April 4, 2013
Nick was on the couch watching a baseball game, but by the fifth inning, he got stiff and sore and lost interest because the Sox were playing like shit and it was only the third game of the season. After using the head and then limping back to the sofa, he gave up on appearances, took a pain pill, slumped down on the sofa in a cocoon of blankets, and tossed his feet up on the coffee table, trying to ease the ache in his body.
It wasn’t helping. Nothing was helping. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to try to keep his mind from running in circles like it had been day in and day out since he’s gotten home from Miami.
He needed to do something with his hands. He needed to do something with his mind. Kelly had been adamant lately that he not overtax himself, and Nick had been following orders. He knew he wasn’t right yet, physically or mentally. He’d nearly died in the street in Miami, and that was going to take more than a month or two to get over.
He glanced around the Fiddler, mentally making a list of the things he needed to do. She still had holes in her. In the doors to the salon, in the door to the main cabin. The bunks belowdecks were still in shambles as well, and Nick was tired of fighting with his stupid insurance company about it. She deserved to be made whole again as soon as he was physically able.
Hell, maybe putting her right again would help put him right again too.
It would have to wait until he wasn’t hurting and drugged, though. He couldn’t even concentrate on baseball. He stared at another stupid fucking erectile dysfunction commercial, shaking his head and sneering at the screen. His attention wavered to the shelves hidden in the compartments beside the TV, and he scowled. He hadn’t looked in that compartment in a long time, not since the incident with the CIA when he’d been terrified that they’d shot up the box he kept hidden in there.
He pushed himself off the couch, the blanket still over his head and dragging behind him as he trudged over to the cabinet. He stared at the handle, preparing himself for what was inside, then he jerked it open and grabbed the beat-up old cardboard storage box on the top shelf.
He clutched it to his chest as he returned to his spot on the couch, wincing when he flopped too hard onto the cushions and jarred all his sore parts.
The box fell to the floor, settling between his bare feet. He hung his head as he stared at the lid, the blanket heavy over his head. What the hell was he thinking? He hadn’t opened this box since the day Elias Sanchez’s mother had handed it to him in the middle of Arlington Cemetery; why the hell did he think now was a good time to do this?
No. He knew why. Eli had been talking to him ever since the knife had slid into his side. His life had flashed before his eyes: a frenzied, terrified montage of all the time he’d wasted and the precious things he’d lost. And Eli had been there with him in the street, staying behind when he’d begged the others to go and save themselves.
Eli had stayed with him.
Nick took a deep, steadying breath, then gingerly pulled the lid off the box and set it on the couch beside him.
Nick O,
If you’re reading this letter right now, I guess that means I kicked it. I always kind of figured your crazy ass would go first, down in a blaze of glory or some bullshit. I finally beat you to something.
I’m writing this from a hospital bed. You probably remember the day, you were just here with me. Hell, I think you might still be here, hitting on that male nurse out there (you’re not as subtle as you used to be, bro). You spent hours here, cheering me up, telling me stories from the old days, sitting with me when I fell asleep and waiting until I woke up again.
I love you, brother. I realized today that I never tell you enough, but I love you. I keep thinking about how goddamned pure your friendship is, and I love you.
As I’m writing this, you and Grady aren’t speaking to each other and you haven’t for almost a year. Johns is off doing his thing in California, wearing fancy suits and too busy to return our calls. Doc is still in some sort of fugue state, building that damn cabin he won’t let any of us help him with. And I’m pretty sure I have enough evidence to convict Digger of three bank robberies in Louisiana.
It breaks my heart, papá. We were so fucking solid. Now, the team is all but dead.
All those people trying to kill Sidewinder over the years, and it was us that did it in the end. When I get out of this place, I’m going to fucking fix it. And you’re the linchpin, bro, you’re the one who holds us together. I got to fix you first.
But since I intend to write a new one of these every couple years, I guess I died pretty fucking young, huh? I’m hoping I just forgot to keep writing them and you’re like ninety years old right now and we escaped from our old folks’ home together and ran away on the Fiddler. Although, your poor fucking leg, bro. I don’t know if I should hope that you’re ninety or not.
Maybe I didn’t get a chance to fix it. Maybe I couldn’t.
I know what it’d do to me if I lost one of you this soon. We were supposed to grow old together. We were supposed to go off on the Fiddler and disappear into the sunset together. I’d be a fucking wreck if I lost that. But you and me, we got something the others don’t have. Losing you would hit me harder than any of them, and I’m not ashamed to tell you that. I don’t care if you tell them that. They know it. I’m fucking tearing up again just thinking about it, and I swear to God if you put me through that shit I’ll resurrect you just to beat your ass.
I don’t know how I died, but I’m betting odds are you went out with me. Back to back, brother to brother, just like we always talked about. Because that’s the kind of man you are.
But if you couldn’t be there with me, and you’re reading this, I’m sorry. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re hurting even more because the others are all scattered and there’s no one for you to lean on. So, in the words of my best friend Nick fucking O’Flaherty, “I’m going to do you a favor, son, and you’re going to love me for it.”
The game was approaching its end and Nick still had his blanket wrapped over his head like ET, staring sightlessly at the screen, still numb from the words he’d read, when he heard Kelly board the Fiddler. He muted the television and nudged the cardboard box under the coffee table with his foot, but he didn’t try moving otherwise as Kelly stepped into the salon with an armful of groceries.
“Need help?” Nick asked him.
“No, this is all there is,” Kelly said as he deftly closed the door behind him with his foot, balancing a canvas bag full of groceries in each hand. He gave Nick a snort as he walked by. He didn’t comment on Nick’s blanket. It was probably too common a sight lately to warrant it.
Nick worried at his lower lip with his teeth as he tracked Kelly through the salon and into the galley. He had to crane his neck to watch Kelly putting groceries up, and his blanket fell away from his head.
“How’s your game?” Kelly asked as he pulled things out of the bags and laid them out on the counters.
“Eh.” Nick clicked the TV off, still peering behind him.
Kelly glanced up, his brow deeply furrowed. “You okay?”
“I’m good. Think I sat here too long, but I’m fine.”
Kelly put away the last items that required refrigeration, and left the rest on the counter in favor of moving back in front of Nick with his hands on his hips. He was scowling now, and Nick shifted self-consciously.
“What’d I do?” Nick asked him.
“You tell me.”
“I’m being good. I haven’t moved. Much.”
Kelly’s expression turned skeptical, and he stepped around the coffee table and put a knee on the couch next to Nick, leaning over him. Nick watched him raptly, suddenly breathless as Kelly’s fingers slid against his cheek. But what he’d thought was going to be a gentle caress—something too few and far between since his injury—was simply Kelly’s fingers pressing against the pulse point at his neck.
Nick held his breath as he gazed up at Kelly, who had his head lowered, his eyes unfocused and a frown on his face. He was mentally calculating Nick’s pulse rate; that was the expression he’d always worn, from the very first day they’d met, when he was doctoring someone. That familiarity didn’t keep Nick from watching him longingly, though.
Kelly’s frown deepened, and he raised his head to meet Nick’s eyes. They stared at each other for long seconds, and Kelly’s shoulders relaxed, his thumb grazing the point of Nick’s chin and sliding gently toward his lips. The fingers he’d pressed against Nick’s pulse curled, and when his thumb brushed Nick’s lip, Nick’s eyes fluttered closed. He didn’t realize it, though, until Kelly pulled his hand away.
Nick grabbed for him, managing to snag his hand before he could stand. Kelly’s eyes widened, and they found themselves staring at each other again as Nick held Kelly’s hand and Kelly knelt awkwardly next to him.
Nick pressed Kelly’s hand to his heart. “Sit with me?”
“You okay?” Kelly asked as he eased down beside Nick. His hand was warm through Nick’s thin T-shirt.
