by Suki Fleet
“Try not to look so terrified. I’m beginning to regret this.” Nicky stretched his arms above his head, turned and dropped his head back so his hair fell in Cai’s lap. He arched his back and gripped the arms of the chair with his hands, still watching Cai but now upside down.
Cai took a deep breath. “I am terrified. You’re… beautiful.”
The words seemed to soften Nicky’s expression and he glanced away. If Cai’s brain had been working a bit faster, he would have perhaps remembered sooner that Nicky’s snappiness was worse when he was anxious.
Cai tried again, with a bit more confidence. “You’re stunning. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
With his back to Cai, Nicky moved closer and closer, until he was almost sitting directly in Cai’s lap.
There was no music, only the beat of the rain on the window, the whisper and hiss of the fire. Whatever beat was playing in Nicky’s head flowed into the way he moved, and he closed his eyes and danced slowly, his hips shifting, thighs brushing Cai’s as he dipped lower, then lower again.
It was hot to watch but at the same time excruciatingly intimate. Cai was too uncomfortable and out of his depth to enjoy the sight of Nicky dancing for him. And, although he was turned on, he thought he would probably have been more turned on if Nicky stopped dancing and just sat down opposite. He wondered how long a lap dance lasted.
And then… he didn’t.
One slightly turned swing of Nicky’s hips and Cai saw Nicky wasn’t just dancing for him—Nicky was into it. He was as turned on as Cai was, his erection stretching at the fabric of his super-tight briefs.
Heat burned through Cai’s veins and blood rushed in his ears. Nicky being turned on while he was doing this turned Cai on like a blast furnace. The circumstances had definitely changed. Biting his lip, Cai reached down and cupped his hand over his hard-on and squeezed. The movement must have caught Nicky’s eye and he stopped, tilted his head and reached between his legs to stroke himself.
Cai groaned, copying the movement.
Nicky started moving again. Dirtier this time. Not seeming to care how low his arse dipped or if he brushed Cai’s dick with it.
Sliding lower in the seat, Cai opened his legs wide. For a moment Nicky ground down on his upper thigh, the muscles of his arm tensing and shaking as his hand moved rapidly inside his skimpy shorts.
Cai stopped stroking himself.
Fuck. Would it be okay if he actually came? Or was he supposed to somehow hold off? Because he had no idea how the fuck to not come and he was getting close to not caring.
But when Nicky yanked his skimpy pants aside and pushed backwards to rub his naked crack up and down the length of Cai’s still fully covered dick, there was no more thinking. Cai shuddered, making his hands into fists so he couldn’t reach out for Nicky’s hips. He knew the rule—kept chanting no touching in his head—but he was desperate to pull Nicky down, to grind against him harder, faster. Nicky reached back and spread his arse cheeks. Cai couldn’t bite back his groan this time. It was the first sound either of them had made apart from the panting. He was sure he heard Nicky whimper in response. Fuck, Cai was going to come. Sweat trickled down between Nicky’s shoulder blades, and the skin of his upper back was flushed dusky pink, the colour contrasting with the deep red of his hair. Everything about him was beautiful.
Keeping his hands in place to spread himself wide, Nicky worked his hips slower and slower, grinding up and down the whole of Cai’s dick, root to tip. Every so often he’d lift off, giving Cai a spectacular view and Cai would go weak and nearly lose it. All he could think about was fingering Nicky open, of tugging his own sweatpants down and feeling Nicky’s hot sweaty skin pressed tight against his own, of licking and fucking him with his tongue…. Nicky’s hand brushed Cai’s where he was squeezing the base of his dick in an effort to hold back. Cai loosened his fingers, let Nicky lift his dick, push it against his naked arse, and begin to rub mercilessly against him again, harder this time. The friction against his skin, of Nicky’s hand on the cotton so close to actually touching him, was going to drive him crazy. He couldn’t take it.
“Fuck, Nicky,” he gasped, arching off the chair as his balls tightened and his whole body thrummed, pushed past the point of no return.
Not even Nicky leaping up and darting from the room could stop the force of his orgasm as it rocked through him. His dick pulsed over and over. Without the trousers covering him, he was pretty sure he’d have painted the fucking ceiling.
