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Niall’s vaguely aware of the increasingly demanding voice calling him from downstairs, fully aware he should’ve been down there 10 minutes ago pouring drinks and putting fucking nibbles into decorative little dishes or whatever a good host is supposed to do. He knows he needs to hurry up, really doesn’t need the hissed reminders every two minutes, but his legs just won’t comply.
He studiously avoids the bathroom mirror, not needing to see the dark circles and pale skin staring back. He’d been up until 4am trying to make sure everything was perfect. Banners, balloons, streamers, the whole nine yards. He’d planned the buffet months ago, poured over the specifics. What pairs with what? How can he time it all so nothing’s too hot or too cold? What the fuck is a vol-eu-vant when it’s at home? He only stopped when a firm hand dragged him to bed, shutting down any protests that he couldn’t possibly go to sleep this stressed. “Well fuck, Bambi, we can’t be having that. I’ve got just the medicine for that.” A sleazily grabbed bulge, a menacing smirk and a rattling so rough he’s sure his brain actually shook a little and he finally shut down enough to doze off.
He needed this to work. He could feel it in his bones, how desperately he needed to prove he could do it - that he could be everything Ruben wanted from him and more. He could be both the wanton whore and the dazzling little wifey who knew how to make him look good in front of his friends and colleagues. It’s imperative he be everything he’ll ever want or need, if he couldn’t then what would be the point in living?
“Fuck’s sake, Bambi! Do not make me come up there!” He’s yanked from his reverie by that same clipped tone, the same firm voice which could instruct him to jump in front of a bus if that’s what he wanted.
“Coming!” The breeziness sounds forced to his own ears but he splashes his face with cold water nonetheless and hurries out before he’s given the chance to look in the mirror again. It’s Ruben’s birthday and he won’t spoil everything with his own self-indulgence again, not like last time. Ruben’s his purpose, the very reason his life has any meaning still and won’t give that up because he’s anxious over a few houseguests.
Ruben has far more friends than Niall, people flocking to him in a way Niall couldn’t even fathom. Prison mates, the lads from the rigs, blokes he’d only spoken to a few times down the pub, women just giddy at the prospect he might deign to indulge them in a little flirtation. Christ, even their bloody postman had RSVP’d.
It didn’t matter who it was, you met Ruben Pallister and you joined his orbit. You wanted, no - needed, him to think you were worth his time. You’d do anything to coax out his laugh, the broad one which had him grinning from ear to ear while his head tipped back enough to expose his gorgeous thick neck. It was heroin, once you had a hit you needed more and more until your entire being rested on wanting to please him.
None of that mattered though, there’s only one person who would ever see the true fruits of that labour, the only person who gets full access to his power straight from the source. All the stupid dolly birds can flutter their eyelashes and stroke his biceps all they want, because it’s Niall who he’ll grab by the scruff of the neck and throw to his knees to let him worship every inch, to look deep into his eyes and see everything hiding behind them. Niall almost slips on the stairs thinking about the inevitable birthday celebration tonight when everyone’s fucked off and it’s just the two of them again.
“About bloody time.” Ruben appears beneath him, fussing with the collar on his polo shirt. His eyes immediately meet Niall’s in the mirror by the front door and his knees still buckle slightly despite himself. He’d probably throw himself down these stairs right now if it meant Ruben, his Ruben, would keep looking at him like that.
“Sorry, sorry! Lost track of time, those little beef thingies took an age to cook.” He laughs as he comes up behind Ruben, wrapping his arms around his waist while he keeps fiddling with his shirt. He grunts in acknowledgment of Niall but it’s clear his mind is elsewhere.
Niall stands on his tip toes in order to rest his chin on Ruben’s tense shoulder, looking at him coquettishly when those familiar eyes meet his own in the mirror again. Nobody speaks and it’s perfect, Niall’s hands brush against Ruben’s rough ones as he stretches his arms round to flatten the wayward collar, unable to resist copping a feel of his pecs as he does.
