( mathias has never been so scared in his life β or has he? the feeling claws at him from the inside out, his heart still pounding, adrenaline racing through his veins. he's ran like that before, away from something, from someone, feet pounding against the ground as he carries himself quickly but perhaps not quickly enough. it's familiar, and that's terrifying β
though not as terrifying as mat finds himself in this moment, as his fingers curl in on themselves into fists, mercifully hidden beneath the longer sleeves of his jacket. what had he done?
those men were pursuing them without hesitation, with little regard for the remaining slush mucking up the sidewalks of the city, and had milo not grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the way β he would've been a goner. except that then, with their would-be attackers in hot pursuit, that meant that milo was in danger, too, and mat simply couldn't allow this kindhearted boy to suffer on his account, for something that neither of them could even begin to understand.
it's that thought that lead mat to whirl upon their pursuers, brow furrowed intently, as a swirl of glittering, frosty light burst from the centers of his palms, and struck the pair, and he watched in wonderment as ice crept up the boots of the men, up their legs, their torsos, their arms, crossed defensively, their faces full of fear like they knew what was coming. like they'd seen this happen before.
come on, milo whispered frantically as he yanked mat away, and the next thing he knew, he was running for dear life, afraid of what might happen if those men were to break free from that ice β that ice that he'd created. but what if the ice was a permanent punishment, unable to be reversed? what if mathias β could he have ... ?
these are the thoughts that wrack mat's mind as he all-but paces milo's living room, arms hugging tightly around himself as he stares determinedly down at the floor. the temperature inside feels about the same as outside, but mat pays no mind to it, even if it drops further and further the more his mind races, considering all of the grim possibilities. he can't seem to catch his breath, panting softly, quickly, wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself and isolate before he hurts anyone else. before he hurts milo.
milo. he's safe, at least for now, within the four walls of his apartment β at least if mat has anything to say about it. )
Milo β thank you for β ( everything? rescuing him yet again? giving him a place to sleep? mat finally tries to articulate what he doesn't know how to articulate, but it doesn't quite come out the right way considering the tightness in his throat as he lifts his head and looks at the boy with the bright hair, heart racing, overwhelmed in every way the moment he meets his gaze.
he wants to feel confident. he doesn't want to be so scared. he wants to unlock the part of himself that's been here the whole time, hidden away in plain sight. )
[ people have been talking a lot about global warming these days. san francisco isn't the warmest californian city, not when it's on the waterfront and summers still often require a sweater on hand ( lots of tourists make that rookie mistake ). with the polar vortext on the east coast, it wasn't that unusual the first time, but without the cold settling entirely over the entire country, the follow-up freak snow storms require some additional explanation. meteorologists have been scratching their heads.
there is a lot to still uncover, but he doesn't think that's from mat, even though he could sense something unusual about him from the moment they first met.
at least they had been somewhat prepared. that's what milo tells himself as they tear through the busy, crooked streets of this city with mathias finally unlocking those powers milo had only dreamt about. milo's sleepy eyes had widened in wonder as he watched that burst of light from his hands, the way the frost quickly crept up their legs. that had to have been more than enough to stop them but not enough to stop milo from grabbing his hand and pulling him away to safety. it's a shock to the system and he at least has some survival skills hidden deep down. besides, someone has to keep their head while the other is discovering powers.
they can't talk about it now. they have to get to where it's safe which is why he leaves work in the middle of the day and runs up the stairs to his apartment where they both are now comfortable. he slams the door shut behind him, leaning against it with his round cheeks puffed as he tries to catch his breath. it's silent. they both need a moment, mathias more than he. ]
Don't.
[ he exhales, lifting his head up with a half-grin as he pushes himself up off the door to stand on shaky legs. ] You've thanked me enough. [ crossing the room, he lays a hand on the other boy's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. ]
( milo steps towards mat across the threshold, and just about every part of him yells at him to back away, put as much space between the two of them as he possibly can. he should leave this apartment and never return, remove himself in order to remove the seemingly guaranteed danger from milo's sphere, no matter how little he knows about this apparent threat.
those icy blasts only sprang from his palms in a moment of pure terror, and right now, mathias find himself still as afraid as ever β of himself, more than anything. he doesn't know what he's capable of, this newfound power within him. one wrong move and he could freeze milo, too, reduce him to nothing but a well-sculpted ice statue. how can he control something he doesn't understand?
before he can even think to act on those intrusive thoughts, milo's voice stops him in his tracks. don't. so he doesn't. it does little to soothe the immediate instinct to recoil when that hand grips his shoulder; mat flinches, folded arms tightening in on themselves. the earnest half-grin that spreads across the other boy's cheeks hits him hard, even as his brows knit together with seemingly perpetual worry, even as his whole body seems to shake with the harsh waves of adrenaline that rocket insistently through his veins. )
Milo ...
( he doesn't even know what he wants to say; does he push him away like his mind says he should, or does he pull him in closer like his heart wants? mathias can be rational β he can think clearly, make the right choice, or so he thinks. )
You shouldn't β you shouldn't be so close to me, Milo, what if I β ?
Hey, I know enough to know that you wouldn't hurt me.
[ flashes of kindness, tender moments, hints of feelings that have made him question where this partnership intends to go. milo has barely scratched the surface of it, too involved in this frosty mystery to direct much of his energies towards it. it hadn't taken him very long to care for the boy he so eagerly took in, despite said boy not knowing much about himself ( despite said boy barely knowing how to pick up a room without some nagging. )
he means it when he says he has never met anyone like him β someone who carries himself in a way that surely requires so much training, who speaks in such a way that reminds him of fairytales or classic novels meant for book reports. of course he wants to help him, even protect him in any way he can. they have already come this far in their search, in their time together. why should he take a step back now?
so he had missed the mark on the source of the snow, initially believing it to be a new player in this strange game, but in a way he is kind of relieved. it's another piece of this boy that they can add to the puzzle. but they're not going to worry about that now. what he's going to worry about it talking him down from this precipice before he turns this apartment into a frozen landscape. even with his hand on mat's shoulder, he can sense that thread of tension pulled so tightly it might snap and, without much of a thought, he does the first thing that pops into his brain, something he's seen and read about before that allegedly redirects worries.
he kisses him with one single step forward to close the space between their bodies, proof that he has no fear of him, wanting mathias to breathe again. it will be okay. ]
at least that's what it feels like for mathias the moment warm lips catch his own β and if the intention was to insist that he breathe, that's been turned entirely on its head. he thinks that his heart may have stopped, a thousand thoughts rushing into his mind all at once, some images flying by too quickly for him to even consider snatching and holding onto.
he has never been kissed before, that much he's able to tell right away from the unfamiliarity of it, the mere thrill of something new; the specifics are more than hazy but he's always known himself to be a dutiful person, prioritizing his studies, bettering himself if only to help in bettering the lives of people around him. romance has always seemed a little frivolous, maybe even selfish. but this ...? feels anything but, a selfless act of trust by this bright haired boy before him, the boy who he has grown indelibly fond of, for whom his loyalties seem to grow stronger by the day.
his lips practically tingle with the reminder of that kiss when they part, when mathias is forced to remember how to breathe again, a shuddering thing as his nose bumps against milo's, eyes still fluttered shut, arms slowly relaxing until they can drop to his sides, even if his fingertips dare to itch with a desire to touch him ... and he shouldn't, the logical part of him says, the part of mathias who knows the type of danger that the two of them are still in, the part that wants to solve the mystery of his own identity, the part that's very quickly realized the capabilities of these newly-revealed powers of his.
