Chapter Text
When Pantalone received the urgent message to return to Zapolyarny Palace as soon as possible, he was currently on one of his rare missions outside the comfort of Snezhnaya. He was busy overseeing some of his subordinates beating the shit out of a poor fool who seriously thought he could betray the Tsaritsa by pulling the greatest stunt in the entire history of Snezhnaya’s mora business by trying - and failing - to rob the Northland Bank in Liyue. It truly was a shame, since said fool had been one of the more competent recruits in Pantalone’s ranks, understanding the way of mora more than anyone else in his division.
So, naturally, Pantalone took that act of betrayal personally. He didn't deal well with people trying to deceive him. And surely, nobody in his right mind would voluntarily want to wake the slumbering wrath within the Regrator’s carefully crafted composed nature.
Pantalone stepped closer to the man being forcefully held down in front of him. A beautiful ornated, razor-sharp blade was twirling between Pantalone’s slender fingers, his rings reflecting the Liyuen sun.
When he finally stood right in front of the thief, Pantalone didn't feel any ounce of pity for him. Bringing the tip of the blade under the thief’s chin, Pantalone lifted the man’s head so he could see the seething fire of rage behind the Regrator’s calm demeanor.
The man was barely able to see through swollen eyes. Deep cuts were adorning his face, splitting his lips, blood dripping steadily down his chin.
"Oh Yevgeniy", Pantalone drawled with a reproachful tone. "I thought you were one of the good guys. I truly did." With false pity he looked down on the beaten man, shaking his head.
"You know, I was so close to promoting you, to make you one of my closest assistants." Pantalone slowly pressed the blade against Yevgeniy’s throat, cutting deep enough to draw blood but not too much to make the man bleed to death. Yevgeniy winced in fear and pain.
"But as it seems you had other plans, didn't you? Such a shame."
Pantalone withdrew the blade, leaning down so Yevgeniy could hear him better, hear the fury in the Regrator’s words. Surely, he knew what was about to follow.
"You know the punishment for betraying her majesty. You know the punishment for betraying me." Yevgeniy was now shaking in fear, silent tears running down his cheeks, a desperate pleading look in his bruised eyes.
"Pl-Please, Lord Regrator, don't-". His voice broke in a terrified whimper, eyes breaking contact.
Pantalone tilted his head to the side, his voice sweet but unforgiving. "Maybe you should have thought about the consequences before betraying me."
With a swift movement, Pantalone pushed the blade right into the thief's heart, twisting it. Amidst the sputtering last breaths of the dying man, the Regrator’s voice was clear as day.
"All in the name of her majesty, the Tsaritsa. May your ignoble death be a warning among your comrades."
Pantalone pulled the blade out of the man's body, a horrible squelching sound surrounding them. Right as he wanted to straighten up again, the dying man let out his final breath, accidentally - or intentionally - spitting blood that landed right on Pantalone’s throat and on the top of his suit.
With a disgusted grunt, Pantalone reached into his pockets and pulled out a pristine white handkerchief. He wiped the blood off his face before eyeing the damage on his suit.
"Great, even dead, that disgrace of a man is costing me precious money."
Pantalone cleaned the blade with the fabric, his mood now considerably worsened.
At the same time, he heard frantic footsteps approaching the scene. One of the lower-ranking recruits came running towards him, waving with a piece of paper.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed Pantalone’s unusually terrible mood, bowing even deeper than it was expected of him.
"Lord Regrator", he panted, clearly trying to hide it to not be seen as weak or insufficiently trained. "An urgent message from Snezhnaya, my lord."
Impatiently, Pantalone ripped the letter from his recruits’ hands, teared it open and read the short message it contained.
Oh, so it seemed they finally retrieved her body. It was about time, really.
Pantalone pocketed the letter and turned towards the recruit who had now regained his breath. Regarding him with a small smile of gratitude, Pantalone said: "Thank you for your commitment to the cause, soldier."
With a wave of his hand, he then signaled the other recruits standing around to pay attention to his next words.
"As it seems, the remains of our dear comrade La Signora have finally been found." The low rumbling sound of surprise echoed through the group. "My presence as a fellow member of the Eleven is expected at her memorial, so I'll be leaving promptly."
Side eyeing the corpse on the ground Pantalone continued: "I put trust in you to resume your missions as usual. Trust me, you don't want to end like that sad excuse of a man over there, so don't disappoint me."
He scrunched his nose as if smelling an unpleasant smell. "And get rid of him, even the rats are too good for traitors like him."
With that, Pantalone turned around, leaving the group of recruits to deal with the rest. He had to organize his departure as soon as possible if he wanted to get to the funeral on time.
