Chapter 1: An artist equivalent of drawing with one hand but it's writing with one hand I mean what
Chapter Text
The table rattled with the sound of smug laughter and it was obvious that it's the kind of laughter that could only come from men who had too much money and not enough to fear. Rich bastards indeed. The crystal glasses clinked, cigars smoked lazily between well-manicured fingers and bets were tossed carelessly like pocket change. Chance sat among these rich bastards with a drink in hand.
He wore his usual tailored crimson suit that clung to him with the silk catching the lowlight every time he shifted. Sharp lapels, gloves tucked into one pocket and those infamous red star-shaped sunglasses perched on his nose. His golden eyes hid behind those dazzling lenses that made the bastards nervous. That was the trick. Smile with the mouth, lie with the eyes.
He leaned back in his chair, legs crossed with a lazy smile on his lips. one hand twirled a poker chip between his fingers before he chuckled faintly then downed the rest of his drink in one smooth tilt. The liquid scorched his throat and it's how he liked it.
Keep laughing, assholes
With a sharp scrape of his chair against marble, Chance stood up. His grin stretched across his face. “Well, gentlemen,” he drawled, his voice thick with mischief. “It’s been a pleasure robbing you blind." He let the poker chip fall from his fingers and land with a clink before slamming his cards onto the table with a clean snap. Everyone scrambled forward to look only to recoil in rage in an instant at the sight of royal flush.
“Royal. Fucking. Flush.”
The smug laughter that chance is tired of hearing shattered into good ol’ curses. Groans erupted around the table and chance watched In satisfaction when one man threw his cigar on the floor while another knocked over his glass in disbelief.
“You son of a-how the hell did you-”
Chance just smiled wider. His gold tooth glinted with golden eyes sparkling with pure delight. “What was that you were saying, Lucien?” he tilted his head mockingly. “‘Babyface Chance can’t bluff to save his ass’?” Lucien, some slicked-back heir to some dead oil fortune, scowled and leaned forward. “You little rat. You were losing the whole night. You had nothing five hands ago.”
Chance shrugged, tossing the cards casually on the pile of chips. “Maybe I was just adding some suspense aye?” his grin split wider as he reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink. “though, maybe you’re just not as good as you thought, sweetheart.”
The dealer stifled a laugh as someone in the back coughed to hide a chuckle. A balding man on the left huffed. “I swear, you’re a goddamn magician, Chance.”
“Flattered. I'm blessed by lady luck herself ya know?” Chance quipped, reaching for the mountain of chips that now belonged to him. “you all paid the price for underestimating a pretty face.”
Lucien slammed his fist on the table, face red. “This is bullshit! You’re cheating- they're cheating!” Chance stifled a cocky laugh, hearing another man groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Oh, for telamon’s sake, Lucien. Just admit you got played.”
“Tell you what-next round, I’ll play blindfolded. Even the odds.” He swirled the last of his whiskey lazily, fingers tapping a rhythm on the table.
“You cocky little-”
“Ah-ah,” Chance tutted, holding up a hand before he slid a chip down Lucien’s side of the table. “No violence in the gentleman’s lounge, remember?” His expression was unreadable beneath those mirrored star lenses but his jaw tensed just slightly. Chance knew he should be careful. win too many hands, and the table starts plotting to kill the dealer but he’d be damned if he didn’t smile the whole way down.
He raised his glass toward the fuming crowd and gave a mocking little bow. “To the house,” he said with a grin. “She always wins when I’m in it.”
The game resumed albeit much more cautiously now. The grumbling bastards at the table were suddenly very meticulous with their chips. Chance leaned near the table again, fingers twitching with the itch to dive back into the game, the thrill still pulsing in his blood. He was just about to slide into his seat when a tap on his shoulder made him freeze. A light tap but it might as well have been a gunshot with how fast his body locked up.
Chance turned slightly and that was all it took. His eyes caught the glint of a blue silk vest, the familiar shimmer of a white coat draped over broad shoulders and the pale gold of tied-back hair that fell just above those maddeningly icy eyes. Oh no. His entire face flushed crimson. Holy shit..talk about a royal flush indeed.
He straightened so fast his spine nearly cracked, arms stiff at his sides. His hands moved to his collar as he nervously fidgeted with the top button that he’d left undone all night for charm. Now he thinks it was a bad fucking decision. With trembling fingers, he tried and failed to button it with any sense of subtlety “Chance,” the man in the blue vest greeted with a casual smile. “Nice win.” Chance nearly melted on the spot.
That smooth low voice.. so casual in a way that shouldn’t have made chance’s knees weak. “Itrapped,” Chance choked out, blinking rapidly. “Hi.”
You sound like an idiot. Fix your face. Why are you blushing. Why are you blushing.
FUCK The entire table noticed. Chance should have known the second Itrapped had stepped in- all will turned to look. The entire table exploded into snickers and muffled laughter. These fuckass idiots.
"Well, would you look at that," one of the men cackled, slapping the table. “Chancey boy’s got a tell after all. It’s blue and six feet tall.”
“Careful, buddy, your collar’s gonna melt from how red your neck is.” another quipped.
“Damn, son, don't embarrass us too!”
Chance cleared his throat, fumbling to fix the top button of his shirt again. “I-it's just warm in here, alright?” he snapped but his voice cracked halfway through. His eyes darted toward the man in front of him again and his expression softened involuntarily. Fucking shit.
The man in question simply smiled. That damn casual, warm, effortlessly charming smile. It only made Chance’s brain short-circuit more. “Evening, Chance,” Itrapped said smoothly like the warm breeze of autumn. Oh this is bad. He's getting poetic now. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Just thought I’d stop by before the crowd gets too rowdy.”
Chance blinked once, twice. Say something cool. Say anything. Telamon help him.
“I didn’t know you get flustered, Chance.” FUCKKK.. another couldn't help but whisper close to him, laughing as they tapped the table. “Damn, maybe we should all show up in vests and ponytails.”
Chance, red-faced and flustered watched as itrapped looked at them and at his buddies in confusion.
“Are you okay?”
Chance let out a weak, nervous chuckle, tugging at his now tightly buttoned collar because it was strangling him. His throat was dry.
“You’re choking yourself.” Itrapped noted with a raised brow, reaching out and gently flicking one of the buttons Chance had just fastened too tight.
That did not help.
“You buttoned your collar all the way up. That’s new.”
“I-it’s regulation,” Chance blurted then instantly regretting it. "Casino regulation. Health and safety."
Itrapped blinked once, and then just chuckled. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re ridiculous.” Chance said too quickly, the comeback lame even in his own ears.
“Sure I am.” Itrapped said, biting back a smile before turning away to greet another patron with a polite nod. Chance slumped slightly in his seat, dragging a hand down his face.
Itrapped. His best friend. Or-best buddy? Yeah. Best buddy.
Best buddy who looked like he'd stepped out of chance's dream and landed in a damn cologne commercial. The white coat. The tailored vest. The faint cologne that smelled like mint and whiskey. It wasn't fair at all to desperate gamblers like themself.
Telamon, don’t croon. Don’t croon, Chance, act normal.
“You’re, uh... here.”
Itrapped raised a brow, turning to look back at him. “Clearly.”
More snickers from the table and chance resisted to pull a gun on his head. Finally the laughter at the table was starting to settle when Itrapped, with the same quiet authority he always carried looked at chance's golden eyes and said
“Chance. Come sit with us.”
Chance blinked while his brain stalled.
“...Huh?”
Itrapped gestured smoothly toward a far table in the corner of the casino which is his usual haunt when he visited. “You’ve made your rounds here,” he said, voice so smooth and cool. “Why don’t you join mine for once?”
Chance didn’t move nor he didn't dare to breathe. The blood in his ears thundered so loudly he could barely hear the murmurs of the gamblers still at his table, but he could feel their eyes on him. You see, the problem is- Itrapped never once invited Chance. Not even when he visited chance's casino weekly. Not even when they shared drinks after hours and especially not even when Chance tried so hard to pretend it didn’t sting every time he passed by that damn corner table.
Itrapped’s table or where the real sharks sat. These tall figures in trench coats and golden-trimmed suits. Tacky as hell might he add. They're always so quiet and their smiles never reached their eyes. No ID cards scanned on entry. Their accounts are always unregistered r if registered- it's clean on the surface.
“Mild exploiters." the robloxia HQ system labeled them. That was the official term But Chance knew what they were. They are parasites in robloxian's skins that is screwing Robloxia’s already rotting infrastructure with grins on their faces and hands deep in the economy’s guts.
Itrapped sat with them every time. He never participated thankfully.. chance thinks.. but he didn’t push them away either. Itrapped seemed to not care who his company was, as long as the table stayed quiet and clean. But for all that composure and for all that power, he never once asked Chance to sit until now.
“You serious?” Chance asked with his voice a little too flat. Itrapped raised a brow. “You scared of my friends?”
Friends? Okay.
Chance scoffed, pushing off the table. “Scared? Pfft nah.” And yet his steps faltered. He glanced toward the table again.
The exploiters had already turned to look at him. There's four of them. A woman with long, silver hair and a parasol leaned back lazily. A man with glowing UI tattoos tapped rhythmically on the table, One of them- some young kid with pixelated freckles glared at Chance. Ah fuck.
it wasn’t until his eyes landed on him that chance's breath caught. Seated at the far end of the table was a towering figure. His posture was relaxed but undeniably present. He was broad-shouldered and it was obvious he had that kind of strong build that didn't just wear a coat- it made the coat look smaller. The black overcoat clung to him and like Chance, the man also wore a fedora. The fedora tilted low to shade his eyes but unlike Chance, who wore his for flair, this guy wore his like a threat.
His jaw was strong, lined with a short, deliberate stubble. Blonde hair that is slightly messy under the rim of the hat, caught the light when he moved just slightly to sip his drink.
He smiled at chance as he watched chance directly. Chance felt the stare with every fiber of his being-dramatic as it is. despite the heat rising on the back of his neck chance couldn’t stop looking back.
His stomach twisted. “...Are you sure?” Chance asked quietly, suddenly aware of how his red suit felt too loud compared to the muted calm of that table.
Itrapped only glanced at him. “You afraid of a little company?”
Chance’s eyes flicked back to the man in the fedora. That’s not little company that's a big ass company, he thought but still, he nodded like the dumbass that they are.
“I-guess not.” Chance murmured, adjusting their hat on instinct. The fabric suddenly felt heavier. As they followed Itrapped to the table. Damn it, he could feel the man in the black coat continuing to watch.
The laughter and music of his casino dulled behind him as he sat down. His hand rested on the table just like the man across from him.
“Heya.”
Chance offered the word with a flicker of a smile and hope it would crack the ice but there was no response and no nods. They didn't even spare him a glance. The exploiters around the table moved like he wasn’t there. They continued shuffling chips and sipping drinks while adjusting their sleeves. Chance didn't like that. Just as chance is about to say hello again- Itrapped interrupted with a soft hum as he placed a hand on Chance’s shoulder in passing.
“Entertain my friend, yeah?” he said lightly, voice warm as always. “I’ve got someone to see. I’ll be right back.”
Chance’s blood froze. “Itrapped-?” he called out. Hoping his crush would stay with him but Itrapped was already walking away without looking back so just like that, Chance was alone at a table full of criminals that stared right through him.
Oh god. He left him. He actually left him.
He sat stiffly, trying to pretend he wasn’t panicking. His hand hovered over the deck, then retreated. No one invited him to deal and no one passed him a drink. The silence throbbed in his ears until a soft scrape of movement interrupted his spiraling. Chance’s eyes snapped to the fedora man seated across from him. with a precise move, the man pulled a dark cigar from a silver case. He placed it between his lips slowly and lit it with a match struck on the underside of his black glove. The flame flickered in front of his face that illuminated the edge of his jawline and the pale stubble covering it. Smoke curled up toward the brim of his hat, obscuring his eyes even more.
Then he spoke.
“...So,” the man drawled, the deep accent lilt in his voice catching chance's attention. “You’re the casino’s li’l golden boy, are ya?”
