Locked Away (GerIta)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

~

Feliciano walked the long journey back to his apartment where Romano was waiting for him on the couch. He sat beside him and his twin brother bombarded him with questions.

"Why were you out so late? There's a cut on your brow, what happened? Where were you?" Romano asked angrily.

"I was taking the shortcut home and then there was a soldier and he thought I had been stealing from the market so he stopped me and pushed me against a wall but I'm fine! Another nice German soldier saved me!" Feliciano assured his brother.

"You have to be careful!" He shouted. "You've already been confronted so many times, Feli! We came here because we thought it would be safer than Rome which was crawling with those executors! Feliciano, you bastardo*! You have to stop talking to them. I don't care if they save you, do not talk to them!"

Feliciano flinched, tears pricking at his eyes. He hated when Romano yelled at him. He was old enough to make his own decisions but his brother treated him like a child.

"Shut up." Feliciano snapped and stormed into his room, slamming the door behind him and falling to his knees as he sobbed.

He hated when he was just seen as a small, naïve little boy to Romano. It was always like that.

Be careful, Feliciano. Don't fall, Feliciano. Don't talk to them, Feliciano. You'll get hurt, Feliciano. I don't care what your opinion is, Feliciano. Listen to me. I set the rules. You can't do that. You're weak and frail.

For crying out loud, he was 20 years old; old enough to drink, to go out by himself, to have sex, to live his own damn life. He screamed into gritted teeth and climbed into his bed. The Italian hugged the blanket to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn't want to be controlled anymore. He would do what he wanted, when he wanted and Romano would have no say in it. His first act of rebellion would be to talk to the German soldiers. He already knew two things about a certain one named Ludwig.

He worked at Auschwitz and his day off was Sunday. Feliciano was thought to be rather dumb and brainless but he acquired this information in about ten seconds flat.

He knew that Ludwig was at Auschwitz because that was the only concentration camp around here. He figured his day off was Sunday because soldiers only came into town on their free days. It was simple.

He also knew one more thing.

Ludwig was very, very handsome.

~

Feliciano ignored Romano for the rest of the week. It was hard to completely cut him out of his life and just pretend he wasn't there because he was the only person that truly cared about him. They weren't just brothers; they were the best of friends. Even though Romano would yell at him for his oblivion, they loved each other to death.

Feliciano worked the night shift  at the local bar on every night of the week and he got Saturday off. The income was low but with his and his brother's equally low income, they could get by. They were lucky to have enough food to eat everyday, clean water, and decent clothes. His boss provided the waiters with uniforms and they were probably the nicest clothes he owned.

A crisp white dress shirt, tapered black trousers, a thin black tie and leather dress shoes. He didn't complain and was grateful for the free uniform. Truly, his boss was a very generous man but couldn't afford to pay a decent salary. He was glad he just had something to do and he could contribute to their meager earnings.

The bad thing about working at the bar on the night shift were the lustful men. Older men. The only reason that males hit on him was because one of the other men he worked with named Stefan had become close with him. One Monday night when there were no customers, they'd been bored and Stefan suggested a game of truth or dare. Well, bad idea.

Stefan had asked what the Italian's deepest secret was and he thought he could trust his fellow coworker but he was wrong. He'd told him that he was gay and Stefan didn't say anything until the next day to almost everyone in the damn bar.

Now, the creepy men that came into the place - straight and gay - would hit on him. They said he had a beautiful face and Feliciano had heard very vulgar things they would say about him;

He's thin but they work the hardest, I'd get him to ride me all night... I will find out what is under those clothes... I'd make him scream so loud the Nazi's would think I was torturing him...

Well they were torturing him; with their seductive tones, rude and explicit thoughts, the not-so-subtle looks they gave him, those lustful eyes scanning over him, the small touches he would receive when reaching across the table to get their empty beer mugs. It was all so disgusting and he couldn't take the harassment.

Sometimes his boss would tell them off and kick them out of the pub but he wasn't always present at those moments. Feliciano knew he couldn't quit the job though; no one else was hiring. It was difficult to get a job and he was very lucky to land this one while Romano worked everyday at a butcher shop, packaging meat for customers.

He just wanted those men to stop. Stop everything they said, did and thought. He didn't care if they kept their opinions to themselves but hearing all those dirty ideas made him shudder. They all just wanted him as a sex slave; someone they could use for their own entertainment, a person who was nothing but an innocent-looking boy who could fulfill their filthy desires.

Feliciano wanted to be appreciated, cared for. He wanted his partner to laugh with him and cry with him; someone whose heart would beat faster when he kissed them. A person that would hug him and make him smile and blush, cuddle him on cold nights, take care of him when he was sick, someone who would make love to him with gentleness and concern themselves with the way he felt too, not just their own guilty pleasures. Someone who could show him their feelings openly and accept his quirks and flaws.

The fragile-hearted Italian wanted to find someone he could reciprocate all these things to. He wanted to hold and kiss them with everything he had. He wanted to give his whole self to them in every single way.

He just wanted to be loved.

~

Translations

Bastardo - Bastard (Italian)

~

To be continued...