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He’d had it all figured out.
Perfect.
Just like the house they’d found for the night.
It’d been one of those grey, old-timey kind’f mansions – y’know, with tall, square roofs and spiky, little iron fences runnin’ ‘long the gutters – that could’ve looked like somethin’ they’d put in as a haunted house, but tonight was so covered in snow that it got to lookin’ more like that big house from the Addams Family – the first one, the one where they’d stood on the balcony or somethin’ like that an' tipped a whole pot of boilin’ acid onto some carolers below. The image in his brain made the whole damn thing feel like a festive, black’n’white, icicle-covered fairytale. The others went with it ‘cause there’d been more iron decoratively barrin' up the windows, and ‘cause a place this old had had to have some way of heatin’ it from the ‘before times’. In this case, that was less about the zombies and more about a time ‘fore electricity ever made it to American soil.
They were right – it had a fireplace. Ellis got it lit ‘fore the other three could even kick the snow off their boots.
It didn’t take much longer to settle in for the rest’f the night. A wood stove had ‘em fed, thick curtains kept ‘em hid, and the candlesticks everywhere else gave ‘em cozy pops of yellow light to carry around. Ellis damn near felt like Ebenezer Scrooge – he loved that movie, man – and was only missin’ the slippers’n’Scooge’s nightdress. He had his own hat, of course, but now with this fancy house, he’d finally started to wonder if he should change it just to fit the mood.
Perfect.
Curled up, snug as a bug.
They’d been together in front’f that fire, sittin’ on a round, faded rug, backs against an orange couch that was otherwise goin’ ignored.
Ro’d planted herself in a readin’ room to give the two of them the den. Coach’d gone upstairs, aimin’ to sleep off that day’s journey. Nick'd kept up his own tradition of rootin’ through other people’s closets and findin' the ugliest sweater to fit since “apparently the damn zombies hate silk.” The man outdid himself this time, comin’ back from one of the rooms wearing a piss-yellow sweater adorned by five, ironed-on, scraggly reindeer. He seemed to love it as much – if not more – than that bajillion-dollar suit from Day One, but the wine Ellis’d filled ‘im with might’ve been leadin’ the charge on that contest.
The wine – Ellis was savin’ that for this sort'f night. The Chargers didn’t make it easy but he’d learned more than a few new moves.
It sparkled.
‘Overpriced to hell and back’ – that was Nick’s favourite drink. Didn’t matter if it tasted good, and Nick had a funnier time when it was terrible, but Ellis had gone out of his way to hunt down somethin’ that tasted nice and had been locked behind a case at the ‘fancy’ part of the store. Not gettin’ any safe time to imbibe on the go meant this stuff had started to hit real fast (another reason they were on the ground ‘stead of on the couch), and the lack of practice meant they’d only made it ‘bout a third of the way through before Ellis’d moved onto the next stage.
That, he’d been plannin’ the most.
That, he’d been playin’ in his mind for a week.
That, he’d read and re-read and memorized and recited ‘til he was sure he knew every damn word. He couldn’t risk forgettin' what to do if a moment like this came up.
And it had!
So Ellis'd done his best.
It was just – that… well.
He cleared his throat.
“That, um –” Way too quiet. Ellis shifted in his place and gave it another go. “… You still hurt, darlin’?”
Nick didn’t ‘answer’ so much as he swivelled his head and gave Ellis a long and pointed stare, and even though that wasn’t specifically promisin’ murder, it did probably have it in its Top Ten. Ellis took it as a ‘yes’ and hid back under the bill of his thankfully un-Scrooge-like hat. Eventually, Nick swivelled to murder-starin’ at the fire again instead, so…
At least not all the fire’d gone out, right? Ha. Ha…
Nick did not appreciate Ellis pipin’ up to actually point that out.
“Here,” Ro cut in, returnin' with a sandwich bag in her hand. “This should help with the swelling. Glad we’ve got the season on our side for once.”
“Thanks, Ro,” Ellis said, trying and failing to look up at her while not lookin’ over at Nick’s now Top Five maybe-murder-glare. She handed him the snow. Ellis passed the bag over to Nick, who snatched it away so quick that the speed alone could’ve melted it. “He says thanks too-”
“Don’t tell her what I said, I didn’t say that, I didn’t say you could talk for me –”
“I’m finishing my book,” Rochelle sharply interrupted again, “and then I’m going to bed. Both of those mean you need to keep the ‘romance’ down –” She wagged a finger at Ellis there. “– and you…”
Nick, with the bag of snow mushed up against his face, was quickly narrowin’ his glare down to a Top Two. Ro shrugged at that and carried on with what she meant to say ‘fore she'd trailed off, which – it turned out – was to take Nick’s side.
