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Pearce Nathans

0 · 2,654 views · located in New York City

a character in “You Were My Favorite Mistake”, as played by Gentlemiss

Description

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Name
Pearce Flynn Nathans

Nicknames
Family and close friends know him as Pearce, customers know him as Flynn.

Gender
Male

Age
January 3rd, 1996
Eighteen, approaching nineteen quickly.


Nationality
French-American

Sexuality
Homosexual

Occupation
Trust Fund Baby and Drug Dealer

Role
Couple Three || Dealer

"I found this tune that makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat, 'til I fall asleep."

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Personality
{ Spoiled | Possessive | Private | Spontaneous | Funny }
Pearce is a trust fund baby. He isn't good for much more than spending money and bullshitting his way out of things. His other strong suit is sarcasm, you can count on his words usually dripping with it. Extremely self-centered and egotistical, Pearce cares little for the feelings or privacy of others, finding himself to be privileged to these things no matter the person. Money is his way around everything. Before he even meets you he can know everything about you, and if he thinks you might be risky, he'll find something he can hold against you as leverage. This is perhaps his greatest talent, his sneaky, underhanded way of going about life. Automatically assuming that everyone is playing for another team and they're out to get him, he is very private with his own affairs and does not even let those closest to him in. It's less paranoia and more a strong desire to protect himself and what is his.

This makes Pearce extremely possessive. Once something is his, it's his. He will protect it with the same level of cautiousness he does his own privacy. He can be obsessive, depending on the subject. As a child who has never not gotten something he wanted, when he is denied anything he can become extremely temperamental and near unstable. It isn't safe to deny him anything, because in the end if he wants something, he gets it- one way or another. Because of the fact that he was spoiled and given all that he wanted, Pearce has a habit of "forgetting". He forgets that not everyone can go out to eat at the most expensive restaurant every weekend, forgets that some people have to struggle to pay bills, that normal people have to get jobs and have other things to worry about. It can make him come off as uncaring or arrogant, whereas he simply doesn't realize normal people have normal problems.

Pearce is also foolishly spontaneous with his money. Not only with himself, but with others as well. Of course his two-person flat is equipped with only the latest of everything, but if he decides he likes you then it's quite likely that you aren't wanting for much of anything either, because Pearce just likes to throw his money around everywhere. He once took a girl to Paris just because she said she wanted to see the Eiffel tower, that and he wanted to show off his amazing skills at speaking French.

Appearance
6'4" and slimly built due to playing soccer and not football in high school. Though anyone that would try and fight him would learn quickly that even rich-boys can learn how to fight. That and due to the majority of him being muscle, even if it doesn't show extremely, punching him is akin to punching a brick wall. He has a piano tattooed on his arm (x) and a burning bible on the other (x).

"Now it's three in the morning and I'm trying to change your mind."

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Background
Pearce grew up a very spoiled kid. He's an only child, his mom was a doctor, and his dad was a lawyer. That doesn't mean they weren't around, on the contrary they were with Pearce constantly throughout his childhood. They went on vacations every summer break, were in different countries every Christmas, he got everything he could have ever wanted and more. He attended the most prestigious private academy in the area they lived in, and he was a model student up until the end of middle school. He never showed any particular talents, other than being a very good speaker, but his parents weren't worried. He was the son of a rich doctor and richer lawyer, he would go on to be something just as great. And he would definitely stop playing soccer after high school. They got one thing right.

Eighth grade is when he met Niko. They were almost nine-weeks into the school year when Pearce slipped up, getting caught in a lie about some homework he hadn't done. His punishment was simple, go to the art room ninth period every day and help clean up. Imagine his surprise when one day, while the teacher was out of the room and he was left cleaning paint out of cups, he felt some younger kid touching his ass? Wait, no, he was trying to take his wallet! As it turned out, this kid didn't even go to their school, he was only there one period a day for this art scholarship he got. In the end Pearce gave him some money, and even though the younger boy cursed at him the entire time, he took it. After that they sort of became fast friends, even after Pearce was out of trouble, he would walk by the door everyday at the end of ninth period so he could run into Niko. Until eventually he just didn't see him anymore.

High school is when he started falling in with the bad crowd. He hit a rebellious stage, didn't want to take his parents money anymore, wanted to make something himself. Originally, he wasn't even taking the drugs he was dealing, he was cut-off from that part of things and was only a middle-man. Then, one day, with no real reason behind it, he thought "why not?". By this time, he was almost a senior now, Flynn Nathans had become the guy to buy your shit from. No one else even existed on the map anymore, Flynn had taken over the business. He dropped out of school the middle of senior year, got his GED and a nice bike, and moved out of his parents house. They still support him financially, but now he has a sick studio apartment, equipped with everything he could ever want.

Then he got a call from that kid he hadn't seen in nearly four years, inquiring about some stuff. They fell into a relationship that could only be compared to a tornado. They were swept up in each other. The little middle schooler he had known so long ago had turned into this not-even-legal teen, all rough edges and smooth, porcelain skin that Pearce became obsessed with. And then he got possessive. He didn't want anyone else touching what was his, and Niko had become his. He could get rough sometimes, never forcing Niko into anything but he left marks, black and blue reminders all up his neck that he was claimed property. Niko left, and for two weeks Pearce was a mess, until finally he came back. Without Niko, Pearce is a lot like a druggie without his fix, unable to get that itch until he's in him again. Niko tries to cut him off, but his record isn't great when it comes to staying gone.

So begins...

Pearce Nathans's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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“Sir...”

