#milo/sh

[frog-0n-a-l0g]

Milo always tries to get SH back for scaring him but it usually doesn’t work. Usually. One time though he waited behind the door for them for once they got home bc he knew they’d be tired and wouldn’t be checking for his aura. When they came in he scared them so bad that they fell through the floor. They couldn’t get back out for a good 2 minutes. He felt bad and had a movie night w them after

[dominimoonbeam]

The Truth in Your Skin - 14

ANGST! Okay, so we're adding some body image moments to the tags here and a sexual harassment tag. I feeeeel like you're all well and truly buckled up for the threat of danger and angst in this fic because of the Quinn past (and possible future, who knows, I'm dramatic like that) but this isn't Quinn or Darlin, so we're adding a new tag!! <3 <3

Thanks for getting this far. Hope you enjoy the fic! <3 From the start over on ao3.

Darlin/David, Milo/Sweetheart, Asher/Huxley

chapter tags: sexual harassment, body image issues, violence, communication issues, avoidance, doubt, hurt/comfort

The Truth in Your Skin - 14

“So… You’re apartment hunting?” Asher asked.

Milo nodded, sprawled out in Asher’s chair and scrolling on his phone. “It makes sense.”

Asher raised a pierced eyebrow and leaned against the wall. “Right… Because you’re a couple.”

Milo raspberried but didn’t take his eyes off his phone. “No, because we’re great friends and even better roommates. You should see these listings they were looking at. No fucking way they’re moving in with some stranger. Do you know how many creeps there are out there?”

Asher laughed. “So, the logical step, is to get a bigger apartment so that the two of you can be… roommates?”

Milo nodded at his phone.

The back door thumped shut and David walked in. “What’s going on?” he asked automatically as he started setting up the shop.

Asher waved a hand at Milo. “Looks like the idiots are officially moving in together… as roommates.”

David glanced over at Milo and then huffed a laugh. “Sounds about right. When are you two going to get a pet?”

Milo sat up, seeming to just then realize David was there. “We were looking at cats the other day.”

Asher laughed and David tried not to.

Milo frowned. “What?”

They laughed harder.

Milo rolled his eyes. “Fuck you guys. Are we still going to that out of town game this weekend?”

Asher nodded. “Yeah. Road trip!” His smile got sly. “You and Sweets sharing a hotel room?”

Milo wrinkled his nose. “Of course. Why would we pay for two? That’s stupid.”

“Yeah… you two are all about frugality,” David agreed in a mumble.

The front door chimed.

“That’s probably my one o’clock.” Asher shooed Milo out of his chair on his way to the front. He was still smiling when he stepped out to the front desk and saw the vaguely familiar face waiting for him. One of Huxley’s teammates had called about getting a piece done and set up the appointment.

After handshakes and niceties, he led him back.

Milo was gone, probably off to pick out curtains with Sweetheart. God, they were hilarious. He wasn’t sure he’d ever known any couple more fucking coupley than those two.

“Nice place,” the client, Colt, said.

David turned the music on on his way to the front with a stack of paperwork in hand.

“Thanks,” Asher said, gesturing him to have a seat and pulling out the sketch they’d talked about. It wasn’t a big piece.

Colt clapped his hands. “I’m getting the VIP treatment right? The Huxley special?”

Asher laughed and shrugged. “Sure.” He put his gloves on and told the guy to drop his jeans. He wanted to tattoo on his thigh, after all. He was already shaved, so it was just a matter of disinfecting the area before putting the stencil down. “You’ve got other tattoos right?”

“Oh yeah.” Colt nodded, pushing a sleeve up to show ink from wrist to elbow.

“Good, then this shouldn’t be any surprise.” Asher smiled and prepped the needle. He had a couple more clients today and then he was meeting up with Hux for dinner.

He settled into a good position and then gave the guy one last look. “You’re good?”

A thumbs up and a big grin.

Asher started the needle. “So how long have you and Hux played together?” he asked, starting the linework. Not everyone liked to talk while they got work done but Asher was great at rolling out questions if they liked the distraction.

“Years,” Colt said. “I gotta say, I was real fucking surprised when he started bringing you to events.”

Asher didn’t look up from his work. “Yeah? Why?”

Colt snorted. “I mean, you don’t exactly look like most of the puck bunnies, you know? And Hux has never brought a date. We were all starting to think he was like, not into anything, you know? Turns out he’s just into weird.”

Asher stopped, suddenly feeling heat rush his face. Weird?

Colt laughed. “But who’s not into weird sometimes, right?”

Before Asher could even start to unpack what this guy was saying, a big hand slid over the back of his head.

Asher shot to his feet, knocking the hand off of him.

Colt stared up at him, looking so honestly confused and smiley that Asher thought he might have hallucinated this conversation. And then he noticed the very obvious erection bulging the front of Colt’s boxer briefs.

Asher frowned. “Do you need a minute?”

“Oh, I’ll last more than a minute…”

“Dude, you see that I’m holding a needle, right?” Asher held it up.

Colt grinned. “Yeah. I figure, you mark me and then I’ll mark you. Like with Huxley.”

Asher felt like his brain was rebooting too slowly. What the actual fuck was happening right now?

It wasn’t like he hadn’t had clients flirt with him before. But this was…

His heart pounded in his throat but he just stood there, caught between work and whatever the hell this guy was saying to him. Did Huxley think that? Had he said that? No. No fucking way.

And then, before he could finish that brain reboot, David came out of fucking nowhere.

Colt’s surprise was worse than Asher’s, because David grabbed him by the front of the shirt and hauled him up out of the chair, his jeans still around his ankles and two lines of a tattoo on his thigh.

