Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Well, of all the classy bars in New York City on a Friday night, you just had to stroll in here, didn’t you, gorgeous?”

Oh, great. Nigel. Of course.

It was an alright bar; Nolan had barely made note of it when he was essentially dragged here to prove he was going to try and “relax for once,” totally disingenuous on his part and mainly yet another attempt to make other people feel better.

In this case, Sam and a few of the other lawyers in their friend- acquaintance group. They were Concerned, and Nolan didn’t want to feed that fire. He might feel sorry for himself or squeamish over his obviousness about being struck down all too easily by the latest rough, disillusioning case.

This was better. A dim club with a nice ambience, eclectic seating that ranged from Nolan’s choice of a good old-fashioned barstool to some restaurant style-booths and tables. In the middle of the room were a few large blue velvet cushions and a matching couch. A little something for every mood and social situation, Nolan mused absent-mindedly.

The music was the unobtrusive, mysterious sort: ambient chill-out tracks, plus some sensuous trip-hop in various other languages, from French to one he now suspected to be Romanian.

He was still playing with the glass of whiskey in front of him to avoid the inevitable confrontation with the man who owned the familiar voice and had slinked up behind him. Called him “gorgeous.” Which only one person had ever done.

Nolan felt everything inside him squeeze at the sound of that voice, that silken, cigarette-worn, husky tone. The effortless confidence exuding from the mysterious, dangerous Romanian. A gangster, a law-breaker. A violent man who took what he wanted, selfishly, following his passions to the edge of decency whenever he damn well felt like it.

Nigel was everything Nolan fought against on a daily basis, he was nothing Nolan understood or related to, he was an enigma, a source of annoying guilt in his already exhausted conscience. And he was absolutely barking up the wrong tree.

Having recognized the pretty accent on that wicked, deep voice immediately, Nolan didn’t bother turning around. He tensed, though, just a little. More accurately, he double-tensed (he was already nervous and stiff before this happened, and this was the last thing he needed).

“Just my luck,” Nolan sighed, “You would be here. I guess I’d be crazy to suggest perhaps you could leave me alone, and both of us could act as if we hadn’t run into each other?”

“Luck’s a funny thing, darling,” Nigel replied, standing next to Nolan at the bar. He rested his elbow on the counter and gestured to the bartender. Two fingers up, a silent order, and the guy just nodded like Nigel was in charge.

Wait a minute.

“Please tell me you don’t own this place.” Nolan shut his eyes and prayed for mercy.

But it wasn’t that kind of night.

“Alright, I don’t own this place. Is that making you feel better, Counselor? Heard that now you’re Executive Assistant –”

“So, you do own it. Hey, I don’t need a free drink, or to catch up on our lives over the last few years since our one ill-advised encounter. Okay?”

“Are we calling it one now?” Nigel clucked his tongue. “You’re into all kinds of bold-faced lies tonight. Now, why is that? Hiding from reality, if it comes in my guise? I just simply saw you sitting here looking like someone just kicked you in the fucking stomach and felt this funny little, I don’t know exactly. Nostalgia?”

“I don’t feel nostalgic about our fling,” Nolan whispered, bitterness flicking the hushed tone like a lighter sparking. “Far from it.”

“So, you fucked a bad boy a few times, got fucked by the bad boy, too. For once, you got properly laid and taken out of your own big, important mind for a little while.” Nigel’s lips curled into an obnoxious, yet weirdly charming smile. “Now…why do I think that you haven’t been fucked that way since?”

“Hmm, probably something to do with the fact that it was a mistake, and I’ve regretted it ever since. I never should have allowed my…soft spot for you to lead me to go easy on you in court.” Nolan still spoke quietly, but it hardly mattered.

Everyone else was chatting to other people or dancing in a pleasantly lazy style.

The scandalous secret of Nolan’s defense attorney days was safe, unless Nigel chose to tell, but who’d listen to a petty criminal with a tattoo of a pin-up girl on his neck and perpetually scabbed knuckles from the latest brawl?

If Nolan wanted to say it never happened, well then, it never did. Was that what he wanted?

Those hands, which had so recently pummeled some poor soul to the ground and into it for whatever offense they’d supposedly committed, those hands. Big, tanned, covered in veins, hands that practically shouted of charismatic, rough-hewn vigor.

