Mixed Up

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The two young men in the beginning of their twenties left the club’s mixed seats section, where crowds were not segregated, still talking animatedly about the football game. Walking among the masses that dispersed after the match, the two slender men, with delicate features, attracted many feminine looks. Few masculine looks too. However, they were oblivious to everything, so focused on each other that the rest of the world was just a blur.

The tallest blond, Lucian, wore a red T-shirt over pink-orange jeans, hands in his pockets, lids half-closed over his green eyes and a mischievous smile on his face. He leaned toward his companion, listening intently to what he said, laughing occasionally or adding sarcastic comments, his slick hair falling in front of his face like a curtain, living only Brendon’s figure filling his field of vision.

Direct and excited, Brendon led the conversation with large gestures. He was dressed in the blue uniform of the opposing club, his big black eyes wide open, as if he were watching in front of his eyes the scene he was describing with enthusiasm. His irises were so dark that his pupils were barely visible. His spiky hair was also black, in contrast to the extremely fair skin.

They had met a week earlier, at Cafe Crescent. There they discovered Brendon had just been admitted into the same psychology course that Lucian had been attending for a year. They were unable to stop talking until they had to split up after the Cafe was closed, taking a little longer, changing their contacts.

Lucian was looking forward to seeing Brendon again and thought the football match would be a fun place to get to know him better. He called his good old friend, with whom he had scheduled to go to the game. Telling what was going on, he offered to buy his ticket. The friend, who cared very much for him, was thrilled to learn that he was showing interest in someone. With the candor that only good friends share, he said that although Lucian always posed as cool, he was too insecure and shy when it came to relationships, especially the romantic type. And, therefore, a football stadium was not the best place for a meeting.

“I don’t want to create expectations for a romantic date.” A public, controlled environment can be the best. I’m not even sure how I’m going to feel when I meet him again, “Lucian explained.

Then, his friend agreed to donate the precious ticket on the condition that, as payment, Lucian had to “relax and move on”. Lucian replied that he would do as he pleased. The friend retorted that if he were always so demanding, he would end up like a lone auntie, surrounded only by cats.

Lucian immediately called Brendon. He simply said he had a spare ticket and invited him to the game.

Brendon immediately accepted. However, realizing that it had been too easy, he commented on how much he wanted to go to that match and how lucky he was to be invited since the tickets were sold out. Only then, he wandered if Lucian supported the other team. Brendon asked which section they were going to. Lucian did indeed root for the other team, but the tickets were for the mixed crowd section. Silently, he sighed with relief, he wouldn’t need to wear the colors of the opposing team. After they hung up, he hurried to post to his group of football fans that he had a ticket left over to pass on.

Thinking about Lucian cheering for the other team, Brendon soon had a lascivious idea.

After the match, moving away from the stadium, Brendon was in a very good mood because his team had won. He took every opportunity to provoke Lucian, bringing up the subject again and again. The supporter of the red team pretended to be angry and responded by ruffling Brendon’s hair, shooing him off and slapping his buttocks. Under the club’s blue uniform, there were lean, firm muscles, a pleasure to look at and touch. Lucian was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his hands away, always putting them firmly in his pockets.

Coquettish Brendon turned to the window of a parked car to rearrange his carefully messy hair. Concealed, he checked the other young man’s reflection and amused himself. The tall blonde was looking at him with a wolf smile, almost drooling.

A drizzle started to fall and Brendon sang:

—Raindrops keep falling on my head…

He stretched his arms over his head, palms up as if trying to catch those raindrops while doing pirouettes. Lucian chased after him trying to grab his waist, his hands freed again from the pocket prisons, but Brendon dodged smartly until they both had to bend over panting and laughing.

“You have a swing!” Lucian said breathlessly.

“Ah, I attended ballet classes,” Brendon replied nonchalantly.


Lucian’s mind was taken with the image of the black-haired boy in a completely pink ballerina outfit, from the tutu to the pointe shoes with ribbon straps, making feminine movements. He shook his head, finding the idea a little fun and very exciting.

“Yeah, I know,” the other replied deflated, escort bayan gaziantep mistaking the reason for Lucian’s reaction.

Brendon’s smile had faded and he walked with his hands behind his back.

Lucian felt guilty. Wanting to encourage the other, he tried to provoke:

“You must have met a lot of handsome men back then.”