Asher flicked the needle off, still stunned, but listened to the guy shouting and laughing and trying to calm David on that awkward drag to the front door.

The bell chimed and David threw the other big guy right out onto the street. His voice was so low that Asher couldn’t catch the words, but there was definitely a threat there. And then the door closed with another snap of the bell and the locks slid into place.

Asher felt like his face was on fire. He hurried to move before David came back, starting the process of cleaning up his station just like he had a thousand times before.

“Who was that?” David asked.

Asher shook his head and shrugged.

David caught his arm to make him stand upright and stop trying to clean up. He put one big hand against the side of Asher’s neck and made him look back at him. There were so many questions and concerns in David’s gaze. “Who the fuck was that?” he asked again.

Asher sighed. “Just some guy from Hux’s team. He said he wanted a tattoo. I didn’t know he… would…” He waved a hand, floundering for words.

David nodded, that angry crease in his brow. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Asher took a step back and gestured at himself like it was proof.

“Ash,” David said, voice weighted in seriousness.

Asher looked at him.

“You can punch clients that pull shit like that.”

“What?”

“You hesitated. I know this is our business and you’re used to being the nice one, but you can turn that off and just kick them the fuck out.”

Asher nodded. That made sense. Yeah. And he knew where that line was out in clubs. Asher could definitely handle himself.

“Just imagine it’s someone else.”

“What?”

“Imagine it’s one of Milo’s clients and what you’d do then.”

Asher laughed, surprising himself and relieved to feel that gross feeling in his chest loosen. “Milo would have punched him.”

David snorted. “Bad example.”

Asher sighed and nodded, shaking it off. It wasn’t his first time dealing with a creep. But this guy had known Huxley, had talked like… “What an asshole,” Asher said with a shrug.

David nodded but his mouth pinched, eyes still on Asher.

Asher realized he was still worried and laughed, clapping his shoulder. “Look at you playing hero, though! Damn you were quick to haul him out.”

“Haul who out?” Darlin asked, walking in the back door with a big yawn like they’d just woken up.

“I had a creepy client and David straight up bounced him!”

Darlin stopped, blinking at them. “Seriously?”

Asher nodded, back to cleaning up. He wanted to get rid of every bit of evidence this guy had been there… but he didn’t rush, because he could still feel David sneaking glances at him. “Turns out Davey missed his true calling—bouncer.”

Darlin smiled, shrugging out of their jacket. “I thought you said his true calling was line cook?”

Asher shook his head. “New true calling.” Weird. He was weird. Did Huxley think he was weird? No way Hux said that sort of stuff… right?

-

Huxley stood in the locker room, frowning at his phone after practice. Asher had cancelled on dinner last night and wasn’t sure he could meet up tonight either. That was okay, of course, but… But there was something off about it that Hux couldn’t quite explain.

-are you ok? He typed the words but hesitated to send them, just staring at them. Was it somehow too needy to ask? They were still new, and Asher wasn’t saying anything was wrong. He was just… off?

The sound of some of the other players coming down the hall spilled through the doors ahead of them.

Hux sent the question, leaning against his locker and watching the screen.

The group of his teammates burst into the locker room on the other side, unaware of him for now. Which was great, because as soon as they spotted him, there was no way they’d let him mop around with his phone.

“You’re an asshole, Colt,” Riley said, putting a laugh on it but sounding like he was actually mad. He didn’t usually get mad, so it almost took Huxley’s focus from his phone.

His message was read. Asher was typing…

“You saw him! Why wouldn’t I try to get some strange too?” Colt snapped back on the other side of the lockers, gear thumping into the floor and benches.

“Huxley’s going to lay you out if you don’t watch it,” Riley warned.

Huxley looked up at his name. What the fuck were they talking about?

Colt sputtered. “Hux loves me. And it was just a joke. That fucking freak didn’t even finish the damn tattoo!”

Huxley heart pounded. His text conversation bumped up.

-yeah

-100

-see you tomorrow maybe?

Hux still had his phone in his hand when he came around the lockers.

Riley saw him first, standing straighter and looking more resigned than caught. Probably because he wasn’t the one caught, right?

“What?” Colt barked and then turned to see Huxley right there behind him. Hux wasn’t sure what the hell he was talking about, but the flash of panic and guilt on his friend’s face before he covered it up with that ugly twist of attitude told him too much. Colt had definitely done something. “When—”

“What did you do?”

Colt shook his head. “Nothing. What are you talking about?” He wouldn’t tell him. He had never admitted to shit when he fucked up.

Hux held up a hand, having to pull it back to keep from pushing the guy in front of him. His moms always said no pushing off the ice. Problems should be handled with words. He looked at Riley. They’d all played together for years. Riley looked angry. Which was why Hux was pretty damn sure he should be angry. “What did he do?”

Colt rolled his eyes and threw his helmet at his locker. “Come on! I didn’t do shit!”

Hux didn’t look at him. He just looked at Riley and waited.

Some of the other guys were looking shamefaced and anywhere but at the scene.

Riley nodded.

“Shut the fuck up!” Colt warned before Riley even started. But it didn’t stop him.

“Dipshit here went to your boyfriend’s shop to get a tattoo yesterday. He ran his mouth and made a move. Like he thought he was getting a happy ending or something. Got kicked out.”

Huxley stared, trying to process that. Ran his mouth? At Asher? A happy ending? He swung toward Colt, who jumped back for the first time in their friendship. “What the fuck?”

Colt laughed, hands up at his sides. “Dude! I was just messing around! It’s not my fault if goth puck bunny took it serious!”

“What did you say to him?”

“What?”

