“How do you know I want to shower?”
“Your feet are dirty. You said you hate being dirty.”
Nicki isn’t wrong, he does want a shower, and the fact that Nicki knows this already, knows Andrew so well after a few fake dates, makes him wonder why everyone else in his life doesn’t.
“Alright, yeah.”
“I’m fucking starving,” Nicki announces. “What do you want to eat?”
“I’m fine,” Andrew automatically answers.
“I asked what you wanted, princess. I’m not eating in front of you. Unless you’re not hungry.”
“I’m notnothungry,” Andrew admits.
“Right, so let’s go to the house. Shower. Food. Rest.”
“Who put you in charge?” Andrew questions, surprised to find himself falling into step beside Nicki as they each grab their shoes and make their way towards the staircase that leads up to Nicki’s house.
“Me. Your only job is to relax.”
Andrew barks out a laugh. “Have you met me? I don’t do that.”
“Well, you’re going to do that now,” Nicki asserts.
“I don’t think you understand how things work. You can’t just demand something happen because you want it.”
“Yes, I can.” Nicki’s big hand settles at the back of Andrew’s neck again and something funny happens in Andrew’s stomach, little swoops of pleasure when Nicki squeezes. “I take care of what’s mine.”
“You make me sound like a possession,” Andrew scoffs.
“You’re mine.”
“I am notyours.”
“Yes, you are. Boyfriends remember. That makes you mine.”
“You’re such a fucking only child,” Andrew snorts. “Fine, yours. Until the end of this deal.”
Nicki grunts, his fingers spreading wide as they glide down Andrew’s back to rest at the base of his spine, guiding him up the stairs. He can manage on his own perfectly fine, something he should probably point out. He doesn’t.
“I should get my phone,” Andrew says when they pass the car on the way to the house.
Nicki’s hands settle at his waist, physically moving him away. “No.”
“I didn’t ask permission, Nicki.”
“No,” Nicki repeats. “It stresses you out.”
“Being alive stresses me out.”
“Well you being alive is needed. The phone is not.”
“Nicki—” he starts, cut off when Nicki’s hands settle at his hips more firmly to physically move him closer to the house. It’s caveman behavior—brutish and bossy—but the strength of his hands and the selfish relief at not having to deal with his family outweighs any arguments he might have. Or most of them. He has to pretend to object, at least a little. His pride demands it.
“I’ll make you a deal,” Andrew offers. “We can shower and eat first, but then phone after. At some point, I do have to actually deal with all of this. My brothers, Charlie especially, are probably worried.”
“Shower, eat, then watch a movie.”
