" you do it to yourself , just you . . . @vityacristo - Tumblr Blog

Jun 4

Montya || Reunion Pt. 2

Who: @montyprescottjoie & @vityacristo Where: Monty's Apartment When: Winter, Early 2026 What: Monty Prescott & Vitya Cristo unexpectedly reunite after 4 years apart, continued… Part 1: Here

Monty —

Each time their knees bumped together, Monty's eyes flicked for a millisecond to the back of Boris's head.

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by any touch or intimacy; it was a long time since Monty had been in the closet, after all, but he wasn't sure if he could trust the man.

Being out and proud in America, in New York City, of all places, was one thing, but he was quite sure it wasn't so simple in Russia.

Where did Boris's loyalty lie, who did he ultimately answer to... was it his charge, the man he ferried around each day... or was it his boss... the man whose money lined his pockets?

Would there be a phone call to Russia the moment the two exited the vehicle, detailing every Monty move made in the back seat... followed by threats, thinly veiled or otherwise, from a man who'd once vowed to do no harm. Let's pretend the hippocratic oath exists in Russia so I can enjoy the dramatics of Monty's thought process here.

Monty hesitated for just a moment at the end, giving in to the warmth and weight of Vitya's once-constantly cold hand(s) on top of his, as natural as breathing, before turning his palm up and lacing his fingers together with Vitya's.

"I'm doin' this because I want to. I gave up doin' things I don't want ta do a long time ago. See, I reckon the universe has shit on me long enough tha' I'm walkin' away the second it tries ta fuck with me. I spent four years without ya, longer without ya than with ya, but I still know eveMonty one of those days we were together was better than eveMonty-damn-one combined without ya. So no, I ain't lettin' ya go again. I ain't goin' back inside, an' I ain't givin' up this project!" He took a deep breath, "We made it outta the lab by the skin of our teeth, without too many questions, I ain't wastin' that."

Being able to walk out of the lab without being cornered by the entire administrative team had done a lot to curb the growing anxiety that had been threatening to drag him underwater, but Vitya being at the loading dock entrance just as he promised had renewed his fire.

Once they arrived at Monty's third-floor walk-up, he wasn't exactly embarrassed per se, but he was acutely aware that the only person who'd been inside, apart from the building's super, was his PO. The apartment was small, and all the furniture was well-used. It was, however, clean, despite almost every surface being obscured by books, journals, magazines, and manuals on physics and medicine. Some were brand new with vibrant images and diagrams, while others were leather-bound with yellowing pages that most certainly should never have left the university library.

"This is it..." Monty awkwardly gestured around the place that had become his sanctuary over the past 6 months since being released.

Monty —

Hearing Monty's assurance that yes, this is what he wanted, and no, he wasn't changing his mind, was acting more like adding weight to this balancing act of emotions than a calming sentiment. It made things more intense, like there was an expectation he had to meet, knowing that Monty wanted him back in his life. So much riding on him, responsibilities to attend, and his eyes were laser-focused on Monty and his needs.

He followed silently as they made it to his place, a small apartment in a more crowded part of town. Boris left to park the car safely for the time being, leaving them to their privacy. As he stepped into Monty's apartment, he looked around with sad familiarity. The sprawl, the organized chaos, and yet he didn't see mess. He saw Monty, his intelligence unconfined, even in his living space. He huffed out a laugh. "It's like you're mid-thought, always." He said, softly and carefully as he stepped deeper in.

Vitya shrugged his suit jacket off, the broad muscled tone of his body carrying the dress shirt more than wearing it, tossing it over his arm and turning to see the whole room, how it connected deeper into the apartment. "How much is it a month? Ah- Not to compare!" He emphasized. "Just- You have that new mayor, you know? The one who checks the rent? I am just-" He stopped and turned to face Monty, realizing he was overstepping, maybe even invading whatever Monty was setting up here. He was being let back in; he had to act like it. "I am just looking out for you." He finished carefully.

Vitya looked around, finding one clear spot to set his jacket, hands sinking into his pockets, waiting for... permission. To move, to sit, to do more than touch. Monty wanted him here, but to talk or fuck? Vitya wanted both, maybe at the same time, but not when he carried the tension of his on his shoulders. He had one chance to fix what he broke, eveMonty step needed to be checked and double checked before he took it.

"I want to be honest with you, as honest as I can. I've... been with others. Since we've been apart. No real relationships, but in bed with others. I know you wanted me to spend the night with you, and I do want to, but I won't let you invite me in without... without knowing all of the ugly I've brought along." He said, head angled down so as not to look at Monty as he confessed. "Please say you have too, I'd feel better the bigger the number." He said, borderline pleading at the end as his hand awkwardly came to rub the back of his neck.

Monty —

"Yeah, crazy like me, right?" Monty rolled his eyes sarcastically, playfully even, at Vitya for the comment on the state of his apartment, and yet, still, he self-consciously began picking up books and papers seemingly at random and stacking them into more condensed piles rather than spread out. Maybe it was self-consciousness of his mess, but he'd never felt like that with Vitya, even from that very first hook-up; he was never embarrassed. More likely, it was a sign of the remaining rubble of his walls trying to close a door that had been reduced to dust, and protect him from pain when there was nowhere left to hide.

Monty felt a little more relaxed when Vitya removed his jacket; he was starting to look more like his Vitya. The costume of the son and heir was being peeled off even just a little, and that allowed Monty to get out of his own head, to stop focusing so much on work, contracts, and finances; the parts of his profession that he hated.

“Place is rent-controlled, bought the key off a guy at my PO’s office.” Monty shrugged, feeling awkward discussing finances now that Vitya seemed to have all of the perks of his position in the family. It was different when they had been splurging with the near-unlimited card that had been stolen from Vitya’s father; they’d earned that together on their trip to Russia, but this time Vitya’d had to sell his soul to get all these ‘perks’.

In response to Vitya's searching look, Monty removed his own jacket and grabbed Vitya’s, taking them to the closet to hang on hooks on the back of the doors as he listened to Vitya’s willingness to share his sexual history from while they’d been apart.

Monty took a deep breath as his skin began to itch.

He continued removing layers of his own costume; first went the tie he despised, shoved into the pocket of his blazer. Next, the dress shoes were kicked unceremoniously into the back of the closet. The two top buttons of his shirt and the cuffs at his wrists were yanked open with a ferocity that nearly had them popping right off. He ran his hand through his mussed hair, pulling on the ends in an effort to distract himself from the picture of Vitya with other people now trying to take over his mind, trying not to let the bubbling jealousy overflow.

“Found me a dive bar when I moved up ‘ere, was closed by the time I got out so not much ta’ say there…” He took a deep breath, “...an’ it ain’t exac’ly safe ta go stickin’ ya dick too many places in the joint... Showin’ ya too eager gets ya in a lotta trouble, but actin’ like ya better than ‘em is just as bad. Had a couple young fish I watched out for but nothin’ real.”

Monty sat down on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees and head in his hands. Not able to look at Vitya while he voiced his deepest fear. There was a question he needed to know the answer to before he could let himself get in too deep, before he lost the nerve and allowed himself to be too distracted, and so he asked with a thick voice, the one that told of forcing back tears...

“If we hadn’t met today- if this didn’t happen- were ya ever gonna come find me, tell me ya were back?”

Vitya —

"Not crazy to me," Vitya said gently, whistfully, as his eyes traced over the places Monty tried to fix. He didn't mind the mess, preferred it even. His place was so bare and boring, nothing to really claim it as his. Monty dominated this space; every inch screamed he owned it. Vitya felt at ease in this chaos like he hadn't in years.

"Well, that's… good," Vitya said, letting his jacket get taken. Awkwardness. The unsaid making space. Vitya could feel it, tension hot and heavy. His bursting confession squeezed one out of Monty, and now both could rest easy knowing purity wasn't a problem. That was a good thing, so why did it feel as if Vitya said such a thing, Monty would snap like a twig? He was wound tight, either from hearing or sharing. Vitya couldn't tell which. They both fucked others. That had to be that, for now.

With his coat out of reach, he couldn't run without leaving something behind. And Monty already took his shoes off; he wasn't running either. Vitya followed like a dog to Monty's bed, standing six feet in front of the man. Vitya was taken aback again, seeing Monty nearly collapse onto it. His fingers twitched to reach out, but how could he? He chose patience instead, waiting to do anything Monty wanted, just like he promised.

