Archive of Our Own

One of the things that surprised Adam about himself was how quickly he could get used to things.

He’d had one anxiety spiral after another in the weeks after landing in California. There was so much to get done, and so quickly. 

A house to acquire, then his first days on the job, and getting familiar with all the local stores, and learning the quirks of his new abode. At first he was convinced he wouldn’t be able to do it. That everything would turn out to be too much. 

Failure seemed inevitable.

But he’d called Harlan every day, and pushed through the stress as best he could. He came home and went right to bed every night for the first three weeks exhausted, overstimulated, and needing to recover by lying in the dark with an astronomy audio book. Even just keeping himself bathed and fed took a massive amount of effort, but he’d managed to do it by the skin of his teeth. 

But after all that, he came out the other side feeling like he had things under control, even if the stress still ate at him.

He got used to it.

He still didn’t really get out much, but he made an effort to go to one new place in the city once a month. Harlan told him it was a good idea. He could get more familiar with the area and maybe meet someone.

“Maybe even a girl,” Harlan had said.

Adam didn’t meet a girl. He met a man. An older man, with sharp cheekbones and a sharper smile. 

It’d been by pure accident. Adam had bumped into Nigel with a cup full of cranberry juice at a café a few blocks over from Adam’s house. Nigel was wearing a white shirt that day, of course. Adam trembled as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t see you. Maybe I can pay for it. Let me give you some money.”

“Maybe you ought to pay a bit more attention, gorgeous. Head in the clouds?”

“You’re right, I should. I’m sorry. Here.”

Adam held out fifty dollars, and his brow knitted in confusion when Nigel put a hand up in denial.

“How about letting me take you out instead? Honestly, it’s the only way you can make me whole again.”

“A date?”

Disbelief made Adam’s eyes go huge and Nigel let out a quiet, charmed laugh. 

“Exactly as I said. You, me, and a table at Maestro’s. How does that sound?”

“I prefer eating at home,” Adam replied, voice faint. The hand clutching the money lowered, and he shoved the bills back into his wallet. A date would be much better.

The stranger was handsome, and despite never really considering men before, Adam didn’t find himself opposed to the idea at all. In fact, Nigel looked big and solid in a way that made Adam curious. What would it be like to be held by someone like that? 

“Then let’s eat at your place. Give me your name, gorgeous.”

And that had been that. They set a date for the following evening, deciding that Nigel would come to Adam’s apartment and be cooked a meal of macaroni and cheese with steamed broccoli on the side. Adam had been very specific. 

So many hours of anxiety followed.

What if Nigel didn’t come? It’d hurt. Adam was sticking his neck out with this, the spontaneous decision going against all his instincts. But he pushed through that just like he did the work anxiety. It was enough to let him get some sleep, and to let him get everything neat and tidy for a guest the following morning.

It really helped Adam’s nerves when Nigel arrived right on time. Not a minute earlier, and not a minute later. 

“Hey there, angel,” he said. He was holding a bottle of alcohol and wearing an entirely black suit. Adam’s cheeks heated.

“Should I have worn something better? These are just my work clothes.”

“You’re fine the way you are. Wanna let me in?”

“Oh, yeah.”

And so, Nigel entered Adam’s apartment and his life. 

They had dinner and talked about things. Adam learned that Nigel was in sales, and that he’d just moved here from Romania two months ago. Adam talked a little about his own work, and a lot about his hobbies. Nigel at least looked like he was listening, leaning with his elbows on the table and nodding every so often. 

“Sorry, I talk too much,” Adam said.

“Not at all. I could listen to you for hours. But do you want to know a secret?”

Adam tilted his head to the side. Was secret sharing appropriate? They just met each other. 

“If you want to tell me, then I guess so,” is what he decided on. 

“If I thought you were talking too much, I’d stop you like this,” Nigel replied. 

Then he leaned forward, fingertips light on Adam’s jaw, and placed a chaste, soft kiss on lightly parted lips. 

