THIRTEEN MILES

So, let"s recap. Both last night and this morning were a fucking mess. To be fair to himself, Miles is actually pretty proud of his performance at Blackwood"s, and Kieran even told him he did a great job after they left.

It wasn"t until they made it back to their bungalows that shit started to go south, and Miles just hopes the rest of his time on the island isn"t going to be like this. He didn"t check his phone on the car ride back, because he and Kieran had been driven back by one of Blackwood"s butlers, at his insistence, and Miles didn"t want to somehow incriminate them.

But once he was cozy in bed, he"d scrolled through his missed notifications to see eleven missed calls from none other than fucking Frank. Miles cleared his call log and deleted the voicemails without listening to them.

He"d hoped sleep would fix all his problems, and he"d be able to move forward.

Of course, that didn"t happen either, and when he woke and rushed to their filming location, his scenes had gone just as horribly awkward as they"d been going this whole time. Miles was kind of ready to throw in the towel by the end of the day, and he was grateful Octavia had told them to wrap before he just burst into tears from the stress of it all.

But this? This is, in the grand scheme of things, small, but it"s also probably his only shot at relieving any of the tension that"s bubbling in his gut.

So when he makes his way down to the beach just before dusk as he"d been instructed to for his and Kieran"s awful little fake date, gut already in knots, and sees Ethan stretched out on a chair with a cocktail in his hand while Dakota is hard at work setting everything up, he explodes. Miles storms over to Ethan, scowling down at him, every last ounce of frustration boiling up and bubbling over. Miles is honestly kind of grateful Ethan is here, and that he"s fucking off, because there"s no one else Miles can blow up at like he can blow up at Ethan.

"What the hell do you think you"re doing?" he huffs down at Ethan, exasperated and exhausted before the man even opens his eyes.

Ethan startles, his eyes snapping open and his cocktail sloshing against the side of the glass as he shoots up. He sighs in relief when he sees Miles standing over him, laughing and pressing a hand to his chest.

"Jesus, Miles, you scared me," he chuckles.

"Cut the shit, Ethan," Miles hisses, and even he is surprised at the acid in his tone. "Dakota is working her ass off, why are you sitting here, drinking on the beach, when you have a job to do?"

"Can"t a guy take a break?" Ethan scoffs, blinking at Miles like he"s being ridiculous.

And maybe he is, maybe he"s blowing all of this out of proportion, but if he doesn"t do something, Miles is going to totally break down.

"You"ve been taking a break the entire time we"ve been here," Miles sneers. "You"ve left everything to Dakota since day one, and now you"re lying around on the beach while she works."

Ethan"s eyes go dark for a moment, and Miles blinks down at him in surprise. This is nothing like the demure, innocent man Ethan has been since he showed up on Miles" doorstep, and Miles almost wants to laugh at himself for falling for it. Of course it was an act, it"s always an act with Ethan.

"Yeah, well, all work and no play makes Ethan a sour boy," Ethan sighs, his voice cold. "Maybe if I"d gotten to go to your fancy little dinner party last night, I"d have more energy to work now."

"That"swhat this is about?" Miles asks in shock. "You weren"t even invited, for fuck"s sake." Ethan sneers at him cruelly, but before he has a chance to say anything, Miles shakes his head, holding up a hand. "Just go…somewhere else. Literally anywhere else, I don"t care, just stay the hell away from me."

Ethan raises his brows and opens his mouth to argue, but before he gets the chance, Miles turns on his heel and trudges over toward Dakota, forcing a smile onto his face. He hears Ethan scoff behind him, then the clattering of the chair being folded. He doesn"t look to see where Ethan goes. He doesn"t care.

Dakota looks up with a smile as Miles makes his way to the table. She"s pretty much got it all set up, save for a few finishing touches.

"Almost ready to go, Mr. Rivera," she says brightly.

"Oh, god, call me Miles," he laughs. "I just wanted to say thanks for everything. You"ve been taking on a lot of work that"s not your responsibility because Ethan is throwing a hissy fit, and I just wanted to thank you."

Dakota waves him off with a laugh as she primps the corners of the tablecloth.

"It happens," she says with a shrug. "I"d rather be known as competent than willing to ignore what needs to get done just because it"s not technically my job."

Miles feels kind of bad for her, knowing how much extra stress she"s putting on herself, especially because it"s at the hands of someone he picked to join the crew.

"How about you let me finish up here?" he offers. "You deserve to get some rest. I probably won"t do as good of a job, but I can manage."

"Are you sure?" Dakota asks, straightening up and looking at him uncertainly. "It"s really no bother."

"Go relax," Miles says with a laugh.

She steps back, raising her hands in surrender and wishing him luck. He smiles as he watches her leave, feeling a bit better. Doing that felt almost as good as blowing up at Ethan. He probably needed both.

