Copyright 2021 -- Daemon D. Hart
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Prison Island
The island was the worst when it was raining. And it was a sign that the season was changing, which meant that soon, they wouldn't be enjoying as many sunny days as before. He was inside the hut with Mouse, and they were fucking slowly. The others were just as trapped as they were, and, most probably, they were doing the same thing.
Mouse kissed him as Francesco finished inside his ass. He abandoned this lover's warm arms to sit by the door and look outside.
"Not so much fun without television and internet and all that, right?" Mouse snickered behind him.
Francesco snorted. "That life's so far away I'm wondering if I didn't dream it or something."
"Not long until you'll get back to it."
Francesco turned and gave Mouse a sharp look. The redhead shrugged. "What? It's not forbidden to talk about it, right? You're the one sensitive about it, Kekko, not me."
"How will you even live here?"
"Hey, fucker, I'm the one keeping you all fed and everything. Without me, you would have been all dead in a week."
There was no reason to contradict Mouse. Even if they could have found methods to survive, it was true that Mouse's skills had come in handy a lot, making their lives a lot easier.
"It's not only about food and how to make soap. There are horrible people on this island."
"I know how to protect my hide, don't you worry about that."
Francesco walked over to Mouse and grabbed him by the shoulders. "How could I not worry? I'm not leaving you behind."
"You're not?" Mouse quirked his eyebrows.
"I don't want to."
Mouse caressed his face slowly. "I love you, Kekko. But once you get on that chopper, forget about me, okay?"
"What? The fuck you're saying?" Francesco couldn't hold his hurt in. He didn't want to.
Mouse's eyes were shiny and clear as he spoke. "Exactly what you just heard. Forget about me. Forget about this place. You belong there, not here. Not even with one single heartbeat, hear me?"
Francesco shook his head. He didn't want to cry in front of Mouse like that, not when he was the one with chances of getting back home. Mouse embraced him and together they stood like that.
"What is it?"
It took him a moment to realize that Mouse wasn't talking to him. He turned to see Karl in the door, the rain slushing down his wet clothes. There was something unreadable in his eyes. "Ty is sick. Mouse, come."
He turned without another word. Francesco moved after Mouse without being told.
The small hut in which Anya and Ty lived was packed with the entire group. Ty was lying on the makeshift bed, his body shaking with frissons. His skin was flushed and he didn't look good at all. Time and time again, he let out a hoarse, dry cough.
"Shit," Francesco said. "How can we get him warm?"
Mouse seemed to know what he was doing. He was already murmuring something while engaged in deep conversation with Anya. "We don't need everyone around here. You all just breathing his air."
Was it something that could be transmitted? Francesco wondered. "Can't we help?"
"I'll let you know," Mouse said. "Now go back, and we'll see."
Francesco sensed Karl following him through the rain and said nothing. He sat down and gestured for the other to join him.
"Why were you crying?" Karl asked.
"What?" Francesco shot back, pretending not to have heard that.
"Earlier. You were crying."
Francesco chose to remain silent.
"It's because of him, right?" Karl insisted. "You're just not letting go."
Francesco felt his stomach clenching. "What do you know?" he said through his teeth.
"I know enough. Dunno what you see in him. Is his ass that good?"
Francesco wasn't in the mood for that conversation, but it looked like Karl wanted to have it anyway. "He's giving me what you can't," he said.
"I can't let you fuck me, no way," Karl said harshly. "I'm the man."
"So you are," Francesco said tersely. "What do you want? A fucking medal?"
"No, Cesco. I want you to make up your fucking mind. Me or him?"
"What? Are you really asking me this?"
Karl faced him. He was leaning against the wall, but there was still enough light to see each other well enough. "Yeah, I am."
Francesco shook his head. "No," he said stubbornly.
"Well, you'll have to, anyway. He's here forever, you know?"
His head shot up at the cruelty. "I know," he said through his teeth.
Karl didn't appear surprised. "He told you? Of course he did. He knows you're a freaking bleeding heart."
Francesco closed his fists. There was no point to fight Karl. He rested his forehead against his knees and wrapped his arms around them.
"So, you'll have to forget him, eventually," Karl concluded.
Francesco couldn't hold it in anymore. "You," he hissed.
"What?"
"You can do something," he said stubbornly.
"The fuck do you mean?"
Francesco raised his head and looked at Karl. "You can ask your dad for help."
"What? For that slut? What kind of mushrooms have you been eating lately, Cesco?" Karl was staring at him in undisguised shock. "He whacked a dude. Do you think that's something you can wash with a kitchen sponge or something?"
Francesco set his lips hard. "You can ask. You can make it happen."
Karl snorted. "The fuck would I do that? I can't stand the asshole."
"Why? Because I love him? Fine. I won't anymore. You can have me completely, I don't care." Francesco hated himself as the words poured out of his mouth, but he just couldn't stop.
"Wait, wait, wait," Karl started, as the gears in his head started to turn. "Don't tell me..." His lips twisted into a sneer.
