Chapter Text
The office was silent, bare of any other person at this late hour of the night. If one stopped to listen, they would be able to hear two heartbeats, going at different speeds. It hadn't been a surprise to Gustave to be called for such a late night meeting, but he had been shocked when he realised who exactly was behind this offer.
Renoir Dessendre was known as a kind man in a ruthless world, someone who actually cared for the people who worked under him and never launched himself in risky deals, always keeping a clear head on himself and only raised his voice when needed. Not even the most cut-throat tabloids could find something against him, the most gossip they managed to get out was when Renoir and Aline Dessendre divorced a few years back, but even then it was an amicable parting without a legal war.
Renoir was the perfect man, the perfect boss. Yet here he was, asking Gustave to save his company from bankruptcy. The irony of it.
Gustave looked at the papers Renoir presented him, following the numbers and the many legal restrictions of the deal. He hummed, flipping the documents over and over again just like his father had taught him to raise the tension. It had only been around six months since he had taken charge of his father's company, his council would have a stroke if they knew what he was doing right now without consulting them.
But Gustave had been curious when the call came. Renoir had been his father's longest friend, he had known the man since he was little, he was someone Gustave respected deeply, a person he had always admired, and now here he was, behind his desk, hands folded in his lap, eyes kind that didn't make transpire the nervousness he must be feeling.
Renoir was a handsome man, that was for sure. His greying hair was pulled back, matching with the cured beard that trailed on his cheeks and chin. His clever, silver eyes gleamed in the dim lights of his office, following the curve of Gustave's fingers as they grazed the documents. Renoir was one of those men who knew how to dress, with suits that just screamed 'old money' from afar but never looked gaudy. It was one of the few things Gustave's father had always envied him, and it never failed to entertain Gustave. Another time, he would have loved to peel that suit from him, entertaining one of his most hidden fantasies, but tonight didn't look like he was going to get lucky.
“Ninety million, Renoir?” Gustave pressed back against the cushion chair, eyes lifting to look at the man in front of him. He had looked so imposing when he was little, but now he was just another corporate man. How much the years had changed. “How much in debt are you to ask this much?”
The smile on Renoir's face froze but he tried to keep it cool. He wouldn't have been in that chair for so many years if he was so easily shocked. His hands flexed against the desk, spreading the fingers on the hard surface. “I've made some... ill-advised investments.”
Gustave snorted. “Ill-advised? More like a disaster.” He stood, fingers grazing the desk as he ignored the papers on it. He moved slowly, like a predator who had their eyes on a prey. Renoir watched him silently, wary, yet unable to tell him off. Gustave smiled and secretly enjoyed the power he had on the older man.
Behind Renoir, the lights of the cities shone brightly under the night sky, even up there in the highest floor of Renoir's company, Gustave could hear the sounds of a city that never went to sleep. Gustave took a moment to appreciate the various lights casting shadows over Renoir's face, how his expression looked more haunted and the bags under his eyes ran deeper. Gustave trailed his gaze on the desk, the computer with a million of unanswered mail, the phone placed face down. A single photo rested beside the screen, framed to show Renoir's happy family smiling at the camera.
The dark pit in Gustave's stomach grew deeper, a hunger he didn't know he had rose up, knotting his guts in a tight grip that didn't let him breathe. He wanted to see how far Renoir would go, how deep his desperation was. Would he throw everything away for his company? Even his most prized possession? Gustave had to bite back a grin. It was time to find out.
“I'm not like my father, I won't give you what you want for friendship...” Gustave's hands found the photo on Renoir's desk. Him and his family – a former wife and three children – smiling like they had no care for the world, each of them more beautiful than the other. But Gustave's eyes found the one he wanted easily, the joy of Renoir's eyes, the son that was about to follow his father's footsteps like Gustave had. Verso Dessendre stood close to Renoir with a half-smile playing on his lips and eyes matching with his father's. Gustave had seen him at many galas, but never found the time to talk to him, always busy to talk with his father's business partners. Now all he wanted was to sink his teeth in that smooth throat, to sully all that Renoir had left to call his. He raised his eyes, a dark glint shining in them. “I can be persuaded though.”
