Brooklyn, NY
John
John slowed his Stellar black Cadillac ATS down as he approached his destination. He grunted when he noticed the minimal parking in front of Farmer and the Deli. Eyeing an open space, John gauged whether his car would fit, decided it would and parallel parked leaving a sliver of space between his car and the ones in front and behind him. He silently dared anyone to bump or scratch his car on their way out
"Hey, Johnny Boy!"
"Hey Paulie."
"Did you, uh, get that thing?"
"Yeah but I'm not giving it to you out here."
"I'll see you inside." John pulled the door of the deli open and stepped inside. The chatter turned to a low buzz as the patrons eyed him. He gave a nod to the man standing behind the counter and made his way to the back of the store
"John." He heard stepping into the room
"Yeah?"
"You working later?"
"I'll be at the club tonight." No one said anything. "Why? Is there a problem?" He asked, his Brooklyn accent sounding heavy even to his own ears
"No, no. There's just this thing and if I needed you I wanted to know where to find you. Want to play?" John shrugged off the jacket to his three piece suit and began chalking a pool cue.
"We puttin' money on this?"
"No, you fucking shark. You got me one time, you asshole, but never again." He laughed quietly to himself. John made it a point to be good at everything he did. Whether it was collecting, earning, sex, or playing some dumb game, he was competitive and always strived to be better than everyone else. His powerful shot broke the racked set of balls, sinking three of the striped ones
"Calling stripes." He spoke
"Madonn!" Joey cursed. "You mother fucker."
"Should I go easy on you?"
"Eat shit." The other man replied before knocking a solid into one of the pockets
"Not bad. You been practicing." Before John's playing partner could respond, Paulie walked in with Vito Ferraro, the head of the Ferraro crime family
"Vito." Joey said shaking the man's hand
"Joe…Johnny."
"Vito."
"I want to talk to you." John could hear the snickering of the other men which irritated him but he wouldn't let that show in front of the boss. Instead, he tossed the pool stick onto the table, grabbed his tailored jacket and followed the older man. "Shut the door." He said once John had stepped inside
"What's up, Vito?"
"Guys in Jersey are wondering where Richie and Ralph are and they have a pretty good idea what happened to them."
"Ok."
"They were made guys, John."
"I know but they were here in our territory where they are not welcome and they were very disrespectful. Not once, not even twice, but three times. Three strikes you and anybody else is out."
"This could start a war, you know."
"Tell them to bring it." He saw a flare of impatience in Vito's milky blue eyes but as quickly as it was there, it subsided
"You're willing to risk some of our men because you can't control your temper? Is that what you're telling me?"
"No. If I couldn't control my temper I would have killed those guys the first time they came here and gave us their asses to kiss like we're some regular jack-offs."
"Christ."
"Look, I'm not actively seeking to start shit but I'm not going to back down either. You tell those pricks to stay where they belong and everything's fine." Vito sighed
"You working tonight?"
"At the club, yeah."
"Go the fuck home until then."
"Vito-"
"I'm serious. Did you collect today?" John removed an envelope from the inside of his jacket and placed it on the desk. "You're a great earner, Johnny, but I'm deadly serious. Go home because if I see you or hear that you're out in these streets, I'll put a bullet between your eyes myself." Before he could vault over the desk and strangle his boss, John put his jacket on, snatched open the door and walked out
Later
To avoid being seen, John parked around the back of the club and keyed his entry into the Employee Only entrance then went straight to his office. Almost. He dropped his hand away from the knob and stepped down the hall. He chuckled when he saw the Consigliere, Bobby, having his way with one of the club waitresses in the back closet. Always on high alert, Bobby noticed the other man and gave a wave that John returned as he shut the door completely.
"Fucking schmuck." He said stepping into his office. Before John could get into the mound of paperwork on his desk, a family associate knocked on the door. "What?"
"That new bartender is here."
"Ok."