“Will you relax, Rubes. I can feel your tension from here.” He sighs like a diligent wife trying to keep her hard-working husband’s blood pressure down. “Everyone loves you, you know that.” he smiles when Ruben grabs his roaming hand and plants a gentle kiss on the knuckle. A gent.
“Mhm, I know.” He rumbles deeply, forehead slightly knotted as if in thought. Ruben would never admit that he’s also been worried in the run up to today, that there’s a part of him that wants to impress everyone - to show anyone who might’ve doubted him that he’s made a fucking spectacular life for himself. The car, the house, the job (the dutiful, sexy other half). He’s brilliant and it’s no use hiding it, he’ll show any cunt who thinks otherwise.
Any hint of doubt doesn’t last long, Niall can almost feel the shift in energy as he comes back to himself. Shoulders squared, jaw set. Ruben Fucking Pallister doesn’t give a shit what people think, lest he forget who he is. This is his castle and he’s the king. He winks at Niall in the mirror and suddenly they’re 15 and 17 again, Niall’s word narrowing down to nothing other than his big brother looking at him with that cheeky grin.
“Come on Bambers, make yourself useful, will you?” He shrugs him off playfully as Niall hopes to breathe in his scent for even just one more second. It takes everything in him to pull away but he knows duty calls, guests are due in five minutes and drinks won’t pour themselves.
“Hang on.” He’s almost made it to the kitchen when Ruben’s grave voice stops him in his tracks. “What do you think you’re wearing?” He’s devoid of emotion. Niall looks down at himself in confusion, trying to find fault in his white tee and black jeans.
“I don’t-”
“Don’t what? See the fucking problem?”
“Uhm, not really…” He half whispers and can see it’s not the answer Ruben wants.
“You don’t see any issue with the fact you’ve waltzed down those stairs wearing those tight fucking jeans when you know we’ve got people coming round?” Seriously? This is happening now.
“Ruben, they’re just jeans.” He’s flustered and angry. Angry with himself for getting this wrong. Probably angry with Ruben for making such a big deal when he knows he’s devoted to him.
“Oh.” Ruben throws his hands up dramatically. “They’re just jeans, he tells me. Just. Jeans.” Each word is punctuated with venom, his eyes already taken on that angry mist he’s come to fear and crave in equal measure.
“Yes, I-”
“Shut up. You don’t speak right now.” In just one stride he’s practically towering over the smaller man. “This is a big day for me and you just couldn’t resist this little stunt, could you? Just had to decide now was the time to flaunt this little body, MY body, in front of all the lads?” Rough hands grab Niall’s chin.
“I wasn’t.” He tries weakly but Ruben’s grip remains firm. “I’m sorry, Ruben, I’m so sorry. I- I’ll go upstairs and change, okay?” He should know by now that any attempts of placation fall on deaf ears when he gets like this.
“Fuck, Bambi, you just had to get me worked up like this. Can’t fucking help yourself.” He scoffs and Niall feels so tiny, so worthless, so stupid as to ruin things before they’ve even started. He’d bought them especially, he’d felt surprisingly hot when he tried them on and imagined how Ruben would feel seeing him in them as they sculpted his behind beautifully. He’d touched himself right there in the fitting room imagining Ruben yanking them down his legs in his haste to get inside.
“I’m sorry, okay?” His watery brown eyes look up at Ruben with sadness and shame. “I thought you’d like them.” He sniffles and watches Ruben’s armour crack a little.
“I do, baby, I do. But you need to understand certain things are only for me to look at.” He runs a hand across his cheek sincerely and Niall wants to melt into that feeling. “You’re mine and I have to protect you, hm?” He stares intently into Niall’s eyes before he nods in agreement. “I know what other men are like, sweetheart, we can be utter pigs.” He speaks softly, like he’s trying to explain to a child why they can’t have that pick ‘n’ mix. A part of Niall wants to point out that he too is a man but he knows Ruben would not want to hear it and frankly they both know it’s not true, not really.
