Road to Rome

"He's alive," said Antonio, determined to put the most important facts first.Marco was obviously relieved and even smiled, which made the priest reluctant to explain the details.He put his hands on Marco's shoulders, sat him on the bed, brought the chair in front of the desk, and sat down in front of the growing worried audience.

"Your father is alive, and your mother is fine. Both of them are currently being transferred to a safe place under surveillance. Your father's condition is more complicated than expected. He hasn't woken up until today, and the doctor doesn't know what the coma will be. How long does it last. If you want to see the diagnostic opinion, I can ask Father Clement to find a way to forward a copy here. You must really want to contact your mother, but Father Clement asked me to pass it on to you, it is very It's a pity that he doesn't know the address and phone number of the safe house, we can't violate the police's confidentiality regulations. You can tell me the message, and the church will be happy to pass it on to your mother through the police."

Marco stared at Antonio for a long time without speaking, then, unexpectedly, he smiled, the same smile he had given Theodore earlier, neither pleasant nor friendly, a harbinger of an attack, irritating Think of a hyena ready to bite.Antonio couldn't help leaning back on the back of the chair to distance himself.

"Oh, I can assure you that Father Clement knows the address, and that it has nothing to do with secrecy," said Marco, in a low humming tone, which made Antonio even more uncomfortable, " He also wants to continue to control me, to make me understand that the church has my parents in their hands. It will make me do more dirty work in the future."

"I'm sure Father Clement didn't mean that, and besides, the Church never coerces—"

"Father, you and I understand that you are not so naive."

Antonio pursed his lips, looked down at his hands, and felt that there was no need to continue to deny.Father Clement asked Marco first on the phone, repeatedly confirmed that the son of the Costa family was in the monastery, and asked Antonio to "use any method" to ensure that Marco would stay where he was "in the short term".

The bishop's confidants did not specify how many days the "short term" was.

"We... They arranged for a doctor to come tomorrow, the day after tomorrow at the latest. It's best to let him see your wound to avoid any complications."

"I don't need a doctor." Marco replied coldly, standing up, "I need to go back to the city."

"Now? Walk?"

"I'll find my own way."

"You don't even know if your parents are there."

"I don't need you to worry about it for me, Father, thanks."

"Mark--"

Marco shook off his hand and opened the door, Antonio grabbed his elbow again and shouted, "Listen to me!" so loudly that the whole corridor must have heard it.His sudden anger seemed to temporarily scare Marco, and Antonio pulled him back and kicked the door.

"I don't know exactly where your parents are, trust me, if I did, I'd tell you. The church has too many properties, most of which are not publicly registered, plus private places that wealthy believers lend out, even if only in You can't find a city in New York for three years. Besides, if Father Clement hides your parents in Connecticut, or even California, how are you going to find them? You don't want to seriously look for them, Marco Costa , you are like a six-year-old boy, you just want to fulfill your dream of playing a knight, and be a foolish hero, even if you die on the way." When he said the last sentence, Antonio found that his index finger almost touched the horse. Ke's nose is on, and the Irish accent that has been hidden for many years is likely to reveal a small tail. He can't let Marco leave here, "Do you have a plan? Tell me what you plan to do, go back to New York overnight, and then? You After the house was set on fire, how many hooligans are willing to listen to you and accompany you to deal with Bruch?"

Marco was silent, his chest was heaving, he couldn't tell if he was angry or something else.Antonio stared at him, even ready to fight.The two were about the same height, and Marco might have the advantages of size and experience, but Antonio planned to directly attack the gunshot wound on his side, which was disgraceful, but there is no honor to speak of in a fight.Marco pushed him hard against the door, and Antonio hit the back of his head against the wood, and he threw a wild punch, but Marco held his hands firmly.

"What else did your master say, little puppet? Why do you want to keep me here? What is your plan to lock me up too?"

"There's no plan at all, Marco, you're crazy."

"I sometimes forget you're one of them," Marco whispered, close enough for a kiss, but Marco's lips never touched him, "You guys, Lying, scheming, forming cliques, stepping on each other, just to satisfy your own petty ambitions. Never believe what you say, I found out a long time ago."

"What 'ambition'? I don't want to be a part of this at all, I don't even want to know you, I'm just—"

"You are just a messenger. After using the Costa family, you can go to the Vatican. If this is not ambition, I don't know what is."

Antonio wanted to say "these are two different things", and also wanted to argue that "I am different from them", but in the end he didn't speak, because it is difficult for people to "refute" a truth.If it wasn't "ambition" that dragged him out of his dreary little San Francisco apartment and dragged him all the way to the shore of the Atlantic Ocean, instilling a longing for Rome in his eyes and brain, what other explanation is there?

