Chapter Text
“Mok, wait. Don’t just walk away from me. Hear me out. Please.” sighed Rome helplessly, his earnest eyes trying to work their charm against the rage Mok has been carrying since the morning briefing happened.
Rome went too far, he’d known that.
He knew Mok would not be happy with this, but he convinced himself otherwise that it was necessary, a decision made out of love and protection - no matter how naive and one-sided his intentions were.
“Khun Kritdanai, I’m working right now,” Mok said tightly. “I advise you to keep your distance. I have things to do.”
It was the best response he could manage without flaring up and hurling whatever within reach at Rome.
Mok was furious and no words seemed to soothe the anger, not the soft voice Rome always used with him; not the gentle tugs used to gain his attention, and most definitely not the pleading, affectionate eyes that Mok yielded to more often than he cared to admit.
Rome cut into Mok’s path.
“I did it because I was scared for you. This job is dangerous. You and I both know it. I can’t let you walk to your own demise. You….are my life, Mok. Don’t you understand?”
He whispered, as though afraid that raising his voice would hasten Mok’s exit.
Mok paused.
He loved Rome, he knew why Rome had done it.
But understanding didn’t always equate to accepting or forgiving.
All he felt was the crushing weight of doubt, after years of loyal duty and competence.
Did that…mean nothing to Rome? To Khun Thee? To the Arseni family?
The indignant feeling nagged heavily at his chest.
I know why, Rome,” Mok said harshly as he stripped away the honorific “But you can’t do that, you can’t just undermine me like this. You know I’m more than capable of handling the job,”
He hesitated before continuing.
Or is it that you don’t trust my abilities? Or you don’t trust me? Have I not proven myself enough? So much so that you had to request Khun Thee to remove me from the job behind my back?” Mok’s jaw clenched, “Even Khun Thee knew better to tell me the truth…”
“That’s not fair, Mok. You know I’d trust you with my life. It’s others that I don’t trust. I can risk everything else. But I can’t…I can’t risk you.”.
Mok flinched at the desperation in Rome’s voice - the helplessness of having the love of his life in the frontline of his family’s hostile affairs. He knew if Rome had a choice, he would take Mok’s place any given moment just to keep him far away and safe from all the bloodshed.
Mok froze, then let his gaze at the man who stood in front of him with, the man who loved him fiercely and devotedly; who tried so hard in his own foolish ways to shield Mok from harm’s way out of love. Mok felt his heart give way, a tight ache tearing through his chest.
The rage ebbed but feelings of hurt and sabotaged pride remain like poison.
Without warning, he grabbed Rome by the wrist and dragged him down the stairs into the basement of the property.
__________________
The Arseni firing range was a concealed fortress built specially for private use.
Buried beneath the property, it was reinforced with thick, dark concrete walks designed to keep things in rather than out; in: sound, scent, and sights. The air was heavy with the faint smell of metal and burnt powder; the raw taste of iron and dust lingered stubbornly in the surroundings.
The long fluorescent light hung dim and harsh, running down all 4 lanes, separated by partitions of dense polymer and steel. At the end of each lane stood multiple automatic target carriers sliding black-circled paper bullseyes back and forth along metal tracks.
A long steel workbench at the side of the room piled with weapons of every variety; short and long pistols of various make; scattered magazines; boxes of ammunition opened and half-used; cleaning kits laid out like tools on a surgical table.
Once inside, Mok released Rome’s wrist and met his confused gaze. The silence, thick as ice, as the door behind them sealed with a hydraulic hiss.
“Okay Rome. If you think I wouldn’t succeed in this job, convince me. Prove it to me, show me that my skills are not up to par. Win me here, and I’ll forgive you. Lose, and things go back to the way they were, how things were supposed to be”
Rome wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, especially not one for his love. Without hesitation, he spoke
“Deal. I’ll win this Mok, for you.”
—----------------
Mok walked to the fitst lane and stood over the counter before taking off his jacket revealing the leather shoulder holster underneath his blazer, the same leather straps crossing his chest area, knitting his white shirt tight to his body, emphasizing lines of defined lean muscle beneath evident with every movement. He then drew out his SIG P320 Compact from his side - sharp, clean, balanced and clinical.