Renoir followed the line of his sight, to the way Gustave's thumb stroked his son's on the frame. His breath hitched in his chest, a strange feeling passed in his eyes, one that spiked Gustave's interest even more. Renoir shook his head, his calm facade melting away leaving him with wide eyes and desperate. “No. Not Verso.”
“Pity.” Gustave placed the photo down and reached up to touch Renoir's cheek. “Yet you need my money.”
“I'll give you anything else.” Renoir tried to say pitifully, desperately. Gustave placed his thumb over his mouth and tilted his head to the side. Renoir was a handsome man, one he had admired since he was young. He remembered watching from afar staying at his father's side, while they talked about deals and money and stuff Gustave hadn't understood at that time. He had been taken by his beauty and he still was. But Gustave had grown greedy with the years, he now wanted everything.
Gustave cupped his chin and leaned forward, his lips brushing over Renoir's without actually touching them. He felt Renoir shudder, his mouth parting in welcome, in a desperate move to save his favourite child. It made Gustave smile. So even the lion could learn to be tamed.
“Is it because you love your son so much you can't give him to me?” Gustave asked in a whisper, his words ringing in the silent office. Renoir held his breath, eyes opening wide to look at Gustave, but he was not done talking. “Or is it some other reason why you won't? Are you perhaps... jealous?”
The shudder that went through Renoir's body was the answer Gustave needed. He smirked and stepped back, watching as Renoir's expression turned from confused to horrified. Gustave clicked his nail on the expensive desk, eyes roaming over the documents and the computer, to end on the photo where Verso smiled completely unaware of his fate.
“One dinner.” Gustave said without missing a beat. “One dinner with your son. Nothing more, if he doesn't wish for it.” Renoir tensed, mouth open in protest knowing it wasn't going to be just dinner but he closed it when Gustave clicked his tongue. “You can come with him, if you want. You can wait outside the door.”
Like a dog. Gustave didn't need to say it, but Renoir heard him anyway. He stilled, eyes burning in fury at the obvious disrespect, but he knew better than anyone that Gustave was his only saving grace. He had seen the numbers, the Dessendre company would be done without his money. Renoir couldn't afford to tell him no and they both knew it.
And Gustave was going to use that to his advantage.
Everything had been prepared for tonight. The table shone for the care his maids had taken to clean it, the wine that cost more than a worker's monthly pay sitting on it already unclasped, its acidic aroma flying around the room. Two sets of plates and silver utensils were carefully placed on it – the ones Gustave took out only for certain occasions – waiting only to be used.
The rest of the room was rather bare, black furniture was pressed against the creamy walls and a single piece of art was lingering, a painting of a red rose clasped in a beautiful, smooth hand. It was a rather simple piece, not one of those expensive ones that rich people fought into auctions. Gustave was rather fond of it. He spent days looking at it while the sounds of the city reached him from afar, but he was deaf to it all. He had been restless all day waiting for this night and he would enjoy it fully.
“Gustave,” Alan, his butler, entered in the room without knocking – the only man who was allowed to do that, “The Dessendre are here.”
Gustave could hardly the grin that threatened to escape him, but from the frown on Alan's face he hadn't been able to do that well. “Let them in. But allow them to linger outside, if they wish. I'm curious about what they will say.”
The way Alan's lips twitched made Gustave aware he didn't like the sick game Gustave had chosen to play. Thankfully Gustave didn't pay him to think.
Alan stepped back and closed the door behind him. Gustave took a seat and brought up his phone. The cameras he had installed in his home showed all the angles of his house. He watched in trepidation how Renoir followed Alan slowly, the cane in his hand hitting the floor with loud thuds. He was dressed impeccably, in a black suit with specks of gold on his shoulders. But that wasn't what made Gustave perk up in his seat.
Behind him, Verso trailed silently, hands clasped behind his back. He had an easy smile on his face – so similar to Renoir it hurt – and the dark suit matched his father's like he wanted to be his younger copy. Gustave could see how nervous he was from up here, despite trying not to be. He couldn't wait to sink his teeth in that throat, to taste the nervous sweat on his tongue.
