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five_steps_back) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2012-01-13 07:06 pm
five_steps_back) wrote in rainbowfic2012-01-13 07:06 pm
Lots of Colors with Eraser, Pastels, Interactive Art, and Portrait
Name: Kelly and Nikki
Colors: Tyrian Purple 16 (dawn's rosy fingers), Olive Green 9 (Cupid's Corner), and Alice Blue 25 (at the time it all seemed quite natural) for Nikki; French Grey 13 (It is a question of cubic capacity. A man with so large a brain must have something in it.), Royal Purple 8 (In my defense God me defend.), and Eisenhower Green 14 (every kung fu movie ever made can't be wrong) for Kelly
Supplies and Materials: Eraser; Pastels (my current gen+romance card fororigfic_bingo, G3. toys and games) for Kelly and (my current gen card for origfic_bingo, I3. fast and loose) for Nikki; Interactive Art; Portrait
Story: Phase and Polyfaceted; this (FINALLY) takes place in the TOWNOID (The One Where Nobody Important Dies) AU. The title of this is 'What Happens in Vegas.'
Summary: Nic and Andy do something that most typical drunk couples do while in Vegas.
origfic_bingoorigfic_bingoWord Count: 7,659
Rating: NC-17
Warnings and Notes: Rough consensual sex. Takes places in March 2006.
To be quite honest, Andy was very, very drunk. It was the second night of his and Nicoletta’s three day trip to Vegas (her idea for their one year anniversary—dating, not marriage) so that was probably to be expected. Considering that he’d drunk about as much as Nic had, he’d say that they were about the same level of intoxicated and the night was going pretty good so far. Still, he was surprised when he was able to hear his phone ring over the sounds of the bar, much less pull it out of his pocket and answer it with minimum difficulty.
“Hello?”
“You have no idea how annoying it is that you can talk just fine no matter how drunk you are, because then I have no idea what I can convince you to do. Are you Vegas drunk yet?” Sarah asked.
“No,” Andy lied before turning to Nicoletta. “It’s Sarah.”
“What does she want?” she asked, signaling the bartender.
“Don’t know. What do you want, Sarah?”
“Have you had a Ménage a Trois yet?”
“What? No. What?”
“You sound guilty, tree man. What’s up with that?”
“I’m not guilty, Sarah. I’m drunk,” he dryly told her. “What do you want?”
Sarah laughed, the brat, before she answered him. “It’s a drink the bar at your hotel has. It’s, like—the best of the best of Las Vegas drinks.”
Rolling his eyes, Andy turned to Nicoletta again as the bartender made his way over. “She wants to know if we’ve had some famous Las Vegas drink called a Ménage a Trois yet.”
Nicoletta looked at the bartender. “Ménage a Trois. What’s in it?”
He dutifully answered, “It’s the bar’s signature drink. A cocktail made with Cristal Rosé, Hennessy Ellipse, and Grand Marnier Cuvée Speciale Cent Cinquantenaire, with liquid gold syrup and twenty-three-karat gold flakes on top. It costs three thousand dollars a glass.”
“It’s a really cool drink, Andy,” Sarah spoke, unable to hear the other conversation. “It comes with this solid gold straw and—”
“It has a solid gold straw?” Andy interrupted her, not quite sure if he had heard right.
Nicoletta's eyes lit up in a way that Andy knew meant she was going to spend serious money. "I'll have one," she told the bartender.
"The gold straw has a diamond, Andy," Sarah said, very seriously. "You have to get it."
"Stop, midget, Nic's ordering one now."
"God, I am jealous. You realize you have a sugar mama, don't you?"
Andy blinked. "Your point?"
"What?" Nicoletta asked him.
"She just told me I have a sugar mama." While Nicoletta laughed at that, Andy shook his head and said to Sarah, "Please don't ever say that again."
"Oh, you so do and you know it. So! Married yet?"
"I—married?"
"Who got married?" Nicoletta asked.
"That's the whole point of going to Vegas with your girlfriend," Sarah informed him.
"Apparently, we're supposed to," Andy told Nicoletta before returning his attention to Sarah. "No, the point of coming to Vegas is an awesome hotel room, awesome booze, gambling, and strippers."
"And sex," Nicoletta said, apparently loudly enough for Sarah to hear, because she cracked up.
"Perfect recipe for getting married!" she exclaimed. "You've already got the hotel, you're drunk, you kind of had a bachelor party, even if it was with the future Mrs. Grant, you're fucking all the time, so find one of those twenty-four hour chapels and do it!"
“If all you need from a couple is intoxication, fornication, and a hotel room before you let them get married, I’m honestly going to start worrying about you,” Andy blandly replied, causing Nicoletta to laugh.
“Whatever. Can I have the straw?”
“Bye Sarah.”
“Ask her if I can have the straw!”
Hanging up, Andy turned the phone on silent before shoving it in his pocket. “Do you remember when I didn’t have a midget-sized crazy thing calling me for no reason at all hours of the night? Why should we get married just because we’re in Vegas?”
Nicoletta shrugged, clearly focused on the drink the bartender was making her. "Why the hell not?" she said, much to his surprise. "We've been together for a year." She accepted the drink from the bartender before continuing. "Fuck, I've been monogamous for a year, which is a bigger fucking deal than it sounds like. And my kid thinks you're her dad." She sipped—yeah, that straw looked gold, and it had a diamond, all right—and let out a soft moan.
"Um," Andy said after a moment. "That maybe makes a little too much sense."
"So why don't we?"
“You’re serious?”
“You know me well enough to know that I’m not joking,” Nicoletta shot back, which was very true.
“You’re serious,” he murmured, thinking for a moment—as much as he could with the amount of blood in his alcohol system. “We’ll have to buy to you a ring first, you know. Something nice.”
Nicoletta smiled. “I am perfectly okay with that.”
"Okay," Andy said after a minute, starting to grin like a complete idiot. "Finish your overpriced drink and…I guess we'll go buy a ring."
"Awesome. And it's so not overpriced—try this." Nicoletta passed the drink over to him.
"Okay," he said after a sip. "Maybe it’s not so overpriced. Though I still think a solid gold straw with a diamond is over the top.”
“Of course you do, Andypanda,” Nic teased him, taking her drink back. “You’re stingy.”
He laughed, despite himself. “Oh, you’re going to be a horrible, cruel wife, aren’t you?”
“The sex will make up for it.”
“I already know that.” He grinned before leaning over to kiss her.
She promptly looped her arms around his neck and kissed him back deeply. When they broke apart, she said, "Drink, ring, chapel, bed."
"Excellent order," he agreed. "There are twenty-four hour jewelry stores, right?"
"In Vegas?" She arched an eyebrow. "I pretty much guarantee it."
"We could ask someone?" Andy suggested.
She shrugged and promptly flagged down the bartender. At this point, that kind of thing didn't remotely surprise him. "Where's the closest jewelry store that would still be open?"
"What kind of jewelry store?" the bartender asked.
She gestured to Andy. "I convinced him to marry me."
The bartender glanced between them, then shrugged. "There are a few. Las Vegas Boulevard has a couple."
"Excellent. We're going to need a car," she added to Andy, who shrugged.
"Yeah, I don't think we should drive."
“Of course not,” Nicoletta scoffed, teasing him. “Call for a car. So stingy, just like I said earlier.”
“I’m not stingy!”
“Prove it,” she challenged him.
“Fine. I’ll buy you whatever ring you want, no matter how much it costs,” Andy told her, completely serious. (As serious as a drunken, recently engaged giant could be, anyway.)
“Wow, it’s that easy to get you to do things? You’d get me a ring you couldn’t afford because I dared you?”
“No. I’d get you a ring I couldn’t afford because I love you.”
She smiled, leaning over to kiss him. "You are sweet."
And he potentially had a death wish, if he could summon the ability to actually think about what they were doing for more than about half a second. "Almost done?" he asked, gesturing to her drink.
Nicoletta finished it off and reached for her purse, fumbling a moment before pulling out a credit card that she held out toward the bartender. "I should take off his tip because he carded me," she muttered, and Andy laughed.
"You look younger than you are," he pointed out, but did remember to not actually say she was, well, underage. "Sarah wants to know if she can have the straw, by the way."
"Umm." Nicoletta picked up the straw, studying it. "I don't know. It's pretty. And I like the diamond."
“She’ll probably do something Sarah with it.”
That seemed to make up Nicoletta’s mind for her as the bartender returned with her card and receipt. “She can get one of her own, then.”
“I’ll tell her that. I hope I remember to tell her that.” Andy paused, before laughing. “Actually, I hope at least one of us remembers all of this.”
"Eh, I'll have a ring to clue us in," Nicoletta said dismissively. She signed the receipt and added something on the tip line before passing the receipt and pen back. Then she dropped the straw in her purse and stood, obviously wobbly on her heels.
If she was this drunk, maybe they should rethink things. But that would require more brainpower and less alcohol.
Andy got up from his own stool, a little off-balance himself. "Are we calling a car?" he asked.
"Oh yeah." She found her phone and scrolled through her history, then held the phone to her ear as they cautiously left the bar. "Yeah, I need a car," she said after a moment. "Wynn Hotel. Nicoletta Corlioni." When she ended the call, she looked put out. "It would be nice if people here knew my name," she told Andy, who grinned.
"Finding out what it's like to be a normal person?" he teased her.
"I have never been normal," she said archly.
“No, of course not,” he answered, too solemn to be truly serious. “You’ve always been a princess.”
