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The penthouse is empty when Brandon gets there. He dumps his schoolbag on the couch and paces. He paces from the living room to the kitchen, then to the dining room, leaving a trail of water behind him. He’s thinking the whole time. Brandon’s lost in thoughts of Nikolai; how he looked tied up in the Elite’s basement, how shallow his breathing was while asleep in the hospital bed. He thinks of Nikolai’s texts and the aggression that had seeped through Brandon’s cellphone.
The last thing he texted Nikolai was; Are you okay? Glyn said you were, but I want to hear it from you.
Nikolai had read it, but never replied. It’s been an entire hour. Brandon wants to text him again, but fears looking desperate. Nikolai would have a field day if Brandon caves and starts texting like a clingy girlfriend.
Like a clingy girlfriend - as if Brandon was doing anything to prove otherwise. Right after he finished volunteering, Brandon came straight to the penthouse. He didn’t care that the rain had picked up halfway through his trek and had him completely drenched when he stepped into the elevator. All he could think of was Nikolai .
When is Nikolai going to get here?
Is he going to come here at all ?
Fuck! The man was a parasite, latching onto Brandon’s psyche and never letting go. He hated that he cared - he cared about Nikolai, he cared about how Nikolai perceived him .
Brandon took out his phone for the hundredth time and checked their texts. Still nothing. Nikolai only ghosts him when he’s pissed off with him.
He tosses his phone on the couch and runs his fingers through his sopping hair. His hand settles on his nape, tugging mindlessly until the stinging is too much to bear. What was Nikolai doing right now? Was he at the fight club? At the mansion? He sure as fuck wasn’t in the penthouse.
Brandon feels himself spiralling and losing control - his head is all light and airy, like it's trying to detach itself from his body. His feet are trapped, though. Trapped in the murky, swirling ink that licks at his heels.
Fuck. Fuck.
Just stay calm , Brandon orders himself. Just calm the fuck down .
He squeezes his eyes shut and listens to his heartbeat, pounding in his ears against the rain that beats against the penthouse’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Calm down .
No one else is here. He’s safe. Brandon reminds himself, he’s safe in the penthouse .
He needs to thank Nikolai for the gift of the penthouse - a secret place where only he and Nikolai know the passcode.
Brandon goes to the window and looks at the city below. The grey sky is slowly turning black as evening descends; lights from other buildings twinkle like stars in the cloudy haze of the storm. Is Nikolai down there? Brandon wants to know - he craves an answer.
Christ, this is going nowhere. All Brandon can do is work with what he has.
What does he have?
Brandon turns and looks at the penthouse. He has an entire apartment before him, and soaked-through clothes on his body. With a deep sigh, Brandon goes to the bedroom and strips down to nothing. He towels off before slipping on an old lacrosse shirt and pair of briefs he left a few weeks ago. In just those, Brandon takes the wet clothes and throws them into the washing machine with a hefty amount of detergent and fabric softener before taking a rag to wipe up the water he’s dripped everywhere.
That makes him feel better - first the distraction, then the semblance of order.
It’s fine. It’s fine if Nikolai doesn’t come; it’s fine if Brandon texts him again.
In the living room, he finds his cellphone where he left it and shoots Nikolai one more text.
I’m at the penthouse if you want to talk.
Brandon won’t admit it, but it takes him nearly ten minutes to type that text and send it. He edits it four times, stares down at it, and reconsiders pressing send until he shuts his eyes and hits the little blue arrow.
It sends. The text stays unread for one minute. Two minutes. Three minutes-
Dejected, Brandon drops his phone back on the couch, face down. He doesn’t want to see if Nikolai texts him back. He just wants him here.
Brandon wanders to the bedroom and flops onto the bed. The stormy weather and the stress of the day left him exhausted, and in dire need of a good nap. He usually never takes naps, but Brandon decides he deserves a nice treat.
The huge windows in the bedroom show him the same panorama as the living room - tall buildings in the black gloom of night. Brandon rolls onto his side and in each illuminated window, he sees little abstracts of other peoples’ lives.
He sees kitchens where dinner is being made and living rooms and TVs playing the evening news. There’s an older man staring out at the rain when a rumbling clap of thunder sounds. And in another… Christ. Brandon snorts when he sees a room lit in red light and two bodies moving against each other. He can’t make out any discernible shapes or faces, but he’s positive those two people are fucking.