“Yeah,” Nick whispered. He slid his hand up Kelly’s arm, staring into his storm-tossed eyes.
“You sure? Your heart’s racing.” Kelly moved his fingers up like he was going to check Nick’s pulse again.
Nick licked his lips, nodding jerkily. “That’s because I’m nervous,” he practically gasped.
Kelly stared, unblinking, unflinching. His thumb rested against Nick’s chin again, and his eyes followed its progress as he slid it up the line of Nick’s jaw to his cheekbone.
It seemed like forever to Nick, like it took Kelly hours to move. It seemed like he held his breath for so long that his lungs burned, that his body screamed for him to do something, anything, to relieve the pressure building.
It wasn’t until Kelly finally met his eyes again, when his fingers finally tightened against the back of Nick’s neck, when he finally leaned closer, that Nick sucked in a breath. A moment later Kelly’s lips were on his, warm and gentle and familiar.
Nick didn’t dare move, didn’t dare make a sound beyond the involuntary whimper that escaped his parted lips once Kelly pulled back. He was left with his eyes closed and his breath stolen, grasping Kelly harder so he wouldn’t move away.
Kelly brushed his nose against Nick’s, and then his lips met Nick’s again and he shifted like he might climb into Nick’s lap. Nick tightened his grip on Kelly’s forearm, and Kelly moaned quietly against his lips.
“I miss you,” Nick whispered between gentle kisses.
Kelly pressed his forehead to Nick’s, leaning his body against Nick’s shoulder. “Asshole,” he grunted.
Nick ducked his head, but Kelly put a hand on his shoulder and shoved off of him, raising up and slinging one leg over Nick’s lap. Nick gripped Kelly’s hips to remind him to be careful as Kelly straddled him, both hands resting on Nick’s shoulders, his head cocked. Nick swallowed hard, flushing with a heady mixture of nerves and adrenaline and desire as Kelly pushed his blanket off his shoulders with a smirk.
“How’s your heart rate?” Kelly asked wryly.
Nick was embarrassingly out of breath, but he managed a smile. “Racing.”
Kelly rewarded him with a crooked grin. “Mine too.”
Nick sat up straighter, wincing, still staring into Kelly’s shadowed eyes as his fingers wandered under Kelly’s shirt to graze over his ribs. Kelly leaned closer to brush his nose against Nick’s.
“What have you done?” Kelly asked, dropping his voice to a seductive whisper.
Nick sucked in a deep breath, holding it as he tried to find a good answer that wouldn’t get him yelled at. When he finally let it gust out, Kelly rolled his eyes and sat back, pursing his lips and nodding as if he’d known Nick had been up to no good.
“I told you to sit,” Kelly huffed. “I told you not to move. I told you to rest.”
“I know, but—”
“Nick!”
Nick practically growled as he rested his head on the back of the couch and flopped his hands to the cushions. It was like being in the Marines and having to report to his corpsman all over again. “It’s been over four weeks, Kels.”
“You know if you overwork yourself it’ll set back your recovery.”
“I was looking for Seymour,” Nick said, his voice a bit more caustic than he’d meant for it to be.
Kelly sat back, eyes gone wide. “You have him?”
Nick’s attention strayed to the coffee table, and Kelly glanced over his shoulder, where he could no doubt see Seymour on the table, along with the envelope full of letters Nick had found in the top of the cardboard box full of Eli’s things. The box itself was now sitting beneath the glass top.
Kelly leaned back, his lithe body twisting and straining against Nick as he plucked up the sock monkey. “I can’t believe you found him. Where was he?”
Nick found it hard to swallow, and he licked his lips to stall as his eyes strayed to the envelope again. “It’s the stuff Eli’s mom gave me,” he said, voice gone hoarse as he thought about the letter he’d read. “I . . . I just had this sudden need to go through it, I don’t know.”
Kelly sat back on Nick’s thighs, cocking his head and frowning at the ragged sock monkey in his hands. Seymour was about twenty inches tall, with a scraggly tail, gangly arms and legs, and big ears that had more often than not been used as handles. He had at one time sported white, green, and orange stripes, with a little blue-and-green beanie and blue puffs for buttons, but the colors were faded and dirty and the button puffs were long gone.
Kelly had always been vaguely disturbed by the look on Seymour’s face, especially after they’d had to sew up his left eye, but Eli had loved him and carried him with him wherever they went, including into battle. He’d stick him in his back pocket or his pack, depending on where they were. When the monkey had taken a piece of shrapnel to the eye—and saved Eli’s ass in the process—Eli had ordered a purple heart ribbon to sew onto his beanie so everyone would know Seymour was a combat veteran.
They’d taken pictures of him at landmarks around the world, sometimes risking life and limb and jail time to position him. It had always been their understanding that Seymour was to continue traveling even after Eli’s death, until he had seen the world.
“Seymour,” Nick grumbled affectionately.
“Huh?”
“EZ was always so proud of the pun. Seymour needs to see more.”
Kelly blinked at him, then looked back at the sock monkey. “Oh my God.”
Nick chuckled, then bit his lip when Kelly glared at him. “Did that just hit you?”
“Yes. Shut up.”
Nick was grinning when he took Seymour from Kelly, but his smile fell quickly as he brushed his fingers over Seymour’s face.
“Nick?”
“He wanted me to have that stuff, and I . . . I should have gone through it years ago.”
“Nick,” Kelly said on a sigh.
Nick shifted under him, sliding his hands to Kelly’s hips. “I don’t know how he was so ready. He knew exactly what needed to go where. Why was he ready? If I hadn’t woken up? The only thing I would have left behind for you is a boat with a bunch of holes in her that I was too stubborn to fix.”
Kelly’s hand came to rest on Nick’s cheek, and he leaned closer. “Nick.”
Nick just shook his head.
“How long have you been—”
“Why was he ready?” Nick asked again, and he realized his fingers were digging into Kelly’s skin.
Kelly brought his other hand up, cupping Nick’s face. He knew Nick was always grounded by touch, and two hands on his face was the best way to calm him. “Babe. Jesus, how long have you been lingering on this? Why haven’t you said anything?”
Nick shook his head, his eyes going unfocused.
“What brought this on? What am I missing?”
Nick cleared his throat once, then did it again. He nodded his head toward the big manila envelope on the table. “That.”
Kelly glanced over his shoulder again, the edges of confusion lining his face. He grabbed the envelope from the table. “What is this?”
“I found it in Eli’s stuff. Right on top, waiting for me.”
Kelly was scowling when he turned the envelope over, resting more weight on Nick’s thighs. Nick’s knee was killing him, but he wasn’t about to ask Kelly to move.
“What’s in it?” Kelly asked.
“Letters. A bunch of sealed letters, all numbered like we’re supposed to open them in order. Fucking Sanchez,” Nick gritted out, his voice wavering. He’d only made it through the first page of the letter he’d found in the outer envelope with his name on it. “The fucker knew she’d give me that shit. He left me a letter in there, taped to that package.”
Kelly’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he grabbed the package and turned it over to see the envelope taped to the front. He pulled the letter out of it and unfolded it. Nick watched him with extreme trepidation. He’d found himself tearing up as he’d read it, which was why he hadn’t finished it. He wasn’t typically a crier. He’d been stone-faced at Sanchez’s funeral, the shoulder the rest of them had broken down and cried on. But halfway into that handwritten letter he’d been using his blanket cocoon to wipe his face, so he’d stopped and put the letter back, waiting until he had a little more support to read it.
But even having Kelly here with him didn’t make it better. Kelly read the first page as Nick studiously stared at anything but him.
Sure enough, a few seconds in and Kelly’s eyes were glistening. When he lowered the page, he laughed shakily. “He was a piece of work,” he said, a hitch in his voice. He wiped at his eyes, like he was trying to make sure they were still dry. “That’s a dirty trick to play on his buddies. What’s the rest of it say?”