Chance blinked, unsure whether to feel insulted or flattered. “I mean-uh... something like that,” he said, trying to keep it casual.
The man chuckled softly “Mm. Thought so.” he said, cigar still tucked between his teeth as he exhaled a plume of smoke that drifted straight toward Chance. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you look more like the trophy than the player.”
Chance coughed lightly, waving the smoke away. “I’ve won games bloodier than this,” he muttered, bristling despite himself.
“Oh, I’ve no doubt,” the man replied coolly, the cigar now bobbing between two fingers as he spoke. “But winnin’ a few rounds with the house stacked in your favour that’s not quite the same as survivin’, is it? confidence doesn't mean you belong here, mate.”
Chance’s chest tightened. They watched the lazy flick of his wrist, the man tapped ash into a silver tray. "What’s your name, then?” he asked, tone light but faintly mocking. “Or shall I just call you Red Suit? Seems apt. You wear it like you’re hopin’ someone’ll notice you bleed bright, too.”
Chance stared at him, mouth opening slightly. The fucking audacity. This man talks in riddles. “I’m Chance.” he said at last.
Another long drag from the cigar. The man leaned back. “Course you are,” he said, deadpan like he already knew. “So... Chance.” the man said, his voice dipping lower now. “That what they call you? Funny, that. Never much cared for luck, myself. But I s’pose it’s got its uses when you can’t play the real game.”
Chance frowned, but kept his tone light to match even. “I play just fine.”
“Mm, indeed..no doubt..” the man said, puffing his cigar thoughtfully. “But do you bleed fine, too? ‘Cause at this table, boy, you don’t win with pretty hands. You win with what you’re willing to lose.”
That hit harder than Chance expected. He stiffened slightly. The fuck? Chance tried to laugh it off, but his throat was dry. The heat under his collar felt suffocating. He forced his expression neutral, but his fingers had already curled a little too tight around his chips.
The man’s smile only widened.
“Ah... there it is.” He tapped ash into the silver tray again, then finally extended a gloved hand across the table. “maff. A special nick' just for you."
“...Chance.”
Their hands met firmly. “Fancy a game, won’t ya?” he asked, his accent rich with amusement. Chance tried not to grimace as he nodded once. “Sure. Just don’t cry when I win.”
“Oh,” Maff chuckled, the sound warm but empty, “I don’t cry, darling. I collect.”
The cards were dealt with expert hands as someone passed the deck without a word. The other players stayed silent while sipping their drinks. One round head to head.
He forced himself to breathe slowly, letting instinct kick in. Focus. Watch everything. Count beats. Track gestures. He didn't care if this bastard is a mild exploiter. chance had played hundreds of games and most of them are dirtier than this.
Chance soon grasped at how maff plays.
Maff's right thumb brushes the corner of the card when he’s got something decent. He's Not bluffing. He plays slow when he’s building confidence. Faster when he’s controlling tempo. He’s confident right now. He's fucking confident right now. Maff looked up through the shadow of his fedora, smiling faintly.
“Careful now, Red Suit. That head of yours looks awfully loud. Must be exhausting, gamblin’ against ghosts in your own brain.”
Chance blinked once, gathering himself quickly. He gave a half-smile, his fingers tapping once on the table. “crying now old man?”
Maff chuckled as he tilted his head slightly. “Old? Bless. You haven’t even seen me begin to get nasty yet, sweetheart.”
Focus. Read the hands, not the mouth. Don’t let him talk you under. Goddamnit, focus chance.
Maff glanced at his hand. It's brief and confident. He wasn’t even pretending to hide it. He knew he didn’t have to and that made chance’s face instantly pale. “I’ll give you credit, love,” he continued, voice velvet-smooth. “You’ve got nerve. Most folk would’ve folded by now. Guess Itrapped didn’t bring just a lapdog to the table, did he?”
Chance’s jaw ticked but he forced a small smile.
“Bite’s worse than my bark, promise.”
Maff smiled back.
“Let’s see it, then.”
The final cards were laid.
Chance stared at his hand. Then at Maff’s. His stomach sank. He lost. maff didn’t gloat. He just puffed his cigar, the glow of it flaring in the dim casino lights before exhaling slowly. “There it is,” he said softly. “And down you go. Graceful little fall, that. You lose well.”
Chance leaned back, trying not to scowl. His smile was thin but behind the curve of his lips with his thoughts were racing. That shouldn’t have happened. He ran the math in his head again. He hadn’t been bluffing. Not this round. He’d counted every damn card that passed through their hands and had traced the way the chips moved. He also had tracked the flick of Maff’s fingers and the rhythm of his bets. The odds were in his favor. They were. He felt it in his gut. This wasn’t just gambler’s confidence because this was his instinct. He’d studied tells and knew how probability curved and when it snapped and it had snapped right in his face.
There’s no way he beat chance clean.
Chance’s gaze narrowed behind his red star-shaped glasses as Maff puffed lazily on his cigar. This bastard is too relaxed. He didn’t even blink when the winning hand was revealed nor he didn’t lean forward to see Chance’s expression. Chance had seen his fair share of backdoor cheats. Silent signals, rigged decks and tapped chips but Maff wasn’t touching the cards funny and he also wasn’t doing anything that screamed “cheat.”
That made it worse. exploiters, Chance thought bitterly. Fucking exploiters. Bet he’s running some silent override just enough to tip the edge his way.
He swallowed that bitter taste and forced out words instead.
“I’m just giving you a head start,” he muttered. Across the table, chance got the impression that maff arched a brow, that cold smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Oh?” he purred. “That so?”
Chance clenched his fists under the table, gripping his thigh until his knuckles hurt. His lips parted before he could stop himself.
"Right,” he muttered. “Guess exploiting’s fair game after all.”
Maff tilted his head, and this time his smile wasn’t so wide. It was sharper.
“I’m not an exploiter, lad.”
Then he leaned back, tapping ash into the silver tray without breaking eye contact.
“I’m a debt collector and Exploiting? That’s amateur hour. I don’t play with the code. I play with what people owe.”
His smile turned to steel.
“And someone at this table owes quite a lot.”
Chance’s throat tightened, a cold knot of dread settling in his chest. Was that… meant for him? it wasn’t the sentence that made his blood run cold. It was the look in Maff’s eyes. Chance barely had time to react when Maff stood up.
Click.
The sudden gleam of metal was all the warning he got.
“Shit-” Chance’s breath hitched watching Maff pulled out his gun and instinctively, Chance flinched, arms twitching up to shield him from a bullet that was already too close. time slowed for him right that instant
BANG.
The shot rang out. Chance’s eyes flew open, heart thundering in his chest. He expected to feel warm blood pouring from his own body. But instead… it came from the side. He turned his head, slowly. The mild exploiter lay crumpled at his side. A clean bullet through the skull. Dead before he hit the ground. the casino didn’t even blink as the Chips clinked, The dice rolled and the laughter murmured from the slot machines because this was his casino. Violence came with the decor.
Still, Chance’s breath shuddered as he leaned back against the velvet-cushioned booth, face pale, his pulse screaming against the inside of his skin. He shot him. Holy shit, Maff actually shot em.
He tried to chuckle and to play it off, but it came out thin and dry. “Damn, you could’ve warned me,” he muttered, voice shaky. “I thought you were gonna shoot me, man.”
Maff sat back and grunted. "Aye, will do.” Chance swallowed hard, forcing a laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Cool. Good to know.” And yet, his hands trembled just slightly beneath the table. My god. Chance didn’t want to play anymore. He adjusted his collar. fingers twitching in restless discomfort. His polished shoe tapped anxiously against the marble floor.
Come on. Just one good thing. Just one. His gaze flicked toward the grand entrance of the lounge, hopeful and desperate even just in time to hear familiar footsteps. Chance immediately perked up, breath hitching with relief. “Finally,” he murmured under his breath, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he straightened in his seat. “Took you long enough…”
But the smile faltered as quickly as it came because his Itrapped didn’t even glance at him. Chance’s expression froze mid-smile at the man that breezed right past him, He turned in his chair, bewildered. “Wait-” But Itrapped had already reached Maff and Chance could only watch as Maff, seated tilted his head back with that lazy elegance, sharp jawline cutting through the light, crimson revealed eyes aglow with smug amusement.
Without a single word, itrapped leaned down and kissed Maff right there In front of everyone and In front of him.
“Chance, meet maff. My boyfriend.”
_______________________
"And you know what!?" Chance practically screamed, voice cracking as he flung his arms out. “Chance, meet Maff-my boyfriend!”
He was kneeling on the greasy sidewalk just outside the pizzeria, his knees hitting the concrete with a dull thud. He looked like a mess. Drunk first thing in the morning. His jacket had slipped off one shoulder, his hair was a mess, and tears that is not quite falling but definitely gathering clung to his lashes.
Elliot, his longtime friend, stood awkwardly above him with his eyes darting between the windows of the pizzeria and Chance’s form. “Chance, please,” Elliot hissed, glancing over his shoulder nervously. “Get up, my manager’s gonna see me out here and think I’m harboring a- a crime scene or something-”
But Chance wasn’t listening because, goddamn. He was too far gone from his heartbreak. “No! No-you don’t get it, Elliot!” he sobbed, voice shrill, raw from disbelief. “He-he-!” He pointed at himself, jabbing his own chest with so much force it hurt. “He has a boyfriend, Elliot! A boyfriend!”
He scrambled to his feet, only to stumble a little, waving his arms dramatically
“My crush,” he said, breathless, eyes wide “has a ridiculously handsome boyfriend And he just-he just-introduced him to me like we were playing happy families or some shit!”
Elliot blinked. “You’re uh. You’re really going through it, huh?”
Chance flailed like a man possessed, both hands tangled in his hair as he paced in frantic circles behind the pizzeria. “What the fuck! His boyfriend is a debt collector! A fucking collector, Elliot! Does he- does he like those types?!”
He froze mid-step. “Wait. I’m a kinda debt collector, aren’t I?! Like- I do threaten people for money on behalf of other people sometimes.”
“You threaten people because you owe them money,” Elliot, sitting on an overturned milk crate nearby, didn’t even blink. With the most blank stare humanly possible, he reached up and casually began tying his long blond hair into a ponytail. “That’s… not the same thing” Elliot corrected flatly. The ponytail safely tucked.
The very same kind of ponytail, Chance bitterly noted, that Itrapped had.
“God, why can’t I fall for ya instead?” Chance groaned, slumping down the alley. He sat in a sad little heap of emotional failure while glaring up at Elliot. “You’ve got the hair,” he continued miserably. “You’re blonde. You’re tall. You’ve got that whole cold, emotionally unavailable thing going for you. You even have a mysterious family connection.”
“I’m literally just working,” Elliot muttered, pulling the elastic tight around his ponytail.
“And that’s the problem!” Chance cried, throwing up his arms. “You’re a workaholic! I’m crying in the back alley of your job, Elliot, because the only time you’re available is during your legally-mandated break.”
Elliot sighed, glancing at the time on his watch. “This isn’t even my break.”
“Exactly!”
Elliot, nephew of Builderman (might he add) himself is somehow always busy always about five seconds away from being called to another crisis. He had been Chance’s friend since they were kids. tagging along behind each other through school, first jobs and street scams. And yet, despite their history, Chance could barely call him a best friend anymore.
Not out of lack of love, telamon no. He loves the guy actually excuse you- but because Elliot had turned into a full-on workaholic. He was a walking schedule, a to-do list with legs. And now here Chance was- crying in the back alley of a pizzeria because apparently that’s what heartbreak looks like when your only emotionally available friend has a shift to finish.
“ya know,” Chance sniffled. “it’s really humiliating to be crying on literal garbage day.”
“It’s Tuesday. Of course it is.” Elliot side-eyed a leaking trash bag two feet away and sighed. “Exactly,” Chance said. “I got dumped by a fantasy I never even dated on a Tuesday.”
Elliot groaned as he finally crouched beside him. “Alright. Ten minutes. Cry it out. But if you’re still on the ground by the time my break ends, I’m dragging you into the kitchen and making you mop.” Chance wiped his nose with the sleeve of his suit. “I should’ve fallen for you.”
