: Saintsmourn - Nicholas & Patrick :

[dangernerd]

Nicholas Kirkland (Nicky to those who he considered friends) was at this moment finishing up the last of his reading for his college classes. In the little dorm-room that himself and Patrick shared, it was a muddle of books and random objects that they'd collected. Not only that but also bits and bobs of their friendship tied into neat little nostalgic notes.

The last rays of the sun was streaming in through the window and he was poised, feet crossed on desk and balancing barely on the back two legs-- precarious yes, and honestly he knew that he should not really be doing this. Coordination be damned, he'd never worried about it before despite the bumps and bruises he regularly got because he was perennially distracted.

It was almost time for Patrick to come home from his late evening classes and then they'd start their foraging for dinner.

After that, well the evening was still young and there was trouble to be had. All of which he looked forward to, after all Patrick had for as long as he remembered, been his favorite partner in crime.. they had grown up together and they had a special bond.

As close as brothers, except not quite-- and honestly? Nicholas was glad for that.

Comments

[giveeverything]

Oh not fucking fair, Nicky. Not when Patrick could feel his throat go dry as the other man stretched and arched that way, mostly naked so that Trick could see the way that lithe body moved, the shift of muscle beneath skin.

God but Trick had desperately, secretly, wanted to hear Nicky say words like this, had never been able to allow himself to hope for it. He wanted Nicky to want him the same way Trick desired him. And yes, okay, sometimes Nicky took very long showers, and oho god could that actually be true?

Shaking his head, he took a breath. Focus, Trick. Something was wrong. He couldn't let himself be selfish here, as much as his heart was yearning to just kiss that (currently sinfully filthy) mouth like he'd dreamed of for so long now. Nope. No.

He took a hesitant step towards him, dropping to one knee on the sofa. Reaching out, he pressed the back of his hand to Nicky's head. "We... we may need to get you checked out by an actual doctor, Nicky. This isn't you."

[dangernerd]

Nicky watched with nearly smouldering eyes as Trick walked over and then knelt next to the couch, he allowed himself a nearly rippling purr as that hand moved to press against the back of his forehead. He was unseasonably warm, which coincidentally made Trick very very cool.

The hand, oh gods the touch against his starving skin.

He did something nearly unexpected and yet nevertheless still unaccountably hot; he shifted his head so that he could brush his cheek against the back of Trick's fingers. It was a ploy that Jella had used when she wanted to be pet by Nicky, and now he was using it on Trick like some learned behavior.

"I do not need a doctor, Trick." he murmured huskily, his lips hunting and finding the point where thumb wrist, open mouth.. the barest hint of a tongue. "I need you." why did that sound like a very soft huffed whine, even as his blue eyes sought Trick's while the delicate tip of his tongue trailed a path against salted skin?

[giveeverything]

Trick was not a strong enough man to resist the way that Nicky nuzzled at his hand, so utterly catlike. It was almost pure reflex that he turned his hair enough to brush against his cheek and brush back some of his hair from that heated skin. He also nearly choked on the whimper he tried to swallow back as Nicky went and mouthed at his wrist.

He had to shut his eyes to steady himself, but when he opened them and looked into Nicky's eyes, familiar beautiful blue but blown wide in a way that he'd never seen before -- and certainly never seen directed at him. "You feel like you're burning up..."

But despite what he'd said, Trick was starting to think that Nicky was right, that a doctor was not what he needed, that this wasn't strictly a medical issue. There was something supernatural afoot here, some magic that was doing something to his best friend. He was very deliberatley keeping his attention on Nicky's face, not straying down that mostly naked body and the very obvious tent currently pitched in his underwear.

[dangernerd]

Unfortunately for Trick, each whimper was only solidifying his own desire-- he answered that whimper with a moan of his own, pressing heated lips against cooler skin while he shifted though so that he was facing the other man; perched on his side and his own lips parted as he looked up at Trick.

"I am burning up, though I feel cooler when you touch me." that was a statement of fact. He did not think that anything could feel as good as Trick's hand against him, he wanted it all over-- he wanted him to touch him, to slide palm over his skin, against abdomen and then finally underneath fabric underwear to take him in hand and... his imagination was supplying the details and he knew that if Trick touched him, he would feel good, not only that if Trick sank into him.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck, he had always imagined that strong athletic body rising up over him (Nicky liked the look of Trick's body, thought it was beautiful and streamlined) and his head fell back against the pillow. "I think the only thing that can help is if you touch me..."

