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The small group of formally dressed not-so-teenager looking men stood over Mafioso, who was still in bed. His face was burning red and covered in sweat, his breathing shaky and drawing out long breaths with his body buried under the blanket.
“Is he ok?” Said Consigliere, the man with the white top hat with a black ribbon that laid lazily tied around the base, spoke up and turned to one next to him. There stood Caporegime, the man with deep shades that hid his eyes. He had a rather tough appearance than Consigliere, his voice rough and low as he spoke, his arms crossed.
“Я правильно понял, да? Просто посмотрите на него.” “(I would assume not? Just look at him.)” He pointed to the man in the bed, his face firm as his breathing was loud and drawn out still. Another man stood at the foot of the bed who looked rather young, definitely no more than 30. He had a set of headphones on his head, and a black coated hat covering the top of them. He spoke, his voice light and a tad bit worried for his boss who was laying in bed, seemingly burning and struggling.
“I’ve never seen the boss like this before..” He seemed a bit curious, but mostly concerned. Soldier, who had a black fuzzy ushanka hat and a small curved look on his lips naturally. “C’mon, he’s probably just sick! We shouldn't worry THAT much.”
They all turned to Mafioso as he stirred and turned, pulling the blanket over his head. “So…” Contractee started, leaning against the nightstand. “What do we do?” Caporegime propped his glasses up his head, revealing his blue eyes which had a tired look, his right eye having a small scar under it. He turned to Contractee, his arms dropping to his sides. “Мы заботимся о нем.” “(We take care of him.)” This made Mafioso turn a bit, his eyes darkened at the sentence. He tried to quickly sit up before shaking his head and leaning back down, his head gently propped up on one of his pillows.
“No. You all-” before he could get in an actual sentence, he coughed. Heavily. Contractee made a face at this, seeming almost disgusted but more concerned than all. Soldier looked at him, worried. “Sir, with all due respect, I don't think you’re in any condition to be doing anything right now.” Mafioso sighed along with his heavy breaths.
“We have a job to do. We will get it done.” Caporegime shook his head. “Вам сегодня нужен отдых, босс. Пожалуйста. Вы слишком много работаете, и было бы неплохо сегодня взять выходной.” “(You need a rest today, boss. Please. You work too much, and it would be nice to take a day off today.)”
Mafioso turned to look at Caporegime, who had a serious look with softened eyes that showed clear worry for his higher up. He sat there for a moment before rolling his eyes. It stung a bit due to his heavy migraine, but he pushed the feeling off and laid back completely, taking advantage of Caporegime’s words. “..Fine then.” he was in no condition to be arguing, a bit annoyed but understanding as he spoke.
With that, he buried himself back under the blanket with a huff. “I’ll call the gambler!” Contractee had already run off, going to grab the shared family phone. Soldier went after him, his voice fading as he ran through the long hallway. “No, IM gonna call the gambler!” The two ran off, racing for the phone.
Consigliere sighed at them. “Such children…” Caporegime smiled a bit, shrugging. “Мальчишки есть мальчишки.” “(Boys will be boys.)” Consigliere chuckled at that, rolling his eyes playfully. “Yeah, yeah. Do you know if we have any more pain killers?” Caporegime thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Скоро пойду и куплю ещё. Последние мы использовали совсем недавно.” “(I'll go and buy some more soon. We used the last ones just recently.)”
Consigliere nodded. “Alrighty! Keys are on the nightstand in our room, and I forgot to put them back..” With that, Caporegime nodded and turned to the door, walking out down the long hallway. Consigliere turned to the strongly built man in the bed by him. “Boss,” he got his voice low, being not too sure to scare him or give him more of a headache.
“Ya like soup, right?” Mafioso gave a small nod once before stopping again, eyebrows furrowing. “Alright. It’ll be done soon. Do you want anything while it's being made?” Mafioso muttered a word, taking a moment for Consigliere to actually make it out. “..water.” he nodded. “Will do!” He smiled a bit as he dimmed the lights, making sure it wasn't too bright but not completely off so the area was still visible.
Meanwhile, downstairs, was Contractee and Soldier play fighting over the phone, which was dialing a number with the contact name that read “STUPID GAMBLRR 🗣🗣🗣🗣” Soldier was pushing Contractee as he laid on the couch, hiding the phone by his right ear as Soldier tried to pry him off. “I'm gonna do it!!” “Nuh uh!”
