27. FOR A HUG

/Max/

“It was as if I couldn't wake up. I felt like I was in a nightmare where you're a witness to horrible things happening to you and you don't know how to stop it all.
You let yourself be carried away in the hope that sooner or later it will somehow end.
And then, finally, someone wakes me.
Not the clash with him, but his 'Excusez-moi'.
As soon as I hear Charles's voice speaking in French, the world suddenly comes back into view; it's as if the darkness I was traveling in vanishes in an instant. The corridor and the open elevator take shape and I look at him in amazement realizing only now, losing myself in his green eyes, that I'm literally in his arms and he’s in mine.
We hold each other for a moment that seems longer than it actually is, then we immediately separate, but there's no awkwardness. There's regret, at least on my part.
For a moment, there with his hands on my hips, I felt fine.
Charles? Really did I bump into Charles just now?
I move and let him out so I can get my things and slip into the elevator to take his place.
I can't speak or say anything, I can't even hide my terrible face and my dark mood. It sees I feel bad, this time his gaze, which is usually the same, always absent, is fixed on my face and as the doors are about to close, I can't help but think how happy I was in his arms.
His hand suddenly slips over the lock and stops it, the doors reopen and a shock of amazement runs through me.
- Are you okay? - he asks with a delicacy that gets stuck in my brain and maybe even in my chest.
- Nope. - I reply spontaneously without thinking for a second. I feel like shit and it shows and I don't have to pretend anything, not like Charles that if someone knows what he really feels, maybe the world will fall apart.
His hand stays there on the door, holding them open.
There's a moment. There's a precise moment between us, is like a revelation.
- I’m sorry. - he replies.
Hug.
That's what I need.
I need a hug. 
Fuck, hug me, Charles. Please.
I stare at his hand still there, I tense up.
I'm about to hug him.
I'm about to take him and pull in and hold him.
That's what I need.
I need a fucking hug.
Maybe one is as good as the other, but I need to be held.
Instead he pulls his hand away and I remain tense until the end, but then the doors close and I release my muscles regretting not having done so.
It was wrong, I would have dug my own grave, but I needed it.
My eyes start burning again.
How can I feel like this if I left him?
I'm such an idiot.
The elevator descends called by someone and when the doors reopen, I hope that, as if by magic, there's Charles, then I'd hug him and fuck off.
Why do we need physical contact when we're feeling like shit and suffering like wretches?
Sarah appears in front of the ground floor doors and looks at me surprised to find me here, still with a face that says it all.
- I was worried, you weren't coming anymore... - she then says.
- Yes, I'm here. - I reply with difficulty. I gather my things and walk out passing her without touching or saying anything.
No, it's not like I was happy with just anyone's hug. It wasn't that.
It was his.
While Sarah returns the room on my behalf, I go outside to the car which is already waiting.
I won't say anything for the entire trip, I'll keep quiet, no one will dare say a word. I won't touch anyone. I won't hug anyone. I won't say anything. I won't do anything.
Then, tonight, I'll have a damn gin tonic. Or two, or three.

In my mental and emotional state, I didn't want to set foot home unless I rushed to put my things down, I changed immediately and then texted the whole crew saying I needed some distraction, that I needed a gin tonic or two.
They've been my lifelong friends, they know me well and I trust them implicitly, but not enough to tell them about me and Daniel. They've never found out, nor do I intend to tell them, but I also know that if they were to find out, I wouldn't worry. I know they'd support me and there wouldn't be any problems whatsoever.
So since I really need to lose myself tonight, distract and numb me to the point of destruction, I know I'm in good hands.
I trust completely to them, fully aware that I'll be back home without remembering how.

The music is loud and pounding, like a jackhammer, the kind that turns you senseless and makes no sense at all. I've never had a sensitivity for music or for anything else, apparently: it's here, it's loud, it thunders powerfully penetrating my chest and dictating the rhythm of my heart and I can't connect a single neuron in my brain anymore.
I'm finally switched off thanks to the right place in one of Monte Carlo's exclusive clubs, where you can be nobody among disgustingly rich and important people, in the midst of a crowd so intoxicated by the music, the drink and the low psychedelic lights that no one looks at anyone, no one focuses on you.
