Page 129 of Xerxes Ascendant
Three weeks later
Kyle was woken by the scent of coffee and the brush of soft lips against his.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Akira murmured.
Kyle reached out blindly for him, tugging his boyfriend close and letting out a disgruntled whine when his fingertips met fabric. “You’ve got clothes on,” he complained. “I don’t like it.”
Akira’s chuckle met his ears, low and amused. “Then get up when I do, and you can order otherwise.”
“I don’t like that either.” Waking up at the freakishly early time of 7pm was not Kyle’s idea of fun. “Can’t I just order you to stay in bed instead?”
“Thankfully at least one of us is aware that a business cannot be run with their eyes closed for most of the day.”
Kyle reluctantly cracked his open to find his sardonic boyfriend and boss smirking back at him from only inches away. “I’m in recovery.”
“Pray tell, fromwhat?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten how hard I worked last night, pet? Iexhaustedmyself to give your masochist littleheart the pleasure it demanded and begged for, and this is the gratitude Sir receives?” The feigned indignance in his voice faded into laughter when Akira shivered at the reminder, and he reached around to slap his disrespectful submissive hard on that undoubtedly still-tender ass. “Mirror.”
Akira obediently removed his knee from the bed and glided over to stand before the mirror, carefully watching his reflection. In his full suit, including waistcoat and tie, Master Epsilon cut a formidable figure.
“I’m safe. I’m a good person. I deserve to be happy,” he assured his mirror-self.
“Good kitten.”
“Meow,” Akira agreed. In one fluidic move he dropped to a crouch on the floor and cocked his head, peering up at Kyle curiously. Then he batted a curled hand through the air to mimic a paw.
“Oh,kitten,” Kyle breathed.
The first tentative, enquiring step towards him soon gave way to an arrogant feline strut, and Kyle could almost see the pleased flick of his imaginary tail as Akira sprang up onto the bed and pounced on the blanketed lump that was Kyle’s feet. He hissed when they moved beneath the covers, eyes narrowing to suspicious slits, and it was only with gentle coaxing that he agreed to pad up the length of the bed towards Kyle’s outstretched hand.
“Such a good kitty.”
Akira purred and settled in next to him on the pillow, first nipping at his fingers and then, satisfied he’d showed the human who was boss, permitting a stroke of his silky hair.
Kyle couldn’t stop his absurdly wide grin. He scratched behind his oversized cat’s ears and then began to pet his head and neck, quickly learning how he liked to be touched from the way he wordlessly arched towards him or bit at his hand.He liked Kyle’s fingers running through his hair the most, for it made Akira preen and snuggle in closer. Kyle could feel his contented purrs resonating through them both.
His boyfriend was an incredible actor. He must have been closely observing how their real cats moved, for Kyle recognised each of their mannerisms in the way his new kitten yawned, stretched, and batted impatiently at him for more petting, but there was also some personality that was uniquely Akira in there too. The miffed little glower he wore when Kyle teased him about his lack of fluffy ears – with a mental note to imminently acquire him some, as well as a long, sleek tail that Akira would look fuckingstunningwearing – and the haughty toss of his head that was beyond even what Chaos could pull off.
“I love you,” Kyle said happily.
His kitten’s mouth opened. Closed. Meowed plaintively, clearly annoyed he couldn’t respond in turn.
Kyle gave him a slow, lazy kiss. “Really, really love you.”
Akira wrinkled his nose in objection. But the long legs that stretched over Kyle’s were relaxed, at peace...and surprisingly not even trying to kick him out of bed.
Which, damn him, meant Kyle had to be responsible for once. He groaned and gave his boyfriend one last pat and kiss on the head, before dragging himself out from under the covers and to the waiting but now cold coffee.
He picked it up, admiring the slightly faded image of a studded submissive collar emblazoned across the ceramic, along with the wordsThis mug isn’t the only thing I own.
By the time Kyle had gotten dressed, Akira had made the previously mussed bed with the speed and skill of a professional housekeeper. The sheets were pulled taut, eliminating the many wrinkles Kyle knew had been there moments before, and the pillows freshly plumped.
Kyle eyed him over the rim of the coffee mug. “You didn’t need to do that, sweetheart. You’re not my slave.”
“No,” Akira said, carefully smoothing out the final corner with the blade of his hand. “But I am the boyfriend who would be forced to live in squalor if I did not.”
Squalor. Oh fuck him, it was one unmade bed. And a thoroughly messy room, yes, but that was a result of all the toys they’d played with yesterday and not yet had the chance to put away, which Kyle would surely get around to doing...eventually.
