Day 0 - 11:43 PM
“John…” Brian whines, his hands tightening in the sheets.
John’s hand moves up and down his cock almost agonizingly slowly, enough to keep Brian hard but not enough to get him to that sweet spot. John keeps him right on that edge, teases him relentlessly until Brian feels like he’ll go insane if John doesn’t speed up soon.
“John,” he breathes again. “Please, faster.”
John doesn’t speed up. His lips are warm and soft on Brian’s neck, sucking marks into his throat, and he nips and sucks at the spot just below Brian’s jaw until it feels dark and swollen and Brian knows the bruise there will be impossible to hide. His hand is still maddeningly slow, tugging so gently on Brian’s cock, and Brian needs more.
“Sir,” he tries. “Please go faster. Just a little, sir.” He hears John’s breath catch and it feels like a victory.
“You sound so pretty when you beg,” John murmurs, finally speeding up, just enough so that sweet pleasure to start to build at the base of Brian’s spine, heat coiling tight between his hips.
“Yes,” Brian breathes, eyes closed, his head tipped back into the pillow.
John hums, pressing a kiss to Brian neck. John knows him so well, knows his body, knows every little trick that gets him off, and he uses them all to his advantage now, flicking his wrist and thumbing over the slit until Brian is gasping.
“Good?” John whispers, nosing at the corner of Brian’s jaw.
Brian nods. “Don’t stop.”
Suddenly, John’s hand slows again, stroking him so infuriatingly slowly, almost lazily, and Brian whines, frustrated, tossing his head. “John,” he says, a little more bratty than he intended.
“You know,” John hums, “I don’t have to let you come at all.”
Brian’s breath hitches and he can’t hold back the soft whine that’s coaxed from the back of his throat. John smirks, knowing.
“Leave you hard and aching for it, desperate to come,” he muses.
Brian moans, eyes fluttering shut.
John grins. Brian is heavy and leaking in his hand and John strokes him steadily, tugs at his cock and presses his thumb over the slit just to hear him whine.
Every flick of John’s wrist brings Brian closer to the edge until his breath is catching and he’s tensing up, breathing “I’m gonna come.”
John stops, lets go, removes all contact with Brian’s skin. The sound Brian makes is desperate and wrecked.
“John, you fu— god you fucking tease I was so close—”
He almost sounds like he’s going to cry, but John just hums, kisses over the mark he left below his jaw. “Do you think you deserve to come sweetheart?” he murmurs. He’s watching Brian, listening carefully for his safeword; this is a game they’ve played before, but it’s been a while since they’d last indulged and John wants to make sure Brian is still interested.
But Brian doesn’t safeword— his breath catches in his throat and he whimpers, his eyes darting up to look at John, wide. “Sir…”
John searches his eyes but he sees nothing there except desire, blown pupils. Brian is flushed down his chest, breathing hard, his cock rock hard and leaking onto his tummy.
“I don’t think you’ve earned it yet lovey,” John says finally. “You’re not going to come tonight.”
Brian is bright red, and John thinks he might see frustrated tears in his eyes, but Brian doesn’t fight it. “When will I be allowed to come, sir?” he whispers.
John hums. “That’s for me to decide,” he says softly.
Brian whines softly in the back of his throat. He looks up at John with big doe eyes, almost pleading.
“You trust me, yeah?” John searches his eyes.
Brian nods immediately. “Yes, sir.”
John smiles at him, gentle. “Are you going to be good for me darling?”
“Yes, sir.” He shudders as John tucks a loose curl back out of his face. After a moment, he says hesitantly, “what are the rules, sir?”
Pride swells up in John’s chest.
It’s a game they’ve played before, always the same, but Brian knows him, too— as well as John knows him— knows everything that gets him off, and this is one of those things. And so despite the fact that he knows the rules well he asks, so innocently, what John would like him to do. He’s always so good for John, so eager to please, and John doesn’t think he could possibly love him more.
“You don’t come unless I tell you you can,” he softly. “No touching yourself, no getting off in secret. You know that if you do, I’ll find out. You don’t come without my permission. Understand?”
“What are the rules baby?” John asks quietly.
Brian swallows. “No touching myself. I don’t come without your permission.”
“Good boy,” John praises, and Brian’s eyelashes flutter. John smiles, soft, slips his hand down to hold Brian’s jaw so gently. “Such a good, clever boy for me.”
There’s a blush high on Brian’s cheekbones. “Thank you,” he whispers.
