by Jane Davitt
Nick’s own breathing was none too steady as John’s fingertip circled and rubbed.
John wanted to do more. Wanted to know what Nick felt like inside, hot and tight. Still, it was hard to get himself to move enough to reach for the lube, although by the time he’d slicked his fingers he was already thinking it was worth it, just for the look on Nick’s face, impatient and turned on, as he wasted some of the lube pulling at Nick’s balls before sliding back.
One finger slipped inside and Nick cried out softly, imploring, his cock against John’s thigh twitching in response.
The intimacy of that first deep touch was intense enough to make meeting Nick’s gaze an effort because John felt exposed, shivering with it, sharing his emotions where before he’d never given more than his body. He managed it, and was rewarded by the expression on Nick’s face as John’s fingers teased him, fucked him, spread him, his mouth open as he panted hoarsely, his eyes wide.
“Going to give you more than that,” John promised him, flickering his tongue across Nick’s lower lip and biting down on it gently. He twisted his wrist until he coaxed another soft, desperate whimper from Nick, gasping against the mouth he was kissing as Nick clenched around his fingers. “Going to give you everything I have, Nick.”
Nick inhaled shakily. “Yeah,” he whispered, his breath warm against John’s lips, his hips moving restlessly as John fucked him slowly with two fingers. “Need it. Need you. God ...” Nick’s hand fumbled and found John’s cock again, squeezing and rubbing rather inexpertly as his state of arousal made coordination difficult. Strangely, that just made it hotter.
John had to close his eyes then, his free hand gripping Nick’s shoulder, clinging to it as he dealt with a surge of arousal that had his hips moving in short, involuntary jerks, pushing up into Nick’s fist.
“How do you want to do this?” The words were distant in his head because he was concentrating on the details; the soft fall of Nick’s hair against his cheek, the strong ripple of muscle squeezing his fingers, the way they were breathing in unison. “I don’t know what you like yet.” Having time and chance to find out would be another first for him. He eased his fingers out of Nick, kissing him as he did, and moved away, giving Nick room. “Show me.”
Nick flushed, and John suspected that it was more from embarrassment than arousal. “Let me do this part,” he mumbled, reaching past John’s arm for the box of condoms and opening it, taking out a small packet. He tore it open and propped himself up on his elbow, then frowned and sat up. “Sorry ‑‑ easier like this.” He bent and kissed the head of John’s cock, drawing a startled gasp from him, before using careful fingers to smooth the condom on. It unrolled slowly down the length of John’s shaft, tight and just a bit slick inside, and when it was on Nick fondled John’s balls.
Then Nick lay back again, pulling John on top of him and kissing him.
“Like this.”
John took a moment to smooth his clean hand over Nick’s hair and smile down at him. “Fine by me.”
Even as aroused as they both were, there was enough weight of expectation to make Nick tense up slightly as John began to push inside him and for John to be just not quite at the right angle anyway. They paused, meeting each other’s eyes, and then Nick smiled reassuringly and John relaxed. It really didn’t matter if this wasn’t perfect. They’d have plenty of time to reach the point where it was as close to that state as it got.
Bending over, he kissed Nick again, reaching between them to stroke Nick’s erection until he felt Nick’s hands run over his back to cup his arse, urging him on.
Easing into Nick in one smooth, short slide, repeating it until he was deep inside him, suddenly became the easiest thing in the world.
“God, you feel incredible.” John hooked his hand under Nick’s leg and started to fuck him slowly, unable to look away from him. “Nick ‑‑”
Nick’s breath caught in his throat, his body arching beneath John’s. He groaned with the next thrust, moving with John and pulling him deeper, legs spread wider as they found a rhythm together. “God. God, John.”
“Is it good?” John pushed in again. “Tell me.” He wanted to hear Nick say it.
“Fuck, yes,” Nick gasped.
