Work Text
It starts off different every time. A tingling at the pit of his stomach. Bolts of electricity coursing through his veins. Pain deep within his muscles. A tiredness so potent it renders everything that isn’t sleep unimportant. A chill he can feel from the marrow of his bones. Cravings that keep him up at night in search for vanilla ice cream. Or sour straps. Or ten shots of tequila. You can’t really predict these things, really. It changes as quickly as the Board do their rules and regulations. If there was one thing you can count on, is that you will somehow always know. It is this sense of unease that nag at you from the back of your mind. A dread gradually clouding your mind as you realize you’re losing control of your body. An inexplicable need for intimacy and closeness and affection. For head pats and forehead kisses and warm caresses. Heated touches and strong arms and low baritones.In a word, it is fucking annoying. Oh wait, that’s two words.This time, it started with a jolt in his core. Something sweet and soft and sickeningly sentimental curling itself around his ribs as soon as he set foot in his apartment after a long day of grueling training. He sighed, glaring at the calendar sitting innocently on his table as though it has personally offended him. It refused to co-operate, spiting the uncomfortable facts he’d already known back into his scowling face.Yup. That’s right. Better pack up your things. Cancel your plans and make one very humiliating phone call, little Johnny boy. Your heat is coming.He groaned and got into the shower, delaying the inevitable. He knew he would have to do it eventually, as much as he wished he wouldn’t. But he held out. For as long as he possibly could. God forbid he did it a second sooner than was absolutely necessary. He wanted to give himself the chance to file such behavior under those committed under the influence, for which he couldn’t and shouldn’t be held accountable. Because if he caved and do that now, it would seem like he had wanted to do it. Had recalled the details of it on more than one occasion. Or had given serious thought to what it meant.He hadn’t, okay? Lust-induced fantasies, late-night scenarios and drunk musings don’t count.He wiped the fogged-up mirror with the palm of his hand. He stared hard into the clear baby blue of his eyes, mentally going through all the people he’d have to call in the morning, kept getting distracted by the person he 100% wouldn’t.He threw the blanket on top of his head with a groan.He hated this time of the year.//////////He lasted a commendable two days, running errands and filling paperwork for his upcoming absence. He stocked up, absentmindedly throwing rock candies into his basket even though he hated them. He did more laundry than he would usually do in a month, obsessing with filling the apartment with a fresh minty scent that reminded him of a certain asshole. Scrubbed every square inch of his apartment until the tiles sparkled, trying to save face in front of his neat-freak, obnoxious, (invited) uninvited guest. Locked away everything that might betray the inner workings of his mind, intent on not giving the asshole with the sharp teeth more leverage than he'd already had.He wondered why he bothered making this phone call at all, but deep down, in the locked away recesses of his mind, he suspected he already knew the answer.He held his breath as he dialed the all-too-familiar number, every beep felt like a second closer to his inevitable doom.He felt his body heated as he waited. Cells coming alive. Goosebumps raised. Blood rushing through his ears as frustration and anticipation and pure fury swirled through the air like a cloying fog.The other line picked up.The world screeched to a stop as he tried to come up with the most condescending opening line he could muster.“You better be in the country.”- all those confusing emotions suspended in the air seemed to shatter at that very chuckle, raining down on him in sobering rivulets.“I am, just arrived a few days ago.”- there was a smile in his voice, low and hot and so infuriatingly proud of himself- “Let me guess, it started two days ago, didn’t it?”“Don’t flatter yourself.”- he gritted his teeth, blue nails digging into the softness of his palm.“It did.”- the cockiness of that voice did things to him, sliding down his skin- “Aw, you must have sensed me. I’m touched.”“You’re delusional.”- he barked, pressing a palm hard against his sternum to calm his breathing- “Now I suggest you shut your trap if you don’t want a bullet in your head the moment you storm, uninvited, into my apartment.”There was silence on the other end for the briefest of moment. A sense of panic rose unbidden in his throat. He couldn’t have gone too far, could he?It took all he had not to let out a rush of breath when the voice picked up again.“How long do I have?”It lacked that earlier jest, this time. He sounded so tentative it made all insults die on the tip of Johnny’s tongue.“Till tomorrow.”- he bit his lower lip, finger drawing circles on the top of his thighs.He knew for a fact Dio was running through all the things he needed to do to get here at midnight on the dot. He could almost see it in his mind’s eye, him pulling out papers from that pretentious writing table, stuffing clothes into the leather bag that probably cost more than his sofa and placing an order for groceries to be delivered to Johnny’s door everyday for the next three days.That’s just the kind of person he is. It was a pain, at first, to face the fact that he was not evil incarnated, as Johnny had been keen on believing ever since he turned ten. He knew he wasn’t the brightest pea in the pot, but even he could not turn the blind eye to all the evidence stacking up against him.It began years ago, at the place where mistakes tend to be made, some after party where the booze was great, the music was loud and the press was nowhere to be found. He was fully prepared for a media war the moment he woke up naked next to his worst enemy. Was ready to kick start the most expensive smear campaign money could buy if he let it slip in some interview about how he’s had him on all fours on the bed. Was itching for an excuse to shooting him in the fucking head should he ever catch win of any rumor involving what had happened that night in California.He was on edge for a long time, stressed out and scared like a little kid on their first day of school.He didn’t hear a pip for the next six months. Which was weird. He’d always pegged him to be the type to have the fact that they’d had sex plastered on every poster in the city. What was weirder was Dio tiptoeing around him with distress in his eyes. It was virginal and tender and so unlike him it made Johnny’s skin crawl.The last straw was when he, under the influence of mind-numbing heat hormones, got himself off to the memory of that tongue wrapped around his cock.He’d had an epiphany. Sure, it sounded crazy at first. But the more he slept on it, the better it sounded.How about using that son of a bitch as a heat aid?He was clean, or so a full STD panel he emailed Johnny the day after their little accident said. He was an omega, which beats all other candidate out there when it comes to knowing how to properly handle heats. Most importantly, he was discreet, which was probably due to him not thinking it was something of import rather than having an actual moral compass but….It would be nice to spend a heat with someone again.It was a mistake he made early on, trusting alpha jockeys to keep their mouths shut. For someone who liked to remind him how eager he was to open his mouth for strangers, they didn’t even have the decency to wait until he had fully recovered to blab to every tabloid who would listen. What a bunch of hypocrites.Fans were worse. Jump into bed with them and the next thing you know, they posted a twenty-page long expose on how they’d had you in every position humanly possible. He might be dumb, but he wasn’t that dumb. Anyone who had lived through the debacle of 15 would know better than to walk down that trap-ridden road.Let’s get one thing straight. Dio Brando was a psychopath. But he can make him come and can keep his mouth shut. Honestly that was one too many reasons for his horny ass to pop the question. Dio agreed readily. Figures. The bastard had been panting after him for months. It stroked his ego the way few things could. But alas we’re not here to talk about what a slut Dio was, appealing as it may seem.He could still remember their first time. They didn’t get off to a good start. Lots of fumbling and awkward angles. At one point, he was so sexually frustrated that he’d yelled, in painfully crude terms, what he’d like the idiot to do to him. He rubbed his thighs together as he recalled the sensation, the pure pleasure zapping down his spine at the sight of those darkened eyes, that cursed tongue swiping through his bottom lip and the pure intent emanating in minty wasps from his every pore.“As you wish.”He’d deny till the day he dies that thought caused a jolt at the base of his chest.“Can you”- Dio’s voice broke him out of his reverie, jolted him out of recollections of sharp teeth on his collar bones, a firm hand around his neck and then coming so hard he passed out. Johnny strained his ears, willing himself back to his own skin. It was so quiet he could hear the rhythmic tap of pen against paper on the other end- “Do me a favor?”“What?”- he tried to sound irritated. He wasn’t sure it had the desired effect.“Will you lock the doors?”