Rock the Cradle of Love

by Jen FitzGerald

  Noah nods.

  “What he told me?”

  Noah nods again.

  Taylor sets his beer down. Why is this so hard? Out of everyone he knows, Noah is the least judgmental or flappable person Taylor has ever met. He’s not going to freak out or make a big deal out of it. “Noah, it’s you. The dude I’m interested in. You’re him.”

  Noah’s eyebrows arch and he looks away. “Oh.” A nervous smile plays at his lips. Plump pink lips that are showcased by the trim mustache and short auburn stubble he maintains.

  Lips that Taylor would love to feel under his own. But he’s getting ahead of himself. “Is there any chance for us?” he asks. “I mean, I’ve never seen you pick up, and then there’s Julia, though I know you’re just friends. I have no clues for context, so all I can do is ask…”

  Noah nods, scratches his head. A faint blush colors his cheeks. “Well… I’m asexual.”

  Taylor opens his mouth, then closes it. Words escape him at the moment. That’s not what he expected to hear. At all. Noah focusing on his career would have been the logical answer. Noah choosing to be celibate would have been less surprising.

  “About one percent of the population could be asexual,” explains Noah. “Most people who identify as asexual are women though. I’m a minority of a minority of a minority.”

  Taylor traces the hem of his shorts across his thigh. “What does that mean exactly? Being asexual?”

  An amused snort escapes Noah. “There’s no exactly. Everyone is different. For me, it means not becoming sexually aroused by anything, including other people, the way most of the population does. Sight, sound, smell. Nothing makes me want to have sex with someone.”

  “I… that’s—” Taylor has no desire to insult Noah or anyone else, but he can’t imagine not being turned on by anything. “Okay.”

  Noah’s gentle smile eases Taylor’s rising level of confusion.

  Noah takes another breath and more color rises on his cheeks. “My…junk works. I can, uh, masturbate, get hard, and come. It’s just not accompanied by what I’m told are a lot of heightened physical feelings.”

  “Okay,” Taylor says again, for lack of knowing what else to say. Bizarre is the only way to describe this conversation. Never in a million years would he have imagined having a conversation like this with another dude. Hell, with anyone.

  “It’s hard to understand, I know, because sex sells and sex makes the world go round. And it all makes sense to those of you with a libido.”

  Taylor’s brain is whirling. He’s not quite sure what to ask now. He’d wanted to find out if there’s a chance they could be together, but he’s still as in the dark as he was two minutes ago, before he opened his mouth. “If most the of population likes sex and you don’t…”

  Noah’s eyebrow quirks.

  “…get aroused like most of the rest of us, how does that work? I mean, have you ever had sex?” Taylor claps a hand over his mouth. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”

  Noah sets his beer on the table and shifts in his seat so he’s fully facing Taylor.

  “I think what you want to know is if I’d be interested in exploring a relationship with you?”

  “That was my original intent, yes. But I’m a guy who likes sex. A lot. And you’ve just told me… Hell. I don’t even know what you told me, really.” Taylor takes a long swig from his bottle, hoping to swallow or drown his confusion with beer. Right…a guy who loves sex in a relationship with a guy who seems to have no urges whatsoever. How’s that even supposed to work? A small part of Taylor thinks this is a mistake, thinks he should have kept his fucking trap shut. But the bigger part of him knows it’s better this way. Even if there’s no chance, he was honest. Noah knows how Taylor feels, and Taylor can’t help but think that’s a good thing. He’ll assure Noah that he’ll get over it and move on. He’ll sign up on a dating website and meet people during the summer. He’ll have a lot of sex and get over Noah. Come pre-season, everything will be fine.

  Noah’s snapping fingers bring Taylor out of his thoughts. He blinks and meets Noah’s gaze.

  Noah smiles and waves his fingers between them. “This here, what we’re doing, it’s called communicating.”

  Taylor rolls his eyes, but smirks.

  “Communication is a good thing.” Noah takes a drink of his beer too. “Okay, so, yes. I’m interested. That is, if I haven’t turned you off because of my asexuality.”

  “Yeah?” Taylor’s stomach loops as if he’s riding the Shock Wave at Six Flags.