Those six feet suddenly felt like eons, entire oceans, at the question. There was another one, a worse one, being 'Did you look at all?', and Vitya felt compelled to answer everything at once. His jaw opened, then closed. First reaction was to say 'Yes!' but that wasn't the truth. He had no inclination to go looking again at all until Monty walked in that door. His mouth opened a second time, more ugly truths being torn from inside him. "I tried, first chance I got." He started, burying his hands in his pockets. "The problem is, that chance took three years."

"I went back to Joie, of course, but by then the entire student body had been replaced with a whole new wave. No one knew you, no one had seen you. I figured any lead I had was three years cold." Vitya said, eyes diverting away now. "Had nowhere else to look after that, that damn school was our only connection. The one choice I had was to move on and... go where I was told." Vitya motions out the window, as if a simple gesture could summarize all of New York City.

Vitya's eyes came up then, taking in Monty's handsome face, to test his right to do so at all. With careful steps, he closed what space was between them till it didn't exist. Vitya sat down next to Monty on the bed, now only an inch between them, even closer than in the car. "But I'm back now. And by some cosmic intervention, we've crashed together again..."

In a stomach-dropping leap of faith, Vitya's shaking hand came up to Monty's face, tucking some of that perfect, dark hair behind his ear as Monty hid his face in his hands. Endearment, a move so soft it gave away how much Vitya felt like he was going to explode with affection. Yet, he waited for permission to touch any more, say any more. With his eyes he begged, 'Anything,' but out of his mouth was something else.

"...I am happy to see you again."

Monty —

Monty may not have been truly ashamed of his apartment, his space, but he was feeling that now that Vitya was looking right at him. EveMonty inch of his body that Vitya's eyes touched felt like an open wound; he could barely fight the urge to get up and grab sweaters and coats and wrap himself up as if the physical barrier could somehow protect him from Vitya's gaze. It was almost a relief when his beautiful eyes diverted as he admitted he'd looked no further than their shared alma mater.

"Ya know, the universe is gettin' a helluva lot of credit 'ere." Monty snorted softly. "So fuckin' many things coulda gone wrong in this so-called plan the stars had… I wouldna bet on me makin’ parole after only 3 year on a 5 bill.” An entirely humorless laugh. “Me gettin’ this job? Only a mad man would’da expected any lab ta take on someone with my record, never mind actually bein’ a project I-” Monty stopped short, so close to saying too much. He wasn’t ready to open up quite that much to Vitya; it was too intimate, made him too vulnerable. Maybe later…

….Later, oh what a concept, what a joyful idea, what an insane idea, what a ludicrous outlandish exciting brilliant luxury he hadn’t had in such a long time. Was there going to be a later... Was later something he was going to have with Vit… Was it something he was allowed to have for himself?

A tiny spark of hope lit deep in his chest.

For now, it was the small flicker of a flame down at the bottom of a deep, dark pit that had been devoid of light for what felt like a lifetime... The evidence of that lifetime was evident just by looking at the man in front of him. Gone was the skinny (sickly) twink boy, replaced by broad muscles and a healthy glow to his skin and luxurious hair.

Fuck.

Monty really did have a thing for redheads.

Monty himself, however, looked little different; older around the eyes, maybe, evidence of sleepless nights behind bars, hair a little longer on top from the lack of regular trips to the barber (a luxury he couldn't afford, nor had time for, in this expensive city). The most obvious difference would be the new ink he got on a lonely night not long after Vitya left. It wouldn’t look like new ink anymore, though, after over three years of wear.

Logically, intelligently, Monty knew Joie would have been a dead end. He didn’t exactly leave a forwarding address, moving to New York without a word to anyone. The only evidence he’d ever been there would be rumors of a boy with a gun at a school-sponsored event and a trophy in a display cabinet bearing the names Daniel Allen and Montgomery Prescott.

Secretly, though, Monty had a fantasy of Vitya sneaking away from his Father’s control and using the patriarch’s near-infinite ~magical~ resources to find Monty and sweep him off his feet like a fucking damsel in a tower.

Monty trembled as Vitya’s fingers brushed his face.

Just a simple touch filled with tenderness was soothing in a way he’d sorely missed...

They had explored their fair share of kink during their relationship, and this moment reminded him of a specific one that Vitya embodied rather well now with his new look. When Monty was wound up tight with stress in his research or paranoid about Picciotto cousins showing up, Vitya could get him out of his own head, reduce the strain, soothe him ...and make him feel so free it was like flying.

He’d do anything to feel like that again.

Monty raised his head slowly and coughed to clear his throat.

“I- me-”

Words failed him, and so he relied on the thing that had always worked between them. A fierce, closed-lipped kiss captured his shared sentiment.

“Still can’t believe ya here,” Monty murmured, sitting up more and leaning into Vitya, placing a palm on his toned chest as though to check he was real, not a ghost...

“Are ya stayin’?”

Vitya —

Vitya chuckled, warmly yet quietly, at Monty calling him out. It was a cop-out to blame the universe, but he truly had no idea Monty worked at that lab. What else could it have been, though? He'd crossed the ocean twice, landed several states over, years apart- whatever deity was watching him, he would have to thank later.

Vitya accepted the kiss Monty gave like a starved man, his voice letting out a moan into it that turned into a gasp when they separated. His hand cradled Monty's neck, the closer he got, eyes going down to where the other man was touching his chest. He nodded, taking Monty's hand and guiding it to the first button of his shirt. He moved his fingers so they popped it out together, revealing more of his fair skin underneath.

"As long as you'll have me." He whispered, leaning himself forward to return Monty's kiss with a delicate, tender 'thank you' kiss of his own. Thanking him for listening, for accepting him as he was, for seeing through what he was, enough to bring him in like this. He brought Monty's hand in more, one more button popping open, to press it skin-to-skin, feel just how rapid yet strong his heart was beating.

Vitya broke the kiss to move his mouth to Monty's cheek, trailing his lips down to his neck, and up again to his ear. There was a burn in his stomach that had his hands shaking and head reeling, diving in for more like an addict in active relapse. He acted on impulse, not unlike walking out the door that damn day all those years ago, the blood in his veins boiling him from the inside out. "Tell me to stop," he said softly, nipping the lobe of his ear as the third button of Vitya's shirt opened. "I won't- I can't stop myself-" he breathed out. "Thought I lost you, ruined my one good thing-" He took Monty's lips again, a quick hard-pressed kiss, before he went to the other side of Monty's neck.

With his frame so much more imposing now, Vitya pushed, lightly but firmly, till Monty was on his back, Vitya's body covering the other man's as he marked and suckled at whatever skin he could reach. He wanted to show just how sorMonty he was, wanted to make up for time lost, promises broken, and every second that wasn't this was a wasted second. Vitya lifted his head to look at Monty, searching for permission to continue, drinking in the sight before him. "...fuck, you're beautiful. So fucking beautiful."

Monty —

Monty reveled in the sounds Vitya made as their lips met; it was like music to his ears, and he was certainly proud to be able still to cause such a reaction in his favorite man with the touch of his lips.

The hands guiding him were so perfectly familiar, too. Vitya’s hands may no longer be stained with ink the way they had constantly been before, but, with Vitya’s hand cradling his face, they still fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Never wanted ya ta’ go,” Monty mumbled against Vitya’s lips, not quite ready for them to be apart.

This was what he’d been craving not-so-subconsciously, since the moment they had crashed together in his office. Helping Vitya unbutton his shirt like this was such an intimate feeling. They weren’t ripping each other's clothes off in a frenzy, nor fighting their way out of their own; this was something very different, like a partnership as they popped each button.

The strength of Vitya’s heart was a glorious thing. Monty had spent too many long nights awake, terrified it would give out both while they were together and while they were apart. After Vitya had bad days, when he’d seemed weaker or had exhausted quickly, Monty wouldn’t sleep a wink, terrified that if he closed his eyes, Vitya would slip away.

However, this time, Monty wasn’t feeling for and counting the beats as he had done back then; he was entirely distracted by a change in the smooth skin he knew so well, having spent so much time tracing that area with the tips of his fingers. It may have been years since the last time he was able to do this, but he knew it, just as certainly as he knew his own name, that this scar was new.

Monty's blood ran cold.

“Vit….”