“You did, remember? Sixth grade. You got over it after I beat you in arsenal and called you a coward.”
“…Right. Good times.”
“Now shut up and cry faster.”
Chance was mid-sniffle, tears still clinging to his lashes, when a phone was suddenly shoved right into his face.
“Wh-wha-hey! What the hell-?” He blinked rapidly, instinctively pulling back before freezing when he caught sight of the screen.
On the screen was a casual selfie, low-angle, but clear enough. Someone with tousled platinum-blonde hair and soft, slanted blue eyes looked back at him, smirking. They were lounging on a disco bar, their outfit scandalously showy. They looked almost exactly like iTrapped except younger, and with gentler features. Rounder cheeks. Slightly smaller nose. “What the fuck-” Chance breathed. “That’s… that’s him. That’s literally- holy spawn”
“Don’t even think about it,” Elliot snapped. “That cult is shit. If I find out you’re getting mixed up in that spawn-worshipping nonsense-”
“I’m not!” Chance hissed, not even tearing his eyes away from the photo. “But come on, look at them! they got the same face-”
Elliot narrowed his eyes. “they're literally from Voxel District 9. Of course they look familiar.”
Chance blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”
Elliot rolled his eyes. “In Robloxia, there's a sixty-percent chance you’ll meet someone who looks genetically identical to someone else you know. We’re a clone-heavy society face templates, recycled DNA batches, messed-up algorithms, you know the drill you idiot. That’s why there’s twelve builderman-looking guys running around that aren’t uncle builderman himself.”
“Okay, yeah, but this one-” Chance gestured wildly at the screen, “this one has the exact same face and the same stupid lil’ eyebrow scar-”
“That’s database redundancy.”
“But what’s the use, huh?!” Chance’s voice cracked as he threw his arms up, then let them fall limp at his sides. He deflated, slumping back down onto the cold pavement of the alley. His gaze dropped to the ground and to the little cracks in the cement and the cigarette butts he didn’t remember being there.
“What’s the damn point?” he muttered.
Clap!
The sharp sound made Chance jump. “You,” Elliot announced, dusting off his pants. “have a date tomorrow night.”
Chance blinked. “...What?”
“You heard me,” Elliot said with infuriating nonchalance. “Date. Tomorrow night. Dress nice and don't show up with that godawfull red suit.”
"What the fuck? With who!?”
Elliot didn’t even look at him. “My friend. I set it up during your pity party today. They think you’re cute.”
“I'm gonna throw up.”
Chapter 2: 2. Let's pretend you don't know me okay? Ok.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827 00:06
Heya! this is chance, Elliot's friend. What time and where? The date I mean ^^
Chance bit down on his knuckles, teeth sinking into the flesh of his fist as he tried to muffle the desperate, high-pitched scream building in his throat but it didn’t work because a strangled whine escaped him anyway. He sat crammed inside his own wardrobe, knees pressed against his chest. They are surrounded by a mountains of flamboyant suits that a casino owner such as like him wear.
“Monochrome,” he muttered to himself, his voice raw with disbelief and heartbreak when he remembered Elliot's advice. “They like monochrome.” He stared ahead at a sea of reds, purples, neon greens and rainbow stripes suits. not a single black-on-black look in sight. Chance slammed his forehead lightly against the wardrobe wall thrice. “why am I such an idiot with blondes.” he hissed under his breath, then yanked his phone out of his lap again.
he hissed under his breath, then yanked his phone out of his lap again however he quickly stiffened when the glow of his phone lit up, the tiny blue notification bar flashing.
🟦 ▌ (555) 731-9042
Haiiya chance!! Good afternoon<3
Chance blinked, his thumb hovering over the screen. His cheeks warmed instantly as the faintest blush creeped up when his read the greeting. That word Haiiya made him saw another face in their mind, fantasy itrapped grinning at them with that eager spark this date have. “Ugh, stop it,” Chance muttered under his breath. This isn’t itrapped. Don’t confuse people just because you’re desperate for connection after being ruthlessly friend zoned. He sighed, their fingers twitching nervously before finally typing back.
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827
Goodaftie too!! <3
His lips pressed together as he sent it, sharp teeth nibbling at the inside of his cheek. His golden eyes lingered on the empty screen hoping for the typing bubble. He counted his breaths one, two, three until, at last, the reply appeared.
🟦 ▌ (555) 731-9042
Let's see each other later at the Sunnywhirl Carnival on the east side of the town okay? :3 I'll be there waiting for you. I'm excited to meet you, you know!!
Chance froze. His fingers hovered above the keys but wouldn’t move. He felt a soft warmth bloomed in his chest causing him to lean back against the wall while staring up at the tall ceiling. It's been a really long time since he got himself a date. It wasn’t like he was lonely. Quite the opposite since he had people around and yet this felt different. Itrapped never asked to meet nor initiated beyond those little bursts of emojis. Chance’s rants would be met with stacks of random reactions.. comical in their lack of context… Sometimes it was just a stream of thumbs up 👍👍👍 followed by that silly little 🫶. They'd laugh and coo about how cute their man- they mean the man is.
He looked at the glowing screen again, heart thudding in his chest. His fingers finally moved.
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827 00:10
Okayy, I'll see ya the-
Chance stared at the text for a long moment their lips tugging into the faintest smile. That's too short and flat. It didn’t sound like him at all. He hesitated, thumb hovering then quickly typed another before his courage failed.
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827
I'm excited to meet ya too, I'll be looking forward to finally meeting you heh. ^∆^
The second text shot out and he instantly groaned, running both hands through his hair. “telamon above, heh? Really? That’s what I ended it with?” He buried his lips into his palm, muffling the sound of his own childish guggle.
_____
Chance blinked at the harsh colors of the carnival surrounding him in dizzying swirls of bright colors that would put his wardrobe in shame. For a moment, he honestly wanted to crawl into the ground and disappear because every turn of his head seemed to catch another stranger’s stare. Of course they were staring. Of course. Who the hell wore a black suit to a carnival? He must’ve looked like he’d just walked out of a funeral procession and decided to swing by the ferris wheel for a post-burial celebration.
Chance forced their lips into what they hoped was a friendly smile when a couple glanced his way and definitely whispered behind their hands. The smile kinda came out lopsided and he immediately regretted it. He tugged at his collar when he noticed that his phone stayed stubbornly silent in his pocket.. no messages. He couldn’t reach his date or find a glimpse of them in the sea of faces around him. What if they got stood up? His heart thudded painfully, sinking lower with each second he couldn't catch that definitely so familiar face.
Damn. His eyes dropped to the cracked pavement beneath his shoes. For a desperate moment, he considered leaving and pretending this had never happened but then the sight of a little kid and his parents having fun made chance sigh. “…Fine,” he muttered under his breath. “If I’m getting stood up, then whatever. Might as well amuse myself.” His reluctant steps felt heavy but they carried him toward a balloon stand on the corner. He hadn’t been to a carnival in… hell, longer than he could remember. His parents were always too busy for them and their nanny was often the one that looked after them.
He stopped at the booth. The balloon seller was a man in a faded cap with suspicion in his eyes, looking him up and down with his gaze lingering on the suit. Damn he's not that interesting actually. Chance cleared his throat, trying to sound casual though his voice cracked slightly. “Uh… can I get, um-” His eyes darted over the cluster of bright balloons until they landed on one, soft black with long ears flopping at the sides. It instantly reminded them of their long gone pet “…the bunny one.”
The seller’s brow furrowed so chance gave a weak, self-deprecating grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “What? Don’t judge. I like bunnies.” The seller said nothing but they tugged the bunny balloon free from the cluster and tied it off with a skilled hand. He offered it so chance took it gingerly, the string brushing against his fingers like silk. He let out a quiet laugh. Great. A grown man in a black suit holding a bunny balloon. Yeah, this totally doesn’t scream ‘pathetic’ at all.
“You like bunnies?”
The voice was sudden and so close enough to cut through the noise of the carnival. Chance screamed that earned him more strange glances from the people milling around. He whirled on his heels, clutching the bunny balloon in his arms until they saw them.
Soft blue eyes, lit up by the shifting carnival lights. It blinked back at him with a kind of sparkle that stole his breath away. For one dizzy, heart-pounding moment, Chance thought his knees might give out. Oh. Oh, they actually came. His chest tightened, warmth crawling fast into his face. His cheeks burned crimson as the stranger leaned closer and gently accepted the balloon from his stiff hands. “Oh” they said, smiling wide enough to crinkle the corners of their eyes. “It’s for me? Thank you!”
Chance coughed into his fist, his laugh tumbling out in an awkward and breathless sound. “Yeah. Uh. You’re welcome.” He couldn’t help it as his gaze flickered over them, drinking in the details . The resemblance to itrapped was truly uncanny and it was enough to make his heart stumble, but… there's differences such as them being more softer. Their features weren’t sharp edges at all. They wore a blue sweater that looked two sizes too big, sleeves hanging over their hands, paired with a pale green skirt that fluttered faintly in the breeze. They looked approachable unlike him who's wearing a goddamn suit.
Chance swallowed, tugging at his collar before forcing himself to speak. “Hi. I’m Chance.”
They gave a small nod, their smile shy. “Hello. I’m Noob.” Chance blinked, taken aback for a moment, before a slow smirk curled his lips. “Noob? That’s the name you’re going with?” Noob let out a huff of a laugh, shoulders rising and cheeks tinting pink. “Yeah, I know. It’s stupid.”
No it's not. “Not stupid.” Chance’s smirk softened that is closer to a grin. He tilted his head, watching how their eyes darted down shyly before flicking back to his. It was so goddamn adorable. “Kinda cute, actually.”
The flush on Noob’s cheeks deepened as Chance felt something loosen in his chest. They were nervous too. nervous in that same clumsy way he was. The realization settled over him. “Right, um…” Chance rubbed the back of his neck. His teasing voice came out softer than intended. “I like the name..” Noob shook their head quickly, embarrassed but smiling. Then, after a hesitant pause, they lifted a hand for him. It took Chance a beat too long to understand. Before he went oh. Right. Date. That’s… a thing you do on dates.
He blinked at the offered hand before slipping his own into it. Their palm was warm and a pang shot through him. itrapped’s hands are cold unlike noob. He almost faltered at the reminder and almost pulled away, but he forced himself to squeeze gently. Stop it. They're different. They're not the same. Focus on the date. He clung to the warmth to steady himself against it.
Chance, rocking on his heels glanced at the flashing ferris wheel lights, then back at them. “So… why’d you pick a carnival for our first date?”
Noob tilted their head back with their smile curved. “Because carnivals are fun. And…”their gaze flicked back to his, shy again “I thought it’d make you smile.”
Chance stared at them for a long beat, his chest giving one startled thump. He bit the inside of his cheek, fighting the grin tugging at him but failed miserably because he's starstruck indeed.
“…Yeah,” he said at last. “It’s working.”
“And I want to have fun.”
Was what followed after. The words tumbled out so simply yet they made Chance’s grin spread wider, his golden eyes lighting up. His chest rumbled with a short, amused huff before he stood taller. “You’re in luck then,” he said with a teasing smirk. “Because with me here, boredom is not on the menu. I came prepared” he tapped the side of his head knowingly, “a whole list of activities, just for us.” what? don't look at him. A gambler plans every move, then blames it all on luck.
They watched noob blinked, tilting their head slightly, caught off guard by his sudden enthusiasm. “Huh? A list?”
Chance leaned closer. He let the moment linger just long enough for curiosity to spark in Noob’s eyes before his tone softened.
“But first things first are you hungry?”
Before Noob could reply, Chance’s warm fingers tightened against theirs, testing the waters before sliding fully into a gentle hold. Noob yelped in surprise at the sudden tug, stumbling half a step but quickly finding themselves pulled along. Their cheeks flushed a faint pink, and their free hand fumbled awkwardly with the strap of their bag.
“Wait where are we going?” Noob managed to ask, their voice a pitch higher than usual. “To the real start of any good carnival adventure.” Chance declared, eyes flicking toward the rows of food stalls.
