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Friday evening found Gabi pedaling away on his bike, happily whistling a nonsense little tune, football bag slung haphazardly over his shoulder. The cool evening air and the steady motion of his legs were a welcome change from the earlier part of his day spent behind a desk. It had been a rather exhausting day between his early classes and his internship, and there’s only so much an early-afternoon double espresso can do to spice up the monotony of physics lectures and hacking away at a spreadsheet for several hours. The grid lines were practically permanently imprinted in his eyeballs by now, and all he had to show for a day’s work was several pages of increasingly erratic doodles punctuated by an errant formula or two.
But tomorrow was Saturday – no early classes and no internship. And tonight, the only thing that mattered was football. Gabi’s Friday night club games had become a lifeline as he’d settled into life in a new city, the familiar rhythm of play and the shouts across the pitch in a harmonious medley of languages both a reminder of home and a welcome way to anchor him in his new community. His team was a ragtag little group of expats, mostly students like Gabi, rounded out by the guy from Isack’s building whose legendary FIFA skills hadn’t exactly translated to real life. Gabi’s skills weren’t much to write home about himself, he’d be the first to admit. But his boundless energy and willingness to run headfirst into a challenge had found him a home on the front line. How many goals had that gotten him? Well, that was between him and his team, and three years in they’d forgive practically any mistake from the bubbly Brazilian and his wayward right foot, whether deserved or not.
Tonight, Gabi pedaled toward the field like a man on a mission, weaving through the usual evening crowd of dog walkers and families with strollers with a cheerful determination. Tonight’s game would be a struggle, to say the least, Gabi’s team hoping to leave with their dignity intact, if not the scoresheet. The corporate teams were always a toss-up, some mostly there for the pints at the end and other teams sporting matching kit with clever names who looked like they’d all been collegiate athletes. It was engineers tonight, really the worst sort, a team they’d faced and lost to several times already. Fucking ruthless, all clinical precision and smile while you do it, too.
But it didn’t hurt, did it, that they had a defender that was just about every one of Gabi’s fantasies all put together, all tall and blond with a quick smile and even quicker reflexes. Nico, Gabi would later learn, but his team called him Hulk. Surely that wasn’t his real name, enough consonants for a German but it was a little on the nose, wasn’t it? The man certainly had the build for it, Gabi could tell you. Oh, could he tell you. The first time Nico had laid him on his ass, Gabi had thought he’d died and gone to heaven, Nico looming over him like an angel, a very sweaty, very German angel wearing a wicked grin and a faded Thomas Müller jersey under his red pinny. It’d been game over for Gabi at that moment, like a final dagger at ninety plus five, no turning back now. Nico’s warm hand surrounding his as he hauled Gabi back to his feet, his cheeky “Careful, kid,” echoing in Gabi’s brain and his grin lighting Gabi up somewhere … else. And the tackle had been all ball. Of course it was.
Today was the day they would finally talk, Gabi reminded himself as he reached the field and spotted that familiar head of blond hair amongst his teammates, already circling the pitch like sharks waiting for first blood. He’d say something a little more interesting than a begrudging “good game” in the handshake line, be a little more smooth than the moon-eyed stares he’d been aiming in Nico’s direction for months to Ollie and Isack’s incessant delight and ongoing teasing. Look, he gets it, he really does. The guy is old, or whatever, totally out of Gabi’s league at the end of the day, no reason for him to be interested in someone with Gabi’s frankly shocking level of coordination and curls that looked like they’d heard the word routine once and ran for the hills. That’s what Gabi told himself, at least. No use getting worked up over a never gonna happen, but the guy’s shoulders were so deliciously broad, and his biceps were just so … and if he could just get a hand in that perfectly arranged blond hair and –
Anyway, football first, Gabi resolved, braking abruptly as the sudden sight of the field caught out his wandering mind. He would find a way to talk to Nico later, he convinced himself, pushing down the nerves clanging in his ribcage. He added his bike to the growing pile at the side of the field, ready to meet his friends and get warmed up. The flood lights had come on as the sun settled below the horizon, sending everything beyond the pitch into an inky darkness. The scent of fresh grass and the clamor of voices echoing across the field added to Gabi’s growing excitement. God, he loved Fridays.
