Evanstan mafia au soon? Please I'm dying over here
HERE IS ANOTHER SNEAK PEEK ANON
Chris has started teaching Sebastian English. He knows a little already, watches lots of TV in the big room Chris has set up for him, and Chris knows enough Romanian for them to be able to communicate more or less effectively. But he’s seen how Sebastian seems to shrink in on himself whenever he happens to run into one of the many men Chris has meetings with in the house. And how they ask him questions and he can barely answer without sounding like an illiterate fuck.
He knows that everyone thinks Sebastian is a new kept boy. Which, it’s not like Chris would say no to that, but that’s not what Sebastian is. Sebastian is whip smart and dangerous and filled with this crackling sort of intensity that Chris has decided he loves. And, Sebastian is starting to trust him. (Probably cemented by the fact that Chris bought him a set of daggers after his trip to Istanbul to take care of some business. The boy’s face had lit up so sweetly and he’s seen him walk around casually spinning one of the knives in his hand.)
So, now Chris wants to teach him English. Wants to help him hide his accent, so people take him more seriously. He still hasn’t said yes to the proposal, to becoming part of Chris’ team, his personal bodyguard, but he’s seen the airy distaste when Seb looks at his bodyguard now–a huge, hulk of a man with beady eyes–and knows he’s thinking that he can do better. And he probably can. Chris has watched Seb in the gym a few times, seen the fluid grace of a panther when he moves and strikes, the quick flash of a cheetah whenever he runs–Chris really likes what he sees.
And it leads to this, a casual dinner where they’re both sitting on the couch in front of the TV, Seb in his customary sweatpants and black t-shirt, Chris in similar attire. It’s nice, being able to dress down every once in awhile and not be judged for it. He thinks Sebastian appreciates that too, the trust he shows there.
“So, you want to teach me English better?” he says, that voice thick with that rough, curt accent. He eyes him appraisingly, wiping his mouth stained with red spaghetti sauce. Chris nods, sucking a noodle into his mouth. He makes a little sound and dips his head. “No accent?"
"Only if you want. A lot of people think you’re stupid because of it. It bothers me,” he says lightly, flashing Sebastian a little grin. Sebastian is like a cheetah, he muses, all long-legged coltishness and wary eyes, sharp teeth like a predator.
“And if I want to be…” He looks like he’s struggling with finding the word, face creased in thought. “Subestimat…Underestimated?”
Chris chuckles, appreciative of that flash of intelligence. “You’re always gonna be underestimated. You’re small and you’ve got an innocent sort of face. Doesn’t mean they have to think you’re stupid, too.”
Sebastian grunts and takes another aggressive bite of pasta, chewing it slowly as he thinks. He stares at the TV without really watching it, letting the sharp sound of the clang of swords fill the air. “Da," he says finally, glancing at Chris through under a sweep of dark lashes. "Yes. I’d like that.”