Capitulu XIII. Fratelli in Strada
I was humming along to the song playing on the radio, my forehead resting against the window as the countryside blurred past in streaks of green and gold. Clément was behind the wheel, eyes shaded by his sunglasses, focused and steady like always.
The sunlight danced on his arms, catching the faint sheen of muscle beneath the tight sleeves of his shirt, each shift of the steering wheel stretching the fabric just a little. We looked alike, same jawline, same mouth, same eyes, probably more than I liked to admit. But where I was carved in finer lines, more contained somehow, Clément carried himself with something tougher. Not brutish, never that, but undeniably rugged.
I never saw myself as feminine, and no one had ever said so either, but I wasn’t exactly cut from the same cloth. I was an upper class kid, polished around the edges, at ease with words and innuendos.
Clément didn’t bother with that; he didn’t have to. He had that quiet, heavy presence of someone you instinctively think twice about before crossing. It wasn’t just his size, it was the way he moved, the silence he let hang when others would fill it.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I replied with a playful shrug.
“You’re looking at me weirdly, like you’re plotting something.” He laughed, flashing me a teasing glance before turning back to the road.
“Well, you’re the one driving and I’m the one who got no idea where we’re headed, so if anyone’s plotting something here, it’s not me!” I shot back, smirking.
“Surely you figured it out already, you’re not blind.” He chuckled, a teasing smirk at the corner of his mouth.
“Sartène?” I guessed.
“Yeah. We’ll stop there for lunch. A uni friend of mine recommended a really good barbecue spot. Doubt they’ll have figatellu though, it’s still a bit early. Shame.”
“Yuck, I hate figatellu.” I said, wincing.
“Whatever!” Clément laughed. “After lunch, we’ll head toward the Valinco Gulf, walk around Propriano, maybe grab an ice cream. Then I’ll take us to our evening spot, where we’ll sleep.”
“Where is that?” I asked, curiosity laced with a touch of wariness.
“That’s a secret, so you can’t bitch about it beforehand!” He chuckled, slapping my thigh playfully.
“Complaining? That’s really not my style.” I shot back cheekily. Clément snickered and turned the music up.
“So I don’t have to hear your lies!” He teased over the volume.
Clément’s friend was right; the barbecue place was incredible. I felt so full afterward I could barely summon the strength to walk back to the car.
Propriano was a small coastal town, bustling in summer but nearly deserted despite the bright November sun. We still managed to find a place selling ice cream and wandered through the quiet streets, eating as the wind whistled through the rigging of the docked sailboats.
We sat by the harbor and chatted for a while, talking about our lives, our parents, our projects for the future. It was nice to be just the two of us for once, as it happened surprisingly scarcely.
As the sun started getting lower on the horizon, we walked back to the car and headed to our next destination.
After about fifteen minutes, we arrived on a beach by a Genovese tower on the other side of the gulf. I recognized it instantly; we used to come here often with our cousins when we were kids, spending hours playing in the waves with Clément.
Just by the sand stood a small pizzeria called Chez Angèle, still here after all these years and, surprisingly, still open. It was run by an old woman and her sons. She probably wouldn’t recognize me now, but the moment I saw her sitting on the terrace, I did.
We walked on the empty beach with Clément and sat on the sand, the sunset giving the sky an orange glow. Porto-Vecchio was blessed with sunrises, but never with sunsets, as we were on the wrong side of the coast, so it was a very beautiful and unique moment that we enjoyed in silence, lulled by the waves and the faint wind.
I turned and looked at my brother with a faint smile. I wondered what his intentions were by bringing me here, reminiscing a long gone past. A quiet guilt settled over me as I thought back to the way I’d treated him lately.
We’d never been especially close growing up, it’s true, but we’d still shared good moments; this beach was proof of that. The fact that he’d chosen it, of all places, made me think it wasn’t just nostalgia. Maybe, to him too, this place meant something. Maybe our relationship mattered more to him than I’d ever allowed myself to believe.
He eventually turned to meet my gaze and reached over to squeeze my shoulder, a quiet smile spreading across his face.
“Thank you, Clément.”
“For what?”
“For this,” I replied, glancing around at the beach, the sea, the fading light. “For bringing me here.”
He held my eyes for a second, the corners of his mouth lifting again, though a flicker of awkwardness showed in his gaze. Clément wasn’t someone who wore his emotions easily, especially not the tender ones. Then, just as suddenly, he stood up, brushing sand from his hands.
“Come on.” He said, stretching his back. “Let’s take a walk before it gets too dark. It’s been ages since I set foot here.”
The pizza was just as good as I remembered, and we chatted and laughed through dinner, reminiscing about our cousins and half-joking about visiting them on the continent sometime soon.
Afterwards, Clément pulled the duffle bags from the trunk, and we made our way back to the beach. The evening air had turned a little chilly, but the sky was clear; at least we wouldn’t be rained on during the night.
