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Dio Brando. If one were to search up the name in a dictionary, underneath it would most certainly describe him as “charisma personified, capable of effortlessly seducing anyone for his own goals”. To bring someone to a blissful release was a gift of his, just one of his many talents to offer the inferior human species. It was no wonder that people would fall for his effortless charm, fall to their knees to taste him, to be controlled by him. If he so wanted you, he would have you in his bed by evening, writhing in agonising wait to feel his touch…his presence.
But what Dio couldn’t have, made him want it even more. He assumed that his strong reaction was a result of his childhood. Where he longed for a better life and was resentful of those who had it handed to them on a silver platter. Hence why he despised his adopted brother.
But now, that desire to have what he shouldn’t was becoming… somewhat of a problem for the first time in his existence. Not so much because he didn’t think he would be capable of obtaining it, but more because his feelings were complex regarding it.
You see, he wanted his newfound friend. The young man, striving to become the very next generation of priests, modern Catholicism would soon thrive under his jurisdiction.
He needed Enrico Pucci.
It was wrong to lust greatly after a young man he couldn’t have. A man in a committed relationship to someone that wasn’t Dio. A marriage to God, the God that wasn’t Dio. Lusting after someone pious and holy in this way was blasphemous… it was wrong. He knew this, yet he continued to entertain such thoughts.
Granted… Dio was no saint himself. In his youth especially, he had fucked women that were to be wedded to some less impressive man than he. He had bedded men and women so commonly that it was practically a side hobby of his. Gaining nothing but temporary bliss from each encounter. Nothing compared to the feelings they experienced, the heartbreak and craving for more that long overstayed it’s welcome.
In the years since living in Egypt he had gone even further. Hosting a variety of orgies and threesomes with married couples where in each one he would make himself the centre of their affections. Slept with people as often as he fed, collected orgasms like stamps, tasted a mass of human arousal to satisfy his desire. He was an insatiable creature of lust, he practically needed sex to thrive.
But now… the fantastical delights of what he wanted to do with the seminarian were growing. Ones that no true friend that he was should think. The thoughts that consisted of pinning him against the wall, kissing the exposed skin of his neck when the top buttons on his shirt were undone. Slowly stripping him until he was bare and blushing before him. Dark, naked skin, that he often pictured, so beautiful and enchanting to witness. His large Doe-like eyes watching porcelain hands disrobe him before his own amber, ravenous eyes. Lips parted ever so slightly as his breath would hitch with each caress across his body, long eyelashes fluttering shut from the long awaited touch on his virgin skin. He needed to taste that skin, taste him in any capacity. So chaste and unspoilt from anyone else, ready for him to take and corrupt.
This particular evening he had indulged himself in a rather delicious meal, a young woman on holiday, seduced and took back to his mansion. Of course he had his fun with her, gave her all the pleasures he was capable of before draining her. Her own life’s flame dying out while riding the waves of her blissful ecstasy. When he drank so much blood he experienced a certain phenomenon, one he liked to call being blood-drunk. It made his mind wander and tongue looser than it usually was, where every thought normally was well thought out before it was spoken aloud. The sensation of getting merry from a few glasses of wine and other liquors back in his youth were long since gone. Now replaced with the the equivalent drunk-like feeling when he fully drank from someone, life force disappearing before his eyes. Being blood-drunk was never to dissimilar to that sensation he used to experience in his mortal years.
Another problem with being blood-drunk, it made him very horny. Usually after such a satisfying meal, he would call one of his many followers up to ravish to his hearts content. To satisfy the bubbling lust growing deep in his lower stomach. But now he sat with Enrico, who was looking so beautiful and he wanted badly to taste him. Did he want to drink from him, kiss his lips or suck his cock? Honestly, it was a combination of all of them. A mixture of his desires that plagued his mind as he watched him innocently turn the page of his book.
But alas, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Even if the scent of the boy under his heightened vampiric senses was leaving him salivating when in his presence. How he wanted to press his own lips against that boys, to replace the teeth that distractingly chewed his bottom lip in deep reading with his own.
