i guess this has become a motogp blog

After that, Valentino and Alex had come to break them up, and Marc had tried his best to forget about it, but now, as he listens to Valentino shower, he can’t shake it from his brain. Why would Dovi love someone like him in the first place? Doesn’t he love Alex? And worst of all, why does the feeling that Alex’s boyfriend doesn't actually love him hurt Marc more than anything?

He’s so lost in his own head, he doesn’t hear the water shut off and Valentino coming out of the bathroom, he’s wearing his own merch and is towel drying his hair as he says, “I thought you were going to join me.” 

Marc looks up to him as he shrugs, “Didn’t feel up to it, my foot hurts” Valentino just drops the wet towel on the floor, deciding it can be a problem for tomorrow, as he rushes to pull Marc into his arms kissing his temple “Well, that's what you get for leaving your crutches in random places.”

He can’t even manage a fake laugh at the joke. That’s when Valentino knows things are dire; he leans over to the bedside table, pulling out a long box, the perfect size for a necklace. He hands it to Marc “This was going to be a surprise for tomorrow, but I think you need it now.” Marc notices it is the same Jeweller he used to torment Alex and Dovi earlier, and now for some reason, he’s starting to feel guilty about it. 

After Marc stares at it for a moment, he whispers in Marc’s ear, “Go on, open it.” He does as he’s told, popping the box open and finding a gold necklace, with a pendant that has some complicated lines, circles and some other symbols Marc can’t place on it. He rubs his finger over all the details. It looks fancy. “Do you like it?” Valentino whispers, Marc nods, the necklace is almost enchanting Marc the longer he looks at it, it’s so pretty, just like him. “Do you wanna try it on?” He nods as his own voice is feeling too meek in his own throat. 

Carefully, Valentino takes the box off him as he leads him over to one of the motorhome's many floor-length mirrors per Marc’s request. He carefully plucks it from the box and secures it around Marc’s neck “I love you, you know that, right?” Valentino says, making eye contact with Marc in the mirror, those piercing blue eyes should make Marc feel scared, but it’s Valentino he feels safe here. He can’t even remember what he was worrying about before.“Do you like it?”

Marc turns to face him, planting a kiss on his lips, “I love it. Just like how I love you.” He smiles at that. Nowhere else could Marc ever feel this safe.       

Looking back in the mirror, Marc is glad Valentino picked gold. It really is his colour.

The next day, when Alex crashes out on turn one, taking Diggia with him, Marc holds onto his necklace to ignore the stab in his gut, the beating of his heart and the need to run and go check on Alex. The cameras cut to Dovi, who looks like he would rather be anywhere else, and for once, Marc doesn’t blame him. He clings to Valentino after that. 

By Monday night, they are back in the safety of their bed at the Ranch. Marc is cuddled into Valentino’s chest scrolling through his Instagram comments from his Mugello dump. It’s pretty normal. Vale464life says it's wonderful Valentino found someone who takes such good care of him, which, of course Marc likes and takes a screenshot of for the next time Valentino gets bitchy about using one of Marc’s face masks. When a comment catches his eye. It reads LMAO is the Sigil necklace you're wearing from Vale? If so, he’s never beating the witchcraft allegations. 

He snorts at the comment, and his finger hovers over the reply button as Valentino asks, “What’s so funny?” Marc cranes his neck back, looking up at him “They're calling you a witch in my comments again.” Valentino snorted, kissing the crown of Marc’s hair before asking, “What spells did I cast this time?”

“Mmmmm, no spells this time, it’s something about the necklace you gave me? What’s a Sigil? Is that like the source of your power?” He shoves his phone in his face so Valentino can read the comment himself. After reading it, he hums, “No, it’s not a Sigil, just an old school symbol, to bring luck cause I know with your foot and everything else you need some, no spells, I promise.” Marc nods, kisses Valentino as a thank you, and then replies to the comment, saying no spells here and turns his phone off, drifting to sleep in Valentino’s arm. 