We lay on the sand, using our bags as makeshift pillows, gazing up at the star-speckled sky. It was still too early to sleep, but I doubted either of us would stay up too late.
I shifted slightly, the weight of my thoughts growing harder to ignore, then turned to him with a hesitant look.
“You know, Clément… I wanted to apologize.”
He turned his head toward me, brow creased in confusion.
“For what?”
“I mean… I know I haven’t been the easiest lately. And I’ve said things I didn’t mean. You’re not as bad a brother as I made you out to be.”
He scoffed, caught between surprise and amusement.
“Well, that’s good to know,” He chuckled. “But you don’t owe me an apology. I know I’ve let you down, more than once, and maybe I needed to hear it.”
“It’s okay. I know it hasn’t been easy for you either… the moves, starting over, adapting to life here.”
“Still. I’m your big brother. That should mean something. I should’ve looked out for you more.” His voice softened, his mouth tugging into a self-conscious pout.
“I wouldn’t be so good at fending for myself if you had.” I smiled, turning toward him. “I don’t regret anything. I’m just glad we’re building something now. I really like spending time with you… and not just because your friends are hot.”
“You little shit!” He laughed, shaking his head. “I like spending time with you too. But I’ve still got a lot to learn. Be patient with me, okay?”
“I will,” I promised gently. “I know I can be a handful sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” He scoffed. “You’re a full-time project.” He grinned. “But that’s not what I meant. I don’t really know what it’s like to be gay. Honestly, I don’t think I’d ever knowingly met a gay guy before you.”
“And now your brother and your best friend are gay. You’re blessed.” I smirked. He rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, and I’ll be billing you both for therapy.”
“Sorry,” I laughed. “But seriously; Ange is your best friend. I hope you’re doing everything you can to support him, especially now that I’m not allowed to talk to him anymore.”
Clément looked away, his gaze drifting up to the sky. He let out a slow sigh.
“We haven’t really talked about it.” He admitted. “I confronted him about you, asked for details, made him swear it’d never happen again… but that was it. Since then, we’ve just been back to normal.”
“Clem, that normal is a lie. And for him, it probably feels like you don’t accept who he is. I get that you’re mad, but it’s unfair to punish him for being gay.”
“I’m not!” He shot back defensively, throwing me a sharp glance.
“Good. Then talk to him. Not about me if that’s too weird, but talk to him about him. Ask how he’s doing. Open up the subject. Show him you’re there for him. Trust me, I’ve been through this; when I came out to Yanis, he didn’t take it well, and it crushed me.”
“He didn’t? But you two are good now, right?” Clément frowned.
“Yeah, we’re good. But when I came out, he totally flipped. Called me names. Told me never to show my face again.”
“What the fuck?” Clément sat up straighter, his face clouding with anger and shock.
“Relax.” I laughed at his reaction. “He begged for forgiveness a few hours later, but it still hurt like hell. That’s why I’m saying this to you.”
Clément exhaled.
“Ange and I are good now. I just don’t want to push him. He can talk to me when he’s ready.”
“But he won’t!” I insisted, my voice rising with a mix of frustration and affection. “You say you’ve got a lot to learn? Then listen to me. You have to bring it up. Don’t just go back to pretending he’s straight, that’s not helping. Be the kind of friend he can open up to.”
Clément looked at me and offered a small, sheepish smile.
“Noted.”
“Good.” I said, chuckling despite myself.
“What about you? Are you seeing anyone? I figured not, after… you know. What happened with Ange.”
“It’s… a bit complicated, to be honest. But no, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Complicated how?” Clément asked, frowning.
“He’s got a girlfriend.” The bitterness in my voice slipped out before I could catch it.
“Max…” He sighed, and I could hear the judgment creeping in. I bristled.
“Look, if I had to rule out every so-called straight guy, I’d be stuck jerking off for the rest of my life.” I met his eyes. “This is Corsica, Clem. I might actually be one of the only openly gay guys on this damn island.”
“If you say so…”
The next day, Clément took us to Ajaccio, and we spent the afternoon wandering around, just hanging out. After dinner, he insisted we go for a drink somewhere. He seemed unusually excited about the idea, so I went along with it. One of his uni friends had recommended a bar near the cathedral, and that’s where we ended up.
Clément glanced around, clearly in the mood to chat with people. I could tell he was trying to spot someone interesting, or maybe just soak up the vibe. I pulled out my phone and absentmindedly scrolled while he made his way to the counter to get us some drinks.
I opened Grindr more out of habit than curiosity; there wasn’t anything tempting in the area, not that I was planning on meeting anyone. Just the usual mix of torsos and blank profiles, the same old script. I put the phone away, leaned back, and watched my brother as he chatted briefly with the bartender. He looked comfortable in this kind of setting, more than I did, maybe.
“Are you still seeing that girl I met in Corte?” I asked, taking the beer Clément handed me. “I can’t remember her name.”
