Nothing but Smoke (Fire and Rain) (6 page)

He rushed to change it to a radio station, but a couple guys near the edge of the water had turned to look their direction.

Teeth pressed tight together, Nicky forced himself not to duck. He didn’t know these guys, would never see them again. And Michael had seemed so disgusted the last time Nicky had flinched around strangers.

“Sorry about that. This is my mom’s car.” Nicky reached to eject the CD.

“No worries.” Michael smirked but didn’t say anything as Nicky pulled out of the lot and headed over Capitol Hill.

Chapter Five

“Are you sure you’re okay to be driving?” Michael hung on the handhold, feigning calm when Nicky once again rode up on the curb. The Town Car was built for wide suburban highways, not the crisscross of tiny streets in the city. It definitely wasn’t built for the cramped traffic circles that had Michael certain Nicky would clip someone’s mirror the next time he took a left. “Maybe you want to get on John. That’s a straight shot if you’re heading to MLK.”

“I’m aiming for 23
^rd
Street.” Nicky kept his eyes on the road, his careful determination both sexy and sweet.

“Okay, but I’m not sure you can take a left from this street.” Michael’s fingers twitched, and when they came to another tight roundabout, he kicked at the spot where the brake would be.

“Oh shit, really?” Nicky rubbed the back of his neck. “Crap, I’ll head to Seward Park, then, instead of Magnuson.”

The skin between Nicky’s collar and hair was a shade darker than the rest of him, like he’d somehow gotten sunburnt just there. Michael was drawn to that strip of skin. He wanted to taste to see if it was still warm. “Seward is a better call anyway. You never know if the University Bridge will be up.”

“God, you’re right.” Nicky shook his head, the move making his curls dance around his ear.

The hair there looked soft, like Michael could twist it around his fingers while he kissed his way down Nicky’s shoulder.

“So, what station do you want to listen to?” Nicky fiddled with the dial, clicking from one mass-produced song to the next.

“I liked what you had on before.” Michael wasn’t a fan of pop. Other than the occasional world music album that caught his attention, he normally listened to stuff from before the train wreck that was the 1990s.

“Really?” Nicky looked across the spacious front seat.

“Why not? It matches the vibe of the car.”

“True.” Nicky pulled into the long, empty driveway of Seward Park. The green space stretched around the south end of Lake Washington—many times the size Volunteer Park had been—and the parking area was only dotted with a few cars.

“So…” Nicky stopped the engine. “You want to, um…?” Nicky tugged at the front of his jean shorts, his gaze zeroed in on Michael’s lap.

Some rebellious part of Michael’s mind told him it wasn’t fair to accept sexual favors from a guy who’d been in a motorcycle accident, no matter how mild, but that part sounded an awful lot like his mother. Having Nicky at his disposal made blood rush to Michael’s dick, made his hiking shorts tighten around his hips.

“Yeah.” Michael rubbed a hand over his bulge, struggling not to close his eyes and miss Nicky’s nostrils flare with excitement. “You wanna move to the backseat?”

“Oh, um…” Nicky twisted to look behind them. “I guess.”

They clamored out of the front and into the spacious backseat where Michael pulled Nicky into a kiss. He tasted like toothpaste and stubble and sunny days filled with oldies stations. His lips moved softly, as if he’d memorized the way Michael kissed and was falling back into the pattern.

When he pulled away, Nicky was breathless. “Okay.” He landed a hand on Michael’s lap, and his fingers probed to find the zipper. He bit his bottom lip, pink disappearing behind a crooked tooth, and if they weren’t in a car, Michael would have ripped off every last shred of Nicky’s clothes.

Lifting his hips, Michael helped the process. Luckily, Nicky covered Michael with a strong hand right away so Michael didn’t have to suffer the indignity of being the only guy with his cock out in the backseat of a car.

“You should jerk off while you do it.” Michael rubbed Nicky’s back, urging his face down. He had no idea whether Nicky could manage while leaning across the seat, but Michael wanted to see Nicky’s hand flashing, feel how close Nicky was to orgasm in the tightness of his lips.

“Okay.” Nicky kissed a path over Michael’s T-shirt. He lifted it at the bottom so he could kiss Michael’s belly. When Nicky took the tip in his mouth, his lips were warm and wet. He felt his way around, tongue sliding.