You can vanish as you please, erase yourself, exactly as I wanted.
I'm not one who enjoys hurting others, especially those I care about. Because I truly care about Daniel, but the attraction is gone. That thing that was there before that made us fuck constantly, is over and we have to deal with it.
He would never have had the courage to take this shitty step, so it fell to me.
It'll get over it soon, when we see that we can be together better than before because we'll no longer be obligated to seek an orgasm together.
That's not our dimension anymore.
My friends understood perfectly what I needed and brought me here. When I said I needed to destroy myself just for tonight, we came here. They didn't ask me anything, knowing about the competition they thought I was crazy for it. Then I probably started drinking too many gin and tonics and my big mouth must have spoken too much.
What the fuck do I know?
From the moment I finished the first and moved on to the second, I lost count and slowly, thanks also to this overbearing music, I lost myself too.
Just as I wanted.
After a couple of drinks here on one of the sofas, we get up and go move around a bit in the crowd that's suffocating us.
I'm nobody in here tonight.
I'm surrounded by a lot of people who all look the same to me and the low flashing lights make it pointless to try to identify anyone. Besides I don't want to know anyone around me and soon I lose sight of my friends while I continue to suck gin and tonics like there's no tomorrow, but as I move and sweat, what I put in also partially comes out.
How long have I been dancing?
Wait, dancing? Me dancing?
Well, this stuff isn't really danceable; you're surrounded by a mass of unknown assholes and you move however the hell you want without realizing it.
One of my friends takes my glass and puts another in my hand surprising me because up until now I've always been the one refilling myself. I know that in these cases they tend to try to stay sober so they can catch me when the time is right and they know when that time is.
That's why I'm with them, because I trust them.
But only when I pick up the new glass filled with ice and gin and tonic, do I realize it can't be offered by them. I frown uncomprehending and then stare at the person who gave it to me.
The lights flicker on and off constantly and it's hard to tell who it is, but I don't think I recognize him.
He's a good-looking guy.
I understand that.
He's probably gay.
After a moment of shock, I shrug, raise my glass as if to thank him and start drinking. The next second I'm wrapped around him and we're dancing together. Always assuming that what we're doing isn't dancing, but jumping and moving without any real intention.
His hands end up on my ass in a clear message that doesn't bother me. I feel nothing. I don't really feel anything, so I'm just going to see what happens if I go with someone else.
But it's likely that I don't really understand anything I do, I just do it. Because that's how I like to live. Just doing, without thinking, without planning, without intentions. Letting instinct carry me away.
I drop the empty glass somewhere and end up with him in a secluded area near the bathrooms, but more distant and darker. I sense other people in the fog of my head, but I can't really see anything. They're definitely doing what I'm doing too, with me turned toward a wall holding me up. He's behind me, pulling my jeans down just enough and grabbing me by the hips. I'm slightly bent over, he's pushing and I'm moving towards him.
I start to feel my body thanks to his cock inside me, which partially gives me the sensation of something foreign. Maybe it's a twinge because he didn't prepare me well, but it's better this way. The pain brings me back from the fog of my mind and the chaos, but since I'm full of alcohol in my body, I don't really feel it much. Then it gets beautiful, the pleasure starts to mix with the pain and everything inside me is a fucking mess, exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I was looking.
I know I'm moaning and I can't hear anything because the music reverberates all the way here and I know he's fucking me with ever-increasing force and impetus, just the way I like it.
The stranger slams me hard managing to touch just enough to make me feel a fucking pleasure expanding within this mess inside me.
A mess that, as I come, takes shape.
The shape has a face and it's Charles's beautiful, perfect face.
His missed embrace, before, comes back forcefully and the world slowly takes shape again as he fades. The wall I'm leaning against, the darkness, the loud music and someone leaning behind me.
A glimmer of clarity fills my head and when I feel his mouth creeping up my neck searching for my mouth, I shake my head and push my hands against the wall pulling him brutally away. I lift up my jeans as I leave when his hand grabs my arm, pulling me toward him.
- Hey! - he exclaims annoyed. I turn around angrily forgetting my jeans which remain unzipped, and raise my hand ready to slam it wherever I can just to shake him off.
I roar in the same way, raising my voice: - No, hey you! - I say brusquely.
But he blocks my passage to the club.