Dovi is driving while Marc is in the front, with Alex in the back guarding Marc’s duffel bag. His leg won’t stop bouncing. For so long, the end of his career felt so far away, yet recently, with each crash, it felt like Marc was coming closer and closer to it. 

But Marc wanted to make that call himself, even if he would never be ready to do so; he still wanted that power, but each time he went under the knife, his body and, more recently, Dovi were screaming at him to stop, but he just couldn’t quit. 

Dovi’s hand comes to rest on his bouncing thigh “It’s going to be okay. This will make you feel better.” Marc hums, thinking about how Dovi went pale when Marc admitted to the surgeon that he’d been struggling to write with that hand, let alone ride. He also thinks about how Dovi has avoided the topic of Marc winning again, but he hasn’t outright told him to quit this time, so that was something. 

“And hey, worst comes to worst, if you can’t jack off anymore, at least you have Dovi to help.” Alex chirps from the back seat, causing the tension in the car to relax as Marc turns around and flips Alex off with his good arm. 

After that, the car is quiet. Most hospitals don’t have valet parking, but when you're Marc Marquez, and you're here more times than not, things move in wonderful ways.Marc is brought straight up to the private room as they check him in. No one says it, but they all know Dovi likes the hospital because it's one of the few places where he’s allowed to be Marc’s boyfriend openly, and no one can say shit due to patient confidentiality and the several NDAs everyone is made to sign. Marc likes it too, he likes having his hand held, and he likes being kissed and coddled as the Doctors talk about what they're going to do with him and all the risks involved in this double surgery. 

The doctors have left now, it’s just Alex and Dovi, Marc knows he needs to shoo them away soon to actually go eat some food, he’ll be wheeled up in just a moment, but for now he’s making everyone cuddle with him on the bed. It’s a nice, quiet moment, where Marc realises this is his family, and this is who he’s been pushing away for far too long. He loves Dovi, but at the same time, Dovi is too good for him. Deep down, Marc knows this, but just like riding, he hangs on nevertheless. 

“I love you.” Marc says out of nowhere. He looks at Dovi, it’s the first time he’s said it to him in a while, too busy with the season, Dovi at least could understand that, or at least Marc thought he could. Dovi blinks a couple of times, confused, before Marc restates, “I love you, and I’m sorry for not always showing it in the right way.”

Alex carefully watches on, ready to step in if Marc needs him. Dovi nods, knowing Marc needs the reassurance he says, “I love you too, and we will get through this together, I swear.” He swallows hard; he knows he’s not talking about just this surgery. Even with what a mess he was Dovi was still willing to fight for him. Marc feels like the biggest dick in the world for everything. Quickly after that, he kicks them out, telling them to go eat with a quick hug to Alex and a kiss to Dovi. 

Once they leave the room, but before Marc is put under, he pulls out his phone and texts a forever unsaved number with the simple message I’m sorry I can’t do this anymore. Maybe in the next life I’ll be allowed to love you. 

After that, he quits cold turkey, blocking the number. He doesn’t have much time to think about it because after that, they put him under. Marc only hopes this choice is for the better. Maybe once he’s out of the hospital and off all the super-strong pain meds, he should talk to Dovi about them actually coming out at the end of the season. 

It could be a peace offering, maybe he could still have everything.

Marc flings awake, his arm stinging as he looks at Valentino’s sleeping form next to him. He looks beautiful like this, his curls across his forehead with no stress being held in his face. Like this he kinda looks like a cherub. He wouldn’t do this right? It was the meds that were making him crazy after all, Valentino could change the universe. Magic wasn’t real. He wasn’t actually a witch. That would be insane. 

He thinks of Dovi’s pleading, how the whole weekend Alex seems to struggle to draw his eyes away from Marc, the missing memories of his own life and most of all the Sigil, as that comment had said, the necklace as Valentino had called it. He’d been weird about Marc taking it off at night, even though, besides his wedding and engagement ring, Marc never wears jewellery to bed. That would be an insane thing for Valentino to do, yet his dream felt so real. The way Dovi said I love you made his heart flutter. Alex's love and worry for him was so overwhelming even just the idea he had a family that loved him, that it wasn’t just Valentino and people who float around Valentino, gave him an overwhelming sense of something, maybe it was sadness, maybe it was joy but he had to work out what it was.