They stopped in front of the room Gustave was waiting in and stared at the closed door in dread. Alan excused himself and told Verso to enter when he was ready before he walked away. Renoir waited until Alan was gone before taking a step close to Verso, his hand curled around his son's forearm in comfort. He spoke softly, so gently even the mics Gustave had installed had difficulty to pick it up, but Gustave could hear enough.
“It's only a dinner.” Renoir said through clenched teeth in what they all knew was a lie. “He will be kind.”
“I'm doing this for you, papa.” Verso whispered back, leaning against Renoir's shoulder. He was trembling and Gustave smiled at the irony. He looked like a deer in lion's arms. Did Verso realise in how much danger he was?
“I know. I'm sorry.” Renoir cupped his cheeks gently, thumbs tracing the lines of his cheekbones. “I'll be waiting outside. This is the last thing I'll be asking of you. I promise.” That was a lie and they all knew it.
Verso answered, but his voice was so soft the microphones didn't pick it up. It was alright, Gustave had seen enough. He switched his phone off and stood up to pour the wine in the glasses, staring at the red liquid filling them until they were half-full.
The door opened timidly, but Gustave didn't immediately look up. He allowed Verso's eyes to rest on him then to roam around the room before he shyly took a step inside. Only when the door closed behind him did Gustave lift his eyes.
Verso was even more beautiful in person. Of course, Gustave had already seen him before, but this was the first time he had seen him alone. The light that entered from the window made his silver eyes look brighter, the cut of his jaw was sharper than it was in the photos. Gustave didn't hide how his eyes followed the shape of his body, down to his shiny shoes before they trailed up again. He ignored how Verso shuddered uncomfortably and tilted his head towards the seat in front of him.
“Don't be so nervous, I don't bite.” Gustave showed his teeth, eyes glinting. “If you don't want to.”
Verso shuffled his feet nervously, one corner of his mouth lifting up in a mockery of a smile. “Not even a hello, uh?” His eyes met with Gustave, there was a nervousness in them but Gustave admired his courage in looking at him without faltering – there were more powerful men that couldn't. “Why me?” He said it so softly Gustave wouldn't have heard him if he wasn't focused on him.
“Why not you?” Gustave stood. He reached up and took the wine glass in his hand, clutching it tightly. The red wine sloshed into it as he walked around the table and stopped beside Verso. The other man watched him warily, eyes following him distrustful. “You're handsome, smart, funny when you want to be... what's there not to want?”
Verso pursued his lips, choosing not to answer. Gustave took the other glass and closed the distance between them slowly. At every step the tension in Verso's back grew and it was a miracle he didn't bolt when Gustave breached his personal space. Gustave smirked and leaned the glass towards Verso.
Silver eyes trailed on the glass before they returned on Gustave's face. He clearly didn't trust Gustave not to have put anything inside, but they both knew Verso could hardly refuse anything Gustave threw at his way. Slowly and making sure their fingers didn't brush, Verso took the glass out of Gustave's hand and brought it to his nose.
He smelled the wine and a small spark of appreciation lightened up his eyes. Gustave raised his own glass and waited until Verso did the same to click them together.
“To this special night.” Gustave added before taking a sip, letting the burn of alcohol fill his mouth.
“Yeah...” Verso muttered and took a large gulp like he wanted to forget the reason he was there.
Gustave shrugged and returned to his seat. He sat down and clicked a quick message to Alan through his phone before he lifted his head again. “Come sit, Verso.”
Snapping out his haze, Verso hesitated a brief moment before he took place on the chair in front of Gustave. He looked at the empty plate then at the silver utensils, before his eyes fell on Gustave again. Gustave knew he was a handsome man, he took care of himself thoroughly. He cured his beard every day, snipping the messy hair that threatened to escape his moustache, his curls looked soft and healthy and he knew he looked younger than he was. He had a lean, strong body and he had made sure to put on his blue suit to empathise his thin waist. It had worked, he had seen Verso's gaze lingering.
