1. Luke

He was drunk. Much too drunk for a Tuesday night. He had to be in the office by 8 tomorrow morning, but fuck, who even cared anymore?

He looked down at his glass. It was empty. He slammed it upside-down on the table, like a shot glass, and gestured to the barman.

“Hey Eduardo! Get me another one of these!”

The barman, a good-looking man in his late twenties with tanned skin and dark eyes, looked over to where Luke was seated and nodded. He turned to the alcohol behind him, and Luke noticed a new tattoo on his right arm. A tribal symbol of some sort. Cliché, but it suited Edo, he supposed.

Luke looked around the pub, waiting for his drink to arrive. It was almost empty, save for a couple over at a table in a corner – they looked like a couple, anyway, sitting opposite each other and holding hands – and a group of teens laughing loudly. Fucking teenagers. What did they have to laugh about? Life wasn't fun and games. Life took you to some important place in your life, like a business meeting with a potential customer, a meeting you’ve been preparing for carefully for weeks, a meeting the big bosses are trusting you with, a meeting that, if successful, could bring lots of money in and make you appear wonderful in front of the board, which would probably lead to a big promotion and a big rise in salary, then make your girlfriend call you barely minutes into the meeting, always embarrassing, to tell you that she couldn't deal with it any more, whatever “it” may be, and break up with you. So you go through the meeting hoping that she's just going through some phase in her head and do the best you can – “because, with Elliott and Chambers, the only place to go from here is up” - then rush home, pushing through the crowd that seems to be thicker and slower and more difficult than usual, waiting for the underground that takes much too long to rattle its way into your station, squashing yourself between a man with what is probably yesterday's dinner in his beard and a woman holding a crying baby, hurrying past everyone to get back onto the street and into your building. And when you get to the apartment, she's fucking gone. Everything. All her clothes, shoes, jewellery, toiletries, her laptop, even the mug she drinks her coffee from every morning. Then you call her, again and again, on every number you know, and she doesn't pick up. You call everyone you can think of, her mother, her best friend – who picks up the phone only to tell you that she's not with her, her brother, even one of her work colleagues, but nothing. She doesn't want to be found.

Then you find a note on your desk, half-hidden beneath the bag you threw onto it when you charged in. She's not in love with you any more, she doubts you were ever in love with her, she wishes there could be another way, but there is no future for the two of you. And, at the very end, “besides, I've met someone who completes me like you never did. We're in love, Luke, and I hope you can find someone who makes you as happy as he makes me. I'll forever think of you with love, Sofia.”

That, that right there is what life is. It picks you up to make you think you're flying, then drops you into spikes made of steel, with saltwater falling from the sky, just add insult to injury.

The bitch. That fucking whore of a bitch.

Luke growled and damn-near tore his tie off. His jacket was already on the back of the chair, placed there with the last vestiges of calm he'd had before he started drinking.

Luke pulled out his phone – no text, no call, but why should there be? She was not planning on coming back, and he didn't want her, the cunt, she was a slut – and reasoned that he should call his assistant to tell her that he wouldn't be in tomorrow. He wasn't planning on being sober at all for the next couple of days.

Eduardo put a hand on his shoulder, “Luke. Tío. Your drink.”

Luke put his phone back in his pocket and downed almost a third in one go, “Thanks.”

Eduardo glanced at the other customers, then crossed his arms and looked at Luke.

“Bad day?”

Luke glared at him. Eduardo nodded.

“What did she do?” he asked, pulling up a chair next to him.

Luke had known Edo since he and Sofia had first moved into the flat and he had found The Old Boot, deciding that he needed a local pub to relax in. He had definitely made use of it as an escape from life’s stresses. He’d come in once after a fight with Sofia and Edo had served him his pint, then leaned on the counter and asked him what was wrong.
Edo had soon become something of a friend, always ready with a pint, a willing ear, good advice and countless stories of his experiences and conquests.
So Luke knew that Edo was asking as a mate. An offer to listen and help, if he could.

Luke frowned, “Bitch left. She fucking left. I can't contact her and she's found someone,” he took a large gulp of the too-sweet drink – some cocktail that Eduardo made, all he knew was it was dark and sweet and had to be at least forty proof – and opened the top button of his collar, “someone who 'makes her happy'.” He mimicked.

Eduardo nodded again.

“Bitch wants me to 'be as happy as she is'. She cheated on me! After all those times she interrogated me 'cause she thought I was cheating on her! God only fucking knows for how long. And with how many people. I can't believe her. I never questioned her stupid work hours, maybe I should have, but mine are stupid too,” another angry gulp, “so how was I supposed to know? And the bitch probably brought home random men to my fucking flat and rode them in the bed I shared with her every night while I worked to pay our bills. That's it, man, I am fucking over women. All they do is screw you over and take your money.”

Eduardo looked over his shoulder, Sam waved, he'd taken over at the bar, and turned back with a smile, “Compañero, my shift is over. You need to come with me.”

He stood up and removed the bar-staff apron he had around his waist.

Luke stared at him for a moment. Then, with a shrug, finished his drink and stood up too. He wobbled for a moment then picked up his tie, slung it round his neck and picked up his jacket.

“Why not?” It’s not like Edo could make Sofia come back and beg for forgiveness, but he could give him a night out.

Eduardo grinned, “Great. We will go to another bar, a club. I work there too, but it's my night off. We get free drinks.”

“A club?” asked Luke, a little dubiously, looking down at his dress shirt, formal trousers and polished shoes. He was dressed for work, not dancing and possibly pulling. But getting drunk in some club sounded perfect right about now, he hadn’t been out like that since before Sofia.

Eduardo waved him towards the door, chucking his apron at Sam on the way out and collecting his backpack that Sam had put on the counter, “See you tomorrow, Sam!”

“Eduardo.”

“Luke. Only my mother calls me Eduardo. Call me Edo. Or E. Like ecstasy, cos that's what I bring.” He winked at Luke and laughed.

“Edua- Edo. I'm wearing a suit, I’m not dressed for a club.”

He looked him up and down, “Clothes? No problem. We can fix. Hey Sam!”

The guy behind the counter looked up, “Yeah, mate?”

Ed pulled the jacket away from Luke and threw it at Sam the same way he had thrown his apron.

“Can I give you this to keep? Until tomorrow. Put it in my locker, yeah?”

Sam shrugged, walking to the back with the jacket in hand, “Sure.”

Luke blinked, “What?”

Eduardo dragged Luke out the door. They walked to the underground in silence, before Luke felt uncomfortable.

 “So, where are we going?”

“Like I said, a club.” Edo lead them to a westbound platform.

“Oh. Ok. So, you took the jacket off. That fixed it? I still have my tie.”

Edo smiled again, “No, not all fixed. But we will.”

A train arrived. It was the same train that took Sofia to work every morning.

Not for the first time, Luke wondered if everything in life was easy for Edo. He was good looking, had an accent that drove women insane and, according to his stories, got very little wrong. Trains arrived when he got there. Lights changed for him. Every time he saw him, the guy was mixing drinks or flirting with someone. Anyone, really, as long as they were good looking. Which caused a moment of doubt.

