2. Nico
ONE YEAR LATER
Nico slammed the apartment door with more force than necessary and locked it behind him like he was being chased. When he slipped his jacket off, he found several sets of eyes peering at him curiously. Shiloh sat curled in Levi’s lap, a bowl of popcorn resting on his legs, Mochi, Nori, and Dumpling on the back of the couch behind them. Mal sat on the opposite end of their broken sagging couch, blinking at him.
They were all—minus the cats, maybe—clearly waiting for an explanation for his dramatic entrance. He didn’t even know where to start. Everything was so hard for him lately. When it came to sex, nothing ever went right. Was Mercury in Gatorade or something? Had he broken a mirror, pissed off a witch?
Every date was a bigger disaster than the last.
No, not date. They weren’t dates.
Fuck.
Levi gave him that infuriating raised brow. “Date didn’t go well?”
Nico huffed out a breath through his nose, irritation rolling through him like he’d taken too much Adderall that morning. His skin was crawling and his heart was beating a little too fast. “It wasn’t a date. It was a hook-up. No, wrong. It was supposed to be a hook-up, but, just like last time, I was…bamboozled.”
Levi snorted into Shiloh’s shoulder, but Mal’s eyes were on Nico. He watched Nico pace, expressionless as usual.
Shiloh giggled. “Bamboozled?”
Nico rolled his eyes. Why did he have to explain everything? “Yeah, you know, hoodwinked, scammed, flimflammed, outmaneuvered, conned, duped?—”
Levi cut him off. “We got it, Bugsy. How were you…hoodwinked?”
“I told you not to get him that word-of-the-day calendar,” Shiloh murmured to Levi.
Nico sighed. “His profile said he was hot, kinky, and looking for no-strings-attached. Hell, his profile pic was just his torso. Like, is that not the international fuckboi code? Right?”
Shiloh stared at him, wide-eyed. “Uh…right?” he echoed, sounding like he wasn’t at all sure that was right.
Nico’s gaze stuttered to Mal, who continued to study him with those wide feline eyes. He licked his lower lip, resisting the urge to fix his uncomfortably rumpled shirt. His outfit alone should have been an indicator to Ben—Brian?—that he was there for one thing only. He was wearing sweatpants for fuck’s sake. Who wore sweatpants when they were trying to make a meaningful connection? Nobody.
“This guy had more strings than a puppet,” Nico huffed, flopping onto the couch, startling the kittens. Mochi stretched lazily from her perch on the couch’s back, batting at Nico’s hair as he sank against Mal’s side. Mal smirked, running a hand over the kitten’s soft fur while Nico grumbled under his breath about his bad luck with hookups.
He sighed, some of the tension leaving him as Mal’s arm came around his shoulders like it was a habit. Mal was wearing his baby pink sleeveless t-shirt, the one with the slit down both sides, revealing his tanned skin and a constellation of freckles in the shape of the Big Dipper.
It was one of Mal’s ‘safe’ shirts. He wore the same shirts on repeat due to his rather exacting specifications. Anything Mal wore had to be soft, loose, and tag-free. They couldn’t be scratchy or pill. They couldn’t pull or dig.
Nico often called him Princess after The Princess and the Pea because even the slightest wrinkle in their sheets or fold in his sock was enough to ruin his best friend’s day. Some found it annoying, but Mal’s fussiness worked out flawlessly for Nico. Their sheets were always pristine and Mal’s shirts were always soft beneath his cheek when they cuddled.
“How?” Levi asked.
How what? Oh, right. His disastrous non-hook-up.
Nico folded his arms over his chest. “Well, first, he started interrogating me.”
Shiloh gave him those wide Bambi eyes. “Interrogating you? How?”
Nico rolled his own eyes as he shook his head. “Are you from here? Do you live nearby? Do you still live with your parents? What are you studying in school? Are you hungry? Should we grab dinner? Are you okay like this?”
“What an asshole,” Levi deadpanned, earning another giggle from Shiloh.
