Nemesis: Loud Like Love - 7. Chapter Seven: Post Blue

CHAPTER SEVEN

Post Blue

Nick felt hot, and he felt electric, and he felt horny. He’d been dancing with Brian, grinding against him, making out, feeling so, so good. He’d had a few cocktails, and the pill he had taken had made him feel all fuzzy. The beat of the music pounded in his ears, creating intense colours in his mind. It was like he could taste it. He wanted to touch everyone.

And then Dave had been there, right there, his Dave. Kissing someone else, but that didn’t matter, because Nick had kissed Dave too. Felt his lips, his tongue, his heat. Then Brian had come and taken him away.

‘Noooo!’ he whined as Brian pulled him up some stairs. Nick was clinging to Brian’s arm. His soft, warm skin felt comforting. ‘He was there . . .’

‘He was,’ said Brian as they reached the top of the stairs, and steered Nick in the direction of a bar. It was quieter up here. Nick didn’t like the relative quiet, and tried to break free of Brian so he could go back downstairs and find Dave, at the same time as he wanted more of Brian’s skin to touch. Everything felt very confusing.

Brian sat him down on a barstool, and Nick decided to stay put, for now. A large glass of water was placed in his hand, and he drank it quickly, because now that he thought about it, he was really thirsty.

Brian sat on a stool next to him, and took the glass out of his hand when it was empty. ‘I’m sorry, babe. Didn’t know you’d react so strongly. Probably shouldn’t have mixed in the alcohol . . .’ He reached out and rubbed Nick’s shoulders, and Nick mewled and leaned into the touch, eyes slipping shut. ‘I should get you home,’ said Brian.

Nick shook his head. ‘No, we can stay like this. This is nice.’

Brian chuckled, and then his lips were on Nick’s, his arms around him, and his hands all over him.

‘Oi!’ said the bartender sharply. ‘No shagging at the bar, please.’

Brian reluctantly pulled away. ‘Need to get you home, Nick. I want more of you.’

Nick nodded meekly. ‘Okay. Let’s go home.’

Brian hailed them a cab when they got outside. They held each other the entire way to the flat, a trip that took all of five minutes but felt timeless. When they stumbled into Brian’s bedroom, they were all over each other in seconds. Nick trembled with need, impatient, begging Brian to just fuck him already, though Brian had enough presence of mind to prep him properly and put on a condom first.

It was slow and soft and hard and fast all at the same time. Nick lost himself in it, slipping in and out of consciousness, Brian’s skin against his sending shocks of electricity all through his body. When he came, it was so intense that he couldn’t make a sound, eyes wide, mouth open, gasping. They collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, and Nick fell asleep with Brian still inside him.

* * *

Nick woke up, feeling like something had crawled inside his mouth and died. He was sweaty and sticky and in dire need of a shower and a toothbrush. His head was pounding, and his stomach hurt. He didn’t feel like he needed to be sick, but he definitely needed a toilet. Brian had a leg and an arm draped over him, and Nick tried to untangle himself without waking him up, but with little luck, as Brian roused next to him and kissed his neck.

‘Morning, beautiful,’ he murmured.

‘Morning.’ Nick’s voice felt hoarse and he cleared his throat. ‘Hey, I really need the toilet. And a shower. And to brush my teeth.’

Brian groaned and pulled away from him a bit. ‘Me too, but you can go first. Wow, that was some pretty intense rolling last night.’

‘Yeah.’ Something had happened, Nick knew that, but his brain was fuzzy. He remembered having fun, though. He rolled out of bed, found his toothbrush and his pants (they were inside his jeans; they must have been in a hurry last night), and went to the bathroom.

Once he was in the shower, after a bad case of the shits and brushing his teeth for about five minutes to combat the dragon breath he’d woken up with, he started to remember the previous night. He’d taken MDMA with Brian. He’d had a few cocktails, and danced a lot, and had craved so much human contact. It had felt nice, like he was floating, and every sensation was enhanced.

He washed the cum from last night off his belly, and stood under the water spray for a good while, feeling the hot water pour down his back. His arse felt sore.

Then, it came to him. Dave, at the club. Snogging some guy. He hadn’t really caught a good look at him, but he’d been tall, nearly as tall as Dave. Time had stopped. And he had needed to get close to him, to kiss him, and had acted on it.

Suddenly he was trembling and hyperventilating, and then he was sobbing, dropping to his knees in the tub, unable to catch his breath.

‘Fuck . . . Fuck, shit, fuck!’ What had he done? He’d kissed Dave. Kissed him, while he was on a date with someone else. ‘Fuck!’

