He felt almost childish, almost like a fool, and he wasn't sure how many times he'd scolded himself about just how much of an idiot he was being… but in the end, it hadn't changed anything. To be fair, he didn't know if anything would- because as much as he felt like a petulant child, inadequate and desperate whenever his Godfather was so much as mentioned, it didn't change the fact that… he kind of was.
It was embarrassing. It was stupid. It was something that he couldn't help and… and it just wasn't fair. Or maybe it was, really, because nobody was closer to Carmine than he was, nobody knew the Godfather the way he did, and that was something that wasn't about to change. Because he was the favourite for a reason- even if he felt like a fool for it.
He loved him.
The Mafioso had known since the moment he'd laid eyes on Carmine, matched his own dark ones with those icy blue orbs. He remembers how his breath had caught that day- and how it had been catching just as much almost everyday since. He felt like a mess, wanted to scream and just melt whenever the Godfather so much as spoke to him. The touches were even worse- he couldn't keep his skin from tingling and his heart from panging whenever the man rested a hand on his shoulder or smoothed it over his cheek. It made him want to cringe, so stupid and weak and sensitive. He felt like a teenage girl, the type who had a crush on their high school English teacher for four years and didn't say a thing about it even though it was blatantly obvious to everyone.
That didn't keep his cheeks from heating to a bright pink as the Godfather looked him in the eye and spoke, words that Julian wasn't even sure he'd caught, a glance that almost made him want to look away at how… intense it was. How omnipotent. And it was ridiculous- Carmine was an old man in comparison to him. But for some reason… he craved his touch more than anything else in the world. Craved that contact and those stares…
He just wanted to make him happy. But more than anything, pleasing the Godfather just made the Mafioso into more of an obsequious mess. And it was embarrassing. It was… weak. Submissive. Foolish.
But he needed him. Him. No one else.
Carmine barely lifted a brow at the blushing mafioso, before sighing and looking back down at his paperwork. Whatever the mafioso was thinking was lost to the Godfather. He couldn't quite say that he didn't care, but he also had to admit that he was curious. More or less, he just didn't have the energy to rack his brain for an answer.
If the Mafioso felt the need to share what was on his mind, he figured, he'd share it with him eventually.
His eyes danced across the paper, barely taking in what it said. The words all seemed to run together- untrustworthybackstabbergossipysnitchfilth. It wasn't the first time it had done so, of course not. Almost every document he had read all seemed to read all ended up looking the exact same in the end. Their faces staring back at him, betrayal just threatening to leak from their eyes but prevented from to with forced smiles that was stained with blood from them biting back insults and vulgarity.
Perhaps he'd been here for too long, all alone at the top with no one to trust or confide in about his paranoia of every single mafia member that has and will work for him. Except for him- his beloved mafioso. Julian would never.. he hoped. The boy had worked underneath them for so long, lapping at his feet like a puppy that begs to be noticed and loved. He'd grown so fond of him, it'd be such a shame to have to have him killed.
Carmine barely noticed what he was signing, only that he had to sign his name. Whether it was to have him tortured and executed, or to add him into the mafia. It didn't quite matter to him anyway- or at least, he couldn't figure out a reason to really care.
If he was a traitor with the sole reason to live being to bring down the mafia and kill him, let him. He had some confidence in his men to bring down the man. (he hoped he would; he craved something to ease his boredom.)
Once had finished, he motioned for the member to leave with a simple nod of his head. Turning his attention to the Mafioso, he asked, "Julian, what else is on my schedule today?"
(God, he prayed and hoped for something interesting.)
"Well, you see… the… uh, Gioia moved something… so you… that is to say, I mean… I c-could keep you busy if… if you need but… there isn't…" the Mafioso sucked in a breath, trying to pull himself together, hands smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt before he finally settled on, "You… have a clear schedule, sir. Is there anything that you… need to be taken care of? I'm free." Always free for you, he added mentally, giving a little startled cough as he matches eyes with the Godfather.
He can already feel the abrupt shaking in his legs as he tries to stay upright, because goddammit this is not the time to be romanticizing the situation, you fucking lunatic and why the hell are you so shaky- stopstopstop!
He sucked in a breath and looked at the Godfather again, using a finger to push up the wire framed glasses that were sliding down on his face, before relaxing with a shaky sigh.
"Forgive me for saying, sir, but you look… hassled. Er… stressed. Is there anything I can do? I just…" Just what? Wanted to make him happy? Wanted to keep him company and just… be around him? Yeah, because that wasn't fucking weird. He exhales, looks to the chair, wondering if he should sit or not…
"I mean… I can leave if you'd rather, Godfather, sir."
The Godfather ran his fingers through the remaining bits of his hair, massaging the soft spot of his temple, giving a soft sigh as he tried to think of what to say to the younger boy. He grew increasingly tired of his stuttering, submissive pattern. Carmine could never stood why he was like this- he was constantly at the top, in one of the highest positions a man could ever be in. It constantly bugged him on why he was so weak.. at least he was loyal.
Perhaps he would ask him to leave.. let Julian and himself get some rest, they were both always so stressed and worried.. maybe some rest would help them calm down. No- there was work that needed to be done and in a timely manner. Unfortunately. "No, you may stay," he motioned for him to sit down, pointing down to the chair close to him. "Please, Julian.. take a seat."
His fingers nervously tapped at the desk, looking up at the man once more. He shook violently, like he was about to be punished. Amusing as it was, he didn't enjoy watching the boy shake. Since he was his first hand, the man that reported to him everyday without question, he'd need to grow a backbone. Any sign of confidence would be nice, actually. Even just a sliver of it.
"You're not in trouble," he finally said after several moments of complete silence. "Please, stop shaking."
Carmine almost hoped he'd find a reason to respond, other than I'm sorry sir or I-I apologize sir, I-i'll see to it that I-I try to stop. Even just simple, inane topics would please him. He couldn't stand the silence. They rarely had a moment to speak, and it was always interesting to watch Julian hang onto every word. It was rare to find anyone to speak to that didn't seem to desire to betray him and take their spot on his throne.
"Julian.. do you think Gioia is busy right now?"