How exactly did Mr. Reynolds always manage to sound that disappointed with just one word? Niko sighed, reaching his hands up to grab at the edges of his faded blue beanie and pull it down over his eyes, as if that would somehow block out the world around him.

“I'm kind of busy right now, Reynolds, is it important?”

Niko snorted to himself, folded his arms and rested them on top of his head. “Well, sir,” he whispered, mockingly, because he was alone in the waiting room. “It's Nikolas again. He's gotten into a bit of trouble, sir. And I just thought you should know, sir-” Actually, his speech was nearly spot on with Mr. Reynolds words.

Behind the closed door that read Principal's Office there was a sound that was almost surely folders smacking down against the man's desk. “What did he do this time?” Mr. Sikes asked, and damn did he sound tired, reserved...Niko loved how it was automatically his fault. He didn't even get benefit of doubt anymore. Not that he deserved it most of the time, but that was besides the point.

“Well...” Pause. Niko smirked slowly, wondering just how much Mr. Reynolds was sweating at this point. Was he wiping his brow? Blushing? The man couldn't even handle their health speech in ninth grade, much less repeat the words that had come out of Niko's mouth less than twenty minutes ago. “There were some...slurs that were...homophobic in nature and...Nikolas replied...” Pause. “Colorfully.”

Five points. He definitely could have been much more creative than that. The office door swung open and Niko could feel Mr. Sikes glare on him before he was jerked out of his seat by his elbow and his beanie was ripped off. “Ow,” he complained dryly. “Brutality.”

“What did you mouth off about this time?” Mr. Sikes demanded, getting straight to the point, because he was probably just as tired of seeing Niko in his office as Niko was of being there.

The boy arched an eyebrow, grabbed his beanie out of the man's hand and resituated it on his head. “Nothing,” he claimed, and Mr. Reynolds made a choking sound. Niko rolled his eyes slowly. “Okay, fine. There may have been a couple of guys on the football team who may have asked how much I like cock. So I told them.”

“Colorfully!” Mr. Reynolds sputtered behind the principal, glaring somewhat.

Niko raised an eyebrow. “I can give you a word-by-word if-”

“No,” Mr. Sikes ran a tired hand across his face, gestured for Mr. Reynolds to return back into the office. There was a pause for a moment before Mr. Sikes' hand was on his chin, moving his head better to probably see the bruise covering his cheekbone. “This new?”

“Apparently some people don't appreciate how much I like cock,” Niko answered, but he knew it didn't matter anyway. The football idiots never got in trouble because they were the only thing keeping money funded into the school. Niko could have a broken arm and no one would give a shit.

Mr. Sikes sighed deeply and stepped back, shaking his head a little as he moved towards his office. “I'm going to write up your third report this week Nikolas, and then provide your punishment.”

“Sure,” Niko replied. Translation: fuck that. He waited until the door was closed again before he pulled out his phone from his back pocket, absentmindedly scratching at the skin on his shoulder as he swiped through his contact list.

His thumb huddled over Pearce's name for a moment, and he thought about closing it out, putting it away, and dealing with whatever was to come. He'd lasted almost a month...he didn't need it...he didn't need him.

He was such a fucking liar sometimes it was comical.

Niko's text was short and simple: come get me. Then his phone was in his pocket and he was running. He knew by the time he circled the school to gather his shit Pearce would be there...and Pearce would be there, he had no question in that.

The bell rang, kids flooded the hallway, and Niko pushed his way out the front doors.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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There was something about waking up at noon with no pants on that just felt right. Admittedly, noon was a bit early for his liking, but the incessant buzzing on the table next to him wasn't going to stop unless he made it. Not to mention most of his clients were getting out of school in an hour or two, and his work day would be starting then. Pearce was a majorly nocturnal creature, preferring to go about his business during the midnight hours, but the little kiddies needed to be home and tucked in before eleven so he didn't get much say in the matter. Of course he had clients that weren't still in school, but the majority of his pool came from that shoddy public school downtown and his former school, Oakwood. Most of his deals went down in the few hours after school ended, probably so they could have whatever they wanted for whatever plans they had for the night.

Today wasn't a big sales day, being in the middle of the week, and off the top of his head he couldn't recall anything planned for later. That didn't mean much though, Flynn Nathans was infamous for his speed, within a half hour from a text he could have whatever shit you wanted and a place to meet, provided you had the cash for that sort of thing. At that moment Pearce was ready to just turn his phone off and roll back into bed, but that idea disappeared when he saw the name flashing on his screen. "Putain enfer..." Fucking hell, he curses inwardly, hating himself for the way his breath gets caught in his throat, and that spot right above his temple immediately starts pounding. He doesn't need to reply to the message, Niko knows him well enough to know he'll be outside the school and waiting for him before he can even get out those front doors.

He doesn't rush, per se, but he's on the road less than a few minutes later. He's dressed casually for him, a black denim jacket with a white vneck underneath, and dark jeans that are tight in just the right places. His bike roars to life underneath him as he kicks it started, and then he's flying at a speed that definitely not legal towards the school. His muscles know the way by memory, he's been there so many times. Not just for Niko, but to meet clients. Though the only times were noting were for Niko. It had been almost a month this time, an entire month that he'd had to last, unable to scratch that itch without the kid. The first time it had only been two weeks, and that had been barely tolerable. He was edgy recently, it had been all to easy to ignite his fuse, he'd almost beat the shit out of some guy that had tried to short him a tenner. That wasn't good, he was the dealer, he wasn't the stupid druggie coming to get his fix. When the fuck had he let himself get this way?

