Liftin' Me Up To Heaven, Just To Drop Me Down The Line

“You know, he’s fine,” Mario says, shrugging a little and avoiding Davide’s amused eyes but, most of all, his equally amused smile, “I mean, he’s a good guy. He’s funny. And kind.”

“You like him,” Davide laughs, covering his mouth with one hand. Mario hears his giggles filling the air of the room and closes his own eyes in a desperate attempt to not just jump on him and shuts him up with a kiss. “You think he’s cute, you like him.”

“I do like Marko,” he answers, glaring at Davide and trying to scare him to shut up him without him having to kiss his words off his mouth, “But not in the way you think I like him.”

“But you just said it!”

“No, you said it,” Mario protests, rolling on the bed and examining Davide, who’s sitting on his own bed and isn’t really prone to changing his mind, once he’s decided on something. “And I’m saying it’s not like this. You know,” he adds with a smile, “I only have eyes for you.”

Davide smiles too, and Mario gets up from his bed just to sit down beside him, coming closer to his body as much as he can while they hold eye contact like they’re fighting to see who will be the first to look down.

“So sad you’re not going to have my ass, not now nor never,” Davide laughs as Mario’s eyes stop on his lips, “And you’re not going to have my mouth either, so just stop thinking about it.”

“Oh, please,” Mario says, and if he’s meaning please, just stop it or please, just fuck me it’s still something he himself doesn’t know.

“Please what?” Davide asks, gently brushing his own lips against Mario’s, and they’re soft, sweet and barely wet, and Mario wants them so much he tries to kiss them, but Davide backs off and pushes him away, laughing.

“You’re making me go crazy,” Mario whines, resting his forehead against his shoulder, “And you fuckin’ enjoy it. Just tell me why, at least!”

“It’s funny,” Davide answers, pushing him down on the bed and climbing on him, sitting on his belly. “You’re hard,” he says, and his smile opens wider, “I can feel it on my ass.”

“Yeah, well,” Mario frowns, crossing his arms on his chest despite Davide’s hands going down him, “you could easily feel it in your ass, if you just—“

“But I don’t want to!” Davide laughs again, “I’m not gay or anything.”

“Yeah, sure, none of us is gay, but you’re rubbing your ass against my cock and I’m hard, so either we revise our vocabulary definition of the word ‘gay’, or we just put definitions aside and, you know, fuck.”

Davide laughs once more, and bends over him to kiss him on his nose. “I’m alright like this,” he says, chuckling a little.

“Of course you are,” Mario snorts, scratching the tip of his nose, just where Davide kissed him, “But what about me?”

“You like it when I do this,” Davide answers, moving slowly against his body. Mario can’t help to let go a single little moan in response to his movements, and Davide looks at him, smiling triumphantly. “See? You like it.”

Mario snorts again and puts his hands on Davide’s hips, overturning their positions so he can stay on top of him, pushing him against the bed and feeling every single inch of his body against his own. “I would like it more if I could fuck you,” he whispers on his lips, trying to kiss him and just going down kissing his neck when Davide turns away, “You would like it too,” he says, sliding a hand along his side and then pushing it between his groin and Davide’s legs, forcing them to spread to touch him, despite the fact he’s still fully dressed. “I would make it unforgettable.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would,” Davide answers, his voice just a whisper as he moves under him trying to catch up with the rhythm of his hand, “But I’m not this easy to convince.”

“I’ve been trying to convince you since I came here,” he laughs, biting his neck, “It’s a lot of fucking time.”

“You’ll have to try harder,” Davide insists, brushing more forcefully against his body and feeling Mario’s hard cock against his own as he lets go an uncertain moan, “I think there’s something you could definitely do to convince me once and for all,” he says, trying to regain control of the situation.

“What?” Mario asks, freezing immediately on Davide and looking at him, eyes full of hope. “What do I have to do?”

“You know,” he starts, smiling mischievously, “I like Marko too.”

“Oh, you do,” Mario says, rolling his eyes, already bored.

“Yes, I do,” Davide continues, drawing irregular circles on Mario’s chest through his t-shirt, “And sometimes I think dirty things about him. As you do.”

“I do not,” he says, with a heavy sigh, “But since you do, why don’t you just go and fuck him, already? Instead of staying here and fucking with my brain, I mean.” He tries not to sound as incredibly jealous as he knows he is, but the soft laughter he hears coming from Davide lets him know he totally failed at it.

“’Cause I’m not gay, I told you,” Davide answers, kissing him on his cheek, “But you are.”

“I’m not!” Mario bursts out. He does get the absurdity of whining about being called gay while being still entangled with a boy he would happily pay to fuck, but right now he just feels like complaining about everything he doesn’t like, and not being able to fuck Davide while Davide talks about liking Marko is definitely something he doesn’t like at all. So he’s going to whine. A lot.