They can’t see Brandon in his dark bedroom. They’re so far away, he’s certain they can’t see him.
Before Nikolai, Brandon would have been disgusted by the sight. He used to hate sex and saw it as a perfunctory act that all humans had to take part in, and if they didn’t, the great majority would look down on them. Nikolai helped change that.
When Brandon forced himself to fuck women, there had been expectations put on him in those moments of intimacy - he needed to be the one to take the lead. It was him hovering over Clara, invading her space and taking charge so that she would feel good. Brandon would always forget about himself and his pleasure.
That’s why everything is so easy with Nikolai - Nikolai likes being in charge. He gets all hot and riled up from making Brandon melt beneath him, and Brandon gets to bask in Nikolai’s undivided attention. Maybe that’s what Brandon likes; the attention.
“ You were made to take my cock. ” Nikolai said that when he fucked him. Brandon thinks there may be some truth to that statement.
His face gets hot as he remembers how easy sex with Nikolai is. Even when they’re at each other’s throats, fucking was never stilted or awkward. Not when Nikolai is in control and completely in tune with what Brandon likes. How did he figure Brandon out so quickly? Or is Brandon just so easy to read?
The more Brandon thinks about Nikolai, his body reacts. Thinking about his large, tattooed hands sliding down his waist, gripping his hips so hard he leaves bruises on Brandon’s unblemished skin. Of Nikolai’s clever tongue sliding and fucking into his mouth, until he’s moaning for more. Christ, Nikolai’s tongue is so skilled, Brandon can feel his dick chubbing up from just thinking about it.
That was the Nikolai effect; Brandon can’t say no to Nikolai, even when he isn’t there.
He shifts, sliding a hand under his pillow to curl up a little tighter, and his hand touches something that isn’t a silk pillowcase.
Frowning, Brandon grabs the cloth and pulls it out from under his head. He holds it up to see the outline in the dim light and nearly bursts out laughing. It’s a pair of boxers.
Can’t be his; Brandon wears briefs - they make his ass look better in khakis.
They have to be Nikolai’s. Probably from when Brandon did laundry weeks ago and dumped the freshly cleaned clothes on the bed to fold. They must have been pushed under the pillows and stayed there all this time.
Brandon grins lazily up at the boxers as a cheeky idea forms in his head.
He slowly lowers the boxers down, over his nose and mouth, then takes a deep breath.
Fuuuuck.
After spending however many weeks underneath Nikolai’s pillow, the boxers smell of Bergamot, spice, and subtly of mint. It goes straight to Brandon’s head like a hit from a blunt.
With one hand, he presses the underwear into his face, with the other, Brandon grinds the heel of his palm into his aching dick. The sensation is incredible.
Nikolai. Nikolai, Nikolai.
His hips jerk up against his palm to chase the friction.
“Fuck,” Brandon rolls onto his back as he remembers the feeling of Nikolai’s fingers opening him up. The feeling of Nikolai holding him - fucking him. His dick strains against his briefs.
Just a few months ago, Brandon considered himself as vanilla as possible when it came to sex. Doggy style was adventurous for him and Clara. Look how far he’s fallen; hard as a rock from sniffing his fuck buddies’ panties. Well, boxers.
Should he touch himself? Ever since he and Nikolai set up their arrangement, Brandon hasn’t had to jerk himself off when Nikolai was so eager to do it for him.
But Nikolai isn’t here.
After taking three deep breaths, Brandon slowly slides his hands down his stomach to the hem of his briefs. He hooks his thumbs under the elastics and pulls it off in one quick motion. In the bedside drawer, he finds lube and coats his hand with it before gripping his hard cock.
It takes a minute for him to find a comfortable rhythm, but he latches onto it when he does. Brandon takes the boxers and presses it against his nose, massaging Nikolai’s smell from them while jerking himself with shallow strokes. His movements are slow, deliberate, and send sparks up from his navel to his chest.
If Nikolai were here, he’s pinch and play with Brandon’s nipples until he was mewling - but Brandon only has so many hands. Regardless, he rucks up his shirt to expose his chest to the cool air.