  “Yeah.”

  But can they make it work? “I… That’s great. But how’s that even going to work?” He scratches his head.

  “Well, being asexual doesn’t mean I don’t feel emotions. It doesn’t mean I don’t need love and affection just like everyone else. It just means that when it comes to sex…well, I’m not sure what it means, to be honest.” He takes a drink of his beer and then takes a breath. “I’ve had sex a couple of times because I wanted to know what it was all about, but the person I had sex with wasn’t someone I had an emotional investment in.” Noah holds up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, it was consensual, and the girl had all the details to make an informed decision. Steve and Marisol taught informed consent more than almost anything.”

  Taylor shakes his head. It’s a lot. So he grabs the easy question. “Who are Steve and Marisol?”

  “My billet family when I played juniors in Nebraska.”

  “Wow, that’s not your standard birds and bees talk.”

  Noah chuckles and shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t. Marisol teaches gender studies at UNL, so all their kids, including me, got the expanded edition.” Noah smiles and Taylor’s heart lurches. As Noah talks, things fall into place. How he doesn’t always get the sexual innuendos that fly around the locker room. Why he always maintains distance between himself and the women he dances with at clubs when the team goes out. Why he’s never had a girlfriend in all the years Taylor’s known him.

  Taylor feels about Noah the same as he ever did, but he’ still not sure about the sex part. And if Noah doesn’t know, then how will they—

  “One day at a time, okay?” Noah says as if reading Taylor’s mind. “No, we’re probably not going to fall into bed right away like other people might, if you can deal with that, but I like holding hands and I like being close.”

  Noah hooks Taylor’s pinky with his own and Taylor’s breath fuckin’ catches. Wow. Close he can do. Maybe he’s found the one person who’s going to be willing to put up with his over-affectionate nature.

  “We’ll figure out everything else as we go, all right? I get that I’m a square peg in a round hole, but never be afraid to tell me you want something, okay? Those things really don’t occur to me. But I’m willing to try probably just about anything.”

  Taylor just looks at him, wide-eyed.

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah.” Taylor nods. If Noah’s willing to give it a go, he should be too. “Okay. Can I kiss you now?”

  Noah smiles, eyes crinkling at the corner. “I’d like that.”

  Taylor’s a goner. He scoots closer. Their lips meet in a slow slide. It’s soft and gentle and Taylor wants more, God does he want more. He wants to climb onto Noah’s lap and yank off his shirt and touch him everywhere. Two years of fucking pining will do that. But Noah doesn’t feel things that way and is a virgin for all intents and purposes. So Taylor stays where he’s at, but runs his tongue along Noah’s bottom lip. Noah gasps and his lips part.

  Taylor’s gut flips. “This okay?” he whispers into the breath between them. Noah was taught consent. Taylor will have to remember to ask. Noah nods, and Taylor presses in again, skates his tongue along Noah’s lip and into Noah’s mouth. Noah cants his head and adds his own tongue to the mix. Taylor’s got self-control. He really does. He’s exercised it with women plenty of times. Never had to with another guy. But. It’s fine.

  Kissing Noah’s some sort of exquisite torture, but it’s f
ine. As much as he wants to go harder and faster, this slow exploration touches a place inside of him that’s been bereft of tender touches and emotional attachment for far longer than he’d like to admit. Noah’s left hand is in Taylor’s hair and the right is sliding up his arm, and if Noah’s never kissed anyone before, he’s a fucking quick study or just naturally talented.

  “Fuck…” Taylor whispers when they part. His chest is heaving and his heart is trying to break his ribs from the inside out. He adjusts his dick. “What you do to me.”

  Noah peers into Taylor’s lap, at the huge tent in Taylor’s basketball shorts. “Just from kissing me?” he asks in wonder, blue eyes big.

  “You have to understand…” Taylor’s face goes hot. Noah’s been more than forthright; Taylor needs to be the same. “…I haven’t been with anyone in over a year.”

  “Okay,” Noah says, but he’s wearing an expression that indicates he has no idea what that’s like for a guy with a raging sex drive. Which is why the whole idea of the two of them seems like a crazy one once again. But Taylor’s waited this long and has been given a chance. It’s worth a shot, right? Noah’s worth giving a relationship a try.

