Chapter 13 #2
“I want to touch you,” Rowan said, and Milo’s eyebrows shot up.
“I mean, I want to show you affection, and I know one of your love languages is touch. I promise I’m going to try my best in whatever way I can, but you don’t need to thank me for giving you what would barely qualify as the bare minimum from someone else. ”
Milo crossed their arms over their chest and scrunched their brow together. “What the hell kind of self-deprecating horse poop is that?”
Rowan’s hawk cocked his head, and Rowan found himself doing the same. “What? It’s not—”
“It’s absurd, is what it is. Bare minimum—are you serious?
My best friend just fully intercepted and is now interrupting our date, and instead of getting frustrated or territorial, you offered to have a whole-ass conversation with your brother, took your shoes off without me even asking, and shared a new intimacy with me?
My gods, Rowan, leave some awesome boyfriend material for the rest of us. ”
Rowan gaped at them, but it seemed like they weren’t done.
“Also, Anabelle always said that the entire theory of love languages is patriarchal and highly reductive, and I agree with her,” Milo said, as they began to pace back and forth between the window and the front door.
“Like, seriously, who has just one? And why are certain people of certain genders expected to prefer some over others? But just for the sake of argument, I will say that, yes, I like touch, which means every shoulder tap and pinky brush today has basically had me on cloud nine, but I also like words of affirmation, like your toe-curlingly-sexy ‘baby,’ and acts of service, like the way you let every car merge into your lane and held the barn door open for no less than ten people. That’s not even to mention quality time, which you’ve been spending with me in droves and—”
Milo bumped into the exact same corner of the counter as Ray had. They cursed under their breath and began gesturing broadly with their hands.
“And, while I don’t actually like gifts all that much, you paid for my ticket, then paid for the strawberry jam, donuts, and hayride, and you also drove me there and back without asking for gas money.
” Milo turned on their heel when they reached the window for the third time and stalked back to Rowan.
“I think that’s all of them, but even if I missed one, the point still stands.
In the five hours you’ve been my boyfriend, you’ve been the best one I’ve ever had, and more than I ever could have asked for.
I’m happy to continue reassuring you of that, but I promise, it’s not necessary. ”
Rowan’s hawk gave a soft cheep and sat down in his nest, like that was that. Rowan's stomach hadn’t completely unknotted, but for the first time that day, he felt a tiny pang of hunger.
If Milo had just said “it’s okay” or “don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” like so many of Rowan’s exes—and sometimes even his family—he wouldn’t have believed them.
That was the sort of promise people made that could never be kept.
Eventually, they would tire of his best efforts, and the tense silences and derisive looks would start.
Milo had mentioned physical intimacy, but all of the other things they’d listed were practically second nature to Rowan. He hadn’t even known he’d been doing some of it because he’d been so focused on trying to push himself out of his physical comfort zone and keep up with Milo’s boundless energy.
If those things were all it took to make Milo happy, Rowan would spend every day for the rest of his life doing so.
“I hear you,” Rowan said softly. “And maybe more importantly, my hawk hears you. He feels very safe with you, and so do I. I don’t know if I’ll be able to just let go of everything I’ve ever thought about touch and my…shortcomings, but I promise, I do hear what you’re saying.”
Milo sagged sideways against the countertop. “Okay, good, because that was definitely a sugar-fueled tirade, and I wasn’t entirely sure I was making sense.”
Rowan shifted his chair a few inches closer to Milo’s side.
The smell of apples had intensified throughout Milo’s rant, and now it warmed, as if someone had dumped spices into a simmering vat of cider.
Their lips were wet and the prettiest pink, and Rowan wanted nothing more in that moment than to taste them and see if strawberries or apples won out.
And…he could. Milo was his baby and his fated mate. They’d agreed to give this thing a shot, right?
Rowan’s hawk kee-awwed, and Rowan leaned forward, noting the flecks of green in Milo’s irises as their eyes widened before sliding shut.
Milo tipped forward but stopped right before they hit Rowan so that the final move had to be his.
Ruben and Ray were probably on their way up right now, but his hawk began bobbing his head, shimmying his tail feathers, and lifting his shoulders, and Rowan leaned forward the final few inches.
Their first kiss was just a soft brush of lips, the lingering wetness on Milo’s lips wetting Rowan’s.
