Peter clinked his beer bottle against Mike’s and they had a little chuckle about the battle of fashionswaggerintellect they were witnessing in Harvey’s condo. It involved more smirking than Mike had possibly ever seen in one room, and it was utterly mesmerizing to watch Harvey and Neal circle each other like some sort of lions; Mike only came back to reality from staring at two sets of the finest lips in Manhattan when he heard Harvey issue a challenge.
“First one to make their man come,” Harvey said, turning the full wattage of his smirk at Mike.
“Stakes are?” Neal asked; Peter was already putting down his beer, unzipping, and mumbling something about how the decks were stacked on this because he was an old guy.
Harvey’s eyebrows quirked, “Irrelevant. The prize is in the competition.”
Considering that particular look could always get Mike instantly hard, this wasn’t going to take long. Harvey slid against him and whispered that he should watch Neal swallowing Peter’s dick, all while slowly stroking Mike through his pants. It was the combination of Harvey’s hard length pressing against his hip and the show happening next to him that had Mike coming over Harvey’s fist almost as soon as it wrapped around Mike’s dick.
“Ha! More awesome than you,” Mike gasped at Neal and Peter, who by now definitely didn’t care about the competition. Harvey laughed as he kissed Mike.