maybe it's the rest of his adrenaline that makes him do it, or just some deeply buried desire to do what he shouldn't just this once, though he hardly knows the reasons that he's so hard on himself, so rigid and strict and proper at all times. there's a small tip of his chin and mat catches milo's lips in another kiss, more exploratory than anything as fingers almost hesitantly reach to rest on milo's hips. this is terrifying in all of the very worst ways, the very best ways, something so new and so dangerous, and it's enough to bring forth a practical gust of swirling wind from seemingly nowhere, snowflakes dancing through the otherwise static air inside of this simple apartment, enough to ruffle through strands of hair, turquoise and silvery grey both. )
[ for a split second, he thinks he has severely overstepped his boundaries especially since mathias has been nothing but respectful. polite to a fault and stiff in so many regards. it's never been a negative thing in milo's eyes because he's really just been careful to respect whatever customs or habits the other has in order for him to be comfortable.
but then mathias does the last thing he expects ( though that doesn't say anything about what he had secretly hoped for ) and ventures for another kiss. and that's some kiss, the wind sweeping through this closed apartment, tugging at the ends of clothes and hair. the chill is harder to ignore this time around. he can't help that tiny grin on his lips when he returns it, hand turning over from his shoulder to gently curve around mat's jaw, emboldened by the weight of the other boy's hands on his hips.
this isn't as new to him, though it has been a while since he had been with anyone, and he wouldn't he able to tell that it's brand new to mathias either. but they are new and that makes it all the more exciting.
he wants to say something reassuring but milo has never been all that great with words, instead exhaling against his lips and keeping his eyes closed seconds after that second kiss. they open again, this time to look up at the snowflakes seemingly suspended in midair around them. it's a small thing but this apartmen has never looked nicer.
( mathias doesn't want this kiss to end, wants to feel milo's lips against his for as long as he possibly can, wants milo to press closer to him β and his mind races with all of the possibilities, ones that leave his cheeks pink and warm, and he is less shy about how he leans into the hand at his jaw once their lips finally do part now that the line of physical contact has been crossed. there's no turning back now.
lashes flutter closed, unfazed by those glittering flakes that have taken over the room, and a soft sound leaves him, something between a pleased hum and a whine, and it surprises even mat, not that he lets that show in his expression, plush of his lower lip curled into a natural hint of a pout that he isn't quite aware of. their faces are still close, close enough for mat's lips to brush against milo's as he sighs, tries to gather his thoughts without much avail.
nothing had ever felt so dangerous as those men pursuing them, but the knot in mathias's stomach right now screams otherwise, like the wind has been knocked out of him β and his heart is still pounding, now for entirely different reasons altogether. )
Milo β ( he murmurs, soft as ever as his palm accidentally drift from the belt loops of his pants up to the fabric of his shirt so his fingers can curl into the fabric of his shirt at his lower back, pull himself a little closer and cling to milo even more. the question that leaves his lips is asked with very little pretense, a shy request. ) Kiss me again? You don't have to ... be shy on my behalf β or restrained, or polite β Please ...
[ he swallows around the sudden dryness in his throat. is he ...? does he really want ...?
milo will have to check to make sure but first. first he needs to kiss this boy without any restraint, without playing it safe. so he does, his gaze flicking down to that pouting mouth before he presses his own lips against it, gently nudging those lips apart with a prying tongue. he inhales, encouraging him to part his lips, mimic the way he tilts his own head so that they can kiss a little deeper, with more warmth and more obvious desire bubbling beneath the surface.
one hand presses against the small of mathias's back, pressing their bodies flush together. he follows the other boy's lead in these motions, not wanting to go overboard, not wanting him to regret wanting whatever this is. ]
You β you want more?
[ but before he can even get an answer, milo is already gingerly, slowly backing the other boy towards the nearest surface, not the couch β ah. after some stumbling, he can press him against the wall near his bedroom. they stand eye to eye, chest to chest, and he pulls away briefly to flash that lopsided smile, though his eyes have darkened with desire. ] Tell me what you want, Mat.
( oh β now this is precisely what mat has wanted but didn't quite know how to ask for, head tipping the direction opposite milo so he can meet that deeper, more insistent kiss and β his heart practically leaps into his throat and his stomach turns completely upside down when he just barely catches milo's tongue with his own. it's not what mat expected but it's good, and mat is a smart boy, nothing if not a quick learner, especially when it comes to what makes him happy, what makes other people happy.
he meets milo's mouth with a newfound eagerness, lips sliding against the other boy's, more than happy to follow his lead as milo licks into his mouth again, and β
he gasps softly as that hand presses against his lower back, bodies flush against one another and β goodness, he's so warm, warmer than warm, and it's dizzying, leaves his lips parted. the answer to milo's question dances on the tip of his tongue, but it's quickly vanquished by the feeling of his back hitting the wall, a palm grazing up over his back so it can curl around the back of milo's neck, needing desperately to hold onto something.
overwhelmed doesn't even begin to cover it, but the way that milo smiles at him, heavily lidded eyes betraying a lot more than the typical earnest boyishness of that grin, is enough to make him weak in the knees, to make his cheeks flood with warmth despite the cold in the air, to make his hips flex instinctively against the other boy's. )
Milo, I want β ( oh. words feel impossible as his mouth hangs open uselessly. it's embarrassing, maybe, to be rendered so speechless over such a simple question, but the possibilities alone are enough to make his cheeks flush even further. mat's head angles towards milo's instinctively, gaze lowering before his eyes flutter closed, fingers curling even tighter into the fabric of his shirt at his lower back. ) You. I want you.
[ it's like neither of them can stop repeating the other's name; milo wants to keep mathias in his head, on his mind. his days have been filled with this beautiful frost boy and he suddenly cannot imagine the rest of his days without him. and that's a lot. for once in his life, he isn't fidgeting, he isn't second-guessing. he's following his instincts and, more importantly, his heart.
his natural warmth balances the chill that mat has brought into this space and he revels in being the reason that blush is so deep on this boy's cheeks. they both have faces that look far too innocent for the thoughts that are surely running through both their heads, but that makes it all the more fun, milo thinks as his lips hover over the other's without kissing him yet. he is waiting on a response after all.
and once he gets it β
oh.
it's a simple thing but it strikes him like a bolt of lightning. there's such desperation behind mat's eyes, uncertainty over what to do with himself now that he's tapped into a few new ( or at least once-concealed ) parts of him. it would be uncouth to take advantage of his vulnerability and that is the last thing milo wants, having kissed him first to try to center him. his own blush deepens and he nods slowly. ]
I wasn't β I didn't want to β but. [ a soft titter follows his stammering. ] I want you too.
[ loath to release him, he'll risk stumbling in the process as he gently guides mat towards his bed, hands on slender hips. his eyes never leave those bright blue ones and he gives his hip a squeeze as their legs meet the foot of his bed. ]
( it's a relief, somehow, to hear those words slip past milo's lips that mathias can still taste β validation, perhaps, that these sudden feelings storming inside of him are legitimate, not just a product of the danger that has befallen them, except ...
except mathias is still scared, and the more he thinks about how afraid he was in that moment, about what was unleashed from his palms because of it, the more scared he gets. somehow, this new unknown with milo feels welcoming, a pleasant alternative that mat is prepared to dive headfirst into if it means forgetting about what has happened, if only temporarily, especially if it means losing himself in this boy that he's very quickly realizing he cares for deeply β even more deeply than he had thought possible.
it's overwhelming, this realization, a thought that makes his throat tighten until he swallows hard, forehead still nudged against milo's and holding onto him so very tightly as he's guided from the wall, backed into the bedroom that mat finds so familiar from the (admittedly more than anticipated) nights in which milo insists he take the bed versus the couch. his eyes are bright as ever as his calves hit the bed frame, a little startled by it, but he buries that surprise in another stolen kiss, a quick thing, so that milo can speak again β )
Alright, I β ( and mat swallows again, fingers dragging along the side of the other boy's neck as he sits at the edge of the mattress and can't quite reach any longer. the absence of milo's warmth pressed against him is staggering, and though the swirls of snowflakes that have ignored the boundaries of this new room and dance through the air and land on milo's furniture don't bother him, he's simply incapable of ignoring that need to have this boy close.
so his knees might part instinctively, newly free hand joining his other at the small of milo's back, tugging him needily towards him until he's flush between his thighs, and mat tips his head up to meet his gaze, bright blue peeking from behind tousled strands of silvery white, teeth catching his lip as he finds himself practically begging for more through his gaze alone, too shy to say it out loud, to verbalize anything other than a soft: ) Please ...
