#rodolfo cod

Alejandro Vargas

Dampness sticks to your skin. Moisture blooms on the aged concrete walls. Distantly, you hear water dripping, slow and steady like a leaky faucet.

“It’s not much,” comes Alejandro’s voice as he enters the small room. “But you’re safe here.”

Here is a hole in the ground, just a rotten board covering a metal door in the earth, and a ladder leading to semi-darkness. The safe house Alejandro brought you to is completely remote, a sanctuary from the fallout following the assassination of the leader of the region’s cartel. A murder you helped execute with your red-painted lips.

Small and cramped, the lone room in the underground safehouse is sparse. There’s a worn mattress on a metal frame with a few blankets piled in the middle. In the corner is a faded wood bookcase minus a shelf and smelling of rot.

It’s only a few days.

Alejandro coughs, your gaze shifting from the bookcase to him.

“They don’t know it’s me?” you ask, voice cracking.

Alejandro’s mouth twitches. “Have a shower.” He jerks his head to the right. “Through that door.”

Frowning, you step forward. Alejandro shifts back as you peer out in the short hall. There’s a ladder, and two doors, one of which stands open. From it, you can just make out the edge of a cracked sink.

“Down here?”

Alejandro inclines his head. “Runs on a hand pump. Water won’t be warm. But it’ll do the job.” He reaches out, almost absently, lightly cradling your check. Gaze roaming, your savior frowns. “You’ll want the blood off you.”

Clarity comes, your arm rising, hand pressing to the front of your dress. It crackles and crunches, thick and hardened with blood. Not yours, but of the man that kept you, showed you off when his wife and kids weren’t around. Men with power love to parade their pretty things. Now, he’s composed of rotting flesh and splattered brain matter.

Alejandro’s hand drops to your elbow, “I’ll find you some clean clothes.”

Robotically nodding, you shuffle toward the bathroom. There’s a toilet, the cracked sink with a matching cracked mirror, and shower that’s just a off-pale green curtain, a showerhead, and a drain in the floor.

You don’t shut the door, stripping in full view, turning the crank in the wall. Behind the wall, a pipe rattles, and then clear cold water bursts from the showerhead. It pebbles your nipples, brings a shiver to your skin, but it’s washing away the blood, softening it until is runs down your body and circles the drain.

“I’ve brought—”

Alejandro’s voice falters. You glance over your shoulder, finding him standing in the doorway, gaze averted from your naked body. Too focused on removing the blood, you never shut the curtain.

He clears his throat. “Found a towel. Clean clothes.” Failing, Alejandro’s gaze shifts to your body, works his way up until he meets your eyes. Your savior glances away again. “Have a few storage boxes,” he explains, as if you wanted to know where he found them. “Smell a bit musty.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, reaching for the offered towel as the water sputters out.

Alejandro walks in, bringing the towel closer. He stands there, stoic and observing, watching as you dry yourself and dress. The clothes don’t fit, too large, but it’ll do. It’s better than the blood.

“I’ll take the floor,” says Alejandro, backing away.

“No,” you say quickly, darting forward without thought, grasping Alejandro’s wrist.

He’s surprised as you, lips parting slightly as he takes you in. This isn’t a man you’ve just met. For months, Alejandro sought you out, stalking your every step, emerging from the shadows when prying eyes were absent. Always flirting, always insisting, negotiating to the point of exasperation. Fear came first, for your life and his, but you were never caught, not even gossiped about.

His favored would never. Not the gorgeous thing that sat in his lap. That spent more time with him than his wife and kids. That never had a choice to begin with because you don’t say no when a drug kingpin offers to pay for your abuela’s cancer treatment in exchange for being his mistress. The monster that paraded you in front of his men, fucked you in front of them, enjoyed coming inside you without birth control but never liked when you ended up pregnant. Those always had to go away. Can’t have bastard children running around.

Alejandro whispers your name the same way he did when he dragged you from the slaughterhouse. Bullets flew. Blood sprayed. You, curled up on the ground, crying. And then Alejandro, wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up and away.

“I don’t bite,” you smile.

Alejandro chuckles, the corner of his mouth quirking. “That’s a shame.”

Your stomach flips, squeezes. This is the Alejandro who pursued you, gained your trust, and helped you escape. The one who flirted with you, the man you eagerly awaited until his next appearance. Alone with him, hidden in this bunker, you’ve never felt safer.

“Alejandro,” you murmur, breathy and soft.

You place your hands on his chest, the rough fabric of his uniform scratching against your skin. Pressing in, you keep your gaze low and demure, focusing on a small strap near your right hand, toying with it but not loosening.

“We shouldn’t,” he rasps, needy.

His tone goes straight to your pussy. After meeting Alejandro, you thought of him during sex, picturing him over you, his hands on your body. It’s the only way you could show desire or orgasm, pretend that you were even remotely interested in the man paying for your abuela’s cancer treatment.

“But you want to,” you say, tugging on the strap. “And I want to.”

Let you choose this for yourself. Have some control for once.

Temptation is easy. Alejandro needs no more convincing.

