Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

They enter the changing room at half-time and the atmosphere is electric. They manage to contain themselves while in the tunnel - a sliver of good sportsmanship, and the good sense not to laugh into the face of an enemy who’s not dead yet - but the moment the door closes behind them there’s a burst of laughter, a feeling of eagerness and delight that sweeps through the room, bouncing from player to player until they are all buzzing.

They are two up after a difficult start. Italy had pushed and pushed in the first minutes, but they had managed to contain them and then they had reversed the momentum and scored twice, gripping control of the game in both hands and not letting it go. Lautaro and Angel look like they could start flying any second, receiving the hugs and pats on the back with wide smiles on their faces.

Dibu sways on the ball of his feet, gaze flitting from person to person until he spots Leo, who has already removed his shirt and is rubbing a damp towel on the back of his neck and his face.

He beelines for him, ducking under the arm of someone - Molina he thinks - who is trying to ruffle his hair. He reaches him in time to see him emerge from the towel, eyes sparkling and the corner of his mouth twitching as he watches the chaos of flying kits and listens to the chatter. Rodri is talking to him, mouth working furiously and eyebrows raised, an arm wrapped around his waist.

Dibu sees the smile that starts to stretch Leo’s lips as he watches him approach, and then his eyes widen when, as soon as he’s in reach, Dibu’s hands grab the sides of his face. He lets out a startled sound, raising his eyebrows at him. 

Dibu not so discreetly hip-checks Rodri out of the way, swatting at the hand that is still resting on Leo’s waist with his elbow until he lets go of him, and then he returns to the more important things and tilts Leo’s head to the side.

“Wha-” Leo asks, going with the motion and letting him turn his head sideways. His hands fall automatically to Dibu’s hips, finger tightening in an affectionate squeeze.

Dibu feels his lips thin as he sees how red Leo’s ear looks, the cartilage slightly swollen. He can hear Rodri mutter curses at him under his breath, before he too comes closer again to peer at the side of Leo’s head.

“Does it still hurt?” Dibu asks, and there’s a spark of rage in his chest as he remembers watching the replay on the screen of Leo getting an elbow to the head and going down with a grimace. 

He brushes his thumb along the shell of his ear, barely touching the skin but still being able to feel the warmth radiating from it. It doesn’t look that bad, but in Dibu’s opinion every single knock Leo takes is utterly unacceptable. 

The only marks he should wear on his skin ought to have the shape of Dibu’s mouth.

Rodri makes a displeased sound, his brows pulling together. Leo lets out a long-suffering sigh, glancing at the both of them from the corner of his eyes because his head is still being tilted away by Dibu’s hands.

“Oh, knock it off you two, I’m okay,” he says, pushing Rodri away gently. 

Dibu notices that he doesn’t try to shake him off though, and his lips curl into a smirk. He catches Rodri’s gaze and holds the eye-contact as he bends down enough to place a soft kiss on the reddened skin, and his smug smile widens when, from behind Leo’s back, Rodri pulls a face at him and flips him off. 

Leo does push him away then, snorting as he places a hand on his belly to make him back up while looking up at him knowingly. Dibu steps back and lets him go, widening his eyes innocently. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” The mirth in his voice is barely concealed.

Dibu raises his hands placatingly and takes a couple of steps back to put a bit of space between them. Leo has a strict policy of no kissing during matches - which means during half-time, because even Dibu has enough self-control not to plant one on him in the middle of the pitch. Mostly. It’s a mighty unfair policy, Dibu thinks, because Leo looks very kissable right now.

“Sorry. Just… it looked kinda bad from afar.”

Leo hums, shaking his head with a smile. “Worrywart. I’m not made of glass, you know?”

Dibu nods sheepishly. He opens his mouth to reply but the door of the changing room opens, announcing the arrival of Scaloni.

Leo makes a sharp gesture with his head, his eyes gaining that intense focus that means that the only thing he’s thinking about is the match. Or fucking Dibu until he can’t see straight, but going from context clues Dibu is pretty sure that’s not the case here. He turns to listen to the coach as well, feeling himself get pulled back into the right mindset.

Scaloni’s voice is not too loud, but the chatter in the room quietens drastically as soon as he starts speaking.

“Good job boys. You played very well.” 

His gaze scans over them and the pride in his eyes makes all of them stand to attention. His arms are crossed over his chest and he’s not smiling, but that tense posture and expression are typical for him. He doesn’t relax, he doesn’t celebrate until the final whistle sounds.

“That said,” he continues, his voice becoming sterner. “Do not slack. I want to see you playing as if we were one down. No stupid mistakes, give it your all, and if I catch you relaxing too much I’m going to make you regret it, understood?”

They all chorus their understanding, and Scaloni stares at them until he’s satisfied with what he sees in their posture.

“Good. Now, here’s what we’re going to change for the next half...” 

Dibu follows the explanation carefully, even if there’s not much said about what he ought to do differently. Once the technical chat is over, the coaches leave the room to let them finish freshening up. 

Next to him, Dibu can feel Leo loosening up. He glances down at him and finds him already looking back. He scoots closer and wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into his side. He sways forwards instinctively to press his lips briefly to the crown of his head and his breath stutters a little. How the fuck does he always smell so good? He leans back enough so that he’s looking at him in the eyes again. He has forgotten what he wanted to talk about, so he opens his mouth and lets out the first thing that passes through his mind. Unfortunately, his mind is a dirty traitor, and spits out the worst thing he could say.

“So, Captain, do you think we’ll lift another cup together?” 

As soon as his words catch up to his brain he grimaces, watching as Leo’s eyes widen in costernation.

“You asshole, shut your mouth!” Leo hisses. His voice is half amused, half horrified, and Dibu lets out an apology from behind his hand, which he had slapped on his mouth as soon as he realized the kind of curse he had just brought down on them.

Leo shakes his head at him. “You’re lucky Licha or Cuti didn’t hear you, or you’d have not walked out of here alive.”

Dibu snorts. He apologizes again but Leo just smiles at him.

“I went temporarily deaf there, I think. Come on, go dress, we have just a couple of minutes left,” he says, slipping from under his arm in a graceful motion.

Dibu nods and turns around, heading towards his locker before a thought hits him and he turns back with a smirk.

“No kiss for good luck? You know, to get rid of the jinx.”

Leo laughs, and then he whips out the shirt he still has in his hand towards him in a playful gesture. It hits him in the ass, the edge of it impacting on bare skin with a little bite, a sting that washes away as soon as Dibu’s brain registers it. Dibu’s step falters and he turns his head forwards quickly to hide the widening of his eyes. 

Oh.

Leo is still laughing as he turns away, unaware of the fact that Dibu’s world has kind of just wobbled on its axis, and Dibu goes back to his spot on autopilot. A light shudder runs through him and his hand drops down in a mindless motion, his fingers brushing the spot on the back of his thigh - skin pebbled and slightly tingling still. He swallows, and then he shakes his head to clear it. 

He doesn’t have time to unpack that, so he compartmentalizes, shutting off all the parts of his brain that have nothing to do with football. He manages, somehow, and soon they are gathering in front of the door in a huddle. There are determined smiles on all their faces, and Dibu feels his focus sharpen as he listens to Leo’s voice, soft but fierce as he spurs them on, winds them up until they are all itching to go, wide eyes excited and eager.

They file out of the changing room with a litany of shouts and encouragements, and Dibu feels Leo press his hand to the base of his spine as he passes by him, the touch equal parts reassuring and affectionate.

He’s still smiling by the time he takes his place between the sticks.

They don’t manage to score again until the dying seconds of the game, despite the amount of chances. They hold the reins of the game in an iron fist though, and Dibu doesn’t have much work to do. He watches from the other end of the pitch as Paulo sinks in a beautiful shot, and he punches the air with a holler.

He feels his chest squeeze, and the muscles in his legs jumping as the last few seconds drag on, and he’s running as soon as he sees the ref bring the whistle to his mouth, even before the shrill sound has time to reach him.

The entire team is huddled around Leo, and Dibu is the last to arrive, so he has to content himself with jumping on top of them. He yells out something - he has no idea what - and between the tangle of arms and heads he spies the way Leo’s head rises up at the sound of his voice, a wide grin splitting his face as he turns towards him and reaches out a hand to touch him. His eyes are sparkling, the look in them turns unbearably warm as their gazes lock, and Dibu feels his thundering heart skip a beat. 

The huddle dissolves into a loose circle around Leo and everyone locks arms and starts jumping, the crowd is chanting dale campeón and the way the cheers somehow get even louder as they start singing with them makes Dibu’s heart jump wildly in his chest.

Leo tries to join the circle, tries to slip into the ranks, but Ota pushes him back in the center with a laugh and starts chanting his name as they jump in circles around him.

Veni, veni, canta conmigo 

Que un amigo vas a encontrar. 

Que de la mano de Leo Messi 

Todos la vuelta vamos a dar.

Dibu joins in, joy and excitement bubbling in his stomach, the feeling of his teammates moving with him, jumping, swaying to the rhythm, and Leo’s brilliant smile - a hint of embarrassment and a lot of affection - as he watches them sing.

They won, they won, they won!

That mantra repeats in his mind like the ringing of a bell, the knowledge that they have achieved something else together, the feeling that they are invincible and on top of the world and walking behind Leo as he leads them to victory after victory.

Licha grabs Leo in a bridal carry and hoists him up, and then there are hands reaching forwards from all around, sharing the burden until Leo’s flying through the air - a startled laugh, his arms jerking wide in search of stability - and there when he comes back down just to throw him up again.

His name echoes through the stadium in a chant that’s been going on for almost two decades, and Dibu watches him throw his head back and laugh, the sound free and happy and exactly how Dibu wants him to sound always.

They let him go eventually, and Leo stumbles into Dibu's chest, still laughing, turning his head against Dibu’s bicep as his arms close around him in a tight hug. 

Dibu has a glorious second in which the world narrows down to the two of them - Leo’s fast breathing against his chest, his fingers digging into his back as he holds him tight - and then time resumes as normal and he finds himself being dragged away and into Ota’s hug. Dibu shouts his name and grabs him by the shoulders, tugging him in a sort of desynchronized jumping dance as they yell at each other like children. Dibu swings his arm out wide and drags Cuti in as well.

Time passes in a blur after that, full of hugs and backslaps and random starting of chants as groups form and dissolve again and again, and he’s vaguely aware of the swarm of people rushing through the field, setting up the stage and trying to corral them into some semblance of order. Eventually, the fresh rush of adrenaline ebbs slightly, and they sort themselves out, settling into two lines in front of each other as they wait for the presentation to start.

Leo is chattering away to Rodri, his face flushed and excited, and he looks surprised when Paulo leans in to call his name and nudges him forwards. He turns his head questioningly and an official leans down to whisper something in his ear. He smiles then, pleased and a bit awkward as he walks down the corridor of Argentina players, ducking his head in a self-conscious gesture, until he reaches the podium where he receives the small opaque award that recognizes him as the player of the match. The crowd roars in approval, and Dibu can see the ways his eyes light up even from his spot in the middle of the line.

Leo hurries back to rejoin them and they watch the Italians walk in between them, congratulating them while they file up to get the silver medal, mouths tight and shoulders slumped despite the effort of not letting the disappointment show too much. 

Soon it’s their turn.

Dibu walks onto the podium with a bounce in his step, and his smile widens as he bends down and feels the medal being placed around his neck. His hand reaches up to touch it, the warm color of the gold glinting under his fingers, real and solid. 

He turns back to the podium as soon as he reaches the others, when they are all waiting arrayed on the steps. They watch Leo receive the medal, and then the trophy. It’s beautiful, elegant and solid at the same time, shining under the bright lights.

Leo cannot stop smiling as he approaches them, and then he crouches a little, and Dibu’s grin becomes wide and delighted as they all imitate him, building the tension until he reaches the center and jumps up with a shout of joy.

The roar of the crowd swells as a bright and shining rain of confetti explodes from behind them, and Dibu feels his heart soar.

Leo glances at him - one, two times, his eyes full of happiness - and Dibu feels warm all over.

They take the victory lap around the stadium, cheering and celebrating with the fans, and Dibu takes a step back from Leo, follows him and Rodri but doesn’t speed up to be at his side. He doesn’t dare. He’s not sure he’d be able to keep his hands to himself, doesn’t know he wouldn’t do something stupid and reckless when he feels like this.

His hand is still playing with the medal, and he’s not sure if he’s dreaming or awake. This makes two. Two medals won with Argentina, two bright points of light after a long drought. A third on the horizon, shining invitingly as they march towards it.

He’s still somewhat incredulous that this is life. Just a little over a year ago he had played his first match in the albiceleste shirt and now he’s here, two gold medals and Leo’s face lit up in a smile in front of him. 

All his hard work and all the hardship he went through, and fuck… Finally. It hits him like a truck, the fact that he’d made it. He doesn’t know why that’s the moment it hits him, just that he feels a wave of joy wash through him. 

He runs up to Ota and jumps on him, elated. Their celebration continues in the locker room, and then in the bus - the floor swaying under them as they sing every single chant they can think of. Nobody is seated properly, a mass of bodies spilling out into the corridor between seats, the silver cup being passed from hand to hand. 