[ he doesn't think he has ever felt or seen mathias so fragile, but he knows that isn't the case; today proves what has been niggling at the back of his mind since they first met. he is strong and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. that combination β the contradiction β is doubly attractive to him. he likes the snow, he wants the snow and not just because he's some west coast boy who thinks 50 degrees is freezing cold.
mat's eyes are always so enchanting ( he thinks that's the right word for it ), almost unnatural on his face, but then again, it's not every day you meet a boy with naturally silvery hair and the ability to make the world freeze over. he doesn't expect the desperation from him and that single please is like a jolt of electricity below his navel.
jesus.
he's sweating and cold, ardent but cautious, pink cheeks beneath the fall of bright blue hair. slowly he lowers himself to his knees, hands pressed firmly against mat's slender thighs to keep them secure around him. where to start? he wants βΒ naked. but mat also wants. so milo thinks quickly, sorting through his scattered thoughts as he slides his hands up the other's legs to undo his pants. ]
You can tell me when to stop, [ he says carefully, hooking his fingers into the hem of those pants, wanting to pull them down his legs. ] I won't be mad at all.
( milo lowers himself to his knees before him and mat watches with wide-eyed wonder, lips parted and hands wandering absently against milo's shoulders, his forearms out of sheer need to touch him, some way and some how, as palms caress his thighs almost reverently. he doesn't even realize that he's holding his breath until those deft fingers unbutton his pants β until mat exhales sharply, meeting milo's gaze and seemingly unable to look away.
there's a moment where he can hardly do anything but gape a little as he curls fingers into his waistband β but he finally nods emphatically, practically whispers out a soft, ) Okay.
( and there's a bundle of nervous energy that coils low in his stomach, but that is exciting to mat, this boy who has felt uncertain about most everything in his life, certain about something at last β about how much he trusts milo, how milo will take care of him, how milo is the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last when he lays his head down to sleep. anything new is bound to be frightening, but they'll be together, just as they've been.
his hands leave milo's arms so that his fingers can curl into the blanket beneath him, hips lifting to allow milo to tug his trousers off of him, chest and cheeks flushing even further once he realizes just how much more of him is exposed, the curved stretch of cotton briefs straining against him entirely unsubtle. mat has been β turned on before, of course, but this is perhaps the first time that he's wanted to do anything about it other than willing himself to think about anything but.
no, milo still kneels between his legs, and mat thinks about his mouth with a jolt that practically makes his heart stop, thinks about that crooked grin, thinks about the warm slide of milo's lips against his, his tongue β nngh, gods, he's already leaking against the soft cotton, far too eager, and it's then that he's hit with a spark of courageousness which makes him lift his hips up again and tug down his underwear, a hand hastily reaching out to grab milo's, fingers linking together and squeezing once, as much of a reassurance to himself as it is to milo that he wants this β wants him. )
[ he's never done anything like this before β not the sex part. milo has had a fair share of partners despite what his youthful appearance might let on. not even his dreams could have prepared him for the heady rush of emotions he feels as their eyes meet, as he pulls his pants down his skinny legs. milo has spent years parsing out who he is, what his powers are, what he can do with them now that he has a handle on it. his initial intent had always been to help, having received fair warning of what was to happen: a beautiful boy, snow, danger.
he's old enough to know that sex doesn't always equal love and that sex is often more than a problem than it is a solution. yet every fiber in his being wants to show mat that he's cared for, that he's protected, that milo himself will do just about anything to ensure that he always feels good. milo is the keeper of a magical, mysterious boy who looks at him like he's hung the moon just for him and β how could milo not want him to earnestly, so ardently?
his hands begin to slide up bare legs when. oh.. mathias has begun to pull his underwear down and he can't help the way his eyes drop to his lap as he exposes himself, unable to help that very shameless licking of his own lips. any other nervous questions he might have had die instantly on his tongue and he smiles crookedly and reassuringly, squeezing their joined hands. softly, he lifts them to kiss mat's knuckles before resting their joined hands on the bed, reluctant to let him go.
it's just the confidence boost he needs to rise up quickly, stealing one of many kisses today will bring as his left hand leaves mat's thigh to curl around his ready length, stroking him slowly and gently to at least prepare him before he thinks to use his mouth. he licks the other's bottom lip, a small hint of what's to follow.
murmuring against his mouth, milo exhales: ]
I β I wanna make you feel good.
[ pulling away, he lowers his head and licks the head in his grasp tentatively, once, twice, waiting for the reaction. ]
( mat is reassured by each and every move that milo makes, the reassuring squeeze of his hand in return that assuages his nerves from fumbling with his clothes, the soft, tender brush of lips against knuckles that tell him that everything is okay. those very same lips meet his own only moments later, almost a surprise, but it's a welcome one, mouth pliable as he can feel milo pressing closer to him and β oh β )
Milo β
( it's gasped against the other boy's lips as his other hand wraps around his length, strokes him slowly, the sensation unlike anything he's ever felt; there's a little friction, but milo's hand slides easier against him as that precome coats his fingers. it's overwhelming β it's completely overwhelming β but milo touches him so slowly, so carefully, that mat is able to let that surprise give way to how good it feels, a heat bubbling low in his stomach that contrasts so sharply with the snowflakes that fall more insistently now from seemingly nowhere.
i wanna make you feel good, milo murmurs, and were mat coherent, he'd steal kiss after kiss until he could hardly breathe any longer, pant against his mouth as his heart races, and tell him again and again and again how good he's making him feel right now, every nerve ending alight, sparking more intensely by the moment.
it still doesn't prepare him for the feeling of milo's tongue, warm and hot and wet, dragging against the head of his cock, tasting him, licking him slowly, taking his time with mat ... and a sound escapes him, starting something like a moan and trailing off into a low whine, chin tipped backwards and lashes fluttered closed, his fingers squeezing milo's hand so tightly he may never be able to let go. there are about an infinite number of things that mathias wants to say, but his thoughts race endlessly, practically incomprehensible. but he wants to try, has to try, and it ends up manifesting in a soft, stammered: ) Milo, Milo, please, that feels so β I'm so β you're incredible β
[ snow clings to his hair, his clothes, melting instantly on his skin; it makes milo look otherworldly in his own right, like some neon sprite with all his colors. he can't help but look up again after shoe initial licks, the gleam in his cat-like eyes giving way to something much more darker though it isn't entirely out of place on milo's face.
he isn't sure how much experience mat has had, not wanting to assume much about the holes in his memory. what he does know is that if this is the first one he's making here, he wants the first time to be meaningful and memorable. of course, he feels a swell of pride in his chest, in knowing that he is wanted, he has been chosen. mat has carved out so much space for himself in his life, in his thoughts, and while milo tries to manage the mundane everyday responsibilities along with it, he wouldn't have it any other way.
encouraged by the snow, the squeeze of his hand, the needy whimpers from the object of his affection, he parts his lips a little more so that he can take him in. not all the way, not yet, just enough for the tip to sit heavily on his tongue. his eyes remain closed as he sucks lightly, round cheeks hollowing around it.
it's a good feeling, a good taste on his tongue; he hadn't realized how much he had wanted it, far more concerned with getting to the bottom of this mystery they both have been solving. stress makes people do unusual things, though he would argue that sex as a release isn't all that strange; if anything, it's merely another step in this journey they're taking together.
