Nick blushed and lowered his head, chewing on his lip. He shrugged. “He was . . . like this big shining beacon. For a long time I was a little in love with the idea of him. The idea of that kind of loyalty and trust for the rest of your life, you know? I think it was mostly just being young and wanting to believe in something. You know Ty. He was easy to believe in.”
Kelly nodded. “Are you still in love with him?”
Nick was already shaking his head. He came around the other side of the bed and sat, leaning against the headboard so Kelly couldn’t see his face without twisting. “We went through too much. Nothing romantic about it. And the night I kissed him, the night I told you about everything, there was nothing there. We would have worked if we’d wanted to, I guess, if we’d never found anything else. But . . .” He shrugged and shook his head.
Kelly turned to try to see Nick’s face. “So there’s nothing left there?”
“Nah. It’s kind of a relief. Life changes what love means, you know? What I felt about Ty, it was a different kind of love.”
“Have you found something else?” Kelly asked carefully, surprised by how nervous the question made him.
Nick looked at him oddly. “I don’t know. Why are you asking me these things? This isn’t some sort of post-gunshot meltdown, is it, ’cause I’m not built to handle those.”
Kelly began to snicker, holding his chest so it wouldn’t hurt. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“If it is, we’ll call Owen; he’s good at the meltdown stuff.”
“I’m not having a meltdown,” Kelly assured him. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Nick was silent, sitting there and looking confused for a few seconds before answering. “Sort of. We haven’t had a date or anything, but we’re . . . actually, I’m not sure what we are.”
The indecisive answer bolstered Kelly’s courage and relieved him, which was an odd sensation. “Hey, Irish?”
Nick turned to him, the beginnings of a smile on his face.
“Will you kiss me?”
The smile faded into wide-eyed shock. Nick’s eyes were so green he almost looked like a cartoon. Kelly began to laugh. He had to hold his hand over his wound, but he couldn’t stop laughing. He reached out to put his other hand on Nick’s arm. “I’m sorry I’m laughing,” he wheezed. “It’s the drugs, I swear.”
Nick snorted and gently peeled Kelly’s fingers off his forearm. “From now on you only get halves,” he mumbled. He slid off the bed, beginning to chuckle.
“Wait!”
Nick turned, trying to look annoyed but still laughing. Kelly schooled his features, frowning dramatically. “I’m serious,” he managed to say.
“Yeah, you look it,” Nick drawled.
“I want you to kiss me.”
Nick examined him, seeming dubious.
“I want to know what it feels like to kiss a guy. And you’ve had a lot of practice, so I know you’re a good kisser.”
“Are you simultaneously complimenting me and calling me a whore?”
“I’m . . . I’m just impressed you can take half a Percocet and say simul . . . simultaneous.”
Nick sighed heavily, fighting back his smile. He came around the end of the bed and sat next to Kelly’s hip, turning to hover over him. “Okay.”
Kelly was surprised when his stomach flipped, but he liked the feeling. “Okay what?”
“Okay. If you want me to kiss you, I will.”
“Really?”
Nick nodded. “But only if you can sit up on your own, and then pass a field sobriety test.”
Kelly rolled his eyes and snorted. “You’re such a dick.”
“I’ll give you that too if you want it,” Nick said, laughing as he pushed off the bed and headed for the loft steps.
Kelly watched him, trying to decide if the flip in his stomach was excitement or nerves. “Hey!”
Nick stopped at the head of the staircase and turned again, ever patient.
“I’m serious,” Kelly said.
Nick’s eyes narrowed, and he remained there for a few moments before he moved slowly back to the bed. “You really want me to kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ll know what it feels like to kiss a guy.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Well you and Ty both seem to enjoy it. What’s good for you is good for me, right?”
“That’s a horrible reason.”
“Really?”
