Archive of Our Own

It's late when Roberto gets back to his Paris apartment, unlocking both locks and putting a catch and deadbolt in place on the other side before he kicks off his cons and hangs his jacket. The light in the hall is scaled by the twinkling silver light fitting, and though the wallpaper shows signs of wear, it's tasteful and modern.

In the kitchen, Roberto pours himself some water and then gets a bottle of wine off the rack and fills another glass, taking both through to his bedroom and starting to strip off his clothes after setting both down. He pauses with his shirt halfway over his head at the sight of the envelope on his pillow.

Someone's been here. There's a short list of people who it could have been.

Dropping his shirt, Roberto opens his dresser drawer and digs out the nine-millimeter pistol he keeps in there, checking the ammo and the safety and moving to jerk open the closet. Once he's checked that and the en suite and found them both empty, he reaches for the envelope, keeping half an eye on the door.

Inside, a plane ticket, and a note. The ticket is to Madrid. The note is from Duncan.

There'll be a car at the airport. Bring enough for a week. If you're not available, the ticket is, of course, yours to transfer.

Roberto can't help but smile at that - trust Duncan to add a self-deprecating nod to an otherwise elegant gesture.

Elegant, if a bit menacing. Fucking creepy as shit, actually. He'll have to give him hell for breaking in. Or at least for leaving after. He frowns, peering at his bedroom window, still locked as he left it. That makes him a bit uneasy, but the thought of Madrid is alluring. And work. Work, and the play that follows.

He looks over the note again, the tickets, and sighs. A final rummage in the envelope reveals a matte black bank card. Roberto raises an eyebrow: that's a bit better. Curious, he flips it over and calls the customer service number, makes a balance inquiry. Then, he hangs the phone up and stands in stunned silence for a few minutes.

"Some guidance would be nice, Duncan," he mutters. He finds the number for Duncan in his phone, but hesitates to call it: he might be working. He'll wing it. Tomorrow. Tonight he has a date with this bottle of wine.

He looks at the card again; considers his empty fridge. Wine and delivery. He calls and orders from a local place, and smokes a cigarette while he studies the contents of the envelope again.

"Very fancy, Duncan. What do you have in mind?"

*

What Roberto has in mind is using his new bank card for the clothes he's been told to take with him, as well as for a car to the airport. The flight is short, and smooth, and at the other end Roberto is met by a man holding a sign with his name on. He allows himself to be relieved of his bag and settles into the back of the limo. He can't help but feel a little deflated at Duncan not being here. But - he was told it would be a car. He'd just hoped.

He sighs and slumps down in his seat. At least there's champagne. He folds one leg over the other, peering up out of the sunroof at the trees and buildings sliding by. Madrid is beautiful. He wonders where he will be asked to go. And who he'll be asked to tie up.

His skin tingles pleasurably at the thought. Hopefully Duncan, at some point. He's still remembering the feel of Duncan's cock when they pull to a stop. He sits up, curls ruffled from the travelling, and pushes his sunglasses up to look around as the driver comes to open the door. That's when he sees Duncan waiting under the portico.

He's wearing... less than usual. Well, so is Roberto. He takes his time unfolding from the car. When he gets out, Duncan just waits. Roberto hopes it's because he's struck dumb with lust, and not because he's annoyed. He certainly looks annoyed.

He always looks annoyed.

"Nice of you to drop by unannounced and sniff my pants," Roberto greets.

Duncan snorts, taking in Roberto's outfit. "I wouldn't have assumed you kept many around the place."

"Ah, you were disappointed then?"

Duncan shakes his head and takes Roberto's bag. Roberto looks up at the sun bleached building, elegant and tall. Another swanky apartment block.

"Very trendy, Duncan. Did you miss me terribly?"

Duncan just smiles. Now Roberto looks him over, he looks good too, in a thin, long sleeved crew neck and slacks, all dark. Sleeker than usual. His hair slicked back, beard closely trimmed. Roberto doesn't bother not to stare at his broad back as they go to the lift. He wants things, and he wants them soon. He craves him, truly.

"What am I doing here?" he asks Duncan, after a few moments' terse silence.

"Coming to our apartment," Duncan replies.

"Our apartment."

"Of course. I have a key card for you upstairs."

Intrigued, Roberto follows him down a pristine white corridor lined with bright art, pausing outside a heavy set door and then following him inside. He certainly can't fault Duncan his taste. The suite is huge, and light, and polished. Duncan carries his bag through to the bedroom before turning back.

Pertly waiting, Roberto folds his arms. He's not terribly inclined to make this easy.

Finally having enough presence of mind to actually acknowledge him outside of just having done as he's told, Duncan looks at Roberto, and frowns. "You look upset."

"I'm merely waiting for a proper greeting. You can follow that with a proper explanation."

Duncan shifts a bit where he's stood. "I wanted to surprise you."

"That isn't a terribly welcome thing in my line of work, Duncan."

"I made sure you wouldn't be out of pocket."

"Thoughtful. What exactly is the job?"

Another pause. Duncan is looking awkwardly at somewhere around Roberto's middle. "Reconnaissance," he finally says. "I’m waiting on the confirmation of a mark’s whereabouts."

"Right, and I don't even get asked now, do I? I'm just the dispensable hooker you pull in when you don't want to be bored on a job."

"You came, Roberto. And I'm not unwilling to pay for company," Duncan rumbles.

Roberto sticks his chin out. "I like to be asked."

Duncan sighs heavily. "Roberto, will you spend the week with me in Madrid, as my companion?"

He scowls further. "Yes," he pouts. "But for the record, this isn't how I like business to be conducted."

Duncan nods, face falling slightly. "Noted," he says quietly. He sticks his hands in his pockets and paces over to the floor-to-ceiling window.

Roberto waits for him to stop sulking with a sigh. Then he thinks perhaps he ought to do something about it.

"Duncan..." He fidgets slightly. He sees Duncan's head lift and takes a step closer. "I missed you," he purrs.

"Did you." Duncan looks out of the window again.

"Life is more interesting when you call me, darling." After a pause, he curls his hands around one of Duncan's firm biceps. "Not that you called this time."

The muscles under his hands tighten, then release. "Next time, I will."

Slowly, he tugs out of Roberto's grip, but only to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him close. A little thrill of pleasure goes through him at the touch; Duncan's attentive expression. "You look gorgeous," he murmurs.

"My Daddy bought me some new clothes," Roberto says, twisting as if to display them.

Duncan only holds him tighter. "Glad you like them."

"Can't fault his taste."

Duncan shakes his head with a faint huff of laughter. "Shame he couldn't be there to watch you pick."

"You can take me shopping here, Duncan," Roberto says generously.

"I'd like that." He holds a little tighter.

Roberto watches him closely, not sure what he's thinking. One thing he can count on is Duncan's absolute respect; which is why he's pushing so hard now, about this little thing.

"Are you hungry?" Is what Duncan says, finally.

"Room service and pay per view?" Roberto twits him gently. He pauses. "Unless there's work to do-?"

"Not at the moment."

"Okay. Sure." He blinks up at Duncan for a moment. "Unless I ought to freshen up -?"

"You can, if you want to relax-?"

God, they're awkward. Roberto decides a kiss will only help. He leans up, nosing at him. "Hi, Daddy."

Duncan claims his lips with a soft kiss. "Hi," he repeats softly. A hand comes up to Roberto's cheek. "You're okay?"

"I'm more than okay, I'm great." Roberto grins.

"Oh?" His smile is a rare thing.

Roberto touches it. "Don't you agree?"

"I do. I do."

"Kiss me again, Duncan."

He does, soft and sweet. This is better. Tasting of cigarettes and mint. Roberto touches the center of his chest and sighs.

"It's a nice surprise, y'know, seeing you."

"Good," Duncan rumbles. His hands come hesitantly to Roberto's waist. They wrap around, large and strong.

Roberto smiles. "I didn't think I'd see you again so soon. I had hoped."

"So had I. And you even brought the weather with you."

Roberto smiles. "Will we swim, do you think?"

"There is a pool on the roof, it's at your disposal."

"Good," Roberto drawls. He bought a new swimsuit too. He considers it now. "Do you swim, Duncan?"

"I can," Duncan allows. Roberto waits patiently. "People look at me," he adds.

"Look at you?"

"My scars. It's not good to be so noticeable."

Roberto bites his lip. "We should go tonight then."

Duncan pauses, then nods. "We could."

"It might be fun," Roberto raises his eyebrows, "I like swimming."

"How much do you like it?" Duncan says, seeming to warm to it.

"Very much. And I bought some very small shorts with me for just such an occasion."

"Oh, I see." Another of the rare smiles.

Roberto bites his lip on his own. "But - for now, delivery and a movie, right?"

"Whatever you like."

He sighs, faintly impatient. "What about what you like?"

"I just wanted you," Duncan murmurs.

"You must have put a bit more thought into it than that?" Tell me, he urges with his entire stance.

Duncan takes a breath like he's steeling himself. "I get… lonely, when I'm working jobs like this, and I wanted you to. I wanted to kill time with you. Because you're - interesting. I want to go to dinner, and... talk. Go see things nearby."

Roberto can't reply for a moment. He's been hired for his company before, of course. But not by a man like this.

"All right." He doesn't ask about money - the black card's contents are... ample. That's not even counting what he's already spent. He might have been a little excessive, there, in his faint annoyance before he arrived here. "So- I'll wash up and we'll go for a walk, mm? Take a look around. It's not late yet." He can feel the faint yielding in the body against his, knows it's the right suggestion finally.

"We could go for dinner," Duncan offers.

"I'll dress for it," Roberto promises.

"So will I. Nothing too formal."

Roberto just laughs and extricates himself with a kiss to the stubbled cheek. "Not what I had in mind. Wanna come watch me take a bath?"

"Just watch?" Duncan murmurs.

"We won't ever get out of here if you touch me, you know that right?" His smile turns sharp. "But if you're a very good boy, you'll be allowed to do whatever you want later."

Duncan bites his lip as he nods. "Good. Okay. Just watching."

Roberto's smile stays on his face as he undresses. Duncan balks a bit, and moves to go into the bathroom, the sound of running water soon following. What a doll, honestly.

Roberto leaves his clothes in a pile before he pursues. He saunters in, comfortably naked. Duncan looks up from the great clawfoot tub, billowing steam, and visibly swallows. "It's ready," he murmurs.

"Thank you," Roberto murmurs, taking Duncan's offered hand of support as he steps up into the bath. It's huge, and deep. He takes his time sinking in. Feels Duncan watch the whole time, perched on the lip of the tub now. Roberto smiles up at him. "Tell me what you've been up to."

"Just came back from Moscow."

"Did you wear fur? I bet you look hot as hell in fur."

"I borrowed some," Duncan murmurs.

"Mm, I suppose you gave it back. Pity."

"I tend to travel light."

"Another thing we don't have in common." They both chuckle.

"I think not having much in common might be a good thing."

"Why is that, Duncan?" Roberto lifts one arm, soaping lazily.

"Makes things more interesting."

Roberto watches his face out of the corner of his eye. He certainly looks interested. He looks lustful. Roberto turns to him, folding his arms against the rim of the tub, one knee rising out of the water as he itches his ankle absently with his toes.

"Would you like to pick me something to wear, Daddy?"

"Yes," Duncan says softly. "But - when you're done." He seems to find it difficult to tear his gaze away.

Roberto reaches up to make a wet handprint on the arm of his shirt as he kisses him. He doesn't feel at all badly about it. Duncan doesn't hesitate to curl his fingers into his hair; tip him to deepen the kiss. He tastes of smoke and desperation, but he doesn't push any further.

"That was nice," Roberto purrs against his lips. "Kiss me again anytime."

"Thank you," Duncan bows his chin. He's still looking avid.

Roberto holds his gaze. The air between them is thick, weighty.

"You look so beautiful," Duncan whispers.

"Sweetheart, you say the nicest things."

A self-conscious sigh at that. Roberto thinks he's not used to being the one offering the compliments - Duncan strikes him as a passive lover, someone who wants to be wordlessly steered into pleasure. Emphasis on the wordless. Roberto bites his lip on a grin, and pulls away to wash up. Duncan is being so patient.

"Where shall we go for dinner?"

"There's a restaurant down the street with an outdoor terrace. They have music."

"Do you like music?" Somehow Roberto doubts it.

"You do," Duncan answers.

"I like someplace quiet for dinner."

"We can do quiet."

"Let's." Roberto stands carefully; water cascades off his skin. He waits patiently for Duncan to bring a towel. Lets him wrap it around him carefully. The plush terry cloth feels soft against his skin. He lets out a pleased breath. "Outfit now?"

"Mm, okay." Duncan lets him have a moment and paces back into the bedroom.

Roberto brushes his teeth, listening to the sound of him unzipping Roberto's bags; examining the contents. It makes him smile: a few things in there to surprise him. It's better to let him do it unobserved - almost, anyway. Roberto leaves the water on and tiptoes to the doorway.

Duncan's fingers skimming cautiously over silk and lace is too sweet to resist. Roberto watches nearly as avidly as he'd been watched in the bath. He feels a delicate prickle of desire climb up his spine. This man has killer's hands and a gentle touch, how could he resist?

He sighs, and moves to turn the tap off. Time to dress. "What did you pick?" he asks, as he fastens the towel around his waist. Duncan glances over his shoulder, hands full of something dark and satiny. Roberto raises his eyebrows.

"Start with this," Duncan orders softly. He watches as Roberto drops the towel and steps closer, holding his arms up like a child. He's not smirking like one, though.

Duncan pulls the silky camisole over his head with careful hands, calloused fingers catching on the satin. He kneels to help Roberto step into a pair of lace shorts, not quite transparent. When Duncan reaches back into the bag, he draws out a gold and black patterned tunic, all fluttering silk, capped sleeves, softly feminine without being girly.

"Do you want to dress like - are you nervous of wearing this kind of thing?"

Roberto laughs. "I'm never nervous. Even less when I'm with you." He lets Duncan slide the material over his head. He knows it suits him, especially the stretch of pale bare leg underneath. Loose but not shapeless, flatteringly tapered. Roberto knows plenty of people would clock him as a woman at first glance, and he’s fine with that. "Good choice, Daddy," he whispers.

Duncan touches his hips and leans close. "Sometimes I make good ones," he murmurs, eyes tracking to Roberto's lips.

"Mm, sometimes. Let me just slip into my shoes and we'll go, shall we?"

He quickly brushes on some blush and mascara too, putting a lip balm in Duncan's jacket pocket with a little smile when he meets him in the hall.

"No pockets," he says sweetly, smoothing over his hips.

Duncan smiles and touches his cheek. "Not a problem."

Roberto checks his reflection a final time in the mirror with a sigh. He's pleased, but strangely energized. "Let's go."

Duncan tucks his things into his pockets, ending with a pistol in a hidden holster. Roberto watches, intrigued.

"Expecting trouble?" he asks, a little breathless.

"With you around? Always."

"Well, I'd hate to disappoint."

"You never do."

He slips a hand into Duncan's elbow. They head downstairs together in wordless satisfaction. Roberto preens at each and every look that falls on them as they stroll. He's aware that on passing glance that he's beautiful; on second that he's remarkable. Closer, and someone might notice he's unusual. But nobody ever gets to look that close. That would mean getting close to Duncan. Which never happens. He has an aura too.

They meander through the darkening streets, lit copper by the sinking sun, the pale buildings glowing red. Roberto has rarely felt so carefree. He's wildly out of place in a high end part of town, but he can't care. He's with Duncan, who makes his own place. Who fosters foreignisms; invisibility. Who makes Roberto feel alight, and strangely known.

He leads them into a restaurant, as dark and glittering as they themselves are. Roberto is immediately furnished with a glass of champagne, which can only be a good start. Their table is a plush, round booth along one wall, which is...dangerous. Roberto has to slide close, smiling. He clinks their champagne flutes together. "Cheers to Madrid, Daddy."

"Cheers," Duncan murmurs. He glances at Roberto over the rim. "Order for us?"

"Gladly." Roberto looks up at the server who is hovering, and orders in somewhat rusty Spanish. He has a feeling this isn't about whether or not Duncan speaks Spanish. When the server is gone, Roberto props his chin on Duncan's shoulder. "Think we'll get kicked out if I make you hand feed me?" he grins.

"Depends how much those oysters were," Duncan rumbles.

Roberto just laughs. "Like you care."

"I don't. Order more. Whatever you want."

Roberto feels a warm hand settle on his thigh. "Do you like my shoes?" he asks Duncan, softly.

