Our Summer Rhapsody - 3. "Hand In Glove"

Oliver's beating chest rested pressed into Niko's back as they descended a narrow, dark road. A part of town Oliver, despite having been on that island so many summers before, had never set foot in. The pavements weren't unadorned either or simple-surfaced. They were made of granite, thick, cube-shaped stones placed together like a fine tapestry, which made the scooter tremble as it rode over them. Oliver's eyes were closed, his arms wrapped around the green-eyed stud, and his heart felt whole.

He had just escaped the hotel, his family, and everything he knew and now drove down the seaside with seemingly no destination, which mattered very little to him at this point. All he could think about was tasting Niko's lips again. He could feel his hard cock inflate and press against the stud's crack, and it wasn't long before Niko began to slow down the scooter to a stop. He stretched his legs, drilling his feet into the cobbled ground, and pulled off his helmet, unleashing his beautifully thick, luscious raven, curled hair. Oliver followed suit, begrudgingly towed his arms away from Niko's waist, and removed his helmet off his head. He let the helmet drop along the side of his body and just sat there, slightly taken aback by how Niko seemed frozen, only his upper body moving ever so slightly as he breathed.

Oliver knew he was young, inexperienced, and even naive. But he also knew that whatever he felt for Niko was different than anything he had ever felt until now. It was unconventional, compelling, and dangerously unique. The boy smiled and let his head fall over Niko's back as he exhaled. He could feel the stud's heartbeat and his body tensing up as if holding back for some reason. Oliver slid down, his feet softly touching the pavement, and he raised his left leg, dismounting the motorcycle and hanging the helmet on one of the brake handles. Then, he walked over to a stone bench just a few feet from where they stood. As he neared it, Oliver realized Niko had parked on a particularly secluded viewpoint that framed the most stunning view of the island. As he looked down, the boy could see the lights of the central courtyard flickering and the muffled buzzing voices of the town's fair in the distance. He looked back at the stud and smiled. And that's when it happened. Niko's face lit up, and he smiled back, finally sliding off the scooter and slowly walking over to the blonde beauty.

"It's beautiful. So peaceful." Oliver said as he sat down on the stone bench.

"I figured you'd like it," Niko replied, sitting beside him.

They remained there for a few minutes with nothing to say and little to do but enjoy each other's presence. This time, without anyone to intervene or interrupt. And as they did, Oliver's heart began to beat rapidly, like a wild horse galloping along an open meadow.

"Are you regretting coming already?" Niko stated, his words dancing between playfulness and trepidation. Oliver shook his head slowly from side to side before their gaze became hostage to another silence. Yet inside it, so much was being said.

"Niko...?" Oliver stuttered.

"Yeah?" the stud replied, his green eyes sparkling like two emerald jewels beneath the moonlight.

Can I kiss you again?" the boy whispered, his voice trembling nervously. They were the most ingratiating words Niko had ever heard. He chuckled softly, his body facing Oliver.

"You better," the stud teased, propelling Oliver to lunge sideways. His mouth opened, ready to find Niko's lips.

Soon, their jaws were melting into each other again. Oliver immediately noticed how familiar Niko's mouth felt, like a favorite movie or one of those books you could read repeatedly. But his body was too eager, hungry for the stud's taste and feel, and he quickly found himself out of breath, pulling away. He lingered with his mouth inches from Niko's, breathing heavily as his gust spewed into the stud's mouth.

"I'm sorry..." the boy stammered. "I'm kinda nervous," he admitted, surprised by the ease with which he seemed to express his feelings around the hunk. Was this Niko's accomplishing, the boy thought?

"It's okay. Relax," the stud directed. "There's no one around. And I'm not going anywhere," Niko declared. "Take your time," he stated as he brushed the back of Oliver's neck, the tip of his fingers tickling the soft, almost invisible blonde fuzz that layered it.

Oliver's lips stretched into a smile, and he leaned into Niko, his body now surrendering to the moment, his spirit beginning to let go. This time, Niko's tongue slid inside his mouth. It felt glorious as the stud showed gentleness and overwhelming care for how he held the boy's neck. Yet, his lips were sucking on Oliver's with bravado, and the blonde could sense Niko's heavy figure lean into him with a tamed dominance. Almost instinctively, Oliver lifted his body and swung his right leg over Niko's waist, saddling him. And he threw his arms around the stud's neck, locking him inside his embrace. Their breaths were now merging, gradually growing in intensity, and Niko's hands began to descend along Oliver's, down to his lower back. Oliver moaned, feeling the stud's massive cock grow under him, teasing his sensitive crack. And soon, Niko was releasing these low, guttural groans. To which Oliver responded by moaning submissively, a sound he almost didn't recognize coming deep from within his chest.

