Chapter Text
Chance sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes. He looked to his side and looked at Don(Mafioso), and placed a kiss on his forehead. He then proceeded to get up out of bed, and held his head in anguish. Did he have a headache? He didn't care enough right now, he walked to the restroom and looked in the mirror
"Jesus, I look like shit."
Chance said to himself, touching his forehead.
"fucking Christ I am sick, that's rare.."
He turned on the cold water and sloshed it on his face lazily, blinking twice before turning off the water and drying his face; then he walked out and headed back into the room, seeing Mafioso gone. that was normal, Mafioso somehow always got up when he was in the restroom ever since they moved in together. Chance walked over to the drawers and grabbed some clothes, an oversized long sleeve and some shorts, or jorts..? He turned around and saw mafiosos tall figure looming over him. Mafiosos ear twitched before he placed a kiss on Chances cheek.
"Good morning, Amore mio. Soldier and Consigliere have made breakfast this morning."
Mafioso spoke in that low, raspy morning voice. Hot, if you asked Chance. After being with Mafioso for so long, the two started sleeping together, or more so cuddling if you asked contractee; The two had gotten used to their morning routine.
Chance spoke softly as well, but unusually soft as his normal tone. "Ah, good morning hun.. I'm sorry, but I'm not really that hungered right now.."
Mafioso raised an eyebrow, it was unlikely for Chance to turn down a meal, but mafioso didn't ask any questions.
"Alright, I will tell them to not await on you. Make sure you eat later alright bunny? I have to work late today."
Chances lips tugged a small frown, he was hoping mafioso could stay home today, but he didn't want to push him, after all, Chance HAS been asking him for a little much recently..
"Alright, I will.. have a good day at work."
Chance kissed Mafioso on the lips before he parted and left chance standing alone in the room. Chance sighed before moving to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He looked into the mirror for 5 seconds before taking off his shirt, pants and boxers. He walked over to the shower and turned on the water to hot. He waited until the bathroom fogged up before climbing in, letting the hot warmth wash away whatever was on his skin.
He reached for the shampoo, and poured some in his hand and put the bottle down, then he lathered his long, silky grey hair with it, being mindful of his ears. He also cleaned behind his ears, careful to not get soap inside. He let the water wash away the suds of soap, before he grabbed body wash and poured some onto the loofa, and started scrubbing his parts; making sure to get everywhere. He needed to smell good, even if he was sick. Chance hated being dirty.
After the soap had washed off, he started to stand there for a bit. His eyes drifted to the single-blade razor he owned, it made his legs smoother, as he told mafioso when questioned. Sure, that was partly true, but the other half was for a reason he's not proud of, and habits are hard to break.
He picked up the razor, and looked back at his already scab littered thighs. He was always told his thighs were a blessing for a man, but he hated them.
He put the razor back down before turning off the water and grabbing his towel and drying himself off. He got out and put on his clothes, with some struggle. if you know you know.
He left the bathroom after getting dressed, and walked downstairs into the living room. He then plopped on the couch with a soft groan, and stared at the ceiling. As he stared, he swore he saw a figure of someone, someone who betrayed him before he got forsakened. ITrapped, that Elsa knockoff, that asshole who killed him, after taking his virginity. But wasn't Chance a man? How did he lose his virginity to another man? Logic I tell you. Chance sat up and walked off to the door, then put on his shoes, his fancy ones he always wore. He then left the house and walked towards the survivors cabin, he opened the door to see nobody. perhaps they were doing a round, its been a while since he participated in a round, so might as well to get his mind off things.
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Chance flipped a coin, and got tails. Luck obviously was not on his side today. He coughed, then ran behind a wall to catch his breath. c00lk1dd was relentless, but he couldn't blame the kid for doing so, he thought it was a game of tag. Suddenly, he felt something hot rise in his throat. He knew exactly what it was. They staggered over to the bathroom inside the abandoned building, and locked the door. He slumped onto the floor near the toilet, right as his stomach started to empty itself, or as Chance would say, flipping inside out.
He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he continued to vomit, it hurt.
He wanted it to end. He didn't like it. He would rather die.
Right as he thought it would stop, he felt a piercing pain in his chest, and glitched giggling.
" Your it! "
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He woke up in his bed, the silky soft sheets covering him while he turned. He still felt like shit, but there was a cool rag over his forehead. He obviously was not in the cabin, as the walls were a cashmere colour. How did Mafioso find him? Who got him here? His head suddenly shot his thoughts out of his head as it started throbbing, making Chance groan softly. Chance heard the door creak open, and the smell of soup filled the room. "I see you woke up, Chance." Mafioso spoke softly, but concerned. Chance looked over at him, not bothering to move his head as it hurt.
"Maf..?"
Chance said with a crack in his voice, it was sore from sickness, vomiting, and coughing. Mafiosos ears dropped, but not as low as Chances. He felt sad that Chance didn't tell him he was sick, but he didn't want to make Chance feel worse. He walked over to chance and set the bowl of soup onto the bedside table, and sat on the bed next to Chance. He put the back of his hand on Chances cheek, feeling how warm Chance still was. If he didn't get better by tomorrow, he would have to get a doctor, somehow.
"Are you feeling better, bunny, Elliot brought you here after the round saying he found you entirely passed out in the cabin after the round, with bile around your mouth.."
Chances eyes slightly widened, he didn't want Elliot to know he was sick, but now that he did, he wouldn't let chance participate in any rounds until he was better. But a part of him was relieved, he didn't want to get hurt anymore than he did.
After all, he was just glad he wasn't stabbed in his stomach. He didn't want to hurt someone.