“I mean…” She winced as she said it, but Ellis wasn’t gonna blame her. He admitted he’d screwed up ‘fore she’d even run in at Nick’s hollerin’. “You did bite him.”
“Yeah,” Nick snapped, “he did.”
“But Coach is already asleep, and not all of us dodged our Chargers, so keep it down anyway,” Ro continued, finally gettin’ her chance to wag a finger at Nick now. “We need our rest. And – come on, that’s not even the worst thing to happen to you this week. You’re wearing it. It’s like you’re visually biting all of us with that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Nick spat out around the snow-bag halfway in his mouth. “When you put it in terms of biting, I can understand why that’d be awful. Do you know how I’d know?” He didn’t let her answer – “‘Cause this one actually bit me with actual goddamn teeth –”
They heard Nick’s name gettin’ called from upstairs.
Nick shut up and furiously chewed on his snow.
“I warned you,” Ro sang, revelling in Nick’s Top One officially-going-with-murder-glare. On that happy note, she stretched. “Like I said, I’m going to finish my book. Good night, boys.”
Her leavin’ did not bode well for Ellis, ‘cause now Coach’s sleep was ridin’ on him bein’ able to say the right thing: nothing. He tucked his legs up closer to his chest and waited, lettin’ five whole minutes slide by until the dyin' crackle of fire couldn’t keep the silence away anymore.
“I’ll…” God, it felt good to make noise. ‘Cept now Ellis had to prove he had somethin’ to say, ‘less he wanted Nick to get double-pissed at him. “… I’ll – just… fix that…”
Nick grunted.
Safe enough.
Ellis’d crawled over to throw in more wood right when Nick decided he'd wanted to talk after all.
“So can I ask –” And instantly, Ellis whirled around on his knees, almost knocking an on-fire log to the floor. “Nice. Anyway, why in hell did you bite me?”
Ah.
Yeah.
This was – uh…
Well, he’d had a few backup plans for if this hadn’t worked out, but all’f ‘em had been sorta on that ‘too foolproof to screw up’ side. Not that he didn’t have an answer planned, but…
Nick wasn’t gonna like it.
The man was waitin’ for something though, sat like he was with both knees up, an arm rested on one (‘rested’ – the man was coiled tighter than a snake), and the other startin’ to drip from the water leaking down his hand.
Probably – um… wasn’t the right time to notice Nick’s legs were spread maybe a little wider than they had to be but… notice, Ellis did. And with the wine and the food and he couldn’t really out-talk a man known for talking…
“I dunno,” Ellis said, immediately givin’ up. “Guess I thought it’d be sexy.”
“Sexy?!”
And from the reading room came a garbled, choking, glob of sound that took fifteen entire seconds for Ellis to puzzle out. When he did, he tried to give a friendly call of, “Uh – Ro? Could you maybe please –”
“Get out of here, Rochelle,” Nick roared.
Ro was just as bad as Nick was, startin’ to howl with laughter now as she went upstairs. It kept going ‘til it finally got into a bedroom and the door shut, where she’d clearly gone to yuk it up in private.
“Poor Coach,” Ellis mumbled. “Hasn’t even had an hour of quiet yet.”
“Yeah – poor Coach,” Nick shot back. “Who in the hell told you that was sexy?”
“The –” Aww. “Uh… the magazine?” Alright, yes, that was about the worst answer he could’ve gave, and the way Nick’s back straightened and eyebrows lifted gave off a strong suggestion that Ellis had nothin’ to lose now by tryin’ to talk his way out of this hole. “‘Cause – uh… back in that store from the other day? Where you were sayin’ I was takin’ too long? That’s just – there was a rack of magazines in the corner, and – uh... I took a look ‘cause – well, the internet’s gone –”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Those were not good ‘wait’s. Nick was leanin’ in, and that bag of snow was sloshin’ as he moved. “I’ve been telling you for months to read up on any shit you’re not comfortable with, and the first time you decided to listen, you beelined it for a porn mag saying, 'Bite your man in the face, he'll love it'?”
“That ain’t even what I did,” Ellis protested. Nick purposely didn’t interrupt that time, which meant Ellis was stuck lookin’ like he had more to say when… no, well, that sorta summed up his best shot. He ended up finishin’ with a lame, “I told you I was sorry,” and turnin’ back to keep pokin’ at the fire.