Rome took off his coat to reveal the leather belt riding low on his hips and instinctively drew the Staccato P, the look of precision and power in his hands.
Rome wore a simple black silk shirt that glided over his muscles without clinging.
The shirt was unbuttoned at the collar with sleeves rolled carelessly onto his forearms that accentuated his casual charisma.
Same lane, same targets.
Mok went first.
Goggles worn into place, ear muffs tight on the side of his face, silencing the world to a vacuum. His visions narrowed down to the single lane and the target waiting at the far end.
Mok’s white shirt no longer pristine, wrinkled at the back showing signs of heat and strain while he raised the pistol with effortless grace like second nature.
Then, shots erupted in concussive cracks like thunder in a quiet grassfield, continuously and relentlessly. Mok fired without pause or hesitation, his aim razor-sharp and focused.
Rome watched from behind, eyes shadowing each precise movement of Mok’s body.
He never failed to be drawn in by Mok, his quiet composure; confidence, that lethal, merciless precision.
His eyes did not - could not, tear away from Mok, he focused on how the muscles of his back and arms stretched and tightened with every recoil. Controlled. Dangerous. Beautiful.
He thought of the strong and powerful person in front of him, composed and lethal, and how devastating he looked every time he lost composure, how he softened beneath Rome by choice.
A new wave of heat and tension hit Rome, he felt it in his chest and somewhere lower, causing him to shift his legs in anticipation whilst having his eyes fixed on Mok like a predator gunning for the most dangerous prey ever existed.
Mok fired his last few shots and stilled, his breath caught when he felt the immense pressure from Rome’s gaze. Rome always had this crippling effect on Mok, making him painfully aware of his own body like he was put on display.
The rage that consumed him earlier was long gone, as if fired out with the shots he triggered just moments ago. Now all that’s left was a vivid awareness of Rome’s eyes on him and an unsettling tension between them.
Mok didn’t look at Rome, not yet, unsure of what those affectionate eyes may show.
He stepped aside and allowed Rome to take his position.
Rome felt the pressure but forced himself to dismiss it before dragging his focus back to the targets ahead, acutely reminded of the stakes of this match: Mok’s safety. He shifted his stance and started to fire, his 9mm roaring in the silent room with more aggression and power than Mok’s.
He fired like his life was on the line, because it was, and Rome was unstoppable.
As if untainted by the loudness of the room, Mok’s eyes never left Rome’s back, his focus zeroed in on Rome, witnessing him in all his prowess and strength.
He knew this look - it was the same look Rome wore when he shielded Mok with his own body during those gang fights; the same look when Rome offered himself in exchange for Mok as a hostage; the same look when Rome confessed and promised Mok his love and devotion.
Rome wanted to win, desperately and in that desperation, Mok heard the unspoken words
I will keep you safe. I will protect you. I will beat you even at your own game if that’s what it takes.
Mok watched as the knowledge crept upon him - pride and arrogance had no place here.
So he watched as Rome’s shoulders flex with each press of the trigger, forearms held straight and unwavering, grip brutal and unyielding. Sweat beads formed at the back of Rome’s neck and Mok’s gaze followed as they slipped beneath the collar and disappeared into the darkness of his silk shirt.
Mok’s heart raced, not from heat or pressure, but from the overwhelming realization (or reminder) of Rome’s intense affection for him.
Rome lowered his gun after hearing the click of his last shot and felt movement behind him - Mok.
______________
Mok was on him in a split second, one hand gripping the back of his neck, pulling Rome in as if to merge their separate bodies together. Their mouths crashed together, all tongues and teeth. Rome melted immediately into the touch, both hands went straight to Mok’s waist to tug him closer.
Mok kissed him like he’d been starved for days and Rome responded with the same, if not greater, intensity like a devout worshipper conceding to his pull. Mok slid his hand from the back of Rome’s neck to thread into his hair, tilting his face to deepen the kiss before leaving a trail of wet kisses roaming downwards through Rome’s mouth, his chin, jawline, neck, until he latched on a small pulse point he knew would snap Rome’s control.
