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Adam is starting to feel a little antsy.
It’s been more than a week since the last time he left the apartment in California he shares with his boyfriend, Nigel. This is happening more and more. Nigel keeps insisting he doesn’t need help getting the groceries, and that anything else they need can be ordered online. He doesn’t even take Adam to the bar anymore.
Adam had been so happy when he realized earplugs would help him withstand the noise. He’d walked in there that first time arm in arm with Nigel and wearing a small, deeply pleased smile on his face. He never had to talk to anyone else those nights, instead sitting in Nigel’s office or in a booth tucked away at the back with a makeshift ‘do not disturb’ sign standing on the center of the table.
Nigel seemed to like it that way. On the rare occasions Adam would go to the bar, he’d sit quietly, nursing a single gin and tonic, watching Nigel speak with other people. Those other people never spoke to Adam. They didn’t even glance his way, really.
It hadn’t occurred to him that might be something to be concerned with until very recently. As in, this morning. Because of a conversation with Nigel.
“Hey, don’t worry about the store tonight, darling,” Nigel had said.
“What? Why?.”
Nigel shrugged. “I’ll handle it.”
“But I wanted to go,” Adam responded, voice even and a nervous smile flitting across his face. “There’s a sale on avocados and you never pick the right ones.”
“You wound me, gorgeous. I’m the one that eats them, anyway.”
Adam had taken a deep breath, wrapped his arms around himself. “You’re not giving me a real answer.”
“What real answer? It’s not up for debate.”
“I want to go, and it’s what I was expecting to do tonight. I planned around it.”
“Too fucking bad.”
Then Nigel shrugged, got up from the kitchen table, and walked away. Adam stood there, shocked, but knowing better than to chase him down to keep the discussion going. It’d be wasted effort.
He’s been thinking about their relationship ever since then. He couldn’t get himself to focus on work, logging off at the end of the day with a vague sense of shame for how little he accomplished. Nigel’s voice just kept popping into his head all day long, pulling him right back to rumination and destroying any chance of getting anything done.
The start of their relationship had been so easy, like slipping into bed between clean sheets. Comforting, cozy, and way more natural than anything with Beth ever was.
They’d fallen together so easily.
Nigel had found Adam at the train station one evening a few months back. Adam had been on the edge of a panic attack, unsteady on his feet and repetitively running his hands over the straps of his backpack, uncaring if anyone was watching.
Nigel certainly noticed. He swooped in and seemed to know just what to say. He’d calmed Adam down, helped him get his ticket sorted out, and then asked for his phone number.
Adam accepted, even though he couldn’t bring himself to meet Nigel’s eyes in the moment, too shaken from the travel difficulties.
Things progressed quickly after the first text. Nigel called a few minutes after sending it, and point-blank asked Adam to spend time with him.
Nigel had been quick to talk about sexual arousal, too. He beat Adam to that particular talk by asking about it one night less than a week in.
“Do you want to fuck, gorgeous? You keep staring.” Nigel had chuckled, and reached over to brush a stray curl into place. “I’ve wanted to, you know. Ever since I saw you that very first time.”
Adam didn’t know how to respond other than to answer the question. It was hard to get the words out when he did, cheeks heating as he tried.
“Y-yes. I’m worried about disappointing you, though.”
Nigel had shaken his head, cupped Adam’s jaw and spoke with a tone that made Adam’s skin tingle all over. “You couldn’t, gorgeous.” Then he’d leaned in close, their lips brushing together. “I’ll just have to teach you, won’t I?”
They were like rabbits after that for a while. Adam knew he liked sex but this was a whole new world.
And even though he’s stressed right now, Adam would have to say that all in all, life with Nigel is good. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t burst with love for him, and Adam knows Nigel loves him too.
So why is he home right now?
Why isn’t he picking out avocados or holding Nigel’s hand while they peruse the aisles?
