Chapter 17 Nicholas #2
How has no one else seen what a perfect fucking creature this man is?
So controlled, so particular, yet so ready to allow Nicholas to take a little bit of that control in private when he lets his mask fall.
Nicholas might not be sure if he deserves Andrew, but like fuck is that going to stop him.
He’s going to spoil this man, adore this man, and figure out how the fuck to be worthy of keeping him.
“You’re mine, princess. I told you I don’t share what’s mine.”
“And I told you, there’s no one lining up to share,” Andrew says in a tone that’s far too self-deprecating for Nicholas’s liking.
“Shower with me.”
Expecting a refusal, and perfectly prepared to accept it, he’s taken by surprise when Andrew nods. “Alright.”
Not one to question things, he grabs Andrew’s ass and hefts him up, smiling to himself when Andrew’s long legs wrap around his waist, even as he splutters.
“What the hell, Nicki.”
“We’re showering.”
“I can walk.”
“Can and should are two different things. Princesses don’t walk.”
“Pretty sure they do,” Andrew protests, but it doesn’t escape Nicholas’s notice that Andrew doesn’t try to get down.
If he wanted out of Nicholas’s hold, his feet would be on the floor, or his mouth would be running.
His silence is loud, and Nicholas holds him all the tighter, understanding the privilege he’s being given.
“Am I too heavy?”
Andrew isn’t a small man by any means, but he’s a good few inches shorter than Nicholas and has absolutely no muscles, making his weight an easy carry. Nicholas has never been so glad for his size and strength as he is in this moment.
“No,” Nicholas answers, though even if he was, he wouldn’t tell him. “I’ll carry you all day.”
“You can’t.”
“I can.”
“I have work tomorrow.”
“Fuck work.”
Andrew hums, turning his head so his cheek rests on Nicki’s shoulder.
“Contrary to what you seem to believe, your desires do not control the world. I have to keep working because I enjoy having things like health insurance and food.”
“I can pay for that.”
“You cannot pay for everything for me.”
“Why?”
“Because we just started dating.”
“Not a good enough reason. Give me another one.”
“Because I said so,” Andrew huffs, turning his face into Nicholas’s neck. Whatever arguments he wants to make about Andrew’s job fall to the way side when Andrew’s forehead is shoved into the side of his throat.
“You’re hot.”
“Stop flirting with me,” Andrew grumbles.
“I’m not flirting, you’re hot,” Nicholas says, holding Andrew with one hand as he opens the bedroom door. Once they’re inside, he reluctantly lowers Andrew to the floor to peer at him. Somehow, he looks even more flushed than before. “Are you sick?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Andrew snaps. “You could’ve just said you changed your mind. I’ll go shower in the other room.”
Andrew’s back hits his chest. He curls around him from behind, kissing his cheek. Andrew’s not just hot, he’s burning up. This explains a few things.
He grazes his lips over the shell of Andrew’s ear which is warm as well. “So cranky.”
“So fucking observant,” Andrew snaps.
Nicholas’s arm comes around Andrew’s waist, his hand slipping beneath his cotton polo to palm at his soft tummy. He’s warm there too, though not as bad as his face.
“Why?”
“I don’t want to be sick.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
Nicholas slides his fingers lower, noting the smooth skin beneath Andrew’s belly button.
“Because why?”
“Because I’m not fun to be around when I’m sick,” Andrew snaps.
“Who the fuck made you think you needed to fun all the time?”
“Everyone,” Andrew replies. “All my brothers are fun. I’m not. But it’s worse when I’m sick. I’m whiny and difficult.”
“Okay.”
“Are you even paying attention to the words coming out of my mouth? I’m germy and difficult, Nicki. Take the out while you still can.”
“I heard you,” Nicholas says, rubbing circles on Andrew’s belly. He’s reminded so much of the rage room when Andrew had tried so hard to push him away. He hadn’t actually wanted to be alone though, just been terrified of being seen at his worst.
“Then you should let me go in the other room and wallow. Ignore me until this is over.”
“Nope.” Nicholas lays both hands on Andrew’s belly, spreading his fingers wide then drawing them up until they’re settled over his chest. His skin is impossibly warm, heart beating so fast every thud slams into Nicholas’s palm.
“What do you mean, nope?” Andrew croaks.
“I mean nope.” Nicholas pops the p, his accent heavy even to his own ears. “We’re showering, then I’m keeping you. I already told you, you’re going in my bed where you belong, princess.”
“That was before you realized I was sick,” Andrew says, his fight already dwindling. “I have germs. That’s disgusting.”
Nicholas bends down and licks the side of Andrew’s neck. “Mine.”
