Once again, Joe throws himself into the job. He’s so, so close, but before he knows it, another month has come and gone.
Nearly there, is all he writes in the check-in draft message. Joe trudges home through the rain—Taipei has entered the wet season—buoyed only by the promise of another video.
He strips down to his boxers and crawls under the covers, hoping the sight of Nicky will warm some of the bone-deep chill he feels.
The latest video is back to standard phone-camera quality. Joe can’t be sure—the room’s a bit dark, with light pouring in from the side, probably a bedside lamp—but it looks like Nicky is filming from their room in Warsaw.
He’s on his stomach, face turned to the side and resting on the pillow. Joe has a view of everything from his head to his thighs, though a sheet covers everything below the small of his back.
Nicky’s hands are gripping the pillow from beneath it. His hips are rolling against the mattress, humping the bed. He’s staring into the camera, eyes wide and glittering, mouth hanging open.
Joe rolls on to his stomach and props his phone against the pillow on the other side of the bed. Like this, he can almost trick himself into thinking Nicky’s across from him, instead of across the world.
Almost five minutes in, and Nicky still hasn’t said a word, though the sound of his whines and moans is enough to drive Joe mad with wanting. Suddenly, Nicky screws his eyes shut and gasps, “I wish it was you I was fucking into, Yusuf.”
He sounds anguished. He buries his head in the pillow and Joe clenches his fist, silently bidding Nicky to look back at him, but Nicky lets out a long, muffled grunt as he comes.
Joe is half-hard, but he doesn’t touch himself—he just waits, eyes fixed on the rise and fall of Nicky’s back.
Finally, Nicky pushes up to his elbows and looks into the camera. His face is blotchy, and Joe’s heart constricts—has he been crying?
“Nothing is enough,” Nicky tells him, voice soft and scratchy. “Even if my own hand could give me a fraction of the pleasure you do, it wouldn’t matter—I cannot sleep without you beside me. I—” He cuts himself off with a sigh. “My Yusuf. I love you, I think of you always.” He smiles a little and Joe’s heart breaks.
The video ends and Joe is left staring at the black void of his screen.
Enough is enough. He’s going to wrap this job up—if not tomorrow, then the day after that.
———
To Joe’s chagrin, the job is not so easily finished, but three or maybe four weeks later (he may have lost track of the time a bit) the launderers have been turned over to the local law enforcement, along with plenty of incriminating evidence.
Joe throws his shit in a duffel and is on the first plan he can find back to WAW. He spends the flight consoling himself that he’s still completed the job in half the time they originally anticipated.
Disappointingly, his big surprise entrance goes unnoticed—no one seems to hear the safe house door open, presumably because the raised voices in the kitchen drown it out.
“—reasonable, Nicky. Let’s give it another few days, you know time is just a construct for Joe—”
“He would not miss this, he knows I would worry,” comes Nicky’s voice, sounding panicked.
Shit. The rush to finish the job, the race to get back—he forgot about the check-in he’s now at least twelve hours late for.
Joe edges into the doorway so he’s in the full view of Nile, who’s leaned against the counter.
“Uh, guys, we’re good.”
Nicky and Andy look at her, then follow her gaze. Joe drops his bag just in time to get an armful of Nicky.
They share a quick kiss before Nicky lets go so he can greet Andy and Nile. “You’re six months early,” Andy says. “What happened? Did your cover get blown?”
“What? No!” Joe scowls. “I got it done.”
Nile, now wrapped in Joe’s hug, cracks up.
“Ha!” Nicky shouts, grinning as he accepts and pockets a wad of Euro from a begrudging Andy. “Thank you very much, boss.”
Looking sour, Andy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, this will teach me to respect the power of true love.”
“Wait. You bet on this?”
“What’s wrong, my love? Of course I bet on you.”
“I just—wait, is that why you—”
Before he can finish, Nicky leans in to give him a long, wet kiss. Joe’s brain whites out.
“Let’s celebrate your homecoming,” Nicky says, pulling him into their room.
When the door shuts behind them, Joe pulls Nicky into his arms, intent on kissing him until he’s dizzy, but Nicky, intently, tells him, “Don’t say anything to Andy.”
“About us fucking? I think she already knows.”
“No,” Nicky says, voice low. “The videos. She will accuse me of foul play.”
Joe’s jaw drops. “I’m sorry, are you telling me those videos were about winning your bet?”
“No!” Nicky kisses his forehead. “Of course not. They were about my insatiable need for you.” He looks at Joe earnestly, then his lips twitch. “That they helped me win my bet was only an added benefit.”
“Nico, you little cheat.” He pinches Nicky’s ass.
Nicky smirks and grinds against him. “I had plenty of reasons to encourage you to hurry.”
