Bubbles and whiskey
The receptionist informed him Aiden had been staying in room 201 and that he could find Ophelia in the gymnasium, probably getting ready for her next class. The gymnasium was massive, two stories tall with plywood floors and moving sections that separated each class. Angels taught humans all kinds of martial arts and acrobatics, as well as most Olympic sports and other indoor activities. Judging by how full it was, this seemed like the kind of place that was always bustling with life. Not knowing who Ophelia was would make finding her much more difficult. The first thing Nathaniel did was stop a nearby angel and ask after her. They informed him she taught fencing and was probably on one of the strips in a corner of the gym. It shouldn’t be too hard to spot it since her section was one of the most spacious ones.
He found her alone, in between classes, donning her fencing gear without the helmet. She’d been tidying up a bit when he approached, putting some épées away, making space for the next batch of students. His presence cut a smile across her face, two hands coming up for a handshake, unusual.
“Nathaniel, welcome to our resort.” Her voice was low and smooth, words spoken around a friendly smile. “I was wondering when I’d finally get to meet you.”
“I take it Richard’s questioning made my visit highly expected.”
She chuckled, quiet and modest. “It’s very common for new residents to get their Guardian Angels involved, but when he told me you were on the case, I knew it was just a matter of time until we met. Your reputation precedes you.” A hand motioned to a bench nearby. “Please, have a seat.”
“Oh, no, don’t worry; this won’t take long. I just want to know what you think about Aiden and if there’s anything you can share about his classes. I don’t know if Richard mentioned this to you, but Aiden was supposed to see him instead of coming here this afternoon.”
“I didn’t know that, but it does fit in with what he told me earlier. He’s a very suspicious man.”
“Is there anything I should know?”
“Well, we didn’t speak very much—this is a fencing class, after all—but he was very distracted during it. He’s a great duelist, and impressed me quite a bit too, but his lack of confidence was not something I expected to see. He downplayed his abilities a lot, unable to talk about himself without bringing up his ex-boyfriend, who’s apparently taught him how to fence. I don’t think practicing in that man’s shadow has done him any good. He has great form and a good technique too, but constantly brushes off compliments, focusing on his mistakes.”
He had a sneaking suspicion that ex-boyfriend was Ben May.
“Like I said, we didn’t talk much,” she continued, “and the topic was mostly confined to fencing, but I could tell something was bothering him. He asked me a few personal questions before leaving, but it was clear that they weren’t about me at all; he was just looking for some advice.”
The fact that she purposefully omitted the details of this advice told him she was unwilling to share them. They must fall under doctor-patient confidentiality.
“Could you keep me posted on that?” he asked, trying his best to sound as nice as possible. “His psychiatric evaluation is very important to me.”
“Of course it is.”
Room 201 was upstairs, located on the left side of the building, where it extended on both ends to form the crescent shape around the community pools. The way the hallways were designed, with carpets on the floor and rows of doors on both sides, was reminiscent of hotels; no windows or any natural light coming in, air heavy with humidity and cigarette smoke. Muffled laughter bled through a few doors as he passed by and the monotone voice of a newscaster cut through some others, spikes of sound amid the quiet.
He knocked. Aiden’s voice, muffled by the door, told him to come in, so he did, finding the room empty with the lights on. Directly in front of him was a queen-size canopy bed, perfectly made, and two nightstands on a platform, a lot fancier than he’d anticipated. The room itself was very spacious, with a sliding door on the back wall, a TV mounted on the left, a mini bar and a couch set. On the right was the bathroom door, open, that welcomed him to Aiden soaking in a hot tub full of bubbles. It was made of the same marble as the floor, a perfect square with wide brims that accommodated a bottle of whiskey and a short glass that Aiden had been drinking from. Nathaniel closed the front door.
Aiden greeted him with a mumble. There was very little emotion in his voice, a grave look on his face, eyes down as he watched himself knock the rest of it back and bring it down for a refill. Had practice upset him? Slowly, Nathaniel approached, but Aiden didn’t even look at him, pouring himself another shot, trying not to spill whiskey in the tub. He was sloppy and did it anyway, though. This was clearly not his first drink of the night.
