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therisingkings · 3 months

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I Still Hate You

With Damen out of town, Nikandros is forced to join Laurent at a gala. However, someone slips something into Laurent's drink that leads to Nikandros having to give him some "special" help. Don't worry, they still hate each other.

Read it on Ao3

*****

“Do not panic,” Laurent said, which made Nikandros instantly want to panic. He was leaning too close, his lips right by Nikandros’ ear. “But we need to leave. Right now.”

“What happened?” Nikandros put a critical inch between them.

They were at a gala, a celebration to bring in the new year. Veretain Industries was many things, but at least they knew how to throw a party. Nikandros had been sent on Damen’s behalf, since his friend was busy halfway across the country, cleaning up the mess his half-brother had made at the Akielon Industry.

“I’ll explain later. Just get us out of here.”

“Should I—”

“ Now, idiot.” Laurent was tense, his hands curled into fists at his sides. His glare got Nikandros moving.

Nik said his goodbyes as quickly as possible but didn’t bother to say anything to the host. Henry DeVere was a piece of work. If Nikandros didn’t have to speak to him again for the rest of his life, he’d die a happy man.

Laurent stuck to his side the whole way out, which was odd. Off. When Laurent wasn’t cursing Nikandros, he was actively trying to push his buttons. The only reason Nikandros tolerated him was for Damen. He’d been Damen’s best man at the wedding. He’d promised he’d be there if Laurent needed him too.

So Nikandros gritted his teeth as they waited for their driver. Something was wrong, he knew that much, but Laurent, per usual, was keeping secrets. Maybe it was his uncle. Henry DeVere had made a rather passive aggressive speech at the beginning of the night about the future of Veretain Industries, all without mentioning its heir, who would inherit in less than six months when he turned twenty-one.

Nikandros turned to him. “Is it—”

“Get in the car.” Laurent shoved him towards it as soon as the driver pulled up. He slammed the door behind him and gave a curt order to take them to Nikandros’ apartment.

“Why are we going to my apartment?” Nikandros asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Yours is closer. He can drop you off first.”

“No.” Laurent closed the window to the front seats before leaning back. He undid his tie and the top button of his shirt in short, quick movements to take several deep breaths. After a moment of silence, he said slowly, “Someone, I think, is trying to make a fool of me.”

“Laurent, tell me what happened.” The city passed through the windows in blurs of golden and silver light.

Laurent dropped his head against the rest, then rolled it to press his brow to the window. “T’s so cold.”

“ Laurent!”

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I may have been drugged.”

“ What? We need to call the police.” Nikandros was already reaching for his phone.

Laurent put a hand on his wrist. His skin was hot. “No. Just—Stop. Give me… a moment.”

Nikandros reopened the window and said to the driver, “Take us to the nearest hospital. Now. Go—”

“No! He’s overreacting. The apartment, please.”

The driver’s brows pinched, his eyes flicking in the rearview mirror. “Sir?”

“Who fucking pays you?” Laurent slammed the window back shut.

“Overreacting? Are you fucking nuts? No, don’t answer that.” Nikandros pinched the bridge of his nose. “Something is seriously wrong if you’re saying ‘please.’”

“No press,” Laurent mumbled, and all the strength seemed to seep from him as he leaned back against the window. He closed his eyes. “I know this drug. It’s not fatal.”

“You really know how to reassure someone, don’t you?” Nikandros snapped.

“Your feelings are really the least of my concern right now.”

“Aren’t they always?”

Laurent’s eyes opened to thin slits. “Just shut up. Let me think.”

Nikandros clenched his jaw. “Fine.” He didn’t even care if the little brat died. Well, he did, but only because it would hurt Damen.

The rest of the drive was mercifully silent and short. Laurent’s condition didn’t seem to worsen, so some of Nikandros’ anxiety decreased. They went into his apartment building and in the new lighting, Nikandros could see the slight flush on Laurent’s cheeks.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” Nikandros asked in the elevator.