“I know, but-”
“And as YOUR man, it’s my job to keep you safe from that. You don’t want them ogling you, do you?” He shakes his head theatrically for effect with a dramatic pout. “You don’t want them having nasty thoughts of all the things they want to do to you?” He wipes a tear from Niall’s cheek. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying. “Come on, say it. Do you?”
“No.” Ruben nods emphatically at his response.
“Exactly, that’s why you need me, my sweet bambi.” He smiles softly. “My innocent little Bambi, the world’s a horrible place but I’ll always protect you. You’re safe with me.” He leans in for a kiss and Niall reciprocates without even thinking.
“Thank you.” He whispers as he nuzzles into Ruben’s neck, once again breathing in his aftershave. It smells like home.
“Of course, I love you.” Ruben nods with almost hilarious sincerity. “Now come on, let’s get you changed.”
Niall’s about to comply when the front door flies open, a gaggle of party guests all bearing gifts and even more booze come tumbling in.
“Fuck’s sake, Niall, didn’t you hear us all knocking.” Lori tuts disapprovingly as she thrusts her coat at her bewildered son. “Five bloody minutes we were camped out there.” She rolls her eyes dramatically. Hello to you too, mum he thinks bitterly before stopping himself.
“Sorry, guys! My fault, totally lost track putting up the balloons in the garden!” He ushers everyone in as more guests arrive, manly-slapping Ruben on the back in that typical laddish fashion, always asserting their stupid dominance, he doesn’t dwell too much when the aforementioned lads instead hug him gently and tell him what a lovely job he’s done with the place.
Despite everything he can’t help but smile as Ruben greets his adoring public, Mr Charm Offensive as he faux-bashfully shrugs off birthday wishes and cracks a joke or two. He looks so handsome, his black polo shirt stretched tight across his bulging muscles. Niall bought that shirt, picked it out especially, almost giddy with excitement when Ruben declared it his favourite. Yeah, he fucking chose that shirt with all the hands stroking over it.
When the rabble finally clears, ushered through to admire the sprawling back garden, it’s just the two of them left again. Ruben’s expression is unreadable.
“Uhm, I’ll just…” Niall gestures awkwardly upstairs with his thumb, hoping to leave this whole jeans debacle behind them. Ruben just grunts an affirmative “You do that.” and Niall shivers at the dead look in his eyes. Neither of them speak, Niall too frightened too and Ruben because he doesn’t have to.
“Niall, darling! Where can I find the wine glasses?” Roy’s wife Katie unknowingly breaks the growing tension as she bounds back into the hall. It’s almost impressive how quickly both their expressions right themselves, Ruben the personable birthday boy and Niall, his hostess with the mostess. He kicks himself internally for forgetting something as important as wine glasses.
“Ah, of course! I’ll show you now, babe.” Niall links his arm through Katie’s as they laugh about something innocuous, so focused on putting out this particular fire that he completely forgets about the other, far more threatening blaze.
~~~
“Seriously, Niall you’ve outdone yourself here. This chicken is actually to die for.” Another of Ruben’s rig mates came over to compliment the food and Niall had to keep from blushing with each one.
“Mhm, truly. Best spread any of us have ever done, should get you giving pointers to my missus.” Another gaffaws and earns himself a playful slap from the aforementioned wife. He dips his head bashfully and tries not to bask in the praise, ecstatic at the fact he’s undoubtedly doing Ruben proud. A part of him quietly wonders if the implication there is that he’s Ruben’s missus and exactly how he’d feel about that?
He’s totally lost himself, his face actually hurting from smiling as one of Ruben’s old prison friends delight in telling tales of their various cellblock escapades and a slightly unfortunate incident involving a plastic fork which Ruben jokingly tries to desperately shut down. There’s a warning in his eyes though, don’t say too much you prick! and the conversation moves on.
Of course everyone’s desperate for Niall to dish some dirt, anything at all about their bedroom sharing days of boyhood. He knows better and stays schtum, Ruben’s all smiles now but Niall’s sure he wouldn’t hesitate to teach him a lesson right here if he ever embarrassed him, he tries not to picture being bent over and spanked raw right there in the kitchen with an entire garden full just a few feet away. He’s sure Ruben’s enough of a mad bastard to actually do it.
