Vincenzo Devellis

I couldn't believe the sight before me right now. I couldn't remember anything that happened the night before, just that Martin and his friends from school came over and we got super drunk until we blacked out.

Why am I laying down next to a naked guy?

I'm in a pickle! Even if I was drunk, how could I do it with one of Martin's friends? I'm pretty sure there were girls there too! How did I end up with a guy? What the hell was I thinking?

At least we're waking up at different times, and it seems like he's fast asleep. I should take this chance to leave first right? I can't talk to someone that upon closer inspection looked covered in fresh love bites, especially someone I didn't know the name of. In fact, I'd rather not even say good morning. As I sat up to grab my clothes, I felt a hand touch my arm. 

FUCK!

"You should wake me up before you leave," the guy mumbled with a heavy accent. Shit! "Especially next time."

NEXT TIME?! I whipped my head around quickly at the ludicrous statement, but was quickly shut down. He was pixie-small, with a fetchingly crescent waist and jutting collar bones that was covered in obscene marks. His hair was like a shiny red brush fire the way it stood up from the static. His skin was a warm beige that glowed under the merciless sun that backdropped over his naked body. His eyes were feline and utterly luminous, as if they had projected their own ray beams. He fixed his dainty hair strands to the side of his face.

He was a pretty boy, almost as tempting as Danny was, except more more feminine. No one in their right mind would question how such a beauty ended up in their bed, let alone forget everything that happened with said beauty. In fact, I was beginning to think that I had lost my mind a little bit myself. It still wasn't going to fly with me whatsoever.

"You...look, about last night, I don't usually do this so I'm not sure what to say. Should we just assume nothing happened and go our separate ways never to speak of this again?" I groaned. He looked at me with a blank expression making the air in the room awkward. "I guess, you could still stay for breakfast." He continued to stare at me blankly. "Well, I'll just get up then if you have nothing to say."

"Vincenzo," he grabbed my hand and suddenly looked incredibly upset. "Did you just use me as a pump and dump?"

How am I the bad guy here?! I was obviously black out drunk! "I was-"

"I'm kind of hurt. I never thought that my first time would be so painful, and I can barely move-"

"No, that.....wait, what?" I'm so confused! This was obviously a drunken one night stand! Why was he making me feel guilty about it?

"You really want to pretend you didn't ravage me after you brought me into your room? I didn't think-"

I covered his mouth with my hand because I couldn't hear anymore. It was stories like this that kept me from doing one night stands in the first place, but I encountered this problem on my first time. 

"Listen, I'm not running away. I actually thought you wouldn't think so much of it." I lied.

"Why would you think that?" He asked. "I like you Vincenzo. Do you not like me? Should we just pretend it didn't happen? I don't think I can...."

"It's not like that," this is awkward. How do I get out of this without feeling like the bad guy? I feel like I'm saying all the wrong things at the moment.

"Does that mean you like me too?" He asked. For fucks sake! I don't even know your name! 

"I'm.....not sure about that either," why can't I find a middle ground with this guy? The old me would have absolutely no problem talking my way out of this, even if it meant crushing his self esteem. I can't believe that as soon as I decided to try and be a decent person, I get hit with this. God must be testing me on a higher difficulty level now. "I'm not exactly the greatest person, and I'm in therapy right now.....I'm actually not a good person."

"Was it not good for you?"

"I don't remember any of it because I was drunk. I don't even know your name."

"It's Rocco Lombardi. I'm from Milan and you're from Rome, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Oh....well, then how about going with the flow?"

He wasn't going to let up? I was going to be stuck with an unwanted attachment for a while wasn't I? Italians and their stubbornness. "Listen, Rocco-"

"Sta' calmo, Vincenzo!" Rocco interrupted. How dare he tell me to calm down? I should be freaking the fuck out right now! I'm the one who woke up with a guy in bed next to me! Why wouldn't I be freaking the fuck out right now?! "Let's date, and if you don't feel it after a month or two, we'll go our separate ways."

"I was drunk!"

"So was I, but you still took my virginity, and I can't move, so you have to at least take some responsibility for me."

