Legend of a Face God

Legend of a Face God 4

Chapter 4- Morocco

He presses deep inside me. Valentine's dick is throbbing. His thrusts fill me up. He's so forceful. He's so masculine. He's a man.

He grabs me by my waist and its me on top of him. He holds me a few inches above his dick. Valentine thrusts up with a vengeance.

"FUCK!"

My mouth waters at the feeling of him inside me. Valentine's big 9-inch dick was something that made you feel out of this world. He had a huge hook to the left. When he fucked me, I could feel my insides constrict around his dick. I am shivering at that moment. My entire body feels so good.

"Damn baby you're so tight," Valentine states.

"Just for you."

Valentine grabs me by my waist. My moaning is loud and aggressive. He pulls me to the wall and presses me up against it fucking me. He throws me on the ground and fucks me on the floor. I am crawling away from Valentine and he's pulling me back.

Just the way I like it.

That's when the door opens!

"WHOA!"

"What the FUCK! Israel!"

My brother covers his face and looks away. I can't believe he just walked into my fucking room at that moment.

"I'm sorry. I thought—fuck...," he says without finishing.

"You thought what?" I ask, "You just walk into my fucking room without knocking? Are you joking?"

"We used to do it back at home."

"We aren't back home Israel. I AM A GROWN ASS FUCKING MAN!"

Israel is playing the dumb card again. He's playing the innocent card with the "Oh I didn't know what I was doing". Sometimes I wonder though. I wonder if he plays dumb just to get under my fucking skin. I was loud as fuck getting fucked by my boyfriend. When I'm having sex with Valentine, I'm always loud. His sex was good...TOO good. I was moaning. He saw Valentine walk into my room. We'd been having sex for hours. Did he think we were just sitting around watching TV or something? Even then why the fuck wouldn't he knock?

"I'm sorry," he responds.

"It's ok," Valentine says.

There it goes. Someone feeling bad for him. You would think if you walked in on two people having sex you wouldn't just sit there and try to apologize. You would think he would respectfully close the door until we finished. But not Israel, he's playing dumb. He's doing what he's good at.

"No it really fuckin isn't...he saw your goods..."

Valentine has a sheet over his package. Israel is covering his face now but I know he had to see Valentine's huge dick. That wasn't something you could miss. The idea of my brother seeing my fiancé's dick makes me sick.

Valentine looks at me, "It was a mistake. Plus we were on like round four. We need some rest. Right Morocco? RIGHT?"

I roll my eyes. I'm more than annoyed. Valentine reaches over me and grabs onto my side and tickles me a little bit. My body quivers a little bit under his touch. I laugh.

"Fine, whatever you say. What the fuck do you want Izzy?"

Israel is looking at the door trying his best not to look in the room as though all of a sudden he found some type of respect, "I know Valentine walks balls. I was wondering if he can maybe show me some videos and talk to me about it."

"You don't know how to use Youtube?" I ask.

"Morocco—stop," Valentine replies.

Israel loved to play the wounded bird and people just loved coming to his defense because of it. Now he was acting like he was too dumb to hop on the computer in the study and use google to find out what he needed to know?

"Why do you even care about balls?" I ask, "Where is this coming from?"

"I joined a house," he replies.

Valentine smiles at him, "Really? I didn't think you were really that interested."

"A member of my house said that you were a star in the ballroom scene," Israel tells Valentine, "I figured. I don't know. I could learn a little bit about the scene from you."

Valentine is quick to have his head gassed up especially when it came to his accomplishments in the ballroom scene. It blew my mind that gay people really thought being well known in the ballroom made them somebody. Laurence was the same exact way.

"I'm pretty well known. I helped build the House of Cavalli to where it is now. You know," Valentine says clearly having his head gassed up, "So yeah. I did a little something something. What house did you join?"

" I joined the house of Balmain."

A stunned Silence fills the room.

I get up off the bed, naked and all and look at my brother, "You joined the house of the same motherfuckers that beat up Laurence? Are you fuckin' joking?"

Valentine finally seems to have my back, "I have to agree with the Boo, Israel. You are new to the city. People don't like the Balmains. They fight a lot. They fight more than they walk balls. You don't need that kind of drama...an innocent guy like you..."

Everyone thought Israel was so fucking innocent. No. He couldn't be. He was doing this to spite me. He HAD to be doing this to spite me.

"They aren't all bad," Israel argues with me.

"THEY BEAT UP MY BEST FRIEND!" I scream in Israel's face.

