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Milo hummed into the kiss, holding onto it for as long as Cooper would let him. He didn’t know what else to do, the drive in him to do something stupid, to fuck it all up before Cooper could, well, he was trying his best. Their former friends would be pissed at Cooper, that much was sure, and Milo would have to berate them for being jealous. It was all a scenario in Milo’s head – he could see it. He’d deal with that when it came, however, his arms falling around Cooper’s waist now as he pulled them impossibly closer. 

Addiction was never thrown away over night, and while he’d been in and out of the hospital throughout the years, they’d fixed him up and sent him on his way. It was easy to stay in shape when he barely slept, barely ate – a chaotic jumble of a life, and he’d somehow ensure Cooper would be there for the ride. The other was trying to convince him, and Milo let himself be convinced for once, “Okay – less talking, now. We’re in a hot tub and you’re naked – how am I supposed to focus?”

There had never been any sort of shortage when it came to the passion department, and it would have been clear to anyone that looked at them, in the way that they had never been able to keep their hands off of each other. While Cooper may have been a tad more reserved in his actions, their friends and family had always seen the way they held each other, the way they looked at each other. And that was likely the hardest part in what Cooper had needed to do all those years ago. To break off what they had had because of another choice that Milo had made, even if the other promised it had been for the betterment of both of them.

Milo frowned again, but he didn’t move from where he was resting his head on the other’s chest. It’d been so long, for someone who craved intimacy and never got it unless he was messy enough to pretend. That had happened, plenty of times, and sometimes a guy had good enough abs that he’d take a line and forget why he asked them to stay. His gaze drifted to the little box he’d brought that sat next to his sunglasses, before he brought his and Cooper’s mouths together one more time in a kiss.

“Promise it doesn’t hurt, babe. What hurt was you – not having you.” Would he change what happened? Absolutely not. He got what he wanted, but it was a lonely, lonely life. And he’d drag Cooper down with him until he hit rock bottom, perhaps. “But I’ll try, yeah? I’ll try. I’ll try for you.”

Fingers continued to move against Milo’s head, putting just enough pressure as they remained in that same position. But Cooper wasn’t complaining, for there was nothing wrong in that department. If they could have forgot about the rest of the world, forgot about their problems and addictions, then maybe, just maybe, Cooper could have stayed just like that. And just as he thought that the want couldn’t get any better, Milo had lifted his head so that their lips could meet once again. His hand slipped down, just as the other lifted so that both framed Milo’s face as he deepened the kiss that much more.

Milo wasn’t sure he believed Cooper, now. There were too many gears turning in his head, so much insecurity packed on from layers and layers of self imposed trauma. “That’s not what you just said,” he didn’t want to panic, didn’t want to risk it all again. The paranoia ran deep, and his hands finally gripped Cooper’s thighs for stability. He leaned into the touch again, the thought of rehab terrifying him as well. Him? Another failure of a celebrity? The magazines would go nuts. He couldn’t do that to himself. 

He didn’t look convinced, of anything really, but he was addicted to the idea of having Cooper around now. It was there, within reach, and perhaps once the other saw how much fun this life could be, well, then there would be no reason to be apart. He couldn’t wait to repeatedly fire whomever Cooper hired, but he leaned forward resting his cheek on the other’s chest. He listened to Cooper’s heartbeat, closing his eyes eventually, “I just don’t get why it’s a problem.”

Cooper knew that he couldn’t keep hiding his thoughts from Milo, not if he expected the other to understand where he was coming from. Or why he was being the way that he was. But he needed to think about his words carefully, needed to ensure that he said exactly what he needed to in the gentlest way possible. So he kept quiet, as Milo’s hands fell onto his thighs, as his head rested against his chest, all the while thinking over his words.

