General RP Mafia Debt (RhysTheFirebird)

Lee gave a nod, and there was a slight tilt to his head as Dimitri questioned him. Ah, there it was. He would love nothing more than that. He just figured he could return to Dimitri's side sooner. Yet, he did want to make sure Anya was on the other side of the closed door.

Servant... He was, once before. They had something a little different now, whatever it was, a mutual agreement. A different sort of servitude. Regardless, he would wear the title proudly.

He nodded, not minding bringing Nadia with him, if he managed to find her on the way out. She had been meant to ensure his safety, the poor woman always did her best despite threats from Dimitri. Before he could move to climb off the bed, he felt lips against his collar. He stilled, allowing Dimitri contact with him, comforting his silent, insulted pet, making him shudder by that alone.

"Mmm..." He hummed happily, eyes closed, as he leaned. "With pleasure, Sir~." He complied, a bit too enthusiastically, excited by what was to come when he returned. Even if they simply lay together again.

Anya had to get it by now, if it wasn't obvious before. Frankly, Lee didn't care. He was too focused on removing this storm from his master's life; a first true act of service for his owner. He turned, leaning in to give a quick peck on his cheek. He then slid off his side of the bed, careful of his ribs, and approached Anya, motioning toward the door, "Well? Come." He urged, making his way out of the already opened door. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be." He walked down the hall, ensuring she was following, and leaving his master alone. He would feel better once she was out.
 
Anya didn't move right away. Her gaze lingered on Dimitri, narrowed and venomous beneath lashes heavy with disdain. She stared at him as if trying to peel away the layers of his resolve, find some crack where her words might still reach. But there was no invitation in his face. Only finality.

With a slow, mocking smile, she turned on her heel to follow Lee, her expensive heels clicking loudly in a deliberate rhythm—an echo of protest with every step. But before crossing the threshold, she looked back one final time.

“Enjoy your pet, Dimitri,” she said smoothly, voice saccharine and sharp all at once. “We’ll see how long this obedient phase lasts. You always come back when the novelty wears off.”

She offered no glance to Lee as she walked past him into the hall.

The moment the door closed behind them, her demeanor shifted like the flick of a switch.

She didn’t follow him with grace anymore. Her steps were quieter now—controlled, stalking, like a serpent waiting for the perfect place to sink its fangs. Her voice dropped, no longer theatrical for Dimitri’s benefit.

“You really think he wants you?” she murmured, her tone dipped in condescension. “A pretty little stray who latched on at the right moment?”

Her eyes flicked him over, disdainful.

“Tell me—does he like the bruises? Is that what keeps you interesting? Or do you just whimper well enough to make him feel powerful again?”

She leaned in slightly, her breath cool against his ear as they turned a corner in the hall, her voice quieter now, but no less cruel.

“You think because he held your hand in a hospital bed, he won’t grow tired of the baggage? Of the drama? Of the neediness?” She chuckled. “I’ve seen him toss out better than you with less reason.”

Anya straightened, keeping pace beside him, her head held high with that same spoiled superiority.

“Enjoy the crumbs while you can, darling. That man was never meant to belong to anyone.”
 
Lee huffed quietly, rather irritated. He was better than her. He didn't have to say anything, didn't have to give her any satisfaction. He and Dimitri knew better. Certainly, Dimitri didn't think any of the things she said-

The click of those heels had quieted, and Lee was on edge. He was alert, though he didn't want to express anger or irritation outwardly.

"You don't know what you're talking about." How clueless. Dimitri never laid a hand on him. If only she knew the true reason why Dimitri was in the hospital, where the bruises and marks on Lee had come from. They certainly weren't self-inflicted. Even if she did know... would she care? To make up her own narrative to fit whatever story she created... He wouldn't put it past her.

He didn't turn to face her, keeping his eyes forward at all times. Just get to the door. The quicker they got her out... He shuddered, his mask faltering, Lee doing everything in his power not to turn and look at her.

Dimitri didn't mind. He wouldn't have urged Lee to speak whenever he quieted down due to trauma, rambling on about his favorite topics. She was so, so clueless. Why would he go through so much effort over him if he held no interest?

She was beside him now, and he refused to turn. He could only shake his head, "Hey, people change."

