3______________Luca wiped the sleep from his eyes as the sun seeped through the closed curtains, hiding the open loggia. He shivered a bit from the cool breeze. Instantly his thoughts went to the events of last night. His coming out to his friends. His reconciliation with his parents. Sandro's injuries. Giano's first lover. He jumped up when his mobile started ringing. He hurried to his jeans and rummaged in the pocket. It wasn't Sandro but Rosso's phone number that appeared in the display. Naked he stood and decided quickly whether to answer it or not. "Rosso?" he said finally.
Luca shrugged. He was cold and crept back into bed. He found the Gondi-cross between the sheets and closed his fingers around the cold metal. "I'm not sure. I have the feeling mother knew somehow."
Luca hooted with laughter. "Tell them to fuck off. And besides, who was wearing stockings yesterday, eh? You think all the musicians are gay?"
Luca's face was a question mark. "Well..." He paused to think. "If you're asking me... why not? I dream of your red hair."
Luca chuckled, but doubted that Sandro would be interested in sausages. That suited him well. He needed cuddling urgently.
Luca was still beaming as the streams of hot water poured over his head. He stood there for a long time, feeling the water prickling his skin, arousing him when the foam slid down his body, meeting his sensitive parts. For the first time Luca felt thoroughly happy. No matter what his brothers would do to him in the future; he felt that he now had protection from his parents. Even his stern father hadn't any further objections. It was probably just a matter of ignorance and prejudices. He would come around in the end. Giano was pressed into the mattress of the bed and felt Tino shoot into his condom. He had come some seconds before and soiled the sheet. Tino lay down against Giano's back, purred satisfied like a big cat and bit softly at Giano's hairline on his neck. "Will you move in with me?" he mumbled sleepily. Giano's eyelashes fluttered and before he could give an answer he had drifted off. An hour later he heard Tino's steady breathing, still lying upon him, his head heavy upon his shoulder blade, his penis still stuck within him. He tried to lift himself up and Tino stirred. "Sorry, buddy. What's the time?" He pulled out carefully, holding the rim of the condom and gave Giano's ass cheeks two resounding kisses. "What a mess we made." Giano turned and felt the sting again, but he didn't mind. He pulled Tino's head down to him and started to kiss him so that Tino panted for breath after a while. "Wow. I don't think I can stand it if you don't wake up with me each morning."
He rolled out of bed, Tino on his heels, then under the shower. Franco and Claudio had left a note on the kitchen table to say that they were out sightseeing. They hadn't any clue about yesterday's events.
Giano found Luca sleeping in a wicker chair in the loggia. An ancient looking book had slid into his groin and he looked peaceful. A golden enamel cross on a golden chain was placed upon his naked chest. Giano had never seen it before. "Luca", he whispered and shook his brother's arm. "Wake up. We have to pick up Sandro." Luca stirred and opened his eyes. Then he stopped the book from sliding down to the ground. "Oh. Did I fall asleep?" He rose and put the book back carefully into a drawer. "Have you eaten?"
Luca clutched it. "Yeah. The Gondi cross."
Luca nodded and pulled on a shirt. "Coming now."
Luca felt a sting of joy despite it all. That meant that Sandro would stay with him for at least another week.
Luca eyed his lover. He hadn't had time to ask what this odd behaviour of
Leoni was all about. But there would be plenty of time to ask later.
Marcello made a step forward.
Niccolò stomped up the stairs. "Marcello? I thought you were in bed. You were too sick to come to church, so hurry up and lay down again."
Marcello's face was priceless. He had thought his father would be on his side surely. "No, pappa, you can't agree to this. Gondi has corrupted Luca with his nasty lusting! You can't allow Luca to be treated like a whore. Have you not heard what they're doing?" Marcello's face had reddened, and so had his father's.
Niccolò stood petrified at first. Marcello had spoken out what he himself secretly thought. But then his reason won the upper hand. He took Marcello's arm firmly and pulled him aside. "Basta così. You're lucky that your mother didn't hear that. Down, Marcello and you," he looked at Luca, "what're you doing?" Luca was too shocked to say anything. Marcello stomped downstairs. "licking the shit from your cocks ... Fucking like stray dogs..."
Luca hurried down, Marcello was nowhere to be seen. Luca felt relief when he saw his mother standing at the stove, cooking the rabbit, the usual Sunday's meal. He smelled the black olives and the red wine, the roasting onions in a pan and suddenly embraced her from behind. He needed that now. He pressed his cheek into her blond, wavy hair and sobbed quietly. Clarissa turned surprised. "Luca? What's happened?" But Luca's eyes were dry. He would never bawl like a kid.
