[Fanfic] The Promise 9a/10

[berseker]

Title: The Promise 9a/10
Authors: Sakuratsukikage and Berseker
Rating: PG-15 / SEX. LOTS OF IT.
Pairings: Brazil/Argentina
Summary: Sex turns out to be... not as simple as they had thought. But then again, nothing ever is.



Part 8: Luciano took a deep breath, and then smiled at him. It was probably Martín’s fault, but now everything seemed to be so solemn.

He locked the door and turned to him, and for a moment it felt like he was about to do something he had never done before.

He didn't want to think about the past, not again, not now, anyway, but it was like the past was still here, still happening even if he wanted to ignore it. Martín, looking so proud, and haughty and beautiful and desirable, and... it had been easy, back then, to ignore the warning signs, the fact that he was angry, that he didn't really want it, that kissing him would be a bad idea, it had been so, so easy. To walk to him and hold his waist, and kiss his lips and just- all that joy over being there, so close to him.

Luciano smiled, a little... maybe nostalgic, maybe something else entirely. He had been so innocent, back then. Enough to think that everything started and ended with a kiss, with the light touch from his lips.

Martín noticed his smile, but didn't ask anything. He just raised his chin a little and glared, and Luciano thought he was afraid, or- ok, maybe not afraid, he was worried about being mocked. That Luciano was smiling like that to make him nervous. Which was silly, because Luciano himself was aware of the... he didn't even know, the greatness of this. He had to swallow again, thickly, because, come on. He'd actually be having sex with Martín. Actually. How long had he wanted this? And he felt a little dizzy, for a second, before he managed to take a deep breath and push that realization to the back of his mind again, where it just sat there, making his heart speed up and his skin feel warm.

So he went to him - three, four steps that felt like crossing a mountain, that he didn't even notice taking - and held his face with both hands, feeling the warmth of Martín's cheeks, and looking into his eyes, and- how could he forget, he had done this so many times, back at the ship, and it was partly because he knew Martín couldn't push him away and he wanted to make a point, and partly because he was just so beautiful that Luciano wanted to look. And Martín smiled softly and let himself be admired, and then he raised his hands and held Luciano's wrists.

He didn't know who moved first, but then they were kissing. His mouth felt familiar, and sweet and warm and kissing him was so different from kissing anyone else, and maybe Luciano could tell him that- one day. Maybe. And then everything vanished, the memories, the confusion and everything, and there was just the taste of his lips and the feeling of Martín's body pressed against his.

And then Martín's hands pulled at Luciano's shirt, before they moved restlessly down his back and pulled the shirt out of his trousers, and then pressed against the bare skin revealed by it, and Luciano could feel himself gasp at the warmth of those strong hands against the small of his back. Martín smiled against his lips and one hand skimmed up along his spine to splay, warm and heavy, against his shoulder blades, the other still curled in the hollow of his back. Luciano's skin tingled wherever he touched, like his skin was burning where it came into contact with Martín's.

Luciano curled his arms around Martín and held tight, feeling the shape of him, solid and lean and strong, through the flimsy barrier of his clothing. Martín was trembling, just a little, though his kiss held no trace of tension in it, like there was just a little part of him that hadn't forgotten to be nervous yet. Well, he'd forget to be nervous before Luciano was through with him, that was for sure, Luciano thought. It was still strange, to feel so possessive of him, but if Martín was like that over sex with Luciano, of all people, who he'd pursued to Rio and all of it, then Luciano was glad that no other man had been allowed to do this with him first. It was a strangely protective feeling, as if being allowed to do this was somehow precious, and Luciano ran his hands up over Martín's shoulders, which were broader than they looked, and into his hair and kissed him again. He supposed that was the thing about Martín complicating everything. Everything seemed that much more intense, more important. And more insane, too.

He pulled away after a long moment, and then he brought his hand up and curled it against Martín's cheek as he got his breath, resting his lips near his ear just for a moment before he pulled back. He brushed tangled locks of golden hair back off Martín's flushed face and kissed his forehead. "You want to sit down?" he asked, just for a second getting distracted by the contrast of Martín's shining golden tangles of hair against his own dark skin.

"All right," Martín said, as if it had been his idea, and sat down on the bed like it was a throne or something, or a seat at an expensive table at the best restaurant in Brazil. He was so good at that, really, Luciano still couldn't believe it, so he just smiled at him and knelt on the floor to put his hands on his leg, just under his knee, and then ran them downward to tug at his boot. Martín sort of gasped, and bit his lip again, and that high color was back, flaming in his cheeks, and Luciano almost wanted to say something, like, if you tell me to stop this time, I'll listen, but instead he just tugged off the boot, then went to the other one and tugged that one off, too, and then set them aside, before he scooted forward and rested both hands just above Martín's knees, curling his fingers gently just under his thighs.

"Nice boots," Luciano said, still feeling a smile curving his lips, and he thought it was almost a little bit of a silly smile.