“What did you do?” Huxley ground out each word, the whole fucking locker room gone silent around them.

Colt’s face twisted from surprised to scorned. He shoved forward, pushing into Huxley’s space. “You can’t blame me for wanting to know what’s got you drooling over that metal-faced freak! Is it the tongue ring?” He grinned. “Is it—”

Huxley snapped his head forward, the same way he had a hundred times on the ice, knocking his head right into Colt’s. It should have hurt, but it didn’t. Colt fell back and as soon as he had the space, Huxley threw a punch that turned him face-first into the locker and sent him sliding to the floor.

Riley nodded like this had been the obvious and only outcome, back to working his gear off. “He told your guy he wanted the Huxley special. Only got a couple lines into the tattoo before he got kicked out.”

Colt groaned on the floor, coming to.

Huxley looked at his phone in his hand again and those last messages from Asher telling him they were 100 when they definitely weren’t. He stepped over Colt and grabbed his shit from his locker before storming out.

He called Asher on his way to his truck. What was he even going to say? What the fuck had happened?

Colt had said so many mean things. Had he said that shit to Asher? Had he hurt him?

Asher didn’t answer and Huxley shoved his phone back in his pocket and unlocked his truck.

-

Asher rubbed the steam off the mirror in the bathroom and then stepped back, music blaring through the apartment. He pushed his wet hair out of his face and looked at his reflection.

Weird.

Why did it keep coming up in his thoughts? Why did he care?

Weird.

It had never bothered him before.

David thumped his fist on the door and shouted over the music, “We’re heading out. Be back tonight!”

Asher nodded even though no one could see, still looking at himself. “Yeah. Have fun!”

He waited, wondering if he’d heard the door shut. It was impossible to hear.

Why hadn’t he just gone out with Hux tonight? He missed him. But his stomach hurt when he thought about actually seeing him. He’d have to tell him what happened… Would he even believe him? What if it was something he’d said to his teammates? What if he was embarrassed? What if Asher really was like a weird fling?

“Fuck.” He dropped his head forward, scrubbing a hand over his face. He had never been insecure like this before. But he liked Huxley. Like, really really fucking liked him. What if this was a real issue?

He looked at himself again, leaning closer, eyeing those piercings in his face.

No one was home.

He took the piercings out, trying not to think too much about what he was doing and why. It wasn’t a big deal. He was just looking at something. He put the last one down, his chin low, and forced his eyes up to his reflection again. Reaching up, he covered the ink on his temple sneaking out from his hairline, tilting his face so as not to see the one on his neck. His heart hurt.

No.

Nope.

He shook his head, even with tears in his eyes. He couldn’t change who he was and he didn’t want to. Even just thinking about it was hollowing him out in a way he could tell would wreck him. He liked Huxley a lot, but what was the point if Huxley didn’t really like him? What was the point if he tried to be someone else?

He picked up one of his eyebrow bars but a bang on the bathroom door made him jump and drop the damn thing. “Damn it!”

“Ash?” Huxley called over the music, Asher barely registering the familiar voice before the door was open and they were staring at each other.

Asher blinked and then huffed a laugh. This had to be the worst week. He was totally naked, piercings out, in his bathroom with the music still blasting through the apartment and looking at the last person he wanted to see him right now in the doorway. “Hi.”

-

Huxley had caught David and Darlin in the hall on their way out on a date. He could hear the music through the apartment door.

It was sheer luck that David let him in. There was no way Asher would have heard him over the music.

He realized pretty quickly that he was in the bathroom and almost barged in before thinking better of it and knocking first. But then he heard Asher swear inside and opened the door anyway.

They stared at each other.

Asher was naked and gorgeous but… but all his face piercings were out.

“Hi,” Asher said.

“Hi,” Huxley said and then winced because he had just busted in on the other guy. “Sorry. I tried to call. We…We need to talk.”

Asher’s tight smile fell, along with his chin. He nodded and grabbed his briefs, pulling them on. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you in the living room?”

Huxley nodded and backed away, turning down the hall for the living room and trying to figure out how exactly to have this conversation. How was he supposed to ask about what happened when Asher hadn’t told him? He wanted to apologize but he wasn’t even sure for what.

Asher took longer than he’d expected but when he came down the hall, Huxley realized why. His piercings were back in. Well, all but one of the eyebrow studs.

He went to the speaker and turned off the music, and then he stayed there across the room from him, leaning against the wall, waiting.

“I heard… I heard Colt came to your studio yesterday,” he said, watching Asher. He looked so far away, his arms folded and his shoulder against the wall.

Asher winced, gaze finally meeting his but it was a mix of anger and nerves. “He came onto me.” The words burst out of him, like he thought Huxley might have thought otherwise? “He… He’s kind of an asshole.”

Huxley nodded, stepping closer. “He’s a huge asshole,” he agreed. “I’m so sorry that happened. Whatever he said… I’m sorry, Ash.”

Asher blinked at him and then slowly pushed off the wall, arms unfolding. “Is this… Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

Huxley felt as confused as his boyfriend looked. “Yeah? I mean… this is why you cancelled on me, right? Why you’re avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding… I was just…” He sighed. “I just needed to think and I knew when I saw you, I’d have to tell you about it and I wasn’t ready.”

Huxley nodded. That made sense. “I wish you felt like you could have told me what happened yesterday, but I get it.” He took another step closer, wanting so much to close that gap between them but scared that it wasn’t just physical. “Wait. What did you think we were going to talk about?” What else could there be but this?

Asher exhaled hard, almost a laugh but too tight to make it. He shrugged. “I mean, I thought you were breaking up with me.”

