Angel Dust

It's too bad about whats-his-name, Valentino thinks to himself, but he doesn't feel bad at all about Marco. He understands, though, why a man - any man - would risk it all for something like this: a beautiful boy staring up at him with pretty eyes and a soft mouth, blond hair slightly mussed and curling loosely by his ears. It must have been divine intervention that led Val to that back alley two nights ago, or something like it.

Valentino's lips part slightly, tongue licking at his back molars for a moment as he contemplates the consequences of doing whatever the fuck he wants. Truthfully, he doesn't believe there are many, if any, at all. He's damn good at keeping secrets, even better at spinning believable lies - and what the Don doesn't know can't fucking hurt him. It wouldn't be the first thing he's kept from his boss, probably won't be the last, and Val would be a liar if he said he didn't like the thrill of having something he absolutely shouldn't, right under his boss's nose.

Still, he teases, thumb ghosting up the center of Anthony's chin, pad teasing at his plush bottom lip. God, Valentino's a sucker for that smile. "What would your Daddy think?"

Like Valentino gives a fuck at this point. The original plan had been to take this slowly, but how long has he watched Anthony from afar? How long as he kept his distance? He's literally killed to get him here. Valentino thinks he's waited long enough.

He bends at the waist and lifts Anthony's chin and moves his thumb out of the way so he can fit their mouths together almost perfectly. Long fingers shift to frame the edges of Anthony's jaw, and the kiss is firm, but not necessarily aggressive like one might expect from a man like Valentino. From a man who's waited years to taste forbidden fruit.