Crushed Hopes

—MY HUSBAND'S BEST FRIEND—

It's Sunday evening and it's the official first day of Mason staying at Salvatore home.

Saint refused to discard his parents name and answer Gabriel's instead, at least, they let him keep his parent's name even though they didn't know they were throwing him in the lion's den.

The name 'Salvatore' has gone places. The family name, as heavy as it sounds on the tongues of peasants, it's a name that reflects the blood that runs through the bearer's name.

Before you set foot into Gabriel Salvatore's home, you'd get scanned because let's be honest, a lot of people hate the rich ones and would do anything to get their hands on them and be the last ones to take their dying breaths away.

The gate of Gabriel's mansion has the initials of his name carved into the gate like he's someone born of royalty. It's a magnificent look to the mansion.

Once you successfully step into the compound, you're attacked with pure beauty. The fountain in the center of the huge compound doesn't stop running and it's a little weird because the Cupid in the middle of the fountain doesn't stop peeing, peeing water. It's a beauty to be honest, and the fountain is surrounded by friendly and colorful flowers.

The huge compound has a basketball court at the side because believe it or not, Gabriel was an Oxford university graduate and a basketball prodigy. The court isn't too big but enough to contain more than the usual twelve players.

The other side of the compound has a swimming pool, it's basically a swimming pool area with a beach-like semi experience. There are beach chairs and umbrellas hanging over them to create shade from the harsh sun and Saint spends most of his time there acting like he owns the mansion.

The mansion is huge obviously, with thorns around the walls as designs. It's almost a replica to most schools that have friendly grasses covering the walls and it's a beautiful sight to look at.

The mansion is covered in white paint, every part of it. Now imagine the thorns around some areas, gorgeous.

There are tons of rooms, more than Saint can count and he doesn't think he's seen all the rooms because most of them are locked.

Gabriel doesn't let him into most of the room and even though the curious part of him always aches to break Gabriel's rules, he always holds back.

Now it's evening and Saint is in his room, looking outside, appreciating the beauty of his husband's home. The lights are on but the light coming from the moon shining down on the compound has to be Saint's Favourite source of light.

He suddenly hears two people talking and he peeks his head outside of the window even more to identify the owners of the voice and he sees Gabriel and Mason.

Gabriel is carrying a basketball and bouncing it and he's laughing at what Mason is saying.

Saint wishes he could make him laugh like that, maybe once even though it's a fake laugh, he knows he'd appreciate it.

He stares at them as they make their way to the court. Gabriel bounces the ball a few times before throwing it into the net.

Both men are in plain dark shorts and tank tops and they're already sweating too from throwing the ball around.

Saint doesn't know who he wants to look at more. Gabriel or Mason?.

They're both gorgeous men and even though he's always desired Gabriel, he really can't ignore the attraction he also has for Mason.

Speaking of Mason, Saint waited last night, hoping Mason would show up in his room but he didn't. He took it that he was still busy talking about whatever with Gabriel.

This morning too, he didn't get to see either men and they didn't have breakfast with him because they had something to handle, at least that was what Caroline told him.

Saint thinks he even feels more attracted to Mason because of his blonde hair. He looks so good with it, so fuckeable.

Saint doesn't help it when his fantasies run wild, he has tons of those and he lets himself dwell in it.

Even though he knows he could only dream about having Gabriel in his bed, all over him, that still doesn't stop him for hoping from something more, in the long run.

Saint continues to watch both men, laughing and throwing the ball around. He doesn't know who's winning and honestly, he doesn't care. He's more interested in how good they look, all sweaty and manly.

Saint knows that if he continues watching them, it really won't take long for him to give his cock the relief it's been seeking for, for days.

It's already been a week since he slept with Mason and he'd be lying if he says he doesn't want more, more from the man since Gabriel has no plans of giving him anything other than stupid cheek pecks. Saint likes those though, at least Gabriel shows him affection even though it's all pretense.

The next thing that happens leaves Saint's jaw on the ground. Both men are now shirtless and their body—God.

Saint shuts his eyes briefly then opens them. They're bodies are immaculate, glistening with sweat and he sees Gabriel's shoulder arm tattoo and he groans. He really doesn't know why Gabriel affects him so much.

Then Mason, his name even sounds amazing to moan.

Saint didn't know his name before, during their little and very passionate night together but now he knows, he wants nothing more than to moan the man's name countless times.

He's a mess, he wants Gabriel but he can't have him and he also wants Mason but he can't have him. He doesn't know how to initiate something with Mason, he's too shy to do something about it.

He doesn't want Mason to think he only wants him around just for the pleasure he can give him—okay, that's why he wants him around.

Both men seem to be exhausted from all the running around and they're making their way back into the house. Saint watches as their head disappears from his gaze and he groans.

He suddenly wants both of their hands on him.

Saint hears his name downstairs and it's Gabriel, it's obvious.

He's calling him while he's still shirtless and about to torment the poor lad.

