Milo - Homecoming

The door closed with a snap, leaving Milo sweaty and heaving for breath. He leaned against the unassuming jet of air. Still solid enough to keep him afloat as the magic diminished. It was a small tear, really. One that shouldn’t have been an issue. That is, it wouldn’t have been if it had been anywhere normal. But the door had opened seven feet off the ground above a lake, and Milo had very little time to react. And when Milo was given very little time to react, he didn’t think clearly. So, he had opened another door to reach through to the first door, and stood on a boulder to put his hand through and slice open his palm enough to close said door. Then he had to close the door he had opened by slicing open his other palm. And then he realized he had done it wrong and ended up slicing open his calf because he thought that might produce better blood. He may have had a bit of blood loss at this point, and simply wasn’t thinking clearly. That, and he hadn’t slept in three days.

The thing about dating the Night Market was this; Milo felt complete. Like he had a space and a home when he had never had one before. But when that space and home decided to take little trips to the stars, to say that Milo felt out of sorts was an understatement. Of course, he would never say this to them. Because the last thing Milo wanted to do was be any sort of inconvenience.  It was an active goal in Milo Next’s life to make the Night Market as happy as can be. An eternal repentance, he liked to think of it. Despite having been forgiven years ago.

“Just had to open today, did ya? Just had to be all ‘hey Gatekeep. You know what’s fun? Tearing a hole in your partner's otherworldly body. Hahaha, let’s do that.’” Collapsing onto the boulder, Milo flopped back and looked up at the stars. Pen was probably up there laughing at him. Prick.

With his leg sore and both of his palms sluggishly oozing blood, Milo took a moment to gather himself. Only five more days. Five more days and his Night would be home.  And at some point in there he would probably pass out from exhaustion, right? A body couldn’t just sustain itself on no sleep and crap food.  Throw a little bit of gin in the mix and the cravings for nicotine, and it was a self-destructive bomb if there ever was one. In fact, he thought maybe it would be a good idea to just lay down now. Sleep for twenty minutes, if he could. Because if he tried to walk home now, he’d wake up, and it would be an entire ordeal and of course he’d have to go for the fifth of whiskey that was sitting on his counter and–

“You’re an idiot.”

Milo blinked. He was no longer looking at the starfield. In fact, he wasn’t outside at all. He was in a warm and cozy bed, surrounded by blankets, looking up at paper lanterns strewn across a whitewashed ceiling.

And Night was right in front of him.

“Hi, darlin’.”

“Hi,” they smiled. “You realize you passed out, right?”

“I do now. Did you carry me all the way back here? Would have liked to see that. Not often I get to be the damsel in distress.”

“Pen carried you.”

Milo frowned at that. Of course Pen did. Because Pen made it their life mission to show Milo how precarious his position was in Nights life. Going out of their way to make sure Milo looked weak. That he was seen as unworthy. That he shouldn’t be the gatekeeper and–

Night cupped his cheek, leaning forward and kissing the frown lines. “Stop.” They always did know when his mind was spiraling. There was a sharp tug against Milo’s chest where a matching scar had been etched.  

He swallowed, looking at them sheepishly. “Haven’t slept much,” he explained. “Pesky intrusive thoughts, darlin’. That’s all.”  Shifting, he sat up a little, taking in his surroundings. The house was mostly dark with the occasional flickering light submerged in different colored silk scarves. Far homier than where Milo usually laid his head to rest.  “Thought you weren’t supposed to be home for another few days. I was going to have a big thing for you planned and everything.”

“Were you?” They raised a brow. Best intentions, but Milo struggled with follow through.

“Okay. So it wasn’t going to be big, but I was going to take you dancing and then ravish you until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.”

“Given that you’re not sleeping, that would last what? Five minutes?

“Psh. Three. Tops.” Reaching out with what he now realized were bandaged hands, he gently guided Night into bed with him. Situating them under the covers, he threw the comforter up over both of their heads, snuggling in close. “Tell me about your trip.”

“It was nice. The stars miss me.”

“I saw the flashes of light in the sky. Looked like quite the soirée.” Down below, the market had partied. They lit their annual lanterns and sent them towards the stars, constructing their shrines for the ancients, while some of the dead chose to rise and come back home. It was a night of chaos and debauchery, and usually one of Milo’s favorite.

But he kept looking up. Kept searching out the small winks of light that he knew was Night. And honestly, his heart felt far more full from that than a random rut in a back alley somewhere. 

Milo Next may have turned disgustingly love sick, and he was waiting for someone in the market to take out a billboard and mock him for it. Hell, at this point, he might just take one out for himself.

“There was a bit of a homecoming, but I don’t know a lot of them. The sky was lonely when I was growing up. This is all new. All of them look at me as some sort of god.”

“That’s a bad thing?” He asked.

“An uncomfortable thing. Especially when they hear that said god would rather relinquish power and come frolic down in what they consider to be the desolate bowls of the realm.”

“We need to get that on a shirt,” Milo snickered. He pulled Night close, snuggling towards them. “Did you get to play many games?”

“Not as much as I wanted. I had to come home early because a certain boyfriend of mine wasn’t coping too well.” When Milo winced, they scooted closer, running a heated hand down the side of his arm. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was joking. In poor taste.”

He squirmed a little. “I know. I just hate when you have to cut things short because of me. I don’t like being ‘that guy’.”

“You physically can’t handle it, Milo. That isn’t your fault. We knew what we were getting into all those years ago.”  Didn’t make it any better and honestly, sometimes Milo forgot. Choosing instead to believe that he just wasn’t strong enough. “Maybe next time you should come with me?”

That perked him up. “Yeah?”

“Why not? It’d be nice for you to see my home.”

Rolling so he was on top of them, bracing his hands on either side, he grinned, hair flopping in his face. “We could stay for however long you want. I’d charm the stardust off of everyone there. Fix dinners. Dance. Play games. You tell me and I’ll do it.”

There was a spark of affection that took place across Night’s eyes. Milo knew they missed home badly, but being away from the market was sometimes impossible. But if he could go with them, he could help. He could soothe the worries that Night was making a foolhardy mistake. Breathe vibrancy back into the sky. And most of all, he could put Night at ease. It was possibly the best gift he would be able to give.

“Let me rest for a few days, and then we’ll think of a way to do it,” Night conceded.

Milo leaned forward, pressing his forehead to theirs.  “I’m going to frolic naked in the sky,” he promised. “Give everyone a real show.”

“I’d like to watch that.”

“Then it’s done.  Just for you, darlin’.” Then, more seriously. “:Anything for you.”

They wrapped their arms around him. “I know, Milo. I know.”