Milo frowned once more, not liking that word either. Stipulation. “So you love me but – it’s conditional,” he clarified, leaning back now even as Cooper ran his fingers through his hair. The touch was nice, gentle, it was all he ever craved. He loved the way Cooper did almost anything, really. Laughed, smiled, concentrated on lyrics, songs – but Milo would say anything to make him stay. If this was how it had to be, anyway. He hated how distracted he was by Cooper’s fingers, even though he’d removed his own hands and let them sit on the edge of the hot tub. This was unfortunately the sober Milo, the one that was no fun – at least, that’s what he’d been told before.

“I don’t have time for rehab, Cooper.” It’d been offered before, he remembered. Sometimes a manager would push it towards him, then he’d fire them. It was an easy way to be rid of them. “I have so many shows – they’re – I can’t cancel them for a month.” His knee started to bounce again, jittery without anything to calm him down. Milo had to move his gaze to Cooper again, if just to have something to concentrate on, “What if I’m – not as good? Without it all.”

Damn, Cooper knew he should have used a different word. Something other than one that Milo could grab onto, and twist and turn to how he needed it. “No, that’s not --- it was the wrong choice of word,” he stated, teeth caught at the inside of his cheek. He needed to think more carefully of the words that he chose to use, or how he made sure he got his point across. Any slip up wouldn’t do good for the conversation. “I love you for you, no conditions or requirements,” but being with him, that was an entirely different story. For Cooper couldn’t simply stand by and watch Milo drink or snort or smoke his way into a hospital bed.

Milo froze, like the water was cold, and no longer warm and keeping them together. Help. How did he need any help? The drugs helped him through it all, the drinking only exacerbated how alone he felt – what if Cooper left him again? But he started getting jittery once more, his hands everywhere on the other’s body all at once. If he could do Cooper as a distraction, then perhaps getting clean wouldn’t be all that bad. “You’ll come with me?” he smiled now, brilliant and blinding as his eyes lit up. That was everything he really wanted, to not be alone if the other didn’t wish to be with him. He bumped their noses once more, “I’ll make it great for you, baby, I promise.”

The lingering question was there, whatever complications Cooper was trying to introduce. Or perhaps intervention was the correct word. Milo didn’t have time for rehab, but he’d amuse Cooper for now – how else would he be able to get the other to come with him? “Help,” Milo pretended to try out the word, like it was a new one, and he met the other’s gaze with interest, now. “What do I need help with?” Milo narrowed his eyes now, his grip falling from Cooper’s body. He felt slightly betrayed, slightly out of touch. It hadn’t been an issue before, had it? No, they all let him do a line, said nothing as he barely stood up straight – called him reckless, stupid – he knew they did. They always did. “I can’t – What if you leave me again?”

And the next moments went exactly as Cooper had expected them to, with Milo’s words going from one place to the next, with him seemingly only focusing on the part where he’d agreed to go to the next concert. “If you agree to the stipulation,” he affirmed, for he was not going to let it go, not going to allow Milo to talk him out of it or skirt around what Cooper was asking for. Perhaps if Milo got clean, then maybe he could really look past the rest of it. Forgive him for leaving the band high and dry for his own solo career. It was a large if, but Cooper was willing to test the waters, so long as Milo agreed to his terms.

Milo leaned into the touch, but he was starting to feel like he was less than enough for Cooper. Perhaps the other wanted a boring life. A mundane one, with his movies, and his popcorn, and his…whatever it was normal people did on a weekend. Milo felt like he rarely had time for himself, and when he did, he was constantly in trouble or getting berated for how he wanted to spend his time. The drugs didn’t do anything to Cooper, so Milo wasn’t sure why it was such a big deal. Milo knew what would happen, now. They’d fuck a few more times, Cooper would fall asleep, and Milo would slip out in the early morning hours. He had to leave him behind and see if Cooper even bothered to come after him.