Pearce had just pulled up when Niko came out the front doors. He hadn't bothered shutting the engine off, he would just be taking them back to his place momentarily anyways. The splash of color on his cheek brought him up short, and Pearce's first instinct was to jump off the bike and beat the fuck out of whoever had done that to something that was his. Needless to say, he came to his senses a moment later and his ass stayed firmly seated on his very expensive bike. "Get into a fight with a door and lose, crétin?" He asked, sweet and innocent. "Get on, you can explain later."

crétin = idiot

Setting

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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Niko knew he had missed him, knew by the way his skin had itched, knew by the way his dreams had loved to remind him late at night when he thought about his life choices, knew by the way his whole body had ached sometimes. But knowing something rationally and feeling it were two very different things.

And Niko hadn't felt how much he missed Pearce until the man was right in front of him. He heard the motorcycle first, that familiar purr that sounded better than his favorite songs, and then he saw him and...Niko's world spun.

There was that pull again, sinking into his skin and grabbing on tight. It always seemed stronger after he cut it...like it wouldn't let him go again...and secretly Niko wished it wouldn't, because this almost hurt. And damn did Pearce look good...all tight black clothes and clinging v-necks and Niko wanted to lick him like a piece of candy.

He nearly smirked when he saw the look that crossed Pearce's face, because he knew that look. It was the same look anyone got when they stared at Niko too long, or a touch lingered that obviously shouldn't. Already Niko could feel Pearce seeping into him, claiming, marking mineminemine all over his body. A shudder flew down his spine because he knew, sooner than later, those marks would definitely be visible.

"Get into a fight with a door and lose, crétin?"

Niko didn't speak French (far from it), but he knew a few words. Usually the insults, because he and Pearce put each other down the way trophies wives bought diamonds. "Na, fell on some other dudes fist, douchehole," Niko answered, but he was already jumping down the steps, sliding the straps of his backpack over both arms securely, and then swinging his leg over the motorcycle with practiced ease.

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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Later never came, because Niko made the mistake of alluding to what had happened before even getting on the bike. Pearce's hands clenched the handles, knuckles turning white as he focused on other things. Like the way it felt to have Niko slide onto the back of his bike, to have that oh so familiar form pressed against him again. He didn't appreciate when people hurt his things, especially things as important to him as Niko was. Before he had even said anything Pearce had known the bruising had come from someone else, but he could have at least pretended otherwise until he had gotten out of there. Now he knew and it would have been much too easy for him to slide off the bike and stroll into the school to kick some ass. His whole body tensed, from the moment Niko said those words until the moment he got on the seat behind him. It took an incredible amount of self-control to stay seated. Needless to say, the comforting presence of Niko helped too. When did this kid become his tether to sanity?

The marks Pearce had left the last time they'd seen each other had long since faded, not surprising considering it'd been a month. That didn't mean he disliked it any less, and already he was counting down the minutes until he could mark his claim once more. Maybe then they would know not to touch Niko, they would know that doing so wasn't just going to get them a mark in their file, but they'd become personal enemies of Flynn Nathans, someone who was very capable of fucking up your life royally.

His grip on the clutch lightens, and then they're off. Pearce gives very little warning, but Niko should know that by now. His little studio apartment is at a midpoint between Oakwood Prep and the public school, and it doesn't take them long to get there, but it' driving him a little crazy to have Niko so close and not be able to touch him, especially with the way his arms are wrapped around his abdomen... Forcefully he clears his head, just in time to pull up to his building. He waits for Niko to get off first, since it'd be impossible for him to do so with someone behind him. "So who the fuck was it?" Pearce asks, nonchalant, totally not actually giving a fuck, really.

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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Niko knew he should've kept his mouth shut, but he'd never been very good at doing things he should. Pearce's body went tense the moment Niko was behind him and he hid a smile in the mans shoulder. There it was...that sense of belonging...Niko was Pearce's, no amount of time spent apart would change that. And Pearce never took kindly to people who messed with his things.

He pressed himself up close, seeking heat and rememorizing the familiar feel of leather and Pearce against him. His arms slid around the man's abdomen, under clothes seeking skin. He didn't let himself indulge long though, because Pearce always had a tendency of taking off without notice. When the bike jerked under him and then there was wind pressing against his face, Niko allowed himself to smile.

A month gone, but he hadn't forgotten anything at all.

The ride isn't long, but every second of it is pumped with adrenaline. A kind of high that makes his blood run too fast and his heart beat too hard. It's wonderful. It's addicting. It's only promising so much more. When Niko finally slides off the back of the bike, he can barely stand straight. He folds his arms behind his neck, stretches out and closes his eyes for a moment.

"Mm, Jacob Eves," he answers, knowing Pearce cares more than his tone suggests. Jacob has had it out for Niko since Freshman year, but it was only the last two years or so that gave him the muscle to do anything about it. Football had done him some good...and earned him some lackeys.

Niko could, no doubt, take care of himself. He was fast and street smart, but so were a lot of the kids where he grew up, and they knew better than to push him around without bringing someone to hold him down first. If he'd kept his mouth shut, Jake might have let him walk off. But, again, Niko wasn't known for doing things he should. "Don't worry, I hit him back." In the stomach, but it still counted.

