A Still, Small Voice

by D. W. Marchwell

  “Stop, please, wanna fuck you,” Paul pleaded and tried to move Noah’s head. “Fuck, Noah,” Paul said, and Noah figured it was a surrender when Noah did not stop his ministrations. Noah felt the heavy balls pull up, the thighs begin to tremble slightly, and when he pressed a thumb into the soft flesh between balls and asshole, Noah heard a strangled cry just moments before he felt the heated cum hit the back of his throat.

  Noah felt uneasy now that Paul had climaxed. Should Noah lie on the bed beside Paul and just assume that Paul would take care of his needs now? Or should Noah prepare himself for potential guilt, the kind that would see Paul hastily put his clothes on and make some sort of excuse about forgetting an important appointment?

  “Come here,” Paul said, sitting up, his hands pulling down Noah’s trousers and boxers. “Your turn, baby.”

  As he felt himself swallowed down to the base, Noah closed his eyes again and felt lips, tongue, teeth, fingers, and hands play his body as if it were some sort of forgotten instrument that had been locked away in a closet for far too long. He just hoped that he wouldn’t find himself forgotten again, not right away, anyway; he wanted this feeling to last, totally undone by the wondrous feeling of sex with someone he could see himself falling for before the sex happened.

  Chapter Five

  NOAH sat at his desk, his mind still trying to decipher all of these memories of Paul. He’d begun the day by checking over the reports from his most recent project, having convinced himself that all of these dreams and memories of Paul were because his ex-lover had moved into the same building. But as he stared at the clock, realizing that he was falling behind and would need to skip lunch—again—he wasn’t so sure that was the reason. Noah was pretty sure that he was no longer in love with Paul, the distrust he felt toward the man as strong as it had been six years ago. So then why did Noah allow this particular distraction? Why was he suddenly so preoccupied with feelings of guilt for having rebuffed the man yesterday?

  Noah knew he shouldn’t feel guilty, knew that he’d been betrayed by the man who had professed to love him. But he did feel guilty, and it was driving him mad. Paul’s happiness was not his responsibility and it had never been, but still, Noah couldn’t help the feeling that Paul was lonely, much as he’d been six years ago. He had been abandoned by his wife, had a child who was being used as some sort of living rope in the tug-of-war with Cherie, and was now being rejected by Noah.

  “Hey, boss?”

  Noah looked up to see Jim, one of his technicians, standing at his office door. “Yeah?”

  “We’re going to be running the new protocols, and it’ll take a couple of hours. Feel like coming with for an extended lunch?”

  Noah opened his mouth to politely decline the invitation but then realized he would just be sentencing himself to sitting here, alone with his thoughts of Paul. “Sure,” he said and then stood, patting his back pocket to make sure his wallet was still there. “We meeting there, or is everyone going together?”

  “Everyone’s out by the elevator, waiting on me… and you, now.”

  “Let’s go, then,” Noah said as he grabbed his keys and closed his door, locking it securely. He walked beside Jim to the elevators, where they joined the rest of Noah’s team. “Where we eating?”

  “We thought we might try that new restaurant over on 48th,” Maria explained as the doors opened and they all gathered inside the mirrored elevator. “I heard it was incredible.”

  “Sounds good,” Noah said as he caught his reflection in the harsh fluorescent lighting. He was thinking about how tired he looked, about how he would be getting shit from Aiden at the club tonight. Noah would have to use a lot of concealer to hide the dark circles under his eyes and take special care that he warmed up his voice properly and well. He felt so much older than his thirty-five years.

  The elevator doors opened and they headed, walking in groups of two, through the lobby and down the street before heading north to 48th Street. They arrived at the restaurant to find it mostly deserted, except, Noah was shocked to discover, for Aiden. His best friend was sitting facing the front door and across from a man with a very broad back. Noah wondered if Aiden had found another eligible suitor to add to his growing list of what Aiden liked to call Dropped Balls. It wasn’t that Aiden was incapable of staying in a relationship, but rather that Aiden usually found some niggling little flaw that he then proceeded to blow out of all proportion.

