Andy Cartwright is recovering from a brutal torture at the hands of Safi, the murderous sociopath. He's home and Andrew Wainwright is trying to take care of him while coming to terms with his new role as Andy's 'something.' Meanwhile, Nicholas is still and presumably permanently on the 'outs' with Danny (and Liz) and is trying not to self destruct over his mistakes in that relationship. In the meantime, he's become Andy's lover, and he doesn't really know why…because Nicholas Angel understands everything and everyone but himself.
Andrew took care of Andy as best he could, which he realized was not so good. He never before quite understood that he relied on Andy to keep their life on an even keel, with laundry and cooking and getting the bills paid…it was with a sense of shame that he finally saw how much of a wife Andy was to him. Andy said nothing and just went behind him to fix everything he fucked up, although there was no hope for the wool suit he washed on "hot." Andrew never experienced greater relief in his life than the day that Andy stated he felt strong enough to make dinner himself and told Andrew to go smoke a cigarette out his ass.
They slept together, mostly due to the night terrors that would bloom in Andy's dreams when he was asleep. It was nearly platonic affection, brotherly in most ways, although Andy would kiss Andrew's neck and chest lightly when he felt that Andrew was relaxed enough not to swat at him for it. It was a comfortable arrangement.
It was over a month later before Angel came back. They saw him every day at work, of course, but he was always distant and cordial and severe with them. They kept off of him, as did the whole department, given the tension that was not dimenishing between Angel and Danny. It was understood by pretty much everyone that Angel was close to snapping, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end of what would happen when that high-tension cord broke.
The night he returned, Angel stood on the stoop looking uncomfortable. Andrew did not say anything, just let him in.
Angel and Andy spent the night together. Andrew sat on the front couch and listened to them fucking, surprised to hear Angel's laugh ringing out late that night. He sat on the couch the whole time, drinking.
Nicholas got up and put on his pants, walking to the kitchen to get something to drink, knowing that Andy stocked the icebox with bottled water if only because he told him too. He knew by now that Andrew would be on the couch, in his jeans and tee shirt, asleep and drunk or awake and drinking, probably avoiding the noises that might come out of Andy's room when Nicholas was there. The whole thing reminded Nicholas of a university dorm, with people trading rooms in order to get laid. He hated it, but he had nothing else.
When he walked out of the kitchen, he realized that Andrew was not on the couch anymore. He walked back and found him standing in the doorway to Andy's room. Andy was asleep, sprawled naked across the bed, oblivious to the light that was still on or the two men staring at him from the door. The wounds all across the back of his body were healed but fresh, some of the deeper cuts still showing as red and pink scars. Most the skin between the scars looked new and tight and Andy looked like a jigsaw puzzle just now put back together – in many ways, he was, 322 stitches later. Nicholas drank his water and looked over at Andrew, who slowly collapsed against the frame and butted his head on the wood.
"What do you do to 'im?"
Nicholas put his hands on his hips and looked at the floor, understanding that it was not a prying question, but rather a worried one. "Not that, Andrew. Not that. He can't take it…anymore. Maybe never. He still passes blood sometimes." Nicholas tried to think clinically, to explain clearly and emotionlessly what he did not do in Andy's bed.
Andrew looked up at the ceiling.
"He ever tell you about t'cellar?"
Nicholas shook his head. "No. He doesn't talk about that time. Ever. Other than the report you filed and what I saw of his medial records…I don't know anything."
They both started at the sound of Andy's voice. Andy was on his belly, propped up on his elbows, and staring at Andrew, angry.
Andrew shrugged and acted bored as he walked into the room and leaned against the wall.
"Nick ever tell you about the hospital?"
Andy frowned, and Nicholas grimaced. "He's right, Andrew. Don't. Let these things go."
"Why Danny won't talk to 'im? Eh? Never told you? Surprised." Andrew sniffed and glared at Nicholas, daring him to stop. Nicholas sighed and leaned against the door frame. He kept glaring at Nicholas as he talked. "He kissed me like I was a damn girl."
Nicholas pursed his lips and looked at Andy, who just looked back at him, confused.
"It wasn't important. I was upset…I…I don't know." Nicholas sighed and lightly hit the back of his head against the door frame just as Andrew did earlier.
"It wasn't important?" Andrew stood up and wrapped his arms around himself, his voice suddenly uneven. "No it fuckin' wasn't. None of it was, was it, Andy?"
Andy was pulling sheets up around himself protectively, and the look in his eyes was unstable. Nicholas did not like where this was going.
"Andrew, you know what I mean. I was not thinking clearly, and neither were you. You, of all people, were not thinking clearly. You nearly got killed, you watched Andy being tortured…for god's sake. Andy doesn't need this."
Andrew gasped angrily and fell to his knees, smashing his fists into the floor so hard that Nicholas was shocked he did not break bones. Nicholas just stared at this completely unexpected emotional outburst, unsure of what to do. Andy was frozen in bed, looking wild.
"God I hear you all night. Fuckin'. And I know that sound, the way he sounds, I've heard it before…" Andrew was choking and bent his head down to the floor. Nicholas was wary; he had been damaged by Andrew before and he did not underestimate him now. He walked over and crouched down, carefully avoiding touching him.
"What's going on?" The obvious question felt like the best one. Andrew shook his head. Nicholas looked over to Andy, who was very clearly as confused as he was but far more upset.
