Title: Your Love is Where I'm Falling
Author: Deejae
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Nick Jonas/Demi Lovato
Author's Note: I know, I know, I'm sorry! It took a really long while, and I'm aware that not all of you really like Nemi, but it's what I came up with spur of the moment in honor of Nick's birthday. I kid you not when I say it was an impulse-story. What I mean is, I was doing homework yesterday and was struck with inspiration for this story. So last night in Word, it took me less than an hour and a half to write seven of the ten complete pages this story is. Anyway, here it is. I'll try to get around to the requests, okay? I've got, like, twenty or so documents with at least some sentences written; I just need to finish them. -___- So yeah, for those of you who don't mind Nemi, please enjoy. :]

+++

Nick has never felt so awkward in all sixteen years of his life – except, no, he’s seventeen now. He remembers when birthdays stopped making him feel different. He was thirteen and everything he expected had already happened; his voice had dropped, he was getting hair under his arms, and his two eyebrows were slowly meeting in the middle.

But no, he’s never felt so uncomfortable being in front of this many people and that’s saying something because, well, he’s Nick Jonas.

When he looks to his left, his mother is standing over him like he’s a six-year-old again. Frankie’s on the opposite end of the table, hiding his laughter behind his hand. The cast and crew of Camp Rock are circled around the cafeteria table, waiting for him to blow out the pink candles. Pink because the cooks couldn’t find any other color. Perfect.

Nick would rather be anywhere but here, to be honest. It should go without saying, but he does appreciate people taking out the time to sing him ‘Happy Birthday’. It’s just that he feels like a kid and on his seventeenth birthday, he’d really prefer to feel anything but like a child.

But then, he looks to his right and feels her presence there. He feels her laughing before she even makes a sound, and for a moment it makes everything okay. She’s got one arm draped over her tummy, her other hand clasped over her mouth. She points at the party hat that his mother made him wear (because, yeah, his mom actually bought party supplies at some small-name Canada party supply store) and she’s laughing. Laughing at him and at how ridiculous he looks.

This, he doesn’t mind. Actually, he laughs with her because that’s how she makes him feel. Like, it’s alright to feel young and like a kid. It’s okay to not be Nick Jonas: all serious, all the time; it’s completely acceptable to be Nick Jonas: still legally a kid.

So he smiles for the camera (a real smile because, for one, his mom tells him to and two, because Demi’s posing with him and he can’t not smile when she’s a breath away from him) and gets up from his chair at the head of the table. Cast members, new and old, give him hugs and tell him happy birthday in all kinds of ways.

The guys are pretty unoriginal with their ‘Yo, Nick, happy birthday, man’ with awkward manhugs that make Nick feel equally as awkward for accepting them. Most of the girls are some of his closest friends (at least, he thinks so; he doesn’t remember having friends-who-are-girls since elementary school and even then, they were chasing him around the schoolyard). They give him sweet hugs, maybe a quick kiss on the cheek, and tousle his hair a little bit.

“Happy birthday,” Chloe, the new girl, says. She articulates the second word as if Nick wouldn’t understand it. He doesn’t really know what to think of her yet because it’s only been a few weeks since they’ve really gotten to know each other and honestly, Nick doesn’t pay attention to her.

“Nick J!” Someone’s yelling at him from across the room and Nick swears his knees give out just a little. “Best friend, happy birthday!”

When did she leave my side?, Nick thinks to himself. His question is answered when Demi walks up to him with a gift behind her back.

“What are you hiding?” he asks, a smile gracing his face. Even in the soft glow of the cabin lamps, she can see the color in her face brighten just that much at his inquiry. “No really,” he says, replying when she shakes her head, “what is it?”

“A surprise,” replies Demi. Her eyes widen a little bit like she’s saying ‘Duh’ and she laughs again; Nick calls it the Demi laugh because, c’mon, nobody laughs like she does. “Let’s go, Nick J, they’re calling us.”

Before he can process what she’s saying, Demi’s fingers are laced between his and she’s – wait, she is holding his hand. Nick has to try and remember how to walk – right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, repeat – and he’s smiling now, while Demi’s leading him out of the cabin and into the one next door.

He doesn’t care where she’s taking him. All he does care about is the fact that she is holding his hand. Nick, for the first time in a long time, finally feels his age and he has Demi to thank for that.

