Reed's POV
"Is that all?" He asked lazely dragging his eyes down my body. "Aren't you gonna show me your room, reed?" He asked a bit curiously
I gave him a look. "You planning to steal something?"
"Maybe. Or maybe I just wanna see where you sleep." I rolled my eyes but turned anyway, heading down the short hall. "You're nosy, you know that?"
"Curious," he corrected, following close enough that I could feel his warmth at my back. "Big difference."
When we stepped into my room, his gaze on the paintings on the wall some old, some new covered the space. A few portraits and sketches from deployment, and one or two fan arts I'd done after too many nights spent playing Call of Duty. He walked in quietly his hands in his pockets, taking everything in.
"You painted these?"
"Yeah." I scratched the back of my neck. "Helps keep me sane or close enough." He looked at one piece for a long moment, a stormy battlefield done in dark reds and greys.
"You've got a lot of layers, Reed."
"Most people just see the rough edges."
"I see both," he said softly
"Still, i think you're just here to snoop" I say trying to lighten the mood and he smirked.
"Oh, I'm definitely snooping. i knew you were talented, but not these talented"
"Careful," I said, "that almost sounded like a compliment."
"Don't get used to it," he stopped the second his eyes landed on the photo of me and Lucy shoulder to shoulder, her grin wide and my arm slung around her.
"Who's she?" He asked, "Your girlfriend?" I bit back a smirk.
"Lucy? Hell no. She's like a sister who annoys me just as much too." He hummed, but his jaw ticked.
"Funny, didn't look very sibling-like in that picture." I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms.
"You jealous, Nicholas?" He scoffed.
"Of course not." Then quieter, he said "She's pretty though."
"Yeah," I said, watching him. "But she's not you." I say and that shut him up. For a second, he just stared at me and I felt the air get heavier and thicker. Then he looked away, muttering,
"Still hate how smooth you are."
"Funny," I said, stepping closer. "You didn't hate it eight years ago." His head snapped up to mine, his eyes narrowing
"Careful, Reed," he said, and I caught it the slight tremor in his voice
"Why?" I asked, pushing off the wall. "Afraid of what you'll do if I keep talking?" He let out a breath, one of those through-the-nose exhales that meant I was getting to him.
"I'm not the same person you used to know," he said finally.
"Yeah," I said softly, stepping closer until there was barely space between us. "Neither am I. But you still look at me like you remember every damn thing I did to you." He flexed jaw his eyes flicked to my mouth just for a second before he turned away again.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that?"
"Yeah," I murmured, smirking just a little. "But you liked the view." The silence that followed was awkward and electric.
"You still think you can just charm your way through everything, huh?"
"Not everything," I said, glancing up at him. "Just you."
He and I didn't move, we stood there pretending the tension in the room wasn't choking. He moved towards me his fingers curling around the back of my neck, and said in a voice that wasn't quite steady,
"Fuck it."
The next second his mouth was on mine, he pushed me back until I hit the edge of the couch, and his hands were on me like he was trying to memorize every inch he'd lost. I yanked his shirt over his head, my breath catching at the sight of the scars scattered across his chest
"Still beautiful," I muttered against his skin. He huffed out something like a laugh, half-breathless.
"You always did talk too much."
"Yeah?" I murmured, nipping his jaw. "Guess I'll shut up then." He groaned, dragging me down with him, our bodies fitting together. His hand slid to the back of my head, holding me there, deepening the kiss until I forgot where I ended and he began. When we finally broke apart, he was breathing hard.
"You should shower," he rasped, "You smell like motor oil and cigarette" I grinned, still dizzy.
"Stay while I do. Unless you're scared of being alone with your thoughts." He rolled his eyes but didn't answer. He sat back on the couch, chest rising and falling, a smirk tugging at his lips.
I walked toward the bathroom, I felt his gaze follow me heavy and possessive. I turned in the doorway, water already hissing in the background. I turned on the shower letting the water heat up before stepping in. I'd barely closed my eyes when I heard the door creak.
"You seriously just left me sitting there?" Nicholas's voice came through, half amused and I cracked an eye open.
"You could've turned on the TV, you know. I wasn't planning on being gone long."
"TV doesn't have what I'm looking for," he said, leaning against the doorframe. His shirt was half untucked, and he looked too damn good to be standing there like that.
"You got hot water in there?"
"Yeah" I muttered. "You planning on joining or just supervising?" He snorted but didn't move right away. I heard him sigh, then the sound of fabric; his belt, trousers and sweater. I didn't turn around until I felt the curtain shift.
"Didn't think you'd actually take me up on it," I said.
"Didn't think I'd still care this much," he said simply.
For a minute, we just stood there. The water hit his shoulders, rolled down the ink on his arms, and I couldn't look away. It was quiet but not not awkward.
"You still using that shitty soap?" he asked finally.
"Yep." he huffed a laugh.
"Of course you are." His hand brushed mine when he reached for it.
"You missed a spot," he said, and before I could answer, he started rubbing the lather onto my shoulder like it was nothing.
"You always gotta be in control, huh?" I said lightly, just to break the tension.
"Someone's gotta make sure you do it right" he shot back and that made me laugh. I turned around, and suddenly we were face to face, steam curling between us.
"Nick…" He looked up, eyes softer now.
"Yeah?"
"I missed this," I said, and he swallowed.
"Yeah. Me too." He kissed me slowly like we had time this time. When we pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing a little too fast.
"Still think I shouldn't have joined you?" he murmured.
"Ask me again in five minutes," I said, and he laughed.