Laying a Ghost (14 page)

A little uncertain if John was genuinely upset, Nick got up and started to undress. The long sleeved T-shirt he’d put on earlier was first to go, baring his chest in the cool room and more than aware of John’s eyes on him. “I’ve only slept here one night.” He undid his pants and shoved them down over his hips almost defiantly. “I don’t have a side yet.” Nick kicked his feet free of his pants and moved over to the bed, getting in next to John and resting a hand on John’s chest. “And I don’t want you to sleep on the couch.”

“Then will you just come here and --
God --
” John gave up talking with a despairing look that was almost comical -- and since Nick was still finding it hard to tell when John was serious or not, that might’ve been intentional -- and pulled Nick down on top of him, kissing him with an intensity that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, his hands skimming down Nick’s back to his ass with an impatience that didn’t stop them from feeling good.

Then he did it again, more slowly, dragging his nails from Nick’s shoulders down, never taking his eyes off Nick’s face. “Now you look like you did in the kitchen. As if you’re thinking of what you want to do with me and nothing else. And if you knew what you looked like right now, you’d know why I’m always going to say yes to you.”

Nick shuddered, his cock getting harder against John’s thigh as he leaned down to kiss him. He meant to say something; to reassure John that he really
did
want him, to apologize for being so fucked up. But as soon as their lips touched, Nick was lost in the kiss, in the taste of John’s mouth and the feel of his body. “God,” he whispered, throwing himself into the next kiss, and then the next. He shifted, taking some of his weight onto his arms, and dragged his cock up along John’s.

John’s head moved restlessly on the pillow, matching his hands which were roving over Nick’s body in eager, almost hungry sweeps. In the dimness of the room, lit only by the last traces of the daylight that lingered at this time of the year, he was a shadowy figure, indistinct as the ghosts. For a single wild moment, Nick wondered if he was; a ghost conjured up from his loneliness and guilt-tinged grief. Then John’s teeth dug into his shoulder as their cocks nudged again and the sharp, sweet pain drew him back to the present.

“John.” It was a barely more than a groan, but if he’d been a religious man at all he might have called it a prayer. They rocked together slowly, their breathing uneven, John’s mouth licking and biting at the skin of Nick’s collarbone and throat before finding his lips again.

Nick couldn’t remember ever being so hard. Well, maybe years before, when he’d been sixteen and he and Matthew had first discovered sex. But their innocent fumbling hadn’t been anything like
this.
This was heat -- despite the fact that he was shivering -- and painful desire, the coming together of two bodies that knew the kinds of pleasure they were capable of and sought to find it with each other. He could feel the head of his cock painting a damp trail the length of John’s shaft with each stuttered upward drag, and he let out a little, startled moan when John’s tongue flickered over his again.

“Will you lie back?” John whispered against his lips. “Let me take you in my mouth, let me fuck you?”

Nick’s erection throbbed painfully and he whimpered against John’s lips, kissing him three, four times more before he could answer. “Yes.”

John rolled them over so that Nick was the one underneath, John’s delicious weight bearing down on him, solid and warm. Any lingering shivers died away when John kissed him, fingers rubbing over his nipple and making him gasp into John’s mouth.

He felt John’s leg slide between his and nudge them apart, the shift in position alone enough to make his breath quicken. John met his eyes and smiled at him before taking Nick’s hand in his and bringing it to his mouth, separating out Nick’s middle finger and capturing it between his thumb and finger, running them along it slowly before taking it into his mouth as he’d done earlier.

Nick’s hips jerked instinctively, his cock feeling the echo of each teasing lick, bite and suck, and John’s eyes closed for a moment in response, letting Nick’s finger slip free as he rubbed against Nick, groaning softly.

“God, you’re so --” The bed heaved beneath Nick as John rose up to kneel between his legs, the covers sliding off his back. “-- distracting,” John finished, grinning down at him. “But I’m a single-minded man.”

He moved back a little and then put his hands on either side of Nick’s hips and leaned forward, so that the only point of contact between them was John’s tongue as he dragged it slowly up Nick’s cock, doing that half a dozen times before finally bringing his hand across to hold it.