Nigel’s hands made Nolan’s mouth water as temptation brewed. And he knew he had to get out of there before his libido led him any further down this particular well-trodden, best-forgotten path of thorns and fire.

Then Nigel gave him a winning smile, that irresistible charisma just rolling off his whole aura. Also effortless. It came out of his pores, filled the air in the room, and slipped out over his tongue with every poisonous, seductive word he said.

Nigel hadn’t changed, unless it was to get handsomer and more comfortable in his own skin. He exuded an animal grace, a larger than life sense of good cheer, under which lay vicious cruelty which could be ignited at any given moment.

The man couldn’t care less for common morality and dignity, so it was unaccountable to Nolan how it was that Nigel, even with the tattoo and the smoking habit, the criminal lifestyle and classless lack of ethics, was so damn elegant.

The older man wore all black, and his clothes fit him much too snugly for Nolan’s comfort. His hair fell messily wherever it pleased, framing his remarkably unique, sculpted face, those high cheekbones and deep amber-brown eyes, and all that ego, all that predatory energy. At the moment, it was all focused right on Nolan, once again to Nolan’s bafflement. He couldn’t quite make it to mortification or disgust, though.

Enough of that.

This time, Nolan wouldn’t blush and stammer out objections to the kind of direct, erotic flirtation he wasn’t used to (and hadn’t experienced since). He wouldn’t let himself get caught in Nigel’s web instead of catching Nigel.

After all, he was on the other side of the law now, the right side. Being around Nigel was even more impossible at this point in his life.

This time, Nolan would keep his composure and be a grown-up around the fifty-something man-child currently hovering around him like a bee who found an enormous sunflower in the middle of the street.

Nigel was a splash of color on the previously gray misery of Nolan’s inconsolably disappointed, worn-out, and otherwise ill-disposed mood.

“Full of regrets? What a shame.” Nigel took the two shots of chilled vodka he’d ordered from the bar and slid one to Nolan.

Nolan sat there in his slightly rumpled court suit, his hair still slicked back, his sleeves rolled to his forearms, the untouched glass of whiskey rocks beside him nothing but an attempt to have a reason to be here.

Sure, Sam and a few of his other co-workers had talked him into drinks after the case, but they all wanted to move on, socialize and cheer up, and he’d distanced himself from the warmth of their welcoming circle soon after arriving.

One drink, he figured, then he could say he came out with them, make a polite, half-heard excuse and slip out into the shadows of a thankless, rainy night.

After all, he was always “so serious,” “A workaholic,” “married to his job,” “takes too much guilt and responsibility on himself,” and such. He had a reputation to uphold.

“I don’t do shots,” Nolan said sternly.

He watched Nigel’s luscious lips wrap around the rim of the glass with a jolt of jealousy and a few potent memories of their time together in the past. The criminal downed the vodka like it was water and grinned.

“Do you ever have fun anymore, since my departure from the severe moral high ground of your ever-so-important life, gorgeous?” Nigel laughed. “I bet not. I think I’m right. You know, when I met you, I thought to myself…”

“What?” Nolan sighed, curiosity getting the best of him against all his best efforts.

He caught himself feeling 1.5% better, but he only resented Nigel more for that. Obviously.

“I thought, look at that beautiful boy all dressed up in his perfect suit. There’s one present I’d love to unwrap.”

“Please.” Nolan rolled his eyes.

“Back then, I don’t think anyone had ever made you aware that you’re sexy. Very, very….oh, very sexy, Nolan Price. Hottest piece of ass–”

“Stop it,” Nolan grumbled, refusing to blush. Why wasn’t he offended, dammit?

Nigel’s scent floated around Nolan, as if to intoxicate a hapless victim. Nolan wasn’t that anymore, even if the cologne was swoon-worthy, that perfect blend of woodsy and citrusy, mixed with vodka and just a tiny hint of perspiration.

Dammit…Nolan never saw anyone with this kind of sexual power, and for a moment he almost didn’t fault his younger self for giving in so easily. But he had to. He had to blame his younger self and remember he was older and wiser now.

“Did I show you that you were sexy, darling, in sufficient detail during those heady days of our ill-fated affair?” Nigel smirked, as if pleased that his words had momentarily silenced Nolan, who had watched him analytically, letting his eyes linger for a few beats longer this time.

