36. LETTING GO

/Max/

"The music is loud and reverberates between the ancient deconsecrated walls of this that once was a church, this creates a contrast that reminds me of Charles and his dual essence of a demon in the body of an angel. The genre being played is dance with more or less recent hits, a perfect mix that, combined with gin and tonics, quickly does its job, just like the crowd increasingly lost thanks to the alcohol and who knows what else that flows so easily, the low intermittent lights and this very useful smoke that is often sprayed to further cloud the already-clouded crowd.
Our base is a sofa upstairs which is usually the VIP area; you get there via the stairs, which are guarded by kind gentlemen who only let in those with a stamp. In this way we're in what I think could be considered a private area, although the real fun is downstairs, amidst the crowd dancing and making noise. In this exclusive area reserved by Mr. Leclerc, only we can come and go at will.
However, strange as it may be, to truly erase yourself you have to go down there, into the crowd, among the others. There we all quickly vanish one by one, becoming transparent to the eyes of the many people dancing, drinking, taking who knows what and having fun. Soon we become like everyone else and just like everyone else, we dance and forget who we are, we let ourselves go, losing sight of everything. Who we are, who we are with, the roles we had, the relationships, everything. There's nothing but pure fun and excitement.
That more than anything else. And the feeling that something could happen at any moment. It will soon be like that. I can feel it.
I'm with the others on the dance floor, I'm basically standing still while they dance more or less actively. I just move my head, but I'm here with them, in the midst of the chaos because I like it.
We soon lose sight of each other, someone is always here with us in zone, but dances alone with the partner he's interested in; with the excuse of the huge noise that's making it hard to breathe and the confetti being shot alternately with the smoke, helping to intermittently obliterate us all, if you're smart you can have some damn privacy and flirt in peace.
It's here that I discover that Lando and Carlos are courting and perhaps they're already at the next stage, or maybe they'll get there tonight; I also discover that Alex and George are looking at each other while they move close together as if no one else were around.
I can barely see them all because it's hard to tell between the lights, the confetti and then the smoke, so I see and identify them because I know who they are and where they are, but at a certain point George and Alex disappear. Yeah, well, from being here to being gone!
As soon as I notice them, my face probably makes a funny expression and by chance I bump into Charles, who looks at me and bursts out laughing, so I realize he's seen me and that I must have been explicit.
Charles comes slowly closer to me and for a moment I shiver as I freeze paralyzed.
- Your face speaks for itself! - he says bringing his mouth close to my ear so I can hear him. Technically no part of him is touching me, but my mind anticipates a contact that isn't there and I get even more excited.
- Really? - I ask turning my head slightly toward him to answer. I search for his eyes and his face, which doesn't evade, he gives it to me in all its beauty, up close and all for me. To prolong the moment as much as possible, I add to this suffocating closeness: - and what does my face say?
- WOW! - his response is spontaneous and indeed reflects exactly what I was thinking as I watched those four, in fact I burst out laughing and I do it mostly because I need to vent a little.
I'm excited. I'm about to grab him by the hips and push him into the middle of the crowd, hide there with the others and stick my tongue in his mouth, but just at this point, Pierre grabs Charles's shoulder and separates us.
- She's finally gone to the bathroom, where there's a gloriously long line for the ladies. Please, Max, give me a moment!
Shit!
Pierre turns to me pleadingly and since I really have nothing against him, I laugh because I understand what's behind all this and I nod disappearing toward our safe, more secluded and quiet zone.
I have to breathe and above all, I mustn't see them. Or rather, I shouldn't. For my own good.
I pour myself another gin and tonic from the carafe on our coffee table and sip it listlessly on the couch. Some of his guests who were here with us are sprawled out and sleeping exhausted, but basically I'm alone and I can sit here in peace and ruminate on Pierre's shitty timing.
On the one hand I think it's crazy to do certain things in the middle of so many people, even if they’re everyone high and you can't really see anything, anyway there's a risk. I don't know if it's the right thing to do, I don't know if they'll actually do it. Pierre's girlfriend could come back at any moment, and... well, it's just a matter of finding the right moment and knowing how to do it.
