The Boss' Property

Bruno was stuck in a fender bender, waiting for the officer to interrogate him. A few minutes before the minor collision, the boss, who is also his boyfriend, called. He was high off his mind and shouted at Bruno, distracting him from the road and causing him to crash into a police car.

The officer got out of his car and lowered himself to look at Bruno, who tried not to look at him and texted his boss what had happened. The cop knocked on his window, causing him to roll down his window.

“I’m sorry, officer, but I—” Bruno looked at him and was stunned by his beauty. His eyes, a purple-yellow gradient, were gorgeous, and he had kissable lips.

“An apology isn’t going to fix this.” He looked stern.

“About that, my boy—” Boyfriend felt like the wrong word, and he didn’t want to explain. “Someone argued with me on the phone.”

“An explanation isn’t going to either. Unfortunately, you’ll have to pay for the damage.”

“Oh boy.” Bruno relaxed in his seat. “I just thought I should explain.”

The two heard a loud sports car in the distance, and it got closer and closer. It was Diavolo’s ugly red car. He stopped when he saw the collided cars, got out, and slammed the door shut. “Fucking hell, Bruno!” He approached his boyfriend, slightly bent so Bruno could get a good look at his angry face. “The fuck were you thinking, slamming into an officer’s car?”

“It was an accident.” Bruno’s voice shook, and his arms, still on the wheel, were also shaky. “You were yelling at me on the phone, and I needed to go—”

“Enough! Just shut up!” Diavolo then faced the officer and threw a bunch of money at him. “Take it. Go somewhere nice.”

Bruno had his mouth wide open. “That’s way too much money!”

“I have more.”

The officer cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir. You were speeding over the speed limit, and I noticed blood on your tires.”

“Blood?” Bruno looked at his boss’ tires. “Oh my goodness! What have you done?”

“Don’t worry,” Diavolo replied, sounding calm. “It was just a cat. You won’t arrest me for running over a cat, would you?” He stood straight and faced the officer.

“No, but maybe you’re lying and ran over a small child.”

“A small child?” the boss scoffed. He then slowly walked towards him. “Wow. I am no murdered, officer—what’s your name?”

“Abbacchio.”

“Officer Abbacchio, check up the hill to see what I ran over. I assure you, it is not a small child.”

Abbacchio looked at Bruno. “You there, Bruno, was it? Step out of the car and watch him while I check out.” He went over to check.

Bruno obeyed and stood next to Diavolo, who tightly gripped his arms when he got close.

“Ouch!”

“You whore, look at how much trouble I’m in.”

Diavolo let go, and Abbacchio returned.

“You didn’t run over a small child, but you did make one cry,” the officer said. “A shame I can’t arrest you for being an asshole.”

“Shut up. Take my money and leave.” Diavolo threw more money at him, causing his boyfriend to facepalm. “That should be enough.”

“I’m sorry, Abbacchio,” Bruno said.

“Don’t be,” he replied, picking up the money on the ground.

Later, they all left, heading their separate ways, or so Bruno and Abbacchio thought.

-

It was dark, and Bruno was on the phone with Diavolo again, heading to the bar.

“Why the hell did you let me throw so much money at that cop?” the boss yelled.

“You were high off your mind when I left, and you still were when I told you I needed help,” he replied. “Can you go one day without using drugs? That’s all I ask.”

“Truly?”

Bruno was quiet for a few seconds, and then he sighed. “Well, no. I know about you and Prosciutto.”

“And Risotto and Melone, too, right?”

His eyes widened, and his heart shattered into pieces. More lovers? Teary-eyed, he hid in an alleyway so no one could look at his pathetic state. “T-them too? D-do they even know?”

“If you want, I can maybe get an orgy together. Hey, are you sick? I can hear you sniffing.”

Bruno hung up the phone, sobbing uncontrollably. Minutes later, he stopped and went to the bar. Bruno thought about getting drunk and falling in love with a stranger to get revenge on the boss. He imagined how it would go: get drunk, have sex, and call the boss in the middle of it.

