Chapter Text
John's sneeze bounced off the empty alley wall and out into the cold evening to roam the quiet town, leaving its creator behind to fade into the air like the chill faded into his bones from standing too long in the same spot. He's been trying to warm himself by rubbing his hands together and walking in circles, but his ratty coat did little to wade off the temperature of the night.
He promised himself once more that just ten more minutes of waiting, and he'll be off back to the pub where he left Arthur again. The same promise that he has been repeating to himself for the last two hours. Or was it three?
For all he knows, Arthur may have knocked himself out already, if not for someone else helping him with that.
His brother made good on his promise of needing a drink tonight, especially after John walked downstairs with a pale complexion, begging Polly to tell him Tommy was joking about the arranged marriage. It turns out, no, he wasn't. And that gave plenty of reason for Arthur to drag John out to celebrate his soon imprisonment to some broad that he has never met before in his life.
He couldn't object to it anyhow; at least this way, he could get away from Luca and the unstopping banging across the wall, like a threat against him personally. Luca was taunting him by making Tommy moan and whine all day like an alley cat in heat while all John could do was stare at the note Angel left him solemnly, trying to block out the noises but unwilling to get up from his bed. He sulked as he caressed his fingertips over the rose's petals, plucking at them in irritation and instantly mourning the ones he ripped out. He barely noticed the day turning into the evening until Arthur knocked on his door, saying that it was time to go out.
He thought the familiar environment of the Garrison and the lack of reminders of what happened last night would be able to clear his head for at least a few hours. But John had to leave the bar barely ten minutes in after Arthur asked for the millionth time that day, "which girl fucked John so well last night."
He made Arthur let him go by telling him if she fucks him this good tonight too, he'll get a name. Arthur laughed jovially and sent him to go on his merry way to his lover, God knows he may not get another chance, and John basically sprinted out and over to Angel's restaurant with his first glass barely touched.
He arrived just around closing time, the same as yesterday, but Angel wasn't in. He didn't go inside but looked through all the windows, nose basically pressed against the glass, and waited for the older man to turn up with his signature smile but nothing. John brought himself to ask Tony about where Angel might be as the man walked out, but all Tony could tell him was that Angel left early today but should be back any minute. He lives above after all, and he never spends work nights away, with having to open up the place early and all that. So John decided to wait in the alley for him to show up.
The same alley where he beat Angel up and started this whole madness.
He picked at his nails and blushed as he remembered back to how Angel looked under him on the ground, how patient and attractive he was, how John could only dream about what his cock might feel inside. How he was so much better than what John could ever imagine.
God, one dick turned him into a pansy rivaling Tommy. But no, he had to stop thinking with his father's hateful words; Angel explained it so well. He was so smart, so good, so-, fuck , focus, John. Fucking hell. Becoming a total sap like this was embarrassing as fuck.
He's been eyeing the street, thinking it could be any second now, but Angel was nowhere, the restaurant was long closed, everybody went home, and no light came from his bedroom window either. It was probably past midnight. John blew on his fingers for warmth and sniffled, thinking ten more minutes.
He didn't know what he even tried to achieve, waiting around like this by the restaurant. He had no idea what to say to Angel if he finally turns up. He tried to come up with something, pick a mood, a line, a fucking reason, but truth be told, John just wanted to see him again, regardless of context. Just for one last time. He never hated the word "last" more.
He couldn't stay still at home, his brain incurably plagued with the memories of Angel, Luca's threats, the weddings, and he didn't know what to do. He was confused, scared, hurt, and so fucking hopeless.
Not so long ago, he couldn't have even imagined not disliking Angel or Tommy's lifestyle, and now he was fucking heartbroken over that Italian honey bear that fucked him in the ass once. Not to mention that it was the best sex he ever had, and sort of fell for Angel immediately after recalling the lasagna story. What kind of person remembers shit like that so fondly?
To John's defense, it was hard not to fall for the guy; the fucker was perfect and knew just what to say to get your heart beating a mile a second. He was too kind and intelligent, and sweet and great in bed, and so fucking patient and handsome and fuck, fuck . John knew he shouldn't have let him lead him to his bed; now here he was: waiting around in the freezing weather for this man to show up that doesn't even want him. Well, John doesn't think Angel wants him, but if the last week told him anything, it was "miracles do exist."
But Angel was getting married, and now John too, and it all seemed so disturbing and wrong and mean.
John had no choice; he couldn't just deny Tommy's command, he was the boss, after all, but Angel was getting married out of love. He fucking loved Lizzie, and she loved him back. And they deserved to get married, they were both flawless people, and John was nothing.
Angel was doing him a favor, letting him experiment, being overly generous as always. The night they shared wouldn't mean anything to him. But God, John almost pulled a muscle how hard he hoped that it would. Angel wouldn't have said all those things if he felt nothing for John, no?
It would be crazy to think that Angel loved him back, but fuck, put a dunce cap on him and shove him in the looney bin because despite how insane it sounded, John wanted it to be true more than anything. If Tommy heard his thoughts, he'd roll his eyes from how immaturely easily John falls in love.
But he has never felt this way before for anyone. He never wanted anyone or anything more. All his previous crushes seemed so juvenile and insignificant compared to this. Lizzie was the first breeze of spring, while Angel was the thickest summer heat enveloping his mind; the warmth he felt pool in his heart was almost unbearable. This thing he feels is the type of love that he would make faces at when Tommy read him a fairytale to bed; the kind that makes butterflies flutter in his belly while a grand piano falls onto his chest, and his brain turns to mush. It was annoying as fuck, but it felt so good.
He knew he should let Angel go and forget this ever happened, move on while it's not too late; that would be the logical thing to do, but an illogical part of him kept asking, why can't he fucking keep this relationship with him? Why can't he be the one chosen, for fuck's sake? Why can't he love and be loved?
Tommy is a known queer, just as Ada, that shouldn't be an issue to his family, and it's not like Luca or Tommy didn't break more than a couple of hearts by making their relationship official. Freddie still chased Tommy around, and Luca still had boys and girls around town fainting after him.
If Tommy can have his man, why can't John get one too? Frankly, he earned this; if Tommy can keep his creepy, sadistic piece of shit boyfriend, then John should be able to be with Angel with all the humiliating shit he has to go through for him. Sneaking around, getting caught and threatened by his psychotic but hot brother was worth Angel's warm touch pulling him close and his comforting rumbling voice telling John -
"What a sweet little boy you are, waiting for Daddy."
If the air was chilly before, it froze the blood in John's veins now, with Luca's condescending voice cutting through the eery silence. He didn't even hear his footsteps or see his shadow creeping up behind him so close, and it was a terrifying surprise to turn around and see the tall fucker leaning against the opposite wall as if he has been there the whole time. John knows for a fact that he couldn't have been there five minutes prior; he was pacing in circles then, but Luca might have been observing him from afar, waiting for him to be completely alone and vulnerable.
John could only stare like a deer in headlights once more, having been caught off guard by that creep for the third time that day, his mind blank except for the danger alarms firing off in his head in panic.
Was he going to threaten him again or actually hurt him? He didn't hit Angel, so he wouldn't, right? And where the fuck was Angel?
"Imagine Tommy's concern when Arthur stumbled home, drunk out of his mind and laughing about how you ran off to your forbidden lover." Luca scratched at his jawline, looking out to the street to check if it was still empty while recalling the event like an entertaining movie. "He even tried to reason with Tommy, telling him that you said it was the best fuck of your life and that you deserve to have fun until the wedding. You have quite a supportive, if not stupid, older brother; I'll give you that. However, it would cause my darling Thomas further headache if you tried to sabotage his plans, you see, so as a good partner, I volunteered to bring you home. I'm such a caring and considerate brother-in-law after all."
"I can go home by myself," John scoffed, trying to act unbothered and mask how scared he was of the other man, "and I wouldn't sabotage Tommy's fucking plan."
Luca looked back into his eyes with the coldest gaze, "But you would Angel's?"
John opened his mouth to deny, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He bit his tongue before he could shamefully admit that he would, staring back at Luca and hoping that the fucker had a morsel of compassion in him.
"So you would. Poor Lizzie," Luca tilted his head back, resting it against the wall to further look down on John, "Not that I could care less about her, but even with her dullness, she seemed to make Angel perfectly happy and content. That is until you decided to play the virgin slut to try to steal him away. If you can't have one, then you pounce on the other, hm? Quite a selfish little brat you are, don't you think, John?"
