Chapter Text
Another round-another ride.
Me invita a su casa, quiere fumar marihuana
quiere llevarme a su cama
Para hacer pem pem perepempempem!
He closes his eyes.
Pem pem pem perepempempem!
His temple bangs harder on the van's window as a shiver invades him.
"Damiano, don't fall asleep!"
"Oh Vic, I'm freaking tired, leave me alone."
"Balls. What a boring duo you and he make."
"Leave him be. You know that... well, you know."
Thomas squeezes his arms tighter on his chest, the cold is getting worse, maybe Lello has the window a little open, maybe they've turned on the air conditioning.
"I'm sorry to see you all so tired... especially you, Thommy. I'm sorry, I want to do something... If I was there-"
Thomas smiled.
He waited for a FaceTime call with Ethan for days, but meds tire up the brunette boy more than planned, and Thomas... even him is out of energy.
It was only yesterday that they were able to make that call.
"I would find a way to cheer you up."
Ethan looked at him worried, but in reality Thomas should be the one worried, Ethan has undergone a sudden and heavy surgery, yet lately is always him who sends encouragement to everyone via Instagram, Whatsapp, even Facebook when he's on it, Damiano in a Skype call also told him: I've never seen you being so socially active in my life, bro! making them all laugh.
But FaceTime...
He does it only with him.
Thomas smiles while bringing his legs on the van's seat, Marta caresses his calf briefly before going back to her furiously writing on her tablet.
Every now or then someone caresses him, he noticed.
Gives him pat on his shoulders or tries to make him laugh.
You know that... well, you know.
They all know it.
Even if there's really nothing to know.
Thomas smiles, keeps his head down beyond their bodyguards, deafening screams are part of their routine now, following them on the street, in bars, in clubs, at concerts, at signings sessions, meet and greets, everywhere.
He sits on the outermost chair, looks at his inexorably empty side, no more extra chairs.
Just three.
And an empty space in the middle.
"I'm fine just when you're here."
He didn't even try to scroll his shoulders to put down his own statement, he was kneeling on his hotel room's pavement, his chin on his fists, lifted enough from the table to be able to watch and be watched by Ethan.
"Thom..."
Ethan smiled sweetly at him, yeah sweet, always sweet with him, delicate, calm, just with him.
Thomas jumps when he feels his hip being touched for the thousand time.
Smiles in their fans hugs, he thanks them for their compliments, accepts sweets, stuffed toys, drawings, letters, he responds on their different how's Ethan?
There's some fan that glares at him, someone that wanted to get just another chance to talk with Damiano or Victoria, but Thomas doesn't care, he talks, tries to smile, to comfort fans, the others let him do that while they continue their signing session.
He grits his teeth when a new wind blow chills his spine, his eyes become shiny, with Ethan on his side it never happened, his presence was warm, protective, his hands were delicate on his side, his smile sweet.
Another round-another ride.
La mia- la mia- è una Generazione X!
La mia- la mia- è una Generazione X!
"What is this shit? I wanna listen to Elettra!"
"Luv, Elettra only made two songs, now shut your mouth for a bit."
Thomas holds more on his jacket and pretends to be asleep, his phone is hot in his hands, hot like Ethan's last message, from more than one hour ago.
Smile, Thom.
He forced it, he smiled, he had fun, he quit thinking about it, he uploaded a video with Vic on Instagram talking about Torna a casa and Il Ballo della vita once again in top chart, she rambled about their merits, about how cool they were, hot and blonde, the most beautiful.
The matter...
was that Ethan answered.
Thomas thought that his reply was just another one of his not-funny-at-all-jokes, but no, it wasn't.
The most beautiful indeed ❤️
Now that.
That's what he answered.
And now his heart is beating like crazy, fast and shaking just thinking about those simple words, just direct and honest, never a hidden agenda, never an insinuation, nothing.
Ethan doesn't talk in riddles.
Don't talk just for the sake of it either, but...
Who's the most beautiful, me or Vic?