“But we could be,” Milo frowned, looking down between them now. He hated being alone, more than anything, and it’s how he got so bad in the first place, perhaps. Despite his friends being there, despite Cooper being there, he’d fallen into the madness to keep up with it. Always having to speak in interviews, having to take the brunt of it, he couldn’t keep up. His only constants were the drugs, and he wasn’t going to give that up if Cooper was holding him hostage like this. He sighed, “No. Whatever you want, Cooper.”

Milo had a tendency to be unable to leave well enough alone, always pushing and prodding when something didn’t go exactly as he had wanted. It wasn’t a habit that Cooper detested, for he had learned long ago how to live with it, but he did find himself constantly having to redirect the conversations, to steer Milo towards something other than what he had set his mind to. “Not right now,” which wasn’t an outright no, and Cooper was hoping if he left the possibility there that Milo would let the conversation drop. For now, at least.

Milo gave a small grin, seeing how that fit his other half. No matter how much distance Cooper tried to put between them, Milo would close it, inch by inch, until he was finally back where he belonged. Cooper had said he was enough, so again – there was a lot being said, and nothing being said at all. He bumped Cooper’s nose again, waiting for him to open his eyes so Milo could wink at him, “You mean eight hours isn’t enough?” It was a small joke, one where Milo was trying his damndest to be understanding. That word meant little to him, but for Cooper, he was apparently able to do a lot.

What would happen if Milo gave him a week? The singer knew he would fall, and fall hard, in a way to get him through the shows and the traveling. Sometimes he’d get so high he’d vaguely remember the journey from one place to another. Maybe that’s what he’d have to do, stumble through a week. “Closure?” The word hung between them, said with some bit of surprise. “Are you breaking up with me?” Milo frowned now, though they weren’t even together at the moment, “How long?” He whispered, their faces close once more. “A day? A week?”

The bump to his nose again had his eyes finally opening, his gaze directed to Milo, and to the wink that greeted him. A soft smile held firm to the corners of his mouth, though Cooper started to wonder if it was even wise to be here, in that spa or in that hotel room. Perhaps it would have been better had he gone home the moment that Milo had finally left the dressing room. Or perhaps it would have been better had he not come in the first place, to the dressing room, that is. “Unfortunately not,” he breathed, his hand resting on the side of Milo’s neck now. 

There were plenty of questions he wanted to ask, to bring up and force Cooper to tell him some way, some how, the he didn’t want some kind of future together. But those words weren’t there, and Milo frowned once more. There was a strange feeling in his chest, and he tried not to sour his mood. They were all jealous of him, they always had been, clearly. The only reason Cooper didn’t watch was to probably spite him, after all. Milo looked wildly offended, but at the apology, his features softened. He’d make him watch the next one. “There’ll always be another,” he said with a small smile, thinking now that Cooper would be beside him on the red carpet anyway. He always did look great in a suit.

“Just for that?” Milo was hanging off every word of Cooper’s, trying to focus as his knee began to bounce beneath the water. It was hard staying still, his nerves alight with anxiety, with nothing to calm him. Just a very naked Cooper. His knee went still when the other began to speak of the different lyrics, of the mournful words that he’d pieced together in their time apart. They were poetic, but Milo didn’t want to hear his other half drown himself in such sorrows. “I’m sorry,” he said for god knows how many times that night. His hand was placed now on the other’s chest, “But we can change this, Coop. We can be together. You told me you wanted that.” Milo bumped their noses together now, but he didn’t kiss the other one, not yet. He’d wait, as he always did, for Cooper to come to him first. His other hand trailed down the other’s back, “Why are you really here then, Coop?”

There was so much that Cooper wanted to say in the moment, wanted to express to Milo but he knew how carefully he needed to tread around the other. Milo had a way of spinning words as he pleased, had a way of making one regret their words the moment they were spoken. And Cooper didn’t want to be accused of being ungrateful, or jealous, or any number of what he had once been called during one of their many fights. So he took every moment he could get to formulate his thoughts, to gain an understanding of what he wanted, and what he needed to say to Milo. But first, the lyrics were being offered up to the other. 

