Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Are you sure this is the only way?"

iTrapped groans, dragging a hand wearily across his face, trying to stave off the embarrassment already creeping in.

Ellernate nods quietly. "Yes. We’ve gone through the plan already, iTrapped.”

Ellernate then gently lifts iTrapped’s hand away from his face. "Sit still. The makeup won't do itself, you know?"

"Okay, okay..." iTrapped exhales, shifting awkwardly in the chair, trying to find a more comfortable position.He straightens his back, and takes a breath before muttering something.

"Sorry."

"Apology accepted," Ellernate replies with a faint smile, before pulling out a small pouch filled with makeup supplies. Mascara, concealer, blush—even a tube of lipstick.

"Now, close your eyes."

With another reluctant groan, iTrapped lets his eyes fall shut. Ellernate’s hands move with soft, deliberate precision—he feels it when they curl his lashes with the mascara brush, sweep blush across his cheeks, and dust a faint shimmer along his cheekbones. Finally, they let the lipstick glide over his lips, and they’re careful not to smudge it. When Ellernate comes to a stop, iTrapped realises he’s finished, and finally opens his eyes.

And how did it lead to this, you may ask?

Well, this was just another one of their stupid ideas. He didn't know whether it came from Ellernate or Caleb, but honestly? He couldn't care less. It was just another desperate, dumb plan in their efforts to get the key—the one that would lead to the infamous casino owner’s unimaginable wealth. By seducing him. Yes, you heard that right. Someone had to play the part, and unfortunately, that someone was iTrapped.

They had carried out multiple stake-out operations at the casino—tailing Chance throughout the day, watching his every move. Eventually, they found out he would be at a popular club tonight. So the plan was for iTrapped to somehow steal the key while Chance was sleeping—or drunk. He definitely wouldn’t kill him. No way—that would be too messy.

What a terrible, awful idea. And yet here he was, getting ready.

Absentmindedly, iTrapped tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear, his fingers brushing over the long, dangly gold earrings that swayed with the slightest movement.

Oh, right. Those.

Well, at least that wasn’t the worst part, no. Even he could excuse the makeup. But the dress?

It was a thin one, made of dark blue silk and impossibly tight. He was even forced to wear those stockings—all chosen by Caleb. As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough!

He lets out an audible sigh. This was ridiculous! Oh, the things he does for the plan…

Just then, Caleb walks in, his eyes immediately catching sight of iTrapped’s appearance—the dark blue silk dress clings to him, slits teasing glimpses of pale skin. He sees the mascara adorning iTrapped’s lashes, his lips now a crimson red, and black stockings on his legs. Caleb instantly bursts into laughter.

"Shut up!" iTrapped snaps, cheeks flushing bright red, his embarrassment becoming evident.

"No, no, it’s just funny..." Caleb manages between his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. "You look passable though. That sure is one way to steal that bastard’s heart."

"Remind me why it had to be me of all people, El?" iTrapped asks, voice tight with frustration.

Ellernate, still standing close by, calmly responds, "It’s because my voice is too low. And Caleb…” He motions towards them. “He isn’t built for the part."

With that, Ellernate reaches out, fingers gently combing through iTrapped’s hair to smooth out a stubborn knot. "But you... you’re perfect for it. Long hair, long legs…”

Caleb snorts. "Probably got them from running from law enforcement all the time." He chuckles, glancing down at the stockings. “Even got the stockings too.”

"Don’t you dare say another word." iTrapped glares at him sharply.

"Pipe down, Caleb." Ellernate clicks his tongue loudly, clearly annoyed. He begins to braid the strands with deft fingers. "It’ll be fine, iTrapped. Don’t worry too much."

"Well, about that..." iTrapped protests, eyes flickering downward toward his chest, his fingers motioning nervously. "What about this?"

Caleb snorts again. "Well, we just have to hope he isn’t into that."

"But..." iTrapped stammers, unease growing in his voice. "I have a bad feeling about this. What if he—"

"Just don’t sleep with him, you idiot!" Caleb bursts out suddenly.

iTrapped immediately flushes a deeper red. "That wasn’t what I meant!"

Caleb throws his hands up in surrender. "Hey, you never know what might happen!"

"I’m going to fucking kill you, Caleb, if it’s the last thing I do." iTrapped tries to stand—he’s going to kill Caleb—but Ellernate firmly presses a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place.

"Cut it out, you two. I’ve put a lot of work into this... I wouldn’t appreciate you both ruining it with your antics."

Caleb crosses his arms, looking away with a scowl, but silently complies. iTrapped mutters something under his breath, a mixture of frustration and defeat, but Ellernate ignores it. After a few moments, Ellernate finishes braiding, then bends down, inspecting the work closely.

"Something’s missing."

Caleb scoffs. "Yeah. Clearly.”

Ignoring Caleb’s smirk, iTrapped scrunches his nose. "What could possibly be missing, El?"

Ellernate taps a finger thoughtfully against his chin, lost in contemplation. "Let me think..."