"You're so beautiful, Oliver," the hunk grunted inside the boy's mouth. "So bright...so pure..." he mumbled, inebriated by the blonde's virgin taste.

"I wanna touch it," Oliver uttered as he sucked on Niko's mouth. And before Niko could react or even answer, the boy's hand descended along the stud's chest, feeling every inch of his muscular physique as he slid his hand inside his pants.

He struggled briefly, trying to squeeze his fingers between the mass of fabric and meat inside it. But eventually, Oliver's hand grasped Niko's shaft, pulling it gently and finally releasing it from its entanglement. His smooth, slender fingers were now in complete control of it, most of the cock still hidden inside Niko's shorts, with only the mushroom tip head sticking out. Oliver's mouth rescinded from the stud's lips inadvertently as his eyes attempted to glance down at it, flaring with excitement and surprise. He immediately felt a wave of musk exuding from Niko's crotch, followed by a bleach-scented fragrance. And having spent countless hours jerking off on his own, Oliver was pretty confident in assuming what that was.

"You got me leaking like a fucking teenager," Niko joked, chuckling. He had a smile that ran from one ear to the other.

Oliver smirked, feeling proud and pleased by his accomplishment. And because he had been trained and pushed his whole life to excel at everything he did, Oliver kept going, determined to give Niko what he knew the stud wanted. His hand started stroking the stud's dick, the thick foreskin gliding up and down as he did. The precum stored under it began to glide down, spewing over Oliver's hand and wrist. Sensing this, the boy stopped to look down again. He took his thumb and brushed it against the tip of Niko's cock, sticking it inside his prepuce and drenching his finger with the stud's translucid juice. He brought his hand up and stuffed it in his mouth without a pause. Niko's eyes followed him, beaming with adulation.

"You're definitely not a prep boy," he quipped, proud that he had clocked the boy's true nature lingering underneath his sheltered upbringing.

Oliver smiled, his thumb shoved inside his mouth as he sucked on it greedily. Then, he slowly glanced around, making sure nobody was coming or going, smiling as he realized the stud had strategically chosen their location, hoping they would finally be allowed to indulge. And Oliver did. Oh, he did.

The boy placed his hands on the stud's chest and pulled back, his body sliding down into the ground, where he kneeled smack between Niko's legs. He lingered there for a couple of seconds, his breath slow and steady as he gazed at the hunk's massive cock eagerly waiting to be revered. Oliver grabbed the waistband on Niko's shorts and pulled them down, forcing the stud to lift his muscular ass, easing it off. As his ass fell back on the cold, stone bench, his cock slingshotted before Oliver's face, the boy's blue eyes twinkling with delight. It exuded the most potent, most disturbingly pleasing aroma. Forbidden, dangerous, new, exciting, and utterly inescapable.

"Oliver..." Niko muttered, a small, almost invisible part of himself still holding back, afraid to let the boy indulge in the lustful energy that brewed between them.

"Just be quiet," Oliver ordered as his eyes stared at Niko's pulsating 10-inch dick. His voice was cutting, bottled with determination, giving the stud the push he needed to let go finally. Oliver leaned forward and licked the bloated tip of the hunk's cock, skating over the perineal gland, causing Niko's body to shiver slightly.

"Oh, fuck..." the stud whispered, his head leaning back. He instinctively raised his hands, covering his face as if a part of him couldn't quite believe what was happening. But he could feel it.

"It's salty," Oliver commented almost to himself, his eyes lingering in an aloof state, his senses studying every new feeling. He went back in and licked it again, but this time, he stayed there, his tongue gliding from side to side as his nose rested next to the stud's veiny shaft, taking in its rich fragrance. "Your smell," he added, his turquoise eyes rolling back as he sniffed it. As he did, he let his head fall, his tongue running along the cock's base as he dove his nose inside Niko's thick bush. "Fuck..." he moaned, finally forcing the hunk's hands to come down, exposing his face, wreaking with desire. Oliver's lips stretched into a smirk, conveying a request for consent.

"Do it," Niko finally conceded.

And just like that, the last layer of self-awareness and boundaries between them were brought down. Oliver's right hand pulled the skin back, and he dove, mouth opened, into Niko's cock. Even though, internally, it felt rushed, his movements were, in fact, slow and precise. He began to test his jaw's threshold, allowing it to open enough to swallow about 4 inches before his lips closed around it, tongue hugging Niko's stretched foreskin. He immediately felt his throat close and came up abruptly, still trying to keep his lovely, pink lips glued to it. He coughed, chuckling softly.

"Shit," Oliver uttered, giggling. His voice had an endearing nervousness while still denouncing an uncontrollable eagerness.

Niko's emerald eyes stared at him, mesmerized.

