Until We Meet Again

18.

The walk from the pub to my flat takes us approximately twenty minutes instead of ten, because drunk Nick is a very childish kid.

He laughs at everything and pretends to be in a boxing fight, pushes me in the bushes and stops to peck my lips every second.

I'm in a good mood, so it simply makes me laugh and roll my eyes at him.

He's annoying. But I love him for that.

We're both a bit drunk, me being a lightweight makes everything better when you're a poor guy like me. Only two beers and I was giggling at everything.

When I joined them at the pub we met at again tonight, I thought I'd done something wrong. I thought I'd ruined all my chances of seeing him.

And now we're walking back to my place together.

I can feel that this entire story ate him whole, he's been talking about it non stop and has been apologising for spreading lies about what my intentions were with him.

"It's okay, Nick. Ever heard of a misunderstanding?" I say with a giggle, knowing he'd take it lightly.

He's a pretty understanding lad, and he smiles at my comment before shaking his head and looking at his feet.

"Told everyone you were an ass." he says with a giggle. "They all struggled to believe it, not gonna lie."

I cherish the moment, because drunk Nick is brutally honest, and while he walks next to me hand in mine, he tells me how he missed my face.

"When I closed my eyes I could see your sweet dimples and your bright eyes." he tells me, but I think he's more or less talking to himself.

Remembering a moment he enjoyed even during a dark moment.

As soon as we get in the staircase to my apartment, Nick kisses me like his life depends on it, his hand on my waist and the heel of his foot looking to close the door.

He's clumsy, and hungry for whatever I might give him.

I manage to open the front door, my brain foggy with thoughts of Nick on top of me.

I need him.

My arms wrap around his neck as his lips dance over mine, our noses bumping into each other every now and then.

His heel finally reaches the door, and he's skilled enough to do two things at the same time : kissing me, and giving us privacy.

The door closes, and it leaves us in the dark.

His hand looks for the lightswitch messily while he grumbles against my lips.

My mind is tied in knots, his smell, his hands wandering everywhere, his tongue hitting mine, his body pushing mine to the nearest wall.

The alcohol in both of our systems makes it even messier, even though Nick has had a lot more alcohol than me, our breaths hitching whenever our bodies connect. It pretty much ressembles the first time we hung out together.

Our hands had touched and I swore I could hear fireworks and feel jolts of electricity in our fingertips.

"Fucking Hell." Nick grumbles, and only then do i taste the beer on his lips.

We're so drunk right now.

"What's it?" I ask, missing the feeling of his lips on mine already.

Nick is so addictive. Everything about him makes me want to go after it again.

When he touches me, it's like we've never touched before, and when he talks to me, he looks into my eyes and never breaks the eye contact.

When he talks, his voice soothes me instantly, and when I hurt myself, his kisses are like band aids.