He didn't want to hurt Lizzie. He didn't. She has never done him any harm. John shook his head silently, paling and holding back the shameful tears bubbling up against his will. God, he felt like such a homewrecking whore. But he wanted Angel more than he wanted to be a good person.
"I do wonder if you could, though, steal him away. Angel was never picky. You lack Tommy's beauty, intelligence, and charm, but you're cute enough to be of use, and if I heard correctly, you're quite a joy to spread on the bed. Are you here to confirm that with Angel? Do you want his written feedback if you were a satisfying toy and ask how much more you need to perform until he leaves his beloved bride? Do you honestly believe he would for you?"
"Fuck off," John blurted out before he could stop himself and instantly regretted it.
That bastard Luca's eyes glinted in the lamplight dangerously as he licked his teeth and smiled smugly, seeing the fear in John's eyes, and kicked himself off the wall. He waltzed closer threateningly slowly, like a cat toying with the mouse, his gaze almost feeling like a physical touch all over John's body.
John hated that even with how much he despised and dreaded the older man, he was still fucking good-looking. His collar undone, his hair mussed, looking like he just rolled out of Tommy's bed and surely going back soon enough. If not into John's. The thought made him shiver. He didn't want to decipher in what way. He already had a tough time accepting he was attracted to men, nevermind the types of them.
"You know, John, you remind me of a stray puppy," Luca drawled amusedly, looming over him, "Unwanted and desperately searching for an owner." He spun his toothpick around with his tongue, his eyes roaming over John's frame like he was on display at the butcher shop. "And whoever lets you eat from their palm and gives you a scratch behind your ears you stuck to."
John swallowed, pursing his lips in humiliation and looking anywhere but at the older man as he came closer and closer until he was backing him up against the wall. He almost jumped at the feeling of the cold bricks against his back, but then Luca grabbed him by the chin and gave him a better reason to do so.
He angled his face up, baring John's throat to the cold, "And only a few firm kicks could get you off their heel," Luca sneered, his eyes a cruel green as he forced John to meet them, "and Angel may not, but I sure would be up to the task to give those kicks."
John's eyes prickled with tears of shame that he blamed the cold for, and he tried to force down his whimper, threatening to erupt as fear and dread twisted his guts. If Luca decides to hurt him here, there will be no one to help him; no one is walking the street at this hour. Angel wasn't here. It would be wiser to just give in and play along with whatever the older man has planned for him to avoid getting hurt too badly. Luca's grin spread wider, seemingly aware of that too, his tone growing even more mocking as his hand caressed gently at John's cheek.
"But the puppy only wants to be a good little pet, doesn't he? So he comes back even after one or two kicks, waiting in the cold for his owner to let him in his home and feed and pamper him again. Craving to belong to someone, the pitiful little cur."
The condescending remarks made it much more difficult to ignore his pride and try to make the best of the situation at hand. As if Luca wanted him to act out so he could punish him for it. The calculating bastard.
Where was Angel?
John bit down on his bottom lip, sniffling and trying to look away, clawing at the wall behind himself as Luca's warm breath ghosted over his jawline. He couldn't help the pathetic little noise that left him as the larger man started flicking open the buttons at his collar with playful ease until he reached his coat. He felt fucking trapped, and he knew he wouldn't get out of this encounter like with the previous two. There was no one nearby to protect him now.
Where the fuck was Angel?
"It doesn't even matter who puts a collar on you, no? You just want someone to tug on your leash and give you a bone and call you a good boy; you're a simple little creature." Luca chuckled, his big hand loosely wrapping around the base of John's neck, his eyes locking in on Angel's bitemark that he pressed his nails into, making John swallow again as his fingers slid under John's opened shirt and rubbed at the scar; he seemed awfully intrigued by it. "Not like there's anything wrong with that; sometimes, the simplicity of a dumb dog can be quite a pleasant break from everyday life."
"I'm not a fucking dog," John mumbled, shooting a weak hateful glare up at the taller man while fighting down his shivers as Luca unbuttoned his coat. John wanted to battle back against it, punch Luca in his big dumb nose, but his hands felt chained to the wall. He still knew that if he tried to fight Luca, he wouldn't be the one to come out of that as the victor. He tried to calm his mind, chanting inside that if he plays along, everything will be alright.
Luca raised a belittling brow as he pushed John's coat off his frame, "The only difference I could think of right now between you and a dog is that I wouldn't fuck one, sweetheart."
Why does this motherfucker-
"You wouldn't fuck me either," John hissed and instantly missed the meager warmth the coat provided but didn't reach for it. "You have Tommy."
Luca shrugged, taking John's cap and throwing it to the side as if it were nothing but a piece of trash, "Every king needs a disposable concubine next to their queen; it makes them appreciate their wife even more and helps relieve boredom." He ruffled John's hair out of style, making it fall into his face boyishly, and grinned at his handiwork, "Angel seemed to catch up on that as well."
Luca seemed determined to rub more and more salt into his wound, hitting all the spots that made John want to crumble and fall apart.
He folded up the coat into a flat square and threw it between them on the ground, landing with a dull thud, "And I'm interested to see how you compare. You obviously won't ever reach Tommy's level, but I like to support new talents; I'm generous like that." Luca nudged the hair in John's eyes away with a finger to make eye contact, the back of the digit caressing over his face together with his gaze, searching for something that John couldn't decipher, "Now, be a good boy and get on your knees; daddy will give you a bone."
Fucking. Arrogant. Bastard.
John spared a quick glance down to where Luca wanted him and ran his tongue over his teeth inside his mouth. A last count while he still had all of them in place. Then he looked back up at the taller man and shook his head in defiance, spitting, "Go fuck yourself, daddy ."
Luca's smile only grew as he tilted his head to the side and observed John's disobedience with great amusement, "There we have another difference: dogs learn quicker."
He may have had only another moment of safety, and he used that to draw in a breath that came out as a pained yelp as Luca landed a bare-knuckle punch against his brow. The hit was strong enough to send John flying back against the wall and off, clutching at his left eye socket and almost sinking to the ground before Luca caught him by the hair, holding him still as John whined.
Fuck, that hurt much more than when hit with boxing gloves.
Luca spitted his toothpick to the side and shook his head at the miserable sight John made, "You keep pushing your luck, little puppy. You think that just because I love Thomas with all my heart, I wouldn't hurt or destroy you in a second. Do you think Tommy would get angry? Break up with me if I roughed you up a little? Do you honestly believe you hold that much significance to him? To anyone, really? Let's face it, sweetheart. You're not even his second favorite brother, let alone the sharpest tool in the shed."
John tried to blink through his tears, testing his hurt eye, "You're a fucking sick bastard," he sniffled, trying to claw away Luca's wrist holding him in place, "and I will never let you fuck me."
Luca chuckled, "Aw, you still think I'll be needing your permission for that? How cute."
John gasped for air at the blow into his stomach, making him double over and almost tumble to his knees, Luca encouraging the movement with the hand in his hair, but John held himself up by clutching at the taller man's belt. The fucker's trousers were tenting; he was getting off on this. John spitted at his shoe and glared up, wheezing. "I'll bite your fucking dick off if you try to put it in my mouth."
Luca amusedly tilted his head to the side, pulling him closer, his belt buckle digging painfully into John's cheek as he forced his face against his bulge. He pushed his other hand's thumb past his lips, but John was still breathing through his mouth, so all he could do was look up and whimper as the digit traced at the bottom row of his teeth threateningly.
"Not if I tear your pretty little ivories out one by one, you won't." He arched a brow, playing with the thought before pulling his finger out and patting his cheek, then tugging John upright again, "Maybe next time, though. Wouldn't want to ugly you further just yet."
He turned John around and smashed his cheekbone straight into the brick wall with a speed and force that made him dizzy. Now his face will be thoroughly bruised.
Luca kept John pressed against the wall with a firm hand against his nape, while the other he used to work open John's trouser buttons as he sighed casually, "And I was nice enough to give a pillow under your knees too, you ungrateful little brat. But no, you would rather not be able to sit for a week instead of appreciating my chivalry."
John gasped as his trousers and underpants were wrenched off to the middle of his thighs, the cold air hitting his cheeks which Luca appreciatively and roughly kneaded.
