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Initially, teaming up with the extremely annoying kid with the weird book didn't sit quite well with Hol Horse. He preferred capable, aggressive partners like J. Geil. He didn't have much confidence in taking care of the Joestar group.
But now he has Polnareff under the barrel of his gun—one of their strongest men. Silver Chariot's nervous face fades along with its presence when Polnareff complies with his demand to withdraw the Stand. Now, Polnareff's eyes are wide and alternating between him and the gun, his hands in tight fists. Hol Horse clears his throat, his face dripping with sweat, heart pounding.
“Alright, asshole. We're going to move back into this here alley so your partners don't come walkin' around that corner and interrupt,” he begins sternly, eyes trained on Polnareff carefully as he readjusted his sweaty grip on Emperor. Polnareff scowls at him.
“And why should I do that?” he scoffs, but then Hol Horse is jerking his gun towards him, which has Polnareff quieting and swallowing hard. Hol Horse growls, “'Cause otherwise I'll put a damn bullet in your head! Now get movin'!”
Polnareff stares at him with irritation and then huffs before complying and turning towards the alley. Hol Horse reaches out to grab the strap of his top, growling, “Nice and slow, Polnareff.”
“Shut up, I'm going,” Polnareff mumbles, internally debating what to do now. Hol Horse follows close behind Polnareff as he steps into the small alley between the two buildings. It's dusty and darker, hidden from the sun, and the dust bothers Polnareff's nose in addition to having two fingers previously shoved up it. He sniffles and then grunts when Hol Horse shoves him back against a wall and aims the gun at him again.
“You should've stayed loyal to Dio, Polnareff. If you did, you wouldn't be in this position.”
“I'm amazed you have this entire time,” Polnareff remarks, crossing his arms casually with an arched brow, “I would think by now you would be tired of sucking his dick.”
Hol Horse scoffs.
“That may have been what you were up to, but I ain't swayed by his charm.”
“Uh huh,” Polnareff says blankly, leveling him with a knowing look. Hol Horse feels heat burn in his face. Rather than be offended by Polnareff's lack of belief, Hol Horse is suddenly reminded of what had happened between them earlier. Why were they suddenly on the topic of dick sucking, and why did it not bother Polnareff? Maybe he's in denial or something. But Hol Horse hadn't blocked it out of his mind. No, in fact, it's been running around in his thoughts ever since it happened.
Until now, he had been too distracted by the heat of the moment to particularly think of it, but now the memory is resurfacing. He swallows hard.
Polnareff's blue eyes flicking up to stare at him has images reappearing in his mind, of those same blue eyes wide and looking up at him from below. The way they gazed up at him with desperation and forming tears. Heat bursts in Hol Horse's gut at the recollection and he rather it wouldn't. But here he is now, staring at a waiting Polnareff with a developing boner.
“Uh—er,” Hol Horse begins, flustered. Polnareff nearly laughs with his eyebrows raised.
“What? Too ashamed to threaten me more? Wow, Hol Horse, I'm impressed.”
“Shut your damn mouth!” Hol Horse spits, blushing up to his ears now. His dick is half-hard in his pants and Polnareff isn't making it any easier by throwing an amused smirk his way. Not to mention the bulging muscles in his crossed arms are glistening with sweat, earning Hol Horse's brief stare. His prominent chest is bunched together from his crossed arms, also dripping with sweat from the heat. He swallows hard again. Polnareff is actually pretty damn good looking. It isn't often he's attracted to... a man.
“Listen,” Hol Horse growls under his breath, taking a slight step closer and reminding Polnareff of his position by shoving the gun in his face, “I'll make a deal with you.”
Polnareff narrows his eyes at him and furrows his brow. He casts a nervous glance towards the gun. Silver Chariot stirs underneath his skin, a reminder that it is there and ready to counter. He curls his lip.
“What is it.”
Hol Horse lets out a breath, in disbelief he's about to suggest this. He looks at Polnareff with a hard gaze, attempting to hide his true embarrassment through a firm expression.
“Look. If—if you put your mouth on Emperor, I'll let ya go and go my own way. As far as I know, you guys are capable of takin' down Dio and I don't wanna be around for that. So there isn't much hesitance in me to just fuck off and leave all y'all alone. So. What do you say? Put your mouth on the gun and—and. I'll let you go.”
Polnareff looks at him with bafflement, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised to his hairline. Hol Horse's heart is racing and his stomach is in knots. He can't believe he just suggested such a damn thing.
“You—you want me to put my mouth on your gun? What the hell?” Polnareff sputters with a laugh, an amused grin spreading over his lips. Hol Horse growls and jabs him in the cheek with Emperor, which shuts him up.
“Hey! You can either go along with it or meet your maker!”
Polnareff frowns. He narrows his eyes at him again.
“What? Did last time excite you? What is wrong with you? Putain de connard.”
Hol Horse grinds his teeth.
“Do you want me to change my mind? I said Emperor. I don't want to see you on your knees. I don't want to relive that shit. I figured you would be more willing to—to, uh, do it to my Stand.”
