Fic: AAR: Most Delicious Poison (And You're the Cure, Too): Nick/Tyson
Title: Most Delicious Poison (And You're the Cure, Too)
Rating: Light R
Pairing: Nick/Tyson
Warnings: um, teenage boys making out. Which, handily, is also a summary.
Word Count: 3268
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with any of the people mentioned, and everything you read here is a filthy, filthy lie.
Summary: Teenage boys making out; Nick and Tyson are eighteen and sixteen respectively, it's the summer before Nick goes off to college, and the band is kind of nascent right now. But that mostly takes a back seat to the kissing.
(or, since this is apparently the only way I can think about this fic: bb!boyfrenz make-out fic! \0/)
AN: The only way this could be considered a PWP is if the value for 'PWP' was 'Porn without Porn', which would just be silly, so it is a KWP - Kissing Without Plot. (and it's the most kissing I've ever written ever, so, please be kind?) Beta'd by my dearest xrysomou.
I clearly decided that FOB's titles were the Best Thing Ever and decided to mimic them in length; the title is a mash-up (a horrible, horrible mashup) of Cleopatra's line from Antony and Cleopatra, "Now I feed myself with most delicious poison" and AAR's song, 'The Poison'.)
Cross-posted at my personal journal, rejectedfic, bandslashmania and aar_capslock. Apologies for those of you who got spammed!
Tyson was woken, not by the traditional sound of pebbles smacking into glass, but by his phone ringing.
“Whazzit?” He grumbled into the phone, not even bothering to check caller ID - it was bound to be Nick.
“Can you let me in?” Nick asked, and Tyson pulled the phone away from his ear to check the time.
“It’s one in the morning!”
“It’s Saturday tomorrow, you can sleep in. C’mon, Ty, let me in.”
“Can’t you climb through the window? My mom’s asleep,” Tyson complained, but he was already throwing back the covers and padding downstairs to let Nick in.
“Not unless y’want me to break a leg,” Nick returned. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” Tyson nodded, and eased the back door open. Nick grinned at him, thumbing the call off without even looking at his phone.
“Heya,” Nick told him, voice hushed. “How you doin’?” He sounded every bit as cheesy as he’d intended, and Tyson shut the door very carefully behind himself before hugging Nick. Nick’s hands were warm through the thin T-shirt Tyson was wearing, and the summer air was just a little muggy, not quite unpleasant yet, but getting that way. Nick turned his head, breathing against his neck, and after enjoying the hug for one long moment, Tyson pulled back.
“C’mon in,” he said, rather than stand out there all night. “I gotta lock up.”
Nick followed him in docilely, and waited in bated silence whilst Tyson locked the door behind him, tiptoeing up the stairs behind him and waiting for Tyson to shut the door to his bedroom before laughing a little, half under his breath. “Dude, that was awesome.” Tyson only answer was to grin back at him as he slid back into bed, patting the mattress next to him to indicate Nick should get in. Nick raised an eyebrow. “Um. Clothes?”
Tyson apparently couldn’t resist the eyebrow-waggle. At Nick’s Look, he grinned. “What, all I’m saying is, I really wouldn’t mind,” he said, keeping his voice carefully low.
Nick grinned. “My virtue,” he said with mock-horror.
“Wanna take your shoes and jeans off and come tarnish that virtue a bit more?” Tyson asked, shifting over a little in his narrow twin bed.
Nick was already toeing off his shoes and shucking his jeans, leaving him in a T-shirt and boxers, sliding into bed next to Tyson - half on top of Tyson, in fact - almost before he’d finished speaking. “You have the best ideas,” he told him, and Tyson grinned, snaking an arm around Nick and yanking him closer.
It was awkward, with two teenage boys in the bed, but they managed pretty well, since getting up-close and personal with each other was pretty much their sole aim right now. Nick was lying in between Tyson’s legs, sprawled a little awkwardly on top of him, and there was really no point dicking about with finesse or subtlety or whatever, so he leant forward and kissed him. Tyson grinned and kissed back, losing his smile as the kiss went on, Nick keeping things carefully chaste. They had all night, after all, even if Tyson was half-hard right now. (Nick wasn’t throwing stones; he was too.)
When Nick pulled back, Tyson grinned again, lips a little redder than normal. “You couldn’t ask? I’m just not that sort of boy.”
“You’re exactly that sort of boy,” Nick told him, not unreasonably. He bent his head a little and kissed experimentally at Tyson’s neck, which was the kind of thing girls were supposed to go wild over. The couple of times they’d actually had time and privacy to try things like this out, Tyson had seemed to like it, and he tilted his head now to give Nick better access.
