ew Years was spent with the Patels, a bottle of champaign, homemade potstickers, and the Super Bowl. Lee and Rushil fell asleep on the couch shortly after the New Years' ball dropped and when Lee woke up in the middle of the night, Rushil's mom had strewn a blanket over him and propped up the foot rest for him. Lee nestled in with a smile, warm and cozy, and oh-so relieved.

Rushil drove Lee to the Greyhound stop that next morning. They weren't hungover, by any means, but they both knew that at this hour of the morning, the entirity of Sigma was probably a shitshow. The guys were due to arrive in San Francisco before the ball drop, which meant that a New Years party was bound to roar into the wee hours of the morning.

Rushil yawned as he parked the car outside of the station and turned to Lee. "I can't believe Milo agreed to an arrival time before noon."

"You and I both know he's going to wake the fuck up and down three shots of espresso," Lee said as he propped open the door. He dragged his duffle out of the back with a huff and a sigh, swinging it over his shoulder. He leant back in to look at Rushil, who had his head tipped back against the headrest, smiling at Lee. "What?"

"Nothing. You're just my entertainment for the year, is all," he said.

Lee rolled. "Glad I could stir up some drama for you."

"It was worth it," Rushil said. "Now I know how to torment Milo to get him to do what I want."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Lee laughed.

Rushil leant over with a maniacal grin and said, "Tell you to cockblock him."

Lee shoved his hand in Rushil's face and pushed him away. They were both laughing, though, and Lee's cheeks hurt from smiling so wide—and also, maybe, from the sunburn. "Bye, Rushil. And thanks for letting me stick around for so long."

"Hey, you should come for Spring Break! My parents love you," he said. Lee agreed to it before shutting the door and stepping back. He waved as Rushil pulled away from the curb and down the road.

On the three hour trip north, Lee stuck his earbuds in and slept. When he awoke in San Francisco, he felt momentarily groggy and disoriented, but that promptly vanished when he recognized the campus in the far distance stretched along one of the river channels. Lee straightened in his seat as the bus pulled into the San Francisco facility and, excitement buzzing like electricity in his chest, looked for Milo around the facility.

The bus came to a stop and Lee was one of the first to emerge. The air was colder and lighter here, latent with moisture from the fog that rolled in from the ocean. Lee let out a shuddering breath as he looked down the stretch of bus stops before crossing the street to the building.

The station was small, all things considered. The parking lot, however, was wide and housed two strips of docking stations. Lee padded across the pavement, his heart thrumming in his throat as he searched for Milo Park's head of fluffy black hair among the few occupied benches outside of the station.

And then, he saw someone rise from the end of the sidewalk.

"Milo?" Lee said. Even if he said it quietly, it carried.

Sure enough, it was Milo-fucking-Park, the freshmen running back on the winning Top Ten team, and he was vaulting over the bench and sprinting to where Lee didn't even bother moving. He dropped his duffle so that when Milo came skidding up, there was nothing holding him back from throwing his arms around Milo's torso and sweeping with the momentum that sent them spinning around. Milo's feet left the ground and skidded for purchase as their circle came to a quick stop.

Milo's hair tickled Lee's cheek. He squeezed Milo tightly around the waist, his eyes shut as he breathed in the smell of Milo's sweet, citrus cologne. Neither of them said anything, and the strangeness of it—of Milo's sudden muteness and Lee's inability to speak—had Lee's grip tightening further. Likewise, Milo held on tight and fast, his face tucked against Lee's neck and the arms he wrapped around it.

A few moments passed before Lee slackened his grip. He dropped his hands to Milo's waist, but when Milo didn't move, Lee stayed still. He rubbed his fingers over Milo's hips, soothingly, and took another deep breath of Milo's signature scent. "Hey, I'm back."

"H-Hey," Milo said, and Lee's breath caught in his throat at the hitch on Milo's voice.

Lee pulled back, forcing Milo's arms to loosen as he said, "Are you—? Are you crying?"

Milo dropped his head and rubbed his arm over his eyes. "No," he sniffed. "I just really missed you. Cut me some slack."