Laurent’s cool gaze slid over to him. He’d taken off his suit jacket in the car and now clutched it in front of him, hands white-knuckled. “I’m sure.”

The elevator door opened to Nikandros’ penthouse suite. Laurent immediately strode inside, then paused. He looked around. “Do you have cameras in here?”

“Why would I have cameras in my own apartment?”

“Good.” Laurent waited another moment, shifting his weight. Finally, he said, “I have dealt with this particular brand of poison before.”

Nikandros raised a brow. “Okay.”

There was another pause. “It is an aphrodisiac. One of the more powerful ones on the market.”

The blood drained from Nikandros’ face.

Laurent went on, as if now that the words were out, he needed to explain himself. “It’s called hakesh. A Vaskain creation. Old. I recognized the taste in my drink, but it was already too late.”

“Okay…” Nikandros absorbed the information. Had he and Damen messed with it before? No, he didn’t want to know that.

“I suspect… there may be people waiting for me at my apartment.”

Oh. Oh.

“What do you want me to do?”

Laurent held out a hand. “Give me your phone.”

“No,” Nikandros said immediately, pity flooding out of him. The last thing he wanted was those grubby little fingers on his personal data.

Laurent snapped said fingers impatiently. “Mine’s dead. I need to call Damen.”

Nikandros crossed his arms over his chest. “Charge it.”

Laurent turned and took two steps forward until he was in Nikandros’ face. “Would you like to explain to my husband how I was poisoned under your watch, or would you rather me soften the blow? It’s up to you.”

“I hate you,” Nikandros snarled and shoved the phone into his hands.

Laurent strode off in the direction of the bedroom, then slammed the door behind him. How he knew where the bedroom was, having never been there before, Nikandros didn’t care.

He poured himself a healthy glass of whiskey and took a seat at the bar. He’d known Laurent’s uncle was evil, but this was a whole new level. Had Laurent drank more than he did, he could have humiliated himself in front of everyone at the gala. He’d just be seen as overly drunk, unable to control himself.

It was cruel and twisted and stank of Henry DeVere.

The muffled murmur of conversation came from the bedroom. Nikandros took a large draw of his whiskey.

The door opened. Laurent emerged, another two buttons of his shirt undone, and handed the phone to Nikandros. “He wants to speak to you.”

Fuck. Nikandros was a dead man. He took the phone from Laurent. “Hello?”

Laurent retreated back into the bedroom and shut the door softly behind him.

“Nikandros.” Damen’s voice was hard.

Nikandros put his head in his hand. “Damen, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I—”

“Are you drinking?”

He set down the glass guiltily. “Yes.”

“Whiskey?” Damen knew him too well.

“Yeah.”

“Pour yourself some more. Drink it all.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.”

Nikandros did. He finished his glass, then poured another and downed it in a single gulp.

There was a shuffle on the other side of the line. Damen said, “You’re my best friend, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” Nikandros said miserably.

“And you’d do anything for me?”

“Anything.”

“Okay. I need you to fuck Laurent.”

Nikandros almost dropped the phone. “ What?”

“Look, I know it’s—”

“Hold on, hold on. I need another drink before we have this conversation over the damned phone, Damen.”

He put the phone on speaker so he could take the bottle. He debated chugging it, but the last thing he needed right now was alcohol poisoning. He settled for downing another glass.

Damen’s voice came from the speaker. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but we don’t have a lot of options here. I’ve got the earliest flight tomorrow, but I can’t get there any sooner.”

Nikandros set down the glass. He stared at Damen’s profile picture on his phone.

“This drug, it’s got, uh, personal weight to Laurent. It’s not the first time it’s been used against him.” Damen sighed. “It gets very painful, very fast. The only way to ease that pain is with release.”

Nikandros sat back on his stool, head in his hands. “Why can’t he just jerk himself off, then?”

“He’s going to need the normal amount of stimulation, if not more. And he doesn’t like masturbating.”

“I did not need to know that.”