"YOUR best friend. NOT MINE!" Israel screams back.

I'm not used to him screaming back in my face. He must have learned that trick from the Balmain animals that he's been hanging out with. I'm a little shocked at that moment to be frank with you.

"Bitch...who...do...you...think you're talking to?" I ask him.

I'm not the one. Israel knows that. If anyone knows that I'm not the one to get loud with and start screaming at its Israel. I give him a hard look. I'm challenging him. Just like I assume Israel backs down. He loses eye contact with me. He starts putting on those puppy dog eyes waiting for someone to come save him.

Like always, someone does come save him.

Valentine breaks us up, after wrapping his sexy torso around us with his sheets, "Israel. Go downstairs for a minute. I'll talk to your brother and come down and help you."

"The hell you are!" I respond.

Israel does what Valentine says. Valentine closes the door and looks at me. I know the face he's giving me. He's challenging me. He's the only one who ever really challenged me. Valentine had a way of pacifying me. He had a way of making me weak. He was the only one that could do that to me. Maybe that's why I fell in love with him. Maybe that's why I really started liking him in the first place.

Valentine grabs onto my hands and calms me down, "You terrify the kid..."

"He's not a kid. We are the same fuckin' age."

"I'm not talking about his age," Valentine responds continuing to defend Israel, "He's clearly needs some guidance. You said it yourself. You said he was sheltered."

"He's not as dumb as he lets people believe he is."

"He's not Morocco either," Valentine, responds, "It's clear these Balmain people are taking advantage of him. I mean he's fuckin gorgeous..."

I look at Valentine. What the fuck?

"You think my brother is gorgeous?"

"Well I mean you guys are identical twins. If am attracted to you then clearly yeah...I think he's attractive too. That's not the point. The point is he can be great in the ballroom scene with a face like that. Honestly...so can you?"

"I'm not like that. I'm different."

"And so is he," Valentine tells me, "I can help him. I can guide him in what is right in the ballroom scene. If he wants to do it, he's going to do it. Nothing you say is going to stop him. So let me help him. Ok?"

I hesitate. I'm not going to let Israel get in between my relationship. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of Valentine getting pissed at me.

So I smile pacifying myself for Valentine once again, "Fine."

I watch them from the living room. Valentine and Israel don't even notice me. They are laughing. They seem to be having so much fun. Valentine has been showing Israel videos of balls for hours. He's walking him through all the `categories'. He's walking him through what Valentine calls all the different legends in the ballroom scene. He's explaining things that I don't care about. Faggot bullshit. Its all gay faggot bullshit to me. Valentine was too good of a man to be involved in that kind of a scene. He was too masculine for that kind of shit.

"You playing I-Spy?" a voice says.

I'm not surprised when Laurence comes up from behind me. He sees me peeking into the study. I ignore him walking towards me and head towards the kitchen.

"I'm still not talking to you."

Laurence has been hiding out in his room for days now. Since he was jumped, his face has been healing slowly but surely. He wouldn't leave the house until it healed completely. I knew Laurence. He also knew that I'd be taking care of the bills if he couldn't pay them because he'd been missing his little stripping gigs.

"C`mon. I get the silent treatment?"

"You slept with my brother."

"It was just oral."

"Laurence. I don't need to fucking here this."

"He was on something...hell, so was I. Honestly, I barely remembered. I'm surprised he remembered anything," Laurence explains,

"Israel was HIGH?"

"Don't tell him I told you," Laurence responds.

"Oh...you don't need to be worried about Israel right now," I tell Laurence.

Laurence raises his hand, grabbing me before I can walk away again, "I didn't give it to him. Last person I saw him hanging with was Naomi Balmain."

"She gave my brother drugs?" I ask shaking my head, "And he just fucking joined her house."

Laurence's eyes shoot up, "Wait...Israel is a Balmain now? What the fuck—"

"Where can I find this bitch Naomi?"

"Where do Trannies hang out in the day time?"

"That bitch messes with my family and she'll have me bring out Venus..." I tell Laurence.

=========================================================================

Venus was different from Morocco. Valentine didn't know about Venus. No one really did except Laurence and Justine. I'm standing here with Justine now. She decides to come with me to pull up on Naomi Balmain.

"Girl I've never seen Venus come out in the day time," Justine states.

I pull back my lace front wig. Venus has NEVER come out in the daytime. That is very true. It started a year ago when I was hanging out with Justine. I started to do drag shows. It was just extra money on the side. People just thought I was so fucking gorgeous as a guy but honestly, I didn't want that tied into my professional life.