Andrew pulled up and looked straight at Nicholas, furious, drunk but not all-gone-pissed, at least. "Tell him! Fuckin' tell 'im!"
Nicholas fell backwards just to get away from the force of his emotions. Then he turned to Andy.
"I kissed him. Next to your bed. We stood there and that is when Danny walked in…I don't know what else he wants me to tell you." He finished and looked back at Andrew, who was not appeased.
"All of it." Andrew snarled.
"Andrew, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know what you are trying to do here. I told him. I don't think he cares, really, and I don't. So what are you doing? What is going on?"
Andrew moved forward on his knees, throwing his arms out towards Nicholas, who immediately shielded himself from attack. Instead he felt Andrew's hands gently grasp his upper arms and as he looked up in surprise, Andrew fell on him, drawing him into a deep, hard, and open-mouthed kiss that tasted mostly of beer. Nicholas kicked his legs out for purchase as his weight was put off kilter. Andrew pushed down on him, forcing him all the way down to the floor, and then straddled him, pressing down on his arms and moving his pelvis slightly against Nicholas. Nicholas stopped himself from throwing Andrew off of him, making himself relax and letting the man do whatever it was he needed to do and wondering what the hell was going to happen when he got a hard-on, which he was due for any moment now under the circumstances. He turned his head to look at the wall, breaking off, trying to disassociate himself from this whole bizarre situation. Andrew pulled up and looked at him carefully, his snarl not quite gone.
"What did I do?"
Nicholas looked at him sideways. "Nothing. You didn't do anything."
Andrew shook him. "That's not fuckin' true."
"Yes it is, Andrew! What do you want me to say?"
"I let you…Damnit, I let you do it."
Nicholas nodded, finally understanding. Andrew dropped back into the kiss and Nicholas closed his eyes instinctively and arched his back as Andrew's hips ground into his in an impersonal, sexual way. It was not violent, as he was honestly expecting, and he remembered that their first kiss at the hospital was unusually gentle as well. Andrew's grip on Nicholas' arms was like iron, but the rest of his motions were soft. Andrew kept riding him, pushing into his body as the kiss dragged on. While Nicholas was definitely turned on, part of his mind was completely detached and trying to figure out what he needed to do to protect Andy if this went to hell. It was not comfortable for him, as Andrew was wearing jeans, but he tried to make adjustments so that he would not have to stop the whole process, as he decided that might cause more havoc than just playing something-like-dead, and if nothing else influenced that decision, his worry for Andy's safety did. Andrew's kiss became ragged as his hips picked up motion and soon he had his head pressed into Nicholas' naked shoulder as his whole body slid up and down, his hips twitching, and finally Nicholas' head seared with pain as Andrew bit skin. He shuddered as he finally collapsed. Nicholas was certain that he never heard anyone come so quietly as that and he wondered how many nights Andrew listened to them on the couch, getting himself off to their sounds.
Nicholas could look over to Andy. He was sitting up, wrapped in sheets, a stunned look on his face. Andrew pulled back and sat against the wall, his eyes closed, breathing heavily, and utterly quiet. Nicholas propped himself up and pulled away from him a little. The silence was a lead weight in the room, on all of them. Finally Andrew opened his eyes and they were dark and angry.
"Y'saw I was covered in his blood when you got there." He said it as if they were in the middle of the conversation, that forcing himself on Nicholas did not just happen.
"There was a reason for that…" Andrew finally cracked and shook uncontrollably, wringing his hands together and looking up at the ceiling again. Nicholas rolled up and put his hands on Andrew's shoulders. He did not feel comfortable taking him into his arms, as he might have done for Andy or, god help him, Danny in such a situation. No, not that. But he held on to him with a firm grip as Andrew slowly sank down into whatever oblivion was waiting for him.
Together, Andy and Nicholas got him into the bed. The laid on either side of him and eventually, when the Andes were asleep, Nicholas got up and pulled the sheets up and turned the light off for the night before crawling back to lie next to them again.
He woke up the next morning feeling Andy's hands on him. He knew it was Andy without looking.
Andy was taking off his pants, but there was nothing erotic to it. He was undressing Andrew as someone would a child, simply getting him out of dirty clothes for his own sake. His pants were crusted from his come and so was he; he figured he must have spilled a gallon of the shit on himself, getting off on Angel. As he thought of that, he groaned and laid back down, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes until it hurt. He thought maybe he was going as insane as Safi…but no, he could never hurt Andy that way. Himself, maybe…
He cursed silently. He was drunk last night and he knew he unhinged himself thinking about Andy as he sat on the front couch. He tried not to think of Andy, or his body, or his eyes; but he only kept returning to the feel of the man, alive. Alive. That was all that mattered to him and he needed to know every minute of the night that Andy was still alive. Hearing Angel fuck Andy grated on him and worried him endlessly, and eventually, last night, turned him on. He went back to the room to check on Andy, and seeing him on the bed brought out everything Andrew feared and needed. He wanted to walk over and take Andy into his arms, but he was horny by then and knew what he would do. His attack on Nicholas was not what he planned and it was not even enjoyable and in retrospect was damned embarrassing, but at least he had not hurt Andy. Angel, he knew, could take care of himself. Now Andrew's biggest fear was that he would not be able to take care of Andy without trying something very, very stupid.
He sensed Andy get off the bed, and he went to sit up, but found Angel's hand on his chest pushing him back down.
"Fuck off." He tried to brush off the touch but Angel's arm was like steel.
"He's not done."
