Forging Maximilien Capitulu 1
Hey there!
I'm glad to show you this new story! I hope you will enjoy it as much as you enjoyed the last one! This first chapter will be less sexual than the rest of the serie, as setting up the story took me some time, but you'll get plenty of it in the future installements!
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Capitulu I. U Pinzutu
Forging Maximilien Chapter 1
I remember the day my father announced my brother and I that we were moving to Corsica as if it were yesterday.
He sat us around the oval wooden dining room table after school, our mother next to him, and told us we would be soon living in a new place. I remember thinking that we would get a new house, a bigger one, and that I would be able to invite all my friends there.
Throughout the day, I was excitedly jumping around, ecstatic at the idea that my bedroom would be bigger, that I would have a large backyard to play in.
It must have gotten to my older brother's nerve, Clément, because he sat me down and broke the news to me.
None of my friends would be visiting our new house, none, he insisted, for Corsica was an island far beyond the horizon, where no one would be able to follow us. `Say your friends farewell' he told me coldly, because you shall never see their faces or hear their voices again.
I was six, and I didn't believe my brother, but he was right. I never saw any of my friends again after waving them goodbye from my parent's car. We drove for hours on the highway toward the south, and once in Marseille, boarded a large ship that took us even further.
My parents were happy about the change, granting them both a new start after my father's unfaithfulness, far from their rural town's gossips. Clément, initially the most upset about the change, quickly found new friends and was back to business as usual, but I was left alone.
I couldn't get over the fact that I had lost all my friends, so I isolated myself, feeling lonely and sad. What was initially a phase turned into a habit, the other kids having decided that I was a freak, and me having decided to believe them.
These first few years in Corsica where the worst of my whole life, trapped between my unhappy parents, focused on trying to save their broken couple, my brother trying to get away from it all and forgetting I even existed, and the village kids that collectively decided to ostracise me.
That's when I found out the signification of the Corsican word `Pinzutu', which literally translates to `Pointy' but is actually a demeaning word to talk about a French from `The continent'.
To most people there, my family and I were "Pinzuti", unwelcomed and ignorant to Corsican custom's, culture and hierarchy. Colonisers that perpetuated the French imperialism by our very existence. A foe that had set foot on the island to achieve the absolute obliteration of an ancient culture on the sake of Jacobinism and the French Nation-State.
When, after more than two years in this small mountain village, my parents announced to me that we were moving to Porto-Vecchio, I practically jumped to the roof with jubilation. To me, Porto-Vecchio was THE city, the big apple where streets were paved with gold.
Of course, with its 10.000 inhabitants, Porto-Vecchio was hardly a big city, but it was the absolute and unchallenged core of the south-east Corsican coast, and I couldn't wait to get away from our small village.
Clément was happy as well, because it was getting him closer to his high school friends and would grant him a bit more autonomy when going out, and my parents would get better professional opportunities there.
In the end, moving to Porto-Vecchio was a real blessing, and after a couple of years wondering if I even had any reason to stay alive, I gradually started to feel a little better.
Getting out of our village also meant changing schools and, to me, it meant meeting Yanis.
Yanis was the first classmate that caught my eye. He was taller than me, stronger than me, and handsome as hell! He made me realise that my lack of interest in girls wasn't solely due to my young age, but to my total devotion to the masculine body.
Surprisingly, and despite our numerous dissimilarities, we bonded pretty quickly. I think the fact that we were two outcasts brought us even closer together.
Yanis had a Corsican mother and an Arab father, and although most Corsicans are okay with considering a kid from a Franco-Corsican couple as Corsican himself, nothing was less true if one of the parents was Arab.
One single drop of Arab blood was more than enough to spoil the purity of the Corsican blood, as they seemed to believe. To most of them, Yanis was a `Musgingatu' which could be translated with `dirty' or `stain'. It was a particularly vicious way to define him, especially in his own homeland.
Of course, the other Pinzuti like me, and many Corsicans as well, didn't believe this supremacist bullshit of pure blood and such, but the influence of those who did was so strong that no one really wanted to contradict them, and thus very few people wanted to be seen around Yanis.
I, for my part, had already left my hatred towards those bearing this ideology grow so high that I had no problem with befriending Yanis whatsoever.
I never regretted my choice. From this day forward, we were inseparable, growing up together like brothers, loyalty being at the core of our friendship.
Deep down, however, my feelings for Yanis were less platonic than I would have liked. With each passing day, he became closer to being an absurdly handsome young man, and despite concealing my emotions in the best of my abilities, the reality was that my love for him never faltered.
Every time I smelled his scent, felt the heat of his body on mine, or his breath on my skin, I was reminded that he was everything I wanted, and yet would never be able to get. This killed me from inside, being torn between wanting him to realise what I felt for him and the fear that he would reject me over it.
Yanis was a chill guy, but he had been raised in a conservative family by a religious father, and although he didn't define himself as religious, I had a strong suspicion he wouldn't be okay with me being gay, not even mentioning me being in love with him.
Yeah, I was pretty sure of it, the day Yanis would find out I was gay would be the day I would lose him.
This Sword of Damocles upon my head was making me constantly nervous about outing myself in a way or another, letting something slip out of my mouth, or for my behaviour to somehow telling me away. Because of that, I pushed Yanis away and, although we were still close, I started spending more time alone, isolating myself once more.
Time had changed since I was six years old, though, and now being eighteen years old, about to start my last year of high school, I had been starting to attract the attention of girls and boys alike.
You mother might tell you a million time that you're the most handsome boy on the planet, it never feels as true as when someone in the street give you a glance full of lust.
It was mid-June, and the school year was finally over. I had passed my last exam of the Baccalauréat with brio and only had one more year to do before going to university.
For some reason, my mother insisted that Clément took me with him and his friends at the beach that day, having decided that I was far too asocial for my own good. My brother was very reluctant, never having passed that phase of considering me as his annoying weirdo of a baby brother, but he knew better than to piss our mother off.
Clément had hoped his friends would say no when he asked them if I could join, but they didn't seem to mind at all so, when they finally parked in front of our house to pick us up, I got down the stairs with Clément, not daring to talk and feeling ashamed to kill his fun with his friends.
