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The second Mephisto stepped foot into the empty newspaper room, he shut the door and pushed your back against it. His lips pressed to yours in hungry, ravenous kisses. Those warm, gloved hands took hold of you by the back of your neck as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. A low growl left him, vibrating through you. The need was tangible. You could taste how much he craved you.

Yet, you pushed the starved demon back. Mephisto stared at you, breath ragged and eyes bewildered. “Again?”

You could hardly keep track of the number of times you had given Mephisto the slip over the last few weeks. If you had to take a guess, perhaps eight. Every time Mephisto tried to pull you into an empty classroom or the newspaper room when he knew no one would be there, you either refused to go with him or you pushed him away as quickly as he had gotten his hands and lips on you. It had grown frustrating. Just last month, you had five different secret rendezvouses throughout the campus – with no complaints, Mephisto would add. Not all of them ending in sex, but it was at least enough to satisfy his growing desire for you. Now, you scarcely let him kiss you before you provided a half-baked excuse as to why you needed to leave.

“I need to meet Solomon for –” you started with another excuse, trying to maneuver out of his grasp.

“No.” Mephisto boxed you in against the door, his arms planted firmly on either side of your body.

“Isn’t this a bit cliché: trapping me against the door?” You rolled your eyes at him.

“What’s up with you?” Mephisto huffed and inched closer to your face, searching your eyes for anything that would explain your sudden withdrawal.

~

The answer he was searching for was that this was, for the most part, a punishment of his own making. Three weeks ago, you overheard a conversation between Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Mephisto. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you had a report to drop off, and they were all chatting in the student council room when you heard your name leave Diavolo’s mouth.

“Are you friends with MC already, Mephistopheles?” Diavolo asked.

“I beg your pardon, My Lord?” Mephisto sounded like he had been caught off guard. You knew you shouldn’t have been listening from the hallway, but you were equal parts anxious, curious, and hoping not to embarrass anyone by showing up right as they were talking about you.

“You seem to have taken a liking to them, am I wrong?”

“I have to agree, Young Master,” Barbatos concurred. “I’ve spotted you two together on multiple occasions, Mephistopheles. Certainly, you must be on friendly terms by now.”

“Is that so?” Diavolo mused. “Have you noticed anything, Lucifer?”

“MC has not mentioned Mephisto once in my presence, although I have seen them together. Perhaps it’s one-sided, then.”

“I have absolutely no interest in that human!” Mephisto interjected – loud and adamant.

Your heart sank when those words left his mouth. Although you couldn’t fault him for trying to keep the details of your relationship a secret, there was something harsh and cruel about his denial. It was so extreme. He wouldn’t even say your name. He had reduced you down to “that human.”

“Oh?” Diavolo questioned him. “That’s a shame. I was hoping you would get along.”

“We aren’t enemies, My Lord!” Mephisto tried to course-correct. “We just aren’t that friendly, is all.”

You took a deep breath before entering the council room.

“Ah, MC! What brings you in?” Diavolo greeted you. At that, Mephisto turned to stare, his face flushed with shame and guilt.

~

“Are you suddenly worried about doing this in public? I’ve been careful to lock the doors. Or,” Mephisto paused self-consciously, “do you not want me anymore? Is that why you won’t touch me?”

“Is that really what you think?” You sighed and crossed your arms. You might as well be honest. “How would you react if someone asked how I felt about you, and I told them I had no interest in ‘that demon?’ That wouldn’t hurt you?”

Mephisto’s eyes widened. He had completely forgotten about that incident – after a few days of embarrassment that kept him up at night, of course. He was mortified by your sudden arrival at the time, as if your name alone could summon you, but he never imagined you had heard what he said – although seeing you had filled him with instant regret. Unfortunately, when that guilt and regret came rushing back, Mephisto became defensive. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Lucifer. That human you’re all so fond of, well, I like them too now. Hope you enjoy more competition for their affection.’”

“That sounds exactly like something you would say.”