***
How’d the game go? Just about how you’d expect. Their defense was like a brick wall, surely they’d had more than eleven players on the field at some point, for the sake of Gabi’s ego at least. You couldn’t even complain about them parking the bus, because even their midfield had scored a few times, able to get from one end of the field to the other practically without breaking a sweat. Maybe the loss was expected, but Gabi’s team had gotten one in at least. A brilliant strike from Ollie that – for a little while – would quell Gabi’s mostly good-natured irritation at him for playing way too high up. He can’t count the number of times he’d had to yell at him to get back, for God’s sake, but all was forgiven for now. Gabi had had a few promising moments during the game, he had, but their keeper was like Spiderman, all six feet tall and French, too. Some guys really had it all.
Gabi had kept his cool against the beautiful German guy, mostly. He’d never been one to back down from a little friendly pushing and shoving, or a few choice words exchanged when the ref couldn’t see. But he clammed up around Nico, unable to think of a witty reply to Nico’s rare but embarrassingly effective shit talking until the other man was halfway down the field again, leaving Gabi a complete mess, cheeks flaming and jelly where his legs should be. It really was pathetic, some guy how many years older telling him “Need to hit the gym, kid” in the middle of a morally dubious tackle was enough to throw Gabi off his game and spike his heart rate higher than any goal could. Embarrassing, surely, but the kind of embarrassing Gabi secretly craved, mind fabricating increasingly lurid scenarios when he couldn’t sleep at night, where a tackle would end in something slightly more salacious. Nico sliding in for the ball just like normal, but joining him on the grass instead of helping Gabi to his feet, checking if he was okay with a gentle hand on his cheek before …
Fuck, they were nearing the end of the handshake line and this is where his brain was going right before he’d have to confront the man himself. What really wasn’t helping was Isack, thumping him in the back and hissing Talk to him! Going for subtle and missing the mark by a mile, as usual. As Nico approached, Gabi blindly reached his right foot behind him, stomping with appropriate vigor on his loudmouth friend’s boot. Ignoring Isack’s squeak of discomfort, Gabi stuck his hand out to meet Nico’s. He had something over him in one way at least, he noted absentmindedly, his – too sweaty – long fingers curling gently around Nico’s surprisingly slender hand. They looked good together, Gabi thought, tracing up the other man’s forearm with his eyes before a gentle chuckle shook him out of his reverie.
“Going to let me go?” Nico asked, smirking, blue eyes flashing like he could tell exactly what Gabi was thinking. Gabi yanked his hand back, fumbling for a moment when he realized his soccer shorts didn’t have any pockets.
“I’m gonna get one past you someday,” Gabi blurted, taking the first thought that came to his mind and running with it.
“I can’t wait,” Nico replied, grinning, grabbing his water bottle from the side of the field and sitting down on the sideline, long legs stretched out before him. He sounded rather genuine, Gabi realized, pleased. They were off script now, though, right off the bat. No familiar trash talking to hide behind. Gabi pondered his next move, slowly realizing the increasing awkwardness of standing while Nico was sitting. The other man was drinking his water without a care in the world, annoyingly composed, the few drops of sweat sliding down his throat the only sign he’d worked hard. Gabi, on the other hand, felt like he’d just ran a 10K flat out, breathing rate still elevated. But, that was probably not so much the fault of the game, but rather the extremely handsome man sat right in front of him, legs splayed open with one leg pulled up. Those shorts didn’t leave a lot to the imagination, did they, especially not when they were damp with sweat.
Damn it, he was lingering now, wasn’t he? Probably stood there with a stunned look on his face when he should’ve been drinking his own water, chatting with his friends, or any number of things that didn’t involve staring longingly at someone doing something as mundane as sitting on the ground. Nico was looking up at him now, sporting that little half-smirk that had played a starring role in some of Gabi’s most erstwhile thoughts.
Slowly, Gabi realized the other man was gently patting the grass next to him, inviting Gabi to sit down beside him. God, how long had he been doing that? No matter, Gabi wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth now. He sat down next to Nico, stretching his long legs out, wincing a bit internally at how skinny his looked in comparison to Nico’s.
“Gabi, right?” the older man asked, smiling. “Nico,” he added in response to Gabi’s nod of affirmation.
