milobooker

[milobooker]

milo: okay but are we really gonna skip past the fact you were in the slammer? 'cause i feel like that's the more important detail here milo: but no. no fights. not unless you count walking into the bathroom door milo: and if you do, then, yes milo: and i won

𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔𝗚𝗘 📲 MILO

Delaina: been in any fights lately??? Delaina: i only ask because i missed that pride weekend drag brunch because i was in the slammer and i need, if anything, to feel validated

[milobooker]

"hey— don't you dare— dottie—" milo began to protest as the woman's hands curled around his own, prying him away from the only source of real safety in the entire rink. because god knows he didn't trust dottie as far as he could throw and her and already, as she began to pull him along, had he begun to envision the way they'd fall down and some careless stranger would run over their limbs and chop them away like a slasher movie.

"fine, fine, you're lookin' good— ohh, i hate this, dottie. i hate it—"

At the time, ice skating seemed like a good idea. But when she was drinking, everything did - it’s how she mostly found herself landing into trouble on the best of days. Worried she’d end up being the liability of the duo, Dottie had promised to take her time until they got the hang of it. That’d been about fifteen minutes ago, when she’d finally picked up what her body already knew, skating similar to riding a bike. Watching Milo grip the edge of the rink made her wonder if he was terrified of that too. “I wasn’t even going fast!” Bringing her hand up to her mouth, Dottie tried to hide the fact that she was seconds away from hysterically laughing. Milo looked as if he were on the brink of a heart attack - it was oddly adorable. “I think that only happens to hockey players. When they fall and stuff, right?” As if it weren’t possible for either of them, as absolute amateur skaters, to fall. “C’mon ya big baby. Gimme your hands.” Gently, Dottie coaxed Milo off of the rink’s edge, gripping onto him with less than sure guidance, “You’ll live to serve and cuddle another day! I’ve gotten pretty good, see?” Dottie’s attempt at skating backwards was more of an incredibly awkward shimmy, pulling Milo along while accidentally tugging him side to side during the entire feat. He was almost definitely safer by the wall, but the fact flew over her head as she proudly continued to drag him along.

[milobooker]

whose idea it'd been, he doesn't remember, but what it has taught milo that any decision to hangout with baker in the future is one they should be making far more sober than they had been by the end of the party. the dynamic duo, as it were, are so clearly not equipped for the spontaneous as they'd thought with a red cup of something amber in their hands that milo wonders why they hadn't called it quits and done something different when they'd pulled up outside of the rink in the first place.

"y'know who i blame? mack. or thadd. or maybe tyson. or that fucker aiden - i swear to god, he put somethin' in my goddamn drink. that last one was so strong i couldn't taste anythin' - shit, fuck - anythin' when i woke up next morning."

Phoebe couldn't remember the last time she strapped on a pair of blades and hit the ice. Which is precisely why her wobbly ankles had her reaching for the safety bar. "I'm not going that much faster than you are," Phoebe shouted as she craned her head to the side to see a struggling Milo.

"Stop being dramatic. Your fingers can't get sliced off if you never let go of the railing." Why did they have this idea to go ice skating again and how drunk had Phoebe been when she agreed to it? "Maybe we should have gone roller skating instead. Or even a nice day by the pool. But no, we decided to go ice skating," Phoebe complained as her grip on the bar tightened to keep her balance.

[milobooker]

"you... wanna get me into bed?" milo mumbles, the oddly wonderful and weird buzz he'd gotten from the shots and beers with the guys after work falling flat far too quickly for his liking, dissipating into nothing as he visibly deflates into a puddle of what he hopes isn't such an obvious shame. of course, maybe he'd been foolish not to think all those times he'd borrowed or promised to pay eventually wouldn't catch up to him.

after all, there's only a single currency anyone ever wanted from him, wasn't there?

and whether or not milo considers the fact that perhaps he'd misunderstood isn't a relevant thought that crosses his mind as he pushes himself back to his feet, his head bowed with a tired shame of sorts that weighs heavy on his shoulders.

"i guess... i guess, if that's what you really want..."

Had this sort of stubbornness been what Aiden put JJ through during the Summer Block Fest thing? There is a scowl at the realization, but not an ounce of guilt for it. If he can just get Milo to that same level of compliance, everything will be golden. He lets the comments roll off his shoulders with little annoyance. It's Milo being Milo with his mouth running faster than anyone can keep up with, even Milo himself.