Caleb sighs loudly, rolling his eyes before relenting. He picks up iTrapped’s crown from the table. "Probably this."

iTrapped gives a dry retort. "Did that fall mess up your head or what? That’s too obvious—we’re trying not to get caught, you know."

Caleb hisses back, voice low. "I know that already. What I meant was..." He turns away, fiddling with his watch. The screen flickers with lines of code. With a small poof of smoke, the crown shrinks, transforming into a delicate clip. He steps forward and fastens it neatly into iTrapped’s hair.
"Here. Done."

Ellernate nearly squeals in excitement. "Perfect!"

"And why couldn’t we use that—" iTrapped gestures at Caleb’s screen. "To help us with the disguise?"

Caleb replies, his words almost bitter, "Seems like you’re the dumb one between us three. Have you forgotten how risky it is?"

"Trying to change your voice was already such a hassle... Tsk, I’m surrounded by fucking idiots!"

"Don’t call me an idiot! How about you—"

Meanwhile, Ellernate tunes out their bickering, stepping back to admire his work more thoroughly. He taps his chin once more, before scurrying away. Caleb and iTrapped fall silent, exchanging confused glances.

Now where was he off to…?

After a moment, Ellernate returns carrying a small box. "Almost forgot—one last thing." He hands it to iTrapped.

Curious, iTrapped opens it, revealing a pair of sleek heels inside.

Oh.

He reluctantly puts it on. He’s beginning to regret agreeing to this horrible plan.

Satisfied, Ellernate claps his hands together. "Now, off we go!"

"Here goes nothing..."

Later, in the car, iTrapped sits in the backseat, nervously peering out the window. Caleb is driving, weaving through traffic, while Ellernate sits in the front passenger's seat. Soon enough, they reach their destination. When they finally pull up beside the club, Caleb turns over his shoulder, just to look at iTrapped.

"You better not screw this up."

iTrapped rolls his eyes. "Easy for you to say."

Caleb opens his mouth to retort, but a glance from Ellernate stops him.

"That’s enough. Now’s not the time—you two can argue about this late.”

iTrapped nods, beginning to open the door. But before he can step out, Ellernate stops him. He raises a finger, then points at his face. “Don't forget to smile!”

“...okay.”

With that, iTrapped exits the car. He closes the car door. Caleb rolls down the car’s window.

"Don’t get carried away,” he murmurs gruffly.

Maybe it’s Caleb’s own way of showing concern—he never was good at being direct, after all.

"I won’t." iTrapped replies.

“Do you have your bracelet?” Caleb asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” iTrapped answers.

"Good. Call us if you need anything."

With that, Caleb rolls the window up and drives away, leaving iTrapped standing awkwardly outside the club. He takes a step toward the entrance, pausing for only a moment before forcing himself to go in. At the door, he hands the guard a fabricated invite, his fingers faintly trembling. They had decided to go with the Sonnellinos—their intel suggested the Don wouldn’t be at the party tonight. The guard peers at the invite, then lowers his sunglasses to study iTrapped more closely.

For a heartbeat, iTrapped panics—had the guard seen through his disguise? He fidgets with the fur boa around his neck, nerves prickling. This was a terrible idea, he thinks again, heart pounding.

And finally, after an eternity, the guard returns the invite. There was a faint smirk playing on his lips.

"Here you go. Enjoy your time."

iTrapped blinks, stunned. He takes back the invite, and hurriedly steps inside, forcing himself to forget the encounter.

What the fuck was that about?

But as he leaves, he doesn't catch what the guard says, and the low chuckle that follows.

"Didn't know Boss was into that... guess he’s found someone new."

Inside, the club bursts with noise—people are dancing wildly, and there are flashing lights everywhere. iTrapped slips through the crowd, his eyes darting about until he finds Chance sitting alone at the bar’s corner, staring into space.

Perfect.

He slides onto the seat beside Chance, his heart hammering. Chance glances once at him, confused, then looks away. iTrapped exhales softly, before managing his best, high-pitched voice.

“Hey.”

That catches Chance’s attention. He turns to iTrapped, raising an eyebrow. "Well, hello there."

iTrapped nervously clears his throat, trying to start up the conversation. "Crazy party, huh?"

Chance taps his fingers idly along the bar. "Yeah. Wild stuff."

He doesn't seem interested at all—in fact, he looks bored out of his mind. Nervous, iTrapped fumbles at the hem of his dress.

He’s screwed.

At that moment, the bartender—a figure in a white top hat with a black ribbon curled around it—approaches the two of them.

"What can I get you both this fine evening?"

"The usual," Chance replies almost instantly.

"And you?" The bartender looks at iTrapped, who's starting to sweat from all his panic.

"Uh, I'll have whatever he's having.”

Chance raises a hand, gesturing towards iTrapped. "You can put it on my tab. Thanks."

The bartender nods but hesitates, eyes flicking to iTrapped again. "You're new around here, aren't you?"

iTrapped nods weakly.

"Apologies, I’m going to have to ask for some identification. Just in case. Boss’s orders."

iTrapped’s heart nearly stops—he swears he’s about to faint. Just how many more things could possibly go wrong tonight?