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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All he can feel is the press of fingers against his bare skin. It's ridiculous, because it barely lasted a moment and Pearce isn't usually this easily wrecked over such small things, but inside he's burning because he wants more. Skin sliding against skin, sweat and moans, that sweet bliss that he only gets with Niko. There are other guys, yeah, but no one quite like his bundle of attitude. Pearce was used to possessing. He controlled all pieces on the board, be it with money, or drugs. But Niko was the one that always got away. There was no controlling him. It drove him mad and made him want him even more. Niko got to decide. He got to decide when he wanted to see Pearce, when they were "together" and when they were nothing more than strangers. It killed him and it kept him alive, because one way or another he needed this kid. And he would have him.

Pearce throws his leg over the bike, twisting so he's leaning casually against it while he watches Niko stretch. There's a strip of skin that's revealed when he does so and his mouth waters. Collar bones and hip bones, the two most wonderful things about human anatomy. And the two places Pearce loved to mark most. Those thoughts are distracted by Niko finally answering him, and his nostrils flare at what he says. Fucking Jacob Eves. He had sold to the kid before, he remembers because he had wanted some sort of crazy steroid and even Pearce had been appalled at how much he was willing to pay for it. Apparently something had worked, because the Jacob he had met definitely would not have been able to get a hit like that on Niko.

He huffs when he says he hit him back, a sort of half-laugh half-expressing-my-frustration-about-this-situation, and his lips turn upwards in a smirk. There's a step or two between him and the other boy, and he closes the distance before reaching out to gently touch the bruised cheek, turning him so he can look at it. And it's just so wrong, because Pearce is all rough touches and lip-biting and jaw-grabbing, and gentle just looks so wrong on him. "You may have, but I doubt you left anything like this on him." He says, rolling his eyes and finally dropping his hand, stepping away. "You should know you woke me up from a perfectly good sleep to come get you," Pearce tells him, starting towards the front door. "I think I deserve a little thanks, hm?"

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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There was something soothing about the feeling of Pearce's fingers on his cheek, something that seems to cause the background thump of pain to fade away completely. Niko's eyes fell shut, long lashes dusting against his cheeks, and he wondered momentarily why he ever denied himself this. Granted, Pearce was rarely this gentle, but still...

"You may have, but I doubt you left anything like this on him."

Moment ruined. Niko rolled his eyes so hard he was surprised they didn't fly out of his head. "Dickhead," he grumbled, shoving his hands into his pocket. "I can hit." But, honestly, Pearce was probably right. Niko had struck out blindly, just hoping to get away without losing an eye in the little fight, who knew what kind of hit he actually landed.

Pearce was saying something, moving towards the front door, complaining about having to wake up or something. Which was ridiculous, it was past noon...but Niko knew better than anyone just how late someone could sleep in Pearce's room...especially tangled up in limbs and blankets, thoroughly warn out from the night before.

Niko bit down on his lower lip, letting his eyes wonder across Pearce's body. He never got tired of that...of getting to look at that...at knowing just what was hiding under those clothes. If Niko had known where he was going to end up, maybe he would have chosen to wear something other than a three year old sweater -- the neck of which was so warn out it was hanging off one shoulder -- and old jeans. But he wasn't the looker in the relationship. That was all Pearce.

"I think I deserve a little thanks, hm?"

Niko snapped back to the present and a smirk crossed his face before he bounced up behind the other male, lifting on his tiptoes and resting his hands on Pearce's shoulder for the leverage it took to nibble on an earlobe. "Mm...maybe...if you make it worth my while..."

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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Gentleness was not a skill he possessed. Rather he preferred rough, he liked black and blue painted skin, loved the dull ache that came from his back when he stretched the morning after and the faint red lines that remained after having his back clawed at. When he kissed it was more a combination of teeth and trying to stake his claim, assert his dominance, rather than a chaste press of lips. The only time he was holding anyones hand was when he had them pinned over their head, but he preferred to see them clenching the sheets, fingers twisted in fabric as if that could tether them. Admittedly, afterwards, he had a bad tendency to wrap himself around or trap the other person partially beneath him, rendering them unable to escape. He often woke up tangled in another person, well, at least until recently. After Niko had swept in and turned everything upside down, it was mostly either Niko he was waking up on top of (or inside of) or he was waking up alone. He doesn't remember when he turned into such a fucking pansy.

Pearce knows Niko can hit, so he doesn't bother replying to the- slightly indignant -comment as he's heading towards the door. He's been on the receiving end of plenty of Niko's punches, and he'd also tried to get him back, which was nearly impossible with how quick the damn kid moved. Fortunately he'd devised a better plan to deal with those situations, mostly involving him tackling the bastard and fucking him into the floor until he gets it. Niko is his fucking property, and his alone. Pearce was never good at sharing his things, and as much as he hated to admit it, Niko was much more important to him than just some toy.

If the other boy had voiced his opinions about his looks, Pearce would have fought him on it. He didn't care much for clothes, they didn't stay on for long anyways, but even a baggy old sweatshirt and jeans looked attractive on someone like Niko. Especially the way it hung off his shoulder, leaving more skin exposed to make his mouth water. It wasn't fair how he could drive him crazy without even trying. He drew a sharp breath when he felt Niko approaching, knowing what would be coming next, but even that didn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine, or the hair that stood up on the back of his neck. "Little fucker," but there's no real heat behind it. It's useless to pretend that Niko doesn't affect him, especially after being away from him for nearly a month, but he tries to anyway. "If you're trying for free merch, you're shit out of luck." Pearce grins, pushing open the door to step into his little studio flat. His entire being aches for Niko, now, but he wants the other boy to break first. There's a futon in the corner that doubles as his bed, in front of a huge TV with most every gaming console, and there's a kitchen on the other side, which is only used to store what he has on hand. He turns to shut the door behind the kid, then faces him with one eyebrow raised, a perfectly practiced expression.