"Yeah, go ahead," Aiden challenges, stepping back to allow the space for Milo to step ahead. He waits expectantly for him to stumble and fall, unbalanced with his equilibrium thrown off. Jeez - Aiden lives in a near-consistent buzz, but he can say at least he allows himself the ability to walk home. Aiden's arms cross over his chest. "It's not too tilted, you're too drunk, jackass."

"Will you cooperate enough for me to get you into bed now? Or are you going to keep being best friends with the sidewalk."

[milobooker]

he wouldn't push it; not at first, anyway. wouldn't ask what the reasons for her tears are and if she wanted to talk, not when tori would ever the be the one to press that she's fine, that there's nothing to show concern for. he understood it well enough, though. certainly so when his own wall stood higher than most.

brushing the knuckles of his fingers over her cheek to rid it of the fresh tears, milo chuckles and steps past her into the apartment, already feeling out of place. it's a home, and not a shelter in comparison to his own apartment, with meowcolm being the only thing worthwhile there.

"well, it's extra chocolatey, how am i supposed to say no?" he says gently. "always spoilin' me."

it was a wonder that they'd only known each other for such a short amount of time. tori would swear that they'd been friends forever, and she was thankful that milo ignored her insistence 'i'm okay' texts. he was rarity where people were concerned, and it was why she gave him a gentle squeeze before pulling back a little.

the fact he cared enough to check almost made her cry more.

she let out something between a choke and a laugh, nodding as she stepped aside to let him. "i know you would, and it's why you're an amazing friend, frankly." she returned softly. "c'mon, there's some cocoa on the stove if you want some. extra chocolatey."

[milobooker]

"no, see, if they both ganged up on me at once, i'd be fucked. 'cause there's no way i'm stronger than thadd and if he held me while tallulah beat my ass? bruh." he can see it now; the way he'd be thrown into the nearest pile of garbage and left for the rats to feast on, or perhaps a desperate trash panda. photos would appear around social media and he'd never be able to escape the shame that he'd gotten the crap kicked out of him by a set of twins while he sported a cowboy hat and the dumbest sunglasses he could find.

"okay, but first, pop quiz; was it necessary to remind me of my flat tire or are you just tryin' to find an excuse to get me drinkin' more?" milo groans, guiding blake towards the table with random bottles of booze that milo had been rather suspicious of at first. "'cause when you said shot, i thought you meant alcohol, not at my heart, ya know?"

There is a sincerity to Milo's tone that pulls the softest smile to Blake's face, and that fact she is so confident that anything following, all of which Milo openly admits he will not say for fear of provoking any streak of protectiveness from her little brother, wouldn't be anything harmful. 

"Thadd's a teddy bear." She winks at him, linking her arm in his. "It's Lulu you got to worry about." By far, Blake will stand by that, but that isn't to say Thadd wouldn't rise to the occasion if she needed him. She's grateful for the relationship she has with them both. 

"I'm feeling... another glass of punch. Whatever this 'Voodoo Juice' is - and maybe a shot with Mr. Cowboy Gentleman? It's not like you have to drive."

[milobooker]

there's an awkward space of sorts still sitting between them, the kind milo is entirely aware he'd put there himself. how leo doesn't reach for him in the same ways he used to, body remembering the movement with fond memories of better days, mind hesitating with the uncertainty of how much has changed. it's sad, in a way, that things could fall apart so easily. and milo could sit leo down now, away from the people and the party with a beer bottle in hand and tell him why. pour out his heart and fill the space with all the reasons and all the excuses of why he ran, of why he built a wall so high that he hadn't been able to climb past it himself.

instead, he keeps the smile, bites his tongue and chuckles as leo rushes forth again in a way he couldn't keep up with any more. not for lack of trying, but for the way guilt kept him back, restrained and in place and wondering why leo answered his phone all those weeks ago at all.

"i do, but, i can't drink too much tonight," milo sighs, taking the shot without much of a fight anyway. "a boy's gotta work tomorrow night." at the diner, or the club; he'd have to check. he pauses now though, looking at the shot with his teeth scraping the inside of his lip with an unusual lacking to his confidence. "hey... leo?" milo then murmurs, fidgeting awkwardly where he stood.

