Excellent. Another fucking meal.
And not the sort of meal where you get to have it on your own, in your own chair and at your own leisure. No, for the Largo family it was always the formal meal. The meal with the group of stuffy old businessmen who were about as stern and intimidating as Rotti himself. The meal where the heirs of the aforementioned had to 'reflect well' on their father, or on their heads be it. A meal where you'd earn a snooty tut of disdain for exhibiting anything other than perfect table manners.
Basically, it was the type of meal Luigi absolutely couldn't stand—and that in itself was saying something. One would think the eldest of the Largo siblings would relish any opportunity to show all the fat cats just how professional and worthy he was of his position, and in any other scenario that would surely be the case. But there was something about taking a meal—a ritual that should be sociable, relaxing, a setting for good banter—and turning it into a heartless sub-plot for the next big plan to make big bucks that was, in Luigi's eyes, simply wrong. Perhaps it was the Italian in him that just wanted to be able to shovel pasta into his face and be really damn noisy about it without being frowned upon… but more likely than not his own mind was truly to blame, forever stirred up as it was by that constant, deeply-ingrained need to impress everyone that had him either finding new reasons to hate everything… or generally being tightly-wound as a spring at all times.
So he stood, in his pyjamas, looking-but-not-really-looking in the mirror with sunken eyes like death, completely deprived of any choice—or even the will to move, for that matter. The first thing that actually succeeded in stirring Luigi from that newly-woken stupor was anything but welcome, though it at least managed to elicit from him a shudder and a nasty scowl. Progress.
"Wee-gee~" came that falsetto drawl, soon followed by the scent of sickeningly sweet cologne and that sour taste the eldest sibling got whenever that little pet name was used out loud. Of course, these habitual signs of distaste only served to delight Pavi as he invited himself to lean on the doorframe. "Shame on you, fratello! Still in'a your jim-jams, mm?"
Goddamn, he made Luigi sick. This exchange—if it could even be called that—was motivation enough to get the fuck in the shower, and thus as far away from his brother as possible. With little more than a grunt in response he stormed out, slamming the door of his en suite behind him.
After the usual routine, Luigi felt much more like his usual self. Body clean, with damp hair neatly side-parted; teeth flossed, brushed and rinsed with mouthwash to perfection; nails trimmed, filed and meticulously scrubbed… Everything just felt better this way. Less daunting. With perfection and order and top fucking notch personal hygiene the eldest Largo was finally ready to deal with the shitty world.
His uplifted mood was doomed to fizzle before he even stepped back into the bedroom, however. Apparently Pavi hadn't taken the hint from before, but had taken it upon himself to mill about and preen in front of Luigi's mirror. 'Well that was a brief fucking candle,' he thought with a snarl, stomping over to the impudent little fucker and forcing him roughly around by the shoulder.
"Get the fuck out, dickwad!"
One eyebrow on the stolen face twitched while bright eyes languidly regarded every inch of previously unexposed flesh, from scarred chest to the navy blue towel tucked around his hips. Luigi shuddered again, shoulders jolting once as if hoping he could simply wriggle away the sudden, creeping sensation he felt under that gaze. As a warning sign that he had absolutely no qualms about punching Pavi's lights out right there and right then, he clenched his fists visibly by his sides.
"Temper," was the younger's response, his tone icier than it had been earlier. "I don't want to go to this fucking meeting any more than'a you, you know…" Pavi raised a perfectly poised hand to sweep back some of the damp strands sticking to Luigi's forehead, earning a cringe in response. Giving a coy hum of laughter, he slowly began to back his older brother toward the unmade bed, fingertips gently pressing to his sternum.
"But you're even more tightly strung than usual… So why don't you at least let'a me give you something to smile about, hmm? My darling brother~?" Pearly teeth showed with the sultry smirk he flashed, drawing Luigi's attention to those dead lips painted in a deep, wine red. They parted just a little wider, deliberately and undeniably inviting in the way they moved a little stiffly over the very real, horribly scarred ones the mask covered. And god, they always felt so good around his cock. Both pairs.