“Marina?” He replied, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, we hang out sometimes.”
“You hang out sometimes?” I repeated, chuckling mockingly. “What do you do, play Scrabble?”
Clément rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval.
“Well, what we do when we hang out is obviously none of your business.” He said with a sly smirk.
“Oh, so it’s that kind of hanging out!” I laughed. “I hope you’re using condoms; I’m not ready to be an uncle yet!”
“Again, not your business.” He said with a wink.
“Are you two serious, or is it just a pump-and-dump situation?”
“Max, why do you have to make it sound so gross?” Clément replied, frowning with mock indignation and letting out a soft laugh.
“Come on, don’t be such a prude, I’m not Mom.” I said, rolling my eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t say worse stuff with your mates.”
“Yeah, with my mates. You’re my little brother.” He laughed, shaking his head.
“Can’t I be both?” I shot back, arching an eyebrow and holding his gaze with a half-serious smirk.
“Hey guys.”
I looked up and saw a guy around twenty-five, sun-kissed and confident in that effortless way that made it seem like he belonged wherever he showed up. He had dark, tousled hair, a sharp jawline, and a smile that felt just a little too charming to be entirely innocent. He shot me a glance, his eyes lingering just a little longer on me, a cocky smirk at the corner of his mouth.
“Mind if we join you? It’s chaos near the bar, I think someone just elbowed my ribs into retirement.”
“Go for it.” Clément said, shifting to the side with a polite nod.
The guy gestured to the woman beside him, who gave us a small, apologetic smile. She was pretty in a quiet, understated way, wide eyes, minimal makeup, the kind of girl who didn’t need to try too hard to be noticed.
“I’m Polo.” He said, setting his drink down on the sticky wooden surface, getting right next to me. “And this is Hannah.”
“Clément.” My brother replied with a short nod. “And that’s Max.”
“Max et Clément…” Polo repeated, grinning. “Sounds like a detective duo.”
“Only if the case involves beer and poor life choices.” I said, watching him as he laughed, white teeth, sun-creased eyes.
“Are you locals?” Clément asked, turning toward Hannah.
“Born and raised.” Polo answered before she could, glancing at her with a smile. “What about you guys? Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
“We’re from Porto-Vecchio.” I said. “Spending some brotherly quality time together.” I gave Clément a wink, smirking.
“Oh, you’re brothers?” Polo raised an eyebrow. His expression shifted slightly, amused, maybe, but with something else behind it. Surprise? Disappointment?
“Yes! Can’t you tell?” Clément laughed.
“You do look a lot alike, actually.” Hannah added with a smile.
“Sure, can we get you something to drink? Looks like your glasses are empty.”
The four of us ended up chatting for nearly an hour. Hannah stayed on the quieter side, but she was kind, attentive, and easy to talk to. Polo, on the other hand, radiated energy and charm, he made it easy for all of us to click. Clément looked happy to be socializing, and even though part of me wanted to keep him all to myself, I knew we still had two more days of the trip ahead, just the two of us. I could share, for now.
Polo was undeniably handsome. About my height, with a smile like sunlight and eyes that seemed permanently amused, like the world was just a game he knew how to win. His navy blue shirt pulled tight across his chest every time he leaned in and casually placed a hand on my side while speaking. He smelled clean, like fresh laundry and perfume, and when he leaned closer to talk over the music, his breath brushed the side of my neck.
He kept turning to me as he finished his sentence, as if he was talking mostly to me, flashing me an impeccable grin each time, leaning just slightly towards me.
“I need to use the bathroom.” I said eventually, handing my empty glass to a passing waiter before weaving my way through the thick crowd.
After pissing at the urinal, I moved to the sink. As I washed my hands, Polo appeared beside me, seemingly out of nowhere. He glanced left, then right, then slipped his hand into my back pocket. His breath brushed my ear as he leaned in, voice low, smirk confident.
“That’s my number.” He whispered. “I saw you on Grindr. At first, I thought you were here with your boyfriend looking for a threesome, but your brother can still join us if he wants.” He added with a light chuckle.
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes.
“Text me tonight. I’ll pick you up. I’ll make sure you don’t regret it.”
Then he winked and walked out, leaving me frozen in front of the mirror, hands dripping onto the sink, heart thudding.
His phone number was still warm in my pocket. And the ghost of his hand on my ass lingered like a dare I wasn’t sure I had the strength to turn down.
I gulped and dried my hands, then walked back to the table like an automaton, unsure how to act now that Polo had revealed his true colors. But I didn’t have to think for long.
“Well, guys, it’s been really nice meeting you, but we’ve gotta take off.” Polo said, slipping an arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “Enjoy your time here, and see you around.” He added a wink for good measure.
“Bye, guys!” Hannah said with a gentle smile, giving us a little wave as they disappeared into the crowd.
“They were fun!” Clément beamed, turning to me with a grin, completely oblivious.