Demi makes him happy. He wishes she could see that. He wishes she understood that maybe, just maybe, he could make her happy, too.

*

It is a dance party. That’s why by the time everyone had given him hugs after the candles were blown out, all the people his age had left the room. Nick didn’t care at first because, well, he thought they were tired and need to get to bed. But no, they were preparing for another surprise party that really did surprise him.

Joe is the DJ for the party (Nick is still shaking his head; why would anyone let that boy touch a turntable?) and Demi hands him a slip of the songs she knows Nick loves. It is like a school dance, except just a little drop below the average awkwardness.

The first song that plays once Nick and Demi walk through the doors is a clip of Nick’s old song “Crazy Kinda Crush on You”, and Nick kind of really wants to punt Joe across the forest.

“Oh,” Joe laughs. “Wrong song.”

Nick shoots daggers towards his older brother, to which Joe replies with a shrug and mouths ‘Happy Birthday, dude’. The younger boy appreciates this and, with an eye roll, shoots Joe a thumbs up. Before the clip switches to the next song, Nick sees Demi from the corner of his eye just dancing to the beat. Her hips move in sync with the beat, fluid and gentle. There isn’t anything raunchy about her movements; she just enjoys the music, laughter erupting at something Roshon is saying.

Nick will ask her about it later.

*

In the two hours that the party has lasted, Nick has danced with every single girl for at least half a minute; everyone, of course, except Demi. By the time Joe has announced the last song (like a true DJ), Nick is ready to punch something because all he cares about is Demi, but she is somewhere else.

When Kevin comes into the cabin twenty minutes before everyone’s curfew, he assures them that he’d clean up their messes as long as they go straight to their respective cabins. Everyone has agreed, many of them yawning, and leave the party. Nick smiles at everyone as they file out of the room, each of them throwing an extra ‘happy birthday!’ over their shoulders.

“Hey,” Nick finally says breaking the silence but for the rustling of large trash bags. “Have you guys seen—”

“Aw,” Joe says, gushing audibly with his hand over his heart. “You can’t even look at us when you ask. You, my young brother, are smitten.”

Seriously, can Nick throw him across the camp already?

“No,” Nick says, the tone in his voice making it clear that he’s trying to convince Joe that no, he’s not smitten.

He’s pretty sure he loves her already. He leaves that part out, though.

“I’m just worried. Whenever I looked for her—” Nick realizes what he said when Joe scoffs, but continues anyway. “—she was either dancing with the girls, or not there at all.”

“Well, I basically just got here,” Kevin offers as an explanation. “And I’m pretty sure Joe was busy messing up the turntable to even notice Demi leaving.”

“Oh.” Nick doesn’t even try to hide the disappointment in his voice. Instead, he heaves a sigh and raises his shoulders, letting them fall when he releases a big breath.
“Hey, bro,” Kevin says, looking at his younger brother with concerned eyes. There’s something else in his eyes, but Nick ignores it. “Why don’t you head back to your bunk? Joe and I have got it here.”

Kevin makes a ‘psst’ noise when Joe begins to counter, making the middle brother reply with a forced, “Oh. Yeah. Go sleep, Mr. Seventeen.”

Nick smiles.

“Thanks, guys.” Yawning with arms stretched over his head, Nick finally realizes how tired he is.

Maybe tomorrow he’ll be able to ask Demi where the hell she’s been all night.

*

Nick doesn’t have to wait until tomorrow to ask Demi where she’s been because he sees her sitting on the dock, her feet wading in the water. He walks through the clearing that leads to her and even if he’s far away, he can see the moonlight reflecting in the water and bouncing back, making her eyes shine a different color. He can see a small box on her side, but he can’t make out what it is, yet.

When his shoes hit the dock with a soft thump!, he grimaces. While he didn’t want to startle her, he hadn’t meant to make so much noise. In reaction to the noise, Demi looks over her shoulder and smiles.

“Hey! I was wondering when you would figure out I was out here.”

“I was wondering where you were all night.” Nick desperately wants to stick his foot in his mouth. Why would he admit that?

“Good.”

“Good?” he asks, taking off his shoes before he sits down next to her.

“Yeah. Because at least I matter enough to make you worry.”

