Chapter Ten #2
Hands twitching for something to do, Nico went and pulled the wooden slats of the blinds shut. A dresser, messy walk-in closet, and ensuite bathroom filled the other side of the room, and faded posters of rappers and baseball players still hung from the walls.
“Yeah, I don’t know why they don’t change it. I haven’t lived here in years, and it’s not like I’ll ever move in again.”
“Your dad probably likes the memories.”
Nico snorted. “He doesn’t give a shit.”
Forehead creased, Jake was silent for a few moments before saying, “Of course he does. No matter what ignorant garbage he spouts.”
“All he cares about is that I don’t embarrass him.”
“He’s your father. He loves you, despite what a jackass he can be.”
Nico stalked over to the four boxes stacked by his dresser and unfolded the top flaps, ripping one clean off. “He has Marco and Val. I’m the accident.”
He pawed through the box, pulling out reams of paper and tossing them aside, not really seeing them at all.
Jake wasn’t saying anything, and Nico felt the need to fill the silence, words tumbling off his tongue for a change, not stuck in his throat.
“Marco and Val were boom, boom, and then ten years until me. Something happened when Val was born, and they didn’t think they could have any more.
But a decade later, I was like, surprise, bitches! ”
“I’m sure it was a wonderful surprise.”
“Not so much. Mom had to be on bed rest the whole time, and then she got cancer when I was still a baby. Cervical. She made it five years, which was pretty good, I guess. But if she’d never had me…”
Dropping to his knees, he tipped out the box, rooting through old notebooks, choking down the sudden swell of grief. Fuck, he tried so hard not to think about her, but memories crowded in.
Her voice hoarse, skin paler as she leaned over to tuck him into bed, dark curls that had just grown back falling out again, never returning.
He barely remembered, but she was everywhere here even after so many years without talking about her.
Jake’s deep voice was close now. “My dad died of cancer. It was… Well, it was awful. Soul-crushing.”
Nico could sense Jake just behind him, and he ached to lean back into that warmth. Instead, he crawled to the next box and tore it open. He had to get back in control. Now. Amazingly, he managed to keep his voice steady. “I’m sorry about your father.”
“I know how hard it is. I’m sure your mother’s illness had nothing to do with the pregnancy.”
Nico tried to wave it off. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It doesn’t matter now. And like Marco said, Dad’s just being Dad. I never do anything right.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was like that. Especially now you’re grown.”
Nico sprang to his feet with an attempted smile, brushing past him. “No big.”
His limbs twitched, and he needed to move. But he didn’t want to go back downstairs, so he paced around the room as if he was looking for something, opening and closing drawers, then stalking into the walk-in, sliding hangers back and forth on a rod.
Cornered now, he went back into his room, closing the closet door and leaning back against it, his heart beating too fast. Jake still stood by the boxes, watching him with a pinched expression of concern.
“I wasn’t ever even going to—” Nico ducked his head, his cheeks going hot, lust suddenly tugging at him, low and insidious. With Jake only a few feet away, he had to keep his shit together.
“What?” Jake asked softly. “Have sex with men?” After a few silent moments he added, “Do you enjoy having sex with women? Are you bi?”
Nico hitched his shoulders. “It’s fine with women. I mean, suction, friction—it’s never really bad.”
“But if you had your choice?”
Meeting Jake’s gaze again, those blue eyes watching him with a tenderness that sent a thrill spiraling through him, Nico finally told the truth. “I’d choose men.” He shuddered, legs quivering. There it was. He’d said it out loud.
“Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
“I kept trying with girls, hoping… Hoping something will change, I guess.” He tried to laugh.
“No luck so far, and now—” Oh my God, stop talking.
Jake regrets that anything ever happened!
“I just mean—I can’t pretend anymore after we…
I’m not saying…” He had no idea what he was trying to say, so he snapped his jaw shut.
Jake still watched him like Nico was about to break. “Nic, I know it must be scary, especially with your dad’s prejudices.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Nico was talking too fast, and he swallowed hard.
He shouldn’t have had so much wine. His skin was too tight, the pressure expanding like soda in a shaken can, and something had to come out.
He blurted, “If I can get Rookie of the Year like he and Marco did, I’ll prove him wrong. ”
“Wrong about what?” Jake asked quietly.
Wasn’t it obvious? “About me.”
“What about you?”
“That I’m… You know. Bad.”
Shaking his head, Jake stepped close, speaking fervently. “Nico, you’re not bad. Do you really think that? Your dad and grandmother are wrong.”
He shrugged violently. Fuck, how had he let himself get this raw?
In front of Jake of all people? But there was something in Jake’s gentle, patient gaze that had always stripped Nico’s defenses.
“Maybe I’m not bad, but I’m still not good enough.
” Closing his eyes, he knocked his head back against the door, thump, thump, thump.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Jake’s breath feathered over Nico’s cheek, his palm cupping the back of Nico’s head.
Nico had to open his eyes, had to look up at Jake so close to him, so tall, that little scar on his temple, stubble darkening his face. Jake was here in this room where Nico had yearned for it so desperately. Yearned for him. “I want to be right,” he whispered.
Jake’s other hand came up to stroke Nico’s cheek. “You are. You’re beautiful.”
Then Jake kissed his forehead, a dry press of lips, and Nico was going to disintegrate right there, combust into a pile of ashes to be swept away.
There was only an inch between them, their noses almost touching, and the last barrier tumbled, Nico reaching for Jake’s waist as he pressed their lips together.
