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Doflamingo wouldn’t go so far as to say he was bored, considering how tense the atmosphere is, in one way or another. The man seated on the other side of the table is stoic at best, nonchalant for lack of a better word. It’s thrilling yet nerve wracking because Doflamingo’s sure anybody else would be enthused to be in his position. It makes the hairs on Doflamingo’s arm, the back of his neck, raise in attention. Goosebumps line his skin, and try as he may to act as unintimidated as possible, the man is getting to him.
“You have quite a lot of experience Doflamingo.”
The way he words it makes Doflamingo sound as if he’s a show horse and he wonders if it’s on purpose, or if it’s natural. Heat rises to his cheeks, because yes, yes he does have quite a lot of experience. His problem has always been being too curious or too greedy, there are no in betweens. Doflamingo’s been given what he’s wanted since he was a child, of course it would only follow through with sex.
“As do you.”
Not quite as much, it’s plain to see where his interests line, where both of theirs connect. A fated meeting, no doubt. All of it settled between the stack of papers placed in front of them.
“If I can be blunt-“
“You can be anything you want to be.” Doflamingo muses, leaning back in his chair.
It’s clear that Crocodile doesn’t take kindly to being interrupted, which only makes Doflamingo want to keep doing so.
“Mind your tongue next time,” Crocodile warns, “the glasses, is there a reason for them?”
Doflamingo could be a brat, but Crocodile doesn’t seem the type to entertain disobedience. While he’s had his fair amount of playthings, Crocodile’s got a look in his eyes that just dares Doflamingo to defy him so he can display how he’ll put him in his place.
“It’s just for the aesthetic.” Doflamingo replies.
“Good. Take them off.”
Doflamingo’s not used to people being so straightforward with him. Even with past dominants, he was always able to get his own way considering who he is. Crocodile addresses Doflamingo like he’s no better than the dirt on the bottom of his shoe, like he already has every single dirty fantasy of his figured out. And with that, Doflamingo easily plucks his glasses off to toss them on the table. If Crocodile is shocked by the color of his eyes then he has nothing to show for it than the blowing of smoke from his cigar. The neglect, yet another thing of many from this man, that gets him hot.
“You don’t have a safeword.” Crocodile wastes no time getting back to business.
Doflamingo hums. It’s clear that if Crocodile agreed for them to meet up at the place where he works, then he would know his fair share of information on Doflamingo. It’s neither a question nor statement, his tone full of judgement.
“I do not.” Doflamingo smiles.
Crocodile’s eyebrow raises in clear disappointment, lips turning down in a frown. While Doflamingo doesn’t mind humoring people into thinking he’ll submit to them, he’s surprised to find that he wouldn’t mind doing so for Crocodile. There’s something about his aloof nature, how he seems not a man to be trifled with. All clear cut edges, deep rooted sadism, yet the expression in his eyes shows he cares for Doflamingo’s wellbeing. A thoughtful dom, unlike others before who agreed without complaint.
“Then have one.”
“It’s okay,” Doflamingo flicks his eyes downward, obviously checking him out, “I won’t need it.”
There’s a twitch to that lovely hook that Doflamingo admires, the shimmering gold having caught his attention since they first stepped into the room.
“Well, for your own good then.” Crocodile huffs.
“The fact that you’re sitting across from me now tells me you knew what you were getting yourself into,” Doflamingo points out, finally tearing his gaze away from Crocodile’s hook, “if you don’t like it, you’re free to look for another submissive. There’s a pretty one with tattoos that is second only to me.”
Crocodile chews on his cigar, and he doesn’t know if he’s taking it into consideration or if he’s thinking of all the ways to dispel the brattiness from Doflamingo’s tone.
“I think a weekend test is in order,” Crocodile surmises, much to Doflamingo’s surprise, “if you agree, we’ll meet at a time and a place here in the club. I take it you won’t need any assistance?”
