"I have no idea what you mean. I do nothing without consent of any party involved so I have no reason to worry about this kind of thing. No records to erase." He wasn't going to get rid of the best blackmail he had just because Falcone was pissy that it was one of his guys. Maybe he should be paying his guys better, then they wouldn't come here to fight for cash. And now he had footage of that in debt idiot brutally slaughtering a doctor of all things.
It was fucking gold. He loved it. He wasn't going to just give it up. "Besides, I don't keep tapes. Not my style. Kind of gauche, don't you think?"
With defiance in his eyes, he walked back over to his desk and leaned against it. "Sorry."
"You should be." Oh, Roman. Victor couldn't really say that he didn't want to hurt him. His protectiveness over the man wasn't like that. He quite enjoyed hurting him at times.
However, he'd much rather do it for fun than business. But that didn't stop him from following behind Roman, crossing the room and attacking him immediately. He ended up tossing him over his shoulder and onto the desk, grabbing a letter opener and ramming it through his suit jacket and into the desk to pin him down. He had a knife in his free hand, the other was by Roman's chest, tightening his tie gradually while he looked down on him.
"Business, Roman. Not play time. So don't play with me."
He was starting to get the appeal of a desk this size though.
"Ah! My suit!" Roman yelped as he looked at the letter opener that was pinned to his beautiful new suit - there would be a hole and this was not good, he'd never be able to wear it again. That sparked so much anger in him that he didn't even consider the seriousness of Victor coming at him, he fought under him and growled, barely resisting spitting in his face but he came damn close. "You fucking idiot, what the fuck did you do? Are you a fucking moron? Do you have any idea how much this cost?"
It was Italian! High quality, double breasted. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Seething from where he was pinned, he glared up at Victor, his anger obvious, more concerned for his clothes than his skin. His poor tie was being mangled as he found himself struggling to breathe. "I don't fucking have it!"
Victor's eye twitched. He was in professional mode right now and this wasn't how he'd let any small boss talk to him, not without immediate and decisive repercussion. Don Falcone wouldn't blame him if he executed him on the spot.
However, this was Roman. He didn't want him dead and he knew him. Still ruled by base emotions more than his brain, he doubted he'd ever get over that. It was a miracle he'd even survived this long. Victor would have killed him if it had been anyone but him, but here he was. Professional wouldn't do.
He moved his hand to run his fingers through Roman's hair, a gentle touch, and he lowered his voice. "Breathe, Roman."
A part of him had to come through eventually. One that recognised what a mistake he'd made.
"Get off me! Fuck off, you stupid fucking -- get off!" Roman screamed at Victor as he flailed and struggled his brain not even getting a say on anything he did. It was all impulse, all instinct and no sense. It wasn't until Victor started to calm him that the tantrum slowly down and all he was doing was half-heartedly struggling under him.
It was hard to get back to breathing normally, his eyes were seeing white for a few moments before he could get himself together enough to look at Victor, to refocus and realise what situation he was in.
And he hated it.
Fuck. What did he even do now? He inhaled and exhaled, looking at Victor with wild eyes, not sure if he was about to be executed or not. Why the fuck did Victor Zsasz have to be this guy? Why did he have to be Falcones?
"This is why I asked the Don to send me." Victor said it drily, although he was aware that he was really admitting to quite a bit here. Knowing that Roman would handle this badly, of course. But also that he wanted to keep him safe, still, which included keeping him safe from himself. He was making it clear that he cared.
"Will you give me what I've come for?" He could hurt him, of course, he would get the job done any which way. But he wasn't only loyal to Don Falcone. He was loyal to his old friend too, if in a very different way.
"I could have handled them. They don't pretend like you. Acting like you care but you don't." Obviously. He knew he was talking shit, he knew Victor cared but he couldn't process it properly when he was so cruel to him as to ruin his plans and take other sides against him. Victor wasn't with him in any way to he could comprehend so he felt more like an enemy than a friend.
