Chapter Twenty #2
Closing his eyes in bliss, a moan escaped him, and suddenly he was no longer in a rustic diner in rural Nebraska but catapulted back in time to endless summer days in the streets of downtown Buffalo, kids screaming with happiness as they threw colorful water balloons at each other, their eyes blazing with glee, ice cream sticking to their fingers and corners of their mouths.
Xavi and Joe were smiling wickedly at him before they chased him down the street, filled water balloons in their hands, voices raw from yelling.
‘You better run, mano! You better hide!’ And Lulu would run and run and laugh and laugh until his lungs were burning and his thighs were aching.
Until his throat was raw from squealing.
Until Xavi, because it was always Xavi, caught him from behind and twirled him around until he no longer knew what was up and what was down, only that Xavi was the center of everything.
Always Xavi. Xavi, who always wore a shirt even on the hottest of days, when the rest of the kids, including Joe and Lulu, would be bare-chested, wearing only their low-hanging wet shorts.
Xavi, who, when the streets had darkened, the kids disappearing into their respective apartment buildings, would bump his shoulder against Lulu’s and say, ‘Stay. Stay over, mano.’ And Lulu wanted nothing more than to say ‘Yes. Always yes, forever yes,’ but then there was the image of little hungry, snot-nosed Manu, and the still vivid bruises on Lulu’s body reminding him of his father’s drug-induced wrath, and what could happen to tiny, defenseless Manu if Lulu wasn’t there to catch the blunt force of those knuckles first, while Manu hid under the bed or in the closet.
The words were always right there, though, burning on the tip of his tongue.
I don’t wanna go home. I don’t ever wanna go home again.
Opening his eyes, he found Xavi glaring at him, his lips twisted into something painful and dangerous, a frown digging into the space between his thick brows.
“What?” Lulu leaned in, frowning back, as he dipped the spoon back into the sundae.
“Nothing,” Xavi mumbled, his gaze dipping back to the spoon in his hand.
Lulu shrugged, raising the spoon to his lips, then noticing some chocolate sauce that had trailed down his hand.
Shit, the last thing he needed was to get that stuff on his clothes.
Sticking out his tongue, Lulu scooped up the sauce.
The sharp taste of brandy powered through, burning his lips deliciously. Fuck, this was good stuff.
Xavi shifted next to him, grunting.
“Now what?” Lulu sighed. If Xavi was going to communicate with glares and grunts alone, they were in for a long night, but not necessarily the kind Lulu was hoping for.
“You were moaning.” Xavi’s gaze dipped to his own spoon, which hovered between them, melted ice cream dripping from it, spilling onto the tablecloth.
“Sorry.” Lulu blinked, then lifted the spoon to his mouth, closing his lips around it again.
The sundae melted on his tongue, tasting of all things indulging and hedonistic.
Salt, cream, sweetness. It tasted like fucking Xavi, and now it was images of Xavi with a tight grip on his fat cock that entered Lulu’s mind, rich creamy spurts of cum coating Lulu’s tongue, sliding down his throat.
“Quit. Fucking. Moaning!” Xavi hissed as his hot breath hit Lulu’s chin, and when he opened his eyes, Xavi was right up in his face, the lust in his eyes undeniable.
“I can’t. It’s so yummy, oso.” He dipped the spoon back into the sundae, then held it up in front of Xavi’s tight lips. “Here, mano. You gotta taste it. It’s so creamy. It’s li—”
“Stop!” Xavi gritted, then looked around the half-empty diner. “I know what you’re doing, but just stop, okay?”
“What am I doing?” Lulu whispered as he pushed the spoon against Xavi’s mouth, coaxing his lips to open. “I’m not doing anything.” He batted his eyelashes, digging his teeth into his bottom lip. “Unless you want me to do something. Do you?”
Shaking his head, Xavi mumbled something under his breath, but Lulu only caught the word ‘impossible’ and something that sounded like ‘the death of me.’ Pushing his chair back from the table, Xavi dug his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out some bills, then threw a pile of twenties on the table.
Shooting a final glare at Lulu, he spat, “Finish your fucking ice cream, Lulu,” before he stalked toward the counter, where he exchanged a few words with Tilly, who nodded and smiled, then pointed to something on the board behind her.
