Work Text:
“Stop whining, you really are in no condition to be walking at this hour…”
The night had started uneventfully, with Mordecai double checking the logistics of the Marigold’s incoming shipment, and otherwise attending to the books. The work was drawn out well past the speakeasy’s closing, but he couldn’t very well leave until it was perfect. Compounding matters was the all-too-frequent interruptions from the Savoys, hellbent on keeping Mordecai from any modicum of productivity. Serafine had gotten bored and left without Nico. The latter was demolishing the bar’s supply of spiced rum as if it were the last drops of water in a desert.
Once Mordecai was content that no room for error was left, he began preparing for his return home. As he went to shut off the lights, he noticed something missing. Someone missing.
“…that moron.” Mordecai hissed.
He couldn’t have gotten far, not in his drunken stupor. Buttoning his coat, Mordecai briskly exited the speakeasy and trudged through the cold night air. The only warmth came from the rising frustration at Nico’s absolute lack of fear for his own wellbeing. Though he would never admit it, there was an element of what most others would call “worry” or “concern”.
Each step of Mordecai’s pristine dress shoes rang through the empty streets of St. Louis. His eyes darted quick and precise, inspecting every shape that might dare move in case it was that loathsome oaf. If that idiot had any sense, he’d be shambling in the direction of the Maribel hotel. Ten minutes by car, far longer on foot. Even worse for a stumbling drunk. None of this made sense, why would he not have driven back with Serafine?
There was no time to waste. Every second that passed was another chance for Nico to trip and hurt himself, or pass out in an alley where nobody would find him. Street after street flashed by as Mordecai pursued Nico’s trail. He couldn’t be sure he’d even find Nico, much less in time to spare him any undue injury. Mordecai could only hope he wasn't too late.
He was approaching another street corner when finally his luck changed. There, hunched over, vomiting, and leaning his weight on a street lamp, was the brawny drink-addled form of Nico. As he finished hurling, his peripheral caught the sight of Mordecai fast-approaching.
"Mon cher! I-" his sentence was cut off by a fit of coughing. "The hell are you doing out here?"
"Looking for you. What were you thinking!? Do you have a deathwish or is your absent survival instinct a condition of some sort?"
Not waiting for an answer, Mordecai began brushing Nico's sleeves and helping him to stand straight. Though he didn't resist, Nico's expression lied somewhere between confusion and amusement. Allowing Mordecai to hoist his arm across his shoulders to support the taller cat's weight, Nico spoke.
"I've made this trip before, there's nothing to worry about."
"I'm not worried, you're a liability. If anything happened to you like this I'd-," Mordecai stopped himself and let out a terse sigh.
"...operations would be interrupted, and Mr. Sweet would be none-too-pleased. You're staying with me tonight. I can get you to Serafine tomorrow. Come on."
Nico let out a wheezy laugh and nodded his head. He wasn’t used to receiving this much attention, especially from the high-strung Mordecai. The lithe figure’s mouth continued to move, but the words didn’t quite reach his ears. He chuckled at how motherlike of a scolding he was getting for such a small matter.
As Mordecai took the lead, he moved purposefully through the streets, almost dragging Nico with him. As tense as his movements were, there was a relief that came with dispelling the ways this could have gone wrong. Now, he was fueled by a sense of duty to care for Nico. Step one: make sure this wasted fool is made to rest immediately.
It was convenient that the two were just ten minutes from Mordecai’s apartment. Needing to stop only twice for Nico’s sake, they arrived without incident. Gingerly guiding Nico up the building’s stairs, Mordecai unlocks his door and ushers the cat inside in one smooth motion. Quietly shutting the door behind him, he carefully moves Nico towards his bedroom and gets him seated.
“I don’t host guests. I’d give you the couch to sleep on, but you’d only break it. I’ll make due and share my bed, but you’d best not breathe a word of this.”
“Hah, why not? Don’t want people knowing you had a man in your bed?”
