“You are out of everyone’s fucking league.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Andrew says. “Maybe they should’ve checked you for a concussion. Maybe I should getthe first aid kit and check you over. Let me do that. I just need to?—”
“Stop,” Nicholas says, grabbing Andrew’s wrist before he can start sorting the already labeled and organized first aid kit.
“I can’t stop,” Andrew says, voice wobbly. “I don’t know how to let go, Nicki.”
“Yes, you do. You did it in that rage room, you did it in your apartment. I’ve seen you let go.”
“You’re not supposed to,” Andrew finally snaps. “You saw that because you weren’t supposed to mean anything. I wasn’t trying to impress you. And now?—”
“Now I know the real you, princess.”
“The real me is messy,” Andrew says, sounding unexpectedly broken. “I’m not perfect, I don’t have it all together. I’m so tired of pretending.”
“Then don’t pretend with me.” Unable to resist a second longer, Nicki pulls Andrew into his arms, everything slotting into place when Andrew moves willingly into his arms. Nicki’s always loved his body, loved the attention his looks got him, the power his size afforded him on the ice, but being able to hold Andrew is the best thing his body has ever done for him. “I want you. Perfectly imperfect andmine.”
“You’ll change your mind.”
“No, I won’t.”
“You might,” Andrew says, the warmth of his breath against Nicholas’s collar bone causing him to hold Andrew just that little bit tighter. “It might just be the deal.”
“It’s not?—”
“But it might be.” Despite the protest, Andrew holds him so tightly his sore ribs ache, but he doesn’t make a sound to indicate the discomfort, afraid Andrew might step away. “We need to give it time. If you meant it.”
“I don’t say shit I don’t mean, princess. If you hear something come out of my mouth, then I mean it.”
Andrew’s entire body shudders with the force of his exhale. Part of Nicholas wants to know who fucked Andrew over bad enough to make him believe he could in any way be unsatisfying or a disappointment, and the other part doesn’t because he knows he would do something really fucking stupid if he ever met them, like make them regret the day they were born.
“Now that we’ve established what I want, what do you want?”
“I’ll pass.”
“Princess.”
“No, thank you.”
“I can out stubborn you,” Nicholas says.
“No one can out stubborn an eldest sibling, trust me. Besides, I'd much rather talk about myself later. Maybe tomorrow.”
“I have to leave tomorrow,” Nicholas reminds him, burying his nose in Andrew’s hair. Fuck, he smells like the shampoo Nicholas put in his bathroom. He couldn’t help himself after Andrew moved in. He assumed he would use his own bath products, but the urge to have Andrew smelling like him again had him selfishly filling the guest shower with his own array of fancy hair care and bodywash, something Andrew apparently used again. Nicki wants to smell him everywhere, wants to lick him, too.
“Oh yeah.” Andrew’s chest expands, arms holding Nicholas so tight. “Maybe when you get back. I just…give me time.”
“I can be patient for you.”
“Can you?” Andrew pulls back, the corner of his mouth quirking up in amusement. He’s so expressive, it’s delightful. Nicki is so used to trying to read the room, knowing the difference between the bullshit people say and how they really feel. There’s no bullshit with Andrew, and while Nicholas can’t fathom he’s worthy of this kind of smile, he’s a selfish fucker whowill greedily take it. He’s going to take anything and everything Andrew gives him.
“I can.” Nicholas nuzzles into his hair again. “You smell good.”
“I smell likeyou,” Andrew huffs. “Your stuff smells good.”
“You can smell it on the source,” Nicholas offers. “I’ll go get naked and wash myself right now.”
“That’s not necessary,” Andrew mumbles, swatting Nicholas on the chest. He ends up leaving his hand on Nicholas’s chest, fingering the low, loose collar of his tank top. “You have so many tattoos.”
