them end up back in their original position in the middle of the room, although much more flustered. Tom's shirt is rumpled at the collar where Luke grabbed it during their initial kiss, and Luke's lips are as red as his cheeks. AJ watches them calculatingly, eyes sharp and his posture sharper. The energy in the room is positively electric.

"Fast forward...to Luke sitting on the sofa."

Luke hesitates for a split second, perhaps trying to second guess where AJ plans on taking the night, but follows the order nonetheless. He arranges himself in the middle of the sofa, a little self-conscious perhaps, but the bulge in his jeans signals his enjoyment well enough. Tom licks his lips, not even realising he's done so until AJ laughs, low and menacing.

"Thirsty, Tom?"

He finds himself nodding maybe a tad too enthusiastically.

AJ nods towards the gap between Luke's legs, "Kneel." And then, in a softer tone, to Luke, "Put a cushion down, would you?"

Luke does so, plumping it up before tossing it onto the floor in front of him. Tom swallows thickly, edges towards the cushion, and then  drops to his knees on top of it.

"Good." AJ murmurs, and the word tingles deliciously up Tom's spine. "Now, you two are going to play out this scene however you choose. But. When I say 'pause', you pause. If not, there'll be consequences. Understand?"

Luke nods, wideyed, and Tom thinks he must look exactly the same. Completely stunned by this unusual display of control, and completely turned on by it.

"Use your words, please."

"Yes, AJ." They whisper, practically in unison.

"Good," AJ says again, and gosh isn't Tom discovering things about himself today, "Play."

Tom finds himself somewhat adrift at the abrupt return of his freewill. Luke seems to be in the same boat, eyes glassy as he tries to pull himself back into a more controlled headspace. Tom takes a moment to ground himself, sliding his hands up Luke's legs to use an anchor, suddenly extremely aware of AJ's eyes on them from only a few feet away. He looks up properly and meets Luke's gaze. It's more focused now, more determined. AJ wants a show. They'll be damned if they don't give him one.

Luke makes the first move, cupping a hand under Tom's chin and leaning down to kiss him. It's gentle. Reassuring. And there's something about Luke looming over him in this manner that has heat curling delightfully down Tom's body.

As they kiss, the hand under Tom's chin shifts, and trails it's way towards his hair once more. The kissing manages to distract Tom sufficiently enough that he doesn't notice it's there until Luke jerks his head back, hand tight in his hair, exposing the thin column of Tom's neck to the rest of the room and, more importantly, to AJ.

Tom can't see AJ from his position on the floor, but he's sure he can imagine the reaction well enough.

Lips distract him from his thoughts. Luke teases his way down the length of Tom's throat, a careful dance of teeth and tongue that decorate that pale expanse of skin, and turn it into a patchwork of colour. Tom groans, caught between the dual sensations of Luke tugging his hair to keep him steady and kissing his way down his neck. Subconsciously he tries to seek out some friction to ease the ache between his legs, rocking against the cushion he'd been given.

"Pause."

The attack on Tom's neck stops, and so do Tom's little aborted movements against the cushion.

"You're not allowed to grind against the cushion, Tom." AJ says, and Tom can't tell which of him and Luke moans louder. He can feel Luke's moan against his throat though, and it's almost enough to have him disregarding AJ's rule, and riding that cushion til kingdom come. Or until he comes. One or the other.

"Understood?"

"Yes, AJ."

"Play."

Tom tries to keep himself still once Luke's assault on his neck continues, distracting himself from the ache of his dick by digging his fingers into Luke's denim covered thighs. Luke groans again and redirects back to Tom's mouth.

They kiss. It's sloppy and hardly a kiss at all as they breathe heavily, ridiculously turned on from what has so far amounted to a mild power trip from AJ, and an extended make out session. Tom decides he can be embarrassed about how turned on he is later. Much later. After several orgasms preferably.

"Luke," he murmurs, as the nibbling on his neck returns, "Luke." And then Luke comes up for air again, beautifully flushed and panting. Tom edges his fingers towards Luke's belt in a desperate attempt to explain himself, his two English degrees having abandoned him completely.

Luckily Luke's been tuned into non-verbal clues from Tom (and the others) for the best part of a decade, and is all too eager to get this show on the road. He undoes the belt, going so far as to tug it from the loops and chuck into the corner of the room, and then unbuttons his jeans. Tom shuffles back to give him enough space to get them down.

"Pause," AJ says, when they're halfway down his thighs, "leave them like that."

To Tom he says, "Get his dick out."

Tom swallows thickly and edges closer to Luke once more. He meets Luke's eyes, double checking that it's fine. Luke nods confidently, and with a little smile that has Tom returning it instantly.