______
1. Sweet treats.
“So,” Noob began carefully, tearing off another piece of their funnel cake and licking powdered sugar from their thumb. The sweetness almost made their voice come out lighter than intended, but curiosity pushed through. “Tell me about you, Chance.”
The two of them sat side by side on a wooden bench tucked beneath a line of glowing string lights. Chance had insisted on ordering for them. vanilla topping for himself and chocolate for Noob. the balloon from earlier was now securely looped around Noob’s pinky finger,bobbing lazily in the evening breeze.
“Hm?” Chance paused mid-bite, blinking as though the question had caught him completely off guard. He chewed slowly, wiped his lips with a napkin and gave a small shrug. “Me?” he echoed, stalling for a moment before letting the truth tumble out. “I’m… a casino owner. Inherited the business from my pa and ma.”
Noob, who had just taken a mouthful of chocolate-dusted funnel cake, instantly choked.
“Whoa, hey-” Chance bolted upright, panic flashing across his golden eyes. He shoved his own water bottle into their hands, patting their back quickly “Don’t die on me, we just started having fun!”
Noob coughed into their sleeve, eyes watering before gulping down the water. When they finally managed to breathe again, they wheezed incredulously, “You’re a casino owner?”
Chance laughed, but it came out strained. Was it really that surprising. Normally he would be cocky when revealing that but for some reason he's suddenly shy at noob’s shocked expression. “Yeah… yeah, I am.” their gaze flicked downward with their shoulders stiffening. “I mean, it’s not shady or anything at least.. I just… inherited it. Family business.”
Inside, his thoughts spiraled further. Was that impressive or intimidating or worse was it a red flag? The last thing he wanted was for Noob to think he was the kind of guy who dealt cards with bad intentions. “Oh well, I’m, um…” Noob fumbled over their words, waving their free hand to swat the awkwardness away. The nervousness made Chance’s stomach twist even more.
“Uhh..”
Noob reached out, their fingers brushing his shoulder in a small, reassuring pat. It made chance flustered that noob saw his silent panic. “I work at Robloxia HQ. Just as a code checker, nothing glamorous.”
The breath Chance hadn’t realized he was holding slipped out in a laugh. His grin came back, softer this time. Really cool, actually.” He leaned in slightly, hid voice carrying genuine awe. “Working with the divine admins- Even as a code checker, that’s no small deal. That’s an honor.”
Noob ducked their head, embarrassed but secretly pleased at the praise. Chance found himself watching the way chocolate clung faintly to Noob’s lips. Snap out of it. Snap out of it. He looked closer. Goddamnit.
“Noob-” he started, They tilted their head at him questioningly, clearly not realizing what he meant.
Chance sighed, shaking his head fondly. “You’re a mess.” Before Noob could protest, he reached out and, without hesitation, swiped his jacket sleeve gently across their lip, brushing away the smudge. He watched with attention at the way noob’s eyes went wide, their face heating instantly. “Dude- your jacket! You’ll ruin it!”
“Can’t have you walking around like that, yeah? People might think I don’t take care of my date” heh that was smooth. Good job chance. He watched Noob blinked, stunned, then laughed sheepishly while they covered their mouth with one hand. “See?” Chance grinned, trying to play it off smoothly even as his heart knocked a little harder against his ribs. “I told you- you’re in luck with me around.”
“nmm..”
_____
2. Games
Chance’s grin widened as he approached the game stall. The stall owner, who is a burly man with tired eyes gave him a skeptical once-over. His thick arms folded over his chest. Oh chance thrived on this kind of stage. Behind him, Noob lingered with a curious tilt of their head. Their gaze darted between the oversized prizes swaying from the rafters and Chance’s confident posture. He knew that there was doubt and amusement in noob's light blue eyes but It only made Chance’s chest buzz with the need to impress.
He caught their eye, flashing a quick, reassuring look over his shoulder. Golden eyes glinted with mischief. “Watch me,” Chance said, carrying easily over the chatter of the midway.
Noob lips parted in surprise but they didn’t reply and only tightened their hold on the balloon string and watched as the stall owner dropped three darts into Chance’s palm with a grunt, muttering something about “good luck” under his breath. Chance rolled the first dart between his fingers, testing the weight, before his smirk grew wider. He stepped forward then moved quickly. One flick of his wrist and the first balloon popped with a sharp bang. The second followed instantly, and the third burst. Chance kept going. The stall owner’s brows shot up as dart after dart landed and the perpetrator wasn’t even trying hard. His smirk deepened. Yeah, look at them. He had made sure earlier to check his height to see if he's lucky and wouldn't ya know it. Lady luck loves him.
“Go Chance!!” His heart thumped faster when Noob leaned a little closer, their wide eyes reflecting awe and by the time the last dart struck, the stall looked utterly devastated which made them stifle a chuckle. He turned, his jacket sleeve brushing against his hip as he spread his arms slightly and bowed dramatically “And that,” he declared, his grin aimed right at Noob, “is how it’s done.”
Noob shook their head with a small laugh, lips curling upward. “You’re… ridiculous.”
“You're ridiculous!” Chance shot back, his voice cocky but his chest warm from the look on itrapped's face. The stall owner, still gaping, finally huffed and gestured toward the stuffed animals. “Go on, pick one.”
Chance glanced at the rows of plush toys, then turned back to Noob with a playful sparkle in his eyes.
“Don't ya worry, If you can't decide, I will win each one for you.”
_____
3. Ferris wheel
The ferris wheel creaked as it climbed higher with the carriage rocking softly under the weight of Chance, Noob, and the ten ridiculous little plushies wedged into every corner of the seat. The toys made the space cramped while the slow ascent gave them a view of the carnival below. Chance stole a glance at his companion. Noob’s eyelids drooped. Their head bobbing slightly with every sway
Chance smiled as he shifted closer and tilt his shoulder just enough to invite them.
“Sleepy?” he asked. Noob didn’t answer. They let out a small hum and leaned sideways, resting their weight against him. Their cheek pressed against the fabric of his jacket and Chance could feel the heat of their skin even through the layers. Together, they stared out at the carnival lights. Silence stretched between them. broken only by the occasional creak of the ferris wheel. Chance’s chest loosened, and he thought that he could get used to this.
“You… you look like someone I know.”
Chance blinked, caught off guard. His head snapped toward them, golden eyes widening. Wait. That’s my line.
He chuckled under his breath, rubbing his temple before dragging his fingers down along his jaw, pretending to mull over their words. “Really?” he echoed, amusement threading his tone. “That’s funny. I was just thinking the same thing.”
His gaze dropped almost involuntarily to their mouth. The way their lips twitched, trying to hide a nervous smile… it was achingly familiar. The same small, stubborn purse of lips that Itrapped used to have whenever Chance cornered him with something unexpected. The past and present blurred, making his chest tighten. Itrapped could be with him right now if it weren't for the fact that Itrapped would never look in his way.
The ferris wheel gave another mechanical groan, pulling him out of his misery. The carriage jolted slightly as it slowed, signaling the ride was almost done. Chance cleared his throat, breaking the heavy moment. “Come on,” he said softly. “The ride’s almost over.”
When the door finally slid open, Chance stood first, juggling half the plushies against his chest. With his free hand, he reached back, fingers brushing against Noob’s before curling around them in a steady grip. He helped them out carefully, making sure their steps were secure on the platform. “Do ya wanna see the fireworks?” Chance tilted his head toward the open night sky. The carnival lights dimmed against the stars above and already people were gathering in anticipation. But before he could add more, he felt a sudden tug at his hand. He turned, brows furrowing. “Huh? What’s-” Noob pulled him closer. The plushies nearly tumbled from his arms but Chance didn’t have time to care. His lips parted in surprise, only for the words to die on his tongue as Noob leaned in.
The kiss was so soft it left him unable to speak. heart pounding and the fireworks hadn’t even started. When Noob finally pulled back and their light blue eyes lingered on his.
“Take me home.”
____
The sharp trill of his ringtone shattered the quiet, causing chance to jolt awake, his muscles tensing before his mind even caught up. His hand fumbled across the sheets until his phone buzzed into his palm. He sat upright, dragging the blanket up over his bare chest. Beside him, Noob stirred, letting out a soft, muffled whine, their face pressing further into the pillow as though protesting the interruption. Chance couldn’t help a small huff of laughter at the sound. “Shh,” he whispered instinctively. He swiped across the glowing screen while squinting against the harsh light.
“Hello?” His voice was rough. There was a pause in the phone.
“Chance?”
Hid name cut sharper in that familiar voice than the ringtone ever could and chance flinched, breath catching as his weary eyes blinked awake in full. The number on the screen confirmed it.. ‘best bud’
He sat up straighter, lips pressing into a tight line Why now? he thought with his pulse quickening. For telamon's sake, It wasn’t like Itrapped to call. The guy barely texted complete sentences, preferring emojis and abbreviations, or better yet talking face-to-face. A phone call was… Unsettling.
“What’s up?” Chance asked carefully and the response he got was a sigh. “Why are you not in the casino?” Trap’s voice was calm but threaded with concern, maybe. “Are you not working? Luft told me you didn’t come in all day.”
Chance froze. His heart ached unexpectedly, his throat tightening around words he didn’t want to say. Of course Trap knew his schedule. He always knew. That fact had once comforted him since it was proof that he mattered enough to be noticed by his longtime crush. His gaze slid sideways. Noob’s lips were softly pursed in sleep, their chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Quickly, he forced his mouth into motion. “Uh-my parents are back. Visiting the town,” Chance lied, words tumbling out fast. “I gotta keep ‘em company, you know, Trap? Sorry, I didn’t tell ya.”
There was a pause. Chance could picture itrapped's frown. His mind conjured the image so vividly. Itrapped brow knit with his lips pressed in thought. that he winced against the mental picture. “It’s okay,” Trap said at last, but the words carried no warmth. “I suppose you’re going to be busy this week?”
Chance’s fingers dug into his own palm, scratching lightly. “Ye..yes…” he managed. For a heartbeat longer, all he heard was the other man breathing. Chance parted his lips but the line cut dead signaling that the call had ended. He stared at the dark screen. His thumb hovered uselessly over the glass before he let the device fall onto the mattress with a muted thump. The guilt didn’t fade at all.
When he finally glanced to the side again, Noob’s eyes were open and watching them. Chance opened their mouth, fumbling for explanation, but Noob moved first. They reached out, tugging them gently down. His body gave in without resistance, sinking into the warmth as Noob nestled close, cheek pressing against his bare chest.
“Let’s go back to sleep.” Noob murmured, Chance let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, threading his fingers absentmindedly through Noob’s short hair.
“Okay.
______
🟥 ▌ (555) 274-9031
How was the date?
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827
Elliot ..
🟥 ▌ (555) 274-9031
?
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827
We fucked.
🟥 ▌ (555) 274-9031
I don't need to know the details thanks. Anyway I'm assuming that it went well? Good, good^^ I'm happy.
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827
Man, they're so sweet and kind and holy builderman. Are they your favourite customer? You mentioned them being a regular right? What's their favourite pizza?
🟥 ▌ (555) 274-9031
Mm, one of my favorites ones along with Agnes and 366rUN^^
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827 00:06
Ohh lolz who's your not so favourite costumer.
🟥 ▌ (555) 274-9031
That trickster with the pink hat. Tsk tsk tsk.
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827
Who? Wait, noob is texting me rn. Let's chat later and tell me their favourite pizza flavor!!
🟥 ▌ (555) 274-9031
Okay chance^^ have fun and remember to take care of yourself. Also it's plain cheese. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF.
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827 00:06
Will do!!
_____
The doors of the casino swung open as chance strolled inside. The familiar sound of clattering chips and shuffling cards filled his earphone covered ears. A few dealers raised their brows in recognition while gamblers glanced up from their games and then did double takes. It made Chance grinned brightly, strutting past roulette tables as if he owned the place. Which, to be fair, he did. Still, the stares amused him. He could almost hear the gears turning in their heads. Yeah, yeah, they know. No suit. Try not to faint.