Nicoletta rolled her eyes, shooting him a look that very much said, ‘Duh.’ “Of course I have. How lucky for you, marrying into money.”
“Especially considering that I meant what I said about the ring.”
Nicoletta smirked. "Don't worry too much. It's not like I can get a custom ring made tonight. Even home, it takes too long."
"You would know that," Andy said, amused.
"Come on, car should be here soon." She headed for the front of the hotel. "And it's not like Daddy would buy us preset when he gets us jewelry. There's more thought in at least picking out the gems."
He shook his head. "Your family, Nic."
“The family you’re marrying into,” she shot back, and that made Andy think that there was something important he should be remembering, before drunkenly deciding he didn’t care. He was getting married! What did he have to care about?
“Should I start figuring out what you like in custom rings, then?” he asked, maybe a little bit serious.
“It’d be a good idea.”
The way she answered told him that she was completely serious, and he grinned. “I’ll start paying attention.”
"Smart man." She slid her hand up along his arm. "I think that's our car." She gestured, and he shrugged, following her. "Here for Nicoletta Corlioni?" she asked the driver, who nodded.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked.
"Two places. Jewelry store that's still open and a chapel."
The driver glanced between them in the same way the bartender had, which Andy suspected meant something, before opening the back door of the car. Nicoletta slid in, no problem, but Andy (unsurprisingly) had to bend nearly double to fit.
“You don’t think I’m too tall, do you?” he asked once they were on their way.
Nicoletta grinned, swinging her legs across his lap. Andy almost automatically placed a hand high on her leg, near her brand, and her grin widened. “No,” she answered, “if you were shorter, your cock probably wouldn’t be as awesome.”
Andy laughed (he thought he heard the driver mutter something, but didn’t catch what it was) and shook his head. “That’s not entirely true. For all we know, my height has nothing to do with that.”
"Entirely possible," she agreed. Then she leaned forward, toward the driver, and said conversationally, "If I was an escort, what makes you think I'd be in fucking Vegas to work? I'd make way more in New York or L.A. or something. Besides," and here she glanced back at Andy and grinned, "he couldn't afford me yet if I was."
Andy blinked. "He thought you're an escort?" Then it caught up to him. "He thought I couldn't be with you if you weren't an escort?"
"What can I say?" She laughed. "I bet he thinks these are fake, too." She grabbed her own breasts. "Which," she added to the driver, "they are so not."
Quirking an eyebrow, Andy smirked. “Do that again,” he said, before glancing at the driver. “And she’s not lying. And I’m with her without paying for her.”
“You aren’t going to say anything about how he thought I was an escort?” Nicoletta asked.
“You can defend your own honor better than I ever could. Why would I say anything?”
"You are so right about that, Andypanda." She leaned toward the driver again, and completely missed the long-suffering look that Andy gave her. "I get that you're just a driver in Vegas and all, but have you seriously never heard the name Corlioni? I've got an uncle in L.A. I mean, Christ." She shook her head before sitting back and turning to Andy to push her breasts together. "You want to fuck my tits after we get married?"
And god, if that didn’t make him instantly hard. Andy was a bit rough when he kissed her in response and pressed her back against the seat. “That is mean,” he almost groaned. “Considering that we still have to get your ring.”
She grinned and leaned in to nip his lower lip, then pulled at one of his lip rings with her teeth. "Oh baby," she teased, "you won't let me physically hurt you, so I have to get off some other way. If that means being a cocktease, I can be a cocktease easily." She slid her hand up along the inside of his thigh as she spoke and stopped devilishly short of said body part.
“Sadist,” Andy accused with a murmur, his hips pressing towards her touch. “You’re going to have a very short wedding if you keep this up,” he warned her, tangling a hand in her hair as he kissed her again. He held Nicoletta close when he sat back in his seat, pulling her into his lap.
"Sadomasochist," she retorted, as close to primly as she could get when she wasn't playing a part for her job. (He'd seen that before, once. The level of "not Nicoletta" she became was just…creepy.) "I don't know if I should marry you if you can't get that right." Apparently to counter having said that, she wriggled in his lap, moving her ass along his cock.
Andy grabbed tight at the swell of her hip, wrapping his other arm around her waist. “I can think of a few other reasons you should,” he told her, sliding his hand up to roughly cup and massage one of her breasts, thrusting his hips against her ass.
"Oh really, Mr. Grant." Nicoletta leaned in to kiss him hard. "What would those reasons be?"
He couldn't help but notice that she hadn't stopped moving her own hips. “All of those reasons you said earlier, for one.” Andy bit at her neck before he spoke again, voice husky. “The sex, for two. And I have easy access to painful body modification methods, so I know you consider that a perk.”
"Oh, right, my kid likes you," she murmured. "And monogamy and sex and excellent use of pain. All right, I'll marry you." She grinned at him and trailed a nail from one of his lip rings to the other. "As long as you promise to remember it's sadomasochist, not just sadist."
“Sadomasochist,” he belatedly corrected himself, kissing her again as the car came to a less than smooth stop. Andy waited until the driver got out of the car to grin at Nicoletta. “Think we’ve made him uncomfortable enough yet? Not that I’m not extremely enjoying this.”
“Of course you’re enjoying it. It’s me.” Sliding out of Andy’s lap and stepping out onto the curb, Nicoletta turned and leaned over. She completely disregarded the fact that the driver was holding the car door open as she continued. “And no. I don’t think he’s uncomfortable enough yet, but he will be.”
Andy grinned. “Fair enough.” He had to adjust himself before he could get out of the car, and he rested a hand low on Nicoletta’s back as they made their way inside.
From nowhere (or, more likely, her purse), Nicoletta whipped out a credit card that Andy recognized from its power to pretty much make his employees pass out: a black AmEx, Centurion. "I need an engagement ring," she announced, and glanced at Andy. "Want wedding rings, too?"
"I thought I'm paying for this."
"You are. This is just getting their attention."
Andy shrugged. "Do you want wedding rings?"
Nicoletta twisted her mouth, then shrugged. "We'll get them custom."
A saleswoman approached them then, all too-white smile and bright eyes. "You need an engagement ring?"
"I do," Nicoletta agreed, and put her card back. "What do you have in platinum, half-carat or more diamond?"
Even though Andy looked at Nicoletta out of the corner of his eye and smirked (he knew she’d go for the best in the store), he still saw the idea of a sale like that make greed light up the saleswoman’s eyes. It was only a few moments later that Nicoletta was looking over a selection, and Andy was avoiding looking at any price tags. He loved her, and he had meant what he said about buying what he could afford, but he still didn’t want to see the prices just yet.
“See anything you like?” he asked, when Nicoletta was examining how one ring glittered in the light.
“I think I just found one.” Scrutinizing the ring on her finger one more time, Nicoletta grinned and the saleswoman was quick to finish their purchase.
Andy very much ignored that he had to hand over the credit card that he usually only kept for business purposes, and he kissed her hard on their way out of the store. “To the chapel?”
"The chapel," Nicoletta agreed, grinning. She slipped her hand into his front pocket as they headed for the car; Andy assumed it was designed purely to make their driver uncomfortable again. Not that he was complaining, considering just where her hand was.
"Chapel," he said to the driver, who was holding the back door open, and when Nicoletta squeezed, he let out a choked breath. "Fast."
"Very fast," Nicoletta agreed. "Longer it takes, the lower your tip." She took her hand from Andy's pocket to get into the car, and he wasn't sure if he was glad for it or not.
Andy climbed in after her, not even waiting for the door to close before he kissed her again. “Very short wedding,” he murmured against her lips, and roughly ran his hand over the brand on her thigh. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’m intrigued. And I’ll hold you to that.” Nicoletta arched up against him, leading Andy to kiss her again, harder this time.
Because they were in Vegas, it only took them a few minutes to find a chapel. Andy didn’t even wait for the car to be fully parked before he opened the back door and hurriedly stepped out. When Nicoletta followed after him, he pressed her against the side of the car for a moment and kissed her deeply.
She was plainly as eager as he was, since he felt her knee sliding up the outside of his thigh, the smooth back of her heel against his calf. She hooked one arm behind his neck, keeping him down to kiss her longer than he'd intended, before they broke apart and she grinned. "You know I'm not changing my name, right?"
"Not even Marcella?" Andy teased as they headed for the chapel.
"Only if you become Andrew Corlioni," she returned, but with the way her hand was on his arm, he figured she didn't mean it.
"Are you here to witness a wedding?" a woman asked, and Andy shook his head.
"Nope. Here to get married."
"All right." She set a pen and sheet of paper on the table in front of her. "Just fill this out, and we'll get you right in."
"God, it's easy to get married here," Nicoletta muttered as they walked over.
“Well, isn’t that a good thing in this situation?” he asked her, looking over the paperwork and quickly filling out his portion before passing it over to Nicoletta. “We wanted this easy and quick, right?”
“If you give me easy and quick, you’re going to regret it,” she retorted.
Andy laughed and slipped a hand under her shirt, tracing random designs on her stomach. “No. Never.”
"You," Nicoletta said, "are a very smart man." She bent to finish the paperwork. "Fast for the paperwork is good. Fast for other things, not so much."
Well, they were technically in a chapel. Andy wouldn't put money on anything more religious than fast weddings happening here, but Nicoletta was still Catholic, so not actually, overtly dirty-talking right now made a kind of sense. And she’d probably hurt him if he dirty-talked here for the same reason.
Was that sobriety he was beginning to feel?
