Rating: NC-17
Author: Trekker
Pairing:Milo/Adrian
Fandom: Heroes RPS
Spoilers: None
Milo leans back against the counter of the kitchenette in his trailer, trapped in the cage of Adrian's arms braced around him as Adrian whispers, "You. Are. Amazing." He punctuates the each word with a kiss to Milo's face, anywhere Milo lets him: his cheek, his brow, his nose, his jaw. He takes what Milo gives him. Anything. Everything. It's all good, he loves it, even if it's just a smirk or an eyeroll. Anything, even being gently pushed away with a quiet admonition.
But today... today, Milo doesn't push him away. Today, he whispers those perfect words, not said nearly often enough: "Don't stop. Ah. Adrian, don't stop."
Mi's tired and frustrated. Today he's spent too long filming another of Peter's mistakes, and Adrian loves that for all he complains, Milo cares about saving their fictional world.
But more, he loves that hitch of Milo's hips under his, and the hardness it betrays in Milo's jeans. Yeah. That. Oh, this. Yes.
"Perfect. Beautiful. God, you're so beautiful it kills me." He presses into normally-forbidden territory, licking Milo's neck before finally letting himself kiss his lips. Soft and teasing, because he loves the way that makes Milo growl in frustration and grab the back of his neck, pulling him down and pressing up and kissing him so hard their teeth clack. Yes. Milo's tongue pushes into his mouth and he lets it, lets him possess him, lets him penetrate him. Milo licks the backs of Adrian's front teeth, licks up under his tongue, still pinning him in place with that hard grip at the base of his skull. Adrian can only shiver and let him and luxuriate in this undeniable proof that this perfect man, this angel, wants Adrian as much as Adrian wants him.
They're both panting by the time Milo lets his mouth go, still holding him, staring into his eyes with pupils blown wide, mouth open, crooked lip. Adrian nips that part of his lip, then catches it in his teeth, pressing gently. When he lets go, Milo says, half-disgruntled and half-amused, "I can't feel that, you know."
"But it's so cute," Adrian says, smiling, eyes wide.
Milo chuckles and takes Adrian's left hand in his, rubbing his thumb up Adrian's mangled one, over the smooth scar and the half-nail. "Hypocrit," he murmurs when Adrian pouts.
Then he pushes Adrian back, but not in the bad way; he stays with him the whole time, hands on his shoulders. "I wanna fuck you," he says.
"Anytime, anywhere, any way," Adrian breathes through the dizzy rush of arousal and excitement. He always wants this. Just seeing Milo walk in a room can get him hard. Hearing him say those words in that low growl makes him crazy. A little confused, disoriented. He needs Milo's hands on his shoulders to keep him upright and Milo's gasps against his ears to remind him to breathe.
"Right now, right there," Milo points to the bed, "Really hard."
"yeahokay."
Milo's already unbuttoning Adrian's shirt, one-handed because his other hand is back around Adrian's neck, holding him still as he kisses his mouth again, licking at his lips and sucking on his tongue. It's all Adrian can do to hold onto his hips and steady himself, especially once his shirt's undone and Milo's hand slides inside it, around his flank, pressing firmly against his bare skin, just touching him.
He shuts his eyes and drops his head back, leaving Milo mouthing his throat. He could come. His body's one tight cord, ready to snap, just from that mouth on his pulse point and that hand on his side. No one else. No one else has ever done quite this to him, made him feel like this: fragile glass a heartbeat from shattering.
Milo pushes his shirt off and lets it fall. "Ah, God, Adrian. So hot. You are so fucking hot." Hands on his chest, pushing up, curling around his neck, pressing into the muscle of his shoulders. He looks down into Milo's lust-darkened eyes and sees something wild and almost angry there. It doesn't frighten him. It excites him.
He watches that spark sharpen as he reaches down and wraps his hands around Milo's ass and grips tight, yanking their hips together and just feeling that perfect, firm curve of muscle under the black denim.
"Strip me," Milo says. It's an order.
Adrian peels off Milo's shirt as quickly as if the command had gone straight from Milo's brain to his hands. He falters there, though, taken by all that skin and muscles, smooth and strong. He catches Milo's right arm before he can drop it down and presses his face into his armpit, twisting his head to find that hidden star with his mouth and suck on it. Milo smells like spice and musk here, something expensive, no doubt, with a name anyone who's anyone would know on the bottle. Doesn't matter. Adrian prefers the hint of Milo's sweat to the designer fragrance.
