Milo Next - Post Chapter Two (Patreon)

A/N: This is what takes place if you were one of the ones who went down the alley towards the Pleasure District with Milo, and found yourself locking lips with him. Enjoy!

Hands in his pockets and an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, Milo walked down the street, kicking at his own heels as he placed one foot in front of the other.  He had left the Pleasure District only in the sense that he was no longer under the sway of those velvety pink lanterns.  But there was a little side street, one in a makeshift alley just to the right, that he liked to visit from time to time. It was less ostentatious. Less about sex and pleasure. More about a particular other itch that needed to get scratched.

Yivi sold the best seared mushrooms in all the Market. She was a retired courtesan that had never quite moved away from the quarter, but had instead continued to offer pleasure for a price with sautéed mushrooms and dipping sauces that Milo swore were other worldly. Given that he was almost positive she was not from here, he assumed that was pretty close to the truth.

When he approached the stand, she eyed him carefully. She was still a looker. Old age not claiming her like it had some others.  Milo had been tempted from time to time to ask for her services when she had still worked in the district proper.  But, he was also terrified of being bossed around. And boy would he succumb to a woman like her. Strong and firm with a no nonsense attitude? Yes please!

Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on her smooth cheek, placing a stack of bits down on the counter.

“Don’t you dare think of lighting that cigarette, Milo,” Yivi scolded.

“You know I quit, Yivi. Just a nervous tick by now.”

She nodded her head towards the Pleasure District. “And that? You fornicating in there as another nervous tick?”

Milo laughed. “Nah. Just dropped off a friend. Waiting for them to be done with the illustrious Belladonna, then I’ll pick them back up.”

Yivi raised a brow towards them. “Why are your lips puffy, boy?”

Milo paused. Because the searing reminder of another person lips pressed tightly to his own was still evident against him. The way his heart had skipped over something so unbelievably simple, the heat rushing through him in a way that demanded that he ask for more more more.

Milo shrugged. “Allergies.”

“Bullshit, allergies,” Yivi muttered. She put a mushroom kebab in front of him with a sauce of basil aioli and sriracha for him to dip it all in.  “You seeing someone new finally?”

Milo looked down, a bitter twist to his smile. Wouldn’t that be a concept. A surprise for Hazel, that was for sure.  Seeing someone new.  It was laughable, really. “Nah. It was just the Ambrosia, Yivi. They didn’t know what they were doing.”

She scooted another kebab in front of him. “You and I both know Ambrosia doesn’t work that way.”

“Then it was a kiss that was a mistaken form of passion. I am quite charming and kissable, you know.”

“You are,” Yivi agreed. “So when are you going to start believing you deserve a bit more than a one-night stand and a throng of people who you keep at arms length?”

Popping a mushroom in his mouth, Milo chewed thoughtfully, trying not to let the hurt show on his face. “When are you going to give up your life of decadence and marry me, Yivi?”

She hit the kebab from his hand, sending it flying.  Milo pouted at her, but slumped in his seat a bit. Yivi did not back down with her piercing stare, her blue grey eyes pinning him to the spot.  She had made those fresh and her look was clear. She was disappointed she had to make a point by tossing it all in the garbage to highlight how much she was not joking around.

“You can fool everyone else, boy. But don’t sit here and use your broken heart as a character charm. I’m too old and have seen what it does to people too often.”

Milo ducked his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Taking out another few bits, he put it on the table, silently asking Yivi for more. With a glare, she turned, beginning another batch.

It wasn’t that it was a bad kiss. Far from it, in fact. It was the perfect amount of pressure, and the feel of another body against his own was one he sorely missed. But Milo had made a point over the years. Don’t get too close. Keep them all at a distance.  The hurt that came with losing someone was too much. The only person he ever opened his heart to anymore was Hazel, and only because he was certain she was the only one who understood the depth of it all.

But still…

Milo had had a lot of pleasure through the years.  Had been with many people. Had gotten on his knees for some, had guiding them across his lap for others.  He had been with both men and women and had twisted himself up in every position possible, riding the crest of passion high and fast.  And at the end of it all, he had always felt hollow. Empty somehow.

Then that kiss.

One stupid single kiss.

He found himself touching his lips and looking towards the soft pink lights of the district beyond.

“I’m not cooking you another plate, so stop saying stupid shit,” Yivi rasped at him, slamming a fresh platter down in front of him.  She was glaring at him when he finally pulled his attention to her. And just like that, the warm and patented smile of Milo Next was back in place.

It was just a kiss.

Forgettable even.

But as he popped another mushroom in his mouth and began gossiping with Yivi and the few patrons that sat at her booth, his eyes kept ticking towards the district beyond.  It wouldn’t hurt to stick around and wait for them. Be there when they left their meeting with Belladonna.

It was, after all, the gentlemanly thing to do.