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The appointed hour arrives.
Trepidation makes Nathan’s stomach vibrate, but excitement wins out in the end, and he delivers himself to Vincent’s door. There’s no second guessing, not at all. Compared to taking the ice before his short program a few days ago, these nerves are nothing.
Vincent opens the door and nearly knocks Nathan off his feet. He’s wearing a loose t-shirt and basketball shorts, his hair damp from a recent shower. It makes him look soft and vulnerable. Nathan’s stomach somersaults.
He crosses the threshold and shuts the door behind him. The sound reminds him of what Mariah said when he told her he was going to hang out in Vincent’s room.
(“You guys aren’t wasting any time, are you?” she teased with an impish grin.
“Shut up. It’s not like that.”
“Vince has been out of quarantine for like less than a day, which makes the timing a little suspect,” Mariah pointed out. “Forgive me for assuming you two might be eager to be alone.”
Nathan rolled his eyes, cursed his red-hot ears. “Whatever. You’re so nosy.”
“‘Kay. Sure. But hey, grab one of the free condoms just in case.”
Mariah’s giggle echoed even as Nathan walked away, mortified.)
She hadn’t been wrong. They were definitely eager to be alone with each other. But now that the time had come, they found themselves standing there awkwardly, a bashful silence separating them.
“Hey,” Vince starts finally.
Nathan blushes. “Hey.”
They look at each other and laugh in unison. The whole situation is so embarrassing, but exciting at the same time. Neither one is sure whether to make the first move.
Nathan admits as much. “Sorry,” he says. “This is like…I dunno. Different. Not really sure what to do.”
“Have you never been with a guy before?”
The question makes Nathan wince. “I mean, you. But I’ve never, like…” He gestures meaningfully.
Vincent’s eyes widen imperceptibly. This changes things a bit. They’ve mainly been sticking to hand stuff and mouth stuff, but Vincent had no idea Nathan lacked this particular experience. He isn’t used to having the upper hand. It’s strange.
“Okay,” he says. “We’ll take it slow. I’m a little rusty at this anyway.”
He has to suppress a smirk when Nathan blushes hard.
“Let’s make out first,” Vincent offers. “We can start there.”
Nathan exhales, relieved. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
They kiss. Nathan is okay with this. Kissing is cool; kissing is in his comfort zone. Plus, Vincent is surprisingly good at it. He wonders how many guys Vincent has kissed to get this good. Nathan doesn’t like that train of thought, so he shuts it down and focuses on making out with Vincent, which he does like. A lot.
At some point they end up on the bed, with Nathan lying on top of Vincent. He can feel himself getting increasingly turned on, but then Vincent slides his fingers into Nathan’s hair, and all of a sudden his blood rushes south in a big way.
“Your stupid fucking perm,” mutters Vincent, half derisive, half affectionate.
“Hey, don’t insult my hair. I’ll leave.”
Vincent scoffs. “Yeah, right. Good luck walking around with that.”
He rubs his thigh against Nathan’s half-chub and Nathan curses out loud - embarrassingly so. He wants to crawl under the bed and die.
“Okay. Sit up. Side of the bed.” Vincent starts to roll out from under him.
Nathan looks at him, bewildered, but does as he’s told. He sits on the bed’s edge, feet on the floor, and tries not to think about how obvious his boner is right now. It’s difficult. He doesn’t succeed.
Then - oh god, then - Vincent slides onto his knees in front of him, and Nathan’s heart starts pounding so hard he thinks he’ll pass out.
“What are you doing,” he blurts out, sounding entirely more panicked than he wants to.
Vincent gives him a stupefied look. “Um, blowing you?”
“Really?”
“Um, yeah? Wait.” Vincent narrows his eyes. “Are you about to tell me you don’t want me to suck your dick?”
That would be a first, is the implication that dangles at the end, unspoken yet obvious.
“No! I’m just confused.” Nathan throws his hands up. “I thought we were gonna…”
Vincent rolls his eyes theatrically. “You’ve never done this before, and if you don’t get off once first you’re not gonna last. Trust me on this.”
