get a piece of your action

by Alexandra Shinai

"I suppose we really should fuck him before he dies of frustration," Freddie commented. Or, Roger gets mouthy in the studio and gets thoroughly punished for it.

I spent three and a half months writing this so apparently this is what I'm doing with my life now.
Couldn't have done it without my amazing co-writer, the one and only Freddie Mercury. This is our dream and we're very happy to finally share it with everyone.

"Bri, you're doing it all wrong!"

Brian narrowly resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned around to look at their drummer, seated behind his drum kit with what could only be described as a pout on his face. "What exactly am I doing wrong, Roger?"

"You're doing it way too slow and making me fall behind," Roger said indignantly.

"I believe you're supposed to be leading me, not the other way around," Brian responded, glancing briefly at John, who was standing a few feet away with a half-amused expression, his hands resting lightly atop his bass.

"Either way, you're not keeping up and it's making everything sound horrible! You could at least try to sound competent! If I wasn't sitting back here, I'd do it myself and it would sound much better," Roger snapped, clutching his drumsticks so tightly in his hand they wouldn't have been surprised if he'd broken them clean in half.

They had been rehearsing for their upcoming tour for the better part of the day, the fading rays of sunlight coming in through the studio windows indicating that the day was almost over. Tensions had been running high for the last couple of hours as the band struggled with their newest creation, and now they were at a breaking point.

"You'd rather you play guitar in this section? I'd like to see you try! You couldn't play this part if I shoved the guitar up your bloody—"

"Dears, I think it's time to call it a day," Freddie interrupted, just before Brian had the chance to put down his guitar, jump over the drum kit, and throttle Roger in frustration. "We'll have plenty of time to work on our parts tomorrow."

"If Brian doesn't fuck them up, you mean," Roger said, standing up from his drum kit and pointing one of his drumsticks directly at Brian in clear accusation.

"I think you're the only one around here who's fucking anything up," Brian answered, rolling his eyes at how much of a nuisance Roger was being.

"We'll worry about that tomorrow," Freddie said, obviously trying to stop their fight before it could get any worse. "Why don't we go home and open up a bottle of champagne? I think we could all use some right now."

---

Three hours and a bottle of champagne later, the band was in a considerably better mood than they had been just before they left the studio. Roger in particular was doing much better, so distracted by the two glasses of champagne he'd drank in two hours that he was no longer complaining about Brian's guitar playing skills, but instead acting as the band's lap pet, having first wriggled his way into Freddie's lap, then Brian's, and finally John's, all in the span of half an hour. They'd all maybe had a bit too much to drink themselves, so none of them were in any state of mind to really mind Roger's clingy, whiny, needy intoxicated self coming out to play.

"I swear, Deaky, Brian is so mean to me," Roger complained, sprawled out in John's lap with a nearly-empty glass of champagne in his hand. John was sitting on the couch in their flat, one arm lying flat across the back of the couch and the other wrapped around Roger's waist, attempting to keep him from falling off his lap with the way he kept listing to the side. Freddie and Brian were standing in the kitchen just a few feet away, apparently heatedly discussing something and paying no attention to what the other two were doing.

"How exactly is he mean to you?"

"He never takes me seriously, he thinks I never know what I'm doing, and I know he thinks I don't bring anything to the band. I'll bet he thinks I'm just a waste of space, too. But I'm not," Roger insisted, draining the rest of his glass in one quick motion and tossing it off the side of the couch once it was completely empty, not caring where it ended up. "You don't think that, do you?"

"Of course not. As strange as you sometimes are, we need you. We wouldn't be Queen without you," John said, causing Roger to smile widely and plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "And I know Brian doesn't think that about you. You know we all have bad tempers, and when we get set off, we end up saying things we regret later."

"You're so wise," Roger sighed. "It's really hot."

John hid his smile in Roger's shoulder, the hand on his waist skimming down to his hip. "You're not too bad yourself."

Roger leaned back against John, lolling his head to the side and closing his eyes. John seized his opportunity, leaning in to press light kisses to the side of Roger's neck. Roger mumbled something unintelligible, but it didn't appear to be a protest, so he continued, leaving a trail down to his collarbone and biting lightly at the skin there, making Roger squirm in his lap.

"Mmm… what are you doing?" Roger finally asked, opening his eyes to look at John. Roger's eyes were already hazy, as if the simplest touch of John's lips had him slipping under, right where John wanted him.

"I'm just taking care of you," John said, watching Roger's face for any reaction, but all he did was blink, looking slightly dazed. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, go on," Roger answered after a few moments, sighing contentedly. "I like being appreciated."

John smiled softly and continued his trail, pressing kisses back from his collarbone across to his shoulder and down the top of his arm, all the way down until he reached Roger's hand, to which he lifted gently and placed a single, lingering kiss to the back of. Roger actually giggled, and when John lifted his head to meet Roger's gaze, Roger's smile was warm.

"Come here," John murmured. Roger obeyed almost immediately, tipping his head forward, lessening the distance between them enough for John to reach out with his free hand, cup his jaw, and close the gap with a kiss. Roger quickly deepened it with a whine, a soft litany of noises coming from him as John explored his mouth, even though Roger hadn't even been properly touched yet.

"What exactly is going on here?"

They broke apart to find Brian and Freddie standing in front of them, Freddie with a knowing smirk on his face and Brian looking exceptionally confused. Roger made a displeased sound at being forced to stop, John rolling his eyes in minor annoyance for the same reason. Surely Freddie and Brian had been so busy discussing whatever it was they were discussing that they could've left John and Roger to their business?

"I know what's going on, Brian," Freddie said, glancing from Brian standing beside him to John and Roger curled up on the couch. "I think they decided to have some fun without us. It's truly a shame that they didn't think to invite us. A little rude, too, I'd say."

"Well, we were in the middle of something," John said, squeezing Roger's hip almost possessively, making him squeak in surprise and squirm a little in John's lap, the movement going straight to his cock and making him inhale sharply.

"But," he continued, "I suppose, if Roger's up for it, you could join. Call it a team building exercise."

Roger nodded fervently at this suggestion, and the smile that formed on Freddie's face was downright sinful; a promise of all that was yet to come for the night ahead. "I'm always up for a good time, dear," he said, taking those few steps to the couch and fitting himself in next to John, placing a hand on the inside of Roger's thigh and leaning in to kiss him.

Brian was gaping at them by this point, motionless and silent since he'd introduced the original question. With the way Roger was squirming around in his lap as Freddie's hand crept higher and their kissing evolving into a full-blown make-out session right in front of John's face, he was going to get on with it regardless of Brian's participation or lack thereof, but it was probably rude not to invite him to join them. "Brian, are you going to hurry up and join us?"

Brian merely made a sound that sounded quite like he was choking, and when John peeked at him over the top of Roger's head, he saw that Brian's face was rapidly flushing pink. Freddie separated from Roger long enough to look over at Brian, pointedly ignoring Roger's pitiful whine at the loss of contact. "Brian, dear, if you don't get over here in the next minute, we're going to start without you."

"Considering this one's about to come in his trousers," John remarked, to which Freddie snickered as Roger gave him an indignant look.

"I am not!" Roger protested, clearly about to go into another one of his rants, but Freddie shut him up by putting a hand over his cock, stroking him slowly through the fabric of his trousers, making Roger's words dissolve into a moan.

That was all it took for Brian's resolve to break. He hurriedly fit himself into the last gap on the couch, on John's other side opposite from Freddie, placing a tentative hand on Roger's other inner thigh. Roger spread his legs wider in response, struggling not to cant his hips up as Freddie stroked him slowly and teasingly. John shifted slightly to wrap his arms around Roger's waist, pinning him down in his lap while taking the opportunity to rock his hips a little and grind his hardening cock against the curve of Roger's ass.

"Fuck," Roger whined, giving in to the desire to thrust into Freddie's touch and doing so shamelessly, even as John tightened his grip on Roger and Brian's nails dug into his thigh. "Stop being such teases," he managed to pant out, voice rising in a sort of desperation on the last word, even though they had barely gotten a hand on him yet. The heady buzz of intoxication was coursing through his veins, both from all the alcohol he'd drank and from being surrounded by the other three men, and his arousal was sharp and all-encompassing, the restless energy inside him about to burst.

"We're not being teases, darling. You're just being impatient as always," Freddie said, hands moving slightly upward to pop open the button of Roger's trousers and then to make quick work of his zipper. He stopped short at the sight that greeted him, a new flush of arousal painting his cheeks. "Well, it seems as though our dear Roger has a surprise for us."

Brian murmured a soft curse at the sight, and John peeked around Roger's head to see what Freddie was talking about. Upon seeing that little flash of red poking out from underneath Roger's trousers, it felt like all the breath had been knocked from John's lungs.

"Were you planning for this to happen?" John asked, even though it was obvious by the more-than-pleased smirk on Roger's face and the way he wiggled his hips in response that this was clearly a well-planned invitation. "Roger Taylor. I can't bloody believe you," he said with a shake of his head, although he couldn't possibly deny how the sight of Roger's little red knickers had made his cock even harder than before. "Get up then, let's have a look."

He pulled his arms back from around Roger's waist, giving him room to climb off John's lap and stumble onto his feet as Freddie rose from the couch and dragged Roger by the hand up with him. Standing there in front of Roger with his flushed cheeks and half-open trousers, Freddie couldn't resist the urge to lean in and kiss him again, Roger responding easily with a low whine as he immersed himself in the kiss. With one hand, Freddie reached down to palm Roger's cock through the thin, lacy fabric of his knickers, the front damp with a dot of precum and strained by his insistent hardness. Roger moaned his appreciation into the kiss, opening his mouth and licking into Freddie's with a new hunger.

When Freddie finally pulled away, he stepped back to look at Roger. Understandably, he was a mess, with his cheeks flushed even darker, lips reddened and kiss-swollen, and his cock straining so hard at the fabric of his little red knickers that it looked as though the lace was about to tear. There was another drop of precum beading at the tip and soaking into the lace front, and Freddie reached out and swiped it away with his index finger, sucking it into his mouth with a soft hum of approval. Roger visibly shuddered, his cock twitching with obvious interest at the sight of Freddie's lips wrapped around his finger.

"Do us the honors, Freddie," John called. Brian had shifted closer to him in Roger and Freddie's absence, and he couldn't resist sneaking a hand into Brian's lap, coaxing him to full hardness through the fabric of his trousers as they watched the little show before them.

"It would be my pleasure," Freddie answered. Stepping forward to minimize the distance between himself and Roger once more, he placed his hands on Roger's hips and pushed his trousers down, letting them pool at Roger's feet. Roger kicked out of them immediately, twirling in a circle to show off just how skimpy the knickers truly were, that self-satisfied smirk reappearing on his face.

"What do you think?" Roger asked once he'd come to a stop, wobbling a little unsteadily on his feet but not quite falling, a little lightheaded from how much he'd had to drink.

There was silence for a few seconds as the other three drank him in, then a soft hiss and a low curse from Brian, partially attributed to the fact that John's hand had now crept inside his trousers, but also to the way Roger looked in those little knickers. The back and sides were merely strings, leaving his ass entirely exposed, and Brian desperately wanted to pull that little back string aside and eat him out until Roger was crying and begging for more.

"I think Brian speaks for all of us," Freddie said, amusement in his tone but a dark lust simmering in his eyes as he spoke. "You look absolutely stunning, darling. I'll admit I'm having trouble not just bending you over the back of this couch right now and making you forget everything but what it feels like when I fuck you."

"What's stopping you?" Roger challenged.

"You haven't earned it," Freddie answered. "Tell me, darling, should I really give you what you want when you were so rude to Brian earlier?"

"That's not fair! He started it," Roger protested, folding his arms across his chest. "I didn't do anything. I've been good, I promise!"

"You've been a brat, Roger," John commented, shifting slightly on the couch and withdrawing his hand from Brian's trousers, much to Brian's disappointment. "Telling us what to do, demanding things from us. If you want us to do anything with you at all, you'll have to make up for it first."

"How exactly am I supposed to do that?"

There was a glint in John's eyes, the corner of his lips lifting. "Oh, I have some ideas."

Freddie came up behind Roger, putting his arms around him and tugging the hem of his shirt upwards. "You're wearing much too many clothes," Freddie murmured, helping to pull the shirt up over Roger's head and completely off of him, tossing it onto the floor once it had been removed.

"You're one to talk," Roger countered, the rough touch of fabric against his overheated skin a stark reminder that he was the only one in any state of undress. Still, with Freddie pressed up against him, he could feel the hard line of Freddie's cock against his ass, separated from him only by the fabric of Freddie's trousers. With Freddie's breath hot on his skin and his fingers hooking under the sides of Roger's knickers, he was in no state of mind to be bothered by his near-nudity.