“People get ideas, and I don’t entertain rumors. Just go to sleep, bastard.”
A few giggles escaped Nico, who never failed to derive fun from pushing buttons. Nonetheless, he began undressing and threw his vest and scarf to the ground while kicking off his shoes. Mordecai followed, removing his coat first. He caught a glance of Nico’s chest while the well-toned cat stretched his arms in the air. Quickly breaking his gaze, Mordecai tried in vain to stifle the blush spreading over his cheeks.
Taking a deep breath and silently cursing, he continues undressing, donning a plain white tank top with his underwear. By now, deep snoring broke the silence between them. Turning to face Nico, who now lies snuggled beneath the blankets, Mordecai watches the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. His thoughts scrambled to shut down whatever notions Mordecai was beginning to feel. “No! No. You are not this stupid. DON'T overthink this.”
Circling to the opposite side, Mordecai turns off the lights before sitting on the bed, taking care not to disturb his guest’s slumber. A loud clink met his pince-nez as he set them on his end table. Quietly sliding beneath the sheets, he shifted to lay on his side, accidentally bumping against Nico’s back. The snoring briefly stopped, followed by a slight shuffle. Mordecai was grateful for the small mercy of the dark hiding his embarrassment.
Forcing his eyes closed, Mordecai tried his best to relax and let sleep come naturally. His steadily rising heartbeat made sure the process would be difficult. Not helping anything was the soft pulsing of Nico’s heartbeat against his back. Why now? What’s happening? He had hated almost every moment with this imbecile before, so why was he suddenly…nervous?
It wasn’t fear. If Nico meant him harm, he could drop him in a blink with a well-placed bullet. No, he wasn’t afraid of Nico. Perhaps some sudden illness he had caught from wandering the cold streets alone? He began taking inventory of his symptoms. Elevated heart rate, increased sweating, heightened nerves, and difficulty concentrating; it was clear. Mordecai displayed a typical schoolyard crush.
Great, now there really was fear coursing through his veins. Fear of anyone finding out. Fear of ruining work with the Marigold. Fear of….himself. All his life, he steered clear of romance. Feelings like that caused problems, ones he’d sooner avoid altogether. But worse than that, he was feeling this about a man. What was wrong with him? He should know better! Even as a kid, he was taught that such behavior was disgusting, and an affront to the sanctity of love. Then again, Mordecai had little qualms with the sins of business working for Mr. Sweet, so why should this be any different? Why does he even care?
His breathing was catching up to his pulse, a series of ever-quicker deep breaths which betrayed any hope of masking his internal panic. What was he supposed to do now? There was no chance he’d ever admit his feelings. He could practically hear it now, Nico laughing up a storm making fun of him for such an asinine confession. God forbid Serafine finds out. She might actually murder him.
The spiraling of his thoughts had no end in sight. That is, until Mordecai felt a shift behind him. Before he could react, Nico had turned over and wrapped an arm across his body. His breathing stopped, and his heart nearly burst in his chest. At first, Mordecai was scared to react at all, uncertain if doing so would wake Nico. But after the initial shock, something new washed over Mordecai. Something almost...calming. Nico was just the right amount of warm as he lay wrapped around him. His soft gray fur was a perfect cushion overtop his solid frame of muscle. Even now, his scent carried a mix of the spiced rum on his breath, a hint of cigarette ash, and just a bit of must. After a short while, his breaths became slow, steady, and his heartbeat gradually decreased along with it. Mordecai wasn't any closer to having answers, but maybe, just tonight, he could enjoy this and pretend things would work out...