He couldn't keep his hands from shaking, but the comment at least managed to relax him somewhat, as he sucked in a breath and looked up at the older man, with a barely audible "Apologies, I wasn't... wasn't thinking, sir. I just..."
He tried to turn his attention away, fingers scratching at the skin of his wrist absentmindedly, shutting his eyes briefly. He tried to focus on- on anything else. The scent of aged wine or the sounds barely audible through the wall... or what Carmine had just said.
"Why the fuck- I… I mean… um." He choked back a breath; he hoped it wasn't obvious, just how irritated the thought of the Consort with his Godfather made him, but he was already shaking again, trying to shut his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. If… if Gioia had been touching his Godfather, he swore on his fucking life-
"She's… I can only imagine how busy she is, sir. And how busy you are… don't worry. I can… I can leave. Just… I don't want to bother you. I-I guess… I can find her for you. Or anyone. Anyone at all."
"Pity."
The Godfather sighed, annoyed and a bit upset that she wasn't available. Gioia was always such a pleasure to be around, so sweet and thoughtful. Even if she was basically reduced to just a whore, she was one of his favourite people to be around. Her soft, small hands on his, gently tracing the faded scars on his hands and chest with sweet words and promises of pleasure.
"I've grown rather attached to the young girl," he looked back down at his empty desk. "See to it that she comes into my office at once, please."
"Julian," he looked back up. "I'd like to be alone now."
He wants to be alone? The Mafioso couldn't help cringing at that, internally cursing himself with words he wasn't even sure he'd used before, because fuck he'd ruined everything all over again and-
There was no fucking way that Carmine didn't know. He was… he was avoiding bringing anything up, but he couldn't deny the urge pushing against his chest, like a sudden and intense weight from a load as heavy as bricks. He wanted to choke, but to be fair, he already had. And that was it… he felt like a pathetic child, being scolded for some inadvertent trouble he'd caused….
Did the Godfather even care about him? Did he… did he even think of him the way his Mafioso wished he would? Was he- did anything even fucking matter?
He had to press fingers into his temples, staring down at the floor in an attempt not to let himself get overwhelmed. His head was aching, almost fearfully, wondering just what he should do if… if he wasn't needed. If Carmine didn't want anything from him. Maybe he should… leave. Kill himself. Commit mass murder. The scenarios were endless, really.
Fuck them, he thought, his hands clenching into fists. None of them care about the Godfather the way I do- nobody else fucking deserves him-
"You know that I'd kill anyone for you, sir?" He asked, but without a response, simply stood, pushed the chair back in and turned away. He was shaking again, Julian noted, but this time it was from the sheer intensity of… of his envy, rather than anything else. "Just… e-excuse me. I'm sorry, okay? I c-can't… yes. Sir. I mean… I'll get Gioia for you. Anything else that you want?"
"No, you're dismissed." The Godfather leaned back, closing his eyes and spinning his chair around until the back of his chair is completely turned away from the uncomposed mafioso. "Thank you, Julian."
The mafioso spluttered, saying something that he didn't quite understand and slammed the door behind him. He sighed again, digging his fingers into his scalp. If he wasn't already concerned about his hair life expectancy, he was now, seeing as he had been repeatedly running and pulling at his hair to keep himself calmed. All he really wanted for today was to be calmed down by Gioia and then finish whatever repetitive paperwork that he had to work over.
Leaning back into his chair, the Godfather wiped his eyes. He wondered if anything would happen anytime soon; something exciting, something that he can focus his energy on for a little while.. something to brighten his and his mafia members moods up, to keep them on their toes, and ready. Even the jumpy mafioso would enjoy something happening, he hoped at least.
He had to bite down on his lip the second the door swung closed behind him, entirely too sure that, were a word to escape his mouth, it would be a curse, a scream, an insult because nobody else, nobody else should be allowed, fuck, fuck, fuck-! As ridiculous as it was, he just… he just couldn't hold back that intense, overwhelming rage that bubbled up in his chest whenever he thought of any of them- Consort, Janitor, Framer- touching Carmine. Because they were such… such fucking whores, who didn't have the slightest hint what true love was-
It wasn't like he was going to scream, though. Maybe cry. Maybe… or maybe he'd be able to just swallow it down and go hide under a bed or something with his hands over his ears as he tried not to think of what it would sound like when…
Thoughts aside. He swallowed, a deep breath when he finally raised his hand to knock on the Consort's door, having to tug his lips back into something that potentially resembled a smile, fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt when it finally swung inward.
Why the hell did she have to be so pretty? Everyone… everyone felt like competition these days. And he felt so… small in comparison.
But nobody else would kill for him… nobody else would give themselves to him like I have. But then again, it's only been a few years… maybe… maybe he just needs more time. Maybe he just needs to think… I know… I know he needs me like I need him-
"Gioia," he said, curtly, staring at the woman, folding his glasses up and pushing them into his pocket. "As much as I'd… love to visit… the Godfather wants to see you. Guess he just needed some… company." Or, well, the company of a fucking whore. Julian gave a slight quirk of the lips, looking over the woman's shoulder so he didn't have to meet her eyes.
That fake ass smile sent shivers up her spine. That little bugger was one creepy dude, so much so that Gioia wouldn't touch him with a ten foot stick if she had the option, but the Godfather needed him to do his work so there's no reason to argue with him. She waited 'til Julian had made his way to the furthest room and then decided to make her way to the office. It was late out; rather, likely close to midnight, judging by the weather outside.
She isn't sure how exactly she ends up with her mouth between the Godfather's legs, her hands gripping onto strong thighs as she moves her mouth to an unimaginable degree, entirely too hot around the man's thick girth. Can't deny it happens a lot though- she's a Consort. Pleasure is her business, and goddamn if she didn't enjoy being the Godfather's favorite.
It's almost amusing, how much pleasure it brings her to know that she's the only one allowed to please him so intimately, so different than the rest of the mafia, who couldn't help throwing themselves at him like fucking animals. More than anything, it amused her- especially the Mafioso. Despite his obvious lack of sanity, there was something so impossibly desperate about him- maybe it was the bluntness of his dislike for the whole of the mafia, excluding his precious Godfather, or maybe it was the fact that he was so obviously a virgin, waiting for Carmine to fuck him for so long that he was almost more of a whore than any of them-
She wonders just how much sexual tension there is underneath that sickening, fake exterior- judging by the looks of it, quite a lot. The Godfather was so blind it was almost endearing- maybe that was why she always swallowed, or maybe it was just because she enjoyed it. As much as it killed her not to be in control, the Godfather was in the very least, something to be admired- although she didn't bow her head to just anyone. The fingers curling in her hair, tugging her closer, were just a sign of how much he needed her.
