Chapter 19: La confrontación hipócrita
The air outside the concierge booth was cold, a sharp contrast to the feverish shame that had clung to Javi for days. He stared at the cracked pavement, tracing a weed with the toe of his shoe, wishing the earth would swallow him. Maria’s texts had been relentless, a barrage of righteous fury.
“That fucking pig. We’re going. Now. I’m outside your building. Don’t you dare hide, Javi.”
He hadn’t dared. Now she stood before him, hands on her hips, her huge, round ass accentuated by the tight black jeans she wore. Her face was set in a hard, beautiful mask of anger.
“You look like shit,” she stated, her voice flat. “Did you sleep at all?”
Javi shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “A bit.”
“A bit nothing. You’ve been crying. I can tell.” She grabbed his arm, her grip firm but not unkind. “That ends today. That disgusting old fuck doesn’t get to do that to my friend. You understand? He doesn’t get to make you kneel. He doesn’t get to put his dirty dick in your mouth. No.”
Her words were a shield, a sword. Javi felt a pathetic surge of gratitude, so intense it made his throat tighten. She was defending him. She called him her friend.
“María, maybe… maybe we should just leave it,” he mumbled. “He’s unstable. What if he gets violent?”
“He already was violent!” she snapped, dragging him toward the service yard. “He assaulted you. He fucking sexually assaulted you, Javi! And you just took it? And then you didn’t even tell me? I had to piece it together from you mumbling about feeling sick! No. We’re going to look him in the eye, and we’re going to tell him if he ever comes near you again, we’re going to the police. And I’m going to make sure he believes it.”
Her heels clicked decisively on the asphalt. Javi scurried to keep up, his heart a trapped bird in his ribs. The metal booth loomed, a rusty tumor on the side of the garage. The naked bulb was on, flickering its sickly yellow light.
Maria didn’t knock. She wrenched the door open, the metal screaming on its hinges.
Amancio was sitting on his stool, polishing a wrench with an oily rag. He looked up, slow, a lazy smile spreading across his sweaty face. The smell of gasoline, stale sweat, and cheap tobacco bloomed from the doorway.
“Well, well,” he rasped. “Look what the cat dragged in. The dynamic duo.”
“Shut your mouth,” María said, stepping inside and pulling Javi in after her. She let the door slam shut. The space felt smaller, hotter, charged. “You have something to say to my friend.”
Amancio put the wrench down with a clank. He leaned back, appraising her. His eyes, glassy and knowing, traveled from her furious face down to her chest, lingering, then dropping to the spectacular curve of her hips and ass. He licked his lips. “I do. I’m sorry, Javi. Got carried away the other day. The heat, you know? Makes a man do stupid things.”
His apology was grease on glass. Insincere, smeary.
“Carried away?” María scoffed, stepping forward, putting herself physically between Amancio and Javi. “You forced him to his knees. You made him suck your dick. That’s not ‘carried away,’ you piece of shit. That’s assault.”
“Language, princess,” Amancio tutted, but his smile widened. He enjoyed this. He enjoyed her fire. “He didn’t seem to mind too much at the end. Did you, Javi? You were looking at those photos of your friend’s ass pretty hard while you did it. Almost seemed like you were enjoying the view.”
Javi felt his face burn. “That’s not true.”
“It is true,” María said, whirling to face Javi, her expression softening for a microsecond. “But that’s not the point. The point is you didn’t have a choice. He took your choice away.” She turned back to Amancio, a pointing finger in the air. “You listen to me, old man. You look at him again, you talk to him again, you even think about him, and I go straight to the cops. And I have friends who are lawyers. I’ll bury you.”
Amancio held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay! Jesus, calm down. You’re absolutely right. I’m a pig. A desperate, lonely old pig. You’ve shamed me.” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a clumsily rolled joint. “Look. Peace offering. A little smoke to clear the air. No hard feelings.”
“We don’t want your shitty weed,” María said, but her stance shifted slightly. The direct threat was over. The adrenaline was ebbing. The familiar ritual of sharing a joint, even with him, was a social script she knew.
“It’s good shit,” Amancio insisted, putting it between his lips and lighting it. He took a deep drag, held it, exhaled a cloud that mixed with the booth’s metallic haze. “Come on. One smoke. So we can all be adults here. You can even hold onto it after. Call it reparations.”
He held it out to María.
She hesitated, looking from the joint to Javi’s pale, anxious face. “This doesn’t mean anything. This is just you admitting you’re wrong.”
