Hey everyone! Sorry for ending the last chapter where it did. We had technical difficulties. Basically we lost a whole chunk of the story. So here is the ending of the sex scene, and then the next chapter. Enjoy! (schoolgirl-cheesesculpture says that if you get the reference to a certain video game, you get virtual cookies and a internet high-five)


"Fine I guess you're ready then." Ismael took out his fingers, a trail connecting them for a second. Grabbing his own cock he stroked it a few times to get it coated as well before pushing in slowly. So that Alfred couldn't make a noise, he kissed him again, tongue darting out.

Immediately, Alfred's face contorted in pain as he was penetrated. With the position, it felt as though the cock inside him was going deeper inside than before which made his body want to get away from it. Even with that little spot inside him, there was no way this was better. "F-Fucking move!" He hissed around Ismael's mouth and tongue.

Shrugging, Ismael started thrusting. He had been planning to take it slow, because this time they were more civil than last time, but if Alfred didn't want that then it was fine with him. "At t-this point, Matthew would already be begging me for more." He didn't look at the man under him, instead fixating on his chest.

"Shut up! I'm not Matthew!" Alfred growled, digging his nails into the other's back as the pain only seemed to heighten with movement. "I'm sure as fuck not going to beg for your cock anyways."

"Of course you aren't Matthew. He is much cutter." And so much better in so many ways. God, he missed him so much. Not even the pleasure of being in this guy's ass could make him feel any better, or forget his lover.

Just as he was about to yell back at the man screwing him, the same jolt of pleasure he felt last time went through his body. Whatever it was, it stopped him from telling Ismael off and instead made an embarrassingly loud groan pass his lips. "Fuck!" Alfred hissed after, pulling at Ismael's dreads to distract himself from the leftover pleasure.

Grinning ruthfully, Ismael continued assaulting the same spot. "It looks like you are enjoying yourself." He put a hand on Alfred's stomach to help him keep balance. If not, they probably would have both fallen on the ground, since it was a fairly narrow couch.

Keeping his mouth shut to keep out any noises, Alfred leaned forward. Waiting until he was pulled out, he then bit down on the juncture of Ismael's neck and shoulder to keep himself from moaning out. There was no way he could get turned on just from having something up his ass!

"Ow fuck!" Ismael pulled away, feeling the bite mark on his neck. "Fucking bitch what are you a fucking vampire?" He reached down, grabbing Alfred's cock in a vice like grip, the head turning purple.

"Let my cock go!" He yelled back. Alfred's first instinct was to thrust into the hand, but he managed to stop himself. How in the world could this feel good? It made sense for girls, but they didn't take it up the ass every time!

Squeezing tighter, Ismael lowered his head and started biting one of Alfred's nipples. It pissed him off that he would probably have a bite mark on his neck for a few days now, so he wanted to make the blond man suffer for it.

Biting onto his own arm to keep himself quiet, Alfred pulled back to growl. "Fuck, I'm sorry for biting you! Just fucking let my cock go!" Immediately he bit down on his arm again since the thrusts inside him made his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure.

Satisfied, Isamael didn't let go but loosened his grip slightly and started slowly pumping his hand. This way, if Alfred was going to cum too soon, he could just squeeze it again and make him wait.

Leaning his head back, Alfred opened his eyes and tried to keep himself from moaning. "Wh-What the fuck do you keep hitting?" He gasped, trying to fool himself into thinking that he wasn't enjoying this enough to rock against Ismael.

Laughing, Ismael leaned down closer, resting on his elbow. "Your prostate. Best organ in the male body." He could feel himself getting close, and he was torn between helping Alfred cum, or just finishing himself and let the American deal with it himself. But he figured that if he did that, then he would complain that gay sex wasn't good enough to make him cum. So he sped up his hand.

"What about," Alfred stopped to shudder as he felt himself getting closer. "the cock?" Before he could stop himself Alfred's mouth opened in a silent scream as white invaded his vision. He could faintly feel the hand milking him and the continued thrusts, but they didn't mean anything to him in his post-orgasmic haze.

Thrusting the last few times, Ismael stopped thinking. Which is why, when he came, he screamed out "Matthew!" and collapsed onto the body underneath him.

It only took a few seconds of feeling Ismael's weight on top of him before Alfred registered what just happened. Before he could feel both of their hearts for another second, he pushed Ismael off him to the floor. "Get the fuck out of my house." He muttered dangerously.

