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If anybody else had approached Paulie with the kind of lewd suggestions he got from Lucci now and again, he'd have punched them into next year. Lucci's immunity to being punched into next year had nothing to do with Lucci per se. The two foremen fell into bed as regularly as they fought, true, but that didn't mean Paulie took any crap from the snooty freak. But the problem was...well, the problem was Hattori. There was something about getting propositioned by a pigeon that left Paulie gaping and constitutionally unable to answer. He'd stand there, jaw working, the suggestion to come by Lucci's place that night to do something interestingly twisted floating in the air like a dare, and by the time Paulie was ready to answer with a perfectly legitimate "No, are you off your nut, I don't go for shit like that, fuck off", Lucci and Hattori would have already walked away, cool as you please.
So Paulie would shake his head in disgust, finish his work, go get drunk at Blueno's after his shift and invariably show up at Lucci's place that night because he was damned if he'd let the other man think he was chicken.
The foreign pair of hands pushed his naked thighs apart, and Paulie swallowed beneath the gag and thought hysterically that the chicken was a gentle, stoic, useful kind of bird and comparisons to one shouldn't be as feared as they were.
The mattress beneath the kneeling Paulie shifted; a sense of presence electrified the skin of his belly. The newcomer was leaning towards him. Paulie could hear breathing, very, very soft breathing near his chin. Then a tongue touched his lips, moving smoothly from flesh to cloth. The gag in Paulie's mouth was the bandana Lucci had worn around his neck this afternoon; it smelled like the cologne he wore. His scent was as stifling as the material, filling Paulie's mouth and nose and robbing him of yet another sense. The blindfold plunged him into darkness, the manacles removed his hands from the equation. His sense of balance was shot too, leaving him unable to move away from his legs-wide kneeling stance, but that wasn't actually part of Lucci's fiendish dare, that was Paulie unwisely mixing rum and those sticky black vodka drinks at Blueno's before coming here and proving himself to be a fearless idiot rather than a barnyard bird.
"Hmmff-ff," said Paulie, moving his head away from the exploring tongue, the muffled statement meaning either "Just who the hell are you?" or "I've just decided that you both piss me off and I will kick your asses as soon as I'm out of these cuffs." Paulie would figure out what he'd actually meant later, when his head was a little clearer.
The hands moved up from his thighs. Touched his belly, which shrank away from the contact despite Paulie's firm intention of remaining stoic in the face of the seriously twisted. His ribs were brushed by fingertips, then his chest. Two thumbs dragged through the aureole of his nipples, tested the tension in his shoulders...The hands were callused and sure, these were hands that worked hard for a living and used wood and tools. The sudden thought that this could be one of his co-workers freaked Paulie out. But it was possible. Lucci wouldn't drag a total stranger into this insanity, he was a private guy who usually kept to himself outside of work- Holy shit, this could be any of them, it could be Lulu, or Kaku, or - god help the future of his libido - Tilestone...Well, no, not Tilestone, the hands were too small and their owner way too quiet. And no, no, it surely couldn't be any of his other colleagues, either; honest, upstanding men all of them, they'd never go for any of this kinky stuff. And it couldn’t be Lucci, since that particular bastard was the one holding Paulie trapped against his chest, teeth finding the crook of Paulie's neck every time Paulie's mind threatened to wander.
The hands finished their initial reconnaissance and Paulie shivered as they left him. He tensed. Nothing happened. He stayed tense. Nothing still happened. Paulie shifted, trying to feel/hear any movement, guess what was going on; his back was pressed against Lucci but the latter wasn't moving. Nothing persisted in happening. What were those two jokers-
Paulie made a noise like a strangled rabbit as two tongues touched his skin near the shoulder and moved as one, running together up the side of his neck, wet trails mingling, ending with a double lap at this ear. Paulie shuddered so hard he'd have fallen off the bed if Lucci wasn't holding him.
The hands were back and this time they meant business. Paulie's skin felt primed to go off like a firecracker, every nerve crackling already and the bastards had barely started. Bastards. Wring both their necks. And Hattori's too, dirty-minded fowl.