"you, uh... s'okay to be mad at me. you don't gotta pretend nothin' happened. i mean, i appreciate that you're doin' that, but... s'okay, y'know?"

“Wha - Gadzooks! What’s this! A smile? From Milo Booker?” As he exaggerates, Leo leans forward automatically to annoy Milo further, pinch his cheeks or maybe get his hands back into unruly hair. Leo enjoys touch just by nature, he’d never been one to hesitate, and he hates the unsurety of the whole situation. He especially hates second guessing when it comes to people he’s close with - and they were close, once. They still are, he likes to think. But the moment’s gone before he can follow through, spell of weariness broken when Milo’s the one to reach out himself. “Fuck off,” Leo mumbles, giving the other’s hand a squeeze when he goes to toss it away. The smile’s returned, at least, fond pressure in their touch paired alongside to show he doesn’t mean anything by it. “The more you bully me the more it unlocks my secret humiliation kink. You’re just digging a bigger hole for yourself.” There’s no good comeback to Milo’s observation - Leo’s attention span had always been as flimsy as a piece of wet cardboard. “Yeah, well -,” In the face of his incapability, Leo eyes over his shoulder, watching a blonde foolishly leave her bottle of tequila unattended at the bar table, “How much are y’drinking tonight?” Changing topics at a winding pace, Leo took off for the bottle of golden liquor, waving Milo closer, “Like, how drunk are you getting? You still, like, drink, right? Jesus H. Christ, please say you still drink.” Instead of waiting for an answer, Leo merely shoves an overflowing shot into Milo’s hand - it’s a cheap excuse to make things feel more like how they used to. Not that Leo would ever deny himself a drink as was. But it felt cheap on their friendship - he just wasn’t particularly good at dealing with any level of discomfort.

[milobooker]

at least asha doesn't push, a thing he's entirely grateful for when her hand lays on his arm. "ohh, workin' with thadd wouldn't be so bad. feel like i'd spend the entire time gettin' on his nerves though. something about him just makes me wanna give him hell for the fun of it," milo says, the beginning of a comfortable grin slipping back onto his face. "he's a fun time."

he laughs then, shaking his head as he hides his face behind a hand. "you see nothing, m'lady. i'm a good boy and a child of god," he says with a giggle. "only place i'm lookin' is up when i pray."

"Oh," Asha said softly. Something about that response was unsettling to her but she made the conscious decision not to ask more questions. If Milo wanted to tell her, he'd tell her.

Picking up her glass, Asha drew a long gulp from it before she chuckled at the way Milo turned red. "Don't worry about it babe, it's not for everyone," she told him gently playing her hand on his arm. "Though, I could ask about you getting behind the bar or being a server - both make good tips and you'd be working with Thadd."

"I mean, you're the cutest Milo." She grinned. "I know you know it too. I see you way you be eyeing people and they be eyeing back."

[milobooker]

"oh good, lots of... lots of blood... all the fingers... yep..." milo says through gritted teeth, well aware of what kind of pansy he looked like right about now. it is pretty impressive though, or, what he does manage to catch of sasika is anyway. the way she's so much more comfortable on the ice than he is, how she knows what she's doing.

"fine... and promise not to spin me around either or i swear to god when we get outta here i'm dumpin' you in the nearest trash can i can find," he whines.

Sasika personally hated the cold, but even she had to admit that this heat was unbearable. Unless you're going to squat at a beach and drink cocktails, there was absolutely no need for it to be this sweltering. The ice reminded her of home, the snowy mountains that her family visited as a kid. She had learnt to skate quite young. To the point, that it was basically a muscle memory despite having not put on skates in at least a decade.

"Come on, chicken shit—" she called out to Milo as her own form of encouragement. "You'd be pretty lucky to lose just a finger, so just keep your hands off the ice, yeah? The skaters can smell your fear and they look like they're out for blood." Said skaters who were circling were mostly children, less bloodthirsty and more laughing at his expense.

Twirling around on the spot on her skates, Sasika waited for him to join her, away from safety of the railing to no avail. "What if I hold your hand? I promise not to leave you stranded."