“Edo, this isn’t a date, is it?”

“Que?” To Luke's great amusement, Edo did an actual double-take, “No, no, Luke! Boys' night out, ok? You're cool, dude, but I don't like you like that.”

“Ok. Good.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before the carriage swerved because of a curve in the tunnel and Luke was thrown into a seat.

“Ow!”

“Ok, amigo, time to fix you up.”

Within minutes, Edo was done. He had pulled a pot of something out of his backpack and then dealt with Luke's hair, which now had some sort of citrus-y product in it and was tousled in the same sort of mess that Luke had to tame every morning when he got out of bed but pushed away from his face, his shirt sleeves were rolled up, his trousers were slightly lower on his hips that he was comfortable with but he didn't dare object with the concentration on Edo's face, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone.

“Much better. They're going to love you.”

Luke nodded, not asking who was going to love him so, and squinted at his reflection in the carriage window. He did look quite good.

He then realised that he wasn't feeling sick. He was on a moving train, after drinking quite a lot of alcohol, and he wasn't nauseated.

“Edo, what did you put in my drinks?”

Edo shrugged and sat down next to him, almost sounding British when chastising, “Sugar, mostly. A little alcohol, but not much. Except for the first two, they were real. It's not good for you to drink like you were, especially angry. A lot about being drunk is in the mind.”

Luke's forehead creased, indignant, “But I paid for the alcoholic drinks. And where did your accent go?”

“Chaval,” he smiled, “I have lived here for many years. And I know that the one thing that gets people's attention is a foreign accent. Girls especially, they love it. So I try to keep my Spanish accent. And you didn't pay. You put them on your tab, so you got the right price. Ah, this is our stop.”

Luke was pulled up off the seat and out of the station before he realised what was happening.

“Ok,” they stopped abruptly in the street. Luke could hear music in the background, bass and a beat; they had to be close to the club district, “before we go in, you and me have to discuss something.”

Luke nodded and brought a hand up to run his fingers through his hair, but Edo slapped the hand away.

“We are here for you to forget the bitch that cheated on you. So we are going to a club.” He paused for a moment, “I am bisexual. You know this, you don't care, excellent. My plan was to go to a club that accommodates this fact. You ok with that?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“You sure?”

Luke nodded again, stuffing his hands in his pockets to hide the fact that they were clenching and unclenching at the thought of Sofia.

“You might be propositioned by a man to do things you may or may not want to do. You state your opinion, they move away. Anything happens that you don't want, you come to find me, ok?”

Luke nodded a third time, jaw clenched, thoughts of Sofia, the bitch, happily out with some douchebag filling his head.

“Amigo, speak.”

“Ok. Let's do this, let's go to the club. I need alcohol. I want to forget Sofia, forget she fucking ripped out my heart with her stupid fake nails, I want forget my own fucking name. If I'm lucky, I might even score. Fuck knows sex with her wasn't that great. Who even cares who the other person is?”

Edo looked doubtful for a moment, then leads him to the source of the beat.

The club district was fairly recent, but Edo weaved his way between people and into the right street as though he did it every day.

Which, Luke realised, he did, because he worked there. Fuck, even his brain was giving up on him – maybe Sofia took it by mistake. He really needed a drink.

They were waved in by the bouncers, which meant they were stared at by the people at the door waiting to be let in, and entered the Epiphany.

Edo went to the bar, gave them his bag to put behind the counter and got them drinks, with real vodka in, he promised, then walked onto the dance floor. Luke wasn't sure if he was supposed to follow or not, so he stayed by the bar, leaning onto the counter with a put-on sort of ease.

The music was the usual kind of club mix. Always a fast beat, synth behind that and, more often than not, an auto-tuned voice singing about love, sex, dancing.

He watched the bodies move on the dance floor. If he had been in a better mood, he might have appreciated it, but all he could think was that they looked a massive snake, whose poisoned bite would sting only slightly less than Sofia's betrayal. He almost kicked himself about being so melodramatic.

He knocked back his first real alcoholic drink of the night and grimaced. This was much too girly – vodka-soda.

A girl to his left, who was dancing with someone who he assumed was a friend, gave a flirty little wave and winked at him. But he really needed a proper drink first.

He got a scotch on the rocks from the bartender, who gave him a thumbs up when he tried to pay and pointed to Edo – who was already dancing on a pole with a girl in a tight blue dress on the stage – which Luke took to indicate that his drinks would be on the house. Excellent. Nothing quite like getting smashed on good-quality drinks for free.

The girl who had been dancing with her friend had moved on. Ah well.

A woman strode up next to him and ordered a Baileys. She was pretty. But her hair was blonde and straight and went down to her shoulders, like Sofia's did, so he took a sip of his whisky and went back to observing the crowd.

He ordered another scotch before assessing the girls as possible accompaniments home.

There was a girl on the stage, two poles away from Edo, who was wearing sheer sparkly tights and shorts, but she was dancing with a girl who had just started licking her neck, and Luke wasn't going to interrupt. There was another one at the other side of the room who was sitting with her friends, but girls in packs are never easy to approach unless you had all the confidence in the world – which, at this particular moment in time, Luke was lacking. Nothing like having your girlfriend of years leave you to bring down your confidence levels. He noticed a woman on the other side of the bar. She was wearing a black dress and boots with heels, leaning on the counter as she waited for the bartender to notice her.
She had that sort of beauty that stood out as being classic, a silver screen sort of charm. She was gorgeous.

He finished his drink, thought 'what the hell, it’s why I’m here', put the glass down on the counter and walked over to where she was. He leaned on the bar, mirroring her posture, and waited for the barman to come to them.

“Two of whatever she wants, and I'm buying.”

She raised an eyebrow, considered him for a moment, then turned back to the bartender, “We'll have a Tom Collins and four bodyshots with Nicola – he was booked for tonight, right? – two rum, two tequila.”

Luke was quick to add another whisky.

The bartender grinned almost too widely, “Coming right up.”

Luke turned to face the woman, “Hi.”

The woman was older than he was, by a few years, but she had dark eyes and dark hair that was slightly wavy, and her skin was slightly tanned, but it was clearly just her complexion. He wondered for a moment if she was Spanish, like Edo.

He put forward his hand and she shook it, talking loudly and slowly to make herself heard, “Linda. Bisexual. Up for a good time, but here to look for a girl.”

Not Spanish. Italian heritage, maybe? Definite posh accent, but her smile wasn't one he was used to seeing in London.

Luke chuckled and replied with the same sort of rhythm, “Figures. Luke. Open to suggestions for tonight.”
He hadn’t introduced himself like that in a long time, not since before Sofia. Since university, really, where it was on the edge of politeness to exchange that sort of information – are you this, I am that, we are, we should… But being with a man was something he hadn’t done since long before Sofia had ever been on the scene. Still, bodyshots, a Nicola, so far this was going well.

“Any suggestions at all?” she asked, taking the Tom Collins from the bartender, who pointed at a door on the far side of the bar.

“Any at all,” he confirmed, downing most of his scotch.

