Just Guys Being Dudes
After Valentine's voice died out, the groom-to-be was met with silence. Dio, having consumed the most alcohol, quirked a brow at Valentine while pouring himself another glass. Having little control over his impulses, he was the first one to speak.
“Not even a blowjob or something?”
“Not even while you were at West Point?”
“Christ, no! I don't know what sort of porn you've been watching but your idea of the military is far from the truth!”
“I'm just saying...” Dio slurred, sinking further into the leather cushions. “As of now, you're the only straight person I know.”
“Oh, let the man be already!” Kars exclaimed, saving Valentine out of a very awkward situation. “We all make our choices.”
“I know! It's just...not once have you even ever thought about it?”
“Well...” Valentine started, attracting everyone's attention.
Had this little pre-wedding gathering/classier bachelor party/get-together of theirs been a movie, any seasoned director would have ordered all cameras to turn to Diavolo. The mafioso arched an eyebrow, fingers freezing on his chin. He shifted on his seat and pulled himself, spine arching as he leaned over the edge, as if pulled closer to Valentine by an invisible thread. Had someone wired Diavolo to a heart monitor, they wouldn't have missed the way his heart skipped a beat before resuming at a much faster pace. His sweat was staining the expensive brown leather. His throat was dry, and not just because of the cigars. He glanced at Kira and to his great amusement, Kira was looking right back, holding his glass of whiskey in front of his lips to conceal his tiny little smirk.
Valentine was by no means a shy guy. He was a very outspoken man, quite brave, maybe a bit prude, and very intelligent. He wasn't the best but he definitely wasn't the worst, especially compared to the bunch around him. However, feeling all those inquisitive eyes on his skin made his own pair of blue ones open wide in confusion, the same pink of his coat now staining his high cheekbones. He cleared his throat, letting out an embarrassed little chuckle.
“Thinking is different than doing, Dio,” he said in a very quiet voice. “We've all thought of things we've never done.” He looked up, finding them all still looking like owls. Christ. “I guess I have always been a bit curious, especially ever after meeting you guys.”
“Why did you never act upon your curiosity?” Doppio inquired.
Couldn't get mad at that guy. Not with that polite voice and chubby freckled cheeks. “I never had the chance to do so, I suppose. Sure, so many men – senators, governors, mostly older – have occasionally dropped by my office to request something not quite professional. For a price, of course. They offered the craziest things, I swear! It's not that I didn't get approached by younger, good-looking guys but it was mostly those bats from the White House. Hell, even the President!”
“The President wanted to have sex with you?!” Pucci demanded, shooting up from his seat.
“And what did you say?”
“I declined, of course.”
There was a collective groan of frustration from around the room. “But why?”
“What do you mean 'why'? I know what's going on behind the scenes and believe me, you don't want to get with those guys. Not in that way, anyway.”
“What about the others?” Kira asked quietly, giving away nothing. “The normal ones?”
“Ah, I don't know,” Valentine said after a moment of consideration. “When you get into politics, you start getting a little paranoid after a while. Everyone's suddenly an enemy, a spy. I had no idea how many of those guys that approached me where actually interested or sent over by rival politicians wishing to get blackmail material. I'm not saying that all of them were rotten, I just had no way of telling them apart from the honest ones.”
“You didn't trust them.” Diavolo's husky, dark voice, cut through the silence like the low rumbling of thunder in the sky. Slowly, he brought his glass to his lips, all the while maintaining eye contact with Valentine. “That's what you're saying, right?”
“Yeah.” Valentine quickly shook his head. He reached for his half-full glass – he had only drunk three quarters of a champagne bottle, far less than anyone else. He smiled. “It doesn't matter anymore. This time tomorrow, I'll be married and hopefully this time next year I'll have a family!”
They all raised their glasses, Dio toasting with lemonade per Pucci's insistence. “May you find as much happiness in your marriage as I found in mine,” Kars wished. It meant a lot coming from an ageless man that had been married for over three decades.
Unfortunately, their little gathering had to end at some point. They all had to go home, get some rest and freshen up for tomorrow's festivities, especially the groom. They had to make sure they had plenty of energy for the long and tiring day that would follow. Pucci rose first, said that the priest had to set a good example. In the meantime, Dio had passed out on the couch and his dead weight was hanging off Pucci's frame like lead, dragging him down. Kars helped the young priest carry Dio to the underground parking lot. Luckily for them, the hotel's halls were empty at this hour, with no one to witness the East Coast's most fearsome criminal lawyer stumbling out of his golden glittery crotchless pants while mumbling in his sleep about motorboating his husband's mega-thick chest.
Doppio followed shortly after, putting on his coat and gloves to shield himself from the chilly February weather. When he stepped out of the private lounge, he looked back in confusion, just then realizing that his boss wasn't following him. Walking hurriedly on his tiptoes, Diavolo walked to his underboss, dragging him a bit further away to maybe explain the situation to him.
“Aren't you gonna come, boss?”
“No, I got...I got stuff to do.”
“This late? Can I help?”
“No, Doppio,” Diavolo insisted. Inside the lounge, Kira was keeping Valentine occupied and oblivious to the scheme revolving around him. “It's fine.”
“Are you sure, boss? Sounds like urgent business.”
“It's just best man stuff, you know?” Diavolo blurted the first thing that came to mind.
Doppio kept staring at Diavolo with his large maroon eyes, trying to understand what was going on. He peaked inside the lounge, where Kira and Valentine were tidying up. It seemed as if his mind suddenly shifted into gear and all the pieces clicked into place. A slow, cunning smile spread over his lips. He punched Diavolo on the shoulder.
“I get it,” he grinned. “What if he rejects the offer, though?”
“He won't,” Diavolo reassured him. “There's no way he will.”
