Chapter 7

Karl held one arm wrapped around his waist, and Francesco had no choice but to keep him by the shoulders in turn. It was the only way for him to walk for now with that fucked up ankle. He ground his teeth, not wanting to let it show that it hurt.

“Mouse,” Karl called.

They were walking in front, so everyone was forced to move at their own pace. That was more reason for Francesco to feel like a useless piece of shit.

“What?” Mouse asked.

“You’ll have to take a look at Cesco’s ankle once we get to our new base.”

“Sure.” The redhead kept his voice even, not letting any emotion show, and Francesco couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking.

Most probably that he was a stupid retard who got fucked because couldn’t hold his own. Anything Mouse thought of him now, he deserved it.

“Does it hurt badly?” Karl asked in a much softer tone.

Francesco grimaced. “Stop pretending that you care, asshole.”

“Fine, if you’re such a bitch.”

Karl had to know by now how grating that word was for him.

“I’ll have to carry you again.”

Francesco wanted to protest but he could tell the others weren’t happy about moving so slowly. There were murmurs and looks back, and everyone feared another attack. So, he said nothing as Karl hiked him over one shoulder and patted his ass. When he had been unconscious, Karl must have done the same thing. Just how strong was that fucker? He still had room to grow, but he wasn’t some skinny fuck.

He was exempted from the duty of putting together their shelters, so Francesco wandered off to the river, where he found a ledge to rest on. He pulled off his sneaker and winced at the size of his swollen ankle.

“Hey,” someone called softly.

He raised his eyes to see Mouse coming toward him. He quickly looked away. “Keep your pity for someone who cares.”

The redhead came closer and sat by his side. “What happened?”

Francesco hanged his head low. “What do you think?” he spat. “Just what you warned me of. Karl fucked my ass.”

For a few moments, Mouse said nothing. Francesco whimpered when smooth hands rested on his injured ankle. He didn’t say a thing while Mouse examined it.

“Is it broken?” he asked, fearing the answer.

His eyes met Mouse’s magnetic gaze.

“Karl took nothing from you, okay?”

Francesco blinked. The last thing he needed was to cry in front of Mouse.

“You’re not less of a man or whatever.” Mouse leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

Francesco let himself drown into the kiss. Mouse’s mouth was as sweet as ever, and this time, he dared using his tongue, too. A sharp pain coursed through his leg and he let go of Mouse’s mouth to cry out.

Mouse laughed. Francesco blinked. His ankle hurt considerably less. He could even move it, so he began laughing, too. “What the hell, Ahab? What did you do?”

“Fixed you a little. Good thing it wasn’t broken.” His eyes shadowed. “Did Karl --”

“No,” Francesco said. “That was my own stupidity.”

“All right. It will heal.”

They sat like that in silence. Their eyes met again, and Mouse’s smile turned languid like his eyes. Francesco watched as Mouse licked his lips and then bit on the bottom fat one.

“I can fix you in other ways, too,” the redhead whispered.

Francesco gulped. “Like what?”

“Like this.” Mouse reached for his crotch and opened his fly.

Francesco said nothing. His breath caught, and his eyes rolled in his head as Mouse got between his legs and took his cock in like it was some lollipop. Those clients that the redhead had talked about had been lucky mofos. Mouse’s mouth was awesome on him, licking the glans and savoring it like it was a delicious desert.

He kept one hand on the ground for balance but used the other to caress Mouse’s hair. “Your mouth is wonderful, you beautiful cocksucker,” he said softly.

It looked like the praise was enough motivation for Mouse, because the next thing, Francesco felt his cock going all the way in. That was some awesome deepthroating. When he had been fucked before, Francesco had only taken it up the ass; he had never sucked off a dude, but looking at Mouse made him hungry for cock.

He slurped and swallowed Francesco’s sword like it was nothing. Time and time again, he pulled back until the cock head sat on his tongue, allowing Francesco to see. Then, he went at it once more, making Francesco grunt each time the tip of his cock met resistance in the back of Mouse’s throat. He couldn’t understand how the other boy wasn’t chocking or gagging. That made him an expert, and all the more reason to impress anyone who had the chance to have his cock polished and swallowed like that.

Francesco began bucking his hips slightly. “Sorry, man, I think I’m gonna jizz,” he said breathlessly.

It was a feeling like no other to shoot inside the guy’s throat. Girls had given him head, but it had never been like this. Although, all those times, while watching them, he had come while imagining he was the one sucking on a cock and milking it dry.

Mouse’s eyes were shiny and there was a bit of cum on his lips when he stood. “Does it feel better?” he asked with a smile.

Francesco looked up at him. The way Mouse stood in the sun like that, he looked like a beautiful savage, part of that place. “You have a little --” he gestured.

Mouse licked his lips. “Yours is fucking amazing, Kekko. And I know what I’m saying.”

Francesco chuckled. “You’re such a fucking freak. But is it the best you ever had?”

Mouse shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll need to taste it properly next time.”