Word Count: 1044
Summary: Milos is feeling neglected in the aftermath of the Scottish assignment, but Alex has ways of making up for it.
The Gillie Dhu turned out to be an administrative nightmare. There had to be someone up in the Highlands who could take responsibility for the rabid little sod, but if there was Alex had yet to find them.
The Gillie Dhu turned out to be an administrative nightmare. There had to be someone up in the Highlands who could take responsibility for the rabid little sod, but if there was Alex had yet to find them. That in itself had to be a miracle—Milos thought he’d never see the day Alex failed to locate anything—and in turn that one lack of legal guardianship had summarily thwarted all of Research’s plans for the halvalfa.
Milos couldn’t say he wasn’t relieved. The idea of the third successful bioweapon being the short kid who’d sunk his teeth into Milos’s arm, of being forced to work with him, was the least appealing thing he’d ever considered. And hell, anything that made his relationship with Alex seem sensible had to be bad.
On that subject...
He’d seen people scurrying from their office, folders clutched to their chests and faces pale, and knew exactly what had happened. There was enough paperwork associated with this particular case that it had rapidly moved to take up its own filing cabinet, and Alex was right in the thick of it. Those unfortunate enough to be caught at the short end of his already miniscule temper probably thought that the stress was making him even worse than usual; they were completely wrong. Alex was in his element. There was nothing he loved more than his files.
Unfortunately, mountains of paperwork in the office left no room for Milos. Considering the way Alex bit the head off anyone who even breathed funny right now it was probably for the best, but it didn’t stop him from wishing he could be ofsome use. He flitted from Adult Education, starting a worrying new trend of handing his homework in on time since he no longer forgot to bring it with him in his desperation to avoid being late, to Training where he got seven shades kicked out of him by an instructor who revelled in the extra time they could spend working on his nonexistent skills. There was even enough time to spend swimming lengths in work’s beautiful heated pool. He was busy, sure. It just didn’t stop it from being weirdly lonely.
Who knew that a lack of Alex could make it worse? But he’d been busy like this for a week now and even as Milos stuck his head around the door he knew what the answer would be. “I’ll be late,” Alex muttered around the pen he was chewing on as he rifled through the top file in a stack that would have lesser mortals quivering. “Don’t bother waiting.”
Right. Much the same as the previous seven evenings, then. “Have fun,” he said and, for the first time in seven nights, Alex flashed him a tight, tired smile.
Maybe the wonder wasn’t that Alex loved the paperwork, but that he hadn’t dropped dead of exhaustion years ago.
* * *
His apartment seemed more spacious without an arrogant human in it, but that did as much to make Milos feel better as having spare time at work did. The arrogant human gave him more to do, or at least made enough noise criticising his cooking to make it feel like it; without him, it was just mechanically eating something frozen and easy to heat, then stripping down to his bare skin to slide into his freezing bed. The middle of summer and his apartment still felt glacial, with no Alex to keep him warm. Sleep claimed him eventually, but not before he’d shivered fit to lose the last of the calories he’d consumed that evening.
The skritching sound clawed at his sleeping mind; he was awake before he was even fully aware of it, blinking blearily at the darkness and not quite sure why there seemed to be three quarters of a rectangle of light where he was sure he’d left the apartment’s door. Then it was gone, and in its wake was a subtle scent of aftershave he could place, he was sure, but maybe only when he was awake.
He wasn’t alone.
The realisation jolted terror through him. He lurched into a sitting position, quilt pressed futilely to his groin—as a soft chuckle filled the darkness. “You’re worried about preserving your modesty now?”
Relaxation flooded through him. Alex. Sneaky bastard. Milos flopped back against his pillow with a groan, pressing the crook of his arm to his eyes. “What’re you doing? You should be asleep.”
A gentle rustling told him without needing to look that Alex was shedding his clothes. Good, at the very least he could keep Milos warm. The bed dipped. Any second now--
Cold air blasted along his legs as the lower half of the quilt suddenly rose. “What the hell—?!”
Insistent fingers pressed against his inner thighs, forcing them apart.
“For fuck’s sake, Alex,” he snapped, trying to squirm upwards, “what’re you—”
An iron grip wrapped around one thigh, pinning him in place. At the same heart-stopping moment, a warm mouth wrapped around his soft cock and ran its tongue along his shaft.
Milos shoved the quilt off them entirely. It fell onto the floor; he didn’t care. Between his legs and outlined in streetlight orange, Alex smiled up at him, mouth full of Milos’s dick.
Funny. All these years, everything he’d done, and no one had ever done this for him.
“Lay back and shut up,” Alex said calmly, and without the warmth of his mouth Milos’s cock felt suddenly abandoned and, just to add insult to injury, suddenly incredibly sensitive.
“Have you even...?” Stupid question. Of course Alex hadn’t.
An assumption borne out by Alex’s snort of amusement. “There is such a thing as the internet, you know, and if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s research.” Without waiting for the inevitable objection, he resumed his attentions.
And if there was one thing Milos knew Alex was good at, it was transferring research into useable skills. At least, he had to be, because against all odds this felt good... Legs over Alex’s back, fingers sinking into his pillow in a futile effort to distract himself from the noises rising in his chest, Milos couldn’t help thinking that if this was his reward for patience, the surfeit of work was worth it.