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poisontaster said something that made my brain go *ping*. It was about Jared P and Milo V. I wrote an RPS even though I really don't *read* them because I just got a scene stuck in my head. And yes, I got asked for more by poisontaster and this is her belated birthday present...
This is a followup but can be read as a standalone...
Nice Boy
Milo/Jared. Adult themes...
Followup to Angry Boy but can be read as a standalone.
Jared was a nice guy.
2,553 words.
---
“Don’t fuck your co-stars, dude.”
Jared slaps a hand over his face. He’s not sure what he was expecting but he supposes he asked for it. He called Chad after all.
“I didn’t… really,” Jared half-mumbles. Now he’s called and bitched about Milo’s mind games, he’s starting to feel a little bit like an asshole. Chad can relate all too well to being pushed out of a show, sacrificed so another love-interest can play out. Chad was the first person he thought to call because he could relate but Jared supposes him being the one that actually did the pushing… it’s not really fair on the guy.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chad’s crunching something on the other end of the line. Sounds like cereal or something and since it’s been a whole hour since Jared’s eaten, his stomach growls to life. He sometimes wonders whether it would be easier to just be hooked up to an IV.
“He kinda… rubbed up against me but nothing… transpired.”
“So you were just a victim of frottage. Don’t sweat it, happens on trains all the time.”
Jared rolls his eyes and he hears Chad chuckle. “Don’t pull that face.”
“We’re on the phone,” Jared protests but he knows Chad heard the eye-roll in the silence.
“Look, I’m not sure what you want me to say,” Chad says, and there’s a shrug in his voice. “Either just punch him in the throat and be done with it or…”
“Or what?”
“Or… are you hoping for a repeat performance with a happier ending?” Chad presses and Jared snorts.
“He’s just messing with me. I don’t even like the guy and it’s pretty clear he doesn’t like me.”
“Doesn’t mean squat,” Chad says, dismissal in his voice. “I once slept with a girl for four months who drove me fuckin’ nuts. She had this voice that was like fingernails on a blackboard but man, she had the best ass I’d seen like… ever.”
“You’re a pig.”
“And you got the hots for some short-ass who’s stealing your job and making you look like a pussy doin’ it. I read some of the upcoming scripts while I was feeding your dogs and while Tristan got to leave with a little bit of dignity, Dean’s just getting his balls kicked. Repeatedly.”
“You’re not making me feel better,” Jared groans, sliding further into his couch and laying his forearm over his eyes.
“Not my job, bitch,” Chad says with a chuckle and clicks off.
000
Jared’s had awkward morning-after talks before, but he’s not sure how to approach an after-frottage afternoon. Turns out he doesn’t have to because Milo disappears and he doesn’t see him for another three days.
An industrial-sized tub of jelly beans turns up in his trailer and Jared wonders if it’s that obvious that he’s miserable. Every new page delivered to him of his upcoming scenes just makes him wince more.
Chad’s right. He’s basically getting his nads stomped on, possibly for an entire season.
When failing light puts a halt to the day, Jared heads back to his hotel. He wants nothing more than to drown his sorrows in gummy worms and maybe whatever’s playing on the hotel’s movie channel. When he lets himself into his room, he finds the pull-out couch in the living room pulled out and more confusingly, Milo.
“What are you doing here?” he blurts.
“I thought we could talk,” Milo says, swivelling so he can put his feet down on the floor. He’s wearing black jeans and a white v-neck and Jared tries not to notice the way his forehead crinkles when he looks up through his hair. That’s Jared’s look.
His.
“You’re kidding,” Jared says and Milo huffs a laugh and rubs at the back of his head, making the hair stick up which is completely not adorable, or at least that’s what Jared tells himself.
“Of course I am,” Milo dismisses with a wave of his hand.
“Then what-?” Milo has stood and is making his way across to Jared and Jared’s not sure how someone so little can take up a room like Milo does. Milo puts hands on Jared’s belt buckle and tugs a little, enough to make Jared tip forward onto the balls of his feet but not overbalance him.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Milo prompts. His head is tipped up and back so he can look into Jared’s eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Jared hedges.
“I would. What fascinates me is how much it bothers you that I might not like you despite this very obvious fact.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jared snaps, stepping backwards. Milo doesn’t try to hold him, actually drops his hands away as soon as Jared moves.
