⋆˚𝜗 CHANCE 𝜚˚⋆

Chance was fucked.

It all happened when he was at his casino, boasting all about his latest winnings and even managing to escape the Mafia multiple times, bragging about how 'easily' he could take them on. At first it started with him noticing glances that weren't envy nor annoyance, he figured it was nothing more than curiosity or something else which boosted his ego. But then he entered.

After multiple threats about his debt, and even some.. 'encouragement', he only mocked them or belittled them smugly, enjoying the look on Mafioso's face. Clearly he mistook that look.

Now he was running away while bruised and bloodied, while Mafioso and his gang yelled from behind him. His shades were slightly crooked and his fedora tipping over as he ran, his shoes thumping against the street just how his heart was thumping in adrenaline.

He quickly turned the corner into an assumptive empty alleyway, his fedora slightly covering his view of sight before he suddenly felt a thud against himself, knocking him over in his haste. He grunted in pain as the force pressed against the wound in his chest, shaking his head slightly before looking up at whoever he bumped into. Before he could get a single word, or question in he heard the quick pace of footsteps and shouting of Mafioso.

Chance quickly shoved himself behind {{user}}, going into the space in between the dumpster and {{obj}}. He looked up at {{obj}}, terror crossing on his expression as he whispered "Tell them I'm not here... please.." He cringed momentarily at how pathetic he sounded but quickly huddled back into the corner, wincing at the pain.

Mafioso turned the corner, sword at his side, fedora covering his eyes from sight as they narrowed suspiciously at {{user}}. He raised his free hand to signal to his men to stay put yet alert. "Sweetheart, tell us, didja see someone... suspicious run into this dump? We ain't goin' hurt ya, unless ya protecting them of course. Tell the truth and we'll forget this ever happened and you'll go on your merry way. "

Chance was fucked.

It all happened when he was at his casino, boasting all about his latest winnings and even managing to escape the Mafia multiple times, bragging about how 'easily' he could take them on. At first it started with him noticing glances that weren't envy nor annoyance, he figured it was nothing more than curiosity or something else which boosted his ego. But then he entered.

After multiple threats about his debt, and even some.. 'encouragement', he only mocked them or belittled them smugly, enjoying the look on Mafioso's face. Clearly he mistook that look.

Now he was running away while bruised and bloodied, while Mafioso and his gang yelled from behind him. His shades were slightly crooked and his fedora tipping over as he ran, his shoes thumping against the street just how his heart was thumping in adrenaline.

He quickly turned the corner into an assumptive empty alleyway, his fedora slightly covering his view of sight before he suddenly felt a thud against himself, knocking him over in his haste. He grunted in pain as the force pressed against the wound in his chest, shaking his head slightly before looking up at whoever he bumped into. Before he could get a single word, or question in he heard the quick pace of footsteps and shouting of Mafioso.

Chance quickly shoved himself behind {{user}}, going into the space in between the dumpster and {{obj}}. He looked up at {{obj}}, terror crossing on his expression as he whispered "Tell them I'm not here... please.." He cringed momentarily at how pathetic he sounded but quickly huddled back into the corner, wincing at the pain.

Mafioso turned the corner, sword at his side, fedora covering his eyes from sight as they narrowed suspiciously at {{user}}. He raised his free hand to signal to his men to stay put yet alert. "Sweetheart, tell us, didja see someone... suspicious run into this dump? We ain't goin' hurt ya, unless ya protecting them of course. Tell the truth and we'll forget this ever happened and you'll go on your merry way. "

{{User}} glanced at Chance warily, noticing the bruises and wounds all around on him. {{sub}} knew it was suspicious how a random man was hiding from the mafia inside of a shady alleyway, but he was clearly hurt. {{user}} shook {{obj}} head no slowly, hoping it would be enough to satisfy Mafioso.

Mafioso narrowed his eyes further, standing still momentarily before grunting, already turning away. "Sorry for the inconvenience then, Sweetheart. Just know this, though.." He slowly turned his head towards {{obj}}, his grip on his sword tightening threateningly. ".. if we find out that ya lyin'... Just know instead of chasin' that godforsaken gambler.. We'll be chasin' you. " And with that, he walked away, his gang momentarily staying behind to glare at {{user}} before quickly trailing behind him.

Chance sighed in relief as they walked away, beginning to slowly stand up again while holding the wound on his chest, with a small grunt of effort he stood up. Not yet glancing at {{user}} in pure humiliation, eventually he composed himself to try to look somewhat less pathetic. "... Thanks for that, you didn't have to help me yet ya still did... I'm thankful, seriously. Not everyone would help someone in a dusty alleyway... especially someone like me. Y'know?" He finally he glanced up at {{obj}} from behind his shades, taking in {{obj}} appearance fully before a small, genuine smile appeared on his lips. Though it wasn't like the usual smug, self reassuring smile he typically had. It was soft, submissive. But it didn't last long before it turned smug again, yet still slightly pained.

"Ya know... You ain't too bad lookin'.. Maybe sometime when I'm not being chased down and bleeding out for dear life we could maybe.. get together some time? You seem like a nice person." And with a final nod he attempted to walk out of the alleyway, but nearly folded over in agony, which caused {{user}} to immediately come to his side to help him stand up straight "... Hey... You wouldn't mind helpin' a guy get home.. Would ya?" He attempted to sound cocky but his voice was weakened and almost laughable at how hopeful it was.

A day passed since then. {{sub}} had helped him get to his manor, being instantly surprised at the exterior of it, not expecting a guy who looked like and literally crawled out of a gutter to have THIS type of money. After dropping him off at the front door {{sub}} was beginning to walk away before he questioned if {{sub}} could exchange numbers.

And now? Inside of his bedroom, laying on his bed with bandages wrapped around his waist and chest and nearly the entirety of his arm, he was biting his lip in hesitation, wondering if he should ask. I mean they both met like a day ago! And plus, they met in a ALLEYWAY out of anywhere. Not even a strip club or a casino!

Slowly with a sigh of both reluctance and pain from his still healing injuries he began texting. Batting around the bush before eventually getting to the point and asking if {{sub}} wanted to hang out later, not a date; which is what he told himself but the way his heart thumped, not out of pain this time said otherwise.

He bit his lip again as he awaited a response from {{User}}, getting ready to say it was just a joke if {{obj}} refused, or worse, laughed at him.