Huxley almost lost his footing. “What? Why?”

Asher waved a hand. “The whole Colt thing and what he said about…” the words cut off and he looked sick. “I just—”

“What did he say?”

Asher shook his head, one hand going to his brow, touching the stud that was there and then the spot where one was missing. He wouldn’t quite look at Huxley. “I don’t know, man. He just threw me and I guess I thought… And he seems like the kind of douchebag who’s going to tell everyone he got what he wanted even if David threw him on his ass, right?”

Huxley took a step closer, catching those fragments of information. “You thought I’d believed him?”

Asher winced and that hand moved from his face to his scalp, clawing fingers through his hair. “I mean, maybe? You’ve known him longer than me.”

“I don’t know him,” Huxley said. “I’ve played with him for years, but I don’t know him. I don’t want to know him. But I want to know you, and you wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry this happened. Can you… Can you tell me exactly what happened?” And why it had clearly freaked him out so bad? This was more than worrying that he’d believe some lies.

Asher exhaled some of that tension in his lean body, finally taking a step closer to Huxley, meeting him in the middle of the little living room. “I’m sorry. I guess I just spun out.” He touched Huxley’s wrist, the gesture somewhere between casual and exploratory, like he wasn’t really sure what would happen.

Huxley turned his arm, collecting Asher’s hand in his, relieved beyond belief for that contact and that invitation to nearness. His other hand touched the side of Asher’s face. “No, dude, don’t downplay it. You’re upset.”

Asher smiled but it was a ghost of the real thing. “I’m okay! So much better now.”

Huxley nodded slowly. This was all still new and he was just as tempted to lean into the idea of getting back to how they usually were, but Asher had looked so hurt… “Listen. I know you can handle yourself and you can probably handle whatever this is, but I’m right here. You could tell me. Sometimes it helps to say it.”

Asher stared up at him, so close now. His thin smile fell and after another stretch of thinking, he dropped his head, looking at a point on Huxley’s chest. “He said some shit about how he was surprised to find out you were into weird. …who’s not into weird sometimes? he said. He wanted the Huxley special. I was starting a thigh tat and he grabbed the back of my head. Said I’d mark him and then he’d mark me…just like you.”

Huxley had to hold his breath to keep from reacting. Fury fluttered in his chest, but he focused on Asher’s cheek so soft under the sweep of his thumb. This wasn’t about his anger.

Asher sighed, cringing. “I wasn’t scared or anything. I could have tossed him out myself. I just… I thought he was a friend of yours and then I had to wonder if…”

“If I’d said that?”

Asher closed his eyes and shook his head. “I know you wouldn’t but… I mean. We’ve been going to these team get-togethers with the other partners and families and I get it. I stick out. What if I am just some strange you’re getting out of your system?” As soon as he said it, he winced and shook his head again. “I’m sorry.”

Huxley gently lifted his face to get him to look at him. “Hey. No. We’ve been together for a few months, man. You get to have doubts and I am so fucking sorry I didn’t notice you were worried about this. You are the kindest, funniest, sexiest person I have ever met. You’re not strange or weird. You’re you. You’re perfect, Asher.”

Asher stared back at him, eyes big, hand squeezing his. “Damn…”

“What?”

Asher smiled slowly. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Huxley exhaled a laugh. “Well, I’ll say it whenever you want to hear it. I’ll say it until you’re sick of it.”

Asher shook his head, leaning in until their hips and stomachs were pressed together. “Not possible.” He kissed him.

Huxley kissed him back, fireworks of relief going off behind his eyelids. The kiss was slow and easy, not demanding or pushing for more, just reaffirming and reveling in that connection. When they broke for air, he leaned his forehead to Asher’s. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he whispered again.

Asher sighed but it was light now. “Not your fault. I really should have punched him though…”

“I knocked him out in the locker room before coming over here…” he admitted, expecting to feel bad about it eventually but not yet.

Asher pulled his head back to look at him. “Did you really?”

Huxley nodded.

Asher grinned. “Thanks.”

[ejunkiet]

you’ve got red on you

prompt fill for the wonderful @pinksparkl about Milo’s reaction to Sweetheart having a panic attack in front of him for the first time.

(special bonus points to anyone who recognises the title >:3)

redacted audio: milo/sweetheart, rated teen. cw: panic attacks

Milo comforts his mate after a panic attack. - “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re okay. Just- breathe.”

READ ON AO3

--

you’ve got red on you

All it takes is a moment of distraction while he’s prepping dinner for his grip on the kitchen knife to slip, the sharp edge slicing across his palm and sending the half-chopped vegetables scattering. “Shit!”

“Milo?”

“S’all good, sweetheart. Just, fucked up with the knife.” It’s an understatement, considering the state of the counters, the blood welling from the cut in his palm spilling over onto the hardwood. Goddamnit. He knew better than to get distracted while using the good knife. Christ, the shit his mother would give him over this-

He wraps his hand in a dishcloth before he stumbles over to the sink, a litany of curses falling from his tongue as he fumbles the taps to turn on the water.

He glances up to find the shape of his mate in the doorway, their features shadowed by the busted light in the hall he’d been meaning to fix before they came over. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just me being a fuckin’ idiot.”

They take a step further into the room, their eyes focused on the bloody dishcloth, and they’re not saying anything, although they look - strange. Off. As if they’re feeling sick.

He sees it when their hands start to shake, their breaths coming fast and shallow, as if they can’t get enough air. The way their eyes lose focus, pupils dilating, even as their aura flickers, their silhouette going hazy around the edges.

“Sweetheart?” They’re still not saying anything, and unease stirs in his gut, prickling at his skin. It’s not like them to lose their words like that - they always had plenty to say. “Hey, you okay?”

