Chapter 8:


Love and Destruction

     By the time he rubbed the scent of cigarettes away in the afternoon dew, Actavio was fast asleep. With a heavy sigh Sylas slumped onto the hardwood floor, head in his hands. The urge to go for another smoke break tempted him, but he shook his head. He already didn’t want to take the last one but he became too flustered to withstand it any longer.

He got up and went to the kitchen, taking a gander at the fridge. Mostly empty save for some produce and poultry. And–ah! Booze, just what he was looking for. It was just red wine, some store bought cheap stuff (surprisingly), but it was better than nothing.

That reminded him, he hadn’t been to the bar yesterday because he was looking after Actavio. He never missed a day; it was the first miss in what…a few years?

Sylas drank the wine straight from the bottle as he sat on one of the kitchen stools, staring at his crush from over the counter. Slow breaths. Shimmering blonde hair.

A lone affectionate sigh.

As promised, he woke Actavio up by nightfall after checking his fever. It was still there, but steadily receding.

Lethargically the mafia boss blinked until his consciousness came to him.

“What?” The voice came out as a jumbled and irritated groan.

“You need to eat.”



“I heard you the first time.”

Actavio started to force himself to sit up, and when Sylas tried to stop him he swatted his hands away.

“I’ll be damned if I let you feed me too.”

He didn’t leave the bed. Evidently, he was still in too much pain. Prideful as always.

Sylas reheated the food and brought it over, to which Actavio didn’t even try to hide his disgusted eye twitch. In truth, he went to the best restaurant he knew but apparently not even that was enough for Actavio’s exceedingly high standards.

At the least he wasn’t spoiled enough to refuse it altogether, and so he silently ate the meal with his fancy cutlery–or more so just a little under half of it before giving it back.

“You don’t like it?”

“The taste isn’t displeasing, it’s…”

Sylas had never seen Actavio hesitate a response before, he was always so sure of himself every step of the way. It’s part of the vast number of reasons why he loved him so much after all.




“The seasoning is heavy.” Actavio corrected himself, but it seemed more like a cover up.

“That’s it?”

He paused again. God he’s so adorable.


Actavio turned his head away from Sylas, failing to hide what looked like blush; though it could’ve just been his still lingering fever.

In a barely audible mumble, he spat out, “Diet.”

“Oh!” Sylas started to genuinely apologize, but then took the opportunity to tease him further, “Right, sorry I forgot you eat like a rabbit.”

“Go to hell.”

He continued to grit his teeth in embarrassment, avoiding eye contact with the smirking delinquent.


     When Sylas had bought the food and retrieved the medicine, he went and procured another thing. An aphrodisiac. Just a small dosage, a little pill that he kept in his pocket as even now he wasn’t sure if he wanted to use it.

It was the third day that he’d been watching Actavio. Lorraine sent a text confirming that the man wasn’t lying about the poison or cure, not that he doubted it anyway. People will admit to anything under enough stress, even things they didn’t do.

Over the kitchen counter he watched Actavio’s slow breathing…and those glorious mounds. His cheeks weren’t flushed anymore, but he kept the cold rag over just in case though Actavio always threw it off every time he woke up.

Fuck those pecs. It should be a sin to just lay there so vulnerable like that with your chest out no less.

Ugh, fuck it.

Sylas crushed the pill under the flat end of a knife, sliding half of the dust into a glass of cold water then letting the other half drain down the sink.

Just a bit wouldn’t hurt.

He mixed the debris until it dissolved then set the glass onto the counter with a self-reprimanding sigh.

Am I crazy?

Drops of condensation streamed down from the side of the glass.

Crazy in love! Hahaaaa…

He couldn’t even laugh to himself. Really, what was he doing? If he wanted to sleep with Actavio again he’d be better off asking…then again he could blackmail him again.

NO! That was one time. Only once.

Just as Sylas reached towards the glass to empty it, the door flew open and nearly off its hinges. Several men in a mixture of body armor and suits but all with firearms flooded into the studio apartment, shouting all sorts of things that they didn’t give the time for him to understand before they shoved guns into his face.

