Beneath the Sheets: Nico's POV

533K 12.4K 56K
                                    

A/N: And here is my last little (but not so little, it's like 14000 words) gift to you - it really is the end now :') I hope you enjoy it, and thank you, thank you, thank you for reading. Also, here's some wonderful Nico fan art by even more wonderful @rita26199 - he's beautiful!

Oh, and just a heads up - there's some sexy time at the end of the chapter *cackles in smut* 

Oh, and just a heads up - there's some sexy time at the end of the chapter *cackles in smut* 

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Part I

It was warm. Too warm, even. It was an unfamiliar feeling, my bed never being this warm, this comfortable. My body itched, wanting to move closer and closer to the source of warmth that seemed to be moving further and further away. Legs tangled with legs, arms sliding around a smooth torso, curling into curves that made it seem like my arms were made to fit there. 

"Nico Beckett."

My name hung in the air, too loud in the silence and I grumbled. The voice needed to be quiet and just let me hold it. It needed to stop wriggling. On reflex, I tightened my hold on the person, my voice sleep-ridden and rough with fatigue.

"Be quiet, I'm sleeping," I said. A moment later, the warmth was gone. Groaning at the emptiness that surrounded me, I forced my heavy eyelids open, the afternoon glow blinding. I blinked a few times, vision clearing, and ran my hand over the dent in the sheets beside me, one that was created by the person lying there just seconds before.

I winced as my mind seemed to split, the taste of alcohol sour on my tongue and even more bitter in my head. Massaging my temples, I rolled over onto my back, the sheets rustling and smoothing out the person-shaped dent that was beside me. 

Things were hazy in my head, but once the headache began to dull, I could remember things clearly. Blonde hair, brown at the roots with matching brown eyes, a smattering of freckles across flushed skin. The taste of alcohol on his mouth, salt on his skin. A drunken giggle, a pleasured moan.

Wesley.

"Well, fuck," I muttered, rubbing my eyes until white spots formed. Many thoughts fluttered in my head, rattling around with a loud clang. I slept with a guy last night. Okay. The idea sat in my head, clear and new, but not out of place. The idea wasn't shocking, but more like a feeling of understanding, since deep down I knew that my attraction didn't run only towards girls. Curiosity sated, I suppose.

The idea - of being attracted to boys -  had been dancing around my brain for a while now, but I had never acted on it, never finding someone to act on it with. The girl that was grinding on my lap at the party was monotonous, and now I could barely even remember her face. I was going to go through the motions, but then he just... stumbled into my lap, all wonky smiles and unfiltered words.

I recalled the first thought that slid into my head when I caught him in my arms as he tripped, brown eyes staring up at me, reflecting my face in their gaze.

Sheets | ✓Where stories live. Discover now