"Yes," Duncan murmurs back. He lets Roberto stay close even when he turns to get out one of his phones; scan the contents of a message with an intent frown.

Roberto feels himself come to slight attention. This doesn't feel like reconnaissance, it feels like dinner - but has he misread? Then Duncan puts it away again and leans to kiss his shoulder where his kaftan has dipped low.

"Hey," Roberto whispers.

Duncan hums, kissing again. He lets Roberto stroke his hair back gently.

"Can you ignore whatever that message was?" Roberto whispers.

A considering pause, and then Duncan nods. "Yes." He looks up as the plate of oysters is delivered. Roberto lets his smile turn sly.

"Gracias," he murmurs.

He can feel Duncan's eyes on him as he tips back the first oyster. He licks his lips slowly once he's swallowed it down.

"Want one?" He smiles.

"Yes," Duncan murmurs. He accepts the shell that Roberto hands him, tips it back without any outward signs of self consciousness.

Roberto props his chin in his hand and takes a sip of his champagne. "Tell me about Russia then."

"Met an absolutely vile businessman. Thought his ex-KGB bodyguards were sufficient. They weren't."

"Were they any fun, at least?"

"Which ones?"

"Any of them."

Duncan chuckles. "You would've liked to watch," he murmurs.

"Yeah, I would."

Duncan picks up another oyster and holds it to his lips. "I used a knife for most of it."

Roberto has to hold his breath for a moment to control himself. Duncan waits with the shell, watching his face. When his breath is completely steady, Roberto lets him tip the oyster into his mouth. He swallows, licks his lips. "Are you carrying it now?"

"Yes," Duncan says, voice low and barely audible.

"Good," Roberto says sweetly. He curls into Duncan's side and sips from his flute again, looking around the restaurant, quiet, light and somehow still with a feeling of privacy. He feels somewhat like they own it; like they own the world.

A cold flash of metal against his thigh snaps his attention back to Duncan. His lips part. The hunting knife is sharp, and serrated, with a tapered curve at the end. It gleams like precious silver.

"And here I thought you were happy to see me," Roberto smiles.

"I am," Duncan rumbles. The blade travels slowly up his thigh to the hem of his tunic before disappearing to wherever Duncan keeps it.

Roberto takes another deep breath, and then a drink. His body is tingling. He didn't expect to be the one floundering. Duncan keeps surprising him. He's not sure he likes it. He'll have to decide if he wants to allow it.

For now, though, he turns the conversation to safer topics. Not necessarily more appropriate. Roberto has a reputation to uphold.

"Have you been spying on me, then?" he muses.

Duncan's expression is stoic, but Roberto merely waits. "Spying... is a strong word..."

"Peeping in my windows? Reading my mail?"

He thinks Duncan looks slightly embarrassed. "Not those either...a little surveillance of the neighborhood..."

"Mmhm." Roberto angles his chin meaningfully. "Someone else."

"Pardon?" Duncan says.

"Someone else has been watching me. You told someone to keep an eye on me."

Duncan sighs.

"Someone else knows where I live," Roberto's voice starts to raise slightly, "someone in your line of work-"

"No," Duncan corrects. "Not someone in my line of work. Someone who owes me a favor from a long time ago."

"How do you know them?"

"Her da and I were in the army together. We kept in touch."

Roberto sighs, topping up his glass irritably. "Perhaps you could have just asked me where I live. Or texted me." Then he shakes his head. "Worried I'd say no?"

Duncan sets his jaw, looking at the table; his own drink.

"Like the tickets," Roberto continues, with a sigh.

"Like the tickets."

"Damn it, Duncan," Roberto murmurs, with reluctant fondness, "I literally have been in jail and I have better people skills than you."

"I don't know that those are related."

"Shows what you know."

"Are you asking me to stop?" Duncan asks, motioning for another bottle of champagne.

"Stop having me followed? Yes, Christ. If I were anybody else I probably would have called the police by now, Duncan."

He frowns at that. "You still have the option."

Roberto looks away, faintly irritated, their terse conversation interrupted by servers bringing their mains. "I don't like police."

Duncan just nods. "I know." He serves himself a bite of his entree, nodding in approval.

Roberto concentrates hard on staying calm; pulling things back. "Is this you, thinking you have a claim on me?" he asks quietly as he picks up his fork.

"I just - wanted to make sure you were okay."

"You have my number," Roberto reminds him.

"I don't like the phone."

It's strangely firm, despite their brief history of very much enjoying the phone. Roberto huffs. "I don't like being followed."

"Are you going to leave?" Duncan asks.

"Are you going to have me followed?"

"No."

Roberto considers, then sighs. "No, I'm not leaving. I think...in your world, you thought what you were doing was good, maybe even smart. But your world isn't mine."

"Our worlds aren't so different," Duncan murmurs, maybe a little hurt.

Roberto smirks. "We both get paid quite a lot for doing things we're good at. A lot being relative, of course," he eyes Duncan sideways.

He doesn't waver. "If you wish," he rumbles, "I will not contact you again unless I wish to...purchase your services."

"I want you to contact me because you want to." He hisses it.

Duncan doesn't miss a beat, and growls right back, "I always want to."

"Then do it. I don't want you keeping some remote eye on me. I want your eyes on me."

"I want my eyes on you all the time," Duncan tells him.

"Then put them on me. Not someone else's."

There is a very, very long pause while Duncan takes a drink. "That's not...a business relationship," Duncan points out.

"No, it isn't." Their eyes meet, finally, and snag. "I'm not giving back this bank card," Roberto says flatly.

"I didn't ask you to."

"Just so long as we're clear."

Duncan nods. "I want you to have whatever you want from me," he murmurs.

"That's a very big statement, Daddy."

"Just so long as we're clear," Duncan echoes, a bit sharply.

Roberto doesn't sense any great softness; no romantic whimsy behind it. Duncan is not used to wanting things, or indeed getting them. Roberto is used to wanting things. Not necessarily to getting them. Both of them are at odds with this. But perhaps that's why Roberto is so fascinated.

He sighs, letting out a breath of pleasant tension. Duncan always surprises him. "So what did you learn then, from your friend's observations of me?"

Duncan scowls softly over his fork. "That you're sneaky."

Roberto laughs. "Oh, truly?"

A sage nod; a slight smile. "It was...enjoyable to hear about." Roberto tilts his head. Duncan elaborates: "She says you have a light touch and sticky fingers. Says you're less selfish than you'd have me believe. There was an incident with a customer who got too greedy with one of your associates, am I right?"

Roberto feels himself flush. "It's good business to stomp out that kind of thing."

"Mm, I'm sure it is." Duncan laughs. "Didn't stomp though, did you?" At Roberto's silence, he smiles. "You cut."

Oh, yes, Roberto remembers. "Just a nick."

"It was enough to scare the shit out of him," Duncan snorts.

"Is that what that smell was?" Roberto laughs at Duncan's expression. Faint surprise suits him. "Don't start thinking I'm a do-gooder, Daddy."

"That's not what I want."

"You don't, do you." Roberto puts his silverware down, leans closer.

"I'm not... I shouldn't be around normal people," Duncan says, simply.

"Probably not." Satisfied, Roberto goes back to his dinner. He's feeling the wave of heat from earlier returning to his limbs. It stays there, a gentle hum, as he eats. As he savors.

Eventually, Duncan's hand finds his knee, just for a few moments. A simple press, just contact. Being recognized. Roberto drops his cutlery and leans into his side, eyes soft.

"Nice dinner, Daddy?"

"Good enough." He seems disinterested at best; the champagne is going down better.

"I ought to have fed you the rest of it," Roberto teases.

"Maybe next time," Duncan gives him a slight smile.

Roberto tops off both their glasses, savoring the sight of it. "What shall we do tomorrow?" he whispers.

"What would you like to do?"

"Mm, fuck."

"I ought not to be surprised."

"You sound disappointed."

Duncan chuckles, fingers twitching like he wants a smoke. "Not at all implied. But this is Madrid, and -"

"And you want to sight see? I'm offended." He's not offended. He thinks it's cute when Duncan goes speechless, is all.

He bites his lip. "Both - I'd like to do both."

"Well, we can start with the fucking," Roberto purrs.

"I thought you wanted to swim."

"I suppose we can take a break for that as well." A smirk at that. Roberto adores it instantly.

"For dessert, Daddy," Roberto whispers in his ear, "why don't you tell me what you want me to do with you when we get back?"

"You can have dessert as well if you like."

Roberto nuzzles him. "Are you so eager to be kept waiting?"

"I'm patient."

Roberto thinks back to the bath. "You like it." A slight shrug, as usual. Duncan won't tell him. "Torture victims are chattier than you," Roberto scolds softly.

"Post torture, maybe."

"I defer to your experience." He nips Duncan's jaw lightly. "Call for the check."

Duncan does, in English. Of course, they've spent enough on dinner that no one cares what language they're asking in. He suspects Duncan does it for a reason, though. Playing tourist, probably, just like tomorrow.

They settle the bill and gather their things. Roberto lets himself be gathered close, on the way out, but soon laughs. "Don't you think you ought to have that smoke you've been craving?"

With a hum of acknowledgement, Duncan gets out the pack, smoking as they walk down the street, bustling and warm even in the dark. Roberto feels wind ruffle his curls, sending Duncan's smoke curling to the sky. He cranes his neck up at the towering blocks, glowing orange in the street light. It's pretty, and it's a bit dangerous. He likes it.

"Big place," he murmurs.

"One of the biggest in Europe," Duncan replies prosaically.

"Yes, I suppose so." Roberto leans on him so he's forced back into a nearby doorway, the shop it belongs to long since shut. "Know what else is big, Daddy?"

Unruffled, Duncan drops his cigarette butt and grinds it out. "What's that, Roberto?"

He tastes of smoke when Roberto kisses him hard. "Your cock, Duncan, and I want it-" he leans harder, rubbing their hips together.

A thrill climbs up his spine when Duncan's hands immediately come to grasp him closer by his thighs. His fingers slip up under Roberto's silken hem and tug.

"Fuck," Roberto whispers, "Duncan..." He can feel himself hard now, straining against thin lace.

Duncan kisses him again, deeper, rougher. He pulls Roberto into him, hands hard and hot, and Roberto can't restrain another soft moan. He's thinking of the knife again. His own hands search for it over Duncan's lean body, until Duncan is laughing against his lips.

"In my boot, boy."

"God, that's not as sexy."

"Practical."

"Ugh." Roberto pulls back with a laugh, tossing his hair back. "Come on, come and dazzle me with more of that talk at home."

"I'd prefer action," Duncan rumbles.

"Good job I was being sarcastic then isn't it."

"You're always sarcastic."

Roberto kisses him again fleetingly before they start walking. His stomach cramps faintly with need. Unconsciously, he walks faster. Duncan, of course, easily keeps pace.

When they get back to the apartment, Roberto closes the door quickly. Duncan just gets his hands back on him and lifts.

"Duncan-" Roberto wraps his arms around his neck. He wraps his legs around his waist. His shoes fall off with two heavy thuds. Then he feels the wall meet his back.

A slinking drop of Duncan's shoulder, and then he has the knife against Roberto's thigh again. "How much do you like this dress?"

It takes Roberto a moment. "Shit."

"Mm?"

"I don't like anything that much."

"Good to know," Duncan murmurs, pulling the hem down, stretching the material taut and slicing up through it cleanly.

Roberto groans at the rasp of metal on silk. And then cold steel against his hip, a needle of trepidation, the tunic hanging off his shoulders like a waistcoat and his chemise underneath whispering against his skin. Duncan waits.

"Don't care about that either," Roberto assures.

Another whispering rip as he holds his breath. He lets it out in a shudder when Duncan gently pushes the tatters off his shoulders.

"That's better," he murmurs, stroking a hand down Roberto's chest.

"I agree." Roberto follows the motion of his hand, down to the tatters of silk and satin at his feet, and Duncan kneels before him with a hum. "Duncan," he whispers.

"Yes?"

He feels flayed, adored. Duncan covers his hips with his hands and sighs. His eyes track all over Roberto's body.

"What now?" Roberto whispers.

He watches Duncan breathe him in. Then, he starts to slide down the shorts.

"No," Roberto says suddenly. "Suck me first."

Duncan hesitates, still holding the knife. Roberto eyes the direction of his gaze. "I trust you," he murmurs.

Slowly, Duncan grasps it against Roberto's hip as he leans in to kiss the line of his hard cock. Roberto lets out a quiet moan. He's a little shaken by how much he wants him. Shaken by what he needs. He reaches down and strokes through Duncan's silvering hair and Duncan's tongue presses against the head of his cock through the lace.

"Duncan," Roberto sighs. "Get them nice and wet," he murmurs.

Duncan flattens his tongue against him with a slow sigh. He keeps his eyes down, intent on what he's doing. He seems to entirely relish mapping the shape of Roberto through his underwear. It's a tease, but a lovely one. He tips his head back against the wall with a groan.

"Oh, Daddy," he whispers.

Duncan thumbs away the hem of his shorts to suck softly at his inner thigh. His mustache tickles against the silky skin. Slowly, he draws the knife down and slips it under the fabric. Roberto licks his lips. One slip, and he'd bleed out.

Duncan meets his gaze as he tilts his wrist and the fabric zips open. Roberto groans softly. The shorts still cling around one thigh and Duncan pulls the scrap of fabric away from his cock with a hum. It springs free with a jerk of involuntary muscles and Duncan smiles at him, a grimace more than anything but genuine.

"So hard already."

"Please, like you haven't been all night."

Duncan chuckles. "All night might be a slight exaggeration."

"Shut up and suck me," Roberto purrs.

Duncan raises his eyebrows, and does as he's told. As remembered, he's surprisingly skilled. Roberto's thighs immediately threaten to shake. He grasps at the wall for purchase.

One of Duncan's big, rough hands wraps around his thigh. He keeps sucking, eyes closed, movements surprisingly delicate. Not like a professional, not like Roberto. But like a lover.

The thought floors him for a moment. He breathes Duncan's name. Feels his gaze on him. His knife still against Roberto's hip.

"Can we go to the bedroom-? I haven't even seen it yet..."

Duncan pulls off. "Of course," he rasps. He stands, so much taller now Roberto is barefoot. Roberto leans closer, like a plant to the sun. "Shall I bring this?" Duncan puts the flat of the blade against his sternum.

"I don't have anything left to cut off," Roberto says.

"No, but I do."

The words travel through Roberto with a shiver. "Lead the way," he murmurs, kicking the last scraps of fabric off his foot.

He follows broad shoulders through the door, watches as Duncan touches a light switch and illuminates the bedroom. He barely got a look before - it's beautiful, pale linens and luxurious decor. Unsurprisingly, he wants to see it a mess, twisted linens and bare skin under golden lights.

He touches the back of Duncan's shoulder gently. Duncan halts and stands still for his touch and Roberto slips the blade out of his palm.

"You do look good in this shirt, you know," he murmurs in his ear.

"Glad you approve."

"Glad you're not too attached to it."

"No," Duncan says, simply.

Roberto pricks his shoulder lightly with the point of the knife. Slowly, Duncan turns to him.

"You look like you know how to use that."

"I know how to use it."

"Show me."

"Suppose I ought not to break skin, then," Roberto muses, slicing easily down through thin cotton.

"I'd rather you didn't." He doesn't flinch, though. And he stops Roberto's hand when it gets to his belt. "Some of this ought to be saved."

"I disagree."

Meeting his eyes steadily, Duncan unbuckles the belt, drawing it hissing through the loops and tossing it onto the foot of the bed. Roberto looks after it for a moment, thoughtful. "Who -"

"Does it matter?" Duncan interrupts.

"Not too samey?" Roberto gives him a crooked little smile.

"That suggests it's for me."

"Isn't it?"

"Maybe not."

With a tilt of his head, Roberto takes a breath, thinking. It's certainly not on his list of services. But this isn't exactly a job anymore. He puts the knife down, and winds his arms around Duncan's neck. "Tell me what you're in the mood for, Daddy."

Duncan doesn't answer, just pulls Roberto close by his hips and walks him back toward the bed. It's enough to make his stomach flutter.

"I want to give you what you want," Duncan mutters, "for a change."

Roberto smiles, but he's still feeling curiously weightless. "You don't know what I want."

"You could tell me. Failing that, I can just - figure it out."

Roberto bites his lip. "I want you to fuck me," he mutters. "I always want you to fuck me, but - what if I don't know?"

"Then - I'll give you everything."

"Jesus," Roberto mutters, shaking his head.

"What? You do know now?"

"Just - you. The way you say things, you're always so serious."