"The best," Martín said, and his chin tilted up and everything, and then he smiled back, and that made Luciano laugh and reach up to tangle his hand in Martín's hair again, brush it back from his forehead, and twist the bit of it that stuck up around his finger. Martín blushed, still smiling, and that one lock of hair twisted easily around Luciano's finger, tangling even more. Martín's ears turned red, and Luciano let go of it to smile at that. It was funny - he'd always been so distracted by how beautiful Martín was, and how annoying, and how much he made Luciano's heart ache, it was like he never remembered how strangely, stupidly endearing he could be.

He kissed his lips quickly, just barely long enough to feel Martín's lips part under them, then sat back just enough to pull off his stockings, and wrapped his hands around his ankles. His stockings had been expensive too, of course, fine-woven cotton. Luciano's thumbs were resting in the hollows just beneath the knobs of bone, and he could feel Martín's pulse in them, just like he'd have been able to at the soft places in his wrists. And if his pulse was any indication, his heart was hammering, pounding so hard in his chest that Luciano was surprised he couldn't hear it. Martín took a deep, halting breath, and Luciano just listened to his heart through the skin under his fingers for a moment before running his hands up under the strong, rounded muscle of his calves.

"Nice legs, too," he said, and grinned up at him.

And Martín blushed even more deeply, but he smiled and said, "The best, of course," and Luciano grinned, because he'd been hoping he'd say that. He kissed Martín's knee, then leaned up to curve his arms loosely around Martín's waist. He knew he was still grinning at him, but he couldn't seem to care about it.

He could feel Martín's slightly uneven breathing under the hands resting loosely against him, could feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt. He tugged that shirt out of Martín's trousers, sliding his hands against his skin, just over his waistband, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his stomach, through his shirt. He could feel Martín's muscles shudder under his lips, and Martín took a deep, uneven breath, one hand landing in Luciano's hair for a moment. "I should do the same for you," he said, and his voice was sort of breathless, and not quite certain of itself, but then he took a deep breath again and said, with more certainty, "I'll get your boots, then."

And he grabbed Luciano's arm and tugged him up onto the bed, sliding to the floor himself. And Luciano put both hands down on the bed and stared, because Martín was kneeling in front of him, on the floor. In real life. His fingers tangled up in the cover of his bed, and he swallowed with some difficulty.

Martín bit his lip, and Luciano thought that he should remind him not to do that, but then he picked up Luciano's leg, and ran his hand up it to rest under his knee. He wasn't looking at him, but Luciano could still see it as he took a breath. His eyelashes fluttered, and then tugged Luciano's boot off, and moved to the other one. He pulled that one off, too, and then carefully rolled Luciano's stockings down, off his feet. His fingers brushed against Luciano's skin, and he felt very warm as he pulled the other one off, then set the boots aside, off with his, and looked up again. "Well," he said.

"Well," Luciano said. The floor was smooth and a little cold against his bare feet. His voice sounded hoarse, he realized with some surprise. He reached out and let his hands slide back into Martín's hair, and he smiled, a bit.

"What now?" Martín asked. He curled one arm around Luciano's back, turned his head to kiss the inside of his wrist, then leaned forward to press a kiss to his chest. Luciano wondered if Martín could feel how quickly his heart was beating, now.

He pressed a kiss into Martín's hair. "What do you think?" he asked.

"I don't know," Martín said, "you weren't exactly clear." He wasn't sure if Martín sounded put out or teasing or what, and he didn't think Martín was sure, either.

"It won't be that different," he said. "And I mean, it's more straightforward, right? Because I'm a man just like you." He grinned at Martín, and Martín blushed until his whole face was furiously red and the blush was moving down his neck. He probably shouldn't tease him, Luciano thought, but it was true, and besides, it was... cute, to see him blush like that.

"If you say so," Martín muttered.

"You just need to trust me," Luciano said, still smiling, tangling his hand in Martín's hair again. He meant it teasingly, or he thought it did, but Martín bit his lip and nodded, seriously.

"All... all right," he said. His voice was low and a little breathy. His hand pressed flat against Luciano's back, and Luciano thought that it was almost to reassure himself. He wanted to tell him that he didn't have to be so nervous, that it was fun, really, but he thought he'd probably just be annoyed if he said that out loud.

Annoying Martín wasn't really what he wanted to do right now. There was something warm and tight around his heart, and he wasn't sure if it was because Martín had just said he trusted him, or because he felt a sudden strange surge of protectiveness, again. He was going to make this good for him, really good, and not just because it would be embarrassing if he wasn't good after... well, what he'd said, because it seemed like Martín was determined to remember it, the idiot. But because he wanted to. Because Martín deserved it, anyway.

"All right," Luciano echoed. He tousled Martín's hair, again, and smiled as he pouted, just a little, and blew hair impatiently out of his face, turning his head slightly to get his hair out of his eyes. His eyes were heated, green fire, but Luciano couldn't tell if the expression in them was sultry or impatient, which was just so Martín it made him smile. He ran his hand down from his hair and let it rest against Martín's face, following the line of his cheekbone with his thumb, tracing it over Martín's lips.

Martín didn't quite gasp at that, but he took in a breath, and his eyes slid closed, and Luciano brushed his thumb against his eyelashes, feeling the fluttering tickle of their softness against his skin. "You have to remember to breathe, though," he said, and he was teasing, a little, but he was glad his voice came out sounding gentle. Somehow. More so than he'd expected it to, even. He traced his finger against the bruises around Martín's eye, trying not to press too hard and hurt him or anything.