Dibu has hugged and kissed every single one of his teammates at least ten times, his affection for them bubbles like champagne under his skin, and he’s so happy that it’s them he’s sharing this moment with. Ota’s loud hollering, Angel’s excited shouts, Lautaro’s enthusiastic dance moves. Cuti, Licha and Molina, arm in arms as they sway drunkenly, Lea and Rodri nudging and annoying each other. It feels like home.

But there’s this urge under his skin that’s still niggling at him, because he has deprived himself of what he wants most for too long. 

He squirms past Armani, planting another kiss on his head, wiggles his way through the tangle of Juli and Paulo and Nico until he reaches Leo, who is on the edge of the group. He’s singing along, but he seems mostly content with watching them, a delighted smile on his lips. He looks good enough to make Dibu’s heart clench in his chest, and suddenly he’s so glad that they are in this bubble, surrounded on all sides by friends and loud noise, because he can touch now, and he’s not going to hold himself back anymore.

He scoots behind him, winds an arm around his waist and tugs him down in a seat until he has him sitting on his lap. Leo lets out a soft noise, but his body is already pressing back into him, warm and lovely and solid under his touch. Dibu squeezes him, holds him closer, buries his face in the nape of his neck and presses a kiss to the warm, damp skin there. Leo shivers in his arms and relaxes back into him, tipping his head back onto Dibu’s shoulder to beam at him. His hands land on his forearm, fingers sliding on his skin until he twines their fingers together. He takes advantage of the poor lighting, and the complete distraction of the group to twist a bit in his arms and he reaches up for him, his mouth finding Dibu’s in a slow, hot kiss.

Dibu bends down and sinks into the kiss with a sound of satisfaction, his hand spreading wide over the taut muscles of his belly to pull him against his body, and then he drags it lower - curling around his hip bone, thumb digging into the delicious dip there and lower still, down his thigh in a slow caress. He lets his fingers slip under the hem of his shorts, until his palm is pressed against the supple muscle there, feeling it flex as Leo sighs into his mouth and deepens the kiss. 

Dibu’s cock is hard, and getting steadily harder as Leo grinds his ass down against him, his heartbeat ratcheting up and the noise of their surroundings fading into the background until he could almost convince himself that they are alone. 

His hand inches up, fingers curling around the inside of his thigh, the skin flawlessly smooth and enticing as he presses his fingertips in that delicious spot, the soft and delicate place where the curve of Leo’s ass melts into his leg, his hand completely inside the leg of his shorts. Leo rewards him by slipping his tongue deeper in his mouth, arching to push into his touch and reaching back to grab the back of his neck in a firm hold as he pulls him more insistently against his lips. Dibu smothers a whimper against his tongue, his cock jerking as Leo’s fingernails dig into his nape almost painfully.

The illusion of privacy and solitude is shattered, though, when he feels a grip around his wrist - not Leo’s fingers, he could recognize his touch while blindfolded and concussed - and his hand gets yanked away from Leo’s soft, hot skin.

Leo pulls back with a disgruntled murmur, his gaze reproachful, and then he jerks in his embrace with a surprised sound. Dibu follows the tilt of his head to find out that it’s Rodri who’s holding his arm hostage. He pulls his wrist out of his grip, his mouth already opening to protest even as Leo lets out an embarrassed sound and lets his head thump back against Dibu’s shoulder, eyes closed. 

“No molesting the Captain on the team bus, for fuck sake Dibu!” Rodri shouts, trying to make himself heard over the deafening noise of their teammates. 

His smile is gleeful and a little vindictive. Dibu wants to bite his hands off. This is certainly his way of getting back at Dibu’s for what happened at half-time. The bastard. 

Leo laughs and turns towards Rodri with a sheepish smile, already apologizing. He doesn’t move from his seat though, so Dibu can almost forgive Rodri. Almost. He rolls his eyes when Rodri’s voice attracts the attention of the people closest to them, and the back of Leo’s neck turns red at the resulting wolf-whistles and delighted laughs. 

He glares at Rodri, who is looking at them mock-disappointed. Dibu notices that his eyes are wide though, his pupils big and dark as his gaze flits from the exposed slice of skin high up on Leo’s thigh, to his mouth, to his lap, where the white fabric does little to hide how turned on he is. He pulls his gaze away with difficulty, and when he manages, Dibu is there to give him a smug smirk.

Rodri bares his teeth at him mockingly, shakes his head with a laugh, and then the asshole has the gall to slump down in the seat next to them.

“Right. It seems it’s my duty to distract you two unless you want to scar your poor teammates. I’m the fun police tonight.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Dibu groans.

He feels Leo’s fingers squeeze his in a silent agreement as he adjusts himself in his lap, trying to get in a more decent position that doesn’t show exactly how kissing Dibu has affected him. His movements are highly distracting, make Dibu bite his lip to stop the whimper from escaping his mouth, and in the end - between the tightness of the pants and the magnitude of what he’s trying to hide - he doesn’t actually succeed. Dibu feels bad for him and he leans forwards, pressing his chest into Leo’s back and suffering under another twisting motion of Leo’s ass against his cock to reach over the seat in front of them. He manages to snag his fingers into a discarded sweatshirt and he drags it over Leo’s lap. His own problem is pretty well hidden by Leo’s warm weight.

Leo tilts his head to brush his lips to Dibu’s jaw in appreciation, and then he fixes a glare on Rodri.

“Why,” he hisses, his tone hovering between amused and irritated, “did you take it upon yourself to be the fun police?”

Rodri raises his eyebrows, smiling. “Because the other choice was to have Juli come and tell you off, and the poor kid would have combusted on the spot. I’m just watching out for the younglings Captain, you should be proud of me.”

Dibu turns and locates Juli, who is conspicuously not looking in their direction, his ears red. He looks kind of dazed, and he’s half a verse behind the rest of the guys singing. Dibu suppresses a snort.

“Oh god,” Leo says, and his voice is 100% amused now. “Wait… had anyone clued him in or did he just find out right now?” His eyes are wide, his mouth fighting a smile.

Rodri bursts out laughing. “Oh, I think he just found out. He made a kind of squeaking noise? Like a mouse being stepped on. I thought he was choking on something. Hilarious.”

Leo hides his face behind his hands with a groan.

“There there,” Rodri pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. The boy is resilient.”

Leo lets out a slow, controlled sigh, and slumps back into Dibu’s chest. “Well… I guess I should probably talk to him about that.”

Dibu tightens the hold he has around his waist. “You can do that later. Maybe on the plane. I have a feeling he’s going to keel over if you don’t give him a bit of time. Also, do you feel like shouting about us sleeping together? Because you’d have to do that if you want him to hear you right now.”

“I’d shout it from the rooftops babe,” Leo says, leaning his head back to bat his eyelids up at him. 

His voice is syrupy-sweet and his expression of adoration extremely exaggerated, but there’s a thread of sincerity there that makes Dibu’s heart skip a beat, a stupid smile growing on his face. Leo’s gaze turns from teasing to incredibly fond, and Dibu has to actually hold himself back from bending down to kiss him again. 

Joy and exhilaration and satisfaction look amazing on Leo’s face.

“You guys are disgusting. Could you be a little less cheesy please? You’re giving me diabetes,” Rodri whines, covering his eyes like a scandalized old lady.

Leo makes a face at him, but his body remains sprawled on top of Dibu, relaxed. Dibu loves this, the fact that Leo is comfortable being like this with him in front of other people.

He’s about to bite back a retort when the bus jerks to a jarring stop, and his hand comes up to stop someone - Cuti he thinks - from falling on top of Leo. Rodri has somehow managed to react even quicker than him - those bodyguard reflexes in full strength apparently - and he’s pulling a stumbling Angel back on his feet. 

Dibu turns his head and tries to peer through the bodies of his teammates to see why they have stopped. He manages to catch a glimpse of their surroundings and he nudges Leo.

“We’re at the airport!”

The noise level climbs even higher somehow as they get down in a scramble. Dibu gets separated from Leo, but the need under his skin has been sated enough by having him in his arms for a while that he can let himself be pulled back into the celebratory mood quickly, and he joins in the singing gleefully, feeling light and happy as the voices of his team echo around him.

The flight back is short. Their training grounds are in Spain, which means that the trip only takes a couple of hours. Dibu gets dragged into a lively retelling of the match from Nico’s perspective and he laughs and jokes with him, still high on the sweet taste of victory.

In the periphery of his vision he sees Leo approach Juli for what looks like a truly awkward conversation, and he has to turn away to stop himself from laughing. The way Leo keeps gesturing, sort of squirming a little as he tries to keep a professional facade going, and the way Juli’s face is incredibly transparent - Dibu can see from here that he’s dying to ask him a million questions - is too funny.

By the time they hit the hotel they are staying in, the mood has calmed down a bit. They are all dead tired, their energy drained from the long day and from the high they have been on since the final whistle sounded.

Dibu awkwardly evades a couple of offers of late night card games, or dance parties in someone’s room, trying to keep his blush under control as he sees the realization spread on Cuti’s amused face. The whistles he receives as he slings an arm around Leo’s shoulders and steers him towards the stairs just make him turn his head back to level them with a mock-superior stare. Leo pinches him in the side at that, his cheeks dusted pink and an exasperated look in his eyes.

“You are a troll,” he says, amused, as the noise dampens a bit when they enter the hallway.

“You are a catch Leo, I have to show them their places somehow,” Dibu snickers. “I had half a mind to invest in a stick, you know, to beat them off of you.”

Leo laughs, an embarrassed sound that makes Dibu’s stomach flutter, and shakes his head. “Love the possessive caveman-like posturing darling, but I highly doubt that it’s necessary.”

Dibu looks down at him, eyebrow raised, and Leo rolls his eyes at him.

Dibu tries to figure out if he’s actually that oblivious or if he’s joking. There’s no way that he hasn’t noticed how the majority of the team looks at him, right? It’s not that Dibu is actually worried here, for all his teasing he knows that nobody would actually hit on Leo now that the fact that they are together is common knowledge. But as he watches Leo’s doubtful face, he finds himself shaking his head, helplessly charmed.

They walk in silence, Dibu’s arm still wrapped around Leo’s shoulders, until they reach the door of Leo’s room. Dibu feels excitement starting to bubble in his stomach, because the room is fairly remote, at the end of a corridor and behind a corner, and shares a wall with a single other room. The walls are pretty thick as well - he and Leo had tested them thoroughly in the days before the match - which, together with the fact that the rest of the group is pretty distracted, means that Dibu can be as loud as he wants. 

He startles a bit when Leo stops in his tracks and reaches up to peck him on the mouth, a fleeting touch that still manages to make his heart flutter. Before Dibu can do much more than blink, Leo slips out from under his arm and opens the door, giving him a cheery wave.

“Goodnight then, sweet dreams.”

Dibu makes a startled sound. He had assumed… Well, he had assumed they would resume from where they had left off on the bus, but he hadn’t actually asked . He feels disappointment bubble up in his chest, but he makes sure that it doesn’t show on his face.

“Yes, of course- ah… Good night.” 

He fidgets a little, wondering if he could get away with stealing at least another kiss, and that’s when Leo starts laughing. Dibu whips his head back up to see Leo leaning against the door, his smile wide and his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Come here, you dumbass, I was joking.”

Dibu snorts, feeling his face heat up as he makes grabby hands at him, until he’s hugging him and pushing him back in his room.

“You are so mean to me Leo,” he grumbles, his lips pulled into a wry smile as Leo’s body shakes from laughter in his grasp. He presses his lips to Leo’s temple, closing the door behind them with the heel of his foot. 

He doesn't bother pulling away from Leo to lock it; everyone is perfectly well aware that if they dare to disturb them for anything that isn't the end of the world they are going to have to crawl back out to go look for new kneecaps. He's made sure of that.

He brushes his lips against Leo’s skin, his hands sliding down his back as he captures his laughing mouth in a kiss. “Terrible. I don’t know why I put up with you,” he murmurs between kisses, and then he’s suddenly reminded of why when Leo moans and pulls him closer to himself, his demeanor changing suddenly from teasing to intense, his fingers slipping under Dibu’s shirt and then up his back. Dibu shivers as he feels his nails dig into his skin as he drags them back down, leaving light scratches from the middle of his back to his hips that raise goosebumps all over his body.

“Did you really think I would let you leave after we won our second trophy together?” 

Leo pulls back just enough to fix him with a heated look, his voice low and hard. His pupils are blown wide and Dibu can feel him, hot and hard against his thigh. Any thoughts of teasing or joking flee his mind, and Dibu lets himself be pulled forwards, feeling himself start to slip into that needy and obedient state that Leo is able to induce in him with just a look. 

He shakes his head no, dazed, and Leo makes an approving sound as his hands slip lower to cup his ass. Dibu pushes back into the touch, shivering with a moan as it turns harsh and possessive, as Leo pulls him closer and makes him grind his cock against his abs. He lowers his mouth to Dibu’s neck, a warm kiss with a hint of teeth over his pulse point, his fingers drilling into his asscheeks until Dibu is sure he’s gonna have ten circular bruises to show for it in the morning. 

He exhales shakily, the mix of sensations - Leo’s muscles flexing against his cock, the pinpricks of pressure and dull pain that counterbalance the pleasure, the feeling of Leo’s mouth curving in a smile against his Adam’s apple - are enough to make him desperate. He drags his hands up Leo’s back, slips his fingers in his hair and lets out a shaky sound as Leo responds by biting him right under the edge of his jaw, a sharp sting that is made worse, better, when he pulls away to rub his cheek against it, his beard scratchy and a little coarse. He lowers his head, pressing his lips to Leo’s forehead with a sigh.

