#4663

The alleyways are quiet when Pecco manages to drag his feet into the front of Vale’s office.

It’s just a knock away.

He has been looking up for today, practically counting it down when Vale said they could spend some days alone—just them both—in his house.

The thing is, since he arrived, Vale has been busy with his works—the academy, his team, his endurance team, business offers—they haven’t spent any “good” or “enough” quality time together. At first, he didn’t bother, he knows what he signed up for since they started taking their relationship on a more serious level. Vale is an important person, but he can’t keep pretending that he’s ok with him falling asleep first then Vale later even if they share a bed, and when they take meals separately. And the truth is, he has been staying in shape since the invite, prepares himself quietly in the farthest bathroom in the house, because he thought they’ll have sex as soon as he arrives. Lots of them. (It didn’t happen, not even once.)

Maybe it’s his wishful thinking and he still feels shame rushes over him every time the night comes and he doesn't get any action. It makes him feel like a teenager that just gets his puberty, figuring out his body. Even the slightest attention he can get during the day from Vale makes him wet and he’s always so close to beg so he’ll take Pecco there. He holds it down though.

However, it’s been the fourth day and Pecco has run out of things to do—he had finished two separate big lego sets, watched almost hundreds of dramas on Vale’s big TV screen in the living room, and checked every room available in the house. He’s that bored and honestly if today ends the same he might as well go home and hang with Bez instead, or Luca, maybe that’ll piss him off—he laughs silently at the thought.

Speaking about Bez, Pecco also reached out to him, expressing his frustration, which he usually doesn’t do. His friend just laughs at him, like it’s some sort of a ridiculous situation that Pecco couldn’t get into. He needs real solutions, thank you, not another week of Bez turning him into their latest inside joke. While it’s definitely happening, he finally gives his answer, which Pecco remembers as: “Just seduce him with your cute little ass, duh.”

It isn’t like he never thinks of it, but most of the time it’s Vale who initiates everything. He doesn’t like to mutter his thoughts, and he likes how the older man never forces him to do so, reading them instead. Nobody ever did it so perfectly like Valentino.

Anyways, again, Pecco in front of Vale’s office door, bottomless, except for those white lacey panties Vale really likes, just to rile him up. Just to make sure it works. His heart is thumping loudly against his chest and he’s seriously contemplating whether he should just abort the whole mission. What if he embarrasses himself?— It’s already too late. His knuckles already knocked on the door when his thoughts were running.

“Come in.” It’s too late.

He can’t back out now.

Holding the door handle, he pushes the door slowly, not wanting to make any sound. His head is ducked but he can still see Vale sitting behind his desk, that’s fully covered with printed papers, his hands are busy typing on his laptop, anti-radiation glasses sitting on his nose. Pecco doesn’t immediately walk closer, just enough to close the door behind. The sound of it added to Pecco’s silence makes Vale raise his head—the sound of keys click-clacking stops when he takes a glance of his younger lover.

Pecco still doesn’t dare to look him in the eye.

Yet he knows that Vale’s looking at him—observing. And he might’ve been rubbing his thighs together under the attention, hands toying with the bottom hem of his gray hoodie. He can hear Vale inhaling his breath—

“Do you need anything?” Those greying blue eyes are definitely staring at him, like they can see and find Pecco’s deepest thoughts. It makes him shudder. He dares himself to look back at them, still he can’t seem to verbalize any response, his mouth is just hanging open. Vale looks unimpressed, then raises his eyebrow.

“You know I can’t help you if you don’t say anything, right?”

He stays quiet, then nods—once, really slow.

“Come here,” he says, voice firm.

With the energy he has left, Pecco walks into the side of Vale’s chair, the man already waiting for him.

“So, do you have anything to tell me?” His eyes trail down to Pecco's naked pale thighs. “Perhaps…show me?”

