[through the lazy kisses and Nick's hand through his hair he's leaning into everything, giving in when the contact breaks. that feels nice, the doting and devotion. he tries to return it, but his head flops back down to the pillow instead. he's too far away to hold back what tumbles out.]
Mm, no. What if you're with someone?
[he's not asking to be cruel, or because he's anxious about the potential of it happening - it already has. he's walked in, seen too much and promptly turned away. he doesn't like those kinds of surprises. he doesn't even know if Nick knows that he's seen anything, but it looms over him anyway. he doesn't want to know.
so he adjusts himself. hips rolling forward to try for friction, a primal human reaction deep seeded inside of him and past all that murkiness of liquor and sleepiness.]
[ the answer comes automatically and without thought, and nick immediately regrets saying it. the thing is, it's such an easy truth to tell on the face of it. god knows nick has had his fair share of trysts in the house, but always somewhere else, in someone else's room, or in the other spaces that this place provides them, but never in this room. it should be that simple, august doesn't have to worry about interrupting anything, because nick doesn't bring that back here.
but why doesn't he?
that's the question that has nick in a chokehold, the follow up that nick hadn't thought about until he'd already answered, but august is already rocking up against him and it would take a stronger man than nick to resist that, anyway. nick is already pushing his thigh up further up between august's legs, shifting his hips to find the best angle to grind up against him. ]
[he pulls his head away, frowning as he looks at him. his eyes narrow. he's very suspicious of that answer. all August has done since he's arrived is avoid any unnecessary visits out of the blue. years ago, it was as common as anything, as buying bread or making coffee. he stopped showing up after enough times, stopped opening the door entirely. he made Nick come to him.]
Whatdoyoumean?
[all slurred out into one word while he's properly distracted again by Nick's willingness to give into his greed, his hand running along his leg to pull him in. he groans, half-hard and too drunk to know if he can really get anywhere, but it doesn't mean it doesn't feel just as good.]
[ god, nick wishes he was drunk right now, if only because he wouldn't be so hyperaware of everything that he's saying. there's a freedom to not thinking about the consequences of your words that nick is desperate for right now — but then, nick really needs all of that awareness to navigate the conversation that he's just inadvertedly started. ]
I mean—
[ it would be easier to focus if he wasn't also rolling his hips against august's, enough friction for his breath to hitch around a sigh. there's a lack of urgency that's appealing all on its own, rocking back against him just because it feels good, but august asked a question and nick really should answer. ]
I don't... [ does it sound like a confession? nick can't tell, he just knows that the words feel oddly hard to get out. ] I don't fuck anyone else in here. So like. It's fine. You can come round whenever you want, I mean it.
[he can't tell if he's joking, so much that the corner of his mouth turns upward to a lopsided smile. that statement sounds so far-fetched and unreal to him he almost laughs. even August has fucked people in his own bed here. he's tried to be discreet about it, but it's definitely been done.]
Why don't you?
[his thoughts are in one place while his dick is in another. all that part is thinking about is how good it would feel to be inside of him, how nice it would be to have Nick completely around his body. goes to show why these sorts of conversations should be left alone if one of them is undressed. his breaths become more shallow, heart rate picking up from the steady grind. without thinking, he presses another kiss to his lips, cupping his cheek with his hand.]
[ there it is. why doesn't nick use his perfectly good bed inside of his perfectly good room to do anything other than catch a few hours of sleep here and there? it's even occasionally proved more inconvenient, tumbling into a nearby hallway instead when nick could have led someone right here. so why doesn't nick sleep with anyone else here?
not for the first time, nick can't quite fathom how there was a world only a few weeks ago where he wasn't acutely aware of how in love he was, because this predates that horrifying moment of realisation. ever since he arrived, nick has been making excuses or going to other people. ]
I don't know.