Andrew looked at Angel, who was propped up on his side, naked, and just looking at him as if they were at work and sitting at their desks and talking about the weather. Andy walked back in carrying a towel and Andrew frowned.
"He's good at this. Leave him alone." Angel laid back down all the way on his side and closed his eyes. Andrew jerked his head back to focus on Andy, who was sitting down on the bed, in between his legs. Andrew pulled himself up a little, uncomfortable with the entire situation; they shared the bed for several months now, but never naked, and certainly never with Angel there. Andy ignored the reaction and moved forward, and Andrew gasped in surprised pleasure as the warm, wet towel was rubbed over him, cleaning him, and sending waves of serenity through his body. He looked over at Angel, who kept his eyes closed, for all the world dead asleep.
"Saves taking a shower when you're not done." Angel said, somehow feeling Andrew's gaze on him. Andrew cocked his head.
"I'm fuckin' done." Andrew growled, but stopped himself from just pushing the both of them off the bed when he saw Andy twitch his head, just a little.
Angel sighed heavily, as if he was annoyed at being woken up. He sat up and stretched and Andrew had to admit that for a man, Angel had a near-perfect body, if a bit small and delicate. Then Angel turned to Andy, who was sitting back on his heels, folding up the used towel.
"Get yourself off, then do him."
Andrew's jaw dropped but Angel just gave the order, got up and walked out to the bathroom to start his shower. He swiveled his head back towards Andy, telling himself that he needed to get out of the bed, now…but Andy laid one hand on his knee and looked at him with raw, unburdened need as his other hand reached down between his own legs.
Andrew threw his head back just to look somewhere else. "Christ, Andy, stop. This isn't us, mate…"
He kept his gaze off to the side but he could see what was happening, peripherally. Andy rolled his head back and his grip on Andrew's leg tightened as he worked himself into a hard jerk off and the bed shook with his exertions. Andrew felt his breath shortening and when Andy starting whimpering in excitement, and realized he was getting a hard on. He had dry fucked Angel and now he was getting off on Andy doing this fucking queer act in between his legs and Andrew just tried to pretend that he wasn't Andrew anymore. Which, he admitted, was not hard to do these days.
Andy raised up on his knees as he came, gasping, and his come fell on Andrew's own dick and he shuddered at the sensation of the warm liquid on him. And just as he came, in that moment, Andy bent forward and swallowed up Andrew's cock, sucking hard. Andrew cried out and bucked and was suddenly fucking Andy's mouth uncontrollably and desperately.
"Fuck no…Andy…fuck! Stop!…please…ohgod…FUCK! ANDY!"
He came, his back arching and his head thrown back and he knew without asking or saying anything that Andy would take it, and Andy would swallow, and Andy would clean him up when they were finally 'done.'
As he looked up, shocked with himself and ashamed and appalled and still incredibly horny, he saw Nicholas, dressed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a dark, unreadable look in his eyes.
Nicholas stayed over for three nights that week as they adjusted to the new dynamics. They all slept in Andy's bed, with Andy in the middle, although once or twice Andrew got out and secluded himself in the privacy of his own room for a few hours. At work, Nicholas tried to keep everything on an even keel and as far from Danny as he could, but he knew it was impossible that no one was picking up on the emotions running through the three men.
Danny, for his part, refused to look at Nicholas at all.
Nicholas felt as if he were rolling head first down a rabbit hole. He never in his life allowed himself to lose control, but he admitted that he was not in control right now. He did not know how to define what was going on with the Andes, between them or with himself; he did not know what to do to save anything that he might save with Danny or Liz, both of whom he loved and needed and felt incomplete without; and he did not know what to make of his own sexuality, and the needs it pressed on him to the point that he was making choices that were ruining his life.
It was like tag teaming, mostly; they all slept together but it was one-on-one when the sex started. Nicholas was willing to watch them, usually with a clinical detachment that chilled Andy, but Andrew always left the room when Andy started on Nicholas. And Nicholas and Andrew did not touch each other. Andy was their go-between, and he was fine with that.
Andy was glad neither man asked for more, because Andy could not give it. Safi's rape not only hurt him physically in a long-term way, it was psychologically something he did not want to relive. He was angry about that – beyond furious – and hated Safi for taking part of his sexuality from him, among other many reasons he hated Safi. He tried to make up for it in other ways, doing damn near anything Nicholas told him to do, to either one of them. Andrew was still uncomfortable with everything, but he was calming down the more head he got. It was almost as if he put up with the sex just so he could wrap Andy into his arms as they fell asleep.
Andrew came home from work to find Angel on top of Andy in the living room, both of them dressed but grinding like teenagers. He rarely watched them together, if he could help it. Sometimes an early morning session of something would happen while he was asleep in bed with them, but he tried to ignore it.
He closed the door quickly behind him. "Fuck you two, going to get us nailed for fraternization." He sneered at Nicholas as he stepped over them.
Nicholas jumped up, self conscious, and Andy cursed.
"Fuck it, thanks, Andrew. I was getting' off." Andy said from the floor, rolling his eyes.
"Not my problem, you goddamn wanker." Andrew took off his jacket and his shirt and went into the kitchen. Nicholas sat on his knees in the middle of the floor next to Andy, holding his head with one hand. He slowly leaned backwards until he fell on his ass and cradled his head between his drawn up knees.
"Wot the fuck the matter with you?" Andrew walked back into the living room, holding a beer, and sat down on the couch.