If any of the lads think it's bizarre Ruben lives with a) a man and b) his stepbrother, nobody shows it. Everyone’s more than friendly but who wouldn’t be when the alternative is bitten off noses and caved in skulls? A truth everyone knows but nobody ever speaks, not even to each other.
Still, it’s nice to relax for once, he loves chatting to the girls as they gasp in slack-jawed shock at the audacity of something Susie had said to Laura last week, personally Niall thinks it’s unacceptable but suggests it’s understandable in the wake of what Susie’s husband just did. Everyone agrees thoughtfully before descending into giggles and even more wine top-up’s.
He’s exhausted but elated, finally having a moment to breathe to himself down at the bottom of the garden. He’s smiling proudly at the little hydrangea he’d planted a couple years back, now a flourishing bush - a true labour of love. Ruben had felt the garden was lacking and Niall made it his mission to transform it into their own little oasis. He laughs to himself thinking about the naive uni student who’d somehow struggled to keep a plastic fern alive. Now look at him, he has his own gardening gloves for Christ’s sake!
“I’ve heard a lot about you.” He turns to find another one of the guys from the rig behind him. Chris, he wants to say.
“That so?”
“Oh yeah. Never shuts up about you.” Chris, yes definitely Chris, grins.
“All good I hope?”
“For sure. Always talking about how pretty you are. How… helpful.” He smirks and Niall’s sure he’s not imagining some implication in his tone.
“Well, you know, I like to help as much as I can.” Niall angles his body away slightly. “Ruben just works so hard, it’s the least he deserves.”
“Mhm.” Chris sips his drink and Niall can’t explain his own unease. He looks around surreptitiously as everyone else seems occupied.
“Besides, I’m at home all day so it makes sense you know?” His tone is light as Chris nods along and he starts to tell himself it was all in his head. He’s just on edge still after that whole thing earlier.
Chris keeps chatting, even comments on the flowers which starts Niall a spiel on the highs and lows of plant maintenance. He’s surprisingly into it these days. Chris raves about some beef sandwiches Niall had made and Ruben had shared one week, asking for the recipe even though Niall’s certain he’ll not actually remember a word. Maybe he’ll make some extra when he sends Ruben off with his lunch.
“You know…” Chris starts like he’s already thinking maybe he shouldn’t. “If you and Ruben ever fancied a bit of the old, you know, wife swap malarky I’m sure my Amanda would be well up for it.” He winks, he actually winks.
“Wha- with me you mean?”
“Ha! Don’t be daft!” Chris laughs, incredulous. Like that’s the silliest thing he’s ever heard. “No, I mean old Pallie obviously. God she’d love that.” and Niall bristles at even the thought. Who the fuck is Amanda and why would he want her anywhere near his Ruben. Hang on!
“And what? You’d get me, huh?” He scoffs, probably drunker than he realised. “Dream on, I’d kill you myself if Ruben wouldn’t have already gotten you first.” He knows that’s true, frankly that he’d likely kill both of them.
“Don’t you ever suggest something like that again.”
“Hey, calm down! It was just a suggestion. A hot one at that.” He runs a gentle hand down Niall’s arm while he freezes. Nobody else has touched him in a long time. It feels wrong, invasive.
“No.”
“But he said-”
“Sharing my secrets, Bambers?” Big hands slip around Niall’s waist and he can’t decide between relief and horror. How much did he hear?
“Not likely, Pallie. This one’s very tight-lipped.” Chris chuckles and Niall balls up his fist to keep from smacking him one.
“I’ve trained him well. Haven’t I, Bambi?” He slaps his arse, actually. That should anger Niall. It doesn’t. “Excuse us.” Ruben smiles politely and grabs Niall by the back of the neck, sending a cool chill down his spine. A single bead of sweat genuinely runs down his forehead. He’d laugh if it weren’t for the tightening grip.