Monty sat up straight, looking right into Vitya’s eyes curiously, haphazardly struggling to tug the rest of the shirt buttons open with shaking hands, trying to get a proper look at Vitya’s chest as his own began to rise and fall faster and faster as panic set in. He was too far gone to fully appreciate the fact that it was a scar, meaning it was healed and not currently in immediate danger.

“Tell me… ya gotta tell me…”

Monty’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, looking imploringly at Vitya, begging for an explanation, desperate to understand.

Vitya —

Vitya felt like a hot metal rod dipped into an ice bath wherever Monty's fingers touched, eyes fluttering closed as he left a trail of marks up his neck like stepping stones, evidence of where he had been. His breathy moans and whimpers of need leaked out like steam, releasing years and years of tension he never knew he was holding.

"Don't let me-" Vitya gasped out. "Don't let me leave." He spoke desperately, unfiltered thoughts overflowing. He sealed their lips together like a vice, his eveMonty nerve ending singing like it hadn't in years. He wanted to devour, desire threatening to overtake the rational side of his mind, to race towards unashamed pleasure.

He was sent reeling when Monty tore them apart, jumping back and off of him. Had he done something wrong, touched the wrong place? Just as he was going to ask, Monty tore the rest of his shirt open, staring directly at the middle of his chest.

Vitya visibly relaxed, sighing and taking the hands holding his shirt open into his own. "Hey, hey, it's alright," he hushed, leaning forward to kiss Monty's cheek. Vitya instinctively reached to touch the outline of the scar, now under such direct scrutiny. It was thin, pink, and had small, barely-there scarred dots on either side, evidence of a suture over the incision. He had been cut and pulled open, then resealed, like his heart was a cog in a machine needing maintenance. "I'm okay, just needed a little help, is all." He was downplaying a bit; it was serious back when he got the operation. Any more time denying himself his own medical care, like he had when he came to America the first time, and Monty may have one day found him dead, as he feared. But not anymore. "A valve had started to fail, but we found it in time. I had a tiny operation, see? Scar is small, small problem was solved."

Vitya kissed Monty's forehead, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders, hoping to soothe what he knew kept Monty awake at night all these years. His heart nearly broke, thinking of Monty in some jail cell, thinking him dead; he did that to Monty. Never again.

"I'm not dying on you. It's over. Nothing to fear anymore." He assured, whispered like a promise between them, but to himself. He didn't have to fear his own demise anymore, able to jump and take what he wanted without reservation. That included this, whatever they were doing. Vitya could keep up with him, now until a much later dying day.

Vitya took the shirt off completely, letting Monty view all of him. Eyes locked, and he held his breath. He had put a lot of effort into himself; in a way, he shamed when they were together, mocking gym bros any chance he got. Now, with his heart in working order, he had a routine, a way to maintain his hard-earned physique, and he wanted Monty to enjoy it, scar or not.

"You see? Better now... right?" he asked, eyes searching Monty's face for approval, appreciation, affection, anything…

Monty —

Monty answered in kind with his own gasps and groans as they sank into each other for the first time in years. No quicky in a club could come close to feeling as good as it did to be with Vitya. "Not lettin' ya go again. Don't care why, ya never gettin' back on a plane without me." Monty growled. Vitya may be the more physically imposing of the two now, but Monty still had the street in his blood the way his Boarding School Beau did not. It was a threat, plain and simple.

The way Vitya held Monty's hands felt so tender that Monty felt waves of the submissiveness he hadn't allowed to show since Vitya left wash over him. A gentle kiss to his cheek, another to his forehead, felt so delicate that they made him shiver. He felt so cared for.

No matter how open Vitya seemed, how honest his words sounded, Monty didn't know how to stop the fear that refused to wane.

"Ya' Dad, did he? What 'bout the others, other three, when ya here an' 'es there! What if-" The tears spilled now, he couldn't hold them back. The irony was he would never have let them spill if Vitya hasn't been so fuckin' sweet. He was too comfortable being back in Vitya's arms, he'd allowed himself to be exposed and raw, and this was where it had gotten him. If he didn't love Vitya so damn much, he wouldn't care enough to be so heartbroken by his fear for Vitya's life.

Fully seeing Vitya shirtless made Monty hiccup as he gasped, it would have been a whimper of pleasure and need if it wasn't for the fact he was crying. It had been obvious Vitya's body had changed, even though his clothes certainly had been able to feel abs and pecs when Vit had brought Monty's hand inside his shirt, but the reality of seeing it all laid bare had an impact.

Monty curled up small and tucked himself as best he could against the strong, broad chest of the man he loved. Grasping at Vitya's arms in an effort to cocoon himself entirely in the only place he felt safe.

Vitya —

In some odd way, in some fucked up way, the possessive, threatening tone that came from Monty, so in contrast to everything else, had Vitya swooning all over again. He whined the tiniest bit as a need ripped through him, Monty ripping control from his hands and letting him choose what he'd do, however he pleased. "Fuck, please-" is all he could manage before actions took over words once more.

Vitya breathed deeply, quelling the burning coals of his arousal as Monty, very clearly, hyper-focused on his health. This was the damage he caused. Monty may be reacting to physical scars in him, but the ones he left on Monty were mental, emotional. Just the idea that Vitya neared death without him was enough to send him spiraling, right before his eyes.

Fuck, what had he done to him? Just how far did the damage go?...

Vitya shushed as Monty's tears spilled over, panic setting in. Vitya cupped his cheeks with both hands, setting aside his want to lose control for his need to fix what he had broken. "I know, I know, we were so used to walking on eggshells, every day was a battle, hmn?" He said, not wanting to dismiss his fears. Monty's entire world was shattered today. Vitya had a duty to help put it back together. "It's not like that anymore. No doctor studied my case more than my father. You can breathe, Monty. I'm alright."

His thumbs ran up and down his cheeks, trying to soothe him gently as Monty looked him over, seemingly starting to see the whole picture. His arms instinctively came around him as Monty dove into his chest. Vitya buried his face into Monty's hair, breathing in his deep, natural scent while keeping Monty's ear to his chest. Vitya flashed right back to the dorm, night after night, falling asleep like this, Monty listening like his erratic beat was a metronome to fall asleep to while he slipped to sleep under the pressure of someone else. This, though, was him keeping Monty upright, catching him as he fell into his new reality.

"I've got you," he said into Monty's hair, pinpricks of tears starting in his eyes as the memories of before clashed with the reality of now. All that to get here... "I'm not going anywhere. You have been waiting so long for me, haven't you? Fuck, I'm sorMonty." He whispered, one of the hands around Monty, coming to hold his head, slipped into his hair like it belonged there.

"So much of my life has changed, Monty, but this-" He held Monty just a bit tighter, fingers laced lovingly in his locks. "This hasn't."

Monty —

The most ridiculous part of all of this was how fucking hard he was getting from Vitya's soft words. The little hmm, the certainty with which Vitya reassured him without brushing his feelings under the rug; Vitya could have been talking to a child rather than a grown man, and yet it fed his deepest desires.

The desire to be loved.

With Schuyler, Monty had fought for his love. He'd manipulated, lied, and used Schuy to fulfill his own twisted idea of love, something to fill the void in his heart with something, anything he could get his hands on. What he'd ended up with was even more loneliness and hatred.

With Vitya, though, in the beginning, there was no desperation to gain the other man's affections. All either of them had agreed to was casual sex to let off some steam and have some fun, but something happened they hadn't planned for, and Monty finally learned what loving someone meant.

Who knows, maybe if he'd done nothing, he and Schuy may have been happy. But Monty didn't care about that anymore. These days it was rare he ever thought about Schuy; in fact, he was more likely to think of his unexpected friendship he'd garnered with Mason, Schuy's unconventional sudo son stroke little brother.

"Never- never thought ya would come back..." Monty croaked through the still spilling tears. It was a silent Monty, the only sound giving it away was the occasional snuffle. "Didn' know how ta stop waitin'... even if I wanted ta..." His words were laced with pain and desperation. "Needed ya ta be okay. Some nights I-" but he couldn't burden Vitya anymore with his contemptible feelings and actions while he'd been away.

Vitya —

Vitya felt his insides sinking lower and lower the more Monty clung to him, releasing his inner demons with ease, like he was an altar to be confessed at. Vitya could barely take what he was hearing, his eyes forced closed to stamp away his own tears. He needed to keep himself put together, for Monty's sake.