About half an hour later, as Clément crashed onto the bed in our Airbnb, I slipped a hand into my back pocket and felt the folded paper still sitting there; Polo’s number. I hesitated.
Hannah had seemed like such a nice girl. I felt bad for her, caught in the middle of something she didn’t see coming. But Polo… fuck.
What an asshole.
And yet… Zeus, what a hot guy.
After all, Antonu had a girlfriend too. How was this really any different? Guys like them, they had to play straight to keep their friends and families off their backs. Being gay in Corsica was a bet only a few of us were brave, or stupid, enough to make.
I pulled out the paper and unfolded it, staring at the number for a long moment, exhaling sharply.
“I’m jumping in the shower.” Clément said, peeling off his sweater and tossing it by his bag.
“Clem?” I said, hesitating.
“Yeah?”
“Do you mind if I go out tonight?”
“What?” He turned to me, frowning. “Alone? Why?”
“I… might have a chance to meet a guy.”
He stared at me, confused, his expression shifting to irritation.
“A guy? Seriously, Max?”
“Yes. Would it bother you that much?”
“What the fuck? Of course it bothers me. Why do you need to go out and hook up with some random guy while I’m here waiting for you to finish getting fucked?”
“Would it bother you that much if it were a girl?” I asked, my tone firmer now.
“Jesus, Max. I thought we were past this.”
“It’s a real question.” I said, locking eyes with him. “You told me you still had a lot to learn about what it means for me to be gay, and that I should be patient. And I will be. But that means I can’t hide this part of my life from you.”
“Max…”
“It’s true,” I cut in, stepping closer. “I know I’m your little brother, but I’m also eighteen, I’m gay, and I love sex. I’m not ashamed of that. If it really bothers you, I swear I won’t go. No sulking, no guilt trip. But think about it while you shower, okay?”
Clément sighed, rubbing his face.
“I don’t know what to say, I just…”
“Don’t say anything now. Go shower. I’ll wait.” I said, giving him a small, tense smile.
He looked at me for a second, then exhaled loudly, grabbed his towel, and headed for the bathroom.
I let myself fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, unsure of what he’d say, but ready to respect his answer. In a way, it felt like the universe’s verdict on Polo. If the gods approved, they’d speak through my brother. If not… well. I’d probably end up locked in the bathroom, jerking off over a cheating straight guy with great hair and a killer smile.
After what felt like hours, Clément finally stepped out of the bathroom, wearing only his boxer briefs, the towel slung over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, a mix of seriousness and quiet resignation.
“Who’s the guy?”
“Does it matter?” I replied, pushing myself up on one elbow.
“It does if your safety’s involved.”
“It’s the guy from the bar.” I sighed.
Clément blinked, and I watched the recognition hit him like a slap.
“Polo? The guy with the girlfriend that… oh my god, Max…”
“I know…” I said quietly, holding his gaze.
A long silence stretched between us. Then he let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his damp hair.
“You’ll share your location with me the whole time. Keep your phone on and close. And I want his number, non-negotiable.”
“Okay.” I said with a small nod, my voice barely above a whisper.
After a quick shower, I got dressed and caught Clément’s gaze as I adjusted my trousers. He was lying on his back on the bed, watching me with a quiet, unsettled look. He was still unsure, I could see it in his eyes.
I leaned over him and dropped a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks for trusting me with this, Clem. It means a lot.”
“Just… be careful, Max.” He said, his voice low and a little strained. “Not everyone out there has good intentions.”
I gave a small shrug and chuckled.
“Well, we all have to die of something.”
He sat up slightly, frowning.
“Okay, that’s not reassuring.”
I laughed, raking my fingers through my hair one last time.
“Don’t worry, I’ll come back in one piece. The gods are on my side.” I flashed him a crooked smile and headed for the door.
“I’ll text you when I’m on my way back. Try not to miss me too much!”
And with that, I darted out of the apartment, heart pounding, taking the stairs two at a time. I stepped out of my building and looked around me.
I spotted the black BMW waiting a few metres down the street, headlights dimmed but engine purring like a promise. I walked toward it, each step heavier than I expected. I opened the passenger door and slid into the leather seat. Polo turned to me, one hand on the wheel, the other draped casually over the gearshift. His smirk spread slow, deliberate.
“I was worried you wouldn’t text after all.”
“Really?” I scoffed, raising an eyebrow, my eyes lingering on his profile. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who worries about anything. Especially not about consequences.”
“You’re right. I usually don’t.” He glanced at me then, the look lingering too long. “I guess I just really wanted a taste of that ass of yours.”
My jaw tightened, but I didn’t look away.
“Let’s go then.” I answered, a hint of defiance lingering in my tone despite my growing excitement.
About 20 minutes later, I was standing in his living room, the door clicking shut behind me. The place was clean, almost sterile. A space built for convenience, not comfort. He poured me a glass of water with the slow, deliberate grace of someone who always assumes things will go his way.