[ it's only half a lie. nick doesn't really know why, because it doesn't mean anything to anyone other than him. nick doesn't know why, or at least he doesn't know how to explain in a way that makes sense. even if he could tell august everything, it still probably wouldn't make sense. why does nick put all these rules on himself for how he interacts with the world, if he's not willing to share any of them?
maybe he just wants august to--know something, or maybe he's too distracted by the combination of the kiss and the french and the delicious grind of his hips making his thoughts blur, but for whatever reason, he keeps talking through a breathy moan. ]
[without realizing it, August is using pleasure to sink his teeth into Nick's mind and drag out truth. it's hard to be open with him when he doesn't know what that really looks like between them, so now that he's too drunk to think and Nick is the sober one for once, he's finding that it's much easier to ask the questions he's always wanted to ask.
in the morning, he'll be able to make the correlation between Nick and drugs and why he deep dives into them so easily. right now, he's moaning into his mouth through another heady kiss, made wet from a very needy tongue. he thinks about his answer for a while, or forgets about it. he murmurs out a few intelligible words against lips.]
I'm just for us.
[that makes no sense, and what he meant to say got mixed up with something else entirely, but he's thinking too heavily about Nick's thigh between his legs and the warmth of his mouth.]
[ august is too drunk for nick to ever possibly hold him to these words, but he can't help taking a moment to close his eyes and imagine a world where august means it exactly the way that nick wants him to. it's a self-indulgent, delusional fantasy, but he can't help but entertain the idea all the same, a world where just for us means...
well. it's only a moment of delusion, not enough for nick put a name to it. honestly he might not be able to keep a lid on things if he starts thinking in specifics like that. it's a dangerous game, he's already said far too much, gotten so lucky that he hasn't blurted enough to really scare august, but he can't push his luck any further. ]
Me too.
[ he huffs out a sound a little like a laugh, sliding both his hands down august's body and finding his hips, coaxing him into a little more of a purposeful rhythm. this might not go anywhere, august might not last — honestly he might pass out before either of them get close to an orgasm — but it's not really about that, anyway. it's about holding him close, having august in his bed and his arms. ]
[he says me too and August kisses him again, like he did when he'd first climbed into bed with him with his rosary dangling from his neck. his mouth hurts and he doesn't register it's because he's been smiling all this time. Nick leads him, makes his movements more steady and he's glad for that, because he doesn't have the energy or focus to do it right.
yes he wants to come. yes he's holding on to Nick lazily, palming at skin or tugging on his shirt. being drunk lets him look desperate, hips rolling forward in search for more and soft groans escaping his throat every so often, bitten back or breathed into Nick's mouth during a kiss.]
I don't know if I can.
[he murmurs, but so relaxed here in Nick's arms, and his cock is getting harder and he's finally, finally somewhere he wants to be instead of the bar or drowning in a bottle somewhere else.]
[ nick whispers the words back, soft and soothing, permission given to just take as much from this as he needs. august is soft and pliant in a way that he never usually is, and it's easy work for nick to get an arm between august's neck and the bed, winding around his shoulders.
tenderness isn't something new or unusual for them but something about this still feels--too much like a scenario nick keeps working over in his brain, despite his best efforts to stop. august, coming home to Nick's best, pressing soft, sweet nothings into nick's mouth and falling asleep by his side — it's too much to hope for, but maybe it's okay, if he can have it for a night. ]
I'm glad you came here tonight.
[ he doesn't ever break the kiss for long, slow and lazy like the long roll of his hips, just enough to keep them feeling good without building any urgency. really, it's the closeness that he's chasing more than anything, the tangled wrap of their legs together and chests pressed tight, lips that never leave each other for more than a moment. really, just this could be enough. ]
[his body adjusts automatically as Nick wraps an arm around him, head lolling and eyes fluttering shut. he could already be half asleep with how effortless everything feels, chasing the slow build of an orgasm that only a dream can give him.
he makes a noise in the back of his throat as a response, keeping his fingers loose in Nick's hair and lips locked for slow and sleepy kisses. he interrupts the sweetness with his tongue, or to suck on his lower lip. he could do this for hours, exchanging the intoxicating wet heat of their mouths and grinding up against him.]
