by R. J. Moray
But Nate didn’t seem to care. He leaned down to kiss Ewan once, and then crawled over him up the bed. “Come up here,” he said, tapping the covers.
Ewan wriggled up there. This was his bed. Those were his pillows Nate was lying on, with his impossible smirk, lit only by the light streaming in from the hall. It made Ewan want to vibrate out of his skin with the unfairness of it all.
Nate smiled. Ewan went to him and crawled up his chest, finding his mouth and licking at it. Nate caught the back of his skull and held him still, holding him with both hands and kissing him over and over until Ewan felt drunk. Nate. God, he wanted. He wanted Nate to do something to him, something wrong and dirty, something he could cling to and think, You’re no better than me, and then, I’m nothing so you’re nothing.
But Nate seemed determined to thwart him. He hummed into Ewan’s mouth and kissed a trail along his jaw up to his ear, kissing and licking and sighing at him. “You’re fucking delightful, you know that?” he hissed in Ewan’s ear, and Ewan felt it shudder into him, settling into his bones like a curse.
He straddled Nate’s hips, catching him between his thighs, and rubbed himself up against Nate’s taut belly. It earned him a groan, and two hands on his ass, squeezing him tight, grinding him down against Nate’s hips, and he felt so fucking drunk on it. It was like falling from a height, or drowning, or the world dropping away and leaving him stranded at the highest point in the universe.
And Nate’s arms came around him, hugging him down.
“Hey. Okay?”
Ewan nodded, but he couldn’t speak.
“It’s okay. If you want to stop.”
Ewan shook his head harder, unable to swallow the knot in his throat.
“Do you want to stop?”
“No,” Ewan managed, but it was wrong, thick and wet and humiliating. “Don’t stop.”
“But you’re crying,” Nate said, stroking his cheek. It was wet. His fingers left trails on Ewan’s skin and Ewan scrubbed at his face, ashamed of himself and at that same time glad because…now it was out in the open. Now Nate knew. Now he’d turn it on Ewan and Ewan could hate him and—
Nate tugged him down onto his side, rolling up onto one elbow. He stroked Ewan’s side, along his arm. He slid his palm up over Ewan’s shoulder in smooth, soothing arcs, and he waited, watching. Ewan couldn’t look him in the eye. What the fuck was wrong with him?
“Better?” Nate asked, gentle. His ‘Nice Dom’ voice, but Ewan didn’t want ‘Nice Dom’ he wanted…he didn’t know, but it was supposed to hurt. “No? Take your time.”
Fuck, it was awful. “Don’t be nice to me,” Ewan snarled, and Nate looked surprised for all of a moment, but then Ewan had thumped a fist on Nate’s chest and Nate’s expression tightened. He caught Ewan’s wrist, holding it still, but he didn’t say anything, letting Ewan say it all. “You can’t be nice to me, I’m not…you’re supposed to…why are you doing this?”
Nate’s eyes tracked his face, seeking something Ewan didn’t know how to give, and then— “You’re not what?”
“What?”
“You said, ‘I’m not’. ‘Don’t be nice to me, I’m not.’ Not what?”
Ewan took a deep breath. “Not worth it.”
The grip on his wrist tightened, the bands there digging into his skin. “Not worth being nice to?”
“Anything,” Ewan told him, and it felt like knocking down every wall he had left between them.
There. Nate knew now. It was the end of everything and all because of what? Because Nate had taken him to a movie and let him eat all the junk he wanted? Had bought him a burger and shared his chips? Had let him steal his milkshake? And then taken off his boots for him, wanted to make out with him, asked him if he was okay when he was crying?
Just for that? God, he was so fucking stupid, how could he be so stupid?
But.
The world had ended. And Nate was still here. His hands were big and warm, with those long typist fingers and neatly filed nails, still stroking Ewan’s wrist as if he hadn’t just admitted the awful truth about himself. Nate was watching him calmly, but didn’t seem to be judging him. He didn’t look disgusted or disappointed, or like he was going to argue about it—the worst possible thing. No, he’d accepted it. And now?
Now he let go of Ewan’s wrist to rub the back of his neck. “It doesn’t matter if you’re worth it,” Nate said softly. “I like being nice to you.”
“You like hurting me,” Ewan argued, and Nate nodded solemnly.