He feels ashamed of that text, he can perfectly picture Ethan's harsh laugh, he can picture his polite reply for the fear of displeasing one of them, he can picture his calmness.
But the reply came late.
And when it comes they're back in Rome.
You're the most beautiful, Thommy.
He rolls over in his blankets, they're at Vic's place, tomorrow they need to be up at six in the morning, it's better to stick together.
He's not tired.
Well he's tired.
But he can't sleep.
His iPhone signs two and a quarter a.m..
He doesn't think about it.
"Siri, call Ethan."
Calling Ethan...
The phone rings.
Rings rings rings.
Rings.
Thomas is about to hang up.
"Hel-lho?"
"Ethan."
"Oh, Thom. What's happening?"
Ethan's voice is stronger now, more clear.
"Can I come to your place?"
The silence that follows is tiring, Thomas already knows the answer.
"It's late, Thom. Go back to sleep."
"I've got my car nearby, I'll come, please Eth, just... ten minutes."
"You need an hour just to come here and go back. For what, staying here for ten minutes?"
Ethan smiles good-natured, Thomas can hear it through his microphone, but doesn't want to give up.
"Yes! Yes, Ethan!"
"Just try to sleep, Thom."
Thomas snorts.
He just wants to hang up on him without saying hi.
"Behave. I'll talk to you until you fall asleep."
Instead he calms down.
And gets comfy again on the sofa-bed, suddenly deadly tired. He closes his eyes with Ethan's voice in his ears, his limbs tingling while the brunette's voice loses its meaning, bending itself into a caress in his eyelids, on his cheeks, a brush against his lips and then a hold.
Warm.
Around his hips.
"Sleep well, Thomas."
Another round-another ride.
Un uomo onesto, un uomo probo
Trallalallà trallalalleru
Si innamorò perdutamente d'una che non lo amava niente.
"What is this melancholic shit, luv- oh no, it's Faber."
"Yes, luv it's Faber, now, shut up a bit, just for this song, please."
"Yeah, yeah, just because I like him too, non era il cuore non era il cuore, trallalallà trallalalleru, non le bastava quell'orrore, voleva un'altra prova del suo cieco amore! Would you do that for me, hun? To kill your mommy."
"Fuck no."
They all laugh, Lello and Thomas too and even their drivers, they all laugh except for Marta, she's at the phone.
Damiano wouldn't kill his mother for Vic
Thomas waits a few minutes, and then smiles at Ethan's reply.
Are you listening to my songwriters playlist?
You're spying on us?
No, Damiano just uploaded an ig story 😄
Thomas shakes his head and delete his reply, there's a hole on the street, their van jumps, the blonde boy tries again.
And you? You would kill your mother for me?
This time he waits.
Waits.
Waits.
No, Thom
Blows out all the air he was holding.
I would take you meeting her, but what for? You know her well by now.
Thomas huffs while slipping on his sit.
Ethan doesn't indulge him in anything.
"When we're gonna start this fucking tour, I can't take it anymore guys I swear, I can't take it."
Vic softens his laughing voice.
"Aww, our little canary bird is missing Ethan! C'mon, Damià, go comfort him, you don't see how he’s bending, making himself smaller, leave that phone! Your son is suffering."
"Before dawn is your son, hun."
"I know, but it's not dawn, it's nine o'clock in the morning."
Thomas hears huffing, then a noise of something falling on his side, a thick arm surrounding him, he stiffs, it's not... the hug he craves.
"Thomas, you need to chill. Ethan is fine, you've seen him, right? He's reading Tesla's autobiography, he's cool. A few days more and he'll be back. He's alright. Don't make that funeral face to me."
Another round-another ride.
Silence.
"Thomas, Ethan is downstairs, wanna help him out with his luggage?"
His hands are sweating.
He pulls up his skinny jeans on his thin hips, tucks the turtleneck inside, pulls up the sleeves and ruffles his fringe.
"Oh, Thom! C'mon, I can't go, I'm not dressed yet, you know that he can't make any effort."
