[Fanfic] The Promise 9b/10
Title: The Promise 9b/10
Authors: Sakuratsukikage and Berseker
Rating: PG-15 / SEX. LOTS OF IT. Even more than in the previous chapter. No, really, consider yourself warned. THERE'S A LOT OF SEX HERE.
Pairings: Brazil/Argentina
Summary: Luciano wants to make it last.
Part 9A: Martín grinned, laughing in a way that was... just happy, really, not like he was laughing at Luciano at all. Luciano couldn't seem to get his breath. It was too much - Martín was too beautiful, happy and laughing like that, and he was happy because he was here with Luciano, and all the sensations - his naked skin was pressed against Martín's for almost their whole bodies, and it was so warm, and - and real, and it was - all too much. He just - he couldn't seem to - he dropped his head to rest against Martín's chest, and he could hear the rhythm of his heart and for a second that was all he could do. Lie there and listen to Martín's heart pounding and try to remember how to breathe.
"Luciano?" Martín said after a moment. His hand landed on Luciano's hair, then stroked through it, his fingers tangling with the strands. He did that a lot, Luciano thought. Even though his hair was always tangled, he didn't seem to mind. He brushed Luciano's hair off his forehead, behind his ear, almost combing his fingers through it.
Martín shifted under him and then his lips pressed against Luciano's hair, then downward, against his forehead. Luciano sighed, blew his breath out, then pushed himself up onto his forearms again.
Martín smiled up at him, and Luciano found himself smiling back, even though his breath wanted to stop in his throat again at the sight of it. He really was beautiful. He shifted onto one arm, skimmed the other down over Martín's side, over his hip, down the outside of his thigh, then shifted back onto his knees so he could do the same with his other hand down his other side. Martín flushed, sighing, and Luciano leaned down to press a kiss to his shoulder, down over his chest, running his hand up over his knee to the inside of his thigh. Martín sighed again, and his hand ran through Luciano's hair to curl around the back of his neck. His palm felt damp, sweaty - Luciano wondered if it were desire or nerves. Or maybe - probably? - both. "So," he said, trailing his mouth down over Martín's ribs, down over stomach. He glanced around at his bed - wide enough for two people to lie next to each other, but it would be awkward to lie at an angle. "How about you sit here at the edge of the bed?" he asked.
"Hmm?" Martín's eyes opened, and he blinked up at him.
Luciano grinned. "Well," he said, "I said I'd suck you off, didn't I? It'll be easier if you're at the edge of the bed."
"Ah - yes. Listen..." he licked his lips, still nervous, but then changed his mind, "Right, then. If you-"
"I want to," Luciano said. Then he added, just in case, "Of course, it's fine if you don't, just let me know. But if you're worried about me, I -"
"No, I just thought I should -"
They both stopped. Then Luciano laughed, and it made Martín smile too, reassured. He sat up, and Luciano kissed him again, because it felt so right and natural to do it, and then for a fraction of a second they were so.... so together, both of them naked there and kissing and laughing and Martín's eyes were so alight with happiness and want that he was sure he would like the answer and then the words just came and he let them out, before he could change his mind:
"Just promise you won't despise me later, all right?"
Martín's eyes flashed, and his voice sound almost insulted:
"Don't be stupid, I would never despise you! I'm just - I should - wash first. So you -"
Luciano didn't laugh. He had to bite the inside of his mouth, but he managed it, somehow, because Martín would think he was making fun of him and he would never understand that he was just happier than he had ever been, and - maybe a little amused too because he was embarrassed and it was so unexpected and more endearing than it had any right to be, so he kissed him again, and shook his head and slid down to the floor.
Martín sat up. He grabbed the pillow, and for a second Luciano thought he would hug it, but then Martín gave it to him.
"Thank you," Luciano said, touched. He placed it under his knees, "Now... so... you have done this before, right? I mean, had it done to you?"
"Yes, but it doesn't count," Martín said. He wasn't looking at his eyes, and he was still red all over and Luciano wanted to say he was doing great, but that would sound condescending and he knew Martín wouldn't appreciate it. So he just waited until Martín was sitting in front of him, and he didn't laugh again, even if Martín had his legs closed and was taking deep breaths now and come on.
"Why not?" He rested his hand over Martín's knees. "What are you thinking?"
"Something stupid."
"Tell me."
"I don't want to."
Luciano shook his head again, and then kissed his knee. He made him spread his legs, his palm against Martín's thighs, and then Martín leaned forward and hugged him, pulling Luciano's head to his chest, and it was so sudden that it made him slip out of the pillow, and then Martín hid his face on his hair and - what-
"I was thinking, if you must know, that it's because it wasn't with you." He kissed his hair again, and Luciano hugged his waist and kissed his belly, because it was the most available part and because he wanted Martín to... remember this, that Luciano could kiss his whole body if he wanted to, all of it, and open his mouth and taste his skin and mark it, because he was his, he had just said it, but- later. He could tell him later. They would have time.
He took the pillow, and placed it under his knees again. Now Martín had his legs spread open for him, so Luciano started to caress him slowly, first with his hands, massaging his inner thighs, and the skin there was soft, and - he had touched him there before, and he wondered if Martín remembered. Once when he undressed him, and then rubbed that wet cloth over his body, and before that too, when he searched him for weapons and to humiliate him. Maybe this would make up for it, because he was kneeling here and trying to please him and all and he could see Martín holding his breath, and closing his eyes, and that made him smile. He kissed his thigh just because he could, and to prove the same point, because Martín would have to - to go back, eventually, because he had his life in Buenos Aires and even if he came here often he would have to be away, too, and he didn't want to think about it now, but when it happened, he wanted Martín to remember it. Wanted him to think about it and remember his mouth - since he liked it so much and all - all over his body.
Martín was fully aroused now, so - that meant he enjoyed having his thighs caressed like that and Luciano thought it was only fair because his legs were really great, and he was tensing up, too, as if struggling to stay still. He touched him, then, first very lightly, brushing his fingers on his erection, and that made Martín gasp. He hadn't touched him there before. He had wanted to, but hadn't, first to prove a point, when he searched him, to show he could get Martín aroused without even working at it, and that felt so petty now, so he tried to forget it. And later because... he hadn't. He had touched his legs and his chest and had kissed his mouth but hadn't touched him there.
He teased him for a while, soft touches while he kissed and licked his inner thighs and touched his member, feeling the soft hair against his fingers and his cheek - blond, too, and a little darker, and Luciano had seen it before, of course, he had seen everything, as Martín had said it, but it always surprised him, how... golden he was, all of him.
He knew how to do this. How to touch and move his fingers and his hand and he had done it before, of course, but it felt different, it was stupid but it did, just like kissing him felt different than kissing anyone else and every person was unique but it was different than that too, it was... something else, being here, doing this to him, and listening to his gasps and how he was trying, and failing to be silent. How he could feel the strained muscles of his legs. He almost told him to relax, to move around if he wanted to, and maybe he should have let him lie down. Or not. Maybe this was perfect just the way it was.
So set his own pace, licking, making it as wet as possible and letting his lips brush over his member and listening for his gasps and light moans and he let his hands explore his legs too, since he wasn't using them anyway, and he liked his legs and this was fun, everything, his taste and smell and the little sounds he made and his hand trembling on his hair and now he was holding the strands between his fingers and still not pulling, Luciano had to give him credit for that. He was touching the back of his neck now, so Luciano thought he would - maybe - like to... push his face in, or something like that, if he could, and the idea was arousing, made his blood boil too, and it was so crazy that the idea of giving him pleasure could be so powerful.
Well. So much for straightforward.
He looked up, to Martín's bright flushed face, and smiled, and kissed the tip of his member. That made Martín whimper and close his eyes tight and bite his lip. Luciano opened his mouth and started to take him in, carefully, covering his teeth with his lips so he wouldn't accidentally hurt him or anything, and Martín's hand tightened on his hair, and he was grabbing the bed sheets and twisting it between his fingers too, and sort of arching his back and - pushing it deeper inside Luciano's mouth, so he held his hips. He would let him thrust all he wanted later, but now he held him still, and Martín's skin felt warm, and damp with sweat, and Luciano paused for a moment to get used to his size, and to let him feel it, the warmth and the pressure from his lips and everything, and then he started it again, sucking and licking the underside of his member and now Martín was moaning, and pulling at his hair, but Luciano could take it.
He kept his hands on his hips, pulling him closer to the edge of the bed so he could take it all in, and Martín was so - noisy and silent at the same time, he was panting and gasping and moaning and whimpering and biting his lips to keep from screaming, which was probably good, or people could hear, but he wanted to listen to it, to see what kind of sounds he would make if he could let go, and he almost stopped to tell him, to say he could just do whatever he wanted to because Luciano wanted to know everything, but he didn't, Martín would think he was complaining and it was the total opposite of that. And that, the sounds, the heat, the touch, the taste, the simple undeniable fact that he was here and enjoying it, was making Luciano dizzy with just how much he wanted him, and that idea, the feeling, was growing until there was nothing else he could think about, and he could tell Martín was getting closer, so he let go of his hip and pushed his hand between his own thighs, because now it felt like all the blood he had was pooling there and going to his head at the same time, somehow, if that was even possible, and he needed to -
"W-wait," Martín said, and it sounded breathy and raspy and forced and he held Luciano's shoulder, then his arm, like he couldn't control his own moves, "Wait, don't - we - wait -"
Even his breath sounded trembling. He held his arm tight, and then his chin, and Luciano let him guide him, confused, until he was out of his mouth and then he said, Martín's hand still on his chin:
"I'm sorry, I thought you were enjoying it," and Martín touched his lips with a trembling hand, sort of almost pushing his fingers inside his mouth, and Luciano wasn't completely sure he had planned that but hey, why not, so he licked his fingers too. That made Martín whimper again.