“I’m just wondering what’s underneath that pink shirt-wearing, glitter spreading, dimple-cheeked thing you seem to have going on, which doesn’t fool me, by the way.”
“Now I know you’re demented,” Jared huffs and makes for his bed, wanting to maybe fold it away because it’s rumpled from Milo lying on it and that’s bothering him way more than he’d like it to. Maybe he could burn the sheets.
“It’s inevitable, really,” Milo says, catching at Jared’s sleeve when he moves past, skating his fingers along the material and to Jared’s bare forearm before slipping away again. “I mean, the bad boy always gets the morally superior, pretty princess.”
“I’m sorry, am I the princess in your scenario?” Jared huffs, drawing himself up to his full height, turning and leaning into Milo’s space. It’s supposed to cow the guy, like his height and mass have so effectively done to most people since he hit six two and didn’t seem likely to stop. Instead Milo’s eyes darken with interest and his uneven mouth tilts a little.
“I’m just seeing how badly I can treat you and you’ll still get hard for me,” Milo says in a low growl, hand darting out and brushing the front of Jared’s jeans. Jared jerks away, but not fast enough to avoid the touch and not nearly fast enough for Milo to be proven wrong.
“Mostly,” Milo growls, coming up onto his toes so his lips almost brush Jared’s chin when he speaks. “I just want to see you angry.”
000
“You slept with him.”
“No I didn’t,” Jared protests and hates the way his voice goes shrill.
“You want to,” Chad accuses. He’s eating again and Jared wonders if he keeps a special stash of snacks just to chew obnoxiously into the phone.
“I do not,” Jared denies and he’s almost, sort of, mostly sure that’s true.
“Oh please, bitch. You want to more now that you did the last time I talked to you. I can hear it in your voice.”
Jared would deny it, but goddamn it all if Chad isn’t right. He casts about his room, wanting to do something dramatic like throw something because that’s what situations like these call for but Jared’s at a loss. He likes all his stuff and he doesn’t particularly want to deal with the grief of breaking something of the hotel’s. And man if he can’t even have a tantrum properly.
He’s really screwed.
“Talk to Lauren,” Chad is saying in his ear.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“She’s an adult. She’ll talk some sense into that giant gourd you call a head.”
“I think I’ve been humiliated enough for one life time, thanks.”
“Fine, get your heart broken Barbie. See if I care.”
000
Jared is trying to choose between Mac n’ cheese and a steak sandwich and wondering if he can get away with both when he feels fingers insinuate themselves between the bottom of his shirt and the top of his jeans, a thumb rubbing along the cut of his hip.
“Where on earth do you put it all?” Milo asks from behind him, the hand making a quick swipe over his belly before disappearing.
“I’m a growing boy,” Jared snaps, thinking fuck it and loading his plate. He squeaks though when Milo’s hand lands firmly over his crotch and squeezes.
“Oh really?” Milo muses and Jared thinks crazily, I am not being groped in full daylight in the middle of the catering tent.
When he turns, Milo is already heading away and he manages to dump his full plate all over one of the assistants who looks down at herself in dismay and then up at Jared.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” he blurts.
000
His only sanctuary is his trailer, so when that’s violated Jared kinda feels like losing it.
Milo is leaning over, digging through his backpack and Jared hooks an arm around him and wrenches up and back, grinning at the way Milo’s feet come completely off the floor. He gets a hard kick to the shin that he’s not sure is intentional and then Milo goes limp in his grip. “So, I’m assuming you don’t have any gum then?” Milo asks, and laughs when Jared spins them and brings Milo up against the side of the trailer so hard the whole thing rocks on its blocks.
“What do you want from me?” Jared demands, his voice going low and almost becoming a growl. He’s never heard himself do that before but he can’t seem to let Milo go. He’s just too damn pleased with the way Milo’s still pretty much off his feet, toes only just barely touching and kind of winging back and forth like they’re looking for purchase.
“Thought that was pretty damn obvious,” Milo huffs and he arches his head up and back so his lips skid along Jared’s jaw. It’s awkward as hell and would probably look ridiculous if someone were on the outside looking in but…
“If you wanted to make me mad, congratu-fuckin-lations,” Jared snaps, getting a leg between Milo’s so he’s still pinned against the wall but Jared’s able to get an arm free. He uses his free hand to dig into Milo’s hair and pull his questing mouth away from his skin. It’s just too damn distracting.