“I guess Hannah doesn’t live here.”
“No, she doesn’t, you won’t have to worry about her tonight.” He answered, taking a step closer.
“I suppose you don’t worry about her much either,” I said, turning slightly to put the glass on the coffee table. My voice was calm, but laced with steel.
He chuckled, low and warm, and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You disapprove.” His breath brushed my neck as he spoke, lips dangerously close to skin. “I can live with that. But still, you’re here.” He pointed out, amusement in his voice.
“I am.” I exhaled, barely above a whisper. “But maybe I shouldn’t be.”
“Maybe not.” He softly chuckled. “I like that you’re resisting though, it just makes it more fun.”
“Really?” I asked, arching an eyebrow and glancing at him over my shoulder. “You like to play with your food before you eat it?”
“I do, and I’m starving.” He answered, grabbing a fistful of my ass. “You can’t blame me for wanting a piece of this.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t blame you.” I smirked cockily, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “It’s your instinct, and I’m just too irresistible.”
“Damn right you are.” He agreed, pushing me towards the sofa and making me sit on it.
He peeled the shirt from his back with swift confidence, his eyes never leaving me. The belt followed with a snap. I reached for him, slow and deliberate, placing my hand over his bulge, meeting his stare with one of my own, hungry, sharp, defiant.
I held his gaze, unbuttoning his jeans while he smirked down at me, cocky and hungry for more. I gulped and hooked his waistband, pulling down in a swift movement.
His cock sprang free and bounced up and down, rock-hard and pointing upward, a pearl of precum already coating the tip. I smiled slyly and playfully opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out before guiding his cockhead over it.
“Are you hungry for it?” He asked, oozing of self confidence.
“I am.” I confirmed, cupping his balls in my hand.
“Go for it then.” He instructed, putting his hand on the back of my head and pushing forward, his cock sliding inside of my mouth. I moaned around it and closed my eyes for a second, savoring the taste and relishing on the moment.
I pushed forward and my nose hit his pubes, Polo groaning above me.
“Fuck…” He muttered hoarsely.
I bobbed up and down on his cock, scrutinizing his facial expression while my tongue darted around his cockhead, teasing him with a slow rhythm. I pulled out and started licking his balls, letting his cock rest on my face.
His scent was intoxicating, and I was fully in the moment. I slid from the couch and kneeled in front of him, signaling my utter submission as he smirked wider. He grabbed his cock and slapped it on my face softly as I took his balls in my mouth.
I resumed sucking his cock, holding his gaze submissively, his hand pushing me further and further on his meat, his thrust turning this gentle blowjob into a real face-fucking.
After a few minutes of this sloppy predicament, Polo pulled on my hair and took me off his cock. I looked up at him, panting and submissive, and he grinned.
“Get up.” He commanded. I swallowed hard and complied, unsure about what he wanted to do before he flipped me around, facing the sofa and the wall, and fumbled around to unbutton my trousers before dropping on his knees.
He lowered my briefs and trousers and grabbed my butt cheeks with both his hands. He roughly parted my legs further and plunged his face between my legs, his tongue darting forward and touching my twitching pink hole.
I gripped the sofa’s cushion and winced with pleasure, his tongue sending shivers down my spine. I moaned and maneuvered to kneel on the couch, leaning over the back of it. His face followed and he kept devouring my pussy, grabbing a hold of my cock and gently jerking it off.
Suddenly, Polo straightened up and stood up behind me. He spat on his cock and even before I realized it, I felt his cockhead poking at my hole.
He was rough, and it hurt, but I knew the pain would quickly fade. His balls touched mine as he plunged deep inside of me and I moaned. His hands gripped my hips like a vice and he quickly started pounding me, hard.
“Are you still busy feeling sorry for Hannah?” Polo spat out, a mix of contempt and arousal lacing his tone.
“No.” I whimpered, eyes half closed, head resting against the back of the couch.
“I guessed as much.” He scoffed, intensifying his assault. “My cock tends to have that effect on submissive little faggots like you.”
“Yes! Give me more, please!” I moaned, the sound of his balls slapping against my ass filling the whole room.
“More of what? Say it!”
“More of your cock! Give me more of your cock!” I begged.
“If you insist.” He answered, pulling out entirely and slamming it back in one brutal thrust.
“Zeus…” I whimpered.
“You have one tight pussy, baby!” He said, his movement inside of me a blur that made me high with lust. “I’m going to cum inside of you, do you want that baby?”
“Yes!” I almost shouted.
“You want my cum leaking from your pussy, faggot?”
“Yes, please!”
“Fuck!” He grunted, his cock balls deep inside of me, his balls twitching as he came inside of me. “Fuck…” He repeated, softer, leaning over me and resting his head on my sweaty back.
He slowly pulled out of me and collapsed on the sofa beside me, breath shallow, chest heaving. I let out a long exhale and shifted, sitting up and resting my head against his shoulder. The silence was thick, broken only by the sound of our breathing.