Adam’s face went hot. It was all escalating so much faster than he thought it would. His heart raced in his chest, shoulders tightening as panic set in. It was as though Nigel sensed it.

“Darling, relax,” he’s said. “Come. Sit on the couch with me.”

He didn’t wait for Adam to agree. He got up, took Adam’s hand, and pulled him to the couch. When they sat, he was all over Adam. Touching—groping—Adam’s body and mouthing at his jaw and neck. Another wave of panic crashed down on Adam’s head, and Nigel soothed it with soft, gentle words.

“You’re so beautiful. I saw you and knew I just had to have you. Be mine, angel. Be mine and let me show you how much I love you.”

Insane. Overwhelming. Adam had never encountered this before. Immediately, he began trying to make sense of it. He thought that maybe it was normal for things to happen like this. Maybe that’s why Beth had requested they take it slow, because the alternative was going very fast. 

And Nigel’s lips did feel good on Adam’s skin. Each brushing kiss sent tingling sparks of pleasure down his spine, and he could feel his cock growing stiff in his pants. 

It was a strange, upsetting, and confusing contradiction of emotions, but Nigel helped him through it. 

Right there on the couch, he rubbed Adam’s cock through his pants until he came. Then he didn’t leave. He stayed all night long, and Adam lost his anal virginity that night, too. 

It wasn’t until the following afternoon that Nigel left, hanging around even while Adam worked from home. Anxiety clawed at the back of Adam’s mind. The disruption to his scheduled solitude in combination with everything that happened last night was straining the last of his very carefully built self-control. But he did not tell Nigel to go home.

He wanted Nigel already. He just needed time to adjust.

So now, nearly a year later, he’s more than used to Nigel.

They moved in together a few months ago, and since then Adam doesn’t even have the job anymore. Nigel noticed how stressed it was making him, and told him he had to quit. 

“You can rely on me. I’ve got more than enough money to last us both a few lifetimes.”

“I appreciate that, but I don’t want to.”

Nigel had gone stony. Adam scrambled to correct himself.

“We’re not married or anything, and so if I rely on you then that could be bad for me. What if you dump me? Then I wouldn’t have a job.”

Nigel laughed at that. Hard. So long and loud that Adam started to feel stupid. He turned, face going red and hands balling into fists beneath the kitchen table.

“That’s not going to happen, Adam. No fucking chance. But if you want to get married, we can get married.”

“T-that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what I’m saying. Let’s get married. That way, you can trust I’ll provide for us both. And you won’t have to spend all day every day on the phone with those jackasses.”

“I don’t know about this.”

“You don’t have to know. Trust me instead.”

Maybe it was foolish, but Adam found that he wanted to try. 

Then, after a stressful meeting the following day, he threw his hands up and decided that Nigel was right. There was no point in dealing with this if he didn’t have to. Not when he could instead be focusing on his personal projects and hobbies all day, every day.

“I think that you’re right, Nigel. We should get married.”

And so it was from the frying pan and into the fire.

The minute that ring was on Adam’s finger, it was like a switch flipped in Nigel’s head. 

His standards got a lot higher, and his possessive attitude drifted from “intense, but not alarming” into “disturbing.”

“Did you see the way that guy was looking at you? And you looked at him too. Do you want to fuck him?”

“No!”

“Please, don’t lie to me, star. I saw the look on your face.”

“I don’t feel that way! Stop putting words in my mouth! You don’t know what goes on in my head, only I do.”

“Don’t get loud with me.”

“Or else what?”

Nigel had surged forward, hand rough in Adam’s curls and pulling hard.

“What if I taped your pretty mouth shut, huh? Keep you from telling lies.”

Pain prickled through Adam’s scalp, making his eyes water and his hands grasp uselessly at the strong muscle of Nigel’s forearm.

“I’m not lying and I don’t know why you’re so insecure! I love you! And I don’t lie!”

