The weather might have made my mood foul, or it could be that I had been waiting for over an hour for someone who had no thought for anyone but himself. Right now I don’t care much about him, either. Maybe I’m grumpy because it took longer than usual to lose my tails.
I raise a cigarette to my lips, my first all day. I know I shouldn’t, not before meeting, but I feel like telling the whole world to fuck off. I snap open my lighter and raise it to the tip, only to have the cigarette flicked from my lips.
It can only be Alex.
“I told you not to smoke until after we meet.”
I watch my cigarette disappear into the gutter with the rain. He grabs my collar.
“Come on, let’s go fuck.”
I don’t know why I agree to this in the first place. It would be more than possible to make two homophobic mafia families believe that the respective prized sons were gay, without using sex. Or to piss them off without fucking anybody. I know Alex is smart enough to come up with a way to do it, but he’s a pretty selfish bastard. I think part of him just likes knowing that he’s sticking it to the rival’s son.
“This way,” he says, tapping my arm. The hotel is nothing special. I stand by the elevator while he pays for the room. He uses his real name, then looks over at me, then adds my name as well. Yeah, I know we’re supposed to be caught.
His walk is jaunty as he strolls across the lobby to join me at the elevators. “Room 436,” he says. He sounds smug, though there’s really no reason for it. The only sound on the short ride to the fourth floor is the ding of the elevator and his humming. He always does that on elevators, and it’s almost always the same tune. Every time I hear that fucking Muppet theme now, I get a chubby.
I don’t know how many times we’ve done this over the last year—meeting up, fucking, then going on about our business. It’s irregular, but lately it’s been a lot. Alex always calls me first.
I don’t bother looking around while he opens the room. I lost my tail, but isn’t the whole point of this thing to get caught? I should have been less careful.
Alex starts undressing as soon as the door shuts. “I wanna fuck you in the ass,” he sings, which he only knows because of that old Swedish commercial that everyone rediscovered. Those are the only words he knows, too.
I sigh, and remove my coat.
“Are you ready?” Alex asks, folding his pants.
“Yeah,” I respond. “This is getting really dangerous, you know what I'm saying?”
“Sweet.”
At some point one round became two, then two rounds became two with foreplay, sometimes three without. It’s no longer a surprise when Alex comes up behind me and starts kissing my neck. I can feel his erection poking at my lower back. We’ve never done it standing up, but I think our height differences wouldn’t serve us well if we tried. I finish unbuttoning my shirt while Alex unbuckles my pants. He nips at my neck and ear, unzipping my trousers to thrust his hand inside and cup my balls.
“Somebody’s eager,” I grumble. I sound like I don’t want it.
“Someone else is in a bad mood,” he replies smoothly, using his long fingers to coax me to full erection.
“I could have used that cigarette.” Dropping my shirt, I step away from Alex to shuck my pants and sit down on the bed. “I’m down to three per day, thanks to some nosy Russian bastard.”
“Do you have to go back to work after this?” Alex inquires.
I shake my head, watching him. He’s pale, and looks like he descended from some sort of ancient Arctic royalty. His hips are narrow and his body is slim. He’s built like a diver; just muscles running under skin, over bone. We don’t match.
“You’re giving me a weird look,” Alex says as he throws his briefs onto his neat clothes pile. “What’s up?”
I shrug. “Maybe nobody’s figured this—” I gesture between us, “out yet is because I don’t look like your type.”
Alex laughs, which makes his erection bounce. “You know nothing about gay culture, my friend. The gym is like a homo holy place.” He kneels between my thighs and runs his hand over my pecs. “All this is gay crack. It’s everyone’s type. I mean, I could stand to bulk up if I wanted to pull more hole. You’re a bite-sized muscle man with an amazing ass and a thick cock. Plus, your face really helps.”
“Huh,” I say, and that’s all I can manage before he goes down on me.
Alex is a genius at giving head now. His tongue never stops moving, whipping the underside of my shaft while his lips encase it, teasing the slit as he sucks on the head, teasing my balls when he takes them in his mouth. When he’s ready to make me cum, he starts bobbing up and down, faster and faster, and tugs my balls while he does it. Right when I can’t keep my hips still anymore Alex just works the tip, jacking my shaft with his free hand.
I think Alex likes it that I don’t warn him anymore, but that’s maybe because he can tell as well as I can when I’m going to shoot down his throat. I fall back on the bed and clutch the blankets, pushing my dick as far into Alex’s mouth as I can, shuddering with each spurt.
“Fuck,” I breathe hard. “Ah, fuck that’s good.”
“You came pretty fast,” he says, wiping his mouth. Alex grabs a condom and puts it on, watching me watch him.
“You got better,” I reply.
“That’s because I know what you like,” he retorts. “Lube up, Mario. My dick is Bowser and it’s coming for your Princess Peach.”
“Lame,” I retort, but I’m laughing anyway.
Round one is quick. I make sure my ass is slick and get on my hands and knees on the edge of the bed. Alex slides that long, slender cock into me, and then grabs my hips and starts pounding. He comes, I don’t, and then I clean up and flop into bed while he showers off. I don’t mind letting Alex get one nut out of the way. It still feels good. He’s just gearing up for the post-fuck post-nap fuck, the one that lasts longer and leaves me knobby-kneed and exhausted.
I lie there half-asleep, listening to him sing over the sound of the water and the patter of rain on the window. I know the song, I think, some rock ballad from the nineties. He has a nice voice.
That was the first thing I noticed when he first approached me. We met at a black tie event for some bigwig friend of both our families, maybe the birthday of an appropriately crooked politician. It was fancy enough to check your weapons and bodyguards at the door, so there was no one to stop him when he stood next to me.
“Do you have any idea why we’re here?” he asked in a mellow tone.
I glared at the glass of champagne in my hand. “None.” I wished it were a cigarette.
“You’re with the Fillipelli family, right?”
“Mario.” I looked over at him for the first time, noticing the fair skin, blue eyes, the wide mouth and light brown hair. “Ivanov. Alexander, isn’t it?”
“Alex.” His smile didn’t erase the boredom from his expression. “Our families are watching. Should we shake hands?”
I shrugged and offered mine. He hung onto it when I began to draw back.
“You in the mood to piss off your people?'' he asked suddenly.
I looked around quickly, and saw my grandfather, father, my uncles, and my cousins staring at us. I could guess which partygoers were related to Alex Ivanov by the daggers that were shooting at me from their eyes.
“Yes.”
“Awesome,” he said, and let go of my hand. “Then we are now best friends. Smile at me.”
I did.
“Let’s have coffee sometime.”
“Where?” I don’t know why that was the first thing out of my mouth.