John’s chest is full of something warm and fond as he leans in to kiss him, just quickly. Brian is still so hard it looks almost painful but he doesn’t say anything— he follows John to the bathroom and gets cleaned up and ready for bed, and it’s only once they’re settled under the sheets that he’s finally started to go soft.
John gathers Brian into his arms, Brian’s head against his chest, him arm thrown over John’s waist. “Goodnight Bri,” John whispers in the darkness.
Brian hums, squeezes him a little tighter for a moment. “Night John.”
Day 5 - 12:26 PM
John exhales shakily and tightens his hand in Brian’s hair. He’s leaning back on his other hand, sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs spread and Brian between them, his curls brushing the insides of his thighs, his mouth so sinfully hot and wet around John’s cock. Through half-lidded eyes, John just manages to make out Brian, blinking up at him so innocently as he pulls back to suckle on the head.
“Shit,” John breathes. “Just like that Bri.” He resists the urge to fuck his hips forward as Brian hums, sinks down again, hollows his cheeks and sucks. Brian has always been almost unfairly good with his mouth, and between him bobbing his head and swallowing around him like that, fucking moaning around his cock like he’s getting off on it as much as John is, it isn’t long before John is groaning, cursing under his breath, coming down Brian’s throat.
Brian swallows it all eagerly, licks over his lips, and John doesn’t know how he got so lucky. Brian is a fucking vision, kneeling there naked on the floor of their bedroom, looking up at him with doe eyes and red, spit-slick lips. He’s so hard, just from sucking John off, his cock red and leaking between his legs, and when John leans down to kiss him Brian moans softly against his lips, a needy and pitiful little thing.
“Sir...” he breathes when John pulls away. “Can I… I need to come, sir,” he whispers. “Please, can I come?”
It tugs at something in John’s chest and he smiles softly, brushing his knuckles gently over Brian’s cheekbone before slowly slipping his hand down to cup his jaw. Brian shudders and leans into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. When he opens them again he looks desperate and pleading.
John searches his face for a long moment. “Not yet,” he says finally.
Brian swallows, hard. He looks so wrecked, John almost says yes right then and there. Instead, he thumbs over Brian’s cheekbone, soothing, watches Brian close his eyes for a long moment and take in a shuddery breath.
“You want to be good for me, right sweetheart?” John asks quietly.
Brian nods. “Yes,” he says, hoarse. Before John has the chance to say anything, Brian corrects himself. “Yes, sir,” he whispers, and something like pride swells inside John’s chest.
“Good boy,” he murmurs, and Brian manages a small smile, leaning further into John’s touch. John leans down to kiss him then, chaste. “Come on,” he says when he pulls away. “We’d better get ready for practice or we’ll be late.”
Day 5 - 4:36 PM
Practice drags on for hours.
Brian tries to focus, he really does, but the only thought on his mind is how fucking hard he is, still. Every time he feels himself finally starting to go soft he catches sight John again— catches sight of those long fingers, plucking his bass, dancing across the fretboard— and suddenly he’s fully hard again, straining against his trousers rather obscenely. God but John’s hands are fucking massive, and Brian can’t help but think of those fingers inside him, that delicious stretch as John opens him up, searches out his sweet spot and makes him shake, and Brian’s cheeks are positively burning. When John quickly licks his plucking fingers between notes, Brian’s knees almost give out.
The bulge in his trousers is quite honestly indecent, and he’s constantly shifting his guitar, making sure it’s doing a decent job of shielding him. He’s distracted and he knows it’s coming through in his playing, knows he keeps coming in late and missing notes and making stupid mistakes he’s normally never dream of making, but he really can’t help it with John right there, looking like that, bouncing around, playing his bass with those long, talented fingers. John, who keeps sneaking glances at him, raising an eyebrow because he knows exactly what he’s doing to him. John with his ridiculously tight trousers and his ridiculously big hands and that smug fucking smirk on his face—
“You alright there Brian?”
Roger sounds more concerned than anything else, looking up at him from his drum kit, and Brian face grows even hotter as John and Freddie both stop what they’re doing to stare at him too. He swallows.
“Yeah, of course. Why?”
It doesn’t come out as confident as he’d hoped it would. Roger’s eyebrows furrow slightly, and he glances over to Freddie.
“Are you sure?” Freddie says cautiously. “You look… warm. Are you ill? Do you have a fever?”
Before Brian can even blink Freddie is in front of him, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. Brian takes a step back and bats his hand away. He can feel John’s eyes boring into his back. “I’m fine, Fred,” he says quickly. “It’s just a little hot in here, could we crack a window?”
