22. Lane

Tension melts off me like wax from a candle as we catch our breaths.

"Sorry," Noah huffs, pushing himself up to move off me.

"No. Stay." It"s a quiet request, one I"m not interested in thinking too hard about. The weight of Noah"s body is grounding me, comforting me in a way that I"ve not experienced before.

Usually, the guilt sets in almost as soon as the high wears off, but this time, the high stays. I feel… satiated. Secure. Safe. Noah adjusts so he's more comfortable, and I know I"ll eventually have to let him get up, but I"m too comfortable to even consider it right now.

Somewhere between the orgasm high, my stress rattled brain, and the sleep threatening to pull me down, I"ve entered a new headspace. I feel weightless. Not brave, but not afraid. Not angry, but not sad. Not happy, either. I just am. And it's freeing. Just being me, with no faults or accolades, no judgements or expectations. I"d float away if not for the weight of Noah"s body.

I"m vaguely aware of a slight tickling sensation on my stomach. I reluctantly crack open an eye to find Noah tracing patterns through the mess on my stomach.

"Who"s the cum slut now?" I ask groggily.

He lifts his head to stare at me, wide eyed. "Are you high?"

Is this what being high feels like?I close my eyes and lay my head back, pulling Noah"s head back to my chest before dropping my arm to the mattress.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Noah asks hesitantly.

"What is there to talk about?"

"Uh, a lot, actually."

"You talk. I'm going to rest my eyes," I say, the pull of sleep submerging the edges of consciousness.

"Oookay." Noah sounds uncertain, which is unlike him. It piques my interest enough to stay awake and listen to what he says, but he"s quiet for a long time.

"I"m jealous of Danny," he admits in a small whisper. "Not just because he"s, well, him, and you"re you. But because he has more in common with you." It feels like there"s more to that, but I"m too floaty to dig into it. It seems safer to just exist on the edges of truth, anyway.

"I was jealous of Maci," I say, deciding to reciprocate the confession. But my floaty mind takes it too far, and I word vomit a lot of truths that I"ll probably regret later. "I was jealous because you wanted her. Because you fit together."

"You dated her for almost two years," he replies dryly.

"Only to throw people off. You were the one she really wanted. I think she thought it might get her closer to you."

"That"s fucked up, I"m sorry."

I shrug. "We were aware that we were using each other. It was never something we said out loud, but she knew, and I knew." I sigh, wondering how much she knew. If she knew I wanted Noah, too. "She"s a good person, though."

"Why did you feel you had to do that? Pretend, I mean."

A deep breath inflates my chest and abdomen, and slowly releases. Calm. There"s nothing but calm.

"The place I grew up in was… not accepting." Understatement of the century.

Noah doesn"t stir or speak, encouraging me to keep going with his silence. "I worry that no matter how long I live, no matter what changes in my life, I"ll never get him out of my head."

A tear rolls down my temple. I"m aware of it, and its significance, but I"m detached from it. It"s something my body is doing without my consciousness. An emotional reaction, when all I feel is objective. Interesting.

"Your grandfather?"

"And Chris."

If I"ve ever spoken his name out loud before, I don"t remember when. My memories of him are something I"ve kept close to my chest, hoarding them like secrets.

"Chris? Was he your boyfriend?"

Normally, I know I"d balk at that. Shrink away and act offended. But there"s no fear in this new space—wherever it is. This probably isn't even real. It's too comfortable to be real. It must just be a dream.

"Just a friend."

"You never talk about it. Your childhood, I mean."

I don't reply. The silence stretches out between us is heavy, but comfortable.

"Lane?"

"Hmm?" I answer, sleep pulling me down.

"Are you going to testify?"

"I don"t think I"m going to have a choice."

"That"s fucked up. I"m sorry."

"Yeah, well, I"m pretty fucked up." I chuckle, because it"s objectively funny.

"Maybe," Noah says, laughing softly, but it doesn"t feel like a genuine laugh. He sounds too concerned for it to be genuine. "But I"m pretty fucked up, too. We can be fucked up together."