Still, he rummages through his bag, and pulls out a card. He makes sure the picture is faced down, and slides it across the counter. The bartender takes it, tips his hat in thanks, then leaves to prepare their drinks.

“I’ll be right back.”

Everything is silent. The tension stirs, too awkward for iTrapped’s liking.

"So... you're alone tonight?"

Chance nods slowly. "Mm, yeah."

"Figured." iTrapped curls a loose strand of hair—is this how people flirt? He doesn't know. Well, it's worth a try.

"Perhaps... I could keep you some company tonight?"

Chance chuckles again. "Sure. I wouldn’t mind."

A few moments later, the bartender returns with the drinks. He also hands Chance a folded handkerchief. It’s embroidered with the initials D.S., and it doesn't look like something Chance would own. Chance examines it, puzzled, then smiles faintly and puts it away.

"What’s that?" iTrapped asks, his curiosity piqued. He needs to salvage this. Desperately.

Chance shrugs, his voice taking a teasing lilt now. "Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about."

Pretty…

iTrapped doesn't know whether he should feel overjoyed that somehow, this idiotic plan was working, or irritated. Maybe a mix. At least Chance was finally looking at him—that’s a start.

iTrapped takes a gulp of the drink, hoping it would help spare him the dignity. It's strong, way too strong for his liking—it burns all the way down his throat. "Pretty, huh? Never heard that one before."

Chance raises an eyebrow, his expression one of disbelief. "That's a shocker.” He chuckles, before playfully nudging iTrapped. “Everyone must be blind then. Can't recognise a beauty like you.”

“You sure look pretty tonight, if I do say so myself."

iTrapped turns away, desperately trying to hide his blush. This time, it's genuine—somehow, such a silly little compliment gets to him.

"Thank you."

Then, Chance leans back, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Forgot to introduce myself. The name’s Chance. And you are...?"

iTrapped winks, trying to appear coy—or at least, he tries to. "Let's leave it as a mystery. It's… more fun this way, don't you think?”

"Hm..." Chance sips his drink. "Cute.”

iTrapped feels the heat creeping into his cheeks again. He raises his glass and downs the rest in one gulp—he needs the alcohol. There’s no way he can do this sober.

"Damn. Finished it in one go." Chance chuckles, before signaling the bartender for another round. They nod, and quickly prepare a fresh drink.

iTrapped shrugs nonchalantly. “What can I say? I’m thirsty.”

“I’ll admit—it’s a cute party trick. But at this rate, you might put a dent in my wallet,” Chance says with a teasing grin.

iTrapped scoffs, pretending to be annoyed. “I can drink however much I want.”

“Well, you look like a lightweight—just one glass, and you’re already getting tipsy.”

“Shut up,” iTrapped snaps back playfully, though the flush creeping up his cheeks gives him away. He glances away for a moment, trying to hide the sudden warmth rising in his face.

“Oh yeah?” Chance leans in, closing the small distance between them, his eyes dark and full of intent. He tilts his head slightly, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Make me.”

iTrapped raises an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at his lips as he folds his arms loosely across his chest. He tries to sound brave, almost daring Chance for a challenge. “And why should I?”

Chance’s grin deepens. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He brushes a stray lock of hair behind iTrapped’s ear, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary.

“Oh? How exactly do you plan on doing that?” iTrapped teases, but he feels his own heartbeat quicken, and a familiar warmth starts to tug in his chest.

“I have my ways.” Chance’s eyes flicker with mischief as he leans closer, breath warm against iTrapped’s cheek. His gaze drops to iTrapped’s lips, unblinking. “Starting with this…” He pauses, before softly asking, “Can I kiss you?”

iTrapped’s mind begins to race.

What am I doing? This… is all for the plan, right? Yes, don't get ahead of yourself.

Just kiss him already!

With that, iTrapped hesitates for a moment, then gives a small nod, unable to resist.

Their lips meet softly at first, a tentative brush that sends a shiver down iTrapped’s spine. Then, the kiss deepens, growing more urgent, more demanding. Chance’s hands find iTrapped’s waist, steadying him as he gently but firmly presses him against the wall behind. The faint, intoxicating scent of Chance’s cologne overwhelms iTrapped’s senses, mingling with the warmth spreading through his body.

iTrapped’s hands move of their accord, sliding up Chance’s neck, feeling the heat beneath his skin. He trails gentle kisses along the sensitive curve of Chance’s jaw, before pausing to leave a soft, playful nip—deliberate enough to mark his territory. A faint lipstick stain lingers there, right at the base of his neck.

Chance’s lips part slightly at the sudden movement, and iTrapped responds instinctively, leaning in as their mouths meld together with a deeper urgency. The kiss slows, becoming softer before the passion builds again, more insistent this time. Chance’s hands tighten slightly at iTrapped’s waist, grounding him as their bodies press closer, heat radiating between them.

iTrapped feels Chance’s breath mingling with his own, shallow and quick, and the gentle pressure of Chance’s fingers tracing slow circles on his back. Every brush of their lips, every shared breath, sends sparks coursing through him, igniting a connection he won't dare to admit.