“S’nice,” he murmured, and Nick, spurred on, experimented a little, grazing his teeth over the skin he’d just been kissing. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing, but it seemed like it might be fun. “Mm, harder,” Tyson told him, head lolling back against the pillow, and Nick obliged him by almost biting at his neck. “Yeah, that’s fucking nice,” Tyson muttered, and Nick could feel him shifting under him, trying to get a little more control over their position, so he shifted obligingly with him, the bed really too narrow for anything more athletic. (He couldn’t fucking wait until he and Tyson could try things out on a bed which wasn’t meant for one teenage boy rather smaller than Tyson ever would be.)
Tyson tilted his head again and kissed Nick, using his hands to keep Nick in place, kissing him like he couldn’t bear to stop, tonguing at Nick’s bottom lip until Nick opened his mouth against Tyson’s. Both of them were a little too inexperienced for it to feel anything other than wet and a little weird, but what they lacked in experience they made up for with enthusiasm, and Nick swept his tongue over Tyson’s right as Tyson shifted again, an abortive little move which jolted Nick up, sliding his mouth a different way over Tyson’s. He pulled back, a little out of breath.
“You totally practised this, didn’t you?” he whispered, half-accusing, half-laughing.
“Yeah,” Tyson nodded, his grin apparently uncontrollable. “Me and the crook of my elbow got real friendly there for a while.”
Nick grinned, and rested his head for a second on Tyson’s shoulder. “Does that actually work?”
“You tell me,” Tyson said boldly (though Nick could recognise bravado in Tyson from fifty paces, so), and leant awkwardly to the side to kiss him. It only half-worked, but Nick wasn’t about to complain about Tyson’s technique. Or, not much, anyway.
“S’OK,” he whispered as magnanimously as he could, “I’ll let you practise on me.”
“Oh, you’ll let me, will you?” Tyson raised an eyebrow, attempting to look intimidating, though Nick could only barely see it in the gloom of Tyson’s curtained bedroom. Tyson was clearly wishing he could flip them over and gain a little more control over the whole ‘kissing’ thing, but there was absolutely no room for anything so energetic in his tiny twin bed, so he settled for leaning up to kiss Nick’s neck, mimicking Nick’s own movements from mere moments earlier. Nick smiled, letting his eyes fall closed, only for them to snap open when Tyson grazed his teeth over the spot he’d just kissed.
“Dude, ow!” he hissed. “Your teeth are fuckin’ sharp!”
Tyson pulled back, eyes a little wide from what Nick could see in the darkness. “Um, sorry?” he whispered back. “I - I thought, ‘cos I liked it, you would too.”
The sudden shock of pain was almost instantly gone, and Nick was already regretting over-reacting. “Hey, no, I’m sorry,” he returned, “I- didn’t know I didn’t like that.”
“OK,” Tyson nodded, “so, no biting. Putting that one down on my What Not To Do list.” Some of his earlier confidence was returning, if the way he made a check mark in the air behind Nick’s shoulder was anything to go by.
Nick grinned. “But you like it, right?” he whispered, and Tyson nodded, a little shy and a lot anticipatory. “OK then.”
Tyson shifted under him again before he could make a move, though, and whispered a little guiltily, “sorry. My right leg’s starting to go numb.” The look he gave Nick was so chagrined, Nick couldn’t help but laugh a little, and leant forward to kiss him again, revelling a little in the way he could just do this. Maybe he couldn’t shove Tyson up against a locker in school and start making out with him, like Max Hooper, the linebacker, could - well, not unless he wanted to get the shit kicked out of him on the way home - but he and Ty had this instead. And they were gonna be going somewhere after high school, so Max Hooper could keep his PDAs and Nick could keep Tyson.
If he hadn’t been so busy kissing Tyson, he might have taken a moment to feel sorry for the guy.
Tyson eventually pulled back with a gasp, lips wet. After a second, he whispered, “so if you don’t like biting, how’s this?” He leant upwards, clearly an awkward position, and kissed at Nick’s neck gently, all lips and tongue, teeth carefully avoided. Nick nodded, sighing just a little.
“Yeah,” he breathed, “yeah, that’s - that’s really nice.”
He could feel Tyson’s hands at his hips slowly working his T-shirt up, and squirmed a little to make things easier, belatedly remembering that he was very close to Tyson right now and moving was only going to make it really fucking obvious that he was turned on by their whole impromptu make-out session. It didn’t matter though, since moving made it pretty obvious that Tyson was pretty damn turned on, too.
Tyson just grinned against his neck, before pulling back. “I can’t get your shirt off and kiss you at the same time,” he murmured, sounding ridiculously put out by that fact, and Nick couldn’t quite stifle a giggle.
