(no subject)
Title: Nail You Down
Rating: M
Characters: Nicholas, Deskjob, others
Summary: One last thing needs to be addressed.
Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8.
Epilogue
Stephen rapped his fingertips against the dirty colour of Nicholas’ front door, making dull hollow noises and feeling a throb from the impact settling at the joints within his hand. The music from next door filtered a little more strongly through the thin walls, and sick sunlight fell slowly through the dusty window at the end of the hallway. Stephen was halfway back to the stairwell when the door opened.
Nicholas looked out at him, a single eye and the curve of a cheek visible between the door and its frame, the bold line of a safety chain cutting the image in two. Stephen leant his back against the opposite wall. “Hey,” he said.
Nicholas closed the door, and Stephen heard the sound of the chain being slipped free. “That’s new,” he said, stepping over the threshold.
“Mrs Choong had them installed,” Nicholas replied, leaning the small of his back against his table.
“Right,” Stephen said, setting a shopping bag by his feet. Nicholas stared at it, and then stared at his own feet. “You been okay then?” Stephen asked at last.
“Yeah,” Nicholas replied, lifting a hand to rub at his nose. “Bored, mostly. Had some family stuff.”
“I heard you’ll be back at the station next week.”
“Eight days.”
Stephen nodded. “Right.”
“I mean, good intentions and all.”
“No, I get what you mean,” Stephen said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “And it’s not like the whole place isn’t useless without you.”
The corner of Nicholas’ mouth curled a little, before being pushed back into its usual line. “It is not,” he said.
Stephen shrugged. “Bits of it are.” And the sentence hung between them.
Nicholas shifted awkwardly. “Anyway-”
“I got you something,” Stephen said, nudging the bag by his foot. He passed it to Nicholas, sticking his hands back into his pockets as Nicholas stared at the greenery poking up and into the air.
“It’s a plant.”
“Good spotting, Nick. You should write that in your notebook.” Nicholas gave Stephen a look. “It’s easy enough to look after,” he tried. “Just water, really. And if you can look after a plant, you can look after yourself.”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow at him. “Should that be the other way around?”
Stephen shifted, and cleared his throat. “I had something to ask you,” he said. “It’s a bit self-centred, but-”
“No,” Nicholas said, setting the plant down on the table, sitting next to it, “it’s fine.”
Stephen sat down across from him. “It’s just… my apartment.”
“Your apartment?”
Stephen gave Nicholas a lopsided smile. “I warned you it was self-centred. But, my apartment, I like it and all. But it’s a bit small and the taps leak and things like that. And anyway there’s the one becoming available a few floors up.”
“Right.”
“And it’s nicer, and a bit bigger, and moving there would be easier than lugging my stuff halfway across London, right.”
Nicholas blinked. “It sounds like a good deal,” he said. “You should go for it.”
“Thing is,” Stephen said, staring down at his interlaced fingers, “the rent’s a bit… more. But there’s more room, so I was thinking of getting a roommate.”
“Well, that makes sense,” Nicholas agreed.
Stephen paused, and licked his lips. “And I was also thinking that you could probably do with getting out of this building,” he said, lifting his eyes to Nicholas and locking them both in place.
Nicholas stared back at him. “You’re serious?”
“I am. Two bedrooms.”
“Right.”
“It’s closer to the station.”
“It is.”
“And I’d like to have you there.”
Nicholas frowned. “So you can keep an eye one me?”
And Stephen looked back down at his hands. “No.”
Nicholas looked around his room. “I don’t have much, furniture wise.”
“I was going to suggest that we burn what you do have.” Nicholas kicked at him under the table. “It’s half-furnished anyway. We could take your coffee table, my couch.”
“You’ve been thinking about this.”
“Yeah.”
Nicholas slouched back in his seat, his hands cupped on the table in front of him. “I don’t know.”
Stephen smiled a little wanly. “I figured that.” He reached across the table, his fingertips brushing against Nicholas’. “It could be good.”
Nicholas flexed his fingers, and somehow they were tangled with Stephen’s. He stared at their hands.
“It’s not like there’s a rush, or anything,” Stephen continued. “There’s still a wait before their lease runs out, and I could decide that the extra floor to mop isn’t worth the trouble before then.”