"Mmph." Milo pushes down on his shoulders and Adrian drops to his knees. The carpet in Mi's trailer is cushioned and real wool, no trailer-park acrylic for him. Adrian rubs his face where they both want it, against the bulge in Milo's pants, even as he reaches up and undoes the button. He only moves away long enough to unzip the fly and pull down Milo's jeans and briefs, and then he's back, cupping Milo's balls and licking up his smooth, slim cock.
"Fuck."
As the round head of his cock slips into his mouth, Adrian feels something like Nirvana. He loves the sound Milo makes when he sucks gently.
When he turns his eyes to look up, Milo is looking down, watching him dazedly.
Adrian lets his cock slide out of his mouth and leans against his legs, gazing up. "Fuck me?"
"Yeah. Hell, yeah. Take your pants off."
"Why do I have to do all the work?" Adrian mock-grumbles as he stands and unbuttons and unzips.
Milo just rolls his eyes--a funny thing when he's naked and hard--and says, "In a minute, I'll be doing all the work, Ms. Pretty, Pretty Princess."
Adrian strips the rest of his clothes off and watches Milo's naked ass sway as he swaggers to the bed.
It's almost a double bed, built sideways into the back of the trailer. Most of the cast have piles of old screenplays and sides and clothes and other detritus piled on theirs, but Milo keeps his whole trailer, bed included, rather freakishly neat. The bed even has real sheets, which Milo pulls back before climbing on it and kneeling with his back to the blacked-out and covered window.
Adrian climbs on and stretches out, lying on his side along the edge of the bed. These sheets, like the carpet, are soft. Milo smiles down at him and brushes back Adrian's bangs, runs his fingers through his hair. Adrian tilts his head into the caress, and misses seeing Milo lie down alongside of him. They lie together for a while, chest to chest, touching and stroking everywhere they can reach, watching each other's eyes. They can talk for hours, but right now, they don't need to talk at all.
Not until Milo scootches back against the wall, giving Adrian room as he says, "Lie back?"
Then Milo's reaching over him, getting a condom and a bottle of lube from the shelf.
Adrian loves his family, he would never leave them, and he wants Milo to have that kind of joy in his life, too... but at moments like these, somehow that small ring of latex is a harsh reminder that there are other people in both of their lives. He glances away as Milo reaches down to roll it on.
Milo draws his attention back with a light kiss to his shoulder. There's no accusation in his eyes now.
Once in a horrible while, it's the one thing they fight about, even though neither of them can win. But not now.
Adrian bends his knees and Milo settles between them. Adrian feels it like the click of a magnet to metal. Meant to be. Irresistible attraction.
"Are you ready?" Milo says. "Or do you need--"
"Ready." Now. Please. Need you.
Slick cock, pressure, and then that's it. Milo sighs and Adrian moans and they're together. Finally almost close enough, as Milo drapes himself over Adrian and begins to rock his hips slow and long, tender love-making belying his early erotic threat. Sweat between their chests, bonding them. Milo's cheek against his, rough with show-requisite stubble, catching on Adrian's and scratching his jaw, and oh, oh, yes. Slow but deep, every time pushing as far in as he can, and it almost hurts, but it doesn't, it just feels intense, makes Adrian's toes curl.
"Love the way you feel," Milo murmurs, right into Adrian's ear. "So tight."
"Just you," Adrian says, even though Milo knows it. He likes to hear it. Adrian likes to say it. "No one else, Mi. Just you."
"Ye-ah," Milo whispers, shaking. He pauses at the bottom of his thrust, holding himself deep, pressed against something inside Adrian that aches beautifully but sharply, making him groan in pleasure-pain and arc up against Milo's weight.
"Love you," Adrian gasps as Milo eases back, sending shocks of relief and disappointment up his spine.
He always cracks first. Always says it before Milo. It doesn't bother him, it's just a fact.
Milo's pace picks up, his expression tight and intent. He sucks his stomach in and says, "Masturbate."
Instantly, Adrian reaches down into the space Milo's given him, grabbing himself and trying to keep pace with Milo's hips. For awhile there's nothing but the rasp of their breathing and the slap of skin-on-skin. Sweat breaks out across Milo's furrowed brow, and Adrian can feel something winding tighter inside him as he watches Milo slowly come apart, break down. So calm, so cool, but right now, he's gasping, open-mouthed, staring down with half-blind eyes, so close to coming Adrian can almost feel it.
He loves this moment, when Milo whimpers and shivers and hammers into him and then...
"Oh. Oh. God. Adrian. Ade. Yeah--yeeeeah... Ah, God, I love you. I love you so much."
Just that, just those words and the pulse of Milo's cock coming inside of him are enough to shove him hard over the edge, leave him falling. Flying. Coming.
Perfect.
The End
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