At that, there was a slight tilt to his head, and Lee had to glance at her. "If that's the case... what makes you think you have a chance?" Reaching the door, he more than happily opened it, gesturing with an arm for her to exit. "Please, so I can return to his bed." He wouldn't let what she said get to him. Dimitri was throwing her out while he was expected back in his bed. "Coming back will only hurt you."
 
Anya paused just outside the threshold, one heel planted firmly on the polished marble, the other still inside as if the act of leaving was beneath her. She didn’t step out—not yet. Not before delivering one last bite.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she purred, slowly turning her head just enough to meet his eyes. “I don’t need a chance with him. I’ve already had him.”

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk, a poisonous thing dressed in red lipstick and diamond earrings.

“More times than you could count. In every way that mattered. You think curling up in his bed makes you special? That he let you kiss his wounds and suddenly you’re the king of his empire?” She laughed—low, musical, condescending. “Cute.”

Anya took a deliberate step past the doorway, her coat trailing behind like a silken threat, but her gaze lingered, sharp and assessing. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. Every word was precision-cut to wound, to infect the seams of doubt she hoped were buried just beneath Lee’s skin.

“Dimitri doesn’t fall in love. He doesn’t keep things. Not men. Not women. Not broken little strays trying to play consort. The moment he stops seeing you as something new?” She tapped one manicured nail to his chest. “You’ll be gone. Just like the rest. Just like me."
 
"Then why bother coming back?" As much as she may want to get to Lee, he wasn't too phased. He didn't quite understand her intentions, why return to reclaim Dimitri if she was so satisfied having him once before?

"Hey, if he's happy." Lee hadn't done a thing but get dragged there and put to work. Everything else was Dimitri's doing, followed by Lee's addictive personality. He could only shake his head. She really had no idea.

He knew this wasn't something that would last forever. He didn't appreciate having the reminder shoved in his face. He shrugged, wanting to appear rather unfazed by the very realistic statement. He was there now, Dimitri wanting him by his side. That was all he could ask for.

Lee gently pushed her hand away this time when he was touched. "He's made it quite clear he's done. So am I." He motioned toward the door again, wanting her to leave. Before she could get another word in, the moment she was out, he closed and locked the door behind him.

Lee let out a tired sigh. He had a feeling she would be back, Lee hopeful his assumption was wrong. He made his way back up toward Dimitri's room. The estate seemed to quiet down, returning to the usual gentle buzz of the staff working.

"Where did you find that wicked witch?" He questioned with a small whine as he entered the bedroom. He climbed back onto the bed, sitting comfortably by his side.
 
Anya’s eyes flicked toward the closing door, lips still curled in that polished, smug little smirk. “Why bother coming back?” she echoed with a soft scoff, her tone layered with mockery and something deeper—something more bitter than she'd ever admit. “Because, darling, he always comes back to me. Eventually.”

She let the words hang in the air like perfume—cloying, potent, lingering long after she walked away.


---

When Lee returned, the bedroom felt quieter than before. The storm had passed, but something had been unsettled in its wake. Dimitri hadn’t moved much. He sat propped against the headboard, a tablet in hand, but he wasn’t reading. His eyes were on the doorway before Lee even stepped through it.

At the sound of his voice—Where did you find that wicked witch?—a faint huff of breath escaped Dimitri. A laugh, perhaps. Dry. Lacking any humor.

“She wasn’t always like that,” he murmured, setting the tablet aside. “But then, I wasn’t always like this either.”

Lee climbed back onto the bed, settling beside him. Dimitri didn’t immediately pull him in this time. Instead, his eyes traced the shape of Lee’s face for a long, lingering moment, as if trying to read the weight left behind by Anya’s words.

“She was there… before all of this. When I first took control. Convenient, sharp, good in a fight… and knew how to make herself valuable. After Tae, I needed a new partner, to show I was still strong.” A pause. “I’ve left her. Gone back. Left again. That part, she wasn’t wrong about.”

There was no shame in his voice, just a quiet admission of something he knew Lee had a right to hear. “I cycle through people. Lovers, allies, threats. It’s always been easier than needing them.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, jaw working as he looked away, voice rougher now—low and certain. “But I didn’t put you in this bed because you were convenient, Lee. You weren’t the plan.” A hand finally reached over, knuckles brushing along Lee’s thigh. A steadying anchor.

