A/N: Word of caution: Gets steamy from here.

He was also very handsy.

Touchy-feely.

No matter what they were doing.

Kissing? There was a guarantee that Toni's hands would be on his ass, his lower back, up into his hair and on his neck, on his cheeks and down to his front, all in quick succession. Meanwhile, Lovi would become so distracted by the sensations, overwhelmed, that he would just remain stationary.

And the sex. Much the same.

If he could just... Get rid of those hands, he'd be able to concentrate on making Antonio feel good, focusing more on the sensation of where their skin was coming into contact, and maybe even, gee, hear Toni and how he breathed and groaned...

Tied up underneath him, struggling to listen to Lovino and let him have his way...

Oh no. He was hard again. It happened so much faster than the last time, and there was no hiding it, and he was sitting there at the dinner table, watching Antonio cut into his steak and stare off into space. Could he really not feel him staring?

The heat settled in the pit of his stomach and he felt a hot flash come and go.

No, no, no...

The way a rope... no, a belt, would press into his supple skin, soft and warm...

"Nnn..." He blushed and crossed his legs under the table, bumping it and sending the silverware and dishes rattling.

"Hmm?"

Lovino threw him a glare. "Can't you take a compliment?! I was saying the food was good." He gave Antonio a 'come at me' look. "Christ... Bastardo."

Antonio tilted his head to the side, a slow grin pulling up the left corner of his mouth. The smile slowly melted from his face, however, as he remembered something that had been bothering him.

"A few nights ago," Toni began after a sigh. "Why didn't you... wake me?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Ugh, why would I?"

"Why were you jacking off while you watched me sleep, when I was laying right there? All you would have had to do was wake me up. I've seen you do it other times, too, mi amore."

Lovino was such a dashing shade of red it would have put Satan out of style. He thought that Antonio had been asleep and just... breathing heavier.

"Of course, I don't mind watching you," Antonio backpedalled.

"W-Well..."

Antonio kept his gaze level.

"Uh..."

Normally, the Spaniard would be attempting to fill in the blanks for the other, try to take off the pressure a little, but not this time. No, he wanted to hear. Questions raced through his head: Are you tired of me? Am I... not good enough anymore? Still, he resisted.

Lovino breathed out slowly through his nose and moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. He started to reach for his fork to just go back to eating, but Antonio stopped him with a hand over his.

"Lovi."

He cast his amber eyes away from the other, swallowing roughly.

"I just... Don't want to talk about it."

"No, no, we need to talk about it. We never talk about it."

His heart thudded slowly in his chest, once... twice. He wrinkled his nose and took a sip of wine, choking it down with a cough. He didn't want to discuss it, he felt like he wasn't ready or prepared.

"Lovi. Come on. You're worrying for no reason," he said with a nervous chuckle. "You should know by now you can tell me anything."

Lovino finally met the other's gaze and said, "You touch me."

"Okay...? That's... not anything new?"

"No, I mean"— he sighed exasperatedly— "Like, you touch me too much, si?" He was talking faster, possible babbling at this point. "Your hands! Uffa! Everywhere, all over me, all the time, and it's when you sleep and when we're fucking around, just always... On me! And I can't focus on what might be making me feel good because you move too fast and your hands are everywhere, and I can't even try to make you feel good because I feel trapped or claustrophobic even, and it pisses me the fuck off, because what if I wanted to make you feel good? You don't even let me try! And I really don't think that you'll be able to control yourself, even if I asked you to."

All Lovino could hear was the blood rushing through his ears. He'd stopped looking at Antonio a long time ago, but as soon as he finished, all in one breath, it seemed, he felt guilty. Antonio was a great lover. He knew it, Lovino knew it, everyone knew it. The Italian could only imagine the blow to his ego.

Sad, he was expecting.

But... furious? Lovino looked at the reddened face, red through ears, neck and chest, and swallowed nervously.

He could see the words boling behind the other's lips.

"Non te la prendere, mi raccomando, Tonio, it's just you asked, and so I—"

He was stopped with a hand held up. "You weren't going to tell me because you don't think I can keep my hands to myself?"