And to be fair, everyone needed something from her.
She's barely gotten him to the point of release when there's a sudden banging on the door, and she swallows the Godfather's thick release without another thought when she hears someone fiddling with the locks, seemingly rather needy from the rattling and the shallow curses. It's no surprise to her- that's just how some people are, too fucking weak to keep themselves in control for too long.
Gioia liked to think of Julian as the prime example of weakness.
He wants to scream, is so fucking annoyed that he can hardly take it, fiddling with the knob on the Godfather's door until he can pull it off and see her, glancing over with a glare that's enough to make his blood boil. And he isn't sure if it's the way the atmosphere in the room suddenly turns to ice or if it's his own head that makes him finally snap.
"You're cheating on me, you disgusting motherfucker?!" The Mafioso can't keep his hands from pulling on his hair, tugging it so roughly he wonders if he's going to pull it out- but the Godfather wouldn't appreciate it if he did that. He had to… had to keep himself perfect for Carmine, even if he was too goddamn weak looking to do that. He barely thinks before he's digging nails into the side of his neck, so annoyed, so… hurt at the fact that Gioia was giving his Godfather a blowjob while he was forced to sit out in the cold and muse.
"Sir, I… I… I'm very disappointed in you." He finally says, unsurprised when the Godfather raises an eyebrow, the Consort tugging his pants up and fastening them loosely.
"All you two do is sleep around- you don't know the meaning of love. You… you don't understand what I do. And I can't take it anymore. Why don't you notice me? Why don't you want to fuck me? I just- I just- fuck, sir, I can't stand it!"
It's practically hell when the Consort gives him that sly smile, presses her mouth to the Godfather's ear and whispers words that are too fucking clear to be surreal.
"You know that he's a virgin… right?"
"Shut the fuck up, you whore! I hate you- I hate both of you! Carmine, I've given you everything! Everything I have is yours! My body, my mind, my gun… my heart. I only want you! I want you to have all of me. And you go around screwing these filthy whores? I'm yours. Only I am so devoted to you- I'll kill the entire goddamn world to have you. Hell, I've been saving myself for you. Nobody else will ever touch me. Because we're in love. I need you. I want you to just fucking notice, Godfather- I want you! I would rip out my heart and give it to you if it meant we could be together. Stop pretending you don't know! Nobody else deserves you! Only me!"
Carmine had barely noticed the fact that Gioia had made herself rather comfortable on his lap, grabbing his jacket and snuggling her head against his neck and shoulder. Her hands playfully exploring his body, digging her lower body closer to his crotch. While he didn't mind- in fact, if they were alone, he'd probably encourage her- with the mafioso in the room, it rather dampened his mood.
Frankly, it was rather annoying. He really did just wish that Julian would just learn to collect himself and leave. Being interrupted right as he was releasing himself in the mouth of Gioia, making a huge scene... none of it was dignified of someone so high up in the mafia. If anything, it made him more annoyed. Julian should be better than this, much better, but yet, here he was, unclothed and spilling vulgarities right in front of him. Effectively, he was no better than any of the other grunts. Carmine had to remind himself to speak to him in private about this- if he was willing to do it so casually, and often enough, often, who knows what he would say if he was being interrogated or tortured by the jailor?
Honestly, he wasn't quite sure what he should address first. Perhaps his disobedience and rudeness on entering his office uninvited, his crass language that was used in front of a lady... Maybe he should start from the bottom, to get it out of the way so he could move on to the more important stuff. While the one he had picked out first really wasn't.. well, important per se, he would still like to acknowledge it.
"Julian-" Carmine began, as Gioia moaned from his chest, wiggling so that she was more pressed up against him, pushing her chest in his face. "Are you a virgin?"
The second the words slipped from the Godfather's lips, he could feel the heat building in his cheeks, immediately turning his eyes downwards to avoid the man's appraising gaze. He almost wanted to shake- from anger, annoyance or just plain heat he couldn't tell. He twiddled his fingers against each other briefly, trying not to let any more information out than he should. Goddamn Consort. Still, it was enough that he could barely cough out an "Um… w-well, about that… I j-just… like, uh… I…"
He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling much drier than before as he tried to cover the blush building on his cheeks by pressing his hands over his face. Mentally, he had to curse himself- like that doesn't make it totally obvious, Julian- but externally, he couldn't help it. Seeing Gioia smirk at him like that and the Godfather's unending stare was enough that he wanted to just turn around and leave.
But no- he'd come this far for his Godfather and there was no turning back at this point. Although it annoyed him that Carmine was basically disregarding everything he said in favor of some slutty Consort- seriously. What the fuck. It wasn't like… like he was only now realizing this, was it? There was no fucking way. He just…
"I just…" the Mafioso tried to start again, his voice somewhat shaky as he finally looks up, his lips quirking into a smile that was more psychotic than what it should be. "I was saving myself for you, Carmine. I only want you. I want… I want you between my thighs. I want you to fuck me so hard I forget how to say anything but your name. And afterwards, I want you to hold me and tell me that you love me too. Because if you don't… then I will not hesitate to kill her, you, and every other member of the goddamn mafia who could've taken you away from me. But remember, Carmine-senpai, I do this because I love you."
At that, he simply gave a grin- a grin that was actually completely genuine, his eyes nearly closing before a slight laugh escaped his lips. He brought a hand up to brush through his slightly-tangled black hair, folding his glasses up and tucking them into his pocket again so he could give a steadier glance to the man sitting at the desk.
His outburst would definitely be addressed in the meeting; along with a warning to watch his mouth around women. If he had problems with either him or Gioia, he should've waited until the both of them were free and taken it up with them in private. His current way of doing so was wasn't just unprofessional, but also very insulting to both of them.
