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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

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It’s Dangerous To Fall In Love I: Strike the Match Now

Pairing: Nick Caldwel (Fire Meet Gasoline) x Female Reader, Nick Caldwel x Elena Ruez (Heidi Klum’s character)

Word Count: 10,491

Rating: M

Blanket warnings for this whole story: Crime, death, blood, injury, violence, abandonment, anger, sadness, mentions of jail/prison time, terminal illness, adultery, mentions of domestic violence and emotional abuse

Summary: The phone rings in the middle of the night, and it’s a call from someone you never thought you’d hear from again. And this isn’t just any call - it’s one that draws you into a situation that seems almost impossible to comprehend.

Author’s note: I watched the FMG video again the other night because I sent the link to someone, and pretty much before it was over, the gears were turning. I have no idea who will read or like this one... but it’s getting written and I hope some of you like it.

This is going to be darker than the other stuff I write - lots of heavy themes, so please pay attention to the warnings listed above. Not everything will be in play in every chapter, but I want you to know what you’re getting into.

The first chapter is just to see what kind of interest there is for this story - I’m 27k into it right now, so the whole thing should be done and posted relatively fast.

Honest feedback on this is appreciated. I am looking for questions, concerns and criticism. Don’t be afraid to reach out.

Thank you for reading.

It’s Dangerous to Fall in Love Masterlist

You had no idea what time it was, but you could hear that your phone was ringing in the other room. Eyes moving to the right, you squinted into the darkness, searching for the tiny glowing numbers on the alarm clock.

2:10 AM

Whoever this is better have a good reason for calling me. Before you could swing your feet out of the bed, the noise stopped, your phone going silent. Maybe it was a wrong number. But just as you had the thought, the sound started again, almost louder than it had been only moments earlier, even though you knew it was impossible.

The repeated call had you jumping out of bed, bare feet padding across the floor and out into the hallway as you made your way into the living room and to where you’d left the device. It was wedged between the pillows on the couch and when you picked it up, you saw that the person trying to reach you was doing so from an unknown number.

Your finger hesitated over the button and the screen went dark again, but the third call came almost immediately, the vibration and the sound making you gasp into the darkness. Answer it. If they’ve called three times, it’s important. “Hello?” Holding the device to your ear, you waited. And waited. And continued to wait - the only sound on the other end quiet breathing. “I’m going to hang up if you don’t -”

You froze at the reply, the sound - a single word - spoken in such a hesitant tone that at first you thought you’d imagined it. Calabaza. Only one person had ever called you that, and you hadn’t heard from him in more than a year. But the word was repeated, along with your actual name, and you dropped onto the couch, eyes closed and your fingers wrapped tightly around the device. Oh, no.

“Nick? Are you…” Your voice shook - and you hated yourself for it. “It’s two in the morning, I -”

“I need you.” You heard it then, the way his voice was shaking too, the slight catch at the end of the declaration. “I need… help.” He cleared his throat and then coughed, repeating your name. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have called. I don’t even know where you’re at right now, I …”

“I’m right where you left me, Nick.” It was a low blow, but you couldn’t help it. No matter what he was saying now, you still hadn’t forgiven him for what he’d done then, and you didn’t know if you ever would. “Where are you?”

“Arizona. Some motel called the El Rey.” He groaned. “I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry.” He went quiet, and you didn’t know what to say. Why is he calling me? “Thank you for answering.” The line went dead before you had a chance to respond, and you pulled the phone away from your ear, mouth hanging open.

“What the fuck?” Dropping the phone back onto the couch, you stood and began pacing around the dark room, both hands gripping your neck. Why did he call me? What did he want? The phone didn’t ring again, but a few minutes later, you stopped pacing, picking it back up and swiping your finger over the screen to unlock it. You could call him back - you had the number that he’d called from, but that seemed almost too easy, and you had no idea what to say. He said he needs help.

Biting down on your lower lip, you sat on the edge of the cushions, staring at the screen. If Nick was calling you after a year of radio silence - at 2 in the morning - there had to be a reason. And a really good one. Taking a breath, you clicked the Internet browser open, fingers hesitating over the search bar. He said he was at the El Rey.

It took a few minutes of searching, but when you found the motel on the map - over an hour away from you and in the middle of nowhere, you realized that Nick really did need help. There’s no way he’d stay somewhere like that. Unless…

Despite the uncertainty you felt about seeing him again after so long - and ending things on such bad terms - you had your shoes on and keys in hand by 2:30 … and were on Route 60 heading east only a few minutes after that.

—

Pulling into the parking lot, you realized that the place was nearly deserted - the only cars present aside from yours a small SUV parked near the rental office and a minivan with Kentucky plates in the center of the lot. It was a little before 4 am, and all of the lights in the rooms were off - except for one in the corner of the building. There was a faint glow coming from behind the curtains, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest at the sight. It’s got to be…

Even though you were almost certain that he was in that room, you still realized how terrible an idea it was to knock on a motel door at 4 am. So you lifted your phone, closing out of Google Maps, and pressed your finger against the screen over your most recent call. If he doesn’t answer, at least I can rent a room and sleep for a few hours. But the man did answer, your name hesitantly leaving his mouth as soon as he picked up. “I’m here, Nick. What room are you in.”

“You’re… what?” He sounded more alert, and you watched as another light flipped on in a different room, the door cracking open. Good thing I didn’t knock. “You’re here?”

“I see you.” Tears prickled in your eyes but you pulled the keys from the ignition and then used that hand to open the door, stepping into the darkness. “I’ll be right there.” Hanging up, you put your phone in your bag and slung it over your shoulder. As you crossed the silent parking lot toward the open door - the silhouette of the man illuminated from behind - you felt the tears beginning to fall, and you didn’t try to stop them. Let him see. Let him understand. Let him - When he came into focus, all thoughts of using your emotional state to get to him vanished, the keys falling from your hand and onto the ground. “Holy fuck, Nick, what happened to you?”

There was a scrape running the entire length of the left side of his face, that eye swollen and dark, and you could see that some of the man’s hair was wet and matted - more dried blood crusted on the locks and on the skin of his scalp, just at the hairline. He had a cut on the bridge of his nose, and even though it wasn’t actively bleeding, it looked deep. Holy shit, he needs a hospital. “I…” He winced, and your eyes moved to where his hand was gripping the doorframe, long fingers nearly white with the pressure he was using to hold on. “I can’t…”

You caught him as he fell forward, the man still clinging to the frame, but it took all of your strength to get him back into the room and to the bed, doing your best to ease the man’s body down onto the mattress. He was breathing hard, and when you finally stood, looking down at him you pressed your lips together to keep from crying again. “Nick, can you hear me?” He nodded weakly, the uninjured cheek pressed against the comforter. “I’m going to go across the street to that gas station and get some things.” Scanning the room to see if there was anything useful in it, you sighed. There’s nothing here. “A lot of things, actually. Is there a room key?”

“Dresser.” He rasped the word out, lifting one hand to point. “Careful. This isn’t… isn’t safe.” Yeah, you’re telling me. But it didn’t matter - he hadn’t been lying when he said he needed you, and so only a few minutes later, you were in the brightly lit Circle K, a basket hanging over one arm as you browsed the shelves for first aid supplies. There wasn’t as much as you would have liked, but you thought that what you found would work. After adding a few extra things - bottles of water and soda, some snack food, aspirin and a package of travel toothbrushes - you headed to the checkout counter, smiling brightly at the young man working behind it.

He rang you out without speaking, and when you’d crossed the street back to the motel, you stopped at your car and pulled your spare blankets out of the trunk, slinging them over your shoulder before using the key to unlock the door to Nick’s room. As you walked in, he struggled to a sitting position, one hand lifted to press against the side of his head and the other used for balance. “Who the -”

“It’s just me.” Swallowing hard, you hung the blankets over the back of the chair near the small table before turning to face him. “I need you to stand again, Nick. Need to get you to the bathroom.” He nodded and struggled to his feet, and without thinking twice, you stepped next to him and urged him to drape an arm around your shoulders, the two of you hobbling the few feet across the room and into the smaller area.

Surprisingly, the bathroom was the cleanest - and most modern - part of the motel room, and when he was seated on the toilet, you told him to close his eyes because you were going to turn the light on. “S’all right. I’m -” But he winced at the brightness, and you shook your head as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. I fucking told you.

In the light of the bathroom, you saw that the wound on the side of his head was smaller than you’d thought, but still not tiny, and his eye was swollen, but only on the outside corner. It could be worse, but what the fuck happened? “I’m gonna clean you up, alright? It’s probably going to hurt, but…” He nodded, the movement slight, and so you spun away, carefully lining things up on the back of the toilet and what little flat space existed on the sink.

You wanted to know what had happened, but couldn’t find the words to ask, instead focusing on each task at hand. Wet a towel. Add a small amount of antibacterial soap. Clean the side of his face. Wet the towel again. Wipe the blood from his neck, where there was a large, dark bruise that looked at least a few days old that curved around his jaw. Wet a different towel. Carefully dab at the wound on his head Repeat with the one on his nose. It was methodical, and it allowed you to push your other thoughts to the side, only wanting to be sure that you were doing everything you could to ensure that the wounds didn’t keep bleeding - and that they were as clean as you could make them.

He hissed in pain when you dabbed gauze that was soaked in hydrogen peroxide against his temple, but you gasped and jumped back when one of his hands shot out, settling on your hip and squeezing, his grip nearly as tight as it had been on the doorframe. “Nick, wh-”

“Fucking hurts.” He winced, but didn’t pull his hand back. “I -”

“Please don’t touch me.” You fought to keep your voice even as you spoke, continuing to dab at the gash on his head - which was still slowly oozing blood. “Just, please… not like that.” He dropped his hand immediately, clasping both of them together in his lap, and for the next ten minutes, Nick didn’t speak while you worked, the set of his shoulders rigid.

He probably needed stitches on the side of his head, but there was nothing that you could do about that, instead choosing to close the area as best as you could with butterfly bandages. That’s all I can do for now. Letting the towel fall from your hand, you reached for the bottle of aspirin, twisting the cap off and pouring four of the pills into one palm - and then into Nick’s waiting hand. After that was reclosed, you knelt down and pulled out a bottle of water, taking the time to unscrew that lid, too. He swallowed, wincing as he did, and handed the water back to you.

“Why did you come?” His voice was stronger, but you still heard uncertainty in it. “Why -”

“Because you said you needed me, Nick. Reaching up, you used the heel of your hand to rub at one eye. “And because even after all this time and what you did, I can’t fucking say no to you.” The words tumbled out with a laugh, but you were close to tears again, exhaustion taking over for the adrenaline you’d felt from the moment he’d called. “Do you know what time checkout is here?”

“Noon.” He sniffed, still sitting in the same position - legs spread, hands hanging between them. “Why?”

“Because I need to fucking sleep. And so do you.” Abruptly turning, you headed back into the main room. There was a bloody spot on the comforter that you hadn’t noticed before, and though you didn’t know if it was from the initial injury, or from where the man had lain after, it didn’t matter, because it wouldn’t be used.

Stripping the comforter from the bed and tossing it into the corner - and on top of a bloody towel that you hadn’t noticed earlier, you made sure there was no blood on the sheets before moving your blankets from the chair to the bed. “You can have the bed.” He was unsteadily making his way from the bathroom toward you. “Just give me a blanket, and I’ll sleep on the fl-”

“I didn’t just spend an hour driving here and twenty minutes cleaning you up for you to sleep on a motel room floor.” You sighed. “We’ll share the bed. Just…”

“I know. Keep my hands to myself.” He still hadn’t met your eyes, instead keeping his head tilted downward. “Got it.” At his tone, you felt a pang in your chest, mentally telling yourself not to listen to his tone, not to let it get to you. You’d done your good deed, and once you got a few hours of sleep and a quick explanation, you’d be on your way home, Nick headed back off to wherever he wanted to be. And it’s more than he deserves.

It only took a few minutes for you to get settled, checking to make sure the door was locked and that your alarm was set and your phone was within reach before you climbed into the bed, rolling so that your back was to the man in the dark. You listened to his quiet breathing, wondering if he was in pain, but didn’t ask, instead letting your mind wander to the before - to the way things had ended, to the shock you’d felt when he’d told you he was leaving. And here I am, a year later, still…

“Thank you.” It was so quiet that you weren’t sure that he’d actually said it, but then Nick spoke again after clearing his throat. “I know you probably didn’t -”

“Just go to sleep, Nick. The sun’s coming up. Say whatever it is when we wake up, unless …” You trailed off, and then decided that he deserved to hear what you’d been about to say. “Unless you’re going to be gone when I open my eyes.” He didn’t reply for a long time, but when he did, his voice was closer - almost like he’d rolled over to face your back.

“I’ll be here.”

—

When your alarm went off, it was like you hadn’t slept at all. Groaning, you rolled onto your back, mindful of the fact that Nick was in the bed next to you, but when you opened your eyes, you were alone. It figures. When you sat up, though, you heard the water running in the bathroom, along with a few quiet thunks that sounded like someone picking up and setting things down. So he didn’t leave.

You got out of the bed, reaching behind you to start folding your blankets, but before you finished the door opened and Nick walked back into the room. He was steadier on his feet than he had been the previous night, and he’d changed clothes - a clean t shirt and new pair of jeans covered him, his hair damp in places and pushed to cover as many of the wounds as possible. There was no way to cover his cheek, though, and no way to hide the black eye - which looked worse than it had hours earlier. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.” The bed between you, Nick said your name again, and unlike the previous night, there was no waver to it. “Please look at me.” Reluctantly, you did, raising your eyes to meet his for the first time, and even though it had been a while and the man’s face had changed, his eyes were still the same. Still a warm, rich brown. Still full of emotion. Still discerning, the man looking through you without even trying.

And you hated it.

He had no right to look at you that way - not after what he’d done. Not after what he’d put you through, or how he’d hurt you. “What?” Head shaking back and forth, you closed your eyes. “What, Nick?”

“Thank you for coming.” He put both hands into his pockets, clearing his throat. “I mean that. I know that I’m probably the last person that you want to see these days, but I had no one else. I don’t… yours is the only number I remembered.” That hurt - that the man had defaulted to calling you because he’d cared enough to memorize and remember your number, but he’d only used it when he was in need of something. Not because he wanted to. Not because he … “There’s some money next to your bag, for the shit you bought last night. I looked at the receipt, and -”

“I don’t want your money. I don’t want anything from you.” Blinking back more tears, you covered your face with your hands. “Fuck, Nick. Why? Why now? Why are you here? Why did you -” Why did you have to reach out to me?

“I don’t have time to tell you everything right now. We have to be out of this room in fifteen minutes.” He wet his lips, the lower one trembling slightly. “But there’s a … a Denny’s down the street. I can… I can tell you some of it, if you want.” You did. You wanted to know … but at the same time, you weren’t sure if he deserved it - your time or attention, your patience. “Fuck it. Nevermind. I’ll just -”

“Denny’s is fine.” You looked around the room. “You can have all the medical stuff, Nick. I don’t need it, and you probably will.” You heard him laugh, the sound quiet - almost pitiful, but he didn’t disagree, turning back to the bathroom and emerging a few minutes later with the plastic bag of supplies and setting it down on the bed. Bending over, he reached beneath the nightstand to pull out a small duffel bag, unzipping it with one hand.

He packed quickly, and while you waited, you went into the bathroom, using the remaining toothbrush to clean your teeth, fingers combing through your hair as best they could. You look better than he does. It was a cruel thought, and so you pushed it to the side, scanning the small room for anything that the two of you missed, surprised to see that the bloody towels were gone, too, along with the trash from cleaning his wounds earlier. Strange.

By the time you were back in the bedroom, Nick had folded the comforter, stripping the bed down to the bare mattress, and you realized that he’d done it to hide the bloodstain. What the fuck is going on? The towel in the corner was gone, too, the room as clean as it likely had been when he’d arrived, and there was nothing else to do but walk out of it and into the parking lot, the bright sunlight making you squint. “Do you want me to walk?” He slung the bag’s strap over his shoulder, one hand on his hip. “It’s not very far.”

“I’ll drive you, Nick.” Motioning for him to follow you to your car, the two of you started walking, though you didn’t say anything else.

—

He didn’t know what to say to you, and even though the steaming cup of coffee in front of him didn’t contain any of the answers, Nick couldn’t stop staring into it.

He still wasn’t quite sure how or why you were there - yes, he knew that he’d called you, but he hadn’t actually expected you to show up in the middle of the night, or to help patch him up. I don’t deserve it. At all.

He knew how bad he looked - could only imagine what you’d thought upon seeing him for the first time as he lurched through the door at you, but he also knew that it could have been much worse. I could have bled out. I could have … Wincing, he took another drink and then turned his head toward the main windows, eyes on the street.

He wondered where she was - wondered how far she’d gotten in the truck before it ran out of gas and she had to decide what she wanted to do - use cash to fill the tank or risk using a credit card so far from home. It didn’t matter if she abandoned the vehicle; they’d never tie it to him, since he’d been borrowing it from one of the few friends that he’d made in Texas, and that man’s name was on the registration, his fingerprints and a dozen others all over the inside of the cab and the body of the vehicle.

Not only that, no one in Texas had known Nick’s real name, the man falling back to what he’d done in his early 20’s at bars and using a fake one - his brother’s middle name as his first, his mother’s maiden name as his last. So much fucking lying. He hadn’t even told her what his real name was, and she hadn’t questioned it. In hindsight, it made sense that she’s hadn’t pressed, but at the time, Nick just assumed that it was because she trusted him.

“So are you going to say anything, or am I going to have to start talking to my toast?” Your voice interrupted his thoughts, and Nick immediately looked up, prepared to see you looking in his general direction but not at him. But you were staring, eyes focused on his face, and Nick sucked in a breath at the sight of you, even though all he’d been doing since you approached his room door was staring.

“What do you want to know?” Twisting the fork between his fingers, he shrugged. “Where do you -”

“Just tell me what happened to you.” You sipped through your straw. “Yesterday, or whatever led up to that.” You didn’t want to be there - it was clear to him, and probably to anyone else in the restaurant, but you weren’t trying to leave. And that means she really wants to know.

“I… met someone.” He swallowed hard, finally looking away from you. “About six months ago. I was in Texas, working on a road crew, and stopped at a bar after work for a drink. She was there. And it all… it happened real quick.”

“Congratulations.” Your tone clipped, you went on. “How’d that lead to you getting into a fight? Did she have a boyfriend? A husband? A -”

“She had a husband. Ryan.” Bending his arms, he rested his elbows on the table, threading his fingers through his hair and ignoring the throbbing on one side of his face. “I knew it from the beginning and …” You swore under your breath and called him an asshole. It made him wince, but he knew you were right - he was an asshole, and for more reasons than that. But it’s not the whole story. “She used me.”

“I’m surprised you stuck around long enough to let her.” You spoke without hesitation, but after the words were out you froze, leaning back in the cracked vinyl booth and staring. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I asked what happened, and I’m just being fucking rude about it.”

“I deserve that from you.” He took another drink, swallowing the slowly-cooling coffee from his mug. “But there’s more to it than that. She … Elena was married, but it wasn’t a good marriage. He was abusive, both physically and emotionally, and at first I thought she was just looking for a friend. My coworkers warned me to not get involved, but I couldn’t help it.” I should have been more careful. “I’d say hello if I saw her in the bar or around town. We had drinks a couple times, and because her husband left for work a lot, we… we didn’t have to be as careful.”

He continued his story, telling you how he and Elena had gotten to know each other, how they’d spent countless hours driving around the outskirts of the town they lived in while talking, how things had finally progressed to the point of no return - Nick kissing her and the woman not telling him to stop. It had been four months of absolute bliss, the thrill of doing something that he wasn’t supposed to be doing distracting him from how dangerous it would have been for both of them if Ryan had found out. He’d put her in the hospital a few times, though she’d explained the injuries as common household accidents when talking to the doctors, but Elena told him the truth. And I should have known that there was a reason for it.

“And then she came into the bar one night with two black eyes, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t handle it. She looked horrible, just .. defeated in a way that I hadn’t ever seen before.” Not from her anyway. He laughed. “I might be an asshole, but I wasn’t about to sit back and let someone get hurt like she was, and not try to do anything about it. He wasn’t… he wasn’t going to stop.”

“Did you go to the police?” Your tone had softened for the first time, a small frown on your lips. “Did she?”

“No. She wouldn’t. She was scared of him, and I can’t really blame her for that.” Nick looked around the restaurant and then dropped his voice. “What I tell you next is … I shouldn’t. But you asked, and …”

“Just tell me.” He could see in your eyes that you were anxious about what was coming next, but you’d leaned in, elbow on the table and chin resting on your hand. “Nick, just -”

“I went to talk to him. He really liked hiking, and left Elena alone a lot to go off on weekend trips, so I followed him one weekend and camped in the same place as him. Figured that we’d be around people but not around his people, y’know? Just wanted to let him know that he couldn’t keep hurting her without someone stepping in.” He knew that if he continued, there was no going back - you were either going to get up and walk out of the restaurant, or immediately pull your phone out and call the police. But I need to tell someone and I want it to be her. “He actually walked up next to me on one of the trails, tried to make small talk.” Nick laughed again, narrowing his eyes. “And I fucking let him have it. Told him that I knew who he was and what he was doing and that if he ever touched her again, he wasn’t gonna like what happened to him.”

Sneaking a glance at you, he saw that your eyes were wide, one hand covering your mouth. It gets worse.

“He laughed it off at first, said I didn’t know what I was talking about, and then when I reminded him of some of the shit he’d done to her - bruises and scrapes, a sprained elbow? The black eyes? He believed me. And he got pissed. He…” Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, tilting his head to the side so that you could better see the bruising on his jaw. “He attacked me. Got a couple good punches in, but … he knocked me over, onto the ground, and I just lost it.”

“Nick…” Sitting up straight, you let out a shuddering breath. “What…”

“He was bigger than me. I never wanted to fight him, but I had to. He hit fucking hard. And so I…” Twisting his fingers together, Nick forced himself to meet your eyes, needing you to see the look in them. “I reached for whatever I could find around me, and it just happened to be a rock. I hit him with it, just to get him to get off of me, and it worked. He let go and rolled away, but when he stood up, he wasn’t steady. He stumbled around a little bit, and then …” Fuck. “I didn’t think we were that high up, but we were. I reached for him, tried to grab him and keep him upright, but … he went over the edge. When I finally got up to see what happened…” He gripped the edge of the table, still looking at you. “He was at the bottom. There was no way he survived it, the whole fucking thing was rocks, and I could only see part of his body, but …”

“Did you tell anyone? Did you go to the park rangers? Police?” I should have. I should have, but I didn’t.

“I rook the rock and wrapped it in a towel and then shoved it in my pack and went to Elena. I didn’t know what to do, and when I told her - showed her the rock, explained what happened, she… she convinced me not to say a goddamn thing. She said ‘There are hiking accidents all the time, right? I’ve been here - been in the neighborhood the whole time, people saw me. I didn’t do it. And you … no one would suspect a thing because no one knows who you are.’”

“Jesus Christ, Nick.” Your arms were crossed over your chest and he saw anger in your eyes. “So you -”

“I told her what I did, and she said that we needed to run. She said that we needed to get out of Amarillo, take some time to figure out all of it, and I just… went with it.” Because all I do when shit goes bad is run.

“How long ago was this?” You’d pushed your plate away. “How many days ago did -”

“Five.” He swallowed hard again, unable to meet your eyes. “Five days ago is when she set fucking fire to her house and we drove away in the middle of the night.”

“She fucking what?” You shifted on the bench, covering your face with both hands. “This keeps getting fucking worse.” Yeah, it does.

“When I got to her house and told her, she got real quiet, and then just started packing. Told me to go and get my shit and come back. So I did. I went home and I packed a few things and I took pictures of my face, just because I wanted to remember, and when I got back there, the fucking house was on fire. We had no choice then. So we started driving. The plan was to make our way to Lake Mead, rent a boat, and drop the rock somewhere deep.” Saying it out loud made it sound worse than it had in his head, but there was nothing he could do aside from continue. “We got here yesterday afternoon, and something was wrong. Elena was … not herself. We ate dinner and started getting ready for bed, and she wouldn’t even look at me.” Here it comes, the part where you tell me that I got what was coming to me. “I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that … I’d served my purpose. That I got her out of her marriage and she didn’t need me anymore.”

“She attacked you?” You were leaning in again, a thoughtful expression on your face. “She did all this?”

“Yeah, she launched herself at me holding the same fucking rock, and all I could do was let it happen because I wasn’t going to fucking hurt her.” He’d put his arms up in defense, trying to get ahold of the woman’s forearms to stop her, but that had been it. Even after she’d smashed the jagged edge of the stone into his skin the first time, dragging it down over his cheek, he’d barely done more than try to shove her away so that he could run. Because I’m not like him. “She uh, she hit me a couple times with it, and the last one knocked me out. I woke up and she was gone. She took my truck, took all of her shit, took most of the cash that we had between us, and just … left.” It served him right, and part of him wished that he’d bled out on the motel floor, because he had no idea what the fuck he was going to do. But I didn’t. I wasn’t that lucky. “I woke up and it was the middle of the night, and I managed to get to my bag and my phone.”

“And you called me.” Fingers pressed to the space between your eyebrows, you squeezed your eyes shut. “You called me and now I’m in the middle of this, and -”

“I didn’t think you’d come. I was pretty fucking out of it, and I guess… I wanted to say goodbye.” That got your attention, eyes snapping up to meet his. “I figured I was either gonna die in that room, or I’d wake up to the cops busting in because she called ‘em.”

“Then why the fuck did you let me in, Nick? If they did come, and I was here, they would have thought that I was involved, too.”

“Because.” He smiled then - for the first time in hours. “Because now I know she isn’t going to call anyone.”

“How?” You looked like you were only a few seconds away from actual tears, and he felt the sudden urge to reach across the table, threading his fingers with yours and squeezing - like he’d done hundreds of times before. Before, when we were… “How do you know she won’t -”

“Because she took everything… but she left the goddamn rock. And now her fingerprints are all over it, too.”

—

Every word that came out of his mouth was more unbelievable than the last - and that’s how you you knew that they were all true. He didn’t lie to me. Ever. Even when he left, he didn’t lie.

His posture told you everything that you needed to know. The shame of having to tell you about the woman he’d met and been with, the anger he’d experienced at finding out that she was in a bad situation at home, the frustration with the man getting the better of him on the trail. You believed that he hadn’t meant to physically hurt Elena’s husband; Nick wasn’t a violent man, but defending himself - and the people he cared about - was important to him. The fact that she convinced him to run so easily is what makes me believe it all.

“Nick, I…” Mouth and throat dry, you took another drink, relishing the way the carbonated liquid felt as it slid down your throat. “Shit.” You didn’t know what else to say, and even though you were still angry at him - for leaving and for calling and bringing you into the mess that he was currently in - you found yourself feeling less so as more time passed. “What … why would she leave that?”

“I don’t know.” He scrubbed a hand over his chin. “Seeing me on the floor probably freaked her out and she just grabbed what she needed and went. Didn’t even think about it.”

“But didn’t… didn’t people see you check in together? Wouldn’t they have put it all together if…” You trailed off, thinking. The parking lot had been empty when you pulled in, and you hadn’t seen any security cameras anywhere. And if they were trying to be stealthy, only one of them would have gone to the desk. “How much money did she take?”

“A couple grand.” He wet his lips, eyes darting off to the right. “Most of it was hers, but some of it was mine. She left me my wallet, probably because it was in my back pocket, but…” Reaching for it, he thumbed through the billfold. “I’ve got about a hundred bucks, and my debit card.”

“But you can’t use that. If you’re on the run, people will -”

“About that.” Nick looked down, drumming his fingers on the table - an old nervous habit of his that had apparently not changed in the time he’d been gone. “I wasn’t… using my real name. She… everyone in Texas knew me as Charlie Walker.” What? “I didn’t think I was staying when I first got there, so I made up -” Wait.

“That’s your brother’s name.” Frowning, you blinked at him. “And your mom’s…” He nodded, and to his credit, you saw a little bit of remorse in his features, Nick’s gaze dropping back to the laminated surface of the tabletop. “What are you going to do, Nick?” There were a few other questions that you wanted to ask, but that one jumped out first, eyes fixed on the portions of his face that you could see. “Just keep moving?”

“I don’t know.” He looked back at you, raising and then dropping his shoulders. “Him going over the ledge could have been an accident. It happens all the time, people hike alone and get injured… you know that, it happens here, too.” Nodding, you stayed quiet. “So if she would have just stayed in the house, waited a couple days to say he hadn’t come back … it would have all been fine. But the -”

“Yeah, the burning the house down kind of ruins that, right?” You couldn’t help it - you laughed, the sound one of quiet disbelief. “You know what? I’m going to check something.” Pulling your phone out, you navigated to Google.

“What are you doing?” He sounded scared and you didn’t blame him, but instead of answering you just typed a few words and then scrolled through the results, clicking on one of them and skimming the article’s headline before sliding your phone over. “Oh. Oh, that… I wasn’t expecting that.” Me either.

The headline of the article - Hiking Accident Claims Life of Amarillo Man; Residence Goes Up in Flames From Suspected Arson - was interesting for two reasons.The first being that the man’s death was considered an accident and the second that the fire had already been investigated and questioned as suspect. “She tried to kill you. And at the very least, she hurt you and left you for dead. I… I think you should go back. I think you should talk to the police. You have… you have the rock. You clearly have injures. They can pull her medical reports as proof that the man was abusive. You didn’t… there’s nothing in this headline that says they think otherwise.”

“But I caused it. If I wouldn’t have been there, he’d still be alive, so -”

“The longer you run from it, Nick? The worse it will be. You always told me the truth. You always tried to do what you thought was the right thing, so why not do that now? Elena actually committed crimes, here. Arson. Physical violence. Theft. Yeah, she was a victim and it’s shitty that her husband was hurting her, but that doesn’t give her the right to frame you for all of this, especially when you only hit him because he attacked you.”

“The police won’t believe that. Maybe if I hadn’t run. Maybe if I’d gone straight to the park rangers. Maybe if…” He paused. “She didn’t force me to leave Texas with her. She convinced me, but I still… I went. Willingly.”

“Did you want to be with her?” You couldn’t keep the hurt from your voice, and you didn’t want to. “For good, I mean? What was the plan?”

“I don’t know. It all happened so fast. I… we talked about being together if he wasn’t around, but never … never about killing him. Never about … getting rid of him permanently, just …” He sighed. “There was no plan. There was no…” Nick trailed off and then said your name, focused on your face again. “I wasn’t… I’m not in love with her.”

You felt relief at that, the inexplicable emotion gathering in your chest and filling it quickly, his words landing exactly as he’d intended them to. Even after all the time that you’d been apart, the admission was a welcome one, and despite your reservations about the whole situation, you believed him. Again. I believe him and that probably says a lot more about me than about him, but… “I can’t tell you what to do, Nick. But I think… you can’t run from this. You shouldn’t run from this.” You shouldn’t have this to run from.

“I’m going to go back. I’m going to tell the police what happened.” You could see the conviction in his eyes - tell that he was serious, and for a few brief moments, you felt panic. At him going back and getting in trouble, or at losing him again? “I should have done it sooner.”

The feelings you felt at his words were something for you to unpack later - much later. Pulling your phone back and returning to the article, you read through it so that you didn’t have to respond right away, eyes widening as you made it to the third paragraph.

“What? What’s that -”

“He was alive when they rescued him, Nick.” Heart pounding, you kept reading. “According to this article, he told the EMTs he fell.” It had been a brief statement, according to the police, the man telling rescuers that he’d fallen, no mention of anyone else on the trail with him anywhere in the article. “He died while they did surgery trying to stabilize him, but…” Elena’s name was mentioned twice in the article - once as his wife, and then again as someone that they were trying to locate to question about the fire. “You didn’t kill him.”

He lowered his head at that, resting his forehead against both arms, and when you saw his body starting to shake, you moved without hesitation, taking the seat next to him and putting your arm around his shoulders. It was a small comfort but it seemed to help, and when he shifted, leaning his weight against you, you didn’t tell him to move or stop. He needs this. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, he needs… a friend.

When Nick had gotten control over his emotions a little while later, he sat up, taking a deep breath and rubbing his hand over the lower half of his face. “I’m still going to go back.” The man swallowed hard, turning his head to look at you. “I can’t… I can’t change what happened, but I can do my part to… take responsibility.” Chewing on his lip, Nick waited to see if you’d say anything. I want to, but I don’t know what to say. “My dad … it’s … he’d tell me to go back and do the right thing. Even if it means…” Jail. Prison. Time behind bars. You still had your arm around him, and at the realization you froze, the muscles tensing to the point that you knew he could feel it - but you didn’t pull it back, even though part of you wanted to.

The truth was that even though he’d left the way he had, even though he’d caused you an endless amount of hurt and embarrassment and heartbreak, you still cared about him. Part of you still loved him, even, and you knew that no matter what, that love would always exist. But I don’t want him to know that. “He would. And so would your mom.”

“I know. I talk to her a couple times a month.” That gave you pause - you’d spoken to the woman multiple times after Nick left, checking in to make sure that she was doing alright after the loss of her husband and the absence of her son. I knew she talked to him a few times right after he left, but… You’d initiated things at first, but as time passed, it was her that kept reaching out, inviting you over for lunch or coffee every so often, or simply making a phone call to check in.

Your friends and family had understood to a point what losing Nick had felt like, but Gina Caldwel had known - or so you’d thought. Because he was still in contact with her. And that means… “Did she tell you that we -”

“She did.” He gave you a small, tight smile, nodding. “I asked about you. I wanted to know that you were alright. I know what I did to you, but that doesn’t mean …” He trailed off. “It doesn’t matter. Telling you won’t change anything.” He looked away, back at the table and took another deep breath. “We should finish eating. You need to get back. I’m sure you had to miss a day of work today, and I don’t want you to miss another one. And I need… to rent a car and start driving back to Texas. If I drive straight through, it shouldn’t take me long.” He gestured to his food. “Kinda fitting, hmm?” What? “Our first date was at a Denny’s. You got out of work late, and everything else was closed.” Your throat constricted at his words - at the memories they brought up, but you couldn’t keep yourself from cutting in.

“You waited in the parking lot for me for an hour. I told you to go home, that we’d reschedule, but you -”

“I told you no way.” There was another smile on his face, his eyes warmer than you’d seen them at any point in the previous hours. “Said that you’d finally agreed to go out with me and I wasn’t gonna let you get out of it just because you worked late.” His hands were still on the table - he hadn’t moved them or even tried to touch you, just like you’d demanded of him in the bathroom the night before. You watched as his fingers twisted together, his right thumb pressing against the bullseye tattoo on his left hand - a sign that he was stressed. Of course he’s stressed. “Maybe I should have gone home. Then you wouldn’t be here right now, and I wouldn’t have to leave you for a second time, and I wouldn’t have risked -”

“Nick.” You reached for him with your left hand, settling it over both of his. “Listen to me.” He went quiet, waiting. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you, but that doesn’t mean that I wish none of this had happened.” Are you really saying this to him right now? He needed to hear it - and you needed to say it because you didn’t know if you’d have another chance. “I loved you. I was ready to marry you. We were happy. We had a lot of good years together, and just because they ended badly doesn’t mean that I regret them.”

