"Be Mean." (Måneskin RPF) R
Title: Be Mean. (On Archive Of Our Own)
Author:
lannamichaels
Fandom: Måneskin RPF
Series: Tentacle Damiano
Pairing: Damiano David/Ethan Torchio
Rating: R
A/N: With apologies to Once In A Lifetime by The Talking Heads for the summary.
Summary: And you may find yourself spanking a large tentacle monster. And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?
Damiano's never ugly, but the geometry of him in this form takes some getting used to. Below his hips, he's a giant tangle of squirming, slithering tentacles. The band's gotten drunk a few times and tried to count them, but Damiano kept helpfully manifesting more and more tentacles to entertain them, so they'd never gotten very far. Today, the tentacles are iridescent and shining to match Damiano's pearl necklace, and Ethan would just appreciate it if he could paint Damiano's fingernails in peace without twenty smooth prehensile tentacles trying to pick his pocket and play games on his phone.
"Stop that, your nails need to dry," Ethan tells him, and gets flipped off by at least fifty tentacles at once. Ethan may only have two hands, but he can use them to swat Damiano away and so he does. It doesn't really work. It never does.
It's a problem when your bandmate-slash-friend-slash-boyfriend's bottom half can take up half a room if and when he wants to, and a lot of the time, he wants to. Damiano likes to stretch out. It's a tripping hazard, even when he makes himself go fluorescent yellow. Ethan sometimes misses the time before Damiano's last adult growth spurt. Things were a lot easier in many ways when they were still all in school. But then X-Factor happened and, well, here they are.
"My nails are drying," Damiano says, waving his hands in the air demonstrably, as if to say, look, here are my hands, my hands aren't touching anything, and oh, those tentacles? That's got nothing to do with my hands. And meanwhile Damiano's tentacles are sorting through the topcoat options on the side table.
"Uh-huh," Ethan says. "If you ruin it, you're the one fixing it."
"That's fair," Damiano says, like he wouldn't just pout at Ethan until Ethan caved.
"I mean it," Ethan says half-heartedly. He settles down on the floor next to Damiano, who begins to aggressively cuddle him with a whole nest of tentacles. Damiano gives the best hugs when he's like this.
"You should spank me so I know you mean it," Damiano says.
Hmm. Ethan's not opposed, but... "You'll need to change first."
"Nope," Damiano says, squirming all around him to make his point. "Do it like this. Come on, it's not like I can't feel it."
Oh, he'll definitely be able to feel it. It'll be different, but Damiano isn't less sensitive like this, it's only that there's so much more of him, so it's less concentrated. "Okay, but keep your hands on the floor," Ethan orders. "Spread your fingers. We're not messing up your nails."
"Yes, Ethan," Damiano says obediently. He shifts himself around so he's lying fully across the floor, his hands out in front of him pressed flat, fingers spread. The rest of him flows into position across Ethan's lap.
The thing is, it's not like Ethan hasn't hit Damiano's tentacles before. Ethan knows it's nothing like a normal spanking. Damiano can take a lot of damage in any form, but his tentacles... they're not really real. They're not like a body, or, well, not a physical one like Ethan has. Damiano can rearrange his own mass. He has as many tentacles as he wants to have, and when he doesn't want them anymore, he doesn't have them. The three of them have tied him up in knots before and then Damiano changes back and forth and all their hard work vanishes with it. There's no persistence. Damiano only keeps his leg tattoos between changes because he spent six months figuring out how to do that. It means that Ethan could pretty much do anything at all to Damiano's bottom half in this form and experience no consequences at all. It's not like Damiano would be too sensitive to sit down in an interview tomorrow. It's not like Ethan can watch the bruises heal. It's not like this is anything but a little bit of fun, easily done and just as easily gone.
Sometimes that's really convenient. Sometimes, like today, it leaves him feeling a little annoyed. Damiano wants Ethan to spank him, but it'll only be a bit of fun. It won't last.
But if he wants to mark Damiano, well, he's going to finish the manicure when they're done with this, and that's another kind of marking. Damiano is going to show off how pretty Ethan made him, and if Damiano can't show off how well Ethan spanked him, that's going to be fine. That's something just for the two of them.
"I'm going to be a little mean to you, okay?" Ethan asks.
"Yeah, of course," Damiano says and invitingly bunches up several of his tentacles across Ethan's lap. One of them even pushes greedily at Ethan's hand, as if to straighten out his fingers and get this party started.
Admittedly, it had taken Ethan a few months at the beginning to get used to touching Damiano like this. You get used to a certain way of touching a person and then everything about them shifts. The temperature is a little too cool, the surface is too smooth, the movement patterns are too weird. But once he'd gotten the hang of it, there'd been no looking back.