"Responsibility?"

"Of course, you've deflowered my pure and innocent body, and it doesn't seem like you appreciate it at all, you jerk!" He started to let a few tears out.

"Just tell me what the hell happened after we started drinking last night. Then I'll give you a straight answer," I sighed. It should buy me some time to think of a way to get out of this predicament. I just have to stall for as long as I could.

"Well, my sister and I came over with this new bottle of wine from Italy. After we were four cups in, you started asking what part of Italy I was from. Then you told me how nice it was to meet someone from back home since you don't know anyone else that can speak fluent Italian outside your family," he recounted. Shit, that probably means that I flirted with him first. This really was all my fault. "You then started talking about how lonely you've always been and how you just wanted someone to love you the way you were. I knew how you felt because people at school don't like me, so I suggested that I keep you company. After I said that, you picked me up and carried me to your room and we had sex. All throughout you kept telling me not to worry and that you'll take care of me now and you were extremely gentle. To think you forgot all of it."

I've never hated being a smooth guy before today. "Um, then I'll stick to my word. I'm sorry that I forgot, I just haven't drank in a long time," I put my head in my hands. I'm such a fucking idiot! Why did I say those things? "Since we're going to try this out, you have to be aware of my current circumstances-"

"You told me last night, you loved someone named Danny, who you've been friends with since childhood, but you didn't know how to love someone, so you fucked up the entire relationship by bullying him after mistaking obsession for romantic love. You've also been going to therapy to fix yourself, and help your depression," he said. "I'm fully aware of it, I can tell how much you care about that Danny kid. You even got super upset after seeing the press release of them at some club together, so it's no secret."

"Then why would you want to date me?" I asked. Aren't people supposed to think better of themselves to try for a relationship like this? Why was he so insistent.

"A part of me is worried for you, another thinks you're too sexy and I want that for myself," he said.

"Why would you be worried about me?"

"I know what unrequited love feels like and how much it hurts, so I thought I could help you too," Rocco said. "You told me your story, so I'll tell you mine. I dated a college student that tutored me for free at church. He wanted us to date, and I very interested in him. Both my parents were too busy with work to really notice it. He showered me with gifts and love bombed me, but he wouldn't touch me at all, telling me that as men of faith, we should remain pure. Pretty soon, I took a trip with him to the middle of nowhere where there was just a shitty hippy commune. It was supposed to be a trip just about us but it wasn't long before I realized that I had been lured into a prayer cult under a false pretense.

"I managed to run away, of course, being as small as I was, I was caught. He beat me until I was unconscious and left me there when he thought I was dead. Luckily a pair of midnight hikers found me before a bear could, and they brought me into the hospital. I stayed there in a coma for six months. I know it doesn't seem like much, but even though the guy wouldn't touch me, he managed to make himself the center of my universe just because I was depressed and lonely. The worst part was when I woke up, that was when I realized that I was never really loved by him at all. 

"I got so depressed that my parents sent me back to Italy to live with my grandparents for a while. I'll admit it helped me a lot, but no matter how much help I received, the loneliness remains. It's a bit selfish of me, but I'm set on trying this. Maybe we could help each other." Rocco didn't look at me as he told me his story, and I really felt for him. I just wasn't sure that someone like me, who was so thirsty for love, should accept this and risk making a bad situation worse.

The worst part of this situation is that I understood him feeling abandoned. I'm sure he was thinking that sleeping together was proof of not being alone enough, but all it does is just bring more pain. "I'm not being abandoned" is probably what went through his head non stop because if he thought otherwise, he'd fall into the abyss. 

Would it be beneficial to me as well? Dr. Mancini said that dating someone new when I was ready will help me moving forward. He assured me plenty of times that I can find the type of company I wanted, I just had to take a chance. I mean, if worse comes to worse, he said we'll go out separate ways.

I liked him enough when I was drunk, I just have to take the risk. 

"Is there anything you want me to do?" I asked finally just looking at him. When our eyes met, he started to go red in the face, and the blush spread all the way down to his torso. 

"What do you mean?" He mumbled.

