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It would be a pleasant surprise for Pucci to see Dio visit his church. He was currently staying at Pucci's house for a prolonged visit. During which he usually napped in the safe darkness of their bedroom during the day, or disappeared on his own adventures while his friend went to work. But today he had come to see him there the very moment that his duties ended.
The sun had set low enough that Dio could walk freely in the shade that the trees and buildings cast on the streets, but still shining just enough that the last rays of light found their way through the large painted glass windows that this church had, and bathed the central area in hues of gold and orange.
The place had emptied of both churchgoers and other clergy, so Dio silently sauntered close to where Pucci was absentmindedly smoothing the wrinkles from the altar cloth. He looked like he was in a painting, bathed in the dim sunset light and surrouded by chalices, crosses, and other such trinkets.
It would have been tempting to keep stalking him from the shadows. To see his friend go about doing busywork, confident and poised in his own element. Eyes free to wander all over his elegant figure, posture, and posterior.
But it would be infinitely more fun to sneak up on and surprise him when he thought he was alone in the building. With a few steps Dio closed the distance between the two them and without warning closed his friend in a tight embrace.
And Pucci wasn't nearly as surprised the he thought he was going to be? Instead of yelling out he only inhaled sharply, before glancing behind him then leaning into Dio's arms, tipping his head back onto his shoulder.
Dio couldn't pretend to be disappointed by this outcome. Such trust... The amount of faith a human must have to suddenly feel fangs near one's neck, the most primal source of fear, yet instantly knowing there is no danger.
Though just a peck to the side of the jaw would have to suffice for now. Pucci's neck was well protected. What a clever anti-vampire measure the hight collars of priests were. And it would be, ah, just too improper to disrobe a holy man in his own chapel. This definitely was the reason for Dio's restraint, of course, and not because he had his own type of weakness for a man in a uniform. He instead turned Pucci around and captured his lips.
Pucci melted into the kiss as if this was his very first one, and not a treat he gets to enjoy many times every day that they spend together. Caught by a creature of the night, the arms around him were inhumanly strong and he had to bend to wherever they guided him. Dio dipped him back and licked greedily into his mouth.
Though Pucci was not doing a great job playing the role of a captured and reluctantly seduced clergyman. His hands were all over Dio's chest, groping and squeezing, then reaching lower still.
Dio always dressed for easy access. His fly unbuttoned wide open and his black skintight top stayed where it was rolled up to reveal his muscular stomach. He would have wanted to keep kissing Pucci, while the other man was already rubbing his palms all over his now exposed penis. Fingertips teasing it to full hardness from beneath the foreskin. Small part of Dio wanted to protest not everything going exactly according to his wishes, but his arousal always got the better of him. If Pucci desired his body so, who was he to be stingy.
After a minute of more kissing, and Pucci caressing the shaft, he then moved the long hems of his robe aside so they would not get dirty under his knees, and sank down to face Dio's manhood straight on.
What an awful and unbecoming sight. Dio was trembling from how intensely desire burned him. A handsome priest down on the floor with his mouth open, soft tongue awaiting for a gift to be placed on it. Well fitted robes hugging every curve of his frame. And completely devoid of shame, as if he was completely blind for any wrongs he was committing here.
And what would that make Dio? A clawed beast pulling a pious man to hell. Or at least a scantily clad harlot teasing one with a sharp manicure. Same thing, really.
The hushed words "My Dio..." suddenly made the air surrounding them suffocatingly hot and his cock visibly twitched where it stood between the two of them.
No, this was not wrongdoing. Other practitioners of Pucci's religion had no right to tell him how to express his love, Dio thought, angry on his friend's behalf. He himself had fought a long bloody battle to become truly free like this.
One of Dio's hands settled on the back of Pucci's head, the other under his jaw. His grip was not forceful, but it also did not allow him to move a millimeter in any other direction. The only way Pucci had a choice in was to be speared onto the dominating erection pointed at his face.
Despite being hard as a rock, Dio was ice cold from walking out in the chilly evening air. If Pucci wanted to flinch from the sensation, he supressed it very well.