Saint adjusts his shorts and leaves his room. Walking down the flight of stairs is a horror when two beautiful men are looking at him.

'Have some shame and stop having lewd thoughts'.

Saint finally gets to them, they're still shirtless and sweaty and he wants to touch both of them and maybe lick their body?.

"You called me."

Gabriel nods and takes his hand.

A surprised gasp leaves Saint's mouth as Gabriel guides him to the kitchen.

Saint turns over his shoulder to look at Mason who's still standing on his spot, not moving.

Gabriel grabs himself a bottle of water, his other hands firmly holding Saint's wrist. He tips his head back and starts drinking. Saint can't bring himself to look away, away from the man's throat. Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he drinks, droplets of the water falling past his throat and sliding down his chest.

There's a whine bubbling in Saint's throat, like he wants to submit, he wants to lick Gabriel's throat and leave marks on his neck and his shoulder blade too.

God—he just wants to get crushed by Gabriel's big arms.

Gabriel throws the empty can into the sink and turns to look at Saint who's staring at his nipples, shamelessly.

Gabriel scans Saint's petite body, eyeing his exposed thighs and wondering what more those tiny shorts are hiding.

He lets his grip falter from Saint's wrist and instead, his hand circles around Saint's waist and Saint blinks at him in surprise.

"Gabriel..." Saint whimpers, stepping closer to his husband to press up against him, for their chest to meet.

'Please, kiss me' Saint begs, in his head. His eyes are flickering from Gabriel's lips back to his eyes, just back and forth.

"Why haven't you gone to bed?"

The way Gabriel is looking at Saint has the latter shuddering. Gabriel hasn't looked at him like that, ever. He'd know if Gabriel has but he really hasn't looked at Saint like he's some kind of meat, one he wants to tear apart with his touch.

"I-I'm not sleepy, yet," Saint cowardly answers, both his hands on his sides, enjoying the warmth, the burn of Gabriel's arm around his waist. "Gabriel...." please do something.

Gabriel nods and his arm leaves Saint's waist. Saint looks at him, clearly confused and he wants to scream.

Why does Gabriel play with his emotions all the time?

"Good game pal, good night." Gabriel says to Mason, not even sparing Saint a look. He runs up the stairs and walks into his room, shutting it and leaving the two men downstairs in complete awe.

Saint is embarrassed. It's also probably an understatement as to what he's currently feeling. Mason witnessed the whole thing, how his body reacted to Gabriel immediately. The soft whimpers that left his mouth and the constant calls of Gabriel's name.

Mason saw the whole thing and now Saint has to clear his throat to dissipate the awkward tension.

He walks past Mason and climbs up the stairs, to his room.

Saint is flustered, frustration evident on his features and that's what happens when you expect too much from someone.

He raises his shirt up to stare at the tent in his shorts, clear and way too obvious and he knows he has to do something about the painful ache in his cock.

His door suddenly swings open and a shirtless Mason walks in, and locks the door.

Saint stares at him in confusion as the man makes his way towards him.

"Mason, do you need anything?" Saint asks with wide eyes. Mason is now standing in front of him, close enough for the heat radiating from his body to wash all over Saint's.

"You said you wanted to touch me, right?"

His voice— he sounds good, nice and almost comforting to listen to.

"Y-yes." Saint splutters, fidgeting with his finger and he wants to touch so bad.

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Touch me all you want"

Saint's eyes shut, his stomach clenching hotly, mouth suddenly gone dry after registering what Mason said.

Heat curls, anxious and yearning, in the pit of Saint's stomach. He bites at his lip, eyelashes fluttering when Mason reaches up, tugging with a scolding click of his tongue until Saint's lip pops free from his teeth.

Mason takes a deep breath, he's getting affected too from being so close to Saint. "I meant what I said, you can touch me."

Saint stares at the man's chest, so similar to Gabriel's. He wonders just how long they spend in the gym to get this body.

"Can I really touch you?" Saint asks, unsure if he's really allowed to trace the lines of Mason's pecs with the tip of his fingers.

Mason reaches out to place his hand at the back of Saint's neck, rubbing gently "Yes, baby."

Saint's thighs squeeze tighter to curb his arousal. The prickling warmth of humiliation but he feels dazed, too, meek and submissive from having his neck scruffed like that. He's already riled up from the moment Gabriel touched him and now another mature presence is in front of him, half naked and urging him to touch.

Saint meets Mason's shifted gaze and lets his hand rest on Mason's chest and it burns. His whole body just—wants. He lets his hand explore down Mason's chest who does nothing but keep staring into Saint's eyes.

Those beautiful eyes, uncertain yet so pretty.

Saint's lips find its way to tuck under his teeth as his hands trail lower and then stop at the waistband of Mason's shorts. Every reminder of how big Mason is as he remembers from their other night together seems to add to the desire heating Saint up inside, the yearning.

He's too shy to tell Mason that all he wants is for the older man to pin him down, bite him and ruin him for life.