“I-” And just like that they vanish, flickering out of existence as if they had never been there in the first place.

Fuck.

He can’t see them. Can’t feel them, the warmth of their presence, their scent. But he can still sense them in the room with him - feel the quiet flicker of their aura, subtle in the air but distinctive, if you know what you’re looking for.

And he’s familiar with that aura now, familiar with finding it in a way that’s becoming second nature to him, and he steps away from the sink, crossing over to where they had been standing, where he thinks he can feel them now.

If he concentrates hard enough, he can see the faint shimmer of their magic vibrating in the air, like heat from sun-baked tarmac. He pauses, squinting. “Sweetheart?”

Every instinct in him is screaming at him to do something, to fix this. But he’s not even sure what this is. He’s got an idea - his pop used to get like this after a bad night, frantic and non-verbal, disappearing into his office for hours until his ma could finally coax him out.

She was good at stuff like that. He - he wasn’t. He didn’t have her soft touch, her endless patience. Shit, he’d probably make things worse if he tried.

Panic squeezes at his throat like a vice, even as he tries to swallow it down. “Sweetheart, can ya - can ya talk to me?”

A flash, and their hand appears, reaching out to grasp his wrist, gripping tight. A rush of heat floods his hand, followed by a sharp pinch that makes him curse, before the ache in his palm recedes, the wound closing.

He flexes his fingers as they flicker back into view, their mouth pinched into a tight line, eyes still too big but focused as they stare down at his hand.

It’s still bloody, the skin of his palm freshly pink, but he can feel the way their fingers tremble around his wrist, and fuck, it must be the blood. Christ, Milo. You’re a fucking idiot.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he focuses on his core, weaving the pattern of a simple cleaning spell, his breath leaving him as the magic runs through his system. He flexes his fingers once it’s done, checking over the clean skin. “Shit. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

They still won’t speak, won’t look at him. Their hold on him is tight enough that he can feel their pulse through their fingertips, still too fast, and carefully, telegraphing his movements, he reaches out, guiding their face up to meet his. “Hey. You still with me?”

They take a breath, deep and gasping. “I-I’m sorry.”

“None of that. You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”

They finally look at him, their bright eyes wide, slightly dazed but calmer now, a little more like themself. It settles something in him, although it's not enough - he needs more, needs to know that they’re okay, feel them against him.

“Can I hold you?”

They melt into his arms, soft and warm and perfect, like they were made to fit against him like this, and fuck. He runs his fingers through their hair, pressing his face against their throat until he can breathe them in, deep.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re okay. Just- breathe.”

–

“So, it’s the blood?”

They release a low hum, sinking further into him where they’ve settled on the couch, his arms around them, their legs across his lap and their body tucked against his chest.

“Yeah. I saw you standing there, and I couldn’t-” Their voice cuts out as they swallow, taking a moment to catch their breath. He holds them through it. “It just hit me, all at once.”

This was new, then. They hadn’t reacted like this to the shade - or at least, he hadn’t seen it at the time. There was that period after the fight, when they’d met with the department, but considering they were at his place immediately after that, he didn’t think it did.

And they’d been working, then. If he can remember well enough the stuff that had happened with his pop, then things like this tended to happen in the aftermath of an event - hours, maybe even days, later.

The fucking department. His grip around them tightens as he grits his teeth, tamping down on the urge to growl. “You’ll tell me, if this happens again? If there’s anything I can do-”

“There isn’t.” They wince, as if their words came out sharper than they intended, and they shift in his arms to look up at him. “But I’ll tell you, if it happens again.”

They lay their head back down against his chest, right over his heart, their fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. He can feel the rhythm of their breath match up to his, easy and quiet, and he loves them. He loves them so fucking much in this moment, it makes his heart ache.

He’ll ask his ma about this, and maybe… maybe get in contact with his pop. They’re long overdue for a conversation, anyway.

[mmmoicca]

I keep forgetting that Sweetheart most likely met Gabe before he died.

That they were probably still in the process of getting to know the most important people in Milo's life at that point.

That the alpha of Milo's pack would probably be pretty high up there as someone they would meet early on.

That chances are they would've gotten to know David as one of Milo's close friends.

That they would've gotten to know David before he lost his dad.

That they had to see how much Gabe's death affected both David, but also the rest of the pack.

I keep forgetting they've kinda been there through a lot of the packs history at this point.

[twinkthrasher]

fuck Babe and Asher's canonical meeting they met on myspace way back when they were in highschool as cringe scenemo idiots... yeah.... totally....

[s0lairee]

"See You Later" and "Last Man In The World" by The Band CAMINO are Milo and Sweetheart coded

-from @redactedbloop

you're SO real for this + thank you for the song suggestions!!

[penncilkid]

Might fuck around and be silly*

*Make a new tag on my blog for my niche as fuck Redacted pairings

[darlin-collins]

ok what listener are we voting this year

[dominimoonbeam]

Practice Makes Perfect - 6

This started off as a smutty one shot and has absolutely turned into something else... Fic from the start on ao3.

David/Asher, Milo/Sweetheart, Huxley/Gavin, Darlin/?

tags: college au, roommate au, no magic au, firsts, confessions, misunderstandings, angst, smut, rivals to lovers, idiots in love, friends to lovers, smut

Practice Makes Perfect - 6

Asher woke up with an ache in his neck. He stretched and fell off the couch, landing with an oomph on the rug beside a coffee table. Before he could get out a swear, a soft chuckle rumbled through the room. The voice wasn’t unfamiliar, but he didn’t know who it was either.