Nigel dropped him. Adam collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving and rubbing at his tender scalp.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I just can’t help myself. You’re so perfect, way too good for an old fuck up like me. You’ll realize it. I know you will. Find some other man to fuck you and to hold you at night.”

“Stop it! Just stop it. We’re married, Nigel. D-do you really think I’d do that you? Why don't you trust me?”

Nigel had given him a wounded look, then turned away. 

The silence was like an anvil over Adam’s head. He knew he had to figure out a way to handle this new version of Nigel. Or maybe find a way to change him. Seeing him like this hurt so bad, and Adam knew that if he could just be better somehow, Nigel wouldn’t get like this. He needed help him to feel better about himself. 

“I’m sorry. I love you and I just want you to see it too. I want you to believe me. What would make you feel better? I can’t fix anything if you don’t tell me what you want. You know how hard it is for me,” Adam said, voice tight as he tried to find the right way to say what he was feeling.

Swaying, heavy silence followed. Adam swallowed hard. His hand drifted to Nigel’s scarred shoulder, thumb working in gentle, slow circles on the skin there. 

“Please give me a chance,” Adam whispered. 

“Okay. Then I want you to stay home unless we’re together. And when we’re outside, if you see a man, then you look at the fucking ground. You’re good at that anyway.”

“Okay.” Adam’s grip tightened on Nigel’s shoulder. “I can do that”

“And don’t complain.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“I’m taking that as a promise. And another thing, Adam?”

“Yes?”

“I want you to say sorry again.”

And so that’s how their verbal contract was sealed. 

Adam hasn’t been out in the world in six months since then. It’s given him a lot of time to think. He’s even done some research on his situation. 

One thing he knows, is that he does love Nigel. But this isn’t healthy. It can’t be. Adam had coworkers, and they went out all the time. Separately and with their parters. Adam heard all about it on the slack channels he never responded in. So he’d done some internet searching, using a private browser while Nigel was engaged doing something else or out of the house entirely.

Adam knows now that he is in an abusive relationship. 

Nigel hasn’t ever hit him, but there’s been hair pulling, slapping, and some sex that Adam wasn’t ready for. Though all of that is quite rare nowadays. But not being allowed out by himself... That’s not good, either. 

After all, being restricted to this apartment carries the implicit promise of a punishment, doesn’t it? Of some kind of consequence? He isn’t sure he wants to find out what the punishment would be.

But the thing is, there’s a part of him that doesn’t really care that he can’t go outside. 

Life is better like this. 

Time flows between his fingers and out of sight forever, with days bleeding into weeks and then into months. But he has Nigel. Nigel is a near-constant presence. He works, but the hours are irregular and he seems to be able to take a day off whenever he wants to. Though recently he’s been out more and more, which disrupts Adam’s peace. It’s disrupting it a lot.

What’s worse is that Adam has suspected for a while now that Nigel hasn’t been honest about his profession. All the signs point towards some sort of illicit activity, but Adam doesn’t know the exact nature of it. It both worries him and makes him curious. 

If Nigel is into any sort of illegal activity that involves the use of guns, then he might be in danger any time he leaves their apartment. 

If that were the case, then it would be best if he could find away to get out of that business so they could stay at home together forever. They’d be safe that way. 

Idly, he wonders if there are any clues around the apartment that could tell him what exactly it is that Nigel does.

Nigel is definitely lying. That question is settled in Adam’s mind. He wants to know exactly what Nigel is covering up. 

He rises to his feet and considers for a moment with his hands on his hips before going to their bedroom. 

There are a few places Nigel might hide something in here. The nightstand, the closet, and under the bed. The nightstand seems like the easiest place to check first, and he opens its drawer half expecting to find a gun. He finds no such thing. Just the remote to the stereo in their bedroom and a near-empty tube of lubricant. 

Maybe he’s started off on the wrong trail. They have an office, and there is a locked file cabinet in there. Adam told Nigel that all those things are digitized nowadays, but Nigel had shaken his head.