There was something exciting about touching himself in front of the enormous window while inhaling Nikolai’s scent from his boxers. It felt dangerous - exposing, like anyone could turn their heads in the direction of the penthouse and see him, even though it would be impossible for them to catch a glimpse into the room.
What would Nikolai think? What would he say? Probably something insane and jealous - He would go nuclear at the thought of someone else sharing Brandon, even if it’s just to watch. He’d flip out and yell like he always does, because that’s just how Nikolai is. Brandon grins. Nikolai would hate this - people watching Brandon touch himself. That somehow makes it all the more hotter.
His hips move on their own accord, thrusting up into his wet hand. Bergamot and mint fill Brandon’s nose. Eyes sliding shut, Brandon finds himself lost in the rhythm, the movement. He could probably fall asleep like this, when-
“Well, what do we have here?”
His eyes snap open.
Jesus Christ .
In the darkness of the room, Brandon makes out a tall, built figure watching him. He nearly jumps out of his skin.
Nikolai, always expressive and unable to hide his emotions, is standing in the doorway with an impassive look on his face. His arms are crossed over his chest and the motion makes his forearms bulge against his pecs. His hair is a little damp from the rain, but he doesn’t seem to care; one hundred percent of his attention is on Brandon. Dark energy eminates from him.
Brandon yanks the pair of boxers off of his face and sits straight up. His stomach just about falls out of his ass as he scrambles to compose himself. Fuck, he hadn’t even heard Nikolai come in.
“Nikolai! I-I was-”
“Giving them a show, baby? Don’t let me stop you,” says Nikolai. His voice is hard like steel. “Keep going.”
Brandon stutters as he tries to explain himself. Humiliation burns hot across his skin like a third degree burn.
“I was just-”
Nikolai uncrosses his arms and comes closer, practically prowling. He takes the chair from the desk in the corner of the room and sets it next to the bed, then sits down heavily, leaning forward so that his elbows rest on his knees. His eyes never leave Brandon. The light from the other apartments illuminates Nikolai’s face, and now? He looks fucking pissed . The muscle in his jaw jumps every time he grits his teeth.
“You heard me the first time. Put that back on your face and keep. Going.”
Brandon looks down at the boxers in his hand and blushes hard.
“When did you get here?” he tries desperately to change the subject - it does nothing to assuage the embarrassment swelling in his chest.
“A little while ago. You said you were at the penthouse if I wanted to talk. So I’m here.” Nikolai tilts his head. “But I guess you got tired of waiting.”
“No, we should talk.” Brandon rises up and makes to stand up.
“Get your ass back on the fucking bed,” Nikolai orders. “Now, you can put those boxers against your face, or I can shove them in your mouth. Which is it?”
Brandon has to bite down a moan at that. His cock twitches, interested at the prospect of being manhandled. Part of him is a bit terrified at the expression on Nikolai’s face - another part of him wants to see where Nikolai is going to take this.
He lowers his ass back to the bed as ordered. He would have fought harder if he wasn’t so riled up.
“Go ahead baby.” Nikolai’s legs are wide open; Brandon thinks about crawling into the space there. Maybe getting on his knees and asking for forgiveness. “Show everyone how badly you want it.”
Brandon glances over to the window then back at Nikolai. This isn’t what he expected.
When they fuck, Nikolai has a chronic condition where he simply cannot keeps his hands to himself. Whether he’s gripping Brandon’s hips, his ass, or trailing his fingers over Brandon’s chest and back, he needs to put his hands on him.
This situation throws Brandon for a serious loop.
Nikolai just sits there, rubbing his hands together, massaging his knuckles as Brandon lays back down on the bed and takes the boxers in his hand. Looks like Nikolai isn’t planning on touching Brandon any time soon.
“So, you want me to… touch myself?”
A mean chuckle leaves Nikolai’s lips.
“Don’t play dumb, baby. You know what I want. Go on.”
Brandon suppresses a shudder. Nikolai’s voice is rough with emotion. He sounds angry - his voice goes straight to Brandon’s dick.
Nikolai wants a show? Brandon can do that. He can do whatever Nikolai wants him to do, just to spite him.
He covers his nose and mouth again and inhales, deep . He’s loud so that Nikolai can hear him when he exhales a shaky breath.