Coming back to the present, Ismael stood up, quickly putting on his clothes, and started walking to the door. He paused, not even turning around, and muttered "I never want to see you again." and left.

Hearing the door close, Alfred yelled out in frustration. What the fuck had possessed him to do that? Not only that, why did he like it? And what made Ismael think he could cum inside him? All he knew was that the feeling was mutual; he never wanted to lay an eye on the Cuban bastard again.

.oOo.

Walking through the snow deadened silence of the park, Alfred buried his nose further into the scarf he was wearing. It just snowed for the first time this year and it was already so cold! Damn bipolar weather... Still, the cold helped Alfred keep his mind off what had happened a week ago.

Trudging through the snow, the American stopped quickly as he heard some suspicious sounds. Before he could only hear his own footfalls but now there were rushed ones as well as... Was that a woman?

Alfred turned around and tried to find the source of the sounds. Going back to the nearest fork in the path that he went through, he immediately saw what was going on. "Hey, what the fuck are you doing to her?" He yelled out at two men who looked like they were trying to take advantage of the stranger.

Looking up, the first man growled. "Stay out of this." The girl tried to run again, but the second man had her tightly by her wrist.

"Help! Help me!" She gripped her purse, not wanting these men to take it, but at the same time hoping that was all they were after.

"Get the fuck away from her!" Alfred yelled, not quite sure why he was bothering. Maybe it was because he felt as if he needed to reaffirm his masculinity. More likely it was because he knew he needed to help this woman for whatever reason, be it his hero-complex or not. Stepping forward, he smirked as their eyes widened at his brashness.

Letting the girl go, the two men faced their new opponent. The girl ran away immediately, but there would always be more. "You should have stayed out of this." They started walking towards this guy, wanting to bash his brains in.

"You should learn to not pick on innocent girls. See, you made her run away, chucklenuts." Alfred grinned more, wondering just what was wrong with him to want to fight these guys. Oh well, it was probably just his testosterone needing to show after taking it up the ass with his brother's ex.

Jumping forward, no one was really sure who threw the first punch. As soon as the guys saw that the blond was actually fairly strong, the second quickly ran away, leaving his buddy to fight for himself. "Dammit, fucking asshole!" He yelled, realizing he had been abandoned.

Wiping off some blood that was dripping into his eye, Alfred smiled demoniacally. "That's what you get for being a couple of asses. You better be happy that I'm not gay or I'd rape your fat ass into hell."

Growling, the man reached into his jacket. Now that he was alone, he only had one chance of winning, and he knew that. The knife he pulled out gleamed in the moonlight, as he turned it in his hand. "Say that again. I dare you."

"I said you're lucky I'm not gay cause there'd be no way you could walk properly for a week if I was you fucker."

Thrusting forward, the guy felt his knife hit something, but could tell it was nowhere near what he was aiming for. But he still heard a satisfying groan of pain.

Immediately lashing out, Alfred kicked the man in the balls before hitting the knife away. "You should stop bothering randoms, dipshit." With that, he pushed the man into the wall, making sure he hit his head hard against it. "Fucking rapist."

Alfred could feel himself getting weak from the stab to his shoulder. The cold helped it somewhat, but he knew he needed to rest. Sadly, he could already tell that he was too far from his own house, and that a certain someone was closer. Not that he wanted to see him, but he knew that the bastard would feel obliged to take care of him like this.

So with his shoulder and forehead bleeding and with a slight limp, Alfred set off to Ismael's house, silently glad that he knew where he lived now and hoping that somehow their meeting wouldn't end with him having more injuries.

Hearing a knock at the door, Ismael put out his cigarette. Who the hell would be visiting him at this time of night? Ever since Matthew died, the only person to come see him had been... "Fuck, what the hell happened to you?" He noticed Alfred's bruised face, and then also saw that his shoulder was bleeding. "You look worse than usual."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious." Alfred grumbled, wiping away some more blood with his good hand. "I need to rest somewhere and here was closest." For some reason he didn't want to up and say that he had gotten into a pointless fight, maybe because he knew that Ismael wouldn't think it was 'heroic' like he did at the time.

Closing his eyes for a second, Ismael then let Alfred inside. "Don't drip blood on my floor." He was only doing this for Matthew, he didn't actually care about this guy. Going into the kitchen, he grabbed his first aid kit. "Take off your shirt."

