#jokmal

January 11th, 2018

“What is word for.. mouth touch?”

“Mouth touch?” Jamal looks up at Nikola, confused.

Nikola nods slightly, movement stiff and ungraceful, “Yes. Mouth on mouth.”

Jamal pauses to think. His first thought is of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but he doesn’t think that’s what Nikola means. It clicks when he pictures the thing. “Do you mean kissing?”

“Kissing.” Nikola parrots, accepting the word. He then asks, “You want kissing me?”

Jamal blushes, surprised by Nikola’s awkward forwardness. He chuckled sheepishly, before stopping when he noticed Nikola was still staring down at him with genuine curiosity. Jamal clears his throat, “You’re serious?”

Nikola briefly bows his head again, “You not?”

“No, we.. we definitely could.” Jamal agrees, not quite processing the words before they make it out of his brain. He catches up with himself, face flushing even more, his eyes fallen onto Nikola’s lips, failing to not imagine placing his onto them.

Nikola leaned down so their faces were at the same level. Jamal’s eyes widened slightly, “Here?” There was nobody else around, but he was still reeling from the reality of the situation.

“Not here?” Nikola tilts his head with a miniscule movement.

Jamal takes a deep breath, ignoring the way it shakes. His tongue darts out to nervously lick his lips. He answers, “We can do it here.”

Nikola’s eyes crinkle, his natural roseate features highlighted by the pleased twinkle. Jamal can’t help but smile back, upper teeth digging into his lower lip. He inches closer, shifting slowly.

Their faces hover next to each other, Nikola’s lips parted, gently breathing, the air between them shared. His head dips, and their lips touch. It’s barely a few seconds, but it feels like forever.

They pull away carefully but rather quickly. Jamal looks away, but his gaze finds itself trailing back up to Nikola’s face, which is stuck somewhere between calm and nonplussed. Neither of the two know what to say, if anything, but it’s clear that they’ll never see each other the same again.

January 18th, 2019

Nikola could hear the rumble of sound outside from their teammates as Jamal looks up at him, standing on the balls of his feet. Nikola mutters, “We should not do this here.”

“But you want to, huh?” The corners of Jamal’s mouth curled with his smug teasing. His grin only grows when Nikola doesn’t respond and only clenches his jaw closed tighter. 

Nikola’s voice is gruff, he huffs with disagreement and uncertainty, “They see.”

“They won’t.” Jamal reassures, more dismissive than comforting.

Nikola insists, “You not know.” If he was a different person, he’d have rolled his eyes.

Jamal leans against the door in a poor mockery of holding it closed, not particularly going to stop anything. He reaches out to tug Nikola closer, though he’s more so silently asking as Nikola has to let himself be pulled.

Nikola tilts his head down at Jamal, who’s still smiling. Nikola doesn’t let himself be charmed. 

“I don’t see why you even care?” Jamal huffs, pouting, looking somewhere between cute and childish, certainly petulant either way though. He nags like an unconvincing kid, not yet getting its way, but never one to give up.

Nikola admits, “You. I care.. you.” He knows Jamal has a future in this league, and that being caught doing this, with Nikola, would ruin that. He doesn’t worry for his job here, he has other things, a life back home. But, this is Jamal’s actual career, this is his thing.

Jamal is flustered by Nikola’s plain confession, not registering the full meaning in favor of trivial coquetry, “You care about me?”

“Yes.” Nikola says, tone implying he thought that had been obvious.

Jamal’s cheeks quirk with joy as his hands find their way to Nikola’s shoulders. He uses the larger man to hold onto as he rises onto his tippy toes. He raises his head, meeting Nikola for a brief chaste kiss.

Jamal pulls away, looking pleased with himself despite the unimpressed look Nikola has garnered. He stares down at the guard, who is expecting him to say something.

Nikola doesn’t though, he leans back down, pressing Jamal firmer onto the door. Jamal’s eyes widen before falling shut. He brushes his tongue over Nikola’s bottom lip, who opens up for him. His tongue slips into the taller’s mouth, tangling with Nikola’s own.

Jamal’s tongue runs over Nikola’s, memorizing the labyrinthine scape of his papillae. He rests there, taking in the pattern. Nikola bites softly at Jamal’s tongue, before pulling away, a thin line of spit connecting them briefly before it snaps.

Jamal chases Nikola’s mouth, not whining but certainly close emotionally. Nikola chides at him, “No more.”