“I don’t know, I couldn’t get past the first page.” Nick gave a helpless shrug. “I could hear his voice in my head when I read it.”
Kelly stared at him long enough that Nick started to fight the urge to fidget.
“I miss him too,” Kelly finally said.
“I should have done it years ago. I should have patched the Fiddler years ago.”
“She still floats,” Kelly whispered.
Nick didn’t hear him, though. “I should have . . . there’s so much I should have done so much earlier.” Nick had to swallow as he gazed into Kelly’s eyes. “I should have told you I loved you so many more times than I have.”
They sat that way for what seemed like forever, with Kelly’s eyes reflecting as much turmoil as a New England squall, with Nick’s stomach tumbling and his breath getting harder and harder to catch. Nick finally had to lower his head, not wanting to meet Kelly’s piercing gaze any longer.
“Irish,” Kelly whispered. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to hurt. He had his mother give you these things because this was what he loved enough to drag around with him everywhere he went. And he wanted you to have the things he loved. These should be happy things, not . . . penance. Why are you even doing this right now?”
“I don’t know, I just . . . I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately.”
“You shouldn’t have to do this alone,” Kelly said as he folded the letter up. “I’ll help you. If you’ll let me. But not now.”
“Why not now?”
“You’re not recovered enough for Eli’s shenanigans. Doctor’s orders.”
“Right,” Nick said, turning his head to try to hide his bitterness. “Doctor’s orders.”
“Hey,” Kelly grunted, tapping Nick’s chest. “Once I’m convinced you’re able, we’ll pull them back out, okay?”
Nick nodded, forcing himself to meet Kelly’s eyes again. They stared at each other, the silence falling heavy between them.
“I’m sorry, Nicko,” Kelly set the package aside and took Nick’s face in both hands again, leaning closer.
Nick frowned. “For what?”
“I didn’t realize it, but the past couple weeks, I haven’t been treating you as . . .”
Nick licked his lips, unable to fight the nervous gesture and unable to avert his eyes since Kelly had his face trapped.
“As my boyfriend,” Kelly finished with a wince. He sat back, slumping in Nick’s lap and moving his hands down Nick’s chest and under his shirt. His fingers grazed though the fine hair on Nick’s chest. Nick shivered—from the touch and the sentiment.
He forced himself to ask the question he already knew the answer to. “What have you been seeing if not that?”
“My teammate. My friend.” Kelly winced. “My patient.”
Nick gave a curt nod and lowered his head, the wound in his side throbbing for some reason. He couldn’t help the blush that he felt creeping across his face, either. It burned hot as he thought of the past month of his recovery and how damn weak and helpless he’d been. Of course Kelly was seeing him as a patient and not his boyfriend; it wasn’t exactly easy to woo someone when they had to help you up and down the stairs to go to bed or take a shower or any number of other things that had just been too hard for Nick to accomplish on his own.
It was especially hard to woo someone when you hadn’t been capable of having sex in weeks. If it wasn’t Nick’s physical condition getting in the way, it was his mental condition, and if it wasn’t one or both of those, it was all the medication flowing through him that made him so fucking tired. Nick closed his eyes, fighting the embarrassment and pain when he thought of how Kelly must see him now.
Kelly placed the tip of his finger under Nick’s chin and forced Nick to look up again. “Don’t be ashamed, babe,” he said, his words just as warm as his touch. “Most men would have died after what happened to you. Wouldn’t have even held out long enough to get in an ambulance. But you didn’t give up. You kept fighting even when your body had nothing left to fight with. Don’t you ever be ashamed of still being alive. Or for needing help while you get better.”
Nick found it difficult to swallow past the lump forming in his throat. He managed it as Kelly held his gaze, smiling softly. Kelly took his face in both hands again, then curled to press his lips to Nick’s.
“This is the last time I’ll check your pulse without a compelling reason,” Kelly murmured against Nick’s lips. “Starting today, you’re not my patient anymore. No more doctor’s orders, I promise.”
He leaned back, resting more of his weight on Nick’s thighs. He licked his lips slowly, and a familiar light entered his eyes, as if he was plotting. Nick knew that look. He both loved and dreaded that look.
“What?” Nick asked.
“Nicholas,” Kelly said with a sigh. “Will you go to dinner with me?”
“What?”
“A date. We’ve never actually been on a real date. Will you go on a date with me?”
Nick blinked rapidly, his mouth falling open.
“We’ll get dressed up, go to a fancy restaurant. Your favorite restaurant. I’ll wine and dine you. And you can turn on that famous O’Flaherty charm to try to get me in bed.”
Nick’s fingers tightened on Kelly’s waist. “Try?”
Kelly shrugged, quirking an eyebrow in silent challenge.
“We could just . . . go to bed now.”
Kelly shook his head, pursing his lips disapprovingly. “Huh uh. I need some romance. You’re good at romance, and I want some.”
He trailed his fingers down Nick’s neck, tracing out along his collarbones. Kelly followed the progress of his fingers with his eyes, biting his lip when he got out to Nick’s shoulder and slid his hand over Nick’s biceps. He shook his head slightly, as if he might not be aware he was doing it, as he dug his fingers into Nick’s muscle. Nick may have been recovering, and he may have been miserable and weak and in pain, but his upper arms had been taking the brunt of the duty and they were in impressive shape.
“Kels?” Nick didn’t dare speak above a whisper and break whatever spell had been cast.
Kelly tore his attention away from where he was tracing Nick’s arm, and met Nick’s eyes. “I’d like to see you as my boyfriend again,” Kelly admitted, a rare hint of color rising to his cheeks. “Instead of a teammate or a patient.”
Nick fought for a shaky breath, only letting it out when Kelly leaned closer. He straightened and caught Kelly’s lips with his own, managing the briefest tease of a kiss before Kelly pulled away.
He put a finger on Nick’s lips and dismounted, looming over Nick with a smirk. “I never put out before the first date. Now, go get pretty for our dinner,” he said as he walked away. “And pack a bag!”
Kelly was fighting the urge to fiddle with his tie when he stepped into the restaurant. He’d left Nick on the Fiddler after gathering an overnight bag of clothing, including his best suit, and made his way to the Liberty, the only hotel in Boston he was familiar with. He’d chosen it because he knew Nick loved the place, though, and tonight was just as much about him seducing his boyfriend as it was about Nick seducing him.
The restaurant had been of Nick’s choosing, and looking around the place, Kelly was getting the impression that tonight was going to cost a pretty penny if they ordered more than tap water. When the hell did O’Flaherty get such fucking expensive tastes?
“Name, sir?” the hostess asked.
Kelly cleared his throat, fingers grazing his tie as he stepped forward. “Nick O’Flaherty,” he said, and he was shocked by the butterflies in his stomach. He might have been taking this date thing a little too seriously, but that was the whole point.
His heart had broken right in two when Nick had asked him to sit with him, when he’d admitted that he was nervous for Kelly to be touching him. When he’d said “Doctor’s orders” with the same distaste he said “New York Yankees.” How had Kelly let Nick’s recovery loom that large between them? It wasn’t worth analyzing now, and there were a dozen ways to go about course-correcting. But this one seemed like the most fun.
He’d never seen Nick’s full-court press. Nick hadn’t needed it to convince Kelly to sleep with him, or to commit to him. Kelly was looking forward to it.
The hostess led him through a maze of tiny, intimate tables toward the center of the main floor, where Nick was sitting straight and tall, watching him with a smile. Nick stood when they approached the table, buttoning his suit jacket. Kelly gave the hostess a nod, then stepped toward Nick with a grin.
“Wow,” he said, giving Nick a full-body once-over. Despite the weeks of recovery and issues, Nick had been rehabbing with the work ethic of a Marine, and it showed. He took Kelly’s elbow, holding on to him gently as he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Kelly’s cheek. Kelly’s eyes fluttered closed. Holy God, Nick smelled good tonight.
