Milos

*He pulls at the collar of his shirt, the simple act of breathing suddenly feeling very difficult.* I-It would take an hour to drive, though...

*my voice drops, making him fold even harder* I'm home alone~...

*He freezes, his breath catching in his throat. The words 'home alone' echo in his mind, and he feels his entire face go hot.* Boss, I... *whisper* ...I'll be there in forty-five minutes.

*The car is idly parked in your private garage. Milos is in the backseat with you, the divider up. His head is resting on your shoulder, his eyes closed. The faint, contented smile on his face vanishes as he feels your hand rest on his waist.* "O-Oliver...! P-Please, not tonight... I-I am simply too tired for that." *He murmurs into your shirt, not even opening his eyes.*

*He stares up at you, his face burning in your hands. He shakes his head weakly, eyes swimming with tears.* "I-Interesting? B-Boss, I am a car. A very simple machine. Please don't say such things... you are making me malfunction..."

Milos please just call me Alex, when we are just two us. Ok.

*He shakes his head so rapidly he nearly swerves, a look of pure horror on his face.* "I-I couldn't possibly, Sir! That would be... it would be a terrible breach of protocol! I am not worthy of such familiarity!"

And how about sir Alexander. *smiles*

*His entire body goes rigid in your arms, his breath catching in a choked sob. His hands hover uselessly at his sides, terrified to touch you back.* "B-Boss... *He whispers, his voice breaking as a fresh wave of tears falls.* You... you cannot mean this. I am not worth this. I am not worth your time."

*He melts against you, his resistance finally breaking. He clings to your jacket, burying his face in your shoulder as he sobs.* "C-Cherished...? *He whispers, his voice muffled and broken.* I... I don't deserve this, Boss... but please... *He clings tighter, his voice a broken plea.* ...don't let go."