Alan entered in the room with a trail of food. Behind him, he saw Renoir anxiously looking inside and sent him a smirk before the door closed behind Alan. The food looked delicious, Gustave had chosen light, cold meals not to upset anyone's stomach. Alan explained them better than Gustave would have ever been able to, but he was too busy staring at Verso to hear the words.
Verso wasn't looking at him, he pretended to be interested in the plate but he clearly wasn't listening too. He was too nervous, he kept fidgeting in his seat and bit his lips until they became raw and bloody. He seemed to deflate when Alan finished speaking and took the utensils in shaky hands. Gustave didn't force him in mindless chatter, he ate slowly, chewing every piece of food with gusto and made a mental note to raise his chef's salary before swallowing.
The meal was a three-course meal, Gustave knew Verso could hardly take more for how much he was shaking. Alan pretended not to notice the strange air around them, doing his job perfectly without hesitating even once. Still, Gustave felt his judging gaze on him, but he chose not to care.
After the dessert was finished, Alan pulled the cart with the empty plates away. Gustave's glass had been refilled twice, while Verso was already on his fourth glass, his cheeks had become rosy and his eyes watered a little at the intoxication. This time, Gustave didn't look towards the door, where he knew Renoir was trying to take a peak and focused all of his attention on Verso.
“Dinner is over.” Verso muttered, his lips gleaming for the gelato he had just eaten. He hadn't eaten much through the evening, he had taken a few bites of everything before pushing the plate to a side and focused on the wine. Only the dessert seemed to have loosened the knot in his stomach, the man clearly had a sweet-tooth he wanted to keep hidden but failed to do so. Gustave thought it was adorable.
“That it is.” Gustave stood gracefully, cleaning his lips gently with a napkin before he placed it carelessly on the table. Clutching his glass in his hand, he moved closer to Verso without hurry, taking one careful step in front of the other, like a predator ready to pouch on their prey. Verso tensed at each step, his eyes followed his movements unblinking, hands curling against his pants. He tried to play it cool by taking small breaths, but he could not conceal the tension in his jaw.
Gustave stopped right beside him, looking down with his mouth curled into a smirk, wine sloshing in his hand. He pressed his thighs against the edge of the table and took a sip, letting the tension raise until Verso felt the urge to look away. Gustave reached forward with his mechanical hand, the cold brush of metal against Verso's skin made him flinch but Gustave didn't feel offended by it. Instead he pushed one stray, dark lock behind his ear and let his hand drop back on his side.
“I do wonder,” Gustave began, eyes following the curve of Verso's neck, “What did you think when your papa asked you to whore yourself out for the good of the company?”
There was a tic in Verso's jaw, but he refused to raise his eyes. “It's just dinner.” He said stubbornly, spitting the words out like they were acid, like he wanted to believe that himself.
“No, it isn't.” Gustave leaned forward, close enough that Verso could smell the wine in his breath. “I know it. You know it. Renoir knows it.” His lips ran along the edge of Verso's cheek until he pressed them over the shell of his ear. “Just like a lamb to slaughter.”
Verso shuddered, eyes closing tightly. There was fear in his expression but he also gave off a sense of... arousal. Gustave chuckled, teeth teasing the skin before he pulled back once again.
Verso let out a loud breath like he had been submerged in water. He stared at Gustave, eyes open wide in both apprehension and anticipation. Gustave leaned back, head tilted to the side, lips curled in amusement.
He was going to enjoy this. Immensely.
“Beg me to save you.” Gustave started and ignored the offended frown that fell on Verso's face. “Beg me for your family, your company, your father. Tell me you need me. Say the words. Come on.”
Verso parted his mouth, his pride stopped the words in his throat. Gustave took a sip of the wine, waiting. It was so entertaining to watch Verso crumble, to try keep his innocent facade on. But he had always known what would have happened once he had taken a step in this room. This was a simple reminder, a necessary humiliation.
“Pride will not save you or your father.” Gustave reminded him and from the way Verso leaned back like he had been slapped, the words cutting deeply.
