angst – Cyberrat Writes

Not beta read at all :)))))) last part of the sub!Gabe/dom!Lúcio storyline :)))) only took me like a year :))))))))))))) (I like the last part tho :3c)

For the beginning: angst tw, past abuse tw, anxiety attack tw

Part 1 (no real fic just rambling)

Part 2 (no real fic just rambling)

Lúcio stares down at the data stick in his hand, turning it around and around between his fingers. His knee is bouncing nervously. The stick had been in his mail a couple days ago, taped to a little piece of paper.

The fruits of my research – Reinhardt

Behind him, Gabriel is lying on the bed, watching his back quietly. The room is dark, and when Lúcio turns to glance at his submissive, the cold light of the computer screen doesn’t quite reach the other man’s face.

He turns back around and stares at the stick some more. Turns it around and around. It has been haunting him since he pulled it out of the mail, wondering what Reinhardt has dug up about Gabriel.

It takes him a while longer before he finally plugs the stick in and watches the videos his old mentor had found for him.

Gabriel is a ghostly presence at his back. He is not making a sound while Lúcio watches, yet he’s never been as aware of his submissive’s presence in a room as in those nauseating hours.

.oOo.

It hasn’t been as difficult to watch the footage as Gabriel had surmised it might be. He doesn’t identify with the man drugged up to incoherence and made to debase himself for cajoling strangers.

He recognizes himself, vaguely, but most of all he is watching the kid’s reactions.

Lúcio’s leg had bounced restlessly through the first ten minutes, shoulders rigid. Slowly, however, the bounce had stopped in favor of some kind of stupor: the kid sitting more quiet than Gabriel has ever seen him, hands folded in his lap, watching video after video.

.oOo.

Gabriel feels himself walking on eggshells around Lúcio even though he doesn’t need to. He didn’t do anything wrong – there is nothing to apologize anymore, not after he’s got his discipline from his dominant a couple weeks ago.

And yet…

Lúcio has been quiet and withdrawn, youthful face edged into tight, hard lines. He looks angry in a way that makes Gabriel want to lie down on his back and show him his belly – offer up his body for stress relief. The need to be the punching bag is as much trained into him as it is his intrinsic need to be good for his dominant, and it makes him antsy all on its own.

Antsy and angry. Like he should have grown out of that mindless, self-destructive response, especially after watching his pathetic displays captured on video for eternity. Like he learned nothing at all and is doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again without any improvement in sight.

He feels like a lemming that is too… too… too stupid to look after itself, and it makes him want to destroy things.

Himself, first and foremost.

.oOo.

It feels like he is watching himself from the outside, sometimes. Like he is not entirely his own person these days.

He can see himself slipping into his tired, old behavioral patterns that he thought he had shucked off years ago, and it makes him feel… hopeless.

He can’t get out of it; can’t get out of the mindset, the stupid, idiotic need that he make his dominant happy again because he feels like he is the reason Lúcio has stopped laughing every single moment of the day and instead became so quiet it makes Gabriel feel like he has to hurt himself in his anxiety.

He wants the old dynamic back. He wants things to be how they had been before he fucked up. He wants a routine that helps him not being so horribly, horribly stupid.

At work, he’s capable. His colleagues look at him for advice more often than not. They respect him to a T. He is independent.

At home he wants to crawl on his knees towards his dominant and hide his face in his lap. He wants to beg for his hands on him again, but first and foremost he wants to cry – and he can’t do any of this because he’s burned all those bridges in the months he’s lived with Lúcio, hasn’t he?

He’s been an ass every turn of the way, hissing and snapping and growling at his dominant, and he feels like he’s now forfeited every right to seeking solace.

Lúcio is so young, still…

Gabriel is breaking patterns, trying to lift Lúcio’s mood. He sits down close to him, trying to offer himself up, make himself available for touch without Lúcio having to coax him into it. He brings home treats after work. He cleans the apartment.

Most of all, he hovers. He tries to anticipate what his dominant might need. He tries to anticipate when his dominant might decide that what he needs is not him anymore.

He sees himself spiraling out of control, ready to humiliate himself – to do anything just to make things go back the way they were – yet can’t make himself stop.

.o.

“Stop.”

Gabriel jerks to a halt at the door of Lúcio’s studio, staring at him in hopeless confusion, big hands hanging uselessly at his sides. He turns them, showing Lúcio their vulnerable palms for some reason. Like he needs to proof that he has no weapons.

Lúcio is standing at his chair, one hand on the back of it. He’s been ready to sit down when he’s noticed Gabriel traipsing after him again like a lost puppy.

Gabriel feels nauseous, his belly clenched into a tight, hard fist. He’s close to retching, anxiety kicking up a storm; only growing the longer his dominant looks at him with a frown on his face.

“Why are you here?”

Gabriel’s head lowers, shoulders pulling up minimally. He can’t look at Lúcio anymore and instead is staring at his feet. He’s at a loss for words. He feels like crying, but…

but he’s no crybaby.

“Dude, you hate sitting in here while I work. Why are you following me in, then?”

Gabriel’s nose starts running, his eyes are so very wet. He bites his lips and tries to remain quiet because if he makes a sound, he will bawl like a little kid in front of his dominant.

He hears Lúcio’s deep sigh. He moves around – he can see his shadow on the hardwood floor, even if he can’t hear his socked feet.

After a while, there’s the sound of Lúcio sitting down in his chair.

“Come here, babe.”

Gabriel glances up and sees a large, green pillow on the floor, shaped like a frog face. His pillow – the one Lúcio always lets him kneel on when he feels like wrestling his stupidly stubborn ass into compliance.

He presses his mouth into a tight line as he feels his lips tremble and stumbles forward, throwing himself onto the pillow, forehead slamming violently against his dominant’s thigh. He’s breathing quick and loud, wet gasps that make him feel humiliated.

His hair is shorn short enough that he is sure his flush of embarrassment is visible even there.

Lúcio’s soft fingers touch the nape of his neck carefully for a second before he seems to think better of it and clasps a firm hand there, thumb scratching along the line of shorn hair.

Gabriel stares at the hardwood floor, everything swimming in front of his wet eyes.

“Why are you so keyed up?” Lúcio murmurs, his other hand joining to rub firm across the shorn head. Lúcio is maybe half of what Gabriel weighs, but he feels as anchored in this moment as he’s sure he could never achieve on his own.

He groans low and pained as muscles start relaxing that have been cramped for weeks now.

“My poor boy. What are you eating yourself up for? Everything is good.”

Gabriel shakes his head minimally simply to do something; to feel the fabric of Lúcio’s bermuda shorts drag against the skin of his forehead.

Lúcio is silent for a while, the motions of his hands rubbing hypnotically across Gabriel’s head, and slowly incorporating the slope of his shoulders, lulling him to an almost sleep.

At last, he leans down, curling over Gabriel and smothering him in the smell of him. The need to cry like a child has abated somewhat, and his nose is free to take in deep gulps.

Just a month ago he would have tried to squirm his way out of a headlock like this and retreated from the room with an ill-tempered grumble. A month ago, however, he also hadn’t known how precious Lúcio’s disregard for personal boundaries was to him until his dominant wasn’t up in his grill at all times anymore.

“I thought you needed time,” Lúcio murmurs next to Gabriel’s ear, his voice sending shivers down his spine. “I know I needed time. It was a lot to take in, dude. But-” he hesitates and leans up a little; uncurls from the small cocoon he created around Gabriel’s head to grab his head and pull it up, staring into his face with a solemn expression. “It doesn’t change anything between us, all right? I don’t give a shit about what you have done earlier. I… understand better now, though, so maybe it was for the best? I dunno. Damn.”

He groans and lets his head fall back into his neck. his hands are steady around Gabriel’s jaw, keeping him in place with gentle force.

“It was hard seeing you like that,” he says, voice scratchy and a bit forced, and Gabriel realizes with a weird feeling in his belly that he sounds close to tears himself, now. “Knowing something and seeing it are just… dude, it’s hard.”

He falls back into silence for a moment, then looks back down at Gabriel, his face and voice back under control, fingertips slipping up and across Gabriel’s face, forcing him to close his eyes so they can ghost across the lids where they stay and make him sit like that.

“I think it’s as good as any reason for a new beginning,” he murmurs, voice sounding so close and intimate even though he hasn’t moved.