"I have the tapes in the safe... let me up and I'll get it." He sounded reluctant and petulant, pouting childishly at his old friend for hurting him so much.
"They wouldn't care, you are right about that." And he knew Falcone wanted Roman dead, not that the man crossed his mind that often. He could imagine who he'd have sent if not him. Victor moved the letter opener, since he imagine that Roman wouldn't be able to get it out of the desk, then he took a step back, but held a hand out to Roman, to help him up should he want it. "You know that I like you."
He had to know. At least Victor wanted him to know. It was certainly true.
"Not as much as you like Falcone." Sliding off the desk, Roman stood on his own and brushed himself off, looking at the hole in his suit sadly before poking his finger through it with obvious lament. "You didn't have to fuck up my suit. That was uncalled for." With a petty huff, he stormed across the room to the safe and spun the dial around, careful to block his code from Zsasz view.
Opening it up, there was about 50 or more tapes lining the walls, along with some momentos from the fights. Plucking out the tape, he tossed it to Victor. "I don't see why everyone is mad at me. I made it clear, he signed a contract, how am I the bad guy?"
Victor caught the tape and then moved closer to Roman, lifting his shoulders a little.
"Bad for keeping it, not for making it. Don't worry, I'll visit the guy too. And I like him a lot less than you." Even if he was being petulant and huffy. Honestly, as annoying as it was for business, he liked it outside of it. Kind of cute.
So he took the last two steps closer as well and ducked his head to kiss him, before playfully biting his lower lip. "Stop pouting. You look sweet." Hard to resist.
"I'm allowed to pout. You were mean. You ruined my jacket."
Childishly and stubbornly, Roman didn't relent but he did relax a little, his shoulders falling from their tense position as he looked at Victor. Licking his lips, he moved forward and held Victor, holding him as he lazily leaned his head against his shoulder. Well, he hated being mad at him... even if he was still mad. And rightly so! Victor had wronged him.
But he also liked Victor, even if Victor didn't love him as much any more. Tragic. "You never visit me any more. Why are you so cruel? It's just not fair."
"I've been busy." He had been, that wasn't a lie. With Don Falcone... Victor knew that his Don had lost some of his drive. The sharks were circling, sensing blood in the water. It meant that he had to be more of a presence, he was a symbol of power after all.
He also knew that Roman didn't care. Roman was needy, always had been. He had heard the man whine about not being paid enough attention while getting his cock sucked, so, really? hard to satisfy. He was playing with his hair now, once more, drawing calming circles on his scalp. "Don't you like how cruel I am?"
"I like when I'm in on it and it's fun. There's fun cruel and then there's ruining my suit and never calling." They were two very different things - one was a lot of fun to play with and the other meant not talking to Zsasz for a long time and then suddenly he turned up, only to then exclusively want to talk business. Okay, maybe not exclusively, maybe he asked about the mask but whatever! Who cared?
"You're always busy. I'm busy too but I find time to have fun. Why can't you?" He looked at the close door and frowned at it, feeling very annoyed at everything and everyone. "I guess you don't care since you got yourself a harem."
"Hm." Victor wondered whether it was worth pointing out that whatever kept Roman busy was unlikely to be as important as his own business, then he wisely decided that, nah, really wasn't worth another tantrum. He was still holding on to the last one, after all. "I have my fun in-between, don't worry. Is it because I'm not having fun with you?"
"Everywhere you go, girls go with you. It's so boring. Of all men. I never expected you to be the type." Pulling away, Roman rolled his eyes and grabbed his drink off the side, dropping into his office chair and sipping his drink as he looked at the disorganised mess of his desk. "Can't think of anything more tedious than surrounding yourself with women."
With a loud sigh, he kicked his legs up onto the desk and gave Victor a frank look. "You have fun with everyone but me. I expect it these days, I know you don't care about me any more. I get it. Tragic but I moved on, I'm a big boy." Pfft. As if.
"Mostly women and nonbinary, in my closer circle." If he had to focus in on gender to that degree - and of course he did, not as if Victor didn't know why - he was going to point that out. "I've plenty of men under me too."