Gioia's lip brushed against his chin, rubbing her cheek on his neck and further stretched out. "He's so angry, Carmine… don't you think? So unprofessional.. do you think he's taking any of those pills I used to see him oh so subtly take?"
She raised a good question, something that he hadn't really thought of yet. Has he? Carmine should know whether or not he was taking them or not, after all, they spent the majority of their time together.. He cursed in his head, repeatedly. He really should've made sure he was- he was always at his best when he was. Even if he disapproved of them, he couldn't deny they made him much more mellow and easy to deal with. The exact opposite of him currently.
"Julian," he raised an eyebrow, lightly attempting to push the consort off of his lap. It failed. "Are you alright? Should I call someone for you- I believe Keon and Akivya would gladly sedate you if you're in need of something urgent and quick acting."
Carmine attempted to remember what else he had said in his speech, though he had to admit he barely payed attention to what he was saying. He had quite a large number of things distracting him, things that seemed to settling into his lap even more. He'd… he'd been saving himself for… him?
He… he almost felt insulted- Carmine thought he needed someone to sedate him? But- but he'd never been happier… at least, he doesn't remember it. He doesn't remember feeling like this in a long, long time. Since before the Godfather had forced him to start taking that goddamn medication; the mafia had seemed so pleased with the decision he'd wanted to puke. Didn't anyone understand him? It was… it was so simple…!
"Why- why would I need pills? All they do is keep me from being up front with you- they keep me from loving you, they just… it fucking pains me to see you with her, Carmine. Gioia, you're such… such a bad girl… you just make me so angry. I'd love to wrap my hands around that pretty little neck of yours- but that's besides the point! I-I'm fine, completely fine."
He attempted to laugh it off, taking a deep breath afterwards as he tried not to let the frustration show on his face, but it… it almost hurt. Carmine didn't pay any attention to what he said- could probably care less about him. He… he didn't love him? Did he… did he love Gioia? She was such a fucking slut, though- a total whore, throwing herself all over everyone and moaning like a goddamn bitch. She made him want to rip out his eyes so he didn't have to watch her be so fucking pretentious…
No, she didn't deserve Carmine. Nobody else deserved him- nobody was good enough for him, nobody would… would do any of the things he had. He'd… he'd even gotten rid of his biggest competition! Not that the Godfather knew that, but… a Consort was nothing compared to a wife.
Julian couldn't help cracking a smile at the thought before he covers his face again, groaning almost harshly enough to tear his throat. He didn't need to think about… about any of that, not right now. Right now he just needed his Godfather to return his feelings, to admit what he already knew, to just say those three little words… He didn't have anything else… anything else to live for. He just wanted to cry. If… if the Godfather told him to, he'd do anything- if he told him to turn himself in, walk in front of a car, he'd do it. He just wanted to know.
"S-sir… Carmine, if you… if you don't want me… I just… there's no point anymore. I-I can't… just… if you… fuck, I just… I'll kill myself. I don't give a shit anymore. Just- please…"
"You're not going to kill yourself, Julian," Carmine reached a hand out, motioning for him to sit down again. "Please, calm down."
He supposed that his mafioso wouldn't be calming down anytime soon, he'd end up getting worse the longer this goes on. It upset him greatly. While he did earlier crave the drama, he would've preferred that it had not been so close as to effect him. Honestly, it annoyed him more than it did anything else. This new revelation of him… well, he couldn't exactly bring himself to say exactly what it was.. was disturbing and oddly surprised.
Still, as Gioia kissed and sucked on his neck tenderly and Julian on the verge of completely collapsing, he had to be the one to smooth the situation out. He finally managed to shove the kittenish woman off of his lap, removing himself from his seat and moves in front of his desk so that he was properly staring down the other man.
"I'm very disappointed that you would decide bring this up in a time like this, it's extremely insulting to all three of us to watch you throw a tantrum, airing out dirty laundry that should've been kept between two people." He scolded, keeping his voice steady and trying not to upset him even more. Carmine moved his hand to cup the boy's face, noticing that it was an unnatural pale colour compared to it's typical darker colour. His thumb rubs against his cheek, noticing the colour returning, though a light pink blush taking over most of it.
He waits for a response, curious to see what he would say. When he's met with tears falling from the mafioso's face and broken words, he simply sighs. "Julian, please.. act like a man, not a child." Carmine brought his face closer until he was only a hair away, the mafioso's breathing very quickly speeding up. "If you calm down, I will reward you."
A simple nod, hesitant but desperate, is all he needs before he connects his lips with the mafioso's and moves his hand to push his head against his to deepen it. It only lasts for a moment, but he assumes it'll be enough to get him to relax. Carmine was getting tired, close to announcing that they'd resume this in the morning and retire to bed, but he forced himself to shell out just a bit longer and then he'd do so with the consort in tow.
"Carmine," Gioia whined from the desk. "You shouldn't give into his childish demands.. it's not fair to rest of us. He called me a whore, darling.. are you really going to let him get away with this?"
Inwardly, she was laughing. She was hoping that they'd do this earlier, avoiding quite a big one sided fight. Still, it was amusing watching the mafioso be scolded and screaming declarations of love. Much more amusing than she previously assumed it would be. She'd have to tell the others how it went, they'd all enjoy it as much as she was.
Should he feel bad? To be fair, Julian didn't know- everything that had been running around in his head had turned into an overwhelming sense of fear, loneliness and desperation… just at seeing Carmine with Gioia. Just at… thinking that she was with him, that they could… could sleep together every night, could get married, have a fucking baby- it was the past repeating itself. And even worse, it was being blatantly thrown in his face.
Maybe they were right- maybe if he… if he hadn't quit taking those stupid fucking meds everything would be better. Or at least, for them it would have been. He… he didn't want it to be so hazy. He could barely even feel his Godfather when he was drugged up- he wanted to feel everything about Carmine. His hands, his lips, his body, his muscles or fat or anything- everything about him deserved to be worshipped. And Gioia couldn't possibly understand that.