He grasps the back of your neck, banishing separation. One arm snakes around your back, and your hands slide up to lock behind him. Months of tension evaporate in a second, morphing into desperation. Fresh clothes forgotten, Alejandro yanks them off you, baring your body. He drops to his knees, kissing your stomach and hips, spreading your thighs with his hand, placing kisses there, too, only to part your pussy with his fingers and give your clit a little lick.

Eyes rolling back, you fist his hair, hips arching upward into his mouth. Alejandro’s hands grasp your ass. The world tilts and you’re on your back, the worn mattress beneath you, and Alejandro’s head buried between your thighs.

Toes curling, everything in you sharpens. A hard swirl of his tongue and you’re already falling apart, choking out a sob. Years of faking it and the real thing slams you into the floor, crushing you under its fist.

“Wanted to be here forever,” groans Alejandro, lightly biting your inner thigh. He turns his head, bites the other, licks a slow line up your pussy. “Worth the fucking wait.”

Alejandro pushes up and over you, pinning you to the bed. Your mouths connect, tasting yourself and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke. Still in uniform, Alejandro is ceaseless, starved for your kisses, claiming you like he’s always owned you.

You spread your legs wider, reaching between your bodies. A large bulge meets your palm. Alejandro’s hips flex, rubbing his erection against your hand. Hunger chews beneath your skin in urgent need, wanting out, wanting Alejandro in. In similar desire, Alejandro places his hand over yours briefly before yanking at his zipper and button.

“Keep the uniform on,” you gasp, helping in easing his pants open, to admire the way his cock slides out, bouncing slightly as it’s released.

A haggard groan leaves his lips, dripping like honey as you explore him. He’s heavy and thick in your hand, warm and throbbing. Your legs fall wider, heels hooking behind his thighs to guide him forward. Alejandro’s forehead dips to rest against your own, his gaze glued to your face, watching every little movement, every expression.

You guide him in, heels digging, urging him deeper.

“I was always there,” he rasps, rocking his hips slowly, his cock slowly dragging in and out of your pussy. “Never alone.” His thrusts slowly increase. “You were never alone.”

The next thrust is hard. You gasp, lips parting. Alejandro smiles, cheeky and soft, still gazing into your eyes as you come undone.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Rudy’s heart is a bent branch close to snapping.

On the other side of the bed, the only bed, you unclip straps, removing gun holster and knives until you’re down to just your clothes. Rudy does the same but his fingers are sweaty, his gaze busy watching your slow removal, as if he’s not in the room at all.

He clears his throat, and you turn. “I can sleep in the chair,” he says flatly because it’s the only restraint he has.

You glance at the off-red armchair in the corner. “The cuck chair?”

“There’s only one bed.”

You arch an eyebrow. “That a problem?”

“Don’t start,” he breathes, removing his gun, checking the safety. If he unloads and loads and unloads it’ll keep him busy and not looking at you.

“Rudy.”

“Sergeant Major,” he corrects.

There needs to be distance. Alejandro did this on purpose, shoved the two of you together because he keeps asking why the two of you aren’t a thing anymore.

“Sergeant Major,” you repeat, softly, enunciating. Rudy surrenders, looking your way, only to find you topless, breasts on display. “My apologies.”

He glances away quickly, the back of his neck flaming. “How’s Rose?”

“Rose?” you snort. In his peripheral, you bend, removing your pants. You’re not wearing underwear. “On first name basis now?”

Rudy inhales sharply, exhaling slowly. “Your mother. How is she?”

“She asks about you. Wants to know why I’m not bringing that handsome man around anymore. She thinks I did something to run you off.” Rudy remains silent. “Did I?”

“No,” he finally says, removing his jacket and then his shirt.

You’re completely naked now and on display, not caring to cover yourself up. Rudy can’t help it, his dick is hard and throbbing, his mind racing toward old memories of you begging for him to fuck you.

“You shower first,” he grunts, undoing his belt buckle.

“There’s room for two.”

Rudy curses and turns on you, ready to swat the idea aside. Words escape him, leaving him stranded and staring, lips parting as he takes in the full view of you, and how you saunter closer.

Reaching for his buckle, you slide the belt from of the loops, dropping it the floor. “Or we can go to bed. Shower in the morning.”

Absently, he drags his fingers over your shoulder and down your arm, trailing back up to rest his hand between your breasts. Your heartbeat upticks, chest heaving slightly with anticipation. The feeling grows. Become bright and hot and red.

Grasping the backs of your thighs, Rudy lifts and dumps you onto the bed, following after. Pinning one leg to the bed with his hand, he lifts the other, locking it against him, your foot in the air. Rudy doesn’t need to touch to know how wet you are.

“How long were you thinking about me?” he growls, control slipping.

You fist the sheets, tilting your hips to give him better access. “The whole time,” you admit.

Rudy shouldn’t, but he does.

You welcome him without resistance. There’s no softness in him, only carnal need. He thrusts, your body bouncing but unable to go anywhere. His hold is powerful, vice-like. Rudy needs to fuck you, hard.

Head falling back, you moan, the end strangled as your pussy squeezes him. Rudy releases your thigh to palm one breast, teasing the nipple between his fingers.

