I need a fucking miracle

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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.

You Dude how did it go?? Sent 21:46 Everything alright? Sent 23:05 Call me when you get this Sent 23:29 Don’t tell me you’re already sleeping!! Sent 00:47 Bitch stop ignoring me :( Sent 00:49

It’s past one in the morning, yet you were still on edge, pacing around your dimly lit living room as you stared at the series of messages you sent to your best friend. 

Your anxiety was already through the roof tonight, and Noah ignoring you— when you repeatedly told him earlier to keep you posted— was not helping your nerves in any way. You could’ve sworn you already started to taste blood from chewing hard on your lower lip.

Noah Sebastian Davis was on a special dinner date with his girlfriend. He had promised to tell you how it would go, but to your dismay, not even one of your countless texts or calls was noticed by the guy you called your best friend since grade school. You had tried asking the rest of the boys if they had heard from him, but all of them were as lost as you, though Nicholas reminded you not to worry too much. 

On regular days, you would not be this insistent on hearing from the guy– he’s a grown man with his own life after all– but tonight was a special case. 

Noah and his girlfriend were celebrating their third anniversary. 

With your help as his bestest friend, the lovestruck rockstar had organized an intimate dinner for the ‘love of his life’ in his apartment. He had wanted their date to be simple yet very romantic, and when you had wiggled your brows to tease him, his straightforward answer had instantly faded the smile off your face, the words he uttered sending a direct blow right to your chest.

“I’m proposing.”

Two words that had made your stomach drop.

Two simple words that had instantly become so powerful when they rolled off his very own tongue that it made your world stop.

It was the one thing you had been dreading to hear ever since Noah got into a serious relationship. 

It was the only news you had never wanted him to break to you when he decided to focus his eyes on one girl.

Someone who was finally not you.

With your heart pounding and hands going cold, all you could do then was stare at him through the tears that had started to blur your sight. You had slowly blinked them back, faking a smile as your eyes trailed through his beaming face. And the world had gone in slow motion when you watched him pluck out the diamond ring from his pocket, the stupid little freckles showing against his flushed cheeks— the same cheeks that you had secretly been wishing to lovingly caress for over a decade now.

For so long, you had been trying to deny your feelings for your best friend, but one day your heart had had enough. Those little flutters you had been trying to suppress every damn time Noah Sebastian was near you had become so unbearable that you had finally allowed yourself to at least acknowledge their existence.

It had all started when he hit puberty– when he transformed into an attractive, lanky goof whose wolf-cut hair and playful eyes made girls on campus squeal like maniacs. It surely did not help that he and the guys had started a garage band, always present at weekend gigs where girls had freely fawned over them. You didn’t care for it at first; you only saw Noah as ‘one of the boys’. You had been so accustomed to his dorky face since you were seven, so you just did not get the fuss.

Not until one day, when all of a sudden his simple touches, which you had been so used to, started to make you feel unusually… weird. 

His noodle arm around your shoulder when the two of you would walk together; his hands squeezing your face and fingers pinching your cheeks when he’d tease you; knuckles playfully punching your arm every time he’d get excited— these had been all part of Noah’s normal friendly gestures but now the mere graze of his fingertips on your skin had started to make your cheeks blush and your stomach do somersaults. 

For the sake of your friendship, you had wanted to avoid this feeling so badly. But as an equally hormonal teenager back then, you had found yourself giving in, allowing the attraction to blossom as the two of you got older and navigated life together. 

All of this despite knowing that you would never have the guts to tell your lanky best friend about it, so you’d for sure end up hurting on the sidelines. And even if you mustered up the courage to do so, you knew your feelings would remain unrequited. 

You had always been his best friend– his ‘bro’, his confidante. Nothing more, nothing less.

From the tail end of high school and throughout college, you had witnessed Noah’s dating escapades in the front row. Several girls had come and gone; most of them did not last more than three months, and you actually thought he was not capable of settling down with one woman. 

That was until Alexis came into his life. 

Tall, blonde, athletic, outgoing, popular. From the moment you had laid your eyes on her, you knew she was the girl you would never be able to compete with. 

How could you, anyway, when you had seen how your best friend’s eyes sparkled every single time he looked at her? When he would smile and laugh differently every damn time he was around her? When he had always dropped everything for her, no matter the consequences?

How could you, really, when she already had his heart wrapped around those soft, well-manicured fingers right at the beginning?

‘It was love at first sight,’ Noah had animatedly narrated to you when Alexis accidentally stumbled into your giraffe best friend one day at the school gymnasium. As a natural flirt, he had shamelessly asked for her number and asked her out right then and there. Months after college graduation, they had made it official, and here they were, three years into their relationship, and Mr. Davis had gotten so helplessly in love that he had finally decided to tie his woman legally to him.

And as his best friend, you just hoped she also felt the same way for him— that she would make him genuinely happy, the way he deserved it… the way you had always wanted.