"Hey guys!" Clément said with a bright smile when we arrived in front of them, waiting outside of the car. "Sorry about that, my mom was really bugging me and..."
"Shut up bro!" One of his friends interrupted with a laugh. "It's really no big deal." He added before getting closer to me and putting his large hand on my shoulder. "I'm Paul, and this is Ange."
"I'm Maximilien." I answered with the beginning of a smile.
When I turned to look at Ange, I caught him looking at me up and down with a glance that was conspicuously lustful. His eyes were glued to my round butt in my mini bathing short, a mischievous smirk on his face.
He then set his gaze in mine, diving deep into my eyes with confidence and a predatorial expression on his face, gauging how receptive I was to being his next prey, and turned around before jumping behind the wheel.
"Alright, let's go! I'm cooking here!" He exclaimed as I sat next to Clément on the backseat. I don't think my brother or even Paul noticed, because they were chill, and I know for certain my brother would have sent me straight back home if he had sensed what I sensed in his friend.
Of course, I was a teen with raging hormones, so it wasn't impossible that I misinterpreted his stare. It wouldn't be the first time, after all, and Ange was a very handsome young man, and I was accustomed to wishful thinking.
Paul turned the volume up, and the old car drove through the hills separating Porto-Vecchio and Palombaggia beach. It didn't have AC, so our windows were opened, arms hanging outside while the warm wind filled the car.
My brother and his friends are terrible taste in music, but I knew better than to being a little bitch and complain about it. I kept stealing glances at Ange, but he was too focused in driving, and for good reasons. The hills of Boca di l'Oru were no joke and the tight turns made me feel like the car would flip at some point.
Eventually, as we passed the other side of the hills, the azure pristine beaches of Palombaggia appeared on the horizon and I smiled to myself. I ran on the burning white sand when getting out of the car, the soles of my feet feeling like I was stepping on melting iron and gasped with relief when getting into the water.
I followed the guys to their spot until Ange neglectingly threw his bag on the sand before hooking his T-shirt and revealing his Greek God's body. I stared at it with awe for a little bit too long, and of course the next thing I saw were his big handsome eyes looking back at me with a sly spark in them.
I gulped and quickly threw my stuff on the sand before running to the water, plunging my whole body into the sea.
The afternoon went smoothly. Relaxing and tanning under the sun between two dips, my brother eventually getting beach rackets out of his bag and asking us if we wanted to play.
At some point, as Paul and Clément were playing, Ange suddenly got up from his towel and looked at them.
"I'm going to get a coke from the beach-bar, you guys want something?" He asked.
"Yeah, get us a coke as well. My wallet is in my bag." Paul answered to which Ange responded by giving him the middle finger.
The suggestion that you needed your friend's money to buy them something was very insulting to most people living in Corsica, and even though it was appropriate for Paul to suggest that he was going to pay for it, it would have been outrageously shameful for Ange to accept.
"You're coming with me?" He then asked while turning to me with a mischievous expression.
I raised my eyebrow before smiling back at him knowingly.
"Sure!"
Clément and Paul didn't bat an eye, way too engrossed into their beach racket match to even care, as I walked away with Ange.
We didn't talk at all, but when he walked past the beach bar towards the rocky bush at the end of the beach, I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. My heart was beating fast, realising that this would be the moment I would turn my teenage fantasy into reality.
Ange climbed the rocks, and I followed through until he stopped into a clear space between trees. We could still see the beach around us, but we were far away from any path that we would be safe from unwanted eyes.
He smirked at me and, without even opening his mouth, put his hands on my shoulders to intimate me to get to my knees.
I gulped, plunging my gaze into his while complying and placing my face in front of his beach shorts. I was breathing heavily, sweat pearling on my temple and my hands getting shaky.
I hooked my fingers into his waistband and lowered his shorts, revealing a huge semi-hard uncut cock that bounced up and down as I pulled his trunk to his ankles. Looking up for his approval, I placed my hand around his shaft and got closer, smelling the sea salt on his crotch as well as his manly scent that drove me mad with lust.
I sighed with pleasure before my agape lips touched the tip of his dick, smearing precum on them and filling my nose with his most primitive smell.
I dropped a kiss on his dick, wrapping my hands around his large low hanging balls, before opening my mouth and engulfing a few centimetres of his dick at once.
Ange let his head fall back and gasped with pleasure as I rolled my tongue around his shaft and inside of his foreskin, placing his hand on the back of my head to guide me. As for me, I was in a trance as I was giving my very first blowjob.
It was even better than I had expected, and the Gods knows I had been jerking off for years imagining a moment like this.
Moaning like the whore that I was, I bobbed up and down Ange's large cock while my right hand was caressing his ball sack. I gagged a little, but not as badly as I had expected, considering how easily my toothbrush triggers me, and kept taking him deeper and deeper into my throat.
"Fuck..." He moaned hoarsely. "You're good! You've done that before?"
Not wanting to make this awkward, I nodded yes, not wanting to look like the fucking virgin I was despite all my friends having already lost theirs already.
I was after all, one of his best friends' baby brother, but certainly didn't want to look like the clueless kid Clément must have had depicted me as.
I resumed sucking his dick with energy, letting his heavy cock fill my whole mouth and rest over my eager tongue. Fuck, he tasted and smelled good, and I was intoxicated by him.
"Where do you want me to cum?" He asked me, panting.
"Wherever you want." I answered with a submissive sly smile after getting his cock out of my mouth with a loud pop.
"Keep your whore's mouth wide open then!" He answered with a deep dominant voice.
Playfully, I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, looking like an absolute himbo slut, bringing Ange to the edge as he kept furiously jerking off in front of my hungry face.
In a roar, he exploded and spurted ropes after ropes over my cheeks and into my mouth, some of it dropping from my chin while I loudly moaned, tasting another guy's cum for the first time ever.
When he was done, he took a step back, catching up on his breath and wiping his sweaty forehead with his arm, the sun roasting us like Sunday chickens.
I pulled his swimming trunks up before getting up myself, looking back at him with an amused smile. He chuckled at me and grabbed my face with his large hands before dropping a playful peck on my lips.
