Emilio & Oliver (2013)
Deep breathes Oliver, you can do this. He jolted as he heard the other male's voice on the other line, his accent made him blush and he shook it off before speaking in his heavily accented. "Sorry for the delay, I won't spare you an excuse since you've traveled so far." He looked out onto the London streets and continued speaking. "The man you seek tends to change destinations often, he's unpredictable, and for some reason, he wants to take hold of a small portion of your home area and expand his mates out there. He originally was going to send me to stay permanently, but clearly that turned into rubbish and sent me back here. His..." Oliver fumbled with what to say at that point before recovering quickly. Hearing the grating slicing of bone in the background, almost wanting to reach over and deck Emilio because he was on the phone. This phone call was important, regardless of what Sol's motives were.
"I suppose I can say his main objective is to monopolize as much space as possible and try to be a mafia head. Gangs isn't enough for him, he wants to be recognized in an organize crime standpoint. This is why," Oliver glanced behind him at the cadaver, knowing full well Sol cannot see his current location. "we have to act fast. His tyranny isn't going to stop at any means necessary. I may be his second-in-command, but I know when a war is coming and when a bloke's power goes straight to his head, ye?" Frustrated, he scratched the back of his blonde hair and got to the grimmer details.
"I don't think he knows who you are, or knows that you're even in this country. But if I were you, I suggest you lay low and corner strike him when he's alone. Even that's a handful in itself, but I have faith in you. I've heard some things about you from when I was looking for help in Korea." He said airily, feeling as though his feminine voice was slowly coming through, but cleared his throat to keep it in check.
"His name is Armani, but his mates call him Tyrann, fitting isn'tit? He's usually seen in the western and southern parts of London. If you need help maneuvering around, call or text me and I can provide some reasonable directions. Do you have any questions?" The genderfluid human being asked patiently, trying his best not to irritate Sol any further, believing he was providing him with all the information he had within his grasp.
"I have a question. . . ." A sensual drawl could be heard behind Oliver, causing him to tense up giving how strongly the smell of antiseptics and blood was drawing near. A hand caressing the back of his neck before trailing down his spine, a hot breath that smelled of cinnamon pressed to his ear.
"E 'il tuo fidanzato? Sto diventando gelosa di qui." The husky voice smirked causing Oliver to squeak but quickly covered his mouth, punching Emilio in the shoulder as he chuckled to himself. Hoping to himself that the man on the other line didn't hear Emilio's Italian rubbish.
&&&&&&
"You fucking bent arse!" Oliver heard Sol hang up on the other side before he punched Emilio again, who burst out into a rich laugh, hearty enough for all of London to hear. "I was handling business 'n you go on 'n make it sound like I was in the middle of getting snogged. The bloke thought you were my boyfriend for fuck sakes!" He was flustered, the freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment. This only served to cause Emilio to laugh harder, gripping his stomach in an attempt to not keel over from such a statement.
"I already feel sorry for the poor bastard, whoever he is." The half-Italian Korean male gasped between words as he fell back onto the sofa, calming his humor.
"I sincerely hope that if at some point, you meet this lad, I suggest to keep all your comments to yourself." He grunted and stalked off into the bathroom, to possibly, as Emilio called it, "transform" himself and return home.
"How can I not? But I will continue to refer you in male pronouns in front of him. . . Unless, well, since he's from Korea, you're going to have to explain to him what your identity is if somehow, he catches you without your bindings. They don't have that there ya know." He got up, but before he went back to the body, he then looked in the direction of the bathroom.
"Actually, before you free your seni segreti, we need to get rid of this body. I do have a paper to be finishing and nursing a disconnected body is preventing me, y'know."
"You're lucky I only decided to change my trousers and put on my jumper. Let's go, sie verdammtes arschloch."
Emilio was tired, university was draining him, so was the aspect of this whole annoying gang problem in London. He thought it would kill him, but as far as he was concerned, he was behind the scenes. The farther away he was from the ringleader, the better his chances were that he wouldn't have to change his name in case of murder. Opening his pale blue eyes, he rummaged around on the side of his bed for his cell phone. Swiping the screen a few times before he reached his contact list, he was supposed to be meeting Oliver while he was not Oliver, but with his real boyfriend in public earlier today. He didn't like the kid, but that could also be because he was a little protect of the petite individual.
