Simon watches them from the doorway, a beer going warm in his hand. Johnny's got his head tipped back laughing at something Nikolai said, and the sound of it fills Simon's ribs, that hollow place only Johnny seems to fit. Even now across the room.
Nikolai's good at this. Leaning in just enough, voice dropped low and easy, that easy kind of charm. Simon's watched him work a room of strangers the same way he's working Johnny now. Likke flirting's just another language he happens to speak fluently, and Johnny's always been quick to pick up a new tongue.
Simon's never had that. Whatever it is people do with their mouths and voices to make someone feel wanted in the span of a sentence. He's got gallows humor and a flat stare and hands too scarred up for anything gentle, and somehow that's supposed to be enough to hold someone like Johnny, who laughs that easy when he wants. And the want is there, directed at Nikolai. He shouldn't be surprised.
He doesn't see Nikolai's eyes flick toward him. Doesn't see the small, knowing curve of his mouth, before he caresses the back of Johnny's head and leans in and says something low against Johnny's ear that makes Johnny's grin soften.
Johnny crosses the room at a stroll. He stops in front of Simon, nearly chest to chest and Simon instinctively tilts himself forward to put himself closer.
Johnny says, "Nik wants us both for dinner with him and the Captain. He says I've been hoarding you."
Simon's gaze flicks past him to Nikolai, who lifts his glass half an inch, not even pretending otherwise.
"And before you ask," Johnny adds, glancing up through his lashes, "Was the Captain's idea."
Sure, he enjoys subjecting Johnny to it. Watching the man writhe and groan until his eyes are teary and he's been tormented for so long that he's no longer hard.
But truly, he likes being on the receiving end. Specifically with bound wrists and ankles. He likes the uncertainty in Johnny's voice as he watches, the fingers hovering in the air, torn between reaching out to help and flicking the head of Simon's cock.
He enjoys desperately trying to get any sort of leverage with his knees to grind against the mattress, having his nipples pinched and bitten as he squirms. Getting flipped over whenever the other man pleases and being unable to do a thing about it. Howling like a cat in heat when Johnny gets between his legs and starts mouthing at his balls.
What he doesn't tell Johnny is that Nikolai is the reason he likes it so much.
Since you love nikghost. It got me thinking about a dynamic that keeps popping into my head.
Something like private (or not) pilot Nik and mechanic Ghost who works on the plane/helicopter.
idk how it would work but I just think it's a cool concept.
You can burn me at the stake if this is bad. I'm just trying to like share ideas.
didn’t know what to write for this, so i drew them instead
(+ a bonus poorly done comic)
i think in this au nikolai would have knowledge through experience / has his own makeshift fixes, but simon is thorough in all the inner mechanisms of the plane and can actually repair the damn thing.
the only reason nik even considers going to simon’s hangar is because the makeshift repairs of the other mechanics he goes to have come to a head and his plane is past being absolutely fucked.
(and he’s grown fond of such an intelligent man. loves how detail oriented and blunt he is. goes out of his way just to see the man scold him for his beat up aircrafts.)
The water is hot. Simon's mind comes back with a fog around it, slow to process everything as he's lulled slowly into vulnerability. Calloused hands rub against his body, fingers pushing against the aching joints and sore muscles. The hands are thick, tobacco clinging to the sun-spotted skin like cling-wrap.
His name slips off Simon's tongue with honey dripping from the corners of his mouth, manchester accent making the "k" come out slurred. The widows peak is what Simon's eyes are able to focus on first, how the hairline juts out with the thick, black stands. He's able to drag his eyes down, warm brown eyes and a nose that's been crooked back into place after too many breaks, chapped lips that are stained with blood from chewing on the loose skin.
"Nik..."
The man hums, somewhere between amusement and questioning, tilting Simon's head back to wash the suds from his matted hair. Simon says nothing, eyes fluttering closed as warm water cascades down his back, over the plastic that's wrapped tightly around his ribs and his left arm and both legs. It's to protect the bandages that he's covered in, but that doesn't mean Simon is anymore comfortable wearing it.
