Not like the vampire.

The Only Living Boy In New York

Ben let the conversation drop to silence after that, because small talk was his least favorite activity. The elevator stopped on the garage floor and they stepped out, Ben’s creeping claustrophobia slipping back as he walked out into the open space.

There weren’t really any cheap cars in the garage on a given day, so naturally Ben’s eyes went to picking out the one that would undoubtedly be his new guardian’s, and was wholly surprised when Vitto stepped up to a sleek set of wheels in stark contrast of his expectations. He whistled his appreciation, though Mustang’s were definitely his favorite, this one was just as gorgeous. “Nice.” He commented, slipping into the passenger seat instead of the back seat and buckling himself in.

As Vitto sat, one of Ben’s hands held his mug while the other flippantly scrolled through the stations on the radio. “I have a two hour window for lunch, so calling ahead is optional. Make reservations at Hot Clay Oven on third avenue. It’s like a five minute drive from campus. And yes,” he added, glancing over at him with snark lacing his tone. “It’s my treat.”

#rp: the only living boy in new york #poor baby is having a rough start

The compliment came as a mild surprise, and Vitto took it for what it was, with a small smile and silence. As he clicked in his seat belt, the stations began to cycle and his smile turned tight-lipped. Luckily, Ben’s chosen station wasn’t something totally intolerable.

“Hot Clay Oven at noon, alright. And it’s appreciated, but I can pay for my own food, thanks. I’m hard-up at the moment, not poverty-stricken.”

He wouldn’t mention the fact that he’d been scrounging for change in his brother’s discarded pants that morning so he could afford breakfast. His bank account wasn’t exactly at $0 but he was definitely scraping the bottom of the barrel these days. Andrew would be paying him soon, but until then, his luxurious taste in meals and hair products was suffering, not to mention his bottle of Armani was almost completely drained. He’d walk into traffic before having to use that cheap, spicy trash his big brother used as cologne.

Sunglasses firmly in place and the music too loud for idle chatter, Vitto sped out of the garage and onto the street to begin his first day of his new job. Only to arrive ten minutes late because of traffic and his unfamiliarity with the roads.

He waited until Ben was out of the car before punching the steering wheel out of sheer frustration.

gaspardian

#the boss #andrew

danaisokoye-archive

lito experiencing period symptoms

#Lito

The Only Living Boy In New York

“Beggers can’t be choosers, so I’m told.” Ben responded listlessly as they waited for the elevator, stepping inside once the doors opened. “He an older brother or a younger brother?”

He leaned back against the elevator wall, hand rail pressing into the small of his back, and regarded the man while he listed off instructions like Ben wasn’t at all aware of how things were going to work between them.

“I know the drill,” he said, flashing a smirk at him in the reflective surface of the elevator doors. “Just get me to school and you’re off the hook until I call you to pick me up. Which will be at twelve when my lunch period coincides with my free period. I hope you like Indian food.”

“Older. And he never lets me forget it.”

Vitto did not acknowledge the smirk, though he most certainly saw it. It was too early in the morning to deal with the anyone’s snark, much less the kid’s.

When the elevator came to a halt, Vitto pulled his keys from his pocket and walked out into the parking garage. A black Jaguar sat in a spot nearby, the doors audibly unlocking as he approached. “I’m sure I’ll find something to eat on the menu. How long is your lunch then? I can order ahead if you don’t have time to wait around.”

Ben might have known the drill, but Vittorio didn’t, not yet. He’d never done security for someone in high school, so the schedule was going to take some getting used to.

The Only Living Boy In New York

When Ben woke up on Monday morning, he found a stack of clothing waiting for him on his bed. His clock proclaimed it to be five-thirty, the sky outside his window was inky black and dotted with lights from taller buildings in the distance. Ben groggily picked through the neat layers of clothing - chinos, a houndstooth patterned dress shirt, a dark navy blue tie, a note on top in Andrew’s spidery handwriting that said “I’m not going to get you out of detention again for breaking a simple dress code.”

Ben rolled his eyes and stretched for a few minutes, lazing in bed until the weight of the trousers on his legs got to be too much, and then slid from bed to immediately toss the offensive clothing into the back of his closet, pulling instead his usual faded blue jeans. Designer, and capable of complimenting his ass, unlike unflattering chinos. He honestly couldn’t believe his dad had actually touched those things. It was technically a sin to have them in the house. Dress code be damned, Ben wasn’t ever going to wear them.

