I growl and tickle him, and we wrestle for a few minutes like a couple of horny teenagers. He pushes me down against the bed, and I smile.
“So, you really do like it… rough?”
“I like it every which way, baby. I do like it rough, but I also like it sweet.” I brush his hair out of his eyes so that he can see mine. “I do like to be made love to from time to time.”
Nick nods, and I think I see something there. I hope it’s the same thing that I have, because I don’t want to be in this boat alone.
“I just… I would never hurt you. Not in any real way. Not with the intention of causing you harm. I just don’t have it in me.” He turns me so I’m the little spoon and wraps his arms around me, gentle and warm as flannel sheets. I snuggle into him, lightly pushing my ass against his morning wood. I groan at the soreness but smile at his hardness.
I turn around and kiss up at his jawline and down his neck. I pull down his soft sleeping pants and lick him from root to tip, then smile when he groans. “This here is the fat head that fucked me over and over again last night,” I say, mouthing the ridge.
“Careful, baby. He’s a little sore, too.”
I blink innocently. “Oh baby, did my ass wreck your dick?” I giggle at the thought of it.
“Yeah, kinda. That thing you do when you squeeze back there… Hurts so good.”
“See! It’s fun to add a little pain into the pleasure. Like adding salt to watermelon, you taste the sweetness so much more.”
He peers down at me, that smile radiant against his gorgeous brown skin. “So, what? Does that mean you’re my watermelon?”
“Yeah, I think it does.”
His face goes serious for a moment, and I know what’s coming. This morning I’m actually ready for it. “I’m glad you’re here in bed with me, and last night was amazing, but we really do need to talk about what happened.”
I caress his face and nod, despite how hard my dick is. If we want more of the good , we’ve got to get it squared.
He caresses my face and continues. “I just… I wish I understood why you couldn’t tell me that you were homeless. You spent so many nights out there by yourself, and you didn’t have to. I… I would never have let you be out there like that. I hope you know that.” He punctuates this with another huge hug, and I sigh and let myself settle into his body.
I whisper against his warm skin, “I didn’t want to burden you. I didn’t want to be that guy who can’t take care of his shit. I just needed a little more time; I was working it out on my own. And then you gave me that great raise, and I knew I could get myself out of it faster.”
“I don’t care about faster, I care about ever. You are never to sleep outside again. Ever. Even if we’re in a fight, you’re not sleeping outside. Hell, I’ll get a hotel room and let you stay here before I ever let you sleep on the ground ever again. You have to promise me. Elijah, you have to promise me you will never do that again. That you will always tell me.”
I look down, ashamed for having worried him. “I promise. If I’m having a hard time, I’ll let you know. And… uh, I didn’t sleep on the ground until the end. I had a car for the first few months, and then between ARCH and the occasional abandoned house and, um, the gym, I usually could avoid going outside.”
“Here? Where?”
“Supply closet, but only if I was opening the next morning. If I used enough yoga mats it wasn’t too bad, but I had to be careful about you finding me there.”
He does that thing I love, where he notches his head above mine, drawing me toward him with his chin. “If I’d lost you, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I’m feeling things for you I’ve never felt before, even when I was in serious relationships. It would have destroyed me to lose you.”
I think about the Nick I met on my interview, on the first day of work, and he is worlds away from the Nick in bed with me right now, and I want him to understand. “I just need to be able to be an independent person and know that I can support myself. Most this last year happened because I was fully dependent on my aunt when I wasn’t deployed, and that really hurt me in the end.”
He strokes my hair, thoughtful. “I understand that, but it is good to be interdependent.”
“I’m too sleepy for big words.”
“It just means that you are good at things and I am good at things, and when we combine those good things, it’s better than it would be as individuals.”
His words make sense, but I need time to process how I feel about it. “I’ll think on it.”
Nick nods and trails his fingers along the tattoos on my chest and legs, letting the subject go.
“Damn, man. That’s some serious work.”
I follow his fingers, distracted. “My aunt Katie was a tattoo artist, and we both really dug the American Traditional style.”
“And what about this one?” Nick asks, pointing to the unfinished rose on my left shoulder.
