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don't know where you start, and where i begin

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The moment Marti sees the hotel bed, he doesn't even take his jacket or shoes off before throwing himself onto it face-first. Behind him, he hears Nico chuckle.

"Now you're just being dramatic," Nico says, and Marti replies with a groan that gets muffled by the pillows where he's buried his face.

"We walked a lot," he mumbles, spreading his arms and legs in a starfish-like position that has Nico laughing at him again. Marti turns his head to the side and smiles, watching Nico move around the room in his peripheral vision.

This is their second day in Berlin but the first full one. They spent the morning at the East Side Gallery and the afternoon doing a street art tour in the Kreuzberg area, and they did walk a lot. Marti isn’t exhausted but he can’t say he minds giving his feet a rest.

They've come back to their hotel to recharge and wash up before going out later for dinner and maybe a bar or a nightclub. Nico has a whole checklist of places he wants to visit, from themed cocktail bars to obscure underground techno clubs, because, in his own words, Berlin is the capital of techno and they can't leave without going clubbing at least once.

It’s their first trip alone together. They chose Berlin because neither of them had been there before and flights were cheap, and Marti let Nico plan everything out because this was his trip, to celebrate the end of his exams.

In the last few weeks, he loved watching Nico come alive with contagious enthusiasm and anticipation every time he showed or described to Marti all the cool things they'd do, how eclectic and multicultural and open-minded the city was. Marti even got him a film camera for his birthday so he could use it on this trip, bought with Filippo’s help after Nico had dropped some not-so-subtle hints.

"At least take your shoes off," Nico says, shaking his head and grabbing Marti's feet to pull his shoes off.

"Why, when I have you doing it for me?" Marti teases, wiggling his feet and getting tickled in return. He gasps and tries to kick Nico's hands away, already begging him to stop. Nico laughs and grabs his ankles, pushing his legs to the side.

"Scoot over," he says, and Marti rolls onto his back to make space for Nico, who toes his shoes off and crawls on the bed with him. He flops down next to Marti and sighs, turning his head to look at him with bright eyes and a soft smile. Marti returns the smile and meets Nico halfway for a quick kiss.

"I want to see your pics," Nico says, switching to lie on his side. He throws his left leg over Marti's, moving closer.

"Okay," he says, patting the pockets of his denim jacket to find his phone. He unlocks it and opens his camera roll, angling his phone so that Nico can see.

There are dozens of pics of the East Side Gallery murals, including selfies with Nico and a couple of mandatory photos of him posing in front of the murals to send to his mom. Some pics he took on their street art tour. Most of them are of Nico: Nico eating, Nico laughing when caught off-guard, Nico walking in front of him, Nico snapping photos and looking serious, Nico inside a vintage shop. He would be embarrassed about the number of sneaky pictures he took if he didn't know that Nico probably has just as many candids of him on his camera.

"I like that one," Nico says, swiping back to a picture of him crouching down and holding his camera up in front of a mural, with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

"Of course you do," Marti rolls his eyes. "Fucking hipster."

Nico punches him lightly on the shoulder and Marti snorts. He takes Marti's phone and scrolls back to the pictures of the Berlin Wall, looking through a bunch of their selfies.

"This one," he says, smiling up at the one they took in front of the Worlds People mural. "Post it on Instagram."

"Okay," Marti says. He takes his phone back and swipes to another selfie they took in front of the Trabant mural, one where they're making silly faces. "Or this one?"

"Both," Nico says, and Marti chuckles.

"As you wish."

He opens the app and starts creating a new post. He dumps in another couple of pictures while he’s at it, including a mirror selfie of them trying on weird sunglasses inside the vintage shop. Marti ended up buying a pair.

He asks Nico to come up with a caption for him.

"I don't know. Just 'Berlin'."

"Thank you for your creative contribution," he teases, earning Nico's fuck you and a playful jab in the side.

"Berlin," he says, typing it out on his phone. "Capital N?"

He looks at Nico with a complicit smile and Nico grins back at him, biting his lower lip.

"Capital N."

He hits 'post' and waits for it to load before locking his phone and throwing it somewhere by his side. Readjusting his head on the pillow, he turns to look at Nico, who's staring at him with an enigmatic smile.

