"Hi, dude."
Felix just stared at me, looking mildly constipated, mouth tight like he was trying to hold back from spewing or popping out a big load of shit into a porcelain throne. Fully expecting him to cuss me out as per normal, I was surprised and mildly chuffed when he balled his fists together tightly, gritting out a reluctant "Hi."
Milo jerked in surprise at his brother's greeting, and I smiled happily, unable to hold back my elation that, yes, this grumpy little shit had finally, finally said hello to me like a normal, socially-competent human being. Nice work, Black Dove.
Felix noticed my mega-watt smile, grimacing a bit before awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, mumbling something about 'having maths and physics study to do'. It took him all but two seconds to turn in a swift semi-circle and make a bee-line to his room, shutting the door behind him.
"What did you do to him?" Milo asked, giving me a probing look.
"Hm? I don't know what you mean," I hummed teasingly, dodging Milo's questioning gaze as I skipped to his room, flopping onto the bed before rummaging through my bag to pull out my laptop. Milo settled himself next to me, leaning back against his headboard, gathering me into his side as I opened up Netflix for us to continue working through my doctor's recommendations.
"Don't play coy," Milo scoffed, winding an arm around my shoulders, squeezing my arm softly. "I know you saw him the night of the... attack."
"Worried I was having a hot illicit affair with your brother?" I giggled, Milo rolling his eyes.
"Hilarious," Milo said dryly, barely paying attention to the movie playing on the laptop propped up on my thighs. "Did you say something to him?"
"I told him that I - as in Black Dove - had a very wonderful boyfriend," I said, the small frown on Milo's face faltering. "And I also advised him to try and be nicer to the boyfriend of aforementioned boyfriend, who he didn't actually know was the boy advising him at the time. Heh, whoever wrote this plot line has been watching too many soap operas."
"So you told him to be nicer to you, and it worked because he doesn't know that it was you," Milo summarised, chuckling. "Well, I'm honestly surprised that your method worked, but I'm glad they did. The fact that my brother was crushing on my boyfriend was just... ugh. He still probably likes Black Dove, but I'd like to think that he'll get over it knowing that you're taken. If my kid brother turns into someone who goes after people already in relationships..."
I just laughed as Milo shivered beside me, craning my head to rope him into a kiss, not having to try very hard when he eagerly returned the gesture. I breathed out a giggle into Milo's mouth as he pushed my laptop closed without detaching his lips from mine, moving the device out of the danger zone before nudging me down onto my back.
"Not enjoying the movie?" I asked, slipping my hands under Milo's top, the boy's abdominal muscles tensing. I didn't move to remove his shirt or creep up any further than his stomach, just savouring the feel of him under my fingertips. I slid my hands around his sides, before resting my hands at the slope of his lower back, fingers running up and down the smooth indent over his spine.
"Hardly," Milo replied, hovering over me on his arms, one hand knotted in my hair. "You?"
"Oh, thoroughly. I mean, Chris Hemsworth shirtless, mm, that really gets me going," I said, before collapsing into peals of laughter as Milo thunked his forehead against mine, hurting himself more than he hurt me. "Kidding, baby. Kidding. Kind of - he is ridiculously hot. And I'm sure he has a huge-"
"Just shut up," Milo grumbled, effectively doing so when he sealed his mouth over my own again. We just kissed languidly for what could have been hours, our touches not delving into scandalous territory, more just relishing the feel of each other just because we could. Plus, considering Felix was in the next room over, I knew that he would be more than eager to go back to openly hating me if we subjected him to our sex sounds.
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Swooped | ✓
Fantasy[BxB] Life was pretty average for Culver Fleet, an 18-year-old certified couch potato slash pothead. He has spent every waking breath dodging responsibilities, until one fateful day he is swooped by a magpie and is... changed. He thought he just cau...