Then Joe does kiss him. He kisses him as he steers them to the bed, as he strips off their clothes, as he pins Nicky beneath him.
He sucks bruises into Nicky’s neck while he ruts against him, wild for the feel of their cocks rubbing together. Just touching Nicky after months apart already has him so close.
“Joe.” Nicky swats at his shoulder blades until he pulls back. “Is this how you want to come?”
“I don’t think I can last long enough to open you up, and if you put a finger in me I know I’m done, fuck, Nicky—”
“I’m already open enough,” Nicky says, and guides Joe’s fingers to his hole. “You were supposed to check in, remember?”
“Oh fuck—my video—is it on your phone?”
Nicky nods.
“Pull it up,” Joe barks out, powerless to tamp down the force of his sudden need.
Nicky has to push Joe off to grope for his phone in his jeans pocket. While he searches, Joe quickly lubes up his cock, almost vibrating with anticipation.
His eyes are a little glassy but full of devilry as he gives Joe a scorching look. “You want to watch me finger myself open for you while you fuck me, love?”
“Fuck, fuck, Nicky, please—"
Nicky props his phone against a book on the nightstand and hits play. Joe watches for a moment as the Nicky on the screen starts teasing his own hole, then he yanks up the legs of the Nicky beneath him and pushes into that perfect hole.
Watching the recording of Nicky playing with his own ass while Joe fucks into it in real life is an experience that’s going to need repeating. He fucks Nicky like an animal, urged on by the whispers of “yes, Yusuf, harder, harder” in his ear.
The video Nicky doesn’t even look close to coming, but Joe feels himself starting to unravel until his own orgasm is inevitable. It hits him with such force that he practically yells in Nicky’s year, a string of curses punctuated with Nicky’s name.
He comes so hard that when he comes back online, the video is over and he’s been rolled off Nicky, on to his side. Their fronts are pressed together, and he can feel Nicky, still hard against his thigh.
“Good?” Nicky asks as he strokes Joe’s sweaty curls from his forehead.
“Fuck. So good, Nicky.” He cracks a smile and gets a soft kiss.
“Though,” Joe continues when Nicky pulls back, “I regretfully haven’t done much for your, ah, insatiable need.” He glances down pointedly.
“Never fear, my love,” Nicky tells him. “I’ve had plenty of time to think of all the ways you might make it up to me.”
Re: Joe/Nicky, Joe goes undercover & Nicky makes sex tapes to keep him company 3/3
Nearly there, is all he writes in the check-in draft message. Joe trudges home through the rain—Taipei has entered the wet season—buoyed only by the promise of another video.
He strips down to his boxers and crawls under the covers, hoping the sight of Nicky will warm some of the bone-deep chill he feels.
The latest video is back to standard phone-camera quality. Joe can’t be sure—the room’s a bit dark, with light pouring in from the side, probably a bedside lamp—but it looks like Nicky is filming from their room in Warsaw.
He’s on his stomach, face turned to the side and resting on the pillow. Joe has a view of everything from his head to his thighs, though a sheet covers everything below the small of his back.
Nicky’s hands are gripping the pillow from beneath it. His hips are rolling against the mattress, humping the bed. He’s staring into the camera, eyes wide and glittering, mouth hanging open.
Joe rolls on to his stomach and props his phone against the pillow on the other side of the bed. Like this, he can almost trick himself into thinking Nicky’s across from him, instead of across the world.
Almost five minutes in, and Nicky still hasn’t said a word, though the sound of his whines and moans is enough to drive Joe mad with wanting. Suddenly, Nicky screws his eyes shut and gasps, “I wish it was you I was fucking into, Yusuf.”
He sounds anguished. He buries his head in the pillow and Joe clenches his fist, silently bidding Nicky to look back at him, but Nicky lets out a long, muffled grunt as he comes.
Joe is half-hard, but he doesn’t touch himself—he just waits, eyes fixed on the rise and fall of Nicky’s back.
Finally, Nicky pushes up to his elbows and looks into the camera. His face is blotchy, and Joe’s heart constricts—has he been crying?
“Nothing is enough,” Nicky tells him, voice soft and scratchy. “Even if my own hand could give me a fraction of the pleasure you do, it wouldn’t matter—I cannot sleep without you beside me. I—” He cuts himself off with a sigh. “My Yusuf. I love you, I think of you always.” He smiles a little and Joe’s heart breaks.
The video ends and Joe is left staring at the black void of his screen.
Enough is enough. He’s going to wrap this job up—if not tomorrow, then the day after that.
———
To Joe’s chagrin, the job is not so easily finished, but three or maybe four weeks later (he may have lost track of the time a bit) the launderers have been turned over to the local law enforcement, along with plenty of incriminating evidence.