"You fucking whore!" He joked before slapping my ass, not realising he just gave me my first kiss ever.
I chuckled too and he winked at me before turning around and leading us outside of the maquis.
On our way back to our spot, Ange grabbed four coke cans at the beach-bar and threw them at Clément and Paul as they walked out of the water.
"Damn, you were away long enough!" Paul exclaimed as he opened his can.
Ange shrugged casually, not even bothering to come up with an excuse, before drinking the last gulps of his can and running to the water. I shot a nervous glance at my brother, but he seemed unphased, completely oblivious to what just happened between one of his best friends and me.
The rest of the afternoon was pretty uneventful, and when Ange drove us back home, I left my mind race to all the possibilities this afternoon was offering me. I kept thinking about Ange, stealing discreet glances whenever I felt it was safe to, and realised I started having a crush on him.
"Next time, Clem, don't be a little bitch about it and bring your brother along!" Ange told my brother with a playful wink in front of our house before driving away, leaving me with a warm feeling inside and a desire to jump around the place with joy.
"How was it?" Mom asked us with a hopeful tone as we walked into the living room where she was watching the Tour de France on the television.
"Fine." Clément answered. "They seem to have liked him."
"Don't act so surprised!" I shot back, annoyed at my brother for being back to his old self after having acting cordial towards me in front of his friends.
"Max!" Mom scolded me before turning to my brother. "You see? I told you it was no big deal!" She told him as he rolled his eyes and walked to his bedroom with an annoyed face.
In the coming days, every time my brother went to the beach with his friends, I bugged him to tag along, and was faced with an excuse as to why I couldn't every time as well.
Either there wasn't space left for me in the car, or they would be renting a boat and he wouldn't pay for my sport, or some other lie he could invent whenever I asked.
I knew I could have made mom intervene in all that and force Clément to let me tag along, but I also knew it would make me look like a whiny baby. I didn't really care about going to the beach with my brother, it was pretty clear he didn't want me there and it wasn't my type to go where I wasn't wanted, but I was desperate to see Ange again.
I just couldn't keep him out of my mind and would have done anything to see him again. After more than 10 days of trying to convince my brother, I spied his social media accounts and found Ange's profile before adding him on Instagram.
I was a nervous wreck, worried about looking too needy and ruining my chances with him. I needed to look mature enough to his eyes, but I just couldn't take the wait anymore.
"What's up?" He texted me after I had added him.
"I can't wait to see you again!" I answered impulsively before cursing myself for being so fucking cheesy.
"Why don't you join us to the beach this afternoon, I'm sure we can find some time to reiterate our little `alone time' ;-)."
"Really? Are you sure?"
"Sure! I'll pick your brother in about an hour, just tag along."
I jumped from my bed, my heart pounding in my chest as I felt a rush of excitement. I practically ran to my brother's room before energetically knocking at his door.
"Yeah?" He answered nonchalantly from the other side.
"Hey. I was thinking of going to the beach today, can I tag along with you?" I cautiously asked as I walked into his room.
Clément was lying on his stomach, a cushion under his chin, his eyes glued to his smartphone and a fan directed at him. He turned to look at me with annoyance in his eyes before sighing and looking back at his phone.
"We're going to the river today, sorry." He brushed off.
"That's fine, I don't mind either." I answered, feeling my stomach knotting with frustration with his fucking lies.
"Nah, sorry, the car is full." He persisted, making me shake my head with disgust at his behaviour towards me.
"Why are you like this with me?" I asked calmy with a hint of exasperation. "You said it yourself; your friends liked me, so why don't you let me tag along?"
Clément turned to me with irritation and shot me a look that told me he wasn't amused and would have rather me to fuck off back into my room.
"Yeah, so what? They are MY friends, why do you even want to spend time with us? You have your own friends to go to the beach with!" He answered with disdain. "Besides, I told you there is no more room in the car. Why don't you just call Yanis and go to the beach with him?"
I looked back at him and all the frustration and the anger I had accumulated every time Clément turned me down burst in me. The fact that I knew from Ange that he was lying to my fucking face triggered something in me, and I just snapped.
"Why don't you grow some fucking balls and tell me the truth for once?" I retorted while raising my voice. "What have I fucking done that you feel like you have to treat me like SHIT?" I screamed, getting my brother to look back at me with utter surprise. "Fuck you! I don't want to spend a single more minute with you before you go back to university!" I added, storming out of his room and slamming the door behind me.
I was filled with rage and couldn't bear staying home with this asshole, so I just quickly grabbed my stuff and got out of the house, walking in the street towards the port.
I eventually reached the tiny lighthouse that signalled the exit of the port and sat on the stone steps with my back against it. I sighed heavily, trying to get my nerves to calm down.
I couldn't bear how Clément treated me like an annoying little kid. I didn't realise to which extent he actually disliked spending time with me until I tried to convince him to let me tag along, but now that I did, it made me feel so low, somehow reminding me of these kids that only saw in me a Pinzutu and avoided me like the plague.
Being rejected had been the story of my life so far, and although I tried to pretend it didn't affect me, it very much did, especially when it came from my own brother. Well, he could go fuck himself, I wasn't going to grovel to have the privilege of spending some time with him.
I got my phone out of my pocket and texted Yanis, letting him know that I was at the lighthouse and that he could come and join me if he wanted to.
Thankfully he wasn't long to answer and arrived a few minutes later with two little bottles of Ice-tea before sitting next to me.
I smiled at him, feeling relieved already by his presence next to me, and we started talking.
"So, what's up?" He asked me with a kind smile after a few minutes talking. "You seem a bit off today."
I looked back at him with a worried expression before quickly turning my gaze away.
"Oh... hm... nothing." I answered evasively. "I just got into an argument with my brother, he's been a jerk to me."
"Really? How?" Yanis asked me with a frown.
"It's nothing, really." I answered with a timid smile, not knowing how to explain it considering Ange and my feelings for him were at the centre of this story.