Not even bothering to retort about his request, Alfred ground his teeth as it pulled at the wound on his shoulder. It wasn't too deep luckily, but it was the shallow ones that hurt the most. "Just get it over with so I can go home." He grumbled as Ismael came back with some gauze and other various things to clean and dress his wounds. "And trust me when I say that I really don't want to be here."

"Funny, I don't want you to be here either." He looked at the cut, which was still oozing blood. Ismael had a little bit of satisfaction when Alfred winced when he started cleaning it. "So, what happened? Run into a car?"

Snorting, Alfred shook his head. "No, I got into a fight and the guy brought out a knife before I smashed his head into a wall." Looking around the kitchen, he commented. "What did you do with the pictures?"

Throwing out a bloody tissue, Ismael started putting gauze on the wound. "Two are in my bedroom. The other I have in my pocket." He hadn't been without it since he got it, the exceptions being when he slept and when he took a shower. "So why did you get into a fight?"

"Some girl was getting mugged and I stepped in. Figured it was the least I could do since they looked like who I imagined killed Matt." The American shrugged, hissing when his forehead was cleaned. "So why are they in your room? Do you jack off to them or something?" Not that he really wanted to know, but it was the first thing Alfred thought of so of course he said it.

Glaring, Ismael pushed on the cut on Alfred's shoulder. "I wouldn't dirty his memory. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm a pig." He just looked at them every night before he went to sleep. And most mornings when he woke up.

Alfred grimaced at the pain. "Shit man, that was uncalled for! Fuck!" He swore again, covering it up with his hand. "Then who do you jack off to if it isn't my bro?" Even though he still didn't want to know, Alfred was somewhat curious just who gay guys thought was attractive.

Annoyed with where this conversation was going, Ismael looked at him disdainfully. "Brad Pitt."

"Really? Didn't pick you out to be a fan." Alfred shrugged which made him wince again. "So... What made you go out with my brother in the first place? It wasn't like he was gay before you." He commented off-handedly, looking away from Ismael. Maybe it was because he fought the man who made him think of his brother, but he wanted to know more about their relationship.

"Thought you didn't want me talking about him." He finished up cleaning his wounds, so he went to the fridge and grabbed an ice pack. "Put this on your face. Wouldn't want the girls seeing you like that, now would you?"

"I dunno." The blond said, holding the ice pack to his cheek. Totally ignoring the statement, he continued. "I guess I want to know why my brother turned gay for you. He never really told me why, just that 'you were special' and all that shit."

Sitting on the couch, Ismael leaned back. "Someone doesn't just 'turn gay'. Did he tell you where we met?" He waited for Alfred to shake his head, before continuing. "We met at a gay club. And remember, that was long after he started loving you."

His eyebrow raising, Alfred just scoffed. "My poor little innocent bro going to a gay club? I doubt that, even though I'm not surprised that you would go somewhere like that. He told me you were quite the whore before. Just another reason why I fucking hate your guts." Once again, he completely ignored the last part of what Ismael said, still not wanting to believe it at all, but also not wanting to put more attention on it.

"So you're saying that you have never had a one night stand or gone to a strip bar? Face it, we're not that different." Then Ismael smirked, looking at him. "You've even had a dick up your ass." God, why was this guy still here, anyway? He was patched up, so he should just leave.

"Yeah but that doesn't mean anything." He spat before looking over to the Cuban. "How did you two fuck?" Seeing that Ismael just stared at him, he asked again. "Y'know, how did you fuck Matthew?" Why was he asking this all of a sudden? It didn't make sense, but maybe it was because he was already fucked up from everything happening today that he was somewhat curious if his bro really did love him.

Sneering slightly, Ismael looked out the window. "I didn't 'fuck' him. I made love to him. There is a difference, not that you would know." He looked back at Alfred, making sure he saw the coldness in his eyes. This guy just didn't get it.

Nudging Ismael's knee with his foot, Alfred took the ice pack off his face. "I've made love to girls before, it just never ended well." Waiting until the brunette looked at him, he stated with a straight face. "Show me how you 'made love' to my brother then."

Staying silent for a moment, Ismael waited for Alfred to start laughing at the joke he just made. But when he just looked on with a serious face, he had to say something. "You're... kidding, right?" Alfred still didn't make a response. "Look, having sex with you was wrong. You just look so much like him... if we did it how me and Matthew did it... I might start to, I don't know, lose focus or something."