“And when has competing with Lucifer ever worked out for me, hm?” Mephisto ran his hand through his hair. “So, what, I tell him I want you, so he sinks his fucking claws in and takes you away from me? He hates to lose.”

“Fuck you.” His explanation irritated you. You understood that he was insecure, especially when Lucifer was involved, but Mephisto owed you more trust than that. By now, you thought you had proved that your feelings were not as fickle as he assumed them to be.

“Excuse me?” Mephisto furrowed his brows, surprised at your annoyance.

“Fuck. You,” you repeated.

Mephisto scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do for weeks.”

“Then get undressed.” You looked him up and down. “Now.”

“Really?” Enthusiasm bubbled up to the surface, and a grin bloomed on Mephisto’s face.

Mephisto yanked his jacket off and threw it over a nearby desk. His gloves, tie, and shirt quickly followed. Even your irritation with him couldn’t diminish the excitement you felt when watching him strip. Your resolution to avoid him had left you frustrated and wanting, too. Still, your lust didn’t nullify your anger, either.

When Mephisto put his hand on the side of your neck and tried to pull you in for a kiss, you pushed back on his bare chest to stop him. He was about to question your continued rejection of his advances when you leaned in to bite his neck. A soft whimper escaped him. With one hand still on your neck, Mephisto used the other to try to remove your jacket. His already clumsy efforts came to a halt when you traced over the newly-formed mark with your tongue and squeezed his upper thigh in your hand, massaging small circles into his leg with your thumb. Mephisto let out a soft, pleased moan and tightened his grip on your clothes.

You chuckled, tickling his neck with your breath. Your hand slid further up until you were palming him through his pants. Mephisto gasped and let go of your neck only to bury his face into your shoulder.

“Mm, fuck. I forgot how good your touch feels,” Mephisto whispered shakily against your skin. His stomach flexed as pleasure rose in him.

You kissed from his neck, along his collarbone, and down his chest, leaving Mephisto’s flushed face exposed to the empty room. The hand that clung to your shirt let go to hold the back of your head as you peppered his chest with kisses and soft licks. When you finally focused your attention on one of his nipples, biting it gently before sucking and swirling your tongue around it, the combined pleasure and anticipation left Mephisto whining. His free hand shot up over his mouth to muffle the sound.

Mephisto had always made a decent attempt to keep the noise down when you fooled around in public, despite being so noisy in bed. He enjoyed the risk, but he was usually so careful. You gave him one more soft lick before you pulled back slightly to look up at him. The back of his hand was pressed firmly against his lips, and his eyes were half lidded – with his long lashes further obscuring his eyes as he stared at you in a lust-filled daze. A deep blush stained his cheeks and ears.

“Are you more sensitive than usual?” you teased, feeling a twitch beneath your palm.

“It’s been a while. I’m pent up.” Mephisto admitted sheepishly. He pulled his hand away from his face, revealing a slick spot of drool on his skin.

Straightening your back, you leaned close to whisper in his ear: “good.”

You rubbed over his bulge a few more times before finally undoing his pants, dropping them around his thighs, and taking his cock out. He was so hard and had already started leaking precum into his underwear. Mephisto shivered and gasped when you used his precum to lube up your hand and tease his tip. Within a few strokes, Mephisto had made enough of a mess that you could forgo alternate forms of lube.

Watching his face twist in pleasure while he bit his lip, trying to hold his moans back, you pumped Mephisto’s cock and coated his entire length with his own slick fluids. His breath grew shallow, and the moans began to escape in short, muffled whines like the initial cracks in a dam. Mephisto’s legs trembled under him, threatening to give out. You used your free hand to support his back, but it wasn’t quite enough.

“Sit on the desk behind you,” you demanded, letting go of his dick to place your hand firmly above his pelvis and push him back towards the edge of the desk.

