This One Last Night
Title: This One Last Night
Fandom: Saint Seiya
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit gained. This is a fanwork.
Summary: The Gold Saints get one last night on Earth.
Notes: for toxictattoo, Yuletide 2015
One night. They'd been given one last night. Freya and Hilda had insisted on a meal as close to a feast as could be managed on such short notice. Milo was sure that food wasn't anyone's highest priority, but it did feel good to all be spending one last bit of time together. That and they had all night.
Between courses, he slipped his hand under the table to grab Camus' hand. All was, at least for that moment, right with the world. In the morning, they'd be dead again and doing what they could for Athena and the young Bronze Saints still fighting.
Milo knew each of them had considered foregoing a final night and just leaving. And yet, all had been convinced that it was okay, perhaps for the first time in many, many years, to do a few final things as simple men. Shaka had told them that, of all people.
Camus squeezed his hand. Milo squeezed back. This was nice, in its own way, yes. And interesting, too. Milo was fairly sure that not a single one of them was going to get a good night's sleep under their belts before returning to relative non-existence.
Deathmask and Aphrodite, well, even if he hadn't known, Milo had always assumed. Though Aphrodite - their surprise savior - had also mentioned a woman. Might be part of the 'teamwork' they'd all finally figured out? Though the glances being tossed in Aiolia's direction suggested a fierce three-way battle for his attention later.
He resisted the urge to actually comment, out loud, on how Dohko had not only proven he could drink the rest of the group under the table, but was also constantly touching Aldebaran. That was a story that probably wouldn't get told, however. Not beyond how they'd ended up initially finding each other.
For a brief second, as they were being served yet another course and Milo had let go of Camus to help give the maid empty dishes, Camus slipped his hand over onto Milo's thigh.
Dessert could not come fast enough.
There was a moment, after the last empty dessert dish had been cleared away, of supreme awkwardness during which, apparently, not a single one of them knew the proper thing to say.
They all looked at each other, not talking, not even silently talking, and each probably waiting for someone else to go first.
Milo was not expecting Aiolos to be the first to speak.
"I know we don't have much time left, but it's... time to retire for the evening, I believe," he said as firmly and flatly as he apparently could. His cheeks were red and Milo hadn't seen him drinking.
"I'll walk you to your room," Saga volunteered a second later, the same tint suddenly coloring his features.
There was a snort from the other end of the table - possibly Dohko - and Aphrodite bounced out of his seat. "If you two need any pointers, just let me--"
Deathmask hauled him back down mid-sentence with one hand firm over Aphrodite's mouth. "Sorry-- mostly sorry-- for that."
Milo was about to push back his chair and announce his own intentions and give Saga the save he clearly deserved, but Aiolia was already on his feet.
"I think I'm going to head off, too."
Immediately three other chairs pushed back.
"Us too," Camus announced. Well, it wasn't like there was any point in pretending they weren't just going to go get naked. No one expected otherwise from them.
Hopefully, someone had let Hilda and Freya know that it wasn't the food.
They made it back to their room, at least. They made it all the way inside and got the door closed and that was the absolute last shred of patience that Milo had left. Besides, Camus was the one with his cool hands up under the hem of Milo's shirt. It was easy to push a leg between Camus' and pin him, one hand on Camus' shoulder and the other on the door so he could lean and finally kiss Camus for as long and as hard as he'd wanted to since sometime in the middle of the day.
Camus gasped into the kiss and slipped his hands lower to trace around the waist of Milo's pants before parting his lips fully. But when he did... Milo had missed this so much - Camus' kisses, his hands tracing cool lines on hot skin, his body responding so fully despite trying to hide his reactions. Half-hard just from Camus' mouth against his, Milo broke the kiss and dipped lower, kissing Camus' neck...
"The bed is over there," Camus said softly.
"Yeah, over there," Milo replied. That would mean possibly letting go and he didn't want to let go. Besides, it wasn't like he was actually holding Camus there and they both knew it. Any actual displays of strength would have demolished the door and possibly other things.
"I'm not letting go." Milo shifted a bit and then straightened, catching Camus' hand in his when he stepped back.
"I didn't ask you to," Camus said as he tugged Milo to the bed. Milo couldn't help grinning as he was pulled onto it. Camus was on top of him a second later, at armís-length, his hair trailing down over his shoulders and brushing Milo's shirt.
"I thought I'd lost you..." Milo reached up trace Camus' lips with one finger.
"You're wearing too much clothing."
Milo wasn't quite sure what he was expecting, but he was glad when Camus leaned down to kiss him and settled his weight against Milo's body. They both had too much clothing on and... Camus' tongue was in his mouth and licking his lips and for a moment, he completely forgot about every other thing in the universe.
"I missed you so much," Milo murmured once Camus pulled back just enough that he could open his eyes and look up into Camus'. He'd never expected to see Camus again-- more than once. This was... more than he thought he could ever ask for.
"You're wearing too much clothing, too."
Milo chuckled and reached to pull at Camus' shirt. Camus sat back and pulled it off himself, revealing pale skin and familiar scars that Milo instantly wanted to trace with his tongue and kiss a dozen times.
Camus tossed his shirt aside and reached for the zipper of Milo's pants. Biting back a moan as Camus trailed his hand the length of his erection, Milo grabbed for a handful of Camus' hair but missed.
