Page 32

Mathéo

Fuck, this story is hot. Adrien definitely kept his promise with this one. I’m driving from Dijon to Micki’s, listening to an audiobook. The narrators are insanely good, and the story is so detailed that I’m alternately stiff and blushing. If I don’t come in my boxers in the next three hours, I’ll explode the second Micki touches me.

Adrien has been sending me book recommendations from Philipp and while I rarely read, the audiobooks are fun and I think I’ve already learned a thing or two. When I hear something I might like, I just try it out as Micki is so damn open to everything. It’s the hottest thing ever when he’s writhing and moaning under my fingers.

I want to sleep with him. I’ve done a bit of research, I know what I have to do. At least in theory. I know we can’t just go for it, that I have to loosen him up, but I’m afraid of doing it wrong, and of hurting him. He has more experience, and part of me worries that I won’t measure up to his past lovers.

That’s why I haven’t taken it any further than a little ass play yet, but damn it, doing that was hot. Micki in the shower or on all fours in front of me... I loved it and I think I’m ready to take this further.

Is it weird that we have been together for over four months now, but still haven’t had penetrative sex? For someone like me, who used to fuck women every night, that’s a big change, but I don’t miss the nameless hook-ups. I enjoy being with Micki, I look forward to Friday all week and when I get out of the car and take him in my arms, I’m home.

Going back to Dijon gets harder each week and I don’t think I can do it for much longer. I have a plan, but Micki doesn’t know about it yet. Everything has to be bulletproof first.

A few miles before Freiburg, my phone rings and Micki’s number appears on the display. I feel my brows furrow; he’s at practice now and definitely shouldn’t be on his phone. “Mon chou! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. But I forgot to tell you that Ilkay is celebrating his birthday tonight. That’s the one we met in the café when you...” His voice trails off, but I know exactly who he’s talking about and what situation he’s referring to. “Can you come to the studio and pick me up there? Where are you right now?”

“I’m somewhere around Freiburg, if traffic stays this light, I should make it right at the end of practice. What’s the plan?”

“First having pizza and then go to the club! Even Philipp and Nika are coming, Adrien and élias too.”

I look down at myself. My perfectly tailored suit, dress shirt and tie aren’t really a suitable outfit. “Is there any way I can change at the studio?”

“Of course! I have to get going! See you soon! Love you!” He smooches loudly into his phone twice and hangs up. I can feel the smile spreading across my face and the warmth gathering in my belly, traveling from there through my body and I refuse to hide it . I have feelings, Papa. Why can’t I show them? They are so strong. How can something so strong be wrong? Explain it to me. How?

I wasn’t unhappy before I met Micki, everything was just... less. And now that I know what it feels like to feel, I’ll never give him up. No matter what happens.

When I arrive, Micki’s crew has just finished practice, and the dancers are on their way to the changing rooms. Micki is chatting animatedly with one of the girls, his arms wildly moving in the air while he does a bouncy spin, which leads me to the conclusion they’re talking about the choreo. I’ve never seen the girl before, she’s probably new. Micki’s told me that someone is moving north to live with their partner, maybe she got the spot, or would like to.

The boys walk past me, greet me, high-five me. Philipp grins sheepishly at me and tugs at his damp tank top. “I’ll hug you later, okay?” I feel so incredibly welcome—until Nika slips through behind Micki, while running after Philipp.

When our eyes meet, she stops. “I’m serious. One mistake and I’ll finish you off. Don’t underestimate me.”

“I’m not afraid of you. There’s no reason to be.” I won’t let her unsettle me.

“If you say so. Micki is too good for you, you don’t deserve him, but he’s chosen you. And I’ll have to accept that.” Determined, she holds out her right hand to me. “Welcome to the family. You’re one of us now, don’t ruin it.” Her handshake is firm and unyielding, just like Nika herself.

But that’s only one side of her, I’ve seen her screaming in devastation and lifeless in élias’s arms, and I admire her for her incredible strength.

“Thank you, I promise I’ll give everything I’ve got.”

“I hope so. For your own sake.” And with these words, she walks ahead to the locker rooms.

I was so distracted by Nika that I didn’t notice Micki stopping not far from me and, as the corners of my mouth lift upwards, he’s running straight into my open arms. He’s wearing loose track pants and a crop top that barely covers his nipples.

“Is this actually for men or does the manufacturer assume it doesn’t matter if the boobs are hanging out?”

Micki laughs throwing his head back. “Right? Imagine if there were C-cups in there!”

Oh God, no, please not! I’m not in the mood for this kind of mindfuck. My hands roam left and right up his flanks and my thumbs rest on his chest. “Not interested, what I see is more than perfect!” And in the next moment, Micki closes the distance between us, throwing his arms around my neck and pressing his body against mine as he kisses me. I never want to be kissed by anyone else again.

“Dude, get dressed! Nobody wants to see that!” A T-shirt flies my way and everyone laughs as it hits me.