Humiliation danced on his face mixed with anger. He stared up at Gustave in rage, teeth gritting together. He could walk away now, Gustave would not stop him. But they all knew the consequences if he did so.
In the end, Gustave always got what he wanted.
Verso's shoulders dropped and his eyes fell on the floor. “Please,” The word came out in a whisper, so soft Gustave wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't so close. “Please accept the deal my father proposed. I'll... I'll do anything.”
Gustave hummed, letting those words fill his entire being. He finished the wine then let the glass drop and shatter on the floor. Verso jumped at the sudden sound and stared at the shards that now covered the white marble.
“You beg so nicely.” Gustave made a wishful sound, hands spreading on the table, twitching to touch the man in front of him. “Maybe I should keep you like this, begging for me. A collar around your neck to complete the look.”
Verso bit his lower, humiliation and anger on his features, emotions he couldn't keep out of his voice. “You want me to become a pet?”
“No, that would be too boring.” Gustave waved one hand dismissively before he settled it on Verso's cheek. “I could make you one. Have you on your knees for me, drugged out of your mind.” He ignored the flinch Verso did at the mention of drugs and how his eyes went to the glass he had drunk all night. “But what would the point of that be? No, I think it's more fun if you want it yourself.”
Verso parted his mouth, brows furrowing. “That's not going to happen.”
“No?” Gustave took a step forward and nudged Verso's legs to part with his knee. Verso tried to make some resistance, but lost the fight pretty quickly. Gustave stood between his thighs, his mechanical hand dropping on Verso's crotch to give it a light squeeze. “You should tell that to your cock then.”
A humiliated flush spread across Verso's cheeks. A sob escaped his lips, a tear ran down across his cheek. Gustave caught it with the tip of his thumb and brought it to his lips. He tasted the salt that spread on his tongue, mixing with the wine that lingered on his mouth. As a reward, he squeezed Verso's cock again and felt it twitch under him.
“Yes,” Gustave whispered before he dropped on his knees, “I think I'm going to enjoy this.”
Verso's eyes snapped open in surprise. A scream was lodged in his throat when he saw Gustave there, kneeling on the glass he had broken, looking up at him through long eyelashes. Gustave chuckled, hands going to unbuckle his belt and brought the zip down.
“Why are you so surprised?” Gustave's fingers dipped into the grey underwear where he could see the shape of Verso's dick. “I do enjoy the taste of a good dick.”
“I-I thought-” Verso bit his lower lip to muffle a moan when Gustave pulled his underwear down. It was one of the prettiest cocks Gustave had ever seen. It was thick, on the longer side, curling towards his stomach with a flushed tip that was dripping pre-cum. There was a engorged vein running along the length, pulsing every time Gustave breathed on it.
“You thought you were going to do all the work?” Gustave chuckled, hands pressing on Verso's thighs to keep him still. “Lucky for you, I do enjoy pulling apart my partners. Try not to cum too soon, okay? I really, really want this cock to fill me up... but if I have to, I won't turn away the opportunity to bend you on this table.”
Verso sucked in a breath and opened his mouth to speak, but Gustave was done with what he had to say. He leaned his head down taking a deep sniff of Verso's natural scent, nose brushing against the dark pubic hairs around the base, then he opened his mouth and let his tongue slide out to trail a long, wet lick on the side of Verso's cock. The touch was so surprising Verso let out a shout, but was quick to press a palm on his mouth to muffle it. Gustave clicked his tongue.
“No, keep that hand down. I want to hear you.” Gustave said sternly, rubbing his cheek against Verso's cock.
Verso whimpered. His eyes moved on the closed door, eyes filling up with tears. “B-But papa is-”
“He knew what he was signing up to when he came. Drop that hand.” Gustave's lips curled up pleased when Verso did just as he was ordered. “Good. Let your papa hear you now.”
He didn't allow Verso to answer. He opened his mouth and swallowed him whole. Verso gasped, a moan ripping out his throat. “Merde- holy shit...!” He curled his back, hands trailing on the back of Gustave's head. He rested them there, unsure if he could touch Gustave or not.
