Chapter Text
“Here’s a glass of water.” Nick sat down next to him on the comfy brown leather sofa.
“Thank you.” Brett took a sip and leaned back slowly drifting into dreamland. He had spent so many evenings on that sofa, it felt just like it was his own. Warm, cushy, welcoming, soothing most of all.
“I’m gonna sleep like a rock.” He mumbled his eyes already closed. It was probably for the best if he slept here. He yawned again lifting his hand to rub his eyes and slumped a bit lower into the couch. He could feel Nick’s eyes on him but he was too tired, too tipsy to care. A relaxed sigh escaped him.
“You look pretty when you’re sleepy.” A low voice complimented and all of a sudden a finger glid along his jawline, slowly, and briefly touched his bottom lip, making Brett instinctively suck in the touched flesh between his teeth.
He didn’t dare to open his eyes; he didn’t want to see. If he saw, he would have to fake that he didn’t want it. If he saw, he would have to struggle. So, he just pretended nothing was going on, that he was already asleep and maybe it would go away.
But soon enough there it was, the big hand at the back of his neck, the hungry lips pulling at his, the deep sighs.
He didn’t want to enjoy it. He didn’t want his hands to grab onto the rough fabric of his shirt.
He didn’t want to feel so desperate for him to put his weight against his longing body.
He thought that he could still save himself if he stopped now. It would just be a kiss. A little mistake, nothing that would undermine what he had promised himself.
Just stop now.
Now.
Now!
“I think we shouldn’t.” He managed to say, feeling dizzy and out of breath. Their faces still close to each other.
“Nah.” Nick objected and leaned in again for a kiss but only got the corner of his mouth when Brett turned his face away.
“Yes, I think we should stop.” Although weakly, Brett pushed him away, which made Nick smirk knowingly.
“You want this, Brett. Look how hard you are already.”
Even though the whole time Nick’s big hand had only been resting on his thigh, there was a dark spot just where his manhood was swelling into hardness.
When he looked down at himself, a sudden wave of embarrassment painted his cheeks red.
Not even his own body believed him.
Look at it. You’re such a failure.
“Nick…I-”
“Come on. It’ll be fine.” He interrupted shifting his hand slightly upwards.
“No, I shouldn’t- “, Brett swallowed hard and pushed his hand away, suddenly aware of how much bigger it was in comparison to his.
“Bretty…”
It had happened so quickly. As if he weighed nothing, Nick had swooped him off the sofa to his bedroom. He had felt like someone watching from above as he had undressed him unable to crawl out of the sticky swamp of alcohol, exhaustion and excited anticipation.
He was lying now in silky sheets, his shirt open, his boxers hanging from one of his ankles and Nick’s head bobbing up and down between his legs.
His fingers disappeared in his salt-and-pepper hair. “Nick.”
It seemed as if all the liquid in his body was boiling.
“Fuck.” He closed his hand to a fist. “Stop.” And pulled.
“Let’s just…” He struggled as the muscles in his hips contracted and he twitched aimlessly.
“Let’s just what, Bretty?” He smiled content with the reaction he was getting. His four-o’clock-shadow scratched the sensitive skin of his inner thigh when he kissed it fervently.
Fuck.
He had to stop. He didn’t want to be like this anymore. He didn’t want to be so weak. He couldn’t be a man anymore that was commanded by lust and desire. He wanted to be more. But every part of his body was starving for touch, was screaming for them to go on. For Brett to surrender to the ecstasy that was awaiting.
“I want to stop.” He said unconvincingly, pulling his shirt closed over his exposed chest.
“I don’t believe you.”
Nick grabbed his legs with both hands and bent them upwards. Slightly panicking at his firm grip, Brett fought against his attempt to get at his ass and tried to sit up.
“No. Rick. Let’s stop. I…” He begged, the unsympathetic look on his lover’s face made him nervous.
“Brett.” The taller man sighed, impatience swinging in his voice. He got onto the bed, already naked from the waist down. It was clear from the way he crawled on top of him that he had no intention of letting Brett get away.
“Stop playing hard to get. It’s getting ridiculous.” Brett was roughly shoved further down the mattress.
He watched in blatant disbelief as the bigger man spread his legs and took what he wanted.
It hurt this time.
“No…” In a fit of desperation Brett squeezed his eyes shut unable to reconcile the pressure quickly building in his abdomen with the need to escape.
“Wait.” he dug his nails into his arms.
“Give me a minute.” The lust in his eyes made him realise that there was no use fighting it. He tried to relax his cramped-up muscles against the sudden intrusion.
Maybe Nick saw the tears he was blinking away. Maybe he didn’t.
But when Brett loosened his grip, he kissed him consolingly.
With a clenched jaw and furrowed brows Brett stared at the wall to his right, trying to bite through the pain that was scorching his body.
“Relax for me, Bretty.” Nick’s voice lulled into his ear, lowly, firmly, leaving no space to protest as he started to mercilessly stroke him. A few experienced tugs were enough to get Brett to the point where he couldn’t help but moan through his teeth frustrated at his inability to control his voice. He felt his hips buck involuntarily as he succumbed to the burning need to thrust into the firm hand around his length. Something wet poured down his cheeks as he struggled against his own body betraying him.
It didn’t take long until he came onto his own belly a tear-stained mess and Nick finished off having his way with him unfazed by the wreck he had caused.
Scolding hot water poured over his head as he tried to scrub away the disgust, he felt for himself.