He bites his lip, holding back any sounds that might be threatening to come out, a caged bird still sings after all, he grabs his phone and quickly makes his way into the ensuite, locking the door behind him, trying to be as quiet as possible. He sits on the toilet seat. His foot is displeased with the sudden amount of pressure and weight put on it, but that’s nothing compared to the way the pain in his arm starts to grow. 

A constant thumping on his nerves would be the best description. But he pushes past it, he swipes through his photo gallery, turning the clock back with each swipe, but month by month, year by year go by, and the photos are there, yet Marc feels nothing; he has no memory of this alleged life without Valentino in his ear. 

For God's sake, when has he ever cared about Mig and his stupid podcast? 

But more than anything, all the photos feel empty without Alex by his side. He grabs at his right arm, the stabbing pain becoming unbearable. 

Marc’s arm is still in a sling, so he’s been demoted to bossing Dovi around when it comes to setting up Alex’s surprise “Move the banner to the left!” Dovi is on top of the kitchen counter balancing, on the marble as he ties the ‘congratulations on 2nd in the championship!’ Banner to a different set of light fixtures for the twentieth time “You know I don’t think Alex will care if the banner isn’t perfectly centre aligned.”

“Well, I do!” Marc barks as Dovi lovingly shakes his head. Shira barks at them, displeased that there is a blue cake on the kitchen counter that even has her face on it yet she can‘t reach it. “I know, baby, your uncle is so bossy to me.”

“No, she agrees with me that the alignment looks wrong.” Before Dovi can come up with a comeback, there’s a sound of a car pulling up and the front door being unlocked as both Marc and Dovi realise how many hours they wasted on this banner. Not that it matters, Marc is charging over to greet Alex the same way Sitch and Shira do, even pushing past the tiny dogs, so he’s the first one to greet Alex. 

“I’m so proud of you!” He shouts, pulling Alex into a tight one-armed hug, best he can. It’s okay, Alex is squeezing him tight with both arms to make up for it. “Isn’t this season perfect? It’s just like how we dreamed about it happening when we were kids,” Marc squeals. Alex says nothing; he just holds Marc tight. He can hear Dovi taking a photo and the dogs barking at them, but that outside noise doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, it would always be him and Alex vs the world.     

A cry escaped his lips as he felt blood trickling down his chin from how hard he was biting at his lip, trying to keep it all in, finally breaking as he remembered that he was so much more than a pretty thing to be wrapped around Valentino's arm. 

Within moments, there's a sharp knock at the door “Bambino? Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” His voice is laced with worry.

The worst part about this is that Valentino does care, and Marc knows he cares, and he loves knowing that. If Marc thinks about it too hard, he’ll crumble because, in a way, he did ask for this, and a part of him loves Valentino for this. 

Yet the other part of him needs to know the truth, that part also needed Alex like the air he breathed, and even if this was the pain meds playing tricks on him, he needs to get to the bottom of this; he wants to know why his brain has latched onto Alex. 

“Marc, hey, talk to me, please? I’m worried.” Valentino’s voice feels so full of love and care. Marc wants to cry out for him, but he also knows how hazy his brain gets around him. His hand shakes as, by some miracle, he’s able to find a number saved as Alex (Valentino’s new teammate) on his phone. 

He can’t stomach looking at their text history, rather he quickly sends him a single text hoping he’ll get back to him before Valentino kicks the door down “I’m fine!” Marc shouts, yet his voice is still a shaking ruined mess. “Marc, unlock the door now, or I'll break it down. I don't believe you. I just want what's best for you.”

Another sob escapes from Marc’s lip as he stares at his phone. He only hopes Alex will get back to him before Valentino can break down the door. He just wants to know the truth.