Doppio nodded. “I'll see you at the wedding, then?”
The wedding. Yeah, right. As if there was going to be a wedding. “Sure,” Diavolo said. “And tell Trish to dress up, for fuck's sake. She just came out of a cold and I am not having it another time.”
After receiving directions for the following day, Doppio departed, leaving Diavolo to carry on with his plan. What was the plan again? It's not like he had a detailed strategy, he just had a clear view of his goal. Smooth talk Valentine into sleeping with him, and somehow getting Kira into the equation. Sure, the uptight, supposedly very straight and just a few hours away from tying the knot Funny Valentine would prove to be much more of a challenge than the usual flirt but Diavolo was up for it.
Diavolo walked inside the lounge, immediately attracting Kira's attention. Kira stood up, casually reaching for his coat. He gave Valentine a lazy, sleepy smile, cutting off his excited pre-marital ramblings. “I'm gonna go now,” he said. “Leave you to get some rest, too.”
“Oh, thank you, Yoshikage! The truth is, I have some much energy for some reason, I don't think I'll be able to sleep at all!”
After dressing up, the two men said their goodbyes and Kira walked out of the room where Diavolo was waiting by the door. Diavolo walked him to the elevators, so to give Valentine a brief illusion of privacy.
“So what are we gonna do?”
“You go home and tell Shinobu Funny's nervous and stuff and you have to calm him down. After I've warmed him up a bit, I'll give you a call.”
Kira nodded. The elevator arrived, making its presence known with a ping. “Sounds like a plan. I'll be ready.” The two men exchanged nods. Once Kira was gone, Diavolo quietly walked back to the room, thankful that the thick carpet was muffling his footsteps. He leaned against the doorframe, observing Valentine's form from a safe distance. All of Diavolo's friends (?) were ridiculously attractive but there was just something about Valentine that made him a bit special. Perhaps it was the unapproachability, how serious he was, how morally correct. Diavolo knew better than anyone what a cunning man Valentine was and what a monster he could be when he wanted to, yet those vivid blue eyes and golden curls shrouded him in a cloud of innocence. He was just irresistible, graceful and beautiful, too beautiful to go to waste. As Diavolo watched him walk around the room like a luxurious, Persian cat, making no sound, he thought what a crime it would be – what a sin – if only one person ever got to enjoy every bit of this gorgeous man.
He approached Valentine, not bothering hiding his presence. When he shut the door with the tip of his shoe, Valentine turned around, curious. He looked at Diavolo with confusion.
“I thought you left with Doppio,” he said.
“No, I thought I'd stay behind for a little while and keep you company.”
“I appreciate the sentiment.”
Right. Diavolo had to be fast and precise. He had to keep the conversation friendly but suggestive, make sure his intentions were clear enough so as not to offend Valentine and scare him off. He needed to be sly, make some sort of offer or deal. He didn't want to sound desperate, just that he was trying to help his friend...expand his horizons somewhat.
“How are you feeling?” Diavolo asked. He sat down on the couch, for the moment appreciating the view of Valentine cinched waist and tight ass. Like hell he was letting him go to waste.
Valentine sat down next to Diavolo and sighed. “I feel a bit nervous,” he confessed. “I want everything to be perfect, down to the last detail. You only get married once. Well, at least that's what I intend.”
Diavolo nodded. “Everything will be fine.”
“Yes. It's you we're talking about.”
Valentine huffed. He leaned back on his seat, eyes turned to the ceiling. “In less than a day...Still can't believe it. Seems like yesterday when we first met.”
“How long have you guys been together for, again?”
Since they were fifteen years old, then. Yikes. “Are you ready to leave everything behind?” Diavolo asked nonchalantly, casually reaching to play with one of Valentine prized blonde locks. His hair was even softer than it looked, felt like pure silk between Diavolo's fingertips.
“What do you mean?”
“Well...Once you're married, you'll never get the chance to experience someone new. I know you, Funny. Once you've made a promise before God to never cheat on Scarlet, you'll keep that promise.”
“I know that.”
“Isn't it a bit...depressing?” Diavolo inched closer, his breath, heavy with the scent of rich cigars and aged whiskey, fanning the side of Valentine's face. “Monogamy, I mean.”
“Sounds like it is to you. But not to me. Besides, I've always been monogamous, there's nothing I'll miss.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Don't get offended,” Diavolo soothed him, enjoying that for once, he was the calm one and Valentine was agitated. “I'm only saying that it seems a bit unfair how Scarlet can do whatever she wants with whomever she wants while you sit and talk about loyalty.”
“It seems unfair to you,” Valentine snapped. It was probably his anxiety that was causing him to be a bit jumpier. He moved to stand up but Diavolo held him down with a persistent but gentle hand on his thigh.
“What are you doing?”
“There are so many things you haven't tried, so many possibilities, and tonight is your last chance.” Valentine's expression was horrified bordering on disgusted. Diavolo didn't let that discourage him. He faced a lot of disgust during the day, blessed be the underworld.
“Wh-What?” Valentine stammered out. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
“I think you know.” Diavolo scooted closer. Valentine was pressed against the armrest, trying to distance himself even more. His skin had turned yellow. “Come on,” Diavolo insisted. His hand was still resting against Valentine's thigh. He caressed the clothed skin, trying to extract a reaction from the blond. “You said it yourself; you've always been curious, you just never had the chance to act upon your curiosity because you didn't trust the people that approached you.” He smiled, reaching to tuck a stray of long flaxen hair behind Valentine's ear. He didn't miss the way Valentine clenched his jaw. “You trust me, right?”
A few seconds passed without Valentine responding. He examined Diavolo's face, trying to study his expression. For once, he didn't hold even the slightest hint of rage. For once, he was clearly stating his intentions. For once, he was being honest.