When they finally part, iTrapped is breathless. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and heat blooms fiercely across his cheeks. The sudden rush of adrenaline makes his heart pound in his ears.

Chance chuckles, a light, genuine laugh that seems to echo warmly in the space between them. “Feisty,” he murmurs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I like you.”

iTrapped’s blush deepens, the warmth flooding his cheeks spreading to the tips of his ears. His throat tightens, and words catch in his mouth. He says nothing, instead shifting awkwardly in his seat, the intensity of Chance’s gaze making him suddenly self-conscious.

Then, without warning, Chance places his hand softly on iTrapped’s thigh. His fingers begin to rub against their skin, their touch soft and affectionate, and it eases the tight knot of nerves in iTrapped’s stomach. He blushes even more—he didn't think it was possible.

Still, iTrapped slowly lifts Chance’s hand off his thigh, then gently wraps his fingers around it. He can’t bring himself to pull away—instead, he returns the gesture, tracing slow, soothing circles along the base of Chance’s hand.

Chance’s voice cuts through the silence—low and teasing, but kind all the same. “My, aren’t you the sweetest little thing.”

iTrapped swallows the lump in his throat. His heart flutters wildly, and a small, almost shy smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

Chance lifts his glass, takes the last sip, then sets it down softly. He’s finished his drink. “Why don’t we head back to my place? After you’re done, of course.”

Hearing those words, a sharp spike of panic twists tight in iTrapped’s chest. Does Chance really mean that? Does he want to sleep with him? He… should probably be worried, right? Maybe he should slip something into Chance’s drink, knock him out once they get there—no, no, that would be reckless.

His breath catches. What is he even thinking?

“Uh…” iTrapped stammers, struggling to find the right words. But before he can say more, his eyes snap to someone approaching the bar. It's the last person he ever expected to see—Don Sonnellino.

What is he doing here? He’s not supposed to be here! He used their invite to sneak in! Oh my god, what if he knows? And now he’s walking straight toward them—stance as menacing as ever.

He has to hide!

"I need a moment. Bathroom break," iTrapped blurts out, standing abruptly. "I’ll be right back."

"Er, okay—"

But iTrapped doesn’t wait for a response. They’re already hurrying away from the scene. Chance looks at their retreating figure, surprised.

Well, that was strange.

He glances toward where iTrapped was staring, following their gaze. And then, he sees it too. Don Sonnellino—the head of the Sonnellino family—slides smoothly into the empty seat on Chance’s right.

The bartender nods once, and greets them respectfully. "Boss. Do you want the usual?"

Don Sonnellino nods, his eyes sharp. Consigliere gets to work immediately, and starts to prepare the drink.

The Don turns to face Chance, a predatory gleam in his eye. "You look lonely, gambler. Is the party not entertaining enough for you?"

Chance shrugs. He forces himself to smile, but he can't help but tap his fingers nervously against his glass. "No, no, it’s great... I appreciate the invite."

"Hm." Don Sonnellino leaned in, ever so slightly. His eyes narrowed as they glanced over to the glass beside him. "Drinking without me? What a shame. And here I thought you missed me."

"It’s… not what you think, Don.”

Don Sonnellino’s grin widens, his gold tooth glinting underneath the bar lights.
“I think it’s exactly what I’m thinking. And remember—call me Mafioso, old friend.”

"Friend, huh?" Chance chuckles dryly. "Are you sure you still consider me a friend?”

Don Sonnellino pauses, then takes a slow sip from his glass. "Maybe you’re right... Especially after the incident—after you stole my prize."

Chance bristles, his jaw tightening. "You know it was rigged! I won fair and square!"

Don Sonnellino’s gaze sharpens, and he swirls the liquid in his glass thoughtfully. “I suppose you did.”

“Are you sure you won’t return the prize? I’ve missed it too. Dearly, even.”

Chance laughs softly, a spark of defiance in his eyes. "Nah. It’s too cute. I’ve even given it a name—Spade."

Don Sonnellino nods approvingly. "Fitting." His gaze flickers to Chance’s messy collar and the faint lipstick stain at his neck. "So, when are you planning on introducing me, hm?"

"What—?" Chance begins, then notices his rumpled appearance. The kiss. "Oh. Soon… they’ll be back. Hopefully."

Don Sonnellino chuckles. "Picking up a new partner again, Chance? Wasn’t the last one enough?"

Chance shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "The last one... bailed on me. But this one—I swear, it’ll be different this time."

"Sure, sure..." Don Sonnellino’s laugh softens, though it sounds almost like a sigh. "I wish you the best of luck."

"I don’t need it." Chance straightens his back, his voice firm. “I’m always lucky.”

"Are you sure about that?" Don Sonnellino’s eyes narrow once more, almost a challenge.

But before Chance can respond, another worker approaches them silently—his black cap is pulled low, masking his expression, and his headphones rest loosely around his neck. "Boss. The person impersonating you—we’ve found ’em."

"Good work. Report back to the others… It’s time we taught this imposter a lesson.”

The worker bows before giving a respectful salute. "Yes, sir!"

