Ranger - Jericho's Boys #4 - Ch. 14-Seven (Patreon)

This is unbeta'd/unedited. I might tweak it later. I've read it too much to know whether I like it or not. I had to edit the D word again as the bots are out in full force. But we allk know that D word Seven likes to call Enzo by now.

“Get your game face on,” Enzo said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. 

They were standing in the empty hallway outside the smaller conference room. Seven was glad they weren’t using the larger one today. He had a visceral reaction to it. That’s where he and Enzo first met. Where Enzo had leaned into his space and called him a brat. Or maybe that part was all in his head? He’d jerked off so many times remembering that scenario in a dozen different ways that he could no longer discern fact from fiction. 

Seven snorted. “We’re interviewing our moms, not going up against a cartel.” \

Enzo’s face became a little black rain cloud as he grumped, “The last time we were meeting a cartel, you spent the whole time making fuck-me eyes at Thomas Mulvaney.” 

Seven bit back a smile. “Thomas Mulvaney is very married.” When Enzo glowered at him, face pouty, Seven couldn’t help but grin, shaking his head. “Okay, fine. I was only doing that to make you jealous. We were still in our weird not-friends but not more-than-friends phase. I didn’t know what I was going to do with you.” 

Enzo pushed him up against the door of the conference room, hand circling his throat as he pressed his forearm to the door over Seven’s head. He didn’t squeeze. No, he went for something far more sadistic, his thumb sweeping gently over his pulse point. 

“Do you know how crazy that made me?” Enzo practically growled. 

“Pretend I don’t know…tell me,” Seven said, a little breathless. 

“I fantasized about killing him,” Enzo said. “And about tying you to the bed and punishing you until you were too sore to walk.” 

“Punish me how, D___y?” Seven taunted. “Were you gonna spank me? Cause you keep threatening, but you never do.” 

Enzo’s hand did squeeze then, not enough to cut off his air supply but enough to let Seven know he could. “I’m holding back because I don’t want you to think that I only want you as a sub. Besides, we haven’t even discussed what you like and what you don’t. But if you need a demonstration, I’ll be happy to provide one.” 

Seven could feel his chest heaving, his lips suddenly bone dry. His tongue darted out to wet them. Enzo watched the movement carefully. Seven cleared his throat. “Our moms are on the other side of this door…remember?” 

It was clear by the way Enzo straightened that he had not only gotten lost in the moment, but seemed to have forgotten they were at work. “Right. Right. To be continued.” 

Enso once more took a deep breath and let it out, making Seven laugh. “Why are you so nervous? My mother loves you. Maybe more than me.” 

Enzo looked at him like he was crazy. “You know as well as I do that our moms will be scrutinizing our every move, looking for any sign that their scheming has worked. And once that happens, they’re going to feel emboldened.” 

“Emboldened?” Seven asked, amused. 

“You laugh but you don’t understand Italian mothers,” Enzo said, sounding a little afraid.

“What are they going to do? Once we’re married, there’s nothing more they can do. My mother is fresh out of kids to torment but your mom has so many to choose from. She’ll simply turn her attention to your siblings…we’ll be home free,” Seven said, breezily. 

Enzo gave him a flat look. “Until they start pushing for grandchildren.” 

Seven choked on his own spit. “Grandchildren?” 

Before Seven could truly process his words, Enzo pushed open the conference room door. “Good morning, ladies. You look beautiful as always.” 

Grandchildren?

Seven entered the conference room behind him, woodenly leaning down to press a kiss to both his mother’s and Francesca’s cheeks. When Enzo took a seat opposite the two women, Seven followed like his fiance had a string tied to his ass. He could feel their mothers scrutinizing him, focusing on his clothing, before looking at each other with a knowing look. 

“You look nice today,” Francesca said, innocently. “New sweater?” 

Seven gave a stilted nod. “Jericho and Freckles couldn’t get to our apartment to get my clothes, so Enzo called a friend,” he mumbled. 

“Oh,” his mother said. “How nice.” 

“I told him I’d take him shopping tonight to get him whatever he needs. This is just what my friend could scrounge up in his size at the moment,” Enzo said. 

“That’s very generous of you,” Neith said, looking her son up and down with a knowing smile. 

“Take him to Phillip. I have an open account there,” Francesca said. 

Enzo shook his head like he found their mettling both endearing and frustrating. “I can take care of my own-” he cut himself off abruptly, paling under his tan. 

“Own?” Francesca prompted, sitting forward almost eagerly. 

“Client's son,” Enzo finished lamely. 

“Smooth,” Seven whispered under his breath. 

Enzo made a show of setting up the video equipment and checking the mic. They recorded their interviews both for transcription and so they could review body language, tone, things of that nature. Seven’s mind wandered as Enzo fussed with this and that, like he was hoping if enough time passed, their mothers would stop looking at them like lone gazelles that had separated from the herd. 

