You Were My Favorite Mistake [Gentlemiss & CharlotteV]

Niko ends up with a detention slip and a muttered passive aggressive comment about how he better be glad no one at the school has the time to deal with cops or he'd probably be getting his ass charged with some kind of assault penalty.

He doesn't care.

He tosses his bag of ice in the trash on the way out, picks up his backpack at his locker and shoves his shit in it when he gets a text from Pearce. Two words that make him arch his eyebrow before he's pulling the straps over his shoulders and walking outside.

There, in the school parking lot, is both the sexiest man he's ever seen and the sexiest bike he's ever laid eyes on. And this is really, really, not a good image for his teenage sexual appetite. It's really not.

"Fuck," he mutters, taking the steps two at a time. Pearce hadn't even killed the engine, so he got the idea pretty damn quickly, but he still has to take a moment to just appreciate what he's seeing.

For a moment he's actually a little disappointed he was skipping school and no one else got to see this. Damn. "Uh," he licks his lips a little, nods towards the bike, and feels like a complete and total idiot when he has to say, "I don't actually know how to...get on one of these."

He'd admired them from years, but never actually known anyone who could drive one, much less give him rides. Hell, Niko had barely ridden bicycles before, and this was certainly a step up compared to that.

Motorcycles are amazing. It's a fact. He knew the thing would go fast but it still catches him by surprise when it takes off, and he finds himself wrapping his arms tightly around Pearce's waist. And maybe, just maybe, he presses up a little too close to the man's back but...hell, who cared.

The wind through his hair feels great, and Niko laughs when they take corners, closes his eyes and lets his head drop back. It feels like flying, probably. He loves it. So much he's almost disappointed when they get to the apartment, but the prospect of drugs and food shuts that down.

He follows Pearce inside, drops his backpack by the chair he's claimed as his, and falls into it easily. He's got the bag in his hands the moment Pearce tells him he can pick what he wants, shifts through it until he finds joints and pops one free. He lights up with his own lighter, takes a long hit and sighs happily.

"Man, I don't care," he mutters. "I lost my fucking lunch today, I just wanna eat. I'll take whatever you got."

Niko snorts out a laugh despite himself, throws a glare Pearce's way but it goes unnoticed, which is probably a good thing because there's no real heat behind it anyway. "Shut the fuck up, my ears are not big." Except they are. For a whole year when he was eight everyone at the orphanage knew him as Dumbo. Even some of the staff. It was not one of his finer moments.

The glaringly obvious faux look of concern Pearce gives Niko is met by him curling his fist around the joint in his hand, leaving it sticking up above his fingers in a crude demonstration of flipping him off.

He can't be too mad though, because Pearce is at the stove, and Niko grins before sliding down in his seat enough that he can rest his head back on the edge of it, lazily drag away at the drugs he's been provided. They fall into silence at that, but Niko doesn't even care. It's not awkward...it never is, even though it feels like it should be.

Whatever Pearce is making doesn't take long to finish, and Niko is pulling out the last hits the joint has to offer when there's a plate sat in front of him. His stomach actually flips because fuck, he loves grilled cheese. He sits up with a grin, spinning his attention to glorious food, and despite himself a goddamned moan falls off his lips at the first bite because it's wonderful, okay?

There's a beer being slid his way and Niko swipes it off the counter before he even realizes he's thirsty, popping the top off with practiced ease and taking a swig. It's better quality than he's ever managed to get his hands on, and a quick glance at the label confirms it's not even something he's ever heard of. "God, I'm gunna owe you so much after this," he mumbles, mostly to himself, because this is the best lunch he's had in a really fucking long time. "I give really good blowjobs?" he offers, smirking around his beer before he takes another drink.

Niko pretends that doesn't hurt, which is actually really easy because he's kind of an expert at pretending his feelings don't exist, while he takes another drink. Honestly, though, what was he expecting? Pearce was six-foot-something of strong jawlines and beautiful chocolate eyes and lean muscle and fuck...no way was that single. Still, if there was any doubt left in his mind that Pearce played for his team, it was gone now.

Niko shrugs nonchalantly, going back to his sandwich. He's about to bury himself in cheesy goodness again when he realizes the look Pearce is giving him, and suddenly something occurs to him. "Yeah? Does your boyfriend know about the guy that ran out of here a couple of weeks ago still jerking clothes on?" he smirks like he won something, takes another bite of his sandwich. "I probably give better head than both of them."

He goes back to his food after that, feeling much more smug than he should as he eats. Honestly, he wants to keep pushing his limits...see what Pearce will let him get away with. Because damn, even if Pearce did have a boyfriend, that was something he was willing to take his chances on.