Freddie eyes him skeptically, a hand on his hip, and Brian shifts the Red Special to make sure it’s covering his crotch. When he does, the body of the guitar rubs against him, and just the light pressure makes him whine softly in the back of his throat. God he’s hard. Freddie stares him down for a long moment and Brian squirms under his gaze.
“I guess so,” he says finally.
Brian mutters a thank you as Roger stands and opens the window behind him. When he chances a glance over at John he finds him still staring, something dark and heavy in his eyes. Brian looks away quickly, his cheeks burning.
Focus, Brian, he scolds himself, shaking his head a little to clear the fog as Freddie counts them back in.
Day 9 - 1:52 AM
Just because Brian isn’t allowed to come, it seems, doesn’t mean he isn’t allowed to get fucked.
John’s grip on his hips is so tight it’s probably bruising as he fucks into him hard and fast, pulling Brian back by the hips to meet his thrusts. Brian’s hands grip the sheets so tightly it hurts, his desperate whines and moans being muffled by the pillow his face is buried in until one of John’s hands leaves his hips, fists in his hair and pulls his head up and back as Brian cries out at the new angle. He’s so close he can taste it, can feel it building deep between his hips and licking up his spine, and the moans that are punched from him are high-pitched and breathy, all choked whines and gasps of John’s name.
He wants to come so badly— he needs it, maybe more than he’s ever need anything in his life— and he’s distantly aware that he’s begging, gasping “pleasepleaseplease” until John shifts his hips and he moans, long and loud. John is fucking him so well, hitting his prostate with every thrust until he’s an incoherent mess, and Brian knows he’ll be sore tomorrow but he really can’t find it within himself to care.
John lets go of his hair, Brian’s head dropping back onto the pillow as John folds himself over his back and starts fucking him faster.
“Don’t come,” John grunts into his ear.
To Brian’s horror, hot tears prickle in his eyes. He’s overwhelmed with how much he wants, so pent up he feels like he might explode with how much he needs it, and now John is telling him he can’t have it, still, and he can’t help that he’s crying into the sheets, begging so desperately, “please sir, please let me come, please ‘m so close—”
John’s hips stutter and then suddenly he’s going still, groaning lowly as he comes, his face buried in Brian’s shoulder. He collapses on top of Brian, breathing hard. He doesn’t seem to notice that Brian is still desperate and needy underneath him, so close a breath of air on his cock could probably push him over the edge, and the longer John goes without moving, the more Brian can feel himself slipping away from the edge. He just needs it and John won’t give it to him and he swears he’s never needed to come more in his life than he does right now and he barely even registers that he’s begging again.
“Please sir,” he sobs, “please, I need it, I need to come please, please let me come please—” John slowly pulls out, and Brian whines loudly. “No don’t stop don’t— keep going—”
John just hushes him, soothing, presses a kiss to his shoulder before he collapses beside him. He gently maneuvers Brian onto his back, turning Brian’s head towards him so he can wipe his tears with his thumb. “Come on now,” he whispers, dropping a kiss on to Brian’s nose. “You’re okay sweetheart.”
Brian whines pitifully. “Please let me come,” he whimpers, looking at John tearfully. “I’ve been s-so good for you sir please, I need to come, please make me come.”
John shushes him again, smooths Brian’s curls back out of his face. “Soon, okay? I promise.”
Brian whines again, petulant, tossing his head away from John. It reminds John a little of a kid throwing a tantrum.
“None of that now sweetheart,” he says sternly. “You’re being so good for me Bri. My good, perfect boy, hmm? Just think how good it’s going to feel when I finally do let you come. It’ll be so worth it baby.” Brian looks back at him with desperate eyes, and it’s the most needy and wrecked John has seen him look in a long time. He gives him a small smile. “Just trust me, okay?”
Brian lets out a shaky breath, and after a long moment, he nods. He’s still so hard it almost looks painful, and for a moment John feels bad, considers taking it back and getting Brian off right here and now— god knows it wouldn’t take much— but he pushes the thought to the back of his mind and leans in to kiss him, chaste. “Okay honey,” he says softly. “Let’s get ready for bed.”
Day 12 - 4:22 AM
John blinks groggily in the darkness of the room. It takes him a long moment to figure out what woke him up, and it turns out that what woke him up is Brian, still fast asleep, rutting against his leg. He’s letting out short pants and whimpers, clinging to John, and John can feel his hardness rubbing against his leg under the sheets.