He turns to Victoria who has her arms outstretched wrapped in a heavy bathrobe in the bathroom of his room where he is too, he feels shaking from head to toe when he closes the hotel room door behind him and walks towards the lift. He feels as if all his body cells were shaking, his breath shortens, the lack of Ethan becomes more acute when he reaches the ground floor.
He sees him even if several meters are in between them, Ethan has his eyes up in the air, observes the paintings on the ceiling of that hotel in Turin with a question in his eyes and a smile on his lips.
Thomas stays a few steps away from him, spreads his legs a little and holds his hips out, clasping his hands behind his back.
He doesn't want to disturb him.
"Thom."
However, he jumps when Ethan suddenly smiles at him, heedless of the painted ceiling, approaches him dragging his trolley with difficulty behind him, Thomas gets up, raises his arms to stop him, brushing his chest before holding his breath.
It's not a real hug.
Ethan has his chest against his own, his chin on Thom's shoulder.
His left hand gently squeezes Thomas's hip which burns so much that he fears it might burn the turtleneck's fabric.
"How are you?"
He should be the one to ask it.
Just as he should carry his luggage up to their rooms.
He's not doing any of that, busy as he is holding his breath and holding his trembling fingers against the dark haired boy's chest.
Ethan gets off, perhaps suddenly aware of his immobility, looks at him questioningly for a few seconds and then smiles again.
Calm.
He brushes Thom's cheek with his thumb.
"I'll make you sleep tonight."
He smiles too.
With Ethan...
He is able to sleep better and better.
Something is happening.
Something is happening.
He clenches the left fist that he holds raised under the chin and tightens the right arm more under the elbow.
They're making an interview.
And Ethan's hand never left his side.
It rests under his sleeveless vest as if it had always been there, calloused and hard in contact with the soft skin of his hip.
He doesn't caress him, he does not playfully pinch him, he does not touch him as he usually does to make him feel his presence or to help him get off or on stage.
Turning his face slightly towards him, Ethan smiles, replies, showing no signs of discomfort or embarrassment, nothing suggests that he has been clutching his side for five minutes now.
Thomas tights his lips.
He doesn't want to look at him.
He doesn't want to look at his straight profile, his smooth black hair, his naked chest and shoulders barely covered by a fully unbuttoned shirt.
Something is happening.
Ethan leaves him when they say goodbye and thank the reporter, Thomas doesn't have time to breathe that Ethan's hand returns to his side accompanying him towards the emergency exit of the Locomotiv club , he leaves him just before returning to squeeze him and then help him to get into their van.
It's a torture.
He feels chills covering him from head to toe and it's not for the nine degrees in a wintery Bologna, that's because-
"Come, lean on me."
'Cause Ethan hugs him and tries to warm his bare arms by rubbing them with his hands, then leaves a hot kiss on his forehead, Thomas's eyes turn shiny as he holds back a sob by pushing his fingers to his lips.
Something is happening.
He understands this because Ethan takes his other hand with his right one, squeezes it on his lap as he continues to warm it and once again separates Thom's blonde bangs with the tip of his nose and leaves a new kiss there, longer, warmer.
Something is happening because Thomas has started shaking harder and in the dark front seats no one is realizing what is happening.
Ethan who's releasing his hand.
And who's running to squeeze Thom's ones until can move them away from his lips.
And who leaves him a kiss next to the nose.
Thomas feels the first tear falling on his cheeks.
Of confusion.
Heat.
As if His heart wanted to come out of his chest.
A new kiss arrives, this time on the left cheek right along the wet line of tears.
What is happening?
Why doesn't he have the strength to move?
To gently move away with a laugh from the grasp of his best friend, his friend, the only one who understood him...
Who doesn't need Thomas to ask-
Stay close to me, hold me, drown me in affection please, if you don't, no one will.
He doesn't need it.
Ethan understood.
And it never made him feel less man, less hard, less strong just for that.
For his need.
But this is too much.
He should take his iPhone out of his pocket, connect to the Bluetooth of the sleepy and tired van and put Myss Keta on in a very high volume and should be making stories on Instagram, making noise, just happy with a new stage of the tour gone splendidly.
