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Pinot Noir

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“You’re positive that you’re okay with this?” Edward asks, buckling the straps on his heels. “I understand that it’s a strange request, but regardless, this methodology will work out to our advantage, I assure you.”

“You agreed to indulge me in the meantime,” Oswald replies, pinching the Georgette material of Edward’s stunning emerald green dress as a reminder. “A shame it probably won’t see another use.” Edward smiles and rises from his seat, gesturing down at himself. The dress has a slit on the side riding high up his thigh and a plunging neckline. The fine material somehow covers Edward’s skin and shows off every curve of his body simultaneously. Oswald swallows.

“Well?” Edward asks, putting a hand on his hip to convey his annoyance that Oswald has yet to respond.

“I can’t wait to kill him,” Oswald blurts. Edward relaxes his posture, concern bleeding into his expression as he hurriedly advances towards Oswald and cups his husband’s face in his hands.

“We don’t have to do this,” Edward assures him, thumbs stroking over high cheekbones. “It’s just a fantasy. We can still do what needs to be done and eliminate whatever aspects of it you’re uncomfortable with.”

“It’s mostly because… I want to be the only person who sees you like this and thinks that you’re mine,” Oswald confesses. “Hopefully, the act of murdering him will immediately rectify the anger that thought causes me.” Edward breathes a sign of relief, kissing the bridge of Oswald’s nose gently.

“Let’s head out, then.”

***

Oswald crowds Edward back against the bar of the Lounge and kisses him, hiking the dress up his leg to reveal more of his skin to their unwitting witness. It’s no coincidence he’s crashed Edward back between the seats next to Giuseppe "Pino" Maroni, no coincidence at all. It hadn’t taken much digging at all to find out that Pino had a dubious internet history and a predilection for leggy boys in dresses, and everything had come together from there. The music pulsates and Edward grinds back against him, arching his back and showing off the column of his throat. It takes little more than a glance for Oswald to ascertain that their quarry is sufficiently entranced.

“You like him?” Oswald asks Pino, running a hand up Edward’s leg to grip his thigh and hitch it higher up his hip. Pino swallows hard and takes another sip of his drink. Oswald had instructed his bartender to make them strong and keep them coming, and with any luck the alcohol will expedite the moment Pino lets his guard down and goes for the bait.

“That’s your man,” Pino says, surprising Oswald by making the intelligent choice and refusing to answer the question.

“You don’t like me?” Edward pouts, lifting a hand to Pino’s cheek and turning his head.

“Your pupils are dilated,” Edward states, as though this knowledge is in any way an accurate indicator. “You don’t have to lie. Ozzie won’t get angry. Right, babe?” Edward asks him, voice turned pleading like they’d discussed.

“Of course not,” Oswald says, kissing him deeply. Edward moans and makes a show of clinging to him before breaking apart, hooking a hand behind Pino’s neck. He draws Pino into a kiss, coaxing him to move closer against him.

“We’re looking for a third tonight,” Edward says, a confession whispered so low as to almost be inaudible over the club’s music. All in the script. “Are you interested?”

Pino swallows and nods, and Oswald smirks like the cat the caught the canary as Edward draws their hapless victim’s complete attention. He kisses Edward’s throat and rights him, taking hold of his hand.

“Follow us,” Oswald commands, leading Edward back towards the private rooms in the Lounge. Pino signals to his security detail and follows. Bingo.

Almost as soon as the door closes, Pino pulls Edward to him and pushes him back against the wall, kissing him heatedly. Another moment passes, and then he hoists Edward up, carrying him to the mattress and subsequently dropping him on it. Edward bounces once, and then Pino is covering him with his body. Oswald huffs once in annoyance that Pino has taken the proceedings into his own hands, but he beings to disrobe, toeing off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket. Edward’s whimpers draw his attention, and he watches Pino’s large hands roam over his husband’s body for a moment before ascertaining that Edward is simply enjoying himself. Climbing onto the bed, Oswald taps his shoulder to draw his attention. Pino’s head snaps up to look at him.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Oswald begins. “You’re going to sit on the bed, and Edward is going to sit on your cock. You will not move, and I’m going to finger him until he can take me as well. At that point, we will switch positions and you may fuck my husband, understood?”

