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Now that the cast was off 182's hand, he felt less stuffled. He could finally stretch and flex his hand, his only hand. He didn't mind having to rely on Dante, but what he hated the most was how the Doctor was also there to help him. He's such a bastard; he should've just stayed at that hospital and left him and the teacher alone.
He was currently behind Dante and Hairen. The two of them were lost in a conversation he wasn't listening to. Instead, he was glaring at the back of the doctor's head. The bastard didn't even care, just talking away with his teacher. He was the one who rescued Dante from the wall; he was the one who led Dante around fog land (albeit he had no idea where he was going, he was following Dante like a lost puppy). Dante was his. Dante wore his clothes, which meant he was his.
Ah, but now that he thinks about it… Dante's new uniform doesn't have 182 on it. For a moment, he was debating on ripping off Dante's number and messily cutting in 182 into his button-up. His gaze moved from the doctor to the teacher, his eyes lingering on his backside. The crease of his shirt tucked into his pants, the sun glaring down at them, highlighted the older man's figure. The jumpsuits were too thick, so he had never noticed. He never really wanted to look at Dante when they were alone in his jail cell with the toilet just a few feet away, so he never really paid attention.
But now? Oh, Dante had his full attention. The dress pants hugged his rear and waist perfectly, almost as if it was made for him. The glint of the setting sun glaring off his Rolex watch blinded 182 when they turned down a road. That snapped him out of his thoughts; his eyes stopped oogling Dante, and he focused on where they were going.
"We should find a place to settle tonight," Dante started, raising a hand to block out the sun. "We're… not going to be lying in the streets again, right?"
"We can look around, maybe kick a guy out of his room," Hairen replied nonchalantly.
"Fine, let's split up. Meet back here when the sun reaches the horizon?"
"That works for me," the doctor raised his hand in a wave, "gets that bastard to stop glaring at the back of my head."
"What?" Dante turned to stare at 182, who was staring right back at him. "Were you glaring at him?"
"…No," 182 dismissed, flicking his eyes to the side, avoiding eye contact.
Dante stared at him for a few seconds, those beautiful eyes making 182 squirm. However, that didn't last long as the older man sighed and turned away, starting to walk away to find a place they could crash for the night. The doctor was going a different direction, but 182 didn't bother looking where he went. Instead, he started to follow Dante, not caring that they were supposed to be splitting up.
"Why are you following me?! You need to go look around," Dante retorted, whipping his head back to stare at the younger man.
"I don't want to go alone," 182 replied with a click of his tongue, the mask hiding his facial expressions. In reality, he didn't want to leave Dante's side. What if he decides to leave him again? What if another bastard clings to him like that couple from before? The ones that nearly got him killed? He couldn't stand it! Dante was his. His. His. His. Dante belonged to him, just like anything that had the numbers 182 on it.
He wanted to make that doctor bastard understand that, but he had a feeling Dante would not like being carved with those three numbers. Not only that, but it would probably break his heart seeing the older man bleed. He didn't want him to get hurt.
"Ahhh, do whatever you want," the teacher dismissed, easily giving up. No matter how hard he tried, 182 was not going to stop following him.
Wandering around like headless chickens, they find a relatively empty alleyway. No prisoners in sight. It was blocked from the sun, so it was dark and isolated, much to Dante's dismay. He wanted to sleep inside, but no one was willingly going to let them crash at their place. They had no fog, so no one wanted three extra mouths to feed.
"What a waste," Dante scoffed, kicking a piece of trash on the ground. "You think this is alright, 182? I'm sure we won't get caught here. But what if we go back to Dr. Hairen and someone ends up finding this place? Maybe one of us should wait here and go get him. What if he found a place?"
The older man rambled more, but 182 had stopped listening when the other had said his name. His eyes trailed back onto his body, the curve of his nose, the way his lips jut out in a pout, and most importantly, the way he turned and comfortably had his back to 182. That meant he trusted him, right?
182 lowered the bag he carried on his shoulder, the sound alerting Dante.
"What's up? You wanna stay—" he was cut off as he watched 182 take steps closer to him, his voice caught in his throat. He took cautious steps back until he hit the wall of the alleyway. "…182? Is… is something wrong?"
"Do you stare at him that way?"
Dante froze, 182 can see emotions flickering through his mismatched eyes. His blue eye was almost glowing, just like his own. He focused on the way he could see Dante's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.