"Hey, stop," Vitya said gently, sensing how much talking about this was upsetting Monty. "Later. Look at me." He spoke again, in the same strong tone, taking the hand in Monty's hair and moving to lift his chin from where he was tucked away in his chest. "We don't have to talk about everything tonight. Don't choke in your words for my sake."

He leaned down, kissing Monty again, this time a soft, true kiss, not one of their fevered, desperate clashes. One that stopped and started, slow and full of intent. More about affection than sex, saying what they couldn't say out loud just yet, with the slowness, he kissed Monty. "Wait is over. You have me, I'm right here." He assured. "I'm not going anywhere."

Vitya brought Monty into a full embrace again, intent on helping the other man through his panic rather than dealing with his own arousal. His half-hard cock in his pants jumped at the closeness, Vitya ignoring it even for Monty's own, discovered with how close they were now.

"I've got you, Monty." He said softly into the other man's ear. "I'm okay, just how you need. No more doubts or guessing."

Monty —

Monty whined quietly at the hand in his hair, the finger directing him to look Vitya in the eyes. It was hard to do when he was filled with the pain and the shame of the things he'd done, but in the end, his desire won out, and he met Vit's gaze and nodded obediently, feeling safe from the monsters in his head.

Monty bathed in the kiss; it was heated in a way that was more like stoking an already burning fire rather than setting a whole house alight. He allowed himself to sink into the feeling of home, that he was right where he should be.

Even when they broke apart to breathe, Monty continued kissing Vit; along his angular jawline, down his neck, nuzzling into the spot where he'd always attached himself to suckle, unabashedly leaving behind a hickey just as he'd enjoyed before. The 'no marks' rule Vit had when they first started messing around had driven Monty mad back then and boy did he exploit it once they became exclusive, this time there was nothing stopping him staking his claim, though he did have enough clarity of mind to ensure the mark was below shirt collar height; he didn't want to cause problems with the business partners on the off chance any of them had direct contact with Vitya's father and might tell him of the 'shameful' display.

Fuck, the assurances were all too much, too wonderful, too confident, too everything, that the ghost of Vitya's breath on the shell of his ear had him twitching with need to be completely overtaken, and made one.

"Please, Vitya, I need ya..." He bucked his hips seeking friction, no longer able to hold back, now he'd begun to come down from his panic and fear. This time around, it wasn't just Vitya telling Monty he was healthy; there was physical evidence right in front of him. He was no longer alone, his lover was holding him tight. Peace washed over him, and with it the need to feel completely connected.

Vitya —

Vitya's mind was finding it more and more difficult to stay focused on Monty and his needs, his reactions, as the man himself set to derail his efforts. The intense, direct need to mark, to claim, to own him made his brain short-circuit. He kept himself present enough, his physical need overridden by his need to please. He could feel Monty's hardness, hear the desperation in his begging, and, surrounding it all, was an air of second chances. Of righting the wrongs he had been committing around with him for years.

Vitya took control then. He heard that tone before, the need so carnal in Monty's voice, it meant one thing. "I know you do," he said just as desperately, taking the moment back by sliding a hand between them and touching Monty's bulge directly. His palm slid up and down, the motion a distraction as he got up from the bed, sliding himself down onto the floor. With his newfound strength, his hands moved to Monty's hips, pulling him till he was sitting on the very edge.

Vitya looked up from his place on his knees, directly between Monty's thighs, hands sliding from Monty's hips, over the rise under his zipper, to his belt buckle. His practiced movements, the buckle was undone, and Vitya teased the button, fingertip circling it. "I have a lot to make up for," he hinted as the button popped open. His eyes locked onto the zipper, then up at Monty, the anticipation nearly sweet enough to satisfy.

Nearly.

Vitya, leaning closer and closer, pulled the zipper down agonizingly slowly, eyes not leaving Monty's face one second. "Let me start here?" He asked, the near growl of his tone giving away his ulterior motive. He wanted to fix his connection with Monty, yes, but- but he also really wanted the man's dick in his throat. Especially after feeling the way Monty pressed it against him earlier. "I will show you just how 'good' I am now."

Monty —

Monty barely held back a scream at the pressure of Vitya's hand against his bulge. His back arched as the electricity shot through him, lighting his nerves on fire in a way he hadn't felt with anyone since Vitya.

Mont gasped as Vitya manhandled him. He'd been so lost in the pleasurable distraction, he'd not fully realized Vitya had made it all the way to the floor until Vit was face-to-face with his, even with fabric between them, it was near-overwhelming and yet still not enough.

"Don' want ya ta 'make it up ta me'. I wan'a new chapter with ya'" he panted, "f-f-forget the goin' part, just come back ta me." He whined, letting his mouth run, revealing his desires for the two of them as a couple, not just the ecstasy his dick was chasing. The sex was just the tip of the iceberg in their relationship, so much of it was hidden beneath the surface, but it was the guaranteed way for them to rediscover each other.

"Yes... " Good, so good," Monty hissed, only just hanging on to his consciousness, moments from tipping over the edge into the place where he would stop thinking and just feel.

Vitya — Vitya didn't take his eyes off Monty's face as he opened his pants, one piece of fabric away from his prize. As his fingertips grazed the waistband of Monty's underwear, he froze. 'Come back to me.' Monty just said. So desperately, too. Vitya could feel a tension growing in his shoulders; there was no way Monty would have missed it. He paused a full two seconds, before his fingers expertly pulled down on Monty's waistband, letting free his hard and needy member. A tease, and a hesitation, but in the end, the idea of being together with Monty made his entire body tingle, enveloped in heat as his eyes left Monty's face to see the prize he was after.

His eyes didn't linger, though, going back to Monty's face to catch every moment. His right hand left the waistband, coming to circle around the base and slowly inch up. "I am back, I'm right here," he said swiftly, leaning forward to place a kiss the head, his wrist doing all the work for him for now.

"Formalities later, I promise. Can't talk when I'm-" Vitya interjected himself, and in one fluid, convincing stroke, slid his tongue from base to tip, and back again. "Busy."

Monty — Monty suddenly stopped falling into the bliss, that peaceful place where he was safe and cared for and could allow his mind to be free of pain and his body free of tension. Vitya's stopping had been a very obvious hitch in the rhythm of their dance.

“Wha’s wrong?” He raised himself up on his elbows, trying to read Vitya’s expression through the haziness of his pleasure-addled mind. There was something, he couldn’t fathom what, but it was something that made him shiver.

“Mmmm. Mine,” Monty groaned, basking in the attention to his weeping cock and the affirmation Vitya was here, exactly where he should be.

Feeling the heat of Vitya's tongue finally made contact, Monty threw his head back, every inch of him on fire, every nerve tingling. Nobody could do this like Vitya; nobody knew his body like Vitya. He played Monty like an instrument.

"More, please, more." Monty was nearly sobbing, and they hadn't even made it to the final course of their meal yet, but he was already losing control. He had no room in his mind to think of anything except being physically connected to Vitya.

Vitya —

Vitya was determined to move along, go on to better things like getting his mouth full, but Monty stopped everything. His skip in pace was like a scratched CD in the player, so distinct it had to be pointed out. He shook his head, a hand coming up to try to lightly push Monty back down.

"Shh, nothing, I just... Hearing you talk like that, so easily, after all this- I never thought I would hear them," he confessed, looking down at himself, at his tossed clothes that represented who he was now. "I've become everything you hate... and you still want me to come back to you?" Vitya was still very familiar with being on his knees. It was his go-to when he used to work the streets. He was enough of an adult now to know it was one of his favorite parts of sex, to give oral. There was a power in having that control over another person, and Monty gave him the best view as he 'put his mouth to work', as he once aptly called it. He spared no time, giving Monty's cock a few more lengthy slides of the tongue before enveloping his mouth around it entirely.

Vitya hadn't done much, a steady deepthroat with his hand following behind, and Monty was bordering on tears. Vitya's heart pounded in his chest; this was more intense than when they were younger. Much more.

He pulled off suddenly, letting his hand do all the work for a moment, stroking at the same pace he was sucking at. "Don't blow yet. Not yet..." he rasped out, one hand coming down to palm his own hard dick, trapped in his pants, as he kissed the cockhead in front of him.

Monty —

Monty struggled through the fog of pleasure and wriggled enough that Vitya couldn’t get him flat on his back again.