Fingers explored him. It was the only word for it. They angled over his body as if judging the length of his collarbone, the span of his throat, spidering down to check the distance between his left nipple and his navel (Paulie's belly flinched again, the washboard abs he was proud of behaving like a gaggle of convent girls being pinched for the first time). The fingers felt like the ends of a compass measuring distances on a map, bent at the digits so the tips touched him hard and rigid. Claw hands. As if they could at any time they wished thrust through Paulie's skin like paper and scoop something out to examine it more closely. Sweet merciful god in heaven, that was exactly the way Lucci always touched him, in the same utter silence - who the holy hell was this guy, Lucci's twin brother?!
Paulie regretted the notion, especially when the tongues did another run up his neck and broke away to do something wet and slick together an inch from his ear. The motherfuckers were kissing.
"Uhooiaassss," Paulie hissed, which might have been an utterly cool, "Don't let me disturb you guys," or possibly, "You're doing this on purpose, Lucci you shit." Now Paulie had a dose of jealousy to add to the rest of the way he felt about this evening's fun and games. Which was a stupid thing to feel towards a fuck-buddy, particularly one like Lucci, Paulie knew that, but he couldn't help but feel it anyway.
They broke apart and Paulie was once more the center of attention. Lucky Paulie.
The man in front of Paulie shifted his weight. Springs in the bed creaked faintly, the only sound in the room apart from Paulie's rasped breath around the constraint of the gag. Then the stranger went about examining Paulie all over again, this time with his tongue. Paulie twitched as his collarbone was lapped, and a cool trail drawn down through the sprinkling of blond hairs to his nipple. The hands, meanwhile, went to check out his thighs, his legs as he kneeled, the tickly and oh-so-sensitive patch on the inside of the knee. Paulie jerked reflexively, but Lucci held him firm against his chest. He was pressed against Paulie's back. He was watching over Paulie's shoulder...Paulie swallowed and bit down hard on the gag to bury the other sounds trembling in his throat.
The stranger took his tongue bath lower down. Licked Paulie's navel, the flare of hipbone, nibbled at the soft juncture to the leg. The arm wrapped around Paulie's waist, and Lucci's too since they were pressed together, was bare, skin to skin contact as he embraced them both. The man had undressed earlier without a word - Paulie had heard the fall of light cloth - while Lucci waited with Paulie on the bed. Paulie was panting with the effort of not finding all this insanely - and very wrongfully - arousing...The scent of cologne, Lucci's arm, the bed beneath his knees, the tongue and hands on him were Paulie's only references in space and time. His head was spinning. He was, after all, very drunk (and thank god for that, it meant he had irresponsibility clause number one at his command)...
Paulie heard a small noise - a 'snap' so faint he wouldn't have caught it if his hearing and sense of touch weren't doing overtime for the rest of his senses. A few wild heartbeats counted the seconds during which the hands left him and Lucci leaned back a little, holding him with only one arm looped around the waist, and then- Paulie had braced himself but he still jumped as fingers, this time slick, cool and wet, touched him near his belly button. At the exact same moment, Lucci touched index, middle and ring finger - also lubed - to Paulie's spine at the equivalent spot on the back. How the hell were these two freaks communicating? They weren't talking, and they were damn sure not signalling with their hands, which were now busy descending below Paulie's beltline.
The hands dipped lower, front and back, and Paulie had a more immediate set of concerns.
"Hmmfaa!" Which meant "What the hell do you think you're doing!"...but Paulie had implicitly agreed to anything Lucci might try tonight; he'd not asked anywhere near enough questions earlier when, drunk and horny, he'd shown up and let Lucci sweet-talk him into 'something different'...let Lucci undress him, gag, blindfold and manacle him, nothing but alcoholic bravado and lust on Paulie's mind until the door had opened and the bed had shivered and dipped beneath someone else's weight. Paulie had walked right into this one, and was in a poor position to negotiate conditions now. Actually, to make matters worse, it was Hattori who, technically, could be said to have 'talked' Paulie into putting himself utterly at Lucci's devious mercy during one of his 'fun and games' nights, and Paulie wasn't going to think about that too much or he'd climb the highest mast in Galley-la's yard tomorrow morning and bellow "Hello world, I'm an idiot!" at the top of his lungs.
Like lewd clockwork, the stranger's hand wrapped around Paulie's cock and Lucci's fingers slipped through the ring of muscles in his ass and Paulie, tingling all over and still trying to get to grips, decided he was going to climb that mast tomorrow anyway.