"Since we're dating is there things you want me to do as your boyfriend? I don't have a very good record with the girls I've dated," I admitted. Since I was never sure how to treat women, I admit I did just neglect my past girlfriends and only went to them to get laid, but it was never to late to learn. "I-If you can be patient with me."

"It might take more than two months," I suddenly saw why I brought him into my bed last night. A deep deep loneliness that's never been recognized mixed in with tons of regret and resentment. I think the saying is trash recognizes trash. 

"Then just drop the time limit," I said. It was an easy solution in my eyes. "Is there anything you want me to do?"

"C-can you come pick me up after school?" He asked.

"I can do that," they get off school an hour after I do anyway.

Rocco instantly perked up. "And I want to exchange gifts on anniversaries and Valentine's Day! Oh and let's call each other every day and-"

"Slow it down, I can't remember everything at once," I said.

"Am I already being annoying?" 

"I don't think so," I said. Rocco seemed to be stuck in an internal crisis at the moment. "Um, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple....or um, maybe yellow. Maybe black, I'm not really sure."

"L-let's just....I don't know, we'll figure it out," I said. The doctor said this kind of connection might help me feel more grounded. I think I'd like to take the risk of nurturing a loving relationship. I had the chance to do it right this time.

And if I didn't fuck it up, I'd never be alone again.

"Then it's settled," Rocco jumped up but immediately fell down and groaned in pain. It looks like I did a number on him. "I'll.....ugh, I'll go get cleaned up."

"Um, do you want help?" I asked.

"You don't have to if-"

"I'll help you. Stay here," I ordered. He shook at my tone, so I added gently "relax." My voice was steady, but my legs felt like jelly as I made my way slowly to the bathroom.

When I got back, Rocco had collapsed on the bed, partially draped over the side, his ass sticking up all red and well-used. Despite seeming to have done it all night, I felt a reaction shoot right to my dick. He smirked at me but said nothing.

I cleaned him gently with the warm, damp washcloth I had brought with me. I used it to clean the trail of my spunk off his leg that had leaked out of him, then put it aside. I'm sure the bed was covered in semen and sweat anyway. Then, I pressed a second warm cloth to Rocco's rosy-patched ass, before I gently massaged the area with some lavender oil I found in the bathroom. As I tried to be as gentle as possible, I couldn't help but feel remorse seeing how I had bettered him. Eventually, his body relaxed into my ministrations. Stretched out on the bed, he looked like he was about to fall asleep as I stepped back.

He looked up at me dreamily, but then, as if realizing it was me shook his head to wake up to a more alert state.

"None of this looks very gentle to me," I pointed out. "Are you sure it was good?"

"Yeah, Martin had to bang on the wall to tell us to shut up multiple times. That's how good it was," Rocco assured me.

Instead of overthinking it, I was getting lost in the motions of the massage, and I let my hands drift up Rocco's back. I could feel a lot of tension in his muscles, which couldn't possibly be healthy for people our age, so I squirted on more gel and continued with my ministrations. Eventually, when I got up to his shoulders, he began to moan appreciatively.

I trailed my fingertips back down to his ass and gave it a final squeeze. Nice, there was enough to grip.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Rocco's voice broke the quiet mood.

"Wouldn't you like to know," I teased, as I got up from the bed.

"You're not going to tell me?"

"Nope," I leaned causally in his doorway as he stared back at me with a frustrated expression. "Fine, it's from when I was playing football, I had to learn to massage my sore muscles."

"Clean up your fucking room," Rocco said with a final smirk.

"Rocco, get some sleep, I'll make some food." I said while exiting the room after covering him back up. 

There were so many reasons why I wanted to turn him down, but would you believe I couldn't even think of one? I still felt that I was a bad guy though, and a small part of me screamed that I was betraying Danny in someway. Of that, I was absolutely certain, but I couldn't deny that I did feel an attraction to him. His body was strong, small, and warm. I didn't hate the way he felt, and I wanted to feel more after I saw what he looked like. I wouldn't mind touching his skin, hair, and feel his lips on mine. I didn't know what Rocco wanted with me, but I also wanted to not be lonely. I wasn't cut from his same cloth as him. If I slept with him again, would it even be good?

