Sopranos fanfiction

 Title: "Can He Do the Things I Do?"
Ship: Tony Soprano/Silvio Dante
Summary: A short and silly fic about Tony being jealous because Silvio enjoyed the backrub he got from Tony B.


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Silvio had honestly been surprised about how pissed off Tony got at his cousin for the whole massage incident. It was no big deal; the guy knew what he was doing. If that’s what he’s bringing to the (massage)table, then his dreams of a salon are not that farfetched. Sil knows plenty of guys who needs to have their backs worked over that he can send Tony B’s way.

The idea of a massage parlour for wise guys, the kind without happy endings, might be silly, but it definitely is a marked for it. Small as it may be.

But then again Tony’s anger might be more related to the flippant tone Tony B had used with him. He might have played it as a joke, but he had called Tony fat in front of a lot of guys at the Bing, and despite generally acting nonchalant about what he looks like, Sil can tell that Tony does not like people pointing it out.

He could sympathise with that.

He pokes at the remnants of his dinner and begins to shovel the last pieces into his mouth. No use in keeping them as leftovers.

Tony looks like he’s still in a bit of a mood, wordlessly picking at his own dinner, and occasionally glancing over at Silvio. A couple of times, he acts like he’s about to say something, then drops it. Silvio don’t want to rush him, if he’s got something on his mind, he will share it with him when he’s ready.

As he’s swallowing down the last mouthful and pushing his plate away, Tony looks up at him again.

“Was Tony B actually that good?”, he asks. Not the question Silvio was excepting. Tony’s still stabbing at his dinner, more playing with it than actually eating it. Giving Silvio a look that’s a bit hard to read.

But he thinks he might understand now.

Silvio shrugs, honestly mulling it over. “He knew what he was doing”, he settles on. Tony huffs, and rubs the back of his neck, clearly not satisfied with the answer. “Yeah, I mean he’s got training and his books and all, but…”, he trails off, looking like he’s hunting for words. “Did you enjoy it?”. He settles on.

“I did”, Silvio says slowly, thruthfully, “his training has paid off”.

“Yeah, yeah good he’s not been wasting his time I guess”, Tony says, trying to sound more up-beat about it.

After a few awkward beats of silence, Silvio gets up from his chair and walks over to Tony’s desk. Reaching out he puts a hand on Tony’s slumped shoulder, and gently rubs his thumb back and forth in a soothing manner. “Despite his talent, I can’t imagine going to him with this again”, he says. Tony looks up at him and shrugs. “You should if it’s helping you”.

“What he did was very professional”, Silvio explains, “but, I do enjoy it more when it has a personal touch”. He squeezes Tony’s shoulder meaningfully. Tony gives him one of those small soft smiles and relaxes under his hand.

“So, he can’t do the things I do then?”, Tony asks, playfully cocky. “He can’t”, Silvio confirms seriously. Leaning down he aims for a kiss to Tony’s cheek and catches the corner of his mouth instead. That happens all the time.

With the air cleared between them, Tony relaxes and actually begins eating his dinner. Silvio gives him another kiss, to the forehead this time. He feels oddly pleased about Tony wanting to be the only one who gives him backrubs.