It’s been barely two weeks since he left Snezhnaya, though he already longed to be back there. Not for the funeral, Gods no. Not even for the cold or the comfort of his office.
No, there was something different waiting for him. Or rather someone, really. Blue hair and piercing crimson red eyes were calling for him and Pantalone couldn't wait to follow their call.
***
Pantalone wasn’t sure how much time had passed exactly since the last time all the Harbingers had gathered in one single room. It had to be several years, at least.
In all honesty, it was probably for the best that they didn’t meet more frequently, else La Signora wouldn’t have been the first casualty. It was a miracle, really, that they didn’t rip each other’s throats out – not yet that is - considering some of them were actual bloodthirsty maniacs.
When Pantalone stepped into the large mausoleum for La Signora's funeral, he could practically feel the tension in the room. Columbina’s eerie singing echoed against the stone walls, chilling the air around them even further. Arlecchino seemed to be exceedingly pissed today, Tartaglia looked bored out of his mind already and Il Capitano was hard to read as ever. Out of the corner of his eyes, Pantalone could make out the figure of the only Harbinger he had been looking forward to seeing again, but upon turning his head so he could see them better, his mood dropped.
This was not the Dottore he wanted to see. That was one of his damn clones, one the doctor made over five years ago, twirling around a glass vial with a blue shimmering substance in it. Pantalone didn’t even want to know what kind of substance…
So, Dottore didn’t even care enough to go to one of his closest coworkers’ funerals himself. He was probably busy experimenting on the Tsaritsa knows what in that godforsaken lab of his. Why was Pantalone even surprised?
Before he could dwell on it further, Pulcinella entered the hall. Seeing that every Harbinger was present – well, everyone that wasn’t dead, currently going rogue or not even themselves – he began with the burial ceremony.
When Pierro sometime later gave them the sign that they were free to leave, Pantalone didn’t hesitate long before making his way out of that place. He needed to get something out of his system, the sooner the better.
With a fast pace, he was making his way over to Zapolyarny Palace, crunching through snow and ice. Suddenly he was overcome with the feeling of inhumane, dreading cold.
Turning around, he witnessed the entire mausoleum being encased in never-melting ice, as if to preserve anything that’s in it for eternity. So, the majesty has shown her grief, after all.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing that caught Pantalone’s attention. The cloaked figure of a man with light blue hair came quickly striding towards him.
Not wanting to get involved in a pointless conversation, Pantalone turned around to get away from the man, but the man was faster.
“It’s been a long time, Regrator”, the Doctor’s clone said in a teasing tone. “You look as stuck up as ever.”
Pantalone had half the heart to turn his face in the man’s direction. The clone was grinning widely, its sharp teeth glistening in the icy light of the ever-present ice surrounding them.
“And you look not a day older since we last met, dear Doctor”, Pantalone countered with a self-righteous smile. “Or should I say the last time I met this specific version of yours?”
The fake doctor laughed. “Oh, so you’ve noticed.”
Pantalone was appalled. “Of course I noticed! To my great displeasure, we’ve known each other for far too long to not notice that. How inattentive do you think I am?”
“Well, I don’t think any of the others did, so…”. The grin grew wider, more wicked, more scheming. “But then again, they haven’t had their asses stuffed full of my cock unlike you did. Countless times.”
“You are always so crass", Pantalone sighed. "So, what do you want from me? I'm in a hurry."
"You see, you seem kinda stressed, so I thought maybe I could be of… assistance."
Sensing where this might be headed, Pantalone almost didn't want to ask. He knew that tone, heard it countless times for the last seven years and it had the same effect on him nearly every single fucking time. Without wanting it to, Pantalone's dick twitched in his trousers.
"If you're implying what I think you're implying then the answer is no."
The fake Dottore beside him let out an annoying little groan, almost like a child that didn't get the candy it was screaming for.
"Come on, we'll be quick. I know you're horny, I could sense that from a mile away."
They'd finally reached the palace. Wasting no time, Pantalone pushed open the heavy doors, considering slamming them right back into the clone's face but deciding against it. Only the Tsaritsa knows why.
"And how do you want to know that, huh?" Pantalone was getting annoyed at the clone because he was a) insufferable and b) definitely right. Pantalone was horny, exceedingly so. Which is exactly why he needed the real Dottore immediately.
Another laugh. "Well, you haven't changed at all. I was always able to read you like a book and right now, that book of yours is screaming to be fucked senseless."
Damn that fucking thing. Sometimes Pantalone hated Dottore for creating these minions in the first place. As if one Dottore wasn't already too much, no, there had to be like 10 of him. It was unnerving.