“I trust you,” he quietly admitted, gaze still fixed on Diavolo's face.
“So let's go do it.”
“I thought you were my friend.”
“I am,” Diavolo shrugged. “I'm merely offering my advice and help. As a friend.”
“Is that right? What if I say 'no'? Will you brush this off as nothing?”
“You haven't pulled away yet.”
Valentine looked down. Diavolo's hand was still pressing down on his thigh and he was welcoming the touch without even realizing it. Not even after Diavolo pointed it out did Valentine pull away. He just sat there, trying to comprehend what the hell was going on.
“Do you want to do it?” Diavolo pressed on, leaning closer.
Just once wouldn't hurt, right? Just to satisfy his curiosity, have a little taste. Valentine had perfect control of his urges and emotions (not), surely just a peek wouldn't do any harm. The more he sat so close to Diavolo, the more he found himself opening up to the idea. Diavolo was darkly handsome, gruff and harsh, a polar opposite of his refined and too delicate characteristics. The idea of spending a few hours under him didn't sound so horrible. Once the offer was made, Valentine found himself tempted, seriously considering it.
“It'll be fine if you don't,” Diavolo said while gently running his hand up and down Valentine's thigh. No, it wouldn't be fine. It would suck and make things awkward, minimizing Diavolo's chances for a successful seduction.
“No,” Valentine breathed. “I wanna do it.”
It took the words a few seconds to fully sink in. Diavolo had to practice all his self-restraint so as not to jump up screaming like a dumb teenager that had finally gotten together with his high-school crush. Instead, he gave Valentine a side smile.
“Of course, you idiot! It's not every day you get proposals like this!” For the first time since the beginning of this bizarre conversation, Valentine averted his gaze. He rarely experienced embarrassment and when he did, he didn't know just what to do with himself. “So...what now?”
“I rented a suite here.”
“You came prepared?!”
“I was only planning on sleeping here, relax. I didn't know this evening would take such a pleasant turn.” That much was true. Diavolo had rented the suite with the intention of spending the rest of the night there with Kira. Valentine was just the cherry on top of an already great cake.
Valentine narrowed his eyes. He didn't question Diavolo, suddenly felt he didn't have the time to do so. His body was buzzing with excitement, with eagerness. Every moment passing felt like a moment wasted.
He didn't stop Diavolo when he dived in for a kiss though, for dignity's sake, he put his hands on his chest as if to push him away. Rough calloused hands reached for him, one tangling inside his soft hair while the other snaked around his waist, pulling him closer. Valentine had no idea Diavolo was capable of such tenderness. He could feel his passion dripping from his lips, mixing with their kiss. Slowly, Valentine wrapped his arms around Diavolo's neck, deepening the kiss, accepting the affection. Diavolo grinned against his mouth and nibbled on Valentine's bottom lip, softly pressing his teeth on the plump flesh. They opened their mouths, letting their tongues tangle and twist, freely explore one another. They tasted almost the same, bitter cigars and alcohol, though Diavolo tasted like whiskey while Valentine had the faint sweet taste of champagne and raspberries.
They parted, panting and flushed, staring into one another's eyes. Diavolo leaned down again, this time to lay kisses on Valentine's long, pale neck. Valentine leaned back, letting Diavolo claim every bit of skin. The mafioso bit down across Valentine's neck, switching between playfully painful bites and long sucking kisses. He extracted the first sound for the night, a soft, melodic gasp that almost forced itself past Valentine's lips.
“Here?” Diavolo asked, smiling impishly. In case his partner had forgotten what he was talking about, Diavolo made a show out of sucking on the spot right under Valentine's right ear.
“Yes,” Valentine gasped, fingers digging into Diavolo's shoulder. “We should hurry upstairs.”
“Are you that eager to get fucked?”
Valentine pouted, eyes turning serious. “Don't flatter yourself,” he scolded while sitting up straight and trying to make himself look decent.
Diavolo said nothing. There was no need to fill the silence with words, only actions. Oh, he could barely contain all his thoughts as they swirled around his brain, filthy, delicious ideas of what to do with that gorgeous body.
Once inside the elevator, Diavolo pressed the 'penthouse' button. To save himself a few moments of reflection, Valentine chose to look outside the glass walls, down to the city lights and tar black sea. Diavolo observed his profile, the sharp jaw, the strong nose, the sharp cheekbones, and tulip-like lips. He couldn't help but wonder what a man as divinely beautiful and cold as that was during sex. Throughout their friendship, while vacationing together at one of Diavolo's villas, he had heard Valentine have sex. Scarlet seemed to like whatever he was doing other, genuinely in fact, as she always returned to him even after a sea of lovers. But this was an entirely new territory for Valentine, vast and uncharted. Such a strong, composed, important man, yet with no knowledge of life's most pressing subjects. It was almost endearing, Diavolo thought, how one of the strongest people in the country was as clueless as a curious but innocent teenager.
They jumped when they reached the elevator, as both had been entirely absorbed in the own thoughts. Diavolo stepped out to the empty hall first, waiting for Valentine who followed with pride but hesitation. They halted before a set of double mahogany doors that Diavolo opened swiftly using a password, allowing Valentine to step in first. And so he did, taking the first step into the suite. As the dim lights – cleverly hidden behind wooden panels – turned on, the room was revealed, a two-floor modern loft. The spacious kitchen consisted mostly of dark browns and blacks, sleek countertops and sharp, square furniture, reflecting Diavolo's severity. A deep emerald L-shaped couch was positioned at the best spot in the floor, allowing a gorgeous view of the city and bay through the glass wall. And of course, a bar, fully stocked and already attracting Diavolo's full attention.