"What's up?" he asks.

Nico shakes his head, moving to stroke Marti's cheek with the back of his fingers.

"I'm happy," Nico whispers.



Nico leans in for a sweet kiss that lingers and continues.

"I'm happy to be here," he says. His lips trail up from the corner of Marti's lips to the top of his cheek to press another soft kiss there. "Alone," he says, pulling back to look at him with a lopsided grin, "with you."

Marti can't contain the smile growing on his face.

"Me too."

He initiates the kiss now, sliding a hand through Nico's dark curls. The kiss is slow, and Marti turns fully towards Nico, legs tangled. Nico's hand falls to his hip and he slips it under the jacket that he is still wearing to settle on the small of his back and pull him closer.

His hips meet Nico's as he slots a thigh between his, breaking the kiss on a sigh. Marti opens his eyes to look at Nico, who returns the look with a smile. When he leans back in, he lets Nico slip his tongue between his lips, teasing as his hand moves to caress up and down his back.

The air between them is getting heavier along with their breaths and Marti thinks another reason why they have anticipated this trip so much is this. Having a hotel room to themselves for five nights. No one else's schedule dictating how much time they have. No one interrupting them. No biting his hand to keep quiet when Nico slips a hand in his boxers while his mom is sleeping next door. Just the two of them, alone in a room with a double bed and what feels like endless hours to spend wrapped in each other.

He can't speak for Nico, but he has been waiting for this.

He deepens the kiss, hand moving from Nico's hair to his jaw and neck, angling his head closer, better. Nico exhales through his nose, hooking his leg around Marti's and using the leverage to roll on his back and pull him on top of him, Marti going along happily as he props himself up on his left hand and knee. He smiles, used to ending up in this position but always a bit breathless every time he gets to look down at Nico like this.

Nico raises a brow and smiles up at him mischievously, his lips already swollen from their kisses. "Not tired anymore?"

"No," Marti says, tilting his head. He leans down for a kiss that Nico cranes his neck up for, only to move back just out of reach before their lips brush, teasing. Nico huffs, laughing as he chases Marti's kiss, but Marti inches back and back until without even realizing it Nico is sitting up and he is kneeling on top of him, straddling one of his thighs. Nico cradles Marti's jaw and finally, his lips meet Marti's in a soft kiss, open mouths fitting together in a sweet back and forth.

Nico tugs at the lapels of his jacket and they both work to pull it off. Marti's t-shirt is next to join it on the floor, Marti arching his back into the soft stroke of Nico's hands slowly rolling his shirt up. He raises his arms to help Nico take it off, wrapping them around his shoulders next and fisting the cotton of Nico's white t-shirt with not as much care, stretching it over Nico's head and tossing it somewhere behind him.

When he kisses Nico again, he tries to slow himself down, slow his heartbeat down, match Nico's pace, tongue teasing his lower lip and moving down to his chin and his neck, mouthing at the hot skin just below his jaw. He traces Nico's long, long neck with his tongue, fingers tangled in his curls again like there's a magnetic force pulling them there.

Tugging lightly on Nico's hair, he angles his head to mouth at even more skin, slowly traveling up to his jaw and ear, flicking the helix piercing that he'd gotten just to match his with his tongue, feeling Nico shake under him.

Before Marti realizes, Nico has made quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans and is sliding a hand under this ass to flip them over and lay him on his back. Marti wraps his thighs around Nico's hips and lets him switch their positions again, and now it's his neck that's a playground for Nico's lips and teeth and tongue. Marti's eyes flutter closed, and he can't contain a huff of laughter that turns into a gasp when Nico bites his collarbone.

Nico pops back up for a quick kiss before scooting back all the way to take Marti's pants and socks off and then his own. Once they’re down to their boxers, Marti takes a good look at Nico, and there’s something about seeing his body, sculpted and lean and beautiful, that always feels like the first time and makes his throat go dry.

He swallows as Nico crawls back on top of him, takes his hands along the way and laces their fingers, pinning his wrists above his head. Marti's body arches to accommodate the stretch, his lips finding Nico's smiling ones.

