Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7104298.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      ジョジョの奇妙な冒険_|_JoJo_no_Kimyou_na_Bouken_|_JoJo's_Bizarre_Adventure
  Relationship:
      Dio_Brando/Enrico_Pucci
  Character:
      Dio_Brando, Enrico_Pucci
  Additional Tags:
      First_Time
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-06-05 Words: 5754
****** By Way of Concession, Not of Command ******
by conceptofzero
Summary
     Of all the places he thought he would be, lying on his back in a
     vampire's bed was not one of them. He should have seen this coming.
     He should have known from the moment he met the eyes of that man in
     the church that sooner or later, he would end up in a situation like
     this.
     But he didn't know, and he's not prepared for how it feels to
     suddenly find yourself with the undivided attention of Dio.
Of all the places he thought he would be, lying on his back in a vampire's bed
was not one of them. He should have seen this coming. He should have known from
the moment he met the eyes of that man in the church that sooner or later, he
would end up in a situation like this.
But he didn't know, and he's not prepared for how it feels to suddenly find
yourself with the undivided attention of Dio.
"Have you ever been touched by another?"
Dio's hands are so big. All of him is big. Sometimes, Pucci finds himself
astonished that any man was ever made so large and so beautiful. With his hand
spread wide, the meat of his palm can easily hold onto Pucci's thigh, nearly
wrapping all the way around it. His fingers don't meet, not quite, but if he
squeezed tighter, they could.
"No." Pucci admits, shameful as it is to say so. He wants to be a priest. There
are rules about that sort of thing. And more than that, there's
recommendations. They say to be sure that you're content devoting yourself to
God. They also say that if you never travel down that path, never know the
touch of another, then you won't miss it. Until now, he's done just that.
Until now, he's never been touched like this.
He knew it might come to this. Pucci had known what an invitation for Dio to
visit his room would mean. How many others had he seen come and go through the
halls of this place, faces enraptured with the kind of bliss only physical
actions bring. But this isn't the first time he's been alone in a room with
Dio. They've sat together many times, in the study and the library and even in
the top tower with Pucci crouched outside of Dio's coffin, speaking to him in
those last moments before dawn. But it's the first time he's invited Dio here,
to this room with a single chair and a made bed. He wasn't ignorant about what
this invitation might mean, but he let himself forget it all the same.
Dio's hand slides higher. It moves away from the knee, up the long line of his
legs, right to the very underside of his thighs. His fingers brush up against
the start of Pucci's ass. They creep over the line, digging into the soft flesh
there. Dio smiles when Pucci's face heats up as any boundaries he once had are
so easily crossed.
"Have you touched yourself like this?" Those thick fingers dig into his skin.
Dio's other hand strokes up the inside of Enrico's thigh. The bed shifts
underneath them, the mattress reacting to how Dio shifts his weight. Pucci's
right leg is held by Dio's hand, lifted off the surface. His left leg remains
where it is, on the mattress, while the right is stroked on two fronts - the
inner thigh and the lower.
"Never." This is no confessional and Dio is no priest, but he confesses all the
same. He says this as if it is a sin. "They said- they said if you didn't ever,
it would be easier. So I didn't."
Dio strokes his hand up the inside of Pucci's thigh. He slides it further down
the back of his leg, firmly over Pucci's ass. Dio cups it and squeezes and it's
the most intimate touch he's ever experienced, at least right until the hand
that's not on his ass slides right over his crotch, squeezing him tight. That's
the most intimate touch he's ever experienced and he reacts instantly, body
surging up and face burning red and his body wanting more.
It feels so good. No wonder this is a sin. No wonder they warn you to stay away
from it.
"Maybe I shouldn't touch you. You can't spoil if you've never ripened." He
gently rubs Pucci's cock, the touch so light that it might not even really
count, but it's more than Pucci's ever had in his life. His breath comes in
shallow gasps and soft stutters.
"Maybe." He agrees, though he doesn't want to. Pucci wants to give himself over
to Dio without a word. He wants so badly to be taken by him. But-
But. As much as he wants to fall, there's another thing holding him back. It's
not the thought of sinning. It's not the thought of giving in after so long
standing tall. He's not worried about the falling when it comes to leave grace.