“Good,” she smiled and walked towards the door the bartender had indicated.

Luke finished his drink then followed her. The bartender gave him a thumbs-up.

Linda opened the door and held it open for him.

The room must have been a little sound-proof, because the music didn't seem as loud in there. There was a long table in the middle of the room with a tray at one end. Four shots – two rum, two tequila – and a dish with lime wedges and a salt cellar.

“This is the first time you've been to the Epiphany, isn't it?” she asked, sitting down in a chair near the door and dropped her bag next to it, sipping her drink.

He leant against the table, “Yeah. How did you know?”
“You have the first timer look. You scanned the crowd for girls, but skipped over anything you weren't used to seeing. That,” she shrugged, hair falling off her shoulder, “And you were sticking to the bar.”

Luke nodded.

“Ever done bodyshots?”

“Not like this. But I'm looking forward to it.” He smiled.

Her smile turned sly, “I'm sure you'll enjoy it. Me first, then you copy. Deal?”

“Deal. So, who is Nicola? She any good?”

“I am Nicola,” said a voice from behind him, “and people tell me I am amazing.”

“Nick!” greeted Linda, raising her Tom Collins to him, “Good to see you again.”

“And you, Linda,” said Nick.

Nicola was a male. A vaguely accented male. Luke had only noticed it when he'd pronounced her name.

“Nick, this is Luke. He's never done bodyshots before.”

That wasn’t quite right, but before he could say anything Nick turned to face him and, smiling, looked him up and down.

“We're going to have to educate you then, aren't we, Luke?”

Nick had to be about his age, maybe younger, and was dressed only in a pair of shorts which may or may not have been boxers. He had dark hair, and surprisingly bright blue eyes, Luke noticed, that were staring at Edo's handiwork. He suddenly felt very awkward compared to this guy who walked around in boxers with perfect ease and perfect abs. Maybe working out was part of his job. But he straightened up and smiled the smile he used on potential clients – confident, charming, and just a little bit sexy. At least, that's how Sofia used to put it. Although, if it was so sexy, why had she left?

“I like your hair,” said Nick, before moving to perch on the table, “Linda. How do you want to do this? Lights, music, me?”

Linda glanced at him, and Luke got the feeling that these things were usually decided beforehand, and it was because of him that this was last-minute.

Not that Nick seemed to mind. He was smiling at them both as though it had all been his idea.

Linda seemed to take action immediately, “Lights, ambient, music, main, you, on the table, now.”

The lights dimmed, the music from outside got louder and Nick stood up on the table.

“Like this?”

He started dancing. Luke blinked away the image of Nick on one of the poles outside.

Linda laughed, shaking her head, and started dancing too, Tom Collins still in hand. Luke felt even more awkward, his smile faltering.

Luckily, Nick crouched down and grabbed his arm, “Come on up, I don't bite. Unless you're into that kind of thing.”

Luke shook the awkwardness off and thought of the music. The beat was telling him to move, so he climbed onto the table with Nick, thought of Sofia and how he was here to replace her, at least for a night, repressed this awkward persona she’d left him with, lost himself in the music and danced with Nick.

Linda observed them, sly smile in place again.

Luke was having fun. He hadn't been out since before Sofia, and hadn't been to a gay club for years before that. He had forgotten, but there was something about dancing with men that was so much more satisfying than dancing with women. Women smelled sweet and were soft and wonderful, but you could get that closer to a man. Chest to chest, moving together in a way that just wasn't possible with a woman. And while Nick did smell sweet, it was only the faint smell of coconut rum and female perfume. Clearly from earlier customers.

Nick danced as though he wasn't getting paid for this, as though he had picked Luke up at the bar and wanted him all to himself. Luke wondered for a moment how much Nick had had to drink, but he quickly forgot what he was thinking when Nick wound himself close. One hand snaked into Luke's hair, while Luke’s hands wavered somewhere behind Nick's back, the awkwardness back for a moment. They moved together to the music.
His fingers skittered up and down Nick's back, exploring the warm skin until the man shivered as Luke's hand found a sensitive spot.

The song's beat started to change and Nick disentangled his hand and took a step back, away from Luke's strokes, blinking. Luke's scalp itched with the residual heat from Nick's hand.

“Well, Linda, new song, let's do this.”

Luke climbed off the table as she nodded.

“Ok,” she fluffed her hair with one hand, “bodyshots. The concept is simple – we have a body,” Nick smiled, “and shots,” she motioned towards the tray, “and you just combine the two.”

Nick looked to the glasses critically, “Rum and tequila?”

“You know it, baby! Rum first?”

Luke wasn't sure the question was directed at him, so said nothing but nodded.

Linda seemed satisfied with that, “Me first then you, yes?”

He nodded.

Linda went to collect the shots as Nick lay down on the table, like a gorgeous, one-man buffet, resting on his elbows. He turned his head and looked at Luke with a hint of a smirk.

“You nervous?”

Luke smirked back, “Should I be?”

Nick leant his head back and laughed, and Luke couldn't help but notice the curve of his neck.

“Maybe, new boy, maybe.”

“Down,” directed Linda, and Nick made himself comfortable on the table.

“Step one,” she said, “pour the alcohol onto the body.”

Linda carefully poured her shot of rum into Nick's belly button. Luke caught himself thinking the word 'belly button' and very firmly replaced it with 'navel'.

She turned the shot glass upside down on the tray.

“Step two, drink the alcohol.”

With a cheeky grin in Luke's direction, Linda licked the rum from Nick's navel.

It was one of the hottest things Luke had ever witnessed. Nick squirmed slightly at the touch of Linda's tongue, but the only way it would have been hotter, his mind supplied, was if Nick's hand were in her hair, encouraging her. His brain was going places it shouldn't go, when Linda looked up, dark eyes intense in the dim light, still licking the rum. His mind decided to stop working.

She finished her shot and looked at Luke, “Your turn.”

It took a moment for his brain to start up again, but Luke blinked to regain his composure and nervously licked his lips, then tilted his head to the left and stepped closer to the table.

He poured his shot into Nick's navel, like Linda had done, but he hadn't realised there was more alcohol than space. She had made it look easy.

It overflowed, going down one side.

“You have to drink it all.” said Linda.

Luke gulped, looked up and down Nick's body and leaned in close.

“No,” interrupted Linda, “not like that, you let it go all over the place, it's going to be messy. If you climb onto his legs, you can get it all more easily.”

While this was true, there was a vague sort of drunken logic in the practicality, it was also infinitely more sexy, and Luke hoped his trousers wouldn't show how sexy he thought it would be.
Deep breath and onto the table.

Nick moved his shoulders, to get more comfortable probably, and a little of the rum followed the path made by the overflow earlier.

Sofia would never have let something so sticky and alcoholic get so close to her skin, let alone let Luke do anything as inappropriate as lick it off. She had even made him brush his teeth if he'd drunk anything other than wine.

Well, Sofia, thought Luke, fuck you.

Luke started with the spill. Down Nick's side, next to his boxer shorts. He licked the rum from Nick's skin, warm, up from the side, across his abdomen and sipped from his navel.