Only when he had finished speaking did he notice where that comment came from: a fit of green, burning jealousy. He looked sideways to see what would appear on the younger man’s features.

“Oh yeah! Many!” Brendon had regained his luster. “The Nutcracker, Rothbart, and even a male black swan, not to mention several princes …” This time, he was not mistaken about what Lucian was feeling. “What do you think? Ballet dancers practice a lot. There’s no time for orgies.”

Brendon continued, seriously:

“My best friend was a ballet dancer so good that he became a professional. Only, his father never accepted, even punched him in the face once. This is how it happens with prejudice, there is nothing to gain, but much to lose.”

Finally, they reached the parking lot where Lucian had left the car. It was already dark and the open space was deserted. The asphalt, wet from the light rain that came and went all day, reflected the orange lights of the high poles scattered among the parked cars. Lucian felt it was beautiful, listening to Brendon’s voice filling the space like a warm flow, still talking about prejudice.

Lucian’s tingling feeling about Brendon had grown to a desire that was hard to ignore. He warned himself, again, not to act impulsively. He needed to take things slowly if he wanted to avoid getting hurt. He closed his eyes. Something about the younger man appealed deeply to what he struggled so hard to control. However, it also made him feel tender and caring. He could definitely fall in love with this witty young man.

Since his eyes were closed, Lucian didn’t see the subtle vibration that touched Brendon’s black lashes when he heard Lucian sigh.

They reached the car. Lucian was fishing for the key in his pocket, still listening to what Brendon was saying.

“In my view, hooligans are just repressed fags who want an excuse to touch other men.”

He leaned against the car, looking directly into Lucian’s eyes. Without changing his casual tone, he added:

“On the other hand, as open and reasonable gay men, we can simply agree among ourselves that the one whose team has won has the right to fuck the other.”

Brendon, let the silence fall while, smiling, he waited for Lucian to realize the meaning of what he had said. The blonde stood there frozen, eyes wide. When Brendon heard the sound of the car key falling to the floor, that tall, lean body was pressing him against the car.

“Do you want to fuck me?” The tall blond’s voice was a low growl.

After all, the blue team had won the score.

Although Lucian could feel the body underneath trembling against his, Brendon’s voice was calm, even mild, yet provocative:

“Yes, a lot.”

With his fingertips, Brendon placed a lock of Lucian’s hair behind his ear, making the gesture become a caress, in stark contrast to the other’s harshness.

Their breaths mixing heavily in the small space that separated their mouths, Lucian plunged hard over those tempting lips, parting them with his tongue, unrestrained. A voice in Lucian’s head recalled the resolution to go slow, but it was completely obstructed by the feelings provoked by Brendon’s hands pulling on the back of his neck, wishing for more. One of Brendon’s legs went up to Lucian’s back waist and twisted over Lucian’s buttocks, trapping him, pulling him into an even tighter embrace where their pelvis met.

Lucian grabbed the young ballet dancer’s buttocks and pulled him up. Understanding what he wanted, with a small light jump, Brendon raised his other leg and crossed his ankles on Lucian’s back.

Lucian pressed Brendon firmly against the car, the two men rubbing themselves as their lips and tongues continued to rotate together. Lucian’s desire grew so much that he needed to touch the shaft that was shaking and pressing against his belly. He tried to pull his chest away, but Brendon bit and sucked hard on his bottom lip, preventing him from breaking the kiss.

As if in a fury, Lucian grabbed the back of his neck by the hair and held it while he separated himself enough to place his other hand in the space between them. He undid Brendon’s shorts lace and, sliding into the blue team’s shorts, lightly stroked the glans, then continued to slide over the swollen limb, brushing his fingertips like a blind man who wants to know a precious object by heart. Finally, he took the balls in his palm, extending a finger to the ass, pressing and massaging.

Brendon’s head tilted back, leaning against the roof of the car, and his arms left Lucian’s neck and fell limp beside his body. When Brendon’s legs started to sag as well, Lucian put his other arm around the smaller man’s waist, supporting him as he slowly slid to the floor. He sat in the Indian style, with Brendon’s limp body in his lap, face to face, legs around Lucian’s waist, back against the car.

During the maneuver, he did not let go of Brendon’s member or look away from the other’s face. As his position gave him more space, Lucian tightened his grip and moved his finger with more pressure, making Brendon moan harder.

“Stop,” Brendon asked breathlessly, but the other seemed not to have heard.