“That woman came here to remind me of who I was. But you…” He finally looked up at Lee again, the words slower now, deliberate. “You’re what makes me wonder who I might still become.”

He didn’t promise forever. Dimitri never did.

But in that moment, there was no one else in the world but Lee—and that was as close to eternity as he’d ever allowed himself to hope for.
 
Anya had tried to sow doubt into Lee, and at first he wasn't phased... until he let her words settle. He appeared annoyed and tired, a frown slowly forming over his lips. He tried to cover it up as he noted Dimitri studying him, smiling gently, uncertain. She was useful to Dimitri, something Lee took from his words. His gaze fell, falling onto his hands lying in his lap. Was it true? Anya returned because there may actually be a chance Dimitri would take her back. Just like before. He started thinking back on her words, picking them apart, looking for any chance he might be out the door next.

If Lee wasn't there, would Dimitri have? Of course he would, why wouldn't he? There would be nothing standing in his way; just something to go back to - familiarity, comfort. Lee couldn't blame him when he probably would end up doing the same thing.

A small, amused laugh could be heard at those words. No, he wasn't planned. His brother had to get himself killed, and he was next in line. He finally looked up, his smile still present. He placed a hand atop the one on his thigh, keeping it there. If he recalled correctly, Dimitri had always gone after him long after knowing Lee wanted nothing to do with him. His situation was quite different.

They always had a realistic view of things. Lee felt they had to be; they had been so close to losing each other, something that could happen at any point.

"I get it. I want to be... whatever you need me to be. For as long as I can." As long as he was there, he was Dimitri's. "If that's okay. I'll be happy if I'm by your side." He wanted to be with him; he wanted to be good for him. He gave a squeeze to his hand, comforting contact.
 
Dimitri’s eyes didn’t waver from Lee’s face, not even once, as the boy’s mask cracked—just enough for that faint flicker of something to bleed through. Doubt. Quiet. Subtle. But Dimitri saw it, the same way he saw weakness in a rival’s stance before a fight began. The way he saw betrayal written in glances long before blades were drawn.

He saw it in Lee’s smile.

The forced gentleness of it. The polite shape it took to avoid being questioned. It made his jaw tighten, a heat pulsing low behind his ribs—not anger at Lee, never that—but at the fucking nerve of the woman who had walked into his house and thought she could speak doubt into something sacred.

His hand turned under Lee’s, fingers threading through without needing permission. A quiet motion. Final. “You say that like I need a tool,” he said softly, the chill in his voice still lingering like frost in the aftermath of a storm. “As if I want you here because you're useful.”

He leaned forward, just slightly, until their foreheads brushed—a ghost of contact meant to hold, not control.

“I could’ve kept Anya. Could’ve kept dozens like her. They follow orders. Know how to fight. Don’t cry when they’re scared, and they don’t fall apart if I raise my voice.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, and his voice dropped—quieter now, raw. “But none of them ever looked at me the way you do. None of them ever stayed for me. They stayed for power. For status. For safety.”

His thumb brushed across Lee’s knuckles slowly, grounding. “And you... you stay when you shouldn't. After everything. After what I’ve done. You choose me without needing to win anything from it.

“I’m not letting you go. Not when I’ve finally found someone who didn’t come crawling for what I could give them, but what they could be beside me.”

He opened his eyes again, meeting Lee’s gaze fully now. “So don’t ask if it’s okay. You’re already mine.” No promises. No fairytales. Just truth. Cold and clean and unshakable. And that, for Dimitri, was the only kind of love he knew how to give.
 
Lee blinked, that hand threading fingers, Lee's hold tightening slightly. He didn't want to lose this. Never, if he could help it. Ah... He wasn't like the others, Lee momentarily thinking it was a bad thing. He kept Anya, he kept going back to her, because she was stronger and knew what she was doing. Who was to say he wouldn't want to go back?

"No... no. Not like that." He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. He fell quiet, letting the other speak.

Something in his mind had him going back and forth, worry rising in him. In the end, he may lose the other... Their foreheads pressed together, and his mind eased.