He dipped his tongue into the navel, making Nick squirm deliciously under him.

By the time he had finished the rum, Luke had almost forgotten why he was licking the man's abdomen.

But then Linda exclaimed, “Tequila!”, and Luke stopped, mid-lick, sitting back on his haunches – and Nick's legs.

“Off, off, off,” ushered Linda, “it's tequila time.”

Luke climbed off Nick, who took the opportunity to sit up.

“This is the shot where breasts would really come in handy,” said Nick in a thoughtful tone of voice, looking down at his chest, “but they'd have to be quite big.”

“Idiot,” laughed Linda softly, handing Luke the salt cellar, “here, hold this.”

She then went up to Nick and proffered a lime wedge to him, “Shut up and look pretty.”

He took the slice, “Ai, ai, cap'n.”

“Luke, ever done a tequila shot?”

“Yes, ma'am. But never off someone else.”

“The principle is the same,” explained Nick, “salt, shot, lime, in that order. There are a few ways to do it, but this is the one that the club endorses. Show him, Linda.”

Linda picked up her shot, “This would be so much more interesting if you were a girl, Nick.”

Nick sighed and lay down again, “I know, I know. You've complained about this before.”

“If we had asked for a girl,” she told Luke, "the way this would work is she would be standing up, not on the table, and the shot would still be in the glass, but in-between the breasts. Salt on the abdomen, shot from the bra, lime wedge in the mouth...” she sighed, then turned to Nick, “why did I ask for you?”

Nick laughed, “Because you love me really, oh mentor of mine.”

Luke interrupted, “But Nick is male, so how does it work with him?”

Linda raised her shot, “Almost the same. Let me show you.”

She dipped two fingers into her shot glass, spread the liquid onto Nick's abdomen then took the salt from Luke's hand, and sprinkled some onto the place she had just wet as Nick put the lime wedge in his mouth, the flesh peeking out of his lips.

“You won't need to wet the spot for the salt,” she said, handing him the salt again, “because it should still be sticky.”

She climbed onto the table, like Luke had before, but slightly more gracefully despite the hindrance of the skirt, and carefully balanced her shot glass on Nick's chest then looked at Luke.

She smiled, “Ready?”

Luke gave her his best confident grin, the same grin that had won over potential wealthy clients, and Sofia. But this may have been his best grin yet, because she grinned back and said something to Nick, though Luke couldn't hear what, because the beat of the music was suddenly louder in his ears than it had been than it had been, or maybe the drumming was something else entirely.

“Step one,” she said, licking the salt from Nick's abs. He was surprisingly still, “Step two, no hands,” she clasped her hands behind her back and sank the shot using only her mouth. A pause, as she removed the glass, “Step three,” and she bit into the lime slice that was in Nick's mouth.

Luke had to rethink his definition of hot, because so far it hadn't included this.

Linda straightened her back, taking the lime wedge from Nick's mouth and chucked what was left of the peel to one side. She looked down at Nick, head tilted slightly, as if considering something and raised her eyebrows. She smiled at him and clambered off, licking the lime juice off her lips.

“Your turn,” she said, gesturing towards Nick.

It took him a minute to start moving again. This was becoming a pattern – he needed to get his brain in gear.

Luke sprinkled salt onto the place Linda had just licked clean and stood for a moment, holding his shot and looking at the man laid down in front of him.

Nick, Nicola, whatever his name was, was pretty much the opposite of Sofia. Where she was blonde, he was dark, where she was cold, he was warm, where she was business suits and hair up in a tight bun, he was boxers and nothing else.

And he was fit as all hell too, which didn't hurt.

Nick lifted his head, probably to see what was taking so long, to find Luke staring at him. He winked.

Luke choked on his laugh and shook his head, smiling. Here goes nothing.

Linda gave Nick a lime wedge.

Climbing back onto the table, Luke could almost feel his heartbeat accelerate and his temperature rise. He sat on Nick's legs and took his time in finding a place for the shot to stand without wobbling too much. He took a breath, smiled to himself and went for it.

Salt, step one. He licked the salt off with long strokes of his tongue, surprised again at how still Nick managed to stay, then, with a nod to Linda, clasped one hand around the other behind his back and sank his shot, step two. He promptly got rid of the glass, face still screwed up at the feel of tequila going down his throat, and went for the lime wedge, step three, to get rid of the taste quickly.

Nick was hot under him, despite the space between his chest and Luke's arched back, and Luke could feel his smile despite the citrus slice. He bit into the lime, his lips millimetres away from Nick's, but resisted the urge and lifted his head up to tear the peel away and swallow the lime flesh. He glanced at the man under him and stopped in his tracks. Nick's eyes were closed, his lips were red and his breaths were quiet, but he opened his eyes and looked up at Luke, tongue flicking out to wet his lips and Luke forgot that he was a customer.

He bent down, back arched at the angle, and kissed Nick full on the lips. His vision swam, and he vaguely wondered how tipsy he was before he closed his eyes.

Slowly, he tested what Nick would allow, a careful press of the tongue against Nick's lips, which, after a moment, opened to let him in. He smiled into the kiss when Nick lifted his head and kissed back in earnest, obviously deciding that participation was the best course of action. Luke most definitely agreed. Their tongues flickered together, learning how the other tasted, exploring the mouths, then coming together to grapple before testing what they liked.

There was a slight noise from the other side of the room, but they ignored it.

Suddenly, Nick stiffened and pulled away.

Luke opened his eyes, and blinked to get used to the flashing lights again.

Nick was frowning slightly, dark brows furrowed, bright eyes narrowed.

“What do you want from me?”

Luke was confused, “Want?”

Nick pushed him back gently, sitting up again.

“What do you expect from me?”

Oh. Luke unconsciously licked his lips and sat back on his haunches. He didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't sure what he wanted, except for another kiss like that.

“I don't know. Nothing. What you want.”

Despite the confusion this answer should have generated, Nick seemed satisfied with it.

“Linda?”

But no answer came. Luke looked up to find the room was empty.

“Gone.” said Luke, unhelpfully.

He shook his head at his own stupidity. Maybe he was drunk already and not just tipsy.

He turned to sit on the ledge of the table, legs hanging down.

Nick did the same, sitting closer to Luke than he would have thought.

“I didn't mean to offend you,” he said, legs and shoulders jerking in time to the beat of the song, “but sometimes people mistake me for something different.”

“Oh.” The thought hadn't even entered Luke's head before this, “You thought I?”

Luke needed to shake this, because his words weren't coming out properly at all.

Nick shrugged apologetically, shifting closer, “I've had to call security before. That's why there are cameras. The Epiphany provides a safe working environment for its employees.”
It sounded like something off a pamphlet.

Luke nodded, deciding that he wasn't going to speak any more if his words didn't do what he wanted them to.

There was a moment of silence before Luke realised he was being watched. Nick was looking at him, head tilted to one side, not unlike the way Linda had looked at Nick a few moments ago.

Luke cleared his throat, “What?”

Nick shot him a grin, “You're hot. Want to dance?”

The lights were still flashing, music was still playing and Nick was still wearing practically nothing, what could Luke do except say yes?