Which is why Ethan doesn't have any qualms about grabbing the tentacle that's trying to wrap itself around his wrist and giving it the sharpest tug he can manage. It may be made of ephemera and magic or whatever, but it's still attached to Damiano's body, and it's still going to hurt.
"Pain scale?" Ethan asks, because if he really freaked out Damiano, all of his tentacles would be trying to get away from Ethan, and one of them just slipped up the back of Ethan's shirt and has started rubbing lovingly against his spine so, no, Ethan doesn't think that was too much. But it's still good to check in, especially since there wasn't any warm-up, just the warning.
"Be meaner," Damiano says and rolls himself even more onto Ethan's lap.
"Not what I asked," Ethan says. "Give me a range."
Damiano gives a full-body sigh, as if making him self-assess is the meanest thing Ethan could possibly do to him. "That was somewhere in the middle?" Damiano estimates. "More than stubbing a toe, less than the time with the suitcase."
Okay, Ethan can work with that. Ethan gives the tentacles across his lap a few solid strikes and watches the colors ripple across them, going from a dark green to a deep burnt orange before fading back to the pearl white that Damiano had chosen for today. The tentacles give a lot when pushed and Ethan has to pull the fifth strike so he doesn't hit himself in the leg by accident.
"Can you firm up?" Ethan asks and immediately regrets it, because Damiano snickers and then abruptly doubles in size. "Okay, not that much, not that much. You're going to crush me."
Damiano obligingly shrinks back down, but curls at least thirty tentacles together on top of each other to provide a better cushion. Ethan's hand still goes at least an inch into the tangled mess with each strike and it feels like he's doing nothing. He's just going to tire out his arm pointlessly and then neither of them will get what they want.
"This is impossible," Ethan says. "You're too squirmy. Let me up, I'm getting my brush." Damiano pushes himself up onto his elbows and is about to move his hands, Ethan can tell, so Ethan swats him. "Wrong end of you," Ethan says.
"No, I wanted to give you-- hang on," Damiano says and his body twitches in a way that actually does look painful.
"No, tell me what to get and I'll get it, don't hurt yourself," Ethan says.
Damiano points with his chin. "My lyrics notebook. Use that."
It's not a bad idea. It's small enough that Ethan can hold it securely, and while it'll flop a little, it'll still be a good, solid impact. "Okay, let me up so I can get that."
Damiano shifts his tentacles just enough so that Ethan can get out from beneath them, and also pulls out the ones that he'd snaked beneath Ethan's clothes. Still... "if you don't move a little more, I'm going to step on you," Ethan says.
Damiano makes himself even more of a mess on the floor. It's somewhere between an invitation and a demand. "I wish I were wearing high heels for this," Ethan mutters to himself and gingerly walks on top of Damiano.
For some reason, Damiano thinks this is sexy. Ethan always thinks he's going to fall down. At least if he had stilettos, he'd know that Damiano felt his pain. Plus, he'd feel like a proper porn star, stepping on a tentacle monster in appropriate footwear, and not just a drummer trying not to slip. He really doesn't get the appeal of this for Damiano.
Ethan retrieves Damiano's lyrics notebook from the corner table, leaving the pen next to it alone. "Do you want your water bottle?" he asks Damiano, since he's already up.
"Yeah, why not," Damiano says, so Ethan brings it back, too, and puts it in front of Damiano, where he can reach without straining himself.
Ethan sits back down again, stretching his legs out in front of him, and lets Damiano flow back into place. Ethan makes a few experimental swings in the air with the notebook, seeing how much it wobbles, and then applies it directly to the mound of tentacles that Damiano has piled invitingly on Ethan's lap.
The impact sounds pretty cool, actually. Ethan will have to see if they can record it in the studio for a song sometime. They'd never be able to recreate it live, but just being able to say they had this in the background of one of their songs would be something to brag about for the rest of their lives, to say they got this sound right here by spanking their bandmate.
Damiano happily flushes all the colors of the rainbow, radiating out from the point of impact. Ethan starts mapping out some zones, watching the colors spread and merge, feeling the way Damiano shifts when Ethan gets him in a way he didn't expect. Damiano's giving off breathy little moans, only happy sounds, so Ethan starts putting all his force into it.
It might hurt Ethan's arm more than it hurts Damiano, but it does get him a high-pitched shriek when he manages to get between two clusters and get both of them at once. Damiano didn't expect that and the colors start coiling together as his tentacles shift to protect himself. Ethan isn't worried. Long before it would be dangerous, Damiano remembers himself and what they're doing. As quickly as it started, it stops. Damiano shakes himself out and Ethan can move again. When someone with tentacles decides it's time to constrict, and you're sitting literally in the middle of them, the only thing to do is stay still and hope they remember you need to breathe. Damiano's always very good about that part of it.