Keep— [oh, maybe he is getting somewhere. panting into Nick's mouth, tongue sliding over his.] saying that—
[he's dreamy, wanting for the deep roll of his hips. he's telling him he's glad that he came here, and August is grasping for more confirmation, aroused at the idea that the bed is just for them, that Nick saves this part of himself, that August's come and sweat are the only things that mix with Nick on these sheets and it will never be anyone else.]
if it wasn't so late, if august wasn't so drunk, nick might examine those three little words with an intensity that he isn't prepared for right now, having bared far too much of his soul in this conversation already. but it is late, and august is drunk, and nick has already said so much. what's a little more, really? ]
I'm glad you came here tonight. I'm glad you're here. [ nick murmurs the words right back, pausing here and there to keep kissing august, because it's honestly too hard to choose between the things he wants to say and august's mouth, soft and sleepy and sweet.
he could probably come like this, honestly, just from rutting against him like a horny teenager and august's words, poured right into his mouth. nick keeps them to something approximating a rhythm, hand steady on august's hips as he adjusts the angle of his own to get a better grind against his hard cock, and all the while he keeps talking. ] I just want you, right here, in my bed, with me. I want to wake up and you're already fucking me. I want to fall asleep with your cock in in my mouth. I want to feel your body next to mine, all the time.
[ he wants to wake up to august's face on the pillow next to his, fall asleep watching his hair tumble across his forehead, wants to lace their fingers together as they're drifting off and wake up to their hands still clasped together, but those are...too much for nick to do anything other than think it, really hard, and hope that's enough to keep them from spilling out as well. ]
[there is a part of him that feels so nurtured here in Nick's arms, and he's eating everything he says up. he's always sexually frustrated around him, it doesn't matter if they haven't talked or if they fucked the night before. he could be dreaming that all of this is happening, that he asked him to keep talking when usually August is doing everything to make sure only broken noises leave his mouth.
he's not one to whine or beg, he bites those noises down and brings his hand to Nick's hip -- to help, or to just have more to hold on to, he doesn't know -- and keeps up with the rhythm as much as he can, but his own hips are jerking every so often for more, and precome is sticking to his skin. there's so much already, like he's been holding back for so long and his cock is weeping from the lack of release. reality bends in his half-conscious state and he's thinking about Nick's mouth, being inside him, keeping him, using him, owning him.
he breathes out encouragements, 'just like that, keep going keep going, good, good you're so good, i wanna be inside of you-'
he wasn't sure anything was going to happen before, but now the pleasure is almost painful, and he's getting off from being wanted and the image Nick is painting for him.]
Fuck, can you— [he doesn't know what he's asking for. he's going to, he's-] you're gonna make me come.
[ nick doesn't need to be told twice — doesn't need to be asked at all, actually. august stutters out can you and nick is already moving, dropping the grip on august's hip so that he can drag a wet tongue across his palm. not much, nothing showy or tantalising like he might usually put on just to see august's pupils dilate as he watches, just wet enough that he can push a hand down into his waistband, wrap his fingers around august's cock. ]
I want you here all the time.
[ he's whispering now, like they're at some risk of being heard, like he's sharing secrets--in a way he is, he can't help but let the thoughts that he's been holding so close to his chest tumble out. not when he has august like this, loose and messy in his arms, sleepy and drunk and still slurring praise out for nick between moans.
how can he not tell him everything? or at least as much as nick can possibly risk exposing, without spilling it all out. nick strokes the hard length of him, a slower pace at first, but quickly building as he keeps whispering. ]
Everything is always better when you're around. I don't ever want a break from you. Anytime you want me, I'll be there. Any time.
[the minor interruption sets him back, but it's not enough of a hiccup to set him off course entirely. he's stuck on almost, and knows Nick's hand will bring him where he needs to be. August can't believe he's so weak for him, but yes he can because here he is sloshed in his bed and arms, trying to fuck his hand. they both know it's all he can manage, horny and hot with his mind blurry with drink.
Nicks words sound like a confession, making his heart swell in ways he didn't think he'd ever get to feel. it's the constant reassurance that gets him there, like he's exactly where he's supposed to be. he has nothing to worry about right now, and it's not long before his thrusts become desperate and he can't keep his focus on kissing him or his hands just on one spot of Nick's body.
there's not enough of him there to touch. he's kissing him again, which turns into biting his lower lip, which then turns into a choked out moan and finally he's digging his fingers into his hip — rough enough to bruise — while he rides out his orgasm, spilling into Nick's hand and making a mess of his clothes (and himself). it's — a lot. not that he even realizes it, or knows what's happening after he comes. he's leaning himself completely against Nick's body, pressing their foreheads together, eyes shut and mind blank. all that's left are his shallow whiskey-filled breaths against his face. he loves him, he loves,]
[ nick doesn't let him go right away, still stroking him through his orgasm with long, lazy pumps, until august has all but collapsed in his arms and his cock is softening in nick's palm. even then he entertains the thought of falling asleep exactly like this, august still cupped in hand, but there's self-indulgence and then there's impracticality, so he's gentle and careful as he slides his hand back out of august's underwear.
