Fight (16 page)

Nathan held Fury tightly for a frantic few seconds and then shoved at Fury’s shoulder. Nathan stood and dragged Fury up with him. “Bedroom,” he said between combative kisses. “Lube. Condoms. Fuck me.”

Pushing, turning, dancing, they made it to Nathan’s room and fell onto the mattress. Nathan couldn’t see anything, eyes adjusting in the sudden gloom of the bedroom, but he felt his way down Fury’s body. He licked the underside of Fury’s length and started patting the bed, reaching for the nightstand.

“Ooh…Nate…yeah,” Fury said around hitching breaths. Fury’s thighs tightened against Nathan’s sides. Both of Fury’s hands tangled in Nathan’s hair. Nathan forgot the quest for slick and latex, distracted by the way Fury’s dick throbbed when trapped in the tight ring of Nathan’s lips.

Unbound by the rules of public bathroom affection, the helpless little sounds Fury made when something felt good turned not only into moans but also into murmured bits of praise and request. At first, Nathan couldn’t quite make out what Fury said, so he slowed down. Fury’s fingers dug into Nathan’s scalp, and the words got clearer, though they were rushed and pitched lower than Nathan thought even Fury’s baritone rasp could go. “Oh God, yeah, suck my dick…but…oh, faster?
Nngh
…more. Need more of—oh.” Fury’s hips kept Nathan’s pace. “Yeah…yeah…
yeah
…”

Nathan’s brain was a mess of white noise and the constant, consuming, keening drive to keep Fury fucking talking.

“Lick my balls,” Fury muttered, and Nathan teased one heavy nut with the flat of his tongue. Fury moaned, one hand squeezing Nathan’s arm and the other Nathan’s hair. “Back up to the head…
oh
…just under the…yeah… Ooh, fuck, look at me.” Nathan’s eyes rolled to meet Fury’s, and it took ages to get Fury into something resembling focus. “Teeth…” Fury commanded. “Take me all in and drag teeth on the way to the head.”

Nathan shuddered, full-bodied, and angled so he could swallow Fury to the root. He choked, then got control of the craving for air. Fury’s wail of delight fed a need so deeply seated in Nathan that he couldn’t identify it, only obey it, and he set the edges of his teeth to Fury’s skin and slowly slid to the crown.

“Fuck,” Fury commented after the third creeping climb, the single word a thready whisper. “
Mmgh
… Kiss me.” Fury manhandled Nathan up and into an embrace. They rocked together again, hands going everywhere, and whose moan was whose, Nathan had no idea.

“Inside you,” Fury said around Nathan’s lower lip. “Need to fuck you till we come.”

In a blur, Nathan got supplies and got them back to Fury. Rip, cover, spill, and slick, and Fury rolled them on the bed. “Wanna watch you while I fuck you.” Fury hooked one of Nathan’s legs over his arm and set himself to Nathan’s entrance. Nathan stared down his body, willing them to join, and tore his gaze away only when Fury kissed Nathan, soft and tender. Nathan felt strangely as though he was drowning. The bed beneath his back was sinking, making a wide, padded tunnel, and Nathan was falling into it, and Fury was following.

Pushing, stretching, entering, and they breathed each other’s air as Fury worked to gain depth. “Oooh…” Nathan panted.

“Open up for me,” Fury whispered, and Nathan scrambled for purchase on Fury, the mattress, anywhere he could reach.

“That’s it…open up…yeah…” Over and over Fury encouraged, carefully thrusting, moving, urging. “C’mon… oooh… good, that’s…” The words dissolved, and Nathan crazily thought two things: that it was good Fury wasn’t a man of many words most of the time, as Nathan would never get anything but Fury done, and that at some point, what they were doing had ceased to be fucking and had become something else. Something Nathan couldn’t quite name without wanting to squirm away from it, even with it face-to-face, chest-to-chest, and sweetly splitting him in two.

A harder plunge shoved the shredded thoughts out of Nathan’s mind, and the force of it drove a cry from Nathan’s lungs.

Fury paused. “Okay?” he asked, breathless.

“Yeah.” Nathan nodded, Fury kissed him, and then Fury shattered any sense Nathan had left with long thrusts that bowed Nathan’s body and narrowed the meaning of his existence to,
Must. Get. Off. Right. Now.

“Oh…my…
Christ
!” Nathan got a hand down and around himself, stroking in sync to Fury, and he was lost to kisses, bites, and shared groans of gathering need.

“You feel so damn good,” Fury panted.