[milobooker]

"not my ass," he whines, glancing towards fiona's hand without an ounce of trust behind it. two things could happen here, according to milo's brief and panicked calculations. the first, fiona would find it within herself to be kind and gently skate him around the rink like all the parents with their children.

or the second, where she would take joy in whizzing him around the rink until he did, indeed, fall on his ass and slide away into the abyss of sharp blades and lost fingers.

"ohh fuck - okay, okay... be nice, be nice, be nice..." he starts to say, reaching out a reluctant hand to take her hand. he wobbles something frightful, grasps her hand with both of his and then stops dead still. "ohhh... ohhh, did i ever tell you i skipped sports classes in school? 'cause i did. oh, i did. not an athletic bone in my body - fuck - why couldn't we go to the movies, huh? like normal people?"

"Just take my hand," Fiona says, letting out a tinkling laugh, delighted by Milo's predicament. Really had it not been for his overreaction, she wouldn't have found it so funny. "Meowcolm would be so proud of you for facing your fears, babe," she tells him, holding her hands out. "You're gonna be fine. Worst that happens is you fall and get a bruise on your ass for a week. Not the end of the world."

[milobooker]

"dunno. never had one to compare," he grins, watching with greedy bug eyes as the plate got fuller and fuller. parties, he found, were a wonderful excuse to indulge and stock up on leftovers to take home without feeling guilty or as though he'd been taken care of out of pity. the food here is meant to be taken and scoffed down.

milo could get behind that easy.

taking the plate from asha and feeling thoroughly doted on, it doesn't take long for a full fork to find his mouth, and milo reminds himself he doesn't need to eat like his life depending on it here, or quickly, out of fear it'd suddenly disappear.

"now you're talkin'," milo says post swallowing his food a bit too fast, patting his chest with his fist with the hopes of letting it go down. "spoilin' me tonight, ain't ya?"

"Thank you, thank you!" Asha grinned. These days, she wasn't quite sure how she identified. She'd only ever been with men of course but that didn't stop her from looking at women and getting tingly feelings. Maybe one day she'd get the balls to explore that a little deeper.

"And what kind of mom would I be if I didn't?" She asked him with a laugh. She began opening up various foil pans and scooping food into Milo's plate, snatching a few bites for herself here and there. Turning to him, she handed him the plate and stuck a plastic fork in it before she announced. "Now drinks!"

[milobooker]

for: open starter ( @fairfordstarters ) where: crystal ice palace

admittedly, he hadn't agreed to something so dumb in a while.

'lets hang out' they'd said, 'lets go ice skating and beat the heat' they'd said and naturally, at thadd's party, beer bottle in hand, milo had said yeah, why not. sounds like a great idea.

a great fuckin' idea indeed.

"could you maybe slow the hell down?" he grumbles, gripping the railing of the rink tight. his legs shook like bambi, the skates on his feet less than reliable with him at the helm and god, milo thought he might've been too afraid to look up if it wasn't for the giggling aimed in his direction that definitely wasn't a laugh along with him kind of scenario he'd hope for. "ya know people lose their fingers on these things?"

"sliced right off like sausages and i need my fingers, dude. i need 'em. how can i serve drinks if i can't hold a glass?" he whimpers, moving half a centimetre before giving up again. "i'll never be able to pet meowcolm again... oh fuck me... why is it so slippery... was ice always this slippery?"

[milobooker]

"yeah, well, that's me," milo chuckles, wrapping an arm around tori's waist. "hey."

so he'd been right then. admittedly, a rare thing to happen when it came to milo's hunches, the tendency to overthink or be overly concerned blinding all sides for rational thought. but when he's right, he's always right, and there's a relief in his chest that he made it all the way over.

otherwise, she'd be alone right now, wouldn't she?

"you gonna invite me in? 'cause, if you don't, i'ma just sit here all night. i don't care, i'll do it."

self preservation had a habit of coming and going where tori was concerned. typically she was far more concerned with her friends’ and family’s well being than her own. she’d gotten fairly good at tucking away the emotions she was actually feeling, until she could deal with them alone. never a burden. she’d rather help others than focus on herself some days, at least on her worst days.

today, just so happened to be one of them.

when milo had asked how she was doing in their text conversation, she’d admittedly danced around the topic. when he’d playfully threatened to come to her place if tori didn’t tell him what was wrong, she’d had half a mind to think he was joking. but in his defense, she’d known him just long enough to know he was a man of his word. so while she was still surprised at the knock on her door not too long after the texts ended was beyond her.

she almost didn’t open the door, but at this hour, it could only be milo. and tori wasn’t about to leave him outside, even if that meant him seeing she wasn’t, in fact, alright like she’d lied. wiping at the tears that were on her cheeks, she opened the door.