“You know, I was just thinking about you,” Aiden confessed, setting the bottle down with a clink against the marble.
“Yeah, you look like you were.” His tone was light and easy, despite the bite of his words. Aiden finally glanced up at him, only for a moment, interrupted by another sip of his drink.
Walking into the bathroom, Nathaniel was finally close enough to see the water over the edge of the tub and what seemed to be paper sheets mixed in with the bubbles thrown onto the surface. The sight put a scowl on his face. “Are those the Oracle’s letters?”
“Yes. I’m just a pawn that’s outlived his usefulness. She doesn’t speak to me anymore; she doesn’t even wanna know about me. The game moved on and I was left behind.” Aiden’s speech was badly slurred, highlighting how little was left in the bottle. He watched Nathaniel over the rim of his glass, eyes half-lidded and burning—out of lust or rage? The answer came when the glass lowered and a tongue swiped over his lips for the remaining whiskey there. Nathaniel’s pulse skipped. “Are you just gonna stand there?” Aiden asked, voice low now, almost raspy. It sent a shiver down his spine. “There’s an extra glass on the mini bar.”
Obediently, Nathaniel left the bathroom to get it.
“I didn’t see Richard today,” Aiden commented, loud enough that Nathaniel could hear him from the bedroom, closing a hand around the empty glass.
“I know. He told me.” Nathaniel spoke on the way back, eyes quickly finding Aiden and the bubbles that surrounded him. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because he makes you uncomfortable.” Aiden’s tone was simple, with a loose shrug to accompany it.
Nathaniel scowled. “What are you talking about?” His voice lowered, hand setting the glass by the bottle. Hospitably, Aiden filled it up for him.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Aiden mumbled, focused on his own hands.
A couple of feet from the tub was an ottoman that Nathaniel used for his belongings. Aiden’s attention was captured the moment he started undressing, pausing what he’d been doing for just a moment. Brown eyes drank Nathaniel up, burning brighter with each uncovered inch. It didn’t bother him. Actually, the longer Aiden stared, the stronger the urge to touch him grew in Nathaniel’s chest.
“What I did wasn’t a favor, by the way.” Aiden held the stare as Nathaniel got into the tub. “It was a choice.”
“What did you choose?” he asked, because it was unclear what they were talking about at this point.
Most of Aiden’s body was submerged, practically lying in the tub, legs stretched along the wall where their drinks were. Nathaniel’s approach evidenced how much room he was taking up, unable to reach for his own drink. Self-conscious now, Aiden drew his legs close to his own body, allowing Nathaniel to sit nearby.
“I chose you.”
Their eyes met, and he could feel his heart skip a beat. Near the edge of the tub, he picked up his glass and settled by Aiden’s legs, letting their thighs touch underwater. One sip from his drink and he leaned a forearm on Aiden’s knee, holding the glass in that hand.
“Good choice.”
A small smile, almost shy, tugged lightly at the corners of Aiden’s lips. He was the cutest thing Nathaniel had ever seen. A hand brought Aiden’s glass up for a sip, but didn’t actually do it, pressing the rim against his bottom lip instead. An urge to knock his head back with a kiss rose in Nathaniel’s chest, but all he did was drink from his own glass to keep it down.
“I’ve been thinking about last night,” Aiden commented, voice low, brushing on a whisper. Nathaniel reflexively downed the rest of his glass, whiskey burning down his throat. “The hot spring where we kissed. Just… the way you touched me, the way it went. It was—it was different. Did you feel it?”
A reach over Aiden’s knees and he set his glass back down for a refill, heart hammering, eyes trained on the near-empty bottle. He couldn’t read the tone of Aiden’s voice and didn’t want to try to read his face, either; he didn’t want to know. He didn’t even want to start this conversation right now.
“Yeah, you were nice.” His tone was absent, checked out of the topic. Keeping himself occupied, he poured another glass.
“You were nice too. You—it felt like…” Aiden trailed off, barely audible, probably drunk out of his mind.