Noah🦒Davis  calling…

Your phone vibrating startled you, snapping you back to reality. A heavy sigh of relief escaped your mouth when your phone screen finally lit up with your best friend’s silly contact photo.

For a second, you snorted. It was that bathroom selfie of him pouting that he sent you five years ago, when he randomly texted you, ‘I’m pooping right now, wanna FaceTime?’ 

Yep, that’s how close you two were.

“Oh my god, Noah!” Picking up the call you had been waiting for all night, you greeted him with your exasperated ‘mom’ voice, as he would always call it. Worry started to lift off your chest; you were just glad your stupid best friend was still breathing, at least. “Dude, what the fuck happened to you!?”

With eyebrows still as furrowed as before, you waited for Noah to talk on the other end, but all you could hear were his heavy breaths and muffled giggles.

What was wrong with him?

“Hello? Noah Sebastian??” You raised your voice to tell him to quit playing around. 

Your best friend let out a faint breath of your name before giggling again. This time, much louder as if to purposely annoy you.

“Dude, I swear–”

“S-shit… ‘m so fuckin’ stupid.” Words slurred, he carried on with his annoying giggles, and that’s when you questioned his current state.

“Hey, are you drunk?”

“Noooo… I’m Noah, you dimwit!” He was now laughing obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes and rub your forehead at his confirmation. You had been waiting for him to break some important news to you for the last few hours, and all you got was this stupid drunk call.

Who would’ve thought you’d get this close to being awarded the Most Patient Best Friend of the Century?

“Noah Sebastian Davis!” 

“Yup, baby, that’s me!” He continued to laugh on the other line.

“Hey, asshole, where are you right now? Are you in your apartment?”

“Yup!” He giggled once again. “Wanna come over?”

“Why, are you alone?” You pried.

“Yup!” He obnoxiously repeated, seemingly enjoying the sound of the ‘P’ popping from his lips.

“Where’s Lexi?”

“Yup!”

“Noah, for fuck’s sake–”

“Yup!”

Heaving out a sigh, you realized there was no talking sense into him at this moment. “I’ll be there in 10. You better not move a muscle or I will kill you.”

“Yup!”

And then it was like a reflex. 

As soon as you dropped the call, you hurriedly grabbed your jacket and keys and drove to his place. It was almost two in the morning, and the weather hadn’t been nice since the day before, as if mirroring the somber state of your non-existent love life. You knew, one way or another, that unpleasant news was waiting for you at Noah’s. But being the devoted, doting best friend that you were, you chose not to care. 

Like you always did.

—

“Noah?” You quietly called for him as you pushed the door open to his apartment. The glow from the kitchen allowed you to scan your best friend’s dim living room. Aside from one pillow strewn on the carpeted floor, everything looked completely normal.

After carelessly throwing your jacket on the couch, you headed straight to the dining area, thinking your best friend would be there. But as you took a turn and squinted your eyes, the scenario that greeted you made you freeze in your spot. 

Your mouth went dry as you felt the heavy weight you had been carrying the whole day drop from your chest to the pit of your stomach. 

Eyes slowly blinking, you swallowed a lump in your throat, trying to convince yourself you were just dreaming.

Noah’s dining table looked exactly the same as when you set it up this afternoon, save for an empty bottle of wine and a missing glass. All of the plates were clean, and the food you had prepared remained intact, but now looked dry, cold, and untouched. The candles were unlit while the bouquet of red roses you ordered on your best friend’s behalf remained sitting on one of the chairs. 

And it was impossible to miss the black velvet ring box lying upside down beside the bowl of your homemade lobster ravioli.

You did your best to be emotionally prepared for Noah getting engaged tonight, but what appeared in front of you was a whole different thing. No amount of pep talks from Nicholas and emo music from Folio’s cheesy playlist could have readied you for this.

Did they get into a fight?

Did she reject his proposal? 

Did she stand him up?

Even thinking about any of the possible scenarios made your stomach churn. You were 100% ready to have your heart broken tonight, but you did not want it to be this way. Never this way. 

You had witnessed Noah’s struggles growing up. Back in the day, you had fought other kids on his behalf every time they called him ‘string bean’. When some hippies from high school had badmouthed their garage band, you were the one who had retaliated for them– for him.

And now that you’re all grown up, you certainly wished you could also protect him from the heartbreaks that came along with romantic relationships, the same way you would with his bullies back then. 

Unfortunately, there was only so much you could do when it came to matters involving his heart, especially when it had always been out of your reach from the very start.

“Noah?” Your voice croaked as you turned back to the dim hallway to search for him. “Noah, where are you?”

It only took you a couple of steps, though, before a pair of strong, familiar arms grabbed and lightly pushed you against the wall.

