in his whole life if he’d ever actually loved anybody but Cy, even when they were children.
“You don’t have to say that,” Cy said, his thumb sliding over the bruise on Webster’s jaw.
“I know. But it’s true. I just need you to know that in case anything…” Webster trailed off, shaking his head, before dragging his hands over Cy’s bare chest.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Cy swore.
“You can’t promise that. I don’t even want you to. I just want you to know. I just want to get lost with you for a while. Can we please just pretend we’re not in this place? Just for a little while?”
Cy cupped Webster’s face. “We can do whatever you want, Nicky. You know that.”
“Well, I just want you.”
It was strange to see Nicky so broken yet so determined to somehow regain his equilibrium. The bruises would heal, but this place was taking its toll on him. Maybe it was because he thought he would’ve been out already? Cy had gone into prison knowing it was his home for the next twenty-five years, and even though he’d been terrified, he’d been forced to not let them see that. It helped that he was almost too big to fuck with. Some had tried, but they’d quickly been set straight.
Whatever it was that had Nicky spiraling, Cy saying yes to him had been the easiest thing in the world. In a place like this, bottoming was often seen as a bitch move, something that implied you were owned or for sale. There were no politics in this, not for Cy. Maybe Nicky needed this to right himself mentally, but Cy wanted to know what it felt like to have Nicky inside him. He didn’t know if Nicky had meant his declaration of love, but Cy thought it could be true, because he loved Nicky, too. Always had. Not in the way he loved him now, obviously, but they’d been connected their whole life, almost from the moment they’d met.
Cy needed to be needed, and Nicky always needed him, even when he didn’t. Maybe that was toxic, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. This situation wasn’t normal. They had never had to love each other in a normal situation. Cy wasn’t sure they’d ever get the chance to know what normal even was. If this was all he and Nicky got, he was going to do his best to make sure he enjoyed every second of it.
Nicky finished undressing Cy but didn’t remove his own pants. He turned him to face the bunks. “Put your hands up, open your legs for me, and don’t move.”
Cy shivered at Nicky’s low throaty demand, doing as he asked. When he dropped down to his knees behind him, Cy’s breath caught in his throat, groaning as Nicky spread him open, rearranging his stance to make whatever he was about to do easier.
The first stroke of Nicky’s tongue across Cy’s hole was timid, like he wasn’t sure if Cy would stop him. As if Cy would ever do that. “Do it again,” he demanded, dropping his forehead to the cold metal of the bunk’s frame.
Nicky buried his face between Cy’s cheeks, his tongue no longer timid but doing broad sweeps, sending tiny pulses of pleasure along Cy’s whole body until his nipples pebbled and his heavy cock leaked.
When Nicky speared his tongue against Cy’s entrance, he did his best to relax, pushing his hips towards him. He focused only on the sensation of Nicky’s blunt nails dragging along his thighs and the way Nicky’s quiet moans vibrated against Cy’s skin as he probed the deepest part of him like the pleasure was in the giving, not the receiving.
Nicky’s mouth disappeared, and Cy mourned the loss, but then a slick finger was sliding over him, massaging the tight ring of muscle, before he slipped it in up to the second knuckle. Cy hissed at the sudden invasion, not because it hurt but more just at the shock of a new sensation.
“You okay?” Nicky asked, kissing Cy’s hip, his finger still.
Cy nodded before realizing Nicky couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I’m…I’m good. It just surprised me.”
Nicky placed another kiss on Cy’s ass cheek and then wrapped his fist around Cy’s cock, focusing all his attention on the tip until Cy was groaning into his forearm. He relaxed in increments until Nicky’s finger was glancing over his prostate in a way that had his eyes rolling in his head.
“Fuck me,” he muttered, more in