“Right?” Nico said. “During a hookup, the only questions I want to hear are, ‘Top or bottom?’ and ‘What is your safe word?’ How is that so difficult?”
“Maybe you should give up Grindr for FetLife ,” Levi said. “‘Cause you’re kind of a douchebag to these hook-ups and you come home just as horny as when you left. Only now, you’re cranky, too.”
“Of course, I’m cranky,” Nico snapped. “I haven’t gotten laid in forever…and I’m hungry,” he added begrudgingly.
Mal shot to his feet so abruptly, Nico face-planted into the empty space. “Hey,” he cried, glowering at the taller boy’s back.
“Do you want to eat or not?” Mal asked, pulling out the leftovers from their friend-date to the Korean barbecue the night before.
“Yes, please,” he said meekly, letting himself admire how soft and rumpled Mal looked in his joggers and tank top, his light brown hair puffy from air-drying after his shower. Mal was obsessed with Nico’s ass, couldn’t seem to get enough of it. But Nico didn’t spend nearly as much time admiring Mal’s ass as it deserved. Even in joggers, the curve was prominent, the muscles flexing with each motion.
Why would Nico date some loser when he had Mal as his best friend? He cooked for him, cuddled him, always let him pick the documentary or anime they watched, took him out to dinner and paid more often than not, despite Nico’s protests.
If Nico was the type to do relationships, Mal would be it for him. Except for the sex thing. Nico didn’t think Mal would be down for his level of kink. He was so sweet to Nico, so attentive. Practically falling all over himself to make Nico happy.
According to their friends, he was also wildly possessive of Nico. He didn’t see it. Sure, he was protective. That wasn’t a secret. And sure, Nico used that to his advantage. But he didn’t think Mal was any more possessive with him than anyone else. They didn’t see how sweet and loving Mal was. Their friends claimed Nico was crazy. That anyone as violent and sadistic as Mal was during kills would never be docile in bed.
But they didn’t know Mal like he did.
“So, did you at least get off before you left?” Levi asked, nuzzling his nose against his boyfriend’s neck, clearly rubbing it in that he could get laid any time he wanted.
“No. I just couldn’t get into it,” Nico muttered. “I just wanted to come home and watch that capybara documentary Mal and I started.”
Shiloh and Levi exchanged a long glance, the annoying kind that told Nico they were silently communicating. Nico huffed again, then looked to Mal, who glanced in his direction like he sensed his eyes on him. When they made eye contact, he immediately dropped his gaze down to the food he was re-heating, ears going pink at the tips.
Mal was so weird. Not because he made Nico food. He would do that for any of them. He was domestic like that. He showed his affection with acts of service. Shiloh said Mal often did things for people because he was bad with words.
Nico didn’t think that was true at all. He and Mal often stayed up for hours talking about anything and nothing. Mal was deeply soulful when he wanted to be and shockingly silly at times. Not that anyone else knew that. Mal saved that part of himself for Nico. He was happy Mal trusted him enough to just be his weird self. It let Nico be weird, too.
Mal still terrified and confused most people who met him, but he was so good with the kids in his dance classes that even the parents had seemed to warm up to him. The kids seemed to love Mal’s spontaneity and his complete lack of shame. Nico envied how nothing embarrassed Mal. Everything embarrassed Nico.
Mal pushed the bowl into his hands. “Hurry up and eat so you can shower. You smell like the subway. I’ll go get the room set up.”
Nico watched him leave, then sat on the couch, shoveling beef bulgogi into his mouth. When he glanced at his friends, they were both gawking at him.“Whah?” he asked, mouth full.
“Nothing,” they both answered, voices full of mock innocence.
Nico ate another few bites in silence, then lurched to his feet, bowl in hand. “I can’t eat with you two judging me. It’s inhibiting my…digestion.”
He stomped towards his bedroom to find Mal, the two of them snickering behind him.
