Sugar

07 (18+)

Milo texts him to come by the bakery after hours, and Amir is vibrating throughout the day, barely able to focus through work.

He makes his way to the bakery just as Jamie and Levi are leaving, done for the day, and he grins at them as they greet each other, Levi giving him a smirk.

"Hi, Julian," he says as he closes the door behind him, and Julian looks up from where he's wiping down the counters of the kitchen, already mostly clean. "Is Millie here?"

"He's upstairs, he's completing some orders for tomorrow," he replies, and he pauses mid-wipe, and stares back up at Amir, saying seriously, "Don't defile my kitchen."

"What?" he blinks, but Julian keeps staring.

"If you're going to be nasty, do it in his office, or at your places," he says.

"Is that a thing he's thinking about?" he asks, trying to be nonchalant, but he knows Julian must catch on to the hope in his voice.

"I don't know, is it?" Julian says, challenging as he continues to glare.

Amir gulps, and makes his way to the staircase, inching carefully towards the light.

"Okay, bye, Li," he says, and he's scampering up the stairs, not quite quick enough to miss his smug cackle, and he steps into the open decorating room, a big table with a metal countertop and counters on the other side, with tools and equipment, and he didn't know cake decorating would require so much.

"Millie?" he tries calling out, and he doesn't wait for long when he hears, "Hold on!"

He stands, looking around for a moment, and Milo is coming in from a doorway on the other side, carrying three separate tiers of cake in his arms, white button-down unbuttoned down his chest, sleeves rolled up and dark blue jeans that stretch around his thighs, his apron tied around his waist, glasses on, and his hair is slicked back, now a gorgeous chestnut brown, and Amir is done for.

"Sorry," he says, "had to get it from the fridge for the crumb coat to set a little more."

"You dyed your hair again," Amir mumbles, and Milo gives a small laugh as he sets the cakes on turntables to decorate, gesturing for Amir to take a seat on the stool next to his. "It wasn't even a month."

"It was a pain to maintain," he says. "You don't like the brown?"

"You don't look bad in anything," he says, and Milo shakes his head, still smiling as he blushes. "You're hot."

"Sounding like your friend, there," he says, turning even redder, and Amir pauses, remembers Luka and his stupid lack of a mouth filter.

"You like me more though, right?" he tries bravely.

"I more than like you," Milo says shyly, adorably, and Amir is soaring.

"You're really making my day, Millie," he says, and Milo snorts, but as he's turning the cakes around to inspect for cracks, he's got a hand on Amir's thigh, a casual touch, his grip firm. "I more than like you, too."

"Don't distract me, I'm trying to teach you how to do this," Milo is saying, face completely red, and Amir is grinning, laying his hand on top of his and holding tight. Wash your hands, then help me roll out the fondant-"

"Uh-huh," Amir teases, and Milo pinches his thigh to get him moving, making him laugh, but he stands all the same, following his orders. He watches as Milo demonstrates, sprinkling cornstarch on the table, and starts kneading out the white fondant, and his arms and hands move with precision and hard motions and Amir can't stop staring at the way his veins are emphasized each time he pushes down. His mouth goes very dry, but he follows, kneading another batch beside him, a little more clumsily, but he blames his company for being too distracting.