Putting the bottle back down, Nathaniel took his glass and sipped on it. His gaze refused to fall on Aiden, roaming the rich beige of the walls, golden light fixtures and massive mirror directly behind the tub. Watching his own reflection, he understood what Charmaine had mentioned before, what all the seraphim had been staring at earlier today; the holy glow of his skin had dimmed and the color of his face had drained. His holiness was fading.
“I guess it just surprised me,” Aiden briefly concluded before bringing his glass up for a sip.
“How? Everything had led to it. You sat on my lap; you should’ve seen it coming.” There was a certain exasperation in his voice, an annoyance bleeding through, but only because he didn’t want this conversation to continue.
“That’s not what I mean. Obviously, I knew what I was doing.”
“Then what surprised you?”
“The way you did it.” The explanation was soft and low, sweet in Aiden’s voice.
A very slight scowl furrowed Aiden’s eyebrows, eyes set on Nathaniel’s face, big and wide, just how they’d been last night, pulling him back like a tide. His heart choked him, an urge in his chest rose—the need to wrap both arms around Aiden and squeeze. The hand around his glass tightened the hold and brought it to his lips.
“You fuck me like you hate me, Nathaniel; I didn’t think last night would’ve been any different. I almost—I mean, god, you kissed me like you wanted to. You held me, and you kissed me, and I almost believed it was all for me.”
“What are you talking about? Of course it was for you. Who else could it be for?”
Aiden’s lips parted, but nothing came out. Instead, he finished his glass and placed it by the bottle for a refill. Taking advantage of that, Nathaniel offered his own glass, as well.
“Aiden, I think about you all the fucking time.” The confession slipped right out of his mouth, absent, straight from the heart. It stopped what Aiden had been doing and seized his attention, eyes wide, speechless. Holding the stare, Nathaniel knew he could’ve kissed him like this. “I thought about you all day today, and last night too,” he continued, because his fears had already come true, and the floodgates had burst open. It was out of his hands now. “I kissed you because it was you.”
“You don’t have to say that. I don’t—I don’t care.” Words came out small and choked up as Aiden placed a hand into the water and moved up to sit away from the edge, eyes cast down the entire time, uncomfortable.
“What are you talking about? Last night was about you. Maybe the others weren’t, but last night was.”
A falter in Aiden’s movements, in the way his eyes shifted over the surface of the water but refused to look up, lips parted without a single word on them, a slight scowl on his forehead. Watching him, Nathaniel wanted to grab his face, press down on his lips, and tilt his head up to make their eyes meet again.
“I thought you were thinking about him,” Aiden confessed, just barely above a whisper. It sliced him right through, a dagger in his heart, eyes wide—he knew about Zea.
On the one hand, of course Aiden knew about Zea, and had known from the very beginning; corresponding with the Oracle, mining all kinds of personal information about Nathaniel, using it to fit his own narrative. At the same time, though, it felt like a shock to get confirmation on it, especially like this, so honest and unprompted, without the labor of extracting it from him, like Nathaniel had been preparing to do. The letters were gone, but he didn’t need them anymore; their contents were no longer a mystery. Slowly, shakily, his hand reached for the bottle and poured them both a shot.
“Only the first time,” Nathaniel admitted, a furtive secret. The dagger twisted as he spoke, because it was true. “It’s just been you ever since.”
With both glasses filled up, he placed the bottle back down, keeping his eyes away from Aiden, locked on the drinks instead. Taking his own, he swirled its contents, golden under the light.
A movement in the water—undulations on the surface that indicated Aiden’s approach, but still he trained his eyes down, sipping from the glass. Just as he brought it back down, however, Aiden took it from him, forcing their eyes to meet; a flame in the brown of Aiden’s irises, burning low, feeding off the alcohol in his system. He leaned in, but Nathaniel promptly grabbed his jaw to keep him away, a mere inch from his own face, fingers digging into his cheeks, lips parted, full.
“I’m not saying anything you want to hear,” he clarified, almost a growl. “I feel nothing for you.”
A tongue swiped over Aiden’s lips, and the hand on his face tightened the grip to keep Nathaniel from giving in. A tug on the corner of Aiden’s mouth, quick, formed a smirk that disappeared soon after. Son of a bitch.