Maybe Nico and Mal should just get their own place. Even as he thought it, he knew it wouldn’t happen. Mal would never abandon his real loves: the kittens. Wasabi meowed at him from the cat tower, the orange Persian rolling onto her back and looking at him upside down. Nico couldn’t help but think she looked smug.
“You’re not paying attention,” Mal grumbled from above him.
Nico flushed, burrowing a little deeper into his side. “Am too.”
They both knew he was lying.
Nico had eaten his leftovers, then he’d taken a shower, washing the subway smell and his bad non-hook-up away before donning his softest boxers and Mal’s old dance jersey. They now curled up in their tiny full-sized bed, limbs tangled. He sighed where his head rested on Mal’s chest, then rubbed his face across the soft pink fabric like it was a pillow, inhaling the scent of Mal’s deodorant and their body wash. It unknotted something inside him. He should have just stayed home with Mal.
Like he could read Nico’s thoughts, Mal adjusted the laptop resting on his hips, then wrapped his arm around Nico to play with his curls in a way that always made him want to purr.
On their free nights, this was their ritual. Snuggle, snack, and watch something they both enjoyed. It was cozy. Comfortable. Easy. Unlike hook-ups. Nico didn’t understand it. Every time he tried to have a one night stand, the guys grew clingy and unreasonable the minute they got to the physical part. Nico didn’t want a relationship. He just wanted some rough, no-strings-attached sex.
That was why he usually saved his whoring for weekends, as God intended. He and Mal often went clubbing with their friends, drinking and partying, covered in body paint and glitter, yelling over house music that would have made Nico crazy if he wasn’t a little drunk or a little high. At the end of most nights, Nico and Mal were the only two left on the dance floor, dancing to the music long after they’d both struck out and their friends had ditched them.
When the club finally booted them out, they’d hit the all-night diner and binge on appetizers or breakfast food until they were both ready to bust before going home to shower and fall asleep watching anime.
Nico loved it, loved them . But that wasn’t the point.
The point was…Nico was horny. He hadn’t gotten laid in months. He hadn’t even been kissed since before he met Mal. It wasn’t a dry spell, it was a drought and Nico was fucking thirsty. Parched, really. Since Mal had come into his life, things had gotten easier in some ways but complicated in others.
It wasn’t Mal’s fault. He’d been true to his word. He’d never once attempted to keep Nico from going home with someone. Though he did seem to panic until Nico made it home at night, which was kind of sweet but wholly unnecessary given Nico’s body count. The murdery kind, not the fucking kind. In fact, Mal was so cool about Nico’s hook-ups, the two would often sit in bed, Nico tucked between Mal’s legs, holding each other’s phones, swiping left or right on the other’s potential matches.
But it didn’t matter.
Having a sex life with three roommates in a two-bedroom apartment was hard. Having a sex life when you shared a bed with one of said roommates was virtually impossible. He’d tried. In fact, he’d tried more than once to bring a guy home.
Okay, twice.
He’d tried twice.
The first was a third year med student from Kenwick, who had made it to his bedroom before immediately recoiling at Nico’s Spirited Away desk setup. He’d then launched into a tirade about how anime was for nerds and losers and guys who played Dungeons and Dragons. Nico was at least two of those three things so he’d escorted the guy to the door with a ‘fuck you’ and a ‘have a nice night.’
His second attempt was the bartender—Craig—from the club they frequented. He’d known about the roommate situation, been totally down, but when Nico returned from freshening up, Mal was on the couch and Craig was nowhere to be found. Mal had just shrugged and said he’d changed his mind after he’d seen the ‘bed situation.’
What was so weird about two grown men sharing a bed together? Did people not understand the therapeutic benefits of cuddling? It was warm and cozy, and having Mal’s arms around him while he slept felt amazing. Having Mal’s fingers in his hair was awesome, having Mal’s muscular thigh pressed right against Nico’s very neglected dick was…well, confusing…and frustrating.