"The answer is still no. So just stop pestering me." They had almost reached the lab, so hopefully, Pantalone would finally get rid of that damn thing soon.
"And why's that? I remember having a rather spectacular time together and I'm basically him, so why not?"
Pantalone was desperately trying to block out the voice of the clone, to keep his boner from popping up even more, because again that clone was right. Even though Dottore was one hell of an eccentric, maniacal, dangerous, and borderline insane mess, there was just something about him that made Pantalone come back to him for all those years.
Maybe he was insane as well.
Without wanting it to, Pantalone didn't think well enough about his next words.
"You are cold, you don't breathe, and you don't have a fucking heartbeat, so no. You two couldn't be more different."
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.
If given the chance, Pantalone would jump down a cliff with spikes at the bottom immediately. Because with that, he had just given Dottore’s clone the actual reason why he just couldn't resort back to getting wrecked by it.
To his immense misfortune, the clone was just as intelligent and fast thinking as the original one.
"Ohhh, I see, I see. You're not just in for the fun, you're in for the whole emotional stuff." The clone cackled with laughter. "Oh, this is sooo good."
Spinning around on the heel of his feet, Pantalone was in the clone's face in an instant, holding it by the scarf it was wearing around its neck, pulling hard.
"I swear to every single God out there, if they exist or not - if you're telling a single living or nonliving thing about what you just heard, I'm going to chop you into so many tiny little pieces even your Original won’t be able to reassemble you."
The threat didn't seem to affect the clone in the slightest. "What makes you think I would care about that? I'm not alive, you just said it yourself."
"I'm pretty sure that doesn't mean that you aren’t able to feel. Otherwise, why would you offer yourself for the pleasure of others if you wouldn't get something in return? Your Original isn't exactly known to be selfless, after all." Nonchalantly, Pantalone shrugged his shoulders. "But well, if you say you won't feel being killed, then I could just do it right here, no? Just to make sure you're not wandering around and speaking about things you aren’t to know anything about in the first place."
Pantalone whipped out his knife. Upon seeing it, the clone flinched ever so slightly. Pantalone grinned triumphantly.
"That's what I thought." He let go of the clone, turning around again to finally get to Dottore's lab. "And now please just leave me alone. I have to discuss some very important things with the real you."
"He isn't even here."
It was like Pantalone had run into an imaginary brick wall. "What the fuck does that mean 'he's not here'?!"
"That he's not here, idiot."
Pantalone had always been proud of his patience, but that man - the real one as well as his clones – had always managed to reduce that patience to almost nothing.
"Well, where is he then?", Pantalone growled through gritted teeth.
The clone shrugged his shoulders, clearly enjoying that it was able to rile up the banker.
"I don't really know, he just said he had some experiment in Sumeru. And that he shouldn't forget to bring his lighter."
He was in Sumeru?! He almost never left his lab, so what the fuck was he doing in Sumeru of all places?
For an embarrassingly long time, Pantalone just stood in the hallway, contemplating every little life decision that led him up to that point.
"How long did he say he'll be gone?" God's, he sounded so desperate, even to his own ears.
The clone shrugged again. "Anything between a week and a year, maybe."
Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Pantalone apparently couldn't even survive two weeks without the doctor's sexual expertise without going insane, how should he manage a whole year?!
Maybe he had to-
The awfully knowing grin on the clone's face told him everything he needed to know. "Maybe you need my company after all, huh?"
Yes. Maybe he did. Maybe he could pretend that it was the real Dottore? At least it had his face and knew how to do it right. Maybe this could work…
No. Just no.
"Just keep telling yourself that", Pantalone huffed. Going to the lab was pointless now, so he could very well just return to his own business. Mora didn't manage itself, after all.
While walking away, he heard the clone call after him. "I'm gonna give you one week before you're going to crawl back here."
Pantalone flipped him off and went back to his own office.
That would be one hell of a long wait.
***
At least the clone was wrong with something.
It took Pantalone exactly three weeks and five days to lose the battle against himself. The part of him that longed for the blue-haired man prevailed, not caring anymore if it would be a clone or the real one. The entire way over to the lab he tried to convince himself that this was a terrible idea, that he should turn around immediately, but his legs wouldn’t obey. They just kept walking.
Still deep in thoughts, Pantalone didn’t watch his steps, rounded a corner, and promptly collided with a firm body. Whoever that was, Pantalone was not in the mood for idle conversations, he was on a mission after all.
But when he looked up to berate the poor soul who dared to collide with a Harbinger, he stopped dead in his tracks.
He found himself face to face with Dottore. The real one. The actual living, breathing, and absolutely real Dottore.
