Nico could hear the desperation in his own words. He knew his logic was flawed…or invisible, but he was fighting for his life in this conversation. If he lost Mal over something like this, he’d literally die. He’d rather have him as a friend than an ex-boyfriend.
Right now, Nico knew Mal thought he wanted this, wanted Nico, but Nico was too much in a relationship. For anyone. Even Mal. He’d tried it in high school, more than once. He really had. He’d wanted so badly to prove his mother wrong, but she’d been right. He’d been impossible to love.
Mal didn’t get it, not yet. He hadn’t seen the “real” Nico. The one who got clingy and desperate for attention. The one who would turn a boyfriend into a hyper-fixation and call him twenty times in a row because he couldn’t stop himself. The Nico who was so manic he couldn’t shut up no matter how much his brainscreamed for him to just…stop…talking. He didn’t know that, sometimes, Nico just hid in the shower and cried for no reason.
He didn’t know that the real Nico was wholly unworthy of someone like Mal. And Nico would make sure he never knew. He already knew him better than anyone else in the whole world.
When he realized Mal was waiting for some kind of answer, he shrugged, forcing his voice into one of annoyance. “Yeah, well…I don’t do the face-to-face fucking. This isn’t some cheesy romance. It’s just sex.”
Nico wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t for Mal to roll to his feet and shrug. “Okay.”
Nico’s heart plummeted into his stomach.
“Where are you going?” he asked, panic clawing over his vocal cords.
Mal tilted his head like a confused German Shepherd. “I’m going to get you some water and something to eat with some protein. I’ll be right back.”
The moment he was out the door, Nico was on his feet. He yanked his shorts back up, then fell back on the bed, rolling to face the wall. He didn’t know what his next move would be. He wanted Mal—needed him, even. But he couldn’t give him what he wanted.
But he also couldn’t just pretend to be asleep at seven PM.
The mattress sank as Mal sat beside him, helping Nico up whether he wanted it or not. Mal made him drink the whole bottle and eat the whole sandwich, then wordlessly set up his laptop, throwing on a nature documentary about rhinos and setting it on his thighs. Once he was settled, he gathered Nico into his arms just like they’d done a million times before. Nico pressed his ear to Mal’s heart, listening to the reassuring thud as he willed himself out of his downward spiral.
“Stop thinking so loud. It’s not the crisis you think it is, Fidget.”
“You’re wrong,” Nico whispered, then burrowed closer, grateful he had no more tears left.
Mal checked himself out in the mirror, turning this way and that, ensuring his makeup was flawless. As usual, he’d woken up with someone else’s voice rattling around in his head. This voice refused to wear Mal’s usual t-shirts and sweatpants. They wanted something pretty, feminine. Mal was quick to comply. It was an easy way to keep his headaches at bay. And Mal had learned long ago that fighting the voices had dire consequences.
Still, he had to work later and he couldn’t sacrifice comfort for style, not even to avoid the migraines and the screaming in his head. But Mal was a pro by now. He had outfits just for occasions like this. Before Shiloh had met Levi and fallen in love, Mal had been forced to buy his traditionally feminine clothes from the women’s department. Which was irritating. How could clothing have a gender?
But then Mal had met Felix.
Felix often used Mal as his real life dress form, pinning fabrics directly to his clothes to see how his designs fell on men as well as women. Felix was all about genderless fashion. Felixoften gifted Mal his prototypes once the design went live. That had been great for his day-to-day clothes but it didn’t help when he had to work. Until Felix had gotten the idea to collaborate with his husband, Avi, to make a line of genderless fitness clothing. The FNMG line had not only created a stir on social media, it had garnered an endless supply of dance clothes that spoke to Mal regardless of who he was when he woke in the morning.
Today, he wore a pair of black wide-legged track pants that hung low on his narrow hips and a long sleeved black cropped hoodie with the Gemini logo emblazoned in hot pink that matched the thin stripe on the side of his pants. The hoodie would have required something beneath it had he had the breasts to fill it out, but since he didn’t, it fell to the bottom of his ribcage, leaving most of his abdomen on full display.
He leaned closer to the vanity mirror—set up beside their shared computer— gathering the top half of his hair and securing it with an elastic. He liked the way the tendrils framed his face. He’d gone light on the makeup; primer and heavy sweat made Mal’s face break out. Instead, he’d settled for painting his lips a pretty petal pink and ringing his eyes with brown shadow. Nico said it made him look feline.
He kept his small gold hoops in his ears but added an ear cuff shaped like a small scorpion to the top—the one Nico had bought for him while they’d been thrifting. He was always buying Mal little gifts. Mal cupped his hands around his face, studying his reflection. He looked pretty. Delicate, even.
Mal wasn’t normally this self-absorbed. He rarely paid attention to his looks, but, today, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. He stood, now staring at his reflection in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of their bedroom door. He turned sideways, skimming a hand over his belly, turningenough to get a look at his ass in the pants. They clung nicely before flaring out.
Nico loved Mal’s abs, even if he’d never admit it. He was always finding an excuse to run his hands over them as they laid together watching television. It always seemed strange to Mal how obsessed people were with looks. Big or small. Fat or thin. Muscular or soft. It was all the same to Mal. Maybe it was that he often felt like a passenger in his own body. It seemed strange to praise people for something that, more often than not, had more to do with genetics than fitness. Mal hadn’t earned this body with hours in the gym. It was simply a byproduct of a life spent doing what he loved. He’d carved out this body with hours of dance, but it wasn’t something he usually found attractive himself.
There was nothing feminine about Mal’s body. He wasn’t lithe like Felix. He wasn’t cherubic like Ever. He had narrow hips and washboard abs but he also had wide shoulders, muscular arms, and thick thighs. His features were more refined, more pretty than handsome. But Mal preferred someone like Nico.
Nico was radiant without even trying. His blue eyes were almost always bright, his curls bouncy. His arms were defined, but his tummy was soft. Nico ate like someone had let a hungry six-year-old loose in a convenience store with an unlimited budget. Mal loved pressing his face to his stomach, tracing his fingers over the white puckered scar that traversed his abdomen.
His gaze traveled to Nico in the mirror’s surface. He smiled to himself when he saw nothing more than a lump beneath the blankets and a tangle of golden hair peeking from the top. Mal’s heart thumped a little harder, last night's memories flooding back to him. Nico had cried so well for him. He’d given himself over so easily, begged so sweetly. Had let him push him right to the edge of his limits.
Nico was already his. Mal could see the younger boy’s resolve spider-webbing like a fractured mirror. No, an eggshell. Nico wasn’t strong, only stubborn. He clung passionately to this idiotic idea that relationships ruined things, like a little kid clung to a security blanket. Nico had trust issues, but more than anything, he was afraid to let himself be happy.
Every time he’d let his guard down in the past, someone had hurt him. Mal knew, deep down, that Nico knew Mal would never hurt him. But admitting that was too scary right now. But that was alright. Mal was patient.
He headed into the kitchen, snagging Nico’s pills and a bottle of water. Nico didn’t stir when he re-entered the bedroom or when he crawled over him, straddling his side. He tugged the covers from the boy’s face, smiling when he made a tiny little whimper and tried to burrow deeper into the pillow.
Mal’s pillow. His dick twitched as he watched the other boy inhale deeply, like Mal’s scent soothed him. It pushed at something deep inside, something primal. Feral, even. A voice that screamed Nico belonged to him.