‘Metaphors,’ he guessed.
He could feel the risin' smirk from Nick burnin’ a hole into his neck, and he could sure as shit hear it in the man’s voice when Nick said, “So was I right? It actually said ‘bite me in the face’?”
Oh, of course bein’ right would perk Nick up.
“I bit your lip. Quit makin’ it sound like I chewin’ off your jaw.” Of course Ellis gettin’ touchy ‘bout it would be a damn delight for Nick, too. Blood was really in the water, huh? “It didn’t say ‘bite’, it…” And then Ellis was embarrassed as hell ‘cause now he had to speak this word out loud. “… said ‘nibble’.”
… He looked back over his shoulder to see what Nick’s reaction to that’d been. Unfortunately, it was about the worst one possible: Nick’s head cocked at an angle in a pure split of ‘Ellis, I’m gonna leave you to the first Hunter we find’ and ‘This is the most fun I’ve had in a week’.
“And that,” Nick said, horrifically curious, “was a ‘nibble’ to you?”
“Shut up'n'finish your snow,” Ellis muttered. So much for a perfect night. Nick was having fun again but Ellis was done. “And no. I was tryin’ to be gentle at the start, but you didn’t notice so I – just…” Forget it. “If you’re out’f snow, I’ll get you more. It’s everywhere outside.”
“Hang on, sugarteeth,” Nick said, sounding like he’d jump up too if Ellis tried gettin’ away that easily. As it was, since Ellis was still sittin’ down, so was Nick, and with the snow-bag fully turned to water, the man was free to lean back, relax and enjoy. “If you’re talking about your pre-war-crime stuff, then sure, I noticed the little ‘nibbles’ you were doing. I liked your little nibbles. What you’re calling ‘Nick didn’t notice’ is what most people call ‘Nick’s having a good time but isn't stopping to hand out gold stars because the fact you were allowed to continue with that should’ve been its own reward’.” … Oh. “Yeah. ‘Oh’.”
Nick must’ve read that response off Ellis’ face. Not the other part bubblin’ up, though, and that was ‘cause Ellis deliberately looked down and started pickin’ at his shoes where he was sittin’ on the floor. Those were just some short boots Nick’d pulled off a shelf for ‘im when it started getting’ cold – and good timing, ‘cause his feet were about as cold as they were gonna get right now.
He pushed through anyway.
Kinda.
“… did say ‘bite’,” he mumbled.
“What was that,” Nick cooed, viciously leanin’ right back in.
“It said‘bite’,” Ellis snapped. “Wasn’t just nibbles, ‘cause those were only on the way to bitin’ you, but it was supposed to be – like, a sexy bite. They had a whole thing ‘bout settin’ the mood and such – and I had considered the mood to be set.” He paused. “My bad. It wasn't.”
Should’ve stuck with the damn nibbles, since apparently those were doin’ some magic.
“So it said ‘bite’.” Nick’d gone from ‘coo’ to ‘crow’ at a record pace. “That’s interesting. You just said it didn’t say that.”
“Can you not get like this for once?” It was killing every urge Ellis had to try this shit again. “Yes, Nick, you were right, you win, just skip the part where I was tryin’ my best.”
Ellis was decidin’ on if he should be stomping off upstairs when Nick, who’d given him thirty seconds to think about it, broke the silence himself that time.
“You take it?”
“What?”
That man looked impossibly evil at gettin’ to ask his question again.
“Did you,” Nick repeated, somehow looming over everything without ever even standing up, “take the magazine?”
Ellis narrowed his eyes.
“Why?”
“I want to see it,” Nick said, keepin’ it real simple. But simple was also bad. It meant there was no use lyin’ at this point, ‘cause Nick'd already figured out the answer. Gettin’ hugely comfortable about that, the man lazed so far against the couch that he might as well’ve gotten off the ground and sat on the damn thing properly – but he didn’t, all for the drama of provin’ a point about how he could. “Giddy-up, Seabiscuit. Bring it to me.”
Not perfect.
Ellis closed his eyes and let a tired breath huff out’f his nose.
“Okay,” he said, givin’ up immediately again, and a lot less happy to do it than he’d been before.
His mood dropped harder when he made it to the first step of the stairs, and instead of journeying up to get anything, a whack of paper hit ‘im on the head from on high.
Ellis looked up.
He looked down.
The magazine was on the floor.