"We'll deal with my clothes later. For now, let's get these off," Freddie suggested, pulling Roger's knickers down in one smooth motion, freeing his cock and making him gasp softly. He could feel Brian and John's eyes raking over him hungrily as he stepped out of the knickers, kicking them to the side. "If you'd kept those on any longer, I would have been too tempted to ruin them," Freddie added, voice a low rumble that made Roger shudder, cock twitching again as it felt like all the blood in his body was rushing south to become a pooling heat in the pit of his stomach.

"Could always buy me another pair," Roger said, a whine escaping from his throat as Freddie rutted against him for a moment, dipping his head to suck a mark into the curve of Roger's neck.

"And then I would just end up ruining those as well," Freddie said as he lifted his head to examine his work, eyes sweeping approvingly over the column of Roger's neck and the dark bruise beginning to form. "I suppose I could just buy you an entire closet full of them… but if you wore them on stage, I'd have no choice but to fuck you right there, with everyone watching."

By the way Roger's body responded to that thought, he'd found a new kink of his; arousal thrumming through his body, cock twitching as Freddie wrapped a hand around it, stroking him a few times, traitorously slow and teasing. "Freddie," Roger breathed, somehow unable to say or do anything more; Freddie had him under his complete control.

"What a whore," John said. "Getting off on the thought of everyone watching you get fucked. Is that what you want, Roger?"

"Answer him, dear," Freddie said, pulling his hand away from Roger's cock and making him whine again at the loss of contact. What he really wanted, what he really needed, was for one of them, or preferably all of them, to fuck him until he'd come so much there was nothing left, until he was too sore and fucked out to move, until there was no chance of him not feeling it the next day, the burn in his ass and thighs when he would sit down at his drumkit in the studio.

He was so hard he was aching.

"Please," was his answer. "I want you to fuck me, I need it so much, please."

"In time, we might. If you're good," John responded, a smirk on his face that Roger desperately wanted to kiss off.

"I'll be good, I'll be so fucking good, please," he panted, fighting the urge to slip his hand down his front and jerk himself off. He needed someone to touch him, to bring him over the edge, to do more than what Freddie was doing: being a motherfucking tease, getting him all riled up and not bothering to finish him off. "I'll do anything you want, just touch me!"

"Anything, you say?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, anything! Anything you fucking want, just someone fucking touch me!" he snapped, squirming desperately in Freddie's grasp, even though Freddie simply tightened his grip on Roger's hips to prevent him from going anywhere; his grip was so tight that there would surely be bruises the next day, but Roger couldn't find it in himself to mind the idea of Freddie's fingerprints branded onto his skin.

"Then I think it's time we get started," he said. "Freddie, if you would, please?"

"Of course," Freddie answered, his grip loosening as he pulled away from Roger, pressing a delicate kiss to the top of his shoulder before he let go. "I'll be right back, my dear. Be good for Brian and John while I'm gone." He left the room, his disappearing footsteps the only sign of his absence Roger noticed, not daring to turn away from Brian and John.

Brian hadn't said anything more, but his eyes were dark and focused on Roger, a hand in his lap; either hiding or touching the bulge in his trousers, the latter more likely. Beside him, John shifted to lean forward, palms splayed flat across the top of his knees, eyes trained on Roger's face.

Roger stared back defiantly, then reached for his cock.

"Don't even think about it."

"Or what?" Roger challenged.

"Or none of us will fuck you," John replied.

"You won't touch me either, so what's the point?"

"We'll touch you, if you're patient. There's nothing wrong with taking things slow."

"It's way too slow for me," Roger complained.

"It's not my fault you can never last."

"Roger, I thought I told you to be good while I was gone. But of course, here you are, being absolutely insufferable," Freddie said, strolling back into the room with a few things in his hands that Roger couldn't quite identify with Freddie's fingers curled around them. He set a couple of the items down on the nightstand by the couch, Roger recognizing them as a cloth and a bottle of lube, but then he approached Roger with something metal in his hand. As Freddie stopped in front of him, Roger's gaze flicked from whatever it was in Freddie's hand up to his eyes, which were intently searching his own.

"Do you trust me?" Freddie asked him.

He didn't hesitate. "Always."

Freddie smiled widely, and then Roger lost all coherent thought as Freddie reached down and finally, finally touched him, stroking his cock a few times, but the relief was short-lived as he took the metal object and slid it down over his cock until it sat snugly at the base.

Roger stared down at it and then looked back up at Freddie. "What is that?"

"That's a cock ring, darling."

"And why is it on me?"

"Because John's right; you never last, and we'd like to make this last longer than five minutes." Roger thought he should have been offended by this sentiment, but then Freddie was stepping away from him to pick up the discarded pair of knickers on the floor, and upon seeing Freddie with those little red knickers in his hand, any offense he had felt was replaced with a flutter of nervous arousal in the pit of his stomach.

Freddie stepped up behind him and gently pulled Roger's arms back behind his body, placing one wrist over the other before starting to wind the fabric of the knickers around them, pulling them back through the loop he made a few times until he decided they were sufficiently knotted around Roger's wrists and bound to hold.

"Not too tight? Feel good?"

"Yeah," Roger said, his mouth suddenly dry. "But what are you doing?"

"No more questions, Rog. Just let yourself go under. Let go of everything that's been troubling you. Let go of everything other than this room, everyone other than the four of us. Let us take you apart and break you and put you back together. Just let go." Freddie punctuated each sentence with a kiss; one to Roger's shoulderblade, one to the curve of his spine, one to the nape of his neck, one to his temple, one to his cheek, and for the last, he gently turned Roger's head towards his own and pressed a brief kiss to his parted lips. "Can you do that for me? For us?"

Roger exhaled shakily and nodded.

Freddie's answering smile was bright and warm. He turned to face John and Brian, curling a possessive hand over the nape of Roger's neck and squeezing lightly. "What are we starting with tonight?"

"He still needs to be punished," John said, leaning back against the couch. "Bring him over here."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"We'll find out."

Freddie gently guided Roger to the couch, the hand on the back of his neck trailing down to the small of his back to help him along. "Where do you want him?"

"Across our laps."

Freddie moved from Roger's side to sit back down in his spot next to John on the couch, interest bright in his eyes as he watched Roger. John beckoned him forward and Roger obeyed immediately, slightly less likely to be a brat now that he was just desperate to get off, knowing listening to them would help him get there faster.

"Come on, Roger. Up you go," John said, tugging him into his lap once Roger had stopped directly in front of him. It took a minute or two of situating and help from Brian and Freddie, but finally, Roger ended up laid out across their laps, with his cheek pressed into Freddie's thigh, feet in Brian's lap, and his ass right in front of John, waist pulled up just slightly so that there was no chance of him being able to rut against John's thigh; any attempts would inevitably send him toppling to the floor.

"I think I quite like where this is going," Freddie said once Roger was settled, putting a hand on the back of Roger's head and tangling his fingers in his hair. Roger made a soft noise in the back of his throat and did his best to lean into the touch.

There was something so powerfully intoxicating about the whole situation, about him being tied up and spread out naked in their laps while they were all fully clothed, as though he was merely a toy for them to use at their own convenience. The thought made him feel a little lightheaded with another rush of arousal, and he squirmed, trying his best to rut against John's thigh, despite the fact that in this position his ass was elevated so that he was making contact with nothing but air. At his movement, Freddie's fingers tightened in his hair until it was almost painful, tugging slightly, and Roger hissed at the sensation.

He was dizzy and drunk on more than just alcohol.

John placed a hand on the curve of Roger's ass, firm and possessive. He squeezed lightly, enjoying the resulting squeak that came from Roger's mouth. "Here's what's going to happen," he said, placing his other hand on the small of Roger's back. "I'm going to spank you. You're going to count each one out loud for me. If you miss one, we're starting over from number one. And you're getting as many as I see fit for what you were up to earlier. Do you understand?"

Roger did his best to nod with his face pressed into Freddie's lap, barely resisting his desire to squirm in anticipation.

"Say it."

"Yeah," he breathed. "I understand."

"Good."

"And you know the word if you'd like to stop," Freddie added. Roger nodded again, although he was fairly sure hell would have to freeze over before he would ever want to stop.

The first hit nearly made Roger shriek, both from its suddenness and its intensity, his ass already stinging from just the single slap. There was a pleasure-pain tingling up his spine at the sensation, and it was all he could do not to moan into Freddie's thigh.

"Roger, I don't hear you," John said. "Should we start over?"

"We should," Brian said, voice rough, and Roger shivered at the sound.

"Freddie?"

"Start over," Freddie agreed, tugging once more on the strands of Roger's hair he had his fingers wrapped around. Roger could only squirm in response, pressing his feet into Brian's lap, but then there was a hand on his calves, pressing them down and forcing him to be still.

"I want to hear you this time," John said, tracing over the curve of Roger's ass again with his fingers, letting them ghost teasingly over the space between his cheeks. "But if I don't? Well, you'll only be hurting yourself by not giving in. We can all get off just fine without you."

"You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?" John smiled as he looked at Roger's form in his lap, spread out bare, trembling with the anticipation of finally being touched, needy to the point of begging. "There's not a thing stopping me from leaving you like this and just coming on your back or your ass or your face. I don't have to fuck you. None of us do. So if you don't want to let us take control, by all means, continue… but don't expect to be untied until tomorrow morning."

There was a hitch in Roger's breath and John knew he had won.

"Please," Roger mumbled.

"Please what?"

They were hardly audible, but the words hung in the air after he spoke them, heavy with promise. "Please control me, please fuck me, please do whatever you want to me. I want you to use me. I need it, I need you," he whispered, humiliated tears beginning to prick at the corners of his eyes at the conclusion of his confession.

John hummed quietly, and the hand that wasn't on Roger's ass stroked down his back softly. "That was very good, Roger. I'm proud of you. But I believe you're forgetting something."

A few seconds of silence passed, but still John waited, determined not to move forward until Roger had completely given himself to them, until he had completely given in to what they all knew he needed and wanted.

Finally, there was a shaky sigh and another whisper.

"Please, Daddy."

A tear rolled down Roger's cheek as he said it, but he had never been harder.

"That's a good girl," John said approvingly, and then his hand rose to come down on Roger's ass with a loud smack, the first of the new set. Roger yelped, and then remembering that he was supposed to be counting, struggled to get his voice to work.

"One," he managed. For that, he was rewarded with another; not quite as hard as the first, but still enough to make him cry out. "Two," he said.

By the fifth, the sting of John's hand making contact with his ass was starting to become purely pleasurable, arousal burning hot in the pit of his stomach, and Roger knew he would be close if it weren't for the bloody cock ring. By the tenth, he was starting to squirm more with every hit, to the point that Freddie and Brian had to hold him down; Freddie's fingers pressing marks into his shoulderblades, Brian's fingers pressing into his thighs, so temptingly close to where Roger needed to be touched, but not close enough.

By the fifteenth, tears were starting to well in his eyes again, a combination of frustration at not being touched and simply not being able to get off. He felt overstimulated and overwhelmed, although he didn't want to stop; he just wanted to come.

By the twentieth, his ass was sore and the tears were starting to fall, and he hid his face in Freddie's thigh as he started to cry, unable to hide the little sniffling noises he made, his body shaking.

"Are you alright?" Freddie asked him, slightly alarmed by the sight of Roger crying into the fabric of his trousers. Roger nodded jerkily, forcing a response out through his little hiccups and sobs.

"It's just so much," he said. "And I just want to come."

"You'll definitely get to come, my love. You did so well," Freddie praised, running his fingers gently through Roger's hair. "You're always so good for us."

Roger shivered as he felt the gentle press of lips to his lower back, recognizing those lips as John's when he spoke thereafter, almost murmuring the words into Roger's skin.

"You're such a good girl," he said. "You took that so well. We're gonna take such good care of you."

It was enough to quiet Roger's sobs down to just sniffling, although there were still tear tracks on his face and a wet spot on Freddie's trousers from his tears. He faintly heard Brian saying something to Freddie and Freddie saying something in response, but he couldn't make out the words, his world starting to narrow down to whoever was touching him and talking to him at that precise moment.

There was the sound of a container opening, and then there was Brian's voice again, directed toward Roger this time.

"Our poor girl," he murmured. "Just needs someone to touch her, hmm?"

"Please," Roger breathed. His mind felt fuzzy around the edges already; everything was a little far away, but in the best way.

