9. Noah

What just happened?

I'm fixated on the spot on the floor where we were just wrestling. Our limbs were tangled around each other, and we were having a good time. A very good time. Too good of a time.

I should have said something to him. Anything other than practically dismissing him by asking about the meditation track. I should have reassured him, but I was too busy having my own internal crisis about why I"m not upset or disgusted.

All sense of reason left me the moment he got that shark look in his eyes and tackled me. He might have been innocently playing around, but I'm not sure that's where my mind was.

My head jerks up at the sound of something hitting Lane"s door. I get up and walk quietly over, pressing my ear to the wood. I"m not trying to snoop. I"m worried he"s in there freaking out.

But he"s definitely not freaking out. Holy fuck. He"s…

My cock twitches, and I press my palm down on the bulge of my pants.

Lane"s quick, soft pants and the jostling of the door make it obvious what he"s doing in there. I should give him privacy. I definitely shouldn"t be standing here with my ear pressed against the door, listening to him jerk off.

I can"t pull myself away. Before I know it, my hand is wrapped around my cock, pumping it in time with his breaths. When he speeds up, he makes this barely perceptible choking sound. It's the same sound he always makes right before he comes.

"Yes," I whisper. "Come for me. Say my name."

He doesn"t say my name. But he does come. He comes with a barely suppressed groan and a gasp of surprise, like he didn"t know that"s how jerking off ends. It"s dumb, but endearing. Hearing it tips me over the edge. I whip off my t-shirt to catch the mess, stroking my orgasm out with my face pressed against my stepbrother"s bedroom door.

Once I catch my breath and come down from the high, I realize what a precarious position I"m in and how it would look if he opened his door right now. It would look exactly like what it is, and that"s not a good look for me. I back away slowly, tiptoeing to the bathroom to clean myself up. I don"t take a full shower because I'm sure Lane is waiting for me to either leave or go into my room before he braves the hallway to clean himself up.

Once I"ve wiped away the remnants of cum from my body and freshened up, I go to my room, shutting the door a little louder than I normally would. A minute later, I hear him exit his room and go into the bathroom. After pulling on some clothes and waiting for the sound of the shower to cut on, I sneak out of the apartment to grab us dinner. The last thing either of us needs is another rough night of Lane passing out from a combination of low blood sugar and stress. There"s only one of those things I can fix for him right now.

When I get back to the apartment, I notice Lane has rolled up the mats and placed them neatly in the corner of the sitting room. I tap lightly on his door to let him know I got dinner, and hang the plastic bag on his doorknob before retreating into my room. I don"t close my door all the way, in case he feels like talking about it.

I hear his door open, and the crinkle of the plastic bag being removed from the door handle. A minute later, he sends me a text.

Lane: Thanks.

Noah: No problem.

I"m sure he"s going to come in at any point and assure me he isn"t gay, or that he found an article in a medical journal that explains the physiological reason for spontaneous erections.

He has a habit of looking everything up, reading every bit of knowledge about whatever subject he"s curious about. His wide-eyed wonder over learning has never failed to fascinate me, even when he gets on my nerves. I wonder if it"s a byproduct of living in an environment that strictly prohibited any sort of outside influence, like the internet or books that weren"t approved by the church. He struggled a lot with science when he first started high school. I"ll never forget the day we went to a national history museum on a class trip and he saw a fossil in real life. It was like his entire world was crumbling. I didn't understand what he was freaking out over until my dad explained just how sheltered he was. After that, he"d come home with stacks of books from the library. We ended up getting smartphones for Christmas solely so he could constantly have access to the internet to look up random facts. I think it was the only time he looked happy to be participating in the holidays.

I eat my sandwich while looking through social media, and eventually find myself reading a thread about the raid on Lane's childhood home. They're calling it the ‘Deliverance Cult,' and there are all kinds of conspiracy theories about what happened there. One of them says they bombed an abortion clinic. Another suggests they have links to domestic terrorism. There are multiple threads about the church being vehemently anti-gay. Violently anti-gay. I don't know if any of the conspiracies are true, but that last one would make sense.

There"s a soft click of a door being opened, and I hastily shut my laptop like I'm about to get caught looking at something I shouldn't. I listen to Lane's soft footsteps as he shuffles into the kitchen to throw his trash away.

Because I have a problem with being impulsive, I run out into the hallway, knocking my desk chair over as I go. Lane stops on his way back to his bedroom and stares at me with wide eyes.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yep. Just throwing my trash away," I say, holding it up as proof.

He nods. "Well, goodnight. Thanks again for dinner."

Before he can open his door, I stop him. "It"s still early. Would you want to watch a movie or something?"

"I"m good, thanks." He pauses. "Maybe another time," he says, but I think he"s only saying it to be polite.

"I'll hold you to that," I say, and he looks confused. I pinch the outside of my leg for being a damn coward. "Wait. Lane!"

He"s halfway through his door when he turns around warily.

"What, Noah?" His voice is low and leery.

"I just wanted to say… Don"t worry about, you know, what happened earlier. It happens all the time. Totally normal."

He looks simultaneously terrified and surprised that I would bring it up at all. Am I really so much of an asshole that he"d expect me to laugh at him or something?

Okay, that would be fair.

"Let's just pretend it didn't happen, okay?" I say, trying desperately to make a peace offering.

I'm not sure if he believes me, but he nods. He looks relieved when I finally let him slip into his room and close the door. I stare at it, tracing the grains of wood that show through the white paint.