I need a fucking miracle

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Noah stood in the shower with one hand braced against the black tile wall, his head bowed as hot water ran down the back of his neck. Steam filled the bathroom like fog, blurring the full body mirror opposite the glass. 

Good. He didn’t particularly want to look at himself right now. Not after eight hours on a red-eye flight from London while his body ran on nothing but a cheap protein bar and two coffees. He hadn’t slept, he couldn’t sleep, and his body couldn’t even tell what time it was anymore. 

He tilted his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as the water ran through his hair before spiralling down the drain, carrying away the smell of airplane and weeks spent living out of a suitcase. His muscles ached from sleeping in cramped bunks on the tour buses, hauling heavy luggage through terminals and sitting in vans and planes for hours on end. 

He straightened up and rolled one shoulder, letting out a groan when it cracked loudly. 

So fucking old. He thought to himself. Though thirty wasn’t old, not in the slightest, it just felt that way after six weeks on the road, travelling through Europe. 

He landed just less than an hour ago, and he dropped his bags by the front door and immediately headed into the bathroom. He’d deal with unpacking later, he’d deal with missed calls and emails and whatever else was waiting for him later. 

After shutting off the shower, he finally noticed just how quiet his apartment (penthouse, he’s just humble) was. He stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped low around his waist, droplets of water disappearing into the expensive rug beneath his feet as he made his way into the kitchen. The place looked exactly how he’d left it, spotless, almost too clean- despite him telling his cleaner not to bother coming while he was on tour, but still paid her anyway. 

He stopped beside the kitchen island, and opened the fridge. Inside, he found a couple bottled waters, half a lemon and expired oat milk. He stared at it for a moment before shutting the door again. 

Food could wait. Everything could wait. 

He shook his head, and was about to make his way to the bedroom when his phone buzzed on the counter. 

Davis: Land safe?

He unlocked his phone and typed with tired fingers. 

Noah: Yeah. Got back an hour ago. 

Davis: Good. Get some rest dude, you deserve it 

He huffed a humourless laugh and tossed his phone back onto the counter. 

If only it worked like that. 

He knew he needed sleep, he was exhausted, every muscle in his body was screaming for rest, his eyelids burned and his head felt heavy… but he knew himself too well. If he climbed into bed right now, he’d stare up at the ceiling, eventually reach for his phone and scroll through twitter, reading comments he shouldn’t read. Maybe eventually he’d move into the studio and open up his laptop, start tweaking some demos for the next album, then start panicking about the next album. Worrying whether it’s good enough, thinking about streams and people’s expectations until the pressure would send him into a spiral. 

His brain didn’t know how to stop when he was at home, or at least not on it’s own. 

So he dragged his suitcase into the bedroom, and dropped it onto the bed. He dug through it until he pulled out a pair of black jeans, a tshirt that didn’t cling to him, and a pair of boxers that he hoped were clean. He quickly got dressed and half heartedly dried his hair with his towel before reaching for his black baseball cap that had dropped onto the floor. 

He caught his reflection in the mirror as he adjusted it on his head- his bloodshot eyes and dark circles, the way tour seemed to physically age him another thirty years. 

He just stared at himself for a moment before his eye caught his suitcase in the reflection. He should stay home, he should unpack, he knew that. Any sensible person would’ve climbed into bed and slept for twelve hours… instead, Noah found himself wandering towards the front door and reaching for his car keys. 

Because there was only one thing he could think about during the entire flight home. Not his bed, not the new album, not even seeing his friends. It was you. 

He didn’t have your number, he never asked for it, it never felt right, because everything about the two of you existed within the walls of the club. There was something comforting about that, though. There were no expectations, no texts late at night, no need to wonder if he was bothering you on your day off. He just had to turn up to the club, walk through the doors and you were there. 

But sometimes you weren’t. 

And if you weren’t, he’d nurse a whiskey, chat to the bartender for a while, tip the girls who came over to say hello then head home. But he knew that wouldn’t be the case tonight, since he knew for sure that you were working. Before he left for Europe, the bartender told him that you’d picked up Thursdays now that one of the other girls had left. So before he even left for the tour, he knew exactly where he’d be on the night he came home. 

He barely remembered getting in his car, but now he was at the club, walking up the door with his head down.

“Look who finally decided to come home!” The bouncer grinned, making Noah look up and give a tired smile. 

“It’s been a long six weeks.” Noah sighed, and the bouncer nodded his head before stepping aside to let him through. 

“Good to have you back.” 

“Good to be back.” He said with a nod, though he wasn’t entirely sure that was true. 

