Re: Communication is Key [4]
anonymous
April 27 2009, 23:21:16 UTC
“We do talk, you jackass -”
“But not about this,” Antonio counters, gesturing to the bed, the two of them.
“Wh-what’s there to talk about?! It’s just sex!”
Antonio feels irritation flicker over his face. “Yeah, but you’re doing it in a way that’s hurting you,” Antonio says, straddling Lovino and pinning his legs down with his weight.
“So what?”
“Lovino.” Antonio thinks he must look angrier than he feels, because Lovino’s glare softens into something like fear. “Lovino, please. Let me show you how good this can be.”
Lovino doesn’t respond, turning his face away as his cheeks flush pink. Antonio frowns, concerned and thoughtful.
“Lovino….”
Lovino mutters something into his bicep.
“Lovino?”
“I said just do it then!” Lovino snaps, turning back to glare at Antonio. “Go ahead and fuck me, show me how it’s done!”
Antonio blinks. “Lovino….”
But Lovino’s eyelids squeeze shut, his teeth clench; he’s an impenetrable fortress, and Antonio knows from experience that he won’t be able to reach Lovino now. So he bends his head and kisses Lovino’s mouth. There’s an immediate difference; that mouth becomes rigid, tense, so different from their earlier one.
Antonio kisses across one cheek, feeling jaw muscles twitch and quiver; he kisses the skin below Lovino’s ear, tonguing the skin that’s still soft and tender. Lovino swears; Antonio takes this as a good sign.
He trails kisses down Lovino’s neck, fingers brushing feather-light against that skin. He feels growing warmth, perhaps a bit of moisture from sweat. He tongues the dip beneath Lovino’s Adam’s apple, smothers it with quick kisses as he feels how Lovino tenses and swears beneath him.
“Lovi,” he whispers.
Lovino doesn’t respond to him, but he hears a thread-thin whisper and realizes Lovino’s saying something - probably more swears. That’s good. Maybe he’s starting to enjoy this.
Antonio’s fingers go back to Lovino’s shirt, undo the last three buttons. They part easily under his hands, and he spreads the shirt, his palms flat against Lovino’s stomach.
He stops moving when he realizes that Lovino’s trembling - slightly, ever so slightly, but his body’s shaking.
“Lovi?”
“…rimetti….”
Antonio frowns. Something feels off. He stalks back up Lovino’s body. “Lovi, are you okay -”
“- rimetti a noi i nostri debiti, come noi li rimettiamo ai nostri debitori -”
It takes a moment for Antonio to process the words, but his eyes widen when his mind translates them.
Lovino’s not swearing. He’s praying.
And the look of agony on his face tells Antonio that maybe he fucked up.
“Lovino,” he whispers, reaching a hand up to tilt Lovino’s face towards his. “It’s okay. Shh.”
The Our Father stutters, then grinds to a halt; Lovino’s eyes flutter open, and Antonio’s heart nearly breaks when he thinks he sees tears in them, though it’s hard to tell in the waning light.
“No,” Lovino whispers, and just the sound of his voice is pained and sad. “No, it’s not. It’s dirty and sinful and wrong.”
…Oh.
Oh. God.
Antonio feels his heart twist and tear in two.
“I…oh, Lovi, is that what this is all about?”
Lovino refuses to meet his eyes; Antonio feels something like tenderness well up inside of him, and he cups Lovino’s face into the crook of his neck and whispers shushed, soothing nothing into his ear.
“I’m weak,” Lovino whispers, his voice sharp and jagged at the edges. “I’m weak, and it’s your damn fault, you bastard.”
“Shh. You’re all right, Lovi. You’re safe with me.”
“No I’m not.”
Lovino shifts his hips up, and Antonio gasps as something hard rubs against his thigh. He pulls back to look at Lovino, to meet those angry, sad eyes.
“That’s what you do to me,” he murmurs, his words gaining force again. “That’s what I want from you. And it’s wrong. I’m supposed to be chaste.”
And Antonio understands the rest in a sickening rush. He understands the actions - all of them, the tight-lipped silence, the way he prepared himself, the speed with which it was all over and done. He understands.