“Hey, are you okay?” You cooed, eyes softening at your best friend’s silhouette towering over you. While you couldn’t make out his face clearly, you could see that he’d changed into one of his muscle tees, his arm tattoos now on full display. “W-what happened–”

“What took you so long?” Noah grumbled, not letting you finish. Reeking of alcohol and weed, his hot breath hit your forehead as he slowly pressed his body against you, moving his large hands to your bare arms. You swallowed nervously at how the warmth of his palms rubbed against your cold, exposed skin. 

“Have you had dinner?” You inquired, hands gently squeezing his forearms.

“What took you so fucking long?” He repeated, this time the words rolled off his tongue through gritted teeth. 

Noah slowly caged your body against the wall as he crouched down to rest his forehead against yours– the gesture making your eyes go wide. His knitted eyebrows and bloodshot eyes were now visible.

“N-Noah, are you ok–”

“Why can’t you answer me, huh?” He sneered, cutting you off once again. “I fucking waited for five hours.” 

Your heartbeat had found an abnormal pace when his face inched closer and closer to yours, his hot breath fanning your cheek while one of his hands crawled down to grip your hip.

“I came here as fast as I could when you–”

“You couldn’t even…” He did not bother to hear you explain, letting out a heavy breath as he squeezed his eyes shut before his voice started to crack. “You couldn’t even fucking tell me.” 

Tell him what?

Now puzzled, you slightly pushed your drunk best friend’s shoulder away from you; your other hand went up to cup his cheek as you tried searching for his now glossy eyes.

“Hey, hey, you’re drunk. Let’s get you to bed, big guy,” you whispered as your thumb started stroking his cheekbone. 

“Goddammit, what the fuck took you so long!?” 

You flinched at his sudden snap, your reflex making you pull away from him despite the nonexistent space he put between you. 

This was a version of your best friend you hadn’t met before. You had seen Noah get angry and annoyed countless times, but never in your whole life did he ever raise his voice at you. 

Not even when you had accidentally broken the old acoustic guitar that his grandpa gave him when he was 13.

Noah was breathing heavily as you felt him squeeze your hip tighter than usual. His sudden outburst made your eyes well up, your lips starting to quiver like a little kid scolded by her parent. 

“Noah, I-I don’t understand…”

“Shh, baby,” he cut you off once more by placing his index finger against your lips, proceeding to brush some hair away from your face. 

You swallowed hard, blinking back tears. Your gaze followed his every move nervously as you noticed his demeanor shifting. His lazy eyes scanned your face while his hand gently cupped your cheek, inked fingers caressing your skin as if to say sorry for yelling. 

And it was as if his touch were hypnotic, because soon enough, you found your breath evening as you closed your eyes to savor the warmth his big palm afforded. A selfish part of you wanted to enjoy this moment with the love of your life, not giving a damn about his current drunken state and apparent mood swing. 

This was the guy you wanted your whole life after all– the guy you’d be willing to sell your soul to the devil if he asked you to. 

How others could easily take him for granted was beyond you.  

But the rational best friend in you knew this was wrong. 

You heaved out a sigh, eyelids fluttering as you met his gaze again. 

Your brain was telling you to push him away and talk some sense into him, but your thoughts were easily cut off by Noah tucking your hair behind your ear. With your eyes going wide, he dipped his head lower, making you gasp as his lips brushed lightly against the side of your mouth. 

You went stiff as you felt him pull you closer, one hand pressing against the small of your back, as he moved down to place feather-light kisses along your jaw. 

Now your face started burning, your legs turning to jelly as panic started creeping in. 

All your life, Noah had only kissed you on the head in nothing but a friendly manner. 

Why the fuck was he kissing your face like you were his long-time girlfriend? Like it was you whom he was proposing to tonight?

Then it finally dawned on you. 

He had always been an impulsive and forgetful drunk, and tonight was no exception. In his inebriated state, the chances of his mistaking you for someone else were high enough to alarm you.

It certainly did not help that you and his girlfriend had the same build, save for the small height difference.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Noah whispered against the skin below your ear before nibbling on it. “Where have you been all night, hm?”

“Noah, I’m not–”

Your best friend shut you up once again, but this time by doing that one thing you thought you would never experience with him in this lifetime. 

Everything happened in slow motion as if you were in a fever dream.

You saw him pull his head back, smiling at you lazily before he dipped his head to close the gap between your lips.

Without a second thought.

Your breath hitched, heart thumping so fast you feared it might rip your chest open as you felt your best friend’s wet lips moving against yours. 

The same pair of lips you had been dreaming of kissing since you were 17.

As you remained frozen in place, the thoughts in your head started to go berserk, trying to make sense of the situation you found yourself in.

Noah Davis– that one guy who had been your constant since you learned to add and subtract; someone who unexpectedly became the only person whose heart you wanted to have your whole life– was now devouring your lips like it was a normal thing to do. All while you went stiffly pressed against his huge frame. 

His hand caressed your cheek, tilting your chin up when he slightly pulled away before diving right back into you open-mouthed, his chestnut fringe tickling your forehead and making your spine tingle. 