But it didn’t matter anymore once he stepped inside, the smell of perfume, cologne and alcohol all mixed together as coloured lights swept across the room. Nothing had changed in the time he’d been gone, everything was still in the same place, they were still playing the same music, the same bartender was polishing glasses behind the counter. 

He let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding, then his eyes found you. You were on the stage, you must’ve been halfway through your first set tonight. 

He smiled to himself when he saw what you were wearing. The most gorgeous lacey lilac two piece that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He wondered just how many outfits you had, since last time you were in emerald, and before that it was red, baby pink, silver, and he could never forget when you were in black the first time he came here.

You looked beautiful as ever tonight. Your hair was even curled, and it gently bounced as you moved beneath the lights. The crowd was eating it up- there were a group of businessmen at the front who looked hypnotised, and a couple guys he guessed were rather drunk, throwing handfuls of bills onto the stage. 

You gave a polite smile, gracious and professional as you twirled around the pole again. Oh how he had missed watching you…

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite rockstar.” Noah looked over to see one of the girls who worked here, Lila, smiling brightly and looping an arm loosely through his. “You’ve been gone forever.” 

“Six weeks.” He nodded. 

“See,” she pouted, “Forever!” 

He laughed softly, a warm smile creeping onto his lips. 

“Good to see you.” He said. 

“You too.” She said, before stepping back to take a proper look at him. “...Shit. You look exhausted.” 

“I am.” He quietly admitted. 

“You want some company?” She asked casually. And there was no pressure, because she knew the answer already. 

“I appreciate it,” Noah said with an apologetic smile, “But…”

Her eyes followed his, and they led straight to you. She laughed, though he could tell she was a little disappointed. 

“I should’ve known.” 

He scratched the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise,” she said, playfully nudging his shoulder, “She’s been wondering when you’d come back. I think your booth’s empty if you’re heading over there.” 

He nodded his head. 

“Thanks.” 

Lila gave him a smile, gently squeezing his arm, before turning around to head back into the crows. But Noah just managed to call out,

“Wait!” 

She slowly turned around, and Noah was already reaching into his pocket for his wallet, then he handed her a little stack of bills. 

“Have a good night.” 

…

Noah sat in the secluded booth that had somehow become his over the past year, he had his hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey that he’d been nursing for the past ten minutes while he watched you. 

You had no idea he was there, or maybe you did, he couldn’t tell. Still, he didn’t wave or try to catch your eye. He didn’t want to pull your attention away from your work. Not when this was your stage, your time, he was quite content to sit in the dark corner with his drink, letting his thoughts start to slow down.

And like usual in this place, he completely lost track of time. It was impossible not to when you would spin so effortlessly beneath the lights, when the way you moved your hips were hypnotic. He sank back into his seat, his legs spread beneath the table as his fingers tapped against his glass. 

Then before he knew it, your set was over. He watched you flash that professional smile before disappearing behind the velvet curtain at the back of the stage. He smiled to himself, then finally took another sip of his drink, which had now been watered down by the melted ice, though he didn’t mind. 

He was too busy imagining you backstage with the other girls, kicking off the towering heels for a few blessed minutes, complaining to the other girls about how your feet hurt- he’d heard that complaint from you enough times. He imagined you touching up your makeup, fixing your hair, drinking half a bottle of water in one go.

“So you finally remembered where we keep the door.” A warm and teasing voice spoke. "I thought maybe you found a better club."

He suddenly looked up, and there you were. Your lipstick had been reapplied, though it was a little smudged on the bottom, the pretty little outfit you had on had been covered up by an oversized black zip up hoodie, the hood pulled up over your head while the sleeves drowned you. And clearly you were giving your feet a break, since you were walking around in a pair of fluffy pink sliders. 

You looked human, like a regular person, not the dazzling performer he and everyone else had just watched on the stage. 

You slid into the booth, letting out a sigh as you sat down, resting your feet in his lap. But when you looked at him properly… your smiled disappeared. 

“Jesus, Noah.” You winced. 

“What?”

“You look like shit.” 

He scoffed, setting his glass back down onto the table. 

“Wow, thanks. Here I was thinking you were coming over to say welcome home.” 

You smiled, tilting your head.

“Where have you been?” You asked softly, and he rubbed his eyes. 

“Europe. Got back two hours ago.” 

“And you came straight here?”

He nodded. 

“I showered first, didn’t think you’d want me smelling like airports.” 

You let out a soft chuckle, a smile tugging at your lips. 

“Well, thank you for that.”

“I thought you’d appreciate the effort.” He smirked. 

“I do.” You nudged one of his knees gently with your slipper. “You look a lot cleaner than the last time you stumbled in after a flight.”