"...Knew it." Nico thought to himself. Earlier when he had jeered about Mordecai having a man in his bed, he was honestly taking the piss just to mess with the uptight stick-in-the-mud. He had fallen right to sleep, but woke up with a pounding heartbeat at his backside. Nico had never seen Mordecai so much as express anxiety, so this was new. But then he thought about it. Maybe he was right. Oh this was too good, was the ever-stern triggerman extraordinaire seriously catching feelings for little ol' Nico? He was flattered, and more impressed that Mordecai was capable of such emotions. He just had to be sure. That's when he launched his little test. An arm carelessly wrapped around Mordecai in his sleep. Perfectly defensible, hell, Mordecai might not dare mention it. The sudden halt to the panicked breathing all but confirmed the matter to Nico. He did his best to stifle a giggle. It was sorta cute, to see Mordecai genuinely nervous. As easily as he awoke, Nico drifted back to sleep. Oh this will be fun tomorrow morning...
-----
The dawn crept through the curtains of Mordecai’s modest bedroom. As the light met his heavy eyelids, he slowly blinked his green eyes to near-wakefulness. His tail twitched as he adjusted himself to get comfortable. Nico’s arm still laid across Mordecai’s torso, resting on his chest and faintly pulling him into the larger feline. He laid one hand atop Nico’s soft forearm, forgetting for a moment the turmoil he felt the night before.
Ordinarily, Mordecai is early to rise, and maintains a prudent morning routine. Given the late night prior and his current semi-captivity in the arms of an oddly seductive Cajun, he resigned himself to simply wait until the other man stirred awake. As he laid with his thoughts and the morning sunlight, the uncertainties of before slithered their way to the front of his mind. Surely, this couldn’t last. Soon, his bedside companion would wake. After tending to his inevitable hangover, he’d be on his way back to his shared abode with Serafine, and Mordecai would never feel this luxury again. With reluctance, he closed his eyes and tried to savor what fleeting time he had left to enjoy the morning.
There was a rustling behind him. Nico’s arm withdrew from holding Mordecai, and a hefty yawn filled the air. This was accompanied with grunts of pain, and Nico held his forehead in his hand while rubbing his eyes. Seeing his chance, Mordecai rose from the sheets and carefully made his half of the bed. It would have to do for now, at least while Nico occupied it. With a cough, the gray cat greeted him.
“Bonjour, mon ami. Sleep alright?”
“It was adequate. I trust you’re still reeling from last night’s idiocy?”
Nico laughed at the way he put the matter, but he couldn’t deny it. There was a sharp pain like a knife wedged in his forehead. An uneasy malaise filled his body, and he could only try his best to prop himself against the bedframe and bear it. Before Nico could string together words to answer, Mordecai had left the room, the end of his tail trailing into the small kitchen of the apartment. Distant noises followed as he began brewing some coffee.
It took a few minutes for Nico to muster the fortitude to rise from bed. Cautiously, he stood up, and with one hand making use of the furniture to support his weight, made his way towards Mordecai. To his left, the black cat stood in his undershirt, watching the coffee pot like a hawk would its prey. Sauntering to the couch, he plopped down unceremoniously and relaxed his full weight against the cushions. Nico took deep, heaving breaths and massaged his forehead some more.
There was a prolonged silence, broken only by the bubbling sounds of boiling water. Every so often, Nico would cast a sideways glance at Mordecai, who had scarcely moved at all waiting for the coffee to finish. He couldn't see his eyes, but from his posture, he seemed rather sunk-in on himself, though from the couch it was difficult to read further into it. At a guess, Mordecai was still having conniptions about their night sharing a bed. This may well have been the first time he had physical intimacy with a man, even if he was less than willing. Whatever he was feeling must have came as a surprise if it was enough to make Mordecai Heller, of all people, panic.
Nico wasn't sure what to make of it all. Was it hilarious how easy he was able to fluster him? Of course, but the question is, how should he bring it up? Furthermore, what did Nico really want out of this? It was no secret how he slept around town, fling after fling, endearing himself to the company of ladies. Even Mordecai should know that much. But there was something unexpectedly charming about the way holding Mordecai soothed the latter's nerves, albeit gradually. Though at first, it was a selfish ploy to test waters with Mordecai, there came with it a satisfaction, that even passively he held such weight over his emotions.
