My Mafia Host Family

When the time for payback came around, it was never pretty. Never. Vestige didn't want to be there. He wanted to be anywhere but there. The footmen that worked for his family had found the creep that had tortured Adam - another of their employees - and Dad had insisted on dealing with the guy himself. As soon as the guy was caught, Father had ordered his sons to come along to help. A frickin' family bonding experience?

And there they were, in an large cellar. It was a property barely a five minute walk from the estate, but the cellar had been completely soundproofed so that the neighbours wouldn't be disturbed. The enemy was tied to a table in the middle, well aware of what was going on. In fact, he looked calm and ready for what was to come. It almost seemed as if he knew he wasn't going to get out of their alive and had accepted it. Silvano was standing beside Manuel, his face as stone cold as ever. How could someone that was normally so cheerful, become so... heartless? It was something the job required of them, but no one in the family did it better than Silvano.

"My men tell me you've been giving them a hard time. You tortured half of them and now that they got you, you won't say a word!" Manuel paced calmly around the table as his sons watched. He paused by a table covered in tools and picked up a small knife. Still, the prisoner remained silent, so Manuel continued, "Now let's see. What did you do to Adam? Just a few cuts and fractures, right? Oh, I can't forget the missing nails. That had to hurt! You are really good at your job, but it's too bad you chose the wrong side to utilise those skills for."

The blade pressed against the prisoner's arm, and then dug in. There was barely even a flinch as the instrument was dragged down and blood began to seep out of the fresh cut. Vestige wanted to look away, but he knew better than to show weakness there. If that creep survived his night, there was no doubt he'd be reporting to the enemy every single detail about this experience, especially anything that could be used against the Ferraras, so they had to be extremely careful. That meant obeying every one of their father's orders without hesitation. Vestige had learned the hard way, years ago, that refusing would make him appear as the weak link, and the enemies had loved that!

Manuel glanced at his watch and then smiled at his sons. "I've got an appointment to get to, but my boys will make you squeal like a pig, won't you boys?" He started walking out the door. Vestige couldn't believe his father was actually leaving it to them! And then he was gone. Where the hell was he going?! Why hadn't they been told about a damn appointment?

Vestige hated his father.

Silvano was quick to the table full of tools and was concentrating on choosing one. He almost seemed excited like a sadistic little boy on Christmas morning. He eventually abandoned the table and went off to the side to claim a small sledgehammer, and then his cold gaze landed on his brother. "Unstrap him, for me, please. I need you to hold his arm in position."

Oh god. Vestige complied immediately, but his movements were a little too robotic. He didn't want any part in this, but he just couldn't argue. That would be stupid. He unstrapped one of the man's arms and easily put it onto a table. The creep didn't even resist for a second. But still Vestige had to hold the arm there.

"See, Eliseo. This is what these guys do. They think if they act passive, it will take all the fun out of it and they won't get it as bad. This guy's lucky, though." Silvano's voice was just as cold as his face as he lifted the hammer slowly as if to inspect it. "He's lucky because I never liked hearing grown men scream and beg for their lives. I prefer the passive ones, because then I can hear the sound of their bones breaking."

Suddenly the hammer smashed down on the man's hand, and a loud crunch echoed through the room. The spray of blood hit Vestige in the face but he had closed his eyes and mouth just in time. The creep's mouth was open in a silent gasp, and as the hammer was lifted again, what was left of his hand looked... It just didn't look real.

"Now his other hand."

The order came as a shock. Vestige blinked with confusion at his brother. It was hard to believe that monster was a year younger than him. When he was met by an insistent nod, he unstrapped the other arm, willing his own hands not to shake. 'Don't be weak, don't be weak,' he told himself. It was no use. He wasn't made for this, and he didn't want to be! When he held down the second arm against the table, the victim finally began to struggle.

CLANG

The hammer missed. The man was up and running in a matter of seconds. Vestige didn't even quite process what had happened until he caught the dirty look he was getting from his little brother. Had he let go? When Silvano motioned to him, he knew he had to fix what he had done. The victim was running for the door - and the guards stationed around the room did nothing. Obviously they were took their command seriously to let the Ferraras handle this one themselves.

