Alex stood up slowly after finishing the bottle of water. His shirt clung slightly to his skin, a mix of sweat and the oppressive humidity that clung to every surface in this dead-end town. But it wasn't the heat of the summer night that made his heart pound like a drum in his chest.
It was Nicolas. Again.
He could feel him before he even heard him speak. Like some strange, magnetic pull Alex didn't want to acknowledge.
"You good? Ready to head out?" Nico asked.
Alex turned his head just enough to catch the glow of the streetlight dancing across Nico's cheekbones. "Yeah," he said, voice low. "Thanks for the water."
"Don't mention it." Nico's tone was light.
They weren't touching, but they might as well have been. Nico stood close enough for Alex to feel the faint warmth of his skin. Every nerve ending in Alex's body sparked to life, hypersensitive, betraying him in ways he didn't want to admit.
"I need to stop by the hotel first," Nico added. "Left the car there… and the keys."
A visual Alex hadn't asked for flashed across his mind. Nico alone in a dimly lit hotel room, the sharp lines of his body, the way he used to imagine him late at night when shame tasted like want.
"Alright then, let's go," Alex said too quickly.
He tried to focus as Nico stepped off the curb, but his legs didn't cooperate. One misstep and he stumbled. Hard.
"Whoa!" Nico's arms wrapped around him before he hit the pavement. The contact jolted through Alex like electricity. "You okay? It seems you had more than a bit to drink."
Alex froze. Nico's fingers gripped his arm, strong but steady. The casual concern was worse than judgment. It was intimate. It cut through the carefully stacked layers Alex had built over the years.
"I'm okay," he rasped, but even he didn't believe it.
He should've pulled away but he didn't.
They walked in silence toward the parking lot behind the school, gravel crunching under their feet.
Fantasies long buried stirred. Dangerous ones he'd buried under law school, expectations, and being the mayor's son who never makes mistakes.
"Which one's yours?" he asked, more to distract himself than out of interest.
Nico gestured. "Dark blue. That one over there."
Alex blinked. "That's yours? A freaking BMW?"
Nico shrugged casually. "Yeah."
"I guess the boring work you do really paid off." He kept his tone neutral, but a twinge of envy snuck through.
Nico only smiled, like money meant nothing. Like none of this meant anything.
When they reached the room, Nico unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Keys are just inside."
Alex should've stayed outside. That would've been the smart and safe thing to do. Instead, he walked in without thinking.
The chill of the air-conditioning hit his flushed skin. He felt breathless—no, worse—trapped.
Nico moved deeper into the room, disappearing behind a dresser. The space was simple, looked a bit old but not cheap. A king-sized bed dominated the center, the covers a little messy. Alex tried not to look at it but he failed.
Then Nico's scent hit him, a mixture of cologne and something sweet. Alex's pulse slammed in his ears and every step he took forward felt like stepping off a cliff.
And then...he snapped.
He grabbed Nico's wrist and spun him around, slamming him back against the door before he could react.
Nico's eyes widened, but he didn't push him away. He didn't say no or ask him to let him go.
Alex's body pressed against his, every inch of him trembling. Their faces were close enough to kiss and he felt the hard bulge in Nico's jeans. This was real and there was no denying it now.
What the hell was he doing?
Nico's fingers curled around his hips, steadying him. Pulling him closer. One hand slid lower, cupping the swell of Alex's ass through his jeans. A soft, possessive squeeze.
"Fuck," Alex muttered, barely holding on to sanity.
Every rule he'd lived by, every shameful, buried thought...all of it was unraveling in Nico's hands.
He ground forward, a steady rhythm that threatened to undo him completely.
"Slow down, relax," Nico whispered next to his ear.
Soft lips nibbled on his earlobe. The scratch of slight stubble against his face was a sharp reminder of what he was doing, but he couldn't stop now.
He didn't want to stop.