“Why does your team call you Hulk, then?” Gabi asked, true curiosity getting the better of him. “Besides the obvious,” he added before he could think better of it, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of Nico’s torso.
“Nothing to do with that,” Nico replied with a light laugh, “It’s part of my last name.”
Before Gabi had the time to recriminate himself for alluding to Nico’s … everything for absolutely no reason, the other man carried on, explaining in a gentle tone how he’d met his teammates. He looked out over the field as he talked, giving Gabi the opportunity to study his profile, the handsome curve of his jaw and his muscular neck. He was … nice, Gabi realized, listening to the fondness in Nico’s voice, squirming a bit on the grass and occupying his hands with his water bottle.
“What about you?” Nico asked, looking over at Gabi with that disarming smile, “How’d you meet them?” he finished, nodding at Gabi’s friends down the field who were actually, bless them, doing a very good job for once of feigning interest in something other than Gabi’s painfully embarrassing crush.
How he managed to string a full sentence together, Gabi would never know, but he did. And then some. It must’ve been the combination of nerves speeding up the pace of his already flustered brain and the warmth he saw in Nico’s eyes. Like there was nowhere else he’d rather be than listening to some kid talk while sat on a football field at 10:00 on a Friday night. He didn’t hold back from teasing Gabi, despite barely knowing each other, able to slide in a gentle jab before Gabi realized what was happening. He was on the back foot, Gabi knew, but it felt strangely good, and he found himself breathless and giddy from the attention as the minutes slipped by.
More than an hour had gone by before Gabi realized it, barely noticing both of their teammates leaving one by one. He had long since stopped worrying about how smooth he came across, Nico had plenty of that for the both of them, Gabi had come to find out. He’d get pissed at Ollie or Isack for making fun of him for missing a cross or fumbling a pass, but with Nico it felt like a precious sign of his attention, like maybe he’d been watching him too, and liked what he saw, somehow. It made Gabi reckless, knocking his knee against the other man’s, letting his eyes linger for far too long on Nico’s arms, his throat, and even his mouth. It took all his daring to do it, skin burning, heartbeat thumping erratically, to let Nico see it, read the attraction right off his face like an open book.
He’d gone a little crazy, hadn’t he, flirting with – no, let’s be real, shamelessly throwing himself at someone like Nico. Older, more put-together than Gabi would ever be, effortlessly calm, and so unbelievably handsome. It was a strange feeling, an electric mix of embarrassment and desire that lit him up from the inside, made him want to both lean closer to Nico and touch and never show his face in front of the other man ever again. He’d keep that to himself when he told Ollie and Isack what had happened, they’d never need to know how shameless he’d been. God, they’d lose their minds when they found out what he and Nico had – wait, he was getting ahead of himself.
Was it brave to throw himself at Nico, or just stupid? He was either – God willing – about to have the best night of his life, or get let down so gently the embarrassment would feel even worse than an outright rejection. It’d be the end of Friday night football, surely, but Nico would be unfailingly nice about it, wouldn’t he? Not mention Gabi’s age, point out the countless other reasons they weren’t a good fit, not the least that Nico’s body was straight off the cover of GQ and Gabi looked like … this. All ridiculous curls and gangly limbs.
But he really wasn’t imagining it, he didn’t think, that Nico was responding in kind, the blue of his eyes eclipsed by black the closer Gabi got. His voice pitched even lower as he needled Gabi again, all too familiar for their first real conversation. No, he wasn’t imagining it, Gabi was certain, stomach a mess of nerves as he placed a hand on Nico’s knee. A friendly touch, really, but he kept it there, watching Nico’s face with trepidation. He wouldn’t feel his hand shaking, would he, no, Nico was smiling even brighter now, leaning closer like he wanted to –
Before Gabi could react, the floodlights shut off with an ominous click that echoed across the field with an air of decisiveness finality. They’d overstayed their welcome, Gabi guessed, too caught up in the little game they were playing, each teasing comment pushing them closer to what seemed to be the inevitable conclusion of the night. God, Gabi hoped so. He still didn’t really get it, what Nico saw in someone like him. But he’d know by the end of the night, that’s for sure. He’d learn in painstaking detail, actually, but for now, all he had ahead of him was the ardent hope that Nico would indulge his fumbled request to –
“Do you wanna go back to my place” Gabi blurted out, darkness obscuring the immediate shock flashing across his face at his own forwardness. “Somewhere we can … keep talking,” he added belatedly, in case Nico really did want an out to let Gabi down easy, pretend he didn’t see the desire Gabi was projecting so obviously you could see it from space. From the moon, at least. No hiding behind the darkness, now. Not for one Gabi Bortoleto, all wide eyes, pink-painted cheeks, and fumbling hands, seconds away from tipping the balance from cautiously hopeful to absolutely mortified as he scrutinized Nico’s distressingly placid face for any sign of what he was thinking.