On top of that, he’s done none of what he’d been looking forward all day, because he’s upset about this. Model building was a disaster. His hands kept shaking and he couldn’t trust himself with the blade needed for trimming plastic edges. Defeated, he’d put his tools away and moved to the couch.
And there he waits. Nigel should be home any minute and then it’ll be time to talk.
Adam takes a shaky breath, knitting his fingers together over and over again. All he has to do is tell Nigel how he’s feeling without being accusatory or getting loud. It’s easy. And worth it, right? For love?
Nigel doesn’t mean to get the way he does when they disagree, and Adam believes him when he says that. That doesn’t stop it from hurting when Nigel clams up and stays distant for hours, not even acknowledging Adam until he’s ready to talk. The talking is almost worse, though. Nigel never raises his voice but he says things that hurt, asking questions and making accusations that don’t make any sense.
One night it was “Do you really, in your heart of fucking hearts, love me?”
“I do. It’s hard to put it into words but I do.”
On another night, “Do my feelings about this mean nothing to you?”
“Of course they do, but I don’t understand why they mean I have to quit my job!”
On a more recent occasion, “Don’t you trust me?”
“Yes, but the idea of being choked is scary. What if you do it wrong?”
That had been the incorrect thing to say.
The way Nigel’s face had darkened sits as a permanent fixture in Adam’s mind. Never has Adam been so sensitive to the idea of upsetting another person until now, and in the end he’d given in. Just like he always does.
But then he’d come so hard with Nigel’s hand wrapped around his throat that his vision had gone black, and his legs fell open as he moaned his way through his orgasm, pulse after pulse of his release smearing between their bodies.
He had to admit Nigel was right, after that. It was fine, safe, and it felt amazing. Nigel had given him a deep kiss and said “Told you so, spaceman. Just do what I suggest. Don’t I always know what’s best for you?”
Privately, Adam felt stupid for doubting him at all in the first place.
But now the doubt is working inside him again, even though Nigel probably has a reason he won’t let him go to the grocery store anymore. All Adam wants is to talk about it. He wants to hear Nigel’s reasons, whatever those reasons may be.
The front door unlatches and Adam jumps in his skin.
“Hey, baby,” Nigel calls, moments later. He appears around the corner with bag-laden arms. It doesn’t look like it took anything out of him to walk up four flights of stairs with all of it, either.
Adam stares for a moment, then realizes himself. “Do you want help?”
They put the groceries away in silence. Nigel doesn’t seem upset, but Adam can’t seem to get words to leave his throat. It’s always so hard to predict how this sort of thing will go, and the last thing Adam wants is to get shut out, or for Nigel to start saying all those upsetting things again.
But this discussion is unavoidable. Adam knows he’s a homebody but it’s starting to feel like he’s on house arrest.
Nigel has just sat down in his armchair with a can of beer when Adam steels himself and pipes up.
“We need to talk.”
No response. Adam’s stomach jumps, but he’s not going to back down now that he’s started.
“I don’t want to make you upset, and I’m not angry at you, but I want to know why you wouldn’t let me come with you tonight.”
“What’s there to talk about?” Nigel asks, opening his drink. It pops and hisses, and Adam winces. “We already had this discussion.”
Adam shakes his head. There’s no point in arguing about that. Just get the main idea out and be done with it. “I wanted to go tonight because I wanted to spend time with you.”
“That’s sweet, my love. Truly it is. But we’re spending time together now, aren’t we? Isn’t that good enough?”
Adam sighs, gaze flitting to the television now showing some kind of wrestling match. “No, it’s not.”
The television goes right back off.
“Pardon me, darling. Maybe I heard incorrectly, but did you say it’s not good enough?”
“That is what I said, yes.”
Nigel sets his beer to the side and turns, leans toward Adam with his head tilted. His mouth is drawn in a thin line, and Adam grips the arm of the couch unconsciously.
“Then tell me why, if it’s such a big fucking deal.”