"Then relax," was the soft response, Roger doing his best not to whine as he felt someone spreading his cheeks apart, exposing his opening. "I've got you."

And then there was a lube-slicked finger slowly pressing into him. Roger tensed in surprise, and Brian's voice returned, coaxing him through it.

"Take it easy, Roger. Let me make you feel good," he said. "I have to open you up now so you can ride my cock later."

Brian didn't talk dirty very much, but when he did, fuck, he knew just how to hit all of Roger's weak spots.

"It'll feel nice, won't it, Rog? Stretch you out, fill you up, maybe leave a few marks so everyone knows you belong to me," he added, and Roger didn't even realize he'd relaxed until he felt a second finger pressing into him, slowly sinking into him to join the first, pressed in to the second knuckle.

Brian had such long fingers and Roger felt a little dizzy.

"I bet you'll want me to come in you as well," Brian murmured, and Roger felt his cock twitch, a new rush of arousal making him drip a bead of precum onto John's leg. "So you can see what you do to me, and so everyone sees you're mine. This pretty ass of yours leaking my cum would be a beautiful sight, isn't that right, Roger?"

Roger couldn't suppress his moan at the thought of Brian's cum leaking out of his ass, fucked out and marked up in possession. "Bri, please, I need you to fuck me," he panted.

"Not quite yet. We're getting to that," Brian said, smiling softly. "You're awfully tight and I don't want to hurt you."

"Maybe I want you to hurt me," Roger answered, hearing Freddie promptly laugh in response and feeling his fingers curl in Roger's hair again.

"Well, I'm willing to hurt you, but not like that," was Brian's response, but anything Roger had to say after that was lost in a moan as Brian pushed a third finger into him, the burn of the stretch now becoming apparent as Brian gave him some time to adjust and then began to fuck him with his fingers. It felt good to finally be filled up with something, but it just wasn't enough. He needed more; he needed to feel the burn of a cock splitting him open, nudging up against his prostate until he was on the verge of coming or crying or preferably both.

He just needed someone to fuck him senseless. Was that too much to ask for?

"Brian, I know you're busy," he dimly heard Freddie say through the haze fogging up his mind as he tried to rock back on Brian's fingers. "But if I don't get that pretty mouth of his around my cock in the next few moments, I simply won't survive the night."

"I'm actually in the middle of something right now. Wait your turn, Fred," Brian answered, sinking his fingers in a little deeper and curling them in a way that had Roger gasping into Freddie's thigh.

"Bri, please," he whined again, muffling another moan as Brian twisted his wrist, changing the angle of his fingers and somehow making Roger feel even more full, yet still not full enough. "Need you to fuck me."

"It's my turn now, Brian. You've been touching him for ages now. You're not the only one around here with needs."

Brian's fingers stilled as he focused on Freddie's words instead of Roger writhing under his touch, so Roger bit Freddie's thigh in protest.

Freddie didn't even seem to notice.

"Freddie, it's been all of five minutes," Brian said, exasperated.

"Five minutes too long," was Freddie's retort.

"Are you two really starting to fight when you've got your fingers up Roger's ass?" John asked, looking at Brian incredulously. "He's begging you to fuck him and you're too concerned about Freddie being greedy to even notice."

"I'm not-" Freddie began, but John shook his head.

"Save it. Brian, let Roger up."

With obvious reluctance, Brian pulled his fingers free. It was worse than having Brian's fingers motionless inside of him; now, Roger just felt terribly empty, a feeling he very much disliked when all he wanted was for someone to fuck him into the next century.

"Come on, Roger, get up," John said, pointedly nudging his side.

"Do I have to?"

"If you still want us to fuck you, then yes, you do."

Roger grumbled his protest, but with their help, he managed to roll off of them and stand up on shaky legs, wobbling a little unsteadily on his feet. His wrists and shoulders were already a little sore, but somehow it was a good kind of pain, blending seamlessly into his arousal. John stood up after him, bending over to push the table in front of the couch back some distance so that there was a sizable space in between.

"Brian, I want you to lie down there on your back," John said, pointing to the space on the floor between the couch and the table.

"What for?"

John rolled his eyes, as if he was utterly fed up by Brian daring to ask a question and not simply doing immediately what John had asked of him. "Because you and Freddie can't possibly comprehend the idea of sharing, I've come up with an idea to get both of you what you want at the same time. Now if you want any more of Roger, do as I ask, or I'll just decide to have him all to myself." He came up beside Roger as he spoke, placing an arm around his side and curling fingers around his hip, pulling Roger firmly against him.

Roger was entirely unashamed of the fact that he made his best attempt to turn so his body better faced John's so he could rut against his thigh, Roger being achingly hard and teetering on the brink of utter desperation.

His life was a rough one.

Brian finally complied, pushing himself off the couch and lowering himself to the floor, adjusting so he was lying down on his back, legs stretched straight out. "Like this?"

"That's perfect," John said. "Now, Roger, I want you to sit on his face."

Roger just blinked. "You what?"

"I want you to sit on Brian's face," John repeated.

"That's a brilliant idea, darling, but how exactly am I involved?" Freddie spoke up from his position on the couch, watching them with an eyebrow raised in question.

"You must be joking," Roger said, even though the mere thought of sitting on Brian's face had his thighs trembling. He could already imagine it: Brian's hands gripping the backs of his thighs, holding him in place; the flat of his tongue dragging against Roger's hole; the way it would feel when Brian finally pressed his tongue inside, fucking him with it in earnest until Roger was a sobbing mess.

He couldn't suppress a shudder at the thought, pressing his face into John's neck to hide the flush on his cheeks. In response, John tucked a brief kiss into Roger's hair and squeezed his hip.

"Roger, if it helps at all, I'm entirely on board with this idea," Brian said, sitting up from his position on the floor to tug his T-shirt over his head, reaching up and putting it aside on one of the couch cushions after it was off his body. "If you want to, I'm right here."

"Do you want to, Roger?" John asked him, fingers rubbing softly over his hip. "It's up to you."

Now that the idea had been planted in his mind, he couldn't get rid of the image of Brian underneath him, making Roger fall apart under the careful administrations of his tongue.

Roger pulled back slightly to look at John, their gazes meeting and sending a flush of warmth coursing through Roger's body. "I want to," he said with a firm nod. "I really want to."

"Then ask nicely, and you'll get what you want," John said, his hand drifting upwards to trail his fingers teasingly across Roger's side; the touch felt like it was leaving a burning hot trail over Roger's skin, needy as he was.

"Please, Daddy," Roger said, jutting his bottom lip out in his best pout, any hesitance in saying the words melting away at the sight of John's resulting pleased smile. "Let me sit on Brian's face. I think I've earned it."

"You're such a demanding little slut," John answered with a fond shake of his head. "Got us all wrapped around your finger, haven't you?"

Roger smiled brightly and leaned in to plant a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on John's cheek. John moved the hand on Roger's side around to the middle of his back, using it to gently nudge him toward Brian, who was back down on the floor, looking up at them expectantly. Roger felt a flutter of anticipation in his chest, doing his best to tamp it down as John helped guide him into position.

"Stand over him, right there," John instructed. "Then just kneel down. Do it slowly; I don't want you hurting yourself."

"You're fine with hurting me," Roger pointed out, to which Freddie snickered and John rolled his eyes.

"Did I not spank you enough earlier? Should I add a few more for good measure?" John countered, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

"No, Daddy. I'll be really, really good," Roger promised.

"That's what I thought."

Roger looked down at Brian and took a deep breath. Slowly, carefully, he eased himself down onto one knee and then the next, his hands being bound behind his back making it difficult not to lose his balance. Brian coaxed him through it the whole way, hands hovering near Roger's legs in case he started to stumble or fall.

When Roger finally got down on both knees, he didn't hesitate, sinking down onto Brian with a sigh. Almost immediately, Brian's hands came up around the backs of his thighs, attempting to hold him still and draw him in even closer. There was the gentle press of lips to his inner thigh, and then there was the warmth of Brian's breath over his hole.

And then Brian pressed his tongue against his hole, and Roger jerked so hard he nearly fell off of him.

"Are you alright, dear?" Freddie asked. When Roger lifted his head and met Freddie's gaze, Freddie's eyes were dark, his own lust reflected back at him. He looked hungry, the sight making Roger's cock twitch with the reminder of all the things he wanted Freddie to do to him.

"Yeah, I'm just—oh fuck, Bri—a little—oh god—overwhelmed," Roger panted. Once Brian had started, he'd apparently decided not to go easy on him, licking and sucking as though Roger was the best thing he'd ever tasted, eating him out like he was Brian's last bloody meal.

"A good overwhelmed, I assume," John said, still standing in front of the two of them, a knowing smirk on his face. "You look like you're having quite a good time."

"I am—ah, Bri—it's really good," Roger said, trying to silence the noises that spilled from his throat as he attempted to answer John, easily failing as the stimulation was obviously far too much for him to be quiet.

"Don't try to hide it, Roger. I want to hear how good you feel. I want to hear you falling apart for us. I want to know how easy you are, how we barely have to touch you before you're spreading your legs and moaning and begging us for more. I want to hear how much of a needy slut you are, how it always takes all three of us to satisfy you because you're so fucking filthy that just one is never enough. I know why when we fuck you there always has to be one of us fucking your mouth and the other your ass; because you like being used, you like the feeling of us taking you apart, you like getting both ends filled up with our cum. You're such a filthy whore, aren't you? Our dirty little girl."

Roger could feel heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, both from Brian's tongue and John's words, and he squirmed desperately, Brian digging his fingers into the backs of Roger's thighs to get him to stop, the sharp press of his nails making Roger hiss.

"Daddy," Roger whined, nearly choking on his words when he felt the tip of Brian's tongue pressing into his hole. "Please touch me, please, I'm so close," he begged, voice rising in pitch on the last word as Brian began to fuck him with his tongue. John stepped closer, bending down slightly so he was eye level with Roger.

"Is this what you want?" John asked, reaching out and wrapping his hand around Roger's cock, giving him a few too-rough strokes that had him pushing his hips forward into the touch nonetheless. "You want to come, Roger?"

"Please," Roger begged again, John's hand on his cock and Brian's mouth on his ass being all too much for him; he was standing precariously on the edge, the only thing preventing him from going over being the cock ring that Roger was beginning to hate. "Please let me come, it's too much!"

"Brian, stop for a moment," John said, pulling his hand away and straightening, taking a step back from the two of them and turning towards Freddie. Roger whined pitifully at the loss, starting to feel like he was going mad with arousal; his cock was almost steadily dripping precum, the head flushed pink. "Freddie, come over here."

"Finally," Freddie sighed dramatically, springing to his feet. "Here I was, thinking you were going to just torture me the entire time by making me sit and watch and not letting me have any fun."

"You just haven't got a bit of patience in you," John responded, a flicker of a smile appearing on his lips as Freddie approached, pulling him into a kiss once he was close enough.

"Don't I get a kiss too?" Roger complained, attempting his best pout again. When Freddie and John separated, John rolled his eyes in mock annoyance at Roger's complaint, while Freddie immediately turned and bent down to offer him a brief kiss, Roger humming happily as Freddie pressed their lips together. It was over too soon for Roger's liking, but in this state of desperation he would take what he could get.

"So, what's my part in all this?" Freddie asked once he'd pulled away from Roger and straightened, turning back to look at John curiously.

"Open your mouth, Roger," was all John said. Roger did so without protest, at least momentarily satisfied by the kiss he'd been granted. "A bit wider, if you could."

He opened his mouth even wider, sticking his tongue out unprompted, almost in invitation. John reached out and cupped Roger's chin in his hand, fingers stroking softly down Roger's skin for a brief moment before he pulled away again.

"Good girl," he said to Roger, who flushed pink at the praise. "I'm giving you what you wanted," he told Freddie, gesturing towards Roger's open mouth. "I want you to fuck his mouth." John leaned in and murmured something in Freddie's ear, voice too soft for Roger to hear, but from the way Freddie smiled and nodded, it had to be something good. Roger was in half a mind to complain that they were sharing secrets without him, but then Freddie was reaching for the button of his trousers and all other thoughts immediately went out the window.

"I've got no problem shutting Roger up for a bit," Freddie said, slowly tugging his zipper downwards once he'd popped his button open, Roger's eyes trained on that one small movement. Freddie noticed his gaze and paused, a smirk pulling at his lips. "But I think our darling girl should tell me exactly what she wants from me."

Freddie's gaze was boring into Roger's own as he spoke – it was a challenge.

Roger never backed down from a challenge.

