Chapter Text
At this point, Diavolo braced himself every time he passed a broom closet, a small anteroom, an alcove holding a statue. More often than not, a hand would reach out and grab him and he’d be pulled into the secluded space so Voiello could stutter out a “May I kiss you, please?”
Diavolo always obliged, of course, how couldn’t he? Voiello was so cute when he was needy. He never let himself indulge, however. Diavolo frowned. Voiello would always push him away when they got too passionate, jumping back like he’d been slapped, speeding off down the corridor. Time to flip the script a bit.
Diavolo knew Voiello usually took this corridor on his way back from lunch. He ducked into an alcove and waited. Soon enough, he heard the familiar click-clack of Voiello’s shoes on the cobblestone. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Voiello’s pellegrina.
“What in God’s name-“
“Hey there, lover boy.” Diavolo grinned like a Cheshire cat.
“Yes, yes, hello. What on Earth are you doing?! You scared the shit out of me-“ Diavolo silenced his Cardinal with a finger to his mouth. Voiello’s eyes widened.
“Oh, so you can pull me into enclosed spaces and ask for a kiss, but when I do it, it’s a problem?” Diavolo tutted good-naturedly. Voiello started to mount a defense, but Diavolo shushed him again.
“Save your apologies. There’s much more enjoyable things you can use your mouth for.” Voiello squeaked. Diavolo crowded him into a corner. He took Voiello’s face in his hands and kissed his cheeks, then his forehead. “Mio dolce cardinale.” The young man purred, pecking his Cardinal on the lips.
“G-get off of me!” Voiello tried to muscle his way out of Diavolo’s grasp, but the tall man held firm, nuzzling into Voiello’s neck. The cardinal smelled really good, like bergamot and jasmine.
“Haven’t seen much of you today, Angelo. Missed you.” Diavolo kissed the mole on Voiello’s cheek and he shuddered. “Won’t you stay with me, just for a little while?” He batted his eyes at his Cardinal.
“I… I guess I can spare a few minutes…” Voiello surrendered. Diavolo grinned and pressed his lips against Voiello’s. The cardinal kissed back immediately. If this was a sin, why did it feel so good?
As Diavolo pulled away, Voiello chased his mouth. He always did, and it always gave the younger man a bit of a thrill. “Are you okay, Angelo? You’re trembling.”
Voiello hadn’t noticed, too caught up in the feeling of soft lips on his own. Did Diavolo get a new chapstick? He tasted like a peach Bellini. “Wha- me? Yes, I’m quite alright. Can you… eh… kiss me again?”
“Has anyone ever kissed you… more deeply?” Diavolo murmured, softly scratching the base of Voiello’s neck.
“I don’t follow.” Voiello’s brow furrowed. Voiello didn’t know much about the ways of the flesh, besides the very basics. This was all new to him. His pace quickened at what “more deeply” could possibly mean.
“Have you… how do I say this… French kissed someone?”.
“Well… eh, considering I’ve never kissed anyone but you… no, I can’t say I have. What’s a French kiss?” Voiello asked.
Diavolo took a small step back, trying to piece together a definition. His brows knitted together.
“Ah. Well. Uh… a French kiss is when you kiss someone with your mouth open… and your tongues touch.”