Well, Nigel asked. Adam lets the words pour out.
“Because I like spending time with you outside. I like looking at things, and picking the produce because you’re bad at it.” Adam pauses, glancing up at Nigel’s face not because he’s angry —he’s not— but because he desperately wants to read the expression there. They’ve been together nonstop for months and reading Nigel is easier than it has ever been with anyone else, but it’s harder in moments like these, when Adam’s heart is racing and Nigel’s reaction could tip towards understanding or into cold rage.
Nigel goes silent, and Adam takes a deep breath in through the nose, and releases it slowly out through the mouth in an attempt to keep his emotions in check. They’re vibrating just under his skin, his chest tightening with each passing second.
He feels pinned under a microscope as he waits for Nigel to say something, an awful flaying sensation that immediately sets the doubt flaring up inside him again. This was stupid, so stupid. He shouldn’t have ever said anything. Nigel is mad at him and tonight is going to be miserable and—
“That’s sweet, darling. It is,” Nigel murmurs. “But did you ever think that I might have a good reason? That there might be something I need to keep you safe from?”
“Like what?”
The question bursts out of Adam like a gunshot, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.
Nigel grins. It’s not good-natured. He rises slowly out of his chair and stretches his arms above his head, tank top lifting. Adam watches the muscles ripple under his skin. He’s so strong, so much stronger than Adam. Something flips in Adam’s stomach, something that’s neither fear nor anger, and his heart pounds against his rib cage.
“You know what I am, gorgeous. We had that talk very early on.”
Oh. Adam’s face goes hot.
“Y-yes. I know you’re involved in some things, and that there are people who don’t like you because of it—“
“Exactly. So when I’m feeling nervous, nervous for your safety, what am I supposed to do? Go to the cops?”
“You could have just told me, Nigel. I would have understood. Why wouldn’t you say anything? Why are you suddenly treating me like other people do and not telling me things?”
Nigel snarls and the sight of it eclipses Adam’s fear.
“Forgive me, darling, for not being fucking perfect. I worry about you constantly, you know that? All day, every fucking day.”
This is rapidly spiraling out of control. At a loss, horrified at himself for upsetting Nigel so badly, Adam slips off the couch and drops to his knees.
“I’m sorry,” he says, hands drifting up Nigel’s thighs. “You are perfect for me. It’s just upsetting, you know? I’m only sad because I miss doing those things with you.”
He bites his lip and looks upward, almost lightheaded with his need to get Nigel calm again and not quite knowing how to. His hands curl into the fabric of Nigel’s sweatpants, a wordless plea to be believed.
Nigel just stares at him, warm brown eyes somehow cold. Adam looks away, unable to bear the weight of Nigel’s gaze any longer. Then he feels a hand around his wrist, and he’s being gently shoved away. He looks back up, hurt and confused, until he sees what Nigel is doing. His mouth falls open, saliva collecting behind his teeth, lust blooming anew in the core of him.
Nigel has pulled himself out of his pants and he’s slowly pulling at his half-hard cock. Adam reaches up, fingers curling around the waistband of Nigel’s pants.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I understand now.”
“Do you, though?” Nigel asks through gritted teeth. He leans down, runs his fingers through Adam’s hair and grips near the root hard enough to make Adam hiss in pain.
He’s not scared, though. Nigel does this a lot in the bedroom.
Hope floods Adam’s heart and washes away most of the anxiety that had been building inside him all day long. Nigel does this to him. Excites him like nothing else, and the promise of pleasure and an escape from deeper thought hooks into his skin and it’s so much easier to just let himself be pulled under.
Adam can feel himself growing hard, hips rolling on their own.
“Please, let me show you. Let me make you feel good,” he pleads. He leans up with his tongue sticking out, fighting through the pain in his scalp to try and lick along the head of Nigel’s cock.
“Seems like I might just be giving you what you want if I let you do that right now, gorgeous. I’m pretty upset with you.”
