CHAPTER TWO: THE NEW WORLD

Damian Caldara’s POV

Where the hell did he go? Where’s my baby?

My heart pounds rapidly.

My sense of reason is about to leave me. For a second, I think I made the worst decision coming here. That everything is one enormous mistake. Then I hear running water. The shower.

“Ahh.” I breathe a sigh of relief. What the hell is wrong with me? I rehearse in my head. It feels ridiculous, this much fear over a guy just taking a shower.

Then I come to a realization, that self-awareness that comes to one’s consciousness. I am hooked. That is the kind of hold he has on me. One little action from him could break me. His absence could shatter me.

The water stops. A few minutes later, he steps out with a towel wrapped around his body, steam rising behind him.

“You’re awake,” he says, drying his hair. “I was going to bring you breakfast.”

“You disappeared,” I mutter.

He laughs softly. “You’re dramatic in the mornings.”

No, I wasn’t. Not until I met him. He crosses the room, sits beside me, and kisses my cheek, warm and sweet.

“Today,” he says, “we start our new life.”

He strolls from the bathroom door and glides seamlessly into my lap. “How could you survive a day here without me? You would literally die.”

His words are sarcastic, but I feel a dark sense of danger underneath. A harmless threat.

But his next action totally erases my memory. He uses the remote to turn on soft sensual music as he begins to grind on my lap slowly.

The rod underneath my trousers gets hard suddenly, but he does not stop. He grinds until I begin to let out soft moans, then he turns and stares directly into my eyes.

His gaze greatly unsettles me. He whistles his hot breath all over my neck and takes my ear directly into his mouth. He licks my ear clean as his warm breath sends me unspeakable pleasure.

“Please stop,” I beg in the heat of sexual arousal, but he goes all out. Standing up, he pulls off my pants and plays with the rod underneath.

“Ahhhh!” I scream in pleasure.

And in one gulp he puts it in, the full length of my thickness into his mouth.

The deepthroat leaves me breathless as he holds my rod in his mouth for fifteen long seconds that feel like eternity.

The warmth of his tongue. The tight way he sets up his mouth to swallow my cum. Every second sends loads of pleasure to my brain.

I beg loudly, “Pleeeeeease don’t stop.”

Then he begins to stroke it and suck slowly, sporadically increasing his pace with every stroke.

“Daaaaaaamn,” I cry out.

But he doesn’t stop. With a loud moan, I release loads of cum into his mouth.

He holds my full length for a long time inside his mouth, letting me enjoy the warmth and the pleasure, and when I am done releasing, he licks everything clean.

After an intense moment, I collapse on the bed like a dead man, forgetting we ever had any conversation.

Promise me you’ll never leave me, he whispers into my ears, I didn’t understand the meaning of his question,

But I nod anyway. Because he is all I have now.

…………

We move to a small apartment.

One bedroom. One manageable refrigerator. One window. I look out at a noisy street filled with vendors yelling prices in a language I barely understand.

I am not sure I will ever get used to this place. I have never lived anywhere like it.

But Caleb?

He blends into the environment like he grew up here. He negotiates lower prices for furniture found in a corner store. His charming smile and enthusiasm are something unique about him. They get the owner to give him a discount, the same disguise he uses to convince the landlord to knock off fifty dollars from our monthly rent just by smiling.

I should have seen the signs.

But all I see is a guy who makes survival look effortless. By afternoon, we have a mattress on the floor, two chairs, and a peeling dining table we buy for the equivalent of five dollars.

“We’ll make it ours,” he says.

I almost believe him.

Finding work is the hard part. My father always said, “Money is easy to gain when people know your name.”

I never truly believe him until I step into society on my own. Then I realize the bitter truth. Nobody cares about me in this foreign city. Love is not enough. I have to make it, not just to fend for myself, but to take care of my lover.

I will not let joblessness yank my everlasting love from me. But here, my name means nothing.

The first place I apply turns me away because I do not have local ID. The second does not like my accent. The third does not trust a man with no references. At the fourth, the manager asks if I can carry heavy boxes. I answer yes straightaway. He does not believe me.

By evening, I come back exhausted, not from rejection, but from humiliation. For the first time in my life, I am a nobody. A shadow of myself, wearing cheap clothes and carrying hopes like a mirage on the highway.

Immediately I return to the apartment. I spot Caleb sitting by the window, legs crossed, scrolling through his phone.

