Page 6 of Shock & Awe

Nick ran his teeth across his lip, beginning to nod. “Isn’t it always if you have the right dance partner?”

Kelly stared at him, finding himself nodding. Jesus, was it possible he was considering Nick O’Flaherty a dance partner right now? Yes. Yes, he was.

“You’re not going to ask me to fuck you now, are you?” Nick asked, deadpan.

Kelly began to laugh. “The thought was crossing my mind.”

Nick’s smile faded. “Are you serious?”

“Sort of. You got the engine revved a little.”

Nick rolled his eyes and turned toward the stairs. “Put him back in the garage then. I don’t drive automatics,” he said as he thumped down the stairs.

Nick woke with a jerk as a hand grabbed at his arm. He peered over in the moonlight. “You okay?”

“I need to move,” Kelly grunted.

They’d shared enough beds—and floors—over the years that Nick knew Kelly slept on his side. Being forced to sleep flat on his back made him restless and miserable, but he hadn’t recovered the strength in his torso yet to roll onto his side without help or something to grab onto and pull.

Nick fumbled for the pillows he’d stacked between them and tossed them to the foot of the bed, rolling onto his side and holding his arm out. “Come on.”

Kelly used Nick’s forearm to pull himself to his side, and as soon as he was settled, Nick took the spare pillows and wedged them behind Kelly’s back to rest against. He was hyperaware of how close he was, of his breaths hitting Kelly’s cheek as he reached across him. Goddammit, why had he even agreed to that kiss in the first place? Now the next day or so would be awkward as hell as he tried to forget how fucking good Kelly felt in his arms.

Once he was certain there was support behind Kelly, he took the pillow he’d been using and pushed it against Kelly’s chest to give him something to hold.

“I don’t need that,” Kelly mumbled. He shoved the pillow back toward the head of the bed.

Nick scowled. “You always hold something when you sleep.”

“I’m not taking your pillow. Quit it.”

Nick huffed and laid back down, facing Kelly. He watched him for several minutes, alert for signs of pain or misery, waiting for his breathing to even out. It didn’t though, and finally Kelly opened his eyes again.

“You hurting?” Nick asked him.

“A little. Not enough to take anything. I just can’t sleep.”

Nick remained silent, waiting for Kelly to go on. If he needed to get something off his chest, he would. And Nick had a feeling he knew exactly what Kelly needed to discuss.

“It was a good kiss,” Kelly finally said.

Nick huffed a laugh. “Yes, it was.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m a fabulous kisser and you’re easy.”

Kelly rolled his eyes.

Nick watched and waited, but finally he got tired of the weighty silence. “Are you asking me if it means you’re gay if you liked one kiss?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I don’t have any answers. I’m leaning toward no.”

Kelly sighed loudly. “I still want you to do it again. Does that matter?”

Nick’s chest fluttered. He had to fight for enough breath to answer. “You mean does it matter in the grand scheme of things?”