“But it’s not mine,” he protested weakly. When had that ever stopped him before? Although, now that you thought about it, whenever you fucked in the newspaper room, it was usually up against a wall when his body could handle it, or at his own desk. It was almost cute that he respected other members of the newspaper club enough to try not to make a mess on their desks.

“Do it anyway,” you whispered in his ear. “Or would you rather hold onto your cane instead of me?”

You could have supported him more, or dragged him over to his desk, but you wanted to push him – test his desperation. You removed your hand from his back just long enough to carefully sweep any papers and obstructions to the side so Mephisto could sit comfortably. He shook his head and sat up on the desk with a soft thud.

“Good boy,” you cooed and continued to stroke him. Mephisto moaned and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. He unraveled just as quickly as before. Restrained whimpers echoed in your ear.

“I’m so close,” he panted. You slid your hand off him, earning an immediate whine. “W-wait. Why did you stop?”

“Why did you assume Lucifer could just take me away from you?” you questioned him. Your hand slid along his length, in slow, teasing movements. Mephisto throbbed at your touch.

“I, ah –!” You cut him off by sinking your teeth into his neck, causing him to writhe and arch his back. His yelp gave way to a guttural growl. “Fuck.”

“Well?” You licked over the bite mark.

“He’s just – he does that.”

“Mephisto,” you purred into his ear and gently scratched your nails down his chest. “Don’t I have any say in what happens?”

Once again, you started to tease Mephisto, stroking him at an achingly slow pace. Mephisto begged, “Faster. . . please?”

“Answer me.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Mephisto rolled his head back and groaned with no regard for anyone who could be walking nearby.

“Didn’t mean what?” You milked him for a proper answer.

“That your feelings don’t matter,” he admitted. You rewarded his acknowledgement by rubbing him faster. “Mm, yes. Please. Like that, don’t stop.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You slowed your pace down again, earning a whimper. Mephisto bucked his hips up to meet your hand, desperate for more.

“I –” he whined, still humping against your hand. “I’m afraid.”

The confession took you by surprise. When you pulled away, you noticed frustrated tears running down Mephisto’s cheek. His panting was labored and shaky. He was distraught. Using both of your hands, you firmly pressed his thighs into the desk.

“Of what?” you asked, watching the residual pleasure on his face give way to shame.

“I can’t. . .”

“Tell me.” You let go of one of his thighs to slowly rub his tip again. A sharp inhale preceded another muffled moan. He wasn’t trying to hold back his moan this time, though; Mephisto was trying to keep the answer bottled up in his chest. The glint of concern in your eyes and the continued stimulation was forcing him open.

“I don’t know why you want me. I don’t understand you. If I just – ahh, I’m gonna –” Mephisto interrupted his confession to warn you, lolling his head back and moaning. You stopped touching him again. Although he had expected it, Mephisto still groaned at yet another ruined orgasm.

“Finish what you were saying first.”

“If I – if I convince myself that it’s out of your control, then I won’t feel so bad when you decide to leave me – or stop having sex with me or don’t want to be around me anymore.”

You felt bad for him – not because it was stupid or pathetic to be worried about, but because it made sense. It was one thing to lose your partner because some bastard had the power and charm to steal people away. It was decidedly worse to know they left you because they just didn’t want you enough anymore. For the first time in weeks, you brought your lips to Mephisto’s and kissed him deeply until he was breathless. All the while, you thumbed his tip, teasing him just enough to keep him at the edge. Suddenly, you pulled away from him.

“Finish yourself off.” You kissed his cheek. “Or don’t.”

“Why?” Mephisto protested. “I told you the truth.”

“You told me that you think I’ll stop wanting you. So let me tell you something, too.” You leaned in, nearly pressing your lips to the side of his neck. “I want you so much. I can barely contain myself. I want you right now. I’ll want you tomorrow. I’ll want you for the foreseeable future. Can you trust in that much for now?”

“If you want me, then why won’t you finish me off?” It was humiliating for Mephisto, being so afraid to lose you, desperate, and hard all at once.

