Don't Beg
A'Jes' Blue

Oliver softly nibbled his way down his lover's prone form. Giving gentle kisses, licks and nibbles from the silky skin on his throat to the taut pebbles of nipples to the soft, smooth expanse of naked stomach. Muscles rippled and quivered at his every gentle caress and touch. His lover's moans and whimpers spurred him to tease with ever-gentler whispers of touch. Moving his fingers in spirals mimicking his tongue’s motion, he stopped and gently blew cool air over the spit-wet expanse of skin. His lover cried at the new sensation, head thrashing.

Percy was whimpering now, straining against the bonds that kept his hands above his head, and legs so nicely splayed. Oliver settled in the hollow between his lover's legs and brushed the backs of his hands up the insides of his legs, from calf to thigh moving over the top and flicking his finger nail edges against the sensitive flesh at the crease between thigh and body. His love's cries became hoarser as he was kept on edge.

Ignoring the straining, reaching, begging flesh of his lover’s cock, he concentrated instead on making love to skin. Such beautiful, pale skin. He hovered over the form on the bed trailing fingertips down the shuddering chest, and splaying his fingers he moved to stroke teasingly over the sensitive sides of his body. Feather-light, he flicked his tongue to taste the lightly perspiring body, tongue following the indentation between each rib to the smooth softness of his side. Ministering gently with his mouth, avoiding the small puddle of pre-come, and the shaking cock, he teased the silky, pale hair on his partner's belly instead, pulling it gently with his teeth. Lipping it, sucking at it, wetting it down in swirls with broad swipes of his tongue. Blowing gently and watching as the flesh contracted into little bumps.

Percy sobbed under his touch, at the edge of begging. His head thrashed, and hands clenched convulsively. So so so pretty. His chest was heaving with his deep breathing as he fought for control, control to not come, control to not beg for it. Oliver trembled himself, wanting to keep his lover on the edge, but also wanting the completion. Such beautiful power. His lover was squirming with the need to be touched, stroked, invaded. But he kept himself from begging by biting his lips until they bled and clenching his teeth. It was the game. Their beautiful little game.

It started as it always did. Oliver had found Percy with his head stuck in a book as usual. The teasing began with a languid game of footsie under the table in the library. First, he'd run his toes gently up Percy's instep, stroked the ankles, and up the calf. Long minutes later, after he'd tired of that, he allowed his toes to make brief contact with Percy's growing erection, before moving away to tease another part, knees, thighs, ankles, feet. Slow strokes. Just gently rubbing his bare feet over Percy's legs. Oliver watched, from beneath his lowered brows pretending to read his History of Magic text, the flush of arousal creep upward, staining Percy’s pale, freckled skin a beautiful, delicate pink. For what seemed like hours Percy had held him off, only the slight tremble in his hands belied his ‘concentration’ on the book spread in front of him. Throughout, Percy never looked at Oliver or acknowledged his existence in any way. When he finally rose from the table Oliver noticed he clutched the table edge as he tried to get his legs steady under him. He left the library without a backward glance, knowing Oliver would follow. It was like he held an invisible leash. Oliver would always follow. Whenever. Wherever. For whatever. Percy held his heart in those delicate, long-fingered hands (stroking, powerful, sweet, soft, hands).

Both were primed and ready for the game. Their game was everything. Don’t beg. Whatever you do, *don’t* - *beg.*

The musky scent of his lover's need pulled him back to the present, back to the bed and the form laid out on it. Just sitting there, kissing his body, smelling his musk, tasting his desire, hearing his moans almost threw Oliver over into orgasm, but he pushed the feeling away, wanting to make this for Percy, all about Percy. Wanting to see him fly apart- wanting to see him shatter into a million bright shards. Wanting to keep control.

Gently, Oliver stroked the inside of Percy’s thighs, moving down to caress the soft skin of the inner knee, smiling when his lover jerked reflexively as he tickled the creamy skin with his nails. So soft. So warm. Percy’s flesh flushed with heat as he lightened his touch still further so he was only moving the silky fine hair on his lover’s lightly furred skin, making no contact with the skin itself. Percy's breath came in sobs now, his voice past begging, past knowing. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as his whole world came down to this bed. His whole existence waiting for release, dreading release. Love and hate warred within his body as he shivered on the threshold.

"Watch me." Oliver gazed into the sweating face above him as his warm breath blew over the cock, the begging, weeping, engorged organ in front of him. Percy's eyes opened halfway and glowed with want, with such need, pleading for him to just do it- do it now. Slowly he blew air from his mouth, aiming for the sensitive underside of the head of the twitching cock. As he probed gently with his tongue, his lover tried to buck up to meet him. Oliver stopped abruptly. Uh uh- No begging. Percy moaned through his haze of insanity, knowing what this meant, and Oliver thought he heard a whimpering "no…" come from behind clenched teeth. Penalty. Percy knew the rules. No begging.

Firmly, Oliver pressed him back into the bed, stilling his movements. Moving away from the bobbing erection he changed his concentration to move up the body. Arms, shoulders, collarbones… beautiful collarbones. He nestled his head for a moment in the curve of neck offered him before moving on. Trailing his fingertips over the curving bone at the base of the throat, he followed it out to the tender flesh of the inner arm. Slowly he buried his nose in the softness there, nibbling and nipping gently with his teeth. He licked up to the shoulder and leisurely teased and stroked his way back down the now gasping chest. Murmuring quietly, he whispered over and over, “you know the rules… such good rules… don’t beg, now… don’t do it…”

Moving oh-so-slowly, he again rested above Percy's cock. Gazing up into the face contorting with desire, Oliver slowly lowered himself to the swollen penis. His lover's groans echoed in his ears as he took, for the first time, his cock between his lips. Flicking his tongue along the veins he opened his mouth as wide as he could and gently swallowed around it, savoring the salty slickness.