"You said to let you know when he got here." John rose from the chair and followed behind the other man. On his way up to the bar, John noticed a man sitting nervously at the end just swirling the ice around in his drink. The man looked sad but that didn't stop John's dick from stirring in his pants. Jesus. He thought
"There he is." John tore his eyes away from the stranger and eyed his newest bartender
"Name?"
"What?"
"Your fucking name, what is it?"
"Frankie."
"What are you making?"
"Kid's supposed to be making me a fucking Old Fashioned." Vittorio, a soldier answered
"I am making one."
"Are you sure?" John asked
"Of course I'm sure."
"How many bars you work in?" Frankie sighed, showing his frustration with being questioned
"I've been bartending for five years." He handed the drink to Vittorio who sniffed it then took a tentative sip. John knew it was wrong but wanted to hear the man say it
"Hey asshole, the fuck is this!?"
"You asked for an Old Fashioned, I gave you an Old Fashioned. Is this a fucking joke?" Still angry about what happened earlier with Vito, John reached out and smacked Frankie
"Watch your fucking mouth. He asked for an Old Fashioned and you put rum in it. An Old Fashioned does not have rum. I asked once but I'll ask again: how many bars you work in?" He could tell the other man wanted to lie and John hoped he would so that he could smack him again
"This is my first one."
"What?"
"I never worked in a bar before."
"What a prick!" Vittorio exclaimed. John was angry, not entirely at Frankie but he certainly couldn't take his anger out on Vito so the bartender was his target. He grabbed the drink and tossed it in the man's face then threw the heavy bottomed glass at his head
"Easy Johnny!"
"Get out of my club!"
"I need this job! I'm sorry."
"Get out!" Having heard the commotion, some associates came over and grabbed Frankie before more of a scene could be made. Holly, one of John's best bartenders, placed two shot glasses on the bar and poured chilled tequila in them. Vittorio and John knocked the drink down. "Sweetheart, make Vittorio a proper Old Fashioned for me, will ya?"
"Of course, John."
"Thank you honey."
Randy
I watched as that asshole scared the shit out of his own bartender, smack him and then hit him in his head with a glass. His actions made me wonder, again, why I came here. Well, I know why I came here. This club is connected and I'm running. My hope is that no one, especially him, will have the balls to come in here looking for me. I take a sip of my drink and cough, remembering that it is not what I ordered which makes me less than sympathetic to that bartender. He fucking sucked
"How's your drink?" I jump at the sudden voice in my ear. Get a hold of yourself Randy. It's him. Jesus
"Good."
"Then how come you're not actually drinking it?"
"Because it's fucking terrible." That Asshole chuckled. "I'm not entirely sure of what happened down there but the taste of this makes me think he deserved it."
"Oh, you saw that?"
"You smack the shit out of that guy then hit him with a glass? Yeah, I saw that. I think everyone here saw that." He blatantly rakes his eyes over my body making my clothes feel pointless
"I don't like being disrespected."
"No one does but Christ."
"Let me get you another drink."
"No. Thank you." He raises a brow
"No?" I give my head a shake. "I like people to have a good time in my club and here you are with this terrible, and watery, drink. You, uh, also saw what you saw – let me make it up to you."
"I'm fine, really. You don't owe me anything."
"You're right, I don't own anyone anything, but I'm offering. I don't like being told no."
"Will you hit me in the head with a glass?" His nostrils flare. Cool it, Randy.
"Not if I can help it." He signals toward the bar
"What can I get you, John?" John takes my glass and slides it toward her
"The proper version of whatever the fuck this is supposed to be." She looks at me
"Dark n' Stormy."
"That kind of night?" She asks and I shrug. You have no idea…more like that kind of life
"What's your name?"
"Why?"
"You are fucking difficult." I bite back my laughter. "And I'm sure I'm not the first to tell you."
"No, you're not."
"So?"
"Randy."
"Christ. Was that so hard?"