"M'fine."
Lies. The words sting his throat as they come out, barbed and trying to catch on his tongue, but Simon spits it out anyways with a cough. Blood speckles his hand, and distantly, he recalls biting his tongue somewhere between the entry hall and the bath. Nikolai makes an agreeing noise, like Simon is a child saying that he's going to run away. Disbelieving and yet letting Simon keep his pride.
The words don't stop Nikolai from pulling the drain on the tub, wrapping a towel around Simon's head to soak up the water from his hair, and then another around his shivering body. Between one blink and the next, carried in arms that feel like safety, there's warm and fluffy blankets beneath him– well, beneath Nik's lap that he's sitting on– and Simon melts into the warmth. Nikolai takes a brush to Simon's hair, using a needle ended handle to start untangling the mats that have formed after so many weeks spent in his own filth.
"Sleep. I will wake you to eat."
The blunt words aren't unkind, too soft for Simon to flinch from them, and too filled with care for him to argue. He had hardly noticed that his eyes keep drifting shut, seconds and minutes passing between each blink. A wet spot is forming on Nikolai's shirt, but neither of them mention the source as Simon sniffles and lets out a squeaked hiccup. Simon just turns his head into the familiar expanse of Nikolai's chest, letting his eyes close now that he's finally home.
ghostnik x f!reader | 1.3k words
cw: abduction, rape/noncon, anal fingering, double penetration, violence, blood, degradation
a/n: the hints of a plot. like secondhand plot from sitting too close to a plot.
banner by @/cafekitsune | kinktober list
By the time the man helps your trembling, near-liquefied self onto his cock, you’ve come several times.
Hard to keep track with the journey you’ve been on.
The last thing you remember is asking for a light outside the pub. From there, time fractures: hitting your head on a car door, a warm body at your back, a hand down your pants, the toes of your feet dragging over asphalt, and—here. The hum of a generator somewhere out of sight, surrounded by dark, empty stable stalls.
Your slick thighs quake as you sink onto his length, hands sliding over his sweaty chest, scrabbling for purchase in the pale, wispy hairs. His mitts for hands hold steady, pulling you down slowly but not gently, stuffing himself into your sodden cunt. Behind the gag, you whine and beg. His cock doesn’t seem to end, its thickness punishing. His scarred mouth remains a grim line, the rest of his face hidden by a painted balaclava, only his chin and lips uncovered, but you hear him panting like a dog through his nostrils through the fabric.
“Are you making love or fucking the girl?” A voice interjects. “She’s not going to break easily, are you?”
The older man slaps his palm across your ass, kneading it roughly with a chuckle as the man beneath you grunts. His eyes don’t leave yours, letting you witness the irritation brewing within them. He doesn’t make a sound when you rip his chest hairs after he yanks you the rest of the way down. To your humiliation, there’s barely any resistance.
“That’s more like it, Ghost. See? Working well together already.” The gag’s ripped from your head, and the hand on your ass is joined by its twin as the older man kneels behind you. “Lean forward, princess. And don’t hide those noises, okay?”
Anticipating your resistance, Ghost’s hands slide up to your mid-back, gradually tilting you until your breasts mash and flatten your hands. You whimper, wondering if you’ll find a shred of mercy. The word ‘please’ stuck to your teeth.
“Fuck, look at that,” A finger traces where your cunt stretches around Ghost, causing you to shudder. “You know, you weren’t my first choice, but Ghost and I made a bet, and I lost. Can you believe it?” The finger glides through your slick, and you hear Ghost’s breath cease until the digit withdraws. “I know we’ve just met, princess, but I never lose.”
“Bloody…do you ever stop talkin’?” Ghost rasps, voice like rough gravel.
“When I sleep.”
Ghost adjusts your weight, making you squeak. “Fuck sake, Nikolai…”
A blunt, wet forefinger presses at the furl of your ass, and you jolt. Three hands instantly seize you, keeping you in place as the finger returns.