“You look great,” Nick told him, his lips tantalizingly close to the shell of Kelly’s ear. His fingers glided over the lapel of Kelly’s jacket, coming up to adjust the knot of Kelly’s tie. His eyes never left Kelly’s, and his lips quirked into a smirk. “Tie looks amazing with your eyes.”
“Thanks,” Kelly breathed, staring until Nick stepped back and gestured to the vacant seat.
As soon as they’d both settled in, a waiter approached the table, and their first official date was in full swing. Kelly managed to take it seriously right up until the dessert menu was laid at his elbow.
He shook his head and grunted. “Okay, seriously. Let’s get the check and head back to my room.”
Nick quirked an eyebrow and shifted his shoulders, laying one hand on the table. “And skip dessert?”
“Nicko,” Kelly grunted. “You earned me on my knees just with the cut of that suit, okay.”
A gentleman at the table beside them coughed loudly and gave Kelly a disapproving glance. Kelly eyed him briefly before returning his attention to his companion. Nick had covered his mouth with his palm, his elbow resting on the table.
“What?” Kelly asked him.
Nick shook his head. “If you want to go, we can. But the crème brûlée here is really good.”
Kelly narrowed his eyes. Nick snaked his hand across the tiny tabletop, and Kelly laid his in its path. Nick twined their fingers together, a serene smile gracing his handsome face.
Kelly realized he was shaking his head fondly. “And you accuse me of being able to get whatever I want with a smile.”
“You can,” Nick said softly. His thumb brushed over Kelly’s. “I’d give you anything you wanted. Smile or not.”
Kelly squeezed his hand hard. “Only thing I want is you, babe.”
Nick had been right. The crème brûlée was truly fantastic. And when the check came, they had the most realistic first-date moment of the night as they awkwardly tried to figure out who would pay. Nick finally won out and slid his credit card into the leather folder, then he took Kelly’s hand in his and leaned forward, kissing Kelly’s knuckles.
“I’m glad we did this,” he said, rubbing his lips over Kelly’s fingers again.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Kelly waited until Nick was looking into his eyes. “I was nervous. When I was getting ready, I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up. I couldn’t even get my tie tied right.”
Nick chuckled, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth. “I wasn’t.”
“No?”
Nick shook his head. “Tonight I know what I’m supposed to do. I know my place again.”
Kelly frowned hard. “Your place? The hell does that mean?”
“No, no, let me get through. Since waking up, all these weeks recovering, it was hard to know what I was to you.”
“Dude.”
“I don’t mean it bad, just let me explain,” Nick said, voice still calm and smooth. “You’ll always be the Doc first and foremost, and that’s what you fell back on when I woke up in the hospital. And you got me through this just like every time before. But we just . . . we don’t have a playbook for this. We were already kind of winging the boyfriend thing. And I know how you feel about lies and hiding things and . . . I know how much it hurt you, me lying. Keeping things from you. God! Pretending I didn’t remember asking you to marry me. I haven’t earned forgiveness for any of that.”
“You don’t have to earn it,” Kelly blurted. “I gave it freely. You know I don’t fucking hold grudges.”
“I know.”
Nick had obviously been fighting hard to maintain eye contact, and his fingers fidgeted with Kelly’s as he powered through his discomfort. He finally lowered his gaze, though, and Kelly could almost see him gearing up for something big.
“Nick?”
“It’s just . . . at what point do I recover enough for you to stop being the Doc and start . . .” Nick trailed off, taking an uneven breath as he looked back up at Kelly. “No one would blame you, Kels. If you slipped back into corpsman mode and just stayed there, after this. I have no right to call you mine. Not anymore.”
Kelly’s heart squeezed painfully as he realized what Nick was trying to do: to give Kelly an out. He clutched Nick’s hand harder, leaning closer with a sympathetic frown. “You’re probably right,” he said gently. “No one would blame me if I walked away now. Not even you.”
Nick hummed through a weak smile, the sound low and rumbling in the undercurrent of the restaurant.
Kelly kissed Nick’s fingers, shaking his head. “But I’m not going to do that, and we both know why. So how about you say that word again for me?”
Kelly could see the relief washing through Nick just as clearly as if it were an ocean wave. His grip on Kelly’s hand tightened and he closed his eyes, releasing a pent-up breath. “What word?” he asked, smiling tentatively when he opened his eyes again.
“You know which one,” Kelly said, dropping his voice to a growl.
Nick gazed at him for a few seconds, his entire demeanor relaxing when he offered a soft, “Mine.”
Kelly’s heart skipped a beat, and goose bumps rose on his arms, just like always. “I love the way you say that word.”
“Thank you for letting me keep saying it.”
The waiter placed their folder on the corner of the table and thanked them for dining with him tonight, but Kelly couldn’t pull his eyes from Nick’s to respond to the man.
Nick smiled slowly and threw Kelly a wink before releasing his hand and glancing at the waiter with a murmur of thanks. He retrieved his credit card and signed the receipt, then gave Kelly a nod and pushed back in his chair. Kelly moved quickly so he could help Nick if he needed it.
He’d recovered faster than most people would have, mostly because he’d been in peak condition before the incident in Miami and had made it into an ambulance in time.
Unfortunately, the stab wounds hadn’t been his only injury; he’d suffered a vicious kick to his knee as well, and was still awaiting surgery to address the damage. The only silver lining from that, according to Nick, was the handicapped parking permit and the cane he carried. He had several, but his favorite—and the one he was using tonight—was an antique, which may well have been the sole reason Nick favored it, and was made of ebony that shone after Nick oiled it down. The handle was engraved silver, so worn from use and age that it was impossible to tell what the engraving had been.
Nick plucked the cane from the back of his chair, nodding for Kelly to lead the way to the door. Kelly fought not to look over his shoulder to check Nick’s progress. Nick was a big boy who could traverse a restaurant unsupervised, he was closer to healthy than the hospital bed, and Kelly wasn’t the Doc tonight. When they got to the door, though, Kelly turned and held out his arm for Nick to take, and they stepped out into the warm evening together, arms entwined. Nick was relying heavily on the cane as they began to stroll.
“You didn’t take your pain pills today, did you?” Kelly asked.
Nick shook his head and jutted out his chin. “Not since this afternoon. I wanted to be clearheaded tonight. And avoid other side effects, too.”
Kelly snorted, warmth spreading through him. “In that case . . .” He halted and turning toward the street, raising his hand. “We’ll splurge on a cab.”
Nick hooked the handle of the cane around Kelly’s wrist and tugged, spinning Kelly back to face him. Kelly could only blink, wide-eyed, as Nick stepped into his space, using the cane to keep Kelly planted right where he was. Nick nudged his nose against Kelly’s, tilting his head to one side, then the other, like he was trying to determine the optimum angle of attack.
Kelly held his breath, his blood thrumming, his ears buzzing. He parted his mouth, dragging his lower lip over Nick’s, gasping quietly when Nick’s beard brushed the sensitive edge of his lip.
Nick kissed him. His hand splayed at the small of Kelly’s back. His breath caught on Kelly’s lips. Kelly moaned and grasped at Nick’s bulky shoulders, his fingers glancing over the soft, expensive material of Nick’s suit jacket as he tried to find purchase.
Nick kept the kiss safe for public consumption, his tongue and teeth merely offering a promise of what was to come. When they parted, Kelly wavered forward, seeking more. Nick chuckled, the sound traveling through Kelly to raise goose bumps all over his skin yet again.
“You smell good,” Kelly whispered. When the summer breeze had calmed and lost the faint hint of food and the sea, Kelly caught the unfamiliar scent of whatever was on Nick. “Is that new?”