Niko narrows his eyes at Pearce and then there's a fucking hand in his hair and he's leaning back as fast as Pearce is, biting down on his tongue to keep from snapping out something rude to the guy who literally just gave him food. He hates being treated like a kid though. Passionately.

"I don't know you, Pearce," he mutters, catches the slip in his name and shakes his head a little bit. "Sorry, Flynn. I don't have a reason not to believe the shit you say. It's not like you were trying to convince me you were straight or something." Maybe he's being a little bit too defensive but...

He runs a hand through his hair and shrugs, falling back into a stance that's more playful than anything, and finishes off the last few bites of his sandwich. He wants another joint. Fuck, he wants a pill. MDMA or LSD or something stronger even.

He sighs because he knows now that he's officially reached the point where one joint no longer curves his appetite, and that's a little scary. He scratches at his shoulder, down his arm to his wrist, knowing the itch won't go away because it's buried a lot farther than his skin before he takes the last few drinks of his beer.

Pearce never answered his question about how much he'd charge, but Niko pulls his wallet out anyway and counts through what he has. $15.75. He digs out ten and drops it on the table before sliding off his seat. "All I got. Sorry. I'll swing by again when I can actually afford the good stuff."

Niko doesn't remember his weekend. After leaving Pearce's he went to Justin's, nearly ended up collateral damage when the kids asshole of a father started hitting him around, and then they pulled together what they had of their money to buy a bottle of tequila and sleep it off in the park downtown.

Saturday's gone in a blur, and he wakes up Sunday morning with a pounding in his head but fingers trailing through his hair. He blinks his eyes open slowly, looks up to see Thea Shanks smiling down at him. "Do you ever get tired of waking up and not knowing where you are?"

She feeds him, lets him shower, and only looks at him pityingly once when he asks how he got there. She doesn't know, says he showed up sometime around three, fell all over her and said if he wasn't queer she would be perfect for him - they'd fuck all night.

Niko's a little embarrassed about that one, actually.

He goes to school on Monday, serves detention for three days, and when Jacob Eves shoves his head into his locker hard enough his skin cracks open well...he doesn't think twice about swiping fourty bucks out of the assholes locker when he skips gym.

Which is how he ends up at the top of the bleachers, nursing a cigarette between freezing fingers, flipping his phone out and staring at it for a good ten minutes at a time before putting it back down.

He can't explain what went over him the last time he was at Pearce's. It wasn't unusual for him to be a dick, but usually his moods don't swing so bad. He can blame it on hunger, withdraw, whatever. Whatever it took not to admit that maybe, just maybe, he hated the fact that he didn't know Pearce anymore.

Finally, he sends him a text. And an apology. Kind of. A Niko-sized apology.

He doesn't get a reply until Friday.

It makes him a little crazy, actually. Because he was used to Pearce replying almost as soon as he texted. He wonders if maybe he took it too far with his last visit...if maybe Pearce decided to cut him off. But ironically, as Wednesday turns into Thursday, he calms down enough to convince himself Pearce was just busy...

But on Friday as he watches the clock tick by he realizes the money in his pocket is starting to burn a whole, and he definitely can't make it another weekend sober. His eyes swivel across the room, landing on Amy who already has that glassy look in her eyes, and Niko knows someone is dealing to her. Someone he's pretty sure isn't Pearce.

He's walking out of his house that night on the way to their usual haunt when his phone buzzes, and he considers ignore it but the slight chance it might be him eventually brings him to pull it out.

He's switching routes before he even finishes reading the message.

It's odd being in Pearce's apartment without him...the key having been just where he said it would be, light on as Niko drops his backpack against the wall by the door. He toes his shoes off too, but pulls his beanie down farther on his head while he goes for the fridge.

The rooms immaculately clean, futon made up, everything organized and neat. It makes him a little nervous when he reaches for a beer, but he ignores that feeling and pops one open before taking a drink.

He has half the mind to go through shit. See if he can find porn or anything else ridiculous, when he realizes he's in fucking Flynn Nathans apartment and there's much more interesting things to shift through. In the kitchen.

He only opens a few drawers before he realizes he's out of his depth, because while Pearce is precisely organized, Niko doesn't know his order. He has no idea what quality is which, and even though he knows most drugs by sight he doesn't know them all.

So he leaves them untouched, flops himself on the futon and finds the remote. It only takes him five minutes to figure out how to work the tv, and then it's South Park central until he hears a key in the lock.

"Seemed like the best place to sit," Niko answers, watching Pearce walk across his apartment and realizing that the man in dress clothes might actually become a thing. Niko can't even wrap his head around how much the damn suit must cost, but it fits him good. The dark pants seem effortless on him, the button down both looks classy and fits his body well enough to show it off.