"I don't care. I want to see what made my brother stay with you, because it obviously wasn't your natural charm." So what if it was also a grab at something that would make him feel as if Matthew was still around. This way he could see if Ismael really did take good care of his brother even if he supposedly 'loved' Alfred instead of his boyfriend. "So I guess we'll just go to hell together." With that, Alfred went over to Ismael and grabbed his face, pulling their lips together in a strong kiss.

Surprised by what just happened, it took Ismael an extra second to react to the passionate kiss. But then he pulled away, shaking his head. "No. That's just wrong. We would kiss more like this." Then he went forward again, this time much slower, just feeling each other. Damn, this was already bringing back too many memories.

Alfred was just as surprised as Ismael when suddenly their kiss turned tender and sweet. Did the bastard really treat his brother with such compassion? Still, he let himself go into the kiss, wondering just if this would actually make him gay. A quick hatefuck was nothing but actually 'making love' with your brother's ex whom you hate? "And Matt liked this?" He asked as they pulled away, his voice low.

"What, you think he would rather the way we did it before? Hell no, I would never do that with him." Wouldn't anyone kiss the person they loved like this? Ismael stood up, pulling Alfred along with him. "If you want it how we used to do it, you have to play the part as well."

Switching his hands so Ismael was pulling him by the one that wasn't stabbed, he nodded. "Sure, but I'm not going to be moaning your name if that's what you want. I just want to see if you were good enough for my brother." It made sense that his brother didn't want to be fucked into the mattress, but already hearing that he went to a gay club and loved him made Alfred not want to assume anything about Matt.

Opening the door to his bedroom, Ismael quickly went to the side table, taking Matthew's pictures and placing them face down. He wouldn't need to see what was about to happen. "I already told you, Matthew usually moaned your name."

"You can talk about my brother as long as it's not about that." It was already disturbing enough that he was going to do the dirty with Ismael in a gay way, but he didn't need to think about Matthew getting hot over him. "Now what do you want me to do?"

"Just... don't be yourself." Because there was no way in hell he would have loving sex with a guy he hated. But, he had asked for this, so they both sat on the bed, awkwardly waiting for someone to start. But then Ismael remembered that he would normally be the one to start, so he leaned over, kissing him again.

Continuing the slow kiss from before, Alfred felt something inside him twist awkwardly. Was it the fact that he didn't find kissing a guy horrible? Well, except for the fact that it was Ismael of course. He would still rather punch in the guy's face then do this, but it was the only way to learn. "So what would Matt be doing now?"

"Blushing." Ismael answered immediately. "But I can understand if a straight boy like you couldn't do that." But his words didn't have the harsh undertones that they normally did when talking to Alfred. After all, they were pretending this was Matthew, instead.

Pulling the Cuban into another sweet kiss, Alfred murmured. "You're right, straight guys don't blush."

Hands starting to lightly ghost over Alfred's naked torso, Ismael started sucking on his neck. "I just meant that you weren't good enough to blush." He had to keep saying these things, if for no other reason than to make himself remember that this wasn't Matthew.

Alfred shivered, immediately steeling himself afterward so that he wouldn't do it again under the onslaught of Ismael's fingers. "How is it a good thing for a guy to blush? Matt used to get picked on for being so girly."

"Because all the other guys are afraid of the fact that they find him cute." Quickly, Ismael took the ponytail out of his hair, letting the dreads fall around his face. Matthew always liked it like that better. "Found him cute." He corrected himself with a sobering voice.

Smirking, Alfred reached forward and pulled Ismael closer to him by his hair. "Not all guys are secretly gay I hope you know. Just cause you want them to be doesn't mean they are."

Grabbing Alfred's crotch, Ismael let the game stop for a moment. "You are telling me that you're completely straight, when you are this hard already?" But then his hand softened and started caressing the still clothed leg.

"Any guy gets hard when his cock is touched, dumbass." Alfred muttered as they pulled together for another, almost sickeningly sweet kiss. If this wasn't Ismael and he wasn't pretending as if he was Matthew, then the American would have imagined himself being a with some hot girl. With dreads.

Rolling his eyes, Ismael tried to continue acting as if he was doing this with Matthew, no matter how much it hurt to do so. "Matt would probably take my shirt off now."