"I see." Yanis answered with a pensive pout. He looked in front of him, his gaze deep into the horizon, and seemed to think about something. "You know, we used to tell each other everything, but you've been very secret lately." He eventually told me without even looking at me.
"Yanis, I..."
"No, it's okay, I understand." He continued, interrupting me. "I think I must have done something, at some point, to lose your trust." He added, making my stomach knot with guilt.
"No! Never!" I vigorously protested.
"I just want you to know that you can trust me again, if you want, and that I will be here for you." He finished with a sad smile.
I didn't know what to say, I wanted to tell him that I trusted him with my life, which was true, but I couldn't tell him I trusted him with my secrets, because that would have been a lie.
It hit me like a ton of bricks that, wanting to protect our relationship from the possibility of him rejecting me, I was actually the one destroying it. I looked back at him for a moment, letting the internal turmoil calm down and pondering my options here.
I think he saw something in my eyes, because his expression turned somehow worried, noticing something was wrong. I sighed heavily, preparing myself for what I was about to say, my heart beating faster with every second that passed.
"You are right." I confessed before closing my eyes for a second. "There is something I didn't tell you." I added before gulping, feeling so nervous that I could have thrown up at any point.
"About ten days ago, I went to the beach with my brother and his friends. Amongst them was a guy called Ange, and I noticed from the start the way he looked at me, with... with desire, and lust." I started, Yanis looking back at me expectantly with a confused frown. "At some point, I accompanied him to the beach-bar and he took me to the maquis where we..." I continued, feeling like spitting the words would rip my mouth off. "We had sex."
Yanis looked at me with a horrified expression, his mouth agape with surprise, his eyes lost in the emptiness while trying to make sense of what he heard. I was impatiently looking at him, waiting for the shit to hit the fan.
"He raped you?" He asked me with stupor.
"What?" I exclaimed suddenly. "No! No, he didn't, I wanted it!" I promptly specified, wondering how he could have understood this from my story. "In fact, I think I like him." I added in a murmur, looking at my best friend with apprehension.
Then, he gave me a look that I will remember for the rest of my life. It was filled with disgust and horror, and I suddenly realised what was happening.
"You're a fucking fag?" He spat out, raising his voice with anger.
"I'm gay, yes." I answered, shattered inside but standing my ground.
"This is disgusting!" Yanis exclaimed while getting up and stepping away from me, as if I had told him I had the plague or something. "How can you say that to me?"
"So much for being here for me." I underlined while shaking my head with despise.
"No, no, you can't put that on me! You can't ask me to tolerate... this." He retorted while looking at me up and down with pure repulsion. "A fucking fag? And you said you were my friend? God... fuck... you lied to me."
"Watch your mouth!" I warned him with a stern tone, my fist clenching in growing rage.
"Get away from me, I don't want to talk to you ever again!" He lamented while hyperventilating.
"Fine!" I snapped before turning away and walking back toward the port. I turned around once more, looking at him with pure disappointment and shook my head with a snort. "You know, I always thought that you were very different from how people see you, but now I realise I was wrong." I concluded before leaving him for good.
I walked back home with a furious desire to burn everything to the ground, a mixt of rage and despair twirling inside of me. When I reached home, I rushed to my room and collapsed headfirst over my mattress.
I screamed into my pillow for a few minutes before bawling like a baby. My mother would tell me that real men don't cry, but at that moment I was way past the point of being able to contain it. I uncontrollably sobbed, my nose running like crazy, realising that I had in one single day lost both Clément and Yanis.
I was a fucking freak, and if even people closest to me realised it, then there was no way it wasn't true. I felt like the only comfort I could get in this moment would be to fucking die. I wanted it to happen at that point, as I felt more rejected that I had ever been in my life.
The look that Yanis gave me, it gave me chills, it made me sick. I was disgusted with myself, more than I could bear, and I cried myself to sleep. I woke up a couple of hours later, when someone knocked at my door.
"What?" I answered moodily.
Clément peaked his head through the frame, looking at me before I quickly turned my head away, feeling anger rise in me at the very sight of his stupid face.
"Dad said that diner was served." My brother announced.
"I'm not hungry." I curtly answered, trying to convey as much disdain as I could in my short answer.
"Ok." He answered before closing the door behind him.
My chest was rising with every breath I took, wanting to punch a wall to oblivion, hating myself and the world around me to the point where it overwhelmed all my senses. I urgently needed to let off some steam but couldn't simply go out without telling my parents where I was going.
The last thing I wanted was for them, or anyone for that matter, to ask me where I was going or what the matter was with me. I didn't feel like I could take it without snapping.
I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to calm myself down, to no avail. I lied down on my side, facing the wall, my back to the door, my eyes wide open, thinking everything that happened that day over and over, blaming myself for the outcome with every time more self-inflicted cruelty.
"Leave me alone!" I barked at the door when I heard a second knock.
My father walked in, a concerned expression on his face. I quickly straightened up on my bed, my puffy red eyes giving my emotional state away.
"Sorry, I thought it was Clément." I apologised with a dark tone.
"Are you saying that speaking to your brother on that tone would be okay?" Dad asked me with a calm but judgmental tone. I shook my head and grinded my teeth, looking away with irritation, and my father immediately noticed my unusual hostile behaviour. "Is there something wrong between the two of you?"
"There is strictly nothing between the two of us. Nothing wrong, nothing good, just an absolute emotionless indifference." I answered fatefully.
My father chuckled, triggering an offended stare from me, before patting my thigh fatherly.
"You know, despite what you told her, I know you'd be just as good as a lawyer as your mother. You have her... theatricality and talent to make things sound more dramatic than they are." He told me with a mischievous smile.
"I'm not making things more dramatic than they are. Clément has been treating me like crap for years, and I just had enough of it."
"And that's to your credit. Have you made him aware of how you feel?" Dad asked me with a deep voice.
"I think I made my point, yes." I replied as Dad chuckled again before shaking his head with amazement.
"Well, good. Then just promise me one thing."
"Yes?" I asked with a frown.
"When your brother will decide that he wants to mend the relation he damaged with you, don't let your pride prevent you from accepting the steps he makes, however clumsy they might be." Dad said with his gaze deeply plunged in mine.