“Enough.” He hisses in his ear. “They’re coming off now. I told you not to wear those slutty fucking jeans.” The hand on his neck pulls away as they near the other guests. “Didn’t listen though, did you?”
“I tried-”
“Shut up.” Under his breath. “Oi, Parskey! Don’t you think you’ve had enough, mate?” He chuckles loudly at some bloke falling over a wall. Everyone laughs but Niall.
“Ruben, please.” He gasps quietly but goes unanswered. Ruben slings an arm around him jovially, face nuzzled in his nape.
“Go upstairs. Change. I want you out of my sight until you stop looking like some sort of desperate slapper.” He kisses his cheek sloppily, much to the joy of several whooping lads.
“Yeah, yeah. Piss off you bunch of bellends.” He rolls his eyes dramatically as Niall slinks off sheepishly. “Aw, you’ve embarrassed my bambi now, boys!”
~~~
Niall’s on autopilot when he makes his way up the stairs, grateful nobody stops him along the way. How much did Ruben hear? It can’t have been much if Chris is still walking. He hadn’t done anything wrong but if Ruben saw the stroke of his arm it’s probably enough, he’ll be lucky if he can sit comfortably for a week after tonight.
The quiet of the walk-in wardrobe is an unwelcome respite, too much silence to try and keep the anxiety at bay. He can see the party from here, the floor length window at the far end looking out into the garden. Between the heavy trees and the side angle he can go pretty much unnoticed, everyone’s so engrossed in conversation and booze that they wouldn’t think to look up anyway, but he can see them.
Times like these Niall gets existential, if nobody sees me am I even here? He wants to slap himself for being so maudlin.
Subconsciously he finds himself looking for Him. He likes watching when Ruben’s caught unawares, it’s sometimes like watching a complete stranger. Or something not real, like maybe he’s been a figment of his imagination - some mythical beast he’s invented to feel like he could actually be someone.
He’s chatting to some bird in some stupid tarty dress, just an inch too short to be decent. She’s laughing, they’re always bloody laughing. How must it be to waltz through life with everyone you meet falling about themselves just to laugh with you?
Niall shoves off the stupid tight jeans, feeling their absurdity with each minute they keep clinging to his spindly legs. What was he thinking? Trying so hard to make an effort and just making a tit of himself instead. Was he pathetic? They’re still laughing down there and he’s got a good mind to go down there and rip those blond extensions out the stupid girl’s hair. On his angrier day he wonders, how come Ruben gets to flirt with anything with a pulse while dragging Niall from anyone who so much as smiles in his direction? How far would he actually go? Is he Niall’s as much as Niall belongs to Ruben? He can’t vocalise it, knows they’d probably cart him off to some madhouse if they ever knew how he really felt. Ruben would understand.
Some days he’s angry, others he just wants to cry. Wants to scream himself so hoarse that Ruben can see how he’d even give up his voice if it meant keeping him forever. On the worst days he wonders if he should leave, find something boring and conventional. Some marriage and 2.4 kids bollocks, suburbian boredom and half-arsed vanilla missionary when they can pencil it in.
He’d tried it once, leaving. He can’t even remember what the fight was about now, just knows it was a bad one. By the time Ruben had slammed the front door practically off its hinges, not a single photo frame remained untouched, nor a plate left un-smashed. He’d packed a bag there and then, didn’t know where he’d go but just that he had to. He almost made it too, if it weren’t for the fact Ruben came back and saw him there with his pathetic suitcase, all his worldly possession in one measly case. Where did he actually think he was going to go? Surviving out there by himself? Ha. Ruben set him straight pretty quickly. The details get hazier over time but he remembers shaking on the floor as Ruben told him to clean his shit up and to come to bed and stop getting stupid ideas. There was probably blood. Definitely some cum. He never tried leaving again.
“Looking for something, Bambi?” He practically jumps out his own skin at the voice behind me, Ruben standing there, cool as you like, with one arm resting on the door frame. Smug prick.