Brendon managed to hold the other man’s wrist over his belly with both hands and pulled:

“Stop! Stop, please.”

Lucian froze immediately, making such an effort to remove his hand that his arm was shaking.

“He’s going to run,” thought Lucian. “What was I thinking? Why couldn’t I treat him with the respect and tenderness he deserves? He’s going to leave me here and now, and I’m the only one to blame.”

Brendon raised Lucian’s hand to the level of his face. Turning his palm to him, he slowly reached out with his tongue, licking Lucian’s fingertips, wrapping it in his mouth and suck on his index and middle fingers. Groans escaped Lucian’s throat just by watching, with wide eyes, his fingers disappear on Brendon’s lips, feeling his hot, moist tongue wrap around them.

Brendon pulled Lucian’s wrist closer with both hands, took a deep breath and swallowed both fingers, deep in his throat, just to show off. Without breaking eye contact, he made Lucian’s fingers slide up and down through the damp and hot tunnel while making swallowing movements that massaged them, his Adam’s apple swinging up and down. He then pulled them out and took a deep breath, panting. He inspected his work, lots of saliva dripping all over Lucian’s hand.

With a smile that radiated in his eyes, he commented with a wink, his voice a little hoarse:

“Better now, isn’t it?”

Lucian looked at the dripping hand frozen in the air, as if it were not his, and again at the shiny, wet mouth that had just swallowed his fingers, those dark, smiling eyes. He realized he was gaping.

“You need …” His tone was very tense, Lucian started again, softer “You need a safe word.”

“Why?” Brendon asked, tilting his head.

“Then you can ask me to stop without saying ‘stop’.

Brendon gently pushed the wrist that still hovered between them, with a quick and graceful movement he placed Lucian’s hand inside his clothes and straddled the palm.

“What do you suggest, then?”

Lucian’s ability to think completely abandoned him.

“Red? red is a common word for this.”

Adjusting himself with a sigh over the hand that was beginning to feel him again, as if by itself, now more lubricated, he grabbed Lucian’s shirt and pouted.

“But I like red,” he said in a tearful voice.

Pulling on Lucian’s shirt, he approached his ear, touching Lucian’s earlobe with his lips, and added in a hoarse tone:

“For example, I can say, red lost today, red must submit to blue … ouch!”

He groaned because Lucian’s fingers entered forcefully into his butthole with a jerk when he teased again.

Gripping Brendon’s waist tightly with his free arm, Lucian lowered his head against Brendon’s chest and rubbed himself like an animal, inhaling deeply the musky scent of his arousal.

“Safeword. Now.”

Brendon couldn’t help moving in slow circles. Forward, rubbing the stick on Lucian’s belly, backward burying those fingers inside. He looked around desperately seeking inspiration.

“Parking! Our safe word is parking! But…”

“But what?” It was more an impatient, muffled growl than words.

“What if I want to say ‘go on, don’t stop, more’, without saying that?”

Brendon’s movement was accelerating and Lucian’s fingers were moving in and out more easily and deeply.

Lucian looked up to meet those big black eyes, his voice was even more hoarse, but in a soft, tender tone.

“Then you say ‘stop’.”

Smiling, Brendon rested his arms on Lucian’s shoulders, running his fingers lovingly through his hair. He tilted his head forward until their foreheads met and whispered:

“Than stop. Please, stop.”

The arm around Brendon’s waist tightened and pulled him while the fingers inside him pushed to the base. He gasped in pain, surprise, and pleasure, his head bobbing backward hitting the car. Those invading fingers started pumping into his hole. With his eyes closed, he felt a mouth licking, nibbling and biting his chest over his blue shirt.

After a while, Lucian’s fingers felt the ring around them pulsing. He withdrew his hand. Gently, but firmly, he pushed the other’s body to the floor. In the same movement, rolling Brendon onto his stomach.

In the quiet parking lot, where only their panting could be heard, the sound of the zipper opening cut through the night. Brendon propped himself up on one elbow, half-turned to see the blond beauty kneeling behind him, between his legs, his face hidden by strands of hair and shadows, pulling the straight stick out of his pants.

Lucian spat in his hand and rubbed the entire body of his cock. Still holding his cock with one hand, as if he were aiming at the sensitive parts below, his free hand pulled the hem of Brendon’s shorts exposing the white marble round buttocks. Lucian leaned forward, supporting the weight with his free hand, half lying on the man’s thigh below, with his face still covered by the undone shiny blond hair. That prick fumbled through the firm, round buttocks until it found the soft hole. Then, with a shiver, Lucian froze.