Pecco’s breath hitches. He bites down his lip as he raises his hoodie up, giving Vale a clear view on what’s underneath. He might’ve felt like Vale’s eyes darken at that moment too, yet he looks unimpressed. He wants to run away—not good with rejection, huh? But before he can do anything, Vale’s palm is already touching him through the laces, thin enough Pecco can feel the calluses he got from riding. He whimpers, and Vale still looks unimpressed. Then his eyes are back on the paperwork on the table, hand unmoving.

“As you can see, I’m pretty much occupied at the moment.” Hearing that, Pecco decides to pretend that the floor is interesting to look at. “Unless, you promise to be good as I finish these all.” He almost snapped his neck looking at Vale again.

It’s silent at first. Until he whispers, “I’ll be—,” stuttering over the cold air and his nervousness, “I’ll be good. Promise.”

Vale hums, a slight interest in his voice. “Then,” he starts, “everything off, except for this.” He pulls the elastic band of Pecco’s white underwear, making him yelp in surprise. Then Pecco goes on immediately to take his hoodie off, nothing under it of course, he wouldn’t want to waste Vale’s time. (And he has waited enough already.)

He shudders when he feels the cold air hit his bare skin, hands fidgeting in front of his crotch. Vale doesn’t seem like he likes that though—he slaps Pecco’s hands lightly, he makes a small sound. “Elbows on the desk, bend over,” he commands.

Hesitating at first, he complies when Vale just keeps on watching him, waiting.

However, Vale gets his hand off from him, taking a paper and pen instead. Pecco can’t really see what he’s actually writing from his point of view, thinking he has been discarded so Vale can sign important paperworks. He wants to demand more, ask why Vale is doing this to him, but he has promised that he’ll be good. So he stays.

The clock is ticking. It might’ve been Vale’s 20th paper yet he hasn’t touched Pecco a bit, nothing. And his elbows are slowly hurting. He has revised his goal from being fucked just to—controlling his breath. It feels endless.

“Vale…?”

The sound of paper rustling stops. He hears Vale inhaling his breath.

“Did I tell you to speak?”

“N-no, but—” There is fear in his voice. Afraid of what Vale will do—curses himself inside because he wants to know what happens next. He wants Vale to be cruel. His cunt clenches over the possible narratives. He sucks his breath again.

It’s echoing in the room when Vale drags his office chair to get close to Pecco, just enough to behind Pecco by hand. He knows and feels that he’s there, but he doesn’t turn around to see. His thoughts are running again on every possible scenario, there are too many. Too many to his liking, because Vale can do anything and he’ll accept it. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have his preferences though, he’d very much accept if Vale finally gets his fingers in him—or just sticks his dick inside—he doesn’t care. Anything, at this point.

Then Vale scans over his desk again, as if it’s much more interesting rather than a naked Pecco bending over it, as if there’s answers or guides on what he’ll do to him next. It seems like he finds something though, by the way his fingers are playing with the thin cloth right above his pussy. Unconsciously, he closes his eyes as Vale pulls it aside, his fingertips brushing on the lips. Everything has barely started yet.

He was slowly rejoicing, thinking finally Vale is giving him what he wants, because he’s prodding inside, touching his wet velvety walls, spreading him. Soft whimpers were leaving his lips, unable to hold it with any of his hands since they’re holding his weight on the table. That’s until he felt something else—cold with a way too smooth surface to be Vale’s finger, being pushed inside him. He chokes on his own spit, then Vale’s fingers are gone. Pecco looks behind, trying to figure out what’s actually happening.

He almost fell from his elbows because it’s also when Vale decides to push the object deeper, nudging at that spot he really likes, then leaves it inside. It isn’t quite enough for what he actually needs, he whines in protest.

Vale doesn’t look happy with his reaction. “Since you can’t be patient, we’ll have to make do,” he says, Pecco doesn’t understand—what he knows that there’s a cylindrical object shoved up his pussy and he’s desperately clenching around it because that’s the only attention Vale has given him this far.

