The Waiter and the Mobster

EVERYTHING WAS WRONG.

Shiloh stared around the room in absolute horror as his soon-to-be husband's great grandmother Catherina Botticelli began to hang various assortments of teal fabric in his face, while pairing it with sky blue, trying to convince him that those colors would look amazing together. Pulling his hair in frustration he nearly growled at the old lady for even thinking of bringing that atrocity out in public. Six other relatives had joined them at the Chapel, where they were discussing seating arrangements, flowers, and of course food. Gritting his teeth together Shiloh reminded himself repeatedly that these people were going to be his family soon so he should value what they have to say, however, there were some things that he just couldn't stomach. For instance, flying doves at the ceremony, neglecting the cost and all the other outrageous expenses, there was no way he was chancing having to duck from Bird poop as he walked down the aisle.

Sighing through his nose, he didn't even want to think about how much it costs to rent the Chapel, the banquet hall, the flowers, and the catering. It gave him a headache just thinking about it. He knew his father couldn't afford any of the expenses, and that he was relying solely on Lucian for income and resources. A part of him hated being so dependent but Lucian made the most money between the two of them since he was only a waiter on the East side at a small restaurant. Although he insisted on paying the bills of the apartment they shared, sometimes he couldn't help but feel inadequate.

His father was Mark Warner, who was running for governor of New York state, but Shiloh knew he didn't like Lucian, so asking for his support was not an option. His father lived in the upper part of New York City with his stepmother and brother, Jacob. Shiloh maintained regular contact with them, but because his father was spending most of his money on the campaign, money was tight.

The sweet old lady in front of him smiles knowingly before lowering the fabric. She was the kindest woman he's ever had the pleasure of knowing. Catherina was still beautiful, hair tousled with thick black curls and smoldering green to match, she was a fierce and fiery creature who adored him. They sat at a long table with Shiloh at the head and she at his right side while the rest of the Aunties and relatives squawked beside them.

"Il mio bravo ragazzo—Shiloh," she said, suddenly impatient. "What is it that you want?" Her accent was thick and at times hard to understand.

"Not that," Shiloh snarled pointing viciously at the piece of fabric.

"We've been through five already," She replied. "How about the red? That would look great with the top hats—"

"No top hats!" Shiloh snapped. "I don't want my wedding to be some kind of comic relief. I just want something…simple, nothing too over the top."

"But Shiloh," Sofia cut in. "All the groomsmen thought it was a good idea to have top hats and Lucian said so too."

Shiloh glared at her and if she wasn't Lucian's mother, he would have said something regrettable.

"No, Kyle and Chris said it was a joke," Shiloh said. "There is no way I am having top hats, no matter how tasteful they seem at my wedding."

The women around him sighed and he knew he was being difficult but the colors were too pink, too gay and the flowers were all wrong. He wasn't a woman. He was a man and he wanted things to be slightly more masculine. Rubbing his temple for the tenth time that day he decided to call a break so that he could go and find Lucian. As he walked through the halls of the church he vaguely started to wonder if this whole idea was a mistake. If he was just way too young to be tying the knot so quickly.

It was six months until the wedding.

Then he'd be Shiloh Botticelli.

Yeah, try saying that ten times fast.

Cursing under his breath he stormed off towards the kitchen to find a said husband who was no doubt charming the pants off the Chef. Over the past month in a half Shiloh had been hanging on by a thread. This wedding was supposed to be his day, not eight of Lucian's aunts and relatives. They had been interfering with his plans, decoration ideas, and family traditions, and all because the wedding wasn't Italian enough for them. They wanted Chiedere la mano—Lucian to ask his father's permission for marriage, a diamond ring that was now welded uncomfortably to his ring finger, and all the other crazy rituals that he couldn't understand. Since Lucian's proposal they had been bombarding him with ideas, and thoughts on how the wedding should go, and since they were family, he didn't have the heart to turn them down, but now he was pissed. When he reached the kitchen, his eyes were blazing when he saw Lucian—handsome as ever—speaking seductively to the Chef in his native tongue. Dressed in a crisp black suit, with matching slacks, the top button of his white shirt was open, hair tousled but styled nicely with gel; he just oozed sex appeal. Lucian stood over six feet tall, his thick black hair was gelled to perfection, as sleek as a seal. His green eyes were as sharp as a falcon's, piercing through his surroundings. His suit was as expensive as a sports car, accentuating his athletic build. Shiloh nearly shuddered as his presence was commanding and confident, exuding power and wealth.