Instead he is shaking.
In a hot embrace.
In tears.
Because something is happening and none of the five people present besides them have noticed it.
"Are you still cold?"
It's a whisper that follows Ethan's hand through his hair, his lips through the golden locks, and Thomas's leg ...
His leg.
He hadn't realized he had placed it on Ethan's left one.
But now he notices the hand of the dark haired boy squeezing his inner thigh.
New tears flood his cheeks, what's happening, why?
Because it's happening to him, they ...
They are friends.
They are friends.
And then Thomas does something he had never done before.
He turns and makes contact first.
He leaves a wet kiss on Ethan's cheek.
He can see Ethan's serene smile in the darkness of the van, he thinks it's a thank you, for the sweetness, the affection.
So the dark haired boy reciprocates, leaving him another kiss in the corner of Thom's mouth.
His heart trembles.
Thomas shakes his head as his face crumples, no no no, stop it, please.
Have mercy.
Of me.
Please.
The vans stops.
"Guys, wake up, we arrived at the hotel."
They both jump and Thomas finds the strength to break away, rubs his face, adjusts the vest that has slipped off his thin arms, he would like to ignore Ethan's outstretched hand as always ready to support him, but he doesn't, he feels like his legs are reduced to jelly, he already imagines himself falling tumbling a few steps from the hotel reception, so he squeezes Ethan's helping hand and doesn't let it go even in the elevator, not even up to their room, and Damiano and Vic... don't even notice it anymore.
How can they?
Something is happening.
He stands still while Ethan undresses and then adjusts the thermostat, it is only when he has put on his pajama bottoms that he notices it.
That Thomas remained there.
Still.
In his concert clothes.
"Are you tired?"
Ethan smiles, goes to meet him and takes off his waistcoat, Thomas no longer feels his arms or legs while Ethan unbuttons his jeans and slowly slides it off his ass, over his thighs.
Thomas feels like crying again.
He lifts his legs one at a time as Ethan undresses him like a baby, yet he doesn't feel like a baby, he feels nothing.
Nothing.
Ethan squeezes his left hand with his own positioning behind him, guides him with his right on his hip, like a doll, he should feel offended, be treated like that... as if he had no will. Yet that's how it feels.
And it's a nice feeling.
Not having to show yourself strong.
Abandoning yourself.
In the care of another.
"Thomas, open your eyes."
Ethan's voice is a whisper in the dim room, a warmth feeling envelopes him and he feels his hand being held.
He squints his eyes with difficulty.
His lashes are moist and sticky.
"Why are you crying?"
"I don't know."
"Thom."
It is a reproach.
But it looks almost sweet on the other's lips.
"I don't know."
"Thommy."
Last warning.
Thomas takes a breath.
"I have fallen in love with you."
His heart beats on a regular basis.
That's how it is.
He fell in love with him.
Maybe while they were writing New Song together, maybe when Ethan waited until late for him to finish playing during rehearsals, maybe because he fixes his playing station every day, maybe because Victoria and Damiano and all. his. friends.
They remind him to be a man, to behave like a man, to speak, to pose, to move, like a man.
Instead, he would need someone to tell him that his thin, fragile body is equally beautiful, that it doesn't matter if he doesn't respect the classic male aesthetics, that he can ask for affection, sweetness, care, love.
Without his masculinity being compromised.
Otherwise... if this is not possible...
"I want to be treated like a woman, Ethan.
Treat me like a woman."
Ethan looks at him confused.
The make-up under the eyes is faded by sweat and cold, between tears and sobs Thomas can only imagine how his own is reduced.
"What do you mean Thomas? What do you mean?"
The blond boy is breathing slowly.
"Take care of me. Hold my hand, uphold me when I walk, give me the way, give me flowers, hug me, kiss my hands, forehead, lips, make love to me...
And ask yourself if you are going too fast, if you are hurting me...
Treat me like a woman.
And I'll make you the happiest man.
Of the world."
Ethan shakes his head.