It's not easy fishing Luke out of his jeans— the angle isn't great and his boxers pose a minor challenge, but Tom manages it. And once he gets his hand on Luke's cock, the skin hot under his palm, and brings it out, the groan that's pulled from Luke will probably ring in his ears for the next month. There's some precum dribbling from the tip, making the flushed head shiny, but it's not enough to smooth Tom's way if he were to give Luke a handjob. Although, based on what AJ had said earlier, a handjob wasn't the direction this was going.

AJ confirms that a moment later with the whispered command, "Get him wet, Tom," and Tom wastes no time.

He touches his tongue to the head somewhat hesitantly, testing the waters as it were. And then boldly licks a stripe up the length of it. Luke whines at that, clutching at Tom's hair once more, and Tom can't help the whine of his own.

Finally, he opens his mouth and takes Luke inside. And, God, he's never felt so full. Never felt so many sensations. The weight of Luke's cock on his tongue, the feeling of his lips wrapped around it, the precum sliding down his throat, and the fingers tugging through his hair. His own fingers cover what his mouth can't reach; Luke's precum and Tom's own spit providing a bit of lubrication.

He bobs his head a few times, searching for a rhythm. Luke is moaning consistently now, just barely stopping himself from shoving his cock the rest of the way down Tom's throat. Not that he needs to hold back that urge for long. Tom slides further down his dick, tears pricking his eyes at the total and incredible fullness. He holds himself there for a second, testing his limits cautiously, then pulls back a little. Not off entirely, but gives himself a reprive to breathe a little more easily. The taste of Luke on his tongue is addictive though, and the urge to chase that taste until he's swallowed Luke down to the root is strong.

"Pause."

They cry out in unison, Luke at the loss of consistent friction, and Tom at the desire to keep going forever and ever. His tongue traces a vein that runs along the underside of Luke's dick, and Luke's thighs shake in an effort to keep himself still. To keep himself paused.

"Tom," AJ says, tone more dangerous this time, "I said 'pause'."

Tom can't help the whimper that escapes him, which in turn has the hand fisted in his hair tightening. There's so much sensation, so much feeling, and he doesn't want to pause. Not when he's learning how to make Luke fall apart under him. A new way to take down his friends with his sharp tongue.

The hand on his head vanishes suddenly, but is soon replaced by a new one. AJ's.

Tom hadn't noticed AJ leave the armchair, but now it's impossible to be unaware of the man looming over him. The significant bulge in his jeans, fingers curled tight in Tom's hair, expression hidden from Tom at this angle.

"I said 'pause'," AJ whispers, and Tom shivers, although whether it's excitement or nervousness is unclear even to himself. AJ's grip on his head is firm, immovable, and Tom wants to cry, beg, plead for forgiveness.

And then AJ looks to Luke and says, "Play."

So they play.

AJ holds Tom's head steady whilst Luke fucks into his mouth. It's a little hard for Luke to get the angle right to thrust properly, but he tries his best, and every movement is accompanied by murmured praise from AJ. And Tom just has to kneel there and take it. Held still in AJ's firm grasp, whilst Luke slides back and forth between his lips, stuttering moans as he nears his peak.

But then AJ is pulling Tom's head away and letting Luke slip from his mouth. Luke groans in frustration at the loss, and despite the control AJ has been displaying since this started, Tom can tell from the way the fingers clench in his hair that he's equally affected.

AJ manhandles Tom so that he's mere inches from Luke's dick. Barely a space between them.

"Pause." He says. And they do. AJ steps back to admire his handiwork.

"Look you at two," and he sounds almost breathless with wonder, "so still. So perfect." The easy praise has Tom's eyes almost rolling into the back of his head.

"You want this so much, don't you?"

There's a whine from one of them, but Tom's too far gone to know which of them made it.

"Look at Luke's cock, Tom, look how hard he is for you." Tom tries to refocus, and his attention his caught on a bead of precum rolling down the side of Luke's dick. He fights the urge to chase it down. To lap at that perfect head and trace every vein until he knows it like the back of his hand. AJ reaches over and lightly trails his nail along the length of it, scooping up the bead of precum as he does. It's the first time he's touched Luke since their initial kiss.

Luke grips the sofa, desperately trying to keep himself from bucking into the touch, and AJ chuckles at the attempt.

"You're trying so hard to please me, aren't you? So good for me." He takes his finger away and tilts Luke's chin up with the other hand, pressing a soft, almost loving, kiss to his lips.

"And you," he says, turning to address Tom, "you want his cock so badly, don't you? So much you're salivating for it."

