council couple

Milo had quieted down when he realized Vince wasn't quite running so much as dragging his feet along and, as he'd thought, feeling bad. There wasn't much room with Vince lying there, but he sat at the edge of the bench and gently touched him, not caring if he'd get swatted for it. "I'm not going away. I've already done that enough, right? You're hurt."

He thought for a moment, making a slight face, then biting his lip and just, swallowing that down. "You don't have to help me, and if you don't need me, fine, but I could help you. I'm already feeding you, I got the groceries, I just have to go get again then bring it home. There's mozzarella sticks and everything. If you have any more posters to sabotage, or, I don't know, spiders to put in gift bags, just…" He shrugged. "I can do that, for you. I know you don't need it. But I'd like to, now. I'm sorry. I love you."

Milo kind of froze up, all levels of terror and concern sinking into him. He pressed a hand to his temple, then raked it through his hair anxiously. Ohh no, no no no no. "V-Vince," he said, voice higher pitched and a bit choked. He teared up quickly too, and rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. He didn't want to see him like this. He didn't want to be the cause. "Fuck! I was supposed to be safety after all the shit you've gone through, not another fuckup," he said, babbling out loud now.

"I wasn't ignoring you, I thought- you leave too, you're not always around, I didn't want to always be waiting in an empty house. I just have a few activities going because I don't… want to look pathetic next to you, I want to be a match, and you're so… smart, and talented, it's- I'm not ignoring you! I'm right here. Please, I--"

He wanted to hold him so badly, but he was scared. He didn't want to hurt Vince more than he'd already been hurt. He didn't want to be a monster, even though he knew he was, fingers digging into his legs hard enough to send jolts of pain through his body. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to. Tell me how to make it up to you. Please? I'm sorry, I know I'm selfish, I like you too much, I love you, I need you? I miss you constantly, I don't even deserve you. I'm trying to be m-more of a person for you, 'cause when I'm alone, I'm not one. Solid and supportive, someone you can lean on and who can stand on his own, not dump his stupid shit on someone having a worse time."

He flushed, hands hovering in empty air above Vince, wanting but trying, trying not to force, not to be so violent as he knew he naturally was. "I can't leave you. Anyone and anything but you. Being here is surreal, I don't quite believe I'm not still back home, under my bed and sobbing until my eyes dried out and hoping my mom won't find a reason to hurt me. As far as I'm concerned, it's all temporary, and I have to be at peace with that, otherwise I'll break. You aren't temporary, you're the only thing in the world that isn't temporary, no matter what. I want to get married already. I want to spend my entire life with you, which is why sometimes, I can cope with not being around for small bits of time. Nobody's ever going to have as much time with me like you do and will, or be this close to me, it's--"

"I'm so sorry."

Milo was shaking. When Vince started talking, he slowly stopped. The tears, however, were still coming, but he was very quiet. He turned everything over in his head, and it wasn't that he was hesitating or distant, simply thoughtful.

"I told you back then, didn't I? I'm… I know I get ahead of myself, and I love you too much, and--" he breathed. "I'm not… looking for a reward. Remember? It's hard. It's hard not to bask in you, or hope, or feel happier than I ever have with you loving me. If you really want me to back off, I could. I don't want to. God, I don't want to, but I could, for your sake. If you still let me leave you food and quietly check in on you and..."

"You're not too messed up, and if you are, I don't care. You have been trying, and doing better than you think, but I won't. Force." He swallowed. "And I… you don't have to forgive me. I won't ask for that, I wouldn't dare. I-I'm glad you already gave me what you have. It's-" He sniffled and wiped his eyes again. "You don't owe me anything. I owe you a lot, though. You're my most special, most trusted, most loved. Thank you for even having looked at me when I've screwed up so much."

"I won't talk anymore, I'm sorry, I'm just rambling pathetically," Milo said. He felt a stab in his heart at the last comment. He bit his lip. "…No. No. Wait. Don't say that. I've been- I've been looking into things, there are a lot of-- you aren't dying, and you aren't going to suffer this much forever. I won't allow that. I can't watch it, fuck, this is Manta Carlos and I've--" His cheeks reddened. "Fuck Al. I've talked to him! I'm working on it. He doesn't get to keep you, and you can get fucking rid of him without sacrificing your own existence. Fuck!"

He couldn't do this anymore. He pulled Vince up in one desperate motion and clutched him tightly to his chest, biting back another choked sob. "You aren't dying. Not after everything you've survived already. You deserve to win this."

Milo burned inside. He may have been a normally stoic, cautious man, but there was a deep intensity and aggression in him. He was violent. That was a fact, and one he'd never escape. Violent in hurting others, and more importantly, violent in how strongly he loved and dedicated himself. Perhaps he was a little obsessed. Ha. 'A little'. He didn't fucking care. There were still things he could do for Vince, and he was confident within that.

"I didn't word that properly," he said, an odd calm in his voice now, after listening. "We can't avoid a death. You're right about that, but you aren't thinking it through fully, looking past that. You'll die, but..." A sharp inhale. "Not permanently."

He couldn't keep the calm for long, once that was out in the open and he was being held so tightly in return. He continued to cry, and while part of it was from sorrow, mourning, part of it was from being furious. He wanted nothing more than to protect every inch, every part of this person. Vince was bold, but small and weaker every day, and Milo… he just wanted to be strong for him, to give him relief and then, all the brightness in the world. Milo was violent. He was a monster. He could be monstrous to the pain, to anything that tried to hurt Vince again.

(Even if that included Milo himself.)

Milo's heart beat in panicky, sharp little flutters. "I love you," he told him. He repeated it, over and over again, growing softer but with no less feeling as he went. "Thank you." Damn tears wouldn't stop. Fuck, suck it up, Milo. You're a man, aren't you? A sensitive, gay man. Another sniff. Ew, he was gross now.

He leaned into Vince's touch. "You'll get to see it. You will. And then, s-shit," he giggled, "you can become a supervillain or something, and we can have flashy fights in public. Then in private after we make a scene, well, you can just go ahead and take me 'cause I'm gonna get real weak in the knees. That sound good? Am I on to something here? I'm open to suggestions, too."

Milo took a few shallow breaths, scrubbed at his eyes again, and he was done. No more tears. He always felt awkward when he went on with such things for too long, it didn't suit him. He didn't exactly agree with Vince's sentiment there, but he deserved a break. Milo would be the one to focus on that, not him. He didn't need it. He just needed to be brought home for a nap and some food, and Milo would let him put the dumb posters wherever he wanted.

He hadn't been kidding about helping Vince, either, but he'd ask about that again later. Milo couldn't exactly support Vince on this ridiculousness in public, no (though he'd likely have to rescue his fiance from security guards at some point), but he could sneak a few things at home. He wasn't going to lose to Vince in terms of presidency, so he felt that he could deal with the consequences of any quiet assistance he offered now. All in all, school was now, marriage was life, so he had aspects of his priorities rather set for him.

Milo kissed Vince, stroked his hair for a while, and when the bus rumbled up, scooped him up to fulfill his request and get them both home. The bus drivers in Manta Carlos didn't tend to ask many questions, nor bother to be surprised or give anyone looks at this point, so getting on was fairly uneventful. Milo took a window seat in the back and made sure it was easy for Vince to curl up on him, maybe doze off for the ride. For that bit of time, Milo didn't talk. He just thought something over, and occasionally pressed a kiss to the top of Vince's head.

When they got back, Milo continued to carry Vince inside and deliver him to his bed. He sat down on it afterwards, and held Vince's hand. "Are you going to nap? I still have those groceries to pick up, if so, but I won't leave you now if it's going to be at all distressing."