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It was a small time job. That was a dangerous mindset to have. There were only four of them, and a single bullet could throw a wrench in everything if it hit the right way, but they could do it with three and had run it with two.
So it was a small time job.
They were in an upscale gallery, the sort with velvet rope and security guards that stayed awake through the night, and too many people not asking about prices. A little surveillance, a little interference, a little pick pocketing towards the end and someone would call in an anonymous tip to the Feds. By tomorrow morning the Chief of Police would be in jail, and there would be one less organ dealer in the city. But that didn’t matter to Joe at the moment.
What mattered was that Nicolo was in a crisp coat and tie, his hair tamed with gel, and his gaze hawk sharp. Joe had watched him secure a blade to his ankle holster, but he held his tray like a weapon, offering champagne to people who couldn't see past their noses. There were only two people in the entire room, the entire world, who could tell his gait was anything less than graceful.
Joe sipped his Perrier.
Earlier that day, Joe had pinned Nicky to a wall and kissed him senseless. With his tongue in his mouth and his teeth on his lips, he'd pressed a short, thick plug into his hands, the sort with silicone buttons on the end that said it was more electric than not. Remote controlled.
Nicky's eyes had gone dark, his nostrils flaring as Joe stroked down his chest. Yusuf had known he'd get what he wanted before he even asked.
That was a little over three hours ago.
Now, Nile had the Chief wrapped around her finger, and Andy was in the wings watching their newest recruit a little too closely. As soon as he spotted the last of their team, Joe gestured with one hand, and the other reached for the remote in his pocket.
He watched as Nicky's breath caught, and his thoughts seemed to scatter into white noise. A faint flush lit his skin, but Joe knew better. Nicky was not going to fall apart so easily, even with sort of exquisite torture, even if it had been building inside of him for hours, the vibe more prominent every time he moved, the vibe hitting just the right spot to make his knees feel weak.
Nicky’s shoulders tensed when he inhaled, but he crossed the room to where he'd been summoned and held out the tray in perfect form. "Another drink, sir?"
There was no trace of sarcasm in his voice, nothing that gave anything away, and yet Joe knew his heart best. He could read the struggle just in the way his partner held himself and in the speed of his breathing. With a benign smile, Joe set his empty glass on the tray and deftly plucked another.
"Thank you." He said, then quietly enough that no one else could hear. "I like it when you call me sir."
Nicky just gave him an inscrutable look that lit its own flame inside of Joe. "Of course, sir."
Another faint flush was his reward, though this time there was no telling if it was embarrassment, outrage, or desire. Knowing Nicky, it would be all three.
Nicky’s pulse rabbit fast. Beads of sweat dripped down his collar. Joe wondered, if Nicky's was already leaking through his pants. The thought made his mouth go dry. He slipped his hand into his front pocket. He pulled out a silver handkerchief, and let it fall to the ground.
Nicky's entire body tensed, his tray shifted.
"Pick that up for me." Joe said, casual as anything. He turned the vibrations up steadily.
Nicky’s stomach clenched. All evening he'd swayed like a reed in the breeze, stopped mid-step like he forgot where he was going. He'd nearly walked into a wall, still balancing his tray. Nicky was the most mobile of them, the one who could get to Nile fastest in a pinch, and Joe took great pleasure in watching him stumble.
Whenever he'd approached any of them, Joe let the toy run faster, until Nicky's eyes darted around the room. Joe didn't have the decency to maintain a pattern, switched everything on a whim and a prayer.
He watched as Nicolo's lips parted, eyes dazed and glassy, and all that came out was, "Excuse me?"
Joe kept him there, gaze pointed. "Pick it up."
Nicky closed his eyes, letting a shaky breath pass through his lips. The night was far from over and Joe wondered how close he was to breaking. The glasses clinked again as he shook just a little, desperately clinging to some semblance of control. It wouldn't do to drop everything and send shattered glass everywhere.
Slowly, with the tray still balanced in his hands, he bent to snag the handkerchief by the tips of his fingers. The movement made the plug shift and for one awful second, the tray wobbled as pleasure shot through his nerves like an electric pulse.
With the softest gasp, he straightened quickly and steadied his tray, eyes never leaving Joe.
"Your handkerchief, sir."
Joe considered it. His fingers skimmed over Nicky’s hand as if to examine the kerchief, and Nicky could breathe. Joe tapped his wrist twice. After a beat, Nicky returned the gesture. Their sign now, their understanding.
“Keep it.” Joe said, infuriatingly smug, and dismissed him without another word. Across the hall, Joe caught Andy's eye, the ever so subtle tilt of her head. He wasn't sure if it was question or accusation. He smiled all the same.
They'd run this job with two before.
That reminder was slowly driving Joe insane. Andy and Nile were more than capable of handling this. Nile was the only one of them that was packing, and the sleek svelte pistol in her purse reminded him of the Cold War in the best sort of way.