John kissed him, his tongue demanding in Nick’s mouth, needing more. Nick was tight and hot inside, more perfect than anything John had ever felt before, and yet somehow that wasn’t enough; he needed to know that it was like that for Nick, too. He pulled back a bit farther and shoved forward, a sharp jab that made Nick whimper.
“John.” Nick was trembling, his cock leaking onto his stomach.
Sliding his hand free and continuing to fuck Nick with strong, deep strokes that drew groans from each of them, John curled his hand around Nick’s cock, gripping it tightly and then running his thumb over the glistening head, bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking it clean with a swipe of his tongue.
Nick shuddered and groaned, rocking his hips to meet the next thrust. “God ... John, touch me again, please.”
“Like this?” John asked, his voice unsteady. The backs of his fingers brushed against Nick’s cock, barely touching it, going from balls to wet tip and then moving away. John felt a shiver run through him just from the way Nick’s cock jerked in response, making his next thrust deeper, rougher. “Or do you want more than that?”
“More. God, I’m so close ...” Nick closed his eyes, but opened them again immediately, as if he couldn’t bear to not be looking at John. He was gasping, his body hot and smooth around John’s cock, and John could feel the tension in his thighs, in his hands still on John’s arse.
He would have liked to make Nick wait, draw out this moment of clarity before everything blurred together in a rush of sensation, tease him just a little, with himself as tormented by the delay as Nick. Some time he would. Make the next touch light, and the one after that. Feel Nick’s body taut and quivering beneath him, around him, watch his eyes fill with a wild, blind need that was a reflection of the look in his own.
Not now though. God, no, not now. His hand was on Nick before the man had finished speaking, his fingers wrapping around the hot, slick-tipped cock and working it with the same ruthless speed and strength he’d have used on himself at this point, his cock pushing into Nick with a matching force.
“Nick ... oh, fuck, yes.” He could feel his body draw in on itself, readying for that moment of utter stillness before it was wrenched apart and shattered, needing something more; one more slide into the tight, welcoming heat, one more repetition of his name from Nick’s lips, one more ‑‑
Nick came, silently and with a clench of his body so fierce that there was nothing John could do but follow him, crying out at the intensity of it. It lasted a lot longer than he was used to, each wave of pleasure forcing another cry from him until he collapsed on top of Nick, shuddering and gasping desperately for air.
Warm hands slid gently over John’s back and shoulders in long, soothing strokes. He felt Nick press an awkward kiss to his hair and the warm, moist air that he was exhaling wafting back over his own lips and chin as he struggled to gain enough control of his body again so that he could move.
“No, don’t,” Nick said, when John started to shift his weight. “Stay.”
“I wasn’t planning on going far.” John relaxed again, turning his head and finding Nick’s mouth with his own, kissing him and hoping some of what he was feeling was conveyed in the kisses because he didn’t think he could put it into words.
He propped himself up on one elbow and brought his hand to Nick’s face, cupping it and stroking along the line of his jaw in slow, gentle sweeps of his thumb, watching Nick’s eyes flicker in a regret he shared as John eased out of him in an inevitable separation.
The way that Nick relaxed and settled in beside him as he lay down, seemingly content and trusting, meant more than John could have put into words.
* * * * *
They’d been walking, Nick thought, practically forever.
/> He knew on a practical level that it had only been a few hours, and there had been times when it had most definitely been walking as opposed to climbing, although there’d been patches of that, too. The air was so fresh and sharp, with an edge of salt to it, that it made their surroundings seem even further removed from civilization than they were. Grass and gorse and hedges and all kinds of things that must have had real names, even if they escaped Nick and probably would have even if he’d cared what they were called, were all around them, and they’d seen more than their fair share of sheep and even a couple of animals that he’d thought were goats.
The sky was blue, surprisingly so ‑‑ it was the most perfect day he’d seen since he’d been on the island. Not that he’d been here all that long, but he’d been under the impression that good weather was few and far between in Scotland, or at least that the periods of blue sky were brief at best.