He walked back to Valentine, offering him one of the two glasses of whiskey he was holding. “I've drunk enough,” Valentine said.
“Drink it,” Diavolo insisted while sipping on his own drink, “you need it to relax.”
“Is it that obvious?” Valentine joked through there was no mirth in his voice.
“Yes.” Diavolo put hιs glass down on the coffee table and walked around Valentine. He slammed his hands down on the other man's shoulders and squeezed hard. “You're very tense.”
“Help me relax, then.”
Diavolo didn't need to be told twice. Using strong motions, he started kneading Valentine's shoulders, trying to undo the knots he found there. As much as he liked this first contact, he wanted more. “Wanna go upstairs?” he suggested.
Being courteous for once, Diavolo let Valentine walk to the bedroom first. Dark and gloomy, like the rest of the room, with a king-sized bed adorned with black linens and crimson pillows. Valentine sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over the covers, enjoying the feeling of the fabric under his fingertips. While the suite looked barely lived-in, Diavolo's touches were evident, hinting that he used it quite often. Luxurious but dark, just like him. Valentine was pleasantly surprised to see how attentive Diavolo was, caring about every tiny little detail.
“Never thought you'd be one to ask for directions.”
Valentine fell backward on the bed, stretching his arms above his head and arching his spine. “You're the experienced one, I'm just a virgin.”
“Very well. Turn around.”
“Say the magic word.”
Diavolo pressed his lips in a thin line. He rid himself of his purple Armani shirt, carelessly tossing it to the side, revealing his muscular upper body. He smirked at the way Valentine's eyes widened, gleaming in the low light. It was nothing he had never seen before, but the context changed everything. Diavolo took his time undoing his ponytail, flexing his muscles, letting his hair cascade down his back. Valentine got on his elbows as Diavolo climbed over him, slowly crawling like a puma, aiming for his lips. They kissed slowly, exchanging wet pecks, enjoying the taste and sound of them.
“Will you please turn around?”
Valentine snickered. He rolled over, getting comfortable on his stomach. Diavolo took a seat on his ass and gently rocked his crotch against the perky cheeks. He leaned down against Valentine's back, slithering his arms under his torso to blindly undo the buttons of his shirt. Even though the position was a bit uncomfortable, Diavolo was enjoying the closeness, the sweet, peachy scent of Valentine's luscious hair and fragrant skin. After undoing every button, Diavolo tore it off of Valentine's body and tossed it to the side.
Diavolo reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a small vial of sweet smelling oil. He opened the cap and poured a generous amount on his hand. He set it to the side and rubbed his hands together, distributing and warming the oil between his palms. His eyes traveled over the bare back below him, taking time to memorize every scar, line and faded wound before running his hands over them. Diavolo pressed down hard against Valentine's shoulder blades, eliciting a soft gasp from the blond. With each deep push of his arms, Diavolo let Valentine have a small taste of his growing arousal. Using his thumbs, Diavolo traced them all the way from the base of Valentine's spine to his neck. He dug the heels of his palms into the muscles in Valentine's back and Valentine groaned deeply. Diavolo pushed the blonde locks to the side and started massaging Valentine's neck, gently, careful not to break it.
“If you keep going like that I might actually go to sleep,” Valentine murmured, the smile in his voice evident.
“I just want you to get used to me, to my touch against your skin. You can sleep after I'm done with you.”
“Done with me?” Valentine repeated, smiling lazily. “You speak as if I'm a meal about to be devoured.”
“So you get the idea.”
Valentine laughed as he got on his back once more and Diavolo sighed in relief. He was already enjoying himself. This encounter was exceeding Diavolo's expectations. He had expected Valentine to be more uptight, strict, uncooperative. It didn't take too long to convince him. He obviously wanted this.
Diavolo undid Valentine's pants and pulled them down along with his boxers, throwing them off the bed. He got rid of his own pair before reclaiming his position above Valentine. He reached for the discarded bottle yet again, using a generous amount to cover his fingers.
“Spread your thighs.”
“You don't have to beg me.”
Valentine pinched Diavolo on the bicep. “Be polite. I'm not some hooker you met at a strip club!”
Diavolo rolled his eyes. Trust Valentine to start talking at the worst moment. He chose to do him the favor, as arguing didn't really fit with what he was trying to do. Diavolo smoothed his slicked hand over the velvety surface of Valentine's milky thighs. The view was stunning. The defined abs, the cinched waist, the glistening lips, bright blue eyes, and golden hair. It all called to him to claim it. For the night or...for as long as he desired.
Valentine obliged, hesitantly spreading his long legs as far as he could. Diavolo grabbed one shapely calf, holding it over his shoulder, spreading Valentine's thighs even further. Valentine's breath hitched when Diavolo found his entrance, carefully slipping one index finger in to the last knuckle. The sensation was odd, unfamiliar and slightly painful, though in a pleasurable way. It was the kind of pain one would seek. Valentine clenched against the digit and Diavolo wiggled it inside, trying to get his lover for the night comfortable with the stretch. Valentine gave him a little nod and Diavolo slipped the second finger in. Valentine gasped, screwing his eyes shut and throwing his head to the side. Diavolo scissored his fingers and Valentine cried out. He was holding back, trying to only let out muffled moans and soft breaths but finally, the pleasure was bursting through the seams.
When he decided it was time, Diavolo slipped a third finger inside, pulling another wanton reaction from the blond. He thrusted his fingers in and out of that wonderful tightness, trying to stretch Valentine as much as possible. After all, he had to make room for one more. For the first time that night, Diavolo pressed his fingers down hard against Valentine's prostate. The reaction was simply delicious. Valentine craned his neck, letting out a sweet moan, fingers burying inside the covers. Encouraged, Diavolo pressed down even harder and Valentine whined, surprising Diavolo. Who would have thought that Funny Valentine was capable of such soft, gorgeous sounds? With each press against his sweet spot, his cock twitched, leaking precum down its length. Diavolo pushed in a fourth finger and Valentine gasped loudly, eyes fluttering open, lips parting wetly, spine arching wonderfully.