Milo though just grinds down on Jared’s thigh instead and everything whites. He’s so angry his whole body is buzzing with it and it’s just turning him on so much that he gets more furious. It seems to be a vicious loop that’s making him crazy with it.
Milo’s arms had been hanging at his sides but now he reaches up and back, his hands locking behind Jared’s neck. “I knew you had it in you,” Milo says with a laugh that sounds a little too gleeful.
Jared drops his grip and steps back. Milo isn’t expecting it so his hands come free and he kind of slides against the trailer wall and then lands on his ass. Jared flicks his hair out of his eyes and smirks because he’s just figured all this out.
“I’m going for a run,” Jared says, surprised at how normal his voice sounds. He unbuckles his jeans and slides them off, unconcerned like he’s alone. Milo turns, still on the floor and then loops his arms over his knees, trying for casual. His eyes give him away though, too dark and pupils blown. Jared steps to the side, toeing his boots off before he can kick his jeans free and then yanks a pair of sweats from his backpack and slides them on. He takes off his t-shirt next, again slow and unconcerned and pulls another over his head. He finds his sneakers kicked under the fold-away table and steps into them.
“Wait,” Milo says, hand coming up and trembling slightly. The other goes to his groin and Jared can tell he’s pressing the heel of his palm where he’s probably growing hot and uncomfortable.
“You don’t get to play games with me,” Jared says. He suddenly feels wiped clean of the anger and it feels good, like he’s just taken a dunk in a glacier-cold lake. His skin breaks out in gooseflesh even. “You might have size issues or whatever but I’m not going to be your torture toy.”
Milo’s mouth drops open and he has no comeback for that.
Jared feels pretty pleased with himself when he leaves the trailer and settles into a leisurely jog.
000
“I am holding all the cards.”
“Oh really?”
“I am Lord and Master of all I survey.”
“Uhuh.”
“There is upper hand and I have it.”
“You’re disgustingly chipper. Finally get your end wet?”
“I don’t even know why I talk to you,” Jared groans. “You are the crassest human being I’ve ever met.”
“Hey, there’re those that pussy-foot and those that… well, don’t. Are you honestly telling me you’re this happy when you don’t get laid?”
“I uh…” Jared pauses, pushing a hand through his hair. “Wait, no. You’re just…” Ruining it, Jared wants to whine but he’s not sure what Chad has actually ruined per se. He’s had a moral victory, drawn a line in the sand. Milo was just messing with him after all… wasn’t he?
“Maybe he just likes his girls dirty,” Chad notes and Jared fights the urge to throw his phone away from him as hard as he can. He doesn’t want to be accused of being a drama queen.
000
Milo is waiting for him at his hotel room again, but this time he’s sitting outside in the hallway. He has a bunch of flowers across his lap and one of those ridiculous heart-shaped boxes of chocolates that Jared thought only existed in cartoons.
“Oh, hey,” Milo greets, getting up and looking down at his hands, like he’s not sure where the gifts he’s brought have come from. “I don’t usually… ah… woo, but you seem to need that.”
“Oh my god,” Jared groans, smacking a hand to his face and rubbing down. “Are you actually serious?”
“What can I say?” Milo shrugs, a little self-consciously. “I’m usually better at reading people.”
“You thought that whole thing was what I’d want?”
“I thought that whole thing was what you were aching for,” Milo corrects, his voice dipping low. Jared’s fists clench and he steps forward, backing Milo up into his closed door. The flowers and candy go down and are then dropped when Jared doesn’t stop until they’re pressed together, knee to chest.
“I thought you were just messing with me,” Jared says, narrowing his eyes. Milo, when Jared is this close, is forced to tip his face way back. He’s all angles and lines and Jared wets his lips, seeing the way Milo’s eyes follow the movement.
“I thought you were playing hard to get,” Milo says and Jared dips his head and nips at Milo’s lower lip, biting down when Milo doesn’t do anything and grinning with the lip still held between his teeth when Milo’s hands come up and fist in his shirt.
“How about you say, Jared, I like your ass and want to make sweet, sweet love to you.”
“Oh for chrissakes,” Milo swears and tries to ducks his head away but Jared brings a hand up on either side of his head.
“Sweet, sweet love,” Jared repeats.