“You alright?” that voice asked, still smiling.

Asher blinked, wincing at the morning light in the room and the light pulse of a hangover rattling around inside his skull when he sat up between the couch and the table.

“I’m sorry,” the voice drawled. “I didn’t mean ta wake you up, but I do have ta get to work.”

Asher looked up, that ache in his neck giving him another spike of pain. The stranger handed him a glass of water and he took it, the familiar ache jolting a memory of the night before. “Sam,” he croaked. He drained the glass. “What time is it?”

“’Bout eight.”

Asher winced.

Sam laughed again, clearly trying to keep his voice low in deference to his hangover.

Asher shook his head before his host could apologize again and got to his feet. “Fuck, thanks for letting me crash here. I promise I’m not usually this much of a mess.”

“Yer fine,” Sam assured. “Do you want some coffee or something to eat before we get goin?”

Asher smiled at that. Fuck this guy was so nice. “No, I’m good. But I got your number, right? I definitely owe you lunch after this.” He clawed at the back of his hair and looked around, making sure he had his phone. “Did I have a jacket?”

“You did not.”

Asher nodded.

Sam led him out of the apartment, locking up. It was early and the campus was quiet. They parted ways not far from Asher’s building and he made his way up alone, still tired and cold and definitely in need a shower and his toothbrush. His keys were still in his pocket and he unlocked the door, trying to be quiet because he definitely didn’t want to wake up David and his ex. Were they still his ex if they were hooking up again? Fuck. He didn’t want to think about that. He closed the door and toed off his shoes, heading for the hallway.

He was aiming for the bathroom, almost to the door when it opened and a plume of steam rolled out. Asher froze, suddenly more awake than he’d been all morning. His lungs filled with the scent of David’s bodywash but it wasn’t David who came out, rubbing a towel at their head. David’s shirt and sweats stuck to Darlin’s wet skin.

They blinked at each other.

It wasn’t the first time Darlin had showered at their place or worn their clothes. It also wouldn’t be the first time they spent the night with David.

Darlin smiled. “Where the fuck have you been?” They rubbed the towel at the side of their head.

Asher shrugged.

Darlin’s smile withered. “You feeling okay?”

“Hung over. I need a shower,” he said automatically, although suddenly he didn’t want to go in there. It smelled like David. Of course, it did. Everything here did.

Darlin nodded and took steps down the hall to give him access to the door.

Asher heard David’s bed creak in the other room and jolted forward, into the bathroom, snapping the door shut and locking it. He needed to get his shit together. He turned on the shower to buy time.

-

David woke up hearing Asher and Darlin in the hall outside his door but by the time he was out of bed with his door open, Ash was gone and the lock on the bathroom door sounded like an iron bar being thrown in place.

He exchanged a look with Darlin. They blinked at him and then said, “Are you making me breakfast before practice?”

David rolled his eyes. “Last time I did, you puked all over the field.”

“That wasn’t because of breakfast. That was because coach made me do sprints on a full stomach.”

“Do you even hear yourself?”

“What about something light? Like waffles?”

“Waffles are not light…”

“Asher likes waffles.”

David stared at Darlin, almost snapping something about how he knew what Asher liked. He’d been making food for him since they were teens. What he didn’t know, was why Darlin was bringing him up like that.

Darlin smirked, rubbing the towel at their hair again, and headed down the hall toward the kitchen. “I’m going to make coffee.”

“Don’t touch that machine,” David grumbled. “You broke the last one.”

-

Gavin woke up in a bed in the frat house with a goth, a band nerd, and a jock. It was a great set up for a joke and if his brain wasn’t throbbing against his skull, he probably would have come up with it. He peeled himself off of Vincent, gently rolling the band nerd into the space he’d left. Vincent hummed, wrapping arms around the nerd while the jock sleepily rubbed his hair, all of them drifting back into sleep after Gavin got out of bed. He rubbed at bleary eyes and looked for his clothes. He ended up in his pants but someone else’s t-shirt. He only had one boot and didn’t find the other until he’d given up and left, discovering it on the stairs.

The morning air was cold but he was grateful for that clean inhale. Gavin appreciated a lot of funks, smokey rooms, beer stink, and sex filled air. But his head hurt and he needed to clear it out.

To his surprise, as soon as it cleared, he was thinking about Huxley again. Had he really gone home alone last night? Had Gavin hurt his feelings? He didn’t even know what building Hux lived in… although there was one place a jock could always be found eventually…

-

David didn’t get a chance to talk to Asher before practice and there definitely wasn’t a chance during. It was a grueling morning. More than half the team had been at that party last night and was hung over. Five of them puked on the field but nothing stopped practice. They laughed at the ones that lost their stomach, calling for them to get up and keep going. No giving up. No staying down.

Arden had to pull Chrissy to his feet and push him back into pace.

It felt like the longest practice of his life, not because of the hangover, but because he needed to talk to Asher. He shouldn’t have waited all fucking night. He shouldn’t have kept his distance at the party. What was he thinking?

He was watching Ash, trying to get in step with him back to the locker rooms in the crowd of their team, when Milo nudged his shoulder. “So I heard you got back together with your ex.”

If David hadn’t been staring a hole in the back of Asher’s head, he wouldn’t have seen the way he tensed and jerked, looking back at them automatically before quickly snapping his focus forward again. Oh, for fucks sake. “I didn’t,” he told Milo. Really, he was telling Asher.

Milo huffed. “Good. I didn’t like that one.”

Christian laughed, still looking green but fighting it. “Yeah, David took Scarface home last night.”