“Diavolo,” he panted, chest heaving. Before he could say another word, Diavolo started massaging his sweet spot yet again, stealing his ability to think. "Please-ah!"
“Don't you like it, baby boy?” Diavolo purred. Using his other hand, he jerked Valentine's hard cock and Valentine keened. “I think you love it.”
Getting fucked open with just four fingers really fit Valentine. Diavolo could see how hot his face had gotten even in the dim lights, saw pure, black lust burning in his eyes, sweat setting his body on fire. Unable to form a coherent thought, Valentine couldn't stop himself from whining when Diavolo retracted his fingers.
The dreadful emptiness didn't last for long. Diavolo pulled both of Valentine's legs over his shoulders, positioning himself between them. He wrapped one hand around his cock and started jerking lazily. His lips pressed gently against the silky surface of Valentine's leg, eyes locked. Goosebumps riddled the entirety of Valentine's body. Diavolo could smell the anticipation coursing through his veins. He would have loved to prolong this as much as he could, tease and taste, give slowly, but the clock was ticking. Time was against them.
Valentine gasped as Diavolo pushed himself inside, bit by bit, letting him adjust to every additional inch. The burniing pain that had gone with Diavolo's fingers returned stronger, sharper. Valentine hissed at the foreign pressure. It was neither good nor bad, just strange. He tried taking steadying breaths, tried ignoring the pain. Diavolo was soothing him with words of affection, filthy things whispered in his ears. By the time Diavolo was fully sheathed within him, Valentine had gotten comfortable with the stretch, not minding the dull ache at the base of his spine anymore.
“Can I move now, baby boy?”
“Yes,” Valentine managed, throat suddenly very dry. He didn't comment on the nickname, fully focused as he was on the sensation of being filled to the brim.
Diavolo pulled out slowly, supporting himself on his arms on each side of Valentine. Once only the tip was inside, he pushed back with more force, making Valentine wince. The blond's legs were dangling off Diavolo's shoulders and he was nearly bent in half. Diavolo really appreciated the flexibility, as it allowed him to press his body against Valentine, smell the scent of his arousal, feel his throbbing cock between their stomachs.
He started moving again, making slow, languid thrusts, aiming each on Valentine's sweet spot. Despite the time spent carefully preparing him, Valentine was still tight and hot around Diavolo's cock, wonderfully so. Each thrust pulled a sweet little moan from his throat and Diavolo yearned for more. He started pistoning his hips with increased speed. Valentine was panting below him, fingers buried in the pink hair.
“Faster,” he mumbled.
“Already?” Diavolo was actually genuinely concerned. The last thing he wanted was for Valentine to be hurt, thus cutting their encounter short, much shorter than Diavolo wanted.
“Yes, dammit,” Valentine hissed. He detached his legs from Diavolo's shoulders and locked his ankles around Diavolo's waist, pulling him closer, deeper inside him. He groaned at the satisfaction that came with being full again.
Diavolo started rolling his hips, pushing his cock deep inside Valentine. The mattress squeaked as he moved, the sound of skin against skin echoing around the room along with their sounds of satisfaction. Diavolo leaned down, letting his parted lips hover over Valentine's own. Their huffing breaths mixed, eyes meeting through heavy lids. Valentine brought one sweaty hand to the side of Diavolo's head, pulling him to a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. His blunt nails dug viciously into Diavolo's back, marking the skin and Diavolo groaned deeply into his throat. Diavolo dipped his head lower, tasting the sweat on Valentine's neck.
“There-ah!” Valentine exclaimed, eyes rolling to the back of his head, craning his neck.
Diavolo bit down on the pale skin of his shoulder maybe a bit too hard, making him whimper. His body was flush and slick with sweat against Valentine's, only his hips moving restlessly, ceaselessly, dragging Valentine deeper into the depths of ecstasy in its purest, rawest form. His eyes were completely unfocused, lost, all sorts of sweet sounds flying from his swollen lips. With each deep thrust against his sweet spot, he saw white, mind going a bit blank. Jolts of pleasure ran down his spine like electricity. He curled his toes and cried out, letting himself get fucked into the mattress.
Diavolo had to practice all his self-control not to cum when Valentine did. The sight of him was absolutely sublime, spine arched, legs tightening around Diavolo's waist, mouth hanging open, eyes white. Diavolo fucked him right through it, not letting him catch his breath even for a second. Valentine's cock spasmed, releasing ropes of cum over both their lower abdomens. His limbs relaxed, falling on the mattress like soft clay.
Diavolo grabbed one of his legs and held it over his shoulder, angling himself even better. He could feel his orgasm approaching and he surrendered to it, his entire body melting as he releasing inside Valentine's warm, tight hole, giving short, shallow thrusts to milk himself dry. His breathing got back to normal. Using the edge of the sheet, he wiped his sweaty forehead. In his thirties, Diavolo – with a daily diet consisting mostly of alcohol, cigarettes, and cocaine - didn't have the stamina he had as a horny seventeen-year-old. Sadly, he pulled out and Valentine whined at the emptiness. Diavolo chuckled and moved to lay next to him, just for a few minutes to catch his breath. He pushed the sweaty hair off of Valentine's face and the blond thanked him with a hum.
“Don't fall asleep,” Diavolo nudged him.
Valentine got on his stomach, stretching his arms to wrap them around the pillow. “Have you been planning this for long?” he asked, ignoring Diavolo.