He does not look up. “How did it go?” he asks.

“I didn’t get anything,” I reply.

He hums. Not sad. Not disappointed. Just neutral.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says simply, but the way he says it feels like a courtesy.

…………

I lie down to rest, but barely ten minutes into my nap, his phone rings. He rushes to the bathroom and takes the call.

He speaks in whispers, but I can clearly hear the words.

“He doesn’t suspect a thing… He thinks I don’t know about the extra funds… Don’t worry. I’ll get him to confess sooner or later… I love you.”

The words slice through me like a sharp dagger, yet I lie still and pretend I hear nothing.

Do I suspect him? Was I wrong to eavesdrop on his phone call? How does he even know about the extra cash I took for security? Sleep abandons me completely.

Ten minutes into the night, we decide to take a stroll.

His next series of actions only deepens my confusion, forcing me to question every doubt that took root in me after that call.

That night, we explore the city. Narrow streets lit by yellow lamps. Shops squeezed between old dilapidated buildings.

Strangers laughing. People arguing. Countryside individuals living their lives.

It feels weird and exciting at the same time. The experience of freedom. Seeing people walk about hustling.

I have always been in the shackles of duty. Taught daily to be perfect. Groomed to take over the family business and family name.

It is my first time living as a common man. No hired servants running to my beck and call. Nobody willing to set themselves up to make me comfortable.

But I feel a peace within me. At least I am at peace with my eternal love.

Or maybe it is an illusion.

Caleb holds my hand the whole time, guiding me through the crowd, pointing out restaurants and street vendors like he has been here for ages.

“See?” he says. “A fresh start isn’t so bad.”

I wish I can believe him but his familiarity with the foreign country sends me chills.

That evening, after strolling around, we stop by a mini restaurant that sells grilled chicken on sticks. He buys for both of us, speaking the language fluently. This singular act surprises me.

“You know the language?” I ask.

He remains indifferent. “I learn fast,” he replies.

Another sign I do not understand.

The vendor hands us the food, and we eat while walking. The smoke mixes with the night air, and for a moment the world feels small and kind. In this moment, I enjoy the decision I made to leave with Caleb.

Though suspicious of his actions, I relax with the knowledge that my world is secure with him in it.

Then it happens. A man bumps into him. Not by mistake, but with purpose. His eyes linger too long.

“Careful,” he says in a tone that is not careful at all.

I step forward immediately. “Watch where you’re going.”

The man smirks. “Relax. I was just passing.”

“You touched him!” I reply, clenching my fist.

“You piece of shit, holding hands as if you are a couple. An embarrassment to society. I’ll touch him or her again, whatever the fuck that means if…”

I do not think. My fist connects with his jaw before I can stop myself. He stumbles back, spitting blood.

“For someone who looks broke,” he growls in disdain, “you’ve got an expensive punch.”

Caleb grabs my arm. “Damian, stop. Let’s go.”

The man stares at us as we leave, his expression somewhere between fury and curiosity.

“Those gay assholes,” he mutters.

Fear creeps into my loins.

Not for me. For him.

How am I going to protect this man so precious to me?

For the first time since leaving home, I realize how vulnerable we really are.

…………

Later, in our apartment, he bandages my knuckles and dresses the wound.

“You shouldn’t pick fights,” he murmurs.

“He disrespected you.”

“And what? You’re going to fight every man who looks at me?” he asks, clearly showing frustration.

“If I have to,” I boast.

He stops, eyes locked onto mine. “Damian. We can’t draw attention. We’re supposed to be invisible here.”

The way he says we again. Something in it feels heavier. He finishes wrapping the bandage, then leans his head against mine. The warmth from his breath, his chiseled chest and bulging nipples, caress my chest.

“I need you safe,” he whispers. “You’re all I have.”

My chest tightens. My heart feels warm. His words are like the morning star, sweeter than honey in a honeycomb. He knows exactly which words turn me soft. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper back.

He kisses me slowly, deeply, gratefully.

As our kisses begin to intensify, we hear a pounding on the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” Caleb asks.

“I literally have nobody here. I can’t say the same for you,” I reply, staring at him suspiciously.

The pounding intensifies as I rush to check through the peephole. There he stands.

The strange man from the market. The one I punched. How the fuck did he trace our little apartment? And what does he want with me?