“You -” Squeezing his hands, you continued.

“I don’t regret the time we spent together, Nick. I just wish that it hadn’t ended the way it did.”

—

He couldn’t believe that he was hearing the words coming out of your mouth, but more than that, he couldn’t believe that you were actually touching him. It wasn’t anything overly intimate - just a comforting arm around his shoulders, a hand atop his to halt the press of his thumb into the webbing of the other - but it was still more than he expected. More than I deserve.

He’d shocked himself by admitting as much to you as he had, by opening up to you and telling you about Elena and Ryan and the mess that had evolved out of nowhere in so much detail. And you’d listened, watching him intently as he spoke - not judging him in the way he knew most people would, but instead truly giving him a chance to explain, and no matter what happened in the future, Nick knew that he’d done the right thing by coming clean to you.

It hurt to talk to you about another woman that he’d slept with, just the same as it had hurt the first time his mother had informed him that you were dating someone, despite the fact that he had no right to be upset, because his absence was the reason for it.

There’d been a moment - a brief one - when your facade had cracked, and he’d both heard it in your voice and seen it on your face. Did you want to be with her? For good, I mean? It was a logical question, especially after he’d explained what he’d done because of Elena, but again his answer had been honest. He wasn’t in love with the woman, not even close. He didn’t even really know her - not after six months, not sneaking around and only interacting in private, aside from the few times she’d been in the same locations as him with her friends and they’d said hello. I thought I knew her.

He’d cared about her, that wasn’t in question, but the only woman he’d ever loved was sitting next to him for the first time in a year, and he was going to have to leave her again. To do what’s right. The information that he hadn’t directly caused Ryan’s death had been a relief, though it didn’t change much in the long run. The confrontation had been his doing, even though the first attack hadn’t. He’d reached for the man from his position on the ground, but it hadn’t been enough, and the man disappearing over the edge of the hillside would haunt him for the rest of his life. But he survived.

Nick didn’t know how or why, or what had caused Ryan to omit his presence on the trail when he’d been picked up by the EMTs, but it was also a relief. Because it means that when I go back and tell them what really happened, the stories match. And I have proof that he hit me. There’s proof that he hurt her, so him attacking me wouldn’t seem out of the question, especially if I confronted him and he figured out I was sleeping with …

The memory of Elena’s face flashed in his mind - her features twisted into a snarl that he’d never seen before as she screamed at him in the motel room, the way she’d taunted hum about his involvement in everything - the smooth motion as she’d reached into the bag for the towel-wrapped rock and swung it at his face … he couldn’t believe that things had gone so bad so fast. And they’re about to get worse.

Going back was the right call. Taking responsibility for his actions was what a good man would have done, and despite everything, Nick still considered himself a good man - at least when it came to people that weren’t you. She deserves to know. He thought of the letter he kept tucked into the front pocket of his duffel bag, the one that he’d written only weeks after leaving Arizona, the one that he’d never sent though he’d thought about it countless times. He thought about the words on the paper that he hadn’t seen in nearly a year but still knew almost by heart, the envelope it was in smudged by fingerprints from each time he’d pulled it out and contemplated dropping it in a mailbox.

He’d come clean about so much that even though he didn’t know if you’d care, he needed to tell you more before you disappeared back down the highway, driving out of his life and back to yours. You seemed genuinely surprised by the fact that he’d checked in with his mother, and he was thankful that she hadn’t spilled the secret to you, because up until Texas, Nick had been open about where he was and what he was doing. But I asked her not to, and she listened. He sighed, eyeing the interior of the restaurant, and decided to press his luck one more time. Because I have nothing to lose at this point.

It took you a minute to get back on the same page as him when it came to your first date, but once you remembered, he heard life coming back into your voice, the smile you gave him warming him from head to toe. He’d missed seeing you that way - looking at him with amusement instead of contempt and anger - and so of course he’d ruined it, letting his mouth run until you’d cut him off, putting your hand over his and assuring him that you didn’t regret him.

Even though he’d told you he was responsible for a man’s death. Even though he’d all but left you at the altar with an explanation that had made sense at the time but hadn’t stood up the longer he’d thought about it. Even though I called her in the middle of the night and dragged her into this. You were sitting next to him and showing him kindness, and it made the man want to cry. “Hey.” He nudged you with his shoulder, turning his head toward you again. “Seriously, we should finish. I need to…” Go back to Texas.

The moment your arm lifted and your hand pulled away, Nick felt the cold settle back in, but you kept talking as you slid back into the seat across from him, lifting your fork and continuing to pick at the remains of your breakfast. He only spoke when necessary, using the time to watch you, committing you to memory - things he didn’t have any right to do, but couldn’t help. Not after so long.

When the waitress brought the bill, he snatched it before you could, head shaking back and forth when you started to protest. Some things never change. “You came all the way out here, and you didn’t need to. You took care of me, and I’m sure it was the last thing you wanted to do. I can pay…” He checked the receipt and then looked back at you, raising an eyebrow. “I can pay $28.65 for breakfast.”

He saw the look on your face then - you tried to hold back your laugh but couldn’t, the sound erupting from your mouth as you lifted a hand to cover it. It was the most beautiful sound Nick had ever heard, and even though it hurt to smile, he didn’t hold his back, tilting his head to one side as he laughed with you. “If you say so.” Too soon, the two of you were in the parking lot, standing awkwardly next to your car, Nick’s eyes scanning the street again. “So you said you’re going to rent a car?” Your arms were crossed, one hip resting against the door. “Is there even a rental place in this town?”

“I have no idea. I wasn’t paying attention.” Shit. “I’ll figure it out.” He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, but before he could unlock it, you were already typing on yours, holding up your screen to face him a few seconds later. There was an Enterprise a few miles down the road, and despite where the car would take him, it was a small relief. “Great. If you open your trunk, I can grab my bag, and -”

“I’m not going to make you walk.” You looked back at the screen. “Especially since it’s on my way home.” You unlocked the doors, waiting. “Get in.” Neither of you spoke on the short drive, and when you pulled into one of the empty parking spaces, he was well aware of the fact that his time with you was dwindling. He had a ton of things that he wanted to say - another apology, questions about your life, telling you about the things he’d seen while he was on his own … but none of them came out. Instead, he looked straight ahead, his hands clasped together on his lap. “So…” You cleared your throat. “Are you really going to drive back to Texas and go to the police?” Your hands were on the steering wheel, fingers gripping the dark surface.

“I am.” He scoffed. “I can’t run from shit for the rest of my life.” And I’m not just talking about this mess. I … I mean you, too. “Might even be able to make it back by tomorrow morning. We’ll see how the drive goes.”

“Nick…” He heard the wheel creak as your grip tightened, saw your chest rise as you took a deep breath. “If they think it was an accident, maybe you don’t… Maybe you could…” He understood what you were trying to do, and for a moment, hope flared in his chest that it was more than just trying to find him a way out of a bad situation that was causing you to suggest something so unlike you. But it’s not. It can’t be.

“Elena’s still out there. If she goes back, she’s going to throw me under the bus for Ryan and probably for the house, too. A week ago, I wouldn’t have thought she would, but now…” He shrugged. “If I get there first, and tell my side of the story while I still have the fucking head wounds to prove it, maybe … maybe I can make it a little better for myself.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll keep you out of it. I’ll say that I managed to bandage myself up after she -”

“No. Don’t.” Releasing the steering wheel with your right hand, you grabbed for his left, fingers wrapping around his. “Don’t lie about anything. Because the second they find out that you lied… the less likely they are to believe you about the truth.” He heard your voice waver, and Nick couldn’t help it, shifting in his seat and turning toward you, his right hand lifting and then settling on your cheek. You inhaled sharply, eyes widening. But she didn’t ask me to stop. “Fuck, Nick.”

He leaned closer, eyes locked with yours. “Every single day since the day I called off our wedding and walked out of our house has been a constant reminder of how much I fucked up.” He wet his lips. “This is my punishment. You’ll never understand how sorry I am and how much I wish I’d made different choices.” Your lower lip was trembling, and Nick’s thumb moved slowly, stroking over your cheek. “But I didn’t. I fucked up the most important thing in my life, and I know it.” Back off. Move your hand. Don’t push it. “I’m not gonna fuck this up, too, not when I can make it … well, not right, but better.”

He wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss you - pouring all of the emotion from your time apart into it, giving you an actual goodbye in the only way he could even when he knew you deserved so much more. But not from me. I had my chance and I gave it up. “Well then, will you let me know you made it back to Texas? Just … just so I know when to expect a call from -”

“Of course.” He closed his eyes. “Anything you want.” Whn he reopened them, you were still watching him, but he saw that your eyes were filled with unshed tears. “I really am sorry.” I need to get out of this car. I need to get out before I do anything stupid. “For everything. I was wrong to leave. I was wrong to put you through that. You deserve better.” He pulled away then - knowing that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t.

You popped the trunk for him, and with one last look at you, he climbed out, hand on the metal as he raised it, reaching in for his bag. I can give her the letter now. He didn’t know what good it would do, but there was no way he was going to let it get thrown out or taken in as evidence, and so before he slung the strap over his shoulder, he unzipped the pocket, pulling out the worn envelope.

He stepped next to the driver’s side window, and you rolled it down, peering up at him. “Got everything?” He nodded, fingers tightening around the paper and almost certainly putting new wrinkles into it. “Alright.” You didn’t look away and so Nick took the opportunity to hold the letter out, watching as a look of confusion crossed your features. “What’s this?”

“It’s for you. I should have sent it a long time ago, but I didn’t. It’s time you read it.” When your fingers closed around it, he let go, a weight lifting off of his chest. There. That’s one less regret. “Drive safe, alright?” You nodded, still confused, and before he could second guess himself and say anything else, Nick spun away from your car and headed for the door, focused on keeping his eyes forward.

“Hey. Nick.” You were still in the car, but when he turned to look back at you, you were poking your head out the window, teeth digging into your lower lip. “I might have deserved better, but all I wanted was you.” You didn’t wait for a response, putting the car into reverse and shutting the window - the man staring after you with his mouth hanging partially open. I know. I know that’s all you wanted.

—

Tag list coming separately!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #fire meet gasoline #female reader #nick caldwel #nick caldwel x female reader #it's dangerous to fall in love #pedro pascal masterlist #please read the warnings #masterlist #nick caldwel masterlist

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

Text

It’s Dangerous To Fall In love VI: Ache For Love, Ache For Us

Pairing: Nick Caldwel (Fire Meet Gasoline) x Female Reader

Word Count: 11,463

Rating: M

Chapter warnings: Language, talk of Nick’s past. angst.

Summary: Checking out of the hotel means a 10 hour drive back to Arizona. Despite what happened the previous night - and what it meant, you and Nick still have a lot more to work through.

Author’s note:

Sorry about the delayed update with this one ... that’s completely my fault. I know that the end of this one isn’t going to sit well with some people ... but it’s necessary.

I think there are two more parts to this - one full length chapter, and an epilogue. We’ll see.

I appreciate all of the comments and interaction on this story so far; it’s been a challenge to write, but I’ve enjoyed it.

Comments and feedback and questions are always appreciated. If you need to catch up before reading chapter 6, you can do that by clicking below.

It’s Dangerous to Fall In Love Masterlist

He was up before you the following morning, and when you stretched, your arms extending from your body and over the surface of the mattress, you were disappointed that he wasn’t next to you. But when you heard the shower running, you figured that it was for the best - Nick’s absence would give you time to change and pack your stuff, preparing for when the two of you left the room a few hours later.

You didn’t regret what had happened the night before, including the part where you’d told him that you still loved him. You’d slept better that night than you had in two years, your body sated from the attention he’d paid it and the way - even after so long apart - he’d seemed remember exactly what you wanted and needed from him. I hope it was the same on my end. Rubbing your face, you rolled onto your side and buried your face in the pillow, yawning. It was only a little after 9, which meant that there was no hurry, and so you stayed in bed, giving yourself a chance to wake up fully before you stood.

It was an accident but you drifted back to sleep a few minutes later, cheek pressed against the cool material of the pillow, and only woke up when you felt someone touch your shoulder, Nick’s quiet voice saying your name. “Hmm?” Pushing up and turning your head toward the sound, you sucked in a breath. “Nick?”

“It’s almost 10. I wanted to let you sleep so I turned your alarm off, but I didn’t know …” Despite your half-asleep status, you took a few moments to appreciate the sight of Nick in front of you; another t-shirt clinging to his body, a pair of comfortable jeans covering his legs - the damp strands of his hair flat against his head for the most part. “I showered already, so…”

“Good morning, Nick.” Rolling your shoulders back, you gave him a smile. “Are you … how do you feel about last night?” There was a momentary flash of discomfort on his face but then the man settled onto the mattress next to you, one of his hands reaching for yours.

“I feel like it probably shouldn’t have happened, but I’m glad it did.” You were thankful for the honesty he was giving you, but his words still hurt. “I needed that. Needed to know that … even though you said that you didn’t hate me, you meant it.”

“I do mean it.” Squeezing his hand, you said his name. “I don’t hate you.” I couldn’t hate you. “Thank you for letting me sleep. We’ve got a long drive, and even an extra hour is going to help.” He ducked his head, telling you it was no problem, and in that moment, you knew that there was something else he wanted to say - but wouldn’t. “What’s going on, Nick? I know what you acting like this means. Something’s up.”

“I thought about kissing you this morning, before I got out of bed? Like I used to. I was going to lean over and kiss you before I went to take a shower, and then I … I remembered that I can’t, and -”

“You could have.” Sitting up, you gathered the sheet at your chest, holding it in place. “Nick, after last night, we… until we leave this room, I think … I think the rules are different.”

“And then what? As soon as we step outside, it goes back to -”

“It doesn’t need to.” You rubbed your eyes again, sighing. “We can take things as they come, but … Nick, you said you wanted to be friends, and that means we’re going to have to figure out how to do this. And that’s going to mean being honest with each other, so you telling me that you wanted to kiss me? That’s big.” Leaning in, you reached for him with your free hand. “I want to kiss you right now, so that makes two of us that feel that way this morning.” He smiled - the expression barely there, but it was Nick that closed the distance between you, his mouth meeting yours briefly before he surged forward, pushing you back against the pillows.

When he climbed into bed with you, hooking one knee over your hip and pulling his hand free before slipping his arms beneath your body, you were ready for it, nodding in agreement as you kissed him back. The two of you had always been like that - one leading the other, the attraction and spark between you only able to be contained for short periods of time before one of you broke. But this time, we’re both breaking.

The kiss didn’t go past that - bodies connected, lips parted and Nick seeming not to care that you hadn’t brushed your teeth that morning as he delved into your mouth with his tongue, but it was enough. You felt just how much he still cared, how much he ached to try and make up for what he’d done - and you hoped that he could tell you wanted it just as much. You wanted to give him the chance to make up for leaving, no matter what that meant or how long it took.

You swallowed hard when he pulled away, running his nose alongside yours briefly, and when Nick cleared his throat, you knew that he was about to deliver bad news. “You need to get dressed. We’ve gotta get out of here, and as much as I’d like to stay in this room forever, I’m not gonna lie and say that I don’t want to get the fuck out of Texas and never come back.”

That made you laugh, and as you nodded in reply, Nick climbed off of you, standing up and holding his hand out. “I’m not a big fan of this state either, so yeah. We should get the fuck out of here.”

—

Just under two hours later, you were driving across the Texas / New Mexico border, the radio playing in the background. As the “Welcome to New Mexico” sign came into view, you glanced over at Nick, watching as his posture changed - the man sitting up straighter in the seat, his eyes trained on the windshield. “You’re out of Texas, Nick. It’s over.”

“That part of my life is.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “What comes next?”

“I’m not sure.” For either of us. You reached for his hand, linking your fingers with his. “But you’ll figure it out.”

—

You stopped for the first time in Albuquerque, pulling off the highway and into a gas station. Nick insisted on filling the tank while you went inside and used the bathroom and bought snacks. You’d talked it over in the hotel parking lot and decided not to stop for an actual meal until later, right before you crossed the border into Arizona. “That will leave about four hours in the trip,” you pointed out as you zoomed in on your phone screen. “Means we’ll get back no later than 10, unless dinner takes forever, or we need to stop for something else.”

You were still doing fine - the drive had been easy with very little traffic, and Nick’s company had been more than pleasant, the two of you talking about multiple topics as you traveled through the desert - just like you had on the numerous other road trips that you’d taken together in the past.

In some ways, that time together was much easier than being in the hotel room with him had been. The space was smaller, sure, but it seemed less confined to you, Nick comfortable in the passenger seat as he told you stories about his time in prison as well as his time on the road - even though he didn’t talk about his time in Texas after meeting Elena.

He had some good stories, and as you pushed aside your anger even further, you realized that you wanted to hear them - wanted him to tell you all about what he’d done while he was gone and how it had impacted his life. It wouldn’t change the hurt you’d experienced, and it wouldn’t eliminate how mad at him you’d been - and part of you still was - but as the man spoke, gesturing with both hands, you understood that even though he regretted leaving for a lot of reasons, he’d needed the time away for very different ones.

He was different than he had been - and when he wasn’t worrying about your reaction to being in such close proximity, it was easy to see. Because he’s not the same man that he was when he walked out. You didn’t know if he’d ever mourned the loss of his father properly, and didn’t know how to ask, but you assumed that when he was home and with his mother again, the topic would come up between them. And then I’ll know. Maybe not everything, but … more.

As you headed back out to the car, you saw that Nick was already sitting again, your phone held up to his ear. Climbing in, you listened carefully, figuring that there were only a few people that he could have been talking to - and after a few seconds, your suspicions were confirmed, the man repeating the ETA you’d given him to the person on the other end of the line. “She says we’ll be back in Mesa kinda late, so if you want me to stay somewhere else tonight, I can. I don’t want to -” He paused, teeth digging into his lower lip. “Before midnight, yeah. Unless something really delays us, it shouldn’t… no. No, she’s just going to drop me off. She hasn’t said anything about coming in.” He went quiet, nodding. “I’ll call you when we’re about an hour out, if that’s alright.”

He hung up seconds later, sticking your phone back into the space in the center console and then scrubbing one hand over the lower half of his face. “Is she excited to see you, Nick?” You handed him the plastic bag of food and drinks, waiting until he took it to keep talking. “I bet she is. She always talked about how excited she was that you were eventually going to be home. I’m sure she’s got like fifteen meals planned out.”

“Oh, of course.” He laughed, rummaging through the bag and pulling out a Red Bull. “I bet the first thing she makes is her enchiladas.” Oh, those. You groaned, closing your eyes briefly. “What?”

“My favorite. I’ve had them a couple times in the last few years. She does something different with the sauce sometimes, and it’s so fucking good. She’ll probably make them how she used to for you, but if she’s got the extra -”

“You could come over for dinner.” He cleared his throat, popping open the can and lifting it to his lips for a long swallow. “I’m sure she -”

“Not for the first one, Nick.” Pulling back onto the highway, you shook your head at him. “I’ve gotten a couple days with you already. Your mom deserves her time, too.” He wouldn’t argue with you - you knew that for a fact, and so when he agreed it was no surprise. “We’re making good time.” Drumming your fingers on the wheel, you nodded, keeping your eyes on the road in front of you.”And the weather’s -”

“What’s wrong?” He put the can down into one of the cupholders, reaching over to touch your knee. “You were fine before you went into that gas station.” Just tell him. Tell him what you were thinking about.

“You’re different. And I didn’t see it as much when we were in that hotel, but now … you’re… you needed to leave. And you didn’t do it the right way, but …” Grip on the wheel growing tighter, you took a deep breath. “But it helped. And I’m glad.” He said nothing right away, but when he did speak, the man’s words weren’t what you expected.

“I’m glad, too. Because it means that there’s less work for me to do to get back to …” His fingers tightened on your leg. “To the man I was before my dad died.” Is that what you want? “I was happy then. With my life and my job and with you. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the exact same person again, but… I want to try.” You both stayed quiet after he said that, the man’s eyes leaving you and looking forward, too, but it was a comfortable silence. He means it. For the next few minutes, you both watched the open road - and when Nick cleared his throat and started talking again, you couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face. “So when I was in Atlantic City…”

—

As excited as he was to see his mother - and sleep in his bed again - Nick wasn’t looking forward to the end of your time together.

Even though you’d said that walking out of the hotel room together could be looked at as a turning point of sorts, Nick hadn’t felt that way in all the time you’d been on the road. He was shocked at how easy it was to be near you in every sense of the word for so many hours at a time after being apart for so long. He was even more surprised at the level of interest you showed in the things he was saying. When he’d started talking as the two of you drove west on I-40, it had been to fill the silence - the man hoping that he could engage you in conversation long enough to get you to open up in return … and you had.

The first half of the ride back was the happiest he’d been in as long as he could remember, and as you started to pass signs for Gallup, Nick felt his stomach twist.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get out of the car and stretch his legs. It wasn’t even that he wasn’t hungry, because breakfast had been hours earlier and the snacks you’d consumed in place of an actual lunch hadn’t fully filled his belly. It’s because when we’re out in public, people are looking.

Neither of you knew anyone in New Mexico, and he wasn’t worried about being recognized, but Nick understood all too well how nosy people were. People likely wouldn’t say anything, but he had to wonder if the way he looked or the way he carried himself gave away the fact that he’d just been released from prison - and if people would judge the two of you for it. He knew that it would only get worse when you were back in Mesa because you did know people there, and many of them wouldn’t hold back when it came to giving you a piece of their mind about your connection with him. And she’ll say she doesn’t care, but … she does. “Nick.” You touched his shoulder, bringing the man out of his thoughts. “Did you hear me? I asked what you wanted to eat. There are a ton of places on these signs, and I can see -”

“Can we sit somewhere? It doesn’t need to be nice, but I don’t want to eat in the car.” He poked his tongue into his cheek, thinking. “We’ve already had burgers and pizza, but -”

“Applebee’s?” You pointed as you passed a sign. “Plenty of stuff to choose from on that menu, and it’s usually pretty quick to get in and out.”

“That works.” Settling into the seat and trying to push his unease to the side, Nick stayed quiet until you parked, the man waiting until you’d exited the car to follow you. He watched as you stretched, raising both arms over your head and groaning as you arched your back. “I wish I could help drive. You’ve been sitting like that for so long, and we’ve still got -”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Lowering your arms, you waited for him to move next to you before you headed across the parking lot. “As soon as I drop the car off tomorrow, I won’t have to drive for a couple days, so it’s not a big deal.” You elbowed him, tilting your hed so that you could meet his eyes. “Besides, you’re a pretty good copilot, so it’s making things go fast.” You’d said similar things to him in the past - telling him that you preferred to drive when it was just the two of you since he could always keep you entertained on longer road trips.

For Nick, it was another reminder of the way things had been, of all of the opportunities that he’d likely lost with you. We would have already been so many places together. So many memories. So much … so much wasted time. He said your name, cautiously reaching out with one hand, and you placed yours within it, a smile lighting up your features. “Do they still have that spinach and artichoke dip I liked?”

“They do. And since it’s before 6, Nick, it’s happy hour, which means it’s half off.” You pulled on his hand, leading him forward. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

—

You were right when you’d said that the restaurant was usually fast when it came to getting food out, and barely an hour later, the two of you were finishing the remnants of your meal, mostly empty plates scattered on the table between you. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to a lot of shit again,” he started, lips closing around the end of his straw briefly. “But fuck am I glad that I can eat whatever I want whenever I want.” You laughed at that, the sound quiet, but you didn’t look away. “I know we haven’t really been anywhere good the past couple days, but this food is … incredible compared to what I’ve been eating.”

“Maybe you’ll put on some weight, Nick.’ Sipping your own drink, you eyed him. “I mean you look good, but your face is thin, and you definitely lost weight while you were gone.” Only after I got locked up. He glanced down, thinking. “And you know how your mom is. When she cooks, you can’t leave the table unless you’ve had at least two plates, so…” Trailing off, you arched a brow. “You may want to think about finding a good place to run again so that you can put all those calories to work.”

“Probably.” He finished his drink, tipping the cup up so that the ice slid into his mouth. “That’s a good idea.” Wonder if the trails in that park are still usable. You were about to speak when the waitress walked up to the table, asking if either of you needed anything and Nick jumped in before you had a chance. “I’m good. Just the check, please.” Your gaze flicked him and then back up at the young girl. “One bill.” She nodded and then set down the folio, thanking both of you before she turned away from the table.

Nick knew that he only had seconds to react and so he did, his hand shooting out and grabbing for what she’d left. “Nick, you don’t have to … you already paid for gas, and -”

“Want to.” He scanned the slip of paper and then shrugged. “You came all this way for me. You’ve paid for everything else, and I hate it.” He hoped you understood, and after considering his words for a few seconds you blinked, relaxing back into your side of the booth. “I know I can be an asshole, but I’ve never been an asshole that doesn’t pay his way.”

“No, you haven’t.” Looking down at your hands, you paused. “Speaking of that, though, um … your name’s still on the house, so now that you’re going to be back in Mesa, we should probably figure out what you want to do about that.” It hit him like a punch to the gut, but Nick forced himself to keep looking at you. “We don’t have to decide soon, but … we’d both need to be present if one of the names was coming off of the paperwork, and …”

“Shit. I didn’t … fuck, how did I not even think about …” Nick swore again, setting the check down on the edge of the table, a few bills sticking out from the end. “I left you with the …’

“You did.” Your smile was tight, but you didn’t look away. “And I figured it out. I don’t want to sell the house, Nick. I never have. I love it there.” How did you afford everything with me gone? How didn’t I… “I got a couple raises. And it’s been hard sometimes, but my parents were there to help, too and so I’ve never missed a payment.” You wet your lips, shrugging. “I made it work.” Of course you did. And you never complained and … “But yeah. That’s something else to think about. You name’s already on it, so if you needed a place to -”

“I’m not going to take over the house.” He reached for you, hesitating before he covered your hand with one of his. “You’ve been making payments on it by yourself for longer than I even lived there. That would be real shitty of me.” You didn’t disagree, and Nick groaned, looking down. “Would you be able to afford it if I got taken off the loan? Or -”

“I don’t know.” You met his eyes again, shrugging. “I don’t know if they’d approve me for a loan in my name only.”

“Then I’ll stay on it.” He squeezed your hand once more and then pulled his away. “It’s not hurting anything, and I won’t be trying to get my own place for a while, so … it makes sense. Unless you don’t want me to. I -”

“Nick, I didn’t bring this up to upset you.” You sipped your drink, frowning. “I didn’t even want to say anything, but then I was thinking about you trying to find a place to live, and the loan coming up when they do a credit check, and … I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped.” Trapped? In a mortgage with you? Never. “But like I said, there’s no rush. I just … I figured you hadn’t really thought about it.” I didn’t. I should have.

“Alright.” He didn’t know what else to say, so Nick just agreed, his eyes still on you. “And I mean it. I don’t want us … you to lose that house, so if you’re OK with things staying how they are for a little while longer, we’ll do that. Until … I get my shit together, at least.” You nodded, and even though you met his eyes, Nick couldn’t tell exactly what you were thinking, only that you were for some reason grateful to him for simply agreeing not to do anything that would jeopardize your ownership of the house. Did she really think that I’d try and take it from her? Did she really think that I’d expect to just … come back?

“We should get going.” You pointed at the folio with the bill, clearing your throat. “I’ll top off the gas tank before we get back on the highway and then we should be able to drive straight through. Tapping your fingers on the tabletop, you took a long breath and then released it, pushing yourself backwards from the edge. “Do you want to ask for a refill before we go? They’ll give you a to-go cup.” Shaking his head, Nick stood up and reached a hand out for you, waiting to help you out of the booth. You hesitated but then took his hand and didn’t let go, stepping closer. “I really wasn’t trying to start a fight. I just … It’s been on my mind for the last couple days, and …”

“I know.” He leaned in, kissing you briefly on the cheek. “It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize.”

The two of you headed back outside and into the parking lot, the sun just beginning to set and the dinner crowd filing in. It still didn’t feel real to him - that only 7 and a half hours earlier, he’d been in Texas with you, finishing out the final few hours of the longest years of his life. And now, we’ll be back in Arizona in less than an hour. And I’ll be back … back home with my mom tonight. He had no idea how he was going to react to being in his childhood home again, but Nick knew that running from his emotions was no longer an option - and that dealing with things as soon as he possibly could was necessary.

It only took you a few minutes to fill the gas tank and then you were back on the road, driving toward the sunset - and toward what he hoped was an actual future for himself. Even though you weren’t outright ignoring him, you’d turned up the radio as soon as you got back onto the highway, resting your elbow on the door and using that hand to prop up your head as you drove. You looked comfortable, but he could tell that you were deep in thought, even though he heard you humming along to the songs on the radio occasionally, one side of your mouth curving up into a small smile when a favorite came on.

You surprised him, though, when you pulled the car off of the highway and toward a rest stop barely a half hour later. “What are -”

Putting the car into park, you shifted in your seat enough to face him head-on, eyes bright. “This is your first time back in Arizona in two years, Nick. I thought we could commemorate the occasion.” Your smile was cautious, but when you reached for him, he noticed that you didn’t hesitate before taking his hand and squeezing. “Come on.”

You got out of the car and he followed, eyes scanning the parking lot that you were in and the grouping of covered picnic tables that were - for the most part - empty. “Where are we going? You passed the main building, so -” But his words stopped as you took his hand again and dragged him back in the direction you’d come from, the two of you stepping around a large sign on the side of the road. Oh. Oh, she…

He’d seen it before - the large blue sign on the side of the highway proclaiming Arizona to be the Grand Canyon State, the snow-capped mountains - but seeing it that night and by your side was different. She stopped me here because she wanted … “Welcome back to Arizona, Nick. Welcome home.”

—

You hadn’t planned on stopping at the state line, but the rapid shift in conversation right before leaving the restaurant had necessitated something on your end. You hadn’t wanted to bring up the loan status so soon, but Nick’s comment had pushed you a little too far, and you hadn’t been able to stop yourself. I didn’t do it to make him feel bad. I didn’t want to… You didn’t think that he would have ever thought to take the house from you - but his name was still legally on all the documents meaning that on paper, he had every right to be there if he wanted to.

You wouldn’t have gotten approved for a second loan in only your name, and so part of you hoped that he wouldn’t want to immediately try to remove himself from the one you currently held. But I can’t stop him. That had been something that you’d looked into - what your options were if you needed to sell the house, but he didn’t seem like that was going to be the course of action he took, and for that, you were thankful.

As you neared the state line, you made your decision; wanting Nick to have a good memory of getting back into Arizona, of spending time with you, of knowing that you were still trying to make things special for him even though the entire trip had been a back and forth of emotions for both of you. And it was a small thing - stopping at the state sign for a few minutes, but it was all you could do. You are home, Nick. This is always going to be your home, no matter how long you’re gone for.

He stared up at the sign, pulling his hand from yours and crossing his arms over his chest and taking a long, deep breath. “I’m really back, aren’t I?” Nick looked over at you, nodding. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m…”

“Here, stand in front of it. Let me take your picture.” Pulling your phone out, you held it up. “You can send it to your mom.” He laughed but moved to stand in front of the sign, carefully climbing up and onto the large rock that was on the ground at the center. He stumbled briefly and then caught his balance, holding his arms out and laughing - and it was that moment that you captured, the man’s mouth open in a wide grin, his eyes halfway shut and his hands reaching out to steady himself. Perfect.

“Take a different one.” He called out to you, hands on his hips. “A good one.” You did, even though you thought that the first one was the best one, and when you motioned for him to climb down, he did quickly, walking back over to you.

“I’m glad we got here before it got too dark. Do you want to look through -”

“Let me take one of you, too.” He reached for your phone, fingers closing around yours. “Get over there.” Agreeing, you stepped in front of the sign and carefully got on top of the rock, turning around to face the man where he stood. He took few of you, the flash going off on the last one, and as you began to head back to where he waited, you saw that there was a young man and another woman standing a few feet away. I should ask if they want me to take one of them.

“Would you mind taking a picture of us? We’re on our way to California, and we’ve gotten one at every sign.” The woman held out her phone and you took it wordlessly, nodding. “Thank you so much!” Nick stood back as you got into position and instructed the couple - taking pictures of them separately and then waiting until they were on the rock together, his arms around her from behind as he rested his chin on her shoulder. They were cute together, and as you finished taking the photos, you couldn’t help smiling at them when they walked back to you, hand in hand. “I can take one of the two of you if you want?”

The woman’s voice was tinged with happiness, and after a quick glance at Nick, whose fearful stare told you that it was your call - you nodded, reaching for your phone again and handing it over. “Thank you.” Heart pounding in your chest as the two of you walked back to the rock, Nick climbed up first and then pulled you toward him, fingers of one hand linked with yours, the other hand resting against your hip. It took a second for you to find your footing, but when you did, turning so that your back was pressed to his chest, Nick pulled you even closer, his arms winding around your upper body and his cheek resting against yours. “Nick, I -”

“Just smile. We can delete it as soon as they leave if you want.” You didn’t want that - it hadn’t been planned, but this would be the first picture that the two of you had together in years, and even though you knew that looking at it - at the familiar pose, the comfortable touches - would likely hurt more than you anticipated, you wanted the photo to exist. “Thank you for bringing me home, Calabaza.”

He turned his head and kissed your cheek, and even through your shock you were aware of the flash going off, Nick’s arms tightening before he left go. “Got it! That’s a good one!” The other woman lowered your phone and waited for the two of you to make it back to where they stood. “Thank you so much! We’re planning on driving to Winslow and stopping, so this is the last thing we needed to do for the day.” She grinned and you nodded back, wishing the two of them luck as you and Nick headed back for your car.

“Can I see my pictures?” He waited until you were sitting to ask, buckling his seatbelt as he spoke. “I’ll send them now so my mom knows exactly where we are.” He took your phone from your hands and focused on the screen, but instead of scrolling, Nick stayed still, eyes wide. What? What’s that look for? “We… we look…” He swallowed hard and then sighed, brightening the screen and turning it so that you could see it. “Here.”

You felt your eyes prickle with tears at the sight of the two of you on the screen, and a broken sob left your lips moments later, both hands rising to cover your face. We look like us. We look like we used to. It hurt more to see yourself next to him in that picture than it had to look back through all of the ones from your relationship and engagement, and you weren’t sure why. He let you cry for a few seconds and then you heard him say your name, the man reaching out and settling a hand on your shoulder and saying your name again, that time quietly.

