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“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Rowan nodded.

“You don’t seem relieved,” Ruben said after a moment, and Rowan looked up.

“I just… I expected, like…”

“A flowchart,” Ruben finished for him.

“I guess.” Rowan shrugged.

“Well you won’t be getting one. People are simple at their core. If it feels good, do it until it doesn’t anymore.”

“I wish I was as unburdened by common sense as you are,” Rowan said.

Ruben stuck his fingers inside a small vase at the center of the table and flicked filthy water at him. “Fuck you.”

Rowan kicked his shin with the toe of his boot. “Fuck you too.”

“Asshole.”

“Jackass,” Rowan replied, picking up his mug and taking a sip.

Ruben did the same.

And they sat in silence for another half an hour before parting ways with Rowan no less anxious than he had been before meeting Ruben.

He had no clue why he’d thought Ruben could help, but there was a part of him that had settled after the conversation. At least a tiny bit.

Maybe nobody would mention anything again and they’d be just fine.

Notes:

Totally. Because Milo’s not a talker or anything.

18

Notes:

And in this chapter, dear reader, right at the opening, you will find some more stellar planning from our resident stellar planner. 10/10, no notes.

Milo

“You should fuck me again,” Milo said the moment Rowan opened his door, barging past him and unloading his stuff all over the place.

It was all too tidy. It needed a bit of chaos.

“What?” Rowan squeaked, closing the door and walking after him, stepping over his shoes and ducking under the swing of Milo’s tote before it landed on the sofa.

“I tried to shift again,” Milo said. “Got all emotional…grrr…clenched, manifested, all that. And nothing. Literally not even a scale.”

“How many times did you try?” Rowan stuffed his fingers under the collar of his shirt and pulling it away from his skin.

Milo followed the movement, tongue coming out to wet his lips because he knew what Rowan had beneath the soft fabric.

“Milo?