He smiled, the corners of his tired eyes softening. God, he’d missed this, he missed someone talking to him like he was just… Noah.

You studied him for another second, then your smile faded and your voice softened. 

“How long have you actually been awake?”

He shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“Noah.”

“Well, I slept for maybe…” He squinted as he thought. “Fifteen minutes on the plane?”

You frowned. Poor thing. He looked so tired and so tense, and instead of being tucked up in bed he was here. You didn’t wonder why, you knew exactly why he was here, even if he never told you. 

You leaned back into the booth, stretching one arm over the backrest before glancing towards the stage

“Y’know, I’m on my break at the moment. I’ve got about…” You checked the clock mounted above the bar. “Forty minutes until I gotta go back out there. There was a guy asking if I could give his friend a private dance.” You looked back at him, and he was nodding slowly. “And I was going to spend it backstage until I saw you.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, and thoughtfully tapped your long nails against the table. “Y'know... one of our private rooms are empty.”

His eyebrow lifted as he picked his glass back up. 

“And you look like you could use a dance.” You added.

He smiled into his whiskey.

“I probably could.”

You watched him for another second, thinking something over in your mind. 

“…Or.” You rested your chin in your palm. “I could give you a massage instead. You look pretty tense.”

He scoffed. 

“You’re telling me. I’ve spent six weeks sleeping in a tour bus.”

You frowned. 

“Must be pretty hard for a big guy like you,” you half teased, “I’m guessing the plane wasn’t much better?”

He shook his head. 

“I can tell.” You said softly, “I’ve got some massage oil in my locker.”

He looked at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You do?”

“My back gets tight after dancing.” You sighed.

“Huh.” He hummed. “You offer this to everyone?”

You laughed outright.

“God, no.” You shook your head, “I’d never get any work done.”

He smiled.

“So why me?”

You met his eyes, not sure how to answer that without getting too soppy with it.

“I guess it’s just your lucky day.” You smirked, before reaching over to touch his tense shoulder, “I think I know just what you need.”

He smiled, small and tired, but grateful. 

“Thanks. That sounds good.”

You pushed yourself up from the booth, pulling your hoodie down so it covered your ass.

“Go upstairs, room three,” you instructed, “I’ll grab the oil from my locker, I’ll just be two minutes.”

He nodded, already reaching for his wallet.

“How much do I owe you?”

You looked almost offended.

“Noah.”

“What?”

“I’m on my break.”

“I know, but-”

“No.” You folded your arms. “This one’s not work.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you pointed a finger at him before he could. 

“Don’t.”

A reluctant laugh escaped him.

“I wasn’t going to.”

You rolled your eyes fondly.

“The only thing you owe me… is keeping this a secret.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded. 

You turned towards the staff corridor, then glanced back over your shoulder with a smile.

“And Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re home.”

…

Room three was at the end of the corridor, far enough from the main floor that the music had softened and you could just hear the bass thump through the walls.

Noah had barely been inside for thirty seconds before he heard the quiet knock, then the door opened just enough for you to step in.

“Sorry,” you smiled. “One of the girls cornered me to complain about a customer.”

He chuckled.

“It’s okay.”

You nudged the door shut with your foot before holding up a pair of heels that looked more like a torture device.

“So, I have a very important question.”

Noah tilted his head. 

“I’m listening.”

You lifted the heels slightly.

“Do you want me to look…” You made little quotation marks with your fingers. “‘Professional.’ Y’know, lingerie and heels.”

Then you liften and wiggled one foot in the fluffy pink sliders you were already wearing.

“Or… do you mind if I stay like this?”

Noah looked at the heels, then at your hoodie, then at the slippers.

“Is that even a question?”

“Your massage, your choice.” You shrugged. 

He laughed softly.

“You’re on your break, sweetheart. You’ve been working all evening, I’d rather you were comfortable.”

A smile spread slowly across your face.

“I knew I liked you.”

“You weren’t sure before?”

“I was about… seventy percent sure.”

“Only seventy?”

“Yup. Congratulations.” You tossed the heels onto the armchair in the corner dramatically. “You’ve just earned the remaining thirty.”

He laughed, the sound warm enough to make your heart squeeze. Then you walked over to the small table and set the bottle of massage oil down beside a folded towel. Then you looked back at him.

“Okay.” You clapped your hands together once. “Get your ass over here, pretty boy.”

He raised an eyebrow as he wandered over. 

“Bossing me around already?” 

“Mm, I know you love it.” You smirked, pointing down at the plush red L-shaped couch. “Sit.”

