Shiloh and Levi exchanged a long glance, the annoying kind that told Nico they were silently communicating. Nico huffed again, then looked to Mal, who glanced in his direction like he sensed his eyes on him. When they made eye contact, he immediately dropped his gaze down to the food he was re-heating, ears going pink at the tips.
Mal was so weird. Not because he made Nico food. He would do that for any of them. He was domestic like that. He showed his affection with acts of service. Shiloh said Mal often did things for people because he was bad with words.
Nico didn’t think that was true at all. He and Mal often stayed up for hours talking about anything and nothing. Mal was deeply soulful when he wanted to be and shockingly silly at times. Not that anyone else knew that. Mal saved that part of himself for Nico. He was happy Mal trusted him enough to just be his weird self. It let Nico be weird, too.
Mal still terrified and confused most people who met him, but he was so good with the kids in his dance classes that even the parents had seemed to warm up to him. The kids seemed to love Mal’s spontaneity and his complete lack of shame. Nico envied how nothing embarrassed Mal. Everything embarrassed Nico.
Mal pushed the bowl into his hands. “Hurry up and eat so you can shower. You smell like the subway. I’ll go get the room set up.”
Nico watched him leave, then sat on the couch, shoveling beef bulgogi into his mouth. When he glanced at his friends, they were both gawking at him.“Whah?” he asked, mouth full.
“Nothing,” they both answered, voices full of mock innocence.
Nico ate another few bites in silence, then lurched to his feet, bowl in hand. “I can’t eat with you two judging me. It’s inhibiting my…digestion.”
He stomped towards his bedroom to find Mal, the two of them snickering behind him.
Maybe Nico and Mal should just get their own place. Even as he thought it, he knew it wouldn’t happen. Mal would never abandon his real loves: the kittens. Wasabi meowed at him from the cat tower, the orange Persian rolling onto her back and looking at him upside down. Nico couldn’t help but think she looked smug.
“You’re not paying attention,” Mal grumbled from above him.
Nico flushed, burrowing a little deeper into his side. “Am too.”
They both knew he was lying.
Nico had eaten his leftovers, then he’d taken a shower, washing the subway smell and his bad non-hook-up away before donning his softest boxers and Mal’s old dance jersey. They now curled up in their tiny full-sized bed, limbs tangled. He sighed where his head rested on Mal’s chest, then rubbed his face across the soft pink fabric like it was a pillow, inhaling the scent of Mal’s deodorant and their body wash. It unknotted something inside him. He should have just stayed home with Mal.
Like he could read Nico’s thoughts, Mal adjusted the laptop resting on his hips, then wrapped his arm around Nico to play with his curls in a way that always made him want to purr.
On their free nights, this was their ritual. Snuggle, snack, and watch something they both enjoyed. It was cozy. Comfortable. Easy. Unlike hook-ups. Nico didn’t understand it. Every time he tried to have a one night stand, the guys grew clingy and unreasonable the minute they got to the physical part. Nico didn’t want a relationship. He just wanted some rough, no-strings-attached sex.
That was why he usually saved his whoring for weekends, as God intended. He and Mal often went clubbing with their friends, drinking and partying, covered in body paint and glitter, yelling over house music that would have made Nico crazy if he wasn’t a little drunk or a little high. At the end of most nights, Nico and Mal were the only two left on the dance floor, dancing to the music long after they’d both struck out and their friends had ditched them.
When the club finally booted them out, they’d hit the all-night diner and binge on appetizers or breakfast food until they were both ready to bust before going home to shower and fall asleep watching anime.
Nico loved it, lovedthem. But that wasn’t the point.
The point was…Nico was horny. He hadn’t gotten laid in months. He hadn’t even been kissed since before he met Mal. It wasn’t a dry spell, it was a drought and Nico was fucking thirsty. Parched, really. Since Mal had come into his life, things had gotten easier in some ways but complicated in others.
It wasn’t Mal’s fault. He’d been true to his word. He’d never once attempted to keep Nico from going home with someone. Though he did seem to panic until Nico made it home at night, which was kind of sweet but wholly unnecessary given Nico’s body count. The murdery kind, not the fucking kind. In fact,Mal was so cool about Nico’s hook-ups, the two would often sit in bed, Nico tucked between Mal’s legs, holding each other’s phones, swiping left or right on the other’s potential matches.
But it didn’t matter.
Having a sex life with three roommates in a two-bedroom apartment was hard. Having a sex life when you shared a bed with one of said roommates was virtually impossible. He’d tried. In fact, he’d tried more than once to bring a guy home.
Okay, twice.
He’d tried twice.
The first was a third year med student from Kenwick, who had made it to his bedroom before immediately recoiling at Nico’sSpirited Awaydesk setup. He’d then launched into a tirade about how anime was for nerds and losers and guys who playedDungeons and Dragons.Nico was at least two of those three things so he’d escorted the guy to the door with a ‘fuck you’ and a ‘have a nice night.’
His second attempt was the bartender—Craig—from the club they frequented. He’d known about the roommate situation, been totally down, but when Nico returned from freshening up, Mal was on the couch and Craig was nowhere to be found. Mal had just shrugged and said he’d changed his mind after he’d seen the ‘bed situation.’
What was so weird about two grown men sharing a bed together? Did people not understand the therapeutic benefits of cuddling? It was warm and cozy, and having Mal’s arms around him while he slept felt amazing. Having Mal’s fingers in his hair was awesome, having Mal’s muscular thigh pressed right against Nico’s very neglected dick was…well, confusing…and frustrating.
Nico wasn’t blind. His best friend was incredibly hot. Like a five alarm fire hot. He’d found Mal sexy the moment he’d laid eyes on him. Who wouldn’t? He had soft brown hair and prettyblue eyes and the body of a Greek god. A body that only got bigger and firmer and more cut the more Mal danced.
And he was always dancing. It was his literal job.