Nicholas looked up and shrugged. "I do not belong here." He got up and fixed himself, and then went for his jacket. Andy just laid in the middle of floor and watched Nicholas emotionlessly.
"So where do you belong, Arsewipe? Danny gonna take you back?" Andrew taunted and flung the beer aside as Nicholas landed on him, throwing punches. They clinched and rolled to the floor, both of them wailing on each other with force: one with training, the other with experience. Nicholas managed to roll up and land a solid punch to Andrew's rib cage but paid for it with Andrew's knee crashing into his hip and they fell back into a close clutch, using short, hard, fast punches against each other.
"Fuck on STOP it!" Andy yelled and both men froze. Andy threw himself on them and forced them apart, and they let him, neither one of them willing to dare landing a blow on him by accident. Andrew cursed and got up. Nicholas sat on the floor. When the tension calmed down after a few seconds, Andy stood with his hands on his hips, and then faced Andrew.
"Hate us, Andrew, but it won't change a damn thing."
Andrew looked up at him, wondering when in the hell Andy became psychic. But no, it was not that. Andy knew him, like he knew Andy, and he was just reading out of the book that was Andrew Wainwright.
"So this is about your homophobic self-loathing? Christ." Nicholas groaned and got up. "Enough."
"Shut it with your Met psychobabble and sit the fuck down on the couch." Andy pointed and Andrew nearly laughed at the expression on Nicholas' face, until he realized that Andy meant for Angel to sit next to him. Angel did, grudgingly, and they sat like schoolboys on the couch with Andy standing over them.
Andy crossed his arms, obviously deep in thought and trying to say something. They both just waited. "Nick?"
Andrew started, then realized that Nick was getting their names mixed up again.
"Tonight? Yes. If you want me to."
Andrew was always surprised to hear this side of Angel, his voice quiet and calming and…loving.
Andy nodded, but then shook his head. "But I'm sleeping alone. Tonight. You fucks can figure something else out."
Andrew shared a surprised look with Angel as Andy turned and walked back to his room and closed the door.
Nicholas leaned back, his hands on his knees. "He wants us close by." His voice returned to the clinical, professional clips that Andrew knew so much better, and he was glad. It brought them back to some kind of impersonal status quo.
"He doesn't even like it when I go to my room." Andrew nodded.
Nicholas frowned. "So will this be his first night sleeping alone since he came back from the hospital?"
Andrew nodded, and rubbed his mouth. "Nightmares. The meds killed the pain but fucked 'im in the head."
Nicholas nodded. "May I ask a personal question?"
Andrew snorted. "You were trying to beat the crap out of me a few minutes ago. What the fuck, Nick. Ask your damn question."
"Do you two do anything when I'm not here?"
Andrew glared, but he could not hold it. "No."
"…I really could use a beer." Nicholas said, and Andrew took it for the peace offering it was. They sat on the couch drinking and the conversation drifted to safer topics like politics, religion, and work.
"So your turn." Andrew waved his beer at Nick. They were drunk but not pissed, and relaxed on the couch, and constantly reminding each other to be quiet or they would wake up Andy.
"What?" Nick blinked.
"Danny." Andrew glowered at him, then took a swig out of his bottle as if he had scored a bulls-eye in a dart game.
Nick pursed his lips and played with his beer bottle. Then he sat back and started at the beginning of when things went wrong. All their fighting over Liz, which was resolved well enough but still rankled Nicholas when he thought about it; Danny and him ganging up on Andy in the locker room; his growing distrust of Danny based on Danny's attempts on Andy; the fallout with Liz and Danny and why he really came over that night to talk to Andy and ended up in the hospital, thanks to Andrew. And now…he had no idea what he was doing, and he cared for Andy but he desperately missed the life he had with Danny and Liz. Andrew sat in stunned silence, amazed that all of this was going on around him and he did not have a fucking clue.
Finally Nicholas stopped and started slugging his beer.
"Easy there, cowboy." Andrew snickered. Nicholas tried to smile and shrugged. "So you and Butterball and…Andy?" Andrew screwed up his face, trying to imagine it, and failing.
"Well, that's a given, isn't it?" Nicholas laughed. "We were hard on him. It's what he wanted, I suppose. He could have stopped us. I kept waiting for him too."
"Liz didn't take the news well." Andrew observed.
"No." Nicholas' face was grim. "And neither did Danny, when it all came down. It wasn't that I tried to do the right thing in the end, it was that I fucked it all up from the beginning."
Andrew drank some more, thinking. "Good for them."
Nicholas' head snapped to look at him and Andrew shrugged his hands up in the air.
"If you was mine I'd beat the crap out of you."
Nicholas breathed heavily for a few moments, then collapsed. "I'd welcome it, at this point."
Andrew snickered. "That can be arranged."
Nicholas smiled. "I think we'd wake up Andy."
They sat on the couch, nodding at each other. Then Nicholas leaned in towards him. "You love him, but here I am. I don't understand that, Andrew."
"Love 'im? No. I let him do what he wants."
Nicholas' eyebrows shot up. "Generous."
"Oh fuck off, Nick. You know wot I mean. I don't tell him to sleep on the floor."
"I never told him to do that."
"What the fuck ever. I mean, what makes him 'appy, he gets. That's all." He tried a swagger as he leaned back against the arm rest and put his feet on the couch.