Milo leaned into the touch, his blue eyes once more shining with unshed emotion. He felt too safe in Cooper’s arms, too vulnerable, and he had to try and keep it together. He didn’t have a line next to him to ease his nerves, no. He’d trapped himself as much as he’d trapped Cooper. Cooper was all he wanted when he was gone. When he was killing himself with work, with everything thrown at him. “I thank you, every time. Do you ever watch?” The grammys, the award shows, he always gave a shout out to Coop. It’d led to plenty of gossip throughout the years, but Milo never cared about the fallout from what he did or said.

“You sound so…convinced,” he said finally, leaning back a little and taking Cooper with him. They were impossibly close once more, skin upon skin, warm water and a view – Milo wasn’t sure what else Cooper could possibly want from him. “Is this all I am to you, then? A pity fuck because you don’t actually want to be with me?” Blue eyes turned steely, like it would be an issue if Cooper said something wrong. And it would be, but Milo wasn’t letting go just yet. “Yes, yes it’s the right time. Tell me. I want to make things right. You promised me we were it – I want you to prove it.”

“No, I don’t,” he admitted, though his reasoning truly had nothing to do with Milo. The awards had never been important for Cooper, his own gratification coming from when his songs were sung, when he could hear his lyrics over the radio. He didn’t care about awards or where his songs fell on the charts, for he had only ever wanted to make music that people could enjoy. Music that would speak to whoever needed it in the moment. He had only ever cared about awards because Milo cared about the awards, “I’m sorry.” 

Milo ran his hands up Cooper’s back, sighing now as he traced idle patterns into the other’s skin. That all sounded so mundane, the way Cooper spoke about it. Milo couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually sat down long enough to watch a movie. Usually he’d put one on to drown out the noises. The too loud noises from the other people in the hotel, the ones in his head when he let the intrusive thoughts get the better of him. “You said so yourself. That you missed me, too.” 

There was a point, here, that Milo was getting to. It was a dangerous one, perhaps. But he wasn’t going to let Cooper go that easily. “Hey – we were going to do great things, remember?” He sounded sad, which he was, but his mind was elsewhere at the moment. Looking down slightly, Milo searched for the right words, “Tell me about these songs.”

-

Perhaps he had let them venture too far into dangerous territory, perhaps he had entertained some idea in Milo’s head that he hadn’t even realized. Though, Cooper had always known that Milo wanted them back together, that the other had always wanted him right beside him. If only it could all be that easy, to simply be by Milo’s side for every concert, through every new tour, whenever he won his next big award. Cooper had once wanted all of that, to be there for it all and then some. But life had never been that easy, not for the pair of them. “Yeah, Mi, I missed you. I really did,” he stated, a hand lifted to drift the back of his fingers down the other’s cheek.

Milo took it in stride. It was just another way to change Cooper’s mind. The real dramatics would come in the morning if his ex decided to deny him then. He moved closer now, picking up where Cooper had left off with his pants. “Right, sorry. I forget things sometimes,” he admitted with a shy smile, though it was anything but as he pushed the other’s jeans off of narrow hips. “I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to, though,” he murmured, voice quieting as he finally shed the rest of his clothes. The spa was on already, and he held a hand out, waiting for Cooper to get in with him.

He pulled the other closer, arms encircling Cooper’s waist as he leaned back against the side, the warm water enveloping them. “So what are we going to do, then?” he murmured, meeting the other’s gaze. Milo didn’t want to beg, but he didn’t understand either way. “We’re good together, you know. You and me. You keep me…focused. That’s really, really hard.”

There was a moment, where Cooper considered pushing Milo’s hands away, where he considered collecting his forgotten clothing and leaving the hotel room. But he was hypnotized, by Milo and all the ways that he could make him forget about the bad that had been in their relationship. His pants were undone, pushed down past his hips until they bunched up near his feet. “Milo, please,” he warned, not wanting this one evening of fun to turn into an evening that the both of them would regret.