Martín's eyes opened again. "I will," he said with a huff of breath out through his nose, as if to prove it.

Luciano grinned. "I hope so," he said. Martín scowled at him. "Hey, don't look at me like that," he said. "Sometimes it's harder than you think." He put both hands on the sides of Martín's face and kissed him firmly. Martín kissed him back, eagerly, and his hand came up to curl around Luciano's neck. It was strange to be leaning down a little to kiss Martín. He had done it before, but- he didn't want to think about that now. Martín's knees had to be getting sore, kneeling like that. Luciano let his hands slide down and curl around Martín's back, allowing Martín's eager response to push them both backward against the bed. Martín fell on top of him, their mouths sliding together warmly, and Luciano held him there and kissed him for a long moment before he pulled away.

Martín propped himself on his forearms, on either side of Luciano's head, and grinned breathlessly down at him.

"What?" Luciano demanded.

"I like that," Martín replied.

"What's that?" Luciano asked.

"Don't be stupid, when we kiss," Martín said. "I missed it, you know."

Luciano had to swallow, and it stuck in the back of his throat. "Oh," he said. He was sure he could have said something, but he didn't, for some reason, because his chest was feeling tight and he was too busy feeling warm and... well. It was just that he'd never thought that Martín would miss... that, really, and what with being in love with him and everything it made sense. But still. "I'm glad," he managed to say. "I like kissing you." His cheeks were burning again, and it made him feel stupid, to say that, because... because it was the type of thing people would think was stupid, but it was worth it for the way Martín's face lit up, and the way he smiled.

"I know you do," Martín said, pleased, and he probably did, because he was always saying it. It was amazing, and Luciano wondered if he would be able to do that too. Smile at him and just say I know you love me and not wait for him to deny it.

But he would try to sound a little less smug, if he did that. Just in case. Now it was getting a little harder to breathe, but Luciano didn't want to let go yet. Breathing wasn't important. Feeling all his weight like this was, because then he felt real, and here, and so comfortable and warm and Luciano put his arms around his back, holding him closer. Martín shifted, so he could touch Luciano's lip with his fingertip, and then he added:

"I like your mouth."

He was tracing the shape of his lips, now, pressing it lightly, he looked almost shy, and that was so, so weird, so strange and unusual and endearing, somehow. Luciano smiled:

"Really? What do you like about it?"

"I just - do," he said. Now he sounded embarrassed again, "It's a nice mouth. I like it. What do you want me to say?"

"You're charming," Luciano said, laughing, "And no, it's not. Yours is nicer."

His was... too... well, different, and too big and - anyway that was not the point, the point was, he was sure he would remember that later and cringe and feel like punching himself for being so soppy and kind of conversation was that to have with him, of all people?

But the compliment made Martín smile again. Luciano would have to get used to this too, to how happy praise made him. But he had to breathe now, so he shifted a little too, moving Martín so they were lying side by side.

"No, I - I know you... didn't like when I said it, but you are very attractive. Beautiful. I mean it."

… or he could start cringing now. He almost told him they didn't have to talk - and not about that ride, of all things, because Luciano still didn't want to think about it - and that Martín didn't have to compliment him or anything, that this... this didn't have to be a part of it. He had said straightforward, right? Martín was going to make him nervous, doing that.

"You have this way of being attractive no matter what you do,” Martín said, because he didn't know when to drop it, “I wanted to tell you, what you did there was... pretty interesting, you know. What you said. What you - offered."

Luciano groaned.

"Oh God. I apologized for that, so you should forget it already. I thought you were planning to be nice."

Martín rested his hand on his cheek, curling his fingers at the back of his neck, and kissed his forehead:

"Don't worry, I'm just saying,” he laughed, “I don't really expect you to do that."

"Doing it it's fine, I just don't think we should discuss it."

He tried to remember if he had ever planned the details beforehand. Somehow, it always felt like things just flowed.

On the other hand, things with Martín tended to go wrong if left to themselves, so maybe he had a point.

"Really? Are you fine with it?" Martín said. He looked surprised, as if this was completely unexpected. Luciano smiled, feeling a little better.

"Sure, why not? And -" he tried not to leer, but he couldn't really help it, "Tell me, then, how long have you been thinking about it?"

Martín's cheeks flared up, and he looked away, which was kind of sweet, considering how close they were, and how he still had his fingers running thought the strands of Luciano's hair and Luciano had his arm around his waist and there was no way to run, really. Luciano smiled, and gave his lips a light kiss:

"I thought about it too, so tell me. Please?"

"Back at - the ship," Martín mumbled. Then he tried to clear his throat, and his voice came a little stronger this time, "But it just crossed my mind, that's all, I wasn't planning to ask you or anything. I wouldn't do that to you."

His face was still red, and he still refused to meet his eyes, which was good, because Luciano's smile faltered a little.

"Uh? Do what?"

"That. Make you do that to me."

"You mean - sucking you off?"

"Yes," Martín said, giving him a quick, hard glance, and then looking away again, "That's what I mean, I just - don't feel like I'm pressuring you or anything -"

"... uh, yes, I - what are we talking about now?"