The magazine that’d been in his bag, in the room him’n’Nick were takin’, meaning somebody else had gone ahead an’ helped themselves to searchin’ it – and ‘cause of that, had definitely seen the other shit Ellis’d kept in the same pocket.
The joy he felt at knowin’ it wasn’t Nick who’d found his stuff was takin’ a real backseat right then.
“I would prefer not havin’ to talk about this,” Ellis said, knowing he sounded weak.
“Go to bed, Rochelle,” Nick shouted.
“Boy, if you wake me up again –”
Coach didn’t even need to finish that. A much less hostile, “Sorry, Coach,” floated in over from the den.
And then Coach was back to starin’ down at Ellis. Why was everybody loomin’ today – goddamn.
“I’ll keep quiet,” Coach began, doin’ the worst thing by lookin’ amused– “if you do.”
“Deal,” Ellis said.
With a mutual nod, Coach returned to his room, Ro guffawed from inside’f hers, and Ellis picked up the magazine that Nick was gonna lose his mind over at bein’ exactly the type that he had guessed.
It had articles. That was why Ellis’d taken it.
In any case, Nick’d been busying himself with pokin’ the fireplace back to life, so there was one moment between Ellis startin’ to hand the magazine over, but before Nick lit up in a very ‘fuckin’ knew it’ sort’f way, where Ellis could’ve chucked the damn thing in, let it burn and skipped the headache. At the very least, he should’ve ripped the pages out and burned the rest. Too bad he didn’t have either of those thoughts ‘til after the windows had closed and the magazine was already in Nick’s hands.
Him and his stupid, yellow sweater.
Him also drinkin’ his wine, though, and his lip – even curled into a smug, little smirk – did seem much better.
So with one hand filled by a glass and the other filled by pages of... well. Nick wasn’t even lookin’ at ‘im, ‘cause he was happily flippin’ through what the thing was sayin’ and takin’ a sip just when it seemed like he was gonna bust a gut laughin’ at it all.
Ellis stood awkwardly watchin’, ‘cause…
Nick was havin’ fun.
That’d been the point of this in the first place.
… He fuckin’ forgot he’d wrote himself some notes on those pages too, goddammit, goddamn, shit, shit.
“Done,” Nick announced, keepin’ a notable limit to his volume. He tossed the magazine to the side and patted a spot on the rug beside him. For Ellis. And he obviously had to finish that off with a gulp of the rest of his glass at whatever he was readin’ on Ellis’ face now. “Sit.”
Ellis frowned.
“You gonna bite me back?”
“Yes,” Nick said, puttin’ down his glass too. “It’s only fair. And now that I’ve read those highly annotated instructions, I’m pretty sure I know what to do.”
Ellis eventually sat at where he’d been summoned, but he might as well’ve gone beside a Jockey with how many teeth were in Nick’s grin. The man was serious – he wanted some type of revenge, and if he wasn’t usin’ anything written on the magazine as torment, being ‘even’ was how this was gonna go down.
He sighed. He couldn’t help that.
This was supposed to’ve been a nice night for ‘em. A break. Cozy. Snow outside, warm inside, big house, candlelight and a fire, drinks and food and privacy…
“I was tryin’,” he said, ‘fore they just got on with this. “I know you ain’t much for ‘it’s the thought that counts,’ but I did what I could. Damn Chargers smashed up the bottles I kept finding for ya. One time it was a Tank an’ I just threw the wrong thing. But I was tryin’ to make it nice. So I’m sorry. I screwed up.”
“Jesus, Ellis,” Nick replied, soundin’ like the wine that had survived was sinking in. “What are you, on death row? Relax.”
“If you’re gonna bite me –”
“Not like you bit me,” Nick snapped. “Even though – yeah, you’d totally deserve it, ‘cause I read what you read, including your fun citations, and nowhere in there was it written, ‘Pair his blood with a nice Merlot’.”
“I’m sorry,” he almost begged. “I wanted –”
“To make it sexy – right, whatever,” Nick said, abruptly looking around the room and spying the wine. “We gonna finish this?” And then he chugged from the bottle anyway, which means he wasn’t gonna share it anymore. Sharin’ was ‘gross’. “That’s mine now.”
“It was for you to start with,” Ellis muttered.
