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Untouched

Reply to Lucy

Added to the Roswell Slash Archive September 6, 2001

Title: "Untouched"
Author/pseudonym: Lucy
Fandom: The Forsaken
Pairing: Sean/Nick.
Rating: NC-17.
Status: New, complete.
Archive: No.
E-mail address for feedback: lucy_fur1@yahoo.ca
Series/Sequel: None.
Other website: http://members.tripod.ca/~angelspace/Lucy.html
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Sean and Nick's relationship changes, but the balance of power is thrown off unexpectedly.
Warnings: Not beta'd. More lj fic, but longer than a ficlet this time. Changed quite a bit from the original idea, but I still went for it. Not long until the dvd release, now. . .



        Sean had been dreaming. He couldn't remember what it was about, just knew that it had to have been something good, hot and dirty judging by the way his fist was moving back and forth over his already-hard cock, tugging and stroking rhythmically. He was close, still mostly asleep, only awake enough to know that he wasn't dreaming anymore.

        He swiped his thumb over the sticky head of his cock, once, twice, and that was enough to bring him over the edge and he was falling into the orgasm, breathing harsh and hand still pumping, and it wasn't until it was over that he realized what his mouth had said when he came.

        "Nick."

        He didn't dare open his eyes, glad he hadn't screamed out the name, flashes of the dream all of a sudden far too clear in his mind, which taunted him and wouldn't let him stop remembering. He tried to still his breathing and wanted to just roll over, turn the other way, go back to sleep and pretend, hoping that maybe Nick somehow hadn't heard him from the other bed. He would have, too, only it might have been even more embarrassing to wake up in the morning stuck to the sheets, so he lay there, face flaming and eyes closed, and tried to will himself back to sleep.

        He was almost there when he felt it, the side of the bed dipping down and then a rough, wet velvet that lapped at his stomach and over his thighs, cleaning his skin and his cock. He didn't move, could barely breathe, wanted to open his eyes but couldn't, just lay there and felt that tongue lick him clean, and then hands tucked him back into his shucked-down shorts, and a soft mouth kissed him, right above the navel, and he slept, for real this time.

* * *

        They didn't say a word to each other all the next day. Sean couldn't remember a time during the whole trip when they hadn't said a word to each other, but he couldn't make himself meet Nick's eyes and Nick himself seemed willing to just exist in the silence. He slept most of the day while Sean drove, stealing glances at his passenger from time to time, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between them, why his unconscious mind had all of a sudden chosen to betray him and admit to desires he didn't even know he had.

        When they finally stopped for the night at a motel by the highway they still hadn't said a thing - hadn't spoken at all all day except to give orders to the waitress at the diner and request a motel room from the sweaty guy in the office. He walked through the motel room and straight into the bathroom, locking the door behind him without even asking Nick if he needed to use the facilities.

        Groaning, he pressed his back against the bathroom door and slid down to the floor, knees drawn up in front of him. He didn't want to think, didn't want to move, just wanted to sit there all night and maybe he'd get up in the morning and Nick would be gone, or they'd have gone back in time and nothing had ever happened. He told himself it was just because he needed to get laid and hadn't in such a long time. It had been too goddamn long since anyone had touched him, and Nick was always there with him, so it wasn't really all that unusual that his unconscious mind had latched on to the most readily-available image and twisted it into some kind of fantasy. It didn't mean anything.

        It didn't have to mean anything.

        He finally got up, after forty-five minutes or so. He could hear the dull blare of the tv and knew Nick was probably on the bed, flipping channels to find something that was a little less terrible than all the rest of the stuff. He stripped and climbed into the shower, setting the water at cool and letting it pound over him as hard as it could, scrubbing himself ruthlessly with a sandpaper washcloth and spending another orgasm down the drain, hoping that would be enough for his libido for the night. He changed into a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

        Nick looked up at him as soon as he emerged, meeting his eyes for the first time all day, and even though he wanted to, Sean couldn't look away, caught in that dark gaze. When Nick smiled, he almost sagged into himself he was so relieved, and he wanted to laugh and smack himself at the same time, realizing that he was an idiot, a blind, stupid idiot, and it was okay. It really was.