"Not always," Duncan says, unconvincingly. It makes Roberto itch to take him apart, the way it always does. He sighs and cups his face.

Duncan leans in and kisses him. Finally, he lifts him to the mattress, kneeling onto it after him. Each movement is wordless and deliberate. A hand cupping the back of Roberto's head, he kisses him slow and pointedly thorough, enough so that Roberto's body can't help but react. He lets out a sigh that makes his ears burn, but Duncan seems to like it. His mouth finds Roberto's throat, stubble scraping skin.

He sucks at the skin like he's starving, his hands smoothing huge and rough down his back. He shifts his mouth, letting it cover every inch of Roberto's pale torso.

Roberto isn't sure he's ever been like this before - active. He's not sure what to do, or say. He just wants more. He can't hold back his sighs and gasps. He hadn't been quite sure Duncan even knew how to touch like this. Handling him down onto his back on the mattress, spreading his thighs gently with his hands and skimming down to kiss his belly and hips. His fingers find small pink nipples and twist and Roberto stutters on a cry. He's not sure what is happening here. Just knows that when he sinks a hand into Duncan's soft hair, he tilts his chin up to kiss his wrist before bowing down once more. He avoids Roberto's erection, noses down the crease of his thigh.

"Fuck," Roberto breathes, letting his thighs slack. He wasn't expecting this. Duncan is scooping his hands under his thighs and pushing his knees up toward his chest, dipping to mouth delicately at the skin of Roberto's balls and taint, patient as ever. Roberto moans, letting his head fall back. "Duncan - fffuck -"

He drops his hands to Duncan's hair. He's licking lower, letting out soft noises every now and then. The first stroke over his hole is light and slow. Roberto gasps another rough breath, startled by his gentleness. He can feel it spreading like a web over his own skin. He holds himself open, and Duncan slowly laps from the seam behind his balls, down and up again and circling slow with his tongue at either end of the path.

Each circle draws a soft moan from Roberto. His toes point, his belly creasing as he arches. Duncan is unwinding him and winding him in turn. He knuckles his handfuls of hair. Groans as Duncan sucks softly at his skin, silent as ever.

"Duncan -" he cranes his head back against the sheets. "Please, Daddy, you're driving me crazy," he breathes.

A little hum of acknowledgement at that. Along with it, a shift of fingers to replace his tongue. He teases the tip of one against his hole as he drags his tongue up to take the shining pink head of Roberto's cock into his mouth. Still, he sucks only lightly, working his tongue under the head, like he's simply savoring having something in his mouth.

Roberto gently thrashes. It pushes Duncan's finger farther inside. "Oh fuck-" he wriggles. "Duncan, more-"

He takes him deeper, crooks the strong finger. Roberto wishes he could come up with something more original than more repetitions of his name. Why can't he - this is his profession, for fucks sake - This doesn't feel like that. It doesn't at all.

He whines at the thought, covering his eyes with his hand, panting out some of his overwhelm. Being overwhelmed is...new. Not entirely pleasant. He can't really remember the last time. At the thought, he takes a long breath. "Duncan, wait-"

A surprisingly quick response. Duncan pulls back enough to look up.

"Come here?"

"Yes, darling," Duncan murmurs.

Darling. That's new, too. Roberto cups his cheeks with his hands. "Please come here."

Duncan comes, their bodies hot as he lets his weight down onto him, resting on his elbows, dark eyes thoughtful.

"I'm here."

"I like you being here."

"Good," Duncan murmurs.

His expression doesn't change when Roberto whispers, "Stay up here with me?"

"I can't suck you from up here."

"You can kiss me though." He leans in to start it himself.

Duncan smooths a hand down his side, shifting them just a little to get a hand on him as he's kissed, and Roberto whines. The stroke is gentle, slow, and slick.

The slick is mostly him, a bit from Duncan's wet mouth. He arches slow into the motions, pleasure crawling through him like molasses. He can't even tell himself to reciprocate, that's how dazed he feels. Just being kissed, being touched, it feels so new.

Roberto laughs into a kiss and Duncan stalls.

"Oh, Daddy, the way you make me feel-"

The expression transforms into a faint frown, curious. "How do I make you feel?"

"Green. Speechless. Frisky."

"Green?"

"Like a teenager."

"Uncertain," Duncan translates.

"More than expected."

"I see that." Duncan takes a breath. "Tell me what you need."

"Fuck me," Roberto breathes.

"I was getting there."

"I know - just, please."

"As you wish, darling," Duncan murmurs.

Roberto bites back 'don't call me that'. He owes it to Duncan to control his reactions. And he knows it's born of uncharacteristic fear.

Duncan kisses his chest, hands moving again. A strange, vibrating uncertainty still sits in Roberto, and he lets it get brushed away with every skim of his lips. He lets himself be cherished, in a way that he hadn't known was possible. Not for either of them.

Duncan lets him twist away only to reach for his bag on the floor; drag it closer to rummage out lube. He hands it over and receives another gentle kiss for his trouble. It's a completely new flavor to what he's used to. He wouldn't have thought Duncan was capable. He wouldn't have thought he himself could inspire it. But it feels so good, too good almost. With a shaky breath, he pushes Duncan back and opens the lube. This he can do himself.

He slicks Duncan up briskly, swiping the excess between his own thighs. "Come on, Daddy."

Duncan nods, pushing his knees up and letting them drape over his shoulders. He looks lean and fearsome in the low light, every plane picked out in gold light. Strong and scarred, dark-eyed and silent. He holds Roberto's hips fast as he pushes slowly inside him.

They both let out a fast breath. "Duncan," Roberto gasps, head falling back, "yess-"

He's so thick and long, and he doesn't hold back. His pushing rolls are slow but entirely purposeful, every second drawn out. Strength and patience, Roberto thinks, not being entirely skilled at either. Both are driving every coherent thought out of his head. The long sliding pressure soon has him moaning. He pulls his legs up against his chest and bears down.

"Yes," he gasps, "fuck, right there, please..."

Duncan is hitting the spot with every stroke. He's breathing hard, gripping Roberto, still careful. Roberto arches up, breath escaping in pants.

"Go on," he whispers, smoothing his hands over Duncan's shoulders, "fuck me like you want to."

And oh, that's all he needed to say, for Duncan's arms to tighten and bend him, muscles jumping, hips snapping relentlessly. It knocks the air out of him to think Duncan was holding back for his sake. Roberto lets out a noise that's close to a howl. He wants it all.

Duncan grabs his flanks and fucks deeper, watching him, lip curled with the effort. His own breathing rasps in and out.

"Oh god," Roberto breathes, "god, you're so good." He whimpers as Duncan scrapes his nails across his nipple again. "Fuck- more-"

He digs his own nails into Duncan's shoulders. In turn, Duncan bows his head and bites softly at the column of his throat. Not entirely softly, though. Roberto rolls his hips and wordlessly asks for more.

A soft growl; a tighter pinch. One big hand comes to pin Roberto's wrist above his head and he whines. Struggles a bit, just to feel it tighten. It startles another little moan loose. He's quite caught, isn't he?

On cue, Duncan catches his other hand; presses a kiss to his palm before he clasps it above his head with the other. Yes, God, that's good.

Duncan fucks him faster; holds him tight. His wrists pinned; the other hand in his hair. He feels cradled and trapped down and filled in the best way. He moans his pleasure. Duncan is going slow again, working his hips deep, pressing kisses to Roberto's chest and throat. This time, it's given all his considerable force. He feels so deep, stoking light and gold and heat in Roberto that chokes him with intensity. He arches and squirms, voice breaking. His arms strain. Duncan holds him fast, kissing over the soft skin of Roberto's throat.

"Daddy," he gasps, "fuck, s'so good."

"Good boy," Duncan rumbles.

It feels like a bucket of gasoline thrown into an open flame. He jerks and groans and bears down hard.

Duncan makes another low noise like a growl. He leaves a trail of stinging bites across Roberto's shoulder. He's oversensitized, enjoying it entirely. Duncan shifts his hips above him and Roberto yelps.

"Duncan, fuck, fuck!" He's going to come, with that kind of direct stimulation. So quick his ears burn. He groans, arching his entire body up into Duncan's. Their lips meet in another hurried kiss.

They cling and cling. Roberto can't make himself let go. Duncan makes another low throaty growl.

"Duncan- please touch me?" Roberto barely recognizes his own voice. He recognizes the noise Duncan makes in return though. Clenches his fingers because he can't touch.

"Wait," he rumbles softly.

He groans. "Daddy -"

"Wait," Duncan repeats patiently. His hips keep rolling.

Roberto stretches taut. He doesn't want to wait, not at all. But he wants Duncan to keep holding him down; to keep caging him and moving inside him. Each new thrust is perfect torture. He's making the most absurd noises, crushed between their lips, pleading and senseless. It's too much to be believed. He wants more.

He whines his need in long, unsteady breaths. Finally, Duncan curls his hand around his weeping cock and strokes. Roberto's stomach muscles jump. "Fuuuck-"

He feels it building from a long, long way off, like a great crashing wave. He cries out, Duncan leaning in to catch it between their lips. He's palming him in long, smooth motions and Roberto can feel the slick he's spilling as Duncan edges him.

"Daddy, Daddy, fuck, please," be grabs at him with his free hand.

Duncan bites at his throat again. His hand moves faster between them and Roberto's moan is guttural and desperate as it starts. This time, Duncan lets him finish, hips rolling ceaselessly.

It's deafening; too good, too raw. He feels it everywhere. Barely knows where his orgasm starts and Duncan's begins as he feels him jerk and stall. Hands clench and nails bite. Roberto wrenches his other arm free to knuckle both hands into Duncan's hair, dragging him down to kiss him. He can feel Duncan come, deep inside him, spine bowing.

"Fuck," he breathes. His own mess is all over him. He's shaking hard.

Duncan presses his forehead against Roberto's collarbone and breathes raggedly.

"Never enjoyed missionary so much," Roberto muses, and laughs when Duncan slaps his thigh.

"Must you?"

"It's my foil." He's still panting. He tilts his head to kiss Duncan's brow. Duncan intercepts to make it a true kiss and Roberto feels himself melting into it. "Is there anything about you that isn't a mystery?" he whispers to Duncan.

Duncan just shrugs. Roberto laughs. "Just as I suspected."

He's feeling lazy and fond, now. Duncan watches him closely, then pulls away far enough to grab his cigarettes from the bedside.

"Light me one," Roberto says.

Duncan does, two between his lips. He places one carefully between Roberto's. They both take a long draw, and then smoke curls between them. So does silence, but it's warm.

Roberto still feels curiously tingly and shaken. He moves closer for body heat. Duncan wraps an arm around his back and pulls the sheet up, careful not to ash on the sheets. Roberto is the one who reaches for an ashtray, meeting Duncan's eyes as he does. He drops it on the sheets beside them and taps into it before taking another drag. "I want to swim now."

"If you like," Duncan replies. Roberto can hear the space at the end of the phrase where an endearment would go.

He bites his lip. "I would like."

He wishes it weren't so hard to get words out of the man. Duncan's impenetrable, if only in the figurative sense. Roberto smirks at the memory, leaning in for a lingering kiss.

Then, he hops up, stubbing out his spent smoke. "I'm gonna get a quick shower before we go up."

Duncan nods, still smoking his cigarette. Roberto hurries to wash off, a matter of a minute only. When he comes back in a towel, he tilts his head. Duncan has slipped into a swimsuit of his own. He looks absurdly casual. And so hot. If Roberto wasn't so determined to act casual himself, he might let himself say so.

Instead, he licks his lips, and shakes off the reeling sensation of being out of his depth. Then he finds his own suit. He's brought a couple of sets, some more feminine. These are just a pair of tight black bottoms. Very tight, very low. He's lucky he shaves. Though from Duncan's lingering once over, they're still in the realms of indecent.

Good. That's good. Satisfied, he shrugs on a robe, grabs a towel and waits for Duncan to follow. Duncan doesn't waste any time.

Up one floor to the roof, softly lit and overlooking the city, Roberto's breath catches. Duncan's hand finds the small of his back. There's no one else up here, not in the early hours. Technically, it might be closed, but it unlocks for Duncan's card. The pool glows ghostly pale, lit from below. It steams faintly, and Roberto wastes no time dropping his robe and going over to dip a toe.

Duncan just watches for now. The water feels silky warm, and Roberto slips in and takes a few strokes to the opposite side. He's still shallow enough to stand, so he dips down to wet his hair with a hum.

"It's nice, Daddy, you ought to come in."

Eyes lit with pale blue bars from the pool lights, Duncan considers. Roberto lounges and waits. He dips low in the water to hide his smile when Duncan steps to the edge of the pool, scars glowing.

He steps down into the water equally slowly. Roberto forces himself to wait. Duncan comes to him eventually, stopping close but not touching. He's so still, so cautious. Roberto reaches out to touch his chest; traces a scar there.

"There's no one here to see you, Daddy."

"There's you."

"I like to look at you."

"And I you." Duncan reaches out in turn, stroking his hair.

Roberto waits until he's close enough to bring their bodies into contact. Then he surges up to kiss him. Duncan's hands are not staying in any safe spots. It's a darkling thing, the fondness unfurling in Roberto's chest. It makes his vision go a little red. He wraps his arms around Duncan's neck and kisses him deeper.

"You are gorgeous," he murmurs against his lips.

"Hm," is all Duncan says.

Roberto nuzzles his neck. "I like seeing you like this. I liked that shirt I cut off of you. Sometimes I dream about you covered in blood," he whispers.

Against him, he feels Duncan's body tense, but the breath that bursts against Roberto's skin doesn't seem offended, or shocked.

"You dream about me," he repeats finally.

"Sometimes I even daydream about you."

"Oh," Duncan breathes. "You do?"

"Yes. Are you angling?"

Duncan looks torn. "Don't you want to swim?"

"Sure, but you know I like talking."

A smile, then - a real one. "I do know that."

It's a good thing, for both of them. Roberto grins. "Want me to talk dirty to you, then?"

"I want you to tell me more about your dreams. Whatever you want to disclose."

Roberto leans in to kiss him again, then moves back, drawing Duncan with him. "Come sit in the jacuzzi." With a sigh of assent, Duncan allows himself to be led to the steps. Roberto lets him get a good view as he walks. Then he steps down into the hot-tub with a sigh. "It's warm, that's nice."

He's sure it feels good to Duncan. He doesn't seem like the sort to allow himself many indulgences. Except good booze, he thinks, and hookers. And thank fuck for that.

Roberto curls into him with a grin when they're both settled in the water. "Would you hate it if I said I thought about your jobs a lot?"

"Depends what parts of them you think of?"

Roberto snorts. "Hmmm, let me think."

Duncan is quiet for a moment. "The watching?"

"I could watch you do anything," Roberto sighs.

"Mostly killing."

"I do like that," he hums.

"What else would you like to watch me do?"

"What are my options?"

"I thought you were telling me daydreams."

Roberto takes a breath. "I suppose so. Sometimes you're in a fancy bar, in a suit. Sometimes you're covered in blood." He noses at his shoulder and sighs. "Sometimes both."

"I see." Duncan curls an arm around him. "Do you ever participate?"

"Sometimes."

"What do you do?"

Roberto bites his lip. "I make a mess."

Duncan chuckles. "Sounds about right." His fingers play down Roberto's shoulder. "What do you use to make the mess?"

"A knife," Roberto hums.

"And what do you do with the mess after?"

Roberto hums. "In my daydreams? Nothing." He sighs; bites his lip. "Well. Excepting ones where you're watching me."

Duncan strokes slowly over his skin. "Tell me about that."

"Sometimes my hands are bloody, and I put them in your hair, on your face - god, it sounds trite out loud."

"Do you really think so, or do you think I do?"

"Do you?"

"I think it's something I'd like to see," Duncan murmurs.

Roberto huffs out a breath. "Don't tease me. You're not like me - you don't like your job. You're just good at it."

Duncan sighs, fingers still making circles. "I don't hate it though." He adds, "and I like you."

Roberto tries not to see what he sees in most others who have tried to love him 'for what he is' - placation. "Duncan," he whispers.

"What, Roberto?"

"I don't want to be tolerated."

He feels Duncan take a breath. "I don't, Berto."

"Don't what?"

"I don't tolerate you. I tolerate nearly everyone else. Not you."

Roberto sighs, following a scar on Duncan's ribs absently. "Not for now."

Duncan cups his cheek. "Not you," he repeats.

He lets his breath shake out; considers his feelings. Not classic insecurity, but anticipating disappointment, he thinks. "I want more," Roberto murmurs.