"Mr. Costa, I have neither the right nor the will to prevent you from leaving." Antonio twisted his wrist, managed to get rid of Marco's grip, opened the door, and waved his hand to the corridor, "I am worried about your safety, because I am not you It's not my fault you don't appreciate the kindness, that cunning monster said. Go ahead, Theo will be willing to lend you the car, he's probably asleep now, but his bedroom is next door to the office, just say It's for my sake."

Marco took a step forward, but not to go out, but to close the door.Antonio was grabbed by the collar and fell onto the single bed on the left.No, it wasn't part of the plan, the thought briefly flashed through Antonio's mind, quickly extinguished during the kiss.They tore at each other's clothes, nails scraping bare skin, then lips and teeth.Antonio's shirt was torn into a long rip, leaving only the sleeves still wrapped around his arms. He sat on Marco, unbuttoned his cuffs, flung off the useless piece of fabric, panting, naked, looking down Mark.

"I bet you designed this too." Marco's fingers crawled across his thighs and buttocks, digging into his body, not deep, but Antonio still trembled, "This plan is not very smart, Father, I After fucking you, you can still get out of this damn place."

"Like I said, I don't care, bye, have a nice trip. You should understand that me and my church don't revolve around you—"

Marco rolled over and pressed Antonio into the mattress, spreading his legs apart in order to poke his fingers deeper.Antonio threw back his head and clutched at the pillow, trying not to make a sound.They had become without a doubt the worst guests in the history of the abbey, slamming doors late at night, arguing, and going to bed.These two-to-one bedrooms were originally designed to supervise each other and prevent the clergy from masturbating, but people always found various ways to get around the obstacle.While some choose to "help" each other, others, like Antonio, become very good at keeping quiet.

Marco must have spotted this, and set out to test the limits of this silence.He rolled Antonio over on his stomach on the bed, gripping his hips with both hands and pulling back hard, matching every rough bump.Antonio could hear Marco gasping and growling, which probably turned him on more than the sex itself, his cock was achingly hard, but he couldn't get his hands between his legs or tighten his knees.

"Marco." He managed to squeeze out the name from his throat, buried his face in the pillow, wondering if the other party could hear him.He tried to prop himself up on his elbows, and Marco pushed himself hard into him, put one hand on the back of Antonio's neck, and pushed him down again.Antonio heard himself whimpering, then a low, fitful cry.Marco leaned down, chest pressed against his sweaty back, buried deep, and pushed forward lazily until Antonio made a choking sound before finally taking hold of his erection and rubbing his thumb against the wet top.It didn't take long for Antonio to cum in his palm, shaking, his mind blank.

No kisses this time, not like last time.The two squeezed awkwardly on the narrow single bed, one looked at the ceiling, the other looked at the chair beside the bed, and it took a long time to calm down after breathing.The priest got out of bed without saying a word, and found the barely wearable trousers among the clothes thrown all over the floor. His own shirt was completely unwearable, and Marco's was only missing a few buttons.He pulled on his shirt, draped his coat over his arm, and glanced at his bedmate.Marco rests his head on his pillow, concentrates on studying the ceiling, and is not interested in Antonio at all.

The priest opened the door and went out, walking towards the bathroom through the dim light.In the dark, the corridor seemed wider and taller for some reason than in the morning, giving people the illusion of a train tunnel. Even though there were wall lights on the left and right, the shadows still lingered, like fungi growing on the bricks.Antonio quickened his pace, almost trotting into the bathroom, and turned on the light.Because of the action just now, he could feel Marco's semen dripping down the inner thigh. The priest turned on the tap and waited for the old boiler to heat the water. He leaned against the wall and rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

He took a shower in a hurry, startled by the strange sound of the water pipe vibrating in the wall from time to time, and then fled back to the bedroom the same way.He hesitated for a moment before opening the door, worried that Marco was no longer inside.He stood there, took a deep breath, thought of an excuse to deal with Father Clement, and turned the doorknob.

Marco was still there, apparently asleep, with a blanket covering his belly.Antonio carefully closed the door and walked to the other bed.

"Antonio?"

He froze and cleared his throat: "It's me, I went to take a shower."

"Come here, roommate, it would be hypocritical to sleep separately now."

You lowered the bar for hypocrisy too much.The priest thought, stood there for a while, walked over, and lay down with his back to Marco.Marco put his arms around his waist, his bare thighs pressed against his hips, sighed, and soon fell asleep, breathing slowly and evenly on Antonio's neck.What does it mean?Antonio almost asked, but swallowed the question back.No matter what the answer is, he doesn't want to know.