He laughs, an uneasy laugh that makes it evident that he doesn’t know how to react to what she’s saying. But no, she makes him feel better by nudging him with her shoulder. He is reminded of the day before when they played an impromptu six-minute concert for the fans waiting outside of the conservation (How ironic is it that it lasted six minutes?, he wonders)

“Marissa texted me this morning. She saw the video of us playing on top of the SUV yesterday.” Demi starts to laugh, as if what they did was so absurd that it can only be laughed at.

“You have a beautiful voice.” Nick can’t think of anything else to say but that. He wishes he wasn’t being so forward – though, he’s not even sure of what the word ‘forward’ means in this context. For a second, he wants to take it back. But no, he means it. Her voice is angelic, and gorgeous, and every other adjective like those two.

“Thank you,” she smiles. Nick swears that he can see tears on her eyelids. “Oh! I have something for you.”

She clicks her tongue as she twists around, looking for the small box that Nick’s already picked up. When she sees it sitting in his grasp, she doesn’t even smack him for taking it from her before she told him to. She tells him, “Open it, c’mon!”, like it’s his fault that he hasn’t opened it yet.

He does as he’s told, carefully taking the tape from the open parts of the package. Demi heaves a sigh at how slow he’s going and he has to laugh. With more urgency, she tells him to hurry and open the damn thing and when he does, his mouth falls open in awe.

“It’s a guitar strap,” he says simply, taking the leather from the box. It’s dark brown with designs engraved in it (Demi tells him, “Yeah, they’re swirls. But they’re manly, I swear.”) and it feels slightly weightless in his hands. It’s beautiful.

“Demi, it’s amazing.”

“I know you have the one with your guys’ emblems in it from Hollywood Records, but I figured you could use a simple one that doesn’t make you come off as arrogant,” she tells him, smiling. “I had it made for you when I was on a stop during tour.”

That’s where Nick breaks. It’s not about his birthday anymore, nor is it about the amazing gift that’s in his hands. It’s just him and Demi and he’s got to tell her. He’s got to tell her how much he missed her and wanted her around instead of Jordin Sparks (he loves her, but she’s not Demi Lovato); he has to tell her about how he was writing a song one night and she was the first one he wanted to tell, but she was playing a show and he didn’t want to bug her; he wants to tell her—

Nick’s staring. He’s staring at her like his head and his eyes can’t move and to be honest, Demi’s kind of scared. She thinks he was lying. Maybe it isn’t amazing like he said it is; maybe he’s stuck on figuring out another lie to cover up how much he hates it.

Without his eyes moving from her face, he folds the strap and puts it back into the box (though he doesn’t know if the strap even made it into the box; he’s not paying attention to it). Demi’s saying his name, worried, and he just wants her to keep saying his name. He wants her to want what he wants.

Before he can think about what he’s doing, he’s taking his feet out of the water and kneeling less than a foot from Demi, towering over her. His hands rest on the curves that cradle her shoulders and head, and his thumbs are making circles into her cheeks. He leans down just a little bit, the gap between their lips closing.

He’s kissing her. Really, really kissing her. And he can’t stop.

The kiss starts out slow, the shock on Demi’s face wearing away only to be replaced by pleasure. Her lips start to move, too, and Nick’s skin feels like it’s on fire. Demi’s slowly leading her feet out of the water and, without parting from Nick, she’s kneeling, too.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding across her top lip and then.Demi’s making these cute little moaning noises when it happens. Nick’s sure he’s died. Nick’s sure he’s in Heaven right now.

He’s got one hand still on her face, his fingers caught in her soft hair. His other hand fell to her hip, sometime between her second and third moan, and he’s grasping her there. Nick feels a little ridiculous, but he wishes those jeans weren’t in his way.

It feels like hours rather than minutes before they pull apart to breathe. Nick inhales once and already, he’s ready for round two.

“Wait,” Demi laughs, still a little shocked and out of breath. “I don’t think we should do this here.”

“Then where?” Nick inquires, half-lidded and a bit more eager than he meant to sound.

“I don’t know!” Demi shouts, yet whispers at the same time, chuckling. “Your cabin? Dallas is in mine.”

“I think Kevin and Joe are still cleaning after the dance party, so yeah, I think that’ll work.”

Demi smiles.

“I’ll meet you there in ten minutes. Just, let me change.”

