A gay adult story: Prison Island – 3 by Daemon D. Hart ,
Karl makes it clear Francesco’s his, Mouse admits he likes Francesco, and Francesco tells both of them off.
Prison Island
3.
“So much boy pussy in here,” Karl said as he looked around. “At least my cock won’t get lonely.”
Francesco didn’t look at the guy across from him. He could be talking to him or himself.
“Hey, you, pink hair, do you like cock?” Karl shouted.
Naughty laughter was the answer.
“It looks like he does,” Karl said with a satisfied sigh. “Hey, Cesco, who’s your favorite? The one with the girl hair, or the one with the girl name?”
“Why does he have to like any of them?” Mouse intervened.
Francesco was trying hard not to get pulled in that kind of stupid conversation. The soonest they landed, the faster he would get busy running. The prisoners down there, they could be real or not. But this bunch clearly had only one thing on their minds.
Fucking. And Francesco didn’t plan on ending up with his holes stuffed and turned into a bitch, like always. No, this time, he would make a run for it.
“Don’t tell me you have the hots for Cesco, Ahab,” Karl said with venom in his voice.
“And what if I do? What do you care?” Mouse asked casually, like they were talking about the weather.
“Cesco’s mine, dipshit.”
Francesco jumped to his feet. “Cut the crap, idiot,” he said while closing his fists.
Karl moved lazily as he got up, too. “Or what, bitch?”
Francesco saw red in front of his eyes. He let out a loud cry and punched Karl straight in the nose. The blond clutched his face with a growl and then, to Francesco’s utter surprise, he began laughing. He moved his hands away and let the blood run on his t-shirt.
“I like you, Cesco,” he said and pressed one finger against Francesco’s chest, leaving a red stain on it. “You’re no pussy.”
Francesco willed his blood to slow down. “No, I’m not. So stop joking around, will you?”
Karl pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, and then Francesco noticed what looked like a long knife in a sheath. What the hell? He had been kicked into the chopper with nothing but the clothes on him.
He cocked his head to one side. “What’s that?”
Karl wiped his face and then pretended to be surprised when he noticed what Francesco was pointing at. “Insurance,” he said with a grin. “Food, maybe. Surviving. You know, all that jazz. Just stick with me, Cesco. I’ll care for your ass.”
Francesco sat on the bench, the blood still pounding in his ears. That guy could have pulled that knife on him at any moment. Instead, he had taken a punch like it was nothing. Karl was dangerous, and he was better staying away from him.
“Whatcha you in for, Cesco?” Karl asked.
The nickname grated him, but he didn’t comment on it. He wasn’t sure Karl would let him take another swing at him without pulling out that blade. “I beat up my old man. No, scratch that. He’s not my old man. Just some dude banging my mom.”
And not only. Francesco would have been okay with the butt fucking. But he would never be okay with being taken for a bitch.
“So, you threw a punch at him and he went crying to the police?”
Francesco spread his knees and linked his hands in front of him. He gave Karl a pointed look. “I put him in the fucking hospital.”
Karl’s eyes grew wide, and Francesco felt proud. Better the guy know him as a basket case. “What about you?” he asked.
Karl grinned and then put up one fist. He showed Francesco his thumb. “Assault with a deadly weapon.” He stretched his index finger. “Attempted robbery.” The middle finger followed. “Resisting arrest.”
“Shit,” Francesco said in a noncommittal tone.
“Yeah,” Karl said with satisfaction. “I’m the meanest motherfucker in here.”
An amused scoff came from his right. Francesco stared at Mouse in disbelief. That guy had the nerve to get on Karl’s bad side.
“You have something to say?” Karl asked the redhead.
Mouse stretched and let out an exhale like he was bored with that conversation already. “I’m calling bullshit.”
“Oh, yeah? And why’s that?”
Mouse stretched his arm to point at the others. “Leon snapped a guy’s neck for trying to beat up his sweetheart. Ty is in here for arson, and Anya sank an 8-inch blade into his lover’s chest. Spoiler alert, the asshole survived.”
Francesco felt his scalp prickling with apprehension. Why the hell was he in here? These dudes were in for some serious shit.
“And you? What are you in for?” Karl asked Mouse.
Mouse’s face stretched into a smile. He turned his head and winked at Francesco. “That’s a secret.”
Francesco sank his forehead into his hands, elbows against the knees, and stared down. He was officially more afraid of his so-called mates than of the criminals presumptively living down there.
“Oh, in case you’re all wondering what we have in common,” Mouse began, “that’s simple. We’re all big fans of that awesome thing guys have between their legs.”
“I’m not,” Francesco said, but the strength was drained from his voice.
Suspiciously enough, Karl didn’t deny right away.
“Ahab,” Karl started, “there are only two kinds of people in the world. The ones who fuck, and the ones who get fucked. I fuck. Leon fucks. You’re a bitch.”
Francesco was happy to be left out of that.
“So what?” Mouse said like that kind of accusation didn’t bother him at all. “Do you have a problem with that? By the way, I’m vers.”
“You’re vers my ass,” Karl said with a snort. “I can tell you’re a cocksucker from a mile away.”
Mouse leaned toward Karl. “Again, so what? And you should try putting your mouth on a cock, at least once. I can tell you’d like it.”
“Get the fuck out of my face, bitch, or I’ll mess you up.”
Mouse withdrew, but he laughed in the same lazy way he seemed to do everything. Francesco didn’t want to think how it would feel to be on top of that guy, with his long legs wrapped around him. He had a feeling it would be everything.
“Chillax, mate. We’re in this shit together. You should know.”
Francesco moved his eyes from Mouse to Karl. The blond’s sneer faded. Mouse seemed to know everything about everyone. And it looked like he had something on Karl, too.
“Okay,” Karl said and worked his jaw. “We’re in this shit together. I’ll keep you, assholes, alive. How’s that?”
“Peachy,” Mouse replied. Then he turned toward Francesco and whispered, “By the way, Cesco, I think you’re deliciously gay and all in a good way.” He blew a kiss at him, and it was only half-teasingly.
Francesco looked away. Mouse had a mouth on him, in more ways than one. He spoke so casually about sucking cock. How it would feel to have a guy like that blow him?
It would blow his mind, for sure. But now, he couldn’t think of stuff like that. Now, he needed to protect his ass from all those fuckers if what Mouse was saying was true.
The chopper began losing altitude. His entire body tensed. Was it a good idea to run? Or stick with these crazies?
***
They were left in a clearing. The chopper lifted off the ground, and they stared at it for a few minutes. As surreal as that felt, they were now on their own, no parents, no juvie, no guards, no rules.
“Rule number one, kids,” Karl said loudly. “Survival one on one. Get to high ground. So, follow me.”