His grip loosens and it gives Adam the opportunity to reach the rest of the way forward, the tip of his tongue tracing over the slit. He grabs the shaft too, feels it hot and hard within his grasp and sinks momentarily into the sheer sensory symphony of it all. Nigel’s skin is warm, his scent familiar and clean, but distinctly him. Adam opens his mouth and takes the head inside, stroking once with a loose grip.
Nigel stands there and allows it to happen for a little while, biting his lip and eyelids fluttering shut when Adam pulls the foreskin back and sucks on the head, tongue flicking rapidly on the underside. This is Adam’s preferred method. It’s easier, and feels good on his lips.
He can deep-throat, of course.
It had been less than a month from the first time they kissed to the first time Adam successfully took Nigel all the way into his throat, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes and jaw aching.
It’s still a little difficult, though.
Adam is humming to himself, content and rapidly sinking into the rhythm of it when Nigel’s hand moves to the back of his head, fingers once more tightening in dark curls.
“Not quite so fast, my love. My little bird,” Nigel’s voice is soft, warm, but his grip is like iron. It really hurts, now, and Adam freezes. “It might be that I’d like that a lot, but you really need to learn to listen to what I tell you.”
“I just—“
“No, don’t speak right now.”
Adam doesn’t speak. His heart is rabbiting away in his chest, and his knees ache as he tries to raise so Nigel isn’t pulling his hair quite as hard.
“Open your mouth very wide.”
Adam’s jaw creaks as he does as he is told.
“Perfect. Now, don’t scream, and don’t talk back.”
He releases Adam’s hair, and Adam doesn’t have time to relish the relief of that before Nigel is shoving his way inside. It is only through sheer practice that Adam is able to accept it without gagging too loudly, but his eyes sting with sudden tears. Nigel leans forward, spine curling as he wraps his forearms around Adam’s head, grinding himself in and out with no real speed but definite force.
Adam tries to breathe through his nose, hands flying to Nigel’s ass to try and steady himself. His lips quickly grow sore, bruising a little more with each shallow thrust Nigel makes into his face.
Just when Adam is starting to feel woozy, Nigel pulls away. A string of saliva connects the tip of his cock with Adam’s lip, and Adam scrambles to wipe it away, sucking in harsh breaths at the same time.
Nigel gives him only a moment to recover before stepping forward again, slapping his cock against Adam’s red cheek. Adam burns on the inside with it, feeling both used and useful. He catches Nigel’s cock in his mouth, and is at least a bit better prepared when his throat is immediately invaded again, forcing a mortifying choked noise out of him.
“Don’t you ever fucking doubt how much I love you,” Nigel grits out. “Or maybe it’s that you’re starting to want out, huh? Is that it?”
The urge to deny that overwhelms him, Nigel’s words drilling panic into his brain right through the fog of pride and lust. He strains against Nigel’s hands, fighting to pull away. His jaw aches all the while, tears and saliva smearing all over his face as Nigel starts to fuck his throat properly.
“That’d explain all the fucking — oh, fucking Christ — questions.”
He thrusts in a few more times before pulling out and giving Adam just enough time for one sharp breath. But when he slides back inside, he stays shallowly inside Adam’s mouth, pressing against his tongue and stroking himself like he’s about to come.
Adam takes the opportunity to pull away, desperate to deny the accusation.
“No! It’s nothing like that,” he insists, forcing himself to meet Nigel’s gaze. His brow furrows and he says the only thing he can think of, the core truth of the matter. “I love you.”
“Do you?” Nigel asks, kneeling down so they’re nearly face to face. “Do you really?”
“Why would I lie?” Adam asks, wiping his face to get rid of all the fluids even as tears continue running down his cheeks.
Nigel hums, then stands up again. Adam is just about to ask what he’s doing when he’s being thrown over Nigel’s shoulder. Adam yelps, grasping onto his white tank top in panic.
