Water On Fire [MileApo | mxm]

19

Post-coital Apo is making ginger juice in nothing but a wrinkled shirt. Forty-eight hours after Mumbai, Mile and Apo are still jet-lagged. They have been calling it an early night and getting in bed immediately after work for two days in a row, and Mile loves it.

PR is on the phone and Mile isn't even mad, because he's getting an eyeful of Apo's naked backside while the younger man bustles around his kitchen.

"-so I tried that angle: like, putting yourself through this BL was borderline traumatic for you as a straight man or whatever. But now they're saying you're just acting with him for the money..."

Mile tips his head back and laughs, low and guttural.

"I am money." Apo is looking very at home in Mile's kitchen, comfortably navigating the layout and finding what he needs. He tips the cutting board and slides the sliced ginger into the pot of boiling water on the stove. "I'm not gay for pay. If anything, I paid for the gay." Mile taps his foot, watching Apo add sugar to the bubbling juice like a tiger watches its prey. "By the way, wanna know how the return on my investment in KinnPorsche is going?"

"Gay for pay, pay for gay; either way, it's still gay! Now, what I keep trying to tell you..."

Apo is shimmying around now, dancing. The sight makes Mile's chest tighten. His dick stirs in interest.

"Sorry, something super high-priority just came up. Can we continue this another time?" He hangs up without waiting for a reply.

Mile walks over to Apo. He takes off Apo's glasses and puts them on the counter, leans in, and claims Apo's lips. Mile walks him backwards, caging him against the floor-to-ceiling window with his hands entwined around the darker pair, kissing him earnestly. Licking, biting, grinding, fingers digging into the soft flesh of Apo's ass. Apo gives a little hop and wraps his legs around Mile's waist. Anyone walking by could see them, and that's exactly how Apo likes it.

Mile kisses him against the glass like this for another full minute before he drops Apo onto the bed. They roll around in the still-damp sheets.

Mile wraps himself around Apo's body from behind, peppering Apo's pulse point with kisses.

"You still make my heart race," he murmurs under Apo's ear.

"Not tired of me yet?"

"Never."

"Why do you love me so much," Apo asks. Mile can see his eyelashes fluttering. It takes him a second to realize this is a continuation of their conversation in the car.

Mile doesn't even know where to begin. Apo's so genuine and authentic. So relaxed. He's an actor, but he never tries to be someone he isn't in his own life. He's unapologetic, unafraid to be himself, and ruthlessly good-looking. He's sensitive, smart, cute, funny, interesting, sociable... He's the brightest, most beautiful thing in Mile's life, with his eccentricities and his mysterious scent and his unique hilarity.

"Mm, well... You make me happy," Mile summarizes, nuzzling Apo's nape.

"I make dirty jokes and burp in your face."

"It makes me laugh." Mile reaches under his shirt and flicks Apo's nipples with his thumbs.

"I almost crashed your car, multiple times-"