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Naim saw them for the first time in the backyard of the Preacher himself.
And despite all that they had been through now, all the faith he had in Ryan was drained through one simple boy. Hunter haunted him, in the crevices of Ryan's neck where Naim kissed him the first night they'd spent alone, on Ryan's tongue, in his sweat, his blood, his tears. As they lay, tangled up in the doona, Naim couldn't help but think he wasn't the one the other boy wanted. Not even then. Not even since the kiss, the bus, the after. Naim was convinced he could see the end and the beginning of everything, and in it, he was unwanted. Discarded, alone.
He crawled into a sleeping Ryan's arms and inhaled the scent of nicotine and pot, mixed with bar soap. The room smelled of mildew. He could die, right then and there, he thought, and maybe then he'd be happy. Was he happier not knowing?
Was he happier, when the boy he loved still called him "mate"? When he was hungry, cold, motherless in the middle of nowhere, Australia? Could he be? He shook, just by nature, arms pressing against Ryan's ribcage.
"Naim, mate, what is it, hm?" Ryan mumbled, waking slightly. Naim pulled away, feeling the cold of the absence of another body pressed against his.
"Nothin'." He muttered, rolling over. And quit calling me mate.
Ryan pulled him in again, wrapping an arm around his waist and burying his face into the crook of the other boy's neck. The touch made him quiver.
"Come on, Naim," Ryan said, "something's wrong, your shaking."
Naim shook his head. "Am not."
"Are too," Ryan smirked. Naim turned to face him, noses almost brushing. "is this...did you see it too? On the first--" Ryan whispered.
The entity. Right. They had more urgent problems at hand.
"Yeah." Naim sighed. "But that's not..." he began. "Fuck. Ryan, I've been thinking...about Hunter."
Ryan withdrew, just an inch, but far enough that it tugged at Naim's heart. He regretted telling the truth almost instantly. The blond's face was a mess of confusion.
"How come?" He asked, voice louder this time, higher.
Naim swallowed. "I just--why'd you do it? Why'd you kiss him then?"
Ryan's expression melted into relief, then understanding. He sighed. "I did it because he made me. And I gave in, because...because I missed you." He closed his eyes. "Mate, I didn't mean to-"
There it was again. "Mate". Naim frowned.
Ryan paused. "What? What is it?"
"Nothing, nothing. Just Hunter." Naim said quickly, too quickly. "Do you ever think about leaving?" he blurted.
Ryan's eyes widened. "Us? You?" He asked. Naim nodded. "Oh, never. Never, Naim. This is where I want to be."
Naim chuckled. "What, on a rotting mattress in some shitty motel?"
Ryan shoved him lightly. "No, you twat. With you."
Naim felt a dopey smile coming on. He placed his hand at the nape of the other boy's neck and pulled their heads together, kissing him softly. Ryan worked his tongue into his mouth and--there it was again. Thoughts of Hunter, and how they'd done the same thing just weeks ago. But Naim didn't pull away. Instead, he went against the other boy harder, until their teeth bumped together. He tugged on his lip, licked his gums...did all the things he'd done days before but viciously this time. Hunter was dead. It was Naim now. Only him and the boy he loved, only them against the world.
Ryan pulled away first, out of breath. "Woah, mate, you really-"
"Don't call me mate." Naim said, panting. Ryan's lips parted, puffy and still wet from their previous encounter. Naim reached down and traced them lightly with his thumb. Ryan stared in awe.
"Naim-" Ryan began, but the other boy cut him off with a kiss. Naim worked his way down Ryan's neck slowly, nibbling at the soft skin that lay there. He bit where his pulse was, feeling it under Ryan's hot skin with his tongue.
"Fuck," Ryan whimpered. "Do that again,"
Naim smiled against his skin, and pinched him with his teeth again, tongue leaving a wet spot in the midst of his teeth marks. He licked his earlobe before continuing down, running his hands over the other boy's chest; Ryan's shirt lay on the floor already, so Naim pulled off his. He kissed every bruise on Ryan's ribs gently, every scar, every wound. Ryan arched into his touch, needy in a way Naim never knew he could get. He whimpered lightly. Naim felt heat rush to his stomach in bursts, and brought his thumb to the other boy's lips, pressing it there until he reached his happy trail, licking a stripe up Ryan's stomach and causing him to shiver.
"God, Naim," He whispered, voice shaking, just as Naim's thumb looped into his boxers. He looked up for reassurance. "Fuck yes, please," Ryan breathed, nearly faltering.
Naim shimmied his boxers down, letting Ryan's cock spring out. He made his way back up to Ryan's neck, wrapping his hand around his member. Ryan threw his head back instantly, breathing heavily. Precum lined the tip, and Naim swiped it away with his thumb, going over his slit once, then twice, causing Ryan to quiver again with pleasure. Naim's hand pumped slowly, at an agonizing pace. Ryan squirmed, opening his mouth to moan. Naim's hung open, watching the beautiful, angelic creature under him, shining with sweat. His eyes mostly closed as if he were looking into the sun, his sun kissed cheeks flushed...They were breathing into one another's mouths without realizing, so close they could've kissed. Naim sped up.
His name rolled off Ryan's tongue like a saint's, in such a holy way. Thoughts of the preacher's son crowded his head once more, causing him to tighten his grip. Ryan bit his lip and brought Naim's head to his chest, where the brunette kissed his clavicle, so lightly it could've been a dream.
Sweet nothings escaped Ryan's lips for what seemed like forever. Somewhere in between, Naim could've sworn he'd heard I love you. The AC rattled on in the distance, crickets chirping outside. It could've been raining. Naim couldn't tell, wrapped up in Ryan's steady breathing for an eternity.
"Fuck, Naim, I'm gonna-" Ryan grunted.
"Shh, not yet, not yet," Naim whispered, "hold on for me, love,"
So Ryan did. For at least another minute. Naim grinded against his thigh, craving any sort of friction, just as the blond came with a long, whimpered breath. Naim kissed him sloppily, the wet spot at the center of his boxers slowly expanding. Ryan glanced down and chuckled.
"Really? Didn't know you were that easy, ma--I mean, Naim." Ryan cleared his throat. "Old habits die hard."
Naim just chuckled, flopping down next to him on the mattress. Ryan grabbed a wad of tissues to clean himself up, rolling to press against Naim soon after.
"You were my first, you know." He said.
"First what? Handjob?" Naim smiled.
"That too." Ryan smirked, "I was talking about...the other thing."
Naim raised an eyebrow. "What other thing?"
"Oh, you know..." Ryan trailed off, "I love you Naim." He said in one short breath. The words hung in the air between them, Naim sucking it all in.
"I love you too," He murmured, pressing another kiss to Ryan's forehead.
They slept like that, tangled up in the doona again, legs splayed across one another, clutching on to each other like one might disappear. He loved him in a way he couldn't explain. If the God they had once been sacrificed to was, in fact, real, this was him, laying beside him in a sweating heap. Naim felt satisfied. Safe. He was probably as far from safe as he'd ever be, but it couldn't feel less like it. Here he was, in the arms of the boy that he loved, listening to his heartbeat on and on until it lulled him to sleep. He knew it now. He knew it for sure.
He was my boy first.