“D’aww.” But finally, Nick stopped spoutin’ his bullshit. He leaned his head back to rest it on the couch cushions behind him instead, and then rolled over to look at Ellis from out and under his half-lidded eyes. It seemed as if he’d taken his own advice about relaxin’ ‘cause that’d all been after he had stretched every like a cat, and after the expression on his face had gained a lazier mix of ‘I’m having fun’ and ‘I’m still leaving you for a Hunter later.’ And that was fair. The far side of Nick's lip wasn’t swollen anymore, but Ellis could plainly see the sign of his handiwork. “You closing your eyes or what?”
Not perfect.
“I can’t even look at you?”
“No, you can’t,” Nick said, matter-of-factly and nearly stern. “I didn’t get to see it coming, so you don’t. Consider that your lesson on consent.”
That was bullshit. And so was Nick’s extra-smug smile at that reaction. The silver lining of shuttin’ his eyes meant no more of that.
He shut them.
Nick made ‘im wait. Ellis could hear the wine slosh around as the bottle was finished up. After that, he was down to having to listen to the crackle of the fire. He could hear his own breathing too, along with his heartbeat the longer this took.
It was only gonna be the one bite, probably.
Probably.
He waited.
He tasted Nick before he could feel ‘im. Nick always liked comin’ in light, like he wanted a sense of how Ellis would be, but the wine and its spice wasn’t waitin’ on any of his usual checks. Ellis wasn’t lettin’ it wait either, ‘cause the heat of Nick's skin after bein’ so warmed by the fire let him melt against that mouth like snow, and the gentle scent of pine along Nick’s jaw carried him in to chase after the rest. He’d barely had to ask before his tongue was allowed to celebrate, but ask, his tongue did, and although Nick welcomed his question, opening up to draw him inside, Ellis felt a shift as the man’s attention first went to his teeth catching Ellis’ lip.
Gentle. And light. Enough to notice and then move past into having Ellis in the rest of the way. And they moved like that every time Ellis had to lift away to breathe or swallow, or just when he took Nick by the back of the head to turn them where they needed to be: Nick would let him leave for that half of a second, then catch his lip when he pushed to come back. Twice. Three times sometimes. That gentle pressure while he was trapped grew, and Nick would tilt to pull him in knowin’ damn well he was stuck, nippin’ like Ellis was takin’ too long. Then Nick would let him go and kiss at ‘im like the mystery solved, only to leave him waitin’ again the next time Ellis made any sort of change.
The thought of a bite had changed in his mind. Nick was too gentle on purpose, in his way on purpose, outright obstructin’ his path and releasin’ him like it hadn’t even happened. Ellis kept thinkin’ about it – well, tried, ‘cause the second his tongue met Nick’s, his mind emptied out to fill up on the heat – and how that bite was gonna be a reveal – an admission – that yes, Nick was fuckin’ with ‘im on purpose, but then Ellis was gonna get his full access back.
And then –
“How did that feel?”
Nick’s eyes, too dark from the light of the fire to see the green that’d be gleamin’ in them, were loomin’ over Ellis as Nick straddled his legs – along with the ghost of a smile, too faint to tell what Nick was thinkin’.
Ellis had to think.
He had to focus real hard to think, but he did it in the end and stupidly said out loud, “Did you bite me?”
“No,” Nick said.
Oh.
Ellis thought again.
“Weren’t you gonna?”
“Yes,” Nick said. Then that fuckin’ grin – “Oh, not now. You’re expecting it. See, I didn’t know it was coming, so you don’t get to know. That’s how this works.”
… The man actually patted Ellis on the shoulder, smug as a fuckin’ bug.
“So –” And Nick went right back to kissin’ him like Ellis wasn’t tryin’ to ask another damn question. “Wait – so –” Obligingly, Nick paused his kiss and even opened his eyes when Ellis sat up, waiting while Ellis propped himself up on his elbows. But he kept his damn lips pressed to Ellis’ mouth so they just had to – like… talk around that while this man was starin’ into his soul. “You’re gonna hang this over me every time? Like, every time? For how long?”
“I dunno,” Nick said directly into Ellis’ lips. “Until it’s funnier to finally bite you, I guess.”
“And if you don’t ever get that chance? If I just decide ‘screw it’ and never kiss you again?”
Nick cackled at a Coach-approved level and pushed Ellis back down to the floor.
Fair enough, he guessed.
The night was as perfect as it got for them.
In some part of his mind, one Ellis could get to a lot faster when Nick wasn’t on top of him, he felt a thrill at realizin’ how ‘perfect for them’ still meant it was perfect after all.
Nick got ‘im in the shower ‘bout a week later. There, Ellis knew it was sexy –