Chapter 87: Be My Boyfriend, Adrian
Maya didn’t even flinch at the hostility radiating from her guest. "You’re welcome to stay for breakfast," she said. "If not, you can see yourself out. I’ll deal with this after I’ve spoken to him."
She offered a final nod. "Thank you for coming, Iris."
Without waiting for a reply, Maya calmly turned and walked toward the dining room. To her, family matters stayed within the family. She would never let someone as emotional as Iris interfere or decide what should be done.
Standing in the foyer, Iris felt the weight of her failure. She didn’t leave right away. She lingered, staring at where Maya had disappeared, her breath heavy with anger and disbelief.
She couldn’t understand how Maya could stay so calm.
After standing there for a while and realizing Maya wouldn’t even look at her, Iris finally turned and left.
But Maya’s silence wasn’t ignorance.
In the quiet dining room, Maya sat down but didn’t touch her coffee. Her mind went back to the day she saw Adrian and Matteo together.
She had caught them in a moment that was too close to ignore. It was clear there was something between them. Even then, she said nothing.
She chose to respect Adrian’s silence, waiting for the day he would tell her himself. She knew that if she pushed him, she might only drive him away, especially because of the kind of man Matteo was.
Maya knew Iris better than Iris knew herself. She understood that Iris’s obsession with Adrian was a fragile, possessive thing. Iris didn’t love Adrian; she loved the idea of him, and she couldn’t tolerate anyone, or anything, that threatened her control over him.
Maya sighed and set her spoon down with a soft clink. She realized that Iris hadn’t come here out of concern; she had come to weaponize Maya against her own brother. Maya was far too sharp to be a pawn in such a petty, destructive game.
She picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over the call button. She wasn’t going to react to Iris’s drama. She would wait until she could speak to Adrian face-to-face and give him the chance to explain.
She loved her brother too much to let a spiteful soul break the bond they had built over a lifetime. She decided she would call him later, not to interrogate him, but to invite him over for a real conversation whenever he was free.
The morning sun filtered into Matteo’s bedroom, catching the quiet beauty of the room. Matteo woke first, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t known in years. He propped himself up on one elbow to watch Adrian, who was turned away from him, sound asleep. A tangled mess of curly hair covered Adrian’s face, but even in sleep, he looked breathtaking.
Matteo smiled, overwhelmed by how much he loved him. He reached out, gently brushing the curls back from Adrian’s forehead. To keep the hair from falling back into his eyes, Matteo gathered the strands and tied them into a messy ponytail. He leaned down, pressing soft, lingering kisses to Adrian’s forehead, his cheeks, and finally his lips.
Adrian let out a contented hum, his lips curving into a smile even though his eyes remained closed. Matteo kissed him deeply, a soft morning greeting that pulled Adrian from his sleep. When they parted, Adrian still didn’t open his eyes, drifting in that hazy space between dreams and reality.
Matteo made a quick, quiet phone call, then slid back under the duvet. He moved closer, his hand sliding slowly down under the sheets until he firmly grasped Adrian’s cock, already hard and throbbing from the heat of his morning arousal.
Adrian gasped, his eyes flying open as he felt the firm, demanding weight of Matteo’s hand wrapped around him. Matteo didn’t stop; he began to trail slow kisses across Adrian’s chest, his lips grazing the skin exposed where he had slowly pushed open Adrian’s shirt.
"Matteo... why now?" Adrian murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "You know we were up so late last night."
Matteo smirked, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin of Adrian’s still-twitching cock. "This is what you’ll be facing from now on," he murmured, his voice dropping into a dark, possessive rumble. "Every morning, every night. Get used to it."
Adrian frowned, still half-asleep. "What do you mean, Matteo?"
"Call me ’baby,’" Matteo said, his eyes demanding and intense.
Adrian looked at him, his face flushed and his body still buzzing with sensation. "Baby... please, let me sleep first."
Matteo leaned in, pressing his body against Adrian’s. "But you are hard."
Adrian sighed, rubbing his face lightly. "That’s because you keep touching me."