He arched under the clash of stimuli, or tried to but Lucci's arm across his chest was like a steel hawser. The hand on his cock - the fingers in him - moved at the same pace, the unhurried rhythm of unstoppable tides. A huge pulse shuddered to life in Paulie's gut, it thundered all the way through him from his chest down to his toes, up his neck where Lucci had left bite marks, and then concentrated its chaotic beat in the erection the foreign hands were stroking. Nnng! This was an infuriating situation over which he had no control, he didn't even know this guy who was beating him off, a handjob no better nor worse than Lucci's on any given night - so why the fucking hell did it feel so bad/good in a way that melted his spine?! Paulie jerked, helpless, as the two tongues touched him again, licking his jawline this time, tangling together on his oversensitive skin and sending him into spasms. His cock pulsed beneath the sure motions, fingers touching him from root to the tip leaking warm, sticky drops, the thumb of a guy Paulie didn’t know from Adam wiping them away. Aaaaa-
This wouldn't be the first time Lucci's invitations had turned into something more than Paulie had bargained for (unlike their regular thrown-downs in Paulie's digs which were just straightforward, friendly sex and wholly above-board). But Paulie had decided right about the time the stranger licked his neck that Lucci had gone too far this time, and he was going to confront the man about this tomorrow and give him a piece of his mind about all this fucked up shit before letting his ropes conclude the argument. Yes, that was exactly what he was going to do, assuming he didn't come, baying like a hound in heat, in the next five seconds, because that would make righteous indignation rather hard to uphold.
Lucci's fingers wound their way deep into the heart of sizzling pleasure, doing that thing where his thumb tweaked and caressed the skin around the opening, and Paulie closed his eyes beneath the blindfold and got lost in the pretty, pretty colors dancing there. He was losing it, he was-
The hand left his cock. Lucci's fingers left him at the same time. Paulie gasped and nearly howled behind the gag. His heart banged at his ribcage, intending to leap out and protest in person, and his balls threatened to join it. Paulie heaved in three heavy gasps of air through his nose and through the gaps left by the gag. That worked, his body no longer felt like it would combust in the next three seconds, but the dizziness that followed sent him listing to the right until hands - the stranger's - caught and steadied him.
Then Lucci's unforgiving mitts fastened on Paulie's waist and moved him forward at the same time the other man pulled him onto his lap in the eerie synchro they'd used up till now.
Paulie stiffened. But hell, too late. He'd gotten himself into this mess, no use whining about it now. He could stop, of course. He knew without an ounce of doubt that if he started kicking up a real fuss, it'd stop. Lucci might be as twisted as a corkscrew in bed, but he was- well, he was a buddy. And this guy he was with had to be a friend of his, because there couldn't two silent weirdos like Lucci wandering around Water 7 looking for a good time without them being in some way connected. If Paulie decided he couldn’t handle this, they'd stop and let him go. Not a word would be said. The cluck-cluck-clucking would be all in Paulie's head...
The thing was, Paulie rationalized quickly as his balance shifted forward, if he stopped this now, Lucci's attitude - always superior - would get downright insufferable and then the two of them would be fighting all the time instead of only occasionally, and they'd break things and Iceburg-san would shake his head and sigh and Galley-la would suffer. He had to go through with this for the good of the company and Water 7 at large. This made perfect sense to Paulie. He did have a moment - as Lucci shoved him and manoeuvred him forward and the tip of a cock bumped against the underside of Paulie's thigh - when he wondered how much of this rationalization was due to the rum-vodka-and-lust mix bubbling in his bloodstream, but that was the great thing about alcohol: embarrassment, like regrets, logic and hangovers, were always a thing of Tomorrow.
He didn't think either man had noticed his moment of hesitation. Though the stranger's hand did give him a brief and encouraging pat-pat on the thigh. Paulie wished he didn't have the gag so he could give them a piece of his mind, or possibly bite.
Lucci didn't even pat him, he just shoved Paulie's legs forward so he was sitting astraddle some strange man's lap and leaning back into Lucci. Four hands, working together, lifted him, centered him, eased him down on hardness that penetrated him in a slow, painful/pleasurable tight slide. The hands on his thighs tightened enough to bruise but the bastard didn't make a single solitary goddamned sound, same as bloody Lucci. Did they have some goddamned factory somewhere that turned these silent fucked-in-the head guys out by the dozen?! Aah!
