In It For Life
2.
Weeks went by while waiting for a sign from Morgan. He didn't think he would get one from Mouse, not directly, but he had waited for so long, and it wasn't like he couldn't wait a little more. In the meantime, he became hooked on the news, chasing any information he could on Karl. There was so little of it, even now that his dad had allowed the public to get to know him.
The bride to be came from an old family, one that stood for everything that counted: money, tradition, power. Unlike Karl, she was a frequent presence in magazines and whatnot. She was the perfect socialite, within the boundaries set by her family, of course.
And she had teeth. Francesco was trying hard not to be mean, but he couldn't stop noticing how she was always smiling so widely that all her teeth seemed to be showing. Was she beautiful? He couldn't tell. She was sparkling, dazzling, in her perfectly cut clothes; not a single hair on her head moved without prior allowance.
And she would be Karl's wifey. He wasn't jealous, he tried to tell himself a thousand times. He could bet that she wouldn't get the same treatment from Karl as he had gotten while stuck on that island. No, he would treat her right or daddy would get mad.
He groaned; it was so hard to stifle his thoughts. They were running away with him these days. Balancing the bag of groceries on one arm, he walked down the landing while trying to reach for his keys.
"I heard you've been looking for me," a raspy voice said, making him stop dead in his tracks.
The bag slid from his arms with a thump, and a couple of apples rolled on the floor, but Francesco didn't care. Right there, bigger than life, was Mouse. Taller, a bit bigger everywhere, tanned, and dressed in military fatigues which he filled out nicely.
"Are you..." he choked. Real. That was what he wanted to ask, but forgot how to talk and just rushed into his lover's arms.
Mouse squeezed him tightly and held him close, lifting him off the floor. He smelled like the sun. Neither said anything for a while. It could have been seconds, or minutes. Francesco didn't care.
"Come inside," he said and took Mouse's hand to drag him along.
Francesco couldn't stop looking at him, afraid that he might disappear if he took his eyes away. Mouse laughed and pulled his hand free, then crouched next to the groceries spread on the ground and picked them up. "I'm quite hungry," he said and looked up at Francesco from under his military cap.
Those eyes, how long had he been dreaming of seeing them again? Francesco looked away only so that he could manage to slide the key in the lock, which he seemed to have forgotten how to do.
His place wasn't much, but it was clean, and Francesco liked to think that it was cozy, too. He took the bag from Mouse's arms and put it on the kitchen table.
Then he turned to face the other and didn't protest at all as Mouse pressed him against the table and kissed him hard.
"Weren't you hungry?" Francesco asked.
"Of you," Mouse replied.
His skin was all goosebumps with desire. Mouse dragged him to the floor and pushed his t-shirt up. Francesco bit back a moan when hard lips landed on his nipples, sucking at them. The walls were a bit thin, and he didn't want to scandalize the neighbors. At least, not yet.
He did his best to get Mouse out of his clothes, too, and laughed when the dog tags took a swing and hit him in the face. So many questions he had, but they could wait. Mouse was in charge. He was now a man, a real grownup, and Francesco whimpered as his legs were spread wide and impatient fingers probed his asshole.
"Do you think we can spare a moment to grab the lube?" he asked.
The green eyes twinkled with mischief at him. Francesco gasped as his ass was pushed upward and Mouse began eating it like there was nothing tastier in the universe. Time and time again, his eyes were flicking at him, loaded with the same desire. Francesco was afraid he would come from getting rimmed alone. Mouse pushed his ass cheeks apart and licked harder and deeper.
"Fuck," Francesco moaned.
Mouse didn't mind making a meal out of it, and his tongue began to inch closer to Francesco's balls, giving them lavish licks.
"Are you going to make me cum without properly fucking me?"
Mouse chuckled. Even that was a bit different from before, a bit deeper, manlier, and it made Francesco feel his asshole twitch in anticipation of having this man fuck him into the kitchen floor.
"Can't have that," Mouse replied and smirked. "I'll fuck you properly. Don't you worry about that."
Next thing Francesco knew, Mouse was grabbing his cock, stuffing his mouth with it. He was the best at that. Karl was surely the guy who knew how to fuck Francesco until he spoke in tongues, but Mouse had a mouth on him.
Francesco breathed harder and deeper. "They should call you Mouth, not Mouse," he said through his groans of pleasure, as his lover worked his shaft with gusto.
"They do," Mouse said after he pulled Francesco's cock from his mouth for a moment with an obscene pop.
"What? Who?" Francesco hadn't really expected an answer to his hypothetical suggestion.
