Fixing Nico [boyxboy / yaoi]

Ch 2 - Cake and Other Sweet Things

~CHRISTIAN~

I was staring at the doorway from the living room into the hallways long after Nico had dragged his luggage off. Huh, I thought to myself, scratching my head absently, Weird kid. 

It was hard to believe Nico was only a year younger than me. The top of his head only came up to my chest - he wasn't even tall enough to reach my shoulders. He was slim; under his baggy, black clothes I could barely find a hint of muscle. His shaggy, cropped black hair hung in his eyes, completely concealing them when he looked down, and his face was as white as a ghost's - a sure sign that this kid didn't spend much time in the sun. 

But when he'd looked up at me… his eyes were his most striking feature. Big, and ringed with long, black eyelashes fit to make any girl jealous, they were light-grey, flecked with blue and violet. His lips were pretty, bow-shaped, and curved up, slightly pointed at the two peaks…

Holy fuck, I could not stop staring at that door.

Thankfully, Chase and Nico's Mum trampled through the living room. She glanced at me as she heaved her suitcases past, plastering on a big smile. 'Christian,' she exclaimed, her voice bright, cheerful and fake. 'How are you finding the place so far?'

'It's great,' I reassured, trying to sound as sincere as possible so the look of apprehension could vanish from her face. I knew it'd be like this - it always was with people who working with my father. 'I feel at home already.'

'That's wonderful!' she cried, trying to hide her relief. 'Let me know if you need anything - we'll have dinner soon, though.'

'Okay. Thanks, Mrs. -'

'Sophie,' Nico and Chase's Mum said with a sweet smile. 'Please just call me Sophie.'

'Sure.' I smiled back at her as she started trudging back through the living room, wavering under the weight of her bags. 'Uh… need any help?'

'No,' she chirped - she may have given the same response as her son, but her tone was the exact opposite. 'No, no, why don't you go back outside with Chase and Nick? I heard the footy's on the radio.'

'Sure,' I said again, trying to keep up my cheerful tone as she ploughed out of the room - in truth, I hated football; especially listening to football. I didn't understand any of the football jargon, and the Commentator spoke so fast it was like I was listening to gibberish - but I didn't dare tell them that. Nick worked for my father's company; directly below him, in fact. I was sure exactly how the next three weeks would play out; a constant battle to impress me, make me happy, show me a "good time". If I said I didn't like football, they'd refuse to even mention it - that's the way it was. 

And I'd always hated that - after all, the only reason I'd even been invited to stay with them for half the summer was because of my father. 

I sighed, stalking out of the living room and back out to the deck in the backyard, forgetting completely that I'd gone inside for a glass of water. Suddenly, I didn't want it anymore. Chase and his father, Nick, were both flopped out on wooden deck chairs in the sunlight. Nick had a cold beer in one hand; the little droplets of liquid glinted and winkled at me mischievously from the rim of the bottle. The lapping, blue water five meters from the deck winkled and sparkled too, like little stars flashing across the waves. 

I took my original seat, next to Chase who was staring intently as their old, black radio. 'Roosters are winning,' he murmured excitedly. 

'Yay.' I was glad he was too entranced to notice my lack of enthusiasm. 

Nick grunted from his own chair. He was wearing black sunglasses, so it was impossible to tell whether he was happy about the Roosters or he was just sleeping. His hands circled his beer bottle loosely.