It was always at this stage of the game that Luigi fell quiet. Repulsed as he obviously was by his shameless faggot of a brother, there was something in him that simply couldn't resist when they got that kind of physical around one another. Still, his pride wouldn't allow any sign of enthusiasm for what the little slut so readily offered. Only acceptance. He took Pavi's jaw in a firm grasp between fingers and thumb, watching how easily that jaw opened up for him with hateful perversion.
"On your knees then, cunt." Luigi snarled in a tone that made his brother instantly obey, those angular, surprisingly masculine and yet butter-soft hands sliding down his marred chest until they fumbled with the towel (which was already raised in the telltale area).
The elder slipped both sets of fingers into his brother's sable locks, shivering once as he was exposed and tugging his head forward in retaliation. Pavi complied, showing no resistance as he opened his mouth wide to fully envelop Luigi's cock, immediately earning a hiss from between gritted teeth. Grinning despite his mouth being filled, he slowly drew back, sucking hard while dragging his tongue along the underside and licking right up to the head before plunging back down with a purposefully slutty little mewl. Luigi's hands clenched and unclenched, though they hardly directed the middle Largo's movements as initially intended. Indeed, Pavi knew exactly what he was doing and worked his lips and tongue expertly, in a way he just knew would drive his brother to the edge; all the while the filthy sounds of sucking and gasping and appreciative humming filled the room.
It wasn't long before Luigi was muttering curses under his breath as he cast his gaze down, regarding the obscene display of his little brother practically devouring his cock with eyes half-lidded and saliva dribbling down that masked chin, relishing in the delicious wrongness of it all.
"Pavs-" he began in a husky whisper, but was interrupted by a knock at the door—which thankfully his brother had at least thought to close—that practically had him leaping out of his skin.
"Signore?" Shit. Shitshitshit. "It is nearly time for you and your siblings to meet your fath-"
"R-right!" Luigi's voice cracked a little. "Fucking right! Almost ready, just gimme a goddamn minute. Geez!"
After some tense moments of listening to the servant's footsteps grow distant, Pavi giggled low in his throat.
"The fuck you laughin' at? Get on with it!"
"Ah, so cute when you're all'a flustered~" He dabbed his chin delicately with a silk handkerchief, which he then folded and slipped back into his waistcoat pocket. "Such a pity we must'a be going now, hmm?"
Luigi just blinked furiously.
"There's no fuckin' way you're leavin' me hanging, you goddamn-" He attempted to grip Pavi's hair again but was instead taken by surprise as his brother roughly shoved him back onto the bed.
"Ah-ah-ah~" Pavi scolded in a saccharine sing-song voice that made Luigi's skin crawl. He'd gotten to his feet impressively fast and now towered over his big brother, shaking his head with a shit-eating grin plastered across his stolen face. "If'a you're so desperate for more, there's only one way you'll'a be getting it from me."
Oh, now Luigi did not like the sound of that. If there was one thing he'd learned from growing up with multiple siblings, don't fucking trust the cunts was undoubtedly it. However, he was horny beyond reason by that point… and it seemed as though the day was just destined to shit all over him whichever way he played it.
And there was something… just something in the completely fucking evil look his brother wore that gave the eldest Largo a feeling that was oh, so rare for him. That, of course, being the 'fuck it, it might be fun' feeling.
As if he already knew the elder's mind, Pavi leaned over, planting a hand on the mattress by Luigi's shoulder and licking his lips as his stare was met with something akin to repulsion, but much closer to excitement.
"Bene… but we must'a be quick, si~?"
This had been such. a bad. idea.
Luigi shuffled around in his seat uncomfortably, unable to concentrate on any of the stale business talk, nor even his own spaghetti and meatballs.
Balls.
His balls were killing him, he was so fucking desperate. 'God, why the fuck did I let him? Why?!'
Pavi studied the elder from opposite the narrow table, eating carbonara and smoothly chatting to some daughter of a CEO as if he wasn't currently teasing up the insides of Luigi's legs with measured strokes of one booted foot. All the while he slowly licked the creamy sauce off of painted lips with small swipes of his pink tongue in a way that would seem completely normal to other onlookers but oh, Luigi knew…
…However, instead of being angry, all he could think about was how he wanted to fuck that pretty mouth to completion whether it was stuffed with pasta or not. And about how grateful he was that they were seated a little further down the table from all the bigwigs—especially their father. Jesus, if he ever found out about this little game… In actuality though, the very notion made this all the more—dare he say—exciting.