"Christ, Andrew, you're the only thing that makes him happy. Call it what you want, it's still love." Nicholas leaned back and stretched out, looking straight ahead. "It probably kills him that you don't do anything together when you two are alone."
"We done enough."
Nicholas glanced over at him. "What happened in the cellar?" He asked quietly.
Andrew did not tell him. He could not do it. He rubbed his temples. It was beyond a private moment, it was something horrible, terrible, and wrong, and so profoundly, powerfully magnificent that he did not want to ever admit that it happened, to anyone. Yet here he was, a changed man, unrecognizable to himself because of it.
"I saw the face of hell."
Nicholas nodded, accepting the limitation, and Andrew breathed a sigh of relief. They sat in silence for a while.
"Andy lived, I guess that's all that matters." Andrew said, surprising himself by saying it.
"Did you live?"
Andrew snorted at the philosophical bullshit, but then thought maybe it was a good description.
"I swore I'd do anything to keep 'im alive…and I did, I guess. No. I didn' live through that…Safi killed one of us." He leaned back and closed his eyes, his face taut, his jaw clinching painfully. He felt Nicholas move in closer, and wondered what the fuck the bender was going to do now, when he picked up the sensation of Nick's warm hand rubbing the base of his head, at his neck, and it felt great.
"You makin' a pass, Miss Angel?"
"No, I'm trying to be compassionate and supportive. Danny always tells me I am not affectionate enough with people."
Andrew laughed until he could not breathe, and at some point he heard Nicholas laughing with him.
He woke up later in the night to find Nicholas sprawled against him, asleep, or just passed out. He knew they would both be hurting at work that day. He shoved Nicholas off and used the restroom and got one of the bottled waters that Andy starting putting in the fridge for Nicholas, hoping to beat off the immanent hangover. He returned to the couch to find Nicholas completely horizontal, snoring, taking up the whole damn thing. Andrew knew he should just go to his bed, but he had grown used to sleeping with someone lately. He considered crashing with Andy, who he knew would not actually throw him out. Given that Andy specifically said he wanted to be alone, Andrew could not bring himself to do it.
"Come on, Nick." He pulled him off the couch.
"What? Where?" Nicholas blinked as he was walked down the hall. "Andrew, Andy said he wanted to be alone…"
"He will be. Here." Andrew pushed open the door to his bedroom and spun Nicholas onto his bed. Nick bounced a bit and looked confused. There were no lights on in the room, but enough light came in from off the street that it was easy to see.
"I…I was fine on the couch."
"Well I wasn't. Lay down, twat."
"This is your room?" Nicholas asked, looking around.
"Fuckin' great deduction, Inspector. Lay down."
"Is that an order, Sergeant?"
"Yes, Inspector, it is." Andrew shoved him back. He sat down to take off his socks as Nick scooted backwards and laid down.
Nicholas gave him a childish, goofy grin. "Are you making a pass at me, Miss Wainwright?"
Andrew laid down next to him and slapped him on the cheek. "You'd know if I was, dear. Go to sleep."
Andrew woke up in the morning with Nicholas wrapped around him. It was alright, no different than how Andy slept next to him. Until he felt Nicholas' hot hands on his face and his body move up over him and they were lost in a long, deep kiss.
The difference here was that Nicholas did not feel the need to be in charge, or to lead, to be responsible for anyone. He had to be careful with Andy, and be the adult with Danny, and be the boyfriend with Liz, and be the boss at work; but here, with Andrew, a man he considered nearly his equal in many ways, Nicholas could simply relax. When he woke up in Andrew's arms, he knew what he wanted, and it was not a blow job. He wanted to wrestle and sweat and just be someone he could rely on to take care of himself without needing Nicholas to do it for him. Maybe even someone who could take care of him for a change, in some small way, without being instructed to do so first.
He lay awake thinking that, and wondering what he was going to do, but when he felt Andrew stir in slow wakefulness next to him, he stopped thinking. He reached out and took Andrew's face in his hands and rolled on top of him and stopped only briefly to register Andrew's surprise before kissing him. He was waiting to be pushed off, and he would accept that if it was how Andrew wanted things.
Andrew wrapped his arms around him.
Nicholas let Andrew lead, and it was a new experience for him but entirely welcome. Hands never dropped below chest or abdomen level; clothes did not come off, although Nicholas did snake underneath Andrew's tee shirt at some point; there was very little grinding and no heated passion and certainly no consummation.
Nevertheless, both men were late to work that morning.
Nicholas stayed away for a whole week. Andrew did not understand what was going on, or how it happened, but one night while they were alone that week, in the middle of their usual routine before bed, he pinned Andy to the wall. They ground on each other, grasping at each other's bodies and sucking on skin until Andrew came in a blinding fury, Andy trapped in his arms.
When Nicholas returned, small things were different, but much did not change. The differences were subtle: touches, glances, aggressive little plays caught in passing. Andy saw and understood and was not sure if he liked it or not, but it felt like the natural progression of things so he did not fight it.
Late one night, or early morning perhaps, when all three of them were arranged as always in bed with Andy in the middle, Angel got him off. It was a simple hand job and Nicholas was very good at that, and he pressed down on Andy's chest as his other hand moved quickly. Andy felt Nicholas' own hard on against his leg but he was caught up in the feeling of being pushed down by Nicholas, held in place, and forced to come whether he wanted to or not. In fact he came faster than he would have liked, but it was still marvelous, and he purred as Nicholas reached up afterwards and kissed him…and then Nicholas gasped, loudly, surprised. They turned as one to see Andrew wide awake, propped up on his elbow, his other hand running along Nicholas' back.