He closed his mouth for a moment, licking his lips to wet them before he spoke. "I wanna suck your cock," he said. Freddie raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging him to go on. "Want you to make me choke on it. And then I want you to come on my face, 'cause I wanna be made yours. Then I wanna straddle your lap and ride you until you come in me. Are you gonna give me what I want?"

Freddie stepped closer, using his free hand to cup Roger's chin and tilt his head up slightly. Roger's lips parted as he looked up at Freddie, a breathless sigh leaving him at the sight; Freddie looked as though he was on the verge of ravaging him.

Roger wanted nothing more.

"Your wish is my command, kitten," Freddie murmured, letting go of Roger to take a step back and lower his zipper the rest of the way, pushing his trousers down and letting them pool at his ankles. Roger caught sight of the line of Freddie's erection through his briefs, the fabric doing very little to conceal it; he shuddered at the sight of Freddie's hard cock straining to be released, his briefs damp at the head with a spot of precum that Roger desperately wanted to taste.

Freddie stepped out of his trousers, pushing them away with his foot. His hands moved to the waistband of his briefs, hooking his thumbs underneath to slowly push them down, exposing tantalizing skin bit by bit until he pushed them all the way down to finally free his cock.

It wasn't like Roger had never seen it before, but god, every time he saw it he was still amazed by how big it was. Choking on it wouldn't be an impossible task, to say the least.

It was at that moment that Brian evidently decided it would be a good idea to resume his previous task, making Roger arch his back and cry out as Brian deftly opened him up with his lips and tongue.

"Fuck, Brian, please," Roger gasped, squirming and grinding down on Brian's face as best he could without suffocating him. Brian's response was to tighten his grip on Roger's thighs, his nails starting to leave scratches on the skin, making Roger moan as the best sort of pleasure-pain coursed through him.

Freddie tugged his briefs all the way down his legs and stepped out of them, putting them aside with his trousers. He took his cock in hand and gave it a few slow strokes before he stepped back up to Roger, who looked up at him eagerly.

"Are you ready for me, darling?"

"Aren't I always?" Roger answered, slightly more coherent now that Brian had stilled to keep Roger from choking once he did take Freddie's cock into his mouth.

"Well, you are the band slut," Freddie hummed in agreement. "And we wouldn't have it any other way."

With his free hand, Freddie reached out and stroked his thumb softly along Roger's bottom lip. In response, Roger opened his mouth as wide as he possibly could.

"That's perfect, kitten," Freddie murmured, smiling at the sight of Roger bound and waiting for him. "Such a good girl."

Carefully, he pushed into the warm, wet heat of Roger's mouth, groaning at the feeling and the sight of Roger's lips stretched wide around his shaft. He'd pushed in no more than halfway when he noticed Roger's eyes starting to water. In concern for Roger, he stopped, barely resisting the urge to continue when Roger whined around him and the sound traveled straight up his cock.

"Are you alright?"

He received a single nod in response. Roger's eyes were still watery, but they were also wide and pleading, as though he was begging Freddie to continue. "Shall I keep going?"

Another nod. So he pushed in a little bit more, but this time, Roger started to choke.

"Breathe for me, darling," he said, stilling immediately to give Roger the chance to recover.

"Take it easy, Roger. He's not going anywhere," John added, watching the scene in front of him from the couch with slight concern creasing his brow. "Don't hurt yourself."

"Yes, that's our job," Freddie said, glancing briefly at John, whose lips twitched into a small smile at the comment. He gave Freddie a minute nod, and Freddie turned his attention back to Roger. His eyes were still wet, a tear starting to run down his cheek, but he met Freddie's eyes and nodded again. Freddie pushed in a little bit more, pausing again to give Roger the chance to adjust.

"All the way in, Freddie. He can take it," John called. Roger nodded his agreement once more, unable to do much else since his hands were still bound tightly behind his back and his mouth was full.

"Are you sure?" Freddie asked him. For that, he received a single, firm nod. So he reached out, tangled his fingers in Roger's hair, and pushed his cock deeper into Roger's mouth until he was finally fully seated, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. "I could get used to seeing you like this, kitten," he said, to which Roger hummed his agreement, the vibrations sending a shiver down Freddie's spine. "My cock down your throat. I think you were made just for cocksucking. Just look at those lips and those big blue eyes... you're absolutely breathtaking, my dear. The prettiest thing I've ever seen; how lucky we are to have you."

Roger's cheeks were flushed red, his lips a reddening pink from being stretched tight around Freddie's cock. Spit was starting to escape from the corner of his mouth, trailing down towards his chin. His eyes were brimming with tears from the stretch and ache in his jaw, a few already spilling down his cheeks. His chest was shaking from the short breaths he was taking, cock hard and jutting up toward his chest, dripping and flushed pink with need. His thighs were trembling from the strain of holding himself up just above Brian, knees scraped red from kneeling on the cheap carpeting for so long.

He was simply stunning.

"Will you hold still for me, Roger? I want to see what that pretty mouth can do," Freddie said, tugging on the strands of Roger's hair between his fingers. He received another short nod in response, Roger flicking his gaze up to meet Freddie's, his eyes shining wetly in the light. "Good girl," Freddie murmured, earning another hum from Roger. "Our pretty little whore."

Freddie pulled back slightly, sliding his cock out of Roger's mouth almost entirely until just the tip was past Roger's lips. Then he pushed all the way back in, fighting a moan at the friction building warmth in the pit of his stomach. He repeated this movement and Roger's eyes fluttered shut, a moan spilling from his lips and making Freddie hiss at the shock of pleasure that resulted. He felt Roger's throat tighten around him as though he was trying not to choke, and he moved one hand from Roger's hair down to his cheek, stroking softly.

"Easy, darling," Freddie said, watching as Roger's eyes opened again, more tears clinging to his lashes as he looked up at Freddie. "Breathe for me. That's it, just like that. You're doing so well." Again, Freddie pulled out and pushed back in, speeding up a little once he decided Roger had adjusted to his pace, though fresh tears still spilled down his cheeks with each movement. Gradually, he sped up until the pace was almost brutal, groaning at the warmth of Roger's mouth around him as Roger drooled on his cock. Roger's eyes fell half-shut as Freddie fucked his mouth, body swaying with Freddie's movements, Brian's hands still clamped around his thighs and keeping him from falling over as Roger let himself focus only on the touches on his body.

And then Brian started licking into him again, and Roger's eyes shot open, back arching as pleasure burst white-hot up his spine. Freddie was still fucking into his mouth relentlessly, the pleasure-pain of the ache in his jaw and Freddie on his tongue combining with Brian's dexterous movements to make him shudder and shake. It was then that John inserted himself in the middle of the scene, standing and moving to Roger's side, placing a hand on each shoulder and gripping them tightly, keeping him just still enough for Freddie to make good use of him. Roger moaned helplessly, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations wracking his body. He wanted so badly to come, feeling as though he was just on the brink of it but knowing he'd only be left suspended with no relief, no matter how pretty he begged.

After what felt like an eternity, John moved to murmur something in Freddie's ear again, voice low and face carefully neutral so Roger wouldn't pick up on his words, although it seemed there wasn't much of a chance of Roger picking up on anything in his delirious state – they hadn't even fucked him yet and still he looked half-gone, flushed and needy and begging whenever his mouth wasn't full.

Freddie stilled to listen to John, nodding in agreement with whatever John told him. John stepped back and Freddie slowly pulled out of Roger's mouth again, pulling out entirely this time and also stepping back as if giving Roger some room to move. Roger did nothing but cough when Freddie pulled out, his throat feeling raw and fucked-out, a mixture of spit and tears drying on his face making him appear thoroughly debauched.

Kneeling there with his legs spread wide and his hands bound, eyes wet and lips swollen, Roger was the perfect picture of the band whore.

"Roger, get up for a moment, if you would. I need Brian up here," John said.

Roger had no intention of moving; his limbs felt heavy, as if there was some invisible force holding him down, and everything felt a little blurred at the edges of his vision. If he managed to stand up at all, it was very possible he'd end up falling on his face or knocking over Freddie or John and ruining the moment they were having.

So his response was a rough grumble and a firm shake of his head.

"Roger," John sighed, disapproval dripping from just that one word alone, and something like shame burned hot in Roger's veins for the briefest of moments.

And then there were arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him to his feet, freeing him from Brian's grasp even though Roger's limbs still refused to cooperate, unable to balance on his feet and forcing him to put most of his weight elsewhere. He made a show of noisily protesting being moved, even though the way John was dragging him about made another flash of arousal rush throughout his body. He let his head fall back against John's shoulder as John pulled him away from Brian, Roger piling all his weight onto the body solidly pressed against his back.

"You're such a brat, Roger," John said, sighing in frustration as he gripped Roger's body tight, preventing him from going anywhere as Brian got to his feet. "If I hadn't spanked you earlier, I would say you just earned yourself a dozen more."

"Promise?" Roger asked, voice a near rasp from having Freddie's cock shoved down his throat.

"Shall I make it two dozen?"

"Even better," was Roger's response, finishing his sentence with a pleased hum and turning his head to tuck his face into the curve of John's neck, mouthing absently at his skin.

"What am I going to do with you?" John asked with another sigh. He let Roger continue pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of his neck for another moment or two before loosening his grip on Roger's sides and nudging him towards Freddie. Roger again protested the movement, content just to have John's body pressed against his, but then Freddie wrapped his arm around Roger's side and pulled him close, and Roger all but melted.

"Hello, darling," Freddie purred, his face so close to Roger's that Roger would barely have to move to kiss him. He was distracted by movement out of the corner of his eye, his gaze moving down Freddie's body to pause at the sight of Freddie's hand wrapped around his cock, slick with precum and Roger's spit. "Don't look at me, dear; you should look at them."

His curiosity successfully provoked, Roger managed to tear his gaze away from Freddie's hand working over his cock and look in the direction Freddie was tilting his head, which revealed to him John and Brian kissing feverishly as if it was the last kiss they would ever receive. The sight was almost too much for Roger to bear, another rush of arousal making his legs tremble as he thought of where Brian's mouth had just been, watching how John was licking into Brian's mouth like he couldn't get enough of it.

Almost dizzy, he turned his attention back to Freddie and surged forward, closing the small gap between their faces with a desperate kiss. Freddie seemed surprised at first by the intensity of his kiss, but it didn't take long for Freddie to match him in fervor. Even with Freddie's lips covering his own and the heat of Freddie's body pressed against his, Roger couldn't help but whine into Freddie's mouth, because it still wasn't enough. He needed all of them, all at once, even if that was a desire impossible to fulfill. He wanted to feel them wrapped around him, their skin pressed against his, stretching him out and burning him up from the inside.

It felt like forever before Roger and Freddie separated; Roger's breath heavy and Freddie's lips twitching into a smirk as he watched Roger tremble and pant.

"Such a needy thing you are, hmm? It's alright; I know exactly what you need and I'm more than happy to give it to you."

Roger was so focused on the wicked curve of Freddie's lips that he didn't notice someone approaching him until he was being pulled away from Freddie, albeit gently, hands wrapping around his shoulders and pressing down, bringing him back down to his knees. A tremor went through him as those hands squeezed his shoulders once before disappearing, anticipation like lightning in his veins making him nearly jump as a voice spoke into his ear, the sound sweet in his blood, his body responding to that voice and the accompanying breath curling hot over his skin purely by instinct.

"Don't worry; we're not finished with you yet, Roger. In fact, we've only just begun."

A shaky breath left Roger's lips, anticipation thrumming through his veins as Freddie approached him, Roger lifting his head to force his gaze from the sight of Freddie's hand still wrapped around his cock up to Freddie looking down at him, that smirk still etched onto his face, dark with pleasure.

"Since you've been a good girl so far, I thought I would give you a choice," Freddie said. "I can keep fucking your mouth and come down your throat, or I can come all over that pretty face of yours. Which will it be?"

Roger felt fingers comb softly through his hair, leaning just slightly into the touch but not daring to take his eyes off Freddie, who was waiting expectantly for the words Roger desperately wanted to say but couldn't get out, his thoughts tangled into a jumbled, incoherent mess, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Tell him, Roger. It's alright," he heard someone say, soon realizing that voice belonged to Brian, somewhere behind him and unable to see Roger's face but yet somehow knowing the extent of the fight going on in Roger's head.

He swallowed and opened his mouth to speak.

"I want you to come all over my face," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "Please. I want you to come on me, wanna be marked up, wanna be ruined, please." There was desperation in his voice, climbing higher and higher as he went on, as Freddie watched him with that smirk growing wider and lust burning bright in his eyes. Roger didn't know how much more of this he could take; all this teasing with no relief, so desperate to come that it wouldn't take much longer for him to be reduced to a crying, begging mess at their feet.