“I changed my mind,” Milo declares, but he doesn’t protest when Jared manages to get the door opened behind them and spills them both through.
poisontaster said something that made my brain go *ping*. It was about Jared P and Milo V. I wrote an RPS even though I really don't *read* them because I just got a scene stuck in my head. And yes, I got asked for more by poisontaster and this is her belated birthday present... This is a followup but can be read as a standalone...
Nice Boy
Milo/Jared. Adult themes...
Followup to Angry Boy but can be read as a standalone.
Jared was a nice guy.
2,553 words.
---
“Don’t fuck your co-stars, dude.”
Jared slaps a hand over his face. He’s not sure what he was expecting but he supposes he asked for it. He called Chad after all.
“I didn’t… really,” Jared half-mumbles. Now he’s called and bitched about Milo’s mind games, he’s starting to feel a little bit like an asshole. Chad can relate all too well to being pushed out of a show, sacrificed so another love-interest can play out. Chad was the first person he thought to call because he could relate but Jared supposes him being the one that actually did the pushing… it’s not really fair on the guy.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chad’s crunching something on the other end of the line. Sounds like cereal or something and since it’s been a whole hour since Jared’s eaten, his stomach growls to life. He sometimes wonders whether it would be easier to just be hooked up to an IV.
“He kinda… rubbed up against me but nothing… transpired.”
“So you were just a victim of frottage. Don’t sweat it, happens on trains all the time.”
Jared rolls his eyes and he hears Chad chuckle. “Don’t pull that face.”
“We’re on the phone,” Jared protests but he knows Chad heard the eye-roll in the silence.
“Look, I’m not sure what you want me to say,” Chad says, and there’s a shrug in his voice. “Either just punch him in the throat and be done with it or…”
“Or what?”
“Or… are you hoping for a repeat performance with a happier ending?” Chad presses and Jared snorts.
“He’s just messing with me. I don’t even like the guy and it’s pretty clear he doesn’t like me.”
“Doesn’t mean squat,” Chad says, dismissal in his voice. “I once slept with a girl for four months who drove me fuckin’ nuts. She had this voice that was like fingernails on a blackboard but man, she had the best ass I’d seen like… ever.”
“You’re a pig.”
“And you got the hots for some short-ass who’s stealing your job and making you look like a pussy doin’ it. I read some of the upcoming scripts while I was feeding your dogs and while Tristan got to leave with a little bit of dignity, Dean’s just getting his balls kicked. Repeatedly.”
“You’re not making me feel better,” Jared groans, sliding further into his couch and laying his forearm over his eyes.
“Not my job, bitch,” Chad says with a chuckle and clicks off.
Jared’s had awkward morning-after talks before, but he’s not sure how to approach an after-frottage afternoon. Turns out he doesn’t have to because Milo disappears and he doesn’t see him for another three days.
An industrial-sized tub of jelly beans turns up in his trailer and Jared wonders if it’s that obvious that he’s miserable. Every new page delivered to him of his upcoming scenes just makes him wince more.
Chad’s right. He’s basically getting his nads stomped on, possibly for an entire season.
When failing light puts a halt to the day, Jared heads back to his hotel. He wants nothing more than to drown his sorrows in gummy worms and maybe whatever’s playing on the hotel’s movie channel. When he lets himself into his room, he finds the pull-out couch in the living room pulled out and more confusingly, Milo.
“What are you doing here?” he blurts.
“I thought we could talk,” Milo says, swivelling so he can put his feet down on the floor. He’s wearing black jeans and a white v-neck and Jared tries not to notice the way his forehead crinkles when he looks up through his hair. That’s Jared’s look.
His.
“You’re kidding,” Jared says and Milo huffs a laugh and rubs at the back of his head, making the hair stick up which is completely not adorable, or at least that’s what Jared tells himself.
“Of course I am,” Milo dismisses with a wave of his hand.
“Then what-?” Milo has stood and is making his way across to Jared and Jared’s not sure how someone so little can take up a room like Milo does. Milo puts hands on Jared’s belt buckle and tugs a little, enough to make Jared tip forward onto the balls of his feet but not overbalance him.
“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Milo prompts. His head is tipped up and back so he can look into Jared’s eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Jared hedges.
“I would. What fascinates me is how much it bothers you that I might not like you despite this very obvious fact.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jared snaps, stepping backwards. Milo doesn’t try to hold him, actually drops his hands away as soon as Jared moves.