He wants to tell her no, it’s fine. It’s okay that she smells like she’s been dancing for two hours because, well, she has been. As weird as it might sound, he likes the way her body smells right now. But she’s already walking away (she kisses him quick, first) and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

With his inhibitions drowning in the lake, he runs to his cabin like it’s on fire.

*

By the eleventh minute of waiting, Nick’s already worried that Demi’s been eaten by raccoons. When he picks up his phone to call someone for help, Demi’s already at the door, knocking. He opens the door quickly, smiling at her attire. Tight black shorts, some white band shirt, and a plaid button-up hanging on her petite frame.

“Hey,” he greets, leaning against the door. Just as smooth as his greeting, the door gives way to his weight and opens wider, sending him backwards. He clears his throat, snaking a hand through his hair and silently invites her in.

“Hello to you, too,” she says, her hands clasped behind her back as she saunters in. “You look good.”

He has to look down at his outfit to understand what she’s saying, but even when he does, he’s not sure what she means. All he’s wearing is pajama pants and a plain white v-neck. Typical.

“You don’t need an explanation,” she replies to the expression on his face. She steps closer to him, closing the door before she gets too far from it, and stands on her tiptoes. “You look good in anything.”

When he hiccups, she laughs at him. Pushing him backwards, she waits until he falls back onto the bed before straddling him. Taking control of the situation, she kisses his temple, his forehead, his nose, avoiding his lips at all costs.

“You smell like my favorite cologne.” Ignoring his lips, she makes a trail down his jaw to his neck and she sucks on his pulse point. Eliciting a moan from him, she smiles against his skin and sucks on the exposed part of his collarbones. His hips jerk and now Demi’s the one who doesn’t know what to do.

“’Ey, Dem,” Nick says, his voice just a little pathetic. His hands are on her hips, now, and his fingers press into her back when she doesn’t stop licking him. “H-Hey. What are we doing here?”

Demi retracts her tongue and kisses his shoulder, straightening herself. Her eyes, Nick notices, are a shade darker and look dilated. She smiles at him, and for the first time, he can’t read the expression on her face.

“I love you.”

Nick’s pretty sure he’s lost it. He’s either a paranoid schizophrenic having delusions-slash-hallucinations, or he really did die and this is his version of Heaven.

“I love you,” Demi repeats, drawing a heart on Nick’s chest. No, he was wrong; he can’t be dead… yet. This girl is killing him.

“What—”

“I missed you so much on tour, Nick. I thought it was just the familiarity of you guys that I missed; I thought it was the fact that I didn’t have my best friends on tour anymore, but it wasn’t. I would talk to Joe and Kevin on the phone after a show and it would be cool. My brothers are supportive and love me. But I’d talk to you and I would physically hurt.”

She’s not straddling him anymore. She crawled off of him and is now sitting near his pillow, her legs folded beneath her. Her face is in her palms, and Nick can’t stand seeing her like that. He leans up on one elbow and uses his free hand to lift her chin.

“Stop, stop.” A tear falls from his lashes and Nick gets it, he knows what she means when she says that she physically hurts. He sits up on the bed and cradles her face in his hands. “I love you, Angel. I just didn’t know how to tell you without you thinking I was stupid; I didn’t know what you’d say.”

Finally, Demi laughs.

“God, this is so cliché,” she says, feigning a frown when she sees Nick’s smile fall. “That’s not what I mean. We were both willing to lie to each other instead of saying how we really feel.”

“Fine,” Nick acquiesces, “It is like a cliché when you say it like that.”

He takes her hand in his, tracing shapes into her skin with his thumb. After silence envelopes them, Demi suggests they stop this.

“What do you mean?” Nick asks, failing at hiding his smile.

“Kiss me, quick.”

Nick grins, then, and he leans forward to press his lips to hers. His arms circle her waist as he lays on her, pressing his weight into her. She’s never felt so safe, having him there above her. She returns the kiss, both of them fighting for dominance.

That’s when Nick realizes what’s so different about her. It’s not about him being the ‘man’ in the relationship. It’s not about finding a girl who can keep up with him. He’s found a match in Demi; she’s just as talented, if not more, and she isn’t afraid to say what she wants. (She’s more beautiful than any other girl he knows or has known, too).