Couldn't be. It had to just be some kind of clarity because he was getting married.
Nicoletta finished and handed the form back to the woman. "How much?"
"Sixty dollars for the license and seventy-five for the service."
Before Andy could get his wallet, Nicoletta handed over cash. "But for God's sake, no organ music," she warned. "I hate that."
“Actually, are we sure we even want a service?” Andy asked Nicoletta. “We could just say our I do’s, sign the paper, and then be on our way back to the hotel…”
He watched her eyes darken with the idea of that, before she grinned and reached out to take back her money from the woman behind the table. “Sex faster, and we’re still married. I like that.” She counted out enough for the license and passed it back over. “Where do we sign?”
"Right at the bottom," the woman said, sounding amused.
Nicoletta grabbed the pen and signed before passing it to Andy. "I do," she said dryly, and he grinned at her.
"I do too." He signed the form, shoved it toward the woman, and they left. Shortest wedding ever.
"We're newlyweds," Nicoletta informed the driver as they got into the car. "You can bitch even less about whatever we do back here."
Andy had to laugh at that, before he pulled Nicoletta onto his lap again to kiss her firmly, biting her lower lip almost enough to bruise. As he'd known it would, that made her moan, and she swung one leg so she was straddling his lap and grinding against him. He grinned against her mouth, before thrusting his hips against hers, a groan in the back of his throat. Andy managed to tear away from her momentarily when the driver got in the car, though she still ground against him and bit at his ear and it took him a moment to talk. “If you get us back to the Wynn as fast as you can, you might still get a tip,” he told the driver, who had already pulled away from the curb, “but if you don’t get there fast enough, we might just fuck in your back seat instead.”
Nicoletta laughed and drew him into another kiss, and Andy slid his hands up her thighs as he responded completely. If he had cared to notice, he would have noticed how the car suddenly sped up. His hand skimmed over the brand on her thigh, which was something she always seemed to like even if it didn't hurt. She tugged on one lip ring with her teeth, and Andy slid his hands under her skirt, half-expecting her to stop him, though he didn't know why. It wasn't as though Nicoletta would care that there was a driver in the car.
"You better leave bruises," she told him. "On my hips, at least."
He grinned, moving one hand back to her brand and the other high inside her thigh, tightening his grip until it was just this side of bruising. “At least,” he agreed, and his grin widened when she moaned again and kissed him harder, dragging her nails down his chest.
“You get off on hurting me, don't you?" she asked, smiling when she pulled back.
He couldn't entirely deny it. "On how much it turns you on."
"Well, obviously. We started fucking because you branded me."
"You're leaving out part of the story," Andy said dryly.
"I don't think the driver deserves the mental picture." Then she leaned back in to kiss him again.
They were back at the hotel before they knew it, and Andy didn’t remember much of the trip up to their room except for kissing and touching Nicoletta any chance he got. Eventually, they managed to get the door to their suite open, and kissing deeply, they stumbled inside. Andy pressed her against the wall before the door had fully closed, kissing her hard and biting her lip. “God, I fucking want you.”
"Oh? I hadn't noticed." Considering her hand was on his cock when she said that, he didn't buy it for a second. "We could fuck right here…"
He grinned as he leaned in to kiss her again. "Against the wall? You won't get as hurt as you want," he pointed out.
"That is a problem," she agreed. "But there's also a floor."
"There is," Andy said, "and I'd pretty much fuck you where ever you wanted right now, however you wanted, but do you at least want to try and make it to the bed?"
"You can carry me there, if you want." Nicoletta grinned before she grabbed his cock again, and squeezed. "But I won't make it easy for you."
"I'm fine with that," he groaned. He kissed her again, biting her lip nearly hard enough to bleed, and she moaned. She squeezed him again, tighter. He thrust against her hand, before he grabbed her by the waist and picked her up, stumbling towards the bedroom. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, Andy shoved a hand up the front of her shirt, roughly squeezing one of her breasts and pinching her nipple.
She pushed her hips against his and bent her head to bite his neck, but not too hard; even drunk, she usually remembered not to go too far, which Andy appreciated. "You still want to fuck my tits?" she asked, and it was his turn to moan.
"God yes, Nicoletta." He managed to reach the bed and dropped her on it unceremoniously. "I just want to fuck you."
"Well then, hurry up." She pulled her shirt over her head and reached for him, and he only resisted long enough to undo his jeans before they could do damage to his cock.
He kissed Nic hard when she pulled him down onto the bed and pulled down the straps of her bra until her breasts were exposed. He roughly groped her, squeezing one in each hand, before he ducked his head to twist his tongue over one of her nipples. Andy only teased her for a few seconds before biting down on her breast nearly hard enough to break the skin. "How do you want me to do this?" he asked, voice rough.
It took her a second to answer, since she gasped hard and arched up into his bite and tossed her head back. "Umm." She caught her breath and grinned at him, undoing the front clasp on her bra to let it fall open, straps still caught on her arms. "Just like this."
Jesus, she was going to kill him with her breasts and the sex and how much he loved her and… everything. He switched his attention to her other breast, biting her just as hard again before he pulled away to strip and then he was over her again. Andy tangled a hand in her hair and pulled sharply when he kissed her. "Have I mentioned that I love you?" he asked, grinning as he sat up to straddle her stomach.
She grinned up at him, gorgeous with her hair spread out under her and his hand in it, her arching into the pain of his tugging on her hair. "Mm, several times tonight. I do like you." Then, oh God, she pushed her breasts together and let her grin turn to an incredibly sexy smirk. "You want?"
"Fuck yes, I want." He pinched one of her nipples hard, almost regretting it when she moaned. The sound made his cock twitch and he decided that he needed to hurry up already. "Where's some lotion?" he asked, surprised he was able to talk.
She lifted up on her elbows and kissed him hard. "Bathroom counter, I left some." She grinned wickedly. "Moisturizing. I bet it's going to feel amazing on your cock…and you get to rub it into my tits…"
He moaned and kissed her, biting her lip hard before getting off her and hurrying to the bathroom. Sure enough, a bottle with a twist cap—a ridiculously expensive one, judging by the frosted glass and the glossy label—sat on the counter, and as he returned to the bed, he shook the bottle upside-down so he'd be able to get it out easily.
"Was this something you had planned before we decided to get married?" he couldn't help but ask with a smirk, pouring some lotion into one hand and setting the bottle on the floor.
"Possibly," she answered, still grinning in that way that turned him on an almost stupid amount.
Yeah, Andy definitely loved her. He rubbed his hands together just enough to warm the lotion up before he started massaging her breasts, firmly kneading her skin and running his thumbs over and around her nipples.
"Ohh," she sighed, lifting up toward his hands. "God, you are good at this, babe. Fantastic with your hands."
She might be into pain, but he also loved it when more vanilla things, like this, turned her on. "You're so hot, Nic."
"C'mon," she urged. "That's enough, go ahead and fuck them."
Andy did not have to be told twice. He swung his leg over her and made sure he didn't actually have his weight on her; she pressed her breasts together, and he thrust between them slowly. God, amazing. He started stroking and caressing her breasts again, moaning as lotion coated his cock. He slowly sped his thrusts, groping her more roughly the faster he moved.
"Fucking love that you let me do stuff like this," he muttered, pinching and pulling at her nipples because he couldn't pull her hair. "So fucking hot."
When she gripped at his ass instead of his hips, just digging her nails in, as she arched into his hands—and also cock—and moaned. The mild shock of pain made him move all the faster, and she grinned at him breathlessly.
"God, so fucking hot," she groaned. "Hot for you, Andy. Want you."
Christ, he would never get tired of hearing her say things like that; he adjusted his hold on her breasts, pressing them tighter around his dick and digging his fingertips in enough to bruise. "Want me to fuck you now?" he asked, voice rough.
She moaned and bit her own lower lip hard before answering. "Keep leaving marks like that. Fuck yes." Her own hands lifted from his ass onto his hips, where she could dig in the pads of her fingers and not her nails.
He groaned, thrusting in between her breasts a few more times before moving from over her. He only stopped long enough to kiss her and to fish the condom out of his wallet, rolling it on almost desperately before he was over her and kissing her again. Andy grabbed her hips hard enough to bruise and slammed into her, and fuck she felt fucking amazing. He cursed breathlessly as he kept his pace, thrusting into her as hard as he could.
"Oh fuck," she gasped, shoving herself up on her elbows to bite him bruisingly. "If you stop…"
He laughed, breathlessly. "Not planning to, babe."
"Good." She moaned, loud, and rolled her hips down to grind toward his cock.
"God," he choked out, grabbing her hip harder with his right hand while his other moved down to clamp over her brand. He pulled her leg up higher, moaning when he thrust into her deeper. "Fuck, Nic. You… so fucking amazing."
"Oh, fucking—Andy, tighter," she ordered, and he tightened his hand on her right leg, right over her brand, and she cried out, loud, as she spasmed around him, throwing her head back as she cried out. Her own hands tightened on his hips, and it took her a damn long time to loosen the hold. Not that he minded.
He finished not soon after with a shout, still half-drunk and too turned on by her to try and last longer. Andy half-collapsed on top of her, head spinning and still foggy as he tried to catch his breath. "We should get married more often," he said against her skin.
Nicoletta snorted, shoving at him. "You weigh, like, three hundred pounds. Get off me."
"I got you off—hey! I do not—"
She barreled over him, unsurprisingly. "And we can't keep getting married unless we keep getting divorced."