“I’m just wondering what’s underneath that pink shirt-wearing, glitter spreading, dimple-cheeked thing you seem to have going on, which doesn’t fool me, by the way.”
“Now I know you’re demented,” Jared huffs and makes for his bed, wanting to maybe fold it away because it’s rumpled from Milo lying on it and that’s bothering him way more than he’d like it to. Maybe he could burn the sheets.
“It’s inevitable, really,” Milo says, catching at Jared’s sleeve when he moves past, skating his fingers along the material and to Jared’s bare forearm before slipping away again. “I mean, the bad boy always gets the morally superior, pretty princess.”
“I’m sorry, am I the princess in your scenario?” Jared huffs, drawing himself up to his full height, turning and leaning into Milo’s space. It’s supposed to cow the guy, like his height and mass have so effectively done to most people since he hit six two and didn’t seem likely to stop. Instead Milo’s eyes darken with interest and his uneven mouth tilts a little.
“I’m just seeing how badly I can treat you and you’ll still get hard for me,” Milo says in a low growl, hand darting out and brushing the front of Jared’s jeans. Jared jerks away, but not fast enough to avoid the touch and not nearly fast enough for Milo to be proven wrong.
“Mostly,” Milo growls, coming up onto his toes so his lips almost brush Jared’s chin when he speaks. “I just want to see you angry.”
“You slept with him.”
“No I didn’t,” Jared protests and hates the way his voice goes shrill.
“You want to,” Chad accuses. He’s eating again and Jared wonders if he keeps a special stash of snacks just to chew obnoxiously into the phone.
“I do not,” Jared denies and he’s almost, sort of, mostly sure that’s true.
“Oh please, bitch. You want to more now that you did the last time I talked to you. I can hear it in your voice.”
Jared would deny it, but goddamn it all if Chad isn’t right. He casts about his room, wanting to do something dramatic like throw something because that’s what situations like these call for but Jared’s at a loss. He likes all his stuff and he doesn’t particularly want to deal with the grief of breaking something of the hotel’s. And man if he can’t even have a tantrum properly.
He’s really screwed.
“Talk to Lauren,” Chad is saying in his ear.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“She’s an adult. She’ll talk some sense into that giant gourd you call a head.”
“I think I’ve been humiliated enough for one life time, thanks.”
“Fine, get your heart broken Barbie. See if I care.”
Jared is trying to choose between Mac n’ cheese and a steak sandwich and wondering if he can get away with both when he feels fingers insinuate themselves between the bottom of his shirt and the top of his jeans, a thumb rubbing along the cut of his hip.
“Where on earth do you put it all?” Milo asks from behind him, the hand making a quick swipe over his belly before disappearing.
“I’m a growing boy,” Jared snaps, thinking fuck it and loading his plate. He squeaks though when Milo’s hand lands firmly over his crotch and squeezes.
“Oh really?” Milo muses and Jared thinks crazily, I am not being groped in full daylight in the middle of the catering tent.
When he turns, Milo is already heading away and he manages to dump his full plate all over one of the assistants who looks down at herself in dismay and then up at Jared.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” he blurts.
His only sanctuary is his trailer, so when that’s violated Jared kinda feels like losing it.
Milo is leaning over, digging through his backpack and Jared hooks an arm around him and wrenches up and back, grinning at the way Milo’s feet come completely off the floor. He gets a hard kick to the shin that he’s not sure is intentional and then Milo goes limp in his grip. “So, I’m assuming you don’t have any gum then?” Milo asks, and laughs when Jared spins them and brings Milo up against the side of the trailer so hard the whole thing rocks on its blocks.
“What do you want from me?” Jared demands, his voice going low and almost becoming a growl. He’s never heard himself do that before but he can’t seem to let Milo go. He’s just too damn pleased with the way Milo’s still pretty much off his feet, toes only just barely touching and kind of winging back and forth like they’re looking for purchase.
“Thought that was pretty damn obvious,” Milo huffs and he arches his head up and back so his lips skid along Jared’s jaw. It’s awkward as hell and would probably look ridiculous if someone were on the outside looking in but…
“If you wanted to make me mad, congratu-fuckin-lations,” Jared snaps, getting a leg between Milo’s so he’s still pinned against the wall but Jared’s able to get an arm free. He uses his free hand to dig into Milo’s hair and pull his questing mouth away from his skin. It’s just too damn distracting.
