| |
Noah was in Hell. That was the only explanation for why he was up early and having brunch with his brothers and Eli's fiancée instead of being passed out, face down, until a normal time like any decent human being.
Beside him, Liam kicked his foot under the table. Meryl had said something—Noah had registered her lips moving, the coral lipstick she wore bright against her winter pale skin—but for the life of him he couldn't remember a single syllable of it. At her side, Eli sipped a Bloody Mary with all the serenity he possessed. No help there. Liam was no help either. Bruising Noah's foot was all he could be counted on for. Cue cards would be a little too obvious.
Noah cranked the wattage on his smile as he said, "Could you repeat that?" and tried to look engaged instead of like he was about to escape this mortal coil.
The restaurant was full of people wearing pastel colors and pleated khakis, drinking expensive Bloody Marys with crisp bacon or celery waving like flags, and here he was with circles under his eyes and skinny jeans that still had paint on them from when he'd backed into one of Tyler's wet paintings. Noah's entire left leg looked like Picasso's blue period at a disco, but if he played it cool people usually assumed it was meant to. Maybe not these people. But people. His people. If he had known what kind of place he was being dragged to, he would have worn something else.
He'd nearly swallowed his tongue at the prices listed on the drink menu. He'd forgotten how much vodka went for when he didn't drink it straight from the bottle while sitting on the floor of his apartment. This was not even in the vicinity of his usual kind of place.
"I know. It's a little louder in here than I was expecting. I'm glad we were able to get a table so quickly. You're not too cramped are you? I think it's kind of cozy," Meryl said. Smiling. She really was one of the most inoffensive people Noah had ever met. It made him want to please her. "But I was saying, I know we haven't spoken much but I'd like us to be friends. You're Eli's family and I know that means a lot to him." She squeezed Eli's hand on the table as she spoke.
Before Noah could guffaw, Liam kicked him again under the table in warning.
Eli finally put down his drink to fix him with a smile. He didn't look pissed off. In fact, Eli looked happier than Noah had ever seen him. Still taciturn in the extreme but with an undercurrent of downy soft contentment. It was hard to square this new Eli with the old one that snapped at him for being late at holidays and not washing dishes after dinner. The one who had thrown out Noah's favorite movie as a child because he'd "watched it too much already." Noah had retaliated by replacing the mayonnaise in his sandwiches with glue but that was beside the point. That Eli would have been appalled by this one.
"That's very kind of you," Noah said. He tried to match their smiles with one of his own. It wasn't entirely successful.
"And then Liam was showing me some of your pictures. They're so beautiful."
This time it was Noah doing the kicking. Liam bore it with grace, barely even giving away that Noah had caught him on the ankle bone. His whole leg was probably ringing.
"It's true," Liam said. Like a traitor.
"You're very talented."
Lies, whispered the little voice, so suddenly that Noah almost flinched. She's lying to you.
"Thank you."
Her lips kept moving, her hands gesturing animatedly. She often talked with her hands, Noah had noticed, and the engagement ring on her finger winked at him like a sly eye when she did. Eli had gotten her a marquise cut diamond. Bad move. Those got caught on everything. No sweater would be safe from the menace of its prongs.
Noah focused on her mouth instead. It was easier to remember the words she had spoken when he saw them forming one at a time. He could rewind the memory if he had to, walk it back until he could guess at what she had said and whether he needed to answer.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Liam's appraising looks. They only made Noah feel worse. He just needed to focus. On what Meryl was saying and whether the smile she was offering now was as genuine as the one from five minutes ago—had she noticed his pauses? He didn't think so. It was fine. The feeling creeping up his spine was just a nuisance, but the more he tried to ignore it the louder it got. As though it was angry at being ignored. That spiteful little shit.
Eli started talking about their honeymoon plans—a trip to... somewhere. He laughed. Meryl laughed. Liam laughed. They were going to figure out he wasn't listening and when they did Eli would be mad. He would yell. He hadn't yelled in years, but he would yell for this. And everything would be ruined.
Noah forced out a laugh. Too late. They had already stopped.
Meryl frowned. "Are you all right?"
"Excuse me." Noah stood from his chair and escaped to the bathroom.