“Can I undress you?” He whispers, his fingers hovering over the hem of Leo’s shirt. 

Leo looks up at him with a greedy stare and nods, mouth curled into a small pleased smile. He lets go of him and takes a small step back to give him some space, and Dibu loses no time, pulling on the fabric until it slips from Leo’s body, and his mouth is soon busy leaving a trail of damp kisses down the side of Leo’s neck, along the line of his shoulder. Leo tips his head to the side with a pleased murmur, his hand raising to cup the back of Dibu’s head to press his mouth harder against his skin. Dibu’s hands slide down his sides, feeling the skin pebble under his fingertips as he trails them over the gorgeous curve of his hip bones. He leaves a soft bite at the raised edge of his collarbone, washing away the sting of it with his tongue and then he goes lower, kneeling to keep kissing his way down Leo’s chest. 

His pulse is fast and hard, thrumming through his veins as he pulls Leo’s trousers down, his breath coming shallow and shaky. He always loves this moment, it feels like he’s opening the best present ever, unwrapping Leo from his clothes until his cock springs out and slaps against his cheek. He kisses it, feels it leave a damp trail against his lips and chin as he nuzzles his face against Leo, his mouth open and wet as he presses it in the hollow under his hip bone. 

It always turns him almost mindless, being surrounded like this by Leo’s warmth, his scent, his presence. He gets distracted a little, brushing his mouth over the thin skin, feeling Leo’s pulse under his lips. He remembers he has a task to complete when he hears Leo shift above him, and sees him trying to slip out of his shoes. 

Before he has time to think about it, he reaches out to stop him. Leo makes a questioning noise, and Dibu shudders, an apology already falling from his mouth, letting go of him as if burned.

“Let me, please,” he whispers, running his fingers up the outsides of his thighs. 

He doesn’t move otherwise though, because when he’s like this, what Leo says goes. He already feels kind of bad for how firm his touch had been, his fingers digging into the meat of Leo’s calves as he had held him still. His mouth turns down at the corners, displeased with himself. 

“Sorry Leo, I..”

Leo makes a reassuring noise, touching his cheek gently. His eyes are so warm.

“Of course Emi.”

Dibu turns his face into the touch in gratitude, and lets his hands slide down his legs. He looks down then, trying to pull his focus together as he lowers himself even more, sitting on his heels. He unties his shoes, takes his ankle in a gentle hold and raises his foot enough to slip the shoe off. His mind is quiet, his movements slow and methodical. He repeats the actions with his other foot, and then he glances up. 

Leo’s face is mesmerizing. His mouth is parted, eyes shining with some swirl of emotions that Dibu is too scattered to decipher right now, expression open and faintly surprised.

He feels his face flush in response, and averts his eyes as he reaches up to hook his fingers in the band of his trousers and boxers. He pulls them down slowly, and he cannot hold back from leaning in to press kisses to the uncovered skin. His mouth follows the path of the fabric as it slips down Leo’s legs. He can feel Leo’s muscles twitch under his lips as he bends down, until he has left a trail of damp kisses down the inside of his thigh, on the side of his knee and then lower. 

He ends up practically sprawled at his feet, his lips brushing against the delicate knob of his ankle, his breathing slow but hitching in his chest. He finds the strength to look for Leo’s reaction, and his heart skips a beat. 

Leo's face is flushed, expression raw with want and there’s that trace of awe again, that look that makes Dibu’s chest swell with something powerful and almost debilitating - the feeling of being good for Leo, of being exactly like he wants him to be, like he’s made for him. He closes his eyes with a trembling breath and his face flushes deeper as he lets his tongue trace the thin skin under his lips reverently.

“Emi,” Leo's voice is a whisper, and then he pulls his leg away.

Dibu opens his eyes, his heart clenching in his chest, but he's only stepping out of his shorts, and he doesn't look displeased. He stays where he is, waiting for Leo to tell him what to do. His entire body is tense and trembling, but his mind is slow and easy, like it’s swimming through molasses.

Leo looks down at him with wide eyes, and there’s a trace of hesitation in the curl of his mouth that vanishes slowly as he keeps looking at him. Dibu doesn’t know what expression his face is making, but it must be talking loud and clear, because Leo’s gaze turns sure, eyes dark and steady as he steps closer again, reaching out with his foot to nudge at his jaw slowly. 

He pins him down with his stare as the pressure of his foot against his jaw increases gradually until he's forcing his head down to the floor, until Dibu’s cheek is pressed against the soft carpet. Dibu’s eyes widen as Leo pushes down a little harder, and he can feel his cheekbone sting a little as it drags against the carpet to accommodate the pressure. 

Dibu loses his breath in a single exhale, a soft whimper in the back of his throat and fire racing through his veins. He feels sweat break all over his skin, and he stares up desperately at him. Leo lets out a long, controlled sigh, the sound startlingly loud, cutting through the haze in Dibu’s mind like a hot knife, and he realizes where he is, where Leo has put him. 

In his place, his mind whispers.

He gasps out a moan, his face burning and he cannot take his eyes away from Leo’s expression, fierce and hot and raw. He swallows compulsively around the knot in his throat, feeling his eyes well up at the sharp sting of humiliated lust that spears through him, his fingers clenching in the rug until his fingertips throb. Leo pushes his face harder against the floor, making Dibu extend his neck with a careless little nudge that feels like a slap to the face. His cock is a dense ache of tangled lust and desperation between his thighs, a constant pull of needy want that makes him shake.

Leo keeps him there for a long moment - towering over him, holding him down in the most degrading way possible, a knowing, tender look in his eyes - and then he lets him go. Dibu lets out a soft, low moan of disappointment, shuddering at the feeling of loss, shame curling hotly in the pit of his belly at his own reaction. 

He wants more, he wants, he wants, he wants. 

Leo closes his eyes tightly at the sound, making Dibu’s stomach clench with need. He stays put though, at least until Leo composes himself and bends down, reaching out to card his fingers through his hair gently.

“So easy for me, darling,” he whispers, the words slow and warm and like a balm on Dibu's nerves. His mind is awash with something that lights up his veins, bright and lovely and cruel. “You want to be used so badly, don’t you?”

Dibu nods, and Leo makes a soft, considering sound. “You go down so prettily, I cannot believe how lucky I am.”

Dibu feels fireworks exploding in his brain at the praise, his skin flushing warmly all over. He curls his fingers around Leo’s ankles and shifts until he feels warm skin under his mouth again, pressing a trembling kiss to the top of Leo’s foot. Leo inhales sharply, and then he tugs gently at his hair. 

Dibu follows his touch, pushes himself up on his hands until he’s on his knees again, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to how good it feels to be there, how it feels like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be - under Leo, at his mercy, the solid press of his palm against his nape like a brand that seeps down to his bones. Leo's fingers tangle in his hair, fingernail scratching gently against his scalp in a reassuring motion until the tremors running through Dibu's body subside, and then he takes a step back and bends down, reaching into the pocket of his discarded pants and coming back with something shining. He smiles as he straightens, and he opens his hand to let the golden medal they had just won - that they had won together - swing from his fingers in front of his eyes.

He slips the ribbon over his head. “There you go. My champion,” he murmurs as he opens his fingers and lets it fall to his chest. Dibu smiles up at him, slow and dazed, pride like a burning ember in his chest, and Leo smiles back, fingers tracing the wide dark ribbon resting against his skin.

Dibu has a flash of an image - a spike of want that makes him shake a little - of Leo holding the fabric tight between his fingers, using it as a leash to make him bring his mouth to his cock, using it to set the pace he wants as he fucks his throat. He swallows, his cock jerking so harshly against the fabric of his trousers that it chafes a little. 

Leo’s fingers tensing against his jugular, the way his eyes darken abruptly and his mouth parts in a sigh tell him that maybe that thought had been so stark and bright that it had etched itself into his face, enough so that Leo had been able to read it.

Leo doesn’t act on it though. Dibu feels the question, the plea, bubble up in his throat, but the sharp look in Leo’s eyes kills the words on his tongue. Instead, Leo tilts his head up with his fingers and bends down to kiss him, slow and methodical, until Dibu loses his train of thought - what little there had been at least - feeling Leo press the medal in the hollow of his throat, the metal hard and cold but warming rapidly.

He blinks dazedly when Leo pulls back, licking his tingling lips.

“Gold looks perfect on you. You should wear it more often.” He caresses his cheek, fingers light and warm. “We’re going to get you another one, and you’ll wear it for me while I fuck you.” His voice is soft but sure, hope threaded through the words, the implication of what that means crystal clear.

Dibu’s breath catches in his throat, at the words, at the promise - the promise of glory, of finally reaching that long awaited peak - at the image Leo’s voice has painted in his mind. Fuck, he wants that so much it burns, his heart aching and his cock throbbing as he imagines what Leo’s face will look like if they win.

“But that’s for the future, isn’t it? I have you here now, and I’m going to make you see stars.”

Dibu nods, reaching out to touch him again. Everything mixes together - Leo’s words and the phantom memory of his foot pressing his face to the floor and the warmth in his tone and the look in his eyes - swirls into a delirious mixture of feelings and sensations that fog up his mind until he’s just a reeling mess of nerves that beg for his touch.

The fingers carding through his hair tug at him, direct his mouth to the gorgeously flushed cock in front of his face and he lets himself be dragged back with a moan. Even through the glorious haze clouding his mind, he knows by now what Leo is telling him to do without having to be told - the softness of his touch, the lack of urgency in his movements, mean that he wants to take his time, that he wants Dibu’s mouth to be equally as soft and slow. 

He lets his tongue trail over the hard length, kissing his way from the base to the tip, letting himself be sloppy and noisy as he worships Leo’s cock.

“Good, Emi, so good,” Leo breathes, and Dibu shivers. 

He could spend eternity here, listening to Leo’s soft sighs, feeling his cock throb under his tongue, tasting him every time he swallows. He noses his way down, until his face is buried between Leo’s legs to mouth at his balls, and Leo lets out a guttural noise, his fingers tightening in his hair. Dibu looks up with glazed eyes, he opens his mouth wider, urged on by the stinging pain in his scalp, and his tongue darts out to lick at him, Leo’s cock pressed to the side of his face and leaving a damp smear on his cheek. He shudders at the look in Leo’s eyes, dark and gleaming, and at the flush he can see spreading from his cheeks down his neck. 

Leo’s fingers reach out to slide over the slick mess on Dibu’s face, tracing the line of his lower lip and then slipping in, until Dibu has to back up a little to give him space. He presses them deeper inside, with enough steady force to tip his head back. Dibu closes his lips around them and sucks, and his eyes tear up as Leo’s hold in his hair turns harsh and stinging and he sinks his digits deeper, forcing him to choke around them. 

The wet, muted sound he can hear himself let out makes his nerves scream, and his eyes droop as Leo does it again, his fingers slipping out just to push back in, dragging against his tongue and then deeper, until his throat spasm around them. He curls his tongue against his knuckles the next time he thrusts them back inside. He sucks them deeper and tries to swallow around them when Leo pushes them in harshly to hear him choke. His cock is leaking in his pants, he can feel them turning damp as he tastes Leo’s skin mixed with his precome, salty and warm and so good that it makes his head spin. The look on Leo’s face is focused and intense.

“You’re already a mess. Pretty cockslut, with a pretty, fuckable mouth.” 

Leo’s voice is raspy, his touch sure and proprietary as he keeps leisurely fucking Dibu’s mouth with his fingers. Dibu’s hand clench around his hips before he lets go, spreading his fingers out to touch as much of him as he’s able to. His mind burns under the waves of shivering humiliation as he feels saliva drip down his chin, and hears the sounds that he's making. It feels like being evaluated, like he’s being asked to prove what he can do with his mouth so that he can earn the privilege of getting Leo’s cock inside of him. 

“Show me how much you want it. Show me how good you’ll be for me.”

Dibu makes a soft, wretched sound, heat roiling in his belly as Leo’s words echo his thoughts. He doesn’t know how he does it, how Leo always manages to say the right thing, the thing that makes him shiver and burn and want to hide his face even as his cock twitches between his thighs.

He jerks his head forwards, pulls against the grip in his hair until his lips are wrapped tight around the base of Leo’s fingers, looking up at him with watering eyes as he makes himself choke around them. 

Leo’s mouth drops open, his eyes wide and dark as he watches Dibu fuck his mouth on his fingers, and his skin flushes an even deeper red when Dibu extends his tongue out the next time he takes them to the base, curls it in a sloppy caress against his palm, the movement opening up his throat and making his fingers slide even deeper. 

He whines when Leo pulls them out of his mouth slowly, and he cannot stop himself from chasing them, his tongue slipping out to leave a sloppy lick at the side of his index.

Leo makes a derisive noise, his lips curling up at the corners, and Dibu shudders, taking a deep breath and swallowing. He can feel the phantom touch of him on the inside of his throat, a slight burn that makes him ache with want for his fingers to be replaced by his cock.

Leo taps him on the cheek, letting go of his hair and inclining his head. Dibu sways forwards, his mouth dragged to Leo’s cock like a magnet, and he lets out a sharp hiss when fingertips drill into his jaw and wrench his head back, making him bare his neck.

