by Alexa Snow
Carter sighed and finished taping up the box with his silverware and napkins and dishtowels. If there was one thing he did tend to accumulate, it was kitchen stuff. He marked the box with a 'K' and sat back on his heels.
There was a knock at the door, just one, hard and decisive. Carter got slowly to his feet and went to answer it, wondering who the heck it could be, since no one ever showed up at his place unannounced.
He opened the door and Nate was standing there.
The temptation to shut it again, right in Nate's face, was strong. But Nate looked so amazingly good -- standing there with his weight planted firmly on both feet, his hair a little bit shorter than it had been the last time Carter saw him. He was clean-shaven and wearing a pale yellow shirt under his leather jacket -- Carter tried not to think about that part -- and the expression on his face was guarded.
"Sorry I didn't call," Nate said.
Carter looked at Nate stupidly. Emotions warred within him for their chance in the sun -- anger, astonishment, but mostly confusion. "Why didn't you?" he asked finally.
"Thought you'd tell me to go to hell." Nate blinked a couple of times, seeming to realize that this would have been a perfectly reasonable thing for Carter to have done.
"I might have."
"See, then? I made the right decision." Nate paused. "I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"
"Sure. Sorry, I was just -- well, surprised to see you would be an understatement." Carter stepped back to give Nate room to walk inside.
Nate didn't go far, though -- he stopped just inside the doorway and waited. "Nice place," he said, even though Carter could see him noting the boxes and empty bookcases.
"I'm moving out."
"I know," Nate said.
That made Carter stop, too. "How?"
"I talked to your editor."
"Edward?" Carter wanted to kill him. How could he have sent Nate here, when he knew pretty much everything that had happened? It had taken Carter a long time to convince Edward that, no, he really wasn't going to write the book, no matter what Edward thought or said.
"You have another editor?" Nate asked.
Carter went over and stood near the couch. "No, I just -- how did you talk to him?"
"Modern invention called the phone?" Nate raised his eyebrows. "Picked it up, dialed his number, waited for him to answer?"
"I meant why."
"Wanted to talk to him. I needed to... I wanted to hear what he had to say, I guess."
Carter had no idea why Nate was there. He wouldn't have come if he was still pissed off -- that seemed safe to assume. He wouldn't have bothered. And even if he had, he wouldn't be standing here making -- trying to make -- reasonably civil conversation. "What did he say?"
Nate came a couple of steps closer and then paused. "He told me about what you've been up to. Why you -- the reasons why you decided not to write the book."
"I thought you heard me tell him that, before."
"I did, but I didn't -- " Nate sighed heavily. "Can I sit down?"
"Yeah, of course. Sorry. I... I don't even know why you're here." Carter gestured at the couch.
"I needed to talk to you. Needed to see you. It was -- I wasn't happy with the way things went down between us," Nate said, sitting down. "I thought if I talked to someone who knew you, I could get some kind of idea what that whole thing was all about."
Frowning, Carter said, "I thought you'd already decided that."
"Well, I had. For about three days. Then I started to wonder -- that took another couple of days -- and then I figured I'd better talk to somebody."
Carter wondered how hard a decision that had been to come to for Nate. A little part of him (admittedly, a very little part of him) was still annoyed about Nate throwing him out, but now that Nate was actually here, it was much harder to keep up the grudge. "Why Edward?"
Nate shrugged. "He was the only person I really knew about. And I could figure out how to get ahold of him."
The idea of the two of them having a conversation -- about him -- was enough to make Carter's skin crawl. "Tell me what Edward said?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
"Lots of stuff. I didn't take notes." Nate was looking at him very intensely, and that made Carter's skin crawl, too, though in a less unpleasant way. "That he couldn't convince you to write the book, no matter how hard he tried. That you haven't worked since you left."
That was true enough. "That doesn't sound like a 'lot of stuff.'"
"Well, like I said, I didn't take notes." Nate's voice dropped so low that Carter had a hard time hearing the next thing he said. "He said you were in love with me."
"I thought you overheard me say that part, too."
Nate nodded. "I did. Didn't believe it. Or... maybe didn't want to hear it. Or something."
Carter closed his eyes and covered them with his hand. "Nate, why are you here?"
"Because I needed to talk to you."
Without moving or looking at Nate, Carter said, "If all you wanted to do was talk to me, you could have called me. I think it's safe to assume that Edward would have given you the number, since he obviously told you how to find me."
"He did. Give me your number. I needed to talk to you in person," Nate said.
"Well, just say what you've got to say, then. And make it quick, because you're killing me here." Carter's voice was tight and strained.
A moment later, Nate's hands were on his upper arms, strong and firm, holding onto him. One hand moved to Carter's wrist and pulled his own hand away from his face, and then the other moved to the back of his neck. "Can't have that," Nate said, and pulled him in and kissed him.