"Do you wanna stop?" the hunk teased. Oliver's eyes swang up, and he frowned.

"Fuck no." He fired back, almost insulted by Niko's suggestion. He stretched his arm and pushed the stud's chest, forcing his back against the stone bench. Then he dove back in.

This time, he slid his mouth further in, feeling the hunk's mammoth dick force every muscle inside his mouth to widen. But as his throat began to close again, he unfurled his nostrils and released all the compressed air in his lungs. Suddenly, he felt his whole body relax into Niko's lap, and he moaned. When he did, he heard the stud groan with satisfaction.

"That's it. That's it..." the stud rasped, his voice becoming guttural, sliding slightly off his usual tender tone.

Oliver began to settle into a rhythm, closing his lips and tongue around Niko's dick as he pulled up. He would pull out, escorting a popping sound with his movement, only to dive back inside, repeating the motion. There was an impishness to Oliver's every action, a dance of playful exploration around the stud's massive shaft, like a newly unwrapped present that needed to be tested and played with. Oliver's confidence kicked in as he went on, gliding his mouth up and down Niko's engorged beast like a seasoned pro. Niko could feel the inside of the boy's mouth close in around him, his soft tongue polishing every inch of him with his spit.

"Damn, Oliver...you've done this before?" Niko playfully teased, his hands now hovering inches beside Oliver's head, fighting the urge to grab his beautiful blonde curls and ram his whole dick inside his irresistible warm mouth.

"I'm just a fast learner," Oliver jested as he pulled back, a loud gasp firing from his mouth. He kneeled there, his right hand stroking Niko's cock, his pink velvety lips now bloated and his pale skin flushed red.

"You're gonna make me cum, if you keep doing that," Niko warned, glancing down at Oliver's hand, ferociously beating his meat.

The boy smirked and leaned forward, swallowing the hunk now slobbering monster. Niko gasped inwardly, overwhelmed by the sensation of the boy's hospitable mug and how it effortlessly glid inside this time. Soon, his cock was being savagely sucked under the attentive care of the boy's tender lips and tongue. Niko's hands, coasting inches from Oliver's head up until now, finally closed, and his fingers slid inside the boy's blonde hair, gripping it.

But to his surprise, he didn't force the boy's throat further down as he had done with many of the girls he dated. He just held his head and let Oliver's body define the pace, respectful and mindful of the boy's boundaries. Either way, it didn't matter because what Oliver was already doing felt leagues away from anything he had ever done. It was as if the boy's lips were made to fit his hard dick. And as he stared down, locking his gaze with Oliver's, Niko smiled. He could feel that familiar surge of heat burning inside his abdomen. He began to push his pelvis up slightly, and as he did, he noticed the shift in the boy's eyes. They were turning blood red, the strain of that extra inch showing. Niko gripped the blonde's hair tighter and attempted to pull away, but, to his surprise, Oliver refused. The boy's fingernails drilled into the stud's thighs, and he released a muffled moan. Almost angry.

"You're stunning..." Niko stuttered, his breath hectic and disorganized as he gently shoved his cock inside Oliver's mouth, his fingers clutching and locking the boy's head in place. All the while, gazing at the boy's blue reddened deep lake, feeling himself being submerged in it. "I'm..." he stammered as his thrusts became faster. "I'm gonna come in your mouth..." he warned. "Oliver, pull back...fuck..." he insisted. But it was too late.

Two twitches in, and he felt the first wave of batter fire inside Oliver's throat, the boy's lips stretched thin around his cock. He could feel the blonde's neck jerking back as he gagged on the thick strings that splattered inside. They wrestled between compliance, eagerness, and pure joy—a confusing mix of feelings that seemed to force everything around them to phase out and become blurred. Niko's body began to tremble, his orgasm now descending into a shivering landing. He began to chuckle and giggle, watching Oliver's adam's apple bone slide up and down as he ingested the most massive nut Niko had ever busted.

Moments later, he felt Oliver pull away, lips still struggling to let go. Sensing this, the hunk unlocked his fingers from the boy's hair, watching as he begrudgingly pulled away. Oliver fell back, puffing.

"That was fucking insane. I don't think I ever came that hard," Niko commented, pulling his raven curls back and brushing off his forehead's sweat. But as he locked eyes on Oliver, he paused. The boy just sat there, staring at him. "Are you okay? Are you weirded out?" the hunk asked, a gripped tone in his voice. "Say something," he added.

"I'm fine," Oliver replied with an unsettling dryness. His mind seemed elsewhere, mowing over something. It felt like an endlessly painful silence before he finally raised his eyes and gazed at Niko's bewildered expression. "Niko...?" the boy stuttered.

"Yeah?" the hunk questioned, leaning forward.