Gustave chuckled and pulled back, his tongue running along the tip. “You can touch, but don't pull my hair, okay?” Gustave kissed the side of Verso's cock and sent a wink in his direction. “Tell me if you're about to cum. I'll be very angry if you come without permission.”
Gustave waited until Verso gave a small nod before he returned to wrap his mouth around the dick in front of him. His hands closed around Verso's ankles, fingers stroking the skin slowly. He could feel the glass digging into his knees, the pain sending shocks through his spine while he bobbed his head slowly up and down. It was almost comforting to be there, to smell Verso's musk up close, letting the ache of his jaw be a numb sensation that lingered in the back of his head.
Verso shook under him, his fingers caressed his hair before they dropped on Gustave's shoulders, squeezing then letting go, afraid to be too much, to be punished. He was adorable how much he wanted to be good even in this situation.
Gustave dragged his tongue along the side, slurping the spit that had formed on the corners of his mouth. Verso made a sound that sounded like he was being killed, nails dug in Gustave's shoulders as he tried to be still but utterly failed to do so.
Gustave closed his eyes and let the peace he set being a lull. He wondered what was Renoir thinking outside the door. Was he jealous? Of Verso? Of him? The room wasn't soundproof and the moans Verso let out echoed outside. Gustave would spend the next days replaying both what happened inside here and Renoir's reaction. The way he sat still on the couch Gustave had placed just outside the door, hands clutched on his thigh until his knuckles turned white, how he kept his expression neutral but his mouth tickled every time Verso let out a particular high moan.
“G-Gustave-” Verso's hands patted his shoulder, his voice strained. “I can't- I'll cum-”
Gustave sighed and pulled off Verso's dick. A string of saliva connected his lips with Verso's length. His lips burned, his jaw ached, yet he took the time to look up, to see Verso staring down at him with flushed cheeks. His breath came out loudly and tremors rocked his body. Gustave winked at him and pressed a last kiss on Verso's tip before he stood.
Pieces of glass fell on the floor from his pants, he could feel his skin tingling from where they had cut him, but everything was dull in contrast of the aching he felt between his legs. Gustave petted Verso's cheek and smiled when Verso leaned against his palm.
“Such a pretty, obedient boy, how have you survived until now?” Gustave wondered, pressing his thumb against his lower lip. “More for me, I suppose.” Gustave chuckled before he dropped his hand on his neck, stroking it gently. “Up.”
A tattered breath came out Verso's clenched teeth. He rose slowly, knees trembling. His eyes were blown wide, the black swallowing the silver. His dick curved in towards his stomach, wet with spit and pre-cum. Gustave took his hands and pulled him towards the table. Verso followed him like a lost puppy, fingers twitching against his.
“Now, we're going to have some fun together, okay?” Gustave waited until Verso gave a jerky nod before he let go of his hands. With a quick movement, he cleared the table from plates and glasses, letting them smash on the floor.
A flash of surprise broke in Verso's eyes, but he said nothing. Gustave unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down on his knees. Blood trickled on his skin where the glass had cut, but the pain barely bothered him. Instead he kicked his pants away and turned towards the now clear table, letting Verso stare at his ass for a few seconds, then threw one of his legs on the table.
He heard Verso take a sharp breath behind him and smirked. He knew what Verso was looking at, Gustave had put it on just for him. The end of the diamond plug glistened in the dim lights, Gustave had taken great pleasure in feeding it to his hole this afternoon, thinking about how Verso's dick would feel inside of him. Now he was finally going to find out.
“Do you want a written permission?” Gustave looked behind his shoulder, lips pulling into a smile as Verso's eyes were firmly settled on the plug without blinking. “Be careful in taking it out. It's a real diamond. It would be a shame to scratch it.”
Verso swallowed loudly. He was so easy to manipulate, a prey that ended right where the predator wanted him to be. Gustave licked his lips and beckoned him closer. Verso went, all of his previous hesitation forgotten, hands up to reach him. They settled on his hips before they trailed down on his ass to cup it. A shiver went down Gustave's spine at the scorching feeling, Verso's pads massaged his skin, before they gently grasped the end of the plug.