Lee was different. Dimitri liked that. Dimitri kept him for those very reasons. Another quiet exhale, another reminder he was crazy for being there. But he didn't care. For once, he was happy.

"Mm... I just... I'm happy. I'm happier when I'm with you." He found comfort and security in Dimitri, something he never really had. His friends did a lot to fill the voids in his life, but Dimitri did so much more.

"Don't let me go." He said, shaking his head. "I'm yours," he mused, fingers gently brushing over the collar. "Yeah?" He whispered, extending his arms to gently wrap around Dimitri's neck, not wanting to hurt him as he leaned forward to lay on him. He clung, face pressed into the crook of his neck. "Just keep me. Just... own me," he whispered, breath ghosting against his skin. For as long as he could, he would be his.
 
Dimitri stilled.

The feeling of Lee’s arms around his neck, his breath warm and fragile against his throat, the trembling little whisper “own me”—it sent a slow, relentless pull through his chest. Not lust. Not power. Something heavier. Something terrifying in its permanence.

He hadn’t meant to fall in love with the boy he once thought of as a pretty distraction. Hadn’t planned on keeping him. But Lee… Lee stayed. Not because of wealth. Not for protection. Not because he feared Dimitri—but because he trusted him. Even now, after everything, he curled into Dimitri like he was safe there.

God. That scared him more than any rival or bullet ever had.

His arms wrapped carefully around Lee’s waist, holding him firmly but gently, as if anchoring something that might drift away the moment he blinked. Dimitri turned his head, resting it against Lee’s, lips brushing into the soft, unruly hair near his temple.

“I told you,” he murmured, voice low, velvet and ice. “You’re already mine.”

The words held weight. Not a vow made from emotion. A statement of fact. A brand carved into bone.

His hand slid up Lee’s spine, feeling each vertebra beneath his fingers, the lean stretch of muscle under skin. So breakable. So loyal. Dimitri’s jaw clenched for a moment as he exhaled through his nose.

“I don’t share. I don’t let go. If you ever forget that… I’ll remind you.”

It wasn’t said with cruelty. It was a warning, yes—but a promise too. He would fight for him. Kill for him. Keep him until his final breath. And God help anyone who tried to take him away.

Dimitri’s eyes closed. He could feel the boy’s heartbeat against his own.

“You’re not a phase, Lee,” he whispered into his hair. “You’re the only thing I didn’t see coming. And the only thing I’m keeping.”

And with that, he simply held him. Letting silence fall like snowfall in the dark, and allowing—for the first time in a long while—the peace that came with keeping what was his.
 
Lee wasn't a phase. His love planned on keeping him.

The words repeated in his mind over the coming months. He was better before Dimitri, his ribs needing only a few weeks to heal. The bruising was faint, much like the new scars littering his skin. From afar, no one would know he had been attacked. Dimitri, on the other hand... Lee was cautious, even if the other told him he was fine. He didn't trust himself, didn't trust that he wouldn't get too excited and end up hurting the other by jumping into his arms or the like.

Lee was fine, physically. Mentally, well, he was never okay there. Nightmares weren't new to Lee, though it had been a while since he was truly affected by them. If he slept alone in his own room, he would wake up in a cold sweat, panicked and screaming. Staying by Dimitri's side was the only way he slept peacefully through the night. After everything they had been through and their new relationship, there was no reason for Lee to be alone.

There was a chance that Lorenzo was still out there, and that scared Lee.

Ridding himself of such thoughts, he tried to focus on their new roles in their relationship. While Dimitri healed, there weren't many chances for them to play. Even as his love gained strength and Lee was certain that simply looking at Dimitri wrong wouldn't have him suddenly bleeding out, Lee still kept his hands to himself.

Dimitri had seemed distant lately, whether the man knew it or not. Lee was feeling lonely, and he couldn't find his love no matter how much he paced around the estate.

"Master!" He called out finally, growing annoyed. He had plenty of chances to call the man by his title. After their conversation that day, he spoke it confidently and proudly. The only issue was tracking him down. He had heard talk of some turf war from the staff, and he figured that was the very last thing they needed. He wasn't going to lose Dimitri.
 
Dimitri heard Lee before he saw him.