Instead of their usual flamboyant attire, those expensive, tailored suits they wore a crisp white shirt tucked loosely into plain black pants. It was kinda scandalous in this gilded den of arrogance and money. And his hair. Oh wow, Short now and Cropped neat. The dramatic, shoulder-length locks that once framed his golden eyes were gone. He ran his hand through it self-consciously, though his grin never faltered. Totally not because Noob said they liked short hair. Totally not.
From one of the high-roller tables came a snicker. Then another. Chance rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “Oi, Chancy,” one of them called, lifting his glass with a smirk. “You look homeless.” Chance’s smile twitched. Without missing a beat, he strode past, giving the man’s shoulder a light, friendly punch.. just a bit harder than necessary. “I’ll make you homeless soon,” he shot back, tongue poking out as he breezed on. The laughter that followed only fueled him. His destination was the long poker table near the front, the usual haunt of his so-called friends if you could call a pack of arrogant bastards who thrived on his generosity “friends.” They were lounging as always, cigars smoldering and cards half-forgotten in their hands. One of them looked up as Chance approached, then choked on the cigarette dangling from his lips. He coughed violently, earning jeers from the others.
“Holy fuck, Chance!” the man wheezed once he recovered. “Did someone rob you? Where the hell’s your expensive-ass suit? Don’t tell me you got mugged outside your own casino.”
Chance’s eye twitched again. He dropped into the empty chair at the head of the table and let out a long sigh. He covered his mouth with one hand, peering at them over his fingers with exaggerated seriousness. “Listen up,” he said, lowering his voice. “My date is coming in. And they want to meet you guys.”
The table went still. Then, as if on cue, every single one of them whistled. Chance groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “Not like that. Shut it. I may have lied to them. I said you guys were my friends.” He waved a dismissive hand. “And no, before you ask they’re not Trap.”
"Bullshit!” That earned another round of wolf-whistles and cackling. “Swear to god ” Chance started, but then raised his voice that cut through their mockery. “If you behave and if you play nice I’ll renew your VIP status in my casino. No strings attached.”
The entire table erupted in cheers. One guy practically leapt to his feet, slapping the table so hard the chips rattled.
“Whatever you say, boss!” someone crowed. Lucien, ever the loudest leaned forward with a mischievous glint in his eye, clapping his hands together. “Alright, alright, where’s the lucky person, eh? Who is it? C’mon, don’t leave us hanging.”
Chance let his head fall back with a groan, staring up at the chandelier overhead. His fingers drummed against the table restlessly. It had only been four days. Four days since Noob stumbled into his orbit. But damn, it felt like four years had passed and he couldn’t even remember what his days looked like before. Noob had been everywhere since. at his house, on walks, even just sitting around doing nothing. They laughed together. Talked. Sometimes didn’t need to talk at all. He hated to admit it, but he was attached fast.. bringing Noob here into their world just because they insisted was reckless. But Chance couldn’t stop himself.
“They'll be in here soon-”
“Chance?”
That soft voice had Chance on his feet in an instant. His grin spread wide when his eyes landed on Noob. “Hey, Noob you’re here.” He gestured to the empty seat beside him. Of course, one of the guys at the poker table leaned back with a smirk, unable to resist. “So Chance really does have a type, huh? Six-foot blondes?”
Chance’s golden eyes narrowed. He kicked the leg of the man’s chair so hard it squealed across the marble floor, nearly tipping him forward into his cards. The others roared with laughter while noob covered their mouth with one hand, giggling softly at the scene. They looked almost out of place here. They are dressed in a plain red shirt, a bandana tied loose at their neck and a pair of shorts. Compared to the sharp suits, they looked like someone who had wandered in from a summer festival and that’s what Chance loved most.
“You look good,” Chance said before he could stop himself. Noob blinked, heat rising faintly to their cheeks. “Oh, um thanks. You don’t look like yourself.” Their tone was teasing, but their eyes flicked over him nervously, unsure if the joke would land. Chance tugged at his plain white shirt with mock offense. “What? This doesn’t scream casino king to you?”
“Nope,” Noob said quickly, a shy smile tugging at their lips. “You look like you just rolled out of bed.”
The table erupted into chuckles as chance pressed a hand to his chest dramatically. “Cold. Ya hear that? I sacrificed my hair and cut it short because someone said they liked it and this is the thanks I get.”
Noob bit their lip, shoulders tensing. For a second, they seemed worried they’d said the wrong thing. But then they added, softer: “It does suit you though. Better than I expected.” Chance froze, then grinned like an idiot. “Careful. Keep saying things like that and these guys will riot out of jealousy.”
One of the gamblers flicked his cigarette into the ashtray. “Jealous already. They never blushes when we talk to him.”
That earned another round of laughter but this time Noob shifted in their seat, fidgeting with the edge of their bandana. Their gaze darted nervously between the men. “So, Noob,” Lucien piped up, leaning an elbow on the table. “You gamble?”
“No, not really,” Noob admitted quickly, voice small. Their fingers tapped against their thigh before they added, “chance is teaching me though.. I won one time with a claw machine.”
That answer made the whole table crack up. “Claw machines!” someone barked, slapping the table. “God, Chance, you brought home a saint, not a gambler.”
Noob flushed, ducking their head. “I I just like the plushies. Even if I don’t win.”
“That’s endearing,” another gambler said with a grin. “We could use more of that around here.”
Chance leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, smug. “They’re better company than all of you combined.” The table whistled and groaned at his jab, but the warmth in Noob’s shy smile lingered. As the laughter died down, one of the men suddenly stood, pushing his chair back with a scrape. “Alright. Enough sitting around. I’m getting another round of drinks.”
Chance watched him go, lips quirking. Noob shifted closer unconsciously, shoulder brushing his, and Chance caught the faint nervousness still clinging to them. He reached under the table and gave their hand a reassuring squeeze.
“So,” a gambler with the crooked smile asked, resting his chin in his hand, “how’d you end up here with Chance? Don’t tell me he sweet-talked you into it. He doesn’t look that persuasive.”
Noob’s lips twitched, a nervous half-smile that made their cheeks warm. They glanced at Chance, who only leaned back with that little grin of his “I, uh” Noob fiddled with their bandana, “we met through a friend. They're charming.” The table erupted in soft laughter. Chance chuckled too, tapping the cards in his hand.
“ain’t they persistent eh? I like that word better.”
Noob ducked their head slightly, but their voice carried more confidence the second time. “Yeah, persistent. That’s them.” Another gambler across the table raised his brow. “And you’re still here, so I guess he didn’t do too bad.”
Noob actually giggled, shoulders relaxing a fraction as they covered their mouth with their hand, embarrassed by the sound. “Guess not.”
Chance caught that laugh and tucked it away as a secret treasure. He didn’t interrupt, though he just leaned on his elbow and watched and let Noob’s nervous edges soften on their own. He watched the man beside Noob, shuffled his chips idly, grinned. “Well, anyone who puts up with him deserves a medal.”
Just before Chance could open his mouth, the gambler who had gone to fetch drinks reappeared. He wasn’t grinning. In fact, he hovered a step back from the table, balancing the tray in his hands, His eyes flicked to Chance with uneasiness. “Hey, uh…” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “…itrapped is here.”
The words hit in Chance’s stomach. His smile vanished, his golden eyes widening for the briefest second before draining of color altogether. Itrapped? No. That didn’t make sense. Itrapped never came in on Sundays. Sundays were his off-days. Chance knew that. He knew because he made it his business to know. His hands, resting lazily on the table moments ago, curled into fists on instinct. He felt the heat of every gambler’s gaze shift toward him.
“Chance?”
The familiar voice pulled his head up sharply. Itrapped was there. Itrapped stood near, shoulders squared and posture impeccable as always. His icy blue eyes locked on Chance first, then flickered to the side. To Noob. That glance was all it took for Chance’s throat to close as his palms went clammy under the table. He wanted to sink into the carpet and bury himself under the heavy soil. Hell- let the casino swallow him whole. Itrapped’s stare made him feel sixteen again that was caught red-handed by his parents. The glance sure wasn’t long but it was enough to make Chance’s skin crawl with the urge to throw himself between them. Shit, shit, shit. He felt noob stiffened beside him, their hand tightening in his, eyes darting quickly between Chance and the stranger who’d just spoken his name. They didn’t say anything, lips pressed tight..
Itrapped finally shifted his attention, turning fully toward Chance. “You’re here.” His voice was flat, devoid of warmth and of course he wasn’t alone. “His tall boyfriend” lingered just a step behind him, his arm draped with casual possession over Itrapped’s shoulder. Maff's red crimson eyes were just as cold but less curious, They landed on Noob with a thin, sharp curl of disdain at his mouth. It was a surprise that maff weren't wearing that fedora of his.
The table had gone silent and it was clear no one dared to speak.
Chance forced his lips into a somewhat grin, though it trembled faintly at the edges as it refused to settle on his face. ',Trap,” he managed. Just the name made his throat burn. He swallowed hard, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Didn’t expect you tonight.” The moment the words left his mouth, he saw Itrapped’s eyes, flicking downward. He had noticed while Chance hadn’t even realized it himself until then. his body was leaning subtly toward Noob,.
Itrapped’s have a scowl across his face in an instant. He turned that expression back onto Chance. “Ah, I see,” Itrapped said, his voice smooth but laced with ice. His chin lifted, his gaze sliding past Chance. “Who are they?”
Noob straightened instinctively. Their voice came soft, almost apologetic. “I’m Noob.” Itrapped blinked once. A slow, cold hum vibrated from his throat. With a flick of his eyes, two of the gamblers at the table scrambled up from their seats. They didn’t need to be told twice. They slipped away quickly, chairs scraping against the floor as they made space. Itrapped and Maff sat down, sliding neatly into the gap left behind. And now, just like that, Itrapped had positioned himself directly between Chance and Noob. Chance’s grin faltered “So, Chance,” Itrapped began again. His tone softened, He didn’t even glance at Noob. His focus fixed squarely where it had always been which is on Chance. His body leaned in, uncomfortably close and yes, Normally, Chance would’ve flushed at that proximity. unsure of what to do with his hands or his voice but goddamn, this is different.
“You cut your hair,” Itrapped murmured. His hand lifted and brushed against Chance’s cheek, thumb grazing the line of his jaw before drifting upward to toy with the shorter strands. “I like it…”
Chance flinched and his sharp laugh broke out, filling the silence.
“Haha right.” he said quickly. He reached for the nearest glass on the table and downed half of it in one swallow. The burn of alcohol tore through his throat, welcome only because it distracted from the cold that lingered on his skin where Itrapped’s fingers had been. Soon, The glass hit the table with a dull clink. Around them, the remaining gamblers shifted in their seats, these bastards suddenly invested in their cards, None dared interfere. They ignored him though he knew damn well they were listening to every word.
Itrapped's sharp eyes flicked from Chance, to Noob, then back again. “You’ve been busy, huh?”
Chance’s grip tightened around his glass. He lifted it for another sip. He set it down too quickly with the sound a little too loud on the table. “Yeah, uh… you know. Family stuff.” He gave a weak shrug, pretending at nonchalance but his pulse was hammering at the base of his throat. Chance flinched before he could stop himself. His eyes darted toward Noob, who sat awkwardly.They were doing their best to make themself small but in doing so only drew more of itrapped's attention.
“They’re, uh… a friend.” Chance said too quickly. He coughed, cleared his throat then tried again. “A good friend. Just… thought I’d show them around.” noob's eyes widened in shock and hurt. Chance tightened his grip on the glass. Itrapped leaned back slightly, his gaze finally sliding toward Noob with his lips curved. “Strange,” he said softly, tilting his head. “They look… familiar.” His eyes lingered on Noob’s mouth, their jawline and the shape of their nose. He hummed again, and the sound was far colder now. “Funny taste you’ve got, Chancy”
Ah fuck.
“You…” Trap let the thought hang, his scowl widening as he leaned in just enough for Chance to feel his cold breath. “You didn’t replace me, did you, Chance?”