“What if I don’t want to take my shirt off?” he challenged, and Tyson huffed a laugh.
“Yeah, right,” he grinned, poking Nick in the side, and clearly revelling a little in the squirm it won him.
“Fine.” In a move totally devoid of either finesse or seduction, Nick pulled back, kneeling between Tyson’s legs, and yanked his T-shirt off, grateful for the half-darkness. “That better?”
Tyson pulled him back down again, utterly without shame, shifting to make their position more comfortable, and running one hand down the now-bare skin of Nick’s back. “Eh, not so bad,” he nodded condescendingly, and though Nick rolled his eyes at Tyson’s tone, he couldn’t help but shiver a little at Tyson’s hand on his back. He distracted Tyson from it by leaning in to kiss again at his neck; as it turned out, Tyson was kind of a giant pushover for neck-kissing, since he forewent so much as commenting on it in favour of tilting his head back and shutting his eyes for just a second, before pushing Nick away from him for just long enough to pull him into another kiss.
“One day, we’ll be able to do this with the lights on,” he muttered against Nick’s lips. “Or in the middle of the day.”
Nick thoroughly ruined the kiss by laughing. “Oh yeah, dream big, baby. Also, way to break the mood.”
“We’re teenagers, we don’t need a ‘mood’,” Tyson pointed out, and licked a daring stripe up Nick’s neck which absolutely should have had him shoving Tyson away and wiping at his neck. That instinct warred for a moment with ‘damn, that felt kinda... good’, and feeling good won. Emboldened, Tyson kissed a wet path down Nick’s neck, head tilted awkwardly until he reached the juncture of Nick’s neck and his shoulder. Nick relaxed into it, deciding it felt far, far too good to pull away - just yet.
It was only when the skin where Tyson was kissing - sucking, really - started to tingle that Nick realised maybe relaxing into it was a bad idea. He pulled backwards suddenly, leaving Tyson staring at him, eyes faintly worried again.
“I do something wrong?” he asked. “I was really careful about teeth-”
“Jesus, Ty, did you just give me a hickey!?” Nick hissed, fingers prodding awkwardly at the damp, hot skin Tyson had just been kissing.
Tyson blinked, once. “Um. Maybe?”
“Dammit, Ty, I’mna have to wear T-shirts until this fades, and it’s summer!” Nick wailed, and Tyson hushed him viciously. “Well, fine, how do you like it, then!?” he demanded, swooping in to kiss at Tyson’s documented weak spot, on his neck.
Tyson giggled and struggled and squirmed, putting up a not-entirely-convincing fight, Nick’s hands holding him down, one on his shoulder and one keeping his head firmly (though carefully) in place. Nick’s attempt was both more determined and less gentle than Tyson’s had been, since Tyson was down with the biting, and when he pulled back it was with an unabashedly victorious expression.
“Try hiding that,” he said triumphantly.
Tyson’s breath was coming in pants, but that made him giggle, high and sharp and unexpected, and Nick really couldn’t help but laugh back. “We gotta - be quiet,” Tyson managed, when Nick’s laughter rose above what could really be considered stealthy. “Bailey’ll hear.”
“So?” Nick managed, head tucked into the crook of Tyson’s neck as his shoulders shook with laughter.
“If she doesn’t scream, she’ll come in here asking to be cuddled,” Tyson told him, which just set them both off again. It really wasn’t difficult to work out why Tyson didn’t want to be cuddling his six year old sister right now.
In a last ditch attempt, Tyson reached up to try and silence Nick’s laughter with a kiss - since that was what they always did in his mom’s trashy romance novels - but it really didn’t work. All it did was make the laughter wetter, and that, in turn, just made everything seem funnier. Nick bit his lip and hid his face, half in Tyson’s pillow and half in his neck, and Tyson turned his head, and laughed into Nick’s hair.
When they stopped giggling, the silence which followed it was charged, anticipatory. Tyson shifted again - Nick might not exactly have been hefty, but an eighteen year old boy lying on top of him was more than enough weight to get uncomfortable after a little while - and Nick was suddenly very aware that Tyson was hard underneath him, and that he was hardly much better off. Tentatively, Tyson’s hand moved from Nick’s back to his hip, and Nick shifted himself, kind of revelling in Tyson’s bitten-off gasp as Nick’s movement pressed him more firmly against Tyson’s dick.
“Fu- Nicky,” he gasped, suddenly not having to remember to be quiet. Nick kissed him anyway, mouth sliding over Tyson’s with infinitely more certainty than before. It was still never going to rank up in the top-ten greatest kisses, but if the way Tyson’s hips jerked upwards was any indication, he was pretty into it anyway.