Part of him thought they should just tell them. It would make them happy. But then they’d start pushing them to make wedding plans and…grandchildren. 

Once more, Seven’s tongue darted out to lick over his dried lower lip. 

Would Francesca really want them to have kids immediately? Seven couldn’t fathom what he’d be like as a parent. He still had to finish law school. He had to pass the bar. Enzo had mentioned them leaving to start their own practice. Would that make having kids easier or harder? How did two men even have a baby? 

Felix had used a surrogate, but the eggs came from Calliope’s girlfriend, Lola. Calliope had carried Thomas and Aiden’s baby, but the eggs had come from an anonymous donor. August and Lucas had just knocked up Cricket. Not once, but twice. They had pretty much exhausted the females in their friend group and it seemed weird to mine them for spare parts like some kind of chop shop. 

He supposed that Enzo’s money could buy them anything, even a baby. But Seven kind of wanted to be Enzo’s baby. At least for a while. Was that selfish? Enzo was right. They hadn’t even started exploring what Seven liked and what he didn’t. They hadn’t discussed hard or soft limits, safewords, nothing. Seven loved the idea of punishment, but what if he didn’t like it in practice? 

“Seven?” 

Enzo’s sharp tone snapped Seven back to reality. It was only then that he realized he’d completely zoned out. “Yes?” 

Enzo frowned at him while the two women looked on with amusement. “Are you alright?” 

Seven nodded. “Just tired, sorry.” 

“Did you not sleep well,” Francesca inquired, gaze flicking to her son with a look Seven didn’t even want to begin to decipher. 

“He was worried,” Enzo said before Seven could stumble through whatever explanation would have come to him in the moment. “We just want to get Neith home where she belongs and put all of this behind us so he can concentrate on school. Shall we get started?”

Seven stared at the side of Enzo’s face. There was no way he wasn’t bleeding love all over the table, but he couldn’t help himself. Enzo was so commanding, so possessive, so determined to take care of Seven. It was so fucking sexy. Even their mothers were charmed. He just exuded charisma. 

“Of course,” Neith said, looking down at the pastry on her plate. “Ask me anything.” 

Enzo sat back in his chair. “I’ll just jump right into it. Please understand any questions I ask aren’t meant to offend. They’ll just help us get to the bottom of this much faster.” 

“Just ask your questions, habibi,” Neith said. “I won’t be offended.” 

Enzo flushed at Neith’s use of the term of endearment, looking like he was biting back a smile. “Uh, yeah. Okay. First and foremost, do you have any enemies? Someone who might want to harm you?” 

Seven jumped as Enzo’s hand slipped beneath the table, landing high on his thigh. Was he going to feel him up in front of their mothers? Was he trying to kill him? When the hand didn’t move any higher, just gave a comforting squeeze, his shoulders sagged once more. He was just trying to calm him down. He must really look like a mess. 

“Up until they were slapping handcuffs on me, I would have said no,” Neith said, her voice cracking slightly. 

“What about dad?” Seven blurted. “Could he have anything to do with this?” 

Neith gave him a sad smile. “I don’t think so, habibi. Your father and I aren’t on bad terms.” 

“Not even now that you’re dating Rocco?” Seven asked, his tone slightly more accusatory than he’d wanted. “Does he know about that?” 

Neith glanced at Francesca, then back to Seven. “That’s a very recent development. We’ve only been dating a few months.” 

A few months? She’d been dating someone for months and didn’t even tell him? Though to be fair, its not like he told her about Enzo. 

“Whoever did this to me has been plotting this for a while. At least six months. Its clear now, that they moved me into this position to take the fall,” she said. 

“Is there anyone that might have a grudge against you in the company?” Enzo asked, brows furrowing. 

Neith looked conflicted. “I didn’t think so at first, but now I’m starting to wonder.” 

“Why’s that?” Seven asked. 

Neith gave a helpless shake of her head. “When the officers questioned me yesterday, they said I was really good at covering my tracks but not good enough. That even though I used my assistants username and password, they’d traced the transactions back to my terminal.” 

Seven’s temper flared immediately. 

“Why would they suspect you if it was her username and password?” Seven asked, indignation creeping into his voice. 

Neith shrugged. “Because the laptop was mine. Nobody has access to it but me. Bethany would have had to know my credentials to access my laptop and if she did, why would she have used her own credentials to make those bogus transactions. She’s a smart girl, but if she was trying to frame me, why would she have used her own information for the most damning part?” 

“To make it look like a coverup?” Francesca asked. “Maybe she was trying to muddy the waters?” 