And then he slides his finger into Tom's mouth, allowing him to taste Luke from AJ's skin. Tom groans around the digit, sucking and swirling his tongue, until spit is near dripping from his chin and AJ's finger is soaked. AJ steps away and nudges Tom back into his position inches from Luke's dick. Both of their eyes are locked on him. Neither daring to breathe.

"Play," he murmurs, and it's like a gun has gone off.

Tom shoves himself back down Luke's dick within seconds and Luke cries out at the sudden onslaught, grabbing at Tom's head and tugging him closer. It's messy, and wet, and any technique Tom may have had has fallen on the wayside, but it doesn't matter when all Luke needs from him is tongue and friction.

Luke reaches his peak quite quickly after that, half-heartedly shoving at Tom to avoid coming down his throat. But Tom shakes his head as best he can. Nothing is dragging him away from Luke's cock right now, not when he's on the verge of finishing. Tom does something with his tongue that he doesn't think for a moment he'll ever be able to replicate, and it has Luke tensing up, eyes shut tight, and then he's exploding within Tom's mouth.

The sight of Luke coming completely undone is intoxicating, and Tom's close to coming in his damn pants, grinding against the cushion once more. He swallows what he can, although some slips through the seam of his lips and trickles back down Luke's cock. After a moment or two, Luke's brain seems to come back online and he pushes Tom's head away gently, freeing himself from the overstimulation.

Tom leans his forehead against the sofa, panting heavily, humping against the cushion almost subconsciously at this point.

He's aware of AJ's presence next to him, a quiet conversation that his ears can't quite focus on, and then a soothing hand running down his back. He lifts his head and meets AJ's gaze.

"Alright, Tom?" He asks, question genuine, even if his persona is still in place.

Tom whines, unable to even conjure up the words for a response. He can't stay still now, pressing a hand to his aching dick and palming it urgently. AJ gets a hand around his arm and pulls Tom to his feet. He feels shaky as he stands, half-propped up by the solid mass of AJ's chest.

"You've been so good for me tonight." AJ says, "so good, Tom. You deserve a reward, don't you think?"

Tom nods. Or at least he thinks he does. It's hard to tell with all the blood in his brain having moved south about 20 minutes ago. But then AJ is walking backwards towards the armchair once more, dragging Tom along with him, and he decides that thinking is overrated anyway.

AJ sits down, and despite the fact that Tom is standing, it still feels as though AJ is towering over him. He's snared Tom's attention entirely.

AJ pulls Tom towards him, helping him settle onto AJ's lap, a muscular thigh pressed between his legs. The firm pressure catches him by surprise, and he groans at the sensation of his dick getting the most direct contact it's had all night.

"I noticed you liked your cushion, Tom."

It takes him a second to understand what AJ means, but when he realises, Tom can't help the flush that seems to spread throughout his whole body. AJ chuckles, stroking a finger over the covered bulge before him, eyes darkening when Tom's eyelids flutter at the light touch.

"I want you to get yourself off," AJ murmurs lowly, finger still lightly tracing over Tom's tight trousers, "in my lap. Against my thigh." Tom whimpers, caught between feeling demeaned by the act, and wanting to get started immediately, and AJ shushes him.

"I know you can do it. You can come in your pants just like this, can't you?" He glances over Tom's shoulder at the sofa, "And I think Luke wants to watch it happen."

Tom twists his head to see Luke sprawled across the sofa, trousers still unbuttoned, eyes wide, and looking completely debauched. He swallows and turns his head back to AJ. Nods.

"Words please."

Tom swallows again.

"I-" his voice sounds rough, the words forming strangely in his mouth, "I- please. Please, AJ, let me- let me grind on you. I can get myself off, I promise! Just let me- I need-" his words trail off, overcome by the need to just show AJ what he can do.

Maybe there's something in his expression, or the way he's already started subtly rocking down on the thigh pressed up against his cock, but AJ grabs Tom's head between his hands and pulls him into a bruising kiss. It punches a sound out of the pair of them; one that echoes around the room and has Luke cursing behind them.

Tom surrenders to the kiss, allowing AJ to claim his mouth as though it was for AJ's use alone. He likes that thought maybe a little too much. It's a complete dynamic shift to their kiss earlier in the evening; when Tom had tasted power directly from AJ's pliant mouth. He's hardly unhappy with the direction the evening has gone though. Quite the opposite.

"Good boy." AJ breathes when they separate, the words escaping almost unbidden from between kiss-bitten lips, and Tom nearly shakes apart in AJ's lap right there.

He doesn't though. Instead he does the next best thing and grinds down as purposefully as he can against AJ's thigh, relishing in the muffled friction of his cock against fabric. It's a delectable feeling, and one he wants to chase endlessly. So he does.

