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Title: The Warmth of You, The Heat
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Just another morning on board the Riptide. Nothing to see here, move along.
Nick lay back in his bunk and grinned up at the ceiling. He had good reason to be happy. Cody lay sprawled on top of and around him. They were both naked.
Nick had known Cody for a dozen years, and for at least half that many had been in love with his lanky, unforgettable best friend. Being in Nam had complicated some of those years, as had serving as MPs; the military had that kind of effect. But now it was just the two of them and this crazy detective business Cody had dreamed up to get out of having to find a job that didn't involve surfing.
And Nick had long resigned himself to following wherever Cody led. If nothing else, it kept things interesting.
To reassure himself of the fact, Nick let his hands drift down from Cody's back until he held an asscheek in each hand, and squeezed.
"Ow," Cody said mildly. He raised up off Nick's chest. His hair stuck up at angles, raked by sweat and heat and Nick's hands when they'd fucked the morning away. Cody blinked muzzily and looked around the stateroom as if seeing it for the first time, which, given the way they'd spent the morning, was probably accurate.
The air in the stateroom was close and overly warm, but Nick figured it wasn't a patch on the jungle heat of Nam, and besides, he was more focused on the fact that they were alone behind a double-locked door. He squeezed harder.
Cody wriggled out of Nick's grasp, snickering, while Nick simply lay there and enjoyed the wriggle. You could know a guy for a dozen years and still not realize he could move his spine like that until you actually had the chance to experience it.
"Morning," Nick murmured, when Cody settled. He leaned up and stole a kiss. "You want me to call room service?"
"Mm," Cody kissed him back. "I could eat a horse right now."
"That's a shame, Cody, because we're fresh out of horse. Got something else you can eat, though?"
It was Cody's turn to grin. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah." More kissing and widened grins. Heat, musk and skin. Nick's cock lay full, the tip nudging Cody's flat, sweat-slick belly. He moved Cody's hips against him, his cock slipping pleasurably in the lee of Cody's hip-bones.
Cody's own reciprocated, and Nick felt it leak against his inner thigh, pre-cum smearing across his leg as they found a rhythm together.
Cody bore down on him, quick clever tongue finding the tight and secret place between Nick’s neck and shoulder, the place that made him scream and cry and run. Nick froze; a succession of images flashed in front of his eyes. Cody, clean-shaven, tall and awkward with too-old eyes in the camp at Da Nang; Cody whimpering and terrified, clinging bleeding to Nick in a steaming, dirty foxhole, dirt exploding around them; fearless Cody charging into a bar fight, daring the world with an MP band on his arm, then sailing through a plate-glass window; Cody closing up the surf shop on La Cienega with Nick leaning impatiently on the glass counter, their boards waiting up against the wall; Cody in his button-front shirts with the rolled-up sleeves, the boy detective Nick would protect with his dying breath--
Nick stared up at the ceiling of the stateroom, laid open at the wrong time.
Cody pulled back and propped himself up on his arms, panting, staring down at Nick. His eyes asked a question.
“You,” Nick answered softly.
Cody grinned in answer. He bent and kissed Nick, deep and thorough. His mustache tickled Nick’s lip.
Nick tangled a hand in Cody’s sweat-stiff hair and kissed him back, hard, feeling Cody melt against him the deeper he probed.
And with that, Nick let go. It had been so long, and he’d dreamed of this moment so many nights. Now that it was here, he was terrified. It was so much better than his dreams. Nick arched under Cody’s gentle weight. In all his dreams he never could’ve imagined the heat of the real thing.
Cody pulled back again, rearing up, grinning. He looked distinctly pleased with himself.
Nick flopped back against the bunk, surrendering.
Cody bore down, ineffably cheerful. This was the Cody Nick loved best, the Cody who stayed hidden from the world, only accessible to him. Nick couldn’t imagine any better gift than seeing this Cody, his Cody. He pulled his beautiful other half back down to him, all limbs and elbows -- God, how many -- and aligned them hard against each other.
For a moment the two of them stared into each other’s eyes. Cody breathed out, and Nick breathed in.
He’d spent a dozen years loving one Cody or another. This new Cody he prayed he had another dozen years for. They owed each other that much at least.
Then Nick lay back on the bunk and succumbed, succumbed to what he’d felt all this time, the thing he’d known to be true from that very first day staring through the thick mosquito netting in Da Nang. The thing he’d never had a name for, but had left with Cody for safe-keeping, because it was easier than carrying it around in his chest.