"…What? Stare at… who? Hairen?"
"Don't say that bastard's name. Do you stare at him like that, too? Ever since he joined us, you won't stare at me anymore…" 182 spoke, the bag on his face hiding the way his lips trembled and his eyebrows furrowed. The only context clues the teacher could grasp onto were the way his voice cracked and dipped.
"What's got you feeling this way? I'm not ignoring you, I promise. Just because we have another person with us doesn't mean I'm going to drop you off somewhere. You're stuck with me," Dante joked, lips curling up into a smile. It was a movement 182 locked in on.
He felt something stir inside his body. Something that went straight downwards. Why was that simple smile making him feel this way? It was intoxicating.
"I…" he started, sticking his blue tongue out to lick his dry lips. "I don't know," he restarted. "I don't like it when your attention is on someone else." He started to avoid the eyes of the older man, instead looking down the dark alleyway. Not a thing moved; they were utterly alone.
Before Dante could reply, 182 spoke again. "You belong to me. I don't want to share with that bastard."
"What?! What the hell are you talking about? I belong to you?" Dante retorted, almost as if he was offended. "Since when did I belong to you?"
"You wore my clothes. Those were mine. I let you into my home, and I followed you here. You belong to me." The younger man tilted his head as if he couldn't understand why Dante was so offended.
"Wait, wait, wait." Dante raised a hand to push up his glasses. "Are you… confusing friendship with ownership?"
Blinking at the shorter man, 182 tilted his head in the opposite direction. "Nah."
"What do you mean, 'nah'?"
"I want you. I don't… understand it either." He raised his hand to take off the black bag from his head, exposing his facial expression to the teacher. The way the tips of his ears burned, and the back of his neck wasn't any better. His eyebrows were furrowed, and it almost looked as if he was glaring down at him, if it wasn't for the way he was flushed.
Dante took a few seconds, but he clicked the dots together. "You… you like me. That must be it. Let me ask you, how does this make you feel?" He raised his arms and wrapped them around 182's neck, pulling their faces closer.
It was an immediate response; 182's ghostly pale skin flushed, and his eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
"Now… how would this make u feel if I did this to Hairen?"
"I'll kill him." His facial expression did a complete 180.
"Ah! Don't do that! Okay, okay, I get it. But look, you can't own me, 182. I'm my own person. However, we can do things that you wouldn't be able to do with just friends." Dante slid his hands across the younger man's broad shoulders, up into his hair. "Would you.. like to try?" To 182, he could hear that slight voice crack, the shaky voice, as if he was afraid to keep going.
"Yes. As long as you do it with me, and me only." He had no idea what Dante was even talking about. There are things they can do that friends don't do? What is he on about? He's seen people brutally murdered, fighting for their lives, high off their minds. But… things friends don't do? He was at a loss.
"Of course…" the older man's voice was soft; his eyes flickered to 182's lips. He saw an emotion flash in those beautiful eyes, an emotion 182 couldn't name. But he didn't have time to, as Dante stood on his toes, latching their lips together.
It genuinely took 182 a few moments before realizing what had happened, his arm reaching out to grasp Dante's shirt. Pressing into the kiss, his hand trembled. However, it wasn't as much as Dante's hands were in his hair. Was Dante more nervous than he was? He watched the way Dante's eyelashes trembled, brushing against his cheeks. His nose pressed into Dante's cheek, a gasp leaving his lips as he felt the older male bite lightly against his bottom lip.
Oh fuck, his tongue was in his mouth. 182 finally closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling of their tongues battling in each other's mouths, listening to the way Dante moaned, sparks flying through his veins down to his cock. Stumbling forward, he pressed his body flush against Dante's, trapping him on that dirty alleyway wall. 182 was so huge compared to Dante; if you were standing right behind them, the older man couldn't even be seen.
Rutting his hips forward, 182's hand slid from his waist to his head, grabbing the back of the teacher's skull, pulling him ever closer. It was a battle between strength, and Dante was losing big time. 182 honestly believes he wanted that to happen with the way the older man's hands roamed his torso. Soft hands dragging along his jumper, pressing into his body with such need.
There wasn't even a moment when they split apart to breathe; they both struggled to breathe through their noses, desperate not to lose any seconds of their kiss. It was as if they were so hungry for each other, it would've been the end of the world if they broke apart to breathe.