There was another sigh from the phone. “I’m really sorry. Fuck, I knew I should have stayed.”

Nikandros rubbed his face. “This is so wrong.”

“I know. But I…” Fabric rustled. “I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes. He’s your type too.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s your fucking husband, Damen. I would never…”

“I know.”

Silence stretched.

Nikandros tried to collect his thoughts, but they slipped like water through his fingertips. “Alright,” he said after a moment. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Thank god. Okay. Keep me on the phone. That’s the only way Laurent wants it done.”

“You owe me big time, got it, you asshole?” Nikandros stood phone in hand.

“Anything you want.”

Laurent was leaning against the doorframe leading to the bedroom. He tilted his head and went inside.

Nikandros followed. He found Laurent sitting cross legged on the bed, not looking at him.

He put his phone on the pillow and took off his shoes.

“You okay, Laurie?” Damen asked.

“I’m fine.”

Nikandros fidgeted. “I could put it on Facetime if—”

“No.” Laurent shifted backwards until he sat in the middle of the bed. He touched his brow. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”

“Okay. Uh.” Nikandros didn’t know what to do. “Do you want to just bend over or…”

Laurent gave an undignified snort. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Don’t aggravate him, Laurent,” said Damen sternly. “Nik, kiss him. You can start there.”

Nikandros put one knee on the bed, then had to pause and take a breath.

Laurent arched a single brow.

So Nikandros moved forward until he could take the little devil’s face between his hands. He started off small, just a bare brush of lips. Laurent’s mouth was warm, at odds with the cold words that usually came from it.

Nikandros tilted his head. The kiss deepened and that wicked tongue was no less wicked than usual. Laurent instantly took control, one hand threading into the roots of Nikandros’ hair. Nikandros grunted as he was pulled by his head further onto the bed. He had to catch himself on his forearm to prevent from squishing Laurent as they laid down.

Laurent kissed him harder. He kissed a lot like Damen, which wasn’t surprising if Nikandros thought about it. Damen liked kissing. He’d told Nikandros that once, after their wrestling match had dissolved into a make-out session and some very heavy petting. Their youth had been full of instances like that, but that had been all it was: youth. They hadn’t kissed since college, with the exception of a very drunk threesome.

Still, Nikandros felt a tingle of familiarity.

That is, until Laurent pulled back and snapped, “This is fucking boring. What are you waiting for?”

“I…” Nikandros had been, against all reason, enjoying the kiss.

Damen said, “Take off his clothes.”

Nikandros wasn’t sure who the order was for, but they both moved. Laurent sat up faster than Nikandros could sit back, knocking their heads together.

Nikandros blinked, then laughed.

Laurent chuckled too as he undid the remaining buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off.

“What? What happened? Why are you laughing?”

Nikandros dropped his own shirt on the floor. “Nothing, D. Just broke the ice a bit.”

“Oh. That’s… good, I think.”

Nikandros grabbed the waistband of Laurent’s pants and yanked those and his underwear off in one go.

Laurent splayed out on the mattress, completely at ease with his nudity. Nikandros took a moment to appreciate the display. Laurent’s revealed skin was creamy and pale, at odds with the tip of his cock, an almost angry red. It was his nipples that drew Nikandros’ attention: a dusty pink, the same shade as his lips.

Nikandros took a deep breath. “What does he like?”

Damen hummed and there was the clink of a belt buckle. “Hold him down when you kiss him. He likes the weight.”

So Nikandros did, taking control of the kiss himself as he pinned both of Laurent’s wrist beneath his hand. He delved into Laurent’s mouth and found the man more pliant than he’d been moments ago.

He trailed off, down the column of Laurent’s neck. “Can I—” he started to say at the same time Damen said, “Mark him up if you want. It drives him mad.”

Laurent made a noise in the back of his throat as Nikandros nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin until it blushed the color of ripened peaches. He shifted further, releasing Laurent’s hands so he could take a nipple into his mouth. Laurent jerked slightly, almost imperceptible, but Nikandros caught the message: not there.