“Tell your mamá she’ll see that handsome man again.”

Your lips form the start of words. Rudy silences them, crushes it into dust in the air. He brings your legs together, turning you onto your side. Bracing himself with his hands flat on the bed, his thrusts quicken. Your hand comes around his throat. Squeezes.

You had been trying to qualify to be a professional Ballerina for longer than you can even remember. You pushed yourself to be the best, you would stop at nothing to accomplish your goal. Then why were you sitting on this stupid stage in tears? Realizing your dream would probably never be a reality and you should just stop doing this stupid class. You couldn't be as good as the star of your class, so what was the point of being second best when you could never be the best? 

You thought if you practiced harder, doing it every free moment you had, that your coaches would finally recognize your hard work and acknowledge your blood, sweat, and tears. No such thing would happen though. You're sure you are just another nameless face in the see of people your coaches teach. 

Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo Parra. Well know competitive ballerina dancers before they retired some years ago. They were each other's partners before they took the world by storm; grew up dancing with each other since they could walk.  

Now though, they coached classes and were some of the hardest coaches you’ve had to please, but many of their students became big names thanks to them.  

You wish you could say that shelling out every little cent you could scrounge up was worth it to attend their class, but who were you kidding? They had their favorites, and it showed. The lucky ones would get the best roles and get to show the others how to properly do the dance right for the entire class to see. 

Your coaches could call out every little flaw they saw in one's performance like some sort of freaks of nature that could pick up such minute details. They could also praise you to the point of feeling like you were on cloud nine; at least that is what others have described it as. 

Even if they never saw any flaws with your dancing, they hadn't seen anything praiseworthy either. It was the main reason you were pushing yourself so hard to the point of helplessly sobbing on the recital stage and reconsidering ever dancing in the first place. All the money and time wasted and for nothing to come of it. 

Maybe your sobs were what kept you from hearing the large double doors opening from the back of the auditorium as two men slowly walked towards the stage. 

"Now who could cause you cry such sad tears, Detka?" An unknown Russian voice questioned, making you want to disappear from this mortal plane out of sheer embarrassment. 

You were slow to look up at the audience that was never supposed to be here. You are sure you look like a mess from crying, swollen face and red rimmed eyes. 

The sight of the two men just solidified your wish to have never existed as you realized who they were. THE Nikolai and THE John Price! Two of the best ballerinas known to man were standing in front of the stage you were meant to be practicing on. Both having retired young for separate unknown reasons. 

You don't know what individual you spited in your lifetime to not only be a nameless nobody in Alejandro and Rudy's class, but also to meet two more legends while crying over not being perfect. 

Your lack of an answer caused John to move closer to the stage to better talk to you. "Lover upset you? This your little hideaway to get away from it all?" 

You wish it could be that. Maybe in a way it was. You hated to admit that seeing Alejandro and Rodolfo dance together, like they were attuned to each other’s very heartbeat, had made you unreasonably jealous.  

You wish you could find someone who looked at you like they looked at each other, but the dice seemed to not be in your favor. Your ability to find a partner was just one heartbreak after another. You couldn’t understand what you were doing wrong to be considered unworthy of such love.  

You couldn’t even get a date since you started Rudy and Alejandro’s class for fuck’s sake! You would go on one date before they were ghosting and blocking you. It was likely another reason for working on your dance routine every free minute you had.  

You think that might be why you were so jealous of your coaches for having a love like theirs. They were so lucky to have each other, and they didn’t even know it! 

Currently, you looked like a complete loser as you sat on the stage at the failure that was your life. You should just pack your bags and go home. This dream was a complete mistake. 

You can see the concerned looks from your IDOLS which is just adding salt to a very painful wound. You try to brush off your messy state and their concern with a simple ‘I’m fine’ before trying to gather what is left of your pride and scurry away.  

Forever a nobody. 

John grabs your arm before you can flee from their sight, once you climb down from the stage while clutching your bag. His grip is a little too tight but when you see a poor, broken doll looking so sad, could he really be blamed? He couldn’t let their precious doll disappear the moment he finally gets to meet them. 

He has heard Rudy and Alejandro talk about you all too much. Their photos of you, that they managed to get while you were unaware, did not do you justice. You were truly such a stunning doll. But now was not the time to focus on how much John wished to kiss you stupid if it would make those tears disappear.  

“You look anythin’ but fine. It must be bad t’make a gorgeous ballerina cry.” His words were soft and honestly played too well into your fragile heart. If only you could get that from one of your failed love interests.  

You shouldn’t be considering telling John every little thing that has made you want to quite tonight or be thinking about kissing him. But with a face like that? Just one look could strip you bear of any guards you put up to protect yourself.  

But you can’t be thinking about kissing him because your pretty sure Nikolai and him are together, even though neither has publicly stated so. You were one of many fans who were convinced they were.  

“Rough day.” You mumble, trying to twist yourself free. The man was unbelievably strong; It was near impossible to get your wrist out of his hold. 

“Liar.” He said with a seriousness that honestly was scary on him. It caused you to recoil, which thankfully made him let go of you, but you were not free.  

