3. Chapter 3 #2
Rowan rummaged around in the cart before pulling something out, a dark material, then shook it out to reveal a cloak.
He brought it straight to Milo, swirling the cloak around his shoulders, and then settled on the log beside Milo again.
In stunned silence, Milo tugged the fur-lined cloak closer, instantly relaxing into soft warmth, his throat tightening due to a swell of emotions.
Then, to Milo’s further surprise, Rowan held an arm out in welcome.
His gesture clearly said come closer and snuggle.
Hot diggity damn.
Milo lost no time in accepting his invitation. He’d plastered himself to Rowan’s side in a second flat, leaning his head against the man’s shoulder. A strong arm wrapped around his cloak-covered back, keeping him close.
Teddy bear. This just confirmed it; the man was absolutely a teddy bear.
“If you’re already cold, you’re going to suffer come winter,” Rowan muttered.
Milo lifted his head slightly, staring at Rowan’s temptingly close face. “I have heating charms I can use if it gets really bad, but I’d prefer snuggles.”
Rowan’s eye cut to him again. “Because snuggles?”
Had his ears deceived him or had that line actually held a hint of teasing?
Milo’s reaction to the possibility was obviously to egg it on.
He leaned farther toward Rowan’s broad side, utterly shameless, batting his lashes at the man.
“You’re seriously amazing at interpreting me.
It’s quite thrilling, y’know. Makes me want to flirt with you. ”
Rowan’s voice turned dry. “Oh? I’m your type, then? Meaning I’m an asshole?”
“Nooo, I said I was trying to do better! You’re my new type. No assholes allowed.” Milo was working on dating better men, after all, and Rowan absolutely hit the mark.
“Milo. You have a very low bar.”
“Admittedly, I do. But the bar is higher than it was six months ago! In my defense, I’m making progress.”
He didn’t see it, but he could feel the jerk of Rowan’s chest as he snorted/laughed.
A sense of pride filled Milo at having gotten his resting bitch face to relax enough to show humor.
Which, honestly, the man shouldn’t have let on he’d found Milo funny.
Because now Milo was really going to up the antics until he got this man belly laughing.
See if he didn’t. First, though, time to get to know him better.
For all they had talked throughout the afternoon, Milo didn’t actually know much about him.
“So when you’re not fighting, what do you do?”
“Read” was the unexpected answer.
Hot damn. This man couldn’t get sexier right now if he tried. “Read what?”
“Anything I can get my hands on.” Milo felt the slight shrug.
“In the winters, there’s not much to do except read, eat, and sleep.
Well, we do play games with each other and do some crafting as well.
Except for rare attacks, the Drachifel hibernate during the winter, but with the snowdrifts, it’s hard to go out.
We train indoors, but it leaves a lot of leisure time. ”
“Because you’re locked inside, basically?”
“Yeah.”
“I brought books with me.”
“Did you really? How many?” Milo could practically hear the greed in his voice.
“About twenty.” Milo thought about it, but he hadn’t actually counted how many books he’d put into his trunks.
He’d basically put in anything helpful and some favorites.
“Three, no four, of the books won’t be of much interest to you.
They’re resource books for me, all magicky and stuff, but the others might be something you’d like.
I’ve got a mix of romance, fantasy, mystery, and a few adventure stories.
Grand quests, y’know.” Milo lifted his head once more.
Rowan was definitely smiling, even if it was faint, more sensed than seen beneath the ginger beard. The failing light was likely to blame for that, as all they really had to see by now was the campfire. “I’ll borrow some of those from you.”
“Sure! I also like to read, so let’s swap books.”
Rowan definitely looked happy at the idea. Then he inhaled deeply. “I think it’s done.”
What was? Milo’s restraint? Yeah, it was basically done in at this point.
Oh, he meant the food.
Rowan untangled himself from Milo, then shifted off the log to pull the pot out of the embers, lifting the lid to check it. He grunted in satisfaction, gesturing for Milo to grab a wooden bowl, which he promptly did because the food smelled amazing.
Milo could, and had, eaten everything in the house.
His great-aunt used to despair of him as she could never keep enough food stocked, and she’d teased him mercilessly about her lowered food cost when he’d been old enough to attend the magical academy.
He’d never gained weight to show it, but he was the definition of a bottomless pit.