He approaches him, takes his face in his hands, delicate, always delicate, no no, that's not how a man is treated, Ethan, is all wrong, don't you understand? You can't behave like that.
You have to tell everyone, everyone, 'from now on I will treat Thomas like a woman', you have to say it, so I will stop feeling inadequate, I can melt into hugs, laugh softly, sleep with my head on your shoulder, cry in front of everyone , without hiding, without holding me back.
You have to say it, 'For me Thomas is a woman now', so I can stop being ashamed of my body and instead be proud of my long, thin legs, proud of my hourglass shaped hips, proud of my thin arms, proud of my small and delicate intimacy. You have to say it. To all.
So that people can stop looking at us dazed, disgusted, uncomfortable. While you hug me.
If you don't say it...
If you don't say it... they'll keep saying you're wrong. That this is not the way to treat a man. That you cannot console him after a bad fight with others, it is not up to you, he must go through it alone, that he cannot sit on your lap, that you cannot caress his legs, his back, that you cannot slip your hand over the button of his jeans.
But if you treat me like a woman...
They will all envy us.
Because I will be the most beautiful, sweetest girl for you. I will be for you everything you could ever imagine.
But you have to say it.
Say it.
"You are a man, Thomas."
Crack.
Can men's hearts be broken?
No, they shouldn't.
Men's heart are strong, hard as rocks. Men's hearts don't break.
He falls.
Men's legs don't crumble over the weight of pain. They are strong, they hold the entire body weight.
Yet he's never been heavy weighted.
Ethan hugs him.
He squeezes him with all his strength, carrying Thomas on himself.
It's wrong.
It's all wrong.
Why does Ethan keep treating him like this?
Why he keep holding him, caressing him with so much tenderness?
If Thomas is a man... why?
"Why do you always treat me like this?
Why are you taking care of me?"
Ethan strokes his wet face.
"Because I'm falling in love with you too."
Thomas looks at him.
Look at his calm eyes.
And shakes his head.
But Ethan doesn't give up.
"I need to take care of you. Because I feel like you need someone to do it. And I... I want to be there."
"But you said... I'm a man.
Men... they don't treat other men that way.
It's wrong. People will always stare at us. They will make insinuations about us, they will insult us, they will downplay us."
Ethan holds his intimacy tight.
Thomas moans widening his eyes, leans against the solid chest of the other with breathlessness.
"Feel. Feel your body.
You are a man, Thomas.
You don't have to be afraid, you don't have to.
You are acting the way you feel.
And I behave as I please.
This doesn't make us two second-rate men.
You don't need to act like a woman, and you don't need me to treat you like one. If you want some flowers, I'll give you some.
If you want to be hold, hugged, gently touched... I will continue to do so as always. If one day you want to make love to me and you want to feel me slowly inside you...
I will go slow. And I'll make you feel how much I love every inch of the man you are, Thomas. Every inch."
The blonde boy rests his forehead against Ethan's neck.
His left hand on the other's chest is tightly gripped by Ethan, fingers thicker, rougher, darker and stronger.
Why can't he be like that too?
Like Ethan.
Proud of his firmness, his androgynous features, his long hair.
Perhaps because in spite of everything Ethan is a man. His physique is solid, his jaw is hard, his eyes deep.
But Thomas's eyes... are dull.
His body is thin and weak, his jaw and his hands are delicate.
No, he could never be like him.
He slides his fingers along Ethan's abs and they contract as he passes.
"Why can't I be like you? No matter how hard I try..."
Ethan hugs him, taking him better against his body, wants to move him away from the hard floor of their hotel room, so he holds him in his arms, trying to warm him with his body.
"I don't want you to be the same as me.
I want you to be different, as you are now, so that I will continue to be amazed by your clear beauty, by your fragile sweetness.
You have to let me do this, Thomas.
I want to be by your side and love you for who you are. Please allow me to do it."
He doesn't know how long he's been crying on Ethan's chest.
If people saw him now... they would say that it is wrong, it is not for men to cry, it is not for men to be squeezed, comforted, let another boy kiss his cheeks to ward off the tears.
Yet he just wants to be loved.