"Look who's awake! You have a fun night?" Martin said from the kitchen. "You must have! It's almost like you forgot that other people live here."

"Sorry."

"How was it?"

"I don't remember a thing, but apparently we're dating now," I sighed pulling out what I needed to make a frittata. 

"What the fuck?" Martin look absolutely flabbergasted. "Rocco? He's the real deal, you know that? They say he's beaten up many people, and one more will get him deported, but people leave out that people try to attack him first because of his looks. Someone also spread a rumor that he's easy." That can't be right. Did I just fall into a trap? I don't really think I did, I mean, his face looked really sincere. "Luckily it's just a rumor. He's a good kid, there's something off about him though."

"Like?"

"His favorite hobby is punching people in the face. He's a ball of rage, don't piss him off. Remember when I had that black eye?"

"That was him?" I asked remembering that Martin's eye had been swollen shut until recently. That kid really packed a punch, didn't he? If I fucked up, would I get beat up too?

"That smells good," Martin said. "I guess that's one good quality that you do have. You're the best cook I've ever met. At least you'll finally have someone other than Sam coming over."

"Yeah," I chuckled nervously.

"You better tell your friends to be nice to him," Martin warned and I smirked at that. Friends. My friends aren't exactly my favorite people. They're more like props. "If you've even made any at school."

Martin was definitely trying to be subtle, and seriously failing. I smile and nod as he walks out the kitchen and back into his room, presumably with Rocco's sister. 

"You know there's only Sam." I mumbled.

As for his not-so-subtle request, I doubt that will happen. I've never had a really good friend other than him, Sam and Danny and there was no desire in me to acquire a new one. If I feel pent up, I have my fist and the Internet....well I guess now I had Rocco for that. So I had enough.

Every once in a while, I used to find myself wondering why—whenever my friends whine about one of their chicks getting them down—but I never dwell on the subject for too long. I never dwell on anything for long. If something is lingering at the back of my brain, itching at me for its attention, I have therapy to run too.

Once I was finished with the frittata, I pulled out the skillet as breakfast options were limited. Eggs, bacon, and French toast which meant...bread, sugar, salt, milk, butter, syrup. After years and years of experimenting with my French toast recipe, I knew the ingredients by heart. My French toast—it was great. Rocco was going to love it. It was delicate yet firm, and sweet but not too sweet. About five minutes later, Rapunzel had laid her ingredients on one of the kitchen counters, fired up the stove, and was began to cook.

Two eggs sunny side up was no problem. I maneuvered the frying pan dexterously. After all, I'd had years of practice using it in one capacity or another. I kind of hoped Rocco would react more favorably to this.

Hey, he had to. The delicious smell of peppered fried eggs and sizzling bacon was causing my stomach to scream for food. Food was delicious. Period. Rocco was going to love this.

I slid the eggs and bacon onto a plate and put a bowl over them, to keep in the heat until the French toast was finished. The preparation for the French toast was mechanical. Break eggs, beat in milk, sugar, and salt. Soak bread in mixture and place in buttered skillet. Cook until golden brown and utterly and completely scrumptious. Lean in, breathe aroma deeply, slide onto a plate, and dig in—

No, wait. Don't dig in. Rocco was going to dig in. I placed sliced strawberries on the side to break up the white plate's negative space, lightly criss-cross the bread with amber syrup—oh, this looked good. Not only good, but artistic. Really, a plate was just another canvas. The problem with that was that it was a canvas that would only last for a very short amount of time. I hoped Rocco would appreciate the artistry involved in setting up the food.

Place two plates on tray, pour an espresso. Find a knife, fork, and napkin. Return the remaining food to where i'd found it, clean up after myself and—and done, just in time.

I hummed on my way to my room. I didn't know what song I was really humming exactly, just an abstract tune that wandered around whatever notes flew into my head. Whatever tune it was, it was a happy one. 

