34. Lane

The watch on my wrist flashes and beeps. I extricate my arms from the tangle of Noah"s limbs to shut it off, and continue to lie in bed, letting him sleep a while longer. He was supposed to go back to his own bed hours ago, but instead of feeling mad or annoyed that he didn"t follow through, I"m grateful. The pressure of his body on mine, and the warm puffs of air that tickle my neck with each of his steady breaths, are meditative. I let it lull me into a peaceful headspace, where I can consider the obstacles ahead of me with a clear head. I"m still afraid—terrified, really—but I don"t feel unable to put one foot in front of the other. I can tell myself that I can do this.

Pushing the button at the side of the watch, the screen has a small picture of me and Noah in silhouette, our foreheads touching. It"s not obvious that it"s us, but we know, and that"s all that matters. It"s a selfie he took last night before putting the watch around my wrist, because he wants to be there for me in the deposition room. Since he can"t hold my hand, he gave me something to remind me of him. The watch is heavy, the band thick. If I tighten it enough, it makes me think of the weight of his hand in mine, the pressure of him wrapping his arms around me whenever I need an anchor.

"Hey, honey, is everything okay? You"re normally up—" My mom freezes in the open doorway of my room, her mouth gaping open.

Shit."Mom!" My stomach drops, and I try to shift Noah off me, but I just end up making it worse. The tiny corner of the sheet that was covering Noah"s bare ass gets pulled down, and if the fresh blast of air on my crotch is any indication, my mother is getting a graphic display that leaves no questions about what Noah and I have been up to here.

"Oh my God!" She shields her eyes in horror. "Uh, I-I-I"m sorry, I just—Oh my god."

With that, she turns and runs up the stairs.

Trying to toss Noah off of me, I call out after her and try to follow, but I"m also completely naked with the sheet wrapped around one of my ankles. I think I hear a sob on her way up, but I hope I"m wrong.

Oh God, what have I done?

"What"s happening?" Noah asks.

"You were supposed to go back to your own room before anyone wakes up!" I hiss, scrambling to pull on a pair of pants.

"I was!" he whisper-yells back. "But as soon as I tried to get up, you pulled me back down and asked me to stay!"

"I was asleep!"

"So was I, you dickhead!"

"Yeah, well, guess what my mom walked in on?"

His eyes are wide, but he shakes his head. "We were just sleeping, that doesn"t mean anything."

"You were butt naked and sprawled out on top of me when she came in."

Noah"s face falls. "Dude, did your mom see my junk?"

"And mine," I tell him.

Suddenly depleted of any peace I"d woken up with, I plop down on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands. "I"m going to be sick."

"Hey, hey, hey," Noah placates me, scrambling to kneel in front of me. "It"s going to be alright. They were going to find out eventually. I know you wanted to wait until everything died down, but maybe this is a good thing. We"re getting everything out in the open today, yeah?"

My glare must convey how little I appreciate his silver linings bullshit right now, but he doesn"t back down. He"s rubbing my arms and telling me it"s going to be alright, but his voice sounds so far away. I"m watching his mouth say the words, and I"m not sure what else, because a loud ringing fills my ears. I think he"s saying my name, shaking me by the shoulders. My eyes flutter shut, and I feel like I"m fighting off sleep.

She"s going to kick me out. Disown me. Tell me she"s disgusted.

Sickness. Weak. Abomination. I forgot how loud the voices can be. "Sin is infectious, Isaiah."

And then everything comes back, assaulting my senses all at once. Noah"s lips are on mine, pressing hard. My fingertips are digging into his waist, probably leaving marks. I pull back and blink rapidly.

"Look at me, Lane," Noah says, standing over me and holding my face in his hands. "Nothing has changed. You"re still you, and I"m still me, and we"re together in this, okay?"

"What if she—" I choke on the words, vomit rising in my throat. I have to push Noah out of my way to make it to the bathroom in time to heave up whatever is left from last night"s dinner. Noah follows and crouches behind me, rubbing my back in soothing circles. "What if she hates me?" I say, my words echoing in the bowl.

"She doesn"t."

"How do you know?"

"Because she"s a good mom, Lane. She loves you. She loves us. They might need some time to come around, but they will."

"And if they don"t?"

"Then fuck "em," he says bluntly. "We don"t need anyone but each other."

Wiping my mouth, I lean back, finding Noah"s body behind me instead of the wall. I settle back against his chest, and he wraps his arms around me from behind. His long legs are sprawled out on either side of me. We stay like that until we hear movement upstairs and remember we have to face the firing squad.

Noah pulls my chin to look at him. "Why don"t you take a shower and get dressed, and I"ll talk to them first, okay?" He leans in for a kiss, but I pull back. He smirks, and I"m reminded of the first month of our strange relationship.

"Gross, don"t kiss me. My mouth tastes awful."

He shakes his head. "You still just don"t get it, do you?"

"Noah…"

"Lane..."

Mortified, but also amused and a little aroused at his level of obsession with my body, I let him press a closed mouth kiss to my lips. He licks against the seam and nips my bottom lip, but I keep them pressed together. Growling in frustration, he moves his kisses down my throat, and spends probably too long making out with my neck and chest while grinding into me before peeling my sleep pants off my body. After turning on the shower and forcing me inside, I think he"s going to leave me, but he presses me against the tile and uses what he calls his cheat code to wrench an orgasm from me before leaving me to wash myself on shaky legs.