“I don’t believe you,” Aiden informed him, cocky and arrogant. The game had already been lost. So, Nathaniel leaned forward and closed the gap between them with a kiss. Fuck it; he might as well just do whatever he wanted at this point.
Aiden’s lips, soft on his face, kissing him hard and hungry never failed to make his stomach burn, chest growing warm. Their tongues met, his skin shivered, and a hand moved to the back of Aiden’s neck, holding him close, touching the shaved portion of his haircut in a caress.
An urge inside of him, hot in the pit of his stomach, straightened him up and rose him to his knees, which Aiden mirrored right away. They closed the gap, bodies flush together, with one of his arms locked around Aiden’s waist and a hand on the side of his face, Aiden’s palm flat on it, fingers spread along his jaw. The warmth of Aiden’s skin on his own traveled through him like a forest fire, chest burning, veins distributing the flames. With Aiden in his arms, squeezed against himself, he felt the beating of their hearts, a resonance that transcended flesh and bone, and for a moment—for a long, blissful moment—he experienced what he’d dreamed of this afternoon, the perfect execution of that feeling from earlier, even if they weren’t on a beach and hadn’t run away from anything. All he’d wanted was Aiden in his arms, all to himself, just like this.
The thick edge of the tub welcomed Aiden’s forearms and the weight that he put on them, turned around to face their reflections, watching Nathaniel through the mirror. Their eyes met just as he knelt behind Aiden, hands on his hips, digging fingers into the softness of his skin. Carefully, he eased himself in, paying close attention to the way Aiden’s eyes slipped shut, bottom lip in between his teeth, head tilting down. His blood burned, pulse spreading that warmth. He soon picked up a pace, meeting with Aiden quicker than expected. Aiden pushed back against him at just the right time; their bodies were two parts of a unit, keeping tempo, setting his skin alight.
Brown eyes found him again, studying his reflection; the expression on his face, the shape of his muscles, how his stomach tensed. Aiden bit his lip, moaning for him. The hands on his ass squeezed it, pulling him back for each thrust, harder, deeper, a breath forever caught in Nathaniel’s throat.
As his heart turned his chest into a furnace, Nathaniel spread a hand on Aiden’s back and ran it up his spine, smooth skin soft under his palm, warm to the touch; no wings on his shoulder blades, no scars where they were supposed to be. It was wild for someone so angelic to have never been an angel.
Brushing his fingers across the base of Aiden’s skull, he noticed a shiver run down Aiden’s back, head moving down to hide his face in both arms, folded on the edge of the tub. Did he like that? Another touch, the back of his fingers carding through the short hairs, moving over to Aiden’s jaw. He grazed the shell of his ear with a thumb, hand stroking the side of his face. It was sweet, even if unintentionally so, and the way Aiden leaned into it made a different kind of warmth settle within his chest.
The hand on Aiden’s hip left it to dip into the water, against the bottom of the tub as Nathaniel leaned over, stomach pressed on the low of Aiden’s back, hips pushing in deeper. Aiden watched his every move, eyes peeking from under his arms, burning like embers. The proximity put his breath on Aiden’s shoulder, nose grazing along his shoulder blade to his neck. Leaning forward a bit, he pressed a kiss there, on Aiden’s jaw, on his ear, until Aiden turned to kiss him full on the lips. His heart soared. There was a sentimentality here that he couldn’t touch, that plunged his soul into a deep feeling and sutured the emptiness within his chest, kissing Aiden like this, making him moan.
Their hips met harder, faster, and the kiss was broken. Aiden turned away to breathe, so Nathaniel found his neck, pressing his lips to it, eyes closed with his focus, the fire in his stomach burning through it. Aiden continued to lean back, heavy against his thighs, sending shivers down his spine. When the waves of orgasm approached, he grabbed Aiden’s hip, fingers pushing onto the skin to hold him close and keep him there as they both tensed, and choked, and crashed together. Aiden’s whimpers were like fire in his blood, a groan muffled on his neck. One deep thrust and he held Aiden against himself, breathing into his skin, pulsing together.