The darkness makes Gabriel squirmy in a good way. A little excited. Aroused. His body relaxes, leaning more heavily into Lúcio’s thigh, and the low chuckle his dominant produces makes him feel like a million dollars. His mouth drops open, and he groans low and wrecked.

“Oh would you look at that?” Lúcio mumbles, “Look how good you’re being for me already… my good boy-o.” Usually he hates it when his dominant calls him that, but this time he is close to drooling, already a bit loopy and into his head, drunk on the affection he felt certain he would never have again.

“You’re already giving me so many ideas to play with you, pretty boy. MMhhh yeah. I got some nice ideas for my submissive. So nice and well-behaved for me.

Stay with me, hm? I want you to kneel for me while I work, Gabriel. Let’s leave that other shit behind us and go forward.”

.oOo.

“You look so pretty in my ropes, babe. Are you comfortable?”

Gabriel grits his teeth, bad temper rising fast as he feels his dominant loosely holding the two ends of the thin green rope together beneath his wrists. He hasn’t even knotted it yet.

“I’ve done this before,” Gabriel spits out, shoulders rigid, staring moodily at the ground. “Get on with it.”

Lúcio hums, his smooth fingertips slowly rubbing along the edges of Gabriel’s hands, and then across his palms. It is sometimes startling for him how soft and unused Lúcio is. The kid is working hard, but not with his hands – not like Gabriel is in the garage.

There are no scars, no callouses on his dominant; just a whole lot of quiet, unyielding strength and endless patience.

Gabriel feels weepy, and that makes him even more antsy. He growls again, choked and a little wet and hunches his shoulders forward, balls his fists…

“No,” Lúcio says, soft but firm, fingers immediately leaving their idle petting of Gabriel’s hands. He grabs his submissive’s shoulder and pulls him back into position. “Spine straight. Stand still, Gabriel.”

And then, when Gabriel doesn’t move a muscle: “Good boy.”

Gabriel squeezes his eyes shut, grinds his teeth, and breathes deeply.

.o.

“Ah man,” Lúcio sighs after a while, taking a step back and observing his work. “You look so pretty like this. Such a good boy, holding still and letting me put you in my ropes. Damn.”

There isn’t much rope, just an intricate criss-cross of bright green holding his forearms together behind his back.

Gabriel keeps quiet, head hanging low as he subtly shifts his hands, rotating his wrists to feel how tight Lúcio had made his rope work. A hand beneath his chin startles him, causing him almost to jerk back as his dominant coaxes his head up and holds it with a firm grip on his jaw.

“There. Like this. Don’t hide, now.”

Gabriel bares his teeth, but there is no real heat in it. When Lúcio thumbs with his free hand at one of his nipples, his jaw falls open on a soft, needy pant, cock lifting a little from between his thighs.

“There you go. Love how responsive you are. Such nice, sensitive tits.”

As Gabriel watches, his dominant turns minimally and fishes for a bandana just as bright green as the ropes binding his arms. He slowly pulls it through his fingers as he watches his submissive with a pensive expression.

Gabriel can’t help but straighten up a bit, chin lifting, chest pushing out. His nipple is still tingling where Lúcio touched it. He is hyper aware of the silver barbell, feeling like it is heavier than usual and putting more pressure onto the sensitive tissue. He is preening, he realises with a weird twist to his stomach, and Lúcio’s face relaxes, warm eyes brightening.

“That’s my boy! Damn, but you’re gorgeous.”

He can feel himself slipping down – not physically but mentally, his attention zeroing in on his dominant, hanging onto his every word; and while he wants this; has always wanted exactly this, a part of him rebels at how quickly he goes under for Lúcio.

Still, when his dominant lifts the bandana with a questioning look, he bends down easily, offering himself up.

Lúcio is murmuring low praise, a constant stream of input as the world around him goes dark, yet still it is… scary. Everything feels that much more significant when he can’t anticipate what is going to come. He jerks and flinches when Lúcio touches his shoulder, and the young man shushes him, grips his bicep with a firm, warm hand.

“Easy, now. Look at you taking everything I give you. I’m going to give you your ball now. You’ll remember to let it drop if something is wrong?”

“Yes, Sir.” He whispers the response, feeling a bit meek, rebelliousness cracking away as he is trapped in darkness, arms immobilized. His head swivels towards Lúcio, tracking every little sound he makes. Moments later he feels a soft ball placed into one of his palms. He curls his fingers around it and holds on for dear life.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Are you scared?”

“No.” And then after a second he ads in a pathetic little whine: “A little.”

His dominant steps close, warm breath fanning across his cheek a moment before he feels a kiss pressed against his beard.

“You don’t need to. I’ve got you. And you have your ball if you need me to stop. Do you want your gag now?”

He breathes deeply, head lowering until his forehead is pressed against Lúcio’s shoulder, subtly sniffing at his skin. His scent is so comforting it almost hurts. Lùcio is hugging him loosely, fingers dancing along a few small scars as he waits for Gabriel to get a grip on himself.

Finally, he nods and rightens himself up once more, mouth obediently opening for his gag.

.o.

Gabriel twists as he feels the warm washcloth slip from the dip of his spine that it had travelled along, down into the cleft of his ass. He slowly manipulates his feet wider, lifting up onto their tips to push his ass into the warmth like a cat.

His dominant hums low and pleased, the fingers inside the washcloth pressing insistently against Gabriel’s hole. There is no intent of trying to slip in – just a possessive press that makes electricity zing from the tips of his toes up into the small of his back.

They move, starting little circling motions over the nervous, fluttering clench of the muscle, and Gabriel groans deep and heartfelt into the gag.

“There you go,” Lúcio murmurs, his other hand landing briefly on the back of Gabriel’s neck to squeeze and press him down a bit more firmly for good measure. Gabriel is leaning across a padded bank, feeling utterly contained in himself and his dominant.

There is nothing to distract him; no obligation to try and figure out what his dominant’s facial expression means, or whether what he is doing could be embarrassing. Just him and the warmth of the washcloth, the rough texture wandering down and leaving a mildly cool trail of wetness behind.

It feels good, cupping his heavy sac. Keeping it nice and warm as his dominant moves his fingers, rolling the full testicles in his palm. Next to it, his cock is hard, throbbing dully in need. The metal pierced along the underside pulls vaguely at the silky skin and makes him hyper aware of the foreskin not quite rolled down the fat head yet.

Lúcio hadn’t touched his cock, but he hopes that if he offers himself up enough, he might consider it.

Gabriel can’t even remember the last time he’s been so fixated on his dominant; the last time he wondered how good he had to be to make him touch his body and coax an orgasm out of him instead of wondering how to debase himself in order to make him happy.

“Are you ready, Gabriel?” Lúcio murmurs, voice pitched low; an amused lilt to it that makes Gabriel nod even before he’s parsed the question. Eager and hopeful, hand clenched around the soft little ball to make sure he wouldn’t lose track of it.

The warm washcloth vanishes, then, seconds before a new sensation engulfs his balls just as gentle and loving, with an equally rough texture. His brain has two false starts, body poised, breath stuck in his throat as what he’s had anticipated doesn’t come true: the washcloth is no longer a nice, toe-curling warmth but cold enough to make everything stutter to a halt.

It is not freezing, but it might as well have been after the delicious warmth of before.

Gabriel howls into his gag, back arching, then going round as he hunches his hips down, trying to get away from the cold.

Lúcio chuckles, warm and commiserating as he puts a hand between Gabriel’s shoulder blades, making sure he stays where he is.

“Good boy… Stay still, now. Yeah. You’re gonna love what I’ve planned for you.”

.o.

Gabriel can’t stay still any longer. He is jumping like a rabbit with its hind legs trapped, bucking and winding as his body shivers out false response after false response. His dominant has long since stopped dutifully alternating the warmth from the cold, and instead uses them at whim, never letting his submissive get too caught up in the moment.

His nipples, pressed against the warmed leather he is leaning on, are painfully tight and sending shocks of pleasure down his spine whenever the piercings roll against the surface.

He is drooling into his gag, blindfold wet with tears of overstimulation. He doesn’t know for sure, but he thinks he might have come already, body pulsing out one or two shivery orgasms, tricked into them by his dominant first cuddling him in warmth before gently rubbing him down again.