“You’re hard,” Davide laughs, totally not impressed by his complains, “And you want me,” he adds, and Mario’s attention suddenly turns to him.

“Yes, I want you,” he says.

“And I want you…” Davide smiles, caressing his neck and almost touching his lips with his own, “…inside Marko. While I watch the two of you.”

Mario almost chokes on his own breath, and looks Davide right in the eyes, trying and figure if he’s serious or not. He hopes he’s not.

“What?” he asks, while Davide laughs again, “Are you totally out of you fuckin’ mind?”

“I’m not! I’m just… curious, I suppose,” he shrugs, sliding out from under Mario’s body and escaping his arms still around him, moving to the bed and tidying up his clothes.

“You’re curious, you suppose?” Mario asks, resting on his side and arching an eyebrow, “Why would you want to watch me fuck another boy? Why would you want to watch me fuck a boy at all?”

Davide bites his lower lip, studying him. “You’re sexy,” he says, his tongue licking slowly the lip he just bit, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. When you move, you make me want to strip and fall to my knees and lick all over your body. And then take you in my mouth and suck you so hard it leaves you breathless.” He stops for a moment, while Mario looks at him, just as breathless as if Davide had really sucked the life out of him. “But I can’t, ‘cause I’m not gay,” he laughs, and Mario realizes he’s been making a fool out of him all the time. “I want to watch you as you fuck Marko, so I can get a clear idea of what I’m missing when I don’t let you fuck me.”

Mario sits and takes a deep breath, then comes closer to him on the bed and kisses him right under his ear, in a soft, sweet way, like he’s just trying to tell he’s okay, he understood.

“Alright,” he smiles, raising a hand and brushing Davide’s lips with his thumb, “I’ll do it. But I want something from you in exchange. Let’s make a deal.”

“A deal?” Davide asks, raising an eyebrow, “What kind of deal?”

“I’ll fuck Marko, and you’ll be there watching. Fine. But then it’s your turn.”

“My turn doing what?” Davide asks, but he’s already smiling, because he already knows.

“Having sex with me,” Mario smiles too, and he smiles against Davide’s lips because he’s already kissing him, “So you won’t have to miss anything anymore.”

*

Marko is a sweet guy, one on whom you can always count for fun; always ready to take only the best of life, not letting himself be bothered by ugly or sad things. He’s easy to get along with, and as a matter of fact Mario got along with him just fine, until Davide decided he had to run his sex life – and in the only way Mario was not inclined to accept.

Mario nervously scratches his nape as Davide pushes him forward, causing him to trip and almost fall on Marko.

“Marko, hi!” he greets him, raising a hand and waving fast, “How’re you?”

“Fine,” he answers, smiling calmly, “But I’m tired! Mourinho’s terrible with me.”

“That’s because you’re still too fat,” Davide mocks him, putting his tongue out at him.

“But I work so hard,” Marko says, lifting his shirt to look at his own belly.

Mario turns to look at Davide and finds him gazing intensely at the other boy’s body: his abdomen, his hips, the way his trousers fits on his ass. “You’re shameless,” he comments, “You did that on purpose.”

Davide laughs, while Marko lets go of his shirt to look at them again.

“He did on purpose what?” he asks, but Davide shrugs and Mario sighs heavily, shaking his head and letting the topic fall.

“Listen, Marko,” ha starts, trying to sound as much casual as he can, “We noticed you almost always hang out alone, or with your brother.”

“Yeah, that’s because I still don’t know anybody,” he nods, whining a little, “I just arrived, no one seem to really notice me at all.”

“We do,” Davide smiles sweetly, “Hey, why don’t you come out with us, tonight?” he asks, like he just had the idea, “It could be fun. Then you decide if you like how we spend our nights out or not.”

“Well, it sounds good…” Marko seems to consider the idea for some time, not so sure on what he should say, so Mario smiles and puts a hand on his shoulder, stroking softly to let him know he’s not in danger.

“It’s even better than it sounds,” he says, and Marko’s smile shines brighter for a second.

“Alright,” he nods finally, “Let’s go out together. Can’t wait to see how you have fun in good company here in Milan.”

*

Marko’s totally drunk. Mario had noticed how nonchalantly Davide had offered him first one beer, and then another one and once again, until Marko started to laugh alone for no apparent reason, suddenly not able to stand up on his own anymore.

“You’re a pest,” Mario tells Davide as they help Marko into their room. The boy continues to laugh, though only God knows why, “I don’t wanna know how long you’ve been planning this. Fuck, I thought you were nice.”

“I am nice,” Davide smiles, sitting on his bed and looking at Marko, sprawled out on Mario’s. “You think he’s going to stay awake while you fuck him? I don’t want him to pass out or something.”