Before you could turn to run while John was having an internal crisis over scaring you upon your first meet, Nikolai was blocking you from being able to move past them. 

The Russian smiled softly at you as he tried to ease your startled state once he had caught you by the shoulders. “No one wants to hurt you, ziaka. We are worried. You seem sad.”  

You know you look like a mess, but their concern was nice. Ballerinas could be cruel when you tried to take a spot they wanted or when you were considered a threat to them. After all, it is a dog-eat-dog world and only the strongest survived. 

You blame your weak state of mind and in desperate need of someone, who wasn’t trying to screw you over, as the reason you stayed and let them question what had caused your sorrow tonight.  

You also blame it for you not hearing two more people enter the auditorium and watch as you cried into John’s hug. 

Rudy was in a bit of a huff as they opened the doors to the auditorium. They were supposed to leave 10 minutes ago for a date with the others, but John and Nik never come by their office. After the day he had, Rudy had just about enough of everyone today. Their lesson went to utter shit with one performer twisting her ankle after her idiot partner dropped her. Not to mention, his adorable muse looked miserable the whole time. Normally, you would look at Alejandro and Rudy like they hung the moon and stars. Today though, you had barely looked at them and seemed to be lost in your head. 

Then Nik’s only response to Rudy’s annoyed text on their whereabouts was a blurry picture of John with a dancer. Rudy couldn’t discern what he was supposed to be looking at, but he assumed that one of his dancers was flirting with one of his partners.  

Oh, this day couldn’t get worse! 

Instead of him walking into, what he assumed was, a dancer overstepping and flirting with a very uninterested, but polite, John. He found his sweet muse, tears streaming down your face as you talked to his partner about something he couldn’t hear. The man pulled you close and let you cry into his chest, and it just made Rudy fall that much more in love with him. 

He shouldn’t be surprised that John could manipulate you into trusting him so easily, but it was rarer to see it nowadays. There hadn’t been a new muse in quite some time. 

Alejandro wrapped his arm around Rudy’s waist as he leaned in to whisper to him. “You were ready to rage hell and now you went all soft.” 

Rudy shot Alejandro a glare at his teasing as the two watched John expertly calm you down. He leaned back to reply to Alejandro, “You speak like you would not do the same.” 

The answering laugh eased some of Rudy’s annoyance. The man always had that effect on him. Like how just one look at you made Rudy want to destroy anything that got in your path. His lovers, and muse, just had that affected on him. 

Their moment of peace was broken as your eyes flicked in their direction, and you froze up like you had seen a ghost. Even from this distance, Rudy could see the panic in your eyes as you tried to slip free of John’s expert hold. 

Rudy’s content smile fell as his body moved before he could think. He marched down to join the three of you. His hands on your face guiding you to look at him as he softly questioned you. “Who made you cry like this?” He would tell you that he would kill them for you, but he figured you might not take that as a good thing. 

You stiffened as your, hot, soon to be ex-instructor held your face as if you were made of glass. This was not helping your weird jealousy issues or your severe loneliness.  

How could you not fall for him when he was busy worrying about your wellbeing? But he is married making him very unavailable. The fact caused your tears to rise all over again and now in front of your soon to be ex coaches. You really were a loser; no proper ballerina would have a breakdown over not being able to do their dance right and then break down to four GODS of the ballet world. 

Your tears worried the four greatly. John had just barely gotten you to open up about what you were crying about when they arrived. How you wanted to drop out, how you weren’t good enough, how you felt so invisible to Rudy and Alejandro. You had started to say something else about dating but it had become ineligible with your sobs. John had pulled you into a tight hug and let you just cry out your pain.  

Now that Rudy and Alejandro were here, it was as if all that progress had been reset. Did just the sight of your coaches cause that or was the thing you were trying to get out playing a part in your sadness? 

Rudy pulled you from John’s grasp, holding you tight like you would slip away if he eased up for even a moment. He whispered sweet nothings to you in Spanish, even though he knew you had no understanding of the language.  

He could see Nik talking to Alejandro, presumably talking about what transpired before they had come into the room. Rudy couldn’t make out what was being said over your cries, but he could see the look of hurt on Alejandro’s face as clear as day. 

Rudy shot him a confused look, but Alejandro had ignored it to lean into the two of you to whisper to you. “Mi Cielo, do you really think we don’t see you? See how much effort you put in for us? You are not invisible to us. Can barely keep our eyes off you.” 

Rudy feels the way you stiffen as if you're ready to bolt. Now Rudy gets it, and he must make it right. 

“Alejandro is right. Fucking perfect at everything you do, don’t need to correct you once. Don’t even need our help when you dance like that.” Rudy adds on to Alejadro’s words, causing your face to burn in a mix of embarrassment and flattery. You rarely got compliments from any of your previous coaches, only just a brief glance before they were on to the next dancer.  

Rudy’s hold and Alejandro’s hand on your back were not helping either. 

But you don’t believe them to be sincere; likely just flattery so you stay in their class and don’t complain about them being bad coaches to other dancers. No one truly thought you were that good or else you would get a lead role, but you didn’t even get considered for it even once! 