Diavolo snorted. “No,” he said.
Valentine pinched him again. “You're telling me that the moment I told you guys I've only had sex with one person the first thing that came into your mind was 'well, I'm gonna be the second'?”
“What do you want to hear?”
“That you want me.” Shakily, Valentine pushed himself on his arms, glaring down at Diavolo through a curtain of golden hair. “That you've wanted me for long.” He got closer, hair tickling Diavolo's face. “Say it.”
Diavolo reached up and flipped Valentine's hair over his shoulder. “Why?”
“It's good to feel desired.”
“Didn't what I just did to you make you feel desired?”
“What you did to me...” Valentine laughed, laying his torso against Diavolo's muscular chest. “Are you seriously telling me you just planned this?”
Light-headed and in a good mood as he was, Diavolo decided to do Valentine the favor of telling him. (It was a confession, really, but the word 'confession' sounded too childish.)
“I've always found you attractive,” he admitted. “I just didn't know how to approach you. And when I saw the chance...I took it.”
Valentine smiled, pleased. “Now we're getting somewhere,” he hummed.
“Am I getting a reward for saying this?”
Diavolo moved to sit up but Valentine stopped him. Instead, Valentine straddled his waist, rubbing his cock into hardness between his cheeks. “Getting bold already?”
“This is my final chance to do all the things I couldn't.” Valentine paused. He studied Diavolo's expression and found an underlying tint of guilt, something only someone close to the mafioso could distinguish. “You don't want this to be a one-time event, right?”
“No.” Diavolo could do honesty for once, if Valentine desired it. “You're too beautiful to be taken only once.”
Now more comfortable with the situation, Valentine moved above Diavolo's cock, guiding it inside him with one hand, using the other to steady himself on Diavolo's chest. The feeling was much more pleasurable the second time. Valentine was still open and wet from their fucking mere minutes ago, Diavolo's cum making for extra lubrication. He moved slowly, lowering his hips until his plump behind was resting on top of Diavolo's hipbones. Now, Diavolo was even deeper inside him, the tip of his thick cock pressing against his prostate. Valentine wiggled his hips, the vibrating sensation against his sweet spot making him see stars. Diavolo brought his warm hands to rest on Valentine's hips. He stroked the velvety skin using his thumbs.
“Move slowly, baby boy,” he rasped.
He guided Valentine gently, showing him how to roll his hips to amplify pleasure for them both. Valentine's fit body adapted quickly and Diavolo found himself enjoying this position more. He could see his lover in all his white and gold glory, could feel his silky hair falling all the way down to his curved waist, pale skin flushed and decorated with love bites and black lipstick stains. Valentine opened his eyes, pure lust shining in them. The sight forced the air out of Diavolo's lungs. He knew a lot of people with blue eyes, his own daughter had blue eyes. But they were all bastard blues, all but Valentine's. Clear, cloudless cobalt, deep and true, with nothing mixed. With his ivory face and cherry-red lips, Valentine looked like a wanton creature pulled out of a painting or a Medieval monk's darkest desires.
Valentine learned quickly. He set a slow, sensual pace that was easy for him to follow, almost as if he was dancing to some music playing inside his head. He lifted his hips until only the tip was inside, then brought them down hard, making Diavolo growl profanities under his breath. He grinned at the Italian's reaction.
“Go harder,” Diavolo grumbled.
Diavolo slapped Valentine's left cheek hard, making him cry out. Grabbing him by his hips, Diavolo kept him in place and started jerking his hips upwards, fucking into Valentine vigorously. Valentine sought support on the headboard, trying not to fall over.
“Fuck yes,” he hissed, arching his spine to howl in pleasure at the ceiling. “Oh, fuck yes, Diavolo!”
His name sounded absolutely delicious in Valentine's lips. Being at the bottom was tiring but Diavolo managed, fueled by his desire to fuck this man stupid, fuck the brain out of his head. Moving quickly, he switched positions, pushing Valentine on his stomach and holding his hips up. He spread his legs wide apart and thrusted as deep as deep went, making Valentine cry into the sheets. The lubrication was wearing out and the pain was leaking into the pleasure but none of them cared. Diavolo kept fucking Valentine, bringing his hips back to meet his cock with every thrust. Valentine's fists curled around the sheets. Sweat was staining the linens, tears were stinging in the corners of his eyes. Oh, this felt too good.
It didn't take him that long to cum, not with how sensitive he already was. He released his load all over the formerly crisp sheets, Diavolo's name on his lips. Diavolo followed soon after, spilling inside Valentine's already stained insides. Valentine choked out a cry at the feeling of Diavolo's cock twitching and emptying inside him. He thought he'd have a problem accepting this part but he welcomed the warmth and yearned for more.
Diavolo caressed the scarred skin lovingly. He traced kisses from the base of Valentine's spine, between his shoulder blades, at the nape of his neck and finally his ear, where he sucked on the lobe.
“Gorgeous,” he breathed. “Absolutely divine...” He helped Valentine roll over, admiring the lustful beauty laying below him. A stunning sight indeed. He ran a hand through the messy blonde locks, smiling tenderly. “There are so many things I want to do to you...”
You: come over
Handy Dandy: omw
Handy Dandy: how is he?
You: come see
You: got the code?
Handy Dandy: yea
Kira arrived at the hotel right when the first clients were heading to the gym for the 6 AM yoga session. To avoid being detected by anyone, he rushed to the elevators and quickly headed for the penthouse, hoping no one else saw him. Once there, he input the code at the door and stepped into the quiet room. The first floor of the loft was bathed in the early light of dawn. The door echoed in the still suite as Kira shut it. He hurriedly headed upstairs.
