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“Ah, Lovi,” Antonio begins cautiously one hot day in June, as they’re sitting on Antonio’s veranda overlooking the countryside. It’s been a long day. Lovino’s been there since the morning, and despite Antonio’s attempts to make his visit great, Lovino is being his typical self. He hasn’t even kissed Antonio since they were first reunited, which Antonio thinks is far too long to go without kissing Lovino.
Lovino looks up from where he’s been running his lips over the lip of his bottle of water for some time now. He scowls at Antonio, as if he’s interrupted something very important. He lifts his mouth—his lips, his tongue—away from the bottle and gives Antonio a withering look.
“What?” he asks, because Antonio hasn’t finished whatever it is he was about to say. It’s not Antonio’s fault, he thinks. He got distracted. (He is distracted.)
“Um,” Antonio says. Intelligently so, too.
Lovino scowls. “Don’t just say my name if you have nothing else to say, bastard.”
He looks away and lifts the bottle to his mouth again. There’s a slight sheen of sweat over his forehead and he takes a long drink from the bottle. He doesn’t pull it away completely from his mouth. Instead, he lingers, letting his lips press against the opening, his lips pillowing over the lip of the bottle, his tongue tracing up any stray moisture that’d escaped from inside.
Antonio stares because, really, what else is he going to do?
“It’s hot,” Lovino mutters, to himself, as he sets the bottle down and rolls up the sleeves to his tailor-made shirt. It’s clinging to him in all the right places, Antonio thinks, and in general Lovino is looking very nice today. Even on casual days, Lovino has to make himself presentable (“Because like hell I’m going to let myself look like a slob. I’m not you.”), and the trousers are hugging his hips in a way that Antonio certainly does appreciate.
Sleeves rolled up, Lovino rests his chin on his hand and stares out over the landscape, taking in the sights. A mercifully cool breeze brushes against their faces, and Lovino’s eyes lower to half-mast as he loses himself in his thoughts again.
Antonio is too busy staring at Lovino to take in much of the sights—and he’s seen it all before, anyway—and he’s instead mesmerized by a bead of sweat that rolls down the side of Lovino’s face before he wipes it away with his thumb. His fingers tap against his mouth, and Antonio continues to watch him.
Eventually, Lovino shifts his gaze and finds Antonio staring. He frowns. “What?”
“Ah,” Antonio says, and then grins with a laugh. “I was just thinking that you look really handsome today, Lovi.”
Lovino looks surprised for a moment, blinking his eyes and sitting up a bit straighter. And his face seems a little red, though it’s possible it was just from the heat. “What the hell,” Lovino says after a moment, sounding mystified by how stupid Antonio could sound sometimes, “What, are you saying I don’t look nice normally?”
“Huh?” Antonio asks, confused.
“Never mind,” Lovino mutters and shakes his head. He looks back out towards the sprawl of countryside, seemingly determined not to indulge Antonio in anything.
But he’s pressing his lips against his fingers, a thoughtful expression, and Antonio shifts, crossing his leg over the other and squirming. He watches the way Lovino swallows, eyes hooded, lips pursed one moment, and then just slightly parted the next, as if to take a finger into his mouth. He watches Lovino breathe, and shifts again.
“It’s really hot today!” Antonio declares, loudly.
“No shit,” Lovino snaps back. “Shut up if all you’re going to say is asinine things.”
He reaches out and takes another drink, and it’s too much for Antonio. He lets out the smallest of groans.
Lovino hears it, though. He stares at him, incredulous, bottle poised and ready for him to drink.
“What the fuck was that?” he asks.
“Huh?” Antonio asks, pleasant.
Lovino’s expression darkens. “Did you eat too much, idiot? Do you feel sick?”
Antonio shakes his head. “No, I’m fine.”
Lovino does not look convinced, but probably because Antonio is just grinning at him desperately. He shifts and crosses his legs the other way. Lovino’s eyebrows slant downwards as he watches Antonio squirm. And then something seems to dawn on him, because after a moment, his eyes seem to light up and he smirks. But it’s just the slightest moment before it’s gone, and he’s scowling again.
“You horny bastard,” Lovino says, but it doesn’t sound as malicious as it normally could.