Nick hummed an affirmative and kissed Kelly again.
“What is it?”
“Absinthe. Thought I’d try something new since I was charged with romancing you.”
“I like it.” Kelly nodded, meeting Nick’s shadowed eyes. Then he grinned slowly, and Nick mirrored the expression. “My place or yours?”
Nick took Kelly’s chin in his fingers. “I realize this isn’t really a first date kind of thing to say, but . . . I love you.”
“My place, then, it’s closer,” Kelly said in a rush, and then turned to hail a cab as Nick chuckled behind him.
Kelly’s body was buzzing with excitement and nerves by the time they made their way down the hall to their room in the Liberty. He was expelling the energy by bouncing up on his toes with every few steps because Nick seemed unhurried, leaning on his ebony cane and casting Kelly the occasional smirk.
“When you said you got a room I thought you were joking,” Nick said as Kelly fished his key out of his suit pocket.
Kelly merely shrugged, then shoved the door open and stepped aside, holding it for Nick to enter first. “I thought it would be neat,” he said, kicking his toe against the door and then dragging it across the carpet. “Romantic and . . . stuff.”
Nick patted his belly as he walked by. “The first time we were ever together was in a hotel.”
“Which first time?” Kelly asked wryly.
Nick turned to face him, head cocked, leaning his weight on the cane. Kelly’s smile fell as he stared into Nick’s eyes. Their first first time in a hotel room had been back in their Jacksonville days, accompanied by an adventurous young lady with a uniform kink. Their second first, though, that had been just them. Nick had come home for forty-eight-hours special liberty during his last deployment, and he and Kelly had spent most of those forty-eight hours together in a hotel room in Baltimore, learning every inch of each other’s bodies and talking about trying to do this for real when Nick came home.
What Kelly hadn’t realized at the time, and what he hadn’t really thought much about since learning it, was that the first time they’d had sex during those two days, Nick had just received orders that would turn their lives upside down: orders to kill a man his friends had trusted, even loved. He’d been struggling with that secret even then, and it had colored all his actions since. Almost their entire relationship had been built on the promises they’d made each other during a time when Nick had been keeping the biggest, most dangerous secret of his life.
And Nick had been paying for it ever since. So had Kelly, in a way.
Kelly cleared his throat, rubbing his palms along his thighs. Nick moved in his peripheral vision, and Kelly raised his head to see Nick carefully setting his cane aside and shrugging out of his suit coat.
“Come here, Kels,” Nick murmured as he removed his cuff links.
Kelly pushed away the unsavory memories, hopefully never to be thought of again. He tossed his suit jacket aside and started on the buttons of his shirt, approaching Nick with a lascivious lick of his lips.
Nick batted his hands away from the buttons and finished the task for him as they met each other’s eyes. Nick was grinning as he bunched Kelly’s shirt in both hands and pulled him closer, but there was something missing in his expression, replaced by pain he was trying to hide.
“Did you bring your pills?” Kelly asked quietly.
Nick nodded and pulled their bodies flush. “I’ll take them later. We both know the night’ll be over when I do.”
Kelly clucked his tongue, but Nick kissed him before he could argue. He pulled him closer, encircling him in strong arms, humming against Kelly’s lips and sliding his fingers under Kelly’s belt. Kelly melted into his embrace. His hands found their way into Nick’s hair, clutching at his short curls, and he knew as soon as Nick made the slightest of moves that he’d be on his back and begging.
It had been so long. Too long.
“Nick,” Kelly breathed, shocked by how eager and needy he sounded.
“I know,” Nick gasped. His cheeks were flushed and he was staring at Kelly like he could devour him. He nudged Kelly toward the bed, his voice choked. “Get out of those fucking clothes.”
Kelly fumbled with his belt as Nick carefully rid himself of his own suit. His hands slowed, though, as his eyes strayed to Nick’s movements, to the defined muscles and fresh scars revealed as Nick undressed. Kelly didn’t manage to do anything but watch him disrobe before Nick had him in his arms again, and Kelly didn’t care that he was still fully clothed. His fingers dug into Nick’s ribs, glancing over the ugly, raised scar on his torso as he pulled at him. He held Nick tightly, helping take a little weight off his knee as they stumbled the last few steps and fell into the bed together. Nick wound up on top, powerful muscles and the bulk of his weight working to restrain Kelly as he kissed him.
Kelly curled around him, pulling at his hair, relieved to have his legs wrapped around Nick after weeks—hell, months—of only being able to hold on to him at night as they slept. It wasn’t that Nick hadn’t wanted it since he’d begun to recover, it was that he’d deemed his own body’s reactions too unpredictable to make it fun, since the painkillers deadened all the senses, including the pleasurable ones.
Nick’s hand found its way into Kelly’s hair, grip tightening almost to the point of pain, and he delved his tongue into Kelly’s mouth, flicking the tip over Kelly’s, drawing moans from them both. Nick was hard against Kelly’s cock, and Kelly shimmied so Nick could feel it.
Nick broke the kiss with a gasp. He pushed up onto his elbow, and Kelly was dismayed to see him grimacing.
Kelly tried to reach for him, but Nick still had him pinned. “Your knee?” Kelly asked.
Nick nodded and pushed up, his weight on his hands and his one good leg. He glanced up at the headboard like he was gauging how far he’d need to crawl to get Kelly into the center of the bed. Kelly gazed up at him. At the hard line of his jaw hidden under his scruff that he refused to shave. At the scar along his collarbone where a bullet had grazed him in the line of duty years ago and he’d called Kelly from the hospital, drugged to his eyeballs, to tell him to take care of his Fiddler if he died. At the light reflecting off his beautiful green eyes and revealing depths to them, fathomless depths, that could only be seen by someone who’d witnessed the many ways in which Nicholas O’Flaherty could sacrifice himself for someone he loved.
“Nick,” Kelly found himself whispering. He didn’t even realize he’d spoken until Nick looked back down at him, eyes alight, sending a shiver through Kelly’s body. Kelly slid his free fingers down Nick’s cheekbone. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”
Nick smiled, the laugh lines around his eyes crinkling, the warmth turning his eyes a brand-new shade of green. He bent and kissed Kelly carefully.
Kelly arched his back, shoving his groin against Nick’s pointedly before wrapping his free arm around Nick’s neck. “Roll.”
Nick gathered him up in his arms and flipped them obediently, kissing Kelly long and hard as they readjusted their positions. Kelly rutted against him, wishing he’d managed to get his suit pants off before they started this.
Nick slung one foot over the backs of Kelly’s thighs. “I’m sorry. I thought I could deal with it long enough to make it,” he admitted.
Kelly kissed him so he wouldn’t have to try to keep explaining. Nick’s warm fingers spread over Kelly’s spine as their bodies pressed tight. Nick pulled his other leg up, squeezing his thighs against Kelly’s hips and then sliding his foot against Kelly’s calf, wrapping around him in a way he so rarely did even when his body was completely healthy. Kelly rolled his hips, settling between Nick’s legs as the kiss grew more heated.
“You feel good there,” Nick gasped against Kelly’s lips. Nick’s fingertips were at the small of Kelly’s back, fumbling at the thick leather of Kelly’s belt like he was trying to secure a handhold on a vertical climb.
“I’ve fucking missed this,” Kelly growled, kissing at Nick’s neck and chest.
Nick let his good knee fall to the side, giving Kelly room to get closer.
Kelly pushed from his knee, aiming closer for a kiss, but he wound up driving his hips against Nick harder than he’d intended, dragging the shaft of his hard cock against Nick’s groin. Kelly gasped as a jolt of pleasure blazed through him. Nick’s mouth fell open and he squeezed his eyes shut, back arching. He hadn’t made a sound, and Kelly couldn’t tell if the wince was because it had felt good or if he’d hurt him.
