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Borys didn't know how to handle the stress of it.
How many times had he turned his head, bit his tongue, and pinched his skin to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing Matteo by the hair to pull him close?
To press him close against himself, hell, maybe against the desk or wall if the other tried to sneak off with a sneaky trick to throw him off?
It was no different to watching himself burn on a stake, each torturous control testing his limit.
And when he smiled?
That radiant, stupid smile that made his heart race, his skin burn a flushed red, his palms become sweaty as he tries to act nonchalant?
It was testing every nerve in his body.
Borys barely looked up when he sensed a shadow over him, his head tilted to have his blue eyes meet a pair of golden hues.
The main source of all his inner conflicts.
“Borys.” Matteo greeted with a crinkle in his eyes, those lips curved into a breathtaking smile that truly captivated the Russian's lungs in a daze.
“Matteo.” He greeted back unconsciously, his eyes hooded in a lazy manner before he looked away, coughing when he saw that smile widen further.
He messed up.
“Boss, I mean boss.” He corrected himself, ignoring the blush that threatened to climb up his throat to his cheeks.
A hearty laugh, that voice that sung like a harmonious symphony…
Borys could listen to it every single day of his life.
“You know you can call me by name, Borys.” Matteo assured, taking his spot by Borys’ side on the couch within his quaint office.
It was just the two, like always, dancing at the precipitate of friendly manners and casual exchange.
But god, why did it have to be now when his patience was running thin.
“It's not appropriate.” The russian reasoned, earning a chuckle of amusement from the other as the boss itself leaned forth, arms on his knees as he tried to peek at Borys’ hidden face.
“Not appropriate? Now that's something coming from you, dear friend.” He teased, earning a huff of annoyance from the other as both senior members of the mafia sat in idle silence.
There were no words needed, not when they've always been together before and after bonding through hardships.
Borys was calming down, head leaned back until he felt the cushion by his side sink with a gentle dip.
Oh god…
“You look troubled,” Matteo pointed out, leaning close to meet his friend's lazy gaze that slid across the plains to finally fall into contact with his own.
Deep oceanic hues,
Golden sunny shades.
“Gee,” Borys scoffed with a lack of malice, the corner of his lips quirked up to a small smile. “Since when did you become a mind reader?” He jested, watching as his boss’ smile curved into a familiar warm smile.
God.
Give him strength.
Borys wanted nothing more than to sit up, cup the blond man's face and kiss him then and there.
However, he was able to hold himself back with his free hand gripping the armchair subtly beneath his fingers as he tore his gaze away.
“Shouldn't you be working?” Borys scrutinized, a nervous laugh jumping out of those lips as Matteo pulled back, scratching his cheek while turning away.
A guilty gesture.
“Oh come on, I've been working for a bit now, don't I deserve a small break?” Matteo mused, taking his stand from his seat to walk to his desk where a few papers were left as a stack to be worked on. His form stood right against the light by the window, casting a perfect glow against his glass specs and his warm yellow hair.
Borys drank in the sight with a relaxed form, his gaze softened to a state of admiration as he engraved the moment deep within his memories.
Before his sights met Matteo’s once more.
“You know a picture lasts longer.” The swordsman teased, a cheeky smile dancing across the other’s lips.
Oh, Euonia… Forgive him for what he was about to do.
All sense of restraint left him the moment that playful remark had left the man’s lips, his form finally taking a stand as he stalked towards Matteo’s unsuspecting figure.
The other didn’t feel an ounce of danger in the face of his dear friend, until he turned, coming face to face with Borys’ lax face. No yelp, no cry, no words dared to escape as a calloused hand shot out to cup the back of Matteo’s neck, a sudden pull had golden eyes widen like saucers before the gap that once served as a barrier vanished in a matter of seconds.
Papers flew and glided gently through the air, filling the growing tension that stormed between unspoken lovers as scarred hands reached up to press itself against Borys’ shoulders, a calm facade long gone the moment those rough lips met his own.
Matteo was flustered, confused, and utterly shocked as he backed up—Borys hot on his trail—just as his eyes darted across the office, a sudden nervous jitter within his step until he stumbled back in sync with the russian’s raised fist.
B A M !
Documents fell softly and slid like a feather on smooth wood floors, just as a sharp breath left Matteo’s parted lips.
“Wait – Borys… Shouldn’t we think about this before anything?” He gasped, his voice barely above a whisper as the soldier leaned dangerously close, his ushanka long gone from the small shove the other had delivered to create an attempt of distance.