Gabriel dreads the next touch as much as he needs it, cock fat and heavy, swinging, wet with water and pre-cum, glans exposed to the cool air of the room. He twists awkwardly, half his body turning away as the other half turns into his dominant, little noises escaping him that sound more like squeaks than anything else.

His hand vaguely hurts, fingers so tightly clenched around the ball, panicked that he might lose it without meaning to.

When Lúcio touches him again, hands settling warm and sure on his hips, Gabriel cries out, head thrown back, brain firing and trying to figure out if the touch is warm or cold, stuttering and retrying until he realizes it is neither, not really – Lúcio has put away the washcloths, and instead is rubbing slow circles into his skin with his thumbs.

“Damn, babe.” He sounds choked, voice raspy. Gabriel is hyper aware of him; feels how his cock is pressing into the back of his thigh, and with a little whimper he realizes how he can feel wetness smearing against the trembling muscle: his dominant is naked. “You’re so out of it, Gabriel. Damn… Drooling like a good boy. Are you with me? Can you hear me?”

He nods frantically, rubbing his cheek against the surface of the bench, mindless and needy, dragging it across the mess of sweat and spit there.

One of his dominant’s hands moves, sliding down his ass and his trembling thigh to keep him notified of where it is going before reaching sure and self-assured between his thighs and taking a hold of his swollen cock.

He wants to cry out, but all he can do is whimper pathetically, holding still in his exhaustion.

Lúcio hums and squeezes him gently, then gives him two long, strokes that frizz his mind and make him gurgle. His smooth, firm fingers rolling against the ladder of barbell piercings, moving them gently beneath the thin, tender skin.

“You have such a lovely cock. It’s been so nice and hard for me the entire time. Such an attentive boy, Gabriel. I wonder…”

He trails off, fingers squeezing just beneath the fat, swollen head, thumb rubbing across the crown and blunt fingernail carefully pressing against the slit there.

Gabriel freezes, halts his breath, then goes lax all over like a puppet with its strings cut. His balls feel too full and tender, swollen to double their size. He feels like a prized breeding bull that’s getting inspected, and still he wants to preen for Lúcio.

“You’ve been so well-behaved, babe. You have earned yourself a treat…”

He moves his hips, pressing his weeping cock against Gabriel’s trembling thigh muscle, and his brain jumps to it, making him babble indistinct with the ball gag still in his mouth, frantic and begging, voice broken and whiney as more tears wet the inside of his blindfold.

“Calm,” Lúcio murmurs low even though his own voice is trembling with excitement, hand letting go of Gabriel’s cock to travel back up and touch his hole, warm and loose and so very ready. “You want my dick, babe? Right here? Have you earned my cock, good boy?”

Yes, yes, yes, God yes, please, please, please, please…

He doesn’t know what sounds he’s made, only that he’s crying openly now, sobbing unabashedly as his nose runs and his cheeks get wet. He loses control over his body and couldn’t care less as his dominant presses kisses against the small of his back and shushes him until the first onslaught of need has rolled through him.

“Yeah, you earned it.”

.o.

His dominant is a lot shorter than him and Gabriel would have tripped over himself to get himself to the right height if he hadn’t stood still already.

As is, he hunches down, head lifted and turned, trying to see whether he is being a good boy even though he is wearing a blindfold. Logic has fled him and all vestiges of fear of being made fun of have let go of him. In their stead the overwhelming need to have his dominant’s cock is eating him up and making him eager like a dog.

Lúcio chuckles and rubs his hips, the small of his back, the swell of his bicep. He shifts and moves closer, and then there’s a blunt, delicious pressure against Gabriel’s hole.

Feeling his dominant slide inside him is better than anything he could have thought up in those feverish, needy nights he spent alone at home, fantasizing of being good enough for Lúcio to earn his cock.

It’s slow and perfect, spreading him open until the muscle burns deep and delicious, insides throbbing and clenching down; hugging the intruder and trying desperately to pull him deeper.

His body is in love with Lúcio and there is no way he could have hidden it even if he wanted to.

His dominant laughs softly, voice cracking, sounding elated to the point of hysteria as he rocks his hips, fucking his submissive for the first time.

“Not gonna last long,” he whimpers, leaning forward, pressing his forehead against Gabriel’s bound forearms.

I know he wants to say I know I know I know, but all he does is gurgle, soft and weak, body trembling, cock flexing as he is getting deep dicked gently, intimately, Lúcio barely moving enough to pull even an inch out.

Like he couldn’t bear the thought of not being inside Gabriel’s warm, suckling body to the very hilt. Like he wanted to crawl into his submissive.

Gabriel imagines that he can feel every vein; can feel the ridge of Lúcio’s cock drag against the spongy, wet insides of his gut.

He knows his dominant’s cock intimately; has spent hours lapping at it, keeping it nice and warm, worshipping it; yet feeling it finally spread him open is making his head spin and cock drool, balls fat and swollen.

He wants to come, wants to come, wants to come so bad. He’s sobbing, bawling openly, shaking and sweating as he curls into his dominant and lets him hold him, a little stiff, a little uncoordinated as his hips jerk into him, fucking him uneducated and enthusiastic like the young man he is.

“Feel so good, so good, so good,” Lúcio is mumbling, a little delirious, pressing hot, suckling kisses against whatever patch of skin he can find. “My good boy. My good boy. Not gonna let you go ever again. Gonna keep you nice and safe. Put you in my damn pocket and carry you around.”

There’s white noise filling Gabriel’s head when he comes, thick pulses of come that shake him to the very core of his being, body shaking and uncoordinated but held nice and secure by his dominant’s arms and the ropes he put on him.

He feels so safe and loved.

Goddamn this live-write took so long but now it’s done. Some sexy threesome with angst and plot at the end. mmmhhh ❤ ❤ dom!lucio/sub!Gabe

Lúcio’s hand slowly strokes across Gabriel’s skull, feeling the spring of the curls on top. He threads his fingers through and tugs, watching the muscles in Gabriel’s neck loosen, his head tilting back minutely.

“You sure you want this?” he asks somewhat reluctant, right hand idly playing with the electric razor. He likes Gabriel’s curls, they make for a good kind of distraction when he needs to move his fingers, but Gabriel has been a good boy recently and it had been his only request yet.

“Do it,” he grunts, finger tapping against his naked thigh, then adds as an afterthought: “Please.”

Lúcio sighs and strokes across his hair one last time before setting to work.

In and of itself, it was… nice. Gabriel was relaxed, sitting naked in the open kitchen, eyes nearly closed in lazy contentment as the electric razor starts to slowly buzz along the shape of his head. In Lúcio’s opinion he looks like a big cat. He kind of wants to put the razor down and cuddle with Gabriel – crawl onto his sub’s lap and bask in this rare gentle mood of his… and maybe reach down between those thick thighs and take his cock in hand; big and heavy and warm even soft as it is now.

He lets his thoughts drift; thinking about how subtly Gabriel had already changed since their first meeting in the club; how his submission was, if not given easily, then at least not accompanied with the near constant surge of self-loathing that seemed to have clung to him for the longest time.

“Keep still, pet,” he murmurs when Gabriel starts sliding down the chair and smirks when the man immediately sits back up, a little more alert, head tilting to try and peek behind at his Master. Lúcio clicks his tongue and taps his shoulder to get him back on track.

It doesn’t take long at all to finish his task. Gabriel is fidgeting minutely, trying and failing not to be annoyed by the shorn hair littering his naked chest and tickling down his back. He does try to stay still, though – just like asked.

“Good boy,” Lúcio purrs, putting the razor away, eyes fixed on the back of his sub’s head. Without the mop of curls on top, Gabriel looks shockingly vulnerable. Lúcio felt like he could get used to this. Gabriel soft and sweet for him…

His hand rubs across the new buzz cut, humming at the nice feeling of the short hair scraping along his palm. Gabriel turns his head into the touch seemingly mindlessly. When Lúcio leans across his shoulder to peer into his face, Gabriel looks already half-way down; mouth soft and open, lips wet, eyes glassy…

“You liked that, pet?” Lúcio asks softly. He slips to the front, squatting down, hands on Gabriel’s knees. Gabriel blinks slowly like it is an effort to do so, then slides his gaze away somewhat stubbornly. He shrugs his shoulders.