"How long do you think...you know...before I can try that again?" Oliver asked.

Niko's rampant laughter exploded around the viewpoint, its joyful potency traveling across the deserted street.

"Jesus Christ, Oliver!" the hunk hollered in between giggles and chuckles of delight. He clumsily pulled his shorts up and brought his shirt down. "Come here," he called.

Oliver smiled, brushed his hand over his mouth, and stood up. He walked over to Niko and saddled him again. The stud was still giggling slightly, captivated by Oliver's nonchalant demeanor about what had just happened. But mostly, he seemed fascinated by what he was beginning to see reflected inside the boy's turquoise gaze: a sense of belonging, peace, and overwhelming serenity. Something he had never felt before about anyone.

"I want to see the inside of your room," Oliver proposed, the blonde's words dragging Niko out of his momentary stupor.

"I...don't think that's a good idea," the stud framed.

"Why?" Oliver insisted.

"Do you have any idea what would happen to me? Your dad would probably call the cops and have me arrested," Niko playfully mocked, although deep down, he knew that his scenario was, at the very least, plausible.

"I'm eighteen. He can't do shit," the boy sneered, nudging his hips into Niko and teasing his cock, which hadn't softened that much since he'd come.

"You're not sleeping in my house, Oliver," Niko begrudgingly declined, even though every inch of his dick disagreed. And he already struggled to kick the images of him fucking Oliver's beautiful virgin ass out of his mind.

"Why did you show up at the hotel, then?" Oliver fired back, pulling away, annoyed.

"I just...had to see you," Niko stuttered, shocked that the words had fled his mouth. He had never been that candid with anyone. Let alone someone he had just met.

Oliver sat there, his crack rubbing against Niko's hard cock, eyes squinting.

"You like me," the boy said, his flushed face and pink lips slowly stretching into a smile.

"No, I don't..." Niko replied his words the polar opposite of what his expression and body language exuded. His eyes sparkled at Oliver's vulnerability, and his hands traveled slowly across the blonde's back, worshiping every inch of its softness, every second of the boy's presence.

"Oh, yes, you do!" the blonde insisted.

"I don't know anything about you," Niko teased.

"I could say the same thing about you," the boy countered. Niko beamed at Oliver's feistiness. He leaned back and took a deep breath, his eyes wandering in thought before they returned to the boy.

"Okay...so, let's play a game. I ask a question, and you ask a question. Rules are: we can't lie, and we can't refuse to answer," the stud challenged, raising one eyebrow in such a seductive way that Oliver felt compelled to concede.

"Fine," the boy agreed.

"You start," Niko suggested. Oliver's eyes suddenly fell into a lingering state as he pondered.

"What are you into?" the blonde asked, genuinely interested.

"You," Niko teased. He wasn't lying, though.

"C'mon, Niko. Be serious," Oliver responded, chuckling slightly.

"Fine. Hum...drawing, painting. I've been working on these stencils on leather, which I'm super proud of. But I have to hammer the sketch in, so I'm starting to get calluses," he explained, peeking at his palms. Oliver's eyes followed, and he held up Niko's right hand, turning his palm up. He stared at it briefly before touching it and brushing his lips against the bruising.

"I remember the drawings on the store. They were amazing," the boy remarked. "Okay, now you," he added excitedly.

"What are you into?" Niko volleyed.

"Reading. I read a lot," Oliver said. Niko's eyes sparkled as the boy seemed genuinely elated that someone was finally showing interest in his hobbies. "And I listen to music," he added.

"What's your favorite band?" Niko asked.

"Probably The Smiths," Oliver responded immediately.

"I knew it..." Niko whispered.

"What?" the boy replied, shrugging.

"On the outside, you're mainstream. But on the inside, you're punk rock," Niko explained as Oliver's eyes followed his lips. He appeared genuinely curious about everything Niko had to say. "Why do you like them?" the stud asked.

"I don't know...it's just..." Oliver stammered before pausing. "Their songs are layered. It takes a while to appreciate them fully. They're kinda like short stories," he continued. "And they weren't together very long, but their work was brutally impactful in the rock genre. People still copy them nowadays," he rambled as his voice grew in energy and excitement.

"You're so fucking cute. And smart..." Niko whispered, his whole being now bound to this beautiful boy he held in his arms, whose radiant light seemed to warm his heart and soul. He leaned in and kissed Oliver's lips softly. Then, he slowly took his lips to the boy's ear, singing gently into it.

"No, it's not like any other love
This one is different, because it's us
Hand in glove
We can go wherever we please
And everything depends upon
How near you stand to me."

As Niko chimed, he could feel the boy's heartbeat grow stronger, pushing through his soft skin. He pulled back to find Oliver smiling, his eyes glistening with emotion. Niko's cock was throbbing, and he could sense Oliver's hips making these understated, small movements as he tried to nudge his crack deeper into Niko's groin.

