Another Chance I Don't Want (boyxboy)

Damn You're Good

Picture of Sammy~!!!

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Training.

What pops into your head? Weights? Running? Giant tires? Non-stop practice? Diets?

Well that fucking adorable because training in my family is HELL. You have to run and sweat just like in regular training except in my training you have a gun and a wicked hunting knife. You have to run and camp for two days in some type of hunger games shit and if you get shot or stabbed, we were trained not to make it too fatal on our own family, you are sent home where they “teach” you how to be better.

I looked around at the boys and then at the Catalino boys who were joining us for the first time ever in our little patch of hell. They had no idea what we were about to go through but they did get the basics. Kill or be killed was our motto pretty much.

My eyes met Vincent’s and he grinned before walking over to me. “Who are you picking for your teammate?” he asked with that same, glowing smile. It was amazing that he could smile after all of the shit that happened last month. His brother dying, him finding out he’s gay, his ma almost being killed, and then almost being killed by our ex-best friend because his pops had molested Tommy.

“Yo,” he said.

“I don’t know,” I answered but my eyes betrayed me and looked over at Angel. He was wearing black wife beater with grey basketball shorts and converse. We were all wearing something similar with a small bag with necessities in it.

“Are you and him….?” He trailed off with his cheeks turning pink. It wasn’t out of jealously though more out of embarrassment that he asked. I sighed, wishing and hoping that one day it would be jealousy but that would require Giovanni to die and I would never put Vin through such pain.

“No-“I cut myself off because of the small nagging, bitch voice that yelled bloody murder about the bet. “It’s complicated,” I decided and then turned around only to crash into Angel’s chest. I could tell it was his because of all the rippling muscles that flexed under my face.

“Hey, Sammy,” Angel said as I pulled away from him. “I was wondering if you wanted to be my teammate.”

“No,” was my automatic answer.

“Come on,” he whined and that got the attention of his boys, including Gio who was staring at us like we had both grown extra heads. It was no secret that Angel and I hate each other. Ever since day one in the cafeteria when he tackled me to the floor. I still remember his big grin and the way he stared down at me before saying;

“You sure do seem to like me on top of you. Maybe even a little rough?”

That day sealed my hatred for him and then so many other times that will pop on later as flashbacks. I focused back on Angel and then blushed furiously when I found him on his hands and knees in front of me with his hands clasped as his plump, bottom lip out.

“Please, Sammy! Please,” he begged. I looked at everyone completely shocked that he was degrading himself so much for me. Italians don’t beg. It’s not our forte. Especially us mafia men. That shit just doesn’t fly well.

I met my pops’ eyes and he winked with a grin. Traitor.

“Fine, Angel. Just stop getting your dirty filth all over me,” I snapped but couldn’t help the butterflies that took flight in my stomach. God, why did he make me feel so (pause) damn (pause) good?

“Everyone have a partner?” Emilio asked as he stood beside my pops.

“Vincent?” he called.