"Okay..." I answered, still not convinced that Clément would ever want to mend a relation that he never cared about in the first place.
"Now, that's not actually what I came to talk to you about." He added with a smile. "Yanis is downstairs, he wants to talk to you."
"I don't want to see him." I immediately replied, feeling a sudden pit in my stomach.
"Okay, but you will have to tell him yourself." Dad answered me with a fatherly tone.
"No, Dad, you don't understand!" I answered, my face twisting in anger and resentment. "I don't want to see his face ever again!"
"Whatever happened between the two of you, I'm not sending my son's sobbing best friend away myself." Dad insisted calmly but firmly.
"Sobbing?" I repeated with a concerned frown. Trying to make sense of that information that, somehow, managed to unsettle me enough to trigger warry for Yanis despite the overwhelming resentment I had for him.
Dad nodded, confirming his words, and I sighed before giving a quick nod too. I was feeling dizzy at the idea of facing Yanis but, since I had to, I would do it with dignity.
I got up from my bed, took a deep breath and, mechanically, walked my way downstairs to the main door. When I opened it, keeping my composure intact and my expression emotionless, I was greeted with the sight of tears running from Yanis handsome reddened eyes to his flushed cheeks. He looked miserable, and despite feeling a deep ache into my heart at this vision, I had to act tough after the words he threw to my face a few hours earlier.
"Yes, what do you want?" I asked disdainfully.
"Max... I... I just wanted to..."
"Just say whatever you need to and leave!" I snapped sternly while raising my voice.
"Ok, but please listen to me, and then I'll leave." Yanis answered pleadingly, his gaze fixed on me as my resolve melted away.
I sighed with displeasure, raising my arm and looking at my watch before rolling my eyes, giving him an act of insufferable haughtiness and pretending he wasn't worth the time he was taking me.
"Well, go on then." I said, staring at him harshly.
"Do you remember Batti Luciani? From middle school? He used to be so nasty to us both, calling us names behind our back and pretending we smelled bad whenever we were around. He always had so many friends around him, and his older cousin was protecting him, he was basically untouchable." Yanis recalled while looking at me intensely, his gaze deep and frail.
"Damn, this guy was a fucking jerk to us, but he hated me most. He hated Arabs so fucking much, and never missed an opportunity to speak his mind about it. One day, as we were waiting in the line for the refectory, he passed right in front of us, pushing me and saying that `Musgingatu like you shouldn't be allowed to eat before real Corsicans.'." Yanis continued. I vaguely remembered the story, but not as vividly as he seemed to, this anecdote sounding like about a hundred others we lived to me.
"I was mad, but I was used to it, his friends were around him, there was nothing we could really do as the school administration was always having his back. Then you looked at him and told him that `Looking at your face, I can tell that your bloodline is a little too pure. Maybe if your family considered mixing their blood, they wouldn't have had retard inbreds like you!'. He was mad, and speechless, but you took this opportunity to take my arm and push him away, retaking our spot in front of him in the line." He concluded before shaking his head with disbelief.
"You're right; most people see me as a Musgingatu, a half breed, good enough only to mop their marble floors and clean their porcelain toilets. You were never afraid to stand up to them, especially when I was not feeling legitimate to do it myself. You gave me more confidence than anyone else, accepted me as I was from the very start when everyone told you that you were worth more than me."
I looked at him, letting my guard down and letting some sadness show through my eyes, my heart pounding hard against my ribcage and my throat feeling suddenly tight.
"You stood by my sides in my darkest moments and when, after I told you that you could trust me, you found the courage to finally come out to me, I failed you." Yanis uttered as fresh tears poured down his cheeks. "I fucked it up! I ruined the best thing I ever had in my life! I'm so sorry Max! So fucking sorry!" He concluded between sobs.
I couldn't take it anymore, I gulped and stepped out of the house, right in front of him under the porch. Suddenly, Yanis took me in his arms, crying like a baby, and held me tight.
My heart melted and I wrapped my arms around him, my eyes getting watery as I pressed my head against his chest.
"You didn't ruin it, Yanis." I managed to faintly mutter. "I will always be here for you. I am still your best friend, if you want me to."
"Fuck, Max." Yanis muffled voice answered as we were still tightly hugging. "I promise I will be better. I promise I will never let you down again!"
"Yanis, you bloody idiot!" I laughed tenderly after breaking the hug and wiping my tears with the back of my hand.
"Look at me." Yanis answered with a chuckle, pointing at his puffy humid eyes. "You've been gay for five hours and you already managed to make a guy cry!" He teasingly added, making me laugh at his goofiness.
"I'll let that one slide!"
"Let's have a walk, okay?" Yanis suggested with a smile. "Actually, let me invite you for an ice cream at `La Canne à Sucre'." He added, mentioning my favourite ice cream place on the port and making me perk up.
"Let me tell my parents first though." I accepted with a wide smile.
"And as for me, I will take a Citadelle, thank you." I told the waiter as we were seated around the table at the Canne à Sucre.
"Very well, Sir." The waiter answered before taking his leave with a polite smile.
I looked at Yanis, feeling more relaxed and serene as I had been for as long as I can remember. It felt as this big fight between my best friend and I had been a reset of our dying relationship, and that I finally felt that I was able to invest myself fully back into it.
"There is something I need to tell you." Yanis eventually told me after our ice-creams had arrived.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I was about to tell you before, you know... the other thing came up."
"Before you called me a disgusting faggot?" I asked with a provocative smile.
"Damn, headfirst into it, as usual!" He answered with an embarrassed chuckle. "Yeah, well, before that."
"What is it then?" I encouraged with a laugh. Yanis grinned at me and snorted with amusement.
"I signed up to join the rugby team."
"You did what?" I answered with wide eyes.
"I knew you would react this way!" Yanis laughed before eating a large spoon of ice cream.
"Why would you do such a thing?"
"Because I've always loved rugby?" He suggested with an amused look.
"So what? If you want to join a club just join me at the sailing club, it would be way nicer, and you wouldn't have to be surrounded by unsufferable twats!" I vehemently said, looking at him as if he were completely dumb.