He was already halfway there.

"I think that can be arranged," Freddie said, stepping even closer to Roger so he was standing directly over him, his hand starting to move over his cock again, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. "Are you going to be a good girl and take all my cum?"

"Yeah, I'll be so good," Roger promised. "I want it all, I want your cum so much."

"Show me," Freddie said, voice becoming strained as he stroked himself faster, obviously close to coming. "Show me how much you want it. Show me how good you're going to be. Show me how you're our little slut."

Roger managed again to tear his gaze away from Freddie's cock, letting his eyes travel up to Freddie's tight-clinging shirt accentuating every line of his body, and then farther up, up the curve of his neck to his flushed face, his parted lips, his lust-darkened eyes.

And then Roger opened his mouth as wide as he could, sticking his tongue out, eyes trained on Freddie's face as he waited expectantly for all that Freddie could possibly give him.

That was all that was necessary to finally tip Freddie over the edge, a groan of 'fuck' leaving his lips as he came, streaking white across Roger's face. He let the last few drops fall onto Roger's tongue, heaving a satisfied sigh as he stepped back to look at his work.

Roger closed his mouth to swallow down the cum that had landed on his tongue, humming softly at the taste. He poked his tongue back out a moment later to clean some of the sticky substance off his lips, although most of it had landed elsewhere; on his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, and other places, as he would soon discover.

"Freddie," Roger whined, sounding downright pitiful. "You got some in my eye!"

"Must you always be so dramatic?" Freddie said, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he moved to get the cloth he'd brought earlier from the side table. "You look beautiful, darling. Now hold still." He returned to Roger, using the cloth to carefully wipe away the cum that was near his eye. "Is that better?"

"What about the rest?"

"Give that a moment," Freddie answered, putting the cloth back on the side table and turning back to watch as John and Brian exchanged a look and then dropped to their knees on either side of Roger. "Close your eyes."

Still pursuing his quest to be relatively good for them, he did as he was asked. Nothing happened for a few moments, but then Roger nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt first one, and then two tongues lapping at his skin, following the sticky trails of cum on his face, licking up every drop they could. Roger shuddered at the sensation, his face growing warm as another surge of arousal spread throughout his body, feeling what had to be Brian and John's breaths fanning out hot over his skin.

All too soon, they pulled back, and Roger had to bite his lip to muffle a wordless protest. Freddie's voice returned to his ears, something like amusement in his tone. "Now open your eyes, Roger."

Again he did as he was told, his eyes flickering open to be greeted with the sight of Brian and John kissing only inches from his face. It was a hot, openmouthed kiss, angled just so that Roger could see something on John's tongue that he was pressing into Brian's mouth, and Brian was tilting his head and pressing it back into John's mouth with another kiss. It was a messy kiss, and Roger desperately wanted to be a part of it, a hunger eating at him upon the realization that what Brian and John were sharing between their open mouths was Freddie's cum.

Brian and John broke apart after a minute or two, and suddenly John was turning to him, reaching out to tug on Roger's hair and pull him into a kiss. Roger moaned into the insistent press of John's lips, allowing John to open his mouth and press the cum on his tongue into Roger's mouth, pulling away a second later to break the kiss.

"Swallow for me," John coaxed, his hand moving from Roger's hair to trail down his face, fingers brushing softly against his cheek and cupping his chin, resting his thumb on the reddened swell of Roger's bottom lip.

Roger was more than happy to obey John's order. The taste of Freddie lingered even after the cum was gone, but he didn't mind one bit.

"Good girl," John praised. "Doing exactly as you're told. Maybe we'll give you a little reward, would you like that?"

Roger's cheeks flushed a darker pink at the praise, and he gave a small nod, almost hyperaware of John's fingers on his skin, thumb so close to his mouth Roger could draw it in easily, suck on it for a while even though he'd prefer to suck on something else. "Yes, Daddy."

John took advantage of Roger's lips parting on the words to press the tip of his thumb into Roger's mouth, letting him close his mouth around it and suck softly. His gaze met John's while he sucked, and John's eyes were dark, as if he was imagining Roger's lips wrapped around something else, his mouth being put to good use. John pulled back after a few seconds, his eyes never leaving Roger's. The promise in those eyes made Roger shiver; how badly he wanted John to ravage him and leave him a wreck.

How badly he wanted all of them to ravage him and leave him a wreck.

"I suppose we really should get around to fucking him before he dies of frustration," Freddie commented, his eyes sweeping over Roger in a way that made Roger feel somehow more exposed than he already was.

"And I suppose you're right," John said, slowly climbing to his feet. Brian followed him, leaving Roger down on the floor with the three of them towering over him. In Roger's opinion, that really shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but it made him feel like they owned him, they controlled him, and he loved it.

"Who's going to fuck him first? Should we flip a coin?" Freddie teased, an amused half-smile on his lips. "Actually, that won't be necessary. I want him last."

"I want him first," Brian spoke up, causing John to turn to him with a raised eyebrow, as if waiting for an explanation for his words. "I want to stretch him out and open him up. I'll get him going… but then I want him again, after you're done with him," he said, nodding in Freddie's direction with his last sentence.

"You don't mean fucking him again, do you?" John asked. "I don't know if he could handle more than one round with each of us. He's halfway gone already."

"No, it's something other than fucking. You'll see."

"Fine by me, then," John said with a shrug. "Where do you want him?"

"On the couch."

Assuming that any attempt to ask Roger to get up would have the same result as before, John moved to stand behind Roger and bent over to wrap his arms around Roger's waist and pull him to his feet. Just as before, Roger protested the act of being moved, whining and squirming in John's grasp. John planted his feet to keep from dropping him and then lifted one hand to grab Roger's hair, tangling his fingers in it to yank Roger's head back. Roger yelped, but still John didn't let go, pressing lips close to his ear.

"Do you want us to fuck you or not?" John hissed. When all he received in response was another whine, he pulled harder, this time eliciting a moan from Roger's lips. "Answer me."

"I do! I do, please, I'm sorry," Roger finally cried, unable to hold out any longer. Tears sprung to his eyes again, both from the pain of John pulling on his hair mercilessly and from the humiliation of having to beg to get what he wanted, even if only in front of the three people who would give him the world if he asked for it.

"Then behave. Or I won't hesitate to leave you like this."

He let go of Roger's hair, pulling back to wind that arm around Roger's waist again. Roger did his best to blink away his tears, watching as Brian walked over to Freddie, murmuring something in his ear Roger couldn't hear. Whatever it was, it got Freddie to approach Roger, looking at him with concern clear as day on his face. Roger flushed red and barely resisted the urge to find a way to hide his face in John's neck; he was fine, this was all part of the fun, couldn't Freddie see that?

"Are you alright, darling?" Freddie asked him.

"Uh-huh, I'm fine," he said. Still, Freddie didn't seem convinced, reaching behind Roger to grasp at the lacy knickers that were keeping his hands bound. "Freddie, I'm fine!" he repeated, the sentence coming out as more of a whine than he intended.

"Roger," John said, a warning clear in his voice just from the way Roger's name fell off his lips. Roger huffed a sigh in response but didn't say anything more, letting Freddie continue whatever it was he was doing – which was apparently untying him, as his arms were no longer drawn taut behind his back, instead just hanging loosely at his sides as Freddie pulled back with fabric bunched in his hand.

Roger didn't want to be untied. Even though his shoulders were a little sore and his arms felt stiff, the pain was good; pleasurable, even. He never felt more like he belonged than when they were doing this; treating him like a slut, using him, accepting all his needs and desires without fail, going so far as to humor them, even the weird ones. If they tied his hands up and put a hand on the nape of his neck and held him like they owned him, everything else would just melt away.

So maybe he wanted to feel owned for a little longer.

But he didn't say anything as Freddie's eyes roamed over him, lingering over the red lines on his wrists from where the fabric had dug in a little when he'd made a show of struggling to get out of his bounds.

Finally, Freddie stepped back into his space, so close that his breath was warm over Roger's cheeks, so close that Roger could stick his chin out and purse his lips and they would just barely brush over Freddie's. But instead of giving him a kiss, like Roger hoped he would, Freddie spoke.

"This will only take a second," he said, and then he was looking down and reaching for Roger's hand, fingers curling softly around Roger's wrist. Roger offered his other hand too, just in case.

And then Roger was looking down too, their foreheads brushing as he studied what Freddie was doing. He was winding the fabric of the knickers around Roger's wrists again, just as he had done before, but this time Roger's arms would be bound in front of his body rather than behind it. Roger watched silently as Freddie made a knot and tightened it, tugging experimentally at the fabric after he did so, seemingly satisfied with the makeshift cuffs.

There was a pause, and then Freddie was lifting Roger's bound hands to his mouth, kissing the back of each one with a featherlight touch. He lifted his head as he let go of Roger's hands, and Roger followed, like he always would. Their eyes met, and Freddie was staring at him like he was waiting for his last meal.

Roger's lips parted on a soft exhale. "Please," he whispered, not quite knowing what he was even asking for.

Freddie leaned in to kiss him, surprisingly soft, as if he was just trying to get Roger worked up; it was obvious Roger needed more than just a gentle kiss, but every time he tried to deepen it, Freddie would hold back and not reciprocate.

It was more frustrating than anything else, and Roger had to bite his lip to avoid breaking into an annoyed pout when Freddie finally broke the kiss. The corner of Freddie's lips turned up as he looked at Roger, as if Roger's struggle was playing out openly on his face.

"Don't worry, darling. You'll get what you need," he said. He turned to look over his shoulder at Brian, an eyebrow raised in question. "Do you want to get him ready?"

"Of course I do," Brian answered, and when Freddie stepped far enough aside that Roger could see him fully, Brian was making quick work of his trousers. Roger's eyes were glued to every movement of his hands, shivering as he remembered how those deft fingers had been inside him only minutes earlier, stretching him out and fucking into him until he had been on the verge of desperate tears.

He watched as Brian pulled down his zipper and then popped open the button, hissing softly as his hand brushed over his erection straining the fabric of his briefs when he pushed his trousers down. Brian stepped out of his trousers and nudged them to the side with his foot, and then he was reaching for his briefs, and Roger swore his mouth watered when Brian hooked his thumbs under the waistband and tugged them down to reveal his cock, hard and glistening at the tip.

If the situation had been different, if he wasn't sure he would absolutely die if he didn't get fucked in the next five minutes, he would have dropped to his knees in front of Brian and swallowed him down, taking his cock as far down his throat as he could and sucking him off until Brian was swearing and moaning and coming hot on his tongue.

But tonight, that was an activity that was up to them and not him, and from the way Brian had hurriedly taken his trousers off and the way John's cock was hard against his ass, they seemed just as impatient to get to the fucking as he was.

Brian kicked his briefs to the side with his trousers, then walked over to the couch and pulled his shirt off the cushion from where he'd deposited it previously, tossing it in the pile with his trousers. And then he was turning to face Roger, gaze settling heavily on his naked form, as if he was already fucking Roger in his mind.

John helped Roger over to the couch, laying him down with Brian's instruction. His head was propped up against the arm of the couch, pillows tossed aside to make room for his body. And then John was pulling away, stepping back and leaving him completely at Brian's mercy.

Roger tilted his head up to find Brian's eyes again, and staring into their dark depths, he let his legs fall open in invitation.

"Is our little girl ready for me?" Brian asked, reaching for the container of lube on the side table. Roger nodded, almost breathless with anticipation. It felt like he'd been wearing the bloody cock ring for hours, his arousal peaking and blending into desperation until he ended up frustrated and whining and begging until he got what he wanted.

"I'm afraid I can't hear you," Brian added when Roger gave no verbal response, looking over his splayed form on the couch whilst carefully coating his fingers in lube as if he hadn't stretched Roger out previously.

"Yes, Bri, I'm ready, please just fuck me already. I need your cock in me so bad, I need you to fill me up," Roger whined, squirming a little bit on the couch. God, it would be so much easier if his hands weren't bound, he could just take off that stupid cock ring and get himself off – and maybe pin Brian to the couch and ride him, instead of lying there, waiting for Brian to stop taking his sweet time doing who knew what with the lube.

"I do love it when you beg for me like the needy whore you are, but I'm not fucking you yet," Brian said. Roger grumbled his disappointment and settled into a frown, but then Brian was hovering over him, half-kneeling on the couch. One of Roger's legs was hanging off the edge of the couch, and Brian pushed the other one back until his knee was flush with his chest, and then he pressed one lube-slick finger into Roger, encountering little resistance and burying himself to the knuckle almost immediately.