Fury’s rhythm got impossibly faster, and Nathan bucked. “
Nnn, ahn
, need… need to come…”

No sooner had Nathan spoken the words than Fury had pulled out, put Nathan on his stomach, and slid home. So full, so spread, and Nathan bellowed into the bed when Fury started to move again, the sound of flesh pounding flesh roaring in Nathan’s ears.

“So fucking sexy.” Fury’s palm slapped a grip on Nathan’s hip. “Like it deep?” Fury’s voice was a gravelly drone, and he shoved sounds out of Nathan that Nathan had never thought possible to make.

“Shit yes.” Nathan rolled his ass into Fury’s groin, taking everything Fury had. “Oh my fucking God,
yes
!” Nathan clawed at the covers and thought he’d die of a heart attack or just pass out before he got off. On and on it went, until Nathan was soaked in sweat and knew he was begging, knew he was grappling at Fury’s hip, leg, hair, shoulder, anything Nathan could reach back and get to, and then the world shifted one last time.

“Nathan,” Fury whispered above Nathan’s dry lips, and he buried himself again in Nathan, filling the void he’d carved. Nathan was twisted, half on one side beneath Fury so he could look up and watch Fury work him. Nathan scrabbled for his dick, but Fury leaned closer and was already there, stroking Nathan, taking him, fucking him, making love to him, and Nathan felt the oncoming orgasm like a sonic boom at the base of his spine. He shook, tensed, hung suspended in Purgatory for an age counted in a handful of heartbeats, and came with stars streaking along the edges of his vision. He wasn’t sure if he made no sound or all sounds, but his thighs spasmed with the force of it, his lips went numb, and the only thing that brought Nathan back to earth was the sound of Fury groaning above him.

“Coming,” Fury gasped, jarring Nathan with ramming thrusts that made Nathan whimper. “
Mmmf
… Oh, shiii—
oh
!” Fury faltered, one elbow giving out, and Nathan grabbed him, wrestled him through the last tremors, and didn’t let go, even when they were done. Fury rested on a forearm, head bowed to Nathan’s shoulder, and it wasn’t until Fury began to soften inside Nathan that he swallowed on a parched throat and shifted. Fury gripped himself, kissed Nathan, and pulled out. Without a word, he fumbled off of the bed, and a second later, the light came on in the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. Fury returned with a towel and flopped next to Nathan.

“You got anywhere to be?” Nathan asked, wiping down and hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he really was for Fury to stay.

Fury shook his head, letting it fall to one side, cheek to pillow. He smiled at Nathan. “Do you?”

“I am where I need to be,” Nathan said, meaning his own apartment, but a spark of panic went off when he realized it sounded like he meant here with Fury.

As usual, though, Fury took Nathan’s accidental truths in stride. “Okay,” he said, stretching. “Got to go get a bag out of the truck.” He pushed himself upright, and Nathan stared at Fury’s ass until Fury disappeared into the living room and, after a moment, the front door opened and shut.

Nathan floated, and he was dozing when Fury returned. Nathan lay sprawled on the rumpled blankets, and he listened to the heavy thuds of Fury’s footsteps. He got up enough gumption to turn down the comforter and sheets and get his head on a pillow, waited, one eye on the door.

Fury came in carrying a duffel bag. He put it down, paused, and faced the door. He gnawed on his lip just long enough that Nathan was about to ask what the problem was, but Fury scowled and muttered, “Be back.”

Nathan propped himself up on his elbows, and he heard banging coming from the other room. After a moment, Fury returned carrying, of all things, a chair from Nathan’s dining table. Fury sheepishly glanced in Nathan’s general direction, and his eyebrows furrowed in some combination of anger and willpower. Nathan kept his mouth shut and watched Fury close the bedroom door and shove the chair under the knob. Fury tested it, adjusting, and turned to Nathan.

“I got a thing,” Fury grumbled after a couple seconds.

Several replies came to Nathan, but he was tired and content and only one response would get Fury back in bed. He shrugged. “Okay.”

Fury’s shoulders slumped, and he dropped the bag to the floor. He toed out of his shoes, stripped, pulled the bathroom door almost shut until a narrow sliver of light escaped, and climbed next to Nathan. He covered himself with the sheet, and Nathan started to settle, but Fury didn’t give Nathan the chance. Fury pulled Nathan against him, tucking Nathan’s head under his chin. The last thing Nathan remembered was the faint brush of Fury’s lips to his forehead.

Chapter Seven

Nathan snapped awake and flailed to untangle himself from the blankets so he could see the alarm clock. It was two a.m., and he had no idea why, but something felt wrong. Nauseatingly wrong. Want-to-drink-for-a-week wrong. He sat up and blinked at the empty space next to him.

