Chapter 20

Mouse fell to his knees, his eyes never leaving Francesco. He didn’t say another word, just fumbled with Francesco’s fly and took the half hard cock in his mouth. He was moaning around it, working it only with his lips and tongue. It was enough to make a man go crazy, Francesco thought as he grabbed Mouse’s head and began pushing it into his cock.

Morgan had avoided to tell him about Mouse, except that he was all alone in the world. Suddenly, the redhead’s desperation as he held on to him, sucking his cock like his life depended on it, took a different meaning for him.

He looked down at the beautiful boy stuffing his mouth. There were tears falling down his cheeks and Francesco wiped them slowly while allowing Mouse to give him head the way he wanted.

“Like this,” he whispered, his cock impossibly hard in that sweet mouth. “You know what to do, yes...”

Mouse went further, taking him down to the hilt and using his tongue to tease his balls underneath. It wasn’t like someone else ever had sucked his dick, but that was some top notch blow job expertise. Francesco couldn’t blame the men that had fucked Mouse before. He must have been good at whoring, making guys blow their loads in all his holes. The image of the slender body being grabbed and used by faceless, countless men made him start to shoot. He must have taken Mouse by surprise because the redhead let out small choking sounds but he wasn’t letting go.

Francesco ran one hand over his face. His cock was glistening with saliva as he pulled it out of Mouse’s used mouth. “Fuck, I think I shot straight into your stomach.”

Mouse wobbled as he got to his feet. Francesco steadied him and pulled him into his arms.

“I missed you, fucker,” the redhead sobbed.

“Missed you too.”

They had to talk, but later. They could stay like this for a little while.

The dark had been one of those things Francesco had gotten used to with some difficulty at first. Without any artificial lights to penetrate the darkness, his eyes got rested a lot easier, and he could make out shapes without too much trouble. He saw Mouse by the opening that served as an entrance to their hut, his arms wrapped around his knees.

They were supposed to be asleep by now, but it looked like Mouse couldn’t sleep. Francesco moved slowly and knelt by the other boy. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He was saying that, but it was easy to tell that he had been crying. “I just thought I lost you forever.”

Francesco chuckled and caressed Mouse’s hair. Day after day, they were all starting to look like savages, their hair growing too long and matted. Karl had taken to cutting his close to the head with that knife, but others no longer cared. “You didn’t. I’m here.”

He sat beside Mouse and rested his back against the wall. “Why are you in here for, Mouse?” There was no better moment to ask.

Mouse tensed. “Why do you ask?”

“I want to know. I’d like to know the guy I’m in love with.”

“I didn’t think you truly meant it,” Mouse said.

Francesco hooked an arm around the other’s shoulders. “You’re the first guy I’ve truly been with. The others forced themselves on me.”

“And the last?” Mouse teased.

Francesco’s thoughts wandered at Morgan and his firm hands holding him while giving it to him hard, yet gently. “Stop changing the subject, you sneaky. Come on, it’s not fair that you know everything and I don’t.”

“You’ll think differently of me.”

“I don’t care if you killed someone.”

“Really?”

“What? For real? You wacked a guy?” Francesco was no longer as impressed as he thought he would be. There was a reason for everything, and Mouse must have had his.

“It was self-defense,” Mouse said in a quiet voice, “but together with my whoring, it didn’t bade well to the judge. And it’s not like the lawyer in charge of me cared where I ended up.”

“What happened?” Francesco asked.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah. I want to know everything about you. How do you know how to hunt?”

“My old man taught me. We lived back in the sticks, doing what we could to survive day after day. He wasn’t a bad guy, my old man.” Mouse stopped for a moment and Francesco began caressing his back slowly. “But after mom left us, he took to the bottle. He wasn’t a drunk all his life, people said. But I don’t know. I was too little when she upped and left to remember.”

“He must have been a good hunter, though.”

“Yeah,” Mouse said with a small laugh. “The best trapper ever, when sober. He could trap anything, even a gator or something.”

Francesco pushed him playfully. “Now you’re just pulling my chain. No way could he do that.”

“He could,” Mouse protested but laughed, too. Then he sighed. “He fell into one of his traps one day. I found him after a couple of days while I searched everywhere for him. Some of the animals must have taken their revenge. I only recognized his clothes.”

“How old were you?”

“14. And got sent to live with an aunt or something. I didn’t know her, I had no idea how she could be related to my dad. But she thought I had the devil in me, for some reasons only she knew. My dad, as fucked up as he was most of the time, never raised his hand at me. But man, the kind of beating I got when I was with my aunt, damn. She had a cane this long.” He gestured to show what he meant.