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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If possible, Niko's smirk only grew at the curse as he dropped back down onto his feet. He had half the mind to drag Pearce's jacket off when his hands slid down the man's back, to get reacquainted with each other right there in the doorway, but he didn't. He was content just knowing he still affected him...still had somewhat of a hold on the man who demanded to be in control of everything...

"If you're trying for free merch, you're shit out of luck."

"Why don't you love me?" Niko complained as he stepped inside, and almost immediately the nerves that had been wired through his body for the last month disappeared completely. Pearce's little studio appartment felt more like home than any place Niko had ever been. He knew what food probably lined the kitchen, knew what games and moves were stored next to the television, knew that futon more intimately than his own bed...

In fact, he knew the entire room more intimately than anything else in his life. Was there even a surface left they hadn't fucked on? Not the bed, not the floor, not most of the walls, the kitchen counter...Niko lets himself wander for a moment, dropping his backpack somewhere by the door as his fingers drift across surfaces.

Memories splash back immediately. Being pushed up against the door moments within entering, pressing his forehead against the wood and having his mind blown. A hand between his shoulder blades forcing him down into the carpet, demanding he never joke about leaving again. Fingers twisted into sheets, hip bones digging into the kitchen counter, wrists pinned against the wall. Bruises being sucked into his skin, marks being made, hips and collarbones bitten into. Smoke shared between kisses, pills sliding between tongues...

Flying so fucking sky high nothing would be good enough ever again.

Niko twisted on his heals, walking back towards where Pearce was leaning on the door, one eyebrow raised, smirk fighting at the corner of his mouth. Niko crossed the room slowly, until he was in Pearce's space, face tilted for a kiss...so close, all it would take was for him to lift up on his toes or Peace to lean down just a little. "Do you want me to break first?" he asked, voice low, just for the two of them even though they were alone.

His hands traveled down Pearce's white v-neck, remembering the way those muscles felt under his fingers, hesitating for a moment when they reached the waistline of dark colored jeans. "Beg for it? For you? To be covered in sweat and smoke and everything I haven't had for a month..."

He pulled his hands away, leaned back just enough he could grab at his sweater and pull it over his head, discarding it somehwere unimportant. He knew he was unmarked...he hadn't been with anyone in a month...the only color against his pale skin was a bit of yellow on his upperarms where he'd been held back earlier that day. "I think I can play this game longer than you, baby."

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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The first time Niko had brought up the L word, Pearce had thought he was going to faint. Now he was only too used to hearing it, barely even offered a laugh at the notion anymore. He didn't know what he and Niko had, but everything in him said it wasn't love. Because the idea they had something real just hit too close to home, and he refused to believe in it. Though the younger boy was overly fond of the word, and brought it out whenever he pleased. Pearce never said it back, but there's been a few times that they've been tangled in bed together, moments away from giving up consciousness, that Niko's whispered the words to him and Pearce has replied with his I know, the most acknowledgement he was ever going to get from him on the subject. Frankly, Pearce didn't believe in love. Lust was a different story, and that was something he could put all his faith into.

Pearce has a feeling that Niko had the same scenes running through his mind as he does. Fingerprint shaped bruises on hipbones from holding on so tight, fingers tangled in each others hair, grabbing and tugging. Open mouthed kisses, hot and wet and everything they needed right then. Pressing the younger boy against the door he was leaned against right then, and dropping to his knees in front of him like he'd never done for any boy before. Pearce trailing kissing up and down his body, fingers skidding over bruises, apologies without the use of words. Lazy shapes drawn on naked skin before they fell asleep, a temporary distraction from the destruction around them.

He hates him with everything inside of him when he's that close, every muscle is tense, holding himself back. There's a million and one things he wants to do to him right now, and unless he's willing to give up the game, he can't. But it isn't fair how every single fucking nerve in his body is set on fire as those hands move down his chest, but his gaze never moves from Niko's face. Even if his body is ready to betray him, he's determined not to break. Not that easily, at least. Beg for it? His breath catches, For you? The little asshole shouldn't even be allowed to say such things, Pearce doesn't take well to being teased. But the oh so tempting sight of bare skin now is killing him, and in return he strips off his own jacket and shirt, revealing his toned torso, the line of dark hair that trails down into his expensive boxer-briefs, that V-line. "I'd love to see you try, aimer." This was the closest he ever got to the L word, occasionally calling Niko "love" in French, usually in a mocking way. "You're the one that's been cut off for a month, how much longer do you think you can last?" He asks, unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down.

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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"Fucking cheat," Niko mumbled, gaze trailing down Pearce's now visible form. God, how he missed that. Missed the lean muscles under his touch, missed the way he knew Pearce's stomach would roll, abs flexing in a way that should be illegal. Missed those hands on him...strong arms caging him in...misses running his tongue over that v-line he memorized long ago after their done, curled up together and sticky from sweat and sex.

But more than that...more than being offered everything his body had demanded of him for the past thirty days...it was that word. Aimer. French. Love. It was the closest Pearce had ever gotten to saying it back...even mockingly, even sarcastically on occasion...that was enough for Niko. Hell, the two used insults like petnames, of course that was enough.

So that word...that one fucking word...that was the word that made his knees weak. That was the word that made him want to throw up his hands, call surrender. But he didn't. He wouldn't. He was nothing if not stubborn.