He had to hear, had to understand.

Monty sighed at the devastating look on Vitya’s face, grasping at the hand he was attempting to push Monty back with. The sigh was not a pained noise, or an exasperated noise, but one of pleasure. He was still ramped up, his cock still hard and skin still tingling. It made his head spin and his tongue lose.

“Nothin’s ever been easier than havin’ ya with me. All the fucked up shit’s worth it ‘s’long as ya here.” Monty bit his lip, body trembling. “Please stay, please be mine. I love you.” Monty whined. He’d never spoken so clearly in his life. It may have ended with a sound of desperation, but the words were precise.

His accent, his horrid speech patterns, from growing up on the wrong side of the tracks as he had, surrounded by mobsters speaking some botched version of Italian half the time, was never something he cared to correct. Some days, he was ashamed of how painfully obvious it was that he didn't belong and how out of place it made him feel, but it was part of who he was, for better or worse.

Now, though, as he floated on the edge of bliss with Vitya in front of him, he spoke as determinedly as he could. The words were soft, gentle, a vocal incarnation of his feelings.

“Nothin, nothin could make me hate ya. I wouldn’t care if ya burned eveMontythin’ to the ground, I’d be here, waitin’.”

It was like a prayer, the way he whispered the promise to always be there, to continue waiting just as he had these last years if Vitya left again…

Monty struggled to keep still as Vitya worked his magic. There was something truly otherworldly about how Vitya made him feel, and nothing could compare. It was as though he’d been celibate for the past four years, and now he was being touched again for the first time.

“Not until- until ya let me.” Monty mindlessly nodded in agreement to what sounded like an order. Even with Vitya's voice raspy from having Monty's dick down his throat, Vitya still held all the control with just a few words in the right tone, with the right inflection. Mont licked his lips as he followed Vitya’s hand down to the bulge in his pants.

“Use me, Sir, please, use me to make yourself feel good, for whatever you need, anythin.” He begged. He wasn’t losing control of his load; he was losing control of his mind, floating again as if into another dimension entirely.

Vitya —

Vitya shook in fear. Monty was giving him so much grace and implicit forgiveness, draped him in it, nearly drowning him. It choked him, a pressure wrapping around his neck at the sheer amount of affection radiating between them. Monty was begging for it, desperately yearning for him to take them both back to normal. Back to the rightness being together brought them.

Monty was baring all, not hiding a thing, as he whispered and confessed what he had been bottling for years. That he was waiting, and would wait longer, how after Vitya destroyed anything, he kept waiting. Vitya could hardly stand it. He had run off, played the good heir, a hotshot millionaire playboy, and Monty waited for him to come back.

It sent a pulse down his spine, right to his cock.

"...really?" With Monty's hand stopping him from pushing him down, he turned his hand over to take it instead. He laced their fingers together and brought the hand to his lips, placing a short kiss to each of Monty's fingers before looking at him. "Nothing?" he asked, as if to check if Monty wanted to take it back, get out while he can. But he knew it was useless. Monty was proving, each second they shared together, that there was truly nothing that could push him away. Not even leaving in the middle of the night, never to be seen again...

"I... I love you too." He whispered, lips backing away from Monty's fingers. "I never stopped."

It was like music to his ears, each and eveMonty moan and gasp a different instrument in the symphony. His wrist held the base of Monty's cock as he went back to getting those noises to come out, mouth going up and down on his member while he palmed his own. He worked to get his slacks open, changing the pace so he could pleasure himself at the same rate his throat filled over and over.

Monty calling him 'Sir' added more fuel to the fire.

Vitya buried himself down to the base before looking up, sealing his lips as he pulled up and off again with a squelching pop, a gravelly "Fuck-" coming out before he went back to kissing and suckling the head. It was wet and sloppy, the exact type of mess Vitya loved to make.

"Thi- fuck me-" He coughed once. "Think you can fuck my throat before I nail you?" he asked, a hazy, lust-filled look in his eyes, thinking with his dick instead of his brain. "I-I really missed your cock in my throat."

Monty —

Monty allowed their fingers to lace together and ran his thumb over Vitya's knuckles in a soothing motion as Vitya kissed each one of his own tenderly, noticing the tremors in Vitya. Monty'd do anything to make Vitya see how loved he was; he just didn't know how.

"Nothin'- I swear," he promised with all the confidence and determination he could muster in his state of pleasure and desperation. He wasn't backing down.

At the 'I never stopped' of Vitya's 'I love you' Mont shivered, the pulse of the blood in his veins sent a throbbing down his cock, making him breathless. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, or pain he didn't know he was in, relented. The endless time lying alone in a cell, feeling so alone, yet now knowing he wasn't because Vitya had still loved him, and that made him whole.

Monty allowed himself to get lost in the pleasure of Vitya's talented mouth and fully relax into just feeling. He gripped his hands in the sheets below in an effort to stay present.

It took a couple of blinks before Monty could focus his eyes fully on Vit when he spoke, and Mont grinned lopsidedly like he was drunk with pleasure. "Fuck, yeah, ya want my cock ya gonna get it." He panted, reaching down to thread his fingers through Vitya's heartbreakingly short hair, canting his hips up, thrusting into nothing, so desperate to make contact.

Vitya —

Affection met with affection, softness with softness. When they were both barely adults, treating love and sex frivolously, this type of gentle touch was rare, especially when they danced around their emotions like children. Here, though, it came out like a broken faucet, Vitya's skin growing warm with each passing second. Sealed with Monty's oath of forgiveness, Vitya had a release of stress so tight it made him whine.

Vitya looked up and saw Monty lost in thought, somewhere else after hearing him confess his buried emotion. He kissed Monty's hand again, trying to bring him back. "Glad to know hatefucking is off the menu." He joked lightly, needing to reciprocate the sense of comfort Monty just draped over him. That even if Monty did hate him, he would be within arm's reach, always.

Vitya took Monty's buck of his hips as a challenge, lining his mouth up just shy of the tip. The fingers in his hair begged for more, feeling powerful as Monty's pleasure relied entirely on his will to give it. He played nice at first, giving three full slides of his tongue up and down before pulling away again. He then kissed up one side, then the other, then the underside. Vitya was more than playing, he was worshiping. There was a lust in his eyes unmatched by anything before.

"Hard, Monty, please-" Vitya whispered a begging of his own as he sealed his lips around the head, wanting nothing more in life than to give Monty utmost pleasure.

Monty —

Monty sighed, feeling the intimacy of the moment deep in his bones. These sweet, gentle touches, like the kiss on his hand, were so foreign but felt so right. How something so simple could feel so huge,, he didn't know, but he was happy to bask in the feeling, not fight to understand why,, but to just embrace it.

Vitya's little joke brought Monty back to conscious presence. "Think we passed that a long time ago." Monty snickered. "The first couple times maybe but don' need ta hate ya ta fuck good." He grinned, the most words that had come out of his mouth in a while,, now since he'd been lost in pleasure.

Monty's grip on Vitya's hair went from caresses to an attempt to hold onto his sanity and his release. Goosebumps rose across his entire body as Vitya worshipped him, and more specifically,, his cock, in such a teasing way. He hadn't had attention like this since- well, since Vitya left.

Finally- finally there was that hold on his cock, lips caressing his head in the most delicious way. "Yesss" he hissed out, buckling up, burying himself in tight wet heat.... and once he started, there was no stopping, not when Vitya's begging rang in his ears, so he kept going, thrusting into Vit's mouth, claiming him with his cock, giving the both of them what they needed.

Vitya —

Vitya hummed a laugh, agreeing with the recollection of their first few flings together, warm feelings rising in his chest. Even back then, it was hard for him to say no to Monty, money or not. They went at each other like animals, compatible in a way no one else had been before. "Damn right."

With Vitya's lips now sealed, it wasn't long before Monty gripped his hair and found a rhythm. He was rough, giving him no time to adjust. His eyes twinkled with tears, yet he was fully hard in seconds.

He wasn't without tricks, though. As Monty uses his throat as a personal toy, he started a low hum, sending a vibration directly to Monty's cock. The occasional deep thrust interrupted him, but he kept the same moaning hum, eyes looking up to see the pleasure etched across Monty's face.

It was the most beautiful thing he had seen in ages. Monty was shaking with pleasure, holding on for dear life as Vitya started to bounce his head to meet his thrusts. Vitya refused to touch himself directly, keeping full focus on Monty and making him feel good.

