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    Summary

    A journey of Prosciutto and Mista's relationship during their time together in La Squadra, written in love, lies, leather, and a longing for something both of them can't quite reach.

    ----
    Somehow, Mista was here again. Stretched. Asleep. Prosciutto’s suit jacket draped over his body, legs tucked up tightly.

    But somehow, he liked it. Prosciutto liked what they’d made.

    What he’d made.

    He remembered the reverence in Mista’s eyes when he opened the door; when he touched him; when he let Mista touch him. Dangling his acceptance like a leash he pulled, the begging on the tip of his tongue, a whine, a whimper; a mist on his eyes he shed, wetting his lashes as it became too much, too much, until he almost burst-

    No-one else saw them, but Prosciutto’s prints marred him. From top, to toe. Maybe, some could see. If they looked close enough. Underneath. Where you shouldn’t.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    15,001
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    19
    Kudos:
    44
    Bookmarks:
    8
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    783