Nobody else understood. Carmine didn't understand. The Mafioso couldn't keep himself from sucking in another breath, letting it out as a needy, broken sob that almost made him want to cringe as he curled in on himself. Maybe… fuck, anything was better than this, that kiss that only further threw the presence of the annoying Consort in his face, the way she was now clinging to Carmine's arm and looking up at him with those wide eyes…
He wanted nothing more than to cut her throat, let the sticky scarlet and alzarin shades cover his hands until he could barely make out the color of her skin. If it was Gioia's blood, he figured he wouldn't mind painting his skin with it- maybe after he broke some shit. He could imagine forcing the bones of her hand out through her skin… her screams would be such a pleasantry.
Was this… was this why everyone was so disdainful towards him? Julian was never one hundred percent on what exactly the mafia's problem with him was, but… he got so sick of being called crazy, got so sick of being talked down to, just because he might be a little mentally unstable in comparison to them. That didn't mean they had to point it out every fucking chance they got- he was so sick of it! And the Godfather just ignored it, didn't even try and defend him…
He might as well go all out, anyway. It's not like it would change anything at this point.
The Mafioso wiped the tears away from his cheeks, pulling another deep breath in as he looked up to Carmine, barely noting the icy glare on his face as he pulls himself to his feet, and begins to make his way toward the door.
"I-I'm s-sorry, sir. I'll… start… m-maybe you should have them sedate me, if it'll g-get rid of the problem."
Gioia had pressed herself against the godfather, giving an amused grin at the back of the head of the mafioso. It was so fun to watch the boy have a complete breakdown, even if it ended rather boringly with him crying and asking to be sedated.. still; wasn't every day that she could see Carmine's right hand (or rather, his left hand) man act like this.
She wrapped her arms around the older man, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Carmine," she smiled lightly, giggling softly. "You can really pick the best men.. your own mafioso is batshit insane."
He couldn't help the horrible, intense feeling of aggravation that was pooling in his gut as he whirled around to stare at the Consort, still clinging to the arm of his Godfather. She blinked up at him almost innocently, but the amused grin she aimed at him was all but as she taunted him with that fucking kiss-
He couldn't help himself. Julian barely had time to take a breath before he lunged at her, his hands grasping for the fabric of her dress, enough that he could pull himself closer to her with a sharp, "You fucking cunt-" that he never got to finish, the door slamming open right as he was met with a scalding glare from Carmine.
"Carmine, I-I'm sorry," he says, letting go of her, but he can feel the tears pooling in his eyes again, and then he hears something else leave her lips, something like 'crazy', and he can't help it, falling to his knees and practically slamming his head against the floor as he struggles from the sheer want to pull her down, fucking climb on top of her and choke her out until all the life drains from her horribly distracting face-
"Stop looking down on me!" The Mafioso barely managed to force out before he was being pulled away, giving a glance up to the Godfather as he tried to force out something else, tried to catch his breath, his eyes widening almost rapidly at the situation…
"Stop this," Carmine was anything but gentle as he pulled him away from the disgruntled consort and towards the two other mafia men. "A proper man should never ever touch a woman, Julian. I'm disgusted by your actions here."
The two others, Keon and Akivya, both seemed to understand exactly what they needed to do. They took hold of both arms of him, unwilling to let him escape from their gripes seeing as they just watch the previous scene unfold. It would be extremely wise to keep the man sedated tonight, or how ever long the godfather wanted him under.
Carmine looked over to the girl, giving her an apologetic look as she cursed underneath her breath and waved him off. While it felt wrong to do so, he had to supervise the young man. While he did just proceed to almost assault his girlfriend, he still cared a lot for the man. He wasn't ever like this when he was on his medication, he knew this for a fact. Gioia would understand, even if she didn't like it. She'd be welcomed to retire into his bedroom for the night, even if the chance of him joining her were rather slim now.
Everything hurt. It was like a sharp, tearing, searing pain that started in his neck and spiraled through his veins until it had engulfed absolutely everything in it's path. Harsh, hot and impossibly difficult to bear, he was barely able to force a breath past his own lips. For a few moments he just lay there, choking on air that he wasn't able to take in, barely processing anything that had happened, because he couldn't piece a damn thing together…
And then he was leaning forward, attempting to clutch at his chest as he coughed, so forcefully it rattled his chest, threatening to extend the pain that was there, along with the pounding in his head. He could hardly see- everything was so blurry, so… static that it wasn't possible to get a read on anything, not even the room. Was it… was it his room? He wasn't even sure, could hardly feel anything aside from the trembling in his own skin.
A jutting ache ran through his spine, causing him to pull himself away, lying back on the bed with his unyielding restraints around thin, bony arms as he turned his face away from the dim light in the room. There was… there was something he couldn't make out, something he wasn't sure of… although he knows, more than anything, how intense the rage had been, how… how angry she'd made him, and oh my fucking God, you idiot, you fucking told him- you said everything, and they're together and now there's no way you can just get rid of her if you want to keep your fucking head-
He manages to turn his head, just barely, looking over at the shadowed corner across from the bed, almost hopefully (although the hope would just be wistful at this point; any chance that the Godfather held affection for him had been all but crushed, just because he was such a goddamn moron…)
"S-s…" he tries to cough out, but his tongue won't let him form a single word, won't let him do anything but push a few, barely audible noises past his lips.
"Julian," he stood up, reaching over to place his hand on his. "Don't fuss, you're still heavily sedated. Lay your head back down."
Carmine wasn't quite sure what he was saying, barely awake and exhausted from waiting all night for the mafioso to wake up. The chair he was sitting didn't even attempt to give him any support, not that he wasn't surprise. Nothing in the mafioso's room screamed comforting: no familiar photos, sheets that didn't look old and unused.. plain, boring.
He sighed, again. It wasn't if he blamed him, if anything were to ever happen and they'd need to leave, he was glad that Julian wouldn't take too long saying goodbye to any of their sentimentals belongings. It was better that they not be held down by hings. Still, nothing here showed that he was even just a little bit attached to anything. Except for him.. which he very clearly explained to him for a few hours last night.
"How are you feeling? You look pale still, do you want me to get you some water?" Carmine touched the mafioso's head with the back of his hand, frowning at how dank, sweaty it felt. He felt bad for letting him getting like this, but he doesn't much to ease his pain or mental problems. It felt like it was wrong, to hate him slightly, seeing as the only thing he was able to do was take medication. He always heard him complain about how it made him feel, but he couldn't do anything other than just keep telling him to take them, that he was better with them than without them.