Diavolo greeted him with a sly smile. He was reclining on the bed, with the sheet carelessly thrown over him, admiring the beautiful blond laying right next to him. They said nothing but Kira felt as if Diavolo was calling him to come take a look. Kira approached the bed. Valentine was laying on this front, sleeping soundly, oblivious to the new presence.
“He passed out,” Diavolo hummed, voice dripping with affection.
“How many times did you fuck him?”
“Lost count.” Kira pulled a face and Diavolo chuckled. “We had a bath before you came and I cleaned him up nicely for you.” He leaned down and peppered Valentine's face with sweet, deep kisses.
Valentine stirred awake, a bit confused about the world around him. “What time is it?” he gasped, noticing daylight from outside.
“It's still early, baby boy.” Kira quirked a brow at the nickname. “We have company.”
Still heavy with sleep, Valentine rolled on his side, curious as to what was going on. The moment he saw Kira, his eyes widened. Suddenly very awake, he pulled the blanket up to his chin, scooting against Diavolo's chest. Kira sat down on the bed, eyes locked with Valentine's, caging him between the two of them. Valentine's panicked and confused eyes switched between his two friends.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked quietly.
“Calm down,” Diavolo soothed him, laying kisses on his neck. “Yoshikage was interested so I thought I'd invite him. Only if you want to.”
Kira didn't bother glaring at Diavolo. He reached for one of Valentine's hands and brought it to his lips, planting a chaste kiss on the knuckles. Valentine shuddered.
“Diavolo,” he rasped, “can you get me a glass of water?”
Diavolo, who had been nuzzling Valentine's neck, looked up with a quirked brow. A small smile appeared on his lips as he got off the bed, leaving the two men to warm up to one another.
Once Diavolo was gone, Kira stood up and started stripping, not once tearing his gaze from Valentine's. He was fast but meticulous, folding each removed garment on the back of a chair. While he was taking his clothes off, Valentine had stretched on the bed like a lazy cat, the black crumbled sheet hugging his lithe body loosely. Golden and pink light of dawn poured through a crack in the curtains, bathing him in its radiance, making his eyes look like gems, messy hair look like spun gold. As he lay there motionless, Kira thought for one second that he was looking at a perfect work of art, even better than the Mona Lisa. Galatea incarnate.
“Is this yours or Kawajiri's?” Valentine asked.
Valentine hummed. He beckoned Kira to come closer, chuckling at how entranced Kira was by the way his fingers moved. Valentine scooted closer to the edge of the bed, letting the sheet slide off his body, exposing his marked neck, torso, and thighs. Diavolo had spent his sweet time tasting every drop of him and Kira felt a tiny sting of jealousy. However, it all flew away when Valentine leaned his head on Kira's shoulder.
“You guys are assholes,” he remarked. “All this conspiracy just to have a threesome... Right at the last minute, too.”
“It's not a conspiracy,” Kira said, and it felt as if he hadn't spoken in a while. “You're just very... unapproachable.”
Valentine smiled lazily at that. It was honestly amazing what one night of vigorous fucking could do to a man. The ice from his eyes had melted away, revealing a warmth Kira didn't know Valentine even had. Scarlet was right, Valentine switched from cold to hot without anyone ever realizing it.
Those gorgeous fingers of his crept between Kira's parted thighs, rubbing the sensitive skin. Kira's breath hitched, fingers curling in anticipation of the contact. He felt soft lips against the sweaty skin of his neck, teeth grazing softly. He leaned to the touch, completely melting as Valentine's fingers closed around his cock. He squeezed around the base and Kira gasped. He was already hard and impatient, aroused by the sight of that lovely hand jerking his cock slowly. He took a deep breath, letting the scent of sex, sweat and expensive shampoo fog his brain. Using his thumb, Valentine circled the swollen tip, spreading the precum down the length. Kira whined, thrusting his hips into Valentine's fist. Valentine laughed.
“Did you want me for long, Yoshikage?” he purred right into Kira's ear. Before Kira could answer, Valentine picked up the pace, pumping Kira's cock with fast strokes, the other going to fondle his sack.
“Fuck-yes,” Kira whimpered. He was panting, beads of sweat rolling down his chest. His instinct yelled at him to tell Valentine to stop, slow down, but his desire won over. He could only moan as the other man continued jerking him restlessly, bringing Kira closer and closer and closer and closer-
He came with a choked cry, spilling all over the carpet. Valentine jerked him through it, milking every drop, down to the last, leaving Kira boneless, toppling over on his back with a content sigh. Without uttering a word, Kira reached for Valentine's hand and shoved the fingers in his mouth, moaning at the taste of his own semen. His tongue swirled around the digits in frenzy, licking the skin clean while keeping his grip tight around Valentine's wrist. He was getting hard again, adrenaline bursting through his veins at the feeling of that hand inside his mouth.
The soft padding of slightly sweaty feet on the carpeted floor announced Diavolo's arrival. He handed Valentine a glass of water which the blond threw down his throat instantly. The two men sat on the edge of the bed watching Kira make out with Valentine's hand.
“He's super into it,” Valentine noted.
“You should see him on his bad days...”
Valentine looked at Diavolo, surprised. “You guys have been doing this for long?”
“A few years,” Diavolo shrugged. He'd really love to talk with Valentine but for now, he had other plans. They could save the discussion while on the way to some exotic destination.
Unfortunately for Kira, Diavolo pulled Valentine away, throwing him on the bed and crawling behind him. Kira climbed on the bed in front of Valentine, running his fingers along the curve of his waist. Diavolo was met with no resistance when he held up Valentine's leg and slipped his hard cock inside Valentine's welcoming entrance. Valentine sighed blissfully and let his head fall against the pillows. Diavolo started rolling his hips, holding his lover wide open, making him moan quietly.
“Go on then,” Diavolo chimed.