Doflamingo grins without meaning to. The way Crocodile phrases that shows he knows who Doflamingo is, the achievements of his family name. Doflamingo wonders if he’s questioning why he does this for a living when it’s clear he can do whatever he so pleased. He stops himself from asking that question, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference. Doflamingo knows the reason for him leaving his last club, so he won’t make the same mistake another made before him.
“That won’t be a problem.”
Crocodile rises from his chair the minute the words are out of Doflamingo’s mouth, shocking him once again. Doflamingo keeps his contact with him, watching as he draws closer. Crocodile stops right before his chair, and Doflamingo’s breath hitches when his hook is placed under his chin, tilting his head back. Thick fingers come up to take the cigar out of his mouth and Doflamingo’s enraptured.
Crocodile’s beautiful, really beautiful. The hue of the room casts almost a sinister glow over him. The scar on his face making Doflamingo’s fingers itch with the need to trace it. His stark black hair pushed back carefully, minus a few stray strands that Doflamingo wouldn’t mind tugging on. Perfectly broad chested, his shirt molded enough that Doflamingo’s sure if he puffed up the buttons would go flying. But it’s the hook that does it for him, the cold lifeless metal keeping Doflamingo’s eyes locked onto darker ones.
“I expect for my submissive to act accordingly, Doflamingo.”
The words don’t rush out of Crocodile, they’re said smoothly and calculated, booking no room for argument. If Doflamingo thought for even a second he’d be the one to gain the upper hand, Crocodile was able to shut it down with careful precision.
“The next time we meet, I do hope you’ll be in the proper headspace.”
•
A proper headspace, Crocodile had said.
It was easy enough to get Doflamingo in one. It showed when they were together the first time. His body was full of tension, yet when he opened his mouth there wasn’t a waver to his voice. It made Crocodile want to break him, but they had more time for that. It was just testing the waters, to see if they were a good fit for each other. Crocodile had no idea why he hoped they were, until the moment he had Doflamingo kneeling in front of him.
There wasn’t a hint of teasing in those pretty eyes, no backtalk, nothing but complete and utter surrender. Doflamingo with his mouth opening without needing to be told, yet not blinking when Crocodile popped him on the lips. Doflamingo not making a move at all after being told he’s much too greedy for his own good. Doflamingo only spoke when it was asked of him, saying thank you when given any sort of pleasure. It shows the amount of experience he has, how long he’s been in the scene, as well as his age. A man that knows when it’s time for play and when it’s not.
It made things easier, Crocodile supposes. The way they got in sync should have told Crocodile something, but he’s never one to look too far ahead into things unless truly necessary. The only thing that matters is the now, and the present is more than appealing. Crocodile circles around Doflamingo, smiling to himself when his head follows, trying to figure out which direction he’s coming from, which one he’ll head next.
If only to keep him on his toes- literally and figuratively- Crocodile lets the tassels to the flogger brush against Doflamingo’s thigh. Doflamingo gasps, predictably, arms straining high above him, but he bites his lip before any sound can escape.
“Good boy.” Crocodile praises.
It amuses Crocodile to praise Doflamingo because it’s rare for him to do so. Yes, he enjoys bringing his submissive to the height of pleasure, but it’s not often he voices how pleased he is. He’ll do so with touches and kisses, with stings of his whip, but never with words. Doflamingo enjoys words, maybe voices in general. He gets such a pretty hue of red on his cheeks, bottom lip slipping between his teeth to allow a gasp to slip out.
If only because he can’t help himself, Crocodile rounds Doflamingo once more, a soft flick of his wrist landing strands of leather across Doflamingo’s backside. He tenses gorgeously, muscles contracting and loosening, relaxing in the bondage keeping him vaulted to the ceiling. Crocodile takes a step back, running the tassels through the curve of his hook before letting them flick off to Doflamingo’s ass once more. Doflamingo, also, cries beautifully. It’s a rugged sound coming from a rich baritone that would have Crocodile himself shivering if he were the one in Doflamingo’s position.
