REPUTATION - explicit, nacho/domingo/lalo, voyeurism, threesomes
[1226 words]
Nacho's on him as soon as the last dealer drives off.
He marches over to Domingo's table, who is already standing in apprehension. He knew he messed up when he dropped a stack of bills he was counting in front of a dealer. He was nervous; weak. "What was that?" He growls in Domingo's ear, pushing him against the table, "Do you think they're going to be scared if you're as nervous as they are? Grow up or get out."
Domingo's lips tremble. He looks up at Nacho with his signature conejito expression.
"I... but..." He stammers, although his fear is mostly put on. He wants to rile Nacho up, after all. Get him annoyed. Get him angry.
Domingo continues, "I was trying my hardest, I... s-swear..." Tears well in his eyes, and Nacho can't tell if they're real or not.
"You crybaby." Nacho grits his teeth and leans forward, trapping Domingo's hips against the hot wood of the table. "I didn't fight for you to get to this position just for you to ruin our reputation."
_"Our" reputation?_ Domingo thinks, his mind wandering to all the time Nacho and Lalo spend together. Is Nacho a Salamanca now? The idea should probably concern him. It doesn't.
"At least I chose to join the cartel..." Domingo mutters, barely audible but loud enough to get the point across. He chooses his next words carefully. "You're only here because daddy needs your protection."
He glances up at Nacho and the fury in his eyes brings on real fear this time. Panic fills his brain as he scrambles to undo what he said.
"W-wait, no! Nacho, I swear... I didn't mean it! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..." He blurts out, real tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. A year ago he wouldn't be so scared. A year ago Nacho would've played along. But this isn't a year ago, and he definitely isn't playing now.
Domingo feels his friend's strong hands, flat against his back, flip him around effortlessly so that he's squashed uncomfortably between Nacho and the table, hardening cock trapped.
"You're so useless!" Nacho growls, his voice twisted with rage. "You're so pathetic, aren't you?" He pulls Domingo's trousers and boxers down together, moving the fabric so his ass is exposed.
"Weak, pathetic crybaby." Nacho's hand hits Domingo's ass with a crack, making him yelp.
Domingo whimpers and wriggles in his degrading position, his face flat against the table. He's fully aware of the open blinds. Although it's dark both inside and out, someone could still see in if they tried hard enough. Yet another thing that should worry him that doesn't.
Another slap brings him out of his thinking. "Nacho... I'm sorry..." He immediately starts to apologise. "Please, anything but this..."
To his surprise, Nacho pauses. "Anything but this?" His voice still has the low tilt of anger to it, but there's a shimmer of excitement now too. One that Domingo doesn't like the sound of.
Nacho's hands are off him once again, and he can hear the sounds of a zipper being undone and fabric being moved. Then, Nacho's hard cock at his entrance.
"You don't need any prep, do you?" Nacho taunts. "I think you've proved you don't deserve any, anyway." He spits on his hand and slicks up his cock before slowly, gently, pressing into Domingo.
Domingo yells and his struggle increases. "Nacho... please! Get off me!" Tears are dripping down his nose and pooling on the table. "I don't want this..."
Nacho scoffs. "Don't lie to me." Once again, Domingo feels himself being turned over by Nacho. Only this time, he feels a hand settle on his own cock. "Of course you want this. You wouldn't be so hard otherwise, would you?"
Gently, Nacho brushes his fingers over the tip, just enough to make Domingo whine and buck his hips.
"See?" Nacho's voice is low and dangerous again. "You're a liar. And I don't trust liars." He lines himself up and continues pushing in, his slightly wet cock facing resistance from Domingo's tight entrance.
"Please!" Domingo blubbers. "Stop! It hurts... I'm sorry..." He whines, looking even more pathetic than usual with how wet his face is.
Nacho groans in frustration. "Shut up, Mingo!"
Still, he continues to whimper, crying and begging as his best friend and fuckbuddy violates him.
"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Nacho's hand connects with Domingo's face hard enough to make him quiet down and swallow blood. Somehow, Domingo being completely still and quiet pisses him off more than when he was crying. At least then it felt like fucking someone in the same room as him.
With a roll of anger and frustration, Nacho slams his hips forward, bottoming out into the crying mess underneath him. Domingo cries out and, even if just for something to get mad about, Nacho hits him. And again. And again.
Domingo is quiet again, his left cheek bruised and bleeding from where Nacho's cross bracelet caught it. All the while, he's still getting fucked dry at a relentless pace.
Just as Nacho brings up his hand to hit Domingo again, a voice from behind interrupts him.
"Ayy, Nachito, you're not trying to kill the puta, are you?"
Nacho freezes and looks over his shoulder to see Lalo sat on a chair not far behind him; feet on a table and Modelo in hand.
"Lalo..." Nacho greets him nervously and pulls out. "How long have you been there?"
Lalo laughs uproariously and sips his beer. "Long enough, Nachito... long enough."
Domingo stirs underneath Nacho. His ass is on fire with pain and his face is numb. "Don Eduawdo?" He lisps, cheek and tongue still swollen. "What?" He glances at Nacho, but he seems just as confused and scared as Domingo is.
"Now..." Lalo starts, swinging his feet off the table and on to the floor. "Why did you stop, Nachito? Just when you were giving me a good show!" He tuts mockingly and strides over to the two men. "What did he even do so wrong, anyway?"
Nacho stumbles for an answer. "He... he dropped money... in front of a dealer? Lalo-... Don."
The way Lalo stares at him in response send shivers crawling down his spine. He opens his mouth to speak and Nacho braches himself, but the words are aimed at Domingo. "Are you fucking stupid?" It's a question, but he doesn't feel much inclined to answer. "Are you trying to ruin our reputation?"
Domingo shakes his head hurriedly. "No, Don." He's still resting awkwardly on the table, his legs loosely hugging Nacho's.
"I agree with Nachito; you need a punishment." Lalo stalks closer towards Domingo's head. Not breaking eye contact, he removes his slacks and boxers, leaving his thick cock exposed.
Domingo's eyes widen staring at it. "Wait, Don... I'm sorry, please don't- I didn't mean to, it won't happen again, I swear..."
Lalo just scoffs and steps one foot over the table, leaving him straddling Domingo's face. "Are you going to start again?" He's looking at Domingo, but the words are for Nacho.
"Yes Don..." Nacho mumbles, re-slicking his cock. He's not angry anymore, not like he was earlier. Now he's just confused, and maybe a little aroused?
"As for you, Molina..." Lalo grins, his expression as sadistic as when he kills. "Can you open wide?"
