Work Text:
It had started off innocently enough- you promise. You’d really just wanted a workout buddy to be with you in the gym, someone that would have the gym bros and ghoul rats fucking off from where you were trying to get a little cardio in. Sure, you’d gone a little over your head with the whole thing, since the second you’d complained about it to Secondo, he’d jumped to protect your virtue or whatever.
What a gentleman. You could see him ogling your ass in the mirror every time you squatted. He’s not being subtle about it either, and while this is exactly what you really were trying to avoid with the other guys, it’s a little hard not to flaunt it in front of the man who spends a good portion of his free time making you find different ways to curse every god that might be listening. Secondo’s gaze is steady as you lift the bar, ever the good little spotter despite the fact the bar is inches away from your chest, which is currently so sweaty that a droplet runs down under your cleve every so often.
He’s smiling.
At least one of you is enjoying working out.
You rack the weight. “Alright, my turn to spot.”
You pull your shirt out, fanning yourself. “Is it just me or-”
“It’s just you. You’re very hot, you know.” His tone is amused. You sigh, looking up at the AC vent with an air of disdain. “No, really, don’t you think the AC is a little….”
You move down on the weight rack, watching as he flops down with his back against it. Your eyes trail down to the little shorts he’s wearing with the same interest he’d been staring at your chest with, the sliver of skin visible on his inner thighs a deeply tempting spot. You purse your lips, getting in position to spot him as he grunts down at you, eyes knowing.
“Can’t fault me for looking, can you?” You murmur quietly to him.
“You finished your routine, yes?” His hands still on the bar.
You stare down at him. “You haven’t finished yours.”
His eyes are a bit hopeful as his hands tap out a short rhythm on the bar.
You frown. “That’s not fair. You have to finish yours.”
He lifts the bar off the rack, lifting it to mid-chest before he moves and ….sits up. You yelp, going forward to grab the weight of the bar at the same time, and he gently pushes it into your hands as you reel back with it. As you stumble to put it on the ground, his hands catch you around your waist, bringing you into his lap the second you’ve set it down. You can feel yourself roll your eyes as you settle onto his lap, sighing as if you’re put on. “Horndog.”
“You think it’s easy to watch you groan and sweat, then?”
“I did actually want to work out when I complained to you about the public Ministry gym.” You pout, shifting in his lap on the weight bench until you’re spread legged over his lap. He chuckles.
This close to him, your nose picks up on his…..well, the acrid smell. Ever the smoker, his sweat has a funny sort of scent to it- something that you’ve always found….
…Well, it’s attractive, but he doesn’t really smell that good.
He nibbles at the space under your ear, tongue peeking out as he attempts to give you a hickey. You grunt, pushing back at his chest as his arm winds around your lower back. You bend, flexing your spine as you glare at him. You can feel him throb in those small shorts against you. You huff. “What am I going to do with you?”
His smile feels warm and pleased as he stares down at you. “I was hoping you’d take me right here on the bench for some extra cardio.”
“We’re disgusting.” You whine.
“You think so, hm?” He lifts his arm, flexing it slightly as he moves to take a deep whiff of his own armpit. The smell wafts over to you dizzingly and you swallow. It’s so……masculine? You don’t know. You’re not going to admit it drives you wild. Watching him workout was always a treat to begin with, but the smell of his sweat as he pounded into you, only able to smell it out of one nostril as he forced your head down into the pillows….
Your throat betrays you, your swallow turning into a shallow gulping noise.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” His voice sounds soothing, one of his hands on the back of your head as he guides you into his armpit. “You tell me.”
Your nose is pressed into his armpit, the soft hair tickling at your nostrils as the smell invades your senses. You give a soft noise, trying to formulate a reasonable response to being shoved into his armpit. You sputter around a thought.
“Disgusting, you said?”
You can’t even see the smug expression you know is on his face. You push back, feeling the sweat in his armpit smear across your face. He allows the motion, chuckling as you come back to glare at him fiercely. “You knew-”
“I saw you smelling my gym shorts.”
You squeak, face flushing red. “I wanted to make sure they were clean, you left them on the floor-”
“And the long inhale you took?”
You settle for glaring at him. “I- I just-”
“Shh.” He cups your jaw, grinning at you in a way that exposes his slightly jagged chipped canine. “It’s okay, you’re disgusting.”
You huff through your nose, not meeting his gaze. “.......If you’re going to….do this with me.”
“Yes?”
Your eyes flicker up, taking in his expression. He seems genuine enough, though you can sense you might never hear the end of it. The teasing, riling you up, pulling your pigtails a little- all in the norm for him anyway, but now that he knows this…
His smile melts into something less sharp, eyes soft as he looks down at you. “I’m listening intently, cara mia.”