Lee would have laughed if Milo didn't look so pathetic wiping tears from his eyes. Lee leant over and pressed his lips to Milo's forehead before reeling him over to the station door. He picked up his duffle on the way to the restroom, tugging Milo along with a hand firmly clasped onto his fingers. He dropped his duffle against the wall next to the restroom sinks so he could yank a few towels from the dispenser for Milo. Even after blowing his nose, Milo's breath was still irregular and he still looked so pathetic that Lee couldn't help it.

He reeled Milo in for another hug. He put his arms around Milo's neck as Milo clutched at the front of his sweater, his breath shuddering out of him as he tried desperately to stop crying. Lee frowned as he pushed his cheek to Milo's hair and rubbed his hands through it, lacing his fingers between the soft, black strands framing Milo's ears.

"C-Can I ask something of you?" Milo asked. "It's important."

"Yeah, sure."

Lee's chest tightened as Milo took a moment to breathe and gather his voice back. Eventually, Milo whispered, "Please don't threaten to break up with me again unless you mean it. I-It was fine before, b-but I don't think I could take it lightly after this, even if you are kidding."

Well fuck, there goes my heart, Lee thought.

"I won't joke about it anymore," he promised, shaking his head. He thought about the Sigma get together in the quad all those weeks ago and wondered if Milo took him seriously back then when Lee would joke around. He thought about the frat party when Lee used their relationship as leverage for Milo's intervention. He had meant it then, and he had meant it now, but he never even thought about how much he risked Milo's trust in him because of it.

He couldn't keep dragging Milo around like that, and the guilt festered in his chest even as he kissed Milo's hair again and again for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry," Lee whispered, voice breaking. "I won't do it again. I won't break up with you again."

"But what if—?"

"No," Lee said. He pulled away so he could meet Milo's eyes. Milo's eyes were still watery, dusted pink around the edges. His lips were red from worrying them between his teeth. Lee gave his shoulders a shake and said, "I'm not breaking up with you again. I want you to trust me on this. If we're breaking up, it's on your terms."

"L-Lee, don't say that—" Milo started, breath hitching. He shook his head as Lee repeated it again. "Y-You deserve better—"

"You are better," Lee said. "You fucking deleted Tinder for me."

Milo let out a startled laugh. He sniffed, covering his hand over his nose and mouth.

"I shouldn't have abused your trust like that. If anything, you deserve better than me, so I'm leaving that up to you. Got it?"

Milo's eyes widened. After a moment, he nodded.

Lee dropped his hands then with a shaky sigh. He put his hands on his hips and nodded firmly. "Okay. Glad we got that cleared up. Fuck. Okay, I have to stop running away from shit. This is fucked."

Milo nudged him in the shoulder, still looking pathetic and teary-eyed. "Yeah, well, maybe I should be getting you a leash and collar."

Lee blinked at him. Milo ducked down to pick up Lee's duffle as Lee processed what Milo had said. He lunged for Milo then, cussing and dragging him into a side-hug. Milo giggled as Lee smashed his mouth against Milo's temple and sent them both staggering across the bathroom tiles. He released Milo with an audible smack before continuing on the track out of the restroom and back to USFC.

Milo shouldered Lee's duffle and used his free hand to grasp Lee's hand. Lee held onto it with a squeeze, feeling both sick to his stomach with guilt and relieved that Milo was still with him.

I don't deserve him, he thought as they waited for the bus in the salty, ocean breeze. He turned to look at Milo, who was staring at his profile and holding onto his hand so tight, Lee figured Milo was worried he'd run off again. Lee crossed his arm across Milo's front so that, with an arch of his elbow, he dropped his arm around Milo's shoulders and neither of them had to let go.

They were quiet for the majority of the drive back to campus. Lee kept his arm around Milo and somewhere along the way, Milo put his head to Lee's shoulder and closed his eyes. Lee didn't mind the proximity or the PDA—in fact, he relished in it. He recalled what Milo had said about wanting to have his hands in Lee's hair. He understood that now as he laced his fingers through Milo's soft black hair and spiked it up, flattened it, smoothed it over, and did it all over again through the entire ride back.