[giveeverything]

Trick couldn't deny Nicky when he asked like that. If he could help him then, he had to help him. Didn't he? It was at least harmless enough to let his hand rest against Nicky's face, that skin so hot and and flushed beneath his hand. He wanted to make it better, somehow. His thumb caressed gently along the line of his cheekbone, slow and soft and so obviously affectionate.

"I want to help..." He wanted to fix whatever this was.

It had to be the thing in the house. Something that the demon had done to Nicky when it had been attacking him. He had been so frantically trying to get Nicky free from its grip at the time, and so much had been going on at the time. But that had to be it, didn't it? "I think it did something to you. Back at the house."

[dangernerd]

Oh, that certainly did feel wonderful to his parched skin-- it was not enough but it was a start and he would attempt to finagle anything out of Trick, he needed the other man with something akin to desperation and he was hoping that perhaps if he played his cards right he would get more. But this was also Nicky and he could not hide very much of anything, so his manipulation tactics would come out like a touch starved puppy.

His lips found pulse and his tongue ran against it lightly, oh why did Trick have to taste so good, he wondered how else he may taste, he wanted to slide his eyes downward but he was not that bold not yet, he did however look up at Trick with those blue eyes that looked like they were working through what Trick said.

"It is hard to think of anything except how much I want you." he was honest here, honest with himself. It also meant that Trick was now the main holder of their shared braincell because Nicholas's dick was making him absolutely and utterly stupid in a way that was almost pathetic. "You are going to have to do all the thinking, Trick." he wondered what Trick would do if he attempted to slip his hand into those jeans? Maybe touch the outside?

Right now he was pondering if he had the audacity to do so.

And like a magnet his hand moved to rest against Trick's abdomen, his own palm sliding downward and then he dropped his hand and the touch barely brushed the front of Trick's trousers, but they did.

Yup, there was that audacity.

[giveeverything]

"I think... I think this isn't you, Nicky. You don't want me like that." Did Trick sound as devastatedly disappointed and yearning as he felt as he stated this truth that he had lived with for years now. He'd have given anything for it to be otherwise, as much as he wanted Nicky, how hopelessly in love he was with him.

And here was Nicky, fevered and overcome with something saying things that made Trick want to claim those dangerous lips with his own and kiss him breathless. But they weren't... they weren't real.

Then that hand went wandering and Trick choked on whatever words that he'd been meaning to say next. His face flushed because there was no way that Nicky would miss the fact that Trick was aroused, the bulge trapped in his jeans the sort of evidence that could not exactly be denied. Trick wanted him too, desperately, deeply.

[dangernerd]

"This is me.." Nicky insisted, though it was rather in the air if Trick believed him. And it was, all of these emotions were being upended by the Incubus in a grand play to get fucked because that was going to feed him. But Trick did not know that whatsoever and at all-- instead Nicky's breath caught, he had felt the bulge there, the hard straining prick just underneath jeans and the low decadent throb of it.

And then Nicky had the audacity to run his tongue over his lower lip as he very slowly and carefully ran the back of his hand right over Patrick's arousal, the way that it felt.. warm, but also he knew that would quench him. Then his glance flicked up toward Trick and he spoke carefully and softly. "Kiss me Trick.. please kiss me?"

This was Nicky asking nicely, but if Trick did not-- if he continued to hold out, then there would be a very big chance that Nicky would not be in his bed when Trick woke up from sleep. (the Incubus thought that all that repressed tension would get him nice and fucked, but unfortunately he underestimated two nerds)

[giveeverything]

It wasn't fair for Nicky to say all these things that Trick wanted to believe. He was trying so hard to stay strong, to not fall into the sweet hope that maybe... maybe Nicky really did want him?

It also wasn't fair that the other man was teasing his already far too keyed up prick with that light but clearly deliberate touch. He looked back down into those eyes at exactly the wrong time, at exactly the moment that Nicky asked -- no, pleaded -- for him to kiss him.

Trick was, at the end of the day, only human. He stared, silent for a moment, before he leaned closer. He felt dizzy, caught in some dream as he grazed his lips against Nicky's like he'd imagined doing for so long. What could one kiss possibly hurt? That was what he told himself anyway.

[dangernerd]

What was a kiss between friends?

And then his mouth was brushed again, he let out a noise and it was nearly unclear what that noise meant, but his free hand was wrapping around that shoulder, to steady himself as his own mouth parted in response, his hand slid from prick but it did not go far, his hand gripping against hip to hold on while he mrrrh'd into that kiss as if it was the most beautifully lush thing that had happened to him.