Before they could continue, the phone stopped dialing and a voice on the other line was heard. There was a lot of background noise, mostly slot machines and dice being rolled along with loud chatter and cheering around him. “Yyyyyello?” Said Chance on the other line. “GAMBLER!!” The two mafia boys said in sync. Chance jumped a bit. “Uh..yeah..?”
“Come over!!”
“I-..what?”
Soldier stole the phone from Contractee finally, putting it on speaker in his hands. “Boss is sick!” Chance didn't respond. He hung up. The two looked at the phone then at each other, confused. “He..probably lost signal?” Said Contractee, smiling nervously. “Oh please.” Soldier sat there, turning the phone off. He was soon pushed off of Contractee, who was now sitting normally on the couch.
Caporegime came downstairs, seeing the two on the couch. He spoke, putting a coat on with keys and a pack of cigarettes in his hand. “Я иду в магазин. Позаботься о боссе.” “(I'm going to the store. Take care of the boss.)” Contractee and Soldier smiled at him. “Aye aye, Capo!” They both said, smiling at him as they watched him walk out of the front door.
They both looked at each other for a moment before Contractee smirked challengingly. “I can make better tea for boss.” “Boss doesn't even like tea!” “yuh huh!” “Nuh uh!”
. . . . . . . . .
With the two running to the kitchen, they ran into Consigliere. He was boiling water with seasonings and a bag of potatoes next to him, which were cut up into smaller pieces. Soldier saw Consigliere cooking and went up next to him, looking over his shoulder. “Whatcha makin’?” “Soup.” He responded plainly, grabbing some more seasonings and mixing them into the water.
“Thats not how you make it!” Contractee said, looking over Consigliere’s other shoulder. “Yes it is..” Soldier looked at him with an ‘are you serious?’ look. “Stop bickering, please. We seriously should take care of the boss today. Can one of you make tea and a cup of ice water? He said he wanted some but I forgot.” Consigliere mixed the seasonings with the water.
Contractee looked at Soldier. “Told ya’.” He earned Soldier sticking his tongue out at him before turning and grabbing a plastic cup, filling it with ice. Contractee turned and grabbed the kettle before looking at Consigliere who was occupied with the stove. “So…how do I make it?”
Consigliere shrugged and continued cooking. “Just put it in the coffee maker or microwave, it's no different.” Contractee froze. “..you put yours in the microwave..?”
Before he could continue his protest, the doorbell rang. They all froze. Visitors…on their private property? They all looked at each other before Contractee went into a closet in the hall, grabbing his wooden plank with a large heavy nail, Consigliere’s sword, and Soldier’s crowbar. They slowly go down the long hallway, hiding behind the door.
The doorbell rang again and they all pulled the door open, weapons raised. Contractee hit forward, hitting the ground as the person ringing the doorbell moved to the side. “Woah- hey-!” They scooted back, panting a bit from the unexpected attack. It was Chance. He had a classic black suit and tie, a fuzzy coat covering his shoulders. His fedora now was on the ground, shades uneven.
They all took a moment before lowering their weapons. “Gambler!” Contractee and Consigliere spoke in sync, Soldier looking at him and putting his weapon on his shoulders, wrists holding it with enough weight to balance it. “But you hung up the call!”
Chance sighed, grabbing their fedora and standing up. “Yeah, because I was worried, I wanted to get here as soon as I could!” He dusted himself off, fixing their glasses and putting the fedora on their own head. They stood in an awkward silence before Consigliere sighed and turned, going back to the kitchen.
Contractee held the wood in his hands, stepping aside. “The boss is still in bed.” Chance nodded and allowed themselves in, taking their shoes off at the entrance. Soldier also stepped aside, giving Chance the room to walk down the hallway.
As they walked, they sighed as they spoke, lifting their arms and putting their hands behind their head. “So like…how sick is he?” Soldier and Contractee looked at each other. “Uh…” Contractee started, shrugging. “Like not getting out of bed and really warm, struggling to breath sick?”
Chance stopped walking for a moment before he dropped his hands to his sides. Soldier stopped as well, hands still resting on his crowbar as he looked at Chance, who was taking their fedora off, as well as their coat. They dropped it before bolting off, apparently much faster than their age allowed. “Woah-!” Contractee froze and watched as they bolted off.
Soldier and Contractee just stared. “Well I'll be damned..” Soldier said as he slowly lowered his crowbar, using his right hand to fix his fuzzy ushanka hat.
. . . . . . . .