It felt different without their usual banter filling the silence. It wasn't a bad different—just different. Lee let the sensation dissolve some of the acid in his chest where his guilt burned away. It was both heavy and warm—so different from the light, airy heat he had felt with Milo before that moment in the transit atrium. So he let it soak in and dissipate through his entire being as Milo napped against him until they were back on campus and pulling up to the stop nearest Frat Row.

Lee carried his duffle and held onto Milo's hand with his free hand. He hadn't exactly been working out in San Diego, but the weight of the duffle didn't matter. He'd done what he could on his own—abs and pecs, mostly, since the San Diego heat felt like death in a gaseous state of matter.

When they arrived at the Sigma Alpha stoop, Milo took Lee's duffle from him and pushed through the front door. He tugged Lee over the threshold, their fingers laced together. Lee held his breath as they passed in front of the living room. There were three guys there, half asleep playing a video game on the flatscreen television.

As expected, the place looked like a mess. There was, quite clearly, a New Year's party the night before, so Lee wasn't surprised to find the majority of the house dead asleep. All of the doors were shut and locked, and the lights were all off. They climbed up to the top floor where Milo used Roland's key ring and unlocked the door.

He pushed it open and lowered Lee's duffle from his shoulder. The window was open but with the overcast, the room felt still and solemn. Lee put his backpack on Roland's desk chair as Milo shut the door and turned back to him.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Not really," Lee confessed. He stepped forward as Milo sat on the edge of the bed, staring intently at him. Milo reached for his hand, and Lee took it and let Milo reel him in for a hug.

Lee slotted between Milo's legs as he leant up against the bed and folded his arms over Milo's shoulders. Roland's bed was tall, all things considered, which put Milo's head just below his chin. Milo shifted back on the bed, pulling Lee with him until they were lying together on the mattress—Lee, flat against Milo's stomach, and Milo, with his legs wrapped around Lee's waist.

They fell asleep like that as if Lee wasn't already disoriented from his nap on the bus. When he woke up close to five in the evening, his stomach was cramping from hunger, his brain felt fuzzy, and there were lines on his face from the wrinkles in Milo's shirt. He rubbed at his cheek as he pushed himself up onto one hand, groaning.

He looked towards the window. The sun was still up and the sky had cleared, so it felt more like morning than evening. He groaned as he stretched his arms up and flopped onto his side, rolling over Milo's leg. He nestled himself against Milo's pelvis, his arm over Milo's torso, and his nose to Milo's shoulder.

Milo was on his phone until then. He set his phone aside as Lee looked up at him. Milo reached over and ran his finger over the burning skin on Lee's nose. His thumb felt frozen in comparison to the sunburn and it made Lee shiver.

Lee held Milo's hand close. He laid a kiss on Milo's knuckles, drawing a line with his thumb down the side of Milo's hand. Lee pushed himself up a little, following the line with his lips until they passed over the veins on Milo's inner wrist.

"Your skin is hot," Milo commented, and Lee could hear the dip in his voice like a chord being struck in his chest.

"That's what happens when you don't put SPF on," Lee said, lips grazing Milo's index finger.

"Damn, that's sexy," Milo breathed.

Lee laughed as he put his hand on the mattress beside Milo's hip and leant over. He pushed his knee up between Milo's legs. Lee licked a trail on the underside of Milo's finger before sucking it down. He grazed his teeth along the digit as he popped off to look up at Milo again through lidded eyes.

"You know it's almost impossible for a human to bite off a finger," Lee said.

Milo stared at him and bent forward laughing. Milo reached for Lee's face and Lee could feel the dampness from his saliva on Milo's hand as he said, "What the Hell? What made you think about that? Were you thinking about biting my finger off?"