“I don’t think that’s the sort of thing you learn from someone else. You probably just sort of know that you’re sexy, or you don’t, because you probably aren’t sexy.” He sighed and gave Nigel another good gaze for old times sake, objectifying him for a quick flash of pleasure. He wasn’t allowed to hold onto it.

“I’ve never been. Sexy. I’m a nerd.” Nolan tugged his own tie lightly to accentuate his point. “I argue cases, I sleep three hours, I prepare for the next case…”

“Today wasn’t a nice case, was it?” Nigel sank into the stool beside Nolan’s.

Across the bar, Sam caught Nolan’s eye and nodded at Nigel like “who’s that?” Then she grinned a “Go for it, go on now” grin. Oh, if only.

“No, it was not. It was another in a recent string of upsetting cases, where wins feel like crushing defeats.”

Par for the course. Wasn’t this what Nolan had signed up for? He wanted to rise through the ranks and now he was there, at the D.A.’s office, making a difference every day.

Why should it matter if the differences he made caused him to lie awake at night replaying his judgment calls and trying to figure out if they were right or wrong? Or what right and wrong even were, exactly? How to tell them apart…

“I’m sorry to hear about all these depressing victories, darling. Why’s your cute little co-lawyer in a good mood, then? Aren’t you on the same fucking team?” Nigel laughed in genuine confusion.

“Her therapist told her to try to disconnect from work when the day is done. And she said it’s helped her a lot. Takes another type of work, though, not the kind I’m good at. To throw yourself into a social situation and just turn your extrovert side on until you’re taken out of your own self-doubt and sort of blossom into your…non-work self. Do I even have one of those? I doubt it.” Nolan chuckled.

“We all have our coping techniques, baby, after a not-so-nice day knocks the fucking wind out of us. Ever think you need something or someone else not-very-nice to take the edge off afterwards?” He tapped on the bar with his thick, long fingers, rather offensively, but effectively, proving his suggested point.

“Are you offering your services?” Nolan smirked, tearing his eyes from Nigel’s hands for at least the third time in ten minutes. “What is it with you? What could you possibly see in me or want from me, is there some favor you’re looking for? Forget it, I won’t do that a second time.”

“I’m an established man about town, gorgeous. As you can clearly see, I’m doing quite well for myself here, on top of my other…business interests. And I don’t need any favors from you. I don’t even need you if I want to fuck. Now, do I? Bet I could even land your pretty little co-lawyer if I wanted. Or anyone else in the–”

“Leave Sam alone,” Nolan said, using self-righteousness to hide his envy of any such tryst.

He wasn’t jealous, exactly, just didn’t care to see someone else get what he’d been offered as the first choice. And that was a night with Nigel.

“Oh, you didn’t like that idea one fucking bit, did you, darling?” Nigel raised his eyebrows.

A look of realization came across his face that made Nolan – for the first time – question if Nigel really had only used him to evade criminal charges. “I’m not asking for favors again, like I said. Just do me again, that’s all.”

“Why?” Nolan meant to convey, “why should I?” and hoped Nigel didn’t see the “why me?” glimmer in his eyes.

“Because whether you see it in yourself or not, everyone else can, and they’re probably too intimidated by your brilliant mind and the fact that you’re handsomer than a fucking movie star. Too nervous to come up and make a good pass at you and see if Mr. Movie Star Lawyer needs his back blown out. I’m not intimidated or nervous, and I’m here. You also know I’m good. I need it, you need it.” He shrugged. “Where’s the harm in that?”

“You’re on the rebound, aren’t you,” Nolan guessed. “Trying to get yourself a palate cleanser, huh?”

“Does it really fucking matter? Aren’t you interested in rubbing the slate clean of this rotten day and all the ways in which I’m quite sure you’re blaming yourself despite working your pretty, plump little ass off and doing better than anyone else could do it?”

So, it wasn’t only Sam who got called “pretty little,” and it wasn’t anyone else among many attractive prospects in the bar who was getting Nigel’s persistent come-ons, way past the point where anyone less egotistical would be embarrassed.

That was the thing about Nigel, as he’d indicated, and as Nolan remembered. Something to admire. Nigel didn’t get embarrassed. Plus…he didn’t give up easily. Now that was something they had in common. Maybe everything about the man wasn’t incomprehensible, after all.

But that didn’t really ‘fucking matter’ either. Nolan just needed a strong distraction, badly.