And, God, Nate's mouth was just as good as he remembered, if not better, and he could taste Nate, coffee, and an undertone of something sweet that wouldn't have been sugar in the coffee but might have been donuts. Nate's tongue edged into Carter's mouth with a tentativeness that was unfamiliar, and that was enough to jar Carter out of his reverie and into action.
He jerked back away from Nate, pulled himself out of Nate's arms. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, and his voice sounded like he was going to cry, which was in no way going to happen.
Nate's expression was concerned, and that made it even worse. "Kissing you?" Nate sounded about as confused as he looked.
"Don't."
"But I thought -- "
"What?" Carter hardened his voice and took another step backward, desperately needing to put some distance between himself and Nate. "What did you think? That you could just come here and fuck with me some more? Like nothing happened? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but it's not that easy."
"I don't need it to be easy," Nate said patiently. "I just need you."
"Sorry. You can't have me. I'm not going to let you do this to me again, Nate. I can't." Carter crossed his arms over his chest. "I -- you don't know what it was like."
Nate took a step closer, slowly. "You think I don't know?"
"How could you? When you told me to leave -- when you threw me out like that -- God." Carter closed his eyes again. He was right on the edge of trembling with frustration -- he wanted Nate to touch him even if Nate was going to leave, and he wanted Nate to get out now before it was all too much for him -- and he didn't know what to do.
Then there was noise and movement and Nate's arms were wrapping around him from behind, Nate pressing up against his back, warm and solid. "You think I don't know?" Nate repeated, in a low voice. "I know, Carter. Shit, when I heard you on the phone I was so pissed off I could have killed you. Throwing you out of there felt so damned good -- for about an hour. Then I started to feel like shit. And it's just gotten worse since then. Until I actually made the decision to come and see you."
Nate's breath pushed at Carter's hair as he talked, tickling him in a way that was just distracting enough. Carter tried not to moan. "So, what? You're saying you felt guilty?"
Nate lifted Carter's hair and put his lips very close to Carter's ear before speaking. "No. Th
at's not what I'm saying." Nate slid a hand down Carter's chest, pausing for a long moment at the waistband of his pants, and then slid lower to tease his cock with the lightest of touches.
Carter did moan this time. He hadn't even realized that he was hard until that very second, but the realization came slamming into him like a fist to his gut. "Then what?" he managed to gasp, his brain wanting him to move away from Nate but his body screaming at him to stay still.
"I'm saying," Nate breathed, and his voice was so low that it was like a growl or maybe a purr, "that I'm in love with you, too. Idiot."
"You really know how to sweet-talk a guy," Carter said, although it wasn't in any way a complaint, and his mind was flashing back to repeated discussions about a lack of flowers and candy. "Are you sure?"
"Sure as I've ever been about anything," said Nate, as he moved around to face Carter again and leaned in close.
And this time Carter was the one doing the kissing, and about a split second later Nate was kissing him back with both hands in Carter's hair, and he was thinking that if he could press his lips hard against Nate's teeth it might hurt enough to convince himself that this was real. It was hot and desperate and full of the loneliness and confusion that had driven him crazy since he'd left Oregon, and oh, God, Nate's body felt good against his.
"There's a bed," he said after a few minutes of frantic kissing.
Nate grabbed his face to hold him still. "An actual bed?"
"Well, yeah." More kissing, tongues darting into each other's mouths. "With, you know, sheets and everything."
"I'd settle for the floor at this point," Nate gasped. "But, yeah, that sounds good. Where?"
Walking backward, one hand fisted in Nate's shirt, Carter continued to kiss him while dragging him along toward the bedroom. The sheets were pulled down and they were both fully dressed, and Carter thanked any number of gods that there was only the one problem to solve and not both. He didn't think his brain could handle much more than just dealing with his nerve endings right then.
They made it into the bedroom somehow. The backs of Carter's legs hit the bed and Nate continued to move forward. The next thing Carter knew he was lying flat on his back on the mattress, with Nate's weight on top of him, pushing him down, shoving against him gloriously. He hadn't realized how heavy Nate was before this -- they'd never actually managed to lie down anywhere together -- but it was something he thought he might be able to get used to.
Nate thrust against him possessively, and Nate's mouth was hot against his throat, and it had been too long -- with a groan and his hands clutching at Nate's shoulders, Carter came, jerking his hips into Nate's.
"Sorry," he gasped when it was over, as Nate continued to move against him.
"Don't be sorry," Nate said, and then kissed him ferociously. "Be naked." Nate's hands began to strip Carter of his clothes, and Carter did his best to help despite the sudden lassitude that had taken over his muscles. The next thing he knew Nate was stripped to the skin as well and back on top of him, hard cock rubbing against his thigh. "Fuck," Nate muttered.
Carter almost laughed. "Exactly," he said. "I'm right here -- feel free."
Instead, Nate rolled them sideways and yanked Carter close, keeping one hand on his ass so that Nate could rub against him more firmly. Carter gasped as their cocks came into contact, and pushed himself into Nate, feeling his arousal returning.