Cai palmed himself through the cotton, thighs shuddering with aftershocks, and stared at the open door. Fuck fuck fuck.
Slinging an arm across his face, he groaned. That had not gone how he’d expected in any way, and Nicky had… Nicky was gone. He’d felt Cai start to come and he’d run, because it was too far. It was crossing a line. Never mind that Nicky was the one that pushed things to the line, Cai should have had more restraint and held back. He should have tried harder. Nicky was probably holed up in the other room, waiting for Cai to sort himself out and calling him all the names under the sun. Fuck, this was all kinds of messed up.
Such sweetness in the fail, Nicky
Forehead pressed against the cold tiles lining the bathroom wall, legs trembling, fist in his mouth, Nicky jerked himself to completion with a few furious strokes. He gasped around his hand at the intensity and bit down hard enough to draw blood.
Afterwards he sank, boneless, to the floor. He’d made a mess. At least tiles were easy to clean. For a moment, he stayed like that, waiting for his breathing to calm, his blood to stop pounding.
A floorboard creaked in the hallway, but it barely registered.
Cai’s voice startled him but he suppressed the urge to show it. “We could have, you know, together….”
Why hadn’t he closed the fucking door?
With shaking hands, Nicky dragged his underwear back up his thighs and over his softening dick, then stood, before turning to face Cai, who was standing in the doorway.
“This was a mistake. Leave me the fuck alone.” He reached up and pulled the nearest T-shirt down off the drying rack, needing to be covered over and not so exposed. Because right then he felt like a broken tooth, a nerve so raw everything was painful.
The T shirt he’d chosen was as stiff as cardboard and rough against his hypersensitive skin. He hated putting clothing back on straight after sex. He turned away, taking his time pulling it over his head, expecting Cai to come up with some sort of argument. He was ready to fucking let fly when Cai did, his tongue so sharp it was going to cut his mouth.
These past few days trying to figure out what was going on in his own head, feeling the tension growing every time Cai had so much as fucking looked at him was a… a fucking waste of time. This, fucking this, wasn’t what he wanted. This was cold. He felt like a whore. Like he was living up to Cyril’s fucking twisted name for him. He wanted to fucking scream. Lashing out felt like the only way he could deal with anything since he’d been entombed in this fucking house. And he was so fucking good at it. His anger at losing control and letting any of this happen—of fucking wanting it to happen—burned deep inside him, tangling up with his anger at everything else.
He pulled the T-shirt all the way down, turned back and blinked.
Cai was no longer in the doorway.
The force of Nicky’s fury faded.
He stomped back to the study. The towel he’d discarded on the floor lay in a tangled heap with his other clothes. But Cai, and all evidence he’d been there, apart from a small wet stain on the wood near the fire from his socks, had vanished. Nicky picked up a cushion and threw it at the door. Then he picked up another, before dropping it and huffing out a breath.
He’d asked Cai to leave him alone, so why was he so fucking frustrated that Cai had done just that? He hated feeling like this—like he didn’t know what it was he wanted.
Pressing his face to the rainy glass of the window he searched the garden for Cai. He breathed quietly and listened. No
sawing, no hacking, no can of bees, nothing. Irritated, Nicky pulled on a pair of leggings, stuffed his feet in his scratchy canvas shoes, then marched down the corridor to the kitchen. Even the thought of Fox Mask lying in wait for him when he least expected it couldn’t take his thoughts away from Cai.
On the threshold he paused, staring at the lawn and steeling himself, then stepped outside.
Cai was still in the grounds somewhere, and despite how annoying he was and how annoyed Nicky was with him, Nicky still, stupidly and for no discernible or obvious reason, felt safer with him around. And that stupid feeling shrank his fear enough to let him march through the overgrowth at the side of the house that he’d watched Cai clearing earlier.
Cai wasn’t there either.
Fat drops of rain dripped through the trees. The ground was becoming a swampy, muddy mess. Picking his way over the puddles, Nicky headed towards the front of the house.