Neith frowned. “Possibly. She was supposed to be the one promoted. She was—is—the assistant finance director. She works directly underneath me. When Damian left, she was supposed to replace him, but they promoted me instead. They said it was a reward for all my hard work over the last twenty plus years.”

“A reward?” Enzo prompted. 

Neith nodded. “I told them I wasn’t sure I was qualified for the position. I was great at getting donors to open their checkbooks, but I didn’t know anything about accounting. Grant insisted that I could learn on the job, that it was a new software and they were all learning it with me. Called my promotion a seniority thing and that Bethany would be there to help me all the way. It was too much of a raise to pass up.” There was a bitterness to her words. “Maybe that should have been my first clue that this was all a setup.” 

“You couldn’t have known that they were trying to frame you for embezzlement, mama,” Seven said softly. 

She didn’t answer, just picked at the flaky top of her pastry with one perfectly manicured nail. 

“So this Bethany had to have been pretty upset that she got passed over for the promotion, no?” Enzo asked. 

“She didn’t seem upset. She said it was kind of a relief not to have the added responsibility. If anything, she was overly helpful, constantly hovering. She did everything she could to make the transition easier for me.” As his mother spoke, Enzo could see the realization dawning. “I guess that would have been the perfect way to cover her tracks.” 

“We’ll look into Bethany but is there anyone else you can think of?” Enzo asked. “Anyone at all?” 

Seven shifted in his seat. “What about that guy you had to fire? Could he be behind this?” 

Her brow furrowed, a look of confusion crossing her face. Then understanding seemed to dawn. 

“Who? Marcus? I suppose anything is possible, but he was just a loud mouth with connections. I’m not sure he’s capable—mentally—of pulling off this level of deception. Besides, Grant said he had already moved on to a ‘much better’ job.” 

Disappointment settled in Seven’s chest. Of course, someone like that would land on their feet. But Bethany was still a viable suspect. It wasn’t much but it was something. 

“Did you notice anything off about the accounting? Transactions you didn’t authorize? Vendors you didn’t recognize?” Enzo asked. “Did anything ring any alarm bells for you?” 

Neith opened her mouth like she was about to say no, but then she hesitated. 

“Did you think of something?” Enzo prodded. 

“Yes?” she said, tone unsure. “But it was before my promotion. And it didn’t have anything to do with accounting.”

“Tell us anyway,” Francesca said, gently. “You never know what might be important later.” 

Neith gave a jerky nod, forehead creasing, making her look her age. “Every year we have a gala—that’s how I met your mother, actually.” Neith smiled at Francesca, who smiled back, patting her hand. “Planning the gala has been my job for the last decade. Every year, I have to fight for something other than that same rubber chicken fundraiser that everyone dreads.” 

“But something was different this year?” Enzo pressed. 

“We started planning around eight months ago,” she said. “Our budget was lower than usual, so I had an idea to help bring in more funds. I decided to invite not only the donors, but some of our success stories. The women we helped. I wanted to show them how their funds truly helped real people.” 

Seven frowned. “And someone didn’t like that?” 

Neith paled. “No. I couldn’t find them.” 

“Find who?” Enzo asked, brow furrowed. 

“The women. We have a handful of our success stories on the wall in the lobby. The photos we use in our marketing materials to show proof of concept. There’s dozens of these success stories in our files, hundreds even, maybe. Women I personally helped find placement with job services and housing opportunities. But when I went looking for them…I couldn’t find them.” 

“Any of them?” Francesca asked. 

Neith shrugged. “A few were easy to track down. They were locals. They seemed happy to help. But the more women I tried to contact, the more bizarre it became that I couldn’t,” Neith said, shaking her head like she was remembering her own puzzlement. 

“Did you bring this to anyone’s attention?” Seven asked. 

Neith nodded. “Our director, Grant. He laughed me off. He reminded me that we deal with a largely transient population, that while we had many success stories, we could only track people for so long before they moved away or lost contact with us. He said that we were tied to some of the worst times in these women’s lives and it wasn’t weird that some of them wanted to leave the past in the past.” 

That sounded shady to Seven but maybe he was just a natural skeptic.

“What happened after that?” Enzo asked. “Did you look into it further?” 

“I was going to. But before I could, Bethany came to me and said she could get into a lot of trouble for telling me this, but that Grant fudged some of our success stories and that the reason I couldn’t track some of these women down was because they never existed in the first place. But that didn’t track. I knew some of these women. I personally helped them. They definitely existed.” 

“Did you tell her that?” Seven prompted. 

She shook her head. “I didn’t want to get into an argument. I thought maybe I was just being paranoid. Two weeks later, I was promoted and Bethany wasn’t. I thought maybe Grant had found out about her gossiping,” Neith said, shaking her head like the pieces were falling into place. “I’m such an idiot.” 

“No, you’re not,” Seven said. “These people set you up.” 