Lovino pursed his lips and thought for a minute, recalling when he would tell Antonio not to eat the slice of red velvet cake, but then the damn Spaniard would, or the time when he said Antonio couldn't go a day without speaking and then ended up speaking all the more.

All that in mind, he shook his head.

Antonio grunted frustratedly. "Well, I can."

"No, Toni," Lovino said, eyes taking on a determined sparkle. "I really don't think you can."

The emerald-eyed man licked his lips and scoffed. "Well, I can," he insisted.

"No." Lovino leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs.

The man slammed a fist on the tabletop, rattling their dinner dishes. "Si! If you don't believe me..." His eyes darkened as he tilted his head to the side. "...Then let's try. State your rules, then." He said, crossing his arms.

Oh?

...Oh.

Lovino cracked his knuckles (scientifically, a sign of sexual frustration) and crossed his legs. "First and foremost, no hands. You can hold onto the bed post, but you can't let go."

"And, not that I will, but just on the off chance that I let go...?"

"Don't know. Something. Anyway, no... no... Kissing me."

"La puta madre..."

Lovino laughed, then slowly fell silent. He stood and grabbed Antonio by the wrist, all but dragging him up the stairs. He pushed Antonio towards the bed, causing the other to stumble, and closed the door behind them. He paused with a hand on the door, head hanging as he thought.

He could do this. He just needed to be... more assertive.

"Take off you clothes. B-But leave your underwear."

He turned around, cheeks prickling with the signs of a blush.

Still mostly angry, Antonio rolled his eyes and reached for his belt buckle, narrowed eyes trained simperingly on Lovino. He pulled the leather strap through the metal clasp slowly and coaxed it from each belt loop, letting it drop to the carpet. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped them, tilting his head as he listened to each tooth of the zipper catch growl as it was released, and slowly pushed them down his thighs and calves. He stepped out of them one foot at a time and then crossed his arms over his torso to grab the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. He stood there in his mostly naked glory, and apparently very erect.

"On the bed."

"Yeah, yeah."

Lovino strode over rather fiercely and Antonio scrambled to lay down on the king size bed.

"Hands."

Antonio swallowed and reached up to hold one of the posts, stacking his hands on top of each other.

He drummed his fingers and slowly wrapped them back around the wood, hunkering down. "So? Is this all you've got?"

"Stai zitto."

Lovino climbed over him, hovering his face over the other's and leaned down, dragging his tongue over the Spaniard's jaw.

The brunet flushed, turning his head away, but Lovino wasn't discouraged— Antonio only exposed his neck more, for the Italian to nip and suck and kiss down.

"Mmm..." Antonio breathed. Lovino didn't miss it when the other adjusted his grip.

He brushed his lips over the man's clavicle, then set two fingers on a dusky nipple to circle, pull, twist (just how Antonio liked it).

Hips raised to move against Lovino's body. A sharp hiss...

"Something wrong?" Lovi asked pointedly.

"N-No," the man said obstinately, still trying to roll his hips against the amber-haired man's body for some semblance of friction.

He quirked a brow momentarily before catching the other side of Antonio's chest between his teeth, pulling gently until it had hardened. Antonio arched into his mouth, biting his lip. He was about to reach for Lovino's hair, to press him closer, but he caught himself.

He could do this.

Lovino pressed kisses down the center of his chest until he reached the other's navel, and slowly, he dipped his tongue in.

"Mierda, Lovino, stop... Can't we just... Can't we...?" His chest rose and fell quickly, and he couldn't quite stifle a whimper. "Nnnn..."

"Shhh," Lovino chuckled, blindly reaching up to the brunet's face to shush him and instead touching his cheek. He dragged his nose lightly over where skin and waistband met, licking the love handles before gently pulling the elastic down. He would have laughed at how Antonio's cock sprung upwards if it didn't make his own erection jump in his pants. He groaned softly before narrowing his eyes. He watched a bead of pre-cum gather at the tip and then meander its way down the shaft— but he couldn't let it go to waste. He stuck out the tip of his tongue, catching it, and then retraced its path up to the small slit in the top.