The wording might be intentional. He tilted his head at that last assertion. Being accused of not caring, he was used to that. But moving on? Victor jumped up onto Roman's desk, rather unnecessarily athletic about it, then he knelt down. On top of the desk, so he obviously still looked down at Roman, but that didn't mean he couldn't move his hands behind his neck and watch for any reaction. "I know you are a big boy."
He had taken care of business. He could play a little.
"Don't look at me like that. You play these games but they're not as fun as you think." Said the guy already getting worked up. He leaned forward and looked into Victor's eyes, trying to seem determined and unbothered but instead, the want almost twinkled in his eyes as he leaned in closer. With a sigh, he shook his head and purposefully forced himself back in his chair, wanting to be strong.
He decided who he wanted. Victor could chase him, not visa versa.
"I have plenty of guys and girls under me too, fun to play with but they mean nothing. Half the time, they wind up dead. Either after or during." Roman laughed as he tried his best not to stare at Victor. He could do this. He could be cool.
"Uh-huh." No, Victor wasn't convinced, but - knowing Roman - he was quite impressed at his self-discipline. Usually he didn't exhibit that much of it. "Of course they mean nothing. So why bother with them?"
Not that he minded Roman having others. He wasn't really the type for jealousy. However, possessiveness? That could be fun. That knowledge that he could do this, when he wanted to. When he wanted to play.
"I'm not your boss. Falcone is. Don't-- Don't dick with me. I know the game and it's not gonna get to me." Roman had to take a stand, he had to defend himself and keep himself from falling from Zsasz every time he came in and got all kinky, called him boss and -- God damn it. He had to cross his legs to try and hide his boner.
Why was it that easy?! Every damn time.
"I bother with them cause you don't bother with me." He had to settle for lesser fucks cause Victor was Falcone's pet instead. "You're cruel to me, Zsaszy."
"You know I don't do this with the Don." At least he sincerely hoped he knew that. Although the idea of Falcone's face when being presented with the concept was admittedly hilarious. "This isn't business. This is just us. I am what I am, but we've dealt with that for today. I'm still who I am too. And I chose to come and see you. I choose to stay longer now."
He had to smile a little. "You're cruel to yourself, Roman. You'll not sleep well tonight if you keep resisting."
"Yeah, well...." He ran out of points to make and after a few moments of awkward stalling, he was too climbing onto the desk to make out with Victor, desperately trying to touch every inch of him, his resolve crumbling so easily under Victor and his steady gaze. It was impossible to win against someone so cool and collect.
In the end, the only loser would be him and they both knew it. He hated how it felt, he hated being the more needy one but he knew what he wanted to get from him.
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It was fucking gold. He loved it. He wasn't going to just give it up. "Besides, I don't keep tapes. Not my style. Kind of gauche, don't you think?"
With defiance in his eyes, he walked back over to his desk and leaned against it. "Sorry."
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However, he'd much rather do it for fun than business. But that didn't stop him from following behind Roman, crossing the room and attacking him immediately. He ended up tossing him over his shoulder and onto the desk, grabbing a letter opener and ramming it through his suit jacket and into the desk to pin him down. He had a knife in his free hand, the other was by Roman's chest, tightening his tie gradually while he looked down on him.
"Business, Roman. Not play time. So don't play with me."
He was starting to get the appeal of a desk this size though.
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It was Italian! High quality, double breasted. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!"
Seething from where he was pinned, he glared up at Victor, his anger obvious, more concerned for his clothes than his skin. His poor tie was being mangled as he found himself struggling to breathe. "I don't fucking have it!"
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However, this was Roman. He didn't want him dead and he knew him. Still ruled by base emotions more than his brain, he doubted he'd ever get over that. It was a miracle he'd even survived this long. Victor would have killed him if it had been anyone but him, but here he was. Professional wouldn't do.
He moved his hand to run his fingers through Roman's hair, a gentle touch, and he lowered his voice. "Breathe, Roman."