“I’ll delete them. I know you don’t want to -”

“No. No, that…” Sniffling, you raised your head, locking eyes with him. “Nick, look at us. It looks like …” Like no time has passed. Like we’re together and happy. Like … “Like we’re where we should be.” It wasn’t fair - for you to make a comment like that when the future of your friendship was so uncertain - but you didn’t care. “I just didn’t expect to see a picture of us from now. It… it caught me by surprise.”

“Me too.” He sniffed, blowing out a shaky breath. “I meant it, though. Thank you for bringing me home. And thank you for making me feel like I still have a home to come back to.” With your mom? Or with me?

It wouldn’t have been a good idea to voice that question, and so you just grinned at him, taking a deep breath of your own and then swiping the dampness from your cheeks. “You’re welcome. I’ll send you a bill for my Uber fee in the -”

“I’m going to kiss you again.” He interrupted you, his head shaking back and forth quickly. “I know it’s not a good idea, and that we can’t just keep -”

“Alright.” Your reply was a whisper, but you leaned in as you spoke, closing your eyes. “Nick, please…” You tried to stay focused when his lips touched yours but it was next to impossible. That kiss wasn’t like the ones in the hotel room - tentative and full of apology, the man hesitant to move his mouth against yours. The kiss in the car was Nick, doing what he’d done so many times in the past - anchoring you, tethering you to the present and letting you know that he was right there with you in every way.

You knew that he loved you, but in that kiss, you felt it, Nick’s hands rising to cradle your cheeks gently as his tongue probed between your lips and met yours. It wasn’t a long kiss, and when you separated it happened naturally, without a gasp for breath or any quick movement, but Nick didn’t look away from you, even as he straightened up and squared his shoulders.

“If you let me do that again, it’s going to be really hard for me to not try and convince you to stop somewhere along the way home for the night.” You heard the trembling of his voice, Nick licking his lips as he finally looked away. “I know we can’t. I know we shouldn’t. But every fucking second I spend with you is making it so much clearer that -”

“I know.” Angling your head back, you stared at the ceiling of the car, nodding. “If we get through this, we deserve an award or something.” That made him laugh - a little - and when you twisted the keys in the ignition again, he waited until you’d backed out of the spot and were heading for the highway to say anything in reply, the man sending out the pictures and message to his mom before he returned his attention to you.

“Even if I wouldn’t have left like I did, I still wouldn’t deserve you, d’you know that?” He took your hand, pulling it onto his lap. “You are way too good for me, and I knew it from the second I walked up to you in that parking lot. You tried to tell me no, that we shouldn’t go out, and I kept bugging you… maybe it would have been better if -”

“No.” Eyes on the rearview mirror briefly, you whipped your head from side to side. “It wouldn’t have been better, Nick. The time we spent together was right. Us knowing each other is right. It’s hard and it’s been even harder for the last couple years, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it. Love doesn’t make sense. It’s not supposed to be easy. It -”

“Yeah, but it shouldn’t be this hard, either. Why haven’t you asked me what we’re both thinking?” What? “If I loved you, why did I leave in the first place? Shouldn’t you have been enough to keep me in Arizona? If I loved you, why did I sleep with -”

“Nick.” You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, forcing yourself not to look at him. If I do, it’s over. I’ll have to stop. “I haven’t asked you that because it doesn’t matter. We can’t change what’s already happened, and that includes you sleeping with Elena and letting yourself get so caught up in that that you …” Glancing down, you continued. “That you were involved in someone’s death, even on accident.” It was almost fully dark at that point, and though you knew that you were driving through the desert and there wasn’t much to look at, you wished it was daytime. A distraction. Anything to keep me from… “You left Arizona because you were trying to deal with losing your dad all by yourself. You left because you thought going would be easier than admitting that you didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Calabaza, I -”

“No, you asked me a question, and I’m going to give you an answer.” He went quiet, shifting uncomfortably next to you. “Whether or not you loved me or were in love with me or wanted to be with me didn’t matter to you because that wasn’t what it was about. You left because you didn’t want to lose me and have to go through what you and your mom were going through, and I understand that. It doesn’t really make sense because either way, you were without me, but …” Chewing on your lower lip, you glanced down, setting the Cruise Control button on the steering wheel and then relaxing the pressure of your foot on the gas pedal. “And then you know what, Nick? I think that after you were gone, even though it was hard? It was easier for you to imagine that coming back would have been the shittier outcome. And it might have been. I was really mad. Our friends were really mad. I’m pretty sure my dad would have throttled you if he’d seen you again.”

“Will he still? If he sees me now?” You laughed at that - there was no other option as an answer to his question. “What?”

“No. He’s still not happy about all of that money we wasted, or that you just … left me, but I’ve been honest with him about supporting you, Nick, and he… understands.”

“How?” It was a good question, and sometimes you still asked yourself the same thing, but that wasn’t the answer you wanted to give Nick.

“Because when you love someone, you don’t always get hung up on the shitty things they do, no matter how much they hurt.” Taking a moment, you pressed your lips together. “And he understands that I chose to forgive you enough so that I didn’t just leave you in the cold when you needed me.”

“Does he know you’re with me now?”

“Yes. I told both of them when I made the decision to go to Texas. I don’t think either of them were surprised.” They definitely weren’t. “Am I mad that you slept with Elena? It doesn’t make me happy. But it wasn’t immediately, Nick. We were apart for a while before you met her, and I feel like at that point, you figured you weren’t ever coming back so why not find someone else? Even if you still loved me then, it wasn’t like it mattered, because we weren’t together.”

“It mattered. But you’re right. I had no reason to think that you’d ever even speak to me again. And I was lonely. I feel like a fucking asshole admitting that, but -”

“I was lonely, too. And that’s why I dated. I figured I had to get back out there at some point. And it felt disloyal to you, at first?” You laughed, eyeing a sign for the Petrified Forest National Park as you passed it. “You left me and I felt guilty about going to dinner with someone else. Make that make sense.” Nick scoffed from beside you and you watched from the corner of your eye as he reached up and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how you were able to walk away, Nick. I don’t know how you were able to get in your car and just … leave, because I don’t think I could do that to you, no matter how fucked up I was over anything.” You inhaled, holding your breath. “But I’ve never been in your situation. So I don’t know how I’d react to it. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe -”

“I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have abandoned you and my mom. I should have agreed to postpone the wedding, found someone to talk to. I should have worked through it, because -”

“Talk to someone now, Nick. When we get back? Get help. You don’t have to do this on your own, and I think that’s the biggest mistake you made before - thinking that no one would understand.” You knew that you weren’t equipped to be Nick’s therapist - not alone, at least. But I could have been there as someone extra. I could have … helped. “It’s been a couple years but I’m sure it’ll still be good for you. It… it was good for me.”

“What?” That got his full attention, and with a sideways glance at the man, you decided to tell him something that only a few people knew. Whatever helps.

“After you left? I… I started seeing a therapist. I was depressed. I was upset. I felt … alone. And it was easier for me to talk to a stranger than it was to tell my parents or friends.” You gripped the steering wheel tighter, the material creaking beneath your bent fingers. “It took me a couple months to decide to go, but after I started? I wish I’d gone sooner.” He said your name, using both hands to cover his face, and when he spoke next, you could almost feel the anguish in his words.

“I’m sorry. I drove you to …” Nick swore, dropping his hands and smacking one of his thighs, his head turned away from you so that he could look out the passenger window. “Great. So we go from just about ready to get married to you needing therapy because of me. What a fucking piece of shit I am.” He lowered his chin. “It doesn’t matter how many times I apologize to you, it’s never going to be enough. I’m never going to -”

“I went to two years of therapy and I still came to get you.” Interrupting him, you gave the words a few seconds to sink in, taking the exit for route 77 toward 377. “It helped. It helped me work through all the things I was feeling and what I didn’t understand… well, most of what I didn’t understand. You filled in a lot the blanks there.” Reaching over with your right hand, you touched his knee, saying his name. “When I told her I went to see you when you called? I think she expected me to spiral. And I did for a few weeks, but we worked through it pretty quick. And that’s … that’s when I decided that if you needed me again, I was going to help.”

He laid his hand over yours again but didn’t apply pressure - just rested his palm against the back of it. “And this trip? What does -”

“I stopped seeing her about 6 months ago, so she doesn’t know. She helped me through the toughest parts of losing you, but after we worked through that there wasn’t … the rest of my life was pretty decent, Nick. It still is. And we’d been writing to each other while she and I were still talking, and it … I handled it. I talked about it. She said it was good for me to be able to have that level of communication with you on a regular basis, and that it showed how much progress I made.” He was moving his thumb, the pad of it swiping slowly over the bones of your wrist. “I can’t force you to go, but … I think it’ll help. And even if it just helps you understand? That’s a step in the right direction.”

He didn’t reply, though he kept his hand in place, the movement of his thumb never faltering. You didn’t know if you’d said too much, but you didn’t think so - at least based on his outward reaction.

Fifteen minutes later, Nick finally spoke, clearing his throat as he pulled his hand away from yours. “Three hours left.” He pointed at the map on the dashboard’s screen. “And it looks like we’re on this until -”

“Pretty much all the way back.” You sighed. “And most of it’s desert. There’s not really much in the way of cities until we get to Star Valley. I checked directions before I left, and -”

“You really looked into this, didn’t you?” He sounded defeated, and when you looked over again, you saw that Nick was looking at you, brow furrowed into a deep frown. “Shit.”

“Well, there was a 50% chance I was going to be on my own on the way back, so yeah. I had to plan out when I was going to be able to stop and take breaks or fill up the tank.” You shrugged. “And I figured having an idea of where I was going to pull off would give me things to look forward to. Ten hours in a car by myself would have been a long trip.” You returned your attention back to the road. “But I’m not by myself, so none of that really matters.” Both of you were quiet again, and after a few seconds, you said the man’s name. “If you want to nap, you can. Don’t feel like you need to entertain me.”

“Nope. Part of sitting in the front seat is staying awake.” He shifted, though, and you knew that he was getting comfortable. “I’m good.”

But ten minutes later, you heard a long, slow sigh … and when you looked over at him, saw that Nick had fallen asleep.

—

He woke up and had no idea where he was, but when he heard your quiet voice telling him that everything was fine, he calmed - slightly. Shit, I didn’t mean to sleep. “There’s a casino coming up in a few minutes… and a gas station?” He nodded, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m going to stop and use the bathroom and take a few minutes to stretch my legs. But we’re only about an hour from home, so you can let your mom know that, too.”

“I’m sorry I fell asleep.” He kept his eyes on the windshield, scanning the lights of the city that you were passing through. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I don’t blame you. I’d doze off right now if I could, too.” You laughed, pulling off of the highway and into the casino’s parking lot, turning right and pulling in front of the gas pumps. “I know it’s early, but I’m ready for bed.” It’s been a long day. “Do you want anything?” He eyed the dashboard, seeing that you were still at just under a half tank of gas and then Nick groaned, rubbing at his eyes.

“I’ll come in with you.” A few seconds later, the two of you were walking into the brightly lit gas station, the young woman behind the counter greeting you with a nod and one raised hand. “Go, use the bathroom. I’ll wait.” You agreed and then headed off toward the back, Nick turning and beginning to browse the aisles. It was more than a gas station - it was a full on store, and in the few minutes it took you to come back, he was able to wake up fully, taking in the racks of souvenirs, clothing and food.

He realized just how much he’d missed being able to visit places like it - travel plazas and rest areas had been his best friends on his journey across country, and Nick was happy to learn that nothing had changed in the time that he’d been locked up. At least when it comes to how these places feel. “Alright. I’m back. It’s really cold back there, just to warn you. Tell me what you want and -”

“No, I’ll get my own when I get out. Be right back.” He left you in the potato chip aisle, the man striding down the short hallway and into the bathroom. Once inside, he did what he needed to and then stared into the mirror over the sinks, blinking rapidly. He looked tired - not only like he’d been traveling all day, but like the trip hadn’t been easy, and Nick understood that it was the result of a lot of things. But mostly because so much has been… we’ve talked about … He gripped the edge of the sink, swearing under his breath.

In an hour, you’d drop him off at his parents’ house. In an hour, you’d back out of the driveway and head for your house. In another hour, his guaranteed time with you ended - and he didn’t know where that left the two of you. And I wasted an hour and a half. He wasn’t surprised; the conversation about your therapy sessions had taken a lot out of him, and even though Nick knew that your suggestion that he seek treatment, too, came from a place of love, it didn’t make it any easier to think about.

Talking to someone while in jail had been one thing - it gave him a way to get frustration off of his chest and attempt to understand why he’d done some of the things that he had. But doing the same in his hometown? Talking to someone and then walking out of the office and heading back to his home - and his room and his family? That was different. That was almost unthinkable, even though he knew it was necessary. “For me. Gotta do it for me.” He looked into the mirror again and then turned the water back on, dampening his hands and then running them through his hair.

It helped - slightly - and when Nick stepped back into the main shopping area, he saw that you’d picked up a few things and were standing near the counter, talking to the employee. He smiled, giving himself a few seconds to watch you from a distance and then he stepped toward the coolers, grabbing a bottle of water and another Red Bull. He picked up a large bag of Chex Mix on his way to where you stood, and before you could tell him no, he set what he carried down next to your stuff, putting one hand on your lower back. “I’ve got all of it.” You turned your head sharply, mouth falling open to tell him no, but Nick stopped you with a smile. “No, you’ve been driving for hours. I’ll pay.”

“Thank you.” You shifted closer to him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Nikki here was just telling me that the rooms at the hotel are really nice, but I told her that we’re only an hour from home, and -”

“Maybe we can come back.” He pulled his card out of the reader, tucking it back into his wallet. “Mesa’s not too far, and I haven’t played at a blackjack table in years.” It wasn’t the closest casino by any means, but there was no point in being rude about it, and when the two of you stepped back out and into the dry, night air, he finally pulled his hand away, transferring the bag he carried from one hand to the other.

“A second Red Bull? You’re going to be up all night.” Leaning against the trunk of your car, you looked over at Nick, arms crossed. “Just want to stand for another minute or two, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He opened the passenger door, setting the bag down and then moved to stand next to you, both of you staring across the parking lot at the casino building. “Feels good to be out of the car.” You agreed, glancing up at the night sky and then looking back at him. “I really appreciate you doing this for me. Giving me a place to stay. Giving me a way back. Being so damn honest about everything.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Means a hell of a lot.”

“I told you.” You pushed off of the trunk and turned to face him, wrinkling your nose. “Always in your corner, Caldwel.” He shivered, closing his eyes and curling his hands into loose fists to keep from reaching for you. “C’mon. We’re close. The sooner we get back in the car, the sooner you can crack open that energy drink and -”

“And then have to pee again as soon as we pull into my driveway?” He laughed - the sound only slightly forced - and followed you, climbing in on his side while you settled back into the driver’s seat. “Might not have thought this through.”

“Well, I mean…” You pulled out of the parking lot, checking for traffic. “That’s nothing new, so…”

“I deserved that.” He tried to hold back a laugh but failed, and you joined him moments after, Nick trying to file away the sound so that he could think about it later - when you weren’t around.

Even though he felt himself getting more anxious the closer you got to Mesa, Nick tried to hold it together. The two of you talked - not about anything of importance, but you filled the time, Nick sipping from the can slowly, occasionally offering you a drink - which you finally accepted, pausing in the story you were telling long enough to take a swallow.

But when he started to see signs for familiar places - and one that read “MESA - 15”, Nick couldn’t hold it together anymore, crushing the empty can in one hand and turning in his seat to stare at you. “Hey. I need you to stop. Please pull over. I -” He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, but you did as he asked, Nick thankful when you pulled off onto the side of the road and turned the car off. Shit. Shit, this is… “I’m sorry. I just …”

“It’s going to be ok, Nick.” You reached for him, your hand finding his shoulder. “Your mom’s going to be so excited to see you. You can get settled in and -”

“But what happens with us?” He unbuckled the seatbelt and reached for the door handle, eyes wide. “What happens between us when this trip is over and we have no reason to be together anymore? What happens then? How do we go from this back to …” He trailed off and pushed the door open, stepping back into the darkness. It took you a few seconds but then you followed him, carefully rounding the car to meet him on the side away from traffic.

There was a slight breeze and Nick watched as you hugged yourself, rubbing at your bicep with one hand. “We’ll make it work, Nick.” Moving closer, you drew your lower lip back and between your teeth. “I don’t know what that means exactly, but we’ll figure it out.” You went quiet and he watched the look in your eyes change - from confusion to resolve to uncertainty, and he couldn’t stand to see it. He reached for you before he could stop himself and you let him gather you into his arms, both of them wound tight around you so that he could crush you to his chest. This feels like the end.

“Whatever happens between us?” He spoke loudly, wanting to be sure that you heard him over the passing traffic and the wind. “Whatever we decide? It’s going to be between us and no one else, alright? My mom’s gonna know something happened over the last couple days, but I won’t confirm, so -”

“So you’re going to have to kiss me goodbye right here.” You pulled away from him, tilting your head. “Right now, because we can’t do it in your driveway, and -”

“You’re telling me it’s alright?” You nodded, tongue dragging over your lower lip. “I can do that.”

He wasted no time in kissing you - mouths connected on the side of the road, ten feet from passing traffic. You clung to him, your hands pressed to his back, Nick’s fingers gripping your shoulder blades. It was you that moved to deepen the kiss first, the tip of your tongue gliding over the seam of his lips, and Nick parted them for you without hesitation, welcoming the way it felt when you licked gently into his mouth - the same way you had so many times before. But this isn’t before. This is now.

He lifted a hand, turning it over so that he could brush your cheek with his knuckles as the kiss continued, and when you sighed into his mouth, Nick groaned, urging you even closer with his other hand as you bunched the material of his shirt between your fingers.

“I love you.” He whispered the words against your skin when you separated, both of you desperate for air. “I love you and I’m sorry and we’ll -”

“We’ll make something work.” Head tilted so that you could stare into his eyes, you nodded, your voice sounding more certain than your expression made you look. “I love you, too. So much, Nick.” You bit your lip and reached up, running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. “But we can’t stay on the side of this road forever. We need to get you home.” Yeah. I guess we do.

Before he stepped away, Nick lowered his head one more time, pressing a much softer kiss to your lips and then resting his forehead against yours. We’ll make it work somehow. Even if it’s never like this again, at least … He wouldn’t say it out loud, but even if things changed after you dropped him off and it turned out that friendship was all that was in the cards between you, the days you’d spent together felt like coming full circle. It’s what should have happened before. It’s what she deserved - a real explanation. In person. Straight from me.

You held each other for a few more seconds and then Nick straightened up, dropping both hands to your waist briefly. “Alright. I’m ready.” He wasn’t sure if that was the whole truth, but prolonging the final minutes of the trip wouldn’t do either of you any good. Briefly, you closed your eyes, but then you nodded in agreement, moving away from him and walking back to the driver’s side of the car.

He waited until you’d pulled back onto the road to reach over and take your hand, linking his fingers with yours and letting both rest atop the meat of his thigh. But neither of you spoke again, and when Nick glanced over, he saw that your cheeks were damp, tears tracking silently down them as you focused your attention ahead of you.

By the time you reached Mesa city limits, Nick was crying, too, though his grip on your hand never loosened.

—

It was a familiar feeling - pulling into the Caldwel driveway with Nick in the passenger seat, but that didn’t make it any easer, especially that night. He was still holding your hand tightly, his grip just shy of being painful, but you didn’t want him to let go. Because when he lets go, that means this is over and he’s… getting out. Neither of you had commented on the fact that the other was crying - and it didn’t seem important to. Because we’re both dealing with this in the only way we can right now. Drawing attention to your uncertainty and sadness wouldn’t do any good - so you chose to ignore it for the moment.

If he hadn’t asked you to pull over, you probably would have done it on your own, but Nick taking the lead and insisting that you stop had made your action unnecessary. And when he’d kissed you, you let yourself feel everything that you’d been trying to hold back for years. You were still angry with him - of course. You were still sad about a lot of things. You were still unsure of what the future held for either of you - together or separate. And it’s scary.

But what wasn’t scary was the way it felt to be held by him - the man you loved, and that loved you fiercely, despite what had happened. It wasn’t scary to feel the way he seemed to breathe life back into you with each movement of his lips against yours, or the way that you could feel the emotion pouring out of him - and hoped that he could feel the exact same thing coming from you. Scary wasn’t the right way to define what you felt when you thought about his questions - what happens between us? What happens next?

No. Those things were terrifying to you. And I don’t know how to handle any of it.

When you put the car in park, you finally had to pull your hand from Nick’s, but neither of you made any move to get out until he sighed, rubbing his hand over the lower half of his face. “Do you think she’s peeking out the window like she used to?”

“Definitely.” He laughed. “And if I don’t get out of this car now, I’m sure she’s going to come out to see what’s taking so long.” Yeah. You gripped the steering wheel with both hands and then took a steadying breath.

“I’ll pop the trunk for you. You can leave whatever trash you have in that bag, I’ll throw everything away before I take the car back tomorrow.” Nick was quiet for a few seconds and then said your name, waiting until you were looking at him to say anything else.

“When I get my phone activated, can I … can I call you?”

“Yeah.” Swallowing back the lump in your throat, you nodded. “Of course you can.” But. “But you should focus on getting settled, Nick. Unpack. Get yourself together. Spend some time with your mom. Take the time you need to get used to being home again before you … focus on anything else.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want me to reach out right away?” He leaned closer, frowning. “That isn’t -”

“No. I just want you to take care of yourself before you try and do anything else.” You sighed, hands still on the wheel. “I’ll be here whenever you want to talk, but if you need to take some time before you do, that’s fine. I’ll be honest and say that after these past few days, I’m… going to need some time to process it all, you know?” That got a quiet laugh from him, but you were relieved when only a few seconds later, he nodded.

“Yeah. Things … didn’t go exactly like I thought they would.” Snorting back a laugh, you dropped your chin, shoulders shaking. “They went better.” Without warning, he leaned over and put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a quick hug. “Thank you again for everything. It meant more to me than I can even say that you were there for me when I got out, and what happened after? Fuck. It…”

“I know.” You hugged him back, closing your eyes. “Nowhere else I would have rather been, Nick.”

When he pulled away, you could tell that there was more that he wanted to say but didn’t, Nick reaching for the door handle and then exiting the car. You popped the trunk for him and waited until you heard it slam shut to roll his window down, the man bending at the waist to look back in, one hand resting on the door. “Get home safe, OK? I know it’s only a couple minutes but -”

“I will.” Speaking quietly, you locked eyes with Nick one final time. “Tell your mom hi for me?” He assured you that he would, and that he’d talk to you soon, and then with one final squeeze of his fingers he let go of the door and stood, the man only needing a few steps to reach his front porch. You put the car into reverse, keeping your foot on the brake, and when you saw the front door crack open only seconds later, you started to back out of the driveway, not wanting to intrude on Nick’s reunion with his mother.

The silent car was louder than you could handle on your short drive home, and even turning the radio all the way up did little to help. When you parked in your driveway and carried your stuff from the trunk and into the house, the dark, quiet space was even more of a shock to you. It had felt empty before, the loss of Nick’s presence devastating… but after spending so much time with him in the previous days and being so close to having him back under the same roof, it was even more upsetting. But he’ll have to come over and get his stuff at some point, so…

Flipping lights on, you started to unpack your bag, deciding to throw a load of laundry in before bed. It kept you busy - until you found one of Nick’s shirts bunched up in the bottom of your bag, tangled with one of yours. I must have picked it up off the bathroom floor. I didn’t … shit. Hesitating before tossing it into the washing machine, you decided not to at the last second, slamming the lid down and starting the cycle, turning away from the washing machine with the shirt still in one hand.

You knew better - knew that you needed to let whatever happened happen, and not keep clinging to the man when it was unclear what the outcome of your situation would be. But in that moment, you needed the comfort of his scent more - especially after all of the truths that had been revealed and the things that had happened between you the previous night. One more night won’t hurt.

But one night turned into two, and then two into three, and then three into a whole week spent sleeping with Nick’s t shirt stretched out over a spare pillow … and despite the fact that he’d said he would reach out - he never did.

—

Tag list coming separately!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #fire meet gasoline #pedrostories #female reader insert #nick caldwel #nick caldwel x female reader #it's dangerous to fall in love #it's dangerous to fall in love masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #nick caldwel masterlist #please read the warnings #IDTFIL

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

Text

It’s Dangerous To Fall In love V: Certain With Desire

Pairing: Nick Caldwel (Fire Meet Gasoline) x Female Reader

Word Count: 11,123

Rating: N S F W

Chapter warnings: S M U T. The after effects of being in jail for an extended period of time.

Summary: Where did Nick go - and what happens when he comes back? Are you able to keep your distance even after admitting so many things to each other - and after he goes a step further in his attempt to apologize for what he’s put you through?

Author’s note:

I legitimately didn’t even realize that this fifth part was done and ready, so I apologize for the delay... but it’s here now.

I appreciate all of the comments and interaction on this story so far; it’s been a challenge to write, but I’ve enjoyed it.

Comments and feedback and questions are always appreciated. If you need to catch up before reading chapter 5, you can do that by clicking below.

It’s Dangerous to Fall In Love Masterlist

As you stared at the closed door, you couldn’t help wondering just how many times Nick was going to walk away from you - and how many times you were going to let him.

Loving him was one of the most complicated things you’d ever done, but it was also right up there with the most worthwhile. That’s why I can’t let go. Not completely. You wondered if it sounded as pathetic to him as it had to you when you’d told him what you really wanted - the man to kiss you, take you to bed and touch you, to tell you that he still loved you, even if it was a lie.

Baring those thoughts and emotions to him hadn’t been the plan, but the more you talked, the more time you spent with him, you began to realize that it was possible that Amarillo - and the unofficial ‘end’ of the previous chapter of his life - would be the only time that you could actually say any of it. Before he moves on. Before we go back to whatever normal means for us now.

You’d danced around real feelings and emotions in the communication that you had while he was locked up, but doing that was difficult when you were face to face. It was impossible when he was touching you - the casual brush of his fingers or the press of his palm sending a jolt of heat through your body each and every time.

And now that you knew that he wanted the same things - that he thought the bed was a temptation, too, and that he wasn’t capable of just having sex with you, you didn’t know what to say. You wouldn’t continue to beg; that was beneath you. His explanation for turning you down was solid, and you had no desire to derail whatever progress he’d made when it came to his mental and emotional states while in jail by forcing him to compromise on what he thought was best for himself. But that doesn’t make it easier, and it never will. Standing, you walked back over to your bed and began gathering your things, deciding that while he was gone, the best course of action was a shower. Then I don’t have to get up early and take one tomorrow. He can take his time.

The water was hot, cascading down your chest and over your shoulders as you stood beneath it, and even though you’d intended on using the time to get whatever emotion out that you could, you didn’t cry. You were proud of yourself for admitting the truth to Nick, even if it hurt. He’d told you that he loved you in the first letter, but you hadn’t ever said it back until the situation had forced it - and you hadn’t gone any further until that day, admitting that even though you knew it was stupid, you couldn’t just turn off the way you felt about him.

You loved Nick Caldwel, and you always would, no matter the outcome of your situation. Forgiving him would take time, but based on the way that the two of you had talked since his release - navigating through difficult conversations and finding ways to explain yourselves without resorting to arguments - you thought it was possible, even if it only mattered to you. But it matters to him, too. Slicking your hair back under the spray of the shower, you took a deep breath. He wouldn’t be trying so hard if it didn’t.

And Nick was trying. You could see it on his face in every expression he wore, feel it in the way he was holding himself back when you were next to each other. You heard it in the catch of his voice, the wavering of it as he tried to come up with the right thing to say in response to the rapidly changing emotions between you. I have to give him that. I have to … cut him some slack. Not for leaving - not yet - but for the way he was behaving in the present.

Getting dressed in your pajamas - more shorts and a t-shirt that had seen better days - you checked your phone before heading back into the bedroom, and even though it wasn’t quite midnight, it felt much later. “Bathroom’s yours, Nick. I -” Stopping in your tracks, you cocked your head to one side, eyes on your bed. “What’s… what is that?”

“My options were kind of limited.” He was sitting on the second bed, hands clasped together between his spread knees. “So I …” He stood, pressing his lips together. “I picked from -”

“You got me flowers?” Setting down the dirty clothes and your phone, you leaned over the bed and picked up the cellophane wrapped bundle that was resting on your pillow. “Nick, you -” We had a disagreement and he left to go and buy me… “Thank you.” Lifting them to your nose, you closed your eyes as you inhaled, the scent stronger than you’d thought it would be. “You were the last person … well the last man to buy me flowers.” Glancing up, you met his eyes. “You know my parents get me a bunch every year for my birthday, but aside from that, you were the only one that ever did.”

He stepped closer, his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know if I have any right to ask you this, especially after what I said right before I left a little while ago, but …” He took a breath, tongue darting out. “I’m not ready to be in any sort of relationship, and I don’t know if you’d want that with me, even though …” Even though I just told you I loved you. “But I’m gonna be in Mesa for a while, if not … for good again, and I’d like to keep in touch.”

“In touch?” Frowning, you set the flowers back down on your bed and then rounded the foot of it, head moving back and forth in confusion. “You make it sound like as soon as we get back, we aren’t going to … do you think that I’d come here and bring you back and then just … stop speaking to you?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to get my hopes up. I don’t know what people are going to say, or what you’re gonna feel when it’s not just the two of us, and …” His eyes moved to the wrapped blooms, lingering there before thy met yours again. “I walked out of your life once and I don’t want to do it again, even if it means we only talk over text or on the phone.” Removing one hand, he pointed at the bed. “A sad bunch of flowers from a gas station is a really shitty start to an apology, but it’s still me trying to -”

“Nick, I just begged you to have sex with me, I’m pretty sure that -” He stopped you with a lifted finger, the corners of his lips briefly twisting up and into a smile.

“There was no begging. You just told me what you wanted. There’s a difference.” There is, I guess. But … “Whatever happens to me in the future, I think … no, I know that I need to fix this as much as I can before I can move on.” Move on? Your eyes widened and he swore under his breath, reaching out with one hand and grabbing your wrist. “I don’t mean move on from you. I mean move on from … punishing myself for everything.” Oh. Ok, that … “But you’re in my corner right now, so -”

“I never left it.” Inching closer, you wrinkled your nose, Nick’s grip loosening so that he could hold onto your hand. “Well, I mean, I might have vacated it for a couple months while you were gone, but …” He laughed at that and so you did, too, breathing a sigh of relief. “If I gave a shit what people were saying I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t have come to Texas to speak on your behalf. I wouldn’t have driven to you in the middle of the night.” Reaching out with the hand that he wasn’t holding, you rested your palm against his cheek. “Thank you for the flowers. Yes we can keep in touch.” His fingers flexed, the man’s focus on you as you took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you at once, but you asked what I wanted, and -”

“Do you know what I want?” He paused, shifting his shoulders. I have no idea. “I want to go back to that day when you asked me to make you understand what the fuck I was talking about. I want to go back to you telling me that we could put off the wedding for a while if I needed to, and say yes.” He moved closer, his free hand moving from his side to your hip, the man cautiously touching you. “I want to look down at your left hand and see two rings there and then look at mine and see a third.” Fuck, Nick. “I want to take everything I’ve learned in the last two and a half years and go back to before any of it happened and keep it from -” Moving the hand on his face, you pressed two fingers against his lips, head moving from side to side.

“You can’t do that.” But. “You know what you can do, though?” He didn’t reply, so you continued. “You can use it now. All of it. Losing your dad and deciding to leave and going to Texas and meeting Elena and everything that happened after … because you’ve got your life back now, Nick.” And you’ve got me. “And I want to be in it, in whatever way you’ll let me.” Because I love you.

He didn’t speak, the man’s eyes locked on yours, but he did pucker his lips briefly, pressing a kiss to your fingers as his other hand tightened on your hip. You pulled your hand free from his and then dropped your other one, encircling him with both arms as you drew him into a hug. He let you - both hands flattening against your back, your mingled breaths and the sound of the air conditioner the only noises in the room.

Being held by him was just as comforting as it had been earlier - it felt right, and you didn’t want to separate. But I should, otherwise I’ll stand here all night. He said your name, both hands sliding from your back to your waist, pushing you gently away. Yeah? “Being sorry wasn’t the only thing I was talking about when I said I meant it all.” He looked nervous, eyes darting around before he closed them, nodding. When they reopened, you saw Nick there, in a way that you’d been convinced you never would again. “I love you. I never stopped. I don’t think I ever will, and I know that everything I did might make you think otherwise, but …”

You sucked in a breath, unwilling to believe what he was saying. Because it can’t be true. It can’t … he’s … “Nick…” He swallowed, waiting. “Why didn’t you just … say this before? Over the phone, or -”

“Because I needed to tell you in person. There wasn’t another option. I wanted to look you in the eye when I said it, because I knew it would probably be the last time.” You were still holding each other and you wondered if he could hear the beating of your heart, wondered if he could feel the slight tremble of your fingers as they curled against his back. “It might not mean anything right now, but I need you to know that it’s the truth. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Closing myself off after my dad died. Leaving and not looking back. Elena. Ryan. But calling you that night wasn’t a mistake. And it wasn’t just because I knew your number, or because I -” This is everything that I… that I’ve wanted to hear him say for years.

“I love you too, Nick.” Sliding one hand up the center of his back, you cut him off. “And it’s not just a part of me that does. But you already knew that.” He smiled briefly. “Might not be easy, but between the two of us, I… I think we can -”

“I’m going to kiss you right now.” He cut you off, the words leaving his mouth in a rush. “If you don’t want me to, then… stop me.” You had no intention of doing that. Nick closed the distance between you slowly, his hands still at your waist, yours pressed to his back - and only when his lips touched yours did you close your eyes, your entire body trembling at the feeling.

—

You didn’t pull away from him.

He told you what his plan was, and you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned closer, your entire body shaking as he kissed you - for real - for the first time in more than two and a half years. He didn’t want to push his luck - had no intention of it, but when you sighed against his lips, Nick couldn’t help himself.

He pulled you closer, your body flush against his, and then looped his arms around you, hands on your back. You were solid to the touch, more real to him than he’d ever hoped you’d be again, and even though you’d hugged multiple times in the previous hours and he’d gone to sleep next to you the previous night, the kiss was different.

His cheeks were damp when he finally broke the kiss to take a breath, and at first Nick thought you were crying again, but at the slight widening of your eyes and the lifting of one hand, your fingers brushing over tops of his cheeks, Nick realized that he was responsible for the tears, and that they were still tracking down his face. “No reason to cry, Nick.” You smoothed your thumb over his skin, the look in your eyes one of understanding. “I’m right here.”

