Mortified

Frantic, I paid the driver before getting out of the cab, startled when I meet Annalouie in front of our gate. His shirt is wet with sweat from chest to armpits. His usual man bun is let loose, morning air blowing it into a rioting nest on his head. His face is oily and covered with sheen just as his arms glisten in sweat.

I swallow hard, cringing at my obvious perusal before turning away and hurriedly enter the house. I get to my room, lock the door after me before stripping out of my clothes and enter my bath. Desperate, I soap and scrub myself until I feel my skin sore. F*ck! F*ck! F*ck! I punch the tiled wall and groan.

Sh*t! The hell happened last night? It was f*cking traumatic. I mean nothing else happened but why do I feel dirty? I soap myself again before rinsing, patting myself dry and put on a pair of pajamas. It's already morning but I'm going to sleep it off, hoping when I wake up, everything returns to normal.

[Axel: twenty years old; night out with Jethro]

After a long minute of good laugh, I finally sober up. My gut's aching from too much laughing I don't even f*cking remember what we're talking about. I swirl the ice in my tumbler. Damn, I'm getting tipsy. No, sh*t! I'm more than tipsy. I still have a long way to go to get friends with alcohol.

“Hey, so..." Jethro scoots closer to my side, pouring my glass to the brim. "Have you got yourself a girlfriend, man?"

"Hmm?" I arch a brow at him, chuckling when the Jack Daniels spills to my shirt and lap. "Sh*t, man! Why you filling it in full? This isn't beer!"

"Drink, buddy!" Jethro pushes the bottoms of my glass up, raising it to my lips. "We have, what, three years, four years? We didn't get to talk much ever since high school."

"Yeah!" Smirking, I gulp from my glass and put it down the table before snatching up wads if tissue from the side.

Good thing I'm wearing dark-colored clothes; the spill won't be too obvious. I've never been to this joint since I'm not twenty-one yet. Luckily, Jethro knows the owner so we're good. I turn my head, look at him through my alcohol-induced vision. Jethro meets my gaze while taking a swig straight from the bottle.

"What?" I prompt, elbowing his side.

He doesn't answer but snatches tissue from the table as well before turning to me. "Lemme help you. I did this anyway."

Flicking the used tissue, I let Jethro continue salvaging my stained shirt. Sh*t has slowed down my system, making me dizzy and sleepy. Head thrown back to the couch, I groan while Jethro's hands continue wiping down to my lap. I feel him rustling my clothes, my belt buckle clinking but I can't somehow react fast.

"Hey, what you doin there?" I ask, eyes still shut close.

“I got this. Just sit tight and enjoy this." He answers before a sound of a zipper being pulled down resonates over the upbeat song in the air.

I didn't really see it coming nor even the idea of it crossing my mind. That my best friend will do this to me. No, sh*t! Even if it's not me but the thought that he's doing it is f*cking shocking enough. My eyes snap open when I feel my c*ck being sucked. Sitting up, I grab Jethro's hair.

"The hell, man!"

"Stop struggling, Axel, or I'll use teeth."

"Sh*t!" I release his hair and close my eyes again. "F*ck!"

I bite my lip at the sensation of his warm, sleek mouth enclosing around my c*ck head. His tongue swirling my slit and his rough hand massaging my balls. I start panting. Whether of alcohol or biology, my body reacts nevertheless, although I'm also feeling goosebumps running up my spine.

My c*ck's goddamn hesitating. I'm getting hard alright but not hard enough. I keep returning to half-mast. It's f*cking frustrating. Jethro seems to feel it, too. I open my eyes and watch what he's doing but my d*ck only goes totally flaccid. Jesus! This is sick! I can't do this.

Disgusted, I push Jethro away. But just as he promised, he scraped teeth to my d*ck, freezing me on the spot. F*ck, that was dangerous! I groan and close my eyes again, imagining it's Annalouie that's sucking me right now instead. His constant pouting lips wrapped around my c*ck.

"Hmm..." Jethro moans when he feels me growing hard and thick in his mouth.

"F*ck!" I growl, thinking I could've imagined a woman but why did Annalouie enter my mind first?

Jethro starts enjoying my raging c*ck in his mouth, sucking it with eagerness. His mouth is loud and wet, slobbering down my length and soaking my balls. I wonder what would it feel if Annalouie gives me fell*tio in reality? My balls tighten up, chest rapidly rising and falls at the erotic thought.

"Sh*t!" I howl, grabbing Jethro's hair and pump into his mouth rough and fast before pulling away, coming all over his face and chest.

Emotions clouded by guilt, disgust and pleasure, I slide down the couch and sleep. I can't talk right now. I don't want to admit this is reality. Maybe this is an alcohol-induced dream. Although Jethro's head resting on my pelvis doesn't feel like a dream at all while his breathing warming my deflated d*ck.