Noob shot up from their seat so quickly that the chair legs screeched against the floor. “I I’m sorry,” they blurted, voice breaking slightly as they dipped their head in a quick bow, fumbling over the words. “I didn’t mean to I’m sorry-”
The gamblers looked up in mild surprise with some muttering, but Noob didn’t stay long enough to care. They were already moving away and Chance’s body reacted before his mind caught up. He pushed his own chair back, nearly knocking it over. The alcohol in his system sloshed, turning the room in a tilt. He wondered what the hell was even in the glass he’d downed earlier. His vision swam but he shook it off, jaw tight, and staggered forward. Noob was leaving and that was all that mattered.
He ignored itrapped’s piercing eyes on his back, jgnored the curious murmurs from the table and ignored everything but the faint retreating figure of Noob disappearing toward the doors. His pulse hammered in his ears as he stumbled after them until he pushed past the exit of the casino.
The night air hit him and there they were standing just a few feet away under the glow of a flickering streetlamp with arms wrapped around themselves “Noob-” Chance’s voice came out hoarse because he was afraid they’d bolt if he spoke too loud.
They turned their head. “Chance…”
The way they said his name wasn’t angry..not at all. It made Chance froze mid-step, the guilt pressing so heavy against his ribs he thought he might choke on it. He tried to meet their eyes, but the moment he caught a glimpse of that hurt look, he faltered and turned his head away. What the hell had they been thinking? Bringing them here and seating them at their table. He knew better. He’d always known better and still he did it. Why did he do it? Because he was “selfish” and because a part of him wanted to show them off? Does he just wants to say, look, look what I found. Someone who makes me feel seen?
“Come here.”
The words caught Chance off guard. His chest tightened and he didn’t hesitate this time. One step then another, and suddenly he was there folded into Noob’s embrace. The warmth of them pressed against him,. His unsure hands hovered for a second before clutching at the back of their shirt He let himself breathe and believed this was where he belonged.
until Noob’s voice trembled against his ear. “I think…” They pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “we’re better off just as friends.”
.
.
.
What can Chance do? He can only force a laugh because his throat couldn’t form any other sound. “Right.” he muttered, the word breaking halfway through. “Friends.”
______
Chance staggered back a step and truly felt pavement itself had tilted beneath him, He swallowed hard, desperate not to let the tears that burned his eyes spill. His chest still ached at the thought of Noob’s words. Well he had walked them home anyway. No matter how shattered he felt, he couldn’t stomach the thought of them leaving alone. He kept his steps steady until they were safe inside their building. Only then did he turn back into the night.
The streets blurred around him as he shoved his hands in his pockets and his stomach dropped. Shit. His wallet. It must’ve slipped when he chased after Noob earlier but nobody in this city, least of all in his casino, would leave a wallet lying on the ground out of the goodness of their hearts.
“Fuck,” Chance muttered, gritting his teeth as he pressed his hand against the bridge of his nose to stifle the sting there. His reflection glimmered faintly in a shopfront window. His short hair still felt foreign. It left his head lighter. He looked shorter. With a sharp inhale, he straightened his shoulders, wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and pushed back into the casino as the guards greeted him warmly, one of them giving a little two-finger salute. Dealers nodded while high-rollers tried to wave him over, but Chance walked past all of it. He had no energy left for their games.
Fuck, he hoped that Luft, the meticulous one of their workers, had probably spotted the wallet by now since no one is confident to steal the casino owner’s wallet. Maybe luft tossed it in his office for safekeeping. He’d thank them tomorrow,if he had the strength. His office door clicked shut behind him, muffling the buzz of the casino floor. He exhaled, dragging a hand through his cropped hair. He wasn’t used to the feeling yet. It was another change and another thing he couldn’t undo, his eyes drifted automatically to the desk. Relief stirred until it froze.
The wallet wasn’t there. His brows knitted. “What the-” He searched quickly, shoving aside papers, opening drawers, checking the chair, the floor but the wallet isn't anywhere. The ache in his chest deepened into dread.
“Can’t see this, darling?”
The teasing voice curled through the room as Chance spun so fast his chair tipped over and hit the floor with a dull thud. His heart slammed against his ribs as his eyes landed on the figure lounging casually against the doorway.
It was Maff with bis own missing wallet dangled from their fingertips, swinging lazily in a bait on a hook. Chance’s throat went dry. And fuck, telamon helped his drunkass, maff looked good. The dark, slick blonde hair catching the low light. A sharp jawline dusted with the faintest stubble and that infuriating smirk tugging at their lips. His shirt was open at the collar, exposing just enough skin to drag Chance’s gaze there before they snapped it away. The bastard even made holding a wallet look elegant.
“You-” Chance’s throat went dry, heat crawling up his neck before he could stop it. He hated the way his stomach flipped at the sight of them right now. Fuck he can't find itrapped's boyfriend attractive So he scowled instead, trying to cover the flush heating his face. “Give it.” he snapped.
“…”
“Give that back to me,” Chance barked again But instead of tossing the wallet, Maff stepped forward. One step. Then another until Chance instinctively stumbled back. His shoes clipped the edge of the rug and his shoulder hit the wall and so just like that, he was caged.
“Oi, what are ya doing?”
Maff loomed closer, the smirk still tugging at their lips and they hated that. They hated the way his eyes continued to betray him. It's trailing along the line of Maff’s throat where his shirt hung open, the faint tan of yellow skin and the curve of muscle exposed. Fuck. He quickly clenched his jaw to hide the heat rising in his face. No. No, no, no. Don’t you dare. This wasn’t just anyone. This was Itrapped’s boyfriend and the fucking murderer that shot some random mild exploiter but the harder he tried to ignore it, the worse it got. This night is unfair to them.
“What am I doing eh?” Maff tilted his head, dark hair falling into his eyes. His smirk deepened when he noticed Chance’s flush.
“Ya want this back so badly?” Maff drawled, lifting the wallet between two fingers, letting it dangle just out of reach. His mocking voice was low but silky enough to coil around Chance’s nerves. He then took out the photo from inside the wallet then casually leaned back. Chance went pale at the sight of itrapped's smiling face. It was a photo he had tucked in his wallet for keepsaking. It would have been fine if it weren't for the fact that Itrapped is shirtless in that photo.
“I said give that back!!”
Chance’s voice cracked halfway through his sentence. His face was flushed and it's not just from embarrassment since it's from the godforsaken growing heat that started in his chest and twisted down to his tightened gut. His trembling hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. Fuck! How did he get himself in this mess?! How maff had even found the wallet? Chance didn’t know but he knew one thing for sure. This fucking devil doesn't give a single shit because he's casually brushing his thumb mockingly over the photograph. Specifically to Itrapped's smiling face.
“That look on yer face,” maff chuckled lowly. Clearly reveling at chance's mortified face. “Like I just pissed on your grave. Are you really that attached, huh?” He tilted the picture to the light, examining it again. “Is this what you get off to, little red? Little snapshots of what’s mine?”
Chance’s mouth went dry. “Don’t touch it,” he managed through gritted teeth. “That’s mine. You have no right-”
“Me? Sick?” maff interrupted with a mocking tilt of his head. His grin widened. “Oh boy, you’re the one who’s twisted. Coveting my lover? You miserable dog.. tut tut.”
Chance's breath hitched at those words as he stepped forward. His breath was shallow and he truly felt like he might vomit from shame and fury tangled in his throat. “fuck you!” he snapped with his voice higher than he wanted it to be but what came next made chance absolutely paralyzed. He looked at him with eyes wide and breath hitched when maff suddenly leaned back further and leisurely unzipped his pants. Oh fuck this bastard.
“the fuck are ya?-”
The goddamn man slid the photograph into the waistband of his black briefs with a slow and definitely deliberate motion. His hand hovered over his lap for a moment before giving chance an audacious smirk. “Wanna play hero so bad?” maff purred, sitting on the couch, resting one arm behind his head and the other draped possessively low on his abdomen. “Then come and fetch it with your teeth, lil red.”
Chance’s breath hitched. The room swam once more with the alcohol weighing down his skull. Then it hit him. It was clear as a fist to the face. Maff’s into them.
That realization turned his stomach inside out. His vision sharpened with anger because how dare he? How dare Itrapped’s boyfriend sit there with that smirk.
“You-” Chance staggered forward, voice with rage. He pointed a trembling finger at him “You can’t do that! You can’t-” His words tangled up in his throat until finally he spat them out venomously. “You can’t do that to Trap! He deserves better than this. Better than you treating him like he’s nothing while you-while you-”
Chance’s voice faltered, breaking off into a furious, shaky laugh. His chest heaved. “You think I won’t tell him? I will. I’ll go straight to itrapped and tell him exactly what you just pulled. He deserves to know.”
Maff’s smirk never wavered. If anything, it grew sharper as he tilted his head. “Go on then,” he murmured smoothly, He tapped his fingers against his stomach, the photo still tucked beneath the waistband of his briefs. “But it’d be a shame, wouldn’t it, if dear itrapped got his hands on this little treasure first?”
Chance froze, every drop of blood draining from his face. Maff’s smirk widened as he tugged the waistband just enough to flash the edge of the photograph which is the glossy corner of a shirtless itrapped staring back. He chuckled. “Imagine it, eh? Trap, opening an envelope and finding his precious self caught bare like this. You’d break his poor heart before I ever got the chance to.”
Maff leaned closer. “Go on, Red. Play hero. Let’s see who bleeds first.”
“What do you want!?” Chance blurted out. He staggered a little, then forced himself straighter while glaring down at Maff “get on with it.”
Maff’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it spread. He didn’t argue and Instead, he just lifted a brow and gestured at his lap with the faintest curl of his finger. That seemingly simple motion was enough to send blood rushing to Chance’s face. He blushed so furiously that his ears burned. “Y-you-stop that,” Chance stammered, voice cracking, hating the heat crawling up his neck. God, what the hell is wrong with them? This is Itrapped’s boyfriend. This is disgusting. This is-
“Don’t go all quiet now, lil red,” Maff drawled, his accent smooth and dipped in mockery that made Chance’s skin prickle. “You were so ready to tell him, weren’t ya? Ready to march up to Itrapped and spill it all, hm? That his oh-so- boyfriend was misbehavin’.”
".."
Hearing chance's silence, maff continued on. "This isn’t blackmail, love,” Maff murmured, smirk curling softly. “No one’s holdin’ a knife to your throat. You’ve got a choice. All yours.” His eyes bored into Chance’s. “Come fetch it… or don’t. But the way you’re lookin’ at me seemed You’ve already decided.”
every instinct screamed at him to stop and to shove Maff’s smug face into the floor and spit at his feet. He hated himself for even lingering nor thinking about moving closer but fuck his mind is betraykng him. He remembered Itrapped dismissals, the sharp, cold words whenever Chance tried to lean in while laughing a little too warmly in hopes to bridge that distance between them. The repeated rejections burned across Chance’s chest so seeing itrapped's boyfriend of all people looking at Chance with the kind of focus he’d always craved from itrapped's. That fucking kind of focus Itrapped never gave him but gave all to this bastard. Maybe itrapped doesn’t care in the first place, Chance thought bitterly. Maybe he never will.
another thought wormed into Chance’s spinning head. If he can’t have Itrapped then maybe he can at least steal something close to him. That was why his knees bent. He dropped down hard, the carpet biting at his skin and his nails digging into Maff’s ankles. The man hissed at the sting, but the sound was approving. Chance ignored that. His lips brushed warm skin while the carpet scratched against his calloused palms. He felt his heart beat wildly in his throat. Shit shit shit! He didn’t look up at maff and forced himself to focus. He crawled forward until he was kneeling between maff's spread legs while the bastard reclined back. One gloved hand draped lazily across the back of the couch and the other resting near his hip. Clearly ready to guide, should Chance falter
“Teeth only,” maff whispered, taking amusement at chance's flustered expression “Let’s not sully the moment with hands.”
Chance swallowed the lump rising in his throat when the scent of maff drafted in his nose. An expensive cologne that Itrapped only used. Fuck this bastard. Chance's breath ghosted over maff's lower abdomen, and the bastard had the nerve to shiver.
Fuck this bastard- fuck this bastard!!!
