Commissioned by a very lovely person that wants to remain anonymous 🙂 Lùcio getting his kink on with an ftm stranger right there in the disco.

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Overwatch was a good thing that Lúcio liked and was very proud to be a part of no matter what the authorities liked to drill into the mind of the public. Nevertheless, being cooped up with so many colorful personalities was taxing even for someone as easy-going as him, so getting out of base and throwing himself into the fray of anonymous people was something he regarded as a necessity every once in awhile.

There was a club downtown he liked to frequent for just these occasions when his partners in crime were starting to get on his usually ludicrously durable nerves, and tonight he could feel the need thrumming through his veins even sharper than usual.

He stumbled across Lena on his way out. She looked like she was about to say something – but her mouth snapped shut without a word and, after a scrutinizing once-over, she patted him on the shoulder and stepped aside. Maybe she could see the dull hunger in his eyes, or the way his grin was a little too broad, making him look almost predatory. Whatever it was: she mumbled something that sounded like ‘good luck’ and stepped back inside her room, leaving him to start his easy skate towards the club.

Inside, he felt like he was diving right into a warm sphere of companionship. The air was humid and a little thick. He could feel it tickle across his arms with every motion as if he was wading through a physical object. It was not an unwelcome sensation. His eyes scanned the crowd moving and bobbing with the bounce of the music, not looking for anyone in particular but just taking everything in and letting it wash through him as he moved closer and started to bounce on the balls of his feet in rhythm, body warming up and getting read to-

Lùcio’s gaze gets caught on movement to the side; strange, since everybody was in motion, but… there it was. His attention caught by a man close to one of the two pillars in the room, dancing with his eyes half closed and face sweaty in exertion.

His body was moving sinuously to the music; motions strangely abrupt and energetic as he took the hard beat and gave it out again as if letting it bounce right back. His face looked… Lùcio couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He needed to get closer to identify it properly – but if he was being honest, he was just plain intrigued by the young man’s movements.

He wondered dimly how the stranger would look dancing to Lùcio’s healing rhythm as he pushed his way through the dancers and towards his target. It was easy to slot himself in behind him; the faint scent of clean sweat tickling his nose as he leaned in and settled his fingers lightly on the stranger’s hips.

Lùcio anticipated the reaction for a heartbeat, ready to pull back… then stood his ground more firmly when the stranger tilted his head and peeked over his shoulder, face calm, eyes glinting in hazy exhaustion.

Lùcio’s lips parted and he stared back in dumb amazement as he got a lazy once-over, and a crooked little grin before the stranger turned back, hips twitching in Lùcio’s grip – and grinding backwards into the cup of his pelvis.

“Uff,” he hissed, gloved fingers curling around the stranger’s hipbones. He could feel muscles shifting and moving as the man danced like Lùcio hadn’t pressed himself to his back. “Hey there,” he sighed right into his ear, one of his thick braids falling forward and spilling across the stranger’s shoulder.

Without missing a beat, the dancer lifts one hand and curls it around the thick strand of hair. He tugs – playful at first, then more firmly as he smoothly guides Lùcio around like a dog on a leash.

“Hey there,” he grins right back. There’s sweat gathering on the tip of his chin and on the soft space beneath, and Lùcio wants to lick it off. He wants to do a lot to the stranger, if he were honest. He is still dancing – moving against Lùcio in the same abrupt, powerful motions that had piqued his interest in the first place.

“Want to have fun?” the stranger growls. Lùcio can just stare at the inviting mouth. He wonders how much fun the stranger is talking about. He feels a knee slip between his thighs, and the hard surface of the pillar in his back as he gets pressed against it.

Ah. That much fun.

“You’re my savior,” Lùcio laughs, happy and excited; hot need curling in his body as he puts his hands onto the stranger’s hips once more, and lets his fingers wander; slipping beneath the tight tank top the dancer was wearing, fingers scratching through the coarse treasure trail he encounters. He tugs on the hair and presses a curious finger against the sweat-slick navel, watching as the stranger’s face flushes and his eyes become heavy lidded.