John almost feels bad. Brian has been so good for him for so long, doing so wonderfully, and for a long moment John really considers letting him get off like this. He sounds so nice, breathing shakily, moaning, and it would be so easy to just let him rut against his leg until he comes in his pyjama pants. But John thinks of how good Brian has been for him, how incredible it’s going to feel when he’s finally allowed to come, and how he doesn’t want him to waste that on a wet dream. He sighs.
“Brian,” he murmurs, rubbing Brian’s shoulder gently. “Bri, wake up.”
Brian has always been a light sleeper, and it’s only a moment later that he’s groaning, his eyebrows furrowing, before he slowly cracks his eyes open. “John?” he asks hoarsely, blinking a few times in the darkness. He sits up a little. “What's wrong?”
John rubs his arm gently. “You were getting off on my leg sweetheart.”
“I… oh.” Brian cheek’s flush as he seems to realize that he’s hard, pressed against John’s thigh, and he quickly shifts his hips away. He looks away from John, almost ashamed. “‘M sorry.”
“Don’t be,” John says gently. “Let’s just go back to sleep, yeah?”
Brian nods, small. “Okay,” he says, his voice impossibly small, and John’s chest aches.
He leans in for a quick kiss. “I love you Bri,” he whispers, gathering Brian into his arms again and pulling him close.
“Love you,” Brian mumbles, cuddling further into his chest.
Day 13 - 11:12 PM
Brian steps carefully out of the shower, grabbing the towel he’d laid out on the counter. He catches sight of himself in the mirror and he stares himself down for a long moment, takes in his pale skin and the jut of his collarbones and the circles under his eyes that he can never seem to get rid of. He sighs, tugging at the scrunchie in his hair until it comes free, his curls tumbling onto his shoulders. He runs his hands through his hair to relax it— he’d gotten it a bit wet near his temples and the nape of his neck, but all things considered, he’d managed to keep it fairly dry.
He quickly dries himself off and brushes his teeth, before wrapping the towel around his waist and heading down the hall. He pauses in the doorway of the bedroom, taking in the scene in front of him— everything is the same, save for the chair that’s been dragged from the corner of the room to directly in front of the bed. Brian knows this game well, and his stomach flips in anticipation.
John is sitting on the edge of the bed, and he gets up now, walking toward Brian slowly. Brian watches him approach, his heart pounding in his chest.
John nods toward the chair. “Do you want to?” he asks softly.
Brian nods. “Yes,” he whispers. John smiles at him, and Brian can’t help but return it, his cheeks already feeling warm. “What would you like me to do, sir?” he asks, almost shyly.
John hums, his eyes roaming Brian’s face, down his chest. He takes a step closer, fingers toying with where the towel is wrapped around Brian’s waist. “I want you to touch yourself for me,” he says softly. “I want to see those long fingers around your pretty cock, want to watch you get yourself off.” He tugs on the towel and lets it fall to the floor at Brian’s feet, leaving him standing there naked in front of him. “If you put on a good show for me,” he hums, “I might just let you come tonight.”
Brian’s knees feel weak at the very idea. John is standing so close and Brian wants to lean in and kiss him— but that isn’t how the game works.
“How does that sound baby?” John smirks up at him.
“Really good,” Brian says honestly, a little too eagerly, and John’s soft laugh makes Brian’s cheeks burn.
Finally, John takes a step back. “On the bed for me,” he says.
Brian moves toward the bed, slowly. He’s already hard just from the idea of getting off and he feels exposed in the best possible way, with John now seated in the chair at the end of the bed, watching him with dark eyes. He’s leaning back in the chair, gripping the armrests, his legs spread, and the obvious bulge in his trousers makes Brian’s heart race. He lies back in the middle of the bed, propped against the pillows, his legs splayed naturally, enough to give John a good view. He watches John, not daring to touch until he has permission.
John’s eyes roam up and down his body, almost lazily, and Brian has to fight not to squirm. “Go ahead,” John says finally. “Get that beautiful cock all wet for me sweetheart.”
Brian doesn’t have to be told twice. The lube is already laid out for him on the bed, and he grabs it now, squirting some onto his hand before curling it around his cock. He’s heavy and straining in his own hand, and the slide of his fist feels fucking incredible— all tight, slick pleasure. He breathes out shakily and speeds up a bit.
“Not too fast,” John says, his voice low. “I told you to put on a show, didn’t I?”
Brian bites back a whine and goes slower.
John watches him hungrily, watches his fist dragging up and down so slowly, squeezing and twisting at the head. God but Brian looks all kinds of lovely, laid out there on the bed for him, his legs fallen open wide like he can’t help it, flushed such a pretty pink from his cheeks down to his chest.