I look down hurting myself and I see Pierre, who's a few inches shorter than Charles, putting arms around his neck partially hiding their faces. Then he clings to him laughing, as if they were two old friends having fun together, which they actually are. At this point they shoot billions more confetti from above and you can see even less, but I know they're kissing. I can't actually see them because they're somehow covering themselves with their arms and right now they look like just anyone, you can't tell it's them; the crowd and the chaos are swallowing them up, but I know they're kissing.
Damn. Fuck. Fuck, damn it!
But at this very moment, as I lean against the railing looking out over the dance floor and glaring at them, Charles's eyes drift upward searching for something, something he seems to find as soon as he catches me, seeing as he stops wandering aimlessly.
His eyes remain fixed on mine despite the low lights and the distance, but I'm sure he's watching me and he does so while they kiss and dance, rubbing against each other. Of course I'm hit by a shock of electricity so powerful that it shakes me to the core stunning me and I just know that I feel like I'm going to explode.
To avoid going down there and tearing Charles from Pierre's arms and mouth, I down the entire gin and tonic and throw myself back onto the couch like a puppet without strings, leaning back, hoping to fall asleep like the people here who must be in an alcoholic coma.
Fuck everyone. What a shitty idea coming here.
The alcohol and the position are making me dizzy and as everything spins, I close my eyes and hope to be carried away. I hope to open my eyes and find myself somewhere else. Anywhere, it doesn't matter where.

But when I open my eyes it's because something undefined catches my attention.
Someone has approached our sheltered spot and is pouring himself a drink. I'm still confused and dazed and can only focus on one thing, but it’s enough. I could distinguish his ass from a thousand and as I realize it, a wicked smile appears on my lips.
Caterina's back, huh? Bless Pierre's girlfriend. I owe you a favor, beautiful.
I just lift my head remaining sprawled on the sofa, my arms across the backrest, my legs spread. Charles turns and looks at me; he's definitely done it also before when I had my eyes closed.
I smile at him mischievously without saying anything. You're disheveled, sweaty and undone: your shirt is now unbuttoned and you look damn good.
I bite my lip, he drinks the gin and tonic which I don't think is his favorite drink, but suddenly it seems to have become one and while he sucks on the straw as if he were sucking on something else, without taking his eyes, filled with the same mischief, from mine, he comes dancing closer. There's no one sober in this area right now and there's always some kind of bouncer/guard watching who comes and goes in this private section of the club, so I know that from down there, where the crowd is, they can't see what's going on up here.
Well, buddy, just don't let anyone come right now. Not now, please.
Stay down there and make out pretending to be normal people and get lost in each other's company.
Charles is here now and he's dancing for me. Because as he approaches my open legs, which seem to be waiting for him, he does just that.
He dances.
And he does it fucking well, without taking his eyes off mine.
He's also good at dancing, the asshole; he doesn't do anything excessive, he sways his body, especially his hips, one arm raised above his head, the other holding the glass he's still to suck.
You're fucking sexy, Charles.
Our legs brush against each other and I close mine against his; I don't imprison him, but I touch him and upon this contact I straighten up in the seat, waiting. Charles doesn't move and it's as if he's waiting for my move, one of those unpredictable ones that only I, the unstoppable lunatic, could make. Are you provoking me? Look, it's dangerous.
Well, if you dance like this, so fucking sexy just for me, oozing sex, my dear, I have to please you and not giving a damn about anything or anyone, I stand up; Charles doesn't move away, he barely gives me room to get up. Our bodies brush against each other and I'm filled with shivers and excitement, but instead of grabbing his hips like he probably wants, I put my fingers on his straw and drink what's left of his gin and tonic.
Yes, I was dizzy before, but now I'm wonderfully awake. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm in the perfect daze, the one that makes me do whatever the fuck I want without caring, things I wouldn't do under normal conditions.