Milo tripped Chrissy in one smooth motion and slid up to Darlin’s side, throwing an arm over their shoulders. “Much better choice,” he told David, even though he and everyone else knew that anything between David and Darlin had never been more than casual. Darlin did not do romantic relationships.

Darlin laughed. “I slept on the couch. The big guy wouldn’t even make me breakfast. No dick. No waffles. Fucking one star review all around.”

Their collective laughter echoed when they pushed into the locker rooms.

David knew Asher wouldn’t be able to escape him now. Their lockers were side by side. Just like they’d been since they were kids. David stopped paying attention to the usual banter and ruckus of the team around him. Asher was laughing and trying to take part if only to not meet David’s gaze while they all stripped down to shower, peeling off, the water echoing from the other room.

Asher tossed him a friendly smile, making eye contact for the first time since last night, tossing some of his sweaty clothes into a pile at his feet. He commented on some move David had done during practice. It was all painfully normal. Asher was throwing him a line out of their funk. He was offering him a do over. They’d done this a hundred times since they were kids. They’d get in fights or hurt each other’s feelings and then one of them would decide to let it go, to offer a line back to the way things were, and they’d take it and move on.

Asher was trying to fix the thing David had fucked up.

He could take it. He could go back and pretend Asher never spilled his guts and he didn’t fumble it like an asshole. They could be friends. Just friends. “I like you,” David said.

Asher stared and then forced one of those goofy smiles. “Yeah. I like you too,” he said, the words catching for the first time ever like it was hard to say, like it wasn’t exactly true anymore, like he was forcing his best friend into a lie. Asher laughed instead and grabbed a clean towel, turning to go find a free shower stall.

David caught his arm and gently held on. “Yesterday—”

Asher swung around, eyes big and flicking to the sides at the other people around them, still talking and laughing, for the moment unaware of this exchange. His gaze was asking if David had lost his mind. He was about to open something that couldn’t be closed again.

But David was terrified of letting it close—of taking that seemingly easy out now and not being able to go back. If he let Asher cram his feelings down and pretend they were just friends again, he might never be able to fix that pain. “You’re my best friend,” he said.

A few people noticed now, huffing little laughs at the sentimentality in those strangely stern words.

Asher nodded quickly, eyes glassing over and darting around still. David still had him by the arm and Asher was seconds from breaking loose and bolting for the showers. “Yeah. And you’re mine, big guy. Always.”

David slid his hand from where he’d grabbed Asher’s elbow down to his wrist and then gently to his hand. People were looking now, going quiet, not sure if this was some sort of involved theatrical joke being performed for them or if they were spying on a moment.

Asher turned shades of pink and red. “What… Dude…”

David was a private person. He did not like people watching him like this. But he wasn’t afraid of that discomfort either. It definitely wasn’t worse than the idea of letting Asher think he didn’t reciprocate his feelings or that they were going back to the way things used to be. He rubbed his thumb across the back of Asher’s knuckles. “I’m sorry. I was surprised, but I wasn’t… I like you, Ash.”

Johnny snorted. “Jesus. Are you going to fucking propose?”

“Oh yeah!” Milo burst, coming out of nowhere. “I almost forgot!” He threw the ball of his sweaty practice uniform at Johnny, triggering a team wide reaction of cheers and hurling dirty clothes at their teammate. “You were late to practice, asshole. Have fun on laundry duty!”

-

Huxley laughed, flashing Milo a grin and a nod at how quickly he defused Johnny.

He headed to the showers, glad to see that whatever was going on between Asher and David seemed to be going well. They were nice guys and they’d both been pretty upset last night, even if they’d both been pretending not to be.

He was never really sure what to do about people pretending they were okay when they weren’t. He wanted to offer a sounding board or a pick me up, but he couldn’t really if his friends said they were fine. Was he supposed to pretend he didn’t notice? Were they really friends?

“Did you really leave the party just to give that nerd a ride home last night?” Christian said to Milo, his voice echoing off the tile walls when he walked into the showers.

Milo raised an eyebrow, taking a stall next to Huxley. “No, I left because I was sick of watching you try to dance. Giving that genius a ride home was just a happy coincidence.”

Huxley smiled and hit the water. He liked the way Milo talked, and the way he seemed to be always looking out for everyone else.

“Milo has a crush!” Christian jeered loudly for the team filling the room.

It was meant to make Milo defensive and embarrassed. It was the sort of jabbing and talk that would usually make Huxley uncomfortable but after just a few months he already knew how this conversation was going to go.

Milo nodded from his shower stall, like it was a serious point being made. “Definitely.”

A collective laugh echoed in the room against the sprays of water.

“It’s not news, Chrissy,” Miguel added from across the room.

The team descended into speculations about how long exactly Milo had been crushing on his academic rival and their standing bets on whether or not he stood any chance at all. It seemed to be common knowledge that his crush hated him, something that Milo didn’t seem exactly worried about.

Huxley thought the whole thing sounded funny. It was hard to imagine anyone hating Milo.

Eventually Hux dried-off, dressed, and headed out. He wished he’d said something more. His teammates were funny but somehow he always felt like he was missing his chance to connect to them. He just smiled and nodded along the sidelines before leaving. He was a part of them…but was he? Damn.

He was only a few steps out of the building and onto one of the campus paths when he noticed a familiar face. The guy from last night… Gavin, was sitting on a picnic table under the nearest tree, nursing an energy drink.

Huxley missed a step before continuing, mind racing. What was he doing over here this early? Should Huxley nod and say good morning? Or was that awkward now?

Gavin grinned when he saw him and hopped off the picnic table, walking right toward him.

Huxley blinked, surprised. Things hadn’t exactly ended well last night…

“Hey,” Gavin said.