"Hmm," he hummed, in agreement responding to the Chef had said. "Tortellini con prosciutto liscia topping, con il formaggio avrà un sapore aboslutely divina—"

"Lucian," Shiloh said crossly interrupting him. "I need to speak with you in private."

"Il mio amore—Just give me one second, we are discussing the menu—"

"Now Lucian," Shiloh snapped boorishly, he turned and walked out of there towards an empty room. As he paced the room impatiently, he could hear Lucian apologize profusely before joining.

"Shiloh, what is it? You know we only have limited time to discuss what we want—"

"Exactly!" Shiloh said throwing his hands up in frustration. "We only have limited time because this whole thing is rushed."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your family is driving me crazy." Shiloh snarled running his hands through his hair. "Everything is wrong! Nothing is right, the colors are all messed up, and Tuxedos with tails for our wedding day, seriously!? You guys are going to look like penguins! I hate it! I hate it!" He felt himself becoming flustered as tears formed in his eyes before spilling over.

"Shhhh, calm down," Lucian cooed, taking his hands. "You love me, don't you?"

Shiloh nodded.

"Then you'll marry me in a potato sack."

Shiloh wrinkled his nose causing Lucian to laugh.

"I want everything to be perfect," Shiloh said brushing tears away. "I love that they are so involved but I need to do things my way."

"Come here," Lucian said pulling him into a tight embrace. "Il mio bel ragazzo—I will talk to them. I don't like that they've upset you."

Shiloh smiled weakly. "It's not their fault. I'm just being overly sensitive that's all. You know me, classic Diva."

"My Diva," Lucian said kissing him firmly on the mouth. Sighing into the kiss Shiloh placed his arms around his lover's neck, enjoying the feeling of hard muscles pressed against his. The comforting kiss soon turned heated as Shiloh found himself being backed into the nearest wall while Lucian attacked his lips. Shiloh moaned, he arched his hips, as the warmth of Lucian's roaming hands seeped through his clothing. When Lucian smacked his ass he yelped, his eyes shot open and he stared down at his lover.

"The things I will do to you tonight... However, we've got a wedding to plan sweetie," Lucian said pulling away.

Shiloh was uncomfortably hard in his jeans and he knew that his lover did that on purpose. "You'll pay for that Botticelli."

Lucian licked his pink lips. "I hope so."

With lust-filled eyes, they gazed at each other until Lucian's ringing phone broke their trance.

"Dammit," Lucian cursed staring at the screen. "It's work. I'll probably have to go in."

"Now?" Shiloh sputtered. "You can't just go I need you here, I can't do this alone!"

"I know—ti prego perdonami—I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise," Lucian replied, he abruptly grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles affectionately. "Make sure to keep things hard and waiting for me," He teased.

Shiloh ripped his hand away and shoved him playfully. "Just get out of here."

"Fine," Lucian smirked. "I love you."

"Love you too," Shiloh called as he left the room.

Smiling to himself he wiped the residual tears from of face and pushed that nagging feeling in his gut down. It wasn't that he didn't trust Lucian, because he did—totally and completely it was just that sometimes he got the feeling that his lover wasn't being completely honest with him. He never did understand the secrecy between all of the men that worked for Lucian, or why he was never allowed to visit him at work.

You should be in school. A voice whispered to him.

Shiloh had given up on his dream of attending Julliard after applying several times and receiving no response. Over time, he convinced himself that it was okay, that he didn't mind his job as a waiter, and that eventually he could find a school he liked.

Shrugging it off he tried to occupy his thoughts with more important things.

Like his big fat gay Italian Wedding.