“Let’s see,” Vale continues, opening his top drawer. He’s definitely searching for something and he’s taking his time, which makes Pecco’s nervousness spike up even more. Pecco finally gets his answer when he sees Vale pulling out a bunch of pens. Another thing that he realizes at that moment: Vale has placed his fountain pen inside of him. The one that he was using to sign the now stacked papers on the desk. His head sinks between his shoulders at the realization.

Vale’s holding even more in his hand. Looking at him sweetly yet cruel, he says, “Since you need to be filled so badly,” intentionally brushing his fingertip around where the pen meets Pecco’s hole, “hold all of these for me, yeah?” He smiles, and Pecco mentally curses himself again at how the idea is turning him on even more. Vale’s treating him like some sort of a pen cup and he’s horny about it.

“Can you be good for me this time, principessa?” He asked as if Pecco wouldn’t instantly say yes, yes. Adding the pet name into it is just another part of Vale’s cruelty, because he knows, knows, that it’ll always work on Pecco. He nods once, twice.

“Speak. I won’t continue if you don’t want this.”

He lets out a sound—like a hiccup, but he’s not even crying, yet. “Yes, Vale,” he answers, it isn’t as loud as how Vale was ordering him, still he feels like his own voice is ringing in his head. Hearing his response, the older man then pushes another unused pen beside the one that’s already plugged deep inside. Pecco whines around it, clenches his fist when it just smoothly goes inside. He’s literally giving Vale proof that he’s been preparing himself judging from how loose he is—not too loose for the tiny objects though.

The whole process itself is slow, Pecco loses count at some point—focusing more on how all the pens are rubbing against each other inside, the tips nudging at his walls. One thing when Vale’s done inserting them though: they started slipping out of his pussy, even more if he purposely clenched. Vale adjusted them back at the first seconds, but after some time, he just retrieved his attention back to his work, leaving Pecco hopeless. On one hand, he can’t push them back in himself because he doesn’t want to fall on the desk’s surface. While on the other side, if any of the pens fall out he'll definitely disappoint Vale. He's left with no choice but just to pray that he wouldn’t be too sensitive after sometime because he'll probably drop them.

He thought he was getting a hold of it, until Vale looked over his ass and touched around, trying to find which one of the pens that are plugged inside Pecco is his signature pen. He eventually found it, but Pecco had to go through Vale messing around with the orders and—they kept stimulating him all over his insides. Maybe one has even nudged his cervix—or two, he isn't sure himself when his vision is already getting cloudy and numb.

Still, Vale acts like everything is just normal. Writing with his Pecco’s slick covered pen then he’s back prodding around Pecco’s cunt. He looks like he’s calculating on where he’ll actually shove the pen this time, knowing damn well wherever he puts it, it’ll mess with the previous arrangement again. It also doesn’t end there, he repeats it every time he needs to do another paper—there couldn’t be too many documents, could it? It’s impossible to tell if Vale’s just playing with him at this point, hoping that he’ll fuck this up somewhere. He knows that Pecco is a hard worker. Even when he writhes at any contact, his lip is probably bleeding from him biting it, his arms numb, and his pussy can’t stop producing more fluids.

So, he tries his luck. “V-vale…?” He calls out to him.

“Hm? Do you need anything?” This mean old fucker.

With his hands now free out of papers and pens, he put one instead on Pecco’s lower back, caressing it softly, wiping the sweat there.

“I can’t hold it anymore,” Pecco says, voice choking out. It’s true, he can feel his insides tightening more as time went by, and some of the pens are probably half— no, almost out now.

Vale looks at him, a mock pity showing on his face and an upside down smile. “You need my help, Pecchino?” Usually, he’ll complain over the name, anything but the one that was given to him as a kid—and he doesn’t like Vale treating him like one. However this time, he’s already distracted with the generous offering Vale is giving him.

“Uh-uh,” he sniffles, “need you, please.”

Then Vale’s thumb is spreading his pussy lip to the side, making him whine, “N-no…” He wiggles his ass back so his hole will catch into Vale’s thumb, but it doesn't seem to work. He whines frustratedly at the failed attempt.