But right at this moment, with our eyes locked at a distance practically the size of a glass, devouring each other with our lust-filled gaze, the disco comes to our aid and down below, in the middle of the dance floor and the crowd, they spray the famous stage smoke that slowly expands and begins to rise. It takes a while to reach and erase us, but taking inspiration from Pierre, as soon as I feel it enveloping us, I let go of the straw and grab his hips pulling him towards me. Our pelvises collide abruptly and Charles raises his arms to keep from spilling the glass on us; he rests them on my shoulders, just as the number one expert at covering up sins did before.
A thousand electric shocks run through us; I can clearly feel his groin swollen against mine in the same condition, but he doesn't oppose, holding me close with his arms, waiting, fearless, as charged with desire as I am.
Now we no longer exist thanks to the smoke that takes a while to completely dissipate and anyway his arms cover us well. We move to the music together: I, who am usually a wood, don't do much, but the sexy man rubs himself against me as if I were his pole and my hands slide from hips to his hot ass. I'm about to reach his mouth and make it mine, but the smoke then clears and someone calls to him from the stairs as he's climbing, so Charles, with a smile I can see perfectly, mischievous, sly, full of promise and expectation, slips away from me. As soon as we're visible, he grabs the empty jug of Gin and Tonic and goes downstairs to refill it, meanwhile he grabs his friends who were climbing up and brings them back down.
Damn bastard. Seduced and abandoned for the umpteenth time.
You know, things won't always go well for you.
The time will come when I'll react and you'll regret playing with me so much.
Laughing, amused and stunned at the same time, without even thinking twice, I follow him downstairs, determined not to give up for a shit.”

/Charles/

"When I got up and saw him sprawled on the couch, his arms outstretched at his sides, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, I was so excited that I barely restrained myself from sitting on top of him, straddling him and sticking my tongue in his mouth.
I drank precisely to find the courage to do it, but he opened his eyes and prevented me from doing anything.
Not that I couldn't, but at that point, that exchange of glances between us started and I was lost.
I'm drunk and after this drink I'm even more so, imagine what I'm about to drink. But this is exactly what I want to do. Get so drunk that I don't understand anything anymore and do whatever I want, I don’t care.
I'm fine, I'm really fine for the first time in a long time. Winning this GP has put me back in the world and I want to be in this world now.
I didn't expect to find Max here, on the one hand he really messes up my life because the more I drink, the less control I have, but I'm still with Pierre and until I resolve this with him, I can't exactly do whatever the fuck I want. But the longer the evening goes on, the less I understand, and the less I understand, the more I continue to numb myself to try to understand even less.
I don't want to control myself.
I want to do as the wise Seb suggested.
I want to let go.
Whatever happens, I'm drunk anyway, right? Nothing I do tonight matters.
That's why I keep teasing and provoking Max.
Anyway tomorrow I'll say 'Sorry, I was drunk,' and I'll tell it to Pierre too when he tells me something, because he'll definitely tell me.
I grab another jug ​​of Gin and Tonic, bring it back up and drink some more with the people I met on the stairs and brought with me: Alex and George; Lando and Carlos, I assume, have disappeared somewhere to fuck, good for them.
Others who were with us come up and join us, including Pierre and Caterina, so we drink a little more catching our breath, but just as I'm passing out the drinks, praying I don't fall like an idiot, I realize my prey is missing.
- Where’s Max? - I ask surprised. He was here earlier when we were about to kiss!
- And Lando and Carlos? - Alex asks, completely taken aback.
- Good morning! - George says, ironically and derisively!
His partner looks at him angrily.
- Good night, maybe! - he replies, even though it doesn't make sense as a response in this context.
- Who knows where they are, huh? - George asks allusive, laughing. Alex finally understands what he's referring to and laughs too, on the second train.
- And anyway, I think Max must have found company too, good for him! - George says without thinking too much.
At this deduction I glare at him, my mood changing dramatically and when Alex notices it, he elbows me glancing quickly at Pierre who has just joined us and tries to understand what we're talking about. I strangely understand immediately. I smile again handing him the carafe to fill their glasses.
Only as I'm filling them do I realize the rest, with the typical mental retardation of a nearly dead drunk: Alex knows everything about me and Max.
Even though there's actually nothing to know because technically nothing happened.
I think.
Well, maybe something, but more in my imagination. Maybe in his too, judging by the way he looked at me before and the way he grabbed my ass.
