The sex had been good. Better than just good, considering he’d be walking sore for the next few day. But that’s what Prosciutto had wanted anyway- just to be fucked. And this stranger had delivered.
It had been nearly a year—though Prosciutto would never admit to such a dry streak. Sure, he had been warned by older associates what the first year in big law would be like. But he had assumed those were overestimates to scare off the cowards, not that he would be intimidated. Nine months of 90+ hour weeks later, and he was just proven wrong. He barely had enough time to go home to his apartment to sleep, eat anything other than delivery, and certainly no time for seduction or sex. So he turned to the apps, sue him.
“You can’t smoke in here,” the deep voice chastised from the other side of the bed as the blonde reached down into his coat pocket to pull out a pack and lighter. Even though the other man’s profile photo had only shown off his large chest, with piercings through his nipples, under the name ‘Nero’ the blonde booked the hotel room as soon as they matched. The stranger was exactly as he seemed online, unfairly attractive, mysterious, and a hell of a lay.
Prosciutto didn’t even bother to look over as he lit up, “Well considering I’m paying for this room, I can stand to pay the cleaning fee.” He only inhaled once, eyes closed as he felt the springs of the cheap mattress poking at his spine interrupting his relaxation, before the cigarette was torn from his hands.
Sitting up indignantly, the blonde watched as the dark-eyed man put his cigarette out on Prosciutto’s own tie that had been left on the bed. He spoke again, his tone soft but dark, “It isn’t good for you.”
“So?” Prosciutto slid back down on the bed, “Not your fucking problem what I do with my health.”
There was a pause, and for a moment Prosciutto wondered if Nero was going to chastise him again—what was he, some kind of nurse? No, he definitely didn’t look like any nurse Prosciutto would trust. After a few seconds, all Nero said was, “Of course.”
The blonde’s eyes trailed over to the man laying beside him. The fuck was that? He blinked the thought away, maybe it was simply that only weird guys had massive dicks.
Still….Prosciutto could really use a cigarette right now. But he wasn’t about to go through that whole game with Nero again, only to have another one wasted.
“Do you believe in past lives, Prosciutto?” Nero asked suddenly. The question hung in the room like a weight. It was a silly question, wasn’t it? At the very minimum, it was a silly question for a one night stand.
“Why? Are you some kind of astrologer or something?” Prosciutto looked over with a raised eyebrow, meeting Nero’s dark gaze. Truthfully that darkness only came from his jet black eyes, the rest of his expression was gentle, lost in thought. “Might be a load of bullshit—might not be,” he answered truthfully, “Guess that’s just something we’ll never know.”
“Right,” Nero smiled softly as he sat up, “I should be out.” Silently, Prosciutto watched as he put back on his clothes, layers of dark leather and straps. It was almost an art to behold, a graceful elegance to the large man’s movements. He wouldn’t mind watching Nero simply existing, honestly.
“Text me if you ever want to meet again. I would enjoy that,” Nero was already on the way out, his proper phone number scrawled on a notepad on the hotel side table. Prosciutto picked it up and placed it somewhere he would remember tomorrow morning.
Before the door shut, Prosciutto shouted after him, “See you next time Risotto.”
Risotto? Where did that come from?