Five Boroughs 01 - Sutphin Boulevard (35 page)

I gasped, lips parting while he continued to lick at me. Nunzio smacked my ass again and saliva skewed down my chin. I hissed, but the sensation went firmly to my engorged cock.

I pressed my forehead to his, and I knew he could read every message I was sending.
Be as rough as you want, but don’t stop.

Nunzio’s breath gusted out in a whoosh. His eyes shut briefly, and then he ripped down my pants in a way that caused my cock to slap back against my stomach once freed. He wrapped his fingers around it, sliding his thumb along the sticky slit, and jerked twice. I moaned, a shuddering breathy sound, and convulsed when he brought his thumb to his lips and licked.

Nothing was gentle about the way Nunzio shoved me down, or the way he hunched over to fuck my mouth. I took what he gave me, relaxing my throat muscles so he could go in balls deep.

“Yeah….”

He humped my face with intent and only pulled back when I gagged. The head of his dick bumped my lips, smearing the salty taste of his precome all over them.

Nunzio breathed raggedly, manhandling me into the position he wanted, and shoved me facedown on the bed. His lips brushed the back of my neck, his tongue licking down between my shoulder blades before he nibbled along the ridges of my spine. By the time Nunzio’s teeth sank into one of the likely reddened globes of my ass, I was undulating on the bed, the desire to get off a primal instinct that removed any sense of shame.

The wet tip of Nunzio’s tongue dragged down and he pulled my asscheeks apart. I felt damp pressure against my hole. I groaned, the sound muffled by a pillow, and I dipped my chest lower to the bed. There was something so inherently dirty about his saliva sliding down my crack to pool on the sheet, and his tongue driving into me, that I was on the brink of shooting by the time he stopped.

“Nunzio, please.”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me.”

He shoved two fingers into my saliva-slicked hole, and I cried out, instinctively riding back on them. “God, yes.”

Nunzio’s voice was a low growl. “Tell me exactly what you want.” His fingers jabbed deep, and I trembled.

“Use me,” I gritted out. “Fill me up with your fucking come.”

Nunzio’s fingers yanked out. He reached out to retrieve a bottle of lube from his nightstand before smearing it on my hole with the head of his dick. After teasing me, he pushed in slow and steady, and my toes curled in the sheet.

“
Shit
.”

He slid home and started thrusting with a punishing pace. His palm braced my neck, the other between my shoulder blades, and he rode my ass with such violence the sounds that left my mouth were jarred and breathless. I managed to plead for more in a jumble of unintelligible syllables.

Nunzio grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked back my head before clasping his hand around my throat. I shouted, again caught between the need to be dominated and a sharp blossom of pain, before the pressure eased and our position shifted. He stretched across my back, pinning me to the bed instead of keeping me upraised the way I had been before. His arm encircled my throat, trapping me in place, while his free hand gripped my jaw and turned it toward him.

When Nunzio fucked into me again, I could see his face—flushed and no longer tightened with traces of anger. We moved languidly at first, but soon the bed was wrecked and sweaty, and I could feel him starting to peak.

Nunzio rolled to the side, taking me with him, and pulled up one of my thighs. Half-twisted but mostly on my back, I was able to reach down to jerk myself off while our mouths sealed together and he drilled into me.

I came first, chest hollowing, eyes watering, and sobbing against the crush of his lips. I was still clutching my shaft when he flooded my ass with a hot rush of semen.

After several long moments of breathless gasping, Nunzio pulled out with a sigh, face still twisted with the agonizing dregs of his orgasm. I kissed him again even though he was breathing too hard to respond, and tuned in to the thrum of his heart.

“Christ, Mikey.” His arms loosened around me.

I nodded for lack of anything coherent to say. The room felt too hot, but I didn’t want him to pull away. He didn’t. His body molded to mine, fitting perfectly.

When Nunzio looked up at me, I shot him a tiny smile.

“So,” he said softly, “how was rehab?”

“It wasn’t exactly a good time, but I needed to be ripped out of my slump.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” Nunzio’s brow creased. “Your slump?”

“To put it mildly, yeah.” I touched the small of his back, and I ran my fingers along the indentation above his ass. “I can’t believe I got that bad. I thought I could handle myself better than that.”

Nunzio’s gaze dropped. A thread of tension went through his body. “I didn’t know how to help you.”

“How could you? I wouldn’t even let you in. I needed to figure out how to help myself.”

“And you’re at that point now?”

“I am.”

“Good.” A faint smile warmed Nunzio’s face. “What about work?”

“Work will be fine. I’m going back at the beginning of March.”

“I’m glad. You’re made for that job.”

“But you’ll be gone.”

Pale blue eyes flashed up at me. “Yeah. I’ll be at Gateway, that LGBT youth center we used to hang out at when we were kids.”

I waited for him to say more but received nothing further. When we only stared at each other, I forced a tight smile. “I met a couple of kids in rehab who might be going to Gateway to get their GED. One is like a combination of Mac and Shawn.”

“Oh Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

Nunzio unwound our limbs and sat up halfway. He stretched and a yawn nearly cracked his jaw. “I’m surprised Raymond didn’t tell me you were out. I had him giving me a steady stream of Mikey updates.”

“I told him not to. I wanted to talk to you myself. In person.”

“Was asking me to come in your ass the conversation you planned?”

“No. That wasn’t on the agenda.” I propped myself up on my elbow. His body was still generating heat, but I wasn’t prepared to back away. “I just wanted to talk, but you’re disgustingly beautiful, so molestation happened. Sorry.”

“You should apologize. It was a real hardship.”

“Was that a pun?”