“Café du Sud.”
I nodded. Haitian territory. Safe. “Wednesday at eleven.”
Alex clapped me on the back. We didn’t speak for the rest of the night, but fuck if I didn’t catch hell for talking to him. I pretended like I had no idea who Alex was. It was the most fun I’d had in years.
I wake up to the pressure of fingertips on my back. “What are you doing?” I mutter to the pillow. “What time is it?”
“Looking at your tattoos,” Alex responds. “You can go back to sleep. It’s barely two-thirty.”
He’s strange, but it is relaxing in the same way that it is to have someone play with your hair. His fingers run down the diamond that ends at the top of my ass, then trail slightly lower.
“Forget about it,” I say. “I will fart on your hand.”
Alex laughs. “I want to stamp my name right here,” he says, rubbing lightly.
“No one will ever get their name stamped on my ass, or anywhere on my body,” I reply.
“You’re running out of room,” he comments, tracing the muscles. “You’re going to have to start getting them here.”
I yawn. “Next one goes up the back of my neck.”
“Chickenshit,” Alex says. “If you’re going to be the one mafioso with tattoos, you gotta commit.”
I try to slap him, but I’m too sleepy. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“I’m fucking an idiot,” he rejoins. I snort. “Go back to sleep.” He ruffles my hair.
I do.
Originally, it wasn’t going to be like this. We were just going to make people suspicious, just for fun. That's what he said on the phone before we met, at least. It was Alex’s idea, and I set our pattern of behavior by agreeing to it. Or maybe Alex had recognized an impressionable kind of guy when he saw one. Either way, our first meeting ended with a blowjob.
There wasn’t much to say. We hadn’t made this appointment because of common interests except for pissing off our families. It meant sitting in each other’s presence with nothing to talk about. Alex tried, though.
“How many siblings?” he asked when we were waiting for our coffees.
“Six. But only my older sister, Juliana, and I are legitimate." After an awkward pause I added, "We call the other ones our cousins.”
The waitress brought our beverages before I realized I was being rude. “You?”
Alex held up four long fingers. “Legit. We don’t know about any others.”
“Right.” I stared at my coffee. I don’t know why I always ordered it black. I hated the stuff, but all the saints couldn’t help me if I were to start drinking tea. That would be like asking to be slapped around until I’d knocked up a girl and beaten up a few fags.
“Earth to Mario,” Alex called.
I shook my head. “Sorry. Zoned out for a second. You were saying?”
“I think we’re bored guys with rotten families,” he said with a bright smile, leaning back in his chair, “and we’re ready to piss them off.”
Downing half of my coffee with a gulp and grimace, I asked. “Are you next in line?”
“Nah,” Alex replied. “I have two older brothers. They’re both fuckups, though, so I’m pretty important in the grand scheme of things. The brains behind the brawn, if you will.”
I nodded. I vaguely recalled hearing that.
“Heir to the junkyard throne or no, I’m tired of being under my family’s thumb. I need an accomplice, though.” He pointed a finger at me. “They can’t do jack shit to you. Your cousins could disappear, right? And your family won’t do shit to me, either.”
There were plenty of ways to irritate my family—learn Spanish, say nice things about feminism, badmouth the pope, refuse to hire ex-cons at the dealership, talk to cops…
“What do we get out of this?” I asked.
Alex cocked his head. “Aren’t you bored? Plus, this way they can’t get rid of my boyfriend.”
That surprised me. “You have a boyfriend?”
Laughing, Alex replied, “I will soon enough.”
“You’re gay?” I couldn’t believe he got away with that.
“You’re straight?” he quipped.
“Last time I checked,” I replied, but then again I’d never really thought about it. Maybe there were other men in red-blooded Italian families who grew up ogling hairy asses in the baths, but not I. Sex was great, not because I loved women, but because it was warmer and wetter than jacking off. Wasn’t I straight? I fingered the handle of my coffee cup so I wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. “Is that why you’re asking me to do this instead of my sister or something?”
“Probably.”
“So you’re probably gay,” I said. “Who’s your boyfriend?”
Alex stretched his hand across the table. It honestly took me a few seconds to realize that he had inserted two fingers into my sleeve and was stroking the valley between the tendons of my wrist. It was a bold move, even on neutral ground, but I didn’t move in case he was intending to make me uncomfortable. Just because I’m not the biggest guy around doesn’t mean…
“You’re slow,” Alex said with a slight smile.
Finally I folded my arms, but there was something new and electric in the air. “Forget about it. What if I don’t want to fuck another guy, you know what I'm saying?”
“Then you can just hang out with me and play along for a couple of months, because we can still make them think about anything we want. We’ll make them suspicious and stop before it gets too dangerous,” Alex responded easily. “Fuck whoever you want on the side. Girls think gay guys are hot, anyway.”
He took a sip of his coffee, and I watched his lips to see if I was at all turned on.
“My family is still in the we’ll-pick-your-partner mode, which needs to stop,” he clarified. “When I was a kid, my family forced some poor folk out of my neighborhood because they found me playing doctor on their son. And this boy I got caught making out with in junior high. Plus, I may have gotten this stripper pregnant, but she ‘up and left for a job in Vegas’ one day.” He put air quotes around the last phrase. At least his hand wasn’t in my shirt anymore.
“Muscle or money?”
“Money. Someday I’m going to find that greedy bitch. She probably lied about birth control.”
“Huh.”
We didn’t talk for another five minutes. It would have been awkward if I had bothered to think about it. Alex mostly just sipped his coffee while I fingered the lighter in my jacket pocket. On my territory I could have smoked and damned the other patrons. Then Alex asked, “If you had gone to college, what would you have studied?”
“Sports medicine,” I said, startled to realize I was serious. I said it again to be sure. “Sports medicine.” He was looking at me, so I added, “You?”
He pushed his hand through his hair. “Sociology and anthropology. Our families would be perfect for a dissertation.”
“Old country conservative types are nothing new,” I said.
Alex threw me off by laughing. “I guarantee I could find something worth writing about.”
“Anthropology,” I said.
“And sports medicine,” he replied. “What happens if my dick is broken?”
I laughed. “Surgery.”
He grabbed my wrist suddenly, pulling me out of my seat. “Come take a look,” he said. I think he was laughing at me when I threw a twenty on the table. The cook in the kitchen gave us a weird look, like he was about to yell at us, but we were through too fast.
That dirty back alley looked no different than any other, I’m sure, but what I remember most is two firm hands on my shoulders, pushing me to my knees, then unzipping dark jeans to expose a half-hard uncut cock.
I suppose I was in shock. “I thought you’d be circumcised,” I said, just before one of those hands reached to the back of my head and the other pushed the cock to my lips.