  “You know how when you’re really super hungry and you just want to eat everything?”

  Noah nods.

  “It’s like that, only worse and more powerful. Because you just want to feel those heightened feelings and bring them to fruition, if you know what I mean? And, uh, I’ve had a thing for you for a while and being with other people didn’t feel right when I wanted to be with you.”

  Noah’s face softens. “Wow. I’m not sure what to say. That’s a sweet gesture considering you had no idea how this would pan out.”

  “Yeah, well, I was just about to give up.”

  Noah smiles. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  “Me too. Can we kiss some more?”

  “We’ll discuss what all requires an ask and what doesn’t later. But from now on, kissing doesn’t, all right?”

  Taylor leans forward, ready to rock Noah’s world when a cry sounds from Noah’s room. His heart sinks and his dick deflates. “Well, shit.”

  Noah chuckles. “Duty calls.”

  Taylor untangles himself from Noah and adjusts his dick again.

  “That was nice,” Noah says, disappearing down the hall.

  “Nice? That was better than nice, Noah,” he calls after him.

  Noah reappears with Emma in his arms. “I still owe you a few more meals. What would you like?”

  “I could make a meal out of you, you know,” Taylor says, waggling his brows. Yeah, he could spend hours nibbling on, licking, biting, sucking Noah off.

  One of Noah’s dark eyebrows arches over a bright blue eye. “Huh. Okay. We can discuss that later. Right now—real food. Protein, carbs, calories.”

  “Right, and after that, Emma’s room. I promised her.”

  Noah snorts. “You promised a three-month-old?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Make me.”

  Taylor raises an eyebrow and kisses him.

  * * *

  Noah floats on a cloud of warmth and comfort. He’s not usually this toasty when he sleeps, but it’s nice and he shuffles toward the warmth. The warmth scoots closer to him, a soft exhale floating on the cool air. Mm... This is a nice dream, and he burrows closer to the body next to him. An arm slides around his waist, and Noah sighs in contentment and drifts back to sleep.

  Eventually, the snoring in Noah’s ear drags him completely from slumber, and he stills. Not a dream. He and Taylor’d been up late again, working on Emma’s room. They’d finished everything they could, aside from anything that required hammering nails into the walls. Because of the change in their relationship, Noah had allowed Taylor to spend the night, as long as Taylor agreed that there’d be no pressure for sex. They needed to have at least one conversation, if not several. But Noah had liked waking up next to Taylor last week and so here they were again.

  Taylor’s wrapped around him like an octopus. Taylor’s hand hangs limply against Noah’s abs. Which would be perfectly fine, but Noah’s got morning wood. He swallows a groan. Noah takes several slow deep breaths and gets his breathing under control.

  How the heck is he going to extricate himself? Last week, Noah’d wanted to drag Taylor back to bed for additional snuggles after waking up with Taylor at his back. Cuddling is one thing, cuddling with a hard-on is another. Especially after saying he doesn’t get aroused by anything but direct stimulation. And after making such a fuss about no sex. A hard-on usually means something.

  He takes another few breaths, closes his eyes, and chills the hell out. Men get morning wood. Taylor’s not going to think anything of it. It’s a natural bodily reaction, and Noah is a fully functioning man.

  In fact, Taylor’s boner is poking him in the butt cheek right this moment. Noah’s heart rate spikes, and his gut tightens. His erection twitches, and he takes a cleansing breath. Taylor’s asleep. Nothing’s going to happen. Nothing would happen if he were awake.

  But his state and his close proximity beg the question: what would anal sex be like? Noah’s experience had been with a woman. It hadn’t been bad, but the sex hadn’t been anything he worried about repeating. Lying here with Taylor, however, evokes strange new sensations inside of him, and he doesn’t know what they mean. He suspects, but…that can’t be. How can it be? The basic tenet of asexuality—a lack of sexual attraction and little interest in sexual activity—has always applied to him.

  Right now though, the compulsion to touch himself is strong. His dick tingles and his fingers twitch to take hold of it. The urge surprises him, and he’s certainly not going to do anything right here, tucked into Taylor’s embrace. With a sigh, he squirms until Taylor loosens his grip and rolls away.