"More?" Duncan touches a strand of his hair.

"More than knowing I'm tolerated." Roberto turns his face away.

Duncan catches his chin and pulls him gently back. "You think you'd be here if I just tolerated you?"

"How long will it take, though? I'm...me."

"And I'm me. I thought we'd already established we were in the rare position of not having to navigate usual social barriers." He pauses. "Unless I misunderstood..."

"In what way?" Roberto raises a contentious eyebrow.

"I never gave you a chance to choose me."

Thoughtful, Roberto props his chin on his shoulder again. "Because of how we met? You really think I'm afraid of you?"

"Aren't you?"

"Christ, no. I've gotten myself a new identity and vanished before, I could do it again if I was sick of you."

He can see how Duncan smiles at that. It's not a happy smile. Their gazes catch, and both their smiles fade.

"I like being with you, Duncan," Roberto whispers, "you're the most thrilling thing that's happened to me."

"I feel the same."

"I don't know if I can feel things the same way other people do," Roberto admits quietly, "but I feel good things when we're together."

"That's good enough for me."

"Tolerable?" Roberto raises his brows.

"Thrilling," Duncan corrects softly.

"That's good."

"It is." His hand settles soft on Roberto's side. They angle toward one another, and Roberto splays his legs over Duncan's with a hum. Duncan's hand goes to his thigh.

"This is nice," Roberto purrs.

"It is."

Roberto props his arm on the lip of the tub and pillows his cheek against it, watching Duncan, lit in cool blues, stark shadows. He's beautiful like this. As beautiful as he was while he was fucking Roberto to incoherency earlier. He's always beautiful.

"Are you thinking about my daydreams?" he whispers.

"I am," Duncan rumbles.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"How beautiful you would be."

"Mm? How beautiful would I be?"

"Like a vengeful young god," Duncan murmurs.

Roberto beams. "Or goddess."

"Either. Both." Duncan's dark eyes devour him. He curls an arm around Roberto and pulls him closer still. "Meeting you -" Duncan pauses for a long time, and Roberto bites his cheek. "Felt a little like fate. Maybe that's why I just watched, before now."

"Fate," Roberto repeats, but he can't make it quite as scathing as he wants to.

"Not my favorite concept," Duncan grumbles.

"Mine neither."

Duncan shrugs. "Can't he helped sometimes." He seems, despite everything, very resigned to accepting it as such.

"You should kiss me now," Roberto whispers.

Duncan slips a hand into his hair immediately. The kiss is hot and sharp. He can tell he has Duncan's full attention, and his attention is a heavy thing. His hands feel equally heavy, though they're gentle. And, Roberto knows, he's not a typically gentle man.

Not that he's not capable. It makes Roberto think of his own hands; how hard it was to be ungentle, when he had to be. How he'd made it worth it. He can do anything. He can do this. He lets his nails bite in.

Duncan pulls him into his lap. His thighs bracket Duncan's waist.

"That's better," Roberto purrs. Where Duncan is concerned, he's insatiable.

He's sure he's not the only one. Duncan kisses him again, mouth hungry. His hands smooth up his back, then back down, thumbs settling in the dimples at the base.

"I like it up here," Roberto whispers, "feels like we're the only ones."

"In the hotel?"

"On the roof."

"We are," Duncan murmurs.

Roberto can't help but start to laugh. Duncan pinches his side.

"I meant - metaphorically, Duncan."

"I don't do metaphor."

"I see that." Roberto strokes his hair back. "I'd rather you do me anyway."

Duncan's turn to snort this time. "Didn't I just?"

"Well, if you're too tired...."

Duncan hitches him closer by the waist. He kisses him again hard. Roberto helpfully rolls his hips.

"You know, I could be the one doing the doing, if you want."

Duncan shivers under his hands. It's a lovely feeling. He avoids Roberto's gaze for a moment, more avoiding his own reaction than Roberto's, he thinks. God, it makes Roberto want to do filthy things.

"Come on," he purrs, "What do you think?"

"I want that," he whispers.

"Yeah?" He doesn't want to push him.

"You know just what I like," Duncan mutters.

"I still like it when you tell me."

"God, Berto. Fill me up," he whispers.

"Fuck," Roberto whispers, cupping his cheeks. He kisses him to reward him for that phrase. "Wanna swim first?"

"All right," Duncan murmurs. He kisses Roberto again, and they step out of the hot tub slowly. They're both hard, and it's completely obvious what they've been doing...but luckily they're still alone. Roberto primly adjusts his shorts and lets the cool shock of the pool water calm him down.

Slightly, that is. Duncan diving in neat and streamlined does anything but. Roberto can't help it; competence turns him on. Competence, and Duncan's wet chest hair. Sadly, it appears he has a type. And that type is lethal older men, apparently.

He watches Duncan swim across the pool and spurs himself into motion to catch up. Duncan turns faultlessly when he's within arm's reach and encircles him. "Roberto."

"Yeah, Daddy," he drawls.

Duncan looks thoughtful now, slightly intrigued. "My colleague... she did a background check on you, you know. There wasn't much to check."

Roberto raises an eyebrow. "Is this meant to turn me on?"

"No?"

"Then get to the point, gorgeous."

Duncan looks down, away. "I have been thinking about you a lot. I think maybe I thought about you so much I started to assume things, and then in turn I felt like I knew things."

"Like what, Duncan."

"About why you went to prison, and what you do when you're alone."

"Is this you asking me those questions, then?"

"Can I ask them?"

Roberto considers. "Yes," he says, finally, softly. "Which one would you like to ask first?"

"What do you do when you're not working?"

"Drink, mostly," Roberto muses.

"What else?"

"Read."

"Texts? Letters? Fraudulent documents?"

Roberto snorts. "All of the above?" Duncan sighs, albeit patiently. "I'm not sure what you'd like me to admit," Roberto tells him.

"Just what you read."

"I like history books," Roberto murmurs. He bites his lip. "Specifically, Roman and Grecian history, but I have been known to dabble in art history and - occasionally - renaissance art." He grins. "Not what you expected?"

"Not exactly," Duncan muses.

"I'm a surprising person."

"Yes. You are." Duncan's fingers caress his shoulders.

"Same question to you."

"About what I do when I'm home?"

"Yes, Duncan."

Duncan closes his eyes for a moment, clearly thinking. "I watch movies, and I read too. Work out."

A reflexive once-over, at that. Duncan certainly does. "What kind of movies do you like?"

Duncan chuckles. "Old movies. Black and white. Detectives and such."

Roberto can't help but smile. "Of course."

"I like documentaries too," Duncan allows, tilting his head thoughtfully.

Roberto's smile sneaks out without his permission. "So serious."

"I'm a serious man."

Oh, Roberto knows. And he likes it.

"Prison," Duncan says then, quietly, "I wanted to ask about that too."

"Well, I wasn't there long. Long enough. What do you want to know, Duncan?"

"I wanted to ask about a man who died while you were in there. The man whose accomplice you were tried as."

"You have been snooping," Roberto murmurs.

"Connecting."

Roberto gives him a level look. "So, what do you want to ask?"

"I want to ask if you got messy."

Roberto can't quite catch his breath. Duncan keeps him close, expression open, intense, evaluating. "I got -" Roberto finally takes that breath, "very messy."

Just the barest touch of his tongue against his lower lip as a reaction, but it's enough. Duncan nods, and then strokes a hand back through Roberto's wet curls. "Did it feel good?"

Eyes flickering shut against the touch, Roberto sighs. "It didn't feel like - it wasn't like that... I had to."

"Why do you say that?" Duncan's voice is a purr in his ear.

Roberto takes a breath. "Lots of factors. He was involved with people he shouldn't have been before he got locked up, and they weren't happy with his conduct," he noses at Duncan, "and they offered... to help me out."

"Help you out how?"

"I told you how I got out of jail."

"You said the case got thrown out. These people made that happen?"

Roberto nods. "I didn't do what I was convicted of, but my boss made sure blame stuck to us all. I was... happy to solve their problem. Prison isn't a good place for people like me."

"Why's that, Roberto?" Duncan murmurs.

Roberto tilts his head. "You know why. No one ever touched me, but not for lack of trying." He sees the flicker of violence cross Duncan's face. "Don't worry," he whispers, "they were sorry. It was so easy," he adds under his breath, "when I was in there."

"Different codes to out here," Duncan agrees quietly.

"I could do whatever I wanted."

"You still can."

"It's more dangerous out here. To do what I want."

"Not with me."

Roberto smiles slowly. "I know." He leans in to kiss him slowly. God, he knows. Duncan is a constant temptation. In more ways than one.

His hands smooth up Roberto's back again like they always do, like he's evincing every bone in his back. Roberto feels, like he always does, mapped out, explored. Admired in every way. Cherished, he thinks.

"How do you feel about me now, Duncan? What're you thinking?"

"That you're breathtaking."

"You've got very bad taste, Daddy," Roberto purrs.

"Yours is worse."

"Mm, god yeah. Ready to go downstairs?"

"Yes," Duncan murmurs.

Roberto kisses him, and then they both move for the steps. Duncan makes a disappointed noise when Roberto puts his robe back on.

"You can take it off in a minute," Roberto assures. He lets his hips swagger gently as they walk back to the lift. He's going to enjoy this.

When they're showered off and cleaned up, he goes to the mini bar to open a bottle of champagne, humming to himself. Duncan lounges on the sofa in the sitting area, wearing his robe again, loosely tied at the waist. He looks entirely delicious. His mat of silvery chest hair is framed by the open lapels. His hair hangs in his face, slivering at the temples, his eyes darkly satisfied. Roberto thinks it's just at the sight of him. He can appreciate that - and the view. Roberto has never minded being looked at. But no one does it like Duncan.

He brings Duncan his drink, and tilts his head toward the bedroom.

"Come on Daddy. Thought about what you want?"

Duncan takes both a breath and a sip of champagne. "I have."

"Tell me?" He holds the drink just out of his reach to lure him up.

"I was imagining..." he trails off and sighs.

Roberto beckons him. "Come on. Get comfy. Tell me."

Duncan stands, snagging Roberto by the waist. "You," he mutters, "curled up behind me, making me take your cock."

"Fuck," Roberto sighs, "sounds good." He leans into Duncan for a moment. "Am I stern or am I sweet?"

"You're however you want to be."

Roberto hums. "What if I want both?"

"Then be both." Duncan looks down at him with soft dark eyes.

"Mm." Roberto kisses him softly. "Okay. Go lie down."

Duncan goes. His robe drops to the floor just inside the bedroom. Roberto picks up the champagne bottle to follow. He's greeted by the sight of a completely bare Duncan, curled on his side in the middle of the big bed. He shivers, the fondness rising in the back of his throat like a knot at the way he tries to look casual; calm.

"Tell me how much you want me," he whispers.

Duncan wets his lips. "I'm not good at telling."

"Try. For me." He goes when Duncan reaches for him, lying down beside him. It's so good to curl around his back, to feel his muscular warmth. He noses into the damp hair at his nape with a sigh. "Is Daddy waiting for his boy?" he purrs.

"Of course," Duncan whispers. As always, he sounds half embarrassed.

Roberto gives him another nuzzle. He lets a palm slide down Duncan's flank. Duncan makes a soft noise and pulls his knee towards his chest.

"Such a good boy for me, Daddy," Roberto muses, fingers teasing over his hip.

"Maybe you shouldn't call me that," Duncan mutters.

"Which? Daddy? Or a good boy?"

"Either."

"You don't like it?"

"I can't be both at the same time, can I?"

"Of course you can. Because I say so," Roberto murmurs.

Duncan tips his cheek to look at him. "Oh?"

"You let me take care of you, mm?"

"Of course, darling," Duncan murmurs.

Roberto cups his hip and strips off his own robe, pressing them skin-to-skin. "I'll be so good, Daddy," he whispers.

"You always are." Duncan sounds desperately fond. Roberto has to kiss him. He pulls on a handful of hair to tilt his face back.

"Would you like my fingers first, Daddy?"

"Yes," Duncan growls.

"I thought you might." He's going to make this so good.

Reaching for supplies, Roberto keeps himself close as he can. He kisses over strong shoulders. Soothes Duncan with his hands before he slicks his fingers, curling one arm under his neck as he settles close. Duncan's back arches, pushing his hips back into questing fingers.

"Good, that's good," Roberto whispers, stroking down his cleft, over his hole. He teases over the skin, slow circling fingertips. Duncan gasps and arches. "Yes, you like me touching you there," Roberto murmurs.

"Roberto," Duncan murmurs, halfhearted protest.

Roberto just smiles, tucked away in his shoulder. "All right."

He teases in with the tip of the first. He knows that Duncan won't make a sound, and he's determined to draw them out. Otherwise, what would be the point? He wants them more then he wants nearly anything else.

He nuzzles behind Duncan's ear and starts to stroke in deeper. Just to touch, at first. To hear his breath change. Which it does. Slower, deeper, as he works to stay even.

"Mm? That okay?" Roberto asks, turning his wrist and stroking down and in with the pad of his finger.

"Yes," Duncan mutters.

Roberto cups his stomach; feels the way it tightens as he strokes deeper. "Good," he croons. Duncan gasps softly. "You feel good inside," he adds.

"Roberto..."

"Tell me, Daddy."

"More," Duncan says, voice strained.

Roberto gives Duncan's prostate a stroke in reply. Then he eases back to press in another finger slowly. That gets him an audible breath.

"That was pretty." He kisses Duncan's shoulder again. "Another one, mm?"

He doesn't pause, just presses in with three. It takes more effort this time and he spends a few moments gently working him more relaxed. Finally, Duncan lets out a harsh breath. Roberto has him where he wants him now. He turns his fingers and sighs.

"I brought toys, you know, if you want, y'know. To play a little."

"Maybe tomorrow," Duncan mutters.

"Just want me tonight, hmm?"

"Yes, Berto," Duncan whispers.

"Good. Good." Roberto angles his hand and fucks in sharply a few times with his fingers. Duncan moans, soft and choked but unmistakable. "Oh," Roberto closes his eyes and repeats it, "that's it, Daddy."

He can feel the pleasure coming off of him in waves, just from the bare shake in his core.

"You feel so good," he whispers. "Am I making you feel good?"

"Yes," Duncan grits.

He smiles to himself. Fucks him slower and deeper and feels him tensing and arching against him. "Good." He teases his prostate again, just a light touch but Duncan reacts with a full-body shiver. "That's pretty," Roberto whispers, "that's it."

He lets his free hand go soothing and presses a kiss behind Duncan's ear as he strokes deeper. When he feels that shake again, he pauses.

"Okay?"

"You," Duncan murmurs. "Give me you."

Roberto drives his fingers in deep, triggering slick sounds, and nods. He kisses the back of his shoulder and withdraws his fingers. He's dying to tease him more, but it seems wrong when he's being so forthcoming. Maybe later. There's time.

He slicks up with lube, murmuring to Duncan as he moves. Duncan stays so obediently still. When Roberto settles again, supporting thigh flush to Duncan's, he presses back into him.

It's an easy slide. Slow, though, and tight. It feels outrageously good. Duncan grasps back at him and Roberto wraps over his back. Slowly, achingly, he seats himself entirely inside, hips flush to Duncan's.

"Yeah, Daddy, you're so hot, and strong." He splays his palm against Duncan's belly as he pulls back, hearing his gasp. Then he starts to thrust.

He goes slow at first, feeling out Duncan's responses; his limits. Feeling out his own. He wraps his free hand over Duncan's side to seek out his cock, finding him hard, arching.

"Oh, Daddy, that's nice."

Duncan grunts faintly in agreement, and only a few long strokes get him gasping; bearing unmistakably back as Roberto grins.

"Perfect." He rocks forward again faster. The heat and clench he feels are just right and Duncan is groaning low and steady. Roberto's own breath is panting. He keeps his movements steady, rocking smoothly. He can drive this wherever it needs to go, for Duncan. God, and it feels good. He has Duncan wrapped up and straining to get even closer.

When Roberto drives forward with more force, he groans. "Again," he gasps.

"Yes, Daddy." He croons it, ever more breathless as he keeps moving. Duncan's grip on his hip is like iron. The arch of his spine is so satisfying. With gentle angling, Roberto gets a hand under Duncan's knee and lifts, starting to snap into the squeezing heat of his body faster. He knows it won't take much. But he wants to give him as much as he can, for as long as he can.

He's awash in sensations of his own making. Holding Duncan, being inside him, it's more than he imagined. He's feeling unfamiliar things. Not uncommon, around this guy. Still new.