Michael should have demanded Nicky give him more, but curiosity got the better of him. “So, what do you think?” He had no way to know if this was Nicky’s first time giving a blowjob, but he would have bet a semester’s tuition that Nicky hadn’t done this before.

The only answer he got was Nicky whimpering as he moved lower, getting the top half into his mouth. This time, Michael couldn’t resist the urge to tangle his hands through Nicky’s hair. “You don’t mind if I do this, right?”

Not everyone liked their head touched when they sucked a guy off.

Nicky looked up, eyes wide and pink lips damp. “Nah.” His expression was lost, maybe even frightened. “I kind of like it.”

Nothing Michael could do could stop him from grabbing Nicky’s jaw right then, pulling him up and kissing that worry off his lips. Michael’s heart thundered as he worked his tongue slowly inside.

Michael would pay for it tomorrow, and maybe the day after that, if he let himself get drawn in to Nicky emotionally. But for that night at least, Michael wanted to flick that switch, give in to that urge to kiss Nicky and hold him, maybe even mumble some crap he’d regret in the morning.

He didn’t have any illusions—this was nothing more than a casual hook-up—but in that moment Nicky felt so perfect Michael decided to pretend.

“Oh God.” Nicky pulled off, gasping. His gaze scanned everywhere. Over Michael’s body, to the dick sticking out of Michael’s pants, studying the features of Michael’s face like he’d memorize the lines.

Michael did it right back. He shoved his hands up under Nicky’s shirt, for the first time giving in to the temptation of those muscles. Palming the thick pecs, he gave both nipples a pass with his thumbs.

The skin under his fingers was taut, soft over muscle that felt like a solid, impenetrable wall. Ridges led across in all directions, cracks in armor.

When he reached for Nicky’s fly, Nicky pushed his hands away. “No.” Nicky bent to get back on Michael’s cock. When his face was low enough for Michael to feel his breath, Nicky whispered, “I want to do it.”

Then his mouth closed over Michael, fast and deep. Not to the bottom, but close enough that Michael couldn’t help but grip handfuls of Nicky’s hair to make sure Nicky didn’t steal away that pressure.

Michael leaned back in his seat, body arching on reflex. Nicky’s fingers worked into Michael’s pants, cupping and cradling his sac, and though Nicky’s desperate bobs wouldn’t win any awards for finesse, they were enthusiastic enough to have Michael throbbing.

“You don’t have to swallow.” Michael’s thighs tensed. He held back, not wanting to end it too quickly but knowing that he couldn’t fight long.

With a desperate whimper, Nicky manipulated a hand between his legs, and though there was no way he could manage to jerk off in the position he was in, Michael could tell by his fitful twisting that Nicky was close too.

“Yeah… Fuck…” Then there was nothing but tight wetness and a sweet sense of connection as Michael rode to the crest of his orgasm.

The swell of it threw him back against the seat, legs shaking and discs of light spinning in his vision. He heard Nicky’s moans, felt him struggling to keep sucking even though Michael could feel come dripping down his cock.

Nicky laid his face on Michael’s thigh. Michael’s hand was still in Nicky’s hair, and Michael massaged, saying
thank you
with his fingertips since he wouldn’t have known how to with words.

“Damn.” Nicky lifted off, wiping his face. Between his frown and the quick swipes of his hand, he seemed upset.

Angry? Michael didn’t think so. Or if Nicky was angry, it was only at himself.

“Need a wet wipe?” Maybe Michael should ask if Nicky was okay with what they’d done, but he couldn’t imagine how to broach the subject. Worse, Michael suspected he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Sure.” Nicky accepted the packet Michael held out, pulling out an ammonia-scented towelette. Once he’d cleaned his face, he leaned back in his seat to check out the damage to the front of his pants.

“It’s not obvious,” Michael said by way of reassurance. A wet stain was spreading on the front of Nicky’s underwear, but he hadn’t gotten anything on his shorts.

“Yeah, right.” There was a rueful pain in Nicky’s eyes that got under Michael’s skin and made his chest hurt.