"Sorry, sorry, keep going," Damiano says. He pets Ethan's hair in apology.
Ethan's seen tips online to ask people for colors when you're hitting them, to see where they are compared to a traffic light. He'd tried it with Damiano once when spanking him normally, but Damiano had just looked over his shoulder and said, "I think I'm supposed to be red right now?", so it hadn't worked. Right now, Damiano is every shade from bright red to deep indigo. Ethan decides it's time for target practice. He's going to hit the rainbow in order and see how long it takes Damiano to catch on.
Damiano does not catch on.
Ethan takes a break to switch hands and he strokes along the quivering tangle of tentacles pressing into his legs. Damiano's being very good; for all that he's all over Ethan, he's kept his tentacles out of Ethan's shorts. That hasn't stopped Damiano from rubbing against Ethan's cock through the fabric, though, and Ethan has opinions about that.
Ethan checks; Damiano hasn't moved his hands. Good.
Ethan picks out two mid-sized tentacles, one of them blue and the other a bright orange. He twirls the orange one around his wrist and then twines the blue one around it. Ethan gives an exploratory tug and Damiano holds onto him, but looks back at Ethan like this is a weird thing to be doing when Ethan's supposed to be spanking him.
"Just these two," Ethan orders, and then maneuvers his hand down the front of his shorts. Damiano gets the idea very quickly and the tentacles detach themselves from Ethan's wrist to start stroking his cock instead. Ethan leans back onto his arms and closes his eyes for a long moment, breathing out through his mouth, and just reveling in it. Damiano is mostly a blanket on top of him, but the two tentacles Ethan picked out are the right size exactly to rub his cock exactly the way he likes it. The glide of them against his cock, the alien but oh so familiar sensations, and how much Damiano so wants to make him feel good. Ethan's not going to let Damiano make him come like this, but... just a little. Just for this.
Besides, his arms need a break anyway.
Maybe just a little longer.
"All right," Ethan says reluctantly. "Stop now."
"Please?" Damiano asks.
"You can vanish them or I can yank them out, but that's your choice," Ethan says. The tentacles go still against Ethan's thigh, carefully touching nothing, an invitation to pull as much as he wants without Ethan hurting himself in the process. Ethan grabs the tendrils outside his shorts and twists his hand through them until they wrap around his palm for a better grip. Then he pulls sharply towards himself, away from Damiano's body. Damiano screams again, but doesn't constrict or retreat, just shakes hard on top of Ethan.
Ethan thinks Damiano might have teared up.
"Ethan, please," Damiano begs.
"Again?" Ethan asks, because Damiano could make these tentacles vanish at any time and yet Ethan still has a very firm grip.
"Please."
The tentacles have faded back to pearl white, as if Damiano can't hold both this form and the colors. Ethan chooses to take this as a challenge. He braces with his free arm and pulls so hard, he's going to need to stretch out his hand later. But it works; Damiano instinctively restricts his form, leaving less than thirty tentacles where there'd been at least three hundred. Damiano's cursing up a storm and definitely, definitely crying.
He's also moved his hands. It's good for him that the nail polish must have dried enough by now to not be an issue.
"Drink your water," Ethan orders him and Damiano shakily obeys. Damiano even picks up and puts down the bottle with his hands. Ethan thinks Damiano is going to send a thank-you card to Ethan's personal trainer.
"Do you need more time?" Ethan asks. "I'm not done spanking you."
Damiano takes a deep breath. "It's good pain but-- I think I need a minute, yeah," which, coming from him... Ethan rubs the tentacles over his lap. They ripple in soft pinks and reds from the point of contact. They feel tight and tense, but not unhappy.
"You're doing great," Ethan tells him. "I'm just mean today."
"I love mean," Damiano protests.
"Are you very sore?" Ethan asks. "Give me your scale again, okay?"
"This is about the same as the time with the suitcase," Damiano admits, which, to be fair, was Damiano's fault but also all of theirs. It had been Damiano's idea to see how much weight he could lift. It had been the rest of them who hadn't realized how Damiano's balance worked in this form. And then there had been the snow. Sometimes you have to call something a learning experience and sometimes you also get to call it a high point on a pain scale. "But it's fading quickly," Damiano adds. "I'll be fine in a minute."
"Okay," Ethan says. "Have you picked out the topcoat you want yet?"
"Yeah, the purple glitter," Damiano says, so Ethan retrieves it and gets Damiano's right hand done. Damiano's left hand takes longer because Damiano, clearly much more recovered, has sent several small tentacles to play with Ethan's hair and it keeps distracting him. It's a good sign so Ethan pets them gently before disentangling them.