- who gave fucking Dio the right to sound timid? It was breaking his brain- “I have your keys with me.”Ah, yes. He remembered that day in excruciatingly vivid details. How he’d debated over and over again whether he should give him a key to his apartment. He didn’t want to come off as trusting Dio with his well-being. But leaving the doors open while you’re in heat just sounds like poor judgement. Dio wouldn’t steal anything. What would he want with Johnny’s, as he’d so eloquently put it, second-hand trash? He wouldn’t snoop around either. They’d known each other for so long and it was hard to hide your tragic backstory from someone who had been there the whole fucking time and….You see where he was going with this, right? It wasn’t like he was entrusting Dio with his safety or something. It was simply the most logical thing to do.Okay?Yet he insisted on asking every fucking time, uncharacteristically shy and sweet and gentlemanly, as if him locking the doors was a privilege and not just standard safety measure.What’s the big deal? They were just doors. Normal wooden doors. Doors that only Dio could open. Oh, shit. When you put it like that, it really sounded like a privilege. That he was consciously making the choice to let him in even when he was vulnerable…He should stop thinking. It was obvious that the heat hormones were starting to get to him. It was the only reason he’d start entertaining thoughts like that.“Joekid?”- Dio prompted, the note of worry in his voice warmed him from the inside out- “Are you still there?”“Fine.”- he pushed the palm of his hand against his eyes until stars exploded behind them. There were so many thoughts floating in his head it made him dizzy- “Just fucking get here.”The rasps in his voice surprised even him, low and impatient and entirely too eager for his liking. He could hear Dio gasped under his breath, a beat of silence passed before he said, in the kind of breathy whisper Johnny hated to love.“As you wish.”He threw the phone on his pillow before burying his face into its plush surface, willing his heart to stop beating so fast. When that proved to be ineffective, he held his legs close to his chest and curled into a ball. He could feel himself heating up by the minute, fire setting under his skin and between his legs, urging him to fucking do something.What, he couldn’t say. It was between ripping his clothes off, sweeping the entire floor or hacking at his plushie with an axe.He glanced at the clock. It was around three hours until midnight. Too exhausted to sweep the whole floor, too calm to spill cotton filling everywhere and too not-in-the-mood to start getting himself off, he decided on the most reasonable option.Let’s see what he could do about those doors, then.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Diego threw his phone on the sofa and pressed his forehead against the window, willing the chill of the glass to cool down his burning face.Damn. That voice. Soft and needy and beckoning. Like a bolt of lightning straight into his dick.He’d never wanted to be an alpha. Had always been comfortable in his own skin. Had always loved his second gender despite all the trials that comes with it. He’d never thought he’d ever experience these kinds of, for lack of a better word, feelings. This need to please. This drive to protect. This crippling insecurity. All the things society as a whole had been dead set on believing only alphas were capable of feeling.Society as a whole was fucking stupid.Or maybe they were just wrong. Him. Johnny.God.Johnny.Johnny brought out things in him he’d never thought he had. Feelings he’d thought he drowned a long time ago. Desires he was still begrudgingly coming to terms with.He’d always found him beautiful, with his golden hair and his fair skin and his lovely freckles. That part was easy, admitting that he was attracted to him. So what if his eyes lingered a little bit longer than necessary on his cute butt clad in tight cotton that leaves very little to the imagination? What if he’d wondered, late at night and deep into his cup, if the pads of his fingers were as soft as the rest of him? What if he’d fantasied, once or twice or ten fucking times, of burying himself in his delicious heat? He was undeniably pretty. Diego had eyes. People tend to like pretty things. It was completely normal. Physical. Unemotional.Then he started noticing things. How late he would stay to practice. How his eyes glowed in joy when he won. How delighted he looked munching on a slice of pizza. How his brows furrowed when something wasn’t to his liking. How quick he was to tears, never ashamed of showing his emotions. They etched themselves in his mind, little snippets that was more about the man than the flawless sex symbol.The first time he saw Johnny cried next to him on the podium, fat tears rolling down his face and cheeks ruddy with self-deprecation, he had wanted to hold him tight until his hiccups stopped.He knew then that he was irrevocably fucked, and not in a fun way. No, he would never be that lucky. This thing he held for Johnny was so impossibly fucked up he was sure it was God’s way of fucking with him.You see, Johnny hated him. Would gladly blab to anyone who would (or wouldn’t) listen how shitty he is. How the world would be such a better place without him in it. How much he wanted to just put a bullet in his head.You would think such murderous intent would turn him off. Nah. Fat chance. He wasn’t that well-adjusted. He’d always thought that he was built wrong. Now he had proof. Because why else would all that hissing just inspire in him the need to cuddle Goldie locks over there underneath a blanket?Johnny liked to think that them sleeping together in California was an error of judgement on both sides. True. But not in the way he’d thought. He was drunk out of his Goddamned mind. Diego wasn’t. He was about 60% sober, and was perfectly aware he was fucking the boy who had scorned him half of the time they knew each other. He just thought, that maybe if he would just let it runs its course, his brilliant mind would come to realize how silly his feelings were and his inexplicable fascination with him would graciously vanish into thin air, where they belong.His mistake, all things considered.Johnny, true to his reputation as the most high-profiled fuckboy of the racing world, was a fantastic lay.His master plan backfired royally. All because of those God-forsaken feelings. They made everything so much better. Heightened the senses. Soothed the mind. Filled him with a sense of security and togetherness he’d never felt before.Johnny was like wine. Once he’d had the good stuff, he couldn’t just go back to peach schnapps. Sure, it’d get him drunk. But it couldn’t satisfy him like he’d hoped it would. All it did was feed into that black hole of hunger sitting under his ribs, heavy and churning and cold enough to drown him alive.Just when he thought he’d go crazy unless he could get his hands on that silky skin again, Johnny called him with a proposal. In all honesty, it was less of a proposal and more of an extortion plan, with him having everything to gain and Diego everything to lose. It wasn’t his proudest moment. He was so horny that he’d let his dick run the show. And boy was his dick loved what it was hearing, blissfully reliving all the dirty things it got to do last time, so much so that it had said yes without consulting his brain first.How could he hope to run the world if his organs couldn’t even co-operate at the mere prospect of sex?He banged his head against the hard plane. He needed to focus. He squinted at the clock until his head snapped back to attention, informing him he had been staring at the streets unblinking for more than half an hour. And if he still wanted to get laid tonight, he’d better start calling a dozen people right about now.//////////It is truly a wonder how well he operates at the prospect of kinky heat sex. He’d filed for days off at the stables, packed a suitcase full of heat essentials and ordered enough groceries to feed a family of four for at least three days in under two hours. As soon as he started calling Mr. Steel, his body took over, years of experience pushing him forward with pin-point precision. As he lost himself in the motions, his mind took over, painting him a tempting picture that only serves to urge him on even more.Johnny on white cotton sheets. Chest heaving in exertion. Fingers scrabbling for purchase. Red lips caught around a moan.Johnny against the window. Freckles blushing from humiliation. Soft skin slicked with sweat. Cursing at him in that lovely southern accent.Johnny on the wooden floor. Back arching in pleasure. Blue lipstick smeared from vigorous tongue-fucking. Nails scratching angry lines on his back.He really needed to get a grip. He was zipping up his suitcase. His clock chimed. He needed to leave. Now. Or as soon as he could get his dick to behave.He hailed a taxi. He was in no condition to drive, too turned on you’d think it was him who was expecting a heat. He wasn’t. He made sure of that. Took two pills of suppressant before leaving to make sure Johnny wouldn’t trigger something in him that they couldn’t handle.He couldn’t get it, you know? He’d had Johnny in every way there was to have. Yet he still wanted more. Wanted to be closer. Mind. Body. And whatever else is there. Wanted to have a conversation with him that doesn’t involve heat cycles. Wanted to hold his hand in the stables when there was just the two of them. Wanted to share a heat with him, for God’s sake. Why did Johnny get to be the one sexed up when he was in heat and not the other way around? It was unfair, he’d often thought that. Often fantazied just calling him up and asking him to return the favor. Often picking up the phone and half-dialing his number before cutting the call off.What would he even say? Johnny had made it clear, from the beginning, what he wanted. He goes to Johnny. Johnny doesn’t go to him. And he’d agreed. Stupidly. Recklessly. Wholeheartedly. So really, he had no-one to blame but himself. If there was one thing he knew, was that you don’t go back on a deal. It’s just disrespectful. And the last thing he wanted to do was to disrespect his…his…uhm, not his, then, just…..Johnny.He slapped a hand across his face, jolting him out of the messy thoughts and recollections swirling around in his brain. Was this really a good time to contemplate how much of an idiot he was and will likely continue to be?“You’re up, kid.”