“I can want you without touching you. Actually, I changed my mind.” You walked over to Mephisto’s desk and pulled out the pack of wet wipes that you knew he kept in his bottom drawer. You wiped your hands off – still sticky with precum – and grabbed a few more wipes for Mephisto before returning to his side and handing them to him. “Don’t touch yourself. Stay like that – all hard and needy and desperate – for the rest of the day. I’ll walk you home later.”

A smile snuck up on Mephisto’s face, understanding your proposition. He agreed, “Okay, I’ll wait. But could you stay with me while I calm down?”

Confused, you studied his face. He was flustered and his eyes were damp with tears. Even his hair was a mess. “Why? I’m not going to change my mind and help you finish.”

“I know,” Mephisto chuckled. “I just want you to stay by my side for a little while. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” You kissed his cheek, wiping away the salt residue from his tears, leaving an interrupted fossil of a stream. You took one of the spare wipes from his hand and brushed it over his cheek. “And Mephisto? I’m really sorry that I made you think I didn’t want you. I avoided you because I was upset, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it – I didn’t know how the conversation would go, and I was worried it would only hurt. I should have said something, even if it was just that I was hurt and not ready to talk to you. I’ll try to do better next time. Is that okay?”

“It’s fine. You know, you play therapist too much for those brothers.” Mephisto laughed and nuzzled into your neck. He made no moves to get cleaned up and dressed yet, but he found the energy to tease you. “Please tell me orgasm denial and edging aren’t a part of your regular conflict resolution process.”

“You’re so cute,” you teased back, only exacerbating his blush and making his cock twitch. Dammit. He was so tempting, and he wasn’t even trying. You sighed, recommitting to wait until you got him home. With a gentle touch, you fixed his hair for him.

“Thank you, MC.” Mephisto grinned shyly. He still hadn’t calmed down completely, though.

As if you intended to test your resolve, you gave him another sweet, tender kiss. “You can thank me later.”

(November poll story pt. 1 - Lucifer version)

The second Mephisto stepped foot into the empty newspaper room, he shut the door and pushed your back against it. His lips pressed to yours in hungry, ravenous kisses. Those warm, gloved hands took hold of you by the back of your neck as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. A low growl left him, vibrating through you. The need was tangible. You could taste how much he craved you.

Yet, you pushed the starved demon back. Mephisto stared at you, breath ragged and eyes bewildered. “Again?”

You could hardly keep track of the number of times you had given Mephisto the slip over the last few weeks. If you had to take a guess, perhaps eight. Every time Mephisto tried to pull you into an empty classroom or the newspaper room when he knew no one would be there, you either refused to go with him or you pushed him away as quickly as he had gotten his hands and lips on you. It had grown frustrating. Just last month, you had five different secret rendezvouses throughout the campus – with no complaints, Mephisto would add. Not all of them ending in sex, but it was at least enough to satisfy his growing desire for you. Now, you scarcely let him kiss you before you provided a half-baked excuse as to why you needed to leave.

“I need to meet Solomon for –” you started with another excuse, trying to maneuver out of his grasp.

“No.” Mephisto boxed you in against the door, his arms planted firmly on either side of your body.

“Isn’t this a bit cliché: trapping me against the door?” You rolled your eyes at him.

“What’s up with you?” Mephisto huffed and inched closer to your face, searching your eyes for anything that would explain your sudden withdrawal.

~

The answer he was searching for was that this was, for the most part, a punishment of his own making. Three weeks ago, you overheard a conversation between Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Mephisto. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you had a report to drop off, and they were all chatting in the student council room when you heard your name leave Diavolo’s mouth.

“Are you friends with MC already, Mephistopheles?” Diavolo asked.

“I beg your pardon, My Lord?” Mephisto sounded like he had been caught off guard. You knew you shouldn’t have been listening from the hallway, but you were equal parts anxious, curious, and hoping not to embarrass anyone by showing up right as they were talking about you.

“You seem to have taken a liking to them, am I wrong?”