Perhaps the truth of the matter was – Cooper should’ve never gotten in the car with him. But alas, Milo was biding his time. He always did. He’d gotten Cooper this far, and he didn’t want to ruin that. “I ordered everything on the menu for you, baby. All of it.” He grinned against Cooper’s ear, placing another kiss there against his neck before he released him. Pulling off his sunglasses, he tossed them to the side. Next came his sweatshirt, and he walked backwards in front of Cooper, towards the balcony, “A bath? In the spa, right? Or did you want an actual one?” He tilted his head, waiting for Cooper to follow once more. He always did, and it made Milo smirk each time. “D’you remember the last time we were in one of these?” His pants came next, and he tossed those along as well. 

“I remembered your favorite – chocolate cake.” No, that was definitely Milo’s favorite, but that didn’t matter. “Coop – you’re going to fucking love the jet, you know that? It has everything you’d ever want. Drinks all the time. We’re going to live it up, baby. San Francisco tomorrow – you want to come on stage? I have a stylist that can help out, you know. She’s great.”

-

Of course he did, because when did Milo not just take everything to the extreme. At least this time, it was as innocent as simply giving them the opportunity to overindulge in food. “Yeah, the spa,” he affirmed, following after Milo, all the while working himself out of the sweatshirt he had on. It was tossed to the side, out of sight and out of mind as he focused on his shoes next. The question, however, caught him by surprise, for Cooper couldn’t remember the last time they had. He had remembered the various hotel rooms, and the different food items that they had been able to try, “No, I don’t, actually.”

Milo wondered what that was like. To live so rent free in someone’s head that for three years Cooper continued to write songs about them. It was heart warming, really. Milo knew that had been the case. It had to have been. He’d made a home for himself in Cooper’s chest, and it would take far more than a silly little breakup to get rid of him. “We can talk about them. In the hotel room.” He sounded cheery about it, like it wasn’t that big of a deal that all of his lyrics were depressing as fuck. After all, Milo was here now, and he’d make it all better. 

Cooper was basically pushed into the car by Milo now, They had no time for being bothered, the separator up between them and the driver as Milo basically crawled onto Cooper’s lap now. Who needed a seatbelt when Cooper had him? There was little time to be wasted, Cooper was stuck in a car with him now, basically at the other’s mercy. Milo captured Cooper’s lips in another hard kiss, “It’s always been my sweatshirt, silly,” he teased, unable to keep his hands off of the other for even a second. Perhaps the other was lucky that the drive to the hotel was minimal.

They managed to make it in one piece, though perhaps most of Cooper’s clothes were once again messed up, pants unbuttoned – Milo’s doing, before he was off of the other male and out of the car. “Come on – it’s time for your surprise.” Milo made his way past the entrance, his hood pulled up, sunglasses on his face, the security following them down the hall. It was easy to breeze by people, ignore anyone, until they got to the door that held all the fun stuff behind it. Putting his hands over Cooper’s eyes, he grinned, “Ready?” He pushed the doors open, but – there wasn’t anything really outstanding about the penthouse suite. Milo was just dramatic, over animated, and slightly high. He pushed Cooper forwards, laughing now as he shut the door behind them. “There’s a balcony with a spa on it. We can see the whole fucking city, Cooper. Isn’t that amazing?” All of Milo’s suitcases were in there, all ten of them, plus an extra empty one. He came up behind Cooper now, wrapping his arms around him from behind, “So what do you want to do first?” He was going to list off the drugs, but he’d save that. Special surprise and all.

-

One minute, they had been in the hallway, talking about the song lyrics Cooper had finally confessed to. The next, they were in the car, with Milo crowded onto his lap, damn near stripping him once more in the backseats. Yet not a single complaint fell from his tongue, for it was too preoccupied with kissing Milo, with tasting the other and taking everything that was given to him. There had been no time for any of the food in the car, no time for even talking as they pawed at each other like two high school students on their prom night in the back of a limo. And it would have been obvious to any onlookers, given the state that Cooper was in when they finally had reached the hotel, when he stepped out of the car and immediately needed to adjust damn near everything. 