But the thought of possessing his body was addicting enough… To gaze down as he lay naked before him. Leaning over to spread his thighs and help open him up until he was open and ready for his cock. Then he would drive his own erection inside him, nestling deep and slow to assure he was comfortable before pounding into him. Watch his face twist into one of pure pleasure, whines and whimpers the only coherent noises to leave his lips. Alternatively to let Enrico top him would he just as inviting. He could straddle him and take his cock deep inside his own arse. Oh how he’d be so tight and warm for Enrico… he would let him go as far as he could, he’d bounce and grind against him to bring him so much pleasure.
What if he didn’t want to become a sodomite? Well then that left other options open. Rather appealing ones at that. Perhaps he could suck his cock, take him deep into his own mouth and satisfy his craving by swallowing his release. Or he could use his hand… watch as he fell apart by the use of one hand only. Before the cries of Dio’s own name graced his ears so deliciously, painting his hand in his semen, the evidence of his pleasure.
But maybe those would be too much, perhaps he wouldn’t want to at all spoil his body with sinful endeavours. Well in that case, what if he were to openly masturbate before him? Enrico flustered as he was watching from underneath his body. He would be close enough to lightly touch his lips against the skin of his neck, inhale his scent and perhaps that craving could finally be satiated. His moans and pants of passion getting concealed against his skin. That way he wouldn’t even be engaging in any carnal act yet it would still be a delicious experience. Perhaps it would tempt him to do something… perhaps to touch him back. Maybe Enrico would be brave enough to touch his own at the same time…
No. No what was he thinking? As if that would ever be a suitable solution to his desire regarding this young man. Dio could have anyone, and he did often. For some inexplicable reason… the thought of ruining the bond they had formed, the friendship they had slowly built… it was painful. A seering and unending heaviness weighted down upon his chest, swirling in his stomach. The betrayal, he pictured? spreading across the boys features was enough to unsettle him greatly.
Dio felt his eyes trail down his body as Enrico lay upon his front, perusing the pages of the book he was reading, Dio’s book discarded to the side long ago. Eyes focused briefly upon his rear before purposely looking away to avoid anymore of those thoughts entering his mind. It seemed that Enrico sensed Dio’s longing stare, tilting his head to the side to meet his rather strong gaze. Dio smiled and Pucci responded with another smile.
“Have you lost interest in your novel?”
“Somewhat. I find there’s something much more… inviting instead before me. It’s distracting me greatly.”
Reign it in.
Pucci raised an eyebrow with the corner of his lip tilted up in amusement. “Oh really? Care to indulge me?”
Dio moved to lie on his front beside him, closing the gap between them effortlessly as he continued to smirk. “Your presence, My darling.”
Stop. Stop it now.
Enrico blushed, exhaling dramatically before putting on a version of Dio’s British accent. One that was admittedly, far from entirely accurate by Dio’s own ears. “Well I can’t say I blame you. I too would get distracted by my own beauty.” Pucci looked at him with a joking smile again. “That was my best impression of you. I think I’m getting your personality quite down.”
Dio laughed. “Cheeky little pup.”
He witnessed in the corner of his eye as Pucci flushed a deep red and blinked a few times in efforts to appear calm at Dio’s own words. Dio felt his hand coming to touch the back of his neck, to stroke at it before bringing his face closer. Flustered Enrico was so arousing… so beautiful.
Dio cleared his own throat before standing and walking over to the corner of the room, where a bottle of wine was always present.
“Drink?” Dio asked, trying to distract both himself and Enrico from the not-so-subtle flirtation tactics he was unconsciously carrying out.
“Please.”
Dio began to pour a glass for the pair of them. Mind wandering as the liquid poured slowly.
For once in his life, he felt guilty. He didn’t want to ruin their friendship that had recently began to blossom. A friendship that, given his disposition to such feelings and his untrustworthy nature, was considered to be… abnormally close and important to him. Every-time they sat together, he couldn’t help but smile back when Enrico looked at him with such an innocent smile. Friendly and intimate.