- the driver told him.As the elevator door closed, apprehension washed over him. It was vague, a little bit nervousness and a little bit dread. His higher brain functions telling him to cut his losses now before it’s too late. Before he was too deep into this cycle of self-torture that he couldn’t step away even if he tried. Before he was inevitably cast aside for something better.What his brain didn’t seem to understand, though, was that it was already too late. He could never hope to walk away from this in one piece. From the moment he, quite willingly, for the record, set foot into that pristine white bed in some fancy hotel whose room he’d since forgotten, his fate was sealed. It hurts, sure, it hurts like a son of a bitch. Like defeat and sorrow and everything in between. And the worst part was, he couldn’t do anything about it.But he was no stranger to pain, or defeat, or sorrow. He’d had his fair share of it over the years. At least there was no physical pain being done to him, which was more than what he could say about his past…relationships. Only the emotional. Even then, it was nothing he couldn’t handle. All those lonely nights missing the citrusy scent of his bed. All those jealousy-filled moments of watching some girl twirl with him in parties. All those silent suffering of reading hateful tweets he always leaves on posts announcing his latest victory. They all paled when he got his hands on the pay-off.The pay-off being the only one seeing him when he was mindless, flushed, begging. Being the only one he would call when the time comes. Being the only one who could open his doors.It does things to him. The amount of trust that goes into it. He didn’t know how Johnny was justifying that to himself, what twisted narrative he’d come up to convince himself that this was appropriate behaviors towards one’s proclaimed enemy. He didn’t mind. Not as long as he knew, that for six days of the year, he was the one to make the little blond thing happy.He never believed in all or nothing at all. Growing up, he knew well enough what it felt like to have nothing at all. Having, even if it were just a little bit, was still heaps better than not having.He took a moment in front of closed doors. A moment to whack his emotions on the head. A moment to detach himself from the blubbering mess he was. A moment to put on a mask of bravado and cockiness and devilish charm. It would crack, eventually. Johnny always managed to bring out the truth in him. But for a moment he wanted to be what he needed. This calm, confident, well-adjusted asshole who did everything right and sees him as nothing but a bedpartner.When he pushed on the handle, the heavenly smell of citrus and cream and everything that was right in the world welcomed him with open arms.Fuck.//////////Half-way through locking the doors, he was struck with a burning impulse.One thing no-one ever tells you, was how easy it was to be crazy when you were under the influence. It was never anything drastic. No. Not like, bomb a house or fire a pistol or walk naked in the streets. It was the little things. Things that are just a little bit out of character but never too far you can’t recognize yourself. Things like….wanting to put on a set of cute lingerie sitting at the bottom of his closet right this minute.It caught his eyes yesterday, while he was out picking up his suit for a fundraiser scheduled two days after the heat. He remembered staring at it the way cats stare at Christmas trees, completely zoned out, mesmerized by delicate lace and the sheer naughty-ness of it. He was fully aware, the moment the bell chimed to announce his arrival, that he had no-one to give it to. No-one to wear it for. No-one to wear it for him. Yet, at the time, having this exquisite piece of art in his home sounded like such a good idea that he’d bought it without even trying it on, the missing dollar bills burning a hole in his pockets and the delicious sense of forbiddance heating up his cheeks.He always got like this before heat, wanting to dress up. To comb his hair. Paint his nails. Put on a different shade of lipstick. It was not unusual, according to the Internet. It was just hormones. Treacherous. Stupid. Insane hormones convincing him he needed to see how good he looked in those dainty thigh-highs right this fucking minute.The more he hesitated, the more he started to believe them.He stood in front of the mirror, fingering the straps sitting comfortably on top of his freckled shoulders. White was such a good color on him, matching his creamy skin and contrasting so beautifully with the flush painting him in swatches. He looked like a Baroque painting. The cups hugged his chest snuggly, the drag of lace on skin tantalizing enough to trail goosebumps down his arms.He pulled hard at the white ribbing crisscrossing up his stomach, the fit firm but not constricting. He was a little chubby around the waist, fat he couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard he tried. It didn’t matter, though, that was how he was built. He had long accepted that. Still, it felt great to see such a structured curve running down his sides, accentuating the flare of his hips and cutting off his breathing just enough to make his body come alive. He breathed in deeply, basking in the slight squeeze around his ribs, teeth worrying at the soft skin of his bottom lip.He clipped the garter on the top of his stockings, right behind the neat bow sitting on his thighs. He’d half expected them to be itchy, as much as the clerk has assured him otherwise. He had to commend him on that. The material felt great against his skin, light and airy and luxurious. Just enough to remind him that it was there, wrapping him up nicely like a gift.He rubbed his thighs together experimentally. The drag was so good it startled a moan out of him. Breathy and needy and all too inviting.He picked up the last article, the one he’d purchased separately, for reasons he couldn’t voice even with a gun at his head. It just looked cute, he’s thought. Lacy and delicate and beautiful. Though right now, squinting hard at it in the dim light of his apartment, he was having second thoughts. Was it really a good idea to put a lace choker around his neck? It was too much like a collar. Like a sign of ownership he’d vehemently been against ever since he found out his second gender. But then again, one could argue that it looked nothing like a collar, with expensive ribbons and a glowing gold star that would look amazing against his skin. The idea made him shiver. After all, he’d always liked having something around his neck.//////////He’d almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a gasp, like a bullet shattering the quiet of the night. He whirled around sharply, hand clutching the choker tight, embarrassed at being caught in such a compromising position and at the same time loving it, shame making the front of his outfit tighter and the back slightly damper.Dio dropped his suitcase with a loud bang, eyes going wide like saucers. A myriad of emotions flashed through them all at once. Some he could point out easily, lust and arousal and excitement. Some were harder to place, things like wonder and amazement and sheer worship that he refused to acknowledge, choking them up to tricks of the light and heat of the moment.“Good evening.”- his voice drew his eyes back to the asshole’s, surprise and even a little bit shy. It only lasted a moment, though, before a look of pure evil took over, making them glowed like gems.He tightened his fingers as he saw blue eyes dropping down to the choker in his hands, trying to hide it to no avail. Dio’s face cracked into a huge grin, one he knew promises nothing but trouble.It took him only two strides to pull Johnny into a hug, face nuzzling the crook of his neck like a spoiled cat.“Hello.”- he breathed into the skin on his scent gland. His fingers slackened without his consent, just enough for the bastard to steal the choker right from his palm.Johnny hated him with a burning passion.He spun him around to face the mirror again, licking a stripe up the side of his neck. With deft fingers, he fastened the cursed thing around his neck, tying a pretty bow expertly at the beginning of his spine. The subtle squeeze around his windpipe made his breath quickened, warm air rushing out of his bitten red lips in puffs. It was suddenly so hard to breathe.The delighted chuckle did nothing to help the situation. It grated on his frazzled nerves. He was getting all hot and bothered faster than he would’ve liked. A look in the mirror confirmed it. He mentally chided himself for picking such a tight-fitting outfit, though he doubt he could find any other outfit that could cover up his very obvious erection.Dio’s chuckles turned into a devilish laugh. Long fingers cupping him through the thin lace presumptuously. A moan forced its way out of his throat at the sight, so wanton and dirty. Those fingers stroked him softly, the barely-there pressure turning him on even more. Calluses and dainty fabric make for a dangerous combo. They dragged against his sensitive skin, up and down and up and down. He had no choice but to watch in horror as a wet patch formed in front of him, hands fasting on Dio’s wrists instinctively. To stop him or to urge him on, he couldn’t tell, eyes fluttered close in shame and fury alike.“Is this all for me?”- sharp teeth tugged at the shell of his ear, forcing more shameless noises out of him.He bit his lip hard to regain some form of composure, too afraid of uttering something that could, and most likely would, be used against him. As pleasurable as this were, he must not forget who he was dealing with. His nemesis. Who could so easily ruin his reputation it made fucking him that much more arousing. He looked at himself in the mirror through half-lidded eyes. Looking at his nemesis’s hand placed so casually on his body. Looking at the lust swirling around in icy blue eyes. Looking at how red and hard he got just from a few words that weren’t even dirty.Fuckitty fuckitty fuck. Why is it so fucking hot?“You wish.”- he panted brokenly, arching slightly into the pressure.Dio obliged readily, stroking him firmly with those horrible, ugly, perfect fingers. He sucked hard on his gland, causing his scent to betray him, warm and sweet and practically begging to be taken. He gasped in horror as his legs widened minutely, allowing two wicked fingers to slide between them.