Noah huffed a laugh, but still obeyed. He lowered himself onto the corner of the couch with a groan, and in here you could see him better. The dark circles under his eyes were impossible to miss, and there was still that tightness in his shoulders, like he didn’t know how to let them relax. 

You stepped in between his knees, studying him for a second as a frown tugged at your mouth. 

“Wow, you really do look rough.” 

“Aren’t you just full of compliments tonight.” Noah scoffed, a playful smile on his lips. 

You ignored that, and instead reached for his baseball cap, and lifted it from his head, setting it on the table beside the bottle of oil. His dark hair fell messily across his forehead, flattened from drying beneath the cap. 

“That’s better.” You smiled. 

You watched as his expression suddenly changed, he almost looked a little shy, and his hand started to rise towards his hair. 

“Nope.” You stopped him, catching his wrist before he could fix it. 

“It’s a mess.” He chuckled. 

“Well, in that case,” you settled onto one of his thighs, facing him, “Can I fix it?”

His eyes met yours, and his voice softened, like he’d been caught off guard. 

“...Yeah.” 

You smiled, and slowly slid your fingers into the dark strands at the back of his head, combing through his hair. As you did so, your long nails scratched gently at his scalp- and Noah’s reaction was immediate. His eyes fell shut, and a long breath escaped him. 

“Oh…” He let out a breathy moan. 

A tiny smile spread across your face as your hands slowly moved up his head, now brushing through the top of his hair. 

“That feel good?” You asked. 

“Mm… don’t stop.” 

You laughed softly and continued, your fingers slowly and gently moving through his hair. Little by little, you felt the tension leave him, his jaw relaxed and his head tipped forward ever so slightly, leaning into your touch.without even noticing. 

Then when you were finally satisfied, you brushed one last strand back from his forehead. 

“Much better,” you smiled, then carefully got up off his lap, “Alright, take your shirt off.” 

He couldn’t help but grin as he reached for the hem. 

“Remind me which one of us works at the strip club?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, as he pulled it up over his head in one motion before dropping it onto the arm of the couch.

You opened your mouth to say something… but nothing came out. 

…Oh. Wow. 

You’d seen him come in wearing tank tops before, the occasional tight t-shirt… but nothing could’ve prepared you for this. 

He wasn’t enormous, he didn’t look intimidating. He just looked… strong and masculine. Comfortably and naturally. His big broad shoulders tapered into a slutty little waist (sorry), his arms defined from years of lifting equipment instead of chasing impossible proportions at the gym. There were tattoos across his chest and stomach, your eyes drifted over them before settling on the gentle rise and fall of his breathing.

He looked like he took care of himself.

Maybe not as obsessively as some of the other guys you’d seen in here, who make their muscles and bodies their whole personality. But you could tell he put work into his body anyway. 

“You okay?” His voice pulled you back.

You suddenly met his eyes.

“Hm?”

“You’re staring.”

Heat crept into your cheeks.

“Yeah…” A laugh escaped you. “I wasn’t expecting…”

He looked down at himself, confused as to what you’re laughing at.

“What?”

“You look…” You searched for a word that didn’t sound ridiculous. “…really good.”

He gave an awkward little shrug.

“I’ve definitely looked better.”

You shook your head. 

“You know what’s funny?” You asked. 

“What?”

“I’m used to people staring at me. It’s literally my job.”

He nodded slowly, and you smiled to yourself. 

“It’s kind of nice that the tables have turned for once.” You added. 

A soft flush appeared across the tops of his cheeks.

“You’ve made me self-conscious now.” He said, half joking. 

“I promise I’m not judging you.” You insisted, “You’re just… wow.” 

Without thinking, your fingertips hovered near one of the letters tattooed just below his chest, then you paused.

“Can I?”

He glanced down at your hand before nodding.

“Yeah.”

Your fingertips rested lightly against his skin, tracing the edge of the ink with a featherlight touch. Then his stomach tightened involuntarily beneath your hand, and you immediately looked up.

“Sorry.”

“No.” A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’m just…”

“Ticklish?” You smirked. 

“...A little.” He said quietly. 

You smiled warmly.

“Wow, Noah Sebastian's ticklish?”

“Don’t go spreading that around.”

“I don’t know…” You tilted your head thoughtfully. “It’s kind of adorable.”

He groaned.

“I liked you better five minutes ago when you were being nice.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, remembering you were on a time limit. So you turned to pick up the massage oil. 

“Lay flat for me, on your stomach.” 

He obeyed without another word, and you took a step closer to the couch. You then shrugged off your hoodie, not wanting to cover it in oil. 

“Alright.” You said as you tossed it on top of Noah’s tshirt. 

He looked back over his shoulder at you. 

