Philo [MXM] [BOOK 2] ✓

CHAPTER 22: OTHER WOMAN

Dew, you have problems.

Dew half limps to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen. He's not even sure what the best medication to get rid of this ache is, and he's not about to use a cream, but it's slowly starting to get better. It's not subsiding completely, but the more he moves around, the more his body adjusts. He pops an Advil, since that's usually what he takes when he's in pain, and hopes for the best.

Dew makes himself a bowl of breakfast, then walks into the living room and turns on the TV. He immediately flicks through the channels, eventually landing on a cartoon, and starts to eat the cereal.

Oh god, are things going to be awkward now? Are they ever going to fuck again? Dew has no idea what to expect here. Usually Rowan wouldn't treat the people he had sex with very well the morning after, if Dew is judging by all the yelling and anger. So... is that how it's going to be with Dew? Is he going to kick him out? No, he seemed pretty intent on Dew not leaving yesterday... but...

Dew sighs, finishing his cereal pretty soon and walking into the kitchen, rinsing out the bowl and putting it in the dishwasher. Afterward, he goes back to the couch and curls up with a blanket. He's trying to limit movement so as to not put himself in more pain than he already is.  Although, for some reason, the fact that the pain is from sex with Rowan has him not minding it all that much, because he's fucked in the head. The Advil sort of helps, he realizes after a few hours go by and the pain has lessened minutely. He can at least walk normally.

Dew just watches TV for the next few hours, and Spikes jumps up onto the couch with him. He gets lost in the cartoons, but his heart practically stops beating in his chest when he hears the door open.

Dew's eyes widen, and he stops breathing. Oh god, he's gonna have to face Rowan. Dew ducks down on the couch, hoping that Rowan won't see him. He hears the captain follow his usual. Going to his bedroom, most likely changing out of his work clothes, and then walking back into the kitchen. He hears Rowan taking out the stuff he needs to make dinner, and Dew takes a deep breath.

Okay, Dew. Don't act any different. Just follow your normal routine, okay?

Dew sits up on the couch, peeking over the headrest. He can't really see into the kitchen very well, but Rowan's shadow is visible.

Dew stands up, bringing the blanket with him for comfort, and walks to the kitchen. He spots Rowan immediately facing the stove, away from him, and he quietly takes a seat on his usual stool. Rowan is wearing only sweatpants, as usual, and Dew curses his heart for beating faster at the view of the captain's back muscles. It's not Dew's fault shoulder blades are hot. He didn't design people.

Wait. Oh no, apparently sex did nothing, Dew's still gonna ogle the guy every chance he gets.

Rowan is cooking, and he appears to be making chicken. Folding his arms on the counter, and resting his head on them, Dew keeps the blanket wrapped around himself as he decides to follow his typical procedure as well.

"So how was work?"

Rowan glances at him as he takes out some spices, then averts his attention back to his cooking. "Fine."

Dew takes a deep breath to ease his nerves. Why is he so nervous? He has never been nervous talking to someone after fucking them. Why is Rowan so goddamn different?

"Did anything happen?"

Rowan doesn't look up, spicing the chicken. "Not really."

Dew rolls his eyes. He doesn't even know why he's trying to make conversation. This guy never participates.

"Well, I didn't go to work today," Dew starts talking, purely to fill the silence and ease his nerves. "They didn't seem to care, which is pretty cool. At Bandy's, stupid fucking Nick would have ordered a hit on me. I swear to god, if I didn't quit I'd definitely be dead by now."