Summer in our bones ✓

19 | the way we say I need you

I'm running like a maniac down the long hallway leading to the entry, throw open the front door and run down the wide stairs where I see Nico's fleeting form. I couldn't just let him go in that state, drunk and dishevelled when something I did caused this, and I can't figure it out. There are obligations and people that expect me to be at that event but like before, Nico's pull is too strong and every logic abandons my brain, I just have to make sure he's alright. Even if that's not alright for me.

I spot him in the car park and he's trying to find his car, which makes me shout his name and run faster—there's no way I will let him drive like this.

"Nico, stop! Shit... Nico!" I reach him finally, breathless.

"No, l-leave me alone, Jordan...I'm fine."

His breathing is heavy and frantic yet he grins desperately. But all that false brightness is gone in a second as he presses his hand on his mouth, suddenly turning around and bending, the content of his stomach rushes out of him in the bushes behind his car.

"Yeah, I can see how fine you are." I hold his forehead and rub his back even though I'm not sure any of that helps. "That's good, let it all out. You'll feel better."

His body heaves a few times before the coughing finally subsides. Soon after he sits back on the concrete, leaning on the car tire and just takes deep breaths, with his eyes closed.

"Come on, I'll drive you home."

"N-no, I'm... it's ok, I'll manage. You need to go back in."

"I'll message my mate, I'll tell him I've been sick and had to go home. They'll understand."

His eyes are a different shade of brown than the ones I was used to having stare back at me. All dark and serious like the deep water of that sea he'd grown up on—he looks at me like he's going to cry again. He doesn't comment, just gets up and I guide him to the passenger door.

It takes me a while to find his home even with the sat-nav on my phone that I made Nico type his address in. And he's no help after shifting as far away from me as possible to his right, the side of his head pressed against the window, eyes flat, unblinking and fixed forward. In silence. I'm still struggling with driving through Madrid traffic and unfamiliar streets but I get there somehow. It's a picturesque part of town, a posh residential area with high buildings, fountains and neatly planted rows of trees. I park where he points and he doesn't protest when I follow him to his door.

If I need more proof that Nico is rich it's right here, inside his top-floor flat, but I don't bother with the tour, I guide his stumbling drunk self into the bathroom.

"Sit down. Come on. Arms up." I take his shirt off and he groans as he's sitting on a closed toilet seat.

"Please, don't make me shower now," he licks his lips nervously when they tremble.

"Only a little bit, yeah? You'll feel better. Are you still in pain?"

"Pain?"

"I hurt you," I'm hesitant to touch him anywhere where is naked skin, "Come on, help me take your trousers off. Is there blood?"

"No, you didn't hurt me," he mumbles, "what are you talking about?"

"I thought it was the..." I pause and search for the right words, trying to explain with only my eyes. "I... I was pretty rough when we... I thought I hurt you, down there...and then you got upset..."

"Oh. No... Jordan," he cuts me off and cups my face. "I promise you, my ass is fine. There's your cum but not blood." He tries to smile after his crude description and I cringe because once again I lost my mind with him, not thinking about my health. His health. Condoms were the last thing on my mind at that moment. All reason abandons me when Nico is close and that should be a good warning sign.