The echo of “Master!” cut through the long, marbled hallway like a blade—sharp, desperate, and achingly familiar. It made Dimitri pause mid-stride, one gloved hand tightening around the stack of reports he’d been reading, his jaw clenching hard enough that the muscle jumped.

He hadn’t meant to disappear on him. Not really.
But the city was simmering—one bad spark away from an open turf war. Two rival families had begun circling his territory like wolves, emboldened by the weeks he’d spent recovering. Rumors had spread that Dimitri was weak, injured, distracted.

Distracted by a pretty little stray he brought home.
He’d heard the whispers. He ignored them. Mostly.

But ignoring the problem didn’t make it go away. And every hour he spent keeping his empire from tipping into chaos meant an hour away from Lee.

And that—more than the threat of war—was beginning to grate on him.

The soft, rapid footsteps grew louder, and Dimitri let out a long, low exhale before turning around.

Lee appeared at the end of the corridor, breath quick, hair ruffled from pacing, brown eyes flashing with worry and irritation. Bare feet on cold floors. Collar glinting under the lights. A sight Dimitri had grown stupidly, frustratingly fond of.

“Here,” Dimitri said finally, voice steady but quieter than usual. “I’m right here.”

Lee slowed to a stop in front of him, looking up at him like he’d been dropped into a nightmare and clawed his way out again. Dimitri’s chest tightened. Guilt, annoyance, longing—he wasn’t sure which was worse.

He lowered the reports.

“You shouldn’t be wandering the estate shouting for me,” he said, softer than his words suggested. “You’ll get the staff worked up.”

But Lee still looked bothered. Hurt, even. And Dimitri wasn’t blind.

This wasn’t the first day Lee had searched for him.
Wasn’t the first day Dimitri had been pulled from him by a dozen crises and rivals calling for blood.
Wasn’t the first day he wondered if he was failing the one thing he actually wanted to keep.

Dimitri took a step closer.

“There’s trouble in the city,” he admitted, voice low. “I didn’t want you caught in the middle of it.” His hand lifted, brushing Lee’s cheek with the back of his knuckles. “And… I’ve been busy. Too busy.”

He saw the flicker of relief in Lee’s eyes, mixed with frustration, and Dimitri felt something twist painfully inside him.

He had been distant.
He hadn’t meant to be.
But Lee’s presence did things to him—softened things that had never been soft, cracked things that had always been solid. And Dimitri wasn’t used to being weakened by anything.

“Come here,” he said softly, pulling Lee against him. “And tell me what’s wrong.”
 
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Lee had finally found Dimitri, and he felt a mixture of relief and irritation. “I couldn’t find you.” He had forgotten his phone, lost somewhere in his room; otherwise, he could have texted or called Dimitri. Even then, he didn’t want to rely on a device, much preferring to see his owner face-to-face. Right now, he didn’t look thrilled. Neither of them did.

Lee understood the position Dimitri was in. It still didn’t keep him from feeling a tad abandoned.

“I don’t like not knowing where you are.” After nearly losing Dimitri, he had grown far too attached.

His fears were confirmed, and a frown was evident on his face. Trouble meant Dimitri would go out and get himself hurt if he wasn’t careful.

The last thing he needed was to find out he was involved somehow. He didn’t want to bring Dimitri any trouble.

Looking up at his owner, he leaned in as he was pulled close, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Let me stay by your side.” He pouted, nearly clinging to his form. He hadn’t gotten many chances to be this close to him since he was injured and then grew too busy to be with him.

“Tell me what’s happening. Please.” He urged, not letting him keep him in the dark.
 
Dimitri knew that tone—soft, afraid, and threaded with a guilt Lee didn’t deserve to carry.
He felt Lee’s arms slip around his neck, felt the weight of him, the way the boy held on like Dimitri was the only thing keeping him steady. And in a way… he was.

He rested one hand on Lee’s lower back, the other sliding up between his shoulder blades, grounding him.

“I know you don’t like it,” Dimitri murmured. “I don’t like it either.”

And that was the truth.
He’d gotten used to Lee warming his bed whenever he wanted, curling under his arm at night, pressing against his side during long days in the office. Being apart this much had been… unpleasant. More than he admitted.

“I should’ve told you where I was,” he added. “But things got messy.”

A shadow crossed his features—one only Lee ever got to see closely.