"Well, you did just say I weigh three hundred pounds," Andy dryly retorted, kissing her once he rolled off of her and was settled beside her on the bed. He stripped himself of the condom and tied it off to toss it aside when he pulled back before kissing her again for good measure. "Love you," he couldn't help but repeat.
"I do like you an awful lot." That seemed to be her standard answer now, and he couldn’t help but be happy with it. She kissed him again and grabbed a pillow to put under her head. Andy figured she was too drunk to get more situated on the bed, but then, so was he, so he did the same, slightly surprised when she tangled her legs with his.
"You must be drunk," he remarked. "Your feet aren't even cold."
"Shut up, we just got married."
He smiled widely at that, and risked settling an arm over her waist, folding the other one under his pillow. "Yeah. Guess I owe Sarah a bonus." Christ, the midget was going to gloat over this. "…Unless you had planned this too."
"Oh god, getting drunk and buying a premade ring? I did not plan this," she said drowsily. "I would've known what that drink was and brought my own fucking ring. And you can afford her damn bonus now." She turned on her side without pushing off his arm or pulling her legs away. "Go to sleep. We'll have more sex tomorrow."
He laughed softly, appreciating the goodnight. It didn't take him long to drift off.
The next morning wasn't quite so pleasant. Andy didn't know what time it was, but daylight filtered through the windows; the floor-to-ceiling windows that he would have appreciated if he didn't have acid slowly dissolving the inside of his head. God. They were never playing ‘I Never again’. It was an Official Rule.
Andy barely opened his eyes, wincing until he got used to the light. He rubbed at his eyes and temples with one hand until he could keep his eyes open, and leaned forward to kiss Nic's shoulder. "Babe? You awake?"
"No," she muttered. "I am not awake until the jackhammer leaves my temple." She raised her left hand to poke it gingerly, which might be amusing were Andy not (a) also hungover and (b) distracted by something very, very shiny on her ring finger.
Oh god.
Things were…starting to come back.
"What do you remember?" he asked tentatively.
"Plotting to kill my boyfriend for waking me and not having water and aspirin nearby. Pretty soon, you'll remember death."
That sounded fairly fitting, at the moment, and he'd probably prefer she do it. Given the alternatives.
"I think you're wearing an engagement ring," he said finally, for lack of any better way to put it. "Pretty sure that means I'm going to die no matter what I do."
That made her sit up like a shot and jerk her hand in front of her face in movements so fast that Andy felt like whatever was in his stomach might come up. He closed them for a moment and listened to his apparent fiancée mutter in very fast, very panicked-sounding Italian.
"English?" he suggested when he dared open his eyes. She wasn't staring at the ring anymore; instead, it was out the windows. Maybe she was trying to blind herself.
"I remember," she muttered, in calmer—and scarier—English, still staring out the windows, "a little more than you apparently do."
"Please don't tell me."
"Oh no, Andy, if I remember a goddamn fucking chapel, you are going to damn well better remember it too." Her tone brooked absolutely no argument, so he kept his mouth shut and attempted to think. Nic's jackhammering fiend had apparently decided his skull was a better target, and on top of acid-brain, thinking was not terribly easy.
He sat up after a moment, and the world was spinning just a bit when he reached out to pull her hand closer. Andy stared at the ring, starting to remember some things… And Jesus, that was a lot of diamonds.
"Nic, how much do you think this ring costs?" he asked reluctantly. "I think I paid for it."
She shook her head and turned her attention back to the ring, this time examining it. She turned her hand a couple of times as she absently said, "It's platinum," which felt basically like an entire day's income gone alone, "and that diamond…" She looked over at him, and he thought that, just maybe, he saw a hint of guilt in her eyes. "At least you can definitely afford it now."
"…how much?" he asked, vaguely afraid of her answer.
"Not as bad as if I had it custom made," which was not comforting. "I think probably about a carat," and that really did not sound good. "So…depending on where, about nine."
Well. She was right, at least. He technically could afford it now that they were… He married New York's Mafia princess in Vegas while drunk. Andy was very positive he was going to die soon. Considering that, he was glad to focus on the fact that he had apparently lost around nine thousand dollars the night before.
"Do you like it?" he asked, since there wasn't much he could do about it at this point.
"It is pretty." She shook her head. "God, Is is going to mock me so hard…"
Oh. Right. Not only had he married a Mafia princess, he'd married into a family of snobs. Well, at least he wasn't going to be alive to hear it for long.
"What," he said carefully, "is your father going to say?"
She actually went pale. It was an incredibly weird sight. Then she stood, a little shakily, and went into the bathroom. He was glad to hear the sink running rather than her throwing up. When she reappeared, her face damp-looking, she said, "I'm going shopping. I'm spending a lot of money. Do you want to come?
"Might as well." Right now, going along with whatever she wanted seemed like the easiest thing to do. This was too big of a shock and he was too hungover to think about it now. He could write a Last Will and Testament and figure out who to give the parlor to later.
For now, he just let himself enjoy the fact that his wife—and there was a bit of at thrill along with the dread of that thought—was still naked. There were bruises on her breasts, hips, her right leg, and if his head weren't still trying to compete with Nicoletta's father for what was going to kill him, he might have tried to get her back into bed. "At least we apparently had a good wedding night," he said, noticing a few stinging marks of his own.
She glanced down at herself and smirked, running her hands down the bruises he'd left on her. "Ooh, a bite," she remarked, pressing her fingers to a spot and hissing—in pleasure, he knew, and the idea of getting her back in bed tempted him more.
Or it did until he remembered that he was going to die when they got back to New York. He really needed to call Adrianna when he felt up to it.
"It was a very good night," she agreed, once she'd finished what looked like her own hands-on inspection. She shook her head and walked over to the closet, and he could not be faulted for watching the way his wife's hips swayed or how her ass moved as she walked. She had an amazing ass. A shirt came flying over her shoulder, and he tried to catch it, but the severe case of death going on in his head interfered with that, and it landed on the bed behind him. Then she turned, a dress in her hands, and frowned. "Do you see my bra?"
He wordlessly looked on the floor around the bed and found it a moment later. "Here," he said, tossing it toward her before finding his jeans from the night before. "Am I allowed to ask serious questions, or are we not talking about it yet?" he asked, once he started getting dressed.
"We're going home tomorrow," she said, oddly subdued, "so we should talk about it." She laughed, a little. "Talia's going to be happy."
Andy smiled. "Yeah, she will."
"So, serious questions?" She fastened her bra and slipped on the dress, one she'd once informed him was tangerine. Either she hadn't gotten to it yet, or she was shopping without wearing underwear. Neither would surprise him.
"Do you want to stay married?" he asked, pulling his shirt over his head as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Now that the general shock was over, he couldn't say he hated the idea.
It took her a minute to answer, longer than he'd like, before she called, "Well, yeah. I brought you to fucking Vegas and we've been together a year. It wasn't supposed to fucking happen while we were fucking wasted, though. Do you?"
"Yeah, I do," he told her, wiping his mouth dry once he was finished. He brought up his next point after he finished in the bathroom and walked back into the bedroom to finish getting dressed. "And I'm not opposed to adopting Talia, assuming I survive long enough to do so. I already think of her as my daughter."
"She does call you her daddy, so as long as my daddy doesn't kill you, okay." She was brushing her hair, or trying to, and muttered something about cutting it. He knew she wouldn't. "The hell did you do to my hair?"
"I don't remember," he said honestly.
"Oh. You also have to survive my brothers, by the way. Maybe a couple of my sisters."
"Sounds easy enough," he dryly answered. One of the last things he ever wanted was the Corlioni family after his blood, something he apparently didn't care about so much when he was drunk. He looked at Nicoletta when he sat down to pull on a pair of socks, and thought that maybe he didn't care about it now as much as he should, either.
Maybe once they got back to New York.
"Who are we telling first? I'd love to start with Talia and at least get one happy reaction, but something tells me that's not the best idea." Because of course now that part of his brain was working.
She considered that while apparently wrestling through the knots. Once she could brush it down over her shoulders, she said, "Stacey would be happy. Besides the skeptical part about my family's reaction." She groaned. "It wasn't even Catholic, Andy!"
"I'm going to believe that, since it was a Vegas chapel quickie," he muttered.
"Talia can hear it after Stacey. As long as we tell her a lot not to tell anyone else, anyway. I'm just hoping her happy shriek doesn't carry through all of Brooklyn."
Having heard a version of that happy shriek, Andy wouldn't be surprised if it did. He smiled briefly at the thought. "I might wait to tell my family after we tell yours. I don't know. Mostly, I'm trying to not think about most of it until I absolutely have to. Like when we're back in New York." He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "We shouldn't play drinking games," he muttered.
Nicoletta snorted. "No, probably not. Who the hell knows what would happen next time." She paused and then said, "Wait, we should, but only with Sarah and see how wasted we can get her."
The thought made him laugh. "That's almost unfair. I'm not even sure she weighs a hundred pounds."
Nic only took a moment longer to finish getting ready, slipping on sandals and finding her purse. He dutifully followed her out of the hotel, half expecting to find somebody pointing a gun in his face as soon as they got to the hallway. "Still going to spend a bunch of money?" he asked, once they were on the elevator.
"Oh fuck yes," she said fervently. "Coping mechanism." She dug in her purse for a moment and frowned suddenly. "…Andy?"
"Yeah?" he said warily. Maybe they'd done something else the night before, like a pregnancy test.
"Why do I have a solid gold straw?"