The hood of his jacket was tugged up, pulled forward as much as he could get it, before he was following Milo through the hotel. It was like a case of déjà vu, of all the hotels that the band had gone to during the few tours that they had gotten. Most of them hadn’t exactly been the best out there, but for a couple of kids, it had been more than they could have dreamed about. Now, the lobby, the hallways they walked down all seemed so lackluster. That is, until they reached the doors to the room that Milo had been given. And as promised, Cooper closed his eyes even as Milo’s hands moved over them. “Ready,” he breathed, before he heard the doors open. He waited a beat, before his eyes opened to take in the room that he was told was a surprise. Much of it was the same as any other, but the view --- yes, the view was magical. Breathtaking, really. Drawn further in, he inhaled as he took it all in, “It is, Milo.” But it wasn’t the same, not like it once had been. Though, those were thoughts that would only damper the mood, and Cooper didn’t feel like getting into it with Milo. His hand lifted to rest against one of the other’s arms, fingers curled around it tightly, “How about a bath? And maybe some room service?”

Milo smiled slightly, “You think people hate our songs? Not at all. They still play them on the radio sometimes.” Every now and then he’d hear a throwback, but the fans went nuts for the oldies. The ones that had followed him. Of course, they weren’t as popular as his singles, but Milo didn’t feel the need to point out the obvious. “If I record it, put some music to it – I can sing them.” He didn’t like the sad look in Cooper’s face, the way his eyes dimmed at the idea that he would have to share with Milo. 

He leaned forward to press another kiss against Cooper’s mouth, sighing into it as he tried to ease how strung up he felt. He was riding off the high of his orgasm, of how his body would be sore, but it wasn’t enough just yet. Milo pressed one final quick kiss on Cooper’s mouth when the knocking became insistent. Sighing dramatically, he gave the other a wink before he finally opened the door. He brushed past the person without a word, beginning to walk towards the exit and talk to Cooper at the same time, simply expecting him to keep up. “I wear it to bed,” he admitted, “And sometimes on the jet. But anyway, are you hungry? There’s loads of food in the car. And when we get to the hotel, you have to close your eyes. It’ll be amazing. You’ll see.” He got to the car door, someone opening it for the two of them. Milo stood in Cooper’s way now, “Promise? Promise me you’ll let it be a surprise?”

-

There was never an option to keep anything from Milo, for the moment the other understood something wasn’t being said, he knew how to keep at it. And as more was said on the matter, Cooper finally just decided it was better to give in, “They’re sad songs, alright? About us, about how I was feeling with --- well, everything. Or not, everything. But ---,” he didn’t know how to explain it, didn’t know how to say that many of the songs were in some way a reference to what had happened. “I don’t --- it’s all I’ve been able to write these days,” and he almost hated having to say it, having to make that known to Milo. But maybe having this closure would be different, maybe come morning, Cooper would have another theme to write lyrics to.

The kiss was not a surprise, and though Cooper had known it was coming, he felt as if he didn’t deserve it. Not after his confession. But he let it happen, even kissed Milo back. And again, when the other came back once more, seemingly unable to not in the moment. Though Cooper was hardly complaining. And he only smiled when the knocking got louder, more insistent given that they had still remained hidden away in the dressing room.

It was a matter of seconds, before Milo was breezing out of the dressing room and down the hallway, forcing Cooper to nearly job to catch and keep up. “Guess that means it’s your sweatshirt now, huh?” There was a playful grin curved to the edge of his mouth, for Cooper wouldn’t have demanded it back no matter what Milo did with it. “A little bit. And got it. Close my eyes once we’re at the hotel,” he reiterated, before a chuckle parted his lips. “I promise. I’ll close my eyes and let it all be a surprise.”