~

By the end of the race weekend, Alex is almost grateful to be back in his and Dovi’s home. Even if Dovi had barely spoken to him after the kiss. Alex had been five minutes late to free practice; his swollen lips had caused an eyebrow raise from Gigi and some wolf whistle from the rest of the team, especially when Dovi slipped in just a little later, looking equally red-faced just before Alex headed out on his first run. Alex smiles, Dovi half-heartedly smiles back. That should have been Alex’s warning that things were going to get icy. 

Unless there was press or people around, Dovi didn’t talk to him, Alex knew why Dovi wasn’t like the rest of them. He was a good man, of course, he would feel bad for this whole mess. Unlike himself, Marc and Valentino Dovi kept his soul in one piece throughout his career. Alex doesn’t let it hurt him; he puts his head down and sets to work, filing his time hanging out with Jorge and Fermin lying about how Dovi has a headache that won't quit, they believe it, or at the very least Jorge seems to like the excuse to get touchy-feely with Alex without having to deal with Dovi. Even if Fermin does glare at Alex like it's his fault, Jorge isn’t touching him like that, ah, dumb puppy love could just be so sweet.

He qualifies P3 and feels on top of the world, even if he can’t kiss Dovi after the sprint in front of everyone since he drops to P5, but there’s always Sunday. That night, Alex takes the bedroom while Dovi stays on the couch, huddled over his laptop, frantically taking notes about something. Alex grips the sheets close to stop himself from getting up and begging Dovi to join him in bed. 

It doesn’t matter Sunday ends up being a shit show, he crashes out on turn one, lap one, and the crowd boos him despite the fact it was Diggia’s fault. So it’s nice to know that no matter the universe, some things will never truly change.

After that, Dovi and Alex share one look at each other, they are both tired, and sleeping on the couch can’t be helping Dovi’s back or mood. So when Alex’s media is done, they are both flying home to Andorra ASAP. Alex lies to Fermin, saying that he just wants to give him more one-on-one time with Jorge and that Dovi’s headache isn't gone. He just hopes Jorge will get a hint and blow Fermin’s back out, so he’s not too upset about the whole losing his ride home thing. 

Alex doesn’t know what it says about him that he’s more guilty over leaving Fermin behind than he is about kissing his brother’s fiancée. But oh well, there were more pressing issues at hand. Like the fact that Dovi had still barely said a word to Alex since they made it home. He mumbled something about being close to working everything out before locking himself away in his study, leaving Alex alone with the dogs and a bottle of wine. 

It’s okay, Alex has his photo albums and a bottle of wine to keep him company, looking over the wonderful life he’s lived. Photo by photo he thinks about how he used to believe that he’d be almost missing a part of himself without Marc by his side. At one point he could have moved to Andorra, even looked at houses for a short moment in 2017, they didn’t care about Alex the same way they wouldn’t bully him into staying. But he had so much fear about leaving Marc alone that he stayed in his childhood home with Marc pretending things hadn’t changed forever. But without Marc clinging to him, trying to force things not to change, clinging onto some pathetic childhood fantasy, Alex felt more than whole here. He felt as if he were his own person with his own dreams, and plans and not just Marc’s emotional support dog. 

Truthfully, he doesn’t know how he could go back to his old life anymore.  

Before he can pathetically bang down Dovi’s study door and beg him to stay like this forever. Aleix calls to check up on them because that’s how friendship actually works and once again it’s nice Alex likes having people around him who he doesn’t have to hide his true feelings from just because they're dealing with hypothetically a broken arm that might end their career and leave them in terrible pain forever. 

“Fermin actually told on you. Said he was worried because Dovi had a headache for most of the weekend, and with how hard he came down last time we all trained together, I just wanted to make sure you were both okay?” Alex hums and thinks about finding the memory in his mind, if he forgets about Marc kissing him with so much pride after he won his Moto3 title. He can remember that three weeks ago, Dovi landed right on his head during a crash, Alex had been worried they stopped then and there and got Dovi to the hospital just in case, holding hands the whole time as the doctor said what signs of a concussion to watch for, despite the fact they both knew it by heart. Headaches are a symptom. He doesn’t want to worry Aleix too much, so he settles for “Yeah, we’re fine, I think he’s just stressed about how the bike is turning out.”