His reflection in the mirror was a horror show. It proclaimed him witness to a murder and next on the killer's list. Just add charismatic detective. Noah hoped the detective had a beard and a penchant for fucking the damsels he was supposed to be saving. That would fix everything. Sex always made him feel better.
His hands tightened on the counter.
"Fucking get it together."
Water splashed over his face helped a little. The shock of cold made him gasp, a shiver dancing down his spine, unwinding all the muscles he had tensed unconsciously.
It would be fine. He could pretend to be a well-adjusted human being for another hour until everyone had finished their scrambled eggs and coffee. He could put on the face they needed. He could say the right things. He could do whatever it took.
And then he could go home and melt away.
Just for a little while.
*****
WEST SKIDDED TO A HALT in the door of the coffee shop. Noah sat at his usual table, one knee relentlessly bouncing as he hunched over his phone. The other jean clad leg stuck out from under the table like a speed bump, but he didn't seem to notice. West had the ridiculous urge to flee. He could come back when he was prepared for seeing Noah. This was the first time they'd seen each other outside the studio in weeks and he didn't know how to act around him or what was expected. In public. Now that he knew what it felt like to come on Noah's hand while he was tied up like a kinky Christmas present. That was almost definitely inappropriate in this situation.
But maybe a kiss? Did they kiss? Should they be people that kissed in greeting?
In public. With people present. Watching.
Every permutation of greeting West came up with seemed too intimate suddenly.
West's foot slid backwards towards freedom.
Noah looked up. His eyes were blank even after he spotted West in the doorway, recognition sinking in as slow as spring thaw. When it did, he noted how West was standing and his eyes turned sad.
The resignation in that look unstuck West's feet from the floor. He went forward instead of backward.
"Is this chair taken?"
"No, uh, go ahead. Sit wherever you like." Noah put down his phone and sat up straighter. "Do you want a drink? Your usual? I can get it." His smile looked ready to break the skin. He struggled to push his chair back.
West put a hand on his wrist. "Stay. I'll get it." He nodded at Noah's empty mug. "Do you want anything?"
He shook his head.
"Be right back."
For once there was a line at the register. West glared at the order board while he waited. Concern churned in his stomach, the vague formless feeling that something was wrong and he should fix it. He wasn't used to that feeling being attached to Noah. It was always Charlotte he'd taken care of, but she was family. Family took care of family. Mostly.
The line cleared and West stepped up to order. The girl behind the counter had been there before when he'd come in. Noah had talked to her like they were friends.
"Hi, a cappuccino and..." He glanced back towards the table. Noah had slumped forward again, curling up like a man punched in the stomach. "And um, I was going to get... do you know what Noah orders? I thought maybe—"
"A mocha," she finished for him with a smile. "Extra whipped cream." She rang up the order. "That it?"
"Yeah. That's it. Just those two."
He felt her gaze on him as he collected the drinks and headed back towards the table. What the hell was he doing?
Noah sat up at his return, confusion coloring his features as West set the drink in front of him.
"I thought you might need this after all."
"Oh. Thanks. I can pay you back—"
"You don't have to pay me back."
"Oh. I..." He shook his head. "Thank you." He wrapped his hands around the mug. Exhaustion tugged at the corners of his eyes and his mouth. The smile he'd put on kept flattening out before he fixed it again. In between those moments he became blank. West wasn't used to seeing nothing in Noah's face. He looked like a different person.
West wanted to ask what was wrong, but something held him back. It was intrusive. Except they had been tangled up together, naked, only a couple days ago and what could be more intrusive than that? But was it his place? They weren't dating. Or friends. West had no name for whatever they were. It bothered him more than he liked. He took a considering sip of his cappuccino.
"Charlotte told me to say hi," West said. She'd said it weeks ago, but the timing didn't really seem to matter right now.
"Oh yeah?" The smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes was real even if the one before it hadn't been. "Hi to her too. She's a sweetheart."
"Yeah, she is. She wanted me to ask where you got some coat you were wearing too, but I don't really know what she was talking about. Something with hearts? I forgot before." West took another sip from his mug and cleared his throat.
Noah shrugged. "I have a lot of hearts."
The awkward conversation dragged into equally awkward silence while West drained his cup and Noah's extra whipped cream slowly melted into the surface of his mocha and dripped down the side. West wiped it up with a napkin.