"I was, I am, very - I - we should - you, I want you to - I want to do something too, to you, you can't-"
"But -"
"I want it," Martín said, and it sounded almost like an order, shaky and panting like it was, and then the words made sense, what he was saying, and Luciano felt the warmth flowing into him, sweeter than he thought it could be possible.
He sat on the floor, and it was good, his knees were starting to bother him, pillow and all, except he wasn't even thinking about it until now and held Martín's hips again and pulled him closer, and then Martín fell off the bed or maybe he got out on his own, but he fell on his lap, over his legs, and then he threw his arms around Luciano's shoulders and kissed his mouth. Just like that, his tongue inside his mouth and he wasn't thinking right, of course, but he was kissing his mouth and all those sounds, the way he moaned into the kiss and so he wasn't - thinking anything bad about it, for real, he didn't want to pull away, he was kissing his lips and sucking and almost biting and Luciano thought they should breathe and he had warned him it would be hard but that wasn't exactly what he had in mind and he couldn't worry about it now.
Not when Martín was kissing him like that. It felt so right. Luciano had to raise his head to kiss him, had to look up, Martín was taller and heavy and wrong and so precious and beautiful and Luciano wanted him and now that felt right too, to let the feeling take over and erase everything else, the fear and hurt and regret and the resentment, all of it, and just let himself want, and hold him, and feel the way his erection pressed against his and how his mouth covered his lips and his hands on his back and his hair and -
"You can - take me. I want that," Martín said. His eyes were so green, dazzled and half-shut. Luciano could see the marks on his lips were he had been biting and the cut from yesterday at that café.
"We don't have to," he whispered, and then Martín frowned, so he rushed to say, "I'm fine, I really am, I'm - loving this, believe me. We can wait."
"I want it," Martín said. He hid his face in Luciano's neck, and then started to kiss it, and Luciano had to force himself to remember why he was saying anything, instead of just doing it, and ah right, yes, Martín had no idea what he was asking. Right.
"We don't need to go all the way now, we can take it slowly, and then you can -"
"You don't want me?"
What.
"Of course I do, that's - that's obvious! I'm just -"
"Then do it," Martín said, "I want you."
It sounded so unbearably sweet. Like he had no idea which words he should say to explain it, and was just doing it anyway, and Luciano wasn't sure he hadn't maybe forced him, he would have to find a way to say these things without... challenging him, he would have to consider that, next time, too, because Martín was an idiot like that, and then Martín got his silence wrong, so he kept talking:
"Two years, I had two years to think about it, and I know what I want! So if you want me -"
"I do, I just - this can..."
Hurt a little? Feel a little strange? Come on, Martín had been surprised when he touched his nipples. Now if he would just let Luciano focus enough to remember it, it would be great, really, why did he have to be so... so like this.
"-be a little too much," he said, lamely, and it was all wrong but he couldn't think of anything better, and he would explain it, if Martín stopped kissing his neck so he could get his brain to work.
"You keep doing this," Martín said. Now he was kissing his earlobe, "You think - I'm not - you think I don't know what I'm saying, I waited too long for this and I want it and you know I never do anything I don't want to, you know that, so - stop teasing me!"
"I'm not! I just don't want to, to scare you out of having sex ever again, you can't blame me for that!"
Were they really arguing now? He couldn't believe it. Martín raised his head and glared at him, as much as he could with his face still burning and his lips swollen from the kisses and from his own bites, the idiot:
"With you? How could I," he said, and it did sound like a challenge, "What happened to unforgettable?"
And then he kissed his mouth again, and all Luciano could think was I'll never live this down will I and then he knew he had lost. So he just kissed Martín back, as firmly as he could, and curled his arms around his back to hold him close, his body warm and eager next to his.
"Well, fine," he said. "If that's what you want, then we'll do that." Martín grinned, and he could see the triumph there in his face, the satisfaction, but again it was so strangely, unexpectedly sweet, somehow, because he looked happy, really happy, and not just because he'd gotten what he wanted, or anything, just... because.
Luciano took a deep breath and ran his hand up the curve of Martín's back. Because he could. "Okay," he said. "So. We'll need to do this on the bed, so..." he started to stand, pulling Martín with him. Martín obliged him, getting to his feet, then bent to pick up the pillow and toss it back onto the bed. Luciano smiled at him, kissed him again. "Hold on just a second," he said. "I have to get something. You can lie down or... whatever you want to do." He smiled again, trying to be reassuring, and then moved to go through the chest of drawers in the corner of his room, trying to find the oil he kept in there, though he hadn't used it for anything in what felt like forever. When he finally found it and turned around again, he saw Martín still standing in the middle of the room, watching him with a hard to read expression on his face. "What is it?" he asked, feeling suddenly a little self-conscious all over again.
"Mm, nothing," Martín said quickly, but his face flushed, so Luciano figured he was just feeling nervous again. "Is that for what I think it is?"
Luciano wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that question. What did Martín think it was, anyway? And how was he supposed to know? "It'll make things easier, that's all," he said.
"Mmm," Martín said. He bit his lip and looked down. Again. Luciano tried not to sigh - he crossed the room back to him and kissed him until he was sure he'd stopped biting his lip, then kissed him again, just because, sliding his free hand back into his hair. He tried hard to keep from smiling.
"It'll be all right," he said. "Really."
"I know that," Martín said, his voice huffy.
"All right. How about you lie down on the bed, then?"
Martín opened his mouth as if to say something, then bit his lip - again - and nodded. He sat down on the bed, and Luciano wondered if he should ask him what position he'd rather be in, or not - he was already so tense, bringing that up again might only make it worse, but... should he tell him to lie on his back? His stomach? Stomach would be easier, it was the easiest position for a first time, but then he wouldn't be able to see his face, and - well, Luciano wanted to see his face, this time, that was all, but he didn't want to make things uncomfortable for him, if- Martín looked up at him, and there was a nakedly uncertain look on his face that Luciano hadn't seen there before.
His face was still flushed, and there was a mix of desire and nervousness in his eyes. He looked almost impatient. Well, Luciano supposed he was taking - sort of a long time, and - "Come on," Martín said, but it was in a low voice, little more than a whisper.
"All right," Luciano said. He took a deep breath and then leaned forward to kiss Martín, again - he didn't think he'd ever get tired of doing that, not ever - and Martín's hand came up to the back of his neck, fumbling and then gripping tightly. His palm was still very damp. Luciano opened his mouth, pressed closer, into the kiss, and Martín let him push him backward, letting his other arm fall back to brace him against the bed. His eyes slid closed as Luciano slipped his tongue over his lower lip, into his mouth, and his hand tightened against Luciano's neck.
Luciano kissed him for a long moment, feeling the change as Martín tilted his head into the kiss, opened his own mouth eagerly in response, his body shifting against Luciano's as he let him press him down into the bed. Luciano could feel Martín's erection against his own hip, hard and heavy, and that was good, that meant he was still enjoying this, he wasn't too nervous, at least not yet, so - that was good. It was getting more and more difficult for him to concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing, rather than just the feeling of kissing Martín, of lying against him, the smooth solid heat of his skin, the warmth of his body, his own desire fracturing his thoughts until all he wanted to do was rub his own arousal against Martín, feeling pressure and friction and the warmth of his skin until - until - but no, Martín wanted him to - inside him, he'd said, so... so yes. That was what Luciano was going to do.
He pulled away from the kiss finally, gasping, and let his lips drift over the side of Martín's mouth and his cheek, press there, against his cheekbone, the edge of his jaw. "I - I'm clean, you know," he said, feeling his cheeks burn, but it was an important thing to say. "I mean, I don't have any diseases, or anything. I've always been careful. I know that's - but I didn't - don't - want you to worry."
Martín didn't even stop to think. "I wasn't worried."
"Then now you won't have to be," Luciano said. He kissed Martín's cheek again, and smiled at the way Martín's lips shifted, a soft, tiny little smile, at the gesture. He kissed Martín's jaw, the place where it softened just beneath his ear, and laughed when Martín twitched, squirming slightly beneath him. "Does that tickle?" he breathed.
Martín gave a huffing breath through his nose. "No," he said. "Stop doing that."
Luciano grinned and pressed a light kiss there before letting his tongue flicker against the skin. Martín made a small, strangled sort of sound, and his neck flushed furiously. Luciano kissed him there again, with his mouth open this time, and smiled as Martín squirmed again under him. "I can see that," he murmured, turning to rest his lips against his jaw.
"Stop - teasing me," Martín gasped. He turned his head enough to press his lips against Luciano's, though the angle was clumsy. Luciano shifted, pushing himself up on one arm to kiss him more thoroughly, so that he wouldn't have to twist his neck at an angle to do it. Martín sighed and his hand came up to sink into Luciano's hair, gripping the back of his head.
Luciano pulled away from the kiss just long enough to whisper against Martín's skin, "All right, then, are you ready?"
"Are you kidding?" Martín bit out, and his voice was hoarse, rasping. "I'm more than ready, if you don't get on with it I'll-"
"Okay, okay," he kissed Martín again, quickly, running his hand down his side, over his hip, to slide under his thigh and lift it, pressing Martín's knee toward his chest, bending to kiss Martín again as he settled himself between his legs. Martín sighed against his mouth and let himself be pushed flat against the bed, his hand clenching in Luciano's hair.