He's worried that he won't be enough for Dio.
Pucci looks around at the others who serve Dio, who call him Lord and who bow
low before him. He's seen Vanilla Ice, so tall and powerful and strong, on his
knees, eagerly serving Dio. Pucci's listened to Midler and Mariah talk to one
another, and how they speak so confidently and laugh casually about sex, as if
there's nothing they haven't already done. He's seen N'Doul respond so eagerly
to just the touch of Dio's fingertips, his head tilting up to reveal that long
neck of his, his delicate face already rapturous. Pucci's seen the parade of
meals that throw themselves at Dio, who know how to touch and kiss and lick and
suck and fuck.
And then there's Pucci, who's never even touched himself, who looks at Dio and
finds himself afraid. This is a machine he doesn't know how to operate. Sex is
a foreign country where he can't begin to understand the language and where
every gesture could reveal how little he understands, even after weeks spent in
this place. Every room here smells like sweat and spunk and desperate longing,
all except Pucci's.
His smells like unanswered prayers and peppermint oil. Even Dio must know how
little Pucci understands. He's asking the questions and getting the answers:
Pucci's never been touched. He's never touched another. Sex is strange and he's
lost and no matter what he does, no matter how he tries, he won't be enough.
Pucci's insecurities eat away at him, even now, even pressed against the
mattress. He tilts his head up, his lips parting as he looks at Dio, and he
feels the burning urge to push him away. If he never tries, then he can never
fail. If Pucci never disappoints Dio, never fails, then that's good isn't it?
That's the best things could be. He could stop this now with a word and the
pressure of his hand on Dio's chest, pushing him away.
But he feels the hand stroke over him again and Pucci moans, covering his mouth
a moment too late. He shivers, reminded once again of how big Dio is. Pucci
isn't a small man, not by any means, but Dio dwarfs him. The man is pure sex
appeal. Pucci can't hold a candle to him. But nobody could. Nobody could.
Dio lifts his hand and his lips pull into a sly smile as Pucci lets out a small
longing sound, already missing the touch. It was briefly his and now it's gone
and all he wants is to feel it on him again. "Do you want me to stop?"
Pucci shakes his head no. He doesn't want Dio to stop, and he doesn’t want him
to leave. Pucci knows that he can't ever measure up to those other men and
women, but he can't find it in himself to turn Dio away. Enrico pulls his hand
away from his mouth and forces himself to reach out and touch Dio. His palm
rests on Dio's chest and the vast expanse of bare flesh there. Pucci can't make
himself move his hand down further. All he can manage is to just touch Dio
without trembling.
Dio smiles, showing all his teeth. He presses back against Pucci's hand,
shifting in closer and tugging on Pucci until their hips are flush together.
Dio's hard. Pucci can feel him through their pants, his cock pressing against
Pucci's thigh and he finds it all too easy to picture how it would look. He
wants so badly to see it, to know if what he's imagined is the same as what
actually is. But-
But as soon as he even thinks about pushing his hand down further on Dio's
chest, he finds himself second-guessing again. The others wouldn't be so
nervous. By now, Teleance would have his hand in Dio's pants and would be
touching his cock confidently. By now, Cameo would be begging for Dio to fuck
him.
All Pucci can do is tighten his hand into a fist, pushing his knuckles against
Dio's chest, caught up in his worries.
Dio's hand touches Pucci then, those long fingers settling on the back of
Pucci's head and tilts his face up until he's looking at Dio instead of staring
at his chest. "Are you afraid of me?"
"No, not you. Never you, Dio." That at least is the easy truth. Enrico isn't
afraid of him. How could he fear anyone so loved by God? The hard truth is
slower to come out of him and Dio just strokes his fingers along the curve of
Pucci's skull, gently coaxing it out of him. "I don't want to... disappoint
you."
He feels like such an idiot when he says it out loud. Dio's cock is pressing
against him. What does he have to worry about? It doesn't matter if he's less
impressive than the rest. As long as as he serves Dio's needs, that's what
matters.