“Hold her steady.”
You feel Ghost’s chest vibrate with a growl, but the invasion of the single finger makes you go rigid. It wriggles to the second knuckle, pumping in experimental thrusts. It burns from the meager, borrowed lubrication, but your comfort is a blatant postscript, unimportant to what they want. And the realization of what they want arrives with suffocating clarity as a second finger shoves its way in next to the first.
After a third, you press your cheek to Ghost’s pec and sob brokenly, unable to keep your pathetic noises in any longer. Every time the other man—Nikolai, you commit to memory—spits on your hole and pushes it in, your blubbering starts anew with hysterics.
“Fuck, is she holding you tight? She must be.” The fingers flex and spread, withdrawing to pat the tender ring.
Ghost doesn’t speak, but his eyes flick above you. One of his hands moves to grasp the nape of your neck and hold your face flat. You understand why when the fingers disappear, Nikolai moves up the mattress, and the leaking head of his cock slaps your asshole. It’s fruitless to try and come to terms with inevitability. You could spend a hundred days languishing, prostrate at an altar, and it wouldn’t be enough.
Nikolai presses teasingly once, then pushes and pushes until his cockhead slips past the tight ring of muscle. The men groan in unison as he presses in, fighting for space, carving out passage a thin wall away from Ghost.
With your breath punched out, your mouth hangs open in horror, throat creaky with aching hitches of breath. Nikolai rocks shallowly, feeding the rest of himself in and expelling coherency from your head, rendering everything but pure sensation incomprehensible. Body and mind stretched beyond belief.
You’re distantly aware of being talked over, words lost in a haze of drool, tears, and—iron. You blink, surfacing with a start, and find your teeth dug into the skin above Ghost’s beating heart. Unclenching your jaw with a gasp, you stare at the bloodied wound for all of a second before Nikolai pulls back for a mean thrust.
“The princess bites!” He sounds delighted, death from above.
Your spit mixes with blood, mirroring the slurry your brain’s been reduced to by the dual assault. You swallow, eyes rolling their sockets to meet Ghost’s gaze, finding his pupils wide enough to drown in. He doesn’t say a word, expression seemingly flat behind the mask. His lip stiffens, bearing Nikolai’s impatient rhythm alongside you until kick-starting his own.
The men could not be more out of sync. With what lucidity remains, you slowly conclude it’s not merely due to their single-minded mission, to use you like a warm thing with holes, a living receptacle, but because they hate each other. More than they apparently hate you. You also realize it’s largely one-sided. Ghost can’t stand the man he’s fucking you with, glaring past your head, fingers gripping you tighter and tighter.
It doesn’t help that Nikolai eggs him on.
“This how you normally fuck a whore, Ghost? Waste of a big dick.”
“Yeah, yeah, c’mon. She can take it. Fuck her how she likes.”
“You picked her and this is how you treat her? You sure you wanted her so bad?”
“Princess, bite him again. He likes it. We need to keep him in a good mood, yes?”
There’s no heat, no punch to his comments. Barbs delivered with amusement and what sounds like a smirk. The hand on the back of your neck’s never strayed since it settled there, and it squeezes every time Nikolai speaks.
It’ll be sore tomorrow, much like the rest of you.
The men pummel you, fucking into you like animals. Starving creatures fighting over a carcass.
Eventually, unable to defend itself with disgust and pain, your body surrenders some, leaking a wetness that poisons the dregs of your dignity. It doesn’t escape either man—how could it, with how tight you go—and they accelerate, hurtling you full-force to the edge. Someone’s hand wedges between you and Ghost, clumsily finding your clit in time to rub a few harsh circles, giving you the shove you don’t want.
You come with a shriek and cut off another as the hand taps your clit well into overstimulation. If you thought Nikolai’s intrusion made you stupid before, the rapid succession of their orgasms turns what’s left into mush. More putty for them to play with.
