ᶠÚᵗᵇᵒˡ Oɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs ⎳⎳

Unholy (Neymessi)

Messi is out with his friends in a club fairly a far distance from his house- enough for the media to never suspect a thing while he's here to get his mind off of things he doesn't want to work his mind on.

He's always been religious- with a great belief in Jesus and God. Boozing off with his friends in a gay cabaret is something that he never though he'd see himself doing when he was younger- but well, there's barely anyone who's lived up to their own expectations for the least. Life is a roller coaster, as they say. Moreover, he has all the riches to himself. What else does he have to be bothered about?

He's old enough to make his own choices but, well- maybe a bit too old to be sitting and sipping on whiskey and staring at a boy much younger dance to the music in the background- in clothes that's putting his slim and alluring figure on full display through the fine mesh shirt he has on,- that's making him question his sexuality.

And he doesn't realize that his grip on the glass had come loose, while his lips slightly ajar. Aguero snickers and shuffles his seat closer to his friend, throwing a hand round his shoulder, adverting his attention.

- "I see someone's got you hooked,"

Messi's cheeks flush into a bright hue of red, leaving Aguero to laugh as he manages to take a closer look at the boy Messi was staring at.

How Messi's eyes seemed to be glued onto the boy as his hips swayed to every beat of the music while the few accessories jingled as his hands moved and gripped at the pole- it all made sense now.

His collarbone is pertruding from his chest as there's nothing that's covering his beautiful bronze skin underneath the fine mesh shirt. There's a black strap around his neck, thigh high socks occupying his legs and black panties the only peice of clothing providing his manhood with some sort of coverage.

He's wearing high heels, swinging around the pole, his ass on complete display to all the men sitting on the barstools and on the couch nearer to the pole- their eyes pooling with lust as the boy doesn't dare to make eye contact.

Aguero has a keen sense, fortunately- so he observes for a few minutes with great attention to the boy's face. He doesn't want to turn to the audience as much, trying his best to perform without having to face everyone. And even when he does- it's only a few seconss before he turns to his side again. And Aguero is quick to use those few seconds to mentally note that: this boy isn't like others, and that he's shy. More like he's nervous to turn and meet with the eyes of men who're much older than him- looking at him with eyes filled with the type of excitement he's not as well accustomed to.

And so he leaves the small stage, a few of the men beginning to boo. Messi's eyes had been shining like the brightest star in the sky, but the moment the boy left- the spark began to subside, as if clouds beginning to hover over the stars.

- "Hey man, don't loose hope just yet. Look there."

Aguero eyes at another corner where the same boy is standing- and just when he thought Messi could steer with his path clear ahead- a red flag. A guy started to walk to his direction.

Aguero knows damn well Messi isn't gay, and neither is he a dirty much of a man. But Aguero knows- his very best friend is indeed, a sex god. But he will never admit it. Well at least, tonight he might.

Even though Messi comes from a religious family and has never done anything beyond drinking or normally partying with his friends- he's one to do the unexpected. And that's what exactly Aguero is trying to make Messi do tonight.

Something very, very unholy. Sinful. Forbidden in his religion.

But he's a grown man now, free to do whatever he wants. There is no real justifiable or purposeful reason to what Aguero's intention is on making Messi do with the boy, but judging by how Messi's eyes had never left the boy's sight since they'd arrived- Aguero might as well go on with whatever sinful plan that's going in his mind.