A moan left him when the bigger section was pulled out, leaving his hole twitching, his back arched. Carefully Verso placed the plug beside Gustave, making sure it wouldn't roll down on the scattered glass that covered the floor. Gustave grasped the edge of the table, eyes slitting close just enough to see Verso grasp his cock in his hand and guide it towards his entrance. He wanted to laugh, it had been so easy to make the Dessendre heir eager for this, he wondered what Renoir would think of this.
The first push was heavenly, Gustave had already known it was big when he had put it in his mouth, but now that he felt it enter inside of him was even better. Gustave let out a pleased sigh and lamented the fact he had chosen to keep his shirt and jacket on. He would have loved to feel Verso's chest press against his back, but he had been too eager to play with his new toy.
“Go on, do I need to tell you how to do everything?” Gustave chuckled, squeezing his hole tightly around Verso's dick. “If I had known I had to do all the work, I would have tied you on the chair and ridden you myself.”
Verso let out a whimper against his ear, but Gustave felt him throb inside of him. He let out small laugh and leaned his head against Verso's. “We can do that another time if you like the idea.” Gustave whispered huskily, voice dripping with arousal. “But right now I'll be very angry if you don't start to move those hips.”
Verso whined again, but did as he was told. He pulled his dick back and slammed it inside, letting it fill Gustave's hole once more. A gasp left Gustave's lips, nails dug into the table until he felt them break. Verso breathed heavily in his ear, slapping his hips in a furious pace. It was like a beast had been unleashed, everything Verso had kept inside was now unfurling. Gustave loved it.
Verso's cock grinded against his hole, pushing against Gustave's prostate until Gustave had to curl his back against the table. He moaned and encouraged Verso to go faster, harder, until the table legs scraped against the floor and his toes curled in pleasure.
“Like this. Good boy.” Gustave gasped, lips parted to let out a series of pants. His lips curled up into a satisfied smile, his forehead pressed against the cold surface of the table. A knot formed in his stomach, a familiar flame ignited in the lower abdomen.
Verso whined in his ear, his thrusts had become more erratic, his grip tightened even more on his hips. Gustave was going to enjoy tracing the bruises in the next days. Verso's forehead pressed against his shoulder and let out a whimper. “I-I'm- please-”
“Beg for it.” Gustave turned his head towards Verso, a grin widening on his lips as he saw the desperation on Verso's face. “I know you can do it.”
Verso sucked his lower lip, a bead of sweat rolled down his temple to his chin. “Please. Please. Please.” He lowered his head until he pressed their foreheads together. “Let me cum. I need to. Please.”
Gustave let out a laugh and tilted his head back until he pressed a bruising kiss on his lips. “Good enough... this time.”
The words made something inside of Verso unleash. He let out a loud groan and pushed his cock harder in Gustave's hole until the table made a creaking sound under them. A loud gasp left him and his hips stuttered until they came to a stop, a name leaving his lips so quietly Gustave wouldn't have picked up if Verso wasn't speaking in his ear.
“Papa.”
The name clicked something inside Gustave. The inferno in his guts spread until his cock pumped cum out the tip. His orgasm was sudden, he couldn't even scream. White stripes covered his shirt and the table, dripping all over him. Gustave shivered as the sparks of his orgasm went down and he was left boneless and satisfied on the table.
He felt Verso tremble behind him before he pulled back suddenly, his dick slipping out Gustave's hole, leaving the cum to trail down on his thigh. Gustave blinked and looked back and was met with Verso's horrified face.
His silver eyes had widened and a hand was pressed against his mouth. He was so shocked he didn't even tuck himself back in, his cock limped against his leg still sprouting pre-cum. Gustave turned around, not caring about the cum that dripped from his hole or the one that dirtied his stomach and gave him a lazy grin.
“So... Renoir?” Gustave's smile widened when Verso flinched and looked down in shame.
“No- Don't- Don't tell him-” Verso's ongoing panic would have fun to poke at any other time, but Gustave was tired, his limbs were still recovering from the orgasm he just had, so he waved a hand to make Verso stop whining.
