Clash of Wills
The journey back was made in silence. I sat motionless in the passenger seat as we drove back to the small village by the sea. My gaze was lost in the landscape that passed by the window.
I kept reliving, over and over again, what just had happened. My confession, he looking away, his quick pulling out of me to put on his clothes in a hurry with the excuse that we had to go back.
“Stupid… stupid…” I thought as I fought back the tears that insisted on burning my eyes. “Did you think he would say he loved you too? Mad. I must be mad!”
In my chest, my heart was beating hard against my ribs.
However, my lips could still feel his kisses. My body could still feel the throb of his cock. It was all too much. The simple fact of being there, in that car, as we drove back to the rented house was consuming me.
Worse than all of this was his silence and his apparent indifference. As if my dreams had been shattered and thrown away.
A sob was dying in my throat, insisting on coming out.
When we arrived at the house, I just ran out of the car, taking the shortcut that went straight to the beach. That same shortcut where, just that afternoon, he had kissed me, leaning against the big tree.
I ran without looking back, without worrying about who had stayed there to watch me run away.
I heard his voice calling my name. That voice that set my soul flying high, in that moment tore my soul apart as if it were shards of glass.
I kept running until I reached the pine forest where I hid, running away from everything and everyone, as if that would allow me to escape the pain. I slipped down the damned tree that had witnessed our kiss. And I cried.
I let my sorrow turn into tears and pour from my eyes, trying to extinguish the pain that burned in my heart. I stood there lost in the pine forest, unaware of the time that was passing. In truth, nothing else mattered to me. I let the tears run dry and stayed there, caught between the pain and the numbness that settled inside my chest.
I kept hearing his voice calling me along the way, becoming more and more present. “Please… go away! Leave me alone… please!” I'm sure he meant to say it out loud, but it came out as nothing more than a moan.
He was still anchored to that tree as if it were a lifeboat. His voice was getting closer and closer. Painfully close.
"Psst! Primo!" he said in a sweet tone.
His voice came from behind me, making me shiver at his proximity and at having been discovered.
“Please! Leave me! I want to be alone!” I said in a pleading tone.
He sat down next to me, pulling me towards him. I felt his arms wrap around me.
“Fuck! I told you to leave me here.” he said in a louder tone.
I struggled, pushing him away and preventing him from holding my arms until I lost my strength and succumbed to his embrace. Then, when I thought I had no more tears, I cried into his chest.
“Why? Why?” I asked, already knowing perfectly well the answer to the question I was asking.
“Fuck, Luís! What do you want me to say to you? That it’s impossible? That it can never be? That this damm thing will just fuck everything up? That this will destroy the family? Is that what you want to hear?” he said to me in a torrent of words that left no room for an answer.
“LIE TO ME!” I screamed. “Just… lie to me!”
I felt his face press against the top of my head, wrapping me in his embrace.
“Luís… I can’t lie to you.” I said almost in a whisper.
“Do you love me?” I asked.
Pedro remained silent. I could hear his heart beating fast in his chest. His breathing was rapid. His arms around me tightened slightly.
“I asked you a question, Pedro! Do you love me?” I insisted, as if the answer was necessary for me to continue breathing.
He pushed me away from his embrace, got up from the ground, shaking off the sand and pine needles that had stuck to his clothes. His eyes rested on me. I searched them for any sign of an answer to my question. It was, still, the same eyes that made me lose my breath, the same eyes that broke down my defenses.
“Come on. Your mother was waiting for you to get home. I told her you had to walk for a while because you had a few too many drinks.” He said, giving me his hand to help me get up from the ground.
“You didn’t answer me.” I said almost in a whisper.
“FODA-SE… STOP!” he shouted.
The outburst made me shiver as I watched him. I had never heard him yell or lose his temper. Pedro was always very measured when he spoke and seeing him like this left me baffled.
He started walking back towards the house in long strides. I could see his shoulders tense and his back extremely straight, while he shoved his hands on his pockets.
“Move! Before you fuck things up even further!” he yelled as he walked away from me.
Those words were like a punch to the stomach. I felt like my heart had skipped a beat. The wave of nausea was real.
When we read about a character feeling so bad that he vomits because of his emotions, we never think it’s real. But it is. There I was, turned into a character in some book, on the verge of vomiting.
I used the tree as a support to stand up and took a deep breath, trying to control my nausea. I started walking back to the house, keeping my distance from him.
When I entered the house, my mother stared at me. Her eyes said more than her mouth said.
“Look at those eyes!” she said in a disapproving tone.
I looked in a mirror in the entrance of the house. There it was. The reflection I couldn’t hide. My eyes were red and swollen from crying.
“But you don’t smell like alcohol. Luís, smoking something, instead?” she asked, coming closer to me.
“Mom! You know I don’t like that! I just had a little too much to drink and felt sick. I ended up throwing up. That’s all!” I said, trying to hide the tears that wanted to consume my voice again.
