forum "Falling in love? It's an occupational hazard." | OxO CLOSED, STALKERS WELCOME

Started May 02, 2023 by @Vitae_

tune

Ortiz paused for a moment after listening. At first, he seemed pleased that Mikhail was working for him, but then, his expression shifted to anger. “Carlos went to ASTROS?!” his voice boomed throughout the building. He took a long moment to calm himself, then takes a deep breath. “Underage drinking.” He mutters. Mostly to himself.

After another moment, Ortiz looks Mikhail in the eyes. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll…make sure to handle that place.” He smiles. “And thank you for letting me know my son lied.” He mumbles. “He wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.”

Mikhail looked away with an uncomfortable expression at the sudden loudness of the crime lord's voice. He shook his head to clear the slight ringing in his ears, but stilled at the man's thanks. A curious light entered his eyes, and his head tilted ever so slightly to the left.

"Of course. You are my boss now… Right?" There was something almost cheeky in the way he said it, although it retained the respectfulness from his earlier tone. "And about the living arrangements… " he trailed off hopefully.

Ortiz smiles warmly, “You can chose to stay here if ya want…it’s safer. But if you prefer to stay somewhere else, theres a nice apartment complex right by here. And yes, I am your boss.” He holds out his hand, “Welcome to the family.”

He chuckles softly, “I’ll let you get to work today if you want. You can try to drill into my sons head that he has no choice in this matter.” He scoffs.

Relief flooded through him, and Mikhail's smile curved in a more genuine manner. He dipped his head again in gratefulness, voicing his, "thank you," out loud as he reached to shake Mr. Ortiz's hand. As his own long fingers clasped the crime lord's calloused palm, he was almost surprised to note that the man's hand, despite all the blood that must be on them, felt like any other hand he'd ever shaken. A bit of perspective, he mused to himself.

Raising his head again, he said, with a bit of mirth, "I'm happy to start now. Something tells me I may need the extra time to convince him of that fact."

_{(We can do another timeskip to Mikhail meeting Carlos again if you'd like! I think I'll let you lead the way with that one, unless you'd like me to!)}

Carlos had tried to lock himself in his room, but as always, ended up with the lock taken off. “For my own safety. Please!” He grumbles as he flops onto his bed.

He always knew his father loved him, but he also hated how overprotective he was. He shouldn’t be treated like a child! Even if he did sometimes act childish…but that was besides the point! Carlos sighs a heavy sigh and looks up at his star covered ceiling. He had always loved stars…that’s why he loved Astros so much. He wanted to remake that beautiful art piece in his own room. He had lights and everything.

Suddenly, he hears footsteps from out his door and bolts upright. Who was that? He blinks and stares at the door, silent.

Mikhail rapped his knuckles softly against the wooden door, waiting for a moment for a response. When none came, he rolled his eyes in amusement and let out an exaggerated puff. "I have a delivery for…" he paused for dramatic effect. "…Carlos Ortiz. New bodyguard? I'll need you to sign."

He could tell from the state of the doorknob that there was no lock, but Mikhail wasn't too keen on invading Carlos' personal space so harshly right from the get-go—especially since his father had suggested the boy wasn't too thrilled about this arrangement just yet. It was better to have a more organic, official first meeting.

Carlos scoffs as he hears Mikail’s voice. “Sorry bud…didn’t order any bodyguard. You probably have the wrong address.” He grumbles, laying back down. “Just because you helped me…which I am grateful for, still doesn’t mean you can just be given the job of playing babysitter.”

He chuckles softly, smiling. Even if he hated this arrangement, he loved playing along.

Another huff of amusement escaped Mikhail's parted lips. He couldn't help but smile at that, turning to press his back against the door so he was more comfortable. "Well, I guess it's not outlandish to think I got the address wrong with all the twists and turns in this house. Honestly, with the amount of rooms here, I'm surprised you chose to stay squirreled away in this one. It doesn't even have a lock," he pointed out.

He reached up to rest a hand on his neck, pushing slightly until a satisfying crack greeted his ears. He hummed to himself, then cracked the other side before he spoke again. "Unfortunately, kid, your father already signed for me. And thanks to what happened two weeks ago, I can't exactly return to my old job." He paused again after the words, realizing how that might be construed.