Niccolò entered the kitchen, sat silently at the table and stuffed his pipe.
Luca thought briefly about calling Anastasia. It probably would be a good idea since Luca had to go to work. "Well, the housekeeper. I just have to call her. She's at Fiesole. The Gondi's have a villa there."
Luca shook his head vehemently. "I don't think Dante wants to see me." Clarissa must have missed the quarrel they had lately he thought. Niccolò cleared his throat. "I don't share Marcello's opinion", he said out of the blue to Luca. "I talk to him later." Clarissa looked uncomprehending and then stirred the pot. "You're eating with us?" she asked. Luca shook his head.
Alessandro didn't want to eat. He laid in bed and was dozing. He had difficulty breathing and was lying with an open mouth. So Luca left the rabbit for Giano and Tino who stayed in their room. Luca didn't blame them. He couldn't eat either. To distract himself he pulled out Masolino's diary from the drawer and turned the pages. Masolino's tight handwriting was difficult to decipher, but he had got used to it. He had read it over and over until the end, but was never tired of reading it again. It gave such a clear, visible view of a long gone period of time where the Florentine painter had started to work a miracle in the world. And the best of it was that the result of all this was still there for him to see. He remembered their visit at the Brancacci-chapel, the clear, freshly renovated freschi, telling the story of San Pietro and his miracle deeds and remembered too what really happened in this chapel. Masolino, laying on the marble floor, being penetrated by Masaccio who in turn was being fucked by his own brother... an atrocity even to the free spirited Florentines. And hadn't Masolino mentioned that it was dangerous, that they could get caught because the catholic priests had eyes everywhere?
Alessandro had told him that it was decades after that Florence had become
besotted with young men in their tight stockings, short skirts and pouches,
showing off what they had, or stuffing out what they didn't have. It was the
time of Brunelleschi, Donatello, Verrocchio... and Michelangelo, Leonardo,
born much later, the time of Sodomo, Rosso Fiorentino.... all gay as you can
get.
I was devastated. I prayed it would go away. I prayed it would never go
away. What had started as secret play which we enjoyed, had developed into an
atrocity that was too much for me. I was not so young anymore to accept it
as children's careless play.
Tommaso tensed his leg's muscles. "And here", he slid over his upper thigh with a
handful of olive oil. It glistened instantly in the lamp's light, making the
muscles clearly defined.
With another quick motion he oiled his backside and I knew what was waiting
for me. Oh, the lust! When he was mounting me as he climbed his horse.
When he shook my soul and consumed me. I could not live without that. Even
when it was Giovanni joining us, when I opened my tired eyes again, looking
at the younger brother's backside cheeks clenching and releasing their muscles,
straddling me, and Tommaso was giving him pleasure in caressing his private parts
with his mouth?
I am ashamed. If anyone finds this book of memories I will be dead.
Sodomy. Incest. My head is screaming. Like my body."
From his bed Sandro was looking at him. "Have you finished it? What do you think?"
Luca smiled understanding. He started to undress himself and slipped under the covers. He helped Sandro undressing, careful of his many wounds and stroked Sandro's firm testicles. "Do you think one of them killed Masaccio? Or did he really die of the plague?"
He appeared again above the covers and saw Sandro's chest heaving, a blissful expression on his face. He wiped his mouth and said "Marcello said we lick the shit from our cocks." Alessandro blinked. "This he calls shit?" Gently he wiped white drops from Luca's lips. "I think it has a different colour. Dark like his soul." He kissed Luca's lips, opened them and battled with his tongue. "What should I say about that?" he said then, dropping his head back to the pillow. "Does anyone know about the diary?" His fingers had now found Luca's straining erection and was stroking it gently. Luca moaned and bucked against Sandro's hip. "I doubt it. I take good care to hide it."
Luca sighed and turned to his side, watching Sandro's face.
Alessandro sniffed and then opened the velcro fastening of his mask at the back of his head. He pulled it down and gingerly touched the skin over his nose. He had yellow-brown bruises under his eyes and the top of his nose was reddish. There was a little bump. "How does it look?" he asked silently. "I look like a monster, eh?"
Alessandro gave a sad, disapproving snort and sighed.