So I took on another personality. Venus.

No...I'm not a drag queen, not in the most common sense of the word. I don't do this because I was happy. It just so happened that I saw Justine making a LOT of money and hell...one day I was playing in her stuff. And she caught me. Justine fixed me up and she was just shocked. She was just so fucking shocked that I could pass. She looked at my brown skin.

"If I'm going to confront Naomi Balmain, I'm going to do it as a female figure. In case I have to beat her ass...I'd rather not do it as a boy," I tell her.

Venus loved heels. Venus loved gowns. I didn't know much about this day time look. I stuffed a bra with some tissue. I put on a sweater over it and some skinny jeans. I put on the most feminine looking sneakers I could find. I guess I could pass as a real girl. I hoped at least...save my huge dramatic Beyonce wig and maybe even the Beyonce inspired make up.

Here I was pulling up to Virginia's bar. Virginia's was a drag bar that a lot of female figures hung around at in the daytime. Supposedly, Naomi worked here.

Justine is shaking her head, "This is a bad idea. The Balmains aren't the ones to really be fucked with. They protect Naomi like she is made of glass."

"She gave my brother drugs Justine," I tell my home girl.

Justine shakes her head, "You know I got your back regardless. It would be nice if you joined my house though. The house of Armani should be your home. We would have your back. Laurence is in it. I'm in it."

I had heard about the house of Armani from Laurence. It was the biggest house in Philadelphia. Everyone and their mother was an Armani. According to Laurence, it was a bunch of pretty much basic looking people. Laurence liked it because he could stand out in the house. What he didn't like was the fact they never defended him. I'm looking at Justine and I know damn sure that even if I was an Armani no one would help me. She'd lie to get me to join them though. She'd been trying to get me to join them for years.

I shake my head, "I don't do the ballroom scene. I told you that."

"Well ok...so Morocco doesn't like balls. Maybe Venus does. No one has to know the two are the same person. I've seen you walk right past Valentine and he didn't know."

"And he never will."

"Ok. Ok. You're getting defensive...going back into Morocco mode. Let's just get this over with. You can take out your frustrations on Naomi Balmain."

===========

The bitch is beautiful. She's standing behind a bar being a bartender. Naomi is an older queen. She has to be in her mid-30s or so. She looks a lot like Naomi Campbell, which is perfect for her name. She has a Chinese bang. Her cheekbones are extremely high and her nose extremely slim. It's clear she's had plastic surgery done. Strange, I didn't think bartender jobs paid that much.

Justine and I sit at a stool in front of her. She comes over. I must admit that I understand why she was able to drag Israel in especially when I'm up close. Naomi is drop...dead.

"You ladies need something?" she asks me.

Justine just looks at me. I can see it in her eyes. She knows its coming. When I'm dressed up as Venus or not...I'm still Morocco underneath it all.

"I need you to stay away from my brother."

"Excuse me."

"Israel. I need you to stay away from him."

Naomi looks at me for a minute. Almost as though I'm nothing she starts to laugh at that moment, "I knew you looked familiar. You look just like him."

"Twins."

"So you must be the one who took all his muchness."

I look at Naomi a little confused, "Muchness? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"My mother once told me twins complement each other, or at least they are supposed to. Nevertheless, sometimes one twin gets greedy and steals something from another...even in the womb. You stole Israel's voice. He's as quiet as a mouse but here you are walking in here threatening me."

"It's not a threat. It's a warning. Leave. Him Alone."

She smiles.

Naomi stares at me.

"I wonder what he took from you..."

"Excuse me?"

"Why is it you seem so bothered?"

"I'm not bothered by Israel. I'm bothered by you."

She stares at me for a second, "Either way...you're bothered. And telling from how you look in drag...little boy. You should be."

I don't know what comes over me at that moment. This bitch is standing here reading me to my face. I can't take it. It's almost second nature, I lean across the bar, hall back and smack the living shit out of Naomi Balmain.

The entire bar turns around.

Justine's jaw drops, "Fuck..."

Naomi's reaction is to fix her face. After a second or two, she's looking at me. There is something about this bitch I don't like. There is something about her that I just don't fucking trust.

Naomi is just laughing...steadily...laughing.

Justine looks at me at that moment grabbing me and pulling me out of the bar as though we are running from a goddam killer. The look on Justine's face said it all.

What the fuck had I just done? I hadn't just attacked a Balmain. I had attacked THEE Balmain.

Justine shakes her head at that moment, "Morocco. Bitch. Girl..."