"No but I don't like giving in too easily."
"Why's that?"
"Can't seem too easy." The uptick in the corner of his mouth doesn't go unnoticed but I don't acknowledge it
"What's wrong with that? We're adults." I feel the warmth of his hand on my knee as he gives it a squeeze
"Here you go."
"Thank you, Holly." I could kiss Holly for the distraction. Instead I grab the glass, suddenly desperate for something to wet my throat. Sipping from my straw, I watch as John stands and pulls a wad of cash from his pocket, peel off a few bills then place them on the bar
"Tequila?"
"Please. Where you from?" Say something! Anything other than where you're actually from. "Before you lie to me, I want you to know I smacked that guy for lying to me so don't even fucking try it." Well shit
"New Jersey."
"Madonn. Did someone send you here?"
"What!? No."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I'm having a drink."
John
I don't trust this guy as far as I can throw him but goddamn is he sexy. I want to drag his ass back to my office, throw him face down on my desk and fuck the shit out of him
"Randy, I want to believe you but unfortunately, I don't."
"I'm sorry. I don't know how else I can get you to believe me. No one sent me here, I swear."
"Come with me." John said. He hesitates and his fear turns me on
"I-" Randy holds his drink up
"Bring the fucking thing with you. Come." John stated matter-of-factly, grabbing his own drink from the bar. Randy stood on shaky legs and stiffened when he felt the other man's hand on the small of his back, nudging him forward. The men made it to the back office where John slammed the door
"Look-"
"Sit down and shut up."
"I don't know-"
"I said sit down!" Randy dropped into a chair. "Why are you here?"
"Here as in this bar, New York or Brooklyn specifically?"
"For the record – I want to smack the shit out of you."
"Please don't."
"What's your name?"
"Randy."
"Do you just have one name? Are you Prince?"
"Orton…my name's Randy Orton."
"Why are you here in this bar, that's located in New York in the Brooklyn borough, Randy?"
"I wanted to get out of Jersey."
"No one sent you here?"
"No. I already told you that." John put a hand on each arm of the chair and leaned forward. Randy could see wispy hairs on his chest in the V of his shirt and smell his aftershave
"Did you want to get out of Jersey or did you have to leave?" Shit! Randy thought
"Does it matter?"
"It fucking does."
"Why?"
"Because I said so now stop playing games with me before I really get mad." Randy knocked back the rest of his drink. Not taking his eyes off the other man, John took the glass from his hand and put it on the desk behind him. "Go on."
"I had to leave."
"And you came here? Why? You got a smartass mouth on you and I don't think you're stupid. You had to know what you were doing coming here."
"Ok. I did come here on purpose."
"I-"
"I didn't lie to you! You asked if someone sent me and I said no. No one sent me here, I came on my own."
"For what reason?"
"Why are you interrogating me?!"
"You're in my club and I can do whatever the fuck I want, that's why. Did you see me smack that guy? Did you see me hit him with a glass? Did you see anyone do anything about it?"
"No."
"I'm giving you one last chance to come completely clean or else."
"Or else what?"
"Or else I make you disappear. You seem to be running from something, or someone, so it should be fairly easy to do." I'm an asshole. I know I am, and I make no bones about it. I don't want to hurt him, but I will if I have to in order to get my point across. In the business I'm in, I can't afford to look weak. Reputation is everything.
"I wasn't prepared for this shit. I need another drink." John took a sip from his glass and handed it over. "I don't like tequila."
"Oh fucking well. You either drink that or nothing at all." Randy took a small sip. "My patience is so thin with you right now. Stop all the damn stalling." Without saying a word, the tall man stood up and placed the tequila on John's desk. When he gripped the hem of his shirt, reflexively, John touched the gun tucked in his waistband. He swore when he saw all the bruises on the other man's torso. "Who the fuck did this to you?" In the harsh lighting of the office, John could see a yellow bruise under Randy's eye
"The reason I'm running. I haven't had a moments peace and I knew he wouldn't look for me here. I knew this place was connected but I swear I didn't know you were the owner and I didn't come here to cause you any trouble."