They ignored him and parted their lips then lowered then head further as his teeth grazed the paper's edge. He felt it catch on the corner of his mouth. He bit it down but the photo stuck so he shifted again. His tongue pressed forward slightly and slid along the slick surface. The taste was faintly salty and the glossy paper was smooth against the warmth of his mouth.
“God, yer filthy.” maff exhaled.
"You’re nasty.” Chance spat out in response. His hand darted quicker than his thoughts, snatching the photograph from his lips. Then shoving it into his pocket . He leaned away fast then stood up. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand to scrub off the shame that clung to him yet The taste of heat and liquor clung stubbornly anyway.
But clearly Maff wasn’t about to let him go that easily. Before Chance could retreat a full step, a hand like iron clamped around his wrist and yanked. In a blur, Chance lost balance and fell forward with his thighs colliding with Maff’s. Suddenly he was straddling the man’s lap, pressed flush against him and staring down into that smug smirk.
“Ya don’t think we’re done, eh?”.
Chance’s scowl cut sharp across his flushed face. His chest heaved, his hands braced against Maff’s shoulders, ready to shove him away but Maff leaned in before he could decide and their mouths collided. The arrogance pressed against his lips. Shame roared back, flooding Chance’s chest and burning his ears red. He wanted to pull back But Maff bit down on his lip with a sharp snap of teeth, and the pain jolted him still.
“Shit-!” Chance yanked back with a hiss, glaring at him with wide, golden eyes.
Maff’s smirk only widened. His teeth caught the low light, a wolfish grin as he tipped his head back lazily. “You don’t know how to kiss?!?” Chance sneered, covering his embarrassment with venom, though his lips still tingled.
“I like to bite ’em red,” Maff drawled, unbothered with his gaze dipping deliberately to Chance’s swollen mouth before sliding back up with satisfaction. Chance hissed at that, trying to twist the kiss so that he could control, but Maff only pressed harder, dragging that soft ache deeper into his mouth causing a growl to crawled up in Chance’s throat, his pride aching worse than the bite. Chance wasn’t used to this because He usually preferred to be the domineering type. The redhead from two years back, he’d shoved her against the wall and swallowed her gasp with his mouth. The tall dealer he’d pin into his car, he’d gripped his chin and kissed him hard, pulling back only when he wanted to and watching the other man tremble. Hell, even noob. Chance had pushed them down into the sheets then leaned over them with a smirk. He had been the one to nip at their lips and marking them up until they begged for more. Clearly Maff knew that fact and wouldn’t let him have it.
Every time Chance angled forward, teeth flashing and ready to take it rough, Maff caught him. Bit him back then turned it around until Chance’s lips were sore and raw and he felt like the one being played.
“Hmph- hmphm!” Chance shoved against Maff’s chest, muffled noises spilling against his mouth while Maff’s smirk pressed against his lips again, coaxing to distract while his hands slid along Chance’s waist with a confidence that rattled the gambler. Chance sneered low in his throat, trying to shove back as Maff only shifted his weight and dragged him deeper into his lap. “Bloody hell, you’re tense." Maff snickered which made Chance sneered against his mouth, hot breath catching between them. He felt hand then slid upward, tugging at the hem of their shirt. Maff peeled the fabric upward and chance felt his knuckles crush their hot skin that is slicked faintly with sweat.
The shirt came off in one smooth pull and discarded carelessly across the floor. The cool air licked at Chance’s bare chest. He wanted to tell Maff to stop staring, but his voice caught when he saw the hungry gleam in those sharp, crimson eyes. “Beautiful.” Maff murmured. The Shame and heat tangled low in Chance’s gut. His hands twitched, then he desperately he reached up, fingers knotting in Maff’s hair and gripping hard.
“Ya like this don'tyou red?”
Chance's response was a yank on Maff’s hair but Maff only hissed through his teeth, smirking wider while his lips brush the corner of Chance’s mouth. “Careful, darling,” he purred. “Pull like that and I’ll start thinking you’re begging me.”
The fucking audacity. “You think I’m begging?” Chance hissed, lips curling into a sneer as he leaned in with their noses brushing. “If anyone’s going to end up on their knees, it’s you.”
Maff only huffed. He let his lips ghost along the corner of Chance’s mouth, the barest scrape of teeth before dragging lower. “Gladly,” Maff murmured against his skin, his breath hot as it fanned over Chance’s chest. With that, a wicked grin spread across his face, revealing a glimpse of straight, white teeth and without hesitation, the bastard’s lips found their mark then latched onto the smooth, taut flesh of Chance's pec. Maff suckled greedily, his tongue swirling around the hardening nipple and coaxing it to an almost painful stiffness making him cry out an angry curse. The bastard seemed transfixed and chance could honestly only watch when Maff's hands began to roam over his chest, groping and kneading the defined muscles. It was clear that the other man was thoroughly enamored with Chance's physique. Perhaps a little too much. Chance had, of course, spent some time working on his body at the gym. He had push through extra sets then adding weight whenever he could. It was because he had remembered distinctly that Itrapped had once mentioned a preference for men with a bit of muscle.
“Agh!” His thoughts were interrupted by his own guttural and feral growl when Maff's teeth suddenly clamped down on his hardened, sensitive nipple. The sharp, unexpected sensation sent a jolt of pained pleasure through his body, making him arch his back and clench his fists. a string of curses died on his lips when Maff began to bounce him roughly on his lap, using his hands to grind Chance's hips against his own. “Shh.” Maff silenced him quickly, rough fingers digging into chance's lean, muscular flesh hard enough to leave vivid purple bruises come morning. He guided Chance's movements, forcing them to grind against the rigid, cloth-covered bulge of his own arousal.
Just when Chance was about to tip over that edge of pleasure, the shift was so sudden it left him speechless. Maff had shoved him down against the couch cushions. The air punched out of Chance’s lungs with his muscles still twitching from the cut-off high. He blinked up at him then, sweat plastering strands of gray hair against his temple. His chest rose and fell too quickly, bare skin littered with fresh marks. He watched as maff leaned in close, his breath warm against Chance’s ear.
“Darlin’,” Maff whispered. “what position do you prefer?” That did it. Chance’s eyes narrowed, a spark of fury flaring where pleasure had been moments ago. Heat crawled up his neck. “You’re disgusting.” he snapped, twisting beneath him, trying to jerk free even as Maff’s grip tightened like iron. “I don’t prefer anything with you!”
Maff merely kept chuckling, the sound vibrating through his chest. he pinned Chance back down. “Careful there,” he purred again, his lips brushing the corner of Chance’s mouth to dare him to move and chance made sure to prove that by moving.
“You think I’d let you-?!”
“Not lettin’ me, sweetheart. Wantin’ me. That’s the difference.”
Maff brought his fingers to Chance's lips, tracing the soft, plump curve gently. he reluctantly parted his lips to allow Maff's fingers to slip inside and with hesitation, Chance began to suck, his tongue swirling around the digits, coating them liberally with his saliva. He shuddered in disgust when drool leaked from the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin. "Fuck, look at ya, darlin," Maff groaned, His other hand going back to its relentless assault on Chance's chest. This bastard busied himself with sucking and biting at the sensitive flesh once again while his hands gripped Chance's hips hard enough to yank him closer, crushing their bodies together once more. “haah.. ah..can you stop harassing my chest-”
Maff's reply is his hands sliding up Chance's sides, palming and squeezing the firm, muscular mounds just like what he did earlier. He tweaked and rolled Chance's nipples until chance nearly choked on his fingers. After what felt like eternity, Maff finally pulled back, lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “Ah,” Maff huffed in amusement. “So you do know what you want.” With a sharp tug, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Chance’s pants and pulled them down until fabric bunched at his thighs. Chance’s breath caught in his throat. Instinct made him shift back, but Maff’s strength gave him no room to retreat. “Up. ” Maff ordered smoothly. His hands pressed firmly against Chance’s hips, guiding him into a sitting position again.
Chance obeyed before his pride caught up, his chest heaving. He wanted to snarl. but the bastard didn’t give him the chance. One broad palm pressed flat against their sternum, urging them to arch back. His spine bent against the cushions until his torso bowed outward, leaving his bare, sweat-slicked chest from Maff’s face.
Maff buried himself there with no hesitation, his stubble brushing the underside of Chance’s bruised and wet chest. Maff's hand dipped lower, his fingertips grazing the top of Chance's ass, before slipping between causing chance to stifle a whimper. Thankfully, maff seemed intent on preparing Chance thoroughly, his fingers teasing and probing, tracing the tight ring of muscle insides while being the depraved tit fucker that he is. Chance could only clung tighter to Maff, his arms securing around the other man's head as they let the man do.. well…them.. let the man do them.
His fingers pushed harder, the tip of his index finger breaching the tight ring of muscle, Chance couldn't help but let out a choked moan, his back arching more pressing his chest harder against Maff's face. Fuck, be could feel every ridge and crease of Maff's finger as it slid deeper. brushed against a spot deep inside him that made stars explode behind his eyelids.
“Ackn- haah..”
“Look at you,” Maff murmured. “All flushed, pantin’ for me. Never thought I’d see you like this.” He withdrew, his fingers sliding free. The absence was worse than the shame itself. Chance’s body tensed immediately, air rushing from his lungs in a ragged gasp he hadn’t meant to make. Shit, he hated how loud it sounded in the room. He shook his head, trying to shake off the embarrassment. He could feel a single bead of saliva clung to the corner of his mouth before trailing down his chin. He lifted a hand, half-thinking to wipe it away, but froze when Maff’s eyes followed the movement.
Neither of them moved. They only stared at each other.
“like what you see, little red?” Maff smiled, His damp fingers trailed across his own thigh now to wipe off the evidence. In one smooth motion, he leaned forward, closing the scant space between them. His hand hooked into the back of Chance’s neck and before Chance could snarl another warning, their mouths crashed together. The kiss went on and on with Maff's tongue plundering Chance's mouth. Lost in the haze of the kiss, Chance was soon startled to feel something thick prodding at his entrance that was distinctly different from Maff's fingers. His eyes flew open, hazy and lust-drunk when he realized with a jolt of surprise that Maff must have silently undressed at some point.
Fuck him. With jaw clenched tight, Chance did the unthinkable. He let his arms fall and let his body sag forward as he allowed himself to sink into Maff’s hold. He watched Maff’s smirk curved wider, his arms locking around Chance in response. “There it is,” he purred in chance’s ear. “Knew you’d come ‘round eventually, darling.”
Amused crimson eyes met Chance's gaze, crinkling at the corners as another wicked grin spread across Maff's face. Chance now could feel the hard, hot length of Maff's cock pressing insistently against his stomach.
“What are ya waiting for!?”
Chance let out a sharp, strangled yelp when he felt the thick head of Maff's cock pushing insistently against his entrance, breaching him with a sudden, relentless thrust. It was his first time taking a man inside him, and fuck, the sensation was too much to bear.
"Ahhhnngh, oh fuck!" Chance gasped, his thighs trembling and shaking as he tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion. But Maff was undeterred. He set a pace that was not gentle but not brutal either. He thrust into Chance with a steady, almost punishing rhythm, his hips rocking forward and back and driving his thick cock deeper and harder with each pass. "Haahgh, mfmdfj..." Chance grunted and panted, his words coming out in a string of incoherent, garbled sounds. It was so embarrassing to his own ears that he just have to bite his lips shut. It proved to be a bad decision because Maff's hips began to move faster, his thrusts growing more urgent and forceful with each passing second. He gripped Chance's thighs tightly and Chance could only hold on for dear life, his back arching off the couch as he was jostled and bounced with the sheer force of Maff's thrusts.
"Fuck, feel so fucking good," Maff grunted, his voice a low, lust-rough growl. "Gonna... gonna fucking ruin ya, ya hear me?”
Chance could only moan in response, his cries of pleasure growing louder and more with each passing second. The couch creaked and groaned beneath them with the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as Maff pistoned his hips harder, faster. "Oh god, oh fuck!" Chance screamed, his voice breaking on a particularly hard thrust. "Harder, fuck, harder!" He couldn't believe the words spilling from his own lips but the pleasure was too intense.