  There had been the gorgeous waiter who adored Aiden, but he was soon discarded because, as Aiden had noted, “Please, darling, what kind of future do I have with a waiter? He’s gorgeous, of course, but he’s poor. What kind of life can I have living on tips?” Noah had found it to be a shallow reason, but then he’d always known that about Aiden. And even when Aiden had attracted the attention of a very wealthy older banker, his eventual rejection of the middle-aged man had not been unexpected. “Yes, he’s wealthy, but he likes me to dress in drag when we go out. How can I possibly stay tucked that long before it stops working completely in protest?”

  He smiled at his friend, told his colleagues that he would be back shortly, and walked over to greet Aiden and this mystery man with short hair and broad, muscled shoulders. As he neared the table, Aiden stood and pulled out a chair for Noah to sit. Noah held up his hand and explained, “Sorry, Aiden, just wanted to come and say hi. I’m out with some of my team.”

  “Noah,” Aiden said as he sat back down, “I believe you’ve met Oscar.”

  Noah turned to look at the man he’d seen dozens of times, wondering why he’d never noticed the broad back and the well-muscled shoulders before. Oscar, the manager and owner, was found in the club most nights, but in one of the back offices or helping stock the bar during the busy hours. Other than the occasional slow night, when Oscar had time to venture out to chat with some of his acquaintances and friends, Noah never really saw him. “Yes, of course,” Noah said as Oscar stood and extended a hand. “It’s nice to see that you actually take a break from working your fingers to the bone at the club.”

  Oscar’s cheeks flushed a little, and he dropped Noah’s hand, offering only a nod in Noah’s direction. The juxtaposition of this Oscar with the one he was used to seeing in the club had Noah momentarily befuddled; he had to force his thoughts away from those beautiful green eyes and the ridiculously long and thick lashes, away from the feel of that firm handshake.

  “We were just discussing the new improvements that we’re adding to our show,” Aiden explained as he indicated the empty seat again.

  Once more, Noah waved him off and nodded. “We don’t have the details worked out yet, but we might be able to pull in some new crowds.”

  “It sounds like a really good idea,” Oscar said finally, looking up quickly at Noah before returning his eyes to the dirty plate in front of him. “I can’t wait to see the finished product.”

  “We should have it ready for a rehearsal by next week,” Aiden announced and looked up at Noah, who figured Aiden was expecting a fight or a contradiction. Noah provided neither, quite confident that the new show would be ready by then. “Oscar was just telling me that he’s looking into updating his computer programming for… what was it again, sweetie?”

  Noah saw Oscar turn and look up at him. “I want to update the computer software we’re using to do the accounts and to keep track of inventory and ordering.”

  “I told him that you could help him with that. Show up early one or two days and explain what he needs to look for in a reputable company that could help with all that.” Aiden took hold of his martini glass and leaned back, and Noah recognized the self-satisfied grin immediately.

  “Of course,” Oscar said, leaning back in his own chair, “that’s only if you have the time. And… of course, I’d pay you for your time.”

  “Nonsense,” Noah said, finally taking a seat so that Oscar wouldn’t have to keep craning his neck to address him. “That won’t be much work at all. I’d be happy to do it for you, especially after all you
’ve done for us,” Noah explained as he looked back at Aiden.

  “That would be fantastic,” Oscar said, his smile bright and his eyes dancing between Noah and Aiden.

  Noah wondered why he’d never noticed all of these little things he was noticing now. The white teeth, the beautiful smile, the stretch of the white shirt across a well-developed chest. Even the way Oscar seemed to be so shy and reserved was incredibly endearing.

  “Well,” Noah said finally, when there seemed to be nothing left to say. He turned to Oscar and smiled. “I’ll call your number at the club and leave my cell number for you, and then you can contact me when you’re ready.” Turning to Aiden, Noah said, “And I’ll see you tonight. Eight sharp?”