Monty —

Monty writhed on the bed, the vibrations of the humming a little trick he’d forgotten Vitya had up his sleeve. No matter how often he’d thought of Vitya when he tugged himself off late at night all alone, the fantasy could never live up to the reality.

With hips thrusting erratically, chasing his pleasure, and Vitya egging him on by the way he sucked so damn earnestly, Monty couldn't restrain himself. All he wanted to do was take take take… take ownership of Vitya; of his senses, his mind, his body. Vitya had basically begged Monty to destroy his throat, and he was doing his damned best to tear him apart with his dick.

Who was giving whom the most pleasure now it was almost impossible to say. “Vit,” he panted, “Gonna come down ya fuckin’ throat if ya don’ get that cock in my ass right the fuck now.” He whined. It was supposed to sound demanding, like he could call the shots, but it was nothing short of begging. “S’fuckin’ empty.” He nearly cried as he tried to keep his eyes open and hold back the orgasm he hadn’t been permitted to let go of yet…

Vitya — Vitya was steady, eager with his movements as he sucked Monty off. He could already feel the back of his throat being bruised, not stopping to ease the pain. This is what he was after. A true ferocity, a chase to give and receive pleasure, taken for all it was worth. Vitya lightly gagged as some of Monty's bucked upward, the cries for more that accompanied them rising him from his cock-sucking. God, he could do this all day...

Vitya pulled his mouth off, just as Monty asked, gasping for air as his hand stroked the length up and down instead. He was just shy of letting him cum, too, when Monty whined for a different kind of stimulation. "What, are you a one-and-done now? Quick to the trigger?" Vitya teased, his face right next to Monty's cock. He reached forward, playfully tugging at the shirt Monty was still in. "Saving your one shot for the end?"

Monty —

How was it that he was the one in control here? With Vitya allowing him to set the pace, he was directing their pleasure, and yet Vitya had a spell on him; every sound and minute reaction from Vit influenced Monty's every move. It should have been surprising, the way Mont still remembered Vitya's every cue; the way he looked and sounded with his mouth full of Monty's cock, but it wasn't. EveMonty memoMonty coming to the surface, not that they were buried deep, but he'd committed eveMonty expression on his lover's face, every gag and groan to memoMonty.

"Don' wanna come til ya inside." He moaned without restraint, uncaring that every one of his neighbors on adjoining walls could hear it. Not to mention Vitya had told him not to blow yet, and Monty had promised 'not until ya let me'...

Monty panted heavily, trying to catch his breath as Vit switched from sucking to stroking, and he mindlessly allowed Vitya to strip him of his shirt. He was in too deep to remember the change in his own body since they'd last been shirtless together....

Ya tebya lyublyu

In a decorative script beneath his ribs on the left side of his chest, well healed as it was nearing four years old, the tattoo sat forgotten as his mind was overtaken with lust.

Vitya —

Vitya's head was a fluzzy, blissful, and blank. All he had to do was keep his jaw open and feel, Monty, using his throat like a toy. Perfect. The passion between them, despite only being oral at this point, had him nearly finishing in his pants. He kept it together as he waited for Monty to finally take his shirt off, when dark lines over once blank skin caught his eye.

Monty getting new ink wasn't news; there was no way he'd go years without new work. But this didn't stand out for simply existing, no. He could read it. Vitya's thoughts defaulted to Russian, processing the words on Monty's skin and nearly passing them off before it stopped him cold. His hand stopped moving, his breath hitched. Vitya could read it.

'Я тебя люблю. Я тебя люблю. Я тебя люблю.'

Vitya's face slipped into a soft, lost expression as he pulled himself up from leaning down to suck Monty off, totally forgetting what exactly they were just doing. His free hand, the one not still wrapped around Monty's cock, went up and traced the letters as they appeared. He didn't realize he had started to hyperventilate until his ears started to ring. All he could do was get out a few words before the shock rendered him useless, the right corner of his mouth already moving upward.

"What did you do..."

Monty —

Vitya's sudden stop had caught Monty off guard, causing him to take a sharp breath that caught in his throat the moment he felt fingers on his chest. If he hadn't been so laser-focused on Vitya's mouth and hand around him, the delicate touch probably would have tickled.

Monty's face began to glow a soft pink rather than the red flush it took on during physical exertion (or, you know, when he was topping.)

"When I- when I left Ohio I wanted ta forget everything, all the mess I made." He responded softly, running a hand tenderly through Vitya's hair, rather than holding on for dear life as he had been moments before.

"But I needed ta take a piece of ya with me, couldn't go without ya." He avoided making eye contact, looking off into the distance behind Vitya to attempt to keep his emotions under control.

Sex with Vitya always had been a trigger to get Monty to open up in ways he never had with anyone else, and it seemed that still hadn't changed.

Realizing that Vitya was on the verge of panic from the way he was hyperventilating, Monty shuffled around until he could hold Vitya in a tight embrace; their naked bodies pressed together so intimately it ached in his chest. "-'s okay, -'m sorry, just ignore it, I'll put my shirt back on, yeah?" Monty whispered, interpreting Vitya's panic as a reaction to Monty being too much. Too clingy, too needy, too desperate, too in love ...and yet he still held Viyta, carefully, trying to calm his shock with sweet "shhh" sounds and gentle hums.

Vitya —

Vitya was frozen, his fingers tracing the lines of the words on his skin. He could barely hear the other man talking, consumed entirely by the sight of the tattoo on his chest. God damn it, it was his words, in his language, on Monty's skin. He fell into Monty's full embrace when he was pulled in, wrapping his arms around him in sheer astonishment as his mind raced.

"Don't you fucking dare." Vitya gasped out, clambering to cradle Monty's head as they pressed close together. This was nothing like his scar. No, this was commitment. This was worship, for him. Monty woke up alone and more than kept loving him; he devoted space on his body for him. Fingers tangled in Monty's dark curls as he shook in his hold. "I don't want a shirt on you ever again."

Vitya shoved himself away from Monty enough to look at it again. He had to look again, make sure Monty wasn't tricking him. He ran his fingers over it intentionally, and sure enough, it remained. There was no stopping his breathing, the excitement and panic ping-ponging back and forth inside him. "You crazy son of a bitch." He huffed out, admiration and disbelief combining on his face. His eyes finally tore away from the ink, directly meeting Monty's gaze as tears began to prick. "You're insane, you are fucking insane-" he gasped out, rushing forward to take Monty's lips into a passionate, heated kiss.

Monty —

Monty was shocked to discover Vitya wasn't frustrated or annoyed with him. At the time, the tattoo was entirely for himself; quite sure Vitya would never see his body again to discover the tattoo, and Monty would have to face up to what the other man thought of it. Now he was faced with it, Monty's heart raced.

All Monty could do was just keep touching Vitya, caressing his body with a touch more gentle than his hands had ever managed before. He let the flow of words escape Vitya without interrupting, just letting the younger man feel. It was clear to see in those green eyes that so many emotions were passing through his mind.

The way Vitya cradled his head made Monty feel so cherished. It wasn't just loved but revered and protected. He had to bite his lip in order to keep his own tears at bay. It was such a huge feeling there was no way to express it other than to hold onto Vitya even tighter. He didn't have the words... his only thought was to repeat the ones permanently etched on his skin.

"Ya tebya lyublyu." He murmured against Vitya's skin. His pronunciation far from perfect, but the syllables were sweet and warm, the way he remembered his mother whispering sweet nothings to him as a small child during the short times she was sober.

There was a split second of panic when Vitya pushed off until Monty realized he was just moving to get another glimpse, and a wry chuckle escaped him when Vitya basically tried to rub the words away. "Sorry, it ain't comin' off." He laughed thickly through the lump in his throat.

Monty dived back into the kiss messily, grabbing at Vitya's hips to grind their cocks together. "Fuck me now, please." He begged, his own dick hadn't fallen further than half mast during their interlude, and Vitya resuming the passionate kiss had him right back where he'd been; absolutely achingly desperate to feel Vitya inside him.

Vitya —

Monty's touch was so soft it made him gasp for air, collecting himself as Monty held him tighter and tighter. Panic moved on, replaced with giddy disbelief. He wanted to stare at it, trace it with his fingers, ingrain its existence into his memory so he'd die thinking of it.