There came a knock on the bathroom door. ‘Nick? You okay?’ The door lacked a functioning lock, and when Nick didn’t manage to answer, Brian opened the door, to find him hugging himself and rocking back and forth in the bottom of the grimy tub. Brian stepped inside and closed the door, turning the shower off and grabbing a towel off a rack. He helped Nick out of the tub and wrapped the towel around him.

‘Hey, it’s okay. A bit of anxiety is normal the next day, especially if you’re not used to it.’

‘Brian . . .’ Nick sobbed. It was hard to get any words out at all. ‘Dave, he . . . I . . . didn’t I? Oh, fuck!’

Brian pulled him close and kissed his forehead. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry. Should have gotten to you sooner, but you literally just disappeared.’

‘Oh God!’ Nick gasped for air. His legs were shaking so badly, he was standing only by virtue of Brian holding him up, and he clutched at him, holding on for dear life.

‘Here, let’s get you back to bed, okay?’ Brian helped him back into the bedroom and into the bed, which still smelled of sweat and sex, but at least it was soft and he didn’t have to rely on his limbs. ‘Will you be okay while I clean myself up real quick?’ Brian asked, and Nick nodded, feeling exhausted.

He closed his eyes, heard the shower running, focused on the sound of it. All tools that his psychologist Evan had provided him with, to help with his anxiety. He had stopped seeing Evan last spring. Perhaps that had been premature.

When Brian returned, he had a large glass of water with him, and he made Nick drink all of it before he lay down next to him on the bed, stroking his hair. ‘There you go. Good boy, just relax.’

Nick shivered and closed his eyes. ‘How come you’re not like this?’ he mumbled.

‘Oh, I’m anxious as fuck on the inside.’ Brian placed a kiss on Nick’s cheek. His chin and upper lip were a bit stubbly. He hadn’t shaved yet today, it seemed. Nick himself could barely grow any facial hair at all. ‘But I’m more used to it than you are, and my body is, too. First time rolling can be pretty intense. I should have warned you about the hangover. I’m sorry.’

‘I can’t believe I kissed Dave. What was he even doing there? I feel like such a fucking idiot.’

‘Hey, you were high. We all do stupid things sometimes when we’re high.’ Brian paused, this time pressing a light kiss to Nick’s lips. ‘Did you have fun, though? Did it feel good?’

Nick considered for a moment. It had felt good. He’d quite like to feel that way again, though he couldn’t quite decide whether it was worth the hangover, or the clear lack of good judgment. ‘It felt amazing,’ he said at last. ‘I felt . . . free.’

Brian smiled. ‘That’s good. That’s the whole point.’

They stayed like that for a while. Brian kept stroking Nick’s hair gently, and soon Nick drifted off to sleep. When he woke up, he felt much better, though still a bit shaky and anxious. Brian was sitting at the edge of the bed with his Fender Precision bass (which Nick had geeked out over like crazy the first time he had come to visit). He was wearing jeans, but no shirt. Nick sat up and put his arms around his neck.

‘Hey.’ Brian put the bass down and turned his head to kiss him softly on the lips. ‘Feeling any better?’

Nick nodded. ‘What time is it?’

‘About four. Have to get to the venue by six for the sound check. Still feel up to coming to the gig?’

‘Yeah,’ said Nick automatically, because he really wanted to feel up to it.

‘Think you can eat something? Or would you like a spliff first, maybe?’

‘That might be helpful, yeah. Maybe I’ll be hungry after.’

Brian smiled at him and opened the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a sizeable bag of weed, a bowl, some tobacco, and rolling papers. He mixed weed and tobacco in the bowl and started rolling a spliff that he handed to Nick, getting a lighter out of his pocket. He lit it for him, and Nick took a long drag, leaning back on the bed and feeling the smoke fill his lungs, and felt almost instantly more relaxed.

‘I’ll go make you a sandwich or something,’ said Brian, getting up.

Nick smoked the joint on his own, feeling the calm fill him. Then, somewhere, his phone rang, and he fumbled around with his jeans until he found it in a pocket. It was Zoë. He answered it. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, little brother. How’s Birmingham?’

‘All right. Going to Brian’s concert tonight.’

‘You sound tired.’

‘Got a bit late last night. We stayed in,’ Nick lied. ‘Talked until like four in the morning. It was nice.’ It wasn’t like he could tell Zoë that he’d been to a night club, much less that he’d taken MDMA and kissed Dave while high. Still, lying to her wasn’t easy. ‘Hey, I haven’t got any shifts until Wednesday, might stay a couple of nights extra.’

