Little Mafia Boy (BoyxBoy) #1

Chapter Twenty-Three: Open Your Heart

{Dylan}

Mikhail was over at Dylan's apartment laying in his bed. He was texting on his phone so Dylan assumed he was talking to Nico. His phone was directly over his face with his arms stretched out. Dylan silently prayed to whatever God was out there to let the phone to fall down and smack him in the face.

He was a little annoyed at Mikhail for choosing someone like Nico to be his boyfriend. Dylan figured mikhail could do way better. He didn't like the idea of his best friend dating a Mafia member. It didn't sit right with him. Then again, it wasn't his place to intervene. He knew that much. Mikhail looked happier now than he had since they first met. The smile on Mikhail's face was very pure and genuine. Also, if he had to be honest, Nico wasn't as bad as Dylan thought. It was just that Nico's personality was shit with him but was different with Mikhail. Somewhere very, very deep inside of Dylan was a little relief that Nico was there for Mikhail. Nico was the strong pillars holding Mikhail up for a lack of better words. Now, would he ever say those words out loud? Definitely not. Especially not to Nico's face. He could already picture the jerk being an ass about it and hoped that day would never come.

"I know you're in a new relationship, hell, your first relationship really but I don't fancy being ignored, man." Dylan said looking at Mikhail through the mirror.

"Mhm."

Dylan rolled his eyes, "I'm moving to Vegas." He said knowing that Mikhail wasn't even paying attention so it wouldn't matter what he said from there on out.

"Great."

"I'm becoming a merman. Gonna be in tanks and stuff."

"Awesome."

"Then I'm moving to Atlantis."

"No way."

"I'm going to learn the ways of the mer-people and become their king."

"Waah, congrats."

"I'm pregnant."

Mikhail nearly dropped his phone on that last one. He turned his head and glared at Dylan, "What? Now I got to marry you off to some trucker that knocked you up? Can't wait to explain that one to your grandparents."

"Oh. Ha. Ha." Dylan said dryly and turned around. "He finally speaks but all I hear is sarcasm. You've been on that damned phone for an hour. Your conversation with your boyfriend can't be that interesting"

"Sorry." Mikhail flinched, feeling guilty, and put his phone on the dresser away from him. "Alright already. I'm done, okay? I'm all yours. What did you need?" He asked with a small smile.

Dylan groaned, "I need you to help me pick out my outfit."

Mikhail looked questionably at him and asked, "What? Are we doing the whole gossip talk as I dress you? Want me to braid your hair too? We can even paint each other's finger nails."

"I like my nails turquoise. If you paint anything other than my nail, you're dead to me." Dylan joked back.

"Now who's being sarcastic?" Mikhail stood up reluctantly and headed to his closet. He was rummaging through his clothes carefully, looking thoughtful. "So," he asked suddenly as Dylan was contemplating going out to buy contact lenses so that his glasses wouldn't fog up from the cold. Though, he didn't want to risk them falling out of his eye. Also, they scared the crap out of them. He didn't like putting plastic in his eyeballs. "You're serious about Max then?"

Dylan stopped everything he was doing and slowly turned to look at Mikhail, who hadn't stopped his task at hand. "What?" He asked out quietly.