Francesco looked around with wary eyes. He had been given a set of fresh clothes which consisted of a t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and one pair of snickers, and then forced into the chopper, next to a bunch of other boys who looked no older than him. He hadn't been in juvie much, so, in his mind, he thought he didn't belong there, but no one cared what he thought about it, anyway.
He stood on a long bench, at a safe distance from the others. From the short time he had been institutionalized, he had gathered as much that on the inside, everyone wanted to either fuck you or fuck you over. He wasn't in the mood to strike any alliances with the bunch of randos he had been forced with for the time being.
Once they got to their destination, he needed to take a hike and hide. He would have to find a way to survive, and hell, he didn't plan on going down without a fight.
"Hey," the guy across from him called.
Francesco had a mind to ignore him, but he didn't want to get into a fight just yet. He looked at the other. This one seemed a bit older. He could be twenty, and he had strong shoulders and muscles. His t-shirt stretched across his torso, showing strong pecs. Francesco let his eyes linger a bit too much and caught himself.
He looked up and noticed the full plump lips, deep blue eyes, and blond hair, cut military style. If it weren't for the hard jawline, he would have mistaken the dude for some teenage heartthrob. It didn't matter that the guy looked strong. His mouth would be full of cock by midnight if he didn't hide, like Francesco.
"Hey," he replied and parted his legs to appear more impressive.
He was normally developed for his age, but he didn't have muscles like the guy across from him.
The stranger cocked his head to one side and offered his hand. "I'm Karl."
"Francesco," he said and took the offered hand. Maybe it wasn't so bad to team up with someone else, especially one who looked like he could handle himself.
"Italian, huh?"
He nodded.
"What do you say about me and you getting together?"
Francesco didn't like the smirk Karl threw him. There was something disingenuous in it. And what the hell did he mean, getting together?
"You know, like a team, so that we can survive down there."
Francesco nodded, trying to look indifferent. "Sure."
"Now, take a look around," Karl said. "Who else should we take with us?"
Francesco didn't like to stare, but under Karl's scrutiny, he began to scout their traveling companions. At the end of the opposite bench stood a guy who looked like a giant. There was an instant lump in his throat when he looked at him. He had huge forearms covered in black hair and a stern expression on his face. He didn't have to pretend he was impressive. Most probably the reason why he had to spread his legs was because of the huge package between them. Francesco continued to stare, unable to look away. There was an unmistakable bulge there, easy to spot even from a little distance. His mouth watered, and he licked his lips.
The giant met his eyes, making him turn his head.
"That guy, huh?" Karl looked, too. "Go talk to him. Ask him if he's game."
"Why do I have to go?"
"Italians know how to talk to people."
"It's a basic human skill," Francesco shot back.
"No shit." Karl sneered. "Go, Cesco, chop-chop."
"Don't call me Cesco. And what am I? Your servant or something?"
Karl's sneer twisted his lips. "Don't be a spoilsport. Just go and talk to the guy."
Francesco considered for a moment, but then he got to his feet and walked wobbly until he reached the giant. "Hey," he said.
The chopper swerved, and he ended plastered against the giant. The guy grabbed him and placed him on his knee. Francesco felt his blood rushing to his head, and then down between his legs. He could smell the giant, and he smelled like a man.
"Um," he started, "me and Karl over there are wondering if you'd like to team up with us once we're down."
"Only the three of us?" the giant asked.
"Yeah," Francesco said.
"No. We're taking everyone."