after a beat or two, he lowers his head, throat adjusting easily to the intrusion. ]
( mathias is nothing if not unsubtle with each and every reaction that passes through him, chin tipped upwards and lashes grazing against his cheeks, practically white knuckled as he squeezes milo's hand, squeezes the sheets bunched up in his fist, as milo takes him into the hot cave of his mouth. there's another groan at the building pressure as those lips wrap around him so expertly, as milo's tongue lingers at the bottom of his cock, salivating around him ...
gods, this is unlike anything that mat has ever experienced before, a rapidly tightening knot coiling in his stomach, and his mind is already racing as he thinks about making milo feel this good in return, this boy who deserves the world and then some, who will get it if this boy has anything to say about it β
and then mat's brain effectively ceases operations as milo takes him deeper into his mouth, and he can feel the head of his cock bumping against the back of his throat as he bottoms out, inhaling sharply as his hand reaches out to curl into mussed turquoise locks, desperate for as much contact with milo as he can manage. he can feel a sensation building in his gut and it practically leaves him trembling, laying back against the sheets with silvery blonde hair falling in his eyes, lips seeming to be eternally parted. )
Gods, Milo β ( he practically whimpers, head lifting fruitlessly because he wants to watch milo, but with even the slightest, reflexive movement of milo's tongue against him, he's overwhelmed, head falling back against the mattress. a gust of wind bursts through the room, ruffling milo's hair even with mat's fingers curled into it, carrying with it snowflakes that land on mat's cheeks, stick to his lashes, coating the furniture, coating the blankets, starting to accumulate. )
[ he's careful and slow-moving, but eager as tears linger on his lashes because he's taking mat in so deeply, wanting him to feel every rumble from his throat as he groans around him, wanting him to feel the path of his lips as he resurfaces with a soft pop. it feels good, the way mat grips his hair and his hand, and he only ever wants to be that person this boy can cling to when nothing else seems to make sense.
but they do.
there is no question about that. he wouldn't let anyone into his house or into his heart so easily, but there is something that not even fate could have given in him his dreams, something there that wraps them both so tightly around each other. his full lips seem to shine even before he licks them, encouraging one of mat's legs to hang over his shoulder for a moment so that he can curve a hand around his thigh, pressing wet kisses against it. his instinct is to leave a mark but it feels wrong to mar such delicate, fair skin.
so he scrapes his teeth delicately against the sensitive inner skin, kissing his way back to his apex where he takes his cock in his free hand and strokes him slowly. ]
I β [ he's literally in the middle of sucking him off and yet milo still blushes. ] I could make you come like this, Mat. You want me to?
( milo takes such care with him, with each bob of his head slow as he takes him, with each languid pull of his lips around his cock when he draws back up again, tongue lavishing against the underside of the head, and mat feels everything so intensely, like nothing he's ever experienced before, overwhelming every sense in every sense. he realizes that he's squirming a little, hips lifting just so to chase the movements of those beautiful lips β
warm feels like an understatement, even as snowflakes dot his skin and melt away; mathias is flushed, heat radiating off of his skin as he succumbs to these newfound desires, panting softly and fingers squeezing milo's when a particularly strong wave of pleasure rolls through him, making him moan loudly, lewdly, in a way that otherwise might make his typically reserved self perish at the mere thought.
he's given a brief respite as his leg is guided up and over milo's shoulder letting out a long exhale that turns shuddery as those full lips drift over to the inside of his thigh, pressing the same kind of languid kiss that they'd shared, now against his skin, tongue darting out to taste him, and oh. there's milo's fingers again, stroking him nice and steadily, keeping him ready, the head of his cock pink and swollen and leaking prettily.
mat swallows hard and lifts his head, looking more than a little blissed out, but still keen to look at milo, with his bright eyes and his rosy cheeks and his hand still moving rhythmically and. and. gods. the question leaves his head practically spinning, and mat's lips part as though to speak once, twice, maybe even three times before he manages: ) I β I. Yes, I β want you to.
[ with the tiniest smile, he releases mat's hand to ruck his shirt up, making room for his own kisses as he leans further over his body, kissing around his hip bone, trailing closer to his belly button. it seems like there isn't an inch of skin he hasn't seen at this point, but he wants more. ]
Good. You β you don't need to warn me, okay? But it's also okay if you do.
[ his laughter is muffled against all that fair skin, his forehead pressed against mat's abdomen. he's essentially given him permission to come down his throat without saying it in so many dirty words so as not to completely startle him.
though, he is giving this boy head as they speak so perhaps all sense of priority should be thrown out the window.
there's heat behind his eyes but also a world of adoration because he can't believe he has this beautiful boy spread out before him, that he's the one who gets to hear those noises, the way his name falls from those pouting lips. milo lowers his head to take him in again, enjoying the weight on his tongue, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks and pulls himself up. with lowered lashes, he's determined to finish this, to see him unravel. ]
( mat ought to feel self-conscious as milo pushes his shirt up over his belly, exposing more of his delicate, pale skin to him, but it's truly hard to mind such a thing when the feeling of those long, languid kisses against his abdomen washes over him, when he's unable to keep from squirming a little beneath that lovely, warm mouth. it's distracting β and then some, truly β to the point where mat's answer to milo's question is a beat and a half delayed, a soft, breathed: )
Okay, Milo.
( even if mat is barely cognizant of what he's saying okay to, just that those soft puffs of laughter against his skin tickle and that milo's forehead pressed against his stomach feels so warm, just like the warmth behind his gaze as milo looks up at him, so strong that mat thinks he might just melt here and now.
he's spent so much time in the past few weeks being unsure of himself, missing so many things and afraid of what those things may be β but mat can't think of any of that now, can only lose himself in the feeling of milo's tongue against him, the drag of his lips as he lowers his head, the way he salivates around him, bobbing his head up and down, the feeling coiled deep in his belly tightening and burning white hot until he can't take it anymore, coming undone, with a final, frantic gasp of milo's name, fingers grasping at curly strands of dark hair, seeing nothing but white, white, white and he's not sure if it's from the snow zigzagging through the room or from the overwhelming sensation washing over him but it doesn't matter because he feels like he's floating now, too caught up in milo ...
when it's all said and done, mat flops back against the sheets, panting softly, vaguely trying to regain himself but content to ride this high he's certain he'd like to ride forever. )
[ grasping mat with one hand, he gently grips his bare thigh, needing something hold onto himself as he sucks him off. tears linger on his lashes as he goes deeper, wanting mat to feel every little thing, the rumble of a groan in his throat, how far he's taking him in. they were scared out of their wits mere hours ago and the only thing milo wants for him is to momentarily forget about all of that, to focus on him and how much he wants to make him happy.
the tug of his hair leaves a delicious sting over his scalp and he savors the sounds of his name filling the room, mingling with all this snow that seems to make his room brighter when the sun hits the flakes.
opening his eyes wide, he watches mat as he comes, heat filling his mouth for a moment before he pulls off and swallows without hesitation, using the back of his hand to wipe the mix of cum and drool from his chin and around his lips as some attempt to tidy himself. but milo looks just as disheveled, overheated yet covered in snowflakes ]
Mat ....
[ his voice almost sounds hoarse and he gently slides his hand up under the other boy's shirt, the rest of his body following him up as he hovers over mathias on the bed. his grin is dazed, a little crooked, as he leans in to kiss his cheek. ]
You're beautiful, Mat. [ and he means it, reaching up to brush his dainty fingers through silvery strands of hair, pushing them away from his eyes so he can properly look at that enchanting blue. ] You okay?