"Do you know who I am?"
"Aside from someone with a mean temper? No."
"John." He said sticking his hand out. "John Cena."
"Shit." I run from one Mafia asshole and bump into another. A capo in the Ferraro crime family. What luck.
"Who did this?"
"It doesn't matter. I'm only here until I figure out what my plan is. I feel safe here."
"Do you? Because you look nervous as fuck and you're jittery. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were on drugs."
"It's a good thing you know better then." Randy said pulling his shirt back on
"Watch your fucking mouth when you talk to me. And answer my question."
"What question?"
"Who did this?"
"Someone in New Jersey."
"Jesus God. Where are you staying?"
"In a hotel."
"Maybe you are stupid."
"Excuse me?"
"You're running from someone powerful enough that you feel the need to be in a club with connections and you pick a hotel to stay in. You clearly don't know how easy it is to find someone that doesn't want to be found."
"Well I'm no expert at this."
"That's pretty fucking obvious."
"I have to go." Randy said stepping around the chair. John grabbed his arm and pulled him back
"Do they want you dead?"
"Probably."
"Did you steal?" He asked wrapping an arm around the man's waist
"No."
"Kill anyone?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"Because he does what he wants. I'm property to him."
"Must be some kind of asshole to treat his property this way." Randy swallowed thickly
"I'm not property."
"No?" He shook his head. Was it the best time? No, but John was tired of resisting what he really wanted to do. He kissed the other man roughly, swallowing down Randy's moans. He felt the man pushing against his chest which was the opposite of what his mouth was doing which was kissing him right back. John was the one to pull away. "What's his name?"
"I can't."
"I'll get it out of you one way or another." Randy could feel John's hard-on pressed against his stomach. Maybe with that he thought. "Come with me to my place. You can get a good night of sleep there."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"All my ideas are good ideas."
"John, no."
"Don't tell me no. We talked about this."
"What the fuck is your deal?" Instead of giving the man a smack to his mouth like he wanted, John kissed him again. Randy felt the heat rising from his toes all the way up to his face as John walked them back toward the couch he'd noticed in the room. They parted just long enough for him to push Randy down by his shoulder and climb on top of him. "Jesus." Randy panted as the older man kissed from his lips, down his jaw then latch on to his neck where he bit him then sucked. He untucked John's shirt and ran his hands over the muscles he could faintly make out beneath the starched shirt. John moved back to his mouth where he shoved his tongue inside. Wanting to satisfy his curiosity, the younger man slid his hands down and brushed one against the prominent bulge in John's trousers
"Fuck." John groaned as he lifted himself off the other man
"What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?" Randy asked
"No." John replied as he stood and began undoing his pants
"Wait."
"What?"
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?"
"I don't even know you!" He smirked but didn't stop. Randy sat up and tried averting his eyes but he just couldn't tear them away from the other man's crotch
"We don't exactly need to know each other for this."
"I think we do."
"We don't. Just open your mouth."
