Who wants to sit with couples at lunch anyway?

Milo felt very, very dizzy. Vincenzo was really listening to him this time, though. "I haven't been fantastic to you either," he said quietly. Then, he started in on the rambling. "But, uh. Let's see. I really, really like you? You're witty and sharp, intelligent, shameless in sometimes awful, but just as often charming ways, and unique enough that I recognize you over ridiculous, adorable anon messages right away."

"And I don't know a lot, but I feel a need to be around you and learn more, it's… I looked this stuff up to double check, since I'd never felt it before, and the symptoms and feelings match. I don't think it's supposed to make sense, either, but you're… seeing and being near you is like sunshine? Fuck. That sounds fucking stupid, I'm sorry."

He was feeling this out as he went along, in order to explain better, but holy fuck. Saying it out loud and with more specific words, rather than just absent admiration in his thoughts, was digging him into a deeper hole. Did he really just openly compare Vincenzo to sunshine? Oh, god, kill him now, please.

Milo's eyes widened when Vincenzo got up and took his hand. He wasn't expecting that, nor the continued insistence which… wasn't even hostile leaning, like before. He stumbled a bit when he was pulled up, and before even thinking it through, was nodding. He didn't know where this was actually going, but not being in public for it seemed like an improvement no matter what. He just remembered to snatch his bag before Vincenzo started dragging him off.

Holding his hand. All the way back to his dorm room. Milo was dying. He shakily opened the door with his key when there, quietly feeling thankful for Nilesy's ridiculously heavy class schedule. He quickly ditched his lunch bag on the kitchenette counter, feeling awkward holding it. He didn't really feel less awkward when not holding it, because now he was just. Standing in the middle of his room waiting for something to happen. Still holding hands and painfully flustered, having a bit of a hard time looking directly at Vincenzo.

Milo was a bit disappointed by the hand holding ending, but far, far too distracted to dwell on it. Vincenzo was very near and now felt like he was giving off almost the same kind of heat that Milo was. Did the other's face have more color in it than usual? Although that rather frozen moment felt like it went on forever, he couldn't take long to wonder at that, either, because he was being backed into his bed.

Milo flopped down, and blushed deeply once Vincenzo was settled on top of him. Uh, hm. This was definitely starting to feel a bit different. He was warmer all over, and a far stronger sense of neediness buzzed in his head and over his skin, the haze of affection in his thoughts intensifying. He was glad he was sitting now, since his legs felt weak to no end.

At first he'd thought it was just him again, but both of their heartbeats were loud, unable to be missed in the otherwise quiet of the room. He was definitely trembling, but with the excuse of both being in love and not having any previous experience.

(Ah, whoops. Before he knew it, the word 'like' in reference to Vincenzo had mentally switched to love. Too late to take back now.)

Milo couldn't even think straight. Vincenzo was right here, pressed up against him, the only thing on his mind. He heard the words in theory, was very attracted to that voice, but was not at all prepared for the following and promised action.

Vincenzo's lips were on his, gentle. Despite the chaste leanings, there was real heat in Milo now, and all the cliches he'd ever heard were happening at once. Fireworks bursting, lighting his chest up from the inside out and leaving sparks everywhere. He met Vincenzo on this with feeling- sincere, longing, eager. His eyes had fluttered shut, and one hand reached up to caress his love's hair, the other on his jaw, holding. Returning this felt natural.

Oh. Oh, god, he was scared he'd been missing out after all, but then again… he didn't care about doing these things with anyone other than Vincenzo. Milo made a soft pleased sound against their kiss, and tried not to let his hips shift too much- no matter how much he felt the need to squirm right then. Fuck. He never wanted to stop doing this.

Milo melted into the more passionate kissing, as well as the touching- always leaning into it all, but feeling terribly timid in the same breath. Intimacy was wonderful and terrifying. He wanted Vincenzo to do a great deal of things to him, many of which he would've recoiled completely at previously. He also just wanted to hold him for a long time, maybe fall asleep curled up together. He nearly started full body shaking, but managed not to, letting little shivers take over instead.

It had to end sometime. He knew that, in the back of his mind, he just hadn't wanted to acknowledge it fully until it happened. He stared up at Vincenzo with dilated eyes and uneven clothing, both thanks to him, lips parted, and hoped the image would linger in the other's mind. Even if only a little bit. He didn't ask for much.

He briefly sat up, eyeing Vincenzo intently, then smiled, hummed fondly, and flopped back down again to stretch and enjoy his ever so lovely afterglow. His heart was still thrumming, and warmth still radiated on his skin. "Yeah, I was. I'm really into you. Thanks for the first kiss, Vince," he replied, quietly sunny, praising.

"It's flattering to have you play nice with me for that long, even if it is to cause pain. Sorry for the unpleasantness, but thank you again, really." His cheeks tinged pink. "Um. If you're going now, lunch was very nice, and this was…" He shakily breathed out. "Ah. Even nicer, while it lasted. You don't have to do anything like this again for me, I know it must be gross, but I'm... glad it was you I did this with. I'm so glad."