The warm circle of John’s fingers was tight around the base of his cock, and John’s mouth was just as tight around the tip, sucking hard for a moment before opening his mouth wider to take Nick inside.

Nick’s breathing, already quicker than normal, sped up even more as John’s lips, hot and wet and perfect, slid down his shaft. He wanted to stay still, but he couldn’t
not
push up into that slick heat. He tangled a hand in John’s short hair, which was soft under his palm, and threw his head back as John sucked at him. “God, John. Oh fuck that’s good.”

He trembled and licked his own lips, which were suddenly dry. His chest felt tight with arousal, his skin tingling.

John lifted his head and stared up at him, his eyes glazed over. He brought his hand up, smoothing it over the spit-wet skin of Nick’s cock, never taking his eyes off Nick’s face, working his cock with slow, forceful jerks of his wrist that left Nick on the edge of coming.

Nick bit down hard on his lip, his fingers tightening around a fistful of John’s hair, any words, even “please,” lost in the need for John to go back to what he’d been doing.

John’s head dipped suddenly and Nick cried out as the firm pressure of John’s hand disappeared, replaced by the soft, fluid wrap of his mouth, with John’s tongue sensuous and hot against him.

“John ... oh God ...” Nick panted, writhing every part of his body but the part he most wanted to move, desperately on the edge of coming and trying to hold off because he wasn’t sure what John wanted. He grabbed onto a handful of blanket and tried to concentrate on the rough scratch of the wool. “John. I can’t --”

John shifted slightly, without ever stopping what his tongue and teeth were doing, and slipped his hands under Nick’s ass, wordlessly encouraging him to move, to push up into the warm haven of John’s mouth.

His hips thrust up once, twice, three times, each shove accompanied by a low, breathy cry, and Nick came, gasping John’s name and tipping his head back so that the air rasped in his throat. He could feel, dimly, John’s mouth encouraging him, but that sensation was faint compared to what his own body was doing, which apparently was attempting to turn itself inside out through his cock in a glorious flare of ecstasy.

John’s mouth tightened on him as he swallowed, triggering a final surge, and then Nick fell back, his eyes closed, dizzy with pleasure, and so utterly spent that when John’s mouth left him, with a slow, gentle drag of his tongue across exhausted flesh as a grace note, he couldn’t even whimper.

The bed shifted and John came to lie beside him, his arm a comforting weight across Nick’s chest, his body snuggled up against him. John kissed Nick’s shoulder, making a small, appreciative sound but not seeming in any rush to talk.

He focused on breathing for a minute or so, wondering if John could feel the fierce pounding of his heart. He reached down and found John’s hand with his own, bringing it up to rest on his chest. “Feel that?”

“Mm.” John’s mouth was against Nick’s shoulder. There was a questioning sound to it.

“That’s because of you.” Nick turned his head and smiled at John, then shifted onto his side and curled his hand around John’s cock, making him groan softly.

“And that’s because of you.” John nuzzled into Nick’s neck. “Although the way I felt when you came, I’m surprised it’s still in that state.” He lifted his head and smiled at Nick wonderingly. “You don’t hold back at all, you know that? It’s all there on your face, and the way you move, those sounds you make -- Christ, I could come just from listening to you.”

“As long as I’m not pronouncing stuff wrong,” Nick teased gently. He moved his hand, stroking John’s cock and watching as his eyes closed and his lips parted. “I’d say I’m hoping you still want to fuck me, but I don’t have anything. No condoms, nothing. I wasn’t exactly thinking I was going to need them out here.”

John tensed up; not much, but enough that Nick couldn’t miss it given how close they were, and then relaxed. “I’m thinking you weren’t a Boy Scout then? Or do they not have them in
America
?”

“They do, but I wasn’t.” Nick had never been anywhere for long enough to join anything like that.

“Well, neither was I, but I’ve still got a couple of condoms in the back pocket of my jeans.” John shrugged. “Wouldn’t matter if anyone found them, after all. But lube, no, I’d never buy that here, or keep any around.” He smiled a little sourly. “What would any decent man be wanting it for anyway? But it doesn’t matter --” His hand came down over Nick’s and squeezed it briefly so that Nick’s fingers tightened around John’s cock. “Not when you’re touching me like this.”