...he's less gentle and careful when he wipes his palm on the back of august's shirt, but fuck it, it's fine. nick will get him a clean shirt in the morning, after they've showered all this mess away and maybe had a repeat performance or two. he's more concerned with winding both his arms back around august's body now that he has them both free, listening to the pants still coming out of him, feeling his forehead sweaty and warm against his own. ]
Yeah.
[ nick doesn't know what he's agreeing to but he knows that he does, with complete certainty. his eyes close too, and it's maybe the first time where he thinks that this could be enough and really believes it. he doesn't kiss august, just exhales in tandem with him, wonders if their hearts are thudding away in rhythm with each other too. ]
[is all he can manage. a drunk August is one easily manipulated, and here they are half above the covers with his arms loose and heavy around Nick's body. he's agreeing with him and his brows furrow -- did he say the whole thing? did Nick just say yeah in response? -- but his voice is a distant whisper and sleep is swallowing up whatever parts of him are left awake. he can't fight it, cant argue or ask any more questions.
he's out within a few minutes, forehead still pressed against his, the soft exhales of Nick matching his breathing soothing him into a kind dreamland. a kind one is an empty one, and there's nothing waiting for him there in his subconscious tonight. he wakes much later - probably in the early afternoon, to bend Nick over and fuck him into the bed before falling asleep (again). he fills another appetite that day, regular food isn't on the menu.]
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no subject
Mm, no. What if you're with someone?
[he's not asking to be cruel, or because he's anxious about the potential of it happening - it already has. he's walked in, seen too much and promptly turned away. he doesn't like those kinds of surprises. he doesn't even know if Nick knows that he's seen anything, but it looms over him anyway. he doesn't want to know.
so he adjusts himself. hips rolling forward to try for friction, a primal human reaction deep seeded inside of him and past all that murkiness of liquor and sleepiness.]
no subject
[ the answer comes automatically and without thought, and nick immediately regrets saying it. the thing is, it's such an easy truth to tell on the face of it. god knows nick has had his fair share of trysts in the house, but always somewhere else, in someone else's room, or in the other spaces that this place provides them, but never in this room. it should be that simple, august doesn't have to worry about interrupting anything, because nick doesn't bring that back here.
but why doesn't he?
that's the question that has nick in a chokehold, the follow up that nick hadn't thought about until he'd already answered, but august is already rocking up against him and it would take a stronger man than nick to resist that, anyway. nick is already pushing his thigh up further up between august's legs, shifting his hips to find the best angle to grind up against him. ]
no subject
Whatdoyoumean?
[all slurred out into one word while he's properly distracted again by Nick's willingness to give into his greed, his hand running along his leg to pull him in. he groans, half-hard and too drunk to know if he can really get anywhere, but it doesn't mean it doesn't feel just as good.]
no subject
I mean—
[ it would be easier to focus if he wasn't also rolling his hips against august's, enough friction for his breath to hitch around a sigh. there's a lack of urgency that's appealing all on its own, rocking back against him just because it feels good, but august asked a question and nick really should answer. ]
I don't... [ does it sound like a confession? nick can't tell, he just knows that the words feel oddly hard to get out. ] I don't fuck anyone else in here. So like. It's fine. You can come round whenever you want, I mean it.
no subject
Why don't you?
[his thoughts are in one place while his dick is in another. all that part is thinking about is how good it would feel to be inside of him, how nice it would be to have Nick completely around his body. goes to show why these sorts of conversations should be left alone if one of them is undressed. his breaths become more shallow, heart rate picking up from the steady grind. without thinking, he presses another kiss to his lips, cupping his cheek with his hand.]
Je suis fou de toi.
no subject
not for the first time, nick can't quite fathom how there was a world only a few weeks ago where he wasn't acutely aware of how in love he was, because this predates that horrifying moment of realisation. ever since he arrived, nick has been making excuses or going to other people. ]
I don't know.