Francesca patted her hand. “Seven’s right.” 

“The gala planning was left to Bethany after that. Which wasn’t her job. It had never been her job. I was gonna continue to help with it, but then the DOJ audit was triggered and after that, I was slammed, trying to make sure we had all of our financial ducks in a row. Which wasn’t easy because I wasn’t familiar with the job. Bethany was always having to help me.” 

“How soon after your promotion was the DOJ audit?” Enzo asked. 

“Six weeks,” Neith said, once more paying too much attention to the pastry on her plate. 

“Can you think of anything else that might be helpful?” Enzo asked. “Anything at all?” 

She started to shake her head, then stopped. “My predecessor, Damian…he died in a car accident three months ago. A DUI. Wrapped his car around a light pole at four in the morning.” 

“You think it wasn’t an accident?” Enzo asked, tilting his head in a way Seven found hotter than he should. 

“At the time, I chalked it up to poor judgment, but then I remembered something. At a fundraiser four years ago, I offered him champagne and he said he never touched the stuff. I must have looked confused, because he laughed and said he wasn’t in recovery or anything, he was just allergic. Something called an AL something deficiency.” 

“Was it a fatal allergy? Would it have killed him to drink alcohol?” Francesca asked, leaning into his mother’s space, expression tense. 

She shook her head. “He made it sound more like it was just very unpleasant. He said he would get flushed and sweaty and probably throw up all over our party guests and ‘kill the vibe’.” 

“What did Bethany say when you mentioned it?” Seven asked.

“She said he was a recovering alcoholic with a good story. That he was likely just hiding it because he was embarrassed. I didn’t really question it because Bethany had worked closely with him for years. Why would she lie?” 

“I want to make sure I have the timeline correct,” Enzo said. “Eight months ago, you notice that women from the program appear to have disappeared. Two weeks later, Bethany is passed over for a promotion, but doesn’t seem at all upset about this. Six weeks after that, the DOJ sends word there’s going to be an audit. A few weeks after that, the man who used to have your job dies under mysterious circumstances. Does that sound about right?” 

Neith nodded. “God, when you put it like that, it sounds so obvious that I stumbled onto something they didn’t want getting out and they set me up to take the fall. What do we do now?” 

Enzo looked almost relieved, like it would be an easy fix. “Well, first, we let the twins do what they do with the thumb drive. Whoever set you up couldn’t have gotten much of a head’s up that the police were on their way to arrest you, which means the decision to toss that thumb drive into your purse was probably done in haste.” 

“What if it was in my purse for weeks?” Neith asked. 

“Doubtful. They would have to be concerned about you finding it and if it was in there for weeks, then whatever incriminating evidence they put on there would likely abruptly stop.” 

Seven hoped he was right. 

“There’s a good chance they weren’t as thorough as they think,” Enzo said. “While they do that, Seven and I are gonna start running down previous clients helped by WERC to see just how many of them are truly missing and if there were any common denominators.” 

Neith hid her face in her hands, taking a deep breath and letting it out. When she dropped her hands again, she asked, “Do you think these women were harmed?” 

“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Enzo said. 

“If I’ve helped these people…” Neith started, trailing off. 

“You couldn’t have known what was happening,” Francesca reassured her. “But if we find out that these people are hurting women, then we’ll do what we’ve always done. We’ll handle it.” 

Enzo nodded. “My mother’s right. First, we prove your innocence. Then we make them pay…in the most painful possible way.” 

Seven’s heart tripped in his chest. Fuck, he loved that man. 

###

Enzo was being weird. He’d been oddly twitchy since the meeting with their moms. While they spent the afternoon attempting to run down the names of some of these women—the few his mother could remember by name—Enzo kept stopping to covertly check his phone. If he was less trusting, he’d think Enzo was stupid enough to cheat on him, but Seven knew he’d never be that stupid. 

But it did beg the question, who was on the other side of that text chain? 

After work, Enzo insisted on taking him shopping. Phillip, it turned out, was the personal shopper at the department store inside the mall on the nice side of town near Enzo’s penthouse. For two hours, Seven was forced to try on outfit after outfit while Enzo sat splayed on the sofa, legs wide, arms resting on the back, like he was hoping Seven would say fuck it and just fall to his knees right there. 

He considered it. Anything to be done with this shopping situation. They left with four bags of off the rack couture and a promise that the rest would be delivered. Enzo wouldn’t allow Seven to know the cost but there was no way it was less than twenty thousand dollars. Enzo acted like it was a trip to the second hand store. 

After shopping, he took Seven to a nice restaurant where he drank a little too much whine. Just enough to be tipsy, but not enough to be drunk. It was nice. Kind of like a real first date. After their meal, Enzo finally agreed to take him home. Usually, Seven would be streaming with his friends in an hour or two, but tonight he would have to settle for a shower and hot sex with his much older boyfriend. 