Over the phone, Aleix hums, “And how are you, Alex?” His breath catches; he had to remind himself that here it was okay for him to have his own feelings "Tired, I don’t want to fuck up my Factory ride like Jorge did.”

“You won't. They know it’s the bike, not you and you are not allowed to tell Jorge, I said that, okay?” Alex laughs a little, “Okay, okay, I promise.” It was nice being able to joke around and not have to worry about someone running to the press about it. 

“Good, if you're feeling up to it, do you want to go for a run tomorrow night? I miss one-on-one time with my favourite little brother.” Alex laughs. He likes that with Aleix he could actually be the little brother even if they weren’t biologically related “Don’t let Pol hear you…” Aleix scoffs, “Oh please, like you're not his favourite too.” Alex snorts. “So is that a yes or a no?”

Alex smiles to himself, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

Even though that night Dovi stays locked away in his study and Alex sleeps in the master bedroom with only the dogs cuddling up to him, he still feels safe here; he still feels at home. 

He’s even good; he gives Dovi space to work through what he needs to do and goes about his Monday, and it’s only after he gets back from his late night run with Aleix that they next speak to each other. He dumps his stuff in the kitchen, planning to have a shower before crawling into bed. When Dovi finds him and hauls him into the study. 

“It’s magick! He’s using magick!” He looks like and is talking like a madman “Dovi, what are you talking about?” He points to a laptop screen on which there is a photo of Marc at Mugello wearing a gold necklace with a pendant with some weird shapes on it. Dovi is pointing at the laptop as he explains “This is called a Sigil, they use it in occult and magick practise all the time as part of manifestation, now there are a ton of traditional ones, yet I can’t find this one anywhere, so I would assume Valentino had it custom made for whatever his end goal is.” Alex nods helplessly, not sure where he’s going with this. 

“So there is this whole belief that the power of a Sigil can be increased by the raw power of the human orgasm.” Alex knows his mouth drops open; he was not expecting that from Dovi “Okay?”

“And it's like a proven thing! Like this comic book guy used the power of a sigil and his reader’s orgasm to save his comic book.” Okay, Alex really doesn’t know where this conversation is going “And?” Dovi just looked at him like he grew two heads and called the sky green “And Marc was clearly covered in hickeys, hence they’ve been having sex.”

“So Valentino is actually a witch, and he’s having sex so powerful with Marc, it’s changing the fabric of the universe?” Dovi nods, Alex doesn’t know how to do magic, there is no way for them to fix this “So what ,we're just like stuck like this in this universe forever?” It’s an active effort for Alex to stop the joy from creeping into his voice.

“No! No!  I think we can fix it. They just have to stop having sex.” Dovi says with a manic high as he keeps talking, “So all we have to do is get to Marc, explain this all to him, take off that necklace, then just stop him from having sex with Valentino, and he should go back to normal and we just have to hope that the world will just go back to normal!” Hope, hope, hope for the past decade all Alex had run on was hope, hope that Valentino’s fans would stop, hope that he wouldn’t be stuck in Moto2 forever, hope Marc’s arm would be better and he would go back to being his big brother, hope that maybe somehow he be repaid for all of this with a factory seat. He was sick of living off hope it was a drug that hadn’t gotten him high in years. 

Valentino himself had said that whatever this was needed something to latch onto. Marc wasn’t happy with his life. Alex can see that now, just being here, Marc was happier than he had been in years; he looked so much better. Marc had the life Alex dreamed of back home, and it wasn’t enough for him; it would never be enough for him. Marc didn’t deserve it. Least of all, he didn’t deserve him.

“He’s cheating on you! Why do you care so much about getting him back!” Alex suddenly screams. Now, granted, he didn’t know that for a fact, but he knows Marc, and he knows when Marc is hiding when his arm is sore, and he knows when Marc is disappearing for hours and coming back with a limp and actually smiling. Despite what Marc says, or others think, Alex has eyes, and he knows when Marc is once again trying to blow up his life by dancing with that same old Devil.

