The Punk's Mafia Prince (MxM)(18+)

Ch. 25 - Tattoos and Photographs

"We?" Max was lounging on his back on one of the chic modern couches, with his legs propped up over the back of it, and his head hanging slightly off the cushioned seat, so that everything looked upside down. Oz's burst of energy was baffling. Maybe he'd gotten a second wind? ...Max sure hadn't. His eyelids felt so heavy that even gravity didn't seem to be helping to keep them open. "You're already feeding 'information'-" Max made air quotes, "to Rufino Dina. I don't want you doing anything else. Da and I will sort out the mess with the Italians."

A small unconvinced smile pulled across the punk's lips before he lifted a can to his mouth and took a drink. Even with the label inverted, the bold lettering was unmistakable to Max as the reason for Oscar's sudden—and likely brief—burst of energy.

"Ah, so you can't trust me because I'm a rat?" Oscar reasoned as he slid off the stool and crossed the short distance to the couch. He stopped just in front of Max, and tilted his head to the side, drinking in his disheveled, but still handsome appearance.

"I can't guarantee that you won't get hurt," Max corrected. "The more you know, the deep you get into all of this, the more dangerous it is, Oz. Not your adrenaline-junkie variety thrills that get you off, kinda danger either. The shit my family deals in is the kind of danger that can get you in a lacquered box wearing your best suit. I don't want you involved."

Oscar's smile softened. "You really are worried about me..." he trailed off before clicking his tongue ring against his teeth and taking a seat on the floor beside Max, resting his head on the couch next to him. "I'm not as fragile as your mother and sisters... I can handle myself."

"I know you aren't," Max said softly and turned his head to kiss Oscar's temple. His expression was remarkably serious for someone laying on a couch the way a bored kid might. "And I know you can, from most things, but this isn't a normal type of life, even for most criminals...and keeping you as far from it as possible is the only way I know how to protect you..."

"Think it's a little late for that, don't you?" Oscar said as he traced his chipped black nails through Max's hair. "I mean...people can still get hurt whether or not they know why, right?"

"Right." Max sighed, finally allowing his eyes to close. "Please just respect that I don't want you getting into this any deeper..."

"Heh, alright," Oscar agreed as he continued to draw his fingers through Max's auburn locks. "You're lucky I like you..." he added.

Oscar could tell that Max wasn't used to hearing no, or not getting his way, and why should he when he grew up in the life that he had? On the other hand, the punk was all too familiar with not getting what he wanted or things going wrong, and he'd learned to adapt his expectations accordingly.

But with Max, Oscar didn't mind bending so that they could both get what they wanted. And at the end of the day, Max wanted him to be safe, which—while boring for Oscar—wasn't exactly a horrible thing. At the very least, Oscar decided to give it a try before he dug his heels in on anything.