With a mischievous smile, I perk up and, with the excuse of refilling the carafe, which is almost empty, I say I'll be right back and to expect another round. Some glasses haven't been filled; it's my duty, as the party leader, to ensure everyone's hydration.
With this excuse, I go downstairs and when I hear someone else say they're coming with me, Alex promptly intercepts them with some excuse.
I don't know what the hell he knows or thinks he knows and believes what's happening or needs to help us to realize, but I think I still have to thank him.
As soon as I get downstairs, I drop the carafe on a counter and instead of having it refilled, I start looking for Max. Not that it's easy, there are too many people and the lights are always too low even without confetti or smoke, so I frown unsuccessfully, move a bit haphazardly and just when I'm about to give up extremely annoyed, I spot him.
The asshole is dancing with a girl who's clearly aiming for his beautiful, full lips. The girl's tits are far too large and decidedly undercovered; they press perfectly against his chest and only when they're about to kiss does she mischievously turn and lean forward, dancing and rubbing her round, perfect ass against his crotch, tight in his usual ultra-tight jeans. If he doesn't change the style, I'll give him a closet full of them in a bigger size! These jeans even outline the shape of his dick, besides giving him an amazing ass.
But the asshole in the tight jeans grabs her hips, she's a bitch, all ass and tits that does that damn pornographic dance, right at this point our eyes meet, we look at each other, we recognize each other, and he nods at me licking his lips mischievously.
Are you provoking me now?
What is this, revenge?
Hey, that's a game you shouldn't play, you know?
I'm quickly looking for a girl to do the same and return the favor, but just at this moment Pierre grabs me from behind, wraps his arms around my chest and kisses my ear with his typical cheerfulness.
- He's upstairs talking to someone else's girlfriend about something super interesting! He says she's tired and wants to go in a bit, so I asked her...
He'd talk forever if I didn't turn around not caring what he was saying. He has perfect timing.
If Max wants to play this way, I'll be no different.
Don't you remember that I'm vindictive and competitive?
Now I'll remind you.
When my hands grab Pierre's buttocks and I pull him closer without hesitation, Pierre's eyes widen and he looks at me in surprise.
- Are you sure? - I nod, my expression filled with need, searching for his mouth in this chaos. Everyone's drunk and more high than us, obviously.
- You’re dead drunk! - he exclaims looking me in the eye. If he says so, I believe him; I don't think there's anyone on earth who knows me better.
I nod and shrug.
- Like everyone else around here!
It's actually late and those left are with two feet in the grave, no one even knows his name anymore, not even me, since I'm always pulling Pierre by the ass toward Max and this whore who doesn't dare let go of him.
Pierre stares at me and after a bit of confusion, he laughs and sinks into me. I think he likes me even more, so high and out of control.
- You’re a maniac if you lose control and drink too much, huh?
I giggle bringing my mouth close to his, provoking him to cancel the remaining distance.
- And why are you so boringly sober, though? It's the perfect evening... anything will happen tonight.
I don't know why I'm saying this or what I intend to do. I think my brain has been asleep for hours now and it's true, I'm drunk, but that drunk who doesn't stop even for a second, I won't collapse until I've gotten something of what I want and I want at least an orgasm.
Pierre smiles ecstatically, he's about to answer me, but when I see Max finally make out with the whore, looking at me provocatively and damned, I don't think twice and do the same.
The lights dim further and it's almost dark, the smoke is sprayed again and creeps from my feet, rising higher; before we disappear, with our tongues entwined in our joined mouths, my eyes flick to Max who's still staring at me.
This isn't a game I'll lose. No matter what you do, I won't be left behind.
I had something else in mind, obviously, but maybe it's better this way. With Max I would have made a mess, but with Pierre the mess is already underway and I might as well take advantage of it since I'm definitely not going to fix it tonight.
The smoke rises and obliterates us and only at this point, when it's impossible to see for a while and we're entwined, do I feel one hand too many, one that isn't Pierre's because his are wrapped around my shoulders.
