Will That Be All?

I - Will That Be All?

The bell on the door went "dingaling" as it opened and a man, maybe his mid twenties, stepped in, and went trolling right to the pharmaceutical section of the store. Kadar watched, blearily, focusing on anything but the textbook before him. His head fell forward to gaze at the page laid out before him. It was all some crazy moon-script to him, crap. He saw an auburn head ducking in and out of aisles for a couple of minutes.

Kadar blinked tiredly, watching the stranger's ass move in his tight jeans. How can his knees bend? Then he bent over and Kadar thought he could hear the fabric straining to contain that absolutely fabulous ass. He closed his eyes and his head thunked against the register tiredly.

"Hey, mi amico, you alive?" Said the customer, and Kadar jerked awake.

"U-uh-yeah, um, sorry," He said, rubbing his face. "Will that be al-" and he looked at the purchases. Condoms. Big condoms, the kind he thought his brother lied about needing all the time, because he certainly wasn't post-magnum material. There was lube, which didn't look like enough for the size condoms he was purchasing. Whipped cream (Kadar didn't know they carried whipped cream because it was always gone whenever he checked). A "Frozen Delite" (the huge, like, trillion ounce ones, that were slurpees no matter what you called them). Beer. Latex gloves- what. He tried not to think about the gloves.

"Hey?" The man said, waving his hand in front of Kadar's face, and he blinked.

"S-sorry, uhm, will that be all?" Kadar asked, ringing up the items.

The stranger thought about it, scratching his chin (which had a goatee on it. And it looked fucking hot. God, he was more tired than he though). "Eh. Sì, ciò che è buono. You need to see my ID?" At Kadar's hesitant 'yes,' he flipped open his wallet and dug out a drivers license. Federico Auditore, oh my god, he's Italian. He probably is hung like a fucking horse, Kadar thought, and tried not to blush while ringing up the condoms.

He thought he did amicably, even with- Federico- leering at him, winking, making suggestive comments.

"Um. Anything else, sir?" Kadar asked (mostly mumbled), as his boss ordered him to do every time. Federico's gaze swept the store and then landed on Kadar again.

"I'll have one of these to go," He leered.

"Excuse me?" Kadar blinked, maybe he was hallucinating and there wasn't a fucking gorgeous Italian stallion hitting on him at the register. Federico's hand went to fiddle with Kadar's name-tag and his hand swooped up to trace the pulse-point on Kadar's neck. His breathing hitched.

"One of these," His hand tightened briefly to indicate he wanted Kadar, holy shit. He had to be dreaming. It was what, three in the morning? Totally dreaming. "To go. Now, preferably." He leaned forward and nibbled Kadar's ear (and he almost melted), tongue flicking out briefly to taste skin. Kadar gasped. "I have a lovely car," Federico promised.

"Y-Yes! Um, yes. Yeah, it's... I get off soon," Kadar said, mentally slapping his forehead. My god you're so fucking awkward, Kadar.

"Me too," Federico said suggestively, and he took his purchases. "I'll be waiting,"

Kadar melted against the cigarette display, watching the ass sway as Federico exited. "Y-yeah."

Federico was waiting the half-hour that it took Kadar's replacement to arrive. In a BMW- a fucking BMW 750i, holy shit. Kadar was delirious in his dreams, or he was truly going to be fucked (oh god, he hoped,) in the back of a BMW. This was absolutely surreal. Federico was stretched back in the driver's seat and he looked up, beaming when he saw Kadar advance toward his car (maybe he was just ecstatic at the fact that Kadar was removing his horrible work shirt).

"Kadar," he breathed, when Kadar sat in the passenger seat, and he pulled Kadar forward by the front of his undershirt to kiss. Kadar melted again, reaching up to fist his hands in Federico's (red, he noted absently) shirt to keep him there. He felt a hand open his pants and Kadar's hand trailed over Federico's back (holy shit, Kadar thought giddily, feeling more awake every minute, he's fucking ripped). Federico's hand gripped his quickly hardening cock.

"I want to fuck you, Kadar, per favore?" He breathed into Kadar's ear, similar to the way he initially propositioned Kadar in the fucking store. Christ, he was getting harder.

"Ahhng," said Kadar, writhing against Federico, who moaned response. He tossed Kadar into the back (somehow he did. Kadar was fuzzy on the details of getting there, just that he was there), and after cursing up an Italian storm, Federico was in the back, shirt gone and pulling Kadar's legs and putting them around his waist, and god, he was opening his pants-

"Così bella, Kadar," He said, sultry and sexy and fuck he has body hair, and Kadar thought he had died and gone to Valhalla or some sex-heaven. "Tu mi appartieni," He hissed, and Kadar gasped again, unable to do anything but grip the upholstery- maybe that was the car door? Federico was a scramble of limbs as he worked to get his tight (tight) jeans off his hips and Kadar felt a bit panicked when he saw Federico's cock.