"I want to kiss all of you," Nico says.

Marti hums a reply, a sound of delight that is all he can come up with when Nico tells him this kind of things.

Marti's eyes follow Nico as he moves over him, and he tries to relax his body as he feels Nico kiss each one of his fingers, his palms, the inside of his right wrist. The gentle adoration in the soft brush of lips knocks all the air out of Marti's lungs and has his heart beating in complete contrast to the slowness of Nico's kisses. He's half hard by the time Nico reaches the inner part of his elbow.

"Ni," he whines. He tries to reach up and kiss whatever patch of skin is nearest, Nico's chest, his shoulders, anything to distract himself from how Nico's undivided attention and care is making his heart burst, but Nico pulls back and shakes his head with a smug smile.

Back to making his way down Marti's right arm, he makes a detour to kiss his tattoo and a couple of moles, tickling Marti when he grazes his armpit with the tip of his nose to kiss the soft skin just below it.

He's going to come untouched, Marti thinks. Nico crosses the width of his shoulders and chest to kiss down his left arm in the opposite direction, from shoulder to wrist. He lets Marti's hands go to cup his face, but Marti keeps them right where they are, surrendering. He looks up at Nico and meets the intensity in his eyes with a stuttered breath.

Nico kisses him everywhere but on the lips, kisses his forehead and brows and his eyelids, kisses the bridge of his nose and the top of his cheekbones where his freckles have become more prominent in the summer, something Nico never fails to point out with tender wonder. He drags his lips on his cheeks, a bit prickly after two days of not shaving, and tucks a curl behind Marti's left ear before kissing his piercing.

Marti sighs, fingers twitching to latch on Nico and drag him in for a kiss. It is the sweetest kind of torture, what Nico is doing to him.

He moves down to his neck but is surprisingly quick about it, licking and kissing down the hollow of his throat perfunctorily. Marti is almost disappointed about it. Nico chooses instead to leave open-mouthed kisses across his smooth chest and latch his lips around his nipple, making Marti squirm. He gasps, eyes rolling back, cock twitching in his boxers as Nico licks insistent circles around his nipple, teeth scraping it gently before moving to the other one, treating it with the same attention and care.

It's almost too much. Marti's hands twist to clutch the sheets, something to hold onto.

"Can I touch you?" Marti asks.

Nico looks up at him from below his lashes, mouth open and shiny and red. He smiles and nods, chin rubbing Marti's sternum, and Marti's hands fly to sink in his curls, grounding himself in the feeling of Nico's scalp under his fingertips. Part of him desperately wants to push Nico's head down and hurry this up but he holds himself back.

He's panting now as Nico scoots back more between his spread legs and licks a stripe down the dip of his stomach to his navel, kissing the sensitive skin just below it. His hands caress his sides in a way Marti can only describe as reverent before settling on his hips.

"You're so beautiful," Nico says, kissing each of his sides before looking up at him again. And Marti appreciates the praise, so much that it chokes him, overwhelming like everything else about this moment is. He can't ignore how Nico is hovering over his hard dick, and he fights between the urge to have him touch him and the need to kiss him right now.

The latter wins.

"Come here," he says, lifting himself and pulling Nico up simultaneously to meet him halfway. He kisses Nico, and it's not frantic but it's passional, fingers cradling Nico's jaw as he slips his tongue in and Nico lets him command the kiss, lets him tilt his head back, bite his lips and teasingly pull them between his teeth.

When Marti breaks the kiss, Nico exhales shakily. He's hard, too. Marti can see it from this angle and all he wants to do is reach down and touch, make him feel good the way Nico is making him feel good, but he knows he has to wait. He rubs Nico's lower lip with his thumb and kisses him one last time.

"Go on," Marti says, and he sounds wrecked even to his own ears.

Nico nods and bites his lip, eyes half-lidded as he pushes Marti down with a hand on his chest. He grabs a pillow to prop himself up and watches Nico kneel back between his legs, spread his thighs with both hands. He keeps his hands there, thumbs digging in the soft flesh of his inner thighs where he knows Marti is sensitive, where every touch feels too intimate.