And when he’s finally out of earshot, Chance lets out a chuckle. "That one seems new. You adopt him or something?"

"Eh. Something like that." Don Sonnellino shrugs, before rising to his feet. "Story for another time."

With that, he smiles one last, flashing his gold tooth. He tips his fedora, and offers Chance a small bow as well. “Enjoy your night, gambler. Here’s hoping you didn’t scare ‘em off, eh?"

"I would never—" Chance begins, but the Don is already gone, slipping into the shadows like a ghost.

Chance exhales deeply, almost frustrated. The nerve of that guy. He glances toward iTrapped’s empty seat. It’s been a while. They couldn’t have bailed, right? No…

He sighs. I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see.

Meanwhile, iTrapped is wandering around the club, panicking. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, and he’s struggling to find the bathroom to hide in. After a few failed attempts, he relents, and asks a nearby server for help. They look out of place, almost odd wearing that black fur-lined hat.

“Excuse me, where’s the bathroom?”

The server snorts, before pointing into the direction leading to the right.

“To the right. It’s a common bathroom—everyone throws up the same,” he mutters, a trace of resentment in his voice.

iTrapped nods silently, before clutching his purse tighter as he weaves through the crowd. Eventually, he spots the door marked “Restrooms” and slips inside, the heavy bass of the club fading slightly behind him.

Once inside, iTrapped closes the door behind him and locks it with a shaky click. His back hits the cool wall, and for a moment he just stands there, breath uneven. The floor looks grimy—probably littered with old vomit stains and god knows what else. The thought makes his stomach churn, and he resists the urge to collapse to the ground Instead, he leans over the sink, placing his palms against it for support.

He catches sight of himself in the cracked mirror—his face heavy with makeup, his lips still stained a deep crimson, and mascara-lined lashes framing his eyes.

Huh. That’s... not bad at all.

He pulls the lipstick from his purse, he reapplies it with slow, deliberate strokes. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Don Sonnellino should be gone by now, right? Yes. I just need to… think of a plan.

He finishes touching up the makeup, smoothing the edges with his fingertips. This time, he places both hands more firmly on the edge of the sink. He stares at his reflection, deep in thought.

Think, iTrapped. Think!

Maybe I should just go to his place. That might be the best chance to get the key—and I wouldn’t have to worry about Don Sonnellino or his minions following me there. Just keep low, stay out of sight, and everything will be fine. Yes, that's what I’ll do.

He straightens his back, and tucks a loose strand of hair back behind his ear. He steps toward the exit, ready to leave, when pounding sounds crash against the door.

“Hurry up! Got an emergency here!” an impatient voice echoes. It sounds like the same server from earlier.

iTrapped exhales wearily and unlocks the door. He peeks out and sees the same server supporting a woman who’s hunched over, pale and shaky, looking like she’s about to vomit.

“Took you long enough,” the server grumbles.

iTrapped says nothing. Instead, he quickly steps out and heads back toward the bar, his eyes carefully scanning the vicinity.

He needs to make sure Chance is alone.

And when he arrives, he sees that Chance still remains seated, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the crowd. Relief floods iTrapped—he’s safe, for now. iTrapped slides back onto the stool beside Chance.

Chance glances at him, a surprised look in his eyes. “Didn’t mean to doubt you,” he chuckles softly. “But I thought you bailed on me.”

iTrapped forces a tight smile, and clutches his fur boa a little tighter. “I would never.” Then, nervously, he adds, “So… how about we get going now? Your place, right?”

“You haven’t finished your drink.”

iTrapped glances down at the glass, nearly full, barely touched. “I... I guess not.”

His throat tightens, and he musters up the courage to lie. He really doesn't want to deal with Don Sonnellino right now. “Whatever… It's fine. I don’t want to have such a terrible hangover in the morning.”

Without another word, iTrapped pushed himself up from the barstool and grabbed Chance’s arm firmly. The sudden movement startled Chance, and his eyes widened for a moment. “Woah, woah! What’s the rush? Are you in a hurry?” Chance asked, stepping up beside him.

“Something like that,” iTrapped muttered under his breath, barely meeting Chance’s gaze.

Chance smiled gently and hooked his arm around iTrapped’s. “Let’s go, then.”

Arm in arm, they walk off, attempting to navigate through the crowd. Suddenly, someone nearby snagged the edge of iTrapped’s dress. He nearly stumbled, caught off guard, and his arm slipped free from Chance’s hold. Panic filled his chest—he couldn’t afford to lose Chance now. Just as the crowd threatened to swallow him whole, Chance’s hand shot out and caught iTrapped’s fingers, pulling him firmly back into his side.

“Careful. Wouldn’t want you getting lost now, love,” Chance whispered, before charmingly winking.

Upon hearing those words, iTrapped’s mouth went dry. He said nothing, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him completely. His heartbeat quickened as his eyes scanned the crowd once more—and then, he froze.

There, not far off, from them, was Don Sonnellino.

iTrapped quickly turned his face away, trying to hide behind Chance’s shoulder. Chance’s brow furrowed in concern.

“Something wrong?” he asked softly.

iTrapped stammered, voice barely above a whisper, “There’s… someone I want to avoid.”