He’d cried in the privacy of his room many nights after leaving Arizona, finally letting the emotions wash over him once the gravity of what he’d done had settled in, and after so long, Nick had assumed that he didn’t have more tears to shed. But I was fucking wrong. Just like I was wrong about so many things. “I’m so sorry Calabaza.” Running his hands up and down your back, he shook his head. “So goddamn sorry.”

“Is kissing me really that bad?” Your lips twitched, and he realized that you were trying to lighten the mood. “It made you cry, and you have to apologize? I think -”

“No.” He leaned in again, pressing his forehead against yours. “No, it’s not bad. Not at all.” His hands moved from your back and to your face, palms dwarfing your jaw as he tilted your head to look into your eyes. Your hand remained on his face, too, thumb stroking over the bare patch on his cheek. “I want to do it again.” He saw the expression on your face change, a fleeting moment of worry passing through your eyes before it was replaced with one of determination and acceptance.

“I want you to.” He realized then what it was - you weren’t sure that wanting him was the appropriate emotion to feel. I don’t blame her. “Nick, I want you t-” You were still nodding when your lips met for the second time, Nick’s fingers trailing down and over your throat from your jaw, yours sliding back to settle behind his ear like you’d done so many times before.

If that night was the only night he ever got to kiss you again - if you woke up the following day and decided that it had been a moment of weakness to let him near you physically, that after what he’d done, you couldn’t bring yourself to let him touch you intimately again, Nick would understand. And I’m gonna tell her that. I’m going to - But before he could pull away from you and speak, he felt you parting your lips, the tip of your tongue gently prodding at the seam of his. What? This… He reacted, though, drawing in a breath through his nose and opening his mouth to you, both hands settled on your shoulders.

The first tentative stroke of your tongue along his was all Nick needed, his hold on you tightening and a deep sigh straight from the back of his throat audible as he adjusted the tilt of his head to match yours. It was everything he’d wanted for months, despite reminding and trying to convince himself that he didn’t deserve to have you again.

It took him no time at all to lose himself in your kiss, his mind focused only on how close you were and how your hand tightened in his hair and the way you pressed your body against his, hips rubbing together. He felt his body’s reaction - blood rushing down and settling between his legs along with growing arousal coursing through his veins. If we don’t stop, I’m not gonna be able to hide the fact that I…

You were fresh out of a shower - hair damp, your skin clean and soft, and with another gasp, Nick pushed you away, his chest heaving. “Stop for a second, alright?” He swallowed hard, focused on your face. “We need to talk about something before we get carried away.” You were wary but still nodded, and even though he knew that he needed to, he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching you - or put more than a few inches of space between the two of you. “I didn’t buy condoms when I got your flowers earlier.” He paused. “And that was deliberate.” Nick said your name, trying to ignore the brief flash of disappointment he caught on your face before you forced it neutral. “When… if you and I get to that point again, it’s not going to be here. It’s not going to be in a random, out of state hotel that we’re in because you’re picking me up from jail. And I know what you’re about to say, because I know you; I don’t care if you’re still on the pill or you’ve got an implant or any of that shit. Anything else would be irresponsible as fuck, and -”

“Ok.” You nodded. “I understand.” There was a pause, and you opened your mouth again. “Did you and -” Closing it as quickly as you’d begun to speak, Nick knew what you’d been about to ask him. Did you and Elena use protection?

The answer was a resounding yes - each and every time - but he knew that he couldn’t tell you that for the same reason you couldn’t bring yourself to ask the full question. He knew that you had with whoever you’d slept with while he was gone; it wasn’t fathomable that you would have done anything else with a short term relationship. But he understood why you would question what had been the case with the other woman. And she shouldn’t fucking have to. “Whatever happens with us, I wanna do right by you this time.” He licked his lips, narrowing his eyes. “And that means that as much as I’d like to drag you into that bed right now, I know it’s better if we don’t.”

“I am on the pill, Nick.” You raised an eyebrow. “But you’re right. We’ve waited long enough, it shouldn’t… we shouldn’t … not here.” You looked away, eyes landing on the flowers that you’d set down. “I’m going to put those into some water so they make it through the night.” He didn’t say anything as you made your way through the room and grabbed the ice bucket, carrying it over to the sink and filling it halfway. Nick sat down on the end of his bed, watching you and trying to get his heart rate under control. Smart.

You then walked back to the flowers, picking them up and lifting them to your nose, closing your eyes briefly as you inhaled. You didn’t stop yourself from smiling, and you didn’t keep your eyes off of him as you did it, either - peeking up from over the tops of the bouquet. “You think they’ll last for the whole ride back?” He cleared his throat. “Maybe we can stick the ends into a bottle of water or something, put it in the backseat cupholder?”

“That’s a good idea.” You shrugged, making your way back to your bed and taking a seat on the side closest to him. “I was just thinking about stealing the bucket, but…” That made him laugh and you joined him after a few seconds, reaching up to swipe at the back of your neck. “Nick I need to be honest with you.” About? “It’s taking every single bit of self control I have to not climb onto your lap right now and -”

“Shit.” He exhaled, closing his eyes. “I shouldn’t have … I should have just…” You protested but Nick spun to face you, head whipping back and forth. “Fuck, I didn’t even -”

“Why are you constantly apologizing?” You leaned forward, eyes on his face. “I get that you’re sorry, Nick. Of course you are. But you don’t need to apologize for turning me on. You don’t need to apologize for kissing me like that. You don’t need to apologize to me because I can’t keep my body from reacting to finally being touched by you again. What did you think was going to happen?”

“Would have been easier for you if you didn’t react, wouldn’t it?” He shifted, rubbing the top of his knee with one hand. “Or if you hadn’t reacted the way you are. Then you’d know that after all this time, you could finally move on.”

“If I was going to move on I would have done it already.” You spoke so quietly that he almost didn’t hear you, but when you said his name, it was almost a plea. “We’ve both been calling this closure, but that… I don’t think that’s what this is.” I don’t either. “I love you, Nick. And I’m not sure what that means in the long term, but … it definitely doesn’t mean that I’m not going to react when you touch me or kiss me.” You arched a brow, dropping your eyes briefly. “And if this morning’s any indication, you’re just as into it as -”

“That’s not fair.” He tried to hide his grin, pressing his lips together. “The first fucking morning I’m out, I’m in bed with you, and you expect me not to react?”

“True.” You fidgeted on the bed for a few seconds. “What about just now, when we were kissing? Did you -” Is she really asking this?

“Yeah.” He didn’t look away. “If we would have kept going for much longer, I probably would have had to go into the bathroom and take care of it.” You ducked your head at that, Nick unable to hide his smile at the look on your face. “That’s another reason I stopped you. If I’m gonna tell you we can’t sleep together, it makes it a little awkward if I’m doing that with my di-” You interrupted him, lifting your chin to meet his gaze again.

“We don’t have to have sex for me to “take care of that” for you.” You used your fingers to make air quotes, voice steady. “If… you want.”

—

You understood what he was saying and why - the man clearly outlining why he couldn’t and wouldn’t sleep with you, the denial of pleasure that he was forcing on himself when it came to being close to and kissing you. But he doesn’t need to. Not if we both want… The room was silent after your offer, Nick’s brown eyes darker than usual as he stared at you, his full lower lip caught between his teeth in surprise. “Don’t tell me that you wouldn’t like to feel someone else’s -”

“Why?” He leaned in. “Why should I be the one that gets …” He dug the tips of his fingers into his eyes, swearing as he rubbed them. What? What does he mean? When Nick met your gaze again, there was determination in his eyes. “You gonna let me return the favor?” Tilting his head to one side, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Or is this going to be one of those nights like when you used to get me off and not let me touch you?” You laughed then - you couldn’t help it.

“You’re the one that keeps stopping us.” Gesturing to yourself, you uncrossed your legs before setting your hands down atop your knees. “Like I said, there’s plenty of ways to -” He stood abruptly, the man’s hands hanging by his sides. “Nick?”

“You’ll tell me the second you want me to stop, right?” He stepped closer and you watched as he curled his fingers into loose fists and then flexed them. “No matter what it is that I’m doing?”

“Of course.” Your voice little more than a whisper, you looked up at him. “And you’ll do the same?” He nodded, both hands moving back to the front of his body, and you watched as he pressed his thumb down against the tattoo, Nick’s chest rising and falling. “Oh, Nick.” Rising to your feet, you reached for him, taking both of his hands into yours and moving your thumbs over the backs of them, pulling him closer to you. “Talk to me. What’s wrong? If this is going to be an issue for you, we can just -”

“Would you believe me if I said I was nervous?” He closed his eyes. “Not about what I’m gonna do, but about … you.” Me? Why? “It should have been you all along.” it should have been but it wasn’t. He looked down, watching your joined hands. “And I’m worried that you’re not gonna tell me if you don’t want - ” Don’t do this to yourself.

“When have I ever been quiet about what I like or don’t like, Nick?” You squeezed his hand and then let go of one, that hand trailing up his chest. “Why would that change now?” When you reached the collar of his shirt, you hooked a finger into it, tugging down. “I’ll answer that for you - it won’t.” The reassurance seemed to help, Nick’s free hand moving to your hip, fingers sliding beneath the hem of your t-shirt before they made contact with your skin.

You nearly whimpered at the feeling but held it together and held eye contact, nodding. “Alright.” He took a deep breath, squeezing your hand again before he let go, his hand moving along your jaw and urging you closer, the man’s eyelids finally drooping shut as he pressed his mouth to yours. You’d never get sick of kissing him, and certainly wouldn’t ever get over the way it felt to be held by him. How could anyone?

While you knew that both of you had a lot to work through, you didn’t have to do it that night, and neither did he. We need to focus on this. So you did - holding him close and continuing to kiss him, mouths moving together in a surprisingly familiar way as he slipped his other hand against your opposite hip, rubbing his palms over your sides. When you pulled back, inhaling to fill your burning lungs with oxygen, he only hesitated for a second, hands bunching the fabric of your top between his fingers. “Yeah?” You nodded in agreement and when he began to lift your shirt, you helped by raising your arms over your head, letting him take it completely off of your body.

You’d thrown on a sports bra after your shower but it covered very little. You didn’t even try to hide your sigh of approval as Nick stared at your body, hands returning to your skin and palming it, the man leaning in and then ducking his head down to kiss your shoulder. “Wait a minute.” You tapped him on the shoulder, the man’s eyes moving up to your face. “You’re a little overdressed. Jeans and a shirt?” Head shaking slowly from side to side, you raised a brow. “Pick one and take it off.”

Not only did you want to give him the choice, you wanted to see what he’d go for first, and were unsurprised when he reached for the bottom of his shirt, arms crossed over his stomach as he removed it and tossed it to the side, along with yours. Like always, his jeans hung low on his hips, the elastic of his underwear visible above the waistband of them. Jail had slimmed him down somewhat, his arms muscled while his torso was leaner than you’d ever seen it. He had tan lines on his upper arms and neck, but the difference was slight and someone that hadn’t spent so much time looking at his bared skin likely wouldn’t have even noticed. But I do. “You’re staring.” You could hear the teasing tone in his voice and were relieved at the sound, nodding as you held up both hands in mock surrender.

“You caught me. I guess I didn’t know what to expect, but … fuck, Nick. You’re…” Reaching out, you used one hand to undo the button on his jeans. “Take these off, too. So I can -”

“You first.” He met your eyes again, your name falling off his tongue like a plea. “Let me take care of you first, alright? I know you keep telling me I don’t need to apologize, but -” He stopped, closing his eyes. “Look, it’s gonna take me about three seconds if you touch me with your bare hand, and probably less if you were to use your mouth. I just -”

You laughed - out loud, the sound bursting from your lips and you immediately pulled your hand back as you grinned. “That’s really fair, Nick. I didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry.” It was good that he was being honest - and that he was keeping the mood light, but you knew that eventually you’d both have to take that leap, one of you initiating actual contact with the other. And it has to be him. It has to be me that shows him it’s alright. “I won’t touch you until you tell me to.” Both hands going to your hips, you pushed your shorts down an inch or two and then paused. “But Nick, if you don’t touch me, I think I’m going to -”

He moved forward, hands shooting out to replace yours and when you tumbled backwards onto the bed, bouncing against the mattress, Nick was quick to follow, though he didn’t reach for your chest. Instead, he hooked his fingers in the elastic band of your shorts and tugged them down. Wasting no time, he pulled them off of your legs and dropped them to the ground before he stepped between your knees, leaning down and flattening his hands on either side of your body. “Every single inch.” What? Propped up on your elbows, you stared at him, waiting. “I’m gonna show every single inch of you how much I missed you.”

“Oh, I -” Taking a deep breath, you arched your back, leaning forward enough to kiss him again. “I like the sound of that.” You felt him smiling against your lips before he moved away from them, his mouth trailing over your cheeks and nose, pressing kisses into the corners of your eyes and then over your forehead. You wanted to touch him, but also didn’t want him to stop so you kept your hands in place, closing your eyes and letting yourself enjoy what was happening. He took his time, and when you felt one of his hands lift from the bed, reaching up to rub his thumb over your lower lip, you sighed, puckering your lips to kiss his skin. He won’t stop me from doing that.

Nick moved slowly down, lips dragging over the line of your jaw and then, after he’d repositioned his hand behind your head to tilt it back, he kissed the underside of it, his mustache tickling the thin skin. You felt the mattress dip as he raised one knee, the man giving himself a way to balance his weight. Both of his hands moved to your shoulders, fingers stroking your skin while he continued his path down the center of your throat with his lips and tongue.

He paused again at the base of it, stopping for long enough to press his lips against the dip, followed by his teeth scraping over the surface of your skin, the man moving to the left and following the line of your collarbone. The hands on your arms turned into his knuckles, the sensation vastly different than that of his mouth, and you didn’t know where to focus.

He helped you decide by biting down on your shoulder and then glancing up, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he went back to what he was doing, Nick’s mouth tracing a slow path down the inside of your arm until he reached your wrist. He lifted your hand then, mouth covering the final inches it took to reach your palm, but instead of lingering there, he used one of his hands to flip yours over, his parted lips landing against your knuckles. No, not knuckles. One specific knuckle.

He was kissing your ring finger - your left ring finger, and at the realization, you crooked your fingers beneath his chin, choking out his name and asking him to look at you. “Come here. Please.” He was confused for a second, but when you sat up, arms unnecessary to keep you upright, he understood. “I need to kiss you.” Need. Not want, Nick.

“But I’m -” He blinked, wetting his lips without letting go of your hand. “I -”

“I don’t care. You can go back to it if you want, but… just come here.” He did as you asked, threading his fingers between yours as he sought your mouth once more. It was you that deepened that kiss, the edges of your teeth capturing his lower lip and then pulling on it, the man’s mouth opening as he chased after yours.

You let him catch you - like you always had. And like I always will. That time, Nick’s kiss was almost desperate, his head cocked to one side as he pressed his lips against yours. You could feel it rolling off of him, and so you moved both hands, too, disentangling your fingers and winding your arms around his shoulders. Testing your luck, you leaned back, dragging him down with you until your back was flat against the mattress, Nick’s bare chest pressed to yours.

He didn’t let you stay that way for long, inching back and using both of his hands on the mattress to put space between you. “You aren’t playing fair.”

“Do you blame me?” Biting your lip, you shrugged. “Seize the day and all that, right?” He smiled, cheeks rounding out and the dimple appearing on one side of his face. “You can go back to what you were doing now, I’m done kissing you for the moment.” That made him laugh, but it didn’t take long for him to lower his mouth once more after shifting backwards, his kiss landing just above ethe neckline of your bra. “Want me to take that off?” Preparing to raise the top part of your body, you said his name. “It won’t take -”

“I got it.” He smiled, one side of his mouth quirking upward before his lips settled into a more serious expression. “Relax.” You did, eyes on him as he reached for the bottom edge of your bra and pushed it upward, exposing your chest to him after only a few seconds. His eyes went wide, moving so that he could take in the sight of your bared skin - and then, for the first time in longer than you cared to think about - Nick’s breath fanned out over your chest … and was almost immediately followed by his open mouth.

You cried out as his tongue flicked against the side of one breast, the man wasting no time in licking his way to the peak of it, lips closing around your nipple and then sucking, the pressure making your back bow. Oh, fuck, he… You relaxed again as he took a breath, both hands still on your body as he pushed both breasts together and then descended again, mouth moving eagerly between the two, damp skin left in the wake of his tongue.

The air conditioning ensured that your nipples remained hard - but even if it had been eighty degrees in the room, his mouth would have done the same thing, the pressure of his lips and teeth sending surges of pleasure throughout your entire body. You could feel that he was itching to continue his journey down the remainder of your torso, though reluctant to remove his mouth from your curves.

Nick ran his nose along the center of your chest - up and down - and then kissed your skin once more before his lips dropped to your stomach, hands releasing you before they slowly made their way down your ribs. He peppered your stomach with kisses, and you had to bite your lip hard to keep from writhing on the bed as his facial hair tickled your freshly-kissed skin, but Nick’s focus never wavered, the man dipping his tongue against your belly button and then going lower.

You hadn’t realized it, but he was standing again, bent at the waist as he worked his way even further down, and when you watched him sink to his knees at the edge of the bed, it was your turn for your mouth to drop open. You focused on the man’s face, watching as Nick’s shoulders rose and fell with each breath he took, eyes locked on your body as he leaned back in. When his mouth made contact with the top of your thigh, you gasped, fingers curling to grasp the blanket. How is he able to tease me like this? He has to be so fucking worked up.

He didn’t linger there, though, kissing his way inward - but Nick skipped over the center of your body and straight to the other leg, his palms on the outsides of your thighs, fingers slipping beneath the backs of them as he pulled your legs further apart. He only glanced up once, the questioning look in his eyes easy to read even though he didn’t speak. Do you want this? He would have gotten up if you’d told him to, would have immediately removed his hands if you’d asked - but you didn’t.

“Yeah, Nick. I want you.”

—

Your permission was all he needed, Nick breaking eye contact and tilting his head down, his focus entirely on what was in front of him. Part of him had wanted to fast track it down your body to bury his tongue inside of you, but he’d forced the slow path instead, giving himself time to calm down and you time to tell him to stop if you wanted to.

But your response to his mouth and hands had been more than he’d ever hoped for, your body pliant to the touch, breathing changing as he worked his way over your skin. He saw the way your fingers curled, heard the reaction to his lips against your finger, and when you’d pled with him to kiss you, he hadn’t been able to deny you.

You were letting him back in - at least on a physical level - and Nick was thankful. But he was more thankful that you were an active participant; offering to take your bra off, wanting him to remove his clothes, too, letting him spread your legs as he settled between them. You weren’t just laying there - you wanted him and were making it known.

He could smell you; sweet and musky, still one of the most alluring things he’d ever encountered. Nick had promised himself that he’d focus, not thinking about what had happened, but for a split second, he wondered why he was getting a second chance with you. Does it matter? He kissed the inside of your thigh, the tip of his nose running along the crease of your leg. No, it doesn’t. Not right now. With another slight turn of his head, Nick’s lips made contact with you - and then he stopped worrying, stopped thinking about everything but you and the way you tasted.

He used his tongue at first, parting his lips and then extending it as he licked you, his grip on your legs tightening enough that he felt your muscles tense beneath his fingers, but it wasn’t in pain. He heard you cry out, the sound a mix of his name and a strangled moan, and then he felt your hands in his hair, fingers tangling in the strands. You weren’t pushing or guiding him, just holding on, reassuring him that you were there and didn’t want him to stop - and as he retracted his tongue briefly, he smiled against your damp skin, nudging against it with his nose. Good. This is … good.

You tasted just like he remembered, and as Nick’s tongue began to move again, he lapped at you - focus shifting to covering as much skin with the flat of his tongue as he could with each swipe. You widened the spread of your legs even as you lifted one of them to drape it over his shoulder, the heel of your foot pressed against the center of his back. He kept his hand on that thigh, but pulled the other one away and brought it up between your legs, thumb pulling your skin taut to open you up just a little more.

He heard you moaning his name again, and though he didn’t stop, Nick glanced up, finding that you’d collapsed back onto the bed, one of your hands leaving his hair and falling to your stomach, fingers splayed. When he dipped his tongue into you, your lower body jerked and Nick hummed, changing the angle of his head at the same time he swiped one thumb over you in light, tight circles, just above where his mouth was. “Fuck, Nick.” Your voice was thin and broken, hips pushing forward, and when Nick pulled away so that he could take a deep - and necessary - breath, he raised his head to look at you again, the motion of his thumb not ceasing.

You were staring at him with your lips parted and your eyes halfway closed, but when you saw that he was watching, you smiled - a radiant one, your tongue swiping over your lower lip as your bare chest rose and fell. He knew that his mouth and chin were shiny and slick but he still raised his head further, pushing his lips out into an expression that was half pout, half smirk and then winked at you, tightening his fingers around your thigh.

You gasped and then laid all the way back down, Nick returning his mouth to your body. Sealing his lips over you, he stopped the movement of his thumb and instead slipped a finger into you, your body reacting immediately to the intrusion. He paused - briefly - but when you began to thrust your hips forward, taking his finger even deeper, Nick started to move it, his tongue flicking rapidly against you. I missed this. Missed this so fucking much.

You started to whine, a hand going back into his hair, and for the next few minutes, the two of you moved in tandem - Nick adding a second finger and lengthening the strokes of his tongue, his other hand still on your leg while you dug your heel into his back, hips jerking as you sought out more. But when he heard you say his name again, the sound low and full of need, he opened his eyes, looking up.

You’d propped yourself up on one elbow so you could watch, your gaze nearly burning him as your eyes met. “Keep looking at me, Nick. Keep…” His tongue joined his fingers and you squeezed your eyes shut, moaning. That sound. That fucking sound is… He was painfully hard - the material of his jeans uncomfortable even through the underwear he wore, but he was still focused on you and on the way you were reacting to him. “Fuck, Nick, please. I want to -” You hissed, nodding your head as you urged your own legs open even more. He thrust his fingers in deeper, curling them upward as he alternated between licking and sucking on your skin, the suction of his lips accompanied by the occasional gentle scrape of his teeth. You liked that - hips surging forward to drag yourself against his mouth, and Nick fought to keep his eyes open and on you. “Make me come, Nick. Ma-”

Your words stopped as he sped up the motion of his fingers, and you went from simply touching the back of his head to grasping his hair, your fingers tight among the sweat-damp strands. You were close - he hadn’t been with you in a long time, but he’d never forget the tells you had - the way your breath quickened, the quiet “oh” you managed to squeak out, the way your thumb moved independently from your other fingers - tapping rapidly against his scalp… they were all the same, and Nick felt his own heart begin racing at the thought that you were about to tip over the edge - and it was because of him.

You gasped out his name again, tightening your grip on his hair and then letting go - and then he felt your muscles fluttering around his fingers, your legs tensing as your back arched and your eyes finally closing as your mouth dropped open. That’s fucking… He groaned into you as you came, refusing to remove his mouth, though he changed the way he used it, no longer needing to work you up and instead focusing on prolonging your pleasure.

When your hips began to shake, he switched from his tongue to his lips, pressing kisses against you as he finally withdrew his fingers, the length of them coated in a pearly white that made his mouth water. Somehow, you moved your leg from his shoulder and pulled your hand away from his hair. When he was free, he rose to his full height - still on his knees - and said your name, taking a long, deep breath. You cracked your eyes open and when he knew you were watching, Nick smiled at you, licking his fingers clean before sticking the tips of them into his mouth and then pulling them free with a pop.

“Come here, Nick.” You beckoned to him with one hand, still propped up on the other elbow. “Come here and let me -” Turning his head, Nick used the bottom edge of the comforter to wipe the lower half of his face. That done, he crawled up the bed and used one knee to prop himself up above you, the hand that had been on your leg turning your head so that he could kiss the side of your neck. Before, you’d had no issues with him kissing you immediately after he’d used his mouth on you, but he didn’t know if that had changed, and didn’t want to ruin the moment with a denial of his affection. “Hey.” You pushed him away gently, saying his name again. “What’re you doing?”

“Didn’t know if -” You turned your head back, lips skating over his cheek and then landing on the corner of his mouth, a smile spreading over them.

“Nothing’s changed.” Your words were a whisper, the hand once again finding his hair. “Kiss me, you idiot.” And he did - hard and deep, the man’s mouth open against yours as your tongues met, nothing held back between you. He let himself rut against you a few times, the contact of his hips against your body making him moan loudly, and he wanted nothing more than to keep going. But I can’t. He allowed himself to kiss you for a few more seconds and then pulled back, eyes closed. I won’t. He was straddling one of your thighs as he knelt on the bed, hands falling to the tops of his knees, and when you looked up at him, there was curiosity in your eyes, along with sadness. “Nick?”

“You ready to go to bed?” He forced the words out, settling back and resting his weight on his calves. “I’m gonna go and -” You sat all the way up, both hands pulling your bra back into place, the look in your eyes almost hard.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Reaching out, you took his face between your hands. “I know we’re not going to -”

“Tonight’s not about me, Calabaza, it’s about you.” He kissed one palm, shrugging. “I’ll just go into the bathroom and -”

“No, you won’t.” You raised the leg that was between his, your thigh pressing against the seam of his jeans, and he forced himself not to react. “I’m right here, Nick. I want -”

“I don’t deserve to have you anywhere near m-” You surprised him then, leaning forward and kissing him to stop his speech. He let you, the kiss lasting for long seconds, and when you pulled away, your eyes were shining.

“That doesn’t matter tonight, alright?” You pushed his hair back and over his ear, swallowing hard. “After everything that we’ve been through, we deserve something good.” You paused. “You deserve something good. And if I’m saying that, then it has to be true.” Stunned, all he could do was stare at you, trying to figure out how to reply. I don’t know that I agree, but … “Let me take care of you, Nick. Please?”

A stronger man would have told you no. A better man would have firmly repeated that he could take care of things by himself, the same way he’d been doing it the entire time he was in jail. A decent man would have reminded you of what he’d done to you, and how he’d ruined everything.

But instead of doing any of those things, Nick nodded twice, moving to the side and kneeling next to you before he lowered himself onto his back on the mattress, one arm wrapped around your body to take you with him.

—

You’d known something was up when he hesitated with removing his jeans earlier, but you’d let it slide. And even in your post-orgasmic haze, you’d felt that he was holding himself back when he kissed you after getting back into the bed. But for the man to outright deny you the opportunity to get him off was a shock, and there was no way you were going to let it happen. No way.

As he pulled you down on top of him, the look in Nick’s eyes changed again - apprehension still there but joined with a look of contentment. Good, that’s how it should be. Any other night, you would have taken your time with him and teased the man, the same way that he’d done with you, but Nick had waited long enough. He’ll enjoy it just as much, you rationalized as you kissed him once more, the palms of your hands flat on the mattress to support your weight. “Don’t think about it, Nick.” Murmuring the words into his ear, you pulled back so that you could look into his eyes. “Just relax.” He nodded once and you shifted off of him, hands moving so that you could undo his jeans - first the button and then the zipper, Nick’s hips lifting from the bed and allowing you to pull them down. When they were below his knees, he kicked them off, freeing both legs, and then settled back against the bed, waiting.

You ran a hand down his chest and over his stomach, the heel of your hand making contact with his bulge, which was still encased in dark gray material. He groaned at the touch, continuing to make noise as your heel turned into your fingers, two of them stroking down and over him before running back up. His hips jerked, even though you weren’t touching skin, Nick’s hands gripping the blankets beneath him so hard you thought they might tear. “Can I… Can I touch y-”

“Yes.” You squeezed him through his underwear as you replied, eyes flicking back up from where your hand was and locking with his. “Fuck yes, Nick.” He only used one hand to do so, his fingers releasing the blanket and sliding across it until they could link with yours, both hands resting next to his hip. You slipped your fingers into the slit of his underwear, undoing the tiny button, and when you touched him for the first time, he hissed, back arching and his hips rising so that he could thrust himself into your hand. Yes. Just like that. Just like … Humming in approval, you wrapped your fingers around him and then pulled him free, not letting go as what you held came into view.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him - the man warm and firm in your hand - and after giving him a few slow, tentative strokes, you swiped your thumb over his tip, gathering the moisture there and spreading it. He was wrong. It’s been more than three seconds. Dragging your hand up and down again, you took a breath and then leaned over, continuing the motion of your hand as you kissed his abdomen. Following the trail of thin, wiry hair down from below his navel, you paused at the base of him, giving Nick a chance to tell you to stop. But when he didn’t - the man’s hips thrusting upward again, you turned your head and licked your lips, the tip of your tongue meeting his skin briefly, too. He yelped your name, his other hand finally moving to touch you, and at the pressure of it against the back of your head, you reacted, opening your mouth and running your lips against him - below where your hand was still working.

He groaned, the sound muffled from between his lips, which were pressed together. When you pulled your hand free from his, dragging the edges of your nails along the side of his thigh and then up and over the top, Nick brought that newly freed hand up and bit down on the meat of it, further muffling his reactions. Oh, he… he had to when he was … You stopped immediately, keeping your fingers wrapped around him, and lifted your head. “Nick.” He opened his eyes, meeting yours, the look in them almost desperate. “Let me hear you.” Flipping your hand over and using your knuckles against his leg, you nodded. “It’s OK, Nick. You don’t have to be quiet anymore.”

His eyes widened but he nodded, dropping his hand from his mouth and keeping his lips parted, the man’s breath coming out in quick pants. “Please, you…” He groaned as you stroked him again, wrist twisting a little when you reached the base. “Oh, fuck, that feels good.” You’d never heard him sound so needy, and when you lowered your head again, tongue extended, you heard him say your name, the end of it sharply cut off as you licked his skin, the plush feel of him against your tongue snapping you back to when you’d been together, your own eyes squeezing shut as you let out a low whine. “Calabaza, I -”

That was all you could stand, dragging your tongue over his slit and then closing your lips around his head, taking him into your mouth with a low hum of pleasure. His reaction let you know that he could feel the vibration of your throat, Nick’s entire body shivering as he fell all the way back and laid against the mattress.

Your hand and mouth moved together, fingers covering what you couldn’t take between your lips, and even though you tried to lose yourself in what you were doing, you couldn’t let go completely. Instead, you kept an ear out for changes in his breathing, tried to focus on the movement of his body and the tensing of his muscles in an attempt to ensure that you knew at least a few seconds before he was going to come. And he wasn’t quiet, the man’s breathing punctuated by gasps and grunts, quiet repetitions of “oh, fuck” and “shit” reaching your ears and putting a smile on your face, even though none of it changed your rhythm.

He surprised you, though, his hips jerking upward and forcing more of himself into your mouth, your grip loosening as he hit the back of your throat. You gagged, pulling off of him with a surprised cough. Ow. He hadn’t done it on purpose, but Nick called out your name, both hands pushing against the bed as he struggled to sit up. “I didn’t mean t-” He looked worried, and you were quick to wave him off, hand still wrapped around him, your skin and his slick from your mouth.

“It happens.” You looked down and then back into his eyes, continuing to take steady, deep breaths. “You ok, Nick?” The apology still on the tip of his tongue, he nodded twice, lip curling when you dragged your thumb over his tip again. “Good.” Adjusting the position of your knees, you leaned forward, pressing your lips against the inside of one thigh. Before you got the chance to take him back into your mouth, Nick said your name quietly, one of his hands moving to cover the one you still had wrapped around him. “Hmm?”

He didn’t say anything, just tightened his hand over yours and nodded, urging you to move again with a single flex of his wrist. I can do that. The two of you worked together - the pressure of Nick’s hand guiding yours, the rest of him sliding against your tongue with every dip of your head. With him helping you, you knew it wouldn’t take him long to tip over the edge - and that was confirmed barely a minute later when Nick squeezed your hand, a long, low grunt following.

“Gotta stop. Gotta stop unless you -” He hissed when you didn’t halt your movement, giving him a tiny shake of your head and twisting your wrist as much as you possibly could under his grip. “Shit. Shit, Cala… shit.” He was panting as you increased the speed of your mouth - continuing to work him over, tongue flat against the underside of him and flicking against every bit of skin it could reach.

You wanted him to come - wanted him to fill your mouth, wanted to hear him say your name the same breathless way that had echoed in your mind in the months that you’d been apart. Only a few seconds later, you got your wish, his muscles tensing and then jerking beneath your touch, hips stuttering at the same time his grip on your hand tightened further. You squeezed his thigh, moaning as you got a taste of him. When you pulled back enough so that you could actually swallow, you felt him shudder again, the man saying your name with reverence as his hips continued to move.

His hand fell away from yours and you confirmed with a quick glance upward that it moved to rest against his stomach. The man’s bent fingers twitched as you continued to suck, your lips sealed around him. Releasing him with a quiet pop, you took a breath, opening your eyes before you returned your mouth to his skin, tongue darting out to finish cleaning him up. But Nick didn’t let you, both of his hands rising and moving to your shoulders, fingers curling as he urged you back up toward the top of his body.

You let him pull you, adjusting the position of your legs so that you didn’t accidentally hit him with either of your knees. When you finally got eyes on his face, you could see that he was smiling - the man’s expression totally relaxed for the first time in as long as you could remember. “Hey, you.” He spoke first, clearing his throat. “Get up here.” You did, stretching out on your side but leaning over so that you could nudge his nose with yours, eyes closing again before you pressed your lips to his mouth. Nick’s hands began to roam over your back, but both of you kept quiet, catching your breaths and steadying yourselves.

Pulling away, you settled your head against the pillow and then bent one knee, lifting it and laying it over his leg. Nick’s hand dropped to your waist, urging you closer so that your entire front was pressed to his side, and for long moments, both of you just laid there, neither of you wanting to break the silence. But one of us has to. When the rise and fall of his chest was even, you cleared your throat quietly, the palm of your hand resting against his chest. “One of us has to get up and turn the light off.” You mumbled the words, eyes drooping shut. “Plug my phone in so the alarm goes off, too.”

But still, you didn’t move, the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm lulling you to the edge of sleep. This is how it should be all the time. You had the thought before you could stop it, head turning enough so that you could kiss the front of his shoulder, but then Nick moved, the action forcing your eyes open and a sleepy “what?’ from your mouth.

“Hey, it’s fine. Just stay here, alright?” He spoke quietly, rolling away from you before you could question it, and you racked one eye open, watching to see what he was doing. You followed his movement as he got out of bed, reaching down for his underwear and then heading into the bathroom. You knew that you’d have to get up, too, but you were exhausted, your body still recovering from what the two of you had just done. It hasn’t felt like this for me in …

You dozed off, waking only when the mattress dipped, Nick leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek, the faint scent of mint reaching your nose. “Hmm?”