“I-”
“Cat got your tongue? Someone got you all flustered.” He smirks, rocking oh so fucking casually against the frame. He’s so imposing like this.
“I was looking for you.” He murmured. It’s not even a lie.
“Yeah? Not Chrissy boy? He can be a right old flirt when he wants to be. Is that why you wore those jeans? Needed to reel a new one in?”
“We were just chatting.” He keeps his eyes downcast.
“About?”
“Uhm, plants? The garden, I guess?”
“Don’t fuck me around, Bambi. What else?”
“I’m not! He, uh, said he liked those beef sandwiches I made that time. You know the ones with the, uh, honey and the-”
“Alright, I fucking get it!” He snaps before composing himself. “And all that requires him to stroke your body does it?” oh so he did see. Fuck.
“I was about to tell him to stop!”
“Uh huh, I’m sure.” He shuts the door slowly. “Tell me, what would you have done if I hadn’t shown up?” He’s inching closer.
“Nothing!”
“Would you have sucked his cock, huh?”
“Of course not!”
“No? Would you have let him fuck in that little rose bush of yours? Not giving a shit who saw as he shoved you into the mud?”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Niall takes a step back only to be met by glass. He’d spent hours yesterday painstakingly cleaning every last one, even standing precariously on a ladder for the tiny little side windows nobody would even see. It had to be spotless.
“Am I? Surely I’ve seen enough by now what a dirty little slag like you is capable of.” He folds his arms, Niall doesn’t look at the way it accentuates his muscles.
“Yes, with you!”
“Just me?” He raises his eyebrow. Neither of them ever talk about Niall’s promiscuous history. That was in the past, he gets everything he needs from Ruben now. Neither likes to think of it too much.
“I’m not doing this, we have guests.” He tries to slip past as Ruben shoves him by the throat, not caring about the sound reverberating against the glass. The music downstairs is plenty loud enough.
“And? I’m the only person who should matter to you.” He spits.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Of course.”
“Prove it.”
“What?”
“Come on, Bambers. Show me whose body this is.” He’s clutching at Niall’s boxers, animalistic as he tries to pull them down. Niall tries to push his hand away but Ruben holds his wrist with ease, strong enough that he knows it’ll definitely leave marks. “Stop resisting.”
“Please, our guests. Later, please!” Bargaining already, bodes well.
“No, now.” He grunts and shoves Niall’s underwear down in one foul swoop. “This is my fucking body and I want it now.”
“Rub-”
“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.” He slaps his face. Hard. Niall’s big brown eyes look up in shock. There’s so much he wants to say, should say, instead his cock twitches between them. Traitor. Ruben laughs near hysterically. “And you want to try and pretend you don’t want this? You need this.”
And he does, every last toxic drop. He needs it like the air he breathes. Even when it hurts he needs this.
“Turn around.” Ruben grits, shoving him himself when Niall doesn’t move fast enough for his liking. “Come on, that’s a boy, up against that window.” He has to brace himself with his hands against the cold glass, already fogging up with his raggedy breath.
“Ruben, i don’t think-”
“That’s right, you don’t. I’ll think for you.” He sneers and Niall has to muffle his screams as a hard cock suddenly enters him with no warning. He wonders where Ruben got lube. Was he walking round with it this whole time, biding his time while he waited to pounce.
He’s still open a bit from when Ruben took him hard this morning but fuck it hurts still, he’s sure something tore a little. He doesn’t ease in, just starts hammering away while Niall clings helplessly to the window. I just fucking cleaned that he thinks hopelessly.
“Fuckkk, for a whore you’re still so tight.” Ruben grunts. “Oh you fit like a glove, just made for my fucking cock. Nothing else could fill you like this.” He pants and it’s true. Nobody’s ever felt like Ruben.
Only when he tastes blood does Niall stop biting his lip, desperately trying to keep quiet.
“Shhh, baby. Keep those moans just for me.” Ruben soothes as he puts his hands over Niall’s own, linking their fingers. He hadn’t even remembered about anyone else until now, so wrapped up in the only person who actually matters.