Luigi had only just managed to stop chewing the inside of his lip and actually attempt eating some food when a timely new wave of arousal made him—quite literally—choke on his spaghetti. Loudly.
With all conversation effectively drowned out, Rotti fixed his eldest son with a glare that could easily cut through steel while the other guests tutted and shook their heads and eye-rolled.
"Sort yourself out, boy. At once."
"E- excu-" Luigi attempted to stutter out as he shakily got to his feet, unsure now of whether it was the coughing fit or the maddening tingles of pleasure that had him weak at the knees. He caught a glimpse of Pavi smiling up at him with a horrid gleam in his eyes, grimaced, and then finally took his leave from the gathering.
Fortunately the bathroom was empty when Luigi staggered in, for as soon as he reached the row of marble basins and planted a clumsy hand there for support, the other was desperately fumbling with his belt and buttons. He just had to get this fucking thing off.
"Having trouble keeping it down, are we fratello?"
Luigi glanced up at the mirror in front of him to find his brother in the reflection, leaning back against the closed door and giving an amused little snicker at his own play on words. Although he'd kept up the ruse of choking as an excuse to leave, the elder sibling's breathing was ragged as he stared furiously at the other in the mirror—albeit for a slightly different reason.
"F-fuck you," he muttered hoarsely, concentrating once more on getting his pants open. "I never shoulda agreed to this shit. No more, y'hea-" but Pavi was behind him before he could finish, seizing both hands and pinning them to the counter. His thumb idly fiddled with the round cameo adorning his forefinger—a trinket Luigi had assumed to be just another mark of his brother's unnecessary flamboyance until the vibrations that had been quietly stimulating him since leaving home changed—subtly and yet just enough to force from him a shaking gasp.
"Sh-shit!"
"Ahh~ poor Luigi~" Pavi craned his neck up, enabling him to rest his chin on the taller sibling's shoulder and hiss by his ear. "Couldn't handle the Pavi's little toy after all, hmm?"
Thoroughly ashamed, remarkably pissed off but still clamouring for both attention and relief, Luigi didn't respond with anything more than a frustrated grunt, allowing his brother's teasing fingers to wander up his arms and shoulders then down his back. His knuckles were white as he balled his fists tighter and a shudder coursed through him, then Pavi nimbly ducked beneath his arm, re-surfacing between him and the counter and snaking both arms around his shoulders.
"Mmm, but I actually take'a pity on you, my dear br-"
"-Shut your goddamn face," the elder snarled, straightening up and pressing his body forward, eliciting a purr from his brother as he aggressively thrust his hips and raked quivering fingertips hungrily down his sides. "I oughta destroy that wise ass a' yours right here , right now."
Pavi's grin was worryingly triumphant despite the threats as, yet again, he turned up the cleverly hidden dial on the ring, forcing Luigi to impulsively hunch forward and whimper. Yes, Luigi Largo had just whimpered—and understandably so, the younger would admit. Inwardly. Cooing sweetly, he fondled his big brother's hair, sweeping it back from his heated brow and kissing his cheeks and jaw while slowly walking them backwards.
"Poor thing~ Let's'a get you somewhere more… secluded, si?"
Luigi only grunted in response and followed Pavi's movements, though if he'd been more lucid he'd have punched him in the face as soon as he realised he was slowly being backed towards the fucking cleaner's closet. As it was, however, he was desperate enough to not only comply, but to actually reach behind and clumsily pull the door open as they neared.
"So well behaved, big brother," said Pavi in that honey-dripping tone as they stumbled inside, shutting the door behind them with a click. The cramped, cluttered space was a stark contrast to the opulent bathroom. Even the light emitting from the single bulb in there was dingier. Filthier.
"Just… shut the fuck up and get this shit offa me!" Luigi shuffled uncomfortably, fumbling with his pants for a moment before shoving them down, paying no mind to how he wriggled against the other in such close proximity. What he got in response was an unsettlingly low chuckle and a hand on his dick that had no intention of removing the small, vibrating toy strapped there.