Luciano struggled not to get distracted by - everything, everything from the heat of Martín's mouth and the softness of his lips to the way his hand gripped his hair, the way he smelled, desire and sweat and Martín's cologne and just Martín, the feeling of his body beneath him on the bed, the open vulnerability in the position Martín had willingly let Luciano push him into, on his back in the bed, with his knee curled up against his chest and his foot in the air. Luciano fumbled with the bottle of oil, then realized he'd need both his hands, so he nudged Martín's foot over to rest against his shoulder, letting himself pull away from the kiss.
He'd expected the position to be a little awkward, a little bit of a stretch, but Martín's leg went easily, and Luciano blinked, realizing that he was a lot more flexible than he'd realized. That... well, it filled his head with all kinds of images and ideas, but that - that would have to wait, and they'd have time. He just had to remember that. They'd have time, all the time they wanted. He distracted himself from the surge of confused, jumbled emotions by opening the bottle and slicking his fingers with the oil.
He reached down between their bodies to take hold of Martín's erection with his slippery hand, stroking up and down once, twice, until Martín moaned and his hand was clenching tight against the back of Luciano's head, the other twisting fitfully in the blankets. Only then did Luciano slide his hand down to brush his fingers over the sensitive skin to the small opening between Martín's buttocks. His skin felt warm there, almost feverishly warm, though not the searing heat of his erection. He swirled his first finger around it and Martín gasped, panting, against his neck. Luciano turned his head just enough to kiss his hair, the top of his ear, and then pressed the finger into him.
Martín made a small noise, and his hand clenched into a fist over the blankets, his lips compressing tightly. Luciano knew it felt strange at first, but he wasn't sure if he should try to reassure him or just continue on with what he was doing. He settled on sliding his other arm around Martín's shoulders as he worked his finger further inside him. His shoulders were trembling, the muscles taut with tension. "You need to relax, Martín," he said, softly, into his ear, and was that his own voice? It sounded hoarse, thick and breathy.
"How am I supposed to -" Martín started, his voice drawn tight, brittle, with that same tension, so Luciano kissed him, teasing his tongue with his own until it responded, until Martín tilted his head back against Luciano's arm over his shoulders and his muscles relaxed. It was... quite a kiss, Luciano could say that for it, and he let it go on for a long few moments before he pressed his finger further into Martín's body, circling it in small, slow movements until Martín gave a sharp gasp against his mouth and trembled so that Luciano could feel the tremors throughout his whole body.
"There," he whispered against Martín's lips, which were damp, swollen, wet from kissing. "Was that good?"
"What was that?" Martín whispered. His eyes were very wide, his pupils dilated.
Luciano shrugged. He didn't really know the details, which was what he assumed Martín had meant. He just knew that it felt amazing, and that was what really mattered when it came to this kind of thing. "Something that makes this feel really good," he said, and circled his finger again, brushing over that spot. Martín made a small noise that was half gasp, half yelp, and his body jerked. "It's good, right?" he asked, prompted, pressing another kiss to Martín's cheek.
Martín sucked in his breath, holding it for a moment as if he couldn't quite admit it, then nodded tightly. Luciano wanted to say something to reassure him, something crazy that would probably just annoy Martín anyway, so he stroked his shoulder with his hand, the side of his neck, before sliding another finger into him.
Martín bit his lip, and his eyelashes fluttered down over his eyes - he felt so tight around Luciano's fingers that he was worried he'd hurt him as he spread them apart, trying to stretch him out, to spread the slickness of the oil within him as thoroughly as possible. He took his time - as much as he'd have loved to hurry, his own desire a throbbing ache in his groin, pounding in his pulse and in the back of his head, turning his mouth dry. He was going to be slow and careful if it killed him. He kissed Martín again, trying to draw his attention away from the fingers working inside him until he relaxed again and he was shuddering with every brush of Luciano's fingers to that spot.
Martín pulled away from the kiss, gasping for air. He moaned as Luciano's finger skimmed over that spot again, his shoulders twitching slightly against the bed. "You can..." he said, his voice sounding heavy and just as thick as Luciano's had, "you can go ahead."
"You're still really tight," Luciano told him, spreading his fingers again. Martín groaned, and tossed his head against the sheets. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I can take it," Martín said. "I - I'll be tight no matter what, right?"
Luciano had to admit that it was probably true. Martín was nervous, tense; he'd never done this before, and, if he felt anything like Luciano did at that moment, his every sense was working twice as hard as normal, his body shuddering with adrenaline and desire and emotion all at once, his nerves tangled and dancing with it. "I'm afraid," he started, and had to swallow as his voice failed, thickened and broke, "I'm afraid I - won't be able to go slowly." He pulled his fingers out of Martín, slicked them with more oil, and coaxed them back into his body. "I'm not going to let it hurt for you," he murmured. Martín groaned again as he pressed his fingers against that spot inside him, rubbed them in a circle there until he was moaning for breath and arching his back against the bed, his leg flexing against Luciano's shoulder.
"Th-th-that," Martín gasped after a moment, obviously struggling to catch his breath, "that doesn't h-hurt, Luciano."
Luciano spread his fingers apart, stretching Martín as widely as he could. "Does this?" he asked.
Martín hesitated, biting his lip. "No," he mumbled after a moment. "It just feels strange."
"Mm," Luciano agreed. He pulled his fingers away to slick them again, applying new oil around the opening before he slid them inside it again, smiling a bit when Martín gasped, his leg flexing against his shoulder. He usually didn't take anything like this much time and energy just to prepare someone, though he was always careful, but this - this was different. "Just humor me, all right?" he said, kissing Martín's shoulder. In this position Martín's leg was practically pressed flat against his chest, and yet he still didn't seem uncomfortable. "You're pretty flexible," Luciano managed to gasp.
Martín smiled. "Am I?" he whispered.
Luciano nodded. "Can you get your ankle behind your head?" he asked, grinning against Martín's skin.
Martín gasped as Luciano shifted his fingers inside him again. "N-not and have sex at the same time," he said unevenly.
Luciano laughed. "No," he agreed. "I wouldn't try that." He kissed the side of Martín's neck, laving his tongue against the skin. "But can you?" he breathed into Martín's ear.
"I-I've never tried," Martín said breathlessly. "A-are we going to do this anytime soon?"
"You're so impatient," Luciano said, shifting over Martín to press another kiss to his lips. He added a third finger, and this time Martín didn't wince, or clench his body defensively around his fingers in response.
"You're damn right I am," Martín said breathily. His fingers tugged at Luciano's hair. "I- I've waited two years for this, you know, and - and all I want is you inside me, Luciano, please, I-" he bit his lip again, chewed on it until Luciano kissed him, pulling his lips into a kiss. His own groin throbbed eagerly, reminding him of how much, how desperately, he wanted just that. When he thought about it - he couldn't believe this, he really couldn't. He would have been more than content, would have been thrilled, to suck Martín off and use his own hand for himself. This was too much, thinking about it made him start to shake, made him want to hold onto Martín and never let go.
Martín bit lightly at his lower lip, making Luciano gasp, then slid his hand from the bed up over his back, the light touch making Luciano shiver, before he slid that hand in between them to close around Luciano's erection. Luciano made a breathless sound he couldn't even categorize and barely caught himself before he fell onto Martín's chest. His fingers jerked inside of Martín and he gasped, his body shuddering at the unintended movement so that his hand tightened around Luciano until Luciano could barely breathe. "Luciano," he practically growled, and slid his hand up Luciano's member, down to the base, and up again, until Luciano was seeing dancing white stars instead of Martín's face, could feel himself gasping heavily, his chest heaving as if he'd been running for miles, and he could hear his own voice moaning out loud, and he thought it was strange, how could he have enough blood to rush to his face and make his cheeks so hot if all of it was rushing to the touch of Martín's hand fast enough to leave him lightheaded.
"You're so... demanding," Luciano managed to gasp. He braced himself on one arm and pulled his fingers out of Martín, who shuddered as they were withdrawn but grinned up at him all the same.
"You love me anyway," he whispered, and Luciano shook his head and let himself lean down until their foreheads pressed tightly together. He closed his eyes.
"Yes," he said. His throat suddenly felt thick. "I do. I really do." He only realized there were tears pooling under his tightly shut lashes when he felt Martín kissing them away. His tongue slipped over the edge of Luciano's eyelid, curved just under his eyelashes, making Luciano's skin spark and tingle wherever it touched, wherever he licked the tears away.
"I know," Martín said softly. His hand stroked gently through Luciano's hair. "I know. I love you, too. I love you... I really love you."
How did he know? How did he know what Luciano needed him to say? Or did he not know, because it was Martín, after all, and he was just saying it anyway, and - and Luciano couldn't be doing this; he was supposed to be making love to... to his new lover, not having an emotional breakdown. Luciano took a deep breath, trying to ignore how it hitched, wavering, in his throat, and blinked furiously until he felt like he could open his eyes without betraying the tears in them.
"I-I'm sorry," he said, trying to smile. "I'm supposed to be doing something else right now." He skimmed his fingers down over Martín's lips, trying to ignore how badly they trembled, "but I do love you." He took another breath and busied himself with pouring more oil into his hand and rubbing it down over his own member, scooting back, even though it made the sensitive flesh explode into dizzying sensation, so soon after Martín's hand had squeezed him there, just making it even more sensitive, and he... really needed not to be thinking about that right now. Christ. He let go when he could feel himself dripping with it and closed the bottle, leaning over to drop it off over the edge of the bed.