"For someone so hellbent on being straight until now, you have quite an ass made to be fucked often and well. A natural cocksleeve like Tommy, aren't you?" when John tried to shy away with a whimper, Luca grabbed him by his hipbone, making him arch his back and push his ass out more and into his groin. The belt buckle was a familiar unpleasant feeling. Luca draped himself over his back to chuckle into his ear, "Let's pop your prison cherry and see if you still give out those pretty sounds if we skip the prep and there's only your blood to ease the way. Would you like that, John?"
"No, please, don't," John whined, the thought of getting fucked without preparation making his skin crawl; it was a tight fit even with plenty of help. He wasn't ready for less than that. Luca would tear him to shreds.
He wanted to plead again that he will be good and tried to trash against the hold fruitlessly, but then all of a sudden, there were rushing footsteps on cobblestones, and Luca's body heat disappeared from his back as someone yanked him off of John forcefully. He gathered his trousers quickly and turned in time to see Luca being thrown against the opposite wall, his broad back landing with a dull thud and a groan before the tall man that saved him faced John, and the streetlight illuminated his face. John almost dropped his pants again.
"Are you alright?" Angel's eyes were wide with concern, sweat glistening on his brow, his breathing labored; he probably ran over the moment he saw what was happening. His gaze roamed over John's state, lingering on the bruises on his face and the undone clothes, and sucked in a sharp breath, "I'm so sorry, John."
Before John could even think of forming a reply, still in shock by his sudden appearance, the older Changretta brother broke the blooming moment.
"Don't be; nothing happened," Luca groaned, making them turn back towards him as he peeled himself off the wall with a hand rubbing at the back of his head. "We were just messing around; you know how it is," he snickered, eyeing John with a cruel smile as he dusted himself off, "You give boys like this their first fuck, and then he's immediately batting his eyelashes at the closest man and pulling on his pants to get the next taste. He tried to seduce me at their home when I was visiting Tommy; I was only complying with his needs. Insatiable little tart our sweet John is."
How dare this lying motherfucker-
John was trembling from anger and fear and shook his head frantically as he grabbed at Angel's coat sleeve, making him look back to him to explain himself, "I didn't, please, I swear, I wasn't, I wouldn't-"
Angel's eyes were full of remorse as he caressed John's face softly and pulled him calmingly close, hushing and reassuring him gently with a hand rubbing circles into his waist, letting John hide against his larger frame.
"I know, I know, John. I know you didn't; I'm sorry, baby boy," he kissed his forehead, mindful of his injuries, "I heard what he said, don't worry. I know what's going on, and I will not let him hurt you again."
John let out a relieved sigh and burrowed close to his broad chest, sniffling, clutching at his sides, seeking his warmth and safety. Angel understood everything and took his word over his brother's. His chest felt like it has been overfilled with this calming warmth that he felt during their lovemaking.
Angel was here.
Angel believed him.
Angel was going to keep him safe.
"Come on, that was just a joke," Luca stepped closer, laughing humorlessly, his nonchalant act cracking around the edges as John peeked up to see Angel glare venomously at his brother. He has never seen Angel angry before. "You know I only wanted to teach him a lesson to pay back for what the little cur has done to you."
"Don't you dare try to excuse your actions with brotherly intentions," Angel fucking growled, and the rumbling of his chest went straight to the butterflies in John's belly; Angel was territorial. Over John. The thrill of it dazed his vision as he watched the older men argue. "You should be ashamed of your behavior, Luca. Our mother didn't raise you like this."
"Bringing mama into this, how original," Luca rolled his eyes, "You're acting like you forgot all your previous training like you didn't grow up learning from the same men I did; the only difference is that they let you out." Luca pointed at his chest, "You know, compared to those guys, I was a fucking gentleman to this little brat. You know what they'd do to someone that hurt one of their own."
Angel clutched John close with one arm and motioned at Luca furiously with the other, "That is business, and this is personal and none of your concern!"
" None of my concern ?!" Luca shouted, talking with his hands wildly as well, "You're my fucking brother; you're nothing but my concern!"
"You weren't doing this for me!" Angel matched his tone, "You were hurting this poor boy for your own sick satisfaction, nothing else; you just needed an empty excuse for it! And I will not give that to you!" Angel paused, seeing Luca's irritation spike and leaving him speechless with his retaliation, then continued with a lower voice, "John hasn't done anything wrong to me that I haven't already forgiven. There's no place here for a vendetta."
"Because you fucked him? Eh? Is that it?" Luca sneered, motioning at where John was clutching at Angel like a lifeline, "The kid beats you up then opens his legs and lets you dip your cock into him, and all is forgiven and forgotten? That should be the least amount he needs to pay not to get murdered by you, and he still hasn't paid what's due not to get murdered by me yet. And God knows I charge much more."
"There is nothing that John would need to pay you to keep his life," Angel eased John's trembling with his warm hand cradling the back of his head and keeping him pressed close. "And the night we shared wasn't anything like that. And I've already told you a hundred times; he didn't beat me up, I was in control of the situation."
"Letting the little shit do whatever he wants without consequences because you find him fuckable isn't " in control ," it's weak and pathetic, and you put our family's name in the dirt with it," Luca grabbed for John, trying to tear him out of Angel's hold. "If you can't punish him for it, then as your brother, I have to! Hand him over!"
Angel released John, but not to comply with Luca's demand, gently pushing him as far back as possible for his safety, before quickly taking Luca by the collar and forcing him to back off from the smaller man. Both Changretta brothers were very tall and well built, but Angel had a clear mass advantage that he could use to overpower Luca with ease. But Angel was far too modest to do anything other than keep his brother back from reaching John.
"You will not touch a hair on his head," Angel raised his voice, then immediately lowered it, trying to calm the situation, uncomfortable with his own anger slipping, "I know it's hard, but you cannot let the business darken your soul like this, brother. Beating and raping innocent boys for fun is what those soulless henchmen do that father sends you out to whack. You are better than this, Luca; I know you are."
Luca rolled his eyes, wrenching himself out his hold, "Ah, don't give me that holier than thou martyr on the cross speech, please, Angelino, or I'll puke. You really decided to brainwash yourself and erase all that you've learned to wipe your slate clean, but it will never go away. You know you're lying to yourself," he gave a bored snort, "You know the business is built upon those " soulless henchmen ," and father doesn't bat an eye if not encourage them to relieve their frustrations however they see fit. And he's right. You only want me to be better than this, but you know I'm not." He spared a glance over Angel's shoulder where John was cowering against the wall, then looked back with a raised brow and a wicked grin slowly reemerging, "And neither are you."
Angel visibly stilled, his back ramrod straight in front of John, and he couldn't see his expression from this angle, but when Angel spoke again, his voice had a concerned edge to it. Like a security guard trying to reason with a robber to put the gun down.
"Luca, you don't want to go there. So do not make me go there."
"Oh, we are already there, your holiness, " Luca chuckled, prowling around Angel to try to get a look in at John, "Maybe now you'd need a bit of a nudge for it, but ten, twelve years ago you wouldn't have been playing the knight in shining armor in this situation. Oh, no, you would have not. I liked the fun Angel much more, the one that didn't make it his aim to fit his name so perfectly." He licked his teeth and came closer, addressing John over Angel's shoulder, "You know what my dear brother would have done, not that long ago, without hesitation if he saw me trying to get naughty with you, John?"
"Luca, do not," Angel warned with a large hand against Luca's chest, pushing him away from John and blocking his view, "I swear, if you-"
"He would have fucking held you still, patiently waiting for his turn to force himself in you," Luca sneered, trying to bat Angel's hands away that kept pushing him backwards, "That's right. My sweet angelic little brother would have put his hand over your mouth and a knife to your throat and would have told you to shut up, you little bitch, and would have taken his fill from your pretty body-"
"Stop it, Luca, that's enough," Angel hissed, his movements becoming more forceful and frantic, trying to quiet down his brother. John watched with wide eyes; his breathing stopped as he leaned as far back from them as he could, trembling against the wall while he processed the words.
Luca was lying.
Angel would never .
He wouldn't.
He was the opposite of all that.
Luca was just trying to scare John.
He must have.
