Guiding Light belongs to Procter & Gamble and CBS. I don't own any of these characters and am making no money. Please don't read this if you aren't over 18 or the age of majority in your area. Don't archive or distribute this without asking me first.
I would, as always, really appreciate feedback, at knack6@hotmail.com . I know these aren't the lengthiest chapters, but I can only write when I have time.
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Tony's "popi" (God rest his soul) had always told Tony that he overreacted, he was too emotional. Tony knew he was right, but he also knew that if his father were with him right now, staring in the window, his eyes would be bugging out as wide as Tony's.
Marah "sweet virginal pure wonderful saint" Lewis had her head between Carmen "dragon lady nightmare bitch" Santos' legs, and was chowing down. Clenching his hands into fists, Tony prepared to break the glass and rescue the damsel in distress. Carmen forcing his Marah to commit such dirty acts against her will...
Then Tony noticed Marah's finger work inside her own panties; she was a very willing partner. She'd always been sorta hesitant around men, but...
"Is everybody in Springfield gay?", Tony muttered to himself.
He couldn't deal with this. She had been the victim, the innocent party, so many times in their relationship. Now she was...this was just too puzzling for Tony, and a little creepy to spy on his ex-girlfriend mowing the lawn of the town's mob mama. He decided to go find Danny. Hopefully, tomorrow, they could talk when Marah's mouth would already be occupied.
**
Shoes on the floor. Stretched out on the hotel room bed, Edmund stared at his scuffed black dress shoes, once immaculate and polished daily. How times had changed. From prince to boytoy for the Santos clan. Truly bizarre. Carmen hadn't called lately, and he didn't miss her, although he missed the cash payments. At their last "undercover" liasion, Richard and Edmund had discussed their similiar financial struggles. Wealthy for most of their lives, all they were left with was love and pain. Although, at least Richard had a home. Edmund had moved into Romeo's room, and while that was not the most physically unpleasant of situations, he feared for his oxygen supply in the middle of the night. Richard had warned him against dangerous men like Romeo, and Edmund could only smile and inhale his brother's throbbing length to remind him that he could take care of himself. Richard's concern was touching, but his royal custard, mixed with the sweat dripping from his meaty thighs, was far more appetizing.
Rubbing his rising crotch absent-mindedly, Edmund realized the pleasant aftereffects of his memory jog. He considered masturbation, until sharp pounds from the door nearly threw him off the bedspread. Edmund kept silent, mindful of goons with guns and possibly a badge (although he'd done nothing technically illegal...this week), and crouched at the side of the bed hidden from the door as the pounding turned to profanity.
"HOLY MOTHERSHIT!!!"
That very unShakespearelike vocabulary had to belong to Romeo. Edmund walked to the door and allowed entry for his younger, hotheaded roommate. Before he could even begin to ask what was wrong, he was slammed against a wall.
"You don't let me into MY own goddamn hotel room? I oughta..."
Arms roughly held above his head, knuckles scraping the wallpaper, Edmund had no choice but to observe the enraged, sweating, panting man in command of him. The mad fire ablaze in Romeo's beady brown eyes truly frightened Edmund. Every hot, incensed breath against his face reminded him that he barely knew this youth, knew nothing of the damage he could cause.
"This is YOUR fault, y'know. I had the perfect plan to get Danny. Now he knows, and he's got shit on us, so we can't do shit to him. That's all you do, is fuck shit up."
Edmund had been staring impassively, waiting for Romeo to cool down, but he had been plied with abuse for too many years to tolerate another dose, and he reflexively rolled his eyes.
"How eloquent."
Romeo stopped glaring, stopped fuming. The stillness was more frightening than the rage. Calm before the storm and all that. Edmund straightened his back, priming himself for a beating. To his surprise, Romeo dropped his guard, dropped Edmund's hands, and walked away, muttering to himself, turning his rage on himself. He paced in a small circle, his mumbles increasingly incoherent.
"I'm the one that did this. So stupid. Just like they said...everybody told me, y'know, but I don't listen cause I'm so dumb. I'm a failure. I had everything and I lost it. Failure, failure, failure, fuckfuckfuckfuck..."
After a few more minutes, Romeo stood still, in a world of his own, pounding the heel of his palm against his forehead. Over and over, until Edmund, at first grateful Romeo was ignoring him, stepped in. Whatever hatred this young man may have for him, he was not going to sit back and watch him draw blood. He grabbed Romeo's wirsts, with a tight grip which surprised them both.
"I'm not going to let you do this, Romeo. You are not worthless, and neither am I."
Struggling and squirming, Romeo spat at Edmund.
"The last thing I need right now is psychoanalysis from some psycho! You don't know me or my life, so shut the fuck up!!"
Edmund released his hold on the fighting man, only to grab his chin, forcing Romeo to fall into his hypnotic blue eyes.
"I know that if a few more people had done more than pummel us with their words and their fists, we wouldn't be quite so...as you Americans say...'screwed-up.' You are special, Romeo, and I'm going to tell you that whether or not you want to listen."
Romeo tensed, taking a partial step backward. What kind of mind game was this? For the second time that day, Romeo was blindsided. He could take almost any threat, any weapon, but not compliments or encouragement or whatever Edmund was offering.
"Get out," Romeo half-whispered, half-seethed, pointing at the door as he stared at the carpet, refusing to continue the eye contact.
Edmund glanced at the door, his refuge, his last chance to escape his good deed for the day.
"No," Edmund flatly stated, closing the space between him and Romeo to wrap the wiry man in his arms. Romeo squirmed, tried to push away the broad shoulders, pleading with Edmund to leave, pleading until Edmund found his lips. Romeo tilted his head, surrendering to Edmund's tongue, to the skillful fingers divesting him of his layers of silk and leather armor. Breaking their kiss to catch a breath, Edmund licked away the trace of saliva dangling from his lower lip, putting Romeo's hands on his chest. As Romeo kicked out of his shoes and socks, he stripped Edmund, bending down to kiss Edmund's beautiful penis as he removed the trousers and boxers draped at Edmund's feet.
Both men were naked now, truly seeing each other for the first time, exploring muscles and sinews with their curious hands. Romeo hadn't felt this vulnerable in too long to remember, but didn't want to stop. Laying on the sheets, bedspread decorating the floor, Romeo let his legs be draped over Edmund's shoulders, silent and whimpering as Edmund cleaned his insides with his magical, smooth tongue. His whimpers turned more husky as Edmund used their mixture of precum to lube himself, and entered Romeo's winking entrance, slowly, waiting for begs Romeo refused to concede to him. Finally, he shoved in, groaning with Romeo in unison as he filled the tight crevice. Their cries filled the air, their minds melded as their mouths joined, tongues duelling, Romeo fucking Edmund's tongue as Edmund fucked his ass. His hardness stabbed at Edmund's loose abs, his tight sac sweaty and slippery against the slightly lower sac slitering against it with each determined thrust.
There was no rush, no contest to see who was truly in charge. Edmund timed his thrusts, placing Romeo's hand on his balls, Romeo squeezing as both men stroked Romeo's board-breaking hard-on. Their climaxes were apart only by seconds, Romeo letting himself feel the varied sensations of semen erupting from and filling his body at the same time.
Edmund collapsed on top of him. Romeo stroked his hair as they kissed, a long, slow kiss, not their first, but in so many ways it felt like their first. Still inside Romeo, Edmund rested against his chest. Romeo looked down at Edmund, watching him go to sleep. This had not been fucking, or screwing, or just sex. They had made love. As he drifted to sleep, Romeo wondered what the consequences would be, and if he was prepared to face them.