Martín had let go, and was staring up at him, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. Luciano wasn't certain if the expression on his face was desire, or nerves, or what, or if Martín couldn't decide himself, but as he turned back to him he reached up and laid a hand on Luciano's hip. "Don't apologize," he said, then bit his lip, looked away, and patted Luciano's hip awkwardly. "Really, Luciano," he said. "Don't... don't apologize."
"I'll do my best," Luciano said, and he tried to smile. He could feel it going crooked on his face, so he leaned forward and kissed Martín lightly. "Okay," he said, and reached down to lift up Martín's other leg, spreading it wide, pushing it up toward his chest. God, he really was flexible. He took himself in his other hand and settled himself at what looked like the best angle before pushing forward into Martín.
Martín gasped, and his hand dug into Luciano's skin, coming up to grip wildly at his back. He moaned, and Luciano wasn't entirely sure if it was a moan of pleasure, or simply of overwhelmed sensation, or pain, or what. He clenched one hand into a fist, struggling to stay still, but that was easier than he'd have expected, concentrating on Martín's face, brilliantly flushed, his eyes squeezing shut, then fluttering open again like he couldn't decide which was better, biting his lip again, of course. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when Martín twitched his hips up toward him, dragging Luciano toward him with the hand on his back. "Move," he gritted out.
"I don't want to -" Luciano managed to gasp.
"I don't care," Martín spat. "Move, Luciano."
Luciano gave him a careful look, but it was one thing holding himself still under his own power, it was something entirely different to hold still while Martín was shifting back and forth around him as if trying to draw him further into him and ordering him to move. His eyes were burning, demanding green fire, and finally Luciano sighed and let himself buck forward like he wanted to, thrust into Martín until he hissed and squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back in a way that bared the arch of his throat. "You really are pretty demanding," Luciano managed to gasp as he dragged himself to a stop again. "What if I want a diff -different pace, huh?"
"Too bad," Martín whispered, and his voice cracked and broke until it was nearly a whimper. "O-oh, Dios mío." He brought his hand up and shoved it into his mouth.
Luciano grabbed it and tugged it away, squeezing it gently and trying to rub away the marks of Martín's teeth with his fingers. "What is it, love?" he asked, barely hearing the endearment as he struggled to stay still half-buried in Martín's tightness and heat rather than continuing to thrust into him, torn between desire and sudden, biting worry. "Talk to me, all right?"
Martín shook his head, stubbornly. His eyes were still squeezed shut.
"Is it too much?" Luciano asked. He realized belatedly that he was massaging Martín's hand, rubbing gently circles on it with his thumb, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to stop. "It was too much, right?"
"N-no," Martín said breathlessly. His body shuddered, and he tossed his head against the bed again, even though Luciano wasn't moving, his thighs trembling with the effort to remain still. "It's just - full. Really... ah. Full." He gasped, and Luciano could see sweat spring up along his hairline. "How will the rest of you fit, anyway?" Martín mumbled.
Luciano told himself firmly not to laugh, or even smile, and the effort that took distracted him from how badly he wanted to thrust into Martín, at least. "Your muscles will relax in a second," he said, reaching up with his free hand to rub it soothingly along the trembling muscles in Martín's thigh, even though his fingers were still slippery with oil. "It'll be easier then."
Martín nodded, his breath still coming in hoarse, heavy gasps like he was winded.
"You know," he said, still patting Martín's leg soothingly, moving his other hand up to stroke the inside of his wrist with his thumb, "we could turn you over, onto your stomach, it might make it easier -"
"No!" Martín said. His eyes flew open. Luciano blinked at him, surprised, and Martín flushed. "I want to - to look at you," Martín whispered after a moment. He looked away, his throat working, and his flush deepened.
Luciano squeezed his hand before he quite knew what he was doing. "Good," he said. "G-good, I'm glad."
Martín turned back to blink up at him. "Good?" he repeated. "You are?"
"I want to look at you, too," Luciano explained. His throat felt suddenly thick again, and he looked down, away, embarrassed. He distracted Martín by easing forward into him, just a bit, feeling his muscles unclenching, easing to allow the intrusion. "All right?" he whispered.
"Mmm," Martín said, his voice sounding tight. He jumped when Luciano slid his still oil-slick fingers up over his chest to tease one nipple, brushing it with his thumb, then leaned down to swipe his tongue over the other one before kissing it, open-mouthed, teasing it with his mouth. He shifted against the bed, one hand clenching and unclenching in the sheets, gasping breathlessly as Luciano finally pulled away, only to balance himself steady with one hand on Martín's thigh and push a bit further into him until he was fully sheathed inside him. Martín made a whining sound and bit his lip, pressing his lips closely together, but Luciano reached out to push his hair off his forehead, rubbing his cheek gently.
"Hurt?" he managed to gasp out, breathless.
Martín shook his head and pressed his face into Luciano's hand as if he didn't know what to say. His face was twisted up, his lips trembling. "I've never..." he started, but his voice broke, and he took a deep breath before he started again. "Never felt so-" He squeezed his eyes shut. "It's just- I- I've never had sex with you before," he managed after a long moment of breathing heavily. "It's - I can't-"
Luciano felt his cheeks flush and his throat tighten at that, and he didn't know what to tell Martín, not when he was having the same problem. And this was the first time Martín had ever felt this particular sensation, either, which had to add to all of it, and- no wonder he was a little overwhelmed, that was all. "It'll be all right," he whispered.
Martín nodded, after a moment. "Yes," he managed. Luciano shifted Martín's leg, letting it slip off his shoulder. Martín curled it around his back as he leaned forward to brace himself on his forearms on either side of Martín's head, stroking Martín's hair back from his face with his hands, letting his fingers play with the mussed golden strands. He kissed Martín's cheekbone, then the other one, the bridge of his nose, before he finally kissed him on the mouth again. The kiss was slow, and deep, the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, and by the time Luciano pulled away, he was gasping unevenly himself. He pushed himself back and up until he had a good angle, and then pulled out of Martín just enough to thrust back into him.
Martín gasped, one hand tightening on the sheets again, but he didn't seem truly uncomfortable, so Luciano let himself do it again, pulling further out this time. This time Martín gave a low, small groan, his thighs trembling, and his hand came up to bite into Luciano's back again, curving close around his side, the nails digging into his skin. Luciano barely noticed; he couldn't seem to think about much of anything but the heat of Martín's body, the tightness surrounding him, the sensation that went spiraling through him whenever he so much as shifted, exploding behind his eyes, and he had to control himself, or at least keep the pace slow at first, had to make it good for Martín, too. He thrust again, and Martín's nails were really leaving scratches against his side now, he thought, but it was hard to care. He shifted his position, slightly, just enough to change his angle just a bit, and pushed in again.
This time Martín gave a low cry, and his hand clenched on Luciano's back as he pressed his head back against the pillow. "Good?" Luciano managed to ask, and when Martín nodded, still breathing in uneven gasps, that was all the encouragement he needed. He let himself speed up, and now Martín was making the same sounds he had, earlier, panting and gasping and whimpering, and still biting his lip to keep back any louder sounds, and he almost wanted to tell him to stop worrying about it, to make any sounds he wanted to, but if Martín started screaming he didn't know how he'd explain it if anyone overheard.
He let himself settle into a rhythm, faster than he had been but not nearly as fast as his desire-scrambled nerves were screaming at him to move. He felt hot all over, and the heat only grew every time Martín groaned or cried out or tossed his head or... He could feel the back of his neck prickling, burning with heat; his hands felt very hot, even tangled in the bedsheets where he'd braced them to steady himself. He couldn't seem to look away from Martín, his face, his eyes, the expression there, breathless and overcome, and... Martín moaned, his hand sliding up Luciano's back to grip tightly at the back of his neck again. He was flushed all over, his mouth open, his erection desperately hard - he was close, Luciano thought dazedly, and with an effort stilled his movements until he was still, and panting with the exertion of simply making himself stop. He wasn't even sure why he'd done it, just that suddenly he didn't want this to be over yet, wanted all of it to... to last a little longer. He didn't want to have to let go of Martín, not yet.
He wasn't ready for this to be over.
Not just yet.
Martín whimpered, groaned, and then his eyes flickered open, staring dazedly up at Luciano. "What the -" he bit his lip again, let out a heavy breath, and cursed. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded. His hand tightened on Luciano's neck, and he shook him. "Don't - don't stop. Not now."
"I'm sorry," Luciano whispered. "Really. I just... want it to go on a little longer, all right?" He let himself lean forward, onto Martín, propping himself with one elbow, and reached out to touch his face. "I know I'm teasing you," he said.
Martín's eyes softened slightly. "Yes," he said, "you are." He leaned up and kissed Luciano's shoulder before he buried his face there. "But I guess I forgive you," he said. "And don't apologize." He sighed, heavily. "But you do realize this is the second time... I've been close today without -"
Luciano grinned slightly at the petulant tone in his voice. "I know," he said. "Really, I do. But it'll be memorable, I promise -"
"Memorable?" Martín huffed. "I'll probably expire on the spot after all this."
Luciano laughed, feeling his breath tickling the curve of Martín's ear. "No, you won't," he said. "I'll be careful. Not to kill you, I mean."
"You'd better be," Martín mumbled.
"I will," Luciano said. He stroked his hand over the back of Martín's head. He thought that it was true, he'd always be careful with Martín, and then he was curling his arm around his shoulders, hugging him tight to his chest, before he thought.
"Wha - what the hell?" Martín muttered against his shoulder.
"Nothing," Luciano managed. He pressed a kiss to Martín's forehead, "I won't stop again, all right?" he said. "This time I promise."
"Good," Martín said. "Because I love you, Luciano, but I will kill you if you do that again."