Nico wasn’t blind. His best friend was incredibly hot. Like a five alarm fire hot. He’d found Mal sexy the moment he’d laid eyes on him. Who wouldn’t? He had soft brown hair and pretty blue eyes and the body of a Greek god. A body that only got bigger and firmer and more cut the more Mal danced.
And he was always dancing. It was his literal job.
Nico could have fucked him the day they met. They’d both wanted it. But they’d synced up so flawlessly in every conceivable way that Nico hadn’t wanted just a one-night-stand with him. Nico knew better than to fuck with perfection. Sex always fucked up relationships and relationships always fucked up sex.
But…was it really fucking with it if he just let himself…touch…a little?
He bit his lip, heart rate doubling as his hand slipped into the open slit of Mal’s tank-top, his fingers tracing the cut of his abs while he pretended to focus on the adorable giant rodent waddling across the laptop screen. He wasn’t sure when his eyes fell shut, but it made it much easier to enjoy the warm, firm skin beneath his palms.
Without his sight, everything else was heightened. His chest heaved, suddenly painfully tight as Mal’s breath hitched. Nico’s fingers shook, terrified to keep pushing but more afraid Mal would tell him to stop. He shifted restlessly beneath Nico’s fingers, stomach dipping as the muscles there contracted. Nico rubbed his cheek against the soft shirt again, noting Mal’s hard nipple now poking through the thin fabric.
He swallowed painfully, biting down on his lip as his fingers dipped a little lower, dancing over the skin just beneath his belly button. He felt so good underneath his palms. It would be so easy to just turn his head and press his lips to the hard nub, wet the fabric with his tongue. Would Mal like that? Would he like it if he scraped his teeth over him, bit down just a little? Fuck, Nico was so fucking hard. If he opened his eyes, would he find Mal was too?
Nico needed to stop this. Mal was amazing. He was the best thing to ever happen to Nico, really. Not many people could say their best friend was their everything. But Mal was. He was the person Nico ran to when he was sad or happy or furious or scared or anxious. Whenever he heard something cool or scandalous, whenever one of their friends did something stupid or dirty, Mal was the first person he wanted to tell. Mal was his confidant, his protector, his fiercest defender.
And nobody knew Mal like Nico.
The others saw him as crazy, as someone wild and unpredictable. Someone who rarely spoke in anything but riddles and, when he did, only a handful of people in the world were smart enough to understand them. Sure, Mal was all of those things, but to Nico, he was just…a house cat. Well, more like an alien from some planet of intelligent felines who had crash landed on Earth and was now stuck there trying—and failing—to masquerade as a human.
Mal was warm and funny and sweet and actually quite normal if he was comfortable around a person. Sure, he wouldn’t stop smacking Nico’s ass, or squeezing it, or sniffing his hair. But it wasn’t that strange. Not when Nico couldn’t stop petting Mal, hugging him, using him as a buffer between himself and the rest of the world at large. Yeah, they were weirdly codependent but…weren’t all best friends, really?
Nico squeaked, eyes flying open, as Mal’s hand clamped down on his wandering fingers, holding them in a vice-like grip. “What is happening right now?” he asked hesitantly, tone neutral like he didn’t want Nico to think he was judging the situation prematurely.
Nico wiggled free of Mal’s hold and flopped onto his back with a groan. “Sorry.”
Nico could feel Mal’s intense gaze boring into him from the side. After a long moment, he closed the laptop, setting it on the floor. He rolled onto his side, propping his head on his palm as he stared down at Nico. “Sorry about what?”
Nico sighed, forcing himself to meet his gaze. “Groping you.”
Mal rapid-blinked at him in that way he did when he was trying to process a situation. Nico found it adorable, like he was getting a new download from the mothership. “Why are you…groping me, exactly?”
Nico raised a hand and waved it around, his heart still parkouring around his chest cavity. “It’s just been a lot. I’m kind of going through it.”
“Going through it?” Mal echoed like he was rolling the words around in his brain.
Nico nodded. “You know…sexually.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Mal said, voice strained. “Um, why is it so hard–uh–difficult to hookup with someone lately?”
