Work Text:
He'd turned up in the early hours of the morning, dripping wet. A drowned rat seeking refuge in the only place - person - he knew would be safe. Giovanna hadn't said a word, just opened the door wider and allowed him to drag his feet across the threshold. They had stayed in silence as she offered him a towel and went in search of dry clothes that would fit him. She found some shirts of his, folded, forgotten, in the bottom drawer of her dresser from the last time he had visited.
"So," She started, as she sat on the sofa beside him, feeling a little more awkward than she ought to - considering he'd shown up on her doorstep. "Did you swim all the way here? Not that I'm not flattered, but there are easier modes of transportation,"
Illario looked at her, towel paused in drying his hair. A look that made it feel like he was peeling away any and all of her layers to really get a look at the core of the person inside. Staring, unblinking, unravelling. Unsettling. It would, perhaps, have been easier - simpler - to grab his hand and drag him up the stairs to her bedroom. Treat the visit like old times, before the blight, before the gods, before the false deaths of his grandmother and cousin.
"I just…" He sighed, head dropping into his hands. "I needed to get out of Treviso,"
She reached out, then pulled her hand back, hesitating for only a second before laying it between his shoulder blades. He stiffened, but relaxed almost immediately, looking to her again, searching. She wanted to press, maybe even make a joke, but something stayed her tongue. Instead she slid her hand up and over his shoulder to cradle the side of his head as she pressed a kiss to the opposite temple.
"Okay,"
It wasn't the full explanation, he was keeping something to himself. They'd known each other long enough now that she could read it in his eyes. But it was all she needed for now.
He started. "That's it?"
"That's it." She nodded.
"No suspicion? No questioning of motives?"
"No," She shook her head.
Illario hummed, low, considering, disbelieving. A frown pulled at his mouth.
"Was the plea I made to your cousin, in front of Crows from all houses, in front of your grandmother, in front of Viago, not enough?"
"You still want me here? After all I did?"
"I might not agree with what you did… But…" She sighed, before smirking. "As much as I might think what you did was stupid, I do - unfortunately," She kissed the furrow between his brows. "Not mind your company,"
The furrow remained, but his frown softened. She traced his cheekbone, then the line of his jaw with the tips of her fingers, as she slid her hand down to his neck. She peppered every available plane of his face with kisses until he turned to face her fully. She stopped, pulled back slightly.
"I- -"
Giovanna didn't have time to form a sentence before her was upon her. Hands cradling her face, lips pressed to hers, a bruising force that coming from him was somehow comforting.
Normal, back to normal. Back to before.
Maybe she should drag him upstairs.
Her fingers slid into his hair, still wet, and tugged. He pulled back with a gasp. His expression, reluctant with a touch of petulance at not being able to just have what he wanted, made a grin spread across her mouth.
And so, she allowed him go back to work, this time at her neck. He's nipping and sucking, laving at her throat in the ways he knows she likes.
Like nothing ever happened.
He moved down further, pressing her into the cushions, working his way over her collarbone, sternum.
But it did all happen.
She tried to suppress her moan as one hand left her face and glanced over a breast.
He really could have died.
His mouth moved back up to her neck, the underside of her jaw. She tightened her hold in his hair, her nails biting into his scalp.
This was good. Familiar.
If Lucanis wasn't the person he is…
She pulled him up, away from her neck, dragged his mouth to hers. It's less of a kiss and more of a claiming bite, not that he seems to mind.
Caterina would have executed him, on the spot.
She tried to push the thought away as his hand slipped into her shirt. Eagerly cupping her breast, expertly pinching a nipple. She gasped, breaking their kiss, head tipping back. By the time she opens her eyes - it can't have been more than seconds - he had already raised himself over her, balancing his weight on one arm, the other still in use doing delightful things under the fabric of her shirt.
"How do you want me, amore?"
And he grins, that seducers grin, that carefully calculated movement of facial muscles that charms the marks into his bed. She knows it well, has worn it herself. Has let herself succumb to it on lesser days than this one.
He could have died.
Today is not one of those days.
Giovanna put her hands on his shoulders.
"Stop."
To his credit, Illario does still, instantly. But he doesn't pull away, doesn't give her the distance she is actually requesting. So she pushes him until he gets it. His hand comes away from her, he sits up, and allows her up in turn. She puts a little distance between them, not much but enough to hopefully indicate this is a conversation she wants to have. Not just an opportunity for him to distract her.
"I'm sorry," He makes to stand, but Giovanna grabs his hand. "I shouldn't have come,"
"Why did you come here?" She kept tight hold of him.
"I already told you, I needed to get away from Treviso,"
"But why here?"
Why me?
She knows why. Realistically, she knows. They always gravitate towards each other, have done from that very first meeting. She's a safe bet, she won't hurt him, doesn't look down on him. They understand each other.
