Little Mafia Boy (BoyxBoy) #1

Chapter Eighteen: Baby Steps

{Dylan}

Dylan woke up early that morning to make a small breakfast that would be easy for Max to eat. Last night, he found it a hassle to wipe Max's body down from the dried up blood. Dylan didn't want to risk the possibility of Max hurting himself in the shower since he hadn't fully woken up which would make Dylan have to bathe him. He would toss and turn throughout the night and would speak very short sentences when he would wake up for a little while. So, instead, he grabbed a bucket and a rag and cleaned his body that way. Part of him was glad that Max wasn't conscious because he would have gotten really angry even if Dylan was only helping. He was well aware that Max would get angry for even helping him and bringing Max back to his own apartment.

He poured the soup into a bowl as his mind kept going back to when he found Max lying in the snow without motion. It had scared him half to death. He remembered clearly how his heart had threatened to stop pulsing and his head was screaming at him to move into action, his body contradicting itself.

Dylan let out a long sigh and put the bowl on top of a longer plate. He opened a drawer softly and grabbed a spoon. Setting the spoon inside the bowl, he moved out into the living room and then towards the left door where his room was. Dylan pushed the door open and nearly spilt the soup on the floor as he didn't see Max laying down in his bed. He turned to look towards the bathroom door but the lights were off and the door was wide open. He looked towards the right and there Max was, leaning on the window sill, smoking a cigarette. He was wearing one of Dylan's black sweaters and grey sweats.

"The injured should just stay still and rest." He said with a smile. He walked in and set the soup on top of his small table in the middle of the room that had most of his school papers on it. Dylan grabbed his work. He remembered he had an essay due after break was over but figured he could put it off for another day or so. Either that or he would have to stay up all night the day before he went back to school.

"Where's my phone?" Was the first question Max had asked without tearing his eyes away from the outside view.

"I plugged it in." Dylan responded as he pointed towards the opposite side of the bed. "You were getting a lot of texts and calls last night. I figured it would have been bad if your phone died."

Max finally looked back towards Dylan. He saw that the band-aid he had placed on his cheek had stuck on pretty well and hadn't fallen off. It didn't appear to be bleeding through either. That's when Dylan realized how small and innocent Max really looked. Even with a cigarette between his parted lips and a scowl on his face. "Did you go through my phone?" He asked.

"No." Dylan said. "I didn't. Well, maybe? I didn't go through it per se but I picked up the phone when I saw Nico was calling-"

"You didn't tell him anything, did you?!"

"Uhm, shouldn't I have? I told him you were bleeding on the floor unconsciously when I found you. He offered to come pick you up last night." Dylan stopped and chuckled, "I say 'offered' but really he demanded for my address and told me he was coming. It sounded busy on his side so I had to argue with him to just let you spend the night here. He said that if I touched even as little as a single hair on your head, he would kill me as slowly and painfully as he could and throw me off a bridge."

Dylan could see a hint of a smile threaten to appear on Max's face. Max quickly coughed to disguise it and said, "You're an idiot. You should have just left me there. Now I'm going to have to explain things to Nico."