“You got it, boss,” Pino says, staring hungrily down at Edward’s body. Edward slips the straps of the dress down his shoulders and makes to take it off, but Pino stops him. “I want you to keep it on.”

Edward looks to Oswald, who nods slightly, before nodding his assent to Pino and moving the straps back into place. Oswald passes Edward a condom, kissing him and then pulling Edward’s underwear down his long legs while Pino moves to sit back against the headboard. He unzips his pants, pulling himself free. Edward follows him, opening and applying the condom before turning and sinking onto his cock with little resistance.

“Oh, fuck,” Pino curses. “Oh, God.”

“Just ‘Edward’ is fine,” Edward quips, breathing heavily and leaning back against the other man’s chest. Oswald retrieves lube from the nightstand and crawls between their le gs, placing one of Edward’s calves on his shoulder and moving the dress out of his way. He’s careful not to injure himself on Edward’s stilettos, unlikely as it might be. Oswald presses a finger between Edward’s legs and swallows a hiss by locking their lips together, moving his digit to loosen Edward’s rim. Pino behaves himself, even as Oswald’s finger teases Edward open alongside his cock. By the time Oswald works a second in, there’s sweat on Edward’s brow and Pino is holding his hips uncomfortably tight. Oswald peppers kisses onto his face and whispers reassurances into his ears, pressing rhythmically into Edward’s prostate to try and alleviate some of the discomfort. He crooks his fingers and pulls the dress down, rolling Edward’s nipple in his mouth just to hear him wail before adding the third.

“You’re doing so well,” Oswald tells him, “You’re almost ready to take us both, you’re going to feel so full. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll see stars,” Pino weighs in. “You’re going to be begging me.” Edward’s mouth tightens to a thin line, and Oswald kisses him before he comes back with a smart retort that will ruin the surprise. They both know who’s going to be begging later.

Removing his fingers, Oswald pours more lube into his palm before taking himself in hand and pressing into his husband. Edward groans and tightens his hold on Oswald’s shoulders, breathing deeply. Oswald pauses, taking note of the difference between being inside of his husband alongside a toy and being alongside another man. It’s tighter, hotter somehow, and Edward is more out of sorts than he ever is when they’re doing this alone. Pino is teasing his nipples, laying kisses down the sides of Edward’s neck as well as bites and hickies. Oswald feels a flare or jealousy at this, but they hadn’t told him he couldn’t.

“Oswald,” Edward moans, pulling him into a kiss. Oswald thrusts into him, and both Edward and Pino groan appreciatively underneath him. He pulls out and settles back against the headboard, arranging the pillows comfortably behind him. Edward clambers out of Pino’s lap at sits in Oswald’s, facing him. Finally, Pino kneels behind Edward and pushes back inside of him, kissing his shoulder in comfort. He pauses once he’s fully inside, looking to Oswald for approval.

“Go ahead,” Oswald says, waving a hand at him and kissing Edward lazily. Before long Edward is howling his pleasure at a volume that assures Oswald that the soundproofing was a worthwhile investment, which has indeed paid off. Pino is by no definition a small man, and every thrust slams the headboard back against the wall while Edward rocks in their laps, face screwed up in concentration as he tries not to climax.

“Oswald,” Edward whispers. “Oswald, I’m going to come.”

“Stop,” Oswald tells Pino.

“Why?” he huffs, continuing to rock into Edward. “Doesn’t he get a say?” He keeps his hands on Edward’s hips, pulling him back into his thrusts. A knife penetrates his thigh.

“What the fuck!” he screams, jerking roughly out of Edward and scrambling for the side of the bed. Three hands grab him and pull him back, pinning him to the sheets. The knife flashes above him and comes down again into his shoulder. He wails and tries to twist free, landing a punch to Oswald’s side that only serves to earn him another knife wound, this time in his abdomen. Edward straddles him again, keeping that arm pinned with one hand while Oswald holds the other down.