Readjusting them, Nick kneels on the bed and lets Demi wrap her legs around his waist. He leans on his hands, his palms splayed out on the bed on each side of her. Nick can’t even process what’s happening when Demi’s hands are pressing into his hips looking for the bottom of his shirt. She pulls it over his head, tossing it to the corner of the bed.

Nick really hates that they’re on a twin bed. It’s not that he wants to experiment or anything like that (yet), but he feels so restricted to pinning her to the bed and he doesn’t want to hurt her.

“Move.”

Or, he doesn’t want her to hurt him.

“Okay.” He kneels up and watches in awe as she carelessly removes her shirt, her bra just there. And Nick can see it. And he’s almost hyperventilating. She smirks at him (like a signature Nick Jonas smirk) and he can’t believe that this is happening.

Everything’s happening so fast and it’s like… like hell he’s going to pass making love to the girl he’s really in love with. But he’s so inexperienced. And the way she’s acting, it’s like she’s expecting him to just know how things work. He’s touched Miley before and – his thoughts stop. Why is he bringing Miley into this? Demi is almost naked and he’s thinking about how he fucked up with Miley. He didn’t even get to second base with that girl; it’s not his fault she just took off her shirt in front of him.

Anyway.

“Nick?” Demi’s voice seems so distant, but it’s soft and reassuring. “You can touch me. I mean, if you want.”

And he wants to. He’s wanted to for a long time.

“I don’t know how, though.” He wishes it wasn’t like this. He wishes it wasn’t such a cliché, the inexperienced son of a retired pastor doesn’t have a fucking clue how to take off a girl’s bra, or even touch her in the right way. How’s he going to—

“It’s alright,” she says, one of her hands snaking down her body to reach his hand. She offers a small smile when she feels that he’s shaking. “You’re doing fine; stop overanalyzing this. I’m no expert at this, and I don’t expect you to be.”

His head is reeling. It’s like she can read his mind and she gets him before he even makes a move.

“Show me what to do,” he tells her, his voice seeming to drop an octave.

She nods her head and wraps her arms around his shoulders, calming him. She presses her lips to his pulse, her tongue darting out to lick at the skin there. She can feel the beat of his pulse and there, right there, she sucks on the skin and he starts to writhe. Like magic, he’s just under her spell.

Demi arches her back slightly, her hands leaving him, and she unclasps her bra. She’s scared, too, but at least she isn’t showing it. She takes the straps and forces them off of her shoulders. Before Nick can blink, the cups are off of her skin and he can see her, all of her top half, and he swallows.
He doesn’t know what to do because, it’s not like this is supposed to be kinky or anything. He’s not just some hormone-enraged teenager (even though, technically, he is), but he’s here in bed with the girl that he’s loved for two years and she’s just giving herself to him.

She throws her bra to the foot of the bed and it lands on top of the shirt. Nick wants to say something witty, but really, he doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he ducks his head down and kisses her breastbone. He looks up at her eyes and when he sees that they’re closed, he makes a trail of wet kisses along her collarbone and takes his lips down to her chest and he doesn’t overthink it; he just does it.

His lips circle the tight peak of her breast and his tongue just laps at it like it’s the best thing in the world. Demi crumbles underneath him, releasing a sound so animalistic that Nick’s ears twitch. He moves his focus to her other side, one of his hands cradling the abandoned peak. He kneads it, pressing softly and when Demi starts to moan really loud, he’s smirking.

Hey, he thinks, maybe I’m good at this.

But before he can become too confident in himself, Demi’s tapping him on the shoulder. She’s biting her lip, her brown hair (he’s wondering why they dyed it back) making a halo around her head as she presses more into the pillow.

“You’re o-overdressed,” she stutters. She takes the hem of his shirt between her fingers and pulls, forcing him out of the cloth. He laughs at her urgency to which she replies, “Finally.”

And just like that, Nick’s shirtless in front of her. God, he’s never felt so self-conscious in his life.

“I love your little tummy,” she says, patting the small patch of chubbiness above the elastic of his pants. He wants to retort, but her eyes are kind of, like, burning holes into his skin and the way she’s looking at him – he just wants to kiss her into tomorrow. And the next day. And next year. And—

Nick cradles her waist with his arm, picking her up and bringing her under the covers. She ogles at how strong he’s gotten and she can’t help but stroke the indentation of his biceps. He bites his lip when he sees the look in her eyes, wanting nothing but to spend forever looking into them.