"He loves to play the gentleman, but my dear Angelino is just as twisted as I am, sweetheart; you just have to dig a little deeper to get there." Luca tilted his head, his grin spreading like wildfire as his gaze went back to Angel. "And if you think I'm lying, then just ask yourself, which prince charming on his best behavior is cheating on his beloved bride to fuck a virgin gypsy whore?"
John jumped in shock from how suddenly Angel grabbed Luca by the lapels of his coat and slammed him flat against the wall with painful force and roared, "I said ENOUGH!"
Luca only squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to show signs of pain but otherwise laughed in satisfaction at getting Angel angry, "Hitting too close to home? Is little Angelino upset that despite all his hard work, he still can't be a hundred percent pure? That you're just as bad as the rest of us? Do you hate to be reminded that you betrayed that sweet girl? That you disappoint mama and yourself with how you can't control your filthy urges?"
"You have no idea what you're talking about," Angel seethed, forcing himself to let go of Luca and step back, shaking his head and trying to calm himself down. "You don't have half the facts, and you're just shooting in the dark, seeing what sticks. It may work with others, but not me, Luca; I know you. I know what games you're playing."
Luca's mouth twitched in irritation as Angel turned away from him to walk back to John, his grin dissolving with every step his brother took until he hurried after him and scoffed, "Don't tell me you're just afraid of scaring your little boytoy off? Was that virgin gypsy hole so good that you want to keep the stupid little slut?"
It took a while for John to comprehend what happened the very second Luca finished his sentence. It just made no sense that Angel would turn around from the insults and land a lightning-fast punch to Luca's nose with a wet crunch and a strength that sent his brother flying back against the wall and tumbling to the ground.
Luca clutched at his nose bridge with a groan, the blood oozing from it quickly painting his white shirt with red. Angel towered over Luca, his knuckles dripping with his blood as he took him by the collar again, now soaked crimson, bringing him up halfway as he leaned down to make him listen.
"I said enough, Luca." Angel's rumbling voice was pure danger as he shook him a little, not trying to hurt his brother further, but not showing remorse for it either, "You will not touch him like that again, you will not talk to him like that again, and you will not call him those things again. Ever."
Luca's teeth were tinted with his blood as he lifted his hand away from his busted nose, not broken but injured enough, and gave a knowing smirk, observing Angel's face, his voice playful and light again, "So it was. Good to know. Would you be up to share sometime?" He coyly licked at the blood dripping into his mouth, "Let me get a taste of your pretty little thing too, hm?"
Angel shook his head, releasing Luca as he straightened back up, "Go back to Tommy before I start remembering what I've " learned ," Luca. We will talk in the morning. I don't want to see you until then."
Luca kept talking as if they were only having a friendly chat, ignoring the blood leaking down his chin and further staining his clothing, "I'd be up to share mine, come on, be a good brother. Mama always said sharing is caring."
Angel ignored him as he walked back to John, picking his coat up from the floor on the way and dusted it off to wrap around his shivering frame gently. John only stared up at him with wide eyes, his shaking only increasing with those big hands on him again, and realizing it might not just be from the cold.
He remembered how Luca was undefeated in the boxing ring, the hits bouncing off his frame without seemingly any effect, and Angel just knocked him clean off his feet with a single punch.
There might have been some truth to what Luca has said.
"Come on, let's get you warmed up," Angel mumbled to John, pressing a small kiss to his forehead before putting a protective arm around his shoulders and moving him towards the entrance of the restaurant. John could only hold on to him and hug him close, trying to stop the shakes and ignore the blood on Angel's knuckles or Luca calling after them.
"If you change your mind and decide to be a good brother, you know where to find me, Angelino. Have a nice evening. Enjoy your good boy while you still can."
Angel huffed out a humorless breath as he opened the door and locked it after them, walking through the restaurant with a defeated gait like he was the one who got his nose busted or just came back from a lost war, leading John towards the kitchen without looking back to see if Luca left. John did glance back, watching the street with concern, but Luca wasn't there, so Angel's command must have had the desired effect, and he fucked off for now. Thank fuck .
John could finally breathe a bit more easily with the imminent threat gone and pulled his clothes tighter around himself while following the older man walking around the tables. He knew he should probably button up his collar, but his fingers were still shaking too much, and he didn't want to embarrass himself with his fumbling.
"I'm sorry for all of that. We have an emergency kit here somewhere; I'll clean your wounds if you don't mind," Angel talked without looking at John, avoiding his gaze as he moved away from him and took off his coat, but John was having none of it.
He grabbed Angel by his bicep, making him turn back around, halting his steps towards the kitchen. Angel just complied without any resistance, all the fight draining out of him and taking in John's state once more with barely hidden pity and distaste. John hated how deflated he looked when he just intimidated Luca into leaving them alone. His brother, not to mention the most intimidating fucker in the world.
"Where the fuck were you?" John meant to sound demanding and angry, but his voice was only painfully weak and needy, cracking on the last word. He probably looked like a fussy toddler to the older man, making a scene like that, but he couldn't give a fuck about that right now. He still stood his ground, trying to act like a raging gangster, or something remotely close to it, even on shaky legs as tears bubbled up, the weight of the situation crashing onto him. Luca came way too close to hurting him further. "Where in the fuck were you?!"
"John," Angel closed his eyes, sighing as he rubbed a hand over his face and combed back his hair with his fingers, taking his sweet time to answer. "I'm sorry. I am. I thought-," he paused, rethinking his words before he opened his eyes again, but only looked at the floor as he spoke quietly, "I didn't know you would come back, John. And I didn't think my brother would-,"
"That's not what I fucking ASKED," John roared and threw one of the nearest tables over, the chairs and frame clattering disturbingly loudly on the floor, his coat falling from his shoulders as well. Better to act angry than to fucking focus on how he began crying like a little girl, " Where. The. Fuck. Were. You?! "
Angel watched without a flinch, seemingly expecting John's outburst and taking a minute to let him calm himself a bit before carefully answering, his tone annoyingly reserved, "I went to have dinner with Lizzie's family. Then I took her to the cinema. Then I took her home. Then I came back here after she fell asleep."
"Did you fuck her?" the question left his lips before John could even think about it. It just burst out of his skull, more confrontationally and desperately than he had any right to be. What business does John have with whether Angel fucks his fiancée or not? It's not like he could ask him not to. But it still hurt like a bitch for some reason.
Angel blinked slowly, more unsurprised than John by the question, before nodding calmly, "Yes, I did. Do you want me to apologize to you for it?"
"Fuck off," John seethed, his voice weak, the tears prickling annoyingly at his eyes, and he cursed every single fucking drop that rolled down his cheek, but he couldn't hold them back as he stuttered, "Fuck right the fuck off, you mocking fucking bastard."
"It's not an unreasonable question, John," Angel shook his head, speaking softly like a patient nanny, "You deserve an apology. But I can't apologize for that, and you know why but I am sorry. I'm sorry, John," Angel took him gently by the shoulders, and John started weakly hitting at his chest to push him away, babbling more insults while Angel's words were calm and soothing as he handled John with ease, "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I'm sorry that this happened to you. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I was away when you needed me. I'm sorry my brother hurt you. I'm sorry for all that. I'm sorry."
John clutched at his shirt, the intensity of his conflicting emotions clouding his mind, groaning while breathing in that scent that he has been craving all day, trying to keep from hyperventilating and focus on the raining apologies. He hated how he could feel his anger slip away slowly just from Angel's touch, his fists balling in his shirt to keep him close rather than push him back as seconds before.
"Don't-, don't do this to me again," John hiccuped, like a messy child having a hissy fit, "Don't ever leave me alone like that again. I've been here for fucking hours, and you weren't-," his voice broke, a sob bubbling up that he tried to smother against Angel's collar, "You weren't fucking here. I need you to be fucking here." I need you.
Angel sighed, kissing the top of his head, "I'm sorry, John, but I can't promise you that. You know I can't. But I swear I will talk to Luca-,"
"To hell with Luca," John raised his voice again, slamming his fist against Angel's chest that probably felt less than a mosquito bite to this heavy motherfucker. "I don't fucking care about Luca's fucking threats and shit; I need you to be always fucking here! Here," he licked at his lips, pausing for a shuddering breath, and looked back up shyly to those chocolate brown eyes before he spoke with a much smaller voice, whispering it like a secret, "with me."