Rocco slept on his stomach, face almost suffocating in my pillow. All I could identify was his red brown mop of hair and his back...but what a back it was, bare and, although relaxed, very defined, feminine. Feeling the heat rising to my cheeks, it occurred to me that he couldn't eat if he was sleeping. Maybe i'd better sneak out now. He'd wake up and find the food—it wasn't as if my presence was really—

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Rocco hadn't moved an inch. The words came out muffled through my pillow. Imagine that—an guy like him was a light sleeper.

Well, there was nothing to do now but go through with my original idea. "I hope you're hungry."

"If it tastes half as good as it looks and smells then I think I can find it in myself to forgive you for waking me up," He teased, chuckling when I smiled and blushed.

"Thank you," I said.

Rocco took a big bite and his eyebrows shot up pretty far. "Yummy..." he whispered in awe. "I thought this would be horrible like your personality, but I'm glad that it's not!" Rocco said cheerfully, as he gave me a backhanded insult. He seemed truly impressed by the amount of work I had put out into making us breakfast.

He stabbed the French toast covered with syrup and a strawberry with his fork and put in his mouth, eating it slowly, and savored each bite as his face was filled with bliss from the tasty flavor.

"Want a bite?" Rocco already held out a piece with the least amount of syrup and powdered sugar on it and a few fruits on his fork. 

"Heh, sure." I parted my lips as I leaned towards Rocco, one hand grabbing his hand with the fork while the other one was under the food to prevent it from falling onto the bed. Rocco's blush returned even darker than before.

"I'd kill to eat some more of your food, Vinny."

"Then we'll just have to spend more time together over here!"

"Really? You wouldn't mind me coming over so I can eat your cooking?" 

"No! I wouldn't mind at all! I'm glad you like it!" I said bluntly. "You know, I just had free time on my hands today, don't think that just because you spend the night here, I'll make breakfast every time." I was unable to look at Him as I said this.

"That doesn't sound like no though," Rocco laughed at my uncomfortable expression before pulling himself onto my lap and wrapping his hands around my waist. "Feed me, I'm feeling weak."

I picked up the fork, filling it with some French toast and egg that was still slightly warm.

Rocco watched me as I wordlessly held the fork in front of the his mouth, and I blinked, eyes flickering to him in the glow of the sunlight through the window- a question of trust flitting across his face- before he obediently opened his mouth and let me feed him.

I wonder why he even asked me to do this!

I never thought i'd see myself spoon-feeding someone that seemed like he was as docile as a kitten, but it felt like I was doing something very important. The only sound in the room was the scraping of the fork on the plate and him chewing, and the silence was safe- it was comfortable. I couldn't lie that it felt nice to feel needed, and at least he wasn't afraid of me.

"I hope this stuff is better than what you usually eat," I joked, mostly to fill the silence as I scooped up another forkful of food.

"It really is good," Rocco chewed. "I should just go home soon." He told me as he looked outside, probably noticing that he had been out longer than he thought. "I'm not that far from my apartment."

"I'll walk you home," I offered.

"Why are you walking me home?" Rocco asked. Was I not supposed to? Do I take it back now? I mean, what other reason was there to walk someone home after they spend the night? Didn't people like it when you do that for them.

"Well, to protect you I guess. There are a lot of psychos out there, you know, and I'm trying to be a gentleman and do things I haven't done before," I answered, hesitantly, feeling like I had suddenly said the wrong thing. I didn't exactly think he'd take that response the wrong way, but it seemed like he did.

"What kind of nonsense is that?" he asked, squinting up at me, disapprovingly. "I walked around the neighborhood alone all the time, way before you even moved here, and I'll keep doing it when you get done with putting up with me because I'm small."

"What makes you think that I look down on you?" I asked, "I just thought that this is what I'm supposed to do. And as a boyfriend, shouldn't I think it's my right to walk you to your apartment."

"Oh," he answered, "That's still dumb."

"Well, what did you want me to say?" I asked. 

"Nothing, never mind," he answered, looking down while starting to get dressed. "I just didn't think about that.". Her hair all fell in front of his eyes, and he brushed it away, with a slick grin. I couldn't help but keep staring at him. "What?" Rocco asked looking up at me, and squinting again.