Was it possible to be so attracted to someone’s mind like Enrico’s? He spoke with the countenance of a man decades his own age, well-read and versed in philosophy, religion and finer arts. A comfortability found in times of silent reading within his own presence. No one before had ever felt comfortable to sit, relaxed within Dio’s own company. Yet here they were, enjoying the silence between them.
There was so much to admire about him after all. His deeper-than-expected voice, his intelligent conversations, the rare moments of his sarcastic and dry humour that brought a hummed laughter to escape Dio’s own throat. Even when the lust wasn’t piloting his mind, he couldn’t help but just admire him in every other capacity. His friendship was much more stimulating than any late night romp.
God this was so infuriating, he felt like a school boy with a crush. A crush, may he add, that he was unable to do anything about. Which was not something he had ever experienced before. Dio Brando did not fall for lesser life forms, he would never allow himself to fall for anyone, for that was a sign of weakness. He would never need to depend on anyone, particularly in an emotional basis.
How frustrating this all was.
But no matter how hard he tried to tell himself that it was just something that would pass, that his mind was just confused with the lust that he couldn’t satisfy, It wasn’t working. Never before had anyone ever made him feel so comfortable to be around before. To be his honest and true self, free from his God-like facade, capable of expressing vulnerability. Every moment spent with him felt like paradise, moments of nothing but warmth filling him. Nothing but absolute comfort that he never before believed was truly possibles
He passed the glass over to Enrico who smiled and thanked him before taking a quick sip. Sitting back beside him on the edge of the bed while Enrico sat up in a straighter position.
“How is it?”
Enrico pulled the glass away, his tongue wiping any any excess that still sat upon his lips. He took a second to inhale the wine before replying.
How delicious it would be to drink the wine from his lips directly. To sit in his lap as he did so… to hold the small curvature of his waist as their lips brushed together.
“Lovely. Intense and rich. What is this?”
“Amarone, full-bodied and expensive. I hadn’t tried one until recently but I find it quite to my palate.”
“It tastes like you.” Enrico mumbled and Dio playfully responded.
A flurry of images of how exactly he wanted Enrico to taste him flashed through his mind.
“Oh? Have you tasted me before? I’m sure I’d remember such a distinct memory.”
Dio raised an eyebrow and an alarmed expression spread across Enrico’s features. Panic-stricken at his own words, stumbling over his words.
“I mean… it tastes like how I imagine you would be as a wine. If that makes any sort of sense…”
Oh it makes perfect sense my love. Why don’t you come over and taste me yourself. Swallow me and drink in all I have to offer to you. I’m waiting.
Dio nodded. “I understand.”
The seminarian continued to look at him, his eyes not leaving Dio’s and he smiled.
“What do you think I’d taste like?”
Fucking tease.
Dio brought the glass up to his lips, eyes still glued to his dark ones before he whispered.
“Heavenly.”
“Heavenly?”
Cover it up.
Dio’s long, painted fingernails tapped the glass. “You are a holy man are you not?”
Enrico blinked a few times before breaking eye contact. “Yes…”
“I would only anticipate that you would taste that way then. It’s only fitting after all.”
“I suppose.” He muttered, bringing the glass up to his lips again. “I wish I could consume more alcohol without getting so easily intoxicated.”
Your presence is intoxicating enough for me. Your scent and sound of your blood rushing about your veins is driving me insane with thirst.
“Unfortunately life doesn’t quite go the way he want it to. If it did, I would wake up with a handsome virgin by my side to ravish every morning.”
Preferably with one witty, religious man wise beyond his years, with soft dark skin, pretty eyes and plump lips.
His eyes ran over to Enrico to watch his reaction to that sentence. Under his watchful gaze, his jaw tensed and his chest visibly rose and fell.
“That would be your wish?”