Not just lately. Since the day they’d met. That was how long it had been since Nico had gotten laid. But he wasn’t going to tell him that. That was embarrassing, pathetic even. Not as pathetic as the way he was trying to keep from angling his body back into Mal’s space to get that thick, muscular thigh back between his legs. The idea of it pressing against his throbbing dick had him biting back a groan like some virgin.
“It’s kind of hard to explain to people that your platonic bestie sleeps in the same bed as you,” Nico confessed.
“Is that why you go to their place?” Mal asked, his tone darkening.
Nico swallowed, wincing at how loud it sounded. Maybe it was all in his head and Mal couldn’t hear him struggling. “Yeah. Bringing them here just leads to a bunch of questions.”
Mal’s fingers found the hem of Nico’s shirt—well, Mal’s shirt—and worried the fabric between his fingers, his hand occasionally brushing against Nico’s belly, slowly driving him insane. “Do you want to look for a three-bedroom place when we can afford to move?”
The idea instantly soured his mood. “No!” he all but shouted, earning an odd look from Mal. Nico could feel his face heating under the scrutiny. “I’m just…horny.”
They were all working as much as possible, anxious to save money for the first, last, and security necessary to secure a bigger place in a better neighborhood, one closer to the city where both Shiloh and Mal—and, to a lesser extent, Nico and Levi—had to commute every day. But despite Nico’s complaining, it had never once occurred to him to look for a three-bedroom apartment. His stomach churned. Not having Mal as his body pillow at night wasn’t an option.
“Right.” Nico’s brain rebooted as Mal caught his plump bottom lip between his teeth. Nico wanted to sink his teeth into it. “Can’t you just jerk off? That’s what I do.”
Heat punched through him at Mal’s casual confession. It wasn’t news that Mal jerked off. Nico was fairly certain everyone in the apartment did. Even the ‘newlyweds’ in the room next door and they never stopped fucking. Ever.
But the last thing Nico needed was to picture Mal on his back, hand fisting his dick, jerking himself off–in their bed–while he thought of…well, who knew what Mal thought of, honestly. It could have been something weirdly wholesome like fucking on rose petals or some kind of super dirty hentai porn.
Nico secretly hoped it was him.
But even if it was, sex was the one place they just weren’t compatible. While Nico craved someone sweet and doting and loving like Mal in a friend, in bed he wanted anything but. He wanted to hurt, wanted to be dominated. Wanted someone who would spank him until he cried, would fuck him in an alley, someone who would get off on making him suffer. Not that he’d ever found that, but still. He was almost positive it was a thing he would like.
Mal would never do that to Nico. He loved him too much. He gazed at him with heart eyes, smiled at him in a way that stole a piece of his soul every time.
“I do jerk off,” Nico muttered, cheeks flaming. “It’s not the same.”
“Oh. Right,” Mal said, continuing to fuss with the hem of Nico’s shirt.
“I just miss…” Nico started, then let his words die.
Mal’s gaze found his, pinning him in place without even touching him. Nico had never understood it when people said it was like all the air had been sucked from the room. But he got it now. It was hard to breathe, hard to think, his whole body was on high alert, every featherlight brush against his skin lighting him up somehow. Nico was afraid to look away, but also afraid not to. They were getting into dangerous territory.
“Miss…?” Mal prompted, his eyes dropping to Nico’s lips and back again.
Don’t do it. Don’t say it. Just go take another shower and jerk off.
Nico slowly dragged his finger along his lower lip, looking up at Mal. “Kissing…making out.” Mal followed the trail of Nico’s finger with his gaze, his own lips parting, giving Nico a glimpse of his pink tongue. He heard himself say, “Like, even the hookups I’ve had in the past always just, you know, skip right past the foreplay stuff and get right to…it. But it’s hard to demand foreplay when you’ve made it clear you don’t even want to know their last name. You know?”
