Love You As You Are

20 | Mr Stark - Flashback💭

(This is a little after Miles gets drunk, the night they had s*x for the first time. It’s more like a flashback in Mr Stark’s POV, because obviously Mr Tipsy doesn’t remember s**t).

“Anthony, this is pointless,” I murmured even though I made no move to pull away. “You’re the one that left me, remember?” I looked into his eyes. Once upon a time, I’d fallen in love with those eyes. I’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t love. He’d convinced himself that he was too broken to love and be loved. Once upon a time, I used to believe in love. Now…

Now it feels like I’m a walking shell that can only be satisfied with s*x and nothing but s*x. Perhaps, I’m the broken one.

Our families were very close when we were little. My father and his father were inseparable, to say the least. Automatically, I’d gravitated towards Anthony, completely smitten by his typical badass attitude and wittiness. Even when he was young, he didn’t take s**t from anyone. He knew when to sit and watch. He knew when to destroy. That’s how he looked so powerful. He was a force to be reckon with. He was calculative. I was drawn by that. Before him and his family moved to Seattle when he turned fourteen, I’d befriended him at school. He was known as the typical bad boy. Probably half the school were scared of him. The rest either hated him or envied him. Either way, I wanted in.

As Liam would put it, I was scrawny and miserable back in school, completely different to what I am now. Truthfully, I was a miserable fucker, living underneath my parents’ shadow, doing everything by the book. Anthony, on the other hand, didn’t shine light on whatever his parents wanted him to do, especially if he didn’t like it. He’d go rogue day and night, just to piss them off.

Needless to say, little me fell in love with the bad boy. That was the time I knew that I was bisexual. He was the first man I ever liked. As miserable as I was, I was also shy, so I kept that s**t to myself, until a few years later. When the Romans moved, I’d thought that my so-called crush on him had died, but it came back tenfold when I saw him again, at my father and sister’s funeral. I was bulking up, but it turns out I was nothing against him. Back then, I couldn’t hold back on my feelings. We were both adults, so I was determined to make my feelings known.

The situation worked in my favour when our parents paired us up, teaching us everything business. We were groomed together, so I spent majority of my time with him. He had matured from high school and quite frankly, I used to think he was s*x on legs. He was still dark and mysterious, but he was much cleaner.

And so one random night, I confessed my feelings to him. I remember my heart pounded so bad I thought I was going to pass out, as I watched his reaction. I’d kissed him right after asking him, and even though he wasn’t my first kiss, it felt like it. He’d pulled back to look me in the eye, gauging my expression before he’d kissed me back just as hard.

Now that I think about it, I don’t think I remember hearing him confess anything to me. He’d went along with whatever I did to him. I was too blinded by the mere reciprocation to notice that everything we did was emotionless. That it was one sided. When Liam finally drilled that into me, I was heartbroken. I was hurt. And I wanted to hurt Anthony.

Deep down, I knew his story. I knew why he was the way he was, and so I was pathetic enough to understand. And instead of backing off, I stayed. I stayed and I took what I could get from him. It thrilled me to be able to top him, when in the outside world, he looked to be the dominant one. Our relationship was purely s****l, and I stayed because I loved him.

One thing that I’ll always cherish between us, is that he taught me that even where there’s no love, communication was essential in our arrangement. He’d made it a priority to get me to open up if I had any issue. Even now, I carry that with me. I like to know what I’m dealing with if I can help it. That, alone, saved me a lot of heartache because I knew what I was getting myself into. I’m rusty, admittedly and I probably only catered to half of the women I’ve slept with, but I was striving to be better.

We’d finally broken things off when Anthony’s father found out about us, years later. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as it should have been. Probably because I’d grasped at anything I could get my hands on. I’d gotten a piece of Anthony, if not all and I was content with that. I knew that we wouldn’t work, even if he had tried to fall in love with me. For that, I’m grateful that he didn’t mislead me. I hold a greater amount of respect for him. He held himself high and he made his intentions known.

Of course I’d wished for more. I’d wished for love. For commitment. And I was heartbroken. But I’d like to think that I came out of that just fine. Or that’s what I think. It could have gone the opposite way. For instance, losing the most important people in my life, and having my heart broken in a way, turned me into the person that I am. Seemingly cold in the eyes of the public. I’d been closed off in hopes of protecting what’s left of myself. And so, I’d stepped back and paced myself. Losing my sister and my father like that had to have been harder. Not to mention, Emery’s three-year old daughter, who’d passed three days after her mother’s death. That was too much dead bodies in one time.

