Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED

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Two Ways About It [20/27]

[anonymous]

“You always complain,” Spain said, and he nipped Romano’s earlobe sharply.

“Stop giving me things to complain about.” Romano’s voice was a whisper, and there was no feeling behind his words. He didn’t have anything to complain about. He felt better than he ever had in his life. Spain laughed, because of course he must’ve known that; maybe he couldn’t ever read the atmosphere or a situation or even most people, but at this point he could sure as hell see through Romano’s lies.

Then, all at once, Romano no longer felt better than he ever had in his life. It took him a dazed moment to realize it was because Spain’s hand was no longer in his pants. He was about to complain - not whine - when Spain pushed himself back, shoved Romano’s legs apart, and dropped to his knees between them. Romano was slouched badly in the chair, and it startled him so much he instinctively tried to sit up. Spain’s arms were draped over his thighs, though, and that made doing so impossible.

So he just started at Spain, wide-eyed, and Spain didn’t move for a few seconds. He looked Romano over slowly, like he was trying to memorize his body - or at least what was exposed of it. It wasn’t altogether that much, and Spain had already seen Romano shirtless plenty of times, but for some reason now it made Romano distinctly self-conscious.

Must’ve been because before he hadn’t been overtly concerned with making Spain think he was attractive. Especially at this particular moment, when Spain was sitting there on his knees with his hair mussed and his green eyes darkened, in what was left of his very rumpled tuxedo, and just looking at him made Romano’s cock ache.

He still managed to stare fairly evenly at Spain, though, pursing his lips to indicate that he was waiting. Spain gave him another one of those unfamiliar, infuriatingly attractive dark smiles before grabbing hold of the waistband of Romano’s pants and boxers and pulling them down so quickly that he managed to get them over Romano’s hips without pulling him off the chair. And if Romano had been self-conscious before, he was fully embarrassed now, because he didn’t really feel inadequate but he was still being scrutinized down there for the first time. “Geez, you’re just blushing all over,” Spain commented.

Romano narrowed his eyes as he felt his ears burning and hated himself for the fact that he was grateful that Spain hadn’t made any kind of tomato comment. “It’s not fair. You haven’t taken any of your clothes off and I-ohmyGod!”

Blasphemy, now. He was a terrible Catholic. But, he thought, everyone had to be a terrible Catholic once in a while, and when you found yourself with your dick in someone’s mouth, that was probably one of those times. Spain had given him no warning - unless you counted getting on your knees in front of someone and pulling their pants down warning - before he had one hand wrapped tightly around the lower half of Romano’s erection and the rest of it enveloped in what was suddenly Romano’s favorite part of Spain’s anatomy.

Romano’s finger’s dug painfully into the arms of the chair, and when Spain swallowed a few times around him, it was only the weight of the arms draped over his thighs that kept him from thrusting up into his mouth. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut because his body had just pulled painfully taut and watching Spain while he worked just made it ten times more difficult to keep any of his wits about him at all.

Then Spain pulled away, and Romano cracked his eyes open to see what the hell had suddenly become more important than his cock. It was nothing, apparently. Spain was just smirking at him, and just before Romano could ask why he was no longer doing anything productive, he trailed his fingertips up the topside of Romano’s erection, mirroring the motion with the tip of his tongue underneath. He didn’t break eye contact, and Romano found himself having to work to suck in a breath and fill his unexpectedly empty lungs.