Lúcio is not deterred, hands rubbing warm along Gabriel’s calves, feeling the coarse hair on his shins. “You like it when I take care of you, don’t you? You always become such a sweet boy when I take my time to make you pretty for me…”

Gabriel’s mouth falls open, pupils blowing wide. They eat up the lovely brown of his iris; Lúcio would need to lean in close now to see any color at all. The moment of cautious bliss is somewhat dampened by Gabriel’s quick turn-around; eyebrows drawing together, broad shoulders twitching like he wants to pull them up to his ears.

“Why do you want to make me pretty?”

Lúcio is sure he wants to spit out the last word, though it actually comes out a little breathy. Insecure. Lúcio hums, weighing his options.

Truth be told, he couldn’t say he hadn’t thought about how plain difficult life was with this particular man; how much easier it would’ve been with a person with less baggage; someone that played with him just out of the sheer joy of getting to submit – someone who didn’t fight him every step of the way while insulting him just for good measure.

He also thought that Gabriel’s submission, as hard won as it was, was the sweetest of it all – if he managed to coax it out of him, that was.

“Because I like it. You’re my pretty boy.” He leans up now, bracing himself on Gabriel’s thighs and pressing a kiss against his lips. He can feel his goatee tickling against Gabriel’s beard. Acting on a gut feeling – as he was always quick to do – he adds: “And I’d really like to show you off sometime. Show others what a pretty pet I’ve gotten myself.”

His hands curl around Gabriel’s thick wrist, pulling him up into a standing position. The man is quiet and pliant, face blank as Lúcio’s words don’t seem to have registered yet. He can pinpoint the exact moment when they do: Gabriel suddenly halts on the way to the bathroom, a strangely strangled grunt escaping his throat.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” He is careful not to look back. He can picture the look on Gabriel’s face – trying so very hard to be impassive and simultaneously giving away everything. He knows he would backpaddle immediately; assure Gabriel that it had been nothing but empty talk on his part – when in reality he has been thinking about it for quite a while now.

Fantasizing of taking Gabriel with him to one of the clubs and put him on a stage there; all that lovely brown skin on display – showing everybody the gorgeous muscles and how out of it Gabriel could become if just handled right. (How very sensual he was when deep down in his head space; smiling a little and turning dream-like and needy into his dom’s hands…)

He pulls again and Gabriel, thankfully, follows. As they walk, Lúcio starts talking again, keeping his voice light and casual; like he hasn’t been rolling this thing around his head for weeks now, wondering how best to broach the subject (and not dreaming that it would simply slip out like this).

“I would really enjoy showing you off. Stripping you for someone to look at. Play with your body. Let them see what a gorgeous sub I have.”

Gabriel’s breathing is deep and loud behind him. His hand, when Lúcio’s grip slips down to curl around his fingers as they approach the shower, is clammy with sweat.

“I’ve already thought of someone… an… old friend of mine. He’s somewhat of a mentor? Like – he showed me the ropes of how to… uh… do this. Y’know.”

He gestures weakly at nothing in particular, getting frustrated at his own cowardice. When he finally turns around, Gabriel is just staring, eyes large, scarred face drawn tight. He looks downright afraid and Lúcio feels like a heel. He throws him a grin and squeezes his fingers, ushering him into the shower. “Actually… just forget about it, alright? It’s okay. I figured you wouldn’t like it and that’s absolutely okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He grimaces at his own ineptitude. Gabriel says nothing. He steps into the shower, the muscles in his back tense, nothing to be seen of the earlier lassitude from getting his head shorn.

Lúcio sighs and sits down on the closed toilet lid, watching as the other man soaps himself up. When Gabriel suddenly speaks, Lúcio nearly jumps.

“You don’t want to… give me around. Or something.”

His brain needs a moment or two to get over the thought of giving Gabriel around like some kind of party favor – have other people play with his body and put him through his paces… He likes the thought, if he is being honest, but…

“No. Just one person; and he’d not touch you if you don’t want him to.”

Gabriel is quiet a little more but he at least turns around now. Lúcio can’t say for sure but he has the feeling his sub is watching him from beneath wet eyelashes – assessing him in that scarily scrutinizing way he had.

“Just one person?” he ventures at last, hands starting to slow from their rigorous scrubbing of his chest into an almost thoughtful, sensual slide down his muscled belly. Lúcio watches their descent and how they slide into the thick patch of pubes in his groin.

His mouth gets dry as he realizes Gabriel is on his best way to getting hard. God, but he had a gorgeous submissive.

“Just one, babe. I’d be very proud to show you off to him. Let him see how well I’ve trained you already.”

Lúcio feels like he can almost see the flush in Gabriel’s cheeks. He looks almost reluctantly pleased. By now, Lúcio can see the metal glinting on the underside of his cock, and his fingers tingle with the need to play with that lovely dick – maybe get out one of Gabriel’s toys and edge him for a while…

“I’ll… think about it.”

Lúcio blinks rapidly and lifts his gaze, staring at Gabriel as his chest seems to fill with a balloon of fierce, acute affection for this difficult man.

“You got it, babe. And now c’mere so I can dry you off and play with you until you cry for me, hm?”

.oOo.

Lúcio would have loved to have a camera just to take a picture of Gabriel’s face the first time he laid eyes on Reinhardt. He could see the petulant sneer melting off of the man’s face to be replaced by confusion and then something almost… shy.

Lúcio was fascinated.

It wasn’t like Gabriel suddenly went belly-up for them, but his usual taciturn, ill-tempered barbs didn’t have any sting to them. It was like his head wasn’t in the game, eyes strangely soft and vulnerable, sliding towards Reinhardt again and again. Like he couldn’t fathom the sheer mass of the man.

If Lúcio had to take a guess, he’d say Gabriel rarely had gotten to play with doms that were so much bigger than him – if ever.

“You are gorgeous,” Reinhardt is purring now, standing to the side after they migrated into the bedroom, hands folded behind his back as he watches Gabriel slowly unbutton the shirt Lúcio had put out for him earlier. (And how much Gabriel loved it when Lúcio took care of him like that; even if he would never admit it of his own free will). “AAaaahaha,” he sighs, a good natured laugh rumbling through his chest, eyes roaming the exposed skin and zeroing in on the little glints of silver pierced through Gabriel’s nipples. “How exciting! I’ve never had a pet with such pretty jewelry. I am jealous, my friend.”

He slants his one-eyed gaze towards Lúcio, sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking his feet – yet Lúcio is fairly certain he doesn’t miss the way Gabriel ducks his head minimally, shoulders pulling up towards his ears in a surprisingly endearing, bashful gesture. Lúcio could feel himself get breathless even through the broad grin he threw his old mentor.

He’d never gotten to see Gabriel like this before. It was exciting.

“I know. He’s got pretty sensitive tits, too. It’s fun to play with them.”

Gabriel’s head snaps around, staring at Lúcio with an incredulous stare – as if he can’t believe Lúcio would betray him like that. His eyes are soft, though; as soft as his mouth, dropped open a little, face darkening with an embarrassed flush.

“Shit,” he murmurs and returns to the task of unbuttoning his shirt, slowly slipping it off his arms – shoulders pulled up a little higher still. Reinhardt ignores the expletive, eyes intent and kind, his rumbling voice dropping down just a bit more: “Is that so? Do you have sensitive tits, pet?”

Lúcio can see Gabriel’s shoulders flex, his posture getting more stubborn after a moment of him standing frozen, surprised at getting addressed in such a way.

“I guess,” he concedes with a grudging mumble, the tips of his ears burning. Lúcio wants to rub his palm across his shaven head.

“Would you like to show it to me? I would very much like to see…”

Gabriel sucks in a sharp breath, and Reinhardt tilts his head forward, body following the careful angling, hands still behind his back: “Or maybe you would allow me to… test it?”

“No!” Gabriel barks out, sudden and defensive, then back paddles immediately while Lúcio leans forward and hooks his hand into the back of his pants, pulling him towards the bed to sit between his legs. “I mean. I’ll – show you.”

Reinhardt nods jovially, casting a look around for a chair which he finds at Lúcio’s desk.

“That is quite alright. I can barely wait – you are such a pretty pet. I heard Lúcio praise you to high heavens. I’m very pleased that you allowed me to watch in the first place.”