In the elevator, Enzo’s fingers tapped out a beat at the small of Seven’s back, his gaze on the ceiling, like he was afraid to make eye contact. 

“Why are you acting so weird?” Seven asked as the car ascended towards the top floor.

“What? I’m not. How am I acting weird?” Enzo said, voice an octave higher than normal. 

Seven narrowed his eyes. “That, that right there. You’re hiding something. I know it.” The elevator dinged, letting them know they’d arrived on their floor. He scoffed. “Saved by the bell.” 

When they stepped off the elevator, the apartment was eerily dark. Even when they’d fallen asleep last night there had been a dim glow of a lamp from downstairs. But now, the only glow came from a strange throbbing neon green in the office. 

“Uh, I think someone landed a spaceship in your office,” he joked, even though he found the light a little unsettling. 

Enzo snickered, taking Seven’s hand and dragging him towards the light. Once they reached the office, Enzo flipped the switch, then stood back, letting Seven look his fill. 

“What did you do?” he asked, breathless. 

Someone had rearranged the office so that Enzo’s desk now faced out towards the night sky and a new desk was left in its place. On the wall behind the desk was the source of the glow, ten hexagonal shaped lights strewn about the wall. The chair was black leather, with a padded headrest and arms and there was not one but three separate monitors sitting on the desks surface. 

“Now, I don’t know much about computers, but the twins do,” Enzo said. “But if there’s something you don’t like, we can change it. Okay?” 

Seven didn’t answer, just floated closer to the desk. His heart was in his throat, his hands trembling slightly as he ran his fingers over the keys. They were decked out with things like pixelated swords and shields. Seven picked up the piece of paper that was sitting on the desk beside the mouse. It was a typed message in font just large enough to feel threatening.

Seven,

Welcome to your new command center. Don’t freak out (actually, do). Here’s what you’ve got:

4090 beast build w/ custom loop & aurora coolant. She purrs like a panther and runs your Arthurian sim at ultra with RTX maxed out. Go ahead. Try to make her sweat. You won’t. 

128GB RAM because we could, not because you’ll ever need it (unless you open 300 tabs while live streaming in 4K, which you should). 

Triple-monitor spread with the G9 ultra-wide in the middle. Cinematic enough to make Rowan Thorn Vale cry. 

Custom keyboard with hot-swaps and silent reds (for your rage control). We mapped macros for your favorite combos. Check the cheat sheet in the drawer. 

Shure SM7B mic and full mixer setup. 

Your controller is pressure-sensitive and personalized. Try the D-pad. We might’ve added a surprise. 

Nanoleaf panels sync to ambient game music. You’re literally mood-lit now. 

Fridge stocked. Snacks sorted. RGB everything. We even gave your bot a British accent. You’re welcome. 

P.S. Boot-up line is your Rowan voice clip from that secret Season 1 side quest. Yes, we ripped the files. No, don’t ask how. P.P.S. Enzo has no idea what any of this means. Do NOT let him near the mixer. Or the coolant valves. Seriously.

Love, The Chaos Twins (a.k.a. Your Favorite In-Laws™)

“You said your laptop couldn’t run your game so I asked the twins to find something that would.” 

Find something that would…This man was truly insane. Sweet, caring, generous to a fault…but absolutely insane. Seven wasn’t worth all of this effort. Did it make him selfish to take it anyway?

He turned to face Enzo, heart tripping at the anxious look on the man’s face, the paper falling from his fingertips to float to the floor. “You did all this in ten hours?” 

Enzo was studying his face, his look shockingly anxious. “I didn’t do anything, just…made a phone call. I can’t tell if you’re happy or sad? Did I fuck up?” 

Seven pressed both hands to Enzo’s muscular chest, the heat of his skin causing his half-hard cock to get fully on board. He walked Enzo backwards until his ass hit the desk. He grunted in surprise, staring down at Seven like he didn’t know if he was going to get slapped or praised. 

“Do you have any idea how much something like this costs?” Seven murmured. 

Enzo shook his head. “Not really, I just turned the twins loose with my black card. I’m getting nervous here. Are you mad? Is it not what you like? Like I said we can change anything-” 

“What time is it?” Seven asked, cutting him off. 

Enzo checked his watch with a frown. “A few minutes after seven.” 

A slow smile spread across Seven’s face as he sank to his knees. “Perfect.” 

Enzo followed his descent with his eyes, blinking rapidly like he was trying to process what was happening. The way his eyes blew wide made Seven feel sexy, powerful, like he was the only one who could shake Enzo like that. 