"And here I thought he'd still be blushing." Alfred scoffed as he reached forward and pulled off the Cuban's shirt with no fanfare at all. "Now what? Were you one of those 'tons of foreplay' couples or did you get right down and dirty?" Despite how harsh his words were, Alfred really did want to know in a somewhat creepy way.

Trying to compose himself so he wouldn't start yelling, Ismael leaned back down again. "There needed to be foreplay, so Matthew wouldn't hurt at all. With you, I didn't really care if you hurt, so I was really quick with it."

Crawling around on the bed, Alfred stopped himself from smirking or scowling as he went on top of Ismael. "And what if he was needy, hm? Would he instigate it?"

Shaking his head, the Cuban quickly undid Alfred's pants. "The only time he started it was the first time. Right after you two had the big fight when he told you he was gay." And since it had been Matthew's first time, he had taken even longer to stretch him.

Grimacing, Alfred determinedly ignored the part about the fight and looked down at Ismael. "He was pretty much a girl then." With that, he leaned down and kissed Ismael again, not paying attention to how he rolled his hips forcefully into the Cuban's.

Letting his hand slip into Alfred's pants, he started fondling his cock. "No, he wasn't. He was stronger than you will ever know." Not physically, but emotionally. After all, Matthew had had to deal with the knowledge that the one he loved would never reciprocate his feelings for his whole life.

Alfred's eyes squeezed shut as he was fondled. "Whatever ok, I thought I told you to shut up about that. I don't want to think about it." Of course he was talking about his brother's 'fascination' with him, but Ismael probably wouldn't have understood.

"You would rather think about having sex with your dead brother's boyfriend?" The Cuban flipped them over quickly, so that he was now on top of Alfred, so he could move down and kiss a line from his navel downward. Matthew had always liked when he did this.

With a squirm, the American grumbled. "I'd rather not think right about now." Why else would he be having sex with Ismael for the third -well, second- time? All he wanted was mind blowing pleasure and not only that, but something else other than their hatefucking.

Kisses reaching the line of course hair, Ismael licked a long line up Alfred's cock, flicking his tongue into the slit at the end. "Fine. I'll fuck you so good that you won't be able to think."

"Good." He whispered, arching his back as his cock was licked once more. Alfred really shouldn't have been so turned on by the prospect, but he kept pinning it on the fact that he had been single for a while now. At least, a while in his mind.

His movements still soft and controlled, Ismael let his hands wander up Alfred's torso. He wouldn't let the American cum on his face this time, but he always liked giving Matthew a bit of a blow job before starting. And maybe some more when he stretched him.

Feeling the warm mouth surround his cock head for the second time, Alfred let out a sigh of breath before looking down. With his hair free to roam, Ismael's dreads tesingly brushed the inside of his thighs, making it hard not to buck into the mouth. Still, the blond didn't dare to say anything as he reached down and touched them, massaging the hairs.

Taking his mouth off the cock almost instantly, Ismael looked away. "Don't... Matt used to do that..." This wasn't Matthew. This was Alfred, who he hated. He knew this was true, but his heart wasn't listening, and it kept beating against his rib cage.

There was a second as Alfred hesitated, wanting to do it just to piss off Ismael but something stopped him. Instead, he pushed himself up on his elbows and brought the Cuban closer to his mouth before whispering. "Just go with it."

Something must have been seriously fucked with him, but he wanted to be treated like he was Matthew. Maybe it was because he always had Ismael with him, keeping him happy, but deep down where even Alfred wouldn't acknowledge, it was because he wanted to be this close to his brother.

Closing his eyes, Ismael refused to look at him. Damn, why did they have to be twins, for god's sake? "Easy for you to say. It's not painful for you." He was beginning to wonder if he would ever get over his first real boyfriend and lover, but he probably wouldn't. Maybe he would learn how to live on, but there would always be a part that was attached to Matthew.

"You don't think this is painful? Ismael, you keep saying how my brother wanted this from me. How could that not be painful to know that's how he felt all this time, yet I pushed him to the side?" Not wanting to talk anymore, he kissed the other's jaw, feeling the stubble under his lips. "Just... Let yourself go. That's what I'm doing."

Finally opening his eyes, Ismael moved so they were actually kissing now. He was right, just let go. Matthew wasn't here anymore, so it didn't matter what he did. No matter how much it felt like he was dying inside, it didn't matter. The one person that had accepted him was never coming back.