He had a feeling he knew, and it made him feel a little cold, inside - even if he had no reason to, really.

"You asked," Martín said, "I wasn't going to say it. It's not the kind of you thing you should go around asking people, right?"

"Of course," Luciano said, feeling a little numb. He couldn't really argue with that, "Look, just so I can be sure we're... on the same page here, we - you mean you don't want me to do it, after all? Or what?"

"Don't worry," he said. He smiled, still embarrassed and still blushing and still sounding honest and earnest and all, and touched his lips again, "Your mouth is too beautiful," and he kissed him.

Luciano let him. He wondered how Martín did that, just one simple line that felt like he had just been slapped. He wasn't sure what to say now, and... he had said he had done that already, right? He was sure of it. But maybe Martín had missed it, he should try to hide it so Martín wouldn't be disgusted and refuse to kiss him ever again, and now he felt dirty, too, and he had never felt like that before. Not about this, anyway, not - recently, just... right, he had it coming, for making Martín squirm before.

"Ah - yes, I guess, but -"

How was he supposed to say this? He tried to smile.

"I'm kind of - used to it, so I don't mind? I mean, I don't mind not doing it, either. But. If you want to. It's been two years, after all, that's way too long to keep thinking about fellatio and not get it, right?"

Because he couldn't start keeping secrets now, he just wished his mouth - pretty and dirty as it was, apparently, and ugh why was he thinking that - would shut the fuck up and stop rambling because really. He was trying to act normal here.

Martín frowned, and then Luciano kissed him, and fine, it felt a little desperate, maybe, but he wanted to feel him kissing back, just to be sure. And his mouth was warm and soft and Luciano pulled him to himself, holding him close, one arm under his body and the other hand pulling his head to his shoulder, and Martín hugged him back, earnest and anxious, and see, they could work this out, because they were still here, lying side by side and he was holding him and Martín didn't mind and he didn't have to worry, see? Everything was fine, really. He was sure of it.

"I'm sorry," Martín said, licking his lips, when they pulled away to breathe, "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's fine. I'm being stupid."

"Don't say that," Martín mumbled, "I didn't mean anything by it, I just -"

"I said it's fine, really. Let's just drop it, all right?"

He said it with a smile, to sound sweet, so there. Martín glared at him for a second, then he sort of shrugged, as much as he could lying down and still caught between Luciano's arms, and raised himself over one arm so he could kiss Luciano's neck. And then he was on top of him again, and Luciano tried to breathe, and forget that this had ever happened. Whatever this had been.

… it would keep happening, wouldn't it? Little things he would say and Martín would be shocked and then he would smile and say it didn't matter but it would pile up and he would get tired of it. And Luciano would never know, because how was he supposed to guess, and... all the small things like the way he would, say, hold a glass of water or hold a pen to write, they used to laugh about it and he never really got why, but Martín did, and it would happen again and again, he would hate silly little things like how comfortable Luciano felt walking barefoot around the house and how comfortable he was having sex and the way he kissed and Luciano wouldn't know-

Come on, he was kissing his neck now. He was here.

"But then you need to tell me, what do you want me to do? I want to make it good for you."

"Whatever you want to," Martín said. Luciano could feel his mouth on the skin of his neck, and his breath, warm and slightly damp, "I think I said this already."

"I think you didn't," Luciano said. See, they were being playful again and having fun and enjoying themselves. And he was still here. Still here.

"Are you mad at me?"

… he wished Martín would stop doing that. He swallowed, and then regretted it because Martín would feel it, and - that just proved people shouldn't talk in moments like this. It was harder to hide things.

"Why would I be?"

"I don't know."

He sounded weird. Too serious. Luciano tried to hold his chin and look at his face, but Martín just pressed his face deeper into his shoulder, and Luciano was sure he would be pouting, in that weirdly endearing way of his, he could tell. So he settled for kissing his cheek, and said, "Well I'm not, don't worry."

"You say the wrong things too, sometimes, you know?"

His voice sounded muffled, because he was still hiding his face in Luciano's neck, but harsh, and sulky, too, and that made Luciano's heart skip a beat, and then Martín sat up, suddenly like that, and it didn't mean anything, it couldn't, it was too crazy even for him, he was making promises less than thirty minutes ago, he couldn't be giving up now just because Luciano was being an oversensitive idiot, Martín knew he was like that, so it couldn't be that, really, it couldn't. Luciano sat up too, and then he forced himself to smile, and sound soft and nice and harmless:

"Is there - is there anything wrong? We can wait, if you want to. I don't mind. I -"

"You don't mind?"

Hm yes that came out wrong, Luciano thought. He slid a little closer, and put his arms around his waist, and tried again:

"I mean I won't hold it against you, of course I do - I would mind, I don't - tell me what you're thinking?"

And what the fuck are you doing to me, he thought, but didn't say it, because he couldn't, and they should have waited a few days or maybe five years before even trying anything, until they were sure, but he didn't say that either. He just held him and tried to force himself to... not do it too tight, because that would be pathetic.