“freaking twerp,” she sarcastically greeted in response to his greeting, snaking her arms around his neck loosely in a hug. “hi.” she said softly.

[milobooker]

"scurvy? in this day and age. nah, i like a smoothie. it's just bowls of fruit." then his eyes narrow, watching tallulah's face for a beat or two before he snorts.

"i still won't eat apples until i know the seeds are out, actually. in case a tree grows in my stomach."

Lu's brows slowly furrow more and more the more Milo explains, one then beggining to slowly lift --unimpressed -- at the display of dramatics.

She takes a slow bite from her chip, considering him, before speaking again.

"If I were you, bro, my main concern would be scurvy if fruit makes you do that."

[milobooker]

"and a happy pride to you!" he chuckles, pulling asha in for a half hug around the way she held onto him the best he could. he tips his cowboy hat, pushes the sunglasses back up his nose and puts a grin back onto his face, reminding himself that this is fun milo's night out and not tired, exhausted milo.

"oh, well now you're really spoilin' me, aren't ya?" milo grins, leaning up against one of the kitchen counters. "if you want to. i'll only pocket everything and make a run for it otherwise. i'm a growin' boy, and all that."

A grimace appeared on Asha's face as she eyed Milo more. "Okay..." she groaned out, thinking that he looked ridiculous. Sure, she was dressed like an animated bunny but that was the point. He just stood out - however, if he liked it then she loved it. "It is pride," she thought about it as he said it and she grinned, "Happy Pride Milo!" bouncing up and down on her toes, she gripped his arms and gave him a squeeze.

"mama?" Asha gazed upon Milo with an unreadable expression before she laughed out and said, "that's fair. I'll take it!" Holding his hand, she lead him into the kitchen and she looked over all of the options before she grabbed a plate. "Should mama make your plate?"

[milobooker]

"nah... i just, have a lot of responsibilities..." milo mumbles. or old ones, perhaps. the sorts that had followed him all the way to fairford without a show of mercy, not even once. of course, he's got no one but himself to blame for some of the debts still chasing him. the rest would fall on his aunt. but she wouldn't do anything about that, would she?

still cleaning up after his dad, he supposed. even now, with the man equivalent to ashes in the wind.

but, as she could so naturally do, asha pulls milo from his thoughts with the simple pet name, only to deepen the red in his cheeks. "ya know what? i think i'm alright beggin' for tips," he says awkwardly, clearing his throat as he began to fiddle with his beer bottle. he couldn't tell if it was an embarrassed heat of sorts scolding his face, or if it's the shame. "i like my body bein' my own again."

milo sits still in his fidgeting long enough to tilt his head and allow asha the room to wipe at his face, his teeth gnawing at the inside of his bottom lip. "thanks for sayin' i'm cute, though."

"You mean to tell me you're making pennies at Opal?!" She was shocked. Opal was such a big club - were they underpaying their employees? That was really fucked up. Maybe she needed to go talk to Grey. At the very least, on Milo's behalf. She didn't really care about everyone else.

A smile stretched across her face and she shook her head at him. "Baby, I'm not talking about getting on the pole," she giggled. Her eyes looking him over again. "I'm talking about OnlyFans." Her eyes sparkled. "Scantily clad on your own terms and there's something for everybody. You're cute Milo, you'll have all type of women subscribing to see your scrawny ass."

"The best part about it is, you really don't have to even be doing anything sexual. You can just be cooking breakfast with your shirt off and people will flock." She was speaking from her own experience. Her own OnlyFans was mostly filled with pictures of her in a bikini and maybe some lingerie. Nothing crazy and she made money. "Think about it."

Seeing Milo blushing, Asha grinned at him, gently wiping her lip gloss from his cheek with a napkin.

[milobooker]

rumor has it Meowcolm is the king of your apartment

"ahh see, someone gets it! the little bastard even has his own throne. s'alright though. if anyone's deservin', it's him."