“I just feel more confident with paper in my hand, starlight. Forgive an old man, will you?”

There’s just one problem; where’s the key?

So Adam goes digging. He searches through every drawer in the desk, then in the pockets of Nigel’s jackets, then in a box he finds when he goes back to the closet. He doesn’t find the key in any of these places, nor anything incriminating, but the curiosity is still not sated. He keeps looking.

And eventually, he finds it. 

On the top of the bookshelf, tucked inside a pocket-sized bible. The key is small with just two teeth. This lock must not be very secure, so Adam thinks that the cabinet isn’t the hiding place. 

But Adam is curious now, and there’s no putting him off when he’s curious. He’ll be thinking about this filing cabinet all night if he doesn’t open it.

Adam goes to the cabinet and slides the little key into the lock. There’s a weak sounding click. The cabinet slides open, and it feels heavy. 

At first it looks empty, but then when Adam leans down and looks a bit further inside, he sees a big, steel safe. There’s a number pad on the front, and Adam tilts his head to the side.

That’s interesting. And significantly harder to break in to. If he just knew how many numbers the code is, he’d be able to calculate how many combinations there are. 

Tentatively, Adam reaches in and presses a button on the number pad. Red horizontal lines appear on a little screen at the top. Five of them. That means there are 100,000 possible options. 

Checking all combinations one by one won’t be feasible.

Deflated, Adam closes the drawer and puts the key back where he found it. Looks like he won’t be solving the mystery of Nigel’s occupation this evening. He heads back to the living room and flops on the couch. He grabs his laptop off the coffee table and begins surfing his favorite space forum. 

The hours fly by until the tumbler in the lock of the front door is turning. Nigel’s home. Adam blinks, groaning a little when he realizes how dry his eyes have gotten from staring at the screen, and puts the laptop to the side. He sits up and peers over the back of the couch.

“Welcome home,” he says when the door opens, like he always does.

“Hey, baby. How’s it going?”

Nigel’s words are a little slurred. He must have been drinking. 

“It went okay. Do you want some water? You’re going to be hungover again.”

“Sure. Can you get me a slice of that banana bread too?”

Adam nods and hops to his feet. He goes to the kitchen and starts getting everything together. He doesn’t like banana bread himself. The texture doesn’t agree with his palate, but they’ve got some lemon cakes and he grabs one of those. 

Snacks in hand, he makes his way back to the living room. Nigel is sitting there. His loudly patterned shirt is hanging open at the front, revealing his chest hair and Adam winces. Why does he look like that? Have other people seen him like that?

“I wish you’d stay home with me more often,” he blurts out. 

Nigel’s brow rises, then his lip quirks in a smile. “Is that so?”

“Yes. You’re going out most nights of the week recently, and I don’t like it. And I don’t understand why you’re doing it, either. You keep me in this apartment and then leave, so I’m just alone. It’s making me feel l-like you don’t want me.”

That seems to strike a sore spot. Nigel’s smile fades, and he leans back, rubbing at his jaw with the heel of his hand. Adam’s hands begin to tremble. He walks stiffly over to the couch and sits on the opposite end, drawing his knees up and hugging them in an effort to calm himself.

Moments pass. Eventually, Nigel scoots closer. Adam jumps in his skin, braces himself, but Nigel just gently puts his hand on Adam’s knee. 

“My apologies. There’s just been a lot of shit going on, and I’m not really partying when I’m out there. Sometimes business and booze go together, is all.”

Adam hums. He’s torn. He wants Nigel to tell him the truth, but there’s a big chance that if Adam says anything about it, Nigel will get angry. The dilemma locks him in place, and he stays silent.

“Come on. I don’t want to fight. It is what it is. And in fact, it’s all over now. Tonight was the last time. It’ll be back to business as usual.”

He lightly slaps Adam’s knee and grimaces when Adam jolts.