Marti inhales sharply as Nico dips his head down and mouths at the trail of hair that disappears under the waistband of his boxers, so close to where Marti wants him to be that he can't help rubbing his erection with his chin or his neck and provide just the slightest bit of breathtaking friction.

His thighs tremble, muscles tensing and relaxing, and he feels his heart pulsing in his lower body, hyper-focused and lightheaded at the same time.

Nico drags his lips down the outline of his dick and it's pure relief, as if every cell in his body was waiting for the wet touch of Nico's mouth through the thin fabric. He kisses the underside, tongue peeking out to draw circles and lips closing in a kiss at the base, and Marti's hand is back in his hair, not pushing even if he wants to, just touching, thumbing his ear.

He throws his head back and closes his eyes, brows furrowing in flashes of white-hot pleasure and anticipation, Nico moving to pepper delicate kisses at the junction of his thighs and pelvis.

This is it, Marti thinks, as Nico slips his index fingers up the legs of his boxers, spreads his thighs even more, so close to touching him.

But he doesn't, moves his mouth lower instead, down his balls and lower still, pressing a delicate kiss between his cheeks.

Marti's eyes fly open, breath hitching. And there's a pause there, a moment of hesitation, like Nico is waiting for his reaction. Sure enough, when he finds the courage to look down, Nico is already looking up at him, searching his face. Whatever he finds there must be enough for him to continue working his way down his body, smiling into the skin of his inner thigh.

Marti blinks up at the ceiling and swallows. Nico is focusing on his favorite part of his body now, his thighs. He squeezes them, kneads the thick flesh in his hands, licks and kisses and bites. His skin is so pale there it takes nothing to mark it red and purple. He'll have hickeys there in the morning and every time his thighs brush, he'll be reminded of Nico.

He's so hard it hurts. The ghost feeling of Nico's lips over his hole monopolizes his mind and before he realizes, Nico has almost finished exploring his body. He snaps back to attention as Nico lifts his legs one by one to kiss his knees and the back of them and brush his lips down his calves. His last two kisses land on the tattoos at each of his ankles. He lowers Marti's legs and looks him in the eyes with so much want and adoration it makes it hard to breathe.

He's stunning, Marti thinks. His lips are so red and puffy, and his pupils are so blown out you can't see the green, wild curls falling over his forehead. His strong chest and arms, his lean thighs and the tent in his boxers make Marti's mouth water.

"And now?" Marti whispers.

Nico smiles, moving to prop himself back on top of Marti. They gasp in unison when their dicks brush for a shocking split second before Nico lifts his hips just out of reach. Part of Marti wants to laugh but the other wants to cry in frustration.

"And now," he says, "it's up to you."

His voice is so low it sends shivers down his spine, and Marti looks at him, mouth open. He thinks about the unexplored territory of what happened minutes earlier, head spinning with possibilities.

He's thought about it before, when Nico's mouth wandered close but never close enough, so he never thought he could ask, he didn't know how to ask. But Nico is offering because he can read him like an open book, because he knows what he wants and what he likes before Marti even knows it himself. Because he's curious and he wants to give Marti this and wants to try it himself.

Everything Nico does is to make him feel good, make him feel loved.

Marti swallows.

"You did something before..." he trails off, breathless, shy, face burning.

His eyes search Nico's and he knows Nico knows, watches as slow realization dawns on him. Nico exhales through his nose and cups his face with his left hand.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he says, leaning into Nico's touch. He blinks up at him slowly and meets him in a kiss that tastes like fresh water in a desert.

He gets a bit frantic now, pulls Nico's hair a bit, digs his fingers in his nape, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Marti doesn't even realize he's rolling his hips into Nico's before Nico grabs them and holds him down, breaking the kiss. He smirks when Marti chases his lips.

"Roll over?"

Marti turns to lie on his belly and he sighs at the wonderful pressure of the mattress against his dick. It takes everything not to rut into it. His heart starts pounding in anticipation as Nico readjusts himself on top of him and slowly kisses his way down his back, from his shoulder blades to the center of his spine.

He is already arching into his touch, into Nico's mouth on the small of his back, and the lower Nico goes the shorter his breath gets.