The corner of Nicholas’ mouth quirked again. “You don’t mop.”
“I often intend to.” Which earned Stephen a small smile. “I’ve been intending to drop in on you for a while.”
“Yeah, I got your messages. Just… you know.”
Stephen ran his thumb across the back of Nicholas’ hand. “It’s fine.”
Nicholas pulled his hand away. “And thank you, for the plant,” he said, standing up.
“It’s not a problem,” Stephen replied, following suit. Nicholas stepped past him, towards the door and Stephen turned with him, a hand reaching out and grasping Nicholas’ forearm, pulling him close. “Nicholas,” he said softly.
Nicholas gave him a pained look in return, amplified by the sizzling where their bodies touched. “Steve,” he tried a little weakly. And then they were kissing. Stephen’s mouth, and Nicholas’ teeth. Nicholas running both hands through Stephen’s hair, and Stephen cupping the firmness of a hip in the hollow of his palm. Bodies tight and mouths open and that heavy kitchen table digging into Stephen’s back as he was pressed against it.
It was Nicholas who pulled away.
“Things are hard-. No, wait, things are difficult right now,” he said, his cheeks flushed and his eyes uneasy, and the conflict made Stephen hurt a little.
Stephen gently leaned close, pressing their foreheads together. “They don’t have to be.”
Nicholas hesitated, needing the warm feel of fingers at his lower back before he could sink against Stephen. “I do like your building,” he admitted at last.
“Your’s has its charms too,” Stephen offered.
“Like what?”
“It makes me feel better about living anywhere else.” Nicholas punched Stephen’s hip in response, a reprimand so gentle it hardly counted at all. “We could take the chain on your door,” Stephen offered. “Make the new place feel more like home.”
“It’s not a very good chain,” Nicholas admitted. “Ali broke in the other day to return a cd while I was asleep.”
“See, there’s something wrong with the way you live when people are breaking and entering to give you things rather than steal them,” Stephen said, wrapping his arms around Nicholas’ waist.
“You’re just a jaded old copper,” Nicholas replied, bumping his nose against Stephen’s.
“I’m not old,” Stephen replied, tilting his head so their lips brushed together.
“I’ve lived here a long time,” Nicholas said, his eyes still closed from closeness.
“You’ll just have to say goodbye to it very thoroughly,” Stephen replied.
Nicholas gave Stephen a sly look. “And I suppose you’ll help me with that?”
“Well,” Stephen replied, letting a hand slide slowly under the back of Nicholas’ top, “it’s what a good friend would do.”
Stephen closed his eyes again and let Nicholas kiss him, felt the slide of Nicholas’ tongue across his lower lip, felt the warmth of Nicholas’ back under his hands. Felt the afternoon sunlight shine in on them as Nicholas pressed him back against the table, as it shifted a little under their weight. They peeled shirts off slowly, hands moving with timid dedication and eyelashes lowered over blue eyes. Stephen’s mouth against Nicholas’ neck, tasting the clean tang of chain against skin.
“Something else that’s new,” he said, pulling back hooking a finger under the silver chain and peering at the medallion sitting warmly against Nicholas’ chest. Nicholas gently pushed Stephen’s hand away and pressed parted lips against the curl of fingers. Pressed himself against Stephen, and lips against lips.
Stephen eased himself up, sitting on the edge of the table with Nicholas standing between parted thighs, bare chests pressed together with gentle breaths falling over necks and shoulders. There were the twin thuds of his shoes hitting the floor, and the volume of the music next door increased. Kisses became a little harder, hands pressed a little more firmly. Gentle sighs became desperate gasps, and warm skin became damp with sweat and open-mouthed kisses. Nicholas’ hands on his fly, Stephen’s hands sliding down the back of Nicholas’ pants, and it was still slow, still hot and close and tender.
There was no sound from the apartment above, the absence unnoticed amongst soft moans and hands on skin -
“Wait. Is that a ‘yes’?”
“Stephen,” Nicholas replied absently, licking a stripe up Stephan’s neck, sucking at a pulse under his jaw, “shut up.”
- and a clear, low chuckle before Stephen pulled Nicholas close once more.
End.
If you made it this far, keep an eye out for the next fic in this arc: Backwards, in High Heels.