“We’ll spend so much quality time together. I’ve missed you, baby. I mean that. Love you so fucking much—”

Nigel cuts himself off by lurching forward and catching Adam in a deep kiss. His hand comes up to cup Adam’s jaw and his tongue automatically presses into Adam’s mouth. Adam moans into it, genuinely thankful for the soft touch, and pours himself into the kiss. It’s sloppy. Adam’s nerves are a little frayed and Nigel’s more than a little drunk, but it feels good and Adam is reminded how much he likes this side of his husband.

Fiery, passionate, and so aggressive in a way that makes Adam’s blood run hot. 

“I got you a gift a few days ago, darling,” Nigel says when he breaks the kiss, breath coming heavy against Adam’s cheek. “Wait right here, I’ll go get it.”

“Okay,” Adam murmurs. But Nigel is walking towards the office.

The office.

Sudden, petrifying doubt. A pit forms in Adam’s stomach. Did he lock the cabinet? Is Nigel even opening the cabinet? Adam’s hand flies up to grab the top of the couch. His legs feel like jelly as he tries to pull himself upright. 

Adam was snooping earlier, and if Nigel figures that out, he might be angry. Oh, oh no. 

Something metallic slams shut in the office. Adam collapses back on the couch. Fear has turned him into a fainting goat, and he can’t seem to make himself move. His eyes roll in his skull he gazes at the slices of cake, still untouched on their coffee table. Hopefully they’ll still get to eat them and neither one of them will be crying while it happens.

Nigel comes back into the room without a sound. Adam doesn’t move. Doesn’t turn his head even when Nigel rounds the couch to stand before him. 

“What were you doing?”

The tone is soft. Too soft. Adam is very familiar with that tone by now. Nigel’s angry. Adam swallows hard, tries to push through the iron weight in his gut that’s threatening to explode into panic like a neutron star.

“I got curious,” he says faintly.

“Curious? What about?”

“I don’t think you’re telling me the truth about your job.”

“Are you calling me a fucking liar?”

“No. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. I don’t care if it was a lie, or a half-truth. I know you do that sometimes. But if you get hurt then e-everything would fall apart.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth, hmm? Maybe this isn’t even the first time you’ve gone digging. Maybe you already knew about the fucking safe, and you want what’s in there. Being a fucking safe, it probably has money inside. Money you could use to leave.”

A flare of irritation at that. Why? Why won’t Nigel ever believe that Adam doesn’t want to leave?

“No!” Adam yells, louder than he almost ever is anymore. “Don’t! You’re confusing! I don’t want to argue about this again!”

He takes a deep breath, and swipes at his face to brush away tears he hadn’t realized were already flowing. His chest rattles as he speaks. 

“I was worried and curious and that’s it. I’m sorry for snooping, I won’t do it again but please believe that I don’t want to leave you.” Another shuddering breath. “I never want to leave you. Why would I be asking for you to stay here more often?” He laughs, and it sounds wet. “You don’t make any sense sometimes.”

Nigel softens. 

“Fuck. Alright, fine. I believe you. But you should have talked to me about this. Not gone looking through my stuff like some nosy, neurotic fucking housewife.”

“I’m sorry,” Adam repeats. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

“It better fucking not.”

“It won’t. But will tell me the truth? I promise, whatever it is, I won’t want to leave.”

Nigel sits on the couch again, right up close beside Adam again. He pulls him into a tight hug. Again, Adam melts. 

“You remember me talking about Gabi, before?”

Adam nods. “Once or twice.”

“And you know she’s my ex-wife. Well, she found out what I do, darling. She didn’t like it. She fucked off with some smelly American brat and threw our love in the fucking furnace.”

“I bet that hurt, didn’t it?”

Nigel barks out a laugh. “It really fucking did. So when I met you, I wanted to keep it all separate. What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”

“Yes it can.”

“Be that as it may, you can see that I had my reasons. Can’t you?”