No time to lose, Vestige leapt on the guy, deaf to the resulting scream. He had accidentally grabbed the mangled hand. Or maybe it wasn't accidental? he wasn't entirely sure. He twisted the guy's arm back and once he had him secure, he turned the guy around toward the table.

Silvano was blocking the path. Before Vestige or his prisoner had a chance to react, the hammer swung down hard, hitting the victim in the kneecap. There was a pop, and the Vestige looked down. He regretted looking immediately. The bone was sticking right out of the back of the guy's leg, and blood was falling on Vestige's boot. Nausea was beginning to overcome him, but before he had a chance to succumb to it, the hammer was suddenly swung like a baseball bat, and smashed into the side of the guy's head.

It caved in. It kind of reminded Vestige of when he and his brothers used to smash pumpkins on Halloween. In a moment of morbid fascination, Vestige watched as the blood oozed from the head wound onto him. It was sticky and warm. For a second it was just so comforting, but that passed quickly as reality set in, and a sudden tremor throughout his whole body made him drop the body.

"Is... Is he dead?"

Silvano gazed down at the man. When he saw a faint breath being drawn, he swung the hammer down on the head once more. "Now he is."

~~~~~

It was kind of funny how fast blood dried. All it took was driving home - which took about a minute - with the windows down. Vestige had needed the air. He felt as if he`d faint if he closed himself up in a small space at that moment. The blood was all over his car seat, so as soon as he got out, he instructed one of the body guards to have the interior cleaned and the seats reupholstered. Last thing he needed was some cop noticing on his way to work.

When he got in the estate, he didn`t want to face anyone, so he entered through a side door and went straight up to his room. He opened the door, and sort of stumbled in. All he wanted to do was lay down and wait for the sickness to pass. But as soon as he caught sight of the man sitting at his desk, he remembered that he was sharing his room. How would he explain? He couldn't lie like the rest of his family... He gazed stupidly down at the calculator and math book Pazhar was working with, and then in a small voice, questioned, "Do you know what time it is?"

With a sigh, the Fendarian checked his watch. "Nine thirty." He answered, then added, "I borrowed your calculator, I hope you don't mind."

"Uh... no... I don't mind." Vestige looked at the bathroom door. He knew he should go clean himself up. He felt so damn filthy, but he didn't know where to begin. How could anyone feel clean after that? For a moment he just stared, and then he managed to snap himself out of it. Just put one foot in front of the other. Easy!

"Eliseo..." Pazhar said, which made Vestige stop and stare. "What happened?" He asked insistently.

"I can't... Please, Pazhar, don't make me talk about it..." Vestige exhaled a shaky breath and resumed his slow walk toward the bathroom. "I don't want to be Eliseo tonight. Call me Vestige."

The Fendarian fixed him a worried look. "Come on, you have to talk..." He sighed, pushing slowly to his feet. "With all that blood, I think your roommate deserves to know."

Vestige took another step before realising he was leaving bloody footprints. Shit... He crouched down and started undoing his boots. "You're right, you do deserve to know, but..." He trailed off, not knowing how to continue. As the boots eventually came off, and he stood up relatively straight again, he gazed pleadingly into Pazhar's eyes. "Don't ask."

With a louder sigh, the Fendarian shook his head, then turned to pick up the books and the calculator. "Fine, fine, I'll leave you alone." He grimaced slightly as he cast another worried glance at the other youngster, then headed for the door.

No, that wasn't what he wanted at all! He reached out, but stopped himself. He didn't want to get any blood on Pazhar. "Where are you going? Don't leave..."

Pazhar met his gaze, then blinked a few times. "Alright..." He put the things back down, then let his eyes wander over Vestige's blood-soaked fishnet and vinyl outfit. "You really should change." He finally said.

"Yeah... I can't touch anything though. Could you," Vestige motioned to the closet as he tried to think of the right words, "get out something for me? My pjs are in the back somewhere..." He glanced down uncomfortably at his hands and then started toward the bathroom once more.

Shrugging, the Fendarian turned around, and a few moments later, he walked up beside him and tossed the pjs over onto the bathroom counter. "Want any help with anything?"

Vestige turned on the tap. He'd clean the faucet after. For now he simply focused on unclipping the bondage straps holding his shirt together, and even once they were off for the most part, he had to peel the fishnet off. "I don't know... Maybe." He cleared his throat and glanced over at Pazhar. How would he ever get that guy to respect him after this? "Man, this is disgusting."