- Are you just going to leave me like this? - he speaks in English having heard me speak that language, but I turn around and with a simple: - Fuck you! - I head toward the bathrooms, where a little light comes in.
I'm so hot, sweaty and exhausted though I don't know how much because I have no real sense of me. I feel my shirt all stuck to me, my hair on my sweaty forehead, my pants still open in an unmistakable escape. I need cold water.
I'm about to enter the bathroom when his hand tightens on my wrist stopping me again, I'm about to punch him reflexively, when the door in front of us opens, the light floods us blinding me. I close my eyes lowering my guard and the punch I was about to throw, but he takes advantage of it and pulls me towards him.
The most murderous instinct I've ever had rises in me, especially because even though I've sweated and downed a lot of alcohol, I still have a lot of it in my system and tonight, damn it, is not the right night. Don't fuck with me.
I don't have time to do anything before someone else takes my arm close to his still very strong grip. I open my eyes that get used to the light and focus on two extra hands. One on me, the other on the wrist of the asshole I fucked.
That's all I see, but I'm about to trace the owner's face when a familiar, unmistakable voice speaks in French.
- Hé, qu'est-ce que tu fais ? Lâche-le !
The shivers start reflexively. His tone is much more decisive and forceful than I'm used to hearing; his French, his wonderful r, his accent brings me abruptly and brutally back to reality and when my eyes focus on him, I'm shocked to see the very man who had given me that incomprehensible desire to be hugged.
Charles is here.”

/Charles/

“It's like a slap in the face.
It all happens suddenly and unexpectedly.
I open the bathroom door and find Max's ruined face that stops, closes his eyes blinded by the light and a guy behind grabs him by the wrist yanking him.
It's an instant: I brutally stop thinking, my mind goes blank and I become total instinct in one of those rare times when, strangely, it's not the hormone that kicks in, but the raptus.
I impulsively grab both their arms intending to free Max from this guy's grip and I squeeze his wrist as if to break it.
I'm not a particularly violent person, on the contrary. The irritable one is Max and it's strange that he let himself be overwhelmed, but I didn't have time to focus on him properly, otherwise I would have noticed his expression terribly out of line compared to his usual self.
Before I realize the various details, I say on the foot of War: - Hey, what are you doing? Leave him!
I sound rather arrogant, usually I'm always controlled or lost in an alternate world where no one bothers me, but now I feel my blood boiling.
Who the hell is this guy and what does he want to do to Max?
I tighten my grip until he loosens and only then do I let go. In the bathroom light he might be able to tell who we are, but a closer look shows that this one is completely high and I doubt he even remembers his own name. So he just shakes his head and focuses on Max before leaving.
- I didn't force you to fuck, you know? 
The guy speaks English and I understand perfectly what he's saying.
- Yeah, well, and what do you want afterward, the wedding ring? - Max replies acidly pushing him irritably with a slap on the chest. Now I recognize him, even though he's really undone.
After that the stranger finally tells him to fuck off with an unmistakable gesture and leaves. Once we're alone, we sigh together shaking our head.
- But what a guy! - I comment not knowing what to say, but my eyes are already scanning Max as he enters the bathroom and I, who was just leaving, remain inside at the door because right now it's empty and I want it to stay that way. Just in case he gets attacked again, psychopathic strangers are everywhere.
Only as I do so I realize I've become his bodyguard. Not that I'm the scary aggressive one of the two of us, but it all happened so fast that I don't think I fully understand what happened.
When Max goes to pee with his pants already open I realize what the guy had said and blush, locking the door behind me after I grab onto it. I don't know why I do it, I don't think about it at all. I just do it.
I've had two modest drinks, nothing excessive, I'm not drunk, but somehow I feel like I am.
I've danced off the alcohol, but I'm still confused.
Did he fuck that guy out there? But it's not a hotel, there are no rooms. There's just a wide, dark corridor between the bathrooms and the rest of the club. You can feel people crowded along the walls, but you don't understand a damn thing.
My eyes widen thinking that maybe I even passed by it earlier on my way here.
I could hear noises, but the music was so loud I couldn't understand anything and it was pitch black, so I barely saw the sign 'toilet.'
Did I accidentally catch Max fucking?
Wait, with a stranger?