The manic look is gone from Dovi’s eyes, and his face has dropped at the same time he drops into his office chair “What?” Alex swallows the room feeling heavy, he sits on the floor cross legged not wanting to stand over Dovi anymore “I was going to talk to you about it but I wanted to find proof first but he was being weird with his phone and then he was being weird in the paddock and then he got weird at home and then Luca told me he saw them kissing in Valentino’s motorhome and he wanted to give me a heads up because ya know how they are.” The last part may be a lie. Luca had kept true to his word and never spoke to him again after 2015, even blocked his number for good when Alex tried to reach out after his Suzuka crash because god forbid, Alex proves he has a heart. But it feels like it could be true, and right now that’s all that matters.  

Dovi does nothing but stare off into space for a moment; he doesn't even react when Alex’s hand comes to rest on his thigh, rubbing it, to comfort him, of course. 

It could be hours, or it could be minutes before Dovi asks, “If you had to guess when did it start?” Alex sighs “Right after he started winning again.” After your engagement goes unspoken, “I was never going to be enough for him; I should have known that.” His voice shakes, and he’s about to get up, but Alex stops him, holds him down by his thigh, leaving Alex no choice but to start kneeling “You're more than enough. You've always been better than him. You’ve always deserved better than both of us,” Because that was Marc and Alex; they were always meant to be a package deal.  

Despite the tears building in Dovi’s eyes as he likely replays every out-of-place moment he’s had with Marc in the last couple of years. He still takes the time to wipe a tear from Alex’s eyes, he hadn't even noticed it was falling “You’ve always been great, Alex, don’t talk about yourself like that. This is his sin, not yours”

Alex looks at Dovi and then at Dovi’s dick and then back to Dovi, then with the eyes of an innocent baby deer, he says, “Let me make it up to you.” With his life falling apart, Dovi wants nothing more than to forget about the pain, hurt Marc the same way he had hurt him, so he nods his head, and Alex grabs the zipper of Dovi’s jeans with his teeth.

Alex had walked in on them having sex once. Well, actually many times, but the time he remembers the most was when he'd come to Marc’s room to go over data for the GP-23 and found Marc swallowing down Dovi’s dick. And realistically, this was the point where he should leave. This is when normal people normally leave, for fuck sake, this is when Alex would normally leave or make himself known. 

Yet right here right now he couldn’t physically move his own feet the sight was simply too pretty, he was just out of their view but he could see both of them he saw how Dovi’s head drop back each time Marc took him deeper, then his eyes flick to Marc, his older brother had been blessed without a gag reflex at least that what Valentino had told a seventeen year old Alex when he was shitfaced.

And well, Alex can now confirm that the man wasn’t lying. He takes Dovi’s full length with such ease, and Dovi is nothing if not big. He watches Dovi work a hand into Marc’s hair, lightly pulling on it, never painful and always mixed with praise. He feels his dick lengthening in his shorts as his brain oh so helpfully puts himself in Marc’s place, picturing what it would be like to taste Dovi’s dick on his tongue. He barely makes it back to his room before he starts jerking off.

But now he doesn’t even have to imagine it, he’s able to take his dick in his mouth and feel the weight of it on his tongue as he carefully sucks on the head, he wasn’t Marc he didn’t have the same gift but he didn’t care about the way it would cause him to gag or choke all he cared was making Dovi feel good and more importantly feel like he was at home.

Just like with Marc, Dovi’s hand goes straight into his hair. “It’s okay, Alex.” He’s clearly taking stock of his name and how it feels in his mouth “You don’t have to do anything cra-” He cuts himself off with a moan as Alex forces about half of Dovi’s dick in his mouth.

Tears prick in Alex’s eyes, but the praise of Dovi saying, “Oh fuck Alex that perfect.” Makes it all better. He doesn’t even think about touching his own dick, just focuses on taking Dovi’s further and further until before he knows it Dovi is moaning his name and his nose is tickling his balls “Jesus Christ Alex, where have you been hiding this?” Down the hall, he would say if his mouth wasn’t full. 