"Bri," Roger cried at the touch, needy to the point that even just one of Brian's slender fingers pressing up inside of him felt like so much more, but still not enough to satisfy him.

"I've got you," Brian murmured, watching Roger writhe and flush pink as he pressed another finger inside him and spread the two apart for a better stretch. Roger moaned helplessly as Brian started to fuck him with those two fingers, sharp little thrusts that were angled just so, just enough to hit that spot that had Roger pressing his hips up and choking on a sob.

"Please, Bri, I need it, oh fuck," Roger moaned, voice rising a little on the last word as Brian pressed a third finger into him and curled his fingers, and Roger felt like he was on fire, every nerve ending in his body crying out for more as Brian stretched him open.

"Please, I can't take it anymore, I need you to fuck me," Roger begged, so overwhelmed by the stimulation that a tear started to run down his cheek. Finally, Brian pulled his fingers free, leaving Roger feeling horribly empty and wishing even more that Brian would just bury his cock in him already.

"You need me to fuck you, hmm?" Brian asked, hovering over Roger still, his hands resting on the inside of Roger's thighs. He was making no attempt to get his cock inside of Roger though, much to Roger's displeasure.

Roger nodded again, still trying to catch his breath from when he'd been doing his best to fuck himself on Brian's fingers, as fruitless as that had been; he was left entirely unsatisfied, because it was nothing compared to having Brian propped up above him, moaning and panting as he fucked into Roger, Roger's legs wrapped around his waist to press him in deeper, Brian rocking into him until he stilled with a moan of Roger's name, coming hot and wet inside him, filling him up to the brim.

"Tell me," Brian said, pulling his hands back from Roger's thighs, instead placing them on either side of Roger's hips. When all he received in return was a confused look, he continued. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you right now. I want to hear everything. Don't hold back."

Roger looked at Brian's face above him, his skin a little flushed and his eyes dark, his bottom lip drawn into his mouth in what looked like concentration. Roger let his gaze wander farther, down the pale column of Brian's neck that he wanted to suck a few marks into, down to the lean curve of his shoulders and his long arms. His gaze lingered on those hands that Roger loved to see wrapped around his cock, those fingers that Roger loved to feel sinking into him, one at a time until he couldn't take any more teasing, any more waiting; even though they were currently merely resting on the sides of his hips, he could still feel the ghost of those fingers curling inside him.

He forced himself to move on, eyes wandering down the expanse of Brian's chest, the planes of which he'd mapped out a dozen times with his tongue but he still had yet to get tired of; every curve and arch he knew intimately, every spot he knew would get Brian gasping and grasping at his hair still familiar. Down his eyes traveled to Brian's hipbones, the small divots he liked to sink his teeth into and then lap over the fresh marks until Brian was pleading for him to move onto his favorite part.

Brian's cock. Thicker than it was long, it always filled Roger up nicely; whether he was taking it down his throat or sinking down on it, he always felt stretched out and full as he worked to bring Brian to the edge, curling his tongue around its length when it was filling his mouth, or planting his feet underneath him and rolling his hips when he was riding it. Eventually he would let Brian use him as he pleased until Brian came, fingers tugging at his hair as he fucked Roger's mouth, the speed of his thrusts increasing as he grew closer until his hips stuttered and he groaned out his release. Roger would swallow down everything Brian gave him. And when Roger was riding him, he would let Brian grab his hips and fuck him down on his cock, Roger rocking into every thrust until finally Brian stilled, filling Roger up with his cum.

Roger stared for several seconds at Brian's cock, hard and curving up towards his stomach, the head a light shade of pink and starting to drip precum. Moving lower, he eyed the curve of Brian's ass and his spread thighs, his legs fitting perfectly into the gap of Roger's spread legs.

Roger knew exactly what he wanted.

He returned his gaze to Brian's face, the corner of Brian's lips now turned up in a smirk because Roger hadn't been very subtle in his examination. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to just use me to get off and I want to feel it later. I want you to fuck me until you come deep inside me. And," Roger paused, searching for the words that would get him everything he wanted. "I want to feel it dripping out of me and know that I'm yours."

He felt his cheeks heating up a little as the words spilled from his lips; he was in no way a prude, but there was something about being made to admit what he wanted—particularly when the person of interest was only inches above him—that made something burn hot in his chest.

Brian leaned forward and reached over Roger's body for the container of lube, quickly applying a layer of it to his cock even though Roger had decided he was already prepped enough. But before he even had a chance to complain about Brian wasting time, Brian was putting the container back down and reaching for Roger's leg, bringing it up so that Roger's ankle hooked over his shoulder. The angle made the back of Roger's thigh burn a little with the stretch, but he certainly wasn't going to complain; he'd be quite happy if his thighs hurt tomorrow. And then Brian was pushing his hips forward, the head of his cock pressing against Roger's entrance, and Roger eagerly waited for Brian to push into him until his hips were flush with Roger's ass and they were both moaning at the feeling.

But Brian didn't move, didn't push into him, and any attempts Roger made to squirm around and get Brian's cock to slip into him were unsuccessful.

"Bri," Roger whined, his earlier frustration quickly returning. "Stop being a bloody tease!"

Brian smiled, something like a short laugh escaping him. "Not to worry, I promise I'll take care of you. But," he paused, and in the seconds of silence that followed, Roger's irritation only grew, "I'd like to hear you ask nicely for it. You're very pretty when you ask so sweet."

Roger could have killed him.

His mind fogged with the desperate need for someoneto fuck him immediately, he bit out the only thought that came to him in those few short moments when Brian's request was still lingering in the space between them.

"Fuck me, Daddy," Roger sobbed, even though he'd never before dared to breathe that name to anyone in their relationship besides John.

"Even better," Brian murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of Roger's heart pounding as Brian finally pushed into him, so slow that the drag of Brian's cock inside him had Roger choking on his breath, a gasp caught in his throat as Brian finally bottomed out. With Roger's leg bent over his shoulder and his body flush with Roger's, Brian could go deeper than it seemed he ever had before, and Roger felt so full and it felt so good.

"Christ, you're tight," Brian said as he pulled back about halfway, Roger moaning at every slight movement made. "You feel so good around my cock, Rog."

"I know," Roger panted, offering Brian his best smirk when their gazes locked. For that, Brian gave a sharp thrust that nearly made Roger shriek, knocking him back against the arm of the couch. "Like that, Bri," he said once he managed to catch his breath. "Fuck me like you mean it."

That was all Brian needed to let go of any pretense of teasing, his fingers pressing punishingly tight into the skin of Roger's hips as he started up a rough, quick pace, pulling out and slamming back in, hardly giving Roger a chance to breathe or adjust. Roger wasn't shy in expressing his pleasure, moaning and whining as Brian rocked into him, his whines increasing in pitch when Brian changed the angle of his body so that Brian's chest brushed against Roger's sensitive cock with every thrust.

Roger breathed out a sigh as he tilted his head down to watch Brian's cock moving in and out of him, pressing in deep and pulling back almost completely, then filling him again. He was surrounded by Brian; his cock buried inside him, one of Roger's legs up on his shoulder and the other wrapped around his waist, his fingers pressing bruises onto Roger's skin, Brian's chest brushing against his body over and over again, his face just above Roger's chest so that when Roger managed to tear his eyes away from where they were joined, he got to watch every expression crossing Brian's face.

He saw every drop of sweat beading up on Brian's skin; he watched Brian's mouth fall open slightly to breathe out every moan and sigh; he saw Brian's eyes move to meet his, full of a lust and hunger that Roger felt down to his core.

Roger dug in the heel that was pressing into the curve of Brian's lower back, hoping to spur him further, but he was rewarded with the opposite effect as Brian slowed down and eventually came to a complete stop, his chest heaving.

"Why'd you stop?" Roger complained, already missing the torturously pleasurable friction against his cock and the feeling of Brian's cock pumping into him.

"I don't want to come so soon," Brian said, still a little breathless as he sat back slightly and looked at Roger.

"But maybe I want you to come," Roger whined, more than just a little frustrated. "Come on Daddy, I've been a good girl. Please give me your cum," he said, overtly batting his eyelashes and giving Brian his best attempt at a sexy pout.

"Jesus Christ, Roger, if you keep talking like that I will come too soon," Brian groaned, moving one hand from Roger's hip and using it to smack his ass lightly in mock punishment. Of course, Roger took that as encouragement to keep going.

"Oh please please please Daddy, I've been waiting so long for your cum," Roger sighed dramatically. "I might just die without it. You can't possibly let your little girl die such a cruel death!"

"And of course, you had to go and ruin it," Brian sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment as audible snickers came from Freddie and John, who'd been watching the pair closely.

"I ruin nothing. I only make everything better," Roger informed him. "But I'm serious; you'd better come in me. I meant it when I said I want to feel it dripping out of me," he added, pointedly tapping Brian's lower back with his heel again. "Come on, Daddy. Fuck me. Give me everything you've got."

"You're certainly going to be the death of me," Brian said. Still, Roger got what he wanted, as Brian sank his cock back in, his thrusts slower this time so Roger could feel every slow drag and sharp press, arousal burning hot underneath his skin. Brian's hands moved back to Roger's hips, and this time it felt like Brian was pulling Roger down on him instead of doing all the work himself, everything feeling a little more intense as a result. Brian's cock was pressing right up into his most sensitive spot with every long, slow thrust, and if Roger hadn't been stuck wearing that bloody cock ring he could've come from that alone.

Roger knew Brian was close; he felt it in the way Brian's thrusts were getting shorter and sloppier, heard it in the way Brian's moans increased as he chased his orgasm, becoming even more vocal than Roger was.

Roger decided that if he himself couldn't come yet, then he'd help Brian along.

"Gonna come in me, Daddy? Gonna fill me up? I know you're almost there; give it all to me, make your little girl feel good. Make me yours, Daddy. You know how pretty I'd look with your cum all over me," Roger whispered. Brian moaned out an unintelligible response, his thrusts getting even shorter; he was so close.

Roger knew just what to say to tip him over the edge.

"Let me be your cumslut," he added in another low whisper, watching Brian's eyes darken further at his comment.

"Fuck," Brian groaned, giving one last thrust so he was buried in Roger's ass as deeply as possible before he came, Roger whining softly in pleasure at the hot rush inside him.

Brian dropped his head down against Roger's chest briefly, breathing heavily as he came down from his intense high. Their bodies were still tangled together and Brian had yet to pull out, but he made no attempt to move for the next few moments.

"Bri," Roger called, and when Brian looked up, Roger was pursing his lips in his way of asking for a kiss. Brian smiled and leaned in, pressing their lips together in a surprisingly soft, slow kiss.

Roger sighed when they broke apart, content if only for the moment. Brian finally moved, hissing softly as he pulled out slowly, already much too sensitive for the tight confines of Roger's ass. A trickle of cum followed his exit, a drop trailing down Roger's ass before soaking into the fabric of the couch cushion beneath him as Brian gently moved Roger's body in order to detangle Roger's legs from around his own body.

He stood up, and Roger shifted slightly, making his best attempt to sit up despite his bound hands preventing him from getting any real leverage. Drawing his legs up to his chest, he was acutely aware of the trail of cum on his skin.

"Daddy," Roger gasped in mock horror, "You made a mess!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get cleaned up later," Brian said, a smirk tugging on his lips like he knew something Roger didn't.

"Tease," Roger huffed, choosing to turn his attention from Brian to John and Freddie. And what a sight they were; John was standing directly behind Freddie, chest pressed to his back and a hand wrapped around Freddie's cock, stroking slowly. It was clear they'd been getting off on Brian fucking Roger, and from the way Freddie was trembling and moaning, he was close. Roger listened to the sweet sounds leaving Freddie's lips, little whines and gasps as John quickened his strokes and murmured encouragement in Freddie's ear.

Roger watched with rapt interest as a sharp gasp left Freddie's mouth and he was shaking as he came, filling John's palm with sticky strands of cum and spurting hot over his fingers. With his free hand, John turned Freddie's head toward him and kissed him deeply in reward, swallowing Freddie's satisfied sigh as he licked into Freddie's mouth.

All too soon, he was pulling away, kissing Freddie lightly one last time before he stepped away, leaving Freddie unsteady on his feet as John crossed over to the couch, stopping in front of Roger and holding his cum-sticky hand out in front of Roger's face. Roger didn't do anything at first, merely staring blankly at John's hand. After a few seconds, John sighed, almost irritated by Roger's failure to understand what he wanted.

"You want to be our cumslut, don't you? Then be a good girl and clean this up. And don't miss a single drop," John said, pressing his hand in a little closer to Roger's face.

