“The truth?” Nico echoed, positive he was trapped in some fever dream.
Mal pressed his lips to Nico’s ear once more, nipping at it hard enough to pull a yelp from him. “Face it, Fidget. You’d be lost without me.”
Nico’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “I—No. That’s?—”
“Don’t misunderstand. I’d be lost without you, too. I know your mom fucked your head up about love and relationships. That’s why I was content to wait you out. It’s why I let youpretend some other man couldeverget you off better than I can. But you never follow through with it. Do you?”
Nico just laid there, burning from the inside out, mouth open. It was true. No matter how many times he tried to get with other men, it never happened.
Because none of them were Malachi.
Nico’s body lit up like a Christmas tree, the gravity of this realization rocketing through him.
Holy fuck.
None of them were Mal. His Mal.
Nico was so stupid.
Of course, Mal knew him better than anyone else. Their friends joked that they were codependent, inseparable. And they were. It was true. Looking back, Nico had handed his life over to Mal the day they met. He’d just never noticed because he was too busy being cocky about how lovesick Mal was over him. How he couldn’t take his eyes off him, how he was always touching him, running to do things for him, pushing others’ hands off him, possessive and greedy over him from the jump.
But…Mal was right. About everything. And Nico had never noticed.
He should’ve been horrified. Any normal person would be. At the very least, he should be embarrassed. The whole time he’d bragged about having Mal under his thumb, Mal had been using him like a little doll, a marionette dancing to whatever rhythm Mal chose.
Nico closed his eyes. He was suddenly so dizzy. His world had been thrown from its axis, and now, he was hurtling through space. Was Mal some kind of secret psychopath? Was it even a secret, really? He had a mean streak. Nico had witnessed it firsthand. He’d just never imagined Mal would be able to hurt him, much less that he’d enjoy it.
“I can see you spinning out, baby.” Mal crooned. Nico refused to open his eyes. He couldn’t. Not yet. “Don’t be scared. And don’t be mad.” He punctuated every sentence with a press of his lips against Nico’s skin. Forehead. Cheeks. Mouth. “We both get what we desire from this. Don’t we?” Mal’s thumb rubbed over Nico’s bottom lip, tugging his jaw open, tongue dipping inside, teasing over his. “I let the world think you own me—and, let’s be real, you do—and, in exchange, I take care of you, much, much better care than you were taking of yourself, no?” Nico allowed him to deepen the kiss, mourning the loss when he pulled back. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Is there? It’s what you’ve wanted your whole life…isn’t it?”
Nico gave a jerky nod, whispering, “Yes.”
Mal smiled like Nico’s answer pleased him, and Nico wondered if spontaneous combustion was real. “You always give into me so easily,” he murmured. “I’ve spent months jerking off in the shower, thinking about all the ways I’m going to ruin you.”
The implications of that statement set off a chain reaction in Nico’s body, his cock kicking, so much wetness leaking into his underwear. He had never felt need like this before. It was like this living thing inside him, pulsing low in his belly. A dozen emotions swirled within him, elation, lust…fear. So much fear. Fear of ruining their friendship, fear of Mal not being who Nico thought, fear of never knowing how it felt to come with Mal’s name on his lips.
“Can you start now?” Nico blurted, then buried his face in Mal’s neck, humiliation burning through him.
“As long as you understand,” Mal said, pulling him free, forcing him to look him in the eye.
“Understand?” Nico parroted, understanding nothing.
“Mm,” Mal said, finally fully releasing his wrists to slide his fingers into Nico’s hair, cradling his skull with such care, massaging his scalp.
“Understand what?” Nico asked, tongue clumsy and thoughts honeyed.
Mal’s hands tightened painfully in Nico’s hair until tears pricked at his eyes. “That you belong to me, just me.”
His possessive words and painful grip were offset by his conversational tone. It made Nico feel like he was losing it, like he was trapped in a dream. He released another shuddery breath. “You’re crazy. You said we could be friends with benefits.”
Mal scoffed. “That’s before you pushed me to come clean about everything, Fidget.” He loosened his grip on Nico’s roots, his hand finding Nico’s jaw, holding firm so he could only meet his gaze. “We can keep pretending those other guys can give you what you’re longing for if it turns you on, but if you fuck someone else”—his hand tightened on Nico’s jaw painfully—“you’re signing their fucking death certificate.”
Nico’s breath hitched, as much from the pain as the casual way Mal spoke of killing over him. Was this what it felt like to marry a Mulvaney? If so, he owed Felix and Noah a huge apology.
Mal gave him a little pout that went straight to Nico’s very confused dick. “Why do we have to keep up these stupid games now that you know the truth? You know nobody can give you what you want like I can. Nobody else willeverbe enough for you.”
“I…” Nico started, then stopped, stomach churning as something occurred to him. “Was all of this just some trick to get me to trust you?”
“All of what?” Mal asked, dipping his head to bite Nico’s chin hard enough to drag another cry from him, then looked down at Nico expectantly.