“If anything hurts, tell me. I’m not a professional, so promise you won’t sue me or the club if… I dunno, I break your shoulder or something.”

“I promise.” He laughed, folding his arms and resting his head on them. 

You looked at the couch… then at him… then at the couch. 

“…This is going to be awkward.” You said under your breath. 

“What is?”

“The angle.”

He frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t really reach your shoulders from here, not comfortably at least, so...” You sighed dramatically. “I’m going to have to climb up there.”

“Up there?” 

“On you.” You clarified. 

He bit back a smile.

“I have complete faith in you.”

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t.”

He heard you muttering to yourself as you tried to work out the least ridiculous way to do it.

“Left knee… no… that’s worse.” 

Finally, you carefully climbed onto the couch behind him, balancing yourself with one hand on the backrest.

“This feels very undignified.”

“I wish I could see what you’re doing.”

“Trust me, you don’t.”

Another second of shuffling followed…

“There.” You settled yourself down rather comfortably on his butt, your knees on either side of his hips. The position felt quite ridiculous, but it gave you the perfect leverage to reach his broad shoulders. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“…Are you comfortable?”

“I think so.” You smiled, pouring a little oil into your hands, warming it between your palms before reaching for his shoulders. 

“You ready?”

“Mhm.” He nodded into his arms.

Your thumbs pressed gently into the muscles beside his neck, and you immediately felt how tight they were. You worked slowly, using steady pressure rather than force, following the lines of muscle across his upper back. You didn’t realise you were rocking your hips with every movement, but Noah suddenly went very still. 

Every time you leaned forward to put more pressure into your hands, your hips roled, pressing your warm core firmly against the curve of his ass. After a couple of minutes, you felt him move underneath you, his muscles tensing instead of relaxing. 

“You okay down there?” You asked, still rocking slightly as you massaged lower down his back.

Noah’s voice came out a little strained.

“…Yeah. Just… keep going.”

You smiled, completely unaware of this effect you were having on him right now. Your hips continued to roll with the rhythm of the massage, rubbing your barely covered pussy against him over and over. The thin fabric of your thong did almost nothing to hide how warm you felt against him, even through his jeans.

Noah’s hands clenched into fists. His cock was now fully hard, trapped underneath him and grinding against the couch with every little movement you made. The pressure was driving him insane, and he wasn’t even sure you were doing it on purpose. 

You leaned forward again, your breasts brushing against his back this time as you worked on his spine, and let out a soft, focused hum.

“God, your back is so tight…”

Noah let out a quiet, broken sound that he tried (and failed) to disguise as a normal groan. Then, you finally sat back on his butt, still straddling him, and gently patted his side.

“Alright, big guy. Time to flip over. I wanna do your front too.”

Noah didn’t move right away.

“…Uh, okay. Maybe give me a second.” He mumbled into his arm, his voice hoarse.

You tilted your head, curiously.

“Why?” You chuckled.

He let out an embarrassed laugh.

“Because if I turn over right now, you’re going to see exactly what your little massage has done to me.”

A wicked smirk spread across your face. 

“Oh really?” You purred, “You got hard from me sitting on you like this and rubbing your back? Poor baby, were you that wound up?”

“You’ve been rocking your hips on me for the last five minutes,” he rasped, fingers digging into the couch, “What the fuck did you expect?” 

You laughed softly, biting your lip as you leaned forward, pressing your tits against his back while your hands slid down his sides. 

“Mm, I bet your dick's aching, huh?” You whispered, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, “Trapped underneath you, where you can’t touch it… bet you wish it was my hand wrapped around it, hm?”

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” Noah grumbled, but there was no real complaint in his voice, just strained arousal. 

“I am,” you smirked, sitting up straight and giving his ass a playful squeeze with your thighs. “It’s not every day I get to make a big, sexy guy like you this desperate just by giving him a back massage.” 

You finally climbed off of him, wiping your hands with the folded towel on the table, then looked back over at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. 

“C’mon, turn over for me,” you said, tapping his side, “Let me see what I did to you.” 

Noah hesitated for a second, then slowly rolled onto his back. And the moment he did, the very obvious, very thick bulge in his jeans was impossible to ignore. Your eyes widened before you let out a delighted little laugh. 

“Wow,” you breathed, staring at him openly, “This all for me, huh?”

You reached out and trailed one finger lightly over up the length of his bulge, not enough pressure to satisfy, just enough to tease. And his hips twitched, a quiet curse slipping his lips. 

“Baby…” He warned, his eyes dark. 

But you just smirked, and swung your leg around him so you straddled him again. You settled your weight on him and slowly rolled your hips forward, grinding your barely covered pussy along the thick length of his cock through his jeans, and you had to bite your lip as your clit rubbed so deliciously against him. 