It was enough to turn around a little more and there we are, in the perfect position to do something else. His hand slips under my pants, which aren't as tight as his; he does it with such force that it makes me shudder and Pierre will probably think I'm getting turned on by him. Because, in fact, I am. I move further, step back, and find myself back to back with Max. I know it's him, I don't need to see.
I'd recognize his scent among a thousand, he's barely even sweating since he's barely danced. In fact, he doesn't dance: he lets the others rub themselves against him.
His hand doesn't leave my butt and grips me even tighter; just as he's about to find my slit with his fingers, I jump realizing the smoke is rising, so without thinking I grab Pierre and walk away from here. I don't want to run away, I don't want to give him the idea that he's won, but I couldn't stay there and above all...
- Charles, you're so hard...
Especially if I don't come now, I think I'll literally explode.
- Don't you want to give me my prize? - I whisper, meowing as I lick his ear, standing in front of the bathrooms. I hesitate for a moment, Pierre laughs and hugs me.
- And who said I don't want to? If we hurry, we can make it before someone comes to claim me!
With that, my smile widens against his skin and as the bathroom doors open letting us in, I see Max arrive with his whore of the moment and with a subtle, furious, totally vindictive look, I intertwine Pierre's fingers and pull him inside locking us in.
I waste no time, I immediately pull down his pants from behind as far as I need and I take out my already hard dick that doesn't have need preparation. I lick my hand and rub myself briefly, then I bend him forward against the small sink in this dirty bathroom used by everyone, probably just to do what we do. Then I penetrate him from behind: fast, hasty and vulgar like I've never been with him, like I would with Max, like he'll probably do after us, but with someone who isn't me.
It doesn't take me long to come as I imagine myself fucking him.
It didn't last long, but I was already very close to the edge. The way Max grabbed my ass before, not even outside my pants, but right inside. He inserted his hand with such force and precision and was about to find my hole.
It's a partially liberating orgasm, but I have the feeling I'm not really satisfied; as I realize it, there's a knock from outside and I know it's him, and I know he's doing it on purpose.
Pierre laughs amused, excited, hopefully satisfied.
- You know... - he says as he turns on the faucet and splashes water on his face. - We fucked in a deconsecrated church...
I laugh at that too and it's the first time I've managed to do since this little fight with Max started.
- It couldn't be more deconsecrated than this!
I rinse my face too, then I leave fully aware of who I'll find in front of me.
When Max looks at me, he’s furious and annoyed, but I raise my eyebrows in question, feigning innocence.
- Oh, hello! - I pretend I didn't see him coming.
- Max! Was that you? Sorry! - Pierre, candid and blissful, doesn't know anything and it's better this way.
When I regain my conscience, tomorrow morning, when I've sobered up, I'll regret everything and never look anyone in the face again, but for now I want to keep going like this for the whole fucking night.
- Get out of here! - he grunts.
I know what you're going to do, go ahead, I just did it too.
Max walks in with her and I can only imagine how brutal he'll be, how he'll imagine having my ass in his hands.
It's the unspoken secret between us, the secret we'll never tell for who knows how long, because we're both certified idiots. We'll play like this, teasing and torturing each other in a kind of eternal competition. Because it’ll always be like this, between us.
A competition for everything, no holds barred, where one of us stoops to the other's level, whatever that may be, no matter what.
There's nothing he does that I can't do. And vice versa.”

NOTES: Obviously, I don't know if what I'm writing in these chapters is even remotely possible, but assuming it is, let's enjoy this (for me) splendid fantasy. I'll point out right away that even though I'm Italian, I'm not from Milan and I've never been to the Gattopardo. I have no idea where people go for fun in those areas, nor if it's suitable for the kind of people I've written in the fic. I just looked it up online and came up that place, which was a deconsecrated church. I don't even know if it's big enough and IN. Please have mercy and pretend it's all plausible. I know that in general, the atmosphere in certain places can get quite confusing, especially after hours and hours of loud music, low and flashing lights, smoke, alcohol, drugs and above all, crowds. I remember well what it was like when I used to go to places like that; I was inspired by my old experiences. So, I BELIEVE, it would be possible to go unnoticed or blend in with others. Thanks for your attention. Kisses, Akane