He crosses one arm under his head, clutching the pillow with his free hand. Nico's fingers dip in the waistband of his boxers and Marti lifts his hips to help Nico take them off. Free of the fabric, the feeling of the soft sheets rubbing against his dick makes him sigh.

Nico's hands are back on him and so is his mouth. He's kissing the top of his cheeks, tracing the curve of his ass with his nose and biting lightly, dragging his teeth down his left cheek. He's playful but deliberate, and Marti spreads his legs a bit, relaxing.

He is not nervous, because he trusts Nico. He wants this.

Nico spreads his cheeks and the first light stroke of his tongue almost sends him jumping off the bed. He moans because he can't hold it back, because he didn't expect it, didn't expect it to be like this. It's new and overwhelming and different.

He's gasping and Nico has the decency of waiting for him to catch his breath before tentatively licking another stripe across his hole, swirling his tongue delicately around the puckered skin.

Marti's breath hitches and he whines high in his throat, and he hears how desperate he sounds but can't stop himself. He can't look at Nico, but if anything, he seems to be encouraged by the sounds he is making, growing confident in the way he's kissing him where no one has ever kissed him before and no one else is ever going to.

A million thoughts are running through his head and not even one of them is even remotely coherent, brain short-circuiting on pleasure. He can't feel his fingertips, blood rushing all the way south, toes curling. It's like only one part of him exists right now.

He's rolling his hips back to meet Nico's mouth, to feel more, and Nico grabs his left hip to slow him down but doesn't stop him, and somewhere in the back of his mind Marti thinks he's riding Nico's face and almost blackouts. He flushes from his cheeks to his chest.

His orgasm is already building up, it feels like he's been waiting to come ever since Nico kissed the inside of his wrist. He doesn't want it to be over, but he knows he's close.

"Fuck," he whines when Nico sucks on his rim. His eyes roll back behind his eyelids and he's almost sobbing, almost laughing, delirious. He feels high. It feels so good he's tearing up.

He frees his arm from under his head and reaches back, fumbling blindly until Nico holds his hand and laces their fingers together, squeezing, anchoring him.

Nico teases the tip of his tongue in and he spreads his legs more, slowly rolls his hips back and forth, into Nico's touch and into the bed to give his dick some friction.

It's exhilarating. He's seconds away from coming and Nico hasn't touched him once.

He wants desperately to last, but when Nico starts tentatively fucking him with his tongue he comes so hard his vision blurs, making a mess of the sheets below him and his upper thighs and stomach. Nico reaches down and strokes him and that touch is so sudden he moans, so overstimulated it almost hurts, every part of his body he can still feel trembling. He didn't even have time to warn him.

Nico rolls him on his back and out of the wet spot as he rides his orgasm out, chest falling and rising with heavy breaths. He opens his eyes and Nico looks debauched, saliva on his chin and lips, hair wild. It makes his cock twitch again. Nico is looking down at him in awe, like he can't quite believe his eyes. And he's still hard in his boxers, a wet patch staining the grey fabric.

He wants to make Nico come, but moving is a lot harder than anticipated. His limbs feel like jelly and his eyelids are wet and heavy, so heavy. Nico rubs them lightly with his thumb.

"I can take care of it," he says, soft, and Marti knows what he means, but after Nico gave him such a mindblowing orgasm he's not going to let him jerk himself off. He opens his eyes and shakes his head, reaching up to stroke Nico's neck.

"No, I have an idea. But you have to get the lube."

Nico raises his brows and huffs, eyes sparkling with curiosity. He presses a kiss to Marti's hand and hops off the bed to head to the bathroom, where their toiletries and the lube they bought yesterday are.

Marti uses this precious break to take deep breaths, slow his heartbeat down, still coming down from the high. Why did they wait so long to do this, he thinks. He chuckles to himself, running a hand through his sweaty bangs.

It's been a minute and Nico still hasn't come back. He hears water running and he turns his head towards the bathroom, confused.

"Ni? What are you doing?"

A few moments later, Nico pops out of the bathroom with the bottle of lube in one hand and rubbing his chin with the other.

Marti furrows his brows at him, smiling in a silent question.