Miles looks down at the table and sees that Dakota had pretty much completely finished in the time it took him to talk to her, but he grins as he sets the coffee cups in front of each of the seats. They decided against dinner, wanting to actually run lines and practices, instead just planning on coffee and a walk to fulfill Octavia"s requirements of a date.

Miles is lighting the candles when he sees Kieran out of the corner of his eye, strolling across the beach toward him.

He looks ridiculously good, and Miles feels butterflies start up in his stomach. The fading sunlight casts a beautiful golden hue over Kieran"s skin, and his hands are tucked into his pockets, making his shoulders look even broader and more well-muscled than they usually do. The smile on his face makes Miles feel a bit faint.

Miles wonders if this is what Kieran would look like if they were on an actual date, then quickly shoves that thought aside.

"Hey," Kieran says, coming to a stop hardly a foot from Miles.

"Hey," Miles responds.

He feels kind of breathless, like he did the first time they did this song and dance at Dr. Grace"s. Taking a deep breath and clearing his throat, Miles does his best to ignore the way his cheeks are burning.

"Want to sit?" he asks awkwardly, feeling so incredibly off-kilter just standing there, close enough he can smell Kieran"s cologne. "There"s, uh, coffee."

Kieran grins at him, taking the seat on the other side of the small table as Miles sits. He fidgets anxiously with his own mug, the spoon still in it clinking softly against the porcelain with every movement. There"s a long stretch of silence, Miles staring resolutely down at his cup, watching the steam rise, and then Kieran sighs.

"You know we don"t have to do this, right?" he asks, pinning Miles in place with his gaze when Miles looks up.

"Huh?" Miles asks, shifting nervously. "Octavia said we should—"

"Miles," Kieran cuts him off, his eyes so intense that Miles feels almost like Kieran is looking straight into his soul. "You"re not an actor. You"re here to help the FBI, not shoot a movie. It doesn"t matter if our acting game isn"t great, that"s not why we"re here together."

Miles swallows hard, dropping Kieran"s gaze. It feels too invasive to look him in the eyes right now, like he"s going to see something he doesn"t want to. Or maybe like Kieran is going to see something Miles is trying so hard to keep hidden. He stares into the depths of his coffee for a long moment, watching little waves form on the surface when the wind kicks up. He doesn"t think he could swallow any of it if he tried.

"I"m not an actor," he agrees, "but you are. Your career is on the line, or at least your reputation." Miles shakes his head when Kieran opens his mouth to argue. "I want to do this right, Kieran."

Kieran looks at him for another few moments, almost like he"s searching for something, then stands abruptly. He holds his hand out, smiling down at Miles. He looks like he"s straight out of a book, the sun setting over the ocean behind him, hair waving softly in the breeze.

"You want to do this right, yeah?" he asks when Miles hesitates. "Let"s walk. We"ll improv."

Miles sets his coffee back down untouched, his heart stuttering in his chest. He has no idea how to improv, much less next to one of the most famous actors in the world, but maybe it"ll be easier than sitting awkwardly across from each other at a tiny table on the beach. Maybe if he doesn"t have to think so much, he"ll be able to slip into character. Right now, he just wants to get out of his own head for a minute.

He squares his shoulders, looks back up with a more genuine smile, and takes Kieran"s hand, allowing the man to pull him out of his seat. Kieran doesn"t release his hand once he"s standing, instead just intertwining their fingers properly.

Neither of them moves back for a moment, and Kieran reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind Miles" ear. The brush of his knuckles makes Miles shiver all the way down to his toes.

"C"mon," Kieran whispers. "I want to walk with you."

Miles" head swims for a moment, trying to separate Kieran from his character, what they"re doing now from reality, his feelings from his own character, but it"s all too much. He blinks once, twice, then throws caution to the wind.

Maybe, just this once, he can indulge.

So he squeezes Kieran"s hand, smiles brightly up at him, and stays just a bit too close to Kieran"s side as they walk. They chat aimlessly, both of them making up stories about their respective characters" lives. It"s actually kind of easy when Miles actually lets himself just slip into it, kind of like they"re two kids playing pretend. He sees an outcropping of rocks through a break in the trees and tugs Kieran toward it, babbling something about archeology and dig sites that sounds kind of like something his character might say. Kieran follows along easily, letting Miles lead him through the trees and toward the rocks.

"My legs hurt, let"s sit for a bit," Miles says, taking a seat on one of the larger boulders and patting the open space next to him.

"Can"t have that," Kieran says, grinning flirtatiously.

It makes Miles" heart race, and it doesn"t slow down when Kieran sits right next to him, close enough to feel the heat of his body. Their legs brush together where they sit, and Miles looks over at Kieran, all of his bravado suddenly evaporating. Kieran"s eyes are shadowed, and he looks at Miles with so much want on his face that Miles can hardly breathe. His mouth drops open, but he can"t think of a single word to say before Kieran is leaning in, stopping just an inch from actually touching him.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers.