"That's rich, coming from you, you never tell me anything. And I can tell, your face changes, you know, and your voice and... everything, but you don't say it, and you don't want to explain it and I... I say stuff, all right? You know that. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just... "

"Say stuff," Luciano whispered. He didn't mean to. Or maybe he did. Otherwise he wouldn't have said it, right? But then he regretted it, because it made Martín stiffen and for a second he was afraid he would get up and leave, and he had looked so happy, before, so pleased and comfortable, Luciano wanted that back.

"You say the wrong things too," Martín said. It sounded dejected, now. And wrong. His voice hadn't been made to sound like that, ever.

And he had a point, Luciano had said things too. He had let his men torment him, and he only stopped them when he saw how terrified he was, and after that he said he would let them use him - not that, fuck his mouth, that was what he had said, and he could still remember Martín looking up at him with wide eyes and of course Luciano wouldn't have followed through, but that wasn't the point, was it? And Martín was being generous enough not bringing it up, and not saying anything about how cruel Luciano had been. So he couldn't really be angry, could he? It wouldn't be fair.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing his face to Martín's back. The cloth felt nice and soft, of course, his shirt was probably pretty expensive, and it had his smell, too, and Luciano tried to breathe it in. "I'm sorry, you're right. Let's talk about something nice - tell me, what do you want me to do now?"

He could feel the way Martín's breath caught, and his heart was speeding up, and what now, he had said the right things, right? Why wouldn't he let go, and -

"I don't know! Is that what you want to hear? I have - no idea, all right? No, I mean, I do, I know stuff, I just - you tell me."

Oh.

Luciano tried to ignore the relief flooding through him like waves, because - well. He shouldn't, really, but it was so good to know that Martín wasn't thinking about how dirty he was, or anything like that, that this was all in his head, that- He closed his eyes for a second, and tried not to take a deep breath because Martín would notice and get it wrong, and he was embarrassed enough as it was, the idiot, the dear, dear, so very fucking precious idiot, and he would drive him crazy, doing that, and Luciano couldn't handle this, really, it was too much for just one day.

"Martín -"

"What was I supposed to do, just go and - and find someone to have sex with to figure out what I'm supposed to say? I wanted you! Didn't you say you're good at this? So you can show me, and not... act like that every time I get something wrong. You're supposed to be the unforgettable one."

"... you'll never let me forget that, will you?

"No! Never!"

Luciano kissed his back, between his shoulder blades, and it fell over fabric but he didn't mind. Of course it would be hard for him, not knowing something, or anything, by the look of it, and - he should have noticed it, and handled it better, and - he didn't want to think. He kissed his neck again, opening his mouth to do so, leaving wet, red marks all over his skin, and making him shiver, and that was good, maybe they could forget this had ever happened.

"But I mean that," he said, "You can tell me. There isn't... you know, there isn't any... anything you want, just let me know. I want to please you. Just let me know."

Martín thought about it.

"... how?"

He knew he was going to ask. Of course.

"Any way you want to," he said, and then raised his hand to his neck, and it was so amazing that Martín didn't react to it, didn't feel even slightly threatened or anything, he just waited, and let Luciano push his head back against his shoulders so he could kiss his mouth again, slower this time, until he could feel Martín melting against him, and he still had his hand resting on his neck, and - Luciano remembered pulling his cravat, back then, and right that second he truly believed he could have killed him even if it felt impossible now, but he had, and he would apologize for that, later. One day.

"Fine," Martín said. His voice sounded breathy, and it had lost that... shamed edge it had before. "I'll remember that."

Luciano smiled. He let his hand rest on his thigh, feeling Martín's muscles tremble under his palm, and he had great legs, really. He would get to see them. Again. And - he could give him that. He really could. And they would have time to... sort it out, later. Because he was here.

"I can do it, if you want me to," Luciano whispered, "Suck you off, I mean."

He saw Martín biting his lip again, torn, but now he wanted to hear it. Wanted to hear him saying.

"I - I'd like that," he said. It sounded almost forced, like he had to force himself to say it, and then he burst out, "But - you don't mind if I don't - do it back, today?"

He could take this. He could, and he would.

"Of course not," he said, and it was nice to be whispering, so his voice wouldn't show anything he didn't want to show. He just had to focus, and it didn't hurt - not that sharp stab of pain from before, nothing like that, this... didn't mean anything, really, and he just had to keep saying it to himself until he believed it. He kept smiling, "Now, let's get you out of these clothes."

Martín smiled faintly, Luciano could see it, and he smiled back, against his neck. Martín's shoulders tensed again, just a bit, and he lifted his hands to begin to unbutton his shirt, but Luciano caught them in his own. He squeezed them gently then kissed the side of his neck again, trailing his lips up along his neck to just under his jaw.

"Let me do it," he whispered, sliding his fingers out from between Martín's, down to start unbuttoning the shirt himself. Martín's flush deepened still further, Luciano could feel it traveling down the back of his neck, the warmth staining his chest under his fingers. Luciano got the first button, then brushed his thumb against the skin of Martín's chest, feeling him shiver, just a bit, before he unbuttoned the second.

"Are you sure?" Martín asked, and his voice was low and a little husky, quieter again.

"Hmm?" Luciano asked as he unbuttoned the next button.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" he said. He was biting his lip again, Luciano could see it, and then he said, very quickly, "Because I could, if you... if you do mind, or if... if you'd like me to. I would... s -suck you off. Really."