But Doflamingo takes it good, takes the hint of pain with breathy moans, swaying in his restraint. Crocodile pauses to toss the flog over his shoulder, caressing Doflamingo’s ass that’s hued a pretty pink. He molds himself to Doflamingo’s back side, placing a kiss on the curve of his spine, hand trailing around to find his cock dripping. Crocodile tsks under his breath, thumb stroking the slick head.
“Does my flog feel that good baby?”
Doflamingo whimpers, hips shooting into the touch, but just as quickly as he touches him, Crocodile lets him go.
“Please.” Doflamingo whispers.
Crocodile tuts, flattening his palm to slap the length of Doflamingo’s cock.
“You’re not in any position to beg right now.”
Though Crocodile wouldn’t mind hearing it again. Doflamingo sounded delectable the first time they were together, body trembling after his third orgasm, pleading for another. Damn, does Doflamingo take it good.
“Or maybe you are.” Crocodile murmurs thoughtfully.
He steps away, immediately taking notice of Doflamingo’s head going to where he assumes he’s moving. Like voices, Doflamingo also craves sight, but Crocodile knows the reason for that one. Crocodile moves to the table to grab the lube, placing the flog down before turning on his heels, but this time he waits, admiring the picture Doflamingo makes. He’s gorgeous blindfolded, bound, those large arms of his high above his head.
Crocodile is about ninety nine percent sure that he could tug on it and he’d be ripped free. There’s something intoxicating about having such a large man at his mercy. Doflamingo’s abs are rippling, beautifully broad chest puffing up with each intake of breath. The most erotic looking cock Crocodile has ever seen hangs between his legs, massive and dripping precome like a faucet. Large balls heavy between his legs, thighs thick with muscle, calves no doubt aching because the position of the ceiling restraint leaves him on the balls of his feet.
Although, Crocodile’s favorite part is the thick strap of leather wrapped around Doflamingo’s corded throat. D-rings are on all four sides, something he plans on using for a later time. For now, Crocodile settles on what he has planned. His steps are light as he starts walking back to Doflamingo, lube in hand.
“Your patience is truly admirable,” Crocodile notes, Doflamingo jumps, too caught up in his head.
Crocodile places his hook between the cheeks of Doflamingo’s ass, and the noise that rips out of him could have alerted the entire club if the room wasn’t soundproof.
“What do you say when you’ve been praised?”
“Th- thank you, Master.”
Crocodile shouldn’t want more. He uses his hook to spread one of his ass cheeks, placing the opened end of the lube on his entrance.
“Don’t squeal this time.” Crocodile warns amusingly.
The stifling sound is strangled this time when Crocodile squeezes, and it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does but anyone would be aroused if they heard it. Lube glistens on his hook, dripping between Doflamingo’s thigh. Crocodile tosses the bottle aside to tap on Doflamingo’s hole.
“Hold it in like a good boy.”
Doflamingo’s head drops between his shoulders, body trembling, hole pulsating. He’s trying so hard, either to do what he’s told or suck Crocodile’s fingers inside of him, it’s hard to tell but he makes the decision for him. Crocodile pulls his hand away, rubbing the lube to coat his palm evenly.
“I’ll know if you spill it,” Crocodile warns, stepping in front of Doflamingo, “I’m sure you remember what a punishment entails.”
Doflamingo’s mouth is hanging open, a line of drool leaking down to his chin and Crocodile’s happy he spoke before looking at him because he’s speechless now. Doflamingo’s cheeks are a bright red, his cock the same angry color. If he had permission to speak Crocodile’s sure nothing innocent would be coming from those lips. Crocodile steps close enough that Doflamingo can feel his heat, loosely wrapping his hand around the head of his cock, lips pressed to one of his nipples.
“Have I ever told you how much I like these, baby?” Crocodile licks teasingly around the piercing and Doflamingo mewls, hips jolting forward.