Colors: Tyrian Purple 16 (dawn's rosy fingers), Olive Green 9 (Cupid's Corner), and Alice Blue 25 (at the time it all seemed quite natural) for Nikki; French Grey 13 (It is a question of cubic capacity. A man with so large a brain must have something in it.), Royal Purple 8 (In my defense God me defend.), and Eisenhower Green 14 (every kung fu movie ever made can't be wrong) for Kelly
Supplies and Materials: Eraser; Pastels (my current gen+romance card for
origfic_bingo, G3. toys and games) for Kelly and (my current gen card for origfic_bingo, I3. fast and loose) for Nikki; Interactive Art; PortraitStory: Phase and Polyfaceted; this (FINALLY) takes place in the TOWNOID (The One Where Nobody Important Dies) AU. The title of this is 'What Happens in Vegas.'
Summary: Nic and Andy do something that most typical drunk couples do while in Vegas.
origfic_bingoorigfic_bingoWord Count: 7,659Rating: NC-17
Warnings and Notes: Rough consensual sex. Takes places in March 2006.
To be quite honest, Andy was very, very drunk. It was the second night of his and Nicoletta’s three day trip to Vegas (her idea for their one year anniversary—dating, not marriage) so that was probably to be expected. Considering that he’d drunk about as much as Nic had, he’d say that they were about the same level of intoxicated and the night was going pretty good so far. Still, he was surprised when he was able to hear his phone ring over the sounds of the bar, much less pull it out of his pocket and answer it with minimum difficulty.
“Hello?”
“You have no idea how annoying it is that you can talk just fine no matter how drunk you are, because then I have no idea what I can convince you to do. Are you Vegas drunk yet?” Sarah asked.
“No,” Andy lied before turning to Nicoletta. “It’s Sarah.”
“What does she want?” she asked, signaling the bartender.
“Don’t know. What do you want, Sarah?”
“Have you had a Ménage a Trois yet?”
“What? No. What?”
“You sound guilty, tree man. What’s up with that?”
“I’m not guilty, Sarah. I’m drunk,” he dryly told her. “What do you want?”
Sarah laughed, the brat, before she answered him. “It’s a drink the bar at your hotel has. It’s, like—the best of the best of Las Vegas drinks.”
Rolling his eyes, Andy turned to Nicoletta again as the bartender made his way over. “She wants to know if we’ve had some famous Las Vegas drink called a Ménage a Trois yet.”
Nicoletta looked at the bartender. “Ménage a Trois. What’s in it?”
He dutifully answered, “It’s the bar’s signature drink. A cocktail made with Cristal Rosé, Hennessy Ellipse, and Grand Marnier Cuvée Speciale Cent Cinquantenaire, with liquid gold syrup and twenty-three-karat gold flakes on top. It costs three thousand dollars a glass.”
“It’s a really cool drink, Andy,” Sarah spoke, unable to hear the other conversation. “It comes with this solid gold straw and—”
“It has a solid gold straw?” Andy interrupted her, not quite sure if he had heard right.
Nicoletta's eyes lit up in a way that Andy knew meant she was going to spend serious money. "I'll have one," she told the bartender.
"The gold straw has a diamond, Andy," Sarah said, very seriously. "You have to get it."
"Stop, midget, Nic's ordering one now."
"God, I am jealous. You realize you have a sugar mama, don't you?"
Andy blinked. "Your point?"
"What?" Nicoletta asked him.
"She just told me I have a sugar mama." While Nicoletta laughed at that, Andy shook his head and said to Sarah, "Please don't ever say that again."
"Oh, you so do and you know it. So! Married yet?"
"I—married?"
"Who got married?" Nicoletta asked.
"That's the whole point of going to Vegas with your girlfriend," Sarah informed him.
"Apparently, we're supposed to," Andy told Nicoletta before returning his attention to Sarah. "No, the point of coming to Vegas is an awesome hotel room, awesome booze, gambling, and strippers."
"And sex," Nicoletta said, apparently loudly enough for Sarah to hear, because she cracked up.
"Perfect recipe for getting married!" she exclaimed. "You've already got the hotel, you're drunk, you kind of had a bachelor party, even if it was with the future Mrs. Grant, you're fucking all the time, so find one of those twenty-four hour chapels and do it!"
“If all you need from a couple is intoxication, fornication, and a hotel room before you let them get married, I’m honestly going to start worrying about you,” Andy blandly replied, causing Nicoletta to laugh.
“Whatever. Can I have the straw?”
“Bye Sarah.”
“Ask her if I can have the straw!”
Hanging up, Andy turned the phone on silent before shoving it in his pocket. “Do you remember when I didn’t have a midget-sized crazy thing calling me for no reason at all hours of the night? Why should we get married just because we’re in Vegas?”
Nicoletta shrugged, clearly focused on the drink the bartender was making her. "Why the hell not?" she said, much to his surprise. "We've been together for a year." She accepted the drink from the bartender before continuing. "Fuck, I've been monogamous for a year, which is a bigger fucking deal than it sounds like. And my kid thinks you're her dad." She sipped—yeah, that straw looked gold, and it had a diamond, all right—and let out a soft moan.
"Um," Andy said after a moment. "That maybe makes a little too much sense."
"So why don't we?"
“You’re serious?”
“You know me well enough to know that I’m not joking,” Nicoletta shot back, which was very true.
“You’re serious,” he murmured, thinking for a moment—as much as he could with the amount of blood in his alcohol system. “We’ll have to buy to you a ring first, you know. Something nice.”
Nicoletta smiled. “I am perfectly okay with that.”
"Okay," Andy said after a minute, starting to grin like a complete idiot. "Finish your overpriced drink and…I guess we'll go buy a ring."
"Awesome. And it's so not overpriced—try this." Nicoletta passed the drink over to him.
"Okay," he said after a sip. "Maybe it’s not so overpriced. Though I still think a solid gold straw with a diamond is over the top.”
“Of course you do, Andypanda,” Nic teased him, taking her drink back. “You’re stingy.”
He laughed, despite himself. “Oh, you’re going to be a horrible, cruel wife, aren’t you?”
“The sex will make up for it.”
“I already know that.” He grinned before leaning over to kiss her.
She promptly looped her arms around his neck and kissed him back deeply. When they broke apart, she said, "Drink, ring, chapel, bed."
"Excellent order," he agreed. "There are twenty-four hour jewelry stores, right?"
"In Vegas?" She arched an eyebrow. "I pretty much guarantee it."
"We could ask someone?" Andy suggested.
She shrugged and promptly flagged down the bartender. At this point, that kind of thing didn't remotely surprise him. "Where's the closest jewelry store that would still be open?"
"What kind of jewelry store?" the bartender asked.
She gestured to Andy. "I convinced him to marry me."
The bartender glanced between them, then shrugged. "There are a few. Las Vegas Boulevard has a couple."
"Excellent. We're going to need a car," she added to Andy, who shrugged.
"Yeah, I don't think we should drive."
“Of course not,” Nicoletta scoffed, teasing him. “Call for a car. So stingy, just like I said earlier.”
“I’m not stingy!”
“Prove it,” she challenged him.
“Fine. I’ll buy you whatever ring you want, no matter how much it costs,” Andy told her, completely serious. (As serious as a drunken, recently engaged giant could be, anyway.)
“Wow, it’s that easy to get you to do things? You’d get me a ring you couldn’t afford because I dared you?”
“No. I’d get you a ring I couldn’t afford because I love you.”
She smiled, leaning over to kiss him. "You are sweet."
And he potentially had a death wish, if he could summon the ability to actually think about what they were doing for more than about half a second. "Almost done?" he asked, gesturing to her drink.
Nicoletta finished it off and reached for her purse, fumbling a moment before pulling out a credit card that she held out toward the bartender. "I should take off his tip because he carded me," she muttered, and Andy laughed.
"You look younger than you are," he pointed out, but did remember to not actually say she was, well, underage. "Sarah wants to know if she can have the straw, by the way."
"Umm." Nicoletta picked up the straw, studying it. "I don't know. It's pretty. And I like the diamond."
“She’ll probably do something Sarah with it.”
That seemed to make up Nicoletta’s mind for her as the bartender returned with her card and receipt. “She can get one of her own, then.”
“I’ll tell her that. I hope I remember to tell her that.” Andy paused, before laughing. “Actually, I hope at least one of us remembers all of this.”
"Eh, I'll have a ring to clue us in," Nicoletta said dismissively. She signed the receipt and added something on the tip line before passing the receipt and pen back. Then she dropped the straw in her purse and stood, obviously wobbly on her heels.
If she was this drunk, maybe they should rethink things. But that would require more brainpower and less alcohol.
Andy got up from his own stool, a little off-balance himself. "Are we calling a car?" he asked.
"Oh yeah." She found her phone and scrolled through her history, then held the phone to her ear as they cautiously left the bar. "Yeah, I need a car," she said after a moment. "Wynn Hotel. Nicoletta Corlioni." When she ended the call, she looked put out. "It would be nice if people here knew my name," she told Andy, who grinned.
"Finding out what it's like to be a normal person?" he teased her.
"I have never been normal," she said archly.
“No, of course not,” he answered, too solemn to be truly serious. “You’ve always been a princess.”
Nicoletta rolled her eyes, shooting him a look that very much said, ‘Duh.’ “Of course I have. How lucky for you, marrying into money.”
“Especially considering that I meant what I said about the ring.”
Nicoletta smirked. "Don't worry too much. It's not like I can get a custom ring made tonight. Even home, it takes too long."
"You would know that," Andy said, amused.