“Do you want to get dressed, or -” He paused, fingertips moving slowly over your temple. “Or sleep like this? I’ll cover you up, and -”

“Wanna sleep with you.” You opened both eyes, head turned so that you could look up at him. “Like this.” He looked uncertain but didn’t tell you no, and when you reluctantly forced yourself into a sitting position, you sighed. “Let me go and…” You yawned, eyes squeezing shut as you covered your mouth with the back of one hand. “Will you be in this bed when I get back out here?”

There was a long pause, but then he answered, voice hesitant. “Yes.” When you opened your eyes and saw the look in his, you reached forward, thumb arcing over the line of his jaw slowly. Good.

“Be right back.” Following his lead and picking up your shorts, you slipped them on before you stood, walking into the bathroom and speeding through your nighttime routine before flipping the main light switch off and heading back to the bed. He’d plugged your phone in, the tiny clock icon at the top letting you know that the alarm was set, but Nick was still sitting upright in the bed, bare-chested, though he had the blankets pooled on his lap. “What’s wrong?”

“I missed you so much.” He looked up, a pained expression on his face. “And this just … made me remember how much.” Yeah, me too. You climbed in next to him, using both hands to turn his face toward yours.

“That makes two of us.” Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his, letting them stay there for longer than you’d initially planned to. “We should sleep. Got a long drive tomorrow.” He didn’t argue, and when you both laid down, it was Nick that moved to wrap his arms around you first. He pulled your back against his chest and rested his chin on your shoulder, curling his body around yours under the blanket - the mirror image of the way things had been just before he’d left home years earlier.

You were almost asleep when he spoke, breathing the words into your ear at the same time his arm tightened around your waist. “Love you.” It woke you up fully, the man freezing behind you, followed by the almost immediate loosening of his arm, a sure sign that he was about to tear himself away from you. No. No, you do not get to do this to yourself. You didn’t even think about it, turning your head toward him and clearing your throat.

“I love you too, Nick.” You sighed, scooting back enough so that you were pressed against him again, heart pounding as you nodded. “It’s ok.” He relaxed without replying, and as you felt his breaths even out again, you finally closed your eyes, too. It has to be.

What had happened that night probably hadn’t been the best idea, but both of you had needed it desperately, even if it was for very different reasons. Nick’s breaths lengthened, and when you were certain that he was sleeping, you allowed yourself to drift again, too. The last thought you had that night was about how difficult a position the two of you were in - and how much the earlier admissions by both of you had likely complicated things.

—

tag list coming separately !

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

Text

It’s Dangerous To Fall In Love III: I’m Burning Alive

Pairing: Nick Caldwel (Fire Meet Gasoline) x Female Reader, Nick Caldwel x Elena Ruez (Heidi Klum’s character)

Word Count: 13,155

Rating: M

Chapter warnings: This is VERY angsty friends. But it’s necessary.

Summary: It’s not as easy as either of you think to be in such close proximity ... but you’re trying. There’s a lot that both of you want (and need) to say - but are they all things that the other person is going to want to hear?

Author’s note:

I am so happy that all of you seem to be enjoying Nick so much. I know that there’s a LOT of story to get through before things can really get going for them ... but they have a limited amount of time in this hotel room, so when things get going, they really GO.

I appreciate the feedback that I’ve gotten on parts 1 and 2 so much - hope you like this one, too.

Thank you for reading. As always, I would love to know what you think.

It’s Dangerous to Fall in Love Masterlist

Seeing him again was strange. Being in his arms again was even stranger - but you were surprised to find that you didn’t mind the feeling of those arms around you as much as you thought you would after everything that had happened. And he really does seem like he’s been working out.

The car ride back, even though short, was somewhat tense, and you felt like an idiot for not anticipating the fact that he hadn’t done anything alone in over a year, so your offhand comment about the quality of the hotel had come off much differently than you’d wanted it to. But at the same time, he was quick to diffuse the situation, and you were just as quick to reply in kind - so you didn’t think that the day was ruined. I hope not.

His question about the air conditioning had taken you completely by surprise, though it shouldn’t have. You’d roomed together enough that he knew your habits, but the fact that it had been almost three years since you’d traveled together - and he still remembered? You wondered exactly what Nick had focused on during his time away - both from Arizona and while in jail.

You’d known that he wasn’t going to want you to leave the room, but you’d still offered, because the one thing that you’d told yourself before heading to the airport was that you wanted to give him as much autonomy as you could in the days you had with him. It would take time for him to readjust to being out in public, and if there was any way you could make the transition easier for him, you’d do it. Always.

He’d taken a shower - a long one, and when he came out of the small bathroom completely dressed and wearing a different t shirt than he’d had on when you picked him up, you’d taken a few moments to stare at him over the top of your book. His hair was damp and tousled, a new scar peeking out from his hairline and another on his nose. You wanted to ask him questions - wanted to know more about what he’d been through and the parts of the legal process that you hadn’t been around to witness and couldn’t read about online, but it wasn’t your place. If he wants to tell me, he’ll tell me.

The man settled onto the other bed, leaning back against the pillows and when he turned the TV on, you smiled, watching from the corner of one eye as he flipped through channels. It felt normal, and as music from your laptop played through your headphones, blocking out the sound of whatever he was watching, you let your mind wander. You wondered how he was feeling with so many changes in only a few hours - now clean, warm and comfortable, laying in a soft bed and with a large TV on the channel of his choice.

Returning to your book, you turned the volume on your headphones down so that you’d be able to hear him if he tried to get your attention. Nick spent a few minutes looking for something to watch and then reached for the table between the beds, setting the remote down and then wrapping his fingers around your phone. Oh, shit.

Pushing into an upright position, you pulled one earbud out, eyes going wide. “Wait, let me unl-” But before you got it all out, his finger was tapping against the screen and you felt your cheeks burn with shame at the fact that after nearly three years, you still hadn’t changed the passcode. Shit. “Nick…”

“It’s still my birthday.” He stared at the device, lips turned down into a frown. “Your phone’s password is still…” Setting the phone back down on the table, he stood, using one hand to scrub at his face - freshly cleaned, though he hadn’t trimmed his facial hair at all. “I need a minute.” Nick’s eyes met yours and you saw panic in them, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I need…” Shaking his head back and forth, he looked down at the table and then reached out again, grabbing one of the room keys before turning and heading for the door, only stopping long enough to shove his feet back into his shoes.

The door closed behind him moments later - and once again, you were left alone in a room, the sight of Nick’s broad shoulders the last you saw of him.

—

It had been second nature to him to unlock your phone. You’d done it countless times with each other’s devices when you were together, and he hadn’t even thought about it when his face wasn’t recognized and prompted him for the code. But the fact that it had worked had stunned him. Because it means that she didn’t…

He’d left you. He’d abandoned you with a bullshit explanation and no real apology. He’d roped you into his criminal actions and then walked away from you again, and your phone’s passcode was still his birthday, nearly three years later. Why? Why is…

He found himself outside of the hotel, walking toward the courtyard you’d mentioned and lowering himself to sit on one of the benches that surrounded the fire pit. The sun was still high in the sky, though it was partially blocked by the building, and for a few minutes, the man sat there and enjoyed the feeing of it on his skin - the back of his neck and his arms, the heat of it caressing his cheeks. He’d been outside plenty while locked up, but the air felt different in the shadow of the hotel. It took a few minutes, but Nick finally calmed his racing heart, both hands gripping the edge of the bench he was sitting on. Get it together, Caldwel.

The shower had been everything he’d hoped for, and he spent much too long under the hot spray, eyes closed and both hands pressed flat against the tiled surface of the walls. He lathered up the loofah twice, soaping up his body and then watching as the residue ran down the drain, the scent of it overwhelming him because it was yours - and the same was true for the shampoo and conditioner he used on his hair, long fingers massaging his scalp leisurely as he kept his eyes closed.

It was easy enough for him to pretend that everything was normal then, that when he got out of the shower, he could just wrap the towel around his waist and walk back into the bedroom, climbing into the bed next to you before you decided what you were going to do with the rest of the day. It was easier still while he was standing in front of the mirror and brushing his teeth, his eyes roaming the counter and your scattered products - makeup and perfume, your toothbrush, a small bottle of lotion.

But the fact that you were there - that you’d come to pick him up, that you were giving him a place to sleep, that you’d said he could stay until Thursday was only a kindness on your part. It meant nothing more, and so he got dressed again and used one of the smaller towels to partially dry his hair before heading back out to the room that you were in, climbing into the spare bed without even looking over at you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to - he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and he didn’t think that either of you were ready for the conversation that would follow.

But reaching for that damn phone and unlocking it like he was so used to doing had sped up the timeline, forcing a reaction from you - and from him, too - and he knew that when he went back, having that conversation was unavoidable. And I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to ask. He took a deep breath, raising his head and turning it toward the indoor pool room before letting his mind wander again.

He felt your presence before he saw you, and when you stepped into his line of sight he blinked you into focus, teeth digging into his lower lip and his fingers loosening from the wood, both hands moving to his lap. You didn’t speak, but you did sit down across from him, leaning forward and staring at the dark fire pit. Say something. Please say something, otherwise - “I thought you were going to come back.” Voice quiet, you finally started talking without looking up.”Even though I know how stubborn you are, I still thought you were going to come back after a week or two. I thought one day I’d get home from work and you’d be sitting on the couch, waiting.” He said your name, interrupting, but you didn’t let him, holding up one hand. “I waited to cancel the wedding, Nick. I waited three weeks after you left until your mom told me that you were staying with a friend in Vegas, and that you’d told her you were headed out East afterward.”

“I did go to the east coast.” He cleared his throat. “Went from Henderson to Atlantic City, and -” He sighed. “I was in Philadelphia the day we were supposed to get married. I spent that night getting drunk on -”

“Do you know what I spent that night doing?” You finally looked at him, your eyes filled with tears that he could tell you were trying to keep from spilling. “I spent our wedding night with your mom and my parents, and I had no fucking clue where you were.” You rolled your eyes at him, reaching up with one hand to wipe beneath them. “You told me that you didn’t want us to lose each other and that’s why you left, but you fucking abandoned me, Nick. You don’t think that losing your dad was hard on me, too? You don’t think that seeing the way your mom took it scared the shit out of me?” Tapping on your chest, you narrowed your eyes. “It did. The idea of losing you terrified me, but the risk was worth it. It would have been worth it to be with you for the next fifteen or twenty or thirty or fifty years.” You were crying, not even attempting to stop yourself, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out for you. “But instead of losing you after a lifetime together, I lost you before we even got one.”

Instead, he kept his hands on his lap, fingers loosely balled into fists as your words carved through him, widening the pain that he’d felt in his chest since the night he’d gotten the call about his father. I deserve this. I deserve all of this. She has every right to say these things to me. You paused, taking a deep breath, and then you began to cry harder - but you still didn’t look away.

“I tried to make myself hate you. I tried to listen to my friends - and yours - that told me how much better I deserved, how you leaving was the worst fucking thing that you could have done, that if you came back, I should tell you to fuck off.” You should. You should have when I called, too. “I tried to date again. Went out with a couple really nice guys, Nick. They made me smile and they made sure that I had fun.” It was like you were twisting a knife into his chest, and Nick knew that he had no right to feel that way - especially with the way he’d been with Elena. But that doesn’t make it easier to hear. “I should hate you, Nick. I should despise you, for what you did.”

You stood, rolling your eyes and reaching into your pocket, pulling your phone out and holding it up. What does… “I -”

“But I couldn’t even bring myself to change my fucking phone’s lock code.” You stepped closer, dropping the device onto his lap, both of Nick’s hands scrambling to catch it so that it didn’t fall and break. “You left me all alone for a year and spent 6 months of that with a married woman that ended up landing you in jail and even after that, I couldn’t even hate you enough to change a goddamn six digit code on my phone.” Sniffling, you used the heel of your hand to wipe more tears away. “What does that say about me, hmm?”

You didn’t wait for an answer, spinning away from him and heading back toward the hotel.

—

When you got back to your room, you locked yourself in the bathroom and collapsed onto the floor. Pressing your back and shoulders against the door, you let yourself continue crying, the tears streaming down your face. It’s so stupid. I’m so stupid.

You hadn’t changed the code in the beginning out of habit, telling yourself that it was just a series of numbers and nothing more. And then, after you’d canceled everything, you still hadn’t changed it because you hadn’t wanted to think of a new one - entering in the code was muscle memory for you. And then after he’d called - and you’d helped in Globe, you still hadn’t changed it because seeing him had done something to you, reigniting the feelings of affection and anger in the same few hours.

To be truthful, your phone’s lock code was the least of your worries when it came to him using the device, but of course, it was the one that you hadn’t even considered that the man would need to use in order to make the call you’d told him he could. It always unlocks with my face. I didn’t even think about him needing to type anything in. Nick using the code was one thing, but if he would have done any sort of digging through the rest of it, he would have found that all of your pictures were still there, and so were your text messages. You hadn’t blocked him. You hadn’t erased him - at least from the device.

Your house, on the other hand, was a different story.

Nick’s clothing and the personal items that he’d left were packed away and stored in the basement. The pictures of the two of you were 99% put away - only a few of them that featured his parents or yours, or larger groups of friends were left out, though they’d been moved so that they weren’t as prominently displayed.

You’d done what you could to remove most traces of him from your day to day life, but even being careful and thorough hadn’t completely done that … and now he knew it. And what will he think of it? Not that you thought he’d ever see it, especially when it came to the house.

You figured that as soon as he got back to Mesa, Nick would go home, moving back in with his mother while he made plans for his future. You hoped that was what he would do; the woman missed him immensely, and they had a lot to catch up on. But I don’t know. I didn’t think this through, and now …

Your parents were surprised at the way you’d let Nick back into your life, but they were content to let you make your own choices, even though the criminal aspects of what he’d done didn’t make them happy. His mother also understood - the woman becoming one of your go-to people during his imprisonment while the two of you traded stories about what was going on. She never told you anything that crossed a line, but he was much more forthcoming with the entire truth with her, and she in turn was the same with you.

Your friends on the other hand? They knew that you’d helped Nick, and that you occasionally wrote to each other, but that was the extent of it. They didn’t know that you’d traveled to Texas to bring him home. They didn’t know that you were offering him a a room to stay in.They didn’t know how conflicted your feelings still were for the man that had destroyed your trust and broken your heart. And I don’t know if I want to tell them, because I don’t think they’ll understand.

But before you had to make that decision, you’d need to make one when it came to Nick himself, because unless he left with nothing, he’d come back to the room… and you’d have to face him. Covering your face with both hands, your shoulders shook as you cried, the memory of the shocked look in his eyes when he’d typed the number seared into your mind.

It had only taken a few minutes of sitting in silence in the room after he left for you to move, climbing out of the bed and beginning to pace at the foot of it, fingers pressed to your lips. You wanted to go after him - wanted to say something, but you didn’t know what you could say. Would he want an explanation? Would he want some sort of admission? Did he even care? You thought he did; Nick wouldn’t have made such an effort over the previous months if he didn’t care at all, but telling him why the code was still the same was just the first step in ripping off the bandaid, and you weren’t ready to bleed again.

The desire to know he was OK won out, though, and so you grabbed your phone and the second key and started looking for him, deciding to start outside. He was on one of the benches near the gazebo, and when you saw him - hunched over and looking despondent, you felt all of the emotions that you’d kept inside for the previous months bubbling up and over. You said more than you intended to, but all of it was true - and as the words came out, Nick focused on you from his seat on the bench, you realized why you were so upset: you hated that he still had such a large place in your mind and heart. You hated that he was right there, yet still so far away - and that all you wanted to do was bring him closer, even though you knew that it would likely end in more heartbreak.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you moved to the sink and turned the cold water on, splashing it against your face and hoping that by the time he came back, he wouldn’t be able to tell that you’d cried over him. Again. Cried over him again. That hope was dashed, though, when you heard the main door close and then quiet footsteps cross the floor. Shit. Blinking as you stared at yourself in the mirror, you took a deep breath and held it, palms pressed flat against the countertop. Go out there. Go out there and see what he says. Go out there and - A quiet knock on the door interrupted you and you blew the breath out, lowering your head. He said your name - not your nickname, your real name, and you heard how timid it was, even though the door. “Can we talk?”

You couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, and so you moved to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open, Nick standing about a foot away, his arms crossed over his chest. Your phone was sitting back on the table, and when you met his eyes, you also saw that the look in them was one of worry, almost like he thought you were about to kick him out instead of reply. I wouldn’t. “We can, Nick.” He deflated in relief, and you continued. “But I don’t… I don’t know what kind of conversation this is going to be, so we should get you something to eat first.”

“Are you sure?” He backed off, uncrossing his arms and letting them fall to his sides. “I can wait.”

“You’ve waited a year and a half. I’m upset and we have a lot to talk about, but I don’t want you to be hungry.” And I need some more time to think.

—

He had to admit that you were right. The food helped, and he couldn’t hold back the groan of happiness at the taste of his first greasy hamburger in almost two years. He’d passed on traditional fast food like Whataburger and Burger King for a restaurant called Buns Over Texas, and it had been the right call.

He overindulged - a burger and cheesy tots, a large Coke and a milkshake for dessert - but it was worth it, and when he’d finished he leaned back in his seat, sighing contentedly. You’d spoken throughout the meal, but it wasn’t a lot, and he figured that it was a mixture of you not wanting to get into anything in public and you just wanting him to enjoy his first meal as a free man. But whatever the reason, it’s fine. It’s fine because this is … normal. Over the coming months, Nick knew that he’d experience a lot of things that would remind him that he was still adjusting to being out, and as small a thing as it was, he was happy that at least a few of those first memories would be shared with you. Even if it’s just the first ones.

The meal ended far too soon, and when the two of you were sitting back in the car, you turned to face him, voice soft. “Is there anything else you need before we go back?”

“A beer?” He frowned again. “Maybe not for right now, but I might want one later, and I didn’t see a bar in the hotel.” You nodded, pulling back out onto the street, and after a quick detour to a gas station right next door to where you were staying, the two of you were back inside, a 6-pack chilling in the mini fridge. He knew that the two of you needed to start somewhere - that once you began talking, it would be easier… and so he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Do you have anything you want to ask me? I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Chancing a look at you, Nick saw that you were sitting cross-legged on the bed, hands clasped together in your lap while you stared in his direction. He had no idea where you’d start, but figured it wouldn’t be with the fact that your phone’s passcode was still his birthday.

He was right.

“Have you talked to her? Since you testified, I mean?” You looked away, focusing for a few seconds on the darkened TV screen and then returned your gaze to him. “I didn’t know if you were allowed to -”

“I haven’t.” He cleared his throat, seeing the look of relief that flashed in your eyes. Did she really think I wanted anything to do with Elena? “Last time I saw her was when I was in court with her, and she wasn’t too happy to see me then.” His lips twitched. “I don’t have anything to say to Elena. I said everything when I was on the stand. I’m ready to move on.” I know it won’t be that easy, but I can try. “You and my mom were pretty much the only people on the outside I talked to, and she was the only one that came to visit.” He pressed down briefly on the tattoo on his hand as he spoke, brows furrowed. “It’s going to be weird being back in Mesa. I’m sure everyone knows what I did, and -”

“They do.” You cut in, sighing. “A lot of our friends, Nick? They don’t know what to think. They were shocked when they heard what happened, but they all said it was really responsible of you to go back. None of them think you’re dangerous or anything, as far as I know, but … it might be a little weird when you see them again.”

“I figured.” He looked down, focused on the way his fingers were linked. “Maybe I shouldn’t stay in Mesa. Maybe it would be easier to start over somewhere else.” He’d been thinking about it for weeks, trying to decide what the best choice for himself would be, but your appearance outside of the jail had thrown him. “At least I’m not a felon, so I have options.”

“You do.” You shifted. “You have options.” You went quiet again, and Nick used the opportunity to stare at you, thinking. “I’m sorry I blew up on you earlier. The last thing I want to do is stress you out. I know that today is… hard for you.” You tried to smile but he knew it was strained, the expression not reaching your eyes.

“You have every right to be upset. I thought it would be worse, actually.” He moved to the edge of the bed toward you, putting his feet flat on the floor. “Listen to me.” He said your name then, resting his forearms on his knees and leaning closer. “I appreciate every single thing you have done for me over the last 18 months. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve your kindness or your attention or your time or your forgiveness.” He shifted again, moving just a little closer. I’m testing my luck here. “What I did to you was wrong. What I did to you was cruel. I don’t understand why you didn’t hang up immediately when I called you in the middle of the night. I don’t understand why you got in your car and drove so fucking far and then stayed. I don’t get why you helped me or why you’re even here right now, but know for a fact that I don’t deserve any of it. I don’t deserve you. You have nothing to apologize for with me, and you never will.”

You seemed surprised at the words, lips parting as you stared at him. “Nick…” You moved too, but instead of getting closer, you curled in on yourself, pulling a pillow onto your lap and wrapping both arms around it. “How can you not understand?” I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that. “How can you not understand why I answered or why I came to you or why I stayed?” Standing, you moved over to where your bag was, bending over and unzipping it. “How do you not understand why I’ve carried this around with me since the day you handed it to me?” It’s my letter. It’s… fuck. “Do you really not know why I’m here, Nick? Why my phone’s passcode is still your goddamn birthday and I’m offering you a place to stay until you’re ready to go home?”

“Because I have no one else.” He ran a hand through his hair, swearing under his breath. “Because you know I have no one, and -”

“Because I still care about you, Nick. Because part of me still fucking loves you and -”

“You shouldn’t.” His heart was hammering in his chest, the man barely able to keep his composure. “You shouldn’t still -” “Yeah, well, it looks like we’re both guilty of doing shit that we shouldn’t, aren’t we.” You dropped the letter onto the bed, tilting your head back so that you could look up at the ceiling. He saw your lower lip trembling as you tried to steady your breath, but he was frozen on the bed, limbs locked in place. She can’t honestly mean these things. “I’ll never understand why you left. Not completely. But you never lied to me, Nick, so I know that no matter how much of a bullshit excuse it was when you went, you believed it was the only thing you could do. And that’s why this all hurt so much, because … because if you would have stayed we could have worked through it and you would have seen -”

You were crying again, and the sight of your tears - controlled and slow, not the angry, frustrated ones from earlier - he finally moved, standing and closing the distance between you even though he kept his hands at his sides. “I…” He closed his eyes. You’ve waited three years. Fucking say it. “I meant what I said in that letter. All of it.” He took a half step forward, his right hand reaching out and then retracting, fingers curling, the ends of his nails digging into his palm. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I should have come home. I loved you so much, and I know that what I did wasn’t the right way to go about it.”

Saying the words came with a rush of relief, Nick’s posture going loose as he finally admitted out loud what he’d wanted to tell you for years. It’s all out there now. For both of us. “I’m glad to hear you say that. But it’s too late, Nick.”

—

You hadn’t wanted to admit everything to him. It hadn’t been the plan, even after he’d unlocked your phone, but once you’d opened your mouth, you couldn’t stop. It was like everything that you’d kept inside for the entire time he’d been gone was coming out, and there wasn’t anything that you could do to stop it.

Your emotions fluctuated between angry and happy, and even though you knew that what he was saying was the truth - that he was sorry, that he didn’t know what he was going to do next, that he was thankful for you and everything you’d done - you couldn’t focus on them. Why did you ask him about Elena? You had no right - it was none of your business.

But part of you - the jealous part that was still angry that he’d found someone and got so caught up in them so quickly - needed to know. You needed to know, because that information was what you planned on basing the things you said to him on. Because if he still talked to her? If he was writing to me and writing to her at the same time … It would have broken your heart all over again, so when he admitted that no, he hadn’t been in touch, it changed everything for you.

It took pulling the letter out again to really let yourself go, the words pouring out of your mouth faster than you could stop them, and to your surprise, he’d reacted positively. How could he not have known? How can he not tell? You loved him, and you always would, no matter what the outcome was, and even though it hurt to admit it because it made you feel weak, it was the truth. And he’s been honest, so I need to be, too.

Hearing Nick tell you that he should have come home and that he meant what he’d said made you sway on your feet, but you were quick to reply, willing your voice to stay steady. “It’s too late, Nick.” And it was - it had to be. Not because you didn’t still love him too, or because you didn’t still want to reach out and let him take you into his arms, but because there was no good that would come from it.

You still loved him, but you didn’t know if you could ever forgive him. You were happy to see him, but didn’t know if you wanted it to happen often. You were thrilled that he was a free man again, but you were unsure how knowing that he was only a few miles from your house at all times would make you feel. But he’s not a few miles away. He’s right here. He’s right here and we’re here until Thursday, and …

“I know.” He reached out to you then, cautiously setting a hand on your shoulder, his fingers spreading wide before he squeezed. “I know it’s too late, but I still wanted to tell you.” Everything in you wanted to pull away from him, jerking your shoulder from his grasp, but instead of doing that, you looked into his eyes, head tilted to one side. “Writing it’s one thing. Saying it out loud is another. I never stopped loving you.”

Reaching up with his other hand, he used the tips of his fingers to touch your cheek, his eyes also shining with unshed tears. “I know.” You moved first that time, leaning in and sliding your arms around his body as you pressed your cheek against the center of his chest, and it took Nick no time at all to return the embrace, his head lowered so that he could bury his nose in your hair. It felt like a goodbye - like the closure neither of you had gotten when he walked out of your house without looking back. And it also felt good, to have his arms around you in a hug that had nothing to do with gratitude and everything to do with years of repressed emotions.

It struck you then that the last person Nick had held the way he was holding you had been her, and a fresh round of tears sprang forward, falling from your eyes and dampening the material of his shirt. He said he didn’t love her, but I know what it’s like to be with him, and it … he… that was his last … “Please stop crying.” He was stroking the back of your head, his lips moving along the crown of it. “Please, Calabaza, it’s breaking my heart.” The use of your nickname only made it worse, and before you could stop yourself, you were stepping forward, urging him over to the couch. It’s safer than the bed, because I don’t trust myself right now.

When the two of you were seated - Nick’s legs stretched out on chaise portion and you curled up against his side - you spoke again, feeling the arm around your shoulders tighten. “What do we do now, Nick?” Your hand was running slowly up and down his side, his shirt soft beneath your palm. “I didn’t plan on saying any of this. I just wanted to be here and make sure you got home alright. I didn’t want to make this harder, and now I feel like that’s all we’ve done.”

“I told people about you.” He paused, the hand on the arm that wasn’t around you squeezing his thigh. “Other inmates, I mean.” You did? “Showed ‘em your picture, too. The one that you sent of us and my parents?” You’d debated cutting yourself out of it when you sent it, but had opted not to - it was a really good picture, and you wanted him to have the whole thing. “They told me I was a fucking idiot for leaving you. Said they didn’t understand at all, especially when I told them that you’d helped me out after everything.”

“I called myself an idiot, too.” You sighed, eyes closed as you focused on the man’s breathing, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. “Before and after. Especially after.” He laughed at that, and you felt your chest growing tight at the sound - and at the way it made you feel. “Did you make friends inside, Nick? That’s a weird question, but -”

“I did. A couple. I just tried to keep my head down and get through my time, but a couple of the guys were nice. It’s not like you see on TV, at least where I was. Guards were nice unless you gave ‘em a reason not to be, people weren’t always ruthless and looking for a fight. I wasn’t with the really dangerous people - my cellmate was in there for aggravated robbery, but he didn’t even attack anyone, he just had a knife on him when it all went down.” Nick paused, tightening his hold on you at your sharp intake of breath. “And after a while, it was just … something I had to deal with every day. I did my job, kept my head down, and got through it. Your letters helped. The stuff you sent me helped. I actually traded a couple things with other guys, earned favors and all that. The prison barter system can be really efficient when someone’s got stuff constantly coming in like I did.”

“Well, you’re welcome. I’m glad to know that the books and magazines served a purpose.” Because it’s not like I could send him anything else.

“It wasn’t just that.” He sighed, shifting his lower body beneath you. “You’d be surprised at how many people don’t even get enough sent to ‘em to buy anything extra. Because of you, I had a very lucrative instant soup and candy trade line going.” You laughed at that - hard - and stretched one arm around him, squeezing his midsection. “I looked forward to going shopping at the commissary every couple weeks, but the truth is that I looked forward to the letters more.”

“Did you?” Sitting up, you looked at his face, the man’s lips curved up into a soft smile. “I’m glad. I kept all of the ones you sent me. They’re at home, in a box.” Surprise flashed in his eyes, Nick’s brows shooting up. “I didn’t decide that I was coming here this week until a little while ago, so I thought … I thought that those letters might be it, Nick.” I really did.

“Can I ask you something?” You nodded, curious about what he’d say next. “Is it too late for us to be friends?” You knew the answer to that immediately, but hesitated before saying anything back to him. “Not right away, I mean. I know it’s gonna take time, but I want to… I want to make this right… now that I can.”

“Friends would work, Nick.” The smile you shot him in return was sad, but your words were truthful. “It’s not too late for that.” He visibly reacted, relief in the look he gave you in return, and for a few seconds, neither of you said anything else.

You were closer than you had been to him in years, the man’s face only inches from yours, and you gave yourself permission to look at him, even though you didn’t know what it was that you were hoping to find. He’d aged - the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes deeper and more pronounced, even when his expression was neutral. He was tanned - more than you’d thought he would be, especially the skin of his face and neck, but his hair was still dark, even though there were strands of silver running through it. His beard, too. It was no less patchy than it had been when you’d lived together or when you’d seen him in the motel, but it was a little longer, though it still looked soft.

There was fatigue in his eyes. They were still warm and deep and looked at you like you were the only thing he wanted to see, but you could tell that he was tired. Before you could stop yourself, you lifted one hand, a fingertip finding the space between his brows where there were more deep lines and smoothed them the way you had so many times before. He didn’t speak, but you felt his body tense up when you touched him. Because he doesn’t know what to do either. “Is the scar on your nose from her?”

“No. It’s from Ryan. When he hit me.” Nick blinked and then turned his head to one side. “The one over here is from her.” It was the wound you’d bandaged in the motel, and your fingers moved there, the tips of them skating over the raised portion of skin. “When I got back to Amarillo and turned myself in, the cops took me to a hospital for evaluation. Needed medical professionals to see the cuts and scrapes and shit so that they could validate my story. I needed stitches. But because it had been a couple days at that point, it healed funny.”

Almost an inch and a half long, the scar disappeared beneath his hair, but you could still feel it, along with seeing a rash of lighter marks on his skin over his cheek and along his jaw. From where she dragged the rock. “Women love scars, Nick.” Biting your lower lip, you wrinkled your nose. “Isn’t that what they say? He didn’t even crack a smile, and you worried that you’d said the wrong thing. How do I fix this?

“She was the only one I slept with after you.” His eyes closed and Nick gritted his teeth. “She was so different from you that I thought it would help. And everything happened so fast once we started, I didn’t even have time to think it all through.” Oh, that… I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to know about their… “I should have stopped. I should have thought about it all back then. And now I’m gonna have to think about it for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, you should have.” Eyes going wide, you backed off, hand rising to cover your mouth. Oh, shit. “Nick, I -”

“No. It’s good that you’re angry. It’s even better that you’re being honest about it. I fucked up. I need to hear you say it.” He reached up, running the fingers of his free hand through his hair. “Can I tell you something else?” I don’t know what else he could have to tell me. I don’t know what else I want to hear. But you nodded, taking in a slow breath. “She knew about you. Not everything, but we talked about my past, and she -”

At that, you shot to your feet, head whipping back and forth. “No. No, Nick. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to know about how you told your new girlfriend about the fiancée you left back in Arizona. I don’t want to think about the two of you doing whatever together and my name casually coming up in -”

“That’s not what happened.” He stood, too, though he kept his distance. “I mean when we first met. When she asked how I ended up in Texas, I told her what happened. You were the first thing that I brought up, even though talking about you still hurt.” Good. I’m glad it hurt. He repeated your name, eyes locked on your face. “She said that -”

“I don’t want to know.” You spun away from him, eyes scanning over the bedside table. “If you want to be friends, I don’t think I can know, Nick.” You could feel it - panic rising up and filling your chest, the sudden urge to go threatening to dictate what you did next. But it won’t solve anything. “You left me. You had every right to do whatever you wanted to do with your personal life. It’s upsetting, and I won’t deny that, but I can’t be mad because you were with someone else.” Even though I wish it had been literally anybody else. “But to know that you talked about me? About us with her? And then all this shit happened? I can be upset about that.” Your fingers closed around the room key, pulling it away from the surface of the tabletop. “So whatever she said about me or about the situation is going to stay with you because to be completely honest, Nick? I don’t care what she thought. Not only did she cheat on her husband with you and pull you into a really bad situation, she used you and then attacked you. She was willing to let you go down for burning her fucking house down if you survived what she did to you, so I don’t give a fuck what she had to say about you and me.”

He was still - the man standing straight up, but he didn’t speak. You were angry - angrier than you’d been in a long time, and even though you really didn’t want to take it out on Nick, you couldn’t help the way you reacted.

You’d kept everything inside for the most part. Sure, you’d cried over drinks and food with your friends. You’d commiserated with your family about the sudden absence in your life and what it meant. You’d even taken out your frustration in physical ways a few times - the most useful being when Adrian, a good friend of Nick’s had taken you to a property owned by his brother and handed you a baseball bat, telling you to go to town on the pile of junk they’d already pulled out of the otherwise empty building.

It had helped - immensely, and by the end of the night, you’d been spent, months of frustration let out in a way that didn’t hurt anyone or anything - except broken sheets of drywall, old computer monitors, dishes and boxes. You’d spent a solid ten minutes crying in Adrian’s arms once you’d dropped the bat to the ground before he’d taken you back to his house, where his wife was waiting with a fresh bottle of liquor and plenty of snacks. It reminded you of the good people that you had in your life, and the ways they’d been there for you even when Nick hadn’t - something that being in his presence again had caused you to partially forget.

“I’m going to go to the store. I need to be by myself for a little while.” Picking up your bag, you slid the strap over one shoulder. “Me staying here right now isn’t going to do either of us any good, because all I’m going to do is keep trying to start an argument with you, and it’s not going to help, because -”

“Alright.” He nodded once. “If you want me gone when you get back, I can be. There were a couple other hotels on the street.” No.

“You don’t need to go. I just need some time. I need to calm down.” And I can’t do that here.

“It’s getting late. Please be careful.” He took a half step forward, sighing. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know.” Giving him a tight smile, you lowered your head. “I know you didn’t, but I can’t help the reaction I have to… all of this.” He cleared his throat but remained in place, eyes on you. I wish I knew what to say right now.

But you didn’t - and so you took the few steps necessary to reach the door and left the room - and Nick - behind.

—

He paced the empty space at the foot of both beds, waiting for you to come back. Nick was no stranger to small spaces, but even though it was nearly triple the size of his cell, the empty hotel room seemed suffocating.