Ethan leaves the notebook to the side and gets comfortable again on the floor. "Ready?" Ethan asks. "Remember, hands still, fingers spread. Don't ruin my hard work."
"I won't," Damiano promises.
Ethan stretches out his fingers and then starts up again slowly. Damiano's growing on top of him again, but all the tentacles are thick this time. It gives Ethan better targets to hit with his hand without losing himself in a nest and it probably keeps the pain more contained; when Damiano flips himself around to present new tentacles on top, Ethan doesn't go searching for the other ones. He lets Damiano control how spread out he wants this to be. Instead, Ethan focuses on what he wants, and that's satisfying impacts and the way Damiano shifts beneath his hand and in his lap every time Ethan's hand connects with Damiano's body.
This time, the tentacles flush green and yellow, blooming outward, tinged at the edges with pale blue. Ethan traces the spirals and patterns and rubs his thumb against a spot that looks particularly sore. "You are always so beautiful," he tells Damiano, who squirms down hard against Ethan's lap. "You are," Ethan says. "I love you like this."
"So can I--" Damiano starts, his tentacles making it very clear what he wants.
"No, I want to come in your mouth," Ethan says.
Damiano tries to snuggle his way down into Ethan's shorts, all his tentacles having one clear goal. "Ethan, please?"
"You can put your tentacles wherever you want," Ethan offers and Damiano turns a uniform shade of purple to match his nails, his tentacles shrinking down and multiplying. Ha, Ethan knew he'd like that.
"Yeah, okay," Damiano says, a little breathless with the abrupt change. "Yeah. Good idea."
"You're still going to keep your hands to yourself," Ethan says. The topcoat dries pretty fast, but at this point, it's just the principle of the thing. What's the point of Damiano sucking him off in this form if he's not going to fully use the form? Damiano can use his hands when he's in the mood for legs.
"Who needs hands," Damiano says and turns around. "Can I start now?"
Ethan gives him a thumbs-up and is immediately enveloped. Damiano's tentacles hold him in place, Ethan's hands individually positioned to the side, cradled and cushioned by what must be a dozen tentacles each. His shorts slowly shift downward and then off. Damiano crowds between Ethan's spread legs and spreads them further. One enterprising tentacle starts teasing Ethan from behind and two slip their tips into his mouth at the same time as Damiano's tongue touches Ethan's cock.
Ethan tries to move, and can't. He tries flexing his foot enough to kick at Damiano and there's no give at all. Oh, fuck, that's good. Ethan tries it again just to feel Damiano hold him in place, his mouth on his cock, and nothing Ethan can do but enjoy it. Ethan sucks harder on the tentacles peeking into his mouth, but they're barely coming further in than just teasing at his lips. That's fair. Ethan doesn't want to accidentally bite them.
Beneath the shifting tangle of tentacles, Ethan can see that Damiano's keeping to the spirit of things and has his hands held behind his back. It makes no practical difference since Damiano is all over him, but Ethan appreciates the aesthetic, along with the commitment to obedience.
Slowly, Damiano starts to fuck him.
This is revenge for earlier. This is absolutely revenge for earlier. On the other hand, if he'd known Damiano was going to return it like this, Ethan would have been even meaner.
There are two tentacles stroking Ethan's cock where Damiano's mouth can't reach. The contrast between the wet heat of Damiano's mouth and the cooler slickness of his tentacles would have Ethan's hips buckling, if he could. And then Damiano starts to hum, a low reverberation beginning in his throat and spreading across his entire body. Ethan feels it everywhere, a sound in his ears, a vibration running through him. He tries to press back against Damiano, tries to thrust into him, but is held perfectly, perfectly in Damiano's grasp. Perfectly safe. Perfectly fucked.
"Damiano," Ethan tries to warn, and Damiano tightens his grip all over Ethan, holding him in place as Ethan comes exactly how he wanted to. Damiano holds him until it starts becoming uncomfortable, and then Damiano shrinks himself down, still cushioning Ethan from the floor, but letting him move as he likes.
"Come up here and kiss me," Ethan orders and Damiano is swift to obey. Ethan finds himself with Damiano's legs bent to straddle him, his knees on either side of Ethan's hips, as Damiano kisses him tenderly. Ethan grabs Damiano's thighs, fingertips digging into the strong muscle. A couple of Damiano's permanent procreative tentacles tenderly wrap themselves around Ethan's spent cock.
Ethan pulls Damiano's hands out from behind his back and checks his nails. Not a smudge.
"Good boy," Ethan says. Damiano preens.
This entry was originally posted at https://lannamichaels.dreamwidth.org/1209677.html.