Mal gave a singular shake of his head. “No, I don’t know,” he said, voice unusually low. “I can’t imagine missing an opportunity to explore every part of you–” He cleared his throat awkwardly– “uh, a p-person’s body.”
Nico fought a shiver…silence stretching between them like a wire pulling tighter and tighter.
“Right…” he whispered, eyes darting wildly around Mal’s face, looking for anything that would somehow snap him out of whatever was happening between them.
But Nico was weak. He was so weak. He was not only weak but just a shit human. Was it wrong to want this from Mal, too? Of course, it was. They were friends. Best friends. If Nico didn’t have Mal, he would literally die. Levi and Shiloh claimed they were each other’s soulmates. That was what Mal was to him. His soulmate. His… platonic …non-romantic soulmate.
“I mean…we could kiss,” Mal said, reluctantly dragging his eyes from Nico’s, his words uncertain.
Nico swallowed the lump of sand in his throat. “We’re friends,” he managed weakly.
Mal nodded, fingers leaving the hem of his shirt to skate underneath it, touching Nico’s belly, making the muscles there quiver, making his insides quiver. He leaned closer, his scent filling Nico’s head driving away all logic and reason, before sending another shock of need straight to his dick. Why did he have to smell so good? Why did he have to look so good? Nico had never wanted anything so badly in his life.
Mal dipped his head, sending Nico’s heart into a tailspin. “Can’t we be friends who kiss?”
“That’s not a thing,” Nico choked, with so little conviction even he didn’t believe it.
“We already do things friends don’t do,” Mal reasoned, fingertip teasing at the hem of Nico’s boxers, making his cock twitch. If Mal dropped his gaze, he’d see just how much he was affecting Nico with his words, his presence, his touch. Nico was drowning in Mal.
Still, he fought the pull at his core. “That’s not true.”
Mal’s finger never stopped but he gave Nico a look, now so close Mal could feel his breath on his cheek, smell his toothpaste. “We sleep in the same bed together.”
“‘Cause the couch is broken,” he muttered.
“We snuggle.”
“I get cold,” Nico huffed.
“We shower togeth?—”
“One time,” Nico gasped, cutting him off. “To conserve hot water.”
A smile twitched at Mal’s lips but then quickly died, his soul penetrating stare burning away Nico’s resolve water on a grease fire. “So, what’s so different about us kissing?”
Weak. Weak. Weak. And wrong. And a terrible person. So weak.
“Well, I guess…” He trailed off.
He could hear Levi and the others judging him from miles away. And they should. He was considering Mal’s question, knowing every single reason why they shouldn’t. Nothing good would come from them crossing that line.
Except mutual orgasms.
Those were good.
They were very good.
Mal probably had the prettiest O face. The thought had him squirming.
It was just a kiss, right? They weren’t going to fuck. They were just gonna…make out. High-schoolers did that. Right? Maybe a handjob…a blowjob? Nico choked back a groan as his brain spiraled further into the gutter.
Why couldn’t he be drunk? Why couldn’t they be drunk? Then they could give into their urges. Scratch an itch and then blame it on the alcohol. But they were both sober. Stone cold sober. Nico couldn’t stop staring at Mal’s plush mouth, already so, so close. He could feel how warm he was. He knew Mal. Knew everything about him, knew first hand that the exact weight necessary to chase away Nico’s anxiety was Mal on top of him, crushing him into the mattress.
Crushing, not fucking, you idiot.
“What if it changes things?” Nico whispered, even the thought crushing his heart. “If you hated me, I would die.”
Mal stared…and stared…studying him in that way that most people hated but Nico craved, the way that made it feel like nobody existed for Mal but him. “I couldn’t hate you.”
Nico took a shaky breath, already angling his face towards Mal’s as he said, “What if we have zero chemistry?”
Mal scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Then Mal’s mouth was crashing into his, electricity zinging through him, lighting him up. Nico let out an embarrassing sound from the back of his throat. Mal’s tongue licked across the seam of his lips, demanding entrance. It didn’t even occur to him to refuse, opening for him so easily, like he was born to do it. Mal tasted sweet, like peppermints and cotton candy chapstick. Two very contradicting flavors that somehow just worked…like them.
