The Russos 5

by D. J. Manly

  It certainly seemed like it.

  He went back inside and ordered another beer. He enjoyed the music, and his cousin began to look more and more sexually alluring as the evening wore on. By midnight, he had taken off the T-shirt and moved down closer to the crowd. Some of the spectators even reached over and touched him, or wiped some of the sweat off his chest.

  Tony got up to dance with several guys. The bouncer called Sam was watching more closely now, and Tony was feeling great. He was probably the only virgin in the whole bar, and yet he was alive with sexual tension.

  He was surrounded by good-looking men in various stages of dress, and the best looking man in the place was the one who would take him home tonight.

  When the set ended, he was talking to several guys at the bar. The beer was going down easy now, and he found that he could flirt with these guys without any hesitation.

  When he felt Angelo step up behind him and place an arm around his shoulders, he looked up at him and then back at the three guys at the bar. "How would you like to take this one home tonight?" he slurred, pressing himself back against his cousin's hard chest.

  "We should all be so lucky," one of the men said, reaching over and taking some of Angelo's hair between his fingers.

  Angelo gave the man a stony stare. He let go and backed away.

  "Well, coming?" Angelo said. "We're out of here."

  Angelo took Tony's arm and pulled him across the room.

  "Tonight, he's all mine," Tony shouted to the three men at the bar over Angelo's shoulder. "He'll be in my bed all night long."

  "Oh, come on, for Christ's sake." Angelo clicked his tongue in irritation, dragging him outside. "Was that really necessary?"

  "No," he giggled, "but it was fun. Did you see them eating their hearts out?"

  "Ya, ya. You're ripped," Angelo sighed. "I don't even know if you're going to be able to ride on the back of my bike."

  "I'd rather ride you," Tony moaned, moving him up against the wall in the alley. He pinned him there for a minute, running his hand over his thigh.

  Angelo looked down at him. "Tony, back off. I'm telling you. I'm not going to be your teacher. I don't want any part of your little games."

  Tony reached up and ran his hands over his hair. "I want you. You're goddamned beautiful, and you know just what to do in bed, don't you?"

  Angelo pushed him away. "How in the hell would you know? Let's go home, Tony. Get on the back of the bike and hold on. I'll drive slowly."

  Tony wrapped his arms around his cousin. He laid his head on his back as Angelo started the engine.

  Within seconds, his hands moved down to his thighs and then deeper, to his inner thighs.

  Angelo swore at him and took a hand off the handlebars. He tore one hand away from his crotch and moved it upward. "Stop it!" He barked.

  A few seconds later, Tony was fumbling with the zipper on his pants.

  Angelo yelled at him to stop it again. They were in the middle of traffic. "Christ, do you want to have an accident?"

  "No one can see," Tony told him. He had managed to slide his hand inside Angelo's jeans and was caressing him. There was no way that Angelo could take his hands away from the handlebars long enough to take Tony's hand out of his jeans, and there was nowhere to pull off right now. He was in the middle lane of the expressway.

  Angelo closed his eyes for a second as Tony fondled him. He opened them just in time to realize that he was about to crash into a vehicle in front of him. He swore.

  His cock was throbbing. He couldn't believe this was happening. It was true that he had had some pretty wild sexual experiences, especially when he was Europe, but this was suicidal. He moaned a little as Tony kept stroking him.

  Tony was whispering in his ear. "God, you're really hung. It's so big. God, I want you. I want you right now, here, in all this traffic."

  Angelo squirmed a little on the seat. His pulse was racing, and he struggled to keep his mind on the road.

  His eyes kept wanting to close. He licked his lips. His mouth felt dry. The tension was building, blood filling his organ. He was totally erect. He swore again.

  Tony laughed from behind him.

  Angelo turned off the freeway and took the road that would lead them home. As soon as they hit a dark neighbourhood street, Angelo stopped his bike.

  He turned around to scream at him but as soon as he opened his mouth, Tony pulled him forward and pressed his lips on his. He was kissing him as if he was drowning, and only his kisses could save him. Finally his hand slipped out of Angelo's jeans and he pulled his body around to his.