And he did.
Rome groaned, his grip tightened around Mok’s waist as he pulled his hips closer. He spun Mok around, grabbed the back of his thighs and lifted him effortlessly onto the counter.
Then with a smirk, the same one Mok was powerless against, Rome spoke in a reverent tone, fingers tracing slow gentle lines down Mok’s spine, making him quiver with pleasure.
“Can Mok forgive Rome?” Then a kiss.
“Rome just wants Mok safe”. Another kiss.
“Rome loves Mok so much, needs Mok so much. Can I show you?”
He paused, looking up at Mok, praying, waiting for the beautiful sight before him to give in.
Mok leaned in for another kiss in answer, hot and hungry, louder than any words could reply. Rome drank in every moan and sound Mok made with feverish joy. Every gasp parted Mok’s lips just enough for Rome to take advantage and slip his tongue inside to savor Mok like an exquisite meal.
Mok’s hands roamed over Rome’s body, tracing the lines of his neck, shoulders and biceps before settling them with a slight pressure in the middle of his chest. Rome’s racing pulse, mirroring his own, was deafening.
Without breaking the kiss, Mok gently tugged on the buttons of Rome’s shirt. One by one, they fell apart silently to reveal the entirety of Rome’s chest, radiating heat that Mok basked in with each touch on bare skin. Mok’s hands moved lower, easing Rome out of his bottoms until Rome stood bare in front of him; his length already growing undoubtedly hard under Mok’s affection.
Rome’s hands surged up hastily to unbuckle and remove the holster, discarding it on the floor carelessly before skilfully undoing the buttons of Mok’s shirt. He then helped Mok out of his pants and felt his own desire surging fiercely as Mok’s body mirrored and responded in the same unmistakable want and need for Rome.
Rome was breathless at the sight of Mok beneath him like this…
How this beautiful, fearless and powerful individual chose Rome. Chose to trust Rome with all his vulnerabilities willingly. Chose to protect and love him and his family without asking for much in return. He ached for Mok in a way he had never felt for anyone else.
They now stood within inches of each other, quickened breaths filling the noiseless room. Their lips met for another time, stripped away of the urgency but leaving the desperate need intact. Rome’s grip tightened with every passing second, their hips grinding together achingly , chasing friction as both of their members stood flushed red and hard with desire.
Mok, you don’t know how much you mean to me. So much that I can’t bear the thought of losing to you. Would you let Rome..show you just how much I love you? Now? Here?
Mok’s resistance crumpled hearing Rome’s voice just like that.
Mok loved how unwavering Rome’s presence was, how steadfast and how sincere his love was. He wanted Rome just as badly too.
Mok nodded.
Rome surged forward without wasting another second, lips finding Mok’s neck, kissing, sucking and soothing relentlessly. He trailed lower to Mok’s collarbone, grazing his teeth possessively, earning a soft moan from his love.
Wet kisses followed, over Mok’s chest, his pecs, his abs and Rome’s tongue flicked gently over one of his nipples, causing Mok’s back to arch sharply in this simulation.
He lifted two fingers to Mok’s lips; “Suck baby”
And Mok did. He took them in his mouth, tongue circling and coating them with slick as Rome watched with a burning gaze. When Rome pulled his fingers free, he kissed Mok again, deeper and rougher as his desire grew. His slicked hand sliding down to wrap around Mok’s hardened length to pump him steadily.
“Oh god Rome..”
Mok groaned as he threw himself backwards, flat on the counter. Eyes squeezed shut from the sudden intensity.
Rome’s eyes were half-lidded now, hazed with want.
He stroked Mok a few more times before sliding lower, fingers teasing the tight circle of muscle beneath, drawing out louder pants and moans from Mok.
The tip of his finger throbbed his rim gently with gentle and small motions, inching inside slowly as Mok’s grip stiffened around Rome’s shoulders and arms.
“God you feel so good, so good for me baby” Rome coaxed as he planted kisses everywhere over Mok’s face, his lips, his neck…
As soon as the first digit was moving freely and easily, Rome quickly added a second…and a third, scissoring and curling inside Mok.