They sat staring at eachother with intense eye contact. His eyes spoke of everything yet…nothing. Emotions so prevalent in the forefront, betraying his true intentions to be appear calm and relaxed, when no doubt his mind was spiralling over something that Dio didn’t know. He always had a penchant for reading people, but for some reason Enrico was harder than most. Of course he could see the admiration in his glistening eyes, if he couldn’t he most certainly could hear his heartbeat which gave it away. But there was a reservation behind his eyes, emotions that he expertly kept hidden away. Locked away in manacles found in the deepest recesses of his mind.
How those eyes would be delicious to stare into when he was deep inside him. Wet and wide before fluttering shut with each pleasurable thrust, unable to mask his reaction to the euphoria spreading across his body. His beautiful long eyelashes, catching the tears of his ecstasy like morning dew upon blades of grass. To lick those tears would be a pleasure, a divine drink for the Gods.
How he would-
He took a deep breath, desperately trying to lock away such desires from growing. Frankly, it was beginning to piss him off that his effortless charm tactics were not receding when he didn’t want them. Unfortunately, such racing desires were beginning to present itself in a less-than- preferable bodily manner. Given his preference for tight spandex and chaps coupled with his very impressive size, his arousal would be extremely difficult to conceal before the seminarians eyes. The last thing he wanted was for Enrico to see that and potentially get offended or uncomfortable in knowing that Dio was extremely excited. The pleasurable sensation of arousal pooling in his stomach was, for the first time in his life, a nuisance.
“Forgive me my Enrico… that wasn’t entirely appropriate to discuss with you.”
Enrico’s lower lip passed between his teeth briefly and swallowed.
“That’s… okay… I don’t mind. I will talk about anything with you. After all, I owe you everything.”
Dio tilted his head. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“You saved my life Dio.”
Dio laughed briefly. “How you flatter me so, but that’s quite a false statement Enrico.”
“How so?”
“I merely handed you the tools, you were the one to take matters into your own hands and become who you are today.”
Enrico’s lips were pouted and parted ever so slight. Was he doing this purposely? Was he trying to rile the vampire up and tempt him to kiss those lips? To drive his tongue against them. Oh he had to stifle a moan at the sight, he had to catch the flirtatious words about to leave his lips.
“I’m not sure I’m entirely at peace with everything I did.”
In that moment, Enrico’s vulnerability was never more present. It brought a sharp pain to Dio’s chest that he really didn’t enjoy.
Within Dio’s own thoughts, he inched closer to him, wrapping his larger arms around the small frame of the seminarian. Feeling each raise of his chest with steady breaths at the touch he was so devoid of since a young lad. Dio’s own chin resting upon his shoulder, lacing his hands across his stomach, eager to provide some semblance of comfort. Though, it wasn’t as if he was known for being the most patient and most comforting at the best of times. A being who divulged quite a lot of pleasure from someone else’s suffering, gratuitously so. He was a pure sadist and he was comfortable with that. Anything that resembled the opposite was outside of his comfort zone. Empathy was something that was foreign to the vampire.
But for Enrico, he would try. He longed to make him feel comfortable in any capacity, to show him the tactile affection that all humans deserved to taste. With Enrico, there was never a desire to do something with a manipulative end-goal or reward in mind. He genuinely wanted to make him feel happy. To make him laugh or smile from his cold touch as a creature of the night would be… gratifying beyond anything else.
But his hand moved despite its best efforts, inching over and stroking over the back of his hand in attempts to garner his attention once more. Revelling in the hairs that stood up on the back of his hand from his touch alone. If such a gentle touch was capable of a full body reaction, like the one Enrico appeared to be experiencing, God knows how overstimulated he would get by his experienced hand.
“Enrico… I…”
What was he saying? What was he stuttering over? What words was he trying to confess to him? It’s ironic how much he wanted to confess his every guilty desire, it appeared that he would truly make a fitting priest. His every hidden desire, hinting at something more than just lust and friendship. Something he refused to acknowledge any further lest it begin to consume his mind.
Enrico looked up and his face was redder than before, most likely a result from the gentle touch of his hand against Dio’s. He replied with a quiet voice that sounded weaker, breathier than before.
“Yes?”