"I should go. Thank you for the towel, and the dry clothes. I… Thank you for not slamming the door right in my face,"
Illario tried to get up again but Giovanna kept her hold firm.
"Stop it. I never said I wanted you to leave. You're welcome to stay," She forced a smirk. "And I guess you're better company than most, one might even say I like you,"
"You like me?"
"Yes,"
"Really?"
"No. I just thought your execution would be a terrible waste of good sex." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Illario, why does that seem like such a foreign idea to you?"
He frowned, looking away from her, but the hand she was keeping such a tight hold of drifted to her thigh.
"You know, you are one of very few people I would actually believe those words from,"
"That your death would be a waste of good cock?"
"That you like me,"
"What?…"
"People don't like who I actually am. They like the specially curated version of me I sell to the public. The seducer, the charmer. Pretty boy, shallow - -"
"You're not…"
"Let me finish!" He doesn't shout, but his words are gritted, frustrated. Like if he doesn't get out what he's saying he'll never feel safe enough to say it again. "People like Lucanis for Lucanis, not just for what they think they can get out of him. People like Teia for the same reason. They see them for who they are. They see me for what I am, not who. What. Not a person. A thing. My own grandmother treated me like that. You've never… You've never been like that."
She stared at him, he still wouldn't meet her eyes.
"Sure, we've had our fair share of trysts,"
"Fallen into bed together and fucked like we meant it, you mean?"
He smirked, loosing a weak chuckle, and finally looked up at her.
"Yes. That's exactly what I mean,"
"Look, Illario, I…" Her words seemed to abandon her. "I like you. A lot. And I like to think I've made that clear."
He pulled a face, and she glared at him.
"I am trying to be sincere, you asshole,"
"Sorry,"
She shot him another glare before continuing. "I like you more than just a… A…"
"Quick roll in the sheets?"
"Yes. More than that."
"Hm."
They fell into silence. An awkward, uncomfortable, long silence. Giovanna felt a pang of regret. She'd made an admission that had been sitting on the tip of her tongue for so long - albeit not in the most elegant way she could have - and he was just sitting there. Looking at her. Like her head was on upside down. Like she had just told him that the floor was made of clouds and the ceiling grass.
"Will you please just say something!"
Her face heated. It's not like she had loads of experience with this. Seduction, yes, fine, easy. Feelings that progressed beyond the bedroom? A little less so.
"Illario."
"Okay," He nodded.
Simple. Easy. Accepted.
"What?!"
"I said: okay,"
"Just like that?"
"What did you think I was going to do? Reject you and leave? I came all the way from Treviso to Salle, to see you. I didn't just come for a holiday. This is the first time I've gotten away from my cousin and that city and my first thoughts were of you,"
"I…"
"You make the voices in my head that tell me I'm not good enough go quiet." He nodded. "So if you want this to move beyond the doors we constantly lock ourselves behind, I would like to see where that takes us,"
"You would?"
"If that's alright with you," He smiled.
"Nothing has ever sounded better," She grinned.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Giovanna shrieked.
"Me?!" Illario countered. "What is wrong with you?! You abandon me here, leave me with no instructions, and I'm just trying to do my Maker damned best while you just lounge around. And now you're yelling at me?!"
"I told you exactly what to do!" She stormed across the deck, seizing the ropes from him. "You had to tie this one here," She secured the knot. "And this one here." She secured the other knot. "Otherwise we're going to be tossed all over the bay!"
"You just handed me the rope and told me to tie them up! Specifics might have been nice!" He pouted, stepping away from the sail as she moved it so quickly it nearly hit him in the back.
"Watch where you're stepping!"
"You're trying to kill me!"
"I didn't mean forwards!"
"What?"
Too late. He took one step backward too many caught his foot on the rail and tumbled backwards before he could right himself. He landed with a resounding splash and a flailing of limbs that had Giovanna laughing so hard she had to crawl over to the railing to peer over and check he was okay.
He pulled himself back up onto the boat muttering curses under his breath while she was still laughing, hard, arms wrapped around her middle.
"It wasn't that funny." He pulled his shirt over his head, wringing it out before tossing it aside with a wet splat.
"The great Illario Dellamorte, bested by a metal railing he was warned about. Twice."
"Shut up." His shorts followed his shirt, he hesitated for a moment.
"If you throw them at me I'll toss you of the boat myself,"
She'd do it, he knew it, and threw the shorts to join his shirt.
"If you lay them out properly they'll be dry in - -"
Illario took two strides forward, hauled her to her feet, and cut her instructions off with a kiss. His lips crashed to hers, seeking, searching. She yielded for him easily, she felt his grin and met it with her own.
This was nice, perhaps she could even get used to it.