He watched Nicky nearly walk into another waiter, catching himself at the last minute. Traced the line of his clothes, sleek and form-fitting, and thought about that plug, so thick and heavy in hand. He'd left his cum still warm in Nicky's body before he pressed the toy in, made Nicky thank him for it.
Joe caught his eye across the room, and retreated towards the bathrooms.
He didn't wait long.
Nicky barreled through the door like he'd chased him, hands going to Joe's shoulders and waist, pawing at his cock like his life depended on it. "Santa Maria madre di Dio-"
Joe laughed and pulled him into his arms, only to feel Nicky sag against him like a puppet on cut strings. His hips were canting as if on their own volition, little sharp motions. Joe reached behind him and locked the door.
Joe wrapped a hand around his throat, two taps on bare skin. Nicky breathed hard, whimpered against his shoulder.
"Yes. Si."
Joe pushed him away, hand wrapped around his throat so tight he could feel Nicky swallow. "I didn't say you could do that. If you want to cum you're going to earn it, sweetheart.”
“We only have a few minutes."
"That's all the time we need." Joe pinned him against the wall and kissed him hard enough to bruise. The teasing had brought an edge of desperation to Nicky's kiss and all Joe wanted to do was feed that fire to see how hot they could burn.
Joe kept one hand around Nicky's frantic pulse and reached into his pocket, ignoring the fingers that pulled so insistently at his belt. He found the remote and boosted the intensity so suddenly that Nicky's grip loosened and all his partner could do was gasp.
"Don't you dare come yet, you'll ruin your clothes. You can't run this op looking like a mess." Joe scolded lightly. "You'll have to do better than that."
Nicky bared his teeth. Joe grinned like a knife edge.
"On your knees."
Nicky scrambled to obey. Joe undid his zipper, and Nicky was on him like a drowning man. He sucked his cock, quick and filthy, trying to fit as much of he could into his mouth at once, and Joe gave into a sigh. Pleasure lapped at his nerves, a pleasant dance towards relief. He kept his hands in Nicky's hair, just holding. Let him debase himself for his cock, soft, muffled grunts catching in his throat, as Nicky trembled between his legs. Slender fingers dug into Joe's thighs, and he lapped up every inch. He loved the taste of him, the slight hint of salt, the way Joe's hair brushed against his cheeks as he took him in. He only pulled off when he needed to breathe, gasping for air and drooling across the head of Joe's cock.
"Look at you, sweetheart. You're a mess." And Nicky blushed pink.
Joe traced the outline of Nicky’s in the front of his slacks, eyeing the shape of it hungrily. This was a game and there was too much at stake if he lost. “If you get me off fast enough, sweetheart, I can take care of you.”
Nicky’s body pulled wire tight like he could shatter at any moment. He swiped his tongue across the sensitive head, teasing in slow circles as he turned his eyes up to Joe, making sure the other man was watching as he slowly swallowed him down, driven by new fire.
Joe pressed his leg between Nicky's spread thighs, hard against his leaking cock, and Nicky almost snapped. Want like broken glass shot through his veins, and he ground into Joe’s leg like a bitch in heat, his nose pressed into his master’s crotch. A sharp tug on his hair, and Nicky was forced to stop, his head pulled back. He watched with wide eyes as Joe traced his spread lips, calloused fingers catching where he was flushed and sensitive. When Joe pressed his thumb into the seam of his mouth, drool spilled down his cheek. “You’re beautiful like this, Nicolo.”
Nicky sobbed.
Joe fucked him hard. His cock thrust deep into his mouth, filled him to bursting until it felt like his throat opened to the shape of him, and Nicky clung to him like a drowning man, gurgling wetly as he was used, Joe lost himself to the sweet hot suction of his throat.
The sound of a phone in the too quiet bathroom made Nicky freeze. And Joe groaned, pulling out with an obscene pop. He came all over Nicky's face, covered his face in strings of cum, and all Nicky could do was take it. He blinked up at him, lashes clumped with moisture, and horror dawning on his face as Joe answered.
In his bespoke suit, voice as cool as ever, and barely a hair out of place, Joe wiped his cock on Nicky's cheek and put himself away. Nicky opened his mouth to chase him, didn’t even seem to notice.
"Boss."
"Whatever you're doing with Nicky, hurry the fuck up. We're moving out."
He was smiling when he withdrew, and with a flick of his wrist, the vibe quieted, not off, but far from demanding. Nicky still hadn't moved.
"Clean up, sweetheart. It's time to go."
Nicky blinked.
For a second, Joe was sure his lover was going to break.