Since then, I’d basically cut off anything that dared to get close to me. To put it into words, I grew afraid of commitment and everything to do with it. I never attempted another relationship. Seeing as I’d found solace in f*****g around with Anthony, it somehow bled onto my future. Now, it’s all s*x and no feelings. I’d call a lady, explain to her what the f**k was going on and give her a choice. Most of them stuck around obviously. Otherwise I wouldn’t be known as the sluttiest man on earth, if not Liam. The fucker is as bad as I am, they just don’t notice him.

Unknowingly, I’d uno reversed this whole thing. Now, I’m doing the exact same thing Anthony had done to me. I’ve had about seven woman and one guy, who’d confessed to having feelings for me. I’d ended it immediately with them. I wasn’t going to mislead them. The irony. Now I’m the heartbreaker.

As I watched Anthony sprawled out all over me, his eyes watching me closely, I can see that he’s concerned. About what, I have no clue. I still make no move to push him off of me, probably because I’m touch deprived, and he seems to be the only one to satiate that part of me. Being this close to him right now, isn’t the same as back then. Either I’d fell out of love or I’d f*****g matured. I’d f**k him any day, given the chance, but I’m not as needy as I was before.

The feeling serves as great contentment. Peaceful. I allowed a tiny smile as I mindlessly caressed his cheek with the back of my hand. He frowns at me, a smile dancing on his lips. “What?” I shook my head.

“Nothing,”

His eyes narrow in suspicion. “Emmanue-“ he trails off, looking to my right. I follow his line of vision to see... “What happened to him?” Anthony asks, shuffling off of me as Liam sits Miles down on the sofa next to me.

“He’s drunk,” he reported. “Listen, I need to go upstairs. Just watch out for him. I was strictly instructed to look out for any bad drunk decisions,” he said. “And no more alcohol for him,”

“Oh come on Mr Kendrick, just one more,” Miles whined, holding out a swaying finger, his eyes crossing. He shook his head, as if to uncross his eyes.

Why do I find that adorable?

“Nope, one more drink means more irrational actions,” Liam said, snatching the glass from Miles’ hand. “Here, have some water and Emmanuel will be on the lookout for you, okay?”

“Nope,” he said hiccupping. I frowned at that, curious about his next words, not knowing how much they’ll sooner affect me. “I look out for Mr Stark,” he said pointing at his chest. “Not the other way around,” I know he means being my Assistant and all, but I can’t help thinking otherwise.

“Aww,” I glared at Anthony next to me, as he cooed. “Isn’t that so cute?”

“Okay but for tonight he’s looking after you, alright? No more drinks,” Liam said steadying drunk Miles, so he doesn’t fall off.

“Stingy b***h,” I laugh before I can stop myself as Liam gawked at Miles, amused rather than angered. I watched his eyes grow heavy and his head dips to the side until he settles on my shoulder, muttering, “One…more,” under his breath. For a moment too long, I look at him up closely.

I’ve never looked at Miles that way. Not since he walked in my office with the most confident, I’d thought for a second, he was cunning for the CEO position instead of the PA. He was prepared; met my question with precise and calculated intelligible answers, during the interview. After firing the last PA, I was pretty much fed of how reckless, careless and clumsy they were. It was starting to bleed onto my work, and I couldn’t have that. Some were super lazy, it was unbelievable.

The first week, Miles had arranged hundreds of files, both hardcopies and in the computer, right after fixing the damage the previous scums had caused. He’d rearranged my diary until it wasn’t recognisable. For a second, I was mad. Until I looked into it. Not only did he organise all of my meetings, according to my timeframe, he’d also made sure to clear a few hours so that I could ‘catch my breath’ as he’d said. I’d looked at him like he was drunk, until months went by, when I realised how much I needed those few hours to myself. How much I needed to ‘catch my breath’. Since then, I’d start noticing a greater difference in my life.

Whilst he was striving at the office, he’d been shitty back at my apartment. He messed up quite a few times and he’d broken my plates, out of clumsiness and possibly fear. I’d let it slide on purpose knowing what he was capable of. So I overlooked most of his mistakes.

Before I knew it, I’d put my complete trust on him by the end of the first year. I barely worry about a thing unless it concerns me directly. f**k, the man answered half of my personal emails for me now and I failed to understand how he was always so precise about it. On the second year, I’d given him a raise, thinking it was well deserved.