  “With bells, pumpkin,” Aiden cooed and waved quickly as Noah turned to rejoin his colleagues.

  As soon as he’d returned to the office after lunch, Noah called the club and left the promised message for Oscar. He was not necessarily any more productive during the afternoon, but he felt a little bit lighter for some reason. He dismissed the random thoughts of Oscar as the potential reason as preposterous and reminded himself that he was supposed to be focusing on his work right now and not on getting involved with another man. He was taking a break from that part of his life, especially since his mind seemed to be awash in inexplicable thoughts of Paul… and now Oscar. Noah had long ago learned his lesson. When he wanted something badly enough, he was usually blind to the disasters that awaited around every corner.

  Like the time he’d been blindsided when he’d shown up at Paul’s apartment unannounced. …

  Noah had been having a really crappy day and decided what he needed for comfort were the arms and lips of one attractive and well-muscled social studies teacher. It was a week or so before Thanksgiving, which meant he was one week away from celebrating another Thanksgiving alone and without any family of his own. Aiden usually traveled north to Spruce Grove to spend a week or so with his own family, and Noah had never felt comfortable mixing business with pleasure, so he’d never accepted an invitation to spend Thanksgiving with a colleague. There were a few who knew he was orphaned now and had been for many years, but for the most part, all of his other colleagues knew only the lie he told them: he spent Thanksgiving with a cousin who lived in Red Deer.

  He arrived at the front entrance to Paul’s building, hoping beyond anything that this Thanksgiving he would be able to spend some of it with this new man in his life. He knew that Paul would probably be traveling to visit his parents or some other relatives, but Noah was sure Paul would find some time to spend with him. After all, hadn’t he told Paul just a few days ago that he didn’t have any family at all?

  “Hello?” Paul’s garbled voice came over the ancient intercom.

  “It’s me. You decent?” Noah smiled, imagining all of the things that he would do to ensure Paul didn’t stay decent for long. But his smile faded as he heard nothing but silence for at least thirty seconds or more. “Paul?” There was no response.

  As he turned toward to his car, Noah heard the door open. Paul was standing there, buttoning up his shirt, his feet bare and his hair completely messed. Noah’s heart sank as he recognized what Paul must have been doing. Noah knew that look very well by now. He tried not to show his disappointment, forcing a smile and looking directly into those hazel eyes. “Sorry, I should have called first.” Noah turned back toward the street, chastising himself for thinking Paul would be any different than the other men who’d broken his heart.

  “Noah?” Paul called, but he did not move from the entranceway.

  Noah started the car, lowered his window completely, and welcomed the cool air against his flushed face, willing the sting from behind his eyes. He put the car into gear and headed home. He had some marking to do, and then he would take a nice, long shower and finish reading the latest mystery thriller by that author whose name he could never remember.

  A few short minutes later, he entered his apartment to the sound of Paul’s voice pleading for him to listen to him. Noah didn’t waste any time turning the volume down on the machine and pretending that the call had never existed. When the machine beeped again, signaling the end of the message, Noah punched the delete button and headed to the bedroom. As hard as he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t really all that upset at being used, Noah knew that it was no use. He had gone and fallen in love with Paul. And now he would not only have to work with the man, but he would have to continue to be his mentor. It would be easy enough to cite his heavy workload to beg off the student council, but there was no way in hell that Noah would give Shane the satisfaction of requesting to be relieved of mentor duty; Shane would see this as a sign of weakness or a lack of “team spirit,” and Noah would never hear the end of it.

  He stayed under the hot water of the shower a little longer than he should have, the water turning cooler and forcing Noah to turn the water off. He liked the feeling of clean he always had when he got out of the shower, and this time was almost no different. With enough time, he told himself, I’ll be back to that feeling. Hell, with enough time, I’ll look back on all this and realize it was just something else to learn from. What Noah wasn’t so honest about was the doubt he felt that any of this would happen as soon as he predicted.