“Orthodox,” he informed me. “Not that it means anything. My family’s no more Christian than Judas.”
I couldn’t respond around the cock in my mouth. There was cock in my mouth. I put my hand on his thigh. I had a cock in my mouth.
Alex tilted my head back. “You look confused,” he said, his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Need help?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Don’t think about anything,” he advised, and then pulled me back down by my hair.
My nose was cold despite the warmth of the summer. Every time I touched Alex with it, he shivered. I discovered that I could roll the foreskin back and forth with my lips, at least until the glans got too big. There was a large vein on the underside that wrapped around to the left.
“Suck on the tip,” Alex instructed.
I closed my lips over the top and sucked.
Alex ran his fingers through my hair. “That’s good,” he said, breathing heavily. “Play with my balls a little.”
The wrinkled pouch was covered with crinkly hair, but his legs and ass were smooth. Maybe I was a little gay, since I didn’t mind this.
“Try going up and down on me. Lips and tongue only.”
I did, keeping my hands on his thighs. Alex was guiding my head with his hands, but wasn’t putting much pressure on me. There was a cock in my mouth. What if someone wondered why two men had burst through the kitchen, and came out to check? They’d see me on my knees giving a blowjob. Nobody here knew who I was, but someone from my or Alex’s families had to be nearby. Could they see me? Was it obvious that I wasn’t being forced?
Alex interrupted my wild stampede of thought. “How do you like giving head? Not so bad?”
I shook my head, keeping my lips attached to his cock. It was amazing how something so hard could be so smooth. I knew what a cock felt like in my hand; every guy starts jacking off as soon as he learns about it. This time I could see it so closely, I could smell it, I could taste it, and I could hear the slick noises my lips made when I slid back and forth. Maybe it was that kind of overload that made the experience so—incredible.
Alex came without a sound, clutching my hair in fistfuls, his legs shaking. It was amazing, feeling his cock quiver on my tongue, pulsing as it shot bitter semen against the roof of my mouth.
Breathing hard, Alex ran his fingertips around my ear and said, “I want you to swallow it.”
I did. The texture was like swallowing snot, or maybe pudding. Should I have hated it?
Alex grinned. “I can tell you’re going to be good at this,” he said. “That was nice, for a beginner.”
For a guy who claimed heterosexuality about half an hour earlier, skills in smoking pole shouldn’t be a compliment. I wiped my mouth and stood.
“Are you hard?” Alex asked, brushing his fingers across my zipper. That made me uncomfortable.
“No,” I responded honestly.
“Oh.” He seemed surprised. “Okay, well, next time. I’ll owe you one.”
I should have known then what that meant. Still, when we met again and Alex took me to a hotel I was caught off guard.
I wake up again when Alex stirs. It’s getting dark outside and I want a cigarette. Careful not to disturb the man sleeping on my chest, I reach over the side of the bed. I fumble for the pack in my coat pocket, only to find a much larger box.
“What the hell?” I grumble, yanking it from the coat. It’s nicotine gum. Fucking hell. Alex must have replaced it before he fell asleep. My cigs will be crumpled up in the trash by now. Selfish asshole.
Alex sighs and squeezes my waist. I think he’s still asleep, but it’s time to go.
“Hey,” I say. I poke him in the cheek. “We need to leave.”
“Hm mm,” he disagrees, burying his nose into my chest. The sheet is draped partially over his buttocks, exposing half of the design that scrawls over them. Alex is exactly the type of guy to get a tattoo that covers both his ass cheeks. It barely avoids being a tramp stamp.
“Seriously, we need to get a move on,” I insist. “Ouch! Quit fucking biting me!”
Alex opens an eye and grins, removing his teeth from my nipple. “You like it.”
I do.
“You know, Mario,” he says, propping his chin on his fist. “Being around you is like trying to solve a Rubik’s cube. I get excited every time I figure something else out. It’s like ‘fuck yeah, I owned you, Rubik’s cube.’”
“Huh?”
“Well, you don’t talk much,” Alex explains, “so I have to figure out a way to pull everything out of you. At first I couldn’t even tell if you liked being around me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about you, either.”
I’d heard that before from frustrated women. In their eyes at first I’m mysterious, then I’m just quiet, and finally I’m unfeeling. My own parents thought I was special needs until I was in junior high school.
“But you’re not simple,” he continues, playing with my belly button. “I know that there are a lot of wheels turning behind those dark eyes. Even when we’re fucking, I can tell you’re thinking about shit, as though the act of being fucked is a philosophical journey into the dark heart of man.”
I turn my eyes to the ceiling and run my fingers through his hair. “You make me sound tortured or something.”
Alex sits up and straddles my waist. “Aren’t you, in a way? And I know you only play with my hair when you’re embarrassed.”
Well, he’s put his head too far out of reach for me to do that now. “Aren’t you fucking observant.”
“It’s because you’re fucking fascinating,” he replies, bending down to kiss me. “It’s a challenge, especially because the way you identified yourself has gotten knocked around ever since I got you to blow me in the alley.” Alex pats my cheek. “My goal is to know you better than you know yourself.”
I look at his pale blue eyes, tall slender nose, and upturned lips. He’s not saying something, I’m not sure what, probably because he thinks I don’t want to hear it. Alex once told me that he always took his toys apart when he was a kid. He wouldn’t try to reassemble; he just wanted to see how they worked. I’m the best toy he’s ever had, I bet. I just worry about the part where I don’t get put back together.
Alex chuckles. “There you go again. Except given that I’m sitting on top of you and you’re not at all excited, you’re probably thinking the wrong thing. I didn’t mean to sound so manipulative.”
If I’m not a toy to be dismantled, then…
“There’s the smile I wanted,” he says, pinching my cheek playfully.
“Shut up,” I roll my eyes.
“Aw, Mario’s shy. It’s so sweet!” He smacks me with a pillow. I sit up and wrestle him into a headlock.
“You’re a selfish, cocksure bastard,” I grunt, trying to maintain the hold without getting pinched or tickled.
“Which is,” Alex pants, shoving me off of him, “why,” he pauses to fend off the pillow I’m swinging at him, “you like me so much.”
“I never said I liked you.” I dive at him, tackling him around the middle.
Alex wraps his arms around my chest and tries to throw me off. “You said I was your type.”
“I didn’t,” I huff. I’m stronger than he is, but he has those lanky limbs.
“Okay,” he concedes right as I finally pin his legs down with mine. “But you said that you didn’t look like my type, thereby implying that I was yours.”
“Another row on the Rubik’s cube?” I ask, fighting off his grasp.