Bruno went inside the bar and noticed two familiar faces. Risotto was there, talking to some pink-haired guy. For a second, Bruno thought the pink-haired guy was Diavolo, but the guy was short and slim, and the boss had green dots in his hair. Oddly, he wore similar pants, or he was another guy Diavolo slept with and took his pants. Risotto picked up the pink-hair stranger and lustfully made out with him, grabbing his ass.

Does everyone in the gang cheat on each other? Bruno wondered.

He looked away, turning his head toward the officer he had met a few hours ago. Abbacchio, still wearing his uniform, sat near an empty seat, so Bruno approached him.

“Hello,” he said, causing the cop to pause mid-drink with eyes wide open as if he was in trouble. “May I sit here?”

Abbacchio put his drink down. “You’re not here to get me in trouble, are you?”

“No, I’m sorry about what happened, though.”

“Then you can sit. It’s fine. Bruno, was it?” the cop asked, and the other nodded in response. “So, what brings you here? Did you have another fight with your boyfriend again?”

Bruno sighed. “Yeah, you guessed it. He got mad at me for all the money he threw at you, but there was more. I mentioned the name of a person he cheated me on.”

The bartender noticed Bruno and tended to him. “Anything I can get for you?”

“Whiskey, please.” The bartender poured his order into a glass and gave it to him. “Thanks.”

“He gave off the impression that he was a scumbag,” Abbacchio commented. “His car is obnoxious, and he’s verbally abusive towards you. You should leave him as soon as possible. He seems to throw money at his problems, so I wouldn’t rely on calling us for help.”

“Thanks, he hasn’t hit me yet.”

“Yet?” Abbacchio took a sip of his drink. “What do you see in him?”

“He helped me once.” Bruno should probably leave the part out of him being in the mafia. “But I had to do things for him, work for him. We didn’t fall in love at first sight, but as the days passed, we got close to each other. That’s when I saw the real Diavolo. He’s always high, and when he isn’t high, he’s having sex, usually with me, sometimes with others. I tried to get him to quit.” He drank all his whiskey. “Bartender, may I please have another? Thanks.”

“I don’t know if I can help you to convince him to quit. He needs to help himself.”

“I don’t think a person like him can change.” He downed his drink and asked for another. Bruno felt woozy. “You saw what he did. He ran over a cat and acted like he had done nothing wrong. By the way, I remember you said there was a crying child. Did their parents approach you asking to arrest this man?”

“Yes, and I told him I couldn’t do that. I got an earful from that bunch. I wanted to, but you don’t hear about cops arresting people over roadkill.”

“Really? So, people can just kill people’s pets?”

“No, people can still get arrested for that.”

“So, what makes this different?”

“Well, um, do you love your boyfriend?”

“Oh god.” Bruno downed his drink again and looked at the bartender. “Another drink, please. Thanks again!” He faced Abbacchio and smiled. “Fuck no. He calls me the whore, yet he sleeps with three different people. One of the guys was here, but I’m guessing he went off to fuck the pink-haired twink I saw earlier. You couldn’t have missed him. He’s this big buff guy with short white hair, like yours, but his eyes are weird-looking. Haha! Shit, but I prefer you, though. Risotto’s scary.”

Abbacchio slightly blushed. “Thanks, you’re not bad either. You said you met your boyfriend because he helped you once. I wish I could’ve helped you instead. Also, you should lay off the drinks. Hmm, I probably should too.”

“You’re right. I’m just so upset! I feel dizzy. I think I’m going to—”

Abbacchio caught him before he could fall.

“Are you okay?” Abbacchio gazed into his eyes, causing Bruno’s face to turn even redder.

“I am now.” He tried to kiss him, but the cop put a finger to his lips.

“Hey! I should take you home. I’ll pay for your tab. Where do you live?”

“Near the beach, but you need to drive to get there unless you want to walk far.”

“Shit, I can’t have you in my house. You’re drunk.”

Bruno smiled. “Why can’t I be at your house drunk?”