This is the second time that he starts a contact first.
He is aware of his wet face, aware of his shaking body, of his insecure hands.
He puts his lips on Ethan's gently.
Breathes away and then touches his lips again.
He feels his cheeks getting warm, he closes his eyes and waits.
Ethan squeezes his face, brushing his nose with his.
"I love you like crazy."
For the first time since they are locked in this room, Thomas smiles.
Between the tears.
Ethan loves him like crazy.
He repeats it once a day, every day.
Yesterday he told him while the hairdresser was combing his hair.
He leaned over him, put a hand on his arm and whispered it against his ear.
I love you like crazy.
He turned red as Ethan stood up making sure to stroke his arm up to his shoulder, he smiled at the hairdresser thanking her kindly for giving him the floor for a few seconds.
The day before yesterday Ethan held him tight at the end of the concert not worrying about the sweat of both of them, he spoke loudly on his cheek, to cover the screams of the crowd and excited thanks from Damiano.
I love you like crazy.
One day Thomas will stop blushing at those words.
He will stop feeling his body shaking, his heart leaping in his chest.
He hopes it doesn't happen soon.
Today...
"Ah... Ethan- Ethan please-"
Ethan's hand wraps around his cock tightly, massaging him, squeezing him, Thomas clings to the sheets while tears of pleasure wet the pillow.
Ethan is rubbing against him.
Thomas feels his hard-on solidly sliding between on his ass-crack, he feels it wet, moisten his rim with his pleasure, and he... he won't last long.
He bites the pillow and comes with a sob.
His lower belly melts but he finds himself moaning anyway, because Ethan has separated his butt-cheeks and started rubbing himself harder.
Thomas feels it very hard and heavy against his own hole that would only like to open up, more, still, and welcome it. Feel it.
But Ethan doesn't penetrate him, he continues to rub his buttocks, grunts behind him with the effort and then comes.
And Thomas stops breathing.
Because he feels it.
He feels his thick semen wet him, sliding on his testicles up to his crack opened by arousal.
He feels tighten from behind, he's still dirty, he feels squeezed and his heart sinks in his chest.
"I love you like crazy."
Thomas became quieter.
He smiles a lot, blushes a lot, shows more emotions on his body every day with more confidence, with more conviction, even being sensual at times.
But he became quieter.
His back rests against the fridge of a luckly empty Raggi house.
Ethan looks at him, at his hips pushed forward, his lean relaxed arms and that provocative, naive smile on his lips.
"Do you want a sandwich too?"
Thomas shakes his head and continues to smile, playing thoughtful with the edge of his skinny jeans, but Ethan has sensed that right now every move Thomas makes is intended.
A shiver rises up his bare back, he tries not to think about the blonde's hard nipples, he tries not to think about his soft thighs in his jeans and above all he tries not to think about the last half hour he spent rimming his hole.
His jaw hurted but he was also hungry so he went down to the kitchen with an unsatisfied erection in his jeans and a rumbling stomach.
Ethan reaches out to the boy he loves, strokes his cheek and then slides to his lips, they are thin and delicious, he runs his thumb over his lower lip before pulling away.
He’s hungry.
He hears a short moan from Thomas, sees him squeeze his legs and lick his lips, oh no, he knows what that means.
"Thom, no wait let me eat-"
Thomas does not listen to him, he is already on his knees in front of him, Ethan huddles against the kitchen counter while his gaze blurs.
The blond takes Ethan’s dick in his mouth, keeps his eyes closed and his cheeks full, while he swallows his cock inch by inch, he’s fast, meticulous, he previously wanted to practice a lot.
Ethan never denied him.
Thomas closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, Ethan is big, too big for him, Thomas always says that, Ethan thinks it's an excuse, because he noticed that the only thing Thom likes about blowjobs is-
"Um-"
He gets off with a smile and puts his hands on his knees. He looks at him calmly before closing his eyes and opening his mouth.
Ethan chuckles, squeezes the shaft and starts masturbating, thanks to the saliva and the pre-cum everything is more slippery and pleasant, he squeezes Thomas's shoulder before positioning himself in front of his face.
