Page 84 of At The End Of The Day

He hooked my nape and pulled me back slowly. His eyes glazed and brows lifted, he whispered, “You fucking ruined me, Vinny,” and kissed me.

Realizing what he meant, I moaned into his mouth and sagged into the mattress, sliding my arm over his chest. Though my dick was getting hard, I knew he wasn’t ready for any more physical activity, so I resigned myself to just snuggle.

I snuggled. I know, being a big, burly, gangbanging man, I shouldn’t revel such an act, but I did. It was something I’d been denied my whole life. Even as kids, Billy and I never snuggled, afraid someone would walk into our room and find us.

This is what I’d been longing for, what I’d always dreamed for. Sadly, this brought forth a new fear. Was Dash strong enough to accept the consequences of us being together, or was I about to lose this sensation right after finally experiencing it?

As the minutes ticked by into an hour, we continued to kiss, touch, explore, pet, and cuddle…and I fell so goddamn deeply in love with Dario Mangiacavallo. The thunderstorm that had hit earlier in the day returned, darkening the room and cooling the temperatures. Rain pelting the window, we continued to love on one another until we both drifted to sleep.

This time, neither one of us woke with nightmares. We’d found a peace in one another.

Chapter 35

Dario “Dash” Mangiacavallo

Thursday 10.03.2019

It had been four days since Vincent showed up on my doorstep, out of his mind with grief, threatening to kill himself. Other than that one day, however, he’d not touched me, preferring to stay withdrawn. Most days, he just sat in the corner of my room, on the floor, looking out the window. For hours. No speaking, barely eating, just silence and stillness.

Frustrated, I truly felt as if I had no choice but to slip him benzos again because I was climbing the fucking walls! I needed to feel that man again, I needed what only he had ever been able to make me feel.

Standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom, I carefully peeled away the old bandage to the bad wound in my stomach and discarded it to the small trashcan. Lifting my arm above my head, I stretched my torso to inspect the reflection.

“Huh.”

Not only was it healing at an amazingly rapid pace, the pain was dulling with every day. I was actually able to fully bathe myself this morning without issues. Even cooked an easy breakfast for us of eggs and bacon with some toast. Of which Vincent only ate a few bites before pushing it away, but progress. For both of us.

Lowering my arm, I frowned at the deterioration of my muscles. It was nearing almost two months now since we fled to the mountains of Georgia and I’d been able to properly hit the gym, and it was showing. On me and Vincent. How long before we could go back? Maybe I could get online and purchase a few things for the house, light weight activities that wouldn’t fuck us up while we continued to heal.

I picked up the box of bandages and pulled out a fresh one, ripping away the wrapper. Carefully smoothing it over the wound, I tended to the others, using about four before being done. Two of them were scarred enough to be left alone, at least, in my opinion.

Done, I opened the drawer, got my brush, and dragged the bristles through my wet hair, smoothing it away from my face. Accidentally glimpsing into my own eyes for the first time, I stilled, my ears suddenly full of mine and Vincent’s groans as we practically came in unison the other day. My focus lowered, not too surprised to see my dick flexing.

My arms lowering, I tapped the edge of the counter with the brush, scrutinizing my own image. Funny, I didn’t look any different now that I had the gayness. Maybe bitch was right, and gay people really were no different than any other person. I certainly didn’t feel different.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, because I felt good. Like… really good. Not just about myself but my future. Happy? Was this happiness? I’d been content most of my life, forever chasing that elusive goal of happiness. Had I found it? With Vincent?

I leaned backward and looked into the bedroom. He was passed out, lying awkwardly on the mattress. A smirk tugging one corner of my mouth, I tossed the brush down and pushed the door aside to strut forward. Right away, I pulled him all the way onto the bed and began undressing him. When he was fully naked, I wasted no time pulling his soft cock into my mouth, swirling my tongue and fondling his balls. Because of the drugs, it took a while for him to get hard, but once he was, I lifted to my hands and knees and bobbed my head up and down, side to side, really gurgling on that amazing dick.

Breaking away for a breath, a string of spittle stretched from my chin to his tip as I pumped and gazed at his face. I wasn’t quite sure what I felt for him, but something was different. He wasn’t just my brother anymore, my best friend. Something had changed, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

Straightening my back, I threw my legs on either side of his and scooted upward. I spit on my fingers and wiped them over his tip, then added more to smear across my ass. Envious he could take a dick without lube, I wanted to do the same, so refused to get it from the nightstand. One hand pulling a cheek aside, the other guided him into place while I watched his expression. Gradually sinking, I hissed at the pain but was determined to make this work.

“Unh, fuck, ow, shit.”

I rose and spit some more, getting frustrated. Lowering again, my skin pinched and my muscles closed, refusing entry.

“Goddammit.”

More spit, a finger digging around inside to prep the hole. Finally, pleasure started to coil my gut and I grunted, my focus locked on his face. Going down a third time, it still hurt, but this time, I was liking it. Turned on, I wiggled my hips and powered through the ache. Finally, his tip burst through the resistance and I froze, my stomach spinning.

“Oh…shit,” I croaked, twitching my toes.

Instantly, my muscles clamped around it like a fucking vise and no matter what I did, I could not seem to get him to go deeper. Worried if I lifted up to add more spit, I couldn’t get him back in, I bent my spine, pulled my dick to the side, and just spit straight from my mouth onto his cock. Arching my spine the other way, my face upturned to the ceiling, I stretched to spread it around while forcing my weight down.

His dick began to bend unnaturally, and I cursed, afraid I was about to hurt him. Just before giving up, I suddenly sank down halfway, his cock punching through my clenched muscles. Pain ripped through my lower gut and I choked, breaking out in sweat. A palm spreading over the area, I looked down, my jaw gaping.

“Oh, shit.”