“I love hurting you. But hurting you wouldn’t mean anything if I was never nice to you, too.”
It didn’t make any sense. Ewan tried not to lean into the hand on his neck, tried not to tug himself up to Nate’s chest. “I’m rubbish,” he said. “You can’t be nice to rubbish, it doesn’t understand.”
“Why are you rubbish?”
“I am. Look at me.”
Nate rolled him onto his back, propping himself up to look him over. “I see the body of a young man with nothing at all wrong with him. I mean, you could stand to gain some weight, if you wanted, bulk up if you liked, but like this?” He smoothed a palm down Ewan’s front. “I like you like this. Fragile-looking, when you aren’t fragile at all.”
Ewan knew he wasn’t fragile because he was already broken. “I’m not worth it.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t say no.”
“You’ve said no to me dozens of times,” Nate argued. His hand resumed its lazy circuit of Ewan’s chest, lingering a little over his nipples. “Who are you not saying no to?”
“Anyone,” Ewan lied, closing his eyes. “Everyone. I’m a slut.”
Nate hummed, trailing fingertips over his ribs. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” Ewan opened his eyes to glare. “You don’t know where I’ve been.”
“Then I’ll make sure I use a condom,” Nate said dryly. He ran his hand up Ewan’s throat over the leather there, cupping him in his palm for a heady moment before reaching up to finger his lip. “Ewan. If you want me to stop I’ll stop. Just say it. I’ll go home and we can try again another time, okay? No harm no foul.”
But that wasn’t what Ewan wanted. “Can’t you just…don’t be nice to me, just…just hurt me. Just fuck me up.”
“That’s not what we agreed tonight,” Nate said calmly, stroking the bridge of Ewan’s nose like he was quieting a horse. “But, you know, if you’re saying this is too vanilla for you, then…I can be rough. Do you want that?” He traced Ewan’s brow, watching him with this tender expression Ewan didn’t know how to take. “I need an answer, but you can take your time.”
Ewan put his hands on Nate’s shoulders, then his arms around Nate’s neck, pulling himself up to kiss him. Nate kissed him back, let him into his mouth and pressed back firm with his tongue, but when Ewan arched up against him Nate drew away from him.
“I’m taking these off,” Nate said, kneeling up on the bed with his hands at the zip of his jeans. “And then we’re going to finish our talk.”
It seemed the wrong order, but Nate unfastened his jeans and shoved them down, and Ewan realized he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. It was just him, his cock half-firm and thick, and Ewan felt his mouth water at the sight of it. God, he wanted that in his mouth, so badly. Nate must have seen his face because his smile turned into a smirk.
“You want this?”
Ewan nodded.
“Do you want it rough? Or are you going to let me do what I want with you?”
There was a right answer to this. Ewan should have said that he wanted whatever Nate wanted, and there was a part of him that wanted that. But he couldn’t take it. If Nate was nice to him now he felt like he might snap. So he shook his head, feeling willful and disobedient and frustrated, and said, “Rough.”
Nate’s expression didn’t change, he just slid all the way out of his jeans and took something from the pocket before tossing them on the floor. Then he wrapped a hand around Ewan’s ankle and tu
gged him hard enough he slid half a foot down the bed. “Like this?”
“Yes,” Ewan breathed, and then Nate was on him, straddling his hips. The weight of him pressed Ewan down into the mattress as Nate smirked, running a hand over his own dick.
“You wanted to suck this,” he said. Ewan nodded, his pulse throbbing in his throat, and then Nate picked up a square foil packet and Ewan groaned.
“Really?”
“Yes fucking really. Jesus, Ewan,” and Nate tossed the packet onto Ewan’s belly, still stroking himself, his dick growing thick and full. “No wonder you think you’re dirty.”
For a second Ewan felt it like a curse, but then he looked up and Nate had his tongue caught in his teeth, was jerking himself off slow and steady, his forearm bunching with every stroke, and Ewan thought, He doesn’t even care. He wouldn’t care if I did have something.
Because Nate had said, Then I’ll make sure I use a condom, and now…fuck. It wasn’t even true, and Nate didn’t give a fuck about it.
“It gets you off,” Ewan said, throwing himself into it because if Nate was going to play this game, Ewan could play too. “You love the idea of fucking something dirty.”
