Mafia Modravé (manxboy)

CHAPTER ONE

Meeting new people and making new friends was never really a hard thing for eighteen year old Cove; things like that just came naturally to him. He could pick up conversation with a random person anytime, anywhere and at anyplace. It his was second nature to be able to do so.

And doing so, he has met some of the strangest yet, the most interesting people ever. Not once, has sparking up a conversation with a random person caused him any immediate danger. Sure, a few times he has ended up getting to know a couple crackheads and a drunk, but they never caused him any harm.

It was that one man however, that one man that caused Cove's life to change so dramatically, so unexpectedly, it nearly killed him.

That man was called, Modravé De Costa Lopez.

It all started when the gay eighteen year old took a very cliché trip to a gay bar away from his suburban town and into the city, in search of a new found friend or a quick fuck for the night. Either possible outcome didn't spoil or deter Cove from having a great night.

That very same night, a certain man also decided to stop at the pumping gay club -- maybe have couple drinks and have a quick fuck also. Except, something caught the man's eye.

A boy who was barely legal enough to even be in a bar such as this, stood in the corner of the room, chatting to a drunken man who was definitely trying to woo the boy with his drunken humour. The boy looked so soft and so beautiful, stood there with the clubs brightly coloured light illuminating across his soft, flawless skin and outlining his gorgeous features.

Modravé wanted to walk over to the boy and take him for himself, but oddly, his feet remained in place. So, he stood there, staring as the boy tried to help the drunken man regain his balance from his little stumble which had left him a giggling mess.

Modravé wanted to rip the man away from the boy and kill him. Just because he was touching the boys' flawless skin. Skin like that is not made to be touched with filthy hands like that. Skin like his should be caressed softly, be shown love and have delicate kisses be placed upon it. But sometimes, Modravé's name should be scratched upon the pale skin; Modravé should mark the skin for himself and make sure the boy knows who is the only one allowed to touch him in such ungodly ways.

Soon enough though, when the man's hands began to wander around the boys body did Modravé finally move. He stalked closer to the boy, watched how his face screwed up – obviously uncomfortable by the touch of the man. Modravé soon finds himself behind the drunk man and eyes connected with the boys deep green ones.

"C'mon, baby. Let's get out of here, l-lemme show you what I got", the man unattractively slurs.

The boys eyes flicker towards Modravé, but he does not say anything.

Modravé then proceeds to fling the drunk mistake away from the soft skinned boy and onto the floor. The man yells out, catching a few party goers attention, before the turn around again uninterested.

Modravé turns to the boy who is looking up at him with wide eyes.

Modravé isn't sure what to say as he isn't very good when it comes to words, and especially not small talk. It's the thing he hates most, sparking up a conversation. Modravé has always been better with actions, rather than words to be honest.

"My name is Modravé", he tells the young lad, sending him a little smile.

The boy straightens up and stares up at Modravé.