Pavi slowly circled his thumb over the leaking head, smearing precum and smiling as a needy groan was stifled. Soon after he set to stripping down his brother's chest, deftly popping his shirt buttons open and sliding away fabric before greedily roaming over the expanse of exposed, scarred flesh. Luigi swore under his breath, teeth worrying away at his lower lip.
"Fuck, Pavi, you… you cunt…"
"Mmm, you'll'a be thanking me later," the younger drawled sultrily, lacing another trail of kisses down to Luigi's collarbone, fingertips following the dark line of his largest scar. "That, I can promise."
Cutting Luigi off before he could even begin to protest, Pavi forced him roughly around, pinning his arms up against the cold concrete with surprising strength behind his smaller frame. The elder cursed loudly, partly from stumbling, but mostly because he was being manhandled by fucking Pavi. And to make matters worse, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it—not if he wanted to avoid enduring his frustration until it was time to go home, anyway.
Besides, there was a definite thrill in this actually happening to him, as much as he hated to admit it. Fucking in bathrooms, playing kinky little games in public… Luigi Largo didn't do shit like this. He just didn't. Later on, without the influence of whiskey or boredom or his dick, he'd surely decide that that was how things would stay…
…But at that particular point, with his necessity for gratification hitting some sort of personal record, Luigi could hardly claim the situation to be anything less than exhilarating. That is, until the abrupt intrusion of a slicked pair of fingers jerked him from his confused reverie with a sharp gasp and a spluttered "fuck!" as he reflexively pressed his forehead into his arms where they were braced against the wall. When exactly had lube happened, anyway? Of course, the explanation didn't go much further beyond the fact this was Pavi, but still… it was enough to shock him. Even if he did find himself making little to no attempt to reassert his dominance as he usually would.
Luigi's breathing became increasingly ragged yet remained controlled as he was fingered none-too-gently, having resolved that if this was how it was going to happen, he wasn't about to give his brother the satisfaction of, god forbid, lowering himself to his level and begging for a fuck. Even so, it wasn't long before it proved simply too difficult not to wriggle into the body pressed so closely up against him or hiss in response to every bite and scratch, no matter how much he chastised himself.
Meanwhile, Pavi's swelling sense of victory was practically tangible.
"Si, fratello~ you want to be fucked, don't you?" His voice was husky, breath hot against Luigi's throat and dripping with perverse glee.
"As long as I come, I… I don't give a fuck," the older Largo grunted in return, though his arching back and clenched fists said otherwise.
Pavi tutted irritably, and for some short moments Luigi was free of any touch, though the telltale fumbling and unzipping gave sufficient enough warning of what was to come. Shudders racked his waiting body. It was legitimately impossible to say whether it was a result of disgust, anticipation, dread… or all three.
Embarrassment, at least, was a certainty—so much so that the usually loud-mouthed Luigi was completely wordless in that tense moment. The fact he'd made no effort to take advantage of this temporary freedom and regain control… Words weren't necessary for the two of them to know that, deep down, he did want Pavi to fuck him senseless. Craved it. And that in itself made the more effeminate sibling resolve to have his brother squirming before all was said and done.
Luigi jumped when a pair of hands finally settled on his hips and squeezed firmly; and then again, with an added growl of discomfort, when he was entered by something much thicker than just a pair of fingers.
"Fuck!" he swore through gritted teeth, determined not to react strongly to the pain of no matter what.
"So tight, brother," came Pavi's lust-choked response before he tugged the elder back by the ascot, changing the angle of penetration subtly. Already Luigi's fists were clenched so tightly he could feel his perfectly clipped nails digging crescents into his palms, yet he gave no response other than a few quivering breaths as Pavi pushed deeper inside of him, leaning forward to drag dead lips up his spine. "H-haha~ I was going to assume it's'a because you're sooooo tightly-wound. But the Pavi is so silly, he somehow forgot his'a Luigi isn't an easy little faggot like him~"
"F-fuck y-"
Luigi's head snapped back with a pained yelp as he was filled completely in one unexpected, merciless thrust. Loathe as he was to ever acknowledge it, this wasn't the first time he'd been on the 'receiving end', even with his brother, though it was such a rare occurrence that it really fucking hurt. Needless to say, he was actually glad to have the vibrator delivering that constant thrum of pleasure, since complaining over this kind of pain was one scrap of dignity he'd never, ever be willing to shed. Even so, Luigi allowed himself the distraction of biting down on his finger since it was out of Pavi's sight—at least for several painful thrusts until slowly… gradually it melted into… into… God, it felt so fucking good.