Antonio laughs. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to Boss, Lovi.”
Lovino rolls his eyes and stands up, suddenly, kicking his chair back as he strolls his way around the table and goes to stand in front of Antonio. He’s standing in the way that just shows he’s reveling in hidden smugness. He puts one hand on his hip, popped slightly to the side, and looks down his nose at Antonio. Antonio continues to smile up at him, because he knows if he were to reach out and touch Lovino, he would back up and shout at him. So he waits. But it is very hard to be patient, especially when he can see up close now the way sweat makes Lovino’s shirt cling to his body, and just how tightly his trousers hug his hips.
“You aren’t my boss anymore,” Lovino says. “So shut the fuck up.”
Antonio laughs. “That’s not cute at all.”
“Neither is this,” Lovino says, and then he’s kicking Antonio’s legs apart and kneeling down between them.
“Oh—” Antonio starts.
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Lovino barks, lifting his hands and undoing the belt to Antonio’s trousers, tugging it free once it was unhooked and going for the button and zip of his trousers.
Antonio watches him in mystified silence and isn’t at all surprised to see how hard he is, once Lovino pulls his pants down slightly and reveals his cock. Lovino is an attractive person, after all, he thinks. It’s only natural that he would get excited from seeing him do things—even innocent things!—with his mouth.
Lovino rolls his eyes, which Antonio feels is an odd reaction to have when face to face with a cock. “Bastard, you should have said something.”
“You would have gotten angry with me, wouldn’t you?” Antonio asks with a laugh that lights up his eyes.
Lovino stares up at him, scowling and brow furrowed.
Then he rolls his eyes and tilts his head. “Shut up.”
“What are you going to do?” Antonio asks, watching Lovino push Antonio’s shirt up.
Lovino snorts. “Are you an idiot?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, though, and instead splays his lips across Antonio’s stomach, one hand lifting to fist his cock in his hand. Antonio sucks in a sharp breath, and it’s definitely hotter than it was before but that’s alright because Antonio’s always liked the flood of warmth that curls into his stomach whenever Lovino touches him. Antonio let out another soft sound, but otherwise stayed quiet for a few moments as Lovino worked his lips against Antonio’s stomach.
Antonio’s breath comes a little harder now, and Lovino’s fingers are only lightly touching his cock, and his mouth hasn’t touched it yet and Antonio is aching and waiting and it’s boiling over and up into his chest so that it lodges into his throat. He knows he’s grinning like a fool, and knows that Lovino will probably get angry if he looks up and sees it. He bites his lip, but can’t banish the feeling of happiness. He never can. Not when Lovino touches him like this.
Lovino’s fingers drag across his cock, thumbing around the head. Antonio lets out a quiet gasp, and doesn’t have time to say anything before Lovino finally—finally!—ducks his head and takes the cock into his mouth. He sucks on the tip, and Antonio can feel the way his tongue swirls around the head of his cock, tasting him and enveloping his cock in warm, tight heat. Antonio manages to swallow a small cry, but otherwise he feels like he’s going to suffocate. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted Lovino to touch him until he actually is. And it’s worth it. It’s very worth it.
Antonio lifts his hands and curls his fingers into Lovino’s hair. He avoids the stubborn curl, because he knows that if he so much as touches it, Lovino gets angry and the last thing Antonio wants is for Lovino to get angry and to stop what he’s doing. Lovino makes a soft grunting noise as Antonio tugs at his hair, but otherwise does not protest. He’s focused on what he’s doing, and he laves his tongue along Antonio’s feverish skin, pillowing his lips along the pulsing flesh. Antonio takes this as encouragement, and tugs on his hair just a little, trying to draw Lovino closer. Lovino’s hand grips at Antonio’s hip, the other still curled around his cock and pumping his fingers slowly in time with his mouth as his tongue curls along the skin. He drags his palm over the base of Antonio’s cock as he works his mouth over the tip.
Lovino’s tongue laps at the slit of his cock before pulling away. He holds his cock almost reverently—though Lovino still has the look on his face that seems more annoyed than anything else. (But Antonio knows that his cute little Lovino is just shy! Even if saying so means he’d get hit.) He pillows his lips over the length, eyes flickering up, just briefly, to stare at Antonio.