Adam’s brow furrows. “I guess, but you’re still not telling me.” For a moment, Adam feels compelled to call him a liar. His jaw aches with it. Because it’s true. Nigel is a liar. But Adam knows he can’t say that.  

Nigel sighs. “Alright. How about I tell you soon, but not now. Give me a chance to gather the courage.” 

If there is any dishonesty dripping from Nigel’s words, Adam can’t hear it. That seems fair enough. “Okay. I’m sorry, again.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Nigel plants a kiss in Adam’s curls, then gives him a tight hug.

“Let’s get to bed, shall we?”

Adam knows it’s not really a question. He nods, and turns the lights in the apartment off as he follows Nigel to the bedroom.

This part is easy, at least. 

When it comes to sex, they’re very compatible. Even the rough treatment is satisfying in a way Adam wouldn’t have imagined. He’s always been sexually open, but Nigel pushes it to new limits. Choking, slapping, biting, whipping, and rough fucking that leaves Adam’s hole sore and his muscles weak.

Sometimes Nigel apologizes afterwards when it gets a little too intense, and that’s enough for Adam. It’s never been truly frightening, though sometimes Adam rushes to check his hole afterwards, panicked that maybe some real damage has finally been done. But It never is. He’s always just being paranoid.

So he trusts Nigel. 

When they’re wrapped up together, Nigel’s love radiates off of him in waves. And honestly, he lays more kisses than bruises on Adam’s skin. The strength in his muscles wraps Adam up tight and tells him that he’ll always be held. Adam wouldn’t be able to put these thoughts into words precisely, but he feels it.

“I’m sorry,” he says again as he’s being laid down on the bed. “It’s just that I got curious, and bored since you’ve been away so often.”

“Your computer not enough to keep you satisfied tonight? You spend hours on that thing without breaking a sweat.”

Embarrassed, hot blush spreads on Adam’s cheeks. “It’s not the same when you’re gone. Even if we aren’t talking while we’re together.”

A subtle smile spreads on Nigel’s face, and he leans to kiss Adam’s forehead.

“Take your clothes off, angel. We’re going to have some fun.”

Adam nods, curls bouncing, and immediately does as he’s told. He throws his clothing into the laundry hamper and smiles. He’s still shaky from the confrontation, but things seem okay, all things considered. Nigel is smiling and affectionate, and they’re going to have sex. It feels almost silly now to have gotten so worried. 

“Can we cuddle a little first?”

“I’m afraid you’ve got me too worked up for that.”

“Oh, okay. Then what should I do?”

Nigel laughs. “Hang your head over the side of the bed. I’m going to fuck your face.”

Adam’s mouth thins in a line. The light of his arousal dims a degree. They don’t do this often, but it’s difficult every time. Adam loves sucking Nigel’s cock, but that’s different than this. Adam’s throat tingles with memory, his hand drifting up to cup lightly around his neck.

“Go on,” Nigel says, low and velvet. The hair on the back of Adam’s neck stands up.

Slowly, he moves into position. Nigel disrobes at the same time. Adam can hear the soft shuffling of fabric hitting the floor, and his neck immediately starts aching when he hangs his head into the air. Idly, he tells himself that he needs to do more stretches so this won’t be so hard.

“Open wide.”

Adam’s lips part.

No preamble, no foreplay. Nigel’s cockhead slides into Adam’s mouth and then to the back of his throat. Adam gags, tears forming in his eyes already. He’s got a lot of practice with this, but it’s always hard. Nigel is very well endowed, and rough in his treatment since he knows Adam is good at this.

“Mm, fuck yeah,” Nigel groans. 

He leans forward, halfway lying on top of Adam, shoving his cock as deep into Adam’s throat as physically possible. He’s a heavy weight on Adam’s chest and his balls press against Adam’s nose, suffocating him. Nigel grinds his hips in and pulls out just long enough for Adam to take great heaving breaths before pushing himself back in again. Drool gathers at the corners of Adam’s mouth and soon he’s a wet, sloppy mess, saliva and tears smeared from cheek to chin.