Thus snacks. So he mounded his bowl over, intent on eating it all, already drooling at the idea of seconds.
Then he took a bite and moaned. Scratch that, he’d need at least three bowls.
Rowan cast him an amused glance. “Good?”
“You can cook too.” Milo whimpered between bites. “Gods, it’s unfair. You need some kind of flaw to make up for all of this.”
Rowan pointed to his face. “Flaw.”
“Shut up. You’re handsome, so that’s not a flaw. Oh, you mean the resting bitch face. Eh, I don’t really consider that a flaw.”
“Eat.”
“I am, I am!”
Milo did eat, then refilled his bowl and ate that too, and he was hopefully eyeing the pot but wanting Rowan to get a second bowl first. He didn’t want the other man hungry. He could always go for some of his snacks.
Rowan scooped up a second bowl for himself but then snagged Milo’s bowl and filled it with the rest of the contents.
He handed the bowl over without a word, not realizing Milo’s heart pounded.
When asking for more food, Milo was usually teased, or scolded, or met with an exasperated look.
Even Ray, his best friend, just rolled his eyes when Milo asked for more.
Rarely in his life had someone simply accommodated him, making sure he had enough to eat.
Rowan did so without even a word or a sign of impatience.
Why was he so thoughtful? So generous? Didn’t he understand that Milo’s willpower, even on the best of days, was nothing more than dregs in a cup?
Especially after the last fight with Andrew, just a few days prior, he was feeling a touch raw.
It had been a nasty fight, with them screaming at each other and Milo being this close to hexing his ass, fine be damned.
Right now, Milo wanted something comforting.
Rowan offered that comfort without making Milo beg or barter.
Rowan silently supported him, and dammit, Milo wanted to seduce him now.
But should he?
If this went sideways, Milo would be stuck on the far end of the country for the remainder of his contract, likely seeing the man who’d rejected him every single day, without friends or allies to lean on for support while he licked his emotional wounds.
He saw the pitfalls, he really did. Some part of his brain insisted pursuing Rowan wasn’t wise.
Milo normally ignored that part of his brain, but maybe he should listen this once.
Ignoring his common sense didn’t normally end well for him. See: Dating History.
Milo instead applied himself to eating every last grain of rice out of his bowl. “Since you cooked, I’ll do dishes.”
Rowan nodded in acquiescence but also kind of stared at him, poleaxed. Didn’t think he could eat three bowls, huh? Well, he was wrong. Milo was kind of proud of his bottomless stomach in that moment.
Milo didn’t do something as mundane as using soap and water to wash the dishes, of course.
Cleaning spells existed for a reason. Reason being he hated doing dishes.
So, without even rising from the log, he whipped out his wand and set to it, watching as everything was cleaned in a split second.
Then he used a levitation spell to stack the dishes and put them back in their crate.
With a low groan, Rowan stood up from the log, stretching his arms toward the sky enough that Milo caught a glimpse of a delicious happy trail hovering above the waist of his pants.
Milo nearly moaned at the sight, filing the image away for naughty material.
Unaware of Milo’s heated thoughts, Rowan made his way toward his bedroll and folded his body in with more grace than Milo would expect for a man of his size.
It was rather late—at least late enough to turn in, since they’d be up with the sun to continue their trip.
Milo had no problem going to bed at this point except he was still kind of antsy.
It didn’t take much thought as to why.
Milo was alone with a man he found hella attractive, someone who wasn’t put off by his chaotic nature, and he reaaaaaally wanted to capitalize on it.
Rowan had given him zero signs of interest aside from the snuggling, which could have just been him being nice.
In fact, when they’d talked of their dating history earlier, he hadn’t stated gender one way or another. Did he even like men?
Knowing Milo’s luck, the man was straighter than a ruler.
Still, Milo had always pushed his luck, which meant he felt like testing the waters here, too. Sometimes pushing his luck had garnered really good results, so why not take the gamble? Worst thing the man could do was tell him to stop.
Decided, he seized his bedroll and placed it right up against Rowan’s before plonking himself down.
He took off his shoes and jacket, as he didn’t want to sleep in those, obviously.
Although if he got too cold, he’d put the jacket back on.
The cloak he’d sneakily set aside, as it would have hindered his plans. Then he snuggled his way down.
In the low light from the fire, Milo could see Rowan was once again watching him from the corner of his eye. “May I help you?”