"Lovi!"

The Italian smirked triumphantly. He let his mouth trail lower, to ghost over Antonio's balls as he set his hands on the male's inner thighs to pry his legs apart. After taking a moment to breathe and feel how the Spaniard shook under his touch, he set his lips onto a cheek, pushing Antonio's legs into a bent position to better access the thick flesh of the ass he loved to smack, spank, pinch, rub, fuck...

"Lovi, please... Por favor. P-Per favore..."

"What do you want?" Lovino asked, not angrily, but curiously.

Toni was silent, biting into his lip.

Irritated now, Lovi lightly smacked the other's thigh. "Antonio, rispondetemi."

He listened to the other breathe before hearing a hiss. "I want your cock."

"Where?"

Oh, he was just being a piece of shit now.

The man whined. "Dammit, Lovi..."

"In your mouth?" he asked, sitting up.

"Ti voglio nel mio culo!"

He didn't need to be asked twice. Maneuvering off the bed, he shimmied out of his pants and yanked off his shirt, crawling back onto the bed. He leaned over Antonio's body to reach into the nightstand, and the Spaniard struggled not to lick the flesh so close to his mouth. Lovino grabbed a tube of lubricant and squirted some into his hand. He waited for it to warm up with his body heat, not willing to risk his arousal just because he wanted to stick it in.

Antonio watched keenly as Lovino slowly slicked himself up, paying close attention to the ridge just before the head on his shaft, and spread his legs a little wider. Lovino used his clean hand to lift a leg onto his shoulder, opening the other's body more.

"Fuck," he muttered, throbbing and twitching obviously. Even if he was having revenge sex, he wasn't going to be a dick. He plugged a slick finger into the other's entrance, whose lips parted slightly. Preparing the other was always a chore, but he simply did not have the patience, he wanted the man so badly. A moment later, he shoved in another and pumped evenly, followed by a third finger.

"I can take it," Antonio finally whispered, voice thick with lust. Relieved, Lovino coaxed his tip to Antonio's puckered hole and pressed in lightly, just to tease.

"Oh, please..." the man continued, spewing pleas in a cacophony of languages.

The Italian man grinned devilishly, so proud that he had all but whittled the other down to a body of want. He pressed in firmly, balls deep, and gave a bit of a shove, just to make sure Antonio really felt it.

"Like, that, Toni?" he asked, voice low in triumphance.

"Yeah~" Antonio whimpered, trying to lift his hips to better take in the other.

And from there, it was a whirlwind, moving precariously fast, hips slamming, skin smacking, beads of sweat down temple and shoulder blades, a symphony of lewd sounds from both their mouths and their bodies, and, true to character, the older man came without warning.

It landed on Antonio's neck and stomach, and he clenched so desperately, he could have forged a diamond out of Lovino's rock-hard length.

"A-Ah..." The amber-haired man sighed, releasing just a moment later, enough that it trailed down the Spaniard's ass cheek.

"Mmm." Antonio's eyes fell closed as he enjoyed the heat of Lovino in him.

Lovino's head hung low as he caught his breath, finally lowering Antonio's leg from his shoulder to the bed. "You actually managed to do it with no hands," he remarked hazily.

The man furrowed his brows, eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I did. Can I let go now?"

Lovino took a moment to think about it. Antonio was so tired now that he might even sleep like a rock. "Yeah."

He pulled out slowly and considered cleaning up, but he too was exhausted. Too many happy chemicals in his body. He lay down next to the other, effectively jetpacking him, and toed the end of the bed to kick the blanket up closer to his hand. He pulled it over them and nipped the back of the other's neck. The brunet was already close to sleep, but Lovino had one thing left to say as he held the other's arms down and twined a leg between his.

"Hey. Don't forget. No hands."

A/N: I'm not big on offering translations. Sorry about it. But I can quickly define a term for you! Jetpacking: Similar to spooning, except that the smaller person, or "little spoon", is spooning the big person, or "big spoon". 3 How cute.