Maff seemed to take Chance's cries as the encouragement they were, his grip on Chance's thighs tightening to the point of pain. He leaned forward, covering Chance's body with his own and pinning them down against the cushions as he went on to fuck into them with a brutal, punishing pace.
"Yes, fuck, take it, darlin’" Maff snarled, his teeth bared in a feral grin.
"Please, fuck, please..." Chance babbled, not even sure what he was begging for anymore. "Don't stop, fuck, don't you dare fucking stop..." Maff just laughed and it sent shivers down Chance's spine. "Wouldn't dream of it, sweetheart," he growled. Maff's pace grew more frenzied and more desperate as he lost himself in the tight heat of Chance's body. He gripped Chance's thighs tighter, his fingers sinking into the soft, pliant flesh. It was hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises. With each rough, demanding thrust, Maff pulled Chance's legs further apart and spread them wider. opening them up to take more.
“Haahgh!?” Chance stifled the sound that tore from his throat, a pitiful, strangled thing caught between a moan and a sob with His hands clawing helplessly at the couch cushions. He didn't even realized that they were switching positions often. One moment Chance was pinned beneath him, the man’s weight pressing down, The next, he was yanked upright, dragged onto Maff’s lap, his thighs burning from the strain of straddling him. Then back again, sprawled across the couch with his head tilted back and Maff’s mouth trailing fire down his throat. The constant shifting left him dizzy and disoriented.
Well fuck, This isn’t what tonight was supposed to be. He had walked into the casino with his chest puffed out, pretending to be fine and pretending Noob’s soft rejection hadn’t left him hollow inside. He just needed a drink. Just needed to pick up his missing damn wallet and sulk like he always did.
Instead he was here with him.
Sweat rolled down their temples, stinging tehir eyes, and Chance couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that choked in his throat. What the actual fuck. Noob just broke their heart. And now… now they're getting fucked by Itrapped’s boyfriend.
The thought alone was so absurd it made Chance’s fists pounded weakly against Maff’s shoulders in pure frustration at themself. He heard Maff's chuckle rumble low against his skin, “ya mad?” he murmured near chance’s ear while dach thrust made his body bounced with each powerful snap of Maff's hips. He was pushed further up the couch, his shoulders and head pressing into the cushions. One hand then slid up Chance's chest, palming the bruised nipple roughly. The other hand gripped the back of Chance's thigh, hiking his leg higher, opening him up further to Maff's brutal assault. Until soon, his thrusts grew much more erratic, his hips jerking and stuttering as he neared his peak. "Fuck, fuck..darlin... unh, fuck!" Maff grunted, his voice a low, strained rasp.
With a final, brutal thrust, Maff buried himself to the hilt inside Chance, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he found his release. Chance could feel the hot, thick spurts of Maff's genetic material inside which made chance cry out, his own body seizing and shaking as he tumbled over the edge into his own climax. His cock jerked and throbbed, quickly spilling his release onto his stomach and chest.
“Get off” he ordered hoarsely as he slumped against the couch. His chest rose and fell too fast. The shallow breaths make his throat burn. The Sweat slicked his bare skin, cooling too quickly in the air and leaving him shivering. His hands then instinctively drifted down, pressing against his thighs and that’s when he realized just how violently they were trembling. He squeezed them hard to stop the shaking but It didn’t work.
Click.
The sound of the door opening cut through the haze. Chance’s head jerked up, heart lurching into his throat. And when his eyes landed on the figure in the doorway, all the color drained from his face.
Itrapped is leaning casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed and his sharp blue eyes fixed unblinking on the scene before him. The way he stood there.. shit. He’d been there watching the whole time.
Chance’s stomach dropped. He scrambled upright, nearly tripping over himself in his rush to sit up straighter. The words tangled on his tongue. “itrapped? I didn’t I swear this isn’t I please, believe me, I didn’t mean” Tears burned down his cheeks before he even realized he was crying, hot tracks cutting through the sheen of sweat still clinging to his skin. Telamon, what the fuck have he done? He glanced beside him, seeing maff only leaning back into the couch and stretching lazily before plucking a cigarette from the pack on the table. His lips quirked as he lit it. He didn’t bother to cover himself.
The silence stretched until Itrapped finally moved. he pushed off from the door and walked toward them and chance's whole body wanted to shrink away. “I- Trap, please-” he tried again, voice breaking. “I didn’t- this isn’t me-”
But Itrapped only crouched down in front of him, tilting his head ever so slightly. His voice, when it came, wasn’t sharp. It was coaxing it left chance speechless
“Did Maff go hard on you, sweet Chance?”
The words sent a shiver down Chance’s spine, his heart hammering painfully against his ribs. His lips parted, but nothing came out. He couldn’t even form a denial. He just sat there trembling, staring into those unblinking eyes. Before he could find his voice or beg or collapse Itrapped leaned forward and kissed him.
His crush was kissing him. Chance’s mind screamed that this couldn’t be real. This damn scene was probably some cruel hallucination from the alcohol and from his grief. It felt made up and so fucking Impossible who would believe this?
But it wasn’t a dream.
Itrapped pressed closer, his hands bracing against the couch, boxing Chance in until there was nowhere to go. His knee pressed between Chance’s shaking legs while the other hand slipped to his own expensive belt. Fingers brushing the buckle. The sound of it jingling snapped Chance out of the daze like a bucket of ice water. What is itrapped planning? He shoved weakly at Itrapped’s chest, but it was like trying to push a stone wall. His body was shaking too much. His head pounded with leftover drink and leftover shame. And still, Itrapped coaxed him. His voice lowered into something unbearably gentle. “My may” Itrapped murmured, using the old nickname that made Chance’s throat burn. “Do you not want me anymore?”
He wanted him. He wanted him so bad it was pathetic. Every nerve in Chance’s body screamed that this was so wrong and confusing but none of it mattered when Itrapped’s mouth brushed over his, when that low, coaxing voice bled into his ears like poison. Chance trembled under his gaze, every bit of disheveled, messy, and undone. Sweat still clung to his skin from before, his hair stuck damply against his temple, his lips swollen and red. And Itrapped was looking at him. Chance felt utterly bare. He flushed dark, burning with embarrassment that his crush, his fucking crush was seeing him like this. “Don’t hide from me,” Itrapped murmured, thumb brushing Chance’s jaw, tilting his face up. “You’re beautiful like this.” His chest tightened and his throat burned but still, when Itrapped coaxed him lower and guided him, Chance let himself move. His knees pressed against the couch cushions. The world tilted And then he was turned, his cheek brushing the fabric, his body bent forward. His heart pounded so loud he thought it might split his ribs.
"Look at you, darlin’…” Itrapped’s palm heavy against Chance’s spine as he loomed over him, keeping him pinned against the couch cushions while checking the state of his thighs. “My Maff really did go harsh, hm?”
Chance’s body jerked at the words, heat searing his face. Unable to decide if he wanted to deny it or beg. A sharp laugh broke the thick air. Maff, sprawled lazily on the other end of the couch with a cigarette between his fingers, tilted his head back and barked out his amusement. “Harsh?” he echoed, grinning wolfishly while blowing smoke to the side. “Don’t give me too much credit, love. I was kind.”
Itrapped chuckled low in his throat when he saw Chance's gritted jaw. He brush Chance’s damp hair back from his face, thumb lingering on the edge of his jaw. “Easy there. Don’t pout. Ignore him.” he crooned, his tone patronizingly soft, "You're still beautiful like this. Even when you’re ruined.”
That word ‘ruined’ made Chance’s stomach plummet. His fingers trembled, hearing itrapped unzipped his own pants and soon they felt his cock, already hard slipping between his thighs. Itrapped’s hands gripped his hips, pulling him back slightly as he began to rock forward, his length sliding along chance's plush thighs. Itrapped soon caught the flicker in Chance’s eyes at how they were starting to lose focus, lashes wet and trembling with their chest rising and falling. His body jerked with every shift, thighs trembling because what they were enduring.
“Shh…” Itrapped murmured, his lips brushing Chance’s temple before trailing lower, catching Chance’s mouth in a kiss that was softer. “Don’t drift from me, my may. Stay here.”
Chance whimpered against the kiss, shame clawing up his throat, but then a sharp thrust between his trembling thighs sent his body arching forward against the cushions yet Itrapped only coaxed him further, his voice low as his body pressed flush against Chance’s back. “That’s it, chance, feel me. You’re not lost you’re right here with me.”
“Trap-” Itrapped ignored him, keeping his lips against Chance’s and swallowing every ragged breath and every muffled cry as he pushed deeper until Chance’s body shook violently with each movement. The head of itrapped's cock would peek out from the top, only to be swallowed up again as he thrust back down, the thick vein on the underside of his shaft rubbing against Chance's sensitive wet thighs.
With a one last thrust, Itrapped buries himself to the hilt inside Chance thighs making the gambler feel the cold spurts of Itrapped seed painting his shaky thighs
“Do you love me, Chance? Am I much better?”
trapped whispered, voice rough as it brush against the curve of Chance’s ear while he helped him sink onto the couch. The cushions swallowed Chance’s trembling frame again, His lashes fluttered as his eyelids grew heavy. He wanted to sleep desperately but Itrapped didn’t let him drift off just yet. One careful hand tugged at Chance’s hand. “Do you love me? My may?” Chance’s chest tightened. He wanted so desperately to answer but when he looked up, he saw Itrapped’s expression had darkened slightly so he didn’t speak.
Itrapped’s fingers lingered on his hand for a moment longer, then slowly relaxed. Chance felt the cold fade, and the quiet pressed in around him. Unable to reconcile the storm of guilt and shame swirling inside him, Chance’s body finally gave out. His eyes slipped shut, and he drifted off
Do you love me, my may?
_____
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827
Elliot have you seen noob? I haven't seen them ever since last month.
🟥 ▌ (555) 274-9031
Haven't you heard? They're missing. They supposedly disappeared in their home, chance.
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827
Oh
🟥 ▌ (555) 274-9031
Take care okay? ^^ there's a lot of missing reports here lately and the mods are trying to figure out the cause.
🟨 ▌ (555) 019-4827 00:06
Don't worry, I will!! Take care too, Elliot.
.
.
.
Chance’s hands trembled as he stared down at the message blinking on his phone. “I-” he began, but his voice caught in his throat. Missing? However he was interrupted when Itrapped’s strong hands closed gently around his shoulders, holding him still and grounding him.
“are you listening to me?” Itrapped murmured, voice low and steady while brushing a loose strand of damp hair behind Chance’s ear. “Who are you texting?” Chance’s chest heaved, hot tears brimming as he struggled to meet those eyes. He sank onto Itrapped’s lap without thinking, letting the firm weight of him anchor his trembling body. Their other partner, maff had left, leaving them alone in the quiet aftermath. days had passed since the three of them had started dating and It felt strange. Sometimes Chance thought what he had was enough, yet at other moments, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Maff or Sonnelino, if he was being precise treated him with the utmost respect while Itrapped remained the same kind presence he had always been.
“Sorry what was that about?” Chance asked with a light forced smirk as itrapped kissed his neck.
"I said, do you want to play a game of Russian roulette with my acquaintances?”
Notes:
If this gets 700 kudos I might post chapter 3 where the trio is forsaken. Freakysaken
she lick on it til im loaded. If it weren't for the goons I wouldn't be in this purgatory hell. Don't give me that damn look. I work my ass off to pay for this goddamn apartment. Do you know how difficult your upkeep is? You're like the queen from bloody beauty and the beast, except you don't change into a beautiful princess at the end of the day. XT4ry never escaping the gooner title allegations. My addiction to playing games almost won. But the gooning will guided me in these dark times. one line of me being mentioned thx. Said the pro oh so great mox who is the reason this chapter exists. I failed to let freakness possess me, I failed at that. Don't be a beta that goons to clankers, goon ethically to man made fics. im here for a goon time not a long time. The gooners won against angst-ers, by a mile aswell. Always a gonner before a quitter. what time is it? its GOONING TIME !!what time is it? its GOONING TIME !!what time is it? its GOONING TIME !!what time is it? its GOONING TIME !!what time is it? its GOONING TIME !!what time is it? its GOONING TIME !!
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