Andrew wrapped that hand around Nicholas' upper arm and pulled him right over Andy to him, lying back as he did so, and drew Nicholas into a deep kiss. Spent, Andy just watched as Andrew took the same hand that Nicholas just used on Andy and moved it down his body to his own cock. Nicholas froze.
"No." He pushed on the hand.
Nicholas was still fighting it, even as he lost the words to do so, probably worried that Andrew was taking it too far or something responsible and mature like that. Andy rolled to lay against Nicholas' back so that he was pressed firmly in between the two men. He leaned up to whisper in Nicholas ear.
"For fuck's sake, Nick, give him what he wants."
Nicholas' head twitched to the side but his arm relaxed and his hand settled over Andrew's dick in slow, practiced motions. As he did, Andy reached around him to feel Nicholas' erection, and pushed the tip of Nicholas' cock against Andrew's leg. Both men gasped at the sensations and Andy began kissing Nicholas' back as he stroked. Nicholas worked on Andrew as Andy worked on him until both men came, Nicholas thrown across Andrew's torso and gasping for air with Andy on his back, trying to hold on and finish him off, while Andrew bucked and moaned beneath them in Nicholas' firm and frantic grip. They all collapsed and Andrew wrapped his arms around both men. No one moved to clean up or adjust, and in the morning Andy just tore the sheets off the bed for the laundry.
Andy sat in bed, angry, twisting sheets in his hands, Nicholas sitting across from him, worried. Andy kicked Andrew out, which was odd and confusing to them, but now Nicholas understood why.
"It should really be Andrew. Not me. If you have to do this."
Andy rolled his eyes. "He's a fucking virgin at that, 'kay? He won't know what the fuck he's doing." Andy looked dead serious, and Nicholas tried not to laugh. The phrase 'Andrew Wainwright is a virgin' was not one he ever thought to hear in his lifetime.
"I think it is a bad idea."
"That your pansy way of sayin' 'no'?"
Andy kept twisting the sheets.
"You're scarred down there; Andy, there is no way you can do this without a lot of pain and blood. And I will not do that to you. Frankly, I don't think Andrew would either, virgin or not. Even if you think you can handle it mentally, your body is just…damaged." Nicholas felt terrible, saying that and saying 'no' but it was true. He laid a hand gently on Andy's knee and Andy exploded.
Nicholas felt himself falling backwards off the bed from the force of the blow and rolled up in shock to move his legs just in time before the dresser fell on them. Andrew was through the door in the next second as Andy ripped the mirror off the wall to throw at both of them, and they turned to scramble out of the room just as it shattered into a thousand painful pieces. They were barefoot but turned again and ran right over the glass back into the room, charging in together as if it was a major drug bust, tackling Andy as he pushed the bed over, yelling. He was kicking and he managed to grab the drawer out of the nightstand, and the contents of it went flying as he battered Andrew with it while Nicholas tried to get a hold around him. They all fell over and Nicholas' back hit the edge of the overturned dresser and he screamed in pain which only sent Andy lurching forward out of his grip. Andrew was still down too but managed to grab his legs and yelled at Nicholas to get the fuck up and help.
Andy changed directions and crawled right over Nicholas, dragging Andrew, as he made for the door through the ruins of the bedroom. The floor lamp and both Andrew and Nicholas suffered considerable damage before they managed to manhandle Andy down, Nicholas pinning his arms behind him while Andrew fought his legs. Andy was yelling for his life, and not about to calm down for anyone or anything.
"What the fuck did you do?" Andrew yelled at Nicholas over Andy.
"Oh shut up you stupid prick I didn't do anything!" Nicholas screamed back, in a lot of pain and dragged along the floor by Andy's desperate attempts to escape them.
"Later!" Nicholas pushed forward to roll Andy face down and finally, on his belly with two men on top of him, Andy's crazed fit began to ebb out of him.
"You mind…telling me…WHAT THE FUCK YOU DID?" Andrew yelled, pushing down on Andy.
"Christ, Andrew, he just went off!" Nicholas maneuvered his hands to better hold Andy's squirming arms.
"Get off me." Andy said furiously, gasping, still angry, still unbalanced.
"NO." Andrew and Nicholas answered together.
"Fuck me!" It was not a curse, it was a request, and it was desperate.
Andrew just stared in shock but Nicholas shook his head, then realized that Andy could not see him. "No, Andy."
"Damnfuck!" Andy gasped and drove his face into the carpet so hard he peeled skin off and then stopped abruptly. His body began shaking and they rolled him onto his side as he sobbed, crying with all the force of his body, wailing in mental agony, his consciousness obliterated. Andrew crawled up to hold him to his chest and Nicholas sank down so that Andy's back was pressed against him. He reached one hand out to Andrew's shirt and pulled, mashing them all together as tightly as possible.
Andy did not stop crying for hours. He was inconsolable and incoherent, and Andrew and Nicholas took turns cradling him while the other made attempts to fix the room. They talked over him, certain that he was just short of incapacitated and could not understand what they were saying.
"The hospital. This is a major breakdown, and he needs professional help."
"I got 'im."
"Damnit Andrew, this is serious." He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
Andrew looked up at him and Nicholas did not understand the look. Andrew sucked in air before answering. "This isn't a head injury, you twat. He just needs to work it out."