“Sorry.” Kelly slid his fingers into Nick’s hair.
When Nick opened his eyes to meet Kelly’s, the dim lights caught the spark in them. Kelly realized he was gaping as they stared at each other, their breaths coming in staccato bursts, their heartbeats pounding in time with each other’s.
“Felt good,” Nick huffed. The answer had been almost immediate, but to Kelly it felt that time was slowing. Maybe even reversing.
He continued to stare, continued to pet Nick’s hair, continued the rhythmic rocking of his hips that felt so damn good.
“Kels,” Nick grunted, and he pushed his legs together hard, squeezing Kelly’s hips between his thighs.
Kelly shook himself from the spell and looked down to where their chests were pressed together, where Kelly’s unbuttoned shirt was caught between them and the buttons were digging in. “Sorry. God, I’m a little nervous, babe. Like this is our first time or some shit.”
Nick worked his fingers loose from Kelly’s belt and reached for Kelly’s face with both hands. “Me too,” he confessed. He smiled gently, and something about it eased the butterflies in Kelly’s belly. Then Nick licked his lips, and the infamously nervous gesture from his boyfriend immediately ratcheted up and amplified the tumbling again. “Kels,” Nick started, but he hesitated long enough for Kelly to find a whole new level of anxiety.
“We should have just fucked on the Fiddler like you wanted to,” Kelly said in a rush. “This is way too much pressure to put on both of us, what the hell was I thinking? Thinking this would be a good idea?” He pushed away from Nick, breaking Nick’s hold, sat back on his haunches and shook his head as he stared at the fancy fucking headboard of their fancy fucking hotel room. “Haven’t had sex since before you almost died, it’s obviously stressful for both of us, why the fuck did I think, ‘Hey, let’s pretend we’re on a date’ would take the pressure off? Why do you let me plan shit?”
Nick snorted. When Kelly returned his attention to Nick’s face, Nick was watching him fondly, a crooked smile on his lips, his body relaxed. He slowly straightened out his bad leg, pushing his knee in so that it grazed Kelly’s hip on its way past him. Kelly realized he was kneeling between Nick’s splayed legs, and his cock jumped as he let his eyes stray down Nick’s naked body.
“It was a good idea, babe,” Nick said.
“But you’re nervous. And I’m nervous.”
“I know. But I’m not nervous because of performance pressure or whatever the fuck you’re freaking out about. Come back here.” He reached for Kelly, barely able to touch the tips of his fingers to Kelly’s exposed chest.
Kelly huffed as he struggled out of his shirt and tossed it over the end of the bed. He leaned over again, both hands propped on either side of Nick, and he was peripherally aware of Nick’s bent knee pushing out to the side again. Nick slid his hands up Kelly’s arms and onto his chest, then trailed his fingers down and around until he’d encircled Kelly in a hug as Kelly carefully rested his weight on him.
“I was nervous because . . .” Nick’s eyes darted back and forth as he looked into Kelly’s. “I want to ask you to do something for me, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to if you don’t want it.”
“You know I’d do anything for you.” Kelly kissed Nick to emphasize his sincerity.
“I know, babe,” Nick forced his eyes open after the kiss. “But this is for you.”
Kelly straightened up. He realized he was frowning, and he tried to school his expression a little better. “Okay.”
Nick’s hands turned gentle on Kelly’s back, barely a caress as he stuck his fingers back under Kelly’s belt. “Will you top me?” Nick asked, unblinking as he gazed at Kelly.
Kelly’s mouth fell open, and he would have sworn that his heart skipped a beat or five. “Top you?”
Nick nodded. “Means you’d do the fucking.”
“Yeah, I know what it means.”
“See, it didn’t look like you knew—”
“Nick!” Kelly pushed up again, but this time Nick didn’t let him get away. He locked his fingers at Kelly’s spine, and Kelly was forced to lie back over him, their bodies rubbing, Kelly’s cock enjoying every second of it.
“If you don’t want to it’s okay,” Nick continued. “I just . . . thought . . .” He cleared his throat and pressed his lips together as he held Kelly’s gaze, obviously trying not to display how nervous he still was. “Thought it would be easier.”
Kelly was torn between wanting to allay his nerves, and enjoying the rare show of insecurity. Even during his recovery, when Nick had been so vulnerable, he’d rarely been unsure like this. It was charming. Every fiber of Kelly’s being wanted to wrap him up and cuddle him.
Kelly traced the tip of his forefinger along Nick’s forehead, then down his temple and jawline.
“I’d be inside you?” he asked softly.
When Nick’s lips parted on a gasp, Kelly slid his thumb over Nick’s bottom lip.
Nick’s eyes fluttered shut. “Yeah,” he breathed.
Kelly couldn’t resist the opportunity to take Nick’s bottom lip between his, using the tip of his tongue to taste, taking his sweet time. Nick’s knee came to rest against Kelly’s hip, and Kelly automatically reached back to squeeze behind Nick’s thigh.
Nick was breathing hard beneath him, and Kelly realized his own breath was hard to come by.
“Do you want to?” Nick whispered, and though he was trying desperately to keep his tone neutral, Kelly knew him too well to miss the hope and desire behind the tremor in his words.
“God, yes.”
Nick nodded, probably searching for words but unable to find any. He pulled his other knee back up, squeezed Kelly between his thighs.
Kelly hummed and dove into another kiss. Adrenaline raced through him at the thought that he could slide into Nick, feel Nick’s body wrapping around his in every possible way, look into those phenomenal green eyes of his as they made love.
Kelly wasn’t about to make him ask again. He took Nick’s hand in his own and pressed it hard into the mattress, then kissed him hungrily, sucking on his tongue, biting at it, scraping his teeth over Nick’s lip. He moved them both until he had Nick in the center of the bed, and he took one last lascivious kiss before pushing away from him.
“One second,” he grunted, and then scooted off the end of the bed to ditch the rest of his suit.
Nick watched him, propped on his elbows, smiling fondly.
“How long have you been thinking about this?” Kelly asked as he struggled with his shoes.
Nick hummed, the sound coming from deep in his chest. “I’m not sure. I should have brought it up earlier, but I was . . .”
Kelly tossed his shoes aside. He shoved his pants down, then kicked out of them. “Nervous?”
Nick winced, rocking his knee back and forth.
Kelly watched him for a few seconds, his stomach tumbling. He was more nervous now than he had been the first time Nick had fucked him. He felt like a teenager on prom night.
“But fuck, it’s not like we haven’t spent the last year playing with a drawer full of dildos, Kels,” Nick said wryly.
“Dude.”
Nick clucked his tongue and stretched out, raising one knee in invitation. “Where’d you hide the lube in this place?”
Kelly narrowed his eyes and bent over the bed. He dragged his hand up Nick’s leg, then bent to kiss the inside of Nick’s thigh before crawling toward him and resting one knee between his legs, testing the position. Nick splayed his leg, giving Kelly room.
Kelly met his eyes, and when he moved to touch him, his fingers trembled. He took a deep breath, then grabbed the back of Nick’s thigh and pulled to seat it against his hip, right against the six-shooter tattoo that Nick loved so much.
Kelly stretched out, coming to within a breath of Nick’s face as he reached toward the pillows. Nick’s entire body was taut beneath him, his hands trailing over Kelly’s skin. He was watching Kelly raptly, not seeming to realize he was tracing the dream catcher inked into Kelly’s rib cage.
Kelly kissed him as he got his fingers on the lube he’d stashed at the head of the bed.
“Always prepared,” Nick said, smirking even as Kelly stole another kiss.
“I wasn’t sure how tonight was going to play out,” Kelly admitted. “There’s some in the bathroom, too. And between the cushions of the couch.”
Nick chuckled, his smile bringing out the hint of dimples hidden beneath his beard and lighting his eyes. His fingers were gentle on Kelly’s ribs.