His noises are coming more frequently now. Roberto makes a low, satisfied noise of his own. "Perfect," he praises gently. Duncan is everything he could hope for. Everything everyone else lacked. Roberto just doesn't know how to make him believe it. He buries his face Duncan's shoulder at the thought and groans. "Oh, Daddy, I love this."

Duncan's eyes are hazy when he looks back, cheeks flushed. He doesn't seem to be able to find words, so he just nods. Roberto strains to kiss him. Clutches him close and tastes his noises as he moves faster.

They're getting sweaty, skin sticking and slipping both. It's the perfect cusp of movement, not just chasing but savoring. Roberto feels a coiling inside himself, but holds back. He reaches for Duncan's cock and finds him stroking himself already, the realization hitting him like a bolt of lightning.

"Duncan, God..."

He groans in response, strokes faster, clenching when Roberto grinds deeper into him. The slap of their skin is an earthy sound. Duncan's breaths are wet and ragged; an edge of sweet need. Roberto feels it too; tiny claws in his skin.

"God, you're perfect," he tells Duncan, kissing his shoulder softly again.

Duncan makes a low, urgent noise. Roberto bucks forward into his lovely, hot, tight squeeze. Duncan chokes a bit, still twisted back to breathe Roberto's air, hand hovering near his hair, the tension in his thigh making his foot arc. "So - good -" He exhales sharply. "Roberto-"

"So good, Daddy." Roberto kisses him, a messy smear of lips and stubble. "Gonna come for me, mm?"

Duncan groans again. "Yes."

Roberto gives him more, faster, feeling him tremble. Feeling him arch and freeze. And then he's squeezing and gasping, hand moving fast and slick as he comes.

Roberto gasps too, moans a few soft curses into Duncan's neck and rocks a couple of times before he eases back, wary of pushing him. But Duncan grasps for him immediately. Roberto stills.

"Don't go," Duncan mumbles.

"I just didn't want to hurt you," Roberto soothes, wrapping his arms securely around Duncan's chest, pressing fully against him, into him, holding. Duncan rumbles his approval. Squirming only faintly, Roberto settles, kissing his neck softly. He keeps working his hips, slowly now. Duncan's stomach shakes under his hand. "Sweetheart," Roberto breathes.

"Nm?" Duncan clasps his hand gently over Roberto's own.

"Do you want me to move..."

Silent consideration, and then Duncan lets Roberto slip out. "Come back," he says when it takes longer than a moment.

Laughing, Roberto lies on top of him where he's rolled onto his back now. "Trust me, I'm not done with you yet."

"Good," Duncan murmurs. He accepts a long kiss; Roberto rocking lazily into the crease of his thigh, smearing wetness between their bellies from Duncan's skin.

He moans happily. Duncan's hands settle on his ass, keeping him close. That's even better.

"Fuck," Roberto hisses, "you felt so good around my cock."

"Good," Duncan croons. He's kissing Roberto's neck and jaw, more relaxed than Roberto has seen him. Roberto keeps rubbing their hips until Duncan pushes a hand between them.

"Oh, yeah," he mutters, kissing his cheek. Duncan grunts his approval.

"Come," he urges, stroking quickly. Roberto pushes his face into his neck with a soft groan.

His hands are rough and strong and insistent. It's easy to buck into the squeeze. He can let himself go now. And he does, gasping and clutching at Duncan's shoulders. So strong.

He pants against his throat, slowly slumping down against him. Duncan doesn't say a word of complaint. In fact, he holds him tighter. Roberto closes his eyes and pretends that his slowly drying come is something even messier.

Duncan's hand soothes through his hair. He kisses his neck in response.

"Tired?" Duncan whispers.

"Are you?"

"Yes," he smiles, then kisses Roberto's forehead. "It's late. Or early, depending on how you look at it."

"I look at it like, we're in bed and we should sleep now."

"Yes, very good." Duncan reaches for one of the towels they discarded before to clean them both up lazily. Roberto doesn't need to move a bit. Exhaustion settles over him like the cool sheets Duncan pulls over them both. He's so blissful. Duncan's warm, heavy arm over his waist is too. He sleeps almost immediately.

The sun's heat feels nearly solid against Roberto's bare front where he's twisted in the pale sheets. He's half awake, all together aware of Duncan against his back. Duncan is sleeping as soundly as Roberto has ever seen him. It's not exactly making him want to move. He twists even so, leaning to kiss at his cheek. He just wants to keep skin on skin. Duncan is so deliciously furry. He's hot as a coal, soft against Roberto where usually he's so tense. It feels like an immense privilege to see him so at ease.

Duncan trusts him. The thought makes Roberto twist carefully in his arms. He kisses at his cheek again, lips traveling over stubble to find his soft mouth.

Duncan's wide, broad palm smooths up his side. There he is, waking up finally. His lips move against Roberto's, puckering with a soft "Berto-"

"Hi Daddy," Roberto whispers. Then he's wrapped up in thickly muscled arms and grinning about it.

"You slept okay?"

"Me? Yeah, it was great. Think it was the swim, or the shower? Or - something else?"

"Maybe all of it."

Roberto laughs. So matter-of-fact. "Maybe you're right."

"What's next? Besides breakfast."

"Shower?" Roberto says hopefully. "Long one."

"If you like," Duncan murmurs. "I'll order breakfast."

"Yes please." Roberto kisses him again. "Extra meat," he says teasingly, and slides out of bed. He hears Duncan snort. Good, that's what he was going for.

In the bathroom, he turns on the shower and waits. He doesn't expect to be waiting long. Sure enough, a knock around softly on the bathroom door after a minute or so.

"Come in, Duncan," he purrs.

"I asked them to send it up in about an hour."

"So smart." Roberto grins and beckons him closer. They're both still unapologetically nude, though Duncan wears his scars.

Roberto loves to look at them. He reaches to trace one when they're under the water, following it with his pointer, still pink and raised.

"You're always getting new ones."

"Perk of the job," Duncan says, accent softening the words in odd places.

"Bad for business, in mine."

"You're your own best asset."

"You know it." Roberto grins at that. "I'm your best asset, too."

"You're my most attractive one, this is true."

"Show me," Roberto purrs. He's pleased when Duncan backs him into the tiles and pulls their mouths together. It's intense and relentless all at once. He's not passive in the least today. He's fierce want, hungry and demanding, still perfectly gentle. It's not something Roberto is used to.

He thinks back to yesterday; the way Duncan had seemed to hold him while they fucked. Like he's missed him. The thought startles Roberto a little. His clients all think they miss him, of course. But... it isn't normally mutual.

He thinks that's what this feeling is. It makes him a little breathless to acknowledge it. But right now he has Duncan's warm mouth and hands to think about. He likes both very much. He can make them both enjoy the next hour.

"Breakfast time," he says softly, leaning in to kiss Duncan's throat. It's still glistening with damp from the shower.

He follows the trail of water down to his chest; down his belly. He can feel Duncan watching him. He glances up to meet his gaze; grins wide.

"Don't be too gentle with me this time, okay?" He settles on his knees, rubbing his cheek against Duncan's hip slowly.

"Anything you want," Duncan rumbles.

"I want to choke on you," Roberto tells him, simply. "And I want it now."

"Nothing stopping you," Duncan says, with a faint smirk.

Oh, so that's how it is this morning, Roberto thinks. He takes Duncan in hand and strokes languidly, nodding. He'll start just like this, before he's hard.

He leans in and rubs his lips against the head, tongue just skimming against the warm skin. So soft. So sensitive. The spray of water keeps him from looking up too much. But he can hear Duncan's breathing, soft and hitching. He licks and sucks as he swells.

He can't help a little moan as he takes him into his mouth and sucks. He teases them both by taking him in deep for just a moment. Duncan's hand twitches toward his cheek, but then Roberto pulls back, breathing hard.

"I said don't be gentle."

"All right." Duncan lets his fingers slip into the wet strands of his hair. "I won't."

His fingers tighten, and his other thumb hooks behind Roberto's bottom teeth. He strokes his tongue until Roberto softly sucks.

"Open up for me," Duncan orders.

With a hot little drop of shock running down his chest, Roberto does, breath already coming a little fast. Duncan is still holding his jaw slack, and he lines up and presses in fast. Roberto tips his chin to make room for him; swallows fast and reactive against the weight of him on his tongue. His other hand fists in Roberto's fringe. He pulls Roberto deeper onto his cock with a low grunt.

Good, this is good. It feels perfect. He can picture Duncan like this, with any number of interchangeable beautiful bodies. But he isn't. He's here with Roberto. He wants Roberto, and he can feel it with his whole body.

It makes him try harder for him, even as tears spring to his eyes to mingle with the spray trickling down his face. Duncan cups his jaw gently, easing back.

"That's enough, I think."

"No- no," Roberto whines faintly. "I need more."

Duncan's lip twitches at that, a visible reining in of his instincts.

"Please, Duncan," he begs.

"Roberto..." he strokes his hair, nearly rough.

"Just let me make you come. Just this time."

"You always make me come," Duncan says quietly, "better than anyone ever has."

"Oh, Daddy -" Roberto chokes a little on his sigh.

"Come on up," Duncan whispers, "let me feel you."

His hand curves around Roberto's flushed cheek. Slowly, Roberto rises. He can't quite look away.

Duncan's hand strokes his jaw, his other arm cinching him in against his body. It feels so good to be held so close. Duncan kisses him slowly. He's not particularly gentle though. Roberto has never wanted to be so firmly held. With Duncan it's different.

"Duncan," he breathes, voice weak at the realization. He really is his boy. Girl. Whatever he is, he's Duncan's.

"Later," Duncan murmurs. "Let's just wait."

A soft whine escapes him at that. "But I want to get you off-"

He feels the softening in the arms around him. "You don't have to do that, to be worth the rate. I'm happy for your company, as well."

It's all he really asked for, Roberto remembers. Company. He's still feeling a bit delicate about the realization. "You don't want-?"

"I do. But - it's not all I need."

Roberto feels a strange urge and realizes - he thinks it means he wants to apologize. "I didn't mean to press you-"

"No," Duncan says quickly, "it's - it's fine. Just be here with me," he adds.

"I am," Roberto nods quickly, "I will."

He leans into Duncan's warmth. They stay close under the spray, quiet and still. Eventually Roberto moves to soap them both and Duncan lets him. He keeps his hands on Roberto too, light and casually possessive. And when Roberto sneaks a glance, he thinks he's smiling slightly.

"What shall we do today?" Roberto asks softly.

"Anything you like," Duncan replies.

"I want to know what you'd like, too."

"Shall I take you shopping?" Duncan murmurs, obediently dipping his head so Roberto can rinse it.

That makes Roberto blush a little: it's an entirely different proposition coming from someone like Duncan. Duncan isn't showing off. He just wants to. So Roberto wants to as well.

"Shopping, huh?" He touches coyly at Duncan's chest; another silver scar.

"If you like."

"I think I do." He remembers how it felt to be taken out to a restaurant, even if he'd quickly taken over the conversation with his fantasies, Duncan had liked it. He'd liked seeing Roberto get what he wanted. And he'd liked giving it to him. "Shopping where?"

"Is there anything you couldn't quite fit in that luggage of yours?" Duncan teases dryly.

"You can buy me another suitcase."

That gets a snort out of him. "Good point." He pauses, stroking through wet curls. "Any new toys you have your eye on?"

"What, sex toys?" Roberto laughs. "You missed my bag of tricks, didn't you."

"It's more the person wielding them." His eyes glow darkly.

"Is that so." Roberto tilts his chin, making his neck long.

"It is," Duncan nuzzles obligingly.

"I am very good at wielding, it has to be said."

"And agreed with."

"I bet you're not bad either."

Duncan shrugs, but he's still smiling.

"Kiss me," Roberto murmurs. He turns his face up expectantly.

Duncan does as he's bid with a smile. Roberto smiles as he's tickled by the edges of his mustache. He's kind of into it, all told. He'd like to feel it elsewhere, but Duncan... asked to slow down. Later, he thinks. He can wait. He can give his man what he wants.

"Come on," he whispers, "let's get breakfast."

Duncan kisses him again first. "All right."

They disentangle, and eventually they both migrate to the balcony, wearing soft robes in the morning sun. When their breakfast arrives, Roberto pours them both big cups of coffee. He knows Duncan won't eat much left on his own, so he fills his plate too.

"Thank you," Duncan says, albeit sounding a little nonplussed.

"You're welcome." Roberto is starving. Blue balls will do that to you. The food is incredible, too. This is quite a nice set up. "Do you never worry about it being conspicuous, living like this?"

"I have safe places where I go when I must," Duncan murmurs. "It's certainly not full time."

"I imagine that would be unwise."

"You'd be amazed how little attention gets paid to the wealthy."

Roberto raises a brow. "Me and mine pay plenty of attention."

"Not in the way you should."

"How should we?" Roberto asks, curious.

"You can't afford to. Your line of work relies on moral ambiguity."

"True enough."

He watches Duncan prodding his food around, endlessly intrigued. Duncan's moral compass is just as askew as Roberto's, and it's times like this that he realizes it. It's odd to feel... the same as someone. Able to relate and anticipate, to a degree. Never completely, but - perhaps that is what makes things interesting.

"Can I ask you things about you?" Roberto asks, quietly.

"Of course." Duncan sounds surprised.

"Where are you from?"

"The slums of a dying city," Duncan murmurs after a pause.

Roberto tilts his head at that. "I'm assuming Eastern Bloc, but you don't have to tell me."

Duncan shrugs noncommittally. Roberto is less irritated than he thought he might be.

"Is Duncan Vizla even your real name?"

"It's as real as the bank accounts need it to be."

"So not very."

"I chose it, does that make it more real?"

"As real as 'Roberto Bellini', I suppose." He grins.

"You feel real enough to me."

"I am real for you." He means it.

Duncan smiles at him, seeming perplexed and pleased at once. And... hopeful, he thinks. "For me."

"Only for you," Roberto murmurs. He means that too.

They're quiet for a moment longer, and then Duncan reaches and squeezes his hand.

"Finish your breakfast," he rumbles, "I'll call for the car when we're done." He picks up his coffee cup and his phone again, but it's not dismissive.

Roberto just smiles and pours himself a little more coffee, too. He's enjoying this all.

He's still enjoying it when he gets out of the car an hour or so later. It's a beautiful day, and Duncan is both handsome and attentive. And herding Roberto around like some kind of bodyguard, too. Like he's someone awfully important. And it's clever, too. It means all eyes are on Roberto and not the tall man in the dark suit.

"All right, Daddy," he murmurs, "where to first?"

"Jewelers Row," Duncan replies promptly.

A flush starts to creep its way up Roberto's neck, shameless as he is. "Duncan-"

"Yes?"

"I don't know what you're thinking but -"

"I'm thinking whatever you want."

"I could want a tiara," Roberto snarks.

"Then you can have one."

It's no fun when he can't get Duncan to lose his cool. He'll have to make sure the next stop is somewhere seedy. It occurs to him he might have his work cut out for him. But why complain when the work is so enjoyable? He can't help his grin as Duncan herds him through the bustle, indifferent to the curious looks.

The hands on his waist are warm and strong. Roberto is decidedly pleased with this little fantasy world they've stumbled into. They amble down the street, Duncan being patient with his window shopping. So many things catch his eye, and he's entirely unrepentant in which he openly scrutinizes.

Eventually he points to something in a velvet-lined case; a simple cuff bracelet, though he knows it to be platinum and quite expensive.

"Let's go in and try it."

Duncan asks quietly, once he's got it on, whether he likes it.

"It reminds me of you," Roberto replies.

Stunned silence at that, like Duncan didn't know anyone could want that association. He looks like he wants to ask why, but he doesn't. Roberto would explain if he wanted.

"Handcuffs?" Duncan jokes, finally.

Roberto smirks. Duncan just looks pleased to have made him laugh. He looks to the hovering assistant and nods. Money is exchanged. Roberto keeps the cuff on. The street seems sunnier when they step back out.

Duncan seems to be wearing that smile, the one that wouldn't be a smile to anyone else. But Roberto can feel the weight of it, like the curve of his hand around his waist. They walk a while longer, stopping in a department store to purchase an unreasonable amount of make-up and a dress Duncan eyes for longer than strictly necessary. Roberto applies his new lipstick, candy apple red, in the reflection of a car window outside. He likes the way Duncan’s gaze drifts back to his mouth time and time again.

It turns to meandering again, until Roberto is snagged by an elegant window display of shoes. Handmade leather boots with a pointed toe and heel like a blade. He looks at Duncan, and raises an eyebrow, smiling.