Pantalone took a step back to have a better look at him. Yes, that was undoubtedly the real Doctor. Years and years of fucking the same person all over again gets you to recognize every little thing of the other, all the changes, all the little details.
Without missing a beat Dottore sent him a wide smirk, showing his sharp teeth. “Well, hello there, dear Regrator. Long time no see.” His voice was even lower than that of that annoying clone, sending the banker's blood all the way down to his already hardening cock.
Gods, that damn voice really had always been able to do terrible things to Pantalone’s mind. Dozens of extremely inappropriate fantasies were swirling through the banker’s mind right then, making him feel hot all over.
Without letting any of these thoughts and fantasies show on his face, Pantalone returned the smile, albeit a lot more subtle and with less of a maniacal taint.
“Doctor, how unfortunate to see you again”, he said with his most polite banker voice, tilting his head to the side in a deceivingly friendly gesture.
Dottore grabbed his chest, pretending to be shocked. “Why Regrator. What have I ever done to deserve that hostility?”. He took a step closer, slowly trying to crowd Pantalone against the nearest wall.
Standing his ground, Pantalone didn’t move an inch. In turn, both men were standing even closer together than before, with Pantalone having to slightly look down to be able to look into the doctor's eyes. What a pity they were hidden by that damned mask again.
“Oh, you know me, I’m only nice to those worth my time. And to those who give me money. And you? Are neither of those things, I’m afraid.”
Dottore was now so close in front of him that Pantalone could feel the doctor’s chest pressing against his own. He felt the blood rushing through his veins and his breath hitching due to their proximity. His head felt dizzy with all these fantasies running wild in his head.
The doctor’s voice was now barely more than a low rumble. “Ouch, your words hurt me. Any chance you’ll change your mind anytime soon?”
Pantalone shook his head, pouting his lips apologetically. “I’m afraid not. But maybe you can shorten that time by answering some questions?”
Suddenly, the banker felt his back hitting a solid presence. Without even realizing it Pantalone had let his guard down and Dottore, being the ever-observing man that he was, took his chance to finally push the banker against the wall. Lean gloveless fingers sneaked under Pantalone’s button-upped shirt, softly brushing over his belly towards his right hip, immediately setting Pantalone’s nerves ablaze. Dottore's other hand was pressed against the wall right next to Pantalone’s head, encasing him.
Oh, that just wouldn’t do. On the one hand, Pantalone didn’t mind being pushed against the wall, not even in the slightest… but on the other hand, he wasn’t too fond of anyone finding out about their little fling. Standing right there in the open where just anyone could see them was a rather dangerous game Pantalone wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to play.
“Oh, someone’s looking for wisdom. That I can understand.” The doctor’s grin turned sly. Apparently, he didn’t care if someone would see them. “So, what is it you wish to know? The answer to infinite wealth? No wait, you’ve already got that covered, I believe.”
Pantalone rolled his eyes. Why that man could never be serious about anything was beyond him.
“With that you’re correct. What a foolish thing to think that I of all people want to inquire knowledge about wealth. No, it’s something different I want to know from you.” Screw them being basically served on the silver platter - Pantalone leaned closer, bringing his lips so close to Dottore’s they were almost touching.
“Rumor has it you’ve been busy with a little experiment of yours in Sumeru. Any progress with that?”
With something akin to surprise Dottore swayed back a little. “Rumor, eh? Well, I’ve been there, but that damn girl I was looking for is probably even more guarded than that ridiculous little thing they call an archon. That insufferable brat Tartaglia once mentioned is circling her like a hawk, together with an insanely large group of other irritating fools, all wielding these oh-so-precious visions. No way of getting to her right now if I don’t want my head to get cut off.”
Pantalone nodded and placed his hands on Dottore’s broad chest, caressing up to his neck, drawing fine lines over the almost invisible veins in his throat. “Yes, that would be a shame. I’d rather see your head being attached to the rest of yours.” He kept one hand on the doctor’s collar, playing with it, while he placed the other firmly on his chest, right over Dottore’s heart. It was beating steadily under his skin. “So, what did you do then? I refuse to believe you just gave up. That would be … disappointing, to say the least.”
Dottore let out an incredulous laugh. “Me and giving up isn’t mixing well. No, I’ve left my mark before retreating.” He snapped his fingers. “Their precious tree of wisdom - now reduced to mere ashes.”
The image of Dottore standing in front of a hellfire of burning wood and leaves, engulfed in the flames, relishing in his work, was doing unspeakable things to Pantalone’s body. It was probably only a matter of seconds before his so hard-fought self-control vanished in a crashing wave of lust and longing.