Luciano bit back the sigh that rose in his throat. Instead he turned until his nose pushed against Martín's cheek and pressed a kiss there. "Martín, you idiot," he said, then told himself that had been the wrong thing to say. "No, no, shh," he said hurriedly. "I didn't mean that. Really. It's just... you just said you were uncomfortable with that, doing that. Just a few seconds ago. Do you really think I want you to do something you wouldn't like? That wouldn't be much fun for me, either." He took a deep breath, and blew it out, and felt the warmth of it trapped against Martín's already flushed skin. "I'm not that type of guy, you know."

"... Oh," Martín said, and now his ears were red, and really, that shouldn't be so terribly endearing, it really shouldn't. And he could feel his shoulders relax, just a bit, so... well, yes. "Right. I... right."

And Luciano suddenly thought, well, of course he thought you were like that, you taunted him with having to do just that, didn't you? He probably thinks you get off on humiliating him or something. And, God, he was ashamed of himself, so ashamed of himself he felt cold, and his skin was burning at the same time, and he... but he didn't know how to make Martín see that. He didn't know what to say. Look, I just threatened you because you ruined my life? I threatened to let my crew rape you because you ruined my life. I threatened to rape you because...

It didn't work. Just... no. He'd just have to show him, that was all. Show him that he wasn't like that.

He moved his fingers to the next button, and said, in a tone he hoped was light like he wanted it to be, "This is a pretty nice shirt, you weren't kidding."

He felt, or maybe heard, Martín smile. "I had to impress you somehow," he said, and his tone was just as light and teasing, and that was a relief.

It had still been a strange thing to say. Luciano would have thought that Martín would think that even his most casual clothes would be enough to impress Luciano of all people. So Martín had been trying to look nice for him? That was... well, that was... that was sweet. But he might just have been teasing, so before he thought Luciano found himself asking, "Really?" as he unbuttoned more of Martín's shirt.

"Yes, of course, really," Martín said, and he sounded teasing, but not in a way that suggested that what he was saying wasn't true. At all, because that sounded... serious. Like he meant it, anyway.

Luciano thought about saying, Well, it worked, but that made his cheeks burn and he just couldn't. Because it wasn't like Martín had ever had to make a big effort in that department, anyway, which was... embarrassing, that was all. Embarrassing. "Hmm, that's nice of you," he said instead.

And Martín laughed, just a little, and said, "Like I told you, I decided to be nice." So Luciano turned and kissed him, just a little kiss on the mouth, as he quickly unbuttoned the rest of Martín's buttons, tugging the shirt all the way out of his trousers.

"You did that without looking," Martín said after a moment, after Luciano pulled away. He blinked.

Luciano grinned at him. "It's not that hard," he said, curling his arms around Martín's stomach, holding him close. "I have to do them up in the morning before coffee, right? I had to figure it out somehow."

Martín laughed at that, and something in his body relaxed. He leaned backward and let his forehead rest against Luciano's neck, and Luciano smiled. It was so nice to have Martín here, relaxed, in his arms, warm against him. He still couldn't quite believe it. He had stopped laughing, but he was still grinning, and he looked... happy again, which was... which was good. Luciano sighed and let his face rest against Martín's neck, just for a moment. He could feel the pulse there, just beneath the skin.

"Luciano?" Martín asked after a moment. Luciano could feel him shift against his arms, then Martín's hand against his cheek.

He took a deep breath, then raised his head and smiled, pressing a kiss against Martín's palm. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Martín said. "Look, are you going to get these clothes off me, or what?"

"Oh, off," Luciano said, with a playful kiss to his cheek. "Definitely off." He pulled Martín's shirt back off his arms, bending to kiss his shoulder again as he did, then tossed the shirt over the chair by his desk. "Here," he said, his mouth next to Martín's ear again. "How about we lie back down?"

"Mmm," Martín said, and he was biting his lip again. His cheeks were very flushed. "Ah. Yes. Okay." Luciano let him go and turned to watch him as he scooted back and laid down, his head against the pillow. If he'd imagined this, happening, ever, which, okay, maybe he had, once, or twice, or... something, but that wasn't the point, all right, but if he had, Martín would have been sure of himself, totally confident, looked him in the eye, all of it, like he owned Luciano's bed himself, instead of awkward, blushing practically down to his waist, not meeting Luciano's gaze.

His hair was tousled, falling into his eyes, and he shifted uneasily as Luciano looked at him. So Luciano leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, then his mouth, ran his hand up Martín's chest - his skin was so warm, it still amazed him, how warm it got when he blushed. He kissed him again, until he could feel his mouth open, relax, under his, and brought his hand up further, caressing Martín's chest until he could drag his thumb over Martín's nipple, running it over the flat circle of sensitive skin before flicking it, gently.

Martín made a small, soft sound against Luciano's mouth, and Luciano pulled back from the kiss to see that his eyes were wide, but when he made the movement with his thumb again, Martín's lashes fluttered and his breath sped up even as the already high color in his face rose. He looked a bit dazed. Luciano brought his thumb up to his mouth and licked the pad of it, then his first finger, before returning them to brush over Martín's nipple again. Martín made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, and his head shifted against the pillow, so Luciano leaned down and kissed the other nipple, letting his tongue flick over it. Martín groaned and threw his head back.