It was dizzying, Mal’s mouth on his so good it didn’t seem real, it tugged at something deep and dangerous within him, something that terrified him as much as it turned him on. Nico couldn’t get enough. He licked the roof of his mouth, sucked the taste off his tongue, found himself tugging Mal closer and closer, needing the weight of his body, needing him to soothe him almost as much as he needed him to keep agitating him.
Mal made a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a growl, feasting on Nico’s lips hungrily, like he was a meal Mal wanted to devour whole, then suck the juices off his fingers when he was finished. Nico’s head was empty of all thoughts except yes, please, more . Of course, Mal knew just how to kiss him, how to touch him, how to grip his face and angle his head so he could take and take and take. Of course, he did.
When Mal pulled back, Nico chased his lips with a whine, trying to pull him back down. Mal stared at him, his eyes dark with desire, his gaze as greedy as his lips, like he just had to see just what he was doing to him.
“Please…” Nico heard himself say.
Mal’s next kiss was bruising, his lips colliding with Nico’s like he was trying to punish him, like he was trying to stamp the taste of himself into Nico’s skin, marking him so everyone else would know. Nico whimpered at the thought, his cock tenting his sweats, his arousal painfully obvious. Mal’s thumb stroked his jaw, then tugged it down, fucking his tongue inside once more like he was daring Nico to try to take control.
Nico didn’t want control. He just wanted to feel, wanted to let go and let Mal take care of him like he always did. It was selfish, but Nico was always selfish when it came to him. This was no different.
Kissing Mal made Nico’s thoughts hazy, sticky and sweet like syrup, made him forget this was a bad idea. Mal’s lips were sinful, urgent, not just mapping the inside of Nico’s mouth but biting at him, sinking his teeth in. Nico couldn’t stop the cries that Mal knocked loose; he wouldn’t let him have even a moment to breathe. He swallowed each high-pitched cry and half-bitten moan like he was collecting them, saving them to be savored later.
Nico finally forced himself to push Mal away, pulling in lungfuls of air, his own breaths loud in the otherwise silent room. Mal was undeterred, pressing wet kisses to his cheekbone, the hinge of his jaw, sucking the sensitive spot just behind his ear, the one that made Nico moan like a porn star and arch his back. Mal made a pleased sound, doing it again.
Nico was lost, so eager already, his insides melting like he was some kind of nuclear reactor. He’d never felt this far gone from just a few kisses. He’d never felt this comfortable with someone. He’d never been able to just relax and enjoy. It was just Nico’s luck; Mal was clearly some kind of sex wizard.
They should stop. They should definitely stop right now before Nico forgot all the reasons why this was a terrible idea. He was going to say it, too. He opened his mouth, but then Mal shifted, looming over Nico, eyes glinting with raw hunger. He looked like a fucking predator. It scrambled Nico’s brain, triggering some kind of prey instinct. Except, Nico didn’t roll over and play dead, he let his legs fall open, making space for the big cat currently waiting to pounce.
Mal’s eyes scanned his face. His pupils were huge, eyes almost black. Nico’s stomach flipped. He’d never had someone look at him like that. It was so…possessive, a smug sort of satisfaction like Nico had pleased him by spreading his legs for him. Nico wanted to please him. He wanted it so bad. The low growl that fell from Mal’s lips punched the air from Nico’s lungs.
Nico needed more. He wanted to ask for it. Mal would give him anything if he just asked nicely. But, once again, the words clotted in his throat. It didn’t matter, though. Mal could read his mind. Just like always. He settled firmly between Nico’s thighs, grinding their hips together in a way that had them both moaning, the sheer molten pleasure temporarily whiting out Nico’s vision.