“Either way.”- he felt triumph course through him at the breathlessness in that voice. As shameful as his reactions might be, the dickhead wasn’t unaffected, either- “You look absolutely stunning.”It caught him off guard. That praise, causing a bolt of lightning to run through his very core. He positively whined. His underwear going from wet to embarrassingly soaked.Fuck. He didn’t even know he had that in him.“You’re so wet.”- the other hand pulled at the bow at his belly button, shivering as silk slid smoothly against silk to unravel the knot holding fragile loops together.Dio’s fingers undid the lacing expertly, like he’d done it a million times. He probably had, the unrepentant piece-of-shit playboy that he was. He was too busy calling him every insult in the book he’d missed what evil plans those hands were up to, letting them run free on the feverish skin.A finger prod at his entrance the same time the top of his palm grinded against the base of his cock, circling around the clenching ring of muscle in a mesmerizing rhythm. The other hand had finished undoing his lacing, callused fingers walking intently across his chest before finding their mark, brushing against a pink nipple.Reasons abandoned him in the wake of pleasure. Those bastards never seem to stick around when he needed them most. He cursed himself as he arched sharply into the pressure, cherry red nub hard and sensitive. Dio laughed as he twirled his tongue around his scent gland, so rough and mean and cocky it only served to make him wetter. He dragged his sharp teeth across smooth skin, making little bursts of pain exploding behind his eyelids.He moaned loudly as he felt a burning hardness pressed against him, sliding against him in a brutal pace, the rough fabric of his pants a sharp contrast against velvety lace. Its wrongness made it all the more erotic, making the dual sensation more pronounced, drowning him in pleasure.Dio had resorted to using dirty tricks on him, alternating between sucking on the bump on his neck and moaning praises into his ear.“You feel so good”- he said, pressing two fingers against the thin fabric covering his ass.“Like a present.”- he panted, pinching the pink nipple. Hard.“So soft.”- he crooned into his ear, honeyed as ambrosia - “Can’t wait to be inside you.”He never meant to last, too keyed up from the raging hormones and the filthy slick sound and the shameful eroticism of doing the dirty with Dio goddamned Brando. So when he felt teeth sink into the top of his shoulders, felt a palm rub against the head of his cock and nails catch painfully on the soft skin of his nipple, he closed his eyes and let himself fall over the edge.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Diego came in his pants like a teenager.It was embarrassing, but he had no choice. Johnny was way too sexy to handle. The fiery scent of his heat. The lovely taste of his skin. The glassiness of his eyes. And that outfit.Gosh. That outfit.It was classy. Just enough to intrigue. It fitted him so well. Showed off the erotic blush of his skin. Brought out the impossible blue of his eyes. Emphasized the delicate arch of his neck.He’d always loved that neck. How it always seems to be coated in an addicting fragrance. How it arches back enticingly whenever he moans. How it made him come so hard whenever Diego wraps his fingers around it.Johnny’s legs buckled in the face of overstimulation. A pained whine escaped said exquisite throat. It took all the strength Diego could muster in his post-orgasmic haze to support them in an upright position.Not that that should last any longer.“Bed?”- he prompted, ducking his face against one trembling shoulder and willing his vision to snap back into focus.“Okay.”Without wasting another moment, he heaved Johnny onto the soft bed with a thump, silently thanking the high heavens they were so close to the bed. He knew his limits. If they were somewhere else, he would have to drag Johnny to bed like a disgruntled owner his giant dog. He might be, as Johnny said, delusional, but he was not crazy enough to think that wouldn’t earn him a bullet to the head. Johnny might be in heat, didn’t mean he was any less scary.He carefully peeled the lace off him. The wet patch made him blush. He was by no means a blushing virgin. He’d done his fair share of kinky shit. Hell. He’d even done some of them with Johnny. Still, the thought that he’d put the time into picking out this delicate-looking outfit, then putting it on, just for him. It got him hot in a way that was not completely sexual. He chanced a look at Johnny’s face, shining blue eyes watching his every moment. He felt his heart skipped a beat, suddenly bashful again. He shook his head, putting all his energy into not ripping anything. He could hear a relieved sigh when the bodice was off, a delightful little sound between a breath and a moan. He smiled, putting everything he was holding into a nearby hamper.He was in the middle of rolling down the stockings when Johnny spoke, jolting the ever-living daylight out of him.“Keep them on.”- he wiggled his toes, the blue of his nails blinking up at him.Diego’s eyes snapped back up to his icy blue ones. The intention in them almost took his breath away. He was pulling himself up with an arm supporting him, the other reached out to tug at Diego’s long sleeves.He was such a marvelous sight. Cheeks stained red, making the freckles stand out like blinking stars. His lips shiny, little teeth still in the middle of bruising them up. Eyes so blue and so wild. Fierce in a way he’d seen a thousand times before but shy in a way he had never. And the star. He hadn’t noticed that star. Not until this very moment. A metal star sitting amidst a sea of lace, cradled by the slope of his collar bones. As gold as the hair on his head. Glinting in the warm light like a beacon.“More.”- he said, tugging on the wool again, the slight movement causing the light to shift, bouncing off the surface in a song as mesmerizing as a siren’s.How could he ever hope to say no?Diego was on him in seconds, bruising his pretty lips with feverish kisses and malicious bites. He moaned into them so prettily, arching up like the docile cat he wasn’t. It didn’t take long for it to escalate. He shoved his tongue down Johnny’s throat only to hear him whine, soft tongue winding itself around his in a delirious tangle. He felt fingers in his hair, tugging just hard enough to sting. The pain sent him into a frenzy, hands smoothing down the delectable lines of his body, in search of the thing he loved most.It was impossible to fondle his ass in this position, he realized with a frustrated groan. His hand kept getting blocked by the bed, preventing him from placing a single finger on his prize. He traced his fingers up the line of his calves in contemplation, debating between being bracketed between these soft thighs and massaging those tempting globes. He wanted both, the glutton that he is. But so far, all the positions he’d come up with could only afford him one thing, but not the other.If only there was a way to have both.//////////It took a little maneuvering. Johnny was resistant to being moved at the moment, comfortable as he was hugged by fluffy warm sheets. But it was doable. With enough caresses, a few too many kisses and a whole lot of begging, he’d finally got Johnny on top of him, blue nails digging into the skin of his chest.“You so owe me for this.”- he huffed, nails sinking deeper into skin. Diego groaned without remorse. Sucks to be him. Diego loves pain.“Anything you want.”- he grinned up at him, finally getting his hands on that beloved butt, squeezing them in his palm with a satisfied groan.The sudden movement darkened his cheeks, making them closer to the finest red wine France had to offer. There was murder in his eyes, sending a bolt of heat straight to Diego’s dick. He was obscuring the light, a halo falling behind his head, making him looked like an angel. If angels have a tendency of threatening to kill you while making you horny out of your mind.He arched back into Diego hands, eyes fluttering shut, gold lashes glitter in the dim light. He could feel Johnny’s hard-on, pressing against the front of his pants. Hot. Heavy, wet with anticipation. He widened his grin, cock perking up in his ruined underwear. His eyes fixed themselves on that fair neck again, mesmerized by the way the prized star hung in the air.“Should I.”- he made sure to catch Johnny’s eyes before he spoke, tongue swiping through his pink lips in a deliberate motion- “Help you out.”- he grinded up a little, just to hear him moan.Johnny took a moment to think it over, head tilted to the side. In the end, he shook his head, fishing his cock out from his too-tight pants. It bounced up to nestle next to his, the contrast of cold night air and heat-flushed skin making him hiss.“Use your hand.”- Johnny pressed his thumb against the softness of Diego’s lower lip. He bit it as if on instinct- “I feel like hearing your stupid voice today.”“Oh?”- he hastily slicked up his hands with the lube he knew Johnny always keeps under his pillow- “And what would you like to hear.”He wrapped his hand around them loosely, basking in the feeling of making Johnny groan with only a single touch.Johnny stubbornly clamped his mouth shut after that seductive little sound, refusing to answer him.Such an uncooperative princess.“Would you like me to praise you?”- he started stroking slowly, dipping the other hand between those lovely cheeks experimentally.He almost stuttered at what he found there. Johnny was dripping wet.“Call you a champion?”- he circled the pink muscle slowly, thrilled by the way it clenched and unclenched under the pads of his fingers.“My angel?”- he tried to make his voice sarcastic, but his heart betrayed him, jumping like a rabbit in his chest- “My darling prince?”“Uhm.”