I wake up a few hours later, freezing and with c*ck hanging out. Disoriented but head already cleared of alcohol, I eject from the couch and push Jethro away who's sleeping on my chest. The rough push stirs him awake instantly. Standing up, I shove my c*ck back in and zip my pants up.

"Axel, can we talk..."

“No." I cut him off when I'm at the door. “It was just the alcohol. Let's forget this ever happened.”

"What if I don't?"

"Then it's not my goddamn problem! I don't f*cking have a thing for you, man! The hell!" I twist the doorknob and leave the room, slamming it shut behind me.

Jesus! Jethro? I didn't know he's into d*cks. F*ck! What right do I have to judge him. Even I got f*cked by a goddamn c*ck and by my own stepbrother to that matter. Sh*t! Hailing a cab, I climb in and give the Webber's address. I brood the entire drive and do a beeline to my bathroom once I arrive.

Cold shower bombards my back with piercing vengeance. F*ck! Is this some kinda disease? After I got r*ped by the freak, I've become a target to homos. No, wait! The freak and Jethro have been friends while I'm gone. Could it be the freak infected Jethro of his homo disease? Or could it be the other way around?

Shutting the shower off, I wipe my body dry and collapse on my bed. I'm going to sleep this through. Yeah, right. I've been sleeping off all my troubles, escaping it like a f*cking coward. I groan and force myself to forget. My head is filled with horrible thoughts, resulting to my dreams becoming nightmares.

I wake up some time in the afternoon by the loud growl of my stomach. Leaving my bedroom, I get down the kitchen and hunt for food. The mansion's goddamn silent once again. Who wants to live in this f*cking eerie house? I want to return to my condo already. To hell with my mother's wishes. She's not here often herself anyway.

"Where's everybody?" I ask one of the servants.

“I don't know where but your parents went out after lunch earlier. While your brother went to his studio."

"Thanks." I wave my hand and resume eating.

Pausing, my fork hangs in the air as the thought of visiting the studio enters my mind. I've never really gone even once. I was too upset to take a peep of it after dad gave it to him. When Annalouie first held his exhibit, I also refused going out of rebellion, showing him that I don't give a damn to whatever the hell he's doing with his life.

Decision final, I finish my food and return to my room for a change of clothes. I ask a chauffeur to drive me to Annalouie's studio since I don't have any idea where it was if I go by a cab. It only takes half an hour of drive and we're already parking outside.

I didn't go out of the car just yet. I can't because I can see Annalouie inside. The studio is a three-story building with the ground floor as his gallery. I could roughly guess the second is his studio or work station while the top-most floor is where his penthouse sits.

Annalouie's currently entertaining a middle aged woman, showing her around his paintings. I think I knew of her I just can't remember her name. She's a known personality in fashion industry. I don't want to interrupt Annalouie from his work so I turn to the driver to tell him to return me home.

However, catching Jethro's car parking outside the studio stops me from my plan of leaving. I lean closer to the window, wanting to watch clearly how they interact to each other. Once Jethro enters, he approaches Annalouie and the woman, obviously being introduced.

The woman soon leaves the building with a contented smile. I guess that's a closed deal then. I return my gaze inside the gallery and almost jump out of my seat. Jethro was hugging Annalouie. No, wait. Is it Annalouie that's hugging Jethro? I can't tell because they're practically grabbing for each other.

What makes it shocking is when Annalouie cups Jethro's face and kisses him on the lips. Unable to control my fury, I jump out of the car and rush towards the studio, pushing the glass door with unnecessary force. Their lips are still fused when I grab Annalouie by the back of his collar before punching Jethro on the face.

"You, a*shole!" I scream at him while he's slumped on the floor.

"Axel!" Jethro exclaims, face wet with tears and lip bleeding.

"What the f*ck are you doing you, son of the b*tch!" I yell, my muscles quivering with anger, of what, I don't know.

“No, that was..."

"Shut up!" I cut him off. "Shut the f*ck up! You, goddamn homo!"

"Hey now." Annalouie finally speaks behind me, placing a hand to my shoulder. "He's your best friend, you know. You shouldn't be prejudiced... "Annalouie stops speaking when I look him over my shoulder.

"What?" I snap, still angry as f*ck when he just stares at me.

He frowns at my face. I don't know how to describe his expression but I've never seen Annalouie looking shocked like this and a little afraid as well. His ever stoic face finally breaks. As if realizing what has him speechless, I slap a hand to my cheek and feel it wet. Sh*t! Why the hell am I crying? F*ck!

Mortified, I pivot towards the exit and leave the building just as fast as I came. I get into the car and told the driver to return me to the mansion. Tomorrow, I'm going back to my condo. I don't know what sh*t Annalouie did to me. I don't know myself anymore. I'm losing my f*cking mind.

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