Chance busted open the door to Mafioso’s room, opening it with a loud bang. Mafioso immediately jerked up, his arms shaking a bit as he struggled to prop himself up. He stared at Chance, who was panting heavily with their hand on the door handle.
“What are you doing here-” Mafioso furrowed his eyebrows, seeing how Chance just invited himself in and closed the door. At least his shoes were off..
Chance sat on the bed where Mafioso laid, slowly laying him back down on the bed. “Nuh uh.” They grabbed his face, leaning down in front of him. “Why the hell didnt you call me!” “Didnt have to’. The boys called ya anyways-” he turned away and covered his mouth, trying not to cough to hard as he pushed Chance off of him.
“Woah-” Chance pulled away. “Well don't do that you’ll hurt yerself!” Mafioso gave him an annoyed glare, still holding in a cough. After about 30 seconds, he finally lowered his hand, clearing his throat. “For real?” Chance raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Just..are you for real?” Mafioso rolled his eyes, laying back down and turning his back to Chance as he pulled the blanket back over him.
Chance sighed. “Y’know, for someone so tough and mean, you're extremely stubborn.” “Fuck you.” “Aww, how you hurt me so.” Chance smirked. (Bro is NOT good at ragebait💔💔) Before Mafioso could talk back, there was a knock at the door. “Boss?” It was Consigliere. He opened the door, holding a metal tray that had warm tea and soup. “It’s ready.” Chance slowly scooted back to make room for the tray.
Consigliere sat it on the nightstand, helping Mafioso sit up before placing the bowl on his lap. It smelt rather good, especially for someone who cooks rarely. Mafioso smiled and nodded at Consigliere, who placed the cup of tea on the nightstand and took the tray under his arm.
“You could help if you’re gonna stay.” he said to Chance, who was relaxed on the fluff mattress. “I am! I'm being a dude's emotional support.
“Im not your dude.”
“See! He’s just SO distraught!”
Consigliere rolled his eyes playfully, turning to Mafioso. “Be sure to eat it all, it’ll help. If you need anything, my phone is off silent.” Mafioso gave him a small nod, letting him know that he was acknowledging him. Consigliere glared at Chance as he walked out, almost as a ‘don't try or do anything stupid’ look.
Chance let out a breath he didn't know he was holding once the door closed, staring at it for a moment. “He’s definitely two faced.” “Oi,” Mafioso furrowed his eyebrows once again, looking at Chance. “That’s one of my boys yer talking ‘bout. Watch it.”
Chance raised his hands in defense. “Right, right, sorry..” Mafioso laid back down, eyes closed. Chance couldn't help but stare at the taller man's soft peaceful expression as he slowly took a sip of the warm tea in his hands. “Sooooo..” “Must you speak?” Chance gasped in exaggeration, feigning shock and hurt. “Im helping you!” Mafioso sighed, taking the sip of the tea before putting it down and exhaling.
Chance, seeing him put down the cup, takes it and takes a fast drink. “What- are you serious? You could get sick.” “Then you would have to come and take care of me!” Mafioso rolled his eyes once more. “No I wouldn't. You're a major handful.”
This made Chance chuckle a bit, leaning and resting a hand on his chin to prop himself up. “You say that, but you would.” This caused a small eyeroll from Mafioso, who had the spoon up to his mouth as he slowly blew on the hot soup.
“You know what would help.” “no.” Chance pouted at the immediate reaction, but leaned forwared anyways. “C’mon, just listen!” Mafioso sighed, slowly putting the soup into his mouth and taking a moment to swallow. Letting out an exhale, he looked at Chance with his tired eyes. “Fine. hit me.” Chance beamed, quickly but gently moving the tray of food onto the night stand and slowly climbing onto the bed.
“Hey, what- no-” Before Mafioso could continue his protest, he coughed and looked away as Chance messed up the blankets and pillows trying to get into bed with him. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” “Nope! Just relax, im here to help.”
Mafioso groaned quietly in feign annoyance, but relaxed as Chance leaned up against him. He took a long moment before wrapping an arm around Chance’s shoulders, resting his head back on the top of his pillow. “...just this once.” Chance hummed, closing his eyes as he laid and relaxed in the bed, an arm around Mafioso as he laid down.”Hm, better than nothing.”
Mafioso sat their for a long moment, waiting for Chance to finally pipe down. It didnt take long before they had eventually passed out, mouth open and body weighted down. Mafioso stared at him for a long while before leaning down and pressing a small kiss on the top of his head before leaning back and closing his own eyes, drifting to sleep.
I HATE GAYSYSYSYYSYS