Work Text:
Nobody had wanted this job.
Sweetheart hadn’t been surprised when their co-workers had snubbed their noses at it, not even chancing the file a second glance.
Capturing a low-life drug dealer wasn’t exactly unusual for the Department, nor was it a large achievement. Certainly not a task you should waste your time on, if you could help it.
But Sweetheart couldn’t help their curiosity getting the better of them. They’d always had a thing for the underdog.
Besides, their priority would always be to keep Dahlia safe, even if they had to push down their competitive nature to remember that sometimes.
Picking up the abandoned file and taking it to their desk, Sweetheart prepared for the usual. A man seen around parking lots leaning through car windows or a woman spending suspicious amounts of time in club bathrooms. It had only taken them a few sips of coffee and a skim read of the first page however, to realise that the summary of the case had been deceiving.
A new drug. One that enhanced your core, giving empowered people more energy to use their abilities. The perp, a young Sonal-Energetic, estimated to be between 5’9-5’11 and in his early 20’s, had been photographed around academies in Dahlia, dealing to college athletes.
There was no possible way that this man had singularly created and distributed this drug.
He was the bottom of the food chain, hunched posture and frequenting the same places, not markers of an experienced criminal.
‘Easy pickings’ as their superior would say, and if Sweetheart could be the one to arrest and question him then they’d be first choice for taking down the rest of the operation.
Sure, arresting a drug dealer wasn’t a career defining moment.
The attainment of taking down an entire empowered drug ring however, just might be.
-
That is what sweetheart kept repeating to themselves as the yellow lights in the healing room flickered above them. This was worth it. The pain thrumming through their head, the passing out in front of their colleagues, it was all worth it now that they had gotten the perp. As angry as he clearly was to have been caught, Sweetheart was sure they could still win him over, even make him an informant if they played their cards right.
They might just need a nap first.
Turning on the lumpy blue mattress that was only slightly more comfortable than the gravel the perps magic had thrown them on, they fiddled with the IV tube in their arm, the bag was almost empty.
Sure, department insurance covered medical care beyond the dingy nursing room Sweetheart had woken up in, but they weren’t about to dip into the healing funds for something as little as a headache.
Besides, healing magic to the head would have written them off until tomorrow, and they still had a hot date to attend tonight.
“Oh, crap.” They groaned rolling over to check their watch, they had twelve minutes until their shift ended. Twelve minutes until Milo would be there to pick them up and whip them off to somewhere fancy.
Sweetheart removed their blazer, folding it over their arm as they walked into the car park, ignoring the chill that fluttered up their spine.
They spotted Milo’s car almost immediately, his brightly coloured Tyre plates making it easy to do so, along with the fact that he was leant against the bonnet waiting for them with that stupidly charming smile.
“Hey Sweetheart.” Milo opened the passenger side door, his spare hand stretched open to guide them in, adding a slight flare to the gesture. Circling the car and climbing in once Sweetheart had fastened their seatbelt.
“Hey.” Sweetheart was admittedly relieved to be seated again. The Advil was taking longer to kick in than usual, leaving them still waiting for their nightmare headache to die-down.
Milo was dressed smartly, patterned shirt and fitted trousers paired together with gold jewelry and some designer shoes, Sweetheart had no-doubt would cost a month's salary.
“How was work?”
“Good, working on a new case, mainly paperwork.”
“Anything interesting?”
“I’m hoping so.” They mumbled.
“Are you ok?” Milo paused for a second, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “If you’re, if you’re tired or something we can do this another night. I don’t mind.”
Sweetheart schooled the offended expression forming on their face, why would he think something was wrong? “I’m not tired.” They defended and Milo nodded slowly. “I think my brains just foggy from sitting at that desk for hours.” They added, not meaning to sound defensive.
“How about you? How’d the job go.”
“Ahh the usual. Had to deal with some uppity asshole who thought me being his bodyguard also doubled for me being his secretary most o’ the day but watching Asher put him in his place after made it worth it-”
Sweetheart rested their head against the window, as Milo continued, the cool glass soothing the throb in their temple just enough for them to relax. The passing cars blurred together while Milo drove further into the town centre, the vibrant colours of the street signs blending into abstract blobs. ‘We’re driving fast, that always happens when we drive fast.’
“You sure you’re alright?” Sweetheart inhaled deep, flinching slightly even with Milo’s voice lower than usual. ‘Was he whispering? When did he finish his story?’ He’d probably figured they’d fallen asleep.
Sweetheart sat upright, rolling their shoulders back to correct their posture and chancing a glance over to their new acquaintance. His eyes fixed on the road ahead, dark hair fallen beautifully around his features (although given the amount of product they’d seen in Milo’s bathroom they’d bet it’d taken him a while to achieve the look.) and a singular thick eyebrow raised, awaiting a response.