He deftly opened Enzo’s jeans, roughly yanking them to mid-thigh before groaning in appreciation. Even covered in ink, Enzo had the most beautiful legs, thick thighs dusted with dark hair. He let himself run his hands along the muscles there, biting his bottom lip as his own cock kicked at the sight. 

He tipped forward, pressing his face to Enzo’s underwear, inhaling the musky scent like a drug. It made his head swim and his thoughts grow syrupy. He nosed at the bulge there then flicked his tongue out, wetting the fabric, stomach swooping as Enzo’s breath hitched. 

Even soft, Enzo’s cock was impressive. He flicked his gaze upwards, sitting back on his knees, hoping he presented as the picture of obedience. “Can I have it, D___y?” he asked, giving him his most guileless eyes. 

Enzo combed his fingers through Seven’s hair, studying his face. “I don’t know…Do you think you deserve it?” 

Seven nodded. “Please, D___y?” 

“Fine,” Enzo said like he was doing him a favor. “Show D___y how grateful you are for your new presents.” 

The words knocked an embarrassing whimper from deep in his chest. “Yes, D___y.” 

Maybe Seven was meant to be a sugar baby after all. He’d never been more turned on in his life. Rewarding Enzo’s generosity with sexual favors would have sent Seven off the rails eight months ago, but now it had him leaking into his unforgiving jeans. 

He wanted to be good for him, wanted to show him how much he loved and appreciated everything Enzo did for him. Wanted to give him something in return. But what did you give the guy who had everything? His mouth, his submission, his blind obedience. 

When Seven didn’t move fast enough, Enzo slid his underwear out of the way, fingers tangling in Seven’s hair once more as he stroked himself with his other hand. “This what you want?” 

Seven tried to nod, whining as Enzo held him just out of reach. “Yes, D___y.” 

“I’m not sure I believe you,” he said like he was considering just walking away. 

“I do. Please, D___y,” Seven begged, sinking deeper into that place where the rest of the world fell away. 

“Open,” Enzo said, tone sharp. Seven complied without question, mouth gaping as he looked up at Enzo with hopeful eyes. “Such an obedient little thing when you’re getting what you want. Give me your tongue.” 

Once more, Seven did as he was told, biting back another pitiful whine. Most subs couldn’t be this whiny. Right? It was like Enzo’s words were directly tied to the pleasure center of Seven’s brain.

Enzo chuckled like he was reading Seven’s mind, making insides shiver. Warmth spread through his limbs, making him feel useless and uncoordinated. “Are you so desperate to suck my cock that you’ll whine like a little puppy if you don’t get it?” Seven nodded, eyelids fluttering as Enzo ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s so cute.” 

Seven squeezed his eyes shut, his ears burning and cock throbbing. 

“Uh-uh-uh. Open your eyes.” Seven forced open heavy lids to meet his gaze once more, belly clenching when their eyes locked and he found Enzo staring at him with a near predatory desire. “Keep your eyes on me.” 

Seven bit back a needy sound. God, he really did whimper like a needy puppy for him. Enzo’s gaze was so intense, Seven had to force himself to keep looking, keep watching, as Enzo pressed past his lips one maddening inch at a time. 

He moaned at the first taste of him on his tongue. Salty, sharp, undeniably Enzo. Unlike Seven, Enzo was barely hard, despite the weight of him. 

Enzo teased him with a few slow thrusts, like he was trying to get him used to the feel of him again. Seven frowned when he released him, watching as he planted his hands on the desk behind him. “Go ahead, impress me.” 

This time it was Seven who blinked rapidly, trying to get the words to penetrate through the fog of need flooding his system. Impress him…He wasn’t entirely sure how to do that. Enzo had talked him through how to deep throat him, but it had been months since that night. Seven didn’t want to just go for it. Nothing would ruin a blow job quite like hurling up three glasses of red wine. 

Seven dropped his gaze to Enzo’s cock, resting half hard against his thigh. Fuck, he was so big. 

“Uh-uh,” Enzo crooned. “Eyes on me, remember?” 

Seven swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, leaking into his underwear once more as he forced his eyes upward. “Yes, D___y,” he managed, voice raw. 

When Seven hesitated, Enzo raked his gaze over him from head to toe. “Don’t be shy, baby. D___y already taught you this. Didn’t he? Show me what a good student you are.” 

Seven took Enzo in hand, stroking him timidly a few times under Enzo’s watchful gaze. Seven loved this, loved him. Loved the way he looked at him like he was just a toy to be used for Enzo’s pleasure, like there was nobody else in the world who would satisfy him like Seven did. 

He’d always fantasized about having a man he called D___y but he’d never really explored the idea of submission until Enzo had leaned into his space in that conference room and shattered his world. Now he was the object of every one of his dark fantasies. Calling him D___y wasn’t enough. He wanted to be punished, disciplined, dominated. By Enzo. 