You pushed out of their arms as you stepped away to grab your bag, the one you had dropped when you started blubbering to John fucking Price about your every little problem, as unintelligible as it was. 

You rubbed at your eyes before you mustered up the courage to turn around and face them again. Nik and John looked concerned, while Rudy and Alejandro look like you just slapped them across the face. You didn’t know why your pushing away from them would cause them to be so distraught. They hadn’t shown any reaction like that before in class. 

“I appreciate the attempt to console me, but there is no point. I’m done, I’m not taking your class anymore and I’m through with dancing.” You say in a near rush, then you are pushing past them and hurrying out the door of the auditorium.  

You were done trying to be perfect if you would just be a side character while someone else took the spotlight. You couldn’t spend your entire career being a nobody even though you spent countless hours and ludicrous amounts of money to be in the best of the bests class to just end up being a washed-up ballerina one day. 

You dug around your bag for your keys as you pushed past the entry doors of the ballet studio, ignoring the rain as it pelted down on you. 

Great. Of course, it had to fucking rain while you were having the worst day of your life. Like the universe wanted to spite you. 

You could only sigh in frustration while looking for your keys. You finally managed to grab your keys out of your bag when you hear shouts of your name, turning around to see who it is. You want to both scream in frustration and runaway out of embarrassment as you see Alejandro rushing outside after you. You assume to get you to stay in his class or get you to go back inside so you can change out of your leotard and pointe shoes. 

It was stupid to walk outside in your pointe shoes; they were probably ruined now. You would have to break in a new pair if you wanted to use them to dance as a hobby now instead of your future career. You just couldn’t be in that room anymore. All four of their behaviors were odd. Made you feel like there was an elephant in the room that no one was addressing. 

You were ready for the scolding for taking the cowards way out, you were ready to possibly be berated for letting everything get you to the point of quitting in the middle of the year and forcing your teachers to rework the dance with one less dancer or get a brand new one they would have to train in a short time frame. 

You weren’t ready for him to kiss you like he would die if he didn’t.  How he pulled you close to his body like he wished you would meld into one being. It was like everything you dreamed a kiss with him would feel like. Burning fire and intense passion.  

You wished this could be the start of your love story. A tired ballerina tries to leave the studio only to be chased after by their hot teacher who kisses them like he wished to the whole time. But this was not a fairy tale or love story. He was happily married to Rodolfo, and you were a nobody to them. 

You blame kissing him back just as intensely due to your whirlwind of emotions with the knowledge that you will leave here with the shame of having kissed a married man and enjoyed it to the fullest as this will forever be just a fantasy to you. 

But for Alejandro, it was like everything he had been doing to one day have you had finally come true. Sure, he’s methods were cruel and caused you to sob on the stage after practice, but it was worth it in the end. He just needed to break their doll down a little and make you desperate enough to do what he and the others wanted.  

Now they could enjoy you to the fullest. You would be showered in the love and worship you deserve, something your shitty wanna be lovers wouldn’t be able to do for you. Ghost was, thankfully, very intimidating and fantastic at scaring away any potential suiters that could get in the way.  

He finally had you in his arms, getting to kiss you like how his numerous fantasies would start. You tasted as amazing as he imagined you would. His thoughts were taking hold of this moment and running wild. He wanted to see how breath taking you would be kissing his, soon to also be your, lovers. You would make the most divine picture in one of their laps, he could already see it. 

The shame snuck up on you quickly once the two of you parted your kiss for air. You pulled away from him, ready to turn around and go home. Pretend what happened tonight was simply a bad dream, but he didn’t let you. You were dragged right back into his hold as he whispered in your ear over the sound of the storm overhead. “Believe me now? I have been wanting to do that since I met you the first day of class. Rudy will be mad I got to kiss you first, but I think we can make it up to him.” 

We? Rudy wanted to kiss you? Since the first day of ballet class?! You must be hallucinating because there was no possible way that you would be so lucky in any lifetime. 

“You goin’ t’stand out in that rain all night or come back inside?” John yelled from the entry door that he leaned against, Nik and Rudy right behind him as the three take in the scene. 

Fuck, you were breath taking even when soaking wet and wearing a clueless pout. 

Nik smiled to himself as he saw the picture Rudy took before John called out to you two. He knows the others will be jealous about not getting to be here right now, but you would be theirs by the end of the night and they would get to enjoy you with them. 

You were screwed. Not only did you kiss one of your coaches, but two well-known ballerinas and his husband were watching everything go down. Your reputation would be torn to shreds! You would be cast out of the dance community for being a slut who tried to get with their coach for ulterior motives, such as getting a better part, while knowing he was married. 

Alejandro glanced back to the others, a wide and bright smile, that could be seen for miles, on his face. A man truly satisfied with the work he put in to get his prize. 

 He attempted to bring you both inside, get to pass around your sweet lips with the others as a sort of reward, but you didn’t budge an inch. He turned to see what was stopping you only to see the look of horror and fear on your face. 

Right, you were still oblivious to their polycule that him and Rudy were slowly trying to set you up to join. His men were easy to convince. A beauty like that? Irresistible to not want to get a bite of. And they would make sure no one tried to steal you from them. 