"He needs to be sedated," Nicholas answered, and then truly registered what Andrew said. They were having the same conversation Andy and Andrew had over his body, once. Andrew nodded at the expression on his face, and then turned back to Andy.
They got Andy into the bed and that was about the time they both noticed the red trail around the room. They looked down together and saw that their feet were cut to hell by the glass shards of the destroyed mirror. They were too worried about Andy to even register any serious pain, but when they did, they fell down in agony. The rest of the night was spent crawling around on hands and knees, picking shards out of their feet in the bathtub, and both of them cussing like sailors on shore leave.
"So…you cut your feet?"
"Like McClane in Die Hard. They are shredded." Nicholas sat at his desk, no shoes on, grimacing. His feet were wrapped with bandages and sock-bound, but walking was a major trauma. Danny stood in front of the desk, tapping on it with one hand. He actually jumped up from his desk to help Nicholas when he saw him hobbling through the door, and at this point it was the longest conversation they had held together in several months.
"Because Andy broke the mirror?"
"Yes. He had a melt down last night. That's why Andr…Sergeant Wainwright is out today. He's staying with Andy to make sure nothing else happens."
"Cut his feet up too?"
"Yes. If not worse."
"So you were visitin', barefoot, and Andy just went crazy?"
Nicholas blinked. It never actually occurred to him that Danny might not know, somehow, of what was going on with him and the Andes. For some reason he expected it to be common knowledge, and now he understood a fraction too late that it was not. The look on his face, he knew, told Danny everything.
"Danny…oh god…" Nicholas wrapped his face in his hands, not giving a damn who saw or heard him, realizing that the reason Danny spent so much time avoiding his gaze these last few months was not because he hated him, but because he was waiting for Nicholas to come back, fully expecting that now Andy was moved back in with Andrew, Nicholas would give up everything he had, including Andy, to do so; the door Nicholas assumed was permanently closed had stayed open the whole time he fucked around with other men. Danny was simply waiting on Nicholas, the man he loved, to come to his senses and come home. Nicholas knew all of this because he knew Danny, and he understood in that moment how very little he knew of himself.
"You fuckin' cunt." Danny said it, and it sounded surreal coming from him as his voice nearly broke, but he did say it and Nicholas did not answer as Danny stormed out.
Nicholas began driving Andy to see a therapist. The Andes were united against the idea, but Nicholas still held the ace of being Andy's "top" and ordered it, unforgivingly, and told him that it was go to a therapist or he would order him to sleep alone. Andy would, if so ordered, and he knew it, even if Andrew thought the whole situation a fuck short of absurd. Nicholas somehow felt responsible for the breakdown, even if Andy did not agree, and anyway Nicholas felt responsible for everything…everything he was getting wrong.
He thought maybe he needed to see a therapist himself, but decided that opening up about his three male lovers and his estranged girlfriend might send the wrong message, and it was bad enough that everyone in the department whom he had not had sex with was treating him as if he was an electric eel.
All he really wanted to do was give up.
Andy was at work. Their days off did not match – that was impossible and anyway, far too obvious – so some mornings when Nicholas stayed over, one or the other had to leave early. Nicholas and Andrew rarely touched each other when Andy was not around, other than Andrew making teasing grabs at Nicholas when he walked by, as more of a locker-room style joke than anything. Andrew was somewhat amazed by the comfort level he had now in bed with two men, even if he was still a bit shy of doing anything with Nicholas when Andy was gone. Nicholas did not seem to care either way.
Nicholas changed a bit lately, becoming more distant. Andy told him that some kind of show down happened between Nick and Danny, and unsurprisingly, Danny kicked him to the curb. Andrew just nodded at that, gaining new respect for Butterball even while he did feel a bit sorry for Nick.
Nicholas reached over and pulled him closer. Andrew was surprised but let him, figuring that they were in for some kind of long make-out again, maybe, as they had done once a very long time ago. He gasped a little when Nicholas went for one of his nipples, sucking and licking and pulling at the skin. Andrew drew Nicholas closer and realized that something was different, that Nicholas was not just petting or feeling randy…Nicholas was hungry. Andrew rubbed his back, wondering what was going on, a bit annoyed at being put into this position when Andy was not there.
Nicholas stopped and shrugged his back, as if he did not want Andrew touching it.
"Christ, Nick, what do you want?" Andrew asked irritably. These things were new to him and he was not sure he was comfortable with any of it anyway, and Nicholas' squirming annoyed the piss out of him. When Nicholas did not answer, he made to get off the bed but Nicholas hands shot out and closed in a vice grip on his arms, just above the elbows, pulling Andrew over him. Nicholas closed his eyes and bit his lower lip and moved.
Andrew remained nearly stationary on his hands and knees, except for what it took to keep his balance, as Nicholas brought one leg out so that he could wrap both legs completely around him. He used his legs to draw Andrew in, and when they were close, Nicholas released one arm and used his own spit on Andrew's cock, causing his erection to tighten. Andrew sucked in air at the sensation but still did not move as Nicholas put his hands up above his head to grab the headboard and he began pushing himself down onto Andrew, impaling himself in some kind of self-penance. Andrew braced his knees and locked his body in order to stay where he was and not be shoved down the bed by the strength of Nicholas' body against him, and the intense effort it took to remain still distracted him from the sensation of his cock slowly being forced into another man. Nicholas grimaced and gasped as he was breached and finally cried out wordless noise – Andrew knew that sound, that voice, and that pain. He tried not to remember…
Andrew shuddered when he finally registered the sensation of being wrapped in warmth and pressure and he reacted, drawing his knees up to support Nicholas' pelvis. He leaned forward so they were pressed together and he secured his hands under his rib cage, holding on, as he drove in and mercilessly, mercifully fucked Inspector Nicholas Angel.