My mother's gaze wandered over my face.
“Go to bed. Let's see if you can cure your drunkenness!” she said in an authoritative tone.
I went to my room in a flash. I wanted to be alone, to be away from everything and everyone. I lay down on my bed, but the sheets still smelled like Pedro. That was enough for the images of his body, the sensation of his kisses, the memory of his wonderful cock penetrating me and me being filled with his sperm to be the breaking point.
Then, grabbing a pillow and placing it over my face, I screamed. I let my screams carry away the frustration I felt inside me.
I don't know how much time passed. I know I fell asleep from exhaustion and total emotional exhaustion. I woke up with the feeling that someone was looking at me. I tried to focus my eyes because the room was already enveloped in the faint light of a very late sunset.
"Psst! Primo." I heard his voice say.
Sitting at the foot of my bed was Pedro. His swollen and red eyes clearly showed that I wasn't the only one who had been crying. However, his eyes didn't meet mine.
“Listen. You can't stay like this. We can't. It's impossible and you know it.” he said in a tone of frustration. “No one will accept it and this will ruin our family.”
I heard a long, deep sigh as he settled into the bed as if looking for a more comfortable position to be able to give me some news.
“… now I can't stay away from you either.” he finally let out.
“And what does that mean? That you like me? That you feel the same way I do?” I asked.
“It just means that I feel good when I’m with you. You make me feel good. I like your touch, your voice. The way you laugh. Fuck, I love your smell and the way you moan when I’m inside you. You drive me insane with that thing you with your ass, when you’re about to cum.” He said calmly, punctuating each statement with a shake of his head. “Is it love? I don’t know, Luís. But we can’t afford that. That’s when we’d fuck everything up.”
I approached him, crawling across the bed to his lap.
“So, if you can be an adult and know that this is the most I can give you right now… perfect! Then you have all of me. If you insist on more, on wanting more… then we have to stop being together. And I’ll make up an excuse to go back to Lisbon tomorrow.” He said, never looking at me.
I stayed there, sitting on his lap, trying to decipher what was hidden in his gaze. Something was there that wasn't there before.
I hugged him, trying to get closer to him. I pressed my nose against his neck, inhaling his scent. The scent of Old Spice was perfect for him. I saw his Adam's apple sway and touched it with the softness of a caress.
A sigh escaped his lips. I just stayed like that, in that embrace where I felt protected.
Suddenly someone knocked on the bedroom door. On the other side, my father's voice.
"Guys! Dinner is on the table!" he said in a calm voice.
I literally jumped to the floor trying to put some distance between me and Pedro. My father opened the door while I pretended to look for something on the bedside table. Pedro remained sitting at the foot of my bed.
“Come on! Hurry up!” my father said, urging me to hurry up. “Your mother told me that you drank a little too much and threw up. You have to calm down. Next time don’t come home right away.” he said with a smile.
My father was the typical Latino Macho. Real men are alphas males and they can do anything. From drinking or jumping from relationship to relationship, everything was allowed. For him, his son getting drunk was normal. As long as I didn’t show up at my mother’s side like that, because he was the one who had to listen to her complaints.
“Yes. Something I drank didn’t agree with my stomach. But now I’m fine!” I replied casually.
Pedro continued to listen to the conversation without saying anything. Looking between me and my father with a small smile on his lips.
Then, out of nowhere, my father reminded me again that, in his eyes, men are for being with women.
“You’re a man now too. You can do some things now.” he said with a smile. “And you have to find a girl. Fuck her! It’s starting to get weird not having a girlfriend.”
Those words burned to my soul, making me feel a twist of agony. I looked at my father and couldn't say anything.
Several times he had said that "I would rather have a dead son than a sissy son."
As soon as my father left the room, Pedro looked at me.
"Do you still wonder why we can't be together? Do you have any idea what he would do to you? Or to me?" he asked, looking straight into my eyes.
"I know...! But it still hurts." I said, as I looked for something to wear.
"Do you know what he said to me one day? I must have been about 13 years old. I was looking at a magazine with some guys in their underwear. He asked me what the hell that was. Then, as if its the most normal thing to say, he said that if I was a faggot, he would kill me and then kill himself. Sweet, isn't it?" I said, with a sad smile on my face.
Pedro hugged me from behind, wrapping me in his body. I felt the bubbling of emotions rising in my chest again. As if the tears wanted to burst from my throat again.
“Get dressed. Let’s have dinner. Then we’ll walk a little. You need it and I need it!” I said calmly.
I nodded my head in agreement. I wanted more… I wished for more. But this was all I could have at that moment and, in truth, it was better than nothing.
Dinner went normally, as it always had, and the two of us left through the shortcut that led to the beach.
It was night. The full moon was bright enough to be able to see the path that led us to the beach. We spoke little along the way. In fact, there was little to talk about. Those were the moments when we could pretend to be normal.