“I have to agree, Young Master,” Barbatos concurred. “I’ve spotted you two together on multiple occasions, Mephistopheles. Certainly, you must be on friendly terms by now.”

“Is that so?” Diavolo mused. “Have you noticed anything, Lucifer?”

“MC has not mentioned Mephisto once in my presence, although I have seen them together. Perhaps it’s one-sided, then.”

“I have absolutely no interest in that human!” Mephisto interjected – loud and adamant.

Your heart sank when those words left his mouth. Although you couldn’t fault him for trying to keep the details of your relationship a secret, there was something harsh and cruel about his denial. It was so extreme. He wouldn’t even say your name. He had reduced you down to “that human.”

“Oh?” Diavolo questioned him. “That’s a shame. I was hoping you would get along.”

“We aren’t enemies, My Lord!” Mephisto tried to course-correct. “We just aren’t that friendly, is all.”

You took a deep breath before entering the council room.

“Ah, MC! What brings you in?” Diavolo greeted you. At that, Mephisto turned to stare, his face flushed with shame and guilt.

~

“Are you suddenly worried about doing this in public? I’ve been careful to lock the doors. Or,” Mephisto paused self-consciously, “do you not want me anymore? Is that why you won’t touch me?”

“Is that really what you think?” You sighed and crossed your arms. You might as well be honest. “How would you react if someone asked how I felt about you, and I told them I had no interest in ‘that demon?’ That wouldn’t hurt you?”

Mephisto’s eyes widened. He had completely forgotten about that incident – after a few days of embarrassment that kept him up at night, of course. He was mortified by your sudden arrival at the time, as if your name alone could summon you, but he never imagined you had heard what he said – although seeing you had filled him with instant regret. Unfortunately, when that guilt and regret came rushing back, Mephisto became defensive. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, Lucifer. That human you’re all so fond of, well, I like them too now. Hope you enjoy more competition for their affection.’”

“That sounds exactly like something you would say.”

“And when has competing with Lucifer ever worked out for me, hm?” Mephisto ran his hand through his hair. “So, what, I tell him I want you, so he sinks his fucking claws in and takes you away from me? He hates to lose.”

“Fuck you.” His explanation irritated you. You understood that he was insecure, especially when Lucifer was involved, but Mephisto owed you more trust than that. By now, you thought you had proved that your feelings were not as fickle as he assumed them to be.

“Excuse me?” Mephisto furrowed his brows, surprised at your annoyance.

“Fuck. You,” you repeated.

Mephisto scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do for weeks.”

“Then get undressed.” You looked him up and down. “Now.”

“Really?” Enthusiasm bubbled up to the surface, and a grin bloomed on Mephisto’s face.

Mephisto yanked his jacket off and threw it over a nearby desk. His gloves, tie, and shirt quickly followed. Even your irritation with him couldn’t diminish the excitement you felt when watching him strip. Your resolution to avoid him had left you frustrated and wanting, too. Still, your lust didn’t nullify your anger, either.

When Mephisto put his hand on the side of your neck and tried to pull you in for a kiss, you pushed back on his bare chest to stop him. He was about to question your continued rejection of his advances when you leaned in to bite his neck. A soft whimper escaped him. With one hand still on your neck, Mephisto used the other to try to remove your jacket. His already clumsy efforts came to a halt when you traced over the newly-formed mark with your tongue and squeezed his upper thigh in your hand, massaging small circles into his leg with your thumb. Mephisto let out a soft, pleased moan and tightened his grip on your clothes.

You chuckled, tickling his neck with your breath. Your hand slid further up until you were palming him through his pants. Mephisto gasped and let go of your neck only to bury his face into your shoulder.

“Mm, fuck. I forgot how good your touch feels,” Mephisto whispered shakily against your skin. His stomach flexed as pleasure rose in him.