He swallows heavily, eyes wide as the harshness of the movement and the strength of the grip have his heart beating faster.

“Not yet. On your feet Emi, I want to see you naked. And I have a present for you.”

Dibu obeys, even if he has to hold onto Leo’s arms not to lose his balance, his legs trembling. He raises an arm to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, but Leo’s fingers close tightly around his wrist and pull it away before he can.

“Don’t. I like seeing you like that.”

Dibu flushes, incredibly aware all of a sudden of how wet his face is; the weight of Leo’s gaze as he scrutinizes him with an appreciative smile threatens to send him back to his knees.

Leo is still holding his hand, and he uses it to tug him towards the foot of the bed. Dibu has some difficulty tearing his eyes away from his naked body, and he jumps a bit when Leo’s fingers slip under his shirt. He shrugs out of his clothes quickly, trying not to get too distracted by Leo's hands, which rove over his skin lazily. 

Once he’s finally naked, Leo steps behind him, presses firmly in the middle of his back - fingers spread wide in a firm, sure touch - and his spine bends as requested until he's kneeling and then laying face down on the bed. Leo’s hand stays where it is, the weight of it so warm and reassuring and solid that Dibu’s head swims, his body melting into the mattress. Leo drags it down his back, fingers brushing gently over his asscheeks and on his upper thigh. Dibu feels his legs fall open at the touch, and he buries his face in the sheets when Leo lets out a soft laugh and then makes him spread them wider until his feet are dangling in the air on either side of the twin bed, his ass completely exposed by his position. He swallows, goosebumps raising on his back, tingling over every inch of his skin exposed to the warm air of the room. 

There’s a puff of damp air on his upper thigh, right under the curve of his ass and he jolts on the bed, his cock dragging against the sheets as he feels the touch of Leo’s lips, hot and wet. Leo runs his hands down the back of his legs in a light caress as he kisses his way to the inside of his thigh, his warm breath dancing on his skin and over his balls in a way that makes him clench his teeth to stop from moaning. He shivers dejectedly when Leo leans back and gets off the bed, and he sharpens his ears, trying to follow his movements through the room. He hears the sound of a zipper being opened, and then the clinking of metal against something hard, not clear and ringing like glass but a little more muted. He guesses hard plastic.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what your present is, darling?” Leo’s voice is amused, a current of dark excitement slithering under his words as he approaches the bed again and crawls back in. 

Dibu swallows. He turns his head to look over his shoulder, to see Leo kneeling back on the bed between his spread legs, his hands behind his back. He’s smiling, his eyes sparkling. Dibu feels his stomach tighten at that look, the knowledge that he’s probably going to love and dread whatever it is in equal parts sinks into his brain. The glint in Leo’s eyes tells him that he’s looking forward to watching him squirm. He feels the fire in his belly burn brighter.

“What did you get me?” He asks in a whisper.

Leo’s smile widens. He takes one of his hands from behind his back, and there’s something big and dark in it. Dibu props himself on an elbow, twisting enough to get a better look, and then he feels his arm almost give out under him when he works out what it is.

It’s a pair of handcuffs. Black, leather if he has to guess, with a stitched gold seam that only seems to make them look darker. The cuffs are wide, simple but sturdy, and they are not tied together; each one has a golden metal ring, thick and gleaming, that connects them to a black strap. 

He lets out a shaking breath and drags his gaze away from the restraints, and he shivers at the possessive look in Leo’s eyes.

“God. I want to make you look at me like that always,” he rasps, and Dibu bites his lower lip, flushing as he imagines exactly how he’s looking at him. He can guess.

Leo curses softly, and lets the cuffs drop from his fingers to the mattress between Dibu’s spread legs. He plants a hand on the mattress by his shoulders and leans down over his back to capture his mouth in a bruising kiss.

Dibu moans, arching his spine to press up against him, his fingers curling into the sheets. Leo shifts, and there’s something cold and smooth pressed against the back of Dibu’s leg. He pulls back, capturing his lower lip between his teeth in a stinging nip, and then he nuzzles their faces together.

“I also have something else,” he whispers in his ear, and the pressure against his leg increases. “Something I know will make you beg, darling.” 

“Fuck. Yes, please,” Dibu whispers, and Leo lowers his head to drop a kiss to the top of his shoulder.

“Don’t you want to know what it is?”

“I can probably guess,” Dibu admits, voice low. 

The shape of it, long and round, the smooth texture, the way it’s absorbing the warmth of his skin. He shudders, his belly twisting with anticipation and something else, something unidentified that squirms restlessly along his nerves. He extends his arms in an instinctive motion, fingers curling around the headboard, waiting for Leo to tie him to it. 

Leo doesn’t though. He lets out a short, bitten off sound and then presses his lips to his shoulder again. The kiss turns into a bite, his teeth closing tight at the base of his neck and making Dibu gasp out a moan. He pulls back and rises to his knees then, to settle himself more comfortably between his spread thighs, and Dibu makes a questioning noise.

“Later. I want to watch you squirm like this, where you can’t deny that you’re taking it because you want to, not because I bound you.” His voice is rough and dark.

Dibu trembles, a surge of anticipation and pleasant trepidation making him take a deep breath. He wonders what Leo has in mind, why he used those words, why he’s predicting this is going to be something Dibu would like to pretend not to enjoy. The list of theories his brain cooks up as he hears Leo shift behind him make his cock throb needily.

By now, the soft click of the lube being opened is like a trigger, and his legs try to spread even wider in a kind of desperate pavlovian response.

He buries his head in the mattress, body tense and eager, a soft sound escaping him as Leo’s fingers, wet with lube, trail up the back of his thigh teasingly, leaving a rapidly cooling smear on his skin that makes him shiver.

He cannot contain the sound he makes as Leo touches him, slick and hot pressure against his hole, and there’s a sort of yawning chasm of want opening up in Dibu’s belly. He pushes back, wanting it so badly, and Leo rewards him with a gentle thrust that opens him up. His finger slips inside, and it’s good, so good, but not enough, and Dibu wriggles under him before he catches himself and stills again.

“Eager, aren’t you?” Leo asks, but he doesn't make him wait too long before another finger joins the first, and Dibu lets out a satisfied moan.

Leo works him open with deliberate, slow movements, and Dibu tries to stop himself from rocking back into his fingers when they scissor inside of him.

“Ah- more, please,” he gasps when Leo finds his prostate, and then he whines low in his throat in protest when the fingers retreat, leaving him unsatisfyingly empty. 

“So needy,” Leo breathes, amused and a little cruel, and then there’s something prodding at his entrance, solid and foreign and pressing just enough to make him feel his hole starting to stretch around it. He lets out a shaky breath, fingers tightening on the headboard in anticipation, but Leo just teases him, pulling it back just when it starts to slip in and then repeating the motions until Dibu feels himself shake.

“So beautiful,” Leo’s voice is soft, and Dibu doesn’t know if he’s talking about him, or about the sight of the toy working his hole open. He doesn’t know which one he would prefer, both options make his blood thrum through his veins.

“Ah-” The jagged noise slips out of his open mouth without his permission as Leo finally stops tormenting him and he feels the toy breach him, the head of it strangely shaped in a way that pulls at his rim, that makes him clench his teeth and swallow at the unfamiliarity of the sensation. He lets out a stuttered gasp, and he tries to picture it in his mind, tries to understand its shape.

It’s different. 

Much thinner than Leo’s cock - although wide enough that the feeling of the stretch makes him groan softly, a purring sensation of satisfaction crawling up his spine - and stiffer, the material unyielding as his channel gives way to its advance. A little cooler than body temperature, the mixture of smooth plastic and slick lube makes him clench his hands around the headboard bar, a little disorientated. It’s slightly wider than two fingers, and his hole burns as it opens up around it - because Leo knows how he likes it, knows how much he craves the stretch of it - but not as much as he’d like. It’s good, and it only gets better as it reaches deeper. He takes in a gasping breath, shifting his hips to accommodate the motion. It’s not straight, there’s a curve at the top of it that drags against his walls, makes him arch his spine as the stretch of it sinks deeper inside of him. 

He’s panting.

The contrast between the rigid artificiality of the toy Leo has slipped inside of him and the warmth of his hand on his hip makes him shudder. His face is burning, a zing of humiliation flashes along his nerves every time he breathes - every time the toy shifts inside of him - and he doesn’t know why. There’s something in the way it feels that makes him want to hide his face against the mattress, that burns in the pit of his belly in that sharp stinging way he’s gotten used to when Leo plays with him like this, but he wouldn’t be able to explain why if asked.

He gasps out a moan when Leo stops the long, slow push inside of him once it bottoms out.

“How does it feel, Emi?” Leo asks. 

“G-good,” he stutters, and his face burns hotter.

“Oh?” Leo prods, nudging his fingers against the base teasingly and making him jolt on the bed. His voice is quiet, but Dibu can hear the leading edge in it, and something tells him that Leo knows. Knows the confused, mixed feeling he’s having. Knows why it is so, even as Dibu has only a vague idea.

“Good, it’s good but… It feels… I don’t-”

“Feels degrading doesn’t it?” Leo whispers, and his breathing is quick and harsh. Dibu shudders.

“Because it’s not what you want, not really. You’d prefer my cock wouldn’t you? You’d rather have me, but you’re not going to tonight." Dibu closes his eyes tightly, his breath trembling in his throat and his belly twisting with disappointment and anticipation in equal parts. "You're going to have to content yourself with this. Because I want you to, because you’ll look spectacular writhing on a plastic toy, because you’re so hungry for it that you’ll take anything. Because you’ll take it for me, you always take what I offer you, and you do it so sweetly.”

Dibu chokes out a wretched sound, his hole tightening around the smooth plastic in a way that’s so good and yet so disappointing, and he feels the slick object get pulled deeper inside at the movement, pressing harder against his prostate and making him keen.

“Yes,” he gasps, “please Leo, ah-”

Leo lets out an amused murmur. He’s right. The shiver of embarrassment and mortification intensifies, slithering under his skin. 

The toy is… hot and cold, intimate and incredibly detached - undeniably artificial. It creates a layer, a degree of separation between them that only highlights how incredibly done to Dibu feels. Everything feels one step removed from Leo’s touch, like something that’s being done to him, instead of something they are doing together. The sensations slithers through his mind in a shamefully pleasant way. 

Leo pulls it out of him slowly, and Dibu cannot get over how different it feels from his cock, easy and smooth, no drag to it at all, and then he pushes it back inside in a single thrust - neither slow nor fast, but at just the right speed to leave Dibu unbalanced, unable to get used to it or to get overwhelmed by it. And then it’s pressed deep again, the head of it flatter and curved in a way that cradles his prostate, the texture different from the smoothness of the shaft - almost rubbery. 

Once it’s entirely inside of him - his hole clenching helplessly around the flared base - Leo pulls his hands away, from the toy and from his hip, and Dibu’s body erupts into goosebumps as he’s left alone with it. The feeling sharpens. It feels like an invasion, like a lovely violation, and he's sure now that Leo has chosen this kind of toy specifically for this, instead of going for a more realistic one, just because he knew how Dibu would react to it. He counted on it, and that thought leaves him panting and shaky with desperate arousal.

“Please,” he whispers, unsure of what exactly he’s begging for. His voice is thready, uncertain, the word trembling on his tongue.

“Color?” Leo asks, and Dibu blurts out green before he even finishes speaking.

Leo mutters something that Dibu cannot make out and then he leans over him to press a kiss to the base of his spine, and Dibu can feel how quick and shallow his breathing is.

“You are so fucking beautiful, Emi,” he whispers, nipping at his skin, and Dibu closes his eyes tightly.

The stark contrast between Leo’s hot, pulsing cock pressed against his asscheek, and the unfamiliar, artificial toy lodged deep inside of him makes him shudder. 

“Up now,” Leo says, patting him on the ass, and Dibu looks back at him, uncomprehending. “I want you sitting at the top of the bed, back against the headboard. I’m going to fuck your throat.”

Dibu feels the hair rise all over his body, and he scrambles gracelessly to comply, the rush of that order almost making him forget about the toy. Almost. He’s sharply reminded of it as he rises on his knees, as the movement makes it jolt inside of him and hit his prostate.

Leo laughs, low and amused, at the stuttering gasp Dibu lets out. He flushes, taking more care as he crawls to the top of the bed. Once he’s there, he turns around to find that Leo has followed him closely, and they are face to face. The glint in Leo’s dark eyes makes his hands shake, and he waits for him to tell him what to do.

Leo reaches behind him to plop a couple of pillows against the headboard, and then he pushes him gently down until he’s half-sitting, half-reclining against them, head braced against the headboard. Once he has positioned him exactly how he wants, he taps the back of Dibu’s hand with his knuckles. Dibu swallows and offers him his wrists immediately, hands loosely curled into fists. Leo’s mouth twitches up in a satisfied smile, and he grabs the handcuffs, the clicking noise making Dibu’s cock jerk against his lower belly.

“Good,” he murmurs as he takes his wrists in hand. 