Is he that bad?
At my strange silence, Max turns around after the sound of his peeing stops causing embarrassment.
What the hell is going on?
Why do I feel like a schoolboy about to be attacked by a bully?
When his intense blue eyes land on my inquisitive ones, they light up in a moment of mischief.
He was devastated. Until a moment ago and as soon as I opened the door door on his face, he was totally destroyed. Not just hot, sweaty, disheveled and even in disarray. He was truly emotionally destroyed. He looked like he'd been through a meat grinder.
Billions of information flash through my head in a brief moment where I overthink. He broke up with Daniel, that's a given. I know it, should I say something? But how does he look at me?
His eyes dominate and as he zips up his jeans and turns around, he's still talking to me as mischievous as his eyes, which never leave mine. I'm hot.
- Don't you have anything to say to me?
I bite my mouth and only after I mentally flash back to the guy who was squeezing his wrist, does something come out.
- Max, it's dangerous to fuck like this with strangers in a place like this...
Max laughs cheerfully and provocatively as he goes to the sink to wash his hands and face. He throws cool water on his face and neck, randomly wetting himself.
He's disheveled and everything in general is a mess, his face is very red from the heat and he looks great.
God, he looks fucking good. In fact, he's damn sexy.
And I'm excited again, but I'm left hanging here at the door which I keep tightly closed, hoping no one will try to break in.
Even if it's locked they'd disturb us.
- A place like this? - he asks amusedly. After all that, does this pique his interest?
- Dingy and crowded. - I reply immediately. As soon as I say it I think he might get angry, I didn't mean he's dingy. My eyes widen again anxious that he might get angry with me, but he comes in front of me still wet and seems anything but annoyed.
Suddenly, as he looks at me, he's no longer devastated or irritable. He almost seems reborn. He's mischievous and provocative and I'm hard, but luckily I always wear comfortable pants and it shouldn't show, but will he understand that I'm panicking?
- Don’t worry, I can handle myself.
When he speaks I smell the gin and tonic on his breath and realize he must be drunk. I'm trying to understand how drunk he’s by focusing on his eyes, but it's worse for me, obviously, because the heat starts rising again, an internal heat; It's definitely the excitement and the excessive closeness. We're not really touching, but from the way he's looking at me pleased, it seems like he's imagining me having sex with him out there in the dark.
Say something, Charles. Say something or move.
No, I can't move: I'm afraid I'll fall like an idiot if I let go of this handle; so I speak without knowing what to say.
- So it's true? You broke up with Daniel?
Did I have to say it?
It was obvious, it was implied and it's also clear he's taking it terribly. I don't know shit about them, who left who, or what happened and I won't say any bullshit that's typical of the situation.
'Come on, you'll see, everything will work out.' Especially after he fucked with someone else. I don't think it would work out after this.
As soon as I mention his name, Max changes his face and returns to his previous torn one, he suddenly darkens and for a moment I'm enchanted by the different shades he takes. He's so good at making his feelings known, he's not afraid to show them.
He doesn't need to say anything at all; I reach out and take my hand off the handle behind me and without realizing it, completely out of my control, I find the answer to my question from a while ago.
If I'd ever found myself alone with Max at a time when I'm high, what would I’ve done?
Knowing he's bad and that he's broken up with Daniel hits me harder than I thought. I realize it as my hand rests on his hot red cheek. A jolt of electricity runs through me from head to toe landing in my groin, making it incredibly hot. For a moment, I'm afraid I'll come like this.
Max's eyes widen revealing their sea-blue hues. It's as if I'm daring to do something unspeakable. He's completely shocked by my gesture, only by his face do I realize I've truly done something absurd and out of line with my usual routine.
So I immediately pull my hand away trying to blurt out something embarrassed and nervous.
- Sorry, I've been drinking a bit... this place isn't one of my favorites, but one of my friends liked it because there was a DJ there and...
And I'm talking nonsense that he doesn't listen to because suddenly, as I pull my hand away, he collapses against me wrapping his arms around my waist. He then hides his sweaty face against my neck, which isn't much less sweated, and stays there.
I hold my breath leaning against the door, my arms open for a moment of shock.
What the hell is he doing?