“Wow. Wow.” Nathan balks. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”
“I’m the one with experience in this area. Just shut up and let me do this.”
He hooks his fingers behind the waistband of Nathan’s sweats. Silently, he relishes in the ability to get Nathan flustered - the man to beat, the king of the world, perpetually leaving everyone else in his dust.
This will be fun, he thinks, then starts to pull the sweats down and off.
Nathan’s breathing picks up noticeably. He’s wearing black boxer briefs, like a douchebag. It’s hot, though. Vincent hates it.
Feeling bold, he palms over the bulge in the fabric, and Nathan groans, much to his delight.
“Lift your hips up,” Vincent tells Nathan. Amazingly, he obeys without objection or comment.
Vincent does the same to Nathan’s underwear as he did to his pants. Despite the fact that they’ve done this already, Nathan flushes and flinches under Vincent’s gaze. His boner is on full display, exposed with nowhere to hide. He fidgets and waits for Vincent to say something.
“You okay?” Vincent asks, with genuine concern.
Okay, fuck. He’s too nervous, he’s making it weird. “Yeah, I’m fine,” says Nathan. “Go ahead.”
Vincent eyes him skeptically, but returns to his previous course. His gaze sweeps over Nathan’s dick and he noticeably licks his lips. And that - that gets Nathan’s attention.
Attention that’s abruptly ripped away by the feeling of Vincent wrapping his hand around Nathan’s dick, which makes Nathan have to clench his jaw to keep from making noise. Vincent inspects him briefly before - and this nearly gives Nathan a heart attack - flicking the tip of his tongue against the head.
“Jesus Christ,” Nathan grits out.
“Oh my god, relax,” chides Vincent, exasperated. “Wow, you really do need this.”
Without further ado, Vincent leans in and takes the head into his mouth, and Nathan gasps as if he’s been shot.
Vincent stays there for a few moments, letting his mouth adjust to the stretch, not to mention keeping the stimulation to a minimum so that Nathan doesn’t come literally right away. He will spare Nathan that specific indignity, at least. Patiently, he waits until he feels Nathan’s hand rest on his head - their usual green-light signal. Vincent takes it as his cue to start moving.
As Vincent blows him, Nathan’s perception of the world narrows to only the feeling of Vincent’s mouth on his dick, save for a tiny corner of his mind that’s aware of how Vincent’s hair feels beneath his hand. It’s really soft and still slightly damp from the shower. The adrenaline-induced heightened sensations make everything seem dream-like, yet unmistakably real. Not unlike kissing, Vincent is great at giving head. It’s infuriating. When he’s capable of coherent thought, Nathan once again finds himself chasing away curiosities as to how he developed this particular skill.
For one thing, Vincent knows exactly what to do with his tongue. Most likely because he’s a guy as well, and knows what another guy would like. What’s more is that he knows the value of speed, rhythm and performance. He makes these soft noises at the back of his throat, and at one point, Nathan nearly sees the back of his skull when Vincent pulls his mouth up slowly, with a pronounced, lewd slurp.
It’s not long before Nathan is tapping on Vincent’s shoulder, a warning.
“I’m really close,” he rasps. Vincent doubles down, taking as much as he can.
It’s too much for Nathan to bear. He grunts once, twice, and once more before he comes hard in Vincent’s mouth, his eyes screwing shut so tightly he sees stars.
To Vincent’s credit, he doesn’t gag or choke, just swallows everything Nathan gives him neatly and obediently, like a goddamn professional. He’s pretty proud of himself. Not that he’d ever admit it.
When Nathan is spent, Vincent slides off him quietly and wipes his mouth. Nathan is clearly coming back down to Earth, his chest heaving. Vincent takes the liberty to remove his own shirt while Nathan is too dazed to notice.
Nathan flops gracelessly backward onto the mattress. “I think you sucked my brain out of my dick,” he says, voice shaky.
Vincent scoffs. “You’re such a dweeb.”
He climbs onto the bed and lies down parallel to Nathan, who turns to look at him. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is messy. It’s so cute, and Vincent can’t stand it. He pulls Nathan in for a kiss.