Scrolling down the contacts, he saw one that was incredibly familiar and smirked. He clicked on cucciolo preferito, which was his nickname for Sol, a man he hasn't seen since he graduated Kwon High and left Korea for his studies in the medical field. The guy had a knack, or well, lack thereof of keeping contact with him. He figured just to spite him, he'd text him.
"Long time no see, my lungo perduto amante~ how are things?""You fucking bent arse!" Oliver heard Sol hang up on the other side before he punched Emilio again, who burst out into a rich laugh, hearty enough for all of London to hear. "I was handling business 'n you go on 'n make it sound like I was in the middle of getting snogged. The bloke thought you were my boyfriend for fuck sakes!" He was flustered, the freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment. This only served to cause Emilio to laugh harder, gripping his stomach in an attempt to not keel over from such a statement.
"I already feel sorry for the poor bastard, whoever he is." The half-Italian Korean male gasped between words as he fell back onto the sofa, calming his humor.
"I sincerely hope that if at some point, you meet this lad, I suggest to keep all your comments to yourself." He grunted and stalked off into the bathroom, to possibly, as Emilio called it, "transform" himself and return home.
"How can I not? But I will continue to refer you in male pronouns in front of him. . . Unless, well, since he's from Korea, you're going to have to explain to him what your identity is if somehow, he catches you without your bindings. They don't have that there ya know." He got up, but before he went back to the body, he then looked in the direction of the bathroom.
"Actually, before you free your seni segreti, we need to get rid of this body. I do have a paper to be finishing and nursing a disconnected body is preventing me, y'know."
"You're lucky I only decided to change my trousers and put on my jumper. Let's go, sie verdammtes arschloch."
Emilio was tired, university was draining him, so was the aspect of this whole annoying gang problem in London. He thought it would kill him, but as far as he was concerned, he was behind the scenes. The farther away he was from the ringleader, the better his chances were that he wouldn't have to change his name in case of murder. Opening his pale blue eyes, he rummaged around on the side of his bed for his cell phone. Swiping the screen a few times before he reached his contact list, he was supposed to be meeting Oliver while he was not Oliver, but with his real boyfriend in public earlier today. He didn't like the kid, but that could also be because he was a little protect of the petite individual.
Scrolling down the contacts, he saw one that was incredibly familiar and smirked. He clicked on cucciolo preferito, which was his nickname for Sol, a man he hasn't seen since he graduated Kwon High and left Korea for his studies in the medical field. The guy had a knack, or well, lack thereof of keeping contact with him. He figured just to spite him, he'd text him.
"Long time no see, my lungo perduto amante~ how are things?"
"I suppose I can say his main objective is to monopolize as much space as possible and try to be a mafia head. Gangs isn't enough for him, he wants to be recognized in an organize crime standpoint. This is why," Oliver glanced behind him at the cadaver, knowing full well Sol cannot see his current location. "we have to act fast. His tyranny isn't going to stop at any means necessary. I may be his second-in-command, but I know when a war is coming and when a bloke's power goes straight to his head, ye?" Frustrated, he scratched the back of his blonde hair and got to the grimmer details.
"I don't think he knows who you are, or knows that you're even in this country. But if I were you, I suggest you lay low and corner strike him when he's alone. Even that's a handful in itself, but I have faith in you. I've heard some things about you from when I was looking for help in Korea." He said airily, feeling as though his feminine voice was slowly coming through, but cleared his throat to keep it in check.
"His name is Armani, but his mates call him Tyrann, fitting isn'tit? He's usually seen in the western and southern parts of London. If you need help maneuvering around, call or text me and I can provide some reasonable directions. Do you have any questions?" The genderfluid human being asked patiently, trying his best not to irritate Sol any further, believing he was providing him with all the information he had within his grasp.
"I have a question. . . ." A sensual drawl could be heard behind Oliver, causing him to tense up giving how strongly the smell of antiseptics and blood was drawing near. A hand caressing the back of his neck before trailing down his spine, a hot breath that smelled of cinnamon pressed to his ear.
"E 'il tuo fidanzato? Sto diventando gelosa di qui." The husky voice smirked causing Oliver to squeak but quickly covered his mouth, punching Emilio in the shoulder as he chuckled to himself. Hoping to himself that the man on the other line didn't hear Emilio's Italian rubbish.