They stood locked there, Jake’s hands on Nico’s head and face as they kissed softly. Nico’s lungs burned, his heart skipping hollowly, and he breathed through his nose, the musky, male scent of Jake filling him, their lips touching, parting gently.
When Jake eased back, sucking in a breath, he pulled Nico into his arms. Nico buried his face in the juncture of Jake’s neck and shoulder, scruff against one cheek and smooth flannel the other, wrapping his arms around Jake’s wide back, enveloped by him.
They’d hugged when Jake had arrived in Ottawa and years before at the end of that summer, a fleeting, backslapping clasp when baseball season was over. Nico hadn’t even breathed he’d been strung so tightly, and now he clung to Jake’s powerful body, his control slipping away with every heartbeat.
The wine really had loosened his tongue—or maybe it was the kiss—and Nico whispered, “I used to dream about you here.”
He heard Jake’s forceful swallow, and Jake eased back, dropping his arms. “Nico…”
Breath coming faster, Nico’s hands seemed to move of their own accord, caressing Jake’s flanks through his flannel shirt, his fingers splayed over tensed muscle. Jake stood motionless, his lips parted and gaze flicking down to Nico’s mouth and back to his eyes.
Nico knew he should stop, but the confessions escaped. “Wondered what it would feel like to kiss you.” He nosed in close, rubbing their cheeks together before brushing his lips over Jake’s jaw, dragging back behind his ear. “How rough your stubble would be.”
Still rigid, Jake trembled now as Nico held his hips. On a shaky exhalation, Jake whispered, “Did you touch yourself?”
“Fuck, yes. All the time. Imagined how big your cock was, and if you were cut or not. What it would taste like. Wanted to swallow your cum. Used to taste mine and pretend it was yours.”
Jake’s chest rose and fell faster. “Jesus. We can’t.”
But the truth was a river now, white water carving through rock. “When I found out you were traded and I’d see you again, I got so hard I had to jerk off. Shoved my finger in my ass and imagined it was your cock, and—”
With a guttural noise that was almost a growl, Jake grabbed his head and crushed their mouths together, pinning him against the door, his long leg shoving between Nico’s thighs.
Gripping Jake’s hips, Nico ground their swelling cocks together, opening his mouth for Jake’s tongue, stroking and licking, the rasp of their stubble so fucking perfect.
The broadness of Jake’s shoulders and the few extra inches of height had Nico deliciously trapped, wood unyielding at his back and Jake’s lean muscles jammed against him as they rutted and gasped, more truth escaping through Nico’s kiss-wet lips.
“I’ve never been fucked, and I want it to be you. Want you to come inside me.”
Thrusting his hips, Jake’s fingers tightened even more in Nico’s hair, pulling on the edge of pleasure and pain. He pressed their foreheads together, muttering, “Christ, I want you. This isn’t… It’s never like this.”
“You want to fuck me?” He dragged his hands over Jake’s ass, pulling and squeezing, their dicks straining in their pants. “I need it. Need you.”
“We can’t.” Jake moaned low in his throat, rocking his hips against Nico’s, Nico so close to coming already.
Here in his teenage bedroom, with his Pedro Martinez and Eminem posters watching, between the four walls where he’d fantasized about cock and muscles—about Jake’s—Nico was afraid he’d wake up alone in his old twin bed, the sheets sticky, shame blanketing him as he tried to go back to sleep, praying he’d wake up normal.
Praying he’d wake up the “right” way so he could play baseball, so he could be what his father wanted. Demanded.
Gulping for air, he spread his legs farther, his fingers digging into Jake’s ass as they rubbed off together.
It was really happening—he’d tasted Jake’s mouth, and now Nico felt the hot puffs of his breath against his swollen lips.
The little pants and groans Jake made filled his ears, surrounding him.
He’d waited so long to say it out loud that Nico was suddenly struck by a soul-shaking tremor of fear, panic rising that if he didn’t get all the words out now, they’d somehow be swallowed too deep to ever surface. “I’m queer.”
Nodding, Jake murmured, “That’s it, baby.”
Tears burned Nico’s eyes. “I’m gay. I want cock. Always have. Always will.”
Jake was kissing him again, their teeth bumping, spit stringing between them, the wet friction of their tongues echoing the motion of their hips.
Nico needed their clothes off so he could finally feel Jake skin to skin, but it was too late.
Panting, they rubbed off frantically, and Nico couldn’t seem to stop talking.
“Want to suck your dick until it’s choking me. You can spank me again. I’ll do anything you tell me to, I’ll—”
Shuddering heavily, Jake came, eyes closed and back arching, the long column of his throat exposed. Nico licked his Adam’s apple. “Oh fuck, Nico.” Jake was still thrusting, and he hoisted up Nico’s leg, holding his thigh against his hip. “Come on. That’s it.”
Jake’s lips were red and wet, his face flushed and pupils huge, and he was the most beautiful thing Nico could imagine. And after all the years of fantasy, he was touching Nico, looking at him so intently, kissing him and stealing his breath.
Nico’s balls tightened and he went rigid, the orgasm sending his head back to thump against the door again, his eyes squeezed shut.
Then Jake’s hand was there, cradling the back of his head. Nico dropped his leg down with a thud, and they slumped against each other, the only sounds their harsh breathing and the distant, watery rumble of the TV downstairs.
Eyes still closed, Nico repeated, “I’m gay.”
Jake’s lips pressed against Nico’s face—forehead, chin, cheeks. Finally on his lips once more, so sweetly, and Nico kept his eyes squeezed shut, because he didn’t want this dream to end.