Lúcio can feel Gabriel’s breathing against his chest. It’s fast and shallow – almost panting. His fingers are curled into his pants, eyes fixed unwaveringly on Reinhardt as he seats himself comfortably, his huge form seemingly pronounced by the regular-sized items around him.

Gabriel is absolutely mesmerized by him, and Lúcio has to admit that this playdate has been one of his better ideas.

.o.

“That’s it,” Lúcio mumbles right into Gabriel’s ear, his tongue flicking out to lick along the cartilage because that never failed to make his sub squirm and thrust his chest out for their audience’s viewing pleasure. “Don’t touch them directly,” he orders gently, fingers comfortably weaved together and hands lying on Gabriel’s heaving, hard belly. “Round them some more. That’s it. Why don’t you bump one again? Show Reinhardt how pretty your jewelry glints.”

Gabriel whimpers at that even before he shifts one broad fingertip and nudges gingerly at one end of the barbell piercing. He throws his head back, sweat gleaming on the exposed skin of his scalp, lips pulling back in a silent, needy snarl.

“Have you got your eyes open, babe? Are you watching Reinhardt like we told you to?”

Reinhardt laughs low and rough, leaning forward, elbows coming to rest on his massive thighs. There’s an almost feverish glint in his good eye and Lúcio is stupidly happy about how much his old friend seems to enjoy himself.

“He is. Yes. Like a good boy. You can follow orders well, can’t you? Schätzchen…”

Gabriel groans in the back of his throat, back arching, other hand coming up to lustfully cup both his pecs and squeeze them, his broad palms grinding across the puffy, sensitive mess that are his nipples after playing with them for a while.

“Beautiful,” Reinhardt sighs, leans back, spreads his knees wide and lets both Lúcio and Gabriel see the obscene bulge in his pants.

“Oh God,” Gabriel chokes out, voice high and thin in a way Lúcio has never heard. It almost sounds like a question, lilting up at the end, disbelieving of what he is seeing. He squirms in front of Lúcio, muscles beneath his hands flexing as Gabriel curls his hips and meanly, mindlessly pinches his own nipples between thumbs and forefingers, eyes fixed on their guest.

The sound he makes is nearly comically confused and hurt – like he can’t fathom where the pain is coming from, broad hips shifting. When Lúcio slides his hand down, it doesn’t take long until he bumps into Gabriel’s erection tenting the front of his sweatpants.

Reinhardt laughs, head tilted back, a deep, rumbling sound straight from his very core, it seemed. “Would you look at that! What a little pain slut. How pretty. Hübsches Ding.”

Gabriel shudders, presses back into Lúcio with a force that nearly topples him back onto the bed – against the body mass of his sub, he has no chance, but he presses back as well as he can, trying to give Gabriel enough to lean on.

He sounds so small and vulnerable; the sounds he makes high-pitched and dying as he tugs on his piercings openly now, torments his nipples until they look puffy and positively raw, while his cock keeps wetting through the front of his grey sweats.

“Can he come like this?” Reinhardt asks softly, a little more restraint now, gaze roaming Gabriel’s body. “Just from getting his tits tormented?”

Gabriel lets his head fall back on a groan.

“Oh yes, he certainly can. I tried it almost two weeks straight. He was so desperate the first few times – swore up and down that he was gonna go insane; but he was such a good boy, keeping his hands at his sides, letting me scratch and pinch at his lovely tits until he finally managed to come for me. Fuck…”

Lúcio makes a soft sound, hips rocking into Gabriel’s ass just to relief some of the pressure of his swollen cock. He can still hear Gabriel’s begging: how his voice had cracked, all the vitriol and curses melting away into helpless mewls and shivery enquiries about getting to at least hold his cock; have his big fist around his dick and hug it to his belly as if that would help his predicament any.

Reinhardt looks hungry at that, leaning farther towards them still, a few strands of his gelled back hair dropping into his eyes and making him look a little wild.

Gabriel starts trembling in Lúcio’s arms – a faint vibration throughout his strong body that Lúcio can’t tell whether it stems from anticipation or dread; prey in front of a larger, benevolent predator.

“Were proud of him, weren’t you? Lovely sub coming just from getting his slutty tits played with.” He pauses at that, scrutinizing, watches Gabriel’s reaction and moves on when all he got was a throaty gurgle, Gabriel’s hands twitching at his sides. He sounds husky now, his voice a steady rumble filling the room with ease. “Yes. Lets his Master abuse his tits and comes from it, too. He looked lovely, didn’t he? Come-dumb; messy because he couldn’t hold it any longer. Little whore for his Master’s amusement.”

Lúcio can’t help but bite into Gabriel’s shoulder, hips curling, rocking up more insistently into his sub – dry humping him in a way he hadn’t done yet; always just playing with his submissive’s body, building up to finally fucking that gorgeous, dark space always clinging so beautifully to his fingers.

He feels feverish. Sick in the best way. He had always known that Reinhardt and he meshed well but never realized just how good the older dom really was; riling Lúcio up almost just as much as Gabriel.

He is playing with them both: letting them dance along the tune he’s setting, and Lúcio couldn’t start being mad at him even if he wanted to. His submissive is lapping it up by now, basically eating right out of Reinhardt’s palm as he makes soft, hurt sounds, the fresh stubble on his scalp rubbing against Lúcio’s throat and cheek. He is panting like a dog, loud and almost obnoxious, and Lúcio wants to fucking record it and listen to Gabriel on bad days when he needs a pick-me-up.

He jerked at getting called ‘whore’, gasping, squirming, and Reinhardt pounces immediately on the weakness.

“Is that what you are, Schätzchen? A whore?” He sounds kind as he says it – a little breathless, even. When Lúcio peers over the swell of Gabriel’s shoulder, Reinhardt’s face is flushed a little darker like he imbibed too much.

Gabriel jerks again, gurgles something unintelligible and shakes his head vigorously as he tries to turn away for the first time that evening, trying to hide his face in the crook of Lúcio’s shoulder. His skin feels feverishly hot. It fries Lúcio’s brain cells even though he knows he should be the one keeping a cool head – leading his sub through the experience of getting shared with another dom for the first time.

He mouths mindless and wet against the side of Gabriel’s face as he shudders, keyed up and high on the endorphins coursing through his body. It is by chance that he looks over to Reinhardt – sees the strict line to his mouth, the severe set of his eyebrows.

He halts and Reinhardt tilts his head forward.

“Your submissive is disobeying a rule, Sir.”

Lúcio blinks dumbly, brain sputtering as it first comes up short – difficult to think clearly when his arms are full of his big pet being as soft and needy as he’d rarely seen – before it finally kickstarts once more. The heat is still there; his cock still feeling overstuffed, balls ripe and sensitive, ready to jerk out an orgasm and cream Gabriel’s back like he always denied himself since starting their play… but it is more contained; more a hard, hot ball of need bouncing in his midst instead of an all encompassing wave of heat swamping and drowning him.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he croons, hands gentle but insistent as he starts denying Gabriel the reprieve of hiding himself away, making the weakly struggling man turn back around. “You need to watch our guest, or did you forget already? And he asked you a question. Don’t be rude. You’ve been such a good boy the whole evening, babe.”

“That he has. I bet he already earned himself a few treats for later,” Reinhardt adds, voice gentled down from earlier, gaze kind. Gabriel huffs – tries to growl, and build some of his walls back up – but it comes out like a pathetic sigh and he lets himself get repositioned again; back to his dom’s front, forced to look at Reinhardt, even if he turns his head a little – only glances from the corner of his eyes.

Reinhardt has leaned back again; body language loose and self-assured, one large hand rubbing thoughtfully against his jaw. When he speaks again, he has changed tactics once more, and Lúcio wonders whether this is deliberate rather than accidental: not merely a dom trying to find out what a sub needs but rather actively trying to unseat Gabriel and make him lose balance.

“I bet he would look gorgeous crawling for you,” he says. There’s no smile on his lips, face intent and serious, bushy eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he stares at Gabriel – takes him in, inspects him, imagines him crawling already.

“Little rings instead of those barbells and a silver chain to connect…”

Gabriel’s mouth drops open but no sound comes out. His hands stutter, hesitate, stop where they had been restlessly clawing at the bedding – one of them finally reaching slowly, hesitant like he is not sure whether he finds the thought hot enough to jerk off to, for the hard flex of his cock, pre-cum seeping through the material of his pants, getting them tacky and clingy.