She is speechless.

I shake my head, "Let's go home..."

=======================================================================

Laurence is at a party later that week. It's for mostly his house members which just so happens to be way too many gay people in Philly. I've been hiding out. Word around the streets is that the Balmains were looking for me. If I remembered what they had done to Laurence, I knew I was in for something. So that's what I've been doing. I've been hiding out in my room. It isn't until Laurence's party that I realize that I have to get out. I have to socialize. It's at my goddam house for god sakes. What am I going to do? Hide from the Insane Balmains for the rest of my life?

"Where have you been?" Laurence asks.

Justine is right next to Laurence. Justine and I exchange looks. I've asked Justine to keep it between us what happened with Naomi. I know that I crossed the line. I'm thinking about reaching out to Naomi. I'm thinking about apologizing.

"Just chillin out in my room."

"Valentine has been asking about you," Laurence responds, "And you know if he asks me then he has to be a little bit worried."

"I just...needed time to myself."

"Is anything wrong?" Laurence asks.

Laurence raises an eyebrow at that moment.

"No, of course not."

I give Justine a hard look. I don't need anyone knowing what happened with Naomi or to know anything about my business. It's hard enough to get Justine to keep my business personal. The hard look I give her is just to make sure that she doesn't plan on playing a run-tell-that with my business all over Philadelphia. Ok...I had a big mouth. This isn't by far my first beef with someone...but the way everyone reacted to the Balmains was almost like they were afraid of them.

It just made me wonder if I had a real reason to be scared.

Laurence grabs a guy and pulls him over to me just at that moment, "Hey Charles. I wanted to introduce you to one of my best friends..."

The guy Laurence pulls over to me is a bigger guy. I've seen Laurence around him before. I've seen Laurence speak to him often. The man wasn't relatively an attractive bigger guy. He wasn't cute at all in the face and he was way overweight. When he walks over to me, he looks me up and down.

"Handsome," He says.

"This is the one that I was telling you about," Laurence states.

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"Charles here is my house father. Overall Father Armani."

I want to roll my eyes. The room is crowded with people in the ballroom scene. I should have known that Laurence would take the nearest opportunity to introduce me to his house father. He wanted so badly for me to join the house.

"I met your brother. Both of you are beautiful. The two of you would be a FORCE if you walked for the House of Armani," The fat man states.

"I don't do the ball scene," I explain to him.

The house Father looks me up and down, "I see. But your brother does. And he's a Balmain at that. Word on the street is that they're looking for you..."

Fuck. This was getting out of hand. When strangers were coming up to me gossiping about the fact that the Balmains were looking for me things were definitely getting out of hand. I look at this fat man and truthfully, I have little respect. He was the father of the House of Armani. He was supposed to protect his members. Laurence was jumped by the Balmains. I was the one who was sticking up for Laurence. All he could do is hide in his shadows and gossip about the Balmains. He wouldn't put a finger on one of them. Now he's giving me this judgmental look as though I'm crazy for standing up to them.

Morocco doesn't back down, not for no one ever.

Laurence raises his eyebrow, "Looking for what reason?"

"No reason," I respond.

No point in getting Laurence pulled into this. He'd already faced his problems with the Balmains. It was my turn.

Maybe if I talked to my brother about it.

I look over at the big man, "Regardless. It's really nice to meet you. You said that my brother was here?"

"Over in the dining room is where I saw him last with the sexy guy. Don't know if they are dating. They've been talking all night."

Gossip queen. I roll my eyes. That's exactly why I didn't want to join a house. They were gossipers. The drama was way too much. Why this man cared about what my brother was doing and who my brother was talking to blew my mind.

I fake a smile as hard as I can and make my way to the dining room. That is where I see my brother. He's drinking...alcohol. Mind you, Israel doesn't drink alcohol. That's not even the worst part of it. I notice who the person is that my brother has been talking to all night.

It's Valentine.

I walk over there completely thrown off.

"What the fuck?" I ask.

Valentine looks over at me, "What?"

"You came over to my house and you don't even come to my room?" I ask Valentine at that moment.

Valentine looks over at Israel. Israel remains quiet.

"You've been in your feelings—like usual," Valentine, responded, "I reached out to you a couple of times. You wanted to be left alone. So I left you alone."

"Leaving me alone doesn't mean coming to my house and not letting me know that you're here. All of a sudden you best friends with my brother?"

I look over at Israel.

Israel shakes his head, "I don't have anything to do with this. Valentine I'll go get you a drink..."