- Johnny was shaking his head, cherry red lips held sharply between pearly white teeth.He thumbed the head of his cock softly, coaxing out more slick. He was wet. Very much so. But not as much as he wanted. Not as much as he could get. Diego was missing something. Something Johnny wanted from him today but refused to tell him, cryptid and stubborn.Being silent wouldn’t help. Diego was a smart boy. He had a feeling he knew exactly what it was.“No?”- he pushed a digit into him, groaning at how hot and tight and absolutely perfect he was- “How about I tell you all the filthy little things I would do to you this time?”A rush of slick was his response. So responsive. So eager. So sweet. His imagination was running wild, and his mouth with it.“You like that?”- he thrusted his finger slowly while squeezing them tighter together, urged on by the delicious way Johnny moaned- “Such a spoiled brat you are.”“You wanna know what I’ll do?”- his accent was showing, muddling up the sounds a little bit. But he knew Johnny understood him just fine, if the way he was shivering was any indication- “I’ll open you up real nicely for me. Until you’re begging for me to put it in.”“Fuck.”- Johnny hung his head, back arching in a graceful curve.Jackpot.“I won’t give you what you want.”- he put in another finger, slowly, ever so slowly, until it was in to the knuckle- “No.”- moved them together, sharply, scissoring him open- “First, I’ll make you come on my fingers.”“You’ll be so fucking wet.”- glassy eyes watched him lick his lips, hungry and mischievous- “You’ll soak my hand with your slick.”“You wish.”- he was fully into it now. Diego grin got wider.“Don’t you worry, darling.”- he smirked, pumping his fingers all the way in, basking in the way Johnny’s hand fisted the soft material of his sweater- “I’ll clean you up real nice.”“How?”- he was fucking himself eagerly, grinding up into his fist and then down onto his fingers. It made all sorts of fireworks explode in Diego’s belly.“With my tongue.”- he kissed the tips of those soft fingers, marveling at the way the tips of his ears reddened at such an innocent act- “I’ll eat you out until you scream.”“You can try.”- he felt Johnny’s channel clamped down around him. He was getting close.Truth be told, so was Diego.“You will.”- he said confidently, widening his fingers until he heard a groan- “I’ll make you come over and over again.”“You can’t.”- he squeezed his eyes shut, a frown marring his beautiful features.“You know I can.”- he crooked his fingers, making the pretty blond thing cry out. It was music to his ears- “And then, when you’re too tired, too slick and open to protest, I’ll finally get my cock in you.”“Fuck you.”- he panted, though he made no effort to slow his movements.“No. No. No”- he tsked, increasing the rhythm- “I won’t, sweetheart.” His hands were getting tired, but he tried. He always tries for Johnny- “I won’t fuck you the way you so desperately want to be fucked.”“I’ll stay so still inside you.”- unlike his words, he kept going like a champ, brushing intently against the sensitive spot he’d known by heart- “Won’t even touch you. I’ll make you do all the work.”“Bastard.”- lovely little thing. He was so eager, shaking his hips wantonly.Oh, if only he could sear this image into his brain.“Do you want to come, honey?”- he halted the movement and squeezed harshly, startling a yelp out of his soft lips- “Do you want to come on my cock?”Johnny was shaking his head while trying to fuck himself back on his fingers. Such a contradictory little minx. He tried his best to stop the struggling, a mean edge creeping into his voice, the shade of darkness he knew Johnny loves.“Tell me.”- he ordered, fucking harshly up into his fist in emphasis- “Or I won’t let you come at all.”“No.”- he whined, the fire in his eyes burning brighter. It evoked something inside him. If it wasn’t for the hand squeezing him tight at the base, he might have embarrassed himself.“No?”- he let go, fingers going slack around them.“No!”- Johnny protest vehemently, fingers tugging on his wrist- “Yes.”- he uttered, shame coloring his whole body red, from the tip of his nose to the base of his cock.Damn. It felt so good to torture him like this.“Not enough, Joekid.”- he teased him with a pump, causing them both to let out a frustrated moan.It took Johnny a moment, cheeks aflame. Lips parted. Shaking everywhere. He looked like he was having a hard time letting go of his pride, even in something as inconsequential as bed-room powerplay. He was aching. Wanting. Knowing he would have to give in to have any kind of release at all. And very mad at himself for it.He was fighting a losing battle. Boy did it give Diego the power rush of his fucking life.“I want to.”- he whispered, voice low and cracked and so, so sweet- “I want to come on your cock.”He doubled his effort immediately, going from one to 360 in a matter of seconds. Johnny tipped his head back with a stream of moans, elegant throat bobbing with every lewd movement.“Come for me.”- he croaked, holding just enough to finish right after Johnny did.Johnny looked so pretty when he comes. Hair framed his face messily, glinting like strands of hand-spun gold. His was red all over, as though bathed in the glow of sunlight. He was wet everywhere. Sweat running down his heaving chest. Tears beading at the corner of his eyes. Slick dripping between his legs. White painting the front of his stomach.He looked thoroughly ravaged. Debauched. Pleased. Diego had always found him most charming in this state. Sated and bold and so undeniably his.His post-nut musings were rudely interrupted by an oomph. Johnny fell on top of him like a ton of bricks, soft breaths tickling his hair, face pressed into his scent gland and hands clenched tightly around the wool of his best cashmere crop top.//////////What the fuck?He struggled under the weight, trying to shove Johnny off him and onto the mattress where sleeping princesses belong. He was so fucking mad right now. How dare he drop off like that and let Diego deal with the consequences? He could have broken something on Diego’s person. Hell. He could have broken his own nose. Have you ever try rushing an omega who is in heat, your rival and has a broken nose into an ER? Well, neither was he. But he was pretty sure he would be in jail within the hour.That aside though, Johnny just passed out on him. Right after coming.Fuck. He felt his stomach do a flip as he hid his face in the crook of that fair shoulder. He’d just made him come so hard he passed out.He tried to keep being mad, but he couldn’t. Not with the way Johnny was lying flushed against him, face buried in a pillow. Not with the way he was still holding his sweater in his grip. Not with the way he smelt, like happiness and contentment and satisfaction.He was so fucking whipped, wasn’t he?He gently entangled his fingers and got off the bed, heading for the bathroom. He was on his own now. He sighed. There was quite the work to be done. The outfit needed washing, or it’ll stain. The rest of it needed to come off, or it’ll be all itchy when the adrenaline wore down. The bastard needed a thorough wipe down, or he was going to be all sticky and gross and uncomfortable. He would get all hissy, as though all his discomforts was somehow Diego’s fault, like he weren’t the one who passed out just from a mere round of fucking.He could feel his face heat up again, hot enough to fry an egg. He needed to calm down. He’d made plenty of people come. It was no big deal. Hardly an accomplishment. Definitely nothing to be all gushy and mushy about.“Bathroom, Diego.”- he chided himself, doing everything in his power to stem off this glowing sense of pride eating away at his mind- “Now.”He tried to clean up as best he could. It was a lot, but he managed. He could never imagine doing all this on his own, which was why it was such a good idea to shackle up with someone, even if that someone was your bitter enemy. It brought about a bout of melancholy. Which he tried to shake away by wiping Johnny down, letting acres upon acres of milky skin distract him from his somber thoughts.He was still a little bit wet between the legs. But such was the lengths of what Diego was capable of. If he lingered any further, he was afraid his body would get ideas. He didn’t know what the proper protocol for this situation was, but he was sure as hell it doesn’t involve popping a boner next to a very willing, very sleepy, very defenseless blond little thing with a scent that was just begging to be wrecked.He sighed and dropped down onto the bed with a thump. He was tired. It had been….six hours (?) of roller-coaster, his emotions being pulled in all directions all at once, regardless of how hard he’d tried not to let it get to him.Johnny tucked himself next to him with a sigh, face squashed into his shoulder, rubbing cutely like an affectionate cat. The first time it happened, he’d almost jumped out of his skin, heart beating a mile a minute, obsessively going through all possible interpretations until he tired himself out. But he’d since grown used to it. Hours of vigorous internet research had led him to conclude that it was because he usually runs colder than the normal human, which makes him a tempting cooling pads for in-heat omegas, who always feel like they were burning up from the inside out.“Dio.”- Johnny nosed his scent gland, blond locks falling down his forehead messily. He clung onto his arm, holding it like a pillow.“Fuck you.”- he whispered as he tucked those strands behind his ear. He reached for his phone, checking for any new messages while resigned to being used as a personal ice block.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