Jamal doesn’t argue, he’s already won. They return to practice, but the back of his mind is still on the pleasing tingle Nikola has left on both his lips and in his heart. The imprint of Nikola still left burnt onto him, making him want the larger man even more. The fact he can’t, especially can’t here, only makes him want it more. 

August 15th, 2020

The hotel block was mostly quiet in the late hour, the ambience soft enough that Jamal could hear Nikola breathing. He had Jamal sat in his lap, legs parted and knees bent. Nikola tilted Jamal’s head up with the side of his hand, staring into irises hued sepia.

Nikola had been wanting proximity with Jamal more and more lately, some odd version of gratitude, an easier form than trying to find the words to describe it. That was a benefit to the bubble, it certainly made this easier, albeit also easier to get caught.

Nikola tries to pull Jamal closer, despite their bodies already being pressed together. He concedes to lean closer, nose to nose, foreheads against each other. Their lips move to meet like magnets, drawn naturally.

They bite at each other's lips, Jamal catching a bit of Nikola’s lip between his teeth, tugging enough to cause a spark of pain. Nikola’s mouth parts open, pulling away, only for the shorter to bring him back in. Jamal’s tongue slips into his mouth, sucking in his exhales hungrily.

They both separate, sharing gasps for air. A dash of pink comes over Nikola’s lips, savoring the taste of Jamal left over on him.

Nikola drags Jamal back, who joins back in eagerly. Their tongues dancing in tune as they come together with fervor, leaving twinkles of thrill. They attract to each other, their gravities swirling in a culmination of affection and pride for one another.

They break apart again, though not of their own volition, because they keep stealing air from one another’s lungs. Their hunger for air only dulls their brains’ reactions though. They press back together like men addicted. Dopamine races through Jamal’s brain, flooding with warmth and devotion to Nikola. His mind’s zeroed in, ardent on processing only how the window’s moonlight bounces off the larger’s skin, making it shimmer like a seashell.

When they split again, Jamal can’t help but smile. The sight of Nikola taking in sharp desperate breaths is one he finds beautiful, committing each recuperating contour and ruminating flush of his pinkened face.

Nikola blows air out of his nose, before dipping back down to graze their lips together once more. This one’s less frenzied, more contemplative, both content to just take in the other’s feeling. They’re both aware of the danger of their relationship, of doing this here. Their rivals and competition only a few rooms away. Anybody could find them like this, especially in a place so focused on monitoring the players in the moment. 

The danger breeds an excitement though, bleeding into more thrill and want. Nikola knows he should be thinking ahead, should push Jamal away and reassert the threat this poses. But, he doesn’t. He holds the shorter man close, and lets Jamal push him back to lay down on the bed, the colder sheets feel clinical against his warmed skin. He doesn’t dwell on that, though, because it’s not long before Jamal is straddling him and tugging at his clothes.

June 13th, 2023

Jamal’s face finds its place against Nikola’s neck, his nose bumping the taller’s jaw. He breathes in the natural scent of Nikola’s skin, the smell of sex in the air mixing with it in a way that’s addictive enough to make Jamal’s pulse uptick.

The adrenaline rush from the championship is only just beginning to die down, though Jamal’s brain is still reeling with repeats of ‘we did it’. Nikola’s hand thumbing his hip stops him from getting lost replaying the moment.

Nikola pulls Jamal closer to him, tipping his head down briefly, their lips touching for a second. Not long enough to be anything, but not short enough to not hook Jamal back onto Nikola’s taste.

Jamal nips at the center’s jaw, lips quickly pecking at the scruffish hair barely beginning to grow there. His mouth trails lower, paying attention to Nikola’s neck. He leaves more kisses there, pairing them with soft bites and other marks. Normally, he would never be this reckless with his affection, but technically it’s the offseason now, so he’s willing to. The recent triumph probably aiding his bravery.

Once satisfied with his claiming of Nikola’s neck, Jamal finds his shoulder, kissing softer there. The sentiment more appreciative and admiring, respecting the strength his partner has. His left arm dawdling as his fingertips run over Nikola’s skin, holding the Serbian’s arm up slightly so his face can move down to his elbow. The kiss Jamal lays there is the most modest of them all, moving swiftly to Nikola’s hand, bending his elbow for him.

Their fingers intertwined, skin tones complimenting one another like separate shades of autumn leaves, different, but undeniably better together. As Jamal’s lips finally press onto Nikola’s knuckles, their eyes meet, Jamal’s lidded, Nikola’s lit with something between fondness and annoyance. He mutters, “Go to sleep.”

