Bared teeth pinch and tug the skin of Hasan’s stubbled jaw and neck. His hands slip back around his hips, creeping up his torso and chest. A soft, displeased noise gurgles in the back of his throat when he pulls away to look at him, deep brown eyes glossy and warm. The leader searches his face, watching, no, waiting for signs of purposeful deception but watery blue don’t even flicker with anything close to it nor do his words draw together in discernable white lies. ‘I didn’t want to make your life complicated’ — the model’s honesty disarms his doubt and anger in own foul swoop, leaving inside of him a hollowness where his own honesty lies. Respect. Vincente rarely got it without manipulation or force. The people under his command were scared of him and scared of each other so he preyed on it to keep them in line; to keep them from turning against him. Everyone in his circle had ulterior motives — they wanted to impress him, gain his trust, prove that they were worthy to walk on the same ground as him. Some wanted his trust, others wanted his throne. But Hasan? It seemed that he didn’t want anything from him, except for maybe one impossibility that seemed to linger between them even still. Out of respect for him, not in spite of him, Hasan had kept his distance. Just like he’d asked him at the gala. The entirety of his face softens down back into himself, his eyes fond and warm on the man standing so close to him. “I don’t care if you’re busy,” The man whispers, guiding him back toward the door to cage him in. “— don’t care if Mateo is asleep in your bed right now.” Another whisper, this time with a hint of bitterness. “You’re mine.” It’s a statement, not a negotiation, said with enough possession that it bordered on scary.
“Tonight. Tomorrow night. The Next.” Vincente presses into him completely, feeling the man’s chest move as he breathes. He cups the side of his neck, kissing him hotly yet with enough softness to give Hasan room to protest. A smirk curls on his lips — under his fingers, he could feel the slight spike of his heart rate. “Got it, Príncipe?”
Honesty and serious an interesting combination with the younger male. Hasan to many was not known for his seriousness but he was however and honest man. Few people saw this side of him, Hasan being serious and mature. It was the truth, his words honest and deep. When he spoke it carried weight for sure. He never wanted to complicated Vincente, he wanted to truly give the other space. Plus, maybe on some level Hasan was so very scared of the conversation if he had picked up the phone. He did write messages that he never sent. He did not know what to say, he did not want to make it wrong at all. He was glad this man was standing in front of him, he came to his door and maybe too he wanted Vincente to come find him, to track him down or Hasan was being petty too. He was also known for that too.
Hearing the male speak caused a reaction inside the model and business man. His heart beat faster and faster. He stared into those eyes as he held the male's shirt and then the kiss made his mind go blank. It took just a second and his own body responded and he kissed the male back. Feelings and desire, showing he had missed the other. His kiss giving away that he had missed them. Hasan honestly really did not care if Vincente was his brother's boss, or his brother's boyfriend boyfriend. He just cared about this man and just saw him as someone who understood a part of him and half of his heart wanted him.
"Tan exigente," he whispered softly as he nodded his head. His hands finding the other's hands. "I will not be able to control myself," he spoke as he pulled the other in and also making sure the food was in before closing the door and kissing Vincente again.

