Alejandro pulled you into his side and leaned down for you to hear him over the rain, “Come inside. Let us explain before you runaway?” He made it sound like a question, but it was not that. You would get dragged inside whether you liked it or not. He didn’t care how he got you inside, be it kicking and screaming or going quietly, as long as you went with him. 

He can tell you didn’t trust him or his word as you kept switching your gaze between him and his three lovers patiently waiting for the two of you. He prayed you wouldn’t run off once they explained things, in the way that wouldn’t cause you to run away screaming. He really didn’t want to hurt you or make you fear them; he wanted to keep that sparkle in your eye for as long as he could. 

You hesitantly nodded and let him lead you inside, clearly still freaked out by the whole situation and unsure if you should run just yet. You really needed questions answered, such as if they truly meant what they said. Were you not a nobody to them? Then what were you if they never acknowledged you? 

The feeling of wanting to disappear never left you as you approached, instead it became more intense. You felt like you wanted to have a panic attack with the way your throat felt as if it was closing up. 

Even though the men showed no anger or jealousy towards you after what happened, a nagging feeling in the back of your mind reminds you that some people just had good poker faces. What would they do to you if they were jealous and took it out on you? 

Nik’s hand brushed your wet hair away from your stunning face. His smile was warm like a cool summer’s day when you were within his reach. His voice made your heart flutter as his soothing voice ushered you to go change out of your wet clothes so you five could talk without you freezing due to being soaked to the bone. 

Changing did not help the panic subside; it only made it worse. Any attempts to psyche yourself up as you changed, did nothing to help. You felt like a prisoner knowing their execution was just mere moments from now. 

You bit the inside of your cheek to help try to switch your mind off what the nerve-wracking next couple of minutes would be like as you joined the four in Rudy’s office.  

You didn’t pick up on the electrifying energy bouncing around the room before you entered. How every man in the room looked at you with unwavering want. The need to have you as theirs clawing like a beast under their skin. How they wanted to worship every inch of you like disciples of a powerful god.  

John had to clear his throat to remind his men of the task at hand, or they would devour you whole like starving wolves. That couldn’t happen till everyone had officially met, so his other boys could enjoy you with them. 

You stood anxiously in front of the door, like you were unsure where to be or what to do. John was happy to make that decision for you, pulling you into his lap like it was your throne since the beginning, as he finally gave you the answers you needed. 

To say it was a shock to learn your coaches were in a polycule with five other well-known ballerinas was an understatement. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would find out something like this from the idols you adored. But that was only the tip of the iceberg. 

You got to be informed of why you felt invisible to Alejandro and Rudy was because otherwise they would show too much favoritism to you. The reason you were never chosen for lead roles was due to the star pupil of your class, as you had assumed, was using the fact her mother was a chairman to keep the lead roles to herself. Anytime a prototype casting list was submitted with her daughter not as the spotlight, she would dangle the fact they would be dropped as coaches from a prestigious ballet company, and everyone would believe her word against theirs as she is a higher up. She was also privy to the fact that they were enamored by you and what a scandal it would be for the community to believe they were sleeping with a student.  

They had to fabricate a few things, but it caused you to relax and trust them. The lies were worth it in the end. 

This time, you could see their true feelings bleed through. The irritation from Alejandro and Rodolfo at being restrained from calling their own shots and their burning need for you having to be repressed or else they would suffer the consequences of disobeying someone who could have them ripped from their spots. 

John and Nik were more than happy to fill you in on Rudy and Alejandro’s obsession for you, while not showing you the darker desires they possessed. How they would gush to the others about how incredible you are, how your dancing shows all the effort you put in to getting better, how good you are at following orders. They did have to skip over the fact that watching you dance would make them salivate like wolves waiting for the right time to strike their pray down or their craving to hide you away from the would so that no one, but them, could see the remarkable dancer that others overlooked 

You nearly choked when they had invited you to join their polycule for dinner as an apology. You were torn on going, wouldn’t you be interrupting their date when you were never supposed to be joining them in the first place? Was it wrong for desperately wanting to say yes? 

The men were smooth talkers, who had you easily agreeing to join them. They knew how to worm their way under your skin and ease all your second-guessing and worries from your mind. Then again, they had been working out different ways for you to become theirs, so it was only natural that they learn how to manipulate you into fulfilling their desires. 

Kyle will admit he was pissed that the others were half an hour late to their scheduled dinner. He sat annoyedly bouncing his leg to keep himself from snapping at someone. The picture they sent of you kissing Alejandro in the rain with no explanation was only adding fuel to the fire.  

It’s normal for them to always be early for everything they do, having learned it from years of professional ballet dancing where being even a minute late for anything could cost you. For his boys to be late, and kissing you, was making him agitated in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. 

Simon’s hand went to the back of Kyle’s neck to trace circles into his skin and ease his irritation. He laned over to speak to him over the noise of the restaurant. “Easy, Angel. They can’t drag Luvie in here while tryin’ t’fight them.” 