“Get off me, you fucking sickos!” Pino demands weakly, his wounds bleeding sluggishly as he struggles under the men holding him down. Oswald wordlessly passes the knife to Edward, who delivers three quick jabs to his chest, the knife sliding in and out with ease. Pino cries out and struggles, watching as Oswald uses his free hand to push himself back inside of his husband, as if nothing happened. Edward moans and arches against him, the knife blessedly forgotten for a moment. Pino remains quiet in the hopes that they’ll forget about him, too caught up in their own moment.

“You ready, love?” Oswald whispers into his ear, reaching out to take Edward’s knife-wielding hand into his own.

“Yes— oh— yes, Oswald,” Edward moans in reply, moving back against Oswald’s gentle thrusts. Pino bucks as hard as he’s able, trying to dislodge Edward from atop him and break his wrists free from under their hands. Edward keeps his seat, and Oswald’s grip on his wrist remains firm, but he does manage to rip his hand free from underneath Edward’s. He lands a punch to Edward’s ribs, but it has hardly any strength behind it, too concerned with landing a blow while he was able rather than putting much force into it. Oswald leans forward, consequently moving Edward closer to Pino and pressing his slim figure between them. Pino rears back for a headbutt that will surely knock him unconscious. Just as quickly, he feels cool metal at his throat.

Oswald has moved their joined hands to his throat, and with an almost identical smirk they draw the blade across his neck together. He feels warmth trickling down to his chest, and the last thing he sees before he dies is the image of his killers tenderly kissing one another, the instrument of his murder clasped in their linked hands.

Oswald and Edward hardly pause as their victim takes his last breaths beneath them, and within moments Edward is coming over the body’s still-warm chest and crying out Oswald’s name. He pants heavily for a moment, then moves from straddling the corpse to lying beside it, inviting Oswald back between his legs once he’s comfortable.

“You look so beautiful,” Oswald says, pushing inside and smudging a spattering of blood across Edward’s cheekbone. He takes in the sight Edward makes beneath him, all creamy skin wrapped in deep green and speckled with flecks of dark red.

“Thank you,” Edward says, and Oswald knows he doesn’t just mean for the compliment. Oswald comes with a groan, adding a bite to Edward’s chest that his everyday clothes will cover, but the dress will not.

“Was that what you wanted?” Oswald pants, leaving sloppy kisses up and down Edward’s neck and on his face as he comes down from orgasmic bliss.

“And more,” Edward assures him. “You were wonderful.”

“Umberto should be less of a hassle to deal with,” Oswald says. “Pino always was quick with the questions and slow to follow my orders.”

“His brother won’t make the same mistakes,” Edward assures him, kissing Oswald’s cheek softly. Breaking into a wicked grin, he tacks on, “If he knows what’s good for him.”

“We can always show him a good time if he becomes a problem,” Oswald suggests. Edward’s eyes widen excitedly.

“Would you want to do something like this again?” he asks, countless ideas no doubt running through his head.

“In the event that activities of this sort are conducive to our goals, I wouldn’t be opposed to utilizing this particular method of dealing with complications in the future” Oswald answers, a speech he’s no doubt rehearsed prior to this.

“You found it exciting, didn’t you?” Edward postulates. “You’re high on adrenaline, on the thrill of the kill. That’s how I feel.”

Oswald kisses him fiercely and says, “I wish I could kill him again.”

“There’s only one Pino,” Edward admits, “But there’s plenty more where that came from.”

“Let’s give it a few weeks, at least,” Oswald says. “I don’t need the heat right now, and the Maronis will be cross enough over this.”

“That’s sooner than I thought you’d allow us to indulge again,” Edward says. “It must have really done it for you.”

“I’m sure you know why,” Oswald says, kissing him softly.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” Edward asks as their kiss slowly finishes, his face still flushed from their coupling. Oswald shifts on top of him, reluctant to move off Edward so soon. Yet his whole body is buzzing with the kill, and a glass of wine would certainly help bring him down.

“What did you select?” Oswald asks, knowing by now that Edward would have had the foresight to stock the room ahead of time.

“A Pinot Noir, of course.” Oswald rolls his eyes and kisses him. It never stops surprising him that he loves this man, tawdry puns and all.