“Awww, Sam’s jealous!” Micki’s lips form a pitying pout, and he slides his pointed index finger over my breastbone to the waistband of my boxers, causing goose bumps to erupt over my body. “Do you want to take a look inside? Then you know what to be jealous of!”

The whole locker room roars, and I smile cautiously. I really don’t want to embarrass anyone here, so I grab Micki’s wrist and tenderly kiss his pulse. “Just for you to see, no one else.”

“Oh my God, you guys are so cute! Maybe I need to get me a boyfriend too, so someone can be like that with me for once.” That was Leo. Leo looks like he’s 12 but he’s just turned 19. In terms of looks, he would be a good match for the new girl, but somehow I have the feeling she’s not really doing it for him.

“Do that, but I’m not sharing this one, he’s all mine.” Smooth as a cat, Micki snuggles up to me. My forehead falls against his and we don’t have to say a word.

***

“Awesome that you guys got your shit straight. Micki’s cool.” Ilkay holds his beer bottle out to me and I clink mine against it.

“I know, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with him if he wasn’t.”

I don’t know what’s wrong with him, it’s his birthday, shouldn’t he be celebrating with his friends? Instead, he sitting next to me and stares into his beer bottle as if it has the answers to all the questions in the world. “You’ve only been with women before Micki, right?”

What is he getting at? I nod in confirmation and take another big sip. Out of the corner of my eye, I follow Ilkay’s gaze and see a few girls from our group with Micki and Leo. A crowd of people has formed around them, which doesn’t surprise me, because it’s so hot to watch them. They all know what they’re doing, including Leo, who’s got some killer moves for still being this young, and Ilkay’s gaze hangs on his every move. That’s interesting...

Micki breaks away from the group, dancing towards me. His hips roll and his body writhes like a snake. In his high heels, he stands out from the crowd and attracts everyone’s attention.

For me, Micki has three styles:

Number 1: feminine man. This is his everyday look, with clothes from the men’s department complemented by classic feminine cuts, no make-up, and sneakers.

Number 2: read feminine. This is when he’s dancing and whenever he feels like it, when he goes out or is partying, the perfect illusion for anyone who doesn’t know him. Micki loves to live this side of himself so freely, with flowing fabrics on his body. But never skirts or dresses, those aren’t his thing, but they don’t have to be. He has such a classical, timeless elegance; the way he moves, so soft, so flowing. No one would even think that Micki is a man. Especially not with eyeliner and lipstick.

And then there’s number three. I affectionately call it “mindfuck”, because for the life of me I don’t have another word for it. I love “mindfuck” the most, because I love the way people look at him. When I see question marks in their eyes because they don’t understand who is standing in front of them. Most of them are in awe, because he’s so freaking beautiful.

Today is a “mindfuck” day with high heels, Marlene pants in a flowing fabric and a skintight crop top made of black lace. His nipples are showing through, so from the front it’s very clear that a man is standing in front of you. From behind, it’s a completely different story.

That’s why I’m not surprised when a man my age dances up to Micki from behind. His hand rests on Micki’s flat and bare stomach– my stomach–and his hips press in circles against his bottom. Micki’s eyes find mine, a challenging glare in his gaze. “Take back what’s yours.”

I slowly stand up, take the last sip of my beer and close the distance to the two dancing men. My hands grip Micki’s hips and I get closer and closer until our cocks are touching through our pants. Then I give us a little thrust that makes my boyfriend whimper and me see stars.

The guy says something in German. “Sorry, I don’t understand you.”

The answer in English follows promptly. “Find your own girl for the night, asshole!”

The guy behind Micki tries to save his prey from me. Too bad Micki has never been prey, let alone his.

“I’ve already found my man for the night, don’t worry.” The guy looks at me uncomprehendingly. He’s not ugly or anything, at least I don’t think he is, but he’s so boringly average, so unexciting. Micki’s little nipples are begging for my attention, hard and pointed through that hint of nothingness covering his chest and I can’t help but lower my head and slide my tongue over them.

My boyfriend is exciting, so exciting, the way he’s dancing between us, shaking his ass and holding my gaze, letting everyone know he belongs with me. But the guy doesn’t get it. “What are you doing here if you like men?”

“This.” In one swift movement, I twist Micki out of the guy’s grip pressing him with his back against my chest. Then I grab his chin and kiss him. Deeply, passionately, with lots of tongue. My cock presses hard against Micki’s little ass and fuck, I want in there.

“You... fuck... what is this?” I hope the inappropriate wording is due to his poor English.

“THAT...” and I emphasize the word so he hopefully realizes how disrespectful the wording is, “... is my partner. HE is a really good dancer, don’t you think?”

Still wide-eyed, he says something to Micki in German. Not unfriendly, more stunned. Micki just sheepishly shrugs his narrow shoulders, then the guy turns around and leaves.

“Okay, that was hot. Can we go home now? I’m going to get in trouble here.” Micki fans his face with the flat of his hand and fuck, I love this man.