Instead of responding Alex goes limp so that I fall into him. Alex locks his arms around my back and waits until I stop struggling. We’re covered in sweat and fully erect.
“What,” Alex laughs softly, “were you thinking all this time that I was just using you? You should know a stupid excuse when you hear one.”
My face is smushed against his shoulder, so I don’t respond.
Suddenly Alex pulls my head up so that he’s looking into my eyes. “Stay the night,” he says. “We have the room. Stay here.”
Stay the night. It sounds easy. Alex says it earnestly, as though he truly believes that neither of us will suffer the consequences, as though no one will come looking, as though we’re lovers. Like we could order room service and fuck and answer to no one. He told me once that he chose me because the Ivanovs wouldn’t touch me. It had made sense at the time, but as my family got more and more suspicious I realized what they would to do me if they found out about Alex and me. Sometimes the waiting, the act of not saying anything, is torture. I want to be out with it, for the fighting and the disowning to be over and done. I couldn’t see these meet-and-fucks continuing after, though. Maybe that was why I had kept my trap shut.
“Mario,” Alex says, interrupting my train of thought, “tell me you’ll stay. It’s just one night.”
It’s a bad idea. It’s worse than meeting him for coffee. It’s worse than blowing him in an alley. It’s worse than getting fucked. It’s worse than starting to look forward to Alex’s phone calls. It’s worse than waiting to be found out, it’s worse than wanting to get all that shit over and done with.
I shake my head, still cradled in Alex’s hands. “I can’t.”
“Please.” Alex begs with such sincerity that I’m taken aback. “Just give me this one night.” He presses his forehead to mine. “Just once.”
This once could get me killed. It’s a bad idea. Fucking stupid.
I nod. “Just once.”
The second time we met up was the first time we fucked. It was pretty bad.
Alex had me on my back with my legs over his shoulders, working his fingers in and out.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Not anymore, but it feels really weird.”
“Like you gotta shit?”
I was a little taken aback, but I guess when you have anal sex there are new questions and problems. The only woman I’d ever assfucked had been a hooker at my cousin’s eighteenth birthday party. That woman had known how to take it, and so all I had needed to worry about was a condom.
“Kind of.”
Alex bent his brown head and withdrew his fingers. I held on to the backs of my knees while he pulled at my ass with his thumbs.
“You have a tiny hole,” he said, as though it was my fault.
I put my head down on the pillow. “If yours is bigger I can fuck you instead, fucking commie.” I didn’t mean it.
Alex snorted, then grabbed the condom packet. “Turn over. I figure if you can take three fingers, you can handle me.”
Rolling over, I wondered again at how good I was at going along with him. “Why do you want to do this again?” I asked. “Why did I let you talk me into this?”
Alex parted my ass cheeks with his hands. “Pure experimentation, m’boy,” he replied cheerfully, running his covered cock over my hole. “If I’m going to piss off my family, might as well make something out of it. Hey, don’t forget to breathe.”
I didn’t respond, firstly because that seemed like kind of a weak explanation, secondly because “breathe” was shitty advice, and thirdly because there was a dick trying to make its way up my ass for the first time in my life.
“Fuck,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Push out,” Alex suggested.
“Hang on,” I begged. I kept thinking, exit, not an entrance, but I breathed deeply and tried to relax. “Okay.”
Alex went slowly, though I’m not entirely sure whether it was because he was being considerate or if it was because I had trouble letting him in. It was a fucking slow, agonizing process. I cursed into the pillow the whole time, but for some stupid reason I was determined not to quit halfway.
“How’s that?” Alex asked when he was all the way in. It felt like everything from the chest down was trying to reject him. It should have been obvious proof that my body was not built to take dick.
“Ah, uh,” I was finding it hard to form a proper sentence, “you can keep going. Just don’t pull—” a spasm of pain wracked through my guts, “oh, fuck, just don’t pull the head out.” I resumed my stream of quiet curses.
Alex obliged and was trying to take it slow, I guess. However, the man was looking to bust a nut, he had his dick in a warm, tight hole, and I wasn’t telling him to get the fuck off. He sped up too soon for my taste, and we probably should have used a lot more lube. My ass ring was on fire. Nothing felt torn, but even after I got used to it there was nothing but pain.
Alex pulled out when he was finished and flopped beside me for a minute. “God, that was weird,” he said.
I didn’t realize that I had been clenching my jaw until I started laughing.
“What?” he asked.
I wiped my eyes. “You just fucked a ‘tiny hole’ to a happy ending. And it was weird?”
Alex got up and went to the bathroom. I wondered if I had offended him, but didn’t say anything. How would I ever sit down again?
The bed dipped between my legs. I felt Alex pull one of my ass cheeks, then a cool washcloth on the place that needed it most. That felt strange. Nice?
“It was weird because it felt good, but I know it sucked for you,” he explained. “Sorry about that, man.”
Maybe it was because I hadn’t had anyone wipe my ass since I was in diapers. Maybe it was because I was in a strange mood that month. Or, maybe my mouth was possessed. My brain wasn’t working but my damn cake hole opened and replied, “Forget about it. The first time always hurts, I read. I’ll get used to it.”
“Good,” Alex said.
That was how it didn’t end.
Alex has a nipple fetish, I swear. He’s lying on top of me licking one and gently brushing the other with his fingertips. When he’s teased one nipple to a point Alex lifts his head to blow cool air over it. Then he switches. I don’t stop him because even though it’s kind of strange, it feels really good.
I should be used to it by now I guess, but I still don’t know what to do with my hands. Do I try to return the favor? If I wanted to jack him off we’d have to change positions. I think Alex just really likes being close to other people. He said one time that his family doesn’t touch each other, especially in public because they’re so sensitive about being thought of as gay in America. That’s probably why whenever it’s just the two of us he barely lets me piss by myself. I guess he just wants skinship, or whatever. So I put my hand on his arm, stroking the curve of his bicep with my thumb. His eyes flick up to meet mine and he smiles a little. Wrestling, fucking, or just sleeping in the same bed, Alex likes to touch and be touched.
“Mario,” he says, scraping my collarbone with his teeth.
“Hm.”
“Are you happy when you’re with me?” Alex lips his way up my neck.
Is it not obvious? “Mm hm.” Now that I think about it, it might be the only time that I'm happy.
With a nip at my chin he asks, “Ready for round two?”
Rather than answer him I grab Alex’s shoulders and flip us over. He grabs my ass and kneads it while I lean over to fish another condom from his wallet. We don’t need lube this time; I’m still wet from round one. I slide the rubber on Alex’s cock and ease my way onto it.
Alex grins. “You don’t know how fucking sexy it is to watch you do that,” he says.