Nick slid off the table, clasped his wrist and tugged him towards the outside dance floor, where the people were.

Nick stopped at the door, one hand on Luke's wrist, the other on the doorknob.

“Ready to be seen dancing with a man?”

How Nick knew didn't even matter.

Luke grinned, “Let's put on a show.”

“Excellent.”

Nick opened the door to the main part of the club.

The music was louder than it had been in the little room, the lights were brighter and the air was hot and humid.

The number of bodies on the dance floor had grown in the while Luke had been in the other room, and now people were in various states of undress and the women in packs had mostly abandoned their friends to dance with whomever was closest.

Nick's hand was still on his wrist and Luke followed the gentle pressure to the bar, where Nick said something to the barman, then into the mass of snaking bodies.

Luke looked over to the poles, where Edo still danced, but now a man with green hair.

“Distracted already?” Nick shouted jokingly above the music.

“Getting to know my audience,” replied Luke.

Nick stopped and let go of Luke, “And what are they like?”

“Eh,” he shrugged, “they're ok. But I'm not dancing with them.”

Finally words were doing what he wanted again.

Nick shook his head, grinning, and the song faded out with an electronic sound like power going down, then into another one with a slightly faster beat.

Nick leaned in close to whisper, “Well then, let's dance.”

And they did.

Nick mouthed the words to the song, and Luke tried to listen to the lyrics so he could look it up later.

One of Nick's hands curled back into Luke's hair and Luke wrapped his arms around him.

He couldn't remember the last time he had had this much fun, he should go out with Edo more often. He slid one hand down Nick's back and laughed, exhaling onto his shoulder, and Nick shivered.

Luke's other hand caressed the goosebumps. Real flesh, warm skin, muscles complimenting his moves – he had missed the warmth that came from people.

Sofia had been cold. Not frigid, but cold. She had circulation issues, she said, which meant her skin was always at a slightly uncomfortable temperature, but Nick clearly did not. They were hip to hip, chest to chest, pressed close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin and to breathe the air he was breathing.

For a moment he closed his eyes and concentrated on Nick's hands and breathing. It was simple. It was nice. Then Nick pulled at his hair.

Luke's eyes flew open and narrowed. His mouth twisted into a predatory smirk and Nick's grin egged him on.

It was a very aggressive kiss. Luke was going to wipe the smirk of Nick's face, and leave him wanting more. Nick seemed more than willing to take what Luke had to give. And yes, he was a man. But Luke wasn't going to make himself care about that, because Nick was hot and willing and making small impatient noises in the back of his throat that Sofia would have bit her tongue and clamped her lips shut to not let escape.

Oh, but Nick. Nick was here and meaningfully pressing against him and warm and here.
Luke broke the kiss to breathe, eyes still closed, taking half an involuntary step back, not escaping the heat but getting himself used to the proximity.
One of Nick's hands was still in his hair stroking his scalp, the other snaking down his back while his tongue flicked at Luke's ear.

Luke greedily grabbed onto Nick's arse, pulling him flush against himself, and attacked him again. God, he couldn't remember the last time Sofia had been this close to him, that should have been a clue. And she never let herself go to sleep until he had turned away from her.

Sofia. Oh God. What was he going to do about Sofia? She was gone.

Luke released his grip on Nick and took half a step backwards, breaking the kiss and almost knocking a very drunk girl off her too-high heels.

“Do you want a drink? I think I want a drink.”

Nick looked confused, but what could he say? 'Sorry, but you hot and gorgeous but you're not my ex? She cheated on me, and don't get me wrong, I hate her for it, but we dated for years, I met her at work and my God, what am I going to do all by myself in that flat?'

“Yeah. A drink.” he repeated.

Sofia. Nick wasn't Sofia. He needed to remember that she was gone.

Nick laced his fingers through Luke's and pulled, leading them to the bar, much as he had lead them onto the dance floor earlier.

“Do we need to talk?” Nick asked, as soon as they were out of the crowd and could speak without shouting.

“Err...I don't know, it's just that-”

And a voice burst out from behind them,“Chaval! Nicola!”

He squeezed Luke's hand and smiled at Edo, who had appeared, seemingly conjured to their side by the loud noises and awkward situation.

“Muchachos!” he exclaimed, clapping Luke on the back, “I see you've met.”

Edo knew Nick. Of bloody course. Edo knew bloody everybody.

He opened his arms and Nick grinned, they shared a big hug.

“You know each other?”
And Luke had gone back to stating the obvious. How utterly excellent.

“Of course!” The accent was lighter than it had been, and he flashed Luke a cheeky smile, “I work behind the bar and he works on top of it!”

Nick laughed and shook his head.

“I do bar shifts as well as bodyshots,” he explained to Luke, “Can't make a living off my abdomen alone.”

“That's why you have a day-job.” Teased Edo.

“Real world?” He blinked in mock-confusion, “What real world?”

Edo smiled and signalled to the bartender.

Luke wanted to clutch his head in his hands – he didn't belong in this moment of banter, he shouldn't even be out.  Where was his drink?

Two coke-and-somethings and a whisky on the rocks appeared a moment later.

Edo frowned when Luke picked up the whisky, but he didn't comment on it, changing the subject instead to include him into the conversation.

“So, knowing you, you didn't choose this particular gorgeous male, which means someone else got you to do bodyshots. Anyone I know?”
Luke shrugged, “A woman.”

“Linda.”

“Aha! And how is our Linda?”

Nick crossed his arms, raised his eyebrows and gave Edo an intense, meaningful look that Luke didn't really understand, “Good, good. She's around the place somewhere.”

“But you won't get lucky, if that's what you're after,” said Luke glancing between the two, “she's here to look for a girl.”

Edo chuckled, “Yeah, ok. Well, I can tell when I'm not wanted.”

“Nick!” someone called out.

There was a moment during which he turned to greet the woman who had called his name – and in that moment Edo grabbed Luke by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

“Do you like Nick?”

The whisky stopped halfway to his lips and he looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“What?”

He sounded more guilty that he should do, he realised. He had nothing to feel guilty for, did he?

“Do you like Nick? Do you think he's a good dancer, do you want to kiss him, should I be looking out for you more?”

Luke shrugged his hands away, “He's nice, you don't need to look out for me. And we kissed, but Sofia-”

“No.” Edo actually looked pissed off, “You do not talk about her in front of me, understand? She was no good for you. She lied and lied, you told me. And she cheated on you, remember? She left you. So you are going to have a good time. With Nick. You kissed, you said?”

Well damn.

“Right.”

He was right.

“Did you like it?”

That wasn't the point.

“Yes, but-”

“There is no 'but', amigo. Sofia is gone.”

Sofia is gone, Sofia is gone, Sofia is gone. He downed his whisky and Edo took the glass from him, placing it gently onto the bar. Sofia had left him. The bitch had left him with nothing but a half-empty flat and bills to pay.

“And the compañero likes you. I can tell. So have fun.”

Yeah. Fun was good. He hadn't felt this good in ages. And Nick was almost bloody perfect.