Now would be the time to drive his lips against him. To just bridge the small gap between them, to bring his hand to settle behind his neck.
But he conceded. He stroked his hand once with his thumb before pulling it away.
“You shouldn’t feel such guilt. Your actions were your own and the outcome you couldn’t have known. Gravity and your own destiny were at play, without it you would’ve have gained the considerable power of your stand… you wouldn’t have met me. You don’t need to fear anything, you don’t need to hold that guilt until it festers and breaks you. I’ll be damned if I let you hurt yourself anymore in that way.”
Upon his unexpected emotional outburst, one so unlike him, Dio looked away from the burning stare of Enrico.
“Dio… thank you.” He heard the whispered voice of Enrico, turning back to look at him again.
“I mean it. Every word, my love.”
Enrico’s cheeks flushed again. “Do you call everyone such pet names Dio?”
“It slips free unintentionally. Does it offend you?”
He shook his head. “Not at all.”
“Good. Then I won’t have to make a point to reign it in. Darling.”
Enrico smirked and raised his empty glass up to Dio. Bringing his hand out to the side of him while his attention began to once again settle upon the book beside him.
“Top me up then, dear.”
His cheeky nature… God it was enthralling. Never could anyone else get away with such insolent actions or words.
He stood up to grab the bottle, and came to sit back on the bed, Pucci keeping the glass still and outstretched in one hand as he continued to read. Dio brought the wine to begin pouring from behind him. Then as he leaned over, he was hit by the most intense aroma. A scent that was so delicious it began to cloud his mind. The only thing he could focus on in this moment.
The scent of his blood.
Thirst. Indescribable hunger. Delicious crimson nectar flowing beneath the dark skin. To taste him would be divinity, to taste how sweet his blood would no doubt be. Nothing would be as important as tasting him. To piece his fangs into his skin, the warm crimson fluid running into his mouth, settling across his tongue before swallowing it. His own saliva threatening to spill from his own lips. He had already fed on a satisfactory meal, but to gorge himself on such magnificent blood would be incredible. A truly mind-blowing-
“Dio?”
Dio opened his eyes and found himself mere centimetres away from the back of Enrico’s neck. His own lips threatening to touch and caress the area of his neck that pulsed with each heart rate. Desire and hunger had took over his rational thoughts for a fleeting moment, a loss of his usual control.He attempted to remove himself from the scene at hand, to avoid arousing any suspicion after being caught in such a precarious situation. But It was too late to use his stand for he had already noticed. Enrico’s confused expression, sprinkled with some element of perhaps fear (and what he hoped was potentially lust), stared back at him.
“What… are you doing?”
Dio licked his lips. He had to save this somehow.
“I was just admiring your scent. Your aftershave is delectable. Forgive my impudence.”
His skin was so privy to reddening upon most of Dio’s words. What a sight to behold.
“You like the smell of me?”
“It appears I do.”
Pucci gulped and sipped from his freshly topped up glass of wine. “I suppose that is high praise.”
Desire coursed through Dio’s frozen veins, his arousal was almost prominent in his leotard and he had to deal with it immediately. More words from Enrico’s mouth and he would be on the verge of pouncing and having him. No. If he wanted to savour their friendship he best remove himself from his presence at once. Reconvene once he had sorted out his problem that had… arisen.
“Forgive me, my Enrico, I have some business to attend to. I shall return to you this evening once all is done, if that is okay with you?”
Pucci nodded. “Of course Dio. I await your company.”
Hastily he took his exit, immediately calling upon one of his many followers to bring one of his loyal pets up to his room. Leaving behind his friend because right now, he needed to fuck someone else. Someone unimportant who he harboured no true feelings towards unlike the seminarian. Someone that he decided he will bed with the intent to just satisfy his pleasure. Perhaps of a similar complexion, to picture that it was Enrico himself he were with. He needed to reset his body and mind to better enjoy his company with his friend this evening.
Because if he lost Enrico from this sinful lust of his… he would never forgive himself. If he lost Enrico, he would despise himself.
He wouldn’t let this wretched desire ruin that.