Chapter 2: Chaotic (II)

Third POV

"We meet again... what was your name again? Fabio?"

Marco crossed his arms, eyes locked on Fabio’s face without a flicker of hesitation. If Ethan, the guy whose name he had caught, was gorgeous, then this man in front of him was a full-blown Greek god carved to tempt mortals. Ethan gave off a dangerous vibe wrapped in sugar, tempting in a sweet way. But Fabio? Fabio looked like pure fucking trouble. Temptation itself.

Those smoldering eyes could catch you in their net and burn you alive. And those lips, Christ, lips that dared you closer, lips that promised you’d regret not tasting them. His vibe wasn’t angelic–it was the kind of vibe that fit the devil in a tailored suit. Marco’s gaze drifted down to Fabio’s hands. Hands that looked like they could make a man promise to beg for more.

He craved Ethan, sure. But Fabio? He was obsessed with Fabio. Not in a romantic, soft-focus way. No, this was the dirty kind of obsession, the one rooted in lust. The kind you knew damn well wouldn’t be satisfied with a glance across a room.

Fabio, on the other hand, glared at Marco, wondering why the hell this guy was grinning at him like that. Every part of him was infuriating. That smile in particular made Fabio’s blood boil. He couldn’t take standing there another second, couldn’t stomach the smug look on Marco’s face.

So, shifting half his body toward his friend, he snapped, "Ethan, let’s go."

Ethan looked between the two of them knowingly. "You two... know each other?"

"No." Fabio’s reply came fast.

Marco chuckled at the abrupt refusal, shaking his head. "That’s cold, Love. We literally just met–what? An hour ago? Or have you already forgotten?" He raised his hands like he was gripping a bike throttle and made the sound: "Vroooom!" His grin stretched wickedly. "I defeated you on the track, remember?"

Fabio’s face darkened instantly. His jaw clenched so tight a vein pulsed down his forehead. His hand was twitching like he was one breath away from smashing it straight into Marco’s smirk.

Behind them, Ethan’s lips quirked in amusement. "So this is him? The guy you were talking about?"

Fabio didn’t answer, but his silence screamed yes.

"Oh?" Marco drawled, his grin widening. "Were you talking about me?"

That snapped Fabio’s last thread of restraint. He stepped forward, his eyes blazing invisible flames, warning clear in every inch of him. He was already pissed from losing earlier, but this cocky bastard acted like they were friends, and now he was pushing it by flirting? Fabio was seconds from violence.

But Marco only smiled wider, sweet danger meeting cold danger, the air thickening with heat neither of them was willing to back down from.

And then Marco tipped the balance. Boldly, he leaned in fast and pressed a kiss against Fabio’s temple, chuckling as he pulled back.

Fabio went crimson with fury. He jerked his arm back, ready to strike, but Marco moved quicker. He caught Fabio’s wrist, spun him effortlessly, and exchanged their standing positions.

Close to his face, Marco murmured, "I like your type..." He paused deliberately, letting tension hang heavy between them, before leaning near Fabio’s ear. His voice dropped, dripping with a taunt. "...the kind I get to tame."

Fabio’s breath came hot and harsh, a snarl twisting his lips. He lashed out with a kick, but Marco slipped away smooth as a devil recruiting a fresh soul.

Lastly, Marco shot a playful smirk over Fabio’s shoulder and adressed Ethan.

"Find me later," he said with a wink before walking off, satisfied.

Fabio stood there, his chest burning with the need for revenge. "Asshole!" he spat.

Ethan, however, was staring down the hall with parted lips, caught between awe and desire. "Yes... his asshole," he muttered, dazed. "Bet it’d be fucking good."

Fabio spun around, disbelief flashing in his eyes at his so-called best friend. "That man just made me lose thousands of dollars, and you want to fuck him? Some friend you are."

Ethan shrugged, biting his lip, completely unrepentant. He placed a hand on Fabio’s shoulder. "Hey, man–it was just a race. You and I both know it’s not about the money. You’re pissed because you lost which was a first time." Ethan smiled knowingly, glancing back down the hallway. "And admit it, he’s fucking hot. Irresistible. Daring. Exactly the type we both like. If you hadn’t barged in, I’d probably be bending him over that sink by now."

"He doesn’t look like the type to bend," Fabio muttered before cursing himself silently for the slip.

"Oh?" Ethan teased. "So you admit he’s charming and irresistible?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Fabio roared, his face flushed. "What’s so charming about him? He’s an arrogant bastard, full of himself. I don’t want to see you with him. Otherwise, we’re done being friends." ℯℯ𝑙.