The men saw in and out of you, pumping their spend with erratic, jerking thrusts. There’s a squelch over your shoulder as Nikolai pulls all the way out, only to push languidly back in. Ghost doesn’t fight it when his softening cock slips from your heat and pets your nape with his bleeding chest heaving beneath you. It’s horribly soothing. Cruel.
Finally, Nikolai withdraws, and Ghost rolls you off onto the mattress.
The men dress while their cum cools. Every inch of you twitches.
“She looks good like that,” Nikolai observes blithely, zipping his jacket. “What is the call, Ghost? Keep her? Dump her?” You flinch. “You won the bet. You picked her. It is your decision.”
Shaking, you sit up, gluing your eyes to the hulking man as he rolls his mask into place. He tucks it into his collar with the same fingers you’re sure were inside you in the car.
Okayyyy A/B/O Nikghostprice. Inspired by a post of ideas @s0fter-sin they also let me yap while writing :3
2,700 words.
Content warnings : sex (mild amounts) , extreme self depreciation because Simon is silly, mentions of roba alluding to SA,
Simon knew he got in the way, that was his whole life summarised.
He was only ever kept around because he was useful for something for the other, to the point they could put up with him slightly.
Or they were too nice to kick him away, and were entertaining him much like a stray dog. The second was obviously the current situation he was in.
He had somehow crash landed his way into the middle of Nikolai and Price's sex life, and both were too nice to outwardly kick him out.
And Simon, selfish Simon, didn't leave. He knew they didn't actually want him, but he couldn't say no when they offered.
He knew he was causing issues and should call it off, but he just couldn't. It was so so selfish. But that's all Simon was, selfish and unwanted.
The two had given him the slightest hint of affection and he'd clung to it like a pathetic wet pup.
He hadn't even been hauled in giving them some kind of fun of sex.
No.He had been on a mission and been dumb. He wasn't paying attention, he was distracted and it got soap hurt.
One of the pack got hurt because of his incompetence, and now he couldn't handle it. Rather than looking after Soap and dealing with all the paperwork like a good responsible alpha.
He shut down. Like a pathetic toddler throwing a tantrum, he just shut down. He wasn't even the one hurt for fucks sake. Yet he was being pathetic.
Price obviously couldn't stand the level of pathetic one member of his team was being.
Should anyone have seen Ghost they'd have got a bad impression of the whole team. Price had roughly grabbed the back of Ghosts neck, scruffing him till his knees went weak and then dragged him back to Price and Niks shared room, pushing him into the bed.
Wait, not a bed, nest.
Simon had never been in a nest, it was so comfortable and soft, and the only scent he could smell was safe and calm.
His eyes had fluttered closed quickly. A mix of the stress and the sudden relaxation from the nest and scent. It was so warm and comfortable.
Simon had felt even worse because Price had stayed up the whole time, clearly worried that should Simon wake he'd do something dumb or steal or something.
Then when Simon woke it had taken him a second to get his brain working the nest so comfortable, before he remembered Nik was coming home today. Simon could only imagine how fucking pissed the alpha would be if he came home to find Simon, another alpha in his and price's nest.
He had scrambled out before price could even shoo him out. Better to leave before he was forced to. The amount of time they would tolerate him was limited, he needed to make it last.
Simon wasn't even too sure how he'd tumbled into their sex life. He silently mused lying on the now cum covered bed, Price licking the remains of Niks cum from the Russians hips.
He just somehow ended up in it, but he wished selfishly, he wished so badly those bites on his neck would inch just a little closer to his scent gland.
He loved their scent intermixing with his, he just wished they didn't make him wash it off right after. He wished he could bottle the scent of his and theirs mixed and smell it whenever he was stressed.
But that was selfish.
He had so much already, he couldn't push for more. They had picked him up, like a sad wet pup, and out of some form of pity or feeling of obligation, entertained him.
And now, like usual he felt those warm, soft but rough hands, urging him up, to go wash off the scent. It always hurts slightly, they made him wash off the scent everytime.