"You know, you don't actually have to sit here with me if you don't want to. I won't be hurt," Noah said.
But he would be. It was written in every line of his body.
"Do you want me to go?"
He was silent for a moment. "No."
"Then I'll stay." West folded his arms. "And you can stop pretending like you're fine. Tell me what's wrong."
Noah’s face cycled through expressions before settling on one. Confusion. Noah opened his mouth. Closed it again. Finally he shook his head. "Do you want to get out of here?"
"I just got here. And you haven't finished your coffee."
Noah looked down. For a moment a smile curved his lips. "I was asking if you want to go back to my place. Or yours. I'm not picky."
"Oh." He swallowed. A very particular kind of panic crawled up his throat. And anticipation. There was that too. "But it's not even dark out."
Noah leaned forward, one hand settling over West's on the table, a fine tremor in his fingers like touching a live wire. He met West's eyes with an intensity he usually reserved for photography. "Okay. Let me be even clearer. I'm inviting you to my place, right now, because I want to fuck and I'd like it to be with you. As long and as hard as possible. Do you want that, yes or no?"
"Yes."
West wasn't sure which of them was more surprised at that answer. That didn't mean he was taking it back.
"Good." Noah stood, taking a quick swallow from the mocha West had bought him before he walked it and West's empty to the bin. "Come on."
West let himself be pulled out the door, only resisting when Noah turned to head down the street.
"What? I live this way."
"My car is right here." He gestured in the opposite direction. In a bit of unexpected luck, he had found a parking spot only a few doors down from the coffee shop. Noah came back to his side.
"Oh my fucking God, you have a Beemer."
"Shut up it was my father's."
"Was? Is he dead?"
"No, now shut up and get in." West unlocked the door and shoved Noah into the passenger side. "Do you need me to buckle your belt too?" he muttered.
Noah looked up at him, a little of the usual light coming back into his eyes, and lifted his arms. "Please."
West slammed the door on him.
"That was rude," Noah said in mock disapproval once West slid into the driver's seat.
"Where do you live?"
Noah told him. It really was close. West didn't even have enough time to get nervous about what the hell he had just agreed to before they were pulling up outside.
He didn't do this sort of thing. He'd never done this sort of thing. Except with Noah. Noah just made everything seem so easy. And God he wanted things to be easy right now.
West barely saw anything of the building before Noah had him by the collar and was kissing him against the closed door of his apartment.
"I've been thinking about this for days," he whispered against West's lips. There was a clink as West's belt came undone and Noah's hand slid inside. "How do you want it?"
West groaned as Noah stroked him almost to hardness. His head pressed back against the door. "Bedroom. Now please."
He smirked at the please. "Your wish is my command."
Noah didn't let go of him, maneuvering by memory, as he pulled West along with the strength of his kiss, sucking at his lips and his tongue so he couldn't have spoken if he'd wanted to. One hand so tight on his ass that West was sure it would bruise. If he had to find his way back to the door he would never make it. His memory was blotted out by the tongue tracing his lips and the teeth scraping along his jaw as Noah tipped his head back and sucked a mark into his throat. For all he knew Noah's apartment was an endless maze of corridors and Noah's fingers encircling his cock, stroking just slow enough to make him dizzy with need.
Noah spilled them both onto the bed. He straddled West, rising up only long enough to tear off his own shirt and throw it away. It landed beside a window, catching on a guitar case before sliding to the floor. The room was dim, the blinds angled to throw shafts of light on the ceiling. A collection of black and white photos hung on the wall beside the door. West barely got to look at them before Noah blotted out the view again.
"You can snoop later, sweetheart."
"I'm not snooping."
"You're always snooping. For someone who wouldn't even tell me his phone number you're awfully nosy." He caught West's chin. "But I'm not done with you yet. Snoop later."
"I'm not snooping," West growled, silencing anymore arguments with a tug at Noah's fly. He was bare beneath and already half hard. West pushed the denim out of the way so he could get his hands where he wanted them. This time there was nothing stopping him.
Noah let out a shuddering breath. "Shit yeah." He stilled, eyes half closed, as West worked him. "Just like that. Just like that, sweetheart." He hung over West, propped up on shaking arms before dropping down for another kiss, breathing hard. "Get your pants off."
