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Palermo had felt attracted to the tall, strong man since the beginning. His skin itching at the thought of having a member of the gang be like him, at the thought of a good rough fuck whenever he wanted during their months in Italy.
Helsinki had seemed like the kind of guy who could completely overpower him and honestly, that was everything Martín wanted. Nothing less, nothing more than a couple of hours of fun to numb his restless mind, no sentiments attached.
After all, if he had to die in the Bank of Spain, he could still try and have a good time before, as depraved as he wanted it. Love and passion didn’t suit him, no, his soul a blackhole of complete chaos, he couldn’t love anybody. Not anymore. He gloated and prided himself in his glorious misery.
When Helsinki knocked at his door later that night, a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands, Palermo let him in, eager to jump to action and forget the wine and everything else.
Still, he humoured the other man, they drank together and talked about the plan. It felt weird for Martín to talk about such thing in that place yet he tried to ignore the feeling completely.
“It is a good plan, complicated but good. But what do you think you’ll do with so much gold?” Helsinki looks at him, a warm tentative smile on his lips.
Martín shrugged, a little tightening in his chest warning him about the risky subject they were approaching way too fast “Who wouldn’t want to have all that gold?” he finished his wine and set the glass aside, thinking about old promises, melting gold and love.
“So, you came up with the idea for this plan right?” one question too many, Palermo took the glass from Helsinki’s hand and put it out of the way. In one swift movement he went to straddle the other man, sitting on his thighs and starting to take off his tank top.
“Enough with the talking, don’t you think?” he bit Helsinki’s shoulder, eliciting a little moan. ‘Good, that’s very good titan’
Martín had only one rule. “No kissing, we’re not making love, we’re just going to relieve some pressure. Push out some steam from our engines”
“Tranquilo, Palermo, I know” strong hands went to hold his hips as Helsinki’s mouth slowly traveled its way down Palermo’s chest.
Martín allowed himself to be completely enveloped by Helsinki’s presence, ready for the moment the man would have taken him roughly on the small single bed.
He chuckled thinking about the monks and their stupid celibacy, feeling empowered in being such a profane thing. Helsinki’s eyes rose to meet his own and Martín’s breath caught as he saw mirth and devotion there. He reacted immediately, turning on his belly and pushing the other man closer roughly.
“Stop playing around and fuck me Helsinki”
Helsinki gripped Palermo’s hips strongly- “That sounds nice” -and he easily did as he was asked.
He had never thought about Andrés when he was with another man, no. That would have been sacrilegious, it would have meant dirtying the image of the man he had loved so purely for so long. Yet this time everything felt different, he found himself on the same bed he had shed his burning hot tears on years before, with a man who was treating him so softly.
The fact that he was having the best fuck he had in years wasn’t helping at all either. Martín had never thought about bringing men there. He had had lovers in Florence, naturally, he wasn’t a damn monk but he had never brought any of them back to the monastery. That was the sacred space reserved for him and Andrés alone and it was like the man himself was looking down on them, judging and pitying Martín.
Helsinki persisted in being infuriatingly tender with him, making sure he was okay and peppering sweet kisses on his back, Martín hissed and almost lost his patience, encouraging Helsinki to be rougher. Yet his venomous remarks had no effect on the man behind him, who in turn just kept biting and kissing Martín’s neck.
For the first time in long, dark years, Martín Berrote had felt something. And that something was fear, an irrational sense of fear that held his heart in its grasp, the poor thing beating madly as he tried to escape from the cage of his ribs.
He didn’t allow Helsinki to cuddle up close to him after, jumping off the bed instead and reaching out for his toothbrush. He needed to clean himself up, to push the man out of the room before his façade could crumble completely.
“Goodnight, no?” as he turned from the sink, the sight of Helsinki lying on the small bed, lollipop in his mouth almost made him snap impatiently.
’Get the man out, you don’t deserve this’
He knew he didn’t, of course he knew and he was convinced nobody could have ever loved him. He took pride in being a sarcastic little bitch, unavailable and unhinged, totally uncaring in regard to everything and everyone. Martín felt powerful in acting mysterious and detached, he didn’t really care about anything and he hated himself profoundly, he had nothing to lose by being a bitch.
He gave his meaningless little speech about camaraderie and emotional impediments looking Helsinki directly in the eyes, seeing hurt and disappointment there.
“Now we’re brothers” -Palermo tried to dismiss Helsinki with a little pat on the shoulder but he found himself enveloped in a quick, tight hug instead. He almost hissed at the contact, completely taken aback by the intimacy of the moment.
“Sí, brothers, goodnight Palermo”
Martín was left alone one more time, as the weight of what they had done crushed him and he had to sit down on the bed, breathing heavily. His chest tightened even more as he tried to catch his breath, tried to understand what the hell was wrong with him.
’Well, that would be a long list of fucked up shit.’
Later on in the night, as he lay on his bed fully awake, he thought about the warm feeling of Helsinki’s skin against his own. How could a simple hug ignite such a strong feeling inside him? He had never wanted intimacy, he didn’t need to be held and cuddled, he loathed the idea of romance with all his heart. He had been empty for so long he couldn’t even remember a before. This place though, it brought a whole baggage of memories, alongside the pain and suffering of being rejected and left alone. Everything around the monastery reminded him of easier times, when he was happier, happy in the misery of being in deeply in love with his best friend. But that was still happiness.
Yet that night something had started shattering inside him, something warm and soft had started biting at the dark, thick walls he had enclosed his own heart in.