  He was clean, dry, and lying in bed in no time, the story in the paperback trying its best to pull him into a world of mystery and intrigue. As he’d done many times before, when he found his mind wandering, he concentrated a little harder and quickly found himself three chapters further into the book. Noah had always found solace in these stories, sometimes to the detriment of his social life. He’d never bothered to think too hard about why he preferred the stories to the kind of social life that Aiden had always enjoyed, but then again, he’d never been so aware of that particular aspect of his life before. He’d never fallen in love with any of his boyfriends, had never truly known what it felt like to be at home, alone, wondering why he wasn’t enough, where the boyfriend was, and what he was doing.

  Noah knew the thoughts would consume him if he let them, so he would make sure that his mind was kept occupied. He would concentrate on everything else that needed his attention. He would continue with student council, continue to run the school store, and continue to give as much attention as possible to his classes and his students. I’ll pretend that I’m up for evaluation this year, Noah thought to himself as he closed the book and reached for the bedside lamp. Turning it off, he rationalized to himself that focusing on the non-existent evaluation would buy him the necessary time to put all of this behind him. For good.

  As he drifted off to sleep, Noah felt a little bit better about everything, realizing for the first time since last week that tomorrow, October 8th, would be his birthday. His twenty-ninth birthday. This was why he needed to get his mind back on his own life; how could he allow himself to become so preoccupied that he’d forget his own birthday? Maybe he would go out and buy that digital Nikon he’d been looking at for a while. As one of the supervisors of the yearbook, he felt it was about time he actually did learn something about photography. Maybe, he thought to himself, I’ll beg off student council and explain to Shane that I want to spend more time on yearbook, become a more active supervisor. It made sense; after all, Paul was there to take over student council. It wasn’t like Noah would be abandoning the student council at all. He would just be abandoning Paul.

  Feeling a sense of satisfaction that he’d solved at least one of his problems, Noah took a deep breath and felt himself relax into the feather-top bed, his muscles relaxing even more. As had become his habit, he imagined a completely blank screen, focusing on the nothingness of it. He was so relaxed, as a matter of fact, that he didn’t even register the knocking at the door until it was accompanied by Paul’s pleading voice.

  Noah’s heart started racing. He felt the cold prickly heat down his spine and realized Paul was not about to stop anytime soon. Fearing his neighbors might complain to the landlord, who was incredibly vigilant
about maintaining a quiet building, Noah threw back the covers and quickly organized his thoughts before unlatching the chain, turning the deadbolt, and opening the door.

  “May I come in?” Paul stood there, fully dressed and sporting a look of contrition that immediately disarmed Noah just a little too much for his own comfort.

  Noah said nothing but stepped aside, only then aware that his door was wide open and he was wearing only a T-shirt and boxers. There were no children in the building, but Noah didn’t really feel like giving the neighbors a show. He decided against offering anything to his uninvited guest and stood at the entrance to the living room, seeing that Paul had chosen to sit on the sofa, his large frame leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. Noah had nothing to say, so he could only wait until Paul had organized his thoughts enough to begin. He stood, waiting, leaning against the dining room table, his arms crossed over his chest. Noah was suddenly aware of how hard his heart was beating.

  “I never said that I was gay. I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

  Noah’s first thought was that as an opener, it was a little formulaic. But then the words sank into his head and he realized, for the first time, that not only had Paul slept with someone else, but that he’d been up there fucking a woman. Noah gained control over his impulse to ask for confirmation and schooled his expression. He would not be saying anything to Paul tonight, nor, perhaps, at any other time, either. So he stayed where he was and waited for it all to end.

  “I’m sorry if I hurt you, but there are some things we can’t always control.”

  Noah did nothing, said nothing.

  “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Still, Noah said nothing. “I mean,” Paul said after a few moments. “Can’t we still be friends?” When Noah still said nothing, Paul sighed and lifted himself off the sofa. “Okay,” Paul said as he walked toward Noah. “I didn’t…. Things aren’t always what they seem, Noah.”