sleepytimejunction | electric tapestry

electric tapestry

It's been a couple of years since he'd left Italy. Primarily, his skills in speaking English help him get along, especially with his various contract jobs. Of all of them, the Speedwagon Foundation pays the nicest, and the money is usually clean -- that's not exactly typical of most places, but it's kind of refreshing for a change of pace.

Not that Abbacchio probably deserves clean money.

Anyway, he's technically off shift, not that he'd care if he was still on the clock, as it were. He's seen this guy around a few times and hasn't really cared to know who he is, just kind of assumes he's probably upper management somewhere. He isn't bad to look at, but Abbacchio doesn't exactly play nice either. He'd said something along the lines of stop staring or fucking do something about it to the man.

That's about what led him to being on his knees in a closet sucking the guy's dick. Not that he has a problem with it; if he hadn't wanted to, he'd have put up a fight but he genuinely didn't expect him to be this big. To Abbacchio's credit, he doesn't choke, though.

He slides off with a lewd, wet pop and strokes him.

"This all you wanted? Fucking up my lipstick? That shit isn't cheap, stronzo."

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[The request makes him huff a laugh, but he goes still under the strangely tender gesture of Jotaro stroking his hair back. That's... unexpected. And kind of nice? His brows knit and he doesn't know what to say.

Until the baby girl hits, and he snorts, flipping Jotaro off.]

Whatever you say, boss.

Better. I kind of like the sound of that, actually.

[He pauses, hand idling in the air like he's not quite sure what to do with it, and then slowly draws it back and folds his hands over his knee.]

Listen.

[Again, a pause, his time more weighty than the one before it.]

You were hurt bad, today. I would understand, if...

If what?

[Abbacchi keeps working on the water, but he peers over the top of the glass at Jotaro.]

This isn't the worst shit I've dealt with. ...Maybe the most fucking bizarre, but not the worst.

[A flash of discomfort flickers across his face, and he stares at the shabby wall, like he's suddenly at a loss for what to do with his hands and shoulders and...self.]

I'm not trying to —

[See, he said himself he'd had worse. He's sobering up. This is presumptuous. He's probably going to disappear. It's stupid, he shouldn't, he should just keep his mouth shut.]

I'm. It's just.

[Ugh. Come on, Kujo, what the fuck is wrong with you.]

...I don't have to go. If you don't want to be alone after...all of this.

Uh.

[Fuck, this is... awkward. And kind of nice? Almost sweet, even. What the fuck, he already knew that Jotaro was kind of a softie at heart, didn't he? Abbacchio has another drink of water, his head slowly clearing up, but the exhaustion not quite escaping him yet.]

...Should've just gone to your place. My apartment is shitty, you know.

But do what you want. I won't say no.

So what? Maybe my rich ass needs a kick every once in a while.

[Or maybe he just. It's different, if he stays here instead of taking someone else back to his apartment. Here, he's just staying out of responsibility. Going back to where he lives...

...That might come off like something else, wouldn't it?]

Anyway. Least you won't have to catch a bus in the morning.

Huh. Let me know for next time, happy to oblige.

[Slowly, he shoves himself up, running his fingers through his hair before he's managing to stand without feeling like the room is spinning.]

Take the bed if you want. You're so fucking tall that you wouldn't fit on the couch.

You should have it. I can sleep on the floor, or even the car if I have to.

[He runs a hand through his hair, wanting to move to steady Abbacchio when he gets up, but holding himself back and just watching, carefully, to see if he'll be all right or if he needs an intervention.]

I never really lost that knack. Sleeping anywhere. It's been years, but I guess some things you just don't forget.

Whatever, suit yourself. You're the boss.

[There's just a small stumble, which he catches himself against the sofa before he's stepping slowly. The ache in his lower back is returning, but that was kind of inevitable.]

Traveled a lot, huh.

Well, Mr. Traveler, I'm gonna shower. You can come or not.

[...Oh. Well. Up go his eyebrows, and piqued goes his curiosity.]

Really. You're interested?

[He means "you're not still drunk", but this is a more graceful way of putting it.]

If I wasn't, I'd tell you to fuck off, even if I work for you.

[But Jotaro's handsome, seems strong in body and heart, and is easy to respect, so. There's that. They're very attractive qualities to him, someone stronger in spirit and morality than Abbacchio himself.]

Besides, you can make sure I don't slip and hit my head or something.

Guess you will have less far to fall if you're already on your knees.

[But that's his cue to get to his feet, shedding his hat and coat and leaving them draped over one of the sofa arms. They'll be fine there, probably. Besides, who's going to come visit and see them, or even care? And it's not like they'd be easily mistaken for anything Abbacchio owns, either, given their size difference.

So, all right, then.]

Yeah? Gonna put me in my place, boss?

[Much less neatly, as soon as Abbacchio gets to the bathroom he's dumping his clothing to the floor without much consideration for neatness. It's Future!Abbacchio's problem anyway. Instead, he's turning on the shower, waiting just outside of it for it to warm up.]