“But not about this,” Antonio counters, gesturing to the bed, the two of them.
“Wh-what’s there to talk about?! It’s just sex!”
Antonio feels irritation flicker over his face. “Yeah, but you’re doing it in a way that’s hurting you,” Antonio says, straddling Lovino and pinning his legs down with his weight.
“So what?”
“Lovino.” Antonio thinks he must look angrier than he feels, because Lovino’s glare softens into something like fear. “Lovino, please. Let me show you how good this can be.”
Lovino doesn’t respond, turning his face away as his cheeks flush pink. Antonio frowns, concerned and thoughtful.
“Lovino….”
Lovino mutters something into his bicep.
“Lovino?”
“I said just do it then!” Lovino snaps, turning back to glare at Antonio. “Go ahead and fuck me, show me how it’s done!”
Antonio blinks. “Lovino….”
But Lovino’s eyelids squeeze shut, his teeth clench; he’s an impenetrable fortress, and Antonio knows from experience that he won’t be able to reach Lovino now. So he bends his head and kisses Lovino’s mouth. There’s an immediate difference; that mouth becomes rigid, tense, so different from their earlier one.
Antonio kisses across one cheek, feeling jaw muscles twitch and quiver; he kisses the skin below Lovino’s ear, tonguing the skin that’s still soft and tender. Lovino swears; Antonio takes this as a good sign.
He trails kisses down Lovino’s neck, fingers brushing feather-light against that skin. He feels growing warmth, perhaps a bit of moisture from sweat. He tongues the dip beneath Lovino’s Adam’s apple, smothers it with quick kisses as he feels how Lovino tenses and swears beneath him.
“Lovi,” he whispers.
Lovino doesn’t respond to him, but he hears a thread-thin whisper and realizes Lovino’s saying something - probably more swears. That’s good. Maybe he’s starting to enjoy this.
Antonio’s fingers go back to Lovino’s shirt, undo the last three buttons. They part easily under his hands, and he spreads the shirt, his palms flat against Lovino’s stomach.
He stops moving when he realizes that Lovino’s trembling - slightly, ever so slightly, but his body’s shaking.
“Lovi?”
“…rimetti….”
Antonio frowns. Something feels off. He stalks back up Lovino’s body. “Lovi, are you okay -”
“- rimetti a noi i nostri debiti, come noi li rimettiamo ai nostri debitori -”
It takes a moment for Antonio to process the words, but his eyes widen when his mind translates them.
Lovino’s not swearing. He’s praying.
And the look of agony on his face tells Antonio that maybe he fucked up.
“Lovino,” he whispers, reaching a hand up to tilt Lovino’s face towards his. “It’s okay. Shh.”
The Our Father stutters, then grinds to a halt; Lovino’s eyes flutter open, and Antonio’s heart nearly breaks when he thinks he sees tears in them, though it’s hard to tell in the waning light.
“No,” Lovino whispers, and just the sound of his voice is pained and sad. “No, it’s not. It’s dirty and sinful and wrong.”
…Oh.
Oh. God.
Antonio feels his heart twist and tear in two.
“I…oh, Lovi, is that what this is all about?”
Lovino refuses to meet his eyes; Antonio feels something like tenderness well up inside of him, and he cups Lovino’s face into the crook of his neck and whispers shushed, soothing nothing into his ear.
“I’m weak,” Lovino whispers, his voice sharp and jagged at the edges. “I’m weak, and it’s your damn fault, you bastard.”
“Shh. You’re all right, Lovi. You’re safe with me.”
“No I’m not.”
Lovino shifts his hips up, and Antonio gasps as something hard rubs against his thigh. He pulls back to look at Lovino, to meet those angry, sad eyes.
“That’s what you do to me,” he murmurs, his words gaining force again. “That’s what I want from you. And it’s wrong. I’m supposed to be chaste.”
And Antonio understands the rest in a sickening rush. He understands the actions - all of them, the tight-lipped silence, the way he prepared himself, the speed with which it was all over and done. He understands.
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Also. This anon would die to know how Francis got Arthur to 'shut up and enjoy it'. In detail. :D *feels so perverted, omg*
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