Nigel is squeezing him so hard, a constricting pressure that makes his sides ache, makes it hard to breathe. He’s starting to feel a little light headed again when Nigel lets him down onto the floor on his elbows and knees and gives his ass a harsh slap.
“Fucking little prince, that’s what you are.” Nigel says as he walks to their dresser, pulling out the blue and white glass dildo Adam favors and a bottle of lubricant.
What does that mean? Adam frowns and turns, opening his mouth to protest but Nigel stops in his tracks.
“Don’t fucking move. Stay in that position with your head down.”
In the back of Adam’s head, a question.
Or else what?
He doesn’t ask it. Doesn’t allow himself to entertain it, even as Nigel is roughly stripping him of all his clothing and then kneeling down behind him, pushing his thighs apart.
Adam hisses when cold lubricant is poured directly onto his exposed hole, hands clenching into fists and leaning automatically away from it. There’s nowhere to go, though. Nigel holds him in place with one hand and immediately presses the tip of the dildo to the furled skin of Adam’s entrance before shoving it inside.
It’s cold, hard and unforgiving. Adam usually likes it because of those exact qualities, but he’s not relaxed right now and Nigel is pressing it harshly into his body, tugging it back out again a hair too fast. It drags against his rim and his cock aches, jumping between his thighs. Nigel’s hand moves to his balls, cups them and presses them up against his body.
Adam lets out a pathetic whimper, world suddenly shrunken down to what’s happening between his legs.
“You’re lucky you’re so fucking important to me, starlight,” Nigel says, grinding the toy down and rubbing it almost cruelly against Adam’s prostate. Pleasure like lightning shoots up his spine, and a scream breaks loose from his chest.
“Don’t you see how much you mean? What I do to keep you safe?” He emphasizes the question by tugging Adam’s balls. He’s gentle, but it still makes Adam writhe, still sends a shot of fear into the mix.
Not for the first time, he realizes how badly Nigel could hurt him, if he wanted to. How easily. Adam’s skin already hosts a myriad of bruises, all from Nigel. They paint him all over, from his ass to his thighs to his neck.
Adam’s cock throbs with the thought. He likes pressing them sometimes.
“Please,” he asks, shoulders quaking.
“Please what?”
“Please do whatever you need to feel better, Nigel. I love you so much, let me prove it,” Adam pleads, voice tiny. He feels more exposed than he ever has, small and helpless. “You can hurt me if you want.”
The growling sound Nigel lets out makes the hair on the back of Adam’s neck stand up.
“You got it, gorgeous.”
Nigel lets go of Adam’s balls and reaches beneath him, grabbing around the base of Adam’s cock and shoving the dildo back in at the same time. He fucks it in and out, aimed down with flawless precision and making Adam’s back bend in a harsh arch.
His mouth falls open and his hands reach for nothing, fingers flexing into fists over and over again. It feels so good, even as he knows he’ll be sore from it tomorrow, but in the moment it’s sending intoxicating tendrils of fire between his hips.
Hazily, he wonders why Nigel is letting him feel this good when he’s just asked to be hurt, but he doesn’t question it. He just keeps riding wave after wave of pleasure, too wrapped up in how good it feels to care.
Just as the pleasure is about to reach a fever pitch, Nigel lets go of him and pulls the toy away, tossing it to the side. It clatters on the floor and rolls under the bed.
Then, without warning, Nigel is crouching behind him, grabbing a painful handful of Adam’s ass and shoving inside.
His cock is big, so thick that Adam can barely close his fingers around it, so the stretch is significant. It burns, too. Nigel hasn’t refreshed the lube and what he did before is starting to go tacky. Adam cries out, voice pitching high at the end as Nigel fucks him loose.
“Fuck, yes,” Nigel snarls. “God, this little ass will be the death of me.”
He arches forward, wraps his hands around Adam’s skinny neck. Then he pulls. Adam chokes a little, rising up off the floor with his arms flailing, one grasping onto the duvet and pulling so hard the tendons in his wrist strain with it.
