#*dubcon

[ When it was dark, you always carried the sun in your hand for me. ]

Blind devotion and drunk hope had long blurred his old memories, but he couldn’t escape the moment he met you. You were transcendent, so beautiful that you were light itself Even the brightest stars could not compare, just like fallen stars died without ever holding the sun’s attention. Your attentions were never directed at him, and he was content with that. You never spared him a second glance, and why would you? The world was at your fingertips, the oceans and their horizon far too small for your dreams. Sights set so high, your world was far greater than anything he could imagine. So high you never knew that you were his world. 

And like a disciple seeking salvation which never came, he followed, silent, enduring, pining. It was only when he fell for you did he realize hope was too bright for him.

Hope had blinded him just as it had blinded you.  

And you never noticed. The problem with sticking your head in the clouds was they blocked your view of the storms. There was no need to hide his feelings. They were always on full display for you to brush over as if they were nothing. He didn’t hold it against you, could never hold it against you;  he followed without a word, but you may as well be his puppet -- unknowing, reliant on him. Dino was content with gently guiding you away from friends, family, and suitors who happened to hold your eye for far too long; content with your reliance on him; content with simply existing in your presence.

Until you announced the engagement.

And suddenly, it hurt. He was no longer content with everything he had, and he didn’t understand anymore, didn’t know what to do with himself. Didn’t know what to do with these feelings. Because like a star pining after the sun, you seemed that much farther. 

You didn’t know it, but you were his first -- his first love, his first heartbreak. They say the first hurts the most, that you’d never forget your first love, that you’d always love them no matter how many years pass. There was no need for that, not when he knew you’d always be his first -- his only. And yet he could feel it simmering beneath his skin, that ugly feeling of jealousy and heartbreak. This wasn’t like him, wasn’t anything like the man you’d come to call your best friend. Soft glances quickly turned into heated glares which made him draw his eyes away in shame. The harsh grinding of teeth against flesh, the thoughts that no longer felt like his his own -- what he felt wasn’t normal. What he felt had already destroyed who he thought he was.

What he felt would destroy everything around him, everything that wasn’t you.

So when you walked through his office doors, eyes fresh with worry and lips pursed as if hiding secrets you thought he didn’t know, Dino realized it’d be difficult to restrain himself, to not throw you on his desk and wrap his whip around your limbs, to not bare these pent-up feelings in the most primal way possible, to not make you his, like you were meant to be.

It was difficult, but he managed. 

Barely.

“Dino...” Concern always haunted your conversations these days. It’s a familiar, comforting sound, to know that you still cared for him, but he felt guilty for making you worry when you had other things to be doing, other things on your mind... 

Other things on your body. 

He had to fight the urge to scream, killing it in his throat before it could lay waste on his lips. This wasn’t like him, he reminded. Keep it contained, don’t let her know. If he let his feelings show, you’d hate him. 

Inhale.

Exhale.

“Dino, talk to me.” Unaware of his wavering restraint, your voice was melodic and kind, a weak facade which failed to hide the hurt you felt. “Please. It almost feels like you’re... avoiding me.” You fought the crack in your voice, biting at your bottom lip to keep it at bay. 

If your betrayal didn’t break his heart, this would’ve been enough.

“Did I do something wrong?” 

His heart ached thinking he’d pushed you so far away you’d started to believe you were the problem. His chair swiveled wildly when he shot up and rushed to your side, large, cold hands grasping your smaller ones as if to protect them.

“No! You didn’t do anything wrong! The fault lies with me.” Arms slipped far too tightly around your waist, bringing you far too close to his chest. You were so close, so innocent and so vulnerable that his desires nearly won, but your tears took priority. You took priority. 

“I’m the problem, amore mio.” He continued, fingers brushing stray hairs that had laid rest against your eyelashes. “After all, how can that which is imperfect ever hope to appreciate something that is?”

“I... I don’t understand. Stop with the poetry and talk to me like we... like we used to.” Neither of you missed the waver in your voice. You were hurting and he was the cause. “Tell me what you’re really feeling...” Warm hands caressed his cheek, and he leaned into it needily, knowingly, like a sunflower longed for the sun. “Please, Dino. I feel like I hardly know you anymore.”

“I can’t. You’ll hate me if I do.” 

“I could never hate you, Dino. You’re my best friend!” Air caught in your throat, and you wondered if you’d spoken out of line, wondered if you were the only one feeling this way. 

“We...we are still best friends, r-right?”

That searing, hopeful, bright look in your eyes all but burnt him.

“I’ll never stop being your friend, [Name]. Though...” His voice was sweet, as clear and as pristine as you were used to, but it was fake. It was fake and it made you question whether he meant anything he said.

“I wish we could be more.”

Questions died on your lips, joining the screams that never made it past your throat when he cupped his hand over your mouth. Your heart was already pounding from the way his chest fit perfectly against yours, but this was different. You knew he’d never hurt you, but your body thrummed with fear, pulsating dangerously fast and low, screaming for you to run.

But you ignored it.

“Ti amo.” 

Your entire body hummed with excitement -- screamed with apprehension -- when he spoke those words, when his body pushed up against yours. Before you could struggle, he tightly wound his buckwhip around your body, pinning your arms to your sides and your legs together, with a precision that would’ve baffled you if you didn’t recall the men standing just outside his doors. It was unusual, you’d noted when you entered his office, but you knew Dino wouldn’t hurt you.

At least you thought you knew.

Gently, he laid you on the leather office couch, hand never leaving your lips. The weight of his body was unusual -- exhilarating, forbidden, wrong. 