"Okay, my turn," the boy said, his voice still trembling slightly at the feeling of Niko's deep breath singing in his ear. "The girl in your room the other night...she's your girlfriend, right?" Oliver questioned, propelling Niko to struggle. He knew he couldn't lie. Not to Oliver.

"You can say that," the stud admitted.

"Hmm..." the blonde muttered as he felt his chest depleted of all the air inside. His vibrant body melted, and his chest collapsed, defeated.

"Hey, don't make that face," Niko begged, watching the sparkle inside Oliver's blue gaze dwindle. "Doesn't mean we can't have fun while you're here," he added, following Oliver's eyes, who seemed keen on avoiding his. But Niko persisted and finally cornered the boy's gaze with his, forcing them to meet again.

"I guess..." Oliver mumbled. He couldn't quite grasp what it was, but his chest tightened with dread and slight anger. Could he possibly be feeling jealous? He hardly knew Niko, yet he felt deeply connected to the youthful hunk like they had known each other their whole lives.

"Smile for me," Niko ordered softly. "You're too beautiful to be upset," he continued, slowly breaking the boy's shell, which seemed willing to close itself again. Oliver lifted his face and smiled. It felt contrived, but he was trying. "That's it..." the stud remarked, smiling back.

"What does ble mu poulí mean?" Oliver asked. His voice was soft, but his words felt cunning as Niko's eyes lifted in surprise. The stud's tongue seemed stuck, dumbfounded by the boy's question.

"What...?" Niko stammered.

"You keep saying ble mou poulí...what does it mean?" Oliver persisted, his whole body leaning into Niko, cunningly teasing the answer out of him.

Niko stared at Oliver, astounded. This young, inexperienced boy before him, whose privileged life would have undoubtedly turned anyone aloof and cynical, had somehow evaded his fate. Against all odds, he had developed into a gentle, compassionate, and emotionally astute young man. And Niko was beginning to understand that he might just be one of the few people in Oliver's life who appreciated that.

Niko wanted to answer. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to open his heart. But for some reason, he was choking. So he pulled Oliver in and kissed him, sliding his greedy tongue inside the boy's mouth, teasing him to join the stud's playful dance. Soon, they were wailing in unison, complete prisoners to each other's presence.

That is until a female voice broke from the alley behind them.

"Re Níko, ti gínetai?" the voice hollered, followed by giggling.

Oliver and Niko's bodies hurled sideways, their hands chaotically straightening their clothes as they tried to compose themselves. Oliver's lips and mouth were wholly soaked in Niko's spit.

"Geia sou, Amal." Niko stuttered, looking fidgety.

"Poios eínai aftós?" the girl questioned as she approached them. She was in the company of another girl and a young man around Niko's age.

"Aftós eínai o Óliver. Énas fílos apó tin Amerikí," Niko replied, visibly nervous. Oliver's eyes glanced discretely at the group. They all gaped at him, scanning him up and down with these expressions of contempt. "You should speak English, or he won't understand," Niko added. The way he said it made Oliver feel even more uncomfortable.

"Ah, yes. Oliver," Amal uttered, her piercing gaze looming over the blonde beauty.

"Nice to meet you," Oliver politely replied, smiling.

"Americanos always so friendly, yes?" Amal mocked, causing her two friends to laugh. "Niko love American. Den eínai étsi, karfí?" She provoked, purposely facing Niko's direction.

"You should practice your English, Amal. You sound ridiculous," Niko fired back, causing Amal's friends to chortle, which finally seemed to taw the girl's coldness.

"I joke. Nice meet you, Oliver. You boy that go underwater. Niko save you, yes?" she asked as she slowly walked over to the blonde, unceremoniously sitting next to him.

"Hum...yeah," Oliver mumbled nervously. While Amal continued to stare him up and down, her friends sat next to Niko, and the young man in the group took a rolled joint out of his pockets and lit it, immediately passing it to Niko. The stud took a giant hit and blew the smoke into the air, reclining back in his seat as he exhaled.

"You good looking," Amal commented. As it appeared to happen with most individuals around Oliver, she seemed to slowly become infected by the boy's effortless charm. "For boy, I mean," she teased, causing Oliver's lips to stretch into a reluctant smile. "We go party. You come, yes?" she proposed.

"No fucking way. I have to take Oliver back to his hotel," Niko immediately countered.

"Sure. I'll go," Oliver replied, turning his face directly at Amal, who smiled at him.