“That’s exactly what it is,” Amancio said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “I’m wrong. You’re right. He’s your good friend, and I messed with him. Let’s just… smooth things over.”
María snatched the joint from his fingers. She took a drag, coughed slightly, and passed it to Javi. “Here. Might stop your hands from shaking.”
Javi took it. The paper was damp from Amancio’s lips. He smoked, the hot smoke filling his lungs, a momentary distraction from the panic. He passed it back to Amancio, who took it and smiled, his eyes locked on María.
“See? Civilized.” He smoked again, then offered it back to María. As she reached for it, he didn’t let go immediately. His fingers brushed hers. “You know, for a girl so tough, you’ve got real soft hands.”
“Don’t,” she warned, but she took the joint. She didn’t move away.
“I can’t help it,” Amancio sighed, a performance of wistfulness. “Seeing you so fiery, defending your little friend… it does something to me. I’m a bad man. I told you. And that ass of yours, María… goddamn. It’s a miracle. It really is. It makes a bad man forget his promises.”
“You’re disgusting,” she said, but she took another pull on the joint, holding the smoke in. The weed was strong. Javi could feel it already, a fuzzy edge smoothing over the sharp fear.
“I am,” Amancio agreed. He slid off the stool. He was close to her now, very close. The space was so small. Javi pressed back against the shelf of old keys, feeling the cold metal through his shirt. “But you came in here, all that fire, for him. That’s loyal. I respect loyalty. Let me… let me just apologize to you, personally. For disturbing your friend.”
“You already apologized,” María said, but her voice had lost its commanding edge. It was wary, watchful.
“Not properly.” In a movement too quick to counter, Amancio dropped to his knees on the dirty concrete floor. Before María could step back, he buried his face in the denim covering her ass, his arms wrapping around her thighs. “Just… let me show you how sorry I am.”
“Hey! Get off!” María yelped, trying to push his head away. But his grip was like iron. He nuzzled, mouth open, against the firm curve, biting the fabric gently. A shudder went through her. “Stop it! Javi, do something!”
Javi stood frozen. The sight was obscenely mesmerizing. Amancio on his knees, his face pressed into the very flesh Javi dreamed about, worshipped in secret. María’s protestations seemed to melt into the air, becoming part of the booth’s thick atmosphere.
“See?” Amancio mumbled, his voice muffled by denim and flesh. “He knows. He knows this is where I belong. Apologizing. To this magnificent fucking ass. Isn’t that right, Javi? You know this ass deserves an apology.”
“Let her go,” Javi whispered, the command utterly hollow.
Amancio ignored him. He pulled back, looking up at María from the floor. Her face was flushed, her lips parted. She wasn’t hitting him. She was just standing there, trapped by his arms. “One kiss,” Amancio breathed. “One real kiss, and I swear I’ll leave you both alone forever. A proper peace treaty.”
“You’re insane,” María gasped.
“Probably.” He grinned, a grotesque, pleading sight. “One kiss. On the lips. Then you walk out, and I never speak to Javi again. You have my word.”
María looked at Javi, a storm of confusion and something else in her eyes—a flicker of grim, resigned curiosity. The weed hummed in their veins. The absurdity of the situation, the power she had held moments ago, was warping.
“Just a kiss?” she said, her voice low.
“Just a kiss. To seal the deal.” He leaned in, his face hovering near hers. His breath was tobacco and decay.
She glanced at Javi again, a look that was supposed to be reassuring. “It’s just a kiss, Javi. To make him go away for good.”
Then she bent down, just slightly, and pressed her lips to Amancio’s.
It wasn’t just a kiss. It was deep, and hungry from the start. Amancio’s hand came up to cup the back of her head, holding her there. A low groan escaped him. Javi watched, paralyzed, as María’s hands, which had been pushing at his shoulders, stilled. Then one hand gripped his grimy work shirt. She kissed him back.
It lasted an eternity. When they broke apart, a thin string of saliva connected their mouths for a second before snapping. María was breathing heavily.
“There,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to reclaim authority. “Done. Now remember your—”
“You kiss like a fucking angel,” Amancio interrupted, standing up with a groan. His work pants were tented prominently at the front. He undid his belt buckle, the rasp of the metal loud in the silence. “But a deal’s a deal. I’ll leave him alone. But you… you started something. You can’t leave a man like this. It’s cruel.”
“That wasn’t the deal,” María said, but she was staring at the bulge in his pants.
“The deal was you’d leave,” Javi found himself saying, his voice thin.