Nick was only human, and he couldn’t help the way he moved against Tyson, desperately trying to gain just a little more friction, kisses turning a little desperate, close-mouthed and clinging. The darkness gave the illusion of total privacy; in the warm, quiet privacy of Tyson’s room, it was easy to forget that anyone else existed, let alone in the same house. One of Tyson’s hands was in Nick’s hair, the other too-hot on his back, and Nick was gasping through the kisses, but that was OK because Tyson was too.
Then Tyson was crying out, sudden and sharp, and Nick was desperately trying to quiet him, kissing him firmly despite that not working before. It worked a little better, since Nick was more focussed now, but Tyson gasped again as Nick moved against him once more, and not in a good way.
“Sorry. Kind of - hurts,” he muttered, and Nick could feel the heat coming off him, inches away as he was. Tyson shifted backwards and away, firmly not looking at Nick, and Nick suddenly realised-
“Oh, god, you came, didn’t you?” He said, and Tyson glared at him.
“Shut up!” he hissed, and Nick would have laughed, but laughter was pretty much the last thing on his mind right now.
“Hey, no, do you even realise how hot that was?”
“Nick, I just came in my pants,” Tyson muttered, but Nick just leant forward and kissed him, chaste but firm.
“Yeah, that’s - really fucking hot,” he repeated. “I can do that to you.”
“I’m sixteen, wallpaper paste can do that to me,” Tyson said, voice low, but he did at least let Nick pull him in again. “So - d’you want any help...?”
Nick smiled. “Not sure we’re there just yet, dude. I’ll just - head into the bathroom, OK?” He really wasn’t sure he could stand a conversation about this when pretty much all he wanted to do was jerk off - or have Tyson help him with it, but he could wait for that. He could.
He pulled back, but Tyson caught his elbow. “Nicky, I - I want to, y’know?”
Nick nodded, and reminded himself that he could wait. “Yeah, but - look, Ty, I really need to get off, OK, and we can have this discussion when I’m not- what - Tyson!”
Tyson had shifted forward onto his knees on the bed, pressed against Nick’s back, and had slid his free hand down to touch tentatively. Nick’s hips moved reflexively, and he sucked in a tiny breath, willing himself to move away or Tyson to do more. Gaining confidence a little, Tyson stroked his hand over Nick’s cock, covered by his boxers, and Nick bit his lip, wishing for both less and more.
“Ty, it’s - we should -”
“I said I wanted to help, didn’t I?” Tyson murmured, tilting his head to kiss at Nick’s shoulder the way he’d worked out Nick liked it, soft and wet and without teeth.
“Yeah, but-”
“Then I want to, it’s OK.” Since he punctuated his point with a particularly well-timed stroke, Nick really wasn’t in any condition to argue the point, and he dropped his head back, letting Tyson ‘help’ however he wanted to.
It took hardly any time at all for Nick to come, and he was far too caught up in the moment to be embarrassed by it - in fact, he was far too caught up in the moment to even realise.
Coming down from his high, he realised his boxers were sticky, and he was still resting against Tyson, who was practically radiating smugness. He ignored it. “That was - awesome,” he said honestly, and Tyson grinned, pressing another kiss to his neck before pulling back.
“I got some pyjama pants you c’n borrow, if you want,” he said, and Nick nodded, because there was no way he was sleeping in these boxers. “I’mna need a pair too, hang on.” He slipped out from behind Nick, walking out the bedroom with admirably unwobbly legs. When he returned a couple of minutes later, it was to find Nick flopped back on the bed, eyes shut. “Hey, wake up,” he whispered, tossing Nick a warm, damp flannel. “Thought you might want to clean up.”
“What about you?” Nick asked, a little latent embarrassment starting to set in, turning away from Tyson to wipe himself off.
“Did it already,” Tyson told him, chucking him a pair of worn flannel pants. “C’mon, you promised me I could sleep in, and I’m going to, now.”
“Is it possible for the romance to die before it even lived?” Nick wondered out loud, and Tyson smacked him gently before grabbing back the flannel.
“I gotta wash this out, be back in a second,” he whispered, and padded back out to the bathroom. When he slid into bed next to Nick a minute later, it took maybe five seconds for Nick to curl up round him - ‘so as to get more comfortable’, though Tyson didn’t buy that for a second, not after the kissing and the orgasms, and the... kissing. Tyson was half-way to dropping off, blissed out and drowsy when he realised he should probably say something. “Hey, Nicky,” he said sleepily, and Nick nodded against his shoulder.
“Hmm?”
“That was awesome.”