A part of him had to come through eventually. One that recognised what a mistake he'd made.
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It was hard to get back to breathing normally, his eyes were seeing white for a few moments before he could get himself together enough to look at Victor, to refocus and realise what situation he was in.
And he hated it.
Fuck. What did he even do now? He inhaled and exhaled, looking at Victor with wild eyes, not sure if he was about to be executed or not. Why the fuck did Victor Zsasz have to be this guy? Why did he have to be Falcones?
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"Will you give me what I've come for?" He could hurt him, of course, he would get the job done any which way. But he wasn't only loyal to Don Falcone. He was loyal to his old friend too, if in a very different way.
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"I have the tapes in the safe... let me up and I'll get it." He sounded reluctant and petulant, pouting childishly at his old friend for hurting him so much.
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He had to know. At least Victor wanted him to know. It was certainly true.
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Opening it up, there was about 50 or more tapes lining the walls, along with some momentos from the fights. Plucking out the tape, he tossed it to Victor. "I don't see why everyone is mad at me. I made it clear, he signed a contract, how am I the bad guy?"
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"Bad for keeping it, not for making it. Don't worry, I'll visit the guy too. And I like him a lot less than you." Even if he was being petulant and huffy. Honestly, as annoying as it was for business, he liked it outside of it. Kind of cute.
So he took the last two steps closer as well and ducked his head to kiss him, before playfully biting his lower lip. "Stop pouting. You look sweet." Hard to resist.
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Childishly and stubbornly, Roman didn't relent but he did relax a little, his shoulders falling from their tense position as he looked at Victor. Licking his lips, he moved forward and held Victor, holding him as he lazily leaned his head against his shoulder. Well, he hated being mad at him... even if he was still mad. And rightly so! Victor had wronged him.
But he also liked Victor, even if Victor didn't love him as much any more. Tragic. "You never visit me any more. Why are you so cruel? It's just not fair."
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He also knew that Roman didn't care. Roman was needy, always had been. He had heard the man whine about not being paid enough attention while getting his cock sucked, so, really? hard to satisfy. He was playing with his hair now, once more, drawing calming circles on his scalp. "Don't you like how cruel I am?"
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"You're always busy. I'm busy too but I find time to have fun. Why can't you?" He looked at the close door and frowned at it, feeling very annoyed at everything and everyone. "I guess you don't care since you got yourself a harem."
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He smirked, definitely amused. "Harem? Huh."
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With a loud sigh, he kicked his legs up onto the desk and gave Victor a frank look. "You have fun with everyone but me. I expect it these days, I know you don't care about me any more. I get it. Tragic but I moved on, I'm a big boy." Pfft. As if.
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The wording might be intentional. He tilted his head at that last assertion. Being accused of not caring, he was used to that. But moving on? Victor jumped up onto Roman's desk, rather unnecessarily athletic about it, then he knelt down. On top of the desk, so he obviously still looked down at Roman, but that didn't mean he couldn't move his hands behind his neck and watch for any reaction. "I know you are a big boy."
He had taken care of business. He could play a little.
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He decided who he wanted. Victor could chase him, not visa versa.
"I have plenty of guys and girls under me too, fun to play with but they mean nothing. Half the time, they wind up dead. Either after or during." Roman laughed as he tried his best not to stare at Victor. He could do this. He could be cool.
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Not that he minded Roman having others. He wasn't really the type for jealousy. However, possessiveness? That could be fun. That knowledge that he could do this, when he wanted to. When he wanted to play.
"How do you want me, boss?"
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Why was it that easy?! Every damn time.
"I bother with them cause you don't bother with me." He had to settle for lesser fucks cause Victor was Falcone's pet instead. "You're cruel to me, Zsaszy."
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He had to smile a little. "You're cruel to yourself, Roman. You'll not sleep well tonight if you keep resisting."
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In the end, the only loser would be him and they both knew it. He hated how it felt, he hated being the more needy one but he knew what he wanted to get from him.