Feeling that the other was kissing back, Alfred pushed his mouth forward forcefully before backing off completely. There had to have been a small part of him that was gay, but he still wouldn't admit to enjoying the attention his chest was getting from Ismael as he made his way down south.

When Alfred laid down again, Ismael went back to what he had been doing, lightly twisting his soft nipples. "At-" He cleared his throat, "At this point, I would probably tell him how cute he was, how perfect he was. I'm not going to say that to you."

Squirming on the bed, he nodded. "Good. Don't." Because as much as he wanted to be treated as if he was Matthew just for now, he wouldn't want to see just how Ismael would react to that. There was no way he could deal with a crying man.

Normally, the Cuban would have spent at least ten more minutes making him feel good, but he just couldn't take it anymore. So Ismael grabbed a bottle of lube that he remembered buying in the middle of the night with Matthew, and coated his fingers.

Knowing by now what came next, Alfred shut his eyes before wincing as the still cool finger probed his entrance before slipping in. It was sad how much he knew from two other times doing the same thing, yet it seemed so much more raw this time.

"Just tell me when you're ready for another finger." It would be easier than guessing when he was ready. Lightly kissing Alfred's neck, Ismael was careful to not leave a hickey but still wanted to make him feel good. Well, that is what he would have wanted, had this been Matthew.

Nodding, he murmured an agreement. If they were going to go by his standards for being stretched enough, then they would be here for a long time. Well, not really he supposed as the one finger soon felt much too at home in his ass. "I'm ready."

Adding another finger, Ismael thrust them in and out, but only a little. Curling his fingers, he tried to hit his prostate. "Make sure not to cum." Well, with Matthew he would try to make him cum as much as possible, but he just didn't feel like that with Alfred.

With a grumble he hissed. "I'll try not..." Already he was reverting to his normal 'hate Ismael and why the fuck am I doing this anyways' mode, but Alfred let himself be fingered and stretched. Well, at least this way he kinda knew what it was like for girls. "Did Matt ever fuck you?"

Shaking his head, Ismael bent over Alfred so they were touching with their whole bodies. "I offered, he always said no."

Grabbing instinctively onto Ismael's dreads, Alfred mumbled. "Then I'm fucking you next, I don't care what you say." Pressing up against the body above him, he then gyrated his hips forcefully into the Cuban's.

Biting down on his neck, Ismael made sure to leave a mark. "What, you think there will be a next time?" Then he licked where he had bitten, as he started spreading his fingers. "Sorry, I would never have done that to Matthew."

"You better not have," Alfred grumbled, moving around under Ismael. "If you did, I would have to kick your ass as well as fuck it." With the fingers twisting and thrusting inside him, the blond was about to complain before groaning deeply as his 'magic spot' was struck.

Grinning, Ismael tried his best to look like he wasn't once again wishing this was Matthew. "Your prostate is as easy to find as your brother's was." He added his last finger, figuring that he was probably ready for it since it had been a while.

Hissing at the new pressure, the American narrowed his eyes. "Is that some sort of compliment gays give each other?" Though he couldn't help but be intrigued by that fact. Something he never thought he would know or even wanted to beforehand.

Leaning his forehead on Alfred's shoulder, Ismael let his dread locks cover his face. "Shut up about it, you fucking gay hater. I've had enough of that in my life. And so had Matthew." He had told him some of the horror stories from high school. He got picked on a lot because he was so shy, and everyone said he must be a fag because he had never had a girlfriend.

"Then you just shut up and fuck me, okay?" He grumbled, not wanting to get into another argument when they were like this. Not when they were supposed to 'make love'. Even if Alfred wasn't gay and Isamael and he had a grudge against the other from the first moment they saw each other. "Or make love, whatever."

"I told you, we can't make love because we don't love each other. How's your ass feeling?" He wished he could just pound into it like last time, but they had to do this as if they were lovers. Alfred's stupid selfish request.

Just breathing for a moment, he said with a touch of sarcasm. "Like I have fingers up my ass, what do you think? Then fine, just make sure I can actually walk tomorrow without someone thinking I got banged by a guy or a strap-on."

Taking his fingers out, the Cuban undid his pants and took out his cock, giving it a few strokes to bring it to full erection. Then he quickly put some lube on it, so it would make things easier. He always did that with Matthew, after all.

Wincing at the feeling of being empty and at the sight of Ismael slicking himself up, he muttered. "I hope you didn't cum in Matt... That's fucking disgusting."