There was a glint in his eyes that Joe hadn't seen since the fall of the Byzantine Empire. It was practically murderous, a feral gleam that lurked at the very heart of his priestly warrior. He wondered if Nicky would hold him down and demand release before they moved on and his partner's hands twitched like he was thinking the exact same thing. A few minutes more, that's all they needed. Just a few minutes-
Slowly, Nicky got to his feet and made his way over to the men's room sink, cleaning off his face and smoothing his hair down. He was still flushed and his hair was damp but clean enough, no one would be able to tell unless they looked closely enough.
Nicky caught his eye in the mirror, fixing him with an unwavering stare that sent thrill of anticipation through Joe.
No one but Joe who knew exactly what he'd written into Nicky's skin tonight.
"I expect you not to tire yourself out before we get back." He said too calmly. "You will not be sleeping."
--
Nile was ecstatic on the drive back. This was her win, better than they could have expected for an undercover mission. Andy watched him from the passenger's seat, suspicion as sharp as her smirk, but Joe teased and cajoled until he made them laugh.
Nicky didn't say a word the whole ride.
--
They made it to their bedroom door and no further.
Nicky had his hands on him the moment it closed behind them. He grabbed Joe by the tie, hard enough he choked. They were kissing, open-mouthed and hungry, Nicky's hands on his hips, grinding into him like he could fuck him through his clothing.
Joe caught him by the wrist, twisted it behind him and pinned Nicky to the wall. He ran a hand, heavy and possessive down his spine, cupped a handful of his ass, before pressing into the seam of his pants, like he could get at the plug still jumping and buzzing inside him, and Nicky moaned openly. "Strip."
"Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad ibn al-Kaysani, you play a dangerous game, caro mio." Nicky warned in a low voice. "You had best be prepared to finish what you start this time."
That gleam was back and Joe kissed the corner of Nicky's jagged smile as he eased up just enough to let Nicky move. Careful hands unbuttoned his shirt as Nicky slowly undressed, turning the game back on Joe until he was the one who felt like he was about to burst. Nicky laid his shirt on a nearby table so it wouldn't crease and all Joe could do was watch the line of his body beneath his undershirt. The pants came next, belt jangling as Nicky pulled it free, considering silently for a moment with a look to Joe before setting it aside as well. Joe gulped a little as he stripped off his socks and pants, folding them and setting them beside his dress shirt.
It was too much. He hooked his fingers into Nicky's undershirt and yanked him forward into another kiss. "Any slower and you might need some help."
"Then why don't you?"
"I like watching you touch yourself."
Nicky was going to say something snarky. Joe silenced him with a kiss, and ran his hands down the hard panes of his lover's body, as familiar and as dear to him as his own. He pressed in close, his cock hardening against Nicky's hip.
His palms flattened over his ribs, fingers fanning out to flick teasingly against his nipples until they perked beneath his touch. Soft cotton shifted between them, and Nicky hissed into their kiss, as Joe touched and touched. With the hem of his shirt, he screwed Nicky's cock in his fist, and Nicky shuddered so hard, he almost fell over.
"Stronzo. Pezzo di merda-" Nicky's eyes fluttered shut, and he dragged his teeth across his plush lower lip, pearly white against bright red.
"When have I denied you?" Joe challenged, voice soft like a knife in shadow. His fingers felt too clumsy for the remote's buttons, but Nicky hissed, trying to press closer. His cock leaked white over Joe's suit. "When have I kept anything from you?"
"You ask too much."
"Because I want to worship you." Nicky couldn't look at him. Joe lifted his chin with two fingers, watched him pant and shiver. "I want to be so close to you, we share a pulse. I want you to come alive with my heart in your chest."
"You already have."
Joe kissed his forehead, granted him absolution.
"Bed. On your knees. Go on."
Nicky moved with grace that Joe knew wasn't just for his benefit. The years had given him a confidence and an awareness that only made his natural gifts that much more. It was like each year burnished the gold in him until he shone brighter and brighter. Joe had never known there was love enough in the world to feel this way about another person. Now, it grew every year to match.
He was so pretty as he settled himself on his knees on the bed, stripping off his shirt until all he was wearing were the black boxer briefs that did little to hide his modesty. The front was damp, Nicky's thick cock restrained by the fabric, and Joe licked his lips. He looked at Joe with those piercing blue eyes, like some kind of angel, penitent and waiting.
Forever wasn't long enough to spend with him.
"Go on."
It was all the encouragement Nicky needed as he peeled the wet fabric down his thighs and gripped himself with a groan.
"Slowly, love. I want this to last."
"It's lasted four hours." Nicky whined, but he let go, and buried his fingers in the sheets. Good to know he was still well enough to be petulant.
Joe grabbed what they needed off the table, and settled in behind him to kiss the base of his spine. He pressed his fingers against the plug, feeling it buzz and jump, and then Nicky shudder against him. He pulled it out until the thickest part pulsed against Nicky's swollen entrance. Skin flushed red stretched obscenely around the plug. Then Joe pressed it all the way in.