He stepped even closer, bringing their lower bodies so close they were touching … which was a terrible mistake. Pantalone could practically feel the impact their conversation had on the Doctor as well, which made it all the harder to retain his calm.
“Well, it seems like you can now add arson to that ever-growing list of atrocities of yours. Deplorable.” Pantalone’s voice was merely anything more than a hoarse whisper, almost breaking at the last word. The Doctor’s face had come closer again and Pantalone was already almost reduced to a whimpering mess. He was breathing hard and had to lean his head against the wall for support.
Dottore’s low snicker was right next to Pantalone’s ear, making his knees buckle. Goosebumps were spreading all over his body and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could control himself. “My, I would call it exciting. In our ranks it’s hard to keep up with the title of the most searched criminal in existence, isn’t it?” The Doctor was now playing with the jeweled chain hanging down from Pantalone’s glasses. The banker could feel his piercing gaze even through that terrible mask. To hell with that hideous thing, he wanted that to be gone.
In a last breathless attempt of regaining some control, Pantalone sighed: “When it’s your aim to be recognized for bringing fire and blood to the people, please, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.”
He couldn’t focus anymore. All he could feel was the doctor's hot gaze on him, his chest heaving against him, seemingly equally as riled up, and the doctor’s thick cock pressing up against his own.
“Of course you aren’t.” Dottore’s lips were now basically touching his own. Onehandedly, he slowly started unbuttoning Pantalone’s shirt, exposing his throat, and brushing long fingers over the sensitive skin. “Speaking of it - I recall you being rather drawn in by fire and blood, aren’t you, little banker?”
That was simply too much. To hell with that.
“Oh, shut up, won’t you”, Pantalone moaned, utterly turned on, his dick, painfully hard and throbbing, begging to be finally released from the prison of his trousers.
In a heartbeat he grabbed Dottore by his collar and pulled him towards him, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss.
Finally. Oh, fucking finally.
The kiss was brutal. Teeth were grazing lips, drawing small drops of blood. Shuddering moans ripped out of them, with none of them knowing who exactly made these sounds. Probably both.
Hands searched for a better hold, gripping hair, scraping nails over scalps. Even more moans, sounding increasingly animalistic.
It was like they were reduced to their mere instincts, taking what they thought was best for them.
When Pantalone felt hands on his thighs - groping tightly, hopefully leaving bruises - short of lifting the Harbinger into the hair, his first instinct was to wrap his legs around Dottore’s hips. He wanted this, he needed this, desperately. Now.
But somewhere deep in the back of his mind a voice screamed to him that they should probably take this somewhere more private.
With a lot of force, Pantalone ripped himself away from Dottore’s lips, bringing a little distance between them. He instantly regretted it.
Dottore seemed to not like that change at all, gripping his legs even harder, painfully digging his fingers into the bankers’ delicate thighs, making it even more difficult for Pantalone to not reclaim his lips right then and there and let the doctor ravish him in that very hallway.
The doctor snarled. "Who gave you permission to stop?", he growled while trying to connect their lips once more.
Pantalone swayed his head back. "As much as I'd find it exciting to try our luck and see how long it would take for anyone to find us devouring each other, I don't think that's the best idea", he panted, air being pushed out of him in ragged breaths. Being unable to tear his gaze away from Dottore’s swollen lips, Pantalone hungrily licked over his own, tasting a faint trace of blood.
"Maybe we should continue this somewhere more private where you can devour me whole, dearest Doctor." Pantalone didn't even have to try to sound seductive. He was so incredibly turned on the seductiveness came naturally with the circumstances.
The prospect of being allowed anything to the banker seemed to appeal to the doctor.
"Fuck", he growled once more. With a brush of his hand, Dottore tried to slick back a stubborn lock of hair. His mask was askew, and the tiniest bit of a scar was peeking out of it, something the doctor was so desperately trying to hide. "Fuck, you're right. For probably the first time in your life." Dottore’s voice was filled with barely covered frustration. Considering the pressure of his dick against Pantalone’s thigh it was painfully obvious that the doctor needed that as much as the banker.
With a sudden push, Dottore detached himself from Pantalone, taking the welcoming warmth and pressure of his body with him. He grabbed the banker's hand and pulled him with him down the hallway.
Pantalone was confused. "This is not the way to your lab? Where the fuck are you going?"
Dottore sent him a cocky grin over his shoulder. "You wanted to indulge in a bit of exhibitionism, right? Well, I know a place where anyone can hear us, at least. So, you better be quiet if you don't want the whole palace to find out what a nasty little hoe you are, so desperate to take my cock you can't even wait until we're somewhere private."