Nathan is still entirely too hazy to protest. Vincent’s lips feel really good right now, so he wouldn’t say no even if he could. He doesn’t even mind the bitter taste that, he’s reminded, came from him.
Oh wow, that’s hot. He kisses back with increasing fervor, and feels his arousal start to return.
Briefly, Vincent’s body presses up against his, and he feels Vincent’s erection poke his thigh. Vincent moans into the kiss at the sudden stimulation. It flips a switch in Nathan’s brain, somewhere deep and primal. He flips them over and presses Vincent into the bed.
“Jesus,” gasps Vincent, breaking the kiss. “Already?”
“What, you’re surprised?”
“Yeah. I mean, no.” Vincent huffs. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Go open the drawer on the nightstand, there’s stuff in there.”
Nathan reaches over and pulls the drawer open. He finds inside it a travel-sized bottle of lube, and - sure enough - one of the free, Beijing 2022-branded condoms from around the athlete’s village.
“No way,” he laughs, holding it up and inspecting it. “Seriously?”
“What, was I supposed to pack them in my suitcase?”
Fair point. “Whatever, I guess not.”
Nathan picks up the lube as well. It’s about two-thirds full. He’s not supposed to care about who Vincent’s been using it with, so he doesn’t. Really, he doesn’t.
Meanwhile, Vincent is shimmying out of his shorts, and Nathan tries not to let his eyes bulge out of his head when he realizes Vincent isn’t wearing underwear underneath them.
Vincent stops. “Wait. You’ve slept with girls though, right?”
“I mean, yeah.” Not to toot his own horn, but Nathan thought that much was obvious.
That sets Vincent more at ease. A total virgin might be a little more than he was equipped to deal with.
He nods. “Okay. It’s a similar procedure, just with more prep.” He nods at the bottle. “Which is where that comes in.”
Ah, yeah. Nathan had seen that in some of his limited forays into watching gay porn. But still, with his relative lack of experience with guys, he feels a little out of his depth.
“So…how do we do this?”
Vincent laughs. “You are gonna prep me with that. That okay?”
He sits up and starts to get on his hands and knees. “Here, we’ll do it like this. It’ll be easier.”
Well, this is progressing quickly. But it’s okay, he can do this. Nathan shuffles back on his knees and, frankly, tries not to freak out at the sight of Vincent naked and exposed before him.
Judging by his silence, Vincent can tell Nathan is at a loss, and out of the goodness of his kind, kind heart, takes pity on him.
“Okay,” he starts. “Put some lube on your fingers and finger me. But take it slow.”
Nathan nods.
“And start with just one at first,” Vincent hastens to add.
Those instructions seem easy enough to follow. Nathan squeezes some lube out onto his fingers and spreads it around, warming it up. Once that’s done, he takes his index finger and positions it at Vincent’s entrance.
This is happening.
“Okay,” he says. “Can I…?”
Vincent nods. “Go ahead.”
Permission granted. Gingerly, Nathan begins to push his finger inside. He and Vincent both gasp. Vincent, because he hasn’t done this in a while. Nathan, because he hasn’t done this period. He can’t hide his amazement at how warm Vincent is, how tight. He gives Vincent a moment to adjust.
“You can move now,” says Vincent, so Nathan does.
He pushes his finger back and forth slowly and hears Vincent’s breathing change, getting deeper and heavier, catching every once in a while.
After a few minutes, Nathan does a temperature check. “You good?”
Vincent nods again. “I think you can add another one.”
Alright. Cool, cool. No big deal. He can do that. Nathan slides his index finger out, adds more lube, and goes back in with two. And this time, Vincent moans.
Oh, fuck.
Nathan’s inexperience and nerves notwithstanding, some things simply feel good, and Nathan’s fingers definitely qualify. Vincent looks over his shoulder.
“Keep going,” he orders. Nathan obeys.
He moves his fingers back and forth, careful and slow. As he goes, he takes note of which depths and positions get positive reactions from Vincent. He twists them around a bit, curves them ever so slightly. Vincent gasps and trembles, releases a sharp moan.