Duncan briefly raises his eyes heavenward. They go inside. Roberto comes back out with two bags. One contains stockings he hadn't been able to resist.

Roberto didn't grow up with money, despite appearances. He's always enjoyed spending other people's more than his own. This is the entire point of this excursion, anyway. Well... mostly. Duncan raises an eyebrow when Roberto flags down a taxi and gives them an address he'd found on his phone. Again, he doesn't ask, but he seems mildly apprehensive now. It's cute, unfortunately. Roberto has developed a soft spot, which is entirely out of character.

"Control freak," he observes, fondly.

That gives him an idea about what to look for in the shop they're going to, actually.

Duncan just shakes his head. He lets Roberto cuddle up to him in the cab. He still seems faintly surprised he wants to. He can join the club.

"We bought so many presents for me," Roberto whispers, "I thought maybe I could pick some things for Daddy."

"Why do I sense that most of them will still be presents for you, Roberto?"

"You're cursed with a suspicious mind."

"Indeed."

Roberto kisses softly under his jaw. "Love that mind."

Duncan puts an arm around him, seemingly just to quieten him down. Roberto will allow it. He can show without telling. He might prefer it, overall. Duncan certainly will.

Roberto is already picturing their evening. The thought makes him smile. He cuddles closer.

When they get to their stop, he watches Duncan scan the surroundings. They're both familiar with neighborhoods like these. Duncan looks at him expectantly, and Roberto doesn't miss the way he checks beneath his jacket, but he ushers him out of the taxi just the same.

"Where did you have in mind?"

"In here," Roberto points, ushering him past the bright neon of a peep show and into a rather more subdued shop.

He sees Duncan relax: familiar territory.

"Go look around, Daddy," he murmurs.

"What am I looking for?"

"Anything you think looks intriguing. This is your present."

Duncan shifts nervously. "Yes, I know."

"So look. Unless you want me to pick."

Duncan's cheeks bloom ever so slightly. Roberto is immediately attentive to it. He cuddles close. He likes him like this, awkward and willing. He likes him all different ways. Duncan currently looks like he's physically battling against the typical response to this sort of environment.

"You all right, Daddy?"

"Fine," Duncan says. He steers Roberto to a shelf, seemingly at random. They both eye the wall of boxes.

"I brought a few of these," Roberto hums, though he inspects the dildoes carefully.

"Is that so."

"Yes, it is."

Duncan seems to make himself say, "So you have recommendations?"

Roberto hums and wanders to the next shelf. "One or two."

"Tell me."

"Well, there's always something to be said for a good old fashioned vibrator." He pats a box illustratively.

He watches Duncan's lips part. "Oh?"

"Look, this one has a remote controller." Roberto grins.

"It's big though. The one we used was just a plug wasn't it?"

"They come in different sizes, Daddy. For when gi- ...boys like me are feeling greedy."

Duncan's discomfort is only betrayed by the bob of his larynx as he swallows. That settles it, they're buying it. Roberto picks up the box and moves on.

Duncan follows, a warm shadow. Roberto stops to look at another display, smiling to himself when he feels Duncan drift toward another, albeit cautiously. He hangs back enough to watch. Duncan is carefully contained, just peering. It's a display of different types of nipple clamps.

"What do you think?" he asks slyly.

"Pick out a pair you like," Duncan murmurs.

Roberto grins at him. "For me, or you?"

"Whichever," Duncan rumbles.

Roberto preens softly. "You'd suit them."

"If you think so," Duncan murmurs.

Roberto has to reward him with a kiss. At least the shopkeeper isn't likely to kick them out for it. Not here. He's not convinced anyone could kick Duncan out of anywhere. He thinks he'd love to see them try.

"Pick," he urges.

He watches Duncan's fingers trace the packages, delicate and scarred. He picks a fairly plain pair, all things told. It seems unspoken between them that this is more a game than a declaration of intent. Roberto wonders how hard it would be to talk him into piercings instead.

Duncan is watching his face intently, so maybe his scheming shows.

Innocently, Roberto throws a couple more items into the basket – lube, condoms, a disposable ring – and then stacks the two boxes and gestures. "Anything else?"

"You tell me."

"I think not."

"Why not?"

"Wouldn't you rather go back and... enjoy the rest of the day?"

Duncan reaches out and touches his hair gently. "Whatever you want."

He thinks he's teased Duncan enough. He takes his hand gently. "I want you."

"And these?" Duncan looks dubiously at the nipple clamps.

"I know exactly what to do with those."

"That makes one of us."

"I will so enjoy the process of teaching you."

"I'm sure you will."

Roberto gives him another warm look and leads him to the till. He holds out a hand and Duncan wordlessly hands him some cash. He does it with one of those half-smiles. Roberto very much enjoys it. He can tell the cashier does too.

Duncan still looks faintly uncomfortable as they leave. Roberto leans in and presses a soft kiss under his ear.

"Thank you Daddy."

"Roberto," Duncan murmurs.

"Mm?" He nudges him gently.

"Anything for you."

"Yeah? How about lunch?" he suggests.

"If you like."

"I like it when you show me off."

"I like showing you off."

"Well then, let's do it."

With a small smile, Duncan gestures him toward the street. They get in another cab and head to find a place to eat. Roberto fancies a balcony by the water.

By the time they find somewhere suitable, they're both ready for drink. Duncan orders a bottle of champagne. Roberto waits until the server is gone before he looks to Duncan.

"How did you get into this line of work?"

Duncan sighs. "Street crime."

"Oh?"

"I was running contraband at age twelve. Developed a reputation."

"Loose morals, or killing?"

"Not quite that early, darling."

"Will you tell me about the first time?"

"I was fifteen," Duncan murmurs. He shifts; looks around. His champagne flute presents itself at he takes a sip. "He was a rival of my employer, and he was taking too much business."

"He asked you to-?"

"To make the problem go away."

Rapt, Roberto leans forward, stomach jittering with anticipation. "Did he tell you how -"

"No," Duncan shakes his head. "No, I decided that on my own."

Elbows on the table, shoulders forward, Roberto waits.

"Getting a gun was easy, one of his bodyguards helped me." Duncan shrugs. "But he stayed to watch, and I had to take care of that too. I caught someone's eye."

"How?" Roberto murmurs.

"I made it look like they had shot one another up. No one saw me. My age helped make me invisible."

"Smart little thing," Roberto murmurs.

Duncan shrugs a shoulder up. "It seemed agreed from that point on that I was a natural."

"From errand boy to enforcer?" Roberto asks lightly.

"If you like." He takes another sip. "The jobs got bigger from there."

"And then you got a new boss, I'm guessing."

"He crossed someone with more money than him," Duncan shrugs.

"And you got contracted by the man with more money."

"There's always someone with more money, Roberto."

"Trust me, I know that."

"There's someone with more money than me," Duncan murmurs.

"I know that too." He sighs. "I don't care about that."

"No?" Duncan smiles.

"Not with you."

"I imagine that's novel for you."

"It is," says Roberto, unoffended.

Duncan smiles again. "I have enough at least. "

"Just about."

"I'm not quite ready to retire yet," Duncan murmurs.

"I can't imagine many people in your line of work get to live to that age."

"No," Duncan allows.

Roberto tilts his head. "Hope you have a good pension package."

"I do, do you?"

"Not so much."

"Hm. We'll have to work on that."

Roberto smiles at him softly. "Sounds like a long-term contract."

"Does it?"

"What, it doesn't?"

"I hope so, that's how I meant it," Duncan murmurs.

"You just like making me second guess myself."

"I just want you to be sure of what you're doing."

"You think I don't know?"

Duncan looks down at the table, chastened. "No," he admits. "It's just hard to believe," he whispers.

"Why? You think it doesn't benefit me in every way it does you?" Roberto reaches out to touch his arm. Duncan lets him, still and careful. Roberto strokes softly over the fine wool of his jacket. He waits until he relaxes to withdraw. Then he smiles at Duncan. "What do you want for lunch? Should we just order something here?"

"That's what I was thinking, beautiful."

Roberto picks up a menu that's tucked away in the corner of their table. "What looks good?"

"Pasta, I think."

"Sounds good." Roberto touches his arm again, the bare skin of his wrist this time. His fingers tease, tickling gently.

He earns another smile from Duncan. "You're sure there's nothing else you want?"

"Not right now." He winks at Duncan. "Well, nothing that can't wait."

He enjoys the look that puts on Duncan's face. Always so awkward. It's strangely charming. Especially since he's not awkward when it really counts.

Roberto leans to kiss his knuckles at the thought. Duncan touches his hair. They part quickly when a waiter comes to take their order. But the sun is warm, and it doesn't ever feel like they're too far away. Roberto orders for them both, along with more champagne. When the waiter leaves again, he strokes his hand again.

"You keep checking your phone. Did you have something you wanted to tell me, Duncan?"

He watches him consider, then nod. "I've been waiting for a go ahead on the job. I just got it."

"Oh?" Roberto sips his champagne. "Does this mean no afternoon delight?"

"I won't be long," Duncan shrugs. "I can go tonight."

"All right, Daddy." To Roberto, that means he has hours to convince him he wants company. He watches him slyly from behind his glass. "Duncan," he murmurs, dragging the toe of his shoe slowly up and down his pant leg. "Want to play?"

"What's the game?"

"'Do what Berto tells you?'" Roberto suggests.

Duncan smiles at his drink, just a little twitch of his mouth. "I've played this before."

"Yes, it's a crowd-pleaser. Yes or no?"

"Yes." Matter-of-fact, simple.

"Good. Hand me the shopping bag?" Duncan does, watching closely. Roberto reaches in. "Left hand or right hand? Pick one, Duncan."

"Right," Duncan says at once.

Roberto withdraws one wrapped item. "Nipple clamps," he murmurs. "Go put them on."

Duncan's expression becomes - a little lost. "Here?"

"We just ordered lunch. We have some time to kill." Roberto smiles prettily. When Duncan just looks at him a moment longer, he nudges him. "You want me to help you?"

"Yes," Duncan murmurs.

"You can say no if you don't want to do it."

But Roberto knows what Duncan wants, and how terrible he is at asking for it. When he stays silent, Roberto just stands, holding a hand out for him.

"Come on, Daddy."

He goes, leaving their drinks, jackets, and some of the shopping - there are plenty of staff members around with a vested interest in giving them - or at least Duncan - a good experience. Duncan follows him, the package in his hand. When they're in the washroom, thankfully deserted, Roberto locks the door behind them before gently pushing Duncan back against it and skimming up his shirt.

"Now hold still for your boy," he murmurs.

Duncan nods, chest barely hitching on a breath as Roberto leans down to lap softly over a nipple. He does it several times before switching to the other.

"Roberto," Duncan breathes.

"Open the box," Roberto replies. He sucks at his chest again, teeth gently scraping. He takes the little silver clamp Duncan hands him and bites gently at the nub of his nipple and then sucks again before he attaches the clip.

He repeats the attention on the next one. The way Duncan arches and twitches is pure joy.

"You'll wear those until I'm riding your cock, Daddy," Roberto purrs. He slips a hand down to touch over Duncan's cock. "I'm looking forward to that part."

"It will be hard for me to- do a job in these."

"You said we could go tonight." Roberto pouts at him.

Duncan nods. "Yes. Fine." Then he fixes Roberto with a steady look. "We? Are you sure?"

"What, I'm going to wait in for you?" He raises his brows, leaning more weight into Duncan.

"Apparently not," Duncan laughs.

It's a treat to see him smile. Roberto kisses him softly. "Feeling okay?"

"It feels good," Duncan assures him softly.

"Pleased to hear it." Roberto kisses his cheek. "Let's go."

He takes Duncan's hand as they return to their table. Their lunch has arrived in their absence, to Roberto's amusement.

"Sit down," he purrs. "Let's enjoy this lovely meal."

Duncan sits carefully, elegant as ever. Roberto can't take his eyes off of him. He's barely even flushed. He likes having the opportunity to tease; he'd never considered what it would do to him to see that iron control in public.

Roberto wonders if it's doing more for him than Duncan, but in turn, he supposes, Duncan will like it for that reason too.

He licks his lips, moving a bit closer. "How do you feel, Daddy?"

"I can feel them when I move," he murmurs.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," Duncan rumbles.

"No? It doesn't even ache?"

"Ache? Yes," Duncan tells him. "I have a good pain tolerance."

Roberto can believe that. He reaches over and gently presses down on the slight bump under Duncan's suit jacket. Sees him take it with barely a grimace. "Keep eating, Daddy."

"All right." He does as he's told. He nods. "You too, Berto."

The food is good, so Roberto eats. He's not so hungry that he wants to dawdle, however. He's got other things to do this afternoon. People, to be specific. One person. He can't help but beam at the thought.

He leans in to kiss Duncan's shoulder. Duncan lifts a hand to stroke through his curls. "Beautiful boy, are you enjoying this?"

"Very much so, Daddy."

"Are you disappointed it wasn't the other new toy?"

"Well, time for that whenever." Roberto smiles coaxingly. "I think you'll like that one."

"Why's that?"

"I think you'll like surprising me."

"Surprising you in what way?"

"With that little remote in the package, Duncan. You can change the settings any time you like."

"You had fun with settings last time," Duncan agrees.

Roberto hums and flicks his nipple again. Sees him flinch. "Tell me about the mark," he whispers.

"Just a man. He'll be at the opera tonight. I'll follow him."

"We," Roberto says again.

Duncan smiles faintly. "Tell me what it is you wish to do, Roberto."

"What can I do, Daddy?"

"How are you with locks?" Duncan asks.

"Good," Roberto shrugs.

"If I were to use a partner," he says it slowly like that's an unfamiliar thing, though he's certainly used Roberto before, "I would ask them to break into the mark's home, and wait for his return."

"They can do that."

"I'd make sure he returned alone, and they would make sure there was nothing that could interrupt them."

"All right." Roberto nods. "And then?"

"And then the three of them would be alone."

Roberto bites his lip. "Sounds like they could get messy."

"They could." He smiles.

"Does he deserve messy?" Roberto murmurs.

"You deserve messy." The catch in his voice makes Roberto want to squirm.

"Duncan," he breathes. His chest feels like embers are catching.

"Yes, Berto?"

"Call for the check."

"You haven't finished your lunch," he points out.

"They'll pack it up," Roberto tells him.

Duncan straightens, raising a hand for a passing server. They always get quick service. This is no exception. Duncan pays, and carries their leftovers as they leave.

Roberto presses up against him and Duncan puts his free arm around him. He doesn't seem in a hurry, but as always he makes things happen. A cab, a swift ride to the hotel. They're back at the apartment soon enough.

Duncan stashes their food while Roberto sets aside his coat and shopping bags. He's watching Duncan out of the corner of his eye. As always, he looks calm.

"Duncan? Take your clothes off," Roberto orders softly from his perch on the arm of the couch.

Duncan turns to him, face entirely open. "In here?"

"Right here," Roberto confirms.

A considering silence, and then Duncan slips off his shirt, head down, actions strangely demure.

"That's nice," Roberto praises him. His nipples and chest already look flushed from the clips. "Now the rest, daddy."

Boots, trousers, a few hidden weapons which thunk down onto the coffee table as Duncan watches him in dark-eyed silence. Finally he's down to his sensible shorts. He's plumping out the front, which thrills Roberto. He raises a finger and beckons Duncan close.

He touches as soon as he's within reach - not his cock, but his nipples. Duncan stays stoic, even when Roberto twists the clips.

"Hold your breath," Roberto warns him.

Duncan does look a little confused then. When Roberto releases the clip, he gasps.

"I told you." Roberto leans down to kiss the reddened skin. He can't resist pinching a little bit, either. It makes Duncan groan softly.

"Berto-"

Now Roberto's hand snakes down to his cock, cupping and squeezing. "Yes, gorgeous?"

"I want you," he murmurs.

"How do you want me?"

"On your knees," Duncan tells him, eyes liquid ink.

"What will I do down there?"

"Blow me," Duncan murmurs. “Finish what we started this morning.”

Roberto smiles softly. "Mm, and mess up my lipstick?"

"You look pretty with it like that too." His voice is warm. Roberto nearly melts. He loves that tone. He loves how sure of himself Duncan sounds.

"I'll mess it up for you, Daddy. Come here."

Duncan leans to kiss him. He tangles his hand into Roberto's hair and tugs him in. It's exactly the contact Roberto was craving. Duncan's mouth is hot and insistent. And he's encompassing, and wild. Demanding in a way he rarely is. It's delicious.