  Noah makes a quiet beeline for the bathroom and cuts on the water for a shower. He wraps a fist around himself and, for the first time in his life, he masturbates to thoughts of another person. Nothing’s different about this except that instead of focusing on the sensations—the hot water pounding against his back, the tug of flesh, the sparks deep in his groin—he’s imaging Taylor’s hands around his dick, on his hip. Taylor’s large hands that wield a hockey stick and hold a precious baby with equal finesse.

  Noah doesn’t realize he’s about to come until his body tenses and his dick goes stiff, but he closes his eyes and strokes himself through it. He’s breathless and weak-kneed, which is new. Guilt and embarrassment immediately replace any pleasure he’d felt in the moment, but by the time he takes care of the business of actually getting clean, they recede enough for him to feel comfortable facing Taylor without giving anything away. What Taylor doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? Noah peeks into his room to make sure Taylor’s still asleep, but sees Taylor holding Emma and crooning softly to her. If Noah were a hunk of chocolate, he’d have melted at the sight.

  Taylor turns around and Noah’s breath hitches at the sight of Taylor standing there, shorts tented by his own morning erection, and looking completely comfortable in his own skin, hard-on and all.

  “Hey, Ems, here’s Daddy now.” Taylor deposits Emma into the crook of Noah’s available arm. “I gotta take a piss, man,” he says, pressing a kiss to Noah’s shoulder and slipping into the bathroom, the door snicking shut behind him.

  Noah’s gaze follows Taylor, and he feels the ghost of Taylor’s lips against his skin. Taylor’s easy display of affection is just that—easy and nice and something Noah could definitely get used to.

  Emma hiccups, drawing Noah’s eyes from the closed door to her smiling face. “Hi, baby girl. I need to get dressed,” he says as he sets her on the bed as best he can with one arm, while the other hand clutches the corners of his towel at his hip.

  Nabbing a pair of boxers out of the drawer, he pulls them on as quickly as possible. He’s more worried about Taylor seeing his junk than he is Emma seeing it, which is silly either way. Taylor’s seen his junk more than a few times in the loc
ker room over the years. Emma’s three months old and doesn’t even know what junk is. Not only that, but Noah’s not inherently modest. You can’t be when you’re on a track leading to professional hockey. More than any other sport, he thinks, hockey is a close-knit community from early in most players’ lives. Teammates spend so much time together on buses and planes and in locker rooms, in hotel rooms, and on ice rinks, that personal space and privacy are rare commodities.

  He’s pulling on shorts when Taylor comes back. “Sorry. You know how it is first thing in the morning.”

  Noah nods and scoops Emma back up. “Breakfast and then what?”

  Taylor loops his arms around both Emma and Noah and kisses them both. “Let’s finish Pretty Pretty Princess’s room and then can we please play that new Xbox game I brought over?”

  Chapter Seven

  Noah kisses first Emma and then Taylor goodbye. He’s a little nervous about what the attorney has to say. As long as Julia follows through with her part of what they talked about and is willing to take whatever legal action she should, Noah can’t imagine anything impeding the adoption. But still. Until he meets with Ms. Padget and until all the papers are signed and filed, a niggle of doubt is going to hover over him like a little black rain cloud.

  “Hey,” says Taylor softly, one arm holding Emma, the other around Noah’s shoulder. Noah breathes in the combined scent of laundry products and Taylor’s cologne. It’s familiar and comforting. “I can still go with.”

  Noah shakes his head and straightens. “I need you with Emma. But thank you. And, hey, I’m meeting my mom afterward. Can I tell her about us?”

  “Really?” Taylor looks pleased.

  Noah nods. It’s only been a week, but things are going well, and he wants to tell someone. Normally, he’d tell Taylor or Julia, but Taylor obviously knows and Julia, well…this probably isn’t the best time to flaunt a new relationship.

  “Of course, yeah.”

  They share another kiss that turns messy fast—Noah’s discovered he likes kissing a lot—but he finally pulls away. “I gotta go.” One more quick peck and Noah’s out the door, the jacket of one of his best game-day suits draped over an arm.