The men parted, letting a tall stone-faced woman with short dark hair strut through. She was vaguely familiar to Sylas; he recalled seeing her a few times whenever the Merids made headlines. After searching the apartment (which didn’t take very long since it was just a studio apartment), a few of the men returned with a bow.

“The place is clear, Ma’am.”


She walked over to the bed where Actavio was hazily and steadily waking up. The instant he sat up, everyone including the woman fell to one knee.

With a still dazed groan, Actavio barked, “What the hell is this about?”

“Boss, you went missing.” The woman answered in a slightly concerned tone. “As per protocol we tracked you down to verify your safety.”

“And I’m fine. You can see I’m fine, or are you blind too? Get up, all of you. And get your guns out of his face.”

Following the order, the men backed away from Sylas.

Maybe he really was daft. He completely forgot how important Actavio was in the eyes of the public, and he really did inherently go missing which is enough cause for uproar for the Merids.


“Dagne. Take you and your men and leave. I understand your concern and I already took care of it. Go.”

“....Sir.” Dagne bowed and turned on her heel.

Hearing the name made the connection click: Dagne, his righthand man–or woman. The men surrounded her as she left, not before giving Sylas a judgemental and distasteful glare.

Actavio exhaled his irritation and stood from the bed, walking to the kitchen and rinsing his face off with water.

“You weren’t frightened, were you?”

“No, more confused.”

“Confused? Did you forget who I am?”

“Tell me about it.”

This time Sylas was the one who sighed, instead in exhaustion rather than likewise annoyance.

As Actavio reached for the glass of cold water, a refuting peep escaped his lips, “Wai–”

“Hmm?” He drank the glass as he answered.


“IIIII was gonna ask if you’re feeling better! I didn’t even realize it until now, but you walked over here on your own.”

“More or less. Enough to function at least.” Actavio placed the empty glass beside the sink. “Help me bathe.”

“What?” WHAT?!!!

“Did I stutter?”

“N-No, just–”

“Then what’s the problem? I may be feeling better, but I’d like to rest my body while I still can.”

“In other words you’re lazy?”

The words slipped out before Sylas could catch them and all he did was glare at him before walking away. That same icy glare. Yep, he was back to normal.


     Like the hopelessly in love idiot he was, Sylas looked away as Actavio undressed and entered the bathtub. Afterwards, he removed his dark denim jacket and draped it across the sink. His black tank top was probably in need of replacement from how loose it was, but it was his favorite and he couldn’t bear to part with it.

Sylas sat on his knees and retrieved a navy blue loofah, dipping it in the bathwater and rubbing it with a bar of soap before applying it to Actavio’s body—his…nude…body.

Was this a test? If so, it was only a matter of time before he failed, or the aphrodisiac kicked in and he failed by proxy.

He avoided eye contact with Actavio as he scrubbed down his frame, trying not to take too long in one area so as to not seem suspicious.

Just treat him like you would any other, come on. Ahhh he’s fucking staring at me!!



“Why did you agree to do this?”

Not fucking again with this bullshit trap shit–
“You didn’t seem like you were gonna back down, so.”

“Pfft.” Actavio chuckled.





Now he was smirking.

Oh God. This was too much. This was the worst test ever. He was going to fail. He was so going to fail!

“You do a lot for a man you barely know. Most people would rather kill me or hold me for ransom than gently wash me down.”

“Well, I’m not most people.”


Actavio settled in the bath water, closing his eyes. Did he really trust him this much? He really shouldn’t.

“...Did you want me to say no?”

“Truthfully? I’m not sure.”

There was a faint tint of red forming in his cheeks as he bit his inner lip and looked away, probably the aphrodisiac starting to kick in.

As if contemplating something, his gaze darted in a variety of locations but still not Sylas.

“You’re forgetting a spot.”

Of course he was avoiding Actavio’s groin, if he delved there he wouldn’t be able to retract his hands. But, was that an invitation? There’s no way he could misread this. It was an invitation. No doubt about it. Actavio couldn’t even look at him out of pride, it had to be!