You had every right to be mad at him, and Nick was actually pissed with himself that he’d brought up Elena again - especially in the context of talking about their sex life and letting you know that the woman had known of you. So fucking stupid of me. He used both hands to grip his hair, swearing loudly as he spun to move in the opposite direction - and toward the door.

Hearing that you still cared about him - that part of you still loved him - had stunned the man, and as happy as he’d been to hear it, Nick knew that he didn’t deserve for you to feel that way. His feelings were something that he’d come to terms with more than a year prior - the love he had for you wouldn’t ever fade completely, but he was prepared to carry it with him for the rest of his life without you knowing more than what he’d said in the original letter. That’s what I deserve. I did this to myself.

There’d been moments that day, though, where he’d dared to think that the two of you could actually do it - actually remain friends and maybe even close friends. The parking lot. While eating your burgers. You offering your phone. Letting him touch you. The hug that you had initiated. The way you’d curled up against his side on the couch and made jokes.

But he’d fucked it all up in only a few seconds. You’d had your hands on him and your eyes were staring into his and it had felt so goddamn good to be so close to you … and he’d mentioned Elena. “Fucking idiot.” Nick groaned again, finally sitting down at the foot of his bed, hanging his head between his knees.

He hadn’t been trying to rub it in your face that he’d been with someone else, because that was the last thing he ever wanted to do. He was just trying to come clean about something that he hadn’t ever had the heart to do in the letters or phone calls - tell you that he’d spent the majority of the first year apart alone, that the only other person that he’d ever even had any inclination to go to bed with had been a mistake from the very beginning, that what Elena had done to him - what he’d experienced as a result of trusting her was something that he’d very quickly regretted.

It was a half-assed attempt to make you feel better, because his poor judgment had caused him misery, but even though Nick knew that a small part of you would be satisfied that it happened that way, overall, it wouldn’t matter to you. Because she’s a better person than I am. Groaning, he covered his face with both hands and swore again, trying to steady his breaths. Do better. Do better until Thursday and then … you’ll have time apart to figure everything out.

Months and months of time thinking hadn’t prepared him for days spent alone with you, and Nick was overwhelmed at the suddenness of your presence, at the way things ebbed and flowed between you in the span of seconds. He wasn’t surprised. You’d always had that effect on each other, the connection between the two of you sparking like a downed wire and impossible to ignore - but that didn’t make it any less jarring after so long.

The night in the motel had been one thing; seeing you while half-dazed and entirely concussed, and then again the following morning while he explained everything to you had been enough to keep him distracted. But you being there for him, as soon as he emerged from the jail, the first face he’d come into contact with in the outside world, ready to listen to him and let him tell his side of the story? That was another thing. And after nearly three years of making a series of bad and worse decisions, apparently Nick still wasn’t done sabotaging himself.

You’d come back - he knew you would, because all of your stuff was still in the room, and he didn’t think that you’d abandon any of it. But what happens then? Do we pretend like it didn’t happen? Do we just sit here and watch movies or … or do we try again? The first option was the safe bet, but the second was his preference - and he vowed to tell you that as soon as you walked back in the door… whenever that turned out to be.

He stayed like that; sitting at the end of the bed with his face in his hands, the room completely silent aside from the sound of the air conditioner until the door opened some time later, the beat of your footsteps loud in his ears. He heard the sound of bags rustling as you set them down, and only then did he turn his head to look in your direction.

Your back was to him, and so he allowed himself to stare - eyes following your movement as you sorted through the things you’d bought and brought back. “I got you a pair of pajama pants.” Turning to face him, you held out one of the bags. “You look about the same size as before, so I just thought…”

“Thank you.” One hand reached out cautiously, the bag changing hands. “I didn’t plan on sharing a room with anyone before I went back to Arizona, so I figured I’d sleep naked, but since I’m staying with you, that plan changed. I was going to -”

“Well now you don’t have to.” You carried another bag toward the small refrigerator, opening it and putting more stuff inside - bottles of water, a few different kinds of soda, some candy bars - and then turned back to face him. “I don’t plan on leaving the room again tonight, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay here, too. Where would I go? “I know it’s still kind of early, but I’m going to change for bed and try to read more. I’ll have my headphones on, so -”

“Can I still call my mom?” You nodded, reaching into your bag and digging your phone out. “Thank you.” Handing it to him, he watched as you made sure your fingers didn’t touch on the transfer. Ouch. But he couldn’t blame you, fingers curling around the device as you headed back for the bathroom, pausing long enough to bend over and dig through your bag for pajamas.

You didn’t look back at him before shutting the door behind you, and once you were out of view, Nick let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding, closing his eyes. That went better than I thought it would. Standing, he kept facing the door and reached into the bag, pulling out the pants you’d brought him. They were in his size, and after he’d removed the tag he changed into them, removing his underwear and jeans and folding them before stacking them on top of the bag he’d left the jail with.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Nick’s breath caught in his throat, the man struggling to keep his composure at the sight of you. I don’t think she thought this through. Even though you were wearing a t-shirt and more of your upper body was covered than it had been earlier, your legs were bare, the shorts you had on exposing more skin than he’d expected. But why would she change the way she dresses just because i’m here? “They fit.” You smiled them, pointing at him. “Good.” You moved back toward the small refrigerator and removed one of the candy bars and a bottle of soda, setting them down on the table closer to your bed than his

“They’re comfortable. I really appreciate you bringing ‘em back.” He sat again, getting situated on the mattress and watched as you did the same, crossing your legs as you faced him. “I know you’re going to read, and I won’t bother you, but there’s something that I want to say before you start… and before I call my mom.”

“Go for it.” You were chewing on your lower lip, brows knit together. “I promise I won’t overreact.” He had to laugh at that, rubbing one palm over his flannel-covered leg before he answered.

“You won’t. What I’m gonna say isn’t…” He shrugged. “I know that this is really hard for you. I know that whatever you’re feeling and thinking about me and about this has to be really confusing for you, too. It’s pretty goddamn confusing for me, to be honest.” You nodded, the frown smoothing out, your expression going lax. “I don’t think either of us has any idea how the next couple days are gonna play out, but what I do know?” He leaned closer to you, taking a deep breath. “We’ve both said a lot more than we planned to, and even if it’s the truth, it’s still a lot to think about.”

“That’s putting it lightly.” You closed your eyes and lowered your head, shaking it back and forth. “Nick -”

“So I think we should just try to get through til Thursday. Then you’ll get on a plane and go home, and I can -”

“About that.” It was your turn to clasp your hands together, your eyes darting around the room before they locked with his. What? “I’m not… I didn’t buy a plane ticket back. I figured I’d drive. Thought a day or two in the desert would be what I needed to clear my head after spending time with you.” Though it sounded cruel, Nick knew that wasn’t the case with what you were saying. “I could take my time getting home and not be anxious on a damn plane.”

“That’s a long drive.” He blinked a few times, remembering the last time he’d made it. “But I guess I see the appeal. Lots of time to think and -”

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me.” Reaching up, you gripped the back of your neck. “But now I’m thinking that that might not be the best idea.”

—

It had seemed like the perfect solution when you’d bought the one way ticket to Amarillo and rented the car. Driving back - with Nick - would give you more time together, the two of you reconnecting while in Texas and then on the trip, leaving you in a good place when you dropped him off in Arizona. And leaving the door open for more conversation later. But after only a few hours with him, and multiple blowups during that time, you realized that you’d overestimated your capacity for forgiveness, and underestimated the depth of emotion that you’d feel at seeing him in person again when there wasn’t a courtroom between you.

You felt stupid. Not because of how you’d reacted, but because of how you’d handled yourself since picking him up earlier that afternoon. But he was taking it in stride, letting you say what you needed to say and not getting upset or snapping back in the way that you had when he’d said something that you didn’t like. He must have learned to control his emotions over the last couple years… and I definitely haven’t. In an attempt to make his reintegration go smoothly, you’d only succeeded in making it more difficult and emotional for him, and you were second guessing everything.

He hadn’t outright agreed to drive back with you, and even though part of you wanted him to - wanted the additional hours with him right off the bat - you weren’t sure that it was going to happen. You couldn’t blame him, either. But there’s still time. We still have 36 hours before we need to decide anything. A lot could happen in two nights; you knew it as well as he did. No one knows that better than him, actually.

Nothing would be happening that night, though, and so rather than trying to extend the conversation, you’d put your headphones in, returning to your book after stretching out on the bed. Nick’s conversation with his mother was a long one, and even though you tried not to listen to it, giving him the privacy you knew he’d lacked for the previous 18 months, you heard parts of it.

He was happy to be out. It felt strange to sit in silence. Having access to whatever food he wanted was exciting. It was great to take a long shower, and even better to be able to stretch out onto the large bed. Hearing him talk about how he was just enjoying the simple things warmed your heart, and even though you pretended to read the book, turning the pages every minute and a half or so, you were focused on the man a few feet away from you.

His suggestion that the two of you just get through the next few days was a good one - a fair one. So even though you had a long way to go - and a ton of things you wanted to say, you agreed with him, deciding that there was plenty of time in the future to rehash the reasons for the tension between the two of you. Forgiving him entirely wasn’t on the table - but calling a truce during the time you’d basically forced proximity with him was another.

When he set the phone down, you turned your heard toward him, nodding once as he mouthed the words ‘thank you’ and then climbed out of the bed and headed into the bathroom. As soon as he was out of the room you covered your face with the book, squeezing your eyes shut. Easier said than done, though. He came out a few minutes later and paused next to your bed, waiting until you’d removed one earbud to speak. “I’m gonna have a beer and watch some TV. Do you want one since I’m up?” Do I?

“Sure.” Nodding, you set the book down. “Go ahead and grab me one, Nick.” He did - even opening it for you before handing over the chilled bottle. “At least if you get drunk off of one drink, you won’t have far to go to get to bed safe.” He laughed, the bottle halfway to his lips. “Wait!” Scrambling to your knees, you held your bottle out to him. “We’ve gotta make a toast before you start.”

“What’re we toasting to?” He was smiling, the spark back in his eyes. “There are a lot of -”

“To getting you the hell out of Texas.” You bit your lip. “To you doing the right thing.” To you being back in my life in some way. “To a fresh start.” He inhaled, shifting his weight.

“I like the sound of that.” Leaning forward, he clinked the neck of his bottle with yours. “A whole lot.” Both of you drank, but neither of you looked away while you did it, and for a few seconds, things felt normal between you - almost like the previous years hadn’t happened. But too soon, he broke eye contact and moved back to the other bed, getting back in and reaching for the remote. “If it’s too loud, tell me, alright?”

“It won’t be.” Tapping on the ear that still had the headphone in it, you reached for the one you’d taken out. “Turn it up as loud as you need to.” Within a few minutes, you were back to your book and Nick had settled on something to watch, the man leaning back against the headboard, both pillows propped up behind him. You looked over at him occasionally, eyeing him without turning your head, and were happy to see how relaxed he looked, one arm bent and behind his head, the other holding the beer bottle on his lap. Good. At least part of this night will be stress free.

Without realizing it, you nodded off, and were woken up by the feeling of the book being slipped from between your fingers. What the… Eyes flying open, they landed on Nick, standing next to your bed with the book in his hands. “You fell asleep.” He explained what he was doing after you removed an earbud, sitting up straight. “And I’m getting ready to go to bed, too, but didn’t want you to roll over on top of this in the middle of the night.” Yeah, that would have been uncomfortable. “Figured I could pull it out of your hands without waking you up like I used to, but I guess I was wrong.”

Opening your mouth to reply, you yawned instead, curling your fingers into a fist to cover it. “Thanks, Nick.” Taking out the other headphone, you set the pair of them on the bedside table, stretching. “Do… you want to keep a light on tonight? Or the TV?” His eyes widened, fingers tightening on the book he held.

“The TV, maybe. Just for a little bit of light, but we can turn it down.” He took a breath, nervousness crossing his features briefly. “If that’s alright… I just don’t know how I’ll be in complete darkness or silence, so -”

“Got it.” Climbing out of the bed, you reached out, squeezing his arm before you could stop yourself. “Whatever you need, Nick.” Heading for the bathroom to brush your teeth, you left the man standing between the beds - and somehow, you knew that he was watching you.

—

“Do you want to spend the night?” The two of you were sitting on your couch, Nick’s arm around your shoulders as the credits of a movie played. “I didn’t realize how late it was, and now I feel bad making you drive all the way back home.” He’d never stayed over before, but it had been long enough that the ask wasn’t out of the blue… and you were ready to take that step with him. But what if he doesn’t want to? “I have the second bedroom, so there’s -”

“I don’t need a second bedroom.” He pulled his arm back, turning so that he could look at you before reaching out and sliding his fingers between yours. “Especially when I know how comfortable your bed is.” Leaning in, Nick ran his nose along yours before pressing his lips to your cheek. “But if you want me to sleep in th-”

“No.” Shifting on the cushion, you raised one hand, trailing your fingers over his stubbled jaw. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not just asking you to stay because I expect sex, Nick,” He laughed quietly at that, leaning in even closer and kissing you, his hold on your hand tightening and the other arm sliding between your body and the back of the couch.

“I wouldn’t turn you down if you were,” he mumbled without pulling back, lips slowly moving against yours. “In fact, I wish you were expecting it, because -”

“Shut up.” Puckering your lips one final time, you pushed yourself to your feet, tugging on his hand. “And take me to bed.”

—

Your favorite way to wake up was in Nick’s arms, his broad chest pressed against your back and one leg draped over yours. You usually woke before he did, trying not to move too much and instead laying quietly beside him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest bringing you to full consciousness. “I think I’m here more than I’m at my place.” His voice quiet, the man shifted behind you. “Not that I’m complaining, but…”

“I’m definitely not.” Stretching your legs, you rolled toward him - his arm winding back around you and pulling you closer, Nick’s lips warm against your forehead. “It’s still early. And it’s Saturday, so…”

“So let’s go back to sleep.” You could hear in his voice that he was already halfway there, the man’s words dragging out, his eyes still heavy-lidded. “Couple more hours. I’ve got nowhere to be.” No, I don’t either.

—

The bed was cold. It didn’t matter how many blankets you used, or where on the mattress you laid, there was no warmth there, and you didn’t know that there ever would be again. For the first week, you’d slept curled around his pillow, nose buried in the slowly fading scent of him. It helped - somewhat - although the more you thought about it, the more you realized that it was likely the fatigue of crying yourself to sleep that actually got you a few hours rest each night.

As the days passed, you became more and more certain that Nick wasn’t coming back - that all of the things he’d left were going to be yours to deal with, that he’d made his decision and was sticking to it. And along with that, the passing of time made the entire house seem larger and emptier, too, the bedroom and your bed only one of many reminders that after so long together, you were all alone.

As the time passed, his scent faded - meaning that for the hours you spent laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, there was one less reminder that he’d ever been there in the first place.

A month after he left, you put the pillows into one of the hall closet, replacing them with a new set - along with a new comforter - but even that didn’t help. Two weeks later, you got frustrated in the middle of the night, pulling the new pillow from your bed and carrying it into the guest room. You didn’t fall asleep immediately, but it happened faster than you were used to, and when you woke up the following morning, it felt like you’d actually slept for the first time in six weeks.

Sleeping in the guest room worked for almost three weeks - until it was time to change the sheets out and you opened the linen closet. The scent from his pillow hit your nose then, stronger because it was in a confined space, and you dropped to the ground, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your forehead against them. You knew that eventually, you’d need to get over it - but after only a few months, your emotions were still raw.

That night, you’d slept atop the bare mattress of your guest bed, the washing machine and dryer working overnight to clean and dry every single one of your sets of sheets and pillowcases.

But once again, your arms wound around his pillow, face buried in it for one final time… and when you’d woken the next morning, it was damp… and so were your cheeks.

—

There were hands on your shoulders, though the grip was loose. Quietly, you heard someone saying your name, and when the voice registered, you opened your eyes with a gasp, searching the partial darkness. I’m not alone. I’m not alone, because he’s… “I think you were having a nightmare.” Yeah, I was. I… “You made a … noise and it woke me up, and then you …” He exhaled, breathing out your name. “Are you -”

“Nick.” Pushing up into a sitting position, you threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest. He smelled different, but it was still Nick, and for a few seconds, you let yourself stay that way, feeling as his hands moved from your shoulders and to your biceps, both thumbs moving in slow arcs over the bare skin there. You held each other in the darkness, your heart racing, and even though you tried not to, your mind drifted back to the dream you’d been having - loneliness and Nick’s absence, the way his scent had triggered you throughout the time he’d been gone.

As those thoughts raced through your mind, you felt yourself getting worked up and pulled away enough so that you could look into Nick’s eyes, hands moving to the base of his neck. “It was a nightmare.” You whispered the words, feeling the tears well up in your eyes again. “About you. And you were gone, and -”

Cutting yourself off, you leaned forward, catching him by surprise and kissing him, the man’s lips dry - but still soft - against yours.

Before you could even begin to process what you were doing, you felt his grip on you tighten further - and then the man pushed you away, your name nothing more than a low growl from his mouth.

—

“Stop it.” His heart hammered in his chest, the man’s hold on you tighter than it needed to be. “What are you doing?” He’d thought that walking out and staying away had been the most difficult thing he’d ever do, but that night in the hotel room proved his earlier assumption to be incorrect.

The moment your lips touched his, he felt relief - like everything that he’d wanted was finally within his grasp again, but your words gave him pause. Nightmare. About you. You were gone. You weren’t kissing him because you wanted to, you were kissing him because it was a reaction to the things you’d seen and felt in the dream - and he needed to stop you. Because if I let this happen, she’ll regret it. I’ll regret it, too.

He saw the look in your eyes change, the anguish turning into panic, your mouth falling open. “Nick, I -” He let go of you then, holding his hands up - palms out and facing you - and then retreated the short distance back to the edge of his bed, sitting. “You…”

“I’ve dreamed about getting to kiss you again for almost as long as we’ve been apart.” Dragging his hand through his hair, Nick said your name. “But if … after all this fucking time, anything happens because one of us gets…”

“I’m sorry.” Your voice small, you tilted your head down, staring at your lap. “Nick, I shouldn’t have -”

“The sound you made?” He cleared his throat. “The one that woke me up?” Nodding twice, you raised your gaze to meet his. “It was my name. You said my name, but it wasn’t just saying it, you were almost crying, and…” He swore then, tugging on the ends of his hair before he leaned closer. Why the fuck is this happening? “Wouldn’t have been right to let you keep going or to kiss you back.” It doesn’t matter how much I wanted it. “We should try to go back to sleep.” He bit down on his lower lip, watching as you relaxed slightly, the rigidity leaving your shoulders. “It’s pretty late.”

You nodded in reply, getting out of the bed and moving into the bathroom, the light flipping on before the door closed. Once you were out of sight, Nick shot out of the bed, reaching for one of the pillows and flinging it at the wall. Fuck. Stopping the kiss had been the right thing to do. It had been the honorable thing to do, but the growing unease in the pit of his stomach was making him think that he might have burned his last chance with you the moment he’d told pushed you away. If I ever had one to begin with.

By the time you came out of the bathroom, Nick was already laying back down, the fingers of both hands linked together and resting on his chest, eyes on the ceiling. You didn’t speak, but he turned his head slightly to the side as he watched you get comfortable, the rustle of the blankets loud in his ears. You didn’t even look at him, and after almost a minute, he straightened his head again, eyes back on the ceiling.

There was tension in the air, and as the light from the TV screen flickered, Nick wondered what would happen the following morning - wondered how the two of you would move forward. Maybe staying together in this hotel wasn’t the best idea. Maybe I should have gotten my own room.

He’d started to drift off again when he heard you say his name. That time, though, there was no anguish in it - your voice was steady, despite being quiet. “Yeah?” He rolled onto his side, sliding one hand under his pillow and saw that you were already on your side, facing him. “You alright?” She’s going to tell me I have to leave. That the kiss was a huge mistake, that -

“Is it weird for you?” You paused. “For .. us to be in the same room with each other, but in different beds?”

“Yes.” There was no reason to lie to you. “And telling you to stop kissing me was even weirder.” Nick frowned, shifting his hips. “But it was the right thing to do.” It really was, as much as it sucked.

“Do… would…” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Will you sleep in the bed with me tonight, Nick?” What? “I won’t try to kiss you again, I swear. But I think it would help.” He wanted to say yes - wanted to leap from his bed to yours, but part of him thought that it was a trap, and that the moment he moved, you’d rescind the offer, leaving him standing between the beds like an asshole. But she isn’t like that. She didn’t come all the way here to do that to me. “We shared the bed in -” Fuck it.

He stood, grabbing for one pillow and pulling the comforter from the bed he was in before he rounded your bed and set both down - standing next to it and looking down at you. “If you change your mind, wake me up. I’ll -”

“I wont.” You inhaled, rolling onto your back. “I want this, Nick.” He laid down, then, keeping space - and part of the blanket - between you, but when he felt you move, turning toward him and scooting closer, Nick faced you again, his left hand resting on the mattress in front of him. “I think tomorrow might be the first time I don’t wake up before you, Nick.” He felt the tips of your fingers as they touched his and then slid over the back of his hand, the weight comforting. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“You will.” He wet his lips. “Thank you. For all of this. But especially for -”

“Just go to sleep.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t overthink this.” That’s impossible. You didn’t say anything else, repositioning yourself so that your back was to him. But to Nick’s surprise, you moved backwards, closing the distance between the two of you and causing his hand to brush against the small of your back. Shit. Hastily, he pulled it back, prepared to shove it beneath his blanket when your voice stopped him. “It’s alright, Nick.” A pause, along with another slight rustle of the blankets. “You can put your arm around me.”

You didn’t need to tell him twice, Nick’s arm lifting and wrapping around your waist, his hold on you tightening enough to urge you even closer. You let it happen, and he was surprised to feel that you weren’t rigid or resistant, instead letting yourself relax. This is … more than I could have ever hoped for. “Goodnight.” He closed his eyes, palm pressed against your stomach.

Breathing the same out in return, you hummed as you got comfortable, your hand covering his. You fell asleep before he did - another example of things never changing - and in the dim light, Nick stared at the back of your head, willing himself not to close his eyes. Because who knows whether or not this will happen again?

But he was only able to stay awake for so long, the weight of the day - and everything that had transpired during it - finally catching up to him.

As sleep took Nick, too, he unconsciously moved even closer to you, the man’s body conforming to the shape yours was in as though no time had passed since the last time you’d lain together.

—

taglist coming separately!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #fire meet gasoline #female reader #nick caldwel #nick caldwel x female reader #it's dangerous to fall in love #it's dangerous to fall in love masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #nick caldwel masterlist #please read the warnings

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

Text

It’s Dangerous To Fall In Love IV: Burn With Me Tonight

Pairing: Nick Caldwel (Fire Meet Gasoline) x Female Reader, Nick Caldwel x Elena Ruez (Heidi Klum’s character - mentioned)

Word Count: 10,761

Rating: M

Chapter warnings: More angst. Total honesty. Feelings.

Summary: Spending the entire day together is more than either you or Nick bargained for, but the result is a welcome surprise. It hurts, sure ... but will it also help you in the end when you’re both choosing honesty?

Author’s note:

I’ve been sitting on this one for a little while, but I wanted to wait to make sure I was happy with it... and here it is, an hour earlier than promised!

Thank you to everyone that’s read and supported and commented and messaged me about this story. I know that this isn’t a very well known character but I’m having fun with him anyway.

Comments and feedback and questions are always appreciated. Hope you’re all having a wonderful weekend.

It’s Dangerous to Fall in Love Masterlist

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was Nick’s face, only inches from yours. Must have rolled over in my sleep. It didn’t startle you the way you thought it would, instead the sight of him sleeping in the bed next to you filled you with a sense of calm. There was no stress in his expression - no tightness in the way his body was positioned. His lips were parted slightly, a gentle puff of air escaping with each exhale. God, I’ve missed this.

You knew that you couldn’t get used to it - or to him. It was likely that whatever was happening between the two of you in Amarillo would be actual closure for both of you - something that you’d desperately wanted, even if it hurt. No matter how much it hurts. And you’d take it - because you wanted to be able to look at the man without feeling any contempt or anger, wanted to move past the resentment you’d carried with you and tried to ignore for so long.

It had been a gamble to ask him to sleep in the bed with you, but you knew that he wouldn’t have suggested it himself. Especially after I kissed him like that. You hadn’t meant to - and he was correct about the cause of the kiss… but only part of it. It had been because you were overwhelmed by the nightmare you’d had and the fact that you’d woken up to the man directly in front of you. But it had also been because you wanted to kiss Nick - and couldn’t stop yourself. But I did it without thinking about what it would mean to him… or if he wanted it. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying not to move too much. He needs sleep. He needs to relax.

“Good morning.” His hand - which was still resting on your hip - flexed, and then he pulled it away cautiously. “You been up long?” Meeting his eyes, you could see that he wasn’t on edge, though there was a little apprehension in the depths of them, likely because he was waiting to see if you’d tear yourself away from him and climb out of the bed. Neither of those things are happening.

“I haven’t. Just a few minutes.” You took another breath, still watching him. “How’d you sleep?”

“After I came over here? Like a goddamn rock.” He smiled, the dimple you loved so much appearing as he rolled away from you and onto his back. “I didn’t wake up once.” Good. Pushing yourself up and into a sitting position with one hand, you reached for your phone, checking the time.

“We still have a little more than a half hour before they stop serving breakfast.” And I’m hungry. “I think I’m going to go throw some real clothes on and then go down there … are you going to come?” He looked like he wanted to say something in return but thought the better of it, nodding as he climbed out of bed, both hands clasped together at his waist.

“Gimmie a few minutes, yeah?” Glancing over his shoulder at you, he narrowed his eyes. “Or if you want to get changed out here and then go, I can meet you downstairs.” A few minutes? Wha… oh. That’s something else I didn’t even think of. Shit. Nick’s first night around a woman in over a year and a half, and it was with you, someone that he knew intimately. Of course he can’t help what happens to his body.

“I’ll wait, Nick.” Nodding, you caught the relief in his eyes. “It won’t take me long to get dressed.”

It took almost no time at all. You moved as soon as the door closed behind him, digging through your suitcase for something to wear. Settling on shorts and a t shirt, you headed for the mirror in the entry hallway, checking to make sure that you looked presentable. Definitely don’t look like I just spent the night sleeping next to my ex on the day he was released from jail. Sighing, you rubbed at your eyes, scoffing before you went back to put your shoes on and grab your phone and the room key, slipping both into your back pocket.

As you waited for Nick, you turned the TV off, pushing the curtain to the side and peeking out into the Texas morning. Looks like a nice day. After breakfast, you had no plans. The truth was that after you’d picked the man up the previous day, you hadn’t known what to expect… or if you could expect anything. We’ll figure it out. I guess I’ll… “Bathroom’s yours.” He was back in the room with you, pants hanging low on his hips, a sliver of skin visible between the waistband of them and the bottom hem of his shirt. His hair’s wet. I wonder if he dunked his head. “I just need to change.”

“Yeah. Alright.” Tearing your eyes away from him you walked toward the bathroom. “Just a sec.” Dropping onto the closed toilet lid, you covered your face with both hands. You’d known that you were still attracted to Nick; that hadn’t changed. Even when you were trying to convince yourself that you hated him, you’d been unable to ignore the physical appeal of the man. And I won’t ever be able to. I love… loved him. I was going to marry him. I wanted to be with him forever. And as much as you’d been able to keep the bulk of those emotions at bay while he was gone, seeing him in person had brought everything rushing back.

How could it not? Splashing cold water on your face, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. I should have known with how jumpy I’ve been, how much I’ve reacted to … everything. You dried your skin off and paused after spinning to face the door. Part of me does still love him… but how big is that part? “Nick? You decent?”

“I am.” His reply gave you the go ahead to open the door, and when you rejoined him in the room, you were surprised to see him dressed in the jeans and a different t-shirt, an unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt over it. His wet hair was still messy, the wayward curls at the nape of his neck begging for you to reach out and touch them, but you held back, instead focusing on his face - which was almost as big a mistake. God, look at him. He was still smiling, though it wasn’t as genuine as it had been when you were both in the bed, and along with his mustache, there was a full day’s worth of growth on the rest of his face.

“Still can’t grow a beard, hmm?” Cocking your head to the side, you wrinkled your nose. “And you say that some things never change when it comes to me.” He laughed then, using one large hand to rub at his chin.

“Still patchy as fuck, as you can see.” He winked, causing you to laugh - and in that moment, you felt something that you hadn’t felt since the day he’d walked out on you: contentment. You saw it in his eyes, too - surprise growing as he stared at you - but instead of dwelling on it, Nick simply gestured to the door. “C’mon, you said there was breakfast, and I’m pretty sure that whatever’s waiting downstairs is going to be much better than what I’ve had for the last year and a half.”

“They have French toast and pancakes, Nick.” Moving next to him, you nudged him with one elbow. “And the coffee yesterday morning was amazing.” Part of you hoped that he’d throw an arm loosely around your shoulders, but he didn’t - instead stepping forward and opening the door for you. He didn’t speak as you stepped through it - but you did feel him place his hand briefly against your lower back as he followed you into the hallway.

—

It had been a long day, but Nick was still energized, even though he was overwhelmed, too.

Breakfast was delicious, just like you’d promised and he’d hoped. The two of you had loaded up your plates and then taken them to a table, Nick going back for a second helping just before they’d started clearing the line - simply because he could. Conversation flowed between you while you ate, barely any silence for nearly an hour.

From there, you went back up to the room and grabbed your bag and keys, explaining to Nick that you didn’t want to sit in the room and that you were going to go to the mall and wander around. He’d second guessed going with you, since he didn’t know if he was ready to deal with a larger crowd of people. But at the last minute, he agreed, following you out of the room and into the rental car. He figured that the mall during the day on a weekday was better than a weekend, and after the two of you had walked around window shopping for an hour or two, he was glad that he’d decided to tag along.

Being around people again was nice. Hearing all of their conversations and watching them interact was refreshing. Getting to duck away from you whenever he needed to to use the bathroom or go into a store on his own felt like winning the lottery. Freedom would take some time to get completely used to, but as the day passed, Nick began to think that he was going to be ok after a much shorter transition period than he’d anticipated.

But the real surprise had come when the two of you walked by the movie theater inside the mall and you’d reached out, fingers closing around his wrist to stop him while you looked at the displayed posters. He hadn’t been to a theater to see a movie in more than two years, and even though he knew very little about what was playing, he wanted nothing more than to sink into a comfortable chair in the dark for two hours, focusing on whatever was on the screen.

When he’d suggested that the two of you see something - picking whatever had the soonest start time as long as it wasn’t a children’s movie - you hadn’t hesitated before agreeing. Only fifteen minutes later, you were seated near the back of the theater, each of you with your own drink though you were sharing a tub of popcorn.

There were only about ten other people in the theater, but Nick didn’t care. He was entirely focused on the brightly glowing screen in front of him and the sounds pumping through the speakers. Not only did it give him a chance to do something that he hadn’t done in a long time, but it made it possible for him to get lost in thought, too.

As the lights dimmed all the way and the movie began to play, Nick’s attention was split between what he was watching and what he was remembering from that morning - specifically, the way his heart had slammed against the inside of his ribcage the moment he’d opened his eyes and caught you staring at him.

Part of him had assumed that you were looking for an out, but when you hadn’t moved away, he let himself relax - briefly. He’d slept well next to you, but the proximity had also given him a problem that needed to be dealt with before anything else could happen - and before you noticed. Escaping to the bathroom without your attention being drawn to the tenting of his pajama pants had been easier than he’d anticipated, but once Nick was alone in the smaller room, the explanation for your lack of awareness dawned on him.

You hadn’t connected the dots right away because despite the kiss you’d tried to initiate only hours earlier, your mind wasn’t focused on Nick in a sexual way, especially so soon after waking up. And for some reason, realizing that had hurt more than he’d thought it would. It hadn’t been the case for the two of you when you were together; in fact, morning sex been a favorite of yours, and there’d been countless days when you’d woken him up by pressing your body against his, waiting until he was conscious to go any further but never stopping him from doing so.

He missed those mornings. He missed those mornings and the afternoons and the nights when the two of you did nothing more than lay on the couch together, or the nights when you went to bed at different times because of work commitments, but still gravitated toward each other in sleep. He missed waking up with his hands on you, or his nose buried in your hair.

That morning had been a tease, he admitted as he snagged a handful of popcorn, eyes on the screen. It was a tease because even though he couldn’t have wished for a more appealing wakeup, he knew that he couldn’t dwell on it. Because it’s only going to happen at most one more time before we go back to Mesa.

He didn’t regret stopping the kiss, even though he hadn’t wanted to. He didn’t regret telling you exactly why he’d stopped it, either. And he certainly didn’t regret being so eager to sleep next to you, despite the fact that it only made things that much harder. You hadn’t seemed to regret it either, the smile you gave him that morning warming him from head to toe. And if the conversation before and at breakfast was any indication, you really were alright with the way things were progressing between the two of you, even though it was unexpected.

Nick focused on the screen as the action in the movie picked up, his heart rate increasing, too. For the next twenty minutes, his thoughts were only on the story and what was unfolding in front of him. That was until he heard you gasp, his attention slipping from the screen and to you, head turning enough so that he could see the look on your face.

You’d lifted one hand to cover your mouth and were leaning forward, clearly engrossed in what you were watching. Just like that, he was spiraling again - mind reaching back to the time when you’d been together, when you’d gone on movie and dinner dates, when you’d gone on vacations and rented hotel rooms, when you’d spent countless hours in the car together. This is like that all over, he realized, tongue swiping slowly over his lips and coming away coated in butter and salt. Except we aren’t really together and it’s all my goddamn fault.

Forcing his attention back on the movie, Nick crossed his arms over his chest, slouching down in the seat. Fucking idiot.

When the movie ended and the two of you stepped back into the brightly lit mall, Nick’s thoughts were still jumbled, but he wasn’t in a bad mood. “That was a good afternoon.” He tossed the remaining popcorn into the trash can, falling into step next to you. “I’m glad we walked by the theater.”

“Did you get to watch movies while you were … inside?” Chewing on your lower lip, you glanced over at him. “That’s a stupid question, right?”

“It’s not. And we did. Nothing violent or scary or anything like that, but we did get to watch TV in the common room on weekends sometimes.” He hadn’t gone every weekend, but at least once a month, Nick sat and focused on the TV screen for a few hours, trying to get his mind off of things. “But it wasn’t ever dark, and we never had popcorn.” And the company was shit. He grinned. “Where are we going now?”