Nolan’s eyes flicked up and down Nigel’s face. The lawyer gave one nod, then downed the vodka. He’ll do. “Your place. Not mine.”

***
Nigel got the surprise of his life when he brought Nolan out of the elevator that led to his apartment on the third floor of what he considered a pretty fucking nice building, all things considered. He wasn’t expecting Nolan to be impressed, but he’d come a long way since the first time they’d known each other.

He also wasn’t expecting Nolan to grab him so hard he dropped his fucking keys, then slam him into the door of his apartment, pinning his wrists next to his head with a harsh gleam of authority in his gaze.

“If we do this, we do it my way,” Nolan growled.

For a fleeting moment, fear skated up and down Nigel’s spine, deliciously.

“Fuck,” Nigel laughed, wriggling a bit to test the other man’s hold on him. “You’ve been working out, haven’t you, darling?”

One look at Nolan’s handsome face made the smile fade from his face again. The lawyer wasn’t fucking around. His jaw was tense and his eyes were like icy daggers, restless, hungry energy pulsating through him, heightening Nigel’s own similar mood.

“I go to the gym,” Nolan acknowledged. “It helps me with the stress of my job.”

Nigel could still get free if he wanted, most likely, but he’d have to work for it. Nolan was really fit and quite vigorously frustrated, impressively so. He was almost as strong as Nigel, and so much angrier at the moment, it stirred Nigel’s own inner storm to see it finally come out to play: Nolan’s desire, his need for what only Nigel could offer.

It had been too long since someone had badly needed Nigel’s brand of hard, greedy sex, and his pride was feeling about as fucking perky as his goddamn enormously erect cock.

“Do you need something else to help you with that…someone to take it all out on, perhaps?” Nigel surprised himself as Nolan looked him up and down with a cold scowl.

He actually felt a little dizzy. For a split second, as if Nolan was the only thing holding him upright. And Nigel hadn’t had that many fucking drinks, so something else was up. Oh, well, a new kink unlocked; why shouldn’t he go with it, see where it led?

“Are you…still…” Nolan teased him, holding him more firmly in place, purring the words into his ear as his warm breath tickled Nigel’s face. “Offering?”

Fuck, Nolan was even sexier when he was mad, how could Nigel have forgotten? But now he was older, with that little bit of silver in his hair, his good looks only enhanced by the dignified way he’d become confident, mature and powerful in his career.

And he’d sparked Nigel’s curiosity, to be sure. Nobody ever wanted to push him around in the bedroom; it was always the other way around. Nolan’s bossiness was a huge turn-on, and it felt fucking good to bring out that fury which bristled underneath his polished reserve.

Nigel realized he was willing to see just how far Nolan would push him. He did not quite have the self-possession to make this conclusion intellectually; it definitely came from his dick as he was currently hard, aching and wet from staring at the Executive Assistant District Attorney while being eye-fucked by the prettiest, deepest pair of blue eyes framed by dark lashes. Angry eyes focused right on Nigel at the moment, to the exclusion of all else.

“If I say yes?”

“We don’t do anything unless I initiate it,” Nolan ordered. “You do as you’re told and put your back into it. Give me everything you’ve got, since you were so indefatigable about having me for the night. Do a good fucking job, can you handle that?”

Nigel’s eyes rolled back as the sound of Nolan’s good-boy voice swearing sent more blood rushing to his current decision-making device.

“You know I can. So take it away, your honor.”

Nolan smirked. He let Nigel go and snapped, “go get your keys.”

***
Inside, the lights stayed off. They were relearning each other by touch and with their mouths, catching little glimpses of what was familiar, remembered, and new, changed, more toned or softer. Their bodies still fit together so perfectly that it belied the outright weirdness of them being drawn together in any context.

“I wasn’t just using you back then,” Nigel said between fierce kisses as Nolan undid his shirt. “It was fun, too.”

He had Nolan’s face in both hands, and he liked to kiss hard, lots of tongue tangling, sucking and lip biting, the hungry fervor of him representing what Nolan wanted here. The words were, of course, nonsense, and not remotely needed.

“Shut up,” Nolan ordered, “Get on your knees. Don’t talk again, not about anything real, understand?”

Nigel went on his knees so willingly, it sent an electric tingle through Nolan.