Luciano let his mouth drift across Martín's chest, up to the dip in the fine, strong bones of his collarbone where he could feel his pulse thundering, still brushing his thumb around and around Martín's other nipple, until he kissed his working throat. "Is that all right?" he asked. He couldn't quite keep himself from smiling.

"Y-yes!" Martín yelped. He sounded breathless, and his eyes had widened again, Luciano saw them when he raised his head from Martín's neck. "I - I just - I didn't know... that - that felt. Like that," he said. His chest heaved.

"But it's good, right?" Luciano prompted. He wasn't sure why he was being so insistent, but there was something in Martín's face - he didn't want to press him, he just wanted to be sure.

Martín nodded, bit his lip, and then whispered, "Yes."

The look on his face was making Luciano want to say something crazy, like, it's all right to feel good, Martín, or, just let go, I've got you, but... but that was crazy, so he just kissed the tip of Martín's nose, because he'd done it to him, and ran his thumb around Martín's nipple again, pressing a bit harder this time until Martín's breath shuddered in his throat, before he brought his hands down to unfasten the front of Martín's trousers. And he remembered doing this, before, and the memories were so strong he could barely breathe, it felt like, especially when he patted Martín's hip, gently, and Martín gave a sharp intake of breath and squeezed his eyes shut but pushed his hips upward enough that Luciano could pull his trousers and small clothes off and toss them over to the chair with his shirt, and then he was naked in front of him. All over again.

It was strangely like what Luciano remembered from his ship, but different. Different in that Martín was blushing rather than sunburned, that there was a trembling but not frightened tension in his body instead of the limp, helpless lassitude of illness and the sick undercurrent of fear, different in that this time Martín was aroused and at least half hard when Luciano doubted he could have gotten it up on the ship for a beautiful girl writhing naked in his lap - or even if Luciano had writhed like a naked - and what the Christ was wrong with him, thinking things like that, his mind, God - different even in that there was a thin white scar on Martín's side that hadn't been there the last time he'd - he'd seen him naked.

And then there were their surroundings - the smells of the country from outside, the scent of coffee that permeated everything, the familiar surroundings of his bed - the shapeless pillow he'd never bothered to replace, the coverlet and sheets, soft from many washings, and yet Martín's body was just the same, maybe a little more muscular (what had he been doing with himself, anyway?), but the same, and just as beautiful, just as unfairly, incredibly beautiful, from the tousled gold of his hair to his strong chest and flat stomach and his really, really great legs to his bare feet, and - Martín still had his eyes closed, so Luciano leaned up and tapped his cheek, gently, and said, "Martín? Remember where we are?"

"This isn't fair," Martín muttered, but his eyes opened again, and he took a deep breath. "I'm the one who - who's practically a virgin here, compared to you, apparently, and you've already seen everything I - I've got, and you've still got all your clothes on. It's not fair."

Luciano blinked, surprised. That was... well, that was true, wasn't it? This was the second time he'd seen Martín naked, but he'd never taken off his clothes for Martín in return.

He wished he hadn't thought that. Now he was blushing himself, and - Martín was so beautiful, and Luciano was so - well, he wasn't bad, but - he needed to stop thinking about that. Right. "It's all better for seeing it the second time, believe me," he finally got out, and okay, his voice sounded a little hoarse, and a little thick. Embarrassing. He needed to get a hold on himself.

At least he wasn't the only one blushing. Martín really did get happy at compliments, didn't he? He hadn't smiled, exactly, but his face was practically glowing. "Is it?" he asked, and there was the smile. Good. It was nice to see it. Luciano reached down to touch it, trace it with his finger. "You have such a gorgeous smile," he said before he thought.

"I do?" Martín said, and he was smiling even more widely now, and it was... it wasn't even really smug, it was just happy, and Luciano had it bad, obviously, he did, he was in trouble, because all he wanted right then was to make him smile like that, again and again, perfectly happy and touched and... all of it.

"Hmm," he said. "Yeah. You do."

Martín smiled up at him. "So do you," he said, and when Luciano could feel his cheeks flood with heat, he said, "Right, I know you don't want me to say it, but I don't know why. It's true. You're beautiful yourself."

It wasn't that he hadn't liked it, Luciano thought, but it was true, now his throat felt tight, and he could feel the back of his neck prickle, like he was pretending to be something he wasn't, and any minute he'd get caught. Pretending to be the master's son, a voice said in the back of his head, and he couldn't figure out if it sounded like the old overseer (even though he was dead now, of that same fever that had -) or the voice of one of the other boys he'd used to play with but...

He bit the inside of his lip, hard, until he could taste blood, because he wasn't going to think that, not now, he just wasn't, and looked down, purposefully following the line of Martín's body with his eyes, and Martín shifted a bit, uncomfortably, but didn't move to cover himself. Proud, Luciano thought again. And brave, considering how nervous he'd been - and he still was, Luciano could tell - to lie there naked and vulnerable and let Luciano just look at him like this had to be an effort.