When they are finally under the covers, Nick keeps kissing her with a fierce passion and it’s like every cell in his body is just screaming Demi’s name, and how could he deny his body this beautiful girl?

His tongue makes a path from her pulse point to the small hollow depression of her throat and Nick just listens to her pant. And then she begs, “Nick. Nick, please, I want you.”

Nick doesn’t think he can be any harder than in this moment because yeah, he wants her, too.

“I-I don’t have a c—”

“It’s in my back pocket,” she interrupts his thought, arching her hips into his. Nick groans at the contact and when Demi feels just how badly he wants her, she whimpers. Nick’s hand snakes to her back and falls to her ass, going into her pocket and grabbing the same square of foil. Before he retracts his hand, he gives her ass a little squeeze to which she squeals, “Stop!”

They laugh, both of them appreciating the fact that this isn’t awkward at all. It’s more like they’ve been planning this all along and have been prepared for it. Even if it’s not the case, it’s a good feeling.

“We’re really doing this, then,” Nick says, more of a statement than an inquiry. He kisses Demi deeply when she nods, quickly jerking away from her when her hands start to push his pants and boxers down. He finishes what she started and his jaw goes slack when her small hands wrap around him.

She holds him in her palm, feeling the size instead of seeing it and it’s like her senses are waking up. The silkiness of his skin there makes her fingers tingle, and Nick could come right there. And oh, my God, they’re really doing this?

They are.

Using his teeth, Nick rips open the package with his other hand still holding Demi’s hip in place. She pushes her shorts down her legs, air hitting her exposed skin and she apologize to Nick when her knee softly nudges his erection. She has to giggle at his reaction, though.

He rolls the protection onto himself, biting his lip in concentration. He waits until it’s on completely before looking Demi straight in the eye. He asks if she’s ready, if she’s okay, and assures her that this is what he wants, too.

He spreads his fingers out on the bed, leaning on his palms on either side of Demi’s head. She has to take him in her hands again, and Nick doesn’t mind her touching him like that. He presses his hips forward, letting her lead him where she wants him and she nods her head, wanting him to just do it.

He presses more, the tip of him entering her, and she inhales sharply. She shakes her head, telling him to just wait, just wait. She exhales, adjusting to him, and tells Nick it’s okay to keep going. So, he does.

He pushes forward more, her body slowly accepting more of his length and she has to just breathe; that’s what he tells her, “Just breathe.” His arms are shaking as he supports his weight on them, and he can’t really think of anything else. For him, it’s about making Demi feel good; it’s about her pleasure and her reactions.

When he’s buried to the hilt, he waits there, their chests meeting and their hearts beating together, quickly. When she tells him to move, finally, he does. He pulls out and thrusts back in, the feeling overwhelming for him. So much so that he growls her name. He does it again, letting his body adjust to this feeling

The pain subsides and Demi starts to feel the pressure of him against her, the length of him gliding in and out and she can’t think, either. Her idle hands graze his chest, her nails scraping against the skin there, and then his fingers cup his face. She kisses him, a fire in her ignited as he moves. She whimpers against his lips, her mouth growing slack with each thrust into her.

Her hands rake through his hair, ringlets wrapping around her dainty fingers. She pulls his hair and Nick can’t, God he can’t think. It’s just so much of him is alive that he can’t react. But he feels so bad because he’s so close, and he’s not sure he can bring Demi there in time; he’s just so close.

“Demi, I can’t—”

“It’s okay, Nick. Just, mmm, just let go,” she moans, writhing against the bed. She leans forward, gyrating her hips in the opposite direction of Nick’s, and her tongue takes his bottom lip into his mouth. His lip begins to swell, the sensation of her tongue making his head spin.

Nick makes waves with his body, retracting his hips before forcing them back towards her, making Demi squeal. She grasps his biceps in her hands, her nails digging into his skin, and neither of them know what to do with themselves. Nick feels bad (really, really guilty, actually) because he feels like he’s going to come undone anytime soon.

But then he remembers something he heard (because he totally shares stories with his brothers; awkward) and with one of his hands splayed out over her hipbone, he takes his thumb and presses it down to the nub between her legs.

“Oh, my God!” Demi groans, her hands flying to her mouth as she bites down on her fist. With her own slick wetness, he rotates his thumb quickly, her clit hard and alert as he does it. Unable to think straight, Demi just closes her palms over Nick’s cheeks and pulls her face towards his.