Pushing his head into the mattress, Brandon grips his throbbing cock again and strokes, making sure to drag his hand to the very tip before plunging back down to the base. His waist flexes so that the fine bones of his hips strain against his skin when he thrusts up and meets his hand. The stimulation is good, but it’s nowhere near as good as the feeling of Nikolai’s eyes on him. Those eyes, widening ever so slightly when Brandon lets out a quiet moan. Nikolai stares at him with unfiltered, unabashed lust as Brandon slowly fucks his fist.
Brandon doesn’t need to understand why Nikolai is so attracted to him, but he'll use it against him. He wants to make Nikolai regret ghosting him. He would make Nikolai lose control and regret asking him to do this.
When Brandon throws his head back, he exposes the straining muscles in his neck - the muscles Nikolai loves to kiss, bite, and mark up.
Come here, Brandon thinks, eyes meeting Nikolai’s. I know you want to.
He wonders what he looks like to him. Is his heavy-lidded gaze alluring enough? Is the way his abs tighten and move attractive? Brandon doesn’t have a clear, unbiased perspective of himself, all he knows is that it’s working.
“Fuck,” Nikolai murmurs, shifting in his seat. He’s hard as hell, straining in his pants. Brandon can see it at eye-level.
“Niko… hnng, Niko…! ” he pants into the boxers.
“You like my scent that much, baby?” Nikolai asks.
“Shut up,” Brandon groans.
“I should punish you for showing yourself off like this. I thought we were exclusive? ” Nikolai finally, finally reaches out and slides his enormous hand over Brandon’s stomach. He goes lower and lower, just above his achingly hard dick. “You have no idea how hurt I am.”
The hand glides up so that Nikolai can idly twist and pinch at Brandon’s nipples.
Brandon’s breaths stutter.
“I-I’m sorry, Niko. I’m sorry.”
“You know I hate that word.”
He pinches harder until Brandon’s back is lifting off the bed.
“ Fuck! I’m… I…”
That leaves Brandon at a loss for words.
“S’okay, baby. It’s okay. Do you know how you’re gonna make it up to me?” Nikolai whispers, rubbing his right nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re gonna put that slutty body to work. Come on, up.”
Brandon is ready to come; based on the tightness in his belly button and the way his heart pounds in his head, he’s on the edge. But he stops his hand and obeys, pushing himself up on jelly-like limbs. Nikolai snatches the boxers and chucks them to the side.
“You don’t need those, you got the real thing here, baby.” Nikolai joins Brandon on the bed, sitting at the top with his back against the headboard. With his legs spread out, Nikolai looks powerful. He pats his lap.
“C’mere.”
That has Brandon hesitating. Sitting on Nikolai’s lap, face to face - it’s somehow more intimate than anything they’ve done before, and for god’s sake, Nikolai’s been inside Brandon.
Swinging one leg over Nikolai’s, Brandon carefully bends his knees and seats himself. The denim is rough against his bare ass, and he can’t ignore the feeling of Nikolai’s hard cock. His arms automatically loop around Nikolai’s neck, and he lets him. Brandon cards his fingers through his wet hair.
The whole scene reminds Brandon of the night they met.
Nikolai picks up the lube Brandon had discarded. He opens it methodically and squirts some onto his finger. Brandon automatically lifts his ass, pressing his chest to Nikolai’s face so he has better access to his ass. Nikolai reaches around him, cupping his cheeks and spreading them.
Moments like this never fail to startle Brandon; they’re so in tune with each other, they know each other’s next moves. Brandon knows what Nikolai wants, and Nikolai knows what Brandon needs.
They’re perfect for each other - made for each other.
With his clean hand, Nikolai encircles Brandon’s waist. With his other one, he probes Brandon’s hole and carefully breaches.
The breath Brandon lets out is delicious and filled with relief. This feels right. This is where Nikolai belongs; between Brandon’s legs. Brandon thinks this as two fingers push in and fill him up.
“So tight,” Nikolai murmurs, gaze trained on Brandon’s face. “Always so tight for me here.”
He pumps his wrist and elicits a rough sound from Brandon. Every other stroke and crook of Nikolai’s deft fingers brushes his prostate and makes him shake all over. He throws his head back, eyes closed.
Nikolai noses at his chest, nipping at Brandon’s lacrosse shirt.