“Yeah?” Nico replied, smirk cranked up to ten and then some, “You want to … talk?” he added, raising a gentle hand and pushing an errant curl away from Gabi’s eye before respectfully returning his hands to his own lap.
“Let’s go to my place,” he suggested, that devastating smile never leaving his face. “Somewhere you can be … as loud as you want to be.”
It cut straight to Gabi’s core, that. Nico knew. Oh, he absolutely knew. And through some wild twist of fate, he wanted it too.
“Yes,” Gabi agreed, “Let’s do that,” cutting himself off before his traitorous mouth could tack on anything more embarrassing, getting to his feet with an eager hop. His muscles protested sharply, pins and needles setting in from being in one position for far too long.
“Eager, are we?” Nico asked, teasing, as he got to his feet, bumping his shoulder lightly against Gabi’s. His demeanor grew more serious as they walked together toward the pile of bikes that had slowly diminished to just two. Gabi wasn’t leaving an inch of space between them, forearm brushing Nico’s with every step, no sign he’d changed his mind. But he could sense Nico was hesitant, probably going to ask if Gabi was sure, hopefully not about to launch into some misguided attempt at pointing out their age difference and how maybe, just maybe, it was a bad idea. Gabi shivered violently, and it wasn’t from the cool night air, let’s just say that. Yes, Nico had no idea how misguided that would be, no idea at all.
“Nico, I want to,” Gabi said, before the other man could open his mouth, hoping his voice came across as decisive rather than painfully turned on. He ran the final few paces to his bike, Nico’s soft laugh echoing behind him. That was a sound he could get used to hearing.
***
By the time they arrived at Nico’s apartment, Gabi’s nerves were threatening to get the better of him. He’d done the impulsive part, but now the rest of the night loomed large ahead of him. The door clicked shut behind them, the quiet noise made significant in what it represented. Any second now, Nico would turn around, realize how nervous Gabi was, and surely put an end to his little fantasy that had somehow manifested its way into reality. This was totally new territory. They hadn’t exactly made it off the field in those late-night imaginings. Artistic license, and all that.
Turn around Nico did, but what came out of his mouth was far gentler than what Gabi thought he deserved. He smiled as he took in Gabi’s hands, which had been steadier before, Gabi would freely admit, nervous movement matching the steady thump of his heart.
“Make yourself at home,” Nico offered, waving a hand toward his living room, “I’ll get you some water.”
“And take a quick shower,” he added, grimacing down at the state of his clothes, rumpled from the game, grass stains down his whole left side, and still a bit damp.
That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all, Gabi realized, attention shifting rapidly from his own nerves to the quite frankly insulting prospect that Nico thought Gabi wouldn’t care for him like this, all sweaty and disheveled, hair falling out of place over his eyes. He was sure a squeaky-clean Nico would be just as delightful, but that wasn’t what he’d spent so much time thinking about, was it. No, he wanted to taste the salt when he ran his lips across Nico’s neck, got his hands up under his shirt, and –
“No!” Gabi said, the force of it catching them both off guard. “I mean, you’re good. Like this. It’s good,” he fumbled. Dredging the English words up from the small portion of his brain not currently occupied by the handsome man in front of him was becoming increasingly difficult.
“Yeah?” Nico teased, stepping closer and settling his hands at Gabi’s waist. “You like when things are a little … messy?” he asked, voice pitched low, thumbs pressing into Gabi’s hipbones with enough force to make Gabi shiver in surprise.