"Come on, car should be here soon." She headed for the front of the hotel. "And it's not like Daddy would buy us preset when he gets us jewelry. There's more thought in at least picking out the gems."
He shook his head. "Your family, Nic."
“The family you’re marrying into,” she shot back, and that made Andy think that there was something important he should be remembering, before drunkenly deciding he didn’t care. He was getting married! What did he have to care about?
“Should I start figuring out what you like in custom rings, then?” he asked, maybe a little bit serious.
“It’d be a good idea.”
The way she answered told him that she was completely serious, and he grinned. “I’ll start paying attention.”
"Smart man." She slid her hand up along his arm. "I think that's our car." She gestured, and he shrugged, following her. "Here for Nicoletta Corlioni?" she asked the driver, who nodded.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked.
"Two places. Jewelry store that's still open and a chapel."
The driver glanced between them in the same way the bartender had, which Andy suspected meant something, before opening the back door of the car. Nicoletta slid in, no problem, but Andy (unsurprisingly) had to bend nearly double to fit.
“You don’t think I’m too tall, do you?” he asked once they were on their way.
Nicoletta grinned, swinging her legs across his lap. Andy almost automatically placed a hand high on her leg, near her brand, and her grin widened. “No,” she answered, “if you were shorter, your cock probably wouldn’t be as awesome.”
Andy laughed (he thought he heard the driver mutter something, but didn’t catch what it was) and shook his head. “That’s not entirely true. For all we know, my height has nothing to do with that.”
"Entirely possible," she agreed. Then she leaned forward, toward the driver, and said conversationally, "If I was an escort, what makes you think I'd be in fucking Vegas to work? I'd make way more in New York or L.A. or something. Besides," and here she glanced back at Andy and grinned, "he couldn't afford me yet if I was."
Andy blinked. "He thought you're an escort?" Then it caught up to him. "He thought I couldn't be with you if you weren't an escort?"
"What can I say?" She laughed. "I bet he thinks these are fake, too." She grabbed her own breasts. "Which," she added to the driver, "they are so not."
Quirking an eyebrow, Andy smirked. “Do that again,” he said, before glancing at the driver. “And she’s not lying. And I’m with her without paying for her.”
“You aren’t going to say anything about how he thought I was an escort?” Nicoletta asked.
“You can defend your own honor better than I ever could. Why would I say anything?”
"You are so right about that, Andypanda." She leaned toward the driver again, and completely missed the long-suffering look that Andy gave her. "I get that you're just a driver in Vegas and all, but have you seriously never heard the name Corlioni? I've got an uncle in L.A. I mean, Christ." She shook her head before sitting back and turning to Andy to push her breasts together. "You want to fuck my tits after we get married?"
And god, if that didn’t make him instantly hard. Andy was a bit rough when he kissed her in response and pressed her back against the seat. “That is mean,” he almost groaned. “Considering that we still have to get your ring.”
She grinned and leaned in to nip his lower lip, then pulled at one of his lip rings with her teeth. "Oh baby," she teased, "you won't let me physically hurt you, so I have to get off some other way. If that means being a cocktease, I can be a cocktease easily." She slid her hand up along the inside of his thigh as she spoke and stopped devilishly short of said body part.
“Sadist,” Andy accused with a murmur, his hips pressing towards her touch. “You’re going to have a very short wedding if you keep this up,” he warned her, tangling a hand in her hair as he kissed her again. He held Nicoletta close when he sat back in his seat, pulling her into his lap.
"Sadomasochist," she retorted, as close to primly as she could get when she wasn't playing a part for her job. (He'd seen that before, once. The level of "not Nicoletta" she became was just…creepy.) "I don't know if I should marry you if you can't get that right." Apparently to counter having said that, she wriggled in his lap, moving her ass along his cock.
Andy grabbed tight at the swell of her hip, wrapping his other arm around her waist. “I can think of a few other reasons you should,” he told her, sliding his hand up to roughly cup and massage one of her breasts, thrusting his hips against her ass.
"Oh really, Mr. Grant." Nicoletta leaned in to kiss him hard. "What would those reasons be?"
He couldn't help but notice that she hadn't stopped moving her own hips. “All of those reasons you said earlier, for one.” Andy bit at her neck before he spoke again, voice husky. “The sex, for two. And I have easy access to painful body modification methods, so I know you consider that a perk.”
"Oh, right, my kid likes you," she murmured. "And monogamy and sex and excellent use of pain. All right, I'll marry you." She grinned at him and trailed a nail from one of his lip rings to the other. "As long as you promise to remember it's sadomasochist, not just sadist."
“Sadomasochist,” he belatedly corrected himself, kissing her again as the car came to a less than smooth stop. Andy waited until the driver got out of the car to grin at Nicoletta. “Think we’ve made him uncomfortable enough yet? Not that I’m not extremely enjoying this.”
“Of course you’re enjoying it. It’s me.” Sliding out of Andy’s lap and stepping out onto the curb, Nicoletta turned and leaned over. She completely disregarded the fact that the driver was holding the car door open as she continued. “And no. I don’t think he’s uncomfortable enough yet, but he will be.”
Andy grinned. “Fair enough.” He had to adjust himself before he could get out of the car, and he rested a hand low on Nicoletta’s back as they made their way inside.
From nowhere (or, more likely, her purse), Nicoletta whipped out a credit card that Andy recognized from its power to pretty much make his employees pass out: a black AmEx, Centurion. "I need an engagement ring," she announced, and glanced at Andy. "Want wedding rings, too?"
"I thought I'm paying for this."
"You are. This is just getting their attention."
Andy shrugged. "Do you want wedding rings?"
Nicoletta twisted her mouth, then shrugged. "We'll get them custom."
A saleswoman approached them then, all too-white smile and bright eyes. "You need an engagement ring?"
"I do," Nicoletta agreed, and put her card back. "What do you have in platinum, half-carat or more diamond?"
Even though Andy looked at Nicoletta out of the corner of his eye and smirked (he knew she’d go for the best in the store), he still saw the idea of a sale like that make greed light up the saleswoman’s eyes. It was only a few moments later that Nicoletta was looking over a selection, and Andy was avoiding looking at any price tags. He loved her, and he had meant what he said about buying what he could afford, but he still didn’t want to see the prices just yet.
“See anything you like?” he asked, when Nicoletta was examining how one ring glittered in the light.
“I think I just found one.” Scrutinizing the ring on her finger one more time, Nicoletta grinned and the saleswoman was quick to finish their purchase.
Andy very much ignored that he had to hand over the credit card that he usually only kept for business purposes, and he kissed her hard on their way out of the store. “To the chapel?”
"The chapel," Nicoletta agreed, grinning. She slipped her hand into his front pocket as they headed for the car; Andy assumed it was designed purely to make their driver uncomfortable again. Not that he was complaining, considering just where her hand was.
"Chapel," he said to the driver, who was holding the back door open, and when Nicoletta squeezed, he let out a choked breath. "Fast."
"Very fast," Nicoletta agreed. "Longer it takes, the lower your tip." She took her hand from Andy's pocket to get into the car, and he wasn't sure if he was glad for it or not.
Andy climbed in after her, not even waiting for the door to close before he kissed her again. “Very short wedding,” he murmured against her lips, and roughly ran his hand over the brand on her thigh. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’m intrigued. And I’ll hold you to that.” Nicoletta arched up against him, leading Andy to kiss her again, harder this time.
Because they were in Vegas, it only took them a few minutes to find a chapel. Andy didn’t even wait for the car to be fully parked before he opened the back door and hurriedly stepped out. When Nicoletta followed after him, he pressed her against the side of the car for a moment and kissed her deeply.
She was plainly as eager as he was, since he felt her knee sliding up the outside of his thigh, the smooth back of her heel against his calf. She hooked one arm behind his neck, keeping him down to kiss her longer than he'd intended, before they broke apart and she grinned. "You know I'm not changing my name, right?"
"Not even Marcella?" Andy teased as they headed for the chapel.
"Only if you become Andrew Corlioni," she returned, but with the way her hand was on his arm, he figured she didn't mean it.
"Are you here to witness a wedding?" a woman asked, and Andy shook his head.
"Nope. Here to get married."
"All right." She set a pen and sheet of paper on the table in front of her. "Just fill this out, and we'll get you right in."
"God, it's easy to get married here," Nicoletta muttered as they walked over.
“Well, isn’t that a good thing in this situation?” he asked her, looking over the paperwork and quickly filling out his portion before passing it over to Nicoletta. “We wanted this easy and quick, right?”
“If you give me easy and quick, you’re going to regret it,” she retorted.
Andy laughed and slipped a hand under her shirt, tracing random designs on her stomach. “No. Never.”
"You," Nicoletta said, "are a very smart man." She bent to finish the paperwork. "Fast for the paperwork is good. Fast for other things, not so much."
Well, they were technically in a chapel. Andy wouldn't put money on anything more religious than fast weddings happening here, but Nicoletta was still Catholic, so not actually, overtly dirty-talking right now made a kind of sense. And she’d probably hurt him if he dirty-talked here for the same reason.
Was that sobriety he was beginning to feel?
Couldn't be. It had to just be some kind of clarity because he was getting married.
Nicoletta finished and handed the form back to the woman. "How much?"
"Sixty dollars for the license and seventy-five for the service."
Before Andy could get his wallet, Nicoletta handed over cash. "But for God's sake, no organ music," she warned. "I hate that."