"I like you," she said, her eyes taunting Niko, who seemed visibly peeved by his friend's antics. But as the hunk's eyes turned to Oliver, all his reluctance suddenly faded, and his emerald eyes scintillated. "Americano is special boy, Niko?" Amal's voice uttered, popping the invisible bubble that seemed to be erected every time Niko and Oliver's eyes met. Her friends kept giggling in the back.

"Yes. Yes, he is," the hunk mumbled, almost as a thought, his and Oliver's gaze still locked as if nothing around existed.

"Come, come," Amal directed, bouncing off her seat and rushing for the main road to the town's main square.

Everyone stood up and started tracking her, passing around the joint as they slowly walked down the cobbled road. During their descent, taking advantage of every moment the group became distracted, Niko and Oliver's hands kept finding ways to meet in the dark, their fingers intertwined and lacing. They seemed unable to keep their bodies from not touching each other as if a single inch apart was already painfully unbearable. And despite their best efforts to keep their urges hidden, all attempts failed miserably, their connection now blatantly apparent to everyone in the group, who seemed keen on mischievously gossiping as they darted their eyes back at them periodically.

About ten minutes later, they arrived at the island's main square, and as they did, a powerfully vibrant, delightfully foreign tune began to erupt from the main stage just a few yards from where they stood.

"Óra gia choró, agapíste ta pouliá!" Amal hollered back as she and the other two ran down to the dance floor, disappearing inside the ocean of people around them.

Oliver's neck stretched over the crowd, curious. That's when he felt Niko's hand grab his.

"Come, let's do the Zorba," Niko invited, his green eyes twinkling.

"What's that?" Oliver questioned, mortified by the prospect of being invited to join.

"A traditional Greek dance," Niko replied.

"Fuck, Niko, no..." the blonde stuttered, his worst nightmare suddenly made real. But Niko was already dragging him across the hectic crowd by the time his words fled his mouth.

As they sprinted, the stud's hand pulling him, Oliver's heart began to race, his chest about to explode. But as they pierced through the larger mass of people, his eyes stumbled upon the massive stage. A band of about thirty musicians stood, instruments in hand, ferociously playing to a crazed dancefloor, bustling with sweaty bodies that moved like a bacchanalian swarm of bees in a faultlessly harmonized dance.

It wasn't long before Oliver's anxiety morphed into utter fascination, and while his mind still struggled to surrender, his body seemed convinced and willing to accept Niko's invitation.

"I don't think I..." he stammered.

"You'll love it. Come on!" the hunk interrupted, towing Oliver into the center of the circular-shaped tent.

They stumbled while Niko looked for an opening in the extensive string of people strutting, holding hands around the circle. As the music died down, slowly morphing into another piece, Niko pulled Oliver in, and they latched themselves to Amal and the group.

"Go, Americano!" Amal shouted, laughing as they jumped together. "It get faster!" she forewarned.

And it seemed she was right. The music, whose cadence had started slow, was gradually speeding up. And with it, the massive cord of people. It was the most exhilarating feeling Oliver had ever experienced, and as the music fastened to an almost frantic rhythm, his mind finally began to let go. His lips unleashed the most brilliant, vibrant smile. Hefty thumps started to echo, following the music, and soon time and space disappeared, with nothing but the sound of the drums pounding inside Oliver's body, making his whole being vibrate and pulse.

It felt like hours before the last blast of the snare drum's batter head sounded across the venue. By then, Oliver's body throbbed with life and rampant bliss.

"Nice job, Americano!" Amal hollered, her ecstatic voice pushing through the loud cackling of the crowd as the high energy still hovering around them slowly died down. Oliver felt Niko's hand slide inside his blouse and the stud's fingers brushing the soft skin on his lower back.

"I could fuck you right here...You're so sexy," Niko whispered into his ear, his deep voice and scorching breath making Oliver's cock tingle and his hole pucker. If given the chance, he would let him, Oliver thought.

But as he raised his head and smiled, his eyes glanced at Amal, who stared, eyes gaping at the other end of the dance floor. Oliver followed, noticing a familiar young woman standing near the tables, looking livid.

"Niko!...Aikaterini..." she warned, pointing her chin discretely at the young woman. Oliver immediately felt Niko's hand pull away from him.

"Fuck," the stud groaned, rushing off to meet the girl. Oliver stood motionless, suddenly remorseful.

"Not worry, Oliver. Niko handle," Amal appeased, sensing the boy's discomfort.

"Are you sure...?" Oliver replied uneasily. This prompted the group to giggle complicitly.

"Yes! Happen all the time," she carelessly joked, causing a wave of dread and uneasiness to rush through Oliver.

They dragged him away, his blue eyes still darting back, only able to catch Niko's muffled yet loud voice arguing with the young woman. Around them, nobody seemed to mind, which made the scene even more impactful. Soon, Amal pushed Oliver's stunned body into a chair and sat beside him. They ordered drinks, and a few minutes later, which from Oliver's stance certainly felt like hours, Niko finally returned. He signaled Amal to vacate her seat and dropped his heavy, sweaty body beside Oliver.