"But this rugby that I love, not sailing." Yanis insisted.
"You realise that it is not rugby that is bugging me, right?" I specified with a condescending tone. "But rather the fact that the greatest and mightiest families, with the purest possible Corsican blood, all put their kids into the rugby team because, somehow, they decided that football was too lower-class for people of such superior race."
"There are a ton of French guys like you in the team as well, Max." Yanis underlined while raising his eyebrows.
"But they are not in charge there!" I exclaimed vigorously. "And there is not a single member of the team that is not 100% white!"
"I thought I was more than a fucking Musgingatu to you." He answered, looking offended for the first time since we started this conversation. I sighed, definitely not wanting to sound inconsiderate, even though I hated this rugby team with all my guts.
"You are not, to me. But you know that's not true for a good number of your teammates, right?" I added with a softer tone.
"Max, I know. And I also know you just want to protect me from giving them more opportunities to bully me, but I'm done with this life." Yanis said with a faint smile. "I'm done being an outcast, done being told where I belong and where I don't. I love rugby, and I won't let a bunch of racist jerks tell me I shouldn't join because they don't want to share a locker room with me. Tell me you understand, Max."
I took a deep breath and looked at my best friend's face. Of course, as usual, he made more sense than me. More than once, I left my absolute contempt for these assholes cloud my judgment and Yanis, being from a Corsican mother, had always been more temperate.
"You know I will always have your back and support you." I finally answered with a serious tone. "Even when you make terribly ill-judged decision like this one!" I added, smirking slyly. "And don't expect me to pull with any of your teammates' bullshit too!"
"About that." Yanis answered with a mischievous grin. "I think we're going to find out sooner that you'd thought what they are actually like."
"Oh?"
"Bastien is throwing a party Saturday for his 18th birthday. He invited me, and I convinced him to extend the invitation to you as well." Yanis announced with an evil smirk.
"Tell me you're joking!"
"I'm not."
"How did you even manage to convince him? Damn, Yanis, please don't make me come! I hate them all!"
"You're coming whether you like it or not!" Yanis answered with a resolute, playful tone. "It wasn't hard to convince him, you're not nearly as hated as you'd like to believe!"
I sighed, knowing that Yanis wouldn't let me skip this party. In a sense, I think I would feel better joining him, knowing I would be here for him if thing turned sour.
Bastien seemed like an okay guy, but I had absolutely no trust in some of the guys from the team, and especially the three most notorious players: Ugo Bartoli, Gianlucca Giovannoni and, of course, Antonu Colonna d'Istria.
I had been unfortunate enough to go to the same middle school as Ugo, and he always had been a jerk towards me. I had a big mouth that put him back to his place, and he certainly didn't enjoy that.
After some heated words that ended up with us two almost fighting one another, Ugo avoided me and stuck with shooting me stares full of contempt whenever we passed by one another.
I had never been in direct contact with Gianlucca and Antonu, even though we were of the same age and attended the same (and only, actually) high school, but I knew how much of a bully they had been to other students, especially if they happened to be of the wrong skin colour or, the Gods forbid, seemingly of the wrong sexuality.
High school wasn't middle school though and, thankfully, neither the administration nor most other students tolerated these behaviours, so they had to be more sneaky and stick to being passive aggressive, making sure that their targets were ostracised from any normal social life, leaving them isolated and vulnerable to all the kind of nasty gossips that they liked to spread through their faithful friends and the bunch of superficial bitches that worshiped the ground they walked on.
Damn, I despised them.
Yanis was the only person that had the power to convince me to be cordial to them, and Zeus knows it was certainly not for their sakes that I would.
When I walked back home after sharing an ice cream with Yanis, I was feeling lighter than a feather. I pushed the main door with a joyful mood and walked upstairs with a smile on my face.
As I was about to open my bedroom door though, my fingers wrapped around the handle, Clément stepped out of the bathroom. Our gazes met and, for a second, it felt like he was about to say something.
I didn't care though, and I knew it would be a platitude to make me feel like everything was back to normal between us, so I quickly walked into my room and closed the door behind me.
I didn't want Clément to pretend everything was back to normal, because I didn't want things to go back to how they were before today between him and I.
He needed to understand that I wasn't going to put up with his attitude, that I was not willing to be pushed away and that if what he wanted was to keep me at a safe distance and playing it cordial in front of the parents, then I wouldn't play his game anymore.
A harsh truth is better than a sweet lie, and if Clément didn't appreciate me as his brother, then, I would stop letting him pretend that he did.
As I laid in my bed, I picked my phone and realised I had an unread message from Ange. I smiled from ear to ear when I opened it.
"You didn't join us today; your new friend was disappointed." He texted, accompanied with a picture of his rock-hard cock. I chuckled to myself, finding it ridiculous that he would call his dick my `new friend'.
I quickly undressed, throwing my clothes on the floor next to the bed neglectingly, before lying on my stomach. I then turned the camera into selfie mode and raised the phone so I could take a picture of my face that revealed my back and two round butt cheeks, my legs widely spread and my feet in the air.
"Sorry about that, my brother and I got into a fight." I texted back with my nude.
"Yeah, he was mad at me when I told him that you texted me and that I invited you."
"That's alright, thank you for exposing this lying asshole to me." I texted back with another chuckle.
"Does it mean that I won't be able to get you to take care of my needs in the future? :-(."
"I mean... you have a car, and I have a lot of free time." I texted back with another picture of my perky ass arched up in the air.
"Damn! I will remember that, you know?" He threatened me playfully.
"I hope so!" I texted before turning my phone off and getting ready for bed.
The whole week went out in a flash and, when Saturday finally arrived, I woke up apprehensive about what tonight's party would be like. I was about to walk into the living room when, from the other side of the door, I heard my mother and Clément argue.
First, I just stopped to spy a little, being my usual noisy self, and then I realised that they were talking about me.
"I just don't understand why you are being so unreasonable!" Mom exclaimed.
"I am the one being unreasonable?" My brother retorted in an angry voice. "Max is literally throwing a tantrum because I won't take him with me everyday at the beach and I'm the unreasonable one? Why do you always take his side?"