“You’re so tight, Mok, so perfect..” Rome murmured, still kissing along Mok’s body, soothing him through the intrusion of his thick fingers.
Mok’s breath stuttered. Mok was overwhelmed with the sensation that was Rome’s fingers.
“Rome”, was all he could let out together with sounds of whimpers and moans as Rome worked him open. His rim clenched and loosened repeatedly, as though getting used to this intrusion, getting used to being opened up, getting used to Rome. Moans filled the air as Mok shifted down against Rome's hand, chasing more pleasure.
“Fuck”
Mok swore as his entire body jolted when it hit - Rome’s fingers rubbed against the small bundle of nerves that forced a scream out from Mok. Mok sank his fingers down, forming crescent marks all over Rome’s back as he caught Rome’s lip for another desperate kiss to match whatever intense sensation he was feeling.
A few slight throbs and pushes towards his prostate was all it took
“Rome, I need you. Now”
Mok gasped, composure stripped away by the extreme wave of pleasure.
That was all it took for Rome to crumble.
Seeing Mok, hearing Mok, feeling Mok like this was getting unbearable. His cock, now ached with need, was leaking and desperate.
He shifted their bodies while lining himself up in front of Mok’s entrance before pushing slowly inside of him. Feeling the immense heat made Mok’s eyes fly shut, face folding into the crook of Rome’s neck as his body momentarily paralyzed from the sheer warmth of Rome’s girthy length breaching his rim. Rome stilled, allowing Mok’s body time to adjust to the pressure of him pushing against his inner walls as he bottomed out
Everything about Rome being inside of him; his size, his heat, every twitch and movement drove Mok deeper into euphoria.
“Rome, move, Please”
And Rome did, crashing their mouths together, overwhelmed by the feeling of being joined with the love of his life like this. The thrusts started slow, drawing endless moans and gasps from Mok,
“Fuck. Yes. Let me hear you, Mok. You feel so good, so perfect, like you were made for me.” Rome groaned.
Slow thrusts soon grew to rough, harsh slamming of hips as obscene sounds filled the still room. The rhythm turned brutal as Mok’s hands clawed at Rome’s back while his legs wrapped tighter and needy around Rome’s hips.
A dirty moan tore through Mok the instant Rome pressed forward, folding Mok further, bringing his thighs closer to his chest. The shift in angle let Rome pound directly into that sensitive nub inside him.
“Yes fuck! Right there! ” Mok yelped as tears threatened the corners of his eyes.
His back arched clean off the counter while his hips tilted down to meet Rome’s tenacious thrusts.
Rome let out a low growl as he railed himself faster and deeper into Mok. Heat coiled tight and wretchedly low in his body as he took in the pure, ecstatic sight of Mok.
“Oh..god..Rome…”
Mok cried out, eyes rolling back as he came apart beneath Rome. His orgasm crippling him like a wave, letting his release spill between them as Rome kissed his tears away, slow and loving.
But the sight of Mok losing control, hearing the desirous sounds of broken exhales; feeling the way Mok clenched even tighter around him, it was enough to throw Rome sharply over the edge.
“Mok…” was all he could voice as he clasped the side of Mok’s hips and ramped into him one last time. The force of Rome’s own orgasm hit like a brutal train, wiping his mind blank, save for the intense pleasure and warmth of coming apart in Mok, spilling deep within him.
Mok trembled at the sensation of hot fluids overflowing his inside, letting a soft whimper escape him as Rome stayed buried inside, riding out the aftershocks together.
By the end, both of them were slicked with sweat, breathless and panting from shared pleasure. Their arms remained tangled with each other, chest rising and failing in unison and waited for their pulses to slow.
Mok knew that surrender was inevitable.
Rome always had his way, and this time was no exception, not when Rome’s fierce devotion and protectiveness spoke louder than any duty and service Mok had to abide by.
“I’m sorry for what I did.” Rome murmured “I trust you, I always do. But I love you, Mok, too much to risk you. You’re my world”.
Mok softened, like he always did.
“I know.” Mok said softly “And I love you too Rome”