“This is in the way. I wanna see you.”
“Here,” Brandon moves to take it off, but Nikolai stops him. He takes the hem of the lacrosse shirt and lifts it, exposing Brandon’s abs and chest, level with his lips.
“Put that between your teeth.” He orders, and Brandon obeys. “Keep that there until I say so. Alright?”
Mouth full, Brandon nods. The fabric moistens and silences him.
“Love it when you’re like this - all obedient for me.” Nikolai rubs his nose against Brandon’s left nipple. ‘You must be really feeling it, huh?”
All Brandon can do is hum through the hem of his shirt.
Nikolai keeps opening him up, working a third finger in and it feels incredible . Just when Brandon is certain he’s going to come from Nikolai fingering his ass, the fingers are gone. Nikolai pulls them out, leaving him empty - clenching around nothing.
Wiping the lube on the sheet, Nikolai rushes to unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. Kolya . Brandon still can’t believe he named his dick.
He squirts more lube onto Kolya - Jesus Christ, the name was catching on for Brandon - and looks up him. He’s got that cheeky look on his face; like he knows what he’s about to say will piss Brandon off.
“Have a seat, baby,” he says sweetly.
Brandon does his best to give him a death glare.
A little bit of anxiety licks at his stomach - he’s never ridden Nikolai before. He’s ridden a horse before, when he played polo, but that couldn’t be similar to this. What is he supposed to do? Sure, Nikolai’s dick is supposed to go inside him, but then what?
“Stop overthinking,” Nikolai knows him so well. His voice is surprisingly gentle. “I’ll help you out. Let me guide you down.”
Holding both his cock and Brandon’s hip, Nikolai slowly leads him to sit back. His dick nudges against his loose hole, sliding past the ring of muscle. It’s a tight fit even after Nikolai’s extensive prepping - but the stretch is so good. After actually cumming, Brandon thinks this is always the best part of fucking Nikolai. Nikolai likes to say Brandon was made for him, but this pressure - this delectable burn is a reminder that no, Brandon was in fact not made by whatever god above for Nikolai. The truth is, Nikolai has changed him. He was the one who irrevocably changed Brandon.
Nikolai thrusts up ever so slightly, feeding more of his cock into Brandon. At this angle, Brandon can feel even more of Nikolai - he’s certain Nikolai’s never been this deep in him before.
He moans through the hem of his shirt. Sweat begins to form along his brow, and Brandon throws his head back. Christ, had Nikolai somehow gotten bigger since the last time they fucked? His thighs shake as he lowers himself down some more, Nikolai watching the whole time. He looks hungry for Brandon, and that only ignites more flames under his skin.
With no warning, Nikolai slams his hips up, meeting Brandon’s ass so that he’s fully sheathed inside.
Brandon’s mouth falls open into a perfect O . The shirt falls from his lips. He can’t do much more than cling to Nikolai for dear life.
“Feel good, baby?”
He can barely reply.
“F-Fuck. S-So full.”
“Yeah?” Nikolai gyrates his hips in little circles grinding against Brandon. He’s rubbing right against his prostate, and it makes Brandon moan wantonly.
“God!” Brandon pushes his forehead into Nikolai’s neck, hiding away. A strange thought scares him; what if he looks down and sees Nikolai’s fat cock protruding against his abs? That’s how deep it felt.
“Where do you feel me, baby?” Nikolai pushes his hand against Brandon’s lower stomach. “Is it here?”
“N-Nnng, gah! Niko!”
“Yes or no?”
“Yes!”
“Look at me when you’re talking,” he orders, voice cold as he grabs Brandon by the nape and pulls. Their eyes meet, and Brandon is momentarily scared by the dark look in Nikolai’s eyes. It’s the same look of bloodlust he has when he’s in the ring, ready to beat down on someone.
Brandon swallows, somehow ever more aroused.
“It’s your turn. You wanted to put on a show? Here’s your chance, Lotus flower,” he growls. “Put that glorious ass to work and ride me.”
“I don’t know how,” Brandon admits quietly, and Nikolai laughs. He laughs . Fuck, he can be such an asshole when he wants to be.
“Here, baby, like this,” he takes Brandon’s waist once more, dragging him up on the length of his cock and lowering him just the same. The motion sends sparks straight to his aching cock and Brandon nearly screams out a moan.