Tbc...
Authors: Sakuratsukikage and Berseker
Rating: PG-15 / SEX. LOTS OF IT. Even more than in the previous chapter. No, really, consider yourself warned. THERE'S A LOT OF SEX HERE.
Pairings: Brazil/Argentina
Summary: Luciano wants to make it last.
Part 9A: Martín grinned, laughing in a way that was... just happy, really, not like he was laughing at Luciano at all. Luciano couldn't seem to get his breath. It was too much - Martín was too beautiful, happy and laughing like that, and he was happy because he was here with Luciano, and all the sensations - his naked skin was pressed against Martín's for almost their whole bodies, and it was so warm, and - and real, and it was - all too much. He just - he couldn't seem to - he dropped his head to rest against Martín's chest, and he could hear the rhythm of his heart and for a second that was all he could do. Lie there and listen to Martín's heart pounding and try to remember how to breathe.
"Luciano?" Martín said after a moment. His hand landed on Luciano's hair, then stroked through it, his fingers tangling with the strands. He did that a lot, Luciano thought. Even though his hair was always tangled, he didn't seem to mind. He brushed Luciano's hair off his forehead, behind his ear, almost combing his fingers through it.
Martín shifted under him and then his lips pressed against Luciano's hair, then downward, against his forehead. Luciano sighed, blew his breath out, then pushed himself up onto his forearms again.
Martín smiled up at him, and Luciano found himself smiling back, even though his breath wanted to stop in his throat again at the sight of it. He really was beautiful. He shifted onto one arm, skimmed the other down over Martín's side, over his hip, down the outside of his thigh, then shifted back onto his knees so he could do the same with his other hand down his other side. Martín flushed, sighing, and Luciano leaned down to press a kiss to his shoulder, down over his chest, running his hand up over his knee to the inside of his thigh. Martín sighed again, and his hand ran through Luciano's hair to curl around the back of his neck. His palm felt damp, sweaty - Luciano wondered if it were desire or nerves. Or maybe - probably? - both. "So," he said, trailing his mouth down over Martín's ribs, down over stomach. He glanced around at his bed - wide enough for two people to lie next to each other, but it would be awkward to lie at an angle. "How about you sit here at the edge of the bed?" he asked.
"Hmm?" Martín's eyes opened, and he blinked up at him.
Luciano grinned. "Well," he said, "I said I'd suck you off, didn't I? It'll be easier if you're at the edge of the bed."
"Ah - yes. Listen..." he licked his lips, still nervous, but then changed his mind, "Right, then. If you-"
"I want to," Luciano said. Then he added, just in case, "Of course, it's fine if you don't, just let me know. But if you're worried about me, I -"
"No, I just thought I should -"
They both stopped. Then Luciano laughed, and it made Martín smile too, reassured. He sat up, and Luciano kissed him again, because it felt so right and natural to do it, and then for a fraction of a second they were so.... so together, both of them naked there and kissing and laughing and Martín's eyes were so alight with happiness and want that he was sure he would like the answer and then the words just came and he let them out, before he could change his mind:
"Just promise you won't despise me later, all right?"
Martín's eyes flashed, and his voice sound almost insulted:
"Don't be stupid, I would never despise you! I'm just - I should - wash first. So you -"
Luciano didn't laugh. He had to bite the inside of his mouth, but he managed it, somehow, because Martín would think he was making fun of him and he would never understand that he was just happier than he had ever been, and - maybe a little amused too because he was embarrassed and it was so unexpected and more endearing than it had any right to be, so he kissed him again, and shook his head and slid down to the floor.
Martín sat up. He grabbed the pillow, and for a second Luciano thought he would hug it, but then Martín gave it to him.
"Thank you," Luciano said, touched. He placed it under his knees, "Now... so... you have done this before, right? I mean, had it done to you?"
"Yes, but it doesn't count," Martín said. He wasn't looking at his eyes, and he was still red all over and Luciano wanted to say he was doing great, but that would sound condescending and he knew Martín wouldn't appreciate it. So he just waited until Martín was sitting in front of him, and he didn't laugh again, even if Martín had his legs closed and was taking deep breaths now and come on.
"Why not?" He rested his hand over Martín's knees. "What are you thinking?"
"Something stupid."
"Tell me."
"I don't want to."
Luciano shook his head again, and then kissed his knee. He made him spread his legs, his palm against Martín's thighs, and then Martín leaned forward and hugged him, pulling Luciano's head to his chest, and it was so sudden that it made him slip out of the pillow, and then Martín hid his face on his hair and - what-
"I was thinking, if you must know, that it's because it wasn't with you." He kissed his hair again, and Luciano hugged his waist and kissed his belly, because it was the most available part and because he wanted Martín to... remember this, that Luciano could kiss his whole body if he wanted to, all of it, and open his mouth and taste his skin and mark it, because he was his, he had just said it, but- later. He could tell him later. They would have time.
He took the pillow, and placed it under his knees again. Now Martín had his legs spread open for him, so Luciano started to caress him slowly, first with his hands, massaging his inner thighs, and the skin there was soft, and - he had touched him there before, and he wondered if Martín remembered. Once when he undressed him, and then rubbed that wet cloth over his body, and before that too, when he searched him for weapons and to humiliate him. Maybe this would make up for it, because he was kneeling here and trying to please him and all and he could see Martín holding his breath, and closing his eyes, and that made him smile. He kissed his thigh just because he could, and to prove the same point, because Martín would have to - to go back, eventually, because he had his life in Buenos Aires and even if he came here often he would have to be away, too, and he didn't want to think about it now, but when it happened, he wanted Martín to remember it. Wanted him to think about it and remember his mouth - since he liked it so much and all - all over his body.
Martín was fully aroused now, so - that meant he enjoyed having his thighs caressed like that and Luciano thought it was only fair because his legs were really great, and he was tensing up, too, as if struggling to stay still. He touched him, then, first very lightly, brushing his fingers on his erection, and that made Martín gasp. He hadn't touched him there before. He had wanted to, but hadn't, first to prove a point, when he searched him, to show he could get Martín aroused without even working at it, and that felt so petty now, so he tried to forget it. And later because... he hadn't. He had touched his legs and his chest and had kissed his mouth but hadn't touched him there.
He teased him for a while, soft touches while he kissed and licked his inner thighs and touched his member, feeling the soft hair against his fingers and his cheek - blond, too, and a little darker, and Luciano had seen it before, of course, he had seen everything, as Martín had said it, but it always surprised him, how... golden he was, all of him.
He knew how to do this. How to touch and move his fingers and his hand and he had done it before, of course, but it felt different, it was stupid but it did, just like kissing him felt different than kissing anyone else and every person was unique but it was different than that too, it was... something else, being here, doing this to him, and listening to his gasps and how he was trying, and failing to be silent. How he could feel the strained muscles of his legs. He almost told him to relax, to move around if he wanted to, and maybe he should have let him lie down. Or not. Maybe this was perfect just the way it was.
So set his own pace, licking, making it as wet as possible and letting his lips brush over his member and listening for his gasps and light moans and he let his hands explore his legs too, since he wasn't using them anyway, and he liked his legs and this was fun, everything, his taste and smell and the little sounds he made and his hand trembling on his hair and now he was holding the strands between his fingers and still not pulling, Luciano had to give him credit for that. He was touching the back of his neck now, so Luciano thought he would - maybe - like to... push his face in, or something like that, if he could, and the idea was arousing, made his blood boil too, and it was so crazy that the idea of giving him pleasure could be so powerful.
Well. So much for straightforward.
He looked up, to Martín's bright flushed face, and smiled, and kissed the tip of his member. That made Martín whimper and close his eyes tight and bite his lip. Luciano opened his mouth and started to take him in, carefully, covering his teeth with his lips so he wouldn't accidentally hurt him or anything, and Martín's hand tightened on his hair, and he was grabbing the bed sheets and twisting it between his fingers too, and sort of arching his back and - pushing it deeper inside Luciano's mouth, so he held his hips. He would let him thrust all he wanted later, but now he held him still, and Martín's skin felt warm, and damp with sweat, and Luciano paused for a moment to get used to his size, and to let him feel it, the warmth and the pressure from his lips and everything, and then he started it again, sucking and licking the underside of his member and now Martín was moaning, and pulling at his hair, but Luciano could take it.
He kept his hands on his hips, pulling him closer to the edge of the bed so he could take it all in, and Martín was so - noisy and silent at the same time, he was panting and gasping and moaning and whimpering and biting his lips to keep from screaming, which was probably good, or people could hear, but he wanted to listen to it, to see what kind of sounds he would make if he could let go, and he almost stopped to tell him, to say he could just do whatever he wanted to because Luciano wanted to know everything, but he didn't, Martín would think he was complaining and it was the total opposite of that. And that, the sounds, the heat, the touch, the taste, the simple undeniable fact that he was here and enjoying it, was making Luciano dizzy with just how much he wanted him, and that idea, the feeling, was growing until there was nothing else he could think about, and he could tell Martín was getting closer, so he let go of his hip and pushed his hand between his own thighs, because now it felt like all the blood he had was pooling there and going to his head at the same time, somehow, if that was even possible, and he needed to -
"W-wait," Martín said, and it sounded breathy and raspy and forced and he held Luciano's shoulder, then his arm, like he couldn't control his own moves, "Wait, don't - we - wait -"
Even his breath sounded trembling. He held his arm tight, and then his chin, and Luciano let him guide him, confused, until he was out of his mouth and then he said, Martín's hand still on his chin:
"I'm sorry, I thought you were enjoying it," and Martín touched his lips with a trembling hand, sort of almost pushing his fingers inside his mouth, and Luciano wasn't completely sure he had planned that but hey, why not, so he licked his fingers too. That made Martín whimper again.