( there's ringing in his ears as mathias lays back, lashes fluttered closed, shirt rucked up high on his chest as it rises and falls with each inhale and exhale, one shaky, sudden breath escaping him, fingertips brushing idly over the comforter. though surrounded by flakes of snow that outline their bodies, mat can only feel warm, so amazingly warm β
and then there's milo, this boy who is warmth personified, who touches him so tenderly as he settles above him, and the sound of his name, breathed so softly, makes mathias blink his eyes open slowly, blue eyes bright and practically awestruck as he looks up at the boy before him. it threatens to overwhelm him, the feeling that bubbles in his chest and tightens in his throat as he takes in that crooked smile, relishes in the tender press of lips against his cheek, the slow drag of fingers against his scalp to brush his hair from his eyes, cheeks flushed. )
I'm okay, ( mathias can finally reply, meeting milo's gaze. with another shaky inhale as he settles, his arms wind around the other boy, palms against his shoulder blades. there's wonderment, nearly disbelief in his voice as he breathes out: ) Oh, my gods, Milo ...
( and it all hits him hard and suddenly, the rush of emotions that have flooded over him in the past few hours, and β a short, giddy little laugh leaves him, his arms tightening around milo and a leg hooking over his waist, cutting himself off with a kiss stolen against his lips. again and again, he kisses him, punctuated with quiet, reverent utterances of his name, ) Milo β Milo β you're so β Gods β
[ there is no prettier sight than this, the way mat looks all blissed out, completely undone, the snow falling around them. he shivers but he isn't all that cold and even begins tugging his own half-buttoned shirt up and over his head so they're both in various states of undress.
with a soft laugh, he settles over him, lets mathias pull him even closer with all his limbs. the two of them keep touching each other, giddy with warmth and affection. milo is hard in his jeans and it doesn't help having the pressure of the heavy fabric on him, the outline pressing insistingly against mat's thigh. but it isn't about him. it's not about him because he initiated this to get this boy out of his own head. so much has happened in less than ten hours, after all, and all he wants to do is spend the rest of their waking hours making sure he feels good. ]
I'm so what?
[ milo giggles and returns each kiss eagerly, only pausing to slow mat down with the curl of his tongue against his lips, gently nudging the other's mouth open so he can kiss him slowly, almost seductively. ] I'm so what, Mat?
[ he's breathless too, round cheeks all pink as he gently grazes his hand over the other's bare side. it's all a tease and he doesn't expect a response right away, though he is curious about what else he wants to do today. ]
( mathias is still coming down from it all, still a little breathless, still a lot overwhelmed, but who could blame him when he has someone as beautiful as milo above him, tugging his shirt off and leaving an expanse of skin that he wants desperately to touch and feel and β oh.
with his fingertips dragging against milo's shoulder blades, leg hooked around his waist, and mouth claimed by the other boy's with languid kisses, slow drags of tongues that make his lips part obediently, leave mat whimpering a little β or maybe that's just the question that milo asks, repeats again when he doesn't get a coherent answer. his cheeks grow warm all over again, as though he didn't just come down this boy's throat, as though he isn't squirming against the insistent press of milo's cock against the crease of his thigh. )
You're so β ( mat tries helplessly, pink and flushed and wanting nothing more than cover his face out of embarrassment. his fingertips drag uselessly down milo's back as he feels the trail of milo's hand up his side, mouth pressing another kiss against milo's grin, trying to diffuse that lopsided smile that disarms him so, trying to give him a moment to figure out how he could possibly describe everything that milo is in this moment ...
it doesn't work very well. ) I-I don't know how to say it!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
β π»π―π¬ πΊπ»πΆπΉπ΄ π°πΊ π¨πΎπ¨π²π¬, the danger is real
though not as terrifying as mat finds himself in this moment, as his fingers curl in on themselves into fists, mercifully hidden beneath the longer sleeves of his jacket. what had he done?
those men were pursuing them without hesitation, with little regard for the remaining slush mucking up the sidewalks of the city, and had milo not grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the way β he would've been a goner. except that then, with their would-be attackers in hot pursuit, that meant that milo was in danger, too, and mat simply couldn't allow this kindhearted boy to suffer on his account, for something that neither of them could even begin to understand.
it's that thought that lead mat to whirl upon their pursuers, brow furrowed intently, as a swirl of glittering, frosty light burst from the centers of his palms, and struck the pair, and he watched in wonderment as ice crept up the boots of the men, up their legs, their torsos, their arms, crossed defensively, their faces full of fear like they knew what was coming. like they'd seen this happen before.
come on, milo whispered frantically as he yanked mat away, and the next thing he knew, he was running for dear life, afraid of what might happen if those men were to break free from that ice β that ice that he'd created. but what if the ice was a permanent punishment, unable to be reversed? what if mathias β could he have ... ?
these are the thoughts that wrack mat's mind as he all-but paces milo's living room, arms hugging tightly around himself as he stares determinedly down at the floor. the temperature inside feels about the same as outside, but mat pays no mind to it, even if it drops further and further the more his mind races, considering all of the grim possibilities. he can't seem to catch his breath, panting softly, quickly, wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself and isolate before he hurts anyone else. before he hurts milo.
milo. he's safe, at least for now, within the four walls of his apartment β at least if mat has anything to say about it. )
Milo β thank you for β ( everything? rescuing him yet again? giving him a place to sleep? mat finally tries to articulate what he doesn't know how to articulate, but it doesn't quite come out the right way considering the tightness in his throat as he lifts his head and looks at the boy with the bright hair, heart racing, overwhelmed in every way the moment he meets his gaze.
he wants to feel confident. he doesn't want to be so scared. he wants to unlock the part of himself that's been here the whole time, hidden away in plain sight. )
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there is a lot to still uncover, but he doesn't think that's from mat, even though he could sense something unusual about him from the moment they first met.
at least they had been somewhat prepared. that's what milo tells himself as they tear through the busy, crooked streets of this city with mathias finally unlocking those powers milo had only dreamt about. milo's sleepy eyes had widened in wonder as he watched that burst of light from his hands, the way the frost quickly crept up their legs. that had to have been more than enough to stop them but not enough to stop milo from grabbing his hand and pulling him away to safety. it's a shock to the system and he at least has some survival skills hidden deep down. besides, someone has to keep their head while the other is discovering powers.
they can't talk about it now. they have to get to where it's safe which is why he leaves work in the middle of the day and runs up the stairs to his apartment where they both are now comfortable. he slams the door shut behind him, leaning against it with his round cheeks puffed as he tries to catch his breath. it's silent. they both need a moment, mathias more than he. ]
Don't.
[ he exhales, lifting his head up with a half-grin as he pushes himself up off the door to stand on shaky legs. ] You've thanked me enough. [ crossing the room, he lays a hand on the other boy's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. ]
You're something else.
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those icy blasts only sprang from his palms in a moment of pure terror, and right now, mathias find himself still as afraid as ever β of himself, more than anything. he doesn't know what he's capable of, this newfound power within him. one wrong move and he could freeze milo, too, reduce him to nothing but a well-sculpted ice statue. how can he control something he doesn't understand?
before he can even think to act on those intrusive thoughts, milo's voice stops him in his tracks. don't. so he doesn't. it does little to soothe the immediate instinct to recoil when that hand grips his shoulder; mat flinches, folded arms tightening in on themselves. the earnest half-grin that spreads across the other boy's cheeks hits him hard, even as his brows knit together with seemingly perpetual worry, even as his whole body seems to shake with the harsh waves of adrenaline that rocket insistently through his veins. )
Milo ...
( he doesn't even know what he wants to say; does he push him away like his mind says he should, or does he pull him in closer like his heart wants? mathias can be rational β he can think clearly, make the right choice, or so he thinks. )
You shouldn't β you shouldn't be so close to me, Milo, what if I β ?