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying your massage.” You teased, your voice sweet as you started working your hands over his chest and shoulders again. Your thumbs circled his pecs, brushing over his nipples while your hips kept up that slow rhythm.

Noah’s hands flexed at his sides, his jaw tight as he fought to keep his restraint, and he tried to keep his hands off of you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” He warned. 

You leaned down, pressing your tits against his chest as you massaged his shoulders, rolling your hips in a way that dragged your pussy right over the head of his cock with every movement.

“Am I?” You asked innocently, lips brushing his collarbone. “I’m just trying to be nice and help you relax all these tight, hard muscles…”

You sat up again, bracing your hands on his chest as you started rocking harder, grinding down on him with more pressure. The friction was perfect- your clit rubbing against his bulge over and over while you pretended to focus on massaging his abs. You almost forgot that you shouldn't be doing this here.

Noah’s breathing grew ragged. His cock throbbed hard beneath you, leaking precum into his boxers.

“Fuck… baby,” he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”

You bit your lip and rolled your hips even slower, dragging your wet pussy along his entire length.

“Good,” you whispered, voice dripping with the teasing sweetness you know how to do so well. “I want to feel how much you like it.”

You kept going, grinding and rolling and pressing down harder with every pass, your own breathing getting heavier as you worked yourself against him. Your hands never stopped moving, sliding over his chest, his tummy, his shoulders, all while you rode his clothed cock like you were in his bed instead of a private room at the work.

Noah’s hands finally snapped up, making you jump as he gripped your hips hard, fingers digging into your soft flesh to stop your movement completely.

“Sorry- fuck, stop moving,” he rasped, his voice strained and desperate. His cock was twitching beneath you, and he felt right on the edge. “I’m serious. I’m about two seconds away from cumming in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

You looked down at him with a satisfied little smirk, still gently rocking despite his tight grip.

“Aww, poor thing,” you cooed, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You really are that worked up, huh? Just from me sitting on your lap and giving you a massage?”

Noah let out a shaky breath, thumbs stroking your hips even as he held you still.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he breathed, his eyes dark with lust. “Keep teasing me like this and I won’t be responsible for what happens.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, and with one last kiss to his neck, you pressed your finger to his lips as if to shush him. 

“Not a sound. Sit up.” You instructed as you stood yourself. 

You turned your back to him for a moment as you gathered your hair and tied it into a ponytail. Then you turned back around, and dropped gracefully to your knees between his spread thighs. You looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” you warned him as your fingers already started working his zipper, “If anyone finds out I did this- any of this- I could lose my job.” 

Noah nodded quickly, his jaw clenched and eyes half lidded as he watched you. 

You pulled his cock free from his trousers. He was rock hard, big, thick and heavy, the head already glistening with precum. You wrapped your hand around the base and gave him one slow, firm stroke, watching his thighs tense.

Then you leaned in and took him into your mouth.

Noah’s head fell back against the back of couch, a silent, strangled groan caught in his throat as you started sucking him, slow, wet, and sloppy. You took him as deep as you could, gagging softly when he hit the back of your throat, then pulled back with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting your lips to his cock.

You looked up at him again, eyes watery but determined, and whispered,

“Not a sound, Noah. Or I stop.”

Noah nodded desperately, biting his lip hard.

You immediately went back down, taking him deeper this time. Loud, wet, filthy sounds filled the private room as you bobbed your head fast. Spit ran down his thick shaft messily, dripping onto his balls while you worked him.

You pulled off just long enough to look up into his eyes and spit on his cock, then stroked him fast and tight while your tongue swirled around the sensitive head, licking up every drop of precum like it was your favourite little treat.

“Fuck… baby-” Noah choked out in a broken whisper, one hand flying to your ponytail.

You moaned around his cock in response, the vibration making his hips jerk. Then you pushed yourself further, relaxing your throat and sinking all the way down until your nose nuzzled against his pelvis. You held him there, your throat fluttering and squeezing around him, glossy lips stretched wide around the base of his cock.

Noah’s whole body tensed, and his thighs started shaking.

You pulled back with a gasp, strings of thick spit connecting your mouth to his cock, leaving a ring of sparkly lips gloss at his base, then you immediately went back to sucking him hard and fast- sloppy, messy, and just straight up pornographic. Your hand stroked the base in time with your mouth while your other hand gently rolled and squeezed his heavy balls.

Fuck, Noah was losing it. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving, fingers tightening almost painfully in your hair as he fought to stay quiet and in control. His cock throbbed on your tongue, leaking constantly, then you looked up at him with teary, cockdrunk eyes and moaned again, sucking harder, hollowing your cheeks as you took him as deep as you could.