Then, without so much as a backward glance at Lulu, Xavi steered toward the coat rack next to the door, grabbed his leather jacket, and disappeared out into the cold darkness.
What the hell! He’d only been teasing. He did that all the time.
It was kind of their thing, wasn’t it? To throw digs at each other, with Lulu always being the one taking it a little too far, perhaps, but after last night, he thought Xavi wouldn’t mind.
Shit. He looked at the remaining sundae, his stomach doing a weird sweepy movement, regret and anxiousness pulling at him.
Getting up, he waved Tilly goodnight, and she sent him off with a ‘sleep tight, hon’ and a small wave too.
Grabbing his jacket, he tugged the faux-fur hood around his head and shivered as icy air hit him from the outside when he left the diner.
He found the door to the small annex in the back unlocked and opened it carefully.
They’d dropped their suitcases on the bed earlier when Tilly had shown them their lodgings for the night.
It wasn’t much, but it was clean and warm and had a homey feel to it.
Xavi’s suitcase lay open on the bed, and the sound of a shower running spilled through the closed bathroom door.
Sighing, Lulu dropped onto the bed next to the suitcase, then leaned back against the soft sheets smelling of pine and fresh river water or something like that.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, relaxing his body, listening to his own heartbeat until he felt a familiar form hovering above him.
He hadn’t noticed that the shower had stopped running, or that Xavi had entered the room.
But Lulu felt him now, Xavi’s presence so powerful, the heat from his body pulsing toward Lulu, as it wrapped around him.
Opening his eyes slowly, Lulu was met by a set of intense-looking dark brown irises, with thick black lashes surrounding them.
Swallowing, Lulu tried to get up, but Xavi planted his palm right in the middle of his chest, pinning him down.
Xavi was dressed in a white tee, with a towel wrapped around his hips, and Lulu wished that, just for once, Xavi wouldn’t have covered himself up.
He wanted to see him, all of him, so badly.
He knew no matter what, despite the blotches of scar tissue and the marred skin, that Xavi would be fucking magnificent naked.
Lulu just knew it like he knew his own name or that the sun rose in the East and set in the West.
“I’m sorry,” Lulu blurted, not really sure why or for what.
“Stop. Talking,” Xavi bit out, pushing Lulu deeper into the mattress. The feel of his hand and how warm and solid it was grounded Lulu, making him feel strangely safe.
“But—”
“I swear to fucking god, cisne. Stop. Fucking. Talking.” There was an edge of rawness in Xavi’s voice, and combined with that silent plea in his eyes, Lulu nodded quietly.
Xavi’s lips twitched, one side of his face cast in shadow, the other half illuminated by the light coming from the bathroom.
He was so fucking beautiful, so desirable.
If only Xavi could see it himself. If only he would allow Lulu to tell him again and again, let him worship his body the way it deserved to be worshipped.
Like a holy altar that Lulu would kneel in front of with equal parts awe and lust. Awe of what Xavi’s body had endured and lust over how beautifully flawed he was, marked by life and circumstance, like Lulu was too.
Blemished. Scarred. Imperfect. They both were.
Incomplete on their own, but perfect together in a way that made more sense to Lulu than anything else ever had or ever would.
He was sure of that. If only Xavi could see how fucking perfect they could be together, if he could just let his guard down. Just once.
The words burned on Lulu’s tongue, dying to be spoken, but the silent plea in Xavi’s eyes lingered. Don’t. So Lulu didn’t.
Then Xavi’s face disappeared with a breathy “Don’t move,” before he started tugging impatiently at Lulu’s jeans.
Lulu was already embarrassingly hard. His dick was trying to drill a tunnel through his pants; it had been since the moment he’d felt Xavi’s hand against his sternum.
Xavi cursed under his breath as he struggled to pull Lulu’s tight jeans down his thighs, then attacked Lulu’s ankle boots instead, tossing first one, then the other over his shoulder carelessly.
“Hey! Those are my favorites,” Lulu objected, but one look from Xavi was enough to make him almost swallow his tongue.
Right. Be quiet, Lulu. Don’t make him stop.
His woolen rainbow socks that Joe’s mami had knitted for him last Christmas were next, and then he felt the slide of his jeans down his legs and ankles until cool air blew along his skin, goosebumps appearing in its wake.
Then something wet and raspy connected with his sensitive inner thighs, a delicious scratchiness that made his skin tingle.