He doesn’t tell Nate he’s coming, and one thing he’s learned about Nate is that he’s never in his apartment. He’s sharing it with a biomedical engineer that Brad finds both asocial and hilarious and for whatever reason they’re both allergic to the place. If Nate isn’t in the library, than he’s at a coffee shop, if he’s not at a coffee shop, then he’s TAing, if he’s not at any of those places it’s office hours—either a professor’s or his own for the snotnose undergrads he has to deal with.
But Brad’s always had an unerring compass when it comes to Nate, so when his taxi drops him off at Nate’s apartment he knows he’s not going to find Nate in any of those places. He lets himself in with the key that the asocial biomedical engineer keeps above the sill on the doorway, deposits his stuff in Nate’s bedroom which looks like a showroom at the furniture store, and walks right back out again.
He finds Nate at the blacktop basketball courts three blocks away, playing half-court with a couple of guys. It’s cold enough that their breath shows on the air, but they've all worked up a sweat. Nate's longish hair falls into his eyes, but he pushes it roughly away before accepting a pass. A player on Nate’s team sets a screen and Nate goes in for a layup that sinks through the hoop perfectly. His team whoops in exultation, and Nate turns around, tugging his sweat-damp shirt away from his chest and says, “How long have you been standing there?”
All the other guys turn to face Brad and he grins back, digging his hands into his pockets. “Not long. Buy you a cup of coffee?”
Nate shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “That’s my cue, gentleman.” He pats a few backs and jogs off the courts while the other players groan at the sudden unevenness of the teams.
“You think you’re a sneaky bastard showing up here without telling me,” Nate says, giving him a kiss when they’re out of sight under the shade of a tree rapidly changing colors. Brad takes a moment to pull him in and palm Nate’s perfect ass, something he’s been thinking about for months now.
“Pretty much,” he says. It comes out as a low rumble, like his voice has gotten lost somewhere coming out of his throat.
Nate nuzzles his neck, just at his jawline. “But you’re not, because you showed me how to hack into your credit card statements.” His tongue comes out flicker quick, sliding across Brad’s pulse, before he pulls away altogether. “I saw you bought the tickets weeks ago.”
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Date: 2009-10-17 09:28 am (UTC)But Brad’s always had an unerring compass when it comes to Nate, so when his taxi drops him off at Nate’s apartment he knows he’s not going to find Nate in any of those places. He lets himself in with the key that the asocial biomedical engineer keeps above the sill on the doorway, deposits his stuff in Nate’s bedroom which looks like a showroom at the furniture store, and walks right back out again.
He finds Nate at the blacktop basketball courts three blocks away, playing half-court with a couple of guys. It’s cold enough that their breath shows on the air, but they've all worked up a sweat. Nate's longish hair falls into his eyes, but he pushes it roughly away before accepting a pass. A player on Nate’s team sets a screen and Nate goes in for a layup that sinks through the hoop perfectly. His team whoops in exultation, and Nate turns around, tugging his sweat-damp shirt away from his chest and says, “How long have you been standing there?”
All the other guys turn to face Brad and he grins back, digging his hands into his pockets. “Not long. Buy you a cup of coffee?”
Nate shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “That’s my cue, gentleman.” He pats a few backs and jogs off the courts while the other players groan at the sudden unevenness of the teams.
“You think you’re a sneaky bastard showing up here without telling me,” Nate says, giving him a kiss when they’re out of sight under the shade of a tree rapidly changing colors. Brad takes a moment to pull him in and palm Nate’s perfect ass, something he’s been thinking about for months now.
“Pretty much,” he says. It comes out as a low rumble, like his voice has gotten lost somewhere coming out of his throat.
Nate nuzzles his neck, just at his jawline. “But you’re not, because you showed me how to hack into your credit card statements.” His tongue comes out flicker quick, sliding across Brad’s pulse, before he pulls away altogether. “I saw you bought the tickets weeks ago.”