And that was all it took. Barely three minutes after you’d started, Noah’s hips rutted and his grip on your hair turned almost painful.

“I’m- shit, I’m cumming-” He gasped, his strained voice barely a whisper.

You moaned eagerly and pushed him deep into your throat just as he came. Hot ropes of cum spilled down your throat as his cock throbbed in your mouth. You swallowed around him greedily, milking every drop while he trembled and whimpered quietly above you. Even after he finished, you kept sucking gently, cleaning him up with soft and lazy licks until he was twitching and oversensitive.

When you finally pulled off, you wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb and looked up at him with a wicked little smile.

“Already?” You teased softly, your voice sweet and mocking. “I thought big rockstars like you had better stamina than that, baby. You came so fast… did my mouth feel that good?”

Noah let out a breathless, embarrassed laugh, dragging a hand down his flushed face.

“You’re evil,” he muttered, still trying to catch his breath. “Absolute fucking evil.”

You giggled and kissed the tip of his softening cock before tucking him back into his pants.

“Worth every penny you’re about to spend on me tonight, though… right?” 

Noah sat up slowly, his eyes still dark and hungry as he looked at you kneeling between his legs. He cupped your face with one big hand, his thumb brushing over your swollen, glossy lips.

“Come home with me instead,” he said, his voice rough. “Right now. Fuck the rest of your shift.”

You bit your lip, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Noah… I would but I promised this guy a lap dance in like five minutes. I can’t just-”

“I don’t care,” he cut in, leaning forward so his forehead rested against yours. “I’ll pay for it. I’ll pay triple what he was going to give you. I’ll cover all your house fees for the whole night, plus whatever tip you would’ve made. Fuck it, I’ll even pay the club an extra 2k if it means they’ll let you leave early..”

You raised an eyebrow, a little surprised by how quickly and casually he was throwing out numbers.

“Noah… that’s a lot of money.” You said as you stood up, only to be pulled down into his lap again. 

“I don’t care,” he said immediately, one hand sliding up to cup your jaw. “I’ve been stuck on a fucking tour bus for six weeks jerking off to the thought of you every night. I just came down your throat in under three minutes like a desperate loser. I need to return the favour. I need you tonight. All night. In my bed. On my tongue. Riding my cock until sunrise.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours as he kept talking.

“I promise I’ll make it worth it for you, princess. Five thousand. Six if you want. Whatever it takes so you can walk out that door with me right now and not worry about losing money.” His thumb stroked your bottom lip, hsi eyes burning into yours. “So what do you say? Let me spoil you properly. Come home with me tonight and I promise I’ll take care of everything- the club, the money, you. All of it.”

You felt heat pool between your legs at how insistent and generous he was being. The way he was willing to throw money at the situation just to have you. So you smiled slowly, leaning in to kiss him.

“Okay,” you whispered against his mouth. “I’ll go tell everyone I’m sick or something. Give me five minutes.”

Noah’s grip on your hips tightened, and he kissed you harder, deep and possessive.

Noah had been talking for what felt like hours about this new video game he’d been playing, a glimmer of excitement lighting up his brown eyes.

His hands moved animatedly as he described a particularly intense boss fight, the sleeves of his oversized black hoodie hanging loosely over his knuckles.

You loved the way he looked in that hoodie. It was one of his favorites —worn and soft, slightly too big on his frame, making him look even more comfortable, if that was even possible. The way the hood flopped lazily over his head made him look effortlessly cozy. Effortlessly boyfriend.

You weren't really listening to what he was saying anymore, though. Your mind was elsewhere, lost in the easy cadence of his voice, the way his lips curved around his words, the way he’d glance at you every so often, as if checking to see if you were still following his story.

You’d known Noah for years, ever since you’d met through mutual friends. Over time, the two of you had grown close—late-night hangouts, inside jokes, and endless text threads about music, games, and everything in between.

It was the kind of friendship you cherished, but it also held a secret you weren’t sure you could keep to yourself any longer.

You liked him. More than liked him. In fact, you might be in love with him.

It wasn’t a sudden realization, though. The feeling had been there for months, slowly building every time he sent you a good morning text, or when he smiled at you in that soft, shy way of his. The crush had bloomed quietly, and you thought you could manage it, thought you could just push it aside and stay content with being friends.

But sitting here, so close to him, watching him light up over something as mundane as a video game, your heart ached with the weight of it. He looked so perfect in this moment, so comfortable and happy, and all you could think was that you wanted to kiss him so badly.