"You sure about that?" Nate asked. "Wouldn't want to do anything," he nipped at Carter's throat, "unless you were sure."
Carter groaned as Nate's teeth sunk into his flesh, not breaking the skin but feeling like they might any second. "I'm naked underneath you," he said. "I think it's pretty safe to -- " he gasped " -- assume that I'm sure."
Nate shoved against him, the head of his cock pushing against Carter's thigh urgently. "Please tell me you've got some lube."
"You came all this way to seduce me and you didn't bring any lube?" Carter couldn't help but grin. "Seems to me like you could have thought this out a little bit better."
"Shut up, shut up, shut up," Nate muttered against his shoulder, pushing against him harder, leaving a slick trail of pre-come across his skin. "Please, Carter, don't fuck with me. It's been too long, I can't take it."
"Do you know if you're clean?"
"What?" This seemed to startle Nate out of his daze. "Of course I am. I don't take any chances."
"Would you trust me if I said that I was, too?"
The look in Nate's eyes was one of slight confusion, and then it cleared and the sheer desperation was back. "Want you."
"I'm right here," Carter said again. "Take me."
Nate reached down and stroked himself a couple of times, spreading slickness down the length of his erection, but Carter didn't think it would be enough. He shoved Nate back off him and sat up, taking Nate's cock into his mouth in one smooth movement.
"God, Carter, if you do that I'm going to..." Nate choked out, his hips moving nonetheless, pushing himself further into Carter's mouth like he couldn't control himself.
Satisfied that Nate was now appropriately lubed up, Carter threw himself backward onto the bed again and spread his legs. "Okay," he said. "Come on, now."
Nate groaned, and then leaned down over him, kissing him fiercely as Nate's cock slid along Carter's inner thigh and poked at his entrance. "Want you," Nate said again, thrusting his hips and pushing an inch or two inside.
"I'm right here," Carter repeated. "You've got me, Nate."
Carter thought he heard something snap at that, some inner control that had been holding Nate together like an elastic band that had finally wound too tight and couldn't take any more tension. The stretch and burn of Nate's entry into his body increased as Nate pressed forward unrelentingly, not stopping until Nate was buried deep. Once in, Nate didn't pause, but began to move immediately, setting a slow but steady rhythm of thrusts, his eyes closed.
For his part, Carter concentrated on relaxing. It was just this side of painful -- no one had been inside him since the last time he'd been with Nate, and he knew that if he could relax it would be good. Hopefully better than good.
And then Nate's eyes opened and he looked down at Carter.
"Fuck," Nate said. "Christ. God, Carter, you're so..." He groaned and his movements became jerky and uncoordinated, and then he stopped altogether, breathing heavily. Carter could feel the cock inside him twitching. "Hang on. Don't -- "
Carter stayed perfectly still and waited, and after a moment Nate sighed and started to move again.
"Okay," Nate said. "I just wasn't ready to... I didn't want it to be over so soon. This is just -- you feel so amazing, and I -- " Instead of continuing to talk, Nate leaned down and plundered Carter's mouth with a great deal of determination.
Unable to stand it any more, Carter reached down between them and took his own cock in hand, stroking in time with Nate's thrusts. God, that was so much better. He'd already come once and was desperate to do so again -- he couldn't imagine how Nate was keeping it together.
Then Nate started moving more quickly, and his breath was coming faster as he made a low-pitched sound in the back of his throat. Carter planted his feet on the mattress beneath him and steeled everything from the waist down, giving Nate all of the encouragement that he could. "Nate," he gasped, as he felt his own orgasm rising, and Nate's grunts increased in pitch and tempo. Carter felt the cock inside of him twitch and pulse, and then Nate was pouring out into him, groaning. Carter was pretty sure he could feel Nate's arms trembling with the effort of holding himself upright.
Nate gasped for breath and a hand joined Carter's, their fingers twining as they stroked him off together. Carter shuddered and came just as Nate's own cock softened, slid out of him. He could feel his own spunk shoot onto his belly as Nate's fingers brushed over the sensitive head of his cock, slippery with come, and he made a small sound of completion and relaxed, pulling Nate down to rest against him.
For a while they simply lay there as their breathing re
turned to normal.
"I bought a house," Nate said in the quiet, as if it was a confession.
Carter considered this for a minute. He wasn't sure what kind of response was required.
"Congratulations?"
"Thanks. Was kind of hoping you might like to come see it. Stay a while?"
Oh. "Are you sure? I mean... I'm all ready to move in with Alex, and..."
Nate growled softly and bit Carter's shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. "No," he said. "Move in with me. Because I've gotta go back."
Despite the tingle that went through him at Nate's possessiveness, Carter shoved him to one side and sat up. "I can't just leave everything here. My friends, my..." Okay, so whatever kind of writing job he was going to get wouldn't have to be done from here, probably, but still.