He couldn’t remember much what went on. He never did. Such was the very nature of heat. Once it started, it’s like being very sleepy but having to wake up to pee. You still knew what you were doing. You still understand information just fine. But as far as memories go, they were blurry at best. Just little snippets, like cut scenes from a trailer.Dio putting him in the bathtub, steam fogging up everywhere. Dio feeding him breakfast, spooning him fork-full of fluffy pancakes that definitely didn’t come from his cupboard. Dio fucking his brains out, pouring lewd promises into his ear as though they were honey.It had been endless hours of mindlessness and pleasure and exhaustion, a mist falling over him like a warm blanket. It was beginning to clear now, a little bit at the time, signaling the tail end of his heat. Just another twelve hours. A day, tops. Then he’ll be back to being a functional member of society.The thought caused a jolt in his chest, somewhere close to his heart. There was a vague sense of disappointment, something between melancholy and nostalgia. He couldn’t really name it, though, as doped up as he was from all the hormones jumping around in his body. Who knows? He might just be hungry. Such was the confusing ways of hormones.He basked in the rare feeling of being slightly buzzed. Not completely drunk, but not all there either. He buried his face into a soft pillow, nuzzling it contently. It was pleasantly cool, if only a little damp. Man, he could get use to this.Except it wasn’t his pillow. The minute he started rubbing his face, a yelp sounded somewhere above him. His pillow, or more accurately, the thing he thought was his pillow, was yanked away violently, causing distress and anger to swirl in his gut. He squinted up at the lights to find out who had so rudely disrupted his peace, the earlier buzz almost gone but still simmering low at the base of his stomach.Apparently, his pillow was actually Dio’s thigh, sweaty and naked and right next to his fucking face.“Johnny.”- he gasped, hiding both hands between his thighs. Johnny had not failed to notice that his other thigh was also naked. Or the fact that he just called him “Johnny” instead of “Joekid”. Dio loved that stupid nickname, always insisted on using it, if only to get on his last nerve.Something was fishy here. He wrinkled his nose, surprised at the potent smell of mint in the air. Dio here was excited. And an excited Dio never meant anything good. He arched up to catch his eyes, icy blue bearing into glistening teal. Asking him. No. Demanding him to spill his guts on the floor. He was doing something. Johnny was sure of it, bringing his face closer to inspect those blue-green orbs further. There was a spark in his eyes. A glint of desperation and…“Ah.”- Dio moaned, face wrenched to the side.Confused, he tried to inspect the rest of him, fixing his gaze on the pinkness of his shoulders and the sweat-matted fall of his hair…Oh. Oh. Oh Dio, you dirty little pervert.“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”- Johnny croaked out, voice cracking with disuse. But he didn’t let that stop him from conveying his burning anger.“What does it look like I’m doing, genius?”- Dio shot back, teeth biting pink bottom lip- “I’m jerking off.”“Not on my bed you aren’t.”- he shouted, whacking him on the shoulder- “You kinky fucker.”- he unleashed his rage, body aflame with anger- “Right next to my face, too, why don’t cha?”- his accent was showing, but he didn’t have time to worry about it right now- “How dare you defile…”“Fuck you very much, asshole.”- Dio shouted right back at him, canines glinting in the low light- “There wasn’t any defiling going on, okay?”- he made vague gestures with his (moderately) clean hand- “Keep your kinky fantasies out of this.”“Fine.”- he slapped him on the thigh. Dio gave a hiss that he was 100% sure wasn’t purely pain or anger.“I’ll go.”- he made to get off the bed, pulling the blankets with him- “Can’t do it while looking at your stupid mug anyways.”For reasons he failed to fully fathom, that sentence dug at him personally.Hormones, right?“Wait.”- he pulled at Dio’s wrist, halting him- “Don’t…”“What now?”- Dio was staring at him through his shoulder, blue eyes alight with embarrassment and desire- “Make up your mind, dickhead.”Fuck. He was so irresistible right now. So full of passion. Cheeks stained with bashfulness. Voice pitched low with want. Body vibrating with poorly suppressed need.For Johnny. All for little old him.Something was pulling at his throat. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. Something he couldn’t put into words. Something he couldn’t even begin to dissect, as tangled as it was in the mess that was his thoughts.All he knew, in that very moment, was that he wanted, so desperately, to just….talk to him.“How about.”- he swallowed through the lump in his throat. The idea sounded stupid even in his head. But the words were pushing on his ribcage, banging on his chest, desperate to be let out into the light of day.So he did.God help him, he did.“How about I talk you through it?”//////////Ok, wait. What the fuck did he just say?That seemed to be the current thought of everyone in the room.“What the fuck did you just say?”- Dio’s eyes went as wide as saucers- “You want to.”- he frowned, as if knowing he was going to regret it, but decided to ask anyway- “Talk me through it?”Truth be told, he didn’t know why he’d said it. But now that he had, he couldn’t help but wanting to run with it. There was an edge to the whole thing. A danger waiting to be chased down. A prize beckoning him from the end of the tunnel. He didn’t know what it was quite yet, just that every instinct in him was screaming at him to come and get it.“Yeah.”- he swallowed, forcing the cockiness back into his voice- “I’ll make you come so good.”- he bit his lip. He was starting to panic a little bit, at a loss of what to actually say should Dio said yes.Which he would, right? He had to.Right?“Oh yeah?”- Dio fixed his gaze on him challengingly, the side of his mouth quirked up in an amused smile- “Then let us hear that dirty little fantasy of yours that would get me to come so good.”The doubt in his voice was setting him on edge. He didn’t like the fact that Dio needed to think about this. He was offering to get him off. What was there to think about? Shouldn’t he jump at the mere opportunity?He’d been panting after him for years.“Is it….Is it because he isn’t…anymore?”- Johnny was about to go mad with thoughts, churning and swirling and tangling up inside his brain. This wasn’t the issue here, Johnny! You should be focusing on coming up with something real dirty, real fast. Him liking you isn’t the issue. You don’t even like him.Do you?“Nevermind”- a thought won out over the rest, an urgent voice batting against the side of his head- “Just tell him that thing.”- it said, insistent and beautiful and utterly, wonderfully, crazy.“No.”- he shook his head in protest, trying to block it out. He couldn’t tell Dio that.It was embarrassing.And he was drunk. Maybe. A little bit. And in a bar. Where bad thoughts seem to always stem from.It didn’t count, okay? It didn’t.“Go on.”- he was staring at Johnny now, relaxed and flushed and so arrogant. Legs spread like a challenge. Fist wrapped loosely around his cock.He looked at the blue of his eyes, shining with mirth and mockery. At the way he was reclining against the headboard as if he owned the place. At the flushed head peeking out from his clenched fist, enticing and rapturous, yet so goddamned infuriating at the same time.He opened his mouth, and wreaked havoc on both of their lives in one fell swoop.//////////“Lately, I’ve been fantasizing of being yours.”- he breathed, as much a lie as it were a confession.“What?”- Dio’s eyes were full of confused frustration, betrayal clear in his voice. His face was the epitome of rage. But his body betrayed him. His cock drooled white, slick running down the side. He let out a pained groaned, his voice hardly above a whisper- “Why would you…”He felt himself grew wet, an inexplicable heat spreading from his cheeks to his toes. Arousal? Embarrassment? Interest? He didn’t know. Yet he kept on going, emboldened by the reaction.“I kept thinking about going to the movies with you.”- he mumbled, voice hoarse. Dio’s eyes glowed like stars in the darkness. He opened his mouth, no doubt eager to get a word in.“You’ll want to watch some pretentious Oscar nominee. But I won’t let you. I’ll make you watch an action flick like a normal human being, even if it were the last thing I’d do.”Dio’s jaws closed with a click, dark brows set in a furrow. He still looked conflicted, sharp teeth biting on the plumpness of his lips. But at least he wasn’t protesting. Wasn’t eager to open his stupid (hot) mouth and shut this whole thing down. Johnny took that as a sign to go on.“You’ll ask me out on a date.”- he smiled coquettishly at him from under blond lashes- “God knows I’m not going to cave first.”Dio laughed, catching his eyes. There was fire in them now. A spark. Beckoning him closer, like a moth to a flame.“You’ll want to take me to some fancy place, show off your money and your wine knowledge and your sharp black suit.”- he smoothed his hand across the sheets invitingly.“But you should remember, darling.”- the pet name rolled off his tongue like sugar, making Dio shudder prettily- “I come from old money.”- he crawled forward, slowly, hips swaying in invitation- “That ain’t gonna impress me.”Dio was circling the head with his thumb, the slick sounds making him part his lips on instinct.“What would impress you then?”- he asked, voice pitched low enough to match the darkness of his eyes. They were so fascinating, those eyes. Johnny had never noticed before, how they turn sapphire from lust- “Darling?”“The best pizza joint in town.”- he folded his arms, emphasizing the light arch of his chest. He saw Dio’s eyes being drawn to them. How very predictable of him- “Pepperoni. Cheese. Never mind those veggie things.”Dio chuckled, moving his hand slowly, done teasing himself. It seemed whatever qualms he might have had in the beginning had vanished into the back of his horny mind.That’s good, then. He didn’t mind arguing. It’s like 70% of their interactions. But he would hate to argue now, when he was itching to get his fingers on that flushed body.“I’d even let you take me to whatever excuse of a place you think sells authentic chips.”- true to his expectations, Dio whined when he put emphasis on the word “chip”, shoulders pulled up in pleasure.“That posh British bloke.”