"Tell you what? I'll tell you whatever you want, just save him," Francesco said desperately.
Karl recoiled from his words. "Have you..." He was shaking his head in disbelief while pointing at Francesco. "Have you let me fuck you because of this? Because of him?"
Francesco bit his lips hard. He would bit his tongue, too, if it helped.
"You have," Karl drew his own conclusion. "You fucking lied to me."
"I didn't," Francesco said quietly.
"You did," Karl said accusingly. "You let me wreck your ass, use your mouth, fuck you until you can barely walk... all for him."
"So?" Francesco didn't want to hide anymore. "My body's all I got, and you want it. So it's supply and demand," he said in a harsh voice. "Do you want me to love you, Karl? When the chopper comes, he comes with us."
He pushed himself back, withdrawing to the back of the hut, as Karl jumped to his feet. He deserved a beating, for what exactly, he wasn't sure. Maybe just for being stupid and bad at manipulating another human being.
Karl hovered above him, and he waited for a rain of punches that never came.
"You're nothing but a fucking whore," Karl spat. "Too bad you're a fucking stupid whore. You let yourself fucked for nothing. No deal. Mouse will rot here."
He wrapped his arms around his knees again and hid his face. Yeah, all that was true. It was true, and he could do nothing to change it.
Ty was getting worse. There was growing tension as they all watched him, taking turns by his side. Mouse seemed to be in a grim mood, doing nothing but ordering them to do this or that. Francesco had tried to talk to him, but after three days of never ending rain and Ty's frightening cough, they were all exhausted and at their wits' end.
"Hey, what is it?" Francesco made another attempt to talk to Mouse.
"He's in bad shape. I can't..." Mouse stopped and shook his head.
"Is it only about Ty?" Francesco couldn't shake off the feeling that it was.
"Only? We're talking about one of us, Francesco."
"Yeah, sure, you're right. Sorry. It's just that --"
"He needs medicine," Mouse cut his words shortly. "Without it, he might --" He stopped and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm doing all I can."
"I know." Francesco took him in his arms and held him. "I'll go look for Morgan. He must have stuff like that."
"In this weather?" Mouse pointed outside. "No. You'll get sick, too."
"I can't just sit around, twiddling my thumbs."
Mouse gave him a strange look. "I know."
"Then that's it. I'm going to scout around."
Mouse patted him on the shoulder on his way out. Francesco no longer minded the rain. Good thing it wasn't too cold, or maybe he just didn't feel it anymore. He was barely out of the camp, when Karl barred his way. "The fuck you think you're going?"
After their last conversation, they hadn't spoken a word to each other. "Out of my way, Karl. Somebody needs to do something."
"Oh, yeah? And what do you think you're doing?"
"I'm going to look for that guy with the big scary shotgun. He must have medicine the kind Ty needs," Francesco settled for the truth.
Karl snorted. "Just like that, huh? Did he give you his number? How do you know where he is?"
"I don't. But I'm not going to sit around, doing nothing. My bleeding heart just won't let me," Francesco spat. "Now get out of my way."
Karl moved in front of him. When Francesco tried to move by him, he was met by the same wall of muscles.
"Would you quit being a moron?" he said through his teeth.
"Like you, you mean? You think I'd let you wander the woods in this weather? Get sick, too?"
"Let me pass, Karl." Francesco closed his fists. "I mean it."
"No."
Francesco was just about done with that. He pushed against Karl's chest hard. The force and suddenness of the attack made the other lose his balance for a moment. Francesco took advantage and sprinted away. Karl was soon on his tail, and he could hear him breathing hard.
It took less than a minute for Karl to catch up with him, grab his arm, and stumble together with him on the ground.
"Let me go," Francesco protested and tried to punch Karl in vain, as his fists were quickly grabbed.
"I can't," Karl said. "I just can't."
Francesco gasped when Karl moved fast and kissed him. He struggled, but his wrists were soon pinned above his head in a tight grip. The fucker was between his legs, humping against him. He couldn't protest as Karl's tongue was deep inside his mouth. He was pressed down so hard that he had to struggle to bite on the guy's tongue.
Karl moved away. He held Francesco's wrists with one hand and used the other to press against his mouth. His eyes were dark and the rain kept pouring down on his face.
Francesco grunted when Karl backhanded him across the face, one time, hard. His head lolled to the side.
"I'll get what Ty needs. You don't need that fucker," Karl said through his teeth. "And your whore will come with us when time's up. Happy?"
"What?" Francesco felt his cheek burning. He dared to look at Karl. "You mean it?"
His question was met with a cruel smile. "I mean it."
"I," he stammered, "I don't trust you. I can't."
"Tough luck then, baby," Karl cooed. "Now you're going to feel like I feel. You want his ass saved from here? You gotta put out, bitch."
"What?" Francesco couldn't dare to hope.
"Your ears bad or something? Ass up. Now. I'm not going to go easy, be sure of that."
tbc
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