We Love You, Milo
First present for Axel, my wifey's birthday. Off to go make more presents now. :3
It wasn’t like it had turned into a sort of competition or anything. No, not quite. It was a mere…test of strength, determination, and cunning…in hopes of besting the other contender. So, no, no it wasn’t a competition. But just because it wasn’t a tournament of trials or anything of the sort, didn’t mean that the two participants of this particular event felt any less compelled to win at all costs. Alright, maybe it was a competition.
There Milo was, sitting alone in the library, nose in a book, memorizing every word and detail of said book. So absorbed was he in his studying he hadn’t the slightest chance of hearing Cale sneak up behind him and put his hands on his shoulders. Shocked was a mild description of Milo when Cale’s hands connected to his shoulder.
“Shhh,” Cale said, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “I’m just here to say hi. Your lunch money and whatever else bullies generally take is safe.” Cale let loose a slow chuckle as he grabbed a chair so as to sit down beside the thin shifter.
Milo, during his short absence had the presence of mind to recover from his shock long enough to fix the pureblood vampire with, what he hoped was, a death glare. Unfortunately, the immortal did not keel over and die. His glare had failed in its mission as it always did.
“What did you want, Cale?” Milo asked irritably. Just because he didn’t hate the vampire anymore did not give Cale the ability to sneak up on him, scare him, and escape his wrath.
“Just to sit and talk with you. Is that such a crime?” Cale asked, leaning closer in his seat. He really did have a problem with personal space and boundaries didn’t he? In an attempt to circumvent his ever pressing forward, Milo leaned away from him, only to encounter another warm body.
Said body began speaking in a rather familiar voice, “It is when you so clearly disturb him, fangbanger.”
“Save your breath, mutt, I’m not here to fight or sexually arouse you,” Cale responded in his usual sarcastic way. At this point, Milo fully believed the old wives tale about a person’s face being stuck in one way merely because they’d made it so many times. Cale’s, as it were, was stuck in an arrogant smirk, just like it always was.
“I think you mean sexually harass,” Flynn responded with a glare.
If one could have heard Milo’s inner dialogue, which thankfully you are reading rather than observing this scene so you can, one would have heard the following cry of desperation:
Help! I’m stuck between an idiot and a werewolf who want to kill each other! Help me!
However, that cry, given that it was solely inside his head, went unanswered by anyone who could have been of any help, seeing as they could not hear said cry.
“You know you love it,” Cale retorted with a wink.
“I hate it and you know it!”
Milo slowly sank in his seat as the two began bickering, or flirting depending on which way you looked at it, back and forth. Why couldn’t they just take their differences outside and leave him alone? This was ridiculous. Maybe he could figure a way out on his own. Just slowly sneak out from between them, slowly so as not to alert suspicion and then, once the coast was clear, make a dash for freedom. Yes, this could work, it really could, he just had to make sure they were still bickering rather than diverting their attention to one uncomfortable shapeshifter.
“Aww come on baby, I know you love me,” said Cale.
“I don’t love you, I hate you!” exclaimed Flynn.
Yes, they were still bickering. It was now or never.
Slowly reaching his foot forward so as not to attract unwanted attention, Milo began slinking his way down and forward, hopefully towards freedom from this rather awkward situation. He involuntarily held his breath as he felt himself move even further away from the scene of the fight. He could do this! He could make this! He, Milo Thatch, was a master spy, an amazing ninja, a magnificent escapee.
“And where do you think you’re going?” An arm slithered it’s way around his waist, connecting to the opposite arm of the chair, successfully trapping him in the very seat he had been so desperate to escape. He, Milo Thatch, was caught.
“You weren’t thinking of leaving us so soon, were you?” the brunette to his left questioned him.
“We didn’t mean anything by our arguing, honest,” the blonde on his right said.
Milo, again, found himself trapped. This time, though, the walls had begun to close in on him. On the one hand, Flynn had pulled his chair closer and was leaning in, his mouth tantalizingly close to his ear. On the other, Cale, whose chair had been too close to pull in any more from the start was also encroaching upon Milo’s space, more than usual, his mouth also close to Milo’s ear. And cue the blushing.
“Yeah, Milo, Cale didn’t mean to be such an insensitive asshole by fighting around you,” Flynn said in a sickeningly sweet voice.
“And Flynn didn’t mean to hurt you by being such a cheeky bastard,” Cale added on.
“T-that’s nice,” Milo said, cursing his stutter as he tried to defuse the situation he could feel brewing between the two students beside him, “I’m sure neither of you meant any harm, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to be going. Unless the two of you actually had something you needed to talk to me about.”
Milo could practically feel the dual smirks on their faces at his words. What is it with people and smirking? And then, when both boys planted a kiss on the cheek nearest them, Milo understood the reason for their grins.
Milo felt a blush forming as their kisses lingered, Cale’s slowly moving down to his neck.
Eventually, Flynn broke off his affectionate action to whisper in Milo’s ear, “Just wanted to remind you that we cared.” The werewolf then went and planted another kiss on his cheek.
“We love you, Milo,” Cale whispered in his ear before returning as well to laying affectionate kisses upon the thin shapeshifter.