His mouth was hot, a fevered sort of hot and would taste sweet-- nearly addictive.

Often times an Incubus or Succubus came to one in the form of the one that the sleeper desired the most, and right now for Trick-- it was Nicky; but it was Nicky-- there was truth in there, there was no lie. But it was there and wanton, mouth against mouth while he used his hand to pull the other man closer, just a shade closer. He wanted to eat this man up, wanted to chew on his best friend and to consume him, to be consume, to likewise be slaked.

And Trick was a glass of the most refreshing water.

[giveeverything]

Trick had wanted to kiss Nicky for forever, and the other man's lips were even warmer and softer than he'd imagined. The way the other man's hands gripped at him, urged him closer, it was all the things he'd hoped for, for so long. But there was that whisper at the back of his mind that this was wrong.

Nicky wasn't in his right mind. Trick was taking advantage of a situation that he had no business doing. He was clearly a terrible friend, but oh god just a moment more let him linger in this, memorizing the way Nicky felt and tasted and he was so fucking screwed. He'd shifted closer somewhere in the midst of that kiss, so when he finally forced himself to break away from those lips.

"Nicky... I'm sorry, I... I shouldn't have done that. Fuck."

[dangernerd]

He did not want you~ that insidious voice murmured into his mind, even though the lips were the most delicious lips that he had tasted, he felt Trick pull away and apologize for taking advantage of him, for everything. In this moment Nicky managed to pull through, his body was still hot and aching; his arousal attempting to force itself out of his black boxer-briefs.

Perhaps a tear found its way out where Trick could not see it as it escaped the corner of his eye and then seeped into the pillow that cradled his head.

"I'm starting to get tired.." he murmured this quietly as he closed his eyes so that he could not look Trick in the eyes, because he had ruined everything, and Trick did not want him and he should have expected this; he was left with that bitter rejection. He did not want to talk to Trick right now, he did not want to look at him, and so he carefully rolled onto his other side and presented his back to Trick before he curled himself into a fetal position, staring at the cushions of the couch where he was laying down.

[giveeverything]

Something felt like it shattered inside Patrick. Because it really seemed like Nicky had just come to his senses, and clearly he knew that Trick had taken advantage of the moment too. He shifted back as Nicky turned his back on him. His throat felt tight too, a lump of tears that he swallowed back. Nonono.

"I... yeah, okay. You should rest." Trick's voice was strained, soft because he didn't trust it not to break if he tried to speak louder. He stood back, looking at Nicky where the other man was curled up with his back to him, deliberately not looking to him.

What had he done? This was his fault.

He hesitated for a long moment. Then Nicky wound find himself draped in a light blanket and Patrick would go change out of his clothes into his pajamas, turn off the lights and crawl into his own bed and try to keep the sobbing that started bubbling up as quiet as possible. This. This was why he'd kept it to himself. Why he'd never planned on telling Nicky how he was so hopelessly in love with him. How bad had he ruined things between them? How was he going to fix this? Could it even be fixed?

[dangernerd]

Meanwhile, Nicky was perhaps doing his own quiet crying. The sort that it was better not to reveal to anyone, and all the while the voice in his head was telling him that Trick did not desire him, did not find him attractive and well, he had rather expected that-- he was too freckled and skinny, with no real discernable ass (even though there was no problem with his ass, not really) and the voice saying that he needed to find someone else to desire him.

There would be plenty of men and women who would find him attractive, there were places he could get rid of that ache.

But at this moment Nicky was stubborn and he was sad, a very dangerous combination so he laid there burning up; halfway through the night the blanket was tossed off and he went to take a cold shower, a very cold shower to see if that would do something to alleviate his rather raging hard-on-- around 2 AM the shower went on, and he was in there for nearly an hour to see if he could alleviate the absolute ache within him.

But no, his own sexual energy could not fulfill this-- and each time he came, it was empty and did nothing to dispel the deep hunger within him. But still he was stubborn even though the voice in his head was telling him to go out, that surely Trick would not notice that he was gone. He could not though, he refused to so with chattering lips from a too cold shower, he slipped under the covers, he only wore a t-shirt and underwear, he did not think that he could've stand to wear any other clothes.

So he spent the next two hours after that tossing and turning, until he fell into an almost dreamless but still fitful slumber. And perhaps that was when the fever overtook him for the first time, that spiralling dizziness as he tangled in sheets. Nicky's own tossing and turning got so bad that Jella had fled to Trick's bed for once, and was curled against the other guy's side, not pleased with this development.

