Chapter Twenty-One
Nico
“Ughhhh. It’s morning? Already?”
“Mm-hmm, yeah. Fuck, sorry.”
I twist around in Alex’s arms, ignoring as he grumbles another something about how he really hates Mondays, and I reach over him to the nightstand to shut off the alarm on my phone.
It is actually too early, and I should probably tell him I deliberately set my Monday morning alarm to fifteen minutes earlier than I needed to get up just so we could waste a little time cuddling before I had to go to work.
Though, on second thought, maybe I should keep that to myself.
I hit the snooze button on my phone and then hesitate.
I’m sort of sprawled out half on top of him now, one hand in the middle of his chest and one of my legs somehow wedged between his.
As I pause, trying to decide whether and where to move, his hand, which had been up covering his eyes to block out the sunlight, shifts to my shoulder and squeezes gently before rubbing lightly down to my elbow.
Shuddering, I drop my head to his chest. “Alex, ah, fuck . . .” I mumble against him, my breath warming his shirt.
“Hmm?”
He repeats the motion, his hand drifting up to my shoulder and then back down to my elbow, and I groan again as I lower myself on top of him.
There’s something much more intimate about this position, and with a wave of anxiety, I realize maybe this will be the point where he says okay, enough.
He hasn’t shied away from anything this whole weekend—and we’ve spent a lot of time snuggled up together in bed.
But now, I’m lying on top of him, my knee between his legs and my fingers flexing into his waist.
Fuck, his chest is solid.
I’m distracted for a moment as I turn to press my cheek into the hard planes of his pecs. I hear his breath hitch when my hand drifts up his side a few inches, and I can’t help it. I close my eyes and curl up right there—right there with my head on his chest.
It’s so fucking comfortable.
“I hit snooze,” I say, and he groans quietly and seems to inhale deeply as he buries his face in my hair.
“Mmm, good. It’s too early. And this is good. Staying right here.”
“Yeah.”
His hand slips around to my back, rubbing slow circles over the top of my shirt. After a moment, he shifts a tiny bit, and his other hand finds its place on my back, too, low in the curve of my waist just above my ass.
“Nico?”
“Hmm?”
“This is what you want?” he asks softly, both of his arms tightening around me.
I nod into his chest, but I can’t stop myself as I start to tremble.
He’s what I want.
This intimacy is what I want.
These feelings of safety and protection, care and tenderness, gentle trust. Love. Those are what I want.
Fuck.
I’m suddenly terrified to move, to say the wrong words. And so I just breathe a quiet “yes” against him.
He hesitates, and then he runs his hand gently up and down my back and asks, “Is this . . . all you want?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, but I still can’t move. I don’t know what he’s really asking, though it would be easy to assume, wouldn’t it? But I’m not in a position to assume because if I fuck this up—
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
“It . . . it doesn’t matter what I want,” I counter, my voice faltering. His hand still rubs up and down my back in the softest of strokes, and I feel him shake his head, his cheek pressing into my hair.
“It matters to me,” he whispers, low and warm and soothing. I want to cry, especially when he adds, “You matter to me.”
“Alex . . .” I can’t finish the sentence. Hell, I can’t even start it. Because that just sounded like something of a confession to me . . . like Alex was confessing to having feelings for me. And I have no idea how to respond.
Why the fuck can’t he just come out and say it? If that’s what he’s trying to tell me. “Bro, I’m gay, and I like you.” Simple.
Totally simple.
Not.
It’s not really that simple, and I know it. Otherwise, I’d have done it years ago.
Right?
I hold my breath for another moment, my heart pounding in my chest. Then I grip his shirt tighter, and I blurt out, “I-I like you. I’m gay, a-and I like you. And this isn’t all I want. I want more.” There. I said it instead. Now he can freak out and kick me out and— “Fuck. Sorry. Dammit.”
I pull away, scooting off of him and turning to face the wall.
A tear slips down my cheek, and I reach up to wipe it away as I shrink into myself, my chest tight.
I don’t know why the fuck I said that. I shouldn’t have.
I shouldn’t have said it, and I shouldn’t even be here, in bed with him, taking all this comfort he’s giving me without anything to give him in return.