I smile, because even if it’s because I’m squatting awkwardly, over a dick, getting told I’m sexy is nice. Every inch, every millimeter of cock sliding into me sends fire throughout my body. Alex and I both exhale when I sink all the way down. It’s just as much because the physical feeling as it is a sense of completeness, I think. I can’t believe it hurt so bad the first time. I’m damn glad we didn’t give up after the one try. Whatever screw that had been loose enough to make me say, Yeah, I’m not really into guys, but I’ll let you fuck me, it has completely fallen out now.
Leaning back between Alex’s knees, I start sliding up and down his hard length. He puts one arm behind his head, languid, and uses his free hand to tease my shaft and balls. I exhale between clenched teeth, and the accompanying sound makes Alex laugh.
“How many n’s and f’s would you use to spell that?” he teases.
I know I’m noisy in bed, so I let him get away with it. “Jack me slower,” I order instead. “We’re not in a rush anymore.”
Alex tugs on my balls so that my legs shake. “Aye aye, captain,” he says jokingly. “We got all night.”
My sister was the first to really say anything. We were in a Chinese restaurant in Southtown, my family’s turf but barely. It was reckless, but maybe I was tired of trying to lose a tail or three every time I left the house.
Juliana showed up with the crab rangoon.
“I only ordered one of these,” I told the waiter. He gave me a smile like I was mildly insane and to be treated gently. I called after him, “What, you don’t like comedy?”
My sister looked us up and down. “Mario, you had best watch your ass. Everyone’s talking already. The family sure as shit won’t like this.” She gestured between Alex and me.
I was about to respond but Alex spoke first. “They won’t like Chinese food?” he looked confused, as though completely unaware of who I really was. It would have sounded fake coming from anyone else. “You’re free to join us if you like.”
“No fucking thank you,” Juliana snapped. “I know who you are, Alexander Ivanov. You show your face in this area again and I’ll make sure your ass gets beaten into fucking ground beef.” She pointed a shiny, pointed nail in my direction, hissing. “Stay the fuck away from my little brother, for both of your goddamn sakes.”
“But I just like him oh so much,” Alex protested with a subtle wink at me. “How can I stay away?”
I put my hands in my lap, just in case he tried anything. “Jules, I can take care of myself.”
“You say this now, baby queer balls, but if you go all fucking ‘friend of Dorothy’ and the family finds out, they will fucking kill you.” Juliana stormed out of the shop.
“Your sister’s a cunt,” Alex commented as he flipped her off through the window.
She was glaring at us from her car.
Leaning over the table, I hit him hard enough to split his lip. Then I handed him my glass of ice when Juliana drove off. “Sorry. Yeah, she is. But she cares about me.”
Alex put the cold glass to his mouth and winced. “I can see that. Why isn’t she inheriting?”
“I dunno. The patriarchy, I guess? My grandfather tried to send her to finishing school.” I watched him dab at his lip with his fingers then inspect the blood he found there.
Alex raised his eyebrows. “Those still exist?”
“Only for rich white assholes.”
He chuckled. “Bet she threw a fit.”
“Better. She got knocked up.”
“Are you an uncle?”
“Roman Catholic to the core, in principle.” I nodded. “Three times over, now. Her husband’s dumber than a sack of rocks, but he loves her.”
“You want kids?” Alex asked. I shouldn’t have been startled seeing as how he was always bringing shit up out of the blue, but he sounded so damn serious. Maybe it was because some stripper in Vegas may or may not have had his kid.
I shrugged. "I like messing around with Juliana's kids, but I like giving them back." I couldn’t see myself being a good dad.
“I want kids,” Alex said firmly. “I want to be a foster parent. There are a ton of kids who need good role models. Even if I end up with another dude, we can still raise children without adopting.”
“Somebody has to teach them how to get other people in trouble, I guess.” I fiddled with my cutlery for a moment, watching Alex nurse the split lip I gave him because of Juliana.
Alex looked over at me. “What? Why are you smiling so big?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head.
“Really?”
“No, um, just.” I tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help it. “If I go all ‘friend of Dorothy?’ What the hell does that even mean?”
Alex chuckled. “That’s like a term from the fifties or something,” he explained. “How a lot of gay guys like Judy Garland and musicals and shit.”
“Huh.”
How did Juliana even know that phrase? I’ll bet that once she suspected anything she started doing research. Or maybe she has a secret group of queer friends who think she’s the most fabulous mafia princess in the world. My favorite foulmouthed sister.
“You’re not giving Broadway queen, if you’re worried about your family,” Alex said, gesturing at me.
“Nah, I don’t care,” I said. “Isn’t that the point of all this?”
Alex dropped his gaze. “Just don’t do anything too stupid. I need you alive,” he muttered.
“Hey, what’s your favorite movie?” Alex asks.
My tone is incredulous. “What?”
“What’s your favorite movie? Alex repeats. His soft hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat.
I’m on my back with a pillow under my ass and my legs on Alex’s shoulders. Indicating the spot where our bodies join, I grunt out, “You ask as though it’s normal to conversate while fucking.”
“You mean 'converse,'” Alex corrects me, thrusting extra hard like that proves his point. He bites my calves, leaving red indentations in the muscle, using my thighs to anchor me on the bed while he fucks me.
Fuck yes.
“It’s, oh fuck, it’s Pulp Fiction,” I pant, holding on to his hips. It feels like his cock is going to come out of my chest. “Why the fuck are you asking that?”
“I don’t know,” Alex responds, smiling crookedly. “I never asked you before. Why do you like Pulp Fiction? No, wait, let me guess.”
“Think about it while you move your ass,” I say urgently. Our bodies are slick and shiny with perspiration; I have no idea what time it is now, only that everything smells like sex, tastes like sex. I’m getting close, which usually means that Alex is, too. Where does he find enough energy to form thoughts about favorite movies?
Snapping his fingers, Alex’s face brightens. “You relate to it,” he says, rolling his hips. “The disjointed sense of time, the Mexican standoff, the feeling of nothing going completely right, no one in there is blameless—that’s what your life is.”
“Alex.”
He looks down at me.
I point to my cock. “I’m getting really close. Can you fucking analyze me later?”
“Sì, signore,” he says with a cheeky grin, and moves his hips.
The second time Alex fucked me was better, but still not great. The third was better. For some reason it wasn’t until the fourth time around that I started to get worried about my sexuality. Maybe it wasn’t worry, just an afterthought of, Have I been into guys this whole time?
Alex was lying on top of me, rubbing his erection against mine. We were still mostly clothed, though he had unbuttoned both of our shirts and I was missing a sock. Alex was kissing me, but it wasn't the usual wet, mutual masturbation liplock that involved using tongues like penises or dueling swords. Instead he was kissing my neck, my eyes, my cheeks, and my collarbone, trailing his tongue from my collarbone up to my lips to start over again.