Here it is.
Ethan opens his eyes breathlessly only to enjoy the spectacle of Thomas completely happy.
While cum runs down his hair, cheeks, nose, lips.
He sees him smile, inhale through his nose, before collecting the thick liquid with his fingers and taking it to his hungry lips.
He asked him why once.
Thomas has broken the silence in which he recently lives only for him.
He said he loved the smell, the texture.
He said he feels fulfilled, that he sees Ethan's sperm as a gift.
A pleasure that only he’s able to give him.
He said he'll be as happy only when they’ll finally make love and Ethan will come inside him.
He said it with his face still crusted and his lashes heavy and sticky, he said it with a calm smile as if he were talking about why water lilies are his favorite flowers.
Then he returned to his peaceful silence.
Ethan bends to the floor, takes him by the hips and waits for Thomas to wrap his arms around his shoulders, before lifting him to his feet, Thomas continues to squeeze him as he yawns, Ethan holds him tight and eats his sandwich quickly, but his hunger is another, different, the blond's scent is suffocating, his body is warm, the kisses he leaves on his neck are wet. He quickly swallows the last piece of bread as the blonde steps away from him only to lean on the kitchen counter.
Thomas sticks his butt up, his arms trembling on his hips sides, Thomas understood what Ethan wanted, he understood immediately.
And he performed.
Ethan squeezes his jeans-covered ass to make him wince, undoes his pants quickly, thank goodness he's not wearing any underwear, so he separates his butt-cheeks to reveal his opening.
He blows on it just to hear him moan, he sees his rim, it's red and soft, still wet and wide, he licks his lips and sinks his face into that roundness.
He wets Thom's hole with his tongue, inserts his fingers, spreads it and wets it again, Thomas's legs are shaking, his voice is high-pitched, he's so wet, so softened, he gets to insert four fingers without any effort.
"I could fuck you now. What do you say, love?"
There are thousands warning signs in his head, he had thought of a romantic evening for their first time instead, he had thought of getting a room at the Rome Cavalieri, a dinner at La Pergola and a dip in the pool, he had thought of flowers waiting for Thomas when he woke up the next morning, a bunch of hydrangeas and gardenias with a single water lily in the center, then breakfast in their room with sponge cake and nutella, a long bath in the tub together, lots of kisses, lots of cuddles.
He had thought of keeping him locked in his room, letting him rest, waiting for the pain to pass, holding him tight, Thomas surrounded by precious sheets, in a luxury room, enveloped in the scent of flowers as he deserves.
He had thought of everything.
But he hears Thomas assert and moan, so he quickly pulls himself up and hugs him, kissing his shoulder.
"I can't resist anymore."
Thomas nods with his eyes closed holding his hand over his mouth, he is shaking, maybe they are both shaking, but they did everything, they really did everything.
Thomas was scared though.
He didn't tell him explicitly, but he would get nervous every time Ethan tried to bring up the subject, he would stiffen, his eyes would get shiny and his gaze would blur.
He was afraid of feeling pain.
But Ethan won't hurt him.
They struggle up the stairs in wet jeans in different places, they hold hands, clenching on each other.
This is not how he imagined their first time.
Not in Thomas's teenage room, with Led Zeppelin posters watching them have sex.
But Thomas already has his cheeks wet, he knows what that means, he must hurry.
He takes off his pants and underwear and helps Thomas do the same, the blond sobs as he squeezes his legs together, Ethan looks down, and notices that the erect penis is darker pink, white liquid drops wetting the tip.
"Thom, Thom , can you hold back? - He sees him shake his head as his face crumples - No no no, baby it's okay, it was me, I got carried away, it's not your fault."
"I won't last a second."
He squeezes his cheeks and kisses his salty lips, leads him to the queen-size bed before trying to turn him around.
"If I take you from behind ... it's easier."
The blonde widens his eyes before kissing his hands and shaking his head in denial, lies down on the bed and opens his legs.
"Like this. I want to see you."