God, Gabi was going to be a total mess in about ten minutes if Nico kept this up. It was all he could do to huff out a disbelieving little laugh before clamping his bottom lip between his teeth, not trusting his own mouth at this point. He looked up at Nico from beneath his eyelashes, hoping to use his quite effective – or so he’d been told – doe eyes to wordlessly project to Nico the increasingly pressing need that they imminently make their way to his bedroom without having to come right out and say it.
Despite Gabi’s best efforts, Nico seemed content to just stand there, immune to the other man’s wordless pleading. Instead, he settled his hands more firmly around Gabi’s lower back, swiping his thumbs gently across Gabi’s hips. He was looking Gabi right in the eye with an infuriating little smirk. He was going to make him say something, wasn’t he, Gabi realized, heat creeping up his neck and into his cheeks.
“Nico,“ Gabi tried, “Can we …” He paused, words getting the better of him again. Nico was so cocky on the pitch, Gabi thought, he should’ve known the older man would be just the same now. It was both annoying and unfairly attractive, Gabi realized, irritation flaring as he reached up to shove Nico weakly in the chest, a plaintive whine escaping him before he could stop it.
“Yes, Gabi?” Nico asked innocently. He wrapped his arms around Gabi’s upper back, bringing his lips to the sensitive skin below his ear.
“Do you want to get more comfortable?” Nico murmured, the sudden closeness and the huskiness of his voice sending a dart of pleasure through Gabi’s core.
“Can we, please,” Gabi choked out, grabbing Nico’s hand and starting off in the direction he hoped Nico’s bedroom would be. It was a lost cause, really, no use spending time trying to play it cool when Nico could freely tell from his fumbling hands and the state of his shorts how keyed up he already was.
Nico just laughed, tugging Gabi’s hand in the opposite direction, down the hall to his bedroom. It was as neat and composed as the man himself. Gabi took in the pristine navy blue sheets and stack of books on the nightstand, no clothes anywhere to be seen, probably folded all neat and tidy in their respective drawers. Nico had been right to come to his place, Gabi realized, a flicker of doubt creeping back in as he hesitated in the doorway. Before he could get too caught up in his embarrassment, Nico stepped by him, tracing a hand across Gabi’s lower back before launching himself onto the bed, clearly not concerned about messing up the neatly made sheets. He settled against the headboard, legs spread wide, one hand tucked casually behind his head as he patted the space next to him, waiting for Gabi to quit dithering and join him.
He could do one better than that, Gabi thought, might as well see if there was anything he could do to throw Nico off his game. Probably not, but it was worth a try. Ignoring Nico’s wordless suggestion, he approached the bed and planted one leg solidly alongside Nico’s thigh before throwing the other one over him. He settled firmly in Nico’s lap with a satisfied grin, prompting a soft noise of surprise from the other man before Nico got one hand in Gabi’s curls and brought their mouths together.
Nico kissed just like Gabi would’ve guessed, confident and just the right side of pushy. It felt grounding, in a way, the slick slide of their lips and the comfortable warmth of Nico’s legs beneath him something physical to tether himself to while he tried to put his brain back together. Tried to, being the thing. Nico was intent on executing something increasingly complicated with his tongue and the inside of Gabi’s bottom lip that was unspooling Gabi’s composure even further, dragging Gabi’s shirt up under his arms at the same time.
“Off, please,” he said, mouth tracing under Gabi’s ear again, his voice a low rasp. He pressed a line of kisses along Gabi’s collarbone as he helped Gabi tug his shirt over his arms. God, he was somehow everywhere all at once, kissing below Gabi’s jaw now before fitting the warm span of his hands just underneath Gabi’s ribs. Gabi squirmed, self-conscious, the narrow taper of his torso obvious under Nico’s wide palms, like Nico was trying to see how far around they could reach.
“Stop that,” Gabi demanded, shoving weakly at Nico’s hands, “I know I’m too …” He trailed off, finding the prospect of admitting his insecurities out loud unbearable. That wasn’t what they were here for anyway, was it, he scolded himself. Less talking, more tou—
“You’re strong,” Nico said, simply. He grinned, gripping Gabi’s waist tighter and pulling their hips together. “Do you know how hard I have to work to knock you off your feet?”