“Nick, faster, please,” she begs, her legs opening wider. He obliges to her wish, his hips making a slapping noise as they hit hers. The slickness between them as he goes in and out makes a slippery noise and it just makes Nick want to do more, just please her more. His thrusts become slightly erratic and his breathing is labored when he says her name, but he keeps going.

His thumb keeps making circles, and Demi’s still shrieking Nick’s name and to be honest, Nick doesn’t give a damn if someone wakes up. It’s not like anyone’s going to be awkward and ask what the ruckus was. But then, that familiar feeling of release is building up in his toes and his tummy.

Then Demi says, “Harder, Nick. Just, ohh, just give it to me, please,” she whimpers pathetically. Nick’s a little proud of himself, for making Demi unravel like this. So he thrusts harder, his pace quickening, and ducks his head towards her breast and sucks some more.

Demi’s nerves are on fire as he moves, her chest heaving as Nick sucks there, her hips moving rapidly, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and her hands buried in his hair. She feels the eruption coming up from her toes and she knows she’s close.

“Demi, I-I love you. You know that,” Nick says, his words coming out in a slur, punctuated by thrusts. “But shit, I’m so close and I’m sorry if you aren’t.”

Demi laughs.

“Of course I’m close, you moron,” she says, a grin spread across her face. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. God, you’re phenomenal.”

Nick doesn’t think Demi’s been more beautiful than right here in this moment. Her eyes are shut tight, her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, and she’s writhing against his body like all she wants is moremoremore. And Nick can’t get enough of her. Not now, not ever, he thinks.

His hips slow down a little bit as he reaches the brink, and with a flick of his thumb, Demi’s there with him, too. He laps at her neck, feeling her muscles contract around him and just one more push forward and Demi’s pressing against him like it’s nobody’s business.

She lets out a yelp so high-pitched, Nick is amazed he even heard it. She mutters something along the lines of “Yesyesyesyes, oh, my God, so amazing” with a few expletives thrown in for good measure. The feeling of her seizing against his body makes Nick reach his release, too, and he’s coming undone above her.

He lets out a groan, her name falling from his lips like a song, and collapses against her body. His breath is hot against her skin and Demi can’t help but laugh. She laughs at how spent he is, and she laughs at the look on his face when he looks up at her, all dazed and confused and completely drunk off of her.

Nick inhales, the scent of sweat and perfume mixing together perfectly. Carefully maneuvering himself around the twin-sized bed, he gathers the blanket and drapes it over them. As their breathing slows, Nick has to smile as his fingers dance over the curve of Demi’s shoulders.

He hums a recognizable tune, making Demi turn to him with eyes shining with the light from the moon. Nick stops humming and starts singing the lyrics instead.

“But you’re so hypnotizing, you’ve got me laughing while I sing…”

He invites Demi to finish for him, which she does, “You’ve got me smiling in my sleep.”

Both Demi and Nick wonder when they’ll be able to do this again. It’s not like they could just live without this. They couldn’t possibly be in the same vicinity of each other, unable to touch. Nick smiles, holding her close.

“Well, it’s not like we have schoolwork like last year. We’ve got time. We’ll make time,” he says. And Demi believes him.

Before she can fall asleep, Demi’s standing up and putting her clothes on. She drapes the plaid over her shoulders, making herself approachable.

“No, just stay here,” Nick demands, trying to sound pleading. “We’ll figure out an explanation tomorrow. Just sleep.”

“Nick, you know that I can’t.”

“Like hell you can’t.”

She stares at him, mesmerized by the dark pools of brown that make up his eyes. His hair is messy and all over the place, just how she likes it; without product. She wonders how she can deny that face before realizing, oh right, she can’t.

“Fine. But put some clothes on before your brothers come in here wondering why you’re lying in bed naked next to me.”

Nick rolls his eyes, even if she’s right, and throws on boxers. He raises his eyebrows at her, as if asking, ‘Happy?’, and she is. Completely content when she crawls back into bed, safe in Nick’s arms.

“Happy Birthday, Nick. I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby,” he replies, kissing her temple.

Tomorrow, they’ll probably make love again. And again. But now, they sleep for the longest and most peaceful sleep in a while.