He heard her sigh. ‘You sure that’s a good idea?’

‘Feels like a good idea.’

‘Well, I’m back to Nottingham tomorrow evening, so I suppose I’m not here anyway. I’ll let Richard know.’ She paused. ‘He’s worried about you. I’m worried about you, too. It’s been nearly three months. Don’t you think it’s time to—’

‘To what? Get over it? Zoë . . . I can’t. I’m trying. That’s what this is for. I need to be away from Windfield Green occasionally if I’m going to manage that. Brian is taking care of me, I promise.’

Just then, Brian entered the room with a sandwich. ‘That your sister?’ he asked. ‘Let me talk to her.’

Nick hesitated. It wasn’t actually a bad idea. Brian was a good sweet talker. Perhaps he could convince her. Nick pressed the mute button for a minute and said, ‘If she asks we stayed in last night, talking until four A.M., okay?’ Then he unmuted the phone. ‘Would you like to talk to Brian?’

‘Okay,’ said Zoë, and he handed Brian his phone.

‘Hey,’ said Brian. ‘Yeah, not bad, you? Yeah, we stayed in last night. My band is playing tonight. Yup. Of course not. I’m looking after him, I promise. Wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Mhm. Listen, Zoë, we both love Nick and want what’s best for him, okay? I know. Would you like him back? Okay, you take care, now.’ He handed the phone back to Nick.

‘Hey,’ he said.

‘Hey again. Okay, he seems all right, I guess. But you go home on Tuesday at the latest, okay?’

‘I promise.’

* * *

Dave felt like shit on Saturday. Not because he was hungover (although he was a bit), but because of what had happened. Patrick had been right, Nick had seemed high as a kite. Alcohol didn’t do that to him, and he knew Brian had given him cocaine that time back in March. He suddenly felt absolutely furious with the guy. Not because he was shagging Nick, but because he was getting him wasted and high. That sounded like someone who didn’t give a shit. Matt had said so, he’d said that Brian wasn’t the sort to think about the consequences. He should tell Matt about what had happened. Maybe he could do . . . something.

He wrote a text. Hey. Could you give me a ring when you’ve got a minute?

It didn’t take more than half an hour before Matt rang him. ‘Hey, you okay?’

‘Yeah. No, not really. Patrick and I went to that club you told us about, last night. I . . . I ran into Nick. And I guess the guy with him must have been Brian.’

‘Aww, that sucks, mate. You all right?’

‘I guess. Just . . . Look, I think Nick was high. Like, high as fucking balls. He . . . He came up to me, and he started kissing me. Nick would never do that. Even if he was drunk, I can’t imagine that he’d . . . I dunno.’

‘Fuck . . . I know that Brian’s into some stuff. It’s not like he shoots up heroin or smokes crack or anything, it’s weed and party drugs. But I fucking thought Nick was smarter than that.’

‘Yeah, well, he’s pretty fucked up at the minute, I guess.’ Dave sighed heavily.

‘I’ll talk to him. We’re rehearsing on Tuesday, I’ll have a chat with him then. Probably not much point in doing it now, think it needs to be face to face, but I’ll do my best, okay?’

‘Yeah. Cheers.’ Dave paused. ‘It was bad, Matt. Brian had to drag him away. I’ve never seen him like that, ever. He called me his boyfriend, it was almost like he was delusional.’ He felt tears pressing at the back of his eyes. ‘I’m really fucking worried.’

‘Hey, it’s okay. I’ll do what I can, I promise.’

‘Okay. Thank you. Just . . . Thanks.’

They hung up, and Dave stared at his phone. He wanted to ring Patrick, but at the moment it felt like if he did, it was because of Nick, and he didn’t want to lay that on Patrick’s shoulders any more than he already had.

He really, really liked Patrick. He wanted it to work out, wanted to be with him. And that wasn’t because of Nick, it was something he genuinely wanted. Needed. Last night had made him want him even more, because of how kind and understanding and just frankly wonderful he had been. He’d never met anyone like him before. Anyone else would have broken it off right there and then, thinking it wasn’t worth it. If there was one thing they had both realised last night, it was that Dave really wasn’t over Nick, and in spite of that, Patrick still wanted to be with him.

A couple of hours later, however, he got a text from Patrick.

Hey. Need to get off campus for a bit. Wanna go to that café you were talking about, in Windfield Green?

Dave smiled. Sure. Let me know when you’re on your way. x