“I guess you’re done bitching about my girlfriend.” He said eventually, a lazy, smug grin tugging at his lips.
I rolled my eyes, the weight of his arrogance settling over me like a blanket I hadn’t asked for.
“I am.” I said flatly.
He turned to glance at me, amused.
“What did you tell your brother, by the way? Does he even know you went out?”
“The truth.” I replied, my tone casual, almost bored. I traced a line along the seam of the sofa with my finger.
“The truth?” He repeated, a little laugh caught in his throat, but something in his voice cracked, just slightly. “What do you mean?”
I looked at him, locking eyes with that spark of unease he tried to blink away.
“I told him you gave me your number and wanted to fuck me.” I said. “And I asked for his permission to go.”
The smirk faltered. Polo let out a short laugh, clearly thinking I was just being provocative. But I didn’t look away. I held his stare. His brow twitched.
“Wait. Seriously? Is he gay too?”
“No.” I said, almost smiling. “He’s just my brother. And since we’re sharing an Airbnb, I figured he deserved some honesty. I came out to him not that long ago.”
“Right,” Polo muttered, eyes narrowing slightly. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or threatened by that level of transparency. “Okay…”
A pause stretched between us, the kind that teeters between comfort and something colder.
“Anyway.” He said at last, the cocky tone crawling back into his voice like it had never left. “I guess I should drive you back. We wouldn’t want your brother getting all worried, now would we?”
He turned toward me again, the smirk sharpened.
“Not after I stuffed his baby bro full of my cum.” He winked.
I let out a quiet chuckle, not because it was funny, but because it was so perfectly him.
“How considerate of you.”
Then I reached over, fingers sliding down his thigh with deliberate slowness. I found his softening cock, still warm, still twitching faintly, and wrapped my hand around it. A pearl of cum clung to the tip, catching the light like something sacred and shameless at once.
He inhaled sharply, but didn’t move. His bravado slipped just an inch. And I smiled, just enough to let him know: he might think he’s in control, but he’s not the only one playing.
When I walked back into the Airbnb, Clément was lying on the bed on his side, scrolling through a YouTube video on his phone. He looked up the moment he heard the door click shut behind me, his eyes scanning me quickly, maybe for signs of trouble, or guilt, or something else he didn’t want to name.
“How was it?” He asked, his tone caught somewhere between casual concern and the kind of defiance you wear when you don’t want to seem hurt.
“Good.” I said with a smirk, kicking off my shoes and flopping down on the bed beside him with a heavy, satisfied sigh. “Very good.” I added, letting the playfulness drip into my voice just enough to tease.
He raised an eyebrow, lips tightening like he was about to make a remark, but then he just breathed out, slow and quiet. Some invisible tension loosened in his shoulders, not entirely, but enough.
“Let’s sleep then.” He muttered, locking his phone and setting it on the nightstand. “We’ll leave early tomorrow.”
His voice was flat, matter-of-fact, but I could tell he was still chewing on the thought of me being out there, with someone like Polo. And yet, he didn’t push. He’d done enough for tonight.
I rolled onto my side and watched him turn his back to me in the dark, the silence between us not cold, but not quite warm either.
“Did he say something in the end?” Yanis asked, lying next to me on my bed a few days later, as I finished telling him about the trip with Clément.
“No, he didn’t mention it the next day, but he wasn’t in a bad mood either.” I said with a shrug. “I think he was just a little taken aback… but it’s going to be fine. For the first time in my life, I’m starting to believe my brother actually loves me.” I let out a laugh, half amused, half relieved.
“Your relationship sounds way better than what I’ve got with my sister, really.” Yanis muttered, his voice laced with both amusement and a tinge of bitterness.
“What about your cousin, though?” I asked, flashing a provocative smirk. Yanis shot me a deadly glare, and I laughed. “What? Are we going to talk about it or not? Surely I gave you enough time.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Oh, there’s definitely something to talk about!” I grinned, sitting up on my elbow. “Gianlucca being your flesh and blood, for a start!”
“Don’t phrase it like that,” Yanis winced, visibly recoiling.
“And your mother confronting your aunt! And Saveria!” I ticked off on my fingers like a gossip-starved auntie. “Come on, you can’t just punish me with no information. I practically saved your life back there!”
He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance.
“We had a long talk with Mom… about her life before she met Dad, her family. It was heavy.” He admitted with a long breath, his gaze going distant. “But I needed to hear it. I’ve been curious about that side of the family for years. Now I finally understand.”
“And Saveria?”
“We haven’t talked much since. I think we’re okay, just… cautious. Mostly worried about her parents. But so far, it doesn’t look like they know anything.”
“So that means…” I tilted my head.
“Ew, no! She’s Gianlucca’s paternal cousin.” Yanis said with a laugh, punching my arm.