The pace of Nigel’s hips picks up, turning quick and violent. Gasps and gurgles escape Adam’s throat in wet, obscene squelches as Nigel pounds into it, using the tender, delicate passage like a sex toy. It’s like he’s jerking off with Adam’s throat. It’s a miracle that all Adam does is gag, but he still claws at Nigel’s thighs, and pulls himself away from the onslaught at the first possible opportunity.

“Wait!” His voice is so rough, scratchy and weak.

His head is spinning. Nigel’s wet cock slides against his cheek, his balls dragging over the planes of Adam’s forehead with each lazy rut.

“Time's up,” Nigel replies.

Then there’s a hand reaching down, fingers digging into Adam’s jaw to force him back into position.

“No! Not yet!”

“Oh, don’t be such a little bitch about it,” Nigel hisses.

Something flips in Adam’s stomach, hot and humiliated. His throat burns and he can feel his nose threatening to run. His eyes leak a constant stream of tears, and he realizes that in this position, Nigel could touch him too, but he’s not. 

“You’re being selfish,” Adam says.

“Excuse me?”

Suddenly, there’s nothing but air on top of Adam. It’s blissful. Merciful. But then he’s being dragged onto the bed again.

“Wha—”

Nigel climbs on with him, straddling Adam’s chest with knees on either side of his body. Adam stares up at him, eyes wide as he takes in the hard planes and the field of hair stretching from Nigel’s chest down to his crotch, where his hand is moving in a quick, jerky rhythm.

Realization.

“Not on my face! We’ve talked about this!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Nigel says, then slaps Adam lightly on the cheek. “Open your mouth.”

Miserable, Adam does as he’s told. There’s no use fighting once Nigel has made up his mind.

Adam’s eyes close, and he waits. The slick, vulgar noises of Nigel touching himself dig their way into Adam’s brain. Slow and sticky, then fast and clicking as the foreskin slips back and forth over Nigel’s fat, deep pink cockhead. Adam’s stomach winds in preparation for what he knows will be an awful sensation, but no amount of bracing himself ever truly prepares him for Nigel’s semen on his face. 

Nigel comes. He grunts as his throbbing cock sprays ropes of hot, sticky white. It coats in a thick film, dripping from Adam’s brow and nose, pooling in his eyes and effectively gluing them shut. Some splashes into his mouth, but not much. It almost feels like Nigel has intentionally skipped it.

“Tissue!” Adam immediately pleads. He can feel how his eyelashes are sticking together in heavy clumps. His skin crawls everywhere the fluid soaks his skin.

“You’re much too pretty like that to wipe it away so soon. I think you should leave it like that for a while.”

“Please, it’s—”

“I’m not asking you for much. You love me, right?”

“Yes!”

“And you’re sorry for what you did?”

“YES!”

“Then take your punishment, and we can pretend like it never happened. That’s what I want, baby. I want to trust you again.”

Adam moans, miserable, but doesn’t argue any further. He lets out a quiet, hiccuping sob, and curses himself for being so nosy. He’s not normally like that, and he should have known to trust Nigel even if Nigel was staying out too long. 

Nigel’s semen is thick on Adam’s face, dripping off his nostrils, and with each passing moment it dries and begins to make his skin itchy. It’s like thousands of little drills digging into each pore, amplified in a way that Nigel wouldn’t ever be able to comprehend. 

All he knows is that this bothers Adam. Maybe he wouldn’t do this to Adam if he knew how bad it really feels. 

That has to be the case. Nigel isn’t trying to be mean. He’s just upset. Adam did do a bad thing today, after all.

“Touch yourself,” Nigel commands.

Hand shaking, Adam does as he’s told. His hand drifts to his crotch and he palms at his soft cock, coughing quietly every couple of moments as he strokes himself hard. Luckily, his body cooperates, and the pleasure blooming between his legs is an oasis. 