“Oh… it’s like that, isn’t it?” Lùcio tilts his head forward until their foreheads are pressed together. He notices absent-mindedly that they’re of the same height and it thrills him. “You like it in public?”

The stranger’s mouth forms a wordless swear. He gets his arms up, plants his hands next to Lùcio’s head against the pillar to give Lùcio room to roam and groans “Yesss.”

Lùcio’s abdomen clenches in need at the admission. He’s sliding one hand up into the tanktop to rub across a warm belly. The other pushes up farther on top of the fabric to cup and squeeze one pec because there are hard, small nipples pressing prominently against their confines and he wants to make their acquaintance. The stranger groans.

He almost forgot about the cheeky knee that had surprised him earlier right up until the point when a firm thigh presses into his crotch and lets him ride the dancer’s leg.

“You’re shameless,” Lùcio whispers roughly, fingers trailing circles around the stranger’s nipples in tighter and tighter rounds until he can pinch the little nub. The man reacts with a low groan, body perfectly still other than the slow swivel and grind of his hips against Lucio’s own thigh.

“Yeah,” he’s rasping, chest barely moving with breaths as if he wants to prevent Lúcio from moving his hand from his chest, “t-talk to me.”

He seems nervous and embarrassed by his own demand; it was the first time in their little encounter that he seemed anything else than brazenly confident, and Lúcio can feel a shiver of affection slide down his spine. They don’t even know each other’s name; grinding dirty in midst of the pounding music and moving bodies.

“No need to be afraid,” he purrs, hand from beneath the stranger’s top sliding down and toying with the loose waistband of his baggy pants. He doesn’t let his fingers slip in yet; instead teasing both of them by tugging on the fabric and dragging it down until it threatens to slip down the slope of the stranger’s ass, thumb rubbing idly along the tight elastic of his underwear. “I know exactly what a little slut like you needs.”

The lights are constantly moving above them, different colors flickering across the stranger’s face but not able to hide the way he flushes, or how his pupils blow wide in excitement.

Lùcio can’t believe his luck.

He grabs a hold of the stranger’s jaw, holding him firm and not letting him look away as he lets his fingers slide into his underwear – first encountering tight, humid curls, and then, as he travels deeper…

The slick slit of the dancer’s cunt. Lùcio hesitates for a second, surprise making him tilt his head back a tad so he can study the flushed, sweaty face of the man as his fingertips move; spreading his labia and dragging across the silky, hard flesh of his clit.

“Look at you,” he mumbles, fingers digging into the dancer’s jaw harder, dragging him closer as he circles his slick, little cock slow and sensual; at odds with the lively, hard music around them. He can feel him groan against his lips, deep and guttural and seemingly coming right out of his chest. “So fucking hot for me. Little slut grinding against my fingers right here in the open…”

“Yes, yes, please,” the stranger begs, low and needy, hips stuttering as he tries to grind against Lùcio’s fingers. His body is hot and hard, pressing against Lùcio’s front and pinning him to the pillar holding both of them up.

Lùcio can smell aftershave and sweat in the crook of his neck when he presses his nose just beneath his ear. His hand is awkwardly pressed between their bodies but he can’t make himself pull back. The stranger’s cunt is slick and hot, everything soft and ready for his exploring fingers. When Lùcio carefully pinches his clit, he groans and jerks against him in one hard, needy wave.

“Are you going to ride my hand here in the open?” Lùcio is talking right into his ear now, the tips of his fingers circling around the stranger’s entrance again and again. “There are people all around. Two are looking right at your back. They’re wondering what we’re doing. They can’t see that I’m fingering your slutty cunt right now. They have no idea that you’re a nasty little whore that gets off on getting fucked in public.”

He hesitates, dipping the tip of one finger into the warm, accepting opening, and listens hard to the stranger’s reaction. He is breathing with deep, heaving sighs, hips moving in little, liquid thrusts that help him fuck against the innocent little fingertip Lùcio has given him. It’s more than encouraging.