Polnareff continues to eye him with distaste before saying lowly, “How am I supposed to trust you, that you would leave? You're not exactly true to your word.”
“It's either that, or I just shoot you here and now,” Hol Horse says, tightening his hand on the strap of Polnareff's top, readjusting the grip of his fingers on the gun, “The risk of trusting me is closer to lettin' you live rather than choosing a bullet. It's up to you.”
Polnareff alternates his stare between the gun and Hol Horse. They stand in silence for a minute, with the occasional noise of footsteps and conversation drifting in from the other end of the alley. Then Polnareff sighs and mumbles, “I'll... I'll do it.”
Hol Horse lets out a breath and nods. He hesitates a second, looking at Polnareff's frustrated expression, and then brings the gun in closer to his face. If there was a safety, he would flip it on, but Emperor isn't like other guns. There's no accidental firing. It only fires when he wills it to.
So he has no concern in the back of his mind when Polnareff flicks his gaze up to look at Hol Horse while he opened his mouth and reluctantly leaned in to take a part of the barrel in between his lips. Hol Horse hadn't really done this before, considering only Stand users could see Emperor and the only female Stand users he knows are attracted to Dio. This is his first actual practice with this fantasy of his.
So when that feeling of Polnareff's hot mouth extends to his own body, to his own dick, he is a little surprised. He expected to just feel this weird tingly feeling, but no, it's more much than that. He sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth as Polnareff gradually, hesitantly took more into his mouth, his jaw opened wide to accommodate the size of the gun.
He closes his lips around it and glares at Hol Horse with his narrowed eyes as he sucked. Hol Horse is now entirely hard in his pants, and the thought of coming in his pants is unpleasant but in the end the experience is definitely worth the discomfort. He sets his jaw and watches with wide eyes as Polnareff slowly drew his mouth back and then closed it around Emperor again. His pink lips stretch around it, his cheeks flushed and eyes narrowed. Seeing his gun in Polnareff's mouth, with those blue eyes fixed on him, his prominent cheekbones tinted a pink, is a sight Hol Horse swears he will never forget.
Feeling the heat and texture of his mouth on his dick is so much more different than how it had been before. Before, it had been just his tongue, but now, having his mouth around “him” is entirely different. It has Hol Horse weak in the knees. Watching Polnareff work his mouth slowly, a gradual back and forth with his handsome, sharp-featured face flushed and blue eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, will end this much sooner.
Polnareff's jaw begins to hurt but he keeps going regardless, unsure of a stopping point. Hol Horse is breathing pretty heavily and his face is red so he assumes it's effecting him. He feels awkward keeping his arms crossed like this, but what else is he supposed to do with them? This whole damn thing is awkward in itself. He has done this with Silver Chariot before, so he knows the sensation must transfer somehow. And knowing Hol Horse is getting off on this makes him uncomfortable, but he doesn't feel as degraded as before. He definitely does not feel good about this though, that's for sure.
Running his tongue flatly against the underside of Emperor has Hol Horse gritting his teeth and tightening his fist around the strap of Polnareff's top to a point his knuckles turn white. Polnareff is gazing at him calmly, his lips pursed against the tip of the barrel. Deciding to experiment, Polnareff cautiously tongues at the hole where the bullet exits. Hol Horse can feel it against the head of his dick. He grunts, suddenly coming in his pants.
Polnareff recognizes the expression on his face, so he leans back against the wall of the narrow alley and feels relief in giving his jaw a break. Hol Horse huffs and catches his breath, making a face at the feeling of his jizz clinging to the inside of his underwear. Polnareff watches him carefully, ready to withdraw Silver Chariot.
Hol Horse has Emperor fade to nothing and then lets out a deep breath. He looks at Polnareff, who stares back at him, and presses his lips together, unsure of what to say. Polnareff looks vaguely relieved that he withdrew his Stand. Hol Horse stares at Polnareff's pretty lips.
Polnareff is taken by surprise when Hol Horse steps closer and pushes him firmly back against the wall and leans in, head tilted, to smash their lips together. Polnareff grunts both from surprise and pain; Hol Horse's teeth had knocked against his own. Polnareff reaches up to grab fistfuls of his damp blonde hair and furrows his brow, his eyes squeezed shut. Hol Horse kisses the life out of him with deep purses of his lips, and Polnareff finds himself returning it with almost as much enthusiasm. Their lips move together, a firm back and forth with Hol Horse's heavy breathing slipping in between their overlapping mouths. When Hol Horse sneaks a hand up to grope at his chest, Polnareff lets his hair go and curls a hand around the front of Hol Horse's throat to shove him off.
Hol Horse stumbles back until he meets the opposite wall with a grunt of pain, his elbows and forearms scraping against the rough texture of the wall. Polnareff spits onto the ground and then eyes Hol Horse bitterly, his freckled face flushed (Hol Horse thinks it's kinda cute).
“Don't come near us again, or else I won't hesitate to kill you.”
Hol Horse gives him a lop-sided grin, his chest heaving and hat haphazard on his head. He salutes with two fingers.
“See you later, Polnareff.”
Polnareff rolls his eyes and then walks away, hands in fists and back squared.