Francesco sighed and grabbed his phone. "Hey," he said softly and walked out on the pool deck, closing the door behind him without making too much noise. Karl was busy, getting measured and poked with tiny needles as the tailor on call was trying him out for his groom attire. Apparently, Francesco had been an easy read for the old man. That family really liked to do things the old-fashioned way, even if it was clearly nothing old-fashioned about the heir to the throne to marry a dude, and not a princess.
His life, as he knew it, was gone. After that night at the cabin, he had been taken directly to Karl's home and put there, like luggage. Everything was happening fast. And the shitstorm had been a sight. Media, interviews, his life in the spotlight. It all sounded so pretty. According to the nicely trimmed and photoshopped version of his self, he was a boy coming from a working class family, with an impeccable school record -- really? -- and with a charming personality. He had been Karl's first love, at first sight even -- irony, much? -- and the other way around. They had met while volunteering for gay youth rights -- eyes roll, cue applauses -- and hit it off.
Sure, not everyone believed that pile of crap, but Francesco's police record was no more. Not even his stepfather had been discovered. His mom had called, asking him about what was going on.
The answer? He didn't really know.
"Good to hear you, man," he said as soon as he thought himself out of eavesdropping range. Unlike before, when he had been alone with Karl there, only with Morgan as a witness, the house was now overrun by all kinds of people engaged with the upcoming wedding.
Mouse chuckled in his ear. "The hell, Kekko? Marriage?"
Francesco sat on one of the long chairs and moved the phone from one ear to the other. "Did you hear about it half a world away? Damn, the world has gone to shit."
"You can say that again. So, care to tell me the real version? I puked a little in my mouth reading about," Mouse paused for effect like he was trying to recall the exact words he must have read, "your innocent attraction that turned into a love that didn't deserve to be silenced."
"Ha, ha, laugh some more, asshole," Francesco said. "Trust me, you don't wanna know the truth." His pause wasn't for effect. He was happy Mouse called, but he couldn't say a word ringing of any remote truth. That was pretty much his burden to share.
"Ah, I see," Mouse said. Like always, he was the sharpest tool in the shed. He didn't need a manual to tell him the world was fucked. "How are the preparations going along?"
"Got tried for a fancy suit, can you imagine?"
"I can. I bet you look dashing. Hmm, sexy. Fuckable," Mouse's voice dropped to a whisper.
Francesco laughed and shook his head. It was good to talk to someone who was far away from all the drama, someone who cared about his ass. "I wish you could come."
Mouse hissed like he was put through the wringer. "Can't, man. Busy with a war or some shit."
Not like they could pretend to be normal and have Mouse as their best man or whatever. Daddy-in-law might not know about Mouse being what he was to Francesco and Karl. That hot sex on the phone with Mouse as a witness was still on his mind. Things had seemed so simple then, and they hadn't happened such a long time ago, either.
"That's too bad," he murmured. "Fuck, I miss you so much."
"Don't tell me Karl doesn't care about giving you the proper dicking you deserve."
"Maybe I just need my cock sucked. You know, no one compares to you." Francesco watched idly as behind the hedge wall, more people were pouring in.
"Good. Although I know I have no competition since Karl's no sucker, right?" Mouse laughed, and it felt so good to hear him. "Or did that change without my knowledge?"
"No, it didn't. He's still an asshole," Francesco joked.
"This doesn't sit well with you," Mouse said suddenly.
Francesco rubbed his ear. No point in fooling Mouse. "No," he admitted in a hard beat.
"Will you tell me? Next time we see each other?"
"Maybe," he said reluctantly. "Is all good on your end? Many delicious cocks to suck?"
Mouse smacked his lips. "Plenty. It's basically the only thing keeping me from going slightly batshit crazy, given the circs. I always think about you and your sweet cock, though."
"So romantic of you." Francesco chuckled. He saw Morgan walk toward him. "Gotta go, man. Love you."