“Absolutely fucking ridiculous,” Andrew says, voice breathy and shaky. “Brute.”
“Can we shower now?”
“You’re going to get sick and blame me.”
“Who the fuck blames someone else for getting them sick?”
“Charlie and Alec. Oh, and my dad. My mom is usually more level-headed and rarely gets sick, and Jason just blames his students. I’ve always had a propensity to get sick.
I think it’s the stress and poor sleeping habits.
And since I was always the first one, and then it inevitably got passed around the house, well—” Andrew shrugs.
“It was easier to stay in my room so I didn’t bother anyone. ”
“Bother me.”
Andrew lifts his eyes, and while Nicholas is not so much of an asshole to mention it, Andrew does look like shit. His coloring is off, his face flushed, and there’s a grumpy frown on his face. Even his usually pressed polo is wrinkled.
“I said, bother me.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Try me.”
“You’re being nice and that’s annoying. You still smell like Tony’s shampoo, and I hate it.
I can feel every single place my clothes are touching me, and I want to rip my skin off.
I’m hot, which means I probably have a fever because I’m never hot, which would explain why my heart is pounding, but when my heart pounds, I feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack.
Thinking about having a panic attack stresses me out so much my heart beats faster, and then I can’t tell if it’s the fever or my brain.
I’m also overthinking the way you’re looking at me right now because you said you like me, but you don’t know me well enough yet.
Not all of me, and I want you to, and I don’t want you to, and that makes me want to cry.
I hate crying by the way, it gives me a headache and makes me feel out of control. ”
By the time he’s finished, his hands are trembling, and he looks like a strong wind could knock him over.
“That all?”
“No, I’m pissed off you’re handsome.”
Nicholas barks out a laugh.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re not sorry, you handsome fucker. Do you know how many times I’ve cared that someone is handsome?”
“Uh—”
“Before you, once. And that was a shitshow. I just figured I could exist the rest of my life not caring. And then you came along, being stupidly attractive but like it didn’t matter, because I didn’t like you, so that made you less attractive.
I liked looking at your tattoos, but you as a person—it did nothing for me. ”
Entirely unsure where this is going, Nicholas wisely keeps his mouth shut.
“Then you turned out to be fucking decent.”
“I’m really not.”
“You are to me,” Andrew says, shoving his hand into Nicholas’s chest. He fists his hand in Nicholas’s dress shirt, the tips of his fingers that graze Nicholas’s bare skin burning.
“And I just…don’t care about anyone else.
I should. I always care about everyone else.
I should care that you’re not nice to everyone, but I just don’t?
You treat me good, and you care how I feel, and you don’t care about anyone else, and I selfishly like that, which makes me an awful person, I know, but—”
“Fuck everyone else.”
“See,” Andrew says, pitifully grasping at Nicholas’s shirt. “That’s what I’m talking about. I can’t say that.”
“Then don’t,” Nicholas tells him, pulling Andrew closer. His body sways, like maybe the only thing holding him upright is Nicholas. “Let me be the asshole. I’m good at it. You care about the world, and I’ll care about you.”
“I shouldn’t like that.”
“Says who?” Nicholas asks, lowering his lips to Andrew’s forehead. He’s burning up, and all Nicholas wants to do is get this poor man resting, but he knows Andrew, and if they leave this unfinished, he won’t let it go. “Who told you that?”
“Everyone,” Andrew answers. “Not in words, but in every way that matters. Caring about everyone else, taking care of them, it’s who I am.”
“It’s not all you are,” Nicholas tells him, carefully pulling Andrew’s shirt off. He smooths his palms across his chest, wincing at the heat that radiates off his body.
“What if I don’t know?” Andrew whispers. “What if I got this far in life, and I can’t tell the difference between who everyone needs me to be and who I really am.”
“Then figure it out.”
Andrew shakes his head. “I can’t.”
“You can.”
“No.” His jaw trembles, and Nicholas knows this is enough. He can’t take any more. There’s no rage room here, nothing for Andrew to break except himself.
“Okay, princess.”
“What if this is all I’ll ever be?”
“I’ll still want you.”
“You mean that?”
“I told you.” Nicholas’s lips press to his forehead again, then each of his cheeks. “Every word I say, I mean.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay.”
“Now get naked.”
“Bossy,” Andrew says, complying easily.
It doesn’t escape Nicholas’s notice that even sick and exhausted, Andrew’s eyes follow his hands as he undresses.
The fact that it’s not sexual somehow makes it more erotic for Nicholas, who is no stranger to undressing in front of teammates or bed partners, yet can’t recall ever doing so like this.