Luca had to laugh. "Ah, carino, that's your problem, yes? Did you always take your girlfriends to those activities and now you think I'm bored with you because you can't offer me any of that? Do you really think I'm that shallow?" Alessandro gave him a long glance. "No", he said then slowly. "I don't think you're shallow at all. That's what makes the difference. I've seldom met a guy like you."
Alessandro nodded. Luca grinned. "Now, tell me, what do you want at that church in Rome?"
Luca let out a burst of his pearly laughter. "Without the diary or without me?" Alessandro locked eyes with Luca and bit his lip. "You're a great nurse, so I'll go for the latter", he said with a bit of an effort.
Alessandro fell back onto the pillows and sighed He had never been So helpless in his life before, and he didn't want depend on Luca. It was just embarrassing. But Luca had rolled out of bed and was dressing again. Regretfully Alessandro looked at his naked back. He watched Luca taking his mobile and dialling the number of the Gondi villa at Fiesole. He listened to the short conversation and learned that Anastasia would come tomorrow. And what was he supposed to do here all the time?
Down in the kitchen he found Franco and his friend Claudio at the table, bent over the newspaper. "Ah, Luca, look at this", Franco said.
Luca looked at his teacher, who had taken him aside and was looking at him expectantly.
Luca didn't know what to answer. He shuffled his feet, eager to go away and talk to Tristano who was sitting alone at their table, sorting through his instruments. Coppo sensed that Luca wasn't willing to give him more information. After his talk with Niccolò, Luca's father, he had put two and two together and came to the conclusion that Alessandro Gondi was Luca's boyfriend. Why the young noble man had hung his heart at the even younger, Coppo wasn't quite sure. Luca was a sweetheart, that was obvious, but he certainly couldn't hold a candle to Gondi's colourful personality. Perhaps it was exactly that which Alessandro wanted from Luca: the taming of the shrew so to speak. He remembered well the time when the teenager Alessandro and his so-called friends had been sort of an anti-establishment figures, frightening old women at the cemetery by stealing flowers, interrupting the church services with obscene questions, giving confessions to Padre Castruccio that made the padre start in embarrassment and driving with ear deafening noise through the town on Sunday mornings. Perhaps that had been his way of protesting against the loveless education and upbringing he had suffered. The Gondi's never had been noted for charity and good treatment of others. He looked at Luca's face, from the unruly blond hair, over the dark eyes to the mouth, and detected a determined line around his chin. He had faced his father with the secret he was carrying and Coppo wasn't sure how it had turned out. But there was no way Coppo could ask Luca.
Coppo patted his shoulder. "Then use your imagination."
Tristano looked down. She was complaining that he didn't spend much time with her anymore. Whenever she suggested going swimming or having a coffee in an ice café or doing whatever - he had refused. And he knew distinctly what she wanted: to have his sister Isolde's flat for themselves. Isolde was going in a couple of days to America as an exchange student and her flat was free for that time. His heartbeat fluttered. There was no way he was doing that. The two times he had to sleep with her were certainly enough. Somehow he didn't like it.
Luca apparently had the sixth sense. Tristano nodded and Luca caught a brief, excited flash from his blue eyes.
Luca cocked his head. "I hope I'll be invited for a coffee then." He
grinned and Tristano's heart made a leap. "Surely", he mumbled. And then
Coppo's voice shushed the chattering.
Alessandro dozed in his loggia, his legs upon a chair, his naked upper body in the sun. He had put on his sun glasses and was listening to a CD. The player lay in his lap and he had his eyes closed. He didn't feel the presence of the figure standing to one side, just as its shadow fell over his body he stirred and opened his eyes. Leoni stared at him, her eyes sliding over his body.
From behind her back she produced a bunch of flowers. "For you", she said and grinned stupidly. Alessandro felt pissed. Flowers. From her. "What're you doing here actually? I thought you were in Pisa like the rest of them." He took the flowers. "Thanks for these." Leoni beamed. She wore her shortest, pink skirt and a sleeveless top. Alessandro couldn't be untouched by that. After all there had been a time when he had been keen on her. "I thought I'd look after you. There's nobody else who can, but I was surprised to find Anastasia here. Did you call her?"