The action has his dick slipping through the channel of Crocodile’s hand and Doflamingo’s head tosses back, body shuddering as he groans loudly. Crocodile tightens his grip at the base of Doflamingo’s cock, stroking back to the head.
“You want to fuck my hand puppy?”
Doflamingo’s head nods instantly, panting. A glance down shows his muscles tensed and straining.
“But you know how much I hate how sloppy you get,” Crocodile taunts, playfully slapping Doflamingo’s shaft, “your little cock makes a mess of me every time.”
It’s only their first scene, if you don’t include the test run, but one wouldn’t be able to tell with Doflamingo’s reaction. The words must get to him, judging by the creak of the restraint. Crocodile doesn’t bother hiding his laugh, rising on his toes. He’s only tall enough for his lips to brush along Doflamingo’s jawline, but that’s enough, feeling the rage of his pulse is more than enough.
“Isn’t there something else you’d rather make a mess of,” Crocodile strokes Doflamingo at a steady pace, “come on and tell me what it is pet, what do you want?”
Doflamingo gasps loudly, jaw working along Crocodile’s lips. He could slow the pace for him, but Doflamingo can take this. The lube might be dripping out of his ass, but that was planned from the start, it was all to get Doflamingo right here. Right here on this cusp of breathlessness, not knowing his words because all he can focus on are Crocodile’s. Crocodile moves his hand away for only a split second, enough to rip the blindfold off, growing harder at Doflamingo’s dazed expression.
“Speak slowly for it baby,” Crocodile teases, wrapping his hand back around Doflamingo’s length, “let me hear that pretty voice.”
Blonde eyelashes flutter, Doflamingo’s mouth working open and closed. Crocodile takes another step forward, his straining cock pushes on the zipper as he does so, but that’s not his focus right now. No matter how much he can’t wait to be buried in Doflamingo’s ass for the first time, all that matters is the floaty expression, how hoarse his moans are getting. Crocodile teases Doflamingo’s balls with the blunt edge of his hook and his eyes roll, a guttural whine echoing around the room.
Crocodile grins, slipping so that his hook curves to Doflamingo’s ass, balls settled on the base of the metal. On the next stroke to Doflamingo’s cock, warmth shoots out of him and onto Crocodile’s shirt. Crocodile is gracious with his pleasure, happy to take Doflamingo to yet another height, jacking him off to help milk him of his release until he’s shivering uncontrollably.
Much like everything else that Crocodile has witnessed with Doflamingo, he’s gorgeous on the brink of ecstasy. Blue and brown eyes stay stuck behind his socket, jaw hanging yet no sound comes out except a pathetic whimper. His hips rock back as if to get away only to be met with the poke of Crocodile’s hook, seizing up, another spurt dribbling down Crocodile’s wrist. Once Doflamingo settles he lets his hand stay loose around him, slowly dragging his hook away but making sure Doflamingo feels it.
Crocodile makes a mental note of the reaction, wanting to etch this moment in his mind. How Doflamingo looks bound just for him, taking the blunt of his hook between the crack of his ass, his perineum. Digging only a touch painful to Doflamingo’s balls because he knows he likes the ache it brings.
“Thank you sir,” Doflamingo mumbles, voice slurred with arousal, “thank you, thank you.”
Crocodile stirs at the near worship, Doflamingo’s lips dripping with praise. Does he even know what that kind of devotion does to a man? Here Crocodile should be on his knees thanking him for being so good, for submitting so freely and without restraint. Crocodile trembles as he steps away, leaving a lingering kiss on Doflamingo’s chest before walking to the side panel.
Doflamingo’s sigh is audible when his feet touch the floor, legs visibly trembling as he gets used to not being on the tips of his toes. Crocodile walks up to him, carefully uncuffing the wrist restraints. He’s much too big of a man to be as relaxed as he is, but Crocodile takes it in kind, happy that Doflamingo has no shame in clinging to him. The train of thoughts, once again, take Crocodile off guard, but he pushes them aside.