“It was a good kiss. He did this thing with-”

“Luke, you're my friend, but I don't want to know.”

“Know what?” asked Nick, coming back into the conversation.

“What sordid things you have been up to, that's what. And now, I shall leave you. Have fun, muchachos.”

He winked at Luke and saluted them, disappearing into the crowd in much the same way as he had appeared.

“I wonder what that was about,” Nick finished his drink quickly, “but who cares, right? Ready to go back to the dancefloor?”

And in that moment, Luke thought, with the alcohol at the edge of his vision, he had a choice. He could either walk away, go back to his empty flat and continue to drink himself into such a stupor that he would be feeling the effects for days, or he could dance with the man in front of him and find distraction that way. And though it was an excellent way to be distracted, he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for the fact that it would only be a distraction. He’d never been one for one night stands, really.

He looked at Nick, aware that the pause was becoming quite dramatic.

The other man was waiting expectantly, swirling the ice in his glass, eyes bright in the dark of the club.

The club lights reflected off the bar, throwing blue, green and red onto Nick in quick succession as he fished an ice-cube out and began to suck on it. He looked so damn edible again that Luke had to correct his earlier thought. There would be no guilt. Nick wasn't just a distraction – he was a man. He was so different from Sofia that she wasn't even going to come into this equation, she didn't belong in his life any more – she had removed herself from it. And Nick was standing there, chewing on this piece of ice, waiting for Luke to do something, say something, without knowing any of this.

He took a slow step forward, removed the glass from Nick's grasp and put in on the bar. He placed a hand on either side of Nick's face and moved in close, until their lips were millimetres apart. Nick closed the gap, leaning into him as though that was where he was supposed to be.
The ice melted.

Luke marvelled at how well Nick fit in his arms, at how easily they created intimacy, at how easily the tips of Nick's fingers drew patters on his sides and back, so soft they barely tickled, making him want more. Luke had never been so turned on in his life. It felt so good and Nick pushed closer, clutching Luke so close that he could feel their erections brushing through the fabric, and closer still so that they were rubbing together.
Luke had one arm around Nick's neck, the other hand on his arse again – it was a very fine arse, he thought, loudly – and he didn't think he could stop touching him if his life depended on it. Nick's hands were everywhere, exploring as they hadn't before, and Luke belatedly realised that maybe he'd been waiting for permission. Well fuck. He should have made it clear back in the bodyshot room.

He was tracing tiny circles on the back of Nick's neck, trying to convey his need with his tongue. In response he only got clutched tighter, and the hand almost tearing his shirt off turned into fist. He couldn't hold back a moan.

They didn't stop until one of the patrons at the bar gave a particularly loud catcall.

Nick seemed to have a thing for Luke's hair, because his hands had gone back up to it and were tangled again as they broke away, panting.

“Fuck you're hot.” Whispered Luke, leaning their foreheads together.

A low chuckle answered him, “Are you offering?”

“Hmmm...” Perhaps Nick was onto something, with this hair thing. He was stroking his scalp, doing damage to Edo's hard work and it felt good, “maybe.”

The breath hitched in his throat as a tongue darted out to stroke teeth, almost a promise, and he couldn't seem to catch it again.

“Only maybe?”

The tease. Although, said a voice in his head, making its way through the haze of loud noise and alcohol and sheer awe at what the man in front of him was capable of, it's only teasing if he doesn't follow through.

Nick gave him a confident grin and let a hand slide down from his hair, dropping down between them, stopping it below Luke's stomach, just above the waistband of his trousers, did that smirking thing again, and Luke was itching to kiss the expression away from his face, but couldn't move.

“What if I, hmm,” he smiled to himself, ever-so-slowly letting his hand slip further down, “asked you nicely?”

His hand was on the bulge of Luke's trousers, not pressing, just present, and when Luke tried to press into the heat, Nick stepped back slightly to keep just enough space between them.
Luke's fingers were tensed almost painfully and he was harder than he had ever been.

“Unless you want me to rip those things off and fuck you right here on the counter,” he growled, eyes glinting, “you will go and get your things now and we will leave. I would rather do this without the bartenders watching.”

Nick glanced behind him at the bartender, who was indeed watching them with a knowing smile and interested eyes, grinned at her over his shoulder and gave Luke a quick kiss before squeezing his erection and hurrying off to fetch his things.

The bartender signalled him over and handed him a glass of water.

“Here you go – you look like you could use it.”

“Yeah,” Luke was wearing a stupid smile, “yeah. I need a drink.”

“I haven't seen him like that for a while. Keep him happy, yeah?”

He didn't know what that meant, but the bartender continued.

“Still. You're with Edo. You have to be decent.”

He hadn't even finished his water when Nick came back again, panting, holding a backpack and wearing jeans and a jumper. He took Luke's glass and finished it before he could say anything and shouted goodbye to Eva – apparently the bartender had a name – took him by the hand and damn-near dragged him out of the club.

Edo waved goodbye to them as they neared the door, and the last thing Luke saw in the Epiphany was Linda and Edo grinning at each other.

Nick nodded at the bouncer, who seemed to conjure a cab using only his quick glance onto the street.

“Where do you live?” asked Nick.

“Close.”

“Your place it is, then.”

The cab driver was an elderly bloke with a proper London accent that always made Luke feel comfortable.

“In you get, lads!” he smiled.

“Evening!” said Nick, getting in first, still hand in hand with Luke.

Once they had settled themselves in, the cabbie started going, reaching the end of the street.

“Where to, gentlemen?”

Luke gave his address, stumbling over the street name because Nick had started stroking his hand.

The cabbie smiled and pointedly stared at the traffic lights.

Nick lifted Luke's hand to his mouth and gave it a kiss. He held it in both of his, stroking his palm with his thumbs, staring at him.
Luke swallowed, his throat was too dry.

Nick's tongue darted out to wet his lips and Luke couldn't take his eyes off it as his hand was pulled closer and closer to that delicious mouth. Framed by another smirk, the tongue came out to lick his palm from his wrist up to the pad of his middle finger. Luke had to stifle a moan as Nick swirled his tongue around the tip of his finger, then took it into his mouth, looking meaningfully at him as he sucked lightly, hollowing his cheeks and smiling around the digit.

Luke's brain gave up on him. He got the feeling he should be able to form a longer and more coherent sentence than, “Guh”, but it wasn't going to happen.

Nick was still concentrating on his hand, eyes now closed in what looked like bliss. And that made Luke want him even more.
He pulled his finger out of Nick's mouth with a 'pop' and grabbed the hands that held it.
“You might want to put that mouth to better use.”
And Nick was all over him in a matter of seconds, squashing Luke's hand between them and holding onto his shoulders as though for dear life. Not that he minded, as his free hand was currently full of the woollen fabric of Nick's jumper.

An embarrassed cough from the front of the car distracted them. They looked up to find the cabbie staring awkwardly at the steering wheel, then glancing quickly at the rearview mirror and smiling in relief as he saw they were now separated.

“We've arrived, gents. 13-pounds-70-p.” he said the amount as a whole word.

“Err, yes.” Luke fumbled with his pockets as he and Nick stepped out of the car, “Here you are.”