The handsome criminal looked damn good down there, but then, he looked good everywhere. Still, something about Nigel looking up at him with that evil, sexy smirk, ready to suck Nolan off because he’d been told to do so was beautiful to see.

Nolan hurried to undo his belt, working right past the initial trembling of his hands. Nigel stared at the younger man’s long, lovely fingers as they moved, realizing it was mostly excitement at his own dominance and control of this situation that made Nolan quiver, not shyness, as in days of fucking old.

Both versions of the man were insanely hot and got Nigel going very easily.

“Right down to business, baby, huh?” he said, not arguing, of course, especially when Nolan revealed his rigid, dripping, beautiful cock. Nigel moved forward automatically.

Nolan slapped Nigel’s face with his dick and scolded, “I said, shut up.” He got a handful of Nigel’s hair and tugged. “In fact, let me help you with that.”

Nigel let the younger man shut him up, alright, as Nolan slid his huge cock into the gangster’s mouth and let out a wanton groan of pleasure. He could be good at this, he could get Nolan to come so hard he forgot he ever went to law school. But the weird thing was, Nigel was starting to get a drug-like sensation from Nolan’s control.

He’d done his share of raunchy shit in his day, including giving head more times than he could count, but Nigel had never closed his eyes and obediently let go like this.

Nolan gripped his face in both hands now and fucked it harder, then even harder, until he slid right to Nigel’s throat. Nigel was surprised by the loud, profane choking noises he made; he wasn’t sure he’d quite done this for any of the men he’d fucked. Had it done to him enough times, though. He usually took what he wanted and everyone left happy. This was different.

His throat fucking burned and it was hard to breathe even when common sense told him of course, he could. It was almost a little scary, and that was another massive fucking turn-on.

Even better, Nolan cursed and spilled so much precum onto Nigel’s eager tongue that the older man knew he’d just made Nolan feel incredibly good. He’d done well. It was enough to make Nigel slightly concerned he was gonna come in his fucking pants, because – Jesus – Nolan looked unbelievable, hair messed up, sweat trickling down his brow, eyes brighter blue than ever. His bare chest and stomach were exquisitely toned, like his biceps and forearms, lean but strong. He made a fucking gorgeous Dom, matter of fucking fact–

“Bed,” Nolan urged, after he’d taken his pleasure from Nigel’s mouth for another few minutes, heady sensations pouring over the criminal as he felt the pain of getting fucked that hard and choked repeatedly mixing with the pleasure of doing such a good job and making Nolan happy, giving Nolan what he needed.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever want to be in a relationship again, and even in a fuck buddies scenario, he didn’t know if he’d want to do this again, or often, but tonight was turning out to be quite the memorable fucking reunion, so he wasn’t going to complain if the sensations were novel enough to be uncomfortably exciting and confusing.

“Take the rest of your clothes off, lie down on your back,” Nolan ordered. The younger man waited as Nigel flung off what remained of his attire.

He couldn’t get on the fucking bed fast enough, actually, couldn’t wait to see what Nolan wanted to do to him next, what Nolan would take from him.

In the dim room, it was evident Nigel’s flat was reasonably clean and that it smelled of Nigel himself, for all the fucks he gave about the "no smoking" rules. The decor was brash and bold like the man himself; lots of framed photos of his wildest times with Darko and the gang back in Romania, plus more recent shots of himself partying with various new associates and fellow trouble-makers.

When he climbed onto the bed and glanced at Nolan, he saw the younger man looking around the place, still getting his bearings. But quickly, he lost interest in what he saw, aside from the naked man waiting for him.

Their eyes locked, then Nolan reached down to the floor and got his tie.

Oh, fuck. Is he doing what I think…

Nigel’s cheeks flamed and a tirade of swears in Romanian threatened to spill from his lips as Nolan straightened the tie out, making it taut, pulled between his hands. With a determined look, a grim smile and darkly glimmering eyes, the lawyer approached, no doubt noticing that this development had made Nigel’s body respond.

“That’s good,” Nolan approved.

The businesslike tone in his voice as he bestowed what otherwise might be construed as mild praise was only making Nigel fucking harder.

Matter-of-factly, but with approval, Nolan added, “You’re aroused by this.”

“Yeah, baby, I guess I fucking am,” Nigel admitted. For the second time, his cock twitched all by itself and released more pearly drops of his urgent desire.