Part of Nick wanted to insist that they go in search of something -- maybe there was some lotion in the bathroom, for instance -- but he was comfortable and warm and he didn’t really want to get out of bed, not even if it meant being able to feel John’s cock pushing its way inside him. So he kissed John, just once more, and then slid down underneath the covers. “I think we can make do for now.” He licked John’s balls and felt them tighten. “As long as we can get some in the next couple of days. Because I don’t want to have to wait much longer than that for you to fuck me.”

John groaned.

Closing his eyes, Nick started a slow stroking of John’s cock with his hand from just below the head all the way down to the base of the shaft. He took just the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue around to wet it, and then sucked hard. There was nothing teasing about this. He didn’t want to draw it out or to make John wait. He wanted to bring John off in his mouth, to taste him, to hear him cry out with pleasure and know that he’d been the cause of it.

He felt John’s hand on his head, lightly at first and then, as he took John deeper, John’s fingers clenched, drawing Nick’s hair into his grasp before they relaxed. “Oh God.” John’s hips jerked forward helplessly. “Oh, yes ...
God
.”

Nick felt the tip of John’s cock nudge the back of his throat and eased back just a little, lapping at the slick head eagerly when he could, breathing in a scent that aroused him more than he’d expected, even if, right then, he wasn’t capable of a physical response.

But it lent an urgency to what he was doing, and for all that his body was still tingling from coming hard enough that he’d practically forgotten how to breathe, he needed John’s release as much as he’d needed his own.

He wasn’t sure what he did that sent John over, but there was a moment of stillness as John froze, his cock deep in Nick’s mouth, and then John gasped, “Nick --” in an anguished sob and came, his cock hardening and then pulsing against Nick’s tongue, his hand dropping to Nick’s shoulder and gripping it tightly.

Nick pulled back enough so that he could get more than a hint of the taste of it, swallowing and sucking again, but more gently now as John shuddered and gasped his way to a release that seemed all too brief to Nick. He waited until John relaxed all at once, sagging down into the mattress, to let go of his cock and move up to kiss him. That was brief, too, since John was still trying to get his breath back and Nick could sympathize with how that felt. He stroked his hand along John’s side and back, memorizing how skin lay over firm muscle, marveling at how different John felt from what he was used to.

After a moment John’s hand began to move too, tracing down the line of Nick’s spine and back up, his fingernails dragging languidly over Nick’s skin and finding places Nick hadn’t realized needed scratching. Nick arched his back so that John’s fingers could reach a spot just below his shoulder blade and made a contented sound.

“Aye, that’s about how I feel,” John murmured.

Nick smiled. There was something about John’s voice, his accent, that was comforting, and Nick didn’t think it was just that it reminded him of how his mother had sounded when he was small -- her accent had faded after years in the States until, by the time she’d gotten sick, it was barely noticeable. Maybe it was something specific about John, or maybe that was just a romantic fantasy. “God, I’m tired.”

“Then go to sleep.” John paused and added thoughtfully, “Well, you’ll maybe want to brush your teeth first ...”

“If you don’t like my breath you can bite me,” Nick grumbled good-naturedly, closing his eyes. He was bone tired and could tell that he’d be asleep in minutes if nothing stopped him, so he rolled over and pulled John’s arm around his waist. “Wake me up if you need anything.”

He thought he heard John say something in reply, but the words got muddled in his head, and it didn’t really matter because John’s arm didn’t move away, and with that solid warmth behind him, Nick sighed and went from awake to asleep in the middle of it.

Chapter Seven

For all that he’d been tired himself, John had ended up going to bed earlier than usual, and that, combined with the fact that he was in a strange bed, meant that he was sleeping lightly. He and Nick had rolled apart at some point, shifting positions in their sleep, so that when John woke fully he was facing away from the center of the bed. It took him a little while to realize that the bed was empty and to backtrack his memories to the sound of the door creaking open which must have been what woke him.

Rolling over to his side, he waited for Nick to come back from the bathroom, not awake enough to be thinking about more than snuggling up to him, but looking forward to that all the same because it wasn’t something he got the chance to do often -- ever -- and Nick fitted against his body like a cat, boneless and warm.