Roberto steers him to the couch and pushes him onto the seat. Duncan pulls him close at first, expression soft. He kisses him for a long time, keeping him close. His hands are big, and rough, and warm. Roberto's hands find the other clip and remove it, more gently than the first. Duncan still stutters on his breath slightly. But this time Roberto soothes it immediately with his lips. He smiles as Duncan arches into it.

"Feels extra sensitive now, doesn't it," he whispers.

"Yes," Duncan sighs.

"Keep touching them for me," Roberto urges, sliding down to work on his briefs.

Duncan falters. "I-"

"Please?" Roberto breathes.

Duncan still looks unsure. He hates to feel embarrassed, Roberto knows.

"Just until I get these off?" Duncan still doesn't look assured by that, so Roberto takes pity. "Okay, touch mine instead."

He thrills at the rough fingers. Leans in to kiss him again deeply. He can't resist.

"You feel hard, Daddy. You want my mouth now?"

"Please," Duncan says softly.

"Mm, yes." Roberto bites at Duncan's lower lip and then slips between his knees on the floor. He pulls his briefs the rest of the way off and dips his head.

Duncan's fingers stroke into his hair. He smooths it back, over and over.

 Roberto just settles into his position, starting to tease at Duncan with lips and tongue. He knows he's good at this. And he knows Duncan loves it. He slowly begins to take him deeper. Sucks soft and quick, breathing shallow through his nose. He makes sure he slides deeper with each motion. Duncan's stomach tenses under his hand. He rubs soothingly. He wants him to relax; to let himself have this. To take what Roberto wants to give him. He thinks he's getting there.

He snakes a hand up to circle a fingertip over Duncan’s nipple, sighing when the hand tightens slightly in his hair. Roberto imagines how sensitive he is right now. How much he hides it. He wants to hear him cry out with it, but Roberto is a realist, and he can content himself with knowing simply that Duncan wants to. He knows what a soft gasp means.

He gets that now, with Duncan's cock in the back of his throat, lips flushed and slick. Roberto hums with pleasure. Feels him flex in response. So he does it again, until Duncan tugs on his hair.

"Roberto-" it's low, rumbling.

He glances up, letting him slip from his mouth with an obscene pop. "What is it?" he says thickly.

"May I stand?" he murmurs.

"You want better leverage?" A little smirk as he says it.

"Yes," Duncan whispers.

Roberto leans back to give him room. He watches him the whole time, the smirk broadening into a full smile. Duncan draws himself up slowly, then strokes Roberto's hair once more.

Roberto touches his lipstick absently; smeared already. Duncan's thumb comes to smear it. Roberto takes it into his mouth for a moment. Flicks his tongue against the pad as Duncan strokes it.

"Pretty," he murmurs.

Roberto makes a coaxing noise in response. Then thrills when Duncan strokes his curls back into one hand, fingers clenching as he pulls Roberto in. Roberto obediently swallows him down. He entirely relishes this, being guided and treated like he won't break. Being an instrument of pleasure. Being Duncan's. He closes his eyes and lets himself be. Duncan strokes his hair and murmurs praise.

And he thrusts, hard enough to make Roberto's eyes water. Hard enough to make him moan. He presses a steadying hand against himself. Duncan's breath rushes at that.

"Berto," he groans."Touch yourself?" Roberto whimpers softly, and Duncan urges, "Do it, baby."

Roberto does, easily lifting the hem of his shirt dress and pushing down his shorts enough to free his cock. He relaxes his jaw, tilting his head to watch Duncan as he obeys, hand loose, the touch almost teasing. It feels so good it sets his lashes fluttering. He groans, enough to set off an answering noise in Duncan.

"Berto--"

An answering whine, swaying into Duncan's continued thrusts. He strokes faster, heat spreading through his body. The hand in his hair feels greedy now, tugging enough to sting.

"Berto," Duncan rumbles, "I want more."

Roberto pulls off, gasping. "Tell me."

"Our room."

Roberto nods, licking his lips. When Duncan offers his hands, he lets himself be pulled him up, laughing when Duncan strips his shorts down and off and scoops him up in his arms. With Roberto’s thighs wrapped around his waist, Duncan carries him to the bedroom. Roberto grins and nibbles at his ear the whole way.

"Gonna put your cock in me, daddy?"

"You know I am."

"Just wanted to check."

He nibbles some more; stretches out languidly as Duncan lowers him onto the bed and straightens to kick off the rest of his clothes. Finally, he presses Roberto's thighs to his chest and leans in to kiss him, covering him and compressing him with his body. His weight is so entirely delicious, his cock pressing teasingly.

Delighted by this sudden sureness, Roberto arches up, gasping.

"Please," he breathes.

"Please?" Duncan nips at his jaw.

"Fuck me now," he begs.

Duncan nods against his throat, lips brushing the tender skin, breath hot. He leans for lube, a momentary loss of warmth, but then he's back, clicking open the cap.

"You want anything else?" He murmurs, almost absurdly sweet. “My mouth?”

Roberto growls softly. "Just your dick, about ten minutes ago."

“Okay.” Duncan's hands move fast and rough. He slicks himself, pushing Roberto's dress up around his waist and settling over him.

 The first push is fast, and thick, and perfect. Roberto groans at the stretch, clutching him closer. Back arching off the sheets, calves folding against Duncan's back, he bites his lip as Duncan braces his arms and thrusts again.

"Fuck," Roberto hisses.

Duncan isn't holding back, his eyes almost black with desire. He gives Roberto everything he has all at once, hard, long thrusts, his pace animal. Roberto can't catch his breath, and doesn't want to. His body feels stretched taut and filled with singing sensation. All he can do is moan. Duncan feels so big, deep and necessary. As uncontrolled as he ever gets.

Roberto adores him. He lets his nails bite in, holding him close.

"Daddy," he whispers, "give it me faster, I can take it." A shocked whimper escapes him when Duncan takes him at his word, driving his hips. "Yes, yes, yes- Oh! Yes, fuck-"

Duncan is almost punishing with his thrusts, but Roberto knows it's for him, because he asked for it. He’d do anything Roberto asks. He just has to ask.

"Will you do something for me?" he whispers.

"Yes." Uncharacteristically shy, Roberto pauses, and Duncan bends to kiss him, slowing, voice rough and breathless. "Tell me."

His mustache tickles, but Roberto keeps him close. "Will you call me- say 'girl'? For a bit?"

"Anything you want," Duncan murmurs. He kisses Roberto's throat. "My girl. Anything you want."

"Tell me I'm pretty?"

"You're beautiful," Duncan coos immediately, voice all gravel as his thrusts slow. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Such a pretty girl."

It's an unprecedented number of words from his man. Each one trickles heat into Roberto's core. He pushes his face into Duncan's shoulder, clinging a little.

"Please, Daddy, make me come."

A big hand curls around his cock immediately, stroking fast and shallow.

"Come on, baby girl," Duncan croons.

Roberto feels himself leaking at the words alone; the combination of that constant motion inside him, so right.

Duncan is everything right. Roberto has to squeeze his eyes shut tight against the overwhelm as Duncan fucks him to gasping, trembling incoherency. He groans and squirms and Duncan just holds him where he wants him.

"That's my girl," he whispers. "Come for daddy." And he just drives, drives, drives.

Roberto clenches so sudden, so hard, it nearly hurts. It's shockingly good, pouring out of him like a dam burst. He makes an absolute mess of them both, and Duncan doesn't stop stroking him until he shies from it.

Gleaming with exertion, flushed and pumped, Duncan pulls out and wraps a fist around himself.

"Fuck," Roberto gasps. He stares up at Duncan, unable to tear his gaze away: he's focused, eyes down and lips just slightly parted, quick and brutal and so beautiful Roberto can't stand it. His gaze slips down to his thick, flushed cock, peeking slick from his fist, and his own twitches weakly in response.

"Do it," he whispers.

Duncan groans softly, stroking quicker until Roberto sees his veins standing out as he starts to flood white. He makes a single ragged noise, then buries his face in Roberto's neck.

"Good girl," he rumbles.

Roberto shivers, wrapping arms around Duncan's neck tightly. "Thank you."

He savors the mess between them, the drum of Duncan's heartbeat. His own heart feels... strange. Foreign to him. There's a fluttering in his stomach he doesn't think he's ever felt before, alive and squirming and strangely warm. Adoring. Swallowing at the epiphany, Roberto sighs and buries his face in Duncan's neck. He's been a complete chump, letting this get to him, like a complete amateur. He closes his eyes and chastises himself mentally for five minutes.

Duncan just holds him, but after a while he touches inquiringly at his hair.

"You okay?"

"Mmhm. Just hold me?"

Duncan nods, as sweetly obliging as ever. Roberto can't deny that it seems like he cares. That's new, too. Just... he's not sure if Duncan cares the way he's realized he wants him to. Maybe he does. He seems to. He certainly wants Roberto, at least sexually. A man in his profession probably doesn't allow himself much leeway with interpersonal relationships.

That makes Roberto curious. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay," Duncan rumbles.

"Do you… date? Do relationships?" Roberto asks.

He thinks he can feel Duncan smile. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious about you, Duncan," Roberto tells him.

"I've tried before, but I'm not usually... enough for them. My lifestyle."

"Mm. They knew?"

"Only one."

"They wished you to be more present? Less violent?"

"More human."

"Duncan," Roberto protests, sitting up to frown. He only raises his brows at Roberto, enquiring. "You are human."

"I know that. I know exactly what I am."

"So do I." He leans down and kisses him, but Duncan still doesn't seem worried, or hurt.

"Being the way I am is what makes me good at my job. My job stops me being something worse. I can live with being a disappointing partner. It doesn't affect me, not often. Sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes." Duncan strokes his hair, then observes, "you didn't get to use your new toy."

"Or wear my new shoes. But I will." Roberto nuzzles him. “Plenty of time.”

"All right. Sleep for a bit."

"Sure, Duncan," he murmurs. He watches Duncan’s eyes close first, though, lashes pale against his cheeks, face sculpted by will and hardship. Beautiful nonetheless.

At that thought, Roberto sighs heavily to himself: he's a fucking goner. He presses his lips against Duncan's temple and leaves them there.

When he wakes, it's with Duncan's arm over him and his chest rising steadily against Roberto's. The sun is starting to sink beyond the horizon, leaking crimson onto the skyline. Roberto only has eyes for the moonlight in his bed. Silver hair askew, his beard coming in around his dark moustache, Duncan looks more like a tired old veteran than a deadly killer. Surprisingly, it doesn't make Roberto want him any less.

He sighs and strokes his cheek, marveling at his stillness. Being soft is uncomfortable, he thinks. It feels like wearing something too revealing, and that's not usually a problem Roberto has. Shit, that's usually what he's going for. Duncan changes everything.

Now, Roberto strokes over his pale eyebrows, and Duncan stirs. Roberto can't help smiling.

"Rise and shine," he purrs.

"What time is it?" Duncan rasps.

"Nearly nine."

"Time to dress and find my mark," Duncan corrects softly.

"That too." He taps Duncan's cheek gently. “Our mark.”

"Our mark," Duncan corrects. "You might want to wear something you don't mind getting ruined."

Roberto shivers. "All right." He grins. "Luckily I brought several of those. Just in case."

"Good girl." Duncan pats his ass, the teasing, intimate affection of it strangling Roberto for a second. He can practically feel his pupils dilating.

"Don't do that if you don't want to be late," he laughs softly.

"Rain check?"

"You got it." Roberto pushes himself gracefully to his feet and stalks to his bag, snagging his clothes and heading to the bathroom to shower.

He makes it a quick one, and when he returns, Duncan takes his place, and comes back clean and dressed in his customary black and army fatigues. He's not forgettable, but Roberto is also biased.

"I've never seen you like this," Duncan says then, gesturing to Roberto's outfit: dark jeans, a rather utilitarian black crewneck.

"When we first met, I wasn't much different." It's true - that client didn't want flashy.

"You were naked when we first met."

Roberto rolls his eyes. "After that."

"I don't remember it much, it was only brief."

"Charmer," Roberto tells him.

Duncan smiles, a devastating crook of his mouth. "You were charming enough for both of us."

"You're feeling your oats, old man," Roberto observes, pulling on some sneakers.

"Perhaps I am."

"It suits you." Roberto licks his lips, and Duncan makes an abortive movement. Roberto dances back. "Time to go, Daddy. Show me where you want me."

"You remember the plan?"

"I break in and wait at his home while you follow him in," Roberto murmurs.

"You're okay to go ahead without me?"

"Of course," Roberto says. "I know you wouldn't send me in if it wasn't something I could handle."

"Of course. Not that I have any doubt." He picks up an unobtrusive duffle, removes a smaller bag, and hands it to Roberto. "For you."

“More presents? You shouldn’t have.” Roberto immediately opens it. Lock picks, gloves. Duct tape. Rope. Pliers. Wire cutters. A gleaming hunting knife. The same knife, in fact, that he used to cut Roberto's clothes off a couple of nights ago.

Roberto sighs quietly. "Nice."

Duncan smiles at him softly. "I'll carry the rest. Are you ready?"

"Yes." Roberto nods quickly.

Duncan offers him his arm like they’re going to the opera. They head out, keeping close together. The streets are full of nightlife, but they are one another's cover; just a couple of lovers on a night out. Duncan takes Roberto's hand in his own and flags a cab.

As they wind into residential areas, things get quieter. Duncan calls the cab to a stop at a dark corner, a couple of blocks away from the address he whispered into his ear, and kisses Roberto’s cheek. "I'll see you in a while, let me know when you’re home safe."

“Have fun with your friend.”

Roberto watches the cab disappear before he sets off, winding unobstructed through the streets to the mark's home. He notes with approval that it is relatively secluded, speaking to status as well as desire for privacy. The security system, however, looks pretty slick. Thankfully, Roberto has plenty of experience with electronics.

He idly extracts the wire cutters from his bag and walks around to find a climbable point of the wall. The landscaping helps: clearly this man is rich but not overly paranoid. Using the branch of a sturdy tree, Roberto slips over, making his way to the front door and using the wire cutters to disable the alarm.

Silently, he lets himself into the silent house, eyes adjusting to the dark. Then with a hum, he snaps on a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and begins to wander through the house, looking for weapons, safes, anything of interest, the former being the first area of interest, of course. But he has time to kill.

He finds a pistol in the bedside drawer, and another handgun under the desk in the study downstairs. He tucks those into an unobtrusive spot in the hall closet, loads the ammo into his bag for safekeeping, and goes to inspect the kitchen knives.

Nothing good. He throws them into the trash, then helps himself to a bottle of champagne for later, tucking it into his bag before continuing on his journey through the house. Inspecting the furniture, he decides whoever lives here deserves to die: there’s cow print on all the furniture.

He also shoves a heavy copper bust off a counter - though it'd be too heavy to grab in a fight - and does a final sweep around to check for anything he's missed.

"Time for the safe," he grins. It's simple enough to find, tucked away in a custom built cabinet in the office. The point of this hit certainly isn’t a robbery, but old habits die hard, and it’s not like Roberto has anything better to do before Duncan arrives.

Cracking his knuckles, he kneels down in front of it and leans in close to listen as he starts to turn the combination lock. This will keep him busy for a while. He settles into it, mind drifting absently to Duncan again; to waking to his warmth. Roberto could get used to it. Perhaps Duncan just needs a push. Though what he said - about relationships. It hadn't been promising. Then again, none of those people were Roberto. Unless he's using that as an excuse. He sighs, promptly distracted by a click from the dial.

"Ten," he mutters, continuing to turn.

He's got the second number by the time his watch is telling him it's time to listen for the mark's arrival. He keeps turning, listening intently all the while, frowning at his time. He used to be really good at this. He's rusty, but he can feel it coming at any moment, that last click.

When it finally falls, he gives himself a little round of applause. And then, he hears the door close in the hall.

"I'll be back, sweetheart," he murmurs, leaving the door ajar and silently getting to his feet.

Pressing himself into a shadowy alcove, he listens to the mark stumbling past the study and waits for the sound of footfalls on the stairs to recede before he moves to unlock the front door for Duncan. The movement above suggests drunkenness, and there’s a little shuffling and swearing; the sound of running taps.

When the door is unlocked, Roberto moves to the foot of the stairs and waits, tracking the movements of the mark all the while. Another noise catches his attention, and he looks over as Duncan opens the door only a moment later.

He smiles at the sight of Roberto, and he sees his lips move silently on that familiar shape: good girl.

Roberto licks his lips, inclines his head toward to stairs. Duncan nods, and closes the door silently behind him. His hand signal says, follow me.