He can’t get enough air, and Nigel isn’t being gentle in the slightest. He pounds into Adam’s hole, vulgar sounds of skin smacking against skin filling the air.
Then he’s squeezing harder, making Adam’s face go red and his thoughts go hazy. Moments pass and the world grows gray as Adam spirals into some strange place where terror for his life and desperate need knot inseparably together.
Just as he’s about to fade out entirely, Nigel lets him go.
The breath Adam sucks in might be the sweetest he’s ever tasted. He falls forward, catching himself ungracefully with his head on his forearms. Nigel slaps his ass again, but Adam barely notices aside from how it makes his cock throb and leak precome onto the floor.
“Take it, you little fucking slut.” Nigel says, voice rough. He’s grinding in and out of the loosened and puffy hole, cock dragging against Adam’s most sensitive places.
Then he’s repositioning, shoving Adam’s face against the floor, and pounding down into him as hard as he ever has. Adam presses his ass back, eyes half open and thighs trembling violently.
“Don’t ever fucking doubt my love for you,” Nigel hisses.
That’s not what Adam was doing, and he’d want to say so if he was capable of thinking about things like that right now. Physical sensation is the only thing he cares about right now. The hard ground against his cheek, the press of a big hand on his head, and the way the cock he loves so much stretches him wide.
It’s so much easier to just… lean into it all.
He’s rapidly approaching the white-hot edge of orgasm when Nigel suddenly stops, gripping Adam’s hips and going still. Adam whines pathetically, reaches between his legs to bring himself off, but Nigel bats his hand away.
“Absolutely not.” He pauses, and the room feels suddenly very silent, the only sounds that of their heavy breaths, the unconscious tap of Adam’s nervous fingers on the floor.
After a moment, Adam can’t wait any longer. He peers over his shoulder at his boyfriend in frustration.
Nigel is staring downward, and then Adam feels the press of Nigel’s thumb against the stretched rim of his ass. Adam doesn’t realize what’s going to happen until it has already started.
He lets out a broken half scream as Nigel starts pressing his thumb into Adam’s asshole alongside his cock.
The stretch is unnatural, the most intense Adam has ever experienced in his life. His jaw snaps shut and when Nigel starts moving again it punches the air from his lungs.
It hurts, a constant burning sensation and for a horrible moment Adam fears he won’t get past it, that it’s too much and Nigel is really going to hurt him this time. Luckily, mercifully, a few moments later Nigel pulls his thumb out and then pulls away entirely.
He grabs Adam and flips him onto his back, settling between his legs once more and shoving into his open hole in one smooth motion that makes an obscene squelching sound.
Adam gasps, clinging with the last dregs of his strength, blunt nails dragging down Nigel’s back and leaving red trails in their wake.
Then strong arms go around his shoulders, and Nigel fucks in, grunting and cursing as his own pleasure builds.
This is raw, honest pleasure that Adam sinks into with no difficulty, engulfed and beyond thankful by the way Nigel’s stomach rubs against his cock, for the kisses and bites the older man lays against his neck.
After that it doesn’t take long at all. Nigel snaps his hips upward a few more times and Adam comes. The world and his worries melt around him and the only thing that matters is the wall of sensation pulsing between his leg as he spills between them. He mouths at Nigel’s neck and collarbone, tears of pleasure collecting in the corners of his eyes even as his throat begins to ache.
Nigel groans out loud as Adam’s hole contracts around him. He reaches down and palms Adam’s ass, pulling it into his thrusts until he’s coming and fucking all the way through it, hard enough to hurt again.
That’s alright, though.
The only thing Adam really feels is relief at the sight of Nigel’s eyes closed, his mouth open and cheeks red. It means they’re both feeling good, and so maybe things might be better between them now.
They might even be able to salvage the rest of the night. Adam might be a little delirious. The power of his own orgasm has left him lightheaded, floating on fluffy clouds. He stays that way for the few seconds until Nigel collapses on him.