“Fair enough.” I chuckled and let my head fall on his arm, my voice softening. “I’m really sorry you had to go through all that. I know you hate when I ‘pity’ you, but… it’s unfair. On you. On your mom too. Getting rejected by her own parents over something like that…”
“Thanks, Max.” He said gently, patting my back. “It’s okay. I’ve still got amazing people by my side.”
A meek smile crept across my face, and without even noticing it, I started dozing off against him, lulled by the warmth of his body and the quiet rhythm of his breathing.
When I woke up, I was curled into him, my face tucked into the crook of his neck, my cheek resting against his chest. My arm draped lazily over him, fingers brushing his opposite shoulder.
Yanis was calmly scrolling on his phone, totally unbothered, when a knock echoed from my door.
“Hey, I just wanted to know if…” Mom’s voice came from the hallway before she caught sight of us. Her words froze. “I… uh… sorry, I…” she stammered, her face flushing bright red as she backed out and closed the door.
Yanis and I exchanged glances, startled. He blinked, then shrugged, eyebrows raised like what was that about?
Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I slid it out and read the screen.
“How’s my favourite faggot?”
I froze for a second, blinking.
“What the fuck? Who’s that guy?” Yanis asked, sitting upright, voice tense.
“Relax, it’s Polo; the guy from Ajaccio.” I said, shaking my head with a dry chuckle.
“Why the hell is he calling you that?”
“It’s… it’s meant in a sexual way.” I replied awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck.
Yanis gave me a long, searching look, like he wasn’t sure if I was joking or trying to justify something awful. He let out a breath, sharp and quiet, then looked away.
“That’s kind of fucked up.” He muttered.
“Maybe…” I replied, too quickly.
There was a silence.
“Anyway…” He said after a moment, grabbing his phone and sitting up. “I should go. Bastien and Julien wanted to play rugby and I need a shower first.”
I nodded, watching as Yanis sat at the edge of the bed to put his shoes back on. My gaze lingered on his muscled back and arms as he bent forward to tie his laces.
“See you tomorrow.” He said, flashing a soft smile before leaning in to kiss both my cheeks. Then he disappeared through the door, leaving a quiet space behind him.
I sighed and fell back on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“Miss me already?” I texted Polo, smirking to myself.
“You? I don’t know. Your ass? Definitely.”
“You could at least pretend!” I replied, shaking my head with a laugh.
“I would, if you were naïve enough to believe it.”
His arrogance made me roll my eyes, but I couldn’t help the way it stirred something in me. I turned onto my stomach and flipped the camera into selfie mode, arching my back slightly. The jeans hugged my curves perfectly. I snapped a picture.
“So that’s what you’re after?” I sent with the photo, feeling a flicker of heat pulse through me.
I waited, watching the screen, but no reply came. With a sigh, I dropped the phone back into my pocket and headed to the kitchen for something to eat. Mom was acting odd, awkward, distant, but I didn’t ask.
I was just rinsing my plate when my phone buzzed again. I grabbed it, expecting Polo, but froze when I saw the sender.
A number I knew far too well.
“Are you free now?”
My heart leapt.
“Yes.” I replied immediately, already on edge with anticipation.
“Ok, can you be at this address in half an hour?” Antonu sent, along with a pin to a spot in the city center.
I exhaled sharply. I’d have to hurry, but there was no hesitation.
“I’ll be there.”
After a quick shower, I threw on clean clothes and left the house. My earbuds blasted La Traviata as I walked through the darkening streets, adrenaline and music flooding my body in equal measure.
“I’m downstairs.” I texted.
The building’s buzzer crackled, then clicked open. I pushed the door and stepped in.
“3rd floor.”
I climbed quickly, heart hammering. When I reached the landing, the door creaked open, and there he was. Leaning against the frame, arms crossed. His gaze devoured me.
I smirked, stepping forward.
He glanced down the hallway, then seized my arm and pulled me in, the door slamming behind us. In a heartbeat, I was pressed against the wall, his body sealing me in place.
Our faces were millimeters from one another’s, and his intense gaze was piercing mine, my breathing erratic as I melted in his embrace, eager to offer myself to him, to be his.
He closed the gap and pressed his lips against mine, slipping his hand on my nape to press me further in his embrace, my body crushed between his muscles and the wall behind me.
I exhaled, letting go of my frustrations and worries, my mind solely focused on him, on his skin brushing mine and his scent filling my nostrils. He was everything I craved and desired. As much as I wasn’t able to explain the connection I felt to him, I was unable to deny it anymore.
He slipped an arm beneath my thighs and lifted me off the floor, effortlessly, like I weighed nothing. My breath caught in my throat as I wrapped my arms around his neck, my eyes searching his face.
He carried me deeper into the small apartment. I glanced around; dim lighting, sparse furniture, the scent of cologne lingering faintly in the air, but my gaze snapped back to his.
