Yesterday - Bucciarati Fanfiction

Chapter 25 - Ravenous of your touch

Warning: there is some NSFW, it'll be shown in bold that way if you do not wish to read it, you can skip it. It does not impact on the story line.

"Yo, bella there's someone behind you..." Mista said in a way too calm tone. He kept staring at the screen, as if he was trying to see what it was, but that was too badly played. I did not believe him. "Har-har, if you don't want to talk about it just say it don't- FUCK-" Feeling hands on my shoulders, I reacted quickly by giving a sharp hit with my elbow to the person behind me, the clatter of the wooden spoon echoing in the room. I turned around quickly and regretted it as I saw Bruno with a hand on his stomach, bended over lightly with a wince. In the background I could hear Mista laughing his ass off, "I didn't think you'd react like that!! It's too hilarious, I should have filmed it! Is this true love? Hitting your boyfriend when he comes home?- Yo Bucciarati are you good?" Turning around quickly, I rushed to the phone, "We'll talk later, this is not over you little shit," I paused, "But be careful." Then I hung up and placed my phone down before going back to Bruno. "Hey I'm sorry, you surprised me. I didn't hear you come in, are you alright?" I placed my hand over his side, feeling him to check if there was any damage. I scoffed, that is giving myself too much credit, that simple hit would not hurt him much. Delicately, Bruno took my hands as he straightened his back and pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I'm alright, I can take a hit my love. I'll remember to not surprise you next time." He said softly as he gazed down at me, his eyes scanning my face before setting on my cheek. It made him scowl. "Who did this?" Shaking my head, told him it was nothing, barely a scrap, "Risotto Nero tried to intimidate me," Walking backwards with Bruno's arms still around me, I lowered the heat of the stove to avoid burning everything. "I'm not going to lie, it kind of worked but I'm alright." I told him with a slight chuckle, but he did not laugh in return. The scowl never leaving his face, he brought a hand to my face and brushed his thumb over the small scratch. "Did he do anything else?" I looked askance, which only unnerved Bruno more as a grunt escaped is throat.

"It's alright, just another scratch on my side and he stabbed my thigh but Giorno fixed it, it's still very sore but-" The moment I said I had another scratch, his eyes wandered everywhere on my body, he then moved his hands to the knot of the bathrobe and I held him back. "Hey, hey, what- uh what are you doing?" If I had known he was almost home I would have gotten changed, but I did not have time to do that. Looking at me like it was obvious, he told me he needed to see where Risotto hurt me. "But I told you it was alright; look I'll show you what Giorno fixed if you want." Maybe that would suffice and he wouldn't push any further, so I got out of his embrace and hopped on the counter before raising the hem of the robe so that he could see that my thigh was absolutely fine. However, he did feel the need to touch it and take a good look, "Maybe- yep avoid doing that, it still hurts a bit." The raven-haired man stopped his touching then took both of my hands and put them on his cheeks, "I'm sorry I wasn't there." He whispered as he placed a kiss on my hand. I laughed lightly as I brushed my thumbs over his face, "It's all good, he was just being petty for what happened with you and Prosciutto. But now you're even." The way his eyes lit up with anger, I realized I shouldn't have said that. Focusing his eyes to the side, he mumbled, "You're hurt because of me, then." How many times could I fuck up in one night? Perhaps if I shut up, I could still save this. Right now he needed reassurance, "No, no, he was just- he- hey he's an asshole, we don't reason with assholes, right?" that made him chuckle, "Plus the other cuts are kind of my fault, so..." that seemed to have intrigued him, at least he wasn't being all angry at himself and his choices, which was good. Quirking a brow, he placed both of his hands on my thighs and slowly sliding them higher. I'm sure he did not mean for it to be so hot, but everything and anything he did was hot. And I was starting to feel pretty warm all over. "He did not like my comparison of him with you, I guess." His hands tightened around my skin, his eyes were filled with something other than anger, but it was just as passionate. Was it, jealousy?