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He wasn't for prying eyes.
An introvert by nature, it didn't bother the little segment that he had nobody his age around him. He didn't care for friends, didn't care to be sociable. Sure, he had the same wants and urges that most kids his age did, but when it came to social yearning, he lacked it.
He was stuck around the other segments most of the time anyways, and while he found solace within the sight of Aranara, he didn't seek out humans. The others were background noise to him, speaking of things he didn't care for, concepts and research topics that didn't interest him.
And yet, with the lack of interest, he found himself naturally inclined towards Pantalone.
He didn't know if it was an inherited adoration from Zandik. He knew the older segments were infatuated with him, as he was their lover. When he was near Pantalone, his gaze would rest to his hands, sometimes shaking with nicotine withdrawal, and the little segment would recall the reason behind every single ring.
They were gifts, the physical embodiment of their devotion.
Pantalone always noticed. It was hard not to. The boy was always in his own little world, though bothered by the one that he was forced to inhabit.
Pantalone was the only person the little segment had exposure to. The harbinger found himself enjoying that thought quite often. The dichotomy of the little segment's dismissal of his older selves versus Pantalone was intoxicating at times.
His thoughts bordered on obsessive when he was inebriated, whether it be from alcohol or drugs. The latter, especially, made the mortal's mind grow dark if the little segment was nearby. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, a shameful attraction that he knew he had to keep to himself.
"Expanded pupils."
He felt the cold rush of the medication go through his veins. The little segment flashed a light within his eyes, sitting on the table beside Pantalone as he was too short to stand on the ground and do his checks.
The little segment didn't want to go through with the testing that Fourty-Five had planned. Unfortunately, the funds were already used, the drug created, and Fourty-Five was assigned to Fontaine to assist Sandrone with a task. Every other segment was busy, and so, the duty laid with him.
Pantalone felt a rush crawl through his body. The IV bag that contained the drug dripped out the last few drops, before the little segment hopped down, grabbing a piece of gauze and applying it to Pantalone's inner elbow before removing the IV. Pantalone didn't speak, his eyes wide and focused down on the eight year old segment as his little hands held his arm still.
Eight pulled the gauze away, checking for blood, before applying a fresh piece and taping it in place. "I don't understand why you would be so willing to test out such a strong stimulant." Eight commented, picking up a clipboard and a pen, watching the Fontainian-crafted monitor display Pantalone's vitals. "The composition is more akin to a party drug than something you should be taking."
"It's exhilarating."
Eight closed his eyes, exhaling softly. "That's what it's meant to feel like, yes."
Pantalone watched him with a surgical precision. The drug in his system was acting exactly as it was meant to at the dosage he was given. In a smaller dosage, it would simply assist in focus.
In the dosage provided, it made him feel everything tenfold.
"Your heart rate is elevated, though within a range that is safe." Eight's voice cut through the focused fog that overtook Pantalone's mind. "If you want to lay back, you can. I'll be monitoring your vitals for the next few hours."
Pantalone stared at him.
He was hard.
He could see Eight's features soften as their eyes met. Pantalone's lips parted, watching as Eight immediately glanced at the monitor. He didn't even realize the sound he was hearing was the monitor's vocalization increasing as his heart rate increased.
Eight spoke, but Pantalone couldn't hear it past the thumping of blood in his ears. Then, he saw the boy's gaze lower. Pantalone reached out, resting his right hand onto Eight's head. He drew the boy close, watching Eight's hands tremble while holding his clipboard and pen.
He collected both items with his other hand, setting them aside. Eight's ruby eyes stared at him with a faux sense of composure. Pantalone knew the boy was scared. He knew that his touch and visible arousal were what made Eight tremble. He could feel his heat throb within his trousers at the sight.
Wide eyed, scared, and attempting to hide the fear. It was delicious. He was used to seeing his lover's cocky smile, the heat in his eyes that reflected his own. Dottore, for the most part, wasn't submissive. He wasn't one to let his guard down, and wasn't one to let Pantalone use him unless he was broken down entirely, so the sight of the young Zandik was so, so refreshing.
"Good boy." Pantalone exhaled, cupping Eight's jaw. His thumbs rubbed against his chubby cheeks. "Such a good boy."
Detaching a hand from his young lover, Pantalone undid the belt to his pants and unzipped them. With a sloppy, stimulant-drunk movement, he fished his cock out, his smile never fading as he watched Eight's expression. Pantalone's cock drooled precum, the viscous excretion pooling down to the floor. To his drug adled mind, it felt like a lot, but in reality, it wasn't much more than a few drops.
His hands returned to cupping Eight's jaw. He drew the boy closer, his breathing growing unstable as he forced the young boy to his manhood. His cock throbbed as it rested against Eight's cheek, his precum drooling onto it. "Kiss it, Zandik."
Eight had no choice but follow the man's command. He pressed a chaste kiss to the side of the man's shaft, eyes wearily looking up at him. He continued to kiss it, before Pantalone adjusted his hold on him. The older male brought his hand through his light blue locs.
A hiss then came from Eight's throat as Pantalone forced his head back. Pantalone's other hand grabbed the base of his own cock, moving it so that the head rubbed against Eight's lips. "Open your mouth, Zandik."
Eight hesitantly opened his lips. The harbinger holding him then slammed his head down, the young boy grabbing onto Pantalone's legs as the entirety of his length was slammed into his tiny throat. Pantalone groaned with pleasure, hanging his head back.
The pure, constricting walls of the little boy's throat were enough to make the man orgasm immediately. Eight felt the manhood in his throat pulse and throb- Pantalone's balls drawing up towards his shaft as he dumped his load straight into Eight's gut.
"Fuck, you're so tight."
Eight gripped his thighs harder while Pantalone rode his orgasm. Once the throbbing ceased, Pantalone pulled the young boy off his cock, Eight sputtering and groaning.
The man looked down at him, adoration filling his features as Eight glared at him, just the same as the other segments. Pantalone let go of him, stuffing his softening cock back into his pants. "You're so cute when you pout, Zandik."
"You're a disgusting pedophile for doing this." Eight coughed, rubbing his mouth, as if he was trying to cleanse the orifice of the crime that was committed.
"What a big word for such a cute boy." Pantalone met his eyes with a gentleness that contrasted his actions. "I love you."
Eight's face grew a bright red, before he grabbed his clipboard and pen. "Ugh." He spat out his grumble, immediately writing down within Pantalone's medical file.