Gabi burst into a breathless laugh. “So you admit it!” he yelled, still giggling. “You were targeting me specifically, weren’t you, I fucking knew it,” he pressed, jabbing a finger into Nico’s chest.
“It’s just for fun,” Nico said, still smiling up at Gabi. “Not much of a threat on the ball, are you?” he goaded, digging his fingers into Gabi’s sides. Fuck, he was such a menace, Gabi should’ve seen this coming. He was holding on for dear life, stuck between breathless laughter and a shivery, squirmy sort of pleasure at being teased like this.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Nico continued – oh how fucking generous – tucking his fingers into Gabi’s waistband. “Take these off,” he ordered, low voice firm, tugging at the hem of Gabi’s shorts. “All of it.”
Gabi scrambled off the bed, doing what he’d been told without complaint before settling back onto Nico’s lap. Balancing himself with a hand on the headboard, he returned his attention to Nico’s mouth, biting gently at his lower lip, his other hand tracing along Nico’s jaw. He was grateful for the moment to close his eyes against the rising overwhelm of what they were doing, a delicious edge of shame crawling up his spine at being completely bare while Nico hadn’t even gotten his top off yet. It felt totally obscene, him all spread out on Nico’s lap with nowhere to hide, the evidence of how turned on he was completely obvious.
He grabbed at the hem of Nico’s shirt, hoping the other man would get the hint. He’d seen Nico without a shirt before – it hadn’t even been that hot that day, shameless, really – so he knew what was waiting for him, wanted nothing more than to rub himself against Nico’s abs and –
“Not yet,” Nico said. “Put your hands behind your back,” he added, tone gentle, hands rubbing reassuringly up Gabi’s thighs like he was leaving room for Gabi to back out if it was too much, too soon. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, tracing a finger across the muscles of Gabi’s stomach. Gabi swallowed, throat dry. He could feel the heat burning across his face and neck as he folded his hands neatly behind his back.
“Good,” Nico said, smiling up at Gabi. “Just a little longer.” He took Gabi in his hand, the languid slide of his calloused palm overwhelmingly good. He rubbed his other hand down the sensitive skin of Gabi’s inner thigh, the slow but relentless rhythm of his touch setting a fire burning in Gabi’s lower belly.
“You’re perfect like this,” Nico said, twisting his wrist in some wicked way that seemed purposely designed to get Gabi to fall apart as fast as possible. Gabi flexed his thighs against the feeling, suddenly getting the urge to look over his shoulder, or at the ceiling, anywhere but right into Nico’s blue eyes. He felt Nico’s fingers at the edge of his jaw as he turned his head, keeping him positioned steadily forward. Of course.
He was going to explode, Gabi thought, doing his best to keep his eyes open, literally going to explode. A Gabi shaped pile of embers would be all that was left. He’d read about that somewhere, he thought, breath coming faster and faster as he moved his hips through the hot clutch of Nico’s fingers. Surely this was why it happened, it’s just that no one ever said anything out of respect for privacy. It had to be. His skin certainly felt hot enough, burning everywhere Nico was touching him.
“Stop,” Gabi gasped, shuddering, the muscles of his core contracting almost painfully. “This is gonna be over way too soon if you – “
Nico laughed, not unkindly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He let Gabi go, swiping his thumb across Gabi’s cheekbone before returning his hands to Gabi’s hips.
“You’ve been on edge all night, haven’t you?” he asked. “Have you thought about this?”
It was so casual, like he was inquiring about tomorrow’s weather, not asking Gabi to divulge something like that, admit how much he’d wanted this, how much he’d thought about it after – during – their games. It was pathetic really, gagging over the hot older player, like something out of a shitty TV show.
But Nico didn’t wait for Gabi to answer, shucking off his shirt and nudging gently at Gabi’s legs so he could maneuver enough to get his own shorts off. Gabi sat back on his heels, staring openly as Nico lay back again, one knee propped up just like he had on the field. God, he was fucking stunning, all defined abs and corded muscle. Gratifyingly, he was just as hard as Gabi was, fingers twitching on his thigh like he was resisting getting a hand on himself.