“Mmm,” Nick agreed, just as sleepy. As it turned out, that was really all they needed to say.
**
Rating: Light R
Pairing: Nick/Tyson
Warnings: um, teenage boys making out. Which, handily, is also a summary.
Word Count: 3268
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with any of the people mentioned, and everything you read here is a filthy, filthy lie.
Summary: Teenage boys making out; Nick and Tyson are eighteen and sixteen respectively, it's the summer before Nick goes off to college, and the band is kind of nascent right now. But that mostly takes a back seat to the kissing.
(or, since this is apparently the only way I can think about this fic: bb!boyfrenz make-out fic! \0/)
AN: The only way this could be considered a PWP is if the value for 'PWP' was 'Porn without Porn', which would just be silly, so it is a KWP - Kissing Without Plot. (and it's the most kissing I've ever written ever, so, please be kind?) Beta'd by my dearest xrysomou.
I clearly decided that FOB's titles were the Best Thing Ever and decided to mimic them in length; the title is a mash-up (a horrible, horrible mashup) of Cleopatra's line from Antony and Cleopatra, "Now I feed myself with most delicious poison" and AAR's song, 'The Poison'.)
Cross-posted at my personal journal, rejectedfic, bandslashmania and aar_capslock. Apologies for those of you who got spammed!
Tyson was woken, not by the traditional sound of pebbles smacking into glass, but by his phone ringing.
“Whazzit?” He grumbled into the phone, not even bothering to check caller ID - it was bound to be Nick.
“Can you let me in?” Nick asked, and Tyson pulled the phone away from his ear to check the time.
“It’s one in the morning!”
“It’s Saturday tomorrow, you can sleep in. C’mon, Ty, let me in.”
“Can’t you climb through the window? My mom’s asleep,” Tyson complained, but he was already throwing back the covers and padding downstairs to let Nick in.
“Not unless y’want me to break a leg,” Nick returned. “You coming?”
“Yeah,” Tyson nodded, and eased the back door open. Nick grinned at him, thumbing the call off without even looking at his phone.
“Heya,” Nick told him, voice hushed. “How you doin’?” He sounded every bit as cheesy as he’d intended, and Tyson shut the door very carefully behind himself before hugging Nick. Nick’s hands were warm through the thin T-shirt Tyson was wearing, and the summer air was just a little muggy, not quite unpleasant yet, but getting that way. Nick turned his head, breathing against his neck, and after enjoying the hug for one long moment, Tyson pulled back.
“C’mon in,” he said, rather than stand out there all night. “I gotta lock up.”
Nick followed him in docilely, and waited in bated silence whilst Tyson locked the door behind him, tiptoeing up the stairs behind him and waiting for Tyson to shut the door to his bedroom before laughing a little, half under his breath. “Dude, that was awesome.” Tyson only answer was to grin back at him as he slid back into bed, patting the mattress next to him to indicate Nick should get in. Nick raised an eyebrow. “Um. Clothes?”
Tyson apparently couldn’t resist the eyebrow-waggle. At Nick’s Look, he grinned. “What, all I’m saying is, I really wouldn’t mind,” he said, keeping his voice carefully low.
Nick grinned. “My virtue,” he said with mock-horror.
“Wanna take your shoes and jeans off and come tarnish that virtue a bit more?” Tyson asked, shifting over a little in his narrow twin bed.
Nick was already toeing off his shoes and shucking his jeans, leaving him in a T-shirt and boxers, sliding into bed next to Tyson - half on top of Tyson, in fact - almost before he’d finished speaking. “You have the best ideas,” he told him, and Tyson grinned, snaking an arm around Nick and yanking him closer.
It was awkward, with two teenage boys in the bed, but they managed pretty well, since getting up-close and personal with each other was pretty much their sole aim right now. Nick was lying in between Tyson’s legs, sprawled a little awkwardly on top of him, and there was really no point dicking about with finesse or subtlety or whatever, so he leant forward and kissed him. Tyson grinned and kissed back, losing his smile as the kiss went on, Nick keeping things carefully chaste. They had all night, after all, even if Tyson was half-hard right now. (Nick wasn’t throwing stones; he was too.)
When Nick pulled back, Tyson grinned again, lips a little redder than normal. “You couldn’t ask? I’m just not that sort of boy.”
“You’re exactly that sort of boy,” Nick told him, not unreasonably. He bent his head a little and kissed experimentally at Tyson’s neck, which was the kind of thing girls were supposed to go wild over. The couple of times they’d actually had time and privacy to try things like this out, Tyson had seemed to like it, and he tilted his head now to give Nick better access.
