SURVIVING EMILIO

DANTE'S POV

Dante's steps were quick, almost instinctive, as he followed Emilio into the rocky hideout. He could feel the heat of Emilio's flare-up even from a distance,

He wasn't used to this. Normally, people took what Dante threw at them, didn't bristle so easily. But Emilio? There was something different about him. Something that made Dante want to figure out why his reaction had been so extreme.

He caught up with him just as Emilio reached the edge of the rocky wall, his back stiff with frustration.

"Why'd you flare up like that?" Dante's voice was a mixture of confusion and curiosity, and he couldn't hide the bit of frustration creeping into his tone. "It was just a joke."

Emilio didn't turn around, his body trembling with restrained anger. "I don't need your stupid jokes," he snapped, still not facing him. "It's just... you don't get it."

Dante stepped closer, his presence looming. Without giving Emilio the chance to step away, Dante reached out and grabbed both of his hands. The sudden touch sent a wave of heat over Emilio's skin, but Dante held on, not letting go. "Can't you grasp it? That was just me easing my frustrations," Dante's voice was low and steady, his grip firm but not harsh.

Emilio's chest rose and fell rapidly, and Dante could see the way his jaw tightened, trying to hold back something. His face flushed with the raw emotion he was fighting to hide. "You always look for weird ways to ease those frustrations," Emilio snapped back, his voice trembling. His hands twitched in Dante's hold, but he didn't try to pull away. Dante couldn't help but notice how the redness of his face deepened, how much the tension was eating at him.

"That's okay, brother." Dante's voice softened, offering a quiet reassurance. He gave Emilio's trembling hands a casual pat, the gesture almost casual, but there was a gentleness to it that Emilio hadn't expected.

The brief, almost intimate touch seemed to have an effect. Emilio's body slowly relaxed, the tremor in his hands subsiding bit by bit. 

Dante could feel the change in the air as Emilio stopped resisting, his anger still there but tempered by something else. Maybe it was the realization that Dante wasn't trying to hurt him.

Dante barely had time to process what was happening.

One second, Emilio stood before him—flushed, tense, furious—and the next, he was dropping to his knees like something inside him had snapped. Dante's breath caught as he watched Emilio's shaking hands reach for his zipper.

"What the—"

He should've stepped back. Should've stopped it.

But he didn't.

His chest tightened, heart pounding as Emilio moved with a strange mix of hesitation and desperation—like he didn't fully know what he was doing but needed to do it anyway. Dante stood still, too stunned to breathe.

Emilio unzipped his trousers, his hand quickly gripped and swallowed his cock. 

His cock wasn't aroused at first but when Emilio plunge it into his mouth, it hardened quickly with a force.

One moment, Emilio was trembling in front of him, eyes glossy and breath uneven, and then—he knelt down

His lips swallowed his cock.

Dante froze.

Everything inside him jolted like a wire short-circuiting. His heart skipped, stumbled, and then raced, thudding wildly in his chest. 

Emilio's mouth was warm, unsure, tasting faintly of panic and desperation.

Dante didn't move.

He couldn't.

It wasn't because he was disgusted—no, that wasn't it. It was the shock. The newness. He'd never been swallowed by a man. Emilio was a man, and every instinct screamed at him to push Dante away.

Dante's breath hitched hard in his throat, a curse slipping between his teeth.

Emilio's face was flushed—cheeks red, lashes lowered—and his mouth was wrapped around his cock,

The sight made something jolt through Dante's chest. He wasn't sure if it was shock or heat—or both.

He should've stopped it. Should've said something. But all he could do was watch, frozen in place, as 

Emilio moved with quiet desperation like he needed to prove something. Like this was the only way he could take back control.

Dante's hand hovered in the air before landing gently in Emilio's hair, not pushing—just there.

He stared down at the boy on his knees, stunned. Not just by the act—but by him. Emilio's lips, his flushed skin, and the way his brows tightened like this meant more than it should.

"Look at you, surrendering," Dante said, his voice low and steady, his palms resting lightly on Emilio's head.

Emilio didn't flinch. His eyes, though lowered, held a fire that made Dante pause. Without hesitation, Emilio pulled back, his gaze meeting Dante's with a steady challenge.

"I'm not surrendering," Emilio shot back, his voice tight, but clear.

Then swallowed it again.

Dante's hands remained on Emilio's head, but his grip loosened as Emilio choked on his cock. "Ah"

He moaned it was Unbearable for him and he needed to burst out.

Seeing Emilio on his knees excited him and he was so good with his tongue. His tongue danced at the tip of his cock, then swallowed back into his throat.

"Fuck" Dante groaned, his voice strained, almost like a cry. "This is driving me crazy."

But Emilio wasn't paying attention. But did that thing he did with his tongue in his cock and swallowed it whole again like a pro. He was more skilled than the women.

"I can't hold it back," Dante muttered, voice strained. His breathing came in shallow, ragged gasps, each inhales shaky as his chest rose and fell in quick succession. His pulse pounded in his ears, the air thick with heat as he fought to control himself.

 Dante expected Emilio to pull away, But to his surprise, Emilio stayed there.

And then, with a force that took him by surprise, Dante exploded as Emilio's mouth swallowed him, his body tensing as a surge of pleasure rushed through him, overwhelming his senses.

Emilio pulled off slowly, his breath heavy and a white thing stuck at his lips.

"Fuck. Sorry," Dante muttered, his voice low and tinged with frustration.

Dante watched as Emilio slowly pulled away, his expression bewildered, like he couldn't quite process what had just happened. 

His eyes flashed, darting to the ground, then back to Dante, as if searching for some sign of what this meant. 

The breath he took was shaky, his chest rising and falling in quick bursts. Dante felt a shift—an unexpected vulnerability from Emilio. 

But before he could say anything, the sound of rustling from the bushes snapped both of their attention to the darkness. A low creak followed by an unmistakable crunching of leaves. Someone was out there.