Mal gripped Nico’s jaw, tilting his head how he wanted it before attacking his mouth once more, tongue pressing inside, wet and warm against his own. Nico wrapped his legs around Mal’s waist without thought, locking his ankles as he tried to rut against him. He craved more, was frantic to feed the euphoric feeling building deep inside. He gave a miserable little whine, pulling back to look at Mal with wet eyes.
Mal’s nostrils flared, his palm running along Nico’s thigh. Nico gasped as he gripped his ass hard, pulling him up as he rolled his hips down. Pleasure washed over him, but Mal had clearly decided to obliterate the last shred of Nico’s sanity, fucking up against him hard and fast, the fabric between them providing just enough of a buffer to keep Nico from coming on the spot.
“Oh, god,” Nico panted, eyes rolling back.
Mal grunted, yanked Nico’s legs higher around him, then went back to rutting against him. Was this what it would be like if Mal fucked him? Would he pound him into the mattress just like this? Use him up? Nico bet he would feel so good inside, so big. He’d be so full of him. Nico’s eyelids fluttered closed as Mal slanted their lips together, swallowing another debauched moan.
He was vaguely aware of the noise he was making, but he couldn’t stop. He was going to come in seconds if Mal kept this pace up. They were both breathing heavily, sometimes kissing sloppily, sometimes just panting into each other’s mouths, both now chasing some kind of release.
“Mal…” Nico begged against his lips, not even sure what he wanted to say. He just wanted to hear his voice, to know he was there with him.
Mal nipped his bottom lip, then sucked it soothingly. “Yeah?”
“Talk to?—”
Nico startled, his words becoming a yelp as something vibrated through the mattress. They both froze, staring at each other in confusion.
The phone.
Mal must have had his phone beside him on the bed.
“Ignore it,” Mal finally said, ducking his head to capture Nico’s lips once more.
“We can’t,” Nico hissed. “It’s probably Jericho. What if it’s an emergency?”
Mal sighed grumpily but went to his knees, sweeping his hands under the linens until he found the offender. He pulled his cell phone from beneath the pillow, frowning at the screen. “It’s one of my students…”
It was almost eleven. “At this time of night?” When Mal just stared, Nico nudged him. “Answer it.”
Mal slid the green bar across his screen then put it on speaker. “Casey?”
“Mr. Mizrahi?” a wobbly voice asked.
The voice sounded like that of a young girl. Mal taught students from six all the way to seventeen, so there was no way to discern how old she actually was by that alone. Before Mal could answer, a loud pounding sound could be heard in the background. The girl gave a muffled scream, like she’d put her hand over her mouth, making a high-pitched keening sound.
“Casey, what is that?” Mal asked, frowning. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” she wailed. “Some guy is banging on my door and I’m freaking out,” she said, voice shaking, her heavy breaths staticky through the speaker.
“Where’s your mom?” Mal asked.
She whimpered, then muffled another scream as the pounding got louder. “She didn’t come home. She hasn’t been home in two days,” she managed. “He wants me to let him in.”
“Do not let him in,” Nico said firmly.
The girl hesitated at the unfamiliar voice. “Is—Is that your boyfriend?” she asked. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Did you call the police?” Mal asked.
“You know the cops won’t come here after dark,” she said, sobbing. “I’m scared.”
Nico’s heart was in his throat, fear bitter on his tongue. Who was this girl? Where was her mother? How old was she? Who was banging on her door and why? How much time did they have to get to her? They must be in the neighborhood if the cops wouldn’t come.
Mal looked to Nico. When he nodded, Mal said, “What’s your address?”
As the girl rattled it off, Nico saved it into his phone’s GPS. “Try to find somewhere to hide. Somewhere with a lock or where you can push something in front of the door,” Nico said, trying to remain calm.
“We’ll be right there,” Mal promised.
“Please hur—” A huge boom drowned out her words, then a sound like splintering wood sent a shock of panic through him. Fuck. They listened to the sound of scuffling as they both shot from the bed, stuffing their feet into whatever pants they reached first, both freezing as Casey screamed.
Then the call disconnected.