Seeing this, Brendon said with a smile in a soft voice


Lucian raised his head.

“What?” Eyes unfocused, as if suspended in a trance.

“Stop, please!” Brendon’s voice was choked with anticipation.

With a sigh, Lucian closed his eyes, focusing all his attention on only one part of his body and slowly rolled the weight to the center. The head of his rod entered.

Lucian looked down, still holding his member firmly, and pulled it out. Then again. Out. Inside.

Brendon, still looking at Lucian, could only compare him to a boy with a new toy. And the new toy was him. That thought gave him a tingling sensation that sent waves of pleasure through all of his muscles, including the tight ones around Lucian.

Feeling the tremor around his cock, Lucian stopped plucking Brendon’s entrance and, in a hard movement, inserted everything until his belly hit the other’s buttocks. Brendon cried out in pain and surprise.

Lucian, buried inside, asked worriedly:

“Did I hurt you? Does it hurt?”

“Of course you fucking hurt me.” Brendon’s voice sounded angry. “It hurts a lot!

Lucian hesitated for an instant, in a powerful but brief internal conflict. There was never any doubt about which part of him would win. He started pounding Brendon without mercy.

“If I’m your little toy,” Brendon thought with satisfaction, “you’re mine. Play along, my little toy! ” He crossed his arms in front of him on the asphalt and rested his head, letting the mixed feelings of pleasure and pain flow.

“Do. I. Hurt. You?” Lucian’s breathless voice, low and vibrant, came out a word at each thrash.

“Yesss!,” Brendon replied, smiling. “Yes, yes, please!”

Lucian snarled and forced everything when he came. He lost the ability to support his own weight and gave in over Brendon, seeming only half-conscious.

Carefully, Brendon rolled over, making Lucian slide over him, trying to protect, in the best possible way, the other’s lethargic body from hitting the asphalt hard. He got up, having found the car keys, and opened the back door.

Brendon began to lift Lucian gently, encouraging in a soft voice:

“Okay, grab my shoulder and help me out a bit, okay?” He managed to get the limp man to sit on the pavement.

Clumsy, Lucian tried to get up, but his legs were wobbly.

“No, no, not like that, just lean on me, okay? Here, up and go.”

Lucian felt that he was being placed, face-up, in the back seat of the car, with his legs out the door. Brendon started pulling out Lucian’s pants.

“No!” Lucian raised his arm as he tried to hold Brendon.

But Brendon was out of his reach and had his own agenda. He wanted to act before the other regained his senses.

The long legs were bare. Brendon crawled over Lucian, who asked:

“No, don’t do that” trying to focus while fighting the torpor to take control.

With his knees between Lucian’s legs and his torso tilted, the spears touching each other, Brendon brought his mouth close to Lucian’s ear and whispered provocatively:

“Our safe word is still in effect.”

He licked Lucian’s ear, thrusting the tip of his tongue into the small hole and sucked on his earlobe.

Satisfied that he had given Lucian enough time to voice the safeword, he put his arms under the knees of the lying man and pulled them onto his shoulders. He spat on the fingers of his right hand and placed it over Lucian’s hole.

“You don’t understand,” Lucian said, “It’s not that I don’t … It’s just that I’ve never… never…”

“Ah!” Brendon’s face lit up. “Am I going to be the first one down here?”

One finger was forcing the passage, one millimeter at a time. Lucian took a deep breath and didn’t answer, he just closed his eyes and frowned, turning his face to the back of the seat.

“Relax, okay? Don’t worry, I will be very kind… If you behave.”

Tears streamed from Lucian’s eyes.

“Hey, what is that?” Said Brendon, unmoved by the other’s man cry. “There’s a prize waiting for you. There’s nothing like it. I know it’s scary to get out of your comfort zone, but I guarantee you will like it. And I know you want to.”

Lucian’s voice was harsh, a sensation of burning pain radiated from the base of his body upwards, his face also burning with shame.

“Do you…?”

“What? Yes, I’m sure you want to.”

No… I mean, do you want me? Like this. You already had me … in the other way, but … do you want this?”

Brendon released one of Lucian’s legs and settled beside him in the tight space on the back seat.

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