His soft tongue grazed your lips, and you found yourself slowly parting them as you welcomed the taste of alcohol and nicotine… of the kiss you had been wishing for god knows how long.

Your heart wanted to reciprocate so so badly— to have your hand gently caress his warm cheeks, to press your bodies together— but your brain was telling you otherwise. The logical side of you wanted to break away and perhaps slap some sense into your best friend’s head.

This was wrong. So wrong.

What about his girlfriend? 

He proposed… didn’t he?

With all your might, you pushed his chest off you, successfully pulling away from his hungry lips. Groaning from the interruption, Noah kept a tight hold on your hips, not letting go of you just yet.

Your heart was still pounding as you took in the look on his face. The dimly lit room did not stop you from noticing his clenched jaw, his scrunched brows, and the faint quiver of his plump bottom lip. 

“Noah? Let me go,” you breathed out, tapping lightly on his chest. “C’mon, you’re drunk. I am not Alexis.”

He let out a sharp breath as he again rested his forehead against yours. And as if to compensate for the contact that you just deprived him of, his swollen lips moved to reach your neck, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He started to nibble on the skin and place tiny kisses down to your exposed shoulder.

You shut your eyes tight, trying to fight off the warm sensation blooming in your stomach.

This was so fucking wrong.

“Noah…” 

He hummed in response, lightly blowing on the crook of your neck before shamelessly sucking on what he now knew was your sensitive spot. 

“I waited for so long,” he mumbled against your shoulder, both of his arms snaking around your torso to envelop you in a hug. “I thought you were not coming anymore, baby.”

“Noah, I’m not Alex–”

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he whispered before pecking the skin that he sucked and left a bruise on. “I’m not mad at you… I will never be mad at you.”

And as if expecting your next move, your best friend did not let you protest any longer as he pressed your bodies together and backed you completely against the wall. Hearing you gasp tugged a playful smirk on his lips, especially when he deliberately slotted his crotch onto your lower belly, making your face heat up with the apparent feeling of his clothed bulge resting on your stomach.

“Noah, w-what are you doing?” You stuttered, your voice breaking and breath quickening, no longer trying to conceal the fear creeping in. “You’re scaring me.”

You tried to search for his eyes, looking for any sign– anything– that would tell you he was just messing around. But his face remained buried in the crook of your neck, ignoring your obvious discomfort. One of his hands moved down to cup your ass, kneading your flesh before pushing your lower body more against his. 

“Please… Noah, you’re drunk.” Feeling your eyes starting to water, you prayed that a part of him could still listen to reason. 

Your hands curled around his shirt as he continued to mouth along your throat down to your collarbone, his arousal grinding against you.

“Noah… you… you do not want me…” You choked back a sob, whispering the words as if you did not want anyone to hear, including yourself. “I– I’m not Lexi...”

A stray tear escaped your eye, your voice now barely a whisper. “You love her… not me.”

And then you felt his movements stop. The sound of clothes rustling and skin touching halted in an instant. 

Noah’s forehead dropped onto your shoulder, and all you could hear was his heavy breathing and the thumping of your heart against your chest.

With your trembling hand, you cradled the back of his head, slowly weaving your fingers with the ends of his overgrown hair. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whimpered.

And just as you were about to push him off, Noah’s shoulders shook lightly. You heaved out a sigh as your hand gently rubbed his back.

“I…” he croaked against your skin. “I love you so much… why- why can’t you understand that?”

Your stomach dropped. 

Nothing could’ve prepared you for this. 

Who would’ve thought that it was still possible to have your already broken heart cut into tiny pieces in just one night?

“Do I… not mean something to you anymore? All those years… those promises we made… are they all for nothing?”

Biting your lip, you chose not to say anything and just let him cry in your arms, your own tears freely shedding with his.

“What does he have that I don’t?” 

Wincing, you muttered a curse. 

You had so many questions running through your head as to why your best friend got shitfaced drunk on what was supposed to be a special night.

Now things started making sense. 

“Just tell me what I can do to fix this… anything…” he hiccuped. “I’ll do anything. Give me a chance to fix us, baby.”

And then you felt his lips on you once again— on your shoulder, towards your collarbone, moving up to your jawline.

“Fuck… let me show you how much I love you…” Noah breathed out, placing a chaste kiss below your ear. His thumb wiped off the tear stains on your face before his lips peppered your cheeks with tiny kisses– each of them lingering as if asking, begging, you to just give him this night.

“Please, baby?” 

Your heart raced anew, your puffy eyes finally meeting your best friend’s lidded ones. 

You knew it was wrong. But what else could you do to ease his pain tonight? (A/N: stupid girl)

Swallowing hard, you scanned his face before sucking in a deep breath– before finding yourself surrendering to the man whom you had willingly let hold your heart in a vice grip.

It’s just a temporary fix, anyway. You had done it with others before; it shouldn’t be a big deal… right?

You had made so many bad decisions for the unrequited love you had for this guy. 

What’s one more?