He opens the buckle of the cuff and slips it over his hand, guiding it down until it’s wrapped around Dibu’s wrist. The band is wide, it covers one-quarter of his forearm starting from the base of his palm, the inside padded and soft, the outside dark and with the gleaming shine of well-oiled leather. Dibu’s pulse jumps as Leo tightens the strap and buckles it, and the soft touch turns into uniform pressure, not too tight but comforting and grounding. He watches Leo repeat the process with his other wrist, his brows furrowed in concentration, mouth slightly parted. His movements are slow and precise, his fingers gentle and warm, occasionally reaching out to leave a fleeting caress against his skin. 

Once he’s done, Dibu’s mind feels slow and easy, and he brings his hands up without needing to be prompted. Leo smiles at him and reaches up to fasten the dangling straps of each cuff to the headboard bar, on either side of his head, shortening the loop until Dibu’s range of motion is completely restricted.

“Go on,” he says as he leans back with a smirk, “I know you want to give it a try.”

Dibu swallows, unable to tear his gaze away from him, and pulls. His breath leaves him in a sharp exhale, fingers curling into his palms as his arms jerk to a stop immediately. His eyes widen, a tug of lust pulling taut in the pit of his stomach.

Leo cups his face between his palms and tilts it up to press a kiss to his open mouth, tongue slipping inside leisurely, sinking Dibu’s mind deeper in the hazy fog that coils around his senses. He pulls back then, his hands sliding down his chest, tugging playfully at the medal that’s still hanging from his neck, until they wrap around his waist.

“Move as I tell you,” he murmurs, and Dibu nods. He would never dream of doing otherwise. 

Leo makes him move his legs until he’s almost cross-legged, one bent further than the other, and settles him in a comfortable position that helps him relax back against the pillows, secure in the fact that he won’t slide down the bed. The movements jostle the toy inside of him, and he has to bite his tongue to contain the whine he wants to let out. Leo shushes him distractedly, his gaze roving over his body as he positions him how he prefers, hands tightening around his hips as he makes him arch his back a little, reaching down between his legs to grasp the base of the toy and nudge it until it’s braced against the mattress, spearing up into him and supported enough that it won't slip out or move to much. Dibu gasps, his vision lighting up as it presses insistently against his prostate, the pressure maddening.

Leo leans back on his knees, hands resting on Dibu’s thighs as he surveys him with an approving, proprietary gaze, and Dibu can feel his entire body ache with the desire to arch up into his touch, skin tingling.

“Perfect. You look like a dream.”

Dibu smiles up at him, dazed. His heart is beating a tattoo against his ribs, and he wants to thank Leo - for the compliment, for what he’s doing to him, for how he’s making him feel - but the words don’t come.

Leo knee-walks gracefully over him until he’s poised over his chest, his cock hanging over Dibu’s face, flushed a gorgeous red and shining with precome. Dibu’s mouth waters, and he leans forwards instinctively, pressing a kiss to the tip and then opening his mouth to take him inside.

“A-ha,” Leo tuts at him, grasping his chin between his fingers to pull him back slightly. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Please, please Leo, let me suck your cock,” he breathes immediately, eyes drooping. Leo inhales sharply, his gaze darkening as he licks his lower lip.

“Not what I meant, but that…” He tilts his head, eyes at half mast. “That was delightful.”

Dibu’s face burns at the amusement in his voice. “Then… what-”

Leo raises an eyebrow. “Your hands are tied. Your mouth is about to be very busy,” he smirks. “Tell me darling, how are you going to tell me if you want me to stop?”

Dibu blinks. He hadn’t thought of that. He hesitates, because he’s sure there’s a right answer here - Leo would never put him in a position he could not get away from if he needed to - but his brain is slow and sluggish.

“I don’t know,” he admits, voice low. The idea of not being able to escape burns brightly in the center of his mind, makes his cock throb, but he knows that’s not something Leo would ever do. The illusion of it is enough, though, and he tilts his head in askance, waiting for Leo to tell him how.

“Snap your fingers.”

Dibu does, and the sound is crisp and clear.

“Good boy. I want you to remember that. Do that if you need a break.”

“Yes Leo,” he breathes, and his heart quickens as Leo smiles at him and reaches forwards to slip his fingers through his hair in a tender caress. 

“One last thing.” 

He reaches back to grab something from the foot of the bed and then he presses it into his left hand. Dibu’s fingers close around something small and round. His brows furrow and then his eyes go wide when Leo curls his fingers around his and makes him press the slightly raised button in the center of it.

The toy in his ass comes alive, a low constant vibration that drags a startled gasp from his mouth, the buzz of it right up against his prostate and spreading through him in slow waves. He jerks his head to look up at Leo incredulously, mouth falling open around a whimper.

“God. Your face is…” Leo rasps, swallowing heavily. His fingers tighten in his hair. He takes a controlled breath to compose himself. “That’s the lowest setting. You will press that button if I tell you, every time I tell you to.” Dibu processes that, and a wave of want washes through him. He nods, eyes still wide. “Good. You won’t come until I am done with your mouth.”

Dibu whimpers, because he already feels so good - the toy inside of him stretching him deliciously, the vibrations resonating through his bones, the firm pressure against his wrists enough to make him dizzy, and soon he’ll have Leo’s cock inside of him. He’ll try, he’ll do his best, but he’s not certain he’ll manage. 

As always, Leo’s orders make his job more difficult. Every time he tells him not to come Dibu feels himself get closer. Having Leo be the one in charge of his pleasure like this really makes controlling himself that much harder.

“Yes,” he gasps. “Yes, Leo but-” His voice is trembling, and he’s pleading with his eyes.

“No excuses,” Leo interrupts him. “I know you can do it.” He brushes his fingers against his cheek and his tone softens. “If you are good for me, you’ll get to fuck my thighs after. How does that sound?”

Dibu moans, his cock spurting precome against his belly, his heart skipping a beat as heat floods his entire body. Fuck. That’s… Thats simultaneously the best fucking incentive Dibu has ever heard - he loves Leo’s thighs, he could spend the rest of his life worshipping them - and the worst thing Leo could have said to help him keep control of himself.

“Leo- thank you,” he stutters. “Yes, yes, please.”

Leo nods, his eyes so dark and so hungry, and he comes closer until the tip of his cock bumps against Dibu’s panting mouth.

“Open up for me.”

Dibu lets his mouth fall open, and Leo presses inside with a firm stroke, all confidence and assertiveness, like Dibu’s mouth is his property, and he can do with it as he pleases.

He moans, his eyes fluttering shut as the weight of his cock presses against his tongue, his jaw open wide. He closes his lips around him and sucks, and for a brief moment everything else disappears in the burst of want and need and the taste of Leo on his tongue again.

Leo starts moving slowly, his cock slipping in and out of his mouth unhurriedly, and Dibu shifts his head slightly, tries to find the perfect position that will let Leo go as fast, as deep as he likes. If he concentrates very hard and stays very still he can almost ignore the toy, the buzzing constant but low intensity.

Leo sighs letting his head fall back as he puts a hand on his shoulder and deepens his thrusts, still slow and lazy, but the head of his cock bumps against the back of Dibu’s throat, and Dibu’s vision lights up every time it does.

“Go on, press it,” Leo murmurs, dragging his fingertips roughly through Dibu’s hair.

Dibu does and his belly tightens as the toy jumps inside of him - a faster rhythm, a stronger pulse - and Dibu twitches and moans and takes Leo’s cock deeper, mouth hungry and wet.

His eyes start to sting with unshed tears, and he makes a plaintive sound, his tongue curling pleadingly against his shaft, and Leo gives him what he wants, grabbing his hair tight and pushing his head back against the headboard as he sinks deeper inside of him, breathing heavily.

Dibu takes it with a muted sound of satisfaction, and Leo gasps out a short laugh that makes his skin burn. The toy feels wonderful now, wave after wave of delicious pleasure rushing through him constantly, and he hollows his cheeks gratefully.

“Do you like it?” Leo asks, his voice hitching as Dibu sucks him deeper. “A little toy for my pretty toy.” Dibu whines frantically at his words, humiliation licking like a curling flame through his veins. “You look so unbelievably amazing right now Emi, I want to see more. Again.” 

Leo's voice is sharp and demanding, and Dibu’s fingers tighten immediately around the remote. He arches up, and Leo takes advantage of his debilitation to push his cock into his spasming throat, letting out a low groan as the vibrations of Dibu’s keen travel up the length of his cock.

“Fuck,” Leo bites out, and then he speeds up, his hips moving in long, smooth thrusts as he finally starts fucking Dibu’s mouth in earnest.

Dibu sobs around his cock, saliva dripping from his used mouth to pool on his neck and chest; his eyes keep threatening to roll back into his head and he has to force them not to, because he loves watching Leo as he uses his mouth. He shifts, his cock desperately aching, twisting his hips as he tries to get away from the delicious torture of the toy, because he’s getting close, and he has made a promise to Leo that he intends to keep.

Leo pulls sharply at his hair, his nails digging into his shoulder. “Do not move, stay where I put you. Take it for me Emi, be good for me,” he moans, and Dibu whines and complies, surrenders to the pleasure and lets his hips fall back, his shout strangled by Leo’s cock as the brutal pressure returns against his prostate, the pulsing fast and strong and constant.

It’s too much and simultaneously not enough - too-much, too-sharp pleasure, not enough stretch, not enough warmth, not Leo, not Leo, not Leo - and he sobs, taking in a heaving breath as Leo’s cock pulls out of his mouth abruptly.

“Again,” he says, voice raspy, eyes dark and wide as he watches him intently, his face flushed.

Dibu’s fingers tighten, and this time there’s nothing in his mouth to stop the cry that he lets out as his back arches in a desperate, instinctive motion at the bright flash of pleasure that rushes through him.

“Good boy,” Leo whispers, and then his cock is back in his mouth and he starts fucking him again, and it’s glorious, leaves Dibu feeling so used, strung between him and the toy and he starts crying, the tears mixing with the rest of the mess on his face.

The vibrations are so strong now that even his bones are buzzing with it, and the rhythm changes again, becoming unpredictable and disorienting and he struggles against it, cuffs pulling taut as he tries to gasp but can’t because Leo’s cock is nestled deep in his throat. 

Leo groans, long and low, and Dibu fights to open his eyes, because he wants to see, he wants to know if his expression looks as good as his noises of pleasure sound. It does. Even through the haze of tears distorting his vision, Leo’s face is a dream - teeth gleaming as he bites his lower lip, brow furrowed, head thrown back, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the strong column of his neck as he swallows.

He pulls out to let him breathe, his head dropping down and he fixes his stare into Dibu’s eyes, his chest heaving.

“Perfect,” he moans, and then he reaches out and touches the palm of his free hand. “Remember to snap if you need to,” he says, and it’s half-warning, half-order, and Dibu’s eyes widen in excitement as he nods as well as he can.

Leo’s hand winds into his hair to tip his head back and then he pushes forwards, leading with his cock until he’s pinning his head to the headboard with his hips, his length sheathed completely in his throat. 

Dibu has nowhere to go, he can’t pull back, he hasn’t got enough leverage to move in any direction and his hands are bound. He feels a wave of lust and trepidation shiver through him and raise every single hair on his body as he finds himself forced still, trying desperately to swallow around him as his brain registers his utter helplessness.

Leo holds himself there for a long, utterly brain-melting second, and then he starts to move. 

He works his cock through the sheath of his throat in a slow, grinding motion, never pulling out, and Dibu’s dick throbs, and he squeezes his eyes shut as cool tears slide down his cheeks. He’s completely at the mercy of Leo’s cock - hot and throbbing and alive in his throat - and the toy - smooth and alien and pulsing in his ass - and he’s being made still, being made to take it as Leo likes it, and he tries to swallow, to do anything, but Leo’s motions are implacable and he’s so big that his throat just spasms helplessly around him.

He sobs around it as it pulls out, lets his tongue trail against the silky, slick skin as it slips out of his mouth and he gasps in a much needed breath. Leo gives him just enough time to do so before he pushes back in, and as soon as he’s buried to the hilt again he growls, “Again.”

Dibu obeys helplessly, his tone crackling sharply against his nerves, and he lets out a cracked, unformed sound that only lets Leo’s cock sink deeper inside of him as the toy starts vibrating so harshly that his entire body tenses, fever-hot and trembling.

The worst part - the best part, what makes him burn with humiliation - is the fact that essentially, he’s doing this to himself.

It’s his fingers that control the button, that choose to press it every time and with barely any hesitation despite knowing what it will do to him. The fact that he doesn’t ever refuse, that Leo has such complete control of him that he can put the object that will tear him apart in his hand and be sure that Dibu will use it at his command… He shudders, his throat convulsing around Leo’s cock, his back arching and pushing back into the toy.

Leo’s grip in his hair tightens, holding his head still. His other hand is clenched around the headboard, bicep flexing as he uses it to get the leverage he needs to grind his cock as deep as he can inside of him, panting harshly, letting out a sharp, bitten off sound that almost sounds like a growl. 

From where he’s pinned - head tilted back and pressed against the headboard, jaw aching as it’s forced wide - Dibu’s glazed eyes can only make out the glorious length of Leo’s torso, muscles thrown in sharp relief as his entire body rocks forwards, the trembling movement of his Adam’s apple in his extended throat, the way the muscles in his jaw bunch up as he swallows. Dibu tries to moan, a sharp stab of desperate lust in the pit of his stomach, but he can’t.