I held his hand, trying to touch his skin, intertwining my fingers with his.
“You like playing with fire!” he said smiling. “What am I going to do with you? You managed to turn the world upside down. But you have to be calm.”
“It’s easier said than done, Pedro.” I replied. “But I promise I’ll try.”
When we got to the beach, we sat on the sand watching and listening to the sea. The moonlight perfectly illuminated the night, casting thousands of points of light on the water, creating a kaleidoscope effect of lights and shadows.
I let my head rest on his shoulder as I buried my feet in the sand.
We stayed like that. Simply like that. No need for words.
Then, with the same calm that characterized him, he gently laid me down on the sand. His mouth sought mine in a tender kiss. I felt his lips open mine in a sensual dance, sucking every part of my mouth. His tongue gently entered, seeking mine to taste each other.
This was more than a kiss. It was a promise that, no matter what, he would be there. His breath was ragged with the heat of the kiss. His hand held the back of my head as I pulled him close to me. He pulled off my shirt, kissing and sucking every sensitive part of my body. His tongue traced wet paths from my neck to my chest. With his free hand, he pinched one nipple while sucking the other. It was a sweet agony, between the sharp pain I felt on one side and the sweet pleasure I felt on the other.
My cock was already painfully hard inside my shorts. I could feel the wetness of pre-cum staining my clothes and skin. Suddenly, he brought his mouth to my ear.
“Today… it’s just you! All of this is just for you.” he whispered.
His hot breath sent shivers across my skin, making me moan under his touch. His hands slid to the elastic waistband of my shorts, pulling them down.
In that moment, the whole world around us disappeared. I was only aware of his kisses, his hands and the desire I had to be touched. He began to massage my cock, milking every drop of pre-cum that was emerging from the tip of my shaft, rubbing it on my glans and, thus, eliciting moans and whimpers of pleasure from me. His mouth continued to slide down my body, leaving a trail of kisses and saliva in its path until it reached my cock. He swallowed it greedily, sucking while started massaging my balls.
“Foda-se, Luís! I love the way you taste!” he said as he took a breath to let my cock go down his throat again.
My hips moved unconsciously, thrusting forward toward his mouth, trying to go deeper. I was lost in a sea of sensations. His hands continued to stimulate my nipples and my balls. His mouth sucked my cock greedily, making me moan with pleasure.
“Pedro… I’m… almost there!” I managed to say, my speech interrupted by short, shallow breaths.
“Don’t even think about it. I wont let you cum anytime soon!” I said, stopping sucking.
I looked at him with a pleading look in my eyes.
“Please… Pedro!” I begged.
And he started again. That mouth was taking every last shred of my sanity.
I tried to hold his head in place, but my hands were pulled away and my wrists were pinned to the side of my body by his own hands.
And he kept sucking, stopping and starting again, in an agonizing prolongation of my pleasure.
I writhed beneath his body. My wrists still pinned to my sides.
“Fuck... Pedro... Let me come... I can't take it anymore.” I begged.
The control of my body had long since disappeared. I writhed beneath his body that restricted my leg movements, while he held my wrists with his hands.
It was then, after long minutes of sweet torment, that he increased the rhythm of his head bobbing. The effect was overwhelming. I felt the orgasm breaking inside me like waves crashing against the rocks on the beach. I lost track of time and space, thrusting forward, shooting jet after jet inside his mouth.
“FODA-SE... CARALHO.” I screamed into the silence of the night.
The spasms of pleasure still shook my body, leaving me behind a haze of post-orgasm confusion.
I stayed there... lying on the sand trying to find myself in the middle of the confusion that took over my mind.
“Psst! Primo!” I said softly. “Foda-se. That's it.”
He released my hands at the same time I sought his mouth with mine. My lips crushed his, still tasting myself on his tongue. I was literally devouring his mouth. The kisses fell short of what I wanted.
“Hey! Calm down. The world isn't ending today.” he said with a smile.
“But I had the feeling that it was going to end at any moment.” I replied, still panting.
He hugged me, getting on top of me, feeling his weight sinking my body into the sand of the beach.
“Come on. It’s time to go back.” he said with a smile.
I stood up, trying to shake off the sand that insisted on sticking to my skin, which revealed that I had been almost naked on the beach in the middle of the night.
“Let’s go home.” he said, placing his hand on my back and leading me out of the beach.
The way back was covered with small talk and muffled laughter. The big tree in the pine forest was, once again, witness to another hidden kiss in the night, before returning to the secrecy that we were forced to maintain in that house.
I went to the room that I shared with Pedro and started to change, taking off the shorts and t-shirt covered in sand.
“Psst! Primo.” I said in a whisper.
I looked back with a smile. My eyes stopped on his bare torso. He had come to do the same thing I had.
“Tonight you’re will be mine… again!” he said with a broad smile.
And was there any doubt? I was actually his.
(To be Continue)