He returned to Laurent’s lips, which were gleaming in the dim light.

“You’ll have to prep him,” Damen said as they kissed. “Three fingers ‘cause he tenses up fast.”

Nikandros pulled back to study Laurent’s flushed mouth.

Laurent’s eyes fluttered open. “What are you waiting for?”

Nikandros stretched over him to fish through his nightstand. He retrieved a bottle of lube and a condom before sitting back on his heels. He gripped Laurent’s thigh and pushed it open, revealing his puckered entrance.

Squirting some of the lube onto his fingers, Nikandros watched Laurent’s face as he eased one in.

His expression was carefully neutral, save for the blush that had begun to spread over his cheeks, then bled down his neck as Nikandros pumped for a few moments before adding a second finger.

He was tight, like Damen had said, and just the feel of the heat on his fingers had Nikandros’ cock hardening to full mast. He curled his fingers and earned the slightest arch of Laurent’s back.

Laurent’s eyes fluttered shut. “He’s taking too long, Damen.”

“Hush,” Nikandros snapped as he pushed in a third finger.

Laurent made a small noise and turned his head into the pillow.

“He has to take his time, sweetheart. We don’t want you to tear.”

Nikandros rolled his eyes. “He is anything but sweet.”

Damen’s chuckle was deep and hearty.

Laurent shifted his hips, pushing Nikandros’ fingers deeper inside of him.

Nikandros withdrew slightly, slowing his movements. He smirked.

Laurent slung an arm over his eyes. “Can you please just fuck me already?” His voice was higher than it had been a moment ago.

Nikandros considered making him wait longer, but he didn’t want him to be in pain, despite all evidence to the contrary. “Damen?”

“Go ahead. Take him on his back.”

Nikandros removed his slick fingers so he could shed himself of his slacks. He rolled on the condom before kneeling back between Laurent’s legs. He applied more lube, to himself and to Laurent’s twitching entrance.

Laurent was still hiding his face, so Nikandros took the offending arm and pressed it back into the pillows beside the phone, intertwining their fingers. Laurent looked up at him with wide eyes, his plush lips parted slightly. Nikandros thought he looked like an animal caught in a hunter’s trap.

Nikandros guided the tip in.

“He likes it slow and steady,” Damen provided.

“Fuck.” Nikandros didn’t mean to say it out loud as he eased himself inside. “He’s so damn tight, Damen. He’s gonna snap my fucking dick off.”

“Laurent, sweetheart, you’ve got to relax.”

“It hurts, Damen,” Laurent admitted in a small voice that Nikandros had never heard before.

“I know, I know. But Nik is gonna make you feel better.” A pause, then, “Why don’t you kiss him some more?”

Nikandros dropped his head to do just that, but Laurent jerked his chin away.

“Don’t kiss me. I…”

Nikandros took his chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing him to meet his gaze. He’d never seen a man look so vulnerable. “I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to Laurent’s.

And this kiss hurt like a brand, but Nikandros couldn’t pull away. He licked lazily into Laurent’s mouth as his hips began to move in small, fractional thrusts until Laurent relaxed between them.

“Good boy,” said Damen as Laurent moaned into Nikandros’ mouth.

Nikandros pulled out to the tip, then thrust back in slowly, savoring the heat around him.

Damen’s face was still lit up on the screen of Nikandros’ phone. “He likes it when you grind down once you’re all the way in. Don’t be afraid to put your weight into it either.”

Nikandros obeyed and Laurent moaned again and Nikandros had been wrong: he could be sweet. There was no other word for the arch of Laurent’s back, the rush of his breath across Nikandros’ chin. Laurent’s free hand settled hesitantly onto Nikandros’ side, then his nails bit into the flesh there as Nikandros ground himself deeper.

They fell into a rhythm. Laurent’s own hips began to do little circles in time with Nikandros’ thrusts. Damen had fallen silent on the phone, save for the occasional draw of a heavy breath.