        He didn't even think before climbing into the bed and settling himself into the 'v' of Nick's spread thighs, resting his body back against Nick's chest. It was a comfortable position, and when Nick's free hand - the one not holding the remote - came around his stomach and lifted up his t-shirt a little and rested on his bare belly and just a little bit down the front of his shorts, not moving or trying to start anything, just warm and dry and comfortable against the butterfly-flutter of his skin, he thought that he'd never been so comfortable with another person before in his life.

        They watched tv, still without speaking, until the news was over and Nick shut off the tv, plunging the room into a darkness that was only relieved by the blaring neon that somehow managed to penetrate the blinds over the window. Sean hitched in a breath when Nick's hand started to move in slow circles over his stomach, and he wriggled, encouraging Nick to touch and feel him. He was more than half-hard, had been growing steadily more aroused the more used he became to the feel of Nick behind him, and when Nick's blunt fingers wrapped around his cock, he almost came from the first stroke alone. Nick sucked at the side of his neck and he dropped his head back onto Nick's shoulder, moaning and keening a little, thrusting his hips, feeling so good he didn't want it to stop, ever, he just wanted Nick to touch him and keep touching him, like this or any other way he wanted.

        Like this.

        Too soon, he was coming again, unable to stop himself, assaulted by Nick's hand and his mouth which were both so good to him, so encouraging, coaxing the pleasure from his body. When he finally stopped coming, he rested, lazily licking Nick's hand clean when it was brought up to his mouth, tasting himself and feeling Nick, lazy and sleepy and sated. They slid down into the bed and spooned together, and it wasn't until he was nearly asleep, Nick tight against his back, that he realized that Nick hadn't come, and hadn't said anything or done anything about it.

        Not only that, Nick hadn't even gotten hard.

* * *

        Sean woke up in the morning to the incredible sight of Nick between his knees, half of his cock in Nick's beautiful mouth, sucking him. The vision of that dark head bent over him was enough to make him come again, and Nick took all of him in, swallowing and licking him clean, not raising himself up until he was soft. He slid his hand into the front of Nick's shorts, but Nick grinned at him and swatted his hand away, and they lay there together, kissing until it was time to pack their stuff and get going again.

        And still, Nick never got hard.

        Sean slept fitfully that night, not wanting to let himself drift too deeply into sleep, so he could make sure that he was the first one awake the next morning. He did it, too, coming awake with a start and grateful that Nick was still snoring lightly beside him. He grinned to himself as he stealthily made his way down the bed, in between Nick's legs, and untucked the soft cock from his boxers. He was determined to make it good, to make Nick come as hard as he had, to make it up to him for being selfish and greedy, but Nick woke up as soon as his lips touched the head of his cock and pulled him up and away, dragging him up under the arms and kissing him deeply, not angry but determined.

        "I just wanted - " he said, in between kisses. "You haven't - "

        "I can't," Nick said, softly, plainly, without embarrassment, waiting for the words to sink in.

        Sean frowned, and then it struck him just what Nick meant by that, and he couldn't help but glance down at Nick's soft, unresponsive cock, blood rushing hot into his face.

        "Shh," Nick said, kissing his flaming cheeks. "It's okay."

        "But it isn't fair," he argued, feeling greedy for still wanting Nick's hands on his body, and his mouth on his cock, even though he couldn't reciprocate, even though he was using Nick.

        "I like to touch you," Nick said. "I like the way you taste. Let me," he said, and Sean blushed even harder because all of a sudden Nick was begging to let him give this pleasure, and he was sure that he was the greediest bastard in the world and that he'd feel exactly the same way whether he said yes or no.

        The blowjob made him come so hard his toes curled.

* * *

        It continued on that way for a week, Nick kept giving and Sean kept taking, telling himself every single time that this was the last, the very last and he wouldn't do it again because it wasn't fair that he was getting mind-shattering orgasm after orgasm and all Nick got out of it was some kissing and touching. It wasn't fair, dammit, and he told himself that every time Nick swallowed him down, repeating it over and over until he came, hot and hard and thick on Nick's tongue.

        Still it continued, until the breathless night when Nick was stroking him and he was biting his lip, trying not to come, trying not to want it so much that he couldn't stop himself, when Nick suddenly whispered into his ear, "Do you want to fuck me?"

