31 December 2018
"Why aren't you drinking?"
Milos's orange juice displaced itself over the back of his hand as he jumped violently. The last time he'd looked at Alex the man had been over the other side of the room ignoring an inter-departmental intern. Milos had thought it safe to duck away from the people with their awkward questions he couldn't adequately answer and take five minutes to gather his wits again. Showed what he knew.
"Or is that—" The glass, with the remains of its contents, was ripped from his hand. Alex sniffed at it thoughtfully, then shoved it back at the alfa with a snort. "It's new year's eve, why are you drinking that shit?"
Just what was so wrong with regular orange juice, anyway? "I like it," he muttered, twisting away from both Alex and the looks they were already attracting from their colleagues. "I don't need to get drunk. I'm not you." The last time had been bad enough.
Normally Alex would take exception; Milos was already prepared to duck the slap around the back of his head. Instead an arm snaked around his shoulders, dragging him two steps sideways. "A little bit won't hurt." From Alex's too-bright eyes, he'd had more than a little bit himself.
Milos let out a heavy sigh and allowed Alex to steer him towards the bar. Maybe he was right; maybe a little alfa-created alcohol would take the uneasy edge off the evening.
* * *
At ten to midnight he was still clinging to the glass of thick liquid Alex had given him before he'd vanished back into the crowd of co-workers. With any luck he was trying to get laid with some pretty and naïve staff member he'd never met before and Milos could start the year as he meant to go on: peacefully.
On the other hand, this also meant he was a prime target for people he'd never before met who thought that standing alone on new year's eve meant he was lonely and should be chatted at. He answered awkwardly, nodding and smiling and hiding behind his drink until in the end, no doubt feeling they'd done their duty by talking to the nervous-looking dokkalfa, they patted his shoulder and headed back into the throng.
Apparently he'd never perfected the death glare Alex was such a master of. And speaking of, just where was he? Life without him might seem peaceful, but his absence grated on Milos. The man could bring trouble down on both of them without even trying; it had nothing, he reasoned, to do with the fact that a peaceful life suddenly seemed... boring.
A hand wrapped around his upper arm, dragging him sideways and back with enough force that his drink, for the second time that night, relocated itself to his hand. "What the hell—?!"
"Shut up," the voice breathed against his ear, and Milos allowed himself to relax as Alex pulled him towards an unused bar. "Put your drink down."
Milos did as he was told, relieved to get the damn thing out of his hand without being accused of, horror of horrors, sobriety, and was only halfway turned towards Alex when fingers twined into the hooks of his jeans and pulled him off balance. "Wha—"
The floor hit him with a thump, winding him just enough to render him compliant as Alex began to fumble with the catch of his jeans one-handed, the other grinding his palm against his crotch. "I want to start the new year as I mean to go on." To his credit, the words were barely slurred.
"But—What?" He'd only had half the alfa-brewed alcohol in the glass but already comprehension seemed to be eluding him. He could only stare down at Alex as he pulled his jeans down his legs, yanking first one sneaker off, then the other. "I don't—"
It wasn't one of his usual smirks that Alex flashed him. It was a wide grin. "I want to be fucking you at new year."
"Oh." It made as much sense as anything else. And, as Alex returned his hands to Milos's body, sliding his fingers into the waistband of his underwear, he decided it made more sense than half the evening so far had. He couldn't be blamed if his own fingers found their way to Alex's belt, after all; he'd been drinking. Everyone knew he did stupid things after he'd had a drink.
Alex's grin grew as Milos's shorts followed his jeans, and squirmed from his own trousers, kneeling between Milos's legs. "Ready?"
"Yeah, but..." He glanced down at Alex. Really, the man had more in common with the Ever-Ready rabbit. "What are you going to do for..." he gestured down at himself, then at the bar to the room beyond and took a deep breath, "and what about them?"
Alex dragged his black denims towards himself and palmed a tube from the pocket. "What do you take me for? And as for them..." He laughed, soft and low. "Why do you think I've been talking to everyone all evening? They're all so fucking sick of me they won't come looking for me now."
He couldn't help it: he started to laugh too, clapping his hand over his mouth to stifle the sounds that shifted from mirth to soft moans as Alex eased himself into him. Only when Alex was laying almost chest to chest with him, Milos's legs wrapped awkwardly around him, did the alfa allow his hand to slip from his mouth again. "This isn't how I thought I'd spend today."
Alex began to move, ignoring the shuddering breath Milos released beneath him. "What did you think you'd be doing? Working on your new year's resolutions?" He wrapped one hand into the alfa's now neck-length hair, giving it a short tug. "Here's one for you: get a haircut."
"Actually I was thinking more about—ahh—not having sex this year. Ahn..."
"Well," Alex grinned, giving his hair another pull, "you failed that one already." He paused as, outside their little world behind the bar, the rest of their co-workers broke into a not-entirely-sober countdown.
Milos let out a less than dignified moan and tried to push his hips up towards Alex again, pressing his fingers hard against the plasticky floor. "I don't know... Uhn... There's still time—"
His words were cut off as the party finished shouting out one! and Alex's mouth was suddenly over his own, the heat and softness of his lips stealing away the rest of the sentence as the room filled with the sonorous sound of Big Ben blasted through speakers. Throughout the kiss Alex resumed grinding into the alfa, each thrust eliciting another muffled gasp. When they broke away Milos was panting heavily, staring up at Alex's grin. "I think," the human said softly, each word tickling Milos's burning skin, "that resolution is definitely broken."
Milos nodded breathlessly, arching up into him, and found that he really didn't care.
YOU ARE READING
Milos has been a lot of things: homeless, abused, a rent boy. He'd thought he'd found a home, but now he can add another title to the list: government genetic experiment. He should hate it. His irritatingly handsome partner is a lecherous psychopath...