"Sorry about that," Niko apologized, breaking an awkward silence that had settled at the table.

"I didn't mean to get you into trouble with her. She seemed upset," Oliver stated. Even though he bore no responsibility for it, he showed compassion, which seemed to boost Niko's care for him even more. The stud's frame tilted sideways, and he turned his chair, body facing Oliver. His hands slid under the table and landed over Oliver's knees. The boy closed his eyes, a wave of ecstasy immediately rushing through like wildfire.

"She's a girl. They're always upset about something," Niko joked. "What the fuck are you doing over there?" He questioned, grabbing one of the legs on Oliver's chair and pulling it across the floor towards him. Oliver chuckled, his hands clutching the chair's arms so he wouldn't tip over. "That's better," Niko groaned as he dove inside Oliver's neck, sniffing his skin. Oliver trembled, every hair on his body prickling with eros. "You know, about what you asked earlier..." he whispered into the boy's skin.

"Yeah...?" Oliver muttered incoherently.

"I think I'm up for another round of that mouth. You?" the hunk suggested, every single word bottled with lust and desire.

"Sure..." Oliver whispered. He could feel his voice numbing to Niko's alluring touch and his whole body burning from the inside.

"Good...let's get the fuck out of here," the stud voiced vehemently.

"I need to pee," Oliver informed.

"Amal?" Niko questioned, spinning to face his friend. She turned her head, pausing her conversation, and pointed to the line of stalls just a few feet from the main stage. Oliver threw her a thankful smile.

"I'll be right back," he announced, rushing off.

He sprinted through the crowd, feeling his blatter tighten. He slid inside one of the stalls, glaring at its horribly pungent odor as he unzipped his pants. He let his soft, pink, precum-covered cock out and leaned his head back, groaning as he felt that satisfying feeling of taking a piss after holding it for hours. He jerked his dick around and stuffed it back inside his shorts, nudging the door open with his elbow, his face scowling at the thought of touching the dirty door with his bare hands. But as he stepped out and raised his head, he froze. The girlfriend, the young woman he had seen in Niko's house that first night, stood before him, sporting a blank stare.

"Hey..." Oliver uttered awkwardly. He immediately wished he had thought of something clever or eloquent to say, but it clearly wouldn't have mattered by the way she looked at him.

"Próseche, Americano..." she uttered. Her voice was shaky, and her eyes bloated. She had been crying. "You need be careful..." she muttered. Oliver could barely understand as she desperately tried translating her thoughts into a muddled English. "Niko, use you, like use me," she continued, visibly struggling to cage her tears.

"I'm sorry you're upset, but I really must go," Oliver politely reasoned, trying to avoid the embarrassing situation.

"Niko enjoy shiny, new toy. But he not like you. Niko only like Niko," she whimpered.

Even then, as he looked at her, Oliver felt empathy. He felt sorry for her and how she felt about herself. But despite it, his heart whispered differently. And once more, his mother's words came to his mind. He took a deep breath and lifted his chin proudly.

"I'm sorry you feel that way about him," he softly stated. "But I don't," Oliver replied, turning around and leaving.

As he walked back to the table, his legs trembled, yet he felt a boldness inside him that seemed to unfold and expand. Could this be what it felt like to grow up? Was this what the world was? An amalgamation of souls, constantly hurting and desperately seeking a remedy for their pain? Was love the answer to that? And was love worth such pain? He was so immersed in his thoughts he failed to notice he had stopped just inches from his chair. Niko sat, his emerald eyes suddenly darting at the stalls, forcing his soft expression to change. Aikaterini stood there, like a statue, as people rushed past her, her gaze firmly latched on Niko. The stud took a deep breath and glanced up at Oliver.

"I'll take you back to the hotel," he said, standing up, gently tugging the blonde's shirt with his fingers, and walking him out of the venue.

They wandered silently, climbing the steep, narrow road back to the viewpoint where the scooter was parked. Along the way, Niko would sometimes drag Oliver sideways and slam his body against the side walls, where darkness seemed to conceal them and kiss the blonde passionately. They would linger there, their bodies rubbing against each other like animals in heat, the fabric of their shorts frothing as their cocks rubbed against each other underneath. It was lecherous, primal even. Oliver felt blissfully lost in the world, with only the vibrancy of Niko's soul to guide him. As they reached the scooter, their clothes were crumpled, their hair disheveled, and their bodies completely tangled.

"I want to spend the day with you tomorrow," Oliver moaned into the stud's mouth as he sucked on his tender lips.