For some reason, the black-haired youngster quickly got out of his basket uniform, tossing it over onto the bed. "Don't want blood on it." He said with a nod towards the bed, then walked over to pick up the sponge, only wearing his underwear. Vestige unzipped the vinyl part of the top as Pazhar took water onto the sponge, then walked around him and started to gently rub the purple-haired guy's back with it.

It was almost enough to relax him. Vestige paused for a moment to focus on the feel of the sponge, and then he leaned over the sink to wash his hands and splash his own face with water. He knew his hands would just get dirty again when he finished undressing, but he just wanted to have a clean face. "... Thanks. For the help, I mean."

After sponging his back down thoroughly, Pazhar smiled at him in the mirror. "When you're done with your face, turn around."

"Okay." Once the water going down the drain was reasonably clear, he turned around to face Pazhar and smiled sheepishly. This was not how he wanted to get to know the new guy, but given the situation, he was glad Pazhar hadn't left him alone. "You've had one crazy welcome to this city, haven't you?"

"I'd say." With a smirk, the Fendarian put his hand under the flowing water, taking a handful up to the purple hair. "Between this and that note I got earlier today..." He stopped, then quirked a brow. "You have to get your head lower. This won't work."

Vestige looked the man over with confusion, and then lowered down to his knees. It was strange looking up at the man at that angle. "What note?"

Brushing as much of the purple hair as possible back, Pazhar started rinsing it in the hot water. "Someone stuck a note in my bag." He paused, then forced a smirk. "Wanted me to put some code into your family's computers, offering me a reward for it."

"You're telling me about it, so I guess that means you didn't do it." Vestige's eyes closed momentarily. He was already beginning to think Pazhar was a trustworthy guy, but that proved it. For once he had someone under that roof he didn't completely loathe, but now the trick was going to be not scaring Pazhar off.

After rinsing a bit more, the Fendarian shrugged. "Of course I didn't. I gave it to your dad." He sighed, then gazed down at Vestige. "I think that's about as clean as I'll get it. Maybe it's time for you to take your pants off?" He winked as he ran a hand teasingly over the other's shoulder.

Vestige cringed at the mention of his father, and all the unpleasant memories of where all that blood was from came back to him. He pushed back up to his feet and wrung his hair out before tugging down the zipper on the side of his pants and then tugging them down. His hands were dirtied once again. Great. He sighed and kicked the garment off. "I'm sure that old bastard will take care of it."

Pazhar smirked again. "You look fine underneath everything... that's good." He picked up the sponge again, then started on Vestige's legs. Since he was only wearing a thong at this point, he was rather exposed, and after working his way up, the Fendarian was sponging the cheeks of his backside.

With a curious glance back, Vestige quirked a brow. He had people help him clean up before, but nobody had been that thorough without getting awkward. There was definitely something different about Pazhar, but he wasn't entirely sure what that was. "Am I clean enough to lay down without having a bed of blood by morning?"

Gazing at the other youngster's body, Pazhar nodded. "As long as you don't step into anything on the floor." He said, then started washing his hands.

Okay, that meant it was time to get into the PJs. After grabbing the bottoms and stepping into them, Vestige kept his eyes on Pazhar. It was nice to be in something that wasn't plastic every once in awhile, for a break. He tied the bottoms to secure them around his waist and then moved toward the other man. "I hope this doesn't scare you off. I don't come home like this often, I swear."

The Fendarian chuckled. "Actually I figured that out on my own. If you did this a couple times per week, you probably would go somewhere else than to your room and getting it all red."

"Good point. Red never was my colour..." Vestige put a hand on the other man's shoulder, and it slipped further to the back of the neck. In the next moment, he captured the man's lips with his own. He hadn't known he was going to do that, but now that it was done, he was much more satisfied with skin-on-skin than having that damn sponge between them. When he noticed the kiss becoming mutual, he parted Pazhar's lips with his tongue and moved his body closer.

One of Pazhar's hands slid around his lower back, the other into his hair. The foreigner explored his mouth eagerly for a while, then pulled back with lustful sigh. His eyes narrowed with libido before they went out of sight, as Pazhar leant over to his ear. "You sure you're in the mood right now?" He asked softly.

