Page 64 of Shifter Omegaverse AU

Milo put on their flirtiest smile, raising one eyebrow suggestively as they walked over to the pile of freshly washed strawberries. “So, do you want to eat these out of my mouth?”

Nailed it.

Rowan spluttered, erasing that bummed look, and Milo’s pony let out a triumphant neigh, throwing their blonde locks back and forth.

Alright, decided it. Milo was absolutely going to grow their hair out. They wanted to be able to toss their hair over their shoulder and coyly look through their curtain of bangs. That would totally up their flirt game, and now that they had a very handsome fated mate to flirt with, they could use all the help they could get.

“Uhm,” Rowan said, clearing his throat with a cough. “I could go for some food, but maybe just in a bowl for now?”

“Roger that. Food first, smooching later,” Milo said, spinning on their heel and marching across the small kitchen to where they kept their fanciest bowls.

For the record, they weren’t actually fancy. They were just the only ones not chipped or dented. Milo only took them out for special occasions, like when they hosted Ethel and didn’t want to hear her lecture about them living in squalor.

“I…can’t make any promises about kissing,” Rowan said haltingly. “But I did really enjoy kissing you earlier.”

He leaned back against the counter, crossing his broad arms across his chest. Milo would give up strawberries for the rest of their life for just one hug from those big arms. But even if they could never hug or kiss again, Milo would never give up Rowan. They were sure of that now, so they just had to be patient and see where the evening—and their relationship—took them.

They did their best to tiptoe around the fog in their head and sent a thank you to wherever Anabelle was for preparing them for being with someone who was touch averse. They probably would’ve figured it out on their own, but there would’ve been a lot more fumbling, bumbling, and stumbling. Not that there wouldn’t still be some fumbling and bumbling, but hopefully without any catastrophic stumbles.

It was a little difficult to prepare their snack with Rowan’s smell and warmth and broad shoulders and sexy half-smile in the kitchen with them, so they finally had to shoo him over to the couch. Momentarily free from temptation, they were able to scurry around the kitchen and get their snack together. After everything they’d gone through in the past twenty-four hours, Milo decided to sit a little closer to Rowan than they usually would have, still not touching, but just barely.

Rowan accepted his bowl and tucked into it like it was the first meal he’d had in days. Come to think of it, it might actually be the first meal he’d had since he’d picked at his pancakes that morning.

Milo’s pony snorted at them. Anabelle would be so disappointed in them for not feeding their boyfriend. She always made sure to keep Milo and Ethel well fed, even with Milo’s sporadic appetite.

Speaking of which, the fog in their head, and the intensity of the past twenty-four hours had done a number on their stomach, and they spent more time moving the strawberries around their bowl than actually eating them. Thankfully, Rowan seemed to have an appetite, polishing off half his bowl before his knee fell open to rest against Milo’s dress-covered thigh. With that added steady pressure and Rowan’s calming scent permeating the small apartment, Milo managed to eat three strawberries and two bites of ice cream.

“Did everything go okay with Ruben?” Milo finally asked. “Ray and I had a lovely little chat, and I think things might actually work out for the two of them.”

Rowan’s gaze was fixed firmly over Milo’s shoulder as he said, “That’s good. Ruben didn’t leave me with quite that much confidence, but I guess we’ll see.”

Milo tapped the spoon against their teeth. “Would it be helpful if I said again that I genuinely don’t think their relationship will affect ours?”

Rowan was in the middle of a bite, and he closed his lips around the spoon and nodded.

“Okay, well, I swear on Ethel‘s good hip that I will do everything in my power not to let anything or anyone but us affect our relationship.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Ethel’s…good hip?”

“Yeah, Ethel swears everything by her hip, so I thought I might as well do it, too.”

Rowan gently nudged Milo’s leg with his knee. “Fair enough.”

Milo continued chasing strawberries around their bowl as anticipation spread through their limbs. Their fingers itched to touch Rowan, to explore the vast expanse of his muscular chest and cup his stubbly cheeks.

Milo’s pony shook out their mane, and Milo took that as their cue. They made sure Rowan was looking over at them before suggestively licking ice cream off the end of their spoon. Just to be sure he understood, Milo made very suggestive eye contact, widening their eyes in a way they were sure looked sexy.

Rowan’s lips, which had already been twitching upward throughout their snack, curved all the way up, and he shook his head, clearly blown away by Milo’s sex appeal.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I just want to make sure you know I’m serious about being good with my mouth. It was one of my three promises after all.”

Rowan took a final, heaping bite of dessert before gingerly setting his bowl on the side table, which was actually just a moving box Milo had placed a piece of plywood on top of. They thought it added to the charm of the place, and it reminded them of all they’d been through to get here. Obviously, Rowan had no way of knowing the significance of it, and as he paused, casting the table a sideways look, Milo felt a clawing sensation start up the back of their neck. They didn’t have matching dishes or glass and chrome furniture. Their couch groaned in protest every time Rowan moved, and Milo could feel a spring digging into their left butt cheek. They’d never felt ashamed when having Ray over, but they’d just hosted Rowan and his brother.

Anabelle had always taught them to be proud of who they were and where they’d come from. For the most part, they were, but Anabelle wasn’t here anymore. There was nothing but suffocating fog left in her wake.

Milo’s pony whinnied, but the fog continued to thicken.