“S’nice,” he murmured, and Nick, spurred on, experimented a little, grazing his teeth over the skin he’d just been kissing. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing, but it seemed like it might be fun. “Mm, harder,” Tyson told him, head lolling back against the pillow, and Nick obliged him by almost biting at his neck. “Yeah, that’s fucking nice,” Tyson muttered, and Nick could feel him shifting under him, trying to get a little more control over their position, so he shifted obligingly with him, the bed really too narrow for anything more athletic. (He couldn’t fucking wait until he and Tyson could try things out on a bed which wasn’t meant for one teenage boy rather smaller than Tyson ever would be.)
Tyson tilted his head again and kissed Nick, using his hands to keep Nick in place, kissing him like he couldn’t bear to stop, tonguing at Nick’s bottom lip until Nick opened his mouth against Tyson’s. Both of them were a little too inexperienced for it to feel anything other than wet and a little weird, but what they lacked in experience they made up for with enthusiasm, and Nick swept his tongue over Tyson’s right as Tyson shifted again, an abortive little move which jolted Nick up, sliding his mouth a different way over Tyson’s. He pulled back, a little out of breath.
“You totally practised this, didn’t you?” he whispered, half-accusing, half-laughing.
“Yeah,” Tyson nodded, his grin apparently uncontrollable. “Me and the crook of my elbow got real friendly there for a while.”
Nick grinned, and rested his head for a second on Tyson’s shoulder. “Does that actually work?”
“You tell me,” Tyson said boldly (though Nick could recognise bravado in Tyson from fifty paces, so), and leant awkwardly to the side to kiss him. It only half-worked, but Nick wasn’t about to complain about Tyson’s technique. Or, not much, anyway.
“S’OK,” he whispered as magnanimously as he could, “I’ll let you practise on me.”
“Oh, you’ll let me, will you?” Tyson raised an eyebrow, attempting to look intimidating, though Nick could only barely see it in the gloom of Tyson’s curtained bedroom. Tyson was clearly wishing he could flip them over and gain a little more control over the whole ‘kissing’ thing, but there was absolutely no room for anything so energetic in his tiny twin bed, so he settled for leaning up to kiss Nick’s neck, mimicking Nick’s own movements from mere moments earlier. Nick smiled, letting his eyes fall closed, only for them to snap open when Tyson grazed his teeth over the spot he’d just kissed.
“Dude, ow!” he hissed. “Your teeth are fuckin’ sharp!”
Tyson pulled back, eyes a little wide from what Nick could see in the darkness. “Um, sorry?” he whispered back. “I - I thought, ‘cos I liked it, you would too.”
The sudden shock of pain was almost instantly gone, and Nick was already regretting over-reacting. “Hey, no, I’m sorry,” he returned, “I- didn’t know I didn’t like that.”
“OK,” Tyson nodded, “so, no biting. Putting that one down on my What Not To Do list.” Some of his earlier confidence was returning, if the way he made a check mark in the air behind Nick’s shoulder was anything to go by.
Nick grinned. “But you like it, right?” he whispered, and Tyson nodded, a little shy and a lot anticipatory. “OK then.”
Tyson shifted under him again before he could make a move, though, and whispered a little guiltily, “sorry. My right leg’s starting to go numb.” The look he gave Nick was so chagrined, Nick couldn’t help but laugh a little, and leant forward to kiss him again, revelling a little in the way he could just do this. Maybe he couldn’t shove Tyson up against a locker in school and start making out with him, like Max Hooper, the linebacker, could - well, not unless he wanted to get the shit kicked out of him on the way home - but he and Ty had this instead. And they were gonna be going somewhere after high school, so Max Hooper could keep his PDAs and Nick could keep Tyson.
If he hadn’t been so busy kissing Tyson, he might have taken a moment to feel sorry for the guy.
Tyson eventually pulled back with a gasp, lips wet. After a second, he whispered, “so if you don’t like biting, how’s this?” He leant upwards, clearly an awkward position, and kissed at Nick’s neck gently, all lips and tongue, teeth carefully avoided. Nick nodded, sighing just a little.
“Yeah,” he breathed, “yeah, that’s - that’s really nice.”
He could feel Tyson’s hands at his hips slowly working his T-shirt up, and squirmed a little to make things easier, belatedly remembering that he was very close to Tyson right now and moving was only going to make it really fucking obvious that he was turned on by their whole impromptu make-out session. It didn’t matter though, since moving made it pretty obvious that Tyson was pretty damn turned on, too.
Tyson just grinned against his neck, before pulling back. “I can’t get your shirt off and kiss you at the same time,” he murmured, sounding ridiculously put out by that fact, and Nick couldn’t quite stifle a giggle.