It wasn’t like it had turned into a sort of competition or anything. No, not quite. It was a mere…test of strength, determination, and cunning…in hopes of besting the other contender. So, no, no it wasn’t a competition. But just because it wasn’t a tournament of trials or anything of the sort, didn’t mean that the two participants of this particular event felt any less compelled to win at all costs. Alright, maybe it was a competition.
There Milo was, sitting alone in the library, nose in a book, memorizing every word and detail of said book. So absorbed was he in his studying he hadn’t the slightest chance of hearing Cale sneak up behind him and put his hands on his shoulders. Shocked was a mild description of Milo when Cale’s hands connected to his shoulder.
“Shhh,” Cale said, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “I’m just here to say hi. Your lunch money and whatever else bullies generally take is safe.” Cale let loose a slow chuckle as he grabbed a chair so as to sit down beside the thin shifter.
Milo, during his short absence had the presence of mind to recover from his shock long enough to fix the pureblood vampire with, what he hoped was, a death glare. Unfortunately, the immortal did not keel over and die. His glare had failed in its mission as it always did.
“What did you want, Cale?” Milo asked irritably. Just because he didn’t hate the vampire anymore did not give Cale the ability to sneak up on him, scare him, and escape his wrath.
“Just to sit and talk with you. Is that such a crime?” Cale asked, leaning closer in his seat. He really did have a problem with personal space and boundaries didn’t he? In an attempt to circumvent his ever pressing forward, Milo leaned away from him, only to encounter another warm body.
Said body began speaking in a rather familiar voice, “It is when you so clearly disturb him, fangbanger.”
“Save your breath, mutt, I’m not here to fight or sexually arouse you,” Cale responded in his usual sarcastic way. At this point, Milo fully believed the old wives tale about a person’s face being stuck in one way merely because they’d made it so many times. Cale’s, as it were, was stuck in an arrogant smirk, just like it always was.
“I think you mean sexually harass,” Flynn responded with a glare.
If one could have heard Milo’s inner dialogue, which thankfully you are reading rather than observing this scene so you can, one would have heard the following cry of desperation:
Help! I’m stuck between an idiot and a werewolf who want to kill each other! Help me!
However, that cry, given that it was solely inside his head, went unanswered by anyone who could have been of any help, seeing as they could not hear said cry.
“You know you love it,” Cale retorted with a wink.
“I hate it and you know it!”
Milo slowly sank in his seat as the two began bickering, or flirting depending on which way you looked at it, back and forth. Why couldn’t they just take their differences outside and leave him alone? This was ridiculous. Maybe he could figure a way out on his own. Just slowly sneak out from between them, slowly so as not to alert suspicion and then, once the coast was clear, make a dash for freedom. Yes, this could work, it really could, he just had to make sure they were still bickering rather than diverting their attention to one uncomfortable shapeshifter.
“Aww come on baby, I know you love me,” said Cale.
“I don’t love you, I hate you!” exclaimed Flynn.
Yes, they were still bickering. It was now or never.
Slowly reaching his foot forward so as not to attract unwanted attention, Milo began slinking his way down and forward, hopefully towards freedom from this rather awkward situation. He involuntarily held his breath as he felt himself move even further away from the scene of the fight. He could do this! He could make this! He, Milo Thatch, was a master spy, an amazing ninja, a magnificent escapee.
“And where do you think you’re going?” An arm slithered it’s way around his waist, connecting to the opposite arm of the chair, successfully trapping him in the very seat he had been so desperate to escape. He, Milo Thatch, was caught.
“You weren’t thinking of leaving us so soon, were you?” the brunette to his left questioned him.
“We didn’t mean anything by our arguing, honest,” the blonde on his right said.
Milo, again, found himself trapped. This time, though, the walls had begun to close in on him. On the one hand, Flynn had pulled his chair closer and was leaning in, his mouth tantalizingly close to his ear. On the other, Cale, whose chair had been too close to pull in any more from the start was also encroaching upon Milo’s space, more than usual, his mouth also close to Milo’s ear. And cue the blushing.
“Yeah, Milo, Cale didn’t mean to be such an insensitive asshole by fighting around you,” Flynn said in a sickeningly sweet voice.
“And Flynn didn’t mean to hurt you by being such a cheeky bastard,” Cale added on.
“T-that’s nice,” Milo said, cursing his stutter as he tried to defuse the situation he could feel brewing between the two students beside him, “I’m sure neither of you meant any harm, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to be going. Unless the two of you actually had something you needed to talk to me about.”
Milo could practically feel the dual smirks on their faces at his words. What is it with people and smirking? And then, when both boys planted a kiss on the cheek nearest them, Milo understood the reason for their grins.
Milo felt a blush forming as their kisses lingered, Cale’s slowly moving down to his neck.
Eventually, Flynn broke off his affectionate action to whisper in Milo’s ear, “Just wanted to remind you that we cared.” The werewolf then went and planted another kiss on his cheek.
“We love you, Milo,” Cale whispered in his ear before returning as well to laying affectionate kisses upon the thin shapeshifter.