He eased Lee back a little, just enough to see his face. His fingers brushed Lee’s jaw, tilting his chin up so there was no hiding, no looking away.

“You want the truth?” he asked quietly. “All of it?”

He waited just long enough for Lee’s small nod.

And then he said it plainly.

“There are two families fighting for territory on the west side. They think I’m weak because of what happened with Lorenzo. They think they can take pieces from me while I’m… distracted.”

His jaw tightened.

“They’re wrong,” he said, low and dangerous. “But they’re getting bold.”

His thumb brushed the collar at Lee’s throat, a reminder and an anchor.

“You staying by my side means you’re in the line of fire. If someone wants to hurt me, they’ll come for you first. You know that.”

He let the words settle—not to scare him, but because Lee needed honesty.

But then Dimitri leaned down, pressing their foreheads together again, softer now.

"But I can't. . . I can't let you that close right now. I'm sorry, I wish I could but I can't fucking loose you." His fingers dig into Lee's shirt.
 
Lee pressed his face into the crook of his owner’s neck, nuzzling so gently into the space. “I don’t care how messy it gets,” he whispered. He missed staying by his side in his office or anywhere else in the estate. He could keep his distance, lying across the couch, out of the way. As long as he could see Dimitri, he didn’t care.

He could feel Dimitri gently pry them apart, and he looked up, eyes sad. The nod came a short moment later. He could already figure out what was happening, but he needed to hear it from Dimitri.

The frown didn’t fade. He hated hearing that name, but his fears were coming true. Lorenzo had fucked things up for his love.

Distracted. He was right. Hell, Dimitri had warned him of such before. Still…

He sighed softly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Dimitri reassured him it simply wasn’t the case, but he still felt responsible.

Of course, he didn’t want to get in his way, to get himself involved, or anything of the sort. Getting kidnapped wasn’t in the plans. But he missed him so much.

“I can’t stand not being with you.” It physically hurt him. Much like the thought of Dimitri losing him. “No… I won’t get kidnapped again.” Staying inside the estate was safe, right? He gently bit his lower lip, feeling stuck. “I love you, Master…”
 
Dimitri stilled the moment those words left Lee’s lips—I love you, Master.
They hit like a blow, not painful but deep, shaking something he’d built his whole life to keep untouched.

He cupped the back of Lee’s head, thumb brushing the nape of his neck as if steadying himself.

“…Lee,” he breathed, the name soft, vulnerable in a way Dimitri almost never allowed.

For a long moment he just held him there—Lee’s face buried in his neck, Dimitri’s hand curled against his spine—letting the confession sit between them, warm and terrifying.

Then he tilted Lee’s head back enough to see his eyes.

“I love you too.”

The words were quiet, restrained, almost like Dimitri was afraid of them, but it was real. Solid. Unmistakably true.

His fingers traced Lee’s cheek, lingering where the boy carried worry like bruises under his skin.

“That’s exactly why I can’t keep you at my side for this,” he said, voice roughened by honesty. “Not because I don’t want you. Not because you’re a burden. But because losing you…”

He exhaled hard, pressing their foreheads together, eyes closing.

“I’ve already buried someone I loved. Watched what was left of me rot in the dark afterwards.”

His jaw clenched, the memory flickering behind his eyelids—something savage, something broken.

“I barely climbed out of that hole. You—”
His hand tightened against Lee’s neck.
“You put me back together. Piece by piece.”

When he looked at Lee again, his expression was raw with his emotions; protective, pained, fiercely devoted.

“If something happened to you because you stayed too close… I wouldn’t come back from it.”
“I can’t lose you. Not to these petty bastards, not to their war, not to a mistake I made by letting you into the line of fire.”

His thumb brushed Lee’s lower lip, stopping him from worrying it any further.

“And I can’t be distracted. Not now. Not when everyone is waiting for me to slip.”

A beat.

“But don’t think distance means absence. You’re still mine. You stay in the estate. You sleep in my bed. You come to me when I call—and I will call.”

His voice dropped, deep and anchoring.

“I love you, Lee. Which means keeping you alive comes before having you close.”

He pulled him in again, arms encircling him fully this time, as if shielding him from the world outside the door.

“Let me protect what’s mine.”
 

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