(But he thinks of all the others, so handsome and so confident and he finds
himself faltering again, wishing that he'd been tempted at least once or twice
before, so he knew what he was doing in non-theoretical terms.)
Dio just comes in closer. Pucci's hand falls away and drops back to the bed,
and then he's covered by Dio. He shuts out the candlelight and he kisses Pucci.
It's slow and even, the kind of thing that lasts too long and leaves Pucci
breathless as Dio kisses him past the point of human standards. Still, even as
his lungs burn, he can't find it in him to pull away, not until he starts to
see little lights at the edges of his eyes. Only then does he pull back and
suck in a breath of air, the starfields still swimming across his vision.
"You can't disappoint me, Pucci. All of you is a treasure." He strokes his hand
down Pucci's side, following the curve of his body. Dio's fingers dig between
Pucci's body and the mattress, until he can get another good grip on Pucci's
ass. "It's been a very long time since anyone came to me unsullied. Virgins are
a rare commodity in this time and age."
There's something about how Dio says it that makes Pucci feel like his skin's
too tight. He's never thought of himself that way. It's the truth though. He is
a virgin. There had been no desire to lose his virginity, mostly because it had
always seemed like something nebulous that other people cared about. The
difference between having sex and not having sex had never crossed his mind
before.
But here he is, another man pressing him down into the mattress, his cock
pressing down against Pucci. And though he's nervous and afraid, he's responded
to Dio's presence all the same. His pants feel unexpectedly tight in the front
and he knows that Dio must be able to feel him pressing back up.
"I don't think inexperience is worth much," Pucci confesses. He knows that Dio
must feel that way. It isn't as if he seeks out virgins of any kind. Even the
few other people in this mansion who aren't interested in sleeping with Dio (or
perhaps most importantly, those few who even Dio thinks of himself as being
above seducing) tend to all be experienced. He's only been here a few days and
already he's heard Hol tell him twice now how many women he has waiting for him
around the world.
There's only Dio for Pucci, only him and no one else. He's never even
fantasized about any other person touching Pucci, not even once, and he's done
his best to keep his own hands far away from his cock on those rare occasions
when he finds himself reacting to some stimulus - some sight, some scent, some
imaginary event that is suddenly too vivid to shut out.
"I won't last." He reminds Dio. There's no possible way he could keep pace with
Dio. It's more likely that if he's touched anymore, he'll come in his pants and
then lie there with Dio hard and eager to fuck, but Pucci unable to do what he
needs. And then, he'll slip away and find another person in this place to fuck
him and Pucci knows he will because he's heard the others talk about the other
times Dio's abandoned them. They even knew what they were doing, and he still
sometimes left or chose another. "I'm not going to be any good-"
Dio silences him with another of those long kisses, the easy nature giving way
to something more demanding. It's Dio who pulls back first this time, but only
after leaving Pucci breathless and desperate, harder than he's ever been in his
life. He fits their hips together, grinding down against Pucci until he cries
out. Dio looms over him, so beautiful that it makes Pucci's heart tighten in
his chest. "I'm going to break you down."
He will. He absolutely will. Pucci knows it's true. Dio's going to grind him to
dust and the worst part is that Pucci knows that when it's all said and done,
there won't be anything of him left to care about or respect. He'll just be
another trophy to put away in the cabinet with all the rest.
Pucci doesn't want that. He can't stand the thought of Dio seeing him fall to
shreds with nothing more than a handful of touches and a few kisses, all so he
can be dismissed.
"Wait," he pants out, both hands pressing on Dio's chest. Pucci's not sure
it'll work. There's no reason for Dio to listen to him. After all, he could
easily hold Pucci down and kiss him until he stops complaining. And he would -
he would give in so easily to Dio. Pucci's trying to hold his own here but
Dio's a natural disaster, all high winds and sweeping terror and the might and
majesty of God himself in a body that would make Michelangelo weep. If he
pushed, Pucci knows he would falter before Dio.
