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Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir trouble trouble trouble
.Babysitting the Mafia’s Heir.Chapter 13: trouble trouble trouble .Jesse sighs through his nose, directing his attention back to his two friends who are now back on their feet and on the makeshift dance floor off to the side. He's tempted to leave them, go home and sleep this off. But he'd be thinking about them all night. He trusts Wallace, trusts Joaquin, but he doesn't know the rest of these guys.Fuck.He drops down to sit on one of the square couches, resigning himself to the fact that he's not going anyway anytime soon. Jesse casts a look over his shoulder to meet eyes with Ivanov, who's wearing that stupid expression again, and he really just wants to punch him. Right in the dick.The whiplash this night was giving him.He closes his eyes when the beat of the music starts to annoy him rather than appease him, slinking down in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. He doesn't know how long he sits there like that for, when he feels the spot next to him dip with we
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir do I really give a damn?
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir.Chapter 14: do I really give a damn? . With another sigh, he closes and locks the door, leaning his back against it as he turns and faces Ian, fast asleep on his couch. He's got classes tomorrow, ones he can't afford to skip out on, so he'll just have to take Ian with him. He feels a little lost. He hasn't got many kid suited snacks in his refrigerator. He makes a note to himself to get some stuff tomorrow while they're out.Jesse heads over to the couch, being gentle as he carefully picks Ian up and carries him to his bed, helping him out of the jacket he's got on, pulling off his shoes and carefully tucking him under the covers. He makes sure to dim his bedside lamp to the lowest setting, just enough to substitute as a nightlight, and he's just about to turn and leave when there's a soft voice."Jesse," Ian croaks, voice thick and small with sleep.Jesse’s careful as he lowers himself down to sit on the edge of his bed, reaching to smooth down the ki
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir there is a concrete line
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir.Chapter 15: there is a concrete line . Over the next few days, Jesse continues to take Ian to his classes and out to lunch and buys him snacks and ice cream and pens and pencils. He always sighs a breath of relief when he gets a text from Wallace telling him he's okay, and he can never fucking bring himself to ask how Ivanov is, never wants to admit to the fact that he's curious about how the older man is. Surely he's okay if Wallace hasn't said anything about it, he reasons with himself. Yeah, that's gotta be it. Ivanov is fine. Despite himself, he's still checking at his phone, finds himself picking at his nails in an anxious habit. Time seems to slow down once Iandor’s gone to bed, no longer having his laughter and curious questions about what he's drawing there to distract him. Being on his own, with his own thoughts and time on his hands-- it's grating on his nerves. A couple of nights later, there's a knock at the door, a slow thump of knuckl
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir Are you jealous
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir.Chapter 16: are you jealous .from: concrete lineHey, are you free this weekend?I need you to look after Iandor on Saturday.to: concrete lineyeh im freeu gonna pay me ?from: concrete lineOf course.to: concrete linethen im infrom: concrete lineThank you.Concrete motherfucking line. -- -- --Iandor falls asleep on him pretty early, having gone out earlier in the day for a friend's birthday party. Jesse spent all of dinner listening to the kid talk about what happened, what he and his friends did, what the birthday girl got, what he got her. Jesse pokes fun at him at the possibility of him liking her, and Iandor just sticks his tongue out at him. It's cute. Things are so much simpler when you're young, when everyone else looks out for you, when you have no responsibilities, when liking other boys and girls was no big deal. There was no wor
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir truce maybe?
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir.Chapter 17: truce maybe? .Jesse licks his kiss swollen lips as risks a glance above, and-- fuck him. Seriously, fuck this guy so much.Fuck him because there's Ivanov - standing up on one of the metal walkways, amongst other people - pressing some guy back against the railing as he kisses him. To say it annoys him even more to see Ivanov kissing another guy would be... absolutely truthful. He's some young thing with dark blue hair and long legs, and Jesse has a sour taste in his mouth, which he chases away on Saint’s tongue the moment Ivanov’s open and settle on him. Jesse holds his gaze for an agonisingly long time before he forces himself to focus back on the pretty mouth against his own.He hums appreciatively into Saint’s mouth when his hand climbs up the back of his shirt, and Jesse decides to up the ante, slipping his thigh between the other man's and wrapping a loose arm around his shoulders, pulling back for a breather. He stares down between
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir books, Jesse. Books.
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir.Chapter 18: books, Jesse. Books. ."I--""I'm glad you're okay too," Jesse continues before he can lose his nerve. But then, "You are okay, yeah?"Ivanov continues to stare at him, blinking before he gives a little nod. "Just. I have a bad feeling about it all. The deal that went down, it was a tight lip thing, only a few people knew about it. It could have all been a coincidence, the attack, but. I don't know. My gut tells me something isn't right."Jesse licks his lips, not sure what he's really meant to do. He's getting more of an insight than he usually lets himself hear. But he doesn't try and stop him. He's become so used to snapping at Ivanov, doing this back and forth with him that seeing him looking a little vulnerable throws him off. "I'm sorry," is all he can think to say, but he really finds that he means it.The man nods, inhaling deeply and finishes off the last of his drink. "It happens. Can't ever trust anyone completely in this field,"
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir Everything’s gonna be alright
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir.Chapter 19: everything’s gonna be alright .Jesse gets his first real taste of what it's like to be wrapped up in Wallace’s world one day while he's waiting to pick Ian up from school.He's standing with the parents, waiting outside for the last bell of the day when he gets that tingly feeling of being watched. The warm sensation of eyes on the back of his head. He turns his head to try and meet eyes with someone, and he finds it in the group of three men. They're parked across the street in a black Jeep, one with his window rolled down, one leaning against the same door and one on his phone standing at the back of the car. They look away when Jesse meets eyes with them, the two at the front seemingly dropping into a casual looking conversation. It could be nothing, something entirely innocent, but Jesse’s gut tells him it's not, and he's always followed his gut. When he turns away, it's not long until he feels eyes on him again, and he tries not to
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir affirmative
Babysitting The Mafia’s Heir.Chapter 20: affirmative . "You really care about him, don't you?"He takes a breath and concedes to what he's been trying to fight since the first time he stepped into this house. It's too late to turn back now. "I care about all of you." Jesse can see that his answer takes Ivanov off guard, the surprise there for a half a second before it's masked back into something cool. But Jesse saw it, and he wonders if he's really been that much of an asshole that it wasn't obvious until this point. He swallows the thick, not unpleasant lump that's appeared in his throat as Ivanov steps forward, Jesse’s eyes falling to his lips for a second before darting back up. His blood is rushing behind his ears, his heartbeat almost deafening. But Ivanov’s voice breaks through it as their chests brush together."Even me?" He asks as he reaches up with a gentle hand and skims the pad of his thumb along Jesse’s cheek. Jesse’s hands have somehow managed to make their own w
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