Rough Attraction

by Talon p. s.

A stillness, while brief, still came in like a shadow in the room at the question, but Trofim quickly gathered himself and redirected the mood, “I needed a break and got it in modeling and moved overseas to be closer to the majority of the work. I don’t speak a lick of Italian or French, so England was my best choice. Plus, I was able to share a flat with another guy who was also a regular model. It was easier and less travel for me since most of the work is in Europe.” It was a well rehearsed answer, one he probably told himself often, but Maxum was only confirmed there was something else to it. Especially the way Darko’s arm moved around his brother and held him in a quiet hug, not meant to be noticed yet it screamed with buried emotions. The glances from Pyotr and Pavle reiterated it.

  The conversation shifted again, only this time a word, a simple word that was meaningless to Maxum, since it wasn’t English seemed to spark a hidden feud that had apparently sat and stoked for nearly a lifetime in one brother, and like a brush fire nine brothers went from a well stitched family to turmoil. Looking more like the typical American revised family from Maxum’s point of view now. At least this scenario made sense. The rest of them at the table watched in silence. Willing themselves to be invisible. The only thing keeping Maxum in his place was knowing any sudden departure would only fuel it further so he stayed put just as the others did. A hand reached under the table taking his hand. He glanced over, to once more, find the passionate face of Maggie, her smile a little more overwhelmed with the pain she felt for her extended family. Maxum wasn’t sure about any of it nor did he know what to do with her hand. While he may not have returned the reassuring grip she may have sought from him, he neither let her go either.

  In fewer than the time it would take him to argue a stocks purchase, the dispute went to resolution and the outcome was a stronger bond than what it started as. Now Maxum felt completely at a loss. His eyes moved to the man he’d known and slept with for only a month’s time, feelings he was trying to refute lurked deep inside threatening to fill the barren waste land of his heart that another had given little to.

  For the first time he questioned if he had this whole thing backwards. Was Darko the very man he should be with? Could a man who fucked so intensely also be a love that lived in the heart as well? He was at a loss to say whom Darko was or what he himself would have to do about it. He only knew he had no intentions of leaving tonight. Not yet. So when Darko led him back to the great room to vegetate like stuffed whales on a few pillows thrown on the floor in front of the hearth, Maxum went with his lover with no argument from him.

  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

  That night as they lay in bed, sated and having even managed to do so without keeping the whole house up. They lay in each other’s arms, more awake then they had been earlier during the post turkey lethargic evening.

  “You could have warned me, you know.” Maxum mumbled against Darko’s neck.

  “Oh sure. Dear lover, whom I don’t even know where you live nor have your number, wont you please come spend Thanksgiving weekend with me at the Laszkovi family reunion of fifty?”

  “I would have said no.”

  “Precisely why I didn’t warn you.”

  “Just for that I get to go out of turn.”

  “I might even let you tap it twice.” Darko waggled his brows at him.

  “That’s my line.”

  “What’s yours is mine.”

  “And what about yours.”

  “Of course I didn’t figure you the type to share.”

  “I’m not.” Maxum growled.

  “Then it’s settled between us. If you want to keep me all to yourself you have to stay.”

  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

  While most Americans were either running around taking advantage of the Black Friday sales, or out playing golf if you happened to have warm weather, or at home watching football, Maxum found himself standing out on the dock of a large boathouse on East River overlooking the greater city. Freezing his ass off, while ten men were doing jumping jacks on the dock to get their blood pumping enough to shed one layer of clothes and load into the sculls already waiting on them at the end of the dock.

  The winter season so far had been rather mild and aside from a few snow flurries the past few weeks the river was still flowing and no snow on the ground. Though Maxum was told that wouldn’t have mattered much if this were a practice, they’ve been known to row across the frozen ice to keep in shape over the winter season. To Maxum that was a testament they were dedicated to a sport so few actually existed let alone participated in.