As for Dio, the contrast made Pucci's mouth scorchingly hot inside. Ahh, of course a holy man's prayer soaked lips would burn a vampire. It was hellfire and blinding heavenly light when Pucci fit all of him in with practiced ease.
Hands still holding Pucci's head in place, Dio's hips would be setting the pace here. A slow one at first. Though the look in Pucci's dark eyes was as assured as ever. And Dio would not have it any other way. He continued shallowly thrusting.
Languid suckling gradually warmed him up and made him slick for Pucci's lips to smoothly slide up and down the shaft.
Pucci brought his hands up and together at the base of Dio's cock. With his head angled slightly, from a certain point of view it would look like he was simply kneeling down in prayer. Dio's hand at the back of his head adding to the illusion of someone bowing their head in reverence. Or seeking forgiveness from a father.
Little by little Dio allowed him to move more. The other man's head and upper body bobbing back and forth against his loins now betrayed clearly what was happening between the two of them.
In the early days of their relationship Pucci's attempts of pleasuring Dio with his mouth had been charmingly hopeless. He could only lick and kiss the member while Dio held it to his face, but even fitting the tip in his mouth proved to be too much. He was clumsy and nervous about every detail of the process. And so scared of disappointing his new friend.
But Dio had pushed him through it, helped him grow.
And now his reward was the privilege to witness this enticing scene whenever he wanted it
And why wouldn't Pucci lap at him so hungrily. Dio was God and Devil wrapped into one of a kind flavour of sin. Heavenly demon who will lead you to your doom and salvation all in one night.
He now stood as the golden idol worshipped in this temple. If someone were to walk in, they'd see him stand tall and proud facing the congregation, lit by the reflections from the gilded furnishings, framed by paintings and carvings of saints, angels, and other such servants.
Pucci, with his back turned and draped in a dark cassock and his head bowed down, would blend into the shadows as one of them.
It was inconsequential to Dio who the characters painted in the stained glass were. Considering what kind of action they were currently witnessing, the two fingers they held up in every image might as well been an obscene gesture, instead of a religious one.
The scene was glorious to behold, but it was not a pure and clean one. What forced the paintings of saints out of Dio's head were carnal sensations. Saliva coated lips and tongue squeezing and massaging him rhytmically, pressing suction, little sounds of slurping. Chin hitting sack and sweaty skin sticking a little bit with each contact, because Dio preferred to be clean shaven.
These sensations were more powerful than mere fancy drawings and other items that were supposed to make this a place of God. As a vampire, flesh and blood were his real dominion.
If Dio had been even a little less egotistical, he would think it was such a waste for Pucci to be a priest. His friend was too ravishing to be hiding his body under long robes and brushing other people away with dismissive words. He could be out in there in the world effortlessly charming anyone he wanted to fall in bed with him. But instead he was all Dio's.
And Pucci was no dutiful nun protecting her purity either, he worshipped Dio with his body with the same dedication like it was a part of his clergical duties, headstrong like a bishop in charge of his cathedral. And nowhere did a preacher look better than down on the floor with his lips wrapped around a devil's cock.
Vulgar, maybe, but Dio let a quiet "....fffuuck..." fall from own his lips.
His attempts at megalomania failed immediately when Pucci pulled back and playfully traced a vein with his tongue while looking up with his wide beautiful eyes. He'd noticed that his friend got distracted staring at the scenery.
Of course there were no mirrors here for Dio to vainly gawk into. The only one worthy of attention here was Pucci. Sunlight transferred the roses and lilies from the stained glass right onto his skin and hair in warm hues. He was the one who deserved to be painted on these walls, instead of whoever these long dead zealots were.
And although the sunlight was filtered enough not to burn Dio's skin, the soft bloom all of over the hall was starting to sting his eyes. He could pretend it was the holiness of this place rejecting him, a century of blessings and prayers building a protective aura repelling the horrors of the night. Instead of the much more mundane and physical sort of UV-sensitivity he suffered from.
