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"I can't get away from him." Waylon whispered as he slid into the booth next to Miles. Miles looked up from the large bite of his burger, ketchup and mustard dripping down his chin in true startled fasion. "mhua?"

"Eddie, he keeps following me. I barely escaped him just now." Miles chewed, and painfully swallowed his bite, wiping the condiments from his face and licking them from his hand. "What do you want me to do?" "Darling!" Waylon scrambled for a thought. "Act like you're dating me!"

Miles stiffened with surprise. Okay- Okay- like any other girl- (guy, guy you really fucking like) "Hey, babe." Just loud enough to make Eddie hesitate as he comes closer. "Waylie... what are you doing with this..." Eddie wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Reporter." "Oh, he's my boyfriend, I thought I told you I had one."

Eddie stood rigidly. "You said girlfriend. And you broke up with her." "Yeah, long time ago, Lisa is doing fine, by the way." Miles smiled and leaned over into Waylon space, he accepted it quite easily. (Holy shit, he's really into this- Or is he just putting on a show? Fuck-) "I think someone's calling for a tailor." Waylon smacked Miles on the chest. "Miles! But, I have to agree, see you later, Eddie."

Eddie's face has slowly turned from a plesant smiled to more of a grimace. "Fine." He turned on his heels, and once out of earshot, Waylon relaxed with a sigh into Miles chest. (Holyshitholyshitholyshi-) "Thank you." Waylon sits up, the weight's gone, but his warmth still lingered. "Yeah, no problem. Eddie creeps me out anyways." Miles shuddered as he thought about the leering glances he's seen the tailor give Waylon.

"It doesn't bother me as much as it should, it's just talking to him." Waylon looks over to the exit, trying to see if Eddie is still there watching them. He's not from what he can tell, and Waylon stands smoothly. "Mr. Upshur, you're literally saving my life."

Miles grins. "Now get out of here before he comes back." "Yeah, yeah."

-

"Miles, kiss me!" "Wait, wha-" "Miles, just kiss me!" And with no patience, Waylon fists Miles's jacket collar and drags him down. It's imperfect, messy, their teeth click (ouch) but they're kissing. (And holy shit, too!)

"Dar- Oh." (holyshitholyshitholyshit) Pride wells up in his chest as he pulls Waylon closer. (holyshITHOLYSHIT-) Waylon pulls away, still fixated on Miles and his lips. (HOLY SHIT MILES FUCKING UPSHUR, SIR YOU JUST KISSED THE HOTTEST FUCK IN THE GOD FORSAKEN HELL!!)

"Mm? Oh, sorry, Edster, whatcha need?" Miles looks away from Waylon, up at the fuming man. (Two middle fingers to you, you shit.) "Nothing, I need nothing from you. Or Waylon."

He leaves with steam spewing from his ears, and Miles can't help but laugh, and feel giddy. Waylon's still looking up at him. "You look love struck." (And fuck, he looks gorgeous, please let me die happy, let me die looking at this sexy thing.) "You kiss really well." "Oh yeah?" (You're not as smooth as you think you are, Upshur.)

"What if I say we're actually boyfriends." "Than, I'd think you'd be telling the truth." Miles grin and presses his lips to Waylon's. "Good."