Matteo’s gaze sharpened, his lips brushing against Adrian’s ear as he leaned down. "So, you don’t like it?"
Adrian let out a needy sound, his hips instinctively moving up into Matteo’s palm. "I do, but..."
Matteo chuckled, his hand continuing its rhythmic, demanding stroke, his grip tightening. "You’re too tempting," he murmured. "I can’t keep my hands off you."
Before Adrian could argue, Matteo picked up the pace, his thumb and palm working with expert, wet pressure against the sensitive head of his cock. Adrian’s resolve broke instantly. He reached up, tangling his fingers in Matteo’s hair to pull him down for a kiss. Their mouths collided, and Adrian’s gasps were swallowed by Matteo’s lips.
Before Adrian could argue, Matteo picked up the pace, his thumb and palm working with expert, wet pressure against the sensitive head of his cock. Adrian’s resolve broke instantly. He reached up, tangling his fingers in Matteo’s hair to pull him down for a kiss. Their mouths collided, and Adrian’s gasps were swallowed by Matteo’s lips.
Matteo kept stroking him, his rhythm relentless as he massaged Adrian’s throbbing cock, his gaze locked onto Adrian’s face. He pushed him closer and closer to the edge, the friction intensifying until Adrian let out a sharp, ragged sound and came hard, spraying his sperm over Matteo’s palm.
As Adrian’s body shuddered with the final wave of his release, Matteo leaned in, his voice a low, gravelly whisper against his skin.
Before Adrian could even catch his breath, Matteo murmured against his neck, "Be my boyfriend."
Adrian’s eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. He stared at Matteo, certain he was dreaming. "What did you just say?"
Matteo didn’t blink. "Be my boyfriend."
"Are you... Are you asking us to be official?" Adrian asked, his heart racing.
"Yes," Matteo replied. He reached down, bringing a stain of Adrian’s cum to his mouth and licking it off with a slow, possessive gaze. "Or are you not interested in me?"
Adrian looked at him, feeling a pang of disappointment he couldn’t hide. Is that it? he thought. No flowers? No grand gesture? Does he really think I’m just here for the pleasure? "You’re asking me like this?" Adrian whispered, gesturing to the empty bed. "No gifts, no flowers?"
Matteo’s expression remained calm. "Yes. So, will you be my boyfriend?"
Adrian felt a flicker of hurt, wondering if he meant so little that Matteo couldn’t be bothered to plan anything special. He shook the feeling away, not wanting to ruin the moment. "Yes," he said softly. "I will be your boyfriend."
Matteo saw the hesitation, the quiet disappointment behind Adrian’s eyes. He stayed silent, simply pulling Adrian into a tender, lingering kiss. "Thank you, baby."
Adrian couldn’t keep quiet any longer. "You didn’t get me anything," he admitted, his voice small.
Matteo brushed a thumb over his cheek. "It wasn’t planned, but I promise, I’ll get you the world when we get back."
It wasn’t what Adrian wanted to hear, but he nodded, managing a small, loving smile. "Okay, baby. Thank you."
Matteo smiled. "Alright, baby. Let’s get up so we can shower and have breakfast."
"Alright, baby," Adrian murmured.
They got up to shower, the water washing away the night’s intensity. Afterward, they dressed, Matteo in his sharp, signature black, and Adrian in one of Matteo’s soft, oversized white shirts and white shorts.
As they stepped out of the bedroom, Matteo nudged him. "Smile, baby."
Adrian managed a shy smile. They walked down the hallway hand in hand, still talking softly, his attention mostly on Matteo.
But the moment they reached the top of the stairs and Adrian looked ahead, he froze.
The staircase was lined with a trail of fresh, fragrant flower petals. His breath caught as he started down, his eyes lifting toward the living room.
It had been completely transformed.
Both the living room and dining area were filled with gifts, piles of neatly stacked boxes covering one side. In the center stood a massive bouquet, so large it looked like a garden of its own.
And above it all, glowing brightly against the wall in bold, elegant letters, were the words:
WILL YOU BE MY BOYFRIEND?