Chapter 28: Rock, paper, scissors

Third POV

Fabio pulled Marco out through the side doors and into the cool night air, leaving Ethan’s muffled shouting behind them. They made it to Fabio’s car without anyone catching up. Fabio unlocked the doors, they both climbed in, and within seconds, he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot at full speed.

As soon as they merged onto the main road, Marco broke the silence. He started to laugh. It began as a low rumble in his chest before turning into a full, breathless laugh that filled the quiet space inside the car.

Fabio kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight. He shot Marco a sharp, annoyed glance. "What is so funny?"

Marco pressed a hand against his face, his shoulders shaking as he tried to catch his breath. "You," he managed to choke out. "You, absolutely."

Fabio frowned, turning his attention back to the road. "I didn’t do anything."

"That is exactly why it was so funny!" Marco wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and turned sideways in his seat to face Fabio properly. "You were sitting on that couch looking like the coolest, most unbothered guy in the world. Shrugging your shoulders, taking slow sips of your drink, acting like nothing on earth could touch you. And then Tony opened his mouth."

Fabio’s jaw tightened. "Shut up, Marco."

"No, I mean it!" Marco’s laugh erupted again. "The moment Tony asked who bottoms, you almost choked to death on your own drink! Your eyes were watering! I genuinely thought I was going to have to pat your back until you passed out right there in front of everyone!"

"It wasn’t funny," Fabio snapped, though there was no real anger in his voice. "I was in the middle of swallowing. The idiot caught me completely off guard. Who even asks something like that?"

"Tony does," Marco said, grinning from ear to ear. "And it was hilarious. Mr. Unflappable Fabio, brought down by a single question about his sex life. If Tony knew how close he came to killing you, he’d brag about it for the rest of his life."

"I said shut up," Fabio repeated, glancing at Marco again.

"You can’t even defend yourself because you know I’m right," Marco shot back smoothly. "You were terrified."

"I wasn’t terrified of anything," Fabio scoffed. "I just didn’t want to hear Tony interrogate us for the next three hours. And for the record, you didn’t look so brave either. You looked like you were ready to jump out the window."

"I was trying to keep us from getting cornered!" Marco insisted, still chuckling. "You should be thanking me. I rubbed your back so you wouldn’t suffocate."

Fabio looked over at Marco. He tried to hold onto his stern expression, but a small twitch appeared at the corner of his lips. He let out a long breath and shook his head softly. "You’re unbelievable."

"I’m a lifesaver," Marco corrected.

Fabio finally gave up. A small smile broke across his face, and he let out a short, genuine laugh. "Fine. It was ridiculously funny."

"See? I told you it was funny," Marco said, satisfied. The two of them shared a laugh, the adrenaline from their sudden escape finally settling down into something relaxed and easy.

They drove in silence for a while after that, leaving the venue far behind as they entered the city.

Fabio slowed down slightly as they approached a major intersection. "So," he spoke up, breaking the quiet. "Where are we actually going?"

Marco blinked, realizing he hadn’t thought about a destination at all. His only goal had been getting away from Tony, Ethan, and James. He leaned back against the headrest and fell into deep thought for a moment, weighing their options.

"My place," Marco suggested after a few seconds.

Fabio turned his head briefly to look at him. "Your place? What about your little brother? Didn’t you tell me he lives with you?"

"He isn’t home tonight," Marco explained smoothly.

Fabio didn’t raise any objections. He flipped his turn signal and navigated the car toward Marco’s neighborhood.

Another stretch of silence filled the car as they drove down the quieter residential streets leading to Marco’s apartment building.

Just as Fabio turned down the final street toward Marco’s building, Marco sat up straight.

"Wait," Marco said suddenly. "There’s a problem."

Fabio immediately hit the brakes, bringing the car to a smooth stop along the curb. He turned to Marco with a confused look. "What problem?"

Marco turned his upper body to face Fabio directly. "Who’s going to be on top? There’s no race tonight."

Fabio slowly nodded as the point landed. "You’re right."

A heavy quiet descended upon the car. Fabio stayed parked at the side of the street, both of them staring into the dark interior as they tried to think of a way out of the stalemate.

After a full minute of silent contemplation, Marco broke the quiet with a slight sigh.

"Let’s just head inside first," Marco said, pointing toward his building up ahead. "We can decide what to play once we’re inside."

Fabio agreed with a short nod, shifted the car back into drive, and pulled away from the curb.

In less than two minutes, they pulled into the driveway and parked inside the garage.