West shoved them down his thighs, struggling to work his legs free while Noah was on top of him.
"Now yours."
Noah straightened to pull them off, eyes never leaving West as he pushed his jeans down and kicked them off. There were more tattoos on his sides that West hadn't seen before, little patches of black ink like sprays of flowers. He stroked himself lazily with one hand as he stood and let West look his fill, eyes dark. Shameless as his head dropped back. Drawing out a groan as he touched himself. His body was all lean muscle and ink, a dusting of hair on his chest narrowing down to where his hand wrapped his cock, each stroke making it bob. It was so thick West could already feel it in his throat. Noah reached into the bedside table. A condom and lube hit the bed beside West before he climbed back up.
West grinned at him. "I was half expecting handcuffs."
"Those are in a different drawer. Why? You want them?"
West eyed the dresser against the wall, trying to guess which one they were in. "Maybe next time." He dragged Noah back down to him. Latched onto his ear with gentle teeth. "But I'd rather they were for you, not me."
"Oh." Noah's voice came out hoarse and transformed into a hiss as West bit his neck. "That's good too. I like that idea."
"I figured."
Noah ground against him, kneading West's ass with rough hands as he held them together. West moaned. Now that he'd said it, he couldn't help imagining what else they might do. It made it hotter somehow, knowing that whatever he asked for, Noah would give it to him just the way he wanted. But what he wanted right now was more of the cock pressed against his hip. He wanted every thick inch of it. He reached between them to wrap a hand around Noah. "I want you so much."
Noah claimed his mouth in a deeper kiss, tongue filling him the way his cock would be soon. "Now?"
He'd been ready before they even made it to the bed. Any readier and he would be dead. "Hurry."
"Then get on your knees like a good boy." He said that but he didn't release his grip on West so he could comply. He pressed him into the bed, kissing his way down West's chest until he found a nipple to worship. West writhed beneath him. "I love to look at you like this."
"I'd look better with you inside me," West said when he tried to turn and Noah pushed him down for the third time.
Noah laughed and bent to his other nipple. "But they don't match." He flicked the reddened nub he'd left behind with one finger and West gasped. He'd left it over sensitized, ringed by bruises and bites, and every touch was fire.
"Oh you asshole." When he started in on the other nipple, West would have curled in on himself if he could have. Noah held him in place. Pressing him down with his body, one hand cradling his neck. It felt good, floating somewhere between pleasure and pain. "Hurry up." He clawed at Noah's back and shoulders. He wasn't sure if he was pushing or pulling. It didn't matter as long as he got what he wanted.
West surged up, dragging Noah into a kiss. It was messy and desperate and needy. "Stop playing and fuck me."
Noah's smile was absolutely feral. "You say the sweetest things to me." He kissed the tip of West's nose. "Ass up. Now."
"Finally." West had the ridiculous urge to laugh as he scrambled over onto his stomach.
Noah dragged his hips up. He spread West wide, nudging his knees farther apart. "This ass. Gorgeous."
Noah worked his ass and his cock with both hands, massaging and stroking, lubed fingers stretching him until West was straining and moaning helplessly. His back arched as he tried to move against the fingers in him. The angle dragged his nipples against the sheets and made him moan even harder. He would be feeling that for hours.
"I'm going to get you back for that."
"I'd like to see you try."
Noah pushed into him and West forgot whatever else he'd meant to say. The cry he let out could have rattled windows and shattered glass. Noah echoed it. Completed it. A husky counterpoint to every sound that West made as they moved together. Faster. Harder. Chasing that edge of pain and pleasure. There couldn't be anything better than this.
He came apart like that. With Noah's hands pulling pleasure out of him like a ribbon, mouth against his ear, murmuring his need like a confession. Everything else disappeared.
*****
WEST ACHED. ALL OF it was in a good way. The sweat cooling on his skin raised goosebumps in its wake.
Noah stretched, a groan dragged out of him, as he rolled onto his side and started kissing and nibbling his way along West's shoulder. "Shit, sweetheart. I needed that." His sigh blew over every spot he'd just kissed. "I needed that so much. But I think I'm dead now."
"You can't be dead if you're still talking."
Noah paused in his progress around West's collarbone to laugh. Then he wrapped an arm around him and pulled them flush against each other. His dick fit neatly against West too now that it was soft. For the moment. West was tempted to reach back and stroke a little life into it. He didn't.