Roger didn't need to be asked twice, leaning in as best as he could and sucking John's index finger into his mouth, licking up every drop of Freddie's cum from that finger. When he pulled away, John's finger was coated in nothing but his spit. Roger moved onto John's middle finger, sucking it into his mouth and carefully running his tongue over it until it was clean, the taste of Freddie strong on his tongue. He cleaned John's ring finger and pinky the same way, lavishing attention on the calluses John had earned from all that time spent with his bass. Strings of saliva connected John's fingers when Roger pulled back from his pinky, and Roger briefly imagined those fingers pressing into his hole, slick with his spit and Brian's cum. A shudder went through him at the thought as he took John's thumb into his mouth, biting lightly at his skin before Roger moved his lips lower, lapping up the strands of cum on John's thumb.

When all of John's fingers were clean, Roger moved on to John's palm, dragging his tongue over every contour and ridge as he licked up Freddie's cum, leaving no inch of skin untouched. When there was nothing else left for him to take, he swallowed down the contents in his mouth, pressing his lips to the center of John's palm afterward and looking up at him for approval.

Sure enough, there was a pleased smile on John's face. "Good girl," he praised, his words sparking warmth in Roger's chest as Roger turned his head slightly to press his cheek against John's palm appreciatively. "Such a good little slut you are. I can't wait to fuck you and give you my cum. But that won't be enough for you, will it? You're such a greedy slut that you need three different loads dripping out of your pretty ass before you're satisfied. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Daddy," Roger hummed, pressing his lips to John's skin again, this time kissing the junction where his thumb met his palm. John's thumb stroked over Roger's cheek softly, Roger's eyes fluttering closed at the touch.

"Our little girl," John breathed. "You know I love you, don't you?"

Roger's eyes opened, confusion settling upon his features. "Of course I do. Why?"

"Because," John said, pressing the tip of his thumb lightly against Roger's lips, "I'm about to ruin you."

And then he was pulling his hand back and tugging Roger off the couch, Roger making an entirely undignified squeak as John pushed him around, nudging him forward until he was standing behind the back of the couch, and then John was tangling fingers in his hair and using that grip to bend Roger over the back of the couch, giving him only a bit of relief by rearranging his body so that his arms hung over the back instead of being pinned in between the back and his chest.

"Spread your legs," John ordered. "As wide as you can. I want to see that cum dripping out of you."

Roger wasted no time in doing as John asked, spreading his legs as wide as he could without losing his balance, shivering at how exposed he felt and the cool air against his heated skin.

For a while, Roger heard and felt nothing more, and he started to wonder if it was some kind of punishment, to be left alone bent over the back of this couch, naked and completely exposed to the rest of them. With his head down, he saw nothing but the couch cushions, and he wondered if Brian and Freddie were even still in the room; he couldn't hear them either.

Just when he was starting to genuinely worry, there was a rustling behind him; unbeknownst to him, it was the sound of John removing his clothes, first his shirt and then his overly-tight trousers, which were even harder to remove with John's cock straining to be freed. After a few minutes of struggling, he was finally able to remove them and kick them to the side, his briefs quickly joining the pile.

And then John was returning to his place behind Roger's body, Roger nearly jumping when he felt John's fingers following the small trail of cum that had leaked down the back of his thigh, collecting the liquid on the tips of his fingers and following the trail back up to Roger's hole, sinking two fingers into him at once to push the cum back into his ass.

"Oh my god, Daddy," Roger gasped as John's fingers slipped in easily, his hole still a little fucked open from when Brian had used him, slick enough with Brian's cum that Roger felt no pain at all when John pressed those fingers into him. John pulled them out after a minute, shifting closer to press his cock into the space between Roger's cheeks and folding himself over Roger's body to murmur low in his ear.

"Keep all of that inside you," he said. "If you're successful, I'll give you a little something and add to it. If you leak even the smallest drop, I'll put you over my lap and spank you another twenty times, and you won't get to come tonight. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Daddy," Roger said, inhaling shakily as John pushed his hips forward, rubbing his cock over Roger's hole but making no attempt to push inside. He fought the urge to push back against John, wanting so badly to be good for him so he'd get what he wanted; John was the most likely out of the three to truly fuck him senseless.

"Don't disappoint me," John added.

"I won't let you down, I'll be so good," Roger breathed as John pulled back, starting to reach for the container of lube. He paused when he heard Roger's words, reaching out to pinch Roger's ass roughly, Roger yelping in pain as a red mark quickly began forming on his cheek.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"I'll be so good, Daddy," Roger corrected himself quickly. "I'm sorry, Daddy, please forgive me."

"Don't mess up again," John warned him, picking up the container of lube from the side table and scooping some out with his fingers, hastily applying it to his cock. He didn't know how much longer he could resist the sight of Roger bent over and spread open for him, begging so pretty and doing his best to be a good girl.

John put the container of lube back down on the side table and pressed himself flush against Roger again, tugging on his hips to line his hole up with the head of John's cock.

"Beg for me," John said, taking one hand off of Roger's hips to fit his hand between their bodies and grasp his cock, teasingly dragging the head up and down the space between his cheeks, making Roger moan softly. "Come on; tell me why I should fuck you."

Roger was so desperate and quickly falling further under that it was a struggle trying to find words at all. "Because I wanna feel you," he breathed finally, shaking under John's touch. "You're right, Daddy, one load isn't enough; I need your cum too, I need you to make a mess of me, I need you to fuck me so hard that it hurts tomorrow. I wanna feel you wreck me; please, Daddy."

"You've got such a dirty mouth, baby girl," John murmured. "Such a naughty little thing you are."

And then he was taking his hand off Roger's hip, letting just the tip of his cock press inside Roger as John bent over him again, one hand gripping the base of his cock and the other seeking out Roger's mouth, pressing two fingers to his lips.

"Suck on Daddy's fingers for me," John coaxed. Roger opened his mouth, letting John press his fingers in down to the last knuckle, muffling the moan that spilled from Roger's lips as John pushed his cock in deeper, settling the hand that had been wrapped around his cock on the curve of Roger's ass, using it as leverage as he bottomed out. He pressed his lips to Roger's shoulder, whispering his praise into the surface of his skin.

"That's a good girl. Look at you, taking Daddy's cock so well. Such a slut for Daddy, aren't you?"

Roger's moaned response was unintelligible, unable to actually form words with John's fingers silencing him. He let his tongue run over the length of John's fingers, starting to suck on them in earnest as John's free hand curled around his hip, fingertips pressing into the slight dip in his skin.

Slowly, John pulled out about halfway and pushed back in, a moan of his own falling from his lips at Roger's tight heat, clenching around him as John started up a pace that was close to mere teasing; pulling out nearly all the way, so slowly it was almost unbearable even for him, and pushing back in just as slowly. This way, he could feel everything; the trembling of Roger's body as John touched him, the pleasure sparking up his spine at the friction of slowly pressing into him, the way Roger's lips were stretched taut around his fingers.

"So pretty like this," John said, lips brushing softly over the curve of Roger's shoulder. "Our pretty girl. Our pretty little slut," he added, and Roger whined around his fingers, high-pitched and needy.

John started to fuck into him a little faster, chasing the warmth building in the pit of his stomach. He reveled in the sweet noises coming from Roger's mouth with every thrust, little moans and gasps and whimpers as the force of John's thrusts pushed him up against the couch, his cock trapped between his body and the back of the couch, rubbing against the fabric with every movement.

John paused briefly in his thrusts to pull his fingers from Roger's mouth, standing up from where he'd been bent over Roger's body to trail that hand slowly down Roger's chest, so slow he could feel it rise and fall under his fingertips. Lower and lower he moved, down the sharp, flat plane of Roger's stomach, pausing at the spot between his hipbones, just above his cock.

Roger's mouth was still hanging open despite no longer being filled, lips reddened and his cheeks tinted pink. A louder whine spilled out of him when John pressed his palm flat against his skin, using it to press Roger's body closer to his, his cock pressing in even deeper, the head nudging up against the spot that would easily turn Roger into a desperate mess.

His fingers still slick with Roger's spit, he moved his hand lower, fingertips brushing against the base of Roger's cock and the cold metal ring around it. Roger nearly jerked out of his grip at the touch, making John shift his weight to better pin Roger down against the couch so there was no chance of him going anywhere.

"Do you want to come?" John asked him, his hand moving just a little bit lower to grasp Roger's cock, stroking it slowly a few times, letting Roger's spit lubricate his movements. The only response Roger gave was a moan, doing his best to press into John's touch, as torturous as it was.

"Answer me," John pressed, squeezing Roger's hip possessively. "You want to be a good girl for Daddy, don't you?"

"I wanna be good," Roger answered, stumbling on his words a little; there was just something about the way John touched him that always had him slipping under so easy, something about the edge in John's voice that always made him so compliant, so much faster than Brian or Freddie could get him there. "And I wanna come, please, Daddy."

"I know, I know. You're trying so hard to be good for me, pretty girl," John murmured, enjoying Roger's soft whimper as John gave his cock a few more strokes. "Maybe I'll let you come. But it won't be until we've all used you, until you're filled up with our cum; that's what you need to come, isn't it, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy," Roger breathed. John smiled, pleased at how receptive Roger was being, how there was absolutely no hesitation in his answers.

"I'm going to fuck you," John said. "And I want to hear you. I want you to be loud for me. I want to hear how good you feel when I fuck you, when I come in you. Show me just how much of a slut you are for Daddy's cock. Can you do that for me?"

Roger nodded fervently, a sigh leaving his lips as John stroked his cock a few more times, pulling out slightly this time. "Say it," John reminded him, squeezing his hip once more.

"I'll do anything you want, Daddy," Roger promised.

"What are you?"

"A slut."

"A slut for what?"

"A slut for your cock."

"Whose slut are you?"

"Yours," Roger said, shivering slightly when he felt the gentle press of John's lips to the curve of his spine thereafter.

"Good girl," John praised. "Now, tell me; whose cock is this?" he asked, giving Roger's cock another slow stroke, making Roger choke out a moan when John pressed his fingertips to his length just so before he could respond.

"Yours, Daddy."

"And whose ass is this?" John asked, his hand disappearing from Roger's hip to land a light smack to one of Roger's cheeks, making Roger squeak in surprise at the unexpected touch.

"Yours."

John hummed his approval, straightening up to look at the flushed expanse of Roger's back, laid out bare before him like an artist's fresh canvas. He moved his hand to the space between Roger's cheeks, pressing his fingers in to part them more to look at his cock stretching out Roger's hole, slick with lube and cum.

He pushed back in all the way and listened to the sweet sound of Roger's moan.

"Whose body is this?" John asked, moving his hand back to its previous resting place on the curve of Roger's hip.

"It's yours, Daddy."

"What should I do with it, then?"

"Everything," Roger insisted, pushing back on John as if it would bury his cock deeper in Roger's ass. John huffed a short laugh, watching Roger helplessly try to fuck himself down on John's cock, a task that was impossible when he was mostly pinned to the couch.

"Naughty girl," he said with an amused shake of his head. "You need more of Daddy's cock? Need Daddy to wreck you?"

"Yes, please, Daddy," Roger whined, starting to sound more petulant than sexy, but if Roger called him Daddy, that was enough to make John give him whatever he wanted.

"I think I've been going too easy on you, pretty girl," John said. "Going slow, taking my time. Letting you beg and try to take control. But you're not in control here, are you?"

Roger sighed, his breath shuddering. "No, Daddy."

"So who's the one in control?"

"You are, Daddy."

"That's right. And if I'm in control, and this pretty little ass is mine… then I'm going to take what's mine," John said. He lowered his voice, bending over Roger's body again to press his mouth against the curve of Roger's ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll be sore tomorrow," he promised. "Leave marks on you so everyone knows how much of a dirty slut you are for me."

"Please," Roger begged again. John straightened, pulling his hand from Roger's cock to grip Roger's other hip, getting better leverage to fuck him.

He wasted no time being gentle, immediately starting up a rough pace, pulling out and slamming back in hard enough to knock Roger's body against the couch. Everyone besides himself and Roger had already gotten to come; Brian once and Freddie twice, and there was no way John could wait any longer for his own release. Roger's hole was tight and hot around his cock, the friction as John slammed into him making pleasure burn hot within his veins. Roger was doing just as he'd been asked, moaning and panting and whining loudly every time John fucked into him, every time John's harder thrusts pressed into his most sensitive spot.

Roger was squirming, doing his best to spread his legs even wider so John could get deeper, and John knew he was close to coming.