He could almost see Angel's heart break, if not the reflection of his own in those kind eyes, and watched him swallow and shake his head, "John. Please," he sighed again, acting like the weight of the world fell on his shoulders, "I can't do that. I would love to, but you know I can't. I have to take care of Lizzie-,"
"No," John cut him off again, the name blowing winter cold through his heart, a reminder of his betrayal, "Please, no. Just. Don't."
"I can't not take care of her; she's my-," Angel tried to protest calmly, but John just interrupted again, growing more frantic.
"Cancel it," John was tugging on Angel's shirt like a lifeline, feeling more and more desperate. He can't lose Angel. Not now when John needs him the most. He can't fucking give him up, no matter how much he doesn't want Lizzie to be hurt. "Cancel the fucking wedding or postpone it or break up or whatever, just don't-, don't fucking marry her. Don't."
"John," Angel sighed, taking John's face gently in his warm palms, ignoring his whining protests, "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. I will marry Lizzie. She loves me. And I love her too." His eyes had so much sadness in them as he said it as if it pained him just as much as it pained John to admit it.
It was so fucking unfair how much that simple confession hurt, even if it had been blatantly obvious. John stepped back, away from the comforting warmth, the icy cold of the unwanted heartbreak seeping into his chest and poisoning his mind. He knew it was unreasonable to be upset, he had that talk with himself many times in his head, but it still fucking stung .
Angel has been treating him so lovingly, so kindly, and now breaking his poor little lovesick heart as if it was all just a game. It probably was to him. He always knew Angel was just too perfect to be true. Now he knew it was all just a setup; it must have been fun to him to give false hope to a poor confused boy questioning his sexuality and use him. Maybe Luca was right all along about Angel.
Every king needs a disposable concubine next to their queen; it makes them appreciate their wife even more and helps relieve boredom.
John hated him so fucking much he could have blinded him right there if not for his cap still lying discarded in the alley.
"She does, huh," John sniffled, his voice dripping with pure venom, "Will she still fucking love you if she discovers that you've been cheating on her with someone else, eh?"
"John, please-," Angel didn't seem even remotely concerned, only shaking his head and trying to reach out to touch John again, but he stepped away and further back.
"Will her pretty heart break when she learns what a lying, cruel bastard you've been, playing around behind her back?! Will she fucking cancel the wedding?!" John's voice rose to a shouting level, his cheeks flaming from anger. The back of his thighs hit another table, blocking his way from retreating further, and Angel just came closer slowly, trying to calm him down, but he still had Luca's blood on his knuckles, and it was a frightening reminder of what the larger man could do to him.
"John, listen to me-," Angel took him gently by the shoulders again, looming over him, and the trembling came again.
My sweet angelic little brother would have put his hand over your mouth and a knife to your throat and would have told you to shut up, you little bitch, and would have taken his fill from your pretty body-
John hated how the first thing he thought of was that he would even want that, just to have Angel all to himself again. Holding him still, forcing himself on John, right here on the table, driving into him hard and fast and so fucking rough, all because he managed to anger him enough, give him the nudge that would make him let go, make him want to fuck John again. Want John again, even if it's just a game. Please .
"What would she fucking say, hm, when she finds out that her perfect fucking fiancé bedded some fucking boy nonetheless, eh?!"
Cold metal digging threateningly into his skin, the pulse beating faster beneath, the thrusts between his thighs almost matching the rhythm, and it hurts so good. But John can't scream, can't say a word with that big palm across his drooling mouth, dripping blood, and Angel is growling into his ear the way he growled at Luca, "Shut up, you little bitch."
Please. Please. Please.
"Would she cry? Would she tell you to fuck off?" John knew he sounded like a fucking maniac, excited from his dirty fantasies, but still crying and shouting at the larger man, trying to keep him from trashing too much. "Would she be fucking disgusted that you fucked a boy in the ass and came in his mouth and-,"
"John, she knows," Angel shook him gently, his voice calm and collected but firm enough to stop the train off the rails that was John's mind, freezing him effectively. "Lizzie knows."
She knows.
Lizzie fucking knows.
Oh, God.
John stared at Angel wide-eyed, unmoving, not even fucking breathing as Angel carried on while trying to rub at John's arms in a calming manner, but he could barely hear him over the emptiness screaming in his brain.
"John, listen to me," Angel snapped him gently out of his trance, leaning close and making sure John actually hears him, "she doesn't know it was with you, but she knows that I slept with a male friend of mine."
"How?" John's voice hasn't sounded this small or frightened since dad first came towards him with a horsewhip, "Why?"
"You left a hickey on me, John, I had to tell her," Angel shook his head as if has been the obvious answer while trying his hardest to relax the both of them with his calm tone, "I can't lie to her, she's my fiancée. But I did not give her a name, don't worry; she only knows I helped out a friend who questioned their sexuality. I didn't rat you out or anything."
"How-," John couldn't understand how Angel smiled at him so reassuringly with such ease; he felt like a boulder fell on his chest, and he wasn't even the one that had to confess to their girlfriend like that. "H-how did she take it?"
"Oh, she was delighted, don't worry," Angel chuckled as if that would not spike John's anxiety even higher. "She knows I'm good with first-timers, and she'd rather I help than someone else with not the right intentions."
Okay, what the fuck. What the absolute-
"I don't understand..."
"Lizzie and I are in an open relationship. We've always been," Angel explained slowly and calmly as if he were talking to a kindergartener, his hand on John's nape keeping him from trembling too much. "She, just like us, is interested in both men and women, and since I can't give her what a woman could, we agreed to let the other have fun on the side with people of our own sex. It was her idea, and it only seemed fair; we're very trusting of each other, so we never had any issues with that before, although I scarcely indulged in this privilege."
John could feel the room spin and the air growing scarce. He could technically understand what Angel was saying, but. What the fuck was he saying?
"She has quite a few girlfriends, some of which you know personally, and has felt bad for me for not taking advantage of our arrangement much previously; she sometimes tries to set me up with boys. She had quite an idea for my bachelor party regarding that, let me tell you," Angel laughed bashfully, while John could only frown. "The point is; do not feel any guilt, John. She knows, she's thrilled, we're happy, and this does not change a thing. Everything is alright, John."
No, no, no, no, no. NO .
This shit made no fucking sense.
"I know this feels like it makes no sense to you right now, believe me, I'd ask her to talk to you as well about it, but I do not want to out you without your consent." Angel held his face gently, trying to regulate John's breathing to calm him down and get him through the initial shock. "Luca had no idea because we don't think it's anyone's business that isn't involved, so don't worry about his threats. I'll talk to him. But don't worry, John," Angel crouched a bit to be down at John's level, looking him in the eyes, "You did nothing wrong. What we have done will not have any negative consequences, trust me."
John knew he should feel relieved, Lizzie isn't hurt, and they don't have to lie to her, but then why-
Why does it still hurt so much?
Why does it feel so painful that it was what they both knew it was; an experiment, nothing more?
Nothing with a deeper meaning.
"What if I want them?" John's question was barely audible, the teardrop falling down his lashes feeling louder, but Angel stilled, his smile melting off from John's helpless stare, not at all the reaction he expected, "What if I still want you to cancel the wedding because of it? Would it help if she knew it was me that you fucked?"
The marriage would feel too final, too much; John could never become more to Angel when he's married to someone else. He would go somewhere he couldn't follow.
Angel will forget about him. He will never love him back.
Angel shook his head and tried to laugh it off as if John was just joking around, "John, I'm telling you, this is not an issue, there's no reason to cancel-,"
"Please," John hated how desperate he sounded, how he craved to mean more to the older man than he had any right to be. He also hated how he tried to use Angel's weakness of his pouting lips begging, his expression changing with the whispered word, "You could still date, just don't get married, please."
"John, I can't," Angel tried again, this time trying to remain completely serious, "I mean it. I'm sorry but I can't. Not even if you ask me like that."
"Why not?" He was getting fucking hysteric again, but he couldn't control himself as he punched at Angel's shoulder in frustration, "Why?!"
"John-," Angel looked away from John's red-rimmed eyes, solemn.
"Why the fuck not-,"
"Listen-,"
"No, no, no-,"
"Lizzie is pregnant."
Oh.
"She's already in the third month. We know the baby is mine; she doesn't sleep with other men. I want to marry her before her belly shows to save her parents the embarrassment."
Oh .