  Angelo finally managed to pull away. "What in hell is wrong with you? You almost got us killed back there! You're plastered. I should kick the shit out of you!"

  Tony smiled at him. "Take me home. Take me to bed. I'm tired of being a virgin. I want to be like everyone else. If you don't do it, I swear I'll go out tonight and find the first presentable-looking stranger. God, you're hung," he moaned, his hand sliding down Angelo's thigh. "You're gorgeous, too."

  Angelo rolled his eyes. "You're so full of shit. You're drunk out of your mind. Just keep your hands to yourself until we get home, okay?"

  "Does that mean you'll do it?" Tony asked him, running his hands over his shoulders. "Does that mean I can put my hands where I want to when we get home?"

  "I'll consider it," he muttered. "Let's go home." He started up the engine and headed up the street. He was so worked up now, anything or anyone would have done. He needed time to cool off and think straight.

  He'd take the long way home, and then talk Tony out of it later. Maybe he'd pass out.

  Let's hope so.

  Tony was walking on his own when they went into the house. His mother's car was gone. Where in hell was she? Angelo was hoping she'd be home to put Tony to bed.

  As soon as they got in the door, Tony was all over him, but Angelo knew he could handle him. He was bigger than he was. He took him around the waist and forced him down the hallway to his room.

  "I want to go to your room," Tony mumbled, trying to turn around to pull him into his embrace.

  Angelo forced him down on the bed and pinned his arms there for a minute. "Now, you listen. You're drunk. Even if I was to consider your offer, I'd want you to be sober. Now, go to sleep."

  "You don't like me? I don't turn you on? I'm not your type?" Tony whined drunkenly.

  "Oh, you're my type, all right." Angelo smiled at him. "You'd be anyone's type. You're young, innocent, sweet and you're unbelievably willing, but I don't take advantage of young virginal boys when they're drunk."

  "I'm not jailbait. I'm legal."

  "I know that, Tony, but I said no."

  "But I won't have the guts when I'm sober, and my whole body is on fire for you right now." His eyes were pleading.

  "My body is on fire, too," he whispered softly. He closed his eyes. "Another time."

  He did try to break away. He let go of Tony's arms, only to be pulled down into them.

  "I'm not that drunk, Angelo. I really want you. Help me. I'm scared of doing this with a stranger, and I'm afraid I'll become a dried-up old virginal man sitting in my rocking chair, dreaming about sex."

  Angelo laughed outright. "I don't think there is much chance of that," he said, settling down into his arms and lying with him. He let Tony reach over and kiss his mouth gently. He closed his eyes.

  Tony let his hands wander over the length of his body. "Can I take off your clothes?" he breathed.

  "If you ask me real nice."

  Tony sat up and pulled off his own clothes. Then he reached over with trembling fingers and began to remove Angelo's.

  It was going to happen, finally, and with a beautiful man, a man more beautiful than his fantasy could have imagined. On top of that, that man was the son of the Drake Russo. It seemed unbelievable, as if he had been given a gift suddenly from heaven.

  * * * * * *

  Angelo felt Tony move his hands over his naked body, exploring it comp
letely. He slowly circled both his nipples with his fingers, then bent his head forward to lap at them with his tongue. "Um, they get so hard," he said softly.

  Angelo's flesh was coming alive, his cock lifting up onto his belly, his nuts tightening like a vise. He tried to be patient, exercise restraint, let Tony do what he wanted to do.

  He was kissing him suddenly, moving his lips down his belly to his cock. "I want to suck it, take it into my mouth," Tony said softly.

  "Then do it," Angelo hissed softly. "Suck it."

  When Tony's lips folded around his cock, Angelo felt the scrape of teeth. "Ouch," he said, "pull your lips over your teeth."

  "Sorry," he mumbled.

  "Tighten your lips around it, grab the base, and move your tongue around...ahhh...yes..." he grunted, "like that. Go on, that's it."

