Currently obsessed with Dishonored.
[I wrote this ages ago, but it appears to have been deleted off Y!Gallery for some reason. So fuck that site, I’m posting it here. Enjoy the pointless smut AU.]
As he stirred, the first thing Niccolò noticed was that he was sitting upright, which was very odd because he clearly remembered going to bed after bidding his assistant goodnight. Going to bed, as in lying down in it. On his back.
The next thing he noticed was that despite having opened his eyes, everything was still black. He was blindfolded.
[AN: I’M SORRY, I COULDN’T MAKE THIS SEXY OR SLASHY. It will probably bore people because of it. But I will always leap at the chance to write the Auditore family.]
All in all, this party was a huge success. Lorenzo sat at the head table, watching the revelry with a small smile; many guests were drunk, but not enough to be considered obscenely so. Giuliano sat on his right, his chin propped up in his hand as he considered the guests (or more specifically, if Lorenzo knew his brother, the young women.) The Auditore were seated at his left, watching… Well, three of them were.
Lorenzo could tell that Maria and Giovanni wanted to get up and dance together. But the three eldest children had taken off, leaving no one to watch young Petruccio should his parents leave the table. Lorenzo scanned the hall; he could see Claudia nearby, speaking with her latest crush. Federico was at the back of the hall, dancing with a nameless woman, and Ezio had vanished completely. It did not take long for Lorenzo to figure out that Federico was dancing with Cristina Vespucci’s chaperone.
He leaned over to murmur in Giovanni’s ear. “I’ll watch Petruccio. Go on.”
Giovanni looked faintly surprised. “Ah, Lorenzo, I wouldn’t-”
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. “Do you think he will give me trouble, Giovanni?” he asked, cutting the older man off. Giovanni blinked, and then a smile spread across his handsome face.
“Of course not. Thank you, my friend.” He leaned over to whisper in his wife’s ear, and Maria’s answering smile could have lit the room on its own. She mouthed her thanks to Lorenzo and murmured something to Petruccio, who nodded obediently in reply. Giovanni stood, offered his arm to his wife, and together they took to the dance floor and were soon lost among the crowd. Petruccio watched them go nervously.
Lorenzo felt a little sorry for him. He had much more colour in his face than the last time the Duke had seen him, but because he was chronically ill he had little chance to interact with anyone outside his family. He was clearly overwhelmed by the festivities. Lorenzo pulled Giovanni’s chair out from under the table and patted it.
“Come and sit here, Petruccio.”
Petruccio obeyed, a nervous smile on his face. Giuliano peered curiously around Lorenzo at the boy, before shoving a silver bowl filled with red ripe cherries at Lorenzo.
“Keep him entertained with that,” he muttered cannily. “Children love food.”
“That would explain your love of it.” Lorenzo shook his head exasperatedly at his younger brother - he was as subtle as a thunderstorm sometimes - and turned his attention back to Petruccio.
“Are you enjoying the party, Petruccio?”
Petruccio smiled at him. “Yes, Sir,” he answered dutifully, before turning and searching the dance floor for his parents again. Lorenzo sighed; he was still nervous, and if he didn’t calm down he could stress himself into being sick. Begrudgingly, he decided to try Giuliano’s idea.
“Have you ever tried cherries?” he asked, pulling the bowl to sit on the table between them. Petruccio shook his head. “They’re very good. Try one! Careful not to choke on the seed.”
Hesitantly, Petruccio plucked one from the plate and popped it into his mouth. He spat the seed into his palm, reached over the table to retrieve his own plate, and discarded it on there. After a moment he smiled at Lorenzo, already looking a little more relaxed.
“I like them. May I have another?”
Lorenzo ignored Giuliano’s smug jab to his ribs. “Of course. Don’t eat too many or you will upset your stomach.”
He nearly laughed when Petruccio grinned happily. The boy really did resemble his parents.
Maria and Giovanni returned after only a few songs, Maria fanning herself and panting a little, a smile lighting up her beautiful face. Giovanni, who was probably fitter than most of the people present, was not out of breath, but he looked just as happy. Upon seeing Petruccio and his small pile of cherry pips, he stopped dead.
“How did you get him to eat those?” he asked Lorenzo. At Lorenzo’s bewildered look, he asked Petruccio with fond exasperation, “You wouldn’t touch them when I tried to feed them to you, and all Lorenzo has to do is put the bowl in front of you?”
“He offered me some.” Petruccio’s look was stern as he gazed up at his father. “And you always tell me to never refuse the Duke, Papa.”
“Well, yes, but…” Giovanni’s smile was sheepish. “Lorenzo, for God’s sake, tell him to eat his vegetables.”
“Please don’t, Sir!” Petruccio’s expression was panicked.
Giuliano quickly ducked away from the table to burst into laughter. Lorenzo didn’t bother to do Giovanni that courtesy, laughing as he patted Petruccio reassuringly on the shoulder and enjoying Giovanni’s awkward smile.
Niccolò ran his hands down Petruccio’s body, his eyes drinking in every detail. Petruccio watched him through dark, hooded eyes, a small smile on his face, content to simply allow Niccolò to explore his body for now. Niccolò bit his lip, suddenly feeling a little nervous, and pressed gentle kisses to Petruccio’s stomach. Petruccio laughed.
Vieri’s arms strained against the ropes binding them, his cock aching for attention. A hand ran over his bare chest, his skin tingling in its wake. He arched his back into the touch, and heard a chuckle.
“We are a close family,” Giovanni was telling him. God fucking damn, Vieri just wanted him to stop talking. “As such, I know everything about my children: where they are, what they do. Did you know my son is interested in you?”