“An ex?” Chance inquired, arching a brow.

iTrapped gave a quick nod. “Mm.”

“Got it,” Chance said with a nod, then pressed iTrapped’s face closer against his chest. His other hand grabbed his own fedora and lowered it carefully onto iTrapped’s head, pulling it down to shield their face from the crowd. iTrapped looked up at him, confused but grateful for the cover.

“Just a disguise,” Chance murmurs, offering them a teasing smile.

iTrapped feels the warmth of Chance’s chest against him, and takes a moment to savor the unexpected comfort. But from the corner of his eye, he spots Don Sonnellino closing in, his presence growing more ominous by the second.

“We have to hurry…” iTrapped muttered urgently, looking up at Chance once more with pleading eyes. He tried to make his voice sound desperate enough to be believable. There's no way he was going to get caught by the Don of all people.

“I really don’t want to see them again. Please.”

Chance’s expression softened at iTrapped’s sudden vulnerability,, and he nodded. “Okay.” He released their hand, giving him a moment to breathe. “Let’s make a run for it.”

iTrapped shook his head, before looking down at his feet. “Can’t.” His voice was strained as he pointed to the heels digging into the ground beneath him.

“Ah,” Chance paused for a moment, an amused grin spreading across his face. “Well, I can fix that.” Before iTrapped could react, Chance swooped him up in his arms, carrying him bridal style, lifting him effortlessly. iTrapped couldn’t help but let out a quiet gasp. They rushed through the crowd, their movements drawing a few startled looks but no one dared stop them. The pounding music and chatter masked their hurried escape.

Finally, they burst through the club’s back exit into a narrow, dimly lit alleyway. Chance set iTrapped down gently, and he hunched over, panting from the sudden sprint.

“Light as a feather,” Chance teased, before wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

“Thank you…” iTrapped murmured, his voice quiet now. He looked away, embarrassed. Clearly, Chance was lying—he looked like he had just run a marathon.

“No problem,” Chance replied, his grin widening. He pointed down the alley, before offering his hand to iTrapped. “My place’s a couple blocks away. Still interested?”

iTrapped accepted it without hesitation.

“Of course.”

All the way there, Chance insisted iTrapped hold his hand firmly, so that he didn't get “lost”. It was a lousy excuse, but iTrapped didn’t dare argue against it. He held their hand the entire way there. He couldn't help it—the warmth radiating from Chance’s hand was steadying, almost comforting.

When they finally reached Chance’s apartment, iTrapped’s jaw nearly dropped. He took in the grandeur of the place, eyes widening slightly as Chance opened the door with a casual flourish. It was huge—far more lavish and spacious than anything Caleb, Ellernate, and iTrapped together could ever afford.

“Like what you see?” Chance asked, a proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I think it's pretty neat, if I do say so myself.”

“It certainly is.”

With that, Chance led him to the entrance, unlocking the door before ushering him inside. Chance hung his blazer on the coat rack, while iTrapped slipped off his heels, placing them carefully in a corner. His feet were aching, burning mercilessly.

God, how did people even wear these things?

Chance gestures to the room. “So… welcome to my place.”

The place was a mess—books piled haphazardly on every surface, a piano squeezed into a corner, poker cards and whiskey glasses strewn about. An open bottle of liquor sat on the counter next to bags of groceries—mostly non-perishables, thankfully. Dirty dishes cluttered the sink.

“Sorry. Honestly, I wasn't expecting a visitor tonight.”

iTrapped forced a tight-lipped smile, masking the scowl tugging at his brow. Yeah, that was no surprise. Who would even expect visitors here? When was the last time he’d even cleaned?

Chance grinned mischievously, eyes sparkling with playful intent. “If you’re staying over, I hope you’re ready to share a bed.”

Oh, right. That.

iTrapped’s fingers instinctively fiddled with the edge of his dress, and that’s when he spotted it—a slight rip near the seam, probably from earlier. His mind spun, weighing his options. Maybe he could knock Chance out or something... Yeah, that would be a good plan. A ridiculous plan. But still, a plan.

Don't be too hasty, iTrapped. Get a fucking grip, for god’s sake!

“I need to… freshen up. You know,” iTrapped murmurs, brushing a loose curl behind his ear as he took a tentative step toward the hallway.

Chance blinked, looking a little puzzled but nodded. “Okay, uh, the bathroom’s down that way.” He pointed down the corridor.

“I see, thanks,” iTrapped replied quickly, already turning and hurrying off before Chance could say more.

“Don’t take too long!” Chance called after him, his voice light, but iTrapped was already disappearing around the corner, his footsteps quickening with every passing second.

Inside the bathroom, iTrapped shut the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then, with shaking fingers, he unzipped the dress from the waist down.

How did anyone breathe in this thing? It was suffocating…

He sighed, desperate for just a moment of relief. Tapping his bracelet, he summoned a flickering screen filled with lines of code. His fingers moved quickly, searching frantically for the command to reset the dress. Finally, with a soft beep, the rip vanished, the fabric smoothing seamlessly as the dress reverted to its original form. He swiped away the screen and decided to leave the zipper down a little longer, savoring the extra air against his skin. Enjoying how good it felt like to be able to breathe.