His ass throbbed with a dull ache, and he had scrambled to his knees and was well on his way to launching himself into a full-on search party by the time he spotted Fury’s bag still on the floor, unzipped and mussed, as though someone had gone digging through it.

Nathan sank onto his heels in relief, mentally chastising himself. If the man had left in the middle of the night, it would have been his prerogative. Nathan would have survived. There was no call for all the damned anguish at the thought. Nathan rolled his eyes at himself and noticed that the bedroom door was shut and that the dining chair was now sitting in front of the dresser. The living room light was on, the bathroom light off, so Nathan figured there was nothing to do but to go find out why Fury was awake and out of bed.

After yanking on a pair of shorts, Nathan padded into the living room. Fury reclined on the sofa in sweatpants, the lamp on the table behind him on to illuminate his page. He rested his book open on his chest when Nathan appeared. “Hey,” Fury said. “Wake you?”

“Naw.” Nathan came around the end of the couch, Fury made room, and Nathan sat next to Fury’s legs. “What are you reading?”

Fury inspected the cover. “
The Hobbit
.” Found it on your shelves.”

“You read it before?” Nathan swatted at Fury’s shins, and Fury bent his knees so Nathan could lean back. Nathan pulled Fury’s feet in his lap.

Fury shook his head. “Don’t read much. I go too slow. I like it, though.”

“Reading or the book?” Nathan teased.

“Yeah.”

Nathan rubbed absently at Fury’s ankle. “You can borrow that one.”

“Thanks.” Fury sighed, eyelashes lowering.

Nathan couldn’t seem to stop touching Fury. He memorized the smoothness of soft, thin skin and the texture of Fury’s dark curls. “Why’re you awake?”

“I don’t sleep much. Not at night, anyway.”

“That have something to do with the chair thing?” Nathan asked, glancing at the front door and noticing that there was another chair under that knob.

The muscles under Nathan’s palms rippled with tension. “Yeah,” Fury admitted.

Nathan stroked the arch of Fury’s foot, firmly so it wouldn’t be ticklish, though Fury didn’t appear to have that problem. “You’ve caught me talking to druggies and arguing with my fake fiancée.” Nathan shook his head. “Put chairs under whatever you need to put them under. Just warn me if it’s going to be my ass or something, all right?”

Fury flashed a boyish grin. “Got other ideas for your ass.”

“You already made good on those.”

“I only get one round?”

“Hell, no. You get as many as you…” Nathan trailed off, lost in Fury’s soul gaze. Nathan looked away, chewed his lower lip, and occupied himself with Fury’s big toe. “Been meaning to ask, what do the tattoos mean?”

After one of Fury’s patented moments of silence, he let his arm drape across his body so Nathan could see more of the tattoo sleeve. “You can’t get away from the jungle.”

“Yeah?” Nathan prompted.

Fury nodded. “Always wanted out of here when I was a kid. As far away as I could get, and I used to think there was this jungle somewhere, Africa or Asia or whatever, and someday I’d go and get lost in it. Leave everything behind.” Nathan studied the rich leaves and tree trunks and hidden creatures in Fury’s ink. Fury slowly rotated his arm until the black cat peered at Nathan. “Now I know the whole world’s a jungle. Sometimes you hide. Sometimes you fight. But it’s always out there.”

Nathan hummed. “Know how that goes, I think.”

Fury nodded. “You do.”

The confidence Fury had in Nathan made Nathan blush. He’d not been this frequently red in the face since middle school when his boy crush had decided to be his friend, and Nathan had spent too much time trying not to think about kissing Joseph Blankenbeckler. “What about the tattoo on your hip? The water guy?”

There was a longer silence this time, but Fury filled the void by reaching down and pushing aside his pants to expose the kneeling man and the jug. Fury stroked the skin lovingly, and Nathan’s breath quickened and groin tightened as though Fury had just petted him.

“It’s the symbol for Aquarius,” Fury said. “We’re both that sign.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Me and my sister.”

Nathan tried to imagine a female Fury, and it went poorly for the girl. “You twins?”

Fury shook his head. “No, just born at the same time of year. She’s almost two years older.” He frowned.

“What is it?” Nathan asked, his thumb kneading its way up Fury’s lower leg.

“Just thinking,” Fury said, and while he deliberated, Nathan kept massaging, in love with the fact that Fury didn’t seem to mind.

Fury set the book aside on the coffee table. “She’s older, but I took care of her for a while after some bad shit went down. That’s how I ended up knocking off the liquor store. Needed money.”