The sight of Andrew at home—in his home—where he belongs settles Nicholas. Granted, Eden and Amanda are here too, being obnoxious and loud, but their presence barely registers, because after three days of being deprived of Andrew’s pretty face, he’s finally looking at him again. He’s even nicer to look at than Nicki remembered.
If Tony were here, he’d be giving Nicholas so much shit. He did give him so much shit, most of the team did, telling him he was even grumpier than usual. They did nothing but chirp him in the locker room and on the road about missing Andrew and being whipped. Nicholas didn’t even bother denying it because he wasn’t embarrassed.
For the first time in his life, there’d been something he wanted more than winning hockey games—cuddles. Fucking Andrew King turning Nicholas into a cuddle slut.
He’s not sure how he went twenty-seven years not knowing how fucking addicting cuddling is, but now that he knows, he can’t get enough. He’s not touch starved, not even close. BeforeAndrew, he had enough sex his bed was rarely cold, and playing a full contact sport he’s touched all the time, albeit aggressively. But no one—fucking no one—has ever touched Nicholas the way Andrew does.
The quiet reverence that night they shared a bed, the way his elegant fingers mapped every single one of Nicholas’s tattoos like his body was a work of art, left Nicholasaching. The fact that he’d had to leave Andrew in bed the next morning, sleep rumpled and peaceful with his dark hair splayed across Nicholas’s pillow and his scent clinging to the sheets, should have been illegal. It was enough to piss Nicholas the fuck off.
That agitation and anger stayed with him through the long days of travel and away games, all of which they lost, cementing the fact that their game next week will be the last of the season.
The only thing making the disappointment of a losing season sting less is the man in front of him.
“There’s my favorite cousin. Nicholas, dear, you look like you want to eat Andrew.”
Nicholas rolls his eyes. “Who got Amanda drunk?”
“I got myself drunk. I am a strong and independent woman,” Amanda says. “I don’t need anyone.”
“Hell yeah,” Eden cheers.
“Except Denise,” Amanda adds. “I want to bury my face in her?—”
“That’s enough,” Nicholas interjects, suspecting that Andrew won’t want to hear Amanda’s drunk tirade about how much she loves her girlfriend’s squishy body. He knows from past experience that drunk Amanda can be a little graphic. “Time for you to get home to your woman.”
“I can’t drive,” Amanda frowns.
“I’ll drive her,” Eden offers.
“You’re tall enough to drive?” Nicholas says, earning him a death glare from Eden.
“Nicki,” Andrew chastises, which does nothing to make him feel bad. He is perfectly aware that Andrew is very fond of his brother’s boyfriend, but he’s equally aware that Eden is not fond of him. The shovel talk he’d given him in the kitchen of Andrew’s apartment had been one of the most uncomfortable and surreal experiences of his life, and that’s saying something since Nicholas has been yelled at by a lot of people. Never someone so small and pink and angry, though. He respects that Eden cares about Andrew, likes that he’s in Andrew’s corner, but also resents that Eden made it clear he thinks Nicholas isn’t good enough for Andrew.
Probably the fact that he’s right, that he could live a lifetime and never be half the man Andrew is, is what makes it worse. Eden feels like a reminder that he doesn’t deserve Andrew, and he wants him gone.
“You’re such a shithead,” Eden snaps, flipping Nicholas off with both hands. “You’re fucking lucky Andrew likes you, or I’d kick you in the balls.”
“Like you could.”
“Wanna fucking try me?” Eden says, up and off the couch before Nicholas knows it.
He might not like Eden, but he respects his lack of fucks. At least he’s not fake.
“Does he ever stop?”
“Behave, Nicki,” Andrew chastises, rising from the couch.
His eyes are heavy, like maybe he was half-asleep on the couch, and he runs a hand through his hair before moving towards Eden. Andrew leans in, having a hushed conversation that ends in another middle finger and death glare from Eden, bearable only because he and Amanda make their departure right after.
“You really are a shit,” Andrew says, sounding far less bothered about it than Eden had.
“It’s not my fault he's annoying,” Nicholas grumbles.
“I love him.”
“You don’t have feelings for him, do you?” Nicholas questions.
“Eden? Absolutely not. There is such a thing as familial and queer platonic love, you know. Eden is like my little brother, and I need you to be nice to him.”