"Mm..." Niko's eyes followed Pearce's pants as they dropped to the ground, and he almost forgot how fucking much he loved boxer briefs...almost dropped to his knees right then and there. "What have you been doing for the past month?" he asked, fingers reaching for the waistband of underwear that probably cost more than his life, fingers trailing through dark hair before slipping a little lower. "I bet whoever he was, he's not as good as me."

Niko wasn't stupid. Pearce was gorgeous, he could have any man he wanted with the snap of his fingers...girls, too, but that wasn't something he was interested in. The man didn't do love...feelings...so Niko wasn't going to think he'd been alone, just waiting...when they were together, Niko was sure he was the only one in Pearce's bed, but apart...

"I bet he didn't moan like I do. I bet he didn't scream your name. I bet he couldn't take it the way I can." He moved his hands again, palms splaying out across hipbones, before Niko leaned foward and trailed slow, open mouthed kisses across Pearce's perfect jawline. "What would you do...if I hadn't been alone all month? If I let someone else touch me...someone else know me only the way you do...someone else press bruises into me."

He was playing with fire and he knew it, hitting on Pearce's possessive streak like that. But the truth was...Niko wanted Pearce's name written all over him again in black and blue. He wanted to ache and hurt in ways he hadn't for so long...and there was no one else. There hadn't been anyone else for Niko in over a year. But that wasn't important.

He wanted. And he was going to get it.

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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There was no way Pearce would ever admit that he had been waiting for Niko. Not a single thing in the world could convince him to come clean on that one, he was much more happy letting Niko think that he'd had a different man in his bed every night since the kid had walked out that door. He didn't plan on playing on it much, for once not jumping to add fuel to the flame, instead he preferred to let this one burn itself out. Jealous Niko was fun, he didn't show it like Pearce did, not really. Pearce got possessive, he wanted to punch people, break things. Niko got physical, it seemed, as if he could erase whoever else had been on him if he replaced them with himself. There was something about that that sent Pearce almost stumbling off the edge, because he'd never wanted so fiercely before, everything had been black and white until this asshole had stumbled into his life less than a year ago, splashing color onto everything and fucking blinding him.

He was smirking now, not trying to hide it, refusing to give Niko any satisfaction of a reaction from him as he kissed along his jawline. Not yet had he touched the other boy, not since that gentle press of fingers against his cheek outside, but Niko had his hands all over him already. He was jealous and proud, because he wanted to be the one driving him insane right now, but he was also pretty damn happy that he hadn't buckled yet. That he at least had this to hold over him. Unfortunately his resolve was failing and he knew it wasn't going to last much longer. He thought perhaps long enough to get the kid down onto his knees, but he hadn't expected Niko to pull that card on him either.

It was like a switch had been flipped inside of him. The speed of which he had flipped them around was astonishing, more so was the now he had both of Niko's hands in one of his, and they were held high above his head as he pressed the boy into the door with his body. His other hand gripped his jaw, holding it roughly but not yet to the point where he'd cause any pain. "You are mine." He tells him, very slowly, his rage obvious in every aspect of him. "Do you fucking understand me?" He almost shouts, grinding his hips into the boys, a harsh and uncoordinated movement, but a too familiar gesture. "No one is allowed to touch you but me." His hand slides from his jaw to the back of his neck, and he uses it as leverage to pull him in and crush his mouth against his. He had never been so delighted to lose.

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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Niko never felt himself move. Maybe he didn't, maybe Pearce literally picked him up off the ground. All he knew was that one moment he had his mouth on Pearce, then the next he was letting out a surprised gasp, and the all too familiar of being pressed into the door returned like a favorite memory.

His hands were gone, trapped together at the wrist up high, and he had to turn his head to the side as Pearce was suddenly everywhere, pressing into him, fingers digging into his jaw. "You are mine." There it was. Niko won, at a cost he was willing to pay, followed by a moan at the feeling of hips grinding into his own. His toes curled in his sneakers, fingers searching for purchase against the door, but he didn't find any.

"No one but you," he whispered, some sort of promise and vow all in one, and then Pearce's mouth was crashing against his own and finally, finally that itch under his skin went away. Finally he got what he needed.




Niko couldn't say where his clothes ended up if his life depend on it. He couldn't count the number of marks across his skin...the ones caused from fingers holding on too tight or the ones caused from being held down and sucked on. He couldn't say if his throat was raw from moaning or from being well used.

He didn't know if the room became a wreck on round one or two or three, didn't know what they had pushed out of the way for more space or what had simply been collateral damage. He didn't know if they had ended on the futon, or crawled there at some point.

He did know he'd said Pearce's name so many times he'd almost forgotten what it meant. He knew he probably lost consciousness at some point because it was all too fucking good to handle. He knew his body was going to hurt like a bitch in the morning.

He knew Pearce had seeped back into him, claimed every inch all over again, and he'd never been happier in his life.

Niko ran his fingers through Pearce's hair again, tilted the man's head back enough to press his mouth into the hollow of his neck. He didn't mark the way Pearce did, wasn't nearly as rough, but he was determined...determined to lick every last bit of him. Erase anyone that may have been there in the last month.

He was tired, sloppy, but so was Pearce. So utterly fucked out that he didn't even care Niko had squirmed away before the man could pass out on top of him. Too tired to argue when Niko got to work, trailing his tongue over the grooves of that perfectly defined torso to where he was now.