Nico adjusted the rather spartan pillow behind his back, blue eyes clouded over with black as he watched Gabi. The only pillow, Gabi realized, suddenly impossibly endeared, far more endeared than one might imagine for having just been seriously considering face planting in Nico’s lap and running his tongue down the line of blond hair leading to his –
“Do you even care about being comfortable?” he teased, gesturing behind Nico. He situated himself back over Nico’s legs, lower this time, committed to giving Nico’s abs the attention they deserved. Nico was quiet for a moment, save a sharp breath here and there as Gabi traced his tongue over the ridges of muscle.
“I haven’t had any … guests … in a while,” Nico admitted, serious for perhaps the first time the whole night. Gabi raised his head, watching Nico’s face. He wasn’t blushing, definitely not, but he wasn’t quite able to meet Gabi’s gaze. “I don’t really do this,” he added, looking up at the ceiling.
God. That was unthinkable, someone like him. It was sweet, Gabi realized, heart thumping painfully, that he’d tell him that, not let Gabi keep thinking he was the only one severely out of his depth here. He squeezed a hand at the top of Nico’s thigh, ducking his head to hide the small smile on his face.
Emboldened by the unexpected admission, Gabi returned his attention to Nico’s body, running his hands across Nico’s sides to his thighs. His hands caught a bit, Nico’s skin still tacky with sweat from the game. It was just as good as Gabi had imagined, the tang of salt on his tongue and Nico’s scent surrounding him. He looked up again as he stroked Nico’s cock, fingers gentle, watching him clutch the sheets between his fingers as he bit his own bottom lip. He took Nico in his mouth slowly, starting a smooth rhythm that had the other man groaning softly above him, fingers running gently through Gabi’s curls.
The weight of him on Gabi’s tongue and the slick stretch at the corners of his mouth was so fucking good, his senses narrowed to the signs of Nico’s pleasure. Nico’s hands were tighter in his hair now, Gabi’s tongue curling across the tip of his cock, hot breath ghosting across the sensitive skin. Gabi continued the slick slide of his mouth, hands on Nico’s hips to guide him deeper inside, let him gently rock his hips in time with Gabi’s mouth.
“That’s so good,” Nico bit out, voice a low rumble, thighs tensing under Gabi. Gabi hummed around Nico’s cock, pleased, flattening his tongue against the underside and picking up his pace a little. Before long, Nico was grabbing his upper arm, sitting up and breathing heavily as he hauled Gabi back up the bed, positioning Gabi against the headboard and crowding against his chest. Nico kissed him again, lips a bit frantic and hand tight on his jaw, as he let Gabi finish him off with his hand. He spilled over Gabi’s chest with a low groan, eyes shut tight and thighs shaking.
Nico pulled back from Gabi’s mouth, still breathing heavily as he settled himself at his side. He traced a finger across Gabi’s lips before placing his hand at the base of Gabi’s throat, gentle pressure sending a spark up Gabi’s spine. He turned his face to watch Nico’s eyes. He felt exposed again, held down, chest shining with the evidence of what they had done, Nico’s gaze pinning him to the bed as much as his hand. He was so turned on it was almost painful, muscles pulled tight with the delicious shame at Nico seeing him like this.
“You don’t need a lot, do you,” Nico whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of Gabi’s mouth before looking him in the eye again. “Go on then,” he added, voice low, gazing at where Gabi was so unbearably, so obviously close to the edge. Gabi flushed hot instantly, nerves fluttering in his belly just like they had at the beginning of the evening. Surely, Nico wasn’t suggesting he… He bit his lip, eyes flying to meet Nico’s. He couldn’t do that, couldn’t bring himself to let Nico see that part of him.
“I … I can’t …” Gabi tried, still watching Nico’s face.
Nico’s eyes softened, and he ran his hand through Gabi’s curls.
“You don’t have to,” he said, gentle, “But I’ll know what you like for next time.”
Gabi gasped, caught off guard yet again by Nico’s unexpectedly sweet admission. The thought that Nico wanted to do this again, wanted him back in his bed, wrapped up in each other, was enough to steel his nerves. He tipped his head back, curling his fingers around his own cock, stroking himself with a brutally efficient pace that soon had him gasping against the knife edge of pleasure building in his core.
