may i humbly request more of your AMAZING opinions on bezpeccoluca?
:3
oh my GOODNESS well thank you for asking first of all 😭😭😭!!! where do i even start. i guess we can go with the au i posted a bit from yesterday??
i think i (or we, bc @dumbsketches is complicit in basically all of the concepts always) have been coming at it from the angle of like, luca and pecco are established in like. a relationship way but they're into the #freakshit, because of course they are (everything i have ever thought about re: pecco/luca is shaped almost entirely by astronicht's kinky fridays verse which should be essential mgp fandom reading imo). bez is something adjacent to a free agent but he's like an excited dog at a party like he HAS to check everyone's situation out. like what's this group over here doing give me pets okay now i go over HERE what's THIS etc etc. so i think he ends up in a lot of people's beds? at least the people who he's reasonably close to, which as it turns out is a lot of people! so it's only natural that he pops over to guest in the peccoluca marriage bed or whatever. why not
it's important to note that i do not think their tastes align at least not initially. pecco's got some #repression going on that he's pried open with luca but having your bff (bezfriendforever) crawl into bed with you and your bf (bucafarini) and see you at your most fragile/vulnerable/honest is a very scary thing? and luca is or can be very very intense and bez is sort of like :')???? trying to figure out the dynamic on the fly. like yes let's have a fun threesome! and then the threesome wraps up with you crying bc your ass hurts and your bestie won't look you in the eye and luca is awkwardly-at-best patting you on the back and you have to go home feeling like you have Failed
(there's a side (main, to me) story to this, where extremely-monogamous celestino is like. the closest thing to a main partner bez has? and that's who bez goes to after this sesh and pretty much any subsequent sesh and cele hates it in certain... ways. but he loves marco so. yes. this is not the question you have asked but it's important To Me)
anyway. the first time is a bad time but then they try again, now with a bit clearer of a picture of what it is they all want out of this? and it goes way better. this leads to transcendent belting. mama mia!
this is like, one very specific au for sure? but i've done a lot of direct-to-dm writing for it and bee at least seems to like it so i will include a couple of screenshots under the cut!
this ^ being the after the first very-bad-no-good-scene
this ^ being the transcendent belting
i hope this is ANYTHING at all!!! i am full of thoughts feelings notions and also an abundant lack of self-control when it comes to writing just whatever is being spoken about so there is just. so much of this both in the dms and the docs
He drank too much. That's usually how it starts, and how it ends too, every time something happens.
Enea can feel the stickiness of alcohol mixed with sweat against his bare chest, exposed from his open shirt, loud reggaeton reverbering in his head. And, dangerous as a crack on the floor, his eyes on him. Burning.
Enea basks in it, knowing he's being watched. Maybe he wouldn't, if he was more sober, but he isn't , and what's the point of pondering on ifs and buts? He instead reaches down to open more buttons of his shirt, down to his navel, moving his body to follow the music.
Somebody, a girl he thinks, caresses his arm, slender fingers tracing his muscles.
Blood and adrenaline pump in his ears. He closes his eyes, strangers' hands touching him, grabbing him, pushing against him, until a tug on his wrist brings him back on earth.
In front of him, Diggia, eyes as big as tea plates, dark. Enea smiles big, loopy, at the sight.
"Bestia," he says, "fancy seeing you here" and Enea doesn't know if it truly is random or if maybe it's fate or something else entirely, the two of them being there, but the truth is that he doesn't care as long as he can feel the heat of Diggia's body against his.
He stares at the cupid bow of his lips, the tendons of his neck, the hint of pecks from the open shirt, and Enea presses a finger on that sliver of naked skin, littered with moles.
He wants to bite it.
He stares in Diggia's eyes, dragging his finger down, down, down, until it gets stuck against a button, his own breath heavy, louder than the music. Diggia grabs him by the wrist again, and uncerimoniously drags him to the bathroom.
As soon as the door closes behind them, Enea jumps on his lips, mouth open, pushing him against the sink, the wall, a stall, chasing. Diggia pushes back, as he always does biting at his lips, tugging at his hair, finding an open stall and pushing him inside, and then again against the closed door.
Enea can feel Diggia's hard dick agianst his hips, from under his jeans, making hot arousal run along his spine.
They both stumble in the attempt of opening their trousers in between the kisses, sloppy and open mouthed, and as soon as Enea succedes he drags them down and turns around, ass against Diggia's crotch, as some sort of automatims.
Diggia slaps his ass, and Enea moans. He hears the metallic clang of something falling on the floor, some rustling, and then "Fuck, I don't have anything."
The words swirl around in Enea's head, blended by the alcohol and lack of blood.
"What?"
"Fuck..."
"Ok. Ok." pants Diggia in his ear. "Close your legs."