“Back to the hotel, I guess.” The mall was getting busier, the mid-day crowd replaced with teenagers, and as a larger group of them raced past the two of you, you moved closer, bumping into him. “Sorry.” Glancing over your shoulder, you rolled your eyes. “Or anywhere that isn’t here.” He agreed, the two of you making it back to the car a few minutes later. “Need to stop anywhere on the way?” Giving himself a few seconds to think, Nick told you no, deciding that when you got back to the room he’d have another beer. Maybe two.

It was barely 6 pm, which meant traffic was a little heavier on the short ride back east on 40, but it still didn’t take you long to reach your destination.

Once again, Nick was struck with how normal the day felt, and for a few seconds he let himself entertain the idea that when you made it back into the room, you’d collapse onto one of the beds together, arms around each other as you wound down for the night. But it’s not gonna happen like that.

Removing his shoes once the door closed behind you, Nick reached into the fridge and pulled out two of the remaining beers, opening both and handing you one. “We need to talk about something before tomorrow.” He watched as you winced but nodded, sinking down onto the couch and propping your feet up on the table. “You invited me to drive back with you. Is that still an option?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation on your part, your head turning to the side as he sat down next to you. “It’ll be nice to have someone with me, Nick. And it gives you an extra day to get used to being out before you have to deal with people from home.” You sipped your drink. “Is that alright?” More than alright.

“It is.” He sighed. “It’s a surprise that you’d want that, but if it means we get more time to -” Shit. Cutting himself off, he walked over to the window and pushed the curtain to the side, peering out. “I like this, you know?” Turning to face you, Nick crossed his arms, still holding the bottle tightly. It’s now or never. “Today was … good. I like it when we aren’t fighting.” You opened your mouth to reply, but Nick stopped you, taking a long breath. “And I know it’s my fault that we have a reason to fight in the first place, but that doesn’t mean that I…” He trailed off, dropping down to sit at the edge of the bed. “There were parts of today that felt like it used to between us. Maybe it’s stupid of me to even say it, because I don’t know how you feel, but I never thought I’d get to feel this again with you.”

“Nick.” Removing your feet from the table you planted them on the floor and then leaned forward, setting the bottle down. “You… we…”

“Even if this -” He gestured around at the room you were in. “If this is the only time I get to feel this way again, it was worth it.” And I mean that. “This is more than I could have hoped for, Calabaza. The letters and phone calls were one thing. But you here? In person?” Nick took a long drink, closing his eyes as he swallowed. “If this is closure, then… it’s more than I deserve.”

“It is.” You were whispering, eyes on his. “It’s way more than you deserve, Nick.” I know. I know it is. “But I’m here.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you let your chin drop. “And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

The room was silent - neither of you moving or speaking, and for long moments, he did nothing but stare at you, letting your words sink in. Did she really say that? Does she mean it? You didn’t raise your head, but he could see that your breathing was even, though your posture was rigid. He didn’t know if it was because you were angry at yourself for being so honest or because you were pissed that you still felt something so strongly, but in that moment, to him, it didn’t matter.

Standing and taking the few steps over to where you were sitting, Nick lowered himself to his knees next to the table your feet had been on, setting the beer down. “Look at me.” You did - after a few seconds. “Even if we never see each other again after we get back to Mesa, this was worth it - having these few days with you?” Nick reached out, cautiously settling a hand on one of your knees. “I’d keep apologizing, but I know you don’t want to hear it. So I’m just going to thank you instead.” He felt the tears gathering in his eyes, the sting of them reminding him of all of the ones he’d shed after leaving you. “For coming to get me. For letting me stay with you. For treating me like I’m not the biggest piece of shit you know.” He squeezed your knee and then withdrew his hand, resting both of them on his thighs. “You could have abandoned me the same way I did to you, and you didn’t. Not then and not now, and I won’t ever be able to -”

The tears were falling, tracking down his cheeks - and Nick made no move to wipe them away. “I should have.” You really should have. “I shouldn’t have gone to Globe. I shouldn’t have testified for you. I should have ignored your letters and calls. I shouldn’t be here.” He was crying harder, his shoulders shaking, but he couldn’t look away. She’s absolutely right. “I shouldn’t want to comfort you right now.” You said his name and a shudder coursed through his body, his fingers curling. “But I can’t help it. I’m not going to turn my back on someone I love.”

Leaning closer, you reached out with one hand and cupped his jaw, thumb sweeping slowly over his cheek. Nick was speechless, unable to do anything but lean into your touch. He’d attended counseling sessions while locked up - both on an individual level and in small groups - and they’d helped him to focus on the feelings of grief and some of his abandonment issues, but nothing could have prepared him for the boost that your touch provided. Because nothing will ever feel like this again.

Elena had been a comfort to him - physically, even if not emotionally, but she had been a poor substitution for you. And I should have recognized that. I should have done something about it. You were speaking quietly to him, and Nick squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to focus on your words. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Nick. I don’t know how to do that to you. I couldn’t even get rid of your stuff for good.” He moved, turning his head to rest his cheek against your bare knees, one of his hands loosely wrapped around your lower calf. “Maybe we both need this, hmm?” Glancing up, he saw that you were crying, too, eyes focused on him. “Just to cry it out? Let each other see how much we’ve been hurting?”

“Maybe.” It was a broken sound - the single word - and at it, you curled your fingers against his skin, the other hand moving so that you were stroking the back of his head. It was a familiar motion, your touch calming as it had always been, and instead of trying to speak again, Nick just closed his eyes and tried to breathe normally.

—

The day at the mall and the movie had reinforced a few things for you when it came to your feelings about Nick, but the conversation in the hotel room had solidified them.

You still loved him, and enjoyed being near him, even if it made you immensely sad. The two of you were still in sync - understanding what the other was thinking or what they wanted even without speaking it out loud. It was difficult to be so close to him and not act how you’d acted when you were together - but it was doable.

Sneaking glances at him as the movie played, you watched the emotions on his face as they appeared, understanding that even though a daytime movie during the week wasn’t anything special for you, for Nick it was just another symbol of his newfound freedom. The entire day, in fact, had been that way for him, and you hoped that it wasn’t too overwhelming. But once the two of you were back in the room, you began to understand that it wasn’t the events of the day that would have overwhelmed him - it was your presence.

And his was doing the same thing to you.

I should have known it would be like this. You stared down at him as you carded your fingers through his hair, the silver-streaked chestnut soft to the touch. It’s always like this. It’s always been like this. It had been easier to keep your emotions at bay - even the strongest ones - when you weren’t right in front of each other, but hearing his voice and seeing his face and being able to touch him made it next to impossible.

He was being respectful of you - the stopped kiss was proof of that, because you’d known that he wanted it as much as you did - but you didn’t think that he’d be able to hold out indefinitely, especially when the two of you weren’t holding everything back when it came to emotional admissions.

He still loved you, but didn’t think he deserved the right to say it. You still loved him, but didn’t know how you felt about admitting how much. And it wasn’t just an emotional response that you were having to him, either. Your body physically ached at his presence - at the way his fingers felt on your legs, the gentle heat of his breath on your chilled skin, the rasp of his beard against your palm. The brief kiss hadn’t helped, either, and even though you were trying to push it out of your mind, you couldn’t.

You’d dated a few times while he was gone - even gone out with two different men while Nick was in jail. But being with them felt mostly perfunctory; you put in little effort, even though you knew that you should have tried harder. You’d kissed two of them, stopping short of taking things further, because it felt wrong. The one man that you had slept with a handful of times had lasted a few months - from just before Nick had called from Arizona until after you’d gone to Texas to speak on his behalf… but that relationship had also seemed pointless. You’d been honest with the guy, explaining that it wasn’t fair for you to be so involved with your ex at the same time you were trying to establish a connection with him. Tony had been understanding, but he’d also brought up a good point: you’d done what was necessary and told the truth about Nick to help his case, and you owed him nothing else.

There was no reason for you to remain involved, no need for you to keep in contact. There was no expectation that you do anything more to help your ex, and it was as simple as you choosing to remove yourself from the situation. And I couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to do that. Taking a deep breath as you dragged your nails slowly over the back of Nick’s head, you wondered if you needed to tell him anything about the time you’d spent apart - or the men that had been in your life. I know about Elena, but… “Tell me when you want me to move.”

He slid his hand around to the back of your leg, tightening his grip. “Whenever you get uncomfortable. I know this can’t be good for your knees.” Forcing out a quiet laugh, you paused. “You can come up here and sit next to me if you want.” He lifted his head and met your eyes with his - the expression full of uncertainty. “I think we’re doing alright, Nick. Expecting this to be anything less than … difficult was dumb on my part, but I think we’ve both handled this pretty well.”

“My mom asked last night how it was going.” He sat up, your hands falling into your lap, though he didn’t remove his from your leg. “She asked how we were handling being together again after so long apart, and -”

“What did you tell her?” You could feel your lips twitching, a smile threatening to overtake them. “Hopefully not that I ran out of the room on you.”

“I told her it was hard. I told her that you being here was a total surprise but that we were trying our best.” Nodding, you waited for him to continue. “I told her that even though I have so much I want to say to you, it’s hard because … because I don’t know what I can say.” You can say anything you want, but I have no idea how I’ll react to it. “And you know what she said?” He squeezed your leg again and then stood, circling around the table and ottoman and then sitting next to you. “She said that the only reason it’s so hard is because we still care about each other.”

“She isn’t wrong.” Drawing your knees up and wrapping your arms around your legs, you lowered your head to rest it against the tops of them. At all. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He put his hand on your back, then, fingers splayed out, but the man stayed silent otherwise. “What else did she say, Nick?” He was quiet for more than a few seconds, and then he said your name, waiting until you’d looked over at him to continue.

“She said that I can’t expect anything from this, that I shouldn’t get my hopes up that just because you came here to help me out, it means that we can keep… in contact.” Nick chewed on his lower lip briefly, and then shook his head back and forth. “She said I have to be realistic, and understand that what I did to you, what I’ve put you through? You aren’t just going to forget about it.” You weren’t surprised that Gina had been so brutally honest with her son, because she always had been, but it shocked you somewhat that she’d been so quick to twist the conversation to support you and your emotions - especially since she’d talked to him often while he was gone. “She’s a big fan of you.”

“Seems like it.” You didn’t know what else to say, and so you chose not to say anything, standing up before reaching for your beer and taking a long swallow. “What, um…” Turning to face him, you lowered the bottle to your side. “What do you want to do for dinner? I know we just had popcorn, but I’m sure you’re hungry.” He seemed taken aback by the sudden change in conversation, but you hoped he understood that you needed a break - even if only a short one.

“I…” Nick also took a drink. “Pizza, maybe? There’s gotta be a Papa John’s or a Pizza Hut around here.”

“Nick.” Dropping down onto the end of his bed, you raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t force either of those places on my worst enemy as their first real pizza in two years.” You were relieved to watch him attempt to conceal a smile. Good. “There’s gotta be a local place close by, want me to look?” Hesitantly, he nodded, and so you finished your beer and then reached for your phone. “Couple places in walking distance. One of them is net to that gas station we passed, next to a tattoo shop?”

“That’s fine with me.” He finished his beer, too. “Want to go now?”

—

By the time you’d finished your pizza, the two of you were much more relaxed, and you were thankful for it. He’d started asking you questions as you ate, wanting to know more about what things had been like for you since he’d left - how your friends were, how work was, if anyone had asked about him.

And you’d answered, hoping that what you said hadn’t disappointed him too much. You knew that no one had visited him, and that few people - if anyone - had tried to contact him while he was locked up. But Nick took it in stride, and even though he’d admitted that he knew there was a lot of work to do in order to start making things up to the people he’d left behind, you could tell that he wanted to. Good. Maybe he can salvage some of those friendships, too.

He told you more about the people he’d met in jail - the routines he’d had to create and stick to, the work he’d done and the things he’d learned. As he spoke, the man became more confident, flashes of the old Nick coming out more frequently. Watching him - the man gesturing with his hands, his smile wide at times, the way he leaned closer to you when he spoke, you understood that even though a year and a half of his life had been taken from him, Nick would come out on the other side and be just fine.

There would be lingering effects - like the way he ate quickly, taking larger bites than you’d ever seen him take before, the way each time he’d been in a room with you, he’d made sure not to put his back to the door while sitting, and the way he always made sure to tell you when he was getting up and walking away - and you didn’t know how long they’d last. I’m sure he doesn’t know, either… but they won’t be permanent. Not if he doesn’t want them to be.

When you finished eating and headed back out and into the somewhat cooler night air, you didn’t hesitate to move closer to Nick, who was walking on the outside of the sidewalk, closest to the street. I wonder… “Did you get any tattoos while you were inside, Nick?” Pointing at the closed tattoo shop as you passed it, you turned your head toward him. “Is that even a thing? Or do the TV shows just -”

“I didn’t.” He laughed. “A knew a couple people that did, but never wanted to.” He held up his hand. “Still my only one.” You could see the bullseye on his hand clearly, and after only a few seconds, he dropped it back to his side. “I figured that once I got out, trying to get a job would be easier if I didn’t have tattoos all over, at least to start.”

“Smart.” That means he’s thinking about what comes next. “Do… will you be able to get a job? I don’t know how any of this works, or what -”

“My lawyers worked magic.” Nick cleared his throat. “I don’t have a felony record, like I said before. They somehow got me a plea deal for a couple misdemeanors that included reckless endangerment because I fought with him on that trail and then ran. But the people I talked to while I was in? Counselors and some of the other inmates? They all seemed to believe that I’ll be able to find something even if I’m completely truthful.” Good. That’s… really good. “Figure I can start by trying to work somewhere third shift - a grocery store, maybe, or some warehouse. I’ll work under the table if I have to, but I already know it’s probably gonna be some time before I can afford to move out of my mom’s.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot.” He confirmed that he had, the two of you stopping before crossing the street to get back to your hotel. “That’s good. There’s a ton of places hiring, that bulletin board in my building’s lobby has a bunch of ads. Maybe when we get back, you can take a look.”

“I’ve still got some money in my account, but not a ton.” He sighed. “And I owe my mom, so I’ve gotta get that taken care of before -”

“I still have my engagement ring, Nick. I can give it back and you can sell it if you need to.” The words came out before you could stop them, feet freezing in place. Oh, shit. I shouldn’t have… “I just mean… we’re not getting married anymore, and it’s been sitting in a box for -”

“I’m not selling your ring.” He turned on you, lip curled up and into a snarl. “I gave that to you, it’s yours.” Yeah, but - “I’ve taken enough from you. I won’t take that, too.”

“It’s always an option, Nick.” You lowered your voice, crossing your arms over your chest protectively as you walked. “That could be an apartment, or a decent used car, or -”

“No.” Nick stopped walking, turning to face you. He said your name as he reached out, settling his hands on your shoulders. “If anyone’s going to sell that, it’s you. This isn’t just a broken engagement, it’s an ‘I fucked this up royally and so you get to do whatever you want’ scenario.” The two of you looked at each other for long moments, the sound of cars whizzing by the only distraction. He was the first to break it, closing his eyes and tilting his head back before he spoke. “How long did you leave it on for?”

When he met your eyes again, his were shining, and you knew what he was trying to do by asking the question. Don’t do this to yourself. “It doesn’t matter. The answer’s going to hurt no matter what it is, right?” His eyes flashed, confirming your suspicion. “I didn’t take it off right away, and that’s all you need to know.” It was your turn to hold up a hand, showing him your bare fingers. “I took it off when it became crystal clear that you weren’t coming back.”

He didn’t need to know that it had taken almost two months for you to remove the ring for good, or that while you’d continued to wear it, you’d also held out hope that he was going to reappear in your life. He didn’t get to know that even after you took it off, you’d left it out so that you could see it on a daily basis. You weren’t going to tell him that it was still in your top drawer, nestled in the tiny box that he’d given it to you in, because you hadn’t had the heart to put it anywhere else. Because what good will that do?

“Hey.” Reaching up, you encircled his wrists with your fingers. “Can we make a promise to each other?” He didn’t answer, though he tilted his head to one side, narrowing his eyes. “This whole thing has hurt enough for the last few years, right?” He looked wary, but agreed. “So… why don’t we try and just … not say or do anything that’s going to cause more unnecessary hurt?” Swallowing, you shook your head back and forth. “It’s gonna happen, Nick. We’re going to make mistakes, but why make it worse?” There’s no point, and there hasn’t ever been a point. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to just … get stuck in this endless cycle of rehashing the last couple -”

“If you can do that, I’ll try, too.” He shifted his weight, nodding. “I guess I just figured if I -”

“Stop punishing yourself.” Dropping your hands back to your sides, you shrugged. “You’ve had a year and a half to do that, Nick. Even longer if you’re including when you left me, and what’s the point? What good is it going to do for either of us?” It hasn’t done any fucking good because I’m here right now, so… “Knowing details about you and Elena isn’t going to change anything. You trying to make yourself feel worse about everything that happened isn’t going to help. Maybe that’s… maybe us just trying to move past all of -”

“Can we go inside?” He wrinkled his nose. “We’re standing next to a damn dumpster right now and this doesn’t feel like a conversation that… this isn’t the right place for this, hmm?” You had to laugh at that, rolling your eyes, but only a few minutes later, you were back in the room, shoes off and stretched out on your back on the bed while Nick used the bathroom. It makes so much sense now. Closing your eyes, you placed your hands against your stomach, breathing deeply. When Nick was gone, it was simpler to come up with reasons to be mad at him, and when you’d seen him again for the first time and the conversation had veered, you’d taken the simplest route and said something biting - designed to hurt him. But it didn’t help. I immediately felt guilt, even if he deserved to hear it.

And when it came to you, Nick had been asking you things that were very pointed - aimed to get certain responses out of you. Because he’s trying to make himself feel worse, and instead of hurting me, he’s hurting himself. It had taken you too long to understand what he was doing and why, but you were thankful that you’d figured it out. Because now we can change things. Now… we can stop before we - “That looks comfortable.”

He was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, the button-down shirt removed and slung over one shoulder. “It is.” Grinning at him, you turned your head. “I know our bed was really…” Our bed. It was the truth, but it was still strange to say it out loud after so long. Shit. “Our bed’s comfortable, but this one’s even better, which is kind of a surprise.” He stepped into the room, unfazed by your words and dropped the shirt onto his bag before he sat down on the other bed.

“How much of the house is the same?” Nick wet his lips. “What have you changed?” It was a loaded question, but you didn’t sense that he was searching for a reason to get upset - you thought that he was just curious.

“Not much, to be honest.” You turned onto your side, propping your head up with one elbow, palm against your cheek. “Bought a new area rug for the living room. Got some new outdoor furniture for the back patio. Adrian came over and we moved our bed into the guest room, because it … there were too many memories, Nick. I couldn’t sleep in it without you there.” He winced, but you continued. “But aside from that, everything’s pretty much the same, except the stuff you didn’t take with you is in boxes in the basement.”

“Will you let me come and get it when I figure out where I’m staying?” He frowned. “It’s not fair that it’s taking up space. I’m sure my mom’s got room in her -”

“You can leave it as long as you need to, Nick. It’s been there for a while now, so a couple more months is nothing.” Sighing, you pushed up and into a sitting position, crossing your legs on the bed. “We should finish the conversation we were having outside, though.”

“We should.” He gestured to the fridge. “Want to finish these last two beers?” You did, but once each of you had one in hand, you remained silent. I need to just say it.

“I made that suggestion, Nick, because I think that if we’re ever going to get past what’s happened and be ok around each other, we’re going to need to understand that everything isn’t going to get better. There’s always going to be things that we want to say and do to hurt each other, and we could, because we know each other, and know how to get under the other person’s skin … but it won’t help. And that isn’t… who we are.” You took a sip, locking eyes with him. “That’s not who I want to be. You don’t do that to people you love.” Not on purpose, anyway.

—

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing from you. Your suggestion made sense - and you were absolutely correct in saying that the two of you knew how to push each other’s buttons … but the fact that you were so willing to take a step back and be civil with him was still stunning. And it sounds like she means after we get back home, too.

He’d prepared himself for the inevitable blowup, where you lashed out and said as many hurtful things as possible. He’d readied himself to sit there and take it, letting all of your pent up emotion and frustration from the previous years wash over him until you were spent. He owed you that much. And he also knew that as certain as you seemed to be about trying to move forward and not dwelling in the past, there was a chance that at some point, you would take some of your anger out on him - not because you meant to, but because you couldn’t stop it from happening. But I don’t think it’s going to be now.

Dinner had been great; his first real pizza in as long as he could remember, meaningful conversation, your company. He’d let himself completely relax, Nick catching up with you as though he’d just been out of town for a while instead of locked up for over a year and gone for longer than that, but the conversation on the way back to the room had changed things.

You’d offered to give him back your ring like it was a logical choice. You’d given him an option to take back something that you’d loved dearly just because it would make his life easier. And then, after he’d snapped at you about it, you’d pivoted to trying to convince him that the two of you needed to cool it when it came to digging at each other. It won’t do any good to talk about my relationship with Elena in detail. It won’t do any good to think about her all alone in our house until she decided to make changes. It won’t do either of us good to insult each other or punish each other. And she knows it as well as I do, and…

He hadn’t thought that you would have thrown away his belongings - but offering to continue storing them? Telling him to come get them whenever was convenient for him? Nick was almost positive that you were destined for sainthood - and he’d still walked out on you. But I won’t do that again. Not unless she tells me to go.

If it meant standing by and watching you find your happiness with someone else, he’d do it. If it meant you keeping him at arm’s length, he’d do it. Because that’s what you do for someone you love. “It isn’t who we are. You’re right.” He clasped his hands together, the beer bottle cool against his palms. “Fuck, I wasted so much time.”

He wasn’t looking for your reassurance, and you didn’t give it to him. Instead, you eyed him cautiously, taking a few small drinks of your beer. He could tell you wanted to say something, but instead of doing so, you kept silent, waiting. As he looked at you, he let himself really look - taking in the way that while the small details of your face had changed - added wrinkles at the corners of your eyes, a slight sadness in the tilt of your head, the droop of your lips more pronounced - you were largely the same, the years he’d been gone not changing you as much as they’d aged him. And for good reason. “Don’t waste any more, then.”

You said it like it was simple, and for the first time in 18 months, Nick realized that it didn’t need to be difficult anymore. He wasn’t waiting for his sentence to be over. He wasn’t aimlessly making his way through long days filled with the same routine. He didn’t need to count down until the next time he got to speak to you or his mother. I can get my life back. “I don’t plan on it.” Swallowing another mouthful of beer, Nick set the bottle down on the nightstand, running his hands through his hair. “Thank you for being the responsible one here. For -”

“Aren’t I always?” Standing, you crossed the room and threw your bottle away after dumping the last of the liquid in it down the sink. “I mean, I don’t want to take too much credit, but…” Busying yourself with washing your hands, you trailed off and without even thinking about it, Nick was standing, too, walking to where you were and reaching over your shoulder to empty his bottle. It was a gamble, being so close to you without your explicit permission, but when you thanked him and inched to the side to give him more room, he took it as a sign that you weren’t upset. “We have to check out at 11 am tomorrow. There’s no charges on the room, so I think I can do it through the remote, before we go get breakfast. If we only stop once for gas and food and a couple times to stretch, that should get us back to your parents’ place about twelve hours later.”

“We’re gonna do it in one go?” He was still next to you, though he’d stepped back, leaning against the wall. “That’s a long drive.”

“It’s easy. Like three highways. A straight shot.” You shrugged, drying your hands after turning the taps off. “And I’m sure you want to see your mom, so…” He did - giving the woman a long hug and hearing her voice straight from the source and not through the phone or glass was high on his list of priorities, but as he watched you moving through the small hotel room, he realized that he wanted to stay near you more. “Plans might change, and I kept the rental until Friday night, just in case, but … I want to see how far we can make it.”

“We’re not stopping in Globe.” He groaned and you managed to keep a straight face for a few seconds before you laughed, head tilting back and your posture going loose. “I don’t ever want to set foot in that shitty little -”

“Fine by me.” You were still chuckling when you finally spoke again, cheeks round as you lifted one hand to scratch at your hairline. “You know, the only good thing about that place was that I got to see you when you apologized for the first time, so even though I don’t want to go back, it -”

“I had a plan.” He gestured toward the couch and the two of you moved back to it, Nick sitting on one of the smaller cushions while you stretched out on your side on the chaise portion, head turned toward him and knees bent. “For when I finally came back to Mesa one day. For … the inevitability of running into you.”

“Did you?” You tucked your palm between your cheek and the pillow, giving him a half smile. “What was it?” He sighed, hand gripping the back of his neck briefly. Might as well be honest.

“Well, before the Elena thing, I thought … I’d come home one day and see my mom. And I’d ask her for your address. She never told me that you were still in our house, so I didn’t know. But I thought … I thought maybe if I couldn’t deliver the letter through the mail, I’d take it and just drop it in your box, with a current phone number on it or something, and if you called… you called. And then I thought about just … randomly running into you, and how good it would feel to be honest with you in person.” Nick wet his lips, looking down and then back at you. “And then when it all went to shit with Elena and Ryan, and we had to go? I was still going to stop in Mesa on the way out to the coast, but only to see my mom and say goodbye. I was going to leave the letter with her then, and tell her to give it to you for me, because at that point, I knew… I wasn’t coming home again.” He scoffed. “So, you know, maybe this whole thing could have been a lot worse, because… I lost out on a couple years of my life, but at least I’m not going to be on the run for the rest of it.”

You were silent for a long time when he finished, and Nick was surprised to realize that he felt lighter at his revelation - even if you didn’t believe him. “So…” You shifted, inhaling as you narrowed your eyes. “So aside from what actually happened, the only other way that I would have gotten to see you again, to talk to you… was if we randomly saw each other in the few hours that you were in Mesa visiting your mom?” You sat up, blinking slowly. “Then as shitty as it sounds, Nick? I’m glad that it didn’t come to that. I wish … I wish that there would have been another option, but out of the ones that you just explained to me? I got the -”

“I was a chickenshit. I was so afraid to try and talk to you because I didn’t know how you’d react, and thought… the longer I stayed away, the more I was able to convince myself that it was all the right call. This forced me to make a decision, one way or another. But at least now you know.”

“Yeah. It took a severe head wound and the loss of a lot of blood, but …” You were making a joke, but he knew that it wasn’t funny to you - he could hear it in your tone. “Even the best laid plans, hmm?” Reaching out, you settled one hand on his knee, the other finding the one that he’d been resting on the cushion next to him, Nick’s fingers slotting with yours. It felt good to touch you that way, to feel the pressure of your hand against his, and when you squeezed his fingers, he squeezed back. “This is really hard, Nick.”

Your voice broke, and he moved quickly, scooting forward without letting go of your hand, his other one sliding over your shoulder and against your back as he gave you a one-armed hug. “It is. I always knew it would be, but…” But it’s so much harder because of how this is all going down. “Tell me what you want me to do right now, Calabaza, and I’ll -”

“This.” You moved closer, too, turning your head and resting your cheek against his shoulder. “Just this, Nick.” But instead of doing what you asked, Nick pulled his hand free from yours, slipping that arm around your waist and urging you even closer. You hesitated - briefly, and then leaned all the way in, both of your arms around his midsection.

It was different than it had been in the parking lot, and even more different than the feeling of being close to you in the bed. Despite the fact that Nick had no idea how long the embrace would last, he closed his eyes and let himself enjoy it. Because nothing’s felt this good since … since a long time ago.

You stayed like that for a while, and when he leaned back against the cushions, you moved with him, adjusting your position to keep both of you comfortable. “It still feels…” You trailed off and Nick finished the sentence in his head, angling his chin down so that he could tuck it against the top of your head. Natural. Right. Comforting. Any one of the words fit - and were true, but he knew that you wouldn’t say any of them, and so he didn’t either. “I lied to you.” You pulled away abruptly, sitting up straight and pressing your lips together. “I’m sorry, but -”

“About what?” Heart pounding in his chest, Nick sat up, too. “What did you lie about?” You shook your head back and forth, closing your eyes.

“I lied when you told me to tell you what I wanted you to do.” He watched you closely - lip curling slightly, the tick of your jaw noticeable as you struggled with whatever was going to come out next. “That’s not… I want…”

“Tell me.” He groaned. “Just -”

“I want you to kiss me, Nick, I want you to kiss me and not stop.” What? When you opened your eyes, he saw that they were once again filled with tears. “I want you to pull me into that bed right there and tell me that you’re sorry and that you still love me. I want you to touch me, and even if you don’t mean any it, I don’t care, because I need to hear it. And I need to feel you -” His heart broke then - not because what you were asking for was unthinkable, but because it was all he could think about, and knowing that you also wanted it was too much for him to consider. “Fuck, Nick. I don’t know why I thought that I could come here and be around you and not -”

“It’s a bad idea.” He heard himself say the words but was unsure how he was speaking so clearly, his voice steady. “I want it too - all of it - but it’s a bad idea, and -”

“I don’t care.” Swiping beneath your eye with the back of your hand, you whipped your head back and forth. “Believe me, I know that all of this is a bad idea and I don’t fucking care, because -” A sob erupted from your throat then, and you covered your face with both hands, shoulders shaking as you cried. It’s a terrible idea. It wouldn’t help anything. It would make it all worse. He hated seeing you cry - hated knowing that he was the cause of your tears. And I have been since Ieft. I have been since… fuck.

“Hey.” He reached out, cautiously encircling your wrists with his fingers and pulling both hands away from your face as he said your name. “Look at me.” You did, eyes rimmed with red, tear tracks visible on your cheeks. “It’s a bad idea because all of it would be the truth, and I think you know that as well as I do.” He took a deep breath, focusing on the way your pulse was pounding against the pads of both thumbs. “And it wouldn’t do anything but make all of this hurt more, because I have … I have a lot of work to do before I can …” Exhaling, Nick closed his eyes. “I have a lot of work to do with myself before I can even think about trying to -”

“Then don’t think, Nick. Don’t think about anything past tonight. Or tomorrow, or whenever we get to -” He stood then, ripping his hands away from you and using both of them to grasp at his hair. She doesn’t mean it. She thinks she does, but she’d regret it. “We’re adults, Nick. We can do this. We can just have sex, and -”

“It’s never been just sex with you.” He dropped both hands to his sides, turning to face you. “I want to tell you yes more than anything.” You closed your eyes, a sad smile visible as you lowered your chin. “I want to spend the last twelve hours in this room with you in that bed, but we both fucking know that it’s not gonna end there. I hate myself for what I did to you and you haven’t forgiven me yet, but it doesn’t seem like that makes any goddamn difference right now.” And I don’t have any fucking condoms anyway, which is absolutely non-negotiable at this point.

“It doesn’t.” Meeting his eyes again, he saw clarity in yours. “I’m still so fucking mad at you, Nick. But like I said, I -” Get out of here. Put space between you.

“I’m going to go.” Your eyes widened and he held up his hand, saying your name. “I’m not leaving, I’m just going to give us a few minutes.” You exhaled, both hands flat on the cushions next to you. “This got really… real really fast.” He closed the distance between the two of you and leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’m not going to fuck up a chance to keep you in my life long term just to jump into bed with you right now, alright? And if I stay in this room, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself.” Your nod was tiny - but he felt it, the agreement resigned but certain. “Just gimmie like fifteen or twenty minutes. I’ve got my key, I’m going to go walk around the hotel, and then come back, and we can … we can talk about this.” He pulled away, hesitated and then angled his head so that he could press his lips to your forehead, desperately wishing that he was kissing your mouth instead. Fuck. “I’m coming back, I promise.”

You didn’t say anything as he straightened up, moving toward the door and sliding his feet into shoes as he checked his wallet for the room key. ‘Nick?” You finally spoke up and he turned to face you, one hand in his pocket, the other loose by his side. “This isn’t just me getting emotional because we’re here together. This is … I’ve spent the last two years trying to convince myself that I couldn’t possibly still love you, and the last year and a half forcing myself to believe that not telling you how conflicted I am was the better option. I can’t pretend anymore. And at least now you know that even after what you d… what happened, I never stopped, even when I should have.” Rubbing both hands on the tops of your thighs, you shrugged. “You clearly moved on, and even after I knew about Elena and how close you got to her, it didn’t … it didn’t change anything.” Moved on? How can she think that? How… But Nick knew exactly how and why you thought that - because his absence and silence, along with the information you’d learned about what he’d done in Texas left you with no other choice. It doesn’t matter how much I tell her that I loved or love her, everything else that happened … makes it harder to believe. “Go, Nick. I’ll be here. You’re probably right. We need a few minutes.”

Your smile was more genuine, and when you lifted one hand to wave him off, he could see that you were less rigid, the fear of telling him your deepest secret gone. You still loved him - more than just a part of you, and even though Nick hadn’t been shy about admitting it in the initial letter, he hadn’t said it out loud. Not yet. Not… until it’s the right time.

The door closed behind him, and as Nick made his way down the hallway, he finally let out a long, deep breath, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. He really did need to figure out a lot about himself - and his future - before he could worry about you and any potential reconciliation. He was desperate to understand his behavior and begin to make changes, but you were right. He didn’t have to worry about those things that night. He didn’t have to start thinking seriously about them until he was home and had a long term plan. What he needed to think about was you, in the room that he’d just vacated - and what your continued presence might mean.

By the time he was in the lobby, though, Nick had the beginnings of a plan - one that wouldn’t take long to set into motion … and he also had a destination in mind.

—

tag list coming separately!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #fire meet gasoline #pedrostories #female reader #nick caldwel #nick caldwel x female reader #it's dangerous to fall in love #it's dangerous to fall in love masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #nick caldwel masterlist #please read the warnings

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

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It’s Dangerous to Fall In Love Part 5 - Preview

Just opened up the doc to work on it and it turns out that I’ve got the next part complete. Just needs another edit tonight and it’s good to go. Oops.

Catch up on parts 1-4 here

.... but here’s a sneak peek at what’s coming next in Part V: Certain With Desire

He’d told you that he loved you in the letter, but you hadn’t ever said it back until the situation had forced it - and you hadn’t gone any further until that day, admitting that even though you knew it was stupid, you couldn’t just turn off the way you felt about him.

As you began to towel off, you heard the door close and then footsteps on the floor followed by the sound of your name. “I’m in here, Nick. Be right out.” Him coming back wasn’t a shock - he’d said that he would, and he hadn’t taken anything with him. And he seemed calm; the door hadn’t slammed and he wasn’t stomping around, the man’s voice even, although slightly cautious when he told you that he was back and to take your time. Getting dressed in your pajamas - more shorts and a t-shirt that had seen better days - you checked your phone before heading back into the bedroom, and even though it wasn’t even midnight, it felt much later. “Bathroom’s yours, Nick. I -” Stopping in your tracks, you cocked your head to one side, eyes on your bed. “What’s… what is that?”

#nick caldwel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal charcter #nick caldwel x female reader #it's dangerous to fall in love #sneak peek #certain with desire #coming tomorrow #fire meet gasoline

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

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Not Like The Movies - 4

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female reader

Word Count: 7.960

Rating: NSFW. This is a smutty one.