"But-"
"I'm not asking." Who was Randy kidding? Certainly not John. They both knew he wanted to. Dropping to his knees, he pulled down John's pants then kissed his dick through the tight, black boxer briefs before pulling those down too. John noticed the man's eyes widen when he caught sight of him. Randy flicked his tongue out and tasted the pearly precum waiting for him on the thick head. "Open." John demanded grabbing the base of his cock. Obediently, Randy obliged. John thrust shallowly at first letting the man get used to his size. When he didn't gag, John fed him more until he took him all the way down. "Merda." He muttered as he thrust his hips faster. "You like having my dick down your throat?" Randy looked up and nodded. "Suck harder." He did as the man told him to while John thrust faster. No matter how fast or hard he moved his hips, Randy never gagged or indicated he wanted a break. Which was good because his mouth was doing wonderful things to John and the man wasn't sure he could stop if he needed to. "I want you to swallow." Randy nodded. "And don't waste it." John thrust and held himself there until he was sure the other man needed to breathe then began his hard thrusting again. "Fuck. You're gonna make me cum." Randy reached up and wrapped his hands around John's muscular thighs, anchoring himself there. John gave a loud grunt as his seed surged down the willing man's throat. Randy didn't let go until he was sure John had given him everything. "Good boy." He licked his lips feeling humiliated and oddly excited having pleased the caporegime. John tucked himself back inside and straightened his clothing so that he was presentable. "Bathroom's through there. Clean yourself up." When John got to the office door, he turned back. "Don't fucking go anywhere." Randy nodded
John had to get out of there. After he first kissed Randy he knew that he needed the man in his bed that night. Hell, even before he kissed him, he knew. He didn't like the fact that the other man was somehow connected to people in New Jersey, but his dick didn't care about that.
"I'm heading out. You guys need anything?" Bobby, along with some soldiers and associates shook their heads
"What are you going to do about the bartender situation?"
"What situation?"
"You need another damn bartender."
"I'll figure it out later. It's Wednesday so Holly and what's-her-face can handle it tonight. I'll have someone by the weekend." John turned his back on the group before anyone could say another word. He opened the door of his office fully expecting Randy to be gone but found the man sitting on the couch, his cheeks still flushed. Fuck, I'm in trouble he thought
"Ready?"
"Are you taking me back to my hotel?"
"No."
"Where are you taking me then?"
"My place."
"John-"
"You're not about to tell me 'no' are you? Because I thought I made it clear I don't like that."
"I suppose not."
"Let's go." John all but shoved the other man down the short hallway to the exit. He used the key fob to unlock the doors and opened the passenger side for Randy
"What about-" John slammed the door before the man could finish. He started the car and stared at Randy while he waited. The tall man gasped when the other reached over and grabbed the safety belt, strapping him in
"Safety first."
"Right." The ride to John's brownstone was silent and Randy was grateful. He didn't know what to say or if he should say anything. When leaving New Jersey, his ill-thought-out plan was to arrive, find a hotel to stay in and attempt to live a normal life. How ever normal a life you can live looking over your shoulder all the time. John smoothly pulled up to the curb and killed the engine before stepping out. Randy startled when his door was yanked open
"Come." He stepped out and followed the intimidating man up the steps to his front door. John flipped a switch and stood aside allowing the other man in before him. His kind gestures and asshole demeanor left Randy feeling conflicted
"You have a nice place." He said taking in his surroundings
"Thanks. Sit down." The place was clean, and its modern furnishing went well with the exposed brick and high-end finishes. "I bought it then gutted the place. Kept the brick walls in here and I wanted to keep the one in the master bedroom, but it was too dilapidated and would have cost too much to reinforce it." John could hear himself speaking and wasn't at all sure why he was telling this man, who he'd just met, this information
"Well you did a beautiful job with what you had. Thank you." Randy responded taking the drink being offered to him. John took a seat on the coffee table across from the couch
"Are you going to tell me who you're running from now?"
"You're really stressing me out with this." John laughed
"I'm stressing you out. Me? Stressing you out? I haven't tried to kill you."
"Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Going to try to kill me."
"You are fucked in the head. No, I am not going to try to kill you…and for the record – I don't try, I do." Randy's gulp was audible. "Are you afraid of me? Because you're very skittish and I think that I've been nothing but nice to you. I'm never this nice."
"You're intimidating and you know you are."
"But have I hurt you? Do you have a legit reason to be afraid of me?"
"I want to say 'no' but you've made it abundantly clear you don't like the word."
"You're a walking conundrum. On one hand I want to slap that smart mouth of yours and on the other I want to strip you naked and fuck you." Not expecting that, Randy spit his drink out as he choked. John ran an irritated hand over his wet face
"I'm sorry." The younger man said on a cough. "You want to what?"