Nick realized that he was panting a bit more than was comfortable and glanced up at John’s back in front of him, trying not to watch the way John’s ass flexed and relaxed with each step. “Can we ... stop for a minute?”
John turned and glanced back at him, looking not at all out of breath although his face was slightly flushed. “Aye, of course we can. There’s no rush now, is there?” He scanned the mountainside and then nodded at a flat slab of stone jutting out with a patch of short, wiry grass behind it. “Think you can stagger that far?”
Since it was no more than thirty feet away, Nick felt he could spare the energy to glare at John as he walked over to it, getting a chuckle in response.
“You’re doing well,” John said kindly as they sat down, placing their backpacks beside them. “This isn’t something that you’re used to, then?” He opened his pack and dug out two bottles of water, passing one to Nick before unscrewing the cap on his and taking a long drink, the muscles of his throat working as he swallowed.
“The walk I took yesterday into town was the longest one in years,” Nick admitted, tipping his bottle up and swallowing a mouthful of water. “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just ... well, I never know what I’m going to come across, you know? And we always moved around so much, there weren’t all that many places that were familiar.”
John gestured at what, even halfway up the mountain, was a spectacular view across rolling moorland out to the sea, dotted with distant pale smudges Nick knew were islands but couldn’t name. “And I know every rock on the island. I know who lives in every house you can see down there, I know what’s growing in every field ... and there’s times when that’s comforting, and times when I feel so damn bored ‑‑”
“You should go somewhere.” Nick abandoned the discomfort of the rock and sat on the ground instead, lying down flat and looking up at the sky. “Somewhere different. You should see America, Canada, Italy. Whatever sounds good.” He didn’t look at John, unsure how the suggestion would be taken and wanting it to seem as casual as possible just in case.
His view of blue sky and a trail of white cloud was replaced by John’s face as he moved to lie next to Nick and leaned over to kiss him “Sorry.” John smiled down at him. “It’s becoming a habit.” He rolled to his back. “Travel. Well, I could go abroad tomorrow, if I wanted. There was a job offer that didn’t work out and I ended up with a passport, an Icelandic phrasebook, and a really warm parka. I just ‑‑ there was nowhere I really wanted to go, and no one to go with. Michael and I used to talk about seeing the world ‑‑ but after Sheila ‑‑ well.”
“Iceland? Really?” Nick found himself smiling at the thought of it. He turned his head and looked at John’s profile. “You could go somewhere now, if you wanted to.” John tucked his hands beneath his head, listening in silence. “We could. I’ve been all over America ‑‑ well, parts of it, at least ‑‑ but there are plenty of other places I’ve wondered about.” Not that the idea of travel appealed to Nick all that much right then, when he was looking forward to putting down roots for the first time since he’d been a kid, but in a few years he might feel differently.
John considered that for a moment without rushing to answer the way Nick was used to people doing, as if silence was a sin.
“I’d like that. And you’ll have to leave sometimes, won’t you? Or do you think folk won’t find you here and ask for help?” John glanced at Nick. “How did that work?” he asked, sounding mildly curious. “Them finding you, I mean. Did you ‑‑ did you advertise? Or are you registered with an organization?”
“Not really an official one.” Nick met John’s eyes briefly before they both turned their heads to look up at the sky again. “Sort of an underground. No one who didn’t know it was there would know. Does that make sense?” He looked at John again, and the other man nodded. “People who are having ... trouble, with that kind of thing ... eventually, they figure out who’ll believe them and who won’t, and they find someone who can help.” He grimaced; he’d always tried not to think about that too much. “Matthew handled most of it. I had enough trouble dealing with all the situations that we just kind of stumbled upon.”