His eyes fell on Noah's arm embracing him. A ray of the sun tattoo on his wrist peeked out from between them. He'd seen it before. The tattoo was small, barely more than an inch across, a stylized sun whose rays were unbroken by even a wisp of cloud. West rolled onto his back and lifted Noah's arm to inspect it. "What's this tattoo for?"
Noah followed his gaze. "It's a sun."
"I knew that," West said dryly. He ran a thumb down the lines of ink.
"Are you trying to unlock my tragic back story, sweetheart? Is that what this is?"
"I don't know what that means."
Noah sighed. He held up his arm, flexing his fist so the sun on his wrist stretched taut. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "The sun always rises. That's what it's for. No matter what happens, the sun is always there tomorrow and I can try again." He stared at the tattoo another minute before he dropped his arm heavily back to the bed. "They're not all that deep though, in case you were wondering. I have a gold star on my ass because I was drunk and it was funny at the time."
"You should have put the gold star here instead," West muttered, one hand brushing over Noah's dick.
Noah blinked. "Did you just... make a dirty joke?"
"No."
"You definitely did."
"Shut up," West laughed.
"Was that your first dirty joke? Aww my baby's all grown up." Noah clung to him, attacking his neck with kisses. "I'm so proud. We should celebrate."
West pushed at him, but it wasn't long before he was kissing Noah back in between the laughter, happy in a way he hadn't been in years. Maybe ever. He felt like a dam that had finally cracked and broken, spilling over with contentment. There wasn't the need to rush somewhere like there was in the studio. No worries about what came after. And when Noah rolled West beneath him, he went, still laughing.
*****
NOAH'S STOMACH GROWLED, loud in the silence that came after a frankly breathtaking blowjob. He'd really outdone himself that time, if he was being honest. West's moans had reached a fever pitch. His muscles clenching so tight that Noah had been prepared to die, strangled between those thighs. If he had to go, that's how he wanted it to happen. Doing what he loved.
But they made it through all right. West had come and eventually Noah had remembered how to breathe.
Then his stomach had ruined it by growling like an angry bear.
"We should get up," West said. Blearily. His arm lifted and then fell back down on the pillow beside him.
"Shhhh. You didn't hear anything." Noah pulled him closer so he couldn't get away, wrapping him in a hug that pinned his arms to his sides when he began to struggle. It worked like magic. West sagged back into him almost immediately and Noah tucked his head into his neck so he could enjoy the scent of him, hot and sweaty and well fucked. He made a mental note to suggest rope the next time. The only thing better than a struggling West was a struggling and restrained West.
His traitorous stomach made another discontented gurgle. He hadn't eaten since brunch earlier and they'd probably burned off the last of that hours ago.
"You're hungry. You should eat. I don't know what time it is but it must be close to dinner by now." West pointed towards the darkening window with one still pinned arm.
"Or, counter offer, how about you roll over and let me eat your ass instead? Then we'll both be happy."
"Stop joking."
"I'm not joking." He nipped at West's neck, making another mark beside the ones he'd already left.
West groaned and turned into his kiss. Then he shoved Noah backward so hard he almost fell off the bed. West was up, looking triumphant, before he'd recovered. Somehow, he'd already found his pants and was stepping into them. Goodbye, beautiful ass. "Oh look at that, you're up."
"That's cheating." Noah grumbled as he sat up, watching the reverse strip tease as West hunted down the rest of his clothes.
"You need to get up and eat. I'm hungry too. Get dressed."
Noah stayed where he was as West padded out of the room. "Get back in here."
He lasted a minute before he followed.
West hadn't gone far. He leaned against the wall in the hall with his arms folded over his chest. He darted a look down Noah's body. It never stopped being adorable how shy he got once the clothes went back on. West during sex and West any other time were like two completely different people. But shit he liked them both.
"You're not dressed."
Noah mimicked his stance. "Nope."
West peeked one more time before he turned away. "Show me your apartment. I didn't get to see it the first time."