“Where are we?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he dropped me gently onto the sofa, my back sinking into the cushions. His mouth was on my neck in seconds, his lips trailing heat along my skin as a moan escaped me, soft and involuntary.
He peeled my sweatshirt up and off, tossing it aside like it meant nothing.
Then he paused.
His eyes locked with mine, deep, unfiltered, almost vulnerable in their intensity. I held his stare, breath shallow, heart thudding in my chest as I tried to decipher what flickered behind those eyes. But he said nothing. He didn’t need to.
He leaned down again, slower this time, and kissed me, gently, but with something molten smoldering underneath. His hands slid behind my back, pulling me against him, our bodies pressed together, chest to chest, stomach to stomach.
I melted into him, craving his touch, his weight, his silence.
Antonu straightened up and guided me onto my stomach, firm but careful, as though laying me into position was part of some sacred ritual. I felt the fabric of my jeans shift and tighten as he hooked his fingers under the waistband, then slid them down with practiced ease, along with my briefs, exposing me completely.
I turned my head slightly, glancing over my shoulder. My gaze met his. My lids were heavy, half-closed, but my eyes couldn’t lie. There was a flicker of something raw in them, something I’d never let anyone else see. Not even Yanis.
Only him.
His eyes never left mine as he brought two fingers to his mouth, wetting them slowly, deliberately, like he knew I was watching. Then he lowered them, his touch suddenly intimate, exploring, spreading me open with a tenderness that only made me tremble more.
I turned my face toward the cushion, breath shallow, hips twitching against the air. My heart raced at the anticipation, every second stretching out like a lifetime, until I finally felt him. The blunt heat of him, the tip of his cock nudging my entrance, patient and unyielding.
I took a deep breath and felt him penetrate me, his cock stretching my pussy to its limits, his balls soon resting against my skin as his whole meat was lodged inside of me. He dropped a single kiss on my burning nape and started thrusting.
It was brutal, as usual, but for some reason it felt more intimate, as if he wasn’t merely fucking me. I felt a deep sense of safety under him, his large cock pounding me ever faster.
His hands gripped my hips, fingers digging deep into my skin, as he fucked me hard, his balls slapping mine with each thrust. He rested his head against my nape, forehead burning and sweaty, grunting deeply as I bit the pillow with pain and pleasure.
He soon started breathing more erratically and pounding me faster. His orgasm was close, and I felt his powerful muscles move with more intensity over me. He slammed his cock deep inside of me and groaned loudly, his balls twitching as he came inside of me.
He stayed inside of me for a moment, catching up on his breath, kissing my nape tenderly, before pulling out and sitting on the other end of the sofa, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. I straightened up as well, throwing him a weak smile before leaning over him for a soft kiss on his lips.
“Can I take a shower?” I asked softly. He gave a curt nod toward the bathroom.
I stepped into the shower cabin and let the warm water hit me, exhaling as my muscles slowly relaxed. I tried to clear my head, push away the creeping doubts, but it wasn’t easy. I washed with the cheap gel provided, wondering again where we were and how Antonu had access to this place. It clearly wasn’t his home; I knew his family lived in a villa up in Palavese, on the eastern heights of the city.
I dried off quickly and walked out, only to freeze under the weight of his glare, his eyes sharp, raw, and furious. My gaze dropped to my phone in his hand.
“Who’s Polo?” He asked. His voice was low, but the chill in his tone made my skin crawl.
“Polo? He… uh… he’s…” I stammered, taken off guard. “A guy I met in Ajaccio.”
“Just a guy you met in Ajaccio, huh?” He repeated with biting contempt, then threw the phone at me. I caught it mid-air, and the screen lit up.
“Fuck! I can’t wait to fuck your ass again!” Polo’s reply to the photo I’d sent him earlier. I swallowed hard and lifted my eyes back to Antonu’s.
“Just a guy?” He repeated, stepping off the sofa and closing the distance.
“Yeah, just a guy.” I said, firmer now. “I met him in Ajaccio a few days ago, when I was there with my brother. Where were you when he fucked me, huh?” My voice cracked, fierce and bitter. “Were you buried inside Vanessa, whispering that you loved her?”
“Don’t you fucking…” He muttered through gritted teeth. “She’s my girlfriend!”
“And what does that make me, uh?” I shouted back with watery eyes, rage bubbling in my voice. “I’m not your boyfriend, Antonu, I’m not even your friend for fuck’s sake! So why the hell does it matter who I sleep with?”
His jaw tightened.
“I don’t want him touching you again. If he does…”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do!” I shouted, grabbing his chin, my fingers digging in. “I’m not yours, and I’ll never be, not while you’re still someone else’s. So get that through your thick fucking skull and stay out of my goddamn life!”
“Fuck off!” He roared, shoving me hard. “FUCK OFF!”
I shook my head with disgust, grabbed my clothes, and dressed in silence. Then I stormed out of the apartment and slammed the door behind me.
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