“S-Sir!” he rasps – nothing more; voice wobbly and needy – enough to make Lúcio breathless.

“You’d like that, babe?” he croons with a slightly wobbling voice, and hooks his chin over the swell of Gabriel’s shoulder, watching Gabriel’s big fist clench over his cock, then reaching for it as well, smaller hand across Gabriel’s knuckles, easily taking control over what movements they were doing and how hard they were gripping. His sub was so easy to concede power to his smaller dom. “You wanna crawl for me sometime? Have me lead you around on your gorgeous tits? I could buy you a present, babe… pretty rings and chain just for you. Let me lavish gifts on my obedient pet.”

Gabriel – actually nods. A soft dip of his chin as he keeps squirming but sits like a good boy. Lets them play with him.

When Lúcio glances at Reinhardt, his old mentor looks satisfied; like a cat that got the cream – or more like a lion in his case.

His hands are on his knees, large fingers tapping slowly, idly, the gaze of his good eye roaming Gabriel’s body from the blissed out, soft expression on his scarred face to the glint of steel in his nipples, down to the tent in his sweatpants, cock flexing and pressing against the wet material.

“Will you show me your cock, little sub? Show me all of your body? I bet you can, Schätzchen. You’ve been so good for us the whole evening. Let me see how pretty you are. Your Master wanted to show you off to me, after all. He’s so proud of his gorgeous sub…”

Gabriel obeys mindlessly, movements clumsy, eyelids heavy – and Lúcio can’t even comprehend how much he adores his submissive in that moment.

.o.

Reinhardt isn’t banished from touching any longer.

Gabriel is almost sub-vocal; animalistic in his need as he stands between the bed and the chair and lets his sweatpants fall. He is not shaky on his knees, but all his movements are slow, measured, sluggish – like he has to focus on every motion and think it through before acting on it.

He is almost ridiculously careful when he lifts the elastic band out of the way of his cock to not pinch it, and still it bobs comically in the air, large and so heavy with blood it droops downward against one thick, muscular thigh.

Gabriel stands there, glancing between his dom sitting relaxed on the bed, happy grin on his face, towards their guest, a certain kind of vulnerable longing filling his expression until Reinhardt moves – lifts his hand and beckons him closer with a crook of his fingers.

Gabriel follows it seemingly helpless.

Lúcio unconsciously holds his breath when Reinhardt curls a large, warm hand around one wide hip, then lets it rush out when Gabriel doesn’t react other than sliding closer, letting himself get easily pulled between the lazy spread of the large man’s legs.

“Atemberaubend,” Reinhardt croons at him, looking Gabriel up and down. Lúcio has no idea what he’s saying but the tone of his voice is more telling anyway. It is weird to be watching his pet play with another dom – not at all like he thought this evening would go – but he can’t deny how gratifying the sight of Gabriel easily trusting is. He seems to be far down in his head, putting his hands onto Reinhardt’s broad shoulders without fuss when asked to do so and lets the large, callused hands explore his body further.

Reinhardt, for his part, moves like he has all right to the sub’s body; gentle yet unrelenting, feeling him up, squeezing his thighs and ass until Gabriel has to go up onto the balls of his feet – traces along the valley of his spine and takes his cock in hand to weigh it in his palm and give it a loving squeeze. He patiently listens to the sub whine and gives him a pump from his warm fist just for good measure – just to keep him on edge and wanting – before he lifts the cock farther up and inspects the metal he had glimpsed earlier.

“You are full of surprises, aren’t you.”

Gabriel squirms on the spot, toes curling against the naked floor boards, hips starting to hunch forward, trying to fuck against Reinhardt’s exploring fingers until the dom barks: “Still, now.”

Gabriel gasps, fingers clutching fists full of Reinhardt’s shirt – and Lúcio waits for the backlash; Gabriel’s petulant snarl, the embarrassed tilt to his shoulders when he feels like he got caught doing something illicit… it doesn’t come, though. He lets his head fall forward, watching Reinhardt play with his body, legs trembling like a young colt’s just from the effort of standing still like he got ordered to.

“You are a good boy,” Reinhardt suddenly says, voice pitched so low, Lúcio can barely understand – it is like it’s only meant for the two of them, and he feels bad for listening in… just not enough to stop.

Reinhardt has placed his large hand onto Gabriel’s belly, fingers spread, just pressing his palm against the tight muscles as he looks up at him, the fingers of the other absent mindedly tracing a deep scar on Gabriel’s back. “You are a very good boy – letting me play with you. Letting your Master show you off. He is very happy with you; he tells me so often. You don’t need to fight everything he asks of you – it is okay to feel happy when he praises you, even if it is just the little things.”

Lúcio’s fingers curl into the fabric of his pants, knuckles getting pale as he stares at Gabriel’s broad back. He seems to have stopped breathing, standing totally rigid, hands in fists at his sides.

Reinhardt’s voice drops a bit lower still, and Lúcio has no hope of catching what he is saying now; can only watch the strange jerking motions of Gabriel’s shoulders, and the movement of his head as he shakes it first and then nods it – slower, less assured.

Reinhardt’s fingers stop their ceaseless up-and-down motion along the scar, then he suddenly leans back, voice louder once more, easily filling the room.

“Well then go to your Master, pretty pet. Play with him – and maybe I’ll have a treat for you later.”

He lets one hand fall into the spread of his thighs, gripping himself unabashedly, smile back on his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Gabriel tilts a little drunkenly on his axis as he turns around. His cheeks look strangely blotchy – like his body can’t decide whether it wants to flush or not – and his dark eyes look a little too wet; but when he drops onto his knees and crawls towards Lúcio on all fours, it is hard to focus on much else than the gorgeous creature as a whole – and Lúcio has trouble breathing.

He is mute when he spreads his legs, and lets his sub nudge between his knees. It is not the first time that he had Gabriel suck his cock, but it is the first time that Gabriel was looking so soft and sweet while doing it: face open, pretty brown eyes never leaving Lúcio’s face as he leans down to rub his cheek against the wet head of his cock.

A sticky smear remains when he pulls back to drag his tongue along the length, and Lúcio can’t help but touch it with the tips of his fingers, focusing on Gabriel’s little sound of happiness and how shockingly pink his tongue is. It looks like sweet candy and Lúcio wants to pull him up and kiss him but he doesn’t have the strength to do it: not with Gabriel humming a low sound of appreciation, lips pursing as he suckles on the very tip of the cock he’s playing with, teasing himself just as much with the taste and warmth as he was his dom.

He looks lovely when he finally slides farther down; takes Lúcio in on a steady, smooth glide that has his toes curl and the tips of his fingers prickle. He’s never met anybody that could give head as well as Gabriel could.

“You love cock so much, don’t you?” he murmurs, hand sliding across Gabriel’s scalp, feeling the gratifying rasp of the stubble against his palm. Gabriel goes nearly cross-eyed with bliss, nudging closer still until Lúcio puts one leg across his broad shoulder to accommodate his needy submissive.

Gabriel makes it sloppy and wet, liberally drooling and noisily slurping as he moves his head in slow, self-indulging drags, tongue pressed almost too harshly against the sensitive head, cushioning it as much as it was pushing it up against his hard palate.

“God, baby boy,” Lúcio groans – whines – back arching and fingers spasming against the back of Gabriel’s shorn head, heel digging hard into the ground as he gets pushed to the razor sharp edge of pain and pleasure.

Gabriel is still staring at him, eyes almost vacant, large, warm hands on Lúcio’s thighs, rubbing mindless circles with his thumbs. He is not moving much; mostly suckling in quiet satisfaction, and when Lúcio starts using him – hands framing his face and leading his head to dip in deep, pushing until he is just about to slip down his throat – Gabriel lets him.

“Beautiful,” Reinhardt sighs. He has left his spot on the chair to drift over to them, and lowers himself into a squat next to Gabriel with a low groan and a breathless chuckle when his joints pop loudly. “Gettin’ too old for this,” he murmurs, watching with almost polite interest as Lúcio tilts Gabriel’s head for both their viewing pleasure as he playfully nudges his cock against the inside of Gabriel’s cheek, making it bulge obscenely.