"But that's alright. I was sick of that job anyways," he corrected. "Too many secrets… And too many rude clients. You're not going to continue that trend and shut me out here all night, are you?" He did his best to sound vaguely pitiful at that, but the smile was still very much present on his face. "I'd like to at least meet the kid I'm being paid to babysit."

Carlos rolls his eyes again. “I’d like to speak to the manager-“ he laughs, smiling brightly.

Once he years Michael talk about being left out of he room, he chuckles softly. “Yes actually…I’ll even make you sleep out there. Have fun cause this house is cold at night. Not too cold but enough that you enjoy a nice fluffy blanket.” He smiles warmly. “Tell ya what. If I let you in here…will you leave me alone afterwards? Or are you gonna be like an animal who was given food and keeps coming back?”

Something about that last sentence caught Mikhail by surprise, a noise of delight breaking out of his throat. "That depends," he managed to respond through a stifled laugh. "Are you planning on feeding me? I can't make any promises if you do."

When he had completely calmed himself, he knocked the back of his head against the door with a faint thump. "Look, I don't plan on being a nuisance. I just wanted to officially meet you before you decided to go anywhere I'd have to follow. Thought it might be a little less awkward this way."

He shrugged a little to himself, his arms naturally crossing over his chest as he kept an ear perked for Carlos' response. "The moment you want me gone, I'm gone—at least while you're at home," he promised.

Carlos sighs, “I’d rather you not be around me in public…thanks. But you’re free to be a weirdo and come in here. Though if you are too weird I’m throwing my book at your face. And it’s heavy.” He grins, chuckling softly. Even if he did hate this…he actually liked this guy’s humor. It fit his own…

“And don’t be a jerk either. My rooms a mess-“ He grumbles, kicking away his jacket on the floor. “An organized mess- but still a mess.” He scoffs.

Well, that was progress, although not quite in the way Mikhail had anticipated it. "Well… The 'seen-in-public' part can be negotiated later, I'm sure," he replied amicably. "But hey, I'm glad you're learning to enable my weirdness now, rather than later."

With no further hesitation, Mikhail released one of his arms to twist the doorknob, cracking the door open with the majority of his weight still pressed against it. His first glimpse of Carlos' room was the ceiling and the faintly glowing stars stuck to it, followed by a slightly inverted glimpse of the bed Carlos was sitting on.

He let his body weight carry him through the threshold, lifting his head and straightening his spine before he could tilt so far that he'd fall over. He blinked at the "organized mess", his eyes cutting straight to Carlos. "Wow, you weren't kidding," he stated plainly, his face slack with faux seriousness before he threw his hands up as if to defend himself against any potentially thrown books.

"Kidding, kidding—you should've seen the state of my place before I left," he said, lowering his arms slightly to check that there really wasn't anything being thrown at him before he lowered them completely. Instinctively, Mikhail's eyes searched for any trace of injuries on Carlos from that night, but his expression was light enough that it wasn't obvious.

Carlos definitely looked tired and very worn out. His eyes were very dull, contrasting his beautifully lit room. The room itself had piles of papers, books and other items stacked on his desk and other flat surfaces. Of course, there was no book even near Carlos. He grinned cheekily.

“Heh…scared of little old me?” He smirks, sitting up and wincing slightly. From any information that could be gathered, his head was definitely still damaged. “Well…” Carlos mutters, “Pop a squat.”

Mikhail arched an eyebrow at the suggestion, but did as he was told without complaint–more or less.

He lowered himself to the ground in one seamless movement, legs neatly crossed beneath him and hands resting against his calves.

"I wouldn't say scared… But cautious, yes," Mikhail replied, matching Carlos' cheeky grin with one that had a note of mischievous in it.

His keen eyes easily caught the ginger manner in which Carlos held himself, feeling a pang of sympathy at the realization that he wasn't fully recovered yet. He wished he'd reacted quicker that night, rather than pausing to listen more. Perhaps if he had, Carlos wouldn't have been as injured.

He shook himself out of those thoughts quickly, though, knowing it would do them no good.