He grinds again, and again, increasing the intensity on every downwards roll of his hips. AJ's hands slip to his waist to keep him steady, grasp firm, and that's all the permission Tom needs to speed up.

It shouldn't be such a turn on to him. The pressure he's getting shouldn't be enough to get him this hard. But he can feel how much he's straining in his boxers, through his jeans, and it's a fucking wonderful combination of too much and not nearly enough.

He's whining too, as every thrust against AJ's thigh has a stream of whimpers and moans leaking from his lips unprompted. And AJ's untucked Tom's shirt to rub at the skin of his hips, little sweeping circles of encouragement that only serve to drive Tom further into a frenzy.

"Come on, Tom," AJ is muttering, eyes glued to the scene before him, "you can do it. That's it, good boy. Hump my leg."

That particular comment has Tom crying out, rolling his hips down hard against the thick muscle, pleasure shooting up his spine and his cock at the delicious friction. His head feels simultaneously completely devoid of thought, and full to bursting.

"Yeah?" AJ pants, hand straying from Tom's hip to his own belt buckle, "You like that? You like rutting against my leg like a good boy?" He gets his belt undone but doesn't bother shoving his trousers down much, just pulls himself out from his pants, "You like being good for me? So perfect, so pretty."

Tom sobs. His muscles are burning trying to keep up a steady pace, cock crying out for more. AJ holds his hand up to Tom's mouth expectantly and Tom spits into it without even being told to. AJ takes himself in hand, wetting his dick with the spit, and pumping it a few times. It has to be on the edge of painful, but AJ doesn't seem to give a shit based on the groan that's punched out of him.

The sight of AJ finally taking his pleasure, after an evening of teasing and ordering him and Luke around, has Tom redoubling his efforts. He grinds harder, shifting positions slightly so that his hands are on AJ's shoulders, and the tip of his dick is pressed firmly against AJ's thigh. He rocks and humps and fucking ruts, and then AJ is whispering "Good boy, ride me. Just like that. Come for me." And Tom flies over the edge.

A moment later, there's a splatter of come across the bottom of his shirt, as AJ finally let's go with a long drawn out moan. Tom's boxers are sticky, his jeans feel horrifically tight across his now sensitive dick, and the rest of him is a sweaty mess.

It's fucking fantastic.

Silence descends over the room as the pair of them catch their breath. Tom's distantly aware that Luke also seems to be breathing hard, and the idea that it's purely in response to watching them almost has his dick gearing up for round two. Almost. Collectively, they try to regain control over their heart rates and lungs. Then:

"Rewind, thirty seconds ago."

And just like that, the spell is broken. Luke bursts into cackling laughter, the kind that usually accompanies them on stage, and Tom slumps over in disappointment against AJ's chest.

"Not funny, AJ," he complains into the other man's shirt, "I don't think I'm gonna be able to feel my dick for a week."

"That's because you're old." Luke says from behind him, and yeah, it seems like despite sharing the most mind-blowing orgasms of their lives, nothing has really changed. Luke is still a twat, for one.

Tom sits up, grimacing at the now drying come sticking to him. AJ laughs at his expression, and encourages Tom off his lap, keeping him steady as they both stand up.

"Regretting keeping your jeans on now?" He asks, eyeing up Tom's crotch. Tom shoots him a withering look and steps back towards the middle of the room.

"Regretting the clean up. Not regretting anything else."

He says it casually, but the message behind his words is clear. He isn't about to go running for the hills due to what they've done together. And based on how Luke pulls himself up from the sofa and curls his arms around Tom's waist, forehead pressed against his back, he doesn't think the other two are either.

He leans against Luke for a moment and closes his eyes, letting the excitement of the evening wash away with the steadying thump of Luke's heartbeat. Then he pulls a face.

"Ok, this feels fucking horrible, I'm taking these off."

Luke loosens his hold on Tom's waist, allowing him to unbuckle his jeans. He pulls them off and leaves them in a heap on the floor. When he glances up, AJ's eyes are locked on his boxers. His light grey, with a very obvious wet patch, boxers.

"Um-" AJ clears his throat, "how long did you say you wouldn't be able to use your dick?"

Luke snickers from behind Tom, arms wrapping back around his waist now that the jeans are off. Tom scoffs, an incredulous eyebrow raised in AJ's direction.

"You're ridiculous."

One of Luke's fingers lightly teases at the waistband of Tom's pants. And then ever so slowly, slides over the length of his fabric covered cock.

Tom groans, thumping the back of his head against Luke's shoulder.

"Fucking- bedroom, now. Let's go."

And go they do.