“He’s such an obedient boy.” Reinhardt lifts his hand slowly, and when Gabriel doesn’t react – eyes glassy and still fixed up on his dom’s face – he starts rubbing a big, rough fingertip against the outline of Lúcio’s cock.

Lúcio hisses, grinning sharp and with clenched teeth, eyebrows drawn together as he shifts Gabriel’s head once more, pushing him down and making him gag soft and wet around his cock, throat massaging, little puffs of air ruffling the tight curls at the base of his cock. Just a little more and Gabriel’s nose is pressed against his warm skin, his submissive’s hands no longer moving, just gripping tight and almost bruising as he lets himself get choked, eyes clenched and tears shining at the corners.

“He is,” Lúcio huffs, fingertips spasming against Gabriel’s scalp when he feels his throat squeeze down again, harder this time, Gabriel’s body getting tense the longer he has to stay down without air, getting bracketed on both sides by the doms surrounding him, bearing down on him, keeping him in place and locked down at their mercy…

Lúcio counts under his breath, an easy countdown of five before he abruptly lets Gabriel back up. The submissive wrenches his head back with a large, liquid gulp of air, a thick strand of saliva connecting him still to the flushed head of Lúcio’s cock. His eyes are huge, chest heaving, body shaking… and still he remains kneeling, lets himself get caged in by the patient, iron will of his dom and the huge body of a stranger.

“Pretty boy,” Lúcio coos, chest feeling too small for the bubble of fierce, warm affection filling him, as he leans down and hugs Gabriel’s head to his belly. “My pretty, good boy.”

Gabriel is still huffing and very quiet, but his hips are moving – shimmying left and right, subconsciously seeking friction for his cock which is lying blood filled and heavy in his lap.

Reinhardt watches quietly, a little smirk nearly hidden by his beard. He lets them calm down for a moment before he starts shifting, large hand carefully rubbing warm and soothing along the submissive’s trembling, scarred back.

“I think he earned his treat, now. Come on – up with you.”

Gabriel is almost kitten weak at this point, big, muscled body lax as they pull him up unto the bed and make him stretch out, a soft sound of pain dribbling from him as he straightens his legs out after kneeling for so long.

“Here. Keep your hands where I put them,” Reinhardt tells him, speaking slow and careful so Gabriel will understand through the fog clearly filling his head. He presses them next to his shoulders, squeezing his wrists for good measure to get his point across. Gabriel stares at him with an almost vacant expression before his eyes start roaming again, seeking his dom and settling on Lúcio when he shifts to be within easier reach.

“And your legs… nice and up…” Reinhardt murmurs, arm hooking below Gabriel’s knees, pushing them up until his lovely ass is exposed, testicles peeking out large and dark between the thick muscles of his thighs.

When he starts squirming, Lúcio shushes him, one hand reaching for Gabriel’s pierced cock and curling around it – not moving, just holding on to give him something to fixate on.

“Let us reward you,” he croons, and when Gabriel calms down again; looks, in fact, eager when he sees Reinhardt fish out the bottle of lube, large, thick cock pulsing warm and needy in his palm, he has to think again about how much he wants to capture these moments. Take pictures of his slutty, trusting sub – film him and how gorgeously he submits, so he can show him later and make him appreciate how obedient he is for his dom…

He gets distracted by Gabriel groaning and squirming again, though this time downwards, trying to get more of the wide fingertip pressing their way inside, and… fuck if that wasn’t a gorgeous sight.

.o.

Gabriel is needy for kisses, and Lúcio tries to accommodate him as often as possible, but the sight of Reinhardt fucking him on his thick fingers is too mesmerizing to ignore for long. He’s been allowed to stretch one leg back out, the other one hooked over Reinhardt’s shoulder, giving him access to the sweet, little muscle currently clenching around just two of his fingers.

They look obscene, stretching him open, thick knuckles pressing against the rim and forcing it to open up for more, deeper, wider. Gabriel’s hands were curled into sweaty fists at his ears, his chest jumping with panting breaths as Reinhardt pushes in deeper, a low rumble of satisfaction rolling from him like thunder.

“You are so very soft inside,” he comments, his other fist curled around his cock, slowly pumping himself to relieve some of the almost painful tension. Lúcio tried to imagine the wide, dusky head pressing into Gabriel’s body, and failed. He wonders whether Gabriel could take him. Whether he would take him if Lúcio asked him; trying so hard to work himself onto the obscene dick, let his little cunt get spread beyond repair…

“So very soft and warm. Pretty little hole so perfect to cushion cocks, hm? You were built for it, weren’t you?”

Gabriel makes a small sound of confirmation even as he slants his eyes away and to the side, not able to look at either of them as he carefully curls his hips, fucking down against the broad fingers fucking him, his cock lying warm and heavy across his clenching abdomen.

“I bet your dominant loves to fuck that sweet little space. You keep him so warm and snug inside your body, don’t you?”

His voice is almost just a meaningless rumble, pitched so low Gabriel mindlessly nods along, mouth wet and open, eyes fixed on the large cock in the big fist – how the head glistens with pre-cum.

“He’s not had the privilege yet,” Lúcio interjects, a little smirk curling the corners of his mouth. He feels like a king, watching his pet get fucked and sampled by another; how Gabriel shows his best side off. “We’re still working on it.”

“I see.” Reinhardt turns his head and presses a tickling kiss against the outside of Gabriel’s knee, his fingers pushing in a little deeper still until Gabriel’s mouth opens wide in a cry that has first a false start, then stutters out of him broken and pathetic at the feeling of two broad fingertips rubbing up against his prostate for the first time.

“I bet your Master will have a treat for you these coming days. You’ve been so good, little submissive.”

Gabriel angles his head back, pressing it into the cushion, eyes clenched shut as he tries to ride out the waves of clenching, warm pleasure rolling through him, his hips jerking against the unrelenting pressure located somewhere deep in his pelvis.

Reinhardt glances towards Lúcio and they throw each other knowing, feral grins.

.o.

Gabriel’s hands are still curled at his shoulders – sweet little kitten paws that he hasn’t dared taking down since Reinhardt had put them there with his own large hands, warm and insistent as he’d pressed them to their place.

He’s not looking at them – he’s not looking at anything in particular, just coasting on the feeling of his release and the warmth sloshing through his body like a wave, muscles shivery and twitching as they slowly relax from their cramp.

Lúcio watches as his sub’s wide hips curl into the air slowly, sluggishly, as if he was still fucking – as if his body hadn’t registered yet that everything was done; those shockingly large fingers no longer fucking him and spreading his poor rim apart.

His cock looks delectable, lying in the mess he made on his belly, still thick and chubby, inviting for a mouth to lick him until he cried of over sensitivity.

Reinhardt is breathing carefully deep where he crouches next to the bed. Lúcio wonders whether he could actually go again. The thought of watching his old mentor jerk off across Gabriel’s face once more makes his heart pound an almost painfully fast tattoo against his ribs.

Seeing Gabriel blissed out and turning his face into the thick ribbons of cum splashing against his cheeks… Seeing him trying to lap it all up, not caring about looking silly as he stuck his tongue far out,restricted by nothing but his Master’s firm voice…

…it had been nice. Very nice. Fuck, but he wanted to see this more often: His pet playing with other doms, showing them what a good boy he was, letting them jerk off on him and thanking them with the same breathy voice he’d thanked Reinhardt with earlier. It had went straight to Lúcio’s core, feeding that place that told him to squirrel Gabriel away and keep him safe…

“Are you feeling well, babe?” he croons, head still hot and feeling like it is filled with cotton, cock pressing insistently into his sub’s thick thigh as he stretches out next to him and lays an unrestricting, possessive hand across his throat. “You looked gorgeous right now.”

He rasps it right into Gabriel’s ear, feels how his submissive is warm and pliant, making soft, high pitched noises like a little animal, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the palm of Lúcio’s hand.

“Maybe Reinhardt can come again… I bet he could if you were very nice to him. Wouldn’t you like that? Play with his big, fat cock some more?”

Gabriel groans, low and wrecked, a drawn-out sound that Lúcio couldn’t even hope to interpret. He turns his head, trying to hide his sticky face against Lúcio’s shoulder, obviously loathe to admit that he would very much like that. Reinhardt only laughs, rumbling and tired – but not denying Lúcio’s proposition, he notices with a spike of excitement.

