The So-called Boyfie | MewGulf ✔

Part 16 💖

^Pc to the rightful owner

Mew made sure that he took his Dramamine, placing the pill on his tongue, and holding the water up to his lips so that he could drink. He held Gulf the entire time that he slept, Gulf knew because he kept waking up despite the potent drug, holding onto Mew's waist tightly, panicking any time that Mew moved to adjust his Tablet screen to turn a page on its e-reader or to compensate for the glare while he was watching a movie. Mew would shush him and hold his head to his chest so that Gulf knew he was there.

Their arrival in France had them stopping at a hotel for a layover, and Mew put Gulf to bed. The medication was knocking him out so badly, but he whimpered any time Mew was not near him.

"Don't make me fall in love with you, my brave boy," Gulf heard Mew whispering.

"Don't make me hurt."

Gulf woke up to the smell of fresh-baked bread, stinky cheese, and potent wine sitting on the nightstand next to the bed.

He got up, famished, and he ate while he searched the apartment for Mew. He looked out the window at the cobbled streets, watched people ride by on bicycles and in tiny, stinky cars. It was raining, which was kind of disappointing because it was Paris and Gulf had always wanted to walk the streets of the city of artists. He contented himself with tearing the crusty bread apart with his fingers into bite-sized pieces and settling in an overstuffed chair so that he would watch the rain falling on umbrellas and people rushing through the streets.

Mew came in, finding his man staring out the rain-drenched window. "Hey," he said softly, not wanting to ever lose the perfect image of Gulf posing near the window with his feet curled underneath him. He would remember this moment forever.

Gulf looked over at him, a myriad of stories written on his face. "Hey," he almost whispered, shocked once again at Mew's beauty. He was not sure he would ever get over it.

Mew walked into the room, feeling self-conscious now that he was alone with Gulf now. It felt strange to be in the same room with a conscious Gulf, alone for the first time after their emotional scene in the Moscow airport.

"Thank you," Gulf said softly.

Mew looked up at him.

"Thank you for coming for me," Gulf got more specific.

Mew looked confused. "I don't know why you think I wouldn't have come for you."

"No one ever has before," Gulf said, finding it impossible not to explain to this man how much his action had meant to him. "You came for me."

Mew's eyes searched Gulf's face, trying to figure out how to respond. He decided to settle for the truth. "I will always come for you," he said, his heart beating so quickly that he wondered if he was going to have a heart attack or pass out.

Again, it was not just sex that was between them, which made the atmosphere so incredibly powerful. Mew took the chair across from Gulf, and they spent the evening staring at the rain.

--

Perth sat back in his chair after Mew had called him from the Parisian hotel lobby. Did he not know how much Perth worried every time he left the country? They had such powerful enemies, why did Mew take the chances that he took? What would happen if their enemies finally got the upper hand and had the opportunity to destroy his dear brother? It would be over so quickly. What would he do without Mew?

Perth took a deep breath. He knew one day that he would have to be brave and stand up on his own, but Mew let him lean on him for so long now that it was second nature to panic any time he was in danger. He loved him, too, more than anything else in the world.

He wondered what Gulf's parents' phone number was because they should probably be told that their son had been held in Russian custody for a period of thirty minutes, but that he was safe in Paris now. He rethought that because he remembered that Gulf had mentioned that he had never left the place before. He figured he should call Saint to see what he thought about it and to get Gulf's parents' phone number if he thought that he should call them.

Who was he kidding? He could admit the reason he really wanted to call Saint to himself, even if it was to no one else, couldn't he?

The phone rang a few times, and Perth almost lost his nerve and hung up before Saint picked up. "Sawadekaap," he greeted him.

Perth rolled his eyes. "I know that word," he told him.

"There's no fooling the princess," Saint teased him over the phone.

"Princess?" Perth asked, and then he made that motion with his hand, batting away dandelion seeds. "Listen, I was just calling you to get your opinion on something."

"I have a lot of opinions," Saint said, and Perth could see him smiling just like he could see his hand motion.

"Mew and Gulf were taken into Russian custody..."

"Are they all right?" Saint demanded before Perth could finish his sentence.

"Yes, but..."

"Were they hurt? Do they need us to go over and get them?"

"Saint, just listen..."

"Are you all right? Do I need to come over?"

"Saint!" Perth shouted into the phone. "They're all right, they're safely ensconced in Paris..."

"Are you okay?" Saint repeated himself.

"I'm fine, it took me a minute to get the Russian police involved when I saw that Mew had pushed his panic button..."

"Who did it?"

Perth sighed, settling deeper into the sofa. He felt safer now that someone who knew the entire story was sharing time with him. "It was daddy's men. I had to call the American Ambassador in Russia, and then he had to pull in favors with the mob so that the police would get involved... politics in Russia are so bad..."

"The role you two are playing is dangerous, Perth. You need to be more careful, or you could get hurt," Saint couldn't hide the concern in his voice, and for the briefest second Perth entertained hope. He crushed it strongly under an imaginary rock though before he answered. He knew how dangerous desire was. Besides, Saint was also gay, but he and his brother were in love.

"Our role is necessary, Saint. You know that. Someone must make up for the decisions that daddy has made. It might as well be Mew and me."

"I don't like you in this position. I have told Mew about it, but he said that it was your decision. You're too young... and it's too dangerous for a boy that looks like you..."

"Saint, I'm almost flattered," Perth said dryly. He mentally made himself stare at the shattered pieces of hope that lay at his feet. They hurt almost too much for him not to hang up immediately so that he could get control of himself. Calling him had been such a bad idea.

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