My heart is beating in my throat the entire time I get ready. I"m headed upstairs, considering asking Scott to re-tie my tie for me because I think it seems crooked, when I hear his voice.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me, Noah!"

I"ve never heard Scott cuss or shout before. His deep, angry voice is jarring. I take a step back, but slip and fall down a few stairs before I catch myself.

"The sickness is inside you, Isaiah." "Repent!" "To accept God"s love, you must purge your sins!"

I back up into a wall, hands holding either side of my head. Stop it, stop it, stop it!

I can"t breathe.

"Get away from him! Don"t touch him!"

"Son, I"m not?—"

"Just back off, Dad. You don"t understand!

"What"s going on down here? Oh my God, Lane!"

"It"s okay, he"s okay. Just give him some space."

"Is he having a panic attack?"

"Lane, baby. I"m here. I"m here."

Warmth surrounds me. The smell of familiar bodywash and the underlying scent of cum fills my lungs as I suck in painful breaths, like I"ve been held under water too long. Pressure around my chest. Whispering in my ear, reminding me where I am. Who I am. Who I"m with.

Noah.

Something small is pressed into my hand. My mother and Noah"s voice talking back and forth.

"Open your mouth, Lane."

Isn"t my mom here? This isn"t appropriate?—

An intense, sharp, acidic flavor bursts in my mouth. My eyes water, but open, squinting as my face contorts to react to whatever is in my mouth. I spit it out, and Noah catches it in his hand.

"It"s just candy, Lane. Keep it in your mouth."

My mom watches us with a strange, wide-eyed expression as Noah puts the terrible candy back into my mouth, encouraging me to suck on it with a completely straight face. My mom and Scott look at each other, having some silent conversation. Noah winks, because of course the dirty implications didn't escape him.

The sour fades to sweet, and my heart rate returns to normal.

"I"m sorry," I say, embarrassed, unable to look our parents in the eye.

"It happens to me, too," my mom says, tentatively placing a hand on my arm. My eyes raise to hers, seeing concern rather than anger. "That"s why I have a pocket full of these," she says, pulling a few Warheads candies out of her pocket. "Someone in a support group recommended them once."

"Support group?"

"Yeah," she says. "My therapist recommended I talk with other women who have been through similar trauma."

"Trauma?"

Her lips form a sad smile, and I realize that I"m just repeating her like I"m learning a new language. Then I realize that I"m sitting on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, with Noah straddling my lap, face buried in my neck. Instead of pushing him off me, which is my first impulse, considering our parents are staring at us, I wrap my arms around his body and hold him for a few moments. My mom"s hand reaches for Scott"s, entwining their fingers and squeezing.

Reluctantly, I release Noah, missing the weight and heat of his body almost immediately. The four of us sit in awkward silence while I search my brain for something to say. I look up and find Noah watching me. Something in his gaze clutches at my heart, and I think of what he said this morning, about today being the day to get everything out in the open.

We speak at the same time.

"I love him."

My eyes nearly bug out of my head and so do Noah"s. A grin stretches across his face.

"I love you," I tell Noah, quietly. "And not as a brother," I add, turning my eyes to our gawking parents.

"Definitely not as a brother," Noah agrees.

My mother slaps a hand over her eyes. "Yeah, I saw that."

I groan. Noah laughs, because as usual, he doesn"t give a shit.

"We have a lot to talk about," Scott says.

"No, we don"t," I say firmly, my chin lifting. "Noah did nothing wrong. If you can"t accept him for?—"

"You"re right," Scott says, surprising me. "I"m sorry for how I reacted. I was surprised—am surprised." He looks at Noah. "I made assumptions that weren"t fair to you. From what I just saw, this definitely isn"t just pushing boundaries because you"re bored. I"m sorry, and I love you, son. Both of you," he says, giving me a pointed look.

"You"re both our sons, and we love you," my mom says, looking down to where Noah has his fingers woven into mine, our hands resting on my thigh. "This might take a little getting used to, though. But only because you're our children, not because of any other reason."

Everyone hugs, and my mom cries some more, then she and Scott go upstairs to get ready. It"s almost time to leave for the deposition. Despite no one else being allowed in the room, they"re all coming to support me, no matter how long of a day it"s likely to be.

Noah and I are left, sitting at the bottom of the stairs.

"His response was fair," Noah says quietly, while my fingers comb through his too-long hair. "When this whole thing started, I was pushing boundaries out of boredom, and because I was insecure. And then I had this stupid, immature notion that I could hump you out of my system so we could both move on."

My brow furrows, but he continues before I can say anything to that. "I was so wrong," he says, chuckling. "If anything, you"ve burrowed deeper than ever, like some kind of rooted plant." He turns around and looks up at me, starting some kind of apology, but sees me laughing instead, tears gathering in my eyes. "I"m pouring my heart out over here, and you"re laughing?" He holds his hand over his heart. "I"m wounded."

"It"s just that I had a similar thought before, about the roots. Growing like some kind of evil, sentient thing, burrowing into me."

"Hmm, I"ll burrow something into you, alright."

I roll my eyes, but let him lean into me, pushing me back against the stairs as he kisses me deeply.

"Boys!" My mom calls from upstairs, only cracking the door enough to let some sound down. "We need to leave in ten minutes!"

"It"s safe, mom," I say flatly. "No one"s naked."

"Yet," Noah mutters under his breath. But he smirks and kisses me one more time, before taking my hand and leading me upstairs, towards the next obstacle.