#wulfcop

her reply is a side - glance , not even that harsh , really : simply confused . she’s not exactly a fan of small talk , even less when it’s on the job : knee deep in a crime scene , her mind wrapped around each clue , each detail it can pick up — and then disrupted by that comment , and the fact that she really does not get it , at all . she’s partial to ignoring it , letting it go — she also knows it will bother her to no end , if she doesn’t get an explanation out of him . “ i was top of my class . so ? ”

              “   You’ll be pleased to hear I haven’t knitted you anything.   ”   Late morning light creeps under the curtains as Noah rubs at his eyes, still half asleep. Today would be full of people celebrating, but for now the birthday boy was all his. Mostly because Ben was sat on him. It was true that no knitted gifts had ended up in the pile sitting next to the bed, but that didn’t mean Ben had no plans to make his boyfriend something to wear for the winter. Noah couldn’t refuse a pair of mittens. Those were relationship rules. Slowly, he leans down to press a kiss against his forehead. The words Happy Birthday die on his tongue. 

              Noah had been miserable all week. If not for longer. Obvious enough when asked about his birthday, Ben had also caught him staring off into space more than once, sighing with the weight of the world. It was the kind of struggle Ben couldn’t do something to fix, and it created a knot of anxiety in his stomach. Snapping out of it, he straightens back up. Crisis or not, everyone loved presents, right?   “   Now, the first one is cheesy. And overdone. You don’t have to tell me.   ”   Reaching over the bed, Ben picks up the framed print: the constellations from the night they met. Suddenly aware that said date might only be special for him, he shrugs, keeping it casual.    “   Just thought it might be nice to remember a night that isn’t a full moon.   ”   Placing it next to them, he grabs item number two. 

              It’s small: a handmade booklet, complete with a very handsome portrait of said birthday boy on the front. Inside, Ben had made a wide variety of vouchers that Noah could use on him. From chores to the slightly more ridiculous. Of course, there was a sexy section. He winks, pressing it to his chest.   “   Maybe don’t open that in public.   ”   After that, it’s a flurry of things, from dinosaur shaped sandwich cutters to a jacket Ben had caught him window-gazing at. Robin had promised to handle something bike-related, much to his relief. Satisfied that he’d been appropriately spoiled, Ben moves in for another kiss. 

              Gently, Ben maps his face with one hand, the other moving through his hair.  “    —I love you.   ”   Too much. There it was again: the fear of his desire. That how much he adored Noah might simply break him.   “   I’m sorry I’m always teasing you. Bringing you down. I think part of me is scared that when you realise how incredible you are, you won’t look at me twice.   ”   Take the other day, when he’d put his hand between Noah’s legs and joked he couldn’t find it. Given the emotion of the moment, he manages not to snort. Instead, he brings their foreheads together.   “   I love you more than anything. I’m sorry about how you feel. And don’t feel any pressure to enjoy yourself. Just focus on what you want me to make you for breakfast, okay?   ” 

         Ben knows this isn’t normal. For one, he slept with friends all the time. Okay, slight rephrase. He’d hooked up with acquaintances before. Was Noah even his friend? Ben was probably a significant annoyance to him, at best. But sex didn’t equal feelings. Even if it had been really, really good. Mind-blowingly so. Maybe that was why he’d been thinking of him all week.

        Yet his instinct had been to bolt straight after, avoiding even Shay until she’d demanded he show up today. Standing in the corner of the kitchen he’d been trying to avoid Noah in, it’s pretty clear why. Even the back of his neck is enough to fill Ben with want. To run his hands through his hair, and slowly down his back. Across the healing marks he knew weren’t caused by anything human. To tell him he was okay with that. Ben wants Noah to see him. To want him back.

        Technically, the Romantic poets weren’t talking about a one night stand with a guy who might or might not be your pal when they wrote about heartache. Ben always cared too much, too easily. So he does the grown-up thing to do, and sulks about it. It’s the fourth time glancing over his way when Ben catches Noah staring. Any resolve he had to keep his distance is quick to crumble. Head versus heart had a nice ring to it, but it didn’t quite articulate the part of Ben that wanted Noah to pick him up and slam him through the drywall. It’s easy enough to slyly send a text under the table. Noah’s phone buzzes, and this time it’s Ben’s turn to stare.