Huxley stopped in front of him. “Morning.”

Gavin jolted a little like that reminded him. He reached into his back and pulled out another slender can, offering it. “I caught the end of your training… I gotta say, I like watching you guys run drills more than I like watching the actual games. But then again, I’ve always liked a good drilling more than playing games.”

Huxley accepted the can being handed to him automatically, Gavin’s smooth voice and confidence rolling over him. A prickle ran his spine, excited and disappointed when he realized Gavin was flirting. “Thanks…” he said, not sure himself if he was offering gratitude for the drink or the comment, both felt a little hollow. Behind him, he heard more of the team heading out of the gymnasium. He relaxed a fraction, realizing that Gavin was waiting for someone else. “Uh… I should be…” he floundered, stepping to the side to continue on the path, but Gavin pivoted to stay facing him. His expression rippled, breaking from that charming confidence. “I’m sorry, dude, I’m really hungry. I gotta—”

“I could find you something to eat…” Gavin said, grinning and not so subtly poking a tongue at the corner of his lips.

Huxley felt heat flush his face. His dick twitched but he huffed a laugh and took another step away.

“Are you seeing someone?” Gavin asked, seeming to surprise even himself with the question.

Huxley scratched the back of his head. Seeing someone? Like dating someone? Had he ever? “Oh. Um. No.”

Gavin nodded, smiling for a second, almost relieved and then not, that confusion creasing his brow again. He didn’t look like someone who was usually confused.

“Huxley!” Asher called from a group of voices. “There you are! Fuck, you left in a hurry.” He came up behind him and then stopped, surprised to see Gavin. “Hey, Gav. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up this early…”

Gavin grinned, any confusion or uncertainty about him gone. “Oh, I think you have…”

Asher smiled bigger, leaning up onto his toes to throw an arm over Huxley’s shoulders. “We’re going to get breakfast. You coming with, Hux? I’m trying to get a pancake eating contest going.” He nudged his chin at Gavin. “You want to come too, Gav?”

Huxley was already being turned toward the parking lot by Asher. Milo and David were in some sort of debate, Darlin in stitches beside them.

He noticed Gavin hadn’t said anything and glanced over to catch his gaze, realizing that he was watching him. Again, Gavin looked like he’d been put on the back foot and wasn’t at all used to that. “Do you mind?” he asked.

The group had already spotted Gavin and were calling him to join.

Huxley felt heat rush his face. Why would Gavin ask him? “Of course not, dude.”

“Gav!” Milo called, waving his extra helmet to him.

Gavin perked up and finished his energy drink, tossing it into the recycle on his way to the motorcycle.

[ejunkiet]

for the fic writer game, 15 (rec a fic you wrote/posted in 2023) or 18 (what was the hardest wip to title) perhaps? or both if you want ^^

from fic writers asks 2023!

>:3 THANK YOU (your milo/sh fics have been giving me LIFE <3)

15. Rec a fic you wrote/posted in 2023

I LOVE THIS QUESTION, and I have an easy answer - the milo/sweetheart first time fic, set immediately after 'Tending to a Feisty Flirty werewolf's injuries':

bad idea right? (nsfw)

His dark eyes find theirs, and there’s that glimmer of gold again, reflecting the light. A flash of eyeshine, reminding them of what lies beneath, the wolf. “What’re you gonna do with me now, investigator?”

This fic has everything I love about them: the banter, milo being a gentleman, the tension that sizzles between them. it's also unapologetically horny, which is my favourite thing. explicit consent!!!

i'm an ace writer, and this has all my favourite things in smut <3

18. What was the hardest wip to title?

GOD. I am the WORST with titles, which is why I refer to songs a lot of the time adhfksg I'm going to have to cheat and say ALL of the fics that reference a song, including 'the wild interior', which is a lyric from the shearwater song 'animal life' (this is a banger).

[thestubbornking]

... crack baby, you don’t know what you want.

[milogreer]

sweetheart who dresses goth/emo and looks intimidating to people who don’t know them even though they have a huge heart and would probably climb a tree to rescue a cat >>>

[soup-scope]

do you think imp!angel smiled as they were executed

[capitalisticveins]

I still can’t believe Milo and Sweetheart won March Redactedness, that was a fucking power couple move and I thank everyone for making it happen

[agentplutonium]

Thinking about Sweetheart who can’t fall asleep all to easily and Milo who has learned all the tricks to do put them to sleep. They’d be up late into the night, trying not to disturb Milo, mind still racing. When he does wake up (because he will wake up, Milo has a knack for knowing when something is up with his mate) he doesn’t usually call it out to hard. He would simply ask if they’re having a hard time sleeping. The spoken answer varies but Milo knows the real answer. He wouldn’t tell them that they should try to sleep, this will only heighten their need to stay awake. Instead, he pulls them close, letting them rest their head on him. They usually accept this fate because it meant that he was going to go back to sleep (they hated being an inconvenience to him, even if they could never be such a thing). However, it was all part of the ploy. He’d have them positioned so that they’d be able to hear his heartbeat and feel his breathing, something that he learned unknowingly persuaded them to copy him, which in turned calm them down. He’d run a hand along any skin he could reach (usually their back or arm) which brought their attention to something else other than what was on their mind. It didn’t keep their attention long, but it was long enough. If he stayed quiet enough, and still enough, they’d fall asleep before him and he wouldn’t worry about them staying up all night. However sometimes he slipped back under before they did, but he was always assured that they did sleep some like that. These methods wouldn’t always work but it was the best shot Milo had at helping while he was still half asleep.

[plaqying]

going on an airplane soon i am scared AF