Copyright 2021 -- Daemon D. Hart
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Prison Island
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 perv. But is it the best you ever had?"
Mouse shrugged. "I don't know. I'll need to taste it properly next time."
"Taste it? Next time?"
Mouse leaned and brushed his hair away from his forehead. "Don't pretend to be slow, Kekko. You know what I'm talking about."
Francesco sighed. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to put Mouse in danger, too. "Karl, he might get funny if he learns about it."
Mouse grinned. "Let me worry about that."
Like it was enough to say that guy's name to summon him, Karl walked toward them through the bushes. "How is Cesco's ankle?" he asked curtly while eyeing both of them with suspicious eyes.
"Much better now," Mouse replied.
"Cesco, go join the others. I need to have a word with Mouse."
Karl didn't take his eyes off Mouse for one moment as he talked, and that was enough to make him worry.
"What? Do you two have secrets?" He tried to play the brave.
"Cesco, don't make me repeat myself," Karl warned.
"Don't worry," Mouse intervened. "He needs me," he added with a big smile and stared at Karl without blinking.
Mouse was a clever guy. He had said before that he wouldn't go against Karl. But now he acted like he had balls of steel.
"I can bring Leon," Francesco said in a wary voice.
Finally, Karl turned to look at him. "I'm your husband. Is this the way to treat me?"
Francesco clenched his jaw. The fucker liked to joke around. Too bad his face told him Karl wasn't joking at all.
Mouse touched his shoulder. "I'll be fine. We'll talk later."
"Like hell," Karl protested. "You better stay away from Cesco or --"
"Or what?" Mouse challenged Karl.
Both boys had their fists tight and staring at each other like bulls in an arena. Karl was the first to back down, much to Francesco's surprise.
"If you two are not back in ten, I'm sending Leon for you," he said.
"Yeah, yeah." Karl waved to make him go away.
He began walking, amazed at how considerably less his ankle hurt now. But, as soon as a large bush appeared in his way, he hid behind it so that he could listen to the conversation between Karl and Mouse.
"What the fuck, slut?" Karl hissed the moment he thought Francesco was out of earshot. "I sent you to take care of his ankle, not his dick."
Mouse snorted and crossed his arms. "Someone has to. I doubt you know what to do with it."
"Ha! For your information, I made Cesco cum like a hose from the first time."
"Like I can believe that shit," Mouse retorted. "Don't tell me you touched his cock."
"I didn't have to. He liked having his ass pounded so much that he came without touching himself."
Francesco bit his lips hard enough to draw blood. The fucker was right; he was an ass-slut. Good thing Mouse didn't believe that asshole Karl. He would think a lot less of him if he knew the truth.
"Well, I don't care, Karl," Mouse said. "Cesco's not yours."
"What were you doing with him when I came? Making doe eyes at him?"
Mouse laughed. "Yeah, right." He moved closer to Karl and breathed in his face. "This is how Francesco smells like. Do you like it?"
Karl took a step back. "Fucking whore," he said through his teeth.
Francesco was in wonder that Mouse was still standing.
"Say whatever you want. I've heard much worse. So, you're fucking Francesco's ass. I don't give a damn. He likes it better with me because he can be a man."
Karl laughed. "Yeah, right. No. He likes to have his boy pussy pounded like there's no tomorrow. I'm the guy who popped his cherry. He's in love with me."
Francesco could barely keep from jumping from his hiding place and punching the asshole in the face. He had never heard a more delusional thing in his life.
"You think you popped his cherry?" Mouse snorted. "Hmm, nope. Francesco got fucked before."
"Are you hard in the head? Did all the cum you swallowed like a thirsty bitch drown your brain or something?"
"Oh, Karl, so creative with your insults. Francesco had more than one cock before coming here. I know it for a fact. And just like before, he doesn't like it any better now."
That was the only thing Mouse was wrong about. It meant that at least that secret was safe. How could the redhead know so much? He decided that he needed to hurry back if he didn't want Karl to realize he had been eavesdropping.
Francesco watched with envy as Leon was all over Ollie, kissing him and humping against him slightly. Those two really didn't care about having an audience, and Leon's appetite for his petite boyfriend appeared to be insatiable.
They had just had dinner, mostly berries and a few roots that Mouse had roasted over the fire. So now they enjoyed the last bit of warmth before heading to bed. Even though the island was lush with greenery and the climate was mild, the nights could be a bit chillier than they were accustomed to.
"Stop staring at Leon and his wife," Karl whispered at him through his teeth.
Francesco could tell the fucker was seething with rage and had a hunch why. Sooner or later, Karl would show his true colors. The only thing to hope for was to have Leon close so that he could escape from the asshole's hands alive.
He moved toward their improvised tent. This time, the boys had worked hard to create better shelters, so they had something akin to walls on three sides. Francesco knew Karl was right behind him but walked as if he didn't have a care in the world.
"When was the first time you got fucked?" Karl spat the moment they were inside.
Francesco shrugged. "You should know. You were there."
tbc