He closed his eyes to ease the pain, and was hit with the euphoria of fellatio feeling ten times as intense. Without him noticing the dominant hold on Pucci's head had turned into him petting his hair and caressing his cheek.
He would not degrade Pucci by reducing him to a servant, a disposable prop just to create a pretty image to get off on.
But God, how he wanted to fuck that composure out of him.
Dio took a wider stance, accommodating Pucci right between his legs, determined to thrust as deep and hard as it would take until he'd see his jaw go slack and his eyes roll back.
So far Pucci was always able to take everything that Dio gave him.
Wet noises of their intercourse reverberated in the church, where acoustics were masterfully tuned to usually echo the sound of hymns and sermons loud and clear to every dark corner of the building. Dio let out a few self-satisfied hums, and enjoyed how they carried through the air.
Puccis hands came up to grasp Dio's thighs, shiny yellow fabric bunching up between his fingers, and Dio knew he's finally breaking through his barriers. Sniffling breaths Pucci was able to take through his nose became louder and shorter.
One particularly forceful thrust made Pucci's entire body jolt, and on the next one Dio paused his movements while still buried to the hilt inside. Both of their chests were heaving from the effort. Pucci's from the need for oxygen, and Dio needing an outlet for the intense pleasure he was almost overwhelmed by.
What a beautiful, physically affectionate friendship they shared, he marveled. Pucci's body pressed against Dio's legs, his lips pressed to where the thick organ connected to his body.
Ohh, he could have stayed like that forever if his friend did not have so much trouble breathing in this position. Reminder of that were the warm but strained exhales tickling the skin of his stomach.
Dio realised he was subconsciously caressing Pucci's hairline with his thumb again. Besides his furrowed eyebrows, it was still impossible to tell if his friend was at all affected by this, or just deeply concetrated on his task, while Dio was slowly losing his mind from the sensation.
He had completely missed at what point the two of them had brough their hands together, and laced their fingers with one another.
A few more frantic thrusts, and Pucci's eyes were closed at the moment of Dio's climax.
Good, he wouldn't catch the no doubt pathetic desperate expression that Dio had in on his face, and Dio would get to look at his delicate white eyelashes elegantly fanned over his soft cheeks. He trembled with the anticipation of getting to dirty this angelic sight with his semen.
The orgasm tore a loud unrestrained moan from his throat. The wave of pleasure so strong he felt it wash through his limbs down to his fingertips, while his cock twitched and pulsed, shooting several streams of come into the other's mouth. He had to grip Pucci's head again, and this time the violent jerks of Dio's hips made him gag slightly.
Again they stopped in that same position for a few heartbeats before relaxing. Pucci did not let out a cough and barely a gasp when Dio finally pulled back his length out of his throat.
Comforting darkness had finally fallen. Dio's eyes could see clearly again, and his skin was rapidly cooling back down. No longer itchy too, both from the physical release, and because the last rays on sunshine finally dissolved into the shadows.
Wet stringy spit decorated the embroidery on Pucci's chest and dripped down to the polished stone floor between them. Mix of saliva and cum trickled down his jaw, he hadn't been able to swallow it all in one go because of the sheer amount. Pucci's facade breaks just for a moment when he can't stop himself from leaning back in and greedily licking and cleaning whatever of it was still left sticking to Dio's now soft cock.
Though Dio was so oversensitised that even this made him flinch. To hide the humiliating tremble in his legs he leaned his weight back against the altar to compose himself. Then a sweatdrop falling down his back triggered another shiver.
His strength surpassed a mere human manyfold, but again, his best efforts to debauch the other man had been in vain. Of course Pucci was aroused, but several layers of clothing hid his erection almost completely. He looked barely disheveled and hardly even sweaty. After all of that not a hair was out of place, and the only evidence of what had transpired were the bodily fluids glistening on his lips and chin. And somehow, even those he managed to wear with elegance and dignity. With slightly flushed cheeks and a soft smile that made his normally intense eyes sparkle with happiness, one might think he had just received only a goodnight's kiss from his lover.
Dio could do nothing else but fall to his knees right beside his friend.