"Of course I did. After the first few months, he asked to do it without a condom, and I helped him clean it out after anyway." Matthew had always said that it was fine, since he wasn't a woman and therefore couldn't get pregnant.

"You're fucking nasty. Do everything else except that. Last time was enough of a pain to clean it out. Not to mention just what that shit is." Alfred complained as the cock lined up with his hole. Was it going to hurt any less this time?

Pushing in, Ismael stopped when just the tip was inside. He started kissing Alfred, and they both pretended like it was real.

Responding furiously to the kiss, Alfred grunted in pain as the cock slid further into his stretched hole. Even with how long it took to get him prepared, it still hurt like hell to have something up his ass. "Did it always hurt this much for him?" He hissed, his eyes squeezed shut.

Not wanting to answer, Ismael just stopped pushing in. This was supposed to be like with Matthew, and he would never have let him hurt this much. "Sorry." He muttered, not really sorry but wanting to keep pretending. It kept the pain away for a little while, pretending, but that made it hurt that much more when he came back to reality.

Slowly the pressure relaxed into just a full feeling as Ismael thrust slowly into him. Alfred was somewhat amazed that he was being so gentle with him, so he just stayed silent as his pace sped up. It wasn't until little grunts and moans were passing his lips that he asked. "So were you really this gentle with him?"

Closing his eyes, the Cuban nodded. Damn, the illusion had been broken again. "Of course I was. I loved him. I... still do." He held back a sob as he said the last part, because the wound was just too new, too deep. Would he ever be over this?

"O-Ok..." He stuttered, overwhelmed by the emotion that was all but choking the two of them. Normally he was quite oblivious to feelings, but the look on Ismael's face as he thrust into him was one of pure emotional pain. "I... I'm glad."

It had gotten easier to thrust, so Ismael figured that he was loose enough to do it properly. He knew that if he said anything, his voice would crack and he would probably break down, so instead he just put his head on Alfred's chest, hiding behind his dread locks.

Feeling incredibly awkward with how emotional the atmosphere was, Alfred just shut his eyes and lost himself in the quickening motions. Without meaning to, his hands moved up and held Ismael's head lightly, rubbing his fingertips into the scalp. "I'm sorry."

Taking a shaky breath, the Cuban clenched his hand into a fist. "Don't say it, because you don't mean it. You can't mean it, because you hate me and I hate you." That's how it had to be, because they both hated each other. If that changed, then he wasn't sure what was left in his life.

Gasping as his prostate was brushed, he answered with a shaky voice. "I'm not sorry for you, I'm sorry for Matthew. I didn't expect you to understand."

Trying to ignore what was happening, Ismael let his hand go down Alfred's body, grabbing his cock in a loose grip. He just couldn't deal with this anymore, so he stopped thinking about it. As long as he wasn't alone, he would be alright.

Alfred moaned quietly, glad that his cock was finally being touched and that it made it harder to think about how wrong it was for them to be doing this. Really, he originally wanted to see how Matthew and Ismael made love, but now it had turned into something much more personal than that to him.

Thrusting forward harder, Ismael tried hitting his prostate again. "Damn... I'm cumming..." He tightened his hand, and as he did he felt Alfred's hole contract around his cock.

Moaning as his sweet spot was hit hard and he felt cum shoot inside him, Alfred felt himself release over Ismael's hand and his own stomach. "Fuck..." He whispered, shutting his eyes and resting his head on the pillow.

Panting off his high, Ismael collapsed on him and wrapped his arms around the sweaty body. God damn, he couldn't do this. He just couldn't... but he was. His face was in Alfred's shoulder, so he saw the line of red on the gauze he had put on earlier. "You're bleeding again."

Looking over to it, he just shrugged his not-bleeding shoulder. "Doesn't matter. Don't bother taking care of it." In all honesty, he just wanted to lie there and feel like there was someone that actually cared about him enough to stay with him, even if he was supposed to hate Ismael.

"Fine. I would always hold him after we made love, so just deal with it." He moved to the side so he wasn't on top of Alfred, but he was still holding him close. The truth was he just wanted to fall asleep holding someone, and pretend like it was Matthew.

"Whatever." He couldn't very much say that he wanted Ismael to hold him so he could almost feel like he was loved by someone who didn't leave him after a few times of having meaningless sex. Even if it did make him 'gay'.