  As Tony sucked, Angelo reached down and took his erection into his hand. Tony moaned as soon as he touched him. Angelo placed a hand on Tony's head and urged him off his cock. "I'm going to cum. Stop for now."

  Angelo moved over on top of him and began to kiss him softly on the mouth, then the throat, then to his nipples, reaching a hand down between his legs to massage his balls, then his cock. Tony was easily excited, and had come already.

  "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry."

  Angelo laughed softly. "It's okay. It comes with practise." He moved his mouth down to Tony's sex now and began to run his tongue along it, paying careful attention to the head.

  "Angelo, Jesus," Tony cried out.

  Angelo chuckled, reaching over to his nightstand and pulling out some lubricant. "Roll over."

  "What...are you...ah...going to do?" Tony stammered.

  "Don't worry. I'm not going to fuck you. I'm just going to..."

  Tony grabbed his hand. "I want you to...to fuck me. Please."

  "No," Angelo said. "Turn over."

  Tony turned onto his stomach.

  Gently Angelo inserted a lubed finger up into his anus. He massaged slowly, causing Tony to cry out, his entire body beginning to shake. Then Angelo inserted two, pushing until the inner roll of muscles gave way and released. He reached the prostate, and pressed.

  Tony brought his hips upwards and moaned.

  "You're going to take to this like a duck to water," Angelo teased.

  Three fingers, and then he began to move them in and out as if they were a cock.

  Tony cried out, his breathing coming in gasps. "Fuck me. Put your cock there now. Angelo, please." Tony reached around and grabbed his cock, which was hard as rock. "Come on, baby, please. I'm ready." Tony turned around as soon as Angelo withdrew his fingers from inside of him.

  He reached up and pulled Angelo down to him. He began kissing him passionately, running his hands over him, then he lifted his legs. "Put them up over your shoulders. I want to see your eyes when you put it in," Tony told him.

  Angelo ran his hands down his legs, then lifted them. "Are you sure?"

  "Umm, yes. Go."

  Angelo entered him slowly. He knew it was going to hurt like hell.

  Tony let out a cry, then a moan as Angelo went deeper. He cried out, "Yes, yes, go, fuck me. God, you feel good. Harder."

  Angelo lost control then.

  When Tony came, which was shortly after him, he shouted. He held onto him, and at one point, Angelo thought he actually bit him. He was lost inside his mouth and his hands and his touch.

  When they finally broke apart, Angelo was trembling inside. To be his first was a great responsibility. He had never taken someone's innocence in that way. Oral sex was one thing, but intercourse was quite another.

  "It's what I've feared most and wanted most," Tony told him.

  Angelo kissed him on the forehead.

  "It was beautiful. Thank you." Tony's arms slipped around his waist. He was touching him again.

  Angelo closed his eyes.

  "Please," Tony said. He turned him around and pulled him on top of him. He was kissing him again, running his hands down over his back.

  All Angelo's resolve was melting away.

  "Please, take me again," Tony moaned against his mouth. "It's only you I want."

  * * * * * *

  "What's wrong, Drake?" Francine asked him the next morning.

  He had made love to her last night as if he were distracted by something. Maybe it was over already.

  He was up, dressed and standing out on the balcony of her condo.

  She wrapped her housecoat around her and came to stand beside him, then put her arms around him.

  He didn't answer. Instead he turned around and kissed her on the forehead. He hated it when Johnny acted like that. Why did Mama have to say anything, anyway? He felt weary. Now that Johnny was getting better, he was beginning to feel like he had before the shooting.

  "Ever consider ending it all?" he said, turning to look out over the ocean now.

  "What?" she asked, shocked. "Do you feel like that?"

  He nodded. "Often."

  "God, why?"

  "Because I have this pain that will never go away until I die. There's nothing I can do about it."

  "Would you actually do it?" she breathed.

  "Only if my pain grew more unbearable than the thought of what my death would do to him. Do you understand?"

  "I don't think so. You mean you couldn't kill yourself because it would hurt...him...too much? Who is 'him'?"