Cai’s van was in the driveway. Nicky marched towards it, then hesitated. The van’s engine was running—he hadn’t heard it over the noise of the rain. Cai was in the driver’s seat, head bowed as though he was reading something in his lap.
He glanced up as Nicky had a major stealth fail and stumbled on the stones, then wound his window down.
Without the protection of the trees, the rain fell relentlessly, the wind gusted. The cardboard T-shirt offered no protection and the rough material stuck uncomfortably to Nicky’s ribs. He’d dragged a loose armful of hair over his shoulder to try and keep the long wisps from whipping against his face. Shivering hard he hugged his hair to his chest. This was why he never went outside with his hair down. Yet another reason to never try and seduce someone, ever again.
Cai watched him through the open window, not saying anything. He looked tired. Orgasms sometimes made Nicky sleepy, but Cai didn’t look like that sort of tired.
“Are you leaving?” Nicky tensed his jaw around the words as he tried to stop his teeth chattering.
Cai considered the question for too long. “Do you want me to?”
They stared at one another.
Nicky bit down on his lip. “No.”
Cai leaned across the passenger seat and pushed the passenger door open. “Get in.”
“Why?”
Holding his gaze, Cai folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow.
With a huff, Nicky stepped around the other side of the van and climbed in. It had been two years since he’d been inside a vehicle. The last time had been the night Lance brought him here in his Jag. The night he’d saved him. Nicky couldn’t remember it, but Lance had told him that’s what’d happened often enough. Cai’s van was no Jag, but it was out of the rain at least. He pulled the door shut behind him.
“That’s not shut—you have to slam it.”
Nicky opened the door, then slammed it so hard the van shook and Cai’s toolbox clattered over in the back. He looked away.
“Want to go for a drive?”
“A drive?” Nicky’s chest felt tight at the suggestion.
“You need things. I need things. Clothes, groceries. We could go and get them.”
“Where?”
“Town. The supermarket. You tell me.”
Nicky gripped the car door. The plastic was tacky against his skin. He wanted to get out of the van. He couldn’t go shopping like this. He needed another shower, and to change into some better clothes, or at least some clothes without holes in. Did he have any clothes without holes in any more? Wasn’t that why he needed to go shopping? He wasn’t ready.
He’d never be ready. “What about the police?”
“I doubt I’m that important they’re going to be looking for my van in every car park in town. And anyway, you’re my alibi, right?”
Nicky folded his arms across his chest and did his best not to bring his knees up and curl around them. “How far?”
“Town is a fifteen-to-twenty-minute drive, or there’s a big supermarket about ten minutes in the other direction.”
Rain pelted against the windscreen. Nicky failed to keep his teeth from chattering.
“I’m not kidnapping you, Nicky. You’re going to have to give me a yes or a no.”
Cai was watching him too closely so Nicky closed his eyes. “Just drive, okay. Don’t give me a way out.”
Nicky made it to the end of the driveway with his eyes shut. If he could just keep them closed for the whole journey, perhaps he’d get there and be okay.
He wasn’t okay.
Leaning his head back in the seat he tried to relax, tried to concentrate on his breathing. The windscreen wipers squeaked and sucked. The rain hammered. The van’s wheels whooshed along the wet road.
Cai broke the uneasy silence. “Are we just not going to talk about… you know, what just happened?”
Nicky clenched his jaw. “Not right now.”
“Okay. I just—”
“Look. Right now, I’m having enough difficulty dealing with existing. I can’t fucking talk at the same time.”
That seemed to shut Cai up.
In virtually no time at all the van stopped. They had arrived somewhere. Somewhere with people. Nicky could hear the low hum of voices, the rumble of other vehicles, metal carts being dragged across concrete, the yelling of kids too young to be at school. His heart felt as though it was skipping all the important beats. How had they got here so quickly? He needed more time to get used to the idea.
“Where are we?” he asked. He couldn’t quite catch his breath.
“Supermarket. We’re in a corner of the car park. It’s pretty quiet.”
It was not pretty quiet.
