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Just a tiny snippet that was going to be on the end of Dust From Their Shoes.
Title: Close
Rating: PG-13/R
Fandom: Sanctuary
Characters/Pairings: Nikola/Nigel
Summary: Set in 1919, coda to Dust From Their Shoes. Two men and a very narrow bed
Wordcount: 1248
Warnings/Notes: Closest I ever come to explicit, really. I'm not sure I'm all that good at it -_-;
Disclaimer: Not mine
Title: Close
Rating: PG-13/R
Fandom: Sanctuary
Characters/Pairings: Nikola/Nigel
Summary: Set in 1919, coda to Dust From Their Shoes. Two men and a very narrow bed
Wordcount: 1248
Warnings/Notes: Closest I ever come to explicit, really. I'm not sure I'm all that good at it -_-;
Disclaimer: Not mine
Close
The bunk really was too narrow for the both of them, even considering the amount of weight Nigel had lost. Single passenger berths were not designed for two full-grown men, and they'd ended up tangled together more by necessity than design, a loose bundle of limbs and noses mashed into uncomfortable places. Nikola laughed breathlessly above him, squirming closer, insinuating himself into every gap Nigel allowed, pressing Nigel back against the wall. Nikola on the outside, Nikola presenting his vulnerable back to the door, Nikola putting himself between Nigel and the rest of the world. Just this once. Just for now. There was still blood on Nikola's sleeve. There were dead men in the English Channel.
Nigel pushed back, a little. Pressed his nose into Nikola's chest, hid his eyes in the rise of the man's collarbone. Wrapped one arm about Nikola's hips and pulled him closer against the narrowness of the bed. Fine thanks it would be, to let the man fall on his arse after all of that. Nikola hummed approvingly, squirming like the damned wriggly bastard he was, mouth pressed to Nigel's hairline, hands tracing the lines of Nigel's back in the narrow space, short, stilted motions from the lack of room, the sweep along his spine the extent of Nikola's reach.
"You're a bloody menace," Nigel managed, murmuring it breathlessly to the man's breastbone, touching his mouth to the skin there to feel the vibrations of Nikola's laugh, to feel the tremors in pale, unmarked flesh. To feel Nikola shake around him, unbreakable.
"Oh, definitely," the man breathed, an eddy of air about his head, tickling faintly. Nikola mouthed at the upper curve of Nigel's ear, soft pressure, barely there. Laughing at the fists Nigel tangled in the shirt at his hips, their legs hopelessly tangled, with no room to move, no room to do anything except press against each other. "I'm absolutely a menace. How astute of you to notice, Nigel."
"Shut up," he growled, into the hot, dark space between them, shaking his head against the man's chest. He'd no idea how they were supposed to sleep like this. Take a bloody miracle, if one of them didn't back up a bit.
He wrapped an arm tighter around the other man.
"Mmm," Nikola murmured, softer now, though Nigel could still feel the curve of his smile pressed against Nigel's ear. Then Nikola moved, suddenly, a long, powerful stretch against Nigel, complicated by the tangle of their legs and the utterly hopeless lack of space, but not mattering because somehow in the process their hips came together. Somehow Nikola managed to press against him without falling off the bed, and for a moment there was a crackle between them not unlike the man's damnable electricity, a rush in the darkness of danger and safety and friendship and need, and Nigel strangled any response he could have made in the folds of Nikola's shirt. Swore softly and steadily into the man's chest, as Nikola grinned above him, and wriggled.
"I hate you," he swore, his fingers biting into Nikola's hips, not so much to hold the man still as to simply hold on, to keep the man from pulling both of them down, to keep Nikola close. "I hate you," he growled breathlessly, and bit at the wing of bone at Nikola's collar, almost lost him as the man jolted, held on tight because he'd no other choice.
"Mpfff," Nikola gasped, mouthing helplessly at the top of Nigel's head, and Nigel spared a thought for the sharpness of the teeth in that mouth, and the way head wounds would bleed as if there was no tomorrow, and the quiet sound of Nikola's voice, assuring him he hadn't broken his promise. Wasn't going to. Would never. Nigel spared a thought, for the arm at his back that wasn't bleeding anymore, and wondered why he almost wished Nikola would. "I could get used to being hated like this," Nikola whispered softly, with a grin in his voice, and Nigel pulled him flush with on a growl, something clenching inside his chest, and lifted his hips in a way that hopefully wouldn't knock them both off. Nikola shut up, breath hitching on a laugh.