Right?

Nodding, you slowly whispered, “O-okay.”

–

Sadly, sleeping with your hammered best friend was apparently way more than a bad decision.

Noah had started acting feral when you finally returned his kiss for the first time. All of his softness completely thrown out of the window, he had hungrily devoured you while skillfully moving you to the living room couch without breaking contact. 

Then things happened in a blur. 

You had let Noah undress you, almost ripping off your underwear, before laying you down on the soft cushion and prying your legs open. The next thing you knew, you were squealing as his lips wrapped around your sensitive flesh, tongue poking your entrance. 

And while you let your hand grab onto his hair, you were still afraid of feeling things beyond your activated libido. So you decided to look away, turning your face to stare into the empty television screen instead, as though you could still pretend this was all normal. 

After a few licks, Noah repositioned himself above you, forcibly turning your face towards him to connect your lips. And as your tongues met, you felt his bulbous tip press into your hole, his mouth swallowing your gasp.

“Did you miss me?” He whispered against your ear, his smirk evident in his voice. All while you whimpered at the burn of the unfamiliar stretch. 

Taking him inch by inch, you squeezed your eyes shut as you buried your face into his damp shirt.

He did not even bother taking his clothes off while he spread you completely naked underneath him.

“M’fuck…” he grunted, bottoming out with one hard thrust, forcing a cry from you. Noah chuckled against your neck as he slowly moved, not even giving you time to adjust. “I don’t remember you being this fuckin’ tight… Alexis.”

You couldn’t help but wince– both at the name he called you and the stinging sensation in your core. Noah being drunk did not prepare you much, and given his size, you knew from the beginning this would hurt.

And yeah, it truly did.

Tears that you barely noticed in your eyes started running down your face with each pull and slam of his hips. You chewed on your lower lip, whimpering with the way he moved his shaft along your tight walls.

“Did he ever fuck you like this, hm?” Picking up his pace, Noah grumbled as his mouth moved, tracing the column of your neck down to your exposed chest. He wrapped his lips around a nipple before sucking it and releasing it with a pop. “Is he even bigger than me? Huh?”

All you could do was gasp at the different sensations he was making you feel. While his cock was tearing you open, the way his mouth worked on your body was at least helping distract you from the pain you were feeling down there.

“N-Noah… ah—”

“Yeah, that’s right, baby. Moan my name.” He shifted to a kneeling position, bringing your hips up to meet his thrusts. “M’gonna fucking ruin you for that son of a bitch.”

Noah pounded into you as if his life depended on it, the sound of his grunts and your skin slapping creating a sinking feeling in your stomach. 

Chasing his own high, strings of curses left your best friend’s mouth amid his shameless moans and your quiet whimpers. 

Your hand descended towards your clit, trying to also reach your own peak, at the very least. But you had barely even touched yourself when Noah’s body tensed up, his stuttering hips slamming into you hard as you felt spurts of his warm come shoot inside you.

Panting, he slumped forward, his broad frame going limp on top of you as his cock throbbed inside your walls.

Not even a small amount of care for your own pleasure.

As he came down from his high, Noah did not bother pulling out. He instead wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your naked body impossibly close to his clothed one.

“Fuck… Lex, I love you,” he sobbed against your hair, still trying to catch his breath. “I love you so fucking much.”

The sound of your heart breaking hit you once more as he uttered the next words. 

Although you were no longer sure if it was still him that your heart was breaking for.

“I’ll do anything… Just please… don’t leave me.”

–

It was past three in the morning when Noah passed out on top of you on the living room couch. When you finally felt his even breathing and his soft snores, you carefully rolled him off you as you wiggled out of his grasp. Quietly sniffling, you hurriedly picked up your clothes and got dressed. But before heading for the front door, you hesitantly fixed his clothes before draping a throw blanket over his shoulders.

You paused for a second, letting out a sharp breath as you stared at your best friend— at his peaceful sleeping face adorned with little scars and freckles that you had always wanted to trace with your fingers your whole life.

A single tear escaped your eye as you felt your stomach drop anew.

How on earth could you get to this level of stupidity?

How could you throw away the littlest ounce of respect you had left for yourself just to please a guy whom you knew would never feel the same way?

And as you made your way home, you finally let the dam break wide open.

You had never felt so disgusting.

You curled up like an infant as soon as you got into your bed, sobs racking your body so hard as your mind could not stop replaying the things you let your drunk best friend do… the things you forced yourself to take for him despite the repercussions. 

At this point, all you wanted was to drift off and forget. 

But sleep did not come easily. It was as if the universe was punishing you and letting you drown in your miserable thoughts instead of allowing you to forget temporarily.

The hours dragged on and on with you staring at your ceiling, with tears trickling down your temple, with self-deprecating thoughts keeping your mind alive and awake despite your body surrendering to exhaustion. 

It was only when the sun started showing itself that your puffy eyes finally fluttered closed, tear ducts finally running out of supply, the cogs in your brain that have been guilting you finally slowing down.