Not only is Miles the brains, but he has the looks to go with. He’s a neat man. Well-kept hair, always short and styled. Faded and clean. He had big innocent brown doe eyes, with a button nose. His full plump lips were always lightly glossed; his bottom lip pink. He had full cheeks that contradicted the jawline. His perfect white teeth were always on full display, even after I scolded him over a minor mistake. A part of me wanted to break him. To see how much it took to get him out of his comfort zone. To see what it took to make him crumble. The man was too good to be true. And when I’d asked my PI to gather information on him, he'd came back blank, raising my suspicious. He wasn’t troublesome, but I couldn’t take my chances without knowing. I’d gambled with my life when I didn’t fire him, even though I was suspicious.

I’m wondering how much he had to drink when a camera flash catches my attention. Turning to Anthony, I see him holding his phone out, taking pictures of us, with Miles laying on my shoulder. “What the f**k are you doing?”

“Trying to provide evidence to back up my unanswered question,” he said proudly. “Ooh he’s so adorable, isn’t he?” Anthony coos, showing me the picture. I roll my eyes at him. “What? You’re allowed to have feelings for Miles. No one said otherwise. You’re acting like he’s forbidden fruit,”

“He is a forbidden fruit,” I stated, my frown deepening. “What’s your problem? I don’t have to like Miles. And how do you even know that he’s into men?”

“Well…why don’t you kiss him and find out,” Anthony smirks mischievously.

“He’s drunk, you f*****g t**t,” I groaned, pulling out my phone.

“What? You’re telling me this man has worked for you for three years and you haven’t tapped that ass? Come on man, Miles is hot, admittedly,”

“I’m supposed to f**k every ‘hot guy’ that works for me?” I quirk a brow at that. He only shrugs.

“So you’re admitting that he is hot?”

“Hey, f**k off,” I said calling Liam. He picks up on the second right. “Listen, I’m calling it a night. I’m heading out now,”

“Take Miles with you,” Liam says immediately. “You didn’t let him drink, did you?”

“He’s out,” I said looking at him.

“Okay, see you tomorrow. I’ll probably be here all night,” I grunted a response before hanging up.

*****

I sat Miles on the couch, while he’s mouthing gibberish on my shoulder. “Stay here. Let me get you some water,” he swayed immediately after letting him go. I laid him down. “Don’t move. You’ll fall off,” I groaned when he rolls over, his legs dangling on the edge. “Seriously,” this isn’t what I’d like to deal with.

“I’m hungry,” Miles mumbled, his fingers gripping my forearm. “Hungry hungry hungry…” he mumbles the word, repeatedly tapping my arm. He snuggles my arms, his voice dropping. He digs his nose into wrist for a moment before giggling. “You smell like…” hiccup “like Mr Stark,” he slurs.

“How do you know what Mr Stark smells like?” I asked, curious about how he’s so aware about my scent, even when he’s drunk.

“I work for him,” he mumbles, his fingers caressing the arm, raising goosebumps. “His office smells like him,” he says more but I can’t hear him clearly. His grip on my arm tightens as he seems to be falling asleep. I tried to pull my arm, but he doesn’t budge, whining. “No go,” he whines. “Stay,”

“You said you wanted food,” I pointed out.

“Hungry,” he says. “Food night,” I frowned at him. “Food night,” he repeats.

“What’s food night?” I’m rather amused by his constant gibberish. It’s entertaining.

“Food night?” he asks in a small voice rolling around. I caught him before he falls off the couch. I’d accidentally grabbed his ass, but I can’t do anything about it in this situation as he continues to move. At the last minute, I decided that the floor is the best place right now. As soon as he’s seated on the floor, his head drops to my chest. He’s a lot smaller than I’d assumed, cuddled up against me. “Good night,” he mumbles. I laughed when I realised, he’s not falling asleep any time soon. “No Miles, what are you saying?” he scolds himself quietly. “Night food. I meant night food,” he says with a dazzling smile on his face as he looked up at me, his droopy eyes doing wonders to me.

“What’s your night food?” I asked him, settling down on the carpeted floor. Where the hell am I going to get food at this time of the day?

“Cake,” he piped up, smiling widely. “No, bread…” he listed off random ingredients before he reached a conclusion. “Sandwich,”

“Okay, but you have to let go so I can make the sandwich,” I said.

“No,” he pouted, clutching my shirt. I rolled my eyes. Looking down at him, I see he’s looking back at me. “Hey, you’re Mr Stark,” he said smiling.