  "The man I love."

  "Oh." She felt as if someone had let the air out of her.

  She knew he had bisexual tendencies, had slept with both women and men, but he had never told her that he was in love with a man before. "If you love him so much," she said bitterly, "why aren't you with him? Does he not feel the same?"

  He turned around and shook his head. "It's complicated...very complicated."

  "Are you breaking up with me?" Francine moaned.

  "I told you...warned you not to get involved, didn't I?" Drake sighed. "I bring pain to everyone I touch. I'm cursed."

  "What in hell are you talking about?" Francine's face was wet with tears. "I didn't ask for marriage. We've made love twice. Did I do something wrong?"

  Drake shook his dark head. "No. I just think that I should get out before you become too involved, and..."

  "How generous of you!" she spat, walking back inside.

  Drake closed his eyes. How could he make her understand that he cared, but he could never love her?

  She felt too much. He knew that last night as soon as he held her in his arms. It wasn't just sex for her. She had that look in her eyes. He felt her tremble as soon as he touched her. He knew he was doing her a favour by getting out now.

  He walked inside. He glanced at her, sitting stone-faced on the sofa. "Goodbye, Francine." He went to the door.

  Suddenly, she was there, on her knees, begging, pleading for him not to go.

  He felt sick to his stomach, weak in the knees. Please, don't do this to me. Tears were in his eyes. He couldn't bear to see the pain he caused. He picked her up and held her. "Francine," he whispered, "I'm so sorry, forgive me...forgive me." He broke away from her, fumbled to undo the lock and literally ran down the stairs. He drove away, pulled the car over and then sobbed quietly for a few minutes. "Johnny, Johnny...if only I could end this misery. If only I could drive this car off a cliff and finish it right now, but I know if I ended my life, I'd also end yours."

  He wiped his eyes and headed for the studio. They had to finish recording that CD today.

  * * * * * *

  When he arrived, his son was already there, sitting alone in the studio at eight o'clock in the morning.

  "What are you doing here at this time?" Drake asked as he walked in.

  "Couldn't sleep."

  "Ah. I thought Tony was coming along today?"

  "He's still sleeping. I left a message for uncle Pepi to pick him up later." He avoided his father's eyes.

  "Is everything all right?" Drake asked.

  "Why wouldn't it be? I'm tired, that's all."


  "How's it going with that band you're playing with?"

  "Great. I hear Uncle Johnny is walking," Angelo said.

  "Yeah. I can't wait for him to get back to work," Drake said. "I need caffeine. Want some coffee?"

  "Okay, thanks." Angelo nodded, looking over some sheet music.

  Drake walked down the hallway toward Kathy Young's desk. She was the main receptionist. She came on to him heavy duty at a Christmas party a few years back. She was married now to one of the studio musicians.

  "Hello, Drake," she said with a smile. "You're here early today. How's Johnny?"

  "Better," Drake said, pouring two cups of coffee. "Is Frank around?"

  "Not until this afternoon."

  "Tell him I need to speak to him before he takes off."

  "Sure, hon." She smiled.

  Drake smiled back, then ran into Mac, walking down the hallway toward him.

  "Hey, buddy," Drake said. "Want some coffee?"

  "I need to talk to you. I tried yesterday, but you were being such an asshole about the music..." he trailed off.

  Drake could see he had something serious on his mind.

  "Okay. Sorry about yesterday. You know how I get."

  "I know and we love you for it---usually---but okay, here it is. I'm going to come right out and say it. I want to marry Janet and I think she might agree, but she really needs you to approve." Mac took a breath.

  Drake almost dropped the coffee. "Let me give Angelo his coffee, okay and...eh...well...talk." Drake walked back into the studio to see that Pepi and Tony had arrived. Tony was sitting up in the sound booth.

  He smiled and waved down at him.

  Drake handed his son his coffee, waving back. "I'm just going to talk to Mac a few minutes and then we'll get going."

  "No hurry," Pepi sang. "I can live without your father's bitching for another few minutes, can't you, Angelo?"