Full, thick, pleasure...Paulie was manacled, helpless, legs canted up, supine like a damsel against a silent Lucci's chest and getting filled by Lucci's equally silent buddy. His pride wanted to hate this, but it was being sabotaged by his libido, busy throwing a fireworks party with enough bliss on order to render bones into jelly.
The Mr X currently fucking Paulie waited until the foreman was ready - anal muscles tightening against the intrusion and then easing by stages - and when he started, his rhythm was slow and easy to adapt to, which made him more of a gentleman than Lucci at any rate (more than Paulie too, he had to admit, he'd never been better than Lucci at doing 'gentle' when it was his turn on top). A familiar soft-and-smooth feel to the slide of his cock in and out was another point in the stranger's favour: he was wearing protection. Yeah, a real prince. But whoever this gentleman was, he was bloody strong. Paulie's back might be against Lucci's chest but the stranger was still holding most of Paulie's weight without assistance. Who...the...hell...? This question was really starting to bug Paulie, because casual sex was a thing that happened at regular intervals in Paulie's life, particularly the less sober bits, but not knowing the identity or even the face of the guy currently grinding his dick into your ass is a little- ohfuckoh! Paulie bit down on the gag hard enough to leave rend marks to keep that exclamation internal, but a muffled "Mhhfmm!" still escaped.
The stranger was holding Paulie up and flexing in and out of him - deliciouslydirtygrinding - while Lucci...Paulie could feel him, the rise and fall of Lucci's bare chest against his back. That hard, sensual mouth was a little above Paulie's ear. Breath, faster than usual but with a harsh bite that spoke of control. It brushed Paulie's too-sensitive skin. Lucci was...Lucci was looking over Paulie's shoulder. Watching. Paulie bucked, helplessly. Lucci watched him get screwed, watched this other man fuck him, and, true to form, did absolutely nothing about Paulie's neglected erection pitching a fit below. Lucci was - it was worth repeating - a bastard. Him and his pigeon. That was the last thought that managed to squeeze through Paulie's mind before it shut down.
Ten long thrusts up to the hilt- twenty- Paulie was aching all over. He could feel dribbles of come wet his abdomen, little spurts like Puffing Tom's safety valve releasing steam before the whole works blew sky high. He needed-
The rhythm slowed and stopped. Which wasn't what Paulie had needed at all.
A moment of supreme silence and absence of motion. Paulie didn't know what was going on but, despite his heaving, bursting lungs, he found himself holding his breath. No words were exchanged above his head. A look, maybe? What were they-
Then Lucci's hand grabbed him by the jaw and twisted his head around. A familiar tongue licked Paulie lips parted by the gag, then the hand left Paulie's chin and reached out. The other man was hauled forward. Paulie shuddered as the movement ground all sorts of things inside him and bent him nearly in two; the feeling of stabbing twisting pleasure hit him like a flash of lightning, over in a heart-stopping second and leaving only a brief wonderment at his own flexibility in its wake. Sound of mouths meeting hard near Paulie's shoulder and then they released each other and Paulie was plunged down, pulled down hard and filled by this stranger, and at the same time Lucci's hands were all over him, raking him down the front to grip his cock, nails of the free hand sinking into Paulie's shoulder, teeth into his neck- Lucci slammed his hips forward, the hardness of an erection grinding into Paulie's spine. And Paulie spasmed and came, arching like a bow between the two of them.
The darkness behind the blindfold was decorated with all sorts of interesting swirly patterns. And then it was only the darkness behind his eyelids. A clink and his arms, loosely held behind his back by padded iron all this time, fell forward numbly where he'd been toppled sideways onto the bed.
Paulie twitched, blinked. Everything was fuzzy. Wha-
He struggled and lifted his head, but Lucci's room was a blur. Paulie pawed at the gag with fingers that felt like sausages. "Hmwha- hey?"