“Well, you should’ve thought about it while you were filling him with alcohol, don’t you think?” Mario sighs, lying down next to Marko. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Yes, I am,” the boy laughs, taking off his shirt and falling down on the bed again, “I’m so hot, guys.”

“You are, indeed,” Davide laughs, making himself more comfortable on the bed, “Mario, touch him, please.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he sighs, but he does it either way. Marko’s skin is soft and warm, and the very moment Mario’s fingers touch his belly he starts laughing again.

“You’re tickling me, man,” Marko says. Mario’s fingers slide down his body and unbutton his jeans. “What are you doing? Man, this is so unfair,” he laughs again, “I can’t fight back.”

“Would you?” Davide asks, bending over him and kissing him softly on his neck and on his cheek.

“Mmh no, I wouldn’t,” Marko answers, and Davide giggles, pleased.

“Marko,” he says in a low voice, speaking directly in his ear, “Mario’s going to fuck you.”

“No way,” Marko laughs once more, just as Mario sighs again, stripping him of his trousers, “Are you serious?”

Davide nods. He’s still smiling. “Do you like him?”

“I like girls, usually,” he answers, “But Mario’s always been kind to me.”

“He’s a sweet guy, isn’t him?”

“Can we please stop talking about how good I am?” Mario snorts, forcing Marko to spread his legs and adjusting between them, uncertain on what he’s supposed to do now. “Or is that why we’re here?”

“No, it’s not,” Davide stands up and climbs on the bed, moving on his knees to reach Mario. Once he’s close enough, he hugs him from behind, his arms around his shoulders, his lips on his neck. “Fuck him like you would fuck me,” he whispers into his skin, and Mario immediately starts to breathe heavier, pushing through Marko’s resistance and entering his body in a long, hard thrust.

Marko whines, his eyes closed and his back arched against the mattress. Mario sees him spread his arms and clutch at the sheets, ripping them from the corners of the bed. “Does it hurt?” he asks, breathing even heavier when Davide, totally lost in what he sees, touches the base of his cock.

“I want to feel you when you’re inside him,” he says, and it’s the first time his voice seems truly fascinated. “Marko, is he hurting you?”

“Yes…” he moans, turning his head but following Mario’s thrusts with his own hips, “No. I don’t know.”

“So this is what it feels like…” he whispers, putting a hand on Mario’s back, feeling the muscles flex under his skin as he pushes deeper inside Marko, “To have someone inside you. You don’t know if you like it or not.”

“That’s because,” Mario says, the words coming out of his mouth slowly, “You feel guilty about it. When you like something and you don’t want to admit it, you always say ‘I don’t know’.”

“You think he doesn’t know because he feels guilty?” Davide asks, releasing Mario and moving closer to Marko, stroking his parted, wet lips and then sliding his hand down along his body to masturbate him.

“I think he doesn’t know because he’s drunk,” Mario answers, looking him in the eye, “I wasn’t talking about him, by the way.”

He comes inside Marko the moment Marko comes between Davide’s fingers, and collects what’s left of his strength to push away from him and roll on Davide’s bed, resting on his back and trying to breathe regularly again. Marko is already asleep.

Davide’s by his side not more than two seconds later.

“What did you mean?” Davide asks. He tries to sound perfectly calm, but the anxiety in his voice betrays him.

“What are you talking about?” Mario asks in turn, forcing himself not to smile.

“Just before,” Davide insists, sounding even more edgy, “What with that feeling guilty and shit. What did you mean?”

He doesn’t answer. “Are you horny?” he asks instead.

“Fuck, no!” Davide bursts out, “I’m not fuckin’—“

Mario turns on the mattress, pinning him on the bed under his own body again. He thrusts a couple of times between his legs, until they part, and he feels his cock’s hard under his jeans and his underwear. “You’re horny,” he says, rolling on his back again, not touching him anymore. “That’s what I was talking about.”

Davide growls softly, climbing on him and caressing his sweaty chest with his hands wide open. “You said you wanted to fuck me,” he says, but his words sound like the ones of an unsatisfied kid who’s been having fun until his dad came home and ruined the rest of the day by his mere presence, “Then do it, already. See for yourself if I’m horny or not. Fuck me.”

Mario looks at Davide, then catches him by his nape and pulls him down, kissing him hard, forcing him to part his lips and biting them, almost hurting him, before he stops suddenly and rolls off his body.

“I will,” he answers, “Don’t worry, I will. When you’re able to tell if you like it or not.”

Davide’s eyes open wide, trying to tell him something, but it’s something Mario doesn’t want to hear, so he just turns his back and tries to sleep. He’s not sure he’ll manage to, but Davide’s not making a fool out of him anymore, and he never will again. He may be sleepless, but at least he’s satisfied.