        'Yes,' his mind screamed, but he clamped his eyes shut tight and shook his head, moaning, "N-no," even as he came, from the touch of Nick's hand and the vision of himself fucking that beautiful, tight body.

        He couldn't, and he wouldn't, no matter how badly he might want it, no matter how indelibly the mental image was seared into his brain.

* * *

        It made him more than a little depressed, this new 'relationship' of theirs, even though their bond was now so much stronger than it had been a week before. He wondered if maybe Nick's condition was a side-effect of the virus, and if once they found and killed his sire maybe he would return to normal. He didn't ask any of those things, too embarrassed to bring it up, but it gave him some hope and a renewed desire for the hunt - and then that made him hate himself a little bit more, because now he felt less concerned with finding the Forsaken to save Nick's life, and more concerned with enhancing his own sex-life, and he was truly the most selfish and disgusting pig alive, because Nick was what really mattered, not Nick's dick.

        God.

        He tried not to let Nick see that, though, knowing how his moods affected him, tried to stay upbeat and positive, tried to let Nick know how much he wanted him without making him feel self-conscious about his uncooperative body. They were as close as they could be without really being lovers, and if he still felt selfish and greedy whenever Nick touched him, Nick made him feel like it really was okay to do it, anyway.

        He was having his usual conflicting mental conversation in a diner over lunch one day, when Nick finished up his food and he was still sucking back the last of his watery coke.

        "Gotta hit the facilities," Nick said, and he nodded, distracted, barely acknowledging Nick's departure from the booth.

        It wasn't until he noisily finished the drink that he realized going to the bathroom before they left would be a really good idea. You never knew when diner food might hit you in a bad way, and at the very least he could empty his bladder and put off one pit stop.

        The bathroom seemed empty, just one stall door closed and he guessed Nick was in there. He unzipped in front of a urinal and was about to ask Nick if he thought they'd cross the state line before nightfall when he heard it, an unmistakable noise that made him stop, stock-still.

        "Sean."

        It was Nick's voice, and he was moaning, the sound thick with need. There was another sound, too, a wet, slapping noise, and then his name again, repeated over and over in a groaning, impassioned voice, and "fuck, Sean" and then he was listening to Nick come, hard and long and with the sort of keening cry that he'd been so desperate to hear from him - that he'd been so desperate to cause - for over a week, now.

        He tucked himself back into his pants and crept out of the room before Nick could emerge from the stall, deeply wounded and profoundly disturbed.

* * *

        He climbed into bed while Nick was still in the shower, willing himself to fall asleep quickly. He felt dirty and cheap, like some sextoy, especially after having pressed his ear against the bathroom door and hearing what he now knew were Nick's low moans, unmistakable even under the noise of the shower. Nick was in there, touching himself, coming with Sean's name on his lips and that was okay, but he couldn't have Sean's hands on his body, his mouth on his dick, because that was obviously just too disgusting, too unthinkable.

        He pressed his eyes shut tight and tried to calm his breathing, begging for sleep. It wouldn't come.

        Nick emerged in a cloud of mist, smelling clean and fresh and he got hard just smelling him, and, oh god why couldn't he just fall asleep already? When Nick climbed into bed behind him and his hands crept over his body, mouth pressed up against his neck, he tried really hard not to react, not to say or do anything when Nick whispered, "You asleep, Sean?" right into his ear.

        'Yes,' he thought, 'I'm asleep and just stop fucking touching me and let me sleep.'

        But Nick wouldn't stop touching him, and, for all of his efforts, Sean couldn't make his body stop reacting to that touch. He couldn't stop himself from wanting it, from getting hard, from breathing hard, and he slipped onto his back and pulled Nick down into his arms, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He wanted to ask why he wasn't good enough, but Nick's mouth was tight on his neck and his hand was busy stroking his cock, and dammit it wasn't fair, it wasn't fair that Nick made him feel so good and he wasn't allowed even the chance to do the same.

        He sucked a finger into his mouth, wetting it, and dragged it down Nick's spine until he reached the cleft of his buttocks. Slowly, carefully he slipped it inside, pushing back and forth.

        Nick froze.