“I love the idea of fucking you,” Nate said, working a twist into the end of his up-stroke, his hips hitching as he rocked up into his hand. “I think you’re one who gets off on it.”
“What?”
Nate leaned down, his hand still working his cock, and looked Ewan right in the eye. “The thought of me putting my nice clean dick in your dirty fucking mouth.”
It went through Ewan like an electric jolt. Fucking hell, he wanted that, wanted Nate to just shove that thing in his mouth and choke him with it. He sucked in a gasp, unable to do anything but blink helplessly. Nate grinned and pecked his cheek.
“Yeah, you love that. Want me to flood your mouth with come? I bet you swallow.”
Ewan whined, and he had his hands on Nate’s shoulders, trying to tug him down, or up, or whatever just to get Nate in his mouth. He felt dizzy, crazy, so needy his hips jacked up fruitlessly, rutting against nothing and desperate.
Nate chuckled. “You know the rules, dirty boy.” He sat up, and flicked the condom packet up so it hit Ewan in the chin. “Put that on me and you can suck it.”
It took a gargantuan effort not to swear at him. Ewan made himself take the foil packet and tear it open. Nate held himself out for Ewan to roll it on. It felt strange for this to be the first time Ewan got his hands on Nate’s cock, too far too fast, but then Nate was kneeling up over his chest, and he had Ewan’s hands in his, lifting them up to pin them together against the headboard. Then he was in Ewan’s face, and Ewan craned his neck to lick up the taut latex barrier between them.
“Yeah, go on.” Nate caught both Ewan’s wrists in one hand, and reached down with the other to knot his fingers in Ewan’s hair. “Show me what you can do.”
It was humiliating, and sent a flush up Ewan’s chest, spilling over his throat and no doubt staining him red. Nate’s grip tightened, and Ewan licked at the latex again. The light sheen of lube was sweetish, artificial, and he licked it away as best he could, trying to catch the head of Nate’s cock with his lips. Nate shifted, pushing into Ewan’s mouth, and Ewan moaned, his face hot, because this was what he wanted and Nate was giving it to him.
It was exactly right, exactly as humiliating and helpless as he’d wanted. Nate’s grip on his hair hurt just enough to make his eyes water, and then he sucked and Nate thrust down into his throat.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Nate gasped, sounding surprised. “Shit, Ewan, you’re good at this.” It sounded like a compliment but Ewan could hear what went unsaid—You’re good at this because you’ve had a lot of practice, haven’t you, slut? It felt like an accusation. But then— “Jesus, Ewan, whoever taught you to do this deserves a fucking medal.”
That felt…he didn’t know. Humiliating, but in the right way. Whatever it was, Ewan moaned and sucked, and swirled his tongue up to press along the length of latex-clad cock in his mouth. He relaxed his throat, took Nate down and swallowed on him, tried to get him as deep as he could go and nearly choked himself as Nate thrust smooth and slow into his mouth. God, he wanted it, wanted to gag on it, wanted Nate to spill down his throat so he’d taste the seawater-bitterness of it for hours. He wanted this fucking condom off and he wanted the taste of Nate’s skin between his lips, to feel the velvet-softness over hard flesh, the salt of his sweat.
Nate’s hand in his hair pulled him back. “Fuck,” Nate breathed. “You beautiful little bastard.”
He slid his dick out of Ewan’s mouth. He was breathing hard, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. There was color in his cheeks and splashed across his collarbones, and he looked dangerous, like someone Ewan should be afraid of.
“Keep your hands on the headboard,” Nate said, low down and gravelly, and Ewan curled his fingers to hold on, knowing that if he let go Nate would stop. It was like a safeword, only somehow better because Nate hadn’t actually promised anything. Ewan trusted him. Fuck did he? He did, Jesus, what was wrong with him?
Nate moved down his body until he’d settled in between Ewan’s legs, Ewan’s knees spread wide and pulled up over Nate’s thick thighs. He tore open another foil packet and rolled it onto the first two fingers of one hand, and Ewan felt his whole body clench up because…Nate was going to finger him.
“I’m clean,” Ewan said, embarrassed.
“Really? That’s not what you told me.”
“No, I mean,” and his face felt hot and red, “I’m clean. I…cleaned up for this.”
“Just in case I fucked you?” Nate teased. “Eager. Is that why you were running late? Getting ready for me?”