"Which part are you confused about? Slapping you or the part where I want to fuck you."
"That one."
"I thought that was evident." John smirked when he caught the man stealing a glance at his dick. "My eyes are up here." Randy blushed and handed over his now empty glass. John sat it on a coaster then took a seat on the couch next to the other man. Without a word, Randy reached over and ran his fingers through the other man's perfectly coifed hair and then kissed him. John guided Randy closer until he straddled his lap. His hands traveled downward until he was able to grab a handful of the younger's ass. The hands rubbed back and forth as Randy undulated atop him. John could feel his pants growing tighter and tighter. He could also feel his control slipping so he roughly grabbed the other man by his waist to stop his movements
"What?" He asked breathlessly
"Get up." John demanded, tossing the other's legs aside. "And take off your clothes."
"John-"
"Do you want to tell me 'no'?"
"Not really."
"Then stop fucking around and do as I say." Self-consciously, Randy undressed then stood there as John looked him over. He probably wouldn't feel so awkward if his body wasn't covered in bruises. "You're gorgeous." John spoke, almost as if he could hear the other man's thoughts
"Normally I would agree with you but-" The tall man made a feeble gesture toward his body
"Your ass is fucking perfect too." John said circling around. Randy felt the man's warm hand gently caress his bottom. He suppressed a moan after John delivered a smack to his butt then soothed the reddened area. "You like to be spanked." John stated matter-of-factly. "Yeah?" Randy said nothing. John pulled him toward the end of the couch then pushed him down over the arm. "You need to answer me." Randy refused. He could tell John was getting off on humiliating him. "You're so stubborn. I want you to count, and before you think about disobeying me, you should know I can do this all night." John gave the left cheek a smack
"One." He smacked him again. "Two." And again. "Three!" Randy whimpered. The men made it to ten, five on each side before John stopped again and stated
"You like to be spanked."
"Yes."
"You should have just said that the first time." Randy could hear the rustling of fabric and then the sound of a zipper. He then felt the fat head of John's cock pressed against his ass, he whimpered again
Randy
How do I get myself into these situations? All I wanted was to get away and here I am bent over John Cena's couch about to be fucked after being spanked. He made me count for god's sake!
"John!"
"Relax." Relax? Relax!? Is he serious?! I bet he wouldn't be able to relax if he had the equivalent of a flesh-sized baseball bat shoved in his ass
"Oh my god." I hear myself moan. Jesus – even my own body is betraying me. He grabs my hips tightly and hammers me. I seriously want to hate him for this and all he's done but the truth is, I don't. Everything he's done thus far has either made me appreciate not dying before I made it out of New Jersey or made my body and mind feel amazing. I haven't appreciated life in a long time
"Harder!" John grunted and pounded the man in front of him. He'd expected to have a good time with Randy when he spotted him at the end of the bar but not like this. They hadn't finished and already John wanted more. He leaned forward and grabbed Randy by the shoulders for leverage. He smacked Randy's hand away when he noticed the man trying to get himself off faster
"No, not yet."
"I need to cum."
"You will but not yet."
"I…oh god."
"Did you-"
"I couldn't help it. Don't stop." Well John had no intention of doing that. Not until he was finished anyway. With a powerful thrust accompanied by a deep grunt, John reached his orgasm. Once he stopped shuddering, the man pulled out and shook his head when he realized that in his lustful rush, he skipped donning any protection
Next Morning
Randy awoke the next morning and stretched his tired and sore body. After their foray in the living room, he and John stumbled back to the master bedroom where John insisted on having him again, so Randy gave himself to the man and again sometime early that morning. Randy looked over and for the first time noticed that the other man wasn't in bed where he'd last seen him. Now alarmed, Randy sat up and listened for any sounds he could make out from where he was. Then he panicked and began looking around for his clothes. On the off chance that he'd been found, and they'd taken John out, he knew he'd be next and didn't want to die naked
"What are you doing?" Randy yelped
"You scared me!"
