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There is no "i" in "team" (but there is one in "vibrator")

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“I- can’t,” Nicky says, face flushed, with his hair sticking to his forehead and his mouth bitten red. He sounds almost incredulous, like he’s having some realization he’s not too sure about yet. “Joe, I- hnnn, fuck. I think I can’t.”

Joe’s kneeling by his head, looking at him upside down, how he’s twisting in the sheets. He is easily the single most beautiful creature Joe has ever seen. 

“You think you can’t?” Joe says, low and amused, which earns him an annoyed little noise, Nicky blinking up at him like he’s feeling betrayed by Joe pointing this out. 

“I don’t know,” he says, petulant. “I’m-”

“Well, we’re going to find out,” Joe says, somehow managing to sound calm, which… is the furthest thing from the truth right now. Cups the side of Nicky’s face, because he just can’t help himself, thumb tracing the shell of Nicky’s ear. 

Out of the corner of his eye, there’s movement – Nicky, trying to sneak his hand down, maybe to try and touch himself, and Joe floods with a rush of adrenaline that is fucking ridiculous, because there are no stakes here, there’s nothing to lose and nothing to prove. Still, his reflexes are kicking in like this is something that actually matters, snatching at Nicky’s wrist before it can go anywhere, gently pulling his hand back up again. 

Nicky looks up at him with pleading eyes when Joe holds his wrist down, pins it over his head. 

“Now, I had to promise you, Nicolo,” Joe says solemnly, trying not to grin, helplessly endeared at Nicky’s offended little huff. “Remember? You made me swear on my honor, right here-”

“Don’t remember that,” Nicky pants, impatient, which is blatantly untrue and they both know it. “No idea what you’re talking about- fuck-”

“Other hand, please,” Joe says. Trying and probably failing to sound businesslike, because his mouth has gone dry. “Come on, Nico, here we go-”

“That’s, that is really not necessary,” Nicky says. “I won’t- Joe, I swear-”

“Yes, well, and who knows if you’ll remember that in a minute,” Joe says good-naturedly, grinning when Nicky huffs again, like he’s put out. Then he obediently stretches his other arm out over his head for Joe to take, with an air like he’s the one doing Joe a favor, here. Joe takes it and, on a whim, pulls it up to kiss his knuckles, then his palm, before he pins it down above Nicky’s head as well.

Nicky makes a soft noise at the finality of it all, flexing and then relaxing his arms, sinking back into the mattress with a sigh, defeated, which lasts for about three seconds before he goes tense again, rolling his hips into nothing. Joe can hear the vibrations from here, low and steady. Can see the tendons in Nicky’s leg stand out, when draws one of them up again, puts one foot against the mattress. Feels like he might be on fire, like this isn’t just Nicky going through it at all but Joe as well, arousal drowning out the rest of the world at the mere sight of him.

“Joe…” he murmurs and tips his head back again, chewing on his lower lip, pleading look on his face. 

It’s been over forty minutes at this point. Nicky’s been hard for thirty-nine of them. He keeps shifting around, bucking his hips and then aborting the movement halfway through, tiny little twitches into thin air, like he’s looking for some kind of stimulation, some kind of friction, anything at all. His legs keep sliding on the bedding, one of them tipping to the side before he closes them again, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  

He’s wearing a pair of Joe’s boxer briefs, because, well… they had to make sure the toy was staying put somehow, didn’t they. The briefs are light gray, except for one dark spot where he’s been leaking through the fabric. Joe can’t even look at the damp patch for too long, because the urge to just put his mouth there- the urge to just lick right over the obvious outline of Nicky’s erection, suck at him through the fabric until everything is drenched, is almost overwhelming. 

They’d bought some… things, a few months ago, because the mood was right and Nicky was having ideas again, and had discovered that there were companies that actually delivered sex toys now, right to one’s doorstep.

The only disagreement they’d had, hilariously, was over the damn color, of all things. Nicky, initially, had opted for the most outlandish ones – solely to see the look on Joe’s face, Joe suspected, which, predictably, had been one of disbelief and barely concealed disgust. He’d argued for black, because, well. That seemed like the least ridiculous choice, except for whatever fucking reason a black toy didn’t exist, apparently, and then Nicky’d had the nerve to call him unadventurous, sly grin on his face, like he was extending a challenge. 

