CHAPTER 1
MILO
Milo desperately needed a shag!
It had been far too long, and his balls felt like they resembled those of an elephant. It wasn’t even about romance; he just needed an itch scratched. Three months was an alarming dry spell for him. Milo would love to find a guy to settle down with, but that was unlikely given his tastes, so he’d take a night of hot fucking right now. Even his flatmates were looking like a consideration, but they’d known each other for years, so it would feel icky if he went there after all this time.
Milo had been on his own since his mother died when he was fifteen. His foster parents had been pleasant enough and given him a home for three years, but Milo knew he was just a pay check to them. There’d been five other kids in that house, all under ten, so he was the outlier. Apart from an obligatory exchange of Christmas cards, he hadn’t seen any of them in the decade since he’d moved into the halls of residence when he was eighteen.
It was during that first year living in halls that he’d met Liam, who was now his best friend. After graduation, they’d been looking for a flat share, as they couldn’t afford to get a place just the two of them but also hadn’t wanted to live instudent digs anymore– sharing a house with ten people had been an experience Milo didn’t want to repeat. A company that specialised in matching gay guys for flat shares had introduced him to his current flatmates, and they’d been living together now for six years, the last four in their current flat.
Milo regarded his other flatmates as friends, given how long they’d lived together, but it was like they were two old married couples. Kieran and Hassan had known each other for as long as Milo had known Liam, and while they did stuff as a foursome occasionally, there were things Milo would only ever confide in Liam. The main reason was that Kieran could be a judgy bitch. He had an opinion about everything, especially politics. Milo tried to keep away from the topic as Kieran believed every politician was the spawn of Lucifer. Left or right, it didn’t matter. If you disagreed with Kieran, you were just as bad as the politicians, who were only out for themselves. Milo could usually tune Kieran out when he was ranting, but there were days when it was exhausting and he’d love to just tell him to shut the fuck up.
Milo worked for a leading tabloid as PA to the editor, so he knew the importance of being respectful of others views and appreciating that living in a democracy meant people could express their opinions freely. Milo would always be front and centre for something he strongly believed in, but didn’t feel the need to weigh in on everything that was happening in the world. Some things he just didn’t have an opinion on, an approach that was unacceptable to Kieran. An opinion was mandatory.
“You’d better be coming to the protest next week, Milo,” said Kieran.
Milo wondered if Kieran had heard his inner monologue.
“Of course I’m going to be there.”
For someone who hated politics, Kieran loved a protest, but this wasn’t one Milo would be missing. The governingparty had done nothing to progress LGBTQ+ rights in their eight years in office, but they also hadn’t rolled them back either. It was frustrating, but it could be a lot worse based on what was happening around the world. That had recently started to change, though. William Hargreaves, a cabinet minister, had been on a late-night panel show and made several transphobic slurs. The whole thing had blown up with demands for him to go. It had taken twenty-four hours for him to resign, which calmed things for five minutes before people were calling for the prime minister to go as well, because she hadn’t sacked him
There had been a lot of press and social media attention on it. Milo’s boss, Patrick, had been clear he didn’t want to give a platform to Hargreaves, so had taken a different view on the reporting, but many of their competitors were claiming it violated freedom of speech that he’d had to resign. Government ministers had stated they disagreed with Hargreaves’s comments, but that was all they’d done. It was like once Hargreaves had gone, they wanted to put it behind them. The protest was asking for the government to take more proactive action. There was no question about whether Milo was going to be there.
“Do you think Lexie will come?” asked Kieran.
“She’ll be at the front, leading the charge.”
Kieran laughed. He needed to do it more often. He wore a perpetual scowl, always looking for his next fight with someone who disagreed with his views, but when he smiled he was a good looking guy. Kieran was a tattooist and covered from neck to toe in artwork. It could be an intimidating sight when you first met him. Kieran’s childhood had been difficult, from what Milo knew. He was guarded about it, but he had nothing to do with his family, so that was telling enough.
“What are you doing tonight?” asked Kieran. “Why don’t you come to Soho with us?”
“I’m not feeling Soho tonight.”
“How dare you!” gasped Kieran, clutching his metaphorical pearls.
Milo chuckled. “It’s been a long week. Think I just need to take it easy.”
“Get back on the apps. You need to get laid before it shrivels up and falls off.”
“And I suppose you have a queue of men beating down your door?”
“Ugh, no. I would never bring trade back here. This is my sanctuary.”
Kieran wasn’t far off in the description of his bedroom. The room had dozens of candles and other smellies, as well as about a million pillows on his bed. It was like a luxury spa had thrown up in there. It would take a good twenty minutes to remove all the pillows from his bed, which would be a bit of a passion killer.
“Are you all going out to get laid, or is it just quiet drinkies?”
“Liam’s always on heat, and trying to pass it off as ‘searching for romance,’ so we can never just have quiet drinkies when he’s there. Hassan has something going on with that guy he met at the gym, and I have a booty call booked for tomorrow, so you won’t be on your own.”
Milo considered it. Did he want to go out? He knew he wouldn’t get what he was looking for in a bar. Guys took one look at his short frame and the fact he was still asked for ID all the time and made assumptions. At least with the apps, he could be clear from the start. No misunderstandings. You could be upfront about what was on offer, and there was none of the awkwardness that went with rebuffing someone in person. The block feature on the apps was brutal, and it stung, but it ended the conversation. Milo made it clear on his profile what he liked. Most of the time it worked, but for thelast couple of hookups he’d felt like he was being fetishised, which didn’t sit right with him.
“Where are you going?”
“Mickey’s.”
Milo groaned. Mickey’s was a pickup bar. Guys just walked around in an endless loop hoping to catch someone’s eye. He couldn’t talk, though; he’d done the same himself before.