You kissed from his neck, along his collarbone, and down his chest, leaving Mephisto’s flushed face exposed to the empty room. The hand that clung to your shirt let go to hold the back of your head as you peppered his chest with kisses and soft licks. When you finally focused your attention on one of his nipples, biting it gently before sucking and swirling your tongue around it, the combined pleasure and anticipation left Mephisto whining. His free hand shot up over his mouth to muffle the sound.

Mephisto had always made a decent attempt to keep the noise down when you fooled around in public, despite being so noisy in bed. He enjoyed the risk, but he was usually so careful. You gave him one more soft lick before you pulled back slightly to look up at him. The back of his hand was pressed firmly against his lips, and his eyes were half lidded – with his long lashes further obscuring his eyes as he stared at you in a lust-filled daze. A deep blush stained his cheeks and ears.

“Are you more sensitive than usual?” you teased, feeling a twitch beneath your palm.

“It’s been a while. I’m pent up.” Mephisto admitted sheepishly. He pulled his hand away from his face, revealing a slick spot of drool on his skin.

Straightening your back, you leaned close to whisper in his ear: “good.”

You rubbed over his bulge a few more times before finally undoing his pants, dropping them around his thighs, and taking his cock out. He was so hard and had already started leaking precum into his underwear. Mephisto shivered and gasped when you used his precum to lube up your hand and tease his tip. Within a few strokes, Mephisto had made enough of a mess that you could forgo alternate forms of lube.

Watching his face twist in pleasure while he bit his lip, trying to hold his moans back, you pumped Mephisto’s cock and coated his entire length with his own slick fluids. His breath grew shallow, and the moans began to escape in short, muffled whines like the initial cracks in a dam. Mephisto’s legs trembled under him, threatening to give out. You used your free hand to support his back, but it wasn’t quite enough.

“Sit on the desk behind you,” you demanded, letting go of his dick to place your hand firmly above his pelvis and push him back towards the edge of the desk.

“But it’s not mine,” he protested weakly. When had that ever stopped him before? Although, now that you thought about it, whenever you fucked in the newspaper room, it was usually up against a wall when his body could handle it, or at his own desk. It was almost cute that he respected other members of the newspaper club enough to try not to make a mess on their desks.

“Do it anyway,” you whispered in his ear. “Or would you rather hold onto your cane instead of me?”

You could have supported him more, or dragged him over to his desk, but you wanted to push him – test his desperation. You removed your hand from his back just long enough to carefully sweep any papers and obstructions to the side so Mephisto could sit comfortably. He shook his head and sat up on the desk with a soft thud.

“Good boy,” you cooed and continued to stroke him. Mephisto moaned and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer. He unraveled just as quickly as before. Restrained whimpers echoed in your ear.

“I’m so close,” he panted. You slid your hand off him, earning an immediate whine. “W-wait. Why did you stop?”

“Why did you assume Lucifer could just take me away from you?” you questioned him. Your hand slid along his length, in slow, teasing movements. Mephisto throbbed at your touch.

“I, ah –!” You cut him off by sinking your teeth into his neck, causing him to writhe and arch his back. His yelp gave way to a guttural growl. “Fuck.”

“Well?” You licked over the bite mark.

“He’s just – he does that.”

“Mephisto,” you purred into his ear and gently scratched your nails down his chest. “Don’t I have any say in what happens?”

Once again, you started to tease Mephisto, stroking him at an achingly slow pace. Mephisto begged, “Faster. . . please?”

“Answer me.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Mephisto rolled his head back and groaned with no regard for anyone who could be walking nearby.

“Didn’t mean what?” You milked him for a proper answer.

“That your feelings don’t matter,” he admitted. You rewarded his acknowledgement by rubbing him faster. “Mm, yes. Please. Like that, don’t stop.”

“Then why’d you say it?” You slowed your pace down again, earning a whimper. Mephisto bucked his hips up to meet your hand, desperate for more.

“I –” he whined, still humping against your hand. “I’m afraid.”