A vocal, desperate whine left Vitya's lips as Monty spoke those words to him. They rang in his ears, the 'damn Russian' he always cursed, coming out like sacred hymns. Said so quietly, he barely heard, inhaling more as the breathlessness continued. "Again," he demanded, needy for that direct punch of hearing Monty's voice in his native tongue.

The kiss broke down any remaining barriers, like gasoline on a fire. For the first time in years, they were skin-to-skin, as close as they could be. Vitya stripped the rest of his clothes off in seconds, till he was completely nude, eagerly grinding their hips together to chase that hot passion. His hands went exploring, aiming right for what Monty begged for, using the kiss as a distraction for his hands to slide down toward Monty's ass.

He broke away the kiss as his fingers slipped further in, lips going right for Monty's ear. "You've sealed your fate, you know." He said in a silky, teasing tone, the best he could, as both hands went to play with his ass a bit. "You'll never be rid of me again." He bit at Monty's earlobe, using the pain as a distraction to start teasing Monty open.

Monty —

"-'s okay, a've got ya," Monty whispered soothingly, hearing the whine escape Vitya that could almost be mistaken for a cry of pain, it was so desperate. He tenderly pressed a sweet kiss into Vitya's hair, just basking in the momentary quiet, listening to Vit trying to catch his breath and giving him the support to do it.

Monty obliged easily; Vitya's demand had sent a shiver down his spine and raised goosebumps on his skin.

"Ya tebya lyublyu." He repeated softly, this time directly into Vitya's ear so he could not escape each syllable.

"Now say it right for me." Monty insisted, wanting Vitya's voice engraved into his chest, beside the tattoo.

Monty watched Vitya wriggle out of the remainder of his clothes and sighed when they were finally completely skin to skin. Vitya had always been talented with his mouth, knew exactly where to touch Monty with his hands, but this, being pressed together like this, hip to hip, groin to groin, felt like fireworks.

The feeling of Vitya's hands roaming his body made the kiss even more delicious, causing him to shiver almost violently in response. As soon as it was clear where Vitya's hands were heading, he moaned, possessed, fiercely determined to tell Vitya how much he wanted it, how good it felt to finally have the love of his life where he needed him.

Monty bucked his ass back, trying to get more of that feeling, the teasing, the hint of pleasure, that hid any discomfort. He hadn't bottomed for anyone since Vitya left, and while his toys were good, they were never enough.

"Is that- ah- a threat or a promise?" He groaned, desperate to know Vitya was really his.

Vitya —

The kiss, the tight hold, the shushing in his ear- then, the repeated phrase. Hearing Monty speak to him, straight into his ear, words he never thought he would hear, had him reeling. And the way Monty said it, the word order he picked- it was eternal. He was saying more than an emotion; he was saying Vitya was his one. That it was a special love, one just for him. And it was etched directly onto his skin.

Then Monty asked him to say it right. Say it back. He lifted his head till they were face to face, drowning in Monty's gaze, not caring how natural it was for him to get lost in his eyes so easily. He couldn't resist giving him exactly what he wanted. "Я тебя люблю." he whispered, his fate, and heart, sealed in an instant, as a tear broke containment, slipping down his cheek. "Я тебя люблю, Monty. I-" He swallowed. "I love you."

Nude and needy, Vitya wasted no time, knowing better than to keep Monty waiting. He didn't announce his intention before slipping the first finger inside, his cock responding with a twitch as fingering became their new foreplay. "Both." He teased, working in and out slowly to keep Monty's attention.

As his finger got to work, he ducked his head further to Monty's neck, not caring where the hickey landed, giving a row of them up and down his neck. "Fuck, can tell how tight you are- Going to leave you so sore-" he said between hickeys, sliding a second one inside as he began actively finger fucking Monty.

Monty —

Monty bit his lip, anything to refrain from losing himself completely. He could moan and scream and yell his love for Vitya from the rooftops, but keeping his own tears behind a dam when Vitya’s broke the surface was the last of his armor. He reached up, sliding a kitten lick up Vitya’s cheekbones, consuming the teardrop, making it his, just as they were reclaiming each other with affirmations of love, he would to consume every part of Vit tonight.

The eye contact, the way Vitya seemed to be reading his mind, or seeing into his fucking soul, felt as electric as any touch of skin on skin. “Mark me.” He whined, high and needy, neck arching in presentation as Vitya delivered a messy row of hickeys.

Everything about this day had turned his life upside down. Seeing Vitya again had torn his chest wide open. He’d let so much spill, so much he’d been keeping locked away since the last time he saw anyone from his old life, and he’d surprised himself at his own level of candor. But he had to hold on to something. He wasn’t ashamed to show feelings and emotions in front of Vitya; that was obvious, but he needed a life raft, something he could pull himself out of the depths with if he were to end up drowning again. He had no life vest, didn’t know he needed one the first time around, and was nowhere near prepared enough for this, for today to have devised one since. So he did his best, grasping at the buoy, dancing on the waves, and holding on tight.

Vitya’s fingers inside of him finally gave Monty the connection he needed. It said all the words, that even with all his education, he would never know how to express. They were feelings so huge and overwhelming that he was quite sure the words didn’t exist anyway. Nothing could explain this, not his science, not Nikko’s Gods, not even Vitya’s magic.

Little mewls of pleasure were all Monty could manage as Vitya kept working him over. His dick twitched and dribbled precome the longer Vitya teased, he almost came by the time Vitya finally drove home. Vit was exactly correct, as he often was when it came to their bedroom activities. Monty was going to be sore later, and god he hoped it would last. He needed to keep the echo of the feeling of being so full of the man he loved. His chest ached, and his heart pounded so thunderously he could feel it in his fingers and at his temple.

Vitya —

Vitya was gasping for air, a cocktail of surprise, vulnerability, and arousal as Monty lapped up the tear from his cheek. It was all too much; no thoughts could complete before the next started, as he reeled from such a gesture. "I love you, Monty," he said again, spoken even softer now that he had Monty this close.

Vitya was beside himself. Suddenly, there was no world outside this room. Monty was here, right here, begging to love him, to be loved by him, going so far as to mark his skin with it. That kind of commitment- it nearly made him sick to think about. There was no way he could pay that kind of love back; he'd have to carve his heart out to match it, and nothing short. Monty hated when he kept score, but deep inside he had to, for nothing else than being even. Monty's love had to be repaid.

The closeness was his advantage later, as she did what Monty asked and slipped his mouth on the crook of his collarbone and shoulder, a place where it would peek out of Monty's shirt, if he tried to cover it. Vitya did more than leave a hickey- he bit him. He didn't let go quickly, either, waiting till he was sure the indents of his teeth would last. He let go after seven seconds, pulling back to inspect it; it was already turning purple.

Vitya's eyes broke away from his mark to find Monty's eyes again as it became very clear talking was over now, fingers starting to curl inside him. "Mine," he said low in his chest, confirming just what kind of mark it was he left behind.

The sex. Holy fuck, the sex. Monty stayed perfectly still to be opened up, not wasting any time to get to their primary goal. Vitya kept an eye on Monty's face, stopping just shy of letting him cum again before finally separating long enough for Vitya to line himself up. The view was like a flashbang to his nerves, every touch sending shivers throughout his whole body; he could hardly stand it. Vitya could only breathe and move his hips. Neither spoke beyond 'more' or 'harder' when he finally slipped inside, moans replacing language the longer they fucked.

Monty was perfect. The mewling, the way Vitya's name sounded on his tongue, the sheer tightness as he thrust in and out, in and out. All of it was perfect. The transition from fingers to cock didn't take long at all. The sheets were crumpled, pillows tossed away to make room for more sheets to grip- perhaps even tear, if Vitya went any harder. Round after round of Vitya and Monty chasing each other's orgasm with another, ping-ponging back and forth until, finally, after what felt like hours, they were an exhausted, sweaty, cum-stained heap.

Vitya's eyes could barely keep open as he pulled out some time later, letting Monty's hips go so he could collapse onto the bed. He stayed put, though, not wanting to miss a moment of bliss on Monty's face. "G-gimme a minute," he asked, not completely falling on the bed, but leaning over Monty with a hand next to his head. "I-I haven't... cum that much... in ages," Vitya confessed between gasps for air.