Ewan turned his face to the side, skin blistering with embarrassment. “Aren’t you glad I did?” he demanded, humiliated.
“I’m so fucking glad you did,” Nate said, lubing up his fingers. “And I trimmed my nails, but I’m still doing this, okay? Not that I don’t believe you,” he added, running his free hand down Ewan’s belly, tickling him so his muscles jumped.
And then his fingers were down between Ewan’s cheeks, stroking him firmly, and Ewan felt like his tongue had swollen up in his mouth, or his lungs had shrunk, or something, because Nate was watching his face, his eyes dark, his mouth open to show the sharp edge of his teeth, and he was watching, waiting to see Ewan feel the first press of fingers sliding into him.
It felt strange. It always did. Ewan’s body tried to fight it, but this time, this time he wanted it. God, how he wanted. For Nate to be inside him, finally, to fuck him the way he’d been eye-fucking him all this time.
Nate pushed into him slow and firm, and Ewan tried to breathe into it, tried to hold still, tried to relax.
“Touch yourself,” Nate said, firm like an order, and deep down enough that Ewan got delicious subby chills from it. “One hand. Keep the other right where I put it.” Ewan obeyed at once, and felt a shiver of blissful satisfaction from the way Nate smiled at him, watching Ewan’s hand work on himself. “I like your dick,” Nate said conversationally, the way he’d told Ewan he looked good earlier. “I like the way it fits in your hand. I’d really like to eat it, one day.”
Ewan groaned, the arm still attached to the headboard straining with the effort not to reach out. Like a complete bastard, Nate licked his lips and then laughed at whatever expression was plastered over Ewan’s face.
“Oh, baby, you okay?”
“I hate you,” Ewan lied. Nate crooked his fingers, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body, and Ewan yelped in spite of himself.
“Yeah, you hate me,” Nate agreed, sounding almost tender. “I’m going to make you hate me so fucking much.”
One thrust and Ewan forgot why he was mad. God, Nate felt good in him, torturing him mercilessly with quick quirks of his fingers. Ewan tugged at himself, moaning helplessly, his body winching tighter with each press and wriggle inside him. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted Nate to fuck him,
wanted it now. He’d waited too fucking long for this, it wasn’t fair!
“Please,” he begged, “please give it to me. Give me that, please!” And when that didn’t work. “You’ll get blue balls and die, come on, shove it in me before it fucking drops off!”
Nate laughed, a full-bodied laughter that he couldn’t seem to stop. “You,” he spluttered, “are the most romantic jerk in the fucking universe,” and then he was pulling out, unpeeling the condom from his fingers and lubing up his cock, hiking Ewan’s knee over one elbow and jerking his hips up off the bed. “Here you fucking go,” he said, bending down to lick Ewan’s nipple. Then he bit it hard, and when Ewan yelped in outrage, slid his cock in.
Sudden fullness made Ewan jerk, and Nate bit him again, the sharp pain distracting him from the heavy burn of Nate pressing into him. “Fuck!” Ewan raked his nails across Nate’s hip and Nate caught his wrist, forcing his hand back onto the headboard.
“Can you hold onto that for me?” Nate asked, saccharine sweet, and Ewan wanted to bite him back for all of a second before Nate had hoisted his hips up and fucked down into him in one smooth, deep stroke, and all the words went flying out of Ewan’s head. Jesus Christ.
Nate made a guttural sound and slid almost all the way out before pounding straight back in, and Ewan’s throat hurt like he’d screamed.
“Shhh,” Nate said, wrapping a hand around Ewan’s throat and pressing down hard enough Ewan felt an instinctive panic rise up in him. “Do you really want your neighbors to call the police?”
They wouldn’t. Not for this. Ewan shook his head, though, and tried to hold in the sound Nate was coaxing out of him with every rock of his hips. His arms ached from gripping the headboard, his thighs burning as Nate took him in heavy thrusts, angling himself so that Ewan whimpered through his teeth each time Nate hit his prostate. Fuck, it was like his dick was laser-guided, finding exactly the right angle to make Ewan howl and beg, and then Nate gripped him by the shoulder and hammered him. It was too much. Ewan broke, his whole body shuddering as he came all over himself. It felt like a supernova, exploding somewhere deep in his body, something destructive and final, and it shook him to pieces, knocking the breath right out of him.