Out in the real world every single decision had life or death consequences. But not in there. In there, Enzo made the rules. Enzo was in charge. And Seven would happily crawl through broken glass if he asked him to. 

Seven flattened his tongue, dragging it along the prominent vein on the underside of Enzo’s cock like he was licking an ice cream cone, knocking a sharp breath from the older man. Seven’s own erection throbbed painfully behind his zipper as the muscle in Enzo’s jaw ticked, like he was already barely hanging on. Seven swirled his tongue around the thick crown, then sucked at it almost delicately. 

Seven swallowed him down, dragging another low sound from the man looming above him, watching his every move with dark eyes. It was so intense, he had to force himself to keep his eyes open, the heavy weight of Enzo’s cock on his tongue making his eyelids flutter. He moaned appreciatively around him, lips stretching obscenely the further back he took him, the slight ache in his jaw reminding him just how big Enzo really was. 

He didn’t stop until his nose was buried in the nest of hair at the base of Enzo’s cock, gagging loudly as his muscles convulsed at the intrusion. Enzo’s nostrils flared at the sound, a low growl leaving him. Seven pulled back just a bit, then sank down once more, this time breathing through it. He kept him in his throat, until his ears rang and his eyes pricked with tears. 

The expression on Enzo’s face was damn near feral as Seven found a rhythm. His ears glowing red at the wet popping sound his throat made every time he took Enzo deep. It was obscene, filthy even, but Enzo loved it. His chest was heaving, his muscles rigid, his hands fisted on the wooden desk. 

Tears spilled down his cheeks, his nose running like a faucet. Spit gathered in his mouth until it poured from the corners of his lips, coating his chin and dripping onto the floor. 

“Look at you. You’re making such a mess,” Enzo murmured, pulling Seven off of him and slapping his cock against his cheek. Seven nuzzled at it until Enzo smeared it across the fluids coating Seven’s face. “My dirty boy. You love this, don’t you? Love being used.”

Seven nodded, a sob escaping. He choked on nothing as Enzo’s socked foot suddenly pressed to Seven’s neglected dick. He made a needy sound, hips kicking upwards, desperate for some much-needed friction. 

“Eyes on me,” Enzo snapped. 

Seven hadn’t even realized he’d closed them, too busy reeling from the pleasure that came from grinding against that solid pressure of Enzo’s foot. “Sorry, D___y” he managed, throat raw. 

Enzo’s gaze dropped to Seven’s crotch, smirking as he pressed the ball of his foot down harder until the pressure was no longer a pleasant pressure, but a nagging pain. “Does that feel good, baby?” 

Seven nodded, eyes glassy, burning from the tears still pouring down his cheeks. 

“Words.” 

“Yes, D___y,” Seven rasped, untethered from everything but Enzo. 

“Prove it,” Enzo taunted. “Hump my foot while I use your mouth. Show me just how much you love it.” 

Heat shocked through him, lava bubbling unchecked in his core. “Yes, D___y.” 

Enzo’s top teeth dragged across his bottom lip as he stroked himself lazily. “Good boy.” 

He guided his cock past Seven’s lips once more. He hollowed his cheeks, finding a rhythm. Each glide of his lips along Enzo’s shaft punched harsh breaths and low grunts from him. Seven’s hips worked of their own accord, rubbing his needy cock against Enzo’s socked foot like it was the most normal thing in the world and not borderline pathetic.

It took some of the focus from his aching jaw and burning throat, from the sloppy mess on his face and the one growing in his pants. When he pulled off for a much needed breath, a string of saliva connected his lips to the head of Enzo’s cock, making the older man laugh. He tipped forward, resting his head on Enzo’s hip, sucking in lungfuls of air. 

Enzo’s fingers twisted in his hair, forcing his gaze back up to his. “What’s wrong, brat? Giving up already?” 

 “Use me, D___y,” he slurred. “You said you’d use my mouth. Do it, please. Make it rough. Make it hurt. Please, D___y” 

Enzo studied him, his expression molten. “You really can’t get off unless I’m treating you like a dirty fucking slut, huh?” 

Something unknotted in Seven, surrendering to the truth. “No, D___y” 

“That’s right,” Enzo said, petting him. “You were born to kneel, born to beg. My pretty little whore. Knew you were mine from the second you shot off that sexy mouth, wanted to force you to your knees right there in the conference room and show your friends what it takes to tame a brat like you. Now look at you.” Seven’s eyelids fluttered, pleasure coursing through him at his words. “You sure this is what you want, brat?” 

“Please,” he gasped, like a prayer. 

“I love you too much to deny you anything,” Enzo purred. “Even if that means fucking your slutty little mouth like I hate you.”