The confession took you by surprise. When you pulled away, you noticed frustrated tears running down Mephisto’s cheek. His panting was labored and shaky. He was distraught. Using both of your hands, you firmly pressed his thighs into the desk.

“Of what?” you asked, watching the residual pleasure on his face give way to shame.

“I can’t. . .”

“Tell me.” You let go of one of his thighs to slowly rub his tip again. A sharp inhale preceded another muffled moan. He wasn’t trying to hold back his moan this time, though; Mephisto was trying to keep the answer bottled up in his chest. The glint of concern in your eyes and the continued stimulation was forcing him open.

“I don’t know why you want me. I don’t understand you. If I just – ahh, I’m gonna –” Mephisto interrupted his confession to warn you, lolling his head back and moaning. You stopped touching him again. Although he had expected it, Mephisto still groaned at yet another ruined orgasm.

“Finish what you were saying first.”

“If I – if I convince myself that it’s out of your control, then I won’t feel so bad when you decide to leave me – or stop having sex with me or don’t want to be around me anymore.”

You felt bad for him – not because it was stupid or pathetic to be worried about, but because it made sense. It was one thing to lose your partner because some bastard had the power and charm to steal people away. It was decidedly worse to know they left you because they just didn’t want you enough anymore. For the first time in weeks, you brought your lips to Mephisto’s and kissed him deeply until he was breathless. All the while, you thumbed his tip, teasing him just enough to keep him at the edge. Suddenly, you pulled away from him.

“Finish yourself off.” You kissed his cheek. “Or don’t.”

“Why?” Mephisto protested. “I told you the truth.”

“You told me that you think I’ll stop wanting you. So let me tell you something, too.” You leaned in, nearly pressing your lips to the side of his neck. “I want you so much. I can barely contain myself. I want you right now. I’ll want you tomorrow. I’ll want you for the foreseeable future. Can you trust in that much for now?”

“If you want me, then why won’t you finish me off?” It was humiliating for Mephisto, being so afraid to lose you, desperate, and hard all at once.

“I can want you without touching you. Actually, I changed my mind.” You walked over to Mephisto’s desk and pulled out the pack of wet wipes that you knew he kept in his bottom drawer. You wiped your hands off – still sticky with precum – and grabbed a few more wipes for Mephisto before returning to his side and handing them to him. “Don’t touch yourself. Stay like that – all hard and needy and desperate – for the rest of the day. I’ll walk you home later.”

A smile snuck up on Mephisto’s face, understanding your proposition. He agreed, “Okay, I’ll wait. But could you stay with me while I calm down?”

Confused, you studied his face. He was flustered and his eyes were damp with tears. Even his hair was a mess. “Why? I’m not going to change my mind and help you finish.”

“I know,” Mephisto chuckled. “I just want you to stay by my side for a little while. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” You kissed his cheek, wiping away the salt residue from his tears, leaving an interrupted fossil of a stream. You took one of the spare wipes from his hand and brushed it over his cheek. “And Mephisto? I’m really sorry that I made you think I didn’t want you. I avoided you because I was upset, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it – I didn’t know how the conversation would go, and I was worried it would only hurt. I should have said something, even if it was just that I was hurt and not ready to talk to you. I’ll try to do better next time. Is that okay?”

“It’s fine. You know, you play therapist too much for those brothers.” Mephisto laughed and nuzzled into your neck. He made no moves to get cleaned up and dressed yet, but he found the energy to tease you. “Please tell me orgasm denial and edging aren’t a part of your regular conflict resolution process.”

“You’re so cute,” you teased back, only exacerbating his blush and making his cock twitch. Dammit. He was so tempting, and he wasn’t even trying. You sighed, recommitting to wait until you got him home. With a gentle touch, you fixed his hair for him.

“Thank you, MC.” Mephisto grinned shyly. He still hadn’t calmed down completely, though.

As if you intended to test your resolve, you gave him another sweet, tender kiss. “You can thank me later.”

(November poll story pt. 1 - Lucifer version)