"The problem is that you never take his side!"
"Oh, okay, now I'm a bad guy because I won't give in every time he's throwing a fit." Clément retorted with a sarcastic voice.
"When was the last time you gave in to any of your brother's requests? Actually, when was the last time Max asked you anything?"
"Literally ten days ago, when I took him to the beach!"
"No, that was at my request, not Max's."
"Well, that's damn practical isn't it, when you've got someone making demands in your stead!"
"Listen, honey, you're the one throwing a tantrum here. You said it yourself; your friends didn't mind when you brought him. Apparently, it's important to him, and you really shouldn't need me to remind you what your role as a big brother implies!"
"Remind me, when did I applied for this role, exactly?"
"Tough luck! Now stop whining and let your brother know he's coming with you to the beach today!"
I darted away from the door and tiptoed my way back to my bedroom, quickly throwing myself on the bed with a book in hand to pretend I was totally oblivious to what had just been discussed between Mom and Clément.
A few minutes later, my brother came knocking at my door as expected.
"Yes?"
"Hey." Clément told me while he walked into the room, not getting much further than the door frame and not looking exactly thrilled. The little shit didn't even have the decency to pretend he was happy to invite me to spend the day with him. "The guys and I are going to the beach today, and there is a spot available in Ange's car, so you can tag along with us."
"No, thank you." I answered straight away, not diverting my gaze from the book I was pretending to read.
"No?" Clément repeated with a tone that combined surprise and annoyance. "You have something else planned?"
"Not really. I just don't want to spend the day with you."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Clément retorted with growing irritation. "You bugged me the whole week to be allowed to come with me to the beach, you went to complain to mommy and daddy like the fucking baby you are and now that you've got what you wanted and made me look like the bad guy, you just decided that you didn't want to go anyway?"
"I didn't complain about anything to anyone. Dad asked me what was wrong between us and I told him I was tired of you treating me like shit, I guess Mom just connected the dots when Dad told her." I explained calmly, still not dignifying his presence with my gaze.
"Treating you like shit? Because I just want some time alone with my friends?" Clément repeated with a baffled tone. "You have no idea what being treated like shit is, you're just a spoiled kid that is way too accustomed to have what he wants and get absolutely mad when I dare disobey."
I slammed my book closed and suddenly got out of my bed, walking right in front of my brother with a stern face.
"For as long as I can remember, you've always pretended that I didn't exist, that I didn't matter to you. I always blamed myself for this, thinking that I must have had been too immature, that you were in a category higher than mine, that I was just too boring for you." I started, looking him in the eye with resolve. "Since you left for university, I never get to see you or spend time with you again and, whenever you come back for the weekend, you spend all your time with your friends. When I spent the day with you at the beach, I just realised it was a shame we didn't spend more time together. Is that what a tantrum is? Wanting to spend some time with your older brother?" I asked with a deep reproachful tone.
Clément looked back at me with a mix of confusion and irritation, visibly unsettled by my little tirade but yet unable to find anything to say that would make sense, as I took the battle into a field he didn't think about before.
"You're not a bad brother, Clément, you're not a brother at all. On the top of my head, I can name about a hundred people that care more about me than you do, and most of them don't even know my name." I concluded calmly, not breaking eye contact.
I could tell I struck a chord, because his mean expression actually broke and for a second, I was able to see that he seemed deeply offended about my remark.
"Can you even hear yourself, Max?" Clément answered, flabbergasted. "How can you even formulate such a thought just from me not taking you to the beach?"
"Maybe if were able to see the bigger picture for once I..."
"Okay, Max, let's look at the bigger picture then." Clément interrupted me with a pissed off look on his face. "Have you ever told me that you wanted to spend more time with me before today? Can you name, on the top of your head as you said so nicely, an occasion where I turned down your offer to spend some time together except in this beach context?"
"That's not even my point." I answered, trying to play tough but knowing I was starting to lose the argument.
"Do you even care about how it makes me feel when my baby brother tells me that he can `name a hundred people that care more about you than I do.'? You like to think that you're so smart, and yet you couldn't come to any other technique to get me to spend more time with you than to guilt trip me into it?"
"I'm just speaking my mind with honesty. I'm not trying to disguise the truth to make you feel better about it." I retorted, getting frustrated at his reaction for some reason.
He shook his head with disbelief, looking back at me as if trying to assert if I was being serious or not.
"Max, I want you to apologise for what you said to me."
"What?" I responded with utter shock. "You want me to apologise for speaking my mind?"
"No, not because you spoke your mind, because you pretended to speak MY mind."
"Are you going to deny it, then? That you don't give a shit about me?" I snapped, trying to find a way out of this trap he was setting for me where he would unescapably retake the advantage.
"I would give you an answer if you dared asking me the question, but that's not what you did. You TOLD me how I felt, you didn't ASK." He insisted with a fatherly tone that I particularly disliked. "So, now, please apologise. Or is it to low for you to recognise your own mistakes when you spend your time asking others to do so?"
"Fine!" I eventually conceded with irritation. "I'm sorry for the way I phrased my sentence. It wasn't philosophically correct of me to assume that I was capable of asserting your mind, even with strong evidence supporting my statement." I added with obvious bad faith. Clément chuckled nervously, obviously not amused with my arrogance.
"So humbly said, as usual." My brother retorted, making me pout with frustration, knowing he was right. "Now, since you've been mature enough to apologise, I will return the favour." He announced, piquing my curiosity.
"Max, I am really sorry if I made you feel like I didn't care about you. Surprisingly, and despite the strong evidence that you gathered from your impressively selective memory, I do care about you, even when you bug the shit out of me."
I snorted, playing like I didn't believe him but still feeling warm inside hearing these words getting out of his mouth. He would never admit it, of course, but without me manipulating him into saying them through guilt, he simply would have never uttered these words.
It was he, after all, that made me feel down and rejected after lying to me to avoid spending time together.
"If you say so." I simply answered, triggering a sigh of annoyance from him.
"Would you please get ready and come with us at the beach, then?" He reiterated his question, believing he would get a different answer this time.
"No." I answered, turning away and walking back to my bed.