[giveeverything]

Sleep did not come easy to Trick either. How could it when his mind was circling a spiral that led straight down with no end in sight, a freefall of anxiety over the irreparable damage that he'd done to their friendship in one weak, selfish action. But what this meant was that he was still awake when he heard Nicky get up and head into the shower at such an ungodly hour, was awake to realize how long he'd been in there and to hear him as he settled back in.

When Jella joined him, he finally gave up and sat up, looking over to Nicky's bed. Through the darkness, he thought the other man was asleep, but there was nothing peaceful about it. Concern surged and for the moment overpowered his own anxiety spiral about the kiss. He pet Jella gently for a moment, looking across the room at him.

Fuck it. He slipped from his bed, barefoot and wearing only his usual pajamas -- a loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts that had no business being as short as they were -- and made his way over to Nicky's bedside, murmuring quietly. "Nicky?" Was he awake?

[dangernerd]

Somewhere he heard his name being called but it was not a way that was spatial; he heard the whisper though and he attempted to call out, he thought perhaps it may be Trick but he could not be sure, it was almost like being underwater. He tries to reach out to the voice but he's burning up, can feel the flames consuming him, making it hard to even move.

Perhaps he murmurs something in his sleep but it is mumbled and makes very little sense.

If Trick were to touch Nicky, he would feel that the other man was far hotter than a human body could reasonably sustain, like touching a stove that had been turned on a few minutes prior. His eyes slit open and the eyes viewable between them, so blue but like flames. A voice speaks then, but it is not Nicky's own voice, it is the Incubus-- it bears a quality to it that was not the other man.

"He will die if you do not fuck him, he will die because he is too stubborn and stupid to go out and search for what he needs; and it will be all your fault." yes, the Incubus was not pulling any punches here.

[giveeverything]

Patrick startled at the way those eyes opened, the eerie inhuman fire in them. And then that voice. It sent an icy rush down the line of his spine even before he registers what the words actually said. "You... you leave him alone! Get out of him!"

Like that would work. Good job, Trick. That wasn't literally the most amateur move anyone had ever pulled. Cursing at his own idiocy, he moved to set a hand on Nicky's shoulder, gasping at how hot he felt. There was nothing natural about this fever. Fear wrapped its rough and icy fingers around his heart, and he shook the other man gently. "Nicky, wake up. Wake up and look at me. I need you to wake up. Please."

He will die. It echoed again and again and again in his head. No. He would not let that happen.

[dangernerd]

Nothing natural at all-- but the fact that Nicky could withstand this heat? That he was not already dead? Well that was something, but also there had been something otherworldy about the two young men, even the Incubus had recognized it, which made Nicky the perfect vessal; he'd tried with a few of the Saintsmourn college students that had come to the abandoned house to drink and party, but that had not been sufficient and the one he had chosen had not been able to accommodate him without just upping and dying after the first two rounds.

He rather thought this one would be different?

Nicky heard that voice again, this time more insistant and he tried to crack his own eyes open, but they felt impossibly heavy. His mouth parted, parched and dry and then the voice that came out was weak, this was Nicky's voice. "Tri--ck..."

Before the other voice inserted itself in. "Only you can can give him solace from this fever, Patrick O'Leary."

[giveeverything]

"Fuck all the way off, asshole..." Trick muttered when the voice that did not belong to Nicky piped up. This thing that was putting his best friend in danger? Oh he'd see it destroyed at his own hands. But first and foremost, there was Nicky. He had to make sure that he was all right, that he would be all right.

He brushed a hand over his friend's forehead -- so worryingly hot -- brushing his hair back. "I'm here, Nicky... I've got you. It's going to be okay." He would make it okay or he'd tear the world down to pieces around them both.

Both hands settled against Nicky's face now, coaxing him to look at him. He leaned in then to press a kiss first to the other man's forehead, then down to capture those lips with his own again, murmuring there softly, fervently. "Come on baby, open your eyes for me."

[dangernerd]

Cool lips against his forehead, and then he could feel his parched lips-- more coolness, he nearly craved it. A cold shower had not been enough at all, it had not been like this-- just a glimmer of how it could be, the way that the heat of his mouth answered to the coolness of those lips, he instinctively hunted for that mouth, and there was almost a begging quality to it. His eyes cracked open and he murmured softly, feeling palm cup his jaw and then he nuzzled against it, still a quality of feverish to it.