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[ flashes of kindness, tender moments, hints of feelings that have made him question where this partnership intends to go. milo has barely scratched the surface of it, too involved in this frosty mystery to direct much of his energies towards it. it hadn't taken him very long to care for the boy he so eagerly took in, despite said boy not knowing much about himself ( despite said boy barely knowing how to pick up a room without some nagging. )
he means it when he says he has never met anyone like him β someone who carries himself in a way that surely requires so much training, who speaks in such a way that reminds him of fairytales or classic novels meant for book reports. of course he wants to help him, even protect him in any way he can. they have already come this far in their search, in their time together. why should he take a step back now?
so he had missed the mark on the source of the snow, initially believing it to be a new player in this strange game, but in a way he is kind of relieved. it's another piece of this boy that they can add to the puzzle. but they're not going to worry about that now. what he's going to worry about it talking him down from this precipice before he turns this apartment into a frozen landscape. even with his hand on mat's shoulder, he can sense that thread of tension pulled so tightly it might snap and, without much of a thought, he does the first thing that pops into his brain, something he's seen and read about before that allegedly redirects worries.
he kisses him with one single step forward to close the space between their bodies, proof that he has no fear of him, wanting mathias to breathe again. it will be okay. ]
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at least that's what it feels like for mathias the moment warm lips catch his own β and if the intention was to insist that he breathe, that's been turned entirely on its head. he thinks that his heart may have stopped, a thousand thoughts rushing into his mind all at once, some images flying by too quickly for him to even consider snatching and holding onto.
he has never been kissed before, that much he's able to tell right away from the unfamiliarity of it, the mere thrill of something new; the specifics are more than hazy but he's always known himself to be a dutiful person, prioritizing his studies, bettering himself if only to help in bettering the lives of people around him. romance has always seemed a little frivolous, maybe even selfish. but this ...? feels anything but, a selfless act of trust by this bright haired boy before him, the boy who he has grown indelibly fond of, for whom his loyalties seem to grow stronger by the day.
his lips practically tingle with the reminder of that kiss when they part, when mathias is forced to remember how to breathe again, a shuddering thing as his nose bumps against milo's, eyes still fluttered shut, arms slowly relaxing until they can drop to his sides, even if his fingertips dare to itch with a desire to touch him ... and he shouldn't, the logical part of him says, the part of mathias who knows the type of danger that the two of them are still in, the part that wants to solve the mystery of his own identity, the part that's very quickly realized the capabilities of these newly-revealed powers of his.
maybe it's the rest of his adrenaline that makes him do it, or just some deeply buried desire to do what he shouldn't just this once, though he hardly knows the reasons that he's so hard on himself, so rigid and strict and proper at all times. there's a small tip of his chin and mat catches milo's lips in another kiss, more exploratory than anything as fingers almost hesitantly reach to rest on milo's hips. this is terrifying in all of the very worst ways, the very best ways, something so new and so dangerous, and it's enough to bring forth a practical gust of swirling wind from seemingly nowhere, snowflakes dancing through the otherwise static air inside of this simple apartment, enough to ruffle through strands of hair, turquoise and silvery grey both. )
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but then mathias does the last thing he expects ( though that doesn't say anything about what he had secretly hoped for ) and ventures for another kiss. and that's some kiss, the wind sweeping through this closed apartment, tugging at the ends of clothes and hair. the chill is harder to ignore this time around. he can't help that tiny grin on his lips when he returns it, hand turning over from his shoulder to gently curve around mat's jaw, emboldened by the weight of the other boy's hands on his hips.
this isn't as new to him, though it has been a while since he had been with anyone, and he wouldn't he able to tell that it's brand new to mathias either. but they are new and that makes it all the more exciting.
he wants to say something reassuring but milo has never been all that great with words, instead exhaling against his lips and keeping his eyes closed seconds after that second kiss. they open again, this time to look up at the snowflakes seemingly suspended in midair around them. it's a small thing but this apartmen has never looked nicer.
see? he knew he wouldn't hurt him. ]
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lashes flutter closed, unfazed by those glittering flakes that have taken over the room, and a soft sound leaves him, something between a pleased hum and a whine, and it surprises even mat, not that he lets that show in his expression, plush of his lower lip curled into a natural hint of a pout that he isn't quite aware of. their faces are still close, close enough for mat's lips to brush against milo's as he sighs, tries to gather his thoughts without much avail.
nothing had ever felt so dangerous as those men pursuing them, but the knot in mathias's stomach right now screams otherwise, like the wind has been knocked out of him β and his heart is still pounding, now for entirely different reasons altogether. )
Milo β ( he murmurs, soft as ever as his palm accidentally drift from the belt loops of his pants up to the fabric of his shirt so his fingers can curl into the fabric of his shirt at his lower back, pull himself a little closer and cling to milo even more. the question that leaves his lips is asked with very little pretense, a shy request. ) Kiss me again? You don't have to ... be shy on my behalf β or restrained, or polite β Please ...
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milo will have to check to make sure but first. first he needs to kiss this boy without any restraint, without playing it safe. so he does, his gaze flicking down to that pouting mouth before he presses his own lips against it, gently nudging those lips apart with a prying tongue. he inhales, encouraging him to part his lips, mimic the way he tilts his own head so that they can kiss a little deeper, with more warmth and more obvious desire bubbling beneath the surface.
one hand presses against the small of mathias's back, pressing their bodies flush together. he follows the other boy's lead in these motions, not wanting to go overboard, not wanting him to regret wanting whatever this is. ]
You β you want more?
[ but before he can even get an answer, milo is already gingerly, slowly backing the other boy towards the nearest surface, not the couch β ah. after some stumbling, he can press him against the wall near his bedroom. they stand eye to eye, chest to chest, and he pulls away briefly to flash that lopsided smile, though his eyes have darkened with desire. ] Tell me what you want, Mat.
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he meets milo's mouth with a newfound eagerness, lips sliding against the other boy's, more than happy to follow his lead as milo licks into his mouth again, and β
he gasps softly as that hand presses against his lower back, bodies flush against one another and β goodness, he's so warm, warmer than warm, and it's dizzying, leaves his lips parted. the answer to milo's question dances on the tip of his tongue, but it's quickly vanquished by the feeling of his back hitting the wall, a palm grazing up over his back so it can curl around the back of milo's neck, needing desperately to hold onto something.
overwhelmed doesn't even begin to cover it, but the way that milo smiles at him, heavily lidded eyes betraying a lot more than the typical earnest boyishness of that grin, is enough to make him weak in the knees, to make his cheeks flood with warmth despite the cold in the air, to make his hips flex instinctively against the other boy's. )
Milo, I want β ( oh. words feel impossible as his mouth hangs open uselessly. it's embarrassing, maybe, to be rendered so speechless over such a simple question, but the possibilities alone are enough to make his cheeks flush even further. mat's head angles towards milo's instinctively, gaze lowering before his eyes flutter closed, fingers curling even tighter into the fabric of his shirt at his lower back. ) You. I want you.
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his natural warmth balances the chill that mat has brought into this space and he revels in being the reason that blush is so deep on this boy's cheeks. they both have faces that look far too innocent for the thoughts that are surely running through both their heads, but that makes it all the more fun, milo thinks as his lips hover over the other's without kissing him yet. he is waiting on a response after all.
and once he gets it β
oh.
it's a simple thing but it strikes him like a bolt of lightning. there's such desperation behind mat's eyes, uncertainty over what to do with himself now that he's tapped into a few new ( or at least once-concealed ) parts of him. it would be uncouth to take advantage of his vulnerability and that is the last thing milo wants, having kissed him first to try to center him. his own blush deepens and he nods slowly. ]
I wasn't β I didn't want to β but. [ a soft titter follows his stammering. ] I want you too.