Maybe he should send Ellernate and Caleb an update of how things were going. How terribly everything was turning out.

His fingers rummaged through his purse, trying to find his phone. After a few seconds of fruitless searching, he begins to panic. He searches in his purse more frantically now, and his heart nearly skips a beat.

There was no way it was—

The bathroom door suddenly swung wide open. iTrapped froze in his tracks, his eyes wide, caught like a deer in headlights.

No fucking way.

He had forgotten to lock the door.

Chance’s jaw dropped, disbelief written across his face. “Uh…”

“Do you mind?” iTrapped hissed, instinctively clutching his chest, heat rising in a flush of embarrassment.

Chance’s sunglasses slid down his nose, and he couldn't help but snap back. “I didn't know you were still inside—”

“GET OUT!” iTrapped snapped sharply.

Without hesitation, Chance backed out, slamming the door shut behind him. iTrapped locked the door again with a shaky hand and exhaled deeply—until the reality of the situation hit him.

He looked down at himself—half-naked, vulnerable.

Oh. He was so fucked.

Not only had Chance seen him like this, but now he knew he was a guy.

Oh my god. He was never getting out of this alive.

Maybe he should just kill Chance.
That would be easier than facing him again.

No. No, you can't just kill him, iTrapped! That won't make anything go away.

Fine. I guess I’ll have to do this the hard way.

He sighs, and after a long, heavy pause, he tapped his bracelet once more. He swipes through the screen, and inputs some code. It reverts his attire to his normal clothes, and removes every trace of makeup from his face. Finally, he takes a deep breath, then steps out of the bathroom, before entering the living room.

Chance was leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed, but his expression was surprisingly calm. The room was cleaner now—he had clearly made the effort to fix things up. His eyes flicked over iTrapped’s new appearance, a flicker of surprise crossing his face—whether from the clothes or something else, iTrapped couldn’t tell.

If this didn’t work out, iTrapped figured that he could always kill Chance later. But honestly? He didn’t feel like cleaning up that mess.

He scratched the back of his neck, ashamed. His fingers awkwardly fumble at the loose strands of his hair as he tries to grasp for whatever confidence he has left. That, and dignity. Well, here goes nothing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie to you,” iTrapped started, his voice already beginning to waver.

“I… was afraid.”

Chance said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on iTrapped as he watched him quietly, arms still folded across his chest.

Swallowing hard, iTrapped clenched his fists briefly before pushing onward, each word feeling heavier than the last. God, this was so embarrassing. “I shouldn’t have lied to you, I just…”

He couldn’t help but wince internally at the nonsense he was about to spew. “I. Like. You.”

Chance raised an eyebrow, the skepticism visible in his eyes. What exactly did he want iTrapped to say? I’m sorry for being a guy?

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay?”

A heavy silence stretched between them, and the tension was thick enough that iTrapped felt he could cut it with a knife. A few seconds pass by, and everything feels almost suffocating—then, suddenly, Chance uncrossed his arms and burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” iTrapped questions, bewildered by his display.

Chance quickly wipes the tears from his eyes, before grinning. “No offense, but of course I knew you were a guy. I see you at the bar all the time, watching me. Also…”

He reached into his pocket, then pulls out a neatly folded handkerchief he had received earlier. He offered it to iTrapped.

“What’s… this?”

“Your ID. From Consigliere,” Chance replied.

“Who?” iTrapped asks, the confusion visible in his expression.

“The bartender.” Chance explains, before peeling back the handkerchief gently, revealing iTrapped’s own face printed clearly on the card beneath.

“He thought you were suspicious or something. Gave me the ID instead.”

“Oh,” iTrapped murmured, his fingers curling around the card as he took it back, the embarrassment blooming on his face.

“Yeah, I knew all this time,” Chance shrugged, acting like it was just a regular occurrence. “I didn’t mean to scare you—I was just trying to find the tablecloth.”

iTrapped nodded. For a moment, he pauses, struggling to take everything in. Then, the realisation settles in, and he buries his face in his hands, almost devastated. “I can’t believe it. Oh my god—”

Chance lifted his hands from iTrapped’s face, his movements slow and careful. “Hey… it’s alright. Don’t stress over it—honestly, it was kind of cute, seeing you all dolled up just for me.”

He reached out slowly, his fingers brushing lightly over iTrapped’s skin before gently cupping his chin. The softness of the touch sent a sudden warmth flooding through iTrapped’s chest, causing his breath to hitch. “I mean, I don't mind,” Chance murmured softly, his words sincere. “You look good either way, sweetheart.”

And iTrapped couldn’t help but admit that in that moment, even he was charmed. He felt the warmth beginning to rise in his chest, and he swallowed hard, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy between them. Chance pulled back just enough to give him space, but his eyes never left from iTrapped’s. Then, with a gentle, reassuring smile, he extended his hand towards them.

“How about we start over then?”