“Ti amo tanto, cara mia (I love you so much, my dear).” He mused softly, needily, achingly. “I love you so much I wish I hated you instead, because god knows it wouldn’t hurt as much.” His voice was low, somewhere between a whine and a growl, and you were painfully aware you’d never heard him sound this desperate, this broken before.  Dark brown eyes wavered -- determined, tearful. “I love you so much that I hate every man you talk to. I want to hurt them, to do unspeakable things to them simply for looking at you.” His knee sunk into the leather, pinning you against the chair, caging you like a prized animal. As he hovered over you, his expression pulled taut as if holding something back, as if simply speaking to you was painful. 

“You were the only thing stopping me. You’d hate me if I hurt them, and that’s something I cannot bear.” He sighed as if the weight on his heart had been lifted with those simple words. Lips captured yours much like his whip had claimed your body -- a kiss much harder and rougher than he was expecting. You whimpered, moans and screams now stifled by his lips rather than his hands. The buck whip lightly dug into your skin when he pulled on the handle, the cold leather sucking the heat from your flesh. He brought you flush against his body, marveling in the way your body fit against his like a puzzle piece, the way your chest pressed against his like he’d always fantasized. Gentle lips kissed your chin, lingering as if to savor the moment, before moving down your neck. Fingers pressed against your skin, curling around your hips to lift your blazer and shirt. He hummed contentedly as he moved the garments to the side, fingers immediately coming in contact with your blissfully warm skin, gradually exposing more and more of your torso.

“When you’re gone”, he murmured, lips brushing against hot skin. “I can’t think of anything but you. When you’re not by my side, I feel empty.” His hips bucked instinctively against yours, and your heart pulsated with the fear and pleasure you felt, with the emotions you forbid yourself to feel. “My heart is so full of you, amore mio! Ti adoro!”

Your voice didn’t want to be found, but you hadn’t a choice. “Dino, W...what are you saying?” Heart clenched, teeth grit against one another. “This isn’t like you! My fiance wouldn’t--”

“You don’t need anyone but me!” His words were ugly and desperate and shameful, but he didn’t care. Lips brushed across your neck, inciting a fire within you, one you didn’t want to stoke. You were not easy, were not a harlot, were not a cheater, but the way his fingers ran through your hair, the way his kisses left sun spots in their wake, the way he looked at you as if looking away would spell his death--“Nothing would hurt me more than losing you! Ho bisogno di te (I need you)!”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Your heart nearly burst, whether it be with joy for his confession or fear for the man he’d become, you didn’t know, didn’t want to know. "You’re lying! You don’t need me, you don’t love me, I don’t love you--”

“You love me, I know it!” His words were no longer poetic and passionate for they bared the ugly truth he’d struggled to hide. “I can see it in your eyes. I’ve spent years looking at you, looking out for you -- you can’t hide it from me.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore!” The truth was jealous of how easily your tears tears spilled, but you couldn’t wipe them away when he caged your arms like an animal

And yet, how he adored you, for you were gorgeous even when you cried. Sadness didn’t suit you, not when you were his sun, but the way you tore up, struggling to hold your emotions behind the bars you’d locked them behind, was beautiful. You were so beautiful; no... rather, you were hope itself, and he knew that if you were his, his darkness would swallow your light in an instant. But the more he felt your warmth against his, your body against his, your eyes pleading yet conflicted -- the less he cared.

“It does matter, mi amore...” His voice softened, struggling to stay on the cusp between enraged and docile.

“What do you know?!”

“An arranged marriage.”

You finally stilled, no longer fighting against his body and his grasp. You knew, deep down, that you couldn’t deny it any longer. What a fool you were, thinking you could hide it when he was a famiglia boss with connections. This painful, yet bittersweet feeling welling in your stomach... was it fear, or relief?

“Please don’t look at me like that.” His voice was unusually soft and timid, and your heart clenched in response. “I couldn’t stop myself from looking into your... fiance”, his gentle voice devolved into a hiss before he recollected himself. “You’re being forced into this and it’s... it’s my fault. I should’ve figured it out sooner, I could’ve stopped it.” He whispered into your skin, so close to your heart he may as well feel it beating at his flesh -- may as well rip it from your chest and hold it next to his own, where it belonged. He wanted to be with you, to be your one and only, to be inside you, wants to see what you’re like when you’re desperate for his touch and for his kisses, desperate for him to make you his. He wants to revel in each labored breath that left your pristine lips, as if you were uttering gospels rather than sins. He wants to hear your plead, beg, and scream while your legs tighten around his waist, urging him to take what should’ve been his from the start. He wants to ruin you, to ruin the innocence that pours from cherry lips that had kissed another man and from bubbly laughter that he no longer heard.

He wanted to ruin you and rebuild you anew, to wash away your decisions in life and rewrite time itself. He wanted to begin again, wants his past self to confess sooner, to make you his sooner.

But fate was cruel, and you were crueler.

“You could do so much better if you had the chance.” He finally admitted, as if uttering those words would compel fate to snatch you from him, to leave him all alone with his feelings. Hesitantly, he let his fingers comb your hair, as if simply touching you would break everything he’d built with you. “But I can’t let that happen, not when I almost lost you to another man.”

His look of barely reined in passion melted what little apprehension had lingered in your core, but words refused to form.

“I can make him disappear, my love. I’ll give you the world if you let me.” He offered, and you hated how they tempted you so easily, swayed the restraint you thought you had. “Non posso vivere senza di te (I can’t live without you).”

Hope was far too bright for him, far too intoxicating. It brought a light Dino was unfamiliar with, a light he wanted to protect. He could’ve had a normal relationship with you, if only he didn’t let his darkness eat your light.

You were his hope and he was drunk on you.

“Just say the words, amore mio...Senza di te, la vita non ha significato. Il mio cuore è tuo.” 

Your answer came easier than you cared to admit.