“It'll be our secret.” Gustave winked at him, knowing he was going to use this knowledge sooner or later. His words didn't comfort Verso, but at least he had stopped trembling. Gustave wondered if this man knew that his pathetic desire for his own father was reciprocated. Probably not.
Sooner or later he was going to use this, but now he was still floating in his orgasm to make plans. Later.
Gustave took the plug that miraculously hadn't fallen down from the table and let it dangled in front of him. “Put it back, Verso.”
The order snapped Verso out his thoughts. Tentatively he took a step forward and took the plug in his shaky hands. He eyed Gustave warily, but Gustave didn't make any move and just laid back, waiting. Almost clumsy, Verso placed the tip of the plug against Gustave's hole and slowly pushed it in. Gustave let out a small moan when the bigger part breached in and gasped satisfied when he felt the base touch his rim.
He looked down at Verso who was staring at the shiny diamond at the end of the plug like it was speaking to him and had tucked himself back in his pants when Gustave wasn't paying attention. Gustave grasped him from the back of his neck and smashed their lips together in one last, passionate kiss that left Verso gasping for air.
“That was satisfying, Verso. Let your papa know I'll have the papers signed tomorrow.” Gustave pulled his pants on after finding them scattered on the floor and decided he wasn't going to clean his shirt from the stains of cum. “Come on, let me walk you out.”
Verso looked like he wanted to do anything but that, still he wisely kept his mouth shut and followed Gustave when he began to walk towards the closed door at the end of the room. Verso's cum sloshed pleasantly inside of him at every step, Gustave would sleep soundly cradling his stomach after this.
When he opened the door, he was not surprised to see Renoir sitting in the same position he had left him. They shared one look, Renoir's knuckles were white for how much they were gripping his cane and his mouth was curled down in a frown. Renoir's eyes ran from his tussled hair to the stains on his stomach, his eyebrows furrowed more at every passing second. Renoir stood from the couch, never blinking, the hateful glare he sent to Gustave's way almost made him step back. This was the man Gustave sought for, the one that plagued his dreams during his loneliest nights.
A lion ready to attack now that Gustave had dared to touch his precious cub.
The moment lasted only a second as Verso stumbled out the room. Immediately, Renoir's attention turned to him and his eyes softened, taking a worried light. Gustave swallowed his irritation and stepped back to let Verso out.
“Verso...!” Renoir lifted one hand towards his son and took a step forward, but Verso had already crossed the distance and fell into his arms. Renoir let out a loud huff, his fingers trailed up to press in Verso's hair and turned his head to bury his nose there, taking in his natural scent and the smell of sex.
“Papa...” Verso whined low and needy, wrapping his arms around Renoir's waist. Renoir spoke to him in a low voice and Verso answered in the same tone. Gustave watched them, he crossed his arms under his chest pressed his back against the wall.
He could still taste Verso in the back of his mouth and felt the way his dick had shaped his insides. Gustave knew he had won, yet the greed that slumbered inside of him was waking up, desiring even more.
He allowed the hug to last for a few seconds, drinking the sight in front of him before he cleared his throat. Verso stiffened while Renoir glared up.
“Alan will accompany you out.” Gustave said, a smile pulling his lips up. “A taxi should be waiting for you.”
Renoir opened his mouth to say something, but he closed it and gave a stiff nod. Gustave wondered what harsh words he was swallowing. It must be difficult for him to accept that he needed Gustave even after this.
“I'm sure our partnership will be... illuminating.” Gustave's grin could cut glass. “And Verso? Let's do this again. I had fun.”
Verso didn't answer, he didn't even turn. But from the way his shoulders tensed, Gustave knew he had heard him.
“That's not going to happen.” Renoir growled, turning his body in front of Verso to protect him while he pushed him gently towards the corridor they had come in.
Gustave smiled once more, but chose not to answer. He watched father and son take their leave, Verso leaning against Renoir, seeking his touch and Renoir gave it to him freely.
No matter what Renoir said, Gustave knew he had them in the palm of his hands. And next time, he wasn't going to be satisfied with only the cub.
He was going to take the lion himself.