Nolan had stripped naked as well, every inch of him a feast for Nigel’s happily wandering eyes. Fucking hell, this was a handsome, sexy boy, and he had complete control here, had big bad Nigel in the palm of his hand. How the tables had turned.

“Hmm. So I see. That will make this better,” Nolan said, easily finding the nearest bottle of lube on the side table.

He tossed it beside him on the bed, then bound Nigel’s wrists to the headboard rails with his nice-boy, important-lawyer blue necktie.

His pretty nipples were rosy and hard as he approved the sight of this, too, Nigel’s arms bound above his head, his muscles flexing at the unaccustomed feeling of it, his pupils dilating with more lust.

“Aww, couldn’t you have tied me up after I got to do that?” Nigel almost wanted to pout as Nolan lubed up his fingers and started riding them right in front of him, driving him crazy.

The sight of the slender, skilled fingers gliding into his tight body and making Nolan moan was fucking going to kill him. His cock pulsed, painfully in need, and Nolan only seemed to use the sight of that to fuel his own arousal and have an easier time starting to fuck himself good and hard.

His head fell back, showing off his long neck as he worked, his forehead creasing and his lashes fluttering, and he was hitting the spot just right, but carefully not going at it enough to come just yet.

Nolan’s incredible self-control, combined with his own tied-up submission, made Nigel’s head spin. As for watching how his lover’s gorgeous body responded to his own touch, Nigel’s hands tugged at the restraint, finding that the tie wasn’t tight enough to hurt him much, but he wasn’t getting out of it without a real fight, either. He didn’t want to fight this, just didn’t want to wait anymore.

Luckily, Nolan wasn’t here for some long lovemaking session, and had got himself ready as the most expedient way to get to this next part – tormenting Nigel had just been an entertaining bonus. So, the younger man sucked Nigel's cock a few times, stroking him. Nolan quickly made him wet, made it really fucking hard not to come after about five seconds.

Nigel moaned and then gritted his teeth. Nolan’s warm, wet mouth felt far too good sucking him and licking at his throbbing dick. He couldn’t even touch himself, never mind Nolan. This was insane. Nigel had never realized how crazy this could make him.

Finally satisfied with Nigel’s “progress,” Nolan added some lube to make him even wetter and slicker, and climbed astride him.

Slowly, firmly, he took every inch of Nigel into himself, as the hot, tight, velvety clutch of his body immediately caused Nigel to hiss in pleasure.

Nolan moaned as well. “Feels fucking good,” he gasped, and then he was moving.

He set the pace, like he’d said, and this turned out to be a lot of fun for him, another form of torture for his lover.

Nigel stared at Nolan’s beautiful body writhing up and down on him, head flung back as his curls flopped, his tight hole sucking Nigel in over and over. His features contorted with profound pleasure as he took what he wanted from Nigel, fast until they both almost came, then fucking slow and teasing and – evil, Nigel groaned, absolutely fucking evil.

Defenseless, he had to lie there, soaking the sheets with his sweat as Nolan broke him with pleasure just to change the speed and style of his movements so they had to build the tempo up from scratch.

Nigel’s swears eventually melted into begging, “Fuck, baby, please, just go for it, just fucking take everything you want from me until you come – I swear it’ll be good–”

“But this is good,” Nolan smirked. “I like it. Are you complaining? Because I’ll stop.”

Nigel found himself blathering out pleas of “Don’t stop, whatever you do, gorgeous,” barely recognizing the desperation in his voice. He felt like he was gonna fucking faint if he didn’t come soon.

“Poor you,” Nolan said with a low, wicked laugh when he’d enjoyed this for a nice, long while, leaving them both unhinged in wildly different ways. “But then as you said, luck is a tricky thing, isn’t it, Nigel?”

He was breathless, but still entirely in control as he undid the older man’s wrists and then knelt before him, clasping Nigel’s face in a vice grip and kissing him hard, deep, not even giving Nigel’s arms and hands a chance to feel fucking normal again before putting the older man back to work.

Nolan finished kissing his face off, then shoved him back. He gave Nigel a challenging look.

“You’re nowhere near done,” the lawyer ordered, “You’re going to fuck me into next week. Understand?”

Nigel nodded and watched with bated breath and a pounding heartbeat as Nolan went into doggy position in front of him. Of course, Nigel had to lean down and kiss that gorgeous hole before licking and lapping at it like his life depended on it. Although this got Nolan moaning and grabbing the sheets, it was only allowed for a minute or so before he snapped at Nigel again.