"I knew I would marry her soon enough, but with the baby coming, it sped up the process with a year. I will not postpone the wedding, nor will I cancel it. I'm sorry, John."
The world seemed to burn and freeze at the same time, John stilling together with it.
Lizzie put the lock on Angel that he never could. Not even if he could make Angel love him more by some miracle. He knew he shouldn't think of it this way, but Lizzie fucking won .
John will never have Angel like her.
He will never have him like Tommy has Luca.
He will never be the one.
How could he ever be the one? He was just John .
He didn't notice his legs giving out until Angel gently took hold of his waist, keeping him from falling, and scooped him up into his arms, cooing softly.
"It's alright, John, everything will be fine," the soft voice felt like it was underwater, John not quite grasping it for a few seconds, "let's get your wounds cleaned, shall we?" Angel gave a little kiss to his neck as he picked John up and started carrying him to the kitchen, the smaller man remaining limp and motionless to the manhandling. "Good boy."
He felt so fucking sad he couldn't even cry anymore.
Angel placed him on the counter like a sack of flour (he might weigh even less to him) and had to arrange him to reassure himself that John wouldn't instantly fall over while he stepped away to look for a medical kit.
John just watched on, his mind numb with self-deprecating thoughts as his eyes roamed over the inside of the restaurant's kitchen. The tiling of the walls and the floor were disturbingly white, and the lamplight felt too harsh for him as if he were in a morgue. It was kind of ironic; he did feel a little dead.
"Here, eat this," he didn't even notice Angel come back with the kit and bring a glass jar of pannacotta together with it to him, drizzled with blood-red jam until Angel was nudging a spoonful of it close to his mouth, "tell me what you think. The sauce is a mix between raspberries and strawberries; my mother thinks it's too sweet."
John didn't take the dessert into his own hands, just opened his mouth like a doll, his glassy eyes boring into the older man as he pressed the spoon in. It felt indecent how Angel liked to take care of him like this, standing between his legs and putting things in his mouth; it reminded John of last night, with the water and the blowjob. Angel must have really liked his lips. He did say they were breathtaking.
Did he like them more than Lizzie's? He would sell his soul for it to be true.
John blinked up at him after sucking the utensil clean and licked his lips, watching Angel's gaze follow the movement, "It's fine." Everything you put in my mouth is delicious.
"Yeah?" Angel cleared his throat and forced himself to look away and pull the spoon back, placing the dessert on the counter and busying himself with finding the antiseptic in the medical box. "Anything to improve?" John's calves hooked around the back of Angel's thighs while his expression remained unsatisfied, secretly enjoying how the movement made Angel pause for a moment to swallow. "I plan on serving this at the wedding, and a cake with a similar taste and texture, so it has to be perfect."
Angel might marry someone else, but he can't deny that he wants John. He'll make Angel want him more than anything, even if that's the last thing he'll do.
"No, it's perfect as it is," his legs rubbed a bit at the larger man between them, enjoying the wet napkin gently cleaning his face, "I like cream and strawberries," John sighed, grimacing a little at the sting of the medicine on the cotton pad that Angel dabbed against the cuts, "And I like sweets."
"I thought so," Angel chuckled, "Raspberries can be a bit too sour, Lizzie likes that though, but I wanted to put strawberries in it for you. I knew you'd like them. Because of-," he swallowed, hesitating for a moment, embarrassed by his own confession, "because of your face, I guess."
"My face?" John blinked as Angel leaned to the side, not breaking free from the soft prison John's thighs provided, and took some ice out of the freezer. He gasped a little as Angel rubbed an ice cube softly against his bruises, cold water dripping down his cheek as his warm tears did minutes prior.
"Yeah," Angel swallowed, his voice a bit deeper while drawing little circles on John's cheekbone and under his eye. "Because... Your skin is so white, but your cheeks get so red sometimes, like your lips. It's cute. And you have these freckles that just-, I don't know. They remind me of strawberries when you blush," he lifted the ice cube away, his eyes glued to John, "like that."
John didn't realize that he was blushing until Angel pointed it out, which made him blush harder. He opened his mouth again, silently asking for permission that Angel understood immediately, placing the quickly melting cube on his tongue and letting those lips close around his fingers as if he were in a trance. John pushed the cube to the side with his tongue to suck on Angel's index and middle finger, and it took taking him down to the knuckle for Angel to clear his throat and pull back. The string of saliva that followed shined like a diamond necklace.
"Will you fuck me again?" John's question caught them both off guard, but it was too late to take it back.
"John, I-," Angel stuttered, looking anywhere but at the smaller man's face, "I can't."
"You said Lizzie doesn't mind." John's legs pulled him closer.
"I know, she doesn't but-,"
"Do you just not want to?" The ice was slowly melting, and he pushed it to his other cheek with an obscenely open mouth.
"What? No, John, I-"
"Is it because I'm ugly?" Angel's eyes locked onto his mouth, dripping droplets of water.
"John, you're not at all anything of the sort, I told you before-,"
"Did you not like it then? The sex? Was I not good? I can learn." The drops followed down his throat to his chest, exposed by the undone buttons.
"John," Angel stopped his rapid questions with his hands framing his cheeks, finally looking him in the eye again, "It's nothing like that. You're beautiful, you did great, I was very proud of you, and yes, Lizzie would let it, but-,"
"But?" He was so close.
"But," Angel took a deep breath, "But I don't think it would be a good idea."
"Why?" So close.
"I don't want to hurt you. The arrangement doesn't let me form, well, emotional attachments with the men I'm seeing."
"Then don't." I have enough love for the both of us.
Angel laughed at that, "That's easier said than done, I'm afraid, when it comes to you," he caressed a warm hand over John's bruised cheek, his eyes painfully kind. "This is for the best. I don't want to hurt you. You will thank me for this later, trust me. You're a good kid, not to mention absolutely gorgeous; you will have many more men fall at your feet, don't worry." The bastard had the nerve to talk to him again as if he were a child.
John pursed his lips in frustration, watching the older man pack up the medical kit with one hand and give him the pannacotta back with the other.
"I won't." He bit down on the ice, chewing it in anger to dissolve faster.
Angel shook his head, chuckling, "Of course you will, you -,"
"I'm getting married too." John looked at the dessert in his hands instead of Angel, who paused to pay attention to him, which was unfair because this way he couldn't hide the tears bubbling up. "Tommy's orders. I never met her, but I will have no choice but to marry her on Sunday. It's for a peace pact or whatever."
"Oh," Angel's hand rubbed unsurely at his shoulder, "Congratulations."
"Don't fucking -," John scoffed, "Don't say that and act like this is a good thing, okay? This shit is a bloody humiliation, a fucking punishment; Tommy just wants to reap the benefits, he doesn't care if I get sold like a piece of meat or a hooker, or -,"
"There's no shame in doing sex work."
"Oh, shut up," John couldn't stand his calm voice right now. As if that was the fucking point. "I'm going to be chained to some girl for the rest of my life that I don't even like, and I can't do anything about it just count down the minutes."
"You might like her if you get to know her," Angel fed him the rest of the pannacotta, trying to ease John's frustration with sweetness, "She might be beautiful. You might be the luckiest man on Earth, and you don't even know yet."
"Fat chance." John frowned while licking cream from the corner of his lip. "Will you come?"
"Hm?" Angel blinked up from staring at John's mouth again. He had a weak spot for it.
"To the wedding," John licked at the spoon, "You invited us to yours. It only seems fair." He wondered if the arrangement would be blown off if he got caught blowing Angel minutes prior. That would be fun.
Angel smiled, "If you invite me, I would love to. I could make your cake if you'd like. I could make some pastries too, perhaps? What would you like?" He fed another spoonful to John, his eyes locked on how those lips closed around it. Indecent.
John hummed around the utensil before pulling back with a pop, "This is pretty fucking good."
"Good," Angel's voice got a little deeper, and he must have noticed that too because he cleared his throat, trying to fight down the growing arousal John evoked in him, "I could serve these and a cake with a similar theme. I already have the plans for it anyway; I'll only have to make slight adjustments."
"Didn't you want to serve it at your own wedding?" John raised a brow, watching Angel clean the glass jar out methodically with the spoon to give the last bite to him.
"It's alright, I'll come up with something else," he raised the utensil to John's lips, licking his own nervously. "Lizzie doesn't like strawberries that much anyway; it would be too sweet for her. I'll make a raspberry dark chocolate cake; I know she likes that. With pistachios on top," his other hand rubbed unconsciously at John's thigh as he watched his mouth. "Would you like that?"