I’m such a fucking asshole.
Another tear slides down my cheek, but I ignore it this time.
The silence behind me is terrifying, and I’m about to excuse myself and figure out how to crawl out of bed around him when the mattress shifts. He gets up, and I hear his footsteps as he moves quietly toward the door.
Then there’s a click as he locks it.
A few seconds later, he crawls back into bed, and he scoots up right behind me.
“Nico, can I hold you again?” he asks, his voice a low whisper that sounds even less sure than I feel.
Something stirs in my chest, though, as I realize what he’s asking me.
I nod, and as his arm slips around me, pulling me up against him, a tiny whimper escapes my throat. God, what the fuck is happening now?
My back is flush against his chest, in the same position we’ve been cuddling in and sleeping in all weekend, and he does that thing that makes me feel so good where he nuzzles the back of my neck. I close my eyes and let out a long, shuddering sigh.
“This is okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says quietly, his breath warm on my neck.
When I nod, he squeezes me gently, murmuring “good,” and I hold myself as still as possible as he starts talking softly.
“I-I’m bisexual. And, um, I . . . I like you, too.
I’ve liked you for a long time, I was just too scared to tell you.
You’re my best friend, and I was scared, you know? ”
I hear him swallow nervously, and his hand caresses lightly down my chest to my stomach. I’m still too fucking terrified to respond or even let myself think about what he just said. And I’m not sure how the hell he can act so calm.
I move my hand to cover his, and he sucks in a breath and presses his forehead into me.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you,” he continues. “But with everything going on, there was never a good time, and . . .”
“. . . and things kept getting more complicated?” I finish for him.
He nods. “Yeah. Yeah, for sure.” He pauses, and I can feel the uncertainty in his next words. “Um . . . did you really mean what you said? Do you really want more? With me?”
Here’s where I should lie.
I’m a broken, worthless piece of shit, and he deserves so much better than anything I could ever give him or anything I’ve ever given him.
I should pull away, make up some lame excuse, and then go get ready for work.
I should probably pack up my shit, too, because I’m sure I’ve overstayed my welcome here.
But I don’t do that.
Instead, I lie there in his arms, tense and unsure, trying to figure out how to respond.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Alex says quietly after another moment. He’s still holding me, his hand now unmoving on my stomach.
I shake my head. “You didn’t. I’m just . . . I’m scared,” I admit, though I don’t tell him exactly what I’m scared about.
There’s a touch on my neck that feels different than before.
Warm and soft and pliant, brushing gently along my skin.
I only realize it’s his lips when he hums against me.
He starts to move his hand a little lower, and I moan quietly, pressing my head into my pillow as I feel the tiniest tease of his fingertips on my stomach, curling up under the hem of my shirt. He pauses.
“Is this okay?” he breathes, his lips still against my neck. “I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.”
My cock stirs at his words, despite all the reservations and guilt I still have, and when his lips part and his hot, wet tongue touches my neck, I groan with want.
I twist around in his arms, and his hand slips under my shirt, smoothing along my waist and then my lower back.
One of my legs comes up over the top of his, and he responds by sliding his knee between my thighs.
“Holy fuck,” I hiss.
He just groans in response, rubbing his foot down along my calf as his hand flattens against my back, warm and sure and steady.
I shift a bit more, needing to feel his body pressed against mine, and it’s just as good as I’ve imagined. My chest tightens as I reach up, cup his cheek, and tug him down to me.
I’ve never kissed anyone before.
But I need him now like I need air to breathe.
He’s confident and bold, and he brings his mouth to mine like he’s done it a thousand times before. His lips caress and soothe with a pressure that’s exactly right. I groan deep in my throat and then melt into him, kissing him back again and again. It’s fucking perfect.
When we finally part, both breathing hard, it’s like he can’t stand it.
He makes some sound of protest and then pushes himself up onto one elbow, leans over me, and captures my lips again, slower this time, as his leg slides between mine.
He’s gentle, even though I can feel his hard length pressing against my thigh.