- Don't worry, I'm drunk too. - he mutters against my overly sensitive skin. The shivers continue to run through me hardening my cock which now, damn it, is pressing against him. I don't know what part of him is on mine, I don't want to know, but my hands rest on his arms allowing him to stay on me.
I can't breathe. Maybe my heart isn't even beating.
Maybe I'm dead.
I don't know what's happening, but it's such an intense moment that I immediately come back to myself, in an instant  I get rid of alcohol that had made me tipsy and I'm absolutely paralyzed against him.
My hands slowly slide down his back. I don't know what we're doing, I just know I like it and I don't want it to end.
This moment between us mustn't end. As I think about it, I feel him trembling against me and I realize he's hurting.
He's really hurting to the point of having drunk and done shit he won't remember tomorrow, or maybe he'll remember but regret it.
And I don't know if I mean the fuck with the stranger or this hug, but we'll both use the same excuse.
We had been drinking.
So I reach for the back of his disheveled, sweaty neck and hold him tighter. I let our pelvises press together and I think I'm really close to coming in this pathetic way.
If it weren't so fucking seedy and dangerous, I'd follow his example tonight and fuck someone. A guy. Maybe with blue eyes and blonde hair.
Oh, what the fuck is happening to me?
I feel like I've been drinking his damn gin and tonics.
When someone tries to come in from behind and finds the door locked, I open my eyes wide and come to my senses instinctively grabbing him by the shoulders. I push him away abruptly and he does the same stepping back on his own. We look at each other in panic, our hearts racing like those of two teenagers. I know he's in the same situation, I can see it in his face.
- Too many gin and tonics. Sorry. - he mutters composing himself as if I'd crumpled him. I’m waiting until I can walk, but I don't know if I can. My legs are weak.
- Yeah, I think so too. - I reply by making it as simple as I can. We weren't that drunk after all we sweated, but that's okay. It's okay to pretend that we were.
- Sorry, - he says as if regaining a shred of clarity. - I’m out of my mind tonight. I needed a hug and I think I was looking for it the wrong way. Both before and now.
He's referring to the stranger. I nod and then shake my head shrugging, not knowing what the fuck to say or do.
- Okay. Don't worry. I guess I understand.
I guess, because it's not true. I've never been so in love that I'm devastated by the end of a relationship. I imagine myself leaving Giada and thinking I wouldn't feel so bad and suddenly I know that's what I'll do these days, because there's absolutely no point in being with her since he's the only one who makes me hard right now.
Him or Pierre.
Thinking about Pierre, I recover a bit without understanding why.
Finally I move and unlock the door, turning away so they can't see me, just in case one of these stoned drunks recognizes me. Max does the same and after the guys come in complaining that there's a corridor for fucking, I jumping out red-hot again at the idea the stranger just put in my head.
They thought we were fucking.
Maybe one day it’ll actually happen like this. In a squalid toilet of an exclusive club.
Max laughs behind me and I lick my lips. I walk down the sex corridor, now I know what all these people who can be felt but not seen are doing: they're not queuing to piss.
I keep this to myself and head straight for the club's psychedelic lights and the music that's getting louder and more explosive. Before joining the crowd and separate to find our friends, we stand side by side and look at each other. Our eyes are now barely visible through the low flashing lights.
He says something, but I can't make out a damn thing, so I bring my face close to his and he presses his mouth to my ear, sending one last shiver down my spine.
- Thank you. - he says simply. I nod, but I don't say anything because I don't have the strength to respond. I give a weak smile that I know won't reach my eyes, even though I like to think it will, and I move on into the crowd, into the chaos. Because it's better this way.
Everyone on their own, tonight.
Just for tonight.
Next time, maybe not.”

NOTES: I have no idea what kind of place it is. I'm not from Monte Carlo and I've never been there, so the whole part about the place is completely fictional and the product of a vivid imagination. I know that there are generally places like this, with those dark areas where people do whatever they want; as for the rest I always assume that with so many people crowded together, loud music with dim, flickering lights that make you stupid, alcohol and various drugs, someone might not even be recognized. However, I always reiterate: it's just a fanfic. In any case the good and juicy things are finally starting. From here on out, it's a crescendo. The fuse has been lit and the process that will take them where we want has been triggered. Until next time. Kisses, Akane.