19 | the way we say I need you
I'm running like a maniac down the long hallway leading to the entry, throw open the front door and run down the wide stairs where I see Nico's fleeting form. I couldn't just let him go in that state, drunk and dishevelled when something I did caused this, and I can't figure it out. There are obligations and people that expect me to be at that event but like before, Nico's pull is too strong and every logic abandons my brain, I just have to make sure he's alright. Even if that's not alright for me.
I spot him in the car park and he's trying to find his car, which makes me shout his name and run faster—there's no way I will let him drive like this.
"Nico, stop! Shit... Nico!" I reach him finally, breathless.
"No, l-leave me alone, Jordan...I'm fine."
His breathing is heavy and frantic yet he grins desperately. But all that false brightness is gone in a second as he presses his hand on his mouth, suddenly turning around and bending, the content of his stomach rushes out of him in the bushes behind his car.
"Yeah, I can see how fine you are." I hold his forehead and rub his back even though I'm not sure any of that helps. "That's good, let it all out. You'll feel better."
His body heaves a few times before the coughing finally subsides. Soon after he sits back on the concrete, leaning on the car tire and just takes deep breaths, with his eyes closed.
"Come on, I'll drive you home."
"N-no, I'm... it's ok, I'll manage. You need to go back in."
"I'll message my mate, I'll tell him I've been sick and had to go home. They'll understand."
His eyes are a different shade of brown than the ones I was used to having stare back at me. All dark and serious like the deep water of that sea he'd grown up on—he looks at me like he's going to cry again. He doesn't comment, just gets up and I guide him to the passenger door.
It takes me a while to find his home even with the sat-nav on my phone that I made Nico type his address in. And he's no help after shifting as far away from me as possible to his right, the side of his head pressed against the window, eyes flat, unblinking and fixed forward. In silence. I'm still struggling with driving through Madrid traffic and unfamiliar streets but I get there somehow. It's a picturesque part of town, a posh residential area with high buildings, fountains and neatly planted rows of trees. I park where he points and he doesn't protest when I follow him to his door.
If I need more proof that Nico is rich it's right here, inside his top-floor flat, but I don't bother with the tour, I guide his stumbling drunk self into the bathroom.
"Sit down. Come on. Arms up." I take his shirt off and he groans as he's sitting on a closed toilet seat.
"Please, don't make me shower now," he licks his lips nervously when they tremble.
"Only a little bit, yeah? You'll feel better. Are you still in pain?"
"Pain?"
"I hurt you," I'm hesitant to touch him anywhere where is naked skin, "Come on, help me take your trousers off. Is there blood?"
"No, you didn't hurt me," he mumbles, "what are you talking about?"
"I thought it was the..." I pause and search for the right words, trying to explain with only my eyes. "I... I was pretty rough when we... I thought I hurt you, down there...and then you got upset..."
"Oh. No... Jordan," he cuts me off and cups my face. "I promise you, my ass is fine. There's your cum but not blood." He tries to smile after his crude description and I cringe because once again I lost my mind with him, not thinking about my health. His health. Condoms were the last thing on my mind at that moment. All reason abandons me when Nico is close and that should be a good warning sign.
"Jesus..." I squirm, words faltering, "can you please explain to me why did you cry then?"
"Because..." he exhales, a longing intonation in his voice, "... because I realised that would be our last time. I pushed you again, manipulated you, knowing that you would cave. But once we were done with the sex I knew you wouldn't want to have anything with me ever again. You would see the real me and I didn't want you to see that kind of ugliness."
His eyes have a feverish sheen and dark circles make crescents under his eyes. This troubled look is not because of tonight—he's been holding this in for a while, the dam just decided to break now. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who..."
"Nico," I cover his mouth with my finger cutting off his drunken rambling, "Breathe..." I tell him. And he listens to me.
