Page 69 of He is Poison

“Stand still then. Youneed to know what you’re running from.” Domenico frowned at the gun and raisedit for a shot.

“No!” Seth squealed, andhis eyes went wide, but it was too late. A spray of red splatter to his cheekcame even before his mind registered the crippling pain in his shoulder.

The strength of the shotmade him stagger back. “Motherfucker!”

Chapter 12

The next two weekspassed in relative peace, though Seth would risk saying that it was almost “nice”.Dom didn’t push for anal so that took off some of the pressure as Seth’s poor,sore ass healed. They did get to fool around though, since, as they say, a blowjob a day keeps the doctor away. They watched Vera at all sorts of differenttimes, at her home, at university, when she went to a nightclub. At othertimes, they worked on Seth’s combat skills and did a lot of target practice.Oh, and Seth didn’t get to nail Dom’s ass. What he did get though, was a wholeset of painful bruises from the paintballs. It wasn’t a satisfactory outcome.

And since watching Vera,training, and sinning in a bed too small for two grown men, didn’t fill up alltheir time, they also went out a few times. Once, to a nearby cinema. Sethcomplained about theTwilightmovie marathon, but when he realized Dom hadno idea whatTwilightwas, he couldn’t help but drag him out there.Domenico was unimpressed in general and just listening to his comments was morefun than Seth could bargain for. In the last movie though, Dom complained soloudly about the childbirth scene that they were asked to leave the cinema. Ohwell, at least Dom got a taste of pop culture.

In return, Seth obligedto go see an opera by Puccini. Yet another part of “their heritage” Dom keptraving about. But before they could go, Domenico forced Seth to shop for a suitat Armani’s. It felt stifling to wear, but seeing Dom so happy to pay over athousand Euros for it was priceless. He had that ‘look-at-me I’ve-got-money’attitude about him. A propernouveau riche.In combination with hispig-like table manners at home, it was a sight to behold. But at the opera, ina restaurant, Dom was walking, talking class. Seth actually wondered if Domjust considered it another acting assignment, but he didn’t seem to fake-likeopera. He talked lively about it in between the acts and even chose one thatSeth didn’t hate. The storyline was quite bloody and left Seth thoughtful thatday.

Even though they watchedVera at different times, there was an unofficial routine when it came to food.Seth would usually make a simple breakfast, and they’d eat and get ready forwhatever Dom had planned for the day. For lunch or dinner, they always went toa different Italian restaurant, since there were many to choose from in Berlin.Some were average, some good, but in one of them Seth had the best sardines hehad ever tasted. He also liked having meals, as it was always relaxing to talkabout food and learn some tiny details about Dom. It was like having quickpeeks behind a thick dark curtain.

Even the few fights theyhad were nothing major. Just silly things like Seth touching Dom’s guns withoutpermission, or Dom insisting to pay for both of them each time, as if Seth werehis lady friend. Seth putting spicy curry powder into Dom’s omelet, and thenDom pointing a gun at him for it. Seth not cleaning their weapons whileclaiming that he did, or Dom throwing out all their dishes instead of washingthem when it was his turn.

Minor things, forgottenas soon as both of them were overtaken by passion and tumbled into bed. Or thefloor. Or—on one occasion—the stairs. Being with Dom was like being in heat.Seth couldn’t help himself, arousal always on the tip of his tongue, waiting tobe coaxed out. At one point Dom fucked Seth’s thighs, and it was sooverwhelming to be under him that Seth almost asked him to slide in his dick.But before he could make up his mind, afraid it would hurt and embarrassed ofwhat Dom would think of him, Dom came and the moment was gone.

Exploring Berlin withoutDomenico wasn’t as nice as when Seth had him by his side. There he was, sittingon a neat bench under a tree, protected from the intense September sun by theglass buildings above him, and he kept thinking about the bastard. With VeraSalieri chatting to her two girlfriends over steaming bowls of pasta in amodern restaurant nearby, he treated himself to an iced coffee as he watchedtourists and locals walk past him in an endless stream that was an everydayoccurrence in Potsdamer Platz.

Just looking at the bigbrand clothes on the rat made Seth’s gut twist, but during the last two weeks,he’d managed to control the urge to strangle her to death. It wouldn’t bepractical if they were to watch her, though to tell the truth, there wasn’tmuch to watch. Salieri didn’t do anything out of the ordinary, except for notgoing to work despite having expensive taste. It made him sick to think that hehad been the job to sponsor her extravagant lifestyle.

It took a moment for himto realize that the buzz accompanying his fantasies of smashing Vera Salieri’s post-opnose with a saucepan didn’t originate in his mind. The source of the noiseentered his vision like a black viper and captured all of his attention in asplit second. The rider wore a body suit so black it seemed to suck in thelight as he dismounted his sleek motorcycle in a move so graceful it remindedSeth of Domenico. But then again, the man looked nothing like the sharp edgesof Dom’s body. For a short moment, Seth wasn’t even sure if he was looking at aman or a woman, but the male gender became clear when the rider took off hishelmet.

