Because I Want You

Chapter Eight: Because I Want You

Dave's jeans were far too long at the leg, but only a little bit too wide for Nick. He had hung his wet clothes in the en suite bathroom to Dave's bedroom to dry and looked around as he zipped up the jeans. Dave's room was more than twice the size of his own. Nearly everything in the room was twice the size of the things he owned, too. Dave had a king size bed, a thirty inch computer screen and a walk-in closet that was, on its own, nearly as big as Nick's entire bedroom. Everything was beautifully decorated in various shades of blue, green, and off-white, though the effect was rather ruined by the dirty laundry and general messiness one would commonly associate with the bedroom of a normal teenage boy.

Nick tiptoed down the stairs into the living room, lingering in the doorway. It was a handsome room, decorated in creamy whites and earth tones, with a comfortable looking sofa in beige suede leather and matching arm chairs, several bookshelves in dark wood lining the walls, a glass topped coffee table, and a very large flat screen TV. There were several paintings on the walls and an antique, Victorian fireplace. The rain was still pitter-pattering on the tall windows facing the garden. The sky outside was darkening.

Dave was reclining on the sofa. He had gone for the rather more leisurely option of pyjama bottoms and a very silky looking dressing gown, and he was reading a magazine. He was wearing a pair of fashionable black-rimmed glasses, and his blond hair was still damp from the rain. He looked so delicious where he sat that Nick almost had to stifle a whimper.

All the same, Dave must have heard him enter, because he looked up, smiling, and took off his glasses, laying the magazine aside (somewhere in the back of his mind, Nick managed to note that it was a science journal).

'Hey, you,' said Dave softly.

Nick blushed. 'Hi . . .' He looked away. 'I, er . . . I never knew you needed glasses.'

'Yeah. I normally wear contacts, to school and stuff.'

Nick nodded, his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor a few feet in front of him.

'Well, come on, then,' said Dave, encouragingly. 'Have a seat.' He scooted over a bit on the sofa, making room.

Nick looked up, his tongue absent-mindedly flicking out of his mouth and brushing his upper lip. He took a hesitant step forward, drew a deep breath, and went to sit down, looking as casual as he could possibly manage. He sat down gingerly, pulling his left foot up to rest under his right knee, and glanced uncertainly at Dave.

'So,' said Dave cheerfully. 'What would you like to do? I've got XBox, movies, we can pop popcorn, heat up a pizza . . . Whatever you like, really.' He smiled at Nick. 'Honestly, just tell me what you want.'

God, I want you, Nick thought, but he didn't voice it out loud. Instead he said, 'I . . . I don't really know . . . What games have you got?'

In the end they picked a random dual-player racing game and amused themselves with that for a while, occasionally glancing over at one another.

'Haha, yes!' Dave exclaimed triumphantly when he creamed Nick for the third time.

Nick laughed as well, putting down the controller and leaning back in his seat, a bit more at ease now.

'You are way too fucking good at this, you know,' he said shaking his head.

'I've been grounded for a week and couldn't play football. What else was I supposed to do with my time?' Dave joked. He put down his controller on the coffee table and had a sip of cherry Tango. 'What can I say? I have no life.'

Nick snorted a laugh at this. 'What, you? Mr. Popular? No life?'

'Not one that matters much, anyway,' said Dave, shrugging. He pulled up one leg under him and turned so he was facing Nick, resting his elbow on the backrest and his face in his hand. He was still smiling, but it was a different sort of smile now, more serious. His blue eyes were boring into Nick's, making him feel exposed and bare.