"Arrogant," Nigel whispered vehemently, unknotting one fist from the damp shirt at Nikola's back, worming it harshly between them, pushing angrily at their respective trousers. "Reckless. Squirmy!" Nikola laughed softly, the hand not trapped under Nigel's body slipping down to join Nigel's between them, cool fingers skating over the back of Nigel's hand, over his knuckles, wriggling to catch obstructive material and tug it away, baring ... "You damn, bloody, stupid sod."
"Yes," Nikola breathed, nuzzling gently into the hair above Nigel's ear, laughing in something a little like shock as their hands tangled around bared flesh, as Nigel's rough palm finally found its target and pressed. "I love you too, Nigel."
Nigel laughed a little himself, at that, wild and breathless and not, perhaps, exactly sane, but he didn't much care at this point. He was too busy moving, too busy fighting with hips and hands not to press too hard, not to move too violently, not to throw the man off when the last bloody thing he wanted was to lose ... the touch of his hand, and the heat of his nearness, and the solidity of the man ranged between him and the world. When the last thing he wanted was to lose Nikola. Nigel moved, palm and thumb and hips, fingers tangling in Nikola's as they moved together, and wrestled savagely with himself at every motion, every touch. Wondered if Nikola wasn't fighting just as hard, laughing through the rippling, savage shock as he pushed past the limit, throwing his head back and away from the the thin, fragile skin of Nigel's scalp as he came, against a hunger that Nigel thought, just this once, he might understand.
The darkness swamped him, when it was done. As the last shudders rippled through him, exhaustion clawed up in their wake, a greyness about his eyes and a ringing in his ears, and Nigel clung suddenly to Nikola's still-shaking form. Curled his face into the man's chest, ignoring the dampness between them, as suddenly all the pain and exhaustion and fear of the past four years swamped him all at once, and it was only distantly that he heard his breath hitch on a sob, break on some strangled sound.
Then Nikola was there. Then the arm trapped beneath Nigel lifted him, with casual, careless strength as Nikola shimmied sideways, and suddenly he was draped across the man's chest, curled into the tiny space between the vampire and the wall as Nikola lay flat beneath him, and wrapped him in arms that should be terrifying for their strength. Nikola, hard and thin and unbreakable. Nikola, who'd kill for Nigel if he had to. Nikola, who right now was blessedly silent, no inane, patronising attempts at comfort, no comment, simply letting Nigel cry into the darkness. Nikola, a vampire, the safest place in the world.
"You know," Nikola said softly, musingly, when Nigel had finally quieted against him. Raising a hand, a pale flash in the dimness, to gesture over them, down at the mess at their hips, at the bare few inches of space between himself and the edge. "Next time, I think we might be better served to start on the floor, don't you think? Also, perhaps naked?"
And Nigel slipped into sleep to the sound of his own soft, hiccuping laughter.
The bunk really was too narrow for the both of them, even considering the amount of weight Nigel had lost. Single passenger berths were not designed for two full-grown men, and they'd ended up tangled together more by necessity than design, a loose bundle of limbs and noses mashed into uncomfortable places. Nikola laughed breathlessly above him, squirming closer, insinuating himself into every gap Nigel allowed, pressing Nigel back against the wall. Nikola on the outside, Nikola presenting his vulnerable back to the door, Nikola putting himself between Nigel and the rest of the world. Just this once. Just for now. There was still blood on Nikola's sleeve. There were dead men in the English Channel.
Nigel pushed back, a little. Pressed his nose into Nikola's chest, hid his eyes in the rise of the man's collarbone. Wrapped one arm about Nikola's hips and pulled him closer against the narrowness of the bed. Fine thanks it would be, to let the man fall on his arse after all of that. Nikola hummed approvingly, squirming like the damned wriggly bastard he was, mouth pressed to Nigel's hairline, hands tracing the lines of Nigel's back in the narrow space, short, stilted motions from the lack of room, the sweep along his spine the extent of Nikola's reach.
"You're a bloody menace," Nigel managed, murmuring it breathlessly to the man's breastbone, touching his mouth to the skin there to feel the vibrations of Nikola's laugh, to feel the tremors in pale, unmarked flesh. To feel Nikola shake around him, unbreakable.
"Oh, definitely," the man breathed, an eddy of air about his head, tickling faintly. Nikola mouthed at the upper curve of Nigel's ear, soft pressure, barely there. Laughing at the fists Nigel tangled in the shirt at his hips, their legs hopelessly tangled, with no room to move, no room to do anything except press against each other. "I'm absolutely a menace. How astute of you to notice, Nigel."
"Shut up," he growled, into the hot, dark space between them, shaking his head against the man's chest. He'd no idea how they were supposed to sleep like this. Take a bloody miracle, if one of them didn't back up a bit.