Their hips are grinding against each other, their clothing not even being a barrier to stop their pleasure. Dante raised his leg, wrapping it around 182's waist. He would've loved it, but it was just the fact that it was his right side. He couldn't grab that lovely thigh and slide his hand down, groping at his flesh. He couldn't! His amputated arm couldn't grab him; it was torture. Ah… maybe he does love it after all. Dante squeezed him closer, the new angle allowing his clothed erection to rut better into the older man.
However… he did notice something. Dante didn't have a bulge in his pants as he did. But the older man was moaning into his mouth; every rut of his hips caused him to squirm and flinch under him. Despite his confusion, he couldn't stop his hips, seemed as if Dante couldn't either. Each time their hips ground against each other, the older man would twist his hips.
182 had to pull away from the kiss, much to the teacher's dismay, a whine emitting from his throat as he tried to chase him. "Teacher… it.. it feels weird. I don't.. I don't understand."
"It feels good. You're doing so well, keep rutting into me like that. It'll blow your mind," Dante slurred, encouraging him to keep going. "You're gonna cum for me, yeah? Be a good boy and cum in your pants for me?"
He didn't have to ask him twice; his lips pursed, and his brows furrowed. He was racing this feeling, raspy breaths leaving his lips. Gritting his jaw, his hips rutted into Dante harsher. It didn't take long for that feeling to burst, and ecstasy flooded his veins. A moan was ripped out of his chest, quivering against the older man, his hips not stopping.
"Fuck! Just like that! Oh fuuck 'm cumming," Dante chanted, twisting his hips against 182's clothed and sensitive bulge, racing his own pleasure before quivering in the younger man's grasp.
After a few seconds of them heavily breathing, riding out their highs, 182 finally spoke. "What was that? It felt so good, I want to feel that again."
"You orgasmed, you've never done it by yourself?" Dante ran a hand through 182's sweaty hair, a blissful smile on his face. "You only do this with someone you love." Technically, the older man wasn't… wrong. He, too, had never done it with another person before. But 182 never knew that; instead, he seemed to grow sullen.
"You seem very educated in this… have you done it with someone before? Someone… you love?" His voice cracked at the end, dreading the idea of Dante doing this with someone who wasn't him.
Dante paused, a little too long, and 182 glared at him in disbelief. "I've never done it with someone before. However, I've… always used my hands." The older man finally admitted, face flushed in embarrassment.
"Can I see?"
The question shocked the older man so much that he gaped in astonishment. "You… want to see how I touch myself?"
182 nodded so fast it looked as if he was going to break his neck.
"Shit… okay," the teacher softly pushed the younger away so he could stand fully on his feet. "Watch me, alright? Don't let those eyes wander now." He could hear the way Dante swallowed nervously, his hands fumbling with his slacks, slowly letting them fall to his ankles, exposing his tight-fitting underwear.
182 sucked in a sharp breath when he saw a very prominent wet spot, almost as if it was caving in. It wasn't until Dante slid the fabric off that he realized… Dante didn't have a cock. He watched the fabric dislodge from between his folds, a glob of slick connecting the two. He's never felt his cock wake up so fucking fast. He fell to his knees to get a better view, embarrassing Dante even more.
There was hair growing, just like how he had hair right above his own cock, but judging by how… little was here… Dante must have shaved it before he got trapped in this hell hole. Taking advantage of the fact that 182 was on his knees in front of him, he rested a leg on his shoulder, exposing his pussy to the open air.
182 couldn't tear his eyes away even if he wanted to. He was mesmerized as he watched Dante's fingers slide into his folds, spreading his lips to give the younger man a better view.
"See this?" Dante's finger tip brushed against his swollen clit, gasping at his own touch. "This is where you were thrusting into. And here…" his fingers slid further back, opening his lips wider to expose his hole, one that was twitching and desperate for something to enter. "This is where your cock enters."
Drool was slipping out of the younger man's mouth, mouth watering at the sight. Dragging himself closer, his hand caressed Dante's thigh, earning him a pretty whine from the older man.
"Instead of showing you how I please myself, why don't I teach you how to please me? So I won't ever have to do it myself, hmm?"
"Fuck…" was the only reply from 182, eyes blown wide as he stared up at the vixen in front of him.
"You can put your mouth on me, it's alright." Dante coaxed him closer with the leg at his shoulder.