They lay there in a pile like that until Adam can’t take it any more. He pats weakly at Nigel’s shoulder.
“It’s too sticky, please,” he says.
Nigel grumbles a “Hold on,” and then he’s pulling away, teeth baring as his soft cock falls out of Adam’s asshole. He leans back, hair in complete disarray and a red blush spread under his chest hair and down his stomach.
Beautiful.
“Let’s get you off the floor,” he says. Then he stands and picks Adam up, lays him gently out on the bed. “I’ll go get a washcloth for the worst of it.”
Adam watches him go, eyebrows knitting together. He’s coming down a bit, afterglow fading, but he still feels better than he did before.
And stupid. In the back of his head he does. He really should have trusted Nigel had a reason for keeping him at home. Adam’s knees, shoulders, hips, hole, and throat are all beginning to ache. He’d taken Nigel’s thumb inside him at the same time he was being filled with his cock.
That part makes him uncomfortable to think about. It was really intense, and really sudden. Adam swallows, casts his gaze at the ground.
It wouldn’t have had to happen if he’d just let the grocery thing go.
Nigel returns a few minutes later, a damp red cloth in hand. He wipes Adam’s face clean first, gentle soothing touches. Adam closes his eyes and leans into it. It seems like Nigel might be feeling better now.
“Turn on your side for me,” Nigel asks.
Adam complies, curling his hands together under his chin. He bites his lip when he feels Nigel’s fingers separating his cheeks, holding them that way for a moment. It’s not clear what he’s looking at, but he seems satisfied.
He wipes the area clean, and then tosses the wash cloth into the laundry hamper.
It occurs to Adam that Nigel hasn’t said anything yet. A sliver of fear up his spine at the realization.
“I’m sorry for bringing up the thing that made you unhappy,” he says, totally earnest. He means it. He hopes Nigel can believe it.
“The thing that made you unhappy,” Nigel murmurs. Adam frowns in confusion, worry rapidly growing inside him, but Nigel nods. “Alright, gorgeous. If you say so.”
“I do.”
“What are we going to do about this going forward?” Nigel turns and pokes Adam’s chest.
That’s a difficult question.
“What would make you happy?” Adam asks.
“How about I handle the food from now on. All that sort of shit.” Nigel stands up and takes Adam by the hand. After a moment, Adam realizes what’s being asked of him and he stands on shaky legs.
“You won’t have to worry about the crowds or the noise. Be honest, spaceman.”
Nigel starts walking Adam to the bathroom, and Adam hangs on every word.
“It always takes you like three fuckin’ hours to wind down from that shit. Even if there weren’t enemies to be wary of, it’d be in your best interest to stay home.”
What Nigel is saying is true. Adam does need a lot of time to recover after going outside. But he doesn’t like the way Nigel is talking about it.
“Stay home?”
“You could go out every once in a while,” Nigel allows. “With me.”
“Oh.”
No, Adam doesn’t like the sound of that at all. He glances at Nigel and sees a gentle smile. Soft golden eyes, crinkled at the corners. Warmth blooms in Adam’s chest, and his heart makes the decision.
“Okay.”
“I knew you’d see it my way, darling. Let’s get you properly clean, now.”
Nigel is gentle with Adam in the shower. They emerge squeaky clean and happy. Nigel nuzzles Adam close when they’re dry, lavishing words of praise and apologizing for being so rough when they were fucking.
Adam accepts the apology easily, and they spend the rest of the night watching a series of documentaries about historical gangsters that Nigel picked out.
The “every once in a while” that Nigel referred to turns out to be “very rarely.” He restricts Adam to twice-a-month excursions. Adam looks forward to each one, and takes longer to recover after them, having fallen out of practice being around other people.
He doesn’t complain though, or try to leave.
Why would he? He’s got everything he needs right here in the apartment.