When he let go of Aiden’s hip, he noticed the hand over his own, pressing on it, fingers trying to slip under his palm. With his heart submerged in a warm feeling, he let Aiden hold his hand, nose buried into the side of his neck, lips pressing a kiss to it.
Slowly, his breathing came back down and his body started to cool off; the muscles in his thighs trembled, the arm that supported all his weight had fallen asleep. He leaned back, sitting on his own shins, but was quickly met with resistance on Aiden’s part, squeezing the hand that held his own, pulling his arm closer in a half-hearted attempt to make him climb back on top.
“Don’t go,” Aiden whispered, small but quick, making something in his chest sting.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Nathaniel promised in what must have been his nicest tone, because he could barely even recognize himself.
He touched Aiden on the hips and eased him backwards, a nod coaxing him over. Aiden sat back, heavy on Nathaniel’s thighs, resting against his chest. Nathaniel watched his reflection wrap both arms around Aiden and hold him tight, Aiden’s head in the crook of his neck, watching him lazily. Aiden’s face was a red mess.
“You can’t tell me you feel nothing for me and then fuck me like that,” Aiden commented, keeping his voice low, almost poignant.
Squeezing him, Nathaniel buried his nose in curls of honey blond, cedar wood and burnt sugar deep in his lungs. Zea would’ve never let Nathaniel hold him like this.
The morning sun filtered in through the sliding door and the thin veils that hung from the canopy, blowing lightly with the breeze, casting delicate shadows that danced on the ceiling. Aiden slept over his wing, using his bicep as a pillow, nose brushing his chest. Nathaniel lifted him just an inch off the mattress to free his wing, then lay him back down, careful not to trap his arm under him again. One last look at the absolute peace on Aiden’s face, and he left for the bathroom. There was just no way he’d show up to a board meeting smelling of sweat and rose water.
It was supposed to be a quick shower before work, but the water must’ve made too much noise, because Aiden walked in not too long after, lethargic, with half-lidded eyes that promptly found him, trained specifically for that. Leisurely, Aiden joined him under the falling water, offering him a small greeting that he responded to a lot more gently than intended, feet moving absently to make room for Aiden. Standing far into his personal space, Aiden touched his waist with a hand and pressed a kiss to his neck, lazy, leaning against his chest. With his heart beating deep into his chest, Nathaniel coiled an arm around Aiden’s midriff, semi-defeated.
“I can’t stay; I have a meeting to go to,” he explained, heartbroken.
“This will wake you up for it.” Aiden’s voice was a whisper just below his ear, sending shivers down his spine as kisses trailed down his neck, sloppy, nibbling at his skin. His head leaned back in response, eyes slipping closed.
“Aiden…” he protested, intending to make that a warning, but failing completely, losing himself.
Aiden kissed down his chest, lips dragging over the skin, making his blood burn, and nothing within him wanted to stop it. He let Aiden nibble his stomach and drag a tongue across his abs, teeth tugging at his navel, biting it for attention. His hand found Aiden’s hair, fingers carding through the curls, brushing them off his forehead. Aiden glanced up at him and the look on his face set Nathaniel’s skin on fire, lips warm, pressed just above the base. Aiden watched him for a moment, letting the hand in his hair brush it back, touch his eyebrows and graze his cheek—a show of permission, different from last night and everything they’d done so far. A kiss pushed onto the low of his stomach and Aiden went down.
That morning was unlike any they’d had so far. The atmosphere between them was different, lighter, less confrontational than before. He’d finally let his defenses down, allowing Aiden to touch him. Their mannerisms had started to fit together, able to work around one another in relative harmony. Aiden was handsy and couldn’t stay away from him, lingering in his personal space, staring a little too closely, kissing and touching whenever he could, the opposite of who Nathaniel was. They compromised with some touching, but not too much and some closeness, but not too much. He let Aiden kiss his neck and give him head, which Aiden reciprocated by letting him be on time for the meeting.
He kissed Aiden before leaving, something he’d never done before, too domestic to be part of his life. Zea would’ve never let him live it down. He could almost hear his laughter, a ghost judging every moment of his day.
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