Pearce undoes a button and Niko's sitting on the fucking edge of his hypothetical chair wishing he'd undo the rest...maybe push his sleeves up to his elbows...leave it on but...Jesus Christ this was not okay.

He takes another drink of beer to calm his ass down, settle back into whats happening on the tv. Kenny just died, and Niko snorts out a laugh about that. Pearce is back in a second, and Niko arches his eyebrow but holds his hand out to catch the colorful little pill that Pearce drops. Ecstasy. Score.

He pops it in his mouth, followed by another drink of beer before letting his eyes sweep over Pearce's form again. "You look exhausted, man," he mutters, which is probably the only reason why Pearce didn't tell him to get his shit and get out. Which is fine. Niko really has nowhere else better to be.

Niko finds himself smiling slightly when Pearce chuckles, because it's a sound he hasn't heard before and he likes it. But what's surprising is that...Pearce actually talks. Offers up information without Niko really digging for it and that's...nice.

"Man, girls scare the shit out of me," he admits as he leans over enough to take the offered joint. He drags a hit slowly, tilts his head back and puffs out a perfect mushroom of smoke. He smiles at it for a moment and shakes his head a little bit. "They're so complex. I don't have a fucking clue what to do with all of that. Give me a dude anyday."

He takes another slow drag before settling more on his side a little, passing the joint back. "How old are you anyway? Eighteen? Isn't that a bit young to be settling down regardless?" He feels like Pearce shouldn't be that much older than him...wishes he wasn't over that stupid number line that made him jailbait...but he knew better than to hope, because Pearce was too easily accessible during the day which meant he had to be out of highschool.

Niko scoffs a little bit, lets his eyes close for a moment. "I don't date anyone." It was true except for a stint when he was twelve years old with a boy he held hands with for about a week. After that there were a chorus of messy handjobs in the locker room and then big boy stuff when he started hitting the streets. Now he was basically substance abused and falling into bed with whoever just to feel...wanted for a couple of hours. Jesus that was fucked up.

"I never want kids," he decides, and it's not something he's ever said out loud...mostly because no one cares, and honestly there's a fat chance he won't even live long enough to be a father. But it's true. He can't stand the idea. "I already have to take care of too many now. I just want the fuck out for a little while. Live in a world where no one younger than me exists."

He takes the joint back when Pearce hands it to him, thankful that he's already had a beer so he can feel the mellow already. The GED fact is interesting. Niko never pegged Pearce for a drop out...then again, he never figured he'd be selling drugs either. He sighs a little, watches smoke drift towards the ceiling. "I hate school," he mutters, and he doesn't really know why. "Tried to get my GED at the beginning of the year but...I couldn't pass the test. Doesn't matter anyway, I guess. At least school gives me a reason to not be at home."

The offer surprises Niko so much that for a moment he's silent, but after Pearce doesn't take it back...he finds himself smiling slightly, nods a little. "Yeah, I can stop leaving my shoes at the door, no biggie."

Pearce rolls his sleeves up. Pearce rolls his sleeves up and it should be fucking illegal. Then again, it didn't seem like they payed much attention to laws anyway, but christ Niko couldn't handle that. His eyes follow each roll, each new inch of forearm revealed. And it's nothing he hasn't seen before...but goddamn is it sexy.

Blame it on the alcohol.

He focuses on the tv again when Pearce takes the joint back, and he barely feels it when the ecstasy kicks in. Suddenly he's just...really fucking happy. Light, unbothered, like all the troubles in the world just...float off his shoulders. The tv is really fucking bright, all the colors vibrant, and Niko's glad for the alcohol and weed otherwise he'd be a fucking energizer bunny right now. He'd want to dance and run around but instead he's just...relaxed.

Hot though. He reaches up, pulls his beanie off his head, and sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair a couple of times. God it feels good. Pearce passes the joint back to him and Niko doesn't even take it, just wraps his fingers around Pearce's wrist and pulls it close, sealing his lips around the edge and dragging smoke in.

His body's on fire. He can feel the heat from Pearce's skin settling over his fingers, feel the smoke as it curls through his mouth and down into his lungs, feel it pour over his lips when he lets it back out.

He shifts a little, the drag of his clothes on his skin uncomfortable, eyes looking up at Pearce because he was going to ask something but...he forgets...because those chocolate brown eyes are close and god...Niko wants to touch him. Niko wants to touch him so bad he's not even aware of when he moves, reaches his hand up and lets his fingers trail across the mans jawline.

There's a little bit of course stubble that feels amazing, but Pearce's skin is otherwise soft, and he finds himself mesmerized by the way the man feels, but the jump of his pulse when Niko drags his fingers down his neck, lets them splay across his collarbone. Somehow he ends up gripping the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, and Niko's arching up before he even knows what he's really doing. He just wants to be warm.  He just wants to be close. He just really fucking wants to know what Pearce tastes like.