“What are you doing?” I asked when Alex’s lips reached my shoulder yet again.
“I got tired of talking enough for the both of us, so I’m resting my mouth on your face,” he replied sarcastically. “Keep stroking my back. I like that.”
I hadn’t realized I was stroking anything, but I kept my hands moving slowly up and down his torso, feeling the muscle underneath his shirt.
Alex pinched my nipple gently and I sighed. He chuckled.
“You’re cute,” he said.
This is nice, I thought. I could do this for a while. Just lying here, unhurried, with a solid body on top of mine. I was relaxed, content, and for once wasn’t wondering about Alex’s master plan to piss off our families. I was with him and he was with me. That was all. And I really, really liked it.
“Hey, Mario,” Alex whispered in my ear.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for doing this.” He said it as though I’d just given his car a jump.
I slid a hand into his hair, intoxicated by the feel of teeth on my ear and the wet sound of his tongue. “It doesn’t suck,” I said.
“So we can keep going?” Alex asked, nipping down my jawline.
“Mm, I won’t stop if you don’t,” I said, and then immediately realized what I had really meant. Oh, shit, I thought. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
I wake before Alex does. The rain stopped sometime last night and the morning light is orange and soft. Alex is drooling on my chest. He started holding on to me in his sleep maybe two months ago. We’d take power naps between fucks, or after a shower; at first I chalked his position up to his intense need to be touched. He always puts an ear over my heart, wraps one arm around my waist, and throws a leg over both of mine like he’s keeping me from going anywhere. I pinch a lock of his light brown hair, rolling the strands between my fingers. It’s lonely to imagine a day when I don’t get to do this.
Alex grunts in his sleep and I pull him closer. Although he had to at least be attracted to me, I was never sure if he thought I was too boring and silent. After last night, though, I don’t feel like an idiot for being grateful that Alex chose me over, say, one of the Triad princes by process of elimination.
“What time is it?” Alex asks in a gravelly voice.
“Seven-thirty,” I answer with a glance at the bedside clock. “You drooled on me.”
Alex raises his head and blinks blearily at my chest. “Why, so I did.” He rubs his saliva off with his hand.
“We do have time for a quickie,” I tell him.
Grinning, Alex rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Didn’t get enough last night?”
“Don’t ask dumb questions.”
Alex watches as I rifle through all the shit we knocked off the bed yesterday. There’s the nicotine gum, which is handy because I’m dying for a cig and also my breath is terrible. There’s the lube, there are the condoms. There’s my phone—shit, that’s a lot of notifications. I didn’t think about what would happen if I didn’t return to my apartment after all my evasive maneuvers. The potential of a night with Alex distracted me, I guess.
Cousin, cousin, Juliana, cousin, Pop, uncle, Pop a couple more times, Juliana warning DON’T COME HOME!!! and then a shitload more from the rest of the family. That’s not counting the voicemails, including two from my mother.
Adrenaline washes cold down my spine.
I'd gotten so cocky—hadn't I just been thinking not that long ago that waiting to be discovered was the real torture? I feel like the dog who caught the car. So this is it. I’ll be sent away. Or worse, kept here under constant watch, have to move back to the house, and get married off to some poor woman. Either way, no more Alex.
“You okay?” Alex asks. His beadhead is fucking cute, sticking up every which way like he stuck his finger in a socket.
I plug it in but flip it so I can’t see the screen. “Yeah. Forget about it.” Tossing Alex the rubber, I slick myself up and climb on top of him.
“Alright, then,” he says, pleasantly surprised. I like this version of Alex, heavy-lidded and still half asleep. He lets me stroke him until he’s hard, roll on that condom, and then work my way onto his cock at my own pace. “That’s really nice,” he says softly, running one hand up my thigh.
“Gee, thanks, mister,” I grunt right as he bottoms out. Fuck, but he’s long. Maybe I should have prepped myself better, but I'm in too much of a rush. One for the road. One for goodbye.
Now with both hands running over my legs, Alex reassures me, “I mean it, Mario. There’s nothing like being inside you.”
Stupid man. The version of me who he met a year ago wouldn’t be so goddamn happy to hear that my bowels were a comfy home for cock. We spent too much time together. Liked each other too much. Alex has been too focused on my, like, pleasure or whatever. He’s selfish everywhere but in bed. God damn him.
“Come here,” Alex requests, reaching for me. I let him pull me to the bed and turn so that I’m flat on my chest while Alex mounts me from behind. My toes curl in sync with his monster invading my body.
“Fuck. Fuck.”
Alex leans over to chuckle in my ear. “You like that, huh?”
I respond by grabbing his hair, holding him in place.
Alex rolls his hips slowly. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you exactly what you want,” he whispers in my ear, kissing my neck as he starts rolling his hips.
Fuck, he’s hitting exactly over my good spot. I arch my back for him, feeling desperate. This is it. This might be the last dicking I ever get from this man, so I’m getting what I fucking want.
Alex frees his head from my grasp, kissing my palm before lacing our fingers together. His other hand wraps around the top of my head, holding me in place so he can grind his big cock in me.
“That’s so goddamn good,” I groan into the bedsheets. Alex replies with a deep-throated growl and a faster pace. My dick is rock hard and rubbing between my abs and the mattress. I wouldn’t have thought that it would get me close, but with Alex inside me it’s like getting stroked all the way through my body.
Licking the perspiration from my temple, Alex whispers, “Mario, you’re so hot inside.”
I’m burning up; every thrust jiggles my brain. I’m so fucking ready to come for him.
“I could be in you forever.”
If I ignore the buzzing of my phone, I can pretend it will last forever. Nothing in the world except Alex’s body on mine, inside me, filling me, overtaking every sense. His breath in my ear, his teeth on my ear, his skin under my tongue. Always. Neverending. Just Alex.
“Yes, that’s it,” I say at one point. Something I would have kept to myself any other day, but if this is going to be the last one, I might as well enjoy myself.
“Oh my god, you’re so fucking sexy right now,” Alex pants, pummeling my prostrate. “You're gonna make me come.”
“Come in me,” I tell him urgently. “Gimme that fucking cum.”
Alex planks over me, dropping his hips so that his cock slams the air from my lungs. I love it. I fucking love it.
“Yes, yes, pound me,” I grunt. “Fucking do it.”
“Fuck, Mario.”
I can’t hold on anymore. I cry out that I’m coming, shoving my hand underneath me to finish the job. Thick cum spills into my fingers, adding to the sticky mess we’ve created.