"There isn't much to it. You've seen the bedroom, by far the best feature I have to offer, bathroom is over there, but you already know that—" he pointed at the partially open door as he passed, stepping around West to take the lead "—and here we have the combination living room/office/kitchen." He spread his arms to take in the whole room, the cheap black laminate desk bisecting the living space backed by the shelves holding his books and the TV (also handed down from Liam). Then he arranged himself in repose on the couch and patted the cushions. "Come here."
"You just want me to go over there so you can distract me," West said. He'd stopped beside the desk, one hand resting on the back of the chair like he intended to sit.
"Yep."
West barely glanced at him before he moved over to the wall of photos that spread between the two narrow windows. "Are these all yours?"
"Older work but yes. Anything I don't sell gets popped out of a frame and replaced or it goes on the wall. It's easier than storing a hundred frames for a rainy day."
The walls were his cast-off gallery, the ones he loved even when no one else did. A few of them went all the way back to high school when he'd lived off grainy filters and shots taken with his phone on the way to class.
"They're good." West had paused before a photo hung low on the left. Noah knew which one it was without even getting closer. He'd caught Liam unawares one day while they were out by the lake. In the sun, Liam's curls became a labyrinth of textures and Noah had joked that the frown line between his eyebrows made him look like a tortured Byronic genius. "Who's that?"
"My brother, Liam. You would know him better as the asshole who smacked me in the head the day you and I met. You would like him. You can talk books and complain about me. You probably have similar grievances."
West frowned at him.
"What?"
"Why do you do that?"
Noah raised his eyebrows, finally relenting and sitting up. "What exactly?"
"You talk about yourself like you're a nuisance."
He laughed once but it felt like sandpaper. "Sweetheart, I am a nuisance. You hated me when we first met. And it's fine, I'm fine with it. I was an asshole. Hell, I'm a bigger nuisance to myself than anyone. And it drives me crazy that I can't just..." He sighed. Now that he'd remembered it, the feeling crashed into him again in waves. Just like earlier. "I went out with my family this morning, my brothers—I've got two by the way—and Eli's fiancée and she's this delicate flower petal of a person. Sweet. And she smiles. She smiles so much. I don't even know why she was so happy to see me. And all I could think the entire time we were sitting there was that one day this sweet person might be disappointed in me too. She might loathe the sight of me. I barely know her, but I would be devastated. Because that's what happens. That's what always happens. I fuck things up."
He held up his wrist, tattoo out so that West could see it as he waved it around. "So I got this, like I said. Because maybe someday that won't happen. Maybe someday I'll manage not to fuck up the things I want."
West hadn't spoken, hadn't said anything or moved a muscle, and all of a sudden Noah couldn't see as the tension drove a knife through his skull. It happened so fast that he gasped, head dropping into shaking hands, as he tried to rub away the pain. "Ah, fuck." Swearing didn't help but he did it again anyway. His voice was fuzzy in his ears as he rocked in place.
That whole big speech and he'd only served to prove himself right. West would see him on the couch naked and shaking and he would leave too. Everything ruined again. He should have stayed in bed.
He pressed harder at his temples, trying to rub away the electric twitch boring its way beneath his skin.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
He dragged in a breath of too thin air and let it slither back out again. It didn't help but it was a start.
A hand touched his shoulder. He flinched before he realized it was West. Looking concerned. Fuck.
"Are you...?"
Noah dropped his head and closed his eyes so he could sort his heartbeat and his breath back into order. He pointed towards his desk. "Over there. The blue ball thing. I need it. Please."
He relaxed once it was placed in his hand, kneading it while he breathed in one lungful of air after another. His head hurt like a bitch.
The couch cushion depressed as West perched beside him.
"I'm fine," Noah said. Still kneading and breathing. Kneading and breathing. He liked it better when he could throw the ball at the wall but that was better done when he was alone. People got twitchy when you threw things around them. He couldn't blame them.
"You don't look fine."
"I'm used to it. It's handled." He held up the ball clutched in his hand, fingers still digging deep into the surface as he squeezed. "I have my magical blue ball and I'm doing my deep breathing. Everything is peachy. Or will be once this fucking headache goes away. Anxiety can kiss my ass."
"Do you need anything else?"
Noah chanced a look. West was still there. Still looking concerned but not running for the hills. Ah, fuck it. "Can I put my head in your lap?" He didn't have to work for the poor sad waif tone.
West scooted further onto the cushion to allow room. Noah dropped like a rock.
