Under the Bridge (4 page)

“I’m gone tomorrow.” Nick curved a hand
around Chris’s back. Chris took that as invitation to press closer,
so he slid in next to him. There wasn’t a mattress down here but he
wouldn’t have used one anyway. They were good like this.

“That’s why you did this now,” Chris murmured
sleepily. Nick was leaving, that’s why he’d done this. It
did
hurt, deep inside Chris’s chest it hurt, which was weird
because it felt good at the same time, warm and careful around his
racing heart.

“I didn’t mean to. You looked… I just wanted
to talk to you.” Nick sounded like he meant it. Chris wrinkled his
nose.

“Write to me.” He didn’t care if it was
bossy.

“God.” Nick could have been swearing, or
praying. “I can’t say no to you.” He looked up and shivered.

“Are you cold?” Chris moved in even closer.
“Do you want your jacket back?”

“No.” It was all Nick seemed able to say.
Chris exhaled as he burrowed down into Nick’s leather jacket and
got comfortable against Nick’s shoulder. That was how their
sleepovers had always ended, Chris curled into Nicky, Nicky wrapped
around him. Nick held still for another minute and then turned
toward him and let out a long breath as he relaxed.

“Nicky?” Chris exhaled with him.

“Yeah?” He couldn’t tell if Nick was wide
awake or not, but he wasn’t moving. He wouldn’t. Not for a few
hours anyway.

“Did you hold the girls like this?” Chris was
starting to get used to this hard to breathe feeling inside of him,
maybe even like it. It made him think of Nick.

Nick shook his head then stopped. “No, they
all had homes to go to.” He seemed old for a second, or just really
tired. Chris played with Nick’s hair, inhaled the air around him
for a while. Chris had a home to go to too, but he didn’t say
it.

“You know where my home is,” he said instead,
“and when I’ll be there.” It was hard to feel pathetic when he was
so warm, and Nick was terrible at breaking hearts because he just
nodded. Chris couldn’t tell if it was the jacket or just Nick
making him feel like this, but he rubbed his face into Nick’s
shoulder.

“If you try to take your jacket back I’m
going to kick your ass,” he commented around a smile and enjoyed
Nick’s startled laugh.

“Take good care of it, all right?” Nick was
quiet when he was done laughing. Chris nodded against him, minding
his sore eye. He put a hand over Nick’s chest.

“This is going to hurt in the morning,” he
observed as wisely as he could and Nick shuddered but snuck a hand
under the jacket and Chris’s shirt to rest his palm on Chris’
stomach. When Chris didn’t say anything he let it rest there, where
it slowly grew heavier. Chris was mostly asleep when Nick finally
answered.

“It hurts now, Chris.”

Chris wanted to taste the words with a kiss.
He’d bet they tasted hot and sweet and metallic. He immediately
took the thought back. He wanted to make the words go away, or at
least kiss them better.

“Sorry.” But he didn’t move other than to
curl his hand into Nick’s skin. Nick didn’t move either except to
breathe heavily and slowly slide down to settle against him. Then
Chris closed his eyes, because the world kept spinning.

The End

###

About the author:

R.
Cooper is a big ole dork who is pretty much always writing even if
that writing isn’t always fit for printing. She loves shameless
sluts and brave heroes and eye patches and spies and space pirates
and werewolves and writes about many of these things.

To find more of Chris and Nicky, or
information on any of my other works, please visit my journal
http://r-cooper.livejournal.com/

Cover art by
paraxdisepink