“ Hnnng-ah!”
The brutal pleasure startles him.
Brandon’s hips move on their own accord, he grinds down chasing that brutality. The feeling is fucking incredible . It’s deeper than any other time Nikolai’s fucked him. Every time he raises himself up on his knees and Nikolai’s length, he rolls his hips forward and slams back down. It was only a little bit similar to riding a horse.
“Look at you, you’re a fucking natural, Lotus Flower.” With his hands empty, Nikolai’s free to continue his assault on Brandon’s nipples. He reaches under the shirt and rolls the nubs between his pointer and middle fingers.
“Ah! Please, more! More, Niko!” he grips Nikolai’s shoulders, nails biting in.
A voice at the back of Brandon’s head reminds him that he should be somewhat concerned about Nikolai’s pleasure, but he can barely focus on coordinating his hips to keep a rhythm.
It’s overwhelming, but somehow not enough.
His movements are not uniform enough for Brandon to nail his prostate every time - it frustrates him.
“Need a little help?” Nikolai brushes a hand along Brandon’s length. He grinds his palm against the head.
Brandon’s hips stutter.
“Yeah… please, Niko, I need it. I need you. ”
A breathless laugh.
“God, you know exactly what to say, baby.”
Nikolai wraps his arms around him, and moves both of them. With his cock still firmly in Brandon’s ass, he adjusts so that he’s kneeling on the bed with Brandon’s legs around him. Brandon fits perfectly there on Nikolai’s strong thighs. He claws at Nikolai’s back in an attempt to hold on.
Nikolai fucks up into Brandon at a violent pace, the sound of their skin slapping against each other drowns out the torrential rainfall. Brandon’s mouth hangs open, soft little uh, uh, uh’s, fucked out of him. On every thrust, Nikolai nails his prostate. That, combined with his cock rubbing against Nikolai’s ridiculously chiseled six-pack brings Brandon right to the edge.
“Doesn’t matter if anyone sees you fucking yourself on my cock, you know why?” Nikolai says into Brandon’s ear, voice wrecked. His thrusts are growing erratic. “Because you fucking belong to me. No one else gets to fuck this ass. Let them watch and wish it was them fucking you.”
“Fuck,” Brandon cries out, but it comes out breathless and more like a moan. He’s nearly there, trying to push down and meet Nikolai’s thrusts. Sweat drips down his arching back.
“Who do you belong to, Lotus Flower?”
A bit of drool trickles from his lips - Nikolai licks it up.
“ Who do you belong to?”
Brandon’s voice crackles when he replies.
“You! I belong to you!”
Finally, Nikolai smiles at Brandon.
“You’re perfect, baby. So fucking perfect.”
Brandon comes when Nikolai kisses his temple.
Concurrently, Nikolai comes a second later, thrusting through the aftershocks, fucking his cum deep into Brandon.
The collapse to the side, sweaty limbs tangled and intertwined. Brandon takes in heaving breaths with his nose against Nikolai’s neck. Bergamot, spice, and mint. The real thing was so much better than an pair of underwear.
“You fuck like you’re trying to murder me,” he manages to say.
Nikolai laughs.
“I’m passionate, baby. You're the one that brings it out.”
“I can’t tell if that’s good for me.”
“It’s good for your cock and ass.” Nikolai’s hand sneaks behind Brandon and slaps him hard across the cheek. Brandon yelps.
“You’re a beast, you know that?”
“Yup. Your beast.”
Brandon shakes his head, but nuzzles closer to him.
They need to talk - they have so much shit to work out. But as Brandon listens to the rain patter against the window, he decides they can push it off for a few hours. Nikolai is oddly quiet, then;
“So… you like being watched, huh?”
Brandon groans and tries to roll away, but Nikolai holds him to his chest, laughing.
“God, can you shut the fuck up? For once?” he barks, but Nikolai ignores him.
“I can’t believe it. Prim and proper Brandon King, gets off on sniffing my panties and voyeurism. You’re the gift that keeps on giving, baby.” Nikolai slides his hand down Brandon’s back and rests on his ass. “Next time, I’ll fuck you against the window, yeah?”
Brandon blushes bright red, but doesn’t say no.