"Seriously, Max?" He challenged me with disbelief, crossing his arms in front of his chest with an impatient stare.
"Clem, it's not that. I have a party tonight, and I know I will be wasted if I join you guys to the beach." I explained with a faint smile.
"Oh okay, so you really made me lose my time and literally called me the worst brother on earth for nothing." He exclaimed with discontent.
"I know you don't believe me, but you really did make me feel like I was worth nothing to you. You lied to my face to avoid me going to the beach with you when your own friends told me that I was welcome to join. I'm sorry for calling you a bad brother, I really am, but please don't act like you didn't play a part in me feeling that way either." I told him with a calmer tone, not trying to start our argument all over again, but still feeling like he shouldn't get away with it too easily as well.
Clément sighed heavily and looked back at me with guilt. Was I feeling bad about it? Not in the slightest! I was relieved. I wanted him to feel guilty for the way he had treated me, or at least a little remorseful. I guess you could say that I am a little fucked up, but to me this was a bigger proof that he actually cared than all of his words combined.
"It won't happen again; you have my word."
Sometime in the afternoon, I went to the haute-ville, (literally the high-town or acropolis), to buy a gift for Bastien's birthday. I had no idea what this guy might like, not really knowing him besides the couple of chats I had with him in the past.
After buying him some generic bullshit, I walked back home in the burning sun. I was sweating like a pig and practically ran to take a cold shower once arrived.
It was almost 21h when Yanis' mother pulled out in front of my home. The sun still wouldn't set for another hour, and I rushed outside, carrying Bastien's gift in a small package in my hands.
"Good evening Mrs. El Adjaoui." I greeted joyfully while taking place on the backseat.
"How are you doing sweetie?" She answered with a bright smile before starting the car.
"It's so hot today!"
"Bastien's got a swimming pool, don't worry." Yanis interjected with a mischievous smile.
Of course Bastien had a swimming pool, probably twice the size of an Olympic one too. He was one of the rare Pinzutu in Porto-Vecchio to be as rich as the traditional pure-blooded Corsican families.
His mother inherited one of France's biggest cosmetics companies and, as far as I knew, Bastien didn't know who his father was, Ms. Lorpaillet being notorious for dating toyboys whose age Bastien was getting dangerously close to.
Naturally, if Ms. Lorpaillet had been a man, no one would have really noticed, since she would have been hardly an exception in Porto-Vecchio, but that's another subject.
Bastien's house was on the hills of Marina Di Fiori, a rich neighbourhood (like 90% of the city's neighbourhoods actually) that overlooked the Gulf of Porto-Vecchio.
After thanking Yanis' mother for the ride and listening to all her warnings and recommendations for the party, we finally rang at the gates.
We could hear the loud music from where we were already, and I was getting nervous. I could tell Yanis was a little uneasy too, most likely getting anxious about fucking up his first party with his new teammates.
I put my hand on his shoulder and winked at him, reminding him that we were in this together, and that I would have his back no matter what.
"Hey guys!" A voice exclaimed, making me jump with surprise. Bastien was walking towards us with a smile on his face. He opened the gate and Yanis gave him a bro kind of ridiculous high-five that made my eyes roll.
We walked inside of the house where the party was raging. The air conditioning had been put to the max but the massive glass-doors leading to the large terrasse overlooking the Gulf with the infinity pool were all open.
Some of Yanis' teammates noticed he had arrived and came to greet him. I shot him a knowing smile and a discreet nod before disappearing in the crowd. It was his moment, and I didn't want to ruin it by monopolising him and preventing other people from socialising with him.
I knew almost everyone at the party, having spent the two last years in the same high school, but not to the point of socialising with them. I only had a couple of friends, and they were way too marginalised to be invited to this kind of party. Some people gave me nods, acknowledging my presence cordially.
I got out and considered joining the few people that were currently swimming in the pool, but I first realised that I needed to pee pretty badly. There were a few people waiting to use the ground floor bathroom already but, considering the size of this mansion, there was no way they didn't have at least a couple more.
I got upstairs and, after opening a few doors, finally bumped into a large bathroom.
Inside, washing his hands facing the mirror and his back to me, was Antonu Colonna d'Istria. Prince of the high school, rugby team superstar and number one racist scum that believed in the purity of his bloodline.
Our gazes met through the mirror, and he gave me a condescending look that already started pissing me off.
"You're lost, or something?" He told me dismissively before grabbing a towel to dry his hands
"I guess I must be, if I'm bumping into you!" I answered dryly as he narrowed his eyes, gauging me menacingly before finally turning to face me.
"Should I know you?"
"No, I really don't think we should know each other." I answered while matching his cold stare.
Antonu looked back at me and raised his eyebrows before giving me a scoffing chuckle.
"Oh yeah, I think I remember." He eventually said, his gaze suddenly darkening. "You're that Pinzutu that befriended the Musgingatu that just joined the team."
I took a step closer to him, our faces millimetres from one another's, and gave him a little unamused smile.
"Be very careful with the words you use in front of me, honey. Your family's status doesn't mean shit to my eyes." I answered, lowering my voice in a threatening whisper with a sharp edge.
"Oh, he bites too!" Antonu mocked, locking his gaze in mine. "Are there any other things you can do with that pretty mouth?"
"I can't stop you from dreaming about whatever makes your... tiny pecker hard, can I?" I answered while shooting a provocative glance at his crotch with a contemptuous pout.
"Damn, Pinzutu! You know my name, my family, and even the size of my dick, apparently." Antonu answered with a low deep voice and a sneer. "Should I be flattered?"
I gave him a frigid smirk and approached my lips from his left ear.
"You should be on your guard." I threatened in a murmur. "Especially when it comes to how you treat my Musgingatu of a friend."
"I shall be very careful, then. One wouldn't like to provoke the wrath of such a tiny, insignificant yet shrewish creature." Antonu answered with a mocking smirk before suddenly pushing me aside and walk out of the bathroom.
Thank you for reading, you shall be rewarded with way more sexually explicit scenes in the future! Feel free to follow me on Instagram and send me a message if you liked the story : @Habsbourg.publications