Rating: M
Characters: Nicholas, Deskjob, others
Summary: One last thing needs to be addressed.
Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8.
Epilogue
Stephen rapped his fingertips against the dirty colour of Nicholas’ front door, making dull hollow noises and feeling a throb from the impact settling at the joints within his hand. The music from next door filtered a little more strongly through the thin walls, and sick sunlight fell slowly through the dusty window at the end of the hallway. Stephen was halfway back to the stairwell when the door opened.
Nicholas looked out at him, a single eye and the curve of a cheek visible between the door and its frame, the bold line of a safety chain cutting the image in two. Stephen leant his back against the opposite wall. “Hey,” he said.
Nicholas closed the door, and Stephen heard the sound of the chain being slipped free. “That’s new,” he said, stepping over the threshold.
“Mrs Choong had them installed,” Nicholas replied, leaning the small of his back against his table.
“Right,” Stephen said, setting a shopping bag by his feet. Nicholas stared at it, and then stared at his own feet. “You been okay then?” Stephen asked at last.
“Yeah,” Nicholas replied, lifting a hand to rub at his nose. “Bored, mostly. Had some family stuff.”
“I heard you’ll be back at the station next week.”
“Eight days.”
Stephen nodded. “Right.”
“I mean, good intentions and all.”
“No, I get what you mean,” Stephen said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “And it’s not like the whole place isn’t useless without you.”
The corner of Nicholas’ mouth curled a little, before being pushed back into its usual line. “It is not,” he said.
Stephen shrugged. “Bits of it are.” And the sentence hung between them.
Nicholas shifted awkwardly. “Anyway-”
“I got you something,” Stephen said, nudging the bag by his foot. He passed it to Nicholas, sticking his hands back into his pockets as Nicholas stared at the greenery poking up and into the air.
“It’s a plant.”
“Good spotting, Nick. You should write that in your notebook.” Nicholas gave Stephen a look. “It’s easy enough to look after,” he tried. “Just water, really. And if you can look after a plant, you can look after yourself.”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow at him. “Should that be the other way around?”
Stephen shifted, and cleared his throat. “I had something to ask you,” he said. “It’s a bit self-centred, but-”
“No,” Nicholas said, setting the plant down on the table, sitting next to it, “it’s fine.”
Stephen sat down across from him. “It’s just… my apartment.”
“Your apartment?”
Stephen gave Nicholas a lopsided smile. “I warned you it was self-centred. But, my apartment, I like it and all. But it’s a bit small and the taps leak and things like that. And anyway there’s the one becoming available a few floors up.”
“Right.”
“And it’s nicer, and a bit bigger, and moving there would be easier than lugging my stuff halfway across London, right.”
Nicholas blinked. “It sounds like a good deal,” he said. “You should go for it.”
“Thing is,” Stephen said, staring down at his interlaced fingers, “the rent’s a bit… more. But there’s more room, so I was thinking of getting a roommate.”
“Well, that makes sense,” Nicholas agreed.
Stephen paused, and licked his lips. “And I was also thinking that you could probably do with getting out of this building,” he said, lifting his eyes to Nicholas and locking them both in place.
Nicholas stared back at him. “You’re serious?”
“I am. Two bedrooms.”
“Right.”
“It’s closer to the station.”
“It is.”
“And I’d like to have you there.”
Nicholas frowned. “So you can keep an eye one me?”
And Stephen looked back down at his hands. “No.”
Nicholas looked around his room. “I don’t have much, furniture wise.”
“I was going to suggest that we burn what you do have.” Nicholas kicked at him under the table. “It’s half-furnished anyway. We could take your coffee table, my couch.”
“You’ve been thinking about this.”
“Yeah.”
Nicholas slouched back in his seat, his hands cupped on the table in front of him. “I don’t know.”
Stephen smiled a little wanly. “I figured that.” He reached across the table, his fingertips brushing against Nicholas’. “It could be good.”
Nicholas flexed his fingers, and somehow they were tangled with Stephen’s. He stared at their hands.
“It’s not like there’s a rush, or anything,” Stephen continued. “There’s still a wait before their lease runs out, and I could decide that the extra floor to mop isn’t worth the trouble before then.”
