The So-called Boyfie | MewGulf ✔

Part 6 💖

^PC to the rightful owner (its just cute uwu)

He was staring at the ground so he didn't see Gulf's face fall. "Oh, I thought I was just a fill-in until you found someone permanent?"

"What?" Mew asked, startled. He looked up to search Gulf's face. "No, I thought you were my new lover?"

Gulf's breath caught in his throat for all of thirty seconds before he could breathe again. "Saint said I was just temporary until you found someone more... professional..."

Mew didn't want a professional. He wanted Gulf. "I would like it if it was you," Mew said, pulling on his collar. "I think that you and I work well together. We're good at faking it together."

Gulf might have stayed if it weren't for that last sentence. "It's not my usual line of work. I don't even know what you do..."

"I'm a businessman. I take advantage of business opportunities," Mew said.

"It's dangerous if you don't want to use my real name..."

"Yes. Yes, it's dangerous. But I still want you... to work for me," Mew's brain kept him in self-preservation mode. He had to make Gulf think that it was about the job because he didn't think that Gulf would be interested in him. He had to do anything to make Gulf want to keep working for him. He obviously didn't want to hang out with Mew as friends if he asked why Mew had come by that night, anyway.

Gulf paused, trying to figure out why this man would want him and not a professional. Maybe it was because he wasn't a professional. Saint wasn't a professional, and Mew had obviously liked him well enough to keep him for almost an entire year. Or maybe Mew was keeping Gulf because it would make Saint stay in contact with him. Maybe Mew really wanted Saint?

Gulf sighed. It was good money. He could really use some new art supplies, and he was going to have to get a new vehicle soon, his old van wasn't going to last much longer. "Yeah, I'll work for you."

Mew smiled, but Gulf didn't feel like smiling back so the smile fell. "Well then... um..." Mew ran a hand through his hair. He pinched his lower lip and he cleared his throat. "I'll send the helicopter around tomorrow about noon? You're going to need some things for your job, so I'll make sure that Perth sets you up with the right things, okay?"

Gulf nodded. "Yeah, sure," he said.

He and Mew made awkward good-bye noises at each other, and then Mew was gone. Gulf sighed, driving his van through the one street in the middle of the beach to his and Saint's home. He parked the van in the carport attached to Saint's house, and got out, throwing his blanket into the outdoor washing machine.

He stumbled his way into the beach house, exhausted since he had been up since four-thirty that morning to go swimming, full from the food he had gotten after he told the manager that he thought that Mew was The One that he wanted to impress for the rest of his life, and then heartbroken when he realized that Mew didn't feel the same way about him.

Saint wasn't even home to complain to about Mew when Gulf turned on the lights and got himself a glass of Jack Daniels. He took a quick shower, promising that he was going to get himself some sort of drain catcher the next day to keep all the sand and salt out of Saint's pipes.

He swung into his cot, promising that he was going to actually sleep tonight. He shut his eyes against the sound of the surf, rocking a little bit back and forth as his eyelids got heavier.

How was he going to resist Mew the next day? Would Mew even show up? Maybe Mew would call in the morning to see if Saint wanted to come along, and then when Gulf was getting all prettified for him the two of them could sneak off. Maybe Saint quit because Mew didn't want him in danger anymore.

So was it really the money that had him doing this job? No, Gulf had to admit. He wanted Mew.

There. He had said it. He wanted Mew. The initial attraction was easy enough to admit to, anyone with eyes would be attracted to Mew so Gulf didn't feel bad admitting that he was attracted to him. It wasn't just the want to possess his beauty though. Gulf wanted his smile and his dorky laugh. He wanted those times tonight when Mew paused before answering Gulf's questions to be filled with thoughts of him. He wanted memories with Mew as Perth had.

Maybe Gulf could use this job to convince Mew that he wanted Gulf, too. Maybe Gulf could just flirt a little here or there, and maybe he could take advantage of their next undercover date thingy to kiss Mew's skin. He wanted to attack that one patch right below Mew's ear, it had been calling to him all day and Gulf had fought with the desire to run his tongue over it all night. It had been the most wonderful terrible sensation Gulf had ever felt.

Gulf sighed with frustration, wanting to hit something but he was frustrated at not being around anything solid enough to do it. Maybe he could use some of the money he was making with Mew to buy himself a real bed. It would make moving to a new house harder, but a mattress might just be the thing that he needed.

Damn, wouldn't he love to share a mattress with Mew? Gulf briefly thought about what he would do with Mew on a mattress, wondering if there would be anything nearby to tie the man up with so that he would be at Gulf's mercy, and he felt his face turning so red that he had to cover it up with the stuffed monkey he slept with every night. After all, he had told Mr. Thompson, the manager of the restaurant, that he thought Mew was The One, Gulf tried to justify his thoughts.

He was thinking about buying a mattress for the man, though. He might as well admit that to himself. He wondered what it might mean. Was he ready to settle down for this man? What was Mew turning him into? Someone who wanted another person permanently in his life?

Gulf wasn't like that, he hadn't had anyone in his life on a permanent basis since... well, he couldn't remember. There was that foster home... he had lived there for three years, but he really couldn't remember their names. He thought that they were nice people, but he had been seven when he left them. Then it had been a series of foster homes and state-run homes and temporary homes and other fancy words for kid Hotel Bangkok that he kept getting sent back because of various reasons. Gulf had never really misbehaved, but he never connected with any of his foster family because it was never permanent.

Gulf sighed. Foster kids did not make good family members. He had been told that over and over again, and even other foster kids had made jokes about it. Why don't families want to keep their rented kids? No one likes to buy something used and thrown away. They didn't know how to be family, so they would never have one. Gulf knew the rules of throw away kids who used big black trash bags for their suitcases.

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Double update coz ILY!! ❤❤

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