Summary: After leaving the date with his friends, you and Javi make your way back to his apartment. What begins in the car gets finished later that night ... but not in the way you imagined it would be.

Author’s note:

I’m really sorry that this took me so long to get out. I’ve been working on it for a LONG time, but I got very sidetracked by Nick Caldwel and have written like 50k for him in a couple weeks.

I have a rough idea where pat 5 of this story is going, so hopefully the next chapter won’t take me a million years.

Thank you for your patience with this one! <3

Masterlist can be found here!

Zeke picked you up from in front of the hotel not even an hour later, Javi leaning forward once you were both seated to tell the man in the front seat that the final destination for the evening was his apartment. You watched Zeke nod, his eyes visible in the rearview mirror as he spoke to your date. “There’s some traffic tonight, Mr. Gutierrez. It may take a few minutes longer than usual.”

“That is fine.” Javi leaned back, his arm around your shoulders. “We are in no hurry.” That wasn’t quite true, but since neither of you had plans the following day, it was true enough. “Still very early, hmm?” Javi sighed as you laid your head on his shoulder, his fingers idly moving over your arm’s bared skin. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“I did.” Swallowing, you closed your eyes and thought, settling a hand on his leg. “I don’t think Megan expected you to bring me along, though.” He laughed, chest rumbling.

“She probably did not. Paige and Marco have been hoping that they could find someone for me to date, and she’s the newest of them. She seemed very interesting the first time I met her, but …” He shrugged. “She is not my type.” You wondered what about her wasn’t to Javi’s liking, but as the car finally pulled away from the curb, you decided it didn’t matter.

The moment you’d told him you were ready to leave, things had shifted between the two of you - from the simmering attraction you’d felt right off the bat to something more alive, a tension that was almost palpable in the way that you looked at him or that he spoke to you. But it was the way you touched each other that made it feel nearly electric.

Every brush of his hand against your arm or leg made you feel breathless, the way his eyes widened and his lips parted whenever you’d laid a hand on his back coupled with the sharp intake of breath when you leaned over to kiss his cheek as a thank you for a compliment he paid you told you everything you needed to know.

He wanted you as much as you wanted him.

Even though the ride back to his apartment wouldn’t have taken more than fifteen minutes on a good day, the time until you’d truly be alone together seemed endless. And there’s nothing that I can do about it. You could have kissed him soundly on the mouth. Javi wouldn’t have cared, though it would have likely been a little uncomfortable for Zeke to see in the mirror. It will be worth it to wait. You could have initiated conversation, focusing the man’s attention on you completely in preparation for arrival at his apartment - but you decided not to, your level of boldness tempered by your surroundings.

Eyes still closed, you relaxed against Javi’s body, the man warm and solid next to you. Unconsciously, you began to rub the tips of your fingers over the top of his leg, palm settled at the center of his thigh. He hummed quietly, and the sound forced your eyes open, brows shooting up. Maybe I don’t have to wait.

Sliding your hand over slowly, you angled your wrist so that you were stroking the inside of his thigh, each pass moving a little higher on his leg. The man murmured your name but you ignored him, closing your eyes again and continuing, a small smile on your face. “What are you doing?” He whispered the words, turning his head so that he was speaking into the top of yours. “You do not need to -”

Instead of answering, you slid your hand even higher, your little finger sinking into the crease of his leg, the tips of the longer ones brushing his zipper. I know I don’t need to. The hand on your shoulder tightened, and with the next pass of your fingers, you covered him with your palm, applying a little pressure. You felt that he was stiffening, a bulge growing beneath the soft material that covered the lower half of his body. Perfect. “How did you meet Paige and Marco, Javi?”

He sucked in another breath as you spoke and you barely concealed your laugh, the man’s answer coming after a few moments - and another few slow passes of your hand. “I met… Marco first. He designed a ring that I bought for my father’s birthday a few years ago, and I flew him to Mallorca so that he could deliver it in person.” Javi cleared his throat as you curled your fingers and gave him a gentle squeeze through his pants. “P…Paige accompanied him. She fell in love with the compound, and the three of us became… we became friends.” He sighed, and as you glanced up, you saw that Javi’s lips were parted, the man’s breathing slightly heavier than it had been only moments earlier. You like that, don’t you.

Looking past him, you saw that you were about halfway to Javi’s place, though the car was still moving more slowly than usual, the sound of horns honking faint through the closed doors and windows. “It’s got to be hard to be on a different continent than your friends.” Moving your hand again, you sighed as your palm curved around him. “It -” He shifted beneath you, hips rising from the seat as he pushed himself against your hand. He’s doing pretty well at keeping it together… Wonder if I can change that. “Do you have other friends like them in California, Javi?”

As you spoke, you moved your hand further up, fingers grasping his zipper and beginning to tug it down. At that, though, he finally moved his other hand, reaching for you and pulling your hand away from his lap and up to his lips, pressing them to the back of it. “No. Not so fast.” He murmured the words against your skin, making eye contact with you as you straightened up and dropped your jaw in surprise. He’s stopping me? “I do have other friends like Paige and Marco on the west coast, yes.” He winked at you, and in the light that streamed in through the windows thanks to the cars that were passing by, you saw the amusement in his eyes. “I have made many friends here.”

“That’s because you’re a nice guy.” Pressing your lips together and nodding your head in defeat, you let out a sigh. “And we’re almost back to your place, so -” So no more time for me to tease you.

He didn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the ride, instead opting to settle your joined pair in the space between your laps. You wondered if he’d say anything when you got out of the car, and were curious to know what it might be - but you were more concerned with the way he’d stopped you, the definite end he’d put to your touch. Maybe it’s just because we’re in a car. Or maybe it - “We’re here.” Zeke spoke up from the front seat, saying Javi’s name. “I apologize for the delay.”

“There’s no reason to apologize, Zeke.” Javi waved him off, finally removing his arm from your shoulders. “Thank you. Have a good night and enjoy your day off tomorrow.” He opened the door and stepped out, reaching in for yours and waiting until you took his hand to back away, tugging you across the sidewalk and toward the front doors of his building. “You surprised me in the car.” Javi raised an eyebrow, still holding your hand tightly. “That was very… unexpected?”

“In a good way, I hope.” Your heart was beating rapidly, fingers twitching against his palm. “I was just trying to -” He tugged you closer, head shaking back and forth. “Javi?”

“Now it is my turn to do something unexpected.” He let go of your hand and brought both of his up to frame your face, his palms nearly engulfing your jaw. You thought that he was going to kiss you, but instead Javi just licked his lips, taking a deep breath. “Come to Los Angeles with me the next time I go.” What? “You do not have to answer right now, I am just extending the invitation. I… I would like to show you the city.” I … he… It was unexpected - by any stretch of the imagination - but you heard the genuine tone of his voice, the look in his eyes one of sincerity. “Maybe… maybe we should start with you coming up to my apartment?” He licked his lips. “That is probably a better thing to -”

“Javi.” Placing a hand flat on his chest, you grinned, cheeks heating at the implication. “Let’s go upstairs.” One thing at a time. “Come on.” Gesturing toward the door, you were relieved when Javi led the way, greeting the doorman and striding over to the elevator with you only a step behind him. He didn’t say anything as you rode to the top floor, but as soon as you were in his apartment he spun to face you, hands shooting out to land on your shoulders. What is he…

“I know what you said in the bar. What you implied in the car when you put your hand on me.” The man wet his lips. “But just because you are here, you don’t need to -”

“Hey.” It was strange for you - to be in the presence of a man that was waiting on your cues, that didn’t seem to be trying to take over the situation and lead you into the bedroom without much preamble. “I’m here because I want to be, Javi.” Reaching up with both hands, you encircled his wrists with your fingers. “So do with what what you will, but …” You were losing steam as each word left your mouth, uncertainty creeping in. It felt like the right thing to do at the bar and then in the backseat and… “Maybe it wasn’t -”

“You have said many times that the men in your life have been a disappointment to you.” He stepped closer, still touching you. “And I assured you that I wouldn’t be another. I don’t want you to think that… I expect anything just because we’ve gone out a few times.” You couldn’t help it: you laughed at his words, eyes closing as you nearly doubled over, one hand rising to cover your mouth. Expect? Oh, Javi. That’s the furthest thought from my mind. “Why are you laughing? What’s funny?”

“Javi.” Eyes still closed, you straightened up, drawing in a deep breath. “I know you don’t.” But. “But I expect something from you.” He looked confused, the man’s lips turning down in a slight frown as he waited. “Always say what you mean with me, please. Tell me the things you want or the things that you’re thinking. It isn’t going to do either of us any good if we circle around how we really feel.”

“Of course.” He wet his lips again, the man’s tongue dragging slowly over the lower one. “Of course that is what we should do.” He paused, eyes still on you. “I liked what you were doing in the car. No one’s ever …” He shook his head. “No one’s ever been that bold with me before.”

“What?” You couldn’t believe it - with Javi’s looks and status, you’d figured that he’d had his fair share of experience with women. And because of his wealth, you figured that he was used to being driven places, giving him and his dates a chance to be alone in the backseats of cars and limos. But maybe not… maybe Gabriela was the only serious one, and that didn’t last long enough to… “Javi?” Wait a minute. “Javi, you’re not trying to tell me that you’ve never … you’ve … you’ve had sex, right? Like this isn’t me -”

“Of course I have.” He rolled his eyes, the frown disappearing. “That isn’t what I’m saying. But because of who I am and who my family is, women have always been… intimidated. And that is one of the things that I liked about Gabriela. She wasn’t.” He scoffed. “She was bold and charming and saw me for me. She didn’t let the Gutierrez name or my cousin Lucas scare her off.” We went from talking about me basically giving him a handjob to him singing his ex’s praises. What the fuck? “But she still never surprised me, do you understand?”

“No.” Why lie? “No, I don’t.” He swore under his breath, the sound of rapidfire Spanish reaching your ears, and Javi looked up at the ceiling, scrubbing a hand over his face. I’m fucking this up.

“Until I met Nic, there was very little in my life that surprised me. I had my writing and my love of cinema. I had a few close friends and I had Gabriela. But those things only did so much to make me happy. Because of him, of Nic, I learned that I could be myself and that I could want things for myself that weren’t …” He swore again. “I am a different man than I was last year at this time, if you can believe it.”

“I can.” How could he not be? “But I’m sorry, I still don’t… I don’t know where you’re going with this.” The two of you were still standing in the entryway of his apartment, facing each other, and when Javi reached for your hand, you let him take it, the man’s thumb gliding slowly over your knuckles.

“I don’t want my life to be boring and ordinary. I don’t want to always know what comes next. I don’t want to do things because they are easy or be with people because it makes sense or is safe.” He said your name, tightening his hold on your hand and urging you closer. “My life is not a movie, and I know this, but … but sometimes I cannot help the way I wish that it could be.”

He was telling you the exact opposite of what you believed - the man admitting to wanting so many of the things that you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t ever wish for in a relationship - or dreamed that you could have in your life. No. That’s not exactly right. “You want to follow your heart, Javi, right? You want to do things that you want to do, not what you’re expected to do.” He nodded in return, eyes widening and both brows shooting up. “You don’t want routine, or for every day to feel the same, and you want people that will help you avoid -”

“Yes. Yes, exactly. Exactly. You understand, you -” He grinned at you, the expression changing the serious set of his features into one that reminded you of your childhood - hope and optimism and genuine excitement all in one. “You get it.”

“I do get it, Javi. But I don’t think that I’m -” I’m not the right person to give you that, because I have to be practical. I have to be … predictable.

“You are the perfect person for me to do those things with.” What? “And these past few weeks have been proof.” Proof? “We can do this together.” Javi’s hand reached out, palm settling against your side. “If that’s what you want.” He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “Because I want.”

He wasn’t just talking about you. Javi’s words were all encompassing; the man wanted more of his life in every way. He wanted to be himself, wanted to find love, wanted a life that wasn’t just olive groves and expectations. It was terrifying - the idea that you could agree with him, giving yourself over to the man, letting him show you what he meant. But at the same time, the fear meant that for better or worse, the outcome would mean something.

I don’t know if it’s going to be love, but… “I did say I was making a list, didn’t I?” Tilting your head to the side, you made your choice. “I’m not going to do all that work and then let you enjoy those places by yourself.”

The relief on his face was immediate, Javi pulling you against his chest and hugging you as tightly as he ever had. “Of course you’re not.” He moved his hands over your back, both of yours resting against his shoulder blades. “I’m sure that none of them would be as fun without you.” You let him hold you for a few seconds, both of you quiet - but your mind was racing. “I’ve got one more thing to say and then we can do… whatever it is that you would like to do with the rest of the night.”

“Yeah?” Pulling back so that you could look up and into Javi’s eyes, you nodded.

“A big part of the way I acted for many years in Mallorca was because I couldn’t do anything that drew attention to my family. That is not to say that I wasn’t… seen by the public, just that I had to behave a certain way, do you understand?”

“Yes. You had to set an example, because any unnecessary attention would have been bad.” He nodded again, the worry etched back into his features. You felt sorry for the man, despite all of the advantages that he’d had in his life, because it was clear that for many years, Javi hadn’t been able to be the person that he wanted to be or do all of the things that he would have liked. And it wasn’t that way for me. Despite everything, I’ve still been able to…

It hit you then - you’d had struggles and difficulties, but your life had been normal. You’d been allowed to make mistakes, allowed to choose the way you lived. You’d been free to make your own decisions from the moment you turned 18, and hadn’t had to worry about anything more than the way your friends and family would react. Javi wasn’t looking for a life that mimicked a blockbuster or a fairytale; he just wanted agency - he wanted to be as free as the characters he’d grown up loving, and that was a big difference. “I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Because now? Anything that I do or that people think about me? It will never compare to what Lucas did and tried to do. I have a … how do you say it here? A blank check?” You nodded twice and Javi smiled briefly, continuing. “I am proud to be a Gutierrez, despite what has happened. But I don’t just want to be that. I have started to make a name for myself, but the only way that I can continue to do that is -”

“By finding something that’s just yours.” You cut in, throat dry. “By doing the unexpected.” By dating someone that isn’t typical. “Javi -”

“That is why I went to the speed dating event. That is why I’m living in the middle of the city by myself. That is why I left Mallorca. Because I am trying to find what makes me truly happy, and I could not do it there with the people and things that I already know.” He took a deep breath. “I am finally getting to be myself. I am finally choosing my own path. The movie script I wrote with Nic was a good start, but it is not enough.”

Stepping closer, you reached up, tracing your fingertips over his stubbled cheeks, one of them lingering on the bare patch there. Neither of you spoke; Javi’s chest rising and falling as he caught his breath from his outburst and you staring into his eyes as you contemplated his words. It all made sense - and you couldn’t fault him for being so focused on spending time doing all of the things that he hadn’t been able to in his younger years. And I might get to be around for some of them. “Of course it’s not enough, Javi.” Wetting your lips, you shrugged. “And you shouldn’t settle. Especially now that you don’t have to.”

He looked relieved at your words, the man’s eyes widening slightly. “I will not settle. Ever.” He paused, eyes still focused on you. “Except…” Javi’s eyes darted down to your lips and then back up to meet yours. “I would settle for a kiss right now.”

“That was really fucking cheesy, and you know it.” But you were laughing, even as you rolled your eyes. “No. I’m not going to kiss you. Not yet.”

“Not yet?” He arched a brow, clearly confused. “But you… in the car, you -”

“We should watch something.” You held up a finger. “Not a movie, because I know you’d just want to pay attention to it. I mean putting something on the TV out here, and sitting on the couch.” He opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it, jerking your head in the direction of the living room - and the large couch there. “It’s not as private as the other room, but if you really want that New York City date night feel…” Dropping your hand to his shoulder, you squeezed. “You’ve gotta have the city lights shining in the window.”

“Ok.” He agreed immediately, his hands moving to your waist. “But can we still have popcorn?” You laughed then, leaning in to kiss him quickly on the cheek.

“Yes, Javi. Popcorn is fine.”

—

Twenty five minutes later, you and Javi were comfortable together on the couch, the TV playing on low volume. You could hear it, but it was quiet enough that the two of you could have spoken if you’d wanted - and you had, for the first few minutes anyway.

He’d handed you the remote after settling in, telling you to choose anything you wanted, and that had led to a conversation about the types of shows that each of you enjoyed. But once you’d settled on something, the conversation had died down, both of you focused on the screen. But not entirely.

His legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle on the ottoman, and even though he hadn’t changed from the outfit he’d worn out, the man had unbuttoned his dress shirt all the way, exposing the undershirt he had on beneath it - a soft, sleeveless one that was warm to the touch thanks to his body heat. You were leaning against his side, legs extended along the remaining space of the couch itself, and Javi had an arm around your shoulders, the position of it casual.

You’d held onto the popcorn bowl at first, keeping it in the space between his thigh and one of your arms, but as the amount in it dwindled, you decided to move it, leaning forward to set it on the floor before settling back into position. But when you moved that time, bending your knee, the skirt of your dress rode up, exposing more of your thigh. You hadn’t done it on purpose, but instead of fixing it, you reached down, repositioning the rest of the material so that it bunched between your legs.

His head turned at the motion, and you knew the man was watching what you were doing - but he still didn’t move his hand, keeping it near your shoulder and bicep. Hmm. Shifting again, you reached over, using one hand on his thigh to brace yourself as you sat up straighter, Javi’s hand slipping down toward your elbow with the change in position. “Are you alright? Do you need me to -” He paused. “Are you trying to get comfortable, or are you trying to -”

“Javi.” Tilting your head back, you found that he was staring down at you, one lock of hair hanging over his forehead in a curl while the rest was still pushed away from his face. Oh, that … it… Biting your lip, you closed your eyes. “I’m really comfortable. I could fall asleep like this, but to tell you the truth, I don’t want to sleep.” You didn’t want to lay everything out for him, because you wanted him to figure out what you were getting at on his own. Because if he says it, that means he wants it, and … “But if you’re not comfortable, then we can -”

“It might be more comfortable if we laid down.” He blinked at you, no trace of hesitation in his words or expression. “There is plenty of room.” He was right - there was plenty of room, the oversized couch cushions making it easy for both of you to get into position on your sides, Javi’s broad body behind yours. It was even more comfortable than it had been when you were both sitting up, and even though you couldn’t see Javi’s face, you knew he was smiling, the arm around your waist tightening as you bent one, tucking it beneath the pillow your head rested on.

It was Javi that moved first, his hand sliding backwards from your belly to rest on your hip, long fingers smoothing out the material of your dress. Oh, shit. Is he really… You didn’t dare move because you didn’t want him to stop, but when his fingers brushed over the bare skin of your thigh, you couldn’t keep the quiet sigh from escaping, your body automatically moving back and further toward his. The single touch turned into Javi’s palm curving around your leg and staying there, fingers still but his thumb swiping back and forth in a slow, soothing motion.

A few minutes of that was all you could stand - your body shifting so that you could look up at him, the arm that you’d shoved beneath the pillow rising to pull his mouth down to yours. His hand slipped, too, fingers tight against the inside of your thigh, and at the added pressure you gasped, lips still pressed to his. “Is this alright?” He didn’t pull away to speak, and when you nodded in return, tugging on his hair to keep him close, Javi deepened the kiss, tongue licking across your lower lip and then dipping into your mouth.

The kiss was salty, just like the popcorn that the two of you had shared, and you couldn’t help it - letting out a tiny giggle at the realization that if there was anything more suitable for the man, you didn’t know what it could possibly be. He pulled away in a hurry, eyes wide, but you were quick to reassure him. “No, no, Javi. It’s…” Moving your hand from his hair, you dragged your thumb over his lips before bringing it down to yours. “This isn’t our first kiss, but it…” Closing your eyes briefly, you took a deep breath before continuing. “You taste like the movies, Javi. Like -”

It was stupid and it was cheesy, but it was obviously the right thing to say because when he kissed you again, there was nothing slow about it, Javi’s lips crashing into yours, the hand moving from one leg and to the opposite side of your body before sliding behind your thigh and beneath your dress, his fingertips digging into the curved flesh beneath them. It was the most forward he’d been with you and you loved it, feeling the way his chest pressed against yours from the front and his strong hand urged you up from behind.

You didn’t know where it would lead - or if Javi would restrain himself and pull his hands and mouth away from you before it could lead anywhere, but you decided that it didn’t matter, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the kiss, Javi’s weight pressing you down, against the couch cushion. You tugged on the lapel of his shirt, attempting to move it down and over his shoulder, and though he didn’t remove his mouth from yours, you felt his shoulder shift, the material sliding over the top of his arm. “Take it off, Javi.” You sighed the words out when the two of you broke apart for air. “It’s not doing anything but -” He moved quickly, pushing up and onto one arm before pulling the other from beneath your body, making short work of the shirt before it joined the popcorn bowl on the floor.

He didn’t lower himself back into his original position right away, instead using one hand to touch you - his lips curving upward into a soft smile as he trailed his fingers over your temple and cheek and then along your jaw, using one knuckle to tilt your head back so that he could more easily lean over and kiss you. “I have not been with anyone but Gabriela in a very long time.” He spoke quietly, a small frown on his face. “So I don’t know if I’m -”

“It’s alright.” Tucking his hair behind his ear - though you left the curl on his forehead in place - you shook your head. “We don’t have to -” His hand moved from your shoulder and then down, tracing along the neckline of your dress before it moved lower, you barely registering pressure as it passed over the swell of your breast. “Javi…”

“I do not know if I’m doing what you like.” He murmured the words, lowering his mouth to meet yours again. “You’ll need to tell me.” I can do that. He moved his lower body then, twisting at the waist so that he could slot one leg between yours, the material of his pants soft against the insides of your thighs as it pushed your skirt up to pool at your waist. Javi said your name then, his hand back at your waist and then moving lower, once again finding the bare skin of your leg as he urged you to bend your knee.

You couldn’t help your body’s reaction - hips rolling forward as you sought the friction of his leg, and at the feeling, he moaned into your mouth, his grip tightening at the same time your hands found purchase on his broad back, the edges of your nails digging in. “I like it, Javi.” Nodding, you kissed him again, that one sloppy and open-mouthed. I like it a lot.

It was moving fast and you knew it, but there was no reason to deny the attraction to the man. You’d been ready to pull him free of his pants in the backseat of his car and he’d invited you to travel with him, so the shared kisses and bodily contact in the privacy of his apartment seemed almost trivial in comparison. We both want this. His hand moved higher again, the man’s fingertips catching on the fabric of your underwear, and at that he did back off, eyes going wide as he waited for your response.

It took a few seconds for you, but when you did react, it was with another roll of your hips, one of your hands releasing the material of his shirt and moving up to grip the silken strands of hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned, leaning down to press his lips against yours, and then you felt Javi’s leg move again, dragging along the center of your body for a few brief moments. That coupled with the return of his hand made you whine, shifting beneath him to seek out more, and he gave it to you, his palm flat against the side of your leg, fingers beneath the hip strap of your underwear and his thumb settled into the crease of your leg.

You were reaching a point of no return - there were very few places that he could move his hand without actually touching you, and despite the way the pressure of his thigh felt against your core, you wanted it to be his hand instead. “Javi, I -” Chasing his kiss as he backed away, you breathed out, eyes still closed. “Use your hand. You said you wanted me to tell you what I -” He froze then, and when you opened your eyes you saw that he was watching you with his lips parted in surprise, both brows raised. “And if you let me, I’ll finish what I started in the -”

“Not tonight.” He took a long breath, eyes never leaving you face. “When it comes to me, I mean.” What? Why? “I told you that it has been a while. I would make a mess” He shook his head, eyes glinting. “I do not want to ruin this dress of yours.” You were about to reply, telling him that you could always just take it off, but chose to keep silent instead, nodding. “But you don’t have to ask me twice.” Javi pulled his hand free before using it to carefully move your dress higher, pushing it so that the material was gathered well above your waist. “Lift yourself.” You did, waiting until he gave you a single nod to relax again, the man pulling his thigh back a few inches, the removal of the pressure an unwelcome absence.

He pushed on your leg then, urging you to spread them further apart, and when he guided it down by holding behind your knee, your foot making contact with the carpeted floor, Javi’s lips parted in a wide grin. “Why are you smiling like that?” He didn’t answer right away, trailing his fingers up the outside of your leg, touch so light that it almost tickled.

“Because you look beautiful right now.” Javi winked. “Because I’ve been thinking about this for days, and now you are here and -”

“I am.” His hand was back at your thigh, touch still light. “I’m here, Javi.” The suspense was building and when he finally twisted his wrist, making it possible for the pads of his fingers to make contact with the already damp material covering the place between your legs, you cried out, mouth falling open as your eyes squeezed shut.

He nearly purred your name out as he continued to touch you, stroking over the lacy material with two fingers. After only a few seconds, you widened the spread of your legs further, surprising him. But he reacted too, capturing your lips with his in the same moment that he pushed the material to the side and dragged his fingers over your center for the first time, pressure light. He kissed you then, swallowing the sounds you made, and when you felt his hips flexing against your other leg, the man hard in his pants, you had to remind yourself that he’d said he didn’t want you to touch him. But he said no to my hand. Not to anything else.

Javi continued to use his fingers in a combination of strokes and small circles against you, and you moved your body as he did, rocking your hips against his hand and in turn dragging one of them along his zipper, the friction making him hiss into your mouth in the same breath as he kissed you. We can both enjoy this. You kept the kiss deep and felt him breathe out through his nose, the man reluctant to pull away from you, and you used that to your advantage, humming into his mouth. Yes, Javi. Yes, this is …

When he breached your body with his fingers for the first time, you were unprepared, the low moan swallowed easily by Javi before he pulled back, keeping his eyes on your face as he caught his breath. You were breathing hard from beneath him, Javi’s fingers sinking into you in a smooth, even rhythm, chest rising and falling as yours did. It took you a few moments but you realized that he was still grinding his hips against your opposite thigh, Javi seeking out the same friction that you had when his leg had been between yours.

”Can you come like this, Javi?” Forcing the words out between breaths, you waited for him to answer, his eyes narrowing briefly before he nodded, the man’s tongue poking out from between his lips. “Ok, because I meant it earlier, I -” Cutting yourself off, you exhaled a shaky breath as he curled his fingers inside you before slowly pulling them out, the man’s thumbnail dragging over your skin. “Fuck, Javi.”

It was unreal to you - that the man was content to touch you and nothing more, not even allowing you to palm him through his pants like you had before. I wonder why? I wonder what - But you couldn’t complete the thought, Javi’s fingers once more sinking into you, the man staring down with hooded eyes and a lazy smile on his face. “The question is not about me,” he finally said, hand and hips still moving. “Can you come like this?” Absolutely. Absolutely, especially if you keep -

He stilled his motion then, waiting. He actually wants an answer. I wasn’t… “Not if you stop, Javi.” Fingers moving through his hair, you nodded. “I can. I want to. And I want you to -” Sliding a hand between his body and the couch, you curled your fingers, the man’s zipper cool as it dug into your thigh. “I want you to, too.”

That was all it took, Javi resuming the motion of his hand as you kept yours in place, eyes squeezing shut as you lost yourself in the feeling. He rocked against you, too, using your offered thigh in place of your hand, and you couldn’t help yourself, slipping your fingers into his back pocket and urging him on, wishing that you had your hand on the man’s bare skin instead of whatever material his pants were made of. Later. We can do that later.

He brought you close a few times, easing the motion of his hand whenever he noticed a change in your breathing and pulling you away from the edge, but when he went to do that a third time, you cried out, telling him no, a gasp leaving your lips as you nearly begged him to keep going. “Don’t slow down. Please, Javi. Just … I want to …” Breathing hard, you turned your head to one side, cheek pressed against the pillow. “Fuck, I want to come, Javi. I want you to make me -” Cutting you off with a kiss, Javi doubled down on the thrusts of his fingers, your hips lifting off of the cushion enough to force him deeper.

The kiss turned sloppy, something that you wouldn’t have expected from the man - lips and tongue and teeth as he kept up the pace with his fingers, and only a minute or so later, you understood that he’d heard you - there wouldn’t be any stopping that time. I’m going to come. He’s going to make me come with his … Crying out, the sound a mixture of his name and noise, you felt your body tense, toes curling into the cushion beneath them as Javi slowed the movement of his fingers enough to increase frequency of his thumb’s motion - small circles against your skin, the sensation jarring - but no less pleasurable than the measured thrust of his thick fingers.

Your hips canted without your permission, his thumb slipping on your damp flesh and allowing for the heel of his hand to grind against your mound, and that was all it took.

You came apart at his touch, the kiss turning into nothing more than your open mouth against his as you gasped, closed eyes rolling back into your head as rode it out. “That’s good.” He murmured the words, pulling away from your mouth and dropping his head down against your collarbone, breath hot as it fanned out over your skin. “So good.” Muscles fluttering around him and squeezing his fingers while they were deep within you, you urged Javi’s hips to keep moving, hoping that the man would find his release soon, too. Want to feel it. Want him to… You shifted your leg, dragging your thigh against him, and then Javi cried out, too, though his sound was lower and longer than yours had been.

He kept touching you, even after your lower body relaxed, legs straightening out and your hips settled back against the couch, and you hummed at the way it felt - the dampness you could feel between your legs, likely coating your thighs as well as his fingers, part of you wondering what it had done to the couch. You couldn’t bring yourself to care as much as you should have, the man still hard against your leg, and after a particularly slow drag of his fingers, your entire body lurched, pressing harder against him and causing your fingers to curl more, digging into his ass to hold him in place. “Fuck, Javi.”

It didn’t even sound like you - your voice thin and broken, back arching along with your neck. “Fuck.” His hips stuttered at that, the pace picking up as he stilled his fingers and you knew that he was close, nodding your head as you kept speaking - saying his name, telling him how good he’d feel when he came, how good you felt because he’d already taken care of you, telling him that you wanted to feel it - and when he grunted as you took a breath, thinking of what to say next, you knew you didn’t have to.

He swore as he came, forehead buried against the side of your throat, his mouth open and panting out quick breaths against the upper part of your chest. The speech turned into a low moan, Javi’s wrist flexing in time with the movement of his hips, and when you felt it - added warmth soaking through his pants and touching your leg, you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face. Perfect. He was … that was … He collapsed against you, the arm draped over your body going limp as he withdrew his fingers entirely, hand resting on your opposite thigh.

Both of you were breathing hard, and while it wasn’t a typical sexual encounter for you, you’d enjoyed it nonetheless. Who wouldn’t? Finally pulling your hand away from him, you lifted it and then let your fingers run through the hair at the back of his head again, the strands slightly damp, though no less soft. “I think we still made a mess, Javi.” Humming as you ended the sentence, you shifted your hips, pressing your thighs together. “Feels like it anyway.”

He didn’t reply right away but when he did, he lifted his head so that he could look at you as he spoke, the satisfied look in his eyes accompanied with amusement. “The couch is stain resistant.” His smile grew. “I have had too many incidents with food and wine at home in Mallorca, and did not want to repeat them here.”

“Hmm.” You were still playing with his hair, the smile on your lips likely as contented as his. “I thought you were going to tell me that this was a go-to move for you, Javi.” He scoffed in mock offense, closing his eyes. “Bringing a woman home, watching some TV, touching her until she -”

“No, this was a first.” He swooped down, kissing you to stop your speech. “And so was coming in my pants like a teenager because you -” You laughed then, lowering your arm to pull him against you by the shoulders, and for a little while, the two of you stayed like that, holding each other as you laughed. This feels… right. Your fingers stroking over his back, you opened your eyes and looked up at the ceiling. We’re a damn mess, but… “I need to get up. I am… sticky.” He kissed the base of your throat and then pushed off of you, looking down as he braced himself with one hand. “I’ll use the bathroom in my bedroom if you want to use the one in the hallway.”

“Yeah.” Nodding once, you took a breath. “Do … you want me to stay? Or get cleaned up and -”

“I was hoping you would stay.” The earnest look was back on his face, Javi’s eyes focused on yours. “Even before this happened.” It took you no time at all to answer with a nod of your head and another smile, teeth biting down against your lower lip to keep you from saying anything stupid. “Use anything in the bathroom that you need.” He glanced down and then back at your face, the hand on your hip moving to tug your skirt back down in the front, giving you a tiny bit of cover. “There’s a robe in there if you’d like to change, and -”

“That’s perfect, Javi.” Nodding twice, you continued. “Thank you.”

He climbed carefully off of you and reached down, adjusting himself, your eyes drawn to the damp spot on the front of his pants. Another smile made its way to your lips but Javi didn’t say anything else, instead turning and striding down the hallway and leaving you alone in the semi-darkness of the living room. You stood, too, skirt falling back down and around your thighs. As you headed for the bathroom, you eyed the couch, looking for any signs of what the two of you had done. With some relief, you noticed nothing, just some wrinkles in the fabric. Good. It probably still needs to be cleaned, but…

Taking your time in the bathroom, you cleaned up - removing your dress and hanging it over the shower curtain rod, followed by removing your underwear and doing the same, tucking the small piece of fabric through one of the shoulder straps to keep it out of sight. But you left your bra on, sliding the soft, thin material of the robe he’d mentioned up and over your shoulders before tying it off at the waist.

It was far too large for you - Javi obviously going for comfort instead of fit when it came to lounging around the house, and the cool material against your still heated skin felt wonderful - as did the fact that you were wearing his clothing.

When you made your way back into the kitchen a few minutes later, Javi was still missing, and so you reached into the refrigerator, pouring yourself a glass of water from the filtered pitcher inside and swallowing half of it in one go. “Can you pour me one?” He’d appeared at the end of the hallway, a pair of pajama pants hanging low on his hips and a tank-top undershirt covering his torso. Fuck, he looks… look at his arms. “I seem to be very thirsty all of a sudden.” Filling your glass back up you handed it over, Javi lifting it to his lips and tilting his head back to swallow all of it in one go.

You stared without shame - taking in the shape of his shoulders and the width of his chest, the way his golden skin seemed to glow against the bright white material of the shirt. His hair was loose, too - the man had obviously dampened and then run his fingers through it, the single curl over his forehead joined by a few others, casually draped over his brow and inviting your fingers to touch them, too. Maybe later. Maybe if … fuck it. You stepped closer, taking the glass from his hand and reaching out to twist one of the curls around a finger while you set it down on the counter with your other hand. He wound an arm around your waist almost immediately, smiling at you without saying anything, and so you opened your mouth, saying the first thing that came to your mind.

‘So… you invited me to LA, Javi?”

—

Tag list coming separately!

#javi g #javi g x reader #javi g x female reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories #not like the movies #javi gutierrez #javi g masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #the unbearable weight of massive talent #tuwomt #tuwomt fic #javi g fic #pedro pasacal character #javi gutierrez: not like the movies #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x female reader

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