“Actually, are we sure we even want a service?” Andy asked Nicoletta. “We could just say our I do’s, sign the paper, and then be on our way back to the hotel…”
He watched her eyes darken with the idea of that, before she grinned and reached out to take back her money from the woman behind the table. “Sex faster, and we’re still married. I like that.” She counted out enough for the license and passed it back over. “Where do we sign?”
"Right at the bottom," the woman said, sounding amused.
Nicoletta grabbed the pen and signed before passing it to Andy. "I do," she said dryly, and he grinned at her.
"I do too." He signed the form, shoved it toward the woman, and they left. Shortest wedding ever.
"We're newlyweds," Nicoletta informed the driver as they got into the car. "You can bitch even less about whatever we do back here."
Andy had to laugh at that, before he pulled Nicoletta onto his lap again to kiss her firmly, biting her lower lip almost enough to bruise. As he'd known it would, that made her moan, and she swung one leg so she was straddling his lap and grinding against him. He grinned against her mouth, before thrusting his hips against hers, a groan in the back of his throat. Andy managed to tear away from her momentarily when the driver got in the car, though she still ground against him and bit at his ear and it took him a moment to talk. “If you get us back to the Wynn as fast as you can, you might still get a tip,” he told the driver, who had already pulled away from the curb, “but if you don’t get there fast enough, we might just fuck in your back seat instead.”
Nicoletta laughed and drew him into another kiss, and Andy slid his hands up her thighs as he responded completely. If he had cared to notice, he would have noticed how the car suddenly sped up. His hand skimmed over the brand on her thigh, which was something she always seemed to like even if it didn't hurt. She tugged on one lip ring with her teeth, and Andy slid his hands under her skirt, half-expecting her to stop him, though he didn't know why. It wasn't as though Nicoletta would care that there was a driver in the car.
"You better leave bruises," she told him. "On my hips, at least."
He grinned, moving one hand back to her brand and the other high inside her thigh, tightening his grip until it was just this side of bruising. “At least,” he agreed, and his grin widened when she moaned again and kissed him harder, dragging her nails down his chest.
“You get off on hurting me, don't you?" she asked, smiling when she pulled back.
He couldn't entirely deny it. "On how much it turns you on."
"Well, obviously. We started fucking because you branded me."
"You're leaving out part of the story," Andy said dryly.
"I don't think the driver deserves the mental picture." Then she leaned back in to kiss him again.
They were back at the hotel before they knew it, and Andy didn’t remember much of the trip up to their room except for kissing and touching Nicoletta any chance he got. Eventually, they managed to get the door to their suite open, and kissing deeply, they stumbled inside. Andy pressed her against the wall before the door had fully closed, kissing her hard and biting her lip. “God, I fucking want you.”
"Oh? I hadn't noticed." Considering her hand was on his cock when she said that, he didn't buy it for a second. "We could fuck right here…"
He grinned as he leaned in to kiss her again. "Against the wall? You won't get as hurt as you want," he pointed out.
"That is a problem," she agreed. "But there's also a floor."
"There is," Andy said, "and I'd pretty much fuck you where ever you wanted right now, however you wanted, but do you at least want to try and make it to the bed?"
"You can carry me there, if you want." Nicoletta grinned before she grabbed his cock again, and squeezed. "But I won't make it easy for you."
"I'm fine with that," he groaned. He kissed her again, biting her lip nearly hard enough to bleed, and she moaned. She squeezed him again, tighter. He thrust against her hand, before he grabbed her by the waist and picked her up, stumbling towards the bedroom. As she wrapped her legs around his waist, Andy shoved a hand up the front of her shirt, roughly squeezing one of her breasts and pinching her nipple.
She pushed her hips against his and bent her head to bite his neck, but not too hard; even drunk, she usually remembered not to go too far, which Andy appreciated. "You still want to fuck my tits?" she asked, and it was his turn to moan.
"God yes, Nicoletta." He managed to reach the bed and dropped her on it unceremoniously. "I just want to fuck you."
"Well then, hurry up." She pulled her shirt over her head and reached for him, and he only resisted long enough to undo his jeans before they could do damage to his cock.
He kissed Nic hard when she pulled him down onto the bed and pulled down the straps of her bra until her breasts were exposed. He roughly groped her, squeezing one in each hand, before he ducked his head to twist his tongue over one of her nipples. Andy only teased her for a few seconds before biting down on her breast nearly hard enough to break the skin. "How do you want me to do this?" he asked, voice rough.
It took her a second to answer, since she gasped hard and arched up into his bite and tossed her head back. "Umm." She caught her breath and grinned at him, undoing the front clasp on her bra to let it fall open, straps still caught on her arms. "Just like this."
Jesus, she was going to kill him with her breasts and the sex and how much he loved her and… everything. He switched his attention to her other breast, biting her just as hard again before he pulled away to strip and then he was over her again. Andy tangled a hand in her hair and pulled sharply when he kissed her. "Have I mentioned that I love you?" he asked, grinning as he sat up to straddle her stomach.
She grinned up at him, gorgeous with her hair spread out under her and his hand in it, her arching into the pain of his tugging on her hair. "Mm, several times tonight. I do like you." Then, oh God, she pushed her breasts together and let her grin turn to an incredibly sexy smirk. "You want?"
"Fuck yes, I want." He pinched one of her nipples hard, almost regretting it when she moaned. The sound made his cock twitch and he decided that he needed to hurry up already. "Where's some lotion?" he asked, surprised he was able to talk.
She lifted up on her elbows and kissed him hard. "Bathroom counter, I left some." She grinned wickedly. "Moisturizing. I bet it's going to feel amazing on your cock…and you get to rub it into my tits…"
He moaned and kissed her, biting her lip hard before getting off her and hurrying to the bathroom. Sure enough, a bottle with a twist cap—a ridiculously expensive one, judging by the frosted glass and the glossy label—sat on the counter, and as he returned to the bed, he shook the bottle upside-down so he'd be able to get it out easily.
"Was this something you had planned before we decided to get married?" he couldn't help but ask with a smirk, pouring some lotion into one hand and setting the bottle on the floor.
"Possibly," she answered, still grinning in that way that turned him on an almost stupid amount.
Yeah, Andy definitely loved her. He rubbed his hands together just enough to warm the lotion up before he started massaging her breasts, firmly kneading her skin and running his thumbs over and around her nipples.
"Ohh," she sighed, lifting up toward his hands. "God, you are good at this, babe. Fantastic with your hands."
She might be into pain, but he also loved it when more vanilla things, like this, turned her on. "You're so hot, Nic."
"C'mon," she urged. "That's enough, go ahead and fuck them."
Andy did not have to be told twice. He swung his leg over her and made sure he didn't actually have his weight on her; she pressed her breasts together, and he thrust between them slowly. God, amazing. He started stroking and caressing her breasts again, moaning as lotion coated his cock. He slowly sped his thrusts, groping her more roughly the faster he moved.
"Fucking love that you let me do stuff like this," he muttered, pinching and pulling at her nipples because he couldn't pull her hair. "So fucking hot."
When she gripped at his ass instead of his hips, just digging her nails in, as she arched into his hands—and also cock—and moaned. The mild shock of pain made him move all the faster, and she grinned at him breathlessly.
"God, so fucking hot," she groaned. "Hot for you, Andy. Want you."
Christ, he would never get tired of hearing her say things like that; he adjusted his hold on her breasts, pressing them tighter around his dick and digging his fingertips in enough to bruise. "Want me to fuck you now?" he asked, voice rough.
She moaned and bit her own lower lip hard before answering. "Keep leaving marks like that. Fuck yes." Her own hands lifted from his ass onto his hips, where she could dig in the pads of her fingers and not her nails.
He groaned, thrusting in between her breasts a few more times before moving from over her. He only stopped long enough to kiss her and to fish the condom out of his wallet, rolling it on almost desperately before he was over her and kissing her again. Andy grabbed her hips hard enough to bruise and slammed into her, and fuck she felt fucking amazing. He cursed breathlessly as he kept his pace, thrusting into her as hard as he could.
"Oh fuck," she gasped, shoving herself up on her elbows to bite him bruisingly. "If you stop…"
He laughed, breathlessly. "Not planning to, babe."
"Good." She moaned, loud, and rolled her hips down to grind toward his cock.
"God," he choked out, grabbing her hip harder with his right hand while his other moved down to clamp over her brand. He pulled her leg up higher, moaning when he thrust into her deeper. "Fuck, Nic. You… so fucking amazing."
"Oh, fucking—Andy, tighter," she ordered, and he tightened his hand on her right leg, right over her brand, and she cried out, loud, as she spasmed around him, throwing her head back as she cried out. Her own hands tightened on his hips, and it took her a damn long time to loosen the hold. Not that he minded.
He finished not soon after with a shout, still half-drunk and too turned on by her to try and last longer. Andy half-collapsed on top of her, head spinning and still foggy as he tried to catch his breath. "We should get married more often," he said against her skin.
Nicoletta snorted, shoving at him. "You weigh, like, three hundred pounds. Get off me."
"I got you off—hey! I do not—"
She barreled over him, unsurprisingly. "And we can't keep getting married unless we keep getting divorced."
"Well, you did just say I weigh three hundred pounds," Andy dryly retorted, kissing her once he rolled off of her and was settled beside her on the bed. He stripped himself of the condom and tied it off to toss it aside when he pulled back before kissing her again for good measure. "Love you," he couldn't help but repeat.