Kyle did his best to follow Simon’s words, knowing that the picture had taken his mild annoyance and kicked it up tenfold. He had been dying to meet you for ages and now the others were taking their sweet time to bring you here. He almost wanted them to drag you in here and putting up a fight, if it wouldn’t cause you so much destress. 

Johnny hooked his head over Simon’s shoulder to look at Kyle. “Aye, think the wee lass will say ‘yes’?” 

The answer showed itself to them as a kiss was pressed to Kyle’s cheek opposite of where Simon and Johnny sat. He was quick to turn and see Alejandro there. 

“Took your sweet time.” Kyle sassed the man, letting him get a taste of his annoyance. 

“Apologies, Ángel. Have a suprise to make up for it.” Alejandro’s smile was devious as he glanced over his shoulder forcing Kyle to follow his line of sight. There you were, hair a little wet and undressed for the occasion, but you still looked like their sweet angel. 

You appeared timid and nervous as John, Nik, and Rudy finally joined them as you followed slightly behind. 

You avoided your gaze from the table of men you were joining as they kissed each other hello. You felt so out of place here; wearing your after-class clothes, still a bit wet from being in the rain, and now trying not to stare as your favorite idols were kissing like you weren’t present.  

The regret of agreeing was gnawing at your bones now. You didn’t know these guys, besides being a huge fan and being a student to two of them. You’re pretty sure Kyle, Johnny, and Simon are going to be pissed that the others decided to let you join without asking or warning them.  

Kyle could see how you shifted like you were ready to slip out of their sight now that everyone was together again. They just couldn’t have that now. “Who is the handsome bird you brought with you?” He questioned just loud enough to make you hear and keep you from disappearing like a shadow. 

He could see the way you locked up at being put on the spot, like a deer in headlights that was clueless on how to escape being hit. He also saw the way the others were staring intensely at you, they would not let you walk away from this dinner as the same person.  

“Aye, where did you find the lad?” Johnny added on, only fueling your visible unease, but making sure you were the focus now. 

As much as you wanted to get the hell out of the restaurant once you were there, you can confidently say that would have been a mistake. The irritation or awkwardness you expected was nowhere to be found as you settled down at the table with the men, after a little encouragement.  

No one acted as if you were brought here out of pity or false pretenses. The dinner was lovely, and the men were unbelievably sweet to you the whole time. You never once felt like a spectator, being included in all conversations being had. You even got the joy of getting to learn about their polycule. Who met who first, who were dating before, what caused them to realize their feelings, and even when the seven of them would be a thing. You thought it was kind of sweet that they wished to keep their relationship out of the spotlight and away from criticism. You got the pleasure of seeing their care for one another first hand and will forever cherish the memory of that dinner. 

 The dinner hadn’t stopped you from following through with your original plan the next day though. You scoured around for a new full-time job, looked for a different place of residence, hesitated on calling the studio and letting the receptionist know you would be dropping the class, and thought about when in the future you might want to do ballet again. First things first, you needed to figure out what your new normal would look like. 

Thankfully, your new lovers already had that covered for you once Alejandro and Rodolfo had been informed of your withdrawal. They would simply have to fix things themselves, such as making sure their silly muse could never escape them. They already were working on making your new room perfect for you, it was just a matter of time now. 

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𑣲 Alejandro, Rudy, Makarov, König, Horangi, Nikto

𑣿 Alejandro would have dropped to his knees and asked you to marry him if you weren't already getting married. He had heard you speak a few words in Spanish here and there but never full on confidently speaking it from your heart. He wanted to embrace you, but knew you'd lose your concentration and he really wanted to hear everything you had to say. So he tried his best to hold back, and just smile as he gazed at you lovingly. The man couldn't find what to do with himself, he was already head over heels, anymore and he might have been considered a madman. The things love made him do, such fiery passion within him that with the smallest of your actions could make him act as if unbridled. After you finished, he glanced at the audience, looking at them as if wanting them to see the type of person he was marrying. He wanted to show you off to the world, and he truly felt like he triumphed that day as he placed the ring on your finger.

𑣿 Rudy got lost in your eyes, hearing you speak Spanish. It made it all so much more meaningful that you had gone as far as to not only learn his language but to recite the words from memory. Halfway through, he just couldn't help but to reach out and cup your cheek, and you had use all your inner strength to not choke up and start crying uncontrollably from how much you loved this man. The onlookers in the crowd were moved as well, most using tissues to dab their eyes. It was a beautiful moment and luckily enough, it was caught on camera too. This moment made Rudy wonder what he had done to deserve you, surely you'd break the man with your gestures of affections, and this was only the beginning. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with you, vowing to make you feel the same.

𑣿 Makarov is not usually a sentimental man, he rarely lets emotion take the greater charge of decision within his mind, especially in front of others. It was only in the utmost secrecy that he had met and loved you, and it was that way he had learned to keep things to a minimal. He didn't require effort from you, because he was always seeking to do more for you. He never imagined something that seemed insignificant to others, but knowing how much effort you had put in, would move him so much. In his heart, he had resigned to feel as little as possible, yet, you had somehow found and tugged at the still tender heartstrings. He felt it blossoming in his chest, the flower that you had so gingerly tended to, cared for with your amour and time. It was hard for him to keep his composure, but so ardently did he feel a flame burn in his chest. Who could have known he'd feel this one day?