They’d settled on blue after that. 

The first time they’d actually used the thing – sleek, unassuming dildo, which seemed to be one of tamest choices available anyway, judging by what Joe had seen – had been a big success. No surprise there, honestly. There were quite a few settings, different types of vibrations, and one of them, a slow, pulsing rhythm, seemed to do the trick extraordinarily well.

“Seemed to me you enjoyed that last one very much,” Joe’d muttered afterwards, when they were sprawled out next to each other, his head resting in the crook of Nicky’s arm.

“I did…” Nicky’d murmured – sleepily, slowly, like he only just realized that now – and then he murmured, “very much so” and then he said, sounding a lot more awake all of a sudden, “...huh.”

“What,” Joe had prompted, amused. 

“Nothing,” Nicky’d said, but he was looking pensive now, turning his head to press his mouth against Joe’s temple. “I wonder… Do you think I could come like this?” 

“Just from that?” 

“Yes.” 

“Hm,” Joe had said. It wasn’t his question to answer, obviously, but he had his doubts.

The thing is, Nicky never quite manages it. Always seems to get very close, and then appears to get stuck there, incapable of actually finding any release without actual stimulation to his dick. And while it has happened before, once or twice over the course of a millennia, when the mood was exactly right and some minor miracle occurred, he can’t come untouched, generally speaking. Not that it matters in the slightest. Joe couldn’t give less of a shit about that if he actually tried. It’s an honor and a privilege, being allowed to see and hear and touch him like that, sweeter than honey and more blinding than the most spectacular sunrise. 

So far, Nicky hasn’t started begging. Probably because he knows it won’t make a difference just yet. 

“Do not let me,” he’d said beforehand, eyes already pupil-dark and breath coming  a bit quicker, but with the same no-nonsense tone he usually reserved for serious occasions. God, how Joe loved him. “Even if I ask you really nicely, yes?”

“No?” Joe had said, pretending to need further instruction. “What if you say please?”

“Especially not then,” Nicky said, sly twist to his mouth, looking at Joe from under his lashes, grinning like he wasn’t just engineering his own predicament. “If I have it in me to be unfair like this…” which was undoubtedly true, because they both knew that confronted with Nicky earnestly saying please, Joe was bound to melt like snow in the summer. “Then that shouldn’t be rewarded.”

So, here they are. 

Nicky’s flushed down to his chest now – color high on his cheeks, red splotches on his neck. Keeps staring up at Joe with big eyes, mouth hanging open, panting helplessly. Joe wants nothing more than to kiss him, but the angle is awkward, so he leans down and kisses his forehead instead. Nicky makes a low noise in the back of his throat. 

"I, I’m-" he says, "Joe-" and now there’s a certain undertone to his voice that makes Joe run hotter than anything, not quite a whine, but almost. He can’t even help it, it strikes some chord within him, resonates with some animal instinct that makes him clutch at Nicky’s wrists as hard as he possibly can, just to ground himself, because that fucking whine makes him want to rip those stupid underwear off of him with his teeth. 

God, it’s been an eternity. 

“Are you close?” he asks, which is an unnecessary question, all things considered, because the answer is clearly yes and has been for a while, but… still. 

“Yes,” Nicky manages, licking his lower lip like he can practically taste it. “Mh-hmm, yes, I’m- but I don’t, I don’t know-”

“How close?”

Nicky makes a sound that might’ve been a laugh under less desperate circumstances. 

“Close.”

“We’ve got time,” Joe says, and Nicky groans and says “yeah?” like he’s not sure if he wants that to be a promise or a threat. 

“All the time in the world,” Joe says. “Literally.”

“Oh, God-” Nicky groans, like that just occurred to him. Joe allows himself a moment to consider it – Nicky, like this, for all eternity; dazed and squirming and desperate, so hard he’s practically dripping with it, staring up at Joe with pleading eyes, whining his way through yet another attempt at convincing Joe to just let him touch, and loving every second of it-

He’s bucking in time with the vibrations now, Joe realizes, tense little movements, hips rising and falling steadily. Oh, this did the trick? Joe thinks, with a familiar mix of arousal and fondness. He should’ve realized.