They stepped out of the car. Marco unlocked the door leading into the house and stepped inside first, with Fabio right behind him. The house was pitch black and dead quiet. Marco reached for the switch on the wall, turning on the lights and illuminating the living room.

The house was nowhere near as sprawling or grand as Fabio’s private villa, but it was neat, comfortable, and warm. The sofa sat in the middle of the living room, positioned in front of a low coffee table and a television mounted on the wall. A few simple decorations lined the shelves, giving the space a lived-in feel.

Fabio walked over to the living room without ceremony and sat down on the sofa, leaning his back against the cushions and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

Marco walked past the couch, heading straight toward the small kitchen area that joined the living room.

"What do you want to drink?" Marco called out over his shoulder as he opened a cabinet door.

"Anything is fine," Fabio replied from the couch, resting his arms along the back cushions.

A moment later, Marco walked back into the living room carrying a glass bottle of vodka and two short tumblers. He walked over to the coffee table, set the bottle and glasses down with a soft click, and sat down on the sofa right beside Fabio.

He uncapped the bottle, poured a portion into both glasses, and handed one to Fabio before taking his own.

Without saying a word, both men took a sip. Marco picked up the television remote from the table and switched the TV on, leaving the volume low so it filled the room with soft background noise.

For a while, they sat side by side in peaceful silence, slowly drinking while the faint hum of the television echoed around them. The lingering adrenaline from the party was completely gone now, replaced by a focused, electric quiet between them.

Fabio was the one to break the silence. He turned his head sideways to look at Marco.

"Have you thought of any game yet?" Fabio asked.

Marco nodded slowly. He adjusted his position on the couch, turning half his body so he was looking directly at Fabio.

"I do have something in mind," Marco admitted, a slight beat of hesitation in his tone. "Though... it’s kinda cheesy."

Fabio turned his entire body to face Marco, his interest clearly piqued. "What is it?"

Instead of answering immediately, Marco lifted his glass to his lips and finished the rest of his vodka in one clean gulp. He set the empty glass back on the coffee table.

Then, he raised his right hand between them and held it out in a tight fist.

Fabio looked down at Marco’s fist for a second before the realization registered. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and an amused smirk spread across his face.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Fabio asked, raising an eyebrow.

Marco nodded, completely unbothered by how ridiculous it sounded. "Three rounds. Winner tops."

Fabio stared at Marco, his expression a mix of disbelief and genuine amusement. But as he looked closer into Marco’s dark eyes, he saw zero hesitation. Marco wasn’t joking. He was completely serious about settling their "fate" with the simplest game in existence.

Fabio let out a breathy laugh, raised his own glass, and downed the rest of his drink in one shot. He set the empty glass down right next to Marco’s.

"Fine," Fabio said smoothly.

He raised his right hand and formed a fist opposite Marco’s.

They locked eyes, staring at each other unblinking. In a single second, the easygoing mood in the room vanished, replaced by a sharp, suffocating air of competition.

Marco sat back with his usual cocky posture, a subtle, confident smirk playing on his lips. Fabio sat opposite him, his dark gaze sharp and intense, refusing to yield a single inch.

It was a childhood game, simple and harmless on the surface, but given what was at stake, topping precisely, every single movement carried immense weight. Neither of them was willing to lose.

"On three," Marco said quietly, his voice low.

They raised their fists together in perfect sync.

One.

Two.

Three.

Their hands dropped on the third count and shifted instantly.

Marco threw scissors. Fabio threw rock.

Fabio’s solid fist crushed Marco’s open fingers cleanly.

Fabio didn’t say a word. He just let out a quiet, dangerous smirk, keeping his dark eyes fixed straight on Marco.

Marco clicked his tongue, a faint flicker of annoyance darting across his face before his confident smile returned. He gestured toward Fabio’s hand with a slight nod of his chin.

"Round two," Marco declared.

They raised their fists back up into the space between them.

One.

Two.

Three.

Their hands dropped together again.

This time, Marco threw paper. Fabio threw rock again.

Marco’s open palm covered Fabio’s fist completely.

"One all," Marco said smoothly, his smirk widening as he leveled the score.

Fabio’s eyes narrowed slightly, the amusement instantly disappearing, replaced by pure, razor-sharp focus. Neither of them blinked. Neither of them moved a single muscle except for the fists hovering inches apart in the air.

This was it. The tie-breaker.

They raised their hands together one final time.

One...

Two...

Three...