Predictably, his expression darkens when he sees Antonio’s wide grin. He pulls his mouth away, licking his lips—and already his lips are swollen from the attentions, and it’s enough to make Antonio want to jerk his hips up and into Lovino’s mouth.
“Don’t smile so much, bastard,” he says with a scowl.
“But I’m happy,” Antonio protests. “And Lovi looks so cute when he’s doing these things to me.”
Lovino’s face heats up further as his expression darkens. He ducks his head, and the hand holding his cock tightens its hold. Antonio bites his lower lip, just slightly. Lovino says, voice strained, “Don’t… don’t say such stupid shit, you idiot. Or I’ll stop.”
“Right, right.” He pauses, and then adds, voice soft, “Please don’t stop, Lovi.”
“Tch,” Lovino scoffs, but takes that as a victory as he ducks his head again and kisses at the cock. He looks up at Antonio again, and keeps his eyes on him for a long moment. Antonio smiles, not as manic this time, just happy that he can watch Lovino—and he’s always been so nice to look at, especially when Antonio’s cock is bulging against Lovino’s cheek as his tongue swirls around the hardened flesh. Lovino watches him without wavering, kissing along the length of the rigid cock, then along the pelvic bone, the sharp cut of his hip, and his inner thighs which shudder under Lovino’s attentions.
Antonio lets out a soft sigh and, upon the slight urge by Lovino in the form of a tug on his hips, Antonio jerks up. Lovino makes a soft sound that could have been satisfaction, though it was always hard to tell with Lovino, and ducks his head against Antonio again, taking the cock into his mouth again and stroking his tongue along the underside of Antonio’s cock. His breath is hot, shallow, pressing up against his skin and drifting away into the suffocating heat of the Spanish summer. Lovino scoots closer, hands on him, hot against his skin, skin hot beneath his touch.
“So cute,” Antonio coos, his breath ragged and shallow as he jerks his hips up slightly to meet Lovino’s mouth.
Lovino pulls away, staring up at Antonio—and this time Antonio tells himself that the way Lovino’s face is all red is because he’s embarrassed (so cute, he thinks) and not just because of the heat. Though it is a hot day, and there is sweat clinging to Lovino’s temples and forehead, and Antonio knows that his body is hot, and slightly sticky in places.
“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Lovino mutters, more to himself than to Antonio, because he knows better than to think that Antonio is even capable of shutting his mouth.
Again, he doesn’t wait for an answer before he ducks his head, kissing along the underside of Antonio’s cock, following the trail the thick vein left there, tongue darting out between his swollen lips and tracing along the skin. He teases him, and Antonio falls right into his trap—knows he’ll always fall, if it’s Lovino—and tightens his hold on Lovino’s hair, his fingers tangled with the locks of his hair. He makes a small choking sound as Lovino continues his ministrations, and he almost dares to think that Lovino is smiling as he traces his lips against his skin.
He collects it once again into his mouth with great care, sucking gently and inhaling and exhaling around the dusty cockhead pressing against his tongue. Antonio makes another soft sound as Lovino works, already so close to the edge—and Lovino has hardly started at all.
He kisses against his cock and Antonio shivers despite the suffocating heat. He closes his eyes, tugs on Lovino’s hair—listens to the sound of his movements and ministrations—
The wet noises, the sucking, the swallows, and there, just slightly—the smallest little moan—
Antonio jerks his hips just a little upon hearing it, that soft exhale that Lovino tries to hide through just taking in a sharp breath. But Antonio hears it, and the flood of warmth grows almost unbearable. He jerks his hips up again and Lovino is there to meet him, loosening his mouth and taking more of his cock into him, tongue pressing against the underside as he works to swallow more and more of Antonio.
“Lovi,” he says quietly, perhaps as a warning, or perhaps just because his throat is thick and he wants to say his name.
Lovino looks up, hair falling into his eyes and clinging to his sweaty forehead. He doesn’t smile around Antonio’s cock—he’d half-hoped he would, if only because the sight was always enough to send Antonio over the edge—but his expression does almost seem a little softer as he works. He pulls the cock from his mouth, just slightly, so only the tip of his cock is in his mouth. Keeping his eyes on Antonio, he swirls his tongue around the head and then withdraws, only to pillow his lips over the cockhead, slowly.