And he realizes, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he would never be this brave sober, and maybe that's what stops him, centimeters away from sealing the deal, before he lets out a low noise that could only be described as wanting. And then he can't anymore. He just can't. So he pulls Pearce closer one more time, seals their mouths together and officially forgets anything else ever existed.

It's too much. It's way too goddamned much. Niko should have known better. Kissing Pearce would be mind blowing on any normal day. Instead he's high on ecstasy and everything's fucking burning and having Pearce's hands on him is going to kill him. His lips are soft, maybe a little dry because they've been smoking, but it's just right. God, is it right. And then there's a tongue dragging over his bottom lip and Niko is unraveling.

He thinks he moans, he can't even be sure at this point, all he really knows is that he gives in. He opens his mouth obediently, hot rush of breath filling the air before there's no space left between them at all. There's a hand on the back of his neck searing into him, dragging him closer, and Niko's ruined. Nothing will ever be this good.

His fist tangles in Pearce's shirt as he lets himself be moved closer, trying to press up into him, but his fucking teeshirt almost hurts his much too sensitive skin when it gets moved, and he could cry because all he fucking wants is Pearce against him.

He only pulls away when he has too, when his lungs hurt because he hasn't taken a breath in too long, and then his forehead is against Pearce's while his fingers work through the buttons on his shirt. Just one or two, just so he can slide his hand against skin. And fuck, does that feel amazing. Pearce is so warm.

Niko wants him so bad he thinks he might pass out...he wants to feel him eveywhere, wants to be warm, wants to know what skin would be like against him. He wants it all. It's too much. It's way too much. And yet not enough all at the same time.

Pearce moves him and it happens so easily that he doesn't even really notice it until he's settled on the mans lap, and then there are hands under his shirt and fucking hell finally. Each swipe of his fingertips leaves a trail, a reminder he won't forget, and his breath hisses between his teeth when his shirts pulled off.

The air in the apartment it warm but it's nothing compared to how Pearce's hands feel on him. The one against his lower back, the one moving across him. And he's just thinking about kissing Pearce again when that fucking mouth starts on his neck and holy shit he can't think. His head falls back on his shoulders, a stuttered curse escaping him.

"Pearce," he doesn't even know what he wants, doesn't even know what he's trying to say. His voice feels oddly dry, his fingers curl into Pearce's chest of their own accord. "Please...god, please..." get this off. Get it all off. Want to feel you. Need to feel you.

Too hot. It's too hot and it's too good and everything fucking feels amazing and he can't. He can't do anything but beg, and he knows nothing he says is making sense, but he's beyond sense at this point.

Pearce taking his clothes off is one of the best things to happen ever, and despite the fact that Pearce's mouth is still on him he has to watch, has to see the way that perfectly pressed shirt gets pulled off his shoulders, tossed away without a care.

He smiles to himself, head tilting back again, fingers sliding up Pearce's bare torso when they're moving. He doesn't see it coming, makes a sound of distress, but he never hits the bed, Pearce lowers him gently, and the futon feels all too welcoming against his shoulders, the curve of his spine.

His legs fall open with little prompting from Pearce and god he's such a slut, but he doesn't even care. He loves being pressed down, loves Pearce's mouth on him again, and when the man moves back Niko arches and tries to follow, a moan pulling out of his throat that follows the drag of teeth on his lip. He wants him back, but the way Pearce basically growls at him makes something warm and pleasurable shoot down his spine, so he drops down again, threads his fingers through Pearce's hair and just fucking holds on.

His eyes fall closed but his mouth drops open, each drag off Pearce's lips across his skin pulling a different sound out of him. Or sometimes no sound at all, no matter how hard he tries, until his back is arching and he's shaking and he says Pearce's name so many times he almost forgets what it means.

At some point it's all off. No more clothes, eve down to socks, and Niko can't remember if he helped or not...can't remember anything but Pearce touching him.

And then there's nothing but heat. Skin sliding against skin in the best fucking way possible, hot and sticky with sweat, and Pearce's mouth on his, or his neck, or his collarbones. Pearce's hips slamming into him or rolling deliciously slow so he arches and moans with it, feels every drag and pull, and he begs. He begs and moans and makes promises he doesn't even remember to keep Pearce from being that slow. He says his name. Over and over and over.

And just when he thinks he might die, just when he thinks he can't possibly take it anymore, it ends in white hot flash that crashes over him like a wave. His hands find Pearce's, holding on tight, body arching up into him as he tries not to fucking scream. It's too powerful and too warm, and by the time he drops back down into the bed he's not sure he'll ever get his breath back.