Okay, maybe Pantalone really wanted to be taken by that maniac right then and there. The man just had a way of saying the nastiest things and it still had Pantalone on his knees in an instant, no questions asked.
Pantalone didn't reply, too stunned to speak anyway. And even if he could, he wouldn't trust himself to not beg the doctor to take him in front of all their fellow Harbingers. Knowing the insanity of that man, he probably would.
The banker just let himself be dragged towards another hallway. Even though this one was currently empty as well, Pantalone knew that that probably wouldn't be the case for much longer. That hallway was directly connected to several conference rooms, all of them frequently in use.
They reached an unsuspecting door, a little window with tinted glass in the middle, and upon opening it Pantalone recognized the room behind it as one of the many supply rooms scattered around the palace. With a last look in each direction, Dottore impatiently pushed Pantalone into the room, following suit and pulling the door close behind him. The room was small, barely big enough for both to comfortably fit in. Which was not lowering his maddening arousal in the slightest.
The room was quite dark, only a bit of light filtering in through the tinted glass. It was bright enough to at least make out the others' outlines though and hopefully dark enough to prevent any prying eyes from peeking in.
Luckily, the door had a lock, which clicked with a maddening finality when Dottore turned it.
Finally, they were alone, and nothing was stopping them from continuing their little adventure.
Dottore was in Pantalone’s space in an instant, gripping his face between his hands and shoving his mouth against the bankers, his tongue immediately trying to snake into Pantalone’s mouth. Without any ounce of resistance in his body, Pantalone let him in, wrapping his arms around the doctor's neck, pulling him closer, and forcefully gripping his blue hair. The low moan of the doctor was getting straight to Pantalone’s dick.
Desperately for any sort of friction, the banker ground his hips against Dottore’s, eliciting another moan when their clothed cocks brushed against each other.
The other's mask was now cutting uncomfortably into Pantalone’s skin, now and then colliding with the banker's glasses, making it hard to continue the brutal ravishing of each other's mouths. Pantalone gripped the sides of Dottore’s mask.
"Please", he simply whimpered between kisses. "Please let me see you."
Without complaint, Dottore nodded without breaking the kiss, giving his non-vocal okay for Pantalone to rip off that damn thing and throw it somewhere behind them. That mask was sturdy as fuck, it would probably survive a little abuse like that.
Kissing was so much easier with that thing off and even though it was way too dark to see properly, Pantalone could still feel the faint scar over Dottore’s left eye. With a gentleness that contradicted their every move, he brushed a finger over it, feeling every inch of scarred tissue, wanting to show Dottore that he accepted that part of him, loved it, really. It was something only he was allowed to see. Come to think of it, Pantalone wasn't sure if Dottore had ever taken that mask off in front of any of the other Harbingers. Most possibly not, considering the massive amount of self-consciousness the man felt over that scar.
Knowing that he was the only one allowed to see the doctor that vulnerable made something snap inside Pantalone. He couldn't take it any longer.
"Fuck me, Dottore", Pantalone moaned against the other's lips. "Take me. Destroy me. Make me yours."
The absolute inhumane groan that ripped out of Dottore was almost enough to send Pantalone over the edge.
“With fucking pleasure.” Dottore’s voice was strained and dripped with lust. Without missing a beat, he spun Pantalone around and pressed him chest first into the nearest supply cabinet. A loud ripping sound and sudden cold on his legs told Pantalone that his trousers had just fallen prey to Dottore’s animalistic craze.
If the banker had half the mind, he would chastise the doctor for ruining his clothes, but being occupied with way more pressing measures at hand, he simply let out a breathy "You’re a fucking brute" before moans overtook him at the feeling of two fingers prodding at his entrance. The fingers were slick, probably with spit, but Pantalone wouldn’t put it past Dottore to actually carry a vial of lube everywhere he walked.
"I know you love it, pretty boy." A simple answer, a simple nickname, and yet it made Pantalone’s skin crawl with arousal. Long fingers were already pushing in and out of him at an alarming pace, reducing the banker to mere moans of pain and pleasure. He would feel this afterward, that’s for sure, but Pantalone loved the stingy feeling, as it reminded him of these precious hours of sin with the Doctor.
Impatiently, Pantalone pushed his hips back, wanting to feel more of those fingers, when suddenly they found what they were looking for. A loud moan was ripped out of him as his prostate was mercilessly prodded against.
A low snicker behind him. “You really want all of them to hear you being fucked stupid, don’t you?” There was no doubt of Dottore’s own arousal, his voice so deep and hoarse Pantalone almost couldn’t make out his words.