He was alone. The bed was a disordered heap of sheets. His clothes were on the floor. The door was closed. The window was open, but Lucci's digs were on the highest floor of one of Water 7's upper buildings so that didn't signify. Nobody else was around, not even Hattori. Paulie was quite alone, with a large splash of come on his bare stomach and a soggy bandana hanging around his neck. Other than bite and scratch marks on his person there wasn't a single trace of anyone else having been there, not even a suspicious stain. He might have been alone all evening.
"Goddamnit!"
"But you enjoyed it," Hattori told Paulie in its oh-so-serious-pigeon tone, which always managed to propel Paulie's rage up a couple of extra notches.
"That's beside the point! I- I mean- You fucking bastard! That's the last time I play your games, Lucci, so help me-"
Lucci and Hattori both gave him the look of a guy and a pigeon who'd heard that a number of times before. Paulie gripped the lumber he was carrying so hard he left fingerprints. He had not wanted to have this conversation at work. He'd waited back at Lucci's, but the shipwright hadn’t showed, neither had the mystery man. Paulie hadn't figured out if they'd gotten their jollies over his helpless body last night or if they'd gone off somewhere to have their fun after they'd used him to- and he was trying not to think about it anyway. Trying very hard indeed.
Paulie made a steamed noise and screwed his eyes shut. "Fine. Fine! That is the last time, but in the interest of me not wringing your neck, let's just forget the whole thing."
Lucci immediately went back to what he'd been doing, plunging his pen-knife into the seasoned lumber to test its quality and chalking his estimation on the log heads. Paulie glared at him with eyes like pickled eggs bobbing up and down on the mother of all hangovers.
"So," he finally grumbled. "Who was he?"
"Who was who?" asked Hattori, swivelling its head towards Paulie while Lucci's eyes remained on his work. Four years of this kind of 'conversation' and it could still drive Paulie to bite through his stogie in annoyance.
"Don't give me that! The guy! Last night! Who was he?!"
"You wanted to forget the whole thing."
"Don't play dumb with me!"
"I'm not, Paulie. Unlike you, I never play games I can't win."
"Are you looking for a fight?!" Paulie shouted once he'd figured that out, and then clutched his aching head. "Ugh. Lucci, cut the crap, just tell me who he was."
"Just some guy."
"Just- but- oh god, it was somebody from the shipyard, wasn't it. That's why you're not telling me."
"I didn't say that," said Hattori, swivelling its head to look up at the sky above the secluded lumber yard in a parody of airiness.
"It was. Oh bloody hell...who was it?"
"Why do you want to know? Was he that good?" Hattori asked, cocking its head.
"You sick fuck! Why can't you just tell me?! First off you drag me into a bloody- a bloody sick sandwich-"
"Good morning, Paulie."
The bright, young voice belonged to the very last person Paulie would have wanted to stumble onto this conversation. He ended his sentence in a lip-bitten "mmmwha" that would have done last night's gag proud.
Kaku looked at Paulie's alarmed stance with some puzzlement. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes! Fine! Lucci and I were just talking about- about lunch! Right! Lunch. Which is in three hours. But I can't wait. What did you want?"
"Um, to pick up some lumber," said Kaku, standing innocent and bewildered in the center of a lumber yard.
"Good, good job. I'll leave you to it. See you later!" And Paulie ran like the hounds of hell were after him. He'd deal with Lucci later. Much, much, much later and as far from Galley-la's shipyard and innocent employees as possible.
Both men watched Paulie hare out of the yard. Kaku picked up some rough-hewn poles nearby and glanced at Lucci. His face never lost the wide-eyed, cheerful look that had horrified Paulie just now, but when he spoke the tone was not one that anyone in Galley-la would have recognized. "You're right, that was entertaining too. Of course, we'll have to make a point of eating lunch with him today. Thanks again for sharing."
One burning, slit-eyed look raked him over, though Lucci's expression of indifference never wavered. "The pleasure was mine," Hattori said with a chuckle like a rusty nail. "Be sure to lose your lunchbox before the shift ends."
Kaku looked back of his shoulder quizzically. "What do you mean?"
"If we're eating with Paulie, I'm ordering in enough sandwiches for everybody."
Kaku snorted. "You see, this is why I'm glad we're on the same side. See you two later."
Hattori waved a wing - Lucci didn't interrupt his work - and Kaku followed Paulie out of the lumber yard at a more sedate pace.