“Didn’t you just try to make a move on me?”

“Do you not like me?”

“Well, you’re attractive.” He blushed. “But you’re with someone.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does. You’re with someone.”

“What would you do to me if I wasn’t.”

“For now, nothing because you’re drunk. If you were sober, that’s a different story. Please, don’t you have anyone to call?”

“Do you want me to call my boyfriend?”

Abbacchio’s face soured. “No!” He sighed. “Alright, fine. You can crash at my place for tonight.”

Bruno hugged him. “You won’t regret it.”

-

Thank goodness Abbacchio tidied up the house before leaving the bar. It was hard to clean the place when he lived by himself. He placed Bruno on his sofa and sat with him.

“You’ll be resting on the couch,” Abbacchio said.

“What? I’ll be resting here?” he said drunkenly, getting close to him. “I was hoping we’d be resting together.”

“Don’t worry. It’s comfy. I can’t remember the numerous times I’ve fallen asleep watching TV. Anyways, goodnight.”

Before he could get up, the black-haired man grabbed his arms. “Wait! You’re not interested in me at all?” His eyes looked teary.

“I am. I like you a lot.”

“Then why aren’t we doing anything? Do you want to kiss? Do you want to fuck? Do whatever you want with me.” He started unbuttoning his jacket.

“Bruno! Quit it!” He grabbed his arms.

“Make me!” His face got closer to his.

“Alright, fine!” Abbacchio leaned in for a kiss, bruising their lips together. Bruno fell into the sofa, squeezing him tightly before he could withdraw his lips. Then Bruno rubbed his crotch against his and tried to take his uniform off.

Abbacchio used his strength to get out of his embrace and off the couch. “I don’t think we should be doing this. I’ll be taking advantage of you in your drunken state.”

They both panted and sweated.

“I don’t mind,” Bruno said, spreading his legs and unzipping his pants.

His face turned red, and he looked away. “I’m—I’m going to bed. Goodnight!” He rushed to his bedroom, locked the door, changed into something comfortable, did his nightly ritual, and finally went to bed. Except he had trouble sleeping.

Curious to know how Bruno was holding up, he put an ear to his door and heard sniffles. He sighed. When tomorrow comes, maybe Bruno will understand.

-

Bruno woke up on a sofa. He sat, examined the room, and noticed how tidy the living room was. Did he manage to sleep with a stranger? Odd, there were no aches in his body. There was, however, a headache.

“God damn,” he said, laying back on the couch.

A door opened unexpectedly, causing Bruno to jump from his seat.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Abbacchio asked. He still wore his pajamas.

“I was with you?” Bruno asked.

“Yeah. You don’t remember last night?” The cop walked to the kitchen, grabbed a slice of bread, and placed it in the toaster.

“No. What happened? Did we—”

“No, but we did kiss. It wasn’t gentle. You wanted to sleep with me.”

Bruno’s face went red. “Oh, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I should leave.” He got up from the couch.

“Wait!” He stopped for him. “You’re sober now.” Abbacchio looked flustered. “Before you leave, do you want to kiss again?”

“Yeah.” He approached him and compared his height. “Wow, you’re tall.”

Abbacchio leaned down for a kiss, and his lips were soft.

“I should go,” Bruno said.

“No, stay!” He took his hand, stopping him from leaving. “I don’t mind you here, and I don’t have to go to work.”

“Alright, I supposed I could—” Bruno’s phone rang, interrupting him. He checked the caller ID, saw his boss texting him, and rolled his eyes. “You know who it is.” He answered it. “What?” he greeted angrily.

“Bruno, I need to have a word with you right now. Pronto.”

Diavolo ended the call on him. “Wow, and he didn’t let me say goodbye. Well, I have to leave. My asshole boyfriend needs me.” He pecked him on the cheek before leaving.

“Stay safe!”

Bruno got out of his house. He was unsure where he was, but he’ll find a way. He wasn’t used to being around apartments and houses. However, before he could wander and explore, he spotted a black van and knew who the diver was. Melone drove the van. Bruno waved at him, and he stopped.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked him.

