A Day's Gamble
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
14,140
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
14,140
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 2
2.
Got in late, woke up even later. I was surprised Nicolo was still here. I cracked an eye open and he was staring at me. Dark eyes trained on me hard and angry, with the same edge that told me we were going to have an argument whether I wanted to or not.
He started in with, “You always say ‘a real man takes care of his responsibilities’ , ‘a real man handles things at home’…’a real man provides for his family’.”
I had my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, because this headache was killing me. “What do you mean?”
Nicolo was looking at me, eyebrow quirked and mouth drawn tight. Frustration clearly on his face, he looked tired. “You need to decide if this is what you want to do… because I am a man…” He grit between his teeth. “And I need to--” Pointed at his chest. “Take care of my responsibilities.”
I was shaking my head again, to control the urge to snap. It would be so easy to just kick the table, throw some pillows around or something then sit here shaking in anger. He was frustrated. Well, hell, so was I.
“So, you’re saying I’m not working. I’m not trying to take care of you?” I asked, getting louder. I couldn’t help it being pissed off.
Those thick pink lips…any other time they would have begged to be kissed. Now, they were just a thin angry line. His eyes flicked towards the backroom. It was still quiet. He turned back to me. “I’m working my ass off and if you weren’t fucking around--”
I jumped off the couch. “I’m not fucking around.” I yelled.
He yelled back. “Yes, you do. You only work part time at that little bodega when Garcia’s been trying to get you to take over for him. Fuck, even selling your art would be better--”
“Who the hell wants to work in a little bodega all their life? When paintings don’t sell, we don’t eat? We can’t all work downtown, kissing the asses of every rich bitch that walks in with a stack of cash.”
When I was done my chest heaved and we were both upset. Then, there was a noise coming from the backroom. A small inhale of air then the shrill sound of hungry screaming and loud startled crying.
Nicolo exhaled deeply, turning his back, he avoided looking at me for a minute. Finally, connecting his eyes with mine, he opened his mouth. “I’m saying you need to make a choice.” As he looked at me, I could see just how tired he was. Tired. Upset. Broken…I did this. I just wanted to wrap my arms around him. “‘Cause we won’t be here if you don’t make one.”
He’d made threats before now. Even said he’d leave me.
I could tell by the look in his eyes he meant it this time.
There was a guy standing over me. Talking loudly by the way his lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear him. The world was on mute. He was touching me though. I really wanted to shove his hands away. His fingers were on the side of my neck, turning my face.
Whatever he was saying, he wanted me to do it.
I couldn’t make out what it was.
Got in late, woke up even later. I was surprised Nicolo was still here. I cracked an eye open and he was staring at me. Dark eyes trained on me hard and angry, with the same edge that told me we were going to have an argument whether I wanted to or not.
He started in with, “You always say ‘a real man takes care of his responsibilities’ , ‘a real man handles things at home’…’a real man provides for his family’.”
I had my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, because this headache was killing me. “What do you mean?”
Nicolo was looking at me, eyebrow quirked and mouth drawn tight. Frustration clearly on his face, he looked tired. “You need to decide if this is what you want to do… because I am a man…” He grit between his teeth. “And I need to--” Pointed at his chest. “Take care of my responsibilities.”
I was shaking my head again, to control the urge to snap. It would be so easy to just kick the table, throw some pillows around or something then sit here shaking in anger. He was frustrated. Well, hell, so was I.
“So, you’re saying I’m not working. I’m not trying to take care of you?” I asked, getting louder. I couldn’t help it being pissed off.
Those thick pink lips…any other time they would have begged to be kissed. Now, they were just a thin angry line. His eyes flicked towards the backroom. It was still quiet. He turned back to me. “I’m working my ass off and if you weren’t fucking around--”
I jumped off the couch. “I’m not fucking around.” I yelled.
He yelled back. “Yes, you do. You only work part time at that little bodega when Garcia’s been trying to get you to take over for him. Fuck, even selling your art would be better--”
“Who the hell wants to work in a little bodega all their life? When paintings don’t sell, we don’t eat? We can’t all work downtown, kissing the asses of every rich bitch that walks in with a stack of cash.”
When I was done my chest heaved and we were both upset. Then, there was a noise coming from the backroom. A small inhale of air then the shrill sound of hungry screaming and loud startled crying.
Nicolo exhaled deeply, turning his back, he avoided looking at me for a minute. Finally, connecting his eyes with mine, he opened his mouth. “I’m saying you need to make a choice.” As he looked at me, I could see just how tired he was. Tired. Upset. Broken…I did this. I just wanted to wrap my arms around him. “‘Cause we won’t be here if you don’t make one.”
He’d made threats before now. Even said he’d leave me.
I could tell by the look in his eyes he meant it this time.
There was a guy standing over me. Talking loudly by the way his lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear him. The world was on mute. He was touching me though. I really wanted to shove his hands away. His fingers were on the side of my neck, turning my face.
Whatever he was saying, he wanted me to do it.
I couldn’t make out what it was.