Your eyes drifted down to the hoodie he was wearing, the fabric bunching slightly as he pulled his arms back, resting them behind his head. The loose fit made him seem even softer, more like the guy you’d always imagined being with, not some distant, impossible dream, but someone real, right in front of you.

His hair was messy, falling into his face as he absentmindedly pushed it back, too focused on recounting his latest gaming adventure to notice the way your gaze lingered on him.

“—and then, after all that, the boss pulls this insane move, like totally unpredictable,” Noah was saying, his voice full of excitement. He leaned forward slightly, as if the memory alone was making his heart race all over again. “I thought for sure I was done for, but I got this idea, you know? Like everything just clicked.”

You nodded, but your thoughts were far from the battle he was describing. Instead, you were focused on how his hoodie seemed to swallow him up, the sleeves long, the fabric worn and soft, practically begging to be touched. He looked so… cozy. So sweet. You could imagine him lounging around in that hoodie all day, maybe curled up on the couch with you, his arm wrapped around you as you watched movies together, maybe even falling asleep on your shoulder. The image was so vivid, it made your heart swell.

“You should try it,” Noah said, his voice breaking through your thoughts. You blinked, realizing you hadn’t caught a word of what he’d just said. He was staring at you now, his eyes soft with concern. “Are you okay? You’ve been kinda quiet.”

Your heart jumped at the sudden attention. “Yeah, sorry. I was just... thinking.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and he turned his body a little more towards you, giving you his full attention. “Thinking about what?”

You swallowed hard, not sure how to answer. What could you say? Thinking about how ridiculously cute you look in that hoodie? Or maybe, Thinking about how much I want to kiss you right now? No, those wouldn’t do. You were already feeling vulnerable, your emotions bubbling too close to the surface, threatening to spill over if you said the wrong thing.

“Nothing important,” you said, trying to brush it off. “Just… lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

Noah didn’t seem convinced. His eyes softened, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. “Come on, I know you better than that. What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, your gaze flicking down to his hoodie again. It was such a small thing, but it felt like the embodiment of everything you’d been feeling lately—how close you were to him, how comfortable, how easy it was to be in his presence, and yet how painfully aware you were of the unspoken feelings between you.

He looked so casual, so effortlessly himself, and for some reason, that made it harder to keep pretending that your feelings were purely platonic.

You took a deep breath, your heart racing. Before you could second-guess yourself, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you. Your hand found his chest, lightly resting against his chest as you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was soft, tentative. You hadn’t planned it, hadn’t thought it through—you just felt it. And in that moment, nothing else mattered. The world around you disappeared, and all that was left was the warmth of Noah’s lips against yours, the way his body froze in surprise for just a second before he responded.

His hand reached up, almost instinctively, cupping your cheek as he kissed you back, his touch gentle but sure.

When you finally pulled away, your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath coming out in uneven puffs.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him right away, suddenly unsure of what you’d just done. Had you ruined everything? Was he going to pull back, tell you it was a mistake?

But when you finally forced yourself to meet his gaze, Noah was looking at you with an expression you hadn’t seen before. His lips were slightly parted, still processing what had just happened, but there was no confusion, no rejection. Instead, there was something softer.

“So… that’s what you’ve been thinking about?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You laughed nervously. “Yeah… something like that.”

For a moment, there was only silence between you. You were waiting for him to say something—anything—but instead, he just stared at you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to figure out what this all meant.

“I—” you started, but before you could say another word, Noah leaned in and kissed you again.

This kiss was different. It wasn’t tentative or unsure. It was full of something deeper, something that had been simmering between you for so long, waiting for the right moment to spill over.

His hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours, slow and deliberate, as if he’d been holding back for too long and was finally allowing himself to feel.

When he pulled back this time, a little smile was on his lips.

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah?”

Noah nodded, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he finally pulled back enough to look at you. “Yeah… for a while now. I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”

You blinked, trying to process his words. “What?”

He chuckled, his fingers still gently brushing the side of your face. “Why do you think I’ve been coming over here so much? It wasn’t just to talk about video games for sure.”

You laughed, the sound coming out a little shaky. “I thought you were just being a good friend.”

“I mean, I am,” he teased, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “But I guess I wanted to be a little more than your friend."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, the tension you hadn’t realized you’d been holding finally starting to ease. All this time, you’d been worried that your feelings would ruin things, that you’d be the one to overstep, but now… now everything felt right. Like maybe this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

Noah smiled softly, his hand slipping from your cheek to your waist as he pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around you in a way that felt so natural, so easy. You rested your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing your nerves.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to relax, to sink into the warmth of him, of this moment, of the quiet realization that you didn’t have to hide your feelings anymore.