“So fucking good for me.”That gets a moan from Alex; it’s all he's ever wanted, just a chance to prove that he could step out of his older brother's shadow, that he did have his own talents. Alex keeps sucking, Dovi allows him to set his own pace, calling Alex sweet or perfect and most all his good boy motivates him further. He doesn’t care about how hard his dick feels or how he starts humping the floor like an overly horny dog. 

Until Dovi twists on Alex’s hair, causing Alex to yelp as Dovi starts pulling him off his dick. He whines pleas about asking what he did wrong is about to start falling from his lips, yet before Alex has time, Dovi is picking him up bridal style, “I want to come in you not just down your throat, does that work for you?” He sounds breathless, just like how Alex feels, “Take me to bed, please.” 

Dovi doesn’t need to be told twice; he charges into the master bedroom, finally dropping Alex down on the big soft bed, both of them making quick work of their clothes. Alex is in such a rush that he’s sure, by the end of it, he still has a sock on, but he doesn’t care as Dovi starts actually kissing him, teeth clashing with teeth to the point that Alex is positive that he draws blood. 

It’s animalistic in a way that he’s never seen with Marc from the glimpses he has caught of them in the past, but then again Alex wouldn’t have it any other way. Dovi’s hands start working their way further and further down Alex’s body, and Alex decides to give him no warning about what he’s going to find. 

Since, rather quickly, when he squeezes Alex’s ass, he feels an intrusion sticking out. With a quick pop, he pulls the plug out of Alex playfully asking, “Now what do we have here?” And Alex, ever a Marquez and ever a minx, replies with doe-eyed-innocence, “Oh that?”

Dovi nods, “Come on, baby, I’ve been ignoring you since we got home. What have you been doing?” The acknowledgment that he was being ignored should sting more, but right now Alex is having way too much fun playing the role of the innocent to even think about that. “Well, since you left me all alone in this big bed, I thought I might as well make use of some of the things I found lying around here. Turns out we’re very kinky”  Dovi smiles, leaning down to whisper, “And who did you think of? Was it sweet little Luca?”

Alex doesn’t even make a face at Luca’s name; rather, he just smirks, “No. I was thinking of you.” That gets Dovi to throw the plug to the floor and start ravaging him, kissing his neck and twisting his nipple as Alex moans, “Andrea.”

“Is that how you were moaning my name while you were fingering yourself?” Alex's cheeks turn bright red as he nods. Dovi hums, then smiles; clearly proud of the effect he was having on him, clearly Marc wasn’t giving him enough in the bedroom to work with. “So then are you ready for me to fuck you?” Alex nods, but Dovi, always the sweetheart, says, “Words, Lex, I need words.”

“Yes, yes, yes, YES!” As without warning or any further prep or lube, Dovi shoves himself in raw, Alex’s moans turn into whines as Dovi gives him a moment to adjust. He knows Dovi is big. He was in his mouth, but he feels even bigger stretching out his hole, yet he still wants more. He groans, growing impatient, “Come on fuck me like you mean it.” 

Dovi growls, “Be careful what you wish for, Lex.” and with that Dovi starts ramming into him like a jackhammer, Alex is pretty sure he can’t tell up from down or left from right. All that is keeping him tied to this reality is the way Dovi calls him a good boy when Alex wraps his legs around his torso, pulling him closer. Dovi leans down to his ear and whispers, “That’s it, baby, just lie there and let me fuck you. I’m going to make you feel so good.” So Alex does as he’s told and finally allows himself to feel good, letting Dovi fuck him like a rag doll might not be an all-encompassing and positive experience for most, but for Alex, it was. 

His sobs racked his chest and shook the bed more than Dovi’s thrust could because, for once, he selfishly picked himself, and without the guilt eating him alive, Alex could finally enjoy this. He screams Dovi’s name as he comes untouched. 

He doesn’t even think about his phone, which lies on the kitchen counter, dumped with his keys and wallet after his late-night run.