"I was, I am, very - I - we should - you, I want you to - I want to do something too, to you, you can't-"
"But -"
"I want it," Martín said, and it sounded almost like an order, shaky and panting like it was, and then the words made sense, what he was saying, and Luciano felt the warmth flowing into him, sweeter than he thought it could be possible.
He sat on the floor, and it was good, his knees were starting to bother him, pillow and all, except he wasn't even thinking about it until now and held Martín's hips again and pulled him closer, and then Martín fell off the bed or maybe he got out on his own, but he fell on his lap, over his legs, and then he threw his arms around Luciano's shoulders and kissed his mouth. Just like that, his tongue inside his mouth and he wasn't thinking right, of course, but he was kissing his mouth and all those sounds, the way he moaned into the kiss and so he wasn't - thinking anything bad about it, for real, he didn't want to pull away, he was kissing his lips and sucking and almost biting and Luciano thought they should breathe and he had warned him it would be hard but that wasn't exactly what he had in mind and he couldn't worry about it now.
Not when Martín was kissing him like that. It felt so right. Luciano had to raise his head to kiss him, had to look up, Martín was taller and heavy and wrong and so precious and beautiful and Luciano wanted him and now that felt right too, to let the feeling take over and erase everything else, the fear and hurt and regret and the resentment, all of it, and just let himself want, and hold him, and feel the way his erection pressed against his and how his mouth covered his lips and his hands on his back and his hair and -
"You can - take me. I want that," Martín said. His eyes were so green, dazzled and half-shut. Luciano could see the marks on his lips were he had been biting and the cut from yesterday at that café.
"We don't have to," he whispered, and then Martín frowned, so he rushed to say, "I'm fine, I really am, I'm - loving this, believe me. We can wait."
"I want it," Martín said. He hid his face in Luciano's neck, and then started to kiss it, and Luciano had to force himself to remember why he was saying anything, instead of just doing it, and ah right, yes, Martín had no idea what he was asking. Right.
"We don't need to go all the way now, we can take it slowly, and then you can -"
"You don't want me?"
What.
"Of course I do, that's - that's obvious! I'm just -"
"Then do it," Martín said, "I want you."
It sounded so unbearably sweet. Like he had no idea which words he should say to explain it, and was just doing it anyway, and Luciano wasn't sure he hadn't maybe forced him, he would have to find a way to say these things without... challenging him, he would have to consider that, next time, too, because Martín was an idiot like that, and then Martín got his silence wrong, so he kept talking:
"Two years, I had two years to think about it, and I know what I want! So if you want me -"
"I do, I just - this can..."
Hurt a little? Feel a little strange? Come on, Martín had been surprised when he touched his nipples. Now if he would just let Luciano focus enough to remember it, it would be great, really, why did he have to be so... so like this.
"-be a little too much," he said, lamely, and it was all wrong but he couldn't think of anything better, and he would explain it, if Martín stopped kissing his neck so he could get his brain to work.
"You keep doing this," Martín said. Now he was kissing his earlobe, "You think - I'm not - you think I don't know what I'm saying, I waited too long for this and I want it and you know I never do anything I don't want to, you know that, so - stop teasing me!"
"I'm not! I just don't want to, to scare you out of having sex ever again, you can't blame me for that!"
Were they really arguing now? He couldn't believe it. Martín raised his head and glared at him, as much as he could with his face still burning and his lips swollen from the kisses and from his own bites, the idiot:
"With you? How could I," he said, and it did sound like a challenge, "What happened to unforgettable?"
And then he kissed his mouth again, and all Luciano could think was I'll never live this down will I and then he knew he had lost. So he just kissed Martín back, as firmly as he could, and curled his arms around his back to hold him close, his body warm and eager next to his.
"Well, fine," he said. "If that's what you want, then we'll do that." Martín grinned, and he could see the triumph there in his face, the satisfaction, but again it was so strangely, unexpectedly sweet, somehow, because he looked happy, really happy, and not just because he'd gotten what he wanted, or anything, just... because.
Luciano took a deep breath and ran his hand up the curve of Martín's back. Because he could. "Okay," he said. "So. We'll need to do this on the bed, so..." he started to stand, pulling Martín with him. Martín obliged him, getting to his feet, then bent to pick up the pillow and toss it back onto the bed. Luciano smiled at him, kissed him again. "Hold on just a second," he said. "I have to get something. You can lie down or... whatever you want to do." He smiled again, trying to be reassuring, and then moved to go through the chest of drawers in the corner of his room, trying to find the oil he kept in there, though he hadn't used it for anything in what felt like forever. When he finally found it and turned around again, he saw Martín still standing in the middle of the room, watching him with a hard to read expression on his face. "What is it?" he asked, feeling suddenly a little self-conscious all over again.
"Mm, nothing," Martín said quickly, but his face flushed, so Luciano figured he was just feeling nervous again. "Is that for what I think it is?"
Luciano wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that question. What did Martín think it was, anyway? And how was he supposed to know? "It'll make things easier, that's all," he said.
"Mmm," Martín said. He bit his lip and looked down. Again. Luciano tried not to sigh - he crossed the room back to him and kissed him until he was sure he'd stopped biting his lip, then kissed him again, just because, sliding his free hand back into his hair. He tried hard to keep from smiling.
"It'll be all right," he said. "Really."
"I know that," Martín said, his voice huffy.
"All right. How about you lie down on the bed, then?"
Martín opened his mouth as if to say something, then bit his lip - again - and nodded. He sat down on the bed, and Luciano wondered if he should ask him what position he'd rather be in, or not - he was already so tense, bringing that up again might only make it worse, but... should he tell him to lie on his back? His stomach? Stomach would be easier, it was the easiest position for a first time, but then he wouldn't be able to see his face, and - well, Luciano wanted to see his face, this time, that was all, but he didn't want to make things uncomfortable for him, if- Martín looked up at him, and there was a nakedly uncertain look on his face that Luciano hadn't seen there before.
His face was still flushed, and there was a mix of desire and nervousness in his eyes. He looked almost impatient. Well, Luciano supposed he was taking - sort of a long time, and - "Come on," Martín said, but it was in a low voice, little more than a whisper.
"All right," Luciano said. He took a deep breath and then leaned forward to kiss Martín, again - he didn't think he'd ever get tired of doing that, not ever - and Martín's hand came up to the back of his neck, fumbling and then gripping tightly. His palm was still very damp. Luciano opened his mouth, pressed closer, into the kiss, and Martín let him push him backward, letting his other arm fall back to brace him against the bed. His eyes slid closed as Luciano slipped his tongue over his lower lip, into his mouth, and his hand tightened against Luciano's neck.
Luciano kissed him for a long moment, feeling the change as Martín tilted his head into the kiss, opened his own mouth eagerly in response, his body shifting against Luciano's as he let him press him down into the bed. Luciano could feel Martín's erection against his own hip, hard and heavy, and that was good, that meant he was still enjoying this, he wasn't too nervous, at least not yet, so - that was good. It was getting more and more difficult for him to concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing, rather than just the feeling of kissing Martín, of lying against him, the smooth solid heat of his skin, the warmth of his body, his own desire fracturing his thoughts until all he wanted to do was rub his own arousal against Martín, feeling pressure and friction and the warmth of his skin until - until - but no, Martín wanted him to - inside him, he'd said, so... so yes. That was what Luciano was going to do.
He pulled away from the kiss finally, gasping, and let his lips drift over the side of Martín's mouth and his cheek, press there, against his cheekbone, the edge of his jaw. "I - I'm clean, you know," he said, feeling his cheeks burn, but it was an important thing to say. "I mean, I don't have any diseases, or anything. I've always been careful. I know that's - but I didn't - don't - want you to worry."
Martín didn't even stop to think. "I wasn't worried."
"Then now you won't have to be," Luciano said. He kissed Martín's cheek again, and smiled at the way Martín's lips shifted, a soft, tiny little smile, at the gesture. He kissed Martín's jaw, the place where it softened just beneath his ear, and laughed when Martín twitched, squirming slightly beneath him. "Does that tickle?" he breathed.
Martín gave a huffing breath through his nose. "No," he said. "Stop doing that."
Luciano grinned and pressed a light kiss there before letting his tongue flicker against the skin. Martín made a small, strangled sort of sound, and his neck flushed furiously. Luciano kissed him there again, with his mouth open this time, and smiled as Martín squirmed again under him. "I can see that," he murmured, turning to rest his lips against his jaw.
"Stop - teasing me," Martín gasped. He turned his head enough to press his lips against Luciano's, though the angle was clumsy. Luciano shifted, pushing himself up on one arm to kiss him more thoroughly, so that he wouldn't have to twist his neck at an angle to do it. Martín sighed and his hand came up to sink into Luciano's hair, gripping the back of his head.
Luciano pulled away from the kiss just long enough to whisper against Martín's skin, "All right, then, are you ready?"
"Are you kidding?" Martín bit out, and his voice was hoarse, rasping. "I'm more than ready, if you don't get on with it I'll-"
"Okay, okay," he kissed Martín again, quickly, running his hand down his side, over his hip, to slide under his thigh and lift it, pressing Martín's knee toward his chest, bending to kiss Martín again as he settled himself between his legs. Martín sighed against his mouth and let himself be pushed flat against the bed, his hand clenching in Luciano's hair.