Brian always sounds pretty, but the noises he’s making now are something else entirely— all barely controlled pants and breathless moans and whimpers and John’s trousers feel uncomfortably tight. Brian’s eyes are closed, his mouth working as he thumbs over the slit again and again, his legs falling open wider, and John can’t help but palm himself as he watches.
“Look at me,” John says, and Brian pries his eyes open just enough to look at him from underneath his eyelashes. “You have no idea how good you look like that Bri,” John says, almost awed. “So fucking pretty for me with your long fingers around that gorgeous cock. You’re so big Brimi. Such a big, pretty cock. Barely fits in your hand sweetheart.”
Brian whines, his chest heaving. “John…” he whimpers.
“Sound so nice too sweetheart.” John murmurs. “So needy and desperate, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes,” Brian breathes, and the slick sounds of him tugging on his cock go straight to John’s prick. “I’m close sir, I’m so close I need to come, please sir.”
John hums. “Not yet baby. I’m enjoying the show.”
Brian whines, tossing his head away from John. The hand around his cock has slowed down considerably as he tries to hold off. John can see it leaking in his fist, Brian’s hand wet with lube and with precome. He’s flushed red, eyes desperate and hazy, and he looks like he’s fraying at the edges, barely a breath away from completely falling apart. John watches, entranced, as Brian squeezes the base of his cock, his other hand twisting at the head and making him cry out, his back arching.
“God, you look incredible,” John breathes. “My lovely, pretty boy, hmm?”
Brian whimpers, his chest heaving. “Please, sir,” he begs, breathy.
John stands, slowly, makes his way over to the bed to sit on the edge beside Brian. “Please what baby?” he says softly. “Tell me what you need.”
Brian whines, frustrated, looking up at John tearfully from under his eyelashes. “I need to come,” he whispers brokenly. “I need it so much sir, god I need it— I’ve been so good for you sir please let me come.”
John settles his hand on Brian’s thigh, just rests it there, watches Brian’s cock twitch. “You’re right honey, you’ve been so good for me,” he murmurs. “Such a good, perfect boy for me.” He hums, running his hand over the inside of Brian’s thigh to watch him squirm. When Brian blinks, hot tears run down his cheeks, and John breaks. “You can come whenever you need to sweetheart.”
Brian’s eyes widen, like he can’t quite believe it. John nods, reassuring. With the knowledge that he can come whenever he wants, it takes maybe three or four more strokes before he’s tensing up, crying out, coming so hard it leaves him breathless. His back arches off the bed, head thrown back and mouth working as ropes of white shoot up his chest, his cock twitching wildly in his hand for what seems like forever, until, finally, he goes lax.
He’s breathing hard, whimpering softly, and John’s smooths his hand up his thigh and over his hip, soothing. Tears leak from the corners of Brian’s eyes and John can’t help but let that go straight to his cock.
“Okay?” John asks gently, tucking Brian’s curls back out of his face.
Brian nods, weakly. He manages to crack his eyes open and look up at John, still tearful and hazy. John smiles softly and wipes the tears away with his thumb.
“You came so much baby,” he muses, running his fingers through the mess on Brian’s chest. “Look at that, it’s all over your chest. You made such a mess sweetheart.”
Brian watches him with half-lidded eyes as John scoops his come onto his fingers, brings them to Brian’s mouth. Brian opens for him before John even has to ask, and John feels a surge of pride. Brian sucks his fingers into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as he hums at the taste of himself. When John’s fingers are clean he does it again, runs them through the mess on Brian’s chest and brings them back to Brian’s mouth, again and again until Brian’s chest is clean.
Now, Brian has ridiculous stamina even at the worst of times. His refractory period is virtually nonexistent, and now, having been deprived for so long, John isn’t surprised in the slightest that this has made him hot for it again. He’s still spent, looking up at John with his dark eyes glazed over, his cock hard against him tummy. John smirks, biting back a laugh.
“That was fast,” he teases, and Brian’s cheeks colour even more pink than they already were.
“Shut up,” Brian mumbles. “You’re the one who didn’t let me come for weeks. Sadist.”
John chuckles. He runs his hand slowly down Brian’s chest to his stomach, down to his oversensitive cock, curling it around him and stroking him so gently.
Brian moans softly. “John…”
John looks down at him, his gaze heavy. He takes in the sight of Brian, spread out on the bed for him, so fucked out already yet still desperate for more. “You want me to fuck you sweetheart?” he asks.
Brian makes a soft sound in the back of his throat. “God, yes.”