(no subject)
Title: Birthday(part 3)
Author: MochaBlitz
Pairing: Billie/Mike/Tré
Rating: nc-17
Disclaimer: Seriously... no
Notes: I'm surprised I'm still trying to finish this... After this I need to finish that second part to the rape story xD
( Part 1)
( Part 2)
"Guys," Mike whined as he reached out to pull at least one of the two band mates down to him, but failed terribly as Billie easily stepped away, with Tré still held hostage in his tattooed arms. Mike kept complaining, "I don't need any more, you wore me out enough for tonight... Can't we go to sleep now?"
Billie chuckled, amused at the bassist's attempts at reasoning. "It's only nine thirty Mike, there's still plenty of moonlight to burn..."
"My birthday ends after the blow job, Billie. Now, let's get up stairs-"
"In that case, you can just sit there and watch," Billie snapped, "me and Tré can have all the fun we want without you." Without another word, he shut the bassist completely out of his mind as he eyed Tré once again. The desire grew in the depths of his green orbs as his expression started to twist. His teeth flashed a suggestive grin at the, somehow, shorter man before his hands started to wander. Tré, though sending nervous glaces here and there at the man watching from the couch, sighed at the feeling of the sensual touches; leaning in against each finger as they crawled up his back and around his neck, only to come back down his front.
Without any warning, Billie's fingers scratched painfully down the drummer's chest, earning a small welcomed cry of approval as he continued down, grabbing the impressively growing erection jutting out against the material of his pants in his hand. Tré had to bite his lips together in an attempt to keep any other noises at bay in the back of his throat, but it was near impossible with the ways the singer was able to manipulate his all to sensitive body. Years of doing this had given Billie quite a cheat sheet on how to bring the other man to his knees.
As Billie's nail scratched teasingly over the zipper, the other came up to twist itself into Tré's already tangled, from the treatment he got minutes ago, copper hair. He pulled his face up and licked the corner of his cum stained, swollen lips. Still tasting Mike's flavor on him, Billie's grip around Tré's cock tightened.
The action must of broken some nervous shell that had previously surrounded him, because right then, Tré lunged forward and smashed his lips to Billie's. His tongue shoved its way past the singer's lips, frantically seeking out the other's tongue as his arms found themselves around the man's small waist. As their tongues made contact, both men moaned into each other's throats; Billie's immediately afterwards darted into the drummer's in an effort for more of his desired flavors, while Tré continued to shamelessly whimper inside his. Tré could already feel himself coming close to the edge of a powerful orgasm.
"You taste like a fucking whore," Billie growled with his tongue still partly inside Tré's mouth, lapping at the roof as he felt a sudden pressure on his concealed boner. He moaned excessively as his nails burrowed themselves into Tré's scalp. It was becoming increasingly harder to stand up, as his legs threatened to give out any moment. Obviously, the shoe had been, very quickly, placed on the other foot.
"Maybe it's because I'm kissin' one," Tré half moaned, half hissed in pain, as he rocked himself against Billie's hand, rubbing it back against the man's own crotch. Sharing the pleasure between them.
Behind Billie's closed lids, his eyes rolled into the back of his skull as he thrust against the top of his own hand, still managing to continue his rough treatment on Tré's cock. Neither of them had the worst track records in the world when it came to how quickly they could cum and, right now being no exception, they were on the brink of soiling their boxers on the spot. And their pants haven't even been pulled off yet.
With much struggling, Trés body was suddenly yanked out of the tangle that was Billie's arms. The singer's eyes flew open in absolute rage, meeting with the sight of his precious drummer being held in the powerful arms of a naked Mike. His face flared up as he pulled the man back into his possession. Billie's arms wrapped around his waist, bringing his back against his chest as he took a single step away, like a dog trying to keep a toy all to itself.
"The fuck you think you're doing, Pritchard?" He asked with a fierce glare, "I thought you were to worn out for this?"
"Fuck that, blame your God damn whorish moaning," Mike retorted as he grabbed Tré again, but wasn't as successful as Billie was in pulling him back.
"Aw, ain't that cute, he wants his birthday present back." Billie taunted, cooing the words as if speaking to a wedded lover, soon attaching his mouth to the drummer's neck and giving it the same affections he had given Mike earlier; biting and sucking the skin with his sharp canines and an animistic growl. If it was possible, without a doubt, the bassist's face would be green with envy by now. Those lips belonged solely on his neck only, and that body should be pressed to his chest now, preferably under him. Not Billie's.
This time as Mike tried again, a certain fire burning in his eyes, Billie didn't move away; just sneered playfully at him while the drummer struggled without any success to break free and get away from the approaching man.
Just to amuse himself, Billie continued asking questions, "I thought your birthday ended after the blow job, isn't that what you said Michael?"
Mike scoffed as his hands were placed on either side of Tré's face. The spastic man's struggling stopped as his face was slowly brought forward, "This is my after party."
Their lips connected with a rough collision, ending in a mind melting kiss as Mike's body moved forward, closing the distance of the last remaining steps. Tré gasped suddenly at the presence that could be felt between his legs. Waking up from the other world the kiss had thrown him into, his eyes snapped down to see the other's newest hard-on pressing against his clothed thigh.
Billie reacted before the drummer had the chance to.
"Looks like we've woken up Mike Jr." He laughed into his ear, "How do you suggest we get him to sleep again?"
Tré drew in a shaky breath, feeling Mike slowly starting to grind against his restrained body as their lips separated, though hardly even an inch, "G--get him back into bed," he started as the struggle started up again, wanting desperately to hold the other's throbbing cock once again.
"It's gonna take more than that," Billie whispered to the shell of his ear, biting once again. Tré found himself unable to speak, caught between the nibbling teeth and bucking hips, it was to much to take in at once. He was frozen.
"I guess you'll have to improvise..." Mike's words brought Billie forward, sandwiching him tightly between his two band mates as they started to kiss over his shoulder, the loud sound of slipping tongues and wet lips sounding right beside his ear. He was starting to feel forgotten between the two men, until Mike turned his attention back on him, and started to kiss him as well.
"Can we go upstairs now?" Mike panted against the drummer's lips, his voice thick with need. He could feel Billie laugh against the back of his neck, before he nodded. Without another word, Billie released him, and Mike pulled him into his arms, briefly nuzzling his face into his sweaty hair; a happy smile on his face.
Tré was dragged eagerly up the stairs by his naked friend, with Billie trailing behind them, the ever present smirk present once again on his face.
They reached Mike's room, and Tré was handed off to Billie. The drummer could tell just by looking into the taller man's darkening eyes, that whatever he was planning to ensue behind those closed doors, would surely leave him with bruises by morning. Intentional or otherwise.