“I remember you telling me that he was your business partner,” John said slowly. “You’ll be missing him in more ways than one, then; it must have felt as if there was nothing left of your life when he died. No one to ... shield you. No one who cared about you; just cared about what you could do.” John sat up and reached for his bottle of water, not looking at Nick, his voice just a little too even. “What now? You can’t stop doing what you do and you’ll need ‑‑ you’ll need another Matthew.” He looked at Nick then and there was a world of regret in his eyes. “I’d do anything to help you, but I can’t do that. Wouldn’t know where to start.”
“He shielded me because it was in his own interest.” Nick closed his own eyes because he didn’t want to see that look in John’s.
He’d only been here a few days; there were moments when he worried that he was bonding with John because he was trying to replace Matthew, because he didn’t want to be alone. Deep down, he didn’t think it was that simple. There was something about John that he was drawn to.
“I don’t want another Matthew.” Nick wanted to be honest with John. He breathed in slowly through his nose. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want a partner, but ... not like that. I don’t want to go back to that life.” He opened his eyes and rolled onto his side, looking at John. “I can’t run from what I am. I know that. But that doesn’t mean I have to live my life for everyone else but me.”
John moved over so that they were facing each other, looking less worried now for some reason. “Seems to me that we’ve both been doing a lot of that,” he murmured, propping his head on his hand. “Well, it’s in my interests to have you happy, that’s all. And I’d say you were old enough to know what’s best for you without anyone else’s help.” He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t have to be me, you know. I won’t ‑‑ I’d understand. You and me, we just, well, it happened, but it’s so soon after ‑‑ and it’s not like you’ve had time to find someone else, someone better.” John rolled his eyes in disgust at himself. “Christ, could I make a worse job of this?” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to feel obliged,” John said. “You stayed with Matthew for years because you didn’t want to hurt him. You don’t have to do that with me.”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” Nick agreed, reaching out his hand and tracing John’s nose with a fingertip. “But I do want to stay here, with you, and see where this goes. You might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m not stupid enough to let something like that go. To let someone like you go.” Nick knew that his emotion was plain on his face as he slipped his hand back behind John’s neck and pulled him closer until their lips met.
John kissed him back without hesitation, his lips warm and gentle and his hand coming to rest on Nick’s waist. “It doesn’t bother you that this is all so fast? Three days and we’re somewhere other people don’t get to in months? Years, even?”
“Did I
say it didn’t bother me?” Nick brushed his lips over John’s because it was so damned hard not to when the man was so close. “Well, no, actually, it doesn’t bother me. Worry me a little bit? Yeah. But I’ve spent my life learning to trust my instincts, or at least trying to, and I don’t want to go into this half-assed.” He hitched himself up a little higher and clarified. “If we’re going to try, I’m going to try all the way. I’m not going to hold back out of worry that it might not work out, because if I do, maybe it won’t work out. You know?”
“A self-fulfilling prophecy, aye,” John said unexpectedly. He lifted his shoulder in a small shrug. “I couldn’t walk away from you and live with myself afterwards, but it doesn’t mean I’m not scared. I’m not used to feeling like this. I’m not used to caring this much.” He pushed his hand through Nick’s hair, smoothing it back, and stared at him, his blue eyes serious. “And I do. When you fell on the beach, I was so fucking angry and hurt and I still couldn’t keep from going to you. I don’t think I ever could if I thought that you needed me.”
“I really am sorry about that.” Nick had apologized before, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do it again. “I just ... you know that thing I was saying about trusting my instincts? Well, it doesn’t always work out as well as I’d like to. I didn’t trust them when they said you wouldn’t freak out if I told you what I was.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” John looked a little surprised. “It wasn’t your fault I got the wrong idea entirely. And thinking I’d understand about the ghosts and such when we’d only just met, well, I can see why you’d doubt yourself there. And I suppose you have to be careful who you tell.” He grinned, looking suddenly mischievous. “Looking the way you do, I’m thinking you’d have had a fair few people getting starry-eyed over you, if they’d known you could speak to the dead.”