"What? I think we should get to know each other as I'm spending time with you or something like that. Isn't that what I should do?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Past girlfriends told me many times that they wished I would walk them home, I just never cared enough to try it. Since he seemed against it, I was shocked to see the streak of red burst across his tanned complexion. He'd probably kill me if I ever pointed it out, but he blushes quite prettily.

"I wanted nothing of the sort," he responded, punching me in the arm. "Don't flatter yourself, Ranger bob. You should be flattering me."

"Looks like someone needs a little attention," I said, teasing but not cruelly. "Well what can I say? You're beautiful and you've got a great ass. That's all i really know so far to try and flatter, right?"

"So you think I have a great ass," he said instead, choosing to go the joking route instead of the more serious one.

"You know you do," i glanced at him, and now it was his turn to smirk at me.

"Seems like I'm growing on you."

I turned to him and said, "Like a nasty smelling fungus."

"Still doesn't change the fact that you're interested me. Admit it, I mean, how can you not? It's the Italian charm," Rocco grinned widely at me, "Even you American Italians just can't resist it."

"You wish," i rolled my eyes, "That only works on stupid people."

"And you. Fess up, Vinny, you're enjoying that you got a taste of this."

I had expected him to tell me to shut up again, but instead I wasn't sure of what to say now. For some reason there was suddenly tension and I feel like it was fault that it came up. He looked incredibly bothered."Um, did I say something wrong?"

I noticed how long his eyelashes were and how they looked like butterfly wings when he blinks, not to mention his lips were very plump. He bit the bottom one, and I practically groaned, I could bet he knew exactly what that lip bite did to people, inexperienced bisexual males like me, for that matter.

"What would you do if you did?" he says, in this way makes the hairs on back of my neck stick up. His breath smells like nicotine and it smelled exactly like the brand I used to smoke.

"I, um-," I began, but right now his mouth was slightly open, inviting me in as he kept on leaning closer, and I couldn't think of a single word, let alone finish the sentence. He leans in and just as I decided to lean in and meet him in the middle, he lets out a ton of laughter. It sounds like bells, and in a different situation I might find it cute, but right now it just was killing my self esteem.

"I can't hold it anymore!" he finally burst out, pushing me away from him. He was bent over at his knees, laughing at me. "You should've seen your expression!"

I was still unsure of what exactly had just happened or why he was laughing at me so hard. I know how to kiss, so what was so funny? Was him being upset the joke or was this entire thing a joke? "That was not very nice. I did say that I'm new to this shit. I don't even know what the fuck I did wrong."

"Ah, fine, it's kind of my fault. People treated me like a girl since I look feminine and I hate it. I still get sensitive about it sometimes, so stop treating me like a girl."

"I've only ever had girlfriends," I pointed out.

"So what? Don't treat me like a girl!"

"I'm walking you home and that's the end of it." I said, a little indignant. 

"No!"

"Im trying to be nice here! If I was going to treat you like a girl, you wouldn't still be here! You'd be in an Uber and I would've blocked your number by now! Accept it or don't, but I'm trying to be a nice person now because I'm tired of being an asshole. If you don't like that then-"

"Fine whatever!" Rocco rolled his eyes before wrapping his arms around my neck and straddling me. "Relax, I was just playing with you. Hold me closer!" I grabbed at his tiny waist, pulling his hips into mine, and he ran his nose along my jaw, breathing me in. 

He whispered my name as his lips left a damp trail across my cheek, stopping when they reached mine. There was no pressure, just our panting breaths tickling each other's skin. A kind of teasing I don't think I've ever experienced.

I leaned in deciding to take the initiative. I was unsure as of what he should really be doing, since Rocco wasn't a girl. I mean, this was no different than kissing a girl, except the fact that Rocco was a guy. Rocco bit my upper lip nervously and sort of looked at my mouth instead of my eyes.

"Should I go first?" I asked hesitantly, not knowing if he was waiting me to make a move.