He had an hour before his new ride was supposed to pick him up. Ben was used to walking considering driving in the city was a death trap at the best of times with all the cabs in this district, but he was curious to see how his guard was going to handle his first day.

After a long shower, and his thirty minute skin and hair regimen, Ben was dressed in his new shirt and tie and waiting, foregoing food in favor of a second cup of black coffee from the machine on the counter. The kitchen stereo played his favorite indie rock station, and the sun was starting to make it’s climb into the sky, casting a steely gray light over everything.

Ben answered the knock at the front door with a bright and cheerful and obnoxious “You look like shit” at the man standing outside. He grabbed his shoulder bag, his phone and mug, and popped out into the hallway, locking the door behind him and turning to lead Vitto to the elevators. He cast a side eye at him as they walked, taking his appearance in and the tense line of his jaw, the sunglasses he was wearing indoors at the asscrack of dawn. “You’ll get used to the mornings.” He smirked as he took a sip of his coffee.

Trudging along behind Benjamin, all Vittorio could really concentrate on were the expensive jeans the boy wore. No way in Hell were those school sanctioned.

“It’ll help when I’m not sleeping on my brother’s couch,” Vitto said without really thinking. He scratched the stubble under his chin and stared at the wall in front of them. “So while you’re in school, I’ll be on stand-by. If you need me, text or email me, I’ll see it on my phone. Do you eat lunch at school? Or do you leave campus?”

He’s slept in cars too many times to count, and already he was fantasizing about the power nap he’d be able to take once Ben’s classes started. Not like he had anything else to do.

The Only Living Boy In New York

The visit from his newest warden was pushed to the back of his mind in favor of more important things for him to think about, namely, himself. As amused as he was, he doubted the guy was going to last very long in the position. His previous guardian had lasted all but two months before hightailing it to safety, and Ben had thought things were actually going pretty well between them.

When his dad came home late that night, technically early the next day, Ben made a point of asking about the security guard, and just what kind of bleeding heart sympathy bullshit he was pulling hiring him. Andrew merely pursed his lips down at him while loosening the knot of his tie, and instructed him in the most serious of voices Ben had yet heard to behave or else he was going to be shipped to boarding school. To which Ben groaned and let his head flop back on the couch to watch upside down as his dad strut upstairs to the balcony -slash- his bedroom. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a soft spot for Italians now,” he grumped.

The thing was, Vitto didn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit, the kind who would get what he wanted regardless of whether or not Ben willingly gave it by sheer unflinching strength of will alone.

It’d be fun to see that will broken, was all Ben could think.

He was reminded of Vitto’s existence only when he used his debit card, because he kept the man’s very pretentious looking card there, tucked in the pocket where he kept his fake I.D and a business card for his favorite Pho restaurant. But other than that, he went on with his weekend, Vitto being neither a threat looming closer nor a curiosity to wonder about, just something that was coming.

He’d also forgotten that he was supposed to send Vitto his information until late Sunday morning. Which wasn’t his fault - it was the weekend. A boy could only handle so much homework. As it was, he only rolled over to fish his phone out from under his pillow and listlessly typed out a list of his schedule [ 7-2 school. 2-3:30 extra class. 4-4:30 slc. 4:30-12 whatever I want ] before sending it off and rolling over to fall back asleep.

For a hot moment, Vittorio had thought Benjamin might not even send his schedule out of either laziness or just to be rebellious, but when he came out of the gym on Sunday afternoon, he found Ben’s schedule waiting for him.

Freshly showered and already sweating like a pig under the San Franciscan sun, Vitto sighed at the brief, almost vague schedule with distaste. Having to be up at 6AM each morning was going to be a bitch and a half. But whining to his big brother about it had garnered no sympathy whatsoever.

“Boo-hoo, I’m getting paid ridiculous amounts of money to babysit some kid, let’s just complain about the hours,” Nicco mocked, half dropping Vitto’s share of lo mein in front of him. “You’re a shit, you know that? Just don’t wake me up. I’ll be going to bed when you get up.”

Vitto scowled, but accepted the reprimand. Tomorrow, he’d just have to bite the bullet and acquaint himself with the coffee machine.

Standing in front of Ben’s door at 6:28 in the morning, Vitto attempted not to fall straight over as he knocked. He’d managed to get his suit on facing the right way, but he’d used shaving cream instead of hair gel to slick back his hair and had burned his mouth on hot coffee with his first sip.

“Here to take you to school,” he grumbled when the door opened, and was glad for his sunglasses to hide the bags under his eyes. “You ready?”