Leo keeps working his cock through the spasming channel of Dibu’s throat until he feels dizzy, his lungs aching, his mind fuzzy and slow from oxygen deprivation - awash with excitement and a sliver of fear at not being able to breathe, pinned between Leo’s hips and the headboard, the knowledge that his entire being is completely and utterly in Leo’s hands, under his control.

It feels like he’s floating, sinking, falling.

Down, down, down from the surface of his mind until he goes under and every sensation blends together - Leo’s cock bruising his throat from the inside, the toy shifting inside him, pressing insistently against his prostate every time his body twitches, the feeling of his arms jerking still as he thrashes a little, Leo’s fingers pulling at his hair.

“Gorgeous, gorgeous, perfect. Your mouth is always so good, you are always so good for me,” Leo moans, his voice sharp and jagged and distorted to Dibu’s hearing by the blood rushing in his ears. His vision is swimming - Leo’s glorious, pleasure-twisted face going in and out of focus. His bones resonate with the force of the vibrations, his hole twitching helplessly, desperately around the cruelly uncaring toy, and he’s so close, so close.

Leo pulls out of his throat harshly, and Dibu is so far gone that it takes him a long second to react, gasping in a giant, heaving breath, the air icy-cold and sharp, and he’s sobbing, Leo’s name and a litany of garbled, incomprehensible words that grate against his abused flesh.

“Please, Leo, please, I need- I have to- Please let me-” he slurs, and Leo looks down at him fiercely, expression tight and snarling, one of his hands wrapped, white-knuckled, around the base of his cock.

Dibu keens, his mind awash with a kind of delighted, ecstatic pleasure at the knowledge that he’s being good, that it was good enough that it had Leo on the edge of coming before he was ready.

“No.”

The clipped word lashes against his skin like fire, and he writhes, swallowing painfully, squirming around the unyielding, indifferent toy Leo is torturing him with.

“You’d like that, though, wouldn’t you?” Leo rasps. “Are you going to come from it? Just the stretch, the solid weight of it in you, the vibrations… Not my cock but my doing, your pleasure hanging in my grasp? Will you disobey, will you let me make you disobey? I could tell you to go further, I could. What would it feel like? You want my cock so badly, Emi, what would it feel like if I dragged you to the edge and beyond without it?” 

Leo’s voice is rough and harsh, his words coming quickly and running together, until Dibu feels he could come just from them, just by following the crescendo of his tone, the shaking in his voice.

“Please, please,” he begs desperately, voice raw and wrecked, his body arching towards him in a silent plea.

“What would it feel like, answer me.”

“Bad, good, Leo,” he slurs. “It would feel good because it’s you doing it to me, ah-” he cries as his body jerks involuntarily, grinding down against the toy in a sharp motion that threatens to tear him apart, his wrist hurting as he fights against the restraint, the edge digging into his skin and reminding him that he can’t escape, that he has to take it, and the knowledge burns like fire in his stomach, in his throbbing cock. He sobs, the sound strangled in his aching throat but he pushes through because Leo has asked him a question, and that’s enough for Dibu to find the strength to continue. “It would be awful because I'd be thinking of what I don't get to have. It would feel better because it would be bad, because it would be you taking something away that I want so badly, and I’d let you, I’d let you.” He opens his eyes wide, looking at Leo like he has the keys to Dibu's soul - because he does, because he could do anything to him and Dibu would thank him for it.

Leo exhales harshly, eyes so dark Dibu could fall into them and never emerge again. He leans forwards as much as he can, letting out a sharp cry, tears squeezed out of his eyes as the movement lodges the toy even harder against his prostate, but he persists until he manages to brush his panting mouth against the head of Leo’s cock.

“But I'm going to be good, I promise, I promise, I won’t come. Let me have your cock Leo, please. Let me prove it to you.” His words are barely coherent, slurring and muddled, but Leo reacts to them like he shouted them.

He grips his chin roughly, slips his thumb over his swollen lower lip and jerks his jaw open as he shoves his cock back into Dibu’s willing, desperate mouth with a bitten off sound, wild and dark, that makes Dibu’s muscles tighten all over.

“Yes, yes,” he hisses, eyes slitted and piercing even as his mouth fights not to go slack with pleasure. “You are, you are so good, you deserve everything you want, so good for me, my beautiful slut.” 

It sounds like the words are dragged out of his lungs, and Dibu fights with all he has - pulling at the restraints, digging his nails into his palms, trying to lift himself a bit from the torturous vibration of the toy to not come on the spot at the way the praise lights his blood on fire. He opens his mouth wider, lets Leo grind his cock as deep as he wants and wraps his lips tight around the base of him. The knowledge that Leo has shoved so deep inside him - that he’s using the spasming muscles of his throat to work the head of his cock like Dibu is a human fleshlight - drops him so deep inside of his mind that his vision goes dark at the edges. 

“You are so fucking beautiful Emi,” Leo snarls, voice hoarse and words so jumbled together as to be almost indecipherable. “My champion, mine, mine, ah-”

Dibu feels him get rougher, hand tightening in his hair and around his jaw, filthy, honey-sweet words still falling from his trembling lips, his cock pulsing and pulsing until the drag of it against the walls of his throat lessens and Dibu realizes that the slick-hot-wet feeling that’s smoothing out the little twitching motions inside of him is his come.

He swallows, pure satisfaction bursting in his chest because he’s done it, he made Leo come and he hasn't, he hasn’t - and he’s good, he’s been good and Leo is petting his face with gentle trembling fingers as he pulls out of him, and he swallows in an icy breath, and then there’s lips pressed against his, and Leo’s tongue slipping in, and Dibu feels so good and so wrecked and he’s gasping, begging.

“Please, pleaspleaseplease, I can’t-'' he cries, because the toy is still inside of him, still buzzing harshly and unpredictably, threatening to turn his brain to mush, but Leo just keeps kissing him as he begs.

“You can, you can, just a little longer love, take it just a while longer for me,” he pants in his mouth, and then he drinks Dibu’s desperate pleas from his lips as he kisses him deep and filthy.

Dibu tries, and fights it, and snarls against his mouth as he twists under him, and he’s never been more desperate in his fucking life and he loves it, he it loves it, he loves it.

Leo bites at his lips, his breathing fast and shaky and then Dibu feels his fingers being pried open and the awful, glorious source of his torture is taken out of his hand and the vibrations stop abruptly.

He goes limp immediately, every muscle turning into liquid, his mouth falling open in a mute cry of mingled relief and disappointment and he almost, almost misses it. His cock is a sweet, painful tangle of aching desire on his belly, and he’s so close it hurts .

Leo cradles his head between his palms, presses their foreheads together, and Dibu blinks dazedly to clear his vision and he feels his heart soar at the look in his eyes.

“See, I told you you could. I knew you could. You are so obedient for me love, you follow my orders so well.” Dibu feels so high that reality warps around him. Leo swipes the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs futilely because they are replaced by others immediately. “Fuck, you're gorgeous. I want to make you cry like this forever, you are so sweet.” He presses their mouths together, a chaste warm kiss, just the brushing of lips. “Relax for me Emi, you did so good, I’ve got you.”

Dibu trembles in his grasp, and kisses him desperately. Leo reciprocates, matching his intensity at first before he takes control away from him and slows it down, his tongue moving languidly against his, their breathing falling in sync and gradually slowing down. He kisses him like that - sweet and without urgency - until Dibu settles back into his body, until he doesn’t feel a second away from flying apart.

Leo pulls back slowly, his eyes glazed and so very warm, and Dibu feels a vast, almost overwhelming feeling of peace slithering under his skin, and his mind is light and open, and he thinks he might be satisfied with just this, if Leo decided not to let him come. He still wants, so much it burns , but he feels so good, and he opens his mouth and tells him so, words slurred and barely coherent. He wants to let him know, because he has to know how fucking perfect Dibu feels right now.

Leo smiles at him, the expression making his face glow like it’s lit from the inside and he pulls him into another kiss like he cannot help himself. “I’m so happy, Emi. Thank you for telling me,” he whispers, and Dibu’s skin tingles pleasantly, his chest full of joy. “I’m going to let you come though, because you deserve it, and because you look so good when you do.”

He leans back and brushes his hands down his arms, over his chest, a mindless caress that grounds Dibu even more, his skin always so hungry for his touch. His fingers play a little with the gold medal - Dibu had almost forgotten its presence, and the memory of today, of Leo’s face when he had lifted the cup, rushes through him and just makes him feel so happy he could burst - and then he bends down to drop a kiss on it, presses it against his sternum with his lips, and then his hands travel lower, careful not to touch his weeping cock, until they reach the base of the toy.

Dibu flinches, a stuttering breath escaping him as Leo takes it in a firm grip and nudges his hip with his other hand to make him arch his back. He pulls it out of him slowly, staring at him in the eyes as the toy works its way out of him and leaves him trembling.

He gasps as it slips out, feeling strangely bereft.

Despite the fact that it’s not the biggest thing he’s ever had - not even close - he feels so open and so slick, his walls swollen and tender despite the lack of friction there had been, his hole wrecked just by the torturous vibration. Leo presses his fingertips to his rim in a gentle caress and Dibu is so sensitive that he lets out a harsh little cry.

“Pretty,” Leo murmurs distractedly, and then his fingers slip inside of him, and the difference between them and the toy is so startlingly immense that it makes Dibu’s head spin.

Leo leaves a fleeting caress against his abused prostate before he pulls them out, and Dibu flinches, the sensation registering as a wave of pleasure so sharp it cuts him, leaves him breathless.

He’s so lost in trying to recover from that, that he notices Leo’s movements only when his stomach flinches as the toy gets dropped on it, body-warm and wet, lying parallel to his weeping cock. His chin drops to his chest, and he gazes down at it for the first time.

It’s long, white and gleaming with lube, a thin light blue line swirling around the shaft in a smokey, flowing pattern. The size is what Dibu had assumed - a bit wider than two fingers - the head flatter and slightly concave, the perfect shape to curl against his prostate.

Dibu cannot tear his eyes away from the sight of it - from Leo’s finger wrapped loosely around the base of it - and he feels his stomach clench. He doesn’t know if he loves it or hates it more. 

“I’m guessing I can keep it then. You looked like you enjoyed getting taken apart by it.”

Leo’s words make his stomach jump, dread and anticipation and humiliation bubbling in his stomach at the thought that he will do this to him again. He looks up but he’s unable to hold Leo’s gaze, his cheeks burning, and he has to look away from the delight shining in his eyes.

“Yes,” he whispers, and then he whimpers when Leo nudges the toy against his cock teasingly, making his hips twitch up in an involuntary movement, seeking more contact.

Leo takes pity on him and withdraws it, letting it drop carelessly at the end of the bed. He reaches up then, leaning against the top of his shoulder, and Dibu makes a questioning noise, tilting his head back to try to figure out what he’s doing.

He blinks, surprised to find that he had actually forgotten that he was tied up. His arms hang limp in the handcuffs, fingers loosely curled inwards. He had gotten so used to the uselessness of them - to the fact that the cuffs represent Leo’s wish for him not to use them - that his brain seems to remember he, in fact, has arms only now. He swallows dryily. The thought makes his head spin, his mind going hazy again at the reminder of how he reacts to having Leo be in control of him.

He watches Leo’s fingers dance against the black leather - the contrast beautiful and captivating - until his arms drop down as the buckles loosen. Leo takes a hold of both of his wrists and brings them down until Dibu’s hands are resting on his chest. 

“Open and close them,” he says, tapping on his knuckles with his fingertips, and he hums approvingly as Dibu does as he’s told. “How is it?” 

Dibu tries to focus. The fingers of his left hands ache from how tightly he had been holding on to the remote, and there’s a circular indentation in the palm of his hand that mirrors the curve of it perfectly. His wrists are warm, the skin slightly red from friction and tingling pleasantly under Leo’s touch. There’s a sore spot under the base of his right palm, a welt forming where the edge of the cuff had bit into his skin when he had thrashed, unable to stay still. He watches, captivated, as Leo traces it with the edge of his thumb, and his cock twitches. He hopes that it will bruise.

“Good,” he croaks, wincing as his throat protests and then feeling a rush of satisfaction when the assortment of aches in his entire body - his throat, his ass, his wrist, his scalp - sings under his skin as he stretches a little. 

Leo brings his hand up to drop a kiss on the abused skin, his lips curving into a satisfied smile. “Can you move? I need some space,” he says when he pulls back.

Dibu tilts his head in confusion but nods, propping himself on his elbows to pull himself up from his half-leaning positions and letting out a hiss as his ass protests with a pleasurable twinge. He gets on his knees, swallowing harshly as his cock bobs in the air, and he has to stab his nails into his palm to stop himself from grabbing it, the need to come suddenly impossible to ignore. He moves to the side, fighting to keep his balance as he almost falls off the bed, and he watches Leo crawl forwards, tilting his head to the side to figure out what he’s doing.

It's only when he sees Leo sweep the pillows to the floor in order to lay down on the mattress on his belly, that he remembers the promise that had been made to him. He exhales sharply, his cock throbbing between his legs as he watches Leo wriggle until he’s positioned exactly how he wants, sprawled languidly over the sheets, his arms crossed under his chin, his bicep flexing as he tilts his head to rest his cheek against it.

“Well then,” he says, smiling lazily up at him, looking like the most beautiful thing Dibu has ever seen. “Don’t you want to come, Emi?”