[ it's only half a lie. nick doesn't really know why, because it doesn't mean anything to anyone other than him. nick doesn't know why, or at least he doesn't know how to explain in a way that makes sense. even if he could tell august everything, it still probably wouldn't make sense. why does nick put all these rules on himself for how he interacts with the world, if he's not willing to share any of them?
maybe he just wants august to--know something, or maybe he's too distracted by the combination of the kiss and the french and the delicious grind of his hips making his thoughts blur, but for whatever reason, he keeps talking through a breathy moan. ]
I guess I wanted something that was just for us.
no subject
in the morning, he'll be able to make the correlation between Nick and drugs and why he deep dives into them so easily. right now, he's moaning into his mouth through another heady kiss, made wet from a very needy tongue. he thinks about his answer for a while, or forgets about it. he murmurs out a few intelligible words against lips.]
I'm just for us.
[that makes no sense, and what he meant to say got mixed up with something else entirely, but he's thinking too heavily about Nick's thigh between his legs and the warmth of his mouth.]
no subject
well. it's only a moment of delusion, not enough for nick put a name to it. honestly he might not be able to keep a lid on things if he starts thinking in specifics like that. it's a dangerous game, he's already said far too much, gotten so lucky that he hasn't blurted enough to really scare august, but he can't push his luck any further. ]
Me too.
[ he huffs out a sound a little like a laugh, sliding both his hands down august's body and finding his hips, coaxing him into a little more of a purposeful rhythm. this might not go anywhere, august might not last — honestly he might pass out before either of them get close to an orgasm — but it's not really about that, anyway. it's about holding him close, having august in his bed and his arms. ]
Do you want to come?
no subject
yes he wants to come. yes he's holding on to Nick lazily, palming at skin or tugging on his shirt. being drunk lets him look desperate, hips rolling forward in search for more and soft groans escaping his throat every so often, bitten back or breathed into Nick's mouth during a kiss.]
I don't know if I can.
[he murmurs, but so relaxed here in Nick's arms, and his cock is getting harder and he's finally, finally somewhere he wants to be instead of the bar or drowning in a bottle somewhere else.]
no subject
[ nick whispers the words back, soft and soothing, permission given to just take as much from this as he needs. august is soft and pliant in a way that he never usually is, and it's easy work for nick to get an arm between august's neck and the bed, winding around his shoulders.
tenderness isn't something new or unusual for them but something about this still feels--too much like a scenario nick keeps working over in his brain, despite his best efforts to stop. august, coming home to Nick's best, pressing soft, sweet nothings into nick's mouth and falling asleep by his side — it's too much to hope for, but maybe it's okay, if he can have it for a night. ]
I'm glad you came here tonight.
[ he doesn't ever break the kiss for long, slow and lazy like the long roll of his hips, just enough to keep them feeling good without building any urgency. really, it's the closeness that he's chasing more than anything, the tangled wrap of their legs together and chests pressed tight, lips that never leave each other for more than a moment. really, just this could be enough. ]
no subject
he makes a noise in the back of his throat as a response, keeping his fingers loose in Nick's hair and lips locked for slow and sleepy kisses. he interrupts the sweetness with his tongue, or to suck on his lower lip. he could do this for hours, exchanging the intoxicating wet heat of their mouths and grinding up against him.]
Keep— [oh, maybe he is getting somewhere. panting into Nick's mouth, tongue sliding over his.] saying that—
[he's dreamy, wanting for the deep roll of his hips. he's telling him he's glad that he came here, and August is grasping for more confirmation, aroused at the idea that the bed is just for them, that Nick saves this part of himself, that August's come and sweat are the only things that mix with Nick on these sheets and it will never be anyone else.]
no subject
if it wasn't so late, if august wasn't so drunk, nick might examine those three little words with an intensity that he isn't prepared for right now, having bared far too much of his soul in this conversation already. but it is late, and august is drunk, and nick has already said so much. what's a little more, really? ]
I'm glad you came here tonight. I'm glad you're here. [ nick murmurs the words right back, pausing here and there to keep kissing august, because it's honestly too hard to choose between the things he wants to say and august's mouth, soft and sleepy and sweet.
he could probably come like this, honestly, just from rutting against him like a horny teenager and august's words, poured right into his mouth. nick keeps them to something approximating a rhythm, hand steady on august's hips as he adjusts the angle of his own to get a better grind against his hard cock, and all the while he keeps talking. ] I just want you, right here, in my bed, with me. I want to wake up and you're already fucking me. I want to fall asleep with your cock in in my mouth. I want to feel your body next to mine, all the time.