"We should go together," Rocco said setting his hands on my shoulders and looking into my eyes again. They were cute and his eyebrows were bunched up in a way that said 'I'm scared and nervous, but it'll be okay'. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice both tender and hard-ass mixture I was unable to deny. I could feel that his heart was pounding in his chest, I could feel the blood in my ears, and my breathing hitched as he finally—finally—leaned in, and his warm, soft lips brushed lightly against mine.

Rocco let out an involuntary whimper as I put some effort into it, desperately craving more of what I was doing. I knew he felt my triumphant smirk as i pressed my mouth a little firmer against his, showing him that I was no amateur. Our lips moved achingly slowly together, melding to one another with a fevered intensity.

Most first kisses in a relationship, in my experience, were tender and gentle, sweet and innocent and could probably be done in a high school. This kiss may have started off that way, but maybe it was the because of what happened last night, maybe it was all this awkwardness around each other and the fevered pitch of all the sexual tension and nervous anticipation that caused us to go into a frenzy once our lips met and turned this kiss so heated and hungry.

My tongue glided along his bottom lip, demanding entrance, which he obliged eagerly. My tongue wrestled deeply with his, probing and exploring the warm wetness of his mouth. He moaned, only heightening my desire and need for release and loosening my shaky grip on control. Rocco's hold on control seemed to be gone, as he melted into him effortlessly.

My open hand against his back moved up and down his skin, and then slowly, hesitantly, because I was suddenly unsure of how much was too much and where the line was, moved around to his side, my thumb brushing along his ribs just a hair under his chest, and my other fingers stretched and curved around his side.

But he didn't stop me. Hell, he didn't even notice that he had given me full control. All my attention was focused on the amazing, heady feel of his mouth on mine, his lips moving with mine, my tongue tangling and dancing with his in a complicated and seductive rhythm.

Whether it was being pent up for so long or pure lust or an intoxicating combination of both, it consumed me, especially when Rocco gave in as his hands gripped handfuls of my hair, his body arching even more into my touch as my fingers twisted and pinched lightly at his hardened nipples.

My dick throbbed painfully in my jeans, and I inadvertently rubbed himself against his jeans. Fuck, why did I tell him to put them on? I wanted him—no needed him, so fucking bad. I had to rein it in quick, but it was so hard, in more ways than one. I didn't have the strength to pull away.

And he wasn't stopping me especially with those erotic moans he kept letting out.

Suddenly, there was a loud, echoing rap at the door, but I was only snapped out of it by a hard bite to my lip. "Ow!"

"Martin's there!" Rocco snapped at me. 

We were both frozen for half a second before scrambling awkwardly into seated positions. Rocco quickly tried to pull down his shirt as he also tried to smooth down his tousled hair.

I tried to discreetly adjust myself, my face flaming in embarrassment as I caught Rocco's eyes on my obvious and hard on. When he gasped quietly in surprise, my embarrassment turned into a prideful seductive smirk, and i winked at him when his eyes shot back up. Pride didn't begin to cover it.

He didn't smile back. The opening of the door, the presence of Martin looking red with embarrassment at catching his housemate and friend in such a compromising position, quickly changed the atmosphere in the room.

I gulped nervously, my normal bravado and over confidence leaving me under the glare of who I assumed to be Rocco's sister. Her teeth were clenched, and her jaw flexed as she took in the scene in front of her.

Truthfully, the silence with so thick that it sent Rocco scrambling clumsily to his feet, a nervous laugh escaping his mouth as he realized just how abnormal this all was. He quickly clasped his hand over his mouth as his sister shot her a warning glare.

"Sofia, it's not a big deal," Rocco said.

"Then he should have no problem meeting mommy and daddy," Sofia said smugly crossing her arms.

"He was going to walk me home," Rocco crossed his arms back at her.

"Is that true?" She shit her glare at me. "Are you at least being safe?"

I looked over at the small trash can in my room, and it was void of any kind of condom wrapper and there was no condom in sight. The only evidence of anything happening was all over Rocco's body, but most importantly, I did it raw for the first time and I have zero recollection of it!

What a waste!

"Yes we did," Rocco lied. "Not that it's your business."