"Won't your family mind?" Niko replied while his entire body continued worshiping Oliver's, his hands running up and down the blonde.

"I don't care. Come pick me up," the boy whispered as he slid his hand inside Niko's pants, grabbing his giant uncut cock and stroking it, pulling down its foreskin and spilling the sheer, liquid precum over his hand.

"What time?" Niko groaned.

"8 am," Oliver muttered.

"Fine," Niko agreed. At this point, he would sleep on the sidewalk if Oliver asked.

They eventually detached from each other and saddled the scooter, their cocks sore. They were so out of it that they didn't even put on their helmets, which ended up helping as they enjoyed the evening breeze, dusting their faces and hair as Niko drove back to the hotel's driveway. Ten minutes later, Niko was slowing the motorcycle to a stop.

But, as with all dreams, one must wake up from them sooner or later.

Pacing inside the hotel's foyer, in plain view, was John. He looked eerily calm, considering. As Niko stumped his foot on the ground, Oliver slid out of the scooter, lingering beside it momentarily. He felt compelled to kiss Niko's lips one last time, but his father's presence was already causing his newfound sense of freedom to feel tainted.

As Oliver glanced back, his father was already walking in their direction.

"It's 3:30 in the morning," John stated coldly. But rather than match his father's energy, the boy remained silent. "Your mother wants to see you," John added, almost surgically—a desperate attempt to force Oliver to leave. The boy glanced back at Niko.

"It's okay. I'll see you tomorrow," the stud replied.

The boy nodded, his optimistic smile concealed from his father. He turned around and walked up the steps, disappearing behind the sliding doors. John patiently waited until his son's silhouette disappeared in the distance before he finally faced the stud.

"I didn't raise my son to live a mediocre life. And if he continues to pursue these...feelings for you, that's all he'll find. Mediocrity. You seem like a smart young man, Nikolaos, so I'm sure you know this," John stated, steering his speech like a business presentation.

"Maybe Oliver doesn't want the life you planned for him?" Niko fired back, his bold spirit pushing through.

"Don't be ridiculous, boy," John countered, chuckling condescendingly. "I dedicated years to shaping and molding Oliver into the man I intended him to be. He will get married. He will have children. And he will carry on the family business. None of those plans include you, Greece, or this island, for that matter," he added with callous ruthlessness.

"You speak about him like he's a commodity, a trophy," Niko said, his voice losing strength. "I always thought a good parent would want his child to be happy..." he uttered, his eyes facing John's. Inside then, however, he saw nothing but pride and egotism.

"He'll grow out of it. And he'll eventually learn, as we all do, that happiness is overrated," John said.

"Mr. Preston..." the stud stuttered. John's lack of humanity was overwhelming, even for someone as hopeful as Niko.

"I'm trying to be polite, Nikolaos. But if it makes it easier for you to understand just how serious I am, I'll say this in a manner that suits your kind: stay the fuck away from my son. You will not contact, look for, or speak to him again. If you do, I'll ensure life gets tough for you and your family. Do I make myself clear?" John stated, unceremoniously turning around and rushing up the steps into the hotel, leaving Niko alone on the driveway.

The stud felt like he had just been mauled by a wild animal. Suddenly depleted of the joy he felt that night, he flickered his wrist and drove off, his stunned gaze glistening with tears. The further away he pushed, the more distant he felt from the dream Oliver's unexpected arrival had afforded him. And now, his brightened spirit was being forced to wake and accept the reality of that unadorned, uneventful, and bitterly ordinary life he so desperately tried to evade.

He wandered around town, purposely detouring his house as if stepping inside his room would suddenly force his feelings to sink in. Eventually, about half an hour in, he returned home. He parked the scooter and dragged his body up the steps of the shop into his small, cramped attic. He tossed the keys on a small bedside table, yanked his shirt and shorts off his body, and pulled his hair back, stalling, lost in the middle of the room. Then, he walked over to an old wooden desk, shoved against a corner near the window, and leaned over it, his finger glancing over his CD collection. He pulled one out, along with his light silver-colored Discman, popped the CD in, placed the headphones on his head, and leaped onto the bed, letting his muscular back fall over it. He pressed play and let his right hand skate gently inside his undies as he stared vacantly at the ceiling.

(Music playing on the headphones)
"So, hand in glove I stake my claim
I'll fight to the last breath
If they dare touch a hair on your head
I'll fight to the last breath
For the good life is out there somewhere
So stay on my arm, you little charmer
But I know my luck too well
Yes, I know my luck too well
And I'll probably never see you again
I'll probably never see you again
I'll probably never see you again"

There, in the solitude of his bedroom, Niko finally unleashed his vulnerability. And he cried. The dream was over, it felt. But then again, maybe people like him were never meant to dream.

(To be continued...)