Either Kill Me or Love Me depending on what you're in the mood for <3
Matteo has always known that this place was cruel, above all else. In the weeks previous he had learned just how cruel. When he first arrived, he didn’t think much of it. This was just a place where people’s debts were paid. He didn’t agree with it, but growing up in a crime family, he understood. Did he wish his circumstances were different? Yes. But he got lucky. He got put here with Felix. But eventually what started off as just paying debts twisted into something else. The beatings were a daily occurrence. The brothers weren’t just trying to punish him for his father’s wrongdoings, they were trying to break him. And that was cruel enough, of course, but that twisted into something else even more unrecognizable when he was forced to kill his own mother.
So no, it wasn’t exactly surprising when he was tossed into the ring and told he needed to kill his opponent this time. He needed to do it. Not the ref afterwards, him. And this wasn’t even a scheduled fight. They’d just... dragged him out of bed.
Matteo was bleary eyed and tired, wearing a pair of pajama pants and bare feet. He wasn’t ready for a fight. His first assumption was that they were trying to take him out this time, that this was the ultimate way to rig his fights so he would lose.
But a moment later, his opponent was brought into the ring and he knew different.
No, this was Julian’s execution, not his.
“What the fuck,” Matteo mumbled under his breath, his heartbeat already picking up. He looked around the room as best he could, trying to see who all was there. The lights were shining so bright in his face he couldn’t make out much but a few silhouettes here and there.
From there, he looked to Julian who, to his credit, wasn’t giving them what they wanted. They wanted him to cry, to snivel, to whimper, to look afraid. And Matteo could tell that he was afraid, despite his appearance, because his eyes were stretched wide at the corners, his fingers shook just the slightest bit.
From somewhere behind him, the rules were made clear: There’s two possible outcomes for this. Matteo kills Julian or the guy with the gun kills them both.
Matteo levels Julian with a stare and they seem to understand each other. They always had. And while if the scenario were any different, if Matteo had not been forced to do something twice as unthinkable just a month ago, maybe this could have ended differently. But that part of himself that couldn’t make these sorts of decisions was long gone now.
But he still wasn’t cruel. If that’s what the brothers were trying to do, they were failing.
He walked towards Julian, who flinched, and he reached forward to take hold of the younger male’s face between two large, calloused hands. Julian spoke up. “Just do it. I wont fight. I stole something from someone I shouldn’t have, fucked up again. You shouldn’t have to pay for-”
“I’m gonna do it. I don’t have a choice. But if I did, I’d find another way,” he said. “Listen. I don’t have any way to do this that isn’t gonna be painful. I just need you to trust me. Understand that I hate this, and that I’m gonna find a way to fuck up their lives for this.”
It didn’t seem to do much good, but Matteo didn’t really expect it to. And he wasn’t sure if he was alarmed by how easy this was getting to be or not. But no matter how hard he tried to hide it, to push emotion down, he could feel it boiling in the bit of his stomach.
He moved to stand behind Julian and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. This was so... phenomenally fucked up.
He didn’t give the boy who was now shaking like a leaf in his arms to think about it much more. He didn’t pour sentimentality out around him, either. It wouldn’t be respectful. Matteo wasn’t the most important part of Julian’s life, just the last part of it. They’d had some good (really, really good) times in between. And he’d hold onto those for as long as he could, missing the thief more than he thought possible. But for now he’d give him the dignity of a silent death. And a quick one.
The sound of the snap was deafening.
"Okay, look," Matteo said as he rolled over in bed to face Julian. "I'm not saying that Severus Snape wasn't necessary to the plot, okay, he clearly was. I'm just saying that Snape is a very, very bad man. I don't get the whole cult following he's got, it kind of freaks me out. No means no, my greasy bro," he said, with a shrug of broad shoulders, baby blues connecting with Julians.
Julian seemed to war with himself for a moment. "Okay, but Alan Rickman, man. Alan Rickman. That's all I'm saying."
And that was the end of that. Matteo laughed a real laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners, shoulders shaking, while shaking his head. Fine, Alan Rickman. Whatever. He could conceed to that.
A moment later, Julian had stretched out his legs and Matteo rest his head on the thief's thigh, looking up at the slats of the bunk above the one they were in.
Who's dorm even was this? It wasn't either of theirs. And where the hell did Julian get popcorn? Matteo actually wasn't worried about it at all.
"Okay, I don't know how we got on the topic of Severus Snape. We were talking about my ass in comparison to Lupin’s. Mine is better."
Matteo couldn't argue with that.