Nick reached up, just as Cody bore him down against the bunk, in the heat and the close.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Just another morning on board the Riptide. Nothing to see here, move along.
Nick lay back in his bunk and grinned up at the ceiling. He had good reason to be happy. Cody lay sprawled on top of and around him. They were both naked.
Nick had known Cody for a dozen years, and for at least half that many had been in love with his lanky, unforgettable best friend. Being in Nam had complicated some of those years, as had serving as MPs; the military had that kind of effect. But now it was just the two of them and this crazy detective business Cody had dreamed up to get out of having to find a job that didn't involve surfing.
And Nick had long resigned himself to following wherever Cody led. If nothing else, it kept things interesting.
To reassure himself of the fact, Nick let his hands drift down from Cody's back until he held an asscheek in each hand, and squeezed.
"Ow," Cody said mildly. He raised up off Nick's chest. His hair stuck up at angles, raked by sweat and heat and Nick's hands when they'd fucked the morning away. Cody blinked muzzily and looked around the stateroom as if seeing it for the first time, which, given the way they'd spent the morning, was probably accurate.
The air in the stateroom was close and overly warm, but Nick figured it wasn't a patch on the jungle heat of Nam, and besides, he was more focused on the fact that they were alone behind a double-locked door. He squeezed harder.
Cody wriggled out of Nick's grasp, snickering, while Nick simply lay there and enjoyed the wriggle. You could know a guy for a dozen years and still not realize he could move his spine like that until you actually had the chance to experience it.
"Morning," Nick murmured, when Cody settled. He leaned up and stole a kiss. "You want me to call room service?"
"Mm," Cody kissed him back. "I could eat a horse right now."
"That's a shame, Cody, because we're fresh out of horse. Got something else you can eat, though?"
It was Cody's turn to grin. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah." More kissing and widened grins. Heat, musk and skin. Nick's cock lay full, the tip nudging Cody's flat, sweat-slick belly. He moved Cody's hips against him, his cock slipping pleasurably in the lee of Cody's hip-bones.
Cody's own reciprocated, and Nick felt it leak against his inner thigh, pre-cum smearing across his leg as they found a rhythm together.
Cody bore down on him, quick clever tongue finding the tight and secret place between Nick’s neck and shoulder, the place that made him scream and cry and run. Nick froze; a succession of images flashed in front of his eyes. Cody, clean-shaven, tall and awkward with too-old eyes in the camp at Da Nang; Cody whimpering and terrified, clinging bleeding to Nick in a steaming, dirty foxhole, dirt exploding around them; fearless Cody charging into a bar fight, daring the world with an MP band on his arm, then sailing through a plate-glass window; Cody closing up the surf shop on La Cienega with Nick leaning impatiently on the glass counter, their boards waiting up against the wall; Cody in his button-front shirts with the rolled-up sleeves, the boy detective Nick would protect with his dying breath--
Nick stared up at the ceiling of the stateroom, laid open at the wrong time.
Cody pulled back and propped himself up on his arms, panting, staring down at Nick. His eyes asked a question.
“You,” Nick answered softly.
Cody grinned in answer. He bent and kissed Nick, deep and thorough. His mustache tickled Nick’s lip.
Nick tangled a hand in Cody’s sweat-stiff hair and kissed him back, hard, feeling Cody melt against him the deeper he probed.
And with that, Nick let go. It had been so long, and he’d dreamed of this moment so many nights. Now that it was here, he was terrified. It was so much better than his dreams. Nick arched under Cody’s gentle weight. In all his dreams he never could’ve imagined the heat of the real thing.
Cody pulled back again, rearing up, grinning. He looked distinctly pleased with himself.
Nick flopped back against the bunk, surrendering.
Cody bore down, ineffably cheerful. This was the Cody Nick loved best, the Cody who stayed hidden from the world, only accessible to him. Nick couldn’t imagine any better gift than seeing this Cody, his Cody. He pulled his beautiful other half back down to him, all limbs and elbows -- God, how many -- and aligned them hard against each other.
For a moment the two of them stared into each other’s eyes. Cody breathed out, and Nick breathed in.
He’d spent a dozen years loving one Cody or another. This new Cody he prayed he had another dozen years for. They owed each other that much at least.
Then Nick lay back on the bunk and succumbed, succumbed to what he’d felt all this time, the thing he’d known to be true from that very first day staring through the thick mosquito netting in Da Nang. The thing he’d never had a name for, but had left with Cody for safe-keeping, because it was easier than carrying it around in his chest.
Nick reached up, just as Cody bore him down against the bunk, in the heat and the close.