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Alessio thought he had grown accustomed to his employer’s eccentric endeavors. After all, he helped the man obtain a ridiculous amount of sex toys and installed them into every nook and cranny of his manor; all for the promise of millions from a man both knew had been highly untrustworthy in the past. Despite that, he silently scrutinized every move he made, especially when that aforementioned plan fell through and left them with more dicks than dollars. To this day he could not comprehend what spurred Crimson to come up with such an idea, and he made it clear in no uncertain terms to drop it and move on.
Albeit a little difficult, he managed to let it go. But now he faced a new problem. It had nothing to do with the scheme this time, the idea of a ransom sounded far more simple than anything they had done in the past. What bothered him now was how they obtained the ransom, or rather, from who. A bounty hunter Crimson hired that went by the name of Striker.
He quickly proved his capability while the three of them sat down in one of their hideouts in Greed to discuss business. They wanted an opportunity for a big score to recoup their losses, and he assured them he could offer them such an opportunity. To prove this, in the middle of his self-appraisal, he turned his attention to a commotion just out the window that had grown increasingly more intense. Alessio thought nothing of it, fights were common in Greed, but Striker saw differently.
With a single toss of his lasso, he easily captured the ransom they sought in the form of Asmodeus’s not-so-secret lover. Not only that, but Blitzo had been with him. While not the objective, his past involvement with their organization made him quite the person of interest. No doubt Crimson would prefer to take his time with him.
Although his boss took this all as a stroke of good fortune, Alessio thought otherwise. Being his personal bodyguard called for this kind of suspicion, after all. The complete coincidence involved with such a feat screamed set-up, but he couldn’t find the ulterior motive. If Striker had one, he had been quite the actor up to this point. He had to be warned more than once to handle the merchandise carefully, and the way he looked at them carried a weight of deeper hostility. As if he held a personal vendetta against them.
Then again, perhaps it wasn’t these actions that brought distrust to the forefront of his mind. As he stood dutifully by Crimson’s side, he found himself closer than he ever had been before. Close enough to watch how he and Striker talked to one another. As if they were old companions long overdue for a reunion. They got along well, too well for Alessio’s comfort, and it started to grate on his nerves.
They had dragged their bounty to one of the many warehouses in Greed with the help of Crimson’s new gang, but not before they put out their terms to Asmodeus; money for the clown. As they awaited their ransom, the three soon found themselves within a long, bare hallway, the heels of boots and shined oxfords echoed along the floor with each step. Crimson wanted to relax away from his men in one of the empty storage rooms. Alessio naturally accompanied him, but so too did Striker, as he opted for his company rather than that of the men. Something that Crimson did not oppose, unaware of his partner’s displeasure, and Alessio now glared at their backs as they strolled side-by-side as friendly as ever.
Crimson’s hands rested deep in his pockets, completely relaxed with the environment of the warehouse behind them. “Y’know, it’s almost funny how easily you got me a bargaining chip. You sure you ain’t in on this?”
At first, Alessio believed he asked the question earnestly after he put some thought into how quickly their luck had turned. But when he followed the question with a sly wink to their new companion, he realized it to be nothing more than a cheeky remark. One that made him grit his teeth in annoyance.
Striker rested his hands behind his head and laughed at the inquiry; the lack of respect on display for his employer made Alessio grip his hands tightly behind his back. “Trust me, I’m just that good. ‘Sides, I tried to offer Blitzy a deal in the past; he and his little pals have been a pain in my ass since. If not for our little arrangement, he’d be dead already.”
“Really? Well once we get our money, maybe we can take turns on him. Then he can tell me where my son and his broad is. They still have a lot to answer for,” Crimson uttered in a low growl.
“Your son-?” Striker questioned, then his eyes widened slightly. “Wait, you’re Moxxie’s old man?”
Although he couldn’t see it, Alessio could tell Crimson rolled his eyes. “Not by choice.”
Striker shook his head. “Shit, no wonder you looked so familiar. Can definitely tell you share the same genes.”
He seemed to look Crimson up and down as he said this, and he offered the slightest flick with his tail. Alessio’s eye twitched as he tried to discern what he meant by that. Was that meant to be a pass at his boss? The mere thought made him clench his jaw so hard he felt a vein pop. It took all his willpower not to sock him right there.
Crimson also grimaced, albeit for different reasons. “Don’t insult me like that, Striker. I’m just starting to like you.”
Even though he meant it in jest, Alessio felt his heart skip a beat. The smirk that came along with it made time seem to slow to a standstill. Only when Striker reciprocated the glance did it resume normally, and Alessio’s nostrils flared with indignance.
“Oh I would never insult my new, generous benefactor. Although, if you would like, we can always discuss another bounty to help you with that particular problem.”
Crimson practically beamed at the notion. “Sure, maybe we will.”
