“Gods, this is impossible!”

Miles looked up at his Master’s uncharacteristic outburst.  The two men were in Stephen’s office at NIH headquarters.  With no case in the offing, Miles had been absorbed with schoolwork, curled up in a big
chair Stephen kept in his office.  Stephen himself was seated at his desk and had been attempting to catch up with a sea of bureaucratic documents that needed to be filled out and submitted. A boring task, to be sure, but not usually one that gave his owner fits.

“Stephen, are you all right?” Miles asked tentatively.

By this time, Stephen had flung his papers aside and was rubbing at his temples with his fingers.

“I’m fine, Miles,” he answered, voice somewhat muffled.  “Just a headache.  I hope I didn’t scare you.” 

Stephen lifted his head to smile at his slave, but given how wan he looked, Miles didn’t find it terribly comforting.  Miles’ own health had been frail ever since he’d almost died from bacterial meningitis. Remembering how Stephen had cared for him during all his various bouts with illness, the slave resolutely set his textbooks and notepaper aside.  After rising from his chair, he walked to the desk and positioned himself behind where Stephen was sitting.  It was evident of far he’d come since coming under Stephen Connor’s ownership and protection that he started kneading the tense muscles of Stephen’s back
without asking permission. Or, for that matter, that he willingly touched a Master at all.

“Oh, that feels wonderful,” Stephen moaned, his chin dropping to his chest as he immediately gave way to his slave’s ministrations. 

“Good,” Miles stated firmly.  Over Stephen’s shoulder, he looked at the documents the other man had been studying. The print was so small that his eyes almost immediately crossed.  “Anybody would go blind reading that; it’s no wonder you have a headache.”

“Mmmmmm,” his owner purred. Already, Miles could feel the tight muscles beginning to loosen.  “It has to be done, Miles.”

“You could have me do it,” Miles offered.  “I am your slave, after all. I should be taking on administrative tasks like this, to free you up for your diagnostic work.” 

Stephen’s hands came up to cover Miles’, stilling the massage for a moment.  “Finishing your medical degree is far more important. Believe me, I’ll be putting you to work all you want, and then some, when you’re a doctor in your own right.”

Miles couldn’t help but noticing that his Master had said ‘when’ and not ‘if.’ The man’s belief in him was always unfailing. With renewed inspiration, he started working Stephen’s neck again.

“You have my permission to do that for, oh, another fifty or sixty years,” Stephen sighed.  He looked up at Miles and smiled.  “You have a healer’s touch.”

“If so, I learned it from you,” Miles responded shyly.

He continued rubbing at Stephen’s back and neck, not stopping until he felt the last vestiges of hardness melt from the other man’s flesh. Even then, he kept up a light stroking, not quite willing to stop touching yet.  When he saw Stephen start to nod off, though, Miles knew it was time to change tactics.

“Come on,” he instructed his Master, reaching out a hand to the other man.  “Those forms can wait a while longer. Come with me.”

His fond smile showing his amusement at Miles’ uncharacteristic bossiness, Stephen obeyed.  He let himself be pulled from his desk and over to the big chair that Miles had previously been seated in.  As
Miles guided him down onto its soft cushions, Stephen refused to relinquish his grip on the slave’s hand. He pulled Miles onto his lap, which startled a huff of surprise out of the younger man. Miles was still a little self-conscious with lap cuddling, at first anyway, but he knew Stephen liked it.

Draping himself like a blanket over Stephen, Miles gave himself to the experience.  He laid his head on Stephen’s shoulder and buried his face in the older man’s neck. He loved the scent of Stephen there, spicy
and warm and the essence of security.

“This is even better,” Stephen murmured, wrapping his arms around Miles in a loose embrace.  “Thank you, my own.”

“You’re welcome,” Miles answered politely.  He blushed as he added, “I like it too.”

“You’ve come a long way, young one,” Stephen said warmly.  “I’m proud of you.”  He kissed the slave gently before sinking deeper into the cushions.

Miles didn’t answer, just nuzzled his Master and lay quietly, hoping the other man would go to sleep.  As Stephen’s body became limp and his breathing deepened, Miles sighed in contentment.  He wouldn’t nap himself, but wasn’t in the mood to pick his textbook back up either. Deciding to keep watch and make sure that Stephen’s headache didn’t come back, Miles settled against his Master’s body, enjoying the chance to take care of Stephen for a change.