"I wouldn't have let you touch my ass a minute ago if I wasn't." There was a second's pause and then the shorter man pulled away so he could make his way back into the bedroom. Had to be careful not to step in any blood.

With a grin, Pazhar followed, moving over to a bag and pulling out a little tube. "I guess I might be needing this one, then." As Vestige made his way to his bed, the Fendarian followed and slid an arm lightly around him. "Why the pj bottoms?" He asked with light laughter.

"I got cold. I am kinda wet, ya know." Vestige smiled and then wrapped his arms around Pazhar's neck. "Besides, I hadn't been planning on kissing you when I put them on."

After a playful flick of his tongue, the Fendarian wrapped his arm more tightly around the other youngster and slid his free hand into the purple hair. Then he leant forward, engaging in a determined, drawn-out kiss.

Vestige sighed softly through his nose as his eyes drifted closed momentarily. As much as he hated the idea of doing something like that in his parents' estate, that just didn't matter. He figured he could dwell on it later. When the kiss ended, he brought one arm down between them and slipped his hand beneath the other man's boxers.

Pazhar took a few deep breaths, then started running his tongue slowly up Vestige's cheek. The arm he had around the other youngster drifted down to the lower back, and as the purple-haired youngster groped his manhood, he let out a shaky sigh.

It was fascinating, watching the man's face as he fondled him. Vestige pressed his lips to Pazhar's neck in slow gentle kisses as he continued to stroke the member. "Take it off."

Sliding his hands off the other man, the Fendarian reached down and undid Vestige's pant string, letting the garment fall down to the floor. He pushed his own boxers down a bit with his hand, then brought his hands back up to the purple-haired head, starting another energetic kiss.

The young Ferrara wrapped his fingers around the other man's shaft and gave it a brief pump. He explored the other man's mouth, making a small attempt to dominate the kiss, but most of his focus was going into the movements of his hand.

His thong was pushed down a bit, and as Pazhar's lips left his, he felt a hand cup gently around his backside. With slow, soft movements, the Fendarian stroked it, gradually getting his fingers closer to the opening. "Should we lock the door?"

"Uh... No, it's fine." Vestige swallowed and took a deep breath. It was difficult to keep his mind from melting when he was so close to the action. He nodded at a toy laser gun on his bedside table. "Since I started shooting intruders with that, they stopped coming into my room without permission."

Pazhar uncapped the tube, then brushed Vestige's backside some more, before gently parting the cheeks and moving his finger to rest against the other man's entrance. He pulled his head back so he could claim eye contact as he started to push the fingertip inside.

Vestige supressed a shiver and his gaze faltered. Modesty wasn't his thing, but the situation wasn't normal, and he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Strange that the nervousness came after he had groped and made out with the guy. Yet, after a deep breath and stroking the other man's shaft once more, his nervousness disappeared.

With a satisfied sigh, Pazhar slid the finger deeper, then snaked up tight against Vestige's body. "You're not having second thoughts, are you..." he panted, then flashed a quick smirk and went for another firm kiss.

It was almost amusing, but Vestige was too distracted to laugh. As the kiss ended, he gulped back a moan and shook his head. "No... Should I be?"

Pulling his finger out, the Fendarian started coating two. "No... you just seemed scared there for a moment. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you hadn't done this before." He shook his head, smirking for a few moments before pushing his fingers inside and flickering his tongue over Vestige's lips.

That time he did laugh. Him? Virginal? He grinned and panted against the taller man's mouth. In a joking tone, he responded, "I was wondering whether I should have made you buy me dinner first. Now I just feel easy."

"And you don't want to feel easy?" Pazhar smirked as he started scissoring and brought the other hand around to enclose Vestige's manhood. "Well, I reckon uneasy isn't as good as hard." He started pumping the erection firmly in synch with his finger movements.

A moan escaped his mouth as his eyes drifted down to look at what was happening. It felt too damn good; he couldn't possibly concentrate on the conversation! His voice ended up coming out in a distracted mumble, "Hard is fucking right..."

~~~~~

kylee: Catfight or threesome? Yeah, that sounds fun :)

Lisa: You're right, Ferrara is an Italian name, but the fic is not meant to take place in any real world country. Pazhar is from the imaginary country of Fendaril, a hot and dry country recently ravaged by a civil war.