I put this up because fanfic of these two as a ship does not exist

I also put this up because I apparently want my ass flamed. WHOOPS.

This is a snippet of a much bigger fanfiction and is also the only lemony part of said bigger fanfiction. I lost the fanfic in a hard drive crash, but was able to recover this part because I sent it in a e-mail to a friend. This used to be in a long fanfic that justified all this crazy incestuous sex, but now it's just a short PWP-ish piece of WHAT THE HELL. Sorry. Oh, well, enjoy? I'm sure someone out there is (also) a sick bastard who'd enjoy this.

"You should rest."

Giovanni raised an eyebrow, trying not to smirk at what Silver played off as concern.

"In a minute," he replied, keeping the humor out of his voice as he turned away from the pouting, very nude boy.

Silver wouldn't give up so easily, knowing it was just like him to play along.

Shuffling the papers in front of him, he managed not to smirk as he continued, voice straining from trying not to laugh in a rare moment of weakness. "...On the other hand, if you'd simply tell me you wanted me to get into bed with you, you'd have your way much sooner."

He didn't need to look; he could visualize the way Silver would scrunch up his face and pout. But Silver let himself get frustrated with losing, because he knew Giovanni loved seeing him frustrated. And when it was a head game they both won, Silver was more than happy to play the loser for a while.

Rather than reply with something snooty, as he often did, Silver spun the man around in his chair, not trying to hide his mischief as he crawled into his lap and forced Giovanni to experience has naked body. Small hands gripped his, planting them forcefully on the smooth skin of his hips.

Giovanni wanted to grin – Silver was irresistible whenever he took this sort of initiative. So mischievous...

He knew he was willing himself into submission, but he didn't mind, not when it let him freely run his hands over his son's firm flesh as though Silver commanded it himself, and not because he craved the touch of his (his son's) skin. Not that he was new to taboo and sin – but the peace of mind in knowing that what this was (incest) wasn't his doing (he was just a child, after all).

Gradually, he found himself hovering over the boy, sprawled out beneath him. Naked, lusty, needy. A flush crept down Silver's chest as he squirmed, breathing heavy (I want to smell you), fingers curling into sheets and lips pulled back (kiss me please), knees together in subtle shyness (you're still my father). Giovanni delighted in the sounds – quiet gasps and moans – that gave him the authoritative rush he'd never known. Silver could only squirm in delight, arching his body to direct his movements to the place between his thighs where it grew hot for him. This was Giovanni's ultimate rush of power, manipulating Silver's young body into white-hot pleasure he could never grant anyone else, having Silver so willingly ask him to do this (he would never hurt his son; Silver wanted this, and it was consensual), hearing Silver beg and watching Silver's face as every touch felt like too much (but never enough).

"Father-!"

As they had before, they became one.

Giovanni didn't want to think that, twelve years ago, he and his son had been as one.

This was incest.

But he didn't need to remind himself.