omertae | Open post.

A pause as Angelo tips his head back, staring at the ceiling for a minute, and then he says, "Yeah. What's your point? You gonna make a point?" He lifts a hand to find a spot near Alastor's ribs and pinch the thin skin between his index finger and thumb, which is about as playful as he gets. "Make your point, I'm listening."

"My point is," Alastor murmurs, twisting a little without quite lifting his lips away from Angelo's skin, "you don't have to be so reluctant to admit you like having me around."

"I'm not reluctant," Angelo says, almost indignantly, setting his hand flat on Alastor's ribcage for a second and then letting his arm thump against the mattress. "I've admitted it. Multiple times."

He lifts his head, hovering above Angelo with both hands braced on either side of him, looking politely confused as he considers it. "Guess I must have missed the times before you actually had your dick all the way in my ass."

"All the way, huh?" Angelo asks, cracking a little smile. "What's the matter with you, anyway, you feeling underappreciated at the office?"

"No, Angel. I know exactly how much you appreciate me." Alastor leans down again, and presses another kiss to the center of Angelo's chest, and a few more after it, moving incrementally lower. "Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"What is it, then?" Angelo asks, pushing up onto his elbows to watch him. "You want to hear me say it more?"

Alastor pauses, and glances up with a little smirk at the corner of his mouth. "For somebody who complains that I talk too much, you're sure asking me a lot of questions."

Angelo makes a dismissive noise at the back of his throat. "You talk about one specific thing too much. Otherwise I like asking you questions, you usually have good answers. Except," he clicks his tongue, "for right now."

"Mmmm." He hums with his mouth coming down on Angelo's ribs, counting them out on one side with little kisses, his hands on slim hips. "Maybe I feel under-utilized. But I'm not allowed to talk about that. You want me to beg you for more attention instead? Like I don't take it, every chance I get?"

"Not allowed?" Angelo repeats, already brushing everything else out of his head. "Who's not allowing you?"

"You, obviously." Alastor nips him, and looks up again with a raised eyebrow and a playful grin. "Like I'd take orders from anyone else."

Angelo stares at him for a moment, his jaw working as he chews the inside of his cheek. "If someone else wanted that from you," he mumbles, "would you take it?"

For a second, Alastor goes still, with a look of confusion on his face until he realized that Angelo really is asking him that, at which point the look promptly becomes something else — ravenous, and fierce. It might be briefly visible that there are several things he could say in response to that, but all that finally comes out is, “No. I don’t make offers to just anyone, Angel.”

Angelo's gaze locks on Alastor. He doesn't move an inch, but he thinks very, very hard, hard enough for Alastor to feel it, about running just one finger up his spine with a touch light enough to feel like little more than a droplet of water going the wrong way, almost tickling. He thinks harder still about his hand stopping at the base of Alastor's neck, fingers sliding into his hair and making a fist, yanking back, wondering if he'll actually move with the feeling or not. "I like turning you down."

Maybe his veil is a little thinner in that moment, because he snarls as his hair is pulled before he remembers that he's supposed to play tame; it takes him a second to release tension, along with a deep sigh. Once again, his eyes are too bright for the single lamp illuminating him. "If you think that's gonna discourage me, you're the one who's on track to be disappointed."

"You must think I'm so weak," Angelo mutters. "You can't take no for an answer from me and you just keep asking. You must think I'll break."

"I don't think you're weak." There's an undertone of vehemence in Alastor's voice that isn't betrayed by how soft he keeps it now, his gaze fixed on Angelo. "I just think you don't understand yet. But you will. When you're ready. I'll be here."

Angelo watches him with his lips quirked up softly, like Alastor's just telling jokes to amuse him, and then he shifts to sit up properly, nudging Alastor away a little so he can lean over and poke around in his nightstand for a cigarette. He finds one in a mostly-empty pack and holds it between his teeth, looking back at Alastor expectantly, because there's no lighter to match. "Have you had one before?" he asks. "A little pet?"

Alastor looks at him steadily, inscrutable for a moment or two, and then blows out a soft gust of air toward the cigarette. The embers catch and the tip glows, like he'd held it to a lighter. Then he stretches out on his side, propping his head up on one arm. "Is that what it sounds like to you? A pet?"

Angelo leans over for an ashtray to put on the bed between them and then eases down onto his back again, a puff of smoke rolling out of his mouth. "If I was you that's how I'd think of it."

He sighs, letting Angelo hear the disappointment in it, tilting back a little to look up at the ceiling without rolling all the way back. He likes being able to see Angelo, like this. "If I wanted something to sit at my heels and purr, I'd get a better cat than yours."

He panics, just for a second, before he remembers that his mother has been looking after Gabbana while he's been away, and he's due to pick him up tomorrow. He throws a look at Alastor sidelong, partially resentful for reminding him that Gabbana isn't here, and partially because of that backhanded insult. "You didn't answer my question."

Alastor sighs again, this time like he's being massively inconvenienced by this interrogation. He rolls over onto his stomach, folding his arms under his chin. "I've been summoned to service more times than I could ever count. And sometimes I offer it, before being asked. Like I've done with your family. But I've never offered anyone what I'm offering to you. You're different."

"Why?" Angelo asks bluntly, without looking at him. "Because we fuck? That's a shitty reason."

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reader, he's lying

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