Stroking the sensitive insides of his lover's thighs, he spread the legs a little farther apart. Stroking down the thighs again, he spread Percy’s buttocks open, knowing he was aching for something more. He found a rhythm there, sucking in counterpoint to the spreading of that intimate flesh, opening him without actually handling the puckered ring of muscle.

Letting his saliva generously drip down to the sensitive sac, he moved it about with gentle fingertips wetting the whole area. Percy was thrashing now, as much as his bonds would let him. Slicking his fingers with the pre-come and saliva mixture, he drew the wetness ever lower until it pooled at the puckered entrance. Sweetly, it slid ever farther following the crack to soak into the sheets. Percy was beyond words, beyond anything but this sweet torture, this sweet pleasure. Beyond begging, beyond their game. Oliver knew all teasing was past, Percy couldn’t handle it much longer. His body was shuddering violently with the effort to hold himself in check. Tears poured down his face, his jewel-bright hair plastered to his face and neck with tears and sweat. Probing gently, Oliver slipped one finger, then two past the ring of muscle as Percy howled and came. His cock pulsed and throbbed as the semen streamed out, shooting into Oliver’s mouth. Swallowing convulsively, he pulled hard, nipping slightly, just the way he knew Percy, his love, his beloved, needed it. Scraping his teeth gently along the curve of the head of the cock, he released it. Reaching back to untie the bonds at Percy’s ankles before slithering up the shaking and shuddering body to stroke him into calm again. His lover gazed at him through slitted, wet eyes. Even now tears leaked and he sobbed, insensate, as his torturer, his heart, his Oliver released him from the bonds holding his arms out and above his head, and enfolded him in his warm embrace.

Kissing gently at his temple, Oliver soothed the shaking body and patted Percy into a languid stupor. Slowly moving his hand from the top of his head to the length of thigh in long, lazy, calming strokes. He turned Percy’s body away, and snuggled up close to his back spooning- hissing slightly when his own ignored erection came in contact with overheated, wet skin. Stilling the urge to thrust, he instead rubbed gently, stimulating himself slowly against the backs of his partner's thighs, knowing his own pleasure could wait until his lover was ready for him again. Stroking his hand up his lover's body and down his arm, he lifted the hand and sucked gently on each finger, knowing the simple act would drive his lover crazy. Percy moaned with reawakened lust as Oliver worshipfully supped on each digit, licking carefully at the soft webbing between thumb and forefinger, moving down to the delicate skin of the wrist. His lover mewled and started to move his hips in an unconscious rolling needy motion. Snuggling back closer, Percy pushed the curve of his ass against Oliver’s now dripping erection and gently nipped at the head by slowly clenching his buttocks together. Oliver breathed sharply in, stilling his movements and his sucking of tender flesh as his lover turned the tease back on him by languidly stroking his length with just his body. Just the sweet friction of thighs nipping in, and pulling out.

Groaning, Oliver panted for control, knowing the needy sounds emitting from his throat spurred Percy on to tease more. He was panting, gripping Percy hard around his waist. god, he loved this- needed this- just this pleasurable torture… there- right there- don't stop. Oliver knew he was losing sentience fast, and if he wasn't very careful he would be begging for Percy to finish him. Oliver didn't think he could handle a penalty. Percy’s penalties were deliciously slow, and soft. He grit his teeth in order to not beg, not DEMAND Percy finish him NOW. Percy continued the slow torture rubbing back at him languidly, feline like, seeking to stimulate and to be stimulated in return.

Giving up the power to his partner with a sudden low cry, he lay back bonelessly. Loosing his arms from around Percy, he let him turn and stroke down his body with soft hands. Oh, such soft, sweet, hands. He closed his eyes, feeling a tremble start at his toes, and work its way up his body. He was so close. So close he didn’t think he could stand it. Percy spent long moments licking and nipping at Oliver’s nipples before moving leasiurely down Oliver’s body. Using his hands he spread Oliver’s legs apart and smoothed his palms down Oliver’s legs. Nestled between his legs, Percy lifted each leg and kissed his way up from instep to groin. Moving to lick hotly at the sensitive crease where the top of his thigh met his body, Percy gently caressed Oliver’s length with one long-fingered hand. Waves of sweet pleasure rolled up Oliver’s body as his lover suddenly engulfed his cock in his wet, silken mouth. Crying aloud, he twisted his fingers in Percy’s silky-bright hair, his body arched and tensed as he finally came in sparkling bursts of light.

When he recovered, it was with his lover murmuring in his ear, nibbling gently at the sweet curve of flesh between jaw and lobe. With those soft hands caressing his skin, shoulder to wrist, neck to thigh. Pulling his lover’s face to his for a long searching kiss, he let his eyes drink deeply of the sated, loving expression he found in Percy’s face. No one else ever saw this, this, satisfaction. No one else was ever treated to this sinful pleasure. Their game. Their sweet little game. Pulling the covers over them, Oliver felt warm and protected. They snuggled close, sprawled together, legs entwined, steeping themselves in the feeling of completion. Patting each other softly, stroking silken skin, kissing gently, nuzzling sensitized areas, they slowly drifted together into a light doze.

Fin.