Monty —

Vitya took Monty's breath away as they fucked. As Vitya fucked him, as the man he loved consumed eveMonty part of him. It was something Mont didn't think he'd ever have again, yet had begged the gods for eveMonty day; holding on to the finest thread of hope as he sleep-walked through life.

A few hours ago, Monty would have said the one thing in life he was passionate about right now was his work, but that had been blown out of the water entirely.

It was like falling in love with Vitya all over again, except this time, he knew exactly what was happening. It filled him with joy instead of confusion, like he'd felt before, back when his only prior experience with love was his dangerously unhealthy obsession with Schuyler. That was how he knew this was real; it didn't make him want to kill the other, it made him want to protect Vitya.

The pleasure was near blinding, and adrenaline came in waves as they fucked, emotions rose to near painful highs and drifted down into content lulls. It pulled every expletive he knew from Monty's brain, devolving enough to even let the broken Italian he knew slip out once or twice without him even realizing. He clung to Vitya so tightly at times he was certain there would be bruises in the shape of his grip by tomorrow.

"L-love you, Vit." Monty panted as they came down from the pure bliss, his pupils still blown, but the blue of his irises was almost glowing. He turned his head to the side, placing a soft, sweet kiss on the hand Vitya left beside his head.

Monty tangled his limbs loosely with Vitya's, not having the strength to hold on tightly but certainly not ready to be separated despite the heat and mess of fluids between them. He cared little for how gross it might seem. Being together so intimately made those things so insignificant. When someone knew your very soul, what was the point in worrying about your body? Any high he'd ever felt from the weed or coke couldn't even come close to what he was feeling now.

A breathless wine escaped Monty's throat when Vitya pulled out... As predicted, he was sore and aching, yet no longer having something to squeeze down on made the feeling worse. He bit his lower lip, teeth chattering so it felt like he would tear right through his own lip, and tears filled his eyes as all of his muscles tensed in reaction to the sudden emptiness.

Vitya —

Vitya was swimming in endorphins, waves of post-coital bliss enveloping him. He loved reveling in the feeling, emptying himself of all stress and dumping it into feral, intense fucking. It was better than any drug, more addicting by far. Ripping those broken moans out of Monty- if that feeling could be shot into him on demand, he'd relapse instantly.

Monty's face went from bliss to agony in moments, Vitya having to breathe and watch a moment till it clicked what was going on. "Hey, hey." Vitya hushed and hummed, the hand he had still holding one of Monty's legs letting go to cup his cheek. He coaxed Monty to look at him, thumb wiping away the tears he was never going to tell Monty he was letting out.

"You did amazing. You're alright." Vitya encouraged. He had only seen sub-drop a few times back when we worked the streets, making himself seem smaller by getting out from between Monty's thighs and lying next to him on the bed, skin to skin. "You were so fucking good. Just breathe for me." He looked around the room, locating the nearest blanket to cover Monty immediately, wanting him to be comfortable quickly. He didn't panic or ridicule, instead sliding his fingers into Monty's hair as a calming, continuous motion.

"Keep breathing." He instructed, official in his voice but not so much as to sound like work. "It's been a bit, huh?" he sympathized, not minding in the slightest. There were many reasons to drop after sex; he could only imagine the emotional cocktail Monty must be in. They skipped all the normal steps and went right to sex. If anything, Vitya should have expected aftercare, and a lot of it.

"Focus on me. I've got you." Vitya kept going, reaching an arm over him to pull him closer while the other kept its petting pattern.

Monty—

Monty blinked, trying to clear his vision to follow Vitya's voice and its instructions, but he couldn't think complexly enough to wipe them away himself. Instinctually, Monty knew, if he could only follow and find that voice, he'd be safe. But, it was like trying to hear underwater with the way it was muffled, none of the words making sense. In the midst of their marathon, it felt like floating on the ocean. This felt like drowning without the wherewithal to swim for the surface.

Using his fingers, Monty reached out for Vitya's skin, pawing at him the second he moved away, but was rewarded with a soft blanket and Vitya sliding back down beside him and beginning a comforting touch he could focus on and follow out of the darkness.

A hum of pleasure escaped as Monty's tears began to slow, and he found it a little easier to catch his breath as the words floating in the air finally made it to his ears…

'You did amazing.' 'You were so fucking good.'

The words were a balm to his tight, aching body, and he moaned like there was no greater pleasure in life.

There was his Vitya! That was what he was searching for! He was so close! He was going to be rescued! He'd done something right, and his Vitya had come back! He'd finally done something to deserve the love he desperately needed and wanted!

Monty curled into Vitya as he was pulled closer to the warmth and the familiar scent. Reflexively, he moved slowly to rest his cheek against Vitya's chest. It was instinctive, involuntary, it was just where he belonged, plain and simple.

"You- you- I-"

Monty didn't know what he was going to say, well, he did, he just couldn't find the words in his muffled brain…

Vitya —

Monty curled into his chest like he would slip into nothing. Like he was a wisp on the wind, a figment of his imagination he'd lose if he stopped touching him. The guilt of turning Monty into this chewed his insides as the blanket settled, and their bodies melted into each other.

"Shh, it's alright." He said, bringing a hand to rest in Monty's hair. "You don't have to talk." His fingers went in and out, playing with the strands in a slow, rhythmic time.

Vitya was beside himself. He never thought he'd see Monty again, let alone fuck him. Any other pair of exes would fuck and leave. Not them. This wasn't just sex, but a conversation. Talking between bodies, remembering each other, saying 'nice to see you again' with heavy breathing and the sliding of skin. Now, with Monty crashing after reaching peaks Vitya could only guess since his last climb, the talk was different.

'Welcome home. I missed you.'

Vitya's eyes closed, not realizing until they shut he had been shushing the entire time, like a lullaby. He was soothing Monty, bringing him back to a place where pleasure was just that, where the dark side of high-chasing didn't come to bite them.

"You have me. I'm not going anywhere." He assured in a whisper, as if he spoke too loudly, he’d jolt Monty back to reality. That he just fucked the man who left him behind, the man who sold his soul for a paycheck, as if a day hadn't passed between them. It was perfect. He hadn't felt this content since... since he left. Vitya revealed this; he was heir, and Monty was in his arms. He couldn't be happier. Vitya buried his face in his hair, keeping Monty's cheek to his chest so he could hear the steady heartbeat, still coming down from their passion. "Fate brought you back to me, I can't... I can't believe it."

Monty —

The healthy, regular cadence of Vitya’s heart beating beneath Monty’s cheek, the rhythmic slide of fingers through his hair, and the mellifluous shushing worked like a metronome to comfort Monty. It was strong and reassuring, just like the expanse of muscle he was clinging to now that Vit was no longer skin and bone.

While this new frame was foreign, the natural scent of Vitya was still the same, his long limbs still wrapped around him perfectly, his hair was still soft and fiery red, his fingers still long and delicate, still able to play him like Monty was the finest fiddle, until the pleasure reached its crescendo.

“Always yours, always mine,” Monty whispered raspily, trying to convey he had let go of any anger or betrayal he’d felt when Vitya left, but had kept the love between them close to his heart, tucked away, ready for the moment he always hoped would happen and now finally came to fruition: Vitya’s return.

Monty’s throat was dry, and his voice was strained from the roars of pleasure and the continuing that had followed. But, he simply didn’t want to break the serenity by coughing and clearing his throat, so he let it be. He leaned up and placed sweet kisses along Vitya's collarbone.

“Thank you for coming home.”

Vitya —

Vitya, with his body pulsing and his mind racing, did the only thing he could think to do, as Monty clung to him, kissing the skin across his chest and, above all, thanking him. After all he had done to ruin him, his life, his future, Monty was overjoyed they were together again. He couldn't help but agree. Night after lonely night back home, all behind him as Monty demanded he enter the future.

He angled his head to interrupt Monty's string of kisses to give one of his own. With lips locked, Vitya gave his own 'thank you.' Sensual and slow, he kissed him, unlike what they had done before. There was no violence or claiming in his motion, only love left, unless only to give it this way.

It was with this that he felt a deep, hidden part of himself crack. He felt full of them, coming undone in ways he never thought real. A desire laid deep in him was leaking out, and he couldn't contain it any longer. Years in hibernation, getting to taste something he never thought he'd have again. Vitya broke the kiss apart to catch his breath.

"I'm never leaving you again," Vee whispered, desperate to prove he still deserved that home Monty had been keeping for him.

#monty