[ loath to release him, he'll risk stumbling in the process as he gently guides mat towards his bed, hands on slender hips. his eyes never leave those bright blue ones and he gives his hip a squeeze as their legs meet the foot of his bed. ]
Sit down? Please?
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except mathias is still scared, and the more he thinks about how afraid he was in that moment, about what was unleashed from his palms because of it, the more scared he gets. somehow, this new unknown with milo feels welcoming, a pleasant alternative that mat is prepared to dive headfirst into if it means forgetting about what has happened, if only temporarily, especially if it means losing himself in this boy that he's very quickly realizing he cares for deeply β even more deeply than he had thought possible.
it's overwhelming, this realization, a thought that makes his throat tighten until he swallows hard, forehead still nudged against milo's and holding onto him so very tightly as he's guided from the wall, backed into the bedroom that mat finds so familiar from the (admittedly more than anticipated) nights in which milo insists he take the bed versus the couch. his eyes are bright as ever as his calves hit the bed frame, a little startled by it, but he buries that surprise in another stolen kiss, a quick thing, so that milo can speak again β )
Alright, I β ( and mat swallows again, fingers dragging along the side of the other boy's neck as he sits at the edge of the mattress and can't quite reach any longer. the absence of milo's warmth pressed against him is staggering, and though the swirls of snowflakes that have ignored the boundaries of this new room and dance through the air and land on milo's furniture don't bother him, he's simply incapable of ignoring that need to have this boy close.
so his knees might part instinctively, newly free hand joining his other at the small of milo's back, tugging him needily towards him until he's flush between his thighs, and mat tips his head up to meet his gaze, bright blue peeking from behind tousled strands of silvery white, teeth catching his lip as he finds himself practically begging for more through his gaze alone, too shy to say it out loud, to verbalize anything other than a soft: ) Please ...
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mat's eyes are always so enchanting ( he thinks that's the right word for it ), almost unnatural on his face, but then again, it's not every day you meet a boy with naturally silvery hair and the ability to make the world freeze over. he doesn't expect the desperation from him and that single please is like a jolt of electricity below his navel.
jesus.
he's sweating and cold, ardent but cautious, pink cheeks beneath the fall of bright blue hair. slowly he lowers himself to his knees, hands pressed firmly against mat's slender thighs to keep them secure around him. where to start? he wants βΒ naked. but mat also wants. so milo thinks quickly, sorting through his scattered thoughts as he slides his hands up the other's legs to undo his pants. ]
You can tell me when to stop, [ he says carefully, hooking his fingers into the hem of those pants, wanting to pull them down his legs. ] I won't be mad at all.
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there's a moment where he can hardly do anything but gape a little as he curls fingers into his waistband β but he finally nods emphatically, practically whispers out a soft, ) Okay.
( and there's a bundle of nervous energy that coils low in his stomach, but that is exciting to mat, this boy who has felt uncertain about most everything in his life, certain about something at last β about how much he trusts milo, how milo will take care of him, how milo is the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last when he lays his head down to sleep. anything new is bound to be frightening, but they'll be together, just as they've been.
his hands leave milo's arms so that his fingers can curl into the blanket beneath him, hips lifting to allow milo to tug his trousers off of him, chest and cheeks flushing even further once he realizes just how much more of him is exposed, the curved stretch of cotton briefs straining against him entirely unsubtle. mat has been β turned on before, of course, but this is perhaps the first time that he's wanted to do anything about it other than willing himself to think about anything but.
no, milo still kneels between his legs, and mat thinks about his mouth with a jolt that practically makes his heart stop, thinks about that crooked grin, thinks about the warm slide of milo's lips against his, his tongue β nngh, gods, he's already leaking against the soft cotton, far too eager, and it's then that he's hit with a spark of courageousness which makes him lift his hips up again and tug down his underwear, a hand hastily reaching out to grab milo's, fingers linking together and squeezing once, as much of a reassurance to himself as it is to milo that he wants this β wants him. )
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he's old enough to know that sex doesn't always equal love and that sex is often more than a problem than it is a solution. yet every fiber in his being wants to show mat that he's cared for, that he's protected, that milo himself will do just about anything to ensure that he always feels good. milo is the keeper of a magical, mysterious boy who looks at him like he's hung the moon just for him and β how could milo not want him to earnestly, so ardently?
his hands begin to slide up bare legs when. oh.. mathias has begun to pull his underwear down and he can't help the way his eyes drop to his lap as he exposes himself, unable to help that very shameless licking of his own lips. any other nervous questions he might have had die instantly on his tongue and he smiles crookedly and reassuringly, squeezing their joined hands. softly, he lifts them to kiss mat's knuckles before resting their joined hands on the bed, reluctant to let him go.
it's just the confidence boost he needs to rise up quickly, stealing one of many kisses today will bring as his left hand leaves mat's thigh to curl around his ready length, stroking him slowly and gently to at least prepare him before he thinks to use his mouth. he licks the other's bottom lip, a small hint of what's to follow.
murmuring against his mouth, milo exhales: ]
I β I wanna make you feel good.
[ pulling away, he lowers his head and licks the head in his grasp tentatively, once, twice, waiting for the reaction. ]
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Milo β
( it's gasped against the other boy's lips as his other hand wraps around his length, strokes him slowly, the sensation unlike anything he's ever felt; there's a little friction, but milo's hand slides easier against him as that precome coats his fingers. it's overwhelming β it's completely overwhelming β but milo touches him so slowly, so carefully, that mat is able to let that surprise give way to how good it feels, a heat bubbling low in his stomach that contrasts so sharply with the snowflakes that fall more insistently now from seemingly nowhere.
i wanna make you feel good, milo murmurs, and were mat coherent, he'd steal kiss after kiss until he could hardly breathe any longer, pant against his mouth as his heart races, and tell him again and again and again how good he's making him feel right now, every nerve ending alight, sparking more intensely by the moment.
it still doesn't prepare him for the feeling of milo's tongue, warm and hot and wet, dragging against the head of his cock, tasting him, licking him slowly, taking his time with mat ... and a sound escapes him, starting something like a moan and trailing off into a low whine, chin tipped backwards and lashes fluttered closed, his fingers squeezing milo's hand so tightly he may never be able to let go. there are about an infinite number of things that mathias wants to say, but his thoughts race endlessly, practically incomprehensible. but he wants to try, has to try, and it ends up manifesting in a soft, stammered: ) Milo, Milo, please, that feels so β I'm so β you're incredible β
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he isn't sure how much experience mat has had, not wanting to assume much about the holes in his memory. what he does know is that if this is the first one he's making here, he wants the first time to be meaningful and memorable. of course, he feels a swell of pride in his chest, in knowing that he is wanted, he has been chosen. mat has carved out so much space for himself in his life, in his thoughts, and while milo tries to manage the mundane everyday responsibilities along with it, he wouldn't have it any other way.
encouraged by the snow, the squeeze of his hand, the needy whimpers from the object of his affection, he parts his lips a little more so that he can take him in. not all the way, not yet, just enough for the tip to sit heavily on his tongue. his eyes remain closed as he sucks lightly, round cheeks hollowing around it.
it's a good feeling, a good taste on his tongue; he hadn't realized how much he had wanted it, far more concerned with getting to the bottom of this mystery they both have been solving. stress makes people do unusual things, though he would argue that sex as a release isn't all that strange; if anything, it's merely another step in this journey they're taking together.