Nick sat down again, close enough that the mattress dipped and Kelly slid toward him. They stared at each other for a few seconds, Kelly holding his breath as Nick thought it through. He was curious, because he knew locking lips with another dude had to be different from kissing a woman, and he was by nature an inquisitive person. He was open to trying just about anything once, and he’d always kind of been on the fence about it. But he was also wondering what it would be like to kiss Nick, and that had nothing to do with the painkillers or his innate desire to try new things.
“Okay,” Nick said quietly. He adjusted the way he was sitting, propping one hand on Kelly’s other side as he leaned over him.
Kelly held up a finger. “No half-assed middle school kissing, either.”
“Okay.”
“I want the whole deal.”
“This is starting to feel like I’m leasing a car or something.”
“I’m serious, I want the Irish special.”
Nick rolled his eyes and glanced up at the ceiling. “Fine. Jesus.”
Kelly nodded, his lips twitching on a smile and his chest fluttering. They stared at each other as Nick leaned over him, and it was harder for Kelly to catch his breath as he waited for Nick to make his move. He licked his lips.
Nick finally laughed. “Close your eyes.”“Why?”
“’Cause I can’t do this with you looking at me.”
Kelly gave a long-suffering sigh, but he closed his eyes anyway, still fighting a smile. He felt Nick lean closer, and he inhaled sharply, holding his breath as Nick’s lips brushed the corner of his mouth.
He parted his lips and tilted his head, their noses bumping as Nick moved the same way. They both laughed and Kelly cocked his head the other way, dragging his lower lip across Nick’s as they adjusted. Then Nick was kissing him. Really kissing him. His lips parted, tongue darting between them to lick at Kelly’s lips. His teeth closed over Kelly’s lower lip and dragged before his tongue slipped inside Kelly’s mouth.
They both moaned.
Kelly reached up and grabbed a handful of Nick’s shirt, barely realizing he’d done it. His knuckles knocked against hard muscles. Nick’s hand came up to Kelly’s face, brushing his cheek tentatively as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch. Kelly nipped at his lip, and Nick groaned again. He pushed his hand under Kelly’s head and clutched at his hair.
The stubble on Nick’s chin scratched against Kelly’s cheek. Nick leaned more on top of him, his hands clamping down in the kind of grip Kelly had never felt from a lover. The kiss was more forceful and demanding than any he’d ever experienced, and he found himself using his tongue and his teeth to fight back, even as he pulled Nick closer to urge him on.
Kelly’s hand pressed against Nick’s chest, and it wasn’t even odd that there was nothing but muscle to grab there. He moaned again, and the sound traveled through his body, awakening the rest of him to the moment, to the scent of guns instead of roses, the brush of leather instead of lace.
Kelly gasped as Nick began to pull away. He didn’t have the strength yet to sit up to follow. Their lips dragged as they separated. Nick’s fingers released Kelly’s hair and slid out from under him as he pushed himself up. Kelly finally opened his eyes, but he didn’t let go of Nick’s shirt. His heart was hammering and his mind was churning, making him light-headed.
“Well,” Kelly finally breathed. “No shit.”
Nick laughed and ran his thumb across his lip. Kelly knew him well enough to know when Nick was nervous, and he was nervous now. He tightened his grip on Nick’s shirt to keep him from getting up. Nick turned hesitant green eyes on him, waiting for his verdict. Kelly had never really appreciated the color of Nick’s eyes.
“Do that again,” he whispered.
Nick took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly, like he was trying to calm himself. He patted Kelly’s hand, taking it in his and gently extricating his shirt. “Let’s just let that one settle with the Percocet, okay?”
He made to stand, and Kelly was forced to let him go.
“Yeah, okay.”
Nick was walking away, running a hand through his hair, and Kelly realized his entire body was still buzzing. It might have been from the painkillers, but he was willing to place bets on his buddy right now.
It was the same feeling he got when his phone rang. The same feeling as waking up in the hospital to find Nick holding his hand. The same warmth of a blanket wrapping around his shoulders, and something inside him screamed for him to pursue it.
“Hey, Nick,” he whispered.