Nathan’s eyes go wide. “Oh, shit. Was that…?”
Vincent nods. “Yup. Yup, that was it. Do it again.”
Nathan moves his fingers, aiming for that same spot. The sound that it pulls out of Vincent is louder, unashamed, and obscene. His hands twist in the covers. Nathan wants to see more.
After a minute or two of that, Nathan adds a third finger, opening Vincent up until he gasps and twitches. Once Vincent starts pushing himself back onto Nathan’s fingers, it’s clear what’s coming next.
“Okay, that’s enough,” croaks Vincent. “I think you should fuck me now.”
Nathan gulps. He was not prepared to hear those exact words come out of Vincent’s mouth.
“Um, okay.” He carefully withdraws his fingers, wiping them on the blanket.
Vincent takes the condom and offers it to Nathan. “Can you handle putting this on yourself, or do you need help?”
“Yes, I can do it myself. Jackass.” Nathan rolls his eyes and tears the wrapper open with his teeth.
While he waits, Vincent grabs a pillow and hugs it, arching his back a little.
“Add more lube,” he reminds Nathan. “However much you think you need, it’s probably not enough.”
Nathan nods. That makes sense. Once the condom is secure, he squeezes more lube into his palm and coats himself with it.
“Everything okay back there?” asks Vincent, casual as anything.
“It’s fine.” Nathan wipes his hand on the blanket again. “Okay, so now I…”
“You were gonna fuck me,” Vincent deadpans.
“Okay, okay. Wow, bossy.”
“Dude, do you want to do this or not? Like, seriously.”
“Yes, I wanna do it.” He takes himself in hand. “Okay, I’m gonna, like…do it now.”
Vincent snorts. “Okay, dude.”
“Shut up, kid.” Nathan rolls his eyes. Vincent scoffs at the name.
He takes a steadying breath as he positions himself at Vincent’s entrance. Then, slowly - cautiously - he begins his first push inside.
A few things dawn on Nathan simultaneously. One, there’s resistance, way more than he’s used to. Even after prepping him for what felt like a long time, Vincent is tight and requires slow movement.
And that’s the other thing. Vincent is tight - tight and hot. It’s almost overwhelming. Nathan is barely halfway inside and he’s already wondering how long he can hold up.
Lastly, Vincent keeps making these noises. Somewhere between a sigh and a moan, kind of. Nathan thinks he’s going to go crazy from how hot it is. He never imagined Vincent could sound like that.
It’s incredible.
After what feels like an hour but couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, Nathan is fully inside, and by this point, their breathing is audibly labored.
“Hold on,” Vincent grits out. “I need a minute.”
Nathan doesn’t need to be told twice. Any sudden movements and he’s afraid he might end up nutting immediately, in which case he’d most likely die of shame. Vincent, on the other hand, wasn’t lying about being out of practice, and keeps taking deep, measured breaths, willing himself to relax.
Vincent feels a hand on his hip, gentle.
“Hey, you okay?” comes Nathan’s voice, a bit breathy.
Vincent nods. “‘M okay. I think you can start moving now.”
Despite his apprehensiveness, Nathan can’t deny that he wants to do that too. He takes hold of Vincent’s other hip and, with all the meticulous gentleness he can muster, rolls his hips once.
Vincent gasps and moans when Nathan bottoms out. He hasn’t done this in so long, he almost forgot how good it could feel, and although Nathan is of solidly average size, it’s definitely enough.
“Okay, yeah. Do that again.”
Nathan nods even though he knows Vincent can’t see it. He repeats the movement, then again, and again, until they’ve both gotten a feel for it. After going through this process a few more times, he begins to set a slow but steady rhythm.
When Vincent starts making those noises again, every time Nathan pushes all the way in, he knows it’s going to be a problem. Vincent sounds so hot, it goes straight to his dick every time. But Nathan is an overachiever, which means that pretty soon, he wants even more.