  “So ever row before?” One of the older brothers stepped up beside him. Maxum was usually good about names but this time, there were just too many of them and they all shared so many features he hadn’t gotten them all down yet, but this one was the doctor. The man who had once been married to Maggie, the adorable woman, who was now off with the rest of the women and shop-a-holics.

  “Can’t say I have.”

  Pyotr called out the arrangement over everyone’s head to them.

  “Put him in the coxswain seat then and Darko can take the stroke position in front of him. That way Maxum gets an up-close and personal look at his man in action.” Of course Maxum didn’t miss the rather gloating wicked grin that dashed across Darko’s face who was apparently more than content to take advantage of something Maxum was sure would be revealed to him soon enough.

  Pyotr, Darko and the doctor loaded up in the eight-man scull first. Darko taking the first slider on the stern end, while Pyotr took the first position at the bow with the doctor taking one of the middle spots. The rest all squatted at the edge of the dock and when Pyotr gave out a call like he was in a football huddle, the other five carefully stepped in and took their positions in unison. A calculated and well-practiced choreography of balance and counter-balance. No doubt from at least a few spills into the water. Which maybe on a summer day wouldn’t be so bad? However, today wasn’t one of those days.

  Bodies lined up and oars sticking out like out riggers, they held onto to the dock to keep it in place while Darko reached out to help Maxum take front-row-center for the show. Or in this case rudder-row-center rather.

  Maxum chuckled nervously as he contemplated the boat shell that was no more than fifteen or eighteen inches across and the frigid waters it was floating on. “You want me to fit in there?”

  “Well usually the cox’n is smaller than you, but since you don’t row—”

  “Fuck.” Maxum cursed as he carefully tucked his legs and lowered down in the cramped spot, “My legs are going to be hurting after this.”

  “Yeah, just be sure you don’t damage that middle one or Darko will dump your ass.” One of the brothers took advantage of the opening to razz a brother’s lover.

  Maxum laughed as he finally settled into place, “Is he trying to warn me you’d leave me if my dick didn’t work too well?”

  Darko shrugged, shaking his head, “Not at all. We both know I love you for your money.”

  “HA! Now I know you’re fibbing.”

  While the remaining two brothers were already shoving off in a two-man shell, another call from Pyotr and they all shoved off the dock, and away they went. The chant called out by Darko and two other voices that Maxum couldn’t make out, and that set the rowing cadence for everyone else. Maxum could already feel his legs start to cramp and as the boat sped up the sting of the cold air found his face. Darko’s blue eyes seemed to shine like sapphires held out in front of the sun. Stunning, and not just in looking within the frame of hair the color of dark coffee, but the effect they had on him as he watched him intently. The strange tribal calls even gave the feeling a rather barbaric connection to it. All reinforced with the fluid movement of arms pushing the rows about in a sweeping motion over the water’s surface then dipped down, arms and legs together, pushed and pulled with a muscle tone that was sure to have Maxum a devoted fan by the end of their journey. Now if he could only figure out what to do with the hard-on fighting for room there was so l
ittle of in his cramped little spot. No wonder they called it the cox seat.

  He was actually rather glad when the chant ended and soon changed over into conversation that broke the hypnotic scene as they headed up stream.

  Maxum tried to do more than just half listen as the conversation started up about the youngest brother and his twin lovers. While a rather unconventional arrangement that many would dismiss as an arrangement for just sex. Maxum had gathered over the past day that the trio went far deeper than that. It was still hard for him to fathom or even keep up with the conversation but judging by the problem one of the boys had, a conventional relationship would not be nearly as fulfilling or as healthy as the one the twins were in now. The important thing was the three men were happy with each other and had support from a family of brothers.

  “So what’s it feel like to be champions now?” the newly restored family member, Stanislav asked. Not with a tone that he wanted to change the subject but rather he had a few years of family to catch up on. Though Maxum had to lean a bit to see who’d actually asked and that got him an exaggerated head shake from Darko. Leaning apparently was really bad.