𑣿 König faltered, thinking he had misheard your words. You weren't speaking German, were you? He hardly believed it, and couldn't get over it that he didn't really listen to the meaning of your words. If asked, he couldn't remember exactly what you had said, he could only tell of the emotions he'd felt in that moment, some that he couldn't even identify. His heart raced and he simply looked at you in awe, with soft hints of adoration in his eyes. He would hold this memory dearly, just as much as he wanted to hold you. You looked angelic in your wedding attire, like a blessing he cradled in his hands, one he vowed to never forget to care for. Oh and when you smiled at him after concluding, he could have melted from seeing your eyes flicker up at him. He loved how you talked to him, looked at him, touched him, kissed him and he'd spend an eternity wanting to make you feel the same way about him and even then never feel like it was enough.

𑣿 Horangi had certainly not expected it. You never gave an indication of you studying Korean, you had been interested in the language but the grammar had quickly discouraged you from advancing and he assumed you had left it at that. Unbeknownst to him, you had even hired a teacher to help you get through the difficult parts of writing your vows. You wanted to show how much he meant to you, you worked on it day and night and didn't stop until you were satisfied with how it sounded. You knew exactly what to say that would touch his heart and mean the most to him. Horangi couldn't have imagined a more perfect moment than this one. Those words permanently marked in his mind for the rest of his life, forever hearing you speak in his tongue. He wished to be alone with you, none of the others there deserved to be there to hear words that were only meant for him.

He approached you quietly, nudging you awake. Didn’t want to scare his precious dove after all. You jerk upright, eyes wide as you gasp. However, immediately after seeing his face, the shock drops and you almost coo as you burrow into Rudy’s arms. You’re warm and when Rudy nuzzles into your hair, he can smell your shampoo, so you must have showered while he was gone.

You’re grinning, and clinging to him like a child with a teddy. “I already ordered the usual, it’s your turn to pick the movie. Food should be here soon.”

Rudy hums, letting his eyes slide close as he grunts. “Sí, I was thinking Tombstone. You know with, ah- what’s his name again?”

You snort a little against him. “Val Kilmer? The cowboy movie?” Obviously, you know which one he’s talking about, as it’s one of Rudy’s favorites of all time, but he gets hilariously and dramatically outraged when it’s referred to as “the cowboy movie”.

He squawks in mock outrage, pulling his head back to look at you. "The cowboy movie? The cowboy movie?? Amor, I know you don't mean that. Tombstone, a cowboy movie? It is only one of the greatest-"

Before he can go on, you burst into complete laughter. "Calm down, calm down. The food is almost here, and then we can watch your precious movie." You're smiling at him, eyes crinkling with utter love.

Right on time, the doorbell rings. When Rudy goes to open the door, he sees the usual sight. Two bags of takeout, marked with the stamp from your favorite restaurant. He grabs the bag and comes back in to see you curled up on the couch, the thick quilt already stretched over your lap. You're looking away, but you sniff the air and turn to peer at him.

Rudy's heart lifts as you smile. He's never felt as much love in his life as he does for you. You're perfect. His gorgeous husband. His love. His handsome, perfect angel. Rudy plops down next to you, laying out the food on the coffee table. You've got the movie pulled up, paused on the opening seconds.

He doesn't even get a second to breathe after sitting before you're latched onto him, tucked into his side. Happily though, you do take a minute to lean up and press a smattering of kisses across his face, before planting a solid one on his lips. Given how busy the two of you are, it's a rare treat that you actually get to stick to date night. You've both left your phones on the counter, nothing to distract you from each other. Rudy is blissfully happy in the moment as you adjust the blanket so you're both covered.

The movie starts, but Rudy has seen it so many times already that he could practically recite it. It's an excellent movie, well done and entertaining enough to keep his attention when he watches, but not dizzying enough to hurt his head. Yes, Rudy keeps picking it for his turn on movie nights because of the easy familiarity. Sure, he knew it all already, but that was part of the appeal.

His life was filled with chaos. Every patrol brought some new craze, so routine with you was perfect. There was nothing to predict, nothing to be on guard. He didn't have to be watching out for someone else, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He could actually let his guard down. Rudy loves you so much, and loves being able to relax. Knowing what happened put him in control. Made him sure. Made it safe. You hum a little, and cuddle closer.

Your voice is gentle, but you’re pressing, prodding at him. “Cariño, you’re in your head. Come back to me.”

Rudy shakes his head, akin to a dog shaking out water, and rests his head on yours. “Sorry amor, I’m here. I’m here.” And he is. Under your prodding, Rudy is utterly in the moment, enraptured in you. You might think he’s focused on the movie, but Rudy is staring down at where you’re tucked under his arm.

You’re warm and you fit perfectly in his side. As you two are cuddled together, pulls you a little closer and tugs on your hand. The ring he’d gotten you shines in the light, and you laugh a little. The moment is gentle, light and perfect, and Rudy loves it. He loves you, so damn much.