He experiments a little with the angle of his hips, trying to see if he can find that sweet spot again. He’s not really sure what he’s doing or if he’s being obvious. But then, Vincent isn’t complaining, so he thinks it’s okay.
Then, Nathan shifts his hips just a tiny bit, and Vincent’s whole body jolts. The sound that tumbles out of his mouth is almost embarrassing. It’s a good thing Vincent’s way past feeling shame by this point.
“There,” he half-commands, half-pleads. “Please, shit.”
Oh, god. He can do this. Nathan thrusts again, aiming for the same place. He maintains a slow, careful rhythm.
But Vincent shakes his head. “No. Harder, come on.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to–”
“It’s fine, don’t worry, just fuck me.” Vincent is insisting. Nathan feels like he’s losing his mind.
“Okay,” he says, reassuring Vincent as much as himself, and begins to fuck into him with greater force and speed.
Vincent thought he was ready for this. He knew he was horny, and he had long been cool with the idea of having sex with Nathan. But practice is different from theory. In theory, he figured Nathan would be awkward, lacking skill, a little rough around the edges. But practically, he’s doing everything right, and Vincent is already barely holding on. There’s some tiny, distant corner of his brain that’s absolutely pissed at Nathan for having the nerve to be good at this too.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, comes a voice from that corner. How can this be fair?
But all thoughts of indignance and disbelief are drowned out by searing, deafening pleasure, not to mention the noises coming out of his own mouth. He tries biting down on his lower lip to muffle his voice. It only half works.
Behind him, Nathan is rapidly careening toward his peak at a pace he could not have anticipated. His breathing is labored and shaky, and he feels the familiar coil of heat in his gut.
“Vince,” he says, almost frantic. “Vince, I think I’m close.”
“Jesus,” Vincent grits out. He didn’t want to admit it, but he’s close too. He reaches beneath his body and wraps a hand around himself, beginning to jerk off in time with Nathan’s thrusts.
“Don’t stop,” he commands, but it’s breathy and reedy, a wanton plea. “Please, I’m almost there.”
Nathan curses under his breath and, impulsively, doubles his speed. With that, Vincent is done for. He cries out once, then twice, then one last time before hurtling over the edge, clamping down around Nathan like a vice.
Nathan’s own release is nearly instantaneous, the squeeze of Vincent’s body too much to withstand. A series of ridiculous noises come out of his mouth. He’s too far gone to care.
In the aftermath, they pant and shudder, heaving gasping breaths.
Once he’s regained his presence of mind, as well as the power of speech, Nathan clears his throat. “I’m gonna,” he rasps out, unable to finish the sentence.
Vincent nods and grunts his assent. Nathan pulls out and, on shaky legs, gets off the bed to dispose of the condom.
When he returns to the bed, Vincent is lying spread-eagle on his back, staring at the ceiling with a shell-shocked expression. It almost makes Nathan laugh.
He’s not sure if Vincent’s a cuddler, but with the size of these beds, a little close contact is kind of unavoidable. He climbs on and belly flops on top of Vincent.
“Ow!” cries Vincent. “What the fuck? Get off!”
“Just did.”
“Oh my god,” scoffs Vincent. “You’re insufferable.” He shoves weakly at Nathan’s shoulder. “Come on. Get up.”
“Nope.”
Vincent groans. He doesn’t have the energy to protest further, so he relents. Nathan raises his head to look him in the eye.
“What?” questions Vincent.
Nathan doesn’t say anything. He does, however, kiss Vincent. It’s soft and gentle. Vincent doesn’t like how much he likes it.
“Thanks,” says Nathan when they break the kiss.
“For what?”
“This.” Nathan looks around. “It was nice.”
Vincent pauses. “Yeah,” he concedes. “It was.”
Nathan smiles, an infuriating, shit-eating grin. “Hell yeah, it was.”
“God. I regret this already. Don’t you have some interview to show off your medal at?”
“Nah, I’m done for the day.” Nathan pillows his head on Vincent’s shoulder. “I’ll leave in a few minutes.”
Vincent sighs through his nose. “Yeah,” he says softly. “That’s fine.”
And he means it.