“Yeah.” They feigned a soft smile. “Yes. I’m fine.”
Leaning back against the headrest now, they kept their gaze on him. His fingers tapping on the steering wheel harmonising with Sweetheart’s own heartbeat, pounding in their head.
“So, what’s this place called? Is it fancy?” They questioned, a slight teasing tone in their voice. If they were going to refuse Milo’s offer to reschedule, the least they could do is attempt to be good company.
Milo looked to the side, his eyes moving upwards from Sweetheart’s feet to their face as he seemed to assess them. “Oh yeah, real fancy.” He grinned, pressing down the accelerator as the lights turned green, taking a left turn that led them away from the city centre. “Private seating and a personal waiter to answer your every beck and call.”
Sweetheart's brows furrowed, ‘there aren’t any restaurants down this way? ‘
“Yeah?” They hummed, “What kind of food is it?” Although a fan of the dressing up, the great service and the designer interiors that came along with dining out. Sweetheart didn’t tend to gravitate towards the actual food, the bite sized portions and the extra flavourings added into dishes that didn’t need it. They’d take a home-made dinner or a local take-out over that any day.
“Whatever you want, Sweetheart.”
Sweetheart nodded. ‘It must be a buffet.’
The longer they drove, their body became increasingly sensitive to each movement made as their head faced forwards again. Their muscles acknowledging every speedbump and pothole driven over with soft aches and the constant coarse sound of the engine giving their headache no time to dull down.
They blinked repeatedly to clear their watering eyes as Milo took another turn, down a street Sweetheart recognised this time. ‘This isn’t the way into town.’ In fact, quite the opposite.
“Milo. Are we going to your apartment?”
He huffed a laugh, side-eyeing them. “I’m surprised it took you so long to realise, didn’t seem so directionally challenged when you broke into the place.” His hand grabbed onto the edge of their seat as he turned, looking out of the back window to park.
“What about the- I thought-.” Sweetheart huffed, staring blankly at Milo as they pieced everything together. “There’s no restaurant.”
Milo laughed again, small and slightly sheepish. “Well, there is a restaurant, we’re just not goin’ to it, not tonight anyway.” turning off the engine he exited the car, circling to the other side and re-opening the door for them, ever the gentleman. “What do you say to a night in huh? We’re both tired from work, although-” he added “It is a shame I won't get to show you off in that tight green waistcoat you look ever so wonderful in.” He grinned with a wink.
“You lied to me!” Sweetheart continued staring the man down trying their best to look unamused by Milo’s usual flirtations, although their voice lacked the same offence, words coming out light and somewhat slurred.
“Lie’s a strong word Sweetheart, it was more of a misrepresentation.” He held out his arm for them to take, and they took his hand hesitantly. Wobbling slightly as they stood and leaning more weight onto Milo than they’d have liked. “There may be a lack of restaurant, but I do intend to provide private seating.”
Sweetheart huffed, quickly realising they’d overestimated how much energy they’d been able to conserve as they made their way into his building. They were glad to exit the bright lights of the elevator, making their way into Milo’s apartment.
Hanging up their blazer and placing their shoes on the metal shoe rack he had near the door.
“You wan’ something to drink Sweetheart?” Milo entered the kitchen, the open plan of his apartment making him still visible as they walked past the living area.
“Coffee please.” They muttered, he already knew exactly how they liked it, no need for specifics. “I’m just going to freshen up.”
Sweetheart started for the bathroom, closing the door behind them they let the cold tap run over their wrists and splashed their face, careful not to make a mess. Standing up-right again they reached for a towel, catching their reflection in the mirror.
They looked, blurry? Droopy eyelids and eye-bags, their skin pale in contrast to their usual tan. ‘No wonder Milo hadn’t wanted to take me out.’ The cream towel they picked up slipped from their grip and Sweetheart stared at the nearing tiled floor to pick it up. The world turning on itself as their vision faded.
~
Milo waited for the coffee machine, sorting through his mail to find his delivery menu’s, he preferred calling to order instead of doing it online, it was less complicated and often meant that he could customize his food better.
Milo placed the menu’s down on the coffee table in the living room, for Sweetheart to pick from, when he heard a dull thud coming from his hallway.
“Everything good?” No response. He moved towards them, seeking out their heartbeat. “Sweetheart?”
Milo knocked on the door, gently at first. “You okay in there?”. When they failed to respond again, he twisted the handle slowly pushing the door open and thankful it hadn’t been locked. “I’m coming in.”
He stopped when he felt something push back against the door, sliding in sideways and turning to find Sweetheart laying across his bathroom floor, lips parted but breath steady.
