hhanon | Round 3 - Return of the Meme

Round 3 - Return of the Meme

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That's nearly the end of the storia, for onto the scene comes our much loved meme: HAIL TO THE QUEEN OF PROMPTIA.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A problem that is soon fixed with two such determined men, apparently.

Within seconds Beatty’s jeans, Beatty’s absurdly tight jeans that he always wears as a strident ‘fuck you’ to the world in general, are peeled off and tossed into some dark corner. He would itch to chase after them at any other time, of course, would itch to hang them up in the proper place and give a firm lecture about cleanliness…

But then the fingers of Nelson’s hand slide up to grip firmly against Beatty’s bare hipbone, and all thoughts of lecturing are lost in one long gasp.

Likewise, within moments Nelson’s very sensible (and expensive) trousers are stripped from him and tossed carelessly across the room – landing halfway between the door. A messy pile that he would fuss over at any other time, grumble darkly over and maybe withhold sex until somebody listened to him…

But then Beatty smirks, and slides his hand down his body to make Nelson gasp - and he realizes that the withholding of sex is never going to happen in a million years.

“Hardy,” Beatty laughs breathlessly, tilting so he can see that talented hand working around Nelson’s cock, “you seem quite wonderfully interested in all of this, I must say.”

He groans, ever so lowly-

“Stop talking,” groans louder, as Nelson thrusts up with his now naked hips and draws an unintentional whine from Beatty, “not part of the plan, never was part of the plan, never will be part of the plan – you are simply being helplessly disobedient.”

“…Yes,” Beatty sighs, the moment he can speak again (he quite sympathizes, all words appear to have left his throat without a forwarding address), “but you love me for it.”

A short pause “…Maybe.”

A longer pause. He pushes up on the restraints as Beatty pauses to stare for a second “…Really?”

“Mm.”

“Oh.”

…He thumps his leg on the mattress, no matter how sweet it is and how much he kind of wants to hug both of his glorious idiots and never ever stop.

“…Oh!”

“Plan?”

“Plan.”

And suddenly Beatty is rolling off Nelson, a speedy ball of somehow coordinated limbs, and sitting back on his haunches as the man rolls off the bed. Keeps sitting back on his haunches, in fact, even as Nelson walks nakedly across the room and starts rummaging in the side cabinet.

He tries to express admiration at Beatty’s amount of control, it ends up as more of a croaked cross between a moan and a whimper.

“Oh, Hardy,” it gets him a smirk, at least, a brief shift as Beatty leans up to press a terribly fond kiss against the line of his hip, “do be patient, my love, we are doing this for your pleasure, after all.”

He opens his mouth, to try and express something yet again-

But then Beatty is being dragged away by the firm hand of Nelson, and being pinned to the bed for a firm snog as the lube rests besides them – already opened and waiting almost arousingly (as far as a tube can be arousing, of course) against the rumpled sheets of the bed.

“Beatty,” Nelson admonishes as he pulls back, reaches for the lube with a steady hand and somehow perfect balance, “you told Hardy our plan.”

“Fuck,” Beatty simply spits, still obediently reaching up to hold the lube and squeeze it onto Nelson’s ready fingers.

“That was remarkably rude of you,” Nelson still continues to tut, even as he reaches those ready fingers down to slide into the doubtlessly tight heat of Beatty’s body, “it was meant to be a surprise, Beatty, an early birthday present for him to flail endearingly over.”

“Fuck- His birthday is in three months,” Beatty still somehow manages to spit, even as Nelson presses a second finger into him and smirks, “and he’s a smart man, Nelson, I think he would’ve figured something out within a few moments of us tying him up and fucking in front of him.”

“Beatty,” Nelson chooses to ignore that, like he never does in everyday life, and adds a third finger while he’s at it, “that’s why I said early.”

“I’m just saying that we should give him better presents nearer the-“ and Beatty’s back arches, as Nelson obviously crooks his fingers and a certain spot is happily reached, “fuck!”

“Yes, Beatty,” Nelson smirks with a wink over at him, quickly withdrawing his fingers and getting into position, “that sounds wonderful.”

And more arguing is probably coming, and swearing, and glaring, and general stubbornness enough to impress Churchill at his most obstinate-

But then Nelson pushes in - and all that is lost on a helpless, wavering whine that makes his eyes slide shut and his entire body tremble and his cock go rock hard in a way that is the most pleasurable kind of pain possible.

When he manages to open his eyes again he is greeted with the sight of Nelson braced firmly against the bed, Beatty’s nails digging lines into his naked shoulders and Beatty’s thighs wrapped tight around his waist.

And Nelson looks over at him for a second, smirks over at his breathless panting…

And thrusts, drawing another wavering whine from Beatty that has him yanking forwards against his restraints and letting out a rumbling groan of his own – a helpless, captivated thing that Beatty probably can’t hear with his head thrown back against the bed and his entire body trembling and an expression of rapture so clear on his face that helpless adoration is the only possible reaction.

…Just as it’s the only possible reaction to the steady clench of Nelson’s back muscles.

And the way Beatty’s mouth falls open just a few minutes into proceedings.

And the muttered declarations that Nelson starts to breathe halfway through, huffed right against Beatty’s ear.

And the screech that Beatty gives when he comes, arching right up against Nelson’s chest and then flopping back with a helpful clench to make Nelson follow him right afterwards.

…Yes.

Helpless adoration really is the only possible reaction.

And a very sensible reaction at that, really, as Beatty and Nelson disentangle themselves from a leisurely kiss at his slightly pleading gasp and both edge up his body – twin smirks on their faces as they settle either side of him.

“Oh Hardy,” Beatty purrs softly, reaching out to toy with one of his nipples in a way that may have him arching off the bed, “our Hardy.”

“Our Hardy,” Nelson agrees proudly, with a kiss pressed against the side of his neck. And reaches down between his legs.

…They should do this more often, really.

...I need more of this in my life <33333333333333333333333333333333

Fuckthatwashot.

So I've been trying to word.

I've failed miserably.

Basically, if I said everything I wanted to, then this comment would be longer than the fic - but OH MY GOD.

The little details of Nelson being ex-military, Beatty being a sarky fucker, Hardy being the one in charge, and the one at the centre of the relationship, Nelson saying I love you to Beatty and Hardy being "well that's all very well but SEX" which made me laugh far more than it should for that role reversal there, and how the three of them interact in such WONDERFUL ways.

Just - I mean "OUR Hardy," kinda sums it all up - and now I shall re-melt and flail from the floor as I appear to have jelly- legs :'DDD

Round 3 - Return of the Meme

FILL: An Early Present, Nelson/Hardy/Beatty, Modern Day AU, NC-17 [2/3]

FILL: An Early Present, Nelson/Hardy/Beatty, Modern Day AU, NC-17 [3/3]

Re: FILL: An Early Present, Nelson/Hardy/Beatty, Modern Day AU, NC-17 [3/3]

Re: FILL: An Early Present, Nelson/Hardy/Beatty, Modern Day AU, NC-17 [3/3]