My Other Half // PRIVATE with Crocs

"Lair." Nikolas unwrapped the arm around Markus and reached down with both hands, feeling the contours and outlines of Markus' stomach to say otherwise. He turned his head slightly to the side, just enough so he could look up at Markus with one eye. He got what he wanted, and he was happy with what he's been given so far.

But he also wondered what Markus wanted from Nikolas, besides being a total mess while he messed with his spine. He lifted his head as he wrapped his arms around Markus' shoulders and met the boy's gaze, head tilted slightly in question. "What do you want from me?" he whispered, not too shy to ask. He was hardly ever shy, save for when he was a flustered mess.

Nikolas' eyes widened slightly, pausing in any and all movement. He wasn't expecting that. Markus had made his status of 'not gay' pretty clear when the soulmate thing was first discovered, and a small part of Nikolas had thought that some of it still existed, that this moment was just an anomaly that would never happen again. This was something new.

"Okay," he murmured, wrapping his arms around Markus' waist and leaning forward to rest his head on Markus' shoulder. He pressed a small kiss to the skin there but did nothing else. He thought that Markus might want to get to sleep soon, but Nikolas wasn't about to force him anytime soon. This was too good to give up.

"You're warm," Nikolas mumbled, burying his face further into Markus' neck. His hands moved on their own, though it was only his wrists twisting so he could trace thoughtless patterns over the boy's back. He wanted to keep doing this, wanted to continue to be able to hold Markus and be held by him. He didn't realize just how attached he had gotten to the boy until tonight, when he had made the first move.

Nikolas tilted his head when he felt Markus shift, then his eyes widened and he let out a soft yelp. He fucking…! He gripped onto Markus and froze as he was being lifted. This was incredibly new to him. Never once has he been lifted up before, and yet here he was, easily being scoped up by this boy he clung to. "Markus?!" he managed to get out, eyes still wide.

Nikolas glared up at Markus, though his grin made him pause. He stared up at the smiling and clearly amused boy for some time, then blinked and narrowed his eyes. He couldn't muster up a snarky response, so he settled for a dramatic sigh, even as he leaned into Markus a bit. He felt strangely happy to be in Markus' arms—comfortable, like he was meant to be there. He wouldn't argue with that feeling. "Just give me a warning next time," he murmured.

"No, no one has," he muttered, averting his gaze shyly. Oh, how the tables have turned once again. Markus was the one in control this time, and just that was enough to make Nikolas shy and quiet. He lifted his eyes up to Markus' face to see him already staring at him, causing a very faint rosy tint to his cheeks to bloom. "What?" he weakly challenged. He wasn't able to move away from Markus, but there was also the matter of his own reluctance to do so. This was all so new to him.

"I'm in an unfamiliar situation," he grumbled, "And believe it or not, I don't handle unfamiliar gracefully." Nikolas took the opportunity to distract himself, hiding his eyes from Markus' gaze by tracking his hands movements. He slid his fingers down the boy's chest, feeling his skin beneath his knuckles. Nikolas was only the way he was from practice, and it wasn't even that long since he was in a permanent state of gay panic. If something new came up, such as being picked up and carried around, his spine being messed with, or being called adorable, that old panic rose up. And right now, Markus wasn't doing Nikolas any favors, even if he wasn't overly opposed to any of it.

"Go to sleep, ya nerd," Nikolas whispered with a fond smile, even as he nuzzled his face against Markus' chest to hide his darkening blush. His hand moved over Markus' chest and stomach slowly, continuing in his small exploration. He just wanted to touch him now, to feel his warm skin and the curves of his muscles. He didn't know when Markus suddenly got the courage to mess with Nikolas, but he definitely wasn't super opposed to it.

Nikolas closed his eyes and leaned into Markus, arms curling between their chests as he curled up against the boy holding him. His steady breaths hit Markus' skin each time he exhaled, and Nikolas could scent him each time he breathed in. He knew Markus wouldn't want to let him go, even during the night, so he gave into the strangely present tug to sleep.

Nikolas murmured in his sleep, switching between Greek and English. He no longer felt the warm embrace of Markus. His skin was cold and clammy, though he didn't toss and turn. There was no reason to when he was paralyzed. He did tremble, though. A lot. Eventually, he curled up and shook, and a small whimper escaped his lips. He wasn't in his beloved treehouse, he wasn't in his bed or lying on top of Markus, he was someplace bad, someplace that fueled his nightmares.

Nikolas tensed as Markus moved him, then his eyes flew open and he was trying to move back out of instinct. But then he saw those familiar dark eyes and that rolling and amazing Southern accent. His chest heaved with pants as he pressed his palms against the boy's chest, as if feeling if he was real, if this whole place was real. He slowly came back to reality, slowly started to feel those circles on his back. He let out a small and shaky breath, trying to calm down.

Nikolas opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn't form the correct words—at least the correct English words. He was too muddled, too wound up and confused to use his second language properly. So he settled for wrapping his arms around Markus' waist and pressing his face against the boy's chest, grateful for those deep and steadying breaths. He still trembled slightly, his body still covered in a thin sheen of cold sweat. Memories still played before his eyes, and he opened them quickly and forced himself to breathe.

Nikolas shuddered when he felt those lips on his neck, instantly distracted. He curled his fingers against Markus' back, careful to not scratch him. "Ah…Mmhm," he managed to mumble with a weak nod, tipping his head to the side slightly. His mind wasn't on his nightmare anymore, but on how Markus' lips had felt against his neck. Another thing he wasn't used to—neck kisses. He was usually the one giving them instead of receiving them, and his neck was sensitive like his spine. Perhaps not quite as sensitive, but still sensitive.

"Not particularly, no," Nikolas mumbled, finally able to form words. God, now that he was awake and could hear it, he loved Markus' accent in the morning. He loved it in general, but the morning roughness made it even better. His eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted a fraction, savoring those kisses. He melted into Markus even as he tipped his head far enough to give the male better access to his neck.

Nikolas' hand found the back of Markus' neck while the other one moved up to rest against the boy's chest, not pressing against him this time. Damn him and his lips. Nikolas could barely form words. "Mornin'," he murmured, shivering as he felt Markus' breath against his skin as he spoke against his neck. "I hate you," he breathed with a soft growl to his voice, fingers digging into Markus' chest for a second to emphasize that.