“Yes!” Alex shouts as he slams his cock into me. “Take it, baby! Ughn!”
With a couple furious thrusts, Alex comes; I imagine I can feel that cum shooting deep inside me. His arms start to shake and he flops onto the bed, pressing kisses to my open mouth every now and then.
I watch his furrowed brow as he catches his breath. I’m going to miss this face, I’ll bet.
The only date Alex and I ever had was going to a concert, about two months after we started hanging out. He probably didn’t think it was a date, and I only thought about it afterwards, but we did all the date stuff. I left a cookout and told my cousins not to come along. We were both freshly showered; I was wearing cologne. Alex and I grabbed some food near the venue, and then strolled over to watch the band, him yapping the whole way while I smoked.
The place was packed; the bandleader was a local who had gotten kinda big. I didn’t know his music, but one of Alex’s brothers had gone to school with him. At the time I was thinking more about how close Alex and I were standing in public. The crowded room was a good excuse to let our arms touch.
Just into the second half of the concert, Alex bent toward me. “I think your family found you,” he shouted over the music. I looked up at him and he jerked his head at the entrance.
I followed his gaze to see two of my cousins at the door, squinting into the dim room. I held up a middle finger so they could find me easier. Alex laughed.
“Why do I never see your fucking family?” I asked Alex sourly, half watching one cousin elbow the other as he spotted me.
He shrugged, swigging his beer. “I gotta be more suspicious, I guess.”
“You can either meet more of my family right now, or we can get outta here,” I told him as quietly as I could. My cousins were about halfway through the crowd. Pop probably sent them after me, because they look annoyed.
“Let’s give them something to chase,” Alex replied, a big grin on his handsome face. He pulled me out a side door with a smokers patio. We hopped the short fence before the bouncer could yell at us, and jogged down the street until we found an easy place to duck into. It was a sports bar, and I didn’t give a shit about the hockey everyone’s watching, but I had so much fun acting like a Looney Tunes character for the last ten minutes that my skin was buzzing. I tugged Alex into a corner where we could keep an eye on the door.
Alex looked down at me, and I looked up at him, and we laughed. Genuinely dumb fun.
“You know, Mario,” Alex said, “If you’re still wanting to, you know, fulfill the mission here, we should brace ourselves to run a lot.”
The adrenaline in my veins was giving me a weird energy, because what I said out loud was. “You want to go fucking scurrying around like a rat instead of getting your dick wet? Forget about it.”
Alex’s eyebrows raised, and he gave me this slow, smiley nod. “It’s like that, huh?”
We started hooking up more after that.
“Drop me off,” I say.
Alex looks at me. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He looks like he’s about to say something in protest, so I add, “Just do it, okay?”
Alex gives me a funny look. “You don’t think they’ve found out yet?”
“I'll find out.”
He drives me home in silence. I stare out the window, trying not to think about much. Alex turns to me when he pulls up in front of my house, but I get out of the car. As usual, there are four or five people sitting on the porch. I walk around to Alex’s side and tap of the window.
He rolls it down with, “Mario, don’t do something stupid.”
Is he shitting me? “We’re already doing something stupid.” I lean in and kiss him, not briefly, then cross the street and hop up the steps. One of my cousins stands up. I walk past him into the house.
“You gay, Mario?” he asks loudly, following me down the hall.
I shrug.
An uncle pops his head around the corner. “Was that one of the Ivanov shits?”
My body tingles in a way that tells me we’re about to start fighting. “His name is Alex.”
I’m pretty sure I hear another cousin mutter, “I told you so.” Now I know who was watching me.
My father shows up, bristling menacingly from over my uncle’s shoulder. I don’t have to turn around to know that I’m surrounded. There’s no backing out now. “What the fuck are you doing with that asshole?” Pop asks.
I stare him right in the face. “He’s fucking me.”
Pop must have expected that answer, because no sooner had I gotten the words out than he breaks my nose. Like sharks, at the first drop of blood on the wood floor my family sets in on me.
Alex was damn proud of himself when he got me to come with him. To give him some credit, he had been working at it for a while. Every time he fucked me he’d ask all these questions about angles and sensations, and he’d try different things to stimulate me. It was weird. Things like licking my armpits, or playing with my feet, or spanking me. It was as though he’d determined that I had a yet-unknown fetish. Maybe my fetish was just getting a real dick shoved up my ass. Or maybe my fetish was him.
Still, that day there was something a little different. It was partly the way his cockhead hit my prostate. Maybe being on my back put me more at ease. Maybe I liked watching Alex’s hand on my pole, seeing his thumb come up to cover the head on the upstroke. Whatever it was, I watched all of his muscles tighten right when I began to come. He clenched his teeth and groaned, a bass to my frantic, “Oh, shit, oh, fuck, don’t stop, fuck, fuck!”
That moment during climax when everything just turns into protons and neutrons and white noise, I looked into Alex’s eyes and felt my heart pounding. It beat. I came. It beat. Alex shook. My heart beat. And Alex was there with me, inside me, over me.
Then he collapsed on top of me, his exhausted breathing loud in my ear. “Oh my fucking god,” he puffed. “I feel like I just graduated from the school of mediocre sex partners.”
I chuckled and wrapped my arms around him, holding him gently. “You are officially the best fuck I’ve ever had,” I said.
“Really?” Alex turned his head to look at me.
“Really.”
“Really really?”
I smiled at him. My chest was filled with light, and I was almost too overwhelmed with all the things I couldn’t put into words to speak. “You fucking kidding me? Forget about it.”
Alex tried to plant a kiss on my lips, but we were still breathing too hard. We ended up giving each other a raspberry, which cause us both to burst into laughter. Oh, no, I thought as I watched Alex flop onto his back, chortling. I’m fucking falling in love with him.
“You filthy fucking cocksucker,” my father yells, swinging wildly at my torso.
I think I might be crying, but it’s like every new blow has to cut through the storm of pain that thunders already through my body. I struggle to my feet again. It’s getting harder to do. I spit blood on the floor and raise my arms in time to fend off one blow before Pop knocks me down again.
“You like getting fucked?” my cousin asks, “like getting a cock fucking shoved up your ass like a bitch? Fucking faggot.” He points the toe of his boot at my kidney and kicks.
I think some of my teeth are loose, and I briefly wonder what I would look like if most of my teeth were punched out. I’d probably give amazing head, at least. Just before I black out Juliana screams, and then something cracks like a melon.
The first thing I hear is sniffling.
“Mario, Mario, Mario,” my sister blubbers, “you goddamn fucking idiot shithead stupid dumbass.”
I try to say, “That’s not very nice,” but my throat releases a weird choked sound. Fingers grasp my arm, which hurts, so I whine.
