Another goddamn problem.
Stepping under the too-hot water after he’d spun the taps on, Alessio let steam and heat drag him from the hell of his thoughts. Except, it didn’t last. Once the sting of the hot water dulled beating down against his head and back, his mind filled with nonsense again.
Of everything.
Them.
This mess.
His feelings.
Fuck, he hated that the most.
“Les.”
Corrado’s voice had him tensing under the water, but he didn’t answer the man back. Instead, he kept his hands pressing against the cool tiles of the shower, happy with pretending like he had gone deaf.
It was easier than explaining his behavior.
Making sense of this.
“Les,” Corrado snapped again.
Still, he said nothing.
And shocker, that wasn’t good enough for Corrado, because when the man didn’t get what he wanted verbally, he yanked open the frosted glass doors of the shower, and stepped inside, fully clothed. At his side, Corrado stared hard at him, barely fazed at all by the large shower heads raining down on them from several directions. Soaked to the bone, and waiting, Corrado said nothing. Alessio didn’t move or speak, either.
Finally, he uttered, “Get out.”
“No.”
Alessio let out a dark sound. “Get the fuck—”
“Not until you tell me what that was about.”
“You fucking know.”
“Maybe I want to hear you say it.”
“Fuck you,” Alessio mumbled, shaking his head under the water, droplets sliding down his face to fall to the tiled floor. “I didn’t come here for this—for her. We’re supposed to be figuring shit out, but we haven’t even done that, and you know what’s happening with me because that’s what you fucking wanted to happen.”
He would not spell it out for Corrado.
The asshole could read between the lines.
“It wasn’t us with someone else, Corrado,” Alessio said under his breath. “That’s not what this ever was, but you didn’t let me choose—you did. And you knew what would happen if I stayed here long enough ... if I was around her long enough, so fuck you for that, too.”
Every word he threw at Corrado cut like knives. He was sure when they stabbed into Corrado, it hurt like hell. He wanted that clear, though, because it’s how this shit felt to him. Someone decided something else for him, and he didn’t get a say either way.
He could be pissed about that.
That, he could choose alone.
“Get out,” Alessio snapped at Corrado when the man just kept standing there.
“Les—”
“Go.”
Corrado didn’t leave like Alessio wanted him to. He never had understood boundaries, or possibly, a part of Corrado sensed when Alessio struggled, even when he said he wanted to be alone, he needed someone there more.
He’d been alone for most of his life.
A vicious circle.
Corrado often reminded him he wasn’t navigating life by himself so that just made this worse. It made the pain of it all amplified because God ... Alessio handed him everything, and he ruined it.
Instead of leaving, Corrado backed him against the shower wall. Alessio tipped his head back to the tiles, letting the coolness of the marble press along his jaw and cheek when Corrado buried his face into his neck. His lips touched his skin, soft and quick, silent apologies following the featherlight kisses.
He didn’t need to have it said.
He knew what Corrado didn’t say.
“I didn’t find her,” Corrado muttered against his skin. “I didn’t seek her out—she just was, and I didn’t get a choice, either. You don’t want this to change, and I get it, Les. You get too close, you give a shit, and then what happens, huh? It’s someone else that can leave you, right?”
“Fuck you,” Alessio mumbled.
Fuck him for knowing.
For being right.
For doing all of this.
It wasn’t fair.
“It’s like you fucking tricked me, like you manipulated me,” Alessio said, his voice a rumble under the noise of the shower. “This is what you wanted, right?”
“I did nothing. I let shit happen.”
“No, you did.”
“Les—”
“That’s what it seems like, Corrado. And it makes it harder, it makes this worse.”
“Why would I do that to someone I lov—”
Alessio turned his head fast, his lips crashing against Corrado’s. He still wasn’t ready for those words, still didn’t want to hear them, not when he was trying to deal with everything else too. It made it more difficult, because part of him wanted that more than anything, he wanted those words for so long, and now, Corrado needed to say them, too.
But all it took was that kiss, the hard work of their lips moving against one another’s, and they lost the words. Oh, the anger was still there, visceral and vicious. Tinging every swipe of his lips against Corrado’s. That anger colored the roughness in Corrado’s hands when they slid down the sleeves of tattoos on Alessio’s arms.
Still, it was a background thought.
Fading away with the flavor of Corrado when Alessio’s tongue teased the seam of his lips. He had far more he wanted to say, all those warring emotions battling for a presence, but he didn’t want to feel anything at all.
Instead, he found somewhere else to go—a better place to be. He found it in the wet clothing covering Corrado’s hard lines as he crowded closer to Alessio. He reveled in letting the anger drift away when a firm grip found his cock and stroked him fast. Teeth cut into his lower lip, giving him a shock of pain with the hot licks of pleasure climbing his spine with every pull of Corrado’s hand along his length.
It’d been too long.
Hell, he hadn’t even touched himself in weeks.
Too caught up in their shit, this mess, and everything else. Sex came secondary, and he didn’t care for the release when it would only be fucking empty. And yet, he was begging for it, now. Craving it, so bad.
“Jesus Christ,” he growled against Corrado’s kiss.
That palm on his dick tightened.
God, yeah.
“Let me say it,” Corrado murmured, “just fucking let me say it, Les.”
“Shut up.”
“Stop using that to punish me.”
Never once did Corrado’s hand slow. Those strokes came faster, and the next kiss bruised. It’s what Alessio needed, what he wanted more than anything, and when he came ... fuck, it ached as much as it relieved. His semen spilled between them, hitting the tiles just long enough for the water to wash it all away. A broken sound tore from his chest, breathless and harsh, as Corrado’s hand slowed but his fingers tightened at the same time.
Corrado’s gaze lifted to meet his, but Alessio was already turning his head to look away again. Now, they had switched places, he thought. It wasn’t him that wanted something from Corrado that his lover wouldn’t give.
The shoe was on the other foot.
He didn’t mean for it to punish; love wouldn’t hurt anymore.
Corrado released his hold on Alessio, his palm coming up to snap hard against the tiles of the shower when he still wouldn’t return his stare.
He couldn’t.