He handed the driver a twenty pound note, not wanting to stop to check for coins.

“And your change, sir. Have an excellent night, gentlemen.”

Luke turned to find Nick staring at the building as the cab drove off.
It was a tall block of flats, one of the modern ones, street lights glinting off the dark glass, with a hotel-feel to the lobby – Sofia had called it living the high life. Luke just called it expensive.

Now that it was his, though, he wasn't going to move. The flat was in a very convenient place.

“Wow,” murmured Nick, looking up at the topmost floors, “didn't peg you for the type that lives in this kind of place.”
He shrugged, “I'm not, really. It's just the way things turned out.”
Nick nodded, “Yeah, that happens. So,” he turned to face him with a cheeky grin, “please tell me you live in the penthouse suite.”

He laughed walking into the lobby, “No, afraid not.”

Nick walked just behind him, eyes endearingly wide and curious.
The doorman nodded at them.
Once they had reached the lift and were waiting for it to arrive, Nick asked, “Do the people here know?”

“Know what?”

“That you shag men.”

Luke choked on his own spit.

“I don't usually do this.”

Nick nodded, thoughtfully, “I see. Ok.”

The lift arrived and they stepped inside, Luke stabbed at the button, feeling awkward.
“20^th floor, eh? Not bad, Luke.”

His name sounded delicious when it came out of that mouth.

“Are you gay?”

Shit. Not what he'd meant to say. He had planned on being at least slightly more suave than that.

“Does it matter?” asked Nick, shrugging.

“No, of course not.”

“Good.”

He stepped closer to Luke, who was already leaning on the lift's rail, effectively trapping him.

Nick left hand travelled up his neck into his hair – he was going to have to use this hair fetish to his advantage at some point – while the other slithered down his chest, dealing with a couple of the buttons on his shirt before sliding the shirt collar off his shoulder.
Nick kissed him briefly before moving to pepper kisses down his jaw, neck, collarbone...
Thoughts travelled from the camera in the corner to how good it felt to shit the security people are going to see, but Nick didn't seem at all concerned, instead stopping for a moment.
“Why did you-” Nick bit his neck.

Luke forgot where he was when Nick gently licked the spot he had just bitten and pulled slightly harder on his hair to gain better access to his neck. Luke's head tilted as directed.

“20^th floor,” announced the lift cheerfully, “doors opening.”

Luke grabbed Nick's shoulders and pushed them out of the lift, to the right and onto his front door.

He had shoved him against the door quite hard, but Nick didn't seem to care as he was distractedly trying to undo Luke's trousers, Luke's hands either side of his head.

Keys, keys, keys.

“Stop, one moment.” He breathed, reaching down into his pocket.
Why did putting a key in a lock have to be so complicated?
Nick was sucking on the spot he had bitten in the lift, there would definitely be a bruise in the morning, but then the door finally swung open and Luke grabbed him by the arse and almost picked him up in the rush to get inside, stumbling all the way to the kitchen table.

Nick dropped his backpack. His breath was still sweet as he laughed though his last drink was ages ago, at the Epiphany, and Luke laughed with him at the intensity and awkwardness of it all.

“Bedroom?” Nick murmured, settling himself properly on the table and pushing Luke's shirt off him, “I don't mind the bruises, but I'd rather we were on something soft.”

Luke stepped away from the hands and the mouth and the – fuck – tongue, they were too distracting, grabbed the bottom of Nick's jumper and hauled it off him, t-shirt with it, chucking them both onto the nearest chair.
Now that was more like it, he thought, grinning at the sight of his flushed chest, the pink spanning from just above his ribs up to his neck.

Nick gave a slightly shyer smile than he was expecting, but pulled Luke towards him with a hand on his hip.

Luke noticed the scratchiness of stubble on his chin as the kiss deepened – something he hadn't experienced for a while – and they were hip-to-shoulder as Nick wrapped a leg around the back of Luke's.

A pause. A breath. A smile, and again. It was slower than before, slightly more intimate, more about exploring than the desperate need for contact that it had been coming in.

Somewhere between the meeting of the lips and the hands in his hair and the warmth of Nick's chest, it took Luke a while to register than they had slowly stumbled their way into the bedroom.

There was a moment of indecision, but hell, he had come this far. And Nick was amazing. Seeming to sense his hesitation, Nick bit what Luke was now going to call 'that spot'. Fuck, that was good.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bedroom was in the same mess he had left it in after tearing through it once he'd found the letter, but Nick didn't seem to be put off by this at all. He was ignoring it completely and concentrating on Luke. Which Luke found was an excellent idea.

He kissed harder, made his actions more deliberate, unzipped Nick's jeans and gave him enough space to take them off, but was back to clutching at him the moment they were gone.

A moment of rubbing together, mouths coming together, teeth clashing at the speed with which they lunged at each other, Luke enjoying the feel of Nick's cock on his thigh and the heat that the other man gave off.
Nick didn't bother stepping away to let Luke take his trousers and boxers off, he just tugged them down and pushed him onto the bed.

Luke smiled as he looked up to see Nick removing his underwear and getting onto the bed knees first.

“Aggressive, eh?”

A predatory smile as he crawled towards him, “Sometimes. Why, do you like it?”

Nick's face was inches away from his and his breaths made the hairs on his neck stand on end, goosebumps of anticipation.

“Sometimes.”

A smile, followed by the chastest kiss he had ever received, but he was too far away to do anything more than press his lips against Nick's, who stroked up his side and felt him moan.

Nick's eyes closed at the first touch, but opened when Luke tried to get him to lean down.

He nervously chewed his bottom lip as he watched Nick's pupils dilate.

“Condom?”

Luke blinked, Nick was too close for him to think properly, “Condom?”

Nick waited, expectantly.

“Condom! Yes.”

Nick sat back as Luke rolled over to the night stand and pulled out a couple of condoms and a tube of lubricant.

He handed both to Nick and watched as he glanced at the label.

He looked to him, “Spermicidal. You're bi.”

Luke shrugged, detecting no judgement, just a statement.

Nick put the tube down, rummaging around for lube that wouldn't kill the condom, “How do you want to do this?”

Luke wet his lips.

“Umm, it's been a while.”

Nick ran a hand down Luke's chest, “Yes?”

“I think...”

A pause. Nick's hand reached his cock, and Luke curved into the touch.

“Ok.”

Nick smiled. Luke didn't need to explain out loud. Nick leaned down, took his mouth as if he had a right to it – and with kisses like that, maybe he did – and stroked up the shaft with one hand, the other still supporting him as Luke greedily grabbed his arse again.

Nick removed his hand, Luke let out a sound of disappointment, but stopped propping himself up, instead leaning down, into him, pressing at him. Heat, warmth, contact.

Luke moaned out loud as Nick shifted against him to press kisses across his shoulder.

The chuckle was muffled against his collarbone as Nick slithered back down his body, licking, sucking, kissing spots Luke hadn't known to be sensitive until that moment as he tried not to squirm.

There was a warm breath on his cock and Luke pushed up, expectantly.