"You'll probably feel pain, though..."
Thomas shakes his head again, pulls his legs to his chest to reveal his shiny, red hole.
It looks wider than normal, more open, more ready.
"My God, you're a vision."
He doesn't think twice before pushing his middle and ring fingers inside him, they go in easily, there's no resistance and Ethan is so turned on that he's about to pass out.
He licks his other fingers, pushes them all together, Thomas whimpers under him, but it's not from pain, his opening is wide and shiny, he has never seen it like this, as if he could take him dry, wrap his cock and never let it go.
He smiles looking at his engulfed fingers.
"I've to go get a condom."
Thomas sticks his nails into his shoulders making him hiss, shakes his head, looks at him angrily, Ethan knows what he's thinking, they're both clean, they swallow each other's cum on daily basis and this-
"I feel that I will fuck you all the way, that I won't hold back. There's a chance that I'll make you pregnant."
Thomas's anger turns into laughter, he sees him nod and open his legs more.
"Do you want my children, Thommy?
I warn you, I want many of them. "
He hears him chuckle as he tightens his legs around his hips.
"You'll always have a swollen belly, always.
Don't you want to feel it too?
Our love that takes shape and fills you? "
Ethan pushes a hand on his stomach, sees him widen his eyes and moan, they are at the limit, both of them, but he needed this, a distraction, a trick.
Before grabbing Thom's legs and pushing.
At once.
They both stop breathing.
Thomas's tears run down quickly over his temples, his eyes are still, wide open, his lips parted.
He's tight.
Damn tight, four fingers aren't enough, having a man inside... it's different.
Thomas blinks.
His vision clears up, the pain is acute and yet he feels so full, he holds his lower belly with one hand and feels it hard, he smiles as another tear escapes his control, they're making love.
"Slow down, Ethan."
His voice comes out hoarse but he feels his lips automatically curl, who knows what a mess he must appear in Ethan's eyes, with his red face and drawn features, but that's how it is , he feels a mess, a step in between pain and pleasure, between sadness and happiness.
Ethan begins to push.
Slow, as he asked.
He goes in and out, each new push moves him on the mattress, seems like his body refuses to let go, Ethan is forced to squeeze the other's arms to keep him still but it's not Thom's fault, he is not in control, he just feels long pleasure bursts down his spine, his eyes are open but he sees nothing, his head bursts and feels everything is incredibly full.
He knows he came.
He knows it because his belly is dripping hot liquid, he knows it because he feels like fainting, but he notice that Ethan doesn't care, he continues to over-stimulate him, he hits his prostate several times, swallows his moans with a kiss but it's really too much, it's too much.
He feels strong heat waves invading him after what seems like hours.
It's nice.
Hot.
He squints only to see Ethan kiss his chest, where his heart beats fast.
His long hair covers him, tickles his thin skin, his arms look hard as rocks when he lifts both of them to hold the other's face, Ethan stands up and looks at him with tears in his eyes, Thomas doesn't understand, why?
Why are you crying, Ethan?
A teardrop falls from the tip of the dark haired boy's nose to land on his face, it mixes with sweat, with his own tears, it becomes joy and pain for both.
"I love you like crazy."
They both smile.
They smile to each other.
And for the first time that night Thomas breaks his silence.
His body isn't enough to prove it to him, isn't enough, he must say it, once again.
Ethan is waiting for him.
Thomas purses his lips together while other tears wet his face, tears that are not his own, therefore so precious, these too are a salty gift of Ethan's love, like the white pleasure that fills him right now, and these too deserve to be tasted.
He picked one up with a finger and flavours it, once again the taste seems different to him.
He didn't tell Ethan.
But he still seeks diversity in each of their bodily exchanges.
He wants to learn their differences too.
In their bodies and in their souls.
To be able to love them one by one.
He leans towards the other and waits for Ethan to catch up with him halfway before giving him a completely different kiss.
"Me too.
I love you like crazy."
I made a video edit to give you all a better setting, to show you how different where things at that time, editing this really melted my heart ❣️
See ya for the last chapter!