after a beat or two, he lowers his head, throat adjusting easily to the intrusion. ]
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gods, this is unlike anything that mat has ever experienced before, a rapidly tightening knot coiling in his stomach, and his mind is already racing as he thinks about making milo feel this good in return, this boy who deserves the world and then some, who will get it if this boy has anything to say about it β
and then mat's brain effectively ceases operations as milo takes him deeper into his mouth, and he can feel the head of his cock bumping against the back of his throat as he bottoms out, inhaling sharply as his hand reaches out to curl into mussed turquoise locks, desperate for as much contact with milo as he can manage. he can feel a sensation building in his gut and it practically leaves him trembling, laying back against the sheets with silvery blonde hair falling in his eyes, lips seeming to be eternally parted. )
Gods, Milo β ( he practically whimpers, head lifting fruitlessly because he wants to watch milo, but with even the slightest, reflexive movement of milo's tongue against him, he's overwhelmed, head falling back against the mattress. a gust of wind bursts through the room, ruffling milo's hair even with mat's fingers curled into it, carrying with it snowflakes that land on mat's cheeks, stick to his lashes, coating the furniture, coating the blankets, starting to accumulate. )
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but they do.
there is no question about that. he wouldn't let anyone into his house or into his heart so easily, but there is something that not even fate could have given in him his dreams, something there that wraps them both so tightly around each other. his full lips seem to shine even before he licks them, encouraging one of mat's legs to hang over his shoulder for a moment so that he can curve a hand around his thigh, pressing wet kisses against it. his instinct is to leave a mark but it feels wrong to mar such delicate, fair skin.
so he scrapes his teeth delicately against the sensitive inner skin, kissing his way back to his apex where he takes his cock in his free hand and strokes him slowly. ]
I β [ he's literally in the middle of sucking him off and yet milo still blushes. ] I could make you come like this, Mat. You want me to?
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warm feels like an understatement, even as snowflakes dot his skin and melt away; mathias is flushed, heat radiating off of his skin as he succumbs to these newfound desires, panting softly and fingers squeezing milo's when a particularly strong wave of pleasure rolls through him, making him moan loudly, lewdly, in a way that otherwise might make his typically reserved self perish at the mere thought.
he's given a brief respite as his leg is guided up and over milo's shoulder letting out a long exhale that turns shuddery as those full lips drift over to the inside of his thigh, pressing the same kind of languid kiss that they'd shared, now against his skin, tongue darting out to taste him, and oh. there's milo's fingers again, stroking him nice and steadily, keeping him ready, the head of his cock pink and swollen and leaking prettily.
mat swallows hard and lifts his head, looking more than a little blissed out, but still keen to look at milo, with his bright eyes and his rosy cheeks and his hand still moving rhythmically and. and. gods. the question leaves his head practically spinning, and mat's lips part as though to speak once, twice, maybe even three times before he manages: ) I β I. Yes, I β want you to.
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Good. You β you don't need to warn me, okay? But it's also okay if you do.
[ his laughter is muffled against all that fair skin, his forehead pressed against mat's abdomen. he's essentially given him permission to come down his throat without saying it in so many dirty words so as not to completely startle him.
though, he is giving this boy head as they speak so perhaps all sense of priority should be thrown out the window.
there's heat behind his eyes but also a world of adoration because he can't believe he has this beautiful boy spread out before him, that he's the one who gets to hear those noises, the way his name falls from those pouting lips. milo lowers his head to take him in again, enjoying the weight on his tongue, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks and pulls himself up. with lowered lashes, he's determined to finish this, to see him unravel. ]
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Okay, Milo.
( even if mat is barely cognizant of what he's saying okay to, just that those soft puffs of laughter against his skin tickle and that milo's forehead pressed against his stomach feels so warm, just like the warmth behind his gaze as milo looks up at him, so strong that mat thinks he might just melt here and now.
he's spent so much time in the past few weeks being unsure of himself, missing so many things and afraid of what those things may be β but mat can't think of any of that now, can only lose himself in the feeling of milo's tongue against him, the drag of his lips as he lowers his head, the way he salivates around him, bobbing his head up and down, the feeling coiled deep in his belly tightening and burning white hot until he can't take it anymore, coming undone, with a final, frantic gasp of milo's name, fingers grasping at curly strands of dark hair, seeing nothing but white, white, white and he's not sure if it's from the snow zigzagging through the room or from the overwhelming sensation washing over him but it doesn't matter because he feels like he's floating now, too caught up in milo ...
when it's all said and done, mat flops back against the sheets, panting softly, vaguely trying to regain himself but content to ride this high he's certain he'd like to ride forever. )
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the tug of his hair leaves a delicious sting over his scalp and he savors the sounds of his name filling the room, mingling with all this snow that seems to make his room brighter when the sun hits the flakes.
opening his eyes wide, he watches mat as he comes, heat filling his mouth for a moment before he pulls off and swallows without hesitation, using the back of his hand to wipe the mix of cum and drool from his chin and around his lips as some attempt to tidy himself. but milo looks just as disheveled, overheated yet covered in snowflakes ]
Mat ....
[ his voice almost sounds hoarse and he gently slides his hand up under the other boy's shirt, the rest of his body following him up as he hovers over mathias on the bed. his grin is dazed, a little crooked, as he leans in to kiss his cheek. ]
You're beautiful, Mat. [ and he means it, reaching up to brush his dainty fingers through silvery strands of hair, pushing them away from his eyes so he can properly look at that enchanting blue. ] You okay?
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and then there's milo, this boy who is warmth personified, who touches him so tenderly as he settles above him, and the sound of his name, breathed so softly, makes mathias blink his eyes open slowly, blue eyes bright and practically awestruck as he looks up at the boy before him. it threatens to overwhelm him, the feeling that bubbles in his chest and tightens in his throat as he takes in that crooked smile, relishes in the tender press of lips against his cheek, the slow drag of fingers against his scalp to brush his hair from his eyes, cheeks flushed. )
I'm okay, ( mathias can finally reply, meeting milo's gaze. with another shaky inhale as he settles, his arms wind around the other boy, palms against his shoulder blades. there's wonderment, nearly disbelief in his voice as he breathes out: ) Oh, my gods, Milo ...
( and it all hits him hard and suddenly, the rush of emotions that have flooded over him in the past few hours, and β a short, giddy little laugh leaves him, his arms tightening around milo and a leg hooking over his waist, cutting himself off with a kiss stolen against his lips. again and again, he kisses him, punctuated with quiet, reverent utterances of his name, ) Milo β Milo β you're so β Gods β
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with a soft laugh, he settles over him, lets mathias pull him even closer with all his limbs. the two of them keep touching each other, giddy with warmth and affection. milo is hard in his jeans and it doesn't help having the pressure of the heavy fabric on him, the outline pressing insistingly against mat's thigh. but it isn't about him. it's not about him because he initiated this to get this boy out of his own head. so much has happened in less than ten hours, after all, and all he wants to do is spend the rest of their waking hours making sure he feels good. ]
I'm so what?
[ milo giggles and returns each kiss eagerly, only pausing to slow mat down with the curl of his tongue against his lips, gently nudging the other's mouth open so he can kiss him slowly, almost seductively. ] I'm so what, Mat?
[ he's breathless too, round cheeks all pink as he gently grazes his hand over the other's bare side. it's all a tease and he doesn't expect a response right away, though he is curious about what else he wants to do today. ]
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with his fingertips dragging against milo's shoulder blades, leg hooked around his waist, and mouth claimed by the other boy's with languid kisses, slow drags of tongues that make his lips part obediently, leave mat whimpering a little β or maybe that's just the question that milo asks, repeats again when he doesn't get a coherent answer. his cheeks grow warm all over again, as though he didn't just come down this boy's throat, as though he isn't squirming against the insistent press of milo's cock against the crease of his thigh. )
You're so β ( mat tries helplessly, pink and flushed and wanting nothing more than cover his face out of embarrassment. his fingertips drag uselessly down milo's back as he feels the trail of milo's hand up his side, mouth pressing another kiss against milo's grin, trying to diffuse that lopsided smile that disarms him so, trying to give him a moment to figure out how he could possibly describe everything that milo is in this moment ...
it doesn't work very well. ) I-I don't know how to say it!
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