Pantalone huffed. “Maybe… but, nghh - but they won’t if you, hah, fuck - won’t just fucking get on with iiiiiiit, oh FUCK-”. The sudden feeling of Dottore’s cock being pushed into him at full pace had him screaming out those last words. He was already so close, it was embarrassing. Shit!
Pantalone arched his back, trying to get more friction when Dottore started his brutal pace. Pulling almost all the way out only to slam back in even harder than before. Again. And again. And again.
Every single inch of Pantalone’s body was on fire. The merciless pace of Dottore rutting into him had him reduced to a whimpering mess, hands desperately gripping the cabinet in front of him for leverage. He heard more ripping sounds, buttons falling on the floor. Now his shirt was ruined as well, but he couldn’t possibly care less. There was a hand creeping up his chest, pinching his sensitive nipples. Lips were pressing kisses all over his exposed neck, biting and sucking and driving the banker absolutely insane. Dottore’s other hand firmly held onto Pantalone’s hips to make sure every single thrust was reaching its destination, gripping hard enough to bruise, nails just long enough to bite into the skin.
Somewhere far away Pantalone heard the sound of a door falling shut, but he was so blissfully out of it that he didn’t ponder on it. Dottore on the other hand stopped his brutal ministrations, much to Pantalone’s distaste.
Angrily furrowing his brows, Pantalone turned around. “What the fuck do you think you’re doi-”. He didn’t get any further because of Dottore’s hand pressing over his mouth, effectively blocking any sound escaping the banker's pretty lips. Dottore then leaned over to bring his lips close to Pantalone’s ear, slowly continuing to rock his hips. Pantalone’s eyes rolled back in bliss.
“I know you lose all sense of your surroundings once you’re stuffed full of my cock, pretty boy. But as much as I’d love to see them watching you desperately begging for more, I’m pretty sure that that’s not something you actually want, so I’m just trying to save you from an early death of embarrassment.” His hand was still on Pantalone’s mouth, but his thrusts were slowly gaining speed again.
“Consider me being concerned for my own interest. I’m not ready to lose my favorite toy yet, mister.”
Pantalone couldn't breathe, which made him even harder, which then again made this whole situation even worse to handle. He felt the control over his own body escaping him rapidly with every perfectly aimed thrust against his sweet spot, seeing stars every time. Dottore really wasn’t someone who aimed for anything less than top-notch perfection and for once, this was benefiting the banker as well.
And fuck, how much it was benefiting him.
With a weak nod, Pantalone gave the doctor the sign that he had understood. With a particularly hard thrust, he released Pantalone’s mouth, who immediately shoved his own hand against it to stop himself from moaning yet again. Both of the doctor's hands were now resting on Pantalone’s hips for better leverage, regaining his brutal pace from before once more.
At this point, Pantalone was so far gone, that he couldn't even concentrate on standing on his own two feet anymore. Dottore’s unassumingly strong hands, pressing Pantalone against him, grinding his cock again and again in the banker's obscenely stretched hole, were the only reason he was being held upwards. Hot tears of bliss were threatening to spill from his eyes.
Suddenly, voices were passing right in front of their room.
“Honestly, I’m not even mad that she’s dead. She was a stuck-up bitch and I’m glad to be rid of her”, a man with a raspy voice exclaimed.
“Are you fucking nuts? Just talk a bit louder, will you? I don’t think the whole palace has heard you yet.” The second man seemed much younger and way more afraid of his superiors. As he should, really. Just from that brief conversation, Pantalone could feel Dottore tensing up behind him, his hands gripping even harder into the banker's sides. Pantalone had to forcefully suppress a moan, biting hard on his hand, when Dottore picked up his pace even more, even more brutally. Someday, that doctor seriously was going to be the death of him.
“Chill, nobody’s here.”
“Still. The Eleven are everywhere. I don’t want the Knave suddenly showing up and cutting my throat. So shut up or you get us both killed!”
The two men bickered a bit more until their voices faded. Pantalone let out a shuddering moan he’d been holding the whole time.
“The fucking disrespect”, Dottore snarled behind him. “If I ever hear my subordinates talking like that, I’ll kill them all.”
Something about the doctor’s voice, that raw anger, his words, his violent ministrations against Pantalone’s insides had him gasping for air. His cock was angrily bobbing up and down against the banker’s stomach, screaming for attention.
“Please, Doctor”, he stammered. He tried sneaking one of his hands towards his cock, but his hand was forcefully bent behind his back. The motion was forcing the banker to stand upright, back pressed against Dottore’s fully clothed chest while the doctor's cock was still inside him, meticulously pressing against his prostate. Pantalone let his head loll backward, hitting Dottore’s shoulder. He turned his head, so his neck was fully exposed.