"Joe-" Like he was mourning, voice gone thick, and Joe was going to wring each sound from his lover’s body.
He could feel the toy vibrating all the way to his elbow. Joe was drawn by the sensation, the tension as Nicky's body clutched at the intruder, how he seemed to relax and tense all at once when Joe fucked him. Nicky's cock hung between his legs, leaking freely. He bowed his back like an archer had pulled him taut, wanton and shameless for it.
"Ask for it." Joe ordered. "What do you want?"
"You." Nicky whispered, barely able to shape the words. "You, please."
That was all the invitation that Joe needed. He closed his fist around Nicky's cock, earning a strangled groan. Nicky dropped to his hands and knees, head low and eyes squeezed shut as Joe began to work him. He stroked him slowly, swiping his thumb across the dribbling slit and then down to gently squeeze his balls. Before Nicky could recover, he fucked him with the vibe, teasing his greedy hole until Nicky's keened.
"I need a little more than that." He teased and earned himself a string of hissed curses in Italian.
"Joe!" It was a broken plea, muffled by Nicky's face buried against the mattress. "I swear to God if you don't fuck me in the next ten seconds I am going to break something. PLEASE, I need you."
Nicky was still whimpering when Joe's pants hit the floor, and he stepped between his spread legs. Still hissing when the plug dropped to the mattress, leaving him gaping and open, and Joe's fingers hooked into his rim, smeared lube across his entrance and, "No, no, don't need it, God, fuck hurry I need you, I need you-"
He quieted only when Joe kissed his nape, his hair tickling Joe's nose, and Joe slipped into his tight, slick heat, felt his clutch flutter around him, like Nicky didn't know how to hold on. Nicky’s fists were knuckle white around their sheets, form arrested by sensation, like a picture captured on canvas and paint.
The spell broke after Joe turned his head and kissed his mouth, breathing life into him, and a ragged sob escaped him.
Joe's hips snapped, and Nicky fell forward. The grip on his hips was a vice, and Joe spread his cheeks, exposed the tight furl of his body as he pounded him into the mattress. Knees dug into sheets, his pace quickening and Nicky shuddered with every thrust, breath punched from his lungs, and there was no room left for more when he was so full.
Nicky’s toes dug into the mattress, trying to push closer, offer himself up, but Joe already had him, mind, body and soul. Nicky didn't know how to tell him he could almost still feel the toy, like it was still pressed inside him, and he hadn't stopped trembling. His body felt like a livewire, at the mercy of the force that carved through him.
Nicky was mumbling something, fragmented and broken pieces of a prayer. Half of it to God, the other half a blasphemy in Joe's name. Hours of torment had left him raw and there was nothing left of his control. He lost himself in the feel of it, the stretch and the ache, the way Joe knew every part of his body and how to coax each new jolt of pleasure. His thighs trembled with the effort and sweat pooled down his back, hair plastered damp to his skull.
He still wasn't ready when the building pressure finally broke. He gave a choke yell, shuddering as his body spasmed and muscles corded tight. His vision went white, swallowed up in nothing and everything, a burst of pleasure and relief that wrung him out and left him gasping. He came across their sheets, long wet spurts that clung to the fabric and to his skin. And then again, another orgasm ripped through him before he'd had strength enough to recover, body so oversensitive that it crashed through him wave after wave.
Light flared too bright, the world constricting to the places where Yusuf touched him. Nicky struggled around his lover's name, breath catching in his throat. Then Yusuf guided him into another kiss. He fucked Nicolo on his tongue, filled him from both ends, and when he shot a second inside him, Nicky collapsed on himself.
His closed his eyes, gave in to the rustle of fabric, the sweetness of another kiss. Joe pulled out of him, sent trickles of cum spilling down his thigh. Everything went fuzzy.
When Nicky could see again, he was under the covers, and a water bottle was pressed against his lips. Joe was petting his hair, and looked at him with such open fondness that Nicky forgot how to speak.
You do not have to say the words, and I know you love me. But you'll spend too many anyway, and my heart will burst will all the ways you make me feel.
Nicky's voice failed him. He drank.
Then Yusuf finished off what he didn't, and tossed the empty water bottle in the vague direction of the garbage can like a monster. It rolled somewhere and became a problem for another day. Nicky couldn't even nag about it because he felt so good.
Calm settled over Nicky, warm with liquid limbs, and the whole world gone in a delightful haze. Relief had stolen all the building tension from the evening and he let himself sink into that comfort, reveling in the weight of Joe's body against his own.
"Are you okay?" Joe asked in Italian, sleepy soft and impossibly sweet. Nicky held his hand.
"Just thinking." Nicky said. "I don't think I make a good waiter."
Joe laughed, and Nicky smiled, and between, he tapped twice on his lover's wrist. A reassurance and a reminder.
Nothing else in the world could ever feel quite so much like home.