“How are you feeling baby,” Crocodile asks softly, cupping Doflamingo’s cheek while his hook curls around his waist, “what color are you?”
Doflamingo’s eyelashes flutter, and it really should be a sin to be so pretty. It’s clear Doflamingo is riding his high, eyes clouded with lust.
“’m good sir, ‘m green.”
Crocodile’s eyes widen when a kiss is suddenly placed on his nose, pressing their foreheads together. Clinginess was not something Crocodile expected from a man of Doflamingo’s stature. Crocodile clears his throat of the surprise, patting Doflamingo’s cheek.
“Bend over the bed.”
Doflamingo does as he’s told, and Crocodile straightens himself up. It’s not like him to get lost in a pretty face, especially during a scene. There’s something about how Doflamingo is so carefree. Perhaps it’s because of his name, the weight it holds, how he’s so easily able to let it go during these moments. Especially with the right dom. Crocodile could be that dom, indefinitely if he’s being quite honest with himself.
Crocodile’s willing to do it, tame this man who has too much time on his hands and not enough minutes to do anything with it. Crocodile is behind him just as quick as he bends over, presenting a sloppy hole that’s still twitching. The sudden possessiveness is not at all unwelcome, but he still tamps it down. Now is not the time nor the place for such thoughts, the only thing that matters is taking care of Doflamingo. Crocodile sweeps his fingers between the crack of Doflamingo’s ass, tsking under his breath.
“What did I tell you puppy.” Crocodile pushes a finger inside of him, cock stirring at Doflamingo’s whine.
“T- to, to hold it, hold it in sir.”
Doflamingo’s back arches when he stuffs him up to a knuckle, curving his finger to rub in smooth strokes. Doflamingo keens high, hiking his hips, groaning as Crocodile blankets over him.
“Baby can’t follow one simple rule,” Crocodile rubs him faster before switching to fingerfucking, “you made a mess all over yourself, what do you have to say for that?”
Crocodile pulls his finger out to smack the meat of Doflamingo’s ass and his eyes roll.
“Sorry, I’m sorry Master.”
Crocodile chuckles, caressing Doflamingo’s ass.
“You don’t sound sorry.” Crocodile slaps him again and Doflamingo’s forehead falls to the bed.
It’s easy to do since Doflamingo is bending over now, Crocodile presses his lips close to his ear.
“I didn’t tell you to look away.”
Doflamingo sniffles yet he raises his head up with tears brimming his eyes. Beautiful.
“If at any time you ever questioned your existence,” Crocodile tells him, raising back up now that he knows Doflamingo is watching, “this is the reason why you were born.”
Crocodile slips two fingers into Doflamingo, driving slowly yet forcefully, enough so he feels it but won’t be able to get off on it. Crocodile scissors them apart, twisting them, relishing in the loud squelch lube provides. It gets heat rising on Doflamingo’s cheeks, his breathing going labored. He’s such an open book, already so close to coming again.
“Stand up and stroke yourself, let me see you come.”
Doflamingo pushes off of shaking elbows, bringing a trembling hand to his cock. His movements are sloppy at best, but Crocodile enjoys seeing how his large hand wraps around his exceptional shaft. Crocodile matches Doflamingo’s pace, though he’s much more meticulous. He takes in every twitch of Doflamingo’s body when he presses down on his prostate. Doflamingo’s thumb pushing into his slit, shuddering under his own touch.
“Come on baby,” Crocodile urges, curving his hook around one of Doflamingo’s thighs to drag it apart, “make a mess of yourself.”
Doflamingo’s head falls down, and Crocodile knows he’s gazing at his hook, hand flying on his cock. It doesn’t take long at all for him to come, not after Crocodile purposely digs the blunt edge of it on his skin. Doflamingo spills in thick drops on the bed, staining the satin sheets white as he shudders.