Finally, Mordecai was able to pour the fresh coffee into the two cups he had set out before. Without asking, he picked up both and carried them to the couch, offering one to Nico before taking a seat, sufficiently spaced away so as to be out of his reach. His heart wasn't ready to risk being held again. While he waited for his own drink to cool, he heard Nico blowing on the steaming coffee before taking a tentative sip.
"Damn, this is bitter! You always take ya coffee black?"
"Of course. It's functional, and the flavor's subtleties aren't lost as they are with trite like cream and sugar."
"Tch, you a special kind of psychopath, you know that?"
He emphasized his words with a light punch to Mordecai's shoulder, before returning to the task of drinking piping hot suffering. Even holding back, the contact hurt more than Mordecai had braced for. But the pain isn't what lingered. Feeling Nico's hand against his fur again sparked the cooling embers of his heart that remained from earlier. Steadying his breathing, he tried to simply ignore the sensation and focus on the coffee.
"Listen, I ain't dumb. We gotta talk."
Shit. There it was. Despite his best efforts, he was still too obvious. Trying not to display this anxiety, he furrowed his brow as his head swiveled to meet Nico's statement.
"Talk? What, pray tell, is there to talk about?"
"Don't be coy, you know what. Last night? That little panic attack of yours? You've been freaking out, and I think I know why."
"Oh? And what conclusion has the sage Nicodeme arrived at?"
"Hey, if you wanna pussyfoot it, that's fine, but I'll say it. You like me, don't you?"
Silence. Mordecai's eyes shot wide. So this was how it all ended: a heart attack in his own living room. Pausing perhaps longer than appropriate, he took a moment to mentally curse fate for not striking him down and sparing him this conversation.
"I was hoping I could ignore it, or that I was wrong but....that does seem correct."
"Seems!? What was it you said when you found me last night? 'If anything happened to you like this I'd-'. You'd what? I mighta been shitfaced, but even then, I could tell something was up."
Nico scooched down the couch, closing the gap between the two. He leaned closer to Mordecai before speaking again.
"Don't worry your pretty head. I think I like you too."
Before words could reach Mordecai's lips, he felt Nico's hand rubbing the fur of his head, right between his ears. Shivers coursed down his body. His tension melted as he relaxed into Nico's touch, purring before he could stop himself.
"See? Isn't this nice? You oughtta loosen up, cher. I get maybe some of the stuck-ups cruising around town might frown on this sorta thing, but what do they matter? This is between us, and only us."
Ceasing the head scratch for a moment, Nico leaned to set down his coffee on the low table before the couch. Mordecai matched this with his own, and reclined back, turning his whole body to face Nico on the couch.
"What would you have us be then? Secret lovers, scurrying out of sight now and then like teenagers?"
"Eh, if that's your speed. Don't matter to me who knows, but I can keep this hush hush if you'd rather."
"People knowing would complicate work. Indulging this at all is a risk, but I won't deny the appeal of it."
With one hand, Nico brushed the back of Mordecai's head, subtly bringing it ever-so-slightly closer towards him.
"Then don't." he whispered.
Time seemed to stop. With a gentle lunge, Mordecai planted a kiss onto Nico, wrapping his arms around his bare torso as the latter reciprocated to pull him closer. Every nerve in Mordecai's body ignited like a symphony of fireworks. With each passing second, ecstasy drowned his inhibitions and gave him a blissful sensation. Nothing else in this godforsaken world mattered, not while yet in the seasoned arms of his new lover. Even as the faint taste of ash greeted Mordecai's lips, he didn't stop. He refused to. His body and soul were aloft with an unprecedented pleasure.
Eventually, the two parted from the kiss. Still aching to hold onto this wave of elation, Mordecai rested his head on Nico's chest, nuzzling the crook of his neck. Nico let out a soft chuckle, bringing his hand up to stroke his lover's head once more. Mordecai's ears twitched in response. After a few moments of quiet, he spoke.
"How soon did you need to leave?"
"Not for a while. Serafine can wait."