Miles inhales sharply at the feeling of Kieran"s breath on his lips, longing to steal his breath from him. He nods, not trusting himself to not say something stupid if he talks.

And then Kieran"s mouth is on his again, and Miles wants to cry for a second. He ignores how overwhelmed he is and reaches up to tangle his hands in Kieran"s hair, pouring every last bit of desperate want and hopeless pining into the kiss. He can"t hold back, not tasting Kieran on his tongue again after so long, and he hopes like hell that Kieran will believe he just suddenly got really good at acting.

Kieran wraps an arm around Miles" waist, tugging him closer, and Miles gasps, whimpering into Kieran"s mouth pleadingly. He"s so strong, his entire body corded with muscle, and it makes Miles feel weak.

"Fuck," Miles gasps, pulling back.

He places his hands on Kieran"s shoulders, trembling a bit. Panic starts to set in as his breathing returns to normal and he feels Kieran shift under his palms. How the hell is he going to explain his reaction to that without spilling everything?

God, this was a stupid idea.

Just as that thought fills his head, he hears the crack of a branch off to the side. Both of their heads whip to the right at first, but Miles realizes it actually came from the left. His blood freezes when his eyes focus on what looks like the silhouette of a person standing in the trees, and he turns to Kieran, shoving at his shoulder.

"Kieran, there"s some—"

He cuts himself off halfway through the word, because when the both of them turn to look, there"s…nothing there. Trees and flowers and leaves fluttering in the night breeze, but no lurking figure to point at.

"What is it?" Kieran asks, squinting into the forest.

"There was someone there," Miles whispers, still frozen and scared.

Kieran glances back to the trees, obviously seeing nothing, because there"s nothing there anymore, but he doesn"t question Miles.

"It"s getting pretty dark out here," he says quietly. "We can keep practicing back at the bungalows."

"Yeah," Miles says, nodding absently. "Sure."

His eyes don"t leave the tree line for the entire walk back.

Miles hardly even notices that Kieran is still holding his hand until they"re back at the door of his bungalow and he reaches to punch in his key code. Kieran squeezes his hand as he pulls the door open, and Miles looks back at him, his breath catching in his chest again.

"Can I come in?" Kieran asks, and he sounds almost shy, but he takes a step forward, wrapping his hand around Miles" waist.

The look in his eyes is anything but shy.

Are they still acting? Does Miles care?

"Yes," he manages.

And then he"s pulling Kieran into his bungalow, kicking the door closed behind him, and he"s once again lost in the pull of his own want.

Kieran"s hands are on his waist, Kieran"s lips on his jaw, and Miles can barely think. They stumble toward the bed, Miles finally finding Kieran"s lips with his own, and he feels his heart stutter when Kieran pulls him down onto the bed. Kneeling over his lap, Miles doesn"t think he could break away from their kiss for anything but the end of the world right now, but he does wish he could see how Kieran looks under him.

He"ll settle for feeling the way broad hands grip at his hips, reminiscent of the way Kieran had pushed him against the wall at Ethan"s. That memory, no matter how sharp it will always be in Miles" mind, is nothing compared to the here and now of feeling Kieran warm and strong beneath him.

Miles gasps into Kieran"s mouth when the man"s hand dips beneath his shirt, skin to skin, and his stomach flips over on itself.

And suddenly, it"s all too real, and Miles is pushing off of Kieran and stumbling back. He"s hard in his jeans, flushed and panting, and he"s sure he looks like a mess.

It's not fair to Kieran. He's here to do a job and help Miles with method acting so they don't blow up their mission. Miles shouldn't be enjoying it so much. A nauseating wave of guilt washes over him.

He doesn"t look anywhere near Kieran, keeping his eyes firmly glued to the floor, his hands balling into fists in an attempt to stop himself from shaking. Miles takes several ragged breaths before he can even think about talking, and when he does, his voice comes out trembling and uneven.

"You"re right, it"s getting late," Miles grates out, ignoring the way he can still feel the warmth of Kieran"s lips on his. "We should go to bed. I"ll see you tomorrow?"

Kieran is quiet for a long, long moment, and Miles almost breaks, almost looks at him. Finally, though, the other man sighs, and Miles hears him push up from the bed.

"Ok," he agrees. "I"ll see you tomorrow."

His voice is just as rough at the edges as Miles" is, and he sounds like he wants to say more, but Miles doesn"t so much as breathe until he hears Kieran"s footsteps head toward the door. He almost wants to call out, to ask Kieran to stay, but that would be the single most ridiculous thing Miles has ever done in his life, so he stays silent.

"Good night, Miles," Kieran says softly. "Sleep well."

Miles doesn"t think he"s likely to get any sleep at all.