“So, you see,” he says, voice like gravel. “You’re bound to come at some point. Doesn’t have to be today-”

“Oh, come on,” Nicky bites out, frantic, like Joe might be actually serious about this. “ Yusuf, you- ffff, I can’t-”

“Don’t worry,” Joe says, and yes, this is absolutely working, he’d recognize the movements with his eyes closed, just by touch alone, would know those noises anywhere, would revel in the way Nicky’s breathing has gone harsh and furious at any single point in time. “Maybe not yet. That’s alright, we’re not in a hurry-”

“Fuck-” Nicky grits out, and his chest is rising and falling now, like he’s actually having trouble breathing, “Oh, fuck, hnn- you, it’s not, this isn’t- I’m never-”

“Yes, you are,” Joe interrupts, dropping the act, because it’s true, and it’s obvious, and he can’t help himself anymore, “Look at you, Nico, you’re already there, look how much you want it-”

“I can’t-” Nicky hisses, except it’s not true at all, because then he’s arching off the mattress, finally, and very clearly starts to come -- with head thrown back, baring his throat, baring everything, eyes squeezed shut and moaning shamelessly. It feels like victory, like joy, like giving a gift, like witnessing something rare and precious. Joe stares and stares at him, doesn’t even blink, vaguely aware he’s rock hard inside his own underwear and not even caring all that much, because Nicky… well. He is a sight to behold.

Rides it out so beautifully too, undulating like all the pleasure is rolling over him in waves and he has no say in any of it at all. The briefs are fucking ruined by now, damp with his release, and he’s still not done, Joe can see him twitching inside the fabric. It makes his mouth water, pleasure unspooling hot in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck,” Nicky pants, face gone red-hot with orgasm, hair sticking to his forehead, and he’s blinking up at Joe now, like he’s looking for guidance, for confirmation, for any connection at all. Joe stares back at him helplessly, lets it all show on his face -- the wonder, the gratitude, the pleasure as well, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do? Nicky needs to know. Nicky needs to be aware of all of it. 

He’s still moving, because the toy is still going of course, so he’s still riding it out, whimpering “oh, what- fuck-” when Joe tightens his hold experimentally, just a bit, just as a reminder, and seems to shudder through a new wave all over again, groaning helplessly. 

“Oh God,” he pants eventually. “I- enough. Enough, I, I can’t-” and Joe is already letting go, moving down the bed to help him peel his underwear off and get rid of the toy. He’s a mess, everything sticky with lube and come, so oversensitized he’s actually trembling when Joe pulls the dildo out of him. 

Curls into him immediately, once Joe stretches out next to him on the bed, drapes himself across Joe’s chest, seeming shaky and enormously satisfied at the same time. 

“Very impressive,” Joe mutters, right into his hair. Pulls him in at the same time as he’s burrowing down, as close as he’ll go. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Nicky says solemnly, making Joe snort. 

They lie there for a few moments in companionable silence. Joe is still hard, helplessly turned on and in love, because what else is new, but there’s no urgency to any of it. It’s a done deal anyway, if he gets off now or in an hour or tomorrow… what’s the difference, really. As long as Nicky is going to be a part of it, it’s going to be perfect anyway.

“You know what I’m wondering,” Nicky murmurs. He’s drawing lazy circles over Joe’s chest with two fingers.

“What,” Joe prompts, amused.

“D’you think you could?”

“Could… what?” Joe says, even though it’s perfectly obvious what he means. Nicky seems to think so too, because he raises his head then, grinning down at him, familiar gleam to his eye.

“No, seriously,” Joe says innocently, pretending and probably failing to seem oblivious. “Could I... what? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” even though his heartbeat is already speeding up at the idea of it, arousal humming through his veins. 

Nicky kisses him then, playful but insistent, making a satisfied noise when Joe pushes a hand in his hair and kisses him back. Now here’s an idea, he thinks. Might be fun to try it the other way around as well. After all… that would only be fair, wouldn’t it?