Luciano struggled not to get distracted by - everything, everything from the heat of Martín's mouth and the softness of his lips to the way his hand gripped his hair, the way he smelled, desire and sweat and Martín's cologne and just Martín, the feeling of his body beneath him on the bed, the open vulnerability in the position Martín had willingly let Luciano push him into, on his back in the bed, with his knee curled up against his chest and his foot in the air. Luciano fumbled with the bottle of oil, then realized he'd need both his hands, so he nudged Martín's foot over to rest against his shoulder, letting himself pull away from the kiss.
He'd expected the position to be a little awkward, a little bit of a stretch, but Martín's leg went easily, and Luciano blinked, realizing that he was a lot more flexible than he'd realized. That... well, it filled his head with all kinds of images and ideas, but that - that would have to wait, and they'd have time. He just had to remember that. They'd have time, all the time they wanted. He distracted himself from the surge of confused, jumbled emotions by opening the bottle and slicking his fingers with the oil.
He reached down between their bodies to take hold of Martín's erection with his slippery hand, stroking up and down once, twice, until Martín moaned and his hand was clenching tight against the back of Luciano's head, the other twisting fitfully in the blankets. Only then did Luciano slide his hand down to brush his fingers over the sensitive skin to the small opening between Martín's buttocks. His skin felt warm there, almost feverishly warm, though not the searing heat of his erection. He swirled his first finger around it and Martín gasped, panting, against his neck. Luciano turned his head just enough to kiss his hair, the top of his ear, and then pressed the finger into him.
Martín made a small noise, and his hand clenched into a fist over the blankets, his lips compressing tightly. Luciano knew it felt strange at first, but he wasn't sure if he should try to reassure him or just continue on with what he was doing. He settled on sliding his other arm around Martín's shoulders as he worked his finger further inside him. His shoulders were trembling, the muscles taut with tension. "You need to relax, Martín," he said, softly, into his ear, and was that his own voice? It sounded hoarse, thick and breathy.
"How am I supposed to -" Martín started, his voice drawn tight, brittle, with that same tension, so Luciano kissed him, teasing his tongue with his own until it responded, until Martín tilted his head back against Luciano's arm over his shoulders and his muscles relaxed. It was... quite a kiss, Luciano could say that for it, and he let it go on for a long few moments before he pressed his finger further into Martín's body, circling it in small, slow movements until Martín gave a sharp gasp against his mouth and trembled so that Luciano could feel the tremors throughout his whole body.
"There," he whispered against Martín's lips, which were damp, swollen, wet from kissing. "Was that good?"
"What was that?" Martín whispered. His eyes were very wide, his pupils dilated.
Luciano shrugged. He didn't really know the details, which was what he assumed Martín had meant. He just knew that it felt amazing, and that was what really mattered when it came to this kind of thing. "Something that makes this feel really good," he said, and circled his finger again, brushing over that spot. Martín made a small noise that was half gasp, half yelp, and his body jerked. "It's good, right?" he asked, prompted, pressing another kiss to Martín's cheek.
Martín sucked in his breath, holding it for a moment as if he couldn't quite admit it, then nodded tightly. Luciano wanted to say something to reassure him, something crazy that would probably just annoy Martín anyway, so he stroked his shoulder with his hand, the side of his neck, before sliding another finger into him.
Martín bit his lip, and his eyelashes fluttered down over his eyes - he felt so tight around Luciano's fingers that he was worried he'd hurt him as he spread them apart, trying to stretch him out, to spread the slickness of the oil within him as thoroughly as possible. He took his time - as much as he'd have loved to hurry, his own desire a throbbing ache in his groin, pounding in his pulse and in the back of his head, turning his mouth dry. He was going to be slow and careful if it killed him. He kissed Martín again, trying to draw his attention away from the fingers working inside him until he relaxed again and he was shuddering with every brush of Luciano's fingers to that spot.
Martín pulled away from the kiss, gasping for air. He moaned as Luciano's finger skimmed over that spot again, his shoulders twitching slightly against the bed. "You can..." he said, his voice sounding heavy and just as thick as Luciano's had, "you can go ahead."
"You're still really tight," Luciano told him, spreading his fingers again. Martín groaned, and tossed his head against the sheets. "I don't want to hurt you."
"I can take it," Martín said. "I - I'll be tight no matter what, right?"
Luciano had to admit that it was probably true. Martín was nervous, tense; he'd never done this before, and, if he felt anything like Luciano did at that moment, his every sense was working twice as hard as normal, his body shuddering with adrenaline and desire and emotion all at once, his nerves tangled and dancing with it. "I'm afraid," he started, and had to swallow as his voice failed, thickened and broke, "I'm afraid I - won't be able to go slowly." He pulled his fingers out of Martín, slicked them with more oil, and coaxed them back into his body. "I'm not going to let it hurt for you," he murmured. Martín groaned again as he pressed his fingers against that spot inside him, rubbed them in a circle there until he was moaning for breath and arching his back against the bed, his leg flexing against Luciano's shoulder.
"Th-th-that," Martín gasped after a moment, obviously struggling to catch his breath, "that doesn't h-hurt, Luciano."
Luciano spread his fingers apart, stretching Martín as widely as he could. "Does this?" he asked.
Martín hesitated, biting his lip. "No," he mumbled after a moment. "It just feels strange."
"Mm," Luciano agreed. He pulled his fingers away to slick them again, applying new oil around the opening before he slid them inside it again, smiling a bit when Martín gasped, his leg flexing against his shoulder. He usually didn't take anything like this much time and energy just to prepare someone, though he was always careful, but this - this was different. "Just humor me, all right?" he said, kissing Martín's shoulder. In this position Martín's leg was practically pressed flat against his chest, and yet he still didn't seem uncomfortable. "You're pretty flexible," Luciano managed to gasp.
Martín smiled. "Am I?" he whispered.
Luciano nodded. "Can you get your ankle behind your head?" he asked, grinning against Martín's skin.
Martín gasped as Luciano shifted his fingers inside him again. "N-not and have sex at the same time," he said unevenly.
Luciano laughed. "No," he agreed. "I wouldn't try that." He kissed the side of Martín's neck, laving his tongue against the skin. "But can you?" he breathed into Martín's ear.
"I-I've never tried," Martín said breathlessly. "A-are we going to do this anytime soon?"
"You're so impatient," Luciano said, shifting over Martín to press another kiss to his lips. He added a third finger, and this time Martín didn't wince, or clench his body defensively around his fingers in response.
"You're damn right I am," Martín said breathily. His fingers tugged at Luciano's hair. "I- I've waited two years for this, you know, and - and all I want is you inside me, Luciano, please, I-" he bit his lip again, chewed on it until Luciano kissed him, pulling his lips into a kiss. His own groin throbbed eagerly, reminding him of how much, how desperately, he wanted just that. When he thought about it - he couldn't believe this, he really couldn't. He would have been more than content, would have been thrilled, to suck Martín off and use his own hand for himself. This was too much, thinking about it made him start to shake, made him want to hold onto Martín and never let go.
Martín bit lightly at his lower lip, making Luciano gasp, then slid his hand from the bed up over his back, the light touch making Luciano shiver, before he slid that hand in between them to close around Luciano's erection. Luciano made a breathless sound he couldn't even categorize and barely caught himself before he fell onto Martín's chest. His fingers jerked inside of Martín and he gasped, his body shuddering at the unintended movement so that his hand tightened around Luciano until Luciano could barely breathe. "Luciano," he practically growled, and slid his hand up Luciano's member, down to the base, and up again, until Luciano was seeing dancing white stars instead of Martín's face, could feel himself gasping heavily, his chest heaving as if he'd been running for miles, and he could hear his own voice moaning out loud, and he thought it was strange, how could he have enough blood to rush to his face and make his cheeks so hot if all of it was rushing to the touch of Martín's hand fast enough to leave him lightheaded.
"You're so... demanding," Luciano managed to gasp. He braced himself on one arm and pulled his fingers out of Martín, who shuddered as they were withdrawn but grinned up at him all the same.
"You love me anyway," he whispered, and Luciano shook his head and let himself lean down until their foreheads pressed tightly together. He closed his eyes.
"Yes," he said. His throat suddenly felt thick. "I do. I really do." He only realized there were tears pooling under his tightly shut lashes when he felt Martín kissing them away. His tongue slipped over the edge of Luciano's eyelid, curved just under his eyelashes, making Luciano's skin spark and tingle wherever it touched, wherever he licked the tears away.
"I know," Martín said softly. His hand stroked gently through Luciano's hair. "I know. I love you, too. I love you... I really love you."
How did he know? How did he know what Luciano needed him to say? Or did he not know, because it was Martín, after all, and he was just saying it anyway, and - and Luciano couldn't be doing this; he was supposed to be making love to... to his new lover, not having an emotional breakdown. Luciano took a deep breath, trying to ignore how it hitched, wavering, in his throat, and blinked furiously until he felt like he could open his eyes without betraying the tears in them.
"I-I'm sorry," he said, trying to smile. "I'm supposed to be doing something else right now." He skimmed his fingers down over Martín's lips, trying to ignore how badly they trembled, "but I do love you." He took another breath and busied himself with pouring more oil into his hand and rubbing it down over his own member, scooting back, even though it made the sensitive flesh explode into dizzying sensation, so soon after Martín's hand had squeezed him there, just making it even more sensitive, and he... really needed not to be thinking about that right now. Christ. He let go when he could feel himself dripping with it and closed the bottle, leaning over to drop it off over the edge of the bed.