182 didn't need to be told twice; he slid closer so his nose would brush against Dante's clit, earning him a gasp. Opening his mouth, he slid out his pretty blue tongue, one that made the older man's own mouth water at the sight. Carefully, he licked the swollen nub in front of him. That careful mentality didn't last long, however, when he tasted his slick.
The groan that came out of the younger man was feral. His hand gripped Dante's hip tightly, one that would definitely leave a bruise the next day. He started to eat that man out like he was starved. Tongue sliding across his folds, suckling on his clit as if it would satiate him, groaning into the taste, vibrating against the older man's sex.
"Oh fuck! Just like that!" Dante cried out, hips rutting into 182's face. His eyes were rolling into the back of his head at the assault on his clit. His hands were grabbing fistfuls of white hair, not pushing away; he was pulling him closer.
The older man had to grit his jaw to hide his groans, worried he would draw unwanted attention. He was making a mess of 182's face, his slick dripping down his chin and onto the concrete. Neither man cared. Each suckle, each flick of his tongue, sent shivers down Dante's spine. His mind was going numb. 182's brain was so empty except for the feeling of Dante's wetness in his mouth, the feeling of his skin against his tongue.
He could feel Dante shudder above him, hands clenching further into his hair and fuck… the prettiest cry emitting from his lips. Dante's hole clenched around nothing as he came, slick dripping from his hole. 182 detached from his clit with a subtle pop. His face was drenched in Dante's slick, and he licked his lips hungrily. He wanted more.
"Fuuuuck, 182 that felt amazing. So much better than my hands. You did so fuckin' good for me," Dante praised, caressing the younger man's face. He leaned into the soft hands, kissing his palm.
He will never let this man wield a weapon; he never wants to see him get hurt. He'd kill if he had to. Anything to protect this angel hovering over him. Anything to hear those sweet, sweet praises, those pretty moans, the way he quivered around him. His own cock throbbed in his prison uniform, pressing so uncomfortably against the fabric. An obvious wet patch at his tip from his orgasm before, and now it's slicked with his own precum.
"I wanna put it inside. Teach… can I do that? You said this is where my cock goes," 182 begged as his hand slid from Dante's hip to his soaked hole. He heard an audible gasp from above him.
"You have to stretch me out first, you can't put it in right away. Watch, slide a finger inside, it's tight," Dante informed, a slur to his voice. He sounded high off fog, if 182 had to voice it into words. They both knew this wasn't because of fog.
Following his instructions, 182 slowly slid a finger inside. His own stomach clenched, and his cock jumped in his pants at the tightness around his finger. The moist walls felt like sin against his skin. Each drag of his finger earned him a whine from the older man above him. Every time he pulled his finger out, he could feel the way the walls quivered and tried to suck it back in. Dante was just as hungry for him as he was for him.
"Put in another," Dante commanded, looking down at him through glossy eyes, tears streaming down his face. "Please. Fuck.. 182, please put in another."
Adding another finger, he watched the way his fingers disappeared inside him. The moan from Dante resonated through 182's brain. He picked up the pace, his fingers fucking that pretty hole, and he latched back onto Dante's clit. He could hear the way the teacher's scream died in his throat, his head thrown back and pressing against the wall of the alleyway.
Dante was rolling his hips, fucking himself on 182's fingers. Even adding a third finger, but it wasn't enough; he wasn't doing it right. It felt like absolute heaven, but he wasn't hitting the right spot. 182 felt a tap at the side of his head, and he instinctively looked up.
"Do this…" Dante held up his hand, spreading his fingers and curling them in such a way that it wasn't hard for 182 to realize what he was trying to say.
Obliging, he curled his fingers and spread them apart. He hit the spot right on, feeling Dante clench down on his fingers, slick pooling out of him. He constantly hit that spot, feeling his hands back into his hair. Each prod into that spot, each suckle on his clit, he was racing Dante right into another orgasm. One that hit him hard, clenching hard against those intruding fingers.
There was no use hiding the moans now; Dante wouldn't shut up. He was crying out for 182, begging him to keep going, praises drifting through the air. The younger man hummed into Dante's clit, attacking his g-spot over and over again. He forced out another orgasm before Dante tapped him again.
Popping off his clit again, he leaned his head against Dante's thigh. He was still hungry for more; his cock was still left abandoned in his pants.