His legs fall open, slow and inviting, and Dibu swallows against the knot in his throat as his gaze locks onto his thighs - smooth and tempting and gorgeous. He wants to lick them.

He finds himself swaying forwards instinctively, swinging his leg so that he’s straddling him, crawling on top of him until he’s hovering over his back, hands braced on either side of his ribcage, and then he stops, uncertain.

“How…” he whispers, and closes his eyes tightly as Leo laughs at him gently.

“You can figure it out I think, Emi,” he sing-songs, mouth curled into a smirk. “I believe in you.”

Dibu flushes, mortified, but those words - even when said in a mocking jab at him - fill his chest with a kind of tremulous pride that just makes him flush deeper.

He lowers himself gingerly to his elbows, biting his lips as the head of his cock brushes against Leo’s ass, and then he shifts until his legs are tangled with Leo’s, and Leo opens his wider and arches a little, looking at him patiently over his shoulders, expression relaxed and fond.

“You don't need lube, you're wet enough,” he says. 

He’s right. Dibu’s cock is dripping on his skin, and he flushes as he guides himself home, feels the mess he’s making of his thighs as his cock slips between them, and then he thinks nothing at all because the sensation hits his brain like a bomb going off.

His hips jerk forwards of their own accord and he has to grit his teeth to stop from begging. He slides forwards, and then pulls back and he’s so overwhelmed that he has to stop, his arms trembling, fingers twisting in the sheets. 

He doesn’t understand. 

Doing this… It should feel like having control, like having Leo at his mercy and using him but it doesn’t. It would if it was Leo doing it to him, he’s sure - it had when it had been Leo doing it to him - but now…

The relaxed line of his shoulders, the confident way in which he had rolled over, positioned himself, beckoned him closer.

The way he’s looking at him now, with a sated smile on his lips, his eyes half-lidded and proprietary.

It feels like a gift. Dibu doesn’t know how Leo always manages to make him feel like this. It’s incredible, addicting.

“Take your time, drag it out, Emi.” 

Dibu takes in a shaky breath and whispers his understanding. He’s so incredibly grateful that Leo has ordered him to, because it forces him to go slow, forces him to savor it and it’s so good that it makes the muscles in his neck go loose and lax. Leo’s thighs are so soft when he’s relaxed like this, smooth and warm and lovely. The pillowy flesh envelops his cock in a way that makes something indescribable tremble in the back of Dibu’s mind, all slick friction and soft, glorious pressure. He works his hips in slow, long thrusts, his mouth falling open around a choked whimper, and it’s so good that he’s crying again. Every time he moves he can feel his hole clench, the feeling reminding him of what Leo had put him through, and he’s breathing fast and shallow.

He watches with glazed eyes the sway of the medal hanging from his neck, the gleaming shine of it as it swings with his every movement, the gold brushing against the creamy skin of Leo’s back almost lovingly - like it knows that’s where it belongs, like it knows Leo is the worthiest owner of it. 

Dibu moans, lets his hand drag down Leo’s side reverently. He feels such a strong surge of kinship with it. Leo owns him as well, he belongs to him as much as every gold medal he has ever won. 

He wrenches his eyes open as Leo lets out an encouraging murmur, and the sight of his face - calm and open and a little amused, his eyes at half mast, skin glowing - makes his heart skip a beat. He lowers himself enough to press his panting mouth against the side of his neck. 

“Thank you,” he whispers into the damp skin there, tasting salt on his tongue. “Thank you Leo, you feel so good.” His breath hitches in his chest, and there’s what he thinks are tears of gratitude pooling in his eyes.

Leo’s smile is wider now, and the amusement in his expression is clear. “Of course darling,” he drawls, and the look in his eyes - fond and a bit mocking, like Dibu is a beloved pet he’s indulging - steals the breath from his lungs and sends a sharp stab of humiliation through his gut.

“You’re going to come all over me,” he murmurs, a sly smirk on his gorgeous lips. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Mark your territory, make sure you’re the only one who has me like this?”

Dibu bites back a moan. There's a white-hot surge of possessiveness rushing through his entire body, but it clashes with a sharp stab of shame - cold and grating and not pleasant - because that’s not his place, not when they are playing like this, he shouldn’t… 

His hips stutter, and his hand twitches, wanting to close in a fist as his heart clenches. “Sorry,” he gasps. “Sorrysorry, Leo,” he whimpers.

“Shh,” Leo whispers, and he uncrosses his arms to grab his wrist. His fingers trace the red marks there, and Dibu settles a bit. “Of course you can, darling. I love putting my marks on you.” The edge of his nail digs lightly into the spot that aches the most, waking up the pain until it rushes bright and lovely under his skin. “I love wearing your marks on me.” His voice is affectionate, the look in his eyes hot and tender. “Come on love, make me feel how much you want me. Mark me up.”

Dibu shudders, his back bowing under the wave of relief that washes over him. He’s not being bad, Leo wants this, likes him being possessive like this, he’s going to let him come all over his skin.

He makes a rough, garbled sound that hurts his throat as it comes out of him when Leo shifts under him, reaches back to grab the medal dangling from his neck and winds the ribbon around his hand, shortening it and pulling Dibu down on top of him with a sharp jerk. He loses his breath as the silky cord goes taut - like a leash, like Leo’s power over him made manifest - biting a line of friction against the back of his neck and he crashes down.

“Like that,” Leo murmurs, voice calm and encouraging.

Dibu loses his mind, his hips moving erratically, his cock sliding between his gorgeous, magnificent thighs, slick with his precome and everything is hot and wonderful and so fucking good Dibu doesn’t know what to do with himself. He loses his rhythm completely, his hips lunging forwards in desperate jerks, and there’s a constant tremor traveling up his spine, a tangled knot of lust and want and a pleasure so bright it lights up his vision despite the fact his eyes are screwed shut.

Leo pulls at the medal, pulls him closer, the sharp motion makes his head bow low over his back, and he follows the silent order gratefully, pressing his lips to Leo’s nape, gasping against his skin, filling his lungs and his head with his scent. He wraps an arm around his waist, his hand splayed wide over the soft, silky skin of his belly and he wriggles even closer, his entire body flush against Leo’s, skin lighting up at every point of contact until Dibu is not sure where he ends and where Leo begins.

His cock is a burning line of excruciating pleasure, and he doesn't know why he hasn’t come yet, he doesn’t understand how he’s managing to resist. At least, he doesn’t until Leo tells him, voice calm and measured and warm, so different from how out of control Dibu feels.

“Come for me darling.”

He flexes his thighs around his cock and the soft, supple flesh turns hard against him, the pressure blindingly good, and Dibu feels his mind unravel. Leo’s permission snips the last thread of his control - because of course, of course, it wouldn’t be right otherwise, it just wouldn’t - and he comes so hard his lungs empty in a rush, so hard that his eyes roll in the back of his head and his mouth falls open, a strangled, quiet whimper dragged out of his sore throat and offered up like a prayer, pressed reverently into Leo’s neck.

He goes limp, his arms giving out, and he buries his face into the crook of Leo’s shoulder, mouthing silent praise against the skin there as his mind struggles to remember how to work.

His entire body is trembling, his hips twitching without his control, pushing his cock through the vice grip of Leo’s thighs, through the mess of his come that’s painting his skin, and he lets out a wrecked moan as the sensation quickly turns too intense. Despite that, he cannot stop. He whimpers, grateful and a little disappointed, when Leo relaxes his hold and the hair-raising, electric feeling stops frying his brain. 

Leo caresses his arm, fingers trailing from his elbow to his wrist until he slips them between Dibu’s and squeezes. Dibu tries to reciprocate, but he’s still coming down and his muscles refuse to obey him, so he enjoys the feeling of Leo holding his hand, his skin pressed against his, his scent surrounding them. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes, just that everything is perfect and fantastic and filled with light, and they won, and Leo has made him see stars just as he promised and Dibu is incredibly, incandescently happy.

He basks in the feeling until he comes back to himself enough to finally remember his own name.

“Fuck,” he pants, and Leo laughs, his body shaking under him.

“Oh yeah,” he agrees, his voice a little muffled, and Dibu realizes that he’s pinning him to the mattress, and probably smothering him.

“Wait,” he groans, and then bites back a curse, because his arms buckle under him halfway through pulling himself up and he slumps back on top of Leo, making him grunt out a winded sound.

“Sorry, shit- wait. I can’t feel my body,” he croaks against the back of his shoulder, pressing his finger apologetically against Leo’s side.

Leo just keeps laughing, reaching back blindly to pat him on the ass. Dibu snorts and decides that the best course of action is to hug Leo and just roll over on his side until he’s spooning him.

“Better,” Leo gasps, still giggling. 

His hand is still clasped in his, and Dibu curls himself around him and presses his free hand over his ribcage, feeling his heartbeat under his fingertips, strong and slow. His own heart is still trying to escape his chest.

Leo calms down after a while, and brings their joined hands to his mouth to press a kiss to Dibu’s knuckles. He twists in his arms then, until they are face to face, and his face is lit up in a lovely smile.

“That was spectacular, Emi. How are you feeling?”

Dibu lets out a contented sigh, his eyes drooping as he leans forwards to kiss the corner of his smiling mouth, a shiver running up his spine.

“Jesus fucking christ Leo. You’re going to kill me one of these days, and I'll die the happiest man on earth.”

Leo’s eyes crinkle, his cheeks pink, and he reaches up to swipe a thumb over his cheekbone. “I take it it was good for you too then?”

Dibu kisses him again, because the smug smirk on his lips is too tempting to resist. “As if you couldn’t tell,” he mumbles. 

“I could. I love how open you are with me. I love making you happy.” His eyes are light, the most perfect shade of warm brown.

Dibu smiles and wraps his arms tighter around his waist. “You always do,” he whispers.

Leo butts his head gently against his, letting out a deep, slow sigh and reaches up to kiss his cheek.

“I’m gonna go find something to clean us up,” he says, and Dibu lets go of his waist reluctantly, rolling onto his back to watch him get off the bed. 

His gaze drops down, and he cannot resist the urge to touch, fingers brushing against the inside of his thigh, smearing his come against his skin. The sight is mesmerizing, and it makes satisfaction purr in his chest. Leo captures his wrist, looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You possessive little shit,” he murmurs, and Dibu beams up at him, unashamed now that he knows how much Leo likes it.

Leo shakes his head, but he cannot hide the grin as he turns away. Dibu slumps back on the mattress, stretching his body out until he’s occupying the entire bed so that when Leo comes back he’ll have no choice but to lay on top of him. He smiles placidly at the ceiling, enjoying the buzzing in his veins. He opens and closes his hands mindlessly, rotating his wrist a little to feel the twinge of the welt left by the handcuffs. 

He tilts his head back to see. The pink of friction is already fading from his skin, and he gets a thrill running down his spine as his eyes catch on a curved line under his palm that shows promise, red still, but turning faintly purple. The sight makes him breathe deeply, and he remembers Leo whipping his shirt at him playfully earlier today, remembers the way in which Leo sometimes leaves the shape of his hand imprinted on the outside of his thigh. 

He remembers being asked if he’d like a spanking, months and months ago when they started sleeping together. His heartbeat stutters a little. He wonders if he can ask . It might be greedy, but Dibu is already thinking of next time. He’s always satisfied after Leo is done with him, but never, ever sated. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be. 

Leo’s footsteps approaching the bed pull him out of the daze he had fallen into, and he realizes that he’s absent-mindedly pressing his thumb into the blossoming bruise on his wrist.

Leo nudges him away from the edge of the bed and finds a way to wiggle around until he’s sitting by Dibu’s ribs, thwarting his plans to have him sprawled out on top of him.

Darn.

Dibu’s pout vanishes under the damp towel Leo swipes gently over his face, and his playful indignation melts away as he lets Leo clean him up. He could do it himself, but Leo had fixed him with a death glare the last time he had insinuated that he should, and the ritual of it is so calming - Leo touching him all over, being tender and lovely with the parts of Dibu’s body he had abused the most - that he has to admit it’s something he always looks forwards to. He closes his eyes with a happy sigh, warmth and contentment filling his chest. 

Soon he’s clean - or, well, as clean as he’ll get without taking a shower, and he still feels too loose and gooey to bother even trying to get up - and Leo finally crawls over him, settling into his embrace. Dibu lets his hands roam over the warm expanse of his back, smiling when he feels him press a kiss to his jaw.

“Can I ask…” Leo whispers, tilting his head up and waiting until Dibu looks at him. “Could you tell me what you liked? I… You looked like you were having fun. But sometimes I wonder if I push you too far. I worry I’ll say or do something that makes you feel bad. After, I mean.” 

“It was really good, Leo. When you…” he swallows. “When you held me down like that. That was good. I like it when you treat me like that. I…” 

He takes a deep breath, gathering his courage because Leo has just offered him the best opening he could ask for. He can feel his face warming up again, but he fights his embarrassment to keep looking at him in the eyes. He wants to make it absolutely clear how very much in favor of Leo’s treatment he is.

“You are always so gentle with me,” he begins, but Leo startles in his arms and interrupts him.

“Wait, what? I don’t think that gentle is the way I’d put it.” 

He raises himself a little to cross his arms over Dibu’s chest, propping his chin against his wrist so that he doesn’t have to bend his neck to keep looking at him in the eyes. His expression is confused, and a little incredulous.