“Don’t even know my name and already you’re offering me up everything on a silver platter,” Lùcio whispers. He drags his fingers up the little, soft slit and starts stroking across his silky cock again. “Would you come?” He licks his lips and swallows hard. His cock is a hard, hot band along the crease of his thigh. He feels sweaty and sticky, even though he hasn’t even gotten to dance. “Would you come for me? Right here in the open?”

The stranger shivers in his arms. He is fucking against Lùcio’s fingers and his mouth is wet and uncoordinated against the slope of Lùcio’s shoulder. He can feel the edge of the dancer’s sharp teeth drag across his skin, making him close his eyes and roll his own hips for once just to alleviate the pressure in his pounding cock a little.

“Yes,” the stranger growls. His hands slide down from the pillar and clasp Lùcio’s naked shoulders, fingers digging into his skin. “Gonna come for you. Right here. Are they still watching?”

Lùcio drags his eyes open with difficulty, trying and almost failing to focus on the undulating waves of people around them. He grunts in the affirmative, words failing him.

“Fuck,” the dancer in his arms whimpers. Lùcio can feel his thighs shiver. “Okay… okay, c’mon. Turn your hand. I need… I…”

Lùcio does turn his hand. He drags his thumb across the tight, humid curls of the stranger’s pubes and lets him ride the edge of his hand with sharp, short jerks of his hips that remind Lùcio of the way he danced earlier. Powerful, desperate, gorgeous.

There is no denying what they’re doing anymore. The stranger’s movements are too obvious; too sexual to be a mere dance any longer. Lùcio has one arm around his lower back and is supporting him in his endeavors, his cock pounding a steady, sympathizing rhythm as the stranger drags the drenched little slit of his cunt along Lùcio’s hand.

“They know what you’re doing,” Lùcio hums right into his ear. “They know you’re a cheap three dollar whore; getting your rocks off right here in midst of all those people. They know, and they like it. Their eyes are so glazed…”

The stranger is whimpering – honest to god whimpering and pressing his face into the crook of Lùcio’s neck. He can feel the dancer’s belly muscles clench through both their thin, tight shirts, and he really wants to push it off of him so he can get at his skin; drag his nose against the scars beneath his pecs and bite at those little, diamond hard nipples he’s been feeling earlier.

The thrusts against his hand are out of rhythm and sloppy. The thought of the stranger coming like this makes him curl his own hips into his thrusts. He imagines they’re fucking. His cock slipping into that warm, welcoming space as the stranger holds him down with his strong hands; maybe fondles his own cock as they grind together…

“Fuck! Please,” the dancer suddenly groans, gruff and low. He’s standing on his tip toes, body shivering and poised for the climax he seemed unable to reach on his own.

“I got ya,” Lùcio rasped back, hand moving and twisting, the other one seizing the stranger’s jaw yet again so he can see his face when he plunges two fingers in sudden and deep; making him accommodate their breadth and length, curled against spongy, soft walls.

The man’s face is fascinating as he comes; silent and almost shy, mouth dropping open and hips shivering against Lùcio’s hand, trying to hold still just as much as he tries to fuck himself on those fingers.

His pupils pull together into little pinpricks before they blow wide, sweaty face flushing a dark shade of red that Lùcio wants to lick from his cheeks.

When he finally stops clenching and twitching around Lùcio’s fingers, he gingerly pulls his cramping hand out of the stranger’s baggy pants (though not without a parting, loving pet to that silky, little cock he fell a little in love with).

He lifts it up between their panting, flushed faces, both of them staring numbly at the slick coating his fingers; the wetness along the edge of his hand.

The stranger looks mortified and turned on – it is an endearing spectacle to witness, to be honest.

“Hey,” Lùcio murmurs. He can feel his own grin uncertain and trembling on the corners of his mouth, “Do you… uh… can I get you something to drink?”

The stranger looks for a second as if he’d rather die, before he slowly straightens himself and clears his throat, hands patting nervously across Lùcio’s shoulders where the indents of fingernails start burning.

In the end, he nods and smirks at Lùcio.