Then, music to his ears… "Put it in. Please, please, oh please. Put your cock in, I need it."
182 slid his fingers out of Dante so fast, the leg at his shoulder falling to the ground, and he stood up so fast he nearly got himself lightheaded. Both of them fumbled with the zipper to the jumper, desperate to get his cock out. Once his cock was out, he hissed at the cold air, his tip red and angry, spilling precum. Grabbing Dante's leg again, he held it up, with the help of the older man, his cock was guided to Dante's entrance.
Instead of Dante being the one to moan loudly at the feeling of being penetrated, it was 182 who had a moan ripped out of his throat at the feeling of Dante clenching down on his cock as he pushed in. He was sucking him in, slick coating his cock. As he pushed in, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his legs went weak, his nervous system sending sirens along his veins.
Once he was fully bottomed out, the two of them stayed still. One was faring better than the other. "Are you alright?" Dante asked, noticing that 182 seemed blissed out. The younger man did the smallest jut against his hips before he felt his whole body erupt in ecstasy again. Oh. Oh fuck, he just came. 182 collapsed against Dante's shoulder, heaving raspy, noisy breaths.
"Oh, teach… it feels so fuckin' good," he slurred. Did that premature orgasm stop him? Not at all, his cock never softened; in fact, it got bigger.
Dante let out a soft laugh, wrapping his arms around 182's neck and pulling him closer, "fuck me, 182. I want you to cum inside me again. Make me cum against your cock." With that, they latched lips again. Tongues fighting each other as 182 started to piston his hips.
Every time he pulled out, Dante's pussy would try to suck him right back in. Every time he slammed back in, he would hit his clit. They moaned into each other's mouths, drool slipping down their chins, mixing with Dante's slick on 182's face. They were going at it like it was the end of the world, and this was the last time they would ever be together.
The sounds of their sex echoed through the alleyway; the lewd noises seemed to turn the two on even more. Dante's hands were clawing at 182, yanking at the orange jumper, clawing into his skin, yanking at his hair in ecstasy. 182 wasn't faring any better; his hand was gripping the thigh like his life depended on it, hips pistoning into Dante.
"'m! Cum~ f'ck" was all the warning Dante could manage to get out through the assault of their lips. His pussy clenched hard on the cock inside it, dragging a moan out of 182's soul as his hips fucked into the tightness.
182 couldn't even warn about his own orgasm, head too full of numbing pleasure. His hips slammed into Dante's, bottoming out once more to release his cum deep inside him. They pulled away from the kiss to collapse into each other's arms.
The pleasure was just so much, 182 was going to get addicted. Even more addicted to it than he was to fog. Right as his cock started to awaken again, he was pushed.
"Fuck! The sun! 182 pull out! Fuck! He's gonna fuckin' kill us!" Dante shouted, planting his feet on the ground, and, on wobbly knees, he bent down to pull up his ruined boxers and slacks.
182 fell to the ground, his cock limp at his thigh, and he watched the older man with love in his eyes, as if he didn't even hear the reason why Dante was frantic.
Dante was quickly back to normal, buttoned up a little, ruffled but tucked back into his pants, tears wiped off his face, and he started to tousle his hair back into place. Dante reached a hand out to the younger man, still weak on the floor from his orgasm. "Okay! Come on, hurry—"
"What the absolute fuck!?" Both men froze in their tracks and stared in fear at the entrance to the alleyway. A certain doctor stood there, absolute disgust carved into his face.
Neither man spoke a word; instead, they stared at Hairen as if they had just been caught sticking their hands into the cookie tin.
"Put that," the doctor pointed in disgust at 182's cock, "away. I can't believe you two fucked…" He ran a hand through his hair, glaring at a wall as if it had committed a hate crime against him.
"Ah… sorry," Dante blurted on instinct, shame filled his voice.
182 was about to stand up and throw a punch at the doctor for making Dante nearly wither away, but Hairen spoke up before he could move.
"First off, I'm not disgusted that you two fucked. But you," he turned his attention to Dante, "with him?" He pointed in disgust at the prisoner on the floor. "You have horrible taste in men."
Oh, that's it, 182 stood up, rearing his hand back and wacked Hairen right in the jaw. In a split second, the two of them were brawling…. 182's cock was still out.
Dante wanted to crawl into a hole and bury himself alive in embarrassment. But he paused, wait… were the two of them fighting over him?