Feeling light-headed, Nicky opened his eyes. All he could see was the dark green of a large bush in front of them. He didn’t want to turn around, but the sounds from behind rushed at him. People were coming. He didn’t know who they were or what they were capable of. They were too close. Everything was too big and too close. Shoving his fists over his ears, Nicky tried to shut the noises out. Every time he tried and failed to take a deep enough breath, he panicked a little more.
“Get in the car, Nicky. This is a really good idea, Nicky,” he gasped out in as mocking a tone as he could as he struggled for breath. His blood pounded in his ears.
He was going to pass out.
Cai pushed a large crumpled A4 envelope at his face. “Here. I’ve scrunched the end up. Try to breathe slowly into it.”
“What?… It’s a… fucking… envelope….”
“It’s all I’ve got and you’re hyperventilating. When you breathe so fast you take in too much oxygen and it makes you feel light-headed, like you’re going to pass out. Breathing the recycled air in the envelope will cut down on the oxygen.”
Nicky snatched the envelope. “Keep… talking.”
“What? What about?”
Nicky closed his eyes, hands clenched around the crinkly top of the envelope, noisily sucking all the air from it every time he took a breath.
“Anything.”
“I could tell you about Katy? Soph’s mum,” Cai began tentatively. He didn’t seem to get that Nicky just needed to hear his voice, that it didn’t matter what Cai talked about. Nicky just needed something to focus on. “She was my half-sister. I didn’t even know I had a half-sister until she came to visit me one day a few months into my sentence….”
Cai talked. His words were lights in the dark. Minutes passed, and little by little Nicky’s breathing slowed and his shakiness eased.
At some point the rain had stopped and the sky around them darkened. Cai had stopped talking and there was silence in the van. The noise from the car park seemed to have become less busy, less intense. If Cai’s wing mirror hadn’t been hanging limply, Nicky might even have hazarded a quick glance in it at the supermarket behind them. It was probably for the best that it was and he didn’t.
Cai asked, “Want me to take you home?”
Nicky nodded.
The drive back was barely traumatic at all.
Cai pulled up in front of the house. The quiet when he turned the engine off was profound. Nicky wasn’t sure what broken impulse made him disturb it. “I didn’t know that was going to happened.”
“I kind of gathered that.” Cai turned in his seat but Nicky made no move to look at him. “I….” Cai took a deep breath. “You look like you need a hug but I also kind of want to keep all my limbs and, you know, most of my teeth. I’m not a big fan of pain of any sort, just so you know.”
Staring at his hands, Nicky snorted back a laugh, then scowled, annoyed that the sound had burst out of him before he could stop it.
Cai sat watching him, not moving.
“Stop staring at me, and get it over with, then,” Nicky huffed.
Even though he was expecting it, he still nearly leapt out of his skin when Cai’s big palm circled his shoulder.
Cai stopped. “You sure about—”
“Yes,” he hissed. “I’m just… sensitive to stuff sometimes.” That was an understatement. Closing his eyes, he held himself still and didn’t breathe as Cai’s arms came around him in the gentlest hug he’d ever experienced. He would not lean into it, nope, no chance. But he wanted to. He badly, badly wanted to.
After less than ten seconds, Cai began to move away. Nicky didn’t want that either. Gripping the front of Cai’s T-shirt, Nicky pulled him back. And Cai let himself be pulled.
Up close, Cai smelled of the inside of his van, of rain water, sex and sweat. He smelled ridiculously safe. Steady and strong, his heart thumped against Nicky’s shoulder as their bodies pressed awkwardly around the gearstick.
“One minute,” Nicky whispered, his grip tightening on the material in his fist.
“One minute,” Cai agreed.
They remained locked together until Nicky’s hand began to ache, and even Cai’s warmth couldn’t keep him from shivering in the chilly night air.
“Your van is draughty as hell,” Nicky murmured, holding his mouth open against the soft material of Cai’s top, even though it was in desperate need of a wash.
“It’s falling apart,” Cai agreed. “But it was cheap, and it runs on fresh air.” He shifted back a little and the scruff on his chin rubbed across Nicky’s ear. “I’m sorry things happened the way they did earlier. We should have probably just… done this.”