  “Feels mighty good.” Trofim, one of the names Maxum did remember responded to his little brother sitting in front of him.

  “I wish I could have come down to see it.” His voice trailed off and he shook his head, “I’ve missed too many things. Sasha’s wedding— the races— Pavle’s divorce.” They all laughed.

  A pause lent an opportunity and Maxum took it. “So how is it you came up with the name?” Maxum asked aloud. Sure he’d already asked before but now he got a family team perspective on it. There was always more to a story when more than one person was telling it.

  “That parts pretty obvious, we’re all gay.” The slight British accent told it was Trofim who had answered.

  “Hey, hey, speak for yourself.” One of the older brothers answered and that had to have been Jovan. Since he was the only one on the boat save the youngest that wasn’t gay.

  Darko laughed over his shoulder, “I meant everyone on the team. A few even live in Greenwich Village. So that made it legit, but it started off as a goading to get one of the top competing teams to accept our challenge. Rowing competition is structured so that top competitors never go head-to-head with each other until later in the qualifying races. It’s actually designed that way so that top teams, aka the popular guys, don’t get knocked out of the line-up too early in the season. However, in our case, being the newbies, it was our way in if we could win. We beat them twice.”

  “Twice?” Maxum asked.

  “Yeah.” Pyotr took over the conversation, “The rule is the losing team gets to have what’s called a Repêchage. A second chance to advance to the finals or a double elimination. So what can we say, except, we got in the competition rounds. After that, we decided to keep the name because once word was out about an all-gay male sculling team; we had guys from all over coming out to cheer us on. Girls too actually. It has been good publicity, both for us a as a team but for the gay community as well.”

  “We have one of the largest fan bases outside of a collegiate team in the entire New England district.” The doctor commented in.

  “So the name Greenwich Queens stuck, it’s legit yet rhetorical at the same time.” Pyotr added in mid stroke.

  “Damn, I’m sweatin’ my ass off— I’m ready to lose another layer.” Darko called ahead for the oars to still so he could strip his jacket off.

  “Well you got the cox’n in front of you put him to work.” One of his brothers called back to him.

  Darko let out a slight chuckle, “That’d be you.”

  “What am I suppose to do?”

  “Call them to let it run.”

  “Let it run?”

  “Yeah, only louder.” Darko laughed, “So we can all hear it.”

  Maxum straightened, “Let it run!” He called out trying not to laugh as he did so. He had no idea what he’d ordered them to do until all at once all eight rowers stopped rowing, lifting their oars and held them up out of the water while Darko pulled another layer off. Several of the others following in suit.

  Watching Darko pull his sweatshirt over his head to reveal his muscular form clad in the silk under armor sport shirt was just a little too much visual candy for Maxum right then. That and the fact there was a whole row of men just like him.

  Another coached call from him and the oars went back into motion, as did his lover’s body. Fuck, but who ever designed the athletic apparel wasn’t thinking about sports or function at all, but fucking eye candy rather. Those things were made with the fan in mind. Maxum just couldn’t stand it much longer, especially with Darko sporting the wicked grin with every pull of the oars. He knew full good and well what he was doing to him. Maxum chuckled, reaching under his parka to fish out his cock. Well two could play this game.

  Darko was just crunching in on his sweep when his attention fell on Maxum’s hand and what his hand was doing and all the blood left his body to pool inside his cock. A clatter resounded behind him that didn’t fully register in his brain until he heard his brother Rury laughing at him exclaiming to everyone what mischief his lover was up to. A set of hands reached up past him taking his hands and the touch jarred him. Darko glanced around finding he had over reached with his oars and overcame Trofim’s and somehow Rury had pulled into them as well.

  A few minutes to carefully untangle, plus a few razzing comments from his brothers at his expense and they were back in motion— heading back for the boathouse.

  ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

  Darko was already naked and wet when he saw Maxum leaning against the threshold just watching him, and that wasn’t where he wanted him. He turned the water off and walked over reaching up to cup his jaw and kissed him without having said a word. Maxum’s arms fell from the guarded position over his chest and floated down to his hips, but they didn’t pull him in like they normally would and that told Darko his lover wasn’t accustomed to open viewed sex.

  “You still have clothes on. While I don’t mind fucking you with your boots on, wet clothes kinda suck.”

  “You want me to fuck you in front of all these people?” Maxum asked while Darko still worked to keep his lips busy, nibbling over them. Coaxing him to relax and be comfortable.

  “What people.”

  Darko took Maxum’s hands and brought one around setting it to his ass and pressed it to palm over it at will. Of course he brought Maxum’s other hand over his cock knowing full well Maxum wouldn’t turn that down. Once he had Maxum in play he grabbed the man’s head in his own hands and pulled him in for a more intense chain of kissing and nibbling, he slid his hands down over his shoulders grabbing clothes as he went. Only trick now was to get Maxum undressed.

  “You know you want to suck me” Darko started to go for the hard core, below-the-belt kind of teasing, to see if he could get Maxum to rip loose. “Have my meat shoved—”Kissing and licking interrupted his words but not his train of thought. “—down your throat—” Oh damn what was he going to say? Oh yeah, “—while I cum inside you.” and that seemed to do it. Suddenly Maxum’s hands let go but only to fight to get his clothes off as fast as he could manage and still have clothes in a wearable condition to put back on later.

  Shirt— pants— shoes— all went flying over his shoulder towards the locker room and right away, his hands found their way back to the body that tempted him beyond reason. He walked Darko back towards the shower stall not stopping until the wall got in the way. From there Maxum began to work his way down, squatting with his knees spread wide. One hand quickly feeding Darko’s cock into his mouth, while his other wrapped around his own, and started an eager pace over his shaft to match his sucking. He felt Darko’s hands, one gently steadying his balance yet keeping him right where they both wanted his mouth to be, the other holding his cock at the base feeding it back towards Maxum’s throat with uninhibited lust.

  Did it ever stop getting hotter with this
man? Always another thing that rushed up to face his own hidden hungers tapped the shoulder of his perversions and invited them out to play without any regrets. No insult taken, to be had or given. Like the resort at Salientis where fucking without bounders existed but it didn’t necessarily take place publicly nor did Maxum have much practice taking advantage of the freedom he’d invested in. While fucking or sucking in front of a crowd was not anything, he ever really thought about, or had any headiness for him. The idea that he could be so into this man that it didn’t matter if anyone was watching him was what had him worked over into an overload of arousal. His fist tugged along his length giving an added twist over his gland and a sharp white flash of pleasure shot with each stroke straight to his balls, while his tongue licked over the dark flavor of this man. Maxum knew he wasn’t going to last very long this time. Damn if he was going to shoot off all by himself. He reached around under Darko’s nuts, cupping them roughly, then stretched a finger back to tease at the tight rosette. A tight hiss blasted out over his head and the slight shift of Darko’s hips moving back was invitation enough. A quick trade of cock for finger he slathered it up with saliva then once again reached under Darko’s sack, found the hungry little hole and pushed in.

  Jovan’s faced turned a beet red and he snapped around to face the shower walls; his hands busying themselves washing over his body and scrubbing over the sparse pelt of chest hairs. However, the sound of his brother and his lover reached his ears despite his trying not to pay attention and that, he didn’t know how to block.

  He tried to look at this whole thing logically. Which he had to admit was all new territory. He didn’t care that any of his brothers were gay, but he had carried some anger with him for far too long in blaming Pyotr. That his older brother’s homosexuality had been the cause of their losing their parents and having to flee the homeland. Now, he knew that had never been right and somehow learning it was a huge lifted burden from him, because he didn’t want to be angry with his brother any longer. Still though, he was straight. This shouldn’t affect him none.