The attempt doesn’t go unnoticed. “What is it? No?” Vale slaps his right ass cheek, it stings. He makes another choked sound, cunt clenching. And for the first time after the last half an hour, one of the pens fell out. His heart sinks at the realization, beat increasing per second. He doesn’t dare to turn to look at Vale, freezing in place.

There’s silence before Vale asks him, “I’m offering you help and that’s how you thank me?” He gives the left one a harsh slap too, making Pecco tremble. His bottom half is now giving up. “You should be glad then, because I’m feeling generous,” he says as he puts his palm behind all the pens. “I will still help you.”

Pecco doesn’t understand what he means—he gets zero time to think because while he’s confused, Vale decides to push the bundle together. His tongue falls out and he accidentally bites it. “Too deep…!”

But Vale ignores his cries and starts thrusting them inside and out instead, until his fingers are also wet from Pecco’s slick. All he can hear is now the constant muffled moans and the wet smacking sound coming from Pecco himself. He sees how the boy’s legs try to close, toes curling, but he brings his free hand to hold them apart, gripping his left thigh harshly.

“That good, eh? Aren’t you gonna thank me now?” He teases, knowing damn well Pecco’s probably gone.

“Uh, no more— Vale, please, ngh—” he tries to beg, hoping Vale will hear him out. He doesn’t want to cum over being fucked by bunch of pens. Unfortunately, that’s exactly the goal in Vale’s mind, so he picks up his pace, intentionally hitting the same weak spot Pecco has inside.

He’s not usually a loud person, but at some point his legs just give up and keep shivering—he feels very very full down there, he needs to burst out the feeling—he starts not minding any business of what kind of sounds he’s making. His arms have given up a long time ago too, their only fate is being pressed against his wet chest as his eyes roll back, and the dam breaks. It’s an embarrassingly long process, his pussy keeps on contracting, like when he’s trying to milk Vale’s cock inside. There are sounds of things dropping on the floor, he knows that it’s those pens—he can’t pay any attention aside from reaching his peak. A strong spurt of liquid follows, dirtying his thighs then legs, some splashing into Vale’s pants, lastly onto the floor.

He blinks several times, chest heaving and breathing heavily. He might’ve lost his consciousness for some seconds—and he feels weirdly empty. His mind starts running—

Vale clicks his tongue.

His promise. Pecco has completely forgotten about it.

Instead of addressing anything, Vale’s palm is back on Pecco’s cunt again. Resting just right above it, touching, with no movements. Pecco wants to call out to him, ask, beg for forgiveness, but he doesn’t dare when he sees the dark look on the older man’s face.

“You know, I thought you were actually being good for me,” he begins, “But you just have to disappoint me.”

Pecco tries to argue, “No, please. Vale, I-I’m sorry.”

“Was it not simple enough? Hm?” Vale asks, and once again Pecco’s heart starts beating even faster, he doesn’t answer. Admiring the sight in front of him, he raises his hand and continues, “Hold your cunt open for me.”

Pecco heard it loud and clear. Not wanting to disappoint Vale even more, he slowly works his arms behind, letting his chest and cheek fall on the desk. Vale doesn’t say anything, even when he takes his time preciously to adjust his fingers to present himself as perfectly as possible. From Vale’s seat, he can see the organ twitching, red, and still wet—cum or piss, nobody knows—from the previous act.

“Good. Now, I need you to count for me,” he tells him, with an overly sweet tone you might get fooled by it. “And don’t move your hands anywhere, got it?”

“Yes, Vale,” he answers, this time knowing what will happen next.

They rarely do this, only once before, probably, and it was accidental. They were having a tender love making and Vale taps softly over where they’re connected, which quickly turns into him admitting that he wanted Vale to do it harder, to make it hurt. From then, if he upsets Vale, he’d have him bend over his lap, or any other surface, so Vale can slap his cunt until it’s red. But it’s also months ago, he’s surprised that the man still remembers it. Even so, bringing it up again when he’s overly stimulated.