Seth leaned back on thebench and enjoyed the view. Tight ass in leather and wider shoulders created aperfect V-shaped back. A part of him, the smooth pale skin and perfect lips,reminded Seth of Peter, but then again, Peter was all bones and campiness whilethis guy looked as though there was muscle in that smaller frame. Before Sethcould inhale again, the biker was off to a newsagent, and when Seth’s gazefollowed the line of his body and descended all the way to the narrow hips, thepull to follow was like a leash on Seth’s neck.

Would the guy speakEnglish? He seemed pretty young so it was probable. Whatever would happen, atleast Seth was happy for some variety in this, so far, boring day. He slid tothe other side of the bench to ogle both the rider and the bike. The machinereminded Seth of his own Suzuki, which was rotting away in Peter’s garage inNew York City. Seth tried to lean forward to see more of the man in leather,whose face was hidden by a stand with postcards of Berlin and a figurine of astanding bear.

He had short spiky hair,the perfect frame for such a well-chiseled face. And even though the guyprobably barely scraped eighteen, there was something about him that drew Sethlike a moth to the flame. He had one of those faces that struck you so hard youcouldn’t make yourself look away. Now that Seth could see the man from theside, he could take in the beautiful legs, strong and graceful like a dancer’s.

Seth downed the rest ofhis coffee and threw the cup into the trash. He looked around once more, tomake sure Dom wasn’t coming, and got up from the bench. The bike would be agreat conversation starter if the guy spoke English. The Kevlar plates on thedriver's back made him look like some kind of futuristic outlaw, who wouldtravel through wastelands and work as a gun for hire. The whole outfit seemedlike something you could kill zombies in.

Heat stirred in Seth’sthroat when the stranger walked out into the sun and made his way to the blackmachine with sharp white highlights that only added to the impression of itscapability to reach lightning-speed.

Seth gave the guy asmile and searched his mind for any German words he knew. “Schön,” wasall he could come up with as the equivalent of ‘nice’. He’d add ‘bike’ but hadno idea how so he just pointed to the motorcycle. He wouldn’t be able to saythe word even if he suddenly remembered it because when the stranger lookedstraight at him, Seth was sucked into the bottomless pit of his black eyes.They seemed almost matte, as if light strayed from them out of fear of beingsucked in. But before Seth could as much as feel uneasy, that beautiful,sharply-cut mouth spread into a wide, toothy smile.

“Do you speak English?”asked the biker in an accent that could not be German.

Seth exhaled loudly andgrinned back, already feeling more at ease with a fellow alien in the Germancapital. “God, yes!” He stroked the seat of the bike in a way he wanted tostroke the guy’s ass. He couldn’t deny himself a bit of moto-molestation if hecouldn’t touch what he really wanted to. His breath caught when the driverfollowed the move of his hand only to raise two straight eyebrows, as if in achallenge.

“It’s mine.”

“I know.” Seth smirkedand ran his fingertips along the leather. “Where are you from?”

The dark eyes narrowed,but it didn’t affect the wide smile. “Rome. How about you?” asked the driver,fluently switching to Italian. He moved his hand and rested it on the seat, soclose to Seth’s fingers it made them tingle. Oh God, Seth hoped the guy waslegal. What was the age of consent in Germany anyway? He bet Dom knew, even ifhe didn’t care.

“Sicily. A small town,you wouldn’t know it. What are the odds, right?” Seth’s smile widened, and hetried to hypnotize the guy with his own gaze, but the flat stare betrayednothing. At least until it shifted lower, and Seth realized the guy waswatching his mouth, which only prompted him to talk.

“I’m Seth by the way.”He held out his hand over the bike. “I’m here in Berlin on my own, and I’mbored out of my mind. You know any good places to eat or something? I don’tspeak German so it’s hard for me to find entertainment. What’s up with thedubbing on TV, right?”

“Are you gay?” asked thedriver, but it wasn’t malicious, just a straight-to-the-point question of a manin need of information.

Seth hesitated andlicked his upper lip. “Uh, yeah,” he said in the end. “Sorry if I made youuncomfortable.”

“I’m free for theevening,” said the man, slowly leaning forward, and in the same moment, softleather trailed up Seth’s hand on the motorcycle seat.

Goosebumps bristled allthe hairs on Seth’s forearms, and he mirrored the guy’s body language with hisheart picking up its pace by the second. “I’m in a hostel, I’ve got an annoyingroommate. You have a place?” He inhaled the scent of leather, fantasizing onhow he could put his hands on those sharp cheekbones, slide them to the spikyhair. Maybe take a shower together?