Nick stopped and rolled his neck, like he might have been irritated by Kelly’s repeated attempts to keep him from descending the stairs. He turned, though, the same easy smile on his face, his feelings masked by his legendary patience.
“Is the rest of it like that too?” Kelly asked.
Nick ran his teeth across his lip, beginning to nod. “Isn’t it always if you have the right dance partner?”
Kelly stared at him, finding himself nodding. Jesus, was it possible he was considering Nick O’Flaherty a dance partner right now? Yes. Yes, he was.
“You’re not going to ask me to fuck you now, are you?” Nick asked, deadpan.
Kelly began to laugh. “The thought was crossing my mind.”
Nick’s smile faded. “Are you serious?”
“Sort of. You got the engine revved a little.”
Nick rolled his eyes and turned toward the stairs. “Put him back in the garage then. I don’t drive automatics,” he said as he thumped down the stairs.
Nick woke with a jerk as a hand grabbed at his arm. He peered over in the moonlight. “You okay?”
“I need to move,” Kelly grunted.
They’d shared enough beds—and floors—over the years that Nick knew Kelly slept on his side. Being forced to sleep flat on his back made him restless and miserable, but he hadn’t recovered the strength in his torso yet to roll onto his side without help or something to grab onto and pull.
Nick fumbled for the pillows he’d stacked between them and tossed them to the foot of the bed, rolling onto his side and holding his arm out. “Come on.”
Kelly used Nick’s forearm to pull himself to his side, and as soon as he was settled, Nick took the spare pillows and wedged them behind Kelly’s back to rest against. He was hyperaware of how close he was, of his breaths hitting Kelly’s cheek as he reached across him. Goddammit, why had he even agreed to that kiss in the first place? Now the next day or so would be awkward as hell as he tried to forget how fucking good Kelly felt in his arms.
Once he was certain there was support behind Kelly, he took the pillow he’d been using and pushed it against Kelly’s chest to give him something to hold.
“I don’t need that,” Kelly mumbled. He shoved the pillow back toward the head of the bed.
Nick scowled. “You always hold something when you sleep.”
“I’m not taking your pillow. Quit it.”
Nick huffed and laid back down, facing Kelly. He watched him for several minutes, alert for signs of pain or misery, waiting for his breathing to even out. It didn’t though, and finally Kelly opened his eyes again.
“You hurting?” Nick asked him.
“A little. Not enough to take anything. I just can’t sleep.”
Nick remained silent, waiting for Kelly to go on. If he needed to get something off his chest, he would. And Nick had a feeling he knew exactly what Kelly needed to discuss.
“It was a good kiss,” Kelly finally said.
Nick huffed a laugh. “Yes, it was.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m a fabulous kisser and you’re easy.”
Kelly rolled his eyes.
Nick watched and waited, but finally he got tired of the weighty silence. “Are you asking me if it means you’re gay if you liked one kiss?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I don’t have any answers. I’m leaning toward no.”
Kelly sighed loudly. “I still want you to do it again. Does that matter?”
Nick’s chest fluttered. He had to fight for enough breath to answer. “You mean does it matter in the grand scheme of things?”
“I mean does it matter to you?”
Nick caught his breath, afraid to break the silence as they stared across the dim inches. He had spent years trying to avoid thinking of his closest friends in a sexual way. It had been especially difficult with Kelly at first, because they were both touchy-feely people. Eventually, years of camaraderie had whitewashed the physical nature of their friendship, but that one fucking kiss had taken down those mental barriers in a heartbeat. Did it matter to him that Kelly might be struggling with his sexual identity after all these years? Yes. Did it matter to him that Kelly had chosen him to try to help him answer those questions? Yes.
Did it matter to him that he wanted nothing more than to grab Kelly’s face and kiss him again until neither of them could breathe, that he wanted to feel Kelly’s body against his now, that his mind had gone into overdrive and couldn’t seem to stop spinning the moment Kelly’s fingers had grasped at his T-shirt? Did it matter that Kelly was saying he wanted the same thing? “It does matter to me.”