"You want Daddy to come in you?" John asked, making no attempt to slow down his thrusts even though he was getting closer and closer by the second, fingers pressing tightly against Roger's hips as he fucked into him. "You want to feel Daddy's cum filling you up?"

"Please, please Daddy, come in me," Roger panted, again trying to push himself back on John's cock, pressing up on his toes to change the angle of John's thrusts, his calves burning and legs shaking as he held himself up.

It took a few more thrusts and another hitched whine from Roger before John was coming, slamming into Roger one more time with a groan, John's chest heaving as his cum spilled inside him.

"Mmm," Roger sighed as John slowly pulled out once every drop of cum had left him, the head of his cock brushing against Roger's cheek and leaving a streak of cum there. "Feels good, Daddy."

"Tell me how this feels," John said, reaching around Roger's body to grasp his cock again, stroking hard and fast even though it would do no good in the end. Roger nearly screamed when John touched him, so wound up from being fucked twice without being allowed to come that he was already oversensitive, every careful touch of John's fingers making a painful sort of pleasure spark hot in his veins. He wanted to come so badly; he could feel himself teetering on the edge, dangling there without relief.

John stroked him in a way that mixed the pain and pleasure to blend seamlessly together into a burning need, making him feel like his body was being set on fire with John's touch. One more stroke and he'd be coming, spurting hot all over John's fingers, probably collapsing over the back of the couch.

But as it was, he couldn't come, and John's touch was starting to become more painful than pleasurable, and Roger ended up bursting into frustrated tears. John immediately stopped when he realized Roger's body was shaking with sobs, worried he'd gone just a bit too far.

"Are you alright, Roger?" John asked, wrapping his arms around Roger's waist to pull him to a standing position and turn him around so he could get a better look at him. There were raw, red lines striping across his upper chest and down his abdomen where the edge of the back of the couch had pressed into him. His skin was flushed red from his shoulders down to his waist, his cheeks the same bright red color, broken up only by the tears rolling down his face.

Roger sniffled and nodded, although his tears kept coming, dripping down onto his collarbone and rolling down his chest. "I just wanna come, Daddy," he said in between sobs, voice more than a little uneven. "I've been a good girl, please let me come, I'm so close," he begged.

"You have been a good girl. You've been so good for us," John soothed. "We'll let you come, baby. I promise. Just hold on for a little bit longer, okay?"

It was then that Freddie made his presence known, coming up beside them and wrapping his hand around the curve of Roger's elbow.

"Come with me, darling," Freddie said, smiling brightly at Roger when he turned to look at him, Roger's eyes still watery and his bottom lip trembling. "I'll take care of you."

John loosened his grip, letting Freddie pull Roger away from him. Freddie stopped in front of the couch and let go of Roger, so John moved to linger behind him, making sure that nothing happened while Roger was standing alone on shaky legs. Freddie tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it haphazardly on the floor before he returned his attention to Roger, wrapping his hands loosely around Roger's forearms.

"You look lovely, kitten," Freddie purred. A smile crossed Roger's lips, his tears forgotten for the moment. "I haven't gotten a taste of you yet, and I just don't know if I can wait any longer. And since you were so good for Brian and John, I'm thinking I might let you come on my cock. Would you like that?"

Roger's breath hitched and he nodded quickly, the idea of finally getting relief all too tempting to him. Freddie smiled, again letting go of Roger to sit down on the couch, leaning back and letting his eyes roam over Roger's body, marked up and flushed and still leaking cum despite Roger's best efforts to keep it in.

"Come here," Freddie coaxed. "I want you to ride me. Facing me, so I can see how pretty you are when you come."

Roger took those few steps to the couch, John placing his hands on Roger's waist so Roger could get up on the couch and kneel over Freddie's lap without losing his balance. One of Freddie's hands came up to lay flat over John's, keeping Roger steady; the other went to his cock, lining it up with Roger's hole, slick with leftover lube and cum that was slowly trailing down the inside of his thigh. Roger was trembling, fighting the urge to just sink down onto Freddie's cock; he couldn't, not until Freddie told him to.

He had to keep being good so he would get to come.

Roger bit down on his bottom lip and watched as Freddie moved the hand resting on his side down to the base of his cock, fingertips resting on the metal ring that was the bane of Roger's existence.

"Since you're being so good for me, I'm going to take this off," Freddie said, voice low. "I want to see how many times you come apart while I fuck you."

Roger barely had time to register the meaning of Freddie's words before Freddie was sliding the metal ring up over his length, making Roger hiss softly at the cold dragging over his overheated, oversensitive skin. Just the brush of Freddie's fingers against his cock as he removed the cock ring made Roger feel like he was on the verge of coming, and he struggled to ignore the feeling, hoping he wouldn't embarrass himself by coming too soon, even though it felt like hours had passed since they'd started and everyone else had gotten to come at least once.

Freddie placed the cock ring aside and turned his attention back to Roger, the corner of his lips pulled up in a smirk as he settled his hands atop John's, like they were both keeping him there.

"Have a seat, darling," Freddie invited.

Roger took a deep breath, and with John's hands guiding him, he slowly lowered himself down onto Freddie's cock. Freddie's cock was the biggest in the band, and it had taken Roger quite a long time to be able to take all of it. Even now, when he'd been thoroughly fucked open, he still had to take it slow, taking it inch by inch even though he just wanted to feel it fill him in one smooth motion.

Roger moaned long and loud when finally, finally, he was fully seated, Freddie's cock filling him so full that it was all he registered, every nerve in his body buzzing with pleasure at the feeling of being stuffed full.

He rocked forward a little bit and suddenly everything went out of focus, the head of Freddie's cock pressing up against his prostate with that one small movement, and it was too much, it was too much, and he was coming, his back arching and a wail tearing itself from his throat as the rush of pleasure rocketed through him.

It was so intense that when everything came back into focus, he was half-slumped over, John and Freddie's joined hands the only thing keeping him from having fallen right onto Freddie's chest. There were white streaks across Freddie's chest and his own, Roger swearing he felt a sticky trail on his skin all the way up to his neck and chin.

"Feel better, kitten?" Freddie asked. Roger nodded, cheeks flushing a little redder in mild embarrassment at how quickly he'd come. He felt like all the energy had been drained out of his body, but still he wanted more; he wanted to feel Freddie come inside him, add to the mess of cum and lube dripping out of him, marking him as theirs. "You look absolutely lovely when you come."

Roger flushed an even darker red, pressing his knees into the couch cushions so he could pull himself mostly upright, a difficult task when his hands were still tied up. "Wanna feel you," he said, meeting Freddie's eyes as he spoke. "Wanna make you come in me."

"That was the plan all along," Freddie said, a smirk still on his face; Roger always wanted to kiss him when he looked at him like that. "We know how needy you are, how slutty you are. But it'll be up to you to make me come. So if you want my cum, you'll have to earn it."

Roger shrugged, pressing his knees into the couch cushions again for balance as he slowly rose so Freddie's cock was no longer completely filling him. "Give me a real challenge," he said, dropping back down onto Freddie's lap in one fluid movement, a moan falling from his lips as he felt Freddie's cock fill him again.

Roger repeated the movement, going slow so he could feel every stroke of Freddie's cock inside him, so he could hear Freddie's breath pick up at the way Roger ground down on him, rolling his hips to press Freddie's cock in even deeper, although it already felt like he was being stretched to the brink.

He lifted himself up again, this time starting to bounce on Freddie's cock, letting little sparks of pleasure shoot up his spine with every touch, every movement up and down Freddie's length. Roger felt like he was close again already, his body apparently exhausted from holding it back for so long earlier that just riding Freddie's cock had him nearing the edge again.

Or maybe they were right that he never lasted.

Either way, he could feel another release creeping up on him, warmth pooling hot in the pit of his stomach as he straddled Freddie's lap, fucking himself down on Freddie's cock.

"Daddy," Roger said, the word spilling off his tongue as easy as breathing, even though he'd never said it to Freddie before tonight. "I'm close," he panted, rolling his hips on the next downstroke. "Want you to come with me."

"I want to see you come on Daddy's cock," was Freddie's response, words spoken slowly like he was testing the name on his tongue. It sounded perfect to Roger; his breath caught, just from the sound of Freddie referring to himself as Daddy, and suddenly he was so much closer.

"Daddy, please," Roger begged, not even sure what he was begging for, his movements growing erratic as he chased his second release of the night.

"Be a good girl," Freddie purred, having picked up exactly what to say to make Roger fall apart, "and come all over Daddy's cock."

That was all Roger needed to finally go over the edge, slamming down on Freddie's cock one last time before he was coming, spurting hot over his stomach and Freddie's. He clenched tight around Freddie's cock when he came, sending Freddie over the edge with him, groaning as he spilled inside Roger.

When Roger came down from his high, he found Freddie watching him with a sated smile on his face. "You were perfect, darling," he said. "Absolutely perfect."

John helped Roger climb off of Freddie's lap, Roger still a little unsteady from how hard he'd come. John had just let go of him and taken a step back when Roger heard Brian's voice behind him.

"We're not finished yet," Brian said, gaze lingering on Roger's naked form. He walked over to the couch, nudging Freddie's leg pointedly with his foot. "Get up."

"There's no need to be so rude," Freddie scoffed. Still, he got to his feet, moving out of the way for whatever Brian had planned. With Freddie out of the way, Brian shoved Roger down onto the couch rather unceremoniously; any semblance of patience had apparently disappeared in the time Roger had spent with John and Freddie.

Fortunately, Roger landed sitting up. Brian knelt down in front of him, meeting Roger's bewildered gaze. "Put your legs up, with your knees to your chest," Brian instructed him. "And spread them for me."

Roger knew better than to question him; it took a little bit of squirming on his part, but soon enough he managed to get his knees up against his chest, lightly resting his elbows atop them. He spread his legs as wide as he could, which wasn't very far, but it was enough for Brian.

Roger felt terribly exposed, sitting there with his legs spread wide like he was waiting to be fucked while all Brian did was look at him, as if he was committing the sight of Roger's fucked-open hole to memory.

Roger's curiosity grew as the seconds ticked by, and finally he could take it no longer. "Bri, what are you—oh fuck," Roger gasped, as in the midst of his question, Brian leaned in so his face was between Roger's legs, pressing his mouth to Roger's hole and licking into him. Roger tried to resist the urge to push down onto Brian's face, every careful swipe of Brian's tongue making renewed arousal surge through him. Short gasps and whines left his mouth with abandon as Brian ate him out. If his hands weren't bound, Roger definitely would've sunk his fingers into Brian's curls and pushed his face deeper until he came, because Brian could work his tongue just as well as his fingers.

But with his hands bound, he had to abide by Brian's pace.

It seemed like ages that Brian spent licking into him; there was no way his jaw wasn't sore by then, but he curled his tongue just so and Roger was arching off the couch, coming hot over his stomach for the third time that night, Brian's name a sob on his lips.

Roger was still coming down from the high when Brian stood up and fit his body in the gap between Roger's legs, tangling his fingers in Roger's hair and kissing him insistently, hot and openmouthed. There was something on Brian's tongue when their tongues met in the middle, and when Roger took it into his mouth, he realized it was Brian's cum – no, not just Brian's, but John and Freddie's too – and he could have come from the thought of having their combined cum on his tongue alone.

When Brian pulled back, Roger didn't need to be prompted to swallow it down, and Brian's resulting smile was blinding.

---

They took care of Roger after they were all sated, wiping off any remnants of cum that hadn't been licked away. They untied his wrists and kissed every red mark the fabric had left temporarily imprinted on his skin. They praised him in soft, sweet tones, telling him how good he'd been, how much they loved him.

He was lying out across their laps and he'd never felt more content.

Roger blinked up at John, his head in John's lap. "You know," Roger started, words slow, almost slurred; he was so worn out from being fucked and the alcohol starting to wear off that sleep would soon catch up to him. "I thought I planned this. But you," he said, pointing an accusing finger in John's face, "planned this too."

"We planned this," John corrected him gently, smiling as Roger blinked again, confusion etched across his face as he slowly lowered his hand. "We could tell you were getting worked up and frustrated in the studio. Figured you needed a little stress relief. But we didn't plan on you being such a brat to Brian and giving us a reason to punish you."

"Hmm," Roger responded, mulling this over. "Think you can punish me again tomorrow?"

"If there's ever a day that you don't need to be punished, it'll be the day when there's no breath in your lungs," Brian answered, a small smile on his lips as he patted Roger's knee softly.

"That's a lie, I'm good most days… most of the… time," Roger answered, his thoughts starting to slip away as sleep threatened to overtake him.

"Sleep, darling. We'll be here when you wake up."

Roger sighed and closed his eyes.