Crocodile’s quick to remove his fingers, hand pressed flat on his spine to shove Doflamingo to the bed. Doflamingo sobs onto the covers, hole winking when Crocodile yanks at his thigh with his hook, fingers working the button to his slacks open.
“Color?” Crocodile grunts.
“Gr- ah,” Doflamingo moans when Crocodile’s cock slaps on his hole, “green sir. Green.”
“If you break this position you’ll get five swats from my flog.”
Doflamingo mumbles out a yes sir that sounds just as frazzled as Crocodile feels. Both of their breaths hitch when Crocodile first enters him, driving in with a lazy pace despite the way he wants to fuck this man mute. Crocodile grips Doflamingo’s hip, keeping his hook anchored around his thigh. Doflamingo’s head falls on the bed, cheek pressed in his own come, a far off look in his eyes as Crocodile keeps up a leisure pace.
There’s no more talking now, only their grunts melting together. The occasional slap of Crocodile’s hand on Doflamingo’s ass. Watching how his cock sinks into him, his walls tightening deliciously, it’s addicting. Doflamingo’s built to fuck and be fucked, and Crocodile’s not ashamed to admit he’s losing himself in him. With every thrust he goes deeper, grunting as he slams in at a fast pace. Crocodile groans out some semblance of Doflamingo’s name when his walls clench tight, his own balls growing taut now that he knows he’s coming.
It’s what he’s wanted for weeks now. He denied himself of it the first time, only claiming Doflamingo’s mouth would be good enough for a proper training, but Crocodile gives into him now. His hips tense as he buries in deep, shuddering as he drops forward, forehead pressed between Doflamingo’s shoulder blades. Doflamingo releases a noncommittal moan before going slack, laying still and pliant so Crocodile can fill him up. His walls milk him of his release, ripping a ragged groan out of him.
“You feel so good baby.” Crocodile praises, placing a kiss on his skin.
There’s a good boy on the tip of his tongue as he pulls away, only for his mouth to be snapped shut at the sight. Crocodile sighs as he pulls out, not even getting lost in how his come pools out of him because Doflamingo’s completely knocked out. Spit is caked under his cheek, mouth hanging open with his eyes closed.
“What a mess you are boy.” Crocodile huffs softly.
•
Doflamingo feels groggy when he comes to. There’s a comfortable weight settled in front of him, a fog of awareness blanketing him. Doflamingo snuggles closer to the warmth, feeling the rumble of a chest, fingers stroking his hair.
The scene.
Doflamingo’s head pops up, first noticing that Crocodile is naked from the waist up, and second that he’s staring at him smugly. Well, it’s probably not smug, but he wouldn’t put it passed him.
“Sleep well princess?” Crocodile’s hand slips out of his hair to cup his cheek, “I’ve never had a sub pass out on me, I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?”
Crocodile’s thumb strokes Doflamingo’s bottom lip in such a soft display that he knows the flush on his cheeks are noticeable.
“No,” Doflamingo swallows, his tongue still feels heavy, “no it was good.”
Amazing. Wonderful.
Doflamingo’s never been pushed to the edge with so little play. Crocodile barely worked him over with his flog, only giving him a hint of attention on his cock, his hole. Yet he was able to break him down so easily as if they were at this for hours. Doflamingo’s never been so overwhelmed yet so satisfied. The sensations of it all, as if it was his first time experiencing a scene as a sub again.
Crocodile reaches behind him to grab a water bottle he didn’t notice before, “drink.”
Doflamingo does, enraptured in Crocodile’s intent stare. Doflamingo ducks his head to hide his blush when the bottle is pulled away, curling back up to Crocodile’s chest. Since he knows it’s okay with him, Doflamingo wraps his arms around his abdomen, snuggling closer.
“Although,” Doflamingo mumbles before the heaviness behind his eyelids come back, “I may need that safeword now.”
Doflamingo’s lulled back into sleep by Crocodile’s sudden laugh, the soothing touch of his hand in his hair.