"This is important! Tell him Martin!" Sofia snapped. I could tell that he wasn't expecting being dragged into this argument, he just wanted to see some drama but it immediately backfired, and I wasn't going to help him. An angry Italian woman was scary.

"What I think, about kissing someone you care, it's... ahh... you have to be sure about your feelings. Of course, our generation often rushes everything, but when it comes to a first kiss, calm down. Take your time. You don't need to be a Cassanova and get all the girls. Be a gentleman, talk... see how he accepts what's around him. And of course, only with you're sure this is something you want."

"Dude!" I couldn't believe the bullshit pouring from his mouth. Who the fuck is he to lecture me when we already said what needed to be said earlier. "Shut the fuck up, it's just a kiss!"

"That wasn't kissing! You were practically eating his face off! Tu sei il diavolo!" Sofia snapped at me.

"Sta' zitto! Tappati la bocca!" Rocco snapped back at her throwing his arms up in frustration. Martin and I watched as the two started to argue in Italian in a very animated way.

"Did I say something wrong? What are they saying?" Martin asked.

"Something about purity. I can't understand all their dialect," I told him.

"Isn't all Italian the same?"

"No, it's like how you couldn't understand Ashton when he spoke like a hillbilly," I told him. "She'll teach you, I have a feeling you'll have no choice now. Looks like she takes this stuff seriously."

Suddenly, a shaking Rocco walked up to me and pulled me down to his height to kiss me. I held out my hand, and he placed his small, cold, pale one in mine, making it instantly warming and relaxing to the touch. My thumb gently stroked the back of his knuckles which seemed to calm him down.

"Mind your business Martin!" Rocco snapped. Martin immediately put his hands up signaling that he understood. 

"Whatever, just don't hurt my brother," Martin turned his attention back to Sofia. 

"Don't hurt my sister then," Rocco hissed back at him. "Now, you walk me home like you said."

"Ok, your sister-"

"She will be fine with Martin. When she has her eyes set on something, she goes for it," Rocco told me. "Walk me home, then remember to pick me up from school."

"Ok, then what?" I agreed.

"Why are you being so agreeable to what I have to say?"

"My therapist said I should try dating again and take a risk. I might not be good at the relationship thing, but what you're asking for isn't unreasonable," I told him. "And you're the one who told me to go with the flow. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

It was late, the streets were quiet. I guess I'd have to ignore the fact that I woke up with some guy I just met, got a boyfriend and made breakfast for him at 4 in the afternoon. Yet, there we were, a few blocks away from my house. And finally, i was walking him home, while holding his hand.

Not that i'd ever admit it, but it made me quite giddy. I could see why all my exes wanted to do this with me. It felt like I was caring for him, as much as he acted like he didn't like it. 

Sometimes, he'd look at me as if he could see right through me and at other times, he'd give me with little attentions which would just make me all mushy. I doubted i'd ever be ready to admit it, but Rocco could help me heal. I suddenly no longer felt compelled to lock myself in my room anymore just to keep on despairing. Instead i wanted to spend more time with someone.

It would always be painful to think about Danny, but i knew that with Rocco here, I could smile at the hood memories I did have with him while making new ones with him. I heaved a happy sigh and turned my head to grin at him. 

"Did you really enjoy the sex?" I asked him.

Rocco avoided my eyes making my heart drop into my stomach. I couldn't fucking believe my eyes! "It was really good....you just have zero control sometimes."

"Oh," had I lost it during my dry spell? Or was I always lied to from the start?

"Well, here we are," Rocco said. He turned to me and took his bag pack from me. She never carries a backpack, she just had a few books and a folder, but I had insisted on carrying it for him, "Thank you for your protection, carrying my books, and the immense pleasure of your company, Vinny." He said sarcastically.

Rocco was already up two steps of his apartment building, making us about the same height, although I was still a bit taller. He looked up me slyly and kissed me on the cheek; close to my lips, I noted. And as he pulled away, still smiling that slick smile, i knew he had just done that to tease me.

"Ah, I'll see you tomorrow!" I called after him. All he did was flip me off in response.