“And I will!” Amancio said, chuckling. He pushed his pants and underwear down over his hips. His cock sprang free, thick, veined, already fully hard and glistening at the tip. “Right after. But look at me. Your friend did this. With her kiss. You can’t just walk away and let a man suffer, Javi. That’s not what good friends do. She defended you. Now you should help her finish what she started. Be a team.”
He grabbed his dick, giving it a slow stroke. “Just a quick one, María. For peace. You do it so good. You know you do. And Javi can watch, make sure I behave. Since he’s so worried about you.”
The logic was insane, circular, suffocating. María looked from the dick to Javi’s horrified face. “This is so fucked up,” she muttered, but she took a step closer.
“María, no,” Javi pleaded.
“It’s just to get it over with, Javi!” she snapped, a flash of her protective anger returning. “Jesus, don’t you see? If I do this, he’s satisfied. He leaves us alone. Otherwise he’ll keep harassing you! I’m doing this for you, you idiot!”
She said it with such conviction, even as she sank to her knees on the filthy floor where Amancio had just been. She looked up at the concierge, then over her shoulder at Javi. “Don’t watch if it bothers you so much.”
But he did watch. He had to. His eyes were glued.
María took Amancio’s cock in her hand, her fingers not quite meeting around the girth. She spat, unceremoniously, onto the head, then used her hand to spread the moisture down the shaft. Then, with a sharp, almost businesslike motion, she leaned forward and took him into her mouth.
Amancio’s head fell back with a guttural “Fuck yeah.” His hands went to her hair, not forcing, but resting there possessively. “That’s it, princess. That’s how you make peace.”
María worked, her head bobbing. The sounds were obscenely wet, sloppy. She used her tongue, swirling it around the head each time she pulled back. She was good at it. Efficient. Javi felt a devastating arousal clawing at his gut, mingling with the self-loathing so completely they became the same thing.
“See, Javi?” Amancio grunted, his eyes slits of pleasure. “She’s a pro. Defending you with that pretty mouth of hers. You should be grateful.”
“Leave… leave him out of it,” María said, pulling off for a second, a thread of spit connecting her lip to his glistening cock.
“But he is in it,” Amancio crooned. He tightened his grip in her hair, gently directing her back onto him. “He’s always in it. He’s your audience. Your little fan. Aren’t you, Javi? You love watching her, don’t you? You love seeing her like this.”
Javi couldn’t speak. His own traitorous body was rigid, aching.
María picked up the pace, sucking harder, taking him deeper. A gagging sound caught in her throat, but she pushed through it, her eyes watering.
“She’s a fucking champion, your friend,” Amancio moaned. “But you know what? My knees are getting tired. This old body. Javi… come here. Help your friend out. She’s working so hard for you. The least you can do is help her hold me up.”
“No,” Javi breathed.
“Javi, for fuck’s sake, just do what he says!” María gasped, coming up for air, her lips swollen and slick. “Help me get this over with faster! Come hold his leg or something so I can finish!”
The command, framed as a necessity for her sake, broke his last resistance. He shuffled forward, his legs like wood. He stood awkwardly next to Amancio, who promptly grabbed his wrist and forced his hand onto his own hairy, muscular thigh.
“There. Support. Good boy.” Amancio’s other hand was back on María’s head, his hips starting to pump in tiny, shallow thrusts into her mouth. “You two… fuck… what a team. She sucks, you hold. Perfect.”
María dove back down with a muffled whimper, taking him as deep as she could. Her nose pressed into his pubic hair. Amancio’s breath was coming in shorter gasps.
“She’s not gonna last much longer like this, Javi,” Amancio panted. “Going too hard… too fast. She’s gonna make me come. And I really… really… want to come in that sweet mouth of hers. But that’s not fair to you, is it? After how I treated you last time.”
“Don’t you dare come in my mouth,” María slurred, pulling off, a long strand of saliva hanging from her chin.
“Or what?” Amancio challenged, grinning wildly. “You’ll defend Javi? You’re doing a great job so far.” He looked at Javi, his eyes glittering with malice and glee. “Tell you what. For true peace. For no more hard feelings. You help. You get down here with her. You taste these balls while she works the top. A proper double-team effort. Then we’re square. Forever.”
“Javi, don’t you fucking dare,” María said, but she was still on her knees, Amancio’s cock bobbing, wet and red, inches from her face.
“He has to, María!” Amancio insisted, his voice taking on a false, reasoning tone. “Otherwise, I feel bad! It’s imbalance! You’re doing all the work for him, and he just stands there? That’s not friendship. That’s using you. You want him to use you, María?”
“No, he’s not using me, you twisted fuck,” she snarled. But the logic, perverse as