“I am,” he giggled at that, and I wondered what he found funny. “Miles, let go,”

“No,” he said stubbornly, tightening his fingers on my shirt.

“How are you going to get your sandwich if you don’t let go?”

“You-“ hiccup. “carry,” he said. “Carry me with you,” I frowned at that.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re strong,” he said matter of factly. He poked my biceps, squeezing them. He giggled to himself as he repeated the action. “No,” he stopped himself quickly. “No touching Miles,” he scolded himself again. “Consent first,” he pushed back, leaning on the couch while folding his arms. “Sorry for touching,” his peered at me with droopy eyes.

I’m sitting here thinking about how innocent Miles is. Like even in his drunken state, he’s scolding himself for so much as touching my bicep. I find that really wholesome. Especially because no one has ever thought to ask permission to touch me. It feels like he’s giving me back control over my body.

“Sorry,” he said again, pouting. “Forgiven?” I can’t stop the smile from gracing my lips as I watched him.

“Yes Miles,” I said softly. I reached out to caress his cheek with the back of my hand and he immediately relaxed, leaning into my hand. “You’re forgiven,” the moment I say these words, his smile is back. He continues to nuzzle into my hand, and I can’t find the will to pull back.

“This feels nice,” he said. With that, I continued to stroke his cheek.

“Okay, I’m going to get you some water and a sandwich. Stay here, okay?”

“No,” he whined, gripping my hand.

“Hey now, work with me here. It’s almost one o’clock and you need to get some rest. Be good and listen to me, alright?” he huffed out, releasing my hand.

“Okay,” he said sadly.

“Good. Stay here and don’t move,”

Halfway into making sandwiches for the both of us, with what I managed to find in this kitchen, Miles called out. “Mr Stark?”

“Yeah?”

“I need to pee,”

“Why are you telling me? Go,”

“You said to stay,” he said his voice dropping.

“Go to the bathroom, Miles,” I said rolling my eyes. Not even a minute later, I hear crashing sounds followed by a string of profanities. I hurry to check and stop by the doorway, watching Miles rub his shin aggressively with a scrunched nose.

“Sorry,” he said and seconds later, he’s laughing again. “I just apologised to the table,” he said giggling as he attempted to stand up. “Crazy Miles,” I chuckled under my breath, shaking my head. “Okay, one more time,” he said bracing his hands on the said table. He swayed on his knees, losing balance. “No no focus,” he tried for the second time. And the third time before he huffed out and gave up. “Mr Stark?”

“Yes Miles,” I replied even when I knew very well what he needed.

“Don’t get mad at me, but I think I need help,” he said. “Please,” he added. I remained out of his sight for a moment, hoping for his usual ranting and I’m not disappointing. “Mr Stark?”

“Yes?”

“If you don’t help me, I’ll pee myself,” he said in a somewhat adorable yet threatening manner. “And that’s no good. I don’t want to pee myself, so please help me up,” eventually, I moved to help him, laughing to myself. “Mr Stark, it’s not good to laugh at someone,” he mumbled as I picked him up, steadying him on his feet.

“I’m not laughing at you,” I said smiling.

“Promise?” he looks up at me.

“Pinkie promise,” I said softly, and I’m reminded of the last pinkie promise I made with little Skyler before she died. I hadn’t realised how long it has been and I’d just pinkie promised Miles like it was the easiest thing to do, when in reality it wasn’t. And it was at this moment I realised how easy things happened around Miles. There’s a high possibly I’ve laughed more than I did since the accident. I’m doing things that aren’t particularly bad, without a second thought. A part of me wants to prolong this. Also because another part had taken interest in Miles’ drunk rambling. He says the most random s**t ever.

And so I promised myself to let loose and be vulnerable around Miles. Just for this night. Best case scenario, he won’t remember a thing in the morning. Worst case, he does remember, and I fire him.

I helped him to the bathroom and was about to walk out when he called again. “Mr Stark, there are no wipes in this bathroom,” he said standing in front of the toilet surprisingly steady.

“What do you mean? Use the toilet paper,”

“I can’t use toilet paper,” he mumbles. “It’s dry and it won’t clean me. I need wet wipes. Scentless wet wipes,” I frowned at that.

