A/N: This story will contain slash, violence and sexual content (though no rape or sexual abuse). I am looking for a beta so PM me if interested. New chapters are posted only if the previous chapter receives a minimum of 3 reviews

It had started off just as any other normal day for Sam; he had woken up at 8.00am, left his house by half-past and opened his hot dog stand at 9.00 sharp, but something- just a gut instinct- told him that today would be different, that today something unusual would happen.

The morning rush came and left, the busiest time of the day, lunch time, passed and the evening crowds of those leaving work went by with still no strange going-ons.

At 7 o'clock Sam looked at his watch and sighed before slowly starting the pack up of his stand; he turned off grill, locked the freezer of sausages and began putting the few remaining, cooked hot dogs into a plastic container to take home.

Suddenly a cough broke through his mindless and systematic packing, "Excuse me, sir, but I don't suppose you're still open?"

Not bothering to even look at the speaker, Sam replied, "Sorry, as you can see I'm just packing up.

"Try stopping by earlier next time, before seven." The man's voice turned cold, "You won't cook one up just for me?"

This time Sam looked up and caught the stranger's eye; for just a split second the man seemed taken aback but he quickly recovered by flashing him white, white smile that revealed all his sparkling teeth.

Sam just rolled his eyes, he might be gay, but that didn't mean he fell for every charming man that gave him a smile, "As I already said, sir, try again earlier next time."

The smile almost literally fell from the man's face.

In the distance Sam could see his friend Matt walking over, he gave him a small wave before turning back to the man in front of him.

"Do you know who you're talking to, punk?" someone all but growled, it was then that Sam noticed the other two men standing either side of the stranger.

Sam just shrugged and put the lid on his container, "No, and I don't particularly care either. Now if you don't mind, I'd rather like to go see my friend over there and go home."

The growly-man, as Sam had dubbed him in his head, clenched his fists and looked as if he was about to speak again, but something stopped him, "It's quite alright, Conti, I'll stop by tomorrow at an earlier time."

Sam saw the twinkle of amusement in the man's eyes and nodded firmly, "Well then, I'll be off. Seeya tomorrow Mr…" he trailed off; the man gave him a small smile, "Calantini." "Right, Mr Calantini. You have a nice night now."

Sam gave him a beaming grin and with that he left, half-jogging over to where Matt was waiting for him.

Once he reached his friend, Sam found that Matt was looking extremely pale and a little sick.

He looked at his friend in concern, "You alright there, mate?' he asked.

Matt just stared at him with his wide, frightened looking eyes, "What on earth did Calantini want with you?"

Sam frowned, "A hot dog, but I was closed so I turned him away, why? How do you know him?"

Matt gave him an incredulous look, "Are you kidding me? You just turned away Deangelo Calantini, Calantini crime family underboss, from a hot dog."

Sam froze as Matt's words sunk in, "Oh."

Sam woke up the next morning feeling more than a little apprehensive.

He wasn't particularly scared of this Calantini guy, in fact he hadn't even heard of that particular family before; it was Matt who'd wound him up so much.

'He's murdered tons of people,' he'd said, "I heard he even killed his own brother." Sam had scoffed at that, 'I'm serious, man!"

Matt was beginning to freak out, "The dude's ruthless, not to mention all the other illegal activities he's got a finger in; drugs, prostitution, gambling, racketeering-"

"Calm down," Sam cut in, "I'm sure it's not as bad as you make it sound. He didn't even seem at all upset when I refused him service, hell; he even seemed a little amused."

That had set Matt off even more, going on about how it was too dangerous and that Sam should take the next day or two off work.

Sam rolled his eyes in frustration, "Not gonna happen, I need the money too bad and anyway, wouldn't not opening tomorrow just make him angrier? After all, he said he'd stop by."

That shut Matt up. Sam sighed, "Can we talk about something else now?"

Shaking his head, Sam finished off his coffee, removing all thoughts of Deangelo Calantini from his mind, and carried on with his usual morning routine of showering, dressing, brushing his teeth and walking his way down to the hot dog stand.

The moment he got there, he felt that something was wrong. A quick look around, however, revealed nothing unusual and so Sam went on with the setup of his stand.

He unlocked the cupboards and pulled out the condiments, turned on the grill and opened up the freezer. He gasped in surprise. Sitting on top of the stash of hot dogs was a note. He grabbed the piece of paper and quickly scanned it:

Sam Miller,

After having the pleasure of meeting you yesterday evening and watching your friend, Matthew Lewis's reaction, I wish to reassure you that I mean no harm as of yet and I shall indeed stop by today at 4.30pm exactly to buy one of your hot dogs with ketchup and onion. I suggest you have this prepared for my arrival.

Regards, D. Calantini

Sam scowled at the note, crumpled it up and threw it directly into the nearest bin.

As if he would do that, 4.30 was one of his busiest times; that man could wait in line for a hot dog if he really wanted it. And who was he to boss Sam around? Sam wasn't one of his mafia associates or soldiers that he could just order around.

With that in mind, he resolved to ignore Calantini's wishes and carry on as he normally did; Deangelo could suck it.

Smiling, Sam turned to his first customer of the day, "Hello sir, what can I get for ya?" And so it went on.

Despite having made up his mind, Sam still watched time pass with just a hint of nerves.

When it got to 4.29, he almost gave in and made Calantini's hot dog, but quickly shook it off and kept working.

By 5 o'clock Deangelo still hadn't arrived and Sam had relaxed completely.

He flicked on his small radio and hummed along to Bohemian Rhapsody, busying himself with cooking up the sausages for his dogs and grilling onion for the few who wanted it.

Suddenly a voice reached his ears that he instantly recognised; "Sorry I'm late," Calantini gave him one of his blinding smiles as Sam looked up, "I'm afraid I got a little caught up."

Sam shrugged his shoulders and handed a hot dog over to one of the waiting customers, "Don't bother me." He said as he turned to the next person in the queue, a slightly pudgy, middle aged woman.

As he took her order, Deangelo stood there is silence, only speaking up again as the woman grabbed her food, "So where's my hot dog, Sam?"

Sam sighed and turned to face him, "Sorry Mr Calantini but I don't wait around and I don't give preferential treatment, you can wait in line like the rest of 'em."

A look of amused annoyance flashed across Calantini's face, "Call me Deangelo, and I suggest you break your rules just this once, I don't have the time to dilly-dally."

Sam didn't even bother looking back up at him, "Well Deangelo, you either wait in line or go elsewhere, your choice."

At that, Deangelo laughed, "Very well then, just this once we'll do it your way."

He turned dramatically and flounced to the end of the queue.

Sam didn't understand what he was complaining about; there were only three people in front of him.

In just a matter of moments, Deangelo was back standing in front of him, "You have a lot of nerve to talk to me the way you do, boy." his eyes glittered as he spoke.

Sam looked him up and down as he mindlessly put together the hot dog and laughed, "You look like you'd barely be a year older than me, watch who you call boy."

Deangelo smirked as he took his meal, "And how old is that then?'

Sam thought for a moment, "Well I'm 21 so you can't be more than 22, if that."

Deangelo's smirk deepened, "That may be so, but I've been working since I was 15, therefore I'm more mature."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Crime doesn't count as a job."

For a split second, Deangelo's face twisted into rage before it snapped into an easy grin, "You better watch what you say around here, boy, this is my town and it'd do you well to remember that."

With that he turned and headed off to where his cronies were waiting a few metres down the street, "I'll see you tomorrow, Sam, same time, same place." he called over his shoulder.