So slowly—
Antonio clenches his eyes shut, pulling his fingers through Lovino’s hair.
“Lovi,” he gasps out.
Lovino grunts from between his legs.
He watches the way his swollen lips bend over his cock, the way his tongue laves over the flesh, from tip to base, and back again. He lays worship to Antonio’s cock, and Antonio is left unable to do anything but weakly jerk his hips up. Lovino massages the length of his cock with his tongue, tumbles his hot mouth down onto the cock and holds it steady against his tongue and mouth and the warm, warm heat.
Antonio moans. “Lovi…”
Lovino’s brows furrow and he pulls away again—and it takes all of Antonio’s restraint not to beg for him to return to the task at hand—
“Either do something or shut up. Stop saying my name and nothing else.”
“But—” Antonio says softly, voice breathless.
Lovino shakes his head. “Just do it already, idiot.”
And with that he sinks his mouth back down onto the cock—past the cockhead, down the length of his cock. He breathes through his mouth, taking more and more of Antonio into his mouth. Antonio holds him, watches him, feels his body tighten up.
He gasps out just a little and jerks his hips one more time before he lets himself fall over the edge. He strokes Lovino’s hair and watches him take as much of Antonio’s cock into his mouth as he can without choking. He gasps out Lovino’s name one more time before he’s coming into Lovino’s eager mouth. His hands move Lovino up and down against his cock, guiding his head and mouth. He knows he’ll be scolded later for doing so, but right now he isn’t really concentrating on consequences—his mind is completely wrapped up in Lovino and Lovino alone.
Antonio continues to thrust until Lovino milks him dry, sucking him into his mouth and breathing out through his nose, eyebrows slanted and eyes clenched shut as he concentrates. Antonio moans quietly and with one last little jerk of his hips, falls still in his chair.
The air around them is thick, and the day continues as usual. Antonio can hear the birds chirping in the distance, now that his thoughts aren’t focused solely on Lovino and his movements. Lovino waits until Antonio’s cock softens up before he pulls away, wiping his thumb over his mouth to make sure he doesn’t have anything on his face.
Then he scowls—and Antonio is too fuzzy-brained to make a comment on how, no matter what expression, Lovino really is the prettiest, not just cute.
But it is probably for the better, because after such a nice time with Lovino, he doesn’t want to ruin it by having Lovino storm off or hit him.
He smiles at him, face red from the heat. “Lovi—”
“You really don’t listen,” Lovino says with a scowl, tucking Antonio back into his trousers and redoing the belt for him. He smoothes his hands over Antonio’s thighs, smoothing out the fabric of his trousers. Then he stands, grabs the bottle of water, and holds it out to him. “Drink.”
“Huh?” Antonio asks, slowly.
“So you don’t pass out like a moron,” Lovino snaps and shakes the bottle at him until Antonio takes it.
“But, Lovi,” Antonio begins.
“What?” Lovino snaps when Antonio doesn’t speak quickly enough for him.
Antonio does take a drink, to pacify him, but sets it down quickly and lifts his hands, tugging Lovino closer by his hips. He’s still smiling and he ignores Lovino’s squawk when Antonio pulls Lovino down into his lap.
“Thank you,” Antonio says and kisses at Lovino’s throat.
Lovino mutters something that Antonio doesn’t quite catch, though he can feel the hum of his words beneath his lips as he kisses at his adam’s apple.
“Now Boss will return the favor!” he says, cheerfully.
“It’s about damn time,” Lovino mutters, but his face is definitely turning a bright red as Antonio makes quick work of cupping his hand over the cock straining against Lovino’s expensive designer trousers.
“Hmmm,” Antonio hums happily.
“If you ruin my clothes, I’ll kill you,” Lovino warns.
“I’ll be careful,” Antonio chirps before shifting his hand down and making good on his promise. He likes to look at Lovino whenever he does this, so him sitting in his lap is perfect for that.
Lovino grips his shoulders with his hands and mutters something again before leaning in and finally kissing Antonio. Antonio counts this as a victory.