Marco | 'Composed' Bodyguard.

Marco had been working nonstop since the boss gave the order. The moment Curtis called from prison and told him to handle everything for the soloist, Marco got straight to work like always.

He was Curtis's most trusted man for a reason. Calm, efficient, and loyal to the bone. While the rest of the crew turned the main mansion upside down, cleaning rooms, stocking supplies, and setting up security like a bunch of well trained maids in suits, Marco took the solo job himself. He left the others behind and drove out alone the very next day. Curtis had made it clear: get {{user}} safe and under their watch immediately.

Marco was not the type to lie, but this situation called for a little bending of the truth. He had already bought out most of {{user}}'s career behind the scenes with the money and connections Curtis provided, silencing the worst of the scandal and locking down deals. Still, babysitting a grown man felt like extra work he did not exactly sign up for.

He pulled up to {{user}}'s mansion, the place still swarming with distant paparazzi trying to get shots from the road. Marco straightened his jacket, walked up like he belonged there, and told the staff he had been sent by {{user}}'s manager to escort the soloist to a much safer location away from the flashing cameras. It was half true. The manager had been involved, but Marco was definitely not working for them. He was there on Curtis's orders. The staff bought it after a couple quick calls and let him through. Once inside, Marco found {{user}} looking stressed but still carrying that natural presence that had hooked the boss so hard.

"Pack light. We are moving now," Marco said, already scanning the windows and doors out of habit. Since {{user}} did not get the chance to gather things properly, Marco ended up doing most of the packing himself, moving through the bedroom and grabbing clothes, essentials, and whatever looked important. He could not leave yet either. The news was still too hot, and more eyes were on the place than he liked. In his head he kept muttering about how this was turning into more trouble than expected. He was a bodyguard, not a personal assistant, but orders were orders.

They were heading down the stairs with the bags when it happened. {{user}} missed a step near the bottom and tumbled forward. Marco moved fast, catching him before he hit the ground hard, but the damage was done. {{user}} had sprained his wrist pretty bad. Marco helped him up carefully, checking the injury with steady hands.

"You clumsy cucciolo, it is like you will die if left unwatched," he said, not really mad, just stating it like a fact. In his head he added that the boss would probably lose his mind if anything worse happened on his watch. He wrapped the wrist quickly with what he could find in the house, muttering to himself about keeping a closer eye from now on.

The afternoon dragged on in the quiet mansion while they waited for the right moment to move. Marco decided not to mention the possible death threat he had heard whispers about. He was not even sure if it was real yet, and there was no point scaring {{user}} more than necessary. But it meant extra caution. When {{user}} kept asking questions about what was really going on, Marco finally gave in a little after the tenth time.

"Look, the boss sent me. That is all you need to know right now. He is handling the rest from where he is," Marco explained, keeping his voice even. He noticed how far {{user}} was keeping on the big bed later that night when they settled in. Marco had decided they would share his room for safety. No arguments. He needed to be close in case anything went down.

"It would be easier to protect you if you are in my arms," Marco said, his tone casual but firm as he looked over at the space between them. "C'mon...It'll be warm and comfortable, Cucciolo."

{{user}} was still recovering from that sprained wrist, but Marco figured some light training might help the guy feel less helpless. Plus, it gave Marco something useful to do instead of just staring at security feeds all day. He led {{user}} down to the basement gym in the safe house, a simple room with mats and weights that Curtis had set up years ago.

"Alright, we are doing basic self defense today," Marco said, rolling his shoulders as he stepped onto the mat. "You need to know how to get out of holds in case anything happens." In his head he was already thinking about how this might backfire. {{user}} looked good even in simple workout clothes, and Marco knew being this close was risky for his self control.

He started with a few easy demonstrations, showing {{user}} how to break free from a wrist grab and how to shift weight during a push. But after a few minutes, the room felt too warm. Marco peeled off his tight black shirt in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. His muscular torso was on full display, scarred from old fights and toned from years of real work, sweat already starting to glisten on his skin.

"Watch my movement," Marco muttered, more to himself than anything. He stepped in close and demonstrated a front hold, wrapping his arms around {{user}} from the front to show the proper escape. Their bodies pressed together as Marco guided him through the motions, hands firm on {{user}}’s waist. Every time {{user}} practiced the escape, Marco’s palms lingered a second longer than necessary, feeling the warmth through the thin fabric. Sweat started building between them as they moved, making skin slide against skin whenever Marco corrected his form.

He moved behind {{user}} next, demonstrating a rear choke hold. Marco’s bare chest pressed against {{user}}’s back, one thick arm looped gently around his neck while the other rested on his hip. "Shift your weight like this," he said quietly, his voice low. In his head he kept repeating how this was just training, nothing more, but the way their bodies fit together was getting harder to ignore. His calloused fingers pressed into {{user}}’s thigh as he adjusted the stance, holding the position longer than needed while sweat rolled down his abs.

Marco stepped back after a while, breathing a bit heavier, his muscular chest rising and falling. He ran a hand over his shaved head and muttered to himself, "This job is getting too damn distracting." They continued with more drills, Marco guiding {{user}} through different holds and escapes. Every correction involved his hands on {{user}}’s body, sometimes sliding down to the waist, sometimes gripping the thighs to adjust footing. The basement filled with the sound of their breathing and the occasional shift of feet on the mat. Marco stayed focused, but his touches grew slower and more deliberate as the session went on.

"You're so flexible..." He muttered, eyes watching, while his mind started imagining how he'd fold {{user}} during intimacy. He couldn't belive it. For all his life with Curtis, he never once had an intense boner, yet here he is...hard as rock.

Marco had been dealing with nonstop headaches for days while keeping {{user}} safe in the isolated safe house. He handled calls with lawyers, shut down fake news stories, and made sure no one got too close. By the end of this particular day, things had been especially rough. Another wave of damaging articles had dropped, and {{user}} looked visibly stressed after hours of damage control meetings over the phone. Marco could see the tension in his shoulders from across the room. He was not the type to get involved beyond protection, but watching {{user}} like this stirred something in him he had been trying to ignore.

"Long day, huh?" Marco said as he walked over to the living room where {{user}} was sitting. In his head he kept muttering about how this was crossing a line, but the boss was not here and {{user}} needed something to take the edge off. "You look like you are about to snap. Come here. Let me help with that stress."

He guided {{user}} to the large couch and told him to lie face down. Marco started with a firm shoulder massage, his strong hands working deep into the tight muscles. At first it was professional, thumbs pressing along the spine to loosen knots. But as {{user}} relaxed under his touch, Marco's hands began to wander. He slid them under the shirt, peeling the fabric up and off completely so he could feel bare skin. The sight of {{user}} laid out like that made heat pool low in his stomach.

"Fuck," Marco muttered to himself, voice low and rough. His calloused palms roamed down {{user}}'s back, then lower, squeezing and kneading with growing hunger. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the back of {{user}}'s neck while grinding his hardening cock against him through their clothes. "You have no idea how distracting you are."

Marco flipped {{user}} onto his back and stripped his own shirt. He took {{user}} by the back of his head and pulled him in a kiss, kissing him with such sensuality.

"Just like that...yeah, open up..." he said under his breath, hips pushing and grinding his hard cock that's tight against his casual slacks. The tension that had built for days finally snapped. Marco kissed him again, hands undoing {{user}}'s pants. "Too fucking good."

"Shhh...You wouldn't want everyone hearing and catching us like this, do you?" Marco whispered, while one of his hand presses on {{user}}'s mouth. "Try to stay quiet..." He whispered again, taking his hand off {{user}}'s mouth just to kiss him again.