Milo though just grinds down on Jared’s thigh instead and everything whites. He’s so angry his whole body is buzzing with it and it’s just turning him on so much that he gets more furious. It seems to be a vicious loop that’s making him crazy with it.
Milo’s arms had been hanging at his sides but now he reaches up and back, his hands locking behind Jared’s neck. “I knew you had it in you,” Milo says with a laugh that sounds a little too gleeful.
Jared drops his grip and steps back. Milo isn’t expecting it so his hands come free and he kind of slides against the trailer wall and then lands on his ass. Jared flicks his hair out of his eyes and smirks because he’s just figured all this out.
“I’m going for a run,” Jared says, surprised at how normal his voice sounds. He unbuckles his jeans and slides them off, unconcerned like he’s alone. Milo turns, still on the floor and then loops his arms over his knees, trying for casual. His eyes give him away though, too dark and pupils blown. Jared steps to the side, toeing his boots off before he can kick his jeans free and then yanks a pair of sweats from his backpack and slides them on. He takes off his t-shirt next, again slow and unconcerned and pulls another over his head. He finds his sneakers kicked under the fold-away table and steps into them.
“Wait,” Milo says, hand coming up and trembling slightly. The other goes to his groin and Jared can tell he’s pressing the heel of his palm where he’s probably growing hot and uncomfortable.
“You don’t get to play games with me,” Jared says. He suddenly feels wiped clean of the anger and it feels good, like he’s just taken a dunk in a glacier-cold lake. His skin breaks out in gooseflesh even. “You might have size issues or whatever but I’m not going to be your torture toy.”
Milo’s mouth drops open and he has no comeback for that.
Jared feels pretty pleased with himself when he leaves the trailer and settles into a leisurely jog.
“I am holding all the cards.”
“Oh really?”
“I am Lord and Master of all I survey.”
“Uhuh.”
“There is upper hand and I have it.”
“You’re disgustingly chipper. Finally get your end wet?”
“I don’t even know why I talk to you,” Jared groans. “You are the crassest human being I’ve ever met.”
“Hey, there’re those that pussy-foot and those that… well, don’t. Are you honestly telling me you’re this happy when you don’t get laid?”
“I uh…” Jared pauses, pushing a hand through his hair. “Wait, no. You’re just…” Ruining it, Jared wants to whine but he’s not sure what Chad has actually ruined per se. He’s had a moral victory, drawn a line in the sand. Milo was just messing with him after all… wasn’t he?
“Maybe he just likes his girls dirty,” Chad notes and Jared fights the urge to throw his phone away from him as hard as he can. He doesn’t want to be accused of being a drama queen.
Milo is waiting for him at his hotel room again, but this time he’s sitting outside in the hallway. He has a bunch of flowers across his lap and one of those ridiculous heart-shaped boxes of chocolates that Jared thought only existed in cartoons.
“Oh, hey,” Milo greets, getting up and looking down at his hands, like he’s not sure where the gifts he’s brought have come from. “I don’t usually… ah… woo, but you seem to need that.”
“Oh my god,” Jared groans, smacking a hand to his face and rubbing down. “Are you actually serious?”
“What can I say?” Milo shrugs, a little self-consciously. “I’m usually better at reading people.”
“You thought that whole thing was what I’d want?”
“I thought that whole thing was what you were aching for,” Milo corrects, his voice dipping low. Jared’s fists clench and he steps forward, backing Milo up into his closed door. The flowers and candy go down and are then dropped when Jared doesn’t stop until they’re pressed together, knee to chest.
“I thought you were just messing with me,” Jared says, narrowing his eyes. Milo, when Jared is this close, is forced to tip his face way back. He’s all angles and lines and Jared wets his lips, seeing the way Milo’s eyes follow the movement.
“I thought you were playing hard to get,” Milo says and Jared dips his head and nips at Milo’s lower lip, biting down when Milo doesn’t do anything and grinning with the lip still held between his teeth when Milo’s hands come up and fist in his shirt.
“How about you say, Jared, I like your ass and want to make sweet, sweet love to you.”
“Oh for chrissakes,” Milo swears and tries to ducks his head away but Jared brings a hand up on either side of his head.
“Sweet, sweet love,” Jared repeats.
“I changed my mind,” Milo declares, but he doesn’t protest when Jared manages to get the door opened behind them and spills them both through.
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That is my favorite part of the story, simply because it sounds dirty.
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