Male reader x Human Hersha and Welter

Teasing

(Best title yet)

It didn't take long before Welter and you were out of the bed, practically following him down the hallway. You both poked your head into the kitchen, Hersha gathering up items from the fridge and cabinets. As he did all that, clueless that he had spectators, he started to preheat the oven. Hersha then pulled out the tie to his hair, running his fingers through the braid to straighten it out. He threw his hair into messy bun that hung onto his neck.

His shoes clacked across the linoleum tiles, continuing to gather up bowls and spoons. Welter creeped his way into the room, quietly resting up against a wall by the doorframe. He still had no idea that either of you were there, just watching the 'maid' go to work. Hersha started to pour flour into a bowl, seeming to be eyeballing the measurements. Welter started to move in closer, approaching him, obviously trying to be sneaky. Once he got within arm length of him, he pounced onto the other, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Hersha gasped loudly, gripping onto the counter. He took a second to recover. "Jesus motherfucking Christ, Welter!" He hissed as the other howled with laughter. "It's not that funny." He grumbled. Somehow, you even found yourself giggling too, walking into the kitchen. Hersha tried to shake the other off of him. "Let go of me, you fatass." Welter shook his head, however, tightening his grip, bending down so he could rest his chin onto his shoulder. "Continue cooking." He replied with a casual tone, glancing over at you.

Without a word of protest, he continued to pour and mix things with hand tools. (I hate making things from scratch. I did it once; never again.) Eventually, he had a batter that he poured into a pan after coating it with a non-stick type spray. Welter didn't let go of the man's waist as he did all that, grinning as the other struggled at times. He only let go so the man could put the pan in the oven and set a timer. Hersha tried to get to the kitchen table without him but to no avail. "Don't be greedy. There's two chairs." He said. "Then let (name) sit on your lap." He added to try and argue. Welter shook his head. "I'm sure he wants a chair of his own. Your a slave now, remember. Who cares what you have to say?" The man chuckled, picking him up. His shoes fell off, plopping to the ground as he was carried to the table.

They sat down, Hersha on Welter's lap. You followed the two and took the other seat by the round table. "Hersha looks cute, doesn't he?" He asked you, you nodding in reply. It was pretty obvious that the man was trying to make him embarrassed or pissed off. Perhaps both. Hersha fidgeted on his lap, legs coming no where near to touching the ground. "Stop breathing on my neck, you freak." He snapped, trying to squirm away. He failed again. "Oh my goodness, my apologies for doing such a horrid thing!" The man taunted, grinning at the other. Their icy blue eyes locked in a gaze, both of them refusing to glance away for a minute, at least.

Welter suck his tongue out, the other rolling his eyes and turning his head, arms crossed. He chuckled, glancing at you for a moment. You gave him a confused look, raising a brow. He shrugged, puffing out his cheeks. That's when Hersha practically jumped out of the man's lap, grabbing at one of his hands with his own. "Please, return your hands to their assigned seats. Do not fucking feel me up!" The male whined loudly, pushing his palms down. Welter laughed. "My hands never had an assigned seat, did they?" He asked. He was trying to make Hersha uncomfortable at this point.

"Fuck off..." He grumbled loudly, the other raising a brow at him. "I'll let you piss yourself then." The man was attempting further to piss the male off. The other shook his head. "I gotta check on the brownies." He quickly said, trying to hop up. His arms didn't move. In fact, they had a tighter grasp than before. "No, you don't. You just put them in the over. I'm pretty sure it's just still a batter." Welter arrogantly replied, starting to trail his hands up again. "Do not touch me, fucking pervert. Can't you keep your hands to yourself?" The man grumbled, puffing out his cheeks. "But why?" Welter asked, resting his chin onto the other's shoulder once again. "Don't even give me the 'but why' shit. I don't need you touching me and making the matter worse." He muttered the last part, crossing his legs.

"Hm? I'm not making you uncomfortable am I? I'm sure Trip's done worse." He added, patting him on the shoulder for a moment. The man glared as the other laughed. "Don't laugh at me. I can still feel my wrists throbbing from that, assbag." Hersha hissed. Welter shook his head. "Eventually, you're gonna run out of names to call me."

"I'll tell you when I do." He replied. The three of you paused in silence, listening to the timer tick quietly. Hersha was squinting to try and see where it was at but failed miserably trying to get a look. "Bring me in closer." He almost demanded, Welter hopping from his chair, carrying the other to the oven. Hersha grasped the edges of the stove, getting close to the timer. "About fourth five minutes left." He replied, letting go as the other brought him back. "What should we do for the remainder of the time?" Welter asked, looking back at you. You shrugged, not knowing.

(Idk what should they do?)