It’s good, it’s warm. And best of all, it’s evidence that Nigel does love him and he’s not just being mean for fun. He wouldn’t let Adam come if he was really mad.

The skin on Adam’s face crawls and itches, and the bitter, acrid smell of Nigel’s come is deep in his sinuses.

His throat burns all the while, and he’s breathing as delicately as he can even as his pleasure mounts, balls drawing up and cock leaking onto his fingers. 

“That’s right, baby.” Nigel sounds nothing but loving right now.

Despite the searing in his throat and lungs, Adam is elated. He lets go of his cock on instinct, assuming Nigel will want to be inside him now.

He assumes correctly, and smiles the tight, crazed smile of someone rescued from the gallows when Nigel wipes his eyes clean with his shirt, showers him in kisses, licks away his tears, and lays him out on their bed. 

“Pillow under your hips, I want to fuck you face to face.”

Adam grabs his own pillow and slides it under his ass. It’ll need to be washed before they go to bed, but Adam doesn’t mind the extra load of laundry. How could he, when Nigel is crawling over top of him, caging him in with his lithe but solid body.

Nigel hands Adam the lube from the nightstand. “Get my cock nice and wet.” 

Another command that Adam follows. His fingers shake as he squirts a generous amount out onto his palm. He bites his lip, gaze flitting to Nigel’s face before he reaches between the two of them and wraps his hand around Nigel’s cock, spreading the lubricant everywhere in slow, dragging strokes.

“Perfect,” Nigel says, then he lowers himself back down again.

Their faces hover close to each other, and for a moment it looks like Nigel is avoiding him because of the mess but to Adam’s shock, Nigel catches him in a kiss, tongue dragging over his own semen on Adam’s bottom lip.

At the same time, he pushes himself inside.

Adam draws in a rattling breath, his arms curling under Nigel’s arms for his hands to rest on Nigel’s shoulders.

“Wrap your legs around me, star.”

That’s as natural as breathing. Adam does as he’s told, lifts his hips and bears down to draw Nigel further in.

From there it goes like it always does. Adam clings, riding a thin edge between misery and pulsing pleasure as Nigel splits him open so well. Wet claps ring out in the room as Nigel fucks into Adam’s well trained, puffy hole. Adam’s nails drag raised, white lines down Nigel’s back, and his cock strains where it’s trapped against his stomach.

Nigel kisses him the whole time. His eyes are shut, his brow furrowed. He rubs his cheek against Adam’s without reservation, heedless of covering his face with his own semen. 

Adam’s hips and throat ache, but soon he can feel himself throbbing, feel his hole tightening rhythmically around the wonderful, cleansing thing inside of him. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Nigel grunts, gripping Adam tight, hips stuttering. “Gonna come, gonna fill you up. Say you love me, Adam. Say it.”

“I love you!” Adam cries it as loudly as he can, but his voice is destroyed and it comes out as a gurgled chain of dissonant syllables.

But that’s enough for Nigel. He grinds in deeper, tilts his cock to hit against Adam’s prostate with every shallow rut. Adam’s vision goes white, his mouth falling open wide as his orgasm slams through him, melding pleasure and pain, winding humiliation with satisfaction permanently into the very base of his mind.

Nigel comes immediately after. He delivers a few violent, slow thrusts and then empties his balls into Adam’s ass, biting harsh at Adam’s neck as he does. His sharpest incisor slices in and Adam hisses, fingers skidding along Nigel’s slick skin as he suddenly tries to push him off.

Breathing heavy, Nigel leans up. He leers down at Adam whose cheeks are ruddy and filthy. 

“I forgive you,” Nigel says. “But you’re not going anywhere for two weeks, so I can feel like I trust you again. Do you understand?”

Adam swallows.

Nigel is beautiful. Nigel is clever. Nigel is loving, passionate, and mean. Most of all, he’s Adam’s. They’re each other’s. There’s only one answer.

“I understand.”