The blush went all the way down, really. It even stretched down far enough to color his thighs.

"Okay, then," he said, and he pushed himself upward, off the bed, until he was standing beside it. He grinned at Martín, and it felt surprisingly unforced, surprisingly natural, surprisingly real. "Then it's only fair, right?" His face felt warm, but he tried to ignore it as he tugged his shirt up out of his trousers, then started on the first button.

Martín pushed himself up onto his elbows, then sat up. Luciano could feel his eyes on him. His fingers fumbled over the buttons, but he didn't let himself stop. It was only fair, like he'd said, after all.

The buttons of his shirt seemed to take an incredibly long time to undo. He really hadn't remembered there being this many of them. He finally got them all undone and shrugged out of his shirt, then turn to add it to the pile of Martín's clothes over his chair.

When he turned back around, Martín was smiling. He could feel his face warm a little bit more at the look on his face. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

"Turn around again," Martín said.

"Um," Luciano said. "What?"

"I'm enjoying the view," Martín said. "I know you still have your trousers on, but..." he shrugged. "I can ask again later, right?"

Luciano shook his head at him. The skin of his face felt very hot. This was already uncomfortable enough without Martín having to point out that Luciano was taking his clothes off in front of him. Even though he was. That wasn't the point. "I'll turn around again in a second," he muttered, and started on the fastenings to his trousers. He managed to tug them off, and his smallclothes, and add them to the pile on the chair, without really thinking about what he was doing, but as soon as he turned back around and met Martín's eyes it struck him that he was standing naked in front of him, in his own room, of all places. It felt very surreal, somehow, like it was something that couldn't really be happening. Luciano put his hands behind his back so Martín wouldn't be able to see him pinch the inside of his own wrist - but it did hurt, so this wasn't some kind of freakish dream, anyway.

Martín looked at him for a moment, and then he licked his bottom lip, and it was such a small, unconscious gesture of desire that Luciano felt heat flood to his groin. Martín tilted his head to the side, blushing, and managed to look somehow proud, almost regal, while he was doing it, then held out his hand. Luciano stepped forward and took it, then remembered, suddenly, Martín kissing his hand, in the alley, in the carriage, and captured Martín's hand in both of his to bring it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to it, to Martín's knuckles, another to the back of his hand, then to his palm, but he couldn't meet his eyes while he was doing it.

Martín let his breath out, a small, quiet sigh, and then his other hand was around Luciano's waist, tugging him closer. "You said I could do whatever I wanted," Martín said, and he ran his hand up along the curve of Luciano's back, his fingers brushing against Luciano's spine.

Luciano nodded. "You can," he murmured. He didn't trust his voice any louder than that. Martín's hand on his back made his skin burn wherever he touched, and he could feel himself trembling, just a little. He couldn't stop thinking that it was Martín he was standing naked in front of, Martín's hand stroking the bare skin of his back, caressing, really, and - just the idea that Martín wanted to caress him like that, that he was exploring the planes of Luciano's back with his hand... Luciano could feel warmth crawling up the back of his neck now.

Martín's palm slid down over his spine and curled close just at the hollow of it, and Luciano couldn't help it, he shivered.

Martín tugged his hand out of Luciano's loosening grip, and then both his arms were around Luciano, tugging him close so he could press his face against his chest. He was holding him so tightly - both arms tight at his back, and then he turned to press a kiss to Luciano's chest. The feeling of Martín's lips against his skin made Luciano's breath hitch in his throat, and then he pressed another kiss there, and another, before sliding his hands up to curl around Luciano's shoulders and shifting upward to kiss him on the mouth.

It was a bright, hot, furious kiss, searing in its intensity, and Luciano gasped in surprise as Martín leaned into it, into him, tugged his head down further into the kiss, both his hands fisting in Luciano's hair, not so hard it hurt, but hard enough to tug. He couldn't seem to breathe; he gasped, and then Martín's tongue was in his mouth, and he thought he was kissing back but he couldn't be sure, it was just so much, all at once, sensation, feeling, all of it - he'd never felt like this, so overwhelmed, almost like he was drowning, just from a kiss before, but it was Martín, and he was kissing him like - like - Luciano could feel his knees folding, turning into water, and he somehow had enough presence of mind to push Martín back a bit further onto the bed so he could brace himself against it, his hands on either side of Martín's chest.

Martín curled his fingers further into his hair and pulled Luciano against him, and Luciano couldn't keep his balance. He tipped forward and ended up on Martín's chest, both of them flat against the bed and breathless. Luciano was panting, he could hear his own breaths echoing, heavy and almost too fast, in his ears.

Martín grinned, laughing in a way that was... just happy, really, not like he was laughing at Luciano at all. Luciano couldn't seem to get his breath. It was too much - Martín was too beautiful, happy and laughing like that, and he was happy because he was here with Luciano, and all the sensations - his naked skin was pressed against Martín's for almost their whole bodies, and it was so warm, and - and real, and it was - all too much. He just - he couldn't seem to - he dropped his head to rest against Martín's chest, and he could hear the rhythm of his heart and for a second that was all he could do. Lie there and listen to Martín's heart pounding and try to remember how to breathe.

tbc...