My mouth drops when I look at him.

"Wooah Wooah Wooah Wooah Wooah Wooah! Ok-ok, Wooah! Holiday, Wait, hold on hold on, Holiday. Bring that shit da fuck back?"

Israel rolls his eyes at me, "Morocco you're being loud. What are you talking about?"

I'm embarrassing him now. My brother was being TOO brand new.

I look him up and down.

"Are you wearing my clothes?" I ask him.

Israel looks down on the ground. I knew my brother. I knew the shirt that he had on. It's not just the shirt. It's the pants. It's the sneakers. Israel's ENTIRE fucking outfit is from my wardrobe. I'm looking at him completely shocked. This boy was sitting around talking to MY boyfriend. He was wearing MY clothes.

Was I tripping?

"I didn't have anything to wear to something like this. I just went in your closet. I just found something really quick."

First, he was walking in on me having sex. Now he was stealing my clothes behind my back without telling me. I'd been home really all for the last couple of days. It's not like I wasn't around for him not to ask me.

"Do you want me to SMACK the shit out of you?" I ask my brother.

Israel gives me a resistant look, "Like you smacked Mother Naomi?"

I can't take it. I want to lean in and just haul off on him. It's taking everything in me not to do it. Valentine must see it too. That's why he stands in front of Israel at that moment.

"Morocco...I told him that it was ok."

"For what?"

"Cause he has no money. Cause you are family. You're twins. You fit the same size. Relax. It's just a shirt and pants," Valentine responds, "You'll survive. Can you stop being such a fucking BITCH sometimes...literally this time..."

People were looking at us. The Armanis were staring. Drama was definitely building up. Valentine was usually the one to calm me down but here he was firing me up. I can't believe he's taking up for Israel. I can't believe that he is defending a thief.

Then there is this undercover intention with his words. The way he is saying literally like that.

"Wait, what do you mean by literally?"

Valentine looks at Israel, "Nothing."

"Don't look at him, talk to me. What do you mean by literally Valentine?"

"Israel found some other clothes in your wardrobe," Valentine tells me, "When were you going to tell me that you did drag?"

I look at Israel. That's the shit I'm talking about. He's cowering in the background. He did the same thing growing up. He'd set me up and then stand in the background for other people to do his dirty work. He never had the balls to call me out.

First, he steals my clothes and then he finds my drag stuff and tells my FIANCE what he found.

He's looking dumb right now.

I can't do anything but laugh at this point "Bitch..."

I look over at Israel. He got me. He really got me. I brought him here to HELP him. I brought him here to pull his faggot ass out of the closet so that he wouldn't be so depressed back home reading bibles for fun. Now this is how he repaid me.

Here he was sabotaging my fucking relationship.

Valentine shakes his head, "It's not about him. This is about the fact that you do drag, Morocco. What The Fuck."

I'm mad right now. I'm beyond mad.

"Stop defending him Valentine. I mean it. You're MY boyfriend. I'm going to need you to stop defending him."

"Or what?" Valentine asks, "You are keeping secrets from me. You're the one wrong. I told you honesty is very important to me. I did not start dating a drag queen. I did not get engaged to a drag queen. I got engaged to a fucking man."

That's it.

The faggot ass Armani house wanted a show? They were all gathering around being nosy. They wanted a show?

I was going to give them a motherfucking show.

I look over at Valentine and laugh in his face, "A man?"

"You know what that is right?" Valentine asks.

"Oh yeah. I know what a man is. Do you?" I ask, "The fact that you are boxer who loses all his fights can hardly pay his bills. And I'm the little girl who was there for you picking up your motherfucking slack. So maybe you should wear a motherfucking skirt and a wig Valentine. Because honestly I think you're the BITCH in our relationship."

"Morocco Mableton. He always says it like it is, huh?" Israel asked, shaking his head.

I'm pissed and even though my blood is boiling, I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Valentine's pride meant everything to him. These people in my apartment were his peers. They were in the ballroom scene with him. Whispers are already starting.

I've embarrassed him. I've found that little manhood he's holding so tightly too and snatched it away from him.

It's not that he embarrassed me in front of the folks in the ballroom scene. I was mad at the fact that he took my brother's side in this shit.

Valentine's eyes stare at me. They stare dead at me. There is pain there. Valentine rarely shows his pain but right now, he's wearing it on his fucking sleeve.

I know the words are coming.

Still...they hurt when Valentine opens up his lips and says it.

"It's over between us, Morocco."

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