Albeit a bit hesitant, Sylas slid the sponge down Actavio’s abdomen until it reached the base of his shaft; then he lightly shifted so as to not irritate the skin. He looked to the mob boss for approval, but he kept his head turned away.

“Use your hands.”

Now that was a clear cut invitation.

Sylas set the loofah aside then returned diligently to his work: giving his crush a handjob. In actuality he really wanted to show him how well he could work his mouth but that’d be pushing it too far. He already had no clue what prompted Actavio into this—Oh. The aphrodisiac. Now he felt guilty, just a bit. Well, he did try to stop him although a little too late.

The bathwater allowed for easy maneuver about his length; Sylas was going based off of feel alone, only using Actavio’s fidgets to guide him. He switched between pleasuring the member and tip, giving the former more stretched out fondles and the latter more teased traces.

Actavio covered his mouth as his cheeks grew more flushed in a soft shade of pink. Who knew that such a terrifying mafia head could be so adorable?

A cut exhale and rapid inhale leaked past his lips.

Against all will he reluctantly expelled, “This..won’t work. Get in.”

For a second Sylas thought he had done something wrong when in fact it was the opposite. He was asking for sex wasn’t he? Maybe the aphrodisiac wasn’t such a bad idea. It was really being his wingman right now.

The delinquent tried as hard as he could to hide his eagerly forming smile and pounding heart. As he undressed, he took another gander at his crush, still trying to maintain his self-respect by avoiding all forms of eye contact and therefore further affirmation as to what he asked for.

“The water will–”

“Just get in.”

He was lucky enough that Actavio for some reason put up with his occasional slips.

As expected, the instant he stepped in the water started to seep out of the tub’s surface and onto the tiled floor. The bathtub wasn’t all that large and it was already struggling to fit Actavio, let alone both of them as their legs were pressed against each other.

Before he could try and adjust to a better position, Actavio leaned in between his legs and encircled a hand about the half erection that he failed to contain. Still he didn’t look at him, even when he gradually pumped it; although nowhere near the same care that Sylas had formerly given him.

Sylas could only remember the amount of times he’s imagined this scenario and for it to finally become a reality felt nothing short of a merciless dream. It was for the better that he became stunned at the sight of his crush steadily jerking him off or else who knows what other panicked words might leave his mouth.

Once it reached a full and proud stand, Actavio repositioned himself backwards, likely to make it easier for him to avoid facing reality as much as he wanted to see those cold eyes.

All Sylas could do was watch as the love of his life oriented himself above his cock and cautiously lowered. After the head was in he drove the rest of it inside in one motion.

His shoulders momentarily buckled before straightening into his usual well formed posture, this time with more of an arch to his back. Some of the water had snuck its way in along with the penetration.

“Fuck..That feels strange.” Actavio mumbled to himself while Sylas pretended he didn’t hear; or rather was too sensory-overwhelmed to completely process the words.

Using the outer rim as support, Actavio started to move, rising and dropping his hips in varying rhythms until he found his comfort. With each drop, the bathwater splashed onto the surrounding walls and out of the tub, and some of it found its home within the mafia boss’s rear.

Actavio kept his head slightly angled, letting Sylas catch sight of his partially hidden face and its radiating beauty. Specks of water adorned the edges of his bangs, like diamonds swaying from an aureate chandelier. His skin given a coat of gloss from its damp nature as the swashes of water stuck to him as though it too wished for his love and warmth.

Sylas’s hands unconsciously found their way to his tailbone, then frantically sinking hips. He met Actavio’s plummet with his own thrust, forcing out a gasp and subsequent albeit momentary falter in his posture.


You have no idea how hard that is for me to do right now…

Although he wanted to completely take over, Sylas obliged and relaxed himself to the best of his ability. So, Actavio resumed with more clear desperation. Normally Sylas would become bothered by his lengthy strands floating around in a bath but he hardly noticed for once as he was too absorbed in the once-in-a-lifetime performance before him.