“Where am I supposed to get wet wipes at this hour, Miles?” I sighed. “Use the tissue for now. Or…water or something,”

“Mr Stark,” he turns to me then, sitting on the toilet, still fully clothed. “Don’t get freaky ou- no, freaked out,” I smiled, allowing the movement, seeing as I’ve been scolded for laughing. “I mean, no freak out, but I have a v****a and v*****s are sensitive. I just can’t use anything,”

“What do you mean you have a v****a?” I leaned against the doorway.

“I’m transgender,” my eyebrows shot up at that. That was the last thing I had expected. I’d thought that he was joking about having a v****a and it was all about hygiene and stuff. “Meaning I was once female and now I’m male,”

“I know what transgender means,”

“You were quiet,” he pointed out casually.

“Because I was surprised,” I confessed.

“Good surprise or ‘I’m going to judge you’ surprise?” I chuckled at that.

“No Miles, I’ll not judge you,” I said. “It doesn’t matter what you are. Matter of fact, it doesn’t concern me,” I walked in and crouched in front of him; his eyes following me. “I’m bisexual, does that bother you?” I asked him. He shook his head immediately, smiling. “Good,” I said patting his knee. “If you could give me a second, maybe I can find something for you, okay?”

“You’re really nice, Mr Stark,” he said then.

“You think so?” I asked, hating how much those words affected me.

“Mr Stark, I’ve worked for you for three years,” he said. “I know so,” I ducked my head, unable to hide the smile on my face. f**k Miles for making me feel this way. I’d thought that he was one of those people that thought I was a d**k. For all the s**t I put him through, I’d thought he hated me the most.

Suddenly I had hope.

Hope that maybe…just maybe, I wasn’t broken.

“That’s really nice to hear, Miles,” I admitted quietly. “Thank you. Although, I would have thought you hated me, considering I haven’t been nice to you,”

“I don’t hate you,” he said quickly, shaking his head. His hand began tracing the tattoos on my forearm. “At first, I thought you were a meanie, but that was before I got to know you and…your life. I think that you’re being hard on yourself sometimes and…you don’t give yourself enough credit, seeing as you’ve made it this far,” his face fell then. “Some people don’t make it to the finish line, due to…unforeseen circumstances,” I want to say I know what he’s referring to, but I have no clue. “But that’s okay,” he said his smile coming back. “You made it and you should be happy for yourself,” his fingers moves to my face, and I surprise myself by leaning into his touch.

“Sometimes, the decisions made by your elders; parental. Parents,” he stutters on the word. “doesn’t have to reflect on you as a child. And it’s okay to want to be different and do something different,” his eyes find mine and his next words knocks the breath out of me. “It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you…uniquely powerful. I look up to you, Mr Stark,” he smiles.

The smile vanishes quickly and so does his hand on my face. “No touching, Miles,” he scolds himself. “I’m sorry, Mr Stark. I like touching. It feels good and warm and caring. I like warm things. Like…hugs and cuddles. Also, your skin is very warm,” he said softly. “Do you like hugs, Mr Stark?”

“No,” I deadpanned, expecting him to be disappointed.

“That’s okay,” he shocks me. “Everyone likes different things,” I eyed him closely, wondering how I’ve gone this long without seeing this side of him.

“I wouldn’t mind a hug from you though,” I said and almost swooned when his smile widened. He made tiny squealing sounds as he threw his arms around my shoulders, forcing me to kneel on the floor. I wrapped my arms around him and felt him sigh as he melted into me. His sweet scent wafted to my nose, and I buried my nose in his collarbone, inhaling him. I can’t put a name to it, but it’s fruity and rosy at the same time. I find that I like the smell. Miles shivers slightly and I’m tempted to tease him with my lips just to get the same reaction. Instead, I blow air on the exposed skin.

“Mr Stark, that tickles,” he murmured. I hummed, blowing some more until he’s a squirming laughing mess that somehow warms me all over. “Mr Stark?” I hummed a response. “I’m sorry to break the hug, but I really need to pee now,” I chuckled lowly, finally releasing him. I don’t even know why I’m laughing, but that was so random.

“Okay, stay and I’ll find wet wipes for you,”

I started looking through the bathroom cabinet and there were only samples of sanitary pads. I went to my room next and found the same thing. For some reason, it made me upset that I didn’t know how to provide for him.

“Miles, listen, I can’t find any. Can you use a wet towel, at least? We’ll get them first thing in the morni-“

“My bag,” he said. “I have them in my bag,” I’m almost out of the bathroom when I hear him mumble, “Why didn’t I think of that in the first place?” I couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled in my chest.

"Silly Miles."

*****