"You're not a nuisance," West said in a low voice.
"I know that. Wait. Correction: I'm trying to know that. But it's not that easy sometimes." He kept his eyes closed. West stroked his hair. It began tentatively—a ghost of sensation—before he grew comfortable. "Mmm, that feels good." Noah leaned into the touch. "It's harder to turn it off with all this wedding shit going on. And the show. They're all expecting things from me and I know it doesn't sound like a lot, but it feels huge. There's just... so much. I should be able to handle it. I can handle it." If he kept saying it he might start to believe it. It hadn't happened yet, but he also believed in optimism. That hadn't quite worked for him yet either.
"And I didn't hate you."
Noah snorted so hard it sent fresh pain ricocheting through his head. "Yes, you did."
"Fine, I did. And you deserved it. But you don't anymore. You haven't for a long time." His voice was so soft that Noah almost missed it. Each word matched the delicate brush of West's fingers over his scalp. "Your family reminds me of mine."
"Oh? You never talk about them. Except your sister. I was starting to think you sprang out of the earth full grown like Venus. No, wait. It was a clam. Or sea foam? Is that Venus or the Little Mermaid. Maybe it's both."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." West coughed and turned his face away, but Noah caught the slip of a smile on his lips.
"I'm not making this up, okay. It's a painting. She's on a shell. It's Botticelli. Look it up."
"I believe you."
"It's a real thing," Noah insisted sullenly.
"I know."
"Look it up."
"I will." He blew out a breath and his expression went dark as a blackout on a moonless night. "I don't like talking about my family. My brother, Reese, he's in town. He has been for a few weeks. When he's here it's like I can feel him around every corner. Waiting. Which is obviously silly, but I'll be happier when he's gone. Anywhere else but here." He winced and shook his head. "I'm not supposed to say that though, am I?"
"Why not?"
"Because we're family. I love my family," he said. Emphatically. Almost desperately. It was a desperation Noah knew all too well. "But it's easier to love most of them when they're not around. My brother and my parents, they don't know me. They don't know who I am. And they make me feel like I don't know myself. That's why I don't talk about them. Because this is my space. You're my space. And I don't want them here in my space."
West wasn't even looking at him. Instead, his gaze was focused on the wall displaying Noah's photos. His expression flat but not empty, more like resting, as if he was as soothed by stroking Noah's hair as Noah was by the stroking.
And Noah loved him. He loved West. He must have for a while, the feeling slipping into his cracks when he wasn't paying attention and blooming up like a daisy through broken concrete.
Well shit.
*****
THE REST OF THE NIGHT was dedicated to a panoply of absolutely mundane domesticity. West ordered food and they sat on Noah's couch to eat it then curled up beneath a blanket to watch a movie on his laptop. Noah woke again to an elbow jabbing him in the side and the end credits.
"You didn't like it, did you?" West asked wryly.
"No. No, it was..." Noah yawned and ruined any complaint he could have made.
"We could have watched something else if you wanted."
Noah snuggled closer. He'd fallen over West as he slept and he planned to enjoy the situation for as long as possible. The closeness. The warmth. The buzz of tension was finally ebbing and replacing it was buttery soft contentment. He leaned up to kiss West's cheek. "No, sweetheart. I liked it. I'm just tired. Once the anxiety backlash kicks in, I usually crash for a few hours. We can watch it again sometime. I'm always here for Cary Grant getting tied up and I promise I won't fall asleep on round two."
"Fine, but if you do there'll be a penalty."
"I like the sounds of that. Is it a spanking?"
West shoved him off, but he was laughing. "No."
"Well that's a pity."
West glanced at his phone. "It's getting late. I should probably..." He trailed off, eyes still lowered, not looking at his phone anymore.
"Stay," Noah said. "If you want." His heart hammered in his chest. There were more words on his tongue and it would be so easy to speak them into reality, so quick to lay everything out, to serve up his heart on a platter. But he didn't. Instead he said, "It's been a long day and I could use the company. I would like the company."
Indecision was written large across West's face. "If you're sure." Despite what he'd said he still sat stiff as a tin soldier.
Noah's touch grazed along West's bicep and down his forearm, outlining each tendon on the back of his hand before he twined their fingers together. "I am."
"Then okay."