But Borys was tired of that gap, that ravine of impossible that tore him—no—them, apart from each other.
The soldier didn’t answer Matteo’s call, instead, he leaned even closer until their breath began to mingle into one warm gasp; blue gaze hooded with golden hues shaken.
“Don't tell me to wait or think, Matteo.” Borys murmured with an evident growl of frustration, knuckles tight against the wall that caged Matteo from any means of escape. He wasn’t going to let this moment slip, this window of opportunity that finally presented itself with his patience snapping.
“So utterly exhausted having to play the waiting game with you.” He sneered, strands of his hair falling just as his free hand, unoccupied, reaching to brush a few loose strands and tuck behind Matteo’s ear. His careful, adoring touch differed to the expression and voice he made, his entire demeanor was a sight to behold as Matteo tried to make amends with what he was seeing.
This…
This was Borys, right?
“You ruin me in a way that no other hardship can… So either you tell me to stop… Or I keep on going, Girasole mio…” The endearing call had caused a sudden warmth to erupt from the mafia boss’ cheeks, an unfamiliar call of adoration that left him gaping, a moment of vulnerability that gave Borys every means to take.
Like a starving man in a desolate plain, he feasted.
Lips were locked, a gentle tug upon the lips before a wet tip pushed and scavenged the unknown cavern of Matteo’s mouth, plundering the swordsman speechless as he held both the wall and Borys’ shoulder to keep himself grounded – the intrusion of the other’s tongue against his, each slurp and lick became a white noise of delight, slowly devouring Matter’s sense of reality until he felt those same calloused hands cup the back of his head, guiding his head to small tilt, allowing the other to deepen the kiss with a groan of appreciation.
Unending satisfaction.
Deep in the heat of passion, tongues tied in an oral tango, hands slithered like snakes as Matteo melted into the throes of affection — his arms wrapped around Borys’ neck and shoulder, eyes closed in willing submission whilst the russian pulled the other close against his body, flushed against his own until they kissing like long lost lovers.
Uncaring of their position, their status, their means of appropriation between boss and aid.
Just an unspoken love between fated lovers, longing for more than just mere companionship as their fingers entangled into the other’s hair; gasps and pants leaving through the gaps of kiss, greedily taking what is supposed to be given from the start of their dance of silent yearning.
Borys pushed Matteo further up against the wall, lips and tongue lost in the dance of passion as sapphire jewels peered through open slits, drinking the heady sight of the usual clean and presentable mafia boss in a disheveled state of want.
Of mirrored need for love.
The russian barely moved, parting his lips to finally give Matteo a minute to breathe, lungs singing with sighs of gratitude as Matteo leaned against Borys’ shoulder, giving himself a moment to recuperate himself.
Yet a heavy lull against his ear left him slightly flustered once more.
“Push me away now, and I’ll stop… Pretend this never happened between us.” Borys hushed with minimum control, breath heavy with longing to connect with the other in a kiss or mark of promise.
All it took was one small shove, a weak push.
A final step to back away, and pretend it never existed.
Matteo shook his head, reaching up to remove the thin frames that fogged from the heat of their make out session, leaving Borys enamored even more as he unconsciously gulped.
“I won’t, but…” Matteo leaned close, forehead pressed against the other as they gazed at one another. “This stays between us, like always.”
And the soldier was more than happy with that.
With an affirmation spoken through a silent gaze, both lost lovers were lost in another dance of wet passion, lips locked in a messy kiss of yearning.
Sapphire hues reached out, touching the handle that activated the blinds of the antique office.
Borys couldn’t help the slight twitch of his brow as his gaze tilted to the side, below the window where the yard was occupied by two figures.
Oceanic blue met azure hues, the latter left in utter shock before Borys twisted the handle, closing the blinds completely to hide yet another piece of secrecy.
•
•
•
Alessio sat in the yard, utterly astounded with his jaw slightly hanging.
Had he gone mad?
Was he seeing things?
Surely he was going delusional from what he just saw… Right?
“Chain, baby, did you see that?” The reaper turned to his side where Chain—the cannibal—was in an utter mess; covered in leaves, grass, and flowers.
“What see?” Chain mused in curiosity, eyes of scarlet moving to the direction where Alessio pointed; the office window that belonged to Matteo.
The cannibal tilted his head, looking back at his tutor that stared at the blinds that covered what he truly saw or not.
Alessio shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose while laughing quietly.
“Nothing, nothing… I think the lack of sleep is getting to me…”