- he chuckled a bit as he recalled the strange way Dio would talk sometimes. His little British omega was a curious creature, indeed.“You like that?”- he was beside him now, breath ticking the side of his face, enticing promises pouring right into his ear, the way he’d done to Johnny not too long ago- “How about I go with you to a banquette instead?”He wrapped his hand next to Dio’s, blue contrasted sharply with cherry red. The image was whorish, which only served to turn him on even more.“I’ll let you put me in a suit. Blue, to match my eyes.”- he licked the shell of his ear, teeth catching softly on the lobe- “If you were a good boy, I’ll even dance with you.”He tightened his fist, making Dio groaned out in frustration. Oh yes, he loved that.“After that.”- he breathed, guiding Dio’s fingers to his entrance, calluses catching on the sensitive rim- “We’ll fuck in the bathroom.”“Oh God.”- Dio sunk his fingers in him without hesitation, pressing against his walls eagerly.“What about the races?”- he crooked his fingers in the way he knew Johnny loved, desperate to get some sort of control back.He wouldn’t get it so easily.“I’ll still beat your ass.”- he moaned as he sped up, openly panting into his nemesis’s ear.“And if I won?”- he turned his face to the side to look at Johnny’s. The world stopped for a moment. His eyes were so blue he felt like he could drown in them.“I’ll let you kiss me on the podium.”- he bit Dio’s lips, soft and slick and sweet like cherries.“Fuck.”- he sped up into a frenzy, seemingly at his wit’s end. Johnny felt himself clenched sharply around the intruding fingers. He, too, wouldn’t last for much longer.A string of words fell from his mouth in a hurry, as if he were afraid he wouldn’t have the chance to get them off his chest, ridiculous as it sounded. He was the one who started this, and yet he felt like a spider caught in its own trap.“I’ll get you ice cream.”- he promised, pulling Dio into a bruising kiss.“You’ll take me to the aquarium."- he demanded, riding his fingers like a champ.“We’ll video chat when you’re away.”- he requested, arching into the bite Dio put on his collar bone.“We’ll make a gingerbread house for Christmas.”- he suggested, jerking Dio off with long, firm strokes.“We’ll…”- he panted, eyes glazed over from lust and heat and pleasure.“We’ll drink whiskey in the snow.”- Dio kissed him back, desperate and wild and so wistful it broke his heart.“We’ll be very happy.”- there were tears in his eyes. Johnny’s heart throbbed painfully.They didn’t come together. That was something that only happens in movies. But it was close. As he threw his head back and screamed into the ceiling, a thought entered his head.“What’s stopping them from doing exactly that?”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Diego fell down the bed in a heap, spent and raw and the most confused he’d ever been his entire fucking life.What the fuck was that?Is there even a word for that, he wondered, burying his face into a pillow and screamed his lungs out. Did he just seriously get off at the prospect of being in a relationship with Johnny fucking Joestar? Who the fuck does that? Who the fuck thought that a future together would be good get-off material?The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. He knew Johnny was cruel, but he had never thought him capable of doing this. Sure. He’d put up with a lot of shit just to hold him. But to have it thrown in his face? To have it be spelt out in vivid detail just for kicks? No. He wasn’t having that. He might be a simp, but he refused to let the little dickhead walk all over his heart. Who would he be, if he allowed Johnny to spill his insides out on his floorboards and get away with it?No. Hell no.“With all due respect.”- he panted, trying his best to keep himself in check- “Let’s never do that again.”He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration, counting prime numbers in his head. He was at a state where he couldn’t feel anything clearly anymore. They were still there, the mess of emotions, simmering under his skin. But it was as though he was desensitized to it all, numb and tired. He was so fucking done with everything. He just felt hollow. And vaguely sad. And beyond caring what any of this even mean.He heard a sob next to him, as small and helpless as he felt. He looked over in alarm, afraid something was hurting the blond asshole. He might be an asshole, but Diego still cared about him. Yes, even after that stunt. He was stupid, he knew. But that wasn’t the point here.He peered over to see Johnny crying, tears rolling down the side of his face in glinting rivulets. There was a mess of feelings in his eyes, too closely intertwined it was impossible to tell them apart. His face was red, with anger or irritation, he couldn’t tell. He didn’t even get why Johnny was crying in the first place.“Are you seriously crying?”- he asked, squinting his eyes suspiciously. How can a booty call devolve into such a disaster?“...No.”- Johnny hiccupped, angrily wiping at his eyes.“Sure.”- he agreed good naturedly, turning him over to take a better look at his face- “And I’m the fucking King of England.”- it surprised him how easily Johnny let him, hands lowering good-naturedly to look him in the face.“Why’re you crying, Cinderella?”- he wiped his tears away with a finger, heart skipping a beat with how cute he looked, even when he was being such a drama queen.“Hormones.”- Johnny looked pissed, at himself, at Diego, and no doubt at the situation. He didn’t tend to lie, so Diego decided to take his word at face value.He waited for the sobbing to subside, kissing his forehead and shushing him softly. Sober, Johnny would have killed him for the presumptuousness. But that was the beauty of heat. He wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow. Even if he did remember snippets, as was the case with most heats, the mere scenario would have been so ridiculous to him that he would just chalk it up to fever dreams or something.“You’re okay.”- he kissed his nose. His ears. His cheeks, mummering words of reassurance he knew meant nothing coming from him. Yet somehow, it worked. The sobbing died down, and the tears soon after, until it was just them, holding each other like a pair of saps.The things he does to get laid.“Don’t leave me.”- Johnny said. Nay. Demanded. Face pressed into the side of his shoulder.“What?”- he grunted, arms winding tighter around his waist. What brought on this bout of sentimentality, he wondered? Sure, Johnny had been more affectionate than usual during heats, but it had never been like this. Was there something in the food Diego fed him? If those companies think they can sneak hormones into his groceries, he swears to God…“You said you never want to do this again.”- he licked his scent gland shyly- - “Don’t stop coming here.”- he hummed as the scent of mint rushed out in response- “I don’t want to stop spending my heats with you.”- he felt Johnny kissed his shoulder, and something in him just broke.“Sure.”- he agreed easily, fingers smoothing up the line of his spine- “What I meant was, I don’t want you to talk like that while we’re doing it, that’s all.”“Like what?”- he sounded genuinely confused, as if he weren’t a word away from pissing Diego off- “You don’t want me to tell you I want to date you?”“Fuck you.”- the anger was back, burning him up from the inside out. Though, in all honesty, it was pretty hard to be mad while the target of your anger was nuzzling your shoulder- “Don’t say shit you don’t mean, asshole.“But I did mean it.”- he pulled on Diego shoulders, blue eyes big and sincere- “I did think about it.”- he said, biting on his bottom lips- “I don’t like to think about the fact that I thought about it.”Diego sighed. Great. What a wonderful time to find out your one-sided crush might have feelings for you: when he so helpfully reminding you he was too much of a jerk to ever admit it to himself. It was so unfair. Johnny was under the influence. He was going to forget all about this and go on his merry way and continue to be a dickhead to Diego except when he was in heat. It was him who would have to live with the knowledge.What would he even do? What could he even do? Nothing. Yeah. Absolutely nothing.In all his time trading rumors and secrets, this was the most useless piece of info he’d ever had. And it was just his luck that it involves him. And his dick. But mostly him.“Hey.”- Johnny kissed him, slow and soft and unprecedentedly chaste, just a soft peck that woke and broke his heart at the same time- “Say you believe me.”“What’s the point?”- he asked, still sharing a breath with him. It was the most intimate they’d ever been, and probably the most they’d ever be- “You’re gonna forget everything anyway.”“Will you remind me?”- he kissed him again. Sweet. Loving. Like he just wanted to kiss him for the sake of it. It was a thought Diego was in no way prepared for- “When I ask you to, will you?”His eyes were glittering. Like a light. A star. A dream. He couldn’t help but fall into it.“Maybe.”- he promised, not wanting to lie. Not to him. Not in this moment.“Maybe is good enough.”- Johnny smiled, then kissed him some more.It felt so good, he thought, licking his lips asking for entrance. Johnny opened for him like a flower, pink tongue tangling with his. He hooked his arms around Diego’s neck, pulling him in softly. He groaned as their bodies came into contact, feverish skin meeting feverish skin. It felt like this was real. Like they were real. Like it could somehow last, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary.Diego wouldn’t mind kissing him forever.