[ he wants to wake up to august's face on the pillow next to his, fall asleep watching his hair tumble across his forehead, wants to lace their fingers together as they're drifting off and wake up to their hands still clasped together, but those are...too much for nick to do anything other than think it, really hard, and hope that's enough to keep them from spilling out as well. ]
no subject
he's not one to whine or beg, he bites those noises down and brings his hand to Nick's hip -- to help, or to just have more to hold on to, he doesn't know -- and keeps up with the rhythm as much as he can, but his own hips are jerking every so often for more, and precome is sticking to his skin. there's so much already, like he's been holding back for so long and his cock is weeping from the lack of release. reality bends in his half-conscious state and he's thinking about Nick's mouth, being inside him, keeping him, using him, owning him.
he breathes out encouragements, 'just like that, keep going keep going, good, good you're so good, i wanna be inside of you-'
he wasn't sure anything was going to happen before, but now the pleasure is almost painful, and he's getting off from being wanted and the image Nick is painting for him.]
Fuck, can you— [he doesn't know what he's asking for. he's going to, he's-] you're gonna make me come.
no subject
I want you here all the time.
[ he's whispering now, like they're at some risk of being heard, like he's sharing secrets--in a way he is, he can't help but let the thoughts that he's been holding so close to his chest tumble out. not when he has august like this, loose and messy in his arms, sleepy and drunk and still slurring praise out for nick between moans.
how can he not tell him everything? or at least as much as nick can possibly risk exposing, without spilling it all out. nick strokes the hard length of him, a slower pace at first, but quickly building as he keeps whispering. ]
Everything is always better when you're around. I don't ever want a break from you. Anytime you want me, I'll be there. Any time.
no subject
Nicks words sound like a confession, making his heart swell in ways he didn't think he'd ever get to feel. it's the constant reassurance that gets him there, like he's exactly where he's supposed to be. he has nothing to worry about right now, and it's not long before his thrusts become desperate and he can't keep his focus on kissing him or his hands just on one spot of Nick's body.
there's not enough of him there to touch. he's kissing him again, which turns into biting his lower lip, which then turns into a choked out moan and finally he's digging his fingers into his hip — rough enough to bruise — while he rides out his orgasm, spilling into Nick's hand and making a mess of his clothes (and himself). it's — a lot. not that he even realizes it, or knows what's happening after he comes. he's leaning himself completely against Nick's body, pressing their foreheads together, eyes shut and mind blank. all that's left are his shallow whiskey-filled breaths against his face. he loves him, he loves,]
— You.
no subject
...he's less gentle and careful when he wipes his palm on the back of august's shirt, but fuck it, it's fine. nick will get him a clean shirt in the morning, after they've showered all this mess away and maybe had a repeat performance or two. he's more concerned with winding both his arms back around august's body now that he has them both free, listening to the pants still coming out of him, feeling his forehead sweaty and warm against his own. ]
Yeah.
[ nick doesn't know what he's agreeing to but he knows that he does, with complete certainty. his eyes close too, and it's maybe the first time where he thinks that this could be enough and really believes it. he doesn't kiss august, just exhales in tandem with him, wonders if their hearts are thudding away in rhythm with each other too. ]
Go to sleep, I've got you.
🎀
[is all he can manage. a drunk August is one easily manipulated, and here they are half above the covers with his arms loose and heavy around Nick's body. he's agreeing with him and his brows furrow -- did he say the whole thing? did Nick just say yeah in response? -- but his voice is a distant whisper and sleep is swallowing up whatever parts of him are left awake. he can't fight it, cant argue or ask any more questions.
he's out within a few minutes, forehead still pressed against his, the soft exhales of Nick matching his breathing soothing him into a kind dreamland. a kind one is an empty one, and there's nothing waiting for him there in his subconscious tonight. he wakes much later - probably in the early afternoon, to bend Nick over and fuck him into the bed before falling asleep (again). he fills another appetite that day, regular food isn't on the menu.]