Remembering the medication, he removed three orange pill cases and set them on the bedside table next to him. He made sure to force him to look at them, grunting to get his attention when he loudly slammed it on the table. "We need to talk, Julian. About earlier."
What is there to talk about? To be fair, he felt as though he'd more than exhausted himself of all rational thought, barely managing to flex his fingers as he raised his eyes to meet the Godfather's. He swallowed, throat entirely too dry to feel anything- but he didn't need water. Carmine didn't deserve to waste time on someone as stupid as he had made himself out to be.
That being said… why the hell had he gotten together with Gioia? The filthy bitch was barely worth a second glance; she'd betray Carmine the second she saw a better option for herself… she didn't deserve him. She didn't deserve to live. None of them- absolutely nobody would love the Godfather as well as he had. Nobody else would kill to have him…
"Dis-moi merci, monsieur." he finally hissed out, barely audible in the chill of the room, when spoken with such a rasped breath. The Godfather's disapproving eyes did nothing to shake him, still lying there as he struggled to gain enough leverage in his arm to take those goddamn pills. He barely managed to force them into his mouth before he was looking back up to the Godfather with a mumbled curse of 'merde' under his breath.
"S-speak…?"
Carmine sat himself on the edge of the bed, returning his hand on the other's hand. "I did not appreciate you having a fit in my office earlier, Julian. It was very disrespectful of you to do so- even more so when you physically attacked Gioia."
He gripped his hand, ignoring the wincing sound that comes from the boy below him. "I should lower your rank, expel you and force you out of the mafia.." he takes a moment to calm himself down, drawing a deep breath and untensing his shoulders. "But I won't. Do you know why I won't?"
When nothing came out of the boy's mouth, thankfully, he continued. "Because I care for you, Julian. While not in the way I can see you.. hoping, I care very much so for you in a different sense. I apologize if you're not happy with this, but this is all I can do for you. You have become something of a son to me, and I'll never stop thinking of you this way.."
He wants to cry, wants to scream and beat his fists against the Godfather's chest, wants to shout so much his voice goes raw. But more than anything, he just wants to grab him and wrap hands around his neck and choke him until he turns blue. Julian has to curse himself for the thought, almost to the verge of collapsing again as his skin tingled and hands trembled.
He barely managed to move his fingers to curl in Carmine's shirt, his eyes staring straight at the man, still too difficult to blink. From here he could take in every inch of his face, every inch of his flawless skin and those piercing blue eyes… it's enough to make him tense, shoulders locking up rigidly as he hisses. He wants to smack himself for the words that finally come out.
"I'm s-sorry for being… delusional, s-sir. It… it w-won't happen… not a-anymore. Please…" And before he can help himself, there are crystalline droplets falling from his eyes and over his freezing cheeks, slipping off almost despairingly as he clings to the man with such desperation it's almost physically painful.
Carmine let the man cry into his chest, wrapping his arms closer to his body, and pushing his nose into his hair. Perhaps it would be best to let the mafioso rest for a few days, to take into the news.. he was sure their consigliere would gladly take his role, just for a little while, anyway. It made him upset to think about it, but he had to accept the fact that the mafioso needed some time to get back into reality.
"Julian, please stop," he forced him to look back at him, noting the salty tears that stained his face. "I'm sorry. You're young, you have plenty of other choices… you could do much better than me, boy."
His fingers brushed and pulled at his hair, the tips of thumbs wiping the tears from his eyes. He felt like such shit for doing this to him, even if he tried the gentlest he possibly could to reject it.. fuck, he'd never be able to forget this moment. Even if he tried, the sound of him crying will forever be replaying in his mind.
"Please stop crying," he pressed his lips against his, once more. It lasted longer than before, much longer. He didn't pull away, and neither did the mafioso. He brought his hands up to the mafioso's face, caressing his cheek with his thumb and closed his eyes. It seemed to last forever, but once he pulled away, he regretted deciding to do so.
The look on the mafioso's face pained him greatly, desperate and confused mixed with blissful hope. It was hard to decide whether or not to apologize for it, or to tell him he'd do it again if he promised to stop crying.. he cursed at himself, again and again until he made up his mind on what he wanted to do.
Carmine brushed off the wrinkles on his suit, giving a tender rubbing of the man's hand, and pulled himself up. "I'm.. I apologize for that, Julian. Please, rest. I'll have our consigliere take your place for the next few days while you recover.. please don't hesitate to come and talk to me when you feel better." He looked away from the man, barely able to walk to the door without wanting to turn back. "Good night, Julian."
He doesn't know what to say. What to feel, what to think… whether or not he should keep crying or if this means he has a chance. He wants to believe that- the latter- so bad it makes him tense up as another whine leaves his mouth thoughtlessly, trying as best he could not to just stay staring at the back of the man walking towards the door.
Still, it was enough that he was so flustered, suddenly so much more emotional than before, almost heated as his cheeks continued to turn redder the more he thought about it. He barely managed to choke out a "sir, p-please, don't leave-" as he watched the Godfather pause in his movement, enough that the Mafioso could practically feel his breathing stop.
"C-Carmine?"
"Yes?"
Carmine forces himself to turn around, noting the fact that his voice was higher than.. well, higher than he'd ever actually heard himself go.
He doesn't know how to stop himself from reddening further, especially when Carmine's eyes fall on him again, his back arched and spine curved in a way that he almost felt ashamed of. He could barely focus on the Godfather's words, simply trying to pull away from that stare, as if it would fix anything.
When his words finally slip out, they're nothing like he wants them to be, his hands trembling as he shifts his legs, letting his thighs fall away from each other just slightly as he tries to choke back a moan.
"Carmine… I-I need you. P-please…" he finally says, trying to hold back another sob when he thinks his Godfather's only going to turn away again… it's almost a thought he's ashamed of, the notion that maybe if he was needy enough Carmine would want him- even if just from pity. Still, he could… pass it off as effects of the sedative, could claim he was still delusional, could…
"Fuck, sir-" he moans, his head tilting back ever so slightly as he avoids the Godfather's disbelieving gaze. "I'm… nn… I don't know what's wrong with me, G-Godfather. I j-just…"
"T-this is highly unprofessional," he says this but yet, his feet drag him over to him, forcing him to sit down right down next to him. Carmine's lips felt weirdly dry, cracked and painful to move. "Julian.." his eyes locked down on where his hips were arching forward, a small blush threatening to appear on his face. Cursing to himself, he forced himself to swallow whatever curses that kept trying to escape his mouth.