That first day, which was a first day in so many ways for both of them, they never stopped. They did not fuck like that for a while – Nicholas was too sore – but they did everything else they could think of. This included Nicholas going down on Andrew, which he balked at, but he let Andrew win and some part of Nicholas was ashamed to admit that he enjoyed being manhandled for a change. He did a decent job, having been on the receiving end enough to clearly understand how to do it. He laid across Andrew's bucking legs, swallowing him as deeply as he could, which was not to the base but full enough. Andrew came, cursing, and Nicholas took it, which was not very pleasant but tolerable. There were showers and hand jobs and cold pizza for lunch. They did not discuss it, and they did not plan it out. Andrew, used to fuck sessions that lasted for days (although with women, of course, but still, he was learning it was much the same), did not even blink at it and enjoyed himself without wondering about implications. Nicholas tried to worry about what was going on, but then he was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place: as he talked or muttered or looked thoughtfully out the window, Andrew would grab him or crawl on top of him and soon they were rutting anywhere they fell in mindless oblivion.
Andy worked late, and by the time he walked into the bedroom, Andrew found the lube and thrown Nicholas over the edge of the bed and was completely absorbed in holding him down and fucking him doggie style. Andrew was smiling in aggressive passion and Nicholas had the sheets clenched in mouth, abandoned to his violation. Neither man on the bed saw or heard Andy, who sank to the floor in humiliation and jealousy and anger, watching the men he loved do to each other what they absolutely, resolutely refused to do to him.
They did not talk about what happened or what changed. There was not any need to, at one level: everything simply fell into place. Andy belonged to them, totally in love with one and completely subservient to the other in what might be a different form of love; but Nicholas belonged to Andrew.
In other aspects, Nicholas did not want to talk about it anyway. For one thing, it was painful. The only time he was ever violated before was when Danny grudge fucked him Liz' office. That was an incredibly emotional experience that was transformative and, in some way, healing for them. This was nothing like that. Nicholas thought of this as a penance and release cycle, a way of punishing himself and losing control of himself at the same time. If nothing else, when Andrew was on top of him and fucking him and making him come, Nicholas could just stop thinking. For a while. That was bliss enough to beg for.
A LONG TIME LATER...
Andrew stood in the door at work. Nicholas was in his office, discussing something with Doris; Danny and Walker were talking about something in the paper; and Tony was trying to look busy. Andy sat behind him at his desk, shuffling through paperwork concerning a runaway and a domestic disturbance.
The day before, he and Andy and Nicholas spent the entire day fucking. They usually did on their shared days off, which were few and far between. Nicholas kept it that way. Danny knew about Nicholas and Andy but probably did not suspect anything of Andrew's role, although other people, usually at the pub, were making snide comments about all three of them. Nicholas was not going to add fuel to that fire, and certainly not at work. Andrew respected that.
Nicholas screwed up yesterday, though, and it bothered Andrew. He could not say that he was in love with his Inspector; the very idea made him laugh. They were like college fuck buddies who cared about each other and more importantly were united in their feelings about Andy. Their release to each other was more of a power trip anyway. Andrew got off on ordering his boss around and fucking him, and Nicholas was getting off on being ground down and manhandled. Andrew knew why: Nicholas was tired of always being charge of everything, responsible to everyone, and he held some deep-seated guilt about his breakup with Danny and Liz. He figured all that out from some of the things Nicholas called out in the heat of passion, begging to be fucked or punished, things that Andrew knew Nicholas would flat deny ever saying if asked in broad daylight.
But then, finally, yesterday, Nicholas finally gave Andrew what he was waiting for and what he expected but in some part dreaded. Andrew pinned him on the dinning table, pressing Nicholas' face all the way down until it was mashed on the surface of the table, and they were both half dressed as Andrew plowed into him, thrusting is cock deep inside and banging his hips violently against Nicholas. They got to this in a hurry, after Nicholas damn near attacked him when they were inside the door coming back from lunch at the pub (Andy refused to watch them together and went to his room, closing the door loudly behind him), and it was hard core fucking of the sort that Andrew usually enjoyed watching more than doing, although he was never one to say no. Nicholas was utterly destroyed emotionally, gasping and begging and sweating and using one hand to get himself off as Andrew fucked him. As he came he yelled out and bucked so hard that Andrew was nearly dislodged and threw himself over Nicholas just to keep the table from tipping over. He stopped, not even finishing himself, not bothering too, knowing that Andy would be there soon to take care of him. He knew he needed to stop and let up because in the moment he came Nicholas was crying, gripping the table and calling out Danny's name, over and over and over.
When he finally pulled himself together, Nicholas refused to let either Andrew or, more surprisingly, Andy touch him. He stayed and watched them together and it was not until late at night when they were all almost asleep that Nicholas allowed Andy to go down on him, and even so, he was noiseless and quiet and did nothing more than grunt when he came. Andrew watched them, and truly understood Nicholas for the first time.
Andrew turned into the office and closed the door behind him. Andy looked up, bored and not very interested.
"We need to talk." Andrew shoved the paperwork aside carelessly as he sat on the edge of Andy's desk.