Page 67 of Shifter Omegaverse AU

Because, oh boy, was he putting them off. Maybe that was what this steamy feeling was. Milo could almost feel it on their skin.

Their pony mimed rubbing their face against Rowan, and Milo groaned. “While that was absolutely, unbelievably amazing—like seriously, best kisses ever—if there’s any hope for us watching a movie or doing anything else tonight, we might need to stop.”

Rowan hummed softly. “Is that what you want? To relax and watch a movie?”

Milo cracked one eye open. “Maybe with a few kisses here and there, too?”

As if to test them, Rowan slowly licked his bottom lip, and heat shot down into Milo’s groin again.

“Gods, okay, maybe no kisses. I don’t know how much more I can take,” Milo admitted.

Rowan turned his head away. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m quite ready to jump into bed with you. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

The fire raging through Milo dimmed, and they took in a sharp breath through their nose to try and snuff it out entirely. “You didn’t lead me anywhere I didn’t want to go. I am perfectly happy to spend a relaxing evening with you. I just…”

Milo considered keeping the next part to themself, but they were dating now. They could be honest about this sort of thing, right?

“I sort of feel like I need to go rub one out real quick so I don’t get too excited again.”

Rowan collapsed heavily against the back of the couch. His eyes shamelessly roved up and down Milo’s body, settling on where their hand was still firmly pressed against themself. “You…could.”

Milo blinked at him.

“I mean, you could, uhm, get yourself off,” Rowan said.

The dimple that appeared in his cheek was probably the deepest one yet.

“Uh, well, I live in a studio,” Milo said, stating the obvious. “The only private space is the bathroom, and it isn’t really soundproof. I have a white noise machine for guests, but you sort of have to also use your imagination a bit or put the TV on really loud.”

For some reason, Rowan’s eyes flashed yellow again. “If you wanted to… I am your boyfriend. If it’s not too weird, I’d be more than happy to watch?”

Rowan grimaced as if he was as shocked by that little request as Milo was.

It’s not like Milo hadn’t thought about it. They’d thought about a lot of things when it came to Rowan, but all of them had been forbidden fantasies they only let themself have in the moments right before they got themself off or fell asleep.

“Are you sure? I promise, I can just get over it or whatever.”

Rowan’s eyebrow rose as he pointedly looked down at Milo’s lap again.

Well, you know what they say. Don’t look a gift hawk in the mouth.

“Okay, no, you’re right. This is a much better plan,” Milo said, jumping to their feet despite not really having even the semblance of a plan.

It might be a little too close for comfort if Milo just lifted their dress and began getting off on their couch. Their bed was the obvious next choice, but the only other seat they had in their room was their “junk chair,” which currently housed all of Anabelle’s clothes that didn’t fit in their closet. The last time they’d counted, it had been around nineteen shirts, twelve pairs of pants, and thirty to forty accessories.

Not one to be easily deterred, Milo grabbed the tall chair they’d been sitting on for their interrogation—er, chat—with Ray and Ruben and dragged it into their bedroom.

Rowan hadn’t gotten up to follow, so when Milo got the chair set up in the doorway, they turned to Rowan and made a flourishing gesture at it. “Your throne, my liege.”

That small smile appeared again, and Rowan stood up, slowly moving towards Milo like he was stalking prey.

Milo’s pony started all-out galloping around in wider and wider circles until it threatened to make Milo dizzy. They spun in the same direction as their pony, their skirt twirling out around their thighs before they collapsed backward onto their bed. Rowan silently sat down on the chair, one foot planted on the ground with the other on the footrest.

“Uh, so, I’ve never done this before,” Milo said, spreading their legs a little, just to watch the way Rowan’s eyes tracked the movement. “Do you want to talk to me? Or should I talk to you? I usually just sort of moan a lot and, uh, sometimes say your name.”

The mild embarrassment at that admission did nothing to lessen the heat growing in their belly. They cupped themself with one hand, and Rowan’s eyes bled fully yellow.

“You say my name?”