Nico inhaled deeply, eyelids fluttering at the scent of Mal’s skin, something spicy, masculine, probably his deodorant. Mal rarely wore cologne or perfumes. Nico wanted to roll around in his scent. Being this close to Mal was making Nico feel feral. They never should have crossed that line.
The chill of the cleansing wipes on Nico’s overheated skin helped bring him back down to Earth, but then Mal’s warm fingers were dotting moisturizer onto his cheeks and chin, rubbing it in carefully, taking far more time than needed. Nico didn’t complain. He couldn’t really gather enough brain cells to do so. He watched as Mal removed two star-shaped pimple patches from the package, placing one on a spot below Nico’s right eye and another on his chin. He couldn’t imagine ever letting anyone else see him like this.
“Cute,” Mal muttered, almost to himself.
When he stepped back, Nico hopped down, eager to escape. But Mal stopped him with a hand in the center of his chest, then grabbed a bottle from the counter. Nico’s breath quickened, fighting the moan threatening to bubble from his lips as he watched Mal pump unscented lotion into his hands, rubbing them together. Why was he tormenting him like this?
“Turn around,” he said, voice huskier than Nico had ever heard it.
It didn’t even occur to him to refuse. He turned away from Mal, letting him spread the lotion over his back, watching Mal’s eyes greedily roam the large tattoo that took up his torso. Mal called it Nico’s ‘living canvas.’ Nico was proud of his tattoo, a sprawling Studio Ghibli-inspired landscape, spanning from shoulder to waist.
He’d worked hard on it, planning and saving for it for three years. It was an intricate blend of elements that appeared to be in motion, flowing together in a dreamlike composition. In the center of his back was Howl’s castle with its mismatched turrets, pipes and legs, smoke tufting from the chimneys. Behind the castle, a full moon glowed, the edges blending into the starry sky. It was an homage to the movies that had gotten him through his shitty childhood, movies he loved. Movies Mal loved, too.
Nico gave a broken gasp as Mal spun him around. He caught Nico’s gaze, a near predatory look in his eyes as he stared him down like he was daring Nico to stop him. Mal took his time getting more lotion, then warming it up. Was it possible to die of anticipation? If so, Nico was on life support. He clenched his teeth together to hold back the whine threatening to bubble up as Mal’s hands found Nico’s chest. He prayed Mal didn’t look down, that he wouldn’t see how this…routine was affecting him.
His blood whooshed in his ears. He held his breath as Mal’s fingers traced the three blue pixelated hearts just above his now painfully erect left nipple. Mal’s gaze lingered on the tight peakbefore moving on, fingertips tracing the broken angel wings in the center of his chest. Nico was practically vibrating, desperate to flee but also desperate for Mal to continue. He teased his thumb across Nico’s No-Face tattoo on his right pec, brushing the tender nub just below, making Nico gasp.
Mal’s gaze darted back to his. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all, the pad of his thumb still dragging over it.
“S’okay,” Nico managed, voice rusty.
Mal smoothed his palms down Nico’s ribs, soothing lotion over the scorpion tattoo on the left side of his chest and the Itachi tattoo on his right. Nico slowly blew out the air he’d been hoarding, expecting Mal to drop his hands. He did, but only to tightly grip the pockets of Nico’s joggers, yanking them low, exposing the nerdy gamer tattoos nestled in his hip dips. The Playstation face buttons sat on his right, the D-pad on his left. He’d thought he was so clever when he’d gotten them illegally at sixteen. Mal made a show of lowering his eyes to the ink there. There was no way he couldn’t see the bulge in his pants, but he appeared content to ignore it, instead dragging his thumbs over the symbols on either side, slowly driving Nico mad.
Visions of Mal flooded his brain—Mal’s hands on his hips, holding him tight enough to cause bruises, holding his lower half in the air as he pounded into him, using Nico for his pleasure. Nico’s whimper became a cough. Mal’s head jerked up. Nico cleared his throat, stepping back just to put some much-needed space between them for Nico’s own sanity.