Gabi glanced at Nico, still shivery with nerves, and found the other man watching his face, pupils blown wide, focusing on the play of emotion and pleasure across Gabi’s features rather than the movement of his hand. It was so unbearably intimate, so unexpected, that it pushed Gabi over the edge. He spilled over his own fist with a low groan, curling forward with the force of it.
As the sparks faded, Gabi flopped over against Nico’s side, boneless. He was fucking finished. He didn’t know what the hell he’d done to deserve this, but it was even better than he’d imagined, somehow. He laughed to himself, he couldn’t help it, cheeks ablaze again, covering his face with his hands. He’d talked to the hot German guy, all right, and then some. Unbelievable. He chanced a glance at Nico, who was looking concerningly smug, probably set to open his mouth and tease Gabi within an inch of his life yet again. Not good, not good at all. There was only so much his poor heart could take tonight – and body, he realized, hopping to his feet and finding his legs not much interested in supporting him anymore. Traitors.
“About that shower,” Gabi blurted, successfully cutting Nico off. He stretched his arms above his head, sighing at the pleasant pull of his tired muscles. He watched as Nico grabbed him a towel from his dresser, handing it to him and explaining how to use the shower.
“I’ll get you something clean for sleeping,” Nico said, voice quiet. “If you want,” he added, looking away from Gabi. Gabi watched his profile, the slight clench of his jaw, and felt his heart turn over clumsily in his chest. Nico was tired, he realized, the now quite late hour painting shadows under his eyes, his earlier charm subdued. How could Gabi not want to curl up next to him, share the warmth of his bed, maybe tangle their legs together if Nico would let him.
Too much? Maybe. Gabi couldn’t bring himself to care. “Only if I get the pillow!” he teased, beaming at Nico before heading off to the shower, Nico’s quiet laughter echoing behind him.
***
Gabi woke up slowly, blinking against the light streaming through the curtains, brain stuck halfway between sleep and wakefulness. His limbs felt heavy from lack of sleep, and he shut his eyes against the light, hoping for a few more moments of rest. He lazily spread his arms out, feeling around for Nico’s solid presence. Not finding anything but the rumpled sheets, he cracked his eyes open again.
He sat up with a sigh, rubbing at his eyes. The bathroom door was open, which meant Nico was somewhere in the rest of the house. Of course he’d get up earlier. He’d probably already gone for a run or something, was probably sat at the kitchen table reading the newspaper or whatever guys his age did on a Saturday morning. Smiling at the mental image, Gabi dragged himself out of bed, scrubbing a quick hand through his hair with a sigh. Time to face the music, find Nico and deal with the awkwardness of figuring out what to say, how to leave.
A few steps from the kitchen was when the nerves decided to kick in, still just waking up themselves, apparently. God, hopefully Nico wasn’t just waiting for Gabi to leave. Sat there fully dressed while Gabi was just wearing shorts, having jettisoned his shirt sometime during the night. The man was a furnace, really, and – surprisingly – a relentless cuddler.
Gabi peeked his head in at the kitchen doorway. Maybe he could chance a run back for his shirt if Nico didn’t see him. But it wasn’t to be. Nico was standing shirtless at the kitchen counter, back to Gabi, mumbling softly at his coffee maker. Two mugs on the counter, two types of sugar and milk, two spoons. God. Was this how people always felt? Stuck somewhere between hopelessly fond and turned on, his eyes glued to Nico’s back muscles, the width of his shoulders, heart thumping at Nico’s thoughtfulness.
All thoughts of fetching his wayward shirt forgotten, Gabi stepped quietly into the kitchen. He stopped behind Nico, hooking his chin over the other man’s shoulder and sneaking both hands into the pockets of Nico’s joggers. He laughed quietly as Nico jumped, dropping his phone on the counter. What was he looking at? It looked like the upcoming club calendar, Gabi’s team specifically. Too slow, Gabi thought, beaming into the curve of Nico’s neck, as Nico fumbled to click the screen off. For once. He’d tease him about it later. For now, there were more important things to worry about. “Good morning,” he said, smiling as Nico turned to face him. He’d do his best to make that an understatement, Gabi decided, fingers tracing Nico’s jaw. He might not be the most coordinated, the most put-together, no chill at all when it came to the field or matters of the heart, but no one could say he wasn’t a hard worker.