Joe throws his shit in a duffel and is on the first plan he can find back to WAW. He spends the flight consoling himself that he’s still completed the job in half the time they originally anticipated.
Disappointingly, his big surprise entrance goes unnoticed—no one seems to hear the safe house door open, presumably because the raised voices in the kitchen drown it out.
“—reasonable, Nicky. Let’s give it another few days, you know time is just a construct for Joe—”
“He would not miss this, he knows I would worry,” comes Nicky’s voice, sounding panicked.
Shit. The rush to finish the job, the race to get back—he forgot about the check-in he’s now at least twelve hours late for.
Joe edges into the doorway so he’s in the full view of Nile, who’s leaned against the counter.
“Uh, guys, we’re good.”
Nicky and Andy look at her, then follow her gaze. Joe drops his bag just in time to get an armful of Nicky.
They share a quick kiss before Nicky lets go so he can greet Andy and Nile. “You’re six months early,” Andy says. “What happened? Did your cover get blown?”
“What? No!” Joe scowls. “I got it done.”
Nile, now wrapped in Joe’s hug, cracks up.
“Ha!” Nicky shouts, grinning as he accepts and pockets a wad of Euro from a begrudging Andy. “Thank you very much, boss.”
Looking sour, Andy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, this will teach me to respect the power of true love.”
“Wait. You bet on this?”
“What’s wrong, my love? Of course I bet on you.”
“I just—wait, is that why you—”
Before he can finish, Nicky leans in to give him a long, wet kiss. Joe’s brain whites out.
“Let’s celebrate your homecoming,” Nicky says, pulling him into their room.
When the door shuts behind them, Joe pulls Nicky into his arms, intent on kissing him until he’s dizzy, but Nicky, intently, tells him, “Don’t say anything to Andy.”
“About us fucking? I think she already knows.”
“No,” Nicky says, voice low. “The videos. She will accuse me of foul play.”
Joe’s jaw drops. “I’m sorry, are you telling me those videos were about winning your bet?”
“No!” Nicky kisses his forehead. “Of course not. They were about my insatiable need for you.” He looks at Joe earnestly, then his lips twitch. “That they helped me win my bet was only an added benefit.”
“Nico, you little cheat.” He pinches Nicky’s ass.
Nicky smirks and grinds against him. “I had plenty of reasons to encourage you to hurry.”
Then Joe does kiss him. He kisses him as he steers them to the bed, as he strips off their clothes, as he pins Nicky beneath him.
He sucks bruises into Nicky’s neck while he ruts against him, wild for the feel of their cocks rubbing together. Just touching Nicky after months apart already has him so close.
“Joe.” Nicky swats at his shoulder blades until he pulls back. “Is this how you want to come?”
“I don’t think I can last long enough to open you up, and if you put a finger in me I know I’m done, fuck, Nicky—”
“I’m already open enough,” Nicky says, and guides Joe’s fingers to his hole. “You were supposed to check in, remember?”
“Oh fuck—my video—is it on your phone?”
Nicky nods.
“Pull it up,” Joe barks out, powerless to tamp down the force of his sudden need.
Nicky has to push Joe off to grope for his phone in his jeans pocket. While he searches, Joe quickly lubes up his cock, almost vibrating with anticipation.
His eyes are a little glassy but full of devilry as he gives Joe a scorching look. “You want to watch me finger myself open for you while you fuck me, love?”
“Fuck, fuck, Nicky, please—"
Nicky props his phone against a book on the nightstand and hits play. Joe watches for a moment as the Nicky on the screen starts teasing his own hole, then he yanks up the legs of the Nicky beneath him and pushes into that perfect hole.
Watching the recording of Nicky playing with his own ass while Joe fucks into it in real life is an experience that’s going to need repeating. He fucks Nicky like an animal, urged on by the whispers of “yes, Yusuf, harder, harder” in his ear.
The video Nicky doesn’t even look close to coming, but Joe feels himself starting to unravel until his own orgasm is inevitable. It hits him with such force that he practically yells in Nicky’s year, a string of curses punctuated with Nicky’s name.
He comes so hard that when he comes back online, the video is over and he’s been rolled off Nicky, on to his side. Their fronts are pressed together, and he can feel Nicky, still hard against his thigh.
“Good?” Nicky asks as he strokes Joe’s sweaty curls from his forehead.
“Fuck. So good, Nicky.” He cracks a smile and gets a soft kiss.
“Though,” Joe continues when Nicky pulls back, “I regretfully haven’t done much for your, ah, insatiable need.” He glances down pointedly.
“Never fear, my love,” Nicky tells him. “I’ve had plenty of time to think of all the ways you might make it up to me.”
_______________________________________________________________________________
Hope y'all enjoyed the little plot twist(s) :D