Title: Nothing's Perfect Rating: R Pairing: Nny/Teatime Author's Note: Set in the early days of the Slays Together RPverse, in which Teatime and Nny are living in Ankh-Morpork. Also, nice point of information - this was mostly written in an airport in France on my way back to Scotland from Japan. XD
As much as Teatime enjoyed and took satisfaction from his job, he enjoyed living moreso; and after the fifth Guild-sponsored attempt on his life he decided to leave. Not having a job for a little while would be something of an inconvenience, but he had a plan. Living independently was even more inconvenient. That's why it was so nice that he had his friend with him.
Well. So far. They now lived near the University, a home-made third-story addition to a chandler's that wasn't strictly allowed and that could only be reached by a rickety outside staircase, and Nny was trying to be friends with the apprentice girl downstairs. He spoke to her. He smiled at her. Teatime had nothing against smiling, of course - it was an activity he engaged in quite regularly - but normally Nny wouldn't smile at anyone who wasn't him (except in very particular circumstances, but they'd had to cut down on that now that they were On The Run).
Teatime didn't like it. Nny was his friend.
He'd been considering this point (not brooding - you couldn't brood if you were smiling, which Teatime was) for some time when Nny came home, slamming the door shut against a wind that was made worse by their uncertain staircase.
"Why do you need another friend?" Teatime asked immediately.
Nny looked up, confused. He was wearing lots of clothes, and a scarf over his face - for the cold, and the smell, he said. "What?"
"The girl downstairs. Why do you want to be friends with her? You already have a friend."
A tinge of red infused Nny's cheeks, and he smiled. "Oh. Laura. She's... she's nice."
Teatime waited patiently, but Nny didn't seem to want to elaborate. Eventually he prompted, "What can she do that I can't?", which made Nny scowl, which seemed terribly unreasonable and unfair. Why was he getting scowls while someone else got smiles?
"Then you can say."
"It's - for God's sake, Teatime, can't you -"
"Can't I what?" He blinked, watching Nny with growing confusion. "I don't see why you'd need another -"
And then, somewhat startlingly, Nny was pressing his face against his. Teatime's understanding of personal space was less sophisticated than most, so he couldn't really recall when they'd gotten so close, and he wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do. Before he could formulate a response, though, Nny pulled away; his face was a little redder and his eyebrows were knitted. "That," he said. "That's why I want to..." His expression faltered. "You don't seem very..."
"You - do you want to --"
"Of course I do," Teatime replied. He didn't see why Nny thought he would mind such a thing. It didn't hurt, after all. "And," he added, "I expect I'm much better than Miss Laura is."
Nny laughed - the sound was a little shaky. "You really -" he began, and Teatime decided to put his doubts to rest by pressing his face against Nny's. After a brief moment's Nny's mouth opened, and Teatime followed suit, since he wasn't quite sure what they were doing. His lips were dry and soft and his mouth was hot and wet and hollow, like a dark cavern in Nny's face. It seemed like a good idea to rest his arms about Nny's waist, because otherwise they were dangling quite uselessly at his sides; apparently this was the right thing to do, because Nny made a soft noise and pulled him closer, beginning to walk them backwards. It was an awful lot of things to concentrate on at once - like learning a new weapon or a new dance. Nny's hands slipped lower. He pulled them even tighter together - no space between them now - and began rubbing against Teatime, and Teatime's startled backwards jump was masked by them stumbling against the bed.
It was at this point that Teatime noticed Nny's trousers, and it made sense.
It was almost enough to annoy him, in fact. It wasn't that he minded. But if that's what Nny had wanted he might have just said, rather than going through a song and dance about finding new friends and playing games with faces and such.
Nny had fallen onto the bed. Teatime straddled him, and opened his trousers without fuss, ignoring what Nny was saying.
It wasn't bad. It didn't last very long, and Nny didn't grab his hair to make him go faster or deeper, and he didn't object to Teatime pinning his hips down against the bed. After, Teatime got up to get something for the taste, but Nny grabbed his wrist.
"C'mere," he said. He was smiling again: a very different smile to the ones Teatime had seen before: relaxed and lazy. He pulled Teatime closer, and it occurred to him that this faces-and-lips game was kissing, or something like it - he hadn't realised that people opened their mouths while they did that. Maybe it was a different kind. Nny was running his hands over him, which was actually quite nice.
Then Nny's hand reached his trousers, and Teatime froze.
He wasn't stupid. He knew that it felt nice to touch there, he'd simply never... He shouldn't let Nny do this. He wasn't supposed to.
But perhaps if he were too busy kissing, he wouldn't notice.
With some studiousness, Teatime began to copy what Nny was doing, in regards to lips and tongues and teeth and such. It was because of this that he didn't notice Nny unbuttoning his trousers, or cautiously slipping a hand through the slit in his underwear. He didn't make any odd little noises at the back of his throat, or grip the tops of Nny's arms far-too-tightly, and when Nny broke away to whisper, "Is this okay?" Teatime didn't simply press against him and muffle any response he might have made with Nny's mouth. And he certainly wasn't shaking. He was kissing Nny, which was alright, because Nny was his friend.
Nothing happened, which means of course there wasn't an afterwards, but Teatime was understandably a little out of breath after all the kissing - which explains the way his body suddenly froze, and the long, shaky exhalation that followed. He rested his head against Nny's shoulder.
They were quiet for a little while. Then Nny cleared his throat. "So, uh... what does this mean?"
"You're my friend," Teatime answered immediately. "You don't need another friend."
Another small silence.
"Do you, um... do you think this is... perfect?"
"Nothing's perfect, Nny," Teatime mumbled into Nny's chest. Then, for no reason whatsoever, he fell asleep.