“What if I don’t want to take my shirt off?” he challenged, and Tyson huffed a laugh.
“Yeah, right,” he grinned, poking Nick in the side, and clearly revelling a little in the squirm it won him.
“Fine.” In a move totally devoid of either finesse or seduction, Nick pulled back, kneeling between Tyson’s legs, and yanked his T-shirt off, grateful for the half-darkness. “That better?”
Tyson pulled him back down again, utterly without shame, shifting to make their position more comfortable, and running one hand down the now-bare skin of Nick’s back. “Eh, not so bad,” he nodded condescendingly, and though Nick rolled his eyes at Tyson’s tone, he couldn’t help but shiver a little at Tyson’s hand on his back. He distracted Tyson from it by leaning in to kiss again at his neck; as it turned out, Tyson was kind of a giant pushover for neck-kissing, since he forewent so much as commenting on it in favour of tilting his head back and shutting his eyes for just a second, before pushing Nick away from him for just long enough to pull him into another kiss.
“One day, we’ll be able to do this with the lights on,” he muttered against Nick’s lips. “Or in the middle of the day.”
Nick thoroughly ruined the kiss by laughing. “Oh yeah, dream big, baby. Also, way to break the mood.”
“We’re teenagers, we don’t need a ‘mood’,” Tyson pointed out, and licked a daring stripe up Nick’s neck which absolutely should have had him shoving Tyson away and wiping at his neck. That instinct warred for a moment with ‘damn, that felt kinda... good’, and feeling good won. Emboldened, Tyson kissed a wet path down Nick’s neck, head tilted awkwardly until he reached the juncture of Nick’s neck and his shoulder. Nick relaxed into it, deciding it felt far, far too good to pull away - just yet.
It was only when the skin where Tyson was kissing - sucking, really - started to tingle that Nick realised maybe relaxing into it was a bad idea. He pulled backwards suddenly, leaving Tyson staring at him, eyes faintly worried again.
“I do something wrong?” he asked. “I was really careful about teeth-”
“Jesus, Ty, did you just give me a hickey!?” Nick hissed, fingers prodding awkwardly at the damp, hot skin Tyson had just been kissing.
Tyson blinked, once. “Um. Maybe?”
“Dammit, Ty, I’mna have to wear T-shirts until this fades, and it’s summer!” Nick wailed, and Tyson hushed him viciously. “Well, fine, how do you like it, then!?” he demanded, swooping in to kiss at Tyson’s documented weak spot, on his neck.
Tyson giggled and struggled and squirmed, putting up a not-entirely-convincing fight, Nick’s hands holding him down, one on his shoulder and one keeping his head firmly (though carefully) in place. Nick’s attempt was both more determined and less gentle than Tyson’s had been, since Tyson was down with the biting, and when he pulled back it was with an unabashedly victorious expression.
“Try hiding that,” he said triumphantly.
Tyson’s breath was coming in pants, but that made him giggle, high and sharp and unexpected, and Nick really couldn’t help but laugh back. “We gotta - be quiet,” Tyson managed, when Nick’s laughter rose above what could really be considered stealthy. “Bailey’ll hear.”
“So?” Nick managed, head tucked into the crook of Tyson’s neck as his shoulders shook with laughter.
“If she doesn’t scream, she’ll come in here asking to be cuddled,” Tyson told him, which just set them both off again. It really wasn’t difficult to work out why Tyson didn’t want to be cuddling his six year old sister right now.
In a last ditch attempt, Tyson reached up to try and silence Nick’s laughter with a kiss - since that was what they always did in his mom’s trashy romance novels - but it really didn’t work. All it did was make the laughter wetter, and that, in turn, just made everything seem funnier. Nick bit his lip and hid his face, half in Tyson’s pillow and half in his neck, and Tyson turned his head, and laughed into Nick’s hair.
When they stopped giggling, the silence which followed it was charged, anticipatory. Tyson shifted again - Nick might not exactly have been hefty, but an eighteen year old boy lying on top of him was more than enough weight to get uncomfortable after a little while - and Nick was suddenly very aware that Tyson was hard underneath him, and that he was hardly much better off. Tentatively, Tyson’s hand moved from Nick’s back to his hip, and Nick shifted himself, kind of revelling in Tyson’s bitten-off gasp as Nick’s movement pressed him more firmly against Tyson’s dick.
“Fu- Nicky,” he gasped, suddenly not having to remember to be quiet. Nick kissed him anyway, mouth sliding over Tyson’s with infinitely more certainty than before. It was still never going to rank up in the top-ten greatest kisses, but if the way Tyson’s hips jerked upwards was any indication, he was pretty into it anyway.