He winked playfully. “I’m Chance. Nice to meet ya!”

iTrapped accepted their hand, but his fingers still couldn't help but tremble slightly. “iTrapped. It’s… a pleasure.”

Chance’s smile deepened, his expression radiating genuine kindness. “What a lovely name.” Then, he lifted iTrapped’s hand to his lips, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Glad you could trust me with it.”

iTrapped’s blush deepened, and his cheeks turned crimson, but he said nothing.

“I noticed you changed. Do you usually wear dresses?”

“No,” iTrapped shook his head, denying the notion quickly. “Not really.”

Chance’s lips curled into a playful pout, and mock disappointment shines in his eyes. “Awww… You looked really good in that, though! Any chance I could convince you to wear it again?”

“No way—in your dreams.”

Chance chuckled. He steps a little closer to them, his grin widening as he met iTrapped’s gaze. “Are you telling me I should dream about you?”

“That’s not what I—” iTrapped sighed, before shaking his head with a reluctant smile. “You got me there.”

Chance’s eyes twinkled with mischief, and he nudged iTrapped playfully with his shoulder. There’s a teasing glint in his gaze. “So, are we still on, or nah?”

“What.” iTrapped asked, his expression fully deadpan. “Don't you dare ask that again.”

“It’s a joke! I’m joking—we can watch a movie instead.” Chance raised his palms in mock surrender, a cheeky grin forming on his face. He turns towards the sofa, before grabbing a soft blanket draped over the armrest. He unfolds it carefully, before offering it to iTrapped. “Saved this for you earlier. I was worried you would feel cold.”

iTrapped accepted the blanket gratefully. For a brief moment, his fingers brushing against Chance, and the small, fleeting contact felt unexpectedly warm. How sweet of him.

“Thank you, Chance.”

With that, Chance sank onto the sofa with a relaxed sigh. He began scrolling through the various television channels with the remote, his eyes thoughtfully thinking over the options.

“Hmm, what to watch…” he murmured aloud.

iTrapped wrapped the blanket snugly around his shoulders, suddenly aware of everything around him. The slightest bit of self-consciousness starts to stir from within him, but beneath it, a surprising sense of comfort lingers—it’s a feeling that he hasn't experienced in a very long time—and it was all because of Chance.

Good thing he hadn’t killed Chance and had decided to talk to him instead…

Chance glanced over, looking back at iTrapped. “Are you going to join me, or…?”

His voice snapped iTrapped out of his thoughts. iTrapped blinked, realizing he was still standing awkwardly beside the sofa. He smiled bashfully before easing himself down next to Chance, settling carefully onto the worn cushions.

Chance flipped through the channels with the remote, continuing to browse through the various options. He slid his arm over iTrapped’s shoulders and gently pulled him closer, their bodies pressing softly together—close enough that iTrapped could feel the steady rhythm of Chance’s breath and heartbeat against him.

And for once, iTrapped didn’t resist. Instead, he leaned into the embrace, allowing himself to be enveloped by the quiet warmth, feeling the tension slowly seep out of his muscles. He rested his head lightly against Chance’s shoulder, and for a while, they sat together—side by side—just the two of them, comforted by one another’s presence.

iTrapped’s gaze flicked from the screen back to Chance. He let out a soft chuckle. “So, when are you going to pick a movie?”

Upon hearing iTrapped’s question, Chance snorted, an amusement sparking in his eyes. “Okay, okay… Just be patient.”

“Fine,” iTrapped murmured, a faint smile on his lips. He settled a little deeper into the sofa, leaning a little closer into Chance’s warm embrace.

After a long moment, he finally musters the courage to speak once more. “Are you sure you’re okay with me being a guy?”

And Chance tore his eyes away from the screen and turned toward him, his smile gentle and reassuring. “Of course. I told you… I don’t mind at all.”

“I… I’m sorry for lying,” iTrapped confessed, his admission more sincere than ever. “I should have been honest with you.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect,” Chance chuckled softly, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Maybe except me!”

iTrapped jabbed him playfully in the side, but even he couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling up.

“Ow,” Chance winced, rubbing his neck with a sheepish grin. “And you, of course!”

"Hmph. That's more like it." iTrapped crosses his arms, pretending to be frustrated. "I can't believe you forgot."

“I didn't!” Chance protests, before pausing for a moment. Their eyes meet his gaze. 

"Still… I'm glad I met you, iTrapped."

"You... are?” iTrapped asks, a surprised expression on his face.

“Of course!” He nods, then smiles brightly. “I would never lie.”

Hearing Chance be so honest, and seeing him so happy is finally what makes iTrapped laugh—it’s a genuine, breathy sound that even surprises himself. The tightness in his chest begins to ease as he allows himself to relax in the warmth of Chance’s embrace. He closes his eyes, and simply lets himself be. For the first time in what feels like ages, the weight of his worries fades into the background, replaced by a fragile yet soothing sense of peace.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

He would worry about the key later and handle any complications when the time came. He’ll update Caleb and Ellernate eventually—just not right now.

Because at that moment, nothing else mattered—all he needed to do was simply enjoy what he had now.

"I'm glad I met you too, Chance."