"For your wedding?" John let him pull the spoon out. The air felt too thick and hot. The pride he felt for being able to turn Angel on was messing with his head.
"Yes, you will come, right?" did Angel notice that he was massaging at John's hips? If he didn't, John hoped he wouldn't, "I could add some cream for you on top if it's not sweet enough for you."
"I'd have to taste it first to answer that," his hands reached for Angel's belt, watching his face for any rejection but receiving none as they watched each other's face dreamily and started unbuckling it. "Will you let me?"
Will you fuck me on your wedding day?
"Yes," Angel's gaze roamed over his face, his neck, the exposed part of his chest with dilated pupils as he leaned closer, his arms caging John in perfectly on the counter. "You could come over. When I'm working on the cake, after my shift, and you could. You could -,"
Bend over the kitchen counter? Blow you in the cloakroom? Get under the fucking table at the reception?
"Have a taste?" John cupped his bulge in his palm, breathing heavily against the other man's mouth, biting his lip at the twitch he felt, "Will you feed me, please? Put it in my mouth? Let me swallow the cream?" Fuck , the filth he thought about spilled into his mouth as well and made him blush so red; he'd be embarrassed if not for how Angel's hand on his thigh squeezed him and how his cock in his hand grew harder for it.
Fuck me.
"Yeah," Angel's voice was so rough, it made John want to fall to his knees right there if he wasn't already sitting on the counter. Angel didn't even pay attention as John pulled his belt out of the loops, magnetized to his face, "Anything for you."
"Thank you," John licked at Angel's lips, leaning in for a kiss as he threw the belt to the side with a happy sigh, "Daddy."
He didn't know if it was because of that word or the harsh sound of the belt buckle clattering against the tiled floor or the hungry wet kiss landing on his mouth, but the next second, Angel pulled back harshly, as if burned. He even broke out of John's leglock, stumbling as far back as he could to the kitchen island, holding onto it with a death grip. His other hand came up and covered his mouth as if he were afraid it would run loose without restraint, shocked at how far he'd let himself go with John.
He only breathed loudly for a minute, trying to gather enough willpower to seem convincing enough as he said, "John, we can't. I told you, it -, it wouldn't be a good idea. We can't let this escalate into something more."
"But it already has," John jumped off the counter, angry from being denied what they both fucking wanted, needing Angel's body heat and pressing close against him, ignoring the hands on his waist trying to keep him at a distance. "Don't you fucking get it?! I love you, you bastard!" Angel froze at the confession, unmoving even as John shook him by his shirt and went on with his furious rant. "And I know you don't feel the same; you don't have to give me another sappy monologue about how you love Lizzie, I don't give a fuck, I don't need you to fucking love me, just let me," he hit at Angel again in frustration, "let me fucking love you in peace, stop telling me we shouldn't and fuck me. The least you could do is fucking fuck me after making me love you this fucking much, you fucking dick."
"You don't, John," Angel shook his head, but it seemed like he was trying to convince himself, rather than John, "You don't love me. You're just confused, and it all feels a bit too much right now, and first times can be emotional-,"
"Fuck off," John snarled, shaking the larger man by his shirt, "I am confused, and it does feel too much, but I know what the fuck I'm feeling for you. I know I love you, I do, that's the only fucking thing I'm certain about right now, so don't tell me I don't, or I'll beat the shit out of you."
"John, please, I know you may feel this way right now, but only because I was the first man you've been with that didn't hurt you. You'll see, trust me, that this is just an exaggeration of your true feelings; it's common and natural, but you don't-,"
"But I do. I love you," John tried to hold back his sobs, desperately staring up at Angel, who just kept looking away and denying his feelings, so he took his face in his hands and kissed his cheek. "Here," corner of his eye, "here," just above his brow, "here," bridge of his nose, "here," Angel huffed out a little laugh at the mimicking of his own words, as John kissed his jaw, "and here especially," John shut him up with a kiss to his lips.
Angel let himself melt into John's warm mouth for a minute, taking him by the back of his neck and deepening the kiss with a groan, but tried to break it as he felt John's hands travel back down to undo his trousers.
"Here too," John bit at Angel's lower lip to keep him from pulling back and kissed him again with a moan as his palm cupped the engorged member beneath the material, "let me show you how much."
He tried to fall to his knees, but Angel caught him by his waist and kept him from sinking persistently, holding on by the last thread of his self-control, "No, John, no, no, I told you, we can't, please listen to me-,"
John really hated this bastard right now almost as much as he loved him.
"Fine, you know what?! fucking fine," John had fucking enough of this shit. He embarrassed himself too fucking much for this shit, "I'm the fucking idiot for confessing my stupid fucking feelings for you, trying to give you every fucking thing I have to offer like some virgin maiden." He wrenched himself out of Angel's hands and stormed off and out of the kitchen, throwing the door open, "But you don't fucking want to fuck me, and I can't fucking make you want to fuck me. So you know what?! Have it your fucking way."
"John? John, where are you going? Wait," Angel rushed after him worriedly, taking John by the wrist and halting his movements to the front door.
"I'm letting you go like you want me to, and I'm going home to get fucked by your brother!" John shouted back, trying to twist his arm out of the firm hold, "At least he wants to fuck me if you can't even fucking do that."
"No, John, you can't," Angel pulled him back with surprising force, horror written all over his face at John's words, "Luca isn't good for you; he'd hurt you."
"I don't fucking care! You won't love me, you won't fuck me, you won't even let me suck you off, hell, you won't even believe me when I say I fucking love you, so don't fucking try to tell me who can and who can't fuck me!"
John finally managed to wrestle himself out of the protective hold and rush for the door, only for Angel to take him by the arm again and turn him back around, pressing him flat against the wall before he could reach the handle.
"Don't, John, please, don't," Angel begged against his lips, and his strength was enough to make John still in awe for a minute and listen, "Don't let him finish what he started, I can't have him hurt you like that, please, John."
John just stared for a moment, enjoying the heat of the solid body pressed against him before he whispered back, "I'd rather have him beat me and fuck me like a whore than listen to you deny me again." Angel's shock wide eyes felt all too satisfying, so he pushed on, "It would hurt far less. I would beg him to fucking do it. I'd let him do anything he'd want to me and call him daddy while he does it."
"Don't you fucking dare," the low growl was unexpected, but it was so fucking hot it made John gasp as Angel's hands tightened on him before he tried to repress his anger again, "don't, John, I mean it. Don't give yourself to him. Not him. Anyone but him."
"Anyone?" John purred, his leg hooking around the back of Angel's thigh again, keeping him close, relishing in Angel's territorial rage as he continued in a sultry tone. "Then I'll go to the nearest pub," his hands traveled up to the older man's shoulders, "bend over the bar," the grip on him tightening felt delicious, "and tell the men that anyone could fuck me for a quid. Would you like that?"
"You wouldn't." Angel loomed over him dangerously, but it only turned John on more and more. "You wouldn't do it."
"I would," John breathed against his jaw, "Oh, I fucking would. And after they're done using me, I'd go to the next pub -,"
"No, don't -,"
"- bend over there too," John giggled as Angel picked him up with an angry huff, his legs instinctively locking behind his back as he kept talking, "and tell them that absolutely anyone could fuck me for half a quid since I'd be a used whore by then."
"Stop it," Angel grumbled as he carried him back towards the other end of the restaurant.
"And I'll keep going to pub after pub like that, and whoever fucks me better than you-,"
"John, stop," Angel held him with only one hand as he pushed open the door of the living quarters.
"- will get to fuck me for free, as many times as he'd like-," John didn't quiet down even as Angel carried him up the stairs and through the hallway to his room, "because as you said, there's no shame in doing sex work, right? So you won't mind if I become the town's cheapest whore -," Angel carried him inside, put him down on the dresser, and leaned back to turn the lights on, and lock the door before putting his hand on John's mouth to muffle his oncoming words.
"What did I say?"
John could only stare as the larger man growled into his face, his palm warm and salty and firm, and he couldn't fucking help but lick it, his lashes fluttering at the taste. Almost as if he were kissing Angel again.