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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No one but you. The words echoed in his head, set on permanent replay, the stop button broken. You'd expect that after the first time, things died down between them. That wasn't the case. Their entire relationship with a whirlwind, not just the beginning of it. There was no calming down for them, the most normal they got was moments like this, with Pearce fighting to keep his eyes open while he's sprawled out on his bed, every nerve in his body hypersensitive after hours of just fucking. That doesn't mean Niko's done, of course, no the kid is still at it, moving over his torso like it's his fucking job and he's getting paid overtime. He lets him maneuver him whichever way he wants, his hair is tugged lightly and he automatically tilts back, exposing the entirety of his neck to Niko. He has goosebumps all over from the treatment, and he was too blissed out to care. Niko knew where his weak spots where, his neck being one of them.

"Aimer, aimer, dis-moi pourquoi tu me aimes?" He's mumbling, barely coherent now, and perhaps Niko can pick out words but there's no way he can figure out what he's asking. Pearce hardly knows himself, he's too concentrated on that almost-feels-so-good-it-hurts feeling. For once he's completely sober, no alcohol or drugs of any kind in his system, not even a cigarette. He doesn't know about Niko, doesn't know if the kid took something during the few minutes he had while Pearce wasn't looking, frankly he doesn't care. Any other time it wouldn't matter, but this was something he had wanted to be completely there for. It wasn't the first time, certainly wasn't going to be the last time, but he knew that this was going to be mind blowing without the drugs.

One of his hands rests on his lower stomach, the other is trailing it's way up and down Niko's side, occasionally sneaking far enough down to cup his rear or teasingly drag his finger down the curve of his ass. Sometimes he does this to his spine, going from the very top to the bottom, always slowly, always dragging it out. Sometimes his fingers pass over the bruises he's left, and he hesitates, a silent apology. Because he doesn't really want to hurt him, but they have to know that Niko is his. No one else can have him.

Aimer, aimer, dis-moi pourquoi tu me aimes? = Love, love, tell me why you love me?

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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Niko hummed contently against Pearce's throat as the words reached his ears. French, barely a mumble, barely coherent. He wondered if Pearce himself even knew he was speaking, not that it mattered to Niko. It didn't even matter that he didn't know what was being said...he could listen to Pearce talk all day and never understand a word. He knew one though. Aimer.

Niko leaned up a little, moving along the underside of Pearce's jaw, drawing kisses to the soft patch of skin behind his ear before letting the tip of his nose trace the shell. "I love you," he whispered softly, a promise both that the words were true and that he wouldn't leave again. Couldn't. Even though they both knew he eventually would try.

He said the word too much. Love. He knew he did. Said it so much Pearce barely spared him an eyeroll these days. Didn't make it any less true though. Niko loved him, even if Pearce didn't love him back, even if what they had together wasn't love itself...Niko loved him. It was a dangerous game, but so was everything else they shared.

Part of him wanted more, with each soft stroke Pearce left a burning trail across his skin, and his body reacted even if he knew he didn't have the energy. Even if they went slow, neither of them would last another round. Niko pushed himself up, resting his forearm next to Pearce's head to hold himself up before leaning in to kiss him.

Everything now was soft and smooth, slick and sliding, bottom lips captured between teeth just long enough to pull. He wanted to stay there forever, to groan low in the back of his throat each time Pearce's teasing touches got to be a little too much. He dropped his weight slowly, got comfortable against the older man, pressed his face into his neck. "So," he mumbled. "Good enough 'thanks'?"

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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This was the only paradise Pearce ever wanted. It didn't matter that, for one thing, this was completely illegal since he was over eighteen and Niko was sixteen. Nor did it matter that the only reason this had ever happened was because of their mutual hobby of substance abuse. And honestly, he couldn't give a shit less about the fact that eventually Niko was going to grow up, he was going to move on and become some famous artist, he was going to leave him behind and Pearce was going to be stuck in this shithole for the rest of his life, having the money to go but not the talent to leave. Right now, this moment, was what he lived for. Holding the boy that had himself convinced he was in love with this rich bad boy drug dealer, wishing he could could just play this day on repeat for forever. But eventually morning would come (or night? He wasn't sure how long they'd spent fucking) and Niko would probably have to go to school, and Pearce would get ready to go move some merch.

Their temporary bliss would fade, and so would Niko's love for him.

They kissed lazily, both of their bodies reacting to it, and both of them too exhausted to do much more than keep kissing. He bit teasingly at the others lips, his own moving softly against his, their most intimate kisses were usually after sex. During the time it takes for the kid to pull away and make himself comfortable, Pearce stretches from head to toe, most of him cracking as he groans. Niko curls into his side mostly, pressing his face into his neck, and says nothing that Pearce expected. But really, shouldn't he have? "Dickhead." He complains, smiling. He drops his head slightly so he can press a kiss to his forehead, staying a moment later than necessary, before he pulls away and wraps his arms around the boy, going into typical after-sex-Pearce-position. "Let's just say that's something I could definitely get used to. I wish you were always that happy to see me." He teases quietly.

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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Niko smirked at the curse word, hearing almost as much affection in it as he did a certain French one, but it was the kiss pressed to his forehead that made him sigh, made him melt. Pearce wrapped around him and Niko let him, caged in against his body, tangled up and thoroughly content. Completely fucked out and blissful.

"Let's just say that's something I could definitely get used to. I wish you were always that happy to see me."

Guilt. He hadn't felt that it in awhile. It punched trough his stomach like an old friend not quite happy to be back, and Niko was glad Pearce couldn't see his face from the way they were laying.