But he knew he was being silly. They were a bonded pair, he didn't deserve to keep their scent on him. He stepped under the shower letting the warm water soothe his aching muscles slightly.
The showers would be nice, if he wasn't washing off their scent. Apparently he was taking too long to wash up, because Niks rough hands began lathering him with body wash and washing him up.
Nik was clearly eager to get Simon out so he could go back to cuddling with his mate. Nik quickly washed Simons body before putting a towel round him.
Simon can take a hint, he wasn't about to overstay his welcome he grabbed his clothes putting them on, and hurrying out of there before he could actually be asked to leave.
As he left he heard Niks sigh of relief, clearly glad the other Alpha was leaving. It hurt a little, but Simon had no right to be hurt, he was intruding and they were so kindly entertaining his neediness.
That night, like many others he slept curled up in his bed, cuddling a pillow as if it would replace the touch he craved.
Meanwhile John sighs, laying on Niks chest, happily burying his face in that lovely hair and alpha scent. “Wish he'd stay longer sometimes, wanna cuddle."
The man below him hummed “Yes, but we must wait until he is comfortable, no?”
John rolled his eyes with a grumble. He knew this, he had told Nik this many times. It didn't mean he wouldn't be annoyed at not being able to cuddle Simon.
His scent blended so well with both of theirs, he fit in so perfectly and Johns inner omega purred with happiness the first time he had gotten Simon curled up safe and asleep in the nest.
But nonetheless, they had to wait until Simon was comfortable. They had been biting near the scent gland in offering, but he hadn't accepted. And that was fine.
Although it didn't stop John from burying his face in Niks luscious locks and groaning “Yeah yeah, I know darling but like…. Ugh. I know he has issues with stuff, so we are going at his pace. But it's obvious he doesn't sleep well. I just wanna pull him into the nest, and get him sleeping and happy.”
Nik nodded solemnly, running hands down his omegas back “Da. I know.”
Both of them had been thinking Simon was hot for years, but it wasn't until after a mission when Soap had got injured slightly, and the alpha froze up, they realised how well Simon fit in.
John had tried to snap Simon out of it, but he was too deep in his head, so he had to resort to doing what any good pack leading omega would do. He gently scruffed the other. Just enough to make him malleable before hauling him into Nik and his nest, burying him in the strongest scents of pack and calm till he fell prey to sleep.
John had stayed up to make sure Simon was sleeping safe and sound with no issues.
In fact he happily stayed up, watching the other man's pretty face. Purring and grooming him, making sure his hair was untangled, and he was safe. Simon sleeping so happily had John's inner omega purring with pride and happiness.
When the man had woke he left quickly, but John hadn't blamed him, sometimes you just need your own space, especially after something like a hard mission, but atleast he'd slept.
Nik had come home, and was overjoyed that Simon had been there, his scent blended so well, and Nikolai was so happy to hear how well he had rested, grooming and praising John for getting him to sleep.
He was much like a pup to them.
They loved him dearly and wanted him as comfortable and safe as possible.
Simon groaned, curling up on his bed against the wall, it had been a long mission. For everyone involved, Price was exhausted, Soap was in med for minor injuries, and Simon was dead on his feet.
He found his dumb brain wishing for the warmth and comfort of the nest with Nik and price. It was dumb, he somehow got himself so used to the nest.
It was so selfish to even want that, Nik and Price were probably just trying to relax and decompress. He curled up tighter, absently smelling the remaining scent of price still on his gear.
It was comforting. The omega smelled like cinnamon and something distinctly safe and warm. Niks scent really wasn't on anything of his, unfortunately.
But god Nik smelt heavenly, a mix of Oil and earth. It was strong but grounding, it wasn't an overwhelming musk like some alphas.
He could almost smell Niks scent with how much he was thinking about it. Actually, hang on.
No, he could smell Niks scent!? Why was Nik coming here? Had Simon screwed up? Was Nik coming to tell him it was all over?
He flinched as he heard the knuckles wrap against his door. This was it, they were tired after that mission, they didn't have it in then to humour him any more, still he called out a come in, watching as the door creaked open.