Together, they tread carefully up the stairs. Duncan is holding a silenced pistol, but at the top of the stairs, he signals for Roberto to draw his knife. The mark, it sounds like, is in the bathroom. Roberto listens to the water, startling only a little when Duncan's voice brushes his ear.

"I want you to kill him."

"Then say please, Daddy," Roberto murmurs back. Duncan presses a kiss so soft beneath his ear that it makes Roberto a little trembly.

"Please?"

A shiver running through him that ends in a flood of heat, Roberto slinks forward, easing the bathroom door open and slipping inside. He jerks back the shower curtain to expose the occupant.

The man opens his mouth to scream, but Roberto just slashes him across the throat, and what comes out instead is a gurgled cry. He flails back, hits the tiled wall and slides down. Roberto waits until he's slumped in the corner to move closer. He turns the water off first, a neat twist of the faucet, then he flips the knife neatly in his hand, blade facing down, and stabs over and over. He nearly forgets to breathe, watching the bubbles of crimson. Some of it sprays his face, but he doesn't stop, not even when he can feel the resistance give way to pulverized softness.

The only thing that stops him is the feel of a warm hand at his waist.

"Love." Duncan's voice is warm. "That's enough."

"What'd you call me?" Roberto slurs. He allows Duncan to remove the knife from his grip and set it on the sink.

"I called you 'love'," Duncan repeats, holding Roberto against his body, steadying him, grounding him. “Is that okay?”

"Mmhm," Roberto hums.

"Good. We need to go," Duncan says softly.

"Not until you check the safe in the office," Roberto tells him, smiling sweetly.

"All right. Come on down and show me." Duncan picks up the knife and folds it, putting it in his pocket. He ignores the body in the shower, just leads Roberto back downstairs. There, he strips the jacket off him; the gloves he's wearing. When they're in a bin bag, he gives him a clean pair of gloves; a towel for his face.

The towel goes in the bag too.

"Now show me," he says softly when Roberto is clean.

Roberto does, vibrating slightly, stomach tight. Duncan flips through the contents quickly, tucking a few folders into his bag. "Good work, love. Now close it up, and let's go."

Roberto does, and they leave through the back door, leaving everything else completely undisturbed. He feels a little like he's floating, like he ought to be able to sail right over the garden wall. Instead, Duncan scales it, and pulls him up with him. He leads Roberto silently through the dark streets until they get to another area with nightlife. There, after putting their things into the spare tourist-style backpack he brought with them, he flags a cab.

They're barely in motion before he tugs Roberto into his lap. With the contact, Roberto can feel that he's hard.

"Mm," he hums softly, draping against him.

Duncan strokes his hair, eyes ahead.

"Talk to me," Roberto whispers in his ear.

Obligingly, Duncan noses him. "You were perfect." He kisses Roberto's jaw. His arm tightens around his middle. "Beautiful and vicious and clever. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Duncan," Roberto sighs.

"It's true." He's pulled closer against Duncan's chest, surrounded by warmth.

"Don't say things like that," Roberto sighs.

"Why not?"

Roberto shushes him softly. "Just hold me."

Again, Duncan does as he's bid. They ride across the city like that.

Back at the apartment, Duncan throws the bag of their bloodied items into the fire and turns it on despite the relative warmth.

"Getting hot in here," Roberto purrs.

"Just until these are gone."

"Oh, it's no problem." He pulls his jumper off over his head.

Duncan smiles.

"Not a problem," he echoes. He removes his own. Roberto immediately goes to him, cupping his ribs, feeling the scars there. Duncan looks down at him, eyes dark and shining.

"How do you feel?" He murmurs.

"Alive," Roberto says throatily.

"I'm pleased to hear it."

"I'm even more pleased to feel it."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. It is." He starts in on his jeans.

Duncan smiles softly at him, as calm as ever. "Was it messy enough?"

"I wouldn't have minded a little messier," Roberto confesses.

Duncan prods at the remains of their soiled clothing, then steps closer.

"Next time, then," he whispers.

"Will there be a next time?"

"Do you want there to be?"

"Yes," Roberto murmurs. "If you want me."

Duncan frowns at that. "What do you mean?"

"If you want me, more permanently," Roberto specifies, hands pausing on the fastenings of his jeans.

Duncan raises his eyebrows. "I don't know if I can afford you, permanently."

Probably a lie, but Roberto thinks suddenly he knows the underlying meaning: if I can entertain you, permanently.

"Duncan," he pleads. "We can move beyond that. For us."

"Us..." he's holding Roberto's elbows now, expression strange. Roberto stays carefully still. He thinks he's said all he's willing to say, without a response. Duncan wets his lips, then he slowly kneels down before Roberto, expression soft. "You want to be us?"

Roberto has to look down at him now. "You don't?"

"I didn't know it was an option," Duncan replies. Roberto has never seen him look so open. "I just hoped I could - be with you, as much as I could. I just hoped you would stay for the money."

"You thought this was business."

"I didn't know," Duncan murmurs. "I hoped not but - my assumptions are seldom correct."

"You hoped," Roberto can feel his pulse in his wrists and neck.

"I hoped," Duncan admits. "You treat me differently than anyone ever has."

"That's because I l- because I want you, idiot."

"Not just a business arrangement?" Duncan murmurs.

"No, of course not." He sighs, pulling Duncan up further to touch his face. "Duncan, I don't... I don't think I've ever wanted anything more." It's an unfamiliar feeling, this softness. He's not sure he likes it, but with Duncan - he still feels safe.

Duncan looks just as lost as he feels.

"Really?" He croaks.

"I don't know what I would do if you told me this was over," Roberto sighs. "I wasn't lying about wanting you to call me."

"Berto," Duncan whispers. "That's what I wanted you here. I wanted to - to be normal. As normal as we can be."

"I want to come with you, Daddy," Roberto tells him, something giddy swimming to the surface. "And if I can't, I want you to come back to me."

"Always?" Duncan says, voice still with that faint rasp of disbelief.

Roberto laughs softly, cupping his cheeks. "Every bloody time."

Duncan swallows heavily. Roberto thinks for a moment he looks like he might cry. The stoic mask has slipped.

"Duncan," he whispers softly, "I promise."

Duncan pulls him down for a hurried kiss. His hands feel so possessive; as fierce as he'd previously been gentle.

"I love you, baby," he breathes, like the words are made of sandpaper.

"Duncan-" Roberto's heart feels strange again, a bizarre, rushing warmth going through him. He feels dizzy. "I love you."

He feels really dizzy. Drunk on emotion. Duncan cups his face, and kisses him again, slower this time. Roberto sinks down into his lap on the floor, laughing softly.

"Tell me again, Daddy."

"I love you," Duncan says immediately. His hands are rough and tight but his eyes are soft.

"Again," Roberto whispers.

"I love you."

"One more time."

Duncan leans in. The next thing he says isn't in English, or in any language Roberto knows. Still, he understands. He feels it deep inside.

"You're fucking mine," he tells Duncan fiercely.

"Yes," Duncan whispers. "Show me?"

"I will. Get up."

Duncan stands, Roberto still in his arms, and they go quickly toward the bedroom.

Roberto feels desperately greedy, dirty amongst all the cool white marble. He pushes Duncan down onto the bed, yanking at his clothes futilely until he's frustrated enough to growl.

"Left front pocket," Duncan murmurs, and Roberto snatches out the knife; flips it open and slices the offending clothing until he can push it away.

"I'm going to need new clothes," Duncan rumbles.

"Heard that one before," Roberto purrs. He leans down and bites softly at Duncan's throat, relishing the gasp, then he licks over the mark. Sighs when he strokes up Roberto's spine.

"Show me," Duncan says again.

Roberto leans down to kiss him again. "I will. You tell me how you want me."

"However you want, beautiful." He groans, shifting to take even more of Roberto's weight. "Gorgeous girl. Cunning boy. You destroy me."

"I do like to destroy you where I can," Roberto purrs, peppering kisses along the stubbled jaw.

Duncan strokes his hair slowly. "Any time you like."

Pointedly, he rocks their hips together slowly, and Roberto sighs, letting him grind. He circles his own hips in counterpoint, and it feels relaxed and urgent at once. They're in their own world now, cupped in the luxury of this room, the importance of the outside fallen away. Roberto kisses Duncan in a way he hasn't let himself before, deep and slow. Duncan has always had his full attention, but now he has his full surrender as well. He's holding Roberto tight enough it hurts, but he doesn't want him to stop. He's so strong, and Roberto gasps appreciatively against his lips.

"Daddy, I want your cock-"

"Yes," Duncan rumbles, a tone of slight desperation.

"Now, take me now."

Duncan starts to scramble for lube, and Roberto practically snatches it off him, slicking Duncan’s cock with long, tight strokes. They’re all hurried, clumsy, and when Roberto gets frustrated, Duncan steers him, tugging him down once Roberto kneels up to sink down onto his cock. He slots them together fast and messy, as greedy as he's ever felt.

Duncan hisses, fisting a hand into Roberto's hair gently, holding him back where he can look at him, expression avid. He lets him rock though; lets him ride his cock slow and thorough, the length of him filling Roberto so completely.

He feels incredible, so deep, stretching him perfectly, and he's barely even moving yet. Roberto is savoring this. He runs his hands up and down Duncan's chest, panting lightly.

"That's perfect, Daddy," he murmurs, "you let me take what I want, and maybe I’ll give you something you want, mm?"

"Berto. Please," Duncan sighs.

"Please?"

"You can have whatever you want."

"Good boy," Roberto purrs. "Daddy likes to spoil me."

"However he can," Duncan confirms, stomach visibly tensing against the sensation as Roberto starts to bounce himself a little quicker. He can feel that watches, eyes half-lidded and lips parted. Roberto pinches his nipples, just to amuse himself, knowing they're still tender. The gasp Duncan gives is still delicious.

"Should I do that again?"

"Yes," Duncan says, much too calmly.

So he rolls his hips, circling the tender skin with pinching pressure. He uses it as leverage, which makes Duncan bare his teeth; snap his hips up in response.

"Ah ah ah," Roberto tugs again. "Don't forget what I said-"

"You want me still," Duncan rasps.

"Yes, Daddy. I want you to watch me."

"I always watch you," Duncan assures. And Roberto knows it's true.

"I love you watching me," he assures.

"I love you," Duncan says softly.

"I know you do. Stroke my cock, Daddy."

Duncan smears his palm with lube, taking him in his firm, rough hand, strokes tight and quick, exactly how Roberto wants it.

"Fuck, that's perfect-" God, he's so hard. Duncan is being so good. Roberto rides himself faster on his cock, hard enough he knows he'll feel it later. That's what he wants. Duncan, every way. Any way he can get him.

He watches a flush spread down his chest.

"Oh, Daddy," he murmurs, "is it hard?"

"I can wait," Duncan breathes.

"I know you can. Won't be long. You just keep thinking about what you want."

Wetting his lips, Duncan just keeps stroking him, never taking his eyes off the motions of his hands.

"Baby," he breathes.

"Yes, Daddy?"

How's it feel?"

"It feels like exactly what I wanted."

"Glad to hear it," Duncan murmurs. "May I ask for-" he trails off, voice soft.

"Yes," Roberto says, immediately.

Duncan laughs, sounding mildly shocked.

Roberto bends to kiss him, still rocking on him. "What is it?

"I think I'd like if you... put on your new heels," Duncan whispers.

Robert's stomach turns, and his skin goes suddenly hot.

"Yeah?" He smiles.

"Yeah," Duncan echoes.

"I can do that, Daddy." Carefully extricating himself, Roberto slips off of the bed and saunters to the pile of shopping bags. Looking back at Duncan, hard and gleaming all over, is enough to make him hurry. He lifts the wicked heels out of their nest of tissue paper and slips them on, posing for a moment in the middle of the room, smiling when Duncan licks his lips.

"That's what you want, then?"

"Yes, Berto," Duncan laughs. "Please come here," he adds softly.

Roberto goes, letting Duncan hold his hand as he steps onto the bed and over him. He stands and looks down for a moment. Duncan looks up, eyes glazed with pleasure.

"Look at you," he rumbles.

That makes Roberto's lips crook in a grin. "I love it when you do."

"Look at your beautiful legs."

"You look at them."

"I am." His hand skims up Roberto's pale calf. "Prettiest girl in the world," he murmurs.

Roberto sinks down on his lap again with a sigh: he has to kiss him. He leans down and feels his curls brush both their cheeks. Duncan's hands cup his jaw, their lips dragging wetly.

"Ride me again, baby," he whispers.

Roberto nods, shifting. "Happily."

He straddles Duncan's waist, legs spread, and sinks back down onto his cock. They both gasp. The angle is good like this, even better when he leans back, legs bracketing Duncan, his big hands coming up to grip his hips, supporting him effortlessly.

"How do I look, Daddy?"

"Like a dream." One of Duncan's hands skates down his calf, and then abruptly, smoothly, he sits up on his knees, tipping Roberto carefully onto his back on the mattress in one quick motion.

"Over my shoulders," he mutters.

Roberto arches his hips and complies, letting a heel dig into Duncan's back, cold and sharp. Duncan's eyes are nearly black. He bends to kiss Roberto's throat, and starts to snap his hips fast.

Roberto moans. "Oh, that's good-”

He's overcome. It's a constant rush of sensation, dragging, pressing. He's surrounded by Duncan's power, combatting it with his own. And they're perfectly in sync. Every thrust feels perfect, targeted, and Roberto feels his own orgasm rushing in and forces it back, urging Duncan on.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, please-"

"Baby," Duncan grits, "my love -"

"Yes, please, come in me, fill me up-" Roberto claws desperately at his shoulders. He can feel him getting close; hear his breath going tight. "God, I love you," Roberto sighs, clutching his back.

"Berto-" he sounds so sweetly shocked.

"I love you," Roberto repeats. He clutches him as he feels Duncan's hips jerk; feels him come, sudden and hard. It makes his own cock jerk against his stomach, and he whines, loud and insistent.

Teeth bared, Duncan is still fucking him, breathing hard as he wraps a hand around Roberto and strokes. He ignores what must be his own sensitivity, moving fast. Roberto gasps and squirms up, arching. The driving pressure resolves itself into static electricity, and he comes in a harsh, shouting flood, all over Duncan's hand and his own chest.

He feels like his bones have all turned to rubber. It's upsettingly good.

"Duncan," he moans. He feels shivery and replete. His lover covers him with his body, covers him with kisses. One of his shoes is hanging off his foot, and he lets it fall onto the bedspread with a giggle. "Daddy, you have the best ideas."

Duncan hums into his skin, pillowing his cheek on Roberto's chest, a pleasant weight on top of him.

"Sometimes," he mutters.

Roberto strokes his hair slowly. "That's all you need when you find the right one." He stretches a little beneath Duncan. "So what happens now? For us?"

"We leave Spain, and we decide where to go next."

"Where's home?" Roberto whispers.

"Where do you want it to be?"

"Where it is."

"With me, then," Duncan murmurs.

"Where your home is, yes, Duncan."

"You come home with me," Duncan says, like he's testing the words.

"I come home with you."

"Good," Duncan murmurs. He kisses Roberto once more. "Good."

"Then we hire someone to pack up my apartment," Roberto adds practically. "Because I'm not leaving you again."

"I'll have your things shipped." Duncan sounds gruff, commanding even.

"Perfect," Roberto murmurs.

All of Duncan's hesitation seems to have melted away, but for one thing.

"You might not like where I live," he says now though.

"Maybe," Roberto purrs. "But I won't hesitate to say, if so."

"That I have no doubt of." Duncan nearly smiles.

"Ugh, you're cute," Roberto sighs, pulling Duncan down for a thorough kiss.

"No one has ever called me that before."

"You've never had me before."

"That's true. But I've got you now."

"So get used to it," Roberto purrs.

"I'll try." Now he's definitely smiling.

"That's all I can ask." Roberto leans in until their eyes meet, and just looks his fill. "I love you," he tells Duncan quietly, "it's a thrill to be able to tell."

"It's a thrill to feel," Duncan replies softly. When Roberto lifts a hand to stroke his cheek, Duncan kisses the oyster of his palm. "I love you too - vicious, beautiful thing."

Roberto grins at him. "You better."

"Or what?" Duncan smiles.

"Well, you'll have me to answer to, of course."

"Formidable."

"You wouldn't have it any other way, now would you, Daddy?"

"Absolutely not." Duncan kisses him. "I'll teach you how to shoot."

"You can teach me anything you like."

Duncan smiles at that. "Then I will."

Roberto likes the sound of that. He can teach Duncan a few things in return. He’s already started.