“No, I mean-” Dibu laughs. “I mean that you're always gentle with me, even when you're harsh. I don't know how to put it. You make me feel…” He swallows again. He lets his hands glide up his back, his fingers tracing meaningless swirls along the length of his spine. The sensation of his skin under his fingertips is incredibly soothing. “Humiliated, and degraded and yet… It’s always good. You never make me feel worthless. It’s… I always feel safe. You can push me. I’ll promise I'll tell you if I don't like something. I… I want you to push me more actually.” His voice softens as he speaks, ending up in a whisper. 

Leo is looking at him, his expression is serious, but his eyes shine with happiness. He looks like he’s considering Dibu’s words very carefully.

“Thank you,” he says softly, brushing his fingers against Dibu’s collarbones. “That makes me feel better. And it’s not that I don’t trust you will tell me, I do. I trust you. I just want to know what it is I’m doing right, so I can keep doing it.” He tilts his head to the side. “You want something I’m not giving you? You can ask, always Emi. I want to make you feel good.” 

He sounds curious, and open and a bit eager, and not like Dibu asking things of him is something that bothers him. The glint in his eyes says the opposite actually - he’s pleased.

Dibu opens and closes his mouth, uncertain of how to say it. Leo lets him take his time, his breathing slow and deep, and the feeling of his back rising and falling under Dibu’s hands is almost meditative. He turns his head away slightly, because the look in Leo’s eyes is intense and piercing and it muddles his brain in a very pleasant but distracting way.

“I want... Do you remember, on the beach? You asked me, when we were talking about pain... You mentioned hitting.” 

Leo takes in a sharp breath, his fingers halting their slow caress against his neck. Dibu can feel them tremble slightly where they are pressed against his skin.

“You want me to hit you.” 

It’s not a question, more of a dazed statement, like Leo needs a second to process Dibu’s words. His voice is carefully neutral, but there’s something underneath that facade, something that makes Dibu’s brain buzz, a low thrum at the base of his neck. He looks back at him, and his breath leaves him. His voice might be neutral, but his eyes are not. They are burning. 

“Yes.” He swallows. There’s a delicious mix of shame and yearning forming a knot in his throat that’s making it very difficult to speak. “I want you to hurt me. To use me and- And… call me names,” he whispers. 

His face feels red-hot. Talking like this, being this open about what he wants - especially when it’s this that he wants - is at the same time incredibly difficult and immeasurably freeing. Leo closes his eyes, his mouth pressed in a thin line, his nostrils flaring. His nails dig slightly into his shoulder. That look on his face... It pulls at Dibu’s gut, makes him want to squirm and beg. He waits for his response with bated breath.

“You want me to wreck you. To take you apart with my hands and my words. You want me to push you down and hold you there and dismantle you and be harsh and cruel and vicious.” 

Leo’s voice is low and gravelly, his words slow and measured. He’s looking at him intently, but he’s losing the fight to hide how Dibu’s request has affected him. Dibu’s breath catches in his chest. Yes. That’s exactly what he wants, and Leo’s wording makes his head spin. He's breathing fast and shallow, and his pulse is pounding in his head. He nods jerkily.

“Out loud Emi.” Leo is looking at him like he wants to devour him with his eyes.

“Yes, please,” he breathes.

Leo leans down and kisses him, deep and fast and hot. He winds a hand behind Dibu’s head to pull him harshly against his mouth, and Dibu gasps, wraps his arms tight around him. He’s panting by the time Leo pulls back.

“Yes,” he whispers, and Dibu feels like there are fireworks going off in his brain.

“Thank you,” he breathes, and Leo makes a kind of amused, startled sound.

“Absolutely no need to thank me. I feel like I should be thanking you.” Dibu can feel his heartbeat - under his fingertips, pressing against his chest. It’s fast. “I know it makes you squirm, Emi, but really… You are absolutely perfect.” 

For me he doesn’t say, but Dibu can see his lips twitch as if to form the words, and he hears them. His voice is full of affection. He tries not to squirm against the swell of emotions that threaten to make his heart burst - just to be a little contrary - but he doesn’t actually manage. 

“Yes,” Leo repeats, his voice acquiring that calm steadiness it always does when he’s about to lay down some rules, and Dibu perks up. The giddiness in his chest kicks up a notch, because if there are rules it means Leo is planning something, and that makes everything more tangible, more real. He’s going to get what he asked for.

“I… I have something in mind. I need you to tell me though, during, if something starts to be too much. Ah-ah,” he tuts when Dibu opens his mouth to reply, raising a finger in admonishment. The motion silences Dibu so fast it makes his head spin. He closes his mouth and waits.

“Good. As I was saying,” he cocks his head to give him a mock-chastising look, lowering his index finger to tap it against his collarbone. Dibu smiles at him angelically, and he snorts. “I want to know if I ever go close to your limits. Ideally before I cross them, not after. So you’ll tell me. We can keep using the light system, and you’ll use yellow if you need to. And I’ll keep checking, but you’ll have to actually volunteer it if you feel like that.”

Dibu furrows his brow. “Like that,” he says slowly, not quite sure what Leo is saying.

“Like you’re still enjoying it, but you feel you won’t if I keep going. I don’t want you to wait until you’re not having fun anymore before you tell me, ok?” Dibu nods in understanding. He can do that. “Good. We’ve played with pain, but not gone that far. And I have a feeling that I can push you further than I have ever pushed anyone else in this respect. You have a pretty amazing pain kink there. So this will be new for me as well, at least in part.”

Dibu inhales sharply. “Oh,” he whispers, caught off guard. 

The thought that this - other than being something he wants so fucking much - will also be something they explore together is kind of blowing his mind. He tightens his arms around Leo’s waist and leans up to kiss him, suddenly desperate. Leo kisses him back immediately, cupping his cheeks between his palms.

Dibu has a sudden thought and pulls back. If Leo has never pushed it far… does he… 

“Do you want this?” he asks, a bit concerned. He knows that Leo is always eager to give him what he wants, and in his blinding desire to get it he had never stopped to consider… Shit, he might be an asshole here. He’s always pushing himself, begging for more, but he never actually checks to make sure he’s not pushing Leo . He feels his belly twisting in an unpleasant way. “I mean, if you’ve never.. I’m sorry Leo, I didn’t think-”

“Shh,” Leo whispers, as always almost preternaturally aware of Dibu’s moods as soon as they start to change. “You have nothing to be sorry about. If I didn’t want something, I’d tell you.”

Dibu calms down, reassured. He still feels a bit shitty for never actually thinking about this before now, but it’s hard to maintain that feeling when Leo is running his fingers through his hair.

“I admit it’s new. I've spanked people before, and called them names. I’ve done it to you . But from how you asked me… You want something more, I think. More than a simple spanking, more than being called a slut. And that… Fuck, Emi,” he breathes, and his eyes are hot and intent on him. “It's not a question of wanting, darling. I never felt the need to go further than that, but fuck, you asking me... It's the hottest thing I've ever heard. I want to. I want to see how far down I can bring you, how wrecked I can make you, how soft and sweet you'll be when I'm done with you.”

Dibu shudders. He cannot fucking wait. And now that Leo has put it in such stark terms, knowing that he will see him… He feels his face flush, and there’s a niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach, that maybe he ’ll be too much, because there’s something more he wants to talk about. His mouth twists a bit, and he wonders if he should .

“What’s that?” Leo asks him, reaching up to trace the curl of his lips with his fingers.

“Nothing just…” he swallows, and flushes deeper.

“Oh,” Leo says, and the look of confusion clears from his features, his eyes becoming warm and fond. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, you know?” He says, voice gentle.

Dibu’s eyes flutter closed for a second. Leo always, always manages to see right through him. He opens them again. “I’m not… It’s… Isn’t shame something that’s on the table?”

Leo hums. “It is, but only if you enjoy it, if it gets you off. Not if it makes you believe I’d ever think less of you for what you like. There’s nothing you could ever want that would make me think less of you. You know that, right?”

Dibu feels that twinge of doubt dissipate like smoke in the wind at his words. He nods mutely, and Leo presses a soft kiss to his mouth.

“Ask. If it is within my powers I'll give it to you.”

Dibu has to take a deep breath to fight the knot in his throat. He doesn’t know what he did right in a previous life to deserve this, but he’s not going to squander it.

“Can you… Be meaner. With your words I mean. Not always, not every time, I’m really happy like this, really-” he rushes to explain, because he doesn’t want to make Leo think that what he usually does isn't enough to turn Dibu’s brain to mush.

“But sometimes,” Leo says pensively, and Dibu nods. Leo taps his fingers rhythmically on his chest, his expression contemplative. “Mh. I can certainly try. But… I'm not sure I'll ever be able to be just harsh and cruel. Not for long at least. I sometimes feel like I'm going to explode if I don’t tell you how good you are. Would that be ok?” His mouth is curled down at the corners in a slightly worried frown.

“No, no, that’s perfect,” Dibu breathes. “That’s… You do that so well. I love it. I don’t think I'd like it as much if it was just one or the other.”

Leo smiles at him, his features relaxing. “Then yes. I can do that. I just need to know… Is there anything you can think of that you're sure you don’t want me to say? Think about it.”

Dibu does. He gets distracted a bit wondering about what Leo could say, and his eyes glaze over, at least until Leo pinches him lightly, and then he manages to focus. “Don’t call me useless. Or worthless,” he says finally.

Leo inhales sharply, his fingers curling against his jaw and his mouth thinning in a line. “Good. That’s good, because those are words I’d never, ever use to describe you.” His voice is tight, and a little fierce, and it makes his chest fill with warmth.

“But you’d call me a whore?” he teases, and Leo snorts. 

“You know what I mean,” he mumbles, and Dibu laughs, feeling light and free. 

He’s never had this kind of conversations about sex before, not this deep and broad at least, and the mix of vulnerability and strength that fill him make him feel kind of light-headed.

“Okay,” he breathes. “When… ah-”

Leo smiles at him. “When would you like?”

“Tomorrow,” he blurts out. He’s so fucking ready for this. He doesn’t know he won’t just explode from anticipation if Leo makes him wait too long.

Leo’s face slackens in surprise. “Tomorrow?”

“I’m done for the season. I'm officially on holiday starting from tomorrow. I won’t have to worry about being fully fit for playing until next month. I mean, there are no reasons to wait, right? Please.”

“Fuck. Ok.” Leo’s eyes are wide and dark, and he looks a little like someone has hit him in the head.

Dibu shivers in excitement. A thought hits him and he shakes Leo a little to pull him out of his stupor. “So, wait… Do you have something, or do you have to go buy it?” 

He doesn’t know what the protocol is here, and the lowered amount of blood currently in his brain doesn’t help him. He imagines the sort of pandemonium that would erupt if someone caught even a hint of Lionel Messi buying a whip. Is it a whip? Or maybe they can make do with a belt. He exposes his thoughts to Leo, who makes a choked sound and drops his head on Dibu’s chest with a groan.

“Jesus, you’re a menace,” he wheezes. 

“What? Why?” Dibu asks him.

“We’re not going for whips from the get go, you absolute lunatic.” Leo raises his head to look at him incredulously, but there’s a curl of delighted amusement in his eyes.

Ah. Okay, so maybe Dibu had let himself be caught up in the moment. A little bit. He clears his throat in embarrassment, unable to contain his sheepish smile. He looks at Leo’s expression from the corner of his eyes and an evil thought comes to him.

“Sooo… No whip? Pretty please?” He says, batting his eyelashes facetiously, just to tease him, to watch him wrestle with his control. 

Leo laughs, rolling his eyes at him, but Dibu can see the muscle in his jaw tense, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his neck as he lets out a breath through his nose. There’s a spark of something - avarice and want - that glints darkly in his eyes as he turns his head back towards him.

He breathes in shakily. Seeing how much Leo wants him always gives him a rush, a feeling of power that floods through him and feels right. It tells him that however much Dibu is Leo’s - to own, to control, to use - Leo is in as deep as he is. 

It feels like seeing his come streaked on Leo’s skin, the shape of his mouth like a mark all over Leo’s body, the ease in his posture when Dibu is near. It feels like belonging.

Leo smiles at him, and it turns into a knowing smirk as he catches the smug look in Dibu’s eyes. “Baby steps eh, Emi? Are you doubting my ability to leave you a drooling, begging mess?” He raises an eyebrow, trying to look composed, but his face is flushed.

Dibu’s breath hitches in his chest. “When you put it like that…” he croaks.

Leo laughs and uncrosses his arms to wrap them around him, tucking his head under his chin.

“Mh,” he snuffles into his throat, squirming against him until he’s satisfied. “Cover us because I’m starting to get cold.”

Dibu stares at the ceiling incredulously, wondering how the fuck he’s gonna do that with Leo’s warm weight pinning him down. “Bossy,” he murmurs, shivering as Leo bites him teasingly, but he tries anyway, contorting until he manages to grab the corner of the sheet and dragging it from under them with difficulty. 

Leo yawns against his chest, his back quivering under Dibu’s hands as a shiver travels down his spine, and he lets out a contented sound as soon as the blankets cover them.

“Go to sleep,” he mutters, “long day tomorrow.” His voice is amused, and a bit eager.

Well, fuck. How is Dibu supposed to go to sleep after that?