The So-called Boyfie | MewGulf ✔

Part 9 💖

^ Pc to the rightful owners

Gulf stood in front of Mew's apartment door, nervously biting his lower lip. He held his hand up to knock three times before he turned around to go back to Perth's apartment. He turned around again and went up and knocked on Mew's door. He was not a coward.

Mew answered the door, looking confused as he stared down at Gulf.

The boy had never looked so beautiful, teeth marks on his lower lip, a fresh tee-shirt and board shorts, sandals on his feet. He looked up at Mew with large eyes free from the hair that was pulled a bit up.

Gulf felt the ocean in his ears as Mew stood in the open doorway, his business shirt halfway unbuttoned and all the way untucked, his cuff links out of his shirt sleeves, and his hair slightly rumpled. "Gulf," Mew's deep fuck me voice startled him, "What are you doing here?"

"I come bearing gifts from Perth, sweet cheeks," Gulf said. He tried not to blush calling Mew that nickname, but he knew that his face was turning red.

Why was Gulf calling Mew that dreaded nickname from Perth? He hated being called sweet cheeks, it made him feel like such a little kid. His mom called him sweet cheeks when he was upset or when he had a bad day at school, and he hated it then, too.

He nodded, trying to figure the whole thing out, and he held the door open so that Gulf could walk into his apartment. He was intrigued by Gulf's red face, but he did not want to push to find out what had made him that color. He thought Gulf might be embarrassed by it, and Mew was sure Perth had put him up to it.

The apartment was possibly the most boring looking room Gulf had ever seen. The couches were white, the walls were white, the coffee table was white, the television was black, but it looked like it had never been used, the kitchen was white, the kitchen table was white...

"I'm sensing a theme with your décor," Gulf said like a smartass, looking around the room. He hoped he was not leaking sand-like always.

"It's easy to keep clean, and if I have to replace anything the color doesn't go out of style," Mew defended himself.

Gulf sighed. "This place sucks, Mew. It's like a hospital."

Mew sighed. "If I let my mom decorate it, she'll hold it over my head until I die," he found himself confessing.

Gulf felt extremely nervous about taking spaghetti into an all-white apartment, but Mew took the Tupperware from his hands and heated himself up a plate, carried it across the white carpet, and sat on the white couch to eat it.

"You are such a brave man," Gulf almost whispered, fighting the urge to follow Mew around with a roll of paper towels.

Mew twirled the noodles on the tines of his fork Italian style, looking up at Gulf. "How was your shopping trip today?" he asked, slipping the fork into and out of his mouth, eating neatly and efficiently.

Gulf tried extremely hard to not stare at the utensil slipping between Mew's lips as he answered. "I think we spent about two thousand dollars buying clothing for me."

"Two thousand, three hundred forty-seven dollars and fifty-three cents," Mew agreed. "I got an app that shows me my bank account balance up to the minute," he told Gulf. "Does the clothing fit? Does it suit you?"

Gulf blinked a few times. "Yeah," he answered. Was Mew mad about the amount of money that Perth had said was necessary for his role as Mew's mistress?

"Good," Mew reached for a glass of red wine on his white coffee table. He took a few sips, and then set the glass back down. Gulf winced the entire time. "Do you have any questions that you need to ask me about your job? Perth does a particularly good job of answering people's questions, but sometimes people also need to know about the business. I am exceptionally good at business," Mew explained.

"You've mentioned that" Gulf said, studying Mew. "What else are you good at?"

"What?" Mew asked.

"You're good at business. What else are you good at?" Gulf wanted to know.

"Math," Mew answered.

"No, that has to do with business. What do you do when you're not taking care of business?"

Mew blushed. "Nothing," he answered too quickly.

Gulf could sense that this was a very personal question for Mew, and he wanted to push so that he could find out, but he knew that it would be better to wait. "I want to paint your walls," Gulf said. "I want to leave everything else white, but let me paint the walls in your apartment," he said, looking around the room.

The architecture was great, arched doorways and little built-in bookshelves that were empty, coffered ceilings in the living room, and a deeply recessed ceiling in the kitchen. Gulf's imagination was painting the walls as he made the request of Mew. "What?" Mew asked.

"I want to paint your walls. Will you let me?" Gulf asked again.

"Yeah, sure," Mew agreed, taking his empty plate and glass to the sink, and Gulf winced again as the potentially staining substances were taken carelessly across the white carpet and floor. Mew did not spill a drop though, and it was one of the most amazing things Gulf had ever seen.

Scratch that, Gulf thought. Watching Mew roll the sleeves of his shirt back so that he could wash his dishes was one of the most amazing things Gulf had ever seen. Gulf found himself swallowing rather loudly at the sight of Mew's wrists and forearms, but fortunately, Mew could not hear it as he had the water running at the time.

"When can I come over to do it?" Gulf asked, pushing a little. Part of seducing Mew was going to require being in the man's presence more than however often Mew was going to need him to be his fake boyfriend.

Mew opened one of the white cabinet doors and took something off a hook. He threw it at Gulf, who reached a hand up to catch it. "My security number is 8379*. You must hit it within a minute and a half of entering; otherwise, the police will be here with guns pointed at your head. Come over any time," Mew said. "I won't be here very often, so you shouldn't feel like you're in the way."

Gulf stared at the house key in his hand in kind of wonder. "You don't mind me having this?"

Mew shrugged, sitting back on his couch. "If it makes you more comfortable around me, it's good for business."

Gulf wanted to scream. It was another business decision. He made himself calm down and then decided that no matter what the motivation was for Mew's action he was going to take advantage of it. He nodded his head and stood up. "I'll be over tomorrow, then," he announced.

"Are you going to take that van? Do you think it will make a four-hour drive from the coast?" Mew asked.

Gulf stopped, having forgotten about his car. "Oh," he said, thinking. Maybe Saint would let him borrow...

"Here," Mew said, throwing another ring of keys at Gulf. "Take the Jag. You and Saint can drive yourselves back to the beach, and then you can come up here tomorrow. If that is okay..." Mew asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's great," Gulf tried not to gasp. "I'll be here tomorrow."

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I hope you like the chap!

Just to clear things up, Perth has periods bcz he can give birth.. And not everyone is blessed with it.. I just missed Aepete (Perth Saint) sorry if that makes you uncomfortable!

Will try to make better chapters from now on.

Sorry fr the mistakes!

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