“An unplanned one.” Nunzio cracked a smile. “You seem less miserable, but I don’t think post-fuck is an accurate time to assess that type of thing.”

“I’m too happy to see you for anything to be accurate. I missed you.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. You have no idea.”

Nunzio relaxed again.

“While I was gone.…” I pulled him closer until our damp skin glided together. “Were you with anyone? I don’t have the right to ask, but I want to know.”

“Would it matter?”

My fingers tightened on him. “No, but I need to know how badly I fucked up.”

Nunzio’s gaze softened. He chuckled. “No, Mikey. There wasn’t anyone else. In your message you asked me to wait for you, and I did. I’ve been waiting for twenty fucking years. I could hold out for a month.”

I released a shaky breath. For the first time in weeks, months, the heaviness receded from my shoulders.

“You… have no idea how much I regret acting the way I did. I was trying not to drag anyone down with me but I pushed you away, and I left Raymond caught out there after having just found our father dead. I was miserable and hating myself, but I abandoned both of you, and I’m sorry. I would have understood if you’d decided not to wait.”

“Damn, is this like an AA step?”

I scowled. “I’m serious, Nunzio. It has nothing to do with rehab. Yeah, I had time to dry out and get my head together, but no one gave me a script. Can you stop being a smart-ass for a minute so we can have a serious conversation?”

“Sorry.” Nunzio grabbed my hand, bringing it up to his lips. He kissed it, eyes not leaving mine. “I’m nervous.”

I stared, incredulous. “You? Why?”

“Because last time we had a serious conversation you advised me to walk out of your life. That’s why I’ve been avoiding seeing you. I thought we both needed space. I wanted you to be sure that you really wanted to patch things up with me, that you really meant what you said in that message, before I came around with more expectations. For the past few months, I’d been so demanding of you that I ended up pushing you away, and I couldn’t even see it at that time.”

“Yeah, because I wasn’t trying to talk to you about it.”

Nunzio looked down. “It wasn’t just on you, Mikey.”

I marveled at how we’d gotten to this point. We knew everything about each other, had been side by side for over half our lives, but I could tell he was just as terrified as I was that something had irrevocably changed.

“I would never hurt you, Nunzio. That wasn’t the real me. You know the real me.”

“I know the real you wasn’t feeling me the way I was feeling you. You said it even before everything went down with your dad.”

I leaned away, trying to collect all the words I’d put together on the train ride over. Somewhere along the line, they’d scattered and I couldn’t reel them in in the correct order. I had faint indications of mentioning that humid night in July, and I’d planned to confess to the way my body had reacted to every casual and affectionate touch after that night, and how the threesome had activated a desire so strong that I’d been scared of it.

All of the things I’d never thought about cohesively, all of the things I’d never said but planned to say this morning, flitted around my brain and demanded to be let out. But now that we were sitting together on the same sweat-soaked bed, his body flawless and his expression so guarded, it didn’t seem good enough.

“When I was in the hospital, there was this moment,” I said finally. “When I realized that… I can’t be without you. And then when I was in rehab, I kept dreaming about you. Almost every night, I dreamed about us together or you with someone else, and I woke up in a panic at the idea of you moving on. It hit me that even after dating him for two years, I’d never once had those feelings for Clive. Even after he dumped me, it was done. I didn’t wonder what he was doing, and I didn’t dream about him. It was just a closed chapter in my life, and I was over it.”

Nunzio swallowed so heavily that I could see his throat working. I scooted closer.

“But it wasn’t like that with you, and I’ve been scared that I blew it and missed my shot.” When he continued to sit there, gazing at me and tightening his fingers with mine, I pushed again. “Did I?”

“No.”

Relief hit me with such intensity that my shoulders sagged. Nunzio still looked unsure, still seemed hesitant to believe what I was saying. All of his doubt mirrored what I’d been feeling only a moment ago. But it was for nothing. We were finally on the same page.

“Go on a date with me.”

Nunzio stared.

“Come on, niño.” I squeezed his thigh. “Go on a date with me. Please?”

He pushed my hand away. “Come on, Mikey.”

“I’m serious. I swear to God.” I grabbed at him again, this time catching his wrist as he started to rise from the bed. “I want to be with you, and not just to be friends with benefits. I want us to date. A real relationship. Just us.”

The tension was starting to dissipate from his posture. “Like movies and dinner? Holding hands? You calling me your boyfriend? The whole cheesy deal?”

“Yes. I want the whole thing. I want every part of you, and I won’t fuck up again. We can make this work. I love you, niño.”

Nunzio continued to analyze my face, my body language, and was so cautious that I fought the urge to shake him. But after a moment, he flashed his brilliant Medici grin.

“Let’s do it. You can start by buying me breakfast.”

I kissed his forehead. “Breakfast it is.”

I tried to contain the enormity of my emotions, but he could see through me. At my best and worst, Nunzio had always seen me. What I wanted, what I needed, and the fact that we belonged together. He’d known all along, and I was just catching up.

It had taken two decades but we had finally made it, and nothing would ever again keep us apart.

S
ANTINO
H
ASSELL
was raised by a conservative family, but he was anything but traditional. He grew up to be a smart-mouthed, school-cutting grunge kid, then a transient twentysomething, and eventually transformed into the romance-writing and sarcasm-loving guy that people know him as today.

Santino is a dedicated gamer, a former anime-watcher and fanfic writer, an ASoIaF mega nerd, a Grindr enthusiast, but most of all he is a writer of queer fiction that is heavily influenced by the gritty, urban landscape of New York City, his belief that human relationships are complex and flawed, and his own life experiences.

To learn more about Santino you can follow him on:

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