"Mouthwash," Nico says, climbing back next to him on the bed and kissing him. Marti snorts into the kiss, pulling back to roll his eyes at him.

He loves Nico so much.

"I would have kissed you anyway."

"Oh?" Nico whispers. He drops the lube by Marti's side to grab his face and kiss him again.

The mood is quick to shift again when he remembers that Nico hasn't gotten off. He reaches down between them and slips a hand in his boxers and Nico's whole body curls into his touch, Nico gasping on his lips. He keeps kissing him as he uncaps the lube and drags Nico's boxers down to mid-thigh.

Nico doesn't seem to have figured out what Marti wants to do. When he takes Nico's hand and squeezes a bit of lube on his palm, his brows furrow. Marti holds his gaze as he grabs his wrists and guides it to the inside of his thighs, and Nico exhales shakily.

Nico is not the only one who knows how to cater to the other's unspoken desires. It's something they both do, naturally, willingly.

"Marti," he says, and it sounds like a question, but he has already given him the answer.

The best way to do this is to lie on their sides, he thinks, so Marti turns and Nico follows, pressing his chest to Marti's back. Nico wraps his arm around his middle and lubes up his inner thighs with his other hand, kissing his neck, the freckles on his shoulder blades, and Marti turns his head to catch his lips, and nods.

The first thrust is hesitant. Marti squeezes his thighs together and Nico groans against his skin. He pulls back and thrusts back in, and Marti sighs, closing his eyes.

It feels good for him too, Nico's dick rubbing the underside of his balls, his thighs red and sore, and it's almost too intense after coming only minutes earlier. He clutches Nico's hand and holds.

There's just enough friction, Nico gasping behind him, fucking himself between his thighs. He clutches him closer as he finds his rhythm, head bent against his back. Marti squeezes even more, and soon Nico's thrusts become more erratic, and Marti encourages him, rocks back into him.

He's been waiting for this even longer than him, selflessly giving Marti pleasure, and now he gets to come, and Marti has given this to him. He reaches back around Nico and pulls him closer, closer.

On the last thrust, Nico pulls back, groaning and finishing off in his hand against Marti's back. He's panting, breath hot on his skin, and Marti holds him, watches him come down with his head turned as much as he can, lets him take his time.

Nico wipes his hand on the sheets and wraps his arm back around Marti's waist and chest. He doesn't know how long they stay like that, absentmindedly caressing each other. Lazy, comfortable.


"Ni," he whispers, and Nico turns him in his arms with a hand on his hip. He kisses him, smiling into it.

"This was...", Nico mumbles, shaking his head. Marti giggles, they both do.

He was thinking the same. Incredible. But he wasn't going to say it. Leave it to Nico to actually be this corny.

Nico rests his forehead against his and breathes, opening his eyes to look at him. The corners of his mouth curl up lazily, eyes soft and full to the brim with love. Marti knows he has the same look in his eyes.

"I love you," he says.

Nico smiles, eyes crinkling. He tucks a curl behind his ear, kisses him softly.

"I love you, too."

"We need a shower," he whispers, and Nico laughs, head bobbing with it.

"And clean sheets," he adds. He rests his head on Marti's shoulder, snuggling up to him as Marti stretches his arm and grabs his phone to check the time.

He has a few Instagram notifications, comments on his new post from Filippo and Eva, a direct message from Elia that just says bring me some jägermeister.

He snorts and locks his phone again, playing with Nico's hair.

"You want to go to dinner?” Nico asks. “In Schöneberg?"

They went there yesterday too, in the gay neighborhood of Berlin, and it was like a breath of fresh air. He didn't know that walking hand in hand with Nico down the street and kissing him in a bar would feel like stepping on the Moon.

"Yes. I want to show you off," he jokes, but behind every joke lies a bit of truth.

He wants to have dinner in a restaurant where the waiter will take their orders and Nico will order for him too and call him his boyfriend, and he wants to take him dancing where no one will judge them for how close they are standing, and make out on the dancefloor.

Nico's face splits in a grin, and Marti leans down to kiss him, again. Pulling back, he tangles his legs with Nico and closes his eyes.

"No rush, though."