His fingers twitched, slightly shaking as he rested a hand of his inner thigh. He didn't know why or how he was doing this, after all, he had just told him he had thought of him as a child.. but yet, he was about to do something like this just minutes later. Did he develop feelings for him in that amount of times.. no, he didn't think so. It seemed to keep him happy, it calmed him down almost immediately.
He wanted to tell himself that it was only to calm him down, to keep the peace.
(He hated lying to himself.)
The hand resting on the inside of his thigh, smoothing over the thin fabric covering his skin was enough to make him quiver, his legs trembling as Carmine's hand smoothed over the sensitive areas of skin where thigh connected to hip and pelvis. He wanted to… wanted to cry, but anything more would just ruin all this…
He couldn't help it. There were a few tears that spilled down his cheek, followed by a longer moan as he tensed up and tried to keep himself from getting so worked up. "Carmine, I-I can't… what's… aah, I just… my head feels so… c-can't. Need… something."
Carmine leaned in, moving his free hand up his body and kissed his neck. The moans that escaped both his lips and Julian's sounded like music, causing his to suck deeper on his neck as he tried to imagine anything else but this. Why did this feel so wrong? He felt stupid for continuing, enabling him into believing that he had a chance.. it felt so nice though. Thoughts went to his deceased wife, rest her soul.. the feel and touch of her skin, so soft and fragile. It was too much like the mafioso's, and it killed him inside.
"Julian.. if you want me to stop-" he released his hold on his neck, noticing his made quite the impression on his neck.
He could practically feel all the marks, every inch of skin that his Godfather had marked, almost swollen in comparison to what it had been before. He wondered how it looked… wondered what people were going to say when they saw it, all purple and red, practically like he'd been defiled. But god if he didn't want it, need it, crave it.
"Nnn… 's… f-feels nice sir. I feel… l-loved. Is that… w-what I'm supposed to feel? D-do you… need to leave? I'm s-sorry. Don't know what's wrong with me… Carmine… you have no idea…" he tensed up with a gasp as he felt the hand slip further between his thighs, rubbing against the bulge growing in his pants.
"My s-skin is yours." he managed to hiss, hoping it didn't come across as unnerving as it sounded. Julian wrapped a hand around the back of Carmine's neck, trying to just bring him closer still, wanting more, more marks on his skin, more touches to his hot flesh…
"Just.. tell me when you want me to stop," he kissed his lips once more, breathing heavier than previously. The tips of his fingers trailed the veins trailed his cock, before he hesitantly took it into his hand and let himself pull on it gently. He wasn't very experienced in how to actually handle someone else's, seeing as he was always on the receiving end of them.
Julian thrusted himself into his hand, moaning his name that just made him feel so much more in the wrong about continuing this. Carmine tried to ignore his feelings, wanting so much to just… feel numb to this. He tried to think of Gioia, of his wife, Bellissima.. Belle.. His lips found his neck again, biting down onto it and tried so hard to think of Belle's beautiful thick lips, her blonde hair.. he felt sick, the desire to see his wife once again returning to his stomach. He tried to shift to thinking of Gioia.. yes, she worked. Her moans, the way she called her name with a thick accent that reminded him of home.
He moaned, growing hard himself as he continued to tug the boy off. "G-gioia.. fuck-"
He said her name. Her, the one who didn't deserve him, disrespected him, was so unbelievably fake that she made Julian want to puke whenever he matched eyes with her makeup-caked face.
But wasn't he… wasn't he being just as fake right now, his head suddenly aching, feeling like it was going to fracture into a thousand pieces. He shoved Carmine away, biting down on his lip, wrapping arms around his impossibly fragile frame with a sob.
"Please… just leave. I-I feel so sick, sir. D-disgusted with myself. You… I'm just… n-nothing. I think… p-please leave me my pills, sir. I just… don't w-want to think about what I've d-done. Please."
"I'm sorry," Carmine attempted to leave in and kiss him as an apology, but once the mafioso moved his face, he simply sighed in defeat. He gripped his leg, moving from his bed and returned to making his way towards the door. Right before he completely opened the door, he turned back and nodded. "Please, get plenty of rest, Julian.. Goodnight."
Carmine wondered briefly what would happen in the next few days, if things between them would be the same. Things would certainly be different.. Was it wrong that he was excited to see? No, he didn't think so.
A faint smile appeared on his lips as he slammed the door behind him, ready to actually be able to retire. With the thought of his mafioso fresh in his mind.
…..
At some point it had come to this. He supposed it might be fitting; still rolled over on one side, curling in on himself further and further… He wanted to disappear. More than anything, he just wanted to disappear, to quit feeling, because he was so foolish and annoying and just… it wasn't anything he could help, really. Hell, he didn't know if he could help anything anymore.
He couldn't help his own feelings. Couldn't help that god-awful, wrenching heartache when he realized that there was nothing to live for. And maybe he should be scolding himself for it, Julian thought- for giving up on love, for just… wasting himself like this when absolutely nobody else in the goddamn world would be able to do what he had done. When nobody would even think about… about killing for someone. It just made the thoughts even worse, more persistent, almost… shameful.
Should he be ashamed of himself? Probably. But for what it was worth, he hadn't felt anything- not really. He might not even to be able to feel if he tried. That alone was enough to make him give a horrible, half-pained, real smile that was probably the most honest expression he'd seen on his own face in years. He barely managed to drag in another breath, before he took the last sip of the water, trying to push down the feelings lodged in his chest along with the pills.
You know what sucks? Realizing everything you've ever believed in is a lie. Really, really sucks. He thought, a dry hiss of a laugh parting from his lips at that, before he turned away from the door and walked back over to the bed, just barely managing to lie down on it as he let his muscles start to accept their weakness.
There just wasn't a point.