And a few hours after crying yourself to sleep, your phone started pinging in the corner of your room…

Ruffilo Hey have you heard? Lexi dumped your boy yesterday Turns out she’s been seeing some guy from work for quite some time now Received 08:10 Did Noah still propose? Fuck this is messed up dude Did you know? Is he ok? Received 08:17 Talked to him just now He was so disoriented lmao Told me he needs you. Your boy needs some lovin 😏 Received 12:39

A series of notifications continued lighting up the screen, seemingly taunting you unknowingly while you remained curled up in your bed of self-pity.

Noah🦒Davis Yo Sorry i was fucking wasted last night i forgot to text you Can you come over? Received 12:47 Wait, why is your jacket here lol Did i call you last night? Haha wtf did i do now Received 13:01 Noah🦒Davis calling…  Call missed 13:05 Call missed 13:08 Call missed 13:15 Call missed 14:15 Noah🦒Davis Hey, you still sleeping? Call me back Received 14:16 Noah🦒Davis calling…  Call missed 15:31 Call missed 15:50 Call missed 16:45 Noah🦒Davis Yo sleeping beauty Received 16:48 Noah🦒Davis calling… Call missed 16:59 Noah🦒Davis Are you okay? Received 17:01 Seen 17:15 Noah🦒Davis calling… Call missed 19:15 Noah🦒Davis Are we okay? Received 19:23 Seen 19:31

###

Sometimes this whole agreement feels a little odd — in reality you couldn’t be happier that you had ended up with him and not some sleazebag who would be all too excited to abuse the delicate balance you have. But no, Jolly doesn’t want a lot from you in exchange for what he gives you. He doesn't want sex or favours, all he asks for is company. You’re still not entirely sure how he came to have all of this money. He’s never said that the topic is off limits, but who are you to question that hand that quite literally feeds you.

Aside from the apartment, Jolly provides you with a generous allowance for your everyday expenses. That balance doesn’t include purchases for events he takes you to.

You’re going some fancy dinner later today. He’s already taken you to various beauty treatments, fully knowing that you wouldn’t do it on your own. You also know how much joy it brings him to pamper you. Making sure that you’re well taken care of is one of his favourite things.

You pick up your phone from the bedside table.

As always there’s a text from Jolly already waiting for you.

Good morning my dear, I’m coming over with breakfast at 9. The stylist is coming an hour earlier so that you’ll have more time to get ready.

You check the time — it’s just after eight.

One of Jolly’s requests for you had been that you follow a daily routine he had set up for you. Really it’s a small thing in return for everything he does for you. If you hadn’t met him when you did your financial situation could have ended up a lot more — dire. And if all you have to do in return is go to events with him and get up when he asks you to you’d gladly do it. The routine had come up in one of your early conversations, where you had mentioned that structuring your days sometimes felt like an overwhelming nightmare. He’d offered to make it part of the exchange, giving you a little helping hand to figure things out.

You know that he will expect you to be ready by the time he arrives, so you will yourself out of bed and under the shower. You had quickly learned that Jolly moves in a very different sphere from you. When you had first moved into this place, it had been stocked with luxury products that would have been very far out of your price range before. He’d been surprised to find that you preferred the less expensive products you have been used to over the fancy stuff he enjoyed. Of course, you had kept some of his recommendations now that you could afford them. Some of the skincare items he had encouraged you to buy when he had taken you out for a shopping trip, had become new favourites of yours.

Jolly never enters your apartment without notifying you first, despite having a key. You buzz him into the place, patiently waiting by the door for him. A few minutes pass before you hear the elevator doors slide open, announcing that he's made it to your floor. You still feel a little nervous around him. Something about him sets your entire nervous system alight. Your heart makes a little thump when he rounds the corner towards your door.

Jolly gives you a little wave, holding up the paper bag from one of the cafés he likes to get breakfast from on occasion. He tries to meet you for breakfast at least once a week, but you know that his schedule doesn’t always permit that. He’s a busy man, which is exactly why he has struggled with traditional relationships. The agreement you have gives him what he wants — company and someone to take care of — and takes the financial burden off your shoulders. The parameters of your relationship had changed over the weeks and month. He had eased off some of his initially rather controlling demeanour, while you had learned that you learned that you liked having someone else in charge on occasion.

“Good morning, dear.” he says, coming to stand in front of you.

As always, he’s dressed in all black. The surprise is that his hair is down for once — a weakness of yours, but you won’t let him know that. Your relationship isn’t like that. He’s made it explicitly clear that isn’t for anything romantic or sexual.

“Good morning.” you mirror.

You allow him into your space. Whatever he’s brought for your breakfast today smells absolutely divine. Jolly walks ahead of you into the kitchen. He’ll prepare whatever still needs to be done. You take your usual seat by the kitchen island.

“How was your night? Did you sleep alright?” he asks, as he begins to work on your coffees.