He took a chance and swiped his tongue over his lip, catching the distinct taste of apples.
Milo let out a soft breath, and the strawberry scent swirled around Rowan, spurring him to lean in again, this time pressing his lips firmly against Milo’s.
“Mmm,” Milo hummed in the back of their throat as they tilted their head and deepened the kiss.
Sparks shot up Rowan’s spine like the fireworks he and Ruben used to set off for the summer solstice.
As if Ruben had been summoned by the thought, a knock came at the door.
Milo was the first to pull away, the ridges of their cheekbones tinged pink. “Wow…thank you,” Milo whispered.
“There you go again with that,” Rowan grumbled.
“You may just have to get used to it,” Milo said, walking backward towards the door. “Because I’m thankful for pretty much everything—meeting you, getting to know you, and now getting to kiss you.”
Rowan shook his head as the door opened to reveal Ruben with his arm wrapped securely around Ray’s waist. While Rowan did his best to school his surprise, Milo didn’t even try.
“Well, well, well. I suppose we do have a lot to talk about,” Milo drawled.
Ray ducked his head and scurried inside, Ruben hot on his heels. Milo directed them over to the couch, and Rowan dragged his chair onto the rug as Milo did the same with a second chair.
“Speaking of having a lot to talk about,” Ruben said, snatching the shirt Milo had been wearing earlier off the arm of the couch, “why is one of my shirts in your apartment?”
Ray’s cat ears popped out, clearly never too far below the surface. Milo’s grin disappeared, replaced by the tight-lipped look Rowan was coming to dislike.
“Milo stayed the night at my place, and it was the only thing I had that fit them,” Rowan said, squaring his shoulders as he stared down his older brother.
Ruben ran his thumb over the worn fabric before tossing it back onto the sofa. “Oh, well, in that case, congrats, I guess? Is that what you wanted to tell us? You guys are fucking?”
Ray made a soft choking noise, and Milo’s lips curved down into a scowl.
“We’re dating,” Rowan said firmly, shifting his legs open wider so his knee came to rest right next to Milo’s skinny thigh. “Today was actually our first date.”
Ruben’s eyes flashed yellow. “Why did you let me drag you to a singles’ event, then?”
When Rowan didn’t say anything, not sure where to even begin, Ruben turned to Milo. He had never been very good at showing remorse. Most of the time, he used his big brown eyes and practiced pout to get himself out of trouble.
“I swear I didn’t know,” Ruben said, and of course, there came the pout. “I’d never encourage him to step out on you or anything. I thought you were just friends.”
“We were until approximately five hours ago,” Milo said, their fingers knotting in the hem of their dress. “Last night we both went to the event single, but it turns out we were only interested in each other.”
They could leave it at that. There was no need to get into the nitty gritty details, especially since them being fated wouldn’t change the trajectory of their relationship.
They were just as likely to date and break up now as they’d been the night before.
The only difference was how badly it was going to wreck Rowan if things didn’t work out.
That’s what he told himself, at least, but as he watched Milo’s knuckles turn white against their pretty dress, he knew that it actually did matter.
“We’re also fated mates,” Rowan said, with all the conviction he and his hawk felt.
The resulting silence was so profound he probably could have heard a coffee bean drop across the city at their favorite coffee shop. Ray’s jaw was practically at his bellybutton, and Ruben, possibly for the first time ever, seemed utterly speechless.
Milo was also silent, but their lips were curved up just the tiniest bit, so Rowan took a chance and pressed his knee against their leg. Milo pressed back and released their death grip on their dress.
“Are you serious?” Ruben asked, a rather offensive amount of surprise in his voice.
Milo shrank back, and before Rowan’s hawk could unfurl his feathers, Ray snapped his mouth shut and turned to narrow his eyes at Ruben.
“We also went to last night’s mixer single,” Ray said pointedly, settling his hand firmly on Ruben’s thigh. “Which was how we both ended up dancing with that creepy guy.”
Ruben’s arm tightened around Ray’s waist, pulling him across the scant few inches of space between them until they were pressed together.
“It was my fault he had the opportunity to approach you. I should have done something sooner, and I’m sorry.
” Ruben lifted his chin at Milo and Rowan.
“I’m also sorry if that cut your evening short, but at least it seems like you were able to spend the rest of the night together? ”