Light Me Up (Mile x Apo) [Mile x Apo]

Chapter 1: Try to Keep Up

How was it that something so small, so quietly muttered to him, could have such a profound impact on Mile?

He almost missed it, had it not been for the bump to his shoulder. Mile nearly dropped his champagne glass in surprise at the action. His attention refocused from the ramblings of men three times older than himself.

It had been the barest brushing of shoulders, as Mile noticed the most sinful creature to walk on the planet, drift past where he stood within a circle of older investors. The one who bumped into him headed towards an area where the media hounds held up their cameras, turned on their microphones, and salivated at the attention from anyone willing to toss them a bone for exclusive coverage. The uttering of those words had been a quiet challenge themselves. All the while it left Mile with a quirked bushy brow in curiosity, his fingers curled into the base of the champagne flute to make sure he didn't drop it, and his lips pursed curiously as he absorbed the comment.

"Try to keep up..."

Normally one would say that to another in a familiar way, yet he didn't know this person. Not that he wouldn't like to. The view of this individual perfectly wrapped in bright red leather was enough to draw his attention alone; however, it was the mischievous expression that flashed across the beautifully tanned features that made Mile pause in order to fully appreciate the 'gift' presented in front of him. Or the back of it anyway since the rouge fiend wasn't facing him. He smirked to himself.

As antagonizing as the statement should have been or as frazzled as he might have felt by the clear baiting of the ethereal being who made the mistake of turning his back on Mile, while adorned in the sexiest red leather outfit that accentuated a perfect behind, it only tantalized him further.

Totally tickled at the directness, he allowed his gaze to drink its fill. His eyes hovered at the fluffy hair coiffed back by expert hands, that he wanted to mess up by combing the locks with his pallid fingers. Mile traced the outline of that back, dipped into the tiny waist, that would be perfect in his grip, as he instantly painted a portrait of himself pulling this creature towards himself, back to chest, as his own mouth spoke of all the filthy, devilish whims he wanted to indulge in. His glance lingered on the curves of muscle, that firm ass, that begged to be parted by his hands and tormented with his mouth, melted by his tongue, for his teeth marks, until the only coherent words spluttered by kissable lips were 'Mercy', 'More', and 'Mile'.

He didn't even want to begin contemplating how the stretch of those supple, long legs would feel wrapped like a flesh-belt around his own waist, tightly bound to Mile as he pounded into the very depths of that siren whose song he wanted to hear, and he licked his lips. "Playful..." He whispered to himself as he took a gulp of his drink, clearly tuned out to the gentlemen beside him, only focused on one target.

He waited to be acknowledged again but it never came. The other man focused solely on the interviewers, as he tilted his head to the side at the ensemble. A racer? A model dressed as a racer? A celebrity dressed as a racer? He glanced around the gala – it was a charity event that the elite were invited to – celebrities weren't always invited, unless they had another connection. Interesting, he thought to himself.

This man clearly didn't know who he was, or he wouldn't have uttered such a flagrant provocation to him, right? Mile thought to himself. Owner of a large racing empire, purveyor of exotic cars, hobbyist racer, and one of the wealthiest bachelors in Thailand, who was always invited to the elite events and only attended a handful, only then to ignore the curious gazes.

No. This man knew exactly who Mile was and was clearly seeking him out. But why? And why hadn't Mile ever seen or heard of him before?

Had anyone ever been so brazen with him before? He dug through his catalogue of arm candies, filtered through his friends with pleasurable benefits, even the few romantic relationships he'd indulged in (that only scarred him emotionally and burnt a hole in his wallet), but no one had come even close to reeling him in with such power just from a glance, an utterance, and a devious flash of the most iridescent golden irises he'd ever seen.