Drive me Wild, Rival(BL)

Nico

Alaric’s pants came in slow, shallow breaths as he leaned against my chest, his dark hair plastered against his forehead, and thick streams of steaming spring water channeled down his nose, dripping off his jawline.

He pushed himself off my chest and then turned around, glaring hard at me. If looks could kill, then I would be buried right there at that moment.

But I couldn’t help it. Seeing how drenched he was made me throw my head back and laugh yet again.

"You absolute bastard!" Alaric roared.

Before the words could even fully leave his mouth, his wet hands shot out through the billowing steam. He grabbed me by the back of my head, his fingers tangling firmly into my damp hair, and with a sudden, surprisingly powerful burst of furious strength, he forced my entire head straight down beneath the bubbling surface.

The hot, mineral-rich water rushed over my face, cutting off my laughter in a sudden explosion of bubbles.

It was a classic, aggressive power move, exactly what I expected from a man who hated losing control more than anything else in the world. But as I held myself underwater for a brief second, grinning against the heat, I knew he hadn’t actually won anything.

I pushed myself back up, breaking the surface with a heavy splash and shaking my head to send drops of water flying everywhere. The moment I cleared my eyes and saw him still glaring at me, his chest heaving and his eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and deep embarrassment, I just started laughing all over again.

The laughter was louder this time, and that just made Alaric glare even harder at me.

"Is that the best you’ve got, Alaric?" I choked out, wiping the moisture from my eyelashes while my chest shook with amusement. "Hours of driving that Maybach must have made your reflexes slow."

"Fuck you, Nicholas," Alaric spat, his voice dropping into that dangerously low, razor-sharp register he used when he was genuinely reaching his limit. He wiped a hand across his face, trying to clear the steam from his vision, but his heavy, soaked button-down shirt was pulling tightly across his shoulders, restricting his movements. "Fuck you, fuck your mountain cabin, and fuck this entire godforsaken trip."

"Oh, come on, don’t be a sore loser," I teased, deliberately drifting backward through the buoyancy of the spring, letting my arms rest along the smooth, natural stone rim of the pool.

The heat was already working its magic, melting the tension from my muscles, but watching Alaric simmer in his own rage was infinitely more therapeutic. "The clothes are already ruined. The damage is done. You might as well strip down and actually enjoy the benefits of a natural onsen. Kazue-san didn’t prepare this place just for you to stand there looking like a drowned rat."

"I am not staying in this water with you for another miserable second," he snapped, his jaw locked so tightly I could see the sharp muscle ticking beneath his skin. He took a heavy, uncoordinated step toward the submerged stone steps, his waterlogged loafers squelching loudly against the rock bottom. "I am getting out, I am changing into dry clothes, and I am finding a way to sleep as far away from your insufferable presence as physically possible."

"And go where, exactly?" I called out, my voice smooth and laced with a lazy, untouchable confidence as I watched him struggle against the weight of his wet trousers. "You’re going to go knock on Sophia’s door in that condition? Wake her up looking like you just crawled out of a river? Or maybe you’ll go back to the genkan and explain to Kazue-san, in your excellent, flawless Japanese, why you’re dripping all over her pristine tatami mats?"

Alaric froze on the second step, his back turning incredibly rigid. I could practically see the calculations running through his brilliant, stubborn mind, his options dwindling down to absolute zero. He slowly turned his head back to look at me over his wet shoulder, his glare sharp enough to cut through glass.

"I will sleep in the car," he yelled back at me. "The Maybach has reclining seats. It is infinitely more preferable to staying in a confined space with a lunatic who doesn’t understand the basic concept of human boundaries."

"The keys are in my jacket, princess," I replied, flashing him a slow, thoroughly wicked grin as I raised my left hand out of the water, mimicking the motion of holding them up. "And my jacket is inside the room. You’d have to fight me for them, and let’s be honest—in those heavy clothes, your center of gravity is completely shot." I winked at him.

"You are a deeply unhinged, manipulative sociopath," Alaric growled, turning his entire body around to face me fully. He was breathing heavily now, the thick white steam curling around his broad shoulders and making the dark, wet fabric of his shirt cling beautifully to the contours of his chest.

"I’m a pragmatist," I corrected smoothly, kicking my legs slightly to push myself off the stone wall. I began to swim toward him, my body cutting through the crystal-clear, bubbling water with slow ease.

The flaccid weight between my thighs shifted with the movement, completely exposed beneath the surface, but my focus was entirely locked on the man standing on the steps. "There’s a difference. I see an opportunity to make you relax, and I take it. We had a race days ago, and we will be having another in a few days. You’re practically vibrating with stress."

"I am vibrating with the urge to take your head and put it back under this water permanently," he countered, though he didn’t take another step backward as I closed the distance between us. His eyes tracked my approach, his pupils dilated in the dim light of the outdoor lanterns.

"Then do it," I challenged softly, my voice dropping into a low, quiet murmur as I reached the shallow edge where he stood. The water here only came up to his waist, while it covered my chest.

I stopped just inches away from him, the intense heat of the spring radiating between our frames and creating a thick, suffocating wall of tension.

"Stop talking about it and actually do something about it," I challenged.

Alaric’s chest heaved, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides, his knuckles turning stark white.

"Nico Park!"

Before he could finish the warning, I lunged forward. My wet hands cut through the air, my fingers wrapping securely around his narrow waist and locking him in place before he could even think about retreating up the steps.

I pulled him downward, dragging his heavy, waterlogged frame back into the deeper section of the pool until the hot water rushed up to his chest, forcing a sharp, breathless gasp from his lungs.

I didn’t give him a single second to recover. I leaned in, my tilted head blocking out the rest of the world, and slammed my mouth directly over his.