“No, seriously. If you can get your underwear off…” Michael grabbed a tissue out of a box tucked behind the seat, and pulled at Nicky’s waistband to clean his soft penis. “We’ll dry you off.” There was nothing Michael could do about what he suspected was Nicky’s crisis of sexual identity, but at least Michael could help his physical predicament.

“There.” He swiped a wet wipe around Nicky’s base, making sure to avoid rubbing the chemicals on any part that would be too sensitive. The head was pink and tender, and Michael leaned down and gave it a kiss. Under his lips, the skin felt silky, fragrant with a mix of masculine heat and the kind of hardcore antibacterial cleaners Michael’s own mom had never used but he’d envied at other peoples’ houses.

“You don’t have to do that.” Nicky’s hands fisted at his sides.

“I know I don’t.” Michael hid his expression by turning to stow the bits of paper by his feet. “That’s why I want to.”

Nicky turned pensive, like he was thinking too many things at once.

“So, you want to take those off?”

“Nah, I’m fine.” Nicky closed up his jean shorts by their button fly then opened the door to head to the front.

As Michael followed, he braced for the brush-off. And fuck—he’d been expecting it, but it still made his throat tighten. “So, we going?” Michael dropped to the passenger seat, slamming the door a little harder than necessary. Eyes straight ahead, Michael gritted his teeth, waiting for Nicky to start the engine.

“I’m sorry I’m freaking out.” Nicky’s chuckle didn’t cover the shakiness of his voice. “It’s just…I hadn’t done that before.”

“Yeah. I figured.” Michael splayed his legs so Nicky would know Michael didn’t give a shit.

“Why? Was I bad?” Nicky’s worry may have been cute—even funny—if Nicky hadn’t been acting like Michael could go fuck himself.

Michael should have told Nicky he’d been terrible, given him a blow to his ego, but Michael sucked at lying. “No. It was fine. You just seemed nervous.”

“Oh. Well, yeah.” Nicky gazed past Michael and out the window at the lake. “I guess I was.” His move tentative, Nicky reached for Michael’s hand. “I…”

“You don’t want to hook up again.” Michael figured he’d put the guy out of his misery. “It’s cool. I get it.” He’d already told Nicky he didn’t date guys in the closet.

“No, I mean…I want to do this again.” Nicky tugged at Michael’s hand like he wanted Michael to look at him. In the dark it was impossible to tell where his pupils ended and the irises began. And Nicky’s puffy lower lids made him always look like he’d been crying. Either that, or like he was just waking up. “You liked it, right?”

Michael didn’t know how to answer, so he ground his teeth, weighing the potential pain against the definite pleasure. There were plenty of things he still wanted to do with Nicky, to him even, if Nicky was game. But there were reasons Michael didn’t get involved with guys like Nicky—and it wasn’t all because Michael didn’t want to get hurt. Nicky would never grow or learn to deal with his same-sex feelings if Michael pretended that staying closeted was a viable long-term choice.

“I did like it.” Michael took his hand back, gently so Nicky wouldn’t take it as a rejection. “But maybe if you want to be doing this kind of thing regularly, you might want to see a counselor or something. Figure out where you stand.”

Michael had worked a hotline the first couple years of undergrad where he’d taken calls from kids questioning their sexuality. Talking academically about whether or not you were gay was always easier than the nitty-gritty of actual relationships. “Are you bi?”

Nicky backed up until the better part of his body was against the door. “What do you mean?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Okay, yeah. Clearly you have some work to do figuring this out.”

A police car rolled through the park, and Michael checked the time on the car’s digital display. “Looks like they’re going to be closing the gates.”

“Yeah.” With a sigh that said he hadn’t gotten the response from Michael that he wanted, Nicky started the car. “We should probably go.” He pulled onto the road that led along the lake.

Lights flickered in houses and buildings on the other side, and sparse blue clouds floated across the navy sky. A couple stars were out—or they may have been airplanes.

Michael hadn’t done something like this in as long as he could remember, gone for a night drive with a guy he’d been intimate with. Junior year he’d dated that floppy skinny guy for a while, but that hadn’t lasted beyond spring break. Joseph had been a little too fem for Michael’s tastes, even though he’d been everything Michael wanted in bed.