Risotto opened the van door. “Diavolo wants you. You should get in.”

Bruno sighed. “Yeah, I know.” As he jumped in, the other jumped out. “Hey, where are you going?”

“None of your business,” the assassin said.

Before Bruno could question anymore, he felt tired, exhausted. For some reason, it was hot in this van. Suddenly, he forgot what he wanted to ask him and just napped on it.

-

Bruno woke up on a stone floor. There was barely any light, but he knew where he was: the boss’ basement.

“Boss!” he called out. He sat up. “Leone!”

Silence.

“Anyone? Please…”

He heard a groan nearby and hoped it wasn’t who he thought it was.

“Lights on,” Diavolo said.

Someone turned on the dim lights, and Bruno saw an empty wooden chair and Abbacchio’s bloodied and beaten body. His boyfriend’s chest slowly rose up and down, indicating he was still alive. Next to him stood Prosciutto and Risotto.

Bruno could handle Prosciutto, but he wasn’t sure about Risotto, and there was no winning when the boss was around.

He stood up, ready to attack. “Sticky Fingers!” he called out, summoning his stand. “Ack!”

A bunch of needles pierced his cheeks, causing Bruno to kneel and the boss to cackle. The creek in the wooden stairs told him the boss was descending. “That was stupid. You should’ve known better.” He looked at Bruno, holding a cold glass in his hand.

“Don’t,” whimpered Abbacchio.

Diavolo threw the glass at the cop’s head. “Silence, pig!”

“Stop!” Bruno begged.

“Why would I listen to a cheater?”

“You’re the one who cheated on me first!”

“I only care about you!”

“Then why did you sleep with these two?”

“You’re not always here by my side.”

“I hate you!” Bruno raised his voice.

“Then why were you with me?” Diavolo raised his voice even louder.

“You won’t let me break up with you!”

“Yes, I would.”

“Then let us go.”

“No. I trusted you to be faithful, and this is what you deserve. Prosciutto, weaken these two. Risotto, torture him as slowly as possible.”

“What about your ice?” the blond asked.

“I’ll go upstairs and get another,” Diavolo answered. “Besides, I want a break from hearing this pig squeal.” He spat near the cop.

Risotto sat Abbacchio on the chair and spoke to him. “I think I remember seeing you at the bar. I occasionally drink, but you seem like the alcoholic type. Are you an alcoholic? I hate alcoholics. Prosciutto, see if you can find some alcohol.”

Prosciutto checked the wine rack and pulled out a bottle. “This cheap crap? He gave this to me after I tortured and killed someone here. He started fucking me on that chair. Bruno, you don’t know how lucky you are.”

“You call this lucky?”

“All you had to do was let the boss do whatever he wanted with you.” He handed Risotto the wine.

The assassin uncorked the wine. “Drinks up.” And he splashed onto Abbacchio, who let out a wince.

Diavolo returned with some ice and some needles.

“Oh fuck,” Bruno commented. He tried to stand but was too weak, so he continued kneeling. “No, don’t!”

The pink-haired man walked over to the tortured cop and injected him with heroin. Abbacchio immediately vomited. Bruno tried to close his eyes and look away, but Diavolo stopped and walked over to him, made him look at his boyfriend, and forced his eyes open. “This is your fault.” And then he injected Bruno with heroin, making him feel a rush once it pierced his skin before vomiting.

Bruno couldn’t tell what happened next. His vision blurred, but Risotto hit Abbacchio with something long—a pipe, maybe—in the knee. His screams were loud, and Bruno’s body slowly wobbled from side to side, barely able to keep his eyes open. Diavolo hit him to keep him awake.

Risotto kept hitting Bruno’s boyfriend with multiple metallic things, but he stopped once Abbacchio fell to the floor. Bruno could barely hear them talk, and then Diavolo knelt.

“It’s done. Let’s get you out of here. You smell bad. I’ll ready a bath for you.” He kissed his cheeks and carried him.

“I hate you.”

“I love you too.”