The alpha walked in, his scent filling the room, still slightly relaxing Simon despite everything.
At least he didn't smell angry, so it wouldn't be an aggressive cut off. Nik walked over to the bed, sitting next to Simon. “John is very stressed, come to nest, da?”
Simon nodded slowly. Price wanted to be there when breaking it off, but didn't even want to leave the nest to do it. That stung a little more then it should.
He'd be being told about how he couldn't be a part of this anymore while the comfy warm nest he has selfishly grown accustomed to was right there.
Still he followed Nik silently, internally wincing at Niks hand on his back. He knew this was it, it was over. And still Nik was being fucking gentle! Why couldn't Nik have just ended it there in Simon's room, rather then walk him to the nest, with one of those great big warm hands on his back, gently rubbing it.
He took a deep breath as the door opened, smelling the cinnamony scent hitting his nose. It still somehow relaxed him, despite knowing what would happen, he loved that scent.
No one spoke for a minute. It was silent. It was shitty, Simon just wanted this over with.
Then Price reached out from the nest, grabbing Simons wrist and suddenly pulling him in. Simon barely got a chance to work out what happened before Price was snuggled up against him nuzzling his neck, hands running I've the alphas body.
Simon blinked, frozen and thoroughly confused “Uhh”
.Nik sat in the nest too, running a hand through Simons hair “Let him be. He was concerned about if you are injured.”
Simon was still thoroughly baffled but let price scent and groom him. This didn't seem as if he was being kicked out, much the opposite. Prices purrs were vibrating through the room loudly as he grooms Simons hair, scent smelling distinctly relieved.
The touches slowly turned from gentle relieved to hot kisses, burning with intensity, and hands grasping his belt.
Simon didn't fight it, but glanced at Nik trying to discern what the dynamic was today, but Nik just sat back, cock already out, resting heavy and hard in his hand.
Seemingly just watching today.
Price was clearly desperate, kissing roughly, while tugging Simons pants down, with soft panting moans.
Simon let himself sit back as Price eagerly lapped at his cock, already preparing himself with sweet little whiny moans.
Nikolai absently threaded a hand through Simons hair as he sat back, stroking his cock, while watch his omega settle on Simons cock, already riding the other. The soft sweet little moans, and the sweet cinnamon scent of Price was filling room as he fucked himself dumb on Simon rock hard cock.
It barely took anytime before Simon and the others were cuming. He knew he had to get up, he had to leave, before they decided they were done and booted him, but he was so so sleepy.
Exhausted from the mission and now this, everything hurt and it was so warm here. Surely he could just rest his eyes for a minute.
His eyes fluttered closed, feeling so warm and safe.
Simon drifted in and out of sleep, until he suddenly woke properly around an hour later.
Shit. Shit shit.
They were gonna be so pissed. He tried to sit up, but was stopped by a warm weight on his chest. He blinked, looking down to find the shape of Price, resting curled up, head and torso against the alphas chest.
Price was…. Asleep on him? That didn't seem like he had to leave. He glanced around seeing Nik still awake behind him.
He also vaguely registered he was clean.
Niks hand came back into his hair, stroking it back “Lay back down, da?”
Simon let himself be pushed back down, thoroughly confused. “But… uh.. don't… don't you want me going”
The Russian blinked at him, taking his chin in one of those big warm hands and tilting it up to make eye contact. “Why would we want that?”
Simon paused… “Cause you'd want to be…. With ..your…. Mate.. Not having me in the way?”
Nik gently bapped his head. “You are basically second mate. Shut up.”
Simon's brain stopped. What did Nik mean, he was basically a second mate? He just got in the way, they always made him wash the scent off.
“But… but… you…”
Nik cut him off with a gentle kiss “We what? You are second mate”
Simon felt like his brains was melting out his ears. He sat up, ignoring the groan/whine from Price as he rolled off Simons chest. “But…. You… you make me wash off your scent everytime?!”