The corner of Nicholas’ mouth quirked again. “You don’t mop.”
“I often intend to.” Which earned Stephen a small smile. “I’ve been intending to drop in on you for a while.”
“Yeah, I got your messages. Just… you know.”
Stephen ran his thumb across the back of Nicholas’ hand. “It’s fine.”
Nicholas pulled his hand away. “And thank you, for the plant,” he said, standing up.
“It’s not a problem,” Stephen replied, following suit. Nicholas stepped past him, towards the door and Stephen turned with him, a hand reaching out and grasping Nicholas’ forearm, pulling him close. “Nicholas,” he said softly.
Nicholas gave him a pained look in return, amplified by the sizzling where their bodies touched. “Steve,” he tried a little weakly. And then they were kissing. Stephen’s mouth, and Nicholas’ teeth. Nicholas running both hands through Stephen’s hair, and Stephen cupping the firmness of a hip in the hollow of his palm. Bodies tight and mouths open and that heavy kitchen table digging into Stephen’s back as he was pressed against it.
It was Nicholas who pulled away.
“Things are hard-. No, wait, things are difficult right now,” he said, his cheeks flushed and his eyes uneasy, and the conflict made Stephen hurt a little.
Stephen gently leaned close, pressing their foreheads together. “They don’t have to be.”
Nicholas hesitated, needing the warm feel of fingers at his lower back before he could sink against Stephen. “I do like your building,” he admitted at last.
“Your’s has its charms too,” Stephen offered.
“Like what?”
“It makes me feel better about living anywhere else.” Nicholas punched Stephen’s hip in response, a reprimand so gentle it hardly counted at all. “We could take the chain on your door,” Stephen offered. “Make the new place feel more like home.”
“It’s not a very good chain,” Nicholas admitted. “Ali broke in the other day to return a cd while I was asleep.”
“See, there’s something wrong with the way you live when people are breaking and entering to give you things rather than steal them,” Stephen said, wrapping his arms around Nicholas’ waist.
“You’re just a jaded old copper,” Nicholas replied, bumping his nose against Stephen’s.
“I’m not old,” Stephen replied, tilting his head so their lips brushed together.
“I’ve lived here a long time,” Nicholas said, his eyes still closed from closeness.
“You’ll just have to say goodbye to it very thoroughly,” Stephen replied.
Nicholas gave Stephen a sly look. “And I suppose you’ll help me with that?”
“Well,” Stephen replied, letting a hand slide slowly under the back of Nicholas’ top, “it’s what a good friend would do.”
Stephen closed his eyes again and let Nicholas kiss him, felt the slide of Nicholas’ tongue across his lower lip, felt the warmth of Nicholas’ back under his hands. Felt the afternoon sunlight shine in on them as Nicholas pressed him back against the table, as it shifted a little under their weight. They peeled shirts off slowly, hands moving with timid dedication and eyelashes lowered over blue eyes. Stephen’s mouth against Nicholas’ neck, tasting the clean tang of chain against skin.
“Something else that’s new,” he said, pulling back hooking a finger under the silver chain and peering at the medallion sitting warmly against Nicholas’ chest. Nicholas gently pushed Stephen’s hand away and pressed parted lips against the curl of fingers. Pressed himself against Stephen, and lips against lips.
Stephen eased himself up, sitting on the edge of the table with Nicholas standing between parted thighs, bare chests pressed together with gentle breaths falling over necks and shoulders. There were the twin thuds of his shoes hitting the floor, and the volume of the music next door increased. Kisses became a little harder, hands pressed a little more firmly. Gentle sighs became desperate gasps, and warm skin became damp with sweat and open-mouthed kisses. Nicholas’ hands on his fly, Stephen’s hands sliding down the back of Nicholas’ pants, and it was still slow, still hot and close and tender.
There was no sound from the apartment above, the absence unnoticed amongst soft moans and hands on skin -
“Wait. Is that a ‘yes’?”
“Stephen,” Nicholas replied absently, licking a stripe up Stephan’s neck, sucking at a pulse under his jaw, “shut up.”
- and a clear, low chuckle before Stephen pulled Nicholas close once more.
End.
If you made it this far, keep an eye out for the next fic in this arc: Backwards, in High Heels.