Kira didn't require any clarification. “Are you sure?”
“Wait, what's going on?” Valentine asked, trying to appear serious while in the middle of getting fucked for the 100th time that night.
“Nothing bad, baby boy,” Diavolo said.
Kira got on his knees and crawled to straddle Valentine's other leg. Diavolo was still trying to reassure him that everything would be fine, that he had done this several times before. Valentine's eyes were full of uncertainty as Kira lined himself with his entrance. Kira ran his hands soothingly along Valentine's soft thighs. Diavolo was still fucking him slowly while Kira was trying to calm him down. Valentine gave him a small nod, fists tightening around the covers.
First, he pushed only the tip inside. Valentine winced, trying to push himself against the headboard. Kira held him in place, digging his fingers inside his hips hard enough to bruise. Slowly, so painfully slowly, he slipped half of his cock inside, lining it next to Diavolo's. Another agonizingly slow push and he buried it to the hilt, chest heaving as his sack rested heavy against the puffy entrance. The sensation could compare to that of holding hands. It was so unbelievably tight, to the point of discomfort. Diavolo's own slicked cock was sliding next to Kira's as Valentine's warm insides enveloped him.
But whatever Kira was feeling, it was nothing compared to what Valentine was experiencing. The stretch was incredible, the feeling of absolute fullness was driving him insane. The luxurious sensation of being fucked thoroughly by the two of them was making him delirious. Both of them were inside him, each fucking at his own pace. Diavolo was going faster, rocking his hips with much more vigor while Kira was maintaining a slow rhythm, dragging each thrust out. Valentine's mind was completely blank, unable to form a single coherent thought. He opened his mouth to speak, to even call out their names but all that came out was a series of needy mewls. Diavolo chuckled darkly and kissed his little hiccups away, pushing his cock even deeper. If that was even possible.
“Look at him, Yoshikage,” Diavolo sighed.
Kira was. It really was hard for him to tear his gaze off from Valentine's face. The open mouth, the lost eyes, the drooling... This wasn't the sharp, cold, calculating politician he was used to. This was some sweet thing they could fuck to their hearts' content. He offered no resistance, no words, nothing. He let himself become a limp wreck in their arms, going blind from the overwhelming sensation. There was no pain or pleasure anymore, only the waves of overstimulation washing over his body, erasing the world around him. He didn't realize his orgasm, he couldn't even cum properly anymore. He tried clenching around their cocks but to no avail. They were still inside him, filling him to the brim.
Kira came next, with Diavolo following shortly afterward. Valentine gasped and buried his flushed face in the pillows. He could feel the cum trickling out of his asshole and on the sheets but he didn't care. Marks, bruises, hickeys, bites, he welcomed it all. He looked ravished, barely staying conscious. The moment Diavolo pulled out, letting more of his semen leak out, Valentine inhaled sharply, finally losing his consciousness.
Diavolo gathered him in his arms and threw the blankets over them. Kira laid down next to Valentine, quietly admiring his physique.
“You're never that tender with me.”
“Are you jealous?”
“I'm just saying.”
“I think we should never have sex again. I think I love Shinobu.”
“I know it.” Kira sat up, back against the plush headboard. “You like him more, anyway.”
Diavolo huffed. It was the closest thing he could do to a laugh. “I do.”
Kira nodded. He stretched lazily, hissing at how his shoulders cracked. 8 AM. “What are you gonna do now? He's getting married in nine hours.”
“He's not gonna get married.”
“You think he's fallen in love with you because you fucked him once?”
Kira shrugged. Diavolo's mind was filled with delusions and misconceptions about how human beings functioned. No point in discussing anything with him. He got off the bed and headed for the bathroom. He had to wash off the smell of sex before presenting himself to his wife. A short shower would do.
When he returned from the bathroom, Diavolo and Valentine were still on the bed. Valentine was snoring quietly while Diavolo busied himself with his phone. He looked up from the screen, meeting Kira's gaze.
“Did you mean what you said earlier? About us stopping this?”
“Yes. It's now or never.”
Diavolo nodded. He put his phone on the nightstand and yawned. He sank in the pillows, getting comfortable right next to Valentine. “You'll return,” he mused. “You always do.”
Kira scoffed. Maybe Diavolo was right. Maybe this gravity bullshit Dio and Pucci liked rambling about was real. But that day was not the day Kira would be having that conversation with himself. He hurriedly put on his clothes and stormed out the door within mere minutes, not uttering a single word.
4 PM. Valentine woke up to the sound of heavy rain whipping the window. His eyes opened blearily, slowly adjusting to the bleak light entering through the partially open curtains. He stretched his limbs lazily and groaned at the delicious soreness. Every part of his body hurt, albeit in the most delectable way. The memory of hands and lips roaming all over his body was still too strong, as was the scent of expensive Italian cologne in his nose.
“Shouldn't you be getting ready?” Diavolo asked, one warm hand moving to caress the curve of Valentine's waist.
“What for?” Valentine managed through a yawn. He steadied himself and got on his knees, placing each leg on either side of Diavolo. His body was practically magnetized by Diavolo's, pulled together by some primal want. He kissed Diavolo's lips deeply, before parting to look into his eyes.
A smile, uncharacteristically tender, appeared on Diavolo's face. He reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Valentine's ear. Because of his obsession with anonymity, it wasn't often that Diavolo had decent sex, especially with someone like that.
“Your wedding,” he reminded, the word tasting bitter in his mouth. What was he hoping to gain? Was he really that confident? Or stupid? He looked up at Valentine with insecurity mixed with anticipation, all under the guise of sloppy nonchalance.
“What wedding?” Valentine grinned and leaned down to claim Diavolo's lips once again, not for the last time that night. Or any other.