The corners of Jamal’s lips quirk with enjoyment of Nikola’s deeper tired tone. He lays back down, letting go of Nikola. The larger pulls him back in, their bodies embracing gently and sleepily. Jamal’s head rests atop of Nikola’s chest, the light noise of his heartbeat slowly lulling him into rest.

April 10th, 2025

Nikola tugs Jamal into a corner of the hallway uncouthly, hands at rest on Jamal’s hips. The shorter grins, neck baring itself as he cranes his head up to Nikola, who takes Jamal’s jaw in between his thumb and pointer.

They were fully in public, anyone could walk by and see them, go tell the media, expose them for the world to see. Yet, all they could focus on was each other. Brown eyes drowning in blue ones, hand pressing onto wide chest, delighting in the rhythm of a soft heartbeat.

Nikola tips his head down, meeting where Jamal’s has been tilted up. Their lips touch, gentle for barely a second before giving into their true desire to devour one another. It’s not elegant, not meant to be, it’s them showing feelings, biting at lips, licking at the tiny bits of blood that come up, before their tongue leaves to toy with the others’. 

Nikola’s fingertips dig into Jamal’s hips, holding him like he could slip away. When they pull for air, Nikola mumbles, “Miss you.”

“I missed you too.” Jamal replies, laughter bubbling before Nikola dives back down to steal it from him. Jamal doesn’t mind, returning Nikola’s advances, hands curling up to the taller’s shoulders, holding him as he releases noises into Nikola’s open mouth.

They break again, Nikola licking his own lip, briefly thinking he can taste the difference in their blood. Jamal is more left reeling for air, huffing jokingly, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Nikola only grunts in response, pulling Jamal back in again, the noise of their nearby teammates, the ruckus serving as background noise, dulling as they focus fully on exchanging kisses aggressively. 

They only let go of each other at the noise of nearing footsteps, but they’re still pressed close when Christian Braun rounds the corner.

Christian stares at the red marks on both of their mouths, combining it with the knowledge of the position the pair were definitely in when he walked over. He pieces it together, eyes widening and jaw dropping slightly. He backs up, reconciling with the fact his teammates are dating, or at least comfortable enough to do this in the middle of the facility’s hallway.

He nods, confirming it for himself, and walking aside without a word, just a shakily left sigh, already thinking of how to get the image out of his head.

Jamal looks up at Nikola, who doesn’t look bothered. Jamal doubts Christian will tell, considering how perturbed he clearly is, but he feels that even if he did, he wouldn’t mind.

January 29th, 2026

Both Nikola and Jamal were on the bench, a rare sight on such a dependent team. To be fair, they were playing the Brooklyn Nets, who weren’t putting up much of a fight, the risk of an MPJ revenge game squashed ages ago. The clock ticked down, the Nuggets’ lead already long sealed. Fourth quarter, eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

Foul called on Jonas Valančiūnas. Ziaire Williams at the free throw line, Jamal’s eyes landing on Aaron Gordon’s, who was at the side, in the lane spaces. Aaron met his briefly, not able to read the point guard's mind.

The game went back into action, Jamal’s head turns shortly, looking instead at where Nikola was on his left. His breathing deep from being on the court, occasionally sipping from the brightly colored bottle in his hand. An idea forms in Jamal’s head, a bad one, no doubt, but certainly an intriguing one.

Jamal turns back to the game, the thought still swirling in his brain. Seven minutes and fourty-nine. He makes his decision, besides, knowing Nikola, he won’t care all that much. Reputation’s not really his expertise.

Seven minutes and twenty-two. He scoots closer to Nikola, now sitting shoulder to shoulder. He tilts back over to the Serbian, arching his head up. He presses in until his mouth is on Nikola’s, who leans into the kiss without thinking.

The two stay like that, Jamal tasting the artificial citrus-y tang from the orange sports drink. He pulls away with one last lick of Nikola’s lips. A soft smile finds its way onto his face, happy with himself as he rests against his center.

Six minutes and fifty-eight. Jamal’s eyes trail back up to the game. Aaron is wide-eyed and staring at him as he runs back on defense. A smirk curves onto Jamal’s face, enjoying his teammate’s reaction.

But, then the jumbotron replayed the play from moments earlier, catching the bench in the corner of the frame. That’s when the crowd noticed, birthing shocked noises as the other players saw too. A familiar voice from the Net’s bench calls out, “Man, I fuckin’ knew it!”