"What did I say, John?" Angel pulled his hand away only to grab him by his jaw, keeping him in place as if John would want to go anywhere else. The authority in his voice, the way he pressed himself between John's legs made him feel dizzy with want.
"You said, "stop it," daddy," John smiled, "but you didn't tell me to stop what."
"Stop making me jealous."
John preened, "But you said I could give myself to anyone except for Luca. Did you change your mind?"
"Yes." Angel started unbuttoning his shirt, John helping him with it hastily.
"Then who's allowed to fuck me?" John bit his lip, working on his own shirt buttons as Angel pulled his undershirt over his head, his naked torso a distracting sight, "Who's going to take your place, hm? Who's going to be my new daddy?"
"No one," Angel yanked John's pants off with a force that left him trembling, pulling it all the way down his ankles and discarding it with his shoes on the floor carelessly.
"No one?" John's legs wrapped around his middle again as the older man settled between them. "What about -,"
"If any other man tries to have his way with you," Angel's voice was so deep it was almost unrecognizable, and John could only whimper as one of his hands wrapped loosely around his neck, "I'll cut his throat to the bone."
It was that absolute cold certainty with which Angel said it with, the seriousness in his features, the unwavering dark of his eyes that sent a shiver down John's spine. He just had to lean in and smash their lips together in a hungry kiss, scrambling frantically for purchase at the larger man's back. So this was the fun Angel Luca talked about, huh.
John never had a more vicious, indecent snog with anyone else, and it felt so thrilling, he thought he could come from that alone, his prick bobbing eagerly under the overly large undershirt; that was the only clothing still on him. Angel must have noticed that too, because he started nudging it up for John to get out of it and paused at the feel of the material, looking down and only realizing it now.
"Is this my shirt?" he only raised a brow, but then his grin spread as John tried to tug it back down.
"Yeah, you left it in your laundry basket."
"My mistake," Angel nodded before ripping it right open, sending the buttons flying, and dragging it off John's arms, who could only gasp in response.
"Hey-," he liked that shirt.
"I'll give you another," Angel licked filthily into his open mouth, "I'll give you anything you'd like and more, baby boy."
"But you said-,"
" Fuck what I said," Angel growled, "I'm not letting you go now; you had your chance."
John trembled and melted into their kiss, moaning as Angel's mouth traveled down to his jaw and neck, worshipping him with kisses like a man possessed, groping at his hips and chest. He felt so fucking happy, clawing at the older man's scalp as his stubble scratched his sensitive skin that he almost thought he was fucking drunk on the feeling.
This was like a fantasy come to life. It didn't feel real.
Then he looked up, and his breath caught for a minute at the sight of his reflection looking right back at him from the full-length wardrobe mirror across the narrow room. He almost forgot that that was a fucking mirror with how uncharacteristically debauched he looked, but the real surprise was Angel's naked back on display for him. As if he were an entirely different man, the muscles rippling under the tan, scarred skin, littered with cuts, stitches, and bullet marks, and amongst them the angry red welts that John's nails left behind from last night's fuck, still not properly healed and new ones adding to it in bright pink. But beneath all those wounds, indigo ink ran over the vast expanse of that strong back; John marveled at the beautifully detailed angel wings tattooed on that olive canvas, the scars like cracks in the marble of a perfect sculpture.
He really was an angel .
John sometimes forgot how Angel was part of the mafia, but his skin couldn't lie; that tattoo looked like the greatest trophy he has ever seen, sitting beneath the scar memorabilia like a broken promise. It must have hurt like hell. John dug his nails in and watched the ribbons he left behind on the wings, first white, then turning to a mean red.
John was so preoccupied with that fantastic back that he let out an embarrassingly loud shocked little moan as spit slick fingers entered his hole, still tender from yesterday's use. Angel covered the noise with his own mouth, pressing against John's and swallowing the oncoming mewls as his index and middle finger rooted around inside the tight passage to loosen it, but only using saliva wouldn't do with a cock the size of his.
"No," John fought back weakly as Angel pulled out and tried to lift him to carry him to the bed, "I want to do it here."
"On the dresser?" Angel raised a brow but let go of John to go over to the nightstand, retrieving his jar of lubricant quickly.
"And every other surface of your place," John laughed, drawing his legs up and watching himself as he fingered his hole in the mirror. Fuck , he looked like such a messy whore, "But let's start here, then on your desk, then on your windowsill, then against the wall -,"
"Then in the hallway, then in the bathroom, then in Luca's room, then in the living room, then in my parent's bedroom, then in the kitchen, then in the restaurant?" Angel chuckled as he stepped back between John's thighs, batting his hands away gently to fit his own lubricant-slick digits into the tight entrance.
"Yes, please, daddy, fuck ." John gasped, his lashes fluttering as those thick fingers worked him expertly open. "I want you to fuck me on every table so you can't serve any customers without thinking about me," a third digit joined the first two, and John had to pause for a moan, "and I want you to break Luca's bed with how hard you fuck me on it and make me come over and over again on his sheets."
Angel laughed before leaning down to lick at John's chest, breathing against his wet nipple, "Yeah? Leave a mess for him as a gift?"
"Mhm," John bit his lip to muffle his mewl as Angel sucked on the nub hard, abusing his prostate at the same time, "I want you to fuck me at home too, bang my headboard through the fucking wall. Fucking make Tommy regret every single time he had Luca come over." Angel chuckled with his mouth full with John's tit, "And fuck me all over your precious kitchen too, please."
"Ah, the kitchen is sacred," Angel pulled back with a wet pop, leaving John's nipple red and tender from the suction, taking his fingers out too at the same time.
"Then let's fucking christen it," John's grin dissolved with the mewl that erupted from him as Angel's thick cock started pressing inside, not as gently as before, but still careful not to cause serious hurt. God, how he loved how full and complete he felt from it. His nails drew blood on the older man's back as he finally bottomed out inside with a groan. The stretch was fucking incredible . "Fuck. fuck. Fuck me ."
"I want to, very much," Angel huffed out a breath before he started thrusting in and out with a steadily increasing pace, nowhere as patient as last night, but John couldn't be more grateful for that, "I wanted to for so long too. And then you fell into my lap, like a little miracle."
"Yeah?" John's voice was girlishly thin, but he couldn't care; that enormous cock felt so fucking good inside he wanted to cry. "You thought about me?"
"I try not to," Angel whispered against his mouth, his hands massaging at John's thighs, spread open just for him, "but there you are, at every corner of my mind. Looking so lovely." John blushed at the praise, "And when you bat those pretty lashes at me and beg me so sweetly with that fucking mouth," Angel thrust in a bit harder, and John had to hold on with a whine, "You make it so hard for me to be the good guy, John. And I want to be good."
So Luca wasn't fucking lying, huh.
"Don't," John cupped the stubbled cheeks and ground back against Angel's cock, "You don't have to be the good guy. Just mine. And I'll be your good boy, daddy."
"You are," Angel groaned into their next kiss and snapped his hips faster, driving into John harder, nailing his sweet spot and making his belly clench with the feeling as he growled, "So good, you're so good for me, John, such a good boy for daddy. The best."
The older man reached between them to take hold of John's smaller cock, but it was already shooting off between their bellies from the praises alone, the gentle tugs milking him through it as he cried through his orgasm, trying to muffle the noises into his shoulder. "I love you, daddy, I do, I love you, I love you."
He looked up dazedly to watch Angel fuck into his sensitive body in the mirror, taking notice of the blood running down his wings from the fresh wounds John's nails left behind, and he couldn't help but dig in deeper and claw.
"I love you, I love you, I love you," he whispered it like a prayer, something soft and truthful and only for his God to hear, and watched as more red dripped down his back as if John was ripping apart his wings, and the sight enchanted him so much he barely registered Angel answering.
"I love you too, forgive me, I do, I love you too," it felt like a divine blessing as he came inside with a groan, biting a matching mark as the one he left behind last night, just now on the other side as he pumped him so full.
John wondered if the apology was truly meant for him or maybe someone else? Lizzie, perhaps? God? Himself? Either way, John felt like the luckiest man on Earth.
He brought his bloody fingers to his lips and licked them clean as Angel cooled down, nuzzling against the juncture of his neck and kissing apologies around the new scar while John admired the ones he created in the mirror. "Ruining God's perfect saint," he'd title it.
John's tongue ran over his lips, tasting nothing but strawberries, wondering about what their wedding cake will be like.