"Ooh, whatcha got there, Schugerg?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Poison's inquiry made sense, given the warehouse full of crates of various contraband that the gang was rummaging through, but her sultry tone about such a mundane context was confusing to him.
Poison clarified by gesturing the tip of her crop toward the side of Rolento's neck, where a reddish-brown mark was just barely visible behind the fabric of his cravat.
"Fun time last night?" she teased, attempting to lower the scarf enough to get a better look at what she was fairly certain was a dense cluster of hickeys. As soon as the crop touched him, though, he deflected it with a heavy strike of his baton that nearly disarmed her. A few heads of their fellow Mad Gears turned in their general direction upon hearing the loud CRACK, although none were fazed by it, especially not Poison, who simply gave a "suit yourself" shrug and hopped down from the crate upon which she had been perched.
"Just trying to make some conversation, Schugerg. I'm happy for you, honestly! I was starting to wonder when an uptight guy like you would ever find a date."
She then paused, lips pursed as though deep in thought. A wicked smile curled against her cheeks as she turned away from him. "Anyway, if you aren't gonna spill the juicy details, maybe I'll go ask Sodom about it!"
"POISON!" Rolento hissed after her, his face as bright red as his scarf.
"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" she laughed, looking back over her shoulder, "But listen, if you ever need any relationship advice, you know who to call." This she added with a wink before strutting to another part of the warehouse, leaving Rolento flustered with the memories of the previous night.
Several weeks of dating Sodom had ultimately led to the moment of the two of them half-naked in the passenger seat of his truck, their mouths agape in heavy breaths and soft gasps as their hands navigated the curves of each others' bodies. Every inhalation was the scent and taste of musk and green tea, every exhale a low groan just barely audible against the Japanese pop music that blared from the speakers.
Rolento would have preferred to listen to anything else, but at least it was nothing that would break his concentration. Sodom stroked his hands along Rolento's bony cheeks, and Rolento did the same upon Sodom's face, although he could only feel the cool metal of Sodom's helmet against his palms.
"You know, it would be easier to kiss me without this," he suggested breathlessly. When he tugged upward on the helmet, however, Sodom pulled away with a yelp of "N-No! I'm fine!" Rolento cocked his head in confusion, but decided that it was none of his business. If Sodom derived his confidence from dressing like a literal samurai, he'd might as well let him have that, especially when he kissed and groped Rolento with such delightful assertiveness.
Rolento leaned back in the leather seat, his legs tightening around Sodom's waist, heels pressing into his back. Sodom began to grind against him in a teasing simulation of intercourse, his panting breaths hot against Rolento's neck.
"Oh fuck...!" Rolento exclaimed at the feeling of Sodom's teeth against his skin, "God fucking damn it!" His slurry of swears melted into an indecipherable moan when Sodom gently bit and sucked at his neck, forming tiny bruises across the sensitive flesh. His body, too, felt like it could melt, like a hot lump of gel at Sodom's touch.
"Mmm... you like that, Senpai?"
But, before Rolento's confusion had the chance to kill his mood, Sodom's teeth grazed him again, his lips clamping onto his neck with a harsh growl. Rolento was ecstatic. He'd have ordered Sodom to fuck him right then and there, had he not climaxed at that exact moment with a loud, desperate groan of relief.
His orgasm made a great mess of his underwear, thick trails of cum dripping down the legs of his boxers and darkening the soft fabric with wet stickiness. He contemplated giving the order anyway, but his whole body had gone limp with exhaustion, and he suspected that he may have even dozed off for a minute before coming to attention with the sudden feeling of Sodom gently kissing his lips.
He ended up finishing Sodom with his hand after a while of slow, lazy strokes along his sizable cock. Now that he had a chance to actually appreciate the dimensions of it, it occurred to Rolento that it would have required a good amount of preparation to take in. After all, Rolento was a man who liked to adequately prepare for any possible encounters. Being a masterful tactician was something he took pride in. Therefore, running his hands across Sodom's cock was as much about pleasuring him as it was about gaining intel.
Sodom's voice had gone from deep growls to soft whines as Rolento jacked him off, which he found to be somewhat unbecoming, although he suspected that he hadn't sounded much more appealing while Sodom had been biting his neck. He could still feel the spots, wet and sore, likely to leave lasting marks. Not a problem, he had thought at the time, his neck was easy to hide.
Sodom insisted on kissing him again when his orgasm hit, their mouths locking tightly, exchanging flavor on their tongues: Sodom like salted seaweed, Rolento a rich tobacco. His grip tightened around the thick head of Sodom's cock when he came, catching much of the ejaculate in his hand, although it was somewhat more watery than he had expected, the majority of it slipping between his knuckles. Rolento held onto him through the full extent of his orgasm, until his cock ceased throbbing and softened in his palm. He then gave it a few more strokes, which caused Sodom to wince and shudder.
"Holy shit, Rol-chan--"
A loud CRASH jolted Rolento out of his memories and sent him into a battle stance, both hands cupped around the grenades at his torso. The sound was, however, followed by a boisterous cackle, and from where Rolento had taken cover, he could see Poison a few aisles over, sitting on Hugo's shoulders with a look of embarrassment and delight across her face. Evidently, she had reached for a box on one of the upper shelves, but had either misjudged its weight or her grip, causing it to fall onto the concrete floor with great force. Rolento sighed at the immaturity that he had to put up with.
He raised a hand to his neck, pressing his fingers gently to the discolored spot as if to check his own pulse (which was, at the moment, quite rapid). His mind and blood racing, he took a moment to consciously steady his breathing, focussing his concentration back onto the task at hand. He suspected that they must have received some bad information about the contents of the warehouse, for it seemed that most of the storage crates contained nothing but imported snack foods. Still, he figured that Sodom would enjoy the pocky, and so he pocketed a box as he sifted through the items.
In the back of his mind, he considered that this plan was quite silly: offering sweets to a loved one like some sort of desperate, lovestruck suitor. What would be next? Flowers? Rings? Settling down in a wholesome neighborhood with a dog or three? Ridiculous! Metro City had no such neighborhood.
It was foolish, dangerous even, this feeling of emotional attachment, but he nonetheless wished that Sodom could have joined them on the evening's heist. But, as it were, someone had to bring in money for Mad Gear, and fighting was something that Sodom was consistently good at. Sure, bringing swords to a fistfight was technically cheating, but Rolento admired his drive to do whatever it took to succeed. And, sure, the whole "urban samurai" aesthetic verged on the absurd, but even that was starting to grow on him.
In a city as chaotic and bizarre as this, Sodom was one of the "normal" ones.
Maybe a taste of normalcy was what Rolento needed.