A soft growl rumbled in Alessio’s throat, although it went unnoticed by the two men. As Striker returned the grin, the shark noticed his tail once again whip through the air. He traced it back and forth, until it dared to brush along Crimson’s back. Whether he felt it or not, the imp didn’t bother to mention, but Alessio saw how his own tail began to flick back at him. They casually played a little game with their appendages that neither made outright clear, but Alessio understood it all too well. With how tight his whole body had become as he bore witness to this excruciating display, this final act forced him to snap.
His eyes darted to a nearby door and he stopped in his tracks with a hard stomp of his feet, loud enough to draw the attention of both parties.
“Sir, may I speak with you for a moment? Privately,” he emphasized with a not-so-subtle look towards the bounty hunter.
Crimson looked between the two men, confused by Alessio's reaction. Regardless, he shrugged as he looked back at the shark. “Uh, sure. Wait here a moment, yeah?” He waved a hand at Striker, and the cowboy nodded as he leaned against the wall.
Alessio opened the door and gestured for Crimson to step in while he kept his eyes on Striker. The cowboy absentmindedly picked at his fangs with a pointed finger until he noticed the eyes on him and looked at Alessio. When he returned his gaze with a soured look, he shot him a grin and waved without a care in the world. Alessio’s fingers gripped the door so tight he thought it would splinter. Rather than do something he’d regret, he merely scowled at him as he followed Crimson into the room and slammed the door behind him.
With Striker out of sight, for now, Alessio looked about his new surroundings. The room was a lot smaller than he expected, with just enough space for the two of them. Shelves took up one wall that had been filled with an assortment of cleaning products, and a mop sat inside a rolling bucket that had been pushed against the wall opposite the door. While not the most ideal space for the conversation he wished to have, the smell of ammonia and bleach alone started to give him a headache, it did offer the privacy he requested.
“Alright, Ale,” Crimson sighed, “what’s up? Mind tellin’ me why you dragged me into a… is this a janitor’s closet?”
Alessio disregarded the obvious question and stepped closer to his boss. “You wanna tell me what’s going on between you and the new guy?”
Crimson blinked in surprise, slightly taken aback. He offered a small shrug with his hands. “What? We’re just talkin’.”
“Talkin’, right, sure ya are,” Alessio sneered.
Crimson’s eyes narrowed, and he hissed, “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just confused how you talk, is all. Tail ain’t nearly as… active right now.”
He shot a look at it that made Crimson squint in confusion. But as soon as Alessio turned his attention back on him, he averted his gaze. His tail also seemed to shy away from him as it tucked behind his back.
“He’s good at his job, alright? Don’t get a lot of that goin’ around. I mean, you saw how he hauled Blitz and his gay little friend,” he recalled with a smile before he looked back up at Alessio. “We’re gonna be rich after this!”
“I’m good at my job too, damn good,” he retorted and took another step closer. Crimson noticed how much distance closed between them and took a step back, only to knock his elbow into the mop as he connected with the back wall.
Alessio took advantage of this and surged forward. He slammed his forearm just above Crimson’s head and leaned over him. He didn’t doubt he presented an imposing figure, as even his boss appeared somewhat shaken.
Nevertheless, he leaned down further still, until his lips were a hair's-breadth from his ear. “Yet I never seen you act the way you did with me. Seems to me like you’re looking for something more… permanent.”
Alessio glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Although he didn’t meet his gaze, Crimson’s flushed face and shuddered breaths told him he was onto something. Even so, the imp denied it.
“C-c’mon, Ale, quit fuckin’ with me. It’s business, nothin’ else. You know better than anyone I don’t do that queer shit.”
Alessio raised a brow. “Really now?”
He intentionally placed a leg against his crotch as he pressed further into him. This small contact had been enough to draw out a shaky exhale from the smaller man, and brought the slightest smile to Alessio’s lips. As he squirmed, the shark felt how this conversation brought a different reaction from him, and slowly he felt his ire start to wane.
Not that he let it show, as he brought a hand down to pinch his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “And what about us?”
Crimson appeared to turn as red as his namesake at the question. “That’s different a-and you know it.”
“So you say.”
The mob boss sharply exhaled as Alessio relinquished his hold, then gasped as the shark summarily grabbed his rear and lifted him up until he sat face-to-face with him. He threw his arms over his shoulders instinctively as he clamped his thighs down on either side for fear of being dropped. But Alessio had no intention to let him go, not when he needed to know one thing remained certain.
“H-How long have we known each other, Ale?” Crimson asked quietly. Although he kept his head bowed, he tilted it back enough so he could peer up at him through softer eyes. “Can’t ya trust me?”
A pang spiked through Alessio’s heart, but he ignored it as he passed a couple fingers through the strands of white hair that escaped from under Crimson’s hat. “As my boss? Always. As my friend… I need to make sure you remember where your loyalties lie.”