"Oh my God," Kadar squeaked, but that didn't deter the other man from trying to wrench Kadar from his pants and boxers. "You're putting that in me?"

Federico leered again. "That's the plan, pretty." He thrust his hips shallowly and just feeling that cock against himself just made it sexy. Er. Sexier. But Kadar was still oddly terrified. He heard Federico utter a victorious "ah-ha!" as he pushed down Kadar's jeans and undergarments. He was flipped and Kadar gasped as well.

"F-Federico, wait-" He tried, struggling, but the Italian man simply sealed their hips together, naked cock nested on his bare ass, frotting. Kadar groaned again helplessly. "H-how-ngh,"

Federico, bless him, understood what Kadar was trying to mangle out. "I will just-nn, yes-have to prepare you extensively." With that said, Federico moved away far enough to press a finger into Kadar, who moaned. My god, it's like four in the fucking morning and I'm going to get fucked in the back seat of an BMW at the parking lot of my work place by a sexy Italian with a huge cock. Kadar shuddered as he felt another finger in him, stretching, probing, and he bucked back on them.

He still couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that he was on his hands and knees with a stranger preparing his ass, but god, it felt amazing, and Kadar arched his back at the delicious third finger wedging inside of him, shooting pleasure up his spine like lightning. "Amico, you worry about this (shallow thrust against leg, hard cock throbbing) inside of you but you welcome my fingers?" Kadar flushed at the implications, not willing to admit he hadn't thought that far ahead, actually. He was pretty sure he hadn't thought any of this through. A quick, panicky thought of oh my god I'm turning into my brother passed through his head briefly before he felt the fingers withdraw.

Foil tearing, grunts and sulky comments in Italian, and he felt the latex press against his hole and a whole new surge of hysteria, "You ready, mia bella?" Federico panted, and Kadar looked over his shoulder at him- my god he's the epitome of manliness- his hair was disheveled and sweat trickled down his neck and into his chest hair (fuck Kadar thought inanely at the sight of it), and his jeans were down to mid-thigh, he looked utterly debauched and he hadn't even done anything yet. It's four in the morning and I am going to get fucked stupid, spurred by the thought, Kadar pushed himself back onto the head of the obscenely huge cock and both Kadar and Federico hissed in pleasure (maybe a bit of pain, too).

That wasn't one of my better ideas, Kadar thought, wincing as Federico gripped his hips with an iron-like grip, holding him still and controlling the penetration. He entered slowly, and Kadar (wide-awake by this point) felt restless and he tried to move, to get Federico to fill him faster.

"Cazzo, Kadar, please," He said, sounding rather strangled and breathless. "Tight. Christ," and then Kadar could feel Federico's jeans against the back of his thighs, and his shallow rotations were sending pleasure all through him. Kadar gripped the seat tightly, closing his eyes to absorb the fucking joy of the moment. Fucking god he's completely in me. Federico withdrew a bit, wheezing in effort, then pushed back in shortly, and Kadar saw stars again. The Italian tightened his hold on Kadar and pumped in again, harder, and again, causing him to cry out. Kadar heard fabric tear as he held tighter on the seat and pistoned against Federico with just as much fervor.

Federico pushed Kadar forward onto his arms and rammed into him steadily, and Kadar gasped, "Federico!" Before one of his clever hands reached around and fisted Kadar's erection, holding tight and making Kadar see even more stars. Oh my god I knew Italians were brilliant. "God, yes, j-just li-ke tha- fuck,"

"So tight, Kadar, god," And he slid out slowly and back in quickly, and Kadar writhed, gyrating his hips to bring Federico that much deeper. "So fucking tight, not going to last with you fucking squeezing me," Kadar's breathless laugh was interrupted by a gasp.

"N-not my fa-ult," He replied (mostly in moans) and by this point Federico had built up the rhythm so much he was slamming in and out of Kadar, making him see stars with every movement. Kadar felt his balls tighten and he whimpered, god, not yet, but the way Federico was thrusting and stroking and moaning against his back he couldn't help it, and he came, all over the interior of a fucking BMW (he still couldn't wrap his head around that). His spasming and moaning caused a final curse from Federico and with a last thrust he came, groaning something in Italian that Kadar could not understand.

He was boneless as Federico pulled out, but he still felt a twinge of pain at the exit, watching Federico remove the condom and stare at it, confused, before stuffing it in the bag Kadar gave him earlier for his groceries. He allowed Federico to move him to the front seat and allowed the man to drive him to Federico's home. Kadar stared at Federico at the next stoplight and grinned dumbly, and Federico returned the same stupid-looking grin and squeezed his knee.

It's five in the morning and I'm in love.