"I do like you an awful lot." That seemed to be her standard answer now, and he couldn’t help but be happy with it. She kissed him again and grabbed a pillow to put under her head. Andy figured she was too drunk to get more situated on the bed, but then, so was he, so he did the same, slightly surprised when she tangled her legs with his.
"You must be drunk," he remarked. "Your feet aren't even cold."
"Shut up, we just got married."
He smiled widely at that, and risked settling an arm over her waist, folding the other one under his pillow. "Yeah. Guess I owe Sarah a bonus." Christ, the midget was going to gloat over this. "…Unless you had planned this too."
"Oh god, getting drunk and buying a premade ring? I did not plan this," she said drowsily. "I would've known what that drink was and brought my own fucking ring. And you can afford her damn bonus now." She turned on her side without pushing off his arm or pulling her legs away. "Go to sleep. We'll have more sex tomorrow."
He laughed softly, appreciating the goodnight. It didn't take him long to drift off.
The next morning wasn't quite so pleasant. Andy didn't know what time it was, but daylight filtered through the windows; the floor-to-ceiling windows that he would have appreciated if he didn't have acid slowly dissolving the inside of his head. God. They were never playing ‘I Never again’. It was an Official Rule.
Andy barely opened his eyes, wincing until he got used to the light. He rubbed at his eyes and temples with one hand until he could keep his eyes open, and leaned forward to kiss Nic's shoulder. "Babe? You awake?"
"No," she muttered. "I am not awake until the jackhammer leaves my temple." She raised her left hand to poke it gingerly, which might be amusing were Andy not (a) also hungover and (b) distracted by something very, very shiny on her ring finger.
Oh god.
Things were…starting to come back.
"What do you remember?" he asked tentatively.
"Plotting to kill my boyfriend for waking me and not having water and aspirin nearby. Pretty soon, you'll remember death."
That sounded fairly fitting, at the moment, and he'd probably prefer she do it. Given the alternatives.
"I think you're wearing an engagement ring," he said finally, for lack of any better way to put it. "Pretty sure that means I'm going to die no matter what I do."
That made her sit up like a shot and jerk her hand in front of her face in movements so fast that Andy felt like whatever was in his stomach might come up. He closed them for a moment and listened to his apparent fiancée mutter in very fast, very panicked-sounding Italian.
"English?" he suggested when he dared open his eyes. She wasn't staring at the ring anymore; instead, it was out the windows. Maybe she was trying to blind herself.
"I remember," she muttered, in calmer—and scarier—English, still staring out the windows, "a little more than you apparently do."
"Please don't tell me."
"Oh no, Andy, if I remember a goddamn fucking chapel, you are going to damn well better remember it too." Her tone brooked absolutely no argument, so he kept his mouth shut and attempted to think. Nic's jackhammering fiend had apparently decided his skull was a better target, and on top of acid-brain, thinking was not terribly easy.
He sat up after a moment, and the world was spinning just a bit when he reached out to pull her hand closer. Andy stared at the ring, starting to remember some things… And Jesus, that was a lot of diamonds.
"Nic, how much do you think this ring costs?" he asked reluctantly. "I think I paid for it."
She shook her head and turned her attention back to the ring, this time examining it. She turned her hand a couple of times as she absently said, "It's platinum," which felt basically like an entire day's income gone alone, "and that diamond…" She looked over at him, and he thought that, just maybe, he saw a hint of guilt in her eyes. "At least you can definitely afford it now."
"…how much?" he asked, vaguely afraid of her answer.
"Not as bad as if I had it custom made," which was not comforting. "I think probably about a carat," and that really did not sound good. "So…depending on where, about nine."
Well. She was right, at least. He technically could afford it now that they were… He married New York's Mafia princess in Vegas while drunk. Andy was very positive he was going to die soon. Considering that, he was glad to focus on the fact that he had apparently lost around nine thousand dollars the night before.
"Do you like it?" he asked, since there wasn't much he could do about it at this point.
"It is pretty." She shook her head. "God, Is is going to mock me so hard…"
Oh. Right. Not only had he married a Mafia princess, he'd married into a family of snobs. Well, at least he wasn't going to be alive to hear it for long.
"What," he said carefully, "is your father going to say?"
She actually went pale. It was an incredibly weird sight. Then she stood, a little shakily, and went into the bathroom. He was glad to hear the sink running rather than her throwing up. When she reappeared, her face damp-looking, she said, "I'm going shopping. I'm spending a lot of money. Do you want to come?
"Might as well." Right now, going along with whatever she wanted seemed like the easiest thing to do. This was too big of a shock and he was too hungover to think about it now. He could write a Last Will and Testament and figure out who to give the parlor to later.
For now, he just let himself enjoy the fact that his wife—and there was a bit of at thrill along with the dread of that thought—was still naked. There were bruises on her breasts, hips, her right leg, and if his head weren't still trying to compete with Nicoletta's father for what was going to kill him, he might have tried to get her back into bed. "At least we apparently had a good wedding night," he said, noticing a few stinging marks of his own.
She glanced down at herself and smirked, running her hands down the bruises he'd left on her. "Ooh, a bite," she remarked, pressing her fingers to a spot and hissing—in pleasure, he knew, and the idea of getting her back in bed tempted him more.
Or it did until he remembered that he was going to die when they got back to New York. He really needed to call Adrianna when he felt up to it.
"It was a very good night," she agreed, once she'd finished what looked like her own hands-on inspection. She shook her head and walked over to the closet, and he could not be faulted for watching the way his wife's hips swayed or how her ass moved as she walked. She had an amazing ass. A shirt came flying over her shoulder, and he tried to catch it, but the severe case of death going on in his head interfered with that, and it landed on the bed behind him. Then she turned, a dress in her hands, and frowned. "Do you see my bra?"
He wordlessly looked on the floor around the bed and found it a moment later. "Here," he said, tossing it toward her before finding his jeans from the night before. "Am I allowed to ask serious questions, or are we not talking about it yet?" he asked, once he started getting dressed.
"We're going home tomorrow," she said, oddly subdued, "so we should talk about it." She laughed, a little. "Talia's going to be happy."
Andy smiled. "Yeah, she will."
"So, serious questions?" She fastened her bra and slipped on the dress, one she'd once informed him was tangerine. Either she hadn't gotten to it yet, or she was shopping without wearing underwear. Neither would surprise him.
"Do you want to stay married?" he asked, pulling his shirt over his head as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Now that the general shock was over, he couldn't say he hated the idea.
It took her a minute to answer, longer than he'd like, before she called, "Well, yeah. I brought you to fucking Vegas and we've been together a year. It wasn't supposed to fucking happen while we were fucking wasted, though. Do you?"
"Yeah, I do," he told her, wiping his mouth dry once he was finished. He brought up his next point after he finished in the bathroom and walked back into the bedroom to finish getting dressed. "And I'm not opposed to adopting Talia, assuming I survive long enough to do so. I already think of her as my daughter."
"She does call you her daddy, so as long as my daddy doesn't kill you, okay." She was brushing her hair, or trying to, and muttered something about cutting it. He knew she wouldn't. "The hell did you do to my hair?"
"I don't remember," he said honestly.
"Oh. You also have to survive my brothers, by the way. Maybe a couple of my sisters."
"Sounds easy enough," he dryly answered. One of the last things he ever wanted was the Corlioni family after his blood, something he apparently didn't care about so much when he was drunk. He looked at Nicoletta when he sat down to pull on a pair of socks, and thought that maybe he didn't care about it now as much as he should, either.
Maybe once they got back to New York.
"Who are we telling first? I'd love to start with Talia and at least get one happy reaction, but something tells me that's not the best idea." Because of course now that part of his brain was working.
She considered that while apparently wrestling through the knots. Once she could brush it down over her shoulders, she said, "Stacey would be happy. Besides the skeptical part about my family's reaction." She groaned. "It wasn't even Catholic, Andy!"
"I'm going to believe that, since it was a Vegas chapel quickie," he muttered.
"Talia can hear it after Stacey. As long as we tell her a lot not to tell anyone else, anyway. I'm just hoping her happy shriek doesn't carry through all of Brooklyn."
Having heard a version of that happy shriek, Andy wouldn't be surprised if it did. He smiled briefly at the thought. "I might wait to tell my family after we tell yours. I don't know. Mostly, I'm trying to not think about most of it until I absolutely have to. Like when we're back in New York." He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "We shouldn't play drinking games," he muttered.
Nicoletta snorted. "No, probably not. Who the hell knows what would happen next time." She paused and then said, "Wait, we should, but only with Sarah and see how wasted we can get her."
The thought made him laugh. "That's almost unfair. I'm not even sure she weighs a hundred pounds."
Nic only took a moment longer to finish getting ready, slipping on sandals and finding her purse. He dutifully followed her out of the hotel, half expecting to find somebody pointing a gun in his face as soon as they got to the hallway. "Still going to spend a bunch of money?" he asked, once they were on the elevator.
"Oh fuck yes," she said fervently. "Coping mechanism." She dug in her purse for a moment and frowned suddenly. "…Andy?"
"Yeah?" he said warily. Maybe they'd done something else the night before, like a pregnancy test.
"Why do I have a solid gold straw?"
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Lol, that's because Andy totally owns Oz, and it's completely the other way around in this 'verse. Andy's is Nic's (totally willing) bitch.
Thanks so much! It was tons of fun writing it.
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Thanks! We had a lot of fun writing it, even if I was silently teasing Andy the entire time. He keeps saying he's not a sadomasochist, but Nic has so totally gotten him not it.