//////////He woke up to find, that it was finally over.Johnny stretched on the bed, slowly working out all the kinks in his muscles. He tried to assess the damage, even though he knew he didn’t need to. It was out of a sense of self-preservation more than anything. He knew, even before all of…whatever this was started, that Dio wouldn’t hurt him, at least not intentionally. Sure, he might not act like it most of the time. But deep down, in some hidden part of his mind, he could appreciate the fact that though Dio was a douchbag, he was not an abuser. With how he grew up, that was good enough.He sighed as he heard his spine popped. It was such a revitalizing feeling, freshly out of heat. It’s like waking up after a long sleep, full of energy and ready to start the day. Like getting ready for a long-awaited trip, giddy and can’t wait to get going. Like having a shower at the end of the day, relieved and eager to spend time for yourself. It was as though all the best little moments of the day just come together at once. Routine. Banal. Comforting.He tried to shake away the insistent voice in his head, telling him that it hadn’t always been this way. Heat used to be a lonely, cumbersome, risky affair where he had to take care of himself while being high as a kite, never mind the fact he couldn’t do a very good job of it when completely sober.That was, until Dio stepped into the picture.It was like he dumped half the burden on him and ran with it. Dio, uncharacteristically graceful of him, took it without a single complain, despite the fact that he complained about pretty much everything else, from Johnny’s clothes to his diet to his Wi-Fi plan. Johnny, for his part, turned a blind eye at his suppressant use. There was nothing harmful about them, per se, just that they were banned by the Committee for some discriminatory reasons. Well, fuck them. If they could run illegal betting rings on the side, Dio could take his suppressants. And if it benefits Johnny in the process, then so be it.The water fell on him like a curtain, isolating him from the rest of the world. He wondered if Dio knew, that he’d been looking out to make sure no-one catches wind of his little secret. Not that he needed to, really. He’d often wondered why he didn’t report him to the Committee. He could’ve ruined his career with a single phone call. Which led to another question. Why did Dio let him in on that secret in the first place? Didn’t even try to hide it. They never really spoke about it, but he must’ve known that Johnny knew, right? Everything just adds up. And Johnny couldn’t have come this far in life if he couldn’t piece together a thing or two.Was it because it involved Johnny? Or was it because he knew Johnny’s loyalty to his second gender would win over his hatred for him? Did he know Johnny that well? Or just had that much faith in him?Butterflies fluttered in the base of his stomach. Dio? Knowing him? Trusting him? It sounded like a fever dream. Yet it didn’t feel out of place at all, settling comfortably in the cavity between his rib cages. Something inside him insisted it was true, telling him that he was missing something. A feeling urged him on, as fragile as mist but as strong as steel, convincing him that Dio remembered something he did not. A voice whispered in his head, nagging, demanding answers. It felt hormonal. Irrational. Mad. Yet it fed right into his nature. He had no choice but to give in. He really, really hated it when Dio had the upper hand.He followed the scent of coffee to the kitchen, having learnt a long time ago the inseparable relationship between Dio and black coffee. Espresso. Turkish. Cold brew. As long as it’s as black as his soul, he’d chug it down like that’s what he had been put on this Earth to do. Sometimes, he wondered if Dio liked fucking him just for easy access to his coffee maker, but quickly discarded the thought. Knowing Dio, he probably already had some fancy machine with no fewer than ninety switches at his place.He wondered why the rascal kept making coffee every morning he was here. A thought jumped to his head, but he pushed it away. It can’t be true. It sounded ridiculous. Fantastical, even.He couldn’t be that committed to making coffee just because it would always calm Johnny down, right?“There you are.”- Dio said, pouring him a piping hot cup. Freshly brewed coffee. Some milk. Two cubes of sugar. Just the way he liked it.“Dink up.”- he put the cup on the kitchen island with a clink, the aroma mouth-watering- “You tend to threaten to murder me less when you’ve had a cup of coffee.”That got his attention. There was something…different about Dio. Something cautious. Guarded. Defensive. Walls in his icy blue eyes. Doubt in the crook of his smile. Fear (maybe?) in the quirk of his eyebrows. The earlier feeling hit him like a truck. Something had happened. He knew it in his bones. Something momentous had gone down that left Dio even more of a little bitch than usual.If only he could figure out what that was.The little bastard wouldn’t tell him, he knew. Not now. Not straight away. He always likes making a show out of it, playing dumb until you forced his hand. Or give him something he wanted. But there was one thing he didn’t know, was that Johnny knew him. Saw him, without the rose lenses of admiration, straight to the blackness of his core. Studied him, almost obsessively, from the sound of his voice to the hooves of his horse. Felt him, inside and out and everything in between. If anyone can fish that information out of him, Johnny could.He wrapped his hand around the cup, trying to jog his memory. He couldn’t remember everything, he knew. But snippets were still better than nothing. So far, nothing’d come to mind just yet. He could keep on trying, though. Can’t really rush your subconscious mind, can you?“So.”- he took a shot in the dark, twirling the cup around in his hand- “Is there something you want to tell me?”Dio stiffened, only minutely, but he noticed. There was a fog in his eyes. Walls coming higher. Trenches digging themselves deeper.Yep. He was definitely hiding something.“Nothing?”- he prompted, taking a cup of coffee. Dio’s right. He always functions better with coffee- “You sure about that, darling?”He didn’t know if he noticed that Johnny’d noticed, but he did. Dio loved it so very much when he called him “darling”. Must have something to do with his poshness, he’d reckoned. But he would shiver. Eyes darkened. Cheeks slightly flushed. Imperceptibly dumber.Exactly like he was now.“What do you want to know?”- he, too, took a sip of coffee from across the counter, eyes never leaving Johnny’s.“Everything.”- Johnny shrugged, picking up a cookie from a nearby tray. All thoughts of strategy flew out of his head. He just went with the flow, melting into the look in his eyes and the way he inched ever closer to the heat of his body.“Pff.”- Dio let out a frustrated laugh, smoothing a hand through his blond locks- “Sure.”- he took another sip of coffee, his body relaxing a little bit- “You called me up on Friday…”It was the wrong thing to ask.“About yesterday.”- he guessed, relying solely on his body language. It must have been yesterday, if it left Dio this wound up and him this deep sense of unease. Any longer, he would have forgotten all about it and Dio over there would have had time to gather his thoughts.It seemed like he was right. Dio once again became stiff.“What do you remember about yesterday?”- he asked, which he realized right away had given him away. He covered it up by taking another sip, but Johnny’d already got him.He spared a moment to wonder if Dio’d really had a lapse of judgment. Or if he were, on some level, wanted to tell him but was afraid he couldn’t.Unconsciously or consciously, he’d left Johnny an opening. He would be a fool not to take it.“Nothing.”- he answered truthfully, thumb caressing the handle. He had to find the right way to phrase this, even though he wasn’t very good with words. That was more Dio’s expertise- “Which is why I need you to remind me.”There was something about that word. “Remind”. It got them both stiffening up. Something was shining in the depths of Dio’s eyes, golden and bright and beautiful. He gave him a soft smile. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach. It wouldn’t be anything bad, it told him. Not necessarily something good, either. Just real and raw and so uniquely them. And he would regret not getting to hear it.“We can just assume…”- Dio said carefully, biting his lip.“No, we can’t.”- he insisted, reaching his hand across the marble surface, burning blue eyes bearing straight into his soul- “I want to know.”Dio swallowed, echoing his earlier question.“What do you want to know?”- he asked, fingers twirling around the rim of his cup.He was giving him a challenge. A test. There were a lot of ways he could answer. They all sounded the same to him, all demanding a common type of information. But they were no doubt all different to Dio, the social butterfly that he was, capable of teasing out even the littlest bit of emotion from everybody. He took a deep breath. If only he could remember something. It sucks that he couldn’t, but he doubted he needed to. He could see the answer in Dio’s eyes, shy yet hopeful. It resonated with him, with something intrinsic within himself. Like that feeling where you couldn’t find a word, but the moment someone said it, you knew it must be true.“I want to know how you felt.”- he said it calmly, face heating up in the process.He had never wanted to know how Dio felt. But now he did. Yet somehow, it didn’t feel out of character at all. It wasn’t just an answer to get some sort of information out of him. It was what he really wanted. Shocking. He didn’t know how it happened. When it happened. But somewhere along the way, he’d stopped considering Dio as a means to an end. And he didn’t mind the fact that it didn’t bother him one bit.Dio looked at him with a smile in his eyes. As soft as the gold of his hair. As real as the cookie he was still holding in his palm. As radiant as the sunlight streaming through the thin curtains. The toaster tinged, but neither of them cared. Johnny stomach reprimanded him, telling him to pay more attention to food like he was supposed to, but he was honestly way too absorbed in the way Dio was reaching out his hand, just enough to brush his callused against soft fingertips.“As you wish.”- he agreed, cheeks tinted pink in the glow of dawn.It was then that Johnny knew, despite all his accusations of him being an unrepentant liar, that whatever he was going to say next, would be the truth.