Chapter Text
“Screw Siberia”, Milo muttered.
They had been walking in the middle of a violent snowstorm for a solid half an hour.
“Next time Athena says we should travel and get a a grasp of the outer world” the Scorpio Saint shouted in the wind, trying to use his arm to shield his face from the blast of snow, “... let's go to France.”
“France?”, Camus turned around, not bothered by the prohibitive weather at all. "Why?"
“It's your motherland. Don't you miss it?”
“I'm not sure I even remember it.”
“One reason more to go. Imagine Paris now: the river, the songs, the cafes... No snow.”
“No training.” Aquarius objected. “What would we do all day?”
“You know what. I didn't get myself a redheaded French guy for nothing”, Milo replied slyly.
“My nationality and hair colour has really nothing to do with -” Camus began to protest.
“Picture it”, Milo gestured into the air “an attic overlooking the whole city and we on the windowsill having sex -”
“You don't need Paris for that. Now please move”, Camus urged him, annoyed, but Milo could swear his friend was blushing.
On the top of the hill, the house could finally be seen.
Inside the temperature became acceptable once they lighted the stove and the fireplace.
“I'm happy, Camus” Milo smiled fondly.
“For what?” the other inquired, while placing the supplies they brought on the wooden shelves.
Suddenly but methodically, because he did it many times already in the past, Milo approached Camus from behind, sliding his hands under his friend's shirt and easing them up his torso, while nipping at his neck with his teeth.
Camus wasn't surprised by that move and instead he let his head fall back against the opposite shoulder. His long hair parted, giving Milo more access to his throat, so that the Scorpio Saint could replace the slight sting of his teeth with gentle strokes from the tip of his tongue.
Camus closed his eyes, leaning in the sensation for a while, then Milo made him turn around and he took off the Aquarius Saint's shirt, letting it fall to the ground.
Milo traced with one finger the freckles that dusted his friend's skin lightly, then he started to play with one of his nipples, alternating feather-like touches and rough strokes. With his free hand he did the exact same thing to the most sensitive area of his lover's body, once he sneaked his fingers under the front of his jeans and underwear. Camus shivered.
Milo's hand, usually very warm, was still cold because of the long walk out in the open.
“Just so happy...” the Scorpio Gold Saint teased and his friend, eyes still shut, bit at his own lips. “Come here.”
They kissed passionately and Camus felt like he had his breath withdrawn from the depths of his lungs, while his heart raced.
He had missed it, having everything fade to black because of what Milo did to him, for Camus to lose control was an unthinkable and extraordinary occurrence, except for when he was with lover.
Milo broke the contact just to complete his task of getting Camus out of his clothes, something which reminded him of their first time, when he was still fully dressed while the other boy was already naked. He placed his hand flat on his friend's stomach and he kissed him, possessively.
“Never betray me again”, he then whispered somewhat darkly among kisses.
There was an element equally dangerous and poetic, destructive and devoted in Milo, a nature hidden deeply within which Camus – and him alone – was perfectly able to see.
He liked it.
Being that nature ignited by conflict or soothed by love and friendship, Camus liked to look at it, he appreciated its depth which mirrored his own. They were both very emotionally driven, although they concealed it well in their own different ways.
Camus re-enacted Milo's gesture from before, sliding his own hands under his friend's shirt and lifting it over his head until he managed to take it off.
Milo let him, then he easily lifted his lover up in his arms and in a few steps he took him in the only other room, the one with the bed, on which he made Camus fall.
An indignant sound left the Aquarius Saint's mouth and Milo, removing the rest of his own clothes, looked down at him with dilated pupils which darkened his light blue eyes with desire.
“You know I never betrayed you” Camus replied, coldly. He thought it was more than clear, at this point.
“Not really, no”, he answered, “but the mere impression of you turning your back to me made life unbearable.”
“Milo...”
Milo parted his lover's legs, kneeled between them and he positioned his hands under those beautiful thighs, lifting them up. He generally enjoyed long foreplay, but this time he totally skipped it, going straight to the point.
Camus moaned in a soft discomfort as his lover pushed in.
“I can't stand to let go of you” Milo whispered in his lover's ear, not moving a muscle so that the other could adapt to the sensation. “Ever, Camus...”
The Aquarius Saint placed his hands on his lover's back, running them up and down in delicate caresses and finally settling them on Milo's lower back, encouraging him to move.
Milo took the hint, setting up a steady rhythm, but after a few minutes Camus seemed to have changed his mind.
“Milo? Wait.”
The other was taken aback, interrupting what he was doing to look at his lover. “Something wrong?”
Camus gently but suddenly pushed Milo onto the bed, flat on his own back. Locking his eyes with Milo's, Camus gripped his lover's forearms, red nails digging into the Scorpio's flesh. Camus then lifted his slender pale hips up and he impaled himself on Milo's cock; he took it all in, hard and fast.
When he started moving, Milo was completely overwhelmed.
“As you wish, let's go to... Paris”, Camus breathed out then, closing his eyes.
"W-what?"
Camus pulled Milo in a frantic kiss, encouraging him to drive into him at a faster pace. Milo pounded into Camus' body, hitting the perfect spot.
“Pourquoi pas” Camus conceded, before Milo, with a last thrust, sent them both over the edge.
FIN