“The new pillows are a lot better.” you reply, “Thank you for buying them.”

“Of course, dear. I’m glad they helped you.” Jolly says with a soft smile.

You watch him for a moment. The practised repetition makes his movements look so very effortless. You love watching him. It’s a brief glimpse into something you won’t ever have.

“How did you sleep?” You ask after a few more moments of silence.

Jolly lets out a heavy sigh, “It was a very short night for me. I had to let go one of my assistants and spent most of the night cleaning up his mess.”

With how tense his shoulders look it’s easy to tell how heavy this all weighs on him. You flash him a sympathetic look, hoping that it’ll ease some of that burden.

“I’m sorry. At least we’ll have a nice day today.”

“That we will.” He says softly, “Would you be so kind and put out plates on the table, dear? We’ll need the big ones.”

You do as he asks, plucking two of the gorgeous flower motif plates from the drawer. When you had moved into this place, Jolly had given you several options for the interior, allowing you to make the space feel like it’s truly your own.

“What did you get for us?” You ask as you place the plates and cutlery on the table.

“I went to the little boulangerie you like so much. I got you that yogurt pot you like from there too.”

The gesture makes your heart thump a little. He remembers so much of what you tell him, all of the little one time mentions appear to be saved somewhere in his head.

In a couple of minutes the table is set with all the options he brought. It’s a nice spread of things, some of it will be left over and as always he will insist that you keep all of it here.

You don’t bring up work again once you’ve sat down for breakfast. Jolly has once told you that being in your apartment feels like he’s able to actually clock out for the first time. He leaves his phone in the chest of drawers next to your door when he arrives and only picks it up again when he leaves.

He asks about your week, how your lunch with friends was the day before. And in turn you ask about the trip he’s mentioned — a week in Sydney.

“Do you want to come with me?” He asks between bites of his pastry.

He's been on trips before since you started this, but this is the first time he’s asked if you’d join him.

“I only have two meeting that week so you wouldn't have to be alone a lot. I know you’ve wanted to go.”

“I wouldn't want to be a burden.” You reply out of habit.

Jolly flashes you a stern look, “What have I told you about this?”

You what he wants to hear from you.

Your constant worry about burdening him had clashed with his desire to care for someone right from the start. Jolly’s determination to make you actually believe that you’re not burdening him is honestly commendable.

“I know you said it’s not a burden.”

“It's not.” He says, still sounding rather stern, “You know that me taking care of you is a part of this agreement. I would have asked you to come with me on other trips, but I wouldn’t have had a lot of time for you. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m dragging you along for my entertainment only.”

His hand shifts on the surface of table and for a second you wonder if he’s going to reach out for you.

But he doesn’t.

You’ve only slowly started get closer physically. You suppose that both of you have been hesitant to do that out of the worry that it’ll bring you too close. And so you stay at a distance, always careful to not get too attached to him.

You agree to come to Sydney with him, even if it already fills you with nerves.

It’ll be nice to see more of the world — especially with him.

After breakfast, Jolly excuses himself again to get back to his work for a couple of hours. He’ll be back in time to pick you up for dinner, meaning that you’ll have most of the day to yourself.

He only returns when the stylist is already there and hard at work. This is another thing you’re not quite used to yet. Before you would have just done all of this on your own, but Jolly makes hiring a stylist sound like the most normal thing to do.

You catch him watching you from the door. And as much as you try to deny it there’s something awfully fond about the way he looks at you. He’s already dressed for the evening — sharp as always in a clean all black suit and shirt.

“Absolutely gorgeous — as always.” he says as the stylist steps away to view their work.

The stylist looks over to him, waiting for him to say more.

“Thank you for your work. I’ll take care of the rest.” He says after a few more seconds.

You watch silently as the stylist picks up. As they leave, they inform Jolly of something you can quiet hear from where you’re sitting. He gives a curt nod, shakes their hand and shows them towards the door.

He waits until the door has fallen shut again before he steps back into the bedroom.

“They did great work, didn’t they? Not that it’d be hard with you.” He says gently, “You look wonderful, my dear.”

He comes to stand behind you, placing his hands on the back of your chair. His eyes find yours in the mirror, watching you closely for a long moment.

“With the dress we picked you’ll be the centre of attention tonight. I’ll have to keep a close eye on you.”

You feel your cheeks tinge pink at his words. The attention he gives you always makes you feel a little nervous.

“Why don’t you go get dressed? I’ll help you zip up.” He says after a few more seconds of tense silence.

Jolly pulls your chair back as you get up. His hand catches your shoulders, stopping you from moving too far away. It wanders towards your chin, allowing him to inspect your face properly. You want to shrink away from the attention. It’s almost too much to bear, but the soft smile on his face somehow makes it all feel better.

“Gorgeous.” he says with a nod, “Now go. I don’t want us to be late.”