Maybe his sub needs a little more encouragement…? Help him shake off the lethargy, even though he has to be so very tired now, lovely body stretched out for them to do as they please. He presses a kiss against Gabriel’s temple, feeling the scratch of his shorn scalp against his cheek and whispers with a low rasp: “I could record you playing with him, pretty boy… So we’ll have something for later, and you can see how you-”

His reaction time is sluggish. Maybe he would have been able to dodge had he not been so fixated on his own, throbbing dick – had he, in fact, had even an inkling that what he had said was upsetting to Gabriel.

As it is, he didn’t.

All that registers is the sudden angry pounding on the side of his head, ear ringing with the blow he had received. There is a commotion and loud voices and it takes Lúcio surprisingly long to realize he was staring at the ceiling, knocked flat after receiving a sharp elbow to the temple.

The throbbing is so sharp and angry, he wonders whether he’s bleeding, hand uncoordinated as he pats the side of his face, trembling fingers nearly pushing into his eye before he manages to lay them at his temple.

There is no blood on them, but he can already feel a swelling starting up. He blinks slowly, then registers how quiet it had become all of a sudden, and that more than anything finally jerks him out of the confused stupor and makes him sit up abruptly, nearly knocking heads with a concerned Reinhardt.

“Are you well?” He is holding a towel and when he presses it to the side of Lúcio’s face, he realizes that it is wrapped around an ice pack.

Lúcio hisses and squeezes his eye shut on that side – before stopping that as well because every twitch of his facial muscles seems to hurt. He stares mutely at Reinhardt, then looks around the room, gaze settling finally on Gabriel sitting on the chair Reinhardt had vacated earlier, slumped forward, elbows braced on his thighs.

He was still naked, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Yeah. Oh man… What the heck…?” He gingerly takes the towel out of Reinhardt’s hand and presses it against the throbbing himself. It already starts to calm down, and the roiling in his stomach is settling. Reinhardt is keeping a close eye on him as he shimmies his way to the edge of the bed but relaxes when he gets on his feet without wobbling.

“What happened?” he asks the room at large, though his eyes are on Gabriel. He isn’t looking at either of them and, as if feeling his dominant’s gaze on him, lets his head sag even further down. He is shaking, Lúcio registers now.

He feels a little numb, confused about how things could’ve changed so quickly from the warm, post-coital cuddling to… this.

“Gabriel?”

He steps closer and carefully leans down to catch his submissive’s face – wincing as the blood surges into his head at the new elevation – and frowns when Gabriel immediately turns away with a gruff grunt, shoulder curling up to shield himself even more.

“What happened? Did I scare you or something? I mean…”

He reaches a hand out for Gabriel’s shoulder and sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how cold he is; the sweat coating him out of nervous fright, he realizes now.

“Damn. Come on, you’re ice cold, you’re going to get sick. Reinhardt, help me.”

Reinhardt hums and nods, quietly assisting as they start putting a vaguely resisting Gabriel into a hoodie and sweats.

The sub is shaking so subtly he’s nearly vibrating, breath coming in uneven little gulps of air until Lúcio wonders whether he is crying – but when he dips his head and catches a glimpse of his face, he’s just staring down onto the ground, bottom lip caught between his teeth, face worryingly pale beneath his dark skin.

“Do you want to shower?” he asks him slowly. Gabriel jerks a small glance at him. His pupils are small as pinpricks. He looks ready to bolt and Lúcio feels sick to his stomach. He’s never seen Gabriel like this. Angry and stubborn and spitting mad, yeah – but not as quietly afraid as he was now, standing rigid between the two doms and getting a little green around the nose as if –

He bolts, suddenly, running straight for the bathroom, and just a moment later they can hear him retching.

Lúcio stands helplessly, eyes seeking out his old mentor while his temple is still throbbing distractingly.

“What happened?”

Reinhardt stares at the half-open bathroom door and lifts both shoulders in a small shrug.

“War flashbacks, I’d say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Reinhardt turns his head so he can peer at him with his good eye, bushy brows raised in surprise.

“Are you sure you don’t understand?”

Lúcio slings his arms around his chest, slowly rubbing palms up and down his upper arms. He stares almost moodily into Reinhardt’s face before he feels the angry denial melting away, and his shoulders sag a little.

“He… he never told me anything. I didn’t want to – I didn’t want to make him afraid of me. Holy shit, have you seen his face? He hates me.”

His voice is breaking a little and he is annoyed at his own childishness. Reinhardt huffs and places a large hand on his shoulder to give him a friendly squeeze.

“You know that’s not it. And we all know you didn’t do it on purpose. I just…”

His gaze slides away and back towards the door. There’s still the occasional retching to be heard; mostly there’s ominous quiet coming out of the bathroom, though. Reinhardt’s face looks tense. Strangely pensive.

“Can I leave you two alone? I want to… look something up. It’s just that something has been nagging me since I’ve seen him and I want to check it out. Will you be okay without me? I don’t think he will become violent again.”

Lúcio bites the tip of his tongue to stifle the question but it bubbles out anyway.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

Reinhardt smirks at him and pats his back.

“I taught you better than that.”

Yeah… he did.

.o.

Gabriel was still cowering in front of the toilet, his hood up, though if his position was any indication, he was lying his head on the toilet seat and simply staring ahead of himself.

Lúcio let the door softly bang against the wall as he pushed it open, and when Gabriel doesn’t react – and screams at him to get the fuck out – he lets out the breath he had been holding, stomach unclenching from the tight, painful fist it had been in.

“Hey. You feeling better?” he asks softly, crouching down behind his sub, hand rubbing warm and soothing along the broad back. He had at least stopped shaking, even if he wasn’t turning into the touch like he usually would.

“Guess so.”

He sounds petulant, and Lúcio has to smile a bit – only with one side of his mouth so it didn’t put another strain on what was by now a sizeable bump. He carefully lets himself down next to the toilet, leaning against the cool wall. It feels good; helps him to calm down and ground himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Lúcio plays with the hem of Gabriel’s hoodie, quietly nodding along even though Gabriel could not see him.

“You have an insane left hook. All that training you’re doing is paying off. Maybe you can teach me some day? So I can at least defend me and my skinny ass.”

Gabriel hums low, non-committal. He leans up, sitting a little straighter, though he has his head still curled away, not letting Lúcio get a glimpse of his face.

“I’m sorry. For hitting you.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for making you upset.”

Gabriel flinches at that, fingers drumming restlessly against the toilet lid.

“Do you… want me to go?”

“No. I want you to come closer.”

He lifts the hem he’s been playing with and tugs gently, gratified when Gabriel moves and comes closer, a soft sigh escaping him as he tucks his big body against Lúcio’s side; makes himself small and lays his head against his dom’s chest.

Lúcio slowly rubs a hand up and down his arm, thoughts running in circles, foot bouncing along a rhythm that suddenly sprang up in his mind. Gabriel is carefully quiet against him.

“I didn’t want to upset you. I’m very sorry about that,” Lúcio says at last, his hand stopping and just lying curled around Gabriel’s impressive bicep. “I can understand that you don’t want to talk about it, but…”

“Don’t say it,” Gabriel suddenly whispers, his voice high and child-like, shivering like a thin cord that got plucked too hard. “Please.”

Lúcio plowed on, fingers digging in deeper when Gabriel tried to pull himself away: “I love you and I want to understand. You’ll have to tell me one day, if you want to keep this… us… running. This is not meant to be an ultimatum, just… this’ll not work in the long run. What happened to you is just… it’s standing there and I can’t get around it or into it without you helping me. It’s – You’re just… blocking me out, dude.”

Gabriel has ducked his head lower with his first words and Lúcio can feel how he even stopped breathing for the moment. A couple minutes crawl by before Gabriel says slowly, slurring a little as if drunk: “I don’t need to… now… right?”

“‘Course not. Take all the time you need. Doesn’t have to be now or even today or even this week, but…”

He feels a little jumpy and shivery himself now, a live wire buzzing beneath his skin, the tips of his ears burning. He’s never told Gabriel how he feels about him and now it was just kind of hanging in the room awkwardly.

Gabriel doesn’t say more, just pulls his knees up, balls himself into a small ball. It takes a while until Lúcio feels the soft way his shoulders bounce every now and then, and takes him even longer to realize Gabriel is quietly crying, not making a sound.

He feels horrible.