He hums quietly and pulls back, and his hand comes up to trace along my jaw. “God, that was amazing.” I open my eyes to see him, and I swallow hard when our eyes meet. He’s looking at me with so much care and gentleness that it’s almost overwhelming. “Nico, you’re—”
I slip both hands up around to the back of his neck and pull him down, cutting off whatever he was going to say.
He comes right to me, pressing his lips back to mine, though he’s even more careful, soft, sensual.
His hand slides around to my waist and then upward slightly, taking my shirt with it, and I moan into him.
Fuck, this is amazing. My heart’s racing with the most incredible rhythm, and I’m warm and tingly all over.
He just starts to deepen the kiss in a new way—his tongue peeking out to run along my bottom lip—when my fucking alarm goes off from the nightstand again. Its annoying buzz turns into a pulsing tune that’s too awful to be ignored.
With a groan, he breaks the kiss and rolls over away from me to grab my phone. “Snooze or stop?” he asks, his voice rough.
I can’t breathe, and I’m hot and too overwhelmed to think, so I just screw my eyes shut and reach out with a grumble. “Lemme see.” The phone lands in my hand, and I force my eyes back open with a groan. “Ugh, I gotta get up now,” I mutter as I swipe to turn the alarm off.
I toss the phone onto the bed between us and cover my eyes with my arm.
And not more than a second later, he’s pulling me up against him again, his lips finding my neck and then my jaw and my cheek.
It’s light, and there’s something almost joyful about how he’s touching me.
I find myself smiling, even as I feign another grumble and pretend to try to push him away.
He laughs against me, a puff of air warming my neck. Then he kisses that same spot and hums something quiet. I stop pushing him away and just curl up in his arms. My whole body shudders as his arms tighten around me and he places more soft kisses on my neck.
I can hear his heart thrumming hard, and I know mine’s doing the same thing.
“I meant what I said,” he breathes between kisses, and he stops with his lips lingering against my skin as I grip his shirt.
He shifts to settle me more on his chest, and then he buries his head in my hair and inhales deeply.
“I’m sorry I hid this from you. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.
I hope we can talk more later. Sorry I kinda, um, mauled you. ”
I laugh as my chest tightens, and I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry about that. It was fucking incredible.”
I should say something else. After all, we both just came out to each other. And he kissed me. Or I kissed him. Whatever. We kissed.
God, we fucking kissed.
It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt.
Some massive weight seems to disappear from my shoulders, and I breathe in a deep, uninhibited breath and cling to him as I let it out.
“I have to go to work now,” I say quietly.
“Yeah.”
I push up so I can see him, my hands resting on his chest. His eyes are soft, and he brings a hand up to cup my cheek.
“Meet me for lunch?” I ask.
He smiles, his face lighting up, and then he nods and leans in to kiss my forehead.
Fuck, that’s even better than him kissing my neck.
“I’m helping my mom out most of the day today,” he says. “Cleaning and then running some errands for her. But I’ll skip out around noon and bring lunch. Will that work?”
“Mm-hmm, yeah.”
“Good.”
I still don’t want to move, but after another minute, I manage to drag myself up off of him and grab my clothes to get changed. I’m just at the door when I glance back over my shoulder. His eyes dart up to mine, his cheeks turning red, and I can’t help smirking at him.
“You were checking out my ass the other day.”
The red in his cheeks turns even darker, and he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair as he stammers, “N-no. No, I, um, I was just—”
“—checking out my ass,” I finish for him, grinning.
He’s got his mouth parted as he stares at me, his hand now rubbing the back of his neck.
I huff a laugh, feeling that odd joyfulness again that I’d felt from him earlier.
“Maybe I’ll let you really check it out later,” I tease, turning back to the door with another smirk. I hear him suck in a breath.
“God, Nico,” he hisses, and the next thing I know, he’s wrapping his arms around me, pulling me back into him. His lips find my neck, and he murmurs, “I can’t wait,” his breath hot against my skin.
I laugh again and turn around in his arms, and then he presses me up against the door and kisses me.
I’m totally going to be late to work, I just know it. But when his tongue pushes into my mouth for the first time, I really, really can’t bring myself to care all that much.