You scamper off into the dressing room where your dress is waiting for you. It’s a beautiful dark green number. You hadn’t picked it purely because it was Jolly’s favourite but you always consider his opinion when you make your choices.

“I talked to our host tonight. You’ll enjoy the menu.” Jolly says from the other room, “If you can't find anything I’ll take you to the diner afterwards.”

Your tummy does a little flip at that. It’s a small thing, but he always watches out for it. Always makes sure that you find something good to eat, despite how picky you can be about the choices. He’s never made a big deal out of it when he cooks for you either.

Jolly pokes his head into the room just as you slip the dress on. You watch him approach you in the mirror.

“This may be the best one we got for you so far.” he muses, as he places a warm hand on your shoulder, “I’ll have to come up with more occasions for you to wear it.”

“I’m sure you can find something.”

You feel him dragging the zipper upwards entirely too slowly almost as if he’s trying to make the moment last. His fingers linger on your skin for longer than they usually would. The touch is tender, gentle and so much more intimate. It makes every hair on your body stand up straight. Every inch of your body crawls with nerves you try so hard to suppress.

“We should go.” he says then, seemingly having shaken off the trance he’d found himself in, “Wouldn’t want us to be late.”

The dinner is good but — as always — rather boring.

Jolly’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh unless it absolutely has to. For most of the night it remains firmly attached to your leg. And for once you can quite decide if the gesture is comforting or possessive. He does make good on his promise to keep an eye on you. Every man that so much as looks at you is met with a very intent glare from him.

You mingle with some of the other plus ones while Jolly is entangled in his business conversations but thankfully you do t have to wait very long for him to return.

“Are you ready to head home?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your middle.

You give him a nod, before briefly returning your attention to the girl you’d been talking to.

“It was so nice to meet you.” You tell her, “I’ll text you and then we can figure out a date to meet up.”

You can feel Jolly’s approving gaze on your face. He’s always encouraged you to make your own connections at these events, all in the hopes that you'll eventually have circle to fall back on when he’s not there. He’s acknowledged how isolating this agreement could be for you. Some of your friends hadn’t been exactly accepting of your new situation, calling you all sorts of awful names. It had been hard to let them go despite their behaviour. Having Jolly to support you through it had been tremendously helpful.

“Driver is on his way already.” Jolly tells you as he walks you back towards the elevator, “Did you have a good time?”

“It was nice.” You reply, “The food was good and I met some nice people.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you had a good time.”

His hand is still resting on your waist when you step into the elevator. Normally this is the moment where he stops touching you. He doesn't have to keep up appearances once you're behind closed doors.

Tonight, his hand remains where it is.

“People kept asking me where I found my gorgeous girlfriend.” Jolly says, and you don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smiling, “I told them we met in a cafe.”

“It is true. Technically.”

He nods, “It is. We should go back some time. The pastries there were really nice there if I remember correctly.”

“I would like that.”

Jolly nods solemnly, but doesn’t get to say more as the elevator arrives at the lowest level — the parking garage.

The air inside the car feels stuffy — thick with something you know you can't have. That craving you have for him has never been stronger. He’s been so tactile with you, always touching you somehow. You know that you’ll never have a real relationship with him, Jolly has been more than clear about this. He doesn’t want romance and you’re not even sure if he’s even interested in something more physical.

It wasn’t explicitly ruled out in your initial agreement, but you had agreed to keep things as platonic as possible for the time being.

Regardless of what you agreed on something has changed tonight. And when you arrive back at your apartment, it becomes even more evident. Jolly drops his jacket onto the arm of your sofa.

“Would you mind if I stayed here tonight?” He asks, sounding almost a little timid.

You watch him closely.

This is new.

“Of course.” You reply quickly.

His shoulders immediately slump with relief.

“I didn’t want to assume. We don’t have to do anything. I just — I think need a little bit of that.”

You’ve noticed it throughout the day. He’s never sought this much physical contact before.

“I think that’ll be nice for both of us. I missed getting cuddles.” You reply and you try your best to hide the nerves that come with the statement.

Settling into bed with him is odd. It feels like you’re sharing a bed with a new partner for the first time and in way it is exactly like that. For a few seconds everything feels awful and stilted. You don’t know how close you can get to him without it being too much. Jolly seems to sense your reluctance. His hand loops around your middle, pulling you close against his chest.

“Is this okay for you?” He asks softly.

You shift for a few seconds, trying to get comfortable before you nod, “This is good.”

Behind you, Jolly lets out a content hum. You feel his hands shifting across your middle, until one big hand settles against your stomach. It’s heavy and warm, comforting in ways you haven’t felt before. You let yourself sink into his embrace, allowing his warmth to take over your entire being.

You don’t know how you’ve ever gone without this — or how you’ll go on without this closeness should he decide that this is a one time only thing.

And then you feel it. A barely there kiss pressed against your bare shoulder.

Your relationship has changed fundamentally tonight, and you already know that he’ll want to have a conversation about it in the morning.

And for once you don’t dread this conversation.