With the influx of water came an unnatural sense of pleasure in the foreign and unknown. Every now and then his hands would slip, both from moisture and from encroaching upon his limit.

Out of longing to climax with his love, Sylas disobeyed his orders and rammed in sync with the fall of Actavio’s rear. Too starved for an orgasm, he didn’t reprimand the delinquent again and instead let him do as he pleased. In no time was Sylas’s wish granted and they spasmed their last drive together.

A fuzzy cloud of cum streamed out of his ring, tainting the bathwater’s short lived purity. The panting Actavio stumbled to open the drain and come to a slow, labored stand while Sylas followed after. He flipped the shower handle to cleanse them more thoroughly than the bath.

It was hard to believe that he was smaller than him, not that he was small in general terms. Tall with an athletic build, but still smaller than Sylas himself. So huggable. Especially now that he was right there in front of him, basking in the downpour.

Just as he attempted to wrap his arms around, Actavio exited the bathtub.

“Turn the water off when you’re done.”

No sooner did he leave did he finish drying and walk out of the bathroom altogether, leaving Sylas alone with his affection once more.


     Haphazardly, he washed himself down and blow dried his hair. It all felt so fleeting–every moment that he had with his crush. Then again, it would never be enough, these little bits and pieces of interactions and intercourse. He wanted him. Now and always. He didn’t want him to come and go, he wanted him to stay with him and no one else. Give his time to him and no one else. Give every part of his being to him and no one else.

It seemed more and more like a fantasy the more he repeated the idea to himself. Actavio was unreachable—untouchable—unattainable—sacrosanct. He lived in his own world, far divided from his own. But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t try, and try he will.

When Sylas left the bathroom, Actavio was nowhere to be seen and the lights to the studio apartment were shut: his rude way of telling him to get out he imagined. To his pleasant surprise however, Actavio was waiting for him outside, fully dressed in his coat and suit.

“Took you long enough.” He instantly barked, hazel-blue gaze locked onto Sylas.

“My hair takes forever to dry.”

“Then cut it.”

“I like it long.”


“You’re curious?” The instinctual question left him.


Fuck, Sylas cursed himself, Shouldn’t have asked–wait why did he ask then??

A frigid breeze of the night blew past, sending a shiver down his spine. Apparently he didn’t do much of a good job with drying himself off, which Actavio found amusing enough to smirk again.

“You’re like a child in the skin of a man.”

For once, Sylas let his smile show despite how bashful it was. “Thanks?”

“It wasn’t necessarily a compliment, though it could be, albeit you lack the innocence for it.”

“Is that your fancy way of calling me a man-whore?”

“If that’s how you interpret it.” He chuckled again.

Evidently, Sylas was doing something right even if he had no clue what it was or how.

“Thank you, is what I should be saying. You inherently saved my life.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch don’t you think?”

“No, it isn’t. I said it before, most would’ve left me there or would’ve taken it upon themselves to hasten my death, but you helped me although you didn’t have to. That’s a kindness I don’t see very often in today’s world, let alone directed at me.”

In a normal situation, this would’ve been the optimal time for him to confess, and he knew that. But this wasn’t a normal situation, and Actavio wasn’t a normal person. Confessing now would only result in him being forever shunned and exiled from his crush, so against all whims he held in his professing of love.

Actavio sighed, then continued, “You may ask anything of me that you wish, as my way of repaying you. I don’t like to hold debts, and for one as vast as this, I’d prefer to get it out of the way.”

“Anything..?” Sylas repeated in disbelief in a self-mutter. Refocusing, he asked more vocally, “Can I get back to you on that?”

“If you need to.”

“How am I supposed to contact you then?”

“How do you think?” Actavio gave a faint smile that stunned the delinquent into an agape stare. “Then, good day, Sylas.”

He watched his crush walk away and enter his car with the image of his smile still painted across his irises. Once he left, he lit a cigarette and his mouth closed into a smile itself.

He said my name this time..

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