“There’s even some in the Rover,” Kelly continued. “All over the Fiddler. I basically stashed lube all over Boston in the hopes of getting laid tonight.”
Nick was still laughing, but it faded into a more somber smile. “I’m sorry it’s been so long,” he whispered, and his eyes fluttered closed as Kelly drew closer for another kiss.
“Sex isn’t the reason I’m here, Nicko.” Kelly kissed him over and over as he let more of his weight rest on Nick. “You don’t have to apologize for needing time.”
Nick licked his lips, shifting under him. They kissed one last time before Kelly began making his way down Nick’s body. His chin, his neck, nipping at his collarbone and the smooth skin that contrasted with the scruff of his beard. Kelly scraped his teeth over Nick’s chest and licked at a nipple, then sucked on it because he knew it’d make Nick writhe. Nick dug his fingers into Kelly’s hair, his body contorting. His heart was racing under Kelly’s lips when Kelly kissed his chest. Kelly wasn’t sure entirely why, but Nick’s nerves were beginning to turn him on even more. It felt like Nick was handing something over to him. Not just his body. His trust. Control. Wading into waters they’d never ventured into, and he wanted to go there with Kelly.
Kelly pushed to all fours, his cock jumping when his hips dragged against the insides of Nick’s thighs. Nick held out his hand, and Kelly squeezed lube into his palm, then put some into his own and tossed the bottle toward the pillows. Despite the actions being familiar, the nerves still tumbled through him.
“Come here and kiss me before we both punk out of this,” Nick said in exasperation.
Kelly smirked because that was exactly what he’d been about to do. When he bent over Nick, Nick hooked one leg over Kelly’s hip. Kelly moaned into the kiss when Nick’s lubed palm wrapped around his cock.
Nick coated him liberally, obviously taking pleasure in the slide of his palm over Kelly’s cock. Kelly panted into the kiss as Nick jacked him slowly. If it felt this good with Nick’s fingers around him and that leg draped over him, how amazing would it be to slide inside him and have him wrap around Kelly as they fucked?
“Yeah, Nick,” Kelly grunted, biting at Nick’s lip and thrusting into his hand. Nick responded with a muffled hum.
Kelly reached between them, fumbling a little before Nick’s fingers found his and guided him between his legs. Nick hitched his foot higher onto Kelly’s back, squeezing Kelly and sliding their cocks together as Kelly carefully pushed one finger inside him, then another.
This wasn’t entirely new for either of them. Nick enjoyed having something inside him almost as much as Kelly did; from rimming to dildos to having two of Kelly’s fingers inside him while they fucked, Nick could take whatever Kelly dished out. Nick’s slick hand cupped Kelly’s balls as Kelly slid a third finger into him.
They kissed a little more desperately as Nick’s noises grew more obscene. They pushed closer until their noses were in the way, using more tongue and more teeth, moaning with every exhalation and breathing harshly through their noses because they both refused to part for air.
“Babe,” Kelly finally croaked, twisting his fingers inside Nick and reveling in the way Nick’s breath caught.
Nick could only whisper his name.
Kelly withdrew slowly, wrenching a groan and a gasp from Nick. Kelly’s cock was absolutely pulsing with need, and he was getting light-headed with the desire to shove into Nick’s body and just take him.
He was so nervous he could barely think. It wasn’t just that it was his first time, it was his first time with Nick. And what if it was Nick’s first time too? What if it went badly? Oh God . . .
Nick huffed a breath against his lips, and suddenly Kelly’s nerves settled. Their noses and foreheads were pressed together, their eyes closed. Every breath was shared, every groan close enough to vibrate their lips.
“You sure?” Kelly hissed.
Nick nodded. “Go slow, okay? At first.”
“Promise,” Kelly managed.
Nick pulled both knees up, squeezing at Kelly’s ribs before placing the heel of one foot on the small of Kelly’s back. Kelly pushed onto his elbows. Nick couldn’t seem to catch his breath as they locked eyes. Hell, neither could Kelly. Kelly wondered if Nick’s knee was up to this, but then he shook it off. Nick would tell him if he was hurting, and Kelly wasn’t the Doc tonight. Nick grinned slowly, and Kelly kissed him hard. The head of his cock pressed at Nick’s ass.
Kelly took Nick’s hand in his and held it to the mattress above their heads. Nick’s fingers gripped him tight, his knuckles turning white. Kelly bowed his back, nuzzling against Nick’s neck, forcing his face up under his chin to place his lips against Nick’s pulse point. He rotated his hips, loving the way Nick’s thighs felt against him, then pushed forward to work the head of his cock into Nick.
It was agonizingly slow.
The desperate, wanton moan that escaped Nick’s lips made Kelly’s blood run hot. The way Nick’s body moved beneath his was intoxicating. Everything tightened, from the fingers grasping at Kelly’s to the muscles that fought Kelly’s entry. Kelly waited for his next breath, fighting the dizzying rush of lust and adrenaline, but when he realized that he simply wouldn’t be able to catch his breath at all, he stole a hungry kiss.
Nick rolled his hips, helping Kelly sink deeper. Kelly pressed his face to Nick’s cheek and groped for his other hand as he rocked into him.
“Fuck!” Nick finally managed to get out. His head was tilted back, his lips parted and his eyes squeezed shut.
Kelly nuzzled his forehead against Nick’s temple. “Okay?”
It took Nick a few attempts to answer. He couldn’t catch his breath, and he couldn’t seem to stop writhing as Kelly moved inside him. But he finally gritted out, “Feels good. You feel good.”
Kelly let Nick’s hands go so he wouldn’t feel trapped, and slid both arms under Nick’s shoulders, holding him tight and kissing him languorously. He sank deep, as deep as he could get, searching for the right angle to hit Nick’s prostate. He’d learned a lot of tricks with Nick O’Flaherty as his teacher.
“Oh God, Nick.” Kelly’s words were nearly lost in Nick’s mouth as they kissed. Nick’s only response was to gasp his name.
Kelly’s fingers dug into Kelly’s shoulder blades, and Nick’s hand found its way up into Kelly’s hair again. Kelly finally propped himself on his elbows, his hips still rolling, his muscles straining as he got a chance to look down into Nick’s eyes. He didn’t take his eyes off Nick’s, and Nick didn’t blink.
Nick bit his lip, then grinned. “Harder, Kels.”
Kelly picked up the pace, driving deeper with each thrust, fucking Nick until the headboard banged against the wall. Nick stretched to brace one hand against the wall, locking his elbow to stop the noise. Kelly kissed his chin.
“You’re so fucking tight, babe. Jesus Christ.”
“Don’t stop,” Nick gritted out. Kelly tried to reach between them so he could jack Nick off as they fucked, but Nick hooked his ankles together at the small of Kelly’s back and squeezed, making it impossible.
“I’m going to come,” Kelly warned. “I want to feel you first. Feel you come.”
Nick groaned in response, his eyes falling shut as he bucked his hips to meet Kelly’s thrusts. “Come inside me, babe. Come on.”
Nick sure as fuck didn’t have to ask twice. Kelly redoubled his efforts, thrusts deliberate so he’d be sure to feel every tantalizing slide of his cock into Nick’s body, dragging his belly against Nick’s cock with every slow thrust into him. Nick cried out his name, grinding his hips up, moving with Kelly’s rhythm. He was using the friction from Kelly’s belly to get himself off, and Kelly could feel his muscles tensing, feel him getting closer and closer to release.
God, he wanted to know what it felt like being inside him when Nick came.
He held off as long as he could, but he couldn’t think of anything except Nick’s tight, warm body wrapped around him, about the trust it took to ask for this, about the devotion in Nick’s eyes when he begged Kelly . . . begged him to fill him full of cum, begged him for harder, begged him for more.
“A little more,” Nick told him, his voice gone rough. “God, just wreck me, Kels!”