Crimson lifted his head up completely then, and Alessio met his gaze for only a second before he turned his attention lower. With the imp still in his arms, he eyed a bare spot on his neck that beckoned to him. Yearned for him to claim it. A rumble emanated from his throat as he shifted forward that shook through the smaller man. He hugged himself closer to him as a barely audible whine escaped his lips. Alessio’s mouth widened, his teeth deadly, sharpened points aimed for flesh; in that moment he became aware of his own excitement as they rubbed against Crimson’s. Twin, throbbing peaks that pressed against his equally hard bulge.
Then, he finally bit into him, and he didn’t hold back.
Above him, the imp threw his head back against the wall hard and bit back a pleasurable scream as those fangs broke through his supple skin. Blackened blood oozed from the open wounds and into Alessio’s hungry maw. He hummed as the iron filled his mouth and quenched his thirst. Fingers raked against the back of his neck as he clamped on and refused to let go of his mate. Yet Crimson did not protest once. He gasped, he whined, and bit back tears, but he did not order him off.
On the contrary, he yearned for more as he shifted against him. Subtly at first, but then he grinded against his partner as he sought for any friction between their stiff erections. He was as needy as he felt, and the way he clinged to Alessio almost dared him to take this further. But he couldn’t risk their hypocrisy being discovered. Not when an unwanted party still awaited them just outside the door.
Alessio ignored the shivers that went through him and unhooked his teeth to replace it with his tongue. One last time he tasted Crimson and drank his fill, until he felt the wound had been cleaned to the best of his abilities. Then he slowly pulled away, pausing only to pull the collar of his ascot up to disguise their minor act of sin.
When he sat himself back again, he saw the act had left Crimson weak. He stared up at him through lidded eyes, his mouth agape. Although he knew they were on borrowed time, he could not leave this display ignored. One last time, he leaned down, and pressed his lips against his. Soft and sweet to juxtapose the violent bite moments ago. The iron of his blood mixed with the taste of the cigars he smoked to form a taste wholly Crimson. A taste he could never truly be satisfied with.
Neither could the imp, as he keened into his mouth. Alessio returned his soft cry with a deep hum as he pushed his tongue into his mouth. He easily overtook him, Crimson didn’t even attempt to fight as he gave himself completely to the man in his arms. Such submission was uncharacteristic of him, and almost made it hard to let him go.
Almost.
He pulled back slowly, his eyes opening to a dazed imp, and the single strand of drool that hung between their mouths. A soft smile splayed over his lips as he wiped it away, then he nodded to him. “You remember now?”
At first, Crimson didn’t respond, still caught in the haze of their love. He blinked a couple times as the question hung in the air, then his pupils dilated as he came back to reality. A hand came up to hastily wipe his own mouth, and his cheeks flushed as he turned his head from Alessio.
“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha.”
Alessio chuckled. “Good, although I wouldn’t mind reminding you again, if you ever have trouble.”
He gave the imp the smallest thrust, which reminded both of them just how hard they were, and his eyes widened. Without warning he began to bat at Alessio with a series of lackluster slaps, only some of which managed to hit their target.
“Alright, let go of me, put me down!”
Alessio laughed, but complied as he gently placed him back on the ground. Before he released him completely, he noticed how his suit had become incredibly wrinkled and messy prior to their engagement. Neither would appreciate any unwanted questions that would arise from this, so he began to carefully brush against his front to straighten out his coat. While not meant to be intimate, he still received the smallest shivers with each careful stroke. They’d definitely have to return to this once they got finished with the ransom.
He put that thought aside, then said, “If you still wish to relax for a few minutes, I suggest we leave now. Don’t want to keep our eyes off the merch for too long.”
Patience must’ve worn thin on Crimson after a while because he eventually waved Alessio off of him so he could look over himself. Satisfied he didn’t appear any different, he nodded.
“We don’t gotta worry, the boys are watchin’ ‘em. It’ll be fine.”
Alessio gave him a single, doubtful, raise of his brow, and Crimson conceded his point. “Yeah, ok, a few minutes and we’ll check on ‘em.”
Alessio gave a curt nod, then moved over to the door. He opened it for Crimson to step through first, then followed him back into the hallway. Striker noticed them immediately, and pushed himself off the wall with a grin. As Crimson approached he took up alongside him and attempted to resume their earlier talk.
“So I was thinkin’, about that bounty? I crossed paths a couple times with your boy and his little lady already. Know how they operate pretty well. Could take care of them for ya next. For a fee, that is,” he chuckled with the rattle of his tail.
Crimson, however, did not respond to him as cordially as before. “Why dontcha focus on the current job, cowboy. Until I see my money, I ain’t gonna be so easily impressed.”
Striker bristled at the response, taken off-guard by his seemingly sudden change in demeanor. Alessio, however, took it all in stride, and cracked a smile as he followed Crimson past the stunned bounty hunter. The look on his face alone put him in a better mood than he had been all day. When Striker caught his eye in those few, short seconds, a sort of understanding had been made clear between them. One similar to that which he imposed on Crimson, and one he hoped he wouldn’t forget either.
He’s mine.