"Ok. What are you doing?" He took a seat on the bed and sighed
"I didn't know where you went and my brain started working overtime and I got scared. Where are my clothes?" Calmly, John pointed to a chair in the corner
"What were you scared about?"
"You were gone. I thought someone had gotten to you and killed you." John guffawed. "I'm glad you think death is funny."
"I don't necessarily but people have also attempted to kill me so I guess I'm used to it."
"My god. I don't want to get used to it." John walked over and ran his hand soothingly over Randy's head
"Tell me who's after you."
"Damn it, John. I already-" The once soothing hand slipped down to the back of Randy's neck and gripped him hard
"Tell me." John gritted through his teeth and squeezed harder
"His name's Tony."
"Tony what?"
"Baccalieri. Tony Baccalieri." A soldier in the Lombardo family
"Fuck. No wonder you didn't want to tell me you fucking snitch."
"Snitch?! You asked me repeatedly!"
"Yeah, I did." John said releasing the strong grip he had on the man's neck then kissing his forehead
"That fucking hurt."
"It was supposed to hurt. I wouldn't have done it otherwise." John sighed. "Why is he after you and how the fuck did you get caught up with those filthy Jersey fucks?"
"I told you last night why. I'm property to him which means he thinks he can do what he wants with me and that includes beating me when he feels like it. I don't agree."
John
Fuck! John thought as he listened to the other man speak. Sleeping with a guy's girl or guy, especially a made guy, is frowned upon. He could get killed for this, but he was already in too deep. There was no way he was letting Randy go now
"It doesn't look good for a made guy if his piece leaves him."
"No shit."
"Watch your mouth. How many times do I have to tell you that? I hate repeating myself. Don't make me say it again."
"Out of the pan and into the fire." Randy muttered
"What?"
"Huh?"
"Don't get cute. I'm not sure how I feel about you waltzing into my club looking for protection when you knew what type of shit you were facing."
"I'm sorry."
"So, this is what's going to happen, you come work for me at the club and I'll watch out for you."
"Do what at the club?"
"You can take that bartender job."
"I'm better at consuming drinks rather than making them."
"Then I suggest figuring it out because you don't have very many options."
"Ok. I already know how to make a few drinks. The rest shouldn't be too hard."
"That positive attitude will get you far." Randy looked up at the other man and asked
"What are you getting out of this? Do you get a cut of my pay…or all of it?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Yes. I'm getting you out of this. For my protection, I get to keep you. I haven't had a comare in a while so forgive me if I'm a little rusty."
"What's a comare?"
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
"A mistress or a little something on the side."
"I'm not a fucking mistress."
"You'll be what I say you are. The least you can do is be thankful for being my comare. In return you get a job, you won't die and you get to fuck me." Randy shook his head
"This is crazy."
"Ok. Then get out and see how long you last." John grabbed the man by his arm and hauled him off the bed
"Wait!"
"What?"
"I just realized how much I like not being dead." He let the arm go. "You're very pushy."
"I am. I'm an asshole too. And competitive and I always get what I want and feel I deserve."
"You're hedonistic."
"I am." John picked the tall man up then lay him back on the bed. Randy wrapped his arms around John's neck as the man kissed him deeply. Just as John started to bite his way down the willing man's neck, his phone rang. "Merda." He cursed getting up. "Yeah?" Randy sat up and watched the other man leave the room. Minutes later he came back. "I have to go to work."
"The club?" John eyed him. "Oh. What should I do?"
"Whatever you want as long as it doesn't involve your ass leaving this apartment."
"I need clothes and my toothbrush."
"I took the keycard from your wallet this morning and went to the hotel. Your stuff's here." John said closing the bathroom door behind him