He wished he could argue. Wished he could say he had always been that happy to see the man. But it simply wasn't true. They didn't have some sort of rainbows and butterflies relationship. They barely even had a relationship. They had sex and drugs and sometimes more that neither of them wanted to talk about.

Part of him thought about getting defensive. Of throwing the line back at Pearce because hell knew Pearce wasn't always happy to see him. But the truth was, from the day they met, it had always been Niko shoving Pearce away. Niko who walked out the door. Niko who started the arguments.

The other part wanted to say this was something he could get used to, too. All day, everyday. Be-my-boyfriend kind of way. Where he'd get to come here everyday after school, never wear clothes on the weekends, have Pearce all the time...

Niko didn't say either of those things. Because one would end in a fight and the other would go places they'd never been able to handle before.

So instead he pressed kisses into whatever part of Pearce's skin he could reach. "I need a cigarette," he mumbled, barely moving enough to be heard. "Preferably the kind made with cannabis."

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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They're both quiet for awhile. It's comfortable, it feels normal. Pearce doesn't feel the need to fill the air with useless words, instead he just wants to lay there and hold Niko, he wants to ride out this high with him. In the back of his mind he's terrified, not knowing if this was just a one-time thing and he was going to disappear. Or maybe this time they'd last a few days, a week or two, Pearce never knew. It was all Niko, he was who made the decisions. He was the only person that Pearce ever relinquished his control to... the only person that he let tear him down, who knew how to build him back up and knew how to hurt him most. Maybe all he sees still is that little middle schooler, looking hungry and tired and like he'd been sleeping on a bus for days, trying to take his wallet so he could afford some shitty fast food dinner, and he can't help but feel this fierce need to protect.

Then Niko has to ruin the silence by bringing up the drugs. Ultimately he knows that's what the kid came for, he may have convinced himself that he has some sort of feelings for Pearce, but in the end it's this. At least that's what Pearce has told himself, hundreds of times as he's pacing back and forth and fighting the urge to pick up the phone and text him, to show up outside his school when it's letting out and demand he come back. "Knew you were just using me," he murmurs, huffing, nipping at the younger boys ear and digging his nails into his backside, where his hand had been resting against his ass. Reluctantly he disentangles himself, standing up and raising his hands above his head to stretch momentarily, still naked as ever. Pearce usually is though, he's probably much too comfortable with his body. He walks over to the little kitchen and ducks down to get into the bottom drawer, where his stash is. There's joints rolled already and he grabs one and a lighter before returning to Niko on the futon.

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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Niko squealed in a way he couldn't even try to play off as manly when Pearce's fingers sank into his ass. Admittedly, his entire body was over-sensitive, but he hadn't been expecting the grab more than anything. He tried to be annoyed, but the truth was he couldn't wipe the smile off his face for anything.

Pearce untangled himself from the mess of limbs they'd created, and the boy missed the closeness immediately, even if it was his fault they had to move. He shifted for a moment, grabbing a discarded pillow to pull into his arms, nuzzle his face into, and stare shamelessly at Pearce's body as the man stretched out, completely naked and unashamed as always.

Niko definitely didn't mark the way Pearce did. He didn't have that same drive to prove dominance or stake claim, but that didn't mean there wasn't any physical evidence that Niko had been there. Most notably were the scratch marks down Pearce's back, red and raised and violent looking because they were too new. There were a couple on his arms, a few across his ass where Niko had held on for dear life, Pearce's name on the tip of his tongue.

Why the fuck did he ever think life would be better without this?

Pearce returned in a moment, perfectly rolled joint and a lighter in his hands. Niko shot up, catching his reflection in the television for just a moment. He looked wrecked, black hair sticking almost straight up, eyes tired but smile unmistakable. He smirked to himself, took the drugs Pearce offered.

He only had to click the lighter once before lighting up, putting it perfectly between his lips and dragging deep. Warmth spread through his body from head to toe, a calming effect relaxing his body even more than he thought possible and clearing his mind. Niko dropped back against the wall, eyes closed and head tilting back, savoring the taste of it before opening his mouth and letting smoke swirl into the air. "Fuck."

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Character Portrait: Niko Matsuhita Character Portrait: Pearce Nathans
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This was the Niko he liked most. That wasn't to say that every other version of him didn't drive Pearce absolutely insane, but this... The messy hair, pupils blown wide, skin starting to darken as the bruises and bitemarks show. It's almost better than sex, and it's ten thousand times better than any high. Maybe Niko isn't your average hottie, but there's nothing more beautiful in the world than him to Pearce. Big brown eyes that turned to caramel in the light, the Just Live tattoo on his heart, all the sharp edges of bones that stick just too far out, tell-tales signs of his addiction and malnourishment. Pearce just wants to press kisses to every inch of his skin, wants to promise him that he's going to take care of him and that absolutely no one is ever going to lay a fucking finger on him again, he wants to mark him as his and know that those marks aren't ever going to fade again, because they aren't going to go months without each other.

Pearce drops back down on the futon, leaving space enough between he and Niko so he can watch the kid. His eyes darken with that familiar lust as he watches him slump against the wall, eyes closed, head back. He wants to move forwards, wants to kiss his neck, wants to make him want him as much as he wants the high. "We already did that." Pearce comments, snarky, as he reaches forward to pluck the joint out of Niko's fingers. He takes a practised hit but doesn't exhale until his lips are pressed against his again, nipping his way into Niko's mouth until the smoke and their tongues are twisting together, until every thought in his brain is gone but Niko.