Enea doesn't know where Diggia is going with this, but he feels too dumb to question him, mind singlehandedly focused on his release. So he follows his instructions, pushing his legs together, his ass sticking out to balance himself out.
"Madonna santissima" he hears coming from behind him, followed by the wet sound of spit and then the rhythmic sound of a hand stroking a dick.
Enea tries to look over his shoulder, desperation growing low in his stomach. "Do something, come on. Or I'm leaving." he's not going to, of course he isn't. He doesn't have the willpower to do it. But he know it'll work to speed things up. It always does.
Diggia whines at his words, "yes, yes, don't go" he says, panting, grabbing him by the hips so hard it'll certainly leave a bruise, and Enea loves it, loves to see the marks the day after, to push his fingers into the yellow and blue and purple skin while he strokes himself, thinking back about what they did, even if he shouldn't.
Diggia pushes them hip against hip, moving slowly, rubbing his dick in between his cheeks, achingly close to where he wants him. When Diggia's head catches his rim, a shiver runs through Enea, who pushes his ass back, trying to get Diggia somehow closer. But Diggia moves away, and Enea whines, before feeling a push between his legs, something hot and hard getting in between his thighs.
A low, dragged out "Fuuuuck" comes from behind him, before Diggia thightens his grip on Enea's hips and starts to move, agonisingly slow. At every trust, every drag, Diggia's cock rubs against his balls, making him see the starts.
"Keep, ah, thight" he says, and Enea closes his eyes and squeezes his legs together, dragging out whatever this is, sweet torture for both of them.
The sound of squelching friction is almost obscene, only muffled by the music coming from outside the bathroom.
"It's almost as thight as - ah - inside you"
Enea can feel the knot in his stomach thightening at these words, his dick starting to leak precum.
"And if you really were inside me?"
"I'd fuck you so good you'd never want anyone else, just me" and Enea moans, biting his lips to not let out the fact he already doesn't, half delirious with desire, "and then" he pants, "I'd come inside you to let everyone know that you're mine, dripping with my cum"
Enea starts stroking himself after those words, following the ragged breath coming from behind him, the fast thrusts of Diggia behind him.
"Yours" leaves his lips, traitorous, feverish, delirious, his release so close he can taste it on the tip of his tongue.
Diggia's increase his rhythm, his dick slipping out from how wet it is, dragging between his asscheeks before Diggia pushes between his thighs again.
Enea moans, helpless, while Diggia mouths at his nape, mine, mine, mine, his own hand on his dick faltering, substituted by a bigger one. Enea sees white, and comes, arms suddenly too weak to keep him up, collapsing against the dirty door of the bathroom stall.
Diggia comes too, painting the inside of his legs white, crushing him further against the door.
He reaches down, trying to get his jeans up, blind in the mess of limbs him and Diggia make, fastening his belt the best he can. Diggia does the same, cleaning his hands in his boxers. Enea stumbles out of the cubicle, followed by the other man, misjudging the distance and hitting the sink.
Diggia places one his hands on Enea's naked skin, on his belly, low on his bellybutton. "Bye", he says, Enea thinks, but the only thing he can make from the drunk soup of his brain is mine, mine mine.
the core about them is i think that they both think the other doesn't deserve them BECAUSE THEY'RE IDIOTS. Cele is in a "i always admired marzia so much" way, she was one of the only other girls like her and she always always looked up to her. So she doesn't think bez would ever want her because of how awesome she is (and also because she looked about twelve until she was fifteen. never forget what not going thru puberty before the start of highschool can do to a girl). Marzia instead does it in a self deprecating way because she never learned to love openly that part of herself (i.e. being a lesbian). She feels inadeguate. she is scared of the word lesbian for fuck's sake. She wishes she was more palatable (never forget what going thru puberty too early can do to a girl). they're too scared to do anything because they dont want to ruin whatever they have.
i honestly dont know how the fuck they would get together. maybe marzia gets more confortable in being herself and they naturally progress to the point where one day the look at each other while cooking dinner in their newly shared apartment and think. fuck. we're together.
sì comunque diofa potevano fare più tempo a Cele eh
Guarda il mio odio per ktm triplicato ormai. Soprattutto perché è chiaro ormai che si aspettassero un altro Pedro acosta ma nel senso. Lo avete firmato voi Cele avete visto come è andato l'anno scorso non è un mistero!! Io boh. Basita incredula
ogni volta che iniziamo un discorso sui diggianini nei tag si trasforma in una fic a se stante ahhahahahha
sono semplicemente talmente uno stereotipo italiano degli amici omofobi ma gay che la testa mi esplode
Loro sono così perfetti si prestano così bene al creare scenari al limite dell'assurdo per la comune mente umana (ma non per loro, per loro è solo un altro giovedì)
