csi_sanders1129 | Fic: After Midnight (Reply)

Title: After Midnight
Chapters: 1/1
Author:

csi_sanders1129
Genre: Romance. Fluff.
Ratings: T
Word Count: 1,758
Pairings/Characters: Milo Giambetti/Damian Spinelli, mentions of Ellie Trout.
Synopsis: In which Milo returns to the hospital roof to find Spinelli all alone.
Comments: [Coda to 1/2/13 episode], AUish from when Milo leaves. Also, assume that Ellie just didn’t show up as opposed to Ellie not showing up because no one in Port Charles should be allowed a driver’s license. And I know, I’m ridiculous, but they were so cute and I don’t have Jason anymore and I couldn’t help myself. Here is a link to the Spinelli scenes from that day. Characters not mine, please enjoy! Comments are awesome.

Milo gets halfway to the Haunted Star before he realizes he doesn't have his phone. He doesn't remember when, exactly, he took it out of his pocket, but he's sure he left it on the hospital roof with Spinelli. He considers just leaving it there - surely Spinelli will find it and return it to him - but if Ellie does show up, then he might be a little too distracted to notice and if she doesn't, then he might be a little too drunk to notice and he really doesn't want to have to go buy a new one if his is taken or destroyed. A glance at the clock tells him that it is nearly midnight and he reluctantly turns the car around to head back to General Hospital, surrendering all hope of ringing in the New Year with some pretty girl at Lulu's party.

Midnight comes and goes as he's parking the car, in the same spot he only just abandoned, and it's already over by the time he starts back toward the roof, jogging up the stairs.

He's almost to the top when he spots it. His phone. Lying on the edge of a step about midway up one of the last flights. Must've fallen out when he was dragging things up here for Spinelli.

Milo checks it, makes sure it turns on and that he doesn't have any messages or missed calls, and stuffs it back in his pocket.

He should leave now. Leave and maybe try to make it to the party.

But, he's curious. Too curious. "Wonder if she's shown yet," he mumbles to himself as he approaches the door to the roof, even though he no longer has any reason to be there. Admittedly, he is probably more invested in the outcome of Spinelli's romantic New Year's Eve plans than he really should be.

He cracks the door open slowly, just to make sure he's not interrupting anything. No music is playing, no voices are audible, he doesn't even see anyone.

At least until he spots Spinelli standing by the edge of roof, looking down on the lights of Port Charles below.

So, he notes, Ellie must be a no show.

He pushes the door open wider and it squeaks in protest. Spinelli whirls around immediately, a relieved grin on his face until he sees Milo standing there, then he's just looking all sorts of dejected and lost.

"Nothing?"

"Nope," he says sadly, "She's even avoiding my calls."

Milo sighs and crosses the roof to stand next to him. "I'm sorry, Spinelli."

Spinelli sighs and turns around, staring at the romantic set-up Milo helped him construct with all the candles and the flowers. All for nothing. He's got the bottle of peppermint schnapps clutched tightly in his hand and he raises it to his mouth to take a long swig of it. "What about you? No party?"

Milo shrugs, holds up his cell phone, "I left this here."

"Oh," Spinelli says. "Sorry."

Milo brushes off that apology. It's not like it was Spinelli's fault he lost his phone. He gestures to all the stuff he'd dragged up here and offers, "I can help you get all of this back down to the car, if you want to get out of here."

"No, I think I'll just stay here and wallow for a while. Since it appears that my courtship with Ellie has, indeed, come to an untimely end." Spinelli frowns and sits down at the one of the two chairs at the table.

Milo takes the other seat. "Mind if I join you, then?"

Spinelli passes him the bottle of schnapps in silent agreement to his request. Milo takes it, nods, and downs quite a bit of the alcohol himself, before passing it back to the other man.

"Thanks," he says, even as he steals one of the chocolates off of the plate in front of him on the candlelit table and occupies himself with watching Spinelli. He's been kind of distracted ever since he left the roof earlier (not that he really wanted to leave, as evidenced by just how long it took him to do so). He doesn't really know why - just that Spinelli's penchant for romance is kind of contagious and he finds himself wondering what Ellie could've been thinking in not showing up, why anyone would turn Spinelli down when he does things like this for them.

The alcohol, as it slowly disappears between the two of them, starts to hit Milo. He hasn't had much to eat today and he doesn't drink often, so when it does hit, it's with an impressive force that makes him feel much warmer than sitting on the roof of a tall building in December - now January - should rightly allow. Spinelli looks similarly affected by his own imbibing, his cheeks have gone slightly red and his speech is just barely slurred. He's been talking this whole time - about moving on and giving up on Ellie even though that's not how he expected tonight to go.