Alessandro stared wickedly. "Exactly. I can't remember that you ever were." Leoni's face flamed with red. Only Sandro's injuries stopped her from slapping his face. He had deflowered her - and it was all too clear that the fact didn't make a skilful temple whore of her. Why did men have to be so insensitive. But she held back her anger. Arguing with him wouldn't bring her closer to her aim. She carefully touched Alessandro's naked chest and avoided the red, sore spots where the sand had scraped the skin. "I've learnt a lot more since then", she said with honeyed voice. "I'm not the inexperienced, shy virgin anymore. And besides, you returned to my bed, so you must have enjoyed it. Didn't you?" Her lashes fluttered. He looked her over, from her naked, brown legs over her naked arms to the pink eye shadow. In the old days that weren't that long ago, he continued the sentence in his mind. That was the time of searching and finding for himself. Why not try out hundred percent of humankind and not only the fifty society allowed him? And with a jolt he realized a possibility.
Alessandro laughed out loud. "I don't believe you. Who do you want to lay next? Me? To prove that you can more than to lay stock still like a block of wood and let me do the job?" She blushed at his blunt complaint but decided not to give in. "I can certainly give you a better blow job than the boy", she quipped, not quite convinced. She looked uncertainly at him. Alessandro still laughed and shook his head. "That's not enough."
I don't want to miss too much." Leoni looked disappointed as she followed him. He looked too good dressed only in his jeans, despite his bruises and broken nose. The locks of his brown hair fell into the nape of his neck and Leoni would had given a lot to burrow her fingers into it. Damn Luca Montori who had this all.
Luca looked down at Alessandro while he was straddling him, feeling Sandro's palms stroking up and down Luca's cock as he was riding him. Fresh skin had grown over the cuts on Sandro's skin and the bruises under his eyes had become more and more faint until only a shade reminded him of the accident. His broken nose still made it difficult to breath, but Luca loved to hear his panting although his snoring at night was a little annoying. Luca grinned and tried to concentrate on the thickness that stretched him inside, a slippery sensation like silk rubbing his skin. He slid a bit to the right and an explosion of stars behind his eyes followed. His penis jerked in Sandro's palm and Luca stopped his movements. He didn't want to end it all too soon, despite that Sandro had hit the delicious spot. He bent forward, rested his arms on both sides of Sandro's head and kissed him fervently, careful not to touch his nose. Alessandro was holding him tightly. It had been three days since Leoni's appearance and Sandro still hadn't told him about. The flowers he had given to Anastasia, but his books had arrived along with Leoni's notes of the lectures which were carefully done and very helpful. She apparently had taken a lot of effort with them. Luca twitched his anus and Alessandro moaned into Luca's mouth. "Don't do that or I'll come instantly", he mumbled. Luca giggled.
Luca rose again and looked into his face. "Not yet. Tomorrow. I'll go and help him a bit if that's alright with you?"
Luca moaned and for the next five minutes he said nothing at all until the climax shook him. Like Alessandro he lost his senses for a brief moment. Luca fell forward into Alessandro's arms and lay his head next to Sandro's. "How many months have we been together?" he muttered when his breath had calmed. "Three months?"
A knock on the door disturbed them. "Sandro?" Anastasia's voice sounded through the wooden door. "It's the ambulance come to pick you up. You have to go."
Luca decided to go out and do a bit of shopping; Sandro didn't like it when he was lounging around outside like a nervous clucking mother hen. He couldn't help him at the moment anyway. The heat outside smashed like a hot wash cloth into his face. Inside the Gondi palazzo it was so refreshing cool... After a visit to an alimentari where he bought fresh pasta, a clothes shop where he bought underpants and a new shirt - all from his first pay check - he decided to look at the usual hang out for his school friends. He hadn't seen Rosso since the Saturday of the Gioco. He recognized the red shock of Rosso's hair quickly, as usual bent over his coppa of ice cream. Luca felt a slight sense of unease when he saw Giuliano next to him with a girl on his arm. It wasn't the same one as at the Gioco. Luca sighed but went in, tapped on Rosso's shoulder and said "ciao". Rosso beamed. "Hey, what's up, buddy. Haven't seen you for a while." He patted the seat next to him and Luca dropped onto it. He caught Giuliano's stare and looked away.
Rosso tried to laugh. "Stop this, man", he said to Giuliano. "Luca's right. What's the difference?" Giuliano growled. "There certainly is a difference. I don't fuck the shit..."
Giuliano rolled his eyes but said nothing.
Giuliano and his girlfriend smirked. "Michele said you're a pervert." Rosso made a quick movement and emptied the half full Cinzano glass over Giuliano's lap. Giuliano jumped up, cursing.
Rosso grinned.
Luca smiled and winked. "Too bad, actually." |