Instead, Camus leaned down to kiss and suck through the fabric and Milo couldn't hold his voice. It wasn't really like he'd need the jeans again. He could just demolish them, he could...
Camus was swift with the belt and button and zipper, though, and pushing his hand in to wrap around Milo's erection. Milo squirmed a bit. He could lose the pants and everything else at any point but he didn't want to make any sort of movement that would cause Camus to stop touching him.
"Too much clothing," Milo said quickly, hoping Camus would understand.
That, at least, got his jeans pulled down far enough so that the zipper wasn't biting into anything too important as Camus pushed back his foreskin and started sucking on the head of his erection.
"Ah-- Camus--" Milo wanted to complain about the unfairness of not being able to touch Camus, and he was sure Camus was just as aroused, along with how he was going to come far too soon because it had been far too long...
Camus sucked hard and took more of him in, his hands stroking the base and Milo's scrotum as he moved. Milo could hardly keep his eyes open, even though he wanted to watch. Camus had his own eyes shut, apparently focusing on each flick of his tongue and soft touch of his fingertips on places that were very quickly drawing Milo to the edge.
"Camus, I'm gonna--"
Camus' gaze flicked up to his own, and Milo could feel the pure dedication in his voice. "I know."
That was too much. Milo came the moment he was back in Camus' mouth. He was sure he was trying for Camus' name, but it just came out as a moan and disjointed praise as he was caught in the bliss of his orgasm. Even after swallowing, Camus kept kissing him, working down to his scrotum and then along his thigh until he paused to get the rest of Milo's clothing off.
Milo didn't think he could move. He didn't want to move. He wanted to hear Camus moan but he was boneless and lost for words and it was an amazing feeling.
Camus was naked a minute later when he curled against Milo, and Milo pulled him into a tight embrace for just a moment. If this was their last night, he just... didn't want to let go. Not quite yet. Though he did start with a series of soft kisses that turned into sucking on Camus' neck until Camus flat out pushed him lower.
"I was getting there," Milo murmured against Camus' chest. He guided Camus onto his back and then glanced furtively towards the crate-like bedside table in hopes it might offer something they could use...
Camus caught him anyway. "There's lotion," he said with a little gesture of his hand.
Milo chuckled. At least one of them planned ahead. Milo rolled and stretched, snagging the lone drawer with one hand finding what he was after. He supposed it was intended as actual lotion to combat the weather, but it would work.
Settling between Camus' legs, Milo started from the base of Camus' erection. He kissed and sucked at hard, pale skin before licking a bit upward, pausing, and doing it again. By the time he got to the head to suck away the pre-come, Camus had his hands dug into the covers and seemed unable to form any sort of coherent words. That, Milo liked. He took Camus in deep, then pulled back, sucking hard then soft and letting his tongue find everywhere that he knew Camus liked. At the same time, he got the lotion open and found it closer to a slick cream.
He was half-hard by the time he pressed a finger into Camus. Camus was actively pushing back against him by the time he added a second finger, and Milo was pretty sure he heard a few incredibly demanding words thrown in amongst the moans when he rubbed those fingers against Camus' prostate.
"I'm right here."
Milo shifted anyway and rubbed a thin layer of the lotion over himself, giving his erection a couple of quick strokes before positioning himself.
"Milo..." Camus was watching him and Milo couldn't help smiling.
"I know," Milo said as he thrust. "I..."
He paused for just a second, before pulling back and shifting a bit to be able to thrust shallowly, aiming for the same spot he knew would make Camus come. He could feel Camus' body tense and kept moving, one hand on Camus' erection stroking as best he could.
Milo was rewarded a moment later, with Camus crying out as he came hard in Milo's hand. With Camus' last little shudder, Milo paused, mostly-withdrawn.
"Need a minute?" he questioned. Camus shook his head, eyes barely open, before reaching with one hand. Milo grabbed with his clean hand, squeezing, while slipping the other hand down to add Camus' come to the lotion spread on his own erection.
After rubbing his hand clean on the blanket beside him, Milo pushed back in and guided Camus' legs up a bit more, angling himself so he could be closer. Camus kissed him greedily as soon as he could, free hand grabbing at and tangling in Milo's hair.
Milo just moved, thrusting and meeting Camus' body even as he felt Camus harden again, his erection pressed tight between their bodies. This didn't need to end - it didn't need to end, the night didn't need to end...
He came just after Camus came again, his orgasm completely engulfing him as he buried his head against Camus' shoulder.
Laying, a few minutes later, with Camus beside him, Milo at least knew he was going to die happy this time, with Camus' hand in his, and utterly, totally exhausted.
They still had the rest of the night, after all.
And Milo knew they'd use it well.
Lost for breath and half-lost for words, Aiolos stared at Saga, who seemed to be in the same condition. He'd touched himself, sure, but this was Saga, and...
He kissed Saga again, not surprised this time when the kiss went straight down to his erection, which was getting incredibly uncomfortable to have trapped in his pants, despite adjusting it more than once. Aiolos could feel Saga's arousal hard against him and they were both grinding a bit as each kiss got a little more desperate.
"M-Maybe we should have asked Aphrodite," Saga finally mumbled.
Aiolos paused. He wasn't sure what would be worse - asking, or whatever Aphrodite might be doing at that exact moment that might distract him from promptly answering.
Hopefully, they could figure it out on their own. They had all night, after all.
Drink Lemonade! Tip Your Waitress!