He moans harder when he thinks about all those people outside, many of them probably fantasising about this exact scenario - having Ruben’s undivided attention as he consumes them completely. All those people blissfully unaware of what’s just out of view. All it would take is just one person to take notice, to round a corner and see the rapidly fogging up window and their joined hands, two bodies as one being.
Ruben must be on his wavelength as he thrusts harder.
“Jesus, Bambi. All these guests and you just couldn’t help yourself. My little wifey has no patience, huh?” He’s been calling him that more lately, wifey, and it’s nearly enough to send him over the edge. Imagine it, I promise to love, honour, obey. obey. obey. “You need this cock, don’t you? Fucking nothing without it. Wouldn’t have a clue what to do with yourself without it.”
“I need it.” He whines, voice shaking with each thrust. “Please, I need it.”
“I know, my greedy little princess.” That’s new.
“Look at them, Niall. You’d let every last one watch me fuck you, wouldn’t you?” He wouldn’t, nobody else should get to see how Ruben fucks, but Christ if the idea doesn’t turn him on. “Imagine it, showing every sorry little prick what they can’t have because nobody will ever satisfy you like me. Nobody gets you like me.” He’s rambling, out of breath, but each filthy word resonates.
“Please!” He doesn’t know what he’s begging for but he can feel how much Ruben likes it.
“My desperate, naughty little Bambi. Can they see you?”
“I don’t think so.” he whines, straining to see round the corner.
“You sure? None of the guys wanking themselves silly at the sight of a true shameless, filthy slut showing off for the whole world to see? Do you want them to see, Niall? What if I let them touch you, Niall? Tied you to the fucking bed and let every last one have a taste? Would you like that?”
“No.”
“No? You only want me? Only big bro can touch?”
“Yes, fuck! Ruben!”
“That’s right, this is my body. Mine. Even you only touch it because I let you. I fucking own you, bambi.” His breath is so hot in Niall’s ear. It’s too much and still not enough all at once. “Tell me I own you.”
“Please!”
“Say it. Say it and I’ll let you come.”
“Jesus, fuck. You own me. I’m yours. I belong to you, Ruben please!”
“Good boy.” He heaves and Niall’s body finally gives in with his permission, they come together. The window’s an absolute state, neither of them can breathe and Niall’s sure there’s no way nobody heard them. He wants to bury his head in Ruben’s chest and not come up for air until he knows they’re alone.
Ruben pulls out unceremoniously, his composure gained far quicker. Niall doesn’t fight when his legs finally buckle and he lands in a heap on the floor, curling in on himself. He stares at the mahogany grain of the cupboards, still hates them years after moving in. They’ve probably been here since the house was built in the 70’s. The secrets those walls could tell, though none probably as filthy as him and his man.
He’d suggested they get someone to build something new, update them at least, to which Ruben shot him a withering look. “I will not have some random man in this house building shit for you. You want something? I provide it.” He spat. He never did and Niall never asked again, he simply glares at the cupboards every time he comes in. Why he’s thinking about wardrobes, he’s not sure, but it’s all his mind can manage to fixate on.
A quick kick brings him back. He’d hoped Ruben would leave him lying here for a while, staring at his stupid ugly cupboards on his own, instead “Fuck’s sake, bambers. We don’t have time for this.” Niall groans as he tries to move.
“Come on, don’t be silly. There’s no time for this shit, I’ll kiss it all better later.” He sighs. “Up, up. We need to cut my cake. Stop being daft. I’ve got you.”
~~~
Niall beams genuinely as he carries the great three-tier chocolate masterpiece he’d been baking all week, feeling the glow as everyone cheered for one man and one man only, His man. His whole body aches as a reminder of who owns him, who consumes him. He’s smug as he glances around the room and knows he’s the only one who’ll ever have Ruben Pallister like this. His loose joggers don’t rub against his sore skin. He doesn’t react when Lori shoots him a scathing look.
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