"Promise?" Even through my floaty headspace, my chest still tightens the way it always does when I think of Noah in any aspect that isn't brotherly.

"You"re mine now, Lane. No take backs," he whispers.

Another tear that I watch as if outside my body. Maybe none of this is actually happening. Maybe this whole day, week, month has been a hallucination. Maybe all these last years have been some kind of dream, and I"m still trapped there.

I don"t want all of this to have never happened. Tomorrow I might feel differently when reality comes back. I kind of hope it doesn"t. Maybe I could testify if I was floating outside my body the whole time. I could just lay out the facts without fear of judgment or pity. Without the looks and soft voices whispering when they think I can"t hear.

"Noah?"

"Yeah?"

"Don"t treat me differently. When you figure it all out, I mean."

"I promise."

The bed jostles, and I"m vaguely aware that I'm not in my room. It's warm and comfortable. Although it was warmer with my weighted blanket.

I flinch as something warm and wet slides over my skin.

"There"s my blanket," I mumble through my sleepy haze.

A low chuckle. "Just cleaning you up so you don"t freak out when you wake up."

"Hmm. Good point."

The warmth slides over my sleeping dick, and it twitches to life. Little shivers of pleasure work their way into my psyche, pulling me a little further from slumber.

"Shhh, don"t encourage me," Noah says, but I don"t think he"s talking to me.

I crack an eye open. It"s dark aside from a faint light glowing from the hallway. Noah is crouched over my lower half, wiping me from navel to thigh with a wet towel as he raises a warning brow at my semi.

"Are you talking to my dick?"

"Maybe. Mind your business. Go back to sleep."

I chuckle, pushing myself up on my elbows. "I feel like you and my dick might need a chaperone," I say. "I can"t trust you two together. Or you three, I guess." I look pointedly at his lower body. If my penis is a person in this equation, his would be too. I attempt to scowl at it, but he"s wearing pants and when I scrunch my face, my eyes just want to stay shut.

"Still loopy, I see. Are you sure you didn't take anything?"

"Nah, just too tired to freak out. I"m saving it for tomorrow." Noah chuckles and tosses the towel into a basket. All of our wet clothes from earlier look to be in it. "Did you clean something? Maybe I am high. Did you drug me?"

"Didn"t want you to overdo it when your scheduled meltdown happens."

A huff escapes me as I fall back on the pillows. "Cocky brat."

"Watch who you call cocky," he says, pointing at my nearly hard dick. "Do we need to address the elephant dick in the room? Because, Good Lord dude..."

"You seem to handle it pretty well." My dick twitches, and Noah eyes it again.

"Don"t taunt me," he says to it. "Now isn"t the time."

"What"s wrong with now?" I say, fighting to keep my eyes open.

"Don"t take this the wrong way," he says. "I know you"re not actually drunk or stoned or anything, but you"re also clearly not in your right mind. I"m not trying to, like, take advantage here."

"Since when?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow, which probably isn"t very effective given that my eyes are mostly closed. He replies with an unamused huff.

"Tell you what, if you're still fucked up in the morning, we"ll reevaluate, and I"ll blow you. And if you wake up in a dark place, spiraling because of everything that happened today… I"ll blow you."

I laugh again, feeling the heaviness of sleep pull me under again. "Sounds like a win-win."

"The fact that you are seeing it that way is proof you"re not right," he says softly, covering me with a blanket.

"Where are you going?" I grumble.

It occurs to me that I"ve made myself at home in Noah"s bed. And I"m naked, although he isn"t, so maybe that makes it better? I should get up, but my limbs are too heavy. My brain is too heavy. I feel like I need to sleep for a week, and I can"t resist the comforting scent of Noah that wraps around me like a second blanket.

There"s no answer. Or maybe I fall back asleep. Eventually, the bed dips again, and Noah settles in the space behind me. He doesn't lie close enough to touch me, but I smile into the pillow that smells like him, knowing he"s there.