"Trick..? You don't.. you don't..."

He could not think of what he wanted to say, of what needed to be said. "If you don't.. I..." his voice felt heavy as if it was a struggle to get those out, and then hot tears leaked from the corner of his eyes, as he remembered what happened last night. "You don't.." he was clearly speaking too much but he did not wiggle away from the touch, he tried to soak as much of it up as possible until it went away, until Trick took it away.

[giveeverything]

Oh thank god. There was his Nicky, even if he sound a little out of it and like he was still struggling to put words together. The tears though, those tore at something in his chest like his heart was being shredded. His thumbs brushed lightly to soothe them away and he tried to stop those words with another kiss, brief and soft.

"I do, Nicky. Fuck, that's the whole problem. I just don't want to take advantage of you. I know this isn't... I know it's not what you want." It was what the incubus holding his best friend hostage wanted, and the stakes were Nicky's life. Now wasn't the time to be coy about what the entire awful truth was. "I am so in love with you it's been driving me crazy. I have dreamed about kissing you for years. And I am so, so sorry..."

That this was happening. That Nicky knew the truth now. But they could sort out how badly he was breaking their friendship when Nicky was out of danger. Right now all that mattered was making sure Nicky was okay, making sure he would survive.

[dangernerd]

Oh gods, Nicholas heard those words and it was near impossible to disguise the choked and slightly raw whimper and then his lips were caught and another sweet bout of coolness that soothed for a few moments; he was so hot and he ached in such a slow motion throbbing way; not just his entire body but his heart too. But his words would not come, even though he wanted to push them out they would not come.

He needed more of that mouth, more kisses-- he was greedy for it as his fingers clutched the other man's shoulders and then he almost arched the entirety of his body in the direction of Trick; almost like gravity-- but actions were not truly sufficient to convey how much those words meant to him.

His tongue tried to slip into that mouth, to stop those guilty words, he wanted to scream his own affection but his body was starting to develop a mind of its own and the need was growing far too much. "Please.. I need..." but he could not say so many things for his brain was wired too brokenly.

[giveeverything]

In any other circumstances, this would be a dream come true for Patrick. The way Nicky responded to his touch, the way he arched towards him and pulled him in closer, the way he held to him like the world was in danger of falling away around them, it was wonderful and beautiful and everything he'd ever wanted, but here it was all of it a broken joke the universe was playing on him because he knew this wasn't because Nicky wanted him.

But Nicky did need him, and that was enough.

His hand braced to one side of the other man, his free hand setting at his best friend's hip, gripping there through the thin fabric of the oversized t-shirt. Trick's lips parted to allow Nicky to take what he needed. Everything that Patrick had, everything he was, it was Nicky's.

"I know, baby. I know. I'm here. Tell me what you need... whatever you need."

[dangernerd]

Nicholas was so very hungry, he was nearly ravenous and it spoke volumes as he kissed Trick, perhaps even protested only a little when Trick had to draw his hips back to speak, to ask him what he wanted. And those hands which were so very cool, able to ease his fevered body. Only Trick could ease this, his mind thought-- only Patrick, and he knew why that was-- because he wanted him, had wanted him for the longest time.

It was beyond lust, but right now that was the only thing that was coming across the sharpest and brightest. "Touch..." he said open-mouthed against Trick's, forehead to forehead; he felt almost sweaty, almost clammy and that sweet fragrance of Nicky shone through. He allowed himself a moan and then started to arch himself up against Trick, body to body and the juncture of his thighs and the arousal in between rubbing up against a thigh, likely leaving a smear of precome there.

"You.. need.. you."

He needed to feed and here was Trick offering himself; he needed what Trick could only give him and that was his energy, he could feel it radiating off him and he could almost drink it-- it was so close.

[giveeverything]

"You have me, Nicky."

Whatever Nicky needed, Patrick would give it to him. He bit back a soft sound of his own as the other man arched against him, as he felt the wet smear of that hard cock along his thigh -- bare given that his sleep shorts were just that, short. -- and couldn't quite help the rock his own hips gave, the fact that Nicky would be able to feel that Trick's cock was stirring as well, with each kiss, each touch, each needing sound that Nicky voiced.

He took a breath to stead himself, his hand sliding down to Nicky's thigh until he hit bare skin, then up to slip beneath the hem of that t-shirt, intent and seeking now, fingertips finding and tracing up the underside of Nicky's prick, up to play over the head, smearing the bead of precome that he found there back down along the length of him.