Nick was only human, and he couldn’t help the way he moved against Tyson, desperately trying to gain just a little more friction, kisses turning a little desperate, close-mouthed and clinging. The darkness gave the illusion of total privacy; in the warm, quiet privacy of Tyson’s room, it was easy to forget that anyone else existed, let alone in the same house. One of Tyson’s hands was in Nick’s hair, the other too-hot on his back, and Nick was gasping through the kisses, but that was OK because Tyson was too.
Then Tyson was crying out, sudden and sharp, and Nick was desperately trying to quiet him, kissing him firmly despite that not working before. It worked a little better, since Nick was more focussed now, but Tyson gasped again as Nick moved against him once more, and not in a good way.
“Sorry. Kind of - hurts,” he muttered, and Nick could feel the heat coming off him, inches away as he was. Tyson shifted backwards and away, firmly not looking at Nick, and Nick suddenly realised-
“Oh, god, you came, didn’t you?” He said, and Tyson glared at him.
“Shut up!” he hissed, and Nick would have laughed, but laughter was pretty much the last thing on his mind right now.
“Hey, no, do you even realise how hot that was?”
“Nick, I just came in my pants,” Tyson muttered, but Nick just leant forward and kissed him, chaste but firm.
“Yeah, that’s - really fucking hot,” he repeated. “I can do that to you.”
“I’m sixteen, wallpaper paste can do that to me,” Tyson said, voice low, but he did at least let Nick pull him in again. “So - d’you want any help...?”
Nick smiled. “Not sure we’re there just yet, dude. I’ll just - head into the bathroom, OK?” He really wasn’t sure he could stand a conversation about this when pretty much all he wanted to do was jerk off - or have Tyson help him with it, but he could wait for that. He could.
He pulled back, but Tyson caught his elbow. “Nicky, I - I want to, y’know?”
Nick nodded, and reminded himself that he could wait. “Yeah, but - look, Ty, I really need to get off, OK, and we can have this discussion when I’m not- what - Tyson!”
Tyson had shifted forward onto his knees on the bed, pressed against Nick’s back, and had slid his free hand down to touch tentatively. Nick’s hips moved reflexively, and he sucked in a tiny breath, willing himself to move away or Tyson to do more. Gaining confidence a little, Tyson stroked his hand over Nick’s cock, covered by his boxers, and Nick bit his lip, wishing for both less and more.
“Ty, it’s - we should -”
“I said I wanted to help, didn’t I?” Tyson murmured, tilting his head to kiss at Nick’s shoulder the way he’d worked out Nick liked it, soft and wet and without teeth.
“Yeah, but-”
“Then I want to, it’s OK.” Since he punctuated his point with a particularly well-timed stroke, Nick really wasn’t in any condition to argue the point, and he dropped his head back, letting Tyson ‘help’ however he wanted to.
It took hardly any time at all for Nick to come, and he was far too caught up in the moment to be embarrassed by it - in fact, he was far too caught up in the moment to even realise.
Coming down from his high, he realised his boxers were sticky, and he was still resting against Tyson, who was practically radiating smugness. He ignored it. “That was - awesome,” he said honestly, and Tyson grinned, pressing another kiss to his neck before pulling back.
“I got some pyjama pants you c’n borrow, if you want,” he said, and Nick nodded, because there was no way he was sleeping in these boxers. “I’mna need a pair too, hang on.” He slipped out from behind Nick, walking out the bedroom with admirably unwobbly legs. When he returned a couple of minutes later, it was to find Nick flopped back on the bed, eyes shut. “Hey, wake up,” he whispered, tossing Nick a warm, damp flannel. “Thought you might want to clean up.”
“What about you?” Nick asked, a little latent embarrassment starting to set in, turning away from Tyson to wipe himself off.
“Did it already,” Tyson told him, chucking him a pair of worn flannel pants. “C’mon, you promised me I could sleep in, and I’m going to, now.”
“Is it possible for the romance to die before it even lived?” Nick wondered out loud, and Tyson smacked him gently before grabbing back the flannel.
“I gotta wash this out, be back in a second,” he whispered, and padded back out to the bathroom. When he slid into bed next to Nick a minute later, it took maybe five seconds for Nick to curl up round him - ‘so as to get more comfortable’, though Tyson didn’t buy that for a second, not after the kissing and the orgasms, and the... kissing. Tyson was half-way to dropping off, blissed out and drowsy when he realised he should probably say something. “Hey, Nicky,” he said sleepily, and Nick nodded against his shoulder.
“Hmm?”
“That was awesome.”
“Mmm,” Nick agreed, just as sleepy. As it turned out, that was really all they needed to say.
**