He propped himself up on his elbows when nothing happened, only to find Nick smirking at him from about an inch above the head of his cock.

“What?”

Nick kept looking at him while he unwrapped the condom. Luke tried to keep his breathing even, but it was all he could hear. His breath hitched as Nick rolled the condom down onto him, still watching his reactions.

One hand at the base of his cock, the other on his hipbone, stroking lightly.

And then came the tongue. That wicked tongue that Luke had so appreciated earlier was doing amazing things as it curled around the tip of his cock. Down his shaft and up again, then he closed his lips around it and sucked.

Nick's eyes were still on Luke, whose elbows had just given out on him and whose eyes were currently closed.

He had forgotten how good men could be at giving head, they knew what it was like to be on the receiving end and that often made all the difference. He tried to prop himself back up, wanting to watch, but all he could see was the top of Nick's head, bobbing up and down and Christ do that again and was that a scrape of teeth?

He could practically feel Nick smiling around his cock as he leant further down and sucked more into his mouth, down his throat.

Luke jerked up involuntarily, but Nick took it in his stride, and he idly wondered if the man even had a gag reflex and gripped the pillow behind his head so he didn't grip Nick's hair and fuck Nick just swallowed around him.

Thought disappeared for long minutes under the assault of those hands and that mouth and that tongue on his cock and balls.

Guh, more, oh God was about as coherent as Luke was going to get.

He was getting closer, and heat coiled tightly in the pit of his stomach and it was lucky Nick was holding his hips down because otherwise Luke would have fucked his mouth with abandon despite trying to hold back.

So close, so close, and white was beginning to appear behind his eyelids and then, “Fuck! Why did you stop?”

That smirk again. Luke was going to have to wipe it off his face somehow.

“Not yet.”

Nick peeled the condom off, tied it and chucked it, with an aim Luke was envious of, into the bin next to the night stand. He opened another packet and rolled it on – Luke had a moment of confusion, but he assumed Nick knew what he was doing – and crawled back up to his face.

“Good?”

“So good.”

Luke let go of the pillow and brought the hand around the back of Nick's neck and pulled him closer. The kiss was more demanding than the previous one, but Luke was harder than he could ever remember being and it was all Nick's sexy fault. Yes.

Nick slid a hand up his chest and gripped his shoulder, while the other one groped around looking for the lube.

Luke nipped at his lip, successfully distracting Nick from his search. He crushed them together, bodies twining as he rolled them over.

Nick laughed, pulling away slightly, “Aggressive, eh?”

Luke didn't bother replying, just attacked his mouth again. Gathering up his courage, he ran a hand down Nick's side, from rib to knee, before bringing it up to play with the hair that went from navel to cock, treasure trail indeed. He squeezed Nick's erection, using his thumb to circle the head and spread some of the precome down it.

He reached for the tube that had been abandoned on the other side of the bed and opened it, squeezing some of the lube out onto his fingers.

 He concentrated on moving his hand slowly down the cock, gently caressing his balls, further down as Nick spread his legs, pressing against his perineum and sliding a lubricated finger between his cheeks.

A moan, though Luke couldn't tell who made the sound, Nick arched up into him, and the pleasure of having done something right clenched in his chest.

He could do this. It had been a while, but he could do this. He grabbed one of the pillows from the head of the bed and placed it under Nick's hips, who only spread his thighs further.

Luke gently rubbed around his hole, watching Nick get frustrated when he didn't push in.

“Come on!”

Luke leaned up to kiss him, eyes half-lidded. He slowly pushed a finger in at the same as his tongue pushed into the waiting mouth. Nick hummed his approval.

Another finger, slowly, twisting and stretching. Nick wriggled and pushed against him. Luke took that to mean he wanted more, but went carefully, applying more lube before continuing, his other hand spreading the lube onto his own cock.

In, out, twist, scissor, in, out. Another finger, same rhythm. In, out, twist.

Nick was writhing again, trying to make him move faster and turned his head to break the kiss.
“What, are you scared?”

It was a taunt, but there was no heat behind it, just frustration at the pace.

Luke mirrored Nick's earlier smirk and twisted in again. Nick gave a gasp. Excellent.

He let out a growl and pushed Luke over, grabbed the lube and squirted some out onto his cock before throwing the tube away. Luke moved the pillow that used to be under Nick behind him, so he was propped up, half sitting and half leaning on the headboard.

Nick was on his knees. He positioned himself with slow, deliberate movements, taking control. If Luke had stopped to analyse his feelings – which didn't happen, because really, there was a fucking gorgeous man lowering himself onto his cock, who gave a damn about feelings – he would have felt relieved at the fact that Nick was a little bit commanding as it meant he didn't have to worry about doing things wrong.

“Ready?”

Luke couldn't nod fast enough. He felt the tip of his cock breaching Nick and let out a shaky breath. This was happening. Luke stroked his back in what he hoped was a soothing and encouraging way because very little would have persuaded him to stop at this point.

Further in, millimetre by millimetre, down and then up again, working himself onto Luke's cock, until Nick was sitting in his lap, head on his shoulder, shuddering. Luke was surrounded by heat and yes it felt so good to be close to someone again. He hugged Nick close, their sweat cooling slightly.

“Don't move,” Nick whispered, his breath hot in Luke's ear, “give me a moment.”

Luke kissed along his shoulder, letting Nick adjust. He could feel the erratic beat of both their hearts and their slowing pants.

Then Nick moved. It was just a small, measured circle of the hips, but still. And again.
Luke was making noises he hadn't known he was capable of making and Nick's whimpers were quiet in his ears.
Nick slid up a couple of inches then let himself drop down, further up then down, until it was a rhythm, until Luke pushed up to meet him, until Nick's hands clutched at his shoulders almost painfully as his fingers dug into them.
Luke moved his hips in a certain way, trying to get in deeper, he needed more heat, harder, until Nick let out a strangled moan and his head dropped backwards, back arched.
Luke closed his eyes. Fuck. The white behind his closed eyelids was back.

Nick was gorgeous, panting and sweating. Luke thrust in again, harder, trying to get that reaction once more and pulled on his cock. A drop of sweat rolled down Nick's neck as he tangled a hand into Luke's hair, tugging, nearly hard enough to hurt. Luke licked the drop away and then, remembering the number of times Nick had done it to him, bit, hard.

Nick stiffened and cried out, coming, the muscles in his arse clenching hard. Luke bit harder to muffle his own cry as the white behind his eyelids exploded into a million colours.

It took Luke a few minutes to open his eyes again. Nick was panting into the curve of his shoulder. They untangled themselves from each other, limbs refusing to cooperate and bones creaking.

He carefully knotted the condom and put it in the bin, making a mental note that he would likely forget to empty the bin in the morning.

Nick made a soft noise, which Luke chose to interpret as, “Come here”. Luke wrapped his arms around him and moved them so they could lie down.
He felt much happier than he had in a long time.

Nick was stroking the skin just below his ribs and he could feel both of their chests rising and falling with their breaths.

The last thing he heard before he went to sleep was a slightly breathless laugh.

“Not bad, new boy, not bad at all.”