Laurent’s nails dug in harder, his face scrunching almost as if he’d tasted something bitter. He began to let out soft little, “ah, ah, ah”s with every movement that stuttered halfway through the sound.

“He’s close,” Damen said, then cursed. “ Fuck. Don’t speed up. Just keep that pace.”

“Yes,” said Nikandros.

Laurent’s back rose off the bed, his heels digging into Nikandros’ backside. Pushing him deeper, harder. Nikandros resisted the urge to pin his knees to his chest and drive him as deep into the mattress as he could. To pound into him until neither of them could form a coherent sentence. He had to keep his head on his shoulders. He had to—

Laurent came hard with a gasp, his legs shaking as he painted his own chest and belly.

Nikandros gritted his teeth and dropped his brow against Laurent’s. He fucked him through the orgasm, slow, balls tightening with every little shift that Laurent made.

Laurent’s breathing was ragged, his legs like vices. He let go of Nikandros’ side to grip the back of his neck and said, “Come in me. Please, Damen, I—”

Nikandros fell face first into senselessness. He unhooked one of Laurent’s knees and forced it up. Leaning back, he snapped his hips brutally into Laurent’s, doubling the pace.

“Ah, fuck, wait. I just came. Wait, I’m—”

“Shut up,” Nikandros growled, leaning his whole weight into Laurent. The edges of his orgasm rushed at him, blinding him, pummeling him. He slammed into the hilt, groaning as his body trembled.

He breathed.

In the aftermath, that was all he could do. Dimly, he was aware of more spend now coating both his and Laurent’s torsos, as if Laurent had come a second time. Laurent’s breaths were like hiccoughs in his ear and for a moment, Nikandros thought he was crying.

He shot up. “Oh my god. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Laurent curled into the hand Nikandros had instinctively placed on his cheek. Revealed, he wasn’t crying, but gasping, catching his breath. His eyes, when they opened, were the color of the spring Nik and Damen had swum in as boys. “I’m okay,” he whispered.

“Fuck.” Nikandros flopped onto his back. He didn’t even have the energy to take the condom off.

He was aware of Laurent rising and retreating to the bathroom. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Nikandros knew he should apologize, but his fractured mind couldn’t figure out what for. He hadn’t meant to lose control like that, even if he’d made Laurent come a second time.

He rolled onto his side and discarded the condom in the bin under his nightstand. Cursing some more, he patted the bed for his phone, then realized Laurent had taken it with him.

“...Of course I will. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Love you too.” Laurent returned from the bathroom and tossed Nikandros’ phone at him. “Damen says ‘thanks.’”

Nikandros blinked, then blinked again as he found himself pushed onto his back. Laurent produced a damp rag and wiped his own come from Nikandros’ chest.

“You don’t have to—”

“Just shut up, please?” Laurent sighed, then threw the rag in the bin. He sat on the edge of the bed, clad in one of Nikandros’ shirts. “Damen also said you have to hold me.”

“I… what?”

Laurent nodded. “It, uh, yeah. And I’m not supposed to go home until he gets back. But I can leave if you don’t—”

“No. No.” Nikandros shifted over, making space. “He’s right. I’m not just gonna let you pack your shit and go like this was a one night stand.”

The last part just slipped out, but Laurent didn’t correct him. He laid down awkwardly on the edge of the bed, all long limbs and sharp elbows.

Nikandros pulled him closer. “Are you okay?” he asked again, the words disturbing the hair at the base of Laurent’s neck.

Laurent nodded, then turned over in his arms. “Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah.” They were practically nose-to-nose.

Laurent set a hesitant hand on his chest. “I wasn’t calling you Damen. I know the difference. I was going to ask him if I could see when he came too.”

“Oh. I hadn’t realized…”

“Really?”

“God, just go to sleep. I just know you’re going to harass me about it.”

A smile curled the edges of Laurent’s lips. “I still hate you, you know?”

“The feeling is mutual.”

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