“That’s enough, fuck me now. Make me feel it everywhere. Erase my brain.”

“Message received, darling,” Nigel said, licking his lips and lining his thick cock up to the lawyer’s tight, but prepared and clearly quite needy hole.

Nolan wanted to be full again so badly, his body was crying out for it.

The lawyer grunted and gasped as Nigel fucked him hard, pounding his prostate ruthlessly, holding those pretty hips in both hands, savoring the delicate feeling of them, staring down as his huge cock disappeared into that perfect, pink hole. Again and again.

“That’s good,” was all Nolan said, sending another tremor of prideful satisfaction through Nigel that felt like a hit from that same new drug again.

“Keep going,” Nolan commanded, yanking and almost tearing at the sheets as his body clenched down on Nigel and he moved his ass back to take even more, deeper. “That’s it, that’s it – perfect – yes! Ah! Fuck!"

They were a sweaty, moaning, relentless mess, their bodies slamming together, the musky heat of their joined bodies dizzying their senses; they smelled amazing all over each other; this was good in every fucking way.

“Nigel!” Nolan said brokenly, “Right there, harder–”

He orgasmed, shivering as the pleasure cascaded through him, skin, bone, every nerve and pore. Nigel loved how the boy clenched down on him even harder and came all over the sheets, moaning like a whore, treating Nigel like one, too.

“Keep going,” Nolan insisted hoarsely, knowing damn well what Nigel was capable of.

Nigel proceeded to fuck him so hard and deep that not only did he drag another wild, harsh orgasm out of the younger man, but he came as well, filling Nolan with pulse after pulse of his hot seed. And then he still kept going, leaving fingerprints and scratches all over Nolan as he rutted like a beast, finally stopping only when he couldn’t give either one of them another drop of ecstasy.

***

“What the fuck was that, EADA Price?” Nigel laughed as he enjoyed his post-coital cigarette. He lay naked and as comfortable with himself as ever, the sheets low on his hairy stomach as his chest rose and fell steadily.

It had taken a while for their bodies to be able to do much more than lie in a helpless stupor, but there hadn’t been any cuddling. Just a few laughs and coy looks, followed by a last kiss, revealing that the hunger was still there, anytime they wanted to chase it again.

“Nothing,” Nolan laughed.

Wow, he was relaxed from head to toe. He’d never felt better.

“Guess I shouldn’t ask for your number then, huh?” Nigel chuckled and winked, putting his cigarette out and regarding the younger man curiously.

Nolan liked the feeling of admiring, golden-brown eyes on him as he got dressed again. But otherwise, he was done here.

“No. You shouldn’t. Not that it would matter, since I’d never give it to you.” Nolan finished gathering his things, fastening his watch, buttoning his shirt cuffs, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He’d take a shower at home, then probably sleep for a long damn time.

Nigel was still watching him, looking casually impressed. “Come and find me sometime, if you want.”

“Maybe, if I’m in the mood,” Nolan shrugged. He found his tie on the bed and slipped it in his pocket. It was sort of a memento now. “The mood to forget everything, including why you’re a bad idea. You never know. It’s a rare mood, but if lightning struck the same place twice already…I guess it’s not impossible.”

“Cheeky,” Nigel laughed. “Listen, before you go, I meant it earlier, about having fun with you. I really did, back then as well as tonight. You don’t deserve to think otherwise.”

Nolan rolled his eyes, hunting for his coat, finally finding it flung over a chair. “Nigel? Shh. Don’t say that stuff. You be you, I’ll be me. I leave,” he said, as if explaining to a child, using a slow, informative tone. “You lie there and smoke. You give me that hazy look and say, ‘see you when I see you, gorgeous,’ or ‘see you around, baby. Maybe.’ That’s it.”

Nigel grinned, absolutely charmed. “See you when I see you, then, gorgeous.”

With that, Nolan left, closing the door behind him. He might want another round of stress-erasing sex with Nigel at some point, but damn, it was a good, and very new feeling, strutting out into the very beginnings of morning light, not really caring either way.

He felt no love or guilt, not even infatuation or regret. No confusion. Funny thing was, to his amusement, but with a thrill of distinct pride, Nolan did feel pretty damn sexy.