Her Brother, My Master (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Twenty Five

[Miguel Andorran] / [Ryuu Ando] 

We were sitting in the dark on the sofa watching the night TV. ([A/N] I have no idea what plays at night [we don't have a television in my home.])

Mylo sat huddled around a mug of decaffeinated tea he'd made himself, I don't drink tea and I don't get why people do but there was something sweet about the fact that he did.

He looked at the television terrified. Some poor druggie was hallucinating while getting a leg cut off by a sociopath in a hilariously stereotypical dungeon.

I mean it would be less funny if the dungeon wasn't this ancient looking lair with chains and old grey stone walls, dripping ceilings and manacles nailed to each wall, theatrical blood smeared on every implement in the room.

Eventually his friend comes in to rescue him and at this point I'm not sure why because the druggies always die even if the protagonist manages to save them once of twice.

Mylo was sitting, hilariously tense, he squeaked at every jump-scare and I could see him peer shyly to look at me, probably hoping I hadn't heard him. Obviously I had and he knew that but I spared his pride and didn't tease him for it.

Besides, I didn't want him to stop, it was somehow incredibly endearing.

He finally breathed out when the red-haired protagonist finally managed to drag out his newly amputated friend into the open and successfully call for an ambulance.

It was clear we were nearing the end of the film, we'd started watching half way through but it was obvious it wasn't going to last much longer.

Mylo shivered next to me and I assumed he must be cold, my family keep their blankets in a drawer under the sofa, which is pretty neat.

"Legs up," I told Mylo, who put his mug on the table and lifted his legs, I pulled out a checkered blanket and wrapped it around him snugly.

When I was done I looked up to see him staring at me with wide open adoring eyes, like I'd just hung the moon for him.

I can't deny that I love the way every little thing I do seems to be almost overly-appreciated. It felt good, a lot of the time in Japan it feels like I can spend a month on a single song working longer than most blue collar workers and from ridiculous hours in the morning only to be told I don't have a real job and everyone else is doing all the work.

Appreciation is not something you get as a celebrity, just a lot of love for all the wrong things.

Mylo made me feel good, really good. And I had to stop to take a look at myself, what am I doing? Wrapping my boy up in a blanket, taking care of him, that's normal, but I was adoring every detail... Would I have noticed if any other boy was cold ... or would I have even cared?

I was pulled out of my thoughts when I realized Mylo had leaned over, and before I had any time for dirty assumptions I felt the warm blanket stretch around both of us.

I stared at him as he tucked me in, this incredible feeling of elation washing over me, I loved him taking care of me, not like a dominant takes care of their submissive, but how a submissive might take care of their dominant.

Made of careful, gentle touches and the eagerness to please.

I wondered if what I felt was in any way similar to what he did.

I tucked his body against mine and felt the way we fit just perfectly against each other. I could feel his skimpy clothing against my skin and it was a pleasant reminder of the treasure underneath that I couldn't wait to unwrap.