“Look at that, the little banker is desperate for his release.” Sharp teeth were grazing against the soft skin of Pantalone’s neck. “I’m curious if I can make you cum with just my cock in your delicious ass. Let me see what a little whore you really are.”
Pantalone’s head was spinning. The irresistible scent of sex, precum, and sweat was filling his mind, clouding his senses. His dick was so fucking hard it hurt just thinking about it, precum leaking out of it like a fucking waterfall. The friction in his ass was so good, so rough, so right.
“Fuck, Dottore -” Moan after moan was being ripped out of him now. “I’m so close, fuck. Please, just please.” Every single time Pantalone swore to himself that he would not beg, under any circumstances. And every single time he was proven wrong in the most breathtaking and world-shattering ways possible.
When the teeth gnawing at the skin right under his ear sunk deep enough to draw a faint trail of blood, the delicious pain running through Pantalone’s body at lightning speed combined with a particularly hard thrust that threatened to rearrange his guts was enough to finally send him over the edge.
With a guttural groan Pantalone came, his orgasm so powerful he was sure he blacked out for a second. Hot bursts of cum splattered all over his abdomen, coming and coming and coming, covering him and the cabinet before him in white.
Behind him, he felt rather than heard Dottore moaning against his neck. His entire body shuddered against Pantalone’s, one, two, three more hard thrusts, putting all his power in them. Then there was blinding hotness blossoming deep inside him, filling him up to the brim.
Coming down from that incredible high, Pantalone now felt every single trace of power leaving his body. He let himself sink against Dottore’s chest, utterly spent, and satisfied, trusting the other to keep him from falling. And true, the Doctor held him firmly in his arms, panting heavily, resting his head on top of the bankers.
“You drive me insane, you know that?” Pantalone mumbled tiredly.
A low chuckle behind him. “Well, I’m trying my best to be the most insufferable presence in your life, baby.”
Pantalone had to fight to keep his eyes from closing. “And how insufferable you are, dear”. Gathering all his strength, Pantalone pushed himself upwards into a more standing position, slowly detaching himself from Dottore’s cock that was still buried deep inside him, gradually getting limp. The moment it slipped out of his hole he missed its feeling already. Instead, he felt the doctor’s cum leaking out of him, slowly running down the inside of his thighs.
He turned around so he could look into Dottore’s eyes. Even through the darkness, he could see the dark red of his irises, burning holes into Pantalone’s, already sending shivers down his spine again. The effect this man had on him was out of his world and most probably not healthy, but what was life without a little bit of excitement now and then, huh?
“Don’t let this get to this already gigantic ego of yours, but…” Pantalone took one of Dottore’s hands into his own, brushing softly over his digits - and to his immense pleasure - eliciting goosebumps all over it. “I missed you.”
Dottore brought Pantalone’s hand close to his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, believe me, this will go straight to my ego, thank you very much”, he quipped before closing the distance and gently kissing each of Pantalone’s fingers while not breaking eye contact even once.
That was Dottore’s way of saying he missed him as well. He simply was just like that, incredibly big on stringing intelligent words together, but outrageously bad at outright stating his feelings, always hiding them behind little gestures like this or behind complex monologues and ramblings that no person in the world could decipher except for Pantalone.
That’s been their dynamic ever since they first enjoyed the company of the other seven years ago. That's how it would be for the remainder of their time together. And Pantalone was fine with that. Most of the time.
Right then he was more than fine with it, the afterglow of that mind-boggling orgasm still tingling in his veins, overshadowing every ever so slight negative thought. Right then, everything was perfect.
Except for-
Pantalone’s eyes fell on his destroyed trousers laying below their feet. “You know, you are paying for those. And for the shirt as well. They were expensive.”
Dottore’s laugh was pure, genuine. “And here I thought you were the one with money, my dear banker.”
“Well, you can gladly destroy me, but not my clothes. I’m a banker like you obviously are aware of. I have to look presentable, aren’t I?” It was so amazingly easy to fall into mindless banter with the doctor, to joke around, to insult but never hurt. Maybe that was part of why Pantalone just couldn’t get away from that man - being with him was exciting, intoxicating, and simply easy.
Suddenly there were hands on his waist again, pulling him flush against Dottore’s chest, one hand sneaking down to his ass once more. “My, you are such a tease, you know that? Truly astonishing.”
Pantalone licked his lips, an alluring gleam in his eyes.
“Well, maybe I’m just trying my best to be the most insufferable presence in your life, dear.”
With that, Dottore captured him in another breathtaking kiss.