The Only Living Boy In New York

Ben didn’t answer for a long moment, not because he was digesting what was being said or at all considering it, only because he was more focused on his game and getting the highest kill count in the next four minutes.

He ignored Vitto until his match ended, and gave a little victory whoop as he cleared the board for the umpteenth time, much to the chagrin of his party members as message alerts were popping up on his screen. “Suck my dick, bitches.” He snickered as he shut the system off and stood to stretch.

The floor length windows of his play room were facing partially to the west, which at this time of day allowed in bright sunlight and made him feel sleepy, which was only worse when he’d just spent over six hours in classes.

“Well. Consider yourself off the hook until Monday,” he yawned, and padded back into the kitchen for a soda this time. “And hey, this gesture,” he raised his hand and repeated the stabbing motion, his hand curled significantly differently this time. “Is not something I need to be protected from. You got any more questions or are we done here.“

The silence stretched awkwardly, but Vittorio was patient. Children always required patience. Vitto had worked with enough of them to know as much.

His eyebrows rose at the profanity, but the rest of his face remained impassive. Of course Ben wouldn’t want his babysitter hanging around until it was necessary.

You little shit, he thought bluntly, and took the sunglasses from inside his pocket to push them onto his face. “Suit yourself. I’ll give you my phone number and email address, and I’d appreciate it if you emailed me a general schedule for your classes and afternoon activities-- clubs, sports, events, whatever. Tonight, if possible. If I don’t have it by Sunday afternoon, I’ll be back to collect the information myself, so I’m going to have it either way.”

He didn’t mention that he’d been given a general schedule already. At home, he had a printed sheet with all of Benjamin’s classes and activities neatly typed out for him to study, but this again was a sort of test, to at least see if the kid would play ball. And, of course, whose rules Ben would be playing by if he so chose to participate.

From a small silver case inside another inner pocket, Vittorio pulled a card with his cell number and email address. He left it on the desk near the door with a playful “Ciao” and his finger raised like a pointed gun.

They didn’t have to like each other, but Vittorio would be damned if he was going to split before Hell itself froze over. This job was his last chance at staying in the game.

The Only Living Boy In New York

The response that leaves the guy’s mouth isn’t at all a surprise, but still Ben couldn’t help but chuckle at him. “That’s exactly what I’m asking you, politely anyway,” he retorts, turning his gaze back to the screen and shrugging carelessly. “Geez. I thought we were getting to know one another. Obviously who you fuck doesn’t affect your job performance, just like me being into dudes as much as I’m into chicks doesn’t affect my game performance.”He makes an internal note to himself to actually ask his dad the specifics of this guy’s information instead of listlessly deleting every piece of information his dad has ever said to him in the last three years since he’s been living with him. “Alright, since I get two questions then, when are you starting this babysitting adventure my dad’s swindled you into?”

If that had been Ben’s way of asking something politely, Vittorio was almost scared to hear the teen asking something impolitely. Not that anything Ben could come up with would hold a candle to some of the things Vitto’s had spat in his face. The fact that Ben seemed to be asking from a non-heterosexual point of view would surely guarantee that.

Vitto snorted. “Today is more like a meet-and-greet, and the next few days I’d like to visit as well, though I’m not officially being paid until Monday so you don’t have to see me until then if you don’t want to. Either way, we’ll be seeing quite a lot of each other from now on. Call it babysitting if you must, but I’m not here to act like a parent. I’m only here to keep you and your better interests safe. And preferably off the front page of tabloids, if I can help it.”

demelzahcarne

#the boss

The Only Living Boy In New York

“Always hiring because they’re always firing,” Ben says with a derisive chuckle before he takes another swig from his bottle. He can already tell the short time, and it’s going to be short, with this newest guardian was going to be pretty interesting.

“You say it’s not always breaking arms and car chases, so that means sometimes it is, and that’s what I wanna know. As fascinating as learning about red tape is, no offense but save it for another time.”

His match ends just as Vittorio (god, really?) starts talking about his qualifications, and Ben happily starts another one. Coming from the TV speaker is the booing and bitching of the other players he was facing against. He mutes it and turns to shoot a look at the security guard, eyeballing him because that’s a weird question to ask him, and shrugs as he looks back at the tv. “No, actually. I never try to make enemies out of anyone. But no one likes a kid who doesn’t do what he’s told. You’ll learn eventually what I’m talking about. Even if you say you won’t, you will. It’s natural, don’t fight it. My turn.”

He shoots another look at him, sizing him up. “Are you ‘Don’t Ask Don’t Tell’ military, or…” he trails off, leaving it wide open.