Nik blinked incredulously at him “Is aftercare! To wash off cum and sweat. You want scent? Then stay and cuddle, da?”
Simon stammered shutting and opening his mouth several times “But….but..I… why… Why would you want me to have your scent?? I… I mean I'm not even marked by either of you.”
Nik was now looking at him like he was dumb, and Simon felt a flush spread over his face.
“You are not marked… because you have not accepted our offers and courting. We would not mark you without consent?”
“Offers??? COURTING?? What fucking offers!?” Simon practically squeaks.
Nik face palmed. Hard.
“A mark left near a scent gland is an offer, of marking. This is basic knowledge, da? Where did you get your sex Ed?"
Simon froze. “I… well …. I kinda …uhm… didn'? My father..” the word father was laced with thinly veiled disdain “Didn'... Really believe in that…. And then… uh… Roba.. happened…”
Simon takes a shakey breath voice quietening “And… well I wasn't really.. planning on uh … being with anyone… ever.. again… but now I'm with you.”
Nik stared at him, face softening. “I .. Simon. Do you know what consent is?”
Did he-? Of course he fucking did. “Yes! I'm not a fucking idiot Nik!”
The Russian patted his shoulder. “John and I have been trying to court you for months. We want you as part of our relationship, permanently. You do not have to leave, da? It is your nest too. We want to mark you, and have your scent.”
And… oh. They… they wanted him?Simon half expected Nik to yell sike, but he didn't, he continued to look at him with that soft, sincere expression
. Someone actually wanted him? He.. he was allowed in the nest? The warm safe nest? They actively wanted him to stay and not leave.
“I… I… you… you want me?” He felt tears welling in his eyes, and he knew he sounded like a pathetic pup.
The Russian pulled him close, nuzzling his neck, and rubbing his cheeks along Simons cheeks.
The Englishman froze. He really wasn't sure what was going on.
Nik stared at him
“I… scenting Simon. You know what?”
Simon squeaked slightly as he felt himself be tugged forward onto Niks chest, big warm arms wrapping around him.
He was still confused and overwhelmed, but god it was hard to be sad with his face pressed in those hairy tits.
ghost doesn’t know how long he’s been on the ground
doesn’t know how long the cold’s been leeching into his knees, the concrete unfinished, jagged, biting through his jeans to tear at his skin. they’re wet. they’re wet and he doesn’t know why. he thinks it was warm at some point. it’s not now
he doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at nothing, the oppressive silence a physical weight bearing down on his shoulders, driving him even further into the unforgiving floor
the near silence
there’s a drip somewhere, a steady, rhythmic echo landing in something wet, something shallow. he doesn’t know where it’s coming from, can’t parse if it’s close to him or lost somewhere in the distance. every light splash cuts through him like a gunshot, a flinch he can’t control shocking his body
god, he wants it to stop
something sloshes through the shallows and ghost’s seized stiff muscles scream and rebel just enough to let him blink, the hinges of his eyelids almost rusted still. ripples break against his sodden legs and a great mass breaks through the long void of his vision
his breath shudders as an arm loops under his armpits, the other curving around his waist. he follows, limp, as he’s gently tipped forward into the plush breadth of a chest and doesn’t even feel nik tense as he holds his body together and lifts; fiery pain bursting through his knees as they unfurl, chasing away the cold with white-hot vengeance
his boots just brush the ground before he’s set back down, his weight still held in nik’s arms, as his numb feet struggle to flatten and hold him
nik doesn’t pull away, his arms don’t leave him adrift in the almost-silence. he waits; waits for him to steady, for him to stand. but ghost can feel it in the broad hands spanning his sides; he isn’t waiting for him to straighten, isn’t waiting for him to break away or stand tall. he isn’t waiting for him to gather his crumbled pieces and spit on his touch
nik doesn’t expect him to be whole
“come, ghost,” nik murmurs, his voice as steady as the arms holding him strong, blind to his razored edges. or, perhaps, in spite of them. “let’s go home.”