"What exactly has your father told you about me?" he asked, curious to hear the answer as he wasn't quite sure what Mr. Ortiz even knew about him. The man had his full name, at least. He either knew only that, or… it was possible he knew everything. The thought sent a chill down his spine, but he ignored it.

Carlos simply shrugs, “I can’t remember much…but he did say you’re a good man and to trust you. Though…no offense, but I’m not really super trusting.” He sighs and lays down, the pain becoming too much for him.

After a moment, Carlos mutters. “Why did you save me…?”

(Sorry its short-)

(No need to apologize! As long as there's something to work with, I'm more than happy ^^)

Mikhail hummed at that response, even more curious than before. He wasn't surprised Carlos didn't trust him, yet. He was more surprised that Mr. Ortiz seemed to. Did the man really just trust him based off of the one incident? He couldn't imagine the man had looked into his past if it hadn't already been brought up, but on the same token he found that a little hard to believe.

'What is it they say? Don't look a gift horse in the mouth?' He put the matter aside for now, focusing on Carlos' softer tone as the meaning behind his question clicked.

The recently-made bodyguard blinked. "Because you needed saving?" came his knee-jerk response, his pitch rising in a way that sounded more like a question than a statement.

He paused for a beat, seeming to realize his answer wasn't exactly a satisfying one. "…You may not have been told this, or maybe you don't remember–" at that he shot the boy an accusing look, softened by a small smile, "–but I worked for Astros before you were attacked. I just happened to be outside when I heard commotion from the alley, and when I saw what was happening… I mean, I couldn't just leave you there." Mikhail shrugged, as if that explained it. "I know my way around a fight, and I knew I could help, so I did."

Another pause. "My name is Mikhail, by the way. Mikhail Novikov… Just to even the playing field some, since I already know your name," he added. "When you feel like you can trust me, you can call me Mick."

Carlos looks at him, then nods. “Oh…ok.” He sighs, picking at a loose string on his shirt. “Still is…weird though…” he mumbles. The boy seemed so worn out…even slightly out of it. In all honesty, he looked…sickly.

After what seemed like forever, Carlos sighs. “I…really liked Astros…it had what my room has…but better.” He huffs softly. “Father’s gonna…destroy it…” he mutters softly.

Mikhail scoffed at the mumbled 'weird'. "I thought we already established that I was weird? And that you should learn to enable it." The bodyguard didn't understand what part Carlos was lost on, but something told him he shouldn't press the issue.

At the boy's sigh, Mikhail shifted his focus. "Destroy… The stars?" The bodyguard's gaze was drawn to the ceiling, where it stayed for a long moment. His face was thoughtful when his eyes landed back on Carlos. "Or Astros itself," he seemed to realize aloud.

There was a heavy silence before Mikhail spoke again. "Maybe that's not the worst outcome… There was a lot of things going on in Astros. Unsafe things," he admitted, unsure how much detail he should go into or how much Carlos already knew.

"It is a shame, though. That centerpiece got me through some of my toughest shifts. I'm pretty sure half of my coworkers thought I was religious after how many times I'd look to the Heavens above for some peace," he explained with a snort. "I just liked looking at the ceiling."

He sighed, studying the exhausted way Carlos had slumped into himself. The boy looked like he was ready to drop, and given everything that had happened, he probably needed the rest. "I should get out of your hair. I did promise to try not to be a nuisance, afterall." He hesitated. "If it's any consolation, there are plenty of other ways to stargaze. You've got a piece of it in here–a piece of peace."

He stood carefully, stretching out his spine all the way up to his fingertips. Before he moved to leave, he fixed his startlingly amber eyes on Carlos again. "Maybe when you're recovered–when you can call me Mick," he amended. "–I can show you an even cooler place to stargaze."

Carlos looks at him, a glint of hope in his eyes. “Really?” he smiles softly. He loved stars…and astrology and astronomy in general. Anything about stars and space…he loved it. He remembered bits and pieces of him, his mother, and father all laying in a soft grassy green field, looking up at the beautiful stars. He remembered his mother pointing out Orion. Carlos had even replicated the beautiful constellation in his own room. Along with the star cluster of his and his family’s zodiacs.

Carlos blinks as he snaps back into reality and nods slightly.