Carmine couldn't go back to sleep, instead, he paced the room. Anxiety has built in his chest, worried about what Julian meant when he asked him to leave. Why leave his pills-he'd seen him watch him leave them on the tablet next to him. Fuck, he'd watch him do so.. it didn't make sense, it didn't make a lick of it.. it confused him, terrified him of all the possibilities that could happen to him..
"Carmine," the consort whined from the bed, barely clothed and looking rather annoyed. "Please.. your pacing is getting very annoying, come lay down with me. I need you."
"In a minute," he waves a hand at her, giving one of apologetic smiles that he seems to be giving to almost everyone these days. His mind still kept on his mafioso.. he didn't think he was safe, anything but that. "Gioia, please.. go back to sleep, darling, I'll be back soon."
She voices a complaint, though he's not quite sure what it exactly is. He barely hears a thing, only able to hear the pounding in his ears. His heart beats too quickly, almost alarmingly fast. If he wasn't already worried about Julian, he'd worry about his heart.. it didn't matter right now, once he had made sure the boy was okay, he'd worry about himself.
Once reaching the boy's room, he pounded harder than he intended to do. Carmine hadn't quite noticed that his hands were shaking until he managed to throw open the door.
He isn't sure just how badly he's shaking, swallowing back his own fear as he tries not to let the sound affect him; his cheeks are soaked, absolutely covered in tear trails, still trying to quell the sound of the sobs that keep breaking loose from his throat. He isn't sure how long it's been, who might have found him, if it even fucking mattered at this point…
It's only a few seconds before he hears a crashing noise and feels something impossibly warm pressing closer to him, his skin freezing cold, paler than even the night before. He barely managed to bring a fist up to smack against the figure's body with such a weak passion it's almost trivial.
"P-please don't d-do anyth…" Julian choked from between sobs, grabbing for the other's sleeves as he tries to force the hands away from him- but his arms were pushed away easily, forced aside as he felt the person grab him roughly.
Carmine was barely able to hold the boy up properly, his knees almost giving out under him as he pressed the boy to his chest and attempted to drag him over to the bed. He'd honestly never felt so… scared, panicked and fearful for another human being before. And it killed him, it tore him apart on the inside and he was damn sure that it showed on the inside. He couldn't remember the last time he was felt terror like this before.. the last night he ever felt genuinely fearful was when.. Belle died, when he had found Belle dead, skin burnt and charred like a piece of meat. They had the arsonist burnt in return the following evening.
"Julian-" Carmine finally got out, voice cracking as he pulled the two of them on the bed and wrapped himself around the boy, brushing his hair back from his face and feeling his forehead. "Please- say something. Talk to me- can you even hear me?"
"C-C…" he choked out, recoiling on himself as he shakes, feeling the Godfather's arms wrapped so tightly around him, so warm, more than he could've imagined it to be… hesitantly, he buried his face in the side of Carmine's shirt, fingers shaking as he wrapped them in the thin fabric.
"N-nobody… don't know… Carmine. I-I feel… just… d-doesn't matter." he pulls himself away then, retching as he leans over the side of the bed, unable to keep himself from lurching forward as half-digested pills litter the floor; he can feel Carmine's hand on his back, rubbing against the exposed flesh, tugging him back into his arms, enough that he can tremble and cry and curse into the other's skin…
"Julian," he keeps repeating his name until it sounds foreign and his throat burns, but he doesn't stop saying it as he rocks the boy back and forth like it's the only thing he can do because it is and he has no idea what to do. His nails are probably digging into his skin, and he feel blood dripping down his hands and staining his clothes, and he curses. Blood is a bitch to get out of clothing, but he doesn't bother caring, the janitor can throw it out for all he cares. He presses his lips against the boy's forehead, romantic looking or whatever be dammed.
He had no idea what to do or say, he just rocked them both, trying to calm himself down and pretend they were both anywhere else but here. A thought of the stress giving him a heart attack or something just as severe crosses his mind, but it's gone as soon as it came. There are so many ideas and thoughts and desires and scenes that play through his mind, and he can't focus on them all, they run through his mind like someone is beating him and-
For a moment, the world feels blank and he feels completely numb- Julian is loud though- so loud and he can't hear anything else but the sound of his tears hitting the floor and he's still vomiting… his breath comes out in the shortest of pants and he forgets to inhale as he's finally letting tears fall from his own face. The world is going dark, spotty, and all he can do to force himself to stay awake is to stare at the boy's face, no matter how gross and sickly it is. It makes him feel sick, grossed out and confused on what to do again, but.. he doesn't think. He forces himself to act on instinct.
"T-tell me what to do-" he's not used to doing things on his own, and it's painfully obvious for both of them. Carmine feel embarrassed and hates himself for it, but- he can't change history no matter how much he truly wants to and oh god, does he.
I don't know what to do, he thinks, pulling his arms further around himself as he shakes and sputters and tries to force out something that resembles words as the Godfather's hands fall on his shoulders and pull him to his chest again. He feels tired… exhausted… beyond the capacity for words. He doesn't know if he even has the strength to cry anymore; defeated as he lets himself sink back against his Godfather's chest and clench his hands into barely-curled fists.
He isn't able to say almost anything, simply pressing his face into the mattress and the messy heap of blankets as an attempt to shield himself from Carmine because he wasn't supposed to find me, wasn't supposed to worry, fuck fuck fuck-! As relieved as the Mafioso was that he was here that he did love him in some way or another, he feels so weak now… like a silly little mess, all covered in tears and vomit. Dramatic for no goddamn reason, and nobody who-
He cares. He does. Carmine… Carmine cares about him, loves him, came back for him… he must have realized, Julian thought. Their connection was so intense that not even death could break it. In… in sickness or in health, right? He just… it was so obvious now, and he couldn't believe he'd been so stupid as to believe otherwise.
"S-stay with me?" he rasps out, throat sore and raw and so acidic it burns. "P-please, sir… y-you came back, why… please… I-I need you. So w-warm… just stay… h-hurts, Carmine."
The fast beating of his heart finally slowed down after several long moments, much to Carmine's great pleasure. "O-of course," he hated the way he sounded so weak now, too worried for either of them.. he had to be strong for them both now, like the leader the boy had looked up to. He gave a nervous laugh, ignoring the vomit and the tears that stained his cheek as he kissed him.