"You're not ugly," I continue as I remove my hand, "You have the face that all the men want but there's so much more to you. Your looks would be empty on anyone else. It's who you are that fills everything in. But what's ugly is what we did." I exhale a heavy sigh, "It shouldn't have happened, Nico, not like this, it's reckless and irresponsible."
"Maybe but I don't regret it. I wanted you inside of me, bare. I haven't done that with anyone, Jordan."
Heat crawls along my cheeks as I avert my eyes toward the tiled floor—of course Nico will say something like this, something so obscene but equally romantic in a way. I don't know what to think. I'm trying to convince myself that what I did was wrong but actually to have the evidence of my pleasure still inside of him makes me feel electrified, possessive.
A part of me feels like this is a big deal. We have this special bond, the lust is so strong that it can't be ignored and even though he shamelessly pushed my buttons for his goal, I'm equally to blame—there was not a second where I thought I should stop. But it's also so much more than that. It pains me to see him like this, and the need to chase away all his demons is bigger than the physical attraction.
"Come, brush your teeth while I get the shower ready."
He squeezes my hand and just obeys without saying anything. As he sits on the tiled floor of the shower, slumped, with his head on his raised knees I hold the showerhead above him, and observe his sad, exhausted form.
"What am I going to do with you?" I ask myself as I push his wet hair from his forehead and the surge of longing, affection and confusion catches me by the throat.
Afterwards, I hand him the towel but he just drops it. I try not to look at his body because I'm not sure if I'm capable of acting casually around naked Nico. He's my worst form of temptation. I sigh and pick the towel up and wrap it around him and throw him over my shoulder making him squeal ungracefully.
"Fuck, Jordan, was that necessary..." he squirms. "Ok, never mind I've got quite a good view from here." He chuckles and it takes a lot of effort not to smack his ass that is in my peripheral, so close to my face.
"I've got a pretty good view too," I suppress the urge to pat his cheeks as I'm walking. "Where's your bedroom?"
"This one," he says and I enter the door, as he giggles, still hanging down my back, but now he starts dipping his fingers under the waistband of my trousers. I drop him on the bed before he manages anything.
"Aw, I loved it there."
There's a big cheesy grin on his face as his nakedness hits me again, splayed on the mattress. I throw the towel at him, stony-faced but in truth enjoying this back and forth after all the drama. When I start walking away he grabs my hand. "Stay with me. At least until I fall asleep. I'll behave, I promise."
I hate myself for giving in but I feel exhausted, both mentally and physically. These past few weeks at the new club have been so hard and stressful for me and this evening was a real rollercoaster. I'm also not entirely convinced that he is feeling better, I know how good he is at faking it for the entire world on daily basis. So I make sure to switch all the lights off before taking this damn suit off. It's risky to be in only my boxers in the same bed as Nico but I know I won't allow myself any more mistakes. I pull the covers and lie next to him, only moonlight mixed with street lights pouring through the windows. His eyes are already closed but his hand is searching for me in the big bed.
"I'm sorry," he whispers sleepily and I feel his warm breath across my bare chest before he kisses it gently. I hesitate, still careful not to move or touch him any more than we already are.
"Me too," I say, quietly but firmly.
"I'd never put you in danger like that, you have to know that. I'm healthy and I can show you my test results, we don't need condoms."
"We do. I mean, we did. It's reckless. It's..."
"You're the only one, Jordan. The whole summer. There was nobody else for me."
My heart beats a mile a minute at the implication of his words. There is too much potential for hope in only one simple sentence and I can't let myself get carried away. "Nico, I..."
"Shhh... let's sleep now, yeah?" He murmurs, sensing my unease. It is the quiet time, the time Nico likes best, so I close my eyes and allow my mind to drift away, cuddled up with his arms wrapped around me like he doesn't ever want to let go. Like he trusts me to take care of him.
This wasn't love, it couldn't be. Love is such a big word and I always expected it to look so much different than this when it comes. Something that calms you. But I clearly didn't know anything about it. What I did know is that he feels like something special. Someone I need in my life.
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