 Seven’s gaze floated shut, a near euphoric feeling washing over him at the idea of Enzo using him. This time, Enzo didn’t force him to watch. Seven let himself float in that delicious fog, letting everything else slip away. 

“If you want me to stop, tap my leg.”

That was the last warning he got. Seven sighed with relief when the heavy weight of Enzo’s cock returned to his tongue. Harsh fingers gripped handfuls of his hair, but he didn’t fuck into him harshly, didn’t use him like he had in bed that morning. Instead, he rolled his hips forward slowly, dragging Seven’s mouth down around him. He forced his cock past the resistance of his throat, groaning as Seven’s body fought the intrusion, closing around him. 

It was a slow torment, but Seven didn’t care. His throat was on fire, his jaw felt dislocated…but none of that mattered. Seven was bobbing along in a sea of bliss, grinding against Enzo’s foot, whining around his cock, desperate for a release that wouldn’t come. 

Every time Seven felt that tell-tale heat building in his belly, that overwhelming flood of pleasure, Enzo would pull his foot back, groaning as Seven sobbed around him. It was all a game. Give and take. Push and pull. By the time Enzo’s foot returned to Seven’s cock, he was too far gone to care about embarrassment, fucking his hips up against it desperately even as the zipper of his jeans bit into his skin. 

Seven tried to take it like a good boy, tried to hold back the wet gags and low squelching sounds that escaped every time Enzo bottomed out, but he had no control over his body any longer. It belonged to Enzo. He belonged to Enzo. 

When he pulled Seven off of him, the possessive look on his face made it all worth it. The tears, the snot, the spit, the precum soaking his underwear. He would deal with all that and more to have Enzo look at him like that for the rest of his life. 

 “What’s wrong? Had enough, baby?” 

Seven sniffled. Yes. “No.” 

Enzo’s slow smile melted the few brain cells Seven had left. “Liar.” 

“‘m not,” Seven slurred, voice gone. 

“Close your eyes, sweet boy,” Enzo demanded. “I’ve got something for you.” 

Seven did as he was told, tipping his face upwards like he was back in church services, receiving the sacrament. Without his sight, the sounds were twice as loud in his ears. The slick slide of Enzo’s hand on his cock, his staccato breaths as he grew closer and closer to his release. The sound of Seven’s denim jeans against the silky fabric of Enzo’s socked foot. 

“Gonna come, gonna make an even bigger mess of your pretty face, mark you so the world knows who you belong to,” Enzo said through gritted teeth. 

That was what Seven sailing over the edge, a desperate wail leaving him as he thrust against Enzo’s foot one last time. He spilled messily into his jeans just as Enzo painted his face with the warmth of his release. 

Seven’s hips continued to twitch against Enzo as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm, his head pleasantly staticky. When he could think again, he raised his hands blindly reaching for Enzo. 

He heard the rustling of fabric like he was righting his clothing. He gasped when he was tugged to his feet, then swept off of them as Enzo carried him bridal style. 

“Keep your eyes shut unless you want to look like something out of a horror movie.” 

“What does that mean?” Seven asked, giggling at the rasp of his own voice. 

“You don’t want to know and I highly encourage you to never look up what sperm does to a human eyeball.” 

He was right. Seven didn’t want to know how Enzo knew the effects of getting jizz in your eyes. He let him carry him upstairs to the bathroom then set him on the bathroom counter. He sat patiently, eyes firmly shut, as Enzo stepped between his open knees, gently cleaning his face with a warm cloth. 

It was nice. Soothing even. Even when he heard the wet slap of the cotton fabric hitting the sink, he kept his eyes shut, determined to prove his obedience, at least until he was sure the scene had officially ended. 

Enzo’s large hands cupped his face, his lips finding his in a barely there kiss. “You can open your eyes now, sweet boy.” Seven blinked a few times, adjusting to the slightly brighter lights of the bathroom before finding Enzo’s concerned gaze. “You okay, baby?” he asked softly, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. 

Seven gave a soft laugh, throat raw. “Do I not look okay?” 

“You look well-fucked,” Enzo said, a there and gone smile flickering across his handsome face. “Seriously, though. Did I hurt you?” 

“Well, yeah,” Seven said teasingly. “That’s kind of the point. I sound like I drink whiskey for breakfast and smoke four packs a day. But I like it. It’s hot.” 

“You’re such a brat,” Enzo said fondly. “What time are you supposed to meet your friends online?” 

Seven tipped forward, pressing his face into that spot he loved on Enzo’s neck. His spot. His safe place. The one that let him huff Enzo’s scent like an anti-anxiety medication. “Eight o’clock.” 

“Good. Let's take a quick shower and get some sugar in you so you don’t subdrop in front of an audience and your friends think I’m abusing you.” 

Seven burrowed deeper even as he said, “Yes, D___y”