“Oh my god, Mario!” Juliana squeals, sounding delighted. I hear footsteps and a door being slid open. “He’s awake!” she calls to someone. I hope she’s talking to Alex. I hope he’s the one waiting in the hall.
“Don’t try to talk,” comes his smooth voice. “There’s a tube down your throat.”
He’s on the other side. I wish I could see him, but there’s something over my eyes. I can’t open them. I try to reach up and take it off, but Alex’s warm hand stops me.
“You have a shit ton of stitches,” he warns. “Don’t mess with anything until the doctor comes.”
I squeeze his hand.
“You’ve been out for three days, Mario,” he says hoarsely. “One of your broken ribs punctured a lung. You might have brain damage. We were so fucking worried about you.”
All I can do is squeeze, so I do.
Alex’s other hand covers our interlocked fingers. “I’m so sorry; I never should have dragged you into this, it was a fucking stupid idea in the first place.”
Come to think of it, yeah, it had been an incredibly stupid plan. Pretend to date a man just to piss off the family, then take great pains to avoid getting found out by the family, and then fall so hard for the guy that as soon as he tells me he likes me more than I thought, I'm ready to get my skull hammered in?
Alex is gonna have to keep thinking it’s his fault for a little bit, because a crew of medical professionals shows up right after and Juliana is bossing everyone around.
My eyes get unwrapped so they can check my vision, then the right side is re-dressed because I still can’t open it. Left eye is fine. Juliana and Alex both look like shit, which is comforting. My sister cares about me, I know, but I wouldn’t have thought she’d be by my sickbed.
She calls on all her don’s daughter energy. “When can he eat by himself?” she demands as the doctor tries to talk to me. “When are the screws coming out? Does he still need more surgery if he can see? When will he start physical therapy?”
I can’t even follow, and I try to shake my head to show her, but that just hurts. Alex notices and—I guess the two of them bonded over my unconscious body—touches her shoulder.
“Maybe we let him rest?” he suggests.
Juliana would have bitten anyone else’s head off for getting in her way, but she looks at my face and nods at Alex.
“You probably won’t remember much of this,” she says to me. Which is, I’m pretty sure, exactly what the nurse was trying to tell her half a second ago, but it’s still nice to have my sibling in my corner.
They let me pass out a minute later.
I think they took out the tube while I was knocked out, because when I wake up my throat burns. I cough and cough, and it’s fucking disorienting to be hacking up a lung when I still can’t see out of one eye.
Alex appears in my peripheral vision with a glass of water and a straw. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says soothingly, pressing the straw to my lips. “Juliana had to go home for the night, so I’m on duty,” he informs me. “She’s bringing her kids by tomorrow. They made you cards.”
I want to nod, but the neck brace prevents it. “Cool,” I say around the straw.
He sits down, looking scruffy. “Are you okay?”
“I’m pretty fucking far from okay,” I say weakly. Alex smiles and pats my arm, and just then the nurse comes in.
“Uh, hey,” Alex says awkwardly. “About your apartment.”
I wave a hand wearily and try to smile at the nurse changing out the morphine drip in my arm. “There wasn’t any sh-crap in there that I cared about.”
The nurse winks at me. “You can say shit, Mr. Fillipelli,” she says brightly. “Now, if you start feeling nauseous or like your nose is itching, that’s normal. Let me know if you have trouble going to the bathroom, okay? Hit the button only if your pain level reaches an eight within an hour.”
“Yep.”
She leaves on cheerfully squeaky shoes.
I look at Alex. Seeing with only one eye is giving me a headache on top of my headache. “If I can’t go to my home, I’m coming to yours,” I inform him, trying to sound teasing. “Start cleaning now.”
The corners of his mouth twitch upward, but the worried expression remains in place. “You’ll be in here for a while,” he says gently. “Juliana said you took an aluminum bat to the skull.”
The Louisville Slugger that Pop keeps by the door, I bet.
“I have plate?” I manage to ask. “Shit, that’s the morphine. Do I have a plate in my head?” My grandfather had one after a bad encounter with a landmine, back when he was an army private. My nonna told me that’s why he “went strange” every now and then.
“No, but it’s a miracle you don’t.” He tries to smile again, but his face falls. “It’s a miracle you’re alive.”
My heart squeezes. We both knew this was a possibility. Sure, if I were smarter, then maybe I could’ve figured out how to get away from my family without getting jumped. But now look at this big Russian bastard, handsome as shit, trying not to sob like a baby over me.
"I figured out why I like you," I croak.
Alex squeezes my hand. "Why's that?"
"I think," I rasp, struggling to form thoughts around the haze of painkillers, "you make me come alive."
Alex laughs a little. “You’re cute when you’re all drugged up,” he says, but his thumb strokes the back of my wrist.
“No, I’m serious,” I insist. “I used to not give a shit about myself or anyone. If I’d given a thought to my own safety I would have stayed the fuck away from you.”
“Mario—”
“Shut up while I’m still awake,” I interrupt. My tongue feels like a weight in my mouth. “I got beat up by my own goffam, shit, goddamn family, and I don’t give a fuck. When I’m with you, it’s like everything could go to shit, like it could all end, and I don’t care. And now everything has gone to shit, and I’m just glad that you’re here, and safe, and…uh…holy fuck this morphine is fucking me up.”
“Yeah, it restricted your vocabulary to ‘shit’ and ‘fuck.’” There’s something hot and wet on Alex’s cheek when he presses my palm against it.
“Are you crying, you big queer?” I mumble, trying not to laugh. It hurts my ribs. And my mouth. And my throat. And my head.
“Yes, asshole,” he says and presses a kiss to my hand.
“But does that make sense?” I ask. “I mean it. I think I figured you out, or us out. Why any of this worked in the first place.”
“Because you make me come alive,” Alex says.
“No, it’s the opposite. You heard it wrong,” I protest. A spasm of pain shoots through my chest and I clutch Alex’s strong hand desperately. “I’m fucking trying to tell you that I love you, and you’re not listening.”
"I'm listening," he insists, and even though it hurts to feel his lips on mine I'm glad he kisses me. “I love you, too."
"I figured that out when you started crying. Commie fairy."
“Shut up, fudge packer.” He kisses me again. “Wanna move away and get married?”
“Right after I collect those get well cards, yeah. Let's fucking do it.” My ribs and skull throb through the morphine fog, and I can’t keep a pained gasp from my lips.
“Press that fucking button, Mario.”
“No, it’s working, it’s working. I’mma fall sleep soon.” I marshal all my available brain power to make a final demand before I lose consciousness. “Sing to me, okay?”
Even wobbly with tears, Alex has a really nice voice.