Milo knelt beside them, rolling them onto their back. “Sweetheart?” Placing the back of his hand against their forehead, he couldn’t feel a temperature, they didn’t smell sick either. But their skin was clammy and washed out.
He'd known something was wrong the second he’d seen them, their, usually steady, gait wobbly as they’d approached him. Their words quiet and unsure opposed to confident and purposeful. Milo had put it down to tiredness or maybe a headache but as he reached out to their core he was certain there was something else there.
“Paperwork my ass,” Milo sighed sympathetically, placing one of his folded towels beneath their head.
He traced his palms along their body, finding nothing bruised or broken, “What have I told you about overworkin’ y’self?” He muttered hands still moving gently up their legs, their waist, their arms. Milo reached for his core as his touch returned to their head, jolting when he felt it. A foreign magic, aggressive and strong swirling around them. “Shit Sweetheart.”
Cradling their face, his thumbs against their temple he soothed his magic into them, Sweethearts lips parting as he did so with a gentle groan. He wouldn’t be able to push the magic out of them, that energy would have to run out on its own, but he could make his Sweetheart more comfortable at least.
They groaned again, heartbeat returning to its usual pace as their eyes fluttered open and closed. Milo whispered their name into their skin, they didn’t answer, but a small smile graced their face after his third repetition of it.
A short laugh doubling a sigh escaped him as he placed his arms beneath them, lifting them bridal style, sweethearts face laying against his chest, jolting as he stood for the both of them. “You’re good, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Milo spoke. Moving towards the bedroom.
This wasn’t even close to the first time he’d carried them to his bed like this, but it was the first time they hadn’t been trying to rip his clothes in the process. He definitely preferred that way.
Shit, their clothes.
A pantsuit wasn’t exactly what Milo considered preferable attire for a restful night's sleep.
Laying them down gently, Milo continued his soft reassurances. “I’ma get you changed okay Sweetheart?” He asked, observing a slight, stiff nod of their head as he made his way into his closet. He picked up one of his t-shirts and some sleep pants Sweetheart had left the last time they were over, laughing as he remembered them rushing off, grabbing all their random things from around the apartment as they’d realised they were late for their shift.
Toothbrush, jacket, Milo’s deodorant can. He hadn’t minded replacing it, since he clearly needed a trip to the drug store to pick up some essentials for them to keep there. Just for their convenience, of course.
Milo started slowly on Sweetheart shirt buttons lifting them to sit upwards as he slid it off, sucking air in through his teeth as he noticed the sore scrapes adorning their left side and arm.
Sweetheart fell forward into him letting out what could only be described as whimper as his touch met their stinging wounds. “I know, I’ll be quick.”
And he was, laying them back down to work on removing their belt and trousers. Milo startled as Sweetheart released a giggle into the silence, their head tilting all the way back.
“You alright up their Sweetheart?” Milo smiled
“Yeah, yeah,” they slurred “Just didn’t know you knew how to take my clothes off without ripping ‘em.” They teased, grinning ear to ear.
Milo worked Sweethearts trousers off their legs and began placing their feet into the pajamas gently. Always gently.
“That is a false allegation, and you know it” He responded, “I would never ruin fine garments such as the ones you wear.” Sweetheart laughed again and it was beautiful. “You know I respect them too much.”
“Mmmmhmm.” They sing-songed “I don’t keep coming back here cause you’re respectful Mr Greer.”
“No?” Milo lifted their waist, pulling the waistband up to their hips. Moving to get them into their t-shirt and picking Sweetheart back up to face him. “Then what could possibly be the reason?”
Sweetheart parted their lips to speak but just grinned towards him, their half-lidded eyes staying locked with his as their hair fell forward around their Face. “ ‘Cause you’re Milo.” they stated matter of factly as he adjusted them into the garment, Sweetheart putting absolutely zero effort into holding themself up.
“Cause I’m Milo.” he repeated. Laying them back down once more, tucking the covers around them this time before standing up to strip out of his own outfit.
“Yeah.” Sweetheart rolled, laying on their side voice muffled by the pillow they’d planted their face into, “’Cause you’re mine.”
Milo stilled at that, just watching them covered in his blanket, his clothes, his scent. Breath slowing as they settled further into the mattress.
As if it was the most natural thing on earth to them.
As if they hadn’t just claimed him.
“You coming?” They wafted their hand as if to gestured to his side, their arm falling limply back to the bed seconds later.
“I am.” Milo answered. To all of it.
He climbed in beside them, close until they were pressed against his side, Sweetheart attempted to lift their head to look at him again, squinting as they appeared to drowsily scrutinise him.
“Milo.” They confirmed after their assessment, settling back down on his chest their arm struggling to pull him closer to them
“Yep Milo.” He agreed, biceps tightening around them in return. “I’m here, I’m yours.”
And he knew now more than ever, he always would be.