Martín had let go, and was staring up at him, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. Luciano wasn't certain if the expression on his face was desire, or nerves, or what, or if Martín couldn't decide himself, but as he turned back to him he reached up and laid a hand on Luciano's hip. "Don't apologize," he said, then bit his lip, looked away, and patted Luciano's hip awkwardly. "Really, Luciano," he said. "Don't... don't apologize."
"I'll do my best," Luciano said, and he tried to smile. He could feel it going crooked on his face, so he leaned forward and kissed Martín lightly. "Okay," he said, and reached down to lift up Martín's other leg, spreading it wide, pushing it up toward his chest. God, he really was flexible. He took himself in his other hand and settled himself at what looked like the best angle before pushing forward into Martín.
Martín gasped, and his hand dug into Luciano's skin, coming up to grip wildly at his back. He moaned, and Luciano wasn't entirely sure if it was a moan of pleasure, or simply of overwhelmed sensation, or pain, or what. He clenched one hand into a fist, struggling to stay still, but that was easier than he'd have expected, concentrating on Martín's face, brilliantly flushed, his eyes squeezing shut, then fluttering open again like he couldn't decide which was better, biting his lip again, of course. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when Martín twitched his hips up toward him, dragging Luciano toward him with the hand on his back. "Move," he gritted out.
"I don't want to -" Luciano managed to gasp.
"I don't care," Martín spat. "Move, Luciano."
Luciano gave him a careful look, but it was one thing holding himself still under his own power, it was something entirely different to hold still while Martín was shifting back and forth around him as if trying to draw him further into him and ordering him to move. His eyes were burning, demanding green fire, and finally Luciano sighed and let himself buck forward like he wanted to, thrust into Martín until he hissed and squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back in a way that bared the arch of his throat. "You really are pretty demanding," Luciano managed to gasp as he dragged himself to a stop again. "What if I want a diff -different pace, huh?"
"Too bad," Martín whispered, and his voice cracked and broke until it was nearly a whimper. "O-oh, Dios mío." He brought his hand up and shoved it into his mouth.
Luciano grabbed it and tugged it away, squeezing it gently and trying to rub away the marks of Martín's teeth with his fingers. "What is it, love?" he asked, barely hearing the endearment as he struggled to stay still half-buried in Martín's tightness and heat rather than continuing to thrust into him, torn between desire and sudden, biting worry. "Talk to me, all right?"
Martín shook his head, stubbornly. His eyes were still squeezed shut.
"Is it too much?" Luciano asked. He realized belatedly that he was massaging Martín's hand, rubbing gently circles on it with his thumb, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to stop. "It was too much, right?"
"N-no," Martín said breathlessly. His body shuddered, and he tossed his head against the bed again, even though Luciano wasn't moving, his thighs trembling with the effort to remain still. "It's just - full. Really... ah. Full." He gasped, and Luciano could see sweat spring up along his hairline. "How will the rest of you fit, anyway?" Martín mumbled.
Luciano told himself firmly not to laugh, or even smile, and the effort that took distracted him from how badly he wanted to thrust into Martín, at least. "Your muscles will relax in a second," he said, reaching up with his free hand to rub it soothingly along the trembling muscles in Martín's thigh, even though his fingers were still slippery with oil. "It'll be easier then."
Martín nodded, his breath still coming in hoarse, heavy gasps like he was winded.
"You know," he said, still patting Martín's leg soothingly, moving his other hand up to stroke the inside of his wrist with his thumb, "we could turn you over, onto your stomach, it might make it easier -"
"No!" Martín said. His eyes flew open. Luciano blinked at him, surprised, and Martín flushed. "I want to - to look at you," Martín whispered after a moment. He looked away, his throat working, and his flush deepened.
Luciano squeezed his hand before he quite knew what he was doing. "Good," he said. "G-good, I'm glad."
Martín turned back to blink up at him. "Good?" he repeated. "You are?"
"I want to look at you, too," Luciano explained. His throat felt suddenly thick again, and he looked down, away, embarrassed. He distracted Martín by easing forward into him, just a bit, feeling his muscles unclenching, easing to allow the intrusion. "All right?" he whispered.
"Mmm," Martín said, his voice sounding tight. He jumped when Luciano slid his still oil-slick fingers up over his chest to tease one nipple, brushing it with his thumb, then leaned down to swipe his tongue over the other one before kissing it, open-mouthed, teasing it with his mouth. He shifted against the bed, one hand clenching and unclenching in the sheets, gasping breathlessly as Luciano finally pulled away, only to balance himself steady with one hand on Martín's thigh and push a bit further into him until he was fully sheathed inside him. Martín made a whining sound and bit his lip, pressing his lips closely together, but Luciano reached out to push his hair off his forehead, rubbing his cheek gently.
"Hurt?" he managed to gasp out, breathless.
Martín shook his head and pressed his face into Luciano's hand as if he didn't know what to say. His face was twisted up, his lips trembling. "I've never..." he started, but his voice broke, and he took a deep breath before he started again. "Never felt so-" He squeezed his eyes shut. "It's just- I- I've never had sex with you before," he managed after a long moment of breathing heavily. "It's - I can't-"
Luciano felt his cheeks flush and his throat tighten at that, and he didn't know what to tell Martín, not when he was having the same problem. And this was the first time Martín had ever felt this particular sensation, either, which had to add to all of it, and- no wonder he was a little overwhelmed, that was all. "It'll be all right," he whispered.
Martín nodded, after a moment. "Yes," he managed. Luciano shifted Martín's leg, letting it slip off his shoulder. Martín curled it around his back as he leaned forward to brace himself on his forearms on either side of Martín's head, stroking Martín's hair back from his face with his hands, letting his fingers play with the mussed golden strands. He kissed Martín's cheekbone, then the other one, the bridge of his nose, before he finally kissed him on the mouth again. The kiss was slow, and deep, the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, and by the time Luciano pulled away, he was gasping unevenly himself. He pushed himself back and up until he had a good angle, and then pulled out of Martín just enough to thrust back into him.
Martín gasped, one hand tightening on the sheets again, but he didn't seem truly uncomfortable, so Luciano let himself do it again, pulling further out this time. This time Martín gave a low, small groan, his thighs trembling, and his hand came up to bite into Luciano's back again, curving close around his side, the nails digging into his skin. Luciano barely noticed; he couldn't seem to think about much of anything but the heat of Martín's body, the tightness surrounding him, the sensation that went spiraling through him whenever he so much as shifted, exploding behind his eyes, and he had to control himself, or at least keep the pace slow at first, had to make it good for Martín, too. He thrust again, and Martín's nails were really leaving scratches against his side now, he thought, but it was hard to care. He shifted his position, slightly, just enough to change his angle just a bit, and pushed in again.
This time Martín gave a low cry, and his hand clenched on Luciano's back as he pressed his head back against the pillow. "Good?" Luciano managed to ask, and when Martín nodded, still breathing in uneven gasps, that was all the encouragement he needed. He let himself speed up, and now Martín was making the same sounds he had, earlier, panting and gasping and whimpering, and still biting his lip to keep back any louder sounds, and he almost wanted to tell him to stop worrying about it, to make any sounds he wanted to, but if Martín started screaming he didn't know how he'd explain it if anyone overheard.
He let himself settle into a rhythm, faster than he had been but not nearly as fast as his desire-scrambled nerves were screaming at him to move. He felt hot all over, and the heat only grew every time Martín groaned or cried out or tossed his head or... He could feel the back of his neck prickling, burning with heat; his hands felt very hot, even tangled in the bedsheets where he'd braced them to steady himself. He couldn't seem to look away from Martín, his face, his eyes, the expression there, breathless and overcome, and... Martín moaned, his hand sliding up Luciano's back to grip tightly at the back of his neck again. He was flushed all over, his mouth open, his erection desperately hard - he was close, Luciano thought dazedly, and with an effort stilled his movements until he was still, and panting with the exertion of simply making himself stop. He wasn't even sure why he'd done it, just that suddenly he didn't want this to be over yet, wanted all of it to... to last a little longer. He didn't want to have to let go of Martín, not yet.
He wasn't ready for this to be over.
Not just yet.
Martín whimpered, groaned, and then his eyes flickered open, staring dazedly up at Luciano. "What the -" he bit his lip again, let out a heavy breath, and cursed. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded. His hand tightened on Luciano's neck, and he shook him. "Don't - don't stop. Not now."
"I'm sorry," Luciano whispered. "Really. I just... want it to go on a little longer, all right?" He let himself lean forward, onto Martín, propping himself with one elbow, and reached out to touch his face. "I know I'm teasing you," he said.
Martín's eyes softened slightly. "Yes," he said, "you are." He leaned up and kissed Luciano's shoulder before he buried his face there. "But I guess I forgive you," he said. "And don't apologize." He sighed, heavily. "But you do realize this is the second time... I've been close today without -"
Luciano grinned slightly at the petulant tone in his voice. "I know," he said. "Really, I do. But it'll be memorable, I promise -"
"Memorable?" Martín huffed. "I'll probably expire on the spot after all this."
Luciano laughed, feeling his breath tickling the curve of Martín's ear. "No, you won't," he said. "I'll be careful. Not to kill you, I mean."
"You'd better be," Martín mumbled.
"I will," Luciano said. He stroked his hand over the back of Martín's head. He thought that it was true, he'd always be careful with Martín, and then he was curling his arm around his shoulders, hugging him tight to his chest, before he thought.
"Wha - what the hell?" Martín muttered against his shoulder.
"Nothing," Luciano managed. He pressed a kiss to Martín's forehead, "I won't stop again, all right?" he said. "This time I promise."
"Good," Martín said. "Because I love you, Luciano, but I will kill you if you do that again."
Tbc...