But when he says wait and presses his hands to Dio's chest, he does wait. Dio
holds himself above Pucci, still and almost pliable under Pucci's palms, as if
he's not really in control here. Pucci catches his breath and while his body is
still responding to Dio's very presence, he feels as if he's getting his
thoughts back in order. He can't just lie here. If he does, then he'll be
exactly what he is: a virgin who's so afraid of disappointing Dio that he won't
be able to anything else but that.
So he pushes again until Dio's backed off of him and then he sits up, and he
keeps pushing with a boldness he doesn't feel. All of his guts are like ice as
he gives that wall of muscle a shove and easily tips them over until they're
the wrong way on the bed. Dio lets himself be pushed without any resistance.
His head tilts slightly to the side, his face blank as he measures Pucci up.
His back hits the bed's surface, the top of his head facing the door. Pucci
gets to his knees and he doesn't feel in control so much as he feels as if he's
reaching through the window of an out of control car and grabbing at the wheel.
There are no brakes here, no way to stop the forward momentum at this speed,
but if he does this right, he can at least control the direction they're going
in.
Pucci puts his hands on Dio's chest as he straddles him, pressing his ass down
against Dio's erection. Dio's eyes seem to get darker and Pucci feels that hard
cock digging into him. Pucci's just as hard, but when he's sitting straight, he
can limit the amount of friction he gets when he starts to roll his hips. He
takes the focus off himself and brings it right back down on Dio. Pucci tries
to think of what he's read and overhead, and when he draws blanks, he instead
tries to rely on instinct.
"I don't want to be broken," Pucci tells him. He rolls his hips, mimicking what
he's seen in other places. It feels so strange and yet, so good too. Dio's cock
rubs against his ass, nestling itself between his cheeks. His pants are soft
and thin and they do nothing to dull the way it feels to have Dio prod at him.
Pucci's face is growing red but he's still in control here, he's still setting
the pace while Dio watches him.
While his hips work on Dio, he puts his hands on the hem of his shirt and pulls
it over his head. The motion isn't as smooth as he'd like, but it's not clumsy
and it's not foolish looking, and when he drops his shirt to the bed, Dio's
eyes are locked on Pucci. He keeps a hand on Dio's stomach to keep himself
upright. The other hand he sets on his own neck, slowly dragging his fingertips
down his body. "I don't want to be a disappointment, not to you."
Dio reaches up to set a hand on Pucci, so confident in the motion compared to
Pucci’s own attempts to touch and take. Pucci catches Dio’s hand by his wrist,
turning it away quickly as he shakes his head. If Dio touches him, he'll be
doomed. All of this work will be for nothing. He'll crumple and fall and then
he'll be nothing but putty in Dio's hands.
Pucci leans up, lifting himself off of Dio's cock momentarily as he catches
Dio’s other hand. He pushes both of them above Dio's head, pinning them to the
bed. There's nothing to force him to hold them there, but even when Pucci lifts
his hands off of Dio's wrists, his arms stay above his head. He looks so
beautiful like this...
Dio’s eyebrows arch. He stays sprawled, inviting some comment or explanation
for this. Pucci doesn't sit down right away and he doesn’t give Dio any answer.
He stays where he is, high up on Dio's chest, his thighs holding onto the broad
expanse of flesh there. Pucci duck his head down to press his mouth against the
scar separating Dio's head and body. It's a quick kiss, not much at all, but
Dio reacts all the same, shifting restlessly. His hands stay above his head,
but his finger are flexing when Pucci sits up.
With Dio laid out like this, Pucci lifts his hips and hooks his thumbs into his
pants, slowly working them down his thighs. He lets Dio have a front row seat
to Pucci baring himself, exposing his body. "You're the first person who's seen
me like this," he tells Dio as his cock emerges from the waistband of his
pants. He's hard and the tip of his cock is wet with precum. Pucci doesn't
touch himself but he doesn't need to, not when Dio's hungry eyes rake over him.
"You're the only person who'll ever see me like this."