“Fuck!” Kelly gasped the word over and over until he had no more breath to speak. He was working them both into a sweat, their bodies entwining with practiced eased; even with their roles switched they knew how to move against each other.
Nick arched his back, bucking his hips like he was trying to throw Kelly off. He laid his hands above his head, and Kelly immediately reached for them, twining their fingers together, pressing him down. Nick’s entire body was trembling, taut and racked with pleasure. He moaned long and loud, the sound desperate and heated and almost resembling Kelly’s name.
“Oh fuck, babe,” Kelly hissed, and he gave up on trying to stave off his orgasm. “Fuck yes!”
Nick tried pushing back at Kelly’s hands, but Kelly was coming inside him and every muscle in his body fought to maintain the ground he’d won. He fucked him through the climax, fucked him until Nick could do nothing but squeeze his fingers and moan his name and wrap his legs tighter around him, fucked him until both their bodies were trembling and the headboard was banging along with the increasingly ruthless rhythm, fucked him until the entire room was filled with the scents of sweat and sex and that intoxicating absinthe cologne.
Kelly buried his face in Nick’s neck and cried out for him—for mercy—but he kept moving, kept shooting off inside him, kept holding him down and grinding his body against Nick’s cock until the friction was too much for Nick. His muscles spasmed, his cum spurting between them as he struggled against Kelly’s hold and graced Kelly’s ears with the most sinful moans Kelly had ever heard. Kelly moved one hand to grip Nick’s hair, and Nick took advantage of his newfound freedom by dragging his fingernails down Kelly’s back. Kelly gritted his teeth, but all he could think of was filling Nick full of cum so he could watch it run out of him.
He was still grasping at Nick long seconds later. He was still stretched out on top of him, too, with Nick’s legs wound around him and his one free hand still clutching at Kelly’s shoulder. They were both still breathing hard, and Nick’s eyes were closed. Kelly released his hand slowly, not surprised when his fingers ached as he flexed them.
Nick opened one eye to peer up at him.
“Okay?” Kelly asked, his voice ragged.
Nick huffed and closed his eye again. He nodded, and Kelly lowered himself just enough to kiss him. Nick shifted his hips, and they both gasped into the kiss.
“Oh God,” Nick whimpered. He grasped at Kelly’s hip, digging his fingers into Kelly’s ass to keep him from moving again. “No, no, no.”
“Relax. Kiss me,” Kelly murmured, echoing the words Nick had used their first time together. He kissed Nick again, keeping it gentle and soothing to distract him. Nick still groaned against his lips, his body tense as Kelly carefully pulled out of him. Kelly wound up on his hands and knees, forehead pressed to Nick’s, breaths at a premium as he tried to slow his heart. “Okay?”
Nick nodded, eyes still closed. “Yeah.”
“Did you come?” Kelly asked, even though he knew the answer. Nick nodded again, trying to catch his breath. “If you hadn’t I was going to make sure my tongue was in your ass when you did.”
Nick groaned and knocked his good knee against Kelly’s hip. “Jesus, you get dirtier every time we fuck.”
Kelly chuckled at that, but he soon realized that he had no idea what to say now. He knelt there in awkward silence for a few more seconds, then stole one more kiss and rolled off Nick, splaying beside him in the king-size bed.
After a full minute had passed, both of them still breathing hard, the silence stretching into unusual territory, Nick’s fingers found Kelly’s between their bodies and grasped them.
Kelly glanced at him. Nick still had his eyes closed, his tongue touched to his upper teeth.
“Nicko?” Kelly rolled onto his side, placing a hand on Nick’s chest and kissing his shoulder.
“That was good, Doc,” Nick rumbled, and the pitch of his voice sent a thrill up Kelly’s spine.
He turned his head, and Kelly stretched to kiss him. Nick cradled the back of Kelly’s head, and even through the distraction of the kiss and the afterglow of a pretty amazing orgasm, Kelly could feel the tremor in Nick’s hand. Whether it was from pain or not didn’t really matter. Kelly knew how to fix it.
“I’ll get your pills.” He sat up, patting Nick’s belly, then trudged toward the door for the overnight bag he’d packed for them both because he knew Nick wouldn’t take him seriously and pack his own. He realized he was frowning as he rummaged through it. When his hand landed on Nick’s travel pill container, he was still frowning. After what they’d just done, he really shouldn’t be frowning.
Nick was now stretched out across the bed like a cat on a warm rug, and when Kelly glanced at him, at powerful muscles, at skin covered in scars and ink, at auburn waves and the beard Nick was still afraid to shave because his hands were unsteady, and those incredible green eyes that could bore their way into Kelly’s soul, every part of Kelly’s body screamed for him to pounce Nick’s ass and do that again.
“You okay?” Nick asked when he found Kelly staring.
Kelly bit his lip. “You want some water?”
Nick nodded, and Kelly turned to the bathroom to get a glass of water and a damp rag to clean off with. He made quick work of the mess on his belly, and even managed to get most of the lube off without resorting to getting in the shower like he usually had to. Then he grabbed a fresh hand towel, wet it, and brought it out to Nick, who was watching him like a hawk, a frown flirting over his expression.
“What’s up with this?” Nick asked, and he waved a hand over Kelly’s face when Kelly handed him the glass of water and his pills.
Kelly couldn’t help but smile. Nick always knew when something was off with him, and he usually knew when to push and when to let Kelly work through his moods himself.
He climbed into the bed and stretched out sideways next to Nick, propping himself on his elbow, waiting until Nick downed his pills.
“Was that the first time you’d ever done that?” Kelly asked.
Nick’s lips twitched. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it wasn’t really a frown either. He took another sip of water, swallowing hard. “No.”
Kelly nodded. He didn’t want to examine why he was relieved by that, but he kind of wished he’d asked earlier so he wouldn’t have been so fucking nervous.
“It was the second time,” Nick added, taking another drink to cover his smirk.
Kelly’s eyes widened and sought out Nick’s, and Nick swallowed his water and laughed at him.
“Why is that funny?” Kelly asked.
“You look kind of terrified right now.”
“I do not.”
“Do too.” Nick downed the rest of his water and tossed the empty glass toward the sofa, then rolled so he was facing Kelly. He placed a hand on Kelly’s hip, his fingers gentle as he stroked along the dream catcher tattoo. “What’s on your mind?”
“The first time,” Kelly said hesitantly. “Was it . . . not . . .”
“It was fine,” Nick answered quickly, meeting Kelly’s eyes. He smiled again, which went a long way toward making Kelly believe him. “It wasn’t fun, though. It got less fun as it happened, which is why I was so fucking nervous, I guess. When I said slow down, he didn’t, and I never trusted him after that. It was . . . pretty much the end of him and me. But I’m sorry, I should have been able to separate that from you. I know you.”
“Don’t apologize, babe.”
Nick shrugged, sighing heavily. “I know you.”
“Don’t.” Kelly petted Nick’s cheek. “It’s okay.”
“It just . . . it wasn’t something I’d ever wanted to do again.”
Kelly pursed his lips, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“Not until you.”
Kelly stared into his eyes, not trying to think of anything to say. There was nothing he could say that would be more effective than listening. He edged closer, letting Nick wrap his arms around him, sliding his leg between Nick’s knees, and resting his head against Nick’s chest.
“I love you, Kelly.”
Kelly took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly, kissing Nick’s chest, eyes drifting shut as Nick held him close. After a few seconds he realized that Nick was holding his breath and his heart was racing. He raised his head to meet Nick’s eyes, searching for a hint as to why.
Nick was silent, letting him look.
“What’s wrong?” Kelly asked.
Nick shook his head, smiling sadly.
“What?”
When Nick spoke, his voice had gone hoarse. “It’s just . . . someday I hope you’ll say it back again.”