        He could feel Nick's heart pounding, his breath coming in harsh gasps, as Nick struggled for control over his stirring body. Cruel and triumphant, Sean pushed the finger in further, finding the gland he sought and manipulating it ruthlessly until Nick's cock hardened unmistakably between them.

        "No," Nick gasped, wrenching away. "Sean, no."

        "Why?" Sean spit out. "Because as long as you're just fantasizing about me when you come, it's all just fantasy, it isn't real and it doesn't mean anything? But if I _make_ you come, then you're nothing but a faggot like me? Fuck you, Nick!"

        Nick looked at him, shocked. "No," he said, shaking his head, "no, you don't understand, Sean - "

        "You're right, I don't understand. I don't understand why you can completely blow my mind night after night, and I can't even touch you. So, make me understand." His anger was beginning to waver, replaced by the too-familiar feelings of despair and self-disgust. "Tell me, Nick," he said, voice shrinking down to a whisper, "why I'm not good enough for you, because, I want to be, and if you tell me, maybe I can figure out what to do to deserve you."

        Nick was silent and shocked, his face pale and stricken. "No," he repeated again, and his voice was as hollow and defeated as Sean's. "No," he said, and pulled Sean tight against his body, stroking and holding him. "I can't believe I made you think - I made you feel like you're not good enough for - Jesus, Sean. Jesus."

        Sean clung to Nick's body, wanting to feel him, wanting to close his eyes and sleep like this, buried deep in his arms, and wake up in the morning with Nick's mouth on his cock, giving him whatever he could. Whatever it was, he was pretty sure it was more than he deserved, and he didn't want to lose it, even if it made him hate himself for loving it so much.

        "It isn't that I don't want you to touch me, Sean, that I don't want your mouth on me, or your hands, or - god, that I don't want to fuck you and make you come just by fucking you." Nick swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. "But, Sean, I can't."

        "Why?" It still didn't make any sense to him, and he was rock-hard just at the thought of Nick fucking him until he came.

        "Because I'm infected, Sean. I'm infected. As long as I touch you, you're safe. I can control it. I set the pace, I make sure it doesn't go too far, I make sure I don't - " Nick's mouth worked, but no sound emerged. "Hurt you," he said, finally.

        Sean was shocked. "You'd never - "

        "You don't know that! You don't know what I'd do - you don't know what I think about when I jerk myself off! I think about fucking you until you bleed, Sean, until my come and your blood mixes together, deep inside your body. I think about biting hard into your neck when I'm fucking you, about clawing my nails into your skin, about licking you all over. I jerk off ten times a day to make sure I'm not hard when I get into bed beside you, and still sometimes I have to pinch myself so hard, just to keep from flipping you over and fucking you right through the mattress, Sean. Jesus Christ I want you. You have no fucking idea."

        "Yes, I do," Sean said, climbing on top of him. "You think I don't think the very same things? You think I don't want it? I want it, Nick. I want it so bad. I want you to fuck me."

        Nick groaned, and Sean dipped his head, capturing Nick's mouth, holding his wrists tight against the bed.

        "No!" Nick managed, wrenching his mouth away. Sean panted hard against his neck. "No," Nick said again, more quietly. "We can't. I won't infect you."

        "Condoms - " he said, still breathing hard. "We can use - "

        "No." Nick shook his head. "I don't trust them. We don't know how this transmits, Sean, and I want you so much I wouldn't trust myself not to break through two condoms."

        "But I want - " Sean said, pounding the mattress in frustration.

        "I know," Nick said. "I know. I do, too." Nick used his hands to try to gentle him. "So, we find the motherfucking bastard and we kill him."

        Sean laughed, a mumbled sound against Nick's throat.

        "What?" Nick asked.

        "We kill him so we can have sex," Sean laughed, and it was funny and not at the same time. "Not so you won't die."

        "Oh," Nick said, and he chuckled, too, sounding about as amused as Sean felt. "Right."

        "Fuck," Sean breathed. "I hate this."

        "Yeah," Nick agreed. "I love you."

        Sean squeezed his eyes shut tight, swallowing down the lump that was his heart caught in his throat. "You, too," he managed, and it wasn't enough and none of it was enough, and it wouldn't be enough until the motherfucking bastard was dead.

        Nick held him until he fell asleep, and when he woke up, Nick was right there, bent over between his thighs.

        End

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