"Spinelli," he interrupts, even though he doesn't know what he's going to say.

"Hm?"

"You wanna dance?"

This request clearly throws Spinelli, who looks at him curiously for a long moment before he shrugs and stands, offering a hand like he did earlier when they were play acting all of this out for Spinelli's rehearsal.

And, well, Milo is a good dancer. He knows Spinelli is, too. But alcohol seems to damage their coordination considerably because Spinelli stumbles into him twice within the first few seconds of the song - not Moonlight Sonata, but some other slow, instrumental thing, instead. It's different than earlier, when they stayed as far apart as possible for the awkward, spinning dance moves. Closer, slower. He trips into Spinelli toward the end of the song and nearly sends them both to the floor (although, he supposes, the fact that they'd traded the empty schnapps bottle for the champagne probably has something to do with that). Milo catches them on the wall by the door, unintentionally traps Spinelli between himself and the cold cement and this is so not what he had planned when he agreed to help Spinelli with this whole thing tonight. He should've just said no and gone straight to the Haunted Star and found some girl to spend the night with.

But he doesn't like saying no to his friends and Spinelli is definitely counted among those. And he's already explained that girls tend to brush him off for relationships that last longer than a night and maybe he wants something more than that. This is... different, and he doesn't actually know what he's doing - judging by Spinelli's floundering hands, he doesn't know what he's doing, either - and he's a little too drunk to care about much of anything right now.

"Milo?"

He steels himself and settles his hands on Spinelli's arms, keeping him in place, and moves a little closer.

"I thought you said you didn't want to kiss me?" Spinelli asks, confused as Milo's intentions start to sink in. "Who'd wanna kiss me on New Year's Eve, anyway?"

"Well, I want to now."

When Spinelli doesn't have anything to say to counter that, he does just that. Presses his lips against Spinelli's in something that should barely count as a kiss at all. But then Spinelli surges up and kisses him back and it certainly qualifies after that.

He's dimly aware of the fact that the clock is striking one instead of midnight, but Milo figures it's close enough.

"Mm," Spinelli groans against his mouth, his hands landing on Milo's hips - his touch feels like fire, even though they layers of his clothes (and maybe he'll admit to imagining what it'd be like to have his hands on skin, instead, what it'd be like to get his hands on Spinelli). And it's Spinelli who deepens the kiss, opening his mouth to let Milo in and he's not at all surprised to taste the familiar flavors of peppermint and chocolate and the lingering burn of alcohol there.

And they've moved. He doesn't know when they shifted, but now he's got a hand curled into Spinelli's hair and it's about the only thing separating Spinelli's head from the wall, which he is thoroughly pinned to now. Milo's body is all pressed up along his and it's... it's nice, honestly. Spinelli's all harder lines and pointy bones and chapped lips when he's used to soft curves and smooth skin, but he thinks he likes this just as much, would like to keep doing this as long as Spinelli will let him.

"That was..." Spinelli starts, when they pull away from the kiss. He's looking pretty debauched, with messed up hair and swollen lips, and yeah, Milo thinks, he'd like to do that again.

"Good?" Milo offers.

Spinelli wavers slightly, "that's not quite as descriptive an adjective as I had planned, but yes. Good is a modest explanation of what that was."

It takes a second to run the Spinelli-speak through his mind (maybe more than a second - he's a little overwhelmed and more than a little drunk, after all) but when it processes, he grins and kisses him again.

And again.

Slowly, as they sit on the roof trading kisses back and forth, the cold starts to work its way into their bones, combating the effects of the alcohol enough to make them want to flee the rooftop as the temperature drops even lower - snow flurries are even falling, now, from the fogless skies.

"My place is just down the street," Milo says slowly, watching Spinelli's reactions carefully as he proposes his idea. "Max is out for the night and we can walk there. I don't think either of us is up for driving."

"Okay," Spinelli agrees, grabbing Milo's hand once they're both on their feet. "Let's go."

Milo leads the way down through the hospital and past his car, out onto the street toward the building where his apartment is located and keeps his hold on Spinelli's hand. He doesn't know where this is going, what Spinelli wants and if he'll want anything at all come morning when the alcohol wears off and they're both facing reality once more. But for now, Milo's not sorry at all that he missed the party because it turns out that being left with no one to kiss but Spinelli on New Year's Eve is definitely not a bad thing.