&&&&&&
"You fucking bent arse!" Oliver heard Sol hang up on the other side before he punched Emilio again, who burst out into a rich laugh, hearty enough for all of London to hear. "I was handling business 'n you go on 'n make it sound like I was in the middle of getting snogged. The bloke thought you were my boyfriend for fuck sakes!" He was flustered, the freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment. This only served to cause Emilio to laugh harder, gripping his stomach in an attempt to not keel over from such a statement.
"I already feel sorry for the poor bastard, whoever he is." The half-Italian Korean male gasped between words as he fell back onto the sofa, calming his humor.
"I sincerely hope that if at some point, you meet this lad, I suggest to keep all your comments to yourself." He grunted and stalked off into the bathroom, to possibly, as Emilio called it, "transform" himself and return home.
"How can I not? But I will continue to refer you in male pronouns in front of him. . . Unless, well, since he's from Korea, you're going to have to explain to him what your identity is if somehow, he catches you without your bindings. They don't have that there ya know." He got up, but before he went back to the body, he then looked in the direction of the bathroom.
"Actually, before you free your seni segreti, we need to get rid of this body. I do have a paper to be finishing and nursing a disconnected body is preventing me, y'know."
"You're lucky I only decided to change my trousers and put on my jumper. Let's go, sie verdammtes arschloch."
Emilio was tired, university was draining him, so was the aspect of this whole annoying gang problem in London. He thought it would kill him, but as far as he was concerned, he was behind the scenes. The farther away he was from the ringleader, the better his chances were that he wouldn't have to change his name in case of murder. Opening his pale blue eyes, he rummaged around on the side of his bed for his cell phone. Swiping the screen a few times before he reached his contact list, he was supposed to be meeting Oliver while he was not Oliver, but with his real boyfriend in public earlier today. He didn't like the kid, but that could also be because he was a little protect of the petite individual.
Scrolling down the contacts, he saw one that was incredibly familiar and smirked. He clicked on cucciolo preferito, which was his nickname for Sol, a man he hasn't seen since he graduated Kwon High and left Korea for his studies in the medical field. The guy had a knack, or well, lack thereof of keeping contact with him. He figured just to spite him, he'd text him.
"Long time no see, my lungo perduto amante~ how are things?""You fucking bent arse!" Oliver heard Sol hang up on the other side before he punched Emilio again, who burst out into a rich laugh, hearty enough for all of London to hear. "I was handling business 'n you go on 'n make it sound like I was in the middle of getting snogged. The bloke thought you were my boyfriend for fuck sakes!" He was flustered, the freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment. This only served to cause Emilio to laugh harder, gripping his stomach in an attempt to not keel over from such a statement.
"I already feel sorry for the poor bastard, whoever he is." The half-Italian Korean male gasped between words as he fell back onto the sofa, calming his humor.
"I sincerely hope that if at some point, you meet this lad, I suggest to keep all your comments to yourself." He grunted and stalked off into the bathroom, to possibly, as Emilio called it, "transform" himself and return home.
"How can I not? But I will continue to refer you in male pronouns in front of him. . . Unless, well, since he's from Korea, you're going to have to explain to him what your identity is if somehow, he catches you without your bindings. They don't have that there ya know." He got up, but before he went back to the body, he then looked in the direction of the bathroom.
"Actually, before you free your seni segreti, we need to get rid of this body. I do have a paper to be finishing and nursing a disconnected body is preventing me, y'know."
"You're lucky I only decided to change my trousers and put on my jumper. Let's go, sie verdammtes arschloch."
Emilio was tired, university was draining him, so was the aspect of this whole annoying gang problem in London. He thought it would kill him, but as far as he was concerned, he was behind the scenes. The farther away he was from the ringleader, the better his chances were that he wouldn't have to change his name in case of murder. Opening his pale blue eyes, he rummaged around on the side of his bed for his cell phone. Swiping the screen a few times before he reached his contact list, he was supposed to be meeting Oliver while he was not Oliver, but with his real boyfriend in public earlier today. He didn't like the kid, but that could also be because he was a little protect of the petite individual.
Scrolling down the contacts, he saw one that was incredibly familiar and smirked. He clicked on cucciolo preferito, which was his nickname for Sol, a man he hasn't seen since he graduated Kwon High and left Korea for his studies in the medical field. The guy had a knack, or well, lack thereof of keeping contact with him. He figured just to spite him, he'd text him.
"Long time no see, my lungo perduto amante~ how are things?"