It was his own fault and he had paid the price. He shouldn’t have gone out. He should have stayed home. Stayed with his wife.
This is all so wrong.
Salty tears mixed with the fresh scent of the body wash he smelled on Nick every day. If he had had a choice, he would have preferred something different. Something that smelled foreign, strange, just not like him. But anything was better than reeking of cold sweat and rough sex.
Sex, he didn’t want to call it that. It had nothing to do with that. It was an unwanted exchange of bodily fluids. A forced transaction. Nothing more.
Nick was leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom in an old pair of boxers Brett recognized immediately as the pair he wore when he had last stayed over four months ago.
He pulled the towel around his shoulders over his chest but Nick had already seen the fading and the new red streaks crisscrossing over his pale skin.
“Hm.” He breathed out seemingly fascinated by the pattern.
“It’s not because of you.” He said briefly crossing his arms.
“Didn’t think so.” His blue eyes seemed to pierce right through his brain.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Don’t have to.”
Silence.
“Come.” Nick turned around and disappeared into the dark bedroom. Brett stared at his feet on the cold tile floor and then followed the tall man.
A cup of coffee in one hand, a cigarette in the other, Nick was standing on the balcony. Grey clouds were hanging heavily from the morning sky ready to burst.
“You’re coffee’s on the counter.” He pulled at his cigarette.
Brett shook his head.
“I’m leaving now.”
“Okay.” Nick cleared his throat.
“I don’t want to see you again.” He heard his own voice tremble slightly.
“Where have I heard this before?” He said twirling the fag between his fingers.
“This was a mistake.” Brett sighed and crossed his arms defensively.
“You seem to be in a great mood this morning.” He said seemingly distracted by what was happening down in the street.
“I didn’t want this!” A big clump had formed in his throat.
“Stop pretending.” Nick shook his head, he looked tired letting his gaze wander over the skyline. “You wanted this as much as I wanted it and you know that.”
Silence.
Nick downed the rest of his coffee.
“I have no idea how your wife hasn’t noticed yet. Either she’s blind or a fool.” His voice filled the emptiness in Brett’s head like cement.
“Leave her out of this.”
“But isn’t she the reason this has been going on for so long?” He put out his cigarette and made a step towards Brett.
“No, I am just…confused, that’s all.” He averted his eyes.
“Sure Brett. You’ve been confused for the past five years.” Nick seemed annoyed with him.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” He turned towards the glass door.
“Listen, you are going to end up in my bed sooner or later unless you find someone else who plays along with your charade.”
“I don’t need this.” He insisted defiantly opening the door to go inside.
“Sure.” Nick’s big hand grabbed at his shoulder and twirled him around. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned down, watching Brett’s pupils dilate and his mouth open in anticipation and then he pulled back, smirking triumphantly.
“You don’t need this, do you?”
“No.” Brett freed himself clumsily from his grip and forced himself not to look back when he left to go home.
She was sitting at the kitchen table, a wooden board and a little pot of blue paint in front of her on some newspaper. When he snuck by the door, she was about to sink the brush into the paint again but shouted immediately when she heard the front door fall shut:
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“Out.” Brett said weakly as he stopped in his tracks and slowly shuffled back to the kitchen.
“What the hell Brett! You’ve been gone since yesterday. You had me worried sick.” She still held her brush to point it at him accusingly.
“I can’t do this right now.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.
“What? What can’t you do? Apologize for disappearing?”
“Listen-”
“No, you listen. You promised me that you would stop doing that! And I thought that we had an agreement!” She looked at him obviously frustrated by his behaviour.
“Even though you might be surrounded by young students, you are not one of them, Brett! You are a married man with a baby on the way! Do you understand? You cannot just disappear like that without telling me!”
Brett scratched his forearm; he could feel the tears burning in his eyes.
“Brett, are you not gonna say anything?” She pressed annoyed.
He hid his face.
“Brett.”
And suddenly it spilled over.
“Brett!”
He choked at the pain in his throat.
“Stop! For god’s sake. You have no reason to cry!” Her flat hand crashed down on the table surface with a bang.
Uncontrollable sobs rattled his chest as he failed to regain composure.
“Stop!”
But it was impossible for him to cease sobbing into his hands, so he walked off, leaving his wife alone in the kitchen.
“I’m not done talking to you.”
“Brett!” He heard her push back her chair. A sudden flush of adrenaline made him disappear in the guest room and lock the door behind him. He couldn’t. He couldn’t, not now. He felt so raw. So weak. He leaned against the cold wood.
“Open the door.” The door handle turned uselessly. Silence. Something shuffled on the other side as if she were pressing her head against it to hear.
“Open the door, Brett.” She said quieter than before, the order morphed into a plea. Brett sank down along the wood to the ground.
“Brett?” She tried again.
Silence.
“Please open the door, darling.”
Her soft tone made him sob only more violently. She sighed. Some more shuffling and then:
“I’m not trying to fight with you, okay? I know that you like spending time with Nick, I understand that, he’s a lovely guy but just tell me when you don’t come home.”
Silence.
“I know that I haven’t been easy lately. And I know that hormones are not an excuse but…you know…It’s not easy for me either.”
Silence.
She groaned annoyed. “Okay. Brett. If you want to stay in there, then so be it. I’m going to see mom tonight anyway.”
Her steps faded away as Brett curled up against the door, his knees tucked in under his chin catching the tears that were flowing freely over his red cheeks.