He wrapped an arm tighter around the other man.
"Mmm," Nikola murmured, softer now, though Nigel could still feel the curve of his smile pressed against Nigel's ear. Then Nikola moved, suddenly, a long, powerful stretch against Nigel, complicated by the tangle of their legs and the utterly hopeless lack of space, but not mattering because somehow in the process their hips came together. Somehow Nikola managed to press against him without falling off the bed, and for a moment there was a crackle between them not unlike the man's damnable electricity, a rush in the darkness of danger and safety and friendship and need, and Nigel strangled any response he could have made in the folds of Nikola's shirt. Swore softly and steadily into the man's chest, as Nikola grinned above him, and wriggled.
"I hate you," he swore, his fingers biting into Nikola's hips, not so much to hold the man still as to simply hold on, to keep the man from pulling both of them down, to keep Nikola close. "I hate you," he growled breathlessly, and bit at the wing of bone at Nikola's collar, almost lost him as the man jolted, held on tight because he'd no other choice.
"Mpfff," Nikola gasped, mouthing helplessly at the top of Nigel's head, and Nigel spared a thought for the sharpness of the teeth in that mouth, and the way head wounds would bleed as if there was no tomorrow, and the quiet sound of Nikola's voice, assuring him he hadn't broken his promise. Wasn't going to. Would never. Nigel spared a thought, for the arm at his back that wasn't bleeding anymore, and wondered why he almost wished Nikola would. "I could get used to being hated like this," Nikola whispered softly, with a grin in his voice, and Nigel pulled him flush with on a growl, something clenching inside his chest, and lifted his hips in a way that hopefully wouldn't knock them both off. Nikola shut up, breath hitching on a laugh.
"Arrogant," Nigel whispered vehemently, unknotting one fist from the damp shirt at Nikola's back, worming it harshly between them, pushing angrily at their respective trousers. "Reckless. Squirmy!" Nikola laughed softly, the hand not trapped under Nigel's body slipping down to join Nigel's between them, cool fingers skating over the back of Nigel's hand, over his knuckles, wriggling to catch obstructive material and tug it away, baring ... "You damn, bloody, stupid sod."
"Yes," Nikola breathed, nuzzling gently into the hair above Nigel's ear, laughing in something a little like shock as their hands tangled around bared flesh, as Nigel's rough palm finally found its target and pressed. "I love you too, Nigel."
Nigel laughed a little himself, at that, wild and breathless and not, perhaps, exactly sane, but he didn't much care at this point. He was too busy moving, too busy fighting with hips and hands not to press too hard, not to move too violently, not to throw the man off when the last bloody thing he wanted was to lose ... the touch of his hand, and the heat of his nearness, and the solidity of the man ranged between him and the world. When the last thing he wanted was to lose Nikola. Nigel moved, palm and thumb and hips, fingers tangling in Nikola's as they moved together, and wrestled savagely with himself at every motion, every touch. Wondered if Nikola wasn't fighting just as hard, laughing through the rippling, savage shock as he pushed past the limit, throwing his head back and away from the the thin, fragile skin of Nigel's scalp as he came, against a hunger that Nigel thought, just this once, he might understand.
The darkness swamped him, when it was done. As the last shudders rippled through him, exhaustion clawed up in their wake, a greyness about his eyes and a ringing in his ears, and Nigel clung suddenly to Nikola's still-shaking form. Curled his face into the man's chest, ignoring the dampness between them, as suddenly all the pain and exhaustion and fear of the past four years swamped him all at once, and it was only distantly that he heard his breath hitch on a sob, break on some strangled sound.
Then Nikola was there. Then the arm trapped beneath Nigel lifted him, with casual, careless strength as Nikola shimmied sideways, and suddenly he was draped across the man's chest, curled into the tiny space between the vampire and the wall as Nikola lay flat beneath him, and wrapped him in arms that should be terrifying for their strength. Nikola, hard and thin and unbreakable. Nikola, who'd kill for Nigel if he had to. Nikola, who right now was blessedly silent, no inane, patronising attempts at comfort, no comment, simply letting Nigel cry into the darkness. Nikola, a vampire, the safest place in the world.
"You know," Nikola said softly, musingly, when Nigel had finally quieted against him. Raising a hand, a pale flash in the dimness, to gesture over them, down at the mess at their hips, at the bare few inches of space between himself and the edge. "Next time, I think we might be better served to start on the floor, don't you think? Also, perhaps naked?"
And Nigel slipped into sleep to the sound of his own soft, hiccuping laughter.