To begin with it was Pavi who was the most vocal, constantly sighing and muttering "si" or its English counterpart and relishing how good his brother felt on his cock and in his grasp and beneath his mouth. But as he gained rhythm, and the temperature in the dim, tiny space rose enough for both to build up a sweat, and the sound of skin on skin surrounded them, Luigi's resolve began to crumble. Despite his own pride, the arousal that had culminated since waking that day proved simply too much, and soon enough he was moaning lowly each time that seldom-touched, insanely sensitive spot inside him was stimulated.
"Ah, you like'a that, hmm~?" The sadistic excitement in that whisper was partially restrained, but upon receiving no particular praise or pleas from his brother Pavi snarled—an unusually deep, feral sound—and shoved Luigi forward so that his chest was pressed flush against the wall.
"Nngh~" was Luigi's only response as the new angle and more aggressive fucking had him tipping his head back to rest on the younger's shoulder, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging shakily open with the sheer effort it took not to completely unravel. He was so caught up in everything he thought his legs would give at any moment, and he wouldn't have even noticed that there'd been no vibrations for some time if not for Pavi's hand wrapping around his neglected cock.
No words were needed between them now. Luigi bucked, either into Pavi's skilled hand or back onto his cock, his jaw clenched tightly while the younger rapturously took in every quiet whine or gasp that managed to break his brother's tight defences—and although he'd wanted to have Luigi begging for his release, Pavi found himself all too charmed and swayed by the blatant desperation that saturated every futile attempt at maintaining control. Time seemed to stretch on for an age, though very little had actually passed before Luigi was close to climax from the combined attentions, and his sporadic clenching of muscles now had Pavi moaning into his flesh with him—through both physical pleasure and the immense thrill of seeing the eldest sibling in such a rare, beautifully depraved state.
Soon enough Luigi was cursing as he reached orgasm, one quivering hand shooting behind to fist jet black locks as his breaths came out laboured and edged with barely-suppressed moans. Despite having appeared far more collected than his brother for most of the day, Pavi followed not long after, his soiled hand raking desperately down that marred, heaving torso as he whimpered with his own release, filling Luigi deep inside.
They both seemed to fold in on themselves then, sweating and reeking of sex while slumped against the clammy wall. Only for a few moments, though; they'd already taken suspiciously long, and Luigi was the first to stir, wriggling his smirking brother off of him with a disgruntled thrash of elbows.
"Don't… say a fucking… thing!"
The two brothers returned to the restaurant; one looking as well-groomed as ever, the other fatigued and somewhat mortified. Upon spotting them, Rotti excused himself from his seat to confront them. He did not look pleased.
"What took you so long? You're showing me up. Again." There was a dangerous sort of anger in his glare as it flicked between them… could it be that he knew? "And what in god's name happened to him?"
"He was a little bit sick, Papa," the younger son said with a regretful little shake of his head, reaching up to squeeze his brother's shoulder. The latter grimaced, casting his eyes at the ground. "Don't worry, I looked after him."
Apparently Rotti was convinced enough, for he smiled even as he gave an exasperated sigh.
"And just when I thought you two despised each other entirely. Well… I suppose you should get him home, then." He made a shooing gesture at his sons. "I'll call the chauffeur back later."
"Si, Papa~"
After bidding the other guests goodbye, the Largo brothers made for the exit. Pavi tittered slyly as Luigi limped over the threshold- a grave mistake on his part, as he soon realised when a furious hand encircled his throat and hauled him off towards the waiting limo. The quivering rage in Luigi's voice made the younger brother gulp with terror.
"You're dead.fucking.MEAT."