The first strike comes shortly after his answer. “One,” he counts, voice small.

“I can’t hear you,” Vale replies as he raises his hand again. “Louder.” He lays another hit.

“Two!” It’s embarrassing how pathetic he sounds right now, Pecco thinks. It’s also embarrassing how much he wants this to last.

“That’s my boy.” It’s barely done and Vale’s already back praising him. He slaps him again, this time making sure it really landed on Pecco’s sensitive clit. The scream that’s followed by his next count is sure beautiful for his ears.

The next ones weren’t easy to get over with, as the number gets higher, Vale also increases the pain, ignoring the one he’s also feeling on his palm. Pecco’s pussy juice has been dirtying it anyway. At the count of seven, Pecco’s already shaking on the table.

“We’re almost done, come on. It’s your fault I’ve to do this.” The lie comes off his tongue easily.

He lands the next hit, Pecco immediately counts, “Eigh—” as Vale feels another weak spurt on his palm, wetting it. His boy is on his limit and he knows it, his eyes are watery and he loves how pretty he’s looking right now. His skin is turning red all over the place, matching his overstimulated and sensitive pussy.

Before he does the last two, he lets his thumb play and press on Pecco’s red peeking clit. The boy yelped, clearly not expecting it. Vale shushes him, “It’s alright, you’re almost there.” He lets go of it, two short mean slaps follow after. He couldn’t hear Pecco counting them, he doesn’t mind, because in return, he squirts against Vale’s palm instead. He just reached another orgasm over Vale slapping his cunt, his whole body trembling.

The whole image is filthy and sinful, Vale wishes he can take a picture to treasure it in his mind. Pecco always has a high-tolerance when it comes to pain, and he can’t lie, it amazes him. He sounded so sweet when Vale landed the last hit, his orgasm numbing him. It leaves him with another task though: to clean the room out and his now passed out lover. But he knows his priorities.

Pecco definitely passed out because when he opens his eyes, they’re in a whole different room. He’s wrapped in new clothes and a warm blanket. Looking around, he notices that he’s in Vale’s— their shared room. He feels clean, even when his lower half still kind of hurts. Vale must’ve bathed and moved him here. The man in question enters the room not long after with a cup of water in hand, approaching him.

Vale sits on his side, softly moving the curls that are covering Pecco’s eyes. “Awake already?” He hands him the water. Pecco accepts it as he straightens his sitting position, now they’re looking each other in the eyes.

“Mhm.” He takes a sip from the water. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

Vale looks at him like he’s ridiculed. “Of course I had to. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“But you did hurt me back there,” Pecco replies jokingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

That gained a chuckle from Vale. “That’s because you were naughty though. Who taught you to do that, hm?”

Pecco rolls his eyes, then he sets his cup aside. “No one.” He tries to ignore a Bez-shaped devil yelling on his shoulder. “I had to do it myself because we haven’t done anything for days,” he complains, but his tone stays lighthearted.

His confession makes Vale rethink the things he had done for the past days. Pecco had a point and he does feel bad about it. He didn’t expect that things would pile up when he had planned a whole week just for them both.

“You’re right. I’m sorry that I’ve ignored you, amore.” He pressed a light kiss into the corner of Pecco’s lips.

Instead of answering, Pecco chooses to pull his older lover closer, his arms connecting behind Vale’s neck. “Kiss me properly,” he whispers, looking into his eyes.

“Yes, of course. I’ll give you as much as you want,” Vale answers as the tips of their noses touch, his hands moving to hold Pecco’s waist gently. They fall into the rhythm not so long after. They still have a whole weekend ahead of them, and Vale is making sure that they’ll spend every second of it together. After all, he’ll do anything for his boy.

As for the white panties, Pecco will have to go through Vale’s laundry to find it. Not that he’ll do it, because Vale has proposed that they should pick new lingeries instead for him to wear.