Mal let him go, though seemingly reluctant. He still blocked the door, leaving Nico no choice but to stand there as Mal grabbed his cotton candy chapstick, smoothing it over his lips, before stepping out of Nico’s way. He made to scoot past him in the small space, but, before he could, Mal’s hand curled around the back of his neck, pulling him in, pressing their mouths together in a chaste kiss that lingered.
“So your lips don’t get chapped,” Mal said. “You didn’t drink enough water today.”
“Thanks,” Nico said, voice raw.
He made his escape before Mal could respond, brushing past him, then speed-walking to the bedroom, face-planting into their tiny shared mattress with a loud groan. How were they going to sleep in the same bed after what had happened between them earlier? How were they supposed to be normal now that they’d…fooled around?
He heard Mal enter but made a concerted effort to ignore his movements. Maybe he could just play dead or act like he’d passed out. It worked for those fainting goats, right? He sucked in a startled breath as fingers hooked into his joggers once more, tugging with much more intent. His pulse skyrocketed, his hands darting out to grip Mal’s wrists, turning wild eyes on him. “What are you…” he started, then stopped short, remembering this wasn’t anything new.
Mal was always undressing Nico when he fell asleep with clothes on. Which was surprisingly often. He didn’t sleep well when he was fully dressed. Something about the way the fabric bunched around him made him want to die. Mal understood. The two of them were very different flavors of neurodivergent but they shared an aversion to constricting clothing.
“You’re going to be uncomfortable and sweaty if you sleep in those pants. Take them off,” Mal said, his tone a cross between confused and huffy, like he was irritated that Nico was being weird about something they did all the time.
“Right, sorry. I was just dozing off, I guess,” he lied, heartbeat skipping.
His cock kicked in his pants as he lifted his hips, letting Mal tug them off, his whole body flushing like he was getting him naked. Mal snorted once he wrestled them down and off. Nicodidn’t even ask why. He was sure it was his borrowed black boxers with the little yellow baby chicks on them.
“Get up, I need to make the bed.”
Nico huffed but dragged himself up, watching as Mal quickly fixed the sheets, making sure there wasn’t so much as a wrinkle in sight. As soon as he finished, Nico collapsed once more, grabbing what he knew was Mal’s pillow, then inhaling deeply like a total weirdo. Hopefully, Mal didn’t notice.
He listened, half asleep, as Mal continued to get ready for bed, plugging in their phones and making sure alarms were set, the familiarity of his movements lulling him. He was almost out when he heard him open and close one of the drawers, then the rustling of fabric. He turned his head, keeping one side buried in Mal’s pillow as he covertly watched his friend, shamelessly gawking.
Mal peeled his shirt off, tossing it in the general direction of the hamper, then lowered his borrowed joggers, giving Nico unfettered access to Mal’s sublime bare ass. He’d clearly skipped underwear after his shower. Saliva pooled in his mouth. Mal had been commando the whole time. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, but it never failed to tickle Nico’s brain. He tried hard to think of his best friend like a Ken doll, just smooth plastic between his legs. But that was hard to do when he’d seen him very naked, when he’d felt his hard length pressing against him just hours before.
Fuck, his ass was so…biteable. Nico wanted to bite it. He wanted Mal to bite him, too.No. No. No. No. No.He absolutely could not think about that. If he did, it was all over for him. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from leering at defined calves, thick thighs, and back muscles that flexed with every movement.
Kill me now.
This was torture.
If Mal was aware of Nico’s creeping, he didn’t acknowledge it. He shoved his legs into white boxer briefs—the short onesthat stopped at the thickest part of his thighs—then joined Nico on the bed. Nico didn’t have time to worry about if things were going to feel weird since their kiss. Mal slid an arm beneath him, drawing him close, slotting his leg between Nico’s, like he’d done a million times before. Nico tucked his head into Mal’s neck as usual, his scent soothing all his rough edges far better than his pillow ever could.