With that, Fabio stormed off, muttering curses. "That asshole... targeting my friend, huh? I’ll make you regret."

He walked back to the center of the club. The place had two floors: the upper for those who needed privacy and rooms, the lower for wild animals like Marco who thrived in noise and chaos.

Just as Fabio was halfway up the stairs, chants roared from the lower floor.

"Marco! Marco! Marco!" Cheers and jeers followed.

Fabio stopped, his gaze snapping down. As he had guessed, it was the same Marco again, of course. The bastard who never wasted a chance to rile him up since they me earlier that night.

Now, surrounded by a circle of admirers, Marco was downing glass after glass of liquor, laughing like the world belonged to him.

Unconsciously, Fabio gripped the railing with both hands, his eyes locked on Marco. From above, he studied him, unwillingly captivated. If not for the feud between them, he might’ve admitted the truth. That Marco was desperately and maddeningly hot. He was good. More than good.

Fabio frowned at the thought and snapped himself back. He sighed about to leave but he spotted Ethan who was making his way toward Marco’s group. Then Marco’s last words ti Ethan played in Fabio’s head: Find me later...

"I’ll kill you today, Ethan!" Fabio muttered under his breath, anger rising hot.

He pushed through the crowd, trying to reach Ethan before he got there, but the crush of bodies slowed him. Ethan slipped through and reached Marco’s table first.

At the table, Marco smirked the second he saw him. "That was fast," he said, sliding space open.

Ethan grinned, replying, "Couldn’t wait to see you again."

The guys at the table whooped. Tony whistled. "You’re bad, Chen. When the fuck did you charm a hottie like this? I want one too." He looked Ethan up and down, already half gone.

"Just close your eyes and dream. You’ll see him there," James snorted.

"Who says I can’t? Woah... Wait a minute! Someone better hold me now!" Tony exclaimed as his eyes caught something behind Ethan. "I think I’m dreaming already. Is that freaking hot guy looking at me? Oh shit! He’s coming here."

Everyone turned toward the direction. All their expressions shifted to mirror Tony’s. The only ones who didn’t gape were Marco, who raised a brow with interest, and Ethan, who looked stunned if not shocked.

Fabio had arrived. He slipped in between Tony and James, a smile cutting across his lips. He greeted the guys smoothly, but pointedly ignored Marco and Ethan. "Hello, mind if I join the fun?"

Tony nearly fainted on the spot, but managed to stay upright long enough to hand Fabio a shot. They clinked glasses and tossed them back. "Name’s Tony."

Fabio’s smile widened with a glint in his eye. "You can call me..." He paused, leaning close enough Tony could feel the heat of his breath. "...Fabio."

Tony swayed, dizzy, but Fabio’s arm wrapped around his waist and steadied him. "Careful, you might hurt yourself," Fabio murmured.

Tony gulped, face red and hot as hell fire. Tony too was a flirt by nature, but faced with Fabio openly turning the heat on him, his legs went jelly. Who the hell wouldn’t?

"Thank you... Fabio," Tony whispered with a low and shaky voice.

"Leave the poor boy alone, Fabio," Ethan cut in, laughing.

Fabio didn’t even glance at him. "He doesn’t look like he wants to be left alone. Do you, Tony?"

Tony froze, trapped in Fabio’s gaze. Like hypnotized, he whispered, "Whatever you want, Fabio. I’m yours tonight and... forever."

James groaned. "Fuck’s sake, he’s drunk again. I wanna go home, Marco." He already knew he would be the one stuck babysitting Tony later, and it was not easy task.

"I don’t mind taking care of him tonight," Fabio said his eyes sliding toward James.

Tipsy James grinned, bowing slightly. "Then I’ll leave him to you."

He turned to walk off, but Marco’s voice cut off his happiness.

"James."

James shut his eyes, face twisting with dread before turning back. "No, Marco. Not tonight."

"Take him," Marco ordered anyway with a serious gaze, though his lips were still curved up.

James pouted, lips pushing out in defeat. "Fine. But if I die, my death’s on you." He sighed at Fabio. "Some other time, man."

Fabio just smiled, steadying Tony, who was now lost in some drunken fantasy.

Wrapping an arm firmly around him, James led him off.

Meanwhile, Marco glanced at the remaining guys. "Next time." They nodded and trickled away, leaving only Marco, Ethan, and Fabio.

Marco’s grin twisted, not amused this time, but somehow dangerous. Without a word, he grabbed Fabio by the collar and dragged him off, leaving Ethan standing there stunned.