[What a brat. He follows along, waiting in the doorway of the bathroom to leave Abbacchio room to strip down and get his shower going, but also just leaning idly to ostensibly enjoy the view.]

I'll treat you however you want me to. Rough, sweet. After all, I know your name now.

[He looks him over head to toe once again, then cocks his head and tests the figurative waters while Abbacchio is waiting to test the real ones.]

Come over here and get my pants open.

[For a moment, he isn't sure if he should say that he doesn't even know how to deal with the sweetness. When Jotaro is kind, it feels too much, and he's used to cruelty and rough treatment. So he doesn't say anything about it.]

What's the matter? Forget how to do it yourself?

[But he does approach, because he does prefer to be told what to do. Abbacchio reaches out, fingers snagging onto the front of Jotaro's pants, working them open.]

Careful. You'll get more forgetful with age.

I'll have to keep you around to jog my memory. You and that Stand of yours.

[While Abbacchio works, Jotaro reaches up to cup his cheek in one hand, pressing his thumb against his lips to try to get him to part them and suck.]

You didn't answer my question.

[He didn't...technically ask one, not that it really occurs to him just then.]

Fair enough. I can always have it replay for you, remind you proper.

[Ah. Abbacchio slowly opens his mouth, sliding his tongue onto Jotaro's thumb, nipping it.]

You didn't ask, boss.

[And he gives the tip of the thumb a sharp suck.]

Mm.

[Look at that fucking mouth. Look at what a production he makes of it, taking his time, offering up a pretty fantasy while he stands there, shamelessly naked in the rapidly-steaming bathroom.]

What do you want me to do to you, Leone Abbacchio?

[He closes his eyes, focusing on the tempting suction a moment.]

What do you dream of a guy like me doing to you?

[For a moment, Abbacchio just thinks to himself, suckling at Jotaro's thumb before he pops off of it.]

I wanna witness your strength again. I lost my shit when you held me up like that before. I don't-- really know how to deal with you being gentle. I'm not used to that. I don't hate it, but it's-- I don't know what you want from me when you do that.

Is that why it was the first thing you thought to play back with your Stand? It made that much of an impression, huh.

[He nods slightly, resting his now-damp thumb against the pad of Abbacchio's lower lip while he regards him.]

And you like things simple and clear-cut. Do you like feeling...used?

I'm not used to someone being as strong as me, or even stronger. So-- yeah. Made an impression all right.

[He huffs out a breath of air, letting his tongue drag over Jotaro's thumb again.]

It's just what I'm used to. [The admission makes him hesitate, then he quickly follows up with:] I mean it's fine. If it's from someone I want to obey from. You know? From you, it's-- fine.

"Fine" isn't what I asked.

[His fingers shift, his hand moving from cupping his face to holding his chin, exerting enough pressure to keep him from moving his head around.]

Listen. If you wanted me to go slow, be soft...I would do that. And if you wanted me to shove you up against the shower wall and fuck you dry, I would do that. If you want me to make you beg, if you want me to put you over my knee and spank you, if you want me to put you on your knees and choke you on my dick...

I don't want to have to guess. That's what I'm getting at. I'll edge you seven times and make you cry if it's what you need. I just want you to say so.

[Abbacchio almost sneers at first at being held so firmly, narrowing his eyes and glaring at Jotaro.]

Don't be careful with me. I'm not fucking glass. [He grabs onto Jotaro's wrist, the hand that's holding his chin. The instinct to fight back is there.] I want you to order me around. Make me respect you. Boss.

In other words, you want to act like a punk kid and have somebody put you in your place.

[With his wrist still seized, he can't move his hand away, but he can turn his hand just enough to scratch lightly against the underside of Abbacchio's chin, almost mocking in its placating feel. Like he's a nasty alley cat getting a chin rub, having his bristling fur stroked.]

I'm going to take care of my clothes. The water should be warm by now. Go get in. Warm up. And get yourself hard without touching your cock. We'll see what you've earned by the time I join you.

[There's a brief snarl, and he bites at the edge of Jotaro's thumb hard for a moment. Like he's just barely tolerating the scratching, nice as it is.

Then he pulls away, letting go of Jotaro and pushing his way into the shower. First, he scrubs at his face, working off the rest of the makeup he has on. Most of it had been rubbed off anyway after everything that happened, and the facial wash he has is meant for it.

Which leaves him to work out getting turned on.

Licking his lips which are now cleaned of black, he reaches back and rubs at his hole. It's still sore, but fuck it, he has to clean it out anyway and he might as well get to it to get started on this. He hisses, pressing a finger in, squeezing his eyes shut as he starts to work his finger in and out. His other hand goes to his chest, touching his own nipple, twisting it roughly.

It makes him groan, just starting to get worked up. It's not a bad start.]

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