Serial Dating

Protect the Rushil Roll

Lee pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. "Oh really? What makes you so sure I'd be that easy?"

Milo smiled gently, lifting his eyes up from where his fingers had trailed down to the waistband of Lee's boxers. He leaned over to pluck something off of the end table. Lee wasn't sure exactly what it was until Milo put it on his face and turned back. Lee stared in alarm at the pair of glasses on Milo's face. It was the biggest Fuck You to what Ignorant Lee thought was sexy at the time. He never thought he'd fall for a bespectacled man, but there was Milo looking like a damn snacc in a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.

He also looked a little bit like death this early in the morning, but Lee's mouth was watering anyway.

"I—" want you to fuck me, his brain said, but his voice wasn't even in this dimension anymore.

Milo shifted a little, scooting up until their eyes were level with one another—Lee, lying back on the pillow, and Milo, leaning over him. "Were you serious? Last night, when you said you'd never done this before," Milo whispered.

Lee nodded. He was afraid his voice would crack if he said anything. Eventually, though, he cleared his throat and managed to rasp out, "I don't... You don't have to feel obligated or anything. I'm not sentimental, and I've always thought virginity was a ploy developed by the patriarchy."

Milo snorted, nudging his glasses up a tad before letting his hand fall to Lee's collarbone. He dragged a line across it as he said, "For what purpose?"

Lee rolled his eyes. "Why else are there social constructs? To lump humans into neat little boxes and punish them for stepping out of it."

Milo stared at him, mouth ajar. He looked cute, all confused like that, so Lee brought his hand up to press his thumb to the wrinkle that formed on Milo's forehead. "Don't think too hard about it or else you'll hurt yourself," he said.

And then, his alarm went off.

Lee groaned as he pushed himself up and rolled over Milo. He landed nimbly on his feet and, in his search for the clothes he threw around the night before, came upon Milo's shirt. It was a long sleeve, plain black shirt with the Hunters mascot on the front. Lee kicked it a little, to see what was on the back. It had Milo's jersey number and last name on it.

Lee gathered it up with his dirty clothes and, after tossing the rest in his hamper, he bundled it up into his backpack. Milo was already half asleep on the bed, anyway, oblivious to his missing shirt. In any case, his glasses where now on his chest, so Lee was certain he wouldn't be able to see it anyway.

After putting on jeans and buttoning up his work shirt, Lee leant out into the open to say, "You can stay here, if you want. I'll give you my keys and you can just give them to me when you stop by for coffee."

"Good. I wasn't planning on moving until practice," Milo said, voice muffled by the blankets.

Lee scoffed on his way out of the dorm. He went to the restroom where he took extra care in brushing his teeth and washing his face. His nerves felt jittery in a satisfying sort of way—it was a sensation he had never experienced and therefore was at a loss for words. When he returned to the dorm, he zipped up his backpack and shouldered it.

Before leaving, he stopped next to the bed. He leant over and, likewise, Milo turned back so that when Lee went to kiss his stubbled cheek, he wound up kissing Milo's lips instead.

Milo snickered like it was all a part of his grand master plan. "See you later," he said.

"Y-Yeah," Lee breathed, stunned. He pushed off of the mattress and, after taking one last look at Milo, dropped his keys on the end table and left.