You choke a little on your words as you look at his face, feeling the flush like the heat of the room, like a consuming fire, a sunburn. You itch with the feeling of shame for a moment- but, he had seemed just as into the situation as you were. You can feel that he’s still hard between your legs.
“..... Sit on my face.” You mutter.
“What?”
“.....Nevermind all that. Sit on my face.” You grip his shirt tightly in both hands. “In your stupid slutty little shorts, with your sweaty ass, sit on my face.”
The amused smile returns. “Is that all?”
“Are you clean?” You demand, grip tightening ever further as you hold onto him like a lifeline.
“I’m clean.” His gaze is fond. “I had a feeling you might-”
“Shut up.” You hiss. “Sit on my fucking face.”
He gently pushes away from you, maneuvering you to your feet so he can move to stand. He unfolds from the bench, towering over you for a moment as his hand comes up to gently grasp your shoulder. You flop down onto the weight bench, almost folding your hands over your chest, then awkwardly lowering them by your sides, then sighing as he looks down at you. “C’mon, cmere.”
He grabs ahold of the center seam of his tiny shorts and pulls them to the side, exposing the strap of a jockstrap. You moan quietly, feeling your crotch throb. “Fuck, sit-”
He throws a leg over the bench as he moves down, ass hanging above your face. His hole is right over your mouth, and you take the chance to move your hands up to grip onto his thighs, leaning in. That same slimy-off feeling of skin is coupled with your nose pressing up inbetween his cheeks, the same deeply musky, almost herbal, sharp smell of his sweat filling your entire head. You press a desperate kiss to his hole as he lowers into the squatted position, his moan quiet and low. You breathe in deeply, letting his ass hair settle as you press in deeper. Opening your mouth, you press your tongue flat over his hole, licking the sweat away from it. The taste is bitter in your mouth, all salt and skin. Your hips jerk of their own volition and he chuckles, one of his hands on your thigh as he bends a little, forcing himself backwards onto your mouth. You try to breathe, finding only the stench of sweat and the pucker of him against you. You begin licking at him, flexing your tongue as he stills, holding the position. You slobber a path, licking him clean as your fingers dig into his thighs.
After a moment, his amusement turns to impatience. “Come on.” He urges you, voice soft. “Open Daddy up.”
You whimper against him, but obey, pushing the point of your tongue into him. He’d clearly prepared some- the feeling of give to his hole gives him away. You grunt as you press inside his ass, beginning to eat his ass out in earnest. One of his hands comes to the front of his shorts, freeing his cock from the tiny scrap of fabric and the jockstrap. You can hear him spit on his hand as he balances on your thigh, careful not to apply his whole body weight to you. He begins to jerk himself off, the slap of skin adding to your wet, sloppy licking noises. He breathes harder, pace picking up nearly immediately. “Ah, good, good. You’re so good at that, amato.”
You shiver against him, curling your tongue inside. He makes a funny noise, all breathy and hot, so you do it again, feeling something drip onto you from above. He grunts at you. “Just like that, you’ll-”
You repeat the motion several more times, listening to his voice pitch into a whimper. His head hangs forward, bringing his whole body down, and he fumbles to put his hand between your legs on the weight bench. His hips rock back against your mouth as you eat him out, composure lost entirely to the pleasure you’re giving him. Your own goes neglected in the moment, throbbing fiercely. You’re overwhelmed, caged in by his ass, the smell of his body, the feeling of your mouth on him. A moment that never seems to end as you force your tongue into him and fuck a distinctly deep series of noises out of him.
He breathes out hard just then, a punched-out sound that’s followed by a telltale groan through his teeth. His cum paints your left thigh, splattering across your workout gear and down to your knee as he shoots, and while you can’t see the look on his face, you know it’s that blissed out, dopey expression he gets.
He shifts his hips forward, and you hesitantly move back. Your face is damp with sweat and spit, some of it dripping down your chin- maybe even your own sweat mixed in, as it’s still goddamn hot in here.
He grunts as he stands, a slick noise coming from his ass as he tucks himself away. The shorts visibly stick to his wet ass and you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling dizzy.
He smiles down at you. “Did that fufill your little fantasy?”
You stare up at him for a moment, mind empty.
“........My turn.” You say, slow, careful. “In the shower.”
He lifts you from the weight bench like you weigh nothing with a smug grin. “As you desire. Anything you desire- even if it is disgusting.”
You let yourself smile back this time, all teeth and joy.