"A grand statement. Do you think you can mean it?" Dio parts his lips and his
teeth are so sharp and white. Pucci simply nods and rests his weight on Dio. It
won't be hard to keep that promise. There's no one else he's ever wanted like
Dio. Those golden eyes narrow slightly. "Promises are easily broken."
"Not my promises." Pucci gets his pants off, and then he's fully naked. It's
terrifying. And yet, he's no less hard and no less excited by this. Pucci
shifts back down Dio's body, dragging his hands over Dio's barrel chest before
they reach those sinfully low slung pants around Dio's waist. It takes nothing
but the slightest tug on them to free Dio's cock.
He settles between Dio's thighs and he could nearly laugh because he's never
done this before either, and he has even less experience, but he's about to do
it anyway. He leans his and parts his mouth, bringing Dio's cock near. Pucci
doesn't take it into his mouth though, not when he can just dart his tongue out
and lick up the length of Dio's shaft. He lifts his head and Pucci can see how
much he wants to simply sit up and take this in properly. But as soon as he
starts moving, Pucci puts a hand on Dio's side, giving him a gentle push down
again. "If you sit up, I'll stop."
"You wouldn't." Dio says and maybe it's true. Or, maybe he could, if he had to.
Pucci just pushes down again, another reminder delivered with the flat of his
palm. With his other hand wrapped around the base of Dio's cock, he slowly
drags his mouth up the shaft. It's not like anything he's ever done before. He
has no frame of reference for this. Dio's cock twitches against his tongue and
Dio makes a rumbling sound deep in his chest, like far off thunder before a
storm hits. Pucci makes eye contact with him before he look away again and
licks along the head of Dio's cock. He likes that, and Pucci doesn't mind it
either. The taste reminds him of swimming in the ocean, of licking his lips
after the first dive in when you haven't gotten used to the taste of the waters
yet and it's still so salty. He licks Dio again and then mimics what he's read
in books and slips the head into his mouth, sucking gently on it.
The point of this isn't to bring Dio to completion with his mouth and hands, no
matter how tempted he might be to do that. Pucci doesn't have the ability to
suck him down deep enough and he doesn't want to make a fool of himself gagging
on Dio's cock, not their first time. So he slips his mouth off and gets back to
running his tongue along the shaft, trying to coat every last inch of him in
saliva.
Pucci sucks and licks at Dio until his cock is throbbing in Pucci’s fist, until
he's slick and wet and even Dio himself is straining to remain still, with his
hands above his head. Only then does Pucci take his hand off Dio. He lifts
himself up and crawls back up Dio's body, once again settling himself on those
wide hips. There's nothing to hide Pucci's erection this time, but even though
he's embarrassed, he focuses instead on the way Dio's looks right now, spread
out and yielding to Pucci. Dio stares right back, those hungry eyes sweeping
down Pucci’s body to take him in. "Will you still stop if I touch you?"
"In a heartbeat. I want this to be more than you taking my virginity." He
settles back against Dio's cock. It slides between his cheeks and Pucci closes
his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by how it feels to have bare flesh on flesh.
It's different than grinding with both their clothes on. Pucci takes a breath,
feeling himself calm down a little before he opens his eyes. He starts to move,
his hips going in circles as he grinds on Dio's cock. "I want to be more than a
novelty."
Dio laughs a little, his voice going high each time Pucci grinds down. His
fingers twitch, his hands closing and opening as he forces himself to leave
them where they're lying on the bed. "You could never be a novelty to me."
Sweet words, but Pucci wants them to be true and not just flattery. So he
smiles and he rocks back on Dio. It's easier to do this now that he's wet and
Pucci digs his knees into the bedspread, thighs holding tight to Dio's waist as
Pucci rocks his hips back and forth. Dio's cock slips between his cheeks,
rubbing against him, even prodding now and then at his entrance. He's so quiet,
but Pucci can see how his body begins to grow restless as he's forced to let
someone else guide how things go.
Pucci's hard and wanting but he ignores his needs for as long as he can,
focusing only on impressing Dio. His hips rock back and forth and then grind
down side to side, his eyes on Dio’s face to try judge what he likes most.
Pucci's hands keep him upright, one on Dio's waist the the other reaching
behind him to hold onto a knee, using both as leverage as he sways back and
forth against Dio's cock. It's so hard to tell how turned on Dio is. Is he
nearly ready to come? Or is he still so far away, in need of more attention
than even Pucci can provide?
"You don’t need to neglect yourself for my sake, Pucci. I can see how desperate
you are to be touched." Dio looks up at Pucci from under his eyes, his mouth
twisting into a small smirk. He's tempting Pucci, coaxing him into dropping his
guard and giving in. Those broad hands flex where they’re lying on the bed,
fingers crooked to invite Pucci to come closer. "You could come up here and
I'll suck you off."
Pucci shivers at the though, his cock bobbing a little. The mental image is
vivid and lurid, inviting him to give him. He bites lightly on his lip to
compose himself. It's so tempting. But a lifetime of resisting temptation comes
in handy, letting Pucci starve out this offer of kindness that he knows will
come with not-so-hidden strings. The moment he yields to Dio is the moment he
loses any power he had, forever. Dio will remember his failures more than he’ll
ever remain anything else of Pucci’s.
"Good things come to those who wait." He mutters softly to himself, a sharp
reminder that he needs to focus on this. There will be time to come later. He
grasps briefly at prime numbers to delay at his quickly peaking arousal,
holding off the desire to lose himself in Dio’s body and come. Pucci speaks in
a loud and commanding tone that mimics the kinds of powerful men he longs to
become. “I know what I want. You’re going to come for me first.”
“And if I don’t?” He hands start to drop, slowly creeping down the bed. It’s
almost physically painful for Pucci to lift himself off of Dio, but he does it,
bringing his hips up and away from Dio’s hardon. He wants nothing more than to
push back down but he stays where he is, staring down at Dio. He doesn’t budge,
but neither do Dio’s hands.
“If I have to leave, I will. Even with a hard-on, I'll leave." Pucci says and
he means it. He knows it. If he has to, he will get up and leave. This only
works if he’s serious.
Those sharp white teeth flash between Dio’s lips and for a second, he's sure
that Dio’s going to finally move. He waits for everything to change, but
nothing happens. Well… almost nothing. There’s a strange after-impression on
his hips, as if he was touched there for a moment, even though Dio’s hands have
stayed on the bed. Dio’s face smoothes out and he raises his hands high again,
back to where they were before. “I want you to stay, Enrico. Gravity brought us
together.”
“Then I’ll stay.” Pucci settles himself back on Dio. He leans his weight back,
pinning Dio’s cock beneath his ass again. As he starts to rock down, his hips
end up shoving into the air. Pucci’s hard as each thrust up against nothing
makes his cock bob. Each rock down gets a reaction from Dio’s cock, which
twitches with each pressure down. Dio’s face is perfectly controlled, but the
rest of him is starting to show signs that he’s about to come. “As long as
you’ll have me, I’ll stay. But-”
“But?” Dio smiles. There’s laughter in his voice, something between mocking and
genuine delight. “Most come to me without demands.”
“I don’t want to be another face in a crowd of followers. I don’t want to be
another conquest.” Pucci tells Dio, even as he grinds away. He’s so hard that
it’s starting to hurt. Pucci’s cock throbs and he holds himself as straight as
he can, desperately trying to coax Dio into coming. “I want to walk with you in
the shade. I want to be by your side when the world kneels willingly at your
feet.”
Dio moves quicker than Pucci expected. He’s lying one moment, and then he’s
sitting up the next, an arm around Pucci’s waist and his other hand on Pucci’s
back to keep him from falling over. It’s almost a little frightening how
quickly he moves when he wants to. Dio kisses him then and though Pucci should
leave like he said he would, he can bear to hold himself apart when he wants
nothing more than to melt into Dio’s touch. He kisses back and he closes his
eyes, cursing himself for giving in so easily. He’s failing, he’s just a touch
away from spoiling it all.
His thighs wrap tight around Dio’s waist, or as tight as he can when Dio’s
torso is as large as it is. He keeps grinding away. Maybe, just maybe, if he
tries hard enough-
Dio makes the softest sound, more of a hiss then a moan. His body goes still
and Pucci feels the sudden splash of something hot and wet against his ass.
Dio’s cock twitches as he comes and Pucci’s face is burning up, his eyes locked
on Dio’s face as his features are pulled and distorted by what he’s feeling.
Pucci did this. Even if he fails at everything else he meant to here, at least
he did this. At least he held himself off long enough to feel Dio come first.
Pucci kisses his way into that hissing mouth, not caring as he cuts himself on
those sharp fangs, not when he wants so badly to celebrate this. He’s done it,
he’s done it.
When his cock’s finished spilling and it pulses fruitlessly against Pucci’s
skin, only then does Dio kiss back. He presses a palm over Pucci’s cock and
strokes him. He only needs a single squeeze from Dio’s hand and then he’s
crying out as his first orgasm tears through him.
It’s not like what they said. The books said it was like fireworks and
champagne corks. The boys said it was messy and felt good, like scratching a
deep down itch. Nobody told him how physical it was. His body wants to break
itself, all of his muscles pulling tight like he’s been shocked with
electricity. He feels for a moment like he might break a bone or pull a muscle.
Then he can’t think at all because the orgasm hits him and spreads through his
body, an overwhelming blast of something that’s both pleasure and pain all
smashed into one impossible sensation.
It hurts, but in the good way, the best possible way. He arches up against
Dio’s body, his hips thrusting forward mindlessly against Dio’s palm. Dio keeps
touching Pucci, stroking him until it becomes too much and then he’s pushing
that big hand away, desperate to stop the live-wire of pain that his cock’s
become. Everything from mid-chest to mid-thigh is hot and twitching and yet he
feels like he’s liquid as well, like he’ll never be solid again.
Pucci’s body gives out and it’s only Dio’s hands that keep him upright. They
bring him forward, tucking Pucci against his chest, and that’s where he lies as
he pants away. His mind feels completely fogged over and as the overwhelming
sensation subsides, he’s left feeling exhausted and weightless.
No wonder the priest told him not to ever go down this path. He can see clearly
how addictive it all would be, both the physical side of it, and also the
thrill he felt when Dio came. Pucci’s tempted to close his eyes and stay right
where he is against Dio’s chest, but he makes himself sit up instead. He feels
so clumsy but he’s determined not to just lie here, “Dio-”
“Enough.” Dio tightens the arm around Pucci’s waist. He cups the back of
Pucci’s head with his other hand and just holds him tight. “You’ve proven
yourself. You made me, Dio, yield to you.”
“No. Not yielded.” Pucci says softly. This wasn’t yielding or surrender or any
kind. But, he does let himself lean against Dio’s chest, his head resting
against that vast shoulder. “It wasn’t that. I just… I couldn’t fail. I
couldn’t let you go to them, not when I knew I could do it.”
Dio’s silent a long time. Pucci’s eyes slide shut. It’s hard to stay awake
after he’s come, and when he’s being held like this. Finally, Dio moves, his
hand sliding down to rest on Pucci’s back. His fingers stroke over the flesh,
pushing down slightly, but not pushing in.
“It wouldn’t have been failing to give yourself to me.” Dio says. He sounds
different when Pucci has an ear pressed to his chest. “It would have been
falling.”
Pucci’s nearly asleep. That’s why he huffs slightly and says, “I already fell.”
He bunches his fist up and rests his knuckles against Dio’s chest. There’s no
sound from Dio, no heartbeat, no breathing, just soothing silence as his
fingernails drag along Pucci’s spine. “I’m already yours. But-”
“But,” Dio says, and Pucci can’t finish the words. He just lies there and
thinks them silently as he starts to drift. Pucci is already Dio’s. But he
wants Dio to be his as well. He wants to be equal. He wants to walk beside him
in the shade. Dio says something, but Pucci’s gone and the words slip away from
him, like sand through his fingers.
He’ll ask him again later, when he wakes, if he remembers.
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