"Yeah. I mean, if we're using something like a hundred-fifty newtons when we're just chewing regularly, a carrot's gotta be over two-hundred, but it takes fourteen-hundred to fracture a finger and the human bite is only capable of twelve-hundred newtons so in theory—"

Milo pulled Lee forward. Their lips touched and the jumble of words in his head vanished. Lee moved forward, his knee pressing up to Milo's crotch as Milo groaned in his mouth, moaning, "You're amazing."

Lee breathed a curse into Milo's mouth before pushing in with his tongue, faster, more heated than before. The heaviness from before dissolved with each lick and kiss against Milo's lips and soon, Lee was filled with that light, static energy that pushed him to the brink in the hammock, or those oh-so sweet moments in the locker room.

He leant over Milo and pushed him back against the headboard, his hand reaching up to clasp against the edge of it beside Milo's head. Milo's mouth was hot and wet against his own and Lee lost it when Milo dragged his tongue across the side of Lee's and slipped into his mouth. A breathy moan left him and with it, heat flushed through his body.

Milo scrambled with the hem of Lee's shirt. Lee raised his arms up and flicked the shirt away into one of the darker corners of the unlit room. In the evening sunlight, though, Lee could see Milo's bright, golden eyes watching him as he reached for Milo's shirt next. When it was gone, they stared at one another—Lee, with his hand on the headboard, and Milo, with his cold hands flat against the skin of Lee's abdomen. His skin was feathered with pinpricks of a sunburn—it looked as though patches of him was blushing under Milo's attentive fingers.

Lee's lips fell open, his heart fluttering in his chest. He wanted to ask, but the words just wouldn't come out.

Milo got the gist of it. "Are we doing this?" he asked, voice husky and fucked up.

Lee shivered and nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, we're doing this."

And then, at the same time, they both said, "We can use my—" Lee stopped and, likewise, Milo snapped his mouth shut before bursting into the cutest fucking giggle Lee had ever witnessed in his eighteen years of existence. Lee shoved him in the chest and went to his duffle to get the clear bottle stashed in the side pocket.

When he returned, Milo was completely naked.

Lee had never seen Milo in all his naked-ass glory. Milo didn't give a shit, either—legs sprawled, hands on his thighs, eyes on Lee like he knew he looked like a damn snacc. Lee let out a shuddered breath as his eyes followed the shape of Milo's hips like it had ages before, only this time, the 'V' was now a target for the only thing on Lee's mind.

"Fuck," Lee breathed.

Milo held out his hand for the lube. Lee tossed it to him so he could unbutton his jeans. When Lee climbed on the bed again, Milo laid a long, slow kiss on Lee's lips before pulling away with a hum.

Milo licked his lips and said, "I want your fingers in my ass."

Lee snorted and said, "Oh, so you don't want to bite them off? Are you sure you don't want to—? Eat them?"

Milo laughed, slapping the lube into Lee's outstretched hand. As he did, Milo started babbling about shit like, "God, I've been thinking about this ever since you said you'd top. I'm so fucking ready. Holy shit, you're so hot when you're all serious like that—"

Milo sucked in his next words when Lee pressed his lathered fingers between Milo's legs and pushed. "I swear to God if you talk about my fingers up your ass one more time..." Lee hissed before taking Milo's lip between his teeth as Milo released a shuddering breath. Lee kissed him once more before putting his entire focus to his fingers as he raised Milo's leg up with a hand under his thigh.

Their eyes met and held. Lee had never once been in this predicament before—Milo knew that—and before Lee could panic at the severity of the situation, Milo put a hand on Lee's arm and said, "Keep going. I'll tell you if it hurts."

Lee nodded. As he continued, Milo's gentle encouragements, breathy moans, and his intoxicating smell had Lee's head spinning. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, swirling his thoughts into an incomprehensible jumble of nerves when Milo used his shaky hands to tear open a condom package.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lee asked.

Milo nodded, smiling wide as ever. "Yeah. I'll be even better when you're—"

Lee cut him off with a kiss. When they parted, Lee huffed, "Shut up. Don't you ever get embarrassed saying stuff like that?"

"Shut me up, then," Milo said, as if he wasn't already embarrassing enough for Lee to deal with.

a/n: Just the epilogue left :) Thanks for reading!