“Miles, come eat your dinner.”
The young man in question didn’t lift his head from his studies, instead just waving Stephen off with a vague hand gesture. “I can’t. I have to get this down before I can stop.”
Stephen put more steel into his voice. “That wasn’t a request, Miles.”
That got the slave’s attention. Miles’ head popped up and he looked at his Master with a nervous gulp. Stephen didn’t feel at all contrite about pulling rank on the younger man. Miles was pale, with circles under his eyes so dark that they looked like bruises. He’d let Miles push himself far too hard; it was time to rein the overenthusiastic student in before he collapsed.
“I’m sorry, Stephen,” Miles apologized, staggering with exhaustion as he lurched from his seat. “I just want to do really well on this exam.”
“I know you do, my own,” Stephen assured him as he pulled the slave into his arms and kissed him chastely. “But I won’t let you harm yourself in your zeal. Your health is more important than any exam.”
The slave sighed but didn’t protest as Stephen led him down the hall and into the kitchen. Stephen had made vegetable lasagna, normally a favorite of Miles’. Although he sat down obediently at his place and made an attempt to eat his dinner, Stephen could tell that Miles’ heart wasn’t really in it.
“This test has you that spooked?” Stephen asked, concerned at the amount of nervousness the young man was exhibiting. Miles hadn’t looked this uneasy since the first weeks he’d been Stephen’s slave.
Miles sagged in his chair. “I want to do well for you, so you’ll be proud of me. Dr. Chimienti too.”
Stephen took Miles’ hand from where it rested limply on the table. “I am proud of you, Irene is too.” He kissed the young man’s palm. “And I love you. I always will, no matter what any medical school test result is.”
“I know.” Miles blushed. “I just want to show you that your faith in me is justified.”
“You do, my own,” Stephen promised him. “Every day.”
Miles looked down again and started poking at his pasta listlessly with his
fork. Stephen gave up on trying getting
the slave to eat. From the looks of it,
whatever Miles managed to choke down would probably just come right back up
again anyway. The situation called for a
different strategy.
“Come on,” Stephen stood and held out a hand to the slave. “Come with me.”
Miles was so tired that he just blinked at first at the sudden change in his Master’s instruction. Then he dropped his fork, took Stephen’s hand, and let himself be led from the kitchen.
Stephen took Miles to his bedroom, smiling as he entered. With the intimacy lessons and the rest of their subsequent loving activities, this room held a lot of pleasant memories. It had taken some time, but he was confident that Miles felt the same way. With any luck, the happy memories and good vibes in the room would help the stressed young man relax.
He gathered Miles into his arms again and kissed him gently before letting go. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”
Miles blushed, although Stephen was amused to note that he immediately began unbuttoning his shirt. “Stephen, I don’t know if I’ll be good for much tonight.”
Stephen’s chuckle was full of fondness. “You’ll be just fine, Miles. This isn’t about sex, not tonight. I just want to help you feel better.”
“Okay,” Miles answered simply and Stephen felt himself melt at the shy smile that accompanied the words. There was no fear in that statement, only trust and acceptance and he felt an inordinate sense of pride at how far the slave healed.
While Miles stripped, Stephen went to the attached bathroom and got the supplies he’d been saving for a special occasion. One of the perks of being a doctor was access to items that non-medical personnel didn’t. He rooted in the cabinet under the sink and came up with the container of warming cream commonly used by physical therapists.
Tossing the jar back and forth into his hands, he reentered the bedroom and almost immediately regretted his promise to Miles that nothing sexual was going to happen. The younger man was on the bed, nude, laying face down. The sight of that sweet ass was almost enough to make Stephen break his promise.
Almost, but not quite.
Miles had heard him come back into the room and swiveled a little to look at him. “I don’t want you to think that I’m this nervous about the test because I’ve been slacking, because I haven’t.”
The idea was so preposterous that Stephen gave in to the urge to laugh. “You? Slacking? Are you kidding, my own? I have to drag your nose out of your books to go to the gym or out for a walk. Sometimes I think you’d rather study than do anything else, like breathe or eat.”
The teasing got Stephen a sheepish smile from his slave.
“I don’t like studying more than everything,” Miles responded softly. “Not more than making love with you.”
Stephen carelessly dropped the cream on the bed and knelt down so he could cup Miles’ face with both his hands. “Now how can I not be proud of you? You’ve come so far, Miles.” He kissed the young man tenderly. Just when Miles started to lean into him, though, he let go with a wink. “But you’re not going to tempt me. I said this was all for you and that it didn’t involve sex.”
“But making love relaxes me,” Miles pouted and then ruined the effect by yawning hugely.
Stephen chuckled. “Oh, there’ll be love involved, just no sex. Not tonight. Now turn over.”
Miles sighed but obeyed. As the slave settled against the covers, Stephen opened the jar and got a generous dollop of the cream on his hands, rubbing them together briskly as he’d been instructed. A sensation of warmth almost immediately started building and he grinned in anticipation of Miles’ likely reaction. He kept the jar close by and straddled his lover’s prone body.
“Ooooh,” Miles moaned as Stephen’s hands started kneading his shoulders. “That feels downright sinful.”
Stephen chuckled. The slave’s reaction was everything he’d hoped for. “See? I told you I could make you feel better.”
“You always do,” Miles murmured, melting into the mattress as the massage continued.
“You know,” Stephen commented after a few moments of silence that was blissful, on Miles’ part at least. “I always used to get worked up before an exam too.”
Miles snorted. “You? Stephen, you’re brilliant. I find that hard to believe.”
“My sister, Theresa, died when we were teenagers,” Stephen stated in a clipped voice. “An aggressive blood cancer. If she’d been diagnosed correctly, even a few weeks earlier, it might have made a difference.” He paused his hands’ motion as he became lost in deep thought. “I thought of that every time I had a test. I had to know enough not to make that kind of mistake and cause a family that type of deep pain.” He smiled grimly. “I think of it now, every time we have a new case.”
Miles half-turned to look at him, eyes serious with shared pain. “That’s why you drive yourself so hard.”
Stephen shrugged depreciatingly. “That’s part of it.” He smiled suddenly. “But I also just hate to be wrong.”
The slave looked at him long and hard before turning over again. “Yeah, right.”
Belatedly realizing that his hands had stilled, Stephen started the massage again. “Well, in any case, that’s why my parents never objected to my choice of careers.”
“Being a physician is a respected profession,” Miles protested, this time keeping on his stomach as the massage began to unknot tense muscles.
“There are doctors and then there are doctors,” Stephen pointed out. “The nobility don’t usually like getting their hands dirty. A teaching physician or one that does primarily research is more acceptable than one who actually comes into contact with patients. Especially one who treats all levels of patients.”
“Your parents didn’t mind, though?” Miles asked after a few moments had passed.
Stephen shook his head and then realized that Miles couldn’t see the gesture. “No. They’d counted on Theresa or I making a good marriage; we needed the money. When Theresa died, it came down to me. No one would have blamed them if they’d insisted that I just pretty myself up and pick my university with an eye for meeting a rich suitor. But they didn’t.”
“They sound nice,” Miles commented.
“They are,” Stephen replied. “They live in
“Drawing out nucleophilic addition,” Miles mumbled, body already limp under Stephen’s ministrations.
Stephen was surprised at his answer. Nucleophilic addition was organic chemistry, something Miles should have mastered in pre-med. It was, Stephen decided, evidence of the young man’s stress that it was giving him trouble now.
“You know that stuff,” Stephen stated confidently. “You’ve just wound yourself up so badly that you can’t remember, but you will when you need to.”
“Mmmmm. . . .” Miles murmured indistinctly.
Stephen grinned as he realized that his plan was working. He continued to knead Miles’ back, stopping only to get more of the heat-generating cream. As he worked, he spoke in a quiet monotone, reminding Miles of the fundamentals of nucleophilic addition.
He continued words and massage both until he heard a soft snore.
Leaving off his kneading motion, Stephen bent down until he could see Miles’ face. The younger man was asleep, a blissful expression on his face.
Stephen smiled fondly as his rubbing of Miles’ flesh became softer strokes. He could remember what it was like to be a student, especially with a job on top of classes. Burning the candle at both ends was standard operating procedure in a vain attempt to get everything done. Back then, he’d had a tendency to fall asleep when it got to be too much, in spite of what he was in the middle of, like Miles had just done.
Wait a minute.
Miles had fallen asleep. Miles had fallen asleep in Stephen’s bed, something the slave had warned Stephen that he’d never be able to do. Not only had Miles fallen asleep in a Master’s bed, though. He’d done so while completely nude and with said Master’s hands on him.
“Well, what do you know?” Stephen murmured to himself, speaking quietly so he didn’t wake the young man.
It was a break through. Trust had been something Stephen had worked on from the very beginning with Miles and they made progress every day. This, though, was something special. Miles had